I’m tired. Not, “I need a little power nap” tired. I’m talking “beat like a rented mule, Lilly Von Schtupp” tired. I’m LIVING for my oldest to get over his fear of driving so that we can get him licensed and get him a car. Between the doctors appointments, softball practices and games, grocery shopping, volunteer work, and picking up “I missed my bus” people, I’m losing my mind and ability to control my legs. Okay, not really. But my legs have been throbbing for the last three days.
We just survived this weeks softball tournament following a district game. She played Tuesday night, Thursday night, Friday night and Saturday afternoon. And just when I thought I’d be able to sleep until dinner time, she announced that she wants to meet her friends at the mall to watch a movie and do some shopping. (Pffft! Her shopping will be a spectator sport. HA!) Fine. Her friends are good girls and I know most of their moms so it’s all good.
But dang! Can’t a sister get some sleep? The daughter with Autism is up early no matter what day it is and the minute someone coughs or sneezes, she is shouting and yelling about how her ears hurt and we’re all too loud. The boys will sleep all day if I let them….but that never happens because weekends are apparently when all hammering and sawing and weed-whacking must be done by my husband and they never let him work alone for long.
Wahhhhh! I could wash dishes by hand (no dishwasher,) run the washer and dryer and fold clothes between loads, cook dinner, and break up fights all day long and still have to turn the radio on in order to not be alone in the kitchen. *sigh* I suppose it could be worse. I could have 4 kids in extra-curricular activities and we could eat nothing but fast food. I am grateful for what I do have. But in the words of Lilly Von Schtupp, “Let’s face it. I’m pooped.”