Struggling

I've mentally settled down a bit since my last foul-mouthed post, but I have really been struggling this week. I had probably the worst day I've ever had with Sister yesterday, where I yelled at her so loud she burst into tears. Felt great about that one, let me tell ya.

Sweet P has entered a phase where she doesn't want to be put down at all and suddenly sleeps dramatically less than she used to. I know, I know, this shouldn't be a surprise to me, a supposedly experienced mama. But it does mean that on top of Sister's horrible homework hysteria nearly everyday, and Bean trying to alternately pick fights with hysterical Sister or surreptitiously squeeze the baby's hands or skull, I have a screaming baby demanding attention, too.

It's enough to make me utterly short out. You know on old Looney Tunes cartoons how you'd see smoke coming out of Yosemite Sam's ears when he was pissed off? It's the smoke of overloaded brain circuitry, I understand that now. And that's been me lately.

This morning--and the rest of today--has gone better. Sister had a delayed opening school day, so she spent the extra time getting me to set her up with an embroidery project that she's making as a birthday present to Bean. A nice, peaceful morning then, and this is hopefully her new hobby. On her way out the door to school, she declared it to be so.

Couch bound

I'm not feeling my best today. Perhaps it's the scouring being perpetrated on my innards by our good luck meal of collard greens and black-eyed peas last night, or perhaps it's just the post-holiday let down finally catching up with me. I dunno. But all I want to do today is curl up on the couch with a cup of tea and watch Sex and the City reruns.

I've got to snap out of this before Sister gets home from school today. Sister and I are in one of our phases of not getting along, which means that I can look forward to an afternoon of her arguing with practically every statment or request that leaves my mouth, sobbing over math homework for an hour and a half, and then perhaps a little screaming on the floor while her 1-1/2 year old baby sister does one savage thing or another to her. This usually takes the form of hair-pulling, flesh-squeezing accompanied by a challenging stare, or perhaps a swat or two. I keep telling Sister that she outweighs Bean by 40 pounds and could simply get up off the floor to keep Bean from doing this to her, but Sister seems to enjoy being victimized by a toddler for some reason. I swear she even invites it. I had no idea that an 8-1/2 year old would stoop to this kind of interaction with a toddler 7 years her junior, but siblings are siblings I guess, no matter what the age difference.

Sigh. The weather is sunny and clear here today after a few depressing days of dreary gray. There's a lot of tidying up in the yard I could do now that the landscapers are gone. But right now I'm heading for the couch.

Brownie bitching

Ugh. Slogging through formatting yet another list of volunteer "opportunities" to hand out to parents at tomorrow's Brownie meeting. Did I complain last year about what a crap job it was to be the cookie mom of Sister's Brownie troop and be stuck with trying to make other supposed grown-ups meet deadlines? Did I say how much other parents sucked for making me nag them about giving me troop money on time and then getting mad and pissy with me for nagging them? Did I ever complain about how much it sucked to be PAID to hassle people back when I used to manage a bakery with a dozen bakers on staff? I take it all back. Being cookie mom was just for 2 months. Being a bakery manager actually paid pretty well. Being a Brownie troop leader is for most of the year and you do it for free.

What's REALLY a crap job is having to hassle parents every month to please do something to contribute to their daughter's Brownie troop. Please just say you'll bring a box of granola bars or a bag of apples for the girls to snack on. Please sign up to help with the single meeting you're required to help with. C'mon. We tell you about this at the beginning of the year. Your daughters love love love it when you come. Please send money on time so that we can buy event tickets on time so that we can actually attend the events that your girls voted to attend. Please help drive all these girls to the events. I know they're usually on Saturdays. Did you know that it's Saturday for me, too? Do you realize I'm not your free babysitter? Did you know you're making it so that I really don't want to do this anymore?

Say it with me now--what the hell was I thinking? Again?

Terrible tasks

The past 48 hours have been filled with all sorts of sucky events. 2 days ago, I experienced perhaps my single worst day as mama to Sister. It involved a 1-1/2 hour long bout over very hard subtraction homework during which Sister alternately cried, whined, moaned, and threw fits. There were exactly six problems on this homework sheet, by the way. Six. At one point I totally lost it, grabbed Sister by the arm, and hustled her up the stairs to go sit in her room to cool off. (I, of course, also very much needed to cool off.) Plus I yelled at the baby after Sister came back down 'cause I STILL couldn't get Sister focused and Bean tore about the house getting into everything she knew she wasn't supposed to get into--plant leaf ripping, much drawer emptying, block throwing, dog slapping, and file cabinet paper flinging--just so I'd pay her some attention. Yeah, yelled at the baby. Is it any wonder that Sister's picking this up from me when Bean gets into her stuff? Way to model good mama behavior, Self!

Later that evening, Husband and I talked about the lawyer appointment we'd had just that morning where we discussed our wills. The appointment had gone fine, but Husband and I had a heated discussion over whether I should leave the money for Sister under the management of her perpetually unemployed father if I were to die. I don't want to because I'm afraid he'll spend it all on remaining unemployed so that she'll have nothing by the time she goes to college. Husband argued that making someone else a trustee is impractical, and anyway which of us inherits money at such a young age? I'm still unsure what to do. But I cried again that night.

And since then, I've spent precious naptime working either on an application for a new life insurance policy or on Brownie stuff.

Just sucky, I tell ya. Hope y'all are doing better than I am!

Summer cometh before the fall

Autumn is on its way. Know how I know that? Not because we've been having nighttime temperatures in the low 70's and 60's lately here in sweltering NC. Not because the tulip poplars and dogwood trees have begun subtly changing their leaf colors. Not even 'cause I have a calendar and can do the math myself. No, the reason I know fall is coming is because this morning found me toting 2-9 X 13 sausage and mushrom breakfast stratas and 24 oatmeal and dried cherry muffins to Sister's school for the teacher appreciation breakfast. At 7:20.

And school doesn't even start til next Friday.

Just my way of kicking off a very busy school year, y'all! Let me bend your ear here with my idiocy. I've signed up for no less than 3 PTA committees, roped in by 2 new and friendly PTA co-presidents who use free wine to make parents do things they would not otherwise EVER consider in their right and sober minds. I decided to be one of the co-leaders of Sister's Brownie troop, in the wild and probably wildly stupid hope that it would be easier and less-stressful than being the cookie mom. I have also repented my former position of not signing Sister up for "too many" activities because kids should have proper childhoods, dammit, and have plenty of free time to lie around and read and imagine stuff and not be pushed into being super-achievers too early. I have repented because this has meant that I signed Sister up for exactly NOTHING last year (except twice a month Brownies), and I get the feeling she's bored and making trouble with me to spice things up for herself. I have, therefore, signed her up for twice a week swim class, and am waiting to hear if this local farm camp place can also fit her in for horse-back riding one day a week.

I'm in for it. Joining the ranks of the freak-out busy moms--I mean the REALLY freak-out busy moms--who forget they have hobbies and interests and sex and sleep to fit in, too.

I'll keep y'all posted.