Monday, June 17, 2013

Today's Complaints

Here's what I want to complain about:

My computer died, so I have to go back and edit work I already edited. I also have to reorganize files. Thirty plus hours of work I lost. Mike hadn't backed up the computer since April!

My son is on summer vacation and the shift in his sleep has him staying up until, well, now. He's crabby and I'm sure the reason he's still awake is that we let him stay up an extra hour. He's on the couch whining and groaning now because I won't let him turn the TV on. Fuck the TV.

My arms and sides hurt where I was trying to show Nick how to hang from and bounce on a dead tree. I was trying to distract him from the agonizing complaining he was doing because I was making him hike on a beautiful Sunday afternoon.

Tomorrow, because Nick is going to be sleep deprived and I'm sore, will be a TV day. Fuck the TV.

Nick's best friend is in Hawaii. I want to be in Hawaii and right now I hate anyone who is in Hawaii or any place like it, unless I get to go some time in the next year.

Mike still hasn't given me a Mother's Day present. And I got socks and a bulletin board for my birthday. I want to go to Hawaii for my birthday and Mother's Day. One trip to cover both holidays will do.

I'm going to have to back up my own files from now on. I don't want to have to bother. I want Mike to do it.

I have three bug bites. I know exactly where they are, but I don't want to have to get up and put goop on them. I'll probably wake up at 2:46 am when they begin to itch even more.

My skin is dry and starting to wrinkle so a suntan no longer looks good on me. Besides, I just finished with this medicine to get rid of budding skin cancer. I really shouldn't have been in the sun the last couple of days, but it was too hot and sticky to put on sunscreen, so I got a little burned. I'm going to have to suck it up with this hot and sticky stuff.

I have an eyelash that's poking me in the eye and until I get up and look in the mirror, it's going to continue to poke me in the eye. It could be a dog hair, but either way it's poking me in the eye.

Nick is shifting around in an angry and impatient way on the couch, as if I'm the one who's causing problems. I hate when I know exactly the message he's trying to send based on his movements along. I'm interfering with his TV time. Fuck the TV.

I'm going to bed. I might feel better in the morning.

Thank you for listening, jules


Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Condensed Nagging

Whose idea was it to give kids three months off from work in the summer? I'm not ready. I don't have a plan. I don't think I'll be able to stand listening to the TV for that many hours and days on end. I won't know what to do with my teenager if the TV does go off. I don't want to have to plan events, push reading, go to the grocery store with a bored teenager, or nag for fourteen hours a day instead of six.

Turn off the TV!
Take out the garbage.
Pick up your dirty dishes.
Don't hiss at the dog. (Yes, the poor dog cringes when he does that just to get a reaction.)
Brush your teeth.
Take a shower.
Use deodorant.
Don't call people an idiot.
Treat people the way you want to be treated.
Be the change you want to see.
Get ready to go to karate.
Get ready to go to Scouts.
Get ready to go anywhere (even stuff he wants to do).
Don't complain when someone is helping you.
Treat people with respect even if you don't like them.
Treat me with respect even though I'm your mom.
No, I am not embarrassing you intentionally.
Get your own glass of water.
Run a load of laundry if you don't like how I do it.
If you tear up the couch (the chair, the table, the computer, the wall), you'll have to buy a new one with your own money, the money I give you every week for no reason in particular.
Please vacuum the stairs.
Do your part.
Be a contributing member of the family.
I am not your slave.
Clean up your own mess.
If the cat pukes and nobody but you sees it happen but you, you get to clean it up.
Put your stuff away.
Move those things off the floor so you can open the bottom drawer of your dresser.
If you want that stuff that's been lying on the floor of your room for the past four months, you'll pick it up. Now.
Pick up your dirty clothes.
Get your dirty socks out of your karate bag. There are at least seven pair in there.
Don't leave your jock strap on the floor if you don't want the dog to roll on it.
If you wanted to keep that piece of paper, it shouldn't have been on the floor where the cat could chew it.
Why don't you read something?
Why don't you go outside for a while?
Why don't you practice your karate forms?
Why don't you build something?
Turn off the damn TV!

Don't ignore me when I'm talking to you.

Okay, I'm done saying 95% of what I'm going to say this summer. Can't I just print this up and give it to my boy and get back to reading my book?

Thank you for listening, jules

Friday, June 7, 2013

Plugged In

Oh man, I napped with ear plugs in because I was on on the other side of the house and I could still hear the boys screaming just because I gave them permission. They only have two days of school left for the year, the last Friday. I can tell. They haven't unplugged from their video game since they got home from school. They are no longer playing the game. They're just shooting at each other.

"Hey quit it."

"You killed me. I only freezed you."

"I'm only doing this because you were doing it to me."

"Stop doing it to me."

"You stop doing it to me first."

Okay, they can stay plugged in for a couple of weeks, but then things will have to change. They will. Right? Won't I need to step in?

Even their teachers are done. They're watching movies at school. Movies. Not just one movie, but more than one. School of Rock. Titans. Are these movies redeeming in some way?

Don't get me wrong. I get it. I'm tired too. At the beginning of the year, I was all gung-ho. I volunteered to work in the library. I chaperoned at dances. I went on the field trips. I even volunteered at the old elementary school they'd outgrown. Big mistake. My window for leaving has passed and now I'm stuck there until I die. Today, at the end-of-year celebration, they told us they're going to send us an email in September. I don't want an email in September. I haven't checked my email in a week.

I wonder what's in store for dinner tonight? Oh crap. I'm the one who's supposed to figure that out. I'm sick of all the take-out options. Pizza. Teriyaki. Chinese. Roasted chicken. I'm tired of steamed mixed vegetables, cauliflower, green beans with garlic salt and Parmesan, salad greens with pepperoni and garbanzos, omelets with spinach and provolone. I'm sick of it all.

I want cheesecake, ice cream, thick sweet iced tea with infinite ice cubes. I want macaroni and cheese, pizza rolls, a juicy cheeseburger, and cherry pie. I want to eat all of the things I'm not supposed to have.

Wow! I can see in the reflection of the computer that one of the boys has unplugged himself from the video game controller. He's standing, unencumbered, stretching his arms above his head. He's walking! He's moving away from the stream of information! He's free!

Damn. He's in the toilet.

Thank you for listening, jules