Today was one of those days where I wonder why I got out of bed. It started out so well, too! I got up at four to take care of KidThree and stayed up, doing the dishes, some housework, etc. That is my favorite time of day, between four and eight: no children are up, everything is quiet, the peace is all for me. I can have coffee and candy, check the internet, read the paper, do the odd jobs to get the kitchen ready for the day. Then off to babysit, from eight til two, with my favorite child of all; watching her is a joy. Every minute of it, and today was the best day I spent with her ever. A lovely, lovely, lovely morning and early part of the afternoon.
Got some of the phone calls done. KidFour now has an appt with a therapist, KidThree has a follow-up appt scheduled with her new provider, KidFour has a new six-month supply of contact lenses, I have an appt for an eye exam, and a lovely woman at the clinic is tracking down the needed medical supplies for KidThree.
Then home to KidThree and KidFour. Watched some tv with them, had some coffee, then went to the post office to look for money, went to the credit union to deposit the money that actually did show up, then off to Subway to get the kids some sandwiches for dinner (over 100 degrees outside, way too hot to cook, no matter how much KidThree wanted homemade pizza).
Came home from that. Told KidFour I wanted her to do a chore, KidThree got miffed at having KidFour touch some of her things (to put them away), I tried to ignore the snit and not get engaged, but KidThree kept after it and decided she didn't want to do this, she didn't want to do that, she didn't want to go to an event we had planned to go to. Much better to sit home and sulk.
What really got me was the accusation again that I am never home. I work less then twenty hours a week babysitting in clients' homes because this home here is not acceptable to clients (and I don't blame them one little bit). I don't have the money to buy the things needed to make it acceptable, no one helps me with the housework to try to make the existing situation as good as it can be, if I don't babysit we don't have grocery money, but I get bitched at for never being here.
Yes, I love these kids. I love taking care of them. I know they are immature; I know they don't see past their own noses; I know they each have some pretty serious emotional issues. Most of the time I can manage to deal with it, but today it was harder to brush off the "you're never here" accusation.
Oh my I hope, I hope that Tomorrow Is A Better Day.
A
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