I have so much to be grateful for, but I am about to NOT talk about the many things I am grateful for. So, prepare yourselves. It’ll just take a moment.
Summer has been suffocating. It has been the rainiest summer I’ve experienced here in MI, so thank you Michigan for taking me to disgusting, humid, dripping, sweaty places I’ve never been …. and never wanted to go. But more than that, my boys are driving me crazy. Right now, it has been a day full of crying, cleaning, more crying, feeding, time outs, more crying, more feeding and now I have tight shoulders and I am craving chocolate and silence in a place where I’m completely alone and it’s …. quiet, did I mention needing quiet?
It’s a bad time of day, 5 pm. It means I should be making dinner, but I’m not, I should be getting ready to leave for Activity Days tonight in an hour and the boys are most needy at this time of day. They need food (dinner is coming, so I can’t hold them off with snacks, or dinner becomes a painful experience, reminding them to eat their food every 2 minutes), I need food and it’s the end of the day. I’m tired and I am flat out of great, learning activities for them to do to keep them busy and they just end up circling around me like vultures, pecking at me with questions, requests and whines.
I just told them to leave me alone because “Mommy needs a time out”. seriously. oh geez. I am looking down the barrel of a night of food making, taking care of a sick Ray, cleaning up and then going to spend the evening with a ton of 8-11 year olds for hours. I am tired. And I’m hot and sticky and my brain is aching.
Here’s what sounds good to me: going to Anthropologie and sitting in a fat, cooshy chair, surrounded by good smells and pretty things, drink a Jamba Juice (Caribbean Passion) and read. Maybe I would bring a laptop and look at apartmenttherapy.com. That would be nice. Look at nice things, in a quiet, good smelling place, drinking something yummy. Yes. Ahhhhhhhh.
But no. Ray just woke up crying and dinner should’ve been made 15 minutes ago. Blech. Time to dive in to the evening of duties. I hate being an adult. A responsible adult with kids.