Archive for the ‘bitch on wheels’ Category

At some point in the past month or so I have become Murphy. Law, not Brown. I wish I was Murphy Brown though. There is no way Life would even consider killing her trucks fuel pump  AND kill her computer on top of it. She would just give it one of her steely glares and all would be right with the world.

Alas, that is not my life.

I am now the but of a joke some where. Even now that my truck has been repaired at a discount, I had to declare Tom’s car useless for the time being. Am I the only person who thinks it’s unsafe when the brakes grind and you need to use the e-brake to slow down?

No?

I didn’t think so.

So now that Tom has my truck and my computer has been turning itself off after 30 seconds, I now know what it feels like to be a 1950’s house wife.  I release the natives, I make them breakfast and clean up while they eat. Then I sit a watch kiddie cartoons until I can’t take it anymore and curl up in the fetal position on the couch and cry silently. After that I make lunch and clean up while they eat. After lunch is nap time and when I take on a project. This week I cleaned 2 closets washed the windows and organized my kitchen.

I only have 1000 squarefeet in my house. I’m going to run out of projects soon.

The first person who sends Geeksquad or a new computer can have Tom’s balls. I’m done with them anyway.

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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.

You’re Making Me Twitch

Posted: Thursday, June 10, 2010 in bitch on wheels, Grrr, irritating, tom

MaryMac over at Pajamas and Coffee had a post today about 7 things that get under her skin. Since I’m PMSing and everything is irking me, I’m going to join in.

I’m going to leave it to what got to me in the past 24 hours just to keep the list short.

  1. Living in the Brokeness– I can’t tell you how much this drive me nuts. All the things I can’t do and can’t have. The bills I can’t pay. That makes my eye (visibly) twitch.
  2. The Swarm– Every time I sit on the couch or the floor, the kids attack me all at once. They all want to sit in my lap, pull my hair, stick their jam hands in my mouth ( eyes, nose, ears, etc.) The only truly safe places are either standing or in hiding. That makes my arms and legs twitch.
  3. Some one (Tom) reading over my shoulder (Tom) when I’m on the computer(Tom). That makes my back twitch.
  4. Not being able to complete a post-  I have no less than three unfinished posts because I got interupted by kids, chores or #3. That makes my brain twitch.
  5. The Cat- I used to love cats. I haven’t been without a cat since I was 12. Recently though, I’ve had the kind of cat tha has no problem NOT using the litter box. She prefers my fluffy, bright white, towels instead. That makes my hands twitch. ( She’s still a vast improvment over Tom’s now deceased “Wife”. She pissed in the toy box and crapped in the hall.)
  6. Birds- They get in my shed and crap all over the place including my dryer. Just plain gross. That makes my gag reflex twitch.
  7. Trailers, mobil homes, hot/ice boxes, tin can with a fridge– call it what you want. I hate living in one. It’s a POS. That makes my heart twitch.

This stuff doesn’t just annoy me it gets under my skin, crawls into my brain and takes root. What gets to you?

4 years ago I was hallucinating. I thought I was in St. Mary’s Hospital in Knoxville,Tennessee. I kept looking at the door, waitign for my aunt to duck waddle into the room. I was going to verbally throw her out on her can. After all that she had done, she had a set of brass ones to walk in right then.

While I was busy waiting for bad blood to rise, Tom did the unthinkable. He walked up, gently touched my hand and informed me he was going to the bathroom. All I could do was nod. I watched as he walked across the room, entered the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

Panic set in. tears started to flow. How could he leave me sitting here scared, alone and in pain. I understood that he had to use the potty when he told me but as soon as that door closed , I was convinved that he left me in the hospital. I was sure he was driving home. In my mind, I was abandoned.

Between working 3rd shift, being sent to the hospital most of the day before for tests and then being up all night with a UTI, I was a mess. I called my DR no less than 20 times that morning only to be redirected to the nurses station at the local hospital. The nurse on duty kept telling me that I was fine and my pain was normal. Something told me she was wrong, so I kept calling.

Finally, she asked me why I didn’t just call my DR. She was pretty annoyed at that point but so was I. She didn’t even offer to page him when I told her that was how got to talk to her all night long. All I got was ” He should be in now, keep trying”. Even after I told her I was bleeding.

I *love* small country hospitals.
I finally got in contact with DR. MIA and was seen immediately. He sent me off to the oh so *wonderful* hospital and the *helpful* nurse for a transfer. They couldn’t help me there. At least they knew that much. 
As soon as I was hooked up to the machines, Nurse*Helpful* came in to tell me that what was happing now had nothing to do with the tests I had yesterday. Maybe not, but I told you my pain had moved and became more intense right before you discharged me. You blew me off. Just like my manager blew me off when I said I needed to pee. He left me waiting for an hour and a half each time.
I really should have let them fire me when I got in trouble for using the bathroom too much.
I didn’t care what she said. I just nodded and asked when I was being transfered and when was Tom showing up. I had lost my confidence in her and the hospital. I wanted OUT.
I knew my situation was bad, but just how bad I was unsure of. I did get a small clue when they gave me some drugs for the pain and brought the ambulance stretcher in at the same time. Only 15 minutes had passed since my arrival. I had sat in the same room for 6 hours the day before over a UTI. I was a little sad that I didn’t get to ride in a helicopter but happy to be going to a better hospital. The problem would be taken care of and I would be in my own bed that night.
Tom must have been flying because he walked in as they were wheeling me out. There was an hour between our locations and he covered it in under 20 minutes.
Despite the painkillers, the ride was agony. Paved or not, that was some of the roughest road I had ever been on. All the dips and turns and sinkholes. I was starting to wonder if the nurse had given me a placebo. Don’t ask me why. That was probably the first delusion of many that night.
They did use the siren for me at lights. Yay me!
I get to Big Hospital still relatively calm. There’s that whole delusional thing working again. I’m greeted by a flock of nurses. Competent, well informed, very nice nurses. 
I hope I apologized in advance. I don’t handle pain well. I’m down right nasty. Like “Exorcist” nasty.
They hook me up and get me comfortable. As much as I can be anyway.   Tom, my mom and his mom show up shortly after me. 
I get to see DR. Specialist who runs some tests to see if I need surgery.
We hang out, I try to relieve the pain while waiting for the okay for drugs. I don’t do so well. I can’t have anything until the tests come back. If I need surgery, they’ll have to give me anesthesia and they don’t want any bad reactions to it.
I’m growling and grumpy. I won’t let poor Tom touch me. It hurt too much. They had me lay on my back for a catheter insertion. Have you ever had one of those with out drugs AND with a UTI. It wasn’t on my list of things to do before I die. It shouldn’t be on your either. I almost puked the pain was so bad. I hadn’t eaten in more than 12 hours so it wouldn’t have produced much anyway.
DR. Specialist comes back and tells me that I don’t need surgery. Yay! Unfortunately the situation had progress too far for me to go home. He also tells me that I can have what ever drugs I want as soon as the anesthesiologist is done with a c-section. Yay! In an hour. Damn!
Time passes, the moms go home with promises to come back first thing, Tom passes out in a chair.
More time passes. I have long since convinced myself that I was in TN and Tom left me.The pain is so intense I can’t sit still and I am using some colorful language. I really hope I apologized at some point. My body keeps trying to fall asleep or pass out, I can’t tell. All I knew was that I was staring at the clock and suddenly two minutes had passed.
Almost 3 hours after the Dr’s okay, my hero walks in. The rockstar of the medical world. 
The Anesthesiologist!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sweet relief!!!! I don’t care how much he gets paid, it’s not enough.
I actually let Tom touch me again, then I am out like a light before  the staff can leave the room. I don’t care how tired you are, there is no way to sleep soundly when people keep poking at you and asking what your pain level is. I didn’t care. I felt no pain and that was my only goal.
Well, it was until something had changed. I woke Tom up and sent him for a nurse because I was too groggy to find the call button. There was a flurry of activity. Every one moved so quick, It was like watching a movie in time lapse. I felt weird being the only one not doing something. I really didn’t have a choice at that point.
After 12 minutes I got this….. 
Due to a UTI, Amanda was born 6 weeks premature on 5/26/2006.
Even through all of that, when I think of her birth, the first thing I think of is turning to Tom, who was all up in my shit to watch,  and saying 
“Holy Shit! I just gave birth!”. 
Happy 4th Birthday Amanda! 

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. 

I have a morning ritual. I get up, leave the kids in bed ( awake or not) and have a cup of coffee in silence. sometimes I drink it in my living room at the computer, sometimes I drink it outside enjoying the quiet. This is what my mom called The Cone of Silence. I’m not sure where she got the name but it seems to fit. If this ritual is not completed properly, my day is shot.

The cone of silence was broken today. It was shattered by a pre-coffee question. It was a simple enough, ” What’s on the agenda today?”. However, I was only pouring my first cup of coffee so the answer came out kind of, well, bitchy. I didn’t even realize just how nasty I sounded until I heard the front door shut. Apparently I hurt Toms feelings.

In my defense, he should heve known better. we’ve been together for 5 years and I have never, NEVER answered a pre-coffee question in anything more than a  growl. He’s lucky he got words.

I went out on the back porch and proceeded with my morning. I was contemplating my unintentional rudeness when Tom stalked past me to check the dryer in the shed. (Yes, my dryer is in my shed. Outside. That’s what happens when you have a landlord who’s ears are bigger than his brains.) I apologized and reminded him that no matter how nice I want to sound, it’s going to come out like I’m posessed. I’m not going to let his forgetfulness ruin my day.

All was forgiven all the way around and I finished my coffee in blissful silence. That silence allowed me to not freak out when

  • Tom turned on The Chipmonks before breakfast
  • passed off dirty diaper duty to me even though he smelled it first
  • gave the kids chocolate chip cookies for breakfast
  • Kieran stuffed 2 of those cookies in his mouth at the same time
  • Amanda freaked out over not having shoes to put on
  • Amanda demanded grape juice instead of strawberry banana
  • Amanda and Kieran turned into zombies in front of the tv
  • Perry sympathy whining all along the way. 

Those 15 tiny minutes let me enjoy the little things like

  • Tom and Amanda having cuddle time on the couch
  • Tom taking care of breakfast so I can screw around on Facebook
  • Kieran playing nicely with Perry
  • Finding a new way to play hide and seek with Tom as my partner in hiding *wink wink*
  • Kieran NOT freaking out when he couoldn’t have something
  • Perrys dimples
  • Amanda wearing Toms work boots
  • being able to go potty with out listening to kids scream and or get in trouble

Despite Toms faux pas, today is shaping up to be a pretty good day and I’ve had enough coffee to enjoy it.