Alright, I confess, by 11 at night I have had it.
I am tired and exhausted and I just want to not be needed by anyone.
I don’t want to know where someones crap is, I don’t want to get up and point to it sitting right in front of their face.
I don’t want to cook another meal, I don’t want to make another pb&j and, under no circumstances, do I want to fetch another drink.
I don’t want to read another book and I don’t want to hear one more time the epic tales of adventure that happened earlier in the day and that has been recounted five million and one times since.
I don’t want to spell another word or hold a baby while I try and use the restroom.
I don’t want anyone withing five feet of me.
This varies night by night.
Some nights I can take it, but not tonight.
Tonight, I am huddled up in bed, blogging on my more then neglected blog, printing out math for the week and feeling squashed.
I want to knit, watch something on the BBC and sip hot cocoa.
I am too tired. Too unsettled, ruffled, discontented.
I wish had not been so grumpy putting the children to bed.
Try again tomorrow I will.