My life with the Sullivan boys

There's a message on the machine when I return home. "Hi Sue this is Deb from transportation, because of a scheduling issue with another student, effective immediately Dermot's new drop off time will be twelve noon." I paced in circles in my kitchen, I'm angry. I've planned my entire school year around this school drop off time, and they changed it. Just like that. I sit on my kitchen floor and cry. I cannot be two places at once. I guess Dermot doesn't get to ride the bus. I call Deb back and leave a voicemail. "Hello Deb, this is Sue Sullivan Dermot Sullivan's mother. I will pick up Dermot from school effective immediately." With each word it becomes more obvious that I'm crying through the message so I hang up. It seems to be a trivial occurance or a minor irritation from the outside. I tried to tell myself that. But why was I moved to tears so quickly and so intensely? Am I finally losing it? Have I lost my composure for the last ...

God dam nit! God Damn it! I shouted as loud as my lungs would let me. My cute adorable little beagle had done it again. God damn it! I couldn't stop shouting. My four year old looked at me as if I was a crazy person. "Mom, that hurts my ears." he informed me. " "I'm sorry honey, mommy's really angry. I'll try to stop yelling so loud." I told him as I was feverishly removing the slipcover on my white canvas couch. I moved this couch down from the boys room for a fresh start. No dog drool or urine. No stains, no gross history. Just fresh crisp white couch. Until this morning. I was arranging the cute new throw pillows on my pristine couch when I noticed the puddle. God damn it! My sense of order has been rocked. My idea of how things are isn't true. My dog peed on my couch. Again. Dermot starts kindergarten tomorrow. He's going to be fine. He will love it. His teachers will love him. I know all of this , I do. But the thought of d...