When I was 9, I had a hamster. His name was Brownie, and he was a long-haired brown and white teddy bear hamster. He was awesome, and was the first pet I really loved. Brownie used to sit in my shirt pocket, and I spent hours with him every day. He had a neat plastic cage in my basement with an attached wheel, loop, and attic.
One morning, Brownie was gone. Vanished. I enlisted my family to search for him, but we had no luck. I cried for hours. I held out hope that he would show up again. My family encouraged me that we would find him.
They were all lying. Brownie got out because my dad accidentally forgot to close the attic part of his cage when he fed him that night. He found him less than a week later, after smelling him. He ate into the exposed insulation in the basement and died. My dad and younger sister buried him in the backyard with the rest of the pets that had passed on.
It was over 6 months before I found out what really happened. It crushed me. I dug up the body and cried some more. I guess I'm trying to say that my family has always felt the need to protect me from things that they think will upset me.
I've always been really sensitive. I still cry regularly over the death of my dog 4 years ago. I get upset incredibly easily, and I can stay upset for a long time. Even my boyfriend keeps things from me if he thinks they will bother me, and everyone who knows me well agrees that this is the right thing to do, even though sometimes it comes back and bites them in the ass.
I know everyone has my best interests at heart, but when I really think about it, it bothers me. It stinks that even though I am 27 years old, the people closest to me hide things from me on a pretty regular basis. I wish I had a thicker skin, and could take things in stride like everyone else. Instead, I take everything to heart, and it can eat me up for days, weeks, or longer.
When I get really upset about things, I just go through the motions of taking care of my kids, and I can be lax about it. I've used TV and junk food as a babysitter so I can sit and cry and dwell in bed. It's not like this happens all the time, or for no reason. I'm not depressed or anything. I'm just really sensitive, and things affect me a lot more deeply than they do to others.
It can be isolating. But do I really want people to just shove the truth at me if I can't handle it? I don't know. I guess it's good in a way that the people who care about me try to protect me. I've been through so much crap that sometimes, I think it's good to live in my own little world where people try to keep me happy. On the other hand, I'm never going to be really independent if everyone does this for me forever. I'm super happy being a mom and not having to work, but at the moment, I'm financially dependent on my family. The boyfriend has no job at the moment, so his mom and my mom cover our part of the rent. My parents pay my credit card and gas bills. They buy diapers for my kids. They're the ones paying for my groceries, since I can't afford it.
When I think about it, I have never been financially independent. Throughout college, my parents paid for everything, from my shopping sprees to my luxury apartments. After that, my ex and his family paid for everything, from my dinners out to vacations, to expensive clothes. When I was working, I could afford groceries, as long as I only bought the store brands, and that was it. Now, they pay for everything again.
On a good note, the boyfriend is supposed to start working for his dad again soon, which means he will have his old job back. The one I asked him to quit after T was born because he was at work so much. At least it will pay for the groceries and maybe give me enough money to start paying back my parents for everything they've paid for over the years.
I'm not sure where I really intended to go with this post, or how it ended up here, but it feels better to have gotten it all out.
Showing posts with label rant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rant. Show all posts
Monday, March 5, 2012
Monday, January 30, 2012
Pizza Party with a Side of Drama
I threw an awesome birthday party for the kids this weekend, although, unfortunately, it ended up being full of drama. We rented out a pizza restaurant for 2 hours and hired Matty Roxx, an amazing children's entertainer in our area.
Princess wore a brand new poufy pink tutu and new silver shoes, along with a pink furry stole. She looked precious. We got the boys, (T and Goober, as well as my nephew) matching outfits. They all wore black superhero T-shirts and acid washed black jeans.
While I was going nuts baking the night before at my mom's house (2 types of cake pops and a banana cake), she mentioned that my MIL told her that Rick, the kids' grandpa, was coming. I was annoyed. First of all, he hasn't seen the kids since Christmas 2010, when he promised them all presents and never followed through. I don't care that he didn't buy them stuff, but it made me so mad to see my kids disappointed by him. I was also very irritated that my MIL invited him and didn't tell me. I have a right to know who will be at my kids' party.
The kids had a ton of fun and Matty put on a great show. It was nice to be in a place where 12 kids could run wild.
I've written before about how my SIL and I do not get along, at all. And a lot of the time, I am not the most mature person about it (like Christmas Eve, when I totally ignored her and pretended she wasn't in the room-it was the better option than ruining the holiday)
Well, my MIL took it upon herself to invite my SIL and not tell anyone-not me, not my parents, not my boyfriend. I was near the door, waiting for my best friend from college to arrive, and instead, my SIL walks in. I was shocked, and so angry I was shaking. The first thing out of my mouth was "You weren't invited, so feel free to leave." I really didn't mean to be mean. I just got taken off guard and was furious with my MIL.
They both left, and apparently, she told my boyfriend she was going to kick me out of the house-except I'm on the lease and I pay rent. She can't do that just because she's mad at me. I'm back home now, and we're avoiding each other like the plague. I want to be able to explain to her why I said what I did to her daughter, but I don't think I can without blaming her for overstepping her bounds and inviting her without telling everyone. It wasn't her party, or her place, to do so. I hate being the last person to things, and it seems like she always does this. I thought she learned after the last time, when she invited her daughter and her dogs to stay for a few days at our house and I found out on Facebook.
At least the party was good. And, I found out my college friend is pregnant, and due 2 months before her wedding. I am so excited for her! Now I have baby fever, and I want another one, even though that's crazy and I can't afford it at the moment.
Princess wore a brand new poufy pink tutu and new silver shoes, along with a pink furry stole. She looked precious. We got the boys, (T and Goober, as well as my nephew) matching outfits. They all wore black superhero T-shirts and acid washed black jeans.
While I was going nuts baking the night before at my mom's house (2 types of cake pops and a banana cake), she mentioned that my MIL told her that Rick, the kids' grandpa, was coming. I was annoyed. First of all, he hasn't seen the kids since Christmas 2010, when he promised them all presents and never followed through. I don't care that he didn't buy them stuff, but it made me so mad to see my kids disappointed by him. I was also very irritated that my MIL invited him and didn't tell me. I have a right to know who will be at my kids' party.
The kids had a ton of fun and Matty put on a great show. It was nice to be in a place where 12 kids could run wild.
I've written before about how my SIL and I do not get along, at all. And a lot of the time, I am not the most mature person about it (like Christmas Eve, when I totally ignored her and pretended she wasn't in the room-it was the better option than ruining the holiday)
Well, my MIL took it upon herself to invite my SIL and not tell anyone-not me, not my parents, not my boyfriend. I was near the door, waiting for my best friend from college to arrive, and instead, my SIL walks in. I was shocked, and so angry I was shaking. The first thing out of my mouth was "You weren't invited, so feel free to leave." I really didn't mean to be mean. I just got taken off guard and was furious with my MIL.
They both left, and apparently, she told my boyfriend she was going to kick me out of the house-except I'm on the lease and I pay rent. She can't do that just because she's mad at me. I'm back home now, and we're avoiding each other like the plague. I want to be able to explain to her why I said what I did to her daughter, but I don't think I can without blaming her for overstepping her bounds and inviting her without telling everyone. It wasn't her party, or her place, to do so. I hate being the last person to things, and it seems like she always does this. I thought she learned after the last time, when she invited her daughter and her dogs to stay for a few days at our house and I found out on Facebook.
At least the party was good. And, I found out my college friend is pregnant, and due 2 months before her wedding. I am so excited for her! Now I have baby fever, and I want another one, even though that's crazy and I can't afford it at the moment.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
The Year is Not Going as I Planned
I've been so lazy about blogging since the holidays. I can't seem to get inspired enough to write, and being sick for an entire week totally threw me off.
I've still only gone to the gym once, and now my parents reneged on watching 2 of my kids to give me a chance to go because my sister decided to go back to school. She's starting a nursing program this week, so they have to watch her son while she's at school. I don't know why she decided to go to community college where I live, because she lives an hour and a half away. It just kind of puts a damper on things for me, because sometimes I need the help, and now they have to watch my nephew every day. T is going to be pretty bummed out too, because now he can't go there after school for a few hours every day like he's used to.
Speaking of T, he's turning 4 on Monday, and Princess is turning 3 on Wednesday. I can't believe how fast they're growing up. It feels like they were little just yesterday, but I honestly can't remember either of them being babies, which is weird. I can remember Goober as a baby, but maybe that's because he's the youngest. Thinking about this makes me want another baby, even though I know that is crazy and not possible at the moment.
The boyfriend needs to get a real job, as the internet thing he was working on doesn't seem to be panning out. He was doing well until he decided to have other people help, and everything went to crap. He doesn't seem to care that I'm maxing out all my credit cards just to pay for food, and I'm going to have to borrow money again just to pay our share of the rent this month. I'm really getting sick of him not caring enough to get a job. He knows that if worse came to worse, our families would bail us out so we had food and a place to live, so he's in no rush to get a job.
Since the stupid Star Wars computer game came out a few weeks ago, that's all he's been doing in his waking hours. He wears headphones and plays the damn game. He can't even hear if the kids are screaming 2 feet away from him. I have to tap him on the shoulder and yell if I need his help for anything, and that pisses him off because then he gets killed in his game. I tried to talk to him about it, but he doesn't seem to get it or care, and it's not fair. If he's home and not working, why the hell can't he help a little with the kids, or take out the trash, or clean up his dirty dishes? I wish I knew a way to knock some sense into him.
On a better note, I decided to start a makeup blog as well. You can find it here. I only have a couple posts up now, but I'm planning to swatch a bunch of makeup if I can find a working camera, and post looks of the day.
I hope this coming week will go well. I'm bringing cookie cake to school for T's birthday on Monday, so I hope the kids in his class have fun. I'm also having a party for T and Princess next Saturday. I invited his whole class, and even though the RSVP date was yesterday, I've only heard from 7 out of 17 kids. I hope some more parents call me tomorrow, since we kind of spent a lot of money for the party (we're having a musician who does an interactive show with the kids-my kids saw him when we were pumpkin picking and loved him).
I've still only gone to the gym once, and now my parents reneged on watching 2 of my kids to give me a chance to go because my sister decided to go back to school. She's starting a nursing program this week, so they have to watch her son while she's at school. I don't know why she decided to go to community college where I live, because she lives an hour and a half away. It just kind of puts a damper on things for me, because sometimes I need the help, and now they have to watch my nephew every day. T is going to be pretty bummed out too, because now he can't go there after school for a few hours every day like he's used to.
Speaking of T, he's turning 4 on Monday, and Princess is turning 3 on Wednesday. I can't believe how fast they're growing up. It feels like they were little just yesterday, but I honestly can't remember either of them being babies, which is weird. I can remember Goober as a baby, but maybe that's because he's the youngest. Thinking about this makes me want another baby, even though I know that is crazy and not possible at the moment.
The boyfriend needs to get a real job, as the internet thing he was working on doesn't seem to be panning out. He was doing well until he decided to have other people help, and everything went to crap. He doesn't seem to care that I'm maxing out all my credit cards just to pay for food, and I'm going to have to borrow money again just to pay our share of the rent this month. I'm really getting sick of him not caring enough to get a job. He knows that if worse came to worse, our families would bail us out so we had food and a place to live, so he's in no rush to get a job.
Since the stupid Star Wars computer game came out a few weeks ago, that's all he's been doing in his waking hours. He wears headphones and plays the damn game. He can't even hear if the kids are screaming 2 feet away from him. I have to tap him on the shoulder and yell if I need his help for anything, and that pisses him off because then he gets killed in his game. I tried to talk to him about it, but he doesn't seem to get it or care, and it's not fair. If he's home and not working, why the hell can't he help a little with the kids, or take out the trash, or clean up his dirty dishes? I wish I knew a way to knock some sense into him.
On a better note, I decided to start a makeup blog as well. You can find it here. I only have a couple posts up now, but I'm planning to swatch a bunch of makeup if I can find a working camera, and post looks of the day.
I hope this coming week will go well. I'm bringing cookie cake to school for T's birthday on Monday, so I hope the kids in his class have fun. I'm also having a party for T and Princess next Saturday. I invited his whole class, and even though the RSVP date was yesterday, I've only heard from 7 out of 17 kids. I hope some more parents call me tomorrow, since we kind of spent a lot of money for the party (we're having a musician who does an interactive show with the kids-my kids saw him when we were pumpkin picking and loved him).
Sunday, January 8, 2012
A Not So Great Start to the New Year
I've been promising myself that I would start blogging more regularly since the holidays are over, but that hasn't happened so far.
I've been dealing with a very cranky 15 month old who is getting 3 molars in at once. I swear, the kid's only sleeping for an hour or two at a time, and only after I dose him with Ibuprofen. He's been so uncomfortable, he's been chewing through binkies. My other kids never did that.
I also decided I was totally sick of taking the medication I've been on for the past few months because of the weight gain it caused, so I stopped taking it, which has really thrown my body for a loop (not a doctor approved stop but I don't really care).
In the past 3 months, even though my eating habits haven't changed much, I've gained 20-30 pounds, all in my stomach. I look 4 months pregnant, and it's embarrassing. Since I'm poor, my mother had to buy me a whole new wardrobe of shirts, because I only fit into 2 maternity shirts and nothing else. Jeans that were so big I could barely even wear them with a belt are now so tight they won't button. I've had enough.
Even though I've only been to the gym once since I got my membership, I'm motivated to go, and I'm signing up for a few personal training sessions so I'm less intimidated by the machines and don't hurt myself (I have a history of working out too hard in my college days, leading to a 3-finger sized tear in an abdominal muscle that led to 6 weeks of complete bedrest).
I've also had crazy insomnia since I stopped the medication. It's only the 3rd day, but I've had 45 minutes of sleep in the past 24 hours. I feel so odd and awake and giddy. It's really bizarre. I finally fell asleep but my daughter woke up crying from her nap, and after I moved her to her room (she was so tired she fell asleep on a chair in front of the TV), and realized I felt totally awake again and will not be able to fall asleep anytime soon.
I hope I can get back into the swing of things soon.
I've been dealing with a very cranky 15 month old who is getting 3 molars in at once. I swear, the kid's only sleeping for an hour or two at a time, and only after I dose him with Ibuprofen. He's been so uncomfortable, he's been chewing through binkies. My other kids never did that.
I also decided I was totally sick of taking the medication I've been on for the past few months because of the weight gain it caused, so I stopped taking it, which has really thrown my body for a loop (not a doctor approved stop but I don't really care).
In the past 3 months, even though my eating habits haven't changed much, I've gained 20-30 pounds, all in my stomach. I look 4 months pregnant, and it's embarrassing. Since I'm poor, my mother had to buy me a whole new wardrobe of shirts, because I only fit into 2 maternity shirts and nothing else. Jeans that were so big I could barely even wear them with a belt are now so tight they won't button. I've had enough.
Even though I've only been to the gym once since I got my membership, I'm motivated to go, and I'm signing up for a few personal training sessions so I'm less intimidated by the machines and don't hurt myself (I have a history of working out too hard in my college days, leading to a 3-finger sized tear in an abdominal muscle that led to 6 weeks of complete bedrest).
I've also had crazy insomnia since I stopped the medication. It's only the 3rd day, but I've had 45 minutes of sleep in the past 24 hours. I feel so odd and awake and giddy. It's really bizarre. I finally fell asleep but my daughter woke up crying from her nap, and after I moved her to her room (she was so tired she fell asleep on a chair in front of the TV), and realized I felt totally awake again and will not be able to fall asleep anytime soon.
I hope I can get back into the swing of things soon.
Monday, November 7, 2011
So I just read this article about reprimanding other people's kids in public and it got my blood boiling a little bit. I feel like not only is the author dead wrong, but something is wrong with a lot of the commenters. They must either be old or never have had children.
As far as I'm concerned, no one but me has the right to reprimand or discipline my child unless I have given you express permission to do so. I don't want your help or your unsolicited opinions on my ability to parent my kids.
Just because my child has a tantrum/throws sand or toys at another kid/thows stuff on the floor/hits or kicks or punches me or an inanimate object, etc, doesn't give you the right to judge me or him and decide to intervene. My two younger kids usually behave when we're out, or, worst case scenario, they cry.
T is a completely different matter. He regularly has meltdowns and gets very agressive when something sets him off. In fact, just this weekend, he bit a 9 year old and tried to choke out a 6 year old (but the older boys were messing with him and should have known better-T is not even 4 yet, and for the biting, well, he's missing his 4 top teeth so it's really only 1 tooth that can break skin).
And when we're out and he throws a colossal tantrum? I hate it more than anything if people try to say something to me or to him. Seriously, he is only a preschooler, and he has special needs. You've never seen him before and don't know where the issues are coming from, so keep your mouth shut.
He's not a spoiled brat, and I do discipline my children when need be. But your version of discipline is only going to make his tantrum worse. He's not logical, he's 3! You can't tell him why he's wrong and that he's bother others and needs to behave. You will never get through to him. And I'm not going to spank him/pinch him etc, in the store because I learned a long time ago that doesn't work. I may threaten to leave him in the store and walk around a corner (because he usually comes as soon as he can't see me anymore), but I'm not really leaving him and I keep him in my sights (or sounds, he is screaming at the top of his lungs-I'm not gonna lose him).
I guess what I mean is that you shouldn't assume something about a parent or child if you see a meltdown in public. You don't know the necessary background information to formulate a educated opinion. So keep your opinion/parenting tips/dirty looks/discipline to yourself. Because if I saw another person who I didn't know yelling at my kids, especially T, I might assault your sorry ass. So keep your mouth shut and just keep on walking.
As far as I'm concerned, no one but me has the right to reprimand or discipline my child unless I have given you express permission to do so. I don't want your help or your unsolicited opinions on my ability to parent my kids.
Just because my child has a tantrum/throws sand or toys at another kid/thows stuff on the floor/hits or kicks or punches me or an inanimate object, etc, doesn't give you the right to judge me or him and decide to intervene. My two younger kids usually behave when we're out, or, worst case scenario, they cry.
T is a completely different matter. He regularly has meltdowns and gets very agressive when something sets him off. In fact, just this weekend, he bit a 9 year old and tried to choke out a 6 year old (but the older boys were messing with him and should have known better-T is not even 4 yet, and for the biting, well, he's missing his 4 top teeth so it's really only 1 tooth that can break skin).
And when we're out and he throws a colossal tantrum? I hate it more than anything if people try to say something to me or to him. Seriously, he is only a preschooler, and he has special needs. You've never seen him before and don't know where the issues are coming from, so keep your mouth shut.
He's not a spoiled brat, and I do discipline my children when need be. But your version of discipline is only going to make his tantrum worse. He's not logical, he's 3! You can't tell him why he's wrong and that he's bother others and needs to behave. You will never get through to him. And I'm not going to spank him/pinch him etc, in the store because I learned a long time ago that doesn't work. I may threaten to leave him in the store and walk around a corner (because he usually comes as soon as he can't see me anymore), but I'm not really leaving him and I keep him in my sights (or sounds, he is screaming at the top of his lungs-I'm not gonna lose him).
I guess what I mean is that you shouldn't assume something about a parent or child if you see a meltdown in public. You don't know the necessary background information to formulate a educated opinion. So keep your opinion/parenting tips/dirty looks/discipline to yourself. Because if I saw another person who I didn't know yelling at my kids, especially T, I might assault your sorry ass. So keep your mouth shut and just keep on walking.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Road Rage
I have road rage. When I'm driving, people irritate the hell out of me. Are you going the speed limit or less? You can bet I'm cursing you out as I plod along behind you. No turn signal? I will probably be shaking my fist at you and calling you an asshole. Are you up my ass in your big SUV? I will flip you the bird as I hit my brakes to go even slower, just to piss you off.
I know my road rage isn't a good thing, but I've seen worse. Some people are really freaking crazy. My actions are tame compared to some of the crap I've seen people do behind the wheel. Like the time some guy took offense that my dad and I made a right turn into the parking lot before he made his left. Yeah, we had right of way, but he didn't see it that way. He leaned on his horn, got up our ass, and followed us until we parked. Then he blocked us in. We ended up having to call the police because we were afraid to get out of the car. Really dude? We were in a parking lot. At an outlet mall. Chill the hell out.
Or the time my boyfriend pissed off some guy in the Toys R Us parking lot. He cut us off, my boyfriend honked, so he followed us and he parked next to us. I was really pregnant with Princess at the time. The guy got out of the car and started screaming at us and wanted to fight my boyfriend. Oh yeah, and his toddler was in the backseat, terrified and sobbing hysterically. I ended up getting out of the car and giving him a piece of my mind about how unfit of a father he was to act like that in front of his son. It is not appropriate to tell a 20 year old to stop being a pussy and get out of the car so you can kick his ass when you're in your mid-40s and your son is watching. I got him to drive away by threatening to call CPS on him.
Then there was the guy on the Thruway when we were driving home from my Oma's funeral. The boyfriend was driving with me, my sister, and her boyfriend as passengers. Some guy cut us off and we almost crashed. So he honked at him. The guy slowed down and we passed him. Then he tried to sweve into us on purpose. It was scary. He started following us. He would tailgate us, then switch lanes, pass us, and cut us off. We got off the next exit, which wasn't ours, and he followed us. I had to call 911. By the time the state police caught up to us, we had driven about 20 miles out of our way and into NJ from NY, with this guy following us the whole time. When he finally got pulled over, he told the police we followed him and he feared for his life. Really? I was hysterical when the trooper came to talk to us. I had just buried my Oma and some crazy guy was trying to run my car off the road. It was not a pretty scene, but the guy got a ticket or something. I almost pressed charges, but I was too stressed out with everything else going on.
So now, I carry a beating stick in my car. Yeah, you heard right. It was actually my Oma's. She kept it in her car in case of trouble (my Oma was an old-school German woman and she was no joke!) My beating stick is a 2 foot long, 3" across piece of wood wrapped in black tape. I thankfully haven't had to use it yet, but I've learned it is better to be safe than sorry, because some people are really crazy, and the littlest things can set them off. And I'm going to make sure I can at least attempt to protect myself.
I know my road rage isn't a good thing, but I've seen worse. Some people are really freaking crazy. My actions are tame compared to some of the crap I've seen people do behind the wheel. Like the time some guy took offense that my dad and I made a right turn into the parking lot before he made his left. Yeah, we had right of way, but he didn't see it that way. He leaned on his horn, got up our ass, and followed us until we parked. Then he blocked us in. We ended up having to call the police because we were afraid to get out of the car. Really dude? We were in a parking lot. At an outlet mall. Chill the hell out.
Or the time my boyfriend pissed off some guy in the Toys R Us parking lot. He cut us off, my boyfriend honked, so he followed us and he parked next to us. I was really pregnant with Princess at the time. The guy got out of the car and started screaming at us and wanted to fight my boyfriend. Oh yeah, and his toddler was in the backseat, terrified and sobbing hysterically. I ended up getting out of the car and giving him a piece of my mind about how unfit of a father he was to act like that in front of his son. It is not appropriate to tell a 20 year old to stop being a pussy and get out of the car so you can kick his ass when you're in your mid-40s and your son is watching. I got him to drive away by threatening to call CPS on him.
Then there was the guy on the Thruway when we were driving home from my Oma's funeral. The boyfriend was driving with me, my sister, and her boyfriend as passengers. Some guy cut us off and we almost crashed. So he honked at him. The guy slowed down and we passed him. Then he tried to sweve into us on purpose. It was scary. He started following us. He would tailgate us, then switch lanes, pass us, and cut us off. We got off the next exit, which wasn't ours, and he followed us. I had to call 911. By the time the state police caught up to us, we had driven about 20 miles out of our way and into NJ from NY, with this guy following us the whole time. When he finally got pulled over, he told the police we followed him and he feared for his life. Really? I was hysterical when the trooper came to talk to us. I had just buried my Oma and some crazy guy was trying to run my car off the road. It was not a pretty scene, but the guy got a ticket or something. I almost pressed charges, but I was too stressed out with everything else going on.
So now, I carry a beating stick in my car. Yeah, you heard right. It was actually my Oma's. She kept it in her car in case of trouble (my Oma was an old-school German woman and she was no joke!) My beating stick is a 2 foot long, 3" across piece of wood wrapped in black tape. I thankfully haven't had to use it yet, but I've learned it is better to be safe than sorry, because some people are really crazy, and the littlest things can set them off. And I'm going to make sure I can at least attempt to protect myself.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
School and Bees
Yesterday was T's third day of preschool. I picked him and we went home. I left him with his dad and went to Costco, where I bought enough school snacks to last until the new year. Then I came home.
We were hanging out in my bed, watching Scooby Doo, even though it's the new one and I think it's a little too scary for the kids. T got upset and was pointing to his leg.
"Mommy, ing, ing, ow!" I looked at his leg, and lo and behold, there was a bee sting. It was not there in the morning, and he didn't get it on the way to or from my car, which means he got it at school. I double-checked with the boyfriend to make sure that it was, in fact, a bee sting. It was, and he had to get the rest of the stinger out.
Needless to say, I was livid. Thank God he wasn't allergic. I have a huge fear of bees, and I have never been stung. I am terrified I will be allergic. When I see a bee, I scream and run. Sometimes, there is also crying involved. I'm just happy T was ok. I asked him where he got the sting, and he told me it happened at "ool".
I know the kids all have time on the school playground. I'm assuming that is when it happened. I'm also sure that T would most likely have screamed and possibly cried when it happened, and he definitely would have showed it to an adult. Even if they couldn't understand what he told them, the sting was obvious. It was on the side of his leg, just below his knee. I know that by the time I saw it, it was red around the edges and swollen.
So why did no one tell me? Someone at the school had to realize he got stung by a bee, or at least that something happened on the playground. This is supposed to be a wonderful school. The longer I reflect on it, the angrier I am.
I would understand if he fell down and didn't get hurt and no one told me, but a bee sting? It is ridiculous. I am going to give the principal or whoever is in charge an earful on Monday, because what they did is not ok.
We were hanging out in my bed, watching Scooby Doo, even though it's the new one and I think it's a little too scary for the kids. T got upset and was pointing to his leg.
"Mommy, ing, ing, ow!" I looked at his leg, and lo and behold, there was a bee sting. It was not there in the morning, and he didn't get it on the way to or from my car, which means he got it at school. I double-checked with the boyfriend to make sure that it was, in fact, a bee sting. It was, and he had to get the rest of the stinger out.
Needless to say, I was livid. Thank God he wasn't allergic. I have a huge fear of bees, and I have never been stung. I am terrified I will be allergic. When I see a bee, I scream and run. Sometimes, there is also crying involved. I'm just happy T was ok. I asked him where he got the sting, and he told me it happened at "ool".
I know the kids all have time on the school playground. I'm assuming that is when it happened. I'm also sure that T would most likely have screamed and possibly cried when it happened, and he definitely would have showed it to an adult. Even if they couldn't understand what he told them, the sting was obvious. It was on the side of his leg, just below his knee. I know that by the time I saw it, it was red around the edges and swollen.
So why did no one tell me? Someone at the school had to realize he got stung by a bee, or at least that something happened on the playground. This is supposed to be a wonderful school. The longer I reflect on it, the angrier I am.
I would understand if he fell down and didn't get hurt and no one told me, but a bee sting? It is ridiculous. I am going to give the principal or whoever is in charge an earful on Monday, because what they did is not ok.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
How the Hurricane Ruined my Day
Here on the east coast, we are preparing for Hurricane Irene. She is supposed to cause lots of flooding and maybe a loss of power where I live. This hurricane ruined my day, and quite possibly, my relationship.
Quite frankly, today really sucked. I found out on Facebook that the boyfriend's sister was staying out the hurricane at our house. With her 2 little, yappy, disgusting, fleabag dogs. I can't stand small dogs. I have never had a good experience with them. I am a cat person, and I tolerate large dogs-the bigger, the better. Princess is also terrified of dogs, which I found out when I brought her to my therapist's house last week. She screamed the whole session.
I also can't stand my future sister-in-law. She is fake, a drunk, and everything she says has a nasty undertone to it. Whenever she is in my house, I stay in my room. I keep the kids shut in my room with me. This is so I can avoid drama. I do not want to snap on people in front of my kids.
I told the boyfriend to tell his mom she and her dogs could not stay at our house. She has other friends, or she could have stayed in a hotel or hurricane shelter if she was worried her place would flood. He refused to talk to his mom, so I confronted her. I pay rent, and I should have at least been consulted.
I got my period last night, 8 days early. I am moody, bitchy, and probably could have been nicer, but I wasn't. I went off on her. She told me her daughter is her blood, which apparently makes her more important than me. I threatened to leave with the kids for good.
She countered by telling me that come Sept. 1, our lease is not being renewed. We will have a month-to-month lease so the landlord's son can move in. I think I should have been informed about this as soon as she found out. I am on the lease, and I pay rent. It was disrespectful of her not to tell me something this important.
At this point, I was so furious, I couldn't breathe. I screamed at her to F-off, went upstairs, and got sick. Then I started packing enough clothes for me and the kids for a few days. I can't even remember the last time I was this angry.
The boyfriend took his mom's side and accused me of attacking her. Last time I checked, you can't attack someone just by yelling at them. I don't like being treated like a 10 year-old and kept in the dark about things that affect me and my kids.
I brought some bags downstairs. The dogs had been dropped off while I was packing. T was playing with them. The boyfriend's mom was trying to get Princess to pet them; she was crying. This set me off again. I hate yelling in front of my kids, but I did. I threatened the dogs. I demanded an apology for being disrespected, but instead got a lecture on not yelling at my kids.
I called my mom. She took T in her car. I took Princess, Goober, and my cat Misty. The boyfriend was mad I took the kids. I told him I refused to keep our daughter near those flea-bitten, giant rats they were calling dogs. Oh, and his sister, and mom until she apologized. He was welcome to come to my parents' house (It is literally only 3 blocks away).
Once we were settled in at my parents', I realized I forgot my cat's food and litter. I had to go home for it. One of the dogs tried to bite my leg on the stairs. I kicked it. The boyfriend was really upset with me for yelling at his mom. He also doesn't understand why I don't like his sister, even though he doesn't like her either.
We argued. A lot. He threatened to leave me because I'm mean to him and his family. I have never yelled at his mom before, but she deserved it. And, as a rule, I try to avoid his sister so I don't yell at her. I do yell at him all the time, but 9 times out of 10 it is to pick his garbage up off the floor or take out the stinky garbage. I don't think that is even really yelling. It's more like nagging.
I left again, and it was all worse than before. I hope he is less pissed off in the morning. Because today wasn't about him. It was about me being disrespected and not consulted about important things. He couldn't see past me yelling at his mom. I think he should have been on my side. So that is where things stand. I just hope Hurricane Irene didn't kill my relationship.
Quite frankly, today really sucked. I found out on Facebook that the boyfriend's sister was staying out the hurricane at our house. With her 2 little, yappy, disgusting, fleabag dogs. I can't stand small dogs. I have never had a good experience with them. I am a cat person, and I tolerate large dogs-the bigger, the better. Princess is also terrified of dogs, which I found out when I brought her to my therapist's house last week. She screamed the whole session.
I also can't stand my future sister-in-law. She is fake, a drunk, and everything she says has a nasty undertone to it. Whenever she is in my house, I stay in my room. I keep the kids shut in my room with me. This is so I can avoid drama. I do not want to snap on people in front of my kids.
I told the boyfriend to tell his mom she and her dogs could not stay at our house. She has other friends, or she could have stayed in a hotel or hurricane shelter if she was worried her place would flood. He refused to talk to his mom, so I confronted her. I pay rent, and I should have at least been consulted.
I got my period last night, 8 days early. I am moody, bitchy, and probably could have been nicer, but I wasn't. I went off on her. She told me her daughter is her blood, which apparently makes her more important than me. I threatened to leave with the kids for good.
She countered by telling me that come Sept. 1, our lease is not being renewed. We will have a month-to-month lease so the landlord's son can move in. I think I should have been informed about this as soon as she found out. I am on the lease, and I pay rent. It was disrespectful of her not to tell me something this important.
At this point, I was so furious, I couldn't breathe. I screamed at her to F-off, went upstairs, and got sick. Then I started packing enough clothes for me and the kids for a few days. I can't even remember the last time I was this angry.
The boyfriend took his mom's side and accused me of attacking her. Last time I checked, you can't attack someone just by yelling at them. I don't like being treated like a 10 year-old and kept in the dark about things that affect me and my kids.
I brought some bags downstairs. The dogs had been dropped off while I was packing. T was playing with them. The boyfriend's mom was trying to get Princess to pet them; she was crying. This set me off again. I hate yelling in front of my kids, but I did. I threatened the dogs. I demanded an apology for being disrespected, but instead got a lecture on not yelling at my kids.
I called my mom. She took T in her car. I took Princess, Goober, and my cat Misty. The boyfriend was mad I took the kids. I told him I refused to keep our daughter near those flea-bitten, giant rats they were calling dogs. Oh, and his sister, and mom until she apologized. He was welcome to come to my parents' house (It is literally only 3 blocks away).
Once we were settled in at my parents', I realized I forgot my cat's food and litter. I had to go home for it. One of the dogs tried to bite my leg on the stairs. I kicked it. The boyfriend was really upset with me for yelling at his mom. He also doesn't understand why I don't like his sister, even though he doesn't like her either.
We argued. A lot. He threatened to leave me because I'm mean to him and his family. I have never yelled at his mom before, but she deserved it. And, as a rule, I try to avoid his sister so I don't yell at her. I do yell at him all the time, but 9 times out of 10 it is to pick his garbage up off the floor or take out the stinky garbage. I don't think that is even really yelling. It's more like nagging.
I left again, and it was all worse than before. I hope he is less pissed off in the morning. Because today wasn't about him. It was about me being disrespected and not consulted about important things. He couldn't see past me yelling at his mom. I think he should have been on my side. So that is where things stand. I just hope Hurricane Irene didn't kill my relationship.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Don't Judge Me!
I despise how people are so judgmental, especially women. That's not to say that I haven't come across men who inaccurately judge, but more on them later. Women are crazy and fickle and mean, and I don't understand them, even though I am one. Sometimes, I don't even understand me. This may be why I can count my friends on just one hand, and my children never have play dates with other people's kids. I hate to admit it, but I judge people too. But I absolutely hate it when people judge me, especially because it's usually over something really trivial and stupid.
I get really upset and annoyed when people judge me as a person and a mother by my tattoos. This happens very often. I have 14, and I got them all before I had any kids. And I do not regret a single one. My mother hates my tattoos and always wants me to cover them up or get them removed. I don't mind her nagging because she's my mom. The boyfriend wants me to cover up when we go out to a nice restaurant. This doesn't bother me either. I get the fact that it may be inappropriate to have my mostly nude pinup tattoo showing when we are going somewhere fancy. However, I'm not going to cover it up all the time, and as far as I'm concerned, it's too damn bad if I don't know you and you don't like it. That's your problem, not mine.
Don't assume I'm a bad parent because I have tattoos. You can look totally conventional, wear a business suit, and abuse your kids and be a horrible person. My tattoos have absolutely no bearing on my ability to parent my children. I'm a good mom, and if you know me, this is obvious. And the tattoos are mine, not my kids', so why do you not want your child to play with mine? Are they lesser beings because of me? The way some people think is ridiculous. I don't judge you for wearing ugly/too tight/inappropriate clothes or jewelry, so don't judge me just because I have tattoos. However, if you are going to judge me because of this, I really don't want to know you anyway.
I also hate that people judge me for not breastfeeding my children. Even in the hospital right after birth, the nurses were chastising me. Really? I didn't know it was the end of the world. I was surprised when even strangers came up to me in public while bottle-feeding my children and pretty much equated bottle-feeding with bad parenting. Seriously people, you don't know my story so don't jump to conclusions. I would have loved to have breastfed, but I couldn't. It's not that I didn't try hard enough or have enough desire to either. I have breast hypoplasia, also known as tubular breasts. I had them surgically corrected when I was 20, so they look normal now, but I couldn't breastfeed. It was mortifying in school to have my breasts look like they did. And it was sad I couldn't breastfeed, no matter how hard I tried. No amount of pumping would get more than one to two ounces out of each breast. And you know how it feels when you are breastfeeding and you need to pump, and your breasts get really hard an painful? The bottom half of one breast felt like that all the time. It sucked on so many levels. My oldest son, T, lost over 1 1/2 pounds before his first doctor's visit at one week old when I tried to breastfeed him. It wasn't okay, and I tried for 4 months to up my milk supply, and I never happened. So I don't appreciate the negative feedback about something I am physically incapable of doing, thank you very much.
Stop judging me on my clothes. I'm tall, and I like to wear cute shoes, even if it's just to the grocery store. Don't gawk at me and nudge your friends because when I'm in my heels, I'm 6'2". It makes me happy, and I do it for me, not you. Same with my makeup. I love makeup, especially bright makeup. It is not unusual for me to wear 3 different eyeshadows and fuschia lipstick. I do it because I feel glamorous and sexy with it on. I'll admit that some days it is a little over the top, but I didn't ask for your opinion, so don't give it to me. I hate unsolicited advice.
I also hate it when random people judge my kids. I went to the Bronx Zoo one day when T was about 2 1/2. When he didn't want to be in the stroller anymore, I put him in his backpack/baby leash. And people were nasty to me about it. Sorry I don't want him to run away or get lost. He has behavioral and emotional issues and throws awful tantrums. He can also get violent when he's angry, and he has no concept of personal space. I've found that the personal space thing really bothers most other children, and I don't want him running up to you and poking your kids. Just because your children are 'normal' and have no delays doesn't mean all kids are. That said, I'm not going to keep him home all the time because of this. There was a grandmother at the zoo that same day with 4 of her grandkids. One wasn't behaving and started to scream and cry. She grabbed the kid's face by his chin and threatened to whup him if he didn't stop. When she let go, the kid had red marks on his face. No one who saw this batted an eye. So you can be borderline abusive in public to your kids and it's okay, but I put a baby leash on mine and I'm a bad mother. What the hell is wrong with people?
Now I'll get back to men. They judge too, and it's pretty much the opposite of how women judge me. Having a pinup tattoo on my arm does not mean I'm a stripper, or easy. No, I do not want to go out with you or go home with you. Do you treat all women like that? Same with my heels and makeup. Just because I'm out somewhere and put together doesn't mean I'm looking for a guy. I'm here with my kids, thank you. Leave me alone when I tell you to. I'm not playing hard to get, I just want to get away from you. And even if I didn't have an awesome boyfriend and did want a date, it wouldn't be with you. I don't go for old, grungy, hairy biker guys or young, obnoxious wannabe-rappers.
So just stop judging people over every little thing. Frankly, it's none of your business, and you should focus on your own shortcomings instead of the ones you perceive in others.
I get really upset and annoyed when people judge me as a person and a mother by my tattoos. This happens very often. I have 14, and I got them all before I had any kids. And I do not regret a single one. My mother hates my tattoos and always wants me to cover them up or get them removed. I don't mind her nagging because she's my mom. The boyfriend wants me to cover up when we go out to a nice restaurant. This doesn't bother me either. I get the fact that it may be inappropriate to have my mostly nude pinup tattoo showing when we are going somewhere fancy. However, I'm not going to cover it up all the time, and as far as I'm concerned, it's too damn bad if I don't know you and you don't like it. That's your problem, not mine.
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| Yeah, I also have the boob tattoo-but it's mine and the boyfriend's initials, people |
I also hate that people judge me for not breastfeeding my children. Even in the hospital right after birth, the nurses were chastising me. Really? I didn't know it was the end of the world. I was surprised when even strangers came up to me in public while bottle-feeding my children and pretty much equated bottle-feeding with bad parenting. Seriously people, you don't know my story so don't jump to conclusions. I would have loved to have breastfed, but I couldn't. It's not that I didn't try hard enough or have enough desire to either. I have breast hypoplasia, also known as tubular breasts. I had them surgically corrected when I was 20, so they look normal now, but I couldn't breastfeed. It was mortifying in school to have my breasts look like they did. And it was sad I couldn't breastfeed, no matter how hard I tried. No amount of pumping would get more than one to two ounces out of each breast. And you know how it feels when you are breastfeeding and you need to pump, and your breasts get really hard an painful? The bottom half of one breast felt like that all the time. It sucked on so many levels. My oldest son, T, lost over 1 1/2 pounds before his first doctor's visit at one week old when I tried to breastfeed him. It wasn't okay, and I tried for 4 months to up my milk supply, and I never happened. So I don't appreciate the negative feedback about something I am physically incapable of doing, thank you very much.
Stop judging me on my clothes. I'm tall, and I like to wear cute shoes, even if it's just to the grocery store. Don't gawk at me and nudge your friends because when I'm in my heels, I'm 6'2". It makes me happy, and I do it for me, not you. Same with my makeup. I love makeup, especially bright makeup. It is not unusual for me to wear 3 different eyeshadows and fuschia lipstick. I do it because I feel glamorous and sexy with it on. I'll admit that some days it is a little over the top, but I didn't ask for your opinion, so don't give it to me. I hate unsolicited advice.
 | |
| This is pretty typical-bright, bright, bright! |
I also hate it when random people judge my kids. I went to the Bronx Zoo one day when T was about 2 1/2. When he didn't want to be in the stroller anymore, I put him in his backpack/baby leash. And people were nasty to me about it. Sorry I don't want him to run away or get lost. He has behavioral and emotional issues and throws awful tantrums. He can also get violent when he's angry, and he has no concept of personal space. I've found that the personal space thing really bothers most other children, and I don't want him running up to you and poking your kids. Just because your children are 'normal' and have no delays doesn't mean all kids are. That said, I'm not going to keep him home all the time because of this. There was a grandmother at the zoo that same day with 4 of her grandkids. One wasn't behaving and started to scream and cry. She grabbed the kid's face by his chin and threatened to whup him if he didn't stop. When she let go, the kid had red marks on his face. No one who saw this batted an eye. So you can be borderline abusive in public to your kids and it's okay, but I put a baby leash on mine and I'm a bad mother. What the hell is wrong with people?
Now I'll get back to men. They judge too, and it's pretty much the opposite of how women judge me. Having a pinup tattoo on my arm does not mean I'm a stripper, or easy. No, I do not want to go out with you or go home with you. Do you treat all women like that? Same with my heels and makeup. Just because I'm out somewhere and put together doesn't mean I'm looking for a guy. I'm here with my kids, thank you. Leave me alone when I tell you to. I'm not playing hard to get, I just want to get away from you. And even if I didn't have an awesome boyfriend and did want a date, it wouldn't be with you. I don't go for old, grungy, hairy biker guys or young, obnoxious wannabe-rappers.
So just stop judging people over every little thing. Frankly, it's none of your business, and you should focus on your own shortcomings instead of the ones you perceive in others.
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