I don’t even know where to start.

I got up this morning, with all intentions of making pancakes. My brother and sister were making eggs. That’s fine. I emptied the dishwasher and put the dishes in it. Then I started cleaning out a cabinet to pass some more time while they finished. Somewhere in between the two things, my mom made eggs. By the time I finished re-arranging the damn cabinets, I said fuck it and put my pancake mix away and didn’t eat. I also found an entire trash bag of lids. No containers, just lids. And about fifty other things no one ever uses. I also found a pressure cooker mom has probably been carting around for 26 years, with yellowing papers inside of it. Never been used.

I came upstairs, where DH was cleaning the bedroom. Again. Because no one knows how to put their shit away.

I sat in the bathroom and cried for a bit. You know, until my 4 y/o had to poop and had to come in. So I went to clean some stuff. Then I went back in the bathroom and cried some more.

I’m not really sure why, except that I also tried to eat my strawberries I bought yesterday and they were so packed into the box they were bruised and mushy. I put them in a bag in the fridge. Maybe I’ll make strawberry preserves or something, but who the fuck wants to eat bruised, mushy strawberries? Almost everything else I bought yesterday was for other people. I had an apple. That my 2 y/o took half of.

I’m not even sure what it is that has me so upset, other than attributing it to some weird hormone shift.. but I hate doing that.

I had clean clothes on the floor yesterday, waiting for their respective owners to pick them up and put them away. The cat pissed on a pair of pants. No one believed me that I smell cat pee *everywhere*.. well, there’s the proof she forgot how to hit the damn cat box. Not even in the same room. I hate the cat.

The twins slept on the couch again last night. Apparently they forgot it wasn’t a bed.

I just want a damn house that doesn’t look like a hurricane swept through it all the time. Even when I do clean it looks like that again within a couple of days, if it takes that long.

I know, it’s always the same shit. But damnit, I am not a maid, I am not a cook, I am not a baby sitter, I am not a lot of things I seem to have wound up being.

Maybe mom is affecting me more than I give it credit for. Maybe everyone else who is being affected by her is affecting me. I just can’t do it any more.

Fish knows it, but he’s also not home a lot. I have no clue what I am going to do with three kids when I apparently cannot control the two I have, and the two I seem to have inherited (or at least feel like it) have absolutely zero respect for me (or anyone for that matter).

I think I found my breaking point this morning, and I’m not even sure what it was.