*** edit – I didn’t realize I pretty much said most of this in today’s earlier post. Sorry for complaining so much. Read it if you want. Oh, and that earlier subject line… well… don’t ask. ***
I felt like such a bitch when he came in, interrupting my reading yet again, to tell me some random story he’d made up about objects flying. I laughed without heart and told him mama needed to get some reading done. When he came in to describe the tower he’d built out of blocks I smiled and sent him away. WHen he came to tell me he’d built the tower BIGGER I went and ooh’d and aah’d for a while and came back. When he returned yet again to tell me it had fallen so now he’d rebuilt it taller than himself I came in and took a picture of it.
He gets so bored being home with me all day. I have so much to do, that even though I feel guilty for enjoying the little bits of time we do get to play -at the same time I don’t feel it’s enough. Then there’s the schoolwork I’m neglecting and the money I could be earning while I’m stealing moments away to wrestle with him or give him hugs and kisses or help him past the hard part in his video games.
I love capitolism as much as the next working class american who’s never made enough money to be comfortable -but why does it have to be assumed that the children will raise themselves while you’re putting every ounce of strength and resourcefulness to keeping you head above water? Sometimes I just want to cry.
Mercury retrogrades also have this habit of making me feel as if I’m trapped in my own head and the thoughts that constantly beat me up are totally running the show. I want out!