Is It Friday YET?!

This has been an incredibly long week. At least it feels like it. I can't tell yet if that is the burnout I am still experiencing from last weekend's big events, or if I have just gotten older and I am more tired and more easily irritable.

I have increased the mileage I am walking each week--I did 3.64 miles yesterday and back to 2.67 today...but my weekly average is way up. And my mind is running faster than that, as it seems to have much to retain and remember and prod me to get done.

I was so tired that last evening I fell asleep watching mindless TV with Genius Golfer, who, I suspect, might have wanted to get frisky after the show. What a sad wife I am. Then I sat up awake for another hour being mad at myself for NOT giving him the time he needs. I mean, he was home before 9 PM for crying out loud. I would have been nice to spend some of that time consciously with him

Afterschool yesterday seemed to be the breaking point for me.

The Girl skipped swim practice so she could study and review and study some more for her AP Government exam that is coming on Tuesday. The Boy, on the other hand, plopped himself down in his usual seat in front of the TV and tried to load a gift card for another twelve months on his Xbox Live account--so he can play some war game that I hate with his cousins and friends online from the comfort of his own TV chair. Well, he couldn't get the Xbox to recognize his account since he couldn't remember his password.

Now, as an organized mom I have a special place where I keep all the kids' computer/electronics info so, in the event such as this, I could help him. But the little nerd never gave me his Xbox info. (Probably thought I'd sabotage his account--'cause I really don't like this game, but no one listened to mean 'ole mom--and he is probably right about the potential for sabotage.) So I had nothing to help him. He called GG and railed on him for tricks to open this (dumb) Xbox account. When GG didn't have anything for him to try, The Boy came back to yell at me.

Now, I can take it when they have good reason to yell at me. And to be honest, they generally do have some good reasons, some times. But this was not one of those times.

Anyhoo, he kept trying different potential passwords and after about 45 minutes of weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth, he finally guessed correctly. And he got on to play that insipid game.

Fast forward a bit--about 5, I leave The Girl to study, and I leave The Boy with a reminder that he has X, Y, and Z chores to get done tonight. I take off to help set up and host a dinner for the Leaders of, the Moms of, and the Young Women in our stake that are graduating from HS. I was gone for about 3 1/2 hours.

I got home to a house that hasn't been touched since I left--with the exception of part of the lawn that had been poorly mowed and not cleaned up or swept or finished in any way. Blinds were still open. Porch lights were not on. Dishes were not finished. But that blasted game was still on and going...like the Energizer Bunny was playing it. And I guess, he was, just in a different form: The Boy!

I was ticked.

Genius Golfer had beaten me home by about 15 minutes. It was clear his day at work wasn't much better than my afternoon with the Bedlamites we are raising. And the joy of motherhood was sucked from my life for a moment. It was so disappointing.

Now, The Boy did sheepishly come and try to apologize, once I yelled at him to shut off that ridiculous game and get his stuff done, shocking him back to reality. But by then, I was ready to give up. Throw in the towel. Raise the white flag.

Friday couldn't come soon enough for me.

And some of my friends and family wonder why I hate the song "Love at Home" with such a passion?!?! Mother's Day (and the whole idea around it) is just a reminder of the things that I am not doing well enough--i.e., controlling my temper, teaching moderation or responsibility or thoughtfulness or accountability, being a good example of kind, loving, nurturing parenting.

Wake me when it is Tuesday.