...my children just wear on me. They'll start in with their shrieking, whining, and bickering...and a weight on my chest will settle, dragging me down. They exhaust me. It makes me want to go hide in my room under my covers (which, in fact, is exactly what I do sometimes). I'll find myself begging, pleading with them to please, please just stop and listen to me, unable to muster the energy to push myself into the cacophonous fray. They'll cling and pull on me, crawling up my legs and into my head. Sometimes, I just want to peel them off like uncomfortable clothing, fold them nicely up, and stuff then in my closet. I'd take a deep breath and then go out to lunch, followed by some leisurely shopping. all. by. myself.
...for now, however, I suppose I'll just continue to rely on the occasional popsicle and the insistence that they must eat it outside.