Why must my loving wonderful husband wait until he is in bed to fart up a storm? The kind that smells so bad you MUST leave the room or at least the bed, turn on the ceiling fan, and search for fresh air?
Oh yeah, he is paralyzed and can’t hold in his farts. Like he would if he could.
Dear (insert your name here),
If you are not interested in how mean I am, and my self analysis and therapy session I had with myself, then quit reading this post now. If you choose to read, it is important to read this whole damn thing, so you understand. Please don’t send me anything gross in the mail, or think I hate anyone mentioned in this post. It is quite the opposite.
I am self conscious and concerned about what other people think of me because I know what mean things I think about other people. I not only think mean things, I judge them, make fun of them all the time, based on stupid shit like appearances, and am awful because of it. They probably think nothing of me. I am projecting my negative self image and low self esteem onto them.
I am trying to train myself to be a better person. I find myself frequently wondering what others think of me. What do they think when they see what I am wearing? That I look too slutty, too frumpy, too young to be a mom, or just plain stupid? Do they look at me and think I am conceited, too good for them, or a dumb blonde? When they see me with my husband, do they think something different of me? I know they do. Then they look at me like I am more patient and kind than they would have thought, like I am a “nice person”. That is because he is in a wheelchair.
When people see me pulling into a handicapped space in the parking lot, do they think I am being lazy or rude? How do their thoughts change when they see me pull a stroller and wheelchair out of the trunk? Then do they believe me?
I am a judger of people as well. I don’ mean to be. I get mad when I see cars in the handicapped spots, taking up a space where my husband could have parked. I know they could have some heart problems or soemthing. But honestly, most of the cars I see parked in handicapped spaces have no Handiman sign hanging up. They are not limping, nor do they appear to be in pain, confined to a wheelchair, etc. I get really pissed when I see they are just fat that makes them unable to walk far. Which is why they are fat. Endless cycle? They are making an effort not to walk a little farther or eat better. They are not paralyzed and unable to feel anything or walk or get on top of their wives to to have sex. It’s not like it is necessary for him to be closer to the store. He needs the extra room to assemble and get into his chair. And when motorcycles park in those cross hatched areas by the spaces, I get SO. PISSED. OFF.
So I am judgmental and mean. Last night I saw just how my mind works in this way and felt very guilty, sad, angry, and apologetic.
I like to read Dooce. I may be addicted to it. Almost every day I turn on the computer, I somehow migrate to her page. And I am entertained, sometimes laugh, and yesterday, cry. I think, hey, I want to meet her, she is someone I would be friends with. I would like to have a drink or ten with her and just hang out.
The author, Heather, has a four year old daughter. I have ofter wondered, when will she have another baby? Maybe she is too busy and has a profitable career and now doesn’t want one. Well, good for you Heather Armstrong. I bet you think I must be boring and have no goals and no ambitions and dreams of my own. I probably don’t have a life. Because I do want another baby, am begging for one, trying to convince my husband that it is time to try again. Does she want one? Is she one of those “have only one kid” kinda people, because I think everyone should have a brother or sister or someone to play with/get in trouble with. I think it is, actually necessary. Don’t send me hate mail on this, I dont care.
I also think, her life must be fun. She goes on trips, has lots of dough from this website, she is always talking about how wonderful her husband is, has family nearby, friends, a cute kid, etc. And the girl can write. But I read her current page, and then felt guiltier then a motherf*#%$r for thinking all those things. I am a mean girl. I am sorry Heather. I hope that everything that you are going through doesn’t hurt too much, that you can heal, and I want you to have everything you deserve. You are a fun, witty, enviable woman who makes my day a bit brighter. DO what you gotta do, smile, and it will get better somehow.
Somehow the manicure I got TUESDAY is still perfectly intact. After 4 whole days. Of dishes, bathroom cleaning, sprinkler repair, weeding a garden, and wiping a poopy butt. Oh, and taking down some of our inspected hurricane shutter panels, too. One more reason not to regret my special day I had all by myself in selfish land.
Another recipe for the frazzle minded, trying to make healthy inexpensive meals your kids will eat, in addition to throwing at the wall.
ORGANIC (or not) SOUPED UP MAC AND CHEESE
Sidenote: You can use organic butter, milk, Kraft Mac and Cheese, and everything else, if you can find afford it.
Kraft Mac and Cheese
1/4 cup milk
1/4 cup lowfat Ricotta Cheese (protein! Calcium!)
!/2 cup shredded cheddar cheese
a smidge of butter
precooked frozen broccoli or raw broccoli
chopped tomato if your kids will eat it, or a few Tablespoons of Marinara sauce
Boil the Mac and cheese. If using raw broccoli, add to the water for the last 3-4 minutes of cooking. Drain. Add all the rest of the stuff and serve while saying, “VOILA”!
I am making my own cleaning products (hello vinegar and water. And baking soda), or buying some of the Method products. I love the Seventh Generation lavender and mint dishsoap, and IT WORKS too. I especially like the eucalyptus/mint shower cleaner. I also recycling everything I possible can, reducing waste, and going grocery shopping with reusable bags. I try to buy organic dairy and chicken, along with whatever else isn’t ridiculously expensive (that really narrows it down!). I use shampoo/soap for my daughter that is “all natural” and chemical free.
Although some of the CFC free light bulbs are funky looking, emit a high pitched obnoxious noise when turned on, and are more expensive, I am using them. As my bulbs go out, I replace them with the new greenorama bulbs.
I walk around the house unplugging or turning things off ALL DAY and night. Our electric bill isn’t much different, but whatever. I am DOING MY PART.
So now I am waiting for a BANG BOOM POW or something to tell me that I am doing a good job, that I am doing things right, or that this is actually working.
See? Going Green Makes Me Happy!
Why is it that I feel guilty for doing something for myself? I have all the reasons in the world why I shouldn’t. It doesn’t help.
I bought Elmo tickets for my almost two year old and I , and they were $70. I have to pay for two tickets, because gee, I would sure love to go watch Elmo. Parents should get discounts! But I don’t feel guilty about that.
My husband royally pissed me off Monday. He went out and partied with his gross skeevy friend in Miami.
He is very nice but I don’t think he has ever washed his hands. I will leave the rest to your imagination.
So my husband calls me, his phone is in the process of going dead. This is 11pm. Sometimes I can’t sleep while he is out, for fear of drunk driving, car wrecks, being tossed in the drunk tank, etc. Here is my night when he is off getting wasted, staring at bitches, etc.
1:30 AM Take Xanax due to inability to sleep/worrying etc
3:00 AM Wake up, get panicky and then pissed, that I haven’t heard from the offending party
5:15 AM Wake up, worry that he is dead on the side of the road somewhere, or maybe arrested for drunk driving.
8:00 AM Now I am very worried, feeling sick from lack of sleep, and PISSED OFF. Are there no phones in the entire city? Does your friend not have a phone ? Can’t you borrow someone else’s phone, call collect, or use one in a bar that you are probably still in? Are you 17 years old and unable to tolerate alcohol or stop when you are smashed? Did you forget that you have a family, responsibilities, and are legally considered an adult?
So I called and made myself an appointment- no- multiple appointments-for a massage, facial, and manicure/pedicure. I bought an entire package. I sent an email that said BE HOME BEFORE 3. I AM LEAVING FOR THE DAY. He is an email whore and of course got THAT message.
He came home, looking like a sheepish asshole, tried to apologize, but I had nothing to say except SEE YA later. And then went and spent some money getting pretty and un-pissed off.
I didn’t ask for anything on Mothers’ Day. I got Eggos and coffee in bed. Didn’t have to change the poopy diaper, and had a sandwich made for me for lunch. Pizza for dinner. So I deserved this spa day, along with the retard husband factor. I should not feel bad. But I do.
Then I saw the bar bills (paid by debit card, at 1 am and 3 am at the same bar) and felt waaaaaay better. But still guilty. Then I saw the cost of the shooting range a week or two ago. Feeling better yet. But I also see that the new wheelchair wheels cost over $500 and wonder if that makes me feel worse.
I didn’t disappear, I was just not thinking about this site at all for the past week. Two weeks? I don’t even know. Here are some things I have managed to do and NOT do this entire time off:
- Paint the front door (procrastinate no more! I did it!)
- Buy new sprinkler parts (but not put them in)
- Sign pool and screen contracts (I can swim naked in my own yard in a few months!)
- Make mother’s day gifts (aprons with baby handprints and footprints on them)
- Rearrange bedroom furniture and switch dressers
- Have sex three times in one week! And it was great too.
- Quit birth control (is that why I am so horny again?)
- Go to a yummy outside beach bar and eat lots of raw seafood (I am still experiencing the aftermath)
- Clean my daughter’s closet, baseboards, rearrange her room, clean out her air conditioning vent, and scrub everything
- Try to convince my husband to have another baby (not really working)
My back hurts. I am going to bed. My daughter is cute and can say her first and last name now, and loves to shut doors, knock, and say her name when we ask, “who is it?”. Over and over again. I love her!