man oh man

I am overwhelmed with testosterone. OVER-FUCKING-WHELMED.
We are how ever many weeks into summer vacation and I feel like I have to be atleast a mile down the road to breath any real breaths. The ones I take here now are short and shallow and not life-giving at all. I am crushed to the floor and ground with their boasting, needing, agressing, dripping selves over and over all day and into the night. They seek me out so often, that I am reduced to taking nightly "baths", where sometimes I just run the water to be able to sit alone in a room for a half hour. The one weapon I have against their constant approach is my naked body. The threat of such a thing keeps them well at bay. Maybe I should become a nudist.
That'll teach 'em.
Nope, nope it won't. The fact is, this is the reality for a mother of three boys at the ages mine are, living the life I live. I find guilt, naturally, in my hiding in the tub. Of course, I should not feel guilt at all, instead, I should be patting myself on the back for giving myself these moments and not strangling those boys. I'm not sure (MOM) where the guilt comes from, but it always comes.
I need a day off from the never ending need machine and I will take it, guilt free. Not hearing the noise from the other side of the bathroom walls makes it a whole lot easier to appreciate the time off, especially if there's no false nudity involved.
Or laundry and dirty dishes, none of that either.

boiled over

In a house with 5 people, 4 of them male, who do you think would be taking out the trash and stacking the firewood? You would think it would be one of the males, wouldn't you? You would, especially, if the dynamic in this house is that the woman takes on the traditional motherly role of cooking, cleaning, and child rearing. The father goes to work, he brings home the money. The mother does everything else. Three lazy, ungrateful children lie around and refuse to help when asked.
I am so fed up with my children that I have been uttering awful things under my breath. Things, that, if you heard me, you might want to call some authority at once. Rest assured, I am not going to physically harm any of my brood. However, a mental ass-kicking is in order, and I'm boiling over with lessons to be taught. I do not make New Years resolutions, but this past week has changed my mind. I am going to speak less. No speech, no begging, no lectures... for these boys I will reserve my breath and give one word answers. Mostly in the form of "no".
Can I drive?
No.
Can I get a ride to Scotty's house?
No.
Can I get a ride to the mountain?
No.
Will you? Can you? Can I?
No. No. No.
Yesterday, while the snow was falling and I was loading a cord of wood into a wheelbarrow and then stacking criss cross for good air circulation, I was angry and ashamed. I have raised my boys to be this way? All three are in the house, playing video games and eating and taking naps while I am outside for 3 hours in the snow stacking wood and they're ok with that? What have I done? I know I have told them the complete opposite of all of this. Didn't I?
It's these moments that make you question your worth as a parent. Of course, I know I'm not a bad parent, but not being bad doesn't make you good. Honestly, I want to be great. This project is a huge portion of my life and what if the finished product is three lazy, ungrateful battling jerks? This has to be fixed right f'ing now.