So last night the kids and I were talking about fussing and getting along. Youngest Child said, “I get so scared when you are angry and yelling at us. I’m afraid… you might ground me.”

This was said with full quivering of lips and big sad puppy dog eyes.

I literally laughed out loud. Kid was kind of annoyed with me. “What! Being grounded is the second scariest thing ever! Missiles are scarier, of course, but grounding is awful.”

You know what? Maybe I’m not as mean as I want  to believe. I think I do a better job of keeping my cranky away from the kids than I think.

And then this morning we aren’t going anywhere because if you’ve dumped all your clean underwear in the laundry basket because that is your version of “cleaning up” then we don’t need to go anywhere.

I am sick to death of these kids acting like “cleaning up” means “dump it where mom has to deal with it and I don’t.”

Frustrated. Angry. SO SICK OF BEING THE FUCKING GROWN UP.

I am not going to go do laundry today just because you feel like dumping all your clean stuff in a pile and telling me to wash it. By my reckoning we have 3-4 days before I should do laundry.

Which means I am medicating.