Thursday, July 25, 2013

Day Forty Nine- An Explanation

This is what its come to-- I'm afraid of my computer. Well, not the machine itself, but the mere sitting down to use it. The price it costs me is exhausting. Because, somehow, some way, my life goes full-tilt crazy when I touch the keys.

I've come to the conclusion that summertime is at fault. My people have been with me, all around me, for 49 days. Granted, I love them. Even adore them. But I love them more when they're at school. True story. Lately, by the time 4:00 rolls around, and they've been talking all day, I find myself thinking, "You're so much prettier when you're quiet."

Finding time to actually sit down at the computer is a task all by itself. Actually, that's not true. There's time, but it's interrupted every 3.4 minutes with a complaint, whine, fight, request, meltdown or screaming match. Just the idea of completing a full, intelligent thought and having the time to type it all out, is futile.

And then there are the days I dare myself to linger on Pinterest. Because, even that has become a scary place. Did you know that there are real mothers out there that make lemonade stands with their kids? They even print up darling banners and decorate a table. Then they stand back and take beautiful pictures of the whole shebang and post them on the Internet. I am completely mystified by these kinds of mothers.

I am not a lemonade stand kind of mom. In fact, if everyone is still alive every night at bedtime, I consider myself a genius. And on the days where I can fanagle my sister into taking 1 or 2 of my kids, I feel qualified for a scholarship to MIT. In my book, that level of intelligence definitely deserves a darling banner and decorated table. Amen.

The Husband called yesterday and asked, "How's your day?" I had to pause at that, offer a long sigh, and then explain: This is day 48 of summer. Unless all the children are in your possession, the answer to that is so blaringly obvious, I could punch you for even asking.

I hope you're enjoying summer as much as I am.

No comments :