Frustrations on the Home Front

Since the last big bit of crap I got for my sarcasm and anxt, I have been pretty much keeping my opinion and complaints about life to myself…

Sometimes, venting (even if it’s just to blow off steam and really means nothing to anyone but me) can backfire… literally.

Whatever.  I’m just as full of sarcasm and anxt and pretty much miserable with life in this house.  All I can say is choose carefully before you make a big, fat, wrong life choice like getting married. 

I mean there are ALOT of factors involved in compatibility, and people should really pay attention to those factors.  Unlike yours truly.

TOLERATION OF THE SPOUSE’S SPAWNS.

I can’t tolerate his daughter.  She is horrible.  She won’t work and try to support herself.  She moves out. She moves back in. She moves out. She moves back in.  She steals from us, and when I say steal, she wiped him out.  She lies and denies.  She’s lazy. 

And at this point, toleration isn’t anything I can make myself feel.  I look over at her and I get angry.  I hear her voice and I cringe.  I see her eating and it makes me sick.  That’s all the girl does is eat, sit, sleep and run the roads.  God forbid she get a job.  God forbid she try to buy her own shampoo, soap, hair dryer. 

Why work when Daddy will keep letting her go in my room and use my things.

TRUE COMMONALITIES… NOT FAKE ONES

When me & Big T were just dating, he played himself to be a real family man.  He played himself off as someone who enjoys being around friends and interacting with people.  Yah, not so much. 

It is so easy for someone to fake someone else out when they aren’t together 24/7.  This man doesn’t do anything.  Nothing.  He sits on the couch and smokes cigarettes. 

Chain smoker.  Now, don’t get me wrong.  I smoke.  But it’s a pack every couple of days. Sometimes less.  This man goes through a carton of smokes in three or four days.  He’s not the healthiest person to begin with, but at this point, his health is his problem.  He doesn’t care, why should I?  But, my house SMELLS SO BAD.  And it’s impossible to get the stink out.   

He is lazy as his daughter and son.  He sits all day and the stupid dogs, which nobody wants to take out when I’m not home, apparently pee somewhere in this house.  I don’t see it, but I can smell it and it disgusts me.

I’m a neat freak and there is no way for me to live the way I want to in this house.  I work 55 or more hours a week.  None of these people that live in this house work.. or do house work.  I come home to dirty dishes pile high in the sink.  I come home to cook after I clean the kitchen and then I clean it again.  I have to dust and vacuum.  I have to scrub the toilets.  God forbid any of them do anything around here.

SEX – What the hell is that?  After four years of marriage, I do believe I could be certified as a re-confirmed virgin, and that my friends isn’t by choice.

What to do??

Duct Tape, Ditchin Class & Kickin Ass

Yah.  So, there’s only two week of summer vacation left for the kids and you know what…. I couldn’t be more thankful. 

The teenage mutants are on my very last nerve and if I had more than just a few weeks left, I fear I would be purchasing major stock in duct tape and doing some taping of mouths and hands and shoving said mutants in a damn closet with only an hour outside to walk circles in the front yard per day and maybe some kibble here and there.

Normally, only one of these people goes completely asshat on me at a time.

But. This isn’t normally and I’m ready to choke them.

If they make it to their 18th birthday’s, they will be lucky children.

I’ve decided to do what it says on the aspirin bottle: Take two and keep away from children.

I’m hiding downstairs in the lair right now, so as to avoid contact.

I got a call from the guidance councelor at Miss A’s school today.  Summer school.  She’s doing classes electively so as she might graduate early.

Right.   Not gonna happen.  The girl has taken to ditching summer school. It’s not enough just to ditch during the regular school year.

Can somebody please tell me why the girl has even signed up for un-necessary summer school just to ditch???  So, I’m gonna kick her ass for that.  I’ve decided.

You may have grown old, but you may not have grown up. They boy is the king of making sure everybody knows he’s 17.  Whooo, 17 ??  Ya don’t say.  Then why in the world does he bow up everytime I ask his lazy ass to do something?  Anybody?

When asked to do a few dishes, he slammed them around in the sink, apparently trying to break the pots and pans.

When asked to vacuum, avoidance is his way out.

Damn!

If you need time alone, just start cleaning the house. I’ve decided the best way to get those people to leave me alone when I’m about to snap is to pick up a dust rag and start dusting.

I swear to God, they scatter like cockroaches on a filthy kitchen countertop when the light is suddenly turned on in the middle of the night.

The teenager lost a contact lens while playing basketball in his driveway. After a fruitless search, he told his mother the lens was no where to be found.
Undaunted, she went outside and in a few minutes returned with the lens in her hand.
“How did you manage to find it, Mom?” the teenager asked.
“We weren’t looking for the same thing,” she replied. “You were looking for a small piece of plastic. I was looking for $150.”

Why is it that kids have no clue about money.  Well, they have a clue about money when they want some, but when it comes to replacement of something expensive….

Texas Instruments T85 calculator.  This thing does everything but sort and fold laundry.  $119.00.

These people have already been through 3 of them.

It’s not like I can get away with not replacing them either, since math isn’t math anymore and they MUST have this calculator of rocket science in order to even take math classes now.

And cell phones.  The boy has been through 3 in less than 2 years.  He tosses it around, drops it, totally abuses it… and then wanks to high heaven that “it just don’t work anymore”.

Anyway, I just needed to rant before I had a real cow and duct taped them and ended up on America’s Most Wanted for being a horrible mother.

Are there any other kids out there that just go asshat for no reason????

Does anybody have any answers?? Advice??  Xanax???  Wine????

*******************************************

I’ve been out whoring on Blogger’s Lane again and found me some new places to visit regularly.  Check ’em out if you don’t already. 

Vinomom.  A lush like me.

Holy Crappers.  A couple of sisters who are lushes like me with lovely Tuesday posts and dripping with sarcasm.

Sully Sullivan.  Sarcasm a-plenty. Plus the fact that he pissed off Google ads (it’s ok, honey).

 

So Let It Be Written, So Let It Be Done

So,  yah, I’m jacking somebody else’s idea again.

Midgetman from Mental Poo (and his wife) 

&

my pervy gal at Preposterous Ponderings

issued their 10 Commandments that the world would have to submit to

or spend eternity in hell.

Every one of them made perfect sense.   Go figure.

My commandments shall be aimed at those pimply faced, emotionally distressed  teenagers that are plaguing my life presently   who are in need of some guidance.

These are the people who are effectively making me wish for large doses of Xanax and earplugs.

********************

#1 ~ Thou shalt not argue with me.

Arguing with me is not a good idea.

I’m always right because I’m the Mom and I say so. 

Which mean you’ll always be wrong.

You are wasting your time trying to plead your case.

Why?  Because I don’t really care what your excuses are.

Why you should be allowed to do something that I don’t feel is acceptable??

It’s my way  or you can stay in your room until Jesus comes back for all I care.

********************

#2 ~ Thou Shalt not Attempt to be Sneaky

Trust me, here.

I bust you doing shit all the time and I’m not even trying.

Look chances are you’re gonna get caught.

So why bother doing it?

Kids today don’t seem to be bright enough to be sneaky to begin with.

I used to sneak out, ditch school, smoke and drink cold beer.

I never got caught. 

Your generation is just not as smart as ours was.

********************

#3 ~ Thou Shalt Go To School & Deal With It

Sorry. School is the most important thing you’ll ever do. 

You should charish all of the memories you’re making now while you can.

School is the best  time in your life…

Get up, get dressed and quit pretending you’re sick.

We both know all that is bullshit, but you’re going anyway.

*************************

#4 ~ Thou Shalt NOT Act Like You Don’t Know What I’m Talking About

When I ask you for your report card, don’t say “huh?”.

Pretty simple.  It’s come every six weeks for the last 11 school years.

When I ask you if you did your chores…  don’t say “huh?”.

Don’t act like you don’t understand that cleaning the livingroom entails BOTH dusting the furniture AND vaccuming the carpet.

When I ask you why you need lunch money after I’ve already given you money for the whole week… don’t say “huh?”.

You know exactly what I’m talking about. Answer the question, let’s go on.

************************

#5 ~ Thou Shalt Adopt Better Bathroom Habits

Please, boys & girls.

Flush after you go, twice if you need to.

There’s a can of Lysol under the sink.  Use it.

Wipe up the water from around the sink after you brush your teeth.

Pick up your towels out of the floor.

Again, is it so hard to flush your dinglesberries?

************************

#6 Thou Shalt Not Fart Anywhere Near Me

No kidding.

It’s not as funny as you think it is.

You smell up my car when you’re in it, nasty.

Worse than that, there is no escape from it.

Why you find the smell of your own shit so amusing is so beyond me.

I’m sitting across the room and I’m about to puke.

Have some pride.

************************

#7 ~ Thou shalt knock on the door before entering. 

Seriously, fucking knock.

How many times do you need to be told that it’s my bedroom,???

I might be naked or having wild monkey sex (pft, right) or watching porn.

Actually, that’s exactly what happened Sunday afternoon. 

THE BOY, who is apparently mentally challenged or just plain stupid, continues to think it’s ok to just  bust into the room whenever he wants. 

Just so happened, Big T was gonna take one for the team (team = me) and hit it.

It was all good and things were starting to happen, when we hear him coming and he wasn’t showing signs of stopping.

Big T told him to get lost, but it was too late. 

I couldn’t think about having an orgasm anymore because in the back of my psyche I was listening for that asshat to come back.

It’s not that hard, knock on the  door before you bust in.

********************

#8 ~ Thou Shalt Not Even Think About Asking Me For Money

As previously discussed, you people act lame and don’t do your chores.

You expect that if you ask, Mom will come through.

Well, not anymore boys & girls!

Why in this world do you think I just want to work all week so I can give you money to go to the mall or to see a movie or whatttever.

As Janet said… “What have you done for me lately????”

 Til you do your shit, consider this bank closed.

************************

#9 ~ Thou Shalt Close Your Door When Your Music Is On

Not that your music is so bad.

Just some of it.

And not everybody in the house thinks it’s as cool as you do.

You wanna listen to it?

Feel free, use earplugs… close your door…

*********************

#10 I’m Not Mean, You’re Just a Sissy

I mean this in the nicest way.

But, Lil T, the two year old, acts more grown up than you.

You pout.

You cry when you don’t get to do what you want.

Not everybody is out to get you.

The world doesn’t revolve around your being and what you want.

Nope.

Get used to it, live it, learn it, be it.

************************

In closing, this is how it’s gonna be, kids.

I’m not opposed to grounding you, taking your cell phone & ethernet cable.

You people will learn to behave (at least when you’re around me).

 

 

Happy Birthday Gramma!

My Grandmother turned a ripe 82 on Monday.

Happy Birthday to the woman who raised me. The one who taught me how to cook. The one who loved me no matter how bad I had screwed up. The one who thought I did no wrong.

The family got together and had her a ho-down on Sunday afternoon.

She doesn’t know it or realize it, but she did. The doctors say Gramma has Alzheimer’s, and that it is in the “dementia” stage.

Whatever. As long as she can eat and have a good time with us, they can call it whatever they want to. She’s still as sassy as she ever was. She just gets confused now and then.

She has never failed to recognize me or remember who I am both in person and on the phone. She forgets that my Nat (oldest daughter) is mine. And she is totally blows her away that Lil T belongs to Nat, not me.

Anyhoo. We brought Gramma a really cutsie foo foo pill box back from Germany when I was over there in October. It was in a bag from the little German store, which had writing in…. you guessed it… German.

So, Sunday we all get together, as we do every Sunday, but this week we have a special dinner and birthday cake for Gramma.

I walked in the door to find her sitting there staring at the cake.

“Who’s birthday is it, honey?” She asked me as she hugged me.

“It’s yours Gramma. It’s your birthday! Cool, huh?” I tell her.

“I’m 82?” She asked referring to the candles.

“Yep. Ain’t nobody that old, Gramma.” I told her as I gave her the bag with the pill box in it. “Look it. I brought you something back from Germany for your birthday.”

She was clearly taken aback by the writing on the bag that wasn’t in English.

“Honey, what does this say?” She asked.

“Gooberstankin.” I tell her all serious.

*blink*

“Gooberstankin. Come on Gramma, say it and you’ll be speakin German. Gooberstankin.”

Well, she ignored me and opened the bag. But Nat didn’t ignore me, she was listening the whole time.

“Mom? What’s gooberstankin?” She asked all sincere.

“You’re kidding, right?” I forget sometimes how naive and silly my kid is.

“No. What does it mean?” She asked again.

“Nat, baby. Mommy was making up a word that sounded German. Goober-stankin. Get it?”

“No. I don’t get it.” Bless her heart.

“You know. A dude has a goober. And stankin is just stankin. You put them together and you have a word that sounds German.” I tell her.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!” She gets it, “You were just trying to get Gramma to say goober… I get it.”

That child of mine, bless her little heart, is a dork.

Gramma never did say gooberstankin. I tried all damn day to get her to say it.

Gramma blows out the candles…

Gramma sucks the icing off of the candles (the original pirate)

The Love of a Sarcastic Mother

I was sitting in my office today when a friend of mine sent me a text message on my phone that had little hearts and said “I love you”. At the bottom it instructed me to send it on to all of my friends. So, I did. I sent that bad boy to everybody, including my teenaged boy, who hates that kind of crap.

About 20 minutes later, my phone rang.

“Hola!” I answered. I have caller ID so I knew it was my boy, Matt.

“Hey! Guess what!!!!” He said, all giddy and excited like.

“Uh… what?” I played along.

“My phone’s workin!!!” He exclaimed.

You see my boy has a really bad habit of tossing, flipping, pitching his phone..(along with other various forms of abuse). About two weeks ago, the phone, in an act of ultimate retribution, just up and quit working. He could still send and receive text messages, but not talky talky.

“No shit?!?!” I get giddy with him. “You mean the phone you called me from works?!?!?”

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” he retorts. “But I wanted to let you know.”

“Well, very cool, baby. I’m glad its workin.” I tell him.

And I am genuinely glad it’s working because he’s been on an “I want a new phone” kick for about 2 months now. So right at this second, he’s thrilled to have one he can speak into and hear from.

Then it hits me that he’s calling from school, because I can hear all the chatter of teenaged boys in the background. So I ask him, “Why the hell are you in school?”

“Cuz we’re rednecks and apparently we don’t vote up here.” He says as serious as can be.

“Did you get my text message?” I ask him all lovey dovey.

“Yah. Yah.” He says trying to put me off like teenage boys do when they are confronted with the “L” word.

“Well? Do you love me, dammit?” I push out of sheer enjoyment knowing he was squirming in front of his buddies.

“Come on, Matthew. You can say it.” I prod.

“Oh, God.” He said. “I gotta go.”

“Fine. Love you.” I tell him. He knows I really do love him.

“Ya. Ya. Bye.” He said and hung up. I’m pretty sure his eyes were rolling in back of his head too.

That’s ok. He has to come home sometime.

Jerry Springer Ain’t Got Shit

Welcome friends and neighbors. I blog because the kinda shit my friends and family do out ranks Jerry Springer any day of the week.

I’m a 30-something newlywed and mom of 2 chicklets, a 2 year old grandson and a kitty with a personality disorder.

Now added to my menu is my man, a boy, a girl and a dog to add to the above listed…
We’s like the Brady Bunch, just a big ol’ disfunctional family with shit stirrin all the time.