Mrs. Flinger

WednesdayMay, 05, 2010

Mommy Time Out

I’m sitting in mommy time out. The children are on their beds reading. Supposedly. Since my last post wherein I promise to be funny at least two more times, a lot has changed. The last few months have cumulated to this one night wherein I totally lose my shit on the children during bath time.

And now I sit in time out.

I can point to a variety of excuses, reasons, I’m feeling so… Off. So.. Depressed. So… Tired. I acknowledge my depression, my monster-in-the-closet that is mostly kept at bay 99% of the year. I recognize this huge success that only 1% of the time I find myself wanting to stay in bed, drink too much wine, sit and ignore the world. I’m living that 1% right now and I hate it.

I can blame the tumultuous housing market, our condo that is for sale at nearly half what we paid for it. We knew it was possible, but never realized how terrible the market truly tanked.

I could blame being cut back at work for economical reasons which ultimately makes me want to blame Obama and maybe Bush and also Hurricane Katrina.

I could blame Mother Nature for being a foul mouth bitch and bringing May Winter instead of Flowers that really pisses me right off.

I could blame my weight because HEY! Why not!?

I could blame the kids because they caused my tummy which subsequently made me less attractive and thus start working out more and create these bags under my eyes because I am entirely too tired and OHMYGOD I haven’t slept since 2003. Or something.

:: deep breath ::

Ultimately, I had a bad day. The kids pushed the wrong buttons and I am tired and cranky. I can see, already, the way things are looking up. The offer on the condo, the awesome opportunities of work coming, the house I’m thankful to lose my shit in and the bedrooms I can send my children to time out in.

But right now, I want to sit in Mommy Time Out. It’s the only quite spot left. And it offers wine.

TuesdayApr, 13, 2010

The Next Time I Move, It Will Be Via Tornado

We set up the wardrobes yesterday. This is a much better system than the piles of boxes we’ve been living under. In theory, that is.

I started setting up the different shelves, organizing all the things I thought so important to force my good friends to spend an entire day moving with us.

I started with undies and socks, you know, important things. Moved on to hang-up items, shoes, scarves, sweats, workout stuff, shit I don’t wear any more, shit I shouldn’t wear any more, shit I don’t fit any more, shit I never want to fit in to again.

That’s when it hit me: WOW I have a LOT OF SHIT.

People say things to me like, “You know, the one great thing about moving is that it forces you to clean out all your stuff.” To these people I reply, “You know, the great thing about a colonoscopy is that it forces you to clean out all your shit.”

We are undergoing one giant (echo: GIANT GIANT GIANT) colonoscopy here.

The next person to try to tell me how awesome moving is will be getting one, too.

Not that I don’t love it or anything. About the same way you love eating a large juicy burger and a “non-invasive” scoping procedure.

Just sayin’.

Page 1 of 5 pages  1 2 3 >  Last »