I've decided to keep an ANGER journal. Probably not the healthiest thing to focus on, but, hey, it's something to do. Anticipate many entries in the near future.
Here we go...
Elle rarely wakes up before 8:00 a.m. Rob is out of town, so she has woken up at 6:45 two mornings in a row. The third night, she woke up screaming at 2:30 a.m. with a fever. I had just gotten to bed 1 hour prior because I had to pick up Mia from a dance competition after awards. Yes, the dance competition awards, which involve girls, ages 3 to 17 (the majority being under age 12) went until 1:10 a.m. She commences to sob for the next 30 minutes about how much she misses dance and how unfair it is that I won’t drive her to the freeway four times a week (30 minutes round-trip) and coordinate other dancer’s parents to pick her up from the freeway and take her the rest of the way to dance (30 minutes round-trip) and then pick her up at the freeway (another 30 minutes) after someone else’s mom takes her there (30 minutes). Because other moms, she explains, would love to take her to and from dance and the freeway four times a week. It’s not a problem. For them. Only for me. And we only care about McKenzie and soccer. We don’t do anything for her. (Only basketball, space camp, picking her up at 1:00 a.m. from a dance competition so she could socialize with old friends….) And I never listen to her. I only make fun of her and laugh at her. (I snickered when she suggested other people’s parents could drive her to dance for me…).
I am French braiding Mia’s hair, Elle is “combing” it (read: pulling hair out as fast as I can braid it). She’s frustrated, while Cam is doing all he can to get her to scream. The oven timer downstairs dings. It dings again. Again. Again. (It’s been 5 minutes.) MK is on the couch downstairs, lying there. Not asleep. I yell down, “Can you take the chicken out of the oven?” No response. “MK,” no response. I hurry and finish Mia’s hair and run downstairs through gray smoke. MK is staring off into space. “Why didn’t you get the chicken?" "You said we were done.” (As in done watching me prepare the chicken, so they could learn what you do with one.)
I haven’t slept more than 6 hours a night in the past 7 days. Does that have something to do with my anger? Or are my kids THAT annoying? You know what I think…
3 comments:
Sigh...teenagers. I'm getting sneak peeks at how annoyingly self-centered they are. I'm sorry they aren't being that nice to you right now. (Sounds like you need your husband back!) :)
I so remember those days. The world revolves around you and for some reason, no matter how many times your mom tries to tell you how much she does for you, it's still never enough and life is not fair. Good luck...and get some sleep SOON!
YIKES! I thought you could handle anything, I am glad you are human. Yeah, good luck with that.
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