grumble grumble moan

March 30, 2004

Seriously, I am just not genetically wired to be able to do this much cleaning and organizing. It just goes against all I stand for. (Or rather, sit down for.) I am tired, irritable and achey. But, I have been too busy to sit down and have any real meals in days, so I have lost a little over 3 lbs since last week.

I really miss sitting down to blog for as long as I want. I miss writing and reading them.

I miss arguing with the 2 yr old over whether we are watching Dora the Explorer or The View. (I usual win that one since she doesn’t know how to read yet and can’t work the remote. I am not above telling her it isn’t on if I am not in the mood to watch it. Quit looking at me like that. You’d do it too if you were forced into watching it all the damn time! Lately, though Dora is majorly winning.)

I miss crawling back into bed if I didn’t sleep well that night and then pretending I have been up for hours being super productive when the dear husband pops in for an early lunch.

Where oh where has my lazy self gone. I am not so sure I like this busy, active and productive person. She sort of scares me. But, I must push on. There is a house to pack and get ready to sell and no one has offered to come do it for me…yet. SO….here’s to working myself into an exhausted stupor everyday! In the words of Homer Simpson…

Woo Hoooo

Can someone pass the coffee?
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Decisions. Decisions!

February 11, 2004

Well, I finally got the balls courage brains to tell one of the head PTA Militant Moms that I just don’t think that I am cut out to be one of them. I mean, it got to be a really upsetting conversation. Basically, she was questioning my ability to do the job while I was questioning my ability to be a Stepford Wife PTA Militant Mom. You know what pissed me off the most? She made me cry. I hate anyone who can make me cry.

I did what every sane and rational adult does when a bully makes her cry. I told on her. I called my big sister and told her to come beat her up. After a while of me questioning everything about myself I blurted out, “That does it! We’re moving for sure now. I’m not putting up with this crap!!” (No. I don’t think I overreact to things. Why do you ask?)

*silence* on the other end of the phone

Then, in all seriousness my sister said, “Yep. It’s gotten pretty bad when you have to move to avoid the PTA.”

That line was just classic. It made me burst out laughing and put it all in perspective. I made a decision. (ummm, I haven’t really talked to my husband about it, so don’t tell him yet, okay. I mean, I will tell him eventually, but I have been rather irrational lately and well, I think he is afraid of me. So, best to just keep this between us, okay? Thanks a million!)

So, I decided rather than deal with their bullshit this fall, I have decided that whether we move or not, I am going back to school full time in the fall to get my teaching certificate. If I really want to help the school, I should just get my butt in there as a teacher. Right? (Say right. Because really, I need major props for just making a decision. One way or another.)

Where am I going to go to school? I am glad you asked. It will either be (if we move) Texas A&M (can I hear a Whooooop!) or (if we stay, ironically enough) UTD.

I am going to go to bed now. Decision making has sucked me emotionally dry tonight. Stay tuned for more exciting decisions: paper or plastic? sweats or jeans? DVD or a book? It is just nonstop thrills here, I tell you!
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Christmas in July (weather!)

January 3, 2004

There is just something wrong with wearing shorts and a t-shirt with ceiling fans on all over the house…

…while packing up Christmas stuff! I should be drinking cocoa and be in jeans a sweatshirt with a fire in the fireplace. Not sweating and griping because it’s in the upper 70’s.

(Did someone forget to tell Mother Nature that it is still wintertime? Could someone get right on that for me, please?)

This makes me feel like I waited until May to take down the Christmas tree. I didn’t even know that was an option. *grumble grumble*

Update: Clint says that was never an option. Darn!
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Do you have an ALG?

November 8, 2003

Update with a ***Warning*** This entry mentions a song that many parents will recognize and just possibly leave here with it on your mind. Procede at your own risk. (Is that better, Allison?)

I have had a song stuck in my head for weeks.

Yes, weeks.

And it always hits me at the same “place” everytime. Okay, wait, I know that didn’t seem to make sense, but it does makes sense. Let me explain what I mean by the same place.

What I mean is, I am going about my business, doing my thang, when I am in my room and without fail that song pops into my head when I am standing/walking/dancing in that same spot in the room. Every. Time. I have searched high and low to see if there is something triggering it. A picture. A book. Something. Can’t find it to save my life sanity. Just walking along, minding my business and BAM there that annoying song is jumping around in my head making my life a living hell.

In fact, I can be singing something totally different and then hit that area and SMACK there it is! Like running into a wall. Only it is more painful because I don’t just bounce off and say ouch. It stays with me.

Is there such a thing as a “song haunting”? Are there “Annoying Lyrics Ghosts” (ALG’s) whose only purpose in the spiritual realm is to go around and whisper lyrics to songs that will drive a person mad? Is that one particular spot in my room the designated space in the entire spirit world for my very own, personal ALG? If so, how do I rid myself of him? Do I need to get a priest? Do I need to summon the short little actress actress with the creepy voice from Poltergeist to come get rid of it? (See, I said summon. I know she is dead. Maybe that would give her more pull with my ALG.)

All I know is that I am really ready to move on and get rid of him. Don’t even suggest I give in to it. Uh-uh. No way. Forget it. Want to know why? The damn song is the theme song from Dragon Tales. Oh hell no am I going to allow this to continue.

Be gone you wretched ALG. BE gone!

Must. Resist. Dragon Tales Hell. Must. Resist.
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Ways to not start my day

September 23, 2003

/begin rant

Is it possible to start your day (at 5:45am) hearing nothing but “do this” and “do that” and a handful of “gimmies” and not be in a bad mood? Maybe this family needs a primer to figure out how not to start Mom’s day.

1) Do not tell me when you get up that the shirt you want to wear is not clean. You should’ve noticed last night when you were supposed to get your clothes ready for the next morning.

2) Do not tell me that the lunch I just finished making (that you saw me making) is not the kind you wanted. You’ll eat it or make your own.

3) If you see that I am doing something else and you want more milk, get it yourself. You are not incapable of helping yourself. I know this. I live with you.

4) No. I did not know you had to have that particular item today. Did you not know that earlier?

5) Do not sigh when you trip over a toy and either (a) roll your eyes that the toy was out or (b) make an under-your-breath comment about the mess. (Try pitching in and helping me clean. There’s an idea.)

6) Do not (and I am really serious here) do not say “So, you’ve got nothing going on today?” simply because I don’t have a penciled-in appointment. My “nothing going on” day is about 2 full days of work for you.

7) Finally…would a “thank you” every once in a while for doing all of this “nothing” kill any of you?

So, any of you who have not said thank you to the (un)happy homemaker in your life today, go do it now. If you don’t have one in your life, phone your Mom and thank her. If that is not possible either, just thank me. I’ll pretend it came from my family.

/end rant
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Coping?

September 9, 2003

I have terrible coping skills. Rotten. Awful. I know this about myself. If you know me, you know this about me too.

Wait. Not always. If someone else is having something happen to them or if I need to be strong for someone else’s tragedy, I am strong, moved into action and the go-to girl for whatever is needed. I am the rock everyone can lean on.

Send some of that turmoil my way? Well, just look for the quivering heap of a person hiding under her desk with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s. (Chunky Monkey, Jenni.) I crumble and don’t see anything other than doom. Trust me, I hate this about myself.

Then I get into the position of wondering: “Do I talk about it with friends and risk them thinking ‘Oh not again with the drama’ or do I keep it inside and risk a slip? Let me tell you, neither option sounds good to me.
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Histrionics cancelled

September 8, 2003

Some days you are the dog…
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Paying the price

Okay. I admit it. I deserve the intensely crazy day I am getting. I blew off the weekend. I did nothing of value. I got nothing “real” taken care of at all. (But, I did have a helluva time watching my movies!)

Today I have a Slackers Hangover. (Sidenote: A Slackers Hangover usually occurs on a Monday following a weekend where you did little to nothing that should’ve been done. Therefore, you are moving slower than normal, thinking slower than normal and basically not able to function at your top abilities.) I am moving slow in a world that needs me to move at lightening speed. Can you see the problem here?

So, if any of you were jealous of my weekend Slackers Movie Festival, go ahead and giggle. I am dealing with the pay-off now.

Must. Get. More. Coffee.
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Some things change, some things never do…

August 25, 2003

Some things change… Since when did 4th grade homework get to be so hard? I
mean, I should not have to *think* (and I mean really think) about math
probability problems that my 4th grade Kidlet has for homework. I really don’t
remember 4th grade being hard. I remember breezing through school until college. And then, it wasn’t so much breezing through as it was learning how to study and what it took to make the grade. But 4th grade making me scratch my head and say Huh? Lordy tell me that the work is getting harder and I don’t just have a bad case of mommy brain.

And some things never do…
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This must be what hell is like…

August 19, 2003

Human beings were not meant to live in heat
like this! It is gawd awful, slap your mama, scream at the dog HOT! I imagine
this is close to what hell must feel like. It is 103 degrees with a heat index
of 109 degrees. Humidity…sticky! My air conditioner has been running all day,
yet the temperature in the house is 86 degrees. (Did I mention that our air
conditioner was installed by the one and only Fred Flintstone back in 300BC?) It
is soooo time for a new unit. However, when I did laundry this week, I didn’t
find an extra 5 grand in anyone’s pockets. So, I will sweat. (Did I mention that
it is HOT?) I hate being hot. (Living in Texas is not the best choice if you
hate heat, but that is another story.) I am going to go strip down to the bare
minimal so as to not humiliate my kids or get arrested and then I am going to do
nothing. Expend no energy. Moving makes it worse. I am going to try to just
breathe. That’s all the effort I want to exert in this heat.
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