morning after the day before

First of all, we have just endured a week with mh's three daughters (plus one husband, but that's another story for another day). They all arrived ready to hurl and glory in their processes. Like we are supposed to just open up and be good obedient parental repositories. NOT!!!! And then, the blissful 12 hours alone as the last one departed... before their brother flew in. I don't get it. Grown kids who assume they can fly in whenever it suits them, once a year when having a parent who lives in South Florida suddenly becomes an asset rather than an embarrassment. Everybody Loves Dad come March. And now, I'm in that crazy 48-hr countdown before leaving for a week. Class, work, orders, cooking, unstable teenager.......... and frozen here on the couch, neck clenched tighter than ever. I know I'm in deep internal distress when I wish I had a normal life: 2.3 kids with husband who had a real job and brought home a paycheck to support me.

what now?

little quiet deaths from the dry, hard-scrabbled bottom of the well. What am I missing? What do we do from here?