Personal

Second, and equally important, is I recieved an e-mail from Rachel http://www.bitchalicious.com/blog/ at Bitchalicious, tht she is ready to put the finishing touches on my weblog. (ie; my photo album) The problem, I still haven’t finished, and sent to her what I need to for her to finish. Sorry Rachel. I’m doin’ it today!

So my procrastination has to come to an end for the day, and I have to get some shit done.
I would much rather sit here and read blogs, but duty is screaming my name, at a hysterical pitch.

Week-end was wonderful. Full of lots of playtime with both the hubby and the kids centered around swimming, barbecue, and cards. And Yahtzee. I managed to get three Yahtzees in one game. And then nobody wanted to play me anymore! Not really, I think the sun was saying it was time to go back into the pool anyway.

Of course all this play time means the house is completely torched.  So Jade, when you see this relatively neat, no it won’t be neat...when you see this relatively functional house realize I suffered greatly to make it so. (hehehe) Probably not greatly, but I can’t sit as long blogging life away. And find the effort well worth it, for some good company, and new swim friends for my rug rats!

Hope everyone’s week got off to a decent start! It’s a short work week, a fact that did not go unnoticed by myself or the hubby. (We’re already looking forward to the week-end and more playtime)

I won’t be able to read my favorites until Thursday morning. But I’ll be thinkin’ of all of you, while Jade and I are sipping Cosmos by the pool. 

Another issue on Tuesday night. Riley was whining and frustrated, as he has been several times this past year. Why? Because little girls at school, have figured out, that they can sucker punch Riley, and he won’t hit back. I have given him advice several times, about taking it to the playground aid, and then to his teacher. To no avail. His teacher, with whom I have worked very closely with this past year, told him to “not be a tattle tale!”

So by Wednesday morning all these issues as well as the X not raising the kids along the lines that I think are healthy, were weighing on my mind. Tayler comes home from school, Riley goes to the end of the school year 3rd grade swim party, and she lets me know that Riley went to the principals office today. The last day of school. Swell. It seems the new girl went after Riley today. Literally. Riley is a very good-looking little boy. The girls like him, a lot. Unfortunately little 3rd grade girls don’t know how to go about getting little boys’ attention, so they hit him, or kick and run.

He was already frustrated by this problem when the new girl came up to him and said, “Riley, you ever met Mr. Pain?! And then sucker punches him in the ribs. It hurt, he did tear up. He never laid a hand on her though. He just said Knock it off you “B”. No, he didn’t finish the word, but had he? I would have never punished him for it!!! Long story short, they both ended up in the principals office, where Riley got yelled at and berated for calling the little angel a bad name. The little girl skated Scot free outta the office!

My little Satans Spawn is no angel. I know this. I have never been a parent who has not backed up the school. I know his shortcomings, I’m his mother. But as his mother, I have worked extremely hard to drive home the fact, that men, or boys should NEVER hit a girl.Ever. There is no good reason for it. Ever. To do this I have also shared with him some painful memories from my own past. And answered any questions he has regarding them. It worked. Perfectly.

But now, I have a school, who is looking the other way, why he gets pummeled on the playground. BET ME! I left my scathing voice mail at the school. And then went one better. As unfair as it may be, my husband always seems to get responses before me. So I unloaded on him. And had HIM call the principal from work. He received a call in less then 10 minutes. (machismo asshole!) The principal then did call me, and of course now they want all the names of the offending little girls. And they will get them. I also made it clear that if my son is not safe on THEIR playground, that the physical violence, the assaults will be reported to the proper authorities.

In the middle of all this, my husbands car decides that the key to it will no longer work. OK, and many other little irritations to boot. None of which are worth wearing out my keyboard going over.

What I have to say is this: If you’re the mother of a darling little angel girl who sucker punches little boys at school, it’s time to start training them to be ladies. If YOU don’t, you might as well label her tavern trash in training. Because that’s exactly where she is headed. Teach your brats to communicate like civilized human beings! I’m doing my part damn it!  I’m training my boys to treat young ladies with respect, and to know there is never an excuse for physical violence! And I fucking resent!!! you parents who completely let the schools raise your kids!!! They can’t! You must!

Overemotional on the issue? You damn well better believe it! And if Karma plays a role in anything, there are little boys out there, that their parents AREN’T training to be gentleman. And I wish one specifically for your little princess! And my Riley was mistaken. This little tavern tramp to be, is far from a bitch! A bitch, knows her shit! A bitch, raises her little girls to not take shit, and to not take advantage of gentlemen who treat her well. I’m going to go one further, Malicious bitches are made by the assholes, but some assholes are made by the likes of trashy tavern tramps. I am doing my best to make sure my son becomes a gentleman, but if left to the schools, he would be an asshole in no time.

Not a very happy post, I know. But I’m going to let it go now. The principal will be meeting with us next Friday, where he will personally apologize to Riley. And Riley is to bring any further problem directly to his attention. Find out what your kids are up to. Talk to them. Teach them. Be a parent to them. It is up to us to raise up children in the way that they should go. And if your child doesn’t end up there, there is noone to blame but YOU.

Add a PF Changs Chinese Feast to go, and 4 DVD’s. All of the “Artsy” films, we have been meaning or wanted to see over the last year or so. The Kinsey Report, The Unites States of Leland, I’ll Sleep when I’m Dead and Enduring Love. None of which I recommend for late at night. The word “artsy” for us, means lots of character development, very wordy inneractions and very little action.

We just were. All weekend.  Sloth and spontaneity were the menu items! I’ll think of this weekend often over the next few months. School will be out in a couple of days. The weeks will be filled with “have to do, must do, need to do, and should do.” But I’ll relish the moment I can spend another week-end of nothingness with my lover and best friend.

And I know there will be one. He will want a rematch of the pinochle championship. Of which, I of course smoked the hell outta him in! And didn’t finish the last game, left half done, waiting on the notepad to finish on our next “nothing weekend that mean’t everything.”

Hmmm. Fear of being hurt? He would never hurt me intentionally. Or for just this reason. This sense of being lost without him here. I have been on one “Girls Only” nites out, without him. Yes, my girlfriends have all accepted, and embraced, that if 3T is joining us somewhere in the evening, Kevin will be joining us as well. They have come to almost see him, as “one of us.”

He is at a business dinner tonight, that he couldn’t possibly slink out of. I understand, and support it. But still the quiet panic. I remember the one other time he had a business interview for a possible promotion. He got it. But I would have to say that was one of the scariest fights we had had to that point. He came in drunk. Now I don’t know about corporate executives, (having never been one) but never had/have I been on an interview I came out of, intoxicated.

I was nasty to him. He was, well...he was drunk. I remember telling him after more then a few ugly exchanges, in which he got out of bed and was leaving, that if he walked out the door, then don’t ever bother coming back. I wasn’t bluffing. I didn’t “need” him, I still had control of my heart. (Or is that my sanity?)

Things have changed since then. I’m invested. In every possible way I can be. We had promised each other soon after we were married, that we would never spend a night, without each other in bed. And that hasn’t changed. We met later in life, and we are not going to get the standard 40 or 50 years together that couples like my parents, and his
were blessed with.

He’ll be home soon now. So why the quiet panic?

I want to tell you, that in some ways you have been closer to me, then ANY human being in my life. I played with you at first. Flirted some, and then just as quickly dropped you. Off and on for a couple of years I kept coming back for more.

You were there when I started dating my first husband. You were there after each torturous beating. Always faithful to me, always comforting. You never left my side, when I went thru that first painful divorce. When I felt my most alone, you cigs. were always there.

I sent you away, whenever I was expecting a new addition to the family. But I always let you come back. And I clung to you after divorce number two. But didn’t really, or couldn’t let you go when I married hubby 3. He was fun! You were part of the fun! There after every delicous meal. Calling my name after lusty bed aerobics. The perfect accompaniment with wine, champagne or a Cosmopolitan.

When I was hungry, angry, lonely or tired. There you were. You never abandoned me. As long as I had the money, you have always been there. No questions asked. Didn’t matter who was my husband, what child I was diapering, what job I was laboring at.  You were the one I never forgot, no matter where I went. I have for some years now, in many ways, put you above absolutely EVERYONE in my life! And now, I have to tell you good-bye.

For all outward appearances, you were everything I listed to this point. But beneath the surface, were your sinister motives. And they list as plentiful as your attributes.

For starters, just beneath the surface, I have allowed you to rob me blind! Your price, for my addiction to you, kept rising higher and higher, with each passing decade, you blatantly robbed me, while I willingly handed all that money over to you! The dollar amount, I couldn’t even begin to calculate. Suffice it to say, that had I not given it willingly, it would have rated a felony.

Next, my energy. The more I used you, thru each and every task, the more of my energy you’ve stolen! You have zapped my strength! And more preciously, my time! Time that could be spent playing with my children, was spent on the patio, puffing away on you! I put you before the children I gave life to!

The bronchitus, that would inevitably set in after any virus, I attribute to your doing. The adult onset asthma that I now battle, and need an inhaler for, can also be attributed in part to you. The stink that permeates my hair, fingers, clothing and breath, all find their roots in you.

Cigs. you must go now, and never return! I cannot allow you in my life, and my lungs any longer. I know it’s going to be hard and painful ridding myself of you! So ingrained in every little area of my life! I can’t have you anymore! 

In order to succeed in turning my back on you, I have to brainwash my mind, into hating you! Into seeing what you truly are beneath the surface!! I can have no tolerance for you what so ever. I have to become, who in the past I have rolled my eyes at! The reformed smoker! The dreaded enemy of smokers everywhere! That will be me, for some time to come. I don’t have a choice. To continue my dalliance with you, will literally steal my oxygen away. I WILL HATE YOU CIGS!

And to do this Cigs. I will have to literally take it one activity at a time! Consciously fighting the urge to turn to you, thru the simplest of tasks. And always, ALWAYS keeping in mind, Hungry Angry Lonely and Tired. The four basic STRONG needs that would always have me lighting up. I will now take the H from Hungry. The A from Angry. The L from Lonely and the T from Tired, and keep it close to my heart and mind.

When the urge from you hits, I will think of HALT, and realize which one of these is pushing me towards you. Am I hungry? EAT 3T Am I angry? Rant and rage in my blog! Am I lonely? CALL JADE, from Jaded Sunburns, who is also kicking your sorry ass to the curb now!! Am I tired? Take a nap 3T! Go to bed at a decent hour.

I realize I will still be obsessed with you for a little while longer. In order to do away with you, I have to be on my guard. And replace you, with healthy activity, and human contact. And remember all the many benefits, that ridding you from my life will reap.

More money! = More vacations!  More energy=playing with my kids=better health
No more going outside of the resturaunt, to stand with the other smokers, while non smokers saunter by, glaring at us as if we had just taken a shit on the curb! I will regain my oxygen, allowing me the ability to take up jogging again. My clothes, hair, fingers and breath will no longer smell of stale smoke. My lungs will start their regeneration. (There is no emphysema yet! I checked) So many, many benefits to giving you up Cigs.

So now I begin my growing hatred of you. (To all my smoker friends, I still love you!)
Cigs. you suck ass! You’re a dirty, smelly SOB! And I want you outta my life for good!!!!

Sincerely,
3T