High Level of Snark

6-4-15

I know siblings fight, but dang sometimes it gets really freaking old.

They had been home from school for maybe 10 minutes when all hell broke loose. They fought about folding chairs. They fought about chips. They fought about singing. It was out of control. Needless to say, I was spent and computers were taken from them for the afternoon. Thank goodness they know when I mean business. They were both pretty tame while we went out and got them new shoes.

I feel a little crazed today. I know that there are busy days ahead of me, including the evening, so I am sure I have forgotten something. I know I have to get Dax prepped for tomorrow. He needs to have an extra sandwich and some water packed in his backpack for the meet. I can’t go on the field tomorrow, nor can he come to me, so I need to make sure he is covered. Since I am not home in the morning, I have to get this all done tonight so that I am sure it is good to go. Oh, and there is a board meeting tonight. Gah! I am not staying the whole time since the boys need to sleep, especially Mr. Dax.

Thankfully even though registration is Saturday, it is an organized chaos I am well versed in. The day goes by quickly, even when we are short volunteers. Sure, it is exhausting, but I know what I am in for.

Tomorrow night’s track meet also worries me for multiple reasons. What happens if Dax cries? What happens if we don’t get good seats? How do I keep Bobby occupied? I know when the race and jump events are, and really with it being a jump and a 50 meter sprint, they are not long events. But I would like to get some pictures. I don’t know how great they will be.

I would like to point out that the Duggar parents need to be smacked around with a tire iron. And not just one smack. They need to be hit twice for every kid they have. Then another one for every time they have indicated that all that they do is God’s will. Oh, and then throw in another half dozen just for good measure.  And just because I think it would be funny, shave the mom’s hair off.

My frazzle is turning into snark. My stress is becoming belligerent. I am frustrated I don’t know how to explain my state without sounding condescending.