I forgot what it is like to care for an infant. My grandaughter is the love of my life, but she is wearing my 42 year old ass out. She's four months old and a really good baby, just very needy. Loves to be held all the time. So I hold her as much as humanly possible.
Eventually, a bitch needs to pee, ya know?
So I put her down and she screams like her ass is on fire! It disturbs my normally pleasant peeing routine and I find myself pushing it out faster than it is willing to come. I can barely wash my hands before she is howling like a banshee.
I am really trying to help my daughter and son in law out. They can't afford childcare right now so grandma stepped in. Eventually, I am going to need to go back to work for both financial and psychological reasons.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
A bit of luck...
I had to go up to Tallahasee to face the nursing board about the status of my license. Yes, I got into a bit of trouble and had to go up there so they can let me know what my punishment would be.
On the way, my husband got pulled over for doing 45 in a 30 zone. Mind you, this was a podunk little town where the police just LOVE to pull people over. It was nearly midnight and we were both exhausted from the four hour drive we were making. The cop walks up to the window and asks my husband if he knew what he was being pulled over for.
"I was speeding," he replied.
"Yes," said the officer. "I clocked you at 48 in a 30 zone. Let me have your license and registration."
*sighs*
"Where are you off to in such a rush," he asks.
I lean over and say that I was on my way to Tallahassee for a nursing board meeting. Well, wouldn't you know it, the cop says that his wife was a nurse too and recently had to go before the board too for a charge of grand larceny! I was thrilled to know that she got off with very little punitive damange to her license. He told us that my being a nurse has saved us from getting a ticket.
He ran my husbands license and then, let us go with a warning.
Guess it pays to get into trouble sometimes.
On the way, my husband got pulled over for doing 45 in a 30 zone. Mind you, this was a podunk little town where the police just LOVE to pull people over. It was nearly midnight and we were both exhausted from the four hour drive we were making. The cop walks up to the window and asks my husband if he knew what he was being pulled over for.
"I was speeding," he replied.
"Yes," said the officer. "I clocked you at 48 in a 30 zone. Let me have your license and registration."
*sighs*
"Where are you off to in such a rush," he asks.
I lean over and say that I was on my way to Tallahassee for a nursing board meeting. Well, wouldn't you know it, the cop says that his wife was a nurse too and recently had to go before the board too for a charge of grand larceny! I was thrilled to know that she got off with very little punitive damange to her license. He told us that my being a nurse has saved us from getting a ticket.
He ran my husbands license and then, let us go with a warning.
Guess it pays to get into trouble sometimes.
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Homicidal...for real.
I send my son to a private school. Want him to get the best possible education and Florida schools, the public variety, are not exactly high standard in the country. We, my ex husband and the hotband pay nearly $1000 a month to make sure that Nick is well educated. This school is a mortgage payment. He has been going there since pre K.
Every so often the school does something ridiculous, like not call me if my son is sick or injured. What they are infamous for is forgetting to give him his lunch after it has been paid for for the month. Lunch is not cheap. It is $100 a month...in addition to the tuition.
Yesterday, I get a call from my ex saying that once again, Nick wasn't given his lunch because nothing was paid for. Mind you, my husband went up to the school and personally handed the check to his teacher, Mrs. Lees. (uberbitch). She said "Oh, you don't need to walk it to the office. I am going there anyway. I'll take it there for you." So, hotband hands her the check and all should be good for the month of February. When the ex calls, he tells me that not only was there no lunch for my son, but when he asked about it, the uberbitch tells him "That's not my problem."
Not. Your. Problem?
'scuse me?
Now, normally, when the school fucks up, I leave it to my ex or to my husband to handle it. I am not exactly tactful and would tell them what I truly think of their bullshit. It would come flying out of my mouth and I would definately get my son kicked out of school. Don't want that...so I stay out of it.
Yesterday was the last straw for me. When my ex told me she said it wasn't her problem, I started to bleed out of my fucking eyes. I literally lost my mind. I asked my ex if he handled it. He said "Nope. I am releasing the big dogs on them this time. YOU call them and handle it."
"You dont want me to do that," I say.
"Yes I do. These people need to be put in their place once and for all and you are the one to do that."
"Okay," I say...but don't blame me if I get him kicked out of school."
I call Mrs. Lees. I tell her that I am not exactly thrilled that my son went without his lunch today, especially since she took his lunch payment directly. I told her that I don't appreciate her telling my son that it was not her problem. She says, "I never said that."
"You know what? For years, I have listened to you people say that you haven't said things to my son that I know DAMN well were said to him. You are calling my son a liar for the last fucking time."
"There's no need to get so upset, Mrs. CP."
"No reason to get upset? I pay a friggin' mortgage payment to keep him in this school! And somewhere between your sweaty little palm and walking your ass over to the office, his lunch money disappeared. This isn't the first damn time this has happened and I am sick and tired of my son going without his lunch. You people dont even have the decency to CALL me and tell me that he isn't getting lunch. Even if it wasn't paid for, I would have run some food up to him. How DARE you let a child go a full day without eating...especially when his meals were paid for last week!"
I swear that I was going to have an anurysm. I felt a vein about to burst in my skull.
"And then," I continue "you tell this little boy that its not your problem that he didn't get his lunch? Oh no, sister. It definately IS your problem."
"I never said that to him."
"You know what, Mrs. Lees? I know you did. It's the type of thing I have heard you say to other students. I always chalked it up to my son exaggerating what really happened, but you know what? I believe him. I don't believe you. I don't trust you. I think you suffer from burnout and you take it out on the kids. My son is telling me the truth. I know he is because I know the kind of person you are."
"Well," she stammers, "I will check on what happened with the lunch money and get back to you."
"No. Don't get back to me. The lunches were paid for. YOU lost the money. YOU make sure my son eats this entire month or the will be hell to pay, I assure you."
"Okay, Mrs. CP. Thank you."
And the bitch hangs up the phone.
I call my husband to calm me down. I only live three blocks from the school and I have very easy access to this bitch's throat. I take a xanax or three. I try deep breathing. My phone beeps. Call waiting. It's the school. I opt not to take the call and let them leave a message. I figure this is the safest thing for everyone involved. The hotband calms me down and I can see again.
I call my son. I tell him that if Mrs. Lees says ANYTHING to him about our conversation at all, he is to say, "I don't know anything about it. It's not my problem. Call my mother."
Now, I know this is very disrespectful but I felt the time has come, after 11 years to trust my son that this was actually said to him. I wanted him to feel like his parents were on his side and empower him a little. I told him not to be nasty, but to be very nonchalent...or matter of fact. He giggled and thanked me for trusting him and believing him.
For me, this was the best moment to come out of the whole situation. My son knows I trust him to be honest with me and that is a gift.
So, despite my wanting to part this womans hair with an axe, I ended up bonding with my son. I would call her up and thank her for this, but it's really not her problem.
Every so often the school does something ridiculous, like not call me if my son is sick or injured. What they are infamous for is forgetting to give him his lunch after it has been paid for for the month. Lunch is not cheap. It is $100 a month...in addition to the tuition.
Yesterday, I get a call from my ex saying that once again, Nick wasn't given his lunch because nothing was paid for. Mind you, my husband went up to the school and personally handed the check to his teacher, Mrs. Lees. (uberbitch). She said "Oh, you don't need to walk it to the office. I am going there anyway. I'll take it there for you." So, hotband hands her the check and all should be good for the month of February. When the ex calls, he tells me that not only was there no lunch for my son, but when he asked about it, the uberbitch tells him "That's not my problem."
Not. Your. Problem?
'scuse me?
Now, normally, when the school fucks up, I leave it to my ex or to my husband to handle it. I am not exactly tactful and would tell them what I truly think of their bullshit. It would come flying out of my mouth and I would definately get my son kicked out of school. Don't want that...so I stay out of it.
Yesterday was the last straw for me. When my ex told me she said it wasn't her problem, I started to bleed out of my fucking eyes. I literally lost my mind. I asked my ex if he handled it. He said "Nope. I am releasing the big dogs on them this time. YOU call them and handle it."
"You dont want me to do that," I say.
"Yes I do. These people need to be put in their place once and for all and you are the one to do that."
"Okay," I say...but don't blame me if I get him kicked out of school."
I call Mrs. Lees. I tell her that I am not exactly thrilled that my son went without his lunch today, especially since she took his lunch payment directly. I told her that I don't appreciate her telling my son that it was not her problem. She says, "I never said that."
"You know what? For years, I have listened to you people say that you haven't said things to my son that I know DAMN well were said to him. You are calling my son a liar for the last fucking time."
"There's no need to get so upset, Mrs. CP."
"No reason to get upset? I pay a friggin' mortgage payment to keep him in this school! And somewhere between your sweaty little palm and walking your ass over to the office, his lunch money disappeared. This isn't the first damn time this has happened and I am sick and tired of my son going without his lunch. You people dont even have the decency to CALL me and tell me that he isn't getting lunch. Even if it wasn't paid for, I would have run some food up to him. How DARE you let a child go a full day without eating...especially when his meals were paid for last week!"
I swear that I was going to have an anurysm. I felt a vein about to burst in my skull.
"And then," I continue "you tell this little boy that its not your problem that he didn't get his lunch? Oh no, sister. It definately IS your problem."
"I never said that to him."
"You know what, Mrs. Lees? I know you did. It's the type of thing I have heard you say to other students. I always chalked it up to my son exaggerating what really happened, but you know what? I believe him. I don't believe you. I don't trust you. I think you suffer from burnout and you take it out on the kids. My son is telling me the truth. I know he is because I know the kind of person you are."
"Well," she stammers, "I will check on what happened with the lunch money and get back to you."
"No. Don't get back to me. The lunches were paid for. YOU lost the money. YOU make sure my son eats this entire month or the will be hell to pay, I assure you."
"Okay, Mrs. CP. Thank you."
And the bitch hangs up the phone.
I call my husband to calm me down. I only live three blocks from the school and I have very easy access to this bitch's throat. I take a xanax or three. I try deep breathing. My phone beeps. Call waiting. It's the school. I opt not to take the call and let them leave a message. I figure this is the safest thing for everyone involved. The hotband calms me down and I can see again.
I call my son. I tell him that if Mrs. Lees says ANYTHING to him about our conversation at all, he is to say, "I don't know anything about it. It's not my problem. Call my mother."
Now, I know this is very disrespectful but I felt the time has come, after 11 years to trust my son that this was actually said to him. I wanted him to feel like his parents were on his side and empower him a little. I told him not to be nasty, but to be very nonchalent...or matter of fact. He giggled and thanked me for trusting him and believing him.
For me, this was the best moment to come out of the whole situation. My son knows I trust him to be honest with me and that is a gift.
So, despite my wanting to part this womans hair with an axe, I ended up bonding with my son. I would call her up and thank her for this, but it's really not her problem.
Sunday, February 01, 2009
CP vs. Nyquil
My husband had a nasty cold. More like the flu. He took two Nyquil and went to bed around 1am. Two hours later, I am still awake and get this mad ass desire to give him a blow job. There was a bit of a challenge to it. Could I possibly wake him from his medically induced coma for a little while or would it take effort on my behalf?
As though the sex Gods were leaning in my favor, my husband rolled onto his back, almost daring me to attempt what could end up being a futile endeavor. I managed to slither his pajama pants down his legs without disturbing him. I noticed signs of life so I proceded with my patented vacuum technique.
It was like blowing a corpse which I found to be somewhat of a turn on.
Until he snored.
Not to be deterred, I continued in this manner for a good ten minutes. No moan. No groan. No signs of life other than a fully cooperative penis. I was not having this. I was not going to lose to a bottle of Nyquil. Now it became personal.
All of a sudden, my husband jerked foward, had an orgasm and went right back to sleep. No pat on the head. No "job well done, babe". Nothing.
Not the big climatic finish I was going for...but a victory for me nevertheless.
As though the sex Gods were leaning in my favor, my husband rolled onto his back, almost daring me to attempt what could end up being a futile endeavor. I managed to slither his pajama pants down his legs without disturbing him. I noticed signs of life so I proceded with my patented vacuum technique.
It was like blowing a corpse which I found to be somewhat of a turn on.
Until he snored.
Not to be deterred, I continued in this manner for a good ten minutes. No moan. No groan. No signs of life other than a fully cooperative penis. I was not having this. I was not going to lose to a bottle of Nyquil. Now it became personal.
All of a sudden, my husband jerked foward, had an orgasm and went right back to sleep. No pat on the head. No "job well done, babe". Nothing.
Not the big climatic finish I was going for...but a victory for me nevertheless.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
