The holiday is Thanksgiving (OK, it was yesterday) but all I'm feeling at the moment is disappointment. When the kids were little their needs were relentless, and I looked forward to when they were older and we could do things together, hang out, have fun.
Forget that. The boy treats us like garbage he scraped off his shoe. Tonight at Shabbat dinner (after inserting the phrase "Chicken butt" into as many of the blessings as possible) he told us how boring we were. I wanted to have people over to help us finish the many pounds of turkey and sides we brought home, but the girl begged us not to invite her friend and her parents. So we had our pathetic Shabbat where the kids couldn't wait to get back to their cell phones.
The kids top the list of disappointments, but it goes on: business, sex life, social life, all blah. No fun, nothing really to look forward to. No sense of accomplishment or pride. It makes me want to curl up in a fetal position. After eating all the Frango-mint cheesecake.
I know things could be worse. We have our health, and employment. Both kids doing OK in school and seeming to have friends. I don't care, I'm having my pity party anyway.
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