I am still, as one commenter suggested the other day, keeping my eyes on the prize of going out tomorrow night. I found some laughter at a friend's house yesterday afternoon. I was so grateful for that. I didn't feel like I'd smiled all week, and I know I've cried multiple times. I do not often cry, but this week has just about done me in. I had to leave Doodlebug at home while Boo and I went, and he was heartbroken because he didn't get to see his friend, but he still hadn't completed his school work, and so the natural consequence was that he had to stay home and try to get it done.
Today, since Fridays are light days in school, I had been really, really hoping would be better. It was not. Boo spent an hour today arguing with me that 8th notes are called 18th notes, that 16th notes don't exist, and that it takes four '18th notes' to make a quarter note. She's also spent a good part of the day attempting to communicate with me via text from her bedroom. I'm not responding. I'm tired of her thinking that she's too privileged to walk the 50 feet from her room to the living room to talk to me face-to-face.
Oz and I had planned to let Boo have a sleepover Sunday night, since the public schools are out on Monday. I was going to see if she and her friend and possibly Doodlebug (and maybe some other friends) wanted to go see a Harry Potter science exhibit that's showing right now. All she had to do was make sure her room was clean (i.e. no big piles of stuff, clothes put away, and I asked her to mop her floor since it was covered in footprints and animal fur). I had also asked her to pick up the books we currently keep in the game room. She assured me the books were picked up. She assured me her room was clean.
And then I found out she'd lied to me. I glanced in the game room and saw books strewn everywhere. I walked into her room and felt grit under my feet. I walked around to the far side of her bed and saw piles of clothing jutting out from underneath it. I almost burst into tears - yet again - at the sight.
Her sleepover is cancelled.
I'm so tired of being lied to.
I'm so tired of the kids thinking they can just ignore me whenever it's convenient.
I'm so tired of yelling and repeating myself over and over and over.
I'm just tired.
I threatened to turn in my parenting card to a select few friends on Facebook the other day. They sympathized, and I did (do) appreciate their thoughts, but I still wonder what sort of karmic hell I'm in and what I did in a past life to deserve this.
Doodlebug is no better. We cleaned his room out, together, in early December, but it's already a complete shambles (again), so yesterday I pulled everything out (again) so we could put things where they go (again). He told me he wanted to take care of it. I asked him if he was sure. He said he was. I asked him if he wanted help. He said he wanted to do everything on his own to prove that he could. I told him that I wanted his clothes - just the clothes, nothing else - put away by this evening at dinnertime and reminded him that his lizard cage had to be cleaned since there was poop in the food dish and shed skin everywhere. At 12:30, he was in his room and told me he was working. At 4 he told me he'd gotten half his clothes folded and yelled at me and his sister because we were 'distracting' him and 'keeping him from working.' Never mind that he'd spent half the afternoon hooting and barking at his sister and ignoring my repeated attempts to get him to focus. At 6, which is dinnertime, he'd finished... nothing. At 6:30, he put the container of diluted bleach water on his bed, where he's been repeatedly asked NOT to set it, and then sat down next to it. His weighted blanket, bedspread, pants, shirt, and underwear promptly got soaked. His weighted blanket is in the washer, but I made him throw the outfit out. He was mad because it was his good pair of Polo jeans, but what else do you do with jeans that are now sporting a bleached butt?
It's 7:30 now. Oz and I ate bratwurst, spaetzle, and roasted butternut squash for dinner. The kids are having flax cereal and bananas. Boo has eaten and is getting ready for bed. She has to get up early for a group violin lesson in the morning.
This is assuming I have the motivation to get out of bed. It may not happen.