Archive for the ‘blue’ 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?


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.


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.


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.


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”.


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.

My daughter looks like she found a colony of Smurfs and devoured each and every one. Amanda ate a crayon. A blue triangle Crayola crayon. What is a three year old doing with a writing utensil unsupervised, you may ask? Good question. I didn’t know she had it until it was too late. It’s a short story but I’ll make it long because Mandy’s having a screaming hissy in time out and I have a little time to kill.

Mandy had recieved a two pack of Crayola Washable Triangular Crayons for a last day of the school year gift at preschool. I was excited, I love to color. I even took coloring books and crayons with me when I had to be induced with Cytotec over two days and again when I actually went into labor with both Kieran and Perry. So, right after lunch I broke out the rest of the crayons and some paper and we got down to business. As usual Kieran and Mandy tried to eat the crayons within a couple minutes. Kieran had a couple fleck on his teeth, nothing new. Mandy on the other hand, had orange smeared on her face and hands. wait a sec, we don’t even own finger paints. Where did this come from? That’s when I realized the crayon was melting. I took both new crayons away and put them on the cuonter to attend to another crisis.

Now I know I should have thrown them out right then and there. I had every intention of doing so. I got distracted and forgot about them completely. I was quickly remind of them when I caught Kieran running down the hall with one in his hand a blue streak across his chest. He was so proud of himself. I took the offending crayon away and put it on top of his dresser when I heard shrieks for the potty coming from another room. I learned real fast that you do not ignore cries for the potty. once again I forgot about the wicked crayon of the west. It sat on top of kierans dresser, more than 4 and a half feet in the air, for several weeks.

I walked past it 5 or 6 times a day, minimum. Did I move it? No. I saw it and thought that I should throw it out but never got to it. Like I said I’m easily distracted and was probably trying to stay on task. I was also working under the assumption that neither child could reach it with out assistance. There is nothing to climb on to reach the top of the dresser so the crayon was safe. Ha, Ha! The jokes on me!

Today Mandy locked herself in her brothers room. There is nothing that can hurt her so I let her stay in there while I took out the garbage and threw some cloths in the dryer. I come back, open the door and find a smiling, Smurf eating monster. I stood there in shock with my moth hanging open as I surveyed the blue smeary lumps on Kierans floor, rug, the kids cowboy hat and Mandy. She had and blue ear to ear grin with blue dripping from either side. Time out was instituted and screaming ensued.

The screaming continued while Mandy wiped the crayon of her face with her blankets and until she fell asleep. I guess it’s nap time. Now I get to find out if that stuff really does wash out.