Some Days I Want to Scream

And lately it has been most days. It isn't that my days are really horrible, it is just that I have too many things to do in them, and all of them must be done.

Having a full schedule doesn't go well with having children. Children are not efficient. They dawdle because they haven't yet learned that you have to hit the floor running and keep running and flop down exhausted by the end of the day, overwhelmed by all the things still left on your "to do" list. I wish I was still a child.

When James was born, Trista gave me a beautiful picture of a mother bending over her baby's cradle and adoring her baby. With it was the poem about telling cobwebs and dust to take a long walk off a short pier, or something like that. I think of that poem often as I am zooming around cleaning the house, yelling out instructions about grammar rules, throwing laundry in the washer or dryer, and telling my son whether office supplies should go in the assets or liabilities column of his balance sheet. If you hear me yelling at the laundry or telling the piles of dirt I have swept up to button up and go to sleep, you will know why. I am trying to rock my baby because I hear they don't keep. The fact that my kids are involved with housekeeping chores and that the house is fairly orderly doesn't mean there isn't a great deal of stress involved with it at times. Maybe if I had a maid...

Next month will be better, please Lord! Next month no swimming lessons twice a week, and hopefully all the dental appointments will be done.

I can always hope, right?