Ha ha ha, bless your soul/You really think you're in control?

I am not doing well today.

Today I have yelled at both children. I have stomped upstairs twice like an angry kid. I have thought hateful thoughts about the people I love most in the whole world.

The day started with India stomping around in a foul mood. I finally coaxed her onto my lap, where she cried. We agreed this is hard. We're doing our best.

And then, when we discussed today's schedule--because we are trying hard to be on some sort of schedule--my kids lost it. Two different hours of school work?

And about this schedule. I will tell you, I have told you, that organization is not my strong suit.

I suck at outlines. In school I would get so hung up on the parallel. Is this B of equal importance to A? Or should it be a small a? But then there's no B. Shit. There has to be a B if you're going to  have an A.

As an adult I said screw it and all my outlines just have lines. No real hierarchy.

That's also how my email is. And my computer. Nick has folders and subfolders. For me, it's all just there.

I think this is how my brain is.

And at the moment, I'm confused. I can't organize. Everything feels elusive.

Nick got what felt like was all judgey about how we're spending our days. Which is with a lot of TV. Because, well, there are a lot of becauses.

Honestly, I just want to get back in bed. Like, all the time. Sometimes everything feels so heavy that it hurts to stay awake.

This is another way in which I feel like I'm failing. I have the energy to work out, to take my kids on a walk with the dog, but I don't have the energy to fight. You don't want to read in Spanish? You don't want to math?

It doesn't feel worth the fight. But then I'm failing in getting them to do what they're supposed to be doing.

But back to my no good horrible suck ass day, or whatever that book title is. Which is also really just kind of a continuation of all the days before it, just that I hit a point of not being able to deal with patience and compassion.

India lay down on the floor flailing, screaming, stomping. It was a tantrum like she used to have when she was little.

She calmed down and started pulling at her glasses frames.

At which point I yelled, "DON'T BREAK YOUR GLASSES!"

And then she started to cry and Jordan turned to me and yelled, "YOU'RE A JERK!"

And then Nick sent me upstairs.

Which is where I was heading in a rage anyway. Because he goes to work and I deal with all the bullshit.

And then he comes home and when I ask he says his day was stressful.

And I think, seriously? Did any of your employees have a screaming fucking fit about brushing their fucking teeth? Did you have to cajole, struggle, bribe any of your clients into their fucking socks and shoes to take a walk in nature to improve their moods? Did anyone shit all over you when you tried to get them to do a minuscule amount of work? Do they tell you they're SO BORED every 10 minutes?

No? Huh.

And then, then I also feel like a big fucking loser.

Because most parents are having to maintain their jobs during this. They have to do actual work, and get their kids to do something constructive, or at least keep them entertained and fed.

Me, now, my entire job is keeping my children from losing their everloving minds, feeding them, and making them do a modicum of schoolwork.

And when Jordan was a jerk about doing an online Spanish book, first telling me how stupid it was, then being rude when I couldn't immediately locate the one he wanted, and then reading out loud in the gringo-est accent he could muster, I lost my shit.

And yelled. AAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGH! AAAAAAAARRRRRRGH!

This is approximately what I yelled. At the top of my voice.

My throat hurt after I did it.

Jordan burst into tears. My mother went to comfort him. I went back upstairs.

India came up after a bit and said, "Do you need a hug?"

I do. I really, really do.