Complain, complain, complain.
OmegaMom is in One Of Those Moods.
I'm sure you know the kind of mood. Where nothing anyone does is right. Where you're just itching to Be Alone. Please. Where if somebody came up to you, smiling and happy and joyous, all you'd want to do is smack them.
Tell me it'll be better tomorrow.
"Tomorrow, tomorrow, I'll think about tomorrow, tomorrow is a braaaaand neeeew daaaaaay!"
Hah. That didn't help any. Now I want to smack the authors, lyricists, and songwriters of Annie.
On Sunday, my 102-year-old grandmother--bless her heart--told me my hair looked scraggly. She also asked if I was going grey (yes, Grandma, I've been going grey since I was 25, thankyewverramuch).
So, since her eyesight is going, that meant my hair really looked scraggly. And grey.
Then I saw the pics of me on OmegaGranny's blog. Sunken eyes, blotchy face, scraggly hair and all.
Bah.
So I got a much-needed haircut yesterday afternoon.
Alas, I got the dregs of SuperCuts. Oh, it's an okay haircut. In fact, OmegaDotter has been constantly saying, out of the blue, "I really like your haircut, Mommy!" (which is nice). But it's too short. (Yes, I know it will grow out.) There's an area on the left side of my bangs where it's supposed to segue gracefully into the remainder of the hair, but doesn't--it is chunked up an inch shorter in the next lock. And while she did a nice job outlining the ears, the rest just leaves me feeling cold.
I did the dotter's fingernails this evening. This always, in my imagination, is a nice mommy-daughter bonding moment. In reality, the dotter fidgets, wiggles, scratches, mashes her newly painted fingernails against the paper towels, the chair, her clothes, my clothes. And my rosy daydreams of gentle bonding go *poof*. Bah.
The floor around the coffee table, the coffee table itself, and the futon are all covered with scrids and scrads of paper, various crayons, some toys, and remnants of balloon animals. I want Someone Else to clean it up, because it's not my mess. Dammit.
Did I mention I'm in a Bad Mood? I'm in a Bad Mood.
Bitch, moan, gripe, groan, complain, complain, complain.
6 Comments:
-
At 9/28/2006 05:45:00 AM,
said… -
At 9/28/2006 07:22:00 AM,
said…ugh.. I am so with you. I left DH's dishes on the counter for 24 hours because I am so tired of cleaning up after everyone in the household. It's all I do, and the house still looks like shit.
and the kicker here: E's birthday, so my *parents* are coming today. We don't get along.They find fault with *everything* and are just constant pickers. DH and I dread their visits, and my friends can't wait to see what bizarreness will happen at the party because of them.
UGH. I may decide to join you in that mood.... If I find any chocolate today I'll eat some for you. -
At 9/28/2006 08:23:00 AM,
Julie Pippert said…My husband has written me off to PMS the last couple of days. Which pisses me off, but that's not the point. What he doesn't understand is that I feel and think this way a lot, but usually I don't have hormones overiding my impulse controls.
So I feel your pain, Omegamom.
I hope your bad mood improves.
Lizc, amen sistah. -
At 9/28/2006 08:56:00 AM,
said… -
At 9/28/2006 05:57:00 PM,
Miss Cellania said… -
At 9/28/2006 07:15:00 PM,
Kate said…Theresa--I have actually been having days where even the thought of not having the Dotter doesn't help.
Liz--Happy birthday, E.! I hope the parental units didn't/haven't driven you nuts. Send me some chocolate--dark chocolate, if you please! ;-)
Julie--I don't have the PMS excuse any more, but I do have menopause, which is an excellent excuse. And stuff in today's post, too.
Anonymous--I have been leaving the Dotter's room strictly alone. But I'm trying to propagandize her about her baby toys, as in "There are poor little children out there who don't have any toys at all! We need to go through yours together Real Soon Now, because you're a big girl and don't need all of them." Alas, she goes off on tangents about everything she wants to keep--none of which are earmarked by Mean Mommy for the Goodwill anyway.
Miss C.--Thanks!
"The floor around the coffee table, the coffee table itself, and the futon are all covered with scrids and scrads of paper, various crayons, some toys, and remnants of balloon animals. I want Someone Else to clean it up, because it's not my mess. Dammit."
Oh yeah-this is every day at our house;) And I was the one when we were house hunting during the wait who said I didn't need a separate family room because I wanted to use our living room every day. We also do not have an eat in kitchen-so the dining room looks about the same as the living room by the afternoon.
Still if I didn't have those crayons and scraps of paper on every surface it would be because we didn't have dd and oh how empty my life would be.
But I can relate since I can make a big mess myself it is tiring to keep cleaning up someone else's too.