February, eh? I've made it through the first third of the winter darkness.
I am a bit quiet about that this morning. I mean, 1/3 of the way through some of the crappiest weather means that I still have 2/3 left to go. (See mah math skillz? That's talent. That's pure, homeschooling TAHL. ANT.) Isn't there a rodent that's supposed to have a big celebration today? Shoot. A GOOD homeschooling mom would have had an art project and word find and shit for groundhog's day. Fabulous. I suck. Maybe I can dig out some brown paper and felt. They can make a rodent for the window. Because nothing says "Festive February!" more cheerfully than sticking a furry critter that lives in the dirt on your front window...
Pardon me while I chug my coffee. And eat homemade bread. Yes! I made bread. I watched Food Inc. and will now be paranoid about antibiotics and "unpronounceable food" for a while. Bear with me while I write about attempting to be more "natural". All that in addition to finding a cheap way to humidify the house (dry skin! breathing issues! all because of the lack of humidity!!), dress from the current decade (keep your husband interested! Don't let yourself Goooooo!!!), maintain the laundry, pay most of the bills, help the starving children, and organize the million and one other tiny details that constantly run through my head. (Thanks to late night/early morning t.v., I am exposed to waaaaaay more "causes" and "issues" that a conscientious person is "supposed" to be attentive to. I now have so many issues in my brain that I can't fully devote myself to ANYTHING...) Is it any wonder that I am perpetually awake at night?
Too much. I have too much in my head. I would like to wake up in the morning and KNOW what is expected of me without having to be in charge of it all. You know what I'd really like? I would like to be thanked for the stuff that I do: The homemade pizza and bread on Sunday. The hour spent wrapping a damn arrow for Justin's Cub Scout award. The mountain of laundry that I have managed to hack away at after 3 weeks of not being able to do it. The schoolwork I prepare, the fights I break up, the countless hours that I AM patient and kind (and not having them all wiped away by the loss of my temper after weeks and weeks of being "On" every hour, every day).
You know what is bugging me? I thanked Patrick for changing the cat box, yesterday. Why did I do that? He didn't ask to be thanked. He didn't deserve to be thanked. It was, after all, just the cat box. They are our cats and they needed to be cared for, so when I said, "please change the cat box" and he took care of it, why did I feel compelled to reward him with praise? My rudimentary psychology knowledge knows that it is because I am looking to be praised. I want him to look me in the eyes and say "You really ARE doing a good job." This year has been a big change for our family and I feel I have succeeded in some ways and am floundering in others. Overall, though, I know our year has been decent. And without a paycheck or review or a gold star to stick on my wall, I am feeling quite dreary this February 1st. Where's my damn gold star?!?
Of course, having pounded these words onto my keyboard has alleviated much of my Monday morning stress. Though I'm not quite "chipper", I am definitely more willing to get up and make a worksheet for Evan, lay out the paints for Corinne, and prepare myself for Justin's complaints about his workload (more Algebra! A new science lesson!).
Either that, or the coffee has finally kicked in.
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