Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Twix and Chicken Fries and some other stuff too.

Since I can’t seem to learn how to fart bullets – I’m going to type in bullets.


• Want to know what I’ve eaten for breakfast for the last three days? Would you also like to know whose fault it is? I shall tell you. Twix. Yup – the crunchy, caramel-y, ooey-gooey candy bar chock full of calories – for breakfast. And it’s Rambo’s fault. He thinks he’s some kind of super husband or something – wherein – almost daily he does something or brings me something home as a surprise. God love him right? Sure. Except when it’s a mother-f*cking candy bar – or 6 of them.

• Also – I thought I should let you know that my pee is neon and glow in the dark yellow. Because of the copius amounts of Mountain Dew I drink to wash down my Twix.

• I have adopted the government’s controversical “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy when it comes to Rambo and his prisoner armed escorts. It works quite well. He escorted some dangerous criminal somewhere yesterday with someone in some vehicle. I have no other info…because I didn’t ask – and I asked him not to tell me. Ignorance is some serious bliss people.

• Also – yesterday after the Twix and Mountain Dew – for lunch I ate a burger the size of Sheniqa’s ass. Followed by homemade fried chips. And just in case you’d like to throw something at me and hate the ground I walk on and the air I breathe – I’m still down 8 pounds. Fear not – tomorrow – I shall be up 10 pounds.

• I am taking applications for people who would like to do my hair each morning. It is lame and boring and takes too much time and makes me want to stomp on small bunnies and throw frogs at mirrors until they make a nasty “splat” sound like some born to be serial killer would do. Honestly – curling every single piece is almost worse than sticking pins in my own eyes. I mean – if in the end I turned out looking like some kind of supermodel – well then – I’d quit bitching…but that is not the case.

• Last night being the gourmet chef Betty Crocker kind of mother that I am – I chose to deep fry some chicken fries for my girls. Have you guys seen these things? They are fries with chicken in the middle. F*cking brilliant.

Anywhoozle – my oldest seriously throws a fit – she doesn’t want chicken. She would like us to order out pizza. I figure two can play this dramatic game so I say, “Would you like us to order pizza or make the mortgage payment? Would you like us to order pizza or get you school clothes?”

Little exaggeration there but still. EVERY night the girl wants to order out. She cries. She yells. She says she hates living here. Noone wants her. On and on we go.

I feel like a knife is stuck in my chest because I remember feeling that way as a child and I remember swearing I’d never make my kids feel the same way.

I tell Rambo I got this but not before he makes it very clear to her she is never to raise her voice to me – ever.

And then? I get an email from her. The subject line says, “I want to move out.”

The body says: I am not wanted here. You don’t have time for me. You don’t buy me snacks. You don’t hug me immediately. You go on your computer. You yell. I want to move in with my sitters. What do you think?

Well Holy Mother of Peter, John and Bart. I’ll tell you what I think.

My first thought is I’m a failure. I’m not breaking any cycles. I want to move out with you.

My second thought is OMG – this is because you have to eat chicken fries!!!!!!!!!!! Instead of take out pizza?????????

Did I raise you? Are you mine? Did my loins produce you?

You bet your ass I’m on the computer – I work three jobs and so does your Dad – to pay for the TV and computer and new room you just got. And your new school clothes and those 5 sports you’re in. Oh and remember fair night? And mini-vacations we take? And weekends at Jenny’s? And? And? And?

Please go live there. Because they buy you snacks.

And the reason they don’t yell? I guarantee you is only because you don’t live there. Give them a week or two and they’ll start yelling. They also aren’t on the computer all the time because they don’t have to work 3 jobs because they don’t have to support you. They just need enough money to buy you snacks.

Shitballs.

Someone stab me in the heart – I think it would have hurt less.

You can all tell me I’m doing the best I can – but the ache that email produced – will never ever go away. Even if it’s from a 10 year old who is mad about pizza. Even if I spent the rest of the night cuddled on the couch with her watching her favorite show.

Even if 10 minutes later she was happily eating an egg I made just for her …I won’t forget what she felt in that moment. And the fact that I caused those feelings.

One little email – from a 10 year old – and I find myself questioning everything I am, my choices, where I’m going and what I’m becoming.

It feels like that whole one step forward – two steps back kind of thing.

Oh and FYI – I did email her back and I did point out the events and items she conveniently forgets and I did say many times she is loved and wanted. I suppose I should be thankful she said anything to me – I never even spoke to mine.

• Lastly – I’m tired. Exhausted really. Dealing with a bit of insomnia. The fact is I’ve never slept well from the moment I married Rambo. He was over the road in a semi so I was alone or on third shift at the prison so I was alone with two baby girls….which meant I was always on alert and never sleeping. And I’m a worrier. My mind races. I can’t stop making lists and thinking and am even plagued by nightmares. And lately – I haven’t been sleeping which makes everything seem 50x worse than it is.

I guess it’s a poopy woopy day here. (For those of you about to tell me it could be that I’m shoving too many Twix and too much Mt. Dew into my body and that can’t be helping – um – please just shut up mmkkaayy?)

Ima go see if I can find Sunshine Care Bear and see if he’ll squeeze the shit out of me with a good ol fashioned bear hug…that oughta help right?

I mean if you get hugged by a Care Bear and you’re still grumpy – then you might as well just give up.

Tootles Skittles.

24 comments:

Robyn's Nest said...

Well, I am no Care Bear but ((hug)) anyway.
Daughters can hurt you like no one else in the world. But they also give us joy and pride like no one else in the world. I will never forget the first (and only time) my daughter told me she hated me. I cried so hard she never said it again. She is 24 now and she can still hurt me with a word, make me cry when she is sad, or make me want to burst with love and pride. Daughters!

Robyn's Nest said...

Oh, and throw the damn Twix bars away!

Jen said...

KIDS!
They want what they want.
My kids want to move in with YOU.
I think she just said what she knew would hurt you the most.
You are an amazing mom.

Bonnie said...

OMG.....I'm am living vicariously though you at this very moment....TWIX FOR BREAKFAST.....now those are Care Bears and Skittles all rolled into one for me......my absolute fav!!!

and Chicken Fries dipped in ranch or gravy.....my all time passion when I went to Bingo with the girls.....yes bingo, don't hate....I haven't been in years, that was the old, fat Bonnie

Stay strong with the daughter problems, if she's doing this shit at 10 I can't imagine what it will be like at 16. I had no advice as my son is 6 and I haven't even come close to that.....yet

vickyd said...

Kids definately fight dirty...they know EXACTLY what to say to make you feel like shit! Draz, you're a great Mom and those girls are lucky to have you!

...and, like Robyn said, throw the damn Twix bars away!!

Amanda said...

There are days when I'm glad I had only male children. Then I remember they know how to twist a knife as well as their XX counterparts...

Hugs, girl. And enjoy those Twix. I know I would.

Kelly said...

Sunshine Bear was always my favorite Care Bear for some reason. Isn't that funny? I've had pizza for breakfast, but never Twix. Gonna have to give that a whirl soon. =)

Rachellabelle - My Hips Don't Lie said...

Awww, Skittles Princess! She is just being a dramatic 10 year old. I'm sure you love her enough for 10 life times.

You should try some meditation tapes before bed. Or white noise. Or this new thing that puts blue light on your ceiling and then eventually fades away and you fall asleep. (I'm over simplifying it, but if you google "sleep devices" you might find it.) :)

MandaPanda said...

I so feel you on ALL of this. Hang in there sweetie!

Beth Ann said...

I sleep with a Care Bear. Friend Bear to be exact. I got my original one in 4th Grade and named him Deano. I was so glad they came out with them again about 5 years ago because Deano was starting to fray. This one's name is Deanie and she is a girl. I have another wrapped up on standby to pull out when Deanie falls apart in 2031.

Deanie would give you a hug if she were with you.

NIKIA said...

I have a 9 yr old Draz. I completely understand. I'm pretty sure you are doing a great job and most good mothers have fears of not being good. Keep up the good work and lay off the Twix. Lol!

Elizabeth said...

DAUGHTERS!!!! Hang in there!! I just got my 9 year old an email address so I am sure the email will come my way at some point.... Because I also frequently don't have snacks or serve something unwanted for dinner. I think they also have a strange sense of when to kick when we are down....

Joey said...

It's the lack of sleep! When I don't sleep well all I want to do is shove junk food in my mouth. I crave it BAD.

I have no kids....but I was one. They are dramatic AND they don't get the power their words have. I used to say "I hate you" like it was my job, now I couldn't even imagine saying that to my worst enemy!

Twix said...

....furthest thing from ooey, gooey...hee!!!hee!!! :D

Ice Queen said...

Kids. Can't live with them... Can't rent them out. lol

Twix rule. I think I had a memorygasm just reading about you shoving Twix down your throat.

In answer to your last post, I don't dare. Nor did she. *shrugs*

Cat said...

First. Twix rock the freaking planet and you should continue to enjoy ONE per day until they are gone. /nod

Second. I don't have kids, but I have to imagine some of the awful things I said to my mother in moments of fits that obviously I didn't mean, but I just felt so angry that I thought hurting her would make me feel better. It usually didn't. Yes, your 10 year old probably did mean it right at the moment she sent that email. But I betcha the thought didn't last that long, and this isn't a testament to you as a mom. Your kids are very lucky to have you and Rambo. Honestly these are life lessons that every young person needs to go through to become a successful adult. She will be an amazing adult because of you and Rambo...

Laura Belle said...

ohhhh, daughters. Even though I don't have one...yet...I was one, and I was HORRIBLE! Just wait till boys, cars, and more clothes are involved. Yikes!

Fast forward, she'll be a blissful and beautiful 20 year old and you guys will be besties and talk every day and the world will be right again.

It'll all work out Sunflower, but i'm sorry it's so poopy now.

Tina said...

I have a 10 year old..we had almost the exact disagreement last night. Only mine wrote by hand a note on paper from her bed where I sent her....hers said:

"I am sick of meat and vegetables for dinner and why don't you clean your own room."

I think we are getting the adolescent angries early..but hopefully they will be over with earlier too and we can enjoy the teens instead of pulling our hair out. This is daughter number 4 for me..it too shall pass :)

xxxooo

Miss April said...

I'm impressed that she emailed you. I have an 18 year old sister who just yells and stomps. She dare not email or Facebook me her melodrama; I want it on the real and she knows it - but still puts me and our Mother through it.

I want Twix for breakfast. I can't imagine how good that would be with a cup of coffee. Ugh, thanks a lot for that craving that will now be in the front of my brain for weeks....

Dizzy Girl said...

Eat a twix and drink a dew for me plz. My stomach still hurts from the McDonalds and 711 shit I ate.

Kristin50 said...

Oh Lord those TWIX should go I say! Go go away far away from you! But with that being said, for your daughter she will thank you later for being the kind of mom you sound like you are. Loving and caring and providing for her well being!

Hang in there lady!

Amy said...

<<<< HUGS >>>>

AutumnLeaves said...

The joys of raising daughters. I did it too. Still, it says something when even your pee glows.

Julie Harmon said...

Twix and Mountain Dew- who needs daughters? JK My wonderful little girl is 17 and doesn't like me much either. At least, your little one is communicating with you.
Hang in there...