Hey, look! A blog post.
Wake up around 6:30.
Stumble downstairs and make a pot of industrial strength coffee.
Dress the Shriek Sisters.
Move dry clothes to a basket, move wet clothes to the dryer, put in another load of laundry.
Mediate fight #1 between the Shriek Sisters.
Fold the dry clothes.
Think about taking a shower.
Try to unclog the bathroom sink that I've been after the husband to fix for the last couple of weeks.
Mediate fight #2 between the Shriek Sisters.
Take the trash to the curb that the husband forgot to take when he left at 7 a.m..
Take the recycling to the curb that the husband forgot to take when he left at 7 a.m..
Mediate fight #3 between the Shriek Sisters.
Find the socks that the Shriek Sisters lost in one of their fights.
Find shoes for the Shriek Sisters.
Sign permission slip for O's trip next week.
Find money for O's trip next week.
Find jackets for the Shriek Sisters.
Pour industrial strength coffee into the only travel mug the husband hasn't swiped. He hasn't swiped it because it's hot pink. It was my only defense.
Load the Shriek Sisters into their car seats.
Drive O to school. Drink industrial strength coffee. Curse stoplights. Answer 8.7 million questions from the Shriek Sisters.
Come back home.
Feed the Shriek Sisters breakfast.
Feed the dog and cat.
Move dry clothes to basket, move wet clothes to dryer, put in another load of laundry.
Wash a few dishes.
Mediate fight #4 between the Shriek Sisters.
Vacuum up the Cheerios that the Shriek Sisters flung at each other during fight #4.
And it's only 8:15 a.m..
My days continue like this, with small variations, every single day. It's mind numbing in its tedium and I feel like it's sucking what little brain power I have left. And I wonder why I can't find anything to blog about any more. This is it, this is what I have going on right now. I'm busy, busy, busy but I have nothing going on. Nothing of interest, anyway.
I'm getting to the point of fantasizing about quiet places, places where no one asks me anything, where no one needs me for anything, where I can do whatever I want, whenever I want. Not for forever, just for a couple of days. I told my husband the other night that my ideal vacation right now would involve a hotel room with a big bath tub, a comfortable bed and a stack of books. I would sleep and read and make the occasional foray out for food and a bit of a walk around and that would be it.
I really need a break. Or something. I'm spending too much time wishing too many things away, wishing that the girls were in school full time, wishing that I could get a full-time job during the day so that I wasn't sitting here, feeling guilty about the state of things here, the chaos and the mess and the boredom. I know that things will be different in a couple of years and then I'll probably miss some of this time that I have at home with them, but right now, while I'm in it, I'm having trouble seeing the end of it. It's disheartening, to say the least.