I’m Alive and (Un)Well

For anyone who’s wondering if I’m dead because I’ve been incommunicado, I’m not dead.  I’m just in a dark place.  Or maybe I AM dead and this is hell.  I’m ready for summer vacation to end and there’s still 6 weeks to go.  Somehow, even with day camp and our team of caregivers – the nanny, the mother’s helper, and random relatives who fill in as needed, I’m struggling.  The fact that nobody is listening to me is even more evident when they’re not listening to me for a greater number of hours per day.  I just don’t get it because outside of my house, people listen to me.  They usually even do what I say.  But as soon as I step through the door of my home, I may as well be mute.

And the house…oh, the house makes me want to rob Ty’s Pies at gunpoint so I have to go to jail, where I would do something inappropriate so I could be put into solitary confinement.  If I didn’t already have a full-time job, I could make a full-time job out of picking up after the kids.  Just for fun, I kept track of what I picked up OFF THE FLOOR ONLY, for a 6-hour period.  Two of the kids were out of the house for more than 3 of the 6 hours, and the list below does not include anything that I picked up off of furniture, etc., ONLY THE FLOOR. The list doesn’t include a large-scale bedroom clean-up, or cleaning food off the approved eating area floors either.

Clothing:  22
Toys:  12
Legos & Lincoln Logs:  19
Spills:  2
Books:  24
Games:  5
Writing Implements:  4
Wrappers, Papers, Trash:  26
Bedding:  4
Food:  8
Shoes:  7
iPod:  1
Fuse Beads:  49
Other:  12

WHY???????? What am I doing wrong here?  And don’t tell me to make them pick it up because I DO make them clean up after themselves.  I’m constantly demanding that they appear front-and-center to pick up something that doesn’t belong where it is.  But I’m worn out, and sometimes I don’t even have the energy to tell them to pick up their crap.

And then there’s the constant noise.  The fighting, the whining, the screeching…it makes me want to stab a chopstick into each ear and put myself out of my misery.  I literally wear earplugs on car trips and I’m thinking about just going 24/7 with them.  How can it be that my Facebook friends are writing about their blissful summer days and I’m trying to get arrested?

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So, I was feeling like this post was too negative, nobody wants to listen to me rant about my kids, etc., so I went downstairs to get a cup of coffee which I was hoping would put me in a better mood.  Then…I smelled poop.  Yep…a big pile of dog-diarrhea.  Thank God I didn’t step in it or I swear I might have gone Ya-Ya and headed down to the Motel 6 for a few days.

Why did the dog poop on the rug?  I’ll tell you why – because someone gave her PEOPLE-FOOD!  I guarantee it!  I’ve told all of them at least 900 times not to give the pets people-food, yet they continue to do it!  Why am I the one cleaning up the poop?!?!

Whatever mood-lifter I might have used to end this post on a bright note just went down the toilet with dog-diarrhea, so I apologize.  If you’re like the rest of the people I’m surrounded with, you won’t have heard a word I just said anyway.