Alcohol of sorts

I want a beer.

I don't drink, never have, never will. But I get why people do. I also get why people become addicts. Because just when you think you can't take it anymore you can take something--alcohol--pills and just for the moment things get better.

Then once you see that it is that easy, you just turn to that instead of dealing with what's in front of you. Like two kids crying a super whiny cry--for no good reason. And them both trying to sit on your lap while knocking the other one off. Then them fighting over who gets to put their hand in the cereal box. And each stealing the other's toy just to tease, which ensues more crying. That super whiny, fake, tattling cry. And also, when the only thing that makes them stop for a short while is listening to Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat for the trillionth time. But then one shuts it off just to make the other cry. And then they both WONT STOP TOUCHING YOU.

And when you volunteer in your kid's classroom and grade worksheets and realize that your kid is not really measuring up. Not the worst kid, but not close to the best. And you realize that some of that is your fault. A lot of it is, because you don't like to drill your kids on things like math facts, and to ask comprehension questions at the end of books. And you realize that that is not the only kid you've failed. You're 0 for 2 in the supportive academic mom department. And you realize that you have to change things--which will make them whine, which makes you want that beer again.

And then your husband tells you that his supervisor wants to "talk to him." Which you know means either "you are fantastic we want to keep you on as a nurse and pay you a nice wage", or it means "we really aren't hiring now because of this here recession thing--good luck with that". The suspension is KILLING ME. Which heightens my senses and makes the above whining even more unbearable than usual.

And then there's so much crap in your closet that it makes you want to go naked instead of heading in there to get dressed. UGH, shoes all of the floor, a box of c.d.'s that was put in there months ago--that I don't even miss, and yet I feel the need to go through, a pile of fabric I will never sew with because I hate to sew, and a sewing machine that is broken--so I couldn't sew if I wanted to. And the old computer that is broken that you don't know where to put it because it might have some secret info on it that needs to be cleaned off. And don't forget the giant box of playdough purchased a year ago at Christmas--it belongs in there . . . right?

Did I mention the load of laundry looking at me? Dumb laundry. Like the giant quilt I have to wash because Beck was gagging himself for fun last night. The parenting technique I oft turn to (ignoring) backfired on me--and he barfed. Just on a small corner of it. But it has that retched stomach bile smell. So the whole GIANT thing has to be washed. And it wasn't on my list of laundry today that i have to do between 9 and 5 because I'm on the SRP savings plan--which only saves me about $20 each year--what am I doing that for again? .. . and what was I talking about? . . oh yeah---beer.

So I get it.

So I blog, instead of beer, instead of pills, instead of locking the kids in and running away.

Ah--I'm feeling the buzz.