Working on an Aneurism

I love my life. I repeat this every day. Getting up at 7am (okay it's 7:20am) and rushing to drag my children out of MY bed (the expensive themed bed sets I got each one isn't good enough to sleep on) and rushing out the door by 7:45am..

pulling up just in enough time to get on the phones and listen to people bitch about their bills.

pulling change out of my ass for the vending machine, which should NEVER be expected to give you what you want immediately. It either gets stuck or takes about five minutes to drop.

Then getting out of work, going about eighty miles an hour to pick up the kids because god forbid I'm late.. wouldn't want to pay a late fee. Like it's some sort of library or movie rental place.

Oh by the way, I just did my taxes. I paid out 17% of my gross income to daycare alone.. AND THAT'S WITH GOVERNMENT ASSISTANCE! What is wrong with that?? I have to work to put them in daycare, and I have to put them in daycare to work. SOMEONE IS MAKING OUT!

So, anyways, I get the kids home, and it's quarter to six. I essentially have two hours to make dinner, do what ever laundry is needed for the next day, MAYBE even clean before baths and bedtime. Which, bedtime at this juncture is optional. The kids usually fall asleep on the couch or something until I'm ready to go upstairs.

One day we might make it to our OWN beds before 9pm. Better mom's would scold me, but eh.

I can't even think of the fact that Abby will be school age next year and she can't count past five. I want to sit down with her and show her how to write a letter, but half the time something else has me.. Like michael, or laundry, or staring off into space. I was thinking I'd buy some activity books for her to write in at the kitchen table..

OH WAIT ! I DON'T HAVE A KITCHEN TABLE!

Grr. just add it to the list.

along with ; new fridge, new dryer, a box spring that isn't cut down the middle, and an actual bed for michael with lots and lots of gates! (to keep him in his room and away from the staircase)

So now their asleep and I might be online. Fearing to go to sleep, because it means it all starts over again.

If anxiety doesn't kill me off, anxiety will.