A Peachy band-aid

I had a freaking meltdown tonight.

I’m feeling kind of behind at work. I’m not really, but I feel that way and I’m not exactly sure why.

I got several phone calls from the school nurse today. I honestly am not exactly sure WHY she called me 4 times. She basically just bitched and complained about my kid for a few minutes each time, all about things that I really have no control over. I cannot force Princess Punk to have a good attitude. I cannot force her to listen to the nurse. I cannot monitor her every movement to make sure she is testing where and when she is supposed to, eating the food we provide her and not something else, and not sneaking various things into her backpack that she knows damn well aren’t supposed to be there. Today it was a steroid pill… no package, just the pill… “I didn’t know it was in my bag.” Whatever. I’m not a fucking hall monitor. I can only do so much checking, searching and nosing around, I am not omniscient.

Went to pick up The Peach at daycare… She didn’t want to leave. Mommy is boring and mean and stupid and daycare has fun toys and screaming kids and a carpet on the floor where I get some traction and can work up some speed when I make a beeline across the floor. She started screaming as soon as I got her in the car. And yelled at me the whole way home.

I had to borrow money from My Parents because my checking account was overdrawn and the fuel gauge on my car was less than E. Like I don’t think it could physically go down any farther. And I put $15 in and the gauge didn’t even go up to a quarter tank. And I don’t get paid until Thursday. And I have to make TWO trips to Burlington before then. Oh, and we have no milk or bread in the house.

When I got home, it was cold and raining and The Peach is heavy in that stupid car seat and even with The Zen Master coming outside to help me, both The Peach and myself were quite wet when we got inside.

And The Princess was watching TV. Without her chores being done. Her bathroom smelled so bad this morning that I closed the door so I didn’t have to deal with it. And when I told her to do what she was actually supposed to do, she copped a ‘tude and bitched at me.

The Zen Master asked me if I was okay.

And I. Lost. My. Shit.

I cried hysterically for about 5 minutes ranting incoherently about how tired I was about all of this crap and how I was sick of having all the responsibility and headache of being an adult with none of the perks since we were too broke to do anything fun and both of my children seem to prefer to be with anyone else besides Mommy. The Zen Master stood there with The Peach looking bewildered and helpless. I finally eased up a bit and noisily blew my nose and stood there in front of my husband, red-nosed and sniffling and feeling sorry for myself.

And The Peach flung herself out of her fathers arms into mine (luckily I actually caught her) and gave me a hug. A little, slobbery, uncoordinated hug. She dug her fat little fingers into my boobs (yeah, ouch) and bonked her forehead against my collarbone and nuzzled into my neck. And sighed.

And quick as a flash it was done and she squirmed out of my arms onto the floor where she promptly crawled into my bedroom and ate a foof of Fairy Dog hair on the floor.

She didn’t fix it, but she damn sure made me feel better.


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