Skip to main content

My Poor Husband

I'm sure he's wondering who the hell this bitch is that took over his wife's body because holy hell, am I in full on bitch mode. Not at him mind you. Just at life.

So the boy is on the new med, Concerta. We decided to up the Melatonin to half a tablet instead of a quarter because the Concerta has him all jacked up until after 10pm. Yeah, I can't have that.

Holy shit it took me, literally, a full two minutes to type that sentence. It's like I have forgotten how to use my goddamn fingers. WTF? Now I'm crying.

Someone who has had at least three kids, please tell me that this is normal. That all thrice preggo women go through this. I know it's most likely the stress of the boy and trying new things to control his outbursts and shit but holy hell. I would punch myself in the face if I ran into myself.

How the hell am I going to handle three of them?? I'm gonna eff them up aren't I? I can't keep my emotions bottled up, shit, that'll kill me. I'd crack in less than a day. How the hell am I supposed to let these things out? I don't want to scream at my kids. I don't want to tell them to please just shut up talking and go to sleep for the love of all things holy. I don't want to give in to the whining and bitching just for the sake of silence and yet, I don't want to listen to the bitching when I do stand my ground.

Oh. My. God. I just had visions of middle school

Shoot me now. Please.

**Part two of the 10x10 will come tomorrow barring my children killing me and throwing me in the wood stove.**

Comments

Very Mary said…
Yeah. Um, so at my house? We kind of have this thing where I say, "SSSSSSSHHHHHHHHH" and then, if that doesn't work? I'm all "PLEASE GO TO YOUR ROOM AND BE LOUD THERE." and then I add "AND SHUT YOUR DOOR!" and then I go to my quiet place (usually involving the iPod and another closed door) and all is right with the world for about 15 minutes. Here's what I think: kids need to know that parents need quiet time. It's not effin' them up, it's teaching them a valuable lesson about respect. And that's not even meant to be funny.

Popular posts from this blog

This Has To Be Said

I haven't blogged in 8 months. We bought a house, still unpacking, school started. You know, life. I felt the need, the urgent need to blog about the Adrian Peterson situation today. I am full of all sorts of feelings and had to write about it. I would love to hear your thoughts on this whole thing. No really, I would. I don't feel I was a douchebag in my writing so all I ask is you not be a douchebag in your response. Thanks. My thoughts on the Adrian Peterson situation (but first, some backstory): I was spanked as a child. I'm pretty sure most of us that grew up in the 80s were. Until the summer between 5th and 6th grade I lived in Charelston, SC and from 6th to 11th grade, North Chicaco, IL. I have seen every form of discipline doled out on a child. I've seen spankings, beatings, hairbrushes smacked into heads, spoons hitting the tops of heads, whips, belts and even switches. I've seen it all. Most of you know that my son is named after a little boy who

This, That and The Other

I can already tell that Thanksgiving and Christmas are going to suck ass even more than it normally would at my job. Last night, a guy was telling me how much he gave me, how much he was supposed to get back and THEN told me what order to give it back to him in. Um? Sir? I'm not a twit, ok, I am a twit, but I'm not an idiot. Ok, sometimes I can be. Like that time I moved up to Wisconsin in the middle of a blizzard from nice, warm Tucson, AZ for a dumb boy and we broke up less than two months later. Yeah that sucked but my point is: I've been in retail, just about every job one could have except store manager, for about oh, 19 years. I think I know what I'm doing when it comes to giving change back. Don't talk to me like I'm a 16 yr old kid who's working his first job and doesn't give a shit what kind of work ethic he has. I care about you as a customer but when you're a dick to me and pissing off everyone in my line so they are dicks to me ? Well,

Get Your Motor Running

Something fabulous happened this week. Glorious even. Spectacular. Heaven Sent. (ok that one may be stretching it a bit). I am no longer a stay at home mom with the potential to go crazy because I can't get out of the house with the kids until the husband comes home from work and that could be 1pm or 6pm, it's a crapshoot. My husband has to drive all over the Twin Cities and the surrounding areas to see his customers for work. We have a gas guzzling Explorer that I love (minus the whole gas guzzling part of course). He's put a couple thousand (maybe three or four) on that thing since starting his job in Nov. I was griping to my therapist about how I feel trapped at home. I'm not me anymore. I don't know what I like anymore if it doesn't involve one of the kids. I hated that this was happening. Wow, I sure do go on tangents. (My ex once told me that he has to run mentally to keep up with me conversationally. So true) Last week, we up and got ourselves this bad b