Happy home-haha

I just threw a spittle-flying-eye-bulging-finger-pointing hissy fit. It was immediately followed by a 24 minute lecture in the car. Now I am implementing the cold shoulder. Mothering at it’s finest right here.

It’s Tuesday. Tuesdays we eat $5 pizza IN THE CAR due to diving. Don’t get out that mother of the year nomination form just yet.

Last night I was only 30 minutes late getting the boy from swim practice. I raced home and assembled random dinner of the year. Tortelinni soup…well more like stew since the liquid had all been sopped up by the pasta. Nachos. I didn’t have meat so I microwaved some meatballs and chopped them up for protein. Wait. Not done. My dad had left me leftover green beans so those got warmed. Viola vegetable. I was out of my staple: mandarin oranges so we drank orange juice instead. Delightful, huh!!?!

It gets worse-daughter had been lounging in the chair like the Queen of Sheba watching a Dance Moms marathon. I’d had a sleepless few nights. I hadn’t seen the girl all weekend and I can’t do laundry so I caved and sat down with her. Holy mother of all that is sane. That show is like a crack or meth–horribly, horribly bad but intoxicatingly addictive. One episode turned into another because I just couldn’t quit until I knew who was on top is the pyramid, who got solos and if Christi was leaving the studio. Riveting drama I tell you.

Needless to say -nothing got done. I laid down the law about what had to be done today after school. I didn’t know I said it in Latin but evidentially I did.

I left work mid task to race home. I hurled myself in the door once home because I needed a quick restroom stop before dashing all over town. Not sure which hit me first-the smell or the sights. Racing to my destination, I trip over an armless doll lying On the floor. I dash around my daughter who is giving an academy award worthy performance of “oh my gosh this just happened” as she drags 20 feet of toilet paper behind her to clean up dog poop. “Did no one take her out?” I ask which immediately starts the finger pointing and bickering.

In the bathroom the donating roll of roller paper lay on the counter-the wrapper beside it. The toilet paper I need. That goodness for small bathrooms since the actual toilet paper holder only had cardboard. Really!!!

There is just enough time to change shirts so I head to my closet only to hear SQUISH. Oh goody-a urine soaked shoe.

“What exactly did you do all afternoon?” I bellow. Doe eyed and innocent my daughter proclaims she’s spent the afternoon slaving away in her room. “I told you No tv” I remind her. “I know. And I didn’t watch tv-I watched vine videos on my phone after I cleaned my room.” Ummhmmmm. I head up there. If it’s perfect I might have to back down in the irritation. Although the whole definition of screen time will be thorough discussed.

Turns out I am not going to need to back anything down. The room
Is fine. The closet however is the reason the room looks okay (I stress okay). The only thing she did was push everything in her room into the closet. I point. She says, I swear, “you said clean my room. You didn’t say anything about cleaning my closet.” I am getting pissed off just typing this because not only does she say it-she says it with an eye roll and a hair flip.

I came unglued. UN.Glued. Bezerck. Ape-shit. I was off the chain. This is a smart girl. Usually. Like Alec Tribeck I asked,”is that your final answer!” She answers “wha? Wha? Wha?” I toss am item of clothing at her (okay I throw it) and say,”all you did today was throw these clothes on that floor.” Wait for it. Wait for it. Slight eye roll and indifferent shoulder shrug,”I didn’t put that in the floor today,”

Oh no she didn’t!

I let it all sink it while I let the rath simmer. Her argument is that I didn’t specify the closet when instructing her to clean her room and that because she didn’t throw it on the floor today that it’s okay??!! And she’s proud that she adhered to the no tv rule but watched videos on her phone. IN THE SAME ROOM WHERE THE DOG MADE HER SISTERS DOLL AN AMPUTEE!

There aren’t words; although I did try a few out-at the top of my lungs. Chaos erupted. I erupted. Every time I thought I was done I got mad all over again and went in for more. At one point I seriously thought I might bust a ‘perfectly good gasket’ as my mama says.

The car ride from hell played like an oldies but goodies album. “Where did I go wrong? Followed by a rocking version of “you do your jobs and I’ll do mine” and let’s not forget the old standby “what do I have to do”. I slid a new one on too “I swear I’m gonna”. I rapped a quick tune to “all your gonna get” as I laid out the 5 shirts-5 pants plan. Then came to radio version of “and you can beat your sweet a$$;” as I took away her phone. I and ended with “d-o-n-e.”

Now I am administering the cold shoulder.

Disclaimer-the picture is of previous dog drama. Her room was worse.

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4 thoughts on “Happy home-haha

  1. I don’t think there’s a mother out there that hasn’t blown a gasket with their kid(s) at least once in a while. Mine was last week after DS had been beastly the night before when his dad was out and refused to do overdue homework, and I came home to find him parked in front of the computer, instead of doing homework. You could do what my mom used to do and close the door. Maybe she could learn to do her own laundry?

    • Oh we’ve been doing the own laundry thing for awhile now. That’s a disaster too. I had a friend who suggested that the punishment is she only gets to wear clothes I pick out for an entire week.

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