I'm exhausted. Ground down to a nub. I don't know how many more ways to say it, but I've had it.
If I have to listen to my children fight one more time my head is going to explode.
I know. You're laughing. You're saying to yourself, "Self, you know so much better than Tari, because you know brothers are destined to hate one another at least 75% of the time. Poor Tari - she'll get over it."
But IT'S. NOT. TRUE. They have never been so nasty, so cruel, so hideous to one another as what I've endured this past month. They can hardly speak to one another without twisting their mouths, as if to gag on their brother's name. Or without screaming. And crying. And whining.
I. am. sick. of. this. It makes me want to quit, to let them be animals to one another (and the rest of the world) if they want to. It makes me want to give up killing myself to get them to activities, to take back the money we spend on tuition and take a two week trip with it - just Husband and I - to Hawaii.
Something, or somebody, has to change. I'm just praying I figure out how to help that happen.