Frustrated.

It's finals week here, which means that my semester-long procrastination tendencies are forced to come to an end.  What that translates into for my family is that laundry may be done, but it will sit folded on the dining room table all week; meals may be prepared, but that meal might peanut butter and jelly sandwiches every day for lunch; I may take you outside to play, but I will be looking down at my laptop instead of watching you play; and though I want to just curl up and read you stories, instead I have to watch speeches and read papers.  It is maybe my least favorite week of the year.  The boys are "up for naps" right now, and although I am only half way through my final papers, I wanted to document a frequent conversation I've had with Charley lately.  Tensions are high in the house today -- I am stressed, Abe's allergies are super bad, so he feels like doing school even less than normal, and it's been raining all morning, so the littles are stuck inside.  This particular interaction hasn't happened so far today, but it is likely to occur later on.

Me: "Jack (or Abe), you are in time out.  You need to sit there and think about what you've done."

Charley: "Yous mad at him?"

Me: "No honey, I'm not mad at him.  I'm frustrated with how he's acting."

Charley: "You're fwustwated with him.  But you're happy with me.  Right?"

How could I not be?