I say we lock ourselves in our room and use that one swear word we know.

I tried to watch the debate last night—I really did. I made it through the “social issues” portion, although in hindsight I wish I had gone to bed during the preceding commercial break. It just made me angry, and I’ve spent enough time being angry lately, for reasons I won’t go into here.

I’m the first to admit, I have a hard time letting things go. I like to think it’s because I’m the descendant of a long line of stubborn “fighting Scots.” But most likely, I’m just kind of a bitch.

Anyway, I knew I wasn’t likely to make it all the way through the debate and through Jon Stewart’s last show. Why? Because I’m not only angry, I’m tired. I love my kid, don’t get me wrong, but he is always on the go, rarely takes a nap, and screams and bangs his head any time he doesn’t get what he wants. What does he want? It includes, but is not limited to:

• the phone/iPad/computer/any wire he can get his hands on;
• my set of Big Bang Theory bobbleheads;
• Jeremy’s giant Lego X-Wing;
• to pull all of the wipes/tissues out of the container;
• to run into the street;
• to lick the bottom of my shoes;
• to mount and ride the dog; and, most often,
• to be released and given free rein in any crowded and/or hazardous public place.

It’s amazing how quickly they transition from “I’m immobile, please feed and clean me” to, “I refuse to stop moving, your new purpose in life is to chase me around and keep me from hurting myself—which I can do in an infinite matter of ways that will never occur to you until they present themselves and I come within an inch of losing a limb.”

So 14-month-olds are hard, because they want to be independent but have no sense of self-preservation. We’ve all heard about the Terrible Twos. I have it on good authority from several people that “all 3-year-olds are assholes,” and a friend whose child recently turned 4 admitted that it’s not much better thus far. And then yesterday, someone told Jeremy that 5-year-olds are the hardest, because they are big enough to do some things for themselves, but still lack any ability to understand reason. Dear God, does it ever stop? Are 6-year-olds prone to building meth labs? Do 7-year-olds specialize in insider training and money laundering? Will 8-year-old Archie attempt to overthrow the government armed with a shiv fashioned from Sophie the Giraffe and a jumbo Crayon?

In short, I’m angry, I’m tired, and if I think past one day at a time, I kind of want to curl up in the fetal position with a tube of cookie dough. But instead, I will go pick up some bobbleheads off the floor and disinfect the bottoms of my shoes. Just in case.