I recently received my annual letter from the school, informing me that my oldest daughter is absent or late too often. I sent a polite email to her guidance counselor, agreeing that my daughter is at home far too often, and reminding the counselor of the numerous little reasons that add up to many absences (an injury, and a minor chronic medical issue, and the amazing way that military medical is only available during school hours, and the fact that we have to drive into DC for specialty care.)
After I was done playing nice with the grownups, I vented my frustration on Facebook. Within minutes, one of my wonderful friends posted the following:
did you write back a note that says, "bite me. i'm juggling 4 kids, ajob, a house, animals. my husband is in the military serving in a scaryplace AND i have to find a place to live in another country and moveaway from my family and friends AGAIN. frankly arriving in a timelyfashion is low on my priority list and the entire country should praiseme for just making sure that they wash and get fed occasionally.
What a world of good that did my battered heart! It was such a pleasure to read that clip that I read it out loud. More than once. And you know what? I felt better afterwards.
I certainly don't want to turn into the type of person who spews out negative stuff all the time, but there was a certain therapy in reading (and saying) what I sometimes feel. It is hard work being Miss Happy-Go-Sunshine all the time. I like her a lot, and I'd hate for her to leave because the other side seems to be Miss Dark-Clouds-of-Misery, but it is still work.
Thank you, friend, for saying what I wanted to say.