At what point will I no longer be able to restrain myself from wanting to drown my child? Seriously? Am I the only mother in the world that sometimes feels she wants to just scream until her vocal box explodes? Because then I wouldn't have to yell anymore. I wouldn't mind being mute, I seriously wouldn't. If I went to my doctor one day and he said, "I'm sorry, you're going to lose the ability to speak."... my response would seriously be.. "And??" Because I get so tired of repeating the same FUCKING thing over AND OVER AND OVER! I just want to shoot someone.
No snacks in the living room. This has been a rule as long as I can remember. At least since we moved into this house which I believe is 3 years now. I have to repeat that at least 10 times a day. "I know!!" IF YOU KNOW THEN WHY DO I HAVE TO REPEAT MYSELF??!?!?!? DO YOU KNOW THAT ANSWER SMART MAN?!?!?
Flush your toilet paper. About a year ago he plugged up the toilet with paper towels and so now he's afraid to flush. I keep telling him, it will be fine. But no, I walk into a bathroom with an over flowing trash can of poop smeared toilet paper. Why did I even bother potty training him if I STILL have to clean up his .. shit?
No drinks in the living room. Basically, nowhere but in the kitchen. Unless we're eating together. But would you like to know how many diet coke cans and juice packs I find in my office daily??
I don't know, I know there are tons more. Put your shoes by the front door so we're not DAILY looking for them. And put your socks in the dirty laundry. They do not belong: tucked into the couch, strewn across the front lawn, in the sand box... basically everywhere but the dirty laundry.
He is much like his father when it comes to clean laundry, and I should basically kick both of their asses. If you don't like that t-shirt, then neatly stack it back on the pile once you find the one you DO like. Do NOT toss it on the floor so I am not sure if it's clean or dirty and I end up washing it again. Assclowns.
So I'm babysitting the child of MrNV's friend. He's a good kid, but older..13. So Monkey is trying to be all cool, which is somewhat annoying. But I walk into the living room to find my coffee table cluttered with trash. Two huge zip-lock bags filled with snacks, opened all over the floor. Wrappers everywhere. And I think between the 2 of them they have eaten about 15 of those cheap brownies.. and that makes me super pissed because I hid them.
I have taken away the XBox and locked myself in the office. I have yelled.. and given the crazy look I inherited from my father. Yes, I snapped and advised them they have 30 minutes to make my home look like less of a pig pen and more like a living room. And advised them that they are pigs and I do not allow pigs to live in my home. I am by no means a well organized neat-freak. But I do have my limits. And I reached them today... and blew up.
However, I feel better now and will try to be less of a bitch. I like this blog thing. I can get all of my anger out in a post and ... now I don't feel the need to kill my child. At least for the next 30 minutes.
