Queen of Rambles

. . . because I am D-O-N-E.

I have to get out of here. One more day. Just one more day. Then I can go home to my peaceful house where children don’t throw food on the floor, where drunks don’t sit around stinking up the house, where people clean up their own children’s barf, where there is not non-stop whining. Home, where there aren’t three hairy dogs that create enough fur to knit the entire population of China custom dog hair sweaters. Home, where things aren’t half-assed all the time.

How can I even explain the half-assery of this house? I know I’ve mentioned it before, but it bears mentioning again because it drives me over the edge. My mom loves to paint rooms, but she is a believer in getting things done fast, not well. Every room is covered in a half-assed paint job with bare swipes, paint drips, bad trim, and just plain ugliness. I CAN’T STAND IT.

The floor is always covered in grime and grossness.

The furniture is covered in dog hair and child goop.

The kitchen is full of flies.

No one has any boundaries of any kind.

I’ve been told repeatedly that anyone who believes in global warming is delusional and Obama is a Muslim.

I NEED TO GO HOME.

There is one good thing about coming out here. My parenting skills suddenly seem in the realm of Mother of the Year. I always think I yell at Erik too much, but I don’t even know what yelling is until I get here. I always think I let Erik get away with too much crap, but the total “wtf?????” look on his face when his cousins throw their plates of food out into the field or punch their grandmother in the stomach makes me proud to be the mother of such a polite little boy. He’s not perfect, but he does say please and thank you. He listens most of the time. He puts away his toys when I remind him. He doesn’t hit or scream or whine.

It’s not that he’s especially wonderful. It’s that he has two parents who interact, guide, teach and set limits. I’m not trying to toot my own horn, because you all know I have serious doubts at times, but spending two weeks with children with no boundaries is very eye opening.

My cousin and his wife have six kids between them, ages 7, 4, 4, 3, 3, and 4 months. I was dreading visiting them because I just assumed it would be even more noisy and awful than here, but those kids were well behaved, polite and were able to have fun without melting down in screaming whines every 30 seconds. I think my new cousin-in-law needs to come and give my sister some parenting lessons. I’ve been trying, but guess how well that goes over? Do you think the Super Nanny would be willing to come take on this crew? I think she’d have a lot to say to my parents as well.

Here’s a final thought for your Friday morning:

Don’t marry an alcoholic. Forget about the amount of money they waste on their vice and legal fees. Forget about the abuse. Forget about the annoyance. Forget about the turmoil they create in your life.

THEY STINK.

My god.

I knew my dad was stinky, but I didn’t put two and two together.

My brother-in-law is drinking again and the stench coming off him is enough to knock down a horse. I walked past him this morning and thought some one put rotten meat in the recycle bin. I started digging around, complaining about the stench and my sister just started laughing and he ran for the bathroom to take a shower.

And that’s another thing! Argh! The city offers free curbside recycling. It’s a mixed bin, with no need to even sort your goods. My family is too freakin’ lazy to even do that much. I bought them a second garbage can to use as a recycling bin, but do you think that helped at all? No. Of course not. They throw whatever they want in there and the recyclable stuff still goes in the garbage. IT DRIVES ME OUT OF MY MIND.

Someone, get me out of here!

I’m sad that I feel this way in my mother’s home. I want Erik to know his family and his grandma and I know they love him, but I don’t think I can come here again if my sister and her family are still living here.

This entry was posted on Friday, July 25th, 2008 at 12:20 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.