Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Don't read this if swearing offends you, or alternatively titled, Motherfucker

Just so you know I'm going to swear gratuitously now.  Just because it motherfucking feels good.

The motherfucking fish hasn't been fed in a few days. His tank is starting to get pretty sketchy. The cat litter is, well, it's pretty motherfucking gross. I did the motherfucking laundry, several motherfucking loads in fact. The proof is in the living room where, in between the motherfucking dust tumbleweeds, lie piles upon piles of laundry that was neatly folded until the children discovered it was fun to jump into like their own personal leaf piles. I cannot yet bring myself to motherfucking refold it and put it away. In short, my home looks like it's been burgled (but by motherfucking burglars who realized that we had nothing good to steal so they just decided to trash the motherfucking place). I am, truly, decidedly, and most certainly-definitely-completely-motherfuckingly overwhelmed in the chaos. Domestic engineer, my motherfucking ass. Housewife. Homemaker. Bwah ha ha!  Motherfucker. This clearly ain't my bag. I am domestically deficient.

Everything feels like a delicate balance and trade-off of what I can and can't force myself to accomplish. I got the motherfucking grass cut, but child services might yank the littles if they made it past the cleanly cut lawn to the innards of my motherfucking home (and as an aside, I did not motherfucking whippersnip the lawn, because i didn't have time and because it's motherfucking annoying, and caught my across the street neighbor doing it for me at 7 am this motherfucking morning. I am, apparently, THAT neighbour).

I have friends with kids who always warn me about the chaos of their houses when I come over. And their spaces are almost always motherfucking immaculate compared to mine. Are they lying? Keeping up with the Jonese? Or are they really that much more able to keep the motherfucking chaos at bay?

From time to time, I like to console myself that despite my very clear (and motherfucking) failure at the domestic, um, arts, I am a pretty good motherfucking mom. However, today, after living in shambles, attempting a playdate that turned put to be mainly motherfucking tantrum damage control, taking the kids to a really gross motherfucking playplace for dinner with no motherfucking nutrients whatsoever, because I couldn't stand the thought if returning to the shambles of my motherfucking house, and then attempting to take them motherfucking shopping for a motherfucking present for my ex (who is a great mother) for motherfucking mothers day (which is a motherfucking joke of a day because it's just plain motherfucking ridiculous to have a day to celebrate an occupation that no one actually motherfucking respects the rest of the 364 days of the year), and said children went ape-shit in all kinds of childlike ways, I lost my motherfucking shit. In motherfucking public.  Like, in an epic motherfucking-screaming-like-a-banshee-in-the-parking-lot kinda way.  It was motherfucking classy.

Those who can teach. Those who can't motherfucking blog?


(OH MAN!  That felt really, really, motherfucking great.)


  1. (just to let you know, I found you via my friend Stacey on fb, from a comment she made on this blog.)

    Oh, have been there & done that. My girls are 14 & 17 now, so the tantrums are much less, tho definitely NOT gone.

    Apparently, we are THAT neighbor as well, as yearly, we get a notice from the city to remove our weeds or else.. and occasionally, they come by and mow the ditch that is more like a moat when it rains because it is so deep and we can't get our mower fully in there and OMG it's too much to weed whack.

    Like you, friends apologize for the state of their house, and I walk in, and it looks, immaculate. Mine, I look at, and it's something between tornado / burglar ransack / an episode of Hoarders. I cringe when I get home some days, and would rather stay at work.

    I did the stay at home thing with my girls for about 13 years, it's been just over 2 full years I've been back to work full time, and you'd think that now that I commute and get in the same time as hubby, I'd see more help from family in getting shit done. But no, I'm still mom the taxi driver, mom the cook, mom the laundry service, mom the maid (who quit-hence the wreck of a house we are in). Don't get me wrong, love my family more than life itself, but some days, I want to bash their heads together & run away. That's when I just stuff myself in front of my computer, headphones on, and tune out the arguing teens & make them work it out, as long as it's not all gladiator style, I'm fine with that!

    And mother's day, right there with ya. BTW, Happy Mother's Day, a few days early.

  2. 1) I'm much happier now that I let the piles of shit build for days or more. Heck, our daughter has been sleeping with us because her bed is the home of ALL of EVERYONE'S clean unfolded laundry. For weeks. Sometimes I feel guilty about being a bad role model, but my angry/frustrated mom me is much worse. I need my energy to deal be a good parent, in this case as defined by my interactions with my children. Or so I tell myself. I'm picking my battles and the home ain't one of them. I get away with it by never having people over, then cleaning 2 days straight if someone is coming over... hence some may roll their eyes at how "unclean" my place is...the moral is "let it go" "stop giving a shit" (just ignore the part about me actually giving a shit, hence power cleaning when needed)
    2) how perfect do you think ex will be if she is the full time caregiver? and you part-time? That would be an interesting experiment. I have a feeling your self-perceived success rate would sky-rocket.
    3) actually, your neighbor is THAT neighbor