One Day at a Time

I can only do one thing at a time.  Lately, that one thing has not been blogging.  I guess marginally, it's been exercising and focusing on my weight (is the scale broken, can it only go upwards?  That needs to be investigated further.) 
I know writers, I've been married to one for quite some time, and I find myself thinking "just sit down and write,"  and yet.  I find Blitz games on Facebook for hours at a time rather than write for just a few moments.
Mostly, I've lost my sense of humor about my kids.  About parenting.  It's been less fun lately.  It's been more worry lately.  It's less fun and sassy Emma Stone, and more desperate and inexplicable like Lindsay Lohan.  It's all expecting catastrophe and not being surprised when it arrives.  It was fighting about homework and just trying to make it to the weekend.  It was all boys punching and arguing and being mean and me and M caught in the middle trying to make peace.  It was fighting and name calling and don't let those 2 be in the same room together lest something gets broken.
So summer brings new challenges. 
From the last day of school until the middle of June, my sister and her husband were here.  That's a story unto itself.  Literally, the day we said goodbye to them, my parents arrived.  Then, M and I took our vacation.  Our long awaited vacation.  Our first vacation since 2007 without the kids.  We were gone.  On another continent.  My parents were in charge.  And there (apparently) was no fighting, no punching, no don't leave them in the same room lest something get broken.  It was apparently easy peasy lemon squeezy.  Who were those kids?  How did my parents find Emma Stone where we left Lindsay Lohan, all disheveled and hungover looking?
Now, we're back to just the four of us.  Two parents restored by vacation, two kids spoiled by grandparents.  It's supposed to be all fresh and new and sassy and post-rehab Lindsay.  But I don't feel changed.  I don't feel invigorated.  Blech.
Each morning, I wake up and think "today I will do better.  I will be a better parent."  After that first cup of coffee, after watching the kids fight argue first thing in the morning about what to eat for breakfast, I want to give up.  I'm giving up.  Today is the day I quit parenting. 
Maybe that will help me write.  If I can only do one thing at a time, maybe I should do that.