Migraine is in.
It’s threatening to happen at this very moment that I’m writing this.
It has been a long day, a particularly long day.
I wrote articles for work after reading tons of materials about origami. I taught my twin children new words for spelling and vocabulary, engaged them in a writing exercise, and reviewed the place value of decimals.
I started Module 1 on creative play by the Ramon Aboitiz Foundation Inc.’s Kiddie Hub for my four-year-old cutie pie. In between, I cooked and cleaned, managed my painful dysmenorrhea, and supervised the reconstruction of our gate.
I figured in passionate discussions with my daughter, Antoinette, who loves to see the gate completed. I am tired repeating my instructions to the boys… To clean up and return their toys in its proper place.
I am exhausted.
There’s so much to do and there’s very little time to accomplish them. I disliked my two rambunctious sons today. I wished I didn’t feel that way. But I did and I made sure my husband is aware of it.
He talked to Nicholas, the older boy and Antoinette’s twin brother, and he wrote me the apology letter below 👇
Dear Mum,
I like when we play jackstone but Jeffrey don’t (doesn’t) know where is (are) the green ball and the orange ball with the gril (girl) inside the ball. But we’re sorry that we make (gave) you headaches.
I hope you like your massage.
Love,
Nick
I am exhausted to even speak. The only thing I want to do right now is to write this and get it done.
Most of the times I am perky Mommy who makes sure that everyone is happy. But tonight, I just can’t be perky and bubbly and happy.
So I told my husband I’m done with kids tonight and the ball is in his court. I’m not giving anyone a bath tonight. I’m not cooking dinner. I’m not getting any kid ready for bed. I’m done for today.
I’m getting a massage.
I said it.
That’s it.
