I'm on the edge...just about ready to dive off the cliff into the ocean, and I'm not a good swimmer. This option sounds better than living through the rest of this summer in this stress-filled heat box that I call life. Does that sound desperate? I feel desperate. The stress is trying to keep children fed, entertained, stimulated and from killing each other. The heat part is just plain old hot ass Texas! How did I get here?
Central Texas particularly, the school district we live in has a pretty good special education program. The cost of living here is moderate in comparison to where I grew up and always thought I would live, southern California. There is no way we could afford to live there and have me dedicated to taking care of these high-maintenance children. We are here for them, but I have come to loathe the summers here. It's so hot that it's painful to be out during the day. I try to avoid it, if at all possible. I have fantasies of a summer home on the coast.
I seriously thought about taking out an ad somewhere:
"NEED A HOUSE SITTER in Southern California...I'm your girl! Responsible middle aged woman will take care of your property while you're away on vacation. Will feed your pets, water your lawn and keep the burglars away!"
The only catch is I come along with two children who may put holes in your walls when they have meltdowns.
This week, we have Art camp in the mornings for Blue and afternoon Movie camp for Red. This means I'm in it...driving around in the heat of the day. This morning I through in a haircut for Red. He was starting to look like a grizzly bear. He needs to start learning to shave. I've mentioned this to the hubby weeks ago...to no avail.
The trip to the barber shop means I rush back home after dropping off Blue. I give him a good hour and a half to get up, eat, get ready and out the door. He moves so slowly, it's excruciating to watch. He comes to get in the car after I have told him specifically to wash his face and brush his teeth. (Why do I still need to tell him to wash his face and brush his teeth? One might ask.) He comes to get in the car without washing his face.
"Did you wash your face?"
"No."
"Didn't I tell you to wash your face?"
"I forgot...what's the big deal?"
"The big deal is that oils are building up on your skin and you will end up going back to school with a bunch of acne on your face."
"Girls like other boys who have bumps on their face."
"How can you expect anyone to like you if you don't care enough about yourself to take care of your own body?"
We get to the barbershop. I get out of the car. He is still sitting there. I am sitting inside for 10 minutes while they finish up other customers. Red is still sitting in the car. It is already 85 degrees. Why is he sitting? I have no idea. I step out twice and wave to him. A what the hell are you doing? -kind of wave.
We get the haircut. He is back to his handsome self -minus the dirty face. He starts whining about being hungry. The whining gets louder and louder. Mind you -he has just finished breakfast an hour before. I refuse to go to Mc Donalds. I go to Subway and order a turkey sandwich. I am insisting on a healthier diet. I will no longer participate in the fast food nonsense. He complains of being so tired that he can't bend down to pick things up. "I'm too tired to walk up the stairs." He has gained weight on this new medicine. If you're too tired to bend down or walk...you certainly don't need a bacon-cheeseburger.
By the time I drop him off at camp...I am totally spent. I don't know how I'm going to survive this eternal summer. My sanity is seriously at stake here and it's only June.
These are my confessions...I have to finish this rant another time. Duty calls!
Help a sistah out! ...just a quick click here:
Central Texas particularly, the school district we live in has a pretty good special education program. The cost of living here is moderate in comparison to where I grew up and always thought I would live, southern California. There is no way we could afford to live there and have me dedicated to taking care of these high-maintenance children. We are here for them, but I have come to loathe the summers here. It's so hot that it's painful to be out during the day. I try to avoid it, if at all possible. I have fantasies of a summer home on the coast.
I seriously thought about taking out an ad somewhere:
"NEED A HOUSE SITTER in Southern California...I'm your girl! Responsible middle aged woman will take care of your property while you're away on vacation. Will feed your pets, water your lawn and keep the burglars away!"
The only catch is I come along with two children who may put holes in your walls when they have meltdowns.
This week, we have Art camp in the mornings for Blue and afternoon Movie camp for Red. This means I'm in it...driving around in the heat of the day. This morning I through in a haircut for Red. He was starting to look like a grizzly bear. He needs to start learning to shave. I've mentioned this to the hubby weeks ago...to no avail.
The trip to the barber shop means I rush back home after dropping off Blue. I give him a good hour and a half to get up, eat, get ready and out the door. He moves so slowly, it's excruciating to watch. He comes to get in the car after I have told him specifically to wash his face and brush his teeth. (Why do I still need to tell him to wash his face and brush his teeth? One might ask.) He comes to get in the car without washing his face.
"Did you wash your face?"
"No."
"Didn't I tell you to wash your face?"
"I forgot...what's the big deal?"
"The big deal is that oils are building up on your skin and you will end up going back to school with a bunch of acne on your face."
"Girls like other boys who have bumps on their face."
"How can you expect anyone to like you if you don't care enough about yourself to take care of your own body?"
We get to the barbershop. I get out of the car. He is still sitting there. I am sitting inside for 10 minutes while they finish up other customers. Red is still sitting in the car. It is already 85 degrees. Why is he sitting? I have no idea. I step out twice and wave to him. A what the hell are you doing? -kind of wave.
We get the haircut. He is back to his handsome self -minus the dirty face. He starts whining about being hungry. The whining gets louder and louder. Mind you -he has just finished breakfast an hour before. I refuse to go to Mc Donalds. I go to Subway and order a turkey sandwich. I am insisting on a healthier diet. I will no longer participate in the fast food nonsense. He complains of being so tired that he can't bend down to pick things up. "I'm too tired to walk up the stairs." He has gained weight on this new medicine. If you're too tired to bend down or walk...you certainly don't need a bacon-cheeseburger.
By the time I drop him off at camp...I am totally spent. I don't know how I'm going to survive this eternal summer. My sanity is seriously at stake here and it's only June.
These are my confessions...I have to finish this rant another time. Duty calls!
Help a sistah out! ...just a quick click here:
