A little rant

I suck at blogging recently. I've entered the stage of being too tired to blog. Too tired from working non-stop all day to be able to get out of the door by 4 o'clock so I can go get Ethan and rush him over to a swim lesson (where he says in the car he's going to have a great lesson, then gets on the pool deck and hugs my legs for 15 minutes refusing to get in the water while I count off 50 cents per minute that he's wasting playing his stupid little game), then go back and get Blythe and Brynn from school. Or get out the door by 4:15 so I can go get all the kids and take them to gymnastics (and put Brynn in the baby backpack while I "participate" in Ethan's class....and get there early enough to get Blythe dressed for gymnastics so she can do her class as soon as Ethan's ends...and remember to bring snacks and paper and markers or Blythe will have a complete meltdown...yes, she is 5, but she's a drama queen). After said activities, we get home and Brynn is tired, so I can't put her down, but the other 2 immediately want more snacks (because dinner isn't ready, because I haven't even thought about dinner, because I have to hold Brynn and then get her some dinner). Then dinner still isn't ready, so they want even more snacks, then I yell at them to stop bothering me so I can feed Brynn. Then I turn on the TV (aka the babysitter) and hope that suffices at least for a little while. Once Brynn is fed, I take her up to get a bath and Braden is home, so he tries to feed Blythe and Ethan dinner and gets mad at them for not eating their dinner because they've had too many snacks. I get Brynn bathed, fed, and then in bed and then can finally go downstairs to eat (of course, not as a family these days because of utter chaos). I can't have a conversation with Braden because Blythe and Ethan like to interrupt and talk really loud only while Braden and I are trying to talk. Finally at about 7:30, we have some time to spend with Blythe and Ethan and we play a game, or color, or work on letters. Then it's time for more baths (Blythe can bathe herself, but still needs help and needs her hair dried). Then bedtime, which is a fight with Ethan every single night. Every single night he goes to bed screaming "MOMMY!" in his room. I can't go in there after I've put him down and left the room, because the vicious cycle will never end and then it will just suck away even more time.

At this point, I could blog. Or I could pour a glass of wine and watch a TV show or 2. As you can see, option 2 has been more appealing.