Levels of Stress...

Ok, so if anybody has read these ramblings of mine, they will kinda get the picture that I sometimes need to vent...lol. Case in point: I am in the kitchen this evening, attempting to make dinner, while studying for my medical mathmatics class, and yelling at my 4 year old to please not climb up the entertainment center, and yes, I know that Spiderman does, but honey, Spiderman has manly muscles and web fluid, you my dear, are not at that level yet.." all the while listening to the background accompaniment of Fergie assuring me that she is "Fergalicious" while my 2nd daughter is doing her desperate best to emulate said Fergalicious Fergie. Add to this already rousing evening, my 120lb Rottie, Sheba, who is trying to sneak into my daughters room to "investigate" the strange noises eminating therein, being made by one fat furball she calls an appetizer, and that we call Guiny the Guinea Pig...sigh.
As I said, I am doing my best to get dinner and studying done (this is not my idea of a dinner/study date by the way..but I digress), and my oldest, Peyton comes to me with her homework, as she needs help. When I ask what help she needs, instead of just giving me " the bare facts ma'am"...she launches into this tirade about the sub that she had today, and how "I don't understand why he gave us this, when we haven't got the answers for it, and I think that he just doesn't like kids Mom!!". Okeydokey. So, I ask her what the problem is. When will I learn? You would think that by now, I would have some idea of the script in this soapopera that I call my life....wouldn't ya?
She plunks the book down on the table, and yes "plunk" is the only way I can describe the lovely sound that the school texbook made as it came into contact with my lovely oak kitchen table, and proceeds to wail " I don't know the answers to these questions, and I have read the book and I still can't find the answers, and now tomorrow I am going to have to stand by the wall, because my homework will not be finished, or I will fail (and you have to put emphasis on the word "fail", in a whinny voice as only a 11 year old girl can do to be able to appreciate the flavor of said whine) and then I won't have a good grade and I will have to repeat the whole fifth grade over!!!!!!"- yeah...did I mention that my daughter is an overachiever with a little bit of drama queen for added flavor?
Me: Well, I am sure that the teacher would not give you homework for something that you did not or have not studied.
P: YES HE WOULD!!! HE HATES KIDS!!!!
Me: Ok, I think that you need to relax, and open the book. That would be a great first step.
P: Very funny Mother...
Me: Ok, all you have to do, (as I take her book) is READ the paragraphs that deal with the subject that you have homework on..
P: I DID!!!! THE ANSWERS ARE NOT THERE!!! HAVEN'T YOU BEEN LISTENING??!!! I AM GOING TO FAIL!!!!! THEN I WILL FLUNK FIFTH GRADE, AND IT WILL BE ON MY PERMANENT RECORD AND THEN I WON'T BE ABLE TO GET INTO MICHIGAN, SO THEN I CAN KISS BEING A FBI AGENT GOODBYE!!!!!!!!!- all of this accompanied by tears and red faces (hers' and mine by this point)
Me: Peyton, look here, isn't this answering the question that he is asking you on the paper?
P: in a quiet voice now...."oh...I must have missed this....ok....."
So, after a little while, she gets it and, "hallelujah" finishes her homework.

Dinner is completed, the masses fed, Spiderman has retired to his spiderweb, Fergie has proven her point on the merits of Fergiliciousness, Guiney has beaten the jaws of death and survived to see another day and I am sitting here with a glass of wine trying to figure out where the hell I put my homework........