the wednesday ramble of the crazy mama

It's 12:13 pm.

My girls are down for naps.

Spice is screaming her ever lovin' head off.

It's what she does.

It's just what she does.

I was told that by changing her foods and ridding her of all the things she's allergic to that she'd sleep better and her attitude would change.

Lies.

All of them lies!

Yesterday was a very bad day. I kept reminding myself of the words I wrote to myself.

And I kept thinking...

lies, all of them lies!

Supposedly these are the best years. Supposedly I'm going to miss this age they're in. Supposedly they grow out of the tears and the whining and the crying and the screaming and the hitting and the driving me crazy.

Supposedly.

(unless you're Joey, then it's supposebly)

The thing I wanna know though, if these are such precious years, why do I loathe them so? Why do I feel so defeated? Why do I feel like putting my head under the covers at 6:30 every morning in hopes they don't find me? If these are such precious years why do I go to bed crying almost every night because of something I said or didn't say? Something I did or didn't do? Why do I want to change my name from Mama to Princess Never Gonna Have Kids?

I'm not doing it right.

I'm failing at this mothering deal.

I'm pretty sure my last post was a bunch of BS.

I don't think I'm gonna be surviving the day, the week or the month. Heck, I'm not sure if I'm going to make it til dinner tonight.

I'm glad I haven't bought the Kindergarten curriculum for Sugar. Do I really think I'm going to be able to homeschool in the midst of this chaos? I should give the kid a break from all the screaming and hitting from her sister. Give 'er a backpack and put 'er on a bus!

Pfffft. Forget it. I'm gettin' myself a backpack and gettin' on a bus.

stat.