Our Year Of Living (Beautifully) Without WalMart

Friday, July 25, 2008

steffani crummett has a way with b-o-l-o-g-n-a

i saw this thingie in a baby magazine today about raising toddlers and it was called MOMMY IS HAVING A TANTRUM...

thats fuckin infantile, isnt it...

but how true...

i have kinda been having a tantrum in one form or another for well over the eight years i have been a mother, but especially surly have been the past, eh, 7 years, since my first child was a toddler...

when you are young and pregnant, or the mother of a newborn, even in that crazyass notsleepingfortwostraightweeksandyournipplesarefirypulpsofhell, you do not imagine that you could ever ever ever ever yell at your child, let alone, that you would eventually have a knockdown dragout powerstruggle of intergalactic proportions in two years....

i am there now with fred, this evening, and in a year and a half at exactly this same time, i will be there with bellaluna.

i am so tired.

and i am thinking terrible thoughts like a woman with children can either a) have children and not work ie stay home with them and be a 24/7/365 mommy like me or b) work and be a part time parent and a 24/7/365 mommy like me or c) run away or d)find a way to make any of those options work.

i am exhausted.

i am thinking terrible thoughts about gender roles and the unfair slavery of stay at home women...

that doesn't help...

but this is what i do when i don't think about the newworldorder machine of government, that my mother has, in essence, told me is driving me mad-der...

i wonder sometimes what the world will be like when i am dead. not in a suicidal way, but as a manner of trying to motivate myself...
it doesn't work most of the time. NOTHING really works to motivate me. the st. john's wort *ahem placebo* i have been taking, seems to work, when i remember it, which has been eh, maybe 9 times this calendar month.

that is how shoddy my memory is...

i am running three children's programs, (and my husband's) and supposedly my own, and the house's and the car's and and and and
on a 56k external modem with wires that the mice have chewed through.

thats what i feel like right now.

oh yeah! i forgot why i started this...

anyhoosies...

one of the tips in that article i mentioned ( i believe i called it a thingie earlier because i am so tired and river has been up "going to bed" for almost two hours now) when MOMMY IS HAVING A TANTRUM...(just IMAGINE how many fucking times a day i would have to count to ten! just go ahead and try to fathom the amount of times i am absolutely washed over with the tsunami of mundane bullshit that is my existance!...oh yeah, it is beautiful and wonderful and i wouldnt trade it for the world, really. i am serious...THAT, friends is how UTTERLY FUCKED UP mothers' wiring is!)

anyway...

the tip for when MOMMY IS HAVING A TANTRUM was:
GET CREATIVE!

and it jabbered on and on about giving your kids crayons and paper instead of having a screaming jihad (which by the grace of goddess i am not having with fred at this precise moment, though 99.999999% of my neurons want to, oh god, the relief if i would just scream and run away and never come back!!!!! *ahem i am kidding...i wouldnt trade the gorgeousness of selfimposed absolutely ungrateful servitude for ANYTHING, i mean it...*)
with your two year old.

if i were to give fred crayons at ANY POINT in his life right now, i would be just ASKIN for hours of scrubbing crayon off the walls...it is bad enough now when he is getting them from SOMEWHERE (god help me!) *ok, its the ART CABINET i have created in my divine lovely mommyness* when i am not looking

he would throw them at me...i know it...he would brain me upside the noggin with crayons...right on the bridge of my nose, or some crazy haphazard shit like that....

oh yeah, ok...so this thingie about MOMMYS TANTRUM or whatever...

said about this chick who GOT CREATIVE instead of shaking her baby...

"when i know that at the end of the day i will blog ALL ABOUT IT...it really helps me! (insert yuppie uncomfortable grin here...you know the kind with porcupine hair on top) Sometimes, when the kids pull a REAL doozie, i say "THATS A BLOGGER!"

i hate that lady...i hate her a lot...

this is painful and boring and annoying and strange enough to read...you dont want to hear about how i just went upstairs and wiped poop off of river because he had taken his diaper off and danced around in it, right?

you don't need the details like how bella is CRAWLING around here (after her first week on the floor) and i am frickin PETRIFIED about the next three years of my life and trying to keep these people safe...

bastian will be a teenager when they are 5 and 4 years old!

and i go to this place of absolute gray and bemuseddepressed wonderment inside a lot of the time. a place where i imagine how the world would be if men had to wake up three or four times a night (midnight-6am) and do WHATEVER their JOB is with zero notice or preparation and then do it all day and do this for 20 years....

but you don't need to know about how bastian cried for 15 minutes over a video game that i let him play for 20 minutes past his usual half hour allotted computer time...

you don't want to know about the peeing on the floor and the fruitflies that won't go away, and the filling that fell out and the no dental coverage, and the griefbursts, and the husband yelling the f*word at me yesterday when i was far too mean for one too many times, and the eh i dunno probably 2-3000 crazy tiny, medium, and huge moodswings that i , my three children (one a big kid, one a toddler, and one a baby) and the twentyfive year old martyrsaint who is my longsuffering (but wouldnt be if i wasnt, i dont think...) husband go through, do you?

you wouldnt give me sympathy and maybe good advice, would you?

is there a you? i don't even know...

i can't imagine at this point.

i am going to go change naked river again for the eh i dunno but i bet i have been up there 16 times in the past two and now a half hours...

but i swear...i am glad to be here. i am blessed to be home...i know that

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