if it were only that easy

It is raining today. I am working on prepping for my six classes. Brown Mackie emailed me just moments ago about needing an adjunct English instructor as well. Looks like I will be adding more classes to my schedule. I can't pass this one up for sure because it is a new campus, and they want to bring people in full-time professors by the second year. I am going to be exceedingly busy. Seven-plus classes, my book, and my PhD classes. Plus, there is baseball, room parent responsibilities, bake sales, house repairs, lawn maintenance and much, much more. Being a grown up is hard. Being a parent is harder.

I wonder how some people find the time and energy to do it all, and do it well. I have not met any here that do it all alone, but I know they are out there. A friend of mine suggested a support group for single parents. I kinda chuckled because I thought, if there is one group that needs support, it is single parents. I think on a scale of 1-10, I am scoring a six or seven on most days. Zach has started muttering under his breath all sorts of tortures for me, so I must be doing something right.

Right now, he is outside feigning an attempt at weeding the flower bed in the backyard. You would think I asked him to uproot all the bushes. It is really pretty funny. He has his face smashed against the window as if that will make me feel bad for him. I just keep passing him by, no comment from me. I just do not remember doing anything like that when I was a kid. Granted, I lived mostly in fear of a beating or worse, there is something to be said about a healthy dose of fear.

Zach has been taught that if he drives people crazy enough that sooner or later, he will not have to do the chore and will be allowed to sit around and play all day. I just do not roll that way. I am a bit of a socialist in that I think he should be a contributing member of the household. He is too young to work outside the home, as if he could at this point maturity wise anyway, so he will do chores to assist me in the upkeep of the house as a whole. I think it is very fair. He thinks I am a fascist.

Lately, I have been laughing at him a great deal. I can't help myself. His fits are so ridiculous. I wish I had been here for him more when he was younger. I think a good bit of this behavior could have been averted. I know 10-year-old boys throw fits. Still, they are usually triggered by some emotional response it seems. Zach just starts wailing whenever things do not go his way, which is often. He says he can't wait until he grows up so that he can get everything he wants. I laughed and thought if it were only that easy.