Under Pressure

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October 9, 2009 by Marj Hatzell

Even though it is business as usual around here, it’s still so tense it could be cut with a knife. I kid you.  Blame it on our weekend away, but my boys have been unusually difficult to deal with this week.  They’ve been whiny, not sleeping well, not eating well, more hyper than usual (I DID NOT KNOW THIS WAS POSSIBLE) and downright cranky.  I need a vacation to recuperate.  This is why we never go anywhere, because it is almost not worth coming back to it.  The weeks it takes them to pay us back, that is.

It would be soooooo nice if I could just, I dunno, sleep?  From the time I put my head on the pillow until the alarm goes off?  That would be great.  I’d also like to get a nap.  For some reason, even though most of the western world knows that I take my naps from 1-3 (for up to an hour, I try to squeeze it in during that time frame) to catch up on the sleep I’m not getting at night, PEOPLE CONTINUE TO CALL ME FROM ONE UNTIL THREE.  And then leave messages like, “Oh. I guess you are taking your nap!  I’ll call you later!”   I turn off the ringer on the phone upstairs but I have to leave it on downstairs in case it is a school calling.Grrrr…And then they try my cell phone because I’m not picking up my home phone and then I get a text, just so someone can tell me that they are fed up with their kids and need more sleep.


Look, I know I have this bad habit of making myself overly-available for people. I volunteer for everything, say yes even when I know I should say know and help friends/family members at the drop of a hat, even if it means giving up my own relaxation.  It’s just who I am. It’s in my blood, helping others.  I get many rewards from it.  It feels good.  Just please, for the love of Pete, don’t call me during that time.

Just sayin’.

You know what else would be great? If my kids would actually do something I ask them to do. I know all kids pull this crap. I know all kids ignore their parents. My kids?  Can’t lift a glass of water to their lips without being prompted.  They are staring off into LA-LA LAND, or doing headstands on their chairs, or crawling around on my filthy kitchen floor, or twirling their hair, or … or say I send Bug Boy to his room to get, A PAIR OF PANTS, it would be nice if he, I dunno, got a pair of pants and put them on instead of rearranging his rock collection, charging his solar-powered light, climbing under his bed to check out glow-in-the-dark stuff or changing his socks.

/end rant

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