My calculations from yesterday were slightly flawed – Miss T screamed for about two minutes last night. That’s it though, so hopefully tonight will be zero minutes. Of course, she irked the crap out of me first thing this morning by waking up at 6:57. This was of course the one day this week that AE slept in, and N didn’t have to be at work at 8 so we could have slept in a bit too. I kid you not, every other day this week Miss T has slept until at least 7:30, but today, not so much. I realize it is only a half-hour difference, but some days it may as well be hours, you know? The children, they conspire against me.
Meet the Teacher Night went fine, although there’s a kid in AE’s class who he’s gotten into trouble with during summer camp so I’m not sure that bodes well. There’s another kid in the class who is one child of SEVEN in her family. OMG, seven children, all of whom appeared to be under the age of nine. The mind, it boggles.
I’ve been all kinds of cranky and out-of-sorts today. The only household chore I’ve managed was to change the sheets on AE’s bed, a task that is not as simple as you might think. It actually occurs with embarrassing infrequency, because his bed is a loft with a tent over it and therefore a giant pain in the ass to put sheets on. Couple that with his hoarding tendencies, and it just becomes too much of an effort to move down the eleventy-thousand books, stuffed animals, little toys, multiple pillows, blankets and kleenex. Seriously, the kleenex. I sent him up there with a plastic grocery bag to gather all the wadded tissue he collects. He counted as he threw them in the bag. I left the room, came back to hear “fifty-six, fifty-seven”, became horrified, left again, and came back as he put in the last one – “ninety-two.” NINETY-TWO. MY CHILD HAD A MOUNTAINOUS PILE OF WADDED SNOT RAGS IN HIS BED, NINETY-TWO TISSUES DEEP. I AM A HORRIBLE, DISGUSTING PARENT RAISING A HORRIBLY DISGUSTING CHILD.
Speaking of being a bad parent, if I don’t go to the store this afternoon my children will have nothing to eat. Ugh, and it is already 3:45. I guess I should go. Blah, and flurg, and HATE.
