Archive for the ‘ambush’ Category

I get inspired to write all the time. I write the most wonderful posts in my head while I’m driving*, cleaning up or changing a diaper. Some times their so funny I nearly piss my pants. Other times their eye watering, poignant. Either way each one is fan-friggen-tastic.

I can’t wait to get on the computer and pound one out**.  I’m practically salivating at the idea of expressing myself as some one other than Mom, Queen of Time Outs and Sippy Cups.

Then shit hits the fan. Literally in some cases.  One second I’m fantasizing about living up to my potential and then some and the next I’m chasing Kieran around with Perry under my arm, a diaper in my hand, the phone pinned between my shoulder and ear and Amanda chasing me, whining requesting yet another outfit change.

Brilliant thoughts? Vanished.

I’ve taken to writing an idea down when I get one. In fact I have a short list sitting on top of my computer right now.

I have no idea where I was heading with those strikes of lightning. They’ll stay right where they are until I get around to throwing them out. Who knows, maybe I’ll remember what I was thinking some time between now and then. 6 months from now if I’m lucky.

PS- Thanks for the inspiration Amy. Your writer’s block was not for naught***.

PPS- While previewing this post. Flock, my browser crashed. Twice.

*When my truck isn’t being possessed by an evil demon that causes the fuel pump to go catatonic with fear.

**Yeah, that sounded dirty to me too.

***Say it with me now, ” Oooh, fancy word”.

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I’ve been dealing with some internal crap lately.  Feeling like a permanent world class fuck-up, having nothing left of me, sundowning at 10am, feeling weighed down emotionally and physically.  I haven’t been able to do much. Just the basics like feeding my kids.

I haven’t even felt like writing. My Father’s day post was written weeks in advance when I was in a better frame of mind. If I had written that post on Sunday, it would have read very differently.

How?

First of all I wasn’t home to write it. I gave Tom what I would have like to have as a gift. A day to himself. I took the kids swimming with my mom and left Tom to do as he pleases. He could putter with his gun, watch hunting shows and nap endlessly.

He did all that except nap. A funny thing happens when the kids and I are out and Tom is left to his own devices. He suddenly has no urge to nap.

I’m not talking about resting for 20 minutes to recharge the batteries. I’m mean must sleep for 2-3 Hours. NOW.

I understand that he works a physically demanding job in 120 degree* heat . That would wear anyone out. But for some odd reason, it’s not nearly tiring when the kids and I aren’t there when he gets home. Hence no nap.

WTF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That just screams ” I don’t want to deal with you” to me.

That really doesn’t help my feeling like I’ve made every wrong decision possible. Choices that affect my kids. Like committing myself for life to the wrong person. The person that helped me create those kids.

I with the kids solo for at least 11 hours a day. That’s not including the time he is present but can’t be bothered. At the end of the day I have nothing left. Not even for myself.

I can’t even muster up the drive to take care of myself.

I’ve been wanting to start working out. I’ve told Tom that I need an hour to myself when he gets home. His answer was that he didn’t get time to himself. Um…… yeah you do. You use it to sleep.  His response was no less frustrating than the actual naps.

” So, if I don’t take a nap when I get home, we’ll be even”.

AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We’ve had conversations about how I need to take better care of myself and exercise. Tom even said that I wouldn’t be around to take care of anyone if I didn’t change my lifestyle. He’s right but he’s unwilling to sacrifice an hour a day for me.

A freaking HOUR!

This near-uselessness pops up anytime I need to leave him in-charge of the kids. He always asks if I can do whatever after the kids go to bed or if my mom can watch them.

At this point my mom** spends more time helping me that Tom does.

I can’t keep this up. I’m  not going to keep this up. Today, after Tom gets home and has some lunch, I am taking my hour. Regardless of what he says.

Like my mom’s very wise friend, Kelly C. told me ” You teach people how to treat you”.

School is in session.

*no, I’m not exaggerating. I’m pretty sure it violates workers rights too.

** I love my mom. She’s AWESOME!

UPDATE-  I got my walk. Without an argument. Shocker! I only took a half an hour because I’m REALLY out of shape and didn’t want to kill my self or my drive to get in shape. My current goal is to start couch25k in October.

I witness one of Amandas newest habits this morning. She took a swig of milk and spit it back into her cup. EW EW EW EW!

I informed her that that was not okay and not to do it again. I didn’t think about it after that. It skeeved me so I moved on.

I have a very nice coffee cup with a lid to help keep it warm when I forget about it. I forget where I put my cup all the time.

I had one of those moments today when I had to randomly abandon my cup to parent. I came back to it an hour later and took a mouthful and felt a floater.

Not much grosses me out like a piece of something floating in my drink and subsequently in my mouth.

Like many moms out there I spit my coffee into my own hand. I was hoping to not get any on my newish carpet. I seriously underestimated the capacity of my mouth. I ended up with coffee down my shirt, on my shorts and all over the carpet.

Luckily the carpet is the exact color of my coffee. Good call landlord man.

The offending item was left in my hand. My mind went straight back to Amanda na dher new trick. I hunted her down in her room. With a big grin she copped to spitting in my coffee.

*urp*

I wanted to laugh. I did laugh while I sent her to time out, actually.  Discipline with a smile isn’t really discipline. She immediately began to shake her tutu’d booty to the music from Sesame Street. I laughed harder.

I couldn’t keep her in time out. Discipline fail.

I’ll just have to keep a better eye on my coffee cup.

I do my big grocery shopping once a month, preferably without kids. I shop for an entire months worth of shelf-stable and freezer items. I prep for at least three days. 1 for coupons, 1 for cleaning fridge and vacuuming the cabinets and 1 for defrosting the freezer. I could spread that out over a couple of weeks but I’m a lazy procrastinator. That and it would all just get dirty and frosty again so why bother.

This month was no different in the basics. What was different however was that I took two cart with me through the store. I figured that I could have one for heavy stuff like cans and juice and one for the more fragile items. I got quite a few strange looks but I didn’t really give it much thought.

I was almost done and in the frozen food department grabbing some veggies when a woman who was giving me a strange look in produce a couple hours earlier asked if all that was for me. She was very nice, especially after I explained to her that I do most of my shopping once a month because taking 3 kids under 4 to the store every week is just insane. Moments later another woman asked basically the same question and got the same answer.

They both nodded and agreed that taking little kids to the store was tough. They both had kids, now teenagers though. They knew that you did what you had to do.

I was in a great mood even after I got my total. The $75 I saved in coupons and shopper club discounts really helped with that. Hell, I was practically giddy because of that.

I dropped my receipt in the lobby and when I bent down to pick it up I heard a voice.

“I bet that’s taxpayer money.”

I stood up and looked straight into the eyes of an 70-80 year old man walking past me. He was talk to me! I was in total shock. He kept staring as he walked by and muttered something under his breathe as he went.


So many thing ran through my mind in those few seconds, I couldn’t even respond to him. I almost called out to him or ran after him but he was lost in the crowd by then. I went and load up my truck instead. 

I was insulted and angry. I waited for him to come out so I could rip him up. or run him over. I sat there for a little bit before I decided to move on before I lost a ton of food to the heat. I cranked “Bleed It Out”  and sped across the parking lot. 

Then I saw him. I was pointed right at the piss ant when I stopped at the stop sign. Once again I just stared but for a different reason. This time I knew just what to do. I wanted to feel the thump of his body hitting my bumper at a high velocity and see his shocked face as his carcass gets thrown. If my foot had touched the gas pedal, I wouldn’t be here to write this. I’d be in court pleading insanity.

I’m not normally an angry person and Linkin Park only comes out when I need a release for my frustrations. So why did this old douchebag get to me so bad?

Because it’s true.

 Yes, my family receives public assistance in the form of foodstamps and medicaid for the kids. It’s not some thing I’m proud of and I would certainly choose to work outside the house if it would actually help. I’ve done the math, it would make us worse off than we are now. If I worked we would need this to survive-
375 a week for daycare
100 gas
150 health coverage
150 groceries and formula
775 just to cover what we would lose and the cost of going to work. 400 if I work a schedule opposite Tom and ask family to babysit for free.

I only have a couple of semesters of college and live in a rural community with a lot of other people out of work. Jobs that pay that well are not only scarce, they’re unheard of. Tom is a CNC machinist and doesn’t even get paid half of that. Sad, considering that the average pay for that job is 37,000. Tom makes $10,000 than the federal poverty guideline for a family of 5. And yes, 400 a week is very rare around here.

It seemed for a long time that every time we would start to do okay, the birth control would fail and Tom would get laid off. The companies he worked for would run out of work and in one case they ended up closing for good. So we applied and qualified for assistance. 
We did this for the kids. It’s not their fault that we live in an economically depressed area . It’s not their fault the housing market took a crap and people stop building new homes. 

We’ve looked at it from every angle. Alternating schedules, asking family to help, moving, me working from home. There is always a fatal flaw in the plan that makes it not workable.

I have to sit and bide my time until it is financially feasible for me to work. Feeling like a schmuck because I am physically capable just so deep into The Brokeness that we would be homeless if I did work. 

About a week and a half ago, Perry decided it was time to start standing independently. Yes, a week shy of 8 months and the little future mastermind is standing on her own for a few seconds at a time. The Mommy in me kicks into gear and I decide to try to get a picture of it. I totally wanted to show off my kid and her crazy ambition.

I tried from both couches, the desk chair and standing. No such luck, the camera was just too slow. I am not so easily thwarted by inferior technology. I waited and my patience was rewarded. Or so I thought.

Perry crawled off into Kieran’s room while the other two were occupied with their own mayhem in Amanda’s room. I went after her and hit the floor just out of sight.

This is the picture I got as her tushie landed. Though I didn’t realize it right then, the flash was a rookie mistake. But then again so was getting on the floor.

Amanda and Kieran must have noticed something was afoot because the came out to investigate. I held my breathe as they walked past me a few times. I knew then and there what a precarious situation I was in.

I don’t know about any other kids but mine can smell fear. At any moment they could smell it on me and turn. They’ve done it before at different times. I knew this could be one of those times.

I relaxed as they walked back and forth between the bedrooms. A little too relaxed. It must have been the lack of oxygen while I was holding my breathe because I thought it would be a good idea to start taking pictures again.

Suddenly the camera gave me a hard time and I couldn’t get a shot off until

Amanda jumped from behind the corner and screamed and I screamed and the camera went off and I knew I was in for a shit storm. I was pinned between the wall and the door jamb when they swarmed. I did the only thing I could. Brace myself and keep snapping pictures. This is how it went down………………….

The ambush was successful
Kieran ran from the living room armed
You really stepped in it this time Mom

I’m surprised I actually got a decent picture

I was laughing too hard to even realize I had pushed the button
I don’t know where she pulled this move from
Quick conference so I can breathe and they can plot.
Just you wait, mommy

Are you okay ?
She’s good. GO GO GO!!!!
Please don’t let farting be apart of the plan. Kieran has wicked sewer butt.
Amanda trying to blow raspberries on my belly
Kieran trying to give me a kiss and me using the camera as a defense
Bad defense. Kieran was successful

 Actually Kieran not only made contact, he actually licked the side of my face and across my mouth while Amanda blew raspberries on whatever she could make contact with and Perry had a hold of my foot.

I lost it. Literally. I couldn’t breathe I was laughing so hard and I pissed myself. I didn’t just let a little tinkle out. I full blown lost control of my bladder. I was defeated.

I had to call for help. I yelled out no less than three times before I had to add that I was serious and Tom peeled my captors off of me. And yes he noticed my pants.

I changed, came back and put the kids to bed without any trouble from at all.

I’m beginning to think they set me up.