Where shall I vent, I forgot I made this one. It has a good title. Perfect even. I read my one post. It still is relevant. Shit is funny if only it wasn't my life I was reading. Other blog made be chuckle. I was a blogger before it was all cool like even. 2003. I vented about life. kids. I believe it all started with strange pregnancy cravings. bizzaroville. It's now 20 freaking 12.
My life is still nuts. I have even pondered LDS. Those women got pretending to have it down, down to a freakin T. I long to be even remotely that organzized. Would God help me? I talk to him alot. Maybe not exactly how one should I guess.... God help me. Survive. This. Day. Week. Minute. I read alot of blogs. too many. The ones that draw me in all seem to be these outwardly religous women. Who have great children and a clean house and free time. And apparently the sky is always sunshine and rainbows. Really? The unicorn pooped golden turds on your doorstep and the Smithsonian offered you triple the value to store them for you? Well that's just f'n fabulous.
Are they for real? I know quite a few moms. I know some non moms. I know some moms who wanted to be moms so bad they adopted and invitro'd and the whole shebang. None of them are perfect (some are really friggin close) I want to know where the I have had enough club meets. Does it needs a spokesperson? Though, no pictures, cause hell I look worse than I feel.
Last month, my kids pretty much lived on frozen pizza. CPS should really condemn my home. My laundry is out of control. Like seriously. Throw it away. and start the hell over. Granted there'd be some naked weeks in between cause I am feeling pretty broke too. That's a whole nother topic.
So, here it is world. Me again, MrsGivings. Telling you the whole gray hair, lice infested, saggy boob truth. How fast can you hit delete?
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
This is my life really?
I am having one of those days, the kind where I wonder why I ever had children. Why I get outta bed in the morning? Why I keep trying?
My child/children took some fireworks that my hubs left out on the counter. Yes, on the counter. Dumbass. I saw them, I didn't move them either, dumberass. Assumbably the middle child took a couple of said explosives. Denial of course. Sent to room until they magically reappear. Suddenly it is remembered that one is down the street at a neighbors. Really? Neighbor kid says only 1 was brought down, none lit off. So where is the other? More denial. More lies. Less patience. More despising of parenthood. Middle child spending day in room until hubs comes home. Except for lunch. Which I don't want to make.
Youngest child must know right? She was there. She is also not being allowed to play outside or anything enjoyable inside. She though was the one who led to the partial truth of the firework #1 location.
Eldest child has an attitude over everything and anything. Hates his brother & sister. Slams doors. Only when he wants something or there is something in it for him does he act human. But that is what teenagers do I suppose. Him I sorta understand. I don't get the moods. The meanness or that kind of crap. I get the lack of motivaton. I get the sleepiness.
They are all sneaky. They all lie. I didn't really raise them like this? They hit each other. They yell. They whine. Nothing is good enough.
I just want to run away. The antidepressants don't help. I don't want to believe this is all my doing. I made them into these monsters? Was I supposed to be awful and strict and abusive like my own mother? I don't want to be her. But being me isn't working very well either.
Did I mention I watch someone else's kids too on top of my own? They are not rotten. The ones I have watched previously and have grown up with my kids and moved on from me did not turn out mean or mouthy. So why is it just my own?
Bottom line, my life feels like a train wreck. My house looks like one and I feel like one.
My child/children took some fireworks that my hubs left out on the counter. Yes, on the counter. Dumbass. I saw them, I didn't move them either, dumberass. Assumbably the middle child took a couple of said explosives. Denial of course. Sent to room until they magically reappear. Suddenly it is remembered that one is down the street at a neighbors. Really? Neighbor kid says only 1 was brought down, none lit off. So where is the other? More denial. More lies. Less patience. More despising of parenthood. Middle child spending day in room until hubs comes home. Except for lunch. Which I don't want to make.
Youngest child must know right? She was there. She is also not being allowed to play outside or anything enjoyable inside. She though was the one who led to the partial truth of the firework #1 location.
Eldest child has an attitude over everything and anything. Hates his brother & sister. Slams doors. Only when he wants something or there is something in it for him does he act human. But that is what teenagers do I suppose. Him I sorta understand. I don't get the moods. The meanness or that kind of crap. I get the lack of motivaton. I get the sleepiness.
They are all sneaky. They all lie. I didn't really raise them like this? They hit each other. They yell. They whine. Nothing is good enough.
I just want to run away. The antidepressants don't help. I don't want to believe this is all my doing. I made them into these monsters? Was I supposed to be awful and strict and abusive like my own mother? I don't want to be her. But being me isn't working very well either.
Did I mention I watch someone else's kids too on top of my own? They are not rotten. The ones I have watched previously and have grown up with my kids and moved on from me did not turn out mean or mouthy. So why is it just my own?
Bottom line, my life feels like a train wreck. My house looks like one and I feel like one.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
