Currently: Needing to be asleep, but what else is new? 
Or, better yet, why am I surprised it’s come to this?
So, I have some amazing kids, if I do say so myself. At least, they are amazing MOST of the time. However, Danny and Joe both have really smartassed mouths on them. They rarely ever both get going at the same time, and to the same degree that they did today, though. They ran their smart mouths constantly throughout the day, and Danny even got sent to his room for being a smartass.
Then this afternoon, after the first bit of drama had blown over, they ran through the house, chasing one another, making it shake as if a herd of cattle was coming through. I told them that if they were that bored, and had that much energy, they could go out and mow the lawn. They ignored me and continued to try to run one another down. They both ran into Joe’s room and shut the door in my face. In. My. Face!!!!! At this point I was livid, but still calm. I told them that they were definitely mowing now, and Danny could go first, because I had to just about beg him to hang Joe’s clothes back up in the closet; clothes which he tore down when he ran in there to hide from me. So amidst much complaining and smarting off, he went outside to start mowing.
Then Joe ran outside to start mowing, after being told Danny would be mowing first, for an hour, because of his smart mouth. I had to go outside and make Joe come in, with the same complaining and smarting off that Danny gave me for having to go first.
I didn’t hear the mower, and I looked out and saw Danny just sitting there on the ground with the mower in front of him. I walked out to him and told him to get busy with it, and he actually told me he wasn’t going to be told to do it, that I could ask nicely. Rather than give in to my first instinct, which was to strangle him, I said he was right, that he won’t do it for me, but he will get it done. I then went inside and asked their (rarely mentioned on this blog) stepdad if he would tell Danny to mow the lawn when he goes out to smoke; that Danny will neither listen to nor mind me.
In the meantime, things with Joe got VERY ugly, very quickly. He was sent to his room so we could both cool off. By then, I decided I wanted to drink. I headed to the convenience store about a mile down the road and purchased some alcohol.
When I got back, Danny was mowing the lawn and Joe was out of his room watching tv. I told him to get back to his room, and he refused, saying that his stepdad said he could come watch tv. I said, “well, now that I am back home, you can go back to your room.” I was told that I am not the only adult here and that the stepdad basically trumps me. THIS is why I never, ever, EVER ask for help unless I am ready to kill someone! Yes, he walked out and asked Danny to mow the lawn, and Danny complied. I still don’t know why he let Joe out to come watch tv, though. I tried to punish the kids for doing something wrong, and it was overruled. I feel like I rarely ever have anyone actually willing to work WITH me in keeping discipline consistent.
At that point, I threw my hands up, grabbed my mp3 player and a cold one. I went out to the back porch, plugged my mp3 player in, tuned them out, and began chugging. Any time I would go back in the house to use the restroom, the boys were bickering and fighting. “Mom, he did this!”. “Mom, he said that!”. The stepdad? In our bedroom with the door shut, on the computer.
I ignored them, each and every time. What could I have said that would have made any difference anyhow? No one listens to me. Since no one is listening to me, they can fend for themselves. Fending for themselves is exactly what they had to do, too, because I eventually reached the point where I didn’t care if anyone got along or got a shower or even ate. If they spoke to me, I ignored them. After checking email, I went to my bedroom and lay down, fully clothed, and slept my alcohol-induced stupor off.
During my nap, the husband woke me up asking me if there was going to be anything for dinner tonight. I vaguely remember mumbling to him that there was leftover bbq from last night; that he could make a sandwich and we had some other various leftovers, too.
When I woke up at about 10 pm, the kids were already in bed. I saw the dishes where they had made themselves some cereal for supper, and *almost* felt bad about it. Almost. The husband was making himself some ramen, saying that he would have picked up a tv dinner had he known there was going to be no supper. Whatever. He got some of the leftovers, and to me, that qualifies as dinner.
I don’t like being run over, and I don’t like being ignored, and I damn sure don’t like being made to feel guilty because I made them take care of themselves. I rarely ever drink anymore. I hadn’t consumed any alcohol since about March. And thanks to (quite) a few cheap, but refreshing and delicious malt liquor beverages, my family lives to see another day.
I am not hung over, but I do need to try to get back to sleep ASAP. There is a tournament game tomorrow first thing in the morning. I do hope everyone wakes up with their heads pulled from their asses, because I certainly don’t want to go on another bender just to be able to deal with them.
