*Make My Day
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The stained carpet not taken
Thanks everyone who signed my guestbook. I know I'm not the first or the last mother who ever felt that way. I hope I wasn't implying that no one would understand as I didn't mean it that way. I just meant it seems to be something a little more. Sort of a bad case of wondering what was down that road not travelled. Its something I'll have to come to terms with on my own eventually. With all the stress and so forth, I've just been wondering more than usual about all the roads in my life I chose not to take, and how maybe things could have been different. Which has part of me resenting my son, and then the other part feeling guilty over that.
Take this weekend. Saturday I spent the better part of the day playing find that stink. I totally cleaned the kitchen within an inch of its life, I took the bedscompletely appart and washed all of the sheets and totally Fabreezing the matress. By that evening the kitchen was again full of dishes and still a smell. Then while sitting with Warren I notice a mysterious brown stain on one of the pockets of his back-back. So I do some further investigating. It took about two minutes to discover the nature of the problem. Warren told me is was spilled pop. Not quite.. spilled pop doesn't have pits. I made the mistake of sticking my hand in the pocket. Bad idea. Apparently some body took a plum for snack (he loves plums) and forgot it. In this heat it didnt take long for it to turn from sweet delicious and healthy snack food, to stinky, fuzzy, mushy bug attraction. It was so disgusting, I couldnt' even deal with it. I ended up washing the whole thing. Luckily it came out wonderfully.
Then there is the living room. I yelled at him many times to clean it up. His idea was to just put everythign in piles out of the way. It took until Sunday before I finally got it vacuumed. And it still looks like crap. And then there was the paint incident. This weekend he developed a full blown obsession with repainting his matchbox cars. This resulted in a spill on the throw rug in the living room. Of course I was upstairs at the time, and instead of telling me, he tried to clean it himself.......with BATHROOM cleaner. Needless to say, that didnt' work. And turned it from a gold stain to a blue stain.. I threw out the throw rug, which was stained already anyway, and discovered there is also now a blue stain on the carpet. I couldn't even yell or cry. I just swore under my breath and left the room. (It didn't help I had a major headache from swimming that afternoon.)
Not that it was all bad, Sunday morning Warren decided to make pancakes for breakfast. Except that he didnt' ask for help or check the directions. One small box of Bisquick plus milk. The pancakes were a little burned but otherwise not bad. The kitchen looked like cyclone hit it, and there was enough pancake batter to feed the neighborhood. Warren didnt' like his pancakes though, and was upset because of that. I tried not to laugh, he tried so hard. I added a few eggs to the batter and then put it away in the fridge.
The afternoon he wanted to go swimming, so I went. After lifeguard break I just wanted to layout, so Warren went swimming. About 45 minutes later he comes back and wants to go home. Then he looks at me "You didn't really want to come did you".
Sure pile on the guilt. We come back home and he is hungry so decide lets fry up some of the fixed up pancake batter. Which led to another fight, because he wanted to do it himself, and instead of standing back and letting him learn and do it his way, I was to busy trying to make sure he does it RIGHT!! Something I need to work on.
By Sunday evening I just needed a break. I had taken a small on Saturday when I left Warren for about an hour to run to the grocery store, which did wonders. Sunday I felt like I needed another one. Only this time Warren decided he didn't feel like staying home. So he came with. So much for a break. Just a bunch of whining,
why can't we have that, don't stop so long, I wanna go, can we leave now..
He's just acting like a normal ten year old, but right now I just don't seem to feel like dealing with it. Maybe its just the money stress, but I keep wondering what life would be like if I had not gotten pregnan or if I had given him up. Then I look at him and feel even more guilty, because its not his fault, and because he is MY baby and I do love him, even when he makes me nuts.
Don't feel sorry for me, I know I'll work it out eventutally. I'm sure I'm not the only mother who's ever wondered what if, either.
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.