Am I tired because I’m sick or because I’m depressed? I just piled into the doctor’s office with all three kids. I sat down and tried to explain why I was there to ‘the lady’. Immediately two of my little fuckers (sorry – I mean angels) starting talking to me about completely trivial crap. While I was talking to the lady remember. I asked her if taking children away from me was part of a treatment plan. Stupid wagon, a doctor, and two nurses laughed. Pricks. I was fucking serious!

Somehow we ended up with three tablets. #3 had left daddy’s in the car, and #1 had left hers a couple of days ago. I always have mine with me nowadays, you know to write and whatnot. I’m typing this on my phone of course, because one of the mini-mes has my tablet. Anyway. They all decided they were happy “for now” not to use the tablets, until the tech came to take me back. Then all hell broke loose because they wanted me to unlock three tablets in 12 seconds. Not happening. “Tough shit Paddy,” may or may not have been uttered from my lips. Okay. It was. Look. There are way shitter parents out there. Bite me. (Not too hard now).

I brought #3 back with me because she’s only five. It’s really not about me being overprotective. It’s really about her being nuts, and absolutely willing to wander off with anyone vaguely interesting. So the reason I decided it was a great idea to go with three spawn to the doctor was because I have a sore throat, and #1 was diagnosed with strep on Friday. Now strep should not go untreated in anyone, but let’s just say in patients with heart disease, it can be fatal a lot easier, and a lot quicker.

While we waited for the strep result and the P.A. to come in, I endured no less than eight rounds of I-spy. We played the color version where you say what color the object is. Much fairer for kids who can’t spell yet. What’s not so fair is that #3 became selectively colorblind on and off at will throughout the game.

And now we are in McDonald’s. Equal parts bane and godsend for parents the world over. I hate that my kids are eating shite. I love that I don’t have to cook, or even think of having to suggest what they might eat. I hate the gross disgusting play place. I love that I can ignore them, and wallow in my sore throat misery.

I am worn out. Whether by throat, depression, motherhood, or all three. Tomorrow is bike to school day. I’m not sure if I hope I feel too fucked to bring them or not, shite mother that I am. We’ll see what tomorrow brings. I’m off home to have snuggles with my buggles. And then get the heck to bed!

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