But last week was difficult, due to a combination of short days, school ending, and sitters being unexpectedly unavailable. By Sunday night, I was _angry_. And then my attempt to start my dinner was disrupted. I completely lost it.
I'm not proud of the screaming and the threats and the yelling (among the threats: I will throw away everything in the entire house, cancel all vacations and sitters and we will stay home and sit quietly until September -- obviously an idle threat, but the kids were less certain about this, and even R. wonders because in the moment, I really, really, really do mean it, and I've made some life changing decisions on a dime in the past and never regretted them. When you have a family member who has already walked away from her entire social support system -- husband, parents, two sisters, half or more of her extended family, entire church group she spent 25 years in -- it's probably always going to be in the back of your mind that she just might do it again).
No, I'm not proud of the temper tantrum. But I'm _damn happy_ about the bags of trash in the bin, and the cleared off island, and the space on the dining table ample enough to actually eat food without crouching.
The kids went to the horse and both did well. T. and I had lunch at Applebee's. T. wasn't feeling well, so he skipped going ice skating.
ETA: If you are thinking, you really should figure out a way to do this without the anger, I don't disagree. Altho I will point out the ludicrously high standard that women are held to, in expecting them to maintain a decent house in the face of relentless crap from the schools and elsewhere, and completely natural resistance to getting rid of stuff on the part of the owners of said stuff. Yes, the kids have rooms to put things in -- I did tell them to take everything they wanted to keep up to their rooms. And they have organizing things in their rooms (shelving, drawers, bins) to store their stuff. The rooms also need to be cleared out, but at least I don't have to cook in their rooms.