On the 10th day of December my true loves gave to me, 10 referrals to various mental health providers.
We woke up at 5:30 this morning, having spent the night at Chris' parent's house, so we could get back up here for one stinking choir rehearsal at the boy's school where they forced me to play the violin in their upcoming Christmas or "Holiday" concert. I am having a hard time feeling or thinking very kind things about the choir director at this moment as my kids and myself are all tired and cranky from the lack of sleep. I don't know if its the lack of sleep or if it's really my kids, but I feel like the moment they walked in the door that the dark forces of snotty-ness, icky-ness, Darth Vader, the castle Grayskull, and the Blob came trotting in with them. I didn't know all those things could fit on the bus. They were probably magically sent home with them courtesy of the Wicked Choir Director of the West. Grrrrrr!!! (Sorry Mrs. K, I do like you, I know I do and I'm sure this memory will be long gone after the shock therapy, hypnosis, and a few hundred miles alone with Dr. Minivan).