I am, right at this very second, listening to my kids bicker and snark and battle over I don't even know what. That, and that infernal Super Mario Brothers theme music.
Right at this very second, I do not care. Well, I do not care as long as there is no property or personal injury.
I'm exhausted from dealing with the bickering.
Exhausted and worn down and apathetic.
The hub-o-licious has been lucky enough to escape to work for an important, impromptu meeting that strikes me more as a self preservation of sanity than actual work related emergency. I have no doubt that I'm both mistaken and over reacting about this, but I'm in a snarly mood and so there you have it.
I need to go to the commissary. I've needed to do this for over a week. I can only bring myself to do so and get what we absolutely need. Yesterday it was for the food we fixed the in laws for dinner. And one of those really small cakes that serves 4 to 6 people. That cake is all gone now. As badly as I'd love some more, it's not worth the cardio time it will require to work it off or having to drag the bickerson siblings out in public to get it.
Saturday it was milk, bought in a very hurried trip to Walmart at 6 am before hub-o-licious had to show up at the site where he was overseeing the CSSIP certifcation test.
Despite my reluctance to go to the commissary, I find that I ironically have been more than willing to go and get takeout. Especially if it was my idea and I can throw in an iced tea. I'd say that less cooking means less mess to clean up, but that's so not the case in this house. My kids can make a pig sty out of dust bunnies and air. Not that there are any dust bunnies in this house. Ahem.
A few minutes ago, I went upstairs to take a shower and when I got out, I offered to make the kids pb&j for lunch. T wanted to make his sandwich and S's sandwich, which was really very sweet. Until I came into the kitchen to find pb&j smeared all over every available surface: counter, chair, table, floor.
I love my kids, but some days I'm just over this whole stay at home Mom thing. Today is one of those days.
What really sucks, really, really sucks, is that my kids are the ones that suffer when I'm short tempered and impatient. It's not their fault. And then I add this huge pile of guilt to my already crappy attitude, which just makes it crappier.
Crappity crappity crappity crap.
This makes me dread the next deployment. I have limited help here for when I'm really going to need a break, and with the kids in school, I can't just take off and visit relatives to get a break.
A magic wand would come in handy right about now.
So would a housekeeper.