We had this baptism party and mass extravaganza this weekend which wore my family and my emotional stability out. Yes, Yes, I am not right and I have been informed many times but the cost of things such as dry cleaning, flowers, food, and liquor make me crazy (even if the money is belongs to someone else). Despite pain, I bought and bought and bought. I drank, and drank, and drank. And, I realized that I was in a family with maybe a few too much estrogen. I got a nap and survived another day.
I survived but the family is holding on by a thread. I forced by girls out of bed this A.M. to an eager brother and a packaged granola bar. As the morning progressed, Elliott decided to scream. When I say scream, I mean at the top of her lungs with no abandon. She could not eat, could not be bothered with dressing; she had a mission to be heard from Mars. I tried to calm her to no avail. To sponsor dreams of normalcy, I went to check on the older two.
The dreams were smashed. Gram had on pants that were a size to small that hit him before his ankles met his socks. Petal Pushers I tell you. As a mother ready to purchase years of therapy , I told him "their all going to laugh at you". Carrie holds many of my life lessons. But anyway, He was not phased by the threat. I gave up after about three emotionally damaging statements and let him meet his doom.
In the face of her bothers fashion mishap, Lucy's backwards tights were not discussed other than me stating, "I think you should wear boots today". The boots would hide the evidence I thought. I then fled to a day at work full of peace and quiet until I talk to you next.