TOO. MUCH. STRESS.
Shecky got his progress reports with his mid-grading period marks. His morning classes? AWESOME. All A's. His afternoon classes? Yeah... not so good. 2 C's and B. His teacher has requested that I call her. Lovely. I'm not sure what's going on with him. He's got attitude. He's not listening AT ALL. His grades are slipping and I truly am beside myself wondering what the hell to do at this point.
In mid-stream dealing with all that... Husband calls... His mother has been rushed to an ER in another part of the state with what the SUSPECT is a heart attack. We just SAW her this past weekend. She seemed off but there's a lot of stress going on for her and I just figured that was to blame.
Shit.
Then, my all knowing father decides, TONIGHT, AT SHECKY'S FRIGGIN BEDTIME, that he's to old to need the lamp that he keeps on while he goes to sleep. WTF BBQ? Give me a fekking break! Shecky, of course, melted down in a big way and I ended up staying upstairs with him, on my bed, until he fell asleep. Now, Shecky is sleeping on my king sized bed and I'll be sleeping on a wing back chair.
God... I better loose this week or SOMEONE is getting hurt.
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