This has not been a great evening. I see now this started building earlier in the day, about 1 p.m.
I had dozed off, and hardly been asleep for 20 minutes when my son said he wanted me to get him something.
Not long after I picked my daughter up from school, I settled in on the couch with a book. I started getting drowsy. I thought, "I may just take a little nap." No sooner had this thought crossed my mind, than my children started playing a little game I like to call "Mommy, Get Me."
"Mommy? Can you fix me some tea?" my daughter asked.
"Mommy? Can you make some lemonade?" asked my son.
So it began. No sooner than I would hit that drowsy point, one of them HAD to have something. Right now. Help loading a movie. Help in the bathroom. Help with a snack. Didn't matter that I would soon make dinner, they had to have those friggin' snacks RIGHT NOW.
And if it wasn't a child interrupting me, it was the phone.
After about an hour and a half of this, I gave up. But they didn't.
My daughter was bitten by an insect and needed my assistance. My son HAD to tell me a 10 minute convuluted story that had no point.
They were sufficiently snacked up and distracted, so I fixed a plate of leftovers. However, I was caught in the act and my son demanded one too.
I sit down to eat, and then my daughter ever-so-conviently comes in the kitchen, and asks for a plate too. AFTER I'd already put everything away. At some point, I just gave up, and left my dinner to get cold on the table.
I'm just so done. I want time to myself. I'm so sick of picking up their messes, walking behind them and straightening up whatever they've deigned themselves to mess up. Couch cushions, cups in the living room. I just want them to go to bed and leave me alone.
I want to take a drive. By myself. I want to leave them here with someone and just go for a while. But I can't.
I'm angry, grouchy, put-upon and resentful. This is one of those days I have ceased finding things to be a blessing, and more of a bother.
Who are these kids and why are they calling me mom? And why the fuck can't they do anything for themselves?
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Friday, April 9, 2010
A Blogpodge!
This week, I actually have a lot to say, so this is going to be a hodgepodge! A blog hodgepodge! A blogpodge, if you will!
Ok. Glad that’s over. Still with me?
So there was a family function at my daughter’s school last night, and the kids and I went. We had a good time. But there was one moment that stuck with me. We went to a presentation that only a few people attended. I looked to the left of me, and there was a couple. I looked to the right of me. Another couple. And there I was.
Alone.
It hit me that that is what a single mom feels like, every day. I may have to deal with the ups and downs of being a single mother while my husband is out working his long-distance job, but I least I have a vague deadline of when this will all be over. Most single mothers do not have the luxury of having an end in sight.
It doesn’t make my job any easier, but it makes it slightly more bearable. I guess what I’m trying to say is I really sympathize with all you single moms. Thanks for doing what you do.
**************************************************************
This also reminds me of the old saw about parents having to sacrifice for their children. That had never truly hit home for me until this past year. True, if we didn’t have kids, the hubs and I would get to do more in the way of entertainment. We would probably settle for a lot less as well, and not worry so much about our living arrangements and the like.
But that’s not really sacrifice. We’ve learned sacrifice the hard way this year. Sacrifice is having your daughter cry for her daddy when he’s not there, because he’s out trying to make our lives a little better than last year.
Sacrifice is the hubs not seeing the kids for weeks at a time, and usually not even getting to hear their voices, because they don’t like talking on the phone. They love daddy, but the phone is just an annoyance to them.
Sacrifice is wearing contacts for 6-8 months longer than you should, when they are supposed to be replaced monthly. Enduring stabbing eye pains and hoping you don’t end up causing yourself to go blind. Then finding out you’ve basically caused yourself to have an allergic reaction to the contacts, all because you couldn’t afford a new set, or even a pair of glasses.
Sacrifice is saving cans and going without haircuts, so you can buy your children consignment store clothing and shoes.
I could go on, but it’s really not necessary. Sacrifice. Check. I’ve learned it.
***************************************************************
On to more fun things:
This morning, as my son awoke, he said in his half-stupor, “My umbrella is a clarinet instrument.”
That right there is funny, people.
**************************************************************
My cats like to catch frogs, and even more so, they like to show them off. Every morning I leave the house, only to find a frog corpse on my front porch or sidewalk. I’m actually finding it quite amusing.
I kick them off to the side, and have a little collection of dead frogs in what would be my flower bed if I’d muster the energy to plant flowers. It makes me wonder what any visitors would think (if I ever had a visitor). Would they consider me a voodoo queen? Oh, if they only knew what strangeness lurks in the heart of a person…. bwah ha ha ha ha!
Ok. Glad that’s over. Still with me?
So there was a family function at my daughter’s school last night, and the kids and I went. We had a good time. But there was one moment that stuck with me. We went to a presentation that only a few people attended. I looked to the left of me, and there was a couple. I looked to the right of me. Another couple. And there I was.
Alone.
It hit me that that is what a single mom feels like, every day. I may have to deal with the ups and downs of being a single mother while my husband is out working his long-distance job, but I least I have a vague deadline of when this will all be over. Most single mothers do not have the luxury of having an end in sight.
It doesn’t make my job any easier, but it makes it slightly more bearable. I guess what I’m trying to say is I really sympathize with all you single moms. Thanks for doing what you do.
**************************************************************
This also reminds me of the old saw about parents having to sacrifice for their children. That had never truly hit home for me until this past year. True, if we didn’t have kids, the hubs and I would get to do more in the way of entertainment. We would probably settle for a lot less as well, and not worry so much about our living arrangements and the like.
But that’s not really sacrifice. We’ve learned sacrifice the hard way this year. Sacrifice is having your daughter cry for her daddy when he’s not there, because he’s out trying to make our lives a little better than last year.
Sacrifice is the hubs not seeing the kids for weeks at a time, and usually not even getting to hear their voices, because they don’t like talking on the phone. They love daddy, but the phone is just an annoyance to them.
Sacrifice is wearing contacts for 6-8 months longer than you should, when they are supposed to be replaced monthly. Enduring stabbing eye pains and hoping you don’t end up causing yourself to go blind. Then finding out you’ve basically caused yourself to have an allergic reaction to the contacts, all because you couldn’t afford a new set, or even a pair of glasses.
Sacrifice is saving cans and going without haircuts, so you can buy your children consignment store clothing and shoes.
I could go on, but it’s really not necessary. Sacrifice. Check. I’ve learned it.
***************************************************************
On to more fun things:
This morning, as my son awoke, he said in his half-stupor, “My umbrella is a clarinet instrument.”
That right there is funny, people.
**************************************************************
My cats like to catch frogs, and even more so, they like to show them off. Every morning I leave the house, only to find a frog corpse on my front porch or sidewalk. I’m actually finding it quite amusing.
I kick them off to the side, and have a little collection of dead frogs in what would be my flower bed if I’d muster the energy to plant flowers. It makes me wonder what any visitors would think (if I ever had a visitor). Would they consider me a voodoo queen? Oh, if they only knew what strangeness lurks in the heart of a person…. bwah ha ha ha ha!
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