[Bloggy Book Club will appear tomorrow...or maybe the day after that...I'm just not in the mood]
One of those days, folks....I don't even want to talk about it. But whoever stole my pleasant eldest daughter 2 years ago on her 13th birthday? I'd like her back now, please. The look of bored alienation that seems to be permanently affixed to her face is getting to be more than I can take.
Due to our realization that our budget for the year has been blown to heck (a root canal and dental crown, 2 pairs of eyeglasses, bad driving, more bad driving, and community college tuition will do that to you)(not to mention a wife who refuses to camp), Larry and I are trying to reassess our already rather frugal spending habits. This exercise in belt-tightening is not recommended for weak marriages. Divorces are expensive, too, you know.
Truth to tell, I don't know how willing I am to cut back. It has already been documented in these pages(?) that we are cheap with our kids (those nice camps the teens attended this summer? they paid for those themselves) and cheap with ourselves. At this point I'd rather just get a part-time job and the heck with it. Yeah, I could make our own soap and never, ever buy my kids so much as a single french fry; but I'm just not willing to go there anymore. This is hard for me to admit, as I have spent much of the last 17 years priding myself on being willing to make the economic sacrifices necessary to be a SAHM in this day and age.
And now? I just don't care anymore. What is it about if you live long enough, everything you are so sure about sort of falls to the wayside? I hate that. I mean, at one time I knew all about how to raise kids in a kind, loving manner - no harsh words or punishments needed here! But when this misguided approach to parenting produced a 6 and a 4 year-old who were spoiled brats, we had to throw the soft-sell discipline out the window.
Then I knew all about how to discipline my kids so they wouldn't become self-centered, alienated teens. Heh-heh. Yeah, Anna gave me my comeuppance on that one. And now, now, I'm going to give up my cherished SAHM status for economic reasons? This threatens to deal the death blow to my already shattered ego.
I mean, I don't mind being taken down a peg or two; but lately, I feel as if I am lying in a heap on the floor.
I told you - it's been one of those days...
[And please, for the love of God, do not besiege me with comments saying, essentially, what's wrong with being a working mother? There's nothing wrong with it. It's just that when one's identified oneself as something for almost 2 decades, it is hard to readjust. It's me, not you. So put down those hatchets, will ya?]