Shoot me NOW! Don't wait until I die of something else...

I am a bad and horrible human being. I will tell you up front, with all the males in my family, there is no one named Will. I have no Will. I have no “Will” power. Tell me again, why, of all the times in my lifetime, did I decide to quit smoking on December 1st this year? As soon as I heard #3 was heading back to Massachusetts to celebrate Christmas, I should have rethought the whole thing. But wait, as usual, I am jumping ahead of myself with this story.


I have had the MOST amazing two days on Friday and Saturday. Let’s start with Friday. I worked only a half of day and had a date in the afternoon. #8, the baby, which you will learn a little more about by Friday, asked me to spend the afternoon with him shopping. We had a blast. We farted in some of the best stores. We told the sales people that our gorgeous dispositions and festive banter was all because of their amazing abilities to get us some great deals. We were in “the plural of lowest of the US currency”, and a young, very nice looking, salesgirl, followed us around for three departments asking us if we needed assistance. #8 thought she was cute, but I knew she was hot for me. It was my sagging boobs and flabber belly that made her like me. You know, with #8 it is all about him, this time he agreed it was all about ME. After the amazing service we got from her, the $18 dollar sweater I was buying our mom ended up being $11. SCORE! I saved myself 7 dollars. I told the salesgirl that I would jump the counter and hug her for the sale, but #8 told her she would have to wait in line, because the young girl wanted me more. We then went to the next “store there is a tower named after”, having saved myself $7 on the sweater, I found the cutest pair of underpants for my 16 year old son. Regular price $12, sale 25% off. I figured nbd, it was as good as free from the other savings. Get to the register and it rang up $2.49. NFW! This one got the biggest WHOOT I could come up with and then #8 made a good scene telling everyone they should rub my buttocks for good luck. It was really a great time.

I came home to the honey and the older two, ready to go on a campout and excitement all around. SEE YA! I love the campouts. This is my time to organize my house and spend quality time with my youngest. I had a plan for the weekend and Mother Nature had another. No Biggie! I am known for the fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants mentality. My afternoon plans became my morning plans, my afternoon plans were rearranged slightly, but still doable. And it was all okay. You see, I have this friend that I have mentioned a few times in my blog. She and I lost touch for a period of 20 years. It seriously does not seem like it has been that long. The only differences are, she has a husband and so do I, she has three boys and so do I, she has a daughter, well that I don’t. We are not in our teens anymore but we picked up right where we left off. She was going to be my afternoon plans but ended up my morning plans. Together we baked cookies with our two babies. We giggled and gossiped. We had a blast. Then I went to see BUGS! I joke you not. Butter had a pack meeting and they touched bugs and reptiles and snakes and yuck! The whole time I was in the pack meeting sitting with all of my bestest friends in the whole wide world (really need that sarcasm font ~sometime I will post how I figured out this weekend I am an f-n snob), I was texting my friend, who was on her way to the “bigcity” to pick up her son from college.

Okay, here is where it all goes awry. #1SIL calls as I walk in the door. “Are you home? I want to stop by and drop off the boys Christmas presents.” Okay, I am utterly confused. “Now? Is there something wrong with Christmas Day?” She starts to cry. Seriously, I hate women crying…I would rather have someone scrape their fingernails down a chalk board. It is not something I deal well with. Well, that is not true…a good friend in need, face to face so I can hug, I can deal with. Personally, it takes a SHITLOAD of crap to fall on me for me to cry. Maybe that is why I can’t handle the stress of another one. Immediately, I think, she is dying, someone else died, she is leaving my brother, there has been some sort of dire emergency that is pulling her away from Christmas day with the family.

NOPE! F-N #2 SIL called and told her that HER(#1) giving of the gifts at Christmas causes the kids to be unruly and spoiled. WTF BiaTch! Your kids are the way they are because you can’t won’t take control. You are more apt to be concerned as to whether or not you have had your umpteenth drink then whether or not your oldest is flushing one of the younger kids down the toilet. Why spoil someone else’s day? The nerve. #1 SIL spends from Easter to Christmas shopping for the kids. She never spends more than $3 on a gift and picks them up throughout the year because she thinks of that child when she sees things. She usually has 5 or 6 gifts in a gift bag and they all mean so much to her. But that is not at all what made me freak. #2 wanted #1 to drive all over freaking creation to drop off everyone’s presents. She wanted to change the way we do things. She wanted to change Christmas...okay anyone seeing a trend here? Bastards want to change the way things are. I have tried so hard over the last few years to be more like mice and less like the little people. I don’t want to be hem and haw, I want to be a sniff and scurry. But, the question comes up more and more in my mind…this has all started since Daddy died, what will happen when Mom does? Is that it? Is the family destined to be strangers? Are we all going to be doing things alone for the rest of our lives? Are my kids going to be like #3’s kids and not know who their cousins are? This is not the first change this year. First #5 decides that he wants a Christmas get together two weekends before Christmas, then #3 decides that he is coming up to show his son what a real family Christmas is all about, then #6 calls and wants to change Christmas day to Saturday, and now this.

The snow storm that we got on the East Coast caused my boys to come home Saturday night instead of Sunday. They arrived home at 11:30pm. Today, I screamed at Jelly and made him cry. I yelled at Peanut and made him cry. I hollered at Butter and made him cry. I called my husband a “lazy ass that is no help to me at all unless it is to keep the couch warm” among a few other REALLY bad things that were not even close to true. I went to the store and bought a pack of cigarettes. I smoked. I smoked two cigarettes today. I want to throw the pack away but I don’t know Will. He is not close to me. My family is. I cannot be the nasty “C” word I was today to my boys. I love them so much and they do so much to make me proud. I cannot be that mother, who out of stress and frustration of my siblings, screams and yells at them for something they have no control over. I can be the nicotine addicted person who sneaks out to have a butt just not to chew off theirs.