Archive for the ‘irritating’ Category

There are some things in this world that, as a mom, is unavoidable. No matter how much you want to you just can’t get around-

  • whining
  • waiting at the doctors
  • paperwork
  • puke
  • poop

That last one has been very popular around here lately.

It all started last month when Amanda had The Bug. You know the one I’m talking about. Puking, sharting, exhaustion, seemingly endless diarrhea, refusal to eat, all followed up with a nice case of acid reflux.  We call it Icky Belly.

I threw out 4 pairs of underwear last month.  It was that bad.

Now yesterday, I put Perry in her crib for a nap. She protested until she fell asleep. Or so I thought.

I kept smelling poop and since Kieran has recently potty trained himself, I thought he had an accident. That poor boy endured my interrogation for a full 5 minutes.

He’ll make a very patient man someday.

Then I heard Perry.

As I approached the bedroom, the smell became stronger.  When I opened the door I was greeted by a butt neked, grinning she-devil. And poop.

Pooplets to be exact.  Perry had smashed what must have been a dry, little poopie and rubbed it all over her mattress and pushed what was left behind her crib.

Lovely.

Later on, we had a visit from Naana. As usual Kieran hid out with his toys. I thought he was improving because he was actually being quiet about it rather than screaming.

He’ll also grow up to be Anthropophobic .

I have to say that I am not the one who made the discovery. To did when he checked on Kieran.  I found out because Tom is not calm when it comes to body function related emergencys.

To save my own sanity, I stepped in.

I was on the poop hunt again. I had to pick up and inspect every toy in the room. That, of course, was  every toy we owned.  I ended up following a pooplet trail from one side of the room to the other.

At least it was easy to clean up.

Tonight was another story.

Amanda, bless her skinny little heart, refuses to get out of bed by herself.  There is not a good enough reason in this world for her to get up with out permission. She tried once and saw a monster in Mommy and Daddy’s room and never tried again. I also never left my bedroom door open during grown up time again.

Tonight that bit us both in the tush.

Amanda called for me and I couldn’t here her. I’ll blame selective hearing. By the time I responded, it happened. Shit, that is.

This was no pooplet.  It was shit all over the inside of her jammies and down her leg.  It didn’t help that Amanda was having a dancing, whining tizzy while I”m trying to clean her up.

Ugh. I hope this is the last poop event for a while.

And just for the record, we are now down 5 pairs of panties and a pair of pink footie pajamas.

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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”.

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?