Okay, someone finally snapped me out of my zombie state. Thank you Anonymous Commentator! The comment was,
"Gee,
where'd you go? Lean too far to the right and fall over?"
Yes, you --and specifically not my husband--gave me my first smile of the morning.
Life's been hectic here and I made a conscious decision to concentrate more on my kids and life and less on blogging. It can be addicting you know. I think what really put it over the edge was the fact that I am playing single mom for something like 5 1/2 weeks.
My God, it feels like we are in the Army again! Yep, bastard husband abandoned me for his stinking job. Okay, given that job does pay the mortgage, but fuck-almighty-Monday through Friday from late January through the first week of March seems a bit excessive. Yes, he does come home for week-ends, but that doesn't help me on the mid-week days when I have lost my sanity screaming at my kids to behave, with no one to back me up. I actually lost my voice screaming in my SUV at 70 miles per hour on I-90 at my rebellious progeny. I took up using a soccer whistle to get their attention over the cacophony of whining, screaming for the sheer joy of screaming, and talking back. No joke!
It also doesn't help with the amazing time conflicts of
pre-school, AM swim practice, PTA Board meetings, extracurriculars, coop
pre-school volunteering and early start elementary school (notice none of these activities are for me)--usually we divide these and conquer. Yes, we are an over-scheduled family, but our schedule has been based on my husband working from home to help out getting two kids moving in opposite directions or saving smallest child from terminal boredom (and subsequent tears)rather than dragging him along to do nothing for hours at every practice. Lately, I am always really late (as opposed to being constantly only slightly late). I am so sick of constantly apologizing for being 15 minutes late here and 20 there.
The best however was that my husband was at a conference in the fucking wine country at a
spa on Valentine's Day--actually the whole week. Due to an incredibly insensitive, but nameless higher up, spouses were specifically NOT invited.
Anyhoo, CG called me to
boo-hoo how the schedule was so long. It turns out he also got a $65 haircut there (It's been over a year since I've gotten a haircut that wasn't me hacking in despair at my own hair --much less a $65 one from someone named
Rudolpho). How about the the
freakin' Nazi interment camp with your three kids, two dogs, way too much to do, and no time?! I am working on 4 hours sleep a night, breaking out with acne
reminiscent of age 12 from the stress, dealing with car problems, and we've been eating peanut butter sandwiches or fast food at 1 hour past bedtime every night because there is no time to shop or cook, and you don't like your
hotel room?!? I believe I killed at least 3 bottles of wine that week alone trying to decompress at the end of the day when the kids finally fell asleep. Then it kills me to read in his blog how he left early to "decompress" from work at 5 PM to have drinks and dinner in a cute former Bordello with friends or how he
Yelped about time spent in Baltimore at a cozy cafe because he had the afternoon to kill.
All of this coincided with my eldest having two book reports, a ridiculously time consuming Explorer project (poster with tea stained paper, burnt pages, hand drawn
portraits and an essay, bibliography, and eight minute oral report) and deadlines for the required science fair--all that the same time. Let's not forget Valentine's Day parties to coordinate for classrooms, 2 school concerts--one with required costume, a really belated (6 months late) birthday party at the swim pool for TWENTY-ONE 5
th graders, and three swim meets taking up the entire weekends when CG is home. The best yet was when I realized my husband was working today on President's Day, when all three kids are off. I start raging about his job when it turns out that he was the clod that scheduled this week on yet another holiday.
Yep, I have been feeling a little brittle, and whining on my blog has been the last thing on my mind. But since you asked...
No, I think I fell backwards to the fifties with non-
existent help from my husband who comes back horny and groping-like and thinks that yelling at the kids over their table manner, washing HIS car, and doing HIS laundry over the weekend just to pack it up again on Sunday night makes up for it all. Yes dears, I've fallen and can't get up. Yep, just a tad bitter right now. Oh, I forgot the best part. When he is here, he spends time wrapped up in a
Internet game of
Risk with work buddies he just spent the week with or
Yelping about his
experiences and hotel reviews. Would it kill him to fertilize the lawn? Clean out the garage? Pick up the pile of stuff that covers the surfaces of his side of the bedroom? Would it kill him while eating out nightly and
having cocktails in the company of adults to NOT complain about the amount I spent at Costco buying wine to medicate, convenience foods to eat while he is gone, gasoline to ferry your kids in a SUV that gets 12 MPH, roses weekly for me because I fucking deserve them, and yes, a few impulse purchases for the house? Yes, it was $1700 in a month, but honey, deal with it! Shall we compare your expense report to my spending for four? You don't want to go there!
Okay, rant over.
