Mid-Week Sucks?

I went to bed before eleven, was wide awake at 3:30 a.m. Laid there for an hour, during which time my mind wandered far afield to places I didn't want to go but could not seem to avoid. It took concentration and intense manipulation for me to fall back to sleep. As a result the alarm was not welcome, and I smacked it to buy another nine minutes.

I don't know why I do that. It's stupid - NINE minutes? What the hell is THAT going to do? Nothing.

Bob and Tom failed to stir me beyond moving my ass through its standard paces. Scarlett's homework from yesterday was wrong, but fortunately we were ready early, and able to go over it quickly. Calculating time is tricky, and no one at her current day care offers assistance on homework. I was remiss in neglecting it last night, but sometimes that's just how it goes. We still made school on time.

There's a weight on my shoulders this morning that I haven't yet identified. I hope today isn't a BAD day, but it doesn't feel like a good one. I've got this chocolate - sweet, dark, with white nonpareils on top. I've been eating on it for two days now. It's not quite pulled me out of my funk, but perhaps it will help. I think I need a day off. Not a weekend, a regular week day. I'll check out Brian's calendar and see what day would work best. I've been warned by my horoscope to avoid argument today. So that means I'll leave the question that's currently burning a hole in my brain tucked away to burn just a little while longer.

Scarlett said something funny last night, and it took MUCH restraint not to laugh out loud at the table. If we hadn't BEEN at the table, I wouldn't have made such an attempt to refrain from laughing.

I work VERY hard with her on her table manners when we eat at home. It's just the two of us, and I use that time to come down on her a bit harder than I would in public. I try to refrain from upsetting her, some days are worse than others. Yesterday she had her shields up, and I could do no psychological harm. That's a good thing.

She had just finished eating, and belched. Long and loud, directly into her plate. I of course immediately objected, even though she said "excuse me". She hadn't covered her mouth, or turned away, or ANYTHING. It was NASTY - and I said as much. And she replied, "Well, at least it didn't stink."

As I write it now, I CAN laugh - and I have, almost to the point of needing to go to the rest room. That really made me feel better. Another Diet Coke, and I should be in business.....

I will survive

A bit early BUT way too cute not to pass along! Enjoy!
http://www.msn.americangreetings.com/view.pd?i=382219626&m=1652&rr=y&sou

(no subject)

Beautifully Stated

As we grow up, we learn that even the one person that
wasn't supposed to ever let you down probably will.
You will have your heart broken probably more than
once and it's harder every time. You'll break hearts
too, so remember how it felt when yours was broken.
You'll fight with your best friend. You'll blame a new
love for things an old one did. You'll cry because
time is passing too fast, and you'll eventually lose
someone you love. So take too many pictures, laugh too
much, and love like you've never been hurt because
every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of
happiness you'll never get back.

In which I rant and bitch and moan

I am so angry right now that I am physically ill. My stomach feels like I swallowed a patch of habaneros. And my neck is so stiff and sore that I can barely move my head.

Why? You ask?

I just got off the phone with my mother.

My mother is absolutely crucial to my survival. Financially, I cannot survive on my salary and Jeff's child support.  She pays for a lot of things that we both want Scarlett to have, or that she needs. Orthodontia is the big ticket item. She takes care of Scarlett most weekends, (which is often the ONLY thing that keeps me functioning and sane during the week) and has kept her most summers. She sends her to camp, she buys her clothing and shoes, she just does more than I could list or tell you here. In fact, if I TOLD you everything that my mother does for me, you would smack me for making a peep of complaint.

However, I'm peeping.

My mother and I have butted heads from the time I was a small child. Our natures are different, and our values are different. I've given her a SERIES of disappointments over the years, interspersed with a few shining moments. She has struggled to maintain control of me all my life, and has failed miserably at it from the time I could talk. When I became pregnant, I agreed to let my mother help me financially with a solitary stipulation - that my child would be raised as I SAW FIT. Period. End of Discussion. She agreed wholeheartedly. And upon Scarlett's birth, she proceeded to interfere in every way you could imagine, and a few she just dreamed up on her own.

Again, I don't have time or the space to detail the ways my mother and I disagree in the basics of raising my child. MY CHILD. Wanna stress this, because if you ask her, she'll tell you SHE had a baby on September 14, 1996. No, I am not kidding. She has said this out loud in a room full of church women. "I had a baby named Mary Scarlett." Ok. Where was I? Oh right. Bitching.

( cut for the bitching - in which I detail just a FEW of the reasons why I no longer live with my mother )