Out of practice, perhaps mildly defensive, but as me as I ever am.
So, four months, that’s not so bad, right? I’ve probably gone longer before, right? Maybe? Too lazy to check? Yes? Marching onward…
I’ve actually hesitated in my intentions of writing here again. And then thought “screw it, I’m writing anyway”. And then hesitated again. And then thought “screw it, again, these are my thoughts and my words and my life. Rawr.” Because you see, I’m a big pudgy people-pleaser at heart. And lately I have been continuing to absorb some shocking life lessons of which you might not be aware, because of their shockingnicity. Things such as one can’t make everyone happy. Or even, one can’t make everyone not detest one. And sometimes, some people, if they want to look for the sordid and negative, can wring it from anywhere. [Like, for example, (brace yourself), here.] SHOCKING, I KNOW. So let me save those select few of you the trouble: I am a bad mother, and a bad person, and Satan’s mistress, I am hooked on a tragic caffeine addiction, and behind on my laundry. Sometimes my kids irritate me. I don’t exercise as per the recommended guidelines. I’ve been known to use the socially unacceptable term ‘retard’. I occasionally feed my children nutritionally deficient happy meals, complete with toys that were made in China and therefore possibly laden with lead. I don’t compost our food scraps. There is even a rumor I barbeque helpless kittens as an enjoyable recreational activity. At least, there is now. There you have it, in black and white. Bad person, I am. Print it out and move along.
The twins were so excited the other day, they found a stash of loose change! [choking hazard, doesn’t matter that they’re 6]. After hunkering down and plotting feverishly about what they could do with this newfound fortune they came to an exciting agreement: they could now afford to SEND MICHAEL TO SUMMER SCHOOL. (hahahaha!) Now where they came up with the idea for that, I really couldn’t say, particularly seeing as he was on honor roll this year [no doubt because I pushed him too hard, crushing his tender DS- loving spirit in the process]. Considering how much I’ve been enjoying the newfound preteen eyerolling headwaggling backsassing I’ve been getting from him lately [also my fault, I only nursed him for ten months, instead of the suggested twelve] I was in full agreement with their plan [because only BAD MOTHERS don’t want to spend EVERY WAKING MOMENT with their PRESHUS ANGEL BAYBEES even when they act like SNOTTY LITTLE BASTARDS].
[Okay, some of us may be having trouble moving along.]
*In the Wawa parking lot, as I stopped to pump gas*
Matthew: “Ha ha ha! Look! That girl is wearing a bikini!” (top, with shorts)
Twin [don’t remember which, Bad Mother and all]: “Where?! Where is the girl in the zucchini?!”
Matthew Who Knows All There Is To Know, Plus Some Extra: “Bikini, not zucchini. You don’t even know what I’m talking about. A zucchini is a fruit. DUH.”
…duh indeed. [Says the person who has clearly underperformed in the area of teaching her children vegetable classifications.]
Brief as this is, it’s nice to type something longer than a facebook post. Once again, I am sorry for neglecting you blog [please add blog neglect to the above list]. We have a lot to catch up on, and I promise to do so soon, and without making passive aggressive references to attacks on my character. Anyone who knows me, knows who I am. Anyone who does not, is welcome to. And anyone who chooses not to, but would like to judge me regardless, that I can not help. Now if you will excuse me, I am going to swig some gin and pole dance for a room full of sweaty strangers whilst my children watch.
(Oh, I kid. They will be too busy playing unsupervised. With firearms. In the middle of a busy street.)
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