where wildly different is perfectly normal
Quit telling me to manage my #@$^$@%& stress!
Quit telling me to manage my #@$^$@%& stress!

Quit telling me to manage my #@$^$@%& stress!

I swear, the next person, doctor, or concerned friend who suggests that I need to better manage my stress is going to get kicked in the freakin’ teeth. I. Am. Trying. I get plenty of rest. I drink lots of water. I exercise every.damn.day. I’m on an anti-depressant. I have a bite guard so I don’t clench my teeth so tight at night that I shove a tooth into my sinus cavity. What more can I do? I can’t help an automatic response. When A is in my room at 6:15 in the morning and my eyes have been open for thirty seconds and he’s on his third question, my response is “stop. stop now. give me coffee. give me coffee now. and please go away. please go away NOW.” When it’s 8:00 am and the boys are screaming at each other over God knows what and my low blood pressure rises to normal and I start fantasizing over running away….

Can you tell school is out? It’s going to be a long, hot summer.

I can’t keep up. If I had 30 minutes head start in the morning that might help, but A is up by 5:30 some days. I can’t get ahead of him. Or J. He follows around his big brother and it’s monkey see, monkey do.

I’m feeling pissy today, is that obvious?

It gets better, right? Eventually I’ll quit fantasizing about running away or selling my kids on eBay? ‘Cause if not…whew…

Whaddya think?

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