Grumpy. Tired. Stuff.

I've decided to blame pregnancy hormones.

I woke up this morning angry. Angry at several layers and aspects of 'the system' for various struggles I'm having with it, and for the ones I'm avoiding. My kids are about to not have medicaid, because I can't get proof of child support because NC says that SC has to 'put it in the system' and SC says they don't have *that* system, and that they'll happily fax proof if NC will just fax a request, to which NC snaps, "I will not fax anything! It's YOUR job to get me this information!"

I'm angry at the school for bouncing back and forth between being the best and the worst. It's wonderful how they pull together a small community and make everyone feel welcome at the fifth grade picnic, and how all the parents brought food or gave their time to make it happen, and all the things the teachers did that are above and beyond what is required or expected of them. Not just with year-end stuff, but in general. So why does such a wonderful group STILL not get that school endorsement of religion equals [an aspect of] government establishing a preferred religion, and that, more importantly, it alienates those who aren't members of said preferred group, makes them feel less welcome, less included, less worthy? And how can the same school hold teachers who I would happily clone and put in every classroom, teachers who would make the world open up for every one of these kids, and monsters who should never be allowed around any child unsupervised, if at all?

I don't know whether to praise all they do so well- not just well, but beautifully, wonderfully, devotedly, or be angry at all the hurt they've caused, and I don't know how to reconcile the two opposite feelings toward the same institution.

And I'm angry at this whole custody thing that's still moving like snails through molasses when it should've been finalized in October of last year. And mad about a dozen details of it that I just cannot openly state online. And mad and sad that my kids are hurting. And I feel helpless because I can't stop it. Can't stop him.

And for a dozen related factors that I also can't state openly.

And at this job thing, which I'd've walked out on the second day if it wasn't my family.

And I'm TIRED. I can't deny my kids some basic fun things- company, time to ride bikes in town, etc- when I'm about to miss them for eight weeks. But two in the morning the big kids still making noise, and five in the morning the baby up, and six in the morning the girl up, up to stay, and eight in the morning the nephew here, and then this afternoon heading to work till eleven or twelve and then an hour's drive home.....I don't know how I'm going to survive it when I'm already so tired I can't think.

And I'm grouchy. I'm jumping on the kids for stuff that doesn't matter. And I can't make myself stop. And I can't take a nap or go for a walk or anything, because, you know, kids.

And I am reading WOT for what must be the eighth or tenth time, and scenes (where Faile comes riding back after Perrin sent her away and she's leading an army and the kid who told Perrin that another army was firing on the trollocs turns out to be a cousin of his after he thought he'd lost his whole family) are making me cry. Cry!

And so, that one is the final key, I think, that allows me to call it 'emotional because of pregnancy hormones' instead of 'I'm an angry mean bitch'.