Mike had always promised that when he got out of school that I wouldn't be left holding the bag any more. And yet, I am doing more now than I ever did when he was in school. I now do all the laundry, the budget, the shopping, the bills, and all the evil menial chores that there are to do in the house.

I want to go to grad school or some school, really badly, but had to blow that off when he started working overtime. Someone had to be with the kids.

Lately, he comes home late because he's dorking around at work, playing Quake and stuff like that. He said it's because I'm not home when he gets home anyhow, so he's got nothing to rush home to.

Yeah, I'm a rotten bitch. I'm usually dragging both kids to the market when they're in a lovely state of full pitch whine to buy the food to make dinner. When I get home, and he's not there, I get Russell whining about when Mike will be home and snacking and the baby continues to scream, because she's been screaming all the way back from daycare and all the way through the store and all the way home from the store and all the way into the house. I give her mini bagels, crackers, and bananas and she just keeps screaming until he walks through the door. And the whole time, I'm cooking dinner for the lot of them wishing I was almost anywhere else on the entire planet.

I hate every single one of them.

I dread picking Russell up because I don't want to fight with him about his homework. I don't want him picking a fight with me about anything. I don't want to have to ask him to do his chores. I don't want to know what a miserable fucking day he had cutting out shapes in the third grade. I usually just ask him to be quiet because I need some peace, even though I've spent the whole day by myself.

I spend 45 minutes at home trying to answer questions about homework and otherwise avoiding Russell. And then I have to spend half an hour alone with him in the car on the way to pick up Genny. He critiques my driving speed and doesn't understand why I leave early and rush to the daycare to get my lousy $5 each week. (If I pick up on time for the week, I get $5 back.) I explain that that $5 adds up to $20/month and that's two trips to McDonald's.

Only, we've had this conversation almost word for word for weeks now.

After getting Genny in the car and handing her a drinking cup, her toy cell phone and Curious George, we invariably get 2 minutes down the road and she drops the cup or phone, says, "Uh-oh." And then wiggles and screams forever trying to reach said object until she gets it again or until someone hands her the dropped object. If said dropped object is not returned to her possession, she finally gets bored with screaming and starts ripping off her shoes. If she rips off her shoes, invariably they get stuck, or she drops them and she screams about that, too.

Then Russell starts whining about her screaming. "Why can't she stop? Does she have to do that, Mom?" Like somehow, it's my fault that she's pissed off about everything. I've tried snacking her, giving her more than one cup and it's never enough and I still haven't mastered driving with the back of my head.

Often, I get the privilege of taking these two charmers to the store. Russell hates to shop and usually whines about that. He complains,"Why don't you do that during the day?" No one seems to realize that I have a full-time job and it isn't "housewife." Editors have to edit. Genny only cries hard at the checkout if I am not in her full sight. Otherwise, she hugs me up and down the aisles, stopping only to cry bitterly when I reach to grab the groceries off the shelf, rather than hugging her. Meanwhile Russell pitches a full blown bitch fit about shopping and not getting what he wants, etc.

I can deal with hugs, but upon getting her back in the car with the groceries, she starts screaming all the way home again. Sometimes, I buy bread just so I can give her something to do that doesn't involve screaming for the 5 minutes it takes to get home.

Upon walking in the door, Russell kicks it up a notch. He does things to purposely piss off Genny, so she screams more. He makes sure to disappear shortly thereafter, so I'm glad he's gone and am less likely to call on him for help.

Of course, this weekend, I discovered why he's sucking ass in school. All that disappearing to read that he was claiming to do, was actually Gameboy time. Please recall he's grounded, so he's not allowed Gameboy time. So he's been lying his ass off to both me and Mike.

Then Mike comes home and I get to nag him to help me with stuff until we both go to bed because otherwise, I'll get the privilege of not only cooking dinner, but cleaning up the disgusting mess left from dinner for several days or until the teenager I've hired to help clean comes in and gives me reprieve. I find I am often flirting with him to get him a little hot in order to coerce him into doing his chores. It's manipulative and shitty, and unfortunately, it works. It also makes me loathe him and as a result, not want to sleep with him because I can't make love to someone I have to nag and perpetually harrass into helping me.

I asked my husband last night if he could remember the last nice thing he did for me without being asked.

He couldn't think of one either.

Last night, as I lay in bed feeling sorry for myself, I realized that grad school just isn't an option, no matter how much I dream about it.

So last night, I tossed and turned, hugging my pillow and hating them all.