i've been surfing the blogosphere here and I am taking comfort in the fact that it has been an ugly week for a lot of people.
yesterday i took the trash out after dinner and almost kept walking down the block. when I finally got back to the door, Z was standing there looking rather concerned. I opened the door and she said "no working mommy" I think she knew I was thinking about ditching.
Perhaps that due to the fact that I cried while sweeping the floor after dinner. C&Z were eating yogurt pops I made with some leftover (read: almost spoiled) melon from last week. Why did I cry? I could think of no reason that I should not walk promptly into the bathroom and take a handful of something in a prescription bottle. I am pretty sure Sam the Mentally Insane Kitten who Bites People would have been a better parent yesterday.
Whilst I was sweeping and crying, C said "oh mommy! what wrong? why cying?" (there is no 'r' in this word) and Z tried to beep my nose. with her nasty sticky yogurt hands as she refuses to eat the icepop off the stick and requires '"pieces!" (requires being the kind way to word this so as not to expose her dictatorial nature)
I did not run away or kill myself. Or get divorced over frozen strawberries. which is another story entirely. And, I maintain, not my fault. But it was good to read around and see that there must be some astrological explanation for the ungodly horror that has been the world of mommy.
Can I have an "amen"?