Sharing the crazy

Well now. One has to admit at some point that life is a wee bit unpredictable. Put bluntly. My life has turned to chaos again. I have this urge to hide in my bed for a week, alone preferably.

I work very hard. I have a day job and I am a make-up artist and I write articles for a few people and places. I am the poster child for that annoying idea that there are 24 hours available to use in each and every day (I just sorta sing-songed that in my mind annoying even myself) but I am reaching that point where I am wondering if ever maybe just *one* of those hours could be just for me?

The nanny left very suddenly after a fight with her husband over the weekend where he refused to let her return to work, this has left me all kinds of pissed off and completely screwed. My mother has said she will help this week which kinda gives me a gap to make another plan, i am resourceful, I do not doubt we will find another nanny BUT WTF?!! You welcome a person into your life, into your home and into your family, your children get attached and you get into a routine that works. How then does a person just walk away? No notice and not even the decency to sound regretful about any of it. If ever I see that woman again I will not be held liable for what I do to her.

All of that means also suddenly having to do my jobs and the job of housekeeper, kill me?  Not that its the end of the world mind you, shit has to be done and I am the mother/fiancé etc and by default it is my job *sigh*  I am tired.  Tired me is grumpy me.  Now I am not exactly the most socially graceful person on a normal day, remove sufficient sleep and a sense of humour and I am likely spit out insults at the speed of an AK-47.  Not that I dislike people in all honesty.  I am just less inclined to humour stupidity or sweeping uninformed statements.  I get asked my opinion a fair amount and in my present state of tired and stress fuelled honesty I am going to clear something up for everyone.  You worry about YOUR house, YOUR kids, YOUR pets and YOUR shit.  Keep your nose out of what others are doing unless it in some way directly affects you or they ask your opinion.  This applies to most things, birth choice, parenting style, preferred method of contraception, clothing and pretty much everything else.  I do not get why people are so judgemental, I tend to say it as I see it, maybe too honest for my own good but who am I to judge, moreover, why should I care?

At the same time though I seem to be biting my tongue a lot these days, I *want* to say how odd looking some people’s kids are but I haven’t (maybe there is still some hope for me) and its not to be mean some kids are just odd looking is all.  I also want to tell some people to get the fuck over themselves and stop moaning about crap that only they can change.  Haven’t done that either for fear of really finally losing the plot and alienating *everyone* and being forced to be a hermit for all eternity.  Oddly, the idea of being a hermit kinda appeals.  I could stop flat ironing my hair and putting on make-up, would stop shaving my legs for my own personal sanity, ditto on teeth brushing but perhaps I could master a growl and crazy eyes?  Maybe I need to get some sleep rather?  I don’t even know anymore and am just too tired to care.

We have also decided to move the wedding back by six months purely because otherwise I am likely to fall asleep at my own wedding or go postal and kill the guests.  I just have too much going on right now to attempt to look all sweet and pretty and stand and promise forever to someone.  I would likely have a panic attack at the alter when the mister starts saying things like till death you do part.  *That* is serious stuff afterall, not a decision to be taken lightly and certainly not vows you want to take in the midst of a potential anxiety attack.  I am ok with moving the date, I feel better for having done it and now also have more time to stop smashing food in my face to avoid having to be lifted by crane to my spot during the ceremony as opposed to gliding gracefully down the aisle.  And so you know with my current need for cheese on everything and love for all things food this in entirely possible.  Must go to gym and eat more salad and stuff *note to self*

If after having read this post you are a little concerned about my mental health, welcome to my world, hope you like it here, the native language is weird, enjoy your stay J  I know that many things in this post are contradictions and a lot of what I have written is rubbish so can you actually *imagine* what is coming out of my mouth?!!  If you want to help feel free to send chocolate or coffee, or both.  If you want to be sworn at feel free to leave a stupid question or ask me for a favour.

Till later then.  I have some work to pretend to do.


On not being a “mommy blogger”

I was asked a question this weekend that I had never anticipated having to answer, why do I not blog about my dealings with my children?  Why I am not a “mommy blogger”.  I can answer this quite easily though.  I love my kids.  Very much.  If I blogged my parenting  journey, it would likely appear I do not.  Perplexed?  Let me explain.

I had my first baby when I was just a baby myself.  Monster entered the world roughly two months before my 17th birthday.  I was bewildered and overwhelmed and pretty much stumbled through my very quick transformation from wild child to mother.  I do not blame my age or lack of experience for the fact that many times I found myself staring at my cherubic little baby and wondering why I had chosen to keep him.  I still wonder now if perhaps giving him up would have been kinder to him.

A number of years later, and add two more kids and a lot of bad mommy moments and I am now at a point where I realise, perhaps I am not the best giver of parenting advice.  I have been known to tell my children when they are being arseholes by actually calling them arseholes.  I threaten violence and I have a rather unorthodox approach to child rearing in general.

I am the mom who will sucker punch a kid for having done the same thing to their sibling, or who will insist a child go an hour without anything to eat or drink around a meal time for having neglected to feed a pet.  I have told my eldest child he is a sucky big brother because he tries to get his younger siblings into trouble as opposed to sticking up for them.  I let my kids eat junk for breakfast sometimes because frankly it is easier than having to make food for all of them. 

I am not a “natural mother” or one of those moms who brags that my kid is cuter, smarter, more well behaved or nicer.  In fact, I am the mother marvelling at the little ballerinas and child prodigies thinking to myself that those kids *must* be medicated or well trained or something.  My daughter thinks ballet is lame, tennis is ok and netball is very girly and really not her cup of tea.  That said though, she plays netball every week and we have insisted on at least one extra mural and chucking a ball around apparently beats having to wear a tutu.  She is on her way to proving you actually can fail grade one by means of just not caring I think.  She takes her dear sweet time getting her work done at school, realises she is not going to finish and then crumples it and shoves it in her chair bag.  She has lost roughly three years worth of stationery since January and has just now lost her second message book and homework diary.  Her teacher has suggested in a round -about fashion that I am an awful mother who should spend more time bonding with my child.  She also suggests more routine and structure and taking the time to ensure that Princess has all her stuff ready every morning.

Gah.  Note to moron teacher for a moment.  I have another kid also in school right?  He actually has a diagnosed concentration issue.  His teacher *raves* about his work and diligence and the quality of his work, including homework actually so *I* can’t be doing all that poorly in the mothering department.  And FFS, one and for all.  My daughter is six, she has a mind of her own and *you* do not know how to communicate with her.  She is not dyslexic or stupid, OK?!!!

The eldest seems to have developed an attitude of epic proportions, something about getting older with boys that does this.  I usually want to kill him for the month that follows his birthday, right now, more so than ever.  Don’t get me wrong.  He is smart, and cute and considerate and generally very nice.  Problem is all this is only reserved for those he is not related to.  To make this kid who is all arms and legs and big toothy grin swings between being mom’s boy and enemy number one.  He can be so damned obnoxious I can see myself locking him in the aviary in our back yard just for some peace and quiet.  The worst by far though is the constant whining.  The kid is going to make a great man cos bitch can he bitch.  About absolutely everything.

The little one, or Squishy, is generally very sweet but there are moments I would like to return him to sender as well.  His latest trick is to pick up whatever he can get his hands on, generally coffee mugs and glasses, and throw them full force on the floor.  I am not charmed.  Not at all.  He also just tends not to take me too seriously, he runs to dad for comfort, which he gets, which is a whole other post.

Ok let me simplify this.  I once drove my children into the middle of a township and made them watch the kids there for a good half hour.  We sat there while I pointed out that those children don’t have nice shoes or clothes, they don’t have toys, and many of them aren’t even lucky enough to go to school never mind a nice school like theirs’.  I use this outing as a point of reference for them.  When they bork their clothes I remind them that there are kids who would be grateful to have nice clothes to wear.  When they complain about being bored I suggest packing up their toys and taking them to the same kids.  I am somewhat sadistic with punishment.

Monster was crying like a baby over some crap once, I made him go and play with his friends with a nappy on, it was cruel, but it worked.  I have sent them out half dressed and forced them to eat the rubbish they concoct in the kitchen.  I have threatened to cut off hands, burn fingers, slam fingers in drawers and doors.  I have locked a screaming child outside of my front door and told her to go and find a mommy who wants to deal with tantrums.  I have told my children to fuck off in no uncertain terms and refused to do nice things for them because of their less than “nice” behaviour.  I have sticky taped naughty kids to a wall and fed my kids peanut butter sandwhiches for dinner.

*This* is why I do not blog more about my kids.  You are all likely in the middle of dialling the number for the local welfare office.  I am likely going to be lambasted for my honesty and frankly don’t care.  I’ll take your input when it is your kids I am raising.  Until then, feel free to pray for my kids, goodness knows with a crazy-arsed mother like me, they could probably use it.