So this week was the much dreaded “vbs”.  That stands, officially, for “vacation bible school” but I’m starting to wonder if there aren’t meant to be some swear words in there.  If you might recall (and you might not) I was signed up to help out with vbs.  I thought I was going to have to work in the “4’s and 5’s” room, but I got a last minute reprieve and have been in the nursery.  I’m sure it’s a better situation, if just barely.  Because there are no less than 11 children in that room every day.  And some of them don’t like to be separated from mommy.  One, actually, in particular.  And that child, being closer to 2 than to 0, can really SCREAM.  Or so my migraine tells me.  Tuesday and Wednesday weren’t so bad, and we thought he was improving.  Today we were told he’s coming down with a cold and he was decidedly worse.  By 11 I was starting to wish for a lobotomy, anesthesia or no.

I’m plain exhausted.  I’ve made no secret on here that I’m not good with taking care of other people’s children.  And this has been three VERY LONG days worth of other people’s children.   The thought of going back tomorrow makes me want to pull my lip back over my head and hide under it.  When I told NewFriend today that this was my punishment for something I’ve done wrong, she suggested that maybe it was God calling me where he needed me.  Nope.  God knows I’m not good with other kids.  No, this is definitely punishment.  I just wish I knew for what.

I may not go back tomorrow.  Right now I’m leaning towards not.  Considering that I got home today and proceeded to have a mini-breakdown, the result of pent-up nerves.  I’m just not made for this stuff, people.  But my sense of social duty might get the better of me and I may drag my ass back over there tomorrow.  I’d rather be boiled alive.