I wouldn’t say I was a “well balanced” individual originally, but I was pretty smart, perceptive, patient…. oh the amount of patience I once had! I was silly and didn’t take life too seriously. Cut to one pandemic, one husband, a gay teenager and a miniature more sarcastic, more sassy 11 year old version of myself with a *dash* of her dad’s Scorpio mean streak tossed in and well… let’s just say I’m a frazzled, testy, impatient adult who takes college classes for fun and it’s all made possible with anti-depressants.
The amount of ups and downs that reside in just the first hour of my day are mind-bending. From the immovable and comatose AM teenager, to the clothes-fights and hair screaming of the preteen, it’s like i’ve been at the underworld Disneyland all day and the entire day was one long ride. Lots of loops and a few jump scares.
And at the end of it, I get to make dinner for everyone.
I never realized what kind of special chaos an 11 year old girl of a notoriously sarcastic person could be. This kid began life an absolute angel. She was a nearly perfect baby. She slept. She loved naps. She was an adorable toddler with none of the demon energy her older brother had. She was a breeze and a pleasure of a kid. Once those hormones started trickling into her brain …. y’all. She is a wonderful kind-hearted sweet and imaginitive brilliant kid BUT. (We are all friends here, I can speak openly without judgment, right?)
LORD help me for the attitude that has begun oozing out of the pores of my daughter. Tears, screaming, laughing, “I love you!”, tornado of emotional (damage) energy. I was not prepared. And it’s ever-shifting throughout the day. I know it’s typical, and I know i’m not alone, but JEEZUS.
I feel like i’ve gone through the Fire Swamp, had a run in with Fezzik and lost to Vizzini before work. And don’t even get me started on the hormonal reality of working in a 6th grade classroom!
“HHHHEEELLO! My name is Impatient Momma. You killed my sanity! Prepare the DISHES!”
I guess what i’m saying is that I’m pretty proud of myself for not being drunk on a daily basis. You’re welcome.
-Brought to you by: anti-depressants, coffee, and a modicum of oversharing.
Sarcasmica 
Just a few more years and they’ll be out of the house (knock on wood). Give yourself a break now and then and let someone else cook. Hold onto the remaining sanity. If you can.
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