Monday, December 12, 2011

Therapy Post



It is quite disconcerting to hear screams that continue from my children that are downstairs, when I am busy cleaning upstairs, and the father of the children is with them, downstairs.

It perplexes me that upon my return home after finishing working the hours at my job that is away from home, I am attacked by my children at the door with cries of, "Finally! We get to eat!" though the father has been home with them, in the house, while I have been gone, away from the house.

It is off putting that despite taping my husband snoring as evidence, he insists the footage I have is extraordinary and atypical, and that most nights he hardly emits anything above a nasally whistle.

It is disturbing that all four of the males that I share a home with have refrigerator blindness and I am the only one that is able to locate the orange juice and maple syrup in the mornings.

It is upsetting that though I ask the children to each take care of their own laundry folding and putting away on a weekly basis, that communal disturbances continue to break out between the age groups when it is time for the weekly laundry distribution.

It leaves me with head shaking bewilderment that though I am the smallest of three males in this house, I am the only one who is left unnerved enough by the howling coyotes in the field behind our home, to still be able to take out the garbage in the evening.

It baffles me to the point of cross eyedness that our children complain about "creepy, fiendish fields" around our home and ask why we're not able to live in a place where neighbors are five feet away as their friends do.

It frosts me to no end that though I have preached on the expense of the snakpak individual pouch cranberries that are reserved solely for lunches, and therefore have kept the snack cabinet filled with the large Family Sized Pouch of cranberries for home snacking, that the members of this household continue to snack at home from the expensive lunch snakpak cranberries pouch.

I find it quite annoying that I am asked "What's for dinner" as a disguised form of the question "Will I like it?" and then told I am overreacting when I answer with "You'll eat what you're served" when they say they are only asking a simple question.

I have a feeling of great annoyance as a result of the children's inability to properly secure the orange juice jug so that when I reach for the jug in the refrigerator it never fails to spill as a result of an insecure cap closure.

I feel my temples severely constrict when I see healthy children idly spending time on the family sofa, expending their energy on quick witted name calling and tossing balled up sweaty socks at each other, while the father of the children rests his eyes for "just a few minutes" watching a football game on the sole television in the house, while guarding the remote like an aging napping dog in front of his food dish.

I have feelings of mounting anger when I ask my children if they have put away their laundered clothing and they have answered me with a yes, only to find columns of T-shirts hidden behind the toy box in their bedroom three days later. 

I find it irritating and baffling when I am behind the steering wheel of the car and asked if I know where I am going by my husband. I temper this feeling with sarcastic thoughts of Poor Man, He must truly worry when I chauffeur his children around without the astounding availability of having him only inches away.

It is exasperating when I am asked for photo identification along with my credit card when making a purchase at a store, while the woman in line in front of me has only to provide the credit card. When questioning the clerk, I am told my handwriting is difficult to read. I tell her description is subjective and she exasperates me further with her response of a double eye blink.

I have a strong feeling of displeasure and find it extremely offensive that humans standing next to me in the cereal aisle feel it permissible to pass strong gas, as though the silence of it makes it a non occurrence. It demands tremendous self control on my part, as well as biting my lower lip to not turn and say, "that which cannot be heard will sure as hell still be smelt."

It vexes me that despite telling the youngest child that we are only purchasing things from our list while at the store, that I am asked twenty or thirty times to purchase things that are off the list. I find this feeling akin to drinking two pots of double measured coffee.


*Thank you, dear reader, for a much needed therapy session.  Payment in chocolate truffles is on its way. 
_______________________________________________________

54 comments:

  1. Oh, my! You needed to get that off your chest! One thing that I do not have to go to therapy over is - and it's a good one - I AM the UNDISPUTED QUEEN OF THE REMOTE CONTROL!

    The only time Honey Bunny gets to control it is when I'm blogging! I walk in the room and he hands it to me....

    ....the man lives by the motto "Pick your battles" (smart guy!)

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  2. I read every word and understand the need to vent, however, ONE TV??? That amazes me. My kids are grown, so we no longer have one in each room, but hubby and I each have our own. We rarely agree to watch the same shows. He has his remote and I have mine. It's much safer that way! We don't share computers either.

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  3. Happy to listen as always. As long as you promise to listen to me vent.

    Oh wait, you do that already.

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  4. Ditto ditto ditto ditto ditto ditto ditto.

    Really, why can men not feed their own children?

    "They didn't say they were hungry."

    "No, they just became cranky and whiny and impossible for no reason and it didn't cross your mind that they might need to eat some time in 6 hours?"

    "Well, they didn't SAY they were hungry..."

    And then, of course, he hands them back to me in that state.

    (Thanks for letting me borrow your couch.)

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  5. Brilliant!

    Hubbys and kidlets will NEVER be different. I guess that's okay.

    Doesn't stop it from making us crazy though. heh.

    Love this.

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  6. You're welcome, and also, THANK you. I thought I was the only one that burst into flame at the question 'what's for dinner?'

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  7. deep breathes....deep breathes...

    i will write you a prescription, just hand it to your husband and slip off to go get a coffee or libation of choice....

    smiles.

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  8. I dunno....I think the impact would have been so much stronger had you left off that little morsel of information in the first paragraph, ie: the father was with them. Screams emanating from the lower echelons is so....mmmm.....deliciously intriguing, no?

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  9. And with this... I suddenly become thankful that I control the televisions in my house and do not have anyone but myself to interrupt my sleep.

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  10. You know, if you were rich, you could hire people to do most of those jobs for you. You really should consider having more money. Just a suggestion. ha!
    m.

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  11. Brilliant. And leaves me wondering if you've been hanging around my house OR if perhaps my children and yours are one and the same. They've never been spotted together, right?

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  12. Good Lord. You wrote what I've been feeling all morning. It's making me feel like the invisible woman - ever watched that YouTube clip?

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  13. Oh, the snackpak cranberries. It burns. I am frowning now just thinking about it and I am neither at home nor near one of the offending children. The clothing being folded and "put away" on the closet floor is maddening. It boggles the mind when a clerk asks for photo i.d. AFTER having swiped the credit card. Um, is this not moot, dummy? The receipt is already printing. What're you gonna do should I refuse? Retain my merchandise? I think not. And the TV. Oh, the TV. We have two -- one in the basement and one in our bedroom (which is used on Sun. mornings for Meet the Press and random weekend nights for a movie if the kids are in the basement). It drives me crazy that we bought the house b/c of the backyard and all that it holds fun-wise for "normal" children. And yet they choose the TV.

    And sorry; I'm in a "me too" phase today.

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  14. I don't know what drives me more batty: the kids never listening, no matter how i say it or how many times i say it. or craig always pulling crap like leaving just 1 paper towel on the roll so i have to change it.

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  15. Poor Empress. Though I'm convinced that this goes on in households across the country. I just know it: "It is disturbing that all four of the males that I share a home with are each refrigerator blind and I am the only one that is able to locate the orange juice and maple syrup in the mornings."

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  16. I think my own mom would agree with all of this, although we were so scared of our Dad that we rarely did anything to upset her, since she would tell him and then all hell would break loose.

    Moms have such a rough job.

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  17. Bless your lil lady heart in that den of boys. I don't know how you do it.

    Well, my bff said it best, when speaking of her son as I was admiring how much of his own handlings she required of him:

    He may be my kid, but (one day) he's somebody's husband and I will be damned if he is as unhelpful as mine.

    Also, you must be doing an amzing job if your therapy posts are this few and far between. My blog is my therapy - welcome to my couch y'all.

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  18. The only diffrence between us is, I have girls and you have boys. No difference! How bout, when the hubs is in the kitchen and you're downstairs. The kids come downstairs to ask for a drink of something? I say, " you know ghat man upstairs in the kitchen, well, that's your dad, ask him for something to drink!!" ;)

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  19. Come over and I'll give you a nice cool cloth for your head and a quiet place to lay down and then we'll sit and gab about any and everything.

    I miss you. Your family does not know how good they have it.

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  20. I usually answer the "What's for dinner?" question with, "Elephant eyeballs on toast". This usually gets them to stop asking me the question, but isn't ideal when the 6 y.o. was simply asking so that he could know what cutlery we'd need on the table. :-S

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  21. Love the mental picture of guarding the remote. It feels very familiar. I haven't had power of remote in 30 years.

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  22. Love a good therapy post.

    Just breathe.

    xo

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  23. --love your writing & sass...

    I live w/ 5 male--s including my idiotic cats.

    I don't know what the hell they'd do if I didn't cook for them.

    I guess the little asses would starve.

    Xx

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  24. Hope it felt as good for you to write this as it did for me to read it. How I love you, friend.

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  25. I'm just gonna cut and paste this post and tape it to my fridge, k?

    p.s. In my house, we call ourselves Fun Daddy and Get Shit Done Mommy. Ok...maybe that's just me...

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  26. Ah yes, these irk me, too.

    Lovely therapy post.

    I'll send hugs and snack packs in exchange for those truffles, mmkay?

    xo

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  27. Oh Sweet Baby James... That laundry one is about to cause total annihilation at our house. Especially with the dryer not working and Mom is having to take 7 loads of wet clothes 20 miles to the laundromat on her one day off.... O.M.G. when I find clothes not put away after I've busted my hump over it... Woooo buddy. Mommy ain't so nice.

    And in the case of gas... Just fart back. If they have a problem, tell them they started it.

    I totally feel your pain. I'm so glad you have peeves, too, Empress :) Makes you more relatable.

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  28. I do believe...yes, I am quite certain, I have said every one of these things myself this week. It perplexes me that my 7 year old son is already showing signs of male object blindness, perfecting his driving instructions from the back of the minivan while facedown into his DS, and sticking his stinking feet in his little sisters' face. I worry...I'm outnumbered and they get ugly when they are hungry.

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  29. Chocolate truffles are always accepted.

    The great Tic Tac meltdown of 2012 was had at the grocery store earlier today. I feel your "only buying things on the list" pain.

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  30. Huh love the idea of a therapy post, it may help me from becoming stark raving mad at the ineptitude of my fellow housemates ie.family.

    Why is it that everyone else in the house cannot see the toilet paper has run out...and if it is indeed noticed by the 2 little girls or male "head" of the home why is it that they open their lips and yell MOM???

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  31. I hear my good friend talk about exactly the same things regarding the kids and husband. I complain about my dogs but since I can't seem to teach them to clean the house and have dinner made while I'm out, there's not much I can do.

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  32. Feels so good to just get it alllllll out.

    Thanks for listening..xo

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  33. I, too, have filmed my husband snoring to show him how LOUD he is. He still remains unfazed, but my niece and nephews thought it was the funniest thing they'd ever heard.

    The lack of cooking, the driving tutorial - all of it rings true. I'm beginning to think we might be married to the same man...

    Love this. :)

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  34. sometimes we just need someone to listen...or read. unloading makes things so much better sometimes; just asked the guy who farted next to you at the store.

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  35. Most people agree that I am a very good cook, but my children tend not to like anything I cook that isn't barbecued.

    So in the interest of not wasting food we sometimes wait for mom. And sometimes while we are waiting I meditate and meditation as we all know helps people stay calm.

    It is not my fault that the chanting I do while meditating sounds like snoring.

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  36. Let's all run away and leave the helpless fathers to sink or swim. I call an Emergency Spa Week for Stressed-Out Moms, totally off-grid (no cell phones or email, and don't let them track us down by our credit card charges). It should be someplace tropical, where we drink fruity drinks with umbrellas on a beach and silent attendants mist us with water. Who's in?

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  37. I love this, especially the point about hungry kids when you arrive home, despite the fact Dad has been there all day with them. Mine do the exact same thing.

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  38. I will be laughing about this all day!!!
    This is my life!!!
    I feel rage beyond description when my dear husband puts loose eggs in the butter compartment of the fridge. You know, the one compartment that is used the most and while I'm making toast all these eggs come flying out at me like some tardy Halloween gag.

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  39. Ahh...the infamous grocery farter. Once Chunky called out a man who did it in line. "Ewww. You're nasty!"...it was pretty awesome.
    While I only have 2 men to contend with, it is maddening at times. It's like my son learns from my husband.
    The other day, him and my husband played in the living room and I asked if i could play with his toys too. He said "No Momma. Your toys are in the KITCHEN"...yea, he totally said that.
    Sigh.
    Send me the truffles.

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  40. HILARIOUS.

    And I don't want to get started on my list.

    Candace

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  41. Ha! I love this. Much cheaper than therapy :)

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  42. Love all of this! The term "refrigerator blindness" is brilliant! My husband suffers from it, too. And I'll never understand why people prefer suburbia/city life to country living.

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  43. Those were all completely legitimate grievances. I hope it helped to get them off your chest. Perhaps I should air my grievances too, after all it is the season of festivus.=)

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  44. Oh my, 5 boys (throw in the dad in the mix) and a job and also your blog? You are one terrific mother who juggles so much and I totally admire you for this. And you can vent all you want :) Sending you big hugs from across the pond!

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  45. How do mothers survive? I wonder that often. You do, clearly, because you are patient and wise. xo

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  46. Totally with you on the snack-sized cranberry consumption. Does it taste different when it's from the LARGE, INEXPENSIVE BAG?

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  47. THANK YOU For this. I don't want to sound like a Schadenfreude that is only happy when others are miserable. I have said it before: I cringe reading posts about adoring perfect spouses because it does make me wonder 1) why am I staying 2) what's wrong with us. It's good to find out OMG It is NOT just me!

    The 3 guys in my house all have CFS. Can't Find Shit.

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  48. I think they are all good enough reasons to go into therapy :)) I had to deal with only ONE male in the house, and we all knew what happened. LOL.

    I can't stop laughing at this though -> "that which cannot be heard will sure as hell still be smelt." Oh gosh, I've had too many of those experiences myself. TOO MANY.

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  49. Wow. Were you at my house the other day, the other month, FOREVER? It's the dirty socks that get me: under the table, ON the table, on the couch. WTF people? Thank you for sharing your therapy moments with me...I think a therapy meme: Therapy Thursday? Moaning Monday? Whining Wednesday? Frazzled Friday? hmmm...any day, really.

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  50. I'm sorry, but I only accept payment in hugs.

    This sounds a whole lot like what I was telling my therapist on Monday. I'm in absolute tears -- know that you're loved - by those in your house & many that you'll likely never meet.

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  51. Oh i am so glad this stuff doesn't just happen at my house.
    EVEN the coyotes

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  52. Just get it off your chest. Get it off your chest friend! :-)

    The blindness is mystifying. It has become a joke in our house. "I can't fiiiiiiiiind it."

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  53. Phew I feel better. I hope you do too!

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  54. Just lost my whole "tell it, sister" agreement rant. But in short: your priceless snack pack cranberries are my juice boxes. When at home, eat from the giant tub o'berries and drink from the giant plastic container. And husbandy type person? I also videotaped you snoring while purporting to watch dvr'd Sports highlights of games you saw in their entirety hours earlier. I woke you 3x to try to get remote, but you deny you were sleeping. You were SNORING! I have proof!

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