A Tortured Mind

Well folks, it's January.  It is so very, very cold  here in the great state of Utah.  There is a beyond nasty inversion causing super dirty air that makes a lot of people sick, not to mention depressed.  I want to stay positive-- I really do.  But I'm about to cave.  The negative is crowding into my mind and I never remember craving warmth and sunshine like I do right now.  Can one diagnose oneself with SAD (seasonal affect disorder)?  I think I shall.  I have SAD.

Now before I share with you all my deepest worries and fears, you should know something.  I'm fairly sure that certain female cyclical factors are at play at the moment.  You hear what I'm saying, right.  Sorry, I can't go into more detail than that.  I do have some male readers (at least my dad reads) and we wouldn't want to upset their sensitive natures.  Suffice it to say, anything I share right now may or may not be the reality of my life.  Judge me not, just be a good friend, who sits and secretly listens to me whine while cloaked in the anonymity of the internet. 

When I get feeling down I always get discouraged.  About lots of stuff.  See for yourself.

1.  My house is a mess-- even though I feel like I am cleaning all the time.  That's not entirely true.  I'm too smart to clean all the time.  I spend a lot of time chasing after kids to do their jobs and clean up their messes.  I tell myself I am training them and eventually they'll get it and just clean up after themselves.  But truthfully I don't think I'm succeeding.  I try to pare down our belongings so we don't have so much stuff to take care of, but I feel overrun with junk anyway. 

2.  We don't eat healthy enough.  I have the worst genes on the planet and I have to help my children understand the importance of eating healthy and exercising.  I am trying really hard, but nobody seems to be responding.  Do you think they've found my secret chocolate stashes and suspect I am not all I profess to be?  Do they smell hypocrisy?   

3.  Today is Martin Luther King Jr. day and I kid you not, when I asked my girls who MLK was they were completely stumped.  Oh, good heavens!!!  Is this where homeschooling has taken us?  How have I missed that?  I also realized that several of my children probably couldn't recite their street address if needed.  Can you spell F-A-I-L. 
For the record-- each of their school assignments today was to write a report about MLK.  Which I'm sure they just plagiarized from the internet.  Pointing out yet another failing of my home school.

4. Bethany was learning her lyrical dance at an extra long dance rehearsal this afternoon.  When she got into the car she was discouraged because throughout the dance different groups of girls dance different parts.  She wasn't in as much of the dance as she would have liked.  I'm okay with kids learning to deal with disappointment, but I felt that Bethany is at a disadvantage because she only does ballet and lyrical, rather than ballet, lyrical, jazz, and hip hop like almost all the other girls.  Oh, sure, I'd love for her to be able to do it all at dance but I'd also like to be able to have a car to drive, food to eat, and heat.  Choices, choices.

5.  Cannon is so neglected.  I don't know what he does all day.  I know its not cute little learning activities and story time and snuggles with mom.  He begs for cheese sticks and granola bars a lot.  Oh, and he scales the bunk beds with contraptions of tae kwon do belts.  As it turns out he does know a lot of the letters of the alphabet-- no thanks to me. I've got to give props to PBS kids and Leapfrog Letter Factory for that. 

6.  Is that just how it has to go?  In large families are the younger children destined to be raised by the village of siblings?  Do the mama and papa mean nothing?  I am taking the little boys to story time at the library tomorrow, but is it in vain?  Could someone please recommend a book to me about the joys of large families and very successful people (or at least very good, happy people) who were the youngest children in large families?

7.  Elinor WILL not stay on task.  For anything.  I am the world's most annoying broken record mother.  I can't stand to hear myself repeat the requests I make all day everyday.  And I know it's my own fault because if I had the guts and wherewithal to put some serious consequences into play, I'm pretty sure we could take care of this problem of incessant  lollygagging and distraction.  Alas, I am weak.

8.   One of my children, who shall remain nameless, was caught in a very unfortunate and blatant lie this weekend.  I was so sad.  I know it is not so unusual for a child to lie.  But it made me sad.  Am I not doing enough to teach values to my children?  Am I so involved in whatever else it is I am trying to teach--obviously not civil rights, but music or literature, perhaps, that I'm missing some big tickets items like "TELLING THE TRUTH!" 

9.   Every August I have a dream that I'm putting all the kids in public school and I'm so happy about it.  Then I wake up and am in such a bad mood all day.  Although I'm not sure at the moment, I'm quite certain that I usually enjoy homeschooling.  However, I would not be surprised to have a public school dream tonight.

10.   Joy of joys, I will be attending the upcoming Regency Romance Ball in February.  AND I HAVE NOTHING TO WEAR!  And I don't know how to sew and I am ashamed.  Which means I will probably have to wear the same white nightgown (it is literally a nightgown) with a different color ribbon.  And I don't have lovely long locks to do a fancy hairstyle this year.  Which means that rather than looking like a charming, fresh, young lady of repute, I will have to don some hideous feathered hairpiece and be the mature advisor to some other charming, fresh, young lady of repute for the evening.  I'm so depressed. 

So there you have it.  A glimpse into my tortured PMS racked mind.  The only good thing about the evening is that we were too tired to finish Downton Abbey last night so at least I still have that.  But truth be told, as much as I love Downton-- it might not be the healthiest thing for me.  Apparently I have some obsessive tendencies and I don't recognize when enough is enough.