-Weird things make me happy. Like having exact change. Or waking up at exactly 6:30. Or when I fill up my tank and it's exactly $20.00. I think I should've included this in the Quirks blog for Jen.
-In a roaringly funny twist of karma...Joe hates cats. Joe moved into his Aunts house. Who just happens to have five cats. Karma's a bitch, aint it?
-I've found that my office scarily imitates The Office. Down to Dwight. (Shudder)
-If I'm paperclipping shtuff together, I have to have all the same color paper clips. I'll root around until I find what I need or choose a different color.
-Letting Pook sleep in our bed from 0600 hours until 0730 wasn't a great idea, because now we've created a monster. One that will sleep in her own bed tonight. If it kills me.
-When unpacking, unpack underwear first!! Cannot stress this one enough. There's nothing like rooting around in a box for 20 minutes trying to find panties when you're already late for work.
-Texting an April Fools message, "So I just tested and yeah...We're pregnant again" to the BF who doesn't want more kids isn't the smartest idea.
Seriously, moving sucks.
You never truly realize just how much crap you have until you move.
"OOOH! I've been looking for this!" (Dude, you haven't missed it in a year, chances are you're not going to miss it now.)
Bry had this week off, so he was going to move us. It's the end of the month, which around my office is nothing short of bedlam, so I couldn't take any time off.
I picked up Pooker and drove to the new house. There's crap everywhere. Not like, the kitchen stuff is in the kitchen, bedroom stuff in the bedrooms...Nope. It's all in one big pile in the living room. Which wasn't that big of a deal. I was told to keep Pook entertained while he made a final run to get some other stuff.
Problem number one: Pook only slept for an hour yesterday, so she lived up to the moniker Princess Pissy Pants. She didn't want to be in her bouncy, but I couldn't let her crawl around with all the crap on the floor. She wanted a bottle, for all of three seconds.
I tried just putting her in the bouncy while I tried to unpack at least the wall décor, because that's my forté. (I can decorate like nobodies business.) That went well until I realized I had no nails to hang aforementioned décor.
Out came the Crackberry, and hellooo mobile web! So, Pook and I nestled in on the couch while I got her to sleep.
Of course, Joe was helping Bry and he just had to make snide comments. Dude, get the hell over it. You're in your midthirties. God forbid you have your own place, and your own car. (For the record, he's moving into a family members basement. Still no car.)
The main reason I was sold on the house was the incredible master bathroom. A shower stall! Side by side sinks! Marble countertops! And, the coup de grace, a HUGE marble sunken tub with armrests!
I had planned on taking a nice, long, hot bath to relax before I went to bed. An initiation of the house, if you will. The tub, apparently, won't.
For one, the water pressure from the faucet is a joke. I for one, am not about to wait 30 minutes while this thing fills up. Turns out, I didn't have to worry. Because it won't fill up. The house has a 50 gallon tank. The tub fills up about 25%. Damn. There goes that idea.
It was then that I discovered problem numer two. Um, Bryan, did you grab the towels and the bath mats? Yeah, okay, can you grab me a mat and a towel? I know I should've grabbed them before, but I didn't so how about helping me out? Or I can just stand here dripping water onto the floor and I'll go to bed dripping wet and roll around so you have to sleep in the wetness, too. That's what I thought, thanks for the towel.
Getting dressed this morning was also fun! I got a hot shower, (for about five minutes). And then I remembered all my clothes, my socks, my underwear, everything was either in boxes or bags. So I spent about 30 minutes ripping into stuff, until I finally found Granny Panties, sweat socks, and something semi-decent to wear to work. Have no idea where my blow dryer ran off to, probably ran to Mexico with my slut of a curling iron.
But! I saw a spider! I didn't scream! (Much.) So, it's not all bad, right?
I cannot believe this little drama is still ongoing but alas it is...Good God, let it GO! Bryan wants me to have a little tete a tete with Leah. A mature, sit down, talk about our feelings and hash this thingout.
Thing is...I don't care enough to do this. I'll do it because Bryan wants me to. Bryan came home and vented and yelled for 20 minutes on how ridicilous this all is. He's not mad at me, he's mad that Leah is dragging this thing out as long as she has. He really thinks this whole thing has gotten blown wayyy out of proportion. I vented about it, and I'm done with it.
I think what Leah & Joe are looking for is a response and remorse from me. They want to get a rise out of me, they want me to get angry with them. I'm not, though. I was upset at the lack of maturity displayed all around but that is about it. And as I tried to explain to them before, I'm not remorsefull at all. Again, I expressed an opinion and it's up to that person what they do with it. I formed a first impression of her and her parenting skills, just like she did. Jessica has said she's not sorry for her opinion of me, which is what I want, actually. I don't want anybody to be sorry for expressing their opinion, even if it's duragatory. You as a human are entitled to it.
Let me say one thing and then I. Am. DONE.
If you don't like me, I truly don't care. I have a select few people that if they held a low opinion of me, I would be crushed. Other than that, I really don't care. I don't think I am all that immature. Am I completely done growing up? Not by a long shot! Do I think I've come a long way since Bryan and I met, and especially since I had my daughter? Absolutely, and Bryan agrees. I don't think that this little meeting will accomplish what Joe & Bryan hope. I personally don't think Leah posesses the level of maturity needed to sit down, not raise her voice, and look at the situation objectively. I don't think Joe does, either. He's too emotionally involved with the situation to do so. Look, when Bryan and I argue...We don't half ass it. At first, we yell to each other, just to get the feelings off our chests. Then once that's done, we typically break for thirty minutes. Then we revisit the situation and we discuss it calmly. Apologies are made, a resolution is arrived at. It's not the perfect way, but it has worked for us time and time again. While I would hope that Leah would vent and yell to Joe and then discuss the situation calmly later. But, alas, I don't think she ever has or ever will do that.
Again, I don't care about her or the situation enough to want to have this little chat. But, Bryan wants this to happen. And so, for him, I will. I just wish Jessica would stop and think to herself, "I don't like this girl. I don't like what she thinks about me. But, hey, whatever. I know differently, so whatever." And if she wants to change my opinion of her, (if she cares that much), she's going about it the wrong way.
Well, as I expected, Jess came over and went O-F-F on me. Whatever. She said I didn't have the right to post what I did (I do) and that I should apologize (not anymore) and that she's more mature than me (rrriiiggghhttt. The yelling and screaming at me really showcases that, too.) how I clearly think the world revolves around me (Really? I'm that special? When did that happen?) And as for her little tantrum she said that she was waiting and giving Joe a chance to calm her down. (Okay...But isn't she your child? Shouldn't you be the one to handle that? Just curious.) And she predicted that LMA will do the same. Funny, that. Bryans kids didn't, H1 and I didn't, Bryan didn't...Because we all knew better. So, I guess thanks for the heads up? I somehow think things will turn out a bit differently.
They said I should make my blog private. Y'know, I thought about it. And I'm not going to. After that little episode? No way.
She asked if I was sorry. No, actually, I'm not. I was sort of sorry before, but I'm not at all sorry now. If anything, my opinions of her just got reinforced. Look, Jess, I know you're reading this. Let's just be content for me to not like you very much and for you to hate me, mmmkay? By the way, your laundry is still here. Might want to pick that up since Bryan and I really want to get the den done. Thanks, honey bunch.
See, here's the great thing about living in the US. I can write whatever I want. As long as I'm not threatening bodily harm or any otherwise illegal activity, I can post whatever I want. That's the great thing.
Nobody can tell me what I can't post. So, if I want to write about my opinions on someone, I can. IF it hurts your feelers, tough cookies. If I find out more of the situation later, I may amend it, I may not. If I feel I was in the wrong, I'll apologize.
The right to freedom of speech is recognized as a human right under Article 19 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and recognized in international human rights law in the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights . So please, people, don't tell me "You better take that down." Or you'll do what? Piss and moan? HA! Okay, have at it.
If you want to tell me "You're so dumb, and so young. You are so immature, you're a conniving, selfish, immature, manipulative evil bitch" (that is a direct quote from Ms. Mature herself) I don't have a problem with that. Why? Because you have a right to it. What I do have an issue with is you telling me I can't have mine.
Let's review: my opinion=mine to have. My right. Your opinion=yours to have. Your right. Do we have to agree? Clearly, no.
My bloggy friend Jacquline fought her ass off in Iraq to defend my freedoms. So did millions of other Americans. Do you think I'm about to cheapen what they did and dishonor them by not using the freedoms some of them died for? Hell no. Why make their lives in vain?
ME! My life seems to be never ending drama.
Bryan talked to Joe last night about Leah. Apparently, Leah felt uncomfortable about spanking her daughter because she didn't know how we would react. Per Bry she was afraid we would think less of her for it. (We would'nt have.) Apparently, her daugher does indeed get spanked. However, I still think she could've removed Bro from the room until she calmed down. (And paddled her ass while she was at it.)
She is also trying to get her on a schedule. I sincerely wish her best of luck with that. Her DD needs to be on a schedule.
She didn't give her any of the rice and rolls because DD is a messy eater and she didn't want to mess up our house. So that was done out of respect. Okay, that's fine. At least she was thinking about everyone.
I still think a parenting class wouldn't kill her. I know she's a single Mom. But seriously. I'm a first timer, too. But I at least get advice from books, other parents, doctors on how to give my child the best possibly upbringing. If she thinks that I'm way off by saying her kid needs discipline and a schedule, fine. Tell ya what: Why don't you talk to a child counselor or your pediatrician? I'm sure they'd agree.
Bry also explained that I wasn't mad that Joe had her over, because I wasn't. It was that they left very late, we had to work the next morning, and it also upset Pooks schedule, which isn't pretty. (She woke up at 12:30 screaming. I think she was gassy but she also had her routine interuppted and I think that had a hand in it.) Anyhoo, Joe said he'd talk to her.
Good, it means the problem is solved. I was going to talk to him about it, but since Bry already did no sense in beating a dead horse.
Now for the 3 of you (litterally. THREE) who read my blogs daily, you've got expectations. You expect that I will be my usual snarky sarcastic self. You expect that I don't hold back. Why should I? This is my blog, why should I have to censor myself? You also expect that I will give the information as I know it to be at that time. If it changes later, I'll fill you in.
Blogging is cathartic for me. It lets me vent, which I need. I let a lot of stuff go in my life because I vent about it on here and I feel better. I've made bloggy friends on here, who read my blogs. Its like venting to a friend about my life. Bottom line: I'm not going to stop. If you don't like my site, you can find another site.
I told you that to tell you this: Leah found my blog. She is mad. As in called Joe at 0600 hours crying mad. Of course, Joe was mad. Leah said I insulted her and her child.
To a point, she's right. I did insult her. I was apalled at her DD behavior that night, and what she did/didn't do to stop it. I completely disagree with how she handled the situations, and I wrote as such. Now, I've found out more and blogged as such. So, I'm sorry that I insulted her. (Well...Kinda.)
I'm not sorry about writing about how I viewed the situation. This is my site, and I can do that. If you don't like it, then leave. I vented, which is what I designed this for. If you can't vent on your site, in your home, or with your friends, may I ask who the hell you're supposed to vent to? I will not apologize for blogging about what I knew as facts at the time, nor am I about to apologize for expressing my feelings. Again, if you don't like it, there's the X button: leave. And hey, if you want to start a website called "I Hate Heidi" go for it. It's your American right to do so.
Joe is also pissed that I didn't talk to him about it, and I "chose to go behind her back". Well, yes, Joe, I did. Why? Because Bry had already spoken with him about it, and I wasn't going to beat a dead horse into the ground. I would've blogged last night but I couldn't connect with the laptop. Besides, I have a sneaking suspicion that you bad mouth the hell out of me behind my back all the time anyway. And you know what, I am starting to think we should just keep it this way. You vent to whoever you vent to and I do the same. That way very little tension gets brought into the house. It's not perfect but whatever.
Here's another thing. Joe once mentioned how mature Leah was and (of course) how immature I am. Really, Joe? How does saying she'll kick my ass constitute maturity? Let's think for a moment: if you threaten to kick my ass, do you think that I'm going to hold a higher or lower opinion of you? Do you think I'll think to myself "Wow, what a mature response. I sure am glad this person chose to handle this like an adult. This person just went up a few notches in my book!" No. What I think is, "Try it and see how fast you have an assault charge on your record. Honestly, take it for what it is and grow up. Let it go. If my opinion of you wasn't much before and you're trying to change it, you aren't doing a great job."
In Summary:
This is my site. You don't like it, shove it up your ass. I do like it and I refuse to change it. This is the one place where I can be truly myself. Secondly, it wouldn't hurt to take a few (free) parenting courses for your kid. And honestly, folks, threatening bodily harm isn't a mature way to deal with things. If I really wanted to push the issue, I could have already filed charges. I'm not going to because it's stupid. But next time you think about threatening someone, just ask if there are legal ramifications to your actions. (There normally is.)
HAPPY THANKSGIVING! EAT TOO MUCH, AND HAVE FUN!
WARNING: If you do not believe in corporal punishment or teaching your kids (and yourself for that matter) some good manners, then this post is not for you. Move along folks, nothing to see here.
When we came home last night, the plan was to finish up the laundry and finish cleaning up the den. After that, we planned to re-watch Factory Girl on the boob tube. But, alas, those plans were foiled by Joe, his girlfriend Leah, and her little brat, I mean daughter, Christina.
We had told Joe on Sunday our plans to have everything done, including laundry. We came home and Leah had her entire closets worth of laundry, I swear. And she was using our washer and dryer. Now I understand that doing laundry can get expensive. I’ve been there. But could she have at least waited until Wednesday night, when we’re not there? Or when we’re all done with our laundry? So that was problem number one.
Problem number two was the whole dinner issue. Joe had invited her over for dinner, which was fine; he can have guests over. But again, we’d already told him we had other plans for the house. So now I have to play hostess to this twit, and I wasn’t in the mood, frankly. Also, when you go over to someone’s house for dinner it’s considered good manners to help cook and clean up, even if the hosts refuse your offers. Leah never got that memo.
Problem number three…Was the utter lack of discipline with her 2 year old daughter, Christina. Here’s an example: Leah and Christina were outside. Christina had Leah’s keys. Christina was smacking the keys against our car. I asked her if she could please make her daughter stop. Nothing was done. I wanted to say, “Look, Leah. I don’t want to have to bill a single Mom for body work on my car because you can’t corral your kid, but so help me God if she dents that car…” After a bit, Christina was told it was time to go inside. She threw The. Mother. Of. All. Tantrums. This continued for seven minutes and forty-eight seconds.
Yes, I timed it.
Do you think anything was done? No. She just let her daughter scream, shriek, and pound her fists and feet on the kitchen floor. My six month old daughter is looking at her like, “What the hell is your problem?” Finally, her daughter stopped. I looked at Bryan, horrified. I have this pit in my stomach, thinking this is what I signed up for when that pregnancy test turned blue, thus confirming I was with child.
Now before you say, “Well, you just don’t know toddlers!” and spurn my blog with hatred, let me explain. I know that toddlers can and will throw tantrums, okay? I get that. However, if my Mother or Father, or Bryans Mother or Father, or hell, even Bryan himself had been in that situation, rest assured things would’ve turned out a bit differently. The child would have gotten a few firm swats on the ass, and the kid would’ve been told “If you don’t knock it off, I will give you something to cry about” in That voice.
If you don’t know what That voice is, let me explain. That voice is the voice that imparts the message that if you don’t stop what you’re doing right now, you will rue the day you were born. As a child growing up, you are intimately familiar with that voice. You know that whichever parent is using that voice means business. You know disobeying when That voice is being used will result is your untimely death.
Did is stop there? Of course not, because that would’ve required effort on Leah’s part. No, this kid ran around screaming. Trying to tear up and destroy Pook’s toys. (Mommy forgot to bring any for her.) Trying to hit the baby. Pulling the dogs tail. Taking food right off our plates. (Which, by the way, why couldn’t she have made a plate for her daughter? I understand maybe she wouldn’t have liked the steak, but surely she could’ve had some of the rice and a roll?) The harshest warning or punishment this little demon child got was “Christina May, you stop that.” In the least authoritative voice I’ve ever heard. Had that been me, I would’ve been mortified at my childs behaviors, but it didn’t apparently phase her.
Here’s problem number four. Guests, like fish, stink after awhile and need to be thrown out. How do you know it’s time to leave? If the clock says it’s after 2100 hours and it’s a weekday, then you should leave. If yours hosts are changed into pajamas, you should leave. If your hosts are putting their child to bed, it’s time to leave. If your hosts are falling asleep on the couch, it’s time to leave. If you are falling asleep on the hosts couch, it’s time to leave. Yet another memo that someone forgot to forward onto Leah. How do I know this? Because all 5 examples happened and she still stayed. Someone, please, get in touch with her and give her this memo!
They ended up leaving at one. In. The. Morning. With Christina still tearing through the house. After talking with Bryan, this is normal. Leah doesn’t have her two year old daughter on any kind of a schedule. It is not uncommon for her daughter to go to bed in the wee hours of the morning, sleep all day, whatever. She does what she likes. It is obvious to me that this kid has no discipline, no structure, and no schedule. This kid is going to turn into a candidate for Nanny 911 quickly if Leah doesn’t get off her butt and do something. Hell, she’s already there.
Like I said, I know kids will have tantrums and sometimes you can’t punish them right there. But you generally do something to stop it. A look. A few words. Anything. You do not let your kid run amuck in a guests house, or throw a huge tantrum. If nothing else, take the kid aside and try to calm them down as best you can. Don’t just ignore everything. And Miss Manners would simply die if she found out you not only didn’t ask if it was OK that you tie up their laundry room for the whole night, you didn’t offer to help with dinner or dishes, and you wayyy overstayed your welcome. To say nothing if your child appalling behavior.
In closing, let me just say this. Had that been me, I wouldn’t have been able to sit for a week. My parents would’ve profusely apologized to the hosts, paddled my butt, and promptly died of shame.
To all two of my readers out there, I'm sorry in advance. This isn't going to be a very lighthearted, witty, sarcastic post. This is a pissed off, fed up woman talking here. First, the background info:
Last October, Joe, Bryans best friend, got kicked out of the house he shared with his GF. Bryan told him he could move in with us. At the time, Joe only worked a part time job as a bouncer making roughly $9 an hour. We had just found out I was pregnant. It was a very rough time in my house. I was very emotional and poor Bryan was at his wits end. We picked up alot of the slack financially for Joe. I also picked up after him as well. His 'defense' was that since he cooked and did the dishes, he shouldn't have to do anything else. He's also very crude, which I cannot stand. I don't want to know what his privates look like, (though I know now!), nor do I need to know all the intimate details of his fecal matter, or sexual exploits. But he thinks its comedy gold and thusly tells me. I would bring this up to Bryan and I was told to deal with it and grow up. "You'll have to deal with these kinds of people eventually, Heidi." I begged Bryan to force him to get his own place. "We need the money right now, Heidi. Besides, he's like family. How can I turn out family? And really, it's nice to have a break from you and hang out with someone I totally relate to." Mnay. many fights ensued about Joe. His crudeness, insensitivity, his general mysoginistic attitude towards women, how I wasn't mature enough, how I needed to grow up, how I was clearly not ready to be a Mother, how I can't/won't cook, how I do the dishes ALL WRONG!, yada yada yada. Needless to say, the limited interaction we have is pretty tumultous. Mostly because we both assume we're attacking one another, which we mostly are, despite mutual assurances that we're not.
Anyway, we got into it last night. Again. Here's the double standard I'm seeing here with this little highly dysfunctional trifecta we have going on here:
1) It's fine for Joe and Bryan to vent to each other about what a total bitch I'm am, but I'm not supposed to vent to Bryan. It puts him in the middle. Uh huh.
2) When I vent to Bryan about Joe, it causes tension. But apparently when Joe vents to Bryan about me, that causes no tension. Right.
3) Joe bitches that I don't cook or do the dishes. Yet, when I try to cook or help cook, it's an endless stream of critsicisms and jabs at my expense and if I don't do t his way, I'm obviously disrespecting him, and not interested in what he has to say. (It couldn't be that I want to try it my way, noooo.) Or that I get yelled at because I don't do the dishes exactly the way they do it. I don't inspect every micrometer of the dish for soap, which God knows, could send us all to the ER for poisoning. Yep, that happened every time when I lived on my own and did dishes my way.
4) Joe heartily believes that since he does the dishes and cooks, (in all fairness he is a wonderful cook), he shouldn't have to do anything else. Not help sweep or vacuum up the tons of dog hair his dog produces. He doesn't think he should help dust, either. Nope, I should do all that since I don't help cook or do dishes.
5) For a couple of months when I was on my maternity leave, I went from making $1200 a month to $400, and I couldn't afford to pay my share of things. Bryan said he understood, and paid for me. When I went back to work, for about 2 months I had $400 that I had to pay to the bank every paycheck to pay off a loan. In Joe's eyes, I'm a total gold-digging, no-good, lazy, selfish moocher for this. But it was cool when he was working 10 hour weeks at $9 an hour and we paid for him. Riiiight.
6) I'm a horrible mother. Because I don't let Pook fuss it out, don't use his parenting advice, and I can't seem to multitask when I'm with her. She consumes all my attention and energy, while Joe, God that he is, can. His mother did it, why can't I? Why is it I can multitask at work but not at home? (Could it be that my computer, phone, and sales reps don't screech at the top of their lungs if my full undivided attention isn't on them??) And because I go out every so often with my girls. Because, ya know, "My mother's sole happiness in life was seeing her family warm, happy, and fed." (Which I doubt, but whatever.) This coming from a man who hasn't seen his daughter in over a year. (Looong story.) But hey, he's Doctor Spock on parenting.
7) I obviously don't care if either one of them has had a crappy day. WTF? Excuse me? Contrary to his belief, I kinda have to care about whether or not he's had a crappy day because it affects Bryan which affects me. Because when I ask bryan why he's had a bad day, Joe said "I know exactly what made it a bad day. Either Dave [coworker] or you." Well thanks. Pardon me for not assuming that it might be something else, like his ex, system issues, or his boss. Oh, and when I have a bad day I take it out on everyone else, and "that is rude and disrespectful". Oh, but when y'all have bad days and are nasty for the rest of the night, I'm supposed to be cool with it? Puh-leeze.
8) Another issue is the government aid I get. Because I'm unmarried, by IRS standards I'm considered a single mother. I get WIC and daycare help. When he was with his GF and their baby, they got WIC, Welfare, and food stamps. He actually had the nerve to tell me, "Yeah, you had a baby that I'm paying for!" Okay...But when my tax dollars paid for your kid that was fine?
9) I drive Bryans car. We sold my old car back in July. For one, we needed something bigger since it was impossible to fit Bryan, me, his kids, and Pook in the car. We used the money to pay off some things, and groceries and other bills. I put gas in Bryans tank as much as I can afford to, and yes, sometimes Bryan has to pay for it. Joe drives Bryans old pickup and does the exact same thing. But because I peeled out last night in a rage, I am disrespectful to Bryans things. (Leaving soda cans and food wrappers in the bed of his pickup is kosher, however.)
10) He assumes all the f***ing time that I am disrespecting him and treats me in kind. What he doesnt realize, despite my attempts to explain otherwise, is that I don't invest that much emotional energy into him. I actually make a consious effort to NOT come off as disrespectful. I don't think he does. (Maybe I'm wrong.) He thinks I'm incredibly immature and I need to grow the f**ck up. (His exact words, folks.) I have tried to explain that I am doing the best I can, but it doesn't happen over night, and for the record, I happen to think I'm pretty mature for only being 23. He won't listen to anything I have to say if it isn't 100% in agreeance with him, and mocks my views/thoughts/opinions. Yet when I respond in kind, I am (again) being disrespectful blah blah blah.
So anyway, I'm not sure what to do here but hopefully y'all will understand why I am seeing double. I've tried talking to both Bryan and Joe but it does no good. I keep trying to tell myself to wait until March when our lease is up and he moves out. I try to psyche myself up saying I don't need to put up with this shit, but then it creates tension in the house.
And in all fairness, Joe does have his good points. He's a fabulous cook. He will defend his ideas to the death. (As do I, which creates conflict.) He firmly believes in what he thinks is right, and he doesn't sway from it. He is unwaveringly loyal to Bryan and truly wants what is best for Bryan. However, we seem to have different ideas on what's best for Bryan. He's also got an iron clad work ethic. When he debates a point, he's thoroughly researched it and can counter any point. (Notice I did NOT say argument. Debating and arguing are different things.)
Thanks for listening. You stay classy, Spokane. (And internet.) Love you all.
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