Friday, February 22, 2013

Mommy is on the outskirts of crazyville.

Do you ever notice that as soon as mommy gets super pissed off that everything starts getting done? It's a miracle really, which is why maybe a  mommy should be President. You need someone who can scare the shit out of Congress to make anything happen.

It's been a stressful two weeks. Once again I've not only not taken anything off my plate, but I've instead added youth indoor soccer and swim lessons for the kids. I'll talk about the soccer (with pictures!) another day, and we don't start swimming until Monday so I'll probably have stories to tell you. So that means my time that I block off for reading for reviews and catching up on emails, paperwork, PTO stuff for Olivia's school, is dwindling to almost nothing. I'm stressed out, I'm getting tired much earlier than I ever used to, and I'm starting to lose my mouth filter. I'm not kidding- one of these days I'm just going to start shouting obscenities at people for no reason.

But I do a lot around the house, I'd even say as much as 80% of the housework, plus I cook dinner, I make sure the kid's have their homework done, I help them get organized for the next day, I take them to school, I run them to their activities, I keep on top of what's happening at said activities, and more. A lot more. More than I can even remember because I'm that overwhelmed. And I don't even ask for a lot of other people. I really don't. If I'm asking for help, it's because I have a twitchy eye and I'm stabby.

We don't need a stabby person with a twitchy eye.

So when we got our new bedroom furniture (pictures and report on that coming soon) LAST Friday, we had to do a huge furniture shuffle. Olivia got our old bed and my dresser, Jackson got Matt's dresser, their dressers came downstairs, side tables moved, etc. Then of course I have to go through and clean everyone's room and purge stuff because I'm crazy. And my dining room ends up looking like this:

I believe I've mentioned I'm crazy and I have a problem with clutter and mess. My dining room has been hoarder's paradise for oh... a FULL FUCKING WEEK. I can't even go in there. Matt promised to take it out last Saturday. 

And didn't. 

Every day since then, he's promised to take it out to the garage. 

And hasn't. 

Tonight, I lost it. Admittedly, throwing a pot of cheesy rice and broccoli was probably a poor choice of communication skills. But I think with me holding an empty pot with cheese sauce dripping down my arm and probably a twitchy eye, Matt all of a sudden decided right now is a super time to take it all out. 

And that's what pisses me off. 

Why do I have to get incredibly crazy ass angry for it to get someone to do something? Even the kids, who bitched every 15 minutes about being hungry so I'm furiously cooking supper while sorting through thousands of milk caps, box tops, and soup labels (fundraiser for Olivia's school), then refuse to eat when I get it done. 


Seriously. These are the times nobody tells you about motherhood and wedded bliss. There will be times where you hate your spouse and want to run away. 

This is one of those times. 


middle child said...

I will run away with you. Shall we take my car or yours?

middle child said...

Your comment on my post was amazing! It is as though I wrote it myself. Seriously. The exact things run through my head often. Thanks for..well...just thanks.

ComfyMom~Stacey said...

Matt's lucky you weren't cutting up vegetables or something. Throwing knives is much worse & can get you jail time.

But, jail time means you get a room to yourself or with just one roommate, meals you don't have cook or clean up after, someone else does the laundry... there are times when going to jail for a few months seems worth it to me. I let DH know when those times occur & that's when things get done around here.

Lin said...

I've been after my husband to take out the trash & pic up his side of the bedroom for weeks. Has it gotten done? Hell no.

No matter how many times I beg/nag him to do it he doesn't. It sucks & I hate that I have to act like his mom sometimes.