Tired

Summer is here, and I'm tired.  There.  I said it.  I admit that I am not super-mom or super-woman or super-cook or anything else super.  I am behind in school, I am grouchy with the kids and I can't seem to get myself in any gear other than slow.  Maybe it's the fault of lingering on the brink of healthy and sick, or perhaps being back into the swing of lone-parenting that happens on summer weekends.  Perhaps it's attending three births in as many weeks.  It might even just be the normal wear and tear of being the adult in this place.

Richard is cramming as many work hours as possible into the short amount of time left before his surgery.  I'm used to dealing with the kids, but doing it alone at night is a bit more taxing.  I celebrated a successful weekend of single-momness by changing my Facebook status to reflect how we all made it through in one piece.  A real-life single mom took offense, telling me that that was her life day in and day out for the last five years.  In short, shove it, Sister, I don't know how good I have it to be part of a full family with a supportive partner.  Well, yes, I do.  It makes it all the more difficult when the work weekends happen.  I don't think it means I need to feel any less thankful for getting the kids and myself through it without a trip to the ER.  Shove it, Sister, indeed.

Anyway.  Nuff whining.  I am not fit to be around this evening.