Some Days Mommy Needs A Drink
There are some days that the stress level drives me to want to leave the room, leave my children behind, work behind, and just go hide under the nearest desk. Seriously, some days mommy needs a drink. Today was one of those days. My oldest is supposed to be working on a significant project. Since I see that she’s having trouble with it, and trouble getting started, I helpfully created a checklist for her. And I shared it with the au-pair. The first item on it was to make a plan, drawing out what she plans to do, exactly. Where all of the pieces go. I told her she also needs to make a shopping list, so we can comparison shop.
I came home tonight to a pile of birdhouses in the garage that were half painted. They were, of course, painted before being sanded or primed. They were also painted in such a way that would paint them permanently shut. There were beads all of the kitchen table, and bits of wire. And a picture of what she’s trying to do. No plan, no shopping list. Just got the au-pair to take her to the store and buy stuff. From the appearance of it- a lot of stuff, and I’m not sure I want to even know how much it cost, except that she has to keep track of all of the costs for the project. It appears that half of the craft store decided to explode all over my house.
Since I’d rather not kill someone, I think I’d rather write about it here, and possibly drink something very stiff. I’m really not fond of the idea of spending the rest of my time in jail.
It is interesting how dealing with a child with a different world view gets things done in a completely random order. No plans necessary. Somehow I think she’s planning to go out and go digging and randomly planting things in places, and hope that they grow, not understanding that there needs to be some small semblance of a plan to start with. Or not. I guess budgets and planning are overrated in her mind.
It’s a learning experience. Some days mommy needs a drink. A Very Large, Very Frozen, Tall, Alcoholic Drink.