moms

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How To Stress Out Your Mom…

Published May 19, 2016 by Angela

Stressed Mom 3

  1. Get a letter in the mail the high school sends in March, letting her know you are in danger of graduating.
  2. Do not let her see that letter, or mention anything about the above situation.
  3. Make her pay $250.00 for your cap, gown, and invitations.
  4. Make her spend $40.00 on stamps, and $80.00 on photos for the invitations.
  5. Make her find addresses and fill all of them out, and get them in the mail.
  6. Continue to NOT tell her there is a chance you are not graduating at all.
  7. Tell her on Monday, at 2 pm, that she has until 3 pm, that day, to pay $161.00 for your band camp bill, or you do not get to receive your diploma.
  8. Again; continue to NOT tell her there is a chance you are not graduating at all.
  9. Let your school counselor call her at work to tell her to get ahold of you and tell you to get to the school, or you are not graduating.
  10. WHAT???
  11. Tell your Mom you are doing your best, but you just do not think you can get it done in time.
  12. Again; do not mention the letter sent to her in March that you opened and disposed of.
  13. Let your Mom call the school counselor 2 hours later, and have the counselor tell Mommy that they sent a letter in March.
  14. Let your Mom find out that you have one more assignment to do, that has to be turned in that day, but you have to work that night.

Stressed Mom 4

I wish I could truly express the amount, and severity, of emotions I was going through for a couple days. But honestly, I would not wish that on my worst enemy. And I have a few.

She passed her class, and she will be graduating with the rest of her class.

And I will be so happy to have the graduation done, the open house finished, and I can go on my merry way, worrying about the 2 girls I still have at home….

UGH

 

Boy He’s Starting Early This Christmas Season…

Published December 2, 2014 by Angela

…with the phone calls, and questioning when he can get his girls for Christmas. My girls have been rotating the phone for the past 2 hours, taking turns talking to their dad. While I am struggling to get my 13 year old to sit down and focus on the homework she did not do during the day. Because she slept. So as I manage to get her to stay in front of the laptop for more than 2 seconds, this is what I hear…

Erin: “So, dad is going to talk to you, but he wants to know if he can pick us up on Christmas Eve?”

Me: “And when exactly would you like me to celebrate Christmas with you, since he is keeping you for the entire Christmas break?”

Erin: “I don’t know.”

Me: “He can get you early Christmas morning.”

Erin: “………..” (pouty-face-attitude-coming-for-me-within-the-next-day-or-so).

I do not know how many times he needs to be told to ASK ME before he tells the girls something is going to happen. Yes; I am being a bitch. Would you like to know why I am being a bitch?

Probably not. But I am going to tell you anyway.

1) He does not pay child support

2) He does not regularly visit his girls, unless if you consider once a year regular; if so, he is spot on!

3) He has not bought them (or even made them) one single Christmas gift in the past 5 years

4) He does not call them on their birthdays

5) He does not call them until it gets to be nearly Christmas

Now, I completely realize that the presents have NOTHING to do with the true meaning of Christmas. But when they come home from spending the holidays with him and tell me about all the video games and new things he has bought for himself, and they got nothing; yeah, I get pissed. When I had to drive last year for 4 hours in a blizzard with weather warnings to not be on the road because he suddenly had no way to get them home; yeah, I got pissed. So, he can do one of a few things. He can get them when I say he can. He can call his lawyer. Then we can go in front of the judge and he can explain his lack of father-participation in the upbringing of his girls. Or he can show up on Christmas Eve with the misunderstanding that he is taking his girls that early, and then hang out somewhere until Christmas morning.

I need my girls to enjoy their Christmas. In order for them to do this, I need to deal with these issues with their dad without getting them involved. I wish he would be as considerate of their feelings as well.

And This Is Exactly Why I Wish You Would Just Stay Away…

Published November 12, 2014 by Angela

…because since last Saturday, I have been asked, e-v-e-r-y  s-i-n-g-l-e  d-a-y “When is Dad coming to get us again?” “Is Dad going to get us for Christmas Break?” “Can you call Dad and see if he can go to my basketball game Saturday?” and it goes on-and-on-and-on.

Why does this bother me? Because he made a surprise appearance at my front door, 11 months to the day of the last time he saw his (MY) children. And now I get to deal with this. And the crying, and being upset, and brand new feelings of abandonment when he does not show up again for 11 months. And they were just starting to heal from the last time he did this.

So once again I get to pick up the broken pieces, and deal with the brunt of their anger because he is not around to take it.

Someone is not going to have a happy Christmas, and I guarantee you it will not be my children or myself. He is NOT going to break them again; they can only be put back together so many times before it becomes irreparable.

Sometimes the best thing you can do for your children is to just go away. And if you are someone who is reading this and angry about this post and feel I am being unfair to their “Father”, I am more than willing to post a 10,000 word blog on how he has wronged his children, over and over again. Not to even mention how he destroyed our marriage and relationships between my family members and myself in the process.

So as one of my favorite Motley Crue songs states…”Don’t go away mad, just go away.” Except in this case I could not care less if he is mad. I’ve been mad for 8 years at what he continues to do to avoid taking any responsibility for these girls.

Waking up To Silence…

Published June 17, 2014 by Angela

…there is nothing better. There are no words. I cannot recall the last time that I actually had the house to myself. With my oldest daughter (FINALLY) home after 6 weeks in South Africa, she has a week off from work to get back on the United States schedule 🙂

So she picked up her 3 younger sisters, took them to the beach for the day, to both of her Grandma’s houses, McDonald’s, and peace and quiet for Mom.

They are walking in the door right now, and the silence is no more.

But it was amazing having a couple of hours of no talking, no television, to fighting, and no asking me for anything.

Thanks Jess, you are the best! And can we do this again tomorrow?

What Say We Try This Again Tomorrow…

Published June 11, 2014 by Angela

… and this time, you do things the right way?

Monday seemed to go much smoother than today did with school being over. I pretty much had the house cleaned Monday morning before I went to bed, so my girls really did not have to do a lot to keep it clean when I got up.

Now, there are a lot of little things that tend to irk me, but I have gotten much better at not getting worked up “over the little stuff“. But one thing that I absolutely do NOT like, is having people in my house, while I am sleeping, and I don’t know about it. If you ask me first, more often than not I will say “O.K.” But to wake up at 3pm to house guests? Not happy.

Now, I live in a house full of girls. Well, except for the 2 boy cats and the boy rabbit. But they don’t mind. So, I will not hesitate to get up, trudge downstairs in my pajamas, and get a cup of coffee.

Coming downstairs in my pajamas, to find my 16 year olds’ boyfriend sitting on my couch, not cool. Not cool at all. I am not talking about Victoria Secret inappropriate sleepwear, but either way, my legs showing, and no bra on, is not appropriate for house guests. So, I had to turn around, go back up to my room, and get dressed. So I could get a cup of coffee.

I had to get dressed. In order to get a cup of coffee. In my own house. Really? Really. 😦

The house was a mess, and nothing was done. The first thing my 16 year old says to me: “I thought you weren’t getting up until 4?”

Yeah, like me sleeping an hour longer would have allowed for the house to be cleaned.

So, I got ready for my day, cooked dinner for my girls and said house guest, filled the dishwasher, had company for an hour, did homework, and now I am waiting to go to work.

I am also waiting to see how long it is going to take my 16 year old to tell me her boyfriend needs a ride home. Because she is going to. (That is something else that really, really irks me), having to take said uninvited house guests home.

And how was your day?

No, Please. Let Me Get That For You…

Published March 10, 2014 by Angela

…While you sit there and do absolutely nothing. Good Morning to me! Here’s a little tidbit about how my Tuesday is beginning…

I am so doing this tomorrow!

I am doing this tomorrow!

My alarm goes off at 4pm, ughh, I hit the snooze, only to turn the alarm off at 4:05 pm before it starts screaming at me again. I cannot stand the sound of an alarm clock.

As soon as I open my bedroom door, I hear from behind child #2’s bedroom door, “Mom, are you cooking dinner, I am starving?”

Me: “Could you let me get a cup of coffee please?” I head downstairs to child #3 laying on the couch, watching television, and child #4 eating a bag of popcorn. (Why are you eating in the living room? I ask you 10 times a day to not eat in the living room).

So, as I wait 30 seconds for my cup of coffee to brew (why did I give up Monster drinks?) I go in the basement and put my laundry in the dryer. It is now about 4:15 and I can get in the shower.

Showered, dressed, hair is blow-dried, lacking make-up and need more coffee. I get more coffee, and begin making a dinner that I am not going to eat.

Ridiatore pasta, spinach and parmesan sauce (yes, jarred), and homemade garlic toast. I empty the dishwasher while I am literally waiting for water to boil. It really does take longer when you watch it. 20 minutes later I tell 3 kids they can eat, to have child #4 ask “Mom, if my friend comes over while I am eating, can I go outside and play and I will eat later?”

“Um. No, you cannot.”

Kids fed, I can go finish getting ready for work. Everyone is done eating, the kitchen is a mess, and I get to take care of everything. Child #2 is back in her bedroom, child #3 is back on the couch, and child #4 is outside with her friend.

Where is child #1, you ask? She is a Junior in college and lives near her campus, which is not near me 😦 And if she was here, I would not be typing this post because she would have had dinner made, kids fed, and dishes taken care of before I even got out of bed (Love you Jess!)

Yes, I could yell at them (trust me, I do) and nag them to do their chores, clean the kitchen, etc. etc. But honestly, sometimes it is just easier for me and everyone else if I just do it myself. It gets done faster, and correctly the 1st time. And no, I am not an enabler of lazy children, they do take care of the things I expect them to, most of the time.

said no child of mine, EVER :-)

said no child of mine, EVER 🙂

So it’s on to cup of coffee #3, a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios and a banana Lucky Charms (I need the sugar rush), and time to do homework.

 

Yes, I really do love my girls more than anything, but some days, I just gotta share how ridiculous things can be around here 🙂

You Ate WHAT For Lunch?

Published November 21, 2013 by Angela

I can understand the cheeseburger that Erin fried up, even the scrambled eggs she had (hopefully for breakfast), but I cannot fathom what she did with the rest of ALL of my eggs that she hard-boiled. I am talking about an 18 pack of eggs. Let’s say she was really hungry (she is a growing 12-year-old) she could reasonably eat 3-4 scrambled eggs. I mean, we all know eggs shrink by ½ once they are scrambled, right? But what she did with the other 14 eggs that she says she hard-boiled is beyond me. She does not like egg-salad, or the egg yolks in boiled eggs, but she will eat deviled eggs. Yes, it makes no sense. But it is what it is.

I was actually more concerned that she possibly did eat an extraordinary amount of eggs, and was looking at her sideways all of last night for any excessive flushing of the face, or nausea, or anything else that would indicate she was having a protein/cholesterol overload.

What is even more scary, is that she did not eat all of these eggs, and they are still in my house, somewhere, and I will likely discover them a day past their “beyond ripe and smelling” expiration date.

So today, I am making her a PB & J sandwich, putting some chips in a bag, and apple and a yogurt, a couple small pieces of chocolate, and hoping she finds it sufficient and doesn’t decide to cook the turkey in my freezer for a snack between lunch and dinner.

I’m not kidding folks, I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried 🙂