Tuesday, May 18th 2010
Why I Will Never Open a Spa

So I was stressed. I think that picture may have been painted a little too clearly and er, sorry. Wasn’t that fun to read?  The awful part is that AFTER i wrote all that? It all got worse. I mean, WAY.

Kim-16yr was here, and we really (optimistically, crazily, whatever) expected it all to go well. But it pretty much didn’t.  I won’t get into it all. Still sorting it out. She’s found me to be extremely lacking in perceived mothering abilities, once again, and simply saying, “eh. Too bad. I’m actually a better mom than you’re giving me credit for, and I’m WILLING AND WANTING TO BE YOURS ” is not enough. As usual.


So. Kim-16yr and Mike left today and I went about the very serious business of breathing. De-stressing. Living. Relaxing.

This involved killing it at the gym. The free weights and machines and big inflatable balls and treadmills all cheered when I left. I had exhausted them, and they were glad to see me leave. (And I really, really hurt but it was worth it).

Then? Plucking eyebrows. I like the productive little pricks of pain, I admit it.

Then I cleaned. Even though the housekeeper came yesterday and did a great job, but still. When you need to clean, you need to clean. And the cat is still mad over the whole Nuh-UH, Larry is NOT MY BABY thing and he takes it out on the laundry room wall a couple of times a day. Which I clean. A couple of times a day. But today? Today I cleaned and then scrubbed the wall and floor with an unpeeled orange in each hand. Cats are not supposed to like oranges and this should make him stay away. Of course, I do not like oranges either, which is why we don’t have orange scented cleaners which probably would have been a whole lot easier.

So I’m on the floor, scrubbing with oranges and the cat has the nerve to come watch me. So we had a chat. Eye to eye.  Since I was there. On the floor.The cat might have gotten what was left of my parenting energy/angst that I didn’t use up on Kim-16yr.  But he had it coming, what with the Misbehavior With the Wall, a la Yellow. Because. Gross. Really. We discussed the rules of the house. I calmly told him there were only 3, that every member of the house has to adhere to them, and even if he was the cat, he was violating at least 2 of them and that was unacceptable.

After this mothering of the cat/cleaning of the wall, I had a lingering, close encounter with antibacterial soap and I drank a lukewarm diet coke and sat outside with Seth-4yr and his bubble blowing machine.

Doesn’t it sound like a relaxing haven over here..?! What 16 yr old girl wouldn’t love to live here? With a mom who relaxes like this, life has to be sweet, right?!


2 Comments on “Why I Will Never Open a Spa”

May 19th, 2010
8:30 am

Wow. You are so awesome. You get hurt, wrongfully underestimated, abused and what do you do? Sit down with a box of donuts and chocolates and watch TV all day like the rest of America? NO. You go to the gym, burn calories, build muscles, groom yourself and clean house!?!?! Why can’t I be like that–do something productive instead of self degrading when I’m bummed? (I’d probably look more like you than like frumpy me).
Sorry about being wrong and encouraging you to have hope.

Not that you asked, but my struggle right now is: what do you do when the ‘other moms’ seem to think your children are roudy, wild and messed up, but you think they’re okay? Maybe these hoity-toity Los Angeles beach mommies should have had lap dogs instead of children. :o S Or maybe I should figure out what went wrong with my sweet little wild things…

May 19th, 2010
1:24 pm

Michele, I have whined too much and given you the wrong idea on several fronts! I’m not abused, but I am quite frumpy. It’s total frumpsville here. And you do not want to look like me – I am the mom at the baseball fields with an oversized stretch mark collection, out of control hair, and gnats in her lip gloss. Aim higher, girl.

Moms you don’t like think your kids are rowdy? Eh. Who cares? You don’t like them anyway, so you’re not going to like their ideas of parenting. Nothing went wrong with your sweet little wild things – you know that!

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