Smrt Lernins

Today is officially a day I want someone to come in and do it for me. I wasn’t able to get Babypie to sleep until almost 1, due to her flailing, thrashing, and itching (she has a viral rash on her top half and a nasty thrush rash on her bottom half, exacerbated by the viral rash). The Tank was awake over an hour before my already-too-early alarm goes off to take him to preschool. Upon hearing his voice, Babypie, my usual late sleeper, perked up…and immediately began clawing at herself in misery, because despite the prescription cream we got, her itchy diaper rash is worse than the day before. Officer Daddyman got in at who knows what hour, so I’m flying solo this morning and hating the world. The boys are playing a game called “poke each other with the green K’nex stick” that is doomed to end very badly. Oh, and I think Captain Science tooted, because The Tank is gagging and retching because something smells bad (“It smells SO bad, mama. *gag* Come smell it. *retch*” He has a super weak gag reflex) and the Captain bolted to the bathroom shortly before that.

I do not want to get The Tank ready for preschool.
I do not want to drive The Tank to preschool.
I do not want to drive Captain Science to the Mitnens for science.
I do not want to direct math and logic lessons.
I do not want to try to sit on hold forever with the pediatrician to get another prescription to fight Babypie’s rash.
I do not want to keep the children quiet so that Officer Daddyman can sleep.
I do not want to deal with sick, irritable, rashy, itchy, cranky, or squabbling children.
I do not want to hear one more tattle tale tattling.
I do not want to try to teach anybody anything.
I do not want to.

I wish I could pack all three of them onto a public school bus and send them away. Goodbye, children! See you at 3! Instead it’s whine, scratch, cry, scream, argue, itch, whine. These are the days that people don’t adequately warn new homeschoolers will come.