My Fresh Hell
Life in Scribbletown.

Who Put the "Id" in Stupid?

2006-04-28

Apparently, I am the worst possible thing in my children's lives. My mere presence turns formerly happy children into wailing balls of bad attitude and sullenness. I read once – back in the days when I actually read books about what's "normal" in a child at a certain age, which I interpret to mean, "Whatever the fuck is their deal right now, it's okay" – that children will act out when they are in the presence of a trusted adult, usually the parent. That, their days apart from their families can be stressful. Just acting "good" all day can be stressful (don't I know it) so they let out all their frustrations on the people they love and trust the most, because it won't be held against them. Wonderful. How delightful. This is supposed to make me feel better, I suppose?

Two days in a row, I have picked up a happy Dusty (I am able to spy at her playing on the preschool playground through the narrow window of the school room door). I witness with my own eyes, moments before my presence is heralded by the Gang: "Duuuussstyyyy! Yer mom's here!!", a frolicking Dusty. There she goes, running around with friends, climbing on the playground equipment, rolling on the grass, ducking into the play castle. Just generally having a terrific time.

Then I show up. "Didja bring me anything?" she asks, momentarily happy to see me. "No, sorry. Just myself." She falls into a sulk and hides her face in her seriously-in-need-of-a-haircut hair (add "negligent of proper offspring grooming" to my list of faults) and whines, "But I WANT something." Me, all chipper and ignoring this obnoxious behavior, sez, "Sorry! You don't need something every single day. Go to the potty and let's get home."

"I DO need something!" A sock on the jaw, perhaps?

"Potty. Now." Are you thinking my patience has run a bit thin? Like the generic brand of maple syrup, yes.

"But. I'm. Hungry!" replies the Little Ingrate. In the past, I have usually procured a snack for the ride home but it has meant she isn't hungry for dinner so I've put the kibosh on these treats. For her own good - why can't she see that?

"Well, good. I'm sure daddy will have dinner ready for us when we get home."

"Buti'mhungryNOW!" mutters the demon troll that, due to certain legal reasons, I must now claim as my child and actually drive her back to my place of residence rather than just leave her sorry ass here at preschool to stew in her own juices.

"Too bad. Potty."

So, I have managed to turn Happy Girl into Sullen Annoying Girl in about, oh, three seconds.

Go me!

Then, after a perfectly delightful ride home in which she complains that the music is not loud enough to hear, that the music is telling her to be quiet (if only; it's actually whispering "Big Boys Don't Cry"), that she's on the brink of starvation, that I'm Bad Mommy for not buying her something or bringing her a treat (wtf? Where did I go wrong?), we arrive at Chez Bliss Fairyland. Or something.

Red runs up to the door thrilled to see both Sister and Mother come home. She bangs on the storm door in anticipation of being held and loved by those she has missed all the live long day.

This mood of joy lasts about fifteen seconds before something sets her off (her sippy cup looked at her funny, I guess) and she's writhing on the floor screaming because....well, I don't know why. Mommy's home! And how happy she is to see her lovely family. And, my husband caps it off by saying, in reference to Red's tantrum,

"She was a model citizen all day until just now." Rare is the day now when a Good Baby/Bad Baby list is written because it's all good until a Certain Someone comes home.

"Must be my winning personality that set her off."

"Snort!"

So a very happy, happy meal (not brought to you by an evil multi-national corporation) is had by all! What a fucking charmed life I lead! Don't you wish you could be the owner of such wonderful children? Aren't you jealous?

**********************************************************************

BUT! I have finally, FINALLY, ordered myself a laptop. With a printer. Many thanks to Lauren and my brother-in-law who, with much patience, answered all my incredibly stupid questions which revealed how ignorant I truly am of all things computer-related. And, they didn't once laugh at me. At least, not to my face.

Of course, this whole "buying a laptop" ordeal did not occur without a few minor glitches. Like the fact that….oh…I don't know if I have it in me to even bore you with the long story. So, I'll try to keep it short.

1. I mailed my credit card company a check to seriously pay down my balance so that I could buy the laptop.
2. The check never reached them. Who knew?
3. Meanwhile, I attempt to order the laptop. Nothing doing. I have to cancel the order after receiving 5,000 emails and 2 phone calls from Dell to explain what I'm planning to do about this order.
4. The credit card company called me to inform me that I hadn't paid them.
5. In the meantime, I get a credit card in the mail that says, "This card replaces your old VISA card. Please cut up the old card and begin using this one."
6. Problem is, I have TWO VISA cards – and there was no indication which account this was referring to.
7. So, rather than call the company (remember all the stuff about me procrastinating and not making phone calls? Yeah, keep that in mind.), I cut up the card. I am suspicious.
8. Credit card company (the first) sez I can avoid a hike in the interest rate by going post-haste to their website and making the minimum payment.
9. I do so.
10. I call the nice man back and ask, by the way I got this credit card in the mail. Would this be...oh? Your company was bought by their company? I see. No, I didn't get the letter explaining this. You wish I hadn't cut up the card? Yes, I imagine I can call them up and request a new one.
11. In the meantime, I can't use the old card.
12. And, my big check is still missing. So, still the balance is too high. Because my credit limit is low.
13. I request a new card and a higher limit.
14. I put a stop-payment on the missing check.
15. I send a new check.
16. I receive both the new card and the higher limit.
17. I re-order the laptop.
18. So far so good.
19. FUCK!

Was that short? If not, I apologize. It's been one of those months.

And, I'd tell you all the ways I was screwed over with my state taxes – how the nice county man redid my taxes for me (without my permission) so that I'd get a bigger refund, which I did, and then promptly got a BILL from the f*%&ing state saying Oops! I owe them $300 which happened to be the exact difference between how *I* filled out my tax form and how the really helpful county employee as the department of revenue recalculated them. So, I could have made some annoying phone calls last month to try to figure all this out. But, no. I didn't. Because that's me and I suck and really since nobody's life was on the line and we're only talking about two weeks (or more) worth of grocery money here and I suck and have a phone phobia, I paid them and enclosed a strongly-worded statement and a copy of what the county man sent me – but I know you don't want to hear it. Boy, could I be more passive-aggressive? Probably.

So - I. Am. Done. Have a nice weekend, if you dare. And don't call me. I won't pick up the phone.

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12:23 p.m. ::
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