It’s that time…and I’ve been MIA, so I might have a lot to “confess”…if you do too, go ahead and link up with Glam over on her blog…she would greatly appreciate it, and you will feel a whole lot better, too!
Last weekend my Gram died. Although it was sad, and she will be greatly missed, I confess that I am happy she is in a better place. I am not kidding when I say I witnessed the stress leave her body as she comfortably passed from this life to the next. It was VISIBLE! After several years in a nursing facility where she received total care, as well as had extreme difficulty expressing herself verbally….well, I imagine right now she is talking up a storm! God Bless Her!!
I also confess that as she passed away I looked at her and thought…”Wow. Isn’t SHE the lucky one? SHE gets to see my Mom and my Grandpa and my late spouse….What more could she ask for?”
I confess that as Little Man puked for nearly a week, I totally did not act like the awesome Mom that I am, and I ran the other way when he would say, “BUCKKKKKK-ET!!!!” Yep….I don’t do puke. Sorry, Little Guy….I just couldn’t. Sorry I let it get on your shirt. Sorry I wanted to tilt your head backwards instead of forwards just so it would go back down instead of coming out. So, so sorry.
My heart broke for Little Man when I took him to the ER for IV fluids.
He was just so drained that I thought a bit of intravenous fluids might perk him up a bit. But…when they put the IV in and his crocodile tears ran down his cheeks…ohhhhh….that was tough! And when he looked at his arm and then looked at me and said,
“Is my arm hurt??”
Ohhh, I just wanted to hold my baby!! My poor little guy! He had no idea it was no longer ok to spurt liquid mess from his tushie or to upchuck every day….nope, this was not ok with the Mom….Sorry, Big Guy…
When the IV was done, Little Man yanked off his ID bracelet and promptly stated…
“I. Am. Done.”
Today when I was informed by my supervisor that the $400 I receive extra each month from them for “medical benefits” would no longer be available to me…Yeah, I pretty much wanted to commit a crime. A very BIG crime. WTF? The letter said they were trying to avoid taking this away for “at least the last 10 months”….WELLLLLLL……why now then? Why right before the holidays? WHYYYYY when they know my financial situation because THEY are the ones that have PUT me here??? First they cut down on my patient load. They said it would go back up and it hasn’t. Then this. When my spouse figured it out, they have cut me by nearly $20,000 for the year. Fuckers! And no, I am not sorry to say that. And so….as I look for another job, I dream of the day I leave that message for my current employer stating….
I. Am. Done.
WE had Chinese for dinner.
Yes, I am confessing that. Chinese is BAD. Yes it is. But it was damn good and my ankles and happily swelling as I type.
Anychowmein, the Teen didn’t like her chicken. Said it was “gross” and “mushy” and “disgusting”. The spouse got mad at her for being so opinionated as he was trying to eat his Egg Foo Yung. What was I doing? I was waiting on everyone….cuz this is apparently MY JOB. My food got cold. It tasted like shit. The toddlers didn’t like the rice. I made them pasta instead. Then the Teen needed pasta too. Then a big ordeal became of her not being able to find the basil because this is how she eats her pasta…buttered with basil.
The dinner ended with Lil Lady crying that her butt hurt because she did not wipe well enough, or maybe almost had an accident, or maybe…who the fuck knows. Her ass hurt and she needed a bath. The spouse does this and he needs to be praised for that at least. Yes, he is the official bath giver.
But tonight….yep…Little Man pooped in the tub. Bad news there is all I can say.
The Teen wanted to know what was going on in the bathroom. The spouse didn’t feel like explaining. The Teen doesn’t like when he doesn’t answer her. The spouse doesn’t like when the Teen feels she’s ENTITLED to his answer.
And on and on and FUCKING ON IT GOES!!
I made at least 10 trips clearing off the table. I washed the dishes. I put away the left-over Chinese that I will most likely throw in the trash next weekend. I read the spouse’s fortune from his cookie. I do not recall what it said. I read the Teen’s fortune…something about “having a heart of gold”….sweet, yes? Then I thought…where the fuck is MY cookie???
I got my cookie….as the Teen and the spouse continue to argue over every little thing…..
I really think…..
….this is the ONLY time my fortune cookie knew what the hell it was talking about!!
AND…I confess…this is the ONLY time I actually agreed with my fortune cookie! So…I am done trying to make the Teen and the Spouse like eachother. I confess…..
I. Am. Done.