Mothering a Walking Ball of Emotion and a Mess of Complications

Geesh.

The other day I walked into the house after work and said hello to the Walking Ball of Emotion. I sat down on the couch and yelled up to the Mess of Complications, who was in his room. The Walking Ball of Emotion looked at me somewhat coldly and said, "Why don't you go upstairs and say hello to him?"

This is my life in a nutshell.

I can do nothing right.

Nothing. Right.

Last night was utterly exhausting. I stayed calmer than I thought I would (note I did not say 'calm,' merely 'calmer than I thought I would'). I even managed to rise above it and cook dinner although I filled the house with smoke. Cast iron grill pans seem like such a good idea but sometimes the reality is a bit ummmm...hazy. The things one learns with age: ALWAYS make the God damned vent actually vent to the outside even when your contractor assures you that it will be fine the way he wants to do it.

In other news? Our house is a mess (house concert Saturday) but I think we're pulling ahead in the war against the fleas. Rascal seems invigorated by the lack of fleas and is attacking Bob with new vigor. Sigh. Poor Bob. However the other day I did see them sleeping on the same chair so perhaps Bob is resigning himself.

Oddly, Bob and I find ourselves in the same situation....wearily arming ourselves to deal with the teens in our life....