oprah, seriously...

Heres what I hate. Grade 1. I know I am supposed to love it. All the parents tell me so. I have all day to myself etc.
Except I hate it. I miss my kids when they are at school. And I have time to wonder.
I wonder how they are doing with their new teacher. I wonder why she won't make eye contact with me, why my daughter has anxiety about staying there all day, why my husband asked if we should be making our daughter prettier to fit in better, why I am working so hard and missing my kids so much.
Ugh. Is there such thing as post kindergarten depression, because I think I have it. I am living in the past I guess. I miss the time that the 3 of us had together and the freedom we had. I miss long car rides to make them nap and sippy cups (yes! sippy cups!) I miss my babes.
I don't want to set them loose in full time school yet. I'm not ready.
I cried all day. Fuck.
I feel guilty about working. I've started buying lottery tickets.
I have to use a highlighter pen to keep everyone on track with soccer, daycare, mommy time, daddy time, nana time, homework time, reading time, t.v. time, computer time, dinner time, time for me, time for us, time for work, time for planning, time to avoid the things I must do but don't want to (such as this post)
Oprah keeps pointing out all the things that are wrong in my life. I have to stop with Oprah. She is making my post k depression worse. Live your own best life Opes, mines too facking busy to make little cards that I have to put in sections that I have to then read and throw away...or keep...or something.
Are my kids going to be scarred forever because I work evenings and hardly ever get to kiss them before bed even though they have a really good daddy that does? Probably not. I might be.

I am just so pleased at the role model I am turning out to be for my girls. They are going to know exactly how to clean a house. over and over and over and over. Then, on the weekend, maybe their complete asshole husbands can come home and start digging through drawers and closets finding messes to point out and have to clean immediatly. God for fucking bid I should have one day of the week where I don't have to clean or be reminded of what a shit job I do. Nevermind that my children rarely get time with me in the week as I am too busy trying to make our house clean enough. He will show me how to do it because, apparently, I am a complete retard. Why is there 5 pens in the closet? I DON'T FUCKING KNOW WHY. Why do we have an empty box under the bed (asked while trashing around and kicking crap across the floor)? Gee, I guess when I was done doing ALL of the christmas shopping, wrapping, cooking, baking, cleaning, entertaining his family and sending the cards I just SO STUPIDLY forgot that box. WHAT kind of mother and wife am I?
It is sad and sick that I have to take things that are important to me and rat them away so he won't find them and throw them out. Photos, baby books, the picture I made when I was little - just throw it out so our life isn't so cluttered Mr. DumbFuck.
GGGGGGGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR...post holiday PMS.

my stupid neighbour

she is so irritatingly stupid the vast majority of time. does she think that when she says things like "gee, you are SO patient" when my kids are whining down the house, that i believe she is paying me a compliment. nothing like a badhanded compliment to piss me off. patient equals completely ineffective. i get it.
i am not too sure why the people in my life feel they get to weigh in on my mothering skills, or lack thereof. i am not too sure why i haven't been more effective in letting them know that i am doing just fine and my kids are learning the things i think are important. guess i am ineffective. but they are my kids to screw up and if i wanted an opinion on how i am doing i would seek that out. i really try hard to not judge what is happening with others parenting. its a hard job and mommies need to stick together. but in a true way. not this, i am better than you, bullshitty way.

good day sunshine

Well what the fuck?
Can today start out worse? I think not!
The fire alarm went off first thing. My husband is running around like a jack-ass and because he's being a jack ass, it just keeps going off. So up I get to discover that the fire is raging in the woodstove. And by raging, I mean the black cast iron (or whatever) is nearly glowing red. I can't get within 10 feet of it. He's wondering why the smoke alarm is going off? Jack Arse.
So as I am standing there fanning the smoke detector with a pair of his dirty underwear I conveniently found right on the floor, my daughter starts screaming I PEED ALL OVER MY BED AND FLOOR WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
I can't see anything because I fell asleep last night with my contacts in and the heat from the fire has fused the dried out little discs to my half-shut lids.

I suddenly flash back to 1990.
I was going to live in New York and be a famous photographer.
I was going to live my life differently than everybody else.

At no point was I going to fan a smoke detector with a pair of dirty ginch, in my house on the cul-de-sac, with toddlers screaming about bodily functions, and a husband who refuses to cut me some kindling (whole 'nother story)

I also had no plans of my body looking like this and crying over the fact that nobody respects a SAHM!

Geeesh.

Stupid Cat

Yesterday my asshole of a cat caught a bird and proudly brought it to me on the back deck much to the horror of my 3 year olds. One of my daughters screams NOW IT'S DEAD which shocks me because I didn't even know she knew that word. The t.v. is not raising them nearly as well as I had hoped. So I try to usher them inside and, as they are going, my other daughter is asking "why he deaded it?" So seconds before I open my mouth I realize how horribly ill-prepared I am for this conversation. Even I was surprised to find out what I was going to say. So I launch into this whole thing about the spring and the autumn and the leaves and the sun and the earth and the deer and the snow and they are just staring at me blankly. Just staring. No expressions at all. So to clarify, I explain about the birds and the bees and the gravitational pull of the moon. They just walk away and one daughter says to the other "maybe she'll put it in the nest and it will fly away soon"
During this conversation I have also had the smoke alarm go off only to find I have inadvertently turned to stove on to high while trying to scoop up the bird. The pizza box from the night before is still on the stove of course, so it is fully engulfed in flames. I managed to save two pieces of the pizza (thank god) after I threw water on the box. I am just putting out fires left and right!

annoyed by it all

my three year old saying over and over, and yes, over again that she "has an ouchie" It's a travelling ouchie which no medicine can touch. It's an annoying ouchie to which I really want to reply "you want an ouchie? I'll give you an ouchie" But that's just wrong.
My husband who needs to go back to work soon before I hurt him. He's on strike right now and I am ready to drive my station wagon at full speed through the picket line, straight to his classroom, drop him off and back up over all the whining strikers.
my friend (and I use the term incredibly loosely) who is also on strike but keeps saying things like "ya, well the if we are breaking the law then the government should just remember that that black lady sat on the wrong side of the bus and she broke the law too." This is what my children have to look forward to in the public school system? what the fuck? I feel like grabbing her chubby cheeks in my hands and screaming in her face.
cheerios. for exisiting. all over my floor. again.
I guess thats all for now.

climb off

I a getting pretty damn sick of being responsible for the entire household's mood. My every facial expression is being watched in case I make some sort of face that needs addressing by my husband. If I wake up and don't act happy! happy! happy! then all bets are off for the day, and everyone is allowed to be a total wanker. Sometimes it is just easier to be Stepford. Weep quietly in the hankie.