It's only Tuesday and I'm exhausted. My eyes feel gritty and limbs feel heavy. Plus it's raining and gloomy out which only serves to make me even more tired. So this will be a lovely drive home this evening after the parent-teacher conference at Noelle's school. Did you know that you have parent-teacher conferences in preschool? It's true! We even had one when she was only 6 MONTHS OLD. That was fun: well, your child drools and flaps around like a deranged baby duck but she sits so nicely and is very cuddly. I'm...still not quite sure what the point was. How, as a parent, do you ask any questions around child development when her biggest accomplishment to date has been not spitting baby food back at you?
*Comes back from tangent*
Right, I'm tired. And here's why: I haven't had a weekend off since Easter. I have worked every Saturday since mid-February (and a couple of Sundays as well) with the exception of two of them. After working a full week. And caring for a preschooler and infant. Don't get me wrong, Dyl has been amazing through all of this but getting up at 4 am to be at work by 6 gets real old real fast. I end up missing seeing the kids wake up on the weekends, no chance at big cuddles in our bed. No relaxing in the family room drinking coffee and sharing the paper while they watch cartoons. I miss it. I'm missing it. Soon we'll have Scouts and practices and stuff eating up our lazing time and I'm actually angry about being away from my family. No job is worth it. Except when it is. When it has to be. I so want to be like Cartman: Screw you guys, I'm going home.
I'm also getting maudlin and at bit weepy which so doesn't fit with my Alpha-Bitch rep here at work so: Screw you guys, I'm going home.