My Funeral Week Vent

First of all, I'm not back yet. I will be eventually. But I have to vent.


Chris, I said I'd have to vent about you before long. Here goes.

1. Don't tell me that the only reason we're not going to Midland to see MY family is because we don't have the money when your real reason is you just don't want to. I will find out ... perhaps when I have over $500 from various family memebers offer to give us money so that we can come down. And no, me driving by myself (with or without the kids -- neither is acceptable) is not going to work. I will not be in that car for that period of time without you there. It's broken down on me multiple times in the past. I'm not risking it again. The next time it breaks down on the road, you WILL be there. So man up and either tell me the truth the first time, or load your butt up in the car and go with me.

2. We were at YOUR grandmother's funeral. I knew your grandfather (the grieving husband), your parents, and your brother and sil. I had met 2 other people there, of the 50+ present. I knew no one. Thank you for not introducing me to ANYONE. For walking away from me on multiple occasions so that I was lost in the sea of people I didn't know -- that pretty much guarantees a panic attack. Thank you for not caring that I didn't get to eat 2 meals that day because I was taking care of YOUR children while you ate a large breakfast and then 2 helpings and a dessert for lunch. Do you know why I finally got to eat? Your great-great aunt insisted on making me a plate and watching the kids for 15 minutes because she realized that I had had no food. Suddenly your mom and your aunt were really worried when they realize that as well. You sat next to me and watched me scarf food down so that I could take your kids off of your great-great aunt's hands and didn't lift a finger to help either of us.

3. Again, I knew NO ONE there. Panic attacks extreme. You noticed not a one.

4. There were 4 guys in the car. You, your dad, your brother, and your 15 1/2 month old son. Out of the 3 of you who are responsible (supposedly) adults, at least one of your should have been able to remember that there was a baby in the carseat when you got to the cemetary. I don't care that you weren't sitting next to him. I don't care that he was asleep and therefore quiet. He is your SON, and he was your responsibility. The next time you leave him in the car, I will kill you. And no, you will never live this down. It is the absolute worst thing you could have done. And I will tell this story over and over and over and over and over again. Because you should have known better.
(For the record, he was in the car by himself no more than 5 minutes, and it was only 60 degrees, and they were in the shade. I quickly realized that none of the boys had him and threw a fit. They all know better now.)

5. I'm sorry that there is only one room that all 4 of us have to sleep in at your parent's house. And I'm sorry that the kids are loud in their sleep. But we're all not sleeping well. I'm probably sleeping the worst because I'm the one up and down all night long. Stop complaining about being tired. We all are. When we get home and get to sleep in our own rooms in our own bed it'll all be ok again. Well, for you, because I'll still be up and down all night long w/ at least one kid.

6. I told you about my grandad having pneumonia again as soon as I could. I didn't tell you when I first found out because we were driving to the cemetary. Then you avoided me all day. I finally saw you the next morning. I told you when I saw you. No, I wasn't trying to blackmail you into going to Midland, but I did want you to know why I was hurt that we weren't going. He's sick. Not my fault, but if I don't get to see him and something happens .... I will be upset with you for a long time.

7. I am not a single parent. I don't enjoy being one. I have to be one from time to time when you're gone, but that should be the only time I'm one. Man up and do your job. You change diapers at home, so you can do it in front of your brother and dad. You discipline at home, so you can do that in front of your brother and dad as well. You help put the kids to bed at home, do it HERE.

8. And finally, this one may seem petty, but when you knew that it would be 30 minutes before I could listen to you play the guitar because I was trying to get your kids to sleep, why couldn't you wait those 30 minutes? Seriously now. I just wanted to listen to you play. Instead I had to run in and out of the house, catch snippets of the songs, and get dirty looks from everyone because I was so distracting. It was not my fault that I had to keep going to the guest house to make sure that your son didn't climb out of his bed again. When they were finally asleep, I got to sit and listen. But by then you were just about done. Thanks again.





No, you were not absolutely terrible. But my feelings got hurt. Thank you for trying to make up for it all today. I appreciate it. I still hurt though. I hope that tomorrow's a better day. I love you ... but man, you've gotta stop pulling this crap around your family. I want them to know the good husband that you've proven you can be.

Dear Chris,

I know that it's my own fault that you're reading this blog. I left it open on the computer. So I'm not upset that you do at all. In fact, it might be a good thing because we rarely exchange the day's stories so this is a good way for you to see what's going on when you're not home. Especially when you're underway.

But here's my disclaimer (man, I HATE disclaimers but I feel like I must give it nonetheless):

This is my space for my personal thoughts. You are in those thoughts. Usually it's good that you're in those thoughts. But on those days where I'm upset with you, I have the right to share those thoughts. You may not like or agree with them. But I get to share them anyway. You may think I over exaggerated or was overly emotional, but I'm the one telling this story, not you. So it's my side. If you want your side shared, please start a blog. I'll be happy to read it. I'll even link over to your blog if you so desire. But since we both know that you won't start a blog, and even if you did you would never update it, then I guess I don't have to worry about that.

I really am glad you're reading but I wanted to share this disclaimer BEFORE you got upset about me venting about you. Because we both know it'll happen. ;)

Love,
Steph

Dear Neighbor's Handyman,

When I told you that you had access to the backyard to paint the trim on the side of the house you're working on, it did not mean whenever you damn well pleased. It meant that for that day you could enter and leave my backyard at will. It did NOT meant that you still had access to it 2 weeks later when you haven't even been at the house for the last week.

Also, when I reminded you today that you are supposed to knock and ask permission before working in my backyard, I did not mean EVERY FREAKING TIME you walk back there. I meant, this morning you should have gone "knock knock" and let me go "yes?" and you have gone "Do mind if I'm in your yard today to finish up painting?" and allowed me to say "yes you can. That's not a problem." Instead, you're knocking on my door every 15 minutes because you can't seem to remember to take all your supplies into the backyard at once, and apparently you're too stupid to grasp that I only need you to ask me ONCE a day. I would seriously think you're being a smartass if you weren't so damn nice about it every time.

So now, are we clear? Every morning you need in my backyard, ask me ONCE to go back there. After I've given you the all-clear, you can enter and leave at will. Then the next time, ask me again. I won't ever tell you no, it's just nice to know that I can't walk through the house after my shower w/ nothing but a towel wrapped around my body. See, not only would that embarrass me, but it would blind and horrify you. So for both our sakes, try to remember this. K?

Good, glad that's settled.

Sincerely,
Steph

Children, we need to have a talk.

Ok, kids. Settle down now. We need to have a chat.

This first part is for both of you.
The morning does NOT start until 7:00am. Got that? Even that is a little early for your sleep-deprived Mommy, but I'll deal with it as long as you oblige. This getting up between 5:30 and 6:30 crap has got to stop. Until the first number on the clock reads 7, you can not get up. I don't care if the clock reads 6:59:30. It is not yet 7, so stay in bed! In the rare case we DO have to get up earlier because your daddy has duty that day, it does not mean that you can wake up at 5:30 the next 3 days in a row. It does not work that way. And if you insist on waking up at 5:30 the next day, you can fully expect me to doze on the couch while you are penned into the living room with me. I will not respond to your pulling of my hair or bouncing on me. It just doesn't happen, so stop trying.


KAIRI
~Lotion is not a hair moisturizer. Stop putting it there. And stop teaching your brother to.
~The pantry is not open for a reason and you are not a monkey. Stop scaling the pantry shelves for food. I have everything you are even remotely interested in hidden. Either that, or else you've already moved it to your bedroom. If you break a pantry shelf and cause me to spend $50 on getting our landlord to send someone out here to fix it, I will NOT be happy.
~I know that we all rave over Alex when he babbles. But he's 14 months and he rarely speaks. That does not mean that we need to rave over you for spewing nonsense when you speak with clarity 90% of the time. And throwing a fit because I didn't tell you how cute you sounded is not going to make me want to do it anymore.
I'll stop there. We'll address more next time.



ALEX
~You are 14 months. I have HEARD you say Mama, Dada, more, and all done before. Therefore, I know you can. START. I know you are getting a late start because you couldn't hear me before, but the fact is that now you can, so it's time to get busy boy. TALK!
~Again, the hearing thing. I know you couldn't hear me before so it made it super easy to not have to mind. I excused your ignoring me on a regular basis. But you can hear me now. Yesterday Dr. Weiss said that your ears were completely clear. THAT MEANS YOU CAN HEAR ME!!! So when I say "Alex come here" and you glance out of the corner of your eye at me and then run in the other direction, I know that it's because you think it's more fun to pretend you can't hear me than to obey. From now on, this won't fly. Boot camp begins today. You WILL obey. Got it?
~Just because you are little, and cute, and have absolutely gorgeous eyes, does not mean that you can demand to be held every time I sit down at the computer. I know that you don't want me, but rather the 10 million Dr Pepper cans your daddy left at the desk. Or the screws he left up here. Or the cds/dvds. They are not yours. You are not getting up here. Screeching at the top of your lungs and throwing things at me will not get your way. It only annoys me.


CHRIS, because let's face it. Sometimes you're one of my kids too.
~When we had the talk about cleaning up your desk every night before you went to bed, I was serious. The fastfood cups and Dr Pepper cans have been here for at least 3 days. I know you weren't here yesterday, but that's 2 nights worth of cleaning that you could have should have done.
~The same goes for your dirty socks. YUK.
~You are capable of putting your own clothes away. The pile beside your bed that I told you I was too busy to hang up, was not intended to stay there. You have 2 hands. HANG THEM UP.
~Yes, you're doing much better. But these are things that you still need to work on. Thanks.