This is me. Not literally, of course. I mean, I've had three babies. My body won't resemble this ever again. But...metaphorically. Every morning I wake up, it is getting more difficult to face the day - going to work all day long, rushing home so that the kids aren't here alone long, dinner, homework, laundry, dishes, baths, bedtime, try to unwind, count the hours of sleep I am not going to get. Then do it all over again.
I am tired of being a full time working mother. I could handle part time. What I find is that I am so exhausted by the time I get home, I am shortchanging my kids and husband. It's just that simple. And I'm not happy with it. Sure, the paycheck is helpful, but what am I losing for that blue piece of paper?
In other news...
The school. Yep, another incident. This time, it is with the youngest child. Yesterday she comes home, is fine, or so it seems, then at 9:05pm, five minutes after bedtime, she tells me that the nurse came to her classroom to "check heads" yesterday. But that she only checked her crown (she pointed to the area) of her head because the nurse said, "That's where lice usually are." Oh, my, goodness. This, coming from a "NURSE" that is supposed to be taking care of people? Where did she get her degree, The Dollar Store?
So, I said, well, let me check you - go in the bathroom. *Note: I am a lice-o-phobic. Big time.
I checked the back first, right where the nurse did, to see what she saw. Then I moved on to above the ears. Yep. Found some. Did I mention it was after nine at night? And that we live at least 15 minutes away from any store that carries lice products? I was furious. I called her teacher, since we are friends, and let loose. She was furious, too. Said she had contacted the nurse on MONDAY to come and check her kids. She came on WEDNESDAY. WTF?
I can't take this trying to work and trying to take care of everything here. My life is going to hell in a handbasket.
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3 comments:
Oh, I'm so sorry. Lice is a nightmare. When I student taught, there was a lice scare and the nurse had to check my waist length hair. Scary. I hope you are writing a note to the nurse, the principal and maybe even the school board.
OH! I'll meet you there. I'll bring the wine. (Helps us not care that we're living in a really hot basket, flames licking our cheeks.)
Yay! I'll have bunk mates in hell!!!
I can't believe the nurse didn't send a note or anything - um, why bother checking if you aren't going to notify anyone?
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