Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Gurgling Eva (like a babbling brook)
Dangit, sometimes I hate Blogger. I keep trying to upload a video of Eva gargling and cracking up. Wonder if I'd have better luck putting it on YouTube and then linking there? I don't have time for this crap. I have slothful things to do. Don't cry; someday maybe you'll see the video. It's all about exploiting my kids, right?
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Mind Your Own Business, Neighbor Lady
Thursday night comes and that flipping neighbor who can’t mind her own business comes to my door at dinnertime to bug us about bikes in the yard. Gripes that these other kids leave their bikes out front overnight and wants to make sure we don’t. Which we don’t. We put our crap up every night in the garage.
She asks when I’m due. Aron tells her in 2 weeks. I say, “Any day now, and you’re gonna make it come faster by bugging us, lady.”
Then she tells my kids to put their shoes on so they don’t step in dog crap. I’m sorry, lady, but last time I checked, the kids came out of MY vagina. Caring about their wellbeing because I’m incompetent is one thing, but assuming I’m a deadbeat mother all the time gets old when you don’t even know me. And she loves to snipe at the kids when I’m not around. Snipes at my little babysitter about keeping Eva out of the street. Ya think?!
Why do people do that? It just makes ornery people like me wait until my upstanding husband leaves town and then put ALL our bikes in the yard and park my van in the front yard overnight and jack it up on blocks. Ooh, and devils and skeletons in the yard for Halloween.
Aron’s so sweet and listens to her and nods and makes her think he agrees with her. I get snippy and yell from the other end of the house, “Get a life! You bug everyone on this street and the next.”
So I get all pissed off and then I think, “That could be me when I’m old. I mean, I hope I don’t snipe at kids and stuff, but what if Aron’s dead and my kids never come around because I’m bitchy and I alienate people and all I do is call the city on people’s cars being 2 inches past the sidewalk? I have to NOT be like that.”
She asks when I’m due. Aron tells her in 2 weeks. I say, “Any day now, and you’re gonna make it come faster by bugging us, lady.”
Then she tells my kids to put their shoes on so they don’t step in dog crap. I’m sorry, lady, but last time I checked, the kids came out of MY vagina. Caring about their wellbeing because I’m incompetent is one thing, but assuming I’m a deadbeat mother all the time gets old when you don’t even know me. And she loves to snipe at the kids when I’m not around. Snipes at my little babysitter about keeping Eva out of the street. Ya think?!
Why do people do that? It just makes ornery people like me wait until my upstanding husband leaves town and then put ALL our bikes in the yard and park my van in the front yard overnight and jack it up on blocks. Ooh, and devils and skeletons in the yard for Halloween.
Aron’s so sweet and listens to her and nods and makes her think he agrees with her. I get snippy and yell from the other end of the house, “Get a life! You bug everyone on this street and the next.”
So I get all pissed off and then I think, “That could be me when I’m old. I mean, I hope I don’t snipe at kids and stuff, but what if Aron’s dead and my kids never come around because I’m bitchy and I alienate people and all I do is call the city on people’s cars being 2 inches past the sidewalk? I have to NOT be like that.”
Monday, October 5, 2009
Another Brick in the Wall
Hey. Teacher. Leave them kids alone (grammatically incorrect sentence, dangit). Eva clearly is going to be a difficult student.
Can you tell I feel like crap and don't have the energy to put out thought-provoking posts? I'm doing these in advance in case I head to the hospital. Wouldn't want to leave you high and dry on the blog, pals.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Aron’s Family
You’re actually getting a pretty current blog post here … not a stale one that’s been put into the system a week in advance. This one is being put in on Saturday night about Sunday. So …
Lately I’ve been WORTHLESS. If I don’t feel sick to my stomach, I feel feverish or have a headache or sinus issue or just plain must lay around until I build up my energy reserves to be able to do something simple like go to the grocery store alone. Like today I had to lay around until almost 2:00 to be able to go do a fun family thing with Aron and the kids.
So tomorrow I’m going to church at 9 a.m. at Aron's insistence (holy crap!), then we’re driving about an hour away to see Aron’s family (which only happens twice a year … I really want to go so Joel can spend time with his treasured cousins), then later I’m being taken out for ice cream by 2 of my best friends (God bless them).
The NORMAL me would have no problem with this schedule … this would be a light day. The me as of late kind of wants to cry at the prospect of Sunday. And no, I’m not even worried about going into labor an hour from my hospital.
What was my point? Oh, my point is that I’m excited to see Aron’s family (his mom’s family … she’s the oldest of 11 kids). I love his cousins and aunts and uncles. They are nice, down-to-earth people. They will understand if I can’t get up off my butt at all. I love these people! And let’s not forget that my first husband’s family consisted of a bunch of materialistic jackholes. The dad had a some promise, but my biggest accomplishment in his eyes was the year I pulled in $18,000. I don’t make squat writing articles and mothering these days, but I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.
Lately I’ve been WORTHLESS. If I don’t feel sick to my stomach, I feel feverish or have a headache or sinus issue or just plain must lay around until I build up my energy reserves to be able to do something simple like go to the grocery store alone. Like today I had to lay around until almost 2:00 to be able to go do a fun family thing with Aron and the kids.
So tomorrow I’m going to church at 9 a.m. at Aron's insistence (holy crap!), then we’re driving about an hour away to see Aron’s family (which only happens twice a year … I really want to go so Joel can spend time with his treasured cousins), then later I’m being taken out for ice cream by 2 of my best friends (God bless them).
The NORMAL me would have no problem with this schedule … this would be a light day. The me as of late kind of wants to cry at the prospect of Sunday. And no, I’m not even worried about going into labor an hour from my hospital.
What was my point? Oh, my point is that I’m excited to see Aron’s family (his mom’s family … she’s the oldest of 11 kids). I love his cousins and aunts and uncles. They are nice, down-to-earth people. They will understand if I can’t get up off my butt at all. I love these people! And let’s not forget that my first husband’s family consisted of a bunch of materialistic jackholes. The dad had a some promise, but my biggest accomplishment in his eyes was the year I pulled in $18,000. I don’t make squat writing articles and mothering these days, but I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Tresa versus Callie
I have to shut up about Tresa because I’m starting to sound like I want to be her or something and I’m getting a little creepy. But here’s what happened the other day:
Aron was out of town and I was trying to get the boys ready for their fishing trip with him the very next day. I’d been to the doctor. I was trying to make dinner. I needed some sleep. And a drink. Then Callie starts in on one of her horrific tantrums … she wanted me to take a chair downstairs and I told her to wait and was on the phone with my doula. The screaming and crying and exorcist stuff started when Tresa offered to help her take the chair downstairs instead.
The second Callie started in, Tresa grabbed her and took her to her room, explaining how “Mommy’s making dinner and we’re not going to act this way right now.”
I was shocked.
In a great way.
How many people are you good enough friends with who would do that for you? I hope Ellen and Eva read this and know they have my total permission to do the same. Just watch out: Cal’s a real kicker and flailer.
Callie was not hurt. She was not yelled at. She was SERVED.
Aron was out of town and I was trying to get the boys ready for their fishing trip with him the very next day. I’d been to the doctor. I was trying to make dinner. I needed some sleep. And a drink. Then Callie starts in on one of her horrific tantrums … she wanted me to take a chair downstairs and I told her to wait and was on the phone with my doula. The screaming and crying and exorcist stuff started when Tresa offered to help her take the chair downstairs instead.
The second Callie started in, Tresa grabbed her and took her to her room, explaining how “Mommy’s making dinner and we’re not going to act this way right now.”
I was shocked.
In a great way.
How many people are you good enough friends with who would do that for you? I hope Ellen and Eva read this and know they have my total permission to do the same. Just watch out: Cal’s a real kicker and flailer.
Callie was not hurt. She was not yelled at. She was SERVED.
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