*Make My Day
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Leaving Jupite for Neptune
Some days you just feel guilty, because as much as you love your child there are moments when you really wish you weren't a mom, or more specifically you weren't your child's mom.
Warren has a good day in school as far as I can tell, but something at home made him pissy as heck.
If I had know his bike had a problem I wouldn't have used it. I didn't know when he left that I would be using it or I would have said something. I really don't appreciate being called a liar.
When I go to the trouble of riding a bike 4 miles to buy somebody new pants and a new shirt and they just take an yeah whatever attitude and leave said clothes on the floor my feelings are hurt, sue me I'm human too.
When same said person refuses to eat the grilled cheese I made him, because it "wasn't melty enough, and could have just been toast and cheese" I also get my feelings hurt.
When said person gets more upset at me for being upset at him for not appreciting things, I get really upset.
Spending the better part of the morning at the County Courthouse reading police reports on some of my idiot ex's more recent and infamous misdeeds, tends to leave me in less than a wonderful mood to begin with.
Seeing my son act like a smaller younger version of his father tends to push my explode on contact button.
It's not that I expect him to kiss my feet or be all "Golly gee Beaver", or hug me every five minutes because I'm the world's greatest mom. But is it too much to expect a thank you once in a while, to expect him to eat a nutritiious meal I made with love, instad of what Jasper's mom made, or some deep fried lard and sugar bomb from Taco bell.
Is it too much to expect a little respect, a little awknowledgement that it may not look like it to him, but I bust my ass for him, and if he thinks that attitude will fly in the real world when he is paying his own bills, he is in for one hell of a suprise in a few years.
Is it wrong to want to feel, like something more than a walking ATM machine that does laundry, and dishes.
When did I stop being cool mommy, he loved to hang around with, and become Mom the housework fairy, who dispenses cash and calls the pizza guy.
Is it possisble to love somebody, when sometimes you really don't like them very much?
I've decided Bill Cosby was right. Babies are false advertiesing. They are all cute and cuddly and when they are clean they smell nice. They think you are the greatest thing since warm milk, and look up at you with adoring eyes. What the doctor's don't tell you, is that 13 years later, same said adoring fan, will think you are old, obsolete and totally opposite of cool.
I wish I could runaway from home.
On the brightside. I went thru my closet last night, and I now have a whole bunch more clothes to wear. Clothes I forgot (went into denial about), I had, that used to be too small and are now either great fitting or even too big. That should make me happy. Instead it just makes me more depressed for some reason. I hate my thighs. If I were on the Donner party they'd have all gained ten pounds just from Cranky drumsticks.
O#*$)*#)$*#)@*#_)*_!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and a couple of F*bombs too
Prequels ~ Sequels
Music of the mind: :
~*~Have you read these~*~
~ Ode to a child who is no more ~
~ She's baaack ~
~ testing ~
~ Facebook me ~
~ Bleech ~
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In every neighborhood there is at least one house that all the neighbors gossip about. This is a diary from the woman who lives in that house. I am a single mother in her mid thirties. I live in North Dakota with my son, Warren.
I tend to be a bit of a slob, and am the opposite of a girly-girl. I am geek girl, who loves Star Wars, Star Trek, Harry Potter, Buffy, Angel, action movies, science fiction, action adventure, Dr. Who, and so on and so on.
I love to write and while I don't post much fiction online anymore I would love to be a writer someday. I am also overweight, bipolar and suffer from allergy induced asthma.