Back to something like my life

I have been away. I am now back. If I change one little letter in the previous sentence it says "I am not back" which is how my fingers typed it the first time. My fingers Freudian slipped.

I was away for 11 days visiting Light, then Indigo, then driving through the Blue Ridge Mountains. While away I was alive. The day I came back (Tuesday evening) and the following morning I was alive and angry. Angry at how we live here in this house, angry at the complacency everyone shows about the many nouns that are out of place. Concrete and abstract nouns. For example: the disambiguated door leaning against the wall by the kitchen. It has no purpose besides stubbing toes. The pervasive stench of sour urine throughout the house caused by Diva's bed wetting and her failure to wash her bedclothes when she wakes up wet. The antagonism my children have for each other, for us as their parents, and for the world in general. Yes, I was angry. But everything is fine now. The enormity of it all has overwhelmed me once again until I am numb on the surface. HELP! I'm suffocating in this stultifying* miasma** that is my life. I hardly recognize the woman who just two days ago was driving through the Appalachian Mountains, full of life, determination, and confidence. I almost can't remember the feeling of that indignant anger. I certainly don't feel it anymore. All I feel is sadness. No, more like despondency.*** 


Perhaps I don't drink enough. I have a drawer full of beer in my refrigerator. To numb the pain of this numbness I could become a drunk. Not just an occasional drinker, but a drunk. I know that's a bad idea in the long run. The argument I tell myself against such foolishness is almost the same as the argument I use for not killing myself. Does anyone else see a red flag there?

What can be done? Nothing. Refer to the definitions of stultify, miasma, and despondent.

Please take me away from here!


*stultify - to render absurdly or wholly futile or ineffectual, especially by degrading or frustrating means.
** miasma - a dangerous, foreboding, or deathlike influence or atmosphere.
***despondent - feeling or showing profound hopelessness, dejection, discouragement, or gloom.
-from Dictionary.com

Jumble

It's one thing or another, but it is all crap.

We caught Diva in a lie again. It seems she stole her brother's birthday card and the check that Superman's parents sent. She just "found" the card, but it had no check in it. She claims she found it that way, already opened without the check. We know from my in-laws that they sent it here with a check in it. I hate the bullsh!t.

I have little or no drive. No get-up-and-go. I don't care about school right now. It might just be a bad day, a bad hormone surge, not enough sleep... I don't know. I don't care. I just don't care.

I have decided to drop that social psychology class. It is stupid and useless and makes no sense for anything that is important to me.

Dizzy. Head hurts. Stomach upset. Angry at Diva. Angry at the world. Trying hard to give a shit about anything. Tired. Want to go hide somewhere.

This Just In: Diva slipped the "missing" check under my office door. She "miraculously" found it. The lying, cheating, little snit. Get this - she had stuck it in her Bible. If I were God (thankfully I'm not) I'd smite her with a bolt of lightning. I have no hope for this girl. None. I have little hope for anything right now, actually. My stomach hurts.

The self-loathing is palpable. I want to ask questions, but I know there are no answers so the questions do no good. My brain hurts.

I am angry. Very very very very angry. Must. Stay. Away. From. Diva. Will hurt her if I can reach her. Have an urge to beat the shit out of her with a long stick.

Noise. Too much input, no place to put it. Hurt. Confused.

But wait, there's more! She just brought me a digital camera, a nice Vivitar 8.1 mega pixel red thing that I've never seen before. Says it belongs to a friend of hers. Riiiiiight. She went on an outing with the church group yesterday. I'm sure she stole this from one of the girls on the trip. This child has serious problems. I have serious problems with this child.

This post is depressing me. I can't imagine it's doing you any good either. You should ignore it and go on to the next blog.

Enough of this rediculous cheerfulness

It is time to get back to the clusterfuck that is my life.

Diva got herself kicked out of summer school this morning. Diva was angry because she was put with a different working buddy at math time. The pairing was rearranged because she had begun getting too chatty with her other work buddy, laughing and playing instead of working. In her anger she wrote "Fuck Mrs. H_____" (her teacher) on her worksheet. One of the other teachers overheard her say "I'm going to kill Mrs. H______." She was sent to the office. I got a call.

And let's talk about Sproing. Remember him? That "sweet" little boy who yesterday said "I haven't stolen anything today, Mommy." He can't say that today. Diva lost a tooth, and the tooth fairy gave her a dollar last night. Sproing stole her dollar, rode his bike to the convenience store, and bought some candy with his sister's money. He isn't supposed to steal. Duh. He isn't allowed to ride to the convenience store. He can't have candy any ol' time he choses. And now he can't go with his Dad to the scout camp to see Twitch. He gets bupkis. I believe we'll have gruel for supper.

Diva is spending the remainder of the day in her room. She is supposed to be cleaning up in there. Last time I looked in on her she was sitting on the floor singing to her teddy bear. I took her teddy bear away, told her to clean. I still hear singing. I don't have the emotional strength to look in on her again right now.

Children will be children. This is no excuse for bad behavior. Bad behavior needs to be punished; discipline is necessary. The behavior I see in my children now, if it continues, will cause serious legal trouble when they get just a little bit older. It is unacceptable behavior. They know better than this!! It's not like I never tell them, haven't taught them right from wrong. They just seem to not care. I care.

I know the sorts of things I need to do with them/to them (I'm afraid to get close enough to touch them right now. I'm afraid I might not be able to control my urge to smack them across the face.) They need discipline, hard work, close supervision.

What do I need? Is it wrong for me to feel overwhelmed? Frustrated? Like my world is spinning rapidly out of control? I'm lost.

It never gets any better

Here are the visual aids for the previous post. This first picture is for comparison and a piece of background information. See the bit of the wheel well on the right? There, in front of the door. It should have a piece of molding over it, continuing the line of the curve and filling in the triangular gap. I knocked that piece of fiberglass molding off a couple of years ago when I was backing up too close to a post. I was watching behind me and forgot to check the front. This is on the driver's side of the car. My bad.

This is the front wheel well on the passenger side of the car. See that bit of wheel well on the left? There, in front of the door. It should have a piece of molding over it, continuing the line of the curve and filling in the triangular gap.
That's what S did yesterday when he backed his car out of the driveway and got too close to the van. He also knocked off that metal rim that covers the inner edge of the tire. Either he or Superman knocked it back on there. It looks alright now. So there is no difference between what S did yesterday and what I did 2 years ago. Should I really be making a fuss?

It isn't about the van. It's about the stress. Or something. Or is it all about me? Should I just shrug my shoulders and get on with my life?

Here is the crack in Manny's windshield. It's a bit tricky to see. This is from the inside of the cab.

And here's the origin of the crack. Does that look to you like it was hit with a rock or something? This is the outside of the windshield. This one needs to be repaired.
The windshield has had some scuffs in it since before I got the truck. The whole surface of the windshield is pitted. I have needed a new one from the beginning. Now the insurance will pay for the repair. I was pissed off to see this crack, but at the same time was glad that I finally get a new windshield for the ol' boy.

Today was a hard day for me. I am so worn out by all the shit in my life. I've been tired, tired, tired all day. Not so much sleepy (well, I was this afternoon, and had a lovely nap) but just worn down to nuthin'.

Sproing was being his usual annoying self this morning. His self-defined purpose in life is to get on other people's nerves. He is very good at it. It brings him a perverse joy. I am so tired of dealing with it, of trying to convince him to have a friendly, helpful attitude, to get along nicely with his siblings (and his parents!).

I think it shouldn't be this hard. Maybe I'm disillusioned, and parenting really is this dreadful. It just seems wrong to me that I dread spending time with my child. Is it me, or is it him? Or both?

I had a tearful talk with the boy this morning. He was dry-eyed, I was tearful. I told him how discouraged I was. I try to teach him the right way to behave, to have good manners and treat others with respect. Really, though, he knows how to do it. I told him he did. I said, though, what I cannot do is make him behave well. That's something he has to decide for himself.

He and Diva both lie and steal. Someone stole some cash out of my wallet recently. "Nobody" did it, of course. I told Sproing today that it is incredibly important for him to make good decisions about how he conducts himself NOW, while he is 10 years old. Because what he does now sets the precedents for what he'll do when he is older. I asked him if, when he is grown up, he wants to be known as a thief and a liar. He said he didn't. I told him he MUST begin NOW to make those changes in his behavior so that he is not a thief and a liar.

Maybe the discussion will do some good. He told me late this afternoon that he hadn't stolen anything today. Oy. Well, good for you, dear. Keep up the good work.

I need to have a similar discussion with Diva at some point soon. She lies and steals a lot, too. She tends to be nicer to people than Sproing is, usually, although she can be a real foul-mouthed bitch when she gets on her high horse.

Damn this is hard work. Damn I'm tired.