Simply Bothered

I’m bothered these days (not the hot-and-bothered “bothered” – the I-can’t-sleep-bc-I’m-thinking-of-this-and-that “bothered”)

Like the killer who should go to Guantanamo rather than a mental hospital (let the guards there do what they, supposedly, do best). Read it Here (Note: The Toronto Star article has a graphic warning). I have trouble sleeping knowing there are people in the world who behead other people. I have trouble sleeping knowing the other passengers had to wait outside the locked bus. Were they scared? Ready to fight? I think about things like this.

I’m bothered that I fret too much about my kids. Thing 2 went to meet a new (well, our first ever) piano teacher. Thing 2 doesn’t “commit” well and I really wanted it to work out. Why did I spend my energy thinking of this?!? As it turns out, Thing 2 gets along with Grandma’ish piano teachers like peanut butter and jelly. I thought too much about that.

I’m bothered that I joined twitter (http://twitter.com/ParentClub). Again, I’ve put myself in a situation like in Grade 9 gym class (week #8 – dance) where everyone is going left and I go right. Why do I keep logging back on? It bothers me. (wait – must switch pages someone just @parentclub)

I’m bothered that (again) I will have to make 3 different meals tonight. It is a beast I created for myself – this restaurant service of catering to everyone’s tastes. Next life I promise to be a drill Sargent: This is what I cooked and this is what you will eat. Rather than my pathetic, Make Thing 1 rice, make Thing 2 potatoes deal that I’ve got going now. This bothers me.

And at the end of yesterday, when I shared my botherings with my prince, he told me: (insert french scoffing accent here); “if this is all you have to worry about – you have a nice life.”

Ugh. bothered and disenchanted.