Like any other normal and somewhat loving mother, I like having my boys home. School makes them ornery and irritable and snappy. At home I get sweetness... cough, cough... to a point. Mainly I am talking about myself.
I can't put into writing how many times I've put myself into time out this week. Mainly my time outs consist of shutting myself up in my studio and stuffing my fingers in my ears. I have routinely bribed myself with food and fun in trade of an attitude adjustment and I have instituted a manditory nap.
How the heck did I get so bad at mothering?
I'd blame school, but that would make me look like an ass of a parent. So, I'm going to blame the school. Oops. Every day I get a long quiet section of time stretching from 8:30 am to 3:30 pm and I fill it with painting and writing and cleaning. I have a moment to gather my thoughts and get my head in the game about five minutes before I go pick up the boys and then the rest of the evening revolves around them. I'd whine and say that I really miss the quiet and all that blah blah blah. Nope, it's time for some straight talk.
Time to get off my butt. Time to think of something to do with the kids that doesn't involved the TV, the Wii or the computer. Time to whip my kids into shape and get going on my day... that is, once I get myself out of timeout.
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