I am quite definitely, absolutely, unequivocally in a funk. Quite a deep one. I have no idea how to dig my way out. I am not fond of it, but am lacking the energy to try very hard to change it.
You know how they say girls are easier when they’re little but harder when they’re older, and boys vice versa? Due to extraordinarily poor planning, I am now dealing with the worst on both ends.
Having a twelve-year-old girl and a three-year-old boy at the same time is not something I think I would choose to ever go through again. Or at least this particular set.
At this point, I’m pretty sure I’m better at break dancing, neurosurgery, gene splicing, glass blowing and hang gliding than I am at mothering. Or at least it feels like it.
And no, I’ve never attempted any of the above.
I’ll try to be helpful, interesting or somehow of use in the next post.