Not for nothing…this is just a bitch session…

So I am using this…my blog as a venting post now. Sorry. Turn back now if you want. I just think it might be my therapy for tonight. I usually write in a journal, but since I type much faster…this will have to do for now.

Where do I start?

It’s crazy. Kids, homework, making dinner, making sure that everyone has their homework done. Help study for spelling. Review a paragraph, and make him write it over, and over again till he gets spelling and grammer right. Writing it down on a ripped half sheet of blank paper just won’t cover it. And…just because I won’t tell you how to spell cafeteria and tell you to look it up doesn’t mean that I never help you out with homework. And, I had NO idea that the words “let’s review math” would start a war. Holy crap! So now, I’ve got one kid sitting in my pantery, one in the dining room throwing a fit, treating his pencils like drum sticks, one upstairs stomping his feet, slamming his door and one little girl in the family room that I am trying to keep awake, all the while trying to cook them dinner. What the fuck. All the while hearing in my head “so..when are you going to get a job?” Fuck off. I am doing my fucking job. Does it look like I am just standing around? Leave me the fuck alone. You do my job. You deal with all the laundry, cleaning, cooking, dealing with your 14 year old screaming “I hate you!!!” on a daily baisis, cleaning up after them, yet again…shopping, driving to school and back 4 times a day, speech twice a week, lunches, baths. Why is it that the mother, wife and stay at home mom gets the shaft? Huh? Why is it that we don’t even get a thought from others that we do have a job? This is our job. It’s not always smooth. That is what I work all day for…to make the next step smooth. Sometimes the day is redundant.

Next…my Aunt. So…with all the chemo that she had injected into her body just to slow down the cancer so she could make it to my nieces wedding in October didn’t work. The day before, she was brought to the hospital. Spent a week. It was a roller coaster ride. One point we didn’t even think that she was going to make it out of there. How freaking sad that she missed that wedding. She raised my neice. They moved up the wedding b/c of her so she can make it. It was so sad. I did talk with her on November 9th. She sounded really good. Better than the last time. She actually had strengeth in her voice, and happy. Her and Uncle Roger went to the mall the day before we talked. That was the first time my uncle had been through the whole mall. (He has owned his own little market for over 40 years, and had spent each and every day working there.) That was neat for her she had told me. The one of many firsts (she hopes) that she got to experience with him. You see, they had never got to spend days together. Date nights. Movies, dinners out. Even trips to the store. In fact, she took him to Wegman’s the other day. It was his first time there. He was amazed. It sounds like he is from another country or something. Nope, he was just a local merchant from Endicott NY.

Everything seemed fine when I talked with her. As fine as she can be. But, yesterday, I got a call from my cousin Cheryl that Aunt Joyce was taken to the hospital yet again because of a stroke she had suffered on Sunday. Thank God my cousin was with her while it was happening. Turns out that my Aunt has a brain aneurysm. Are you fucking kidding me? You’re  kidding….right? You mean to tell me that this poor woman who I love so much who is not only suffering from terminal renal lung cancer, that has now spread to her bones, has now invaded her lymph nodes, had a hard time breathing,  battling diabetes, congestive  heart failure, now has an aneurysm? Why is it everytime she gets back on her feet….she gets knocked down? It’s awful. It’s sad.

My mother. How nice it was to call me up the day after my birthday. Drunk. Shit faced. Duh Lorraine…this is why you stopped talking to her…dumbass!!!!! Enough of that.

I know when I wake up tomorrow, it will be better. I already do. The time between 3-7 is so hard. I wonder what it would be like to have a personal assistant.

Thanks for letting me vent.

-L