4UrWorld

My time to “BITCH”, !

This is going to be a long post, so if you don’t want to read it you better just LEAVE now!

Okay, so you don’t want to hear me complain.  Sure I hate getting freakin’ older.  Who doesn’t?  You think I like the fact that I can’t lose weight as easily as I used to.  I have to work hard at trying to stay fit.  I hate the word retirement, the next step is death.  The term “Golden Years” makes me want to puke!  “Life starts at 40″!  Who the hell came up with that saying?  Hell everything goes to pot after 40, you can’t read without bifocals or reading glasses, your kids leave home and your parents are aging. 

I worked hard at raising three kids and people don’t understand why I get emotional when they leave each time to go back to college, or continue their lives, not to give Mom another thought, until they need something.  They even do things just to “Spite” Mom.  What’s the deal?  The other day I told my kids to be careful in the pool, what they were doing was dangerous.  My daughter looked at me and said “More the reason to do it, because you don’t want me to”. 

I have been faithful to my husband, there for my kids, and I have been an obedient daughter.  I have done everything I could to please everyone in my life.  Just to hear words from them like “You complain too much”, “Just the more reason to do it, because you don’t want me to”, and “you need to get a job and quit feeling sorry for yourself”. 

You don’t think raising kids, putting up with a husband in his ”I’m not sure if I’m ready to settle down” years, and putting up with an old stubborn Dad who is never wrong, isn’t a job.  Plus I have worked, most of my adult life, I worked at a bank for over 18 years, ran a business for 5 years, and still kept up with being a wife, mother and daughter.  I was also a costume maker at Halloween, I created stage Props at my daughters dance recitals, I have been to every football, basketball, and baseball game (even coached) that my kids have been involved in.  I was a cheerleader Mom, but not like the obsessed ones, I encouraged my daughter but didn’t push her.  I made cookies for the class parties and was class mom a year or two.  I had to go and stand up to a freakin’ teacher when she told my son he was stupid.  “You don’t mess with my kid, woman”.  I have been the bookkeeper, the cook, the laundry woman, I don’t like to clean, but I have to sometimes.  I have been a peacemaker, a counselor to a sister (going through a divorce).  I have spent hours at the hospital when my Mom was ill.   

This morning my husband told me “I complain to much”.  I think all I said was “I have a headache”.  For his information it is a MIGRAINE, which he has never experienced.   

I have never been one of those wives who complain about my husband putting stuff off, like the floor tile for the kitchen, which he finally laid 2 1/2 years after the tile being bought.  I may have teased him.  I told him “it was Virgin Tile, it was never going to get laid”, but I never, not even once nagged at him about getting it done.  Hell I would have done it myself, but he would have found a reason to tell me I did it wrong.  So I put up with the nasty kitchen carpet until he finally got it done.  Believe you me; he is hell to be around when he is working on something like that.  He bitches and moans more than me. 

I am sorry to be so off the wall crazy with this blog post, but sometimes you can just take so much and you gotta “Speak Your Mind”.  Sometimes you even have to escape it all.  You wanna know a secret?  I keep a pair of shoes in my car.  I call them my “Run Away Shoes”.  When I am around the house I am usually barefoot, that is just how I am comfortable.  I want the security of knowing that if someone in my family pisses me off, instead of staying there and battling it out (they say I don’t know when to shut up) ((whatever !!)) I can leave for a while and cool off.  The shoes are in case I run out of gas or have a flat tire or something.  I consider them my emergency kit.

You know everyone I know complains about something.  My Dad complains about President Bush, do you hear me telling him he complains too much.  My Husband complains about his back hurting.  What do I do?  I usually rub it for him.  My Daughter complains about not having enough cloths or the perfect thing to wear.  OMG you should see her closet, so full of cloths.  My Son may complain because his cell phone doesn’t work sometimes, he thinks he needs to change carriers, shit all carriers have their problems, you can’t pick up service everywhere all the time. 

So if casually mentioning in conversation to my Husband that I had a headache, gets on his nerves.  Maybe I should put more than “Run Away Shoes” in my car.  Maybe I should have a whole “Run Away Bag” packed.  

 Sorry I am usually the nicest sweetest person you wanna meet, I really try my hardest to keep peace, but tell me I am complaining too much, you better run for them there hills buddy!!!

Okay enough with my ranting.  I will try to go back to that Wife, Mother, and Daughter everyone expects me to be.  Now where did I put my bottle of Xanax?

Sorry, I’m just having a BAD Day !