I had a lovely long ventilating post written this morning and somewhere in cyberspace it disappeared. Maybe it's for the best. It was full of complaints about how the mixture of teen and preteen and menopausal and pregnant hormones in my house is just not working lately. It was a rough weekend, the roughest moment being when my brother the Disaster charged into my sick mother's bedroom with a snake...... for kicks. There are moments when I am so completely filled with rage that I think I could cause the Disaster some significant bodily injury, but so far I have managed to control myself. The Disaster is so so far from being capable of rational thinking that it's usually best to treat him and his antics "like water off a duck's back" - and ignore them. But it is REALLY HARD sometimes.
My long and lost post also went on about the craziness this weekend held as my family prepared for their weeklong vacation. My mom isn't going (yahoo! smart!) which means there is nobody to plan and pack and prepare meals for the rest of the gang, so there was some franticness last night trying to make that work. I'm not really worried about anyone except my little sister, who has been looking forward to this trip for months and hasn't been able to sleep for at least two nights for excitement. If the ornery teenage boys or the crazy Disaster ruin this trip for her I will be VERY MAD.
Other than that Mr. Renn and my mother and I are looking forward to a very quiet week. Uber-quiet. Sounds divine. I'm going to try to finish the ambitious sewing project I started this weekend (I'll post a photo if I finish without ruining it). And there will be absolutely nothing to make me stay up past my bedtime. I should be a very happy pregnant lady by the end of the week.
My frustration with the Disaster and the Girlfriend continues to grow and fester - to the point where it's interfering with my own happiness. They are so disfunctional it would be funny - if the wellbeing of an infant weren't involved. I must find a healthy way to deal. I think it will be easier, and more possible, once we are moved out on our own again. But I still get so mad, so so mad! Then I forget to be happy. And I have ever so much to be happy about!
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