Pass the Zoloft please

There are moments when I think I'm going to spiral out of control and I just want to curl up in a ball, read a book and listen to The Smiths depress the shit out of me.

Then, there are the times when I am Susie FreakingHomemaker and bouncing off the walls mending things, cleaning and humming a little tune.

Today, I'm in the fetal position mood. No particular reason. Just lots of little things. I encouraged my husband to go ahead and coach his "big" team one more year because the kids were so sad to see him go. Well, three of the kids whom he returned for didn't register. Two of them want to, but it may be too late. A fourth kid he came back for had the rug pulled out from under him by his dad who told him no soccer, you'll play baseball this season. What the hell is that all about?

Money also weighs heavily on my mind. I know the set amount my honey makes, but my income varies as much as Kirstie Alley's weight. I never know from one month to the next how much I'll have coming in or even if I will have any at all. It makes it sort of hard to pay the bills sometimes or have any extra for fun.

I have several friends who are sick and that breaks my heart. I'm fighting the food wars with my 7-year-old. I'm not giving in either. It is killing me inside. I feel so cruel, but know I'm doing the right thing. I just wish he wasn't so darn stubborn. I have no idea where he gets it from. *whistling and looking around*

*sigh*

So, maybe I'll put the kids to be early tonight and curl up next to my husband and watch Project Runway and put the worries behind. I think that sounds like a great idea. That at a fruit smoothie spiked with Captain Morgan should make me feel all better. Ok, at least a little better for a short time.