I didn't think I had any guests. It is a little late, please excuse my appearance. I was in the middle of my toilette. No mind, have a seat. Can I get you something? Well I am having a glass of Pinot Noir, does that sound good? Perfect!
What brings you out at this time? Couldn't sleep? Me either. My week has been stressful. Not as bad as yours, I am sure. No one can do what you do and still live to tell about it! My week? Oh, you are a dear for asking. I am just going through the same problems with my mother. She called this morning. Out of the blue. I haven't heard from her on over a week. It seemed to have come out of nowhere! I was hoping I wouldn't hear from her in a while. I answered the phone. She asked what was wrong, and thinking that was my opening to tell her, silly me, I went into the problem I had with her, my brother,his terribly behaved children and his newly estranged wife. As predicted, she took their side, told me I was wrong, I don't go about things the proper way, blah, blah, blah! Oh, dear me! I see I have bored you half to death. I really should start putting in description when talking of these problems.
Long story short, I explained I cannot attend anymore family functions that his child will be at until his child learned to keep her hands, feet, and any object used for a projectile, to herself. This didn't go over too well. Apparently, I am supposed to just take what the child dishes out, never say a word and go home to never repeat the incident again. I am also supposed to teach my child this rule of thumb. Well, we all know how that went over. How dare I stand up for myself! They liked me better when I was weak and mute about the children's behavior. How dare I! I am such a bad daughter.
Well, thank you for letting me get that off my chest. I am going to take a sleeping pill and try to sleep a few hours before dawn.
Good night my lovelies!
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Friday, August 20, 2010
A Few Things About My Morning
Many of you ask, "Mommy, what exactly do you do all day?" Let me explain my routine to my dear gentle readers. I usually wake-up around 8:30a, it is summer after all, to my 5 year-old trying to serve me breakfast in bed. I know what you are thinking, "Awwwww! How cute is that?!". On the breakfast tray is a gorgeous can of cold, frosty, Diet Coke, that has been dropped twice. Having neglected to let me know this information, I look lovingly at my darling child, issue words of praise and love and proceed to open the can and drench myself and the bed in brown liquid. Now that I am awake, I jump out of bed to scramble for a towel. "Where's the towel darling?", "What towel Mommy?". I find the towel, dry the mess and proceed to strip the sheets off of the bed while remarkably not once breaking my loving smile and words of encouragement. I am trying to raise a daughter with an ounce of self-esteem, unlike how my mother in all her wisdom felt I should be raised.
Crisis contained and now we are one hour into the day.
I head to the bathroom for my morning ablution. No sooner do I pick up my toothbrush when I am assaulted by a little voice letting me know I need to floss as well. I am then commanded to scoot over as my child drags her stool into the bathroom and firmly plants it on my foot. After letting out a slight whimper I smile at her and tell her to try and be careful and praise her for taking the initiative in brushing her teeth.
No sooner are the teeth cleaned, then the "I'm hungries" start.
"What do you want for breakfast"?
"I don't know".
"How about cereal?"
No chance of that, couldn't get off easy with toast either. She wants an egg and since I haven't made her an egg in a while, I am obliged to whip one up. She wants to help. "Of course honey, can you get me the pan?", "No, I want to crack the eggs". I hold my breath and hand her the egg. After cleaning the egg and its shell off the floor, the counter and the refrigerator, I tell her mommy will help with this egg. She agrees and relents all duties from there on out to me. I take the butter out of the refrigerator and as soon as she hears that door open she asks, "can you turn the television on for me?". Of course I can, this giving me the 15 minutes I need to prepare her meal. I turn on said T.V., get back to the kitchen and pull a pan out when I hear, "Mommy? Can I have a drink? Bubble water please". I grab a glass but since I failed to respond to the question I am now having it repeated. "Yes, I am getting you bubble water". I get the bottle, poor it in the glass and hear; "May I please have some bubble water?' "Darling, didn't you hear me when I said I was getting you a glass? Please don't repeat it again". I bring the drink to my daughter, head back into the kitchen and quickly finish her "birds nest" breakfast. I present the breakfast along with accompanying utensils and napkins and with a final cutting of her meal, by me, I am now free to go into the kitchen and clean the dishes. My daughter finishes her meal, brings her plate to the kitchen, more praises and smiles, and I love yous for her help and clearing her plate, and on to drying the dishes. I ask if she wants to help, no such chance, Dora is on and that show is too important to miss. I secretly wish Dora and her compadres would get lost in the forest forever so I never have to hear that theme song again.
Needing just 5 minutes of peace and quiet, I grab my new issue of Vanity Fair and head to the toilet. I sit down, open the magazine to a random page and settle in for a quick read when there is knocking coming from the other side of the door.
"I am in the restroom, honey"
"That's okay, I found the scissors, I was looking for the dog"
Coming to realization that I will not have that 5 minutes of peace and quiet, I stand up, deposit my Vanity Fair in its rightful place of honor next to the toilet and find out what my child meant by "giving the dog a haircut".
After explaining why cutting the dog's hair is wrong then finding the dog to calm him down with love and a dose of doggie Valium, while wondering if it is safe for humans. I check the wash from the morning and come to the realization that I forgot to turn on the machine. I am now 3 hours into my day and I can honestly say, I haven't done a thing.
Oh this charmed life I lead. How did I get here?
Crisis contained and now we are one hour into the day.
I head to the bathroom for my morning ablution. No sooner do I pick up my toothbrush when I am assaulted by a little voice letting me know I need to floss as well. I am then commanded to scoot over as my child drags her stool into the bathroom and firmly plants it on my foot. After letting out a slight whimper I smile at her and tell her to try and be careful and praise her for taking the initiative in brushing her teeth.
No sooner are the teeth cleaned, then the "I'm hungries" start.
"What do you want for breakfast"?
"I don't know".
"How about cereal?"
No chance of that, couldn't get off easy with toast either. She wants an egg and since I haven't made her an egg in a while, I am obliged to whip one up. She wants to help. "Of course honey, can you get me the pan?", "No, I want to crack the eggs". I hold my breath and hand her the egg. After cleaning the egg and its shell off the floor, the counter and the refrigerator, I tell her mommy will help with this egg. She agrees and relents all duties from there on out to me. I take the butter out of the refrigerator and as soon as she hears that door open she asks, "can you turn the television on for me?". Of course I can, this giving me the 15 minutes I need to prepare her meal. I turn on said T.V., get back to the kitchen and pull a pan out when I hear, "Mommy? Can I have a drink? Bubble water please". I grab a glass but since I failed to respond to the question I am now having it repeated. "Yes, I am getting you bubble water". I get the bottle, poor it in the glass and hear; "May I please have some bubble water?' "Darling, didn't you hear me when I said I was getting you a glass? Please don't repeat it again". I bring the drink to my daughter, head back into the kitchen and quickly finish her "birds nest" breakfast. I present the breakfast along with accompanying utensils and napkins and with a final cutting of her meal, by me, I am now free to go into the kitchen and clean the dishes. My daughter finishes her meal, brings her plate to the kitchen, more praises and smiles, and I love yous for her help and clearing her plate, and on to drying the dishes. I ask if she wants to help, no such chance, Dora is on and that show is too important to miss. I secretly wish Dora and her compadres would get lost in the forest forever so I never have to hear that theme song again.
Needing just 5 minutes of peace and quiet, I grab my new issue of Vanity Fair and head to the toilet. I sit down, open the magazine to a random page and settle in for a quick read when there is knocking coming from the other side of the door.
"I am in the restroom, honey"
"That's okay, I found the scissors, I was looking for the dog"
Coming to realization that I will not have that 5 minutes of peace and quiet, I stand up, deposit my Vanity Fair in its rightful place of honor next to the toilet and find out what my child meant by "giving the dog a haircut".
After explaining why cutting the dog's hair is wrong then finding the dog to calm him down with love and a dose of doggie Valium, while wondering if it is safe for humans. I check the wash from the morning and come to the realization that I forgot to turn on the machine. I am now 3 hours into my day and I can honestly say, I haven't done a thing.
Oh this charmed life I lead. How did I get here?
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Hello and Welcome
Hello and welcome to my home. Please make yourself at home. Don't mind the mess, my cleaning lady had the week off. Okay, you caught me, she had some sort of family emergency, something to do with melted plastic and her dog. I don't know, I wasn't listening. Anyway, the place is a mess. I am not much of a cleaner, but not in a Hoarders type of way. At least I don't think. Maybe that's why I haven't seen the cleaning lady lately? Never mind. What was I talking about? Oh yes! Welcome. Stick around if you want, make comments, but please don't get too comfortable. I need you to go home at some point. I have work to do. Not work I get paid for, but it isn't like I do nothing all day, although my husband seems to think that. Relax, grab a drink (preferably alcoholic), and read the tales that are all from my seemingly average, boring life.
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