i had a bunch of things to do today. then the children were shits all morning (like, horrific, worse than they have been in a long time, terrible shits) and today went from “this is going to be a good day where i get a lot of things done” to “please just let me survive until bedtime”
jim went to work and i hated him for it. how is it that you have the luxury of leaving? i am in this prison at home.
i cut up apples and sliced cheese and presented the girls with a snack then went to bed to hide and cry. they calmed down. i calmed down. i made myself get up and make pancakes. thats about all i can handle – make pancakes. i don’t give one fuck if thats just white bread with syrup on top and its not properly healthy. i jsut need ot put some food in all of us before i list them on craigslist.
i want to ask the virgin mary: tell me, did jesus ever scream all night? did he ever barf on you? how come your clothes are always so immaculate, i don’t see poo on you anywhere. please tell me that he had an everlasting tantrum and you wanted to strangle him at some point. he may have been the saviour, but he was also a baby and a toddler and a child first. you must have had bad days. and yet, in all your paintings, he is always happy and clean and you never have bags under your eyes or look like you are about to loose it. I’m pretty certain that Josephs income as a carpenter wasn’t high enough for you two to be able to hire an imported nanny.
maybe I’ll paint my own mary and jesus photo. if she looked less like a magazine ad or a mommy blog i could find the whole thing more believable.