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Dribbles and Grits to Crumpets and Bollocks: Post Mother's Day Anti-Depression

Post Mother's Day Anti-Depression

http://www.inkcinct.com.au/
I've read a lot of charming blogs about Mothers Day. I saw a lot of Facebook posts of moms getting breakfast in bed, bubbles baths to read their favorite book, beautiful pics of visiting a grandma or something... Here's my secret. I hate Mother's Day. It ranks up there with Valentine's Day. It's a limp dick. A holiday designed to give you orgasmic level expectations to leave you sitting frustrated and disappointed because there just isn't enough blood pumping in the right place at the right time leaving you with a useless sack of sperm to play with making you go "completely nuts." And you can't be pissed because you love the impotent person enough to not hurt their feelings. So when I see pictures of women enjoying a bubble bath (no nudity duh), I want to diabolically throw glitter all over them and their perfectly clean bathroom to truly make them sparkle. Nothing personal. Just jealousy.

My mother's day was not a good day for the most part. I don't think it was my negativity that did me in. I actually started off the day positive.




Mind you too, I endured that day with a migraine, the period, a swollen ankle that I supposedly sprained 2 months ago but obviously did a little more damage than that, and i can't prove it because the 3 trips to the doctor's office over it were all about how it's normal for an ankle to still be swollen. I was also tired since I accidentally took my kid's antihistamine aiming for my Tussin. And I have the snot monster cold, meaning my throat hurts, I'm coughing every 5 seconds like death, and I have green ooze coming out of my nose.

In addition, a few days ago, and I hate to admit this on a blog, but I will because I think some people can sadly empathize to an extent... I was damn near suicidal. The only thing to stop me was the fact that I didn't have a babysitter for it. Here's a list of my current goals to explain...

1. Divorce-- more expensive than getting married. Just like a wedding, requires a shit ton of planning. I do hope to be the most beautiful anti-bride on that big day. I think my colors are going to be Funeral Black and Mistress Red. If I could just get the date planned. The husband doesn't seem to care when it happens, like the sooner the better. I mean we are in anti-love, young anti-love. But, we just don't want to rush it since that would mean getting 2 big houses furnished for the kids...

2. Do my resume-- I know this sounds like an item on a to do list, but for me in my world, it's a long term goal. Why? Because I do everything with my children, so it takes about a thousand times longer to accomplish something. But I do kind of need an income if I plan on being a single mom. I'm a little old to actually get paid for hooking or any other "worst case scenario" solutions I had going for the last decade.

3. Write a book-- Face it. Nobody wants to hire a mom who has been out of work for so long. This is my back up plan. I was thinking of telling the story about my in laws and the possible Santeria curse, except I'm going to label the book fiction because I don't think anyone will believe me that it's a true story, plus i can deny being a part of it. This way, my inlaws can fund the divorce (usually the anti-bride's family pays for such events, usually because most of the gifts are for the anti-bride like 17 different blenders or is that weddings?).

4. Clean the house--- I keep saying this for years. I really do want to have a clean house. Some day I suppose I will get it. Until then, I'll just keep cleaning and cleaning and cleaning. In case you missed it, I have 3 children under the age of 7, and one is hyperactive high functioning autism. Did you read the part about the sofa?

5. Beat up the demon--- He might be a hallucination. He might be the Santeria Curse. He might be an actual demon who has been in this house disguising himself as a little boy for the last 3 years and is the cause of things like the constant mess and the divorce. Negativity spawns negativity. I did try burning sage. Made it worse. Holy water helps though, so that's what has me thinking it might not be a chronic sleep deprived hallucination. Either way, I beat it up once, but since it fucks with me every time I try to sleep, I really would like to kill the little bugger. He will be in the book if I ever get to write it.

6. Get a new car--- All 3 cars are in the shop. Two of them are totally done for. Nothing like a car payment before getting divorced.

7. Clean myself up from addiction--- I'm addicted to Motrin. Actually NSAIDS in general. I take at least 400 mg a day up to the 1600 mg limit. Why? If my ankle doesn't hurt from tripping over that pebble months ago running to a crying kid diving into a mud puddle (I might of did a flip without a high dive), then it's my knees. See, I'm double jointed, and now I'm old, and they don't make WD40 for people. Only tin men in Oz get that kind of medical care. But then, there's the children induced migraines. It's not just me. They give other people migraines too.

I am honestly getting to a point where I just don't want to do it anymore. I'm sick of cleaning a mess that gets dirty the instant I clean it. I'm sick of taking care of everyone else because I'm totally neglecting myself, and nobody will let me take care of myself. Not at all. Not just my children, but also the husband, my family, my friends... I'm being consumed by people. I don't know how to make it stop. It's like I'm in a black hole, and I struggle and struggle just to prolong the sucking into the abyss thinking I'm close to getting out but no where near it.

Then Mother's Day Miracle (if you use your imagination)... I'm talking to my mother on the phone after the day decided to shut the fuck up for us...

When my mother was in college and dating her first husband, he was working down the street from her mom's house. She borrowed his car for school. So they met up every day at my grandmother's house at noon for lunch. My grandmother, every day, made them a nice lunch. My mother said, at that time, she didn't realize how special that was for my grandmother to do for them. She didn't realize how much work it was.

But this story cleared up a misconception I had. My grandmother was an alcoholic. She died Christmas of 1998 from liver failure. I was under the impression that grandma started drinking at motherhood. I mean the woman had 7 kids, couldn't drive (no license), and was poor. Her part time jobs, she walked to them. I just assumed that sucked so bad she had to drink. But my mother informed me her alcoholism started after the kids grew up and moved out. She was so depressed when she had nobody to take care of that she really enjoyed those little things like making lunch for my mom and her boyfriend every day.

My mom swore to me that I may not see this now... When I was my kids' age, she couldn't wait for me to grow up too. But some day, I will feel that same pain my grandmother felt, and my mother felt. That pain of boredom. The pain of figuring shit out and getting into the groove of the chaos with the kids for it to totally fucking disappear and leave me bored.

Because I score high on the IQ test for the visioning things part, you know, taking a 2D object and making it 3D in my head... I can see that. I can almost feel that. I can imagine my house empty, void of the chaos my children bring, and that is truly depressing... That future just gave me clarity that I desperately needed.

My grandmother used to say, "Life is great, as long as we don't weaken." 

Now how's that for supermom? Who else can nurse her granddaughter through a very trying time in her life from the grave? My grandma. Badass. And through who? My momma, BadAss Junior. All so that BadAss the third can get her groove on.




For reference, my Mother's Day Facebook Statuses...

This one, the first one, I made the extra attempt at being perky and positive.

Happy Mother's Day to all the women out there, whether you have kids or not, because I think if you don't have kids, celebrating this day anyway is the only way you will get to celebrate this day with all the shit implied with this day. A day to yourself. To get a break. To relax. The only way you get to do that as mom is to celebrate this day BEFORE you become a mom. So Happy Mother's Day to all you people who have a uterus. To all you moms out there, if your things you married and your spawns let you have some time to yourself, you should totally thank them with some home cooked meal tomorrow or next week. So far, we'll be ordering pizza. And to everyone who is all "this is the day we appreciate moms for their hard work," Fuck You. You should do that every day you dirty bastard.

and then

Well today royally sucked. It sucked, swallowed, and then spat what was swallowed. This day was just a dirty whore.
I wrote it all out about the day. It's long. Like 2000 words long. I'm so tempted to post it somewhere public for all those involved.

Let me remind family members something. I blog. I blog about my life. While I currently blog anonymous, that is soon about to change. Maybe if I blogged these adventures I experience in Jerry Springer Wonderland, maybe people would actually start acting in a way that wouldn't embarrass themselves if they read about it on the internet. Seriously, if all of you are so righteous, then it shouldn't bother anyone for me to tell the world should it?

and then

AND in the future, I love children. I don't mind babysitting other people's children. BUT I am overwhelmed. Most of you this refers to can't possibly understand that with your simple easy lives full of people doing most of your work for you, but that doesn't change the fact that YOUR KID IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. If you want YOUR kid home to YOUR HOUSE at a certain time, then YOU need to get YOUR HAPPY ASS over here and pick up YOUR kid. If you want me to drive YOUR kid anywhere with my 3 kids to get them home for any reason, you are on MY SCHEDULE. That same situation is now in effect for my mother as well. You are not entitled to favors. AND you could be a little more appreciative of them as well.




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Dribbles and Grits to Crumpets and Bollocks: Post Mother's Day Anti-Depression

Monday, May 13, 2013

Post Mother's Day Anti-Depression

http://www.inkcinct.com.au/
I've read a lot of charming blogs about Mothers Day. I saw a lot of Facebook posts of moms getting breakfast in bed, bubbles baths to read their favorite book, beautiful pics of visiting a grandma or something... Here's my secret. I hate Mother's Day. It ranks up there with Valentine's Day. It's a limp dick. A holiday designed to give you orgasmic level expectations to leave you sitting frustrated and disappointed because there just isn't enough blood pumping in the right place at the right time leaving you with a useless sack of sperm to play with making you go "completely nuts." And you can't be pissed because you love the impotent person enough to not hurt their feelings. So when I see pictures of women enjoying a bubble bath (no nudity duh), I want to diabolically throw glitter all over them and their perfectly clean bathroom to truly make them sparkle. Nothing personal. Just jealousy.

My mother's day was not a good day for the most part. I don't think it was my negativity that did me in. I actually started off the day positive.


  • I tried to write and didn't get to because I was servicing my kids (not feeding them, but things like getting them that thing that is 2 feet in front of them and breaking up fist fights) too frequent to focus or be creative. 
  • Then Mother Nature gave me her Mother's Day present (the monthly uterine wrecking ball), and of course, I'm out of all my hygiene products... 
  • Why do I sometimes call my oldest kid Hercules? Let me see your 6 year old daughter rip out a RECLINING sectional piece of the sofa to the middle of the floor and flip it, and tear out a piece of drywall for fun. 
  • What goes better with eggs than a heaping cup of Baking Soda? Accidentally dumping baking soda on your frying dozen eggs while looking for the missing baking powder for pancakes, now that's the priceless shit Mastercard can't buy. So basically, everyone had sandwiches, everyone except me of course because not enough bread. 
  • Then at the brink of passing out from hunger, I got a Big Mac (my mother's day breakfast lunch and dinner) on my way to my mom's house devouring it while driving and handing kids stuff, meaning I just drove like a drunken crazy person, while listening to the wonderful music of my children screaming, squealing (horror movie scream) and fighting. 
  • Drama like Jerry Springer on TNT ensued at mom's house... over me not getting my nephew I was watching home fast enough because that would be my responsibility. And why was it so important? They were planning to take him to his dad's mom's house. Yes, if you are 10 minutes late for that, the apocalypse would definitely begin. Ironically, he was going to be on time, but everybody had to dig their own grave and blame me, why not? It's my fault because I chose to have my children. 
  • Then I took all 3 kids to Dairy Queen by myself, and then devoured 2 slices of different cakes I couldn't taste thanks to the cold (like dieting suicide right there).


Mind you too, I endured that day with a migraine, the period, a swollen ankle that I supposedly sprained 2 months ago but obviously did a little more damage than that, and i can't prove it because the 3 trips to the doctor's office over it were all about how it's normal for an ankle to still be swollen. I was also tired since I accidentally took my kid's antihistamine aiming for my Tussin. And I have the snot monster cold, meaning my throat hurts, I'm coughing every 5 seconds like death, and I have green ooze coming out of my nose.

In addition, a few days ago, and I hate to admit this on a blog, but I will because I think some people can sadly empathize to an extent... I was damn near suicidal. The only thing to stop me was the fact that I didn't have a babysitter for it. Here's a list of my current goals to explain...

1. Divorce-- more expensive than getting married. Just like a wedding, requires a shit ton of planning. I do hope to be the most beautiful anti-bride on that big day. I think my colors are going to be Funeral Black and Mistress Red. If I could just get the date planned. The husband doesn't seem to care when it happens, like the sooner the better. I mean we are in anti-love, young anti-love. But, we just don't want to rush it since that would mean getting 2 big houses furnished for the kids...

2. Do my resume-- I know this sounds like an item on a to do list, but for me in my world, it's a long term goal. Why? Because I do everything with my children, so it takes about a thousand times longer to accomplish something. But I do kind of need an income if I plan on being a single mom. I'm a little old to actually get paid for hooking or any other "worst case scenario" solutions I had going for the last decade.

3. Write a book-- Face it. Nobody wants to hire a mom who has been out of work for so long. This is my back up plan. I was thinking of telling the story about my in laws and the possible Santeria curse, except I'm going to label the book fiction because I don't think anyone will believe me that it's a true story, plus i can deny being a part of it. This way, my inlaws can fund the divorce (usually the anti-bride's family pays for such events, usually because most of the gifts are for the anti-bride like 17 different blenders or is that weddings?).

4. Clean the house--- I keep saying this for years. I really do want to have a clean house. Some day I suppose I will get it. Until then, I'll just keep cleaning and cleaning and cleaning. In case you missed it, I have 3 children under the age of 7, and one is hyperactive high functioning autism. Did you read the part about the sofa?

5. Beat up the demon--- He might be a hallucination. He might be the Santeria Curse. He might be an actual demon who has been in this house disguising himself as a little boy for the last 3 years and is the cause of things like the constant mess and the divorce. Negativity spawns negativity. I did try burning sage. Made it worse. Holy water helps though, so that's what has me thinking it might not be a chronic sleep deprived hallucination. Either way, I beat it up once, but since it fucks with me every time I try to sleep, I really would like to kill the little bugger. He will be in the book if I ever get to write it.

6. Get a new car--- All 3 cars are in the shop. Two of them are totally done for. Nothing like a car payment before getting divorced.

7. Clean myself up from addiction--- I'm addicted to Motrin. Actually NSAIDS in general. I take at least 400 mg a day up to the 1600 mg limit. Why? If my ankle doesn't hurt from tripping over that pebble months ago running to a crying kid diving into a mud puddle (I might of did a flip without a high dive), then it's my knees. See, I'm double jointed, and now I'm old, and they don't make WD40 for people. Only tin men in Oz get that kind of medical care. But then, there's the children induced migraines. It's not just me. They give other people migraines too.

I am honestly getting to a point where I just don't want to do it anymore. I'm sick of cleaning a mess that gets dirty the instant I clean it. I'm sick of taking care of everyone else because I'm totally neglecting myself, and nobody will let me take care of myself. Not at all. Not just my children, but also the husband, my family, my friends... I'm being consumed by people. I don't know how to make it stop. It's like I'm in a black hole, and I struggle and struggle just to prolong the sucking into the abyss thinking I'm close to getting out but no where near it.

Then Mother's Day Miracle (if you use your imagination)... I'm talking to my mother on the phone after the day decided to shut the fuck up for us...

When my mother was in college and dating her first husband, he was working down the street from her mom's house. She borrowed his car for school. So they met up every day at my grandmother's house at noon for lunch. My grandmother, every day, made them a nice lunch. My mother said, at that time, she didn't realize how special that was for my grandmother to do for them. She didn't realize how much work it was.

But this story cleared up a misconception I had. My grandmother was an alcoholic. She died Christmas of 1998 from liver failure. I was under the impression that grandma started drinking at motherhood. I mean the woman had 7 kids, couldn't drive (no license), and was poor. Her part time jobs, she walked to them. I just assumed that sucked so bad she had to drink. But my mother informed me her alcoholism started after the kids grew up and moved out. She was so depressed when she had nobody to take care of that she really enjoyed those little things like making lunch for my mom and her boyfriend every day.

My mom swore to me that I may not see this now... When I was my kids' age, she couldn't wait for me to grow up too. But some day, I will feel that same pain my grandmother felt, and my mother felt. That pain of boredom. The pain of figuring shit out and getting into the groove of the chaos with the kids for it to totally fucking disappear and leave me bored.

Because I score high on the IQ test for the visioning things part, you know, taking a 2D object and making it 3D in my head... I can see that. I can almost feel that. I can imagine my house empty, void of the chaos my children bring, and that is truly depressing... That future just gave me clarity that I desperately needed.

My grandmother used to say, "Life is great, as long as we don't weaken." 

Now how's that for supermom? Who else can nurse her granddaughter through a very trying time in her life from the grave? My grandma. Badass. And through who? My momma, BadAss Junior. All so that BadAss the third can get her groove on.




For reference, my Mother's Day Facebook Statuses...

This one, the first one, I made the extra attempt at being perky and positive.

Happy Mother's Day to all the women out there, whether you have kids or not, because I think if you don't have kids, celebrating this day anyway is the only way you will get to celebrate this day with all the shit implied with this day. A day to yourself. To get a break. To relax. The only way you get to do that as mom is to celebrate this day BEFORE you become a mom. So Happy Mother's Day to all you people who have a uterus. To all you moms out there, if your things you married and your spawns let you have some time to yourself, you should totally thank them with some home cooked meal tomorrow or next week. So far, we'll be ordering pizza. And to everyone who is all "this is the day we appreciate moms for their hard work," Fuck You. You should do that every day you dirty bastard.

and then

Well today royally sucked. It sucked, swallowed, and then spat what was swallowed. This day was just a dirty whore.
I wrote it all out about the day. It's long. Like 2000 words long. I'm so tempted to post it somewhere public for all those involved.

Let me remind family members something. I blog. I blog about my life. While I currently blog anonymous, that is soon about to change. Maybe if I blogged these adventures I experience in Jerry Springer Wonderland, maybe people would actually start acting in a way that wouldn't embarrass themselves if they read about it on the internet. Seriously, if all of you are so righteous, then it shouldn't bother anyone for me to tell the world should it?

and then

AND in the future, I love children. I don't mind babysitting other people's children. BUT I am overwhelmed. Most of you this refers to can't possibly understand that with your simple easy lives full of people doing most of your work for you, but that doesn't change the fact that YOUR KID IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. If you want YOUR kid home to YOUR HOUSE at a certain time, then YOU need to get YOUR HAPPY ASS over here and pick up YOUR kid. If you want me to drive YOUR kid anywhere with my 3 kids to get them home for any reason, you are on MY SCHEDULE. That same situation is now in effect for my mother as well. You are not entitled to favors. AND you could be a little more appreciative of them as well.




Labels: , , , , , , , ,

1 Comments:

At May 14, 2013 at 9:02 AM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

very well written. I was sad until I read the end about grandmamma. Seven kids? cannot imagine. you definitely have your plate full, heaping full -- like a weight lifter at a buffet's several plate fulls.

 

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