Tonight was a doozer of a night. I was lamenting, again, that my little darlings' rooms are never clean and that no wonder the House Fairy never comes because you can't even pick up your dirty clothes or even attempt to put one thing away with out complaining and crying about it. I ranted, raved, whined (that's right whined) and found myself saying, under my breath, "I hate this. Why do I have to do everything? This is too hard for me. I can't do it."
No wonder my children have such a hard time doing anything. I am as bad as they are!
The thing I really dislike about realizing these awful things about myself is that I have no idea how to change my own attitude. I know very well that, just as a principal sets the tone of a school, or a priest his church, or a doctor her office, I set the tone of my home. It seems the tone I am setting is not a good one and instead of changing that tone, I feel like an untied balloon that's been let loose and is banging against the ceiling about to lose all its air and fall to the floor. Deflated.
The only thing I can do at the moment is finish this blog and go to bed. On to tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow...until I die.*
*Please don't take me too seriously. This too shall pass I know that to be true. Soon, I'll find the air to blow up my balloon again and life will carry on until I'm hitting my head against the ceiling...again. If you have any advice for me, I'd love to hear it.