Archive for the ‘grrr face’ Tag
April 18 2011
Going to the grocery store is a necessary evil. If I go by myself, it can be a nice break, but it’s still a hassle. If I must go with one of the kids, though, it’s usually Buzz. We try to laugh, we smile at those we pass and Buzz is a friendly sort who waves hello to everyone.
This afternoon, however, there was this woman. She was with her teenage daughter whose face was hidden by an abundance of black eyeliner, arms in a permanent cross every time we passed. Which was a few times. After a couple run-ins, I noticed her sizing up the contents of my cart. And then she looked at me. Not in a friendly sort of way. I then watched as she turned to her already derisive daughter for someone to share in her uppity comments.
What the hell, lady?!
I spent the remainder of our time at the grocery store wondering why this woman looked at me.
- She wanted a piece of my Double Fudge Brownie ice cream.
- My bunch of bananas was taunting her.
- Did I inadvertently lob a can of corn at her head?
- She was upset because my kid is cuter than her kid. And a lot less angsty.
- She was jealous at how awesome I am. And younger. Because these tired bags under my eyes, they just scream young and awesome.
In other words, I have no idea. Though I do know it doesn’t take a lot to be nice, even at the grocery store. Why make a chore no one really wants to do even worse? I’m not all rainbows and puppies here, but smile. Save your dirty looks and snark for another time. Like on your blog. Blogs are great for that kind of thing.
March 21 2011
I’m just going to get this out there, with the thought that maybe if I do I’ll feel more inclined to write here. Because right now, it feels like I’m hiding something.
My husband and I are getting a divorce.
Or, we would be if we were legaly married. I’ve called him my husband because that just seemed easier and sounded more permanent than boyfriend. After 13 years and 3 kids, there was nothing about it that didn’t feel like a marriage to me, I didn’t need a piece of paper. Though if I had a do-over, I probably would. Or I just might not put myself in the situation to begin with. As it is, we broke up. Which makes it sound so very high school.
I’ve closed comments because I don’t need sympathy. I appreciate well wishes, but I’m not heartbroken. Not for myself. I’m angry, really angry. And if you get me started I’ll probaby go on a 3,000 word tirade here on the internet and I don’t think that will benefit anyone.
I am, however, heartbroken for my kids. They don’t deserve this. They also don’t deserve two parents fighting to make something work when they just aren’t happy together anymore. From what I can see, however, I’m taking it a lot harder for them than they actually are. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, kids are resilient. And amazing.
Single parenting has been hard, very much so. I’m not used to having much of a break during my days (and nights) but now there are none at all. And there are all kinds of future logistics I’ve probably yet to even consider. But right now, it’s still me and my kids. Without them, I’m sure I’d be a lot more lost than I am.
January 07 2011
For this past Christmas, I made the mistake of suggesting we buy Abby another stash of crayons. Her previous lot has been broken into pieces, chewed, and lost in every nook and cranny not even imaginable, and I don’t even let her play with them often. If you’ve been reading here long enough, you probably know my position on crayons. They’re an evil hassle more than anything. But she loves them, and who am I to deny that?
So we bought her a tower of crayons. From the moment she opened it on Christmas morning, that was all she wanted to play with. Not color, mind you. No, she does very little actual coloring. She just carried them around everywhere, transferring from one position to another. Until they were dumped out and spread around the house. Then we played pick-up.
We gathered most of them and I put them in their place out of her reach. This way, she’s only able to desecrate the house when I’m in the mood, or am desperate.
Even still, I’m finding crayons hiding under couches and tables. Like the other day, when Abby emerged with a very red, unused Crayola.
I didn’t get a chance to grab it from her, however, as she immediately darted away with it to the boys’ room, hoarding it away like her precious. Since it was time to make the kids’ lunches, I let her go, forgetting how much harm she could really do with one crayon.
It wasn’t until a few hours later that I looked in to realize she had scribbled bold red all over my son’s bed.
I spent the afternoon tediously scrubbing the pigment out of his white and blue comforter. When it was all said and done, most of it had been erased, or more smeared. A light pink-ish hint in its place. But it could be worse. 7 year old boys like pink, right?
December 14 2010
Dear December,
I thought we had an agreement. I was looking forward to you, to the holidays, and I assumed you’d do your best to be pleasant in return. So what happened?
I had a post planned about how putting up our Christmas tree and the days since have been an ordeal what with the younger kids treating it as their own personal jungle gym. But then I took a self-imposed mini-break from the internet. Did you miss me? In that time, we’ve had our first significant snowfall, froze my butt off, and finished the majority of the kids’ gift buying.
Then, our car was broken into right in our own driveway. They tried to steal it, but luckily couldn’t. Dumbasses. Instead, they grabbed everything they could find.
Guess where the kids’ Christmas presents were hiding.
Go ahead, guess!
If you said the trunk, you get a cookie. Which is about all I’ll now be able to afford. They also ran off with my husband’s iPhone and Apple laptop and while not having the iPhone is an inconvenience, the presents are just infuriating. What kind of lowlife scum steals children’s Christmas presents?
I know it’s silly to blame a month, but I had high hopes for us, December. There’s a lot I like about you. I thought you liked me. I don’t understand why you’ve been so unkind. I think it’s time for an apology, don’t you? I’ll be waiting for you to make it up to me.
Still waiting,
Me
December 03 2010
My son had his school picture retake day on Wednesday.
Yeah, it didn’t go so well, either.
Learning from past mistakes, I sent the money in his school folder early this time. I figured if his teacher had it, then it had to be turned in. Or, in any case, at least someone else would know it was there. Because 2 people working together to accomplish one measly goal is better than a forgetful 7 year old by himself.
When he came home the day before and told me his teacher took his order envelope and payment, I figured the plan was foolproof. I was going to get pictures this time! Let’s rejoice!
What I didn’t figure was that his teacher would go home sick the morning of picture day, without a word of my son’s order form to anyone. The substitute was clueless. When Jedi actually spoke up and inquired about his money, he said they told him that he didn’t need any.
What? Yes! Yes he does! Would you listen to the children! They sometimes know what they’re talking about! I would love free pictures, but I know that’s not how it works!
I’m flabbergasted. So once again, he got his picture taken for nothing. We fixed his hair and dressed him up for nothing. FOR NOTHING. Because we just like to have his picture taken for nothing in return, apparently. Really, a simple task like this should not be this hard!
The school is supposed to find our order form from wherever the teacher hid it, who was still sick as of yesterday, and send it along to its proper destination. Because it won’t be exactly how I want, but right now anything is better than nothing. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if that gets messed up, too.
