I don't want to talk about it, wait, I mean I do

Ugh.

WHY is it that one half of my life is going really well (excellent, even) and the other half is in shambles.


Seriously, all the "me as an individual" stuff is fine. My personal life is bustling with joviality and freshness and vim. I've got a date to the State Fair (romantic, huh?). My classes are going well, by which I mean that I've lost track of how many A's I've scored on tests in the past 4 weeks. My house is clean, I've been eating healthy... I could go on, but my heart is breaking.

"Me as a mother" is in jeopardy; not my identity with that role, but the actual mechanics of it.
Harry called to b---- me out this morning because Cora reported back to him about something I said to her about her late arrivals to school. Granted, what I said was wrong; I told her that I don't want her running to Harry to tattle on me about me getting her to school late that day. YES I know he needs to be informed, etc etc. But I was frustrated because he has been calling me with non-stop complaints about my way of doing things lately.

So, anyways, of course, she must want me to be even more stressed and flip out even more, because she went and told him exactly that and then he called me a dozen times to make me even more miserable than I already am about it all.

All I could tell him was that I know I suck at it and I'm SORRY. I'm pretty sure I can make this all work (God, I hope so). Sure, I've been impatient, as I had some pretty big problems come up right after the holidays, and yes, I've made mistakes. I want to be really good at mothering. But, according to Harry, I'm a really bad person and I might as well just give up trying.


I hate dualism sometimes.