Every time I have a day like today, I want bedtime to come quickly, so I can collapse. Most people think they need more hours in their day. Not me. Not more.
It's barely 3 on a Sunday afternoon and I've already asked my son Bobby, "What were you thinking?" at least three times. The following things prompted my question:
1. I went out to clean up the barn for a party, and I found screws and nails everywhere. When I asked Bobby about it, his reply was honest: "I was throwing them at the pigeons, to get the pigeons out of here!"
2. I sent Bobby to the house with a wheelbarrow full of produce from the garden. When he didn't return, I discovered he was "washing the windows" -- with a hose.
3. I came into the house to find a large fishhook stuck into the couch cushion. I felt ridiculous even asking, "Why did you put a fishhook in the cushion?" I wasn't surprised that he didn't remember doing it.
I love my boy to the moon and back, and, at times, I think we've been to the moon and back. But I'm a mom of an ADHD boy, and, like all parents of ADHD kids, I'm exhausted! This is not a "phase," but my daily life.
Fewer hours in the day would help me out. That would mean fewer hours to repair, discipline, explain, and argue. My days are long enough.