The stuff that little Texan zombie goddesses are made of, living where the brains are served warm and the sarcasm is served raw.

The Adventures Of Zuzu Zombie, Undead Detective

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

hero or sidekick (winter blues warning)

***It's been a rotten day so far, and it is only 9 a.m. I need to vent. Don't want to hear it, go away now.***

I try so hard to be the mom hero. Leap tall dish piles in a single bound. Cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, picking up/dropping off, laundry, working outside my home. *sigh* I am trying hard to just take things in stride. Not to allow anger to take over. No yelling. No screaming. Tempering my tongue. Certain times make this difficult. Difficult to the point that you just want to give up and say:

I guess I am reaping what I sow. Starting around the 5th grade, I began raising myself. Getting myself up. Feeding myself. Making sure I was where I needed to be when I needed to be there. Doing dishes, laundry, general cleaning. That is the reason why I do so much for my kids. I don't want them to have to do everything themselves. Unfortunately, this also means that they don't do *anything* for themselves. Or, when I tell them to do something, I get snotty answers...

Me: Do you have homework?
Them: Ummmm, yeah. I'll do it later.
Me: Do it now.
Them: *sigh* Fine!
Me (an hour later): Finish your homework?
Them: Haven't started yet.
Me: (scowling under my breath)

Me: Get everything together for tomorrow.
Them: Okay.
Me: (an hour later) Everything set to go?
Them: Nope. Haven't started.
Me: (cussing under breath)

Me: It is almost time for you to go.
Them: I know.
Me: (30 minutes before leave time) Have everything ready? Hair, teeth, etc?
Them: No. Haven't eaten yet.
Me: (15 minutes before leave time) Okay, ready?
Them: Don't have socks/brush teeth/finding homework
Me: (walking out before under breath comment becomes outburst) Get a move on please.
Them: FINE!
Me: (3 minutes before bus/ride arrives) Get ready to walk out.
Them: Geez, I have time!!!
Me: (as I watch bus pass by or ride arrive) .......
Them: Oh no, my bus/my ride. Where is my stuff?? Why didn't you tell me??
Me: (fantasizing about eating children for dinner)

Add to that the fact no one will do dishes, do laundry, even pick up something off the floor (instead choosing to walk over it). Even if I ask, beg, scream about it, in the end, I am the one who has to do it all. I know, it's my fault, so don't get all commenty on me. I am just fed up. I'm tired. I just want to sit back and not give a shit anymore. I want to treat them and the house they way they treat me and the house. Like it is garbage.

I love them so much. I would die for them.

I'm sure they love me.

But there are days, like these, I just want to stay in bed and not move. I'm not stupid. I am just trying to do the best for everyone. But why bother?

I used to feel like this:

Now I just feel like an old ugly sidekick in my own life.


Peace, Love and (do it yourself from now on) Zombies \IiiI


Debbie said...



Shelly said...


I get a lot of the same from my kids :( UGH! Especially when it is my weekend and I text them when I am coming to get them they still aren't ready or even started when I end up being 15 or 30 minutes late!

I just want to say, well see ya next time! GRRR!

Anonymous said...

I feel your pain. I can't get mine to do squat. They're as lazy as the man. Heathens.

Cogent Ascending said...

this is why god made me a gay
if i had kids i'd probably be the sort of parent who breaks their spirit young and rules with absolute fear

bingsy said...

I'm sure it's typical of most people, though frustrating. You're their hero, and they know it. Though I'll be honest. I love sidekicks, and would so much rather be the Rhoda than the Mary.