I am sitting in my kitchen at 10:36 pm being very very grumpy.
For really no reason. Besides my children both being disturbed by things at school - not serious things! But things I can't fix for them.
Like Julia telling me quietly, oh so quietly in a tiny voice, that M whispered something in A's ear at school a while ago and they wouldn't tell her. It made me want to go over to M's house (who is the daughter of my good good friend who I love, though I am not so incredibly fond of her daughter who won't sit with my daughter on the bus most days - though she needs to be thought of as Julia's best friend all the time)to tell her to STAY AWAY from A - she was Julia's friend first. I can always tell when M is being mean (yes, I said mean, I am judging a 5 year old, it's my rant) because Julia suddenly doesn't want to go to school.
Have I mentioned this is Junior Kindergarten? These girls are 4 and 5. How I will survive high school I do not know.
And Stu. I don't even know where to start. He had pains in his stomach. The kind he gets when he is nervous he tells me. So I ask gentle probing questions to try and find out what is bothering him (I hope I have a daughter-in-law who appreciates this one day, his ability to discuss his feelings, because holy hell it just about does me in some days). After 25 minutes of who did/said/looked at who at every activity and nutrition break today (my brain disintegrating to mush) he suddenly bursts into tears over having to leave his stuffed animal that he is doing a project about at school. I soothed and figured he would sleep... no? NO. He is finally asleep in my bed. I am in the kitchen. I see something wrong with this picture.
I don't think my husband's schedule for the next few months helped my mood today. It's not that I am not supportive, understanding, yadda yadda yadda, but hello? I put it into my iCalendar today. And I think by the end of April (he's away for my birthday) I won't remember what he looks like.
And he's out tonight.
And it's my father's birthday. Or would have been. What do you call it for people who are deceased.
And it's February.
And I am tired of my diet (though it is going well).
And there were two people who ran my bell tonight - one selling chocolate bars. The other giving out free shower heads.
And my dishwasher just went on.
See, everything is ticking me off. (Yes, I am hormonally challenged, what makes you ask?)
I'm going to drag my cranky, miserable butt to bed.
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6 comments:
The school shit drives me INSANE. And guess what? IT NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER ENDS. Sorry to let you know.
My 10-year-old has a long-term love/hate relationship with her BEST FRIEND, who chooses not to speak to her for some unknown reason at least three or four times a month. And I tell my child IGNORE HER, when I really want to say, HOW ABOUT YOU DON'T SPEAK TO HER SNARKY ASS FIRST? SEE HOW SHE LIKES THAT! But that would be wrong (wouldn't it?) so I just encourage her to play with other people and remind her that having lots of different friends is always better than having one friend, and secretly plotting the demise of said SNOTTY BRAT friend, who has been her BEST FRIEND since they were three freaking years old.
Rant who?
The mean starts early. I know this well and nothing makes me feel shittier than disliking small children, but there it is.
Some aren't too lovable.
And while our husbands are away, we are allowed to whine as much as we need to.
I've declared it law.
Feel better.
I hope you got some rest and the following days were nicer to you.
I can't stand the thought of mean in school. I still REMEMBER what if felt like when I was a kid, and I can't stand the thought of going through it with my own child. Ughhh.
Gah, I so remember those school days when I was a kid. EVERYTHING mattered. Every look and word. Growing up is such a painful process. I'm scared to send my girls into that.
Sorry about the dark hormonal cloud. It's hard to fight some days, isn't it?
It's still called your Dad's birthday. I am glum on my Dad's birthday, and he's been dead 15 years.
I feel your pain on the mean girls thing. At one point, my own beloved daughter was being a mean girl to another and I was REALLY disturbed. How could the fruit of my womb harm some innocent? But lately it's been other 9 year olds who've been the perpetrators of meanness. Don't worry about high school - elementary school is big enough drama.
Feel better!
junior kindergarten? seriously? holy heck.
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