It’s My Blog And I’ll Whine If I Want To

I have been battling migraines since I went to Albuquerque last week, so I’m not in the best of moods right now. I had big plans of spring cleaning my house this week, but I have no energy to do that. Today I couldn’t handle dealing with the kids at home, so we joined several other women and children at the park for a couple of hours. Yes, it was sunny and kids are loud, so yes, that is going to hurt my head. But I had just taken a couple OTC migraine pills, put on my sunglasses, threatened my children’s very lives if they disturbed me, and went to the park. Thankfully, the boys were pretty good and didn’t fight with each other or the other kids and didn’t come beg me for food and drink every 2 seconds. They played well and seemed to have fun.

The other women and I sat partially in the shade and partially in the sun (it was a gorgeous morning) and talked about everything. I love to go to the park and talk to my peers. You all know how hard it is to be a SAHM and feel so isolated. It’s great to get out, even if the house is a mess and stays that way.

One girl (who is very pregnant, by the way) mentioned that she had deleted a post from her blog where she had been complaining a bit about her pregnancy. She isn’t due until the end of May, but she is dilated now and having contractions. So she doesn’t get to do a lot because she obviously doesn’t want the baby to come yet. I imagine she is uncomfortable and in pain (simply because that’s how my pregnancies go). I asked why she deleted the blog post and she said because someone had commented with something to the effect of “Oh, it’s all worth it because of the blessing that comes after.”

Let me tell you something. (Oh, and by “you”, I’m not speaking to YOU, just to random strangers who aren’t actually reading my blog.) When someone is pregnant (especially with their third child), they KNOW what blessings come. They don’t need to be told. They need a time to be able to say “I’m miserable. I’m in pain. I hate being pregnant.” It’s 9 months of feeling yucky. Most of us do not have perfect, painless, no nausea pregnancies. So let a pregnant woman complain!

Also, and this is what really bugs me, it was HER blog. She wasn’t going somewhere else to complain. She was using HER blog to mention something. If you don’t like it, don’t read it. My blog is ME. If I’m in a bad mood and feel like being negative and whine a bit, I’m allowed to do that. I don’t want anyone coming on and telling me to look at the bright side of things. I don’t want to be told what blessings are coming my way. I appreciate that when I wrote that post about how much I hate this house, none of you said, “At least you have a house. I’m in an apartment.” or “Be grateful you have a garage. I have to park on the street and deal with snow plows pushing snow over my car so I have to dig it out in the morning.” or “At least you’re not homeless.” Things like that. Because really, I’m perfectly aware that I am blessed that we even live in a house and have no shared walls. I’m totally aware that tons of people have it worse than I do. I know we are blessed that Ches has a job and a regular paycheck, no matter how small it is, and that even though we don’t have much for extras, we are able to live off one income and my kids are healthy, happy, well fed, clothed, etc. I KNOW.

It’s just that sometimes you need time to complain and you need your friends to offer support more than encouragement. My readers, my friends, you are amazing at that. I have been writing this blog for 4 1/2 years. You have been there while I have battled postpartum depression and whatever kind of depression I still have. You have let me whine and complain about my kids, my house, my life. I have received more comments, emails, packages, letters, etc. from you guys with support, virtual and real hugs, and just general understand. No judging. (If you were judging me, you did it behind my back and hid it from me, and I’m grateful you did that, too. Thank you!)

I only hope that I have been the same for you. I hope I have not said uncalled for or unwanted things. I hope I have been supportive when you needed that and encouraging when you needed that. The last year or so I haven’t been good at commenting on blogs or even writing on my own. But I want you to know that I think about each of you constantly. I do not exaggerate. The friendships I have gained from this blog are cherished more than you know. I don’t know what I would do if I lost your friendship. Any of you. I can’t quit my blog because I’m afraid of losing you. Even if you don’t think I’m actually talking about you, I promise you. I am. Every single one of you who reads my blog, has ever read my blog, has ever commented on my blog. You are amazing and I appreciate you. Thanks for letting me whine all these years.

And Carlie, leave a comment so I know you’re reading. Anyone else lurking? I need to know!! ūüôā

I Hate This House

I hate this house and its laundry room actually being the washer and dryer downstairs and in the garage.

I hate this house with its small kitchen that can only fit one small person at a time.

I hate this house with its light colored carpet that shows every stain that we have ever made and every stain made before we ever moved in.

I hate this house with its lack of counterspace in the kitchen so I can’t fit any of my appliances that I use on a regular basis.

I hate this house with three bedrooms and two and half baths, but NO linen closet.

I hate this house that didn’t come with a fridge so the one we had was given to us and it’s a piece of junk that freezes everything no matter how much we turn down the temperature and now all my lettuce is frozen again and ruined. Again.

I hate this house with no storage so we try to fit as much as we can in the garage but there’s not much room there either.

I hate this house with a small garage that barely fits our two vehicles making it so we have to back out of the garage just so passengers can get into the vehicle.

I hate this house with its strip of dirt that is somehow called a yard but isn’t actually something my kids can run and play in. Did I mention it’s dirt? Well, actually, with all this rain, it’s mud. Just mud.

I hate this house with no over the stove microwave so I have to have my own microwave on the counter, taking up more of the precious little counterspace I had in the first place.

I hate this house with a fan that turns on at regular intervals, regardless of whether or not we actually have and fan, heat or AC actually turned on.

I hate this house with its townhouse-like floorplan so everything is scrunched and stacked and you don’t have room to breathe.

I hate this house with its lack of a proper driveway so we can’t even park in the driveway or we get fined by the HOA.

I hate this house with its white doors and white banister that has barely one coat of paint and chips easily and shows every. single. fingerprint.

I hate this house with its lousy insulation so no matter what it’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter.

I hate this house and I’m not living in it past May. At all. I’m done.

Square 1

I have been working so hard at controlling my temper and letting things just slide off my back rather than getting worked up about it. I have been working hard at making this season about Christmas and finding activities (even if it’s just opening the door to the Advent calendar for another piece of chocolate) so the boys won’t be focused on what they will find under the tree. I have been working hard at getting my house a little more clean and a little more organized. I have been working SO HARD to become a little bit more like the old Sariah that everyone actually liked to be around (myself included).

This morning, I’m right back to square 1. Aiden didn’t finish his homework yesterday, so he had to do it this morning (and I had to check and make sure he had today’s homework done since neither Ches or I will be home at all today). Then I realized I didn’t get laundry done and Aiden doesn’t have any clean jeans to wear. Aiden also managed to leave his jacket on a bench at the playground at school, and it was quite cool this morning. (By the way, I don’t mean it was down to 90 degrees. It was a LOT colder than that this morning. It’s only 36 right now. So save your sarcastic comments for a day when I’m in a better mood, thank you very much.) I got confused and thought Ches was getting paid today. Well, he gets paid next week. So I spent some money yesterday and now I get to take back Harry Potter and a shirt I got just so we can have groceries. Don’t even ask how I’m going to pay the babysitter tonight. Maybe I can just not buy any food (even though we’re out of a lot of stuff we NEED) and use the Harry Potter money to pay the sitter. I’m so mad at myself.

I lost it this morning over and over again. Aiden took 45 minutes to do 20 math problems. That is NOT okay. He’s freaking highly gifted. Why can’t he just focus on the one task and get it done? Instead, he lines up his erasers and makes light sabre sounds. Argh. Parker asked for muffins for breakfast, so I took out the cheap muffin mix we have. I let them cook a little too long because I was brushing Aiden’s hair. Parker wouldn’t eat the muffins. Argh. Dallin asked for cereal for breakfast, and then he told me it was too soggy and he wanted muffins. Wasted a bowl of cereal because by the time I got over to check, the cereal really WAS soggy. Argh.

I’m starting to sound like — and feel like — Alexander who had the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. “I went to bed with gum in my mouth and when I woke up there was gum in my hair.”

I want to move to Australia.

Right after I hit “publish” on this post, I checked my email and found this. I laughed so hard. It just seems to fit with my mood today, and I wanted to share it with you:

Dr. Phil proclaimed, ‘The way to achieve inner peace is to finish all the things you have started and have never finished.’

So, I looked around my house to see all the things I started and hadn’t finished, and before leaving the house this morning, I finished off a bottle of White Zinfandel, a bottle of Bailey’s Irish Cream, a package of Oreos, the remainder of an old Prozac prescription, the rest of the cheesecake, some Doritos, and a box of chocolates. You have no idea how freaking good I feel right now.

The Woman Has No Filter

This is a story of a woman who has tried my patience and who I don’t want to gossip about but after church today, I’m more than a little frustrated. Enough is enough. And too many of you asked on Facebook what I was talking about, so I’m giving you the loooooooong version. You love me. ūüôā

As my faithful readers know, last year I was the Primary Chorister at church. That meant I was in charge of the music for the children — teaching them songs and leading them and such. It was a really hard job for me and I did not enjoy it. I think I did an okay job at it, but after our yearly Primary Program, I was more than ready for someone else to take over. In January I was released from that calling, and someone else got the job. I was asked if I would be willing to sub every so often, and I said yes. I subbed for her quite a few times (at the very last minute, I might add) and talked to her a bit on the phone to answer any questions she had. The new music leader asked me for any materials I used, and I gave her a couple of things I had, but there just wasn’t much to give. I wasn’t given anything because there really isn’t a budget for it, and besides, it was a new year and the kids were learning all new songs. The games I had made and the visual aids I made were for the old songs they had learned and performed already. They didn’t need that stuff anymore.

A couple of months later, I was at the park after school with my kids and a lot of the neighborhood moms and their kids. It’s what we do here. heh. Anyway, the woman who became the new primary chorister was putting some visual aids together and talking to some of the other moms about the whole thing and complaining that she hadn’t been given anything. I don’t know if she didn’t realize I was sitting there (2 feet away… not hidden by anything… talking to friends over there…), but I didn’t feel it necessary to say anything about it to her. Someone else said, “You know, other music leaders in the past have just made things on their own. But if there’s no money, they draw pictures on the chalkboard or whatever. You do what you can.” I appreciated my friend for saying that and thought that would be the end of it.

And then the new music leader said, “Well, I guess I just care more than other people.”

I got up and went to play with my children. I didn’t need to hear anymore. I guess I just didn’t care enough about the Primary children. Whatever.

This woman has aggravated me on a bunch of other issues since then, and I feel like I have been more than nice to her and supportive of her (even when I absolutely didn’t want to be). Maybe I’m two faced and totally fake to be smiling and nice to her and then go and complain about her to my husband and my close friends, but that’s me. Two faced and fake. You probably all know that by now.

It has been a long time since any of the stuff about music has been mentioned and I thought everyone was over it.

The new music leader is no longer the music leader. Hasn’t been for about 2 months or so.

Today, in Relief Society (the Sunday meeting for our women’s association), we were talking about our talents and how we can use those to serve and uplift and magnify our callings and such. There was a great discussion and I was feeling really edified and uplifted. Really.

And then this women commented. In her comment she said, “When I became the chorister, I was so scared and felt so inadequate. I was given NOTHING to help me out. NO handouts or anything and so I just felt unprepared. So when they put in the new Primary Chorister, I made sure to give her ALL of my handouts and visuals and I told her I would answer any questions she had and just help her out so she would know what to do.”

This woman said more (that I don’t remember exactly what she said, but the gist of it was more of the same), but I sat there like a statue. I determined I wouldn’t change my facial expression or say anything because really, there was nothing to say. She obviously thought I was not supportive of her by not giving her materials (that didn’t exist!). She obviously didn’t remember the advice she had asked me about. She obviously didn’t remember me subbing for her many times and even finding a sub for her a couple of times when I couldn’t do it because of other commitments.

This woman also obviously doesn’t realize how hurtful her comments could be to the people she was talking about. She often says things without thinking about who is there and listening. She has no filter and just says whatever she wants. And that is why I was so upset after church today and put the status on Facebook that I did. Now you know.

Giveaway Blogs

It seems that there are a lot of blogs out there with giveaways these days. It’s great. I like to enter in the hopes of winning a new laptop, a pair of jeans, ice cream, a new book, or whatever. I am, however, noticing an alarming (to me) trend to these giveaways. Most of them have these amazingly complicated rules on how to enter. It used to be that you could just leave a comment, and be done with it. Now, however, you have to leave a comment AND subscribe as a follower to the blog AND post something on Facebook (leaving your link of said posting) AND post something on Twitter (again, leaving your link) AND mention the giveaway on your own blog (yet again leaving your link) AND hand over custody of your first-born…

Okay, maybe it’s a little bit of an exaggeration, but you get the idea. I do not want to have to go through 15 step just to enter a giveaway. Yes, I would love to win the prize, but why does it have to be so hard? If you asked me to mention something on my blog, I would. But if you are making it a requirement for my entry in your contest, it just rubs me the wrong way. Why are you making life so hard for us? And I don’t want to subscribe to a bunch of blogs. I have links on my own blog to what I like to read. There are more than enough there. I don’t need more things sent to my email, and I don’t need something else to sign in to just to read blogs. I like the system I have, so don’t mess with it.

Basically, I just don’t enter that many giveaways. I want to, but I don’t want to mess with it. So now you know there are better chances for you to win (if you want to go through the hassle, that is).

Don’t Assume You Know Me…

You know what I’m sick of? I’m sick of people assuming they know what I think or feel or believe. I’m sick of people assuming I believe in certain things or my politics are a certain way just because of the church I go to or the neighborhood I live in.

You know, the only real reason why I am even a member of a certain political party is because I wanted to vote in the presidential primaries. I do not agree with everything in that party. Nor do I agree with anything in any party. I do not let political parties define me. Why should I let you define me?

As to how I voted on certain “hot button” issues… I have many complex reasons for exactly why I voted the way I did. I do not expect to be agreed with, and most of the reasons I have are so personal I am not willing to share with everyone. I’m especially not going to share them with someone who has already made a decision and closed their mind down to any other possibilities.

I do not get into political debates. Most people do not actually discuss politics. They argue and talk and yell and do not listen to the other side. They are so busy making their point and trying to prove their point that they are not giving any thought of validity to the other side. I hate the contention that discussing politics brings about. I refuse to debate or even “discuss” politics with you because I don’t feel like my opinions are even being listened to.

I hate the assumptions that people make of me as I avoid politics. It is assumed that I don’t care as much. Or that I’m not smart enough. Or that I’m too ignorant to see “the right side” of the discussion. I am none of those. I care very deeply about my country, my state, my town. I care very deeply about people and society in general. I care about my family and how things affect my daily life. But I am not willing to get into the arguments for argument’s sake. I am smart enough. I will do research on a subject that interests me and make decisions to the best of my ability. I am not a stupid person by any means. I am also not ignorant. Just because I don’t seem to believe in the same things as you does not mean that I am ignorant.

Or naive. I was called naive recently. I am not naive. Again, I have done enough research and I have had enough experiences that I feel I can make an informed decision as well as have an opinion. Do not scoff at me because my life is on a different path than yours.

At first glance I probably do look like your typical 30-something, married, mother, Mormon, Arizona, white woman. At at first glance, my beliefs may reflect that, also. But everything is far more complex and deep. Don’t assume you know me and lump me into your narrow categories. You don’t know anything about me.

WHY??? (A Complain-y Post. Be Ye Warned.)

My 3 Day Walk is almost here, and I’m NOT ready. ¬†I still have to raise $450 (or it comes out of my pocket… guess who is giving up her next two paychecks????), my period started today (I haven’t had it since the beginning of September… I’m so unpredictable… it couldn’t wait ONE more week??? ¬†I won’t be done and comfortable by Friday!!), and this evening I wrenched my lower back (OH! ¬†The pain! ¬†I can’t move… I can’t stand up straight… ).

I still need to either borrow or buy an airmattress so I don’t have to sleep on the ground. ¬†I still need some proper clothes to wear (I only have one actual pair of capris that I’ve been walking in, and I’m not wearing the same pair for 3 days in a row), and I need a new waist pack (mine is super small and only holds one water bottle, my cell phone, my driver’s license, and a small amount of cash and I need to hold 2 water bottles, my cell phone, body glide, chapstick, cash, ID, bandaids/moelskin, and an extra pair of socks to change at lunch time). ¬†

I had a rotten day at church today. ¬†The kids in primary can be so obnoxious. ¬†Our primary program is in two weeks, and since I won’t be here next Sunday, we didn’t have Sharing time today, just singing time. ¬†The kids groaned no matter what song I said we were about to sing. ¬†They wouldn’t follow direction, kept talking to their neighbors, and some just flat out wouldn’t sing. ¬†In Senior primary, when I mentioned I wouldn’t be here, the kids cheered. ¬†Thank goodness primary was over right after that, because as soon as the kids were out of the room, I seriously started crying.

Dallin won’t eat food. ¬†Well, he’ll eat junk food, candy, and cereal. ¬†He didn’t have lunch (it’s not unusual for him to skip a meal or two) or dinner, but only wanted milk to drink. ¬†I wouldn’t let him have any milk until he ate some food. ¬†He is one stubborn kid. ¬†He never did get any milk. ¬†I couldn’t even get him to take one measly bite of food. ¬†So no milk, no dessert… nothing! ¬†The kid worries the heck out of me with his constant refusal to eat. ¬†And he’s not the skinny kid in the family. ¬†How is he getting enough nutrition out of cereal and milk and tootsie rolls?? ¬†I don’t get it.

I stopped taking my medication for about 2 months. ¬†I think it was only 2 months. ¬†Anyway, things were not good, and Ches got me a refill. ¬†I’ve been taking it, and I think overall it has helped, but now I’m getting migraines a lot. ¬†I think Welbutrin is not right for me. ¬†I might have to go back to Zoloft, but I hate the way Zoloft makes me feel when I forget to take it even once. ¬†I get all dizzy and feel like I’m about to pass out at any second. ¬†So… off to the doctor I must go to discuss my options.

I think my job is great, but I also think it sucks. ¬†I am not a teacher of young kids. ¬†My degree is in secondary education, and I think if I’m going to teach, that is where I should be. ¬†As sweet as the kids are (most of the time), I’m just not enjoying it like I want. ¬†I am a firm believer in doing what makes you happy. ¬†If I’m going to leave my kids with someone else all day long, I’d better darn well LOVE what I’m doing, not just tolerate it. ¬†And then there’s the whole discipline thing: ¬†I think that most of the classes are fine. ¬†I can handle a little bit of extra noise. ¬†i mean, I’m not in a normal classroom, and these are all toddlers and preschoolers and young elementary school kids. ¬†I don’t expect them to be able to come into a large, muti-purpose room and stay on task 100% of the time. ¬†My methodology is to essentially ignore the little disruptions. ¬†If I ignore them, they go away. ¬†If they don’t go away, then I deal with it appropriately to the situation. ¬†I am so tired of having other people in the school tell me to always be right on top of these kids… to not even give them an inch… blah blah blah. ¬†Just let me handle my classes, thank you very much. ¬†If I have major issues, I will let you or the lead teacher (who is where I’d go to first, anyway) know and we will come up with a plan. ¬†But I just don’t think things are THAT BIG A DEAL, so stop instructing me EVERY DAY on how to teach and discipline my classes.

I’ve been having a real hard time just enjoying my life. ¬†It’s so easy to put on a fake smile and pretend that everything’s great, but I’m getting sick of faking it. ¬†I’m pretty sick of being so lonely. ¬†I go to the park with my kids for the playgroups and I try to talk to the other moms, but I just don’t feel all that comfortable. ¬†One day, after school, one kid had his skateboard at the park. ¬†This other kid, who is probably in 2nd grade, was riding on the other kid’s skateboard, on his knees, when he feel forward and hit his head on the cement. ¬†Of course he starts crying for his mom, but she isn’t there. ¬†Their house is literally across the street. So he immediately runs home. ¬†The other moms say he’s not the type of kid to take comfort from anyone else, but he ran home, so I’m not thinking it’s a big deal. ¬†Then one mom says very emphatically, “THIS is why you come to the park! ¬†You have to watch your kids!” ¬†The other moms all start agreeing and nodding their heads, and they are all talking around this one point, and all I’m thinking by now is “CUT THE APRON STRINGS!” ¬†The kid is old enough to be by himself at the park across the street! ¬†I let Aiden go to the park now all the time without me. ¬†I don’t let Dallin or Parker go, but Aiden, I feel, is old enough to be able to play without my constant supervision. ¬†The park is visible from my house, and Aiden has certain rules he knows and follows (like he is either at the park or at home… he doesn’t go to anyone else’s house, EVER, for anything), so I don’t really worry too much. ¬†You can not watch your kid 100% of the time, ladies! ¬†Let them learn to be responsible for themselves at some point! ¬†(The mom most vocal has kids both older and younger than the hurt boy) ¬†I’m also thinking that if this is how you are talking about someone who isn’t here, what are you saying about me, behind MY back! ¬†Sometimes I’m not there, at the park, when the bus comes in the afternoon. ¬†I would like Aiden to come home first, but most of the time he just stays at the park and plays (because all the other kids are staying and playing), and a couple of the moms mentioned that they have tried telling him to go home and check in with me and whatever. ¬†So I’m wondering what exactly are they saying to each other when I’m not there. ¬†If they are going to say stuff about the one mom and be SO rude about it, I can only assume you do it to me, too.

I’m sick of trying to make friends, but not succeeding. ¬†I just don’t feel a part of anything, no matter what functions or casual meet-ups I attend. ¬†I feel like an outsider. ¬†I miss my old ward and my old friends. ¬†I miss other places we’ve lived because I had such great wards and friends. ¬†I loved my callings, and I loved the friends I had and the plans that we made.

I miss autumn. ¬†It’s my favorite season. ¬†Arizona just doesn’t get an autumn. ¬†It goes from HOT hot hot hot hot summer, to summer, to a mild “winter” (which feels like summer to some of you, perhaps), to summer, and back to HOT hot hot hot hot summer. ¬†It was in the 70’s all last week and it was wonderful!! ¬†Aiden wore a jacket to school each morning (hey, it wasn’t in the 70’s yet that early in the morning) and the boys wore pants instead of shorts and I got cold enough to want hot chocolate at night. ¬†Not that I ever need it to be cold to drink hot chocolate. ¬†It’s just nicer. ¬†But I miss a real autumn, with a cool wind, changing leaves, wearing sweaters and scarves, and seeing my breath in the morning before school (I can do without scraping frost off the car windows in the morning, however).

So, now you know why I haven’t written in a while. ¬†When it rains, it pours. ¬†I have tons more I could complain about, but I need to go to bed and get some sleep before another “fun” day of work tomorrow. ¬†Oh, and I have to pray REAL hard that my back is better so i can function. ¬†I guess tomorrow I gotta try to see a chiropractor. ¬†I can’t let this be like when I hurt my back a couple months ago. ¬†It was a couple of weeks before I was back to normal. ¬†It sucked!!!!

What Has It Come To??

Aiden’s birthday is a week from yesterday. Because I have to work on Monday, we decided I’d bring in treats on Friday, and besides, it’s “Friday Fun Day”, so that will be a better day, anyway. I was all excited to make 30+ cupcakes, all looking like Storm Trooper helmets or Darth Vadar heads. Aiden has asked for rice crispie treats, instead. And all the rice crispie treats have to be Darth Vadar. No problem. I can do that. I think.

Except that things have changed since I was in elementary school. We have to buy whatever treats we bring. We aren’t allowed to make them ourselves. And if we DID want to make something, apparantly it can only be done there on campus, in the home ec. room or something. Yeah. That’s not going to happen.

So now I have to find a bakery or something that will make a large batch of Darth Vadar rice crispie treats. Aiden really really really wants that, and since he doesn’t get a birthday party this year, I figure we could get him what he wants rather than me just running to Wal-Mart Friday morning and buying whatever generic cupcakes they have.

I’m not happy about this. Stupid school rules. I understand the need to keep kids safe, especially when there is a peanut allergy or something. But there isn’t one in this class. And how many cases of moms poisoning their child’s birthday cupcakes have there been?? Honestly. I’m sick of having to bow down to every little possibility that is SUCH a small possibility. I bet it’s just someone’s overactive imagination, and that someone is on the state school board (same rules in a different district last year). I bet it’s a case of some overprotective parent somewhere that freaked out at the thought of a stranger being allowed to send in a potentially dangerous cupcake, made a huge ordeal, and now we ALL have to deal with the decision.

I liked being a kid when I was allowed to walk to school or the park by myself. When I brought in homemade cupcakes for my birthday. When I went trick-or-treating and got actual homemade treats from the neighbors. When we had Halloween and Christmas and Valentine’s Day parties, not a “fall harvest” or a “winter celebration”. I liked going out to play with the neighborhood kids and not with my parents. I liked riding my bike without a helmet and kneepads and elbow pads. I like eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and not having to worry about sitting at a certain table or even in a certain room while I ate my peanut butter. Life may have been more dangerous, but we sure didn’t know. It was a lot more simple. A lot easier to be a kid. A lot of fun.

Sleep is For The Weak

We’ve all seen those cutesy t-shirts, right?¬† As if by becoming mothers we no longer need sleep, nor are we entitled to sleep, so to make ourselves feel better we tell ourselves only weak mothers get “enough” sleep.¬† I know it’s all meant to be a joke, but I’m not in a joking mood these days.

I’m pissed off beyond words.

I don’t think I’ve had a full night’s sleep in 6 years. I don’t think I’ve had a night of just me (and Ches, of course) in my bed in 2 years.¬† I don’t know how much longer I can do this.

Oh, and if I hear any “advice” like “you’re the parent.¬† Just put them in their bed” then you may just have an “unexplained” murder on your hands.¬† Because I do put them back in their beds.¬† Again and again and again.¬† If I want any kind of sleep, it’s just easier to let the kid stay in my bed so he’ll stay asleep rather than wake up every 30 to 40 minutes, getting me out of bed again and again.¬† I don’t want to be told to let them cry it out.¬† You wouldn’t try it either if, after the first several times of CIO the kid cried for an hour or more.¬† Take into consideration that the kids share a room.¬† They wake each other up with their crying, and then I have to deal with not one but two non-sleepers.¬† And then three.¬† And my husband has to be up before the crack of dawn to get to work and deal with a bunch of surly teenagers at 630 in the morning, so having kids keep him up in the middle of the night, night after night, is not an option, either.

Super nanny, you are welcome to try.¬† You are welcome to fix my house hold and get me some sleep.¬† But when I try these various methods, it doesn’t work.

I’m exhausted and cranky.¬† I am not particularly fond of my children right now.¬† And I’m sure there are a million I told you so‘s out there, but I dont’ want to hear it.¬† You really want to help?¬† Come pick up my kids and let me have a 4 hour nap.¬† And if I offend someone because I’m so on edge, I’m sorry.¬† I really am.¬† I’m tired and seriously can’t control my attitude right now.

Sore Loser

We don’t have cable right now. We don’t have an antenna, either, so we don’t even get basic channels like NBC or PBS. I’m liking the fact that we are no longer so dependent on the nightly TV schedule, but there are things from TV that I miss.

I miss the Olympics. I absolutely love watching the Olympics. Yes, I know I can watch stuff online, but my PC is a dinosaur and it takes soooooo long for anything to load, then the quality is just bad… Ches’ laptop is with him most of the time, so now that school has started I just don’t get to use that as much as I used to. Therefore, I have not watched anything from the Olympics this year. I have been reading things online. News stories and the like.

I read this article today. I have seen the headlines and read some other stories about the questions people have of the correct age of the Chinese women gymnasts. I’m not here to debate on whether these girls are 14 or 16 and whether or not there is some kind of cheating going on.

Instead, I want to commend the American Gymnasts for being such gracious “losers”. Sure, they wanted the gold, and probably any other day would have won it. It’s too bad Alicia Sacramone had such a bad day, but doesn’t that happen sometimes? Even to the best? Alicia and her teammates accepted the silver medal with dignity, as they should. They were not up to snuff. They didn’t earn a gold medal, and they know it, and I appreciate their sportsman-like behavior.

Too bad noone has taught Bela and Martha Karolyis about proper sportsmanship. They can’t be happy with second place. Oh, no. They have to look around and bring down everything and everyone around them. I think we’ve all known people like this. They are never happy with what they have because they are too busy trying to blame everyone else for one-upping them. Perhaps the Chinese are cheating. I don’t know. I don’t care. The IOC says they accept the passports and documents showing the grils’ age to be 16, so we should to. Nothing in this world is perfect, and not everyone is honest. But to make the Americans look and feel worse about not getting gold because you’re accusing another team of cheating or accusing officials of purposely delaying Sacramone’s floor routine just to shake her up is just plain wrong.

It’s almost as bad as this guy. Ara Abrahamian won a bronze medal, and wasn’t happy about not getting gold, so he threw his medal on the wrestling mat and walked away.

Excuse me. You are an Olympic athlete. You just got a medal. I know you have worked hard and your goal was to get the gold, but guess what? Not everyone can win. There is one gold medal, and you just didn’t get it this time. Get over yourself and be grateful for the experience you had. Be grateful that you got any medal. Be grateful that you were even able to attend and compete in the Olympics. That in itself is a high honor that few in the world will ever get. This man disgraced himself, his teammates and country, his sport, and the Olympics in general because he decided to act like a two year old and throw a temper tantrum.

The Olympics are about unity and sportsmanship, not about individual egos (which is why I have very little patience for people like Bode Miller). The Olympics is the ultimate time to show what it is to lose with grace and dignity. Since when is getting ANY kind of a medal a bad thing??

I’m glad Abrahamian quit. If only we could get rid of the Karolyis’ (She is the US national team coordinator, he is an NBC commentator). We don’t need that kind of negative influence around. What kind of a message are these three people sending out to the general public? You don’t win, so throw a fit and try to bring everyone else down? Take an example from the American gymnastic team… gold isn’t everything. Accept your medal with a smile. We’re proud of you for just being there. At least I am!