Monday, September 20, 2010

I Guess I Should Blog About Something

I was just thinking about that when I looked at the clock. Dang it. Past midnight again.

I've noticed I have this problem where I can't think of a thing to blog about because part of my brain screams who flippin cares??? I have that very thought every time I go on Twitter. I don't even care what I'm doing, so why would anyone else? One of the boys said I should put Ah, feel better now - flush!

This is what I live with.

Then there are other times I think omgosh I have GOT to blog about that but then it never happens. Or I forget. Or don't want to have backlash or nosey people getting all up in my bizness. Or have attempted to beat my brain into submission with a bag of cookies.

The List - it is endless.

There is that trusty mallet but Hubby was giving me weird looks lately so I think he may have hidden it. Just because I'm not embracing the 45 brazillionth Nerf war does not mean I'm a party pooper. However, I'm a bit offended that he foiled all my attempts at escape.

I have my reasons. They go in random order.

We need to go grocery shopping. That alone is enough for me to want to hide in a corner. I'm going to attempt at putting Hubby down for the majority of dinners and see how long it takes him to figure out I am totally trying to Shanghai him. But with his Jedi mind tricks, he probably already knows about it.

Number the next one. I'm not looking forward to Monday and I just remembered I'm supposed to pull out and dust off ye olde microscope for a couple science project J has to do. If I whimper and beg for mercy will it magically fast forward to next weekend?

Reason beyond that, N is driving us all nuts with the countdown to his b-day - that is in November!! I think he said it's 6 weeks and 6 days or something like that. He has talked about getting a DSi 237 brazillion times. Yes, I am still beating that dead horse into the ground. There are sales going on with those bad boys so knowing my luck and lack of it, I convinced Hubby to get the stuff now rather than wait out of concern the sale would be no more. While part of me is saying woo hoo you saved $30 x 2, the reality is I can't even use the bathroom without someone in this house knowing about it. I have no secrets in the house of spies sooo word has gotten out. The boy is causing that one nerve - the tough scary broad of a nerve to start to pulse. Annnd he can't stop himself either.

Wonder how well he can chew through rope?

At least M has learned a long time ago to drop it. Nary a peep out of him about it. He said N is annoying me enough for 2 people. Such a wise child, he is.

On top of that auntie flo has been hanging around waay too long. Try week number 4. Which really bums me out because I gave a whole post on how I was able to pray that bee-yatch back into a corner and why that didn't work this round was a blow for me on several levels. It has left me rather weak too. I had to use pillows to prop my arms up a few days ago.

But what made it, oh so special, was my Mom called over the weekend. She said I was on her mind and wanted to know what was going on. The double sided sword with this is if anyone knows what I'm going through, it is my Mom. She's gone through all kinds of woman issues, had at least 7 miscarriages, ended up having a hysterectomy in her early 40s. I didn't have to hear the Captain Obvious questions of are you taking your iron pills or gosh why haven't you gotten this fixed yet? She ran me through a truck load of the tests when I was a teenager. Having been through it herself, she knows the drill.

But...

You just knew there was going to be one.

Mom was on my case that I wasn't praying enough. Now, that does get old real quick. Just what every person needs - to get kicked when they are already feeling down. The crappy part is for whatever reason, I didn't enter this battle prayed up. I was sort of hoping that my bod was going to snap to it and actually work. I think by week 3 it hit me, hey what's the deal? Lack of blood flow to the brain? Who knows? But my attitude was not great and you could just forget about praying it away. So I had to sit there and take the kersmack I had coming. From my Mom. Dang it.

The hard thing is Mom then went off that I need to forgive them or God isn't going to do squat. She said a few other things that did set what little blood I have left to a full boil.

What's more judgemental than a speeding bullet? Able to wound just by taking in air? It's Mom-a-nader! The ultimate mess with your head fighting machine.

I then spent the rest of the weekend trying not to stew over it but tried to hand that over to God to deal with. I did say tried. I think stewing may have won. I'll be honest, there are moments when I feel finding peace with my Mom is just not going to happen. I look at the condition of my heart, the wounds that have been done to it, and think if my getting better is hanging on this than I'm pretty much screwed.

I know, I'm such a freakin peach to be around. It truly is a wonder why I'm able to drive the masses away with my up-beat positive outlook on life.

Cricket, cricket

Moving right along...

The funny part of the conversation I had with mumsy was she was actually trying to be a concern parent. I may, or may not, have asked how much wine was involved to get this warm glowy feeling and she told me I'm a pain and handed me off to my Dad as surely he would be able to talk some sense into me.

Har-de-har-har! That's a good one.

Trouble is Dad was either in pain, or was royally ticked off at me. He was very clipped in the conversation so when I asked if he was feeling ok I was reminded that last weekend was my Mom's b-day. I'm thinking royally ticked off wins this round.

I said I know as I sent a card. Huge, people, huge. I didn't even address it to Cruella so I'm hoping God is willing to grade on a curve for that one. I think Dad was mad I didn't call. He asked if I got the email Mom sent saying she liked the card and I said yes. He said there is a button on the top called reply.

Talk about leaving yourself wiiiide open.

I said well that is rather confusing because to which am I to reply to? Am I to reply to the person, the content of the email, or just give a blurp of glad you got the card? I then got a 5 minute lecture on how I need to honor my father and mother so the days of my life can be long. Because goodness knows, I'm looking so forward to 4o more years of this mental minefield of emotional sewage.

Mom piped up that it didn't matter, I sent a card and she was happy with that. I'm not really sure what was said after that cuz I may have dropped the phone from shock.

And this is only half of the list of my reasons for wanting to escape.

4 comments:

Dianne said...

In response to the honor your parents comment from dear old dad, the Bible also says Fathers, provoke not your children to wrath. Maybe you want to store that for future usage. Just doing what I can for my peep...

Joanna said...

You know I never thought of using that one. I'm usually so steamed I'm just trying to end the conversation.

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