My Dear Children...

...you know I love you, or at least I hope you do. I know it's hard to tell when I'm harping on you to do your homework, finish your chores, please do your homework. It's hard to tell I love you when I'm yelling at you, for the 100th time, to quit hitting your brother(s)/sister, please do your homework...DO YOUR DAMN HOMEWORK. I love you even when I'm saying, why isn't the dishes done, how am I suppose to fix dinner(or insert meal here) when I have nothing to cook on(serve on, eat with) or when the stove is pile 10 inches high with pots and pans (but yet the sink is empty). I love you even when I'm screaming at you, trying to figure out why you feel it's okay to do everything I tell you (and that you should know by now ) not to do. I love you, even though you cannot go to your friend's house/birthday party/ Chuck E Cheese/get that game, etc...
It's hard for me to realize you love me sometimes as well. When I ask if your homework's done and you give me that what-are-you-talking-about look. I'm sometimes not sure you even care when I wash/fold/put away 6 loads of laundry only to find it all over the floor of the bedroom and your telling me you have nothing to wear. Do you care when I make cinnamon rolls and bread and cookies and when I ask for help in cleaning the kitchen you look at me like I just asked you if the moon was really made of cheese.
I wish you could feel how much I hurt emotionally and physically after a night like tonight when I've begged, pleaded, screamed, bargained and done nearly everything I could think of to get you to do an hours worth of schoolwork. Which, my dear daughter, you took 4 hours to complete. My dear middle son decided to waste that four hours and not even finish a third of yours. You make me feel so overwhelmed and stressed out that my gut hurts and all I want to do is crawl into bed and escape. Even now, an hour and a half passed your bedtime, you are giving me grief. Please explain to me why you cannot just simply go to bed when told. You know that 5 days a week you have to get up early in the morning and go to school. You know that 5 days a week I have to get up early and go to work. Yet you keep getting up and playing, asking for one more drink, having to bathroom for the umpteenth time, bothering your siblings, having to tell me or your father something that really could of waited till morning. You know that mommy doesn't seem to feel well most days lately, and still you go out of your way to push buttons. You cannot just simply do what your asked to do. Simple jobs. I try to never give you more then I think you could handle. Which means I never give you something to do that cannot be finished in no more then 20 minutes. Not counting homework...but one worksheet, one chapter, maybe two worksheets...should not take you more then an hour to complete.
I love you, my dear children. I really hope I can figure out a way to make ya'll listen to where we can have a harmonious household. I'm tired of yelling.