ibeachalot's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kids For Sale Because I'm so old, I forgot to mention some of the other reasons why I feel like I'm getting old before my time. Like the fact that I can never remember a damn thing. I swear, I've forgotten where the microwave is. I wash loads of soapy water, because I forget to put the laundry in. I brew pots of hot water, because I forget to put coffee in. Several times, I've almost popped Evan's meds into Jameson's mouth. (Although, I'm sure Jameson will on them soon enough.) I call people and say, "Uhhh... I didn't mean to call you! I was actually calling _____! Sorry!" because between the time I think to call someone, dial their number and allow the phone to ring, I completely forget who I'm calling. I'm sure there are other things I forget, but obviously I don't remember now what they were. Alot of this is a result of my children. If you're tired of hearing me bitch about my kids, this isn't the diary for you... ..... ..... ..... ..... Still with me? Okay. Everyday at 4:05pm, my day is turned on its ear. That's when Evan gets home from school. I need to talk to his doctor to see about him getting meds at school again. Now, he's only getting them before and after school. I think he needs some right around 1:00 - 2:00pm to break up the day. As it is now, he bounds through the door, high as a kite, and it takes a good hour and a half for the meds to kick in and he starts to calm down. That's the time of the day the other kids are getting hungry, restless, tired and irritable. Add a psychotic bully to the mix and you have a house full of demons straight from the depths of hell. I'm at my wit's end with these kids. They are snotty, rude, disrespectful, disobedient and out of control. They hit me and call me names. They fight constantly. Most of their fights consist of Evan muttering things under his breath to irritate Jameson. Jameson falls to pieces at the smallest of things and Evan knows it. He takes Jameson's quirks and runs with them. I'm strongly considering enrolling the kids in an after~school program to keep them in school longer. Isn't that an awful thing to say? That I want my children away from me? I just can't stand any more fighting or disobedience. I ask (then tell, and eventually demand) the kids pick up their shit from around the house and they scream "NO!" and laugh at me. Jameson calls me a "bad muvver". No amount of threats encourage them. They don't care. The only thing left to do to them (beat them senseless) is something for which I could get hotlined. Although, I'm beginning to think prison might be a quieter place. On a brighter note... as I mentioned I was going to try the other day, I did away with the pull~ups on the older kids. I've eliminated drinks after dinner and I get them up to pee three times, once before I go to bed, once in the middle of the night and once when Griffin awakens me at the crack of fucking dawn. So far... THEY'VE BEEN DRY!! Two nights in a row, I haven't had to peel pissy clothes off of them or change smelly sheets in the morning. I hope this trend lasts. It'll be like a pay raise not having to buy two packs of pull~ups every other week. My hands are sore from dialing two phones for three solid hours last night in an attempt to move Clay into the role of the next American Idol. Even with two phones going, I only got through eight times! Stacey didn't get through at all. I take this as a good sign. There must have been alot of people voting, if we had that much trouble getting through. Usually, I can knock out 500 votes with no problem. I hope it helped. Good luck, sugar pie honey bunch! Gotta run. More later, including that picture of the Oklahoma tornado. 7:00 a.m. - 2003-05-21 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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