Swear to God, I have been attracting all the crazy people lately. There's been other stuff going on, too, but now I am paranoid that this other whack job mom will somehow find this blog and know I think that she is nuts, too. I have decided it is easier to give nutty moms the warm brush, rather than be completely honest about how I feel about them since our kids go to the same school. And really I don't want to work it out with this mom. She definitely has issues, but is one of those people who thinks that everyone else around her is doing her wrong. Oh my God, that sounds like me right now. Honestly, I am the one sane, normal person right now. That doesn't happen often, but it is the case this time. Even my husband thinks so this time and he'd be the first to call me out.
Back to complaints...Tom and I are supposed to go away for one night this weekend to Vermont for my upcoming 40th birthday. My parents are coming to watch the kids. The drag is that I have so much preparation for them to come and do this for us, that it just doesn't feel worth it. I don't know if I just think my parents are incapable of taking care of themselves or what (yet, I feel secure with them watching my children.Hmm...) I am making lunch and dinner for them for Saturday. Not for my kids, but for my parents. My kids won't eat what I am making and I know they will happily eat whatever else is there. Plus it is one day. They can feed them a bowl of candy for dinner and I'd be fine.
In addition, it is going to rain all day on Saturday. Normally, I don't mind rain. I kind of like a rainy day, but after spending 8 fucking hours outside in it with a bunch of 8 year olds and no coffee, it just pisses me off to think it is going to rain on our one day away. I wanted to be outside, maybe hike a mountain, drink a latte on a park bench or just not get wet. I just feel cranky and want to feel sorry for myself over something stupid. I know how lucky I am. I never forget it. It's the not so fully recovered Catholic in me. I feel guilty for even writing that.
I am so tired. Better go climb into the bottom bunk in my son's room. Hey, at least he's out of MY bed;)