I'm trying

and failing.

I know that is such a negative thing to say, but that's how I feel lately. That I am just not doing a very good job at the mother/single mom thing. I feel frazzled all the time, stressed out and pissy. I just literally slammed the door in a child's face becasue he claims to have left his ball here a few days ago and now wants it. A baseball. That he claims he has to have because it cost 20 dollars. Now, I'm not a big sports person, but I'm pretty sure a baseball doesn't cost 20 dollars and if it did, what the fuck were you doing playing with it, let alone leaving it at our house? I didn't like slam the door all mean old lady with the 100 cats kind of way, just firmly shut the door because he knocked and asked me if I could find it for him.

Yes, you read that correctly, the kids ASKED ME IF I COULD FIND IT FOR HIM. Seriously, what is the world coming to? It's not enough your own mother does everything for you, now you want your friend's mom to help out?

I guess I'm just pissed at that kid because he came barging in on our family time outside. It was nice, the dogs were making us laugh, the kids had played catch, me and Aislinn were sitting in the double glider talking while Jonny pretended a stick was a sword, and these two kids just come waltzing into our yard talking about how he needs his ball. He wasn't getting our subtle hints that his presence wasn't wanted. The kids helped him for a few minutes try to find it, but quite honestly, I had spent the whole day doing yard work, I didn't see that fucking ball. So, we went inside while the kids is poking around our shit, looking for his ball. THEN he knocks on our door and asks ME to find it?

Fuck off, kid.

So, you see. My patience is a little thin. While I was sitting there enjoying our family time, I also kept thinking, you have laundry to do, you have articles to write, you need to get the kids in the bath and into bed and you have to do this and that and this and that and then some more of this and then some more of that and AAAAAAHHHHH.

It's getting better the longer I go on, but I've finally hit the threshold for loving work. Now, it's work and it takes up 10 hours of my fucking day (12 on Fridays) and it sucks and I just don't WANT TO DO IT ANYMORE. Yet, I know even if I was ever in a position to not do it anymore, I'd still do it and I'd still piss and moan about it because that's how I roll, bitches.

Off to do some of that stuff I need to get done and then some of those other things after that. Yeah.