I don't have the answers yet, but I have learned enough to be dangerous, and ask better questions..

The election's a mess.
The courts will have to decide who is president.

The country's a mess.
It's completely split in two - where will reunification come from? Civil war is more likely...

The house is a mess.
I am overrun with renovation work, and tired of working on a house, but what I am really doing is working on a psyche whose symbol is merely the house.

Gut and redo. Tear down and build back up. No, I think I'll just paint and cover over.

I am a mess.

I should qualify that.

I did take my shower this morning.

Emotionally, however, I am a disaster area.

FEMA will be arriving shortly, I am sure.

I spent most of last night helping my daughter memorize and spell correctly the continents and the oceans for her test this morning. What should have been relatively easy became an emotional maelstrom when she realized a) this wasn't as easy as 1st grade, and b) I wasn't backing down at all on this one. Damn it, she will pass that test, even if I think the bar is a bit too high for a 7 year old. Despite the fact that I relate exceptionally well to children, I found myself impatient, pissed off with her emotional tantrums over being made to do this. She pulled the Piscean escapism on me - it's too hard, and she just can't do it. But I pushed and pushed, and we seemed to make a little progress between bursts of tears and wails of despair.

It was, however, merely the three-step dance of frustration - you know the one. Oh you don't? Well, it goes like this - one step forward. two steps back... twirl in the middle, fall flat on your back....

So of course, not being the most patient of women, I erupted in hot-headed frustration two hours later over her continuing inability to spell Anartica and Astralea correctly.

I removed myself from doing further damage, and took a shower in anger, after telling her that we would have to keep working on this until she got it right, because her teacher would keep making her test over and over again.

When I emerged from the shower, she had quietly drawn a map of the world by herself, and was tearfully attempting to test herself once more.

Trepidly, she approached me, test in hand, sniffling as I looked it over.

I almost didn't have the heart to tell her she'd missed Erope this time, and had regressed in her spelling of North and Sowth Amarica. There also was no Artic Ocen, or Indan Ocen. She sniffled again, and finally got it all right.

Sigh.

I consider this one of my less than stellar examples of parenting.

At the end, I held her tight and told her how proud I was that she tried so hard to get all of it correctly. I was most proud of her for taking responsibility (she missed this one on her spelling test, transposing one stinking letter to make responsidility) for this task. I also told her that if she got a perfect score on the test, I would take her to Chef Karim's - the local outstanding Morroccan eatery replete with delectable, decadent spicy and rich foods eaten only with your fingers, harem decorations, and belly dancers. This is her absolute favorite spot (and one of mine).

Keep your fingers crossed for my baby.

I hope to be shaking my booty and eating morroccan lamb at Karim's by the end of the week.

And as for my emotional mess, I've deleted my original rant. Too personal. Removed to the journal.