I try to make them happy...

and all they do is complain. Yesterday, I took Hannah to volleyball practice where she threw a fit when she got her shorts. The first pair were too tight; the second pair were too baggy. Today, Hannah and Emily had their first karate lesson. Emily cried forever about her outfit because she said it made her look fat. I fought with her and fought with her and fought with her. She left in tears--lots and lots of tears. Then, I made sure dinner was ready for Ray when he got home (since he took them tonight). He made a comment about what we were eating (Chicken Florentine) and I reminded him that he had requested that meal. "No I didn't" was his response. "Yes, yes you did." Then I had to rehash the conversation we had had. And, to top if all off, Ray will feel like he saved the world by taking them to karate tonight even though I've done the dishes, cooked dinner, and picked Emily up from Brownies. Yesterday I took Hannah to practice, cooked dinner, and would have taken Emily to basketball if it hadn't been cancelled. Tomorrow, Hannah has physical therapy and Emily has basketball. I'll do both of those as well as cook dinner (which never makes everyone happy--someone always complains). He'll think he's just gone above and beyond his call of duty with this one, tiny adventure.

I'm getting real tired of trying to make people happy.