What the heck? Shite is hard again.
Can I blame it on August? August, as much as I try to make it otherwise, really sucks around here.
It's humid (which drains my energy beyond all rational explanation), summer school is out (my middle child is on an IEP and attends six extra weeks of school), rules and structure have slowly slipped away and the shite has hit the fan. As it does every year.
Anyhoo. Last August was the worst for me. It preceded what turned out to be a really difficult year.
In August of last year, above mentioned middle child had some major behavior issues which sucked all the life out me and made me sadsadsad and a little defeated. Then, I had a bit of a major mental freak in September. You know, the kind where you are so troubled, your friend makes you go see your doctor, but she's on vacation, so you see her colleague who you've never met, and you proceed to hysterically cry during the appointment and that doctor doesn't even try to disguise the fear and panic on her face as she writes you a prescription for zoloft and diazepam and helps you schedule a visit to the psychiarist stat. No? Oh. Maybe that was just me. Then Husband lost his job. Yes, it was a job working for a boss who tried to kill Husband's spark and destroy Husband's soul, but it was a steady job, and Husband actually liked doing the job and many other people he worked with, so losing that job hurt Husband.
This was just about the time I started really hitting the wine/cocktail/beer with gusto. I mean, people even told me it made sense to drink more during such a stressful time, so it just seemed to make sense.
But I digress...where was I? August.
So, here we are again. And, I'm tah-rye-ing, I really am. But I'm pissed. Irritated. Short-tempered. I'm working on keeping my shite together, working so hard my upper torso is rock hard. Not in a fit way, but in a muscles-knotted-from-tension way.
After a particularly hard few days (which not-coincidentally coincide with a heat wave...oh the humidity!) of an almost-four-year-olds practically constant screaming (if she's not tantruming, she's actually screaming for fun), combined with the constant noise of three children (I shite you not, all of my kids are hummers/chanters...yesterday in the car on the way to a morning activity camp the little one was happily chanting, 'nighnighnighnigh'...no idea what that means...the middle child was angrily whispering WHISPERING! creepy contrary phrases to her sister. There is actually no human way to concentrate during this. The only thing missing was oldest child's constant battle noises (you know...twiptwip/bshhh/ppttttppttt/pcowwww!)
Wait...lost my thoughts...a few hard days...yes. So, I've turned to Lord of the Flies* parenting. You know: Work together or perish in violence? I tried to get the girls back to camp this morning. I had everyone dressed and ready. Then they started in on each other again (can't we all just get along??), and oldest child did something upsetting (hacked the parental control of his kindle), so I stopped. I went outside with the dog, watered some plants, came in and made more coffee and stopped. Stopped talking, stopped injecting myself and my perceived helpful policing of their arguments, just...stopped. Went upstairs with the dog and coffee, hid the kindle and ipad (just in case!) and folded laundry. Of course, eventually they are asking for tv. Thankfully, I'd already hidden the remote.
So far, I'm keeping it together. Heck, it's almost 2pm and I haven't even yelled yet! The younger two are actually playing together fairly well (yes, they have every pillow from the living room and den, plus two blankets, most of a box of saltines, a few juice boxes and granola bars scattered all throughout the downstairs). But my head hurts, my neck hurts, my chest hurts. Yesterday I had a fleeting thought of cold white wine. Fleeting, but the thought was somehow comforting. Egads.
Husband called to say he has a work thing tonight. I told him we are fine and I'm keeping it together. He suggested yoga. Yes. I should stretch this shite out. Off I go!
*youngest child is only dressed in underwear and has marker all over her face...all she needs is a spear and conch.