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Browsing Tag: I’d like a margarita please

SK and the Mighty Quinn: It’d be a Good Name for a Band

I was going to write about the tantrums SK’s been throwing lately, but decided I didn’t feel like complaining.

The next thing on my mind was how my dear elder daughter keeps pitching fits when the younger one is playing with her toys–to the point of more tantrums and some wayward violence, but I didn’t want to be so negative.

And I couldn’t stop thinking about just how stinking overwhelmed I am with chores and errands and parenting and…and…realized that a)  any parent who works full-time would want to bop me on the head for complaining and b) I’m boring myself.

But there I was, looking around, searching for something that wasn’t annoyingly petty or troubling to pass along your way. I had been running errands all day like a crazy woman, and our bedrooms looked like an action movie had been filmed in them–post car-chase, fireballs, and scary alien invasions, of course–because I was sorting through our summer clothes to make way for the Rubbermaid containers of winter ones we normally keep stored in our attic because our house was apparently built for monks who only needed closet space for their 3 sets of robes. I was exhausted from quelling fit after fit that SK was pitching over the smallest issues (seriously? You’re upset because Quinn’s pushing the shopping car with which you haven’t played in weeks? It’s NOT THAT BIG A DEAL, CHILD. Just go read a book or something, yes?) and yes, I was tired. So, so tired, and impatient, and, well, thinking that if all of my days were like the last few, I could start to understand why Anne Heche went wandering around in her pajamas a few years ago talking about spaceships. Sometimes it can get to you. And by “it” I mean, well, life. When some days you’re so busy trying to just keep your head above the flotsam that is all the responsibility and pitfalls and carry on.

It sounds like I’m depressed. I’m not, honest. It’s just been a rough couple of days. Honest. I’d tell you. Either that or you’d find me wandering down the turnpike, barefoot. I’m wearing shoes at the moment, though. Don’t worry.

But I was all set to write a post about something inevitably negative–which I fully realize I just actually did–when two moments happened, one right after the other.