I am trying to keep the kids busy which means not staying at home which means the house is always trashed. I am sure this also has to do with apathy on my part, since my husband is gone.
Other than that, I am counting down the days until school starts and some other adult can entertain my kids so I don't have to continually think of things to keep them happy and from fighting so I don't end up in the asylum.
The other evening I was at the end of my rope and Maren started screaming BLOODY FRIGGIN MURDER in the backseat so I immediately pull into a parking lot and throw the van in park to yank her out and beat her ass. Turns out she dropped her taco in her lap and it was hot. Yeah. After consoling her (no, I promise I didn't beat her) I get in and throw the van into drive and immediately run over a concrete obstacle in the middle of the parking lot, which I did not see before because of the screaming child. At this point I can barely speak, I get out of the van and try to check to see if anything is wrong with it, but it's 102° out, plus heat rising from the asphalt...so I just threw a fit, jumping up and down, screaming as many expletives as I could muster in the horrid heat. Here's the irony: Approximately 60 days into Shawn's first deployment, when Blake was a baby, I ran the side of my van down the interior wall of a building in Germany. No, I was not drunk, I just could not get the van off the wall once I hit it, the curve was so tight. And then a gate shut behind us and we were locked in the park house for about an hour. But that's another story.
This story ends nicely. There is no damage to the van, it drives fine. I, on the other hand, may end up in the looney bin without prescription meds soon. This is why public school was invented, so mothers would not end up needing electroshock therapy. Although walking around in your robe and slippers all day playing games in your head like Martini seems quite a sweet dream...except for the Nurse Ratched part. Maybe McMurphy will save the day.
