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Struggling

Man, I just don’t get this whole parenthood thing. There are so many things I feel like I need to do (want to do, have to do) to support my kids (show them I care, make sure they sleep, eat, poop, don’t die, have fun, get smart) but I have no idea what I’m doing or which things I’m doing are working, and so I generally feel as if I’m a chicken with my head cut off, doing lots of things but accomplishing nothing other than driving me and my kids absolutely insane.

Speaking of which, this morning I attended an orientation for Art In Action, which is basically parent-run art classes for public schools (and which I joined because I told myself I wanted to volunteer in Penny’s class this year, even though I think I’m actually lying to myself in some sort of self-destructive race for parental superiority over my own nature). They ran down the lessons for the school year, the first of which was a kind of self-portrait where the kids are supposed to draw themselves in the middle, then their Favorite Food in one quadrant, Favorite Animal in another, home and favorite activity in the last two. Here is my school-friendly version:

AiaI’ve got blueberries and french fries as my favorite foods; Tilly as my favorite animal; a nice exterior shot of my house; and me on a skateboard. I’m even smiling in the center, with normal colored hair.

But I had 2.5 more hours to kill while the instructor taught us how to fold paper, so I took that time to complete a more accurate self-portrait:

Real LifeFavorite food: booze. Favorite animal: the goddamn snail that lives with our beta because it doesn’t jump on me and it eats dirt so I don’t have to worry about feeding it, and when it dies no one really cares. My home: different piles of garbage; dirty laundry, dishes and mounds of crap. And my favorite activity: the 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep I get before I have to get up to pee or Paul wakes me up because he has to pee and then I figure I might as well go pee and then I’m up for the rest of the night. I particularly appreciate the circular nature of the piece, which really demonstrates the crushing wheel of shit that drives me from day to day.

I know that things could be much worse, but I also know that things are not going particularly well. And that if I keep this up it’s likely my hair will start falling out in clumps. Though it might be a good out for the in-school volunteering if I look too sad and terrifying to be allowed near children.

 

 



This post first appeared on Damsel In Digress | Winning The Interwebz Erryday., please read the originial post: here

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Struggling

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