Frustration...
Wednesday, December 20th, 2006 11:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
auntbijouI am in one of those moods tonight. I am cranky, I am grumpy, and just all around unpleasant. It is one of those times when I want to rip the Husbandly One's arm off and beat him over the head with it, when I want to banish the kids to military boarding schools, and when I want to flee to somewhere unknown, where I can just sit and BASK in the aloneness with no one pestering me, or demanding my attention or wanting me to do something RIGHT NOW! Where I can read a book and actually finish an entire paragraph in ONE SITTING. Where I don't have to be the Bad Guy. Because I am so very, very tired of being the Bad Guy, the Drill Sergeant, and Overall Lady of Doom.
I love the Husbandly One. I love him dearly. He is the best thing that ever happened to me, really, I do mean that. But there are times... and oh, boy, isn't today one of those times, when I sincerely think about tossing him back and re-baiting my hook. He loves our kids. He adores them. And he wants to be their pal. We cannot be their pals. We are their parents. And sometimes, parents have to be Bad Guys. We have to say No. No, you can't go to that party. No, you cannot have that toy. No, you cannot go outside naked. No, you are not allowed to have oranges because you are allergic to them and you will not only break out, you will vomit for the next twelve hours. And sometimes, we get to say Yes. Yes, you can have that bike. Yes, you may cover yourself in goo and pretend you're a newly born Orc. Yes, you may read for an extra hour. Yes, I do love you so very much.
What makes me so very grumpy and snarly is that I so very rarely get to be the person who says yes. I am the No person. And I absolutely hate that. Because he says yes all the time. Even when he says no, it sounds like yes, and the kids sense that. Kids are like animals; they can sense weakness and go for the kill! Ours know that they can wear Papa down. Me, they try, but it doesn't work. After a few minutes of begging and pleading, I usually look at them with a Hairy Eyeball and say, "Has this strategy ever worked before?"
"Um... no."
"And what makes you think it will work now?"
"Um... it was just to see if anything had changed."
"Nope. Not going to happen."
"Er...yeah. Didn't think so."
I used to be a fun person for kids to be around. Lately, not so much. And I resent that. A lot.
*sigh* I'm going to go outside and shoot some hoops. Sure, it's after 11, but the neighbors on that side have some real stinkers for kids, who are number one on my shit list right now (they've been scratching my car, on purpose, the little ... stinkers, and oh, yeah, I am restraining myself BIG TIME here), so I think they rather deserve to have their sleep disturbed by my banging a basketball on a concrete court and slamming it into the hoop a few times. If I'm feeling REALLY pissy, I'll deliberately miss so it hits the backboard with a nice loud BANG!
Yeah, I'm in a mood alright.
Beware of Bear.
I love the Husbandly One. I love him dearly. He is the best thing that ever happened to me, really, I do mean that. But there are times... and oh, boy, isn't today one of those times, when I sincerely think about tossing him back and re-baiting my hook. He loves our kids. He adores them. And he wants to be their pal. We cannot be their pals. We are their parents. And sometimes, parents have to be Bad Guys. We have to say No. No, you can't go to that party. No, you cannot have that toy. No, you cannot go outside naked. No, you are not allowed to have oranges because you are allergic to them and you will not only break out, you will vomit for the next twelve hours. And sometimes, we get to say Yes. Yes, you can have that bike. Yes, you may cover yourself in goo and pretend you're a newly born Orc. Yes, you may read for an extra hour. Yes, I do love you so very much.
What makes me so very grumpy and snarly is that I so very rarely get to be the person who says yes. I am the No person. And I absolutely hate that. Because he says yes all the time. Even when he says no, it sounds like yes, and the kids sense that. Kids are like animals; they can sense weakness and go for the kill! Ours know that they can wear Papa down. Me, they try, but it doesn't work. After a few minutes of begging and pleading, I usually look at them with a Hairy Eyeball and say, "Has this strategy ever worked before?"
"Um... no."
"And what makes you think it will work now?"
"Um... it was just to see if anything had changed."
"Nope. Not going to happen."
"Er...yeah. Didn't think so."
I used to be a fun person for kids to be around. Lately, not so much. And I resent that. A lot.
*sigh* I'm going to go outside and shoot some hoops. Sure, it's after 11, but the neighbors on that side have some real stinkers for kids, who are number one on my shit list right now (they've been scratching my car, on purpose, the little ... stinkers, and oh, yeah, I am restraining myself BIG TIME here), so I think they rather deserve to have their sleep disturbed by my banging a basketball on a concrete court and slamming it into the hoop a few times. If I'm feeling REALLY pissy, I'll deliberately miss so it hits the backboard with a nice loud BANG!
Yeah, I'm in a mood alright.
Beware of Bear.
