What. A. Shitty. Day.
Up at 5 am with princess # smallest, who screams bloody murder for the first two minutes when she realizes "Mom-mie!!" is not getting up with us.
Then it's off to my first day of teaching a new photography course: I'm calm, cool, and ready to drop some documentary foto science on--Whoa! 3 students?! Dude, where's my class?
Teach for two hours anyway, then huddle with the school academic director to find out what's, uh, the deal with the other seven students who I thought had signed up for the class.
Then home by 2 pm to resume quality time provider duties with the previously mentioned smallest package, who resumes screaming seven shades of hell when she realizes Mama has slipped off to work. The shrieking lasts for half an hour.
Until the academic director calls to tell me they've decided to cancel my photo class. Oops--bye bye 3000 Euro!
The day plummets from there, and at 8, after more screams from #2, and some (sugar-fuelled) attitude and unkind words from princess #1, I flee my family. It's not the first time, and it won't be the last.
End up bleary in a bar at 10 pm, head in my hands and rubbing my eyes like some extreme eye-pain-having fellow.
* * *
Tomorrow I will sort through the wreckage. Tonight I will leave this bar and crawl home to the spare bedroom and hope to sleep dreamless, screamless and peaceful. Here's hoping....