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SALT LAKE CITY — OK, y’all. My brain blew up last night, and I am left picking up the pieces.
In the past week, my brain has bounced from one-to-one counting and sight words to fact family charts, from times tables to finding the area of a circle, and from researching Africa and analyzing a TED talk to helping write a mock financial plan.
This has all been done while trying to feed my family on depleting food storage and the two-soup-can ration, no meat, limited dairy, and baking goods that online shopping has because I have no time or desire to enter a grocery store.
Still no toilet paper.
My brain has stepped back into kindergarten mode and fourth grade math, all while trying to take care of a house with busy toddlers and a near-walking baby who wants to spend his time only in the staircase to practice his death-defying skills.
Utah Compose has officially let me know that I am a terrible writer as I try to help my fourth and fifth grade children create something worth submitting to their teachers. This drop in confidence has made me question my own side job of choice, leaving our rainy day money hanging in the balance.
I am reliving my high school years one report and bar graph at a time. I now know that biology, although the key to my physical origin, was never part of my life plan. Computer science and child development are two classes that I never took in high school, and I thank my lucky stars every day that they were not a part of my success plan.
And, you guys, I am convinced that middle school, whether at home or at school, is useless. The grades don’t "count" and the work is too advanced. I have officially surrendered. Come what may, if failing occurs, it will all be part of my seventh grade son’s "middle school was the worst part of my life" life story.
... I am convinced that middle school, whether at home or at school, is useless. The grades don’t 'count' and the work is too advanced. I have officially surrendered.
As I pick up the scattering fragments of my brain, I can’t help but laugh at my own life story that now consists of this awesomeness.
"Remember the time when mom cried because she didn’t know how to graph a slope?" will be said in family gatherings in years to come.
"You see those butt prints in the couch? Those are from three hours of online homework a day," the kids will say.
"Oh, and do you remember when mom yelled out words in gibberish and then ran out the door screaming, and we didn’t see her for several hours?" they’ll ask.
That’s when I’ll tell them about the day my brain exploded and I escaped to the mountains to hide among the towering trees of the pine forest. It was the day when I decided it wasn’t worth the fight and we were going to sail through this and not suffer because of it. It was the day when mom decided that every day from here on out was officially Saturday — or at least the next seven days, because …
Spring break, y’all. We made it to spring freaking break!
Has your brain exploded yet? Tell us your harrowing story in the comments.
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