Snarky Bitch vs my logic and math-impaired son

"You never find me something to watch!" whines the former uterus hostage. Now please bear with me, we just spent 2 hours watching mind numbingly annoying kid-friendly shows, but I NEVER find anything for him to watch.
"Are you kidding me?!", was my awesome comeback for him.
Let the tears of righteous indignation begin to flow! "No! I am not kidding you. You never find me something to watch! NEVER!" as his bottom lip is trembling and tears are flowing down his face. Is that snot I see??
I sigh, lift up my left hand and begin the math portion of this conversation.
*lifting one finger* "Who just wanted to watch America's Funniest Videos?" I ask UH.
Still crying he says "Me".
*onto the next finger, 2 are held up now* "And who likes Dora?"
Again, still crying, wiping his nose on his sleeve, "Me".
*holding up 3 fingers now* "What about LaLaLoopsie? Who likes that?"
More tears, but a smile as well, "I do!"
*the 4th and final finger on my left hand is now up* "And what about TUFF Puppy? Who do we know that likes that show?"
The tears are slowing down, but the snot...it is a-flowing, "I do".
*Moving to my right hand now, I hold up one finger* "This is how many shows I like and got to watch. So again, I never find something for you to watch? Still believe that?"
This incredible kid of mine, starts crying full-on again and says to me "Because you never let me watch anything when I ask to!"
I'll admit it, I lost my mom cool for a moment and said "Are you kidding me?!? You watched 4 shows tonight, I watched 1! One show, UH! Look at my hands! There are 4 fingers of shows you wanted, and got to, watch but only 1 show for me!" *at this point I pause and ask him which hand had more fingers, he chose the left hand with the 4 fingers showing*
He says to me "Uh-huh, and you won't let me watch another show, so you NEVER find me something to watch", and cue the tears, snot and quivering bottom lip.
I sigh at him, go to the kitchen, grab a drink return to the living room, turn off the TV and let him know it's bath time before asking him to put away his toys for the night.

I mean, for fucking real! This kid knows math! He told me the right hand had fewer fingers up than the left, but in his mind, I never let him watch anything because the second he asked me to find him something to watch I didn't jump like lightening struck me and give in to his demands! What a total bitch his mom is!
I'm pretty sure he's going to have a full-on TV blackout for a couple days. This is beyond selfishness and I'm over it!

Snarky Bitch Mom, out!

Snarky Bitch vs. late night phone call and unnamed caller's intimate voicemail

   Saturday night. Geek Sailor (GS) is working the overnight shift this weekend and UH (uterus hostage) had gone to bed a little later than usual, because it's the weekend. I got comfortable on the sofa and started watching the shows I had recorded during the week.
    I don't normally flip a switch and start getting paranoid, especially when it comes to my marriage. We're very honest and have an unbelievable level of trust, given we've been burned by past lovers. Well, I know I have been burned for sure.

    Which is why, when the phone rang a little after midnight, I assumed it was GS calling even though he's much more likely to text or Voxer me. I didn't reach the house phone in time. Because I had to run upstairs and the phone ringer was set low so I didn't hear it right away. When I did reach it, there was a new voicemail waiting.
    Before checking the voicemail, I looked at the caller ID. I didn't know the name or number that had called. I dialed the house number and checked the voicemail:
   "Hi. It's me. It's late, but I'm still up. I didn't know which number to call. Call my room number if you're awake. Love ya"

    Did I mention it was a woman's voice?!? No. Yeah, it was a woman's voice.

    I immediately started messaging GS to find out what the mother-fuck was going on! Who the hell was this chick calling my HOME number, not giving a name and saying "Love ya"?!?!
    I under 3 minutes I had myself convinced my entire marriage was going to blow up.

    Then GS called me, after he read the message I sent him with the voicemail and phone number. Any man who is having an affair wouldn't blindly let his known-to-be-crazy-and-vindictive wife call an unfamiliar phone number when the caller left a message ending with "love ya".
     But that's exactly what GS was okay with me doing. I called the number from the home phone again, got voicemail and hung up. Why should I leave a message?
    The woman called me back, less than 5 minutes later.
me: Yeah?
Random caller: Uh....
me: Hello?
RC: Hi. I'm sorry, I just saw you called me.
me: Uh, yeah....I don't know who you're trying to call.
RC: Oh! You're not Karen?
me: No.
RC: Is this Karen's number?
me: Uh...no.
RC: Oh! I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I called so late. I've got the wrong number.
me: Ya think?!

   Now, GS was impressed because I didn't go off on this woman and tell her she nearly ruined our marriage with her inability to listen to a mailbox message before leaving a message like that. Our outgoing message HAD both our names plus last names in it. Well, had. Because as off last night, I changed it to be a very clear and contrite message with just our family's last name.

   I guess, if he gave me reason too, I could assume the worst. Instead, we're joking about how the phone call was for me since she was clearly a lesbian looking for a hookup! HA HA
   That's how our marriage works. In the span of  20 minutes, I went from pissed, convinced my marriage was over to joking about my lesbian lover calling the house phone and leaving me a love message.

Stop riding my ass, I'm working on my Karma...you fucktard!

   It's the holiday rush. Everyone has some place to be and it's more important than the where the person in front of them is trying to get too. It's so bad, my annoyance with other drivers that is, that Nix has started correcting me when I'm being mean.
   "Mom, "idiot" is not nice".
   "Mommy, you shouldn't call someone stupid."
   " But that was a man and they have peenies not vaginas"

   That last one needs some explaining.
   I was getting bad at calling people "cunts" when driving. Nix started repeated a lot of what I was saying, in perfect context of course, and with him in school "cunt" was something I needed to erase from my vocabulary when he was in the car.
   My choice? Vagina! It makes perfect sense. I started calling people "dirty vagina" when they were driving stupid. No turn signal? Almost hit me when you switch lanes? Talking on your cellphone and rolled through that stop sign? All reasons I would call you a "dirty vagina". I had it pointed out that I wasn't being fair by calling both men and women "vaginas". But that's not really the case. I call men who drive poorly, "dumb penis". Sometimes Nix points out the driver I was annoyed by was not a woman and I had to correct myself.

   The point of all this? If his teachers can't appreciate my effort to call people biologically correct terms for body parts we've all seen in some way/shape/form, then this is in vain for nothing.

    Parking lots are the bane of my existence these days. I've decided that parking lots are going to be my patience-building exercise. I'm super nice and calm in parking lots. I wave pedestrians across, even if they're not in or even near, the crosswalk. I stop and let a car back out, and if I see someone else coming to the newly empty spot with a turn signal on, I'll wave them into it, even if I was there first. Turn signal usage deserves a reward! I let cars out who have been stuck trying to make a left out of an aisle and no one lets them in. I wait extra long at the large crosswalk areas if there's a woman with kids in tow, making sure they all crossed safely before I move.
    It may sound like I'm the nicest asshole ever, right?
   A lot of those things, might have been done out of spite to some asshat-fucktard-cunt-grease whore who sits behind me and flashes their lights or beep their horn trying to get me to move faster than the cars in front of me are moving.  Sometimes, I do things out of genuine kindness, especially if Nix is in the car with me but more often than not, I'm being spiteful while being kind.
   
    Why can't people stop being total assfaced-jerk offs and let me be nice to be nice?!? I doubt I get any Karma points for an act of kindness done to be spiteful towards someone else, right?

    By the way, it's a pretty sad world when even my 5-year-old child is starting to tell people "No talking on the phone! You need to drive!"....I'm even willing to overlook the one time he yelled that followed by something about punching the person in the face. That was my bad. I had just said the same thing in the car towards an old woman who was driving with her head down, in the center of the aisle and not even noticing the number of people she nearly hit, because her head was down. She finally looked up, at me and my car, and she had a cigarette in her mouth. I'm assuming she was digging in her "pocketbook" for a lighter. That was when I said "Bitch if you hit my car, I will punch you in the face!"

   On a different note, Nix likes to tell me "Calm down, Mommy. You need a coffee." I love his logic, and he's not wrong.  

When the snarky bitch is now a mom, it becomes a balancing act to control the snarkasm*

   Today is Halloween.
   Wait, that's not right. It should be: Today is motherfucking Halloween, bitches!!

   This morning, Little Man got dressed up in his costume and I was able to go to school with him for his first ever school Halloween party! And holy shit, y'all, was it something to behold! There were Disney Princesses, Iron Men, Ninja Turtles, Spiderman, a Supergirl, an astronaut, a police officer and then there was Little Man totally proud, happy and content in his Pinkie Pie costume!

My Little Pinkie Pie...with his teacher. 

   The kids were all standing by the door as each child came in, waiting to see what everyone was wearing. The girls were totally in love with Little Man's costume! Even a couple boys gave him a high-five and said they liked it. Then....there was the "mean table" of 2 boys that started saying Little Man was dressed as a girl and he was a doll from Lalaloopsie. I guess they thought it was going to bother Little Man, as they said it quite loudly and to everyone who asked what Little Man's costume was. They were wrong. Little Man totally ignore them and said "I'm Pinkie Pie!" and went on to enjoy his other friends costumes.
   When that was getting a reaction, punkass-kid decided to start following Little Man around telling him he was a girl. Little Man, not realizing this was being done in a cruel manner, turned around and told the child "I'm a boy." in case the kid was confused.
    Now, I'm watching all this go down. Punkass-kid was only doing this shit when the teachers were distracted by other children or setting up an activity. Little shit's slick, I'll give him that.

    What bothered me most is there were other mothers who never stepped in to say something. Sure, it's the teachers classroom, but there were times I saw the kids doing things I knew the teachers don't allow, so I said something to stop it. (throwing the reading pillows at each other clearly stood out in my mind, as I know I've seen both teachers tell the kids the pillows are to stay on the floor and not be used to hit anyone) Yet, instead of trying to remind kids that Halloween costumes are about creativity and fun, these mothers were throwing Little Man questionable looks themselves when they saw his costume and heard what he was. Out of the almost 10 parents there this morning, one....motherfucking one!...mother said hello to me. Hell, she was the only one who even returned my smile. I wasn't giving off a bitch vibe! I'd had my coffee before going, I was there to "play nice". It's Halloween, it's supposed to be fun, right??
    Evi-fucking-dently not. It felt just as cliquey as any high school classroom I can remember. I wasn't dressed right, my kid wasn't playing the right way, his costume wasn't gender correct....for all those things it felt as if I was invisible.
    Except to the kids. There were a couple little girls who know me as "Little Man's Mom" and said hi, then quickly asked where he was and what he was wearing (they hadn't seen him yet). One little girl, especially, was super happy to see Little Man. She's the nicest to him and it warms my heart that he has a little friend like her. She's the first to say "hi" and she tries to say "bye" every day. It's adorable!

    Then the worst happened. Punkass-kid decided to take advantage of a group photo and sit next to Little Man. He kept picking on him, and was getting ignored....so he elbowed Little Man in the collarbone. Little Man told the teacher, she said it must've been an accident but I'm positive it wasn't. Today really made me realize my son is a strong individual. He's been telling us about these two "mean boys" for almost a month now. I've talked to the teachers and the school director and they've assured me they're watching the situation, but they only have so many eyes for so many kids, right?
   I brought Little Man home a little later. He had fun but was way overwhelmed and I couldn't hold my tongue much longer.

   What bothers me isn't that the kid was being a total shit! It's that he's smart enough to know how to get away with being a bully without being caught. For some reason these 2 boys have teamed up and think Little Man is a good target for them to pick on, but he doesn't care. He really doesn't care what people say about him because he doesn't yet grasp the concept of cruelty and words.
   The raging MommaBear-bitch in me wanted to explode on that little shit and ask how he even know what a Lalaloopsie doll was, if it's so girly. The assumption is he has a sister, but who the fuck cares?!? These kids are 4 and 5, they should be too young to be taunting each other with the intent to be mean, right? Kids are not born mean. Fuck, if it was a genetic thing, Little Man would be one mean little fuck, because my family alone has quite the evil-steak in us. But he's not. Instead he's a kind, funny, genuinely sweet kid and that's his nature from birth. I'm nurturing him to be himself, not some false bravado asshole shell of a person. I'm trying to let him be confidant in his own skin, which isn't always easy when ADULTS judge children for being a child.
   I adore my child. I adore who he is. I want him to be himself and not feel the need to fit in just to be liked. But fucken-a is it damned hard to do when I was the outsider growing up, the bullied kid and the one that wanted so badly to fit in. I need to break my bad habits and help him be stronger than I was.
   I have to say, from what I saw today, he's doing okay. He ignored the comments and didn't hit back. He did cry, but he's 4 I feel he's allowed to cry when upset at this age. He's a kid, goddammit!

...and then I put my car in reverse, parked it and got out to find out what the fuck was going on with the giant garbage dumping that was happening in my neighborhood!

    I keep to myself, for the most part. I say hello to my neighbors or do a head nod and smile when passing a neighbor, but I don't actively seek confrontations or to forge friendships with the people who live around us.
    All that changed this morning as I was leaving our housing area and saw not 1 but 3 cars and a large trailer of trash being left on the grass just a few houses away from ours. Trash had been picked up this morning, and it was obvious these people were DUMPING this shit in my neighborhood on purpose. I though, for all of 5 seconds, to drive away and let it go.
    Then I thought fuck this shit, threw my car into reverse, parked right in front of one of the cars dumping shit and got out. I walked over to the guy who was obviously the ring leader (he was pointing and yelling at everyone around him) and asked if they were tenants of the community. He said "Don't worry your head, this is an eviction matter." Yeah, because that's going to appease me. I repeated my question and he said there's was an officer I could talk to and pointed to the Sheriff's car. I went over to the marked police car and found it empty.
   SO I went back to my car and called the local authorities. It was explained to me, that in the case of evictions, the tenants can leave belongings on the curb. But this didn't appear to just be one tenants belongings, there was a trailer that they were removing shit from! And there was 2 other cars in front of the house with the eviction notice. As I was explaining this to the dispatcher, the truck with trailer and 2 other vehicles left. I told the dispatcher not to send a car, after she asked if I'd like an officer to come over and speak to me, because the people were leaving.

    What the fuck, yo?!? You get evicted and you're allowed, legally allowed, to put piled and piles of trash on the curb? Even going so far as to bring more trash just to leave?!

    If you thought that was the end, you'd be wrong.
    I came home about 2 hours later and found they had returned and were now running a swap meet, of sorts, from the pile of shit! There were 6 cars pulled along side the piles and it was being treated like a garage sale! Evidently, my assumption is, they saw my on my phone and left only to return at some point while I was out.
    At this point, because apparently the shit dumping is legal, I'm in my house away from the eviction flea market jamboree that's going on.
    Keep it classy, folks.

Apparently, my cellphone suddenly developed a personality that is similar to that of a born-again-virgin....fucking slut!

  I, like almost every other American over the age of (oh, I don't know....12, 15, 18 for sure) have a strong and serious dependent relationship with my phone. It's nothing fancy, a smart phone, but like the dumbest version I could possibly get. It's like the "Smart Phone for Dummies" of smart phones. But, I love it because we get 3g, wireless, unlimited....blah, blah, blah and it's only $55 a month.

   So, because my phone's kind of a bitch, yep it's totally my phone, it has raging periods of refusing it's charger. It will give a message that says "Unable to charge battery with incompatible charger. Please check user manual."....as I'm using the exact same charger I've been using that came in the motherfucking box with the goddamned phone since day mother-fucking one! I will get this message, like no shit, for a week and then POOF, no more message and the phone is not acting schizo anymore (not to insult Amanda Bynes or anyone else battling with this evil mental illness).

   What's frustrating is: I have no other way to charge my phone when it does this shit! Tonight, the hub's is at work with his phone (same model and same problem but he's had at least 3-4 different chargers since we got the phone last summer) and his charger. So I'm raging pissed, because while my phone is a schizo pms-ing bitch, I'm just a straight up tired fucking bitch who is starting to rolling with the gentle tidal wave that will become PMS.

   Which all led to this:

   
   So I might have issues, but my phone was previously a slut who would get a charge from any compatible dick charger, but now is refusing ALL compatible chargers. I'm starting to get why high school boys were so hostile and angry when their girlfriends suddenly stopped putting out after a pregnancy scare...that her best friend had! It's fucking frustrating! I know you like a good charge, you know I like a good, full battery let's stop with the games and just charge your fucking battery and call it a fucking day!
   Goddamned fucking charge-tease!


**at least spell check has stopped trying to get my to correct my usage of "fuck" and it's variations! It's about damned time, yo!

Down, but not giving up!

   Anyone who has dealt with depression themselves or watched a loved one battle this demon, knows it's a bitch. I've watched family members and friends face-off against this monster most of my life. Some win, with a lot of help, and for some its a losing battle, because they can't/won't ask for help. I, myself, take medications to keep my head straight. It's not depression but it's a mental issue none-the-less, which was affecting me as a mother/wife/friend and person. I needed help and finally realized it was time to get it when I saw fear in my child's eyes as he looked at me. Never again, was the thought I had when I admitted it was time to fix my shit.

   I'm not home. That's not true. I'm home with my husband and son. My family. I'm not home with the family I came from not created, if that makes sense. Without going into a lot of details, my dad is facing some health issues which seem to have sent him into another downward spiral of depression. A family member, who does live just miles from my parents, saw my dad recently and noticed he is not taking care of himself. Rather than stopping to talk to him and ask how he's doing, this family member went about their business, barely pausing to say hello.
   Am I angry? You fucking bet I am! This family member is well aware of the struggles my father has had with depression. But instead of growing up and putting the past behind them, they insist on blanketing themselves in the past, holding on to it like a shield that justifies any and all slights they now do to my parents, out of spite or out of plain indifference, it doesn't matter. At this time, in my family's life, we can't choose where we live, the Navy dictates that for us. I do the best I can, living about 500 miles away, but for fucks sake, I have family that live less than 5 miles away and do nothing!

   Speaking of family. Who the fuck says "I've been depressed before too, but I still washed my ass"?!? An insensitive, self-righteous snot, that's who! I've seen people, I've been people, so depressed that eating, showering, even getting out of bed is a struggle. It's so hard to do. It doesn't need to be belittled and looked down upon by someone else claiming they understand depression and that's not depression! Fuck you! You were lucky, and you didn't sink down as deep as this person is sinking. Try tossing a lifeline of hope instead of judgement and condemnation!

   I don't know if I can help my dad. I don't know if he wants help. But I do know, I'm not judging him. He's got a plateful of shit sitting in front of him to digest and it seems to only get fuller and fuller as days go by.
    I want him to know, he's not alone. I'm not there by his side, but I'm in his heart.

   Sometimes, being a grown up really fucking sucks. Being a grown up far from home, when issues with parents arise, sucks even more. Knowing you're really the only one who wants to fight to save a loved one, but you're not physically there to make a difference....hurts like hell. But I'm not giving up!

I WILL NOT YIELD!! DC drivers, I'm talking to/about you.

Goddamned DC! There is nothing worse on this side of the fucking planet, than fucking DC streets, with their fucking shitty paving and tunnels to roundabouts and motherfucking drivers that do not know how to fucking merge to save their fucking dying grandmother's life!

First, a tip: To every single, ignorant cuntfuck driver who seems to think they are the ONE person able to actually drive and use their iPhone. You are not! Put the phone down or fucking park, but stop trying to do both. Everyone knows by now it's illegal, but for some reason you're the obvious exception to the rule.

Next: If its raining outside, please stop tailgating!

Followed closely by: If the street you're driving down is congested, stop trying to force your way in. Also, stop blocking side roads and stop trying to beat red lights. The only thing you're doing is adding to the congested traffic. YOU FUCKING MORONS HAVE SOME COMMON FUCKING SENSE!

Also, if you are on the highway, the YIELD sign is directed at the lane of traffic inbound to the highway NOT you. I say this because the car in front me of did not understand this, as was evident by the driver's braking and letting cars in that lane in. We were going 60mph when this donkeycunt punch decided to do this...on wet pavement.
I was tired, I needed some coffee and I was annoyed by the overabundance of asshole drivers surrounding me. So how did I react? I slapped my hands on my steering wheel and yelled "I WILL NOT YIELD!", thankfully my husband is used to my random outbursts and understood I was reaching the end of sanity rope and just let the outburst slide.

Finally, this one almost made me see red. And not just because the vehicle involved was a red truck. This assmunch was trying to switch lanes. Here's a thought, when you can see INTO the car, at the DRIVER of the vehicle in the lane you want to get into, it's not going to happen! The lane switch that is.
Today: I'm in the center lane, red truck in the right lane. Red truck is far enough that I can look over at my passenger window and see the driver, as he is moving INTO my lane! I watch this happen, glance to left lane and see line of traffic no room to move. I honk HARD at the guy moving AT my car, not into my lane, no he's moving AT my car, while we're doing an easy 70mph. This cocksucking assmunch of a fucktard looks over at me and fucking grins! I mean full on "look at me teeth, aren't they cumguzzling white" grin. Then he jerked back into the right lane.
I almost had a fucking heart attack! I don't have many fears when it comes to driving, but getting into a crash on the highway with a fucking psycho and having my son in the car with me? That's pretty high on my short list!

I'm totally convinced that drivers in DC are required to take a test, which tests for common sense. If the person passes that test, they do not get a DC drivers license. Feel free to disagree with me on this one, but until I see one smart and courteous driver in DC with DC plates on their car, I refuse to accept that the "common sense evaluator" is not part of the testing process.

Shit..this is my damned life!

Damn...the pentacle outside my front door isn't working.
I don't mind religious folks. I do mind when you try to share a Bible verse with me, after I tell you I'm not interested, have read the Bible, grew up with 4 different versions of Christianity and went to a parochial school ("What is that?" not a good question)...when you tell me "It helps to read the Bible as an adult, you understand more"
So yes, I will tell you my personal reasons for not believing. Do you know why? There are no answers you can give me for what I went through...no verse in your little magic book that makes my bitterness magically go away, because I don't believe. It's my choice. I tried being nice. I started by stopping her and saying, "I'm sorry, my household is Pagan agnostic, we don't believe in God" very warmly not at all judgemental or hateful.

**knock, knock**
Nixon: Mommy there's someone at the door.
me: Thanks, kiddo. *grabs a hoodie, I ain't wearing a bra!*
Opens the door
(fuck me...I see Bibles!)
me: Yes?
woman A: Hello, we're out sharing the word with our neighbors, given what's going on in the world over the past couple hours. *starts opening her Bible*
me: Oh,I'm sorry, my household is Pagan agnostic, we don't believe in God
Woman A: Have you ever read the Bible?
me: *chuckles* Oh, I'm sorry. Yes, I grew up reading the Bible. I was brought up with 4 different variations of Christianity and went to a parochial school. I've read the Bible multiple times, it's of no comfort to me.
Woman A: Well, have you read it as an adult. I've found reading it when not forced brings new meanings.
me: Look, I don't believe in God. I had a bad childhood and I asked "God" for help. I was questioning the conflicting views on the religions I had and went to different pastors and was told I was being a troublemaker, instead of being taken seriously. Religion is not helpful to me.
Woman A: Well, I'm sure God wanted to help.
me: Really, well he sure works slow. Because when I was being abused and praying for it to stop, it never did. When I was asking for help from adults, I was being ignored, so excuse me if I don't believe that your magic book has the answers to make me feel better.
*stunned silence*
Woman A: I'm sorry you went through that. But you seemed to have come out okay.
(I closed the door in her face at that point. I was getting way too angry! That's not something you say to someone you don't know who has just said they were abused. She has no idea how I am!)
Woman B just stood meekly behind the first woman and tried twice to pull on woman A's sleeve and walk away. She's smart. I liked her, she also never said a word. Another reason I liked her.

I really do not begrudge Christians or their faith. But I wish this woman would have respected my faith and left. I wasn't crying in a ball asking "Why?!?" and looking for answers. If they had been a youth group trying to raise money to go to Boston to help, I would have donated a couple bucks to get them there.
I find it interesting that, during the whole interaction, Nixon never once came to the door. He stood behind it and watched my body language. Normally, he's very friendly with anyone who comes to the door, because I'm very friendly with people who come to the door. Not today.

That's it....common sense IS DEAD!!

   As I was driving on the highway today, with Nix in the car with me, I notice the car in front of me driving out of the lane and onto the shoulder of the road. My first thought was they had some kind of vehicle issues. But that was not the case, as the driver overcompensated from the shoulder and jumped back into the lane of traffic.
   By this point, I put a healthy distance between this car and my own. I usually try to keep 3 car lengths between my car and the car in front of me, for this crazyass I made it more like 6!
  Eventually, the car switched lanes and moved into the lane on my left allowing me to get ahead of *her* (as I later saw) a place I most definitely felt more comfortable being.

   As I was passing her, I glanced over and saw the most painful thing I've witnessed happening. Let me preface this by saying a couple things:
1) Old people should not be allowed to leave the house and drive alone. EVER!
2) I wear glasses for distances but do not need them for reading.
3) I am very, very vigilant about not using my cell phone when driving.

Now what I saw: An elderly woman, holding a touch screen type cellphone, lifting her glasses off her face to see the screen, and not looking at the road at all! Remember, she had moved from the right lane of 3 lanes of traffic to the center lane! I was approaching an off-ramp and thankfully the cars in front of me all got off, because I hit the gas and put 10 car lengths between me and ole-blind-as-a-bat-cellphone-reader-grandma back there!
  Who in their right mind, thinks that lifting their glasses off their face while driving approximately 60-65mph to look at a cell phone screen, is a good idea? Anyone?!? Holy fuck on a stick, I thought the older generations had more common sense than the younger ones, but this crazy old bat proved me wrong!

   I am amazed at the number of people I see on a daily basis driving and talking on their cellphones. It pisses me off to no end, because there are laws against it! How fucking hard is it to pull over, or wait to get out of the parking spot until you're off the phone, or learn how to use the bluetooth option that came in your car (for those cars that have it)? I am almost certain the people who ride my ass, or lock up their brakes coming to a red light do it because they are too busy talking on the fucking cell phone rather than paying attention to what they should be doing....driving!

   My point is: If you can't see things up close with your fucking glasses on, and you are behind the wheel of a moving goddamned car, keep the fucking glasses on, put the goddamned fucking cell phone down and just fucking drive! I, and the other people on the road with you, will thank you for it!
   Seriously, I'm pissed that kind of bullshit even needed to be said, but evidently, it did. Someone's grandma was too fucking dumb to realize this is common-fucking-sense, and she was out driving alone in her silver RAV4, on MD50 EB towards the Bay Bridge today.

Pruning the family tree

   Well, it seems like the time has come to do some spring cleaning. But it's winter, you might be saying to yourself. And you would be correct, but I'm finding myself ass-deep in the winter blues so what better way to cheer myself up than some soul searching spring cleaning?

   This isn't just any ordinary spring cleaning, this is literally, cutting some dead weight off the ole family tree. See, I've got some real "winners" in my family and only recently have I been truly exposed to their true colors and I'm realizing I don't need that kind of ugliness in my life. What's better is, if I don't contact them I don't hear from them 95% of the time. It's like there's a force field around my hometown that prevents people who live inside of it from remembering about the people on the outside of it. And I've finally reached my breaking point. I can't and I won't be a "when it's convenient" only family member anymore. I know I'm not perfect about calling people, but dammit  if I was in the hospital or Nixon was in the hospital, I'd fucking call people! And I wouldn't try to keep a secret for 6 goddamned years and then get pissed and tell more lies when the truth came out! I don't tell lies that affect the whole family!

   Sure, everyone tells lies. I've had this same discussion with my 4-year old. Everyone lies: there are big lies, little lies and all kinds of lies in between. It takes a strong person, a person with integrity, to admit the truth when confronted and caught in a lie. Evidently integrity is not a strong suit in my gene pool. I'm changing that with Nixon.

  To me I'd rather spend my time with family who love and value me and my family. Not feel entitled to my time and visits from us. Entitlement is a serious epidemic in this country and I refuse to feed it! I have many friends and family who I keep in touch with through facebook, Skype and email because there are so many miles between us. Is it a perfect solution? NO, by no means no, but the efforts are being made and all parties appreciate the efforts being made. Telling me your life is "too busy to deal with this" when "this" is a family member who is not trouble is disgusting! To sweep something under the rug because it's not happy or nice, is how certain family members have become the way they are *cough, pothead,cough*. But what do I know? I'm just a troublemaker/problem who lives miles away.

   And the lies told haven't just hurt me, they've hurt other family members and friends as well. I'll openly admit, I am not perfect. I'm flawed, I've told my share of lies but I have never told a lie that led to a family member's depression. I've ruined my own mental health by my own actions and I've said harmful things to family members, but my child is not a pawn I use to hurt people!

   The saddest part of all of this is, when the whole situation first came to light and I confronted my family, I was told to give it time for "prayers". After these "prayers" the decision was to "leave things as they are and let it go". In other words, "god" doesn't care enough to let the truth come out. And certain family members wonder why I find no comfort in prayer or their faith....

this is my head without my meds....it's only funny after-the-fact

   I've made mention of needing and being on meds more than a few times. Perhaps I should explain what they are doing for me, by showing what I'm like without them. My brain is a special kind of fucked up. I can't even regulate stress properly. I need medication to do that. While most people get anxious and ulcers from too much stress in their lives, I get fits of rage and have epic tantrums over total nonsense! Yep, like I said, a special kind of fucked up.

   I've known for a few weeks that I've needed to get back on my meds and try a lower dose because my previous dose was having me in a conversation while not at all present. Mac had asked me more than once, as I looked directly at him as he talked to me, where exactly I was. The sad thing? I had no idea. I didn't know what he was saying or what I was thinking about.

    A little bit ago, before I went back on my meds and after I already had requested an appointment to get back on them as my issues were already glaringly obvious, I had a bad night. It was one of those night that, if I were a sane person, would have been a normal night. However since I was currently not sane, it was not a normal night.
    I was loading the dishwasher and having a bitch of a time. For some reason nothing wanted to go in properly. Instead of realizing it was me who was loading it wrong, I ended up yelling at the dishes for not loading themselves correctly! I mean full blown bitch-fest at the dishes. Shit like "You are a fucking spoon, you go here and you fucking stay there you stupid mother fucker! Why do you think you belong with the forks? Don't you know that's how sporks are made? WE ARE NOT A SPORK-MAKING FAMILY!" My coffee mugs touched and rattled against each other when the top drawer of the dishwasher moved. Instead of re-positioning the cups, I told them to "SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU LOUD BITCHES AND GET IN LINE ALREADY!" Clearly I was not a moment too soon in asking for my meds again.

    I'm on a very low dose of Prozac to keep my anxiety at bay. I have had panic attacks in the past. Those fucking suck! Really, really, really suck! I blame trying to plan a wedding for my panic attacks. My body got a taste for them during that very short period of my life.
   The other drug I'm on is called topamax. It's a neurological drug that isn't usually given out for mental health issues, but because of my stress to rage issue my doctor wanted me to try it. It was a good choice because it doesn't leave me feeling drugged (once I'm adjusted to the dose properly), I sleep really well at night (I suffer from insomnia and restless sleep), I'm not having stressed rage outbursts and I'm still normal emotionally. It's a win on all fronts!

    I will, occasionally, miss the random bullshit-induced outbursts I was prone to because sometimes they were funny. I mean, yelling at the cat for eating her food wrong?!?! That's funny! How would I know if she was eating it right or not. And this was directed to the cat who was once on Prozac herself, you'd think I'd be more sympathetic to a fellow mentally-impaired creature, right? Nope, you'd be wrong! My outbursts had no sympathy.
 
    I'm sleeping better but eating like shit. Did I mention that side effect? My taste is off and my appetite is gone. I can look at the fridge and see an entire fridge full of food and nothing I want to eat. Mac is helpful about making me find something to eat, but I still end up losing weight in the beginning. The first time I was on topamax I lost over 10 pounds in about a month. Good news was I was trying to lose those pounds in the first place and I've kept them off ever since. Bad news is most of it was from my boobs and it never came back. Fucking boob weight is always the first to go.
    Another side effect of topamax, this one is frustrating for me and anyone who is one the receiving end of it, causes me to lose the ability to complete a train of thought. This happens about 45 minutes after I take my dose for the day. I'll be in the middle of a sentence and all of a sudden the words coming out of my mouth stop making sense. I'll take a deep breath, try again, get frustrated, take another breath, say "fuck it" and walk away. Without completing my thought. That's usually my sign to go to bed.

   I'm a crazy-case that knows I need help. I'm not afraid to get help because, I hate having to admit this, on fuckmylife more than one occasion, Nixon has apologized to me after I flipped my shit in front of him for no reason! Talk about feeling like a pile of failing shitbag of a mother! He's apologizing to me, so I'll be quiet and calm again, like I had done to my dad on many a-day-after-drunken-night. Yes, I realize there's a difference, but the point is, in order to be the parent my father wasn't I had to see the problem I had and get help. So I did.
   Pride has no place in parenthood if you want to do it right.

I've got a nasty rant coming on....

   I'm sure by now almost everyone has heard about the senseless violence that struck an elementary school in Connecticut today. I'm heartsick for each person affected by this devastation.  I'm doing my best to keep it together while Nixon is awake. I'll have my breakdown but not in front of my son. Right now I have to mom-up, put on my big girl panties and take care of him. Later, on my own time, I'll cry and rage for those who are forever gone because of some man's evil and hateful plan.

   This rant isn't about him. He's a piece of shit and won't get an ounce of sympathy from my soul. My sympathies are better spent on the families that are broken beyond repair now.

   My rage isn't even about gun control. Acts like this always give that particular bag of crazy a little llama food.

   My rage today is about religion and anyone who uses that bullshit line "It was god's plan." in situations like this. You know, it might help them sleep at night, but I think its a damned stupid fucking thing to say!

   It's no secret I have no faith in this christian god many people believe in. I don't begrudge people who choose to live their lives believing in him. I grew up being told to believe in him and how he protects the innocent. Then he stopped protecting me and I raged at the injustice of it all.

   Just like I'm raging at the injustice that this "god" or any higher powered being for that matter, could allow such an evil act to befall on innocent children! What kind of being allows families to be destroyed forever like this!?! Who can really stand back, cluck their tongues and say it was all his plan? I believe in a lot of odd things (I kiss my hand and touch it to my car roof every time I drive through a yellow light) but to say it was planned to steal children from families, so many children from so many families, in one swift violent act....I don't buy it.

   I refuse to believe there was an intentional, predestined plan by a higher power that led to these kids death. No being is that cruel, right?

   I will be angry and puzzled by such disgusting acts of cruelty and hate for a while. And then I'll pick up the pieces of my life and carry on. Eventually, next week or next month, all I'll have of today's anger and rage will be this blog.
  And I'll be amongst the millions of Americans left unscathed by today's heartache.  

   But for some 20+ families, that will not be the case. Those families will have a heavy reminder of today for the rest of their lives. Those families lost a piece of their family today and no amount of raging will bring them back. Their lives will go on, but it will never be the same. One day every year will be sad. One birthday every year will go by and no one will age on that day. It's not right! Kids aren't supposed to be gunned down in their fucking schools! We send our kids to school to learn and grow and thrive! Not to fucking DIE! Never to die.

   Things like this happen worldwide and we never hear of it or we never go searching for the stories like this. It's too painful to bear, knowing that somewhere else in the world every day a parent loses their child forever. I'll bury my head in the goddamned sand every fucking day I wake up if it makes this  hole in my heart close up just a little. To think that 20 parents lost their child today is bad enough. To know that such a thing happens every day around the world. It's too much! It's too much pain to carry around.
  SO, yes, I know this isn't just a problem in America. I know these families are not the only ones touch by such violence, never to be whole again. But excuse me if I continue to ignore it out of concern for my own mental state. I'm fragile sometimes and children being murdered by anyone for any reason could break me!

    I love my child and it's because of him being in my life that I feel a pain deep in my soul for each and every person who lost a family member today. The deepest pain for those who lost a child, a child not much older than Nixon.