After finding those stretch marks yesterday, I took a good hard look at my body this morning after my bath, and I realized something.

Thanks to childbirth and gravity, I would make one helluva double-sided human clipboard.

And no, I didn’t ask the doc on Wednesday. Not really a chance to. Had the fastest ultrasound of my life (yep, still a boy), and then the doc blew in to tell me everything is fine with MB5 (he’s a pound now). It wasn’t my usual doc, so I wasn’t about to tell him shit.

I feel so much better now that the boys are back in school and I am back to my old routine. I will mention it to my normal doc next time though. But it might be more of advice-seeking than anything. Maybe he can refer me to someone after I have the baby. That’d be best. From what I’ve read and heard from others, this may very well be hormone related like I suspected awhile back. Would need to have this kiddo before they could test me or fix me anyway, so … I wait.

I did get some migraine pills though. Makes a world of difference in my mood right there. No more living in fear of the headache monster. Really bites ass to live that way.

Barney. Teletubbies. Calliou. Blues Clues. Dragon Tales. Dora.

I don’t like these shows. I don’t like hearing the music. I don’t like that my kids love to watch them. But I let them. My kids love them, so I let them.

Today Blues Clues was supposed to come on, and MG started pitching a fit when some ugly ass creatures filled the screen instead. But within seconds, she was mesmerized. I was mortified.

I don’t know who they are or where they come from or why they are now hoggin up Joe’s time, but these fuckers have got to go.

It doesn’t feel like Friday.

Bus drivers who are 147 years old and cranky as a fucking bear should not still be carting young rowdy kids around. Thank gawd the kids were given new routes, that old blind coot terrified them.

Tar should be outlawed. It’s been how many weeks since the road was finished, and the kids still can’t go out to play without getting that shit on their shoes. It’s now in my house, my van, and all over their clothes. That shit never dries, does it?

Sometimes, when it’s too quiet upstairs, the kids really are just playing nicely.

How does it go? You should quit when you’re ahead? After the first 4 kiddos, my body snapped back rather nicely, aside from my boobs. After MG, my belly button muscle gave way and I have now am stuck with a semi-outtie for the rest of my life. I noticed last night that finally, on my 6th child, I have my first stretch marks. Wasn’t something I was pleased to see. Not at all. Fucking figures.

I’ve been carrying around a $5 check for almost 3 weeks now. Thanks to direct deposit, BillPay, and debit machines at the grocery store – I rarely have to journey to the bank. A $5 check just doesn’t seem worth the trip.

Learned a lesson about patience from my dad this week. When your puter starts to wonk out on you, don’t just run out and spend 2K on a new one. When problem turns out to be a $3 battery for your motherboard, you get the urge to blow your head off.

I need to learn more about hardware.

I can smell fall, and it excites me.

Spent my day yesterday dumping and re-installing shit on a friend’s computer. Took 3 hours to get that bitch running again. Probably because I am not a hardware guru. Not at all.

Now I have my dad’s old tower in front of me. He’s already bought a new computer, but he would rather have the old one back. Don’t ask me, he’s … different like that. Maybe he’ll send the new one my way real cheap if I can fix this one. Maybe I shouldn’t worry about it since I can’t seem to fix it.

I got the OS to load – finally. But it doesn’t ’seem’ right still. Still herky jerky and throwing out errors right and left. Wants to load in safe mode half the time. I just don’t know this shit. I think it’d take if I wiped out the old shit first, but I can’t get the computer to read the A drive in DOS. DOS is not my friend anyway.

I went into the BIOS, to make sure it was set up in the right order to boot, and it doesn’t even look like A drive is installed. But it is in Windows. Works fine. I don’t fucking get it. Not at all.

So now I am offline again for the day to plug his back in and try something else.

Might try a hammer this time.

I used to manage an inline restaurant in downtown Tampa. An old 3story building with a fast food joint smushed into it. My customers were business men and business women. And bums. Lots and lots of bums.

Coffee refills were free back then. Mr Homeless Man would buy a cup at 7am and wander in and out filling it back up until I closed the doors for the day at 3pm.

I didn’t mind. I happen to think Mr Homeless Man could be any one of us – given a certain sequence of events. I took care of them the best I could. They would keep me current on the upcoming special events that might warrant staying open later or perhaps opening up for a weekend. Or maybe they had news of another restaurant’s sale that might encourage me to drop my prices for a few days. They’d clue me in to the thieves. They’d retrieve my sales posting street tent when others would cart it away. I was very fond of my bums.

I met Lester when he was sitting in front of my store when I showed up one morning. It was still 2 hours before we opened for the day, and I had never seen him around before. To see a man sitting there in the dark on a deserted street in Tampa makes your heart race. When he saw me, he jumped up and I thought I might pass out from fear. Turns out he was offering his hand. He was Lester, ma’am, and he was looking for a job.

He came in and we talked. He walked out of there that day with a job, several uniforms, and some petty cash. It was enough for a haircut, a pair of shoes, toiletries, and a couple night’s stay at the ‘better’ shelter where he could grab a shower. He was to be at work the next day at 7am. I was referred to as the fool for the rest of the day.

7am came and went. By 7:20, I started to accept the truth and deal with snickers. I wasn’t pissed, I was disappointed.

Lester came running in at 7:30. Literally. Although no one knew it was Lester at first. I had given a bum a job the day before – the man who came to work that job was no bum. He was a handsome, clean shaven, freshly cut, showered man ready to work his ever loving ass off for me.

He hadn’t been able to get a haircut the day before – he was told he had to shower first, so he had to wait until the morning. The barber had promised to meet him at 6am, but didn’t show till 6:45. He came to work right after. He was never late again.

I’ve never had a better worker. Never. I gave him all the extra hours I could, and slipped in a raise after the first week. I had given him another ‘advance’ so he could remain at the shelter with access to showers. I had to – his first paycheck would take a few weeks. Again, I was called a fool. But when his first check did come, he began to pay me back. He also began looking for a place to live.

My assistant scouted around and found him a one room apartment close to work. Was a flea bag dump that he was to pay rent on weekly, but he didn’t seem to mind. Was better than the shelter. My crew brought in clothes, shoes, towels, sheets, blankets, dishes, pots, pans, furniture – you name it. My assistant brought him a tv, and it was almost painful to witness the appreciation in his eyes.

Thanksgiving came, and I asked him where he would spend it. I was told that the shelters had a great dinner that day, and that he’d be ok. That was not ok with me. I told him to be ready at 8am, and that my husband would be there to pick him up.

MD thought I had lost my marbles. He wondered if I was endangering our kids. He eventually gave up, shook his head at me, and gave me that that you’re a trusting fool smile.

Lester spent the day with us. He had bought some new clothes for the occasion. My kids adored him. He helped out with dinner, and never once did the atmosphere grow uncomfortable. Was a pleasant day. Was also a nice reminder of what we had to be thankful for.

Four months went by, and we really got to know Lester. He was not always homeless. He once had a good job, a family, a life. A good life. Then his wife left him, took his children away, and the economy snuck in and stole his job. He left work that day, started walking, and hitched a ride out of town. He hadn’t been back since. He missed his kids. He was finally ready to leave the pity party and get his life back. He wanted to save enough to go back home and start over.

He was doing just that. He was making pretty good money by then. Enough to pay me back completely, and to buy his own household items and return the loaned ones to my employees. He ordered cable. He was looking at cars. I was thrilled for him.

Then one day he just never showed up. It was a payday. I held on to his check for 3 months before returning it to corporate. I never knew what happened to him. His apartment still held his things. His friends had no idea where he was. I waited every day for some word from him. Nothing ever came.

I hope that Lester made his way back to his children. I hope that he just got up one day, and let the wind carry him home like it had carried him away. I hope that he got his life back.

I hope I wasn’t just a fucking fool.

Captain Caveman.

Now yell it like you’re s’posed to.

Technical difficulties have been resolved.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled program.

Email accounts organized. Files/Folders cleaned out. Puter maintenance done. Car repairs/services done. Van is immaculate. Dressers are organized. Winter clothes are ready and waiting. Rooms were cleaned and rearranged. Big ass breakfast cooked every day at 5am for MB1 and again at 6am for the other kiddos. Laundry was done every morning by 7am. House was completely cleaned by 8am every day.

I was so fucking bored without my Nancy and my sites.

Nope, you should never work with a friend. Never. Finished up her site, sent the invoice to her, and her partner will not stop emailing me several times a day with problems that I cannot solve. They are support issues for the software they purchased. I have created the tickets for them up to now, but I’m about to piss them off with a no more email. If they’d like my help, then I will re-open their invoice. It’s that simple. I already negotiated with them on the final total as it is. One partner didn’t realize that the other partner had made so many changes which racked up that many hours. And I didn’t charge for phone calls to either them, although it’s long distance. I didn’t charge for any support issues at all.

Never again.

Still keeping the soldiers and their families in my thoughts.

School is on for today. MB1 is already at football practice, and I’m enjoying MB2 and MB3’s excitement. They were ready to go back. I was ready too.

We weren’t going to have MG’s party until Saturday, but the boys couldn’t wait that long for her to open her presents. She had a ball. I’ve never heard more gasps and squeals out of a child. 2yo girls are a treat indeed. We got her a little cheapo kitchen set, and she went started ‘cooking’ immediately. I wondered if she might be too young for it. Guess not. Was a good day.

I’ve already started on my second load of laundry this morning. House is picked up from last night. About to fire up the griddle and shock my cereal loving children with some sausage and eggs and pancakes. My head feels much better this morning. Much better. Maybe I do just need to feel useful.

I know I’ve been pregnant many many times, but still amazes me. Not the fact that I’m having another child, but that my body is growing a human.

I love living in this town, but sometimes I wonder if these people are capable of doing anything intelligently. School issues aside, their little family owned construction company might have the collective IQ of a clump of clay.

It took them months to do our street. Wouldn’t have, if they didn’t have to redo things every few days. They forgot those little expansion strips at one point. Those are sort of fucking important, dontcha think?

Now they’ve been hired to redo the sewer system in town. Some lady two streets over woke this morning to find two feet of raw sewage in her basement. She’s not too pleased, and I don’t blame her.

Cleatus and Bobby Ray might be in over their heads on this one.

Back home for the day. It’s been a long week. Starting to feel a little better, and that could be a bad thing. If I’m not still feeling shitty next Wednesday, I know I will chicken out and not mention shit to the doc. Then the winds will change the next day, and I’ll be out of whack again. I wish MD could go with me to force me to ask him. Even if I get up my guts, my tongue will grow about 3 sizes when I start to speak, and I won’t be able to spit it out. Then I’ll say never mind and run out of there. Happened too many times before.

Or worse, I’ll get out half of it. I’ll be able to mention the word depressed, and he’ll shove a script for Prozac in my hand. It won’t do a damn thing for me. Telling him about the ‘down’ times is easy. It’s telling him about the dragon days that’s harder than shit.

How do you tell someone that you lose your noodle every so often without them locking you up? That you break a stack of plates just because it feels good to do so when someone irks you. That you really don’t mind the dragon, because of how fucking powerful and untouchable you feel. That you don’t give a shit what anyone thinks during those times – you’re gonna do and say whatever the hell you want. That you feel like Superman with that shit raging through your system. That it’s caused you to almost lose your marriage at one point. That you don’t remember much about it when it takes over, just that you make a mess of things.

I have to mention both parts of the cycle for him to really help me, I know that. I just don’t know if I can do it.

My MG Bear is two today. Time slips by way too fast.
(more…)

Finished up school shopping today. Shoes were the main focus of today’s adventure. Usually I head down to Payless and scoop up three pairs for $50. Today, I decided that my boys needed are getting older, and those generic shoes aren’t going to cut it anymore. I bought three pairs – on sale – and still spent $120. Had they not been on sale, you can double that amount. Fuck people – they’re shoes. Shoes, ya know? The things kids wear for two months before either growing out of them or tearing them up?

I want them to have cool clothes. I do. Just might have to sell my body to do it.

School has been canceled for tomorrow due to the heat. First day of school has been canceled.

Pssstttt……air conditioning

Morons

For those not aware, it gets hot here in Missouri. It gets very fucking hot. So hot, that no amount of a/c helps. Of course, that’s a lie. You may not feel the a/c, but it is working. It’s allowing you the opportunity to keep from frying. To keep from keeling over in your house. You may not be able to get your house freezing ass cold on a day like today, but you are still a helluva better off inside than out.

I just ran MB3 to his open house. It’s 7pm at night, and it’s still 103 degrees outside. There were 40 gazillion people at the school tonight. 40 gazillion sweaty stinky smelly gummy crabby bitchy people. Why? There’s no a/c in the elementary school. Nope. The office and the library are the only spots that are privileged enough to get the cold air piped in. Everyone else is just ass out. Our children are ass out.

I was in that building exactly 3 minutes before sweat beads formed and rolled down my chest. I could hardly breathe. It hurt to move and to think. I didn’t want to fill out papers and stand in line or chitchat. I wanted to just pass out in a corner gasping for air. I wanted to go home. How can they expect kids to study and learn in that environment? When I asked about it, I was told to get involved and let them know the schools need a/c. Fuck, did someone have to hop on a board and demand bathrooms too? Geezus. I asked if they had heat in the winter, and he giggled at me. I wasn’t joking.

By the time we left – 20 minutes later – every layer of clothing was soaked with sweat. My make up was gone. My temperament wasn’t that great either. I can’t imagine how those kids are going to survive this week. Am I just being bitchy about this one? Shouldn’t a/c be provided for districts whose summers are hotter than shit?

Gee – at least it’s only supposed to be in the 90’s next week.

Fuck you depression. Fuck you and your mama. Fuck you for making me feel like shit right now. Fuck you for causing me to withdrawal from my friends – the very people who could help me out of this. Fuck you for bringing the constant sleepies with you. Fuck you for making me frustrated over stupid shit. Fuck you for making me cry for an hour that I was a failure when my rolls didn’t rise. Fuck you for dropping in at the worst possible time.

And fuck you docs for not being able to figure out what it is that causes this. Fuck you for using me a your medication guinea pig because you didn’t want to take the extra 15-20 minutes to listen – REALLY FUCKING LISTEN - to me tell you what was going on in my body and in my mind. Fuck you for thinking you know it all.

And fuck you society. Fuck you for the guilt and the shame that you caused me by making me feel like a freak for feeling like this. Fuck you for your snap-out-of-it’s. Fuck you for your holier than thou attitude thinking it could never happen to you. Fuck you for droning on about your physical aches and pains and brushing my mental ones aside because it makes you uncomfortable. Fuck you for ignoring me and my little problem because it upsets you.

It fucking upsets me too, in case you haven’t noticed.

Let’s wrap this up …
(more…)

I want to thank everyone for the emails and comments about this shitty mood. I’m ok, and I know exactly why this is happening. It’s not the stress of school starting. Actually, that’s the only thing keeping me semi-sane at this point.

I need that stress. I need to feel useful. Like I am doing something. Like I am needed to help out to get the job done. Ever since that site has been done, I just wander around the house looking for something else to tackle. But after awhile, there isn’t anything left to clean.

I just need school to start so the crazy schedule can begin. So I have something to plan. So I can be the Organizer. Then, I’m sure I will bitch about it, but my head will get better.

At least I won’t be forced to sharpen all the pencils in the house to find something to do.

Cleaning sorting rearranging repeat Cleaning sorting rearranging repeat Cleaning sorting rearranging repeat Cleaning sorting rearranging repeat

That is our weekend so far. Over 105 degrees outside, so we have stayed inside and tore this house apart. Exciting shit.

Boys start school Wednesday. About damn time. Things are about to be real busy around here again. Football practice for MB1 starts tomorrow. Soccer practice for MB2 starts Wednesday.

Think I’m headed for a nice cool bath. I’m ready for fall. Sucks that winter looms at the end of it, but at this point, I don’t give a shit.

Still feeling off lately. Don’t feel much like talking to anyone. Hate it when I get like this. Crabby with the kids. Cold to MD. Don’t call our friends. Just bitchy bitchy overall. The dragon is never far off at times like this. Even the computer holds no interest for me. I know I’m sick then.

At least my house is getting cleaned.

Started on of these awhile ago, but never finished it. Think I will today thanks to Michelle and Nancy…
(more…)

MG’s problem is viral. Meaning no meds. Wonderful. I’m so fucking exhausted I could pass out. After her appt, we hit two stores to find this wacko school supply shit – no luck. Then picked up MB1 from mom’s. Then spent 3 hours at the eye doc. MB1 is officially done with glasses. And for the first time ever, MB2’s eyes improved. No contacts for him yet, but maybe next year. Then home for 20 minutes and on to the middle school for registration. Stood in line for an hour with 5 kids and no a/c to get a packet those bastards could have mailed to me. That was it. Fill it out and the kids bring it back the first week of school. Yeah, fuck you. Then couldn’t you of just handed this shit to them on the first day? No, didn’t think so. That would be too fucking logical. Go kids, meet your teachers. Ok, what teachers? No one is in their room. At least we were able to show MB2 his classrooms. Glad one piece of it was worth it.

MD is working till 9pm. Means that the night routine belongs to me. Running on pure fumes here. I think we’re skipping baths tonight. Fuck it. I’m ordering pizza.

MG’s on again off again fever is back in full force. MD woke me up at 4 – knew I should not have gone to bed at 2 – and we bathed her and gave her some Motrin. 104.7 – I hate that shit. Shivering little thing. She’s finally cooling off now. MD said her glands feel swollen, so it’s probably our old friend mr strep. Lovely. Guess I’m next.

She is feeling better and wide awake. I will have her appt today, and the boys’ eye exams. Open house tonight. Finishing up the school supply shopping somewhere in there as well.

I need some serious serious help getting through today.

I should be in bed, but …
(more…)

If my kids didn’t go to school, I’d be rich. Well, I’d be well off. Now if they didn’t eat….

Got 80% of their school supplies today at the Dollar Store. 80% mind you. Dollar Store. Where shit is 3 for a buck or 50 cents or a dollar. Cheap shit.

Spent $105 dollars there. Checkout took 42 hours.

Then travelled to WalMart for the hard-to-find/what the fuck is that/no mom, the list says Elmer’s glue, not Ross items.

My 6th & 7th graders needed scientific calculators (?). Kids needed Prang watercolors – not Crayola. MB1 needed a quart of glue (?). Add in some Fiskar scissors, some color-coded notebooks, some Expo markers, some Sharpie fine points, and some index cards – and I walked out of there $70 lighter.

Throw in a trip to Office Depot for some mega 4″ binders and some other wierd ass items, and I’m out about $200 total.

Next week – clothes shopping.

There’s a very high price to pay to get those kiddos back in school.

Let’s see if I can shatter a few images…
(more…)

I realize that the grocery store needs to remain cool, but must they set the thermostat to 20 fucking degrees? It’s summer assholes. I am wearing shorts and sandals. I just shaved my legs this morning, and within two minutes of being exposed to your arctic conditions, the goosebumps have now transformed me into Chewbacca.

Thanks a lot pricks.

Reading Michelle’s post today made me realize that I hadn’t checked mine in awhile.

I just don’t understand. Who hatches these people?

Was clicking around catching up on some reading this weekend. I’ve really been avoiding doing that with as shitty as I feel lately. Almost as if I don’t want to drag anyone else down with my blahs. Fucking hate the blahs.

I found this over at Tyme’s. Let’s just say I was floored. First of all, I want to say how incredibly sweet she is. Second, that she gives me way too much fucking credit.

I stopped the stroll after MD got out of the Army. I stopped it because I was too ashamed to continue. If there were demons haunting me from our military life, then the Devil himself chases my ass over the rest.

I hope I haven’t painted this picture perfect image of myself and my marriage, because that would be entirely untrue. We have a strong relationship now. We have finally reached a level of understanding that we’re both comfortable with. But sonofabitch was it a hard place to reach.
(more…)

Was clicking around catching up on some reading this weekend. I’ve really been avoiding doing that with as shitty as I feel lately. Almost as if I don’t want to drag anyone else down with my blahs. Fucking hate the blahs.

I found this over at Tyme’s. Let’s just say I was floored. First of all, I want to say how incredibly sweet she is. Second, that she gives me way too much fucking credit.

I stopped the stroll after MD got out of the Army. I stopped it because I was too ashamed to continue. If there were demons haunting me from our military life, then the Devil himself chases my ass over the rest.

I hope I haven’t painted this picture perfect image of myself and my marriage, because that would be entirely untrue. We have a strong relationship now. We have finally reached a level of understanding that we’re both comfortable with. But sonofabitch was it a hard place to reach.
(more…)

MD went to church with MB3 this morning. Not my cup of tea, but I want him to go if he wants. Other boys didn’t want to go either – which surprised me, but I would never force anyone to do something that I myself don’t feel comfortable doing. We’ll stay here and get brunch ready for them when they return.

This baby will make a fine athlete someday. It’s just too bad I won’t be around to see it after he kicks me to death in a few months. MB1 bruised my ribs, this kiddo may very well break a few. Cannot believe how hard he can kick already with that tiny ass body.

Still feeling like shit overall. Headache will not fucking die. Sinus problems are making me deaf. No appetite at all. Just yuck.

I wish it would rain.

MD is working today. He’s worked late all week. And while the check should kick some serious ass with close to 40 hours of OT, I’d rather have him home.

I’m bored.

My dad’s computer bit it last week. He couldn’t fix it, so he bought a new one. I get his old one to see what I can do with it. If I can get it running, then I have to decide what to do with it.

Do I take the selfish path and finally try to build that server – just to see if I can? Or do I set it up for the kids, so that they can have a decent one for school work? Their current computer is good for use as a shelf, and that’s about it.

Yeah, yeah – I know what I have to do. I just wanted to dream about it for awhile.

Dammit.

Killer headache plans to remove me from this world tonight, I’m sure of it. Cannot shake this fucker.

Started having contractions today. Not painful ones, but still. I battled pre-term labor with my middle three kiddos, and it terrifies me to have any at all. My uterus is very irritable – whatever the hell that means. Even the slightest contractions that stay around for any length of time mean bad news. Got them early with MG too though, and they ebbed off once I increased my daily water. Chugging that shit by the gallon now, so hopefully, this pregnancy will go smoothly like hers did.

Still feeling rather … off. Not really depressed, just off. Quiet. And sleepy. So damn sleepy.

As a member of the itty bitty titty committee, I absolutely adore the voluptuous breasts of pregnancy. I love shopping for bras that require no push, no lift, no help. It’s a glorious thing.

I could, however, do without walking by the mirror and seeing that one of my nipples has runneth over, got squished, and is now pointing due north. Especially when I have no idea how long it’s been this way, nor who I’ve been giving upward directions to while running my errands today.

Think it’s time to go shopping again.

Please tell me that all children are lazy. That all children take the easy way out. Reassure me that it’s not just my kids that insist upon tackling their chores in the shittiest and quickest way possible. I can’t understand this.

I am not a lazy person. The day I give half-ass work is the day someone has permission to shoot my ass. I do things before being asked to, and I always go the extra step to make the job easier for the next person. That’s just who I am.

Yesterday the boys asked for some treats at the store. I already had a cart full of shit to fix them, but agreed only if they would put the groceries away when we got home. Ain’t nothing in life free. They agreed.

I used that time to clean the bathrooms. I heard them flip on the tv, and my mind snapped. There was no way in hell they could have be done already – but they were. I ran down to the kitchen, and was speechless.

The 20+ empty bags were on the floor. Everywhere. I save these bags for other uses. They KNOW this. They KNOW that these bags are placed inside the cabinet. Don’t even ask about the groceries. My mind is still exploding over how shit was shoved everywhere but where it goes.

Yes, I am anal like that. Everything has its place in my kitchen. But fuck, it HAS TO!! I feed 7 people on a daily basis. If I don’t have an organized kitchen, it would take 5 hours to fix a fucking meal. I understand that they are children. I understand that you need to expect children-level work. I did. But this was just plain ass lazy business. They know where shit goes.

I didn’t expect them to rotate all the cabinets and break flaps off of the oatmeal boxes. I didn’t expect them to wipe the fridge shelves before putting anything in there. I didn’t expect them to take the last sleeve out of the existing box of crackers and place it on the new box and throw the old box away. I didn’t expect them to mentally note items we would need on the next trip that were getting low. I know my system is brutal. But c’mon. Cereal does NOT go in a fucking drawer! Especially when there are 9 other boxes in the cereal cabinet!!

No, I’m not insane. It’s not just the groceries. It’s everything. MB1’s job is trash. So why does he leave the soda boxes on the floor? Why can’t he remember to break them down and throw them into the bag before he takes it out? Why can’t he ever replace the bag? Why do I have to remind him each time? I scrub the fucking can and lid every time he empties it, so it’s not like this job is a disgusting one.

They put away their own laundry. Holy shit, you outta see those drawers. I’d be naked if I had to find something to wear with that mess of shit. I always arrange their piles in such a way that all they must do is break up the layers and place the clothes in their respective drawers. Why is this so hard?

Tell them to water the plants outside if they want a friend to stay over. I hop outside later for quiet time, and see about 3 plants that actually received water – and 30 that didn’t. WTF? I don’t think so. Kiddo was back out with a hose in his hand within 5 seconds.

They spend their money, and ask me to loan them some so they can head to the pool. Yeah, you guessed it. Ain’t no loans in this house. You gotta work for your cash. You wanna swim? Fold down these two loads of laundry and you can go. Fuck me. I would have been better off dumping them on the floor and rolling around on them. And then I’m the bad guy for not giving up the money. Fuck that.

I have rewarded them for doing wonderful jobs. I have refused to accept shitty jobs. I have grounded them for lying to me about completing jobs. Nothing works. When will this finally click in their brain? Anyone? Anyone with older children who were once childhood sloths? Why didn’t they get one fucking drop of my work ethic? Does that not get piped into the womb with the other goodies? Geezus.

I know it seems like I ask a lot of my children. But I do not. Maybe that’s the problem. They each have four jobs – cleaning their room is one, the dinner table clean-up is another, putting away their own laundry, and then they each have another job that they do. A tiny job. MB1 takes out the trash, MB3 sweeps the living room for toys at night, and MB2 cooks pancakes on Saturdays. (Which he loves to do anyway) Is that too much? Not enough? Fuck, I was in charge of everydamnthing in our house by the time I was 12. These boys got it made in my eyes. Anything extra that they do is a result of them wanting something from me. That’s not a chore – that’s a trade-off.

I’ll stop now. I could go on forever. I just wish I could find something – anything – that would work to motivate them to care more. I sure as hell hope they give a shit about their work when they get older. I will fucking hunt them down if they don’t.

Hate the month of August. School starts, which is great, but the getting ready for school is a pain in my ass. New glasses. Physicals. Booster shots. Open Houses. School supplies. School clothes. The end of this month will not come soon enough.

My baby turns two this month as well. They grow so fast. I was supposed to be nearing the end of my diaper days about this time, but there’s someone gently reminding me with his kicks and rolls that I have a few more years to go. I can wait.

Life is starting to return to normal around here. Systems and routines back in place after close to two months of me working all day. I like my routines. They help balance me out.

The never-ending get ready for school shit starts today. Doc appts. 5 kids crammed in the waiting room and exam room. What a joy that will be.

I want to know. Really. I want to meet these fucking parents of the little bratty ass motherfuckers that live around here. I want to ram a shovel into their throats.

Kid today knocks on the door and asks if MB2 can go ride bikes with him. I’ve never seen this kid before, but MB2 has talked to him once or twice at school, so I told him ok. Five minutes later, MB1 comes down to head out to ride his bike. Comes back in two seconds later all pissed off that his bike is gone. I look out, and MB2 is riding up and down the sidewalk – alone. Kid is gone.

Turns out this kid meant ‘can I hop on one of your bikes and ride it the fuck away’ when he asked if MB2 could ride with him. Little prick. He didn’t ask MB2 – or MB1 for that matter – he just hopped on. MB2 is so very shy at times, and didn’t say a word to this brat because he thought he just needed a bike to ride around with him. When the kid said he was headed home for a sec, MB2 really thought that meant a second, and waited. I could smash my head into the wall over how sensitive and trusting my children are sometimes. It’s my fault I guess for trying to raise decent kids. They will learn the hard way someday like I did, after getting shit on for being nice to everyone over and over. I just hope it doesn’t make them too fucking nasty and un-trusting – like it did me.

I sent the boys up the alley to get the bike back. 30 minutes later, I am about to get pissed. Boys aren’t back yet, I can’t see them, and I really don’t know where to start looking for them. Then this fucking little shithead about plows me over from behind. While my boys went up the hill after him, he cut back down on the other side and went gawd knows where.

I asked him where my boys were, and he said he didn’t know. Told him they went looking for him to get the bike back, and he said he run on up there and find them for me. As he started to take off – on the bike – I told him no. Told him that he needed to put the bike where he found it, and not touch it again. Told him that he didn’t have permission, that all bikes that belong to this house stay in view of this house, and that if all he was suddenly coming around for was free transportation – then he needed to take his ass home and not come back here again.

He took off pretty quickly after that. Boys came down about 5 minutes later, pretty upset that they didn’t find him. I told them what happened, and MB2 looked devastated. I felt bad thinking that maybe I went too far in my crazed hormonal state, but turns out he was upset that this kid just used him for some wheels. Took a long talk with mama and some chocolate chip cookies to erase that sadness.

That little fucknut better hope to gawd he doesn’t knock on this door ever again.

Not feeling very word-y. Actually, kind of blah today. Hope this blows over soon. I don’t mind feeling volatile, but I hate feeling blah.

Spending the weekend relaxing. They wanted that site to go live yesterday, so I am now officially done except for maintenance. What a fucking relief it is.

This little is moving all around now. Earlier than what I’m used to. I’ll be 18 weeks tomorrow, and with the exception of MB1, I didn’t feel the other kiddos until damn near 20 weeks or so. Not only do I feel this one, everyone else can too. That’s definitely a first. Kids love it. He sure is an active fella. Woe is me in about 10 weeks.

Road by my house is now done. Finally a place to park. Nice to have that fucking port-a-potty out of my backyard too. Nasty bastards.

School starts this month on the 20th. ‘Bout damn time. They are excited about going back – and I’m excited as well. I can handle about two months – but three months make me loopy.

K – going to close this up and get back to fiddling with more templates.

I just now finished that site/software. Only thing left to do is to move it over and make it live. And they aren’t ready for that yet. So, for now – I am fucking done.

I needed to be done. Life is a big struggle when I take on shit like this. It’s so difficult to really work during the day without something suffering. The house, the kids, my eating habits. I’ve been trying to split the time and do part at night, but then everything else goes crazy. MD tries to come home and take over so I can work without interruption, but he’s tired – I know that. Dinner runs late, bath time may or may not happen, and there is absolutely no family time – or alone time for us.

I had a mini-breakdown last night when I stopped working and wanted to spend time with him. He was ready for bed. He was tired. I just miss him. Ended up promising him no more big jobs like this for awhile. He got another raise this week, so that helps out my mind tremendously. I won’t feel as though I have to take on another any time soon. I need to get back to business. I need to rest and de-stress. Wound pretty tight these days.

Think I’ll start by cleaning this house. Sounds like a chore to some, but I love it – when I have the time, that is. I love a clean house. An organized house. Then I’ll tackle that laundry that evil eyes me every time I walk by it. Then I’ll take a bath, go rent some movies, and prepare for a nice quiet family night.

Doesn’t that sound divine?