It's clearly summertime around these parts. I know this not because of the record temperatures outside, not because of the chirping birds, not because of the many lawnmowers and weed whackers working overtime. I know it is summertime because I have two children up my ass every second of every day. Not only do I have two children lodged so far up my ass it hurts to sit down, but add to the mix the asshole attitude of a three-year-old and a total bitch of an 11-year-old.
As if dealing with toddler temper tantrums that suddenly appeared out of nowhere wasn't enough to send me to the nearest padded room with a lock that is on the inside of the room, I am now being tortured by the dramatics that is "the pre-teen." I can honestly say that I am defeated this morning. I know in my heart of hearts that the best thing to do is rip her entire day of friends and pool and fun away from her for the 1,402,284 eye roll I've gotten this week or 3,203 foot stomp I've received, but I have to be honest with you and say that if I have to look at her face for one more goddamn second, I'm going to rip it off of her body in a screaming fit of rage. Yes, that is probably way more dramatic than I should feel, but it is where I stand right now. I don't want to look at her, hear her, listen to her breathe. It is that bad.
I'm barely clinging onto sanity with the toddler meltdowns, and I don't know where to turn in regards to this latest turn of events. I can't take away the goddamn skateboarding lessons because I'll be damned if I'm going to waste the cash I already spent on it. She is going to her father's house next week for the entire week so you see how in between fits of rage I'm having boughts of sadness of her leaving me for a week, although secretly I know it's going to be an amazingly quiet week no matter how shitty the little one is acting, and if we're being totally honest, I don't want to listen the screams and cries of taking the fun day away from her even if I know it's the "right" thing to do in the long run. I know that it certainly won't end well if I go down that road today; maybe tomorrow but today would be a very, very bad idea.
I don't know at this point which end is up, and I wish I wasn't such an impatient person, but I am who I am and these kids better learn a little bit faster the art of fear because I can tell you that the nutjob that lives inside my head is not anything that will want to be witness to.
*cheers my friends*
You can also find me at Confessions of a Truu Mom
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Sibling Bickering
My kids are assholes. Oh, don't gasp at me. If your kid hasn't been an asshole yet, it won't be long now, and I'll still be here when you want to come and tell me how you get it now.
I know I am not the first and surely not the last mother to want to have their ears ripped off when they hear the first tines of bickering, but for the love-a, why must you start at 8:00 a.m. I shall remind you all that school is still IN session. Summer vacation hasn't even started yet.
It started while I was hiding in the shower (you all remember how I told you I hid in the shower right) and I heard the rumblings going on in the living room. I started to hum to myself to drown out the incessant annoying sounds. That didn't work naturally as it's like the little assholes just knew I was trying to drown them out and they got increasingly louder with each passing second. I told myself out loud I will not freak out, I will not freak out.
I am proud to say that I only semi-freaked out. I get out of the shower and I watch them in action. The older one who is 11 is suddenly so interested in Matchbox cars and trains and just MUST have them in her hands to play with. Yeah, suddenly interested my ass because you all know where this is going. It then proceeds to the whining of the boy who is 3 trying to grab them from her sister's hands yelling, "MINE" which is causing my left eye to twitch. I fear this is the moment it will twitch for a lifetime.
I do not get, and I won't ever understand why the oldest is antagonizing the youngest. Honestly, I cannot for the life of me wrap my morning brain around this stupidity. I've told her hundreds of times that the goal of the day is to not get yourself in trouble. I mean I'm teetering over here. On one hand, she's 11 years old and is old enough to know what she is doing and old enough to know to cut that shit out. On the other hand, I hate that the boy is talking to her like that, screaming and yelling at her because we shouldn't be treating anyone like that, especially the sister. On the other, other hand what I really want him to do is whack the shit out of her and maybe she'll cut it out. Oh, gasp away, it'll happen to you too. That whacking will inevitably happen and I'll have to do the mommy right-thing duty and scold him for that, but I mean come on.
So instead of losing my shit all over the place I simply told the girl that she would not be coming with us to drop the boy off at school. Instead, she will be taking the bus and how sad for her as this is the boy's last day at school so she'll have to miss it. I mean what else am I supposed to do other than make sure there are consequences. Of course, this leaves me pissed off at myself because what am I supposed to do about the boy and his yelling at her, and then I figure screw it. If she doesn't antagonize him, he won't be yelling at her. She's old enough to know better.
For now I'm just left singing that lovely song by Dennis Leary. You know the one I'm talking about. Sing along with me...
*cheers my friends*
Find me at Confessions of a Truu Mom
I know I am not the first and surely not the last mother to want to have their ears ripped off when they hear the first tines of bickering, but for the love-a, why must you start at 8:00 a.m. I shall remind you all that school is still IN session. Summer vacation hasn't even started yet.
It started while I was hiding in the shower (you all remember how I told you I hid in the shower right) and I heard the rumblings going on in the living room. I started to hum to myself to drown out the incessant annoying sounds. That didn't work naturally as it's like the little assholes just knew I was trying to drown them out and they got increasingly louder with each passing second. I told myself out loud I will not freak out, I will not freak out.
I am proud to say that I only semi-freaked out. I get out of the shower and I watch them in action. The older one who is 11 is suddenly so interested in Matchbox cars and trains and just MUST have them in her hands to play with. Yeah, suddenly interested my ass because you all know where this is going. It then proceeds to the whining of the boy who is 3 trying to grab them from her sister's hands yelling, "MINE" which is causing my left eye to twitch. I fear this is the moment it will twitch for a lifetime.
I do not get, and I won't ever understand why the oldest is antagonizing the youngest. Honestly, I cannot for the life of me wrap my morning brain around this stupidity. I've told her hundreds of times that the goal of the day is to not get yourself in trouble. I mean I'm teetering over here. On one hand, she's 11 years old and is old enough to know what she is doing and old enough to know to cut that shit out. On the other hand, I hate that the boy is talking to her like that, screaming and yelling at her because we shouldn't be treating anyone like that, especially the sister. On the other, other hand what I really want him to do is whack the shit out of her and maybe she'll cut it out. Oh, gasp away, it'll happen to you too. That whacking will inevitably happen and I'll have to do the mommy right-thing duty and scold him for that, but I mean come on.
So instead of losing my shit all over the place I simply told the girl that she would not be coming with us to drop the boy off at school. Instead, she will be taking the bus and how sad for her as this is the boy's last day at school so she'll have to miss it. I mean what else am I supposed to do other than make sure there are consequences. Of course, this leaves me pissed off at myself because what am I supposed to do about the boy and his yelling at her, and then I figure screw it. If she doesn't antagonize him, he won't be yelling at her. She's old enough to know better.
For now I'm just left singing that lovely song by Dennis Leary. You know the one I'm talking about. Sing along with me...
*cheers my friends*
Find me at Confessions of a Truu Mom
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