With a capital B.
Snarly and growly and no patience at all with my youngests.
Damn I hate that.
I hate it when I hear the sarcastic pseudo patient voice coming out of my own mouth.
Cringing but still harping all at the same time.
Yet when my youngest daughter manages to drop her food on the floor for the millionth time instead of actually get it in her mouth, loses her frigging wallet again, says "OH" as her first sound of choice to any question or comment directed at her....
My oldest daughter caught up in the tidal wave of emotions that is being 13, clings to me like a shipwreck survivor and sharpens her claws on anyone else who happens to bob by...
My oldest son is being plagued by allergy symptoms and severe ones for the first time in his life and seems incapable of going outside because of snow mould or INTO THE BASEMENT WHICH WE ARE RENOVATING TO THE TUNE OF TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS SO IT WILL BE DRY AND HE CAN HAVE QUIET BEDROOM without wheezing and snorfing and and sounding very asthmatic...
My youngest son is, while doing fairly well on his reduced dosage of meds, is floaty, goofy and unfocused enough to make almost any otherwise mundane activity somewhat interesting and exciting in a really random way and at the same time is feeling much less repressed about expressing irritation and resentment over almost everything his younger sister does and he has been lobbying to be taken off of meds completely-
this, the child who helped me learn the mantra "Better living through chemistry"...
And I have to figure out just exactly how we are going to pay for the tearing down of and the rebuilding of the garage that is 8 inches below grade and has it's own rather ineffective sump pump and currently is rotting from the ground up and while we are at it we might as well regrade the mildew pit that is our backyard -
all so that we will hopefully never again have to contend with a watery, mouldy basement.
And homeschool the children.
and figure out which of my damn dogs (I say that with love) is still tinkling in the house, on the wood floor...
Still I should hold it together better than I am doing.
I did not rip the head off of the woman, who under most circumstances is a beloved friend, who referred to my oldest son, in front of my youngest son as being my "natural child".
Yes, I admit I thought about it but I didn't do it, that should count for something.
How can someone I love be that stupid.
Neither of my kids picked up on it - so I was worried I would make it something they would feel hurt by if they had missed it the first time.
Just caught youngest playing with her GameBoy toy in bed under her covers.
Think I scared the absolute crap out of her.
No yelling just the horror of me standing over her and saying "Oh this is not right!" in that disappointed shocked tone I do so well.
She, quick thinking in attempt to throw me off the scent of fresh blood (hers) happily turns her brother in the next room over to the wolves (that would be me) - "He's doing it too!".
I checked he wasn't.
Told her that tattle taling wasn't nice and in this case she was wrong.
"Last night!" she squealed, "He was doing it last night!".
Confiscated both of them and left them to stew or not, perchance to sleep.
All this after I was so freaking brilliant and started a notebook for her where I write down her fears and hopes etc. whatever she dictates to me before bedtime, so that we can keep her important thoughts in a safe place.
She told me that it worked after we tried it out last night, that she slept well and didn't have bad dreams.
That at least is good.
Except that my husband is out of town and will be again for over ten days and I,
imperfect, sarcastic, mouthy, loud me will be left with four children who need someone whose mercies are a lot more tender.