“Everyone just go to bed. I don’t give a shit anymore.”
That’s how this evening just ended.
I’m tired. I’m tired of no one coming home with their stuff. I’m tired of my “go to bed” reminder going off and I’m still in my heels, pencil skirt and it’s no where near bedtime for me or them. I’m tired of being asked to do things for the next day when I’m already at my breaking point and they had ample opportunity to ask other adults for help.
Smaller Child: “mom, it’s (inset fundraiser) time. Can you call/post to get pledges by tomorrow. If you do, I could get two things.” (Of value less than $5 total.)
Me: “No! No! No! No! Don’t ask me to do anything for the next day after 8 pm ever again!”
This leads into a several minute rant regarding my time versus the school’s time and how they can fundraise on their own time if they would like, but I refuse!!! Followed by tears from the back seat.
Me (to larger child): “I just need your lunchbox.”
Larger Child: “well…I…”
Me: “everyone go to bed, I don’t give a shit anymore.”
She’s been at school since 7:30 am. She has had fast food and cheered two basketball games. She’s 12. I get it.
But what I don’t get is why school priorities trump home priorities. What if I just decide to forget to take care of them because I have to work. Can I call the Department of Adult Protective Services on my Kids? Seriously?
Goodnight…and remember tomorrow when you see my kids, I don’t give a shit!
Sex and the Motherhood 
Oh my god – the number of lunchboxes I have never seen again (or did during parents evening, and discovered new life forms in them). I have never agreed with so much written by somebody else ever.
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[…] beyond exhaustion, financial brokenness and the brink of socially acceptable sanity. My last post Hello, Adult Protective Services… left me with a lot of guilt. Like a football kicker, parents have one job. You know what I mean, […]
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