Work and Self-Pity A small indulgence

This has been a very busy week. And an even busier weekend.
Despite this, I'm relatively happy. Everyone is asleep but me.
Friday morning I took S to school. It was dress-as-your-fave-book-character day. S chose Anne of Green Gables. We did our best to dress her old fashioned. We braided her blond hair and laughed when she lamented about blond and not red (as Anne hated her red hair). Then we packed her lunch into a beautiful old basket that was my mom's about 55 years ago, along with a old book of love poems (S remembered this detail-Anne always carrying a book of poetry). She looked very cute. Lame-O me did not have sense enough to remember a camera until much later in the day.
After dropping her off, I came home for 30 minutes and cleaned before leaving E with my mom so I could take my MIL to surgery #3 to remove more cancer from her breast. I left at 9:30am and got home at 5:15pm. The surgery went well (we'll get the pathology reports Wednesday- pray its all gone now) and Margaret was doing very well in recovery.
Once home, I held a very tired E who immediately fell asleep in my arms. I got to talk to S for about 15 minutes and stuff my face before going out the door to work for Mr. Senior Guy until 11pm.
Saturday, a Birth Project meeting of sorts here until I had to drive Greg's damn running shoes to him at work. Then work myself from 6-11pm.
This morning I woke at 5:30am, showered, and was at the credit union by 6am to clean. Home again by 8am. Got everyone dressed and fed and out the door by 8:20. Back to MIL's house for a visit. I dropped off the family and headed to Detroit for a 10am prenatal visit.
Back to MIL's by 11:30am. Then we all went to Trader Joe's because I had no groceries at home and knew I'd have no time to get them today if I waited til we came home.
Arrived back home at 4pm. Was able to fart around here with the kids until 5:45 when it was time to go to Mr. Senior Guy's house for the night.
He was sweet and let me out early, 9:30 instead of 11, since I did him a big favor for working this weekend since his girlfriend is on vacation.

I really am grateful for our incomes and our employment. Michigan is in a really bad place as far as our economy goes. I really and truly try not to complain.
But I'm gonna, just for a second.
Because I am so tired of always going out the door. I am tired of missing bedtimes. I am tired of working 6 days a week. I am tired of stressing about whether I'll get to clean on time, whether I can manage to pick S up from Brownies by 5, make dinner, actually eat it and be out the door by 5:45 for Mr. Senior Guy. I'm tired of being stressed about being called to a birth while working for either job.
My week consists of driving S to and from school,writing articles and trying to put together an ever-increasing-in-bulk class curriculum for a pelvic exam/anatomy class I want to teach (this part I am really enjoying, however), doing at least 3 loads of laundry a day, keeping our house straight, trying to keep E on his seizure meds and constantly worrying about if he's going to pass out and smash his head open, planning and cooking meals, making sure S practices her spelling words, working for Mr. Senior Guy 4 nights a week, cleaning 2 nights a week, and doing various hour-long prenatal visits all over the tri-county area in the meantime.

There. I'm done.
I try not to make laundry lists of all the shit I do, but I am fairly worn out at times.
And I miss my family. I miss my children. I miss my husband. We're missing a time clock by the back door so that Greg and I can punch in and out as we pass each other for shift change.

I'm going to bed now. Going to wake Greg up from his place on the trundle bed in the kids room so that I can at least feel him next to me in bed.

Self-pity over. I promise.