May 20, 2012

Ridiculous shit


I swear to you people, I do not make any of this shit up.  I keep waiting for the day that there is just nothing to say.  The day does not come.  Again I must rant about shit.  Literal shit.  It seems no matter how diligently I declare myself the Director of Awesomeness, the gods insist on reminding me that I am indeed their shit magnet.

We were all in the backyard yesterday.  Swimming, playing, and enjoying the afternoon.  Suddenly middle darling is standing before me, with his pants around his ankles.  I thought maybe he was peeing by a tree.  He looks me squarely in the eyes and says, “My pants fell down and poo slipped out of my butt.”  Come again, you strange creature?  I repeat it back to him, because surely I’ve heard it wrong.  My five year old did not just say to me that his pants ‘fell down’ and ‘poo slipped out of his butt.’  The terrified look on his face told me that he already knew he’d made a terrible decision.  There is a bathroom 20 steps away. 

I stood there for a moment, trying to collect myself.  My first thought, thanks to the Diary, was ‘blog fodder’.  I approached the tree and there it was, already covered in flies.  My God, what kind of animals am I raising?  Who does this?  What kind of people shit in yards?  I have a flash back to my own childhood, when my dad once caught a neighbor girl pooping by one of our trees.  This makes me feel slightly better.  Other kids have done this. 

I may die if I get near this pile of human waste, so his punishment is that he has to pick up the pile of vileness.  It has leaves on it, and the heat has multiplied the smell exponentially.  He performs the task with his usual brand of serious drama, making a smeary mess and causing my blood to boil and my stomach to retch.  I told him he was punished, because people do not shit in yards, but mostly because he has lied to me.  God, please don’t let him have the liar gene too.  I softened up a bit.  Maybe he is not an animal.  I hugged him and apologized for the bat shit crazy screaming, which was probably too mean. 

Unfortunately, I forgot about the punishment of not swimming today, because I was hung over and needed the pool to keep them occupied.  I had a fun night with the muthas last night.  A cute waiter over-served me some sneaky margaritas.  I was cocky and didn’t perform the proper ceremonial rituals in order to avoid a hangover.  I definitely drank too much because the latter part of the night is somewhat sketchy, but I definitely remember calling a certain ‘big daddy’ a pussy, repeatedly. 

I’ve been trying to think of a name for the husbands of the muthas.  I think I’m stealing ‘big daddies’ as the new name for the husbands.  The muthas are blessed with these men, and I love them just like the muthas.  The big daddies love me because I tell their wives to give them blow jobs and sleep with them, because that is what I miss about having a husband.  (Ok, maybe not the blowjob part.)  I know husbands can be assholes.  Men are a strange lot.   I still can’t figure them out, and I’m pretty smart.  But I demand that you all love each other for me.  I can’t stop preaching it.

Many people have emailed and commented in the last few days saying, “Please don’t quit writing.”  I did reveal the other day that I resist the urge to take the blog down every day.  I waffle because I know I’m pushing the envelope.  I read what I’ve written through the eyes of another person, and I feel so exposed.  I’m impulsive and raw and real and people love it, but I’m also exposing so much of myself.  Even I am not always comfortable with it.  I get notes everyday from people saying the most beautiful things to me.  I’m starting to realize that besides being wildly therapeutic for me, and amusing and healing and interesting for other people, there is another element as well.  People root for me, they egg me on, and they encourage me.  It’s awesome and I don’t think I’ve ever experienced that before, to be honest.  Suddenly, I’m not all alone, with the darlings, trying to find my way out of the darkness.  People from across the globe are holding their hands out to me.  It’s incredibly humbling and comforting that people care about us.  So now I can’t quit.  Because I need you all.

14 comments:

  1. Ben pooped in the yard by a tree when he was five; he and your middle darling are a lot alike! It is extremely challenging, but I belive it will be great when they are grown. The way you describe your emotions and reactions with him is exactly how I am too; I feel so mean sometimes. We are human though, and we make up for it with lots of love. Hope today is better for ya girlfriend; and yes, keep writing; you must! Love you!

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  2. OMG! First of all yay for not quitting! Second of all JUDY, I have a Ben that shit in the yard as well!!! And third, MAD WOMAN, you have inspired me to write about that poop on the lawn incident so many years ago. I haven't felt like writing in some time. Life has just been too overwhelming lately. But tonight after little league I will write and get back in the game. THANK YOU!
    -Val

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  3. Wow! That kinda sums it up. I found your blog last week but it me a few days to finish. I was emotionally exhausted just reading it. I am in awe of your honesty, your strength and your writing skills. I sure hope you write that book, I'd love to read it. I'm going to try harder. I'm going to be a better mother and wife (even if he is an asshole sometimes). I may even give in sometimes, even though I'm right! Thank you. And I am standing on the sidelines, cheering for all 4 of you. Please don't stop writing, I'll be waiting for your happy ending.

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    1. The thing that I wish I could 'do over' is not so much 'let him be right'...because he was clearly wrong in so many ways. I wish I would have 'fought him' more lovingly. Wish I would have treated him more tenderly. Wish i would have realized he was hurting, sick...and not just an asshole. And thank YOU. Thank you for saying this to me.

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  4. My 3.5 yr old shit in the yard recently. And i too screamed and was all "what the hell are you doing?" But then I realized I was playing words with friends while said child was pooping in the yard. And I did what most partially sane mothers do, continued playing my game!!!
    You are awesome. Love your writing!!! We would totally be friends IRL (in real life)!

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  5. Reading your blog has helped me so much. It's crazy. Several years ago I was depressed and had a plenty thoughts of suicide. The first time it happened i was in 5th grade, but I lived on because I thought high school would be some magical place. I could suffer through a few years. And if it wasn't, I wanted to adopt. If I was dead, how would I help those children? I made it through then, but then things got worse at the beginning of high school. I felt like I had only 1 friend in the world, and then my mother reminding me that she loved me every day. I wonder if she realizes that she saved my life. I knew I couldn't do IT because of her. Things have been getting better for me. After reading your blog (every post) I realize there is no way I could ever do IT. The very few bad thoughts of that stuff that were still left in me have gone. It's a great feeling. So thank you. Thank you for writing this. Thank you for letting us read what this type of stuff does to people. Thank you. And please, never stop writing

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    1. Oh my dear person...I don't even know what to say to these precious words. It's not very often that I'm at a loss for words. But this affects me deeply. You must promise me to always, ALWAYS ALWAYS remember that incredibly sad feelings are only temporary. And if they are not temporary, if you can't kick yourself in the ass and move forward, then you need some help by way of antidepressants. You already possess the gift of spin...even if you don't realize it. Because you've thought of 'reasons' why doing IT is not a good idea. Keep spinning it. Never stop. Find the good in every pile of shit...because it is there, somewhere. Believe it and it's yours. Peace and love...the Madwoman

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  6. I LOVE THIS. Clearly you and I have very different stories. However... looking at your life as "blog fodder" really does help you find the funny in the horrible, doesn't it? It's changed the way I view everything....don't know if that's better or worse .. it just IS.
    And I totally understand the "i need you" part. Who knew that external validation from complete strangers could make you feel so...... normal? validated? accepted?
    You know I'm not a blog reader.... I had no idea what starting a blog would turn into.. But it has made me better. And it's making you better.
    Kudos.

    (and also.. kiss my ass cuz now that you are Number One you don't even VISIT HMM anymore. Fucktard) ;)

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    1. OMG HMM, you butt ass liar! LOL. I still stalk you and the klonopin chronicles everyday!

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    2. well that's good. I was getting super insecure and angry. I was about to dance to Florence and curse your name.

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  7. My 8 year-old pooped off the back patio when he was about 4 or 5. Was so proud he ran inside to tell me. It was just so gross, but so funny...we took a picture. Yeah, I'm weird like that, but when he brings home his first girlfriend.....

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  8. Wow! You touch me emotionally in a way I attempt to express for others (if or when anyone or someone other than myself)so that they "feel" me when I write. I have a four and a half yr old "lil darling" boy (love the way you call them that) A lil more than a year ago he shit in the middle of my friends kitchen floor...My "give-a-fuck" was broken at the time due to life's unexpected twists. I had a drug dealer boyfriend at the time who went to jail one year ago tomorrow....He handled the "shit" in the kitchen floor and did a time out or "reasoning talk" or something that made my child "understand" the depth of his wrongness. I was there so I know he did not abuse my child, but thank God that day he was there...I may have just fuckin snapped like a wet twig...I rarely spank but a time or two I have actually pulled his pants down to "tan his hyde" and as he tried to move away I missed his behind and hit the small of his back--and I know THAT got his attention..but then I am so immediately sorry cause I didn't mean to do just that...then he tells me it feels like it is bleeding...It is not..It is stinging and I am so sorry but you can't just do "whatever" YOU want "whenever" you feel like it. You know the difference between right and wrong boy...But you are an incredible woman. I "feel" your pain, your laughter, your anger, your "fuck-it", your "no socks in summer", your sadness, your humility, your reality, I feel it all so powerfully when I read your entries, and I have only read a few since yesterday....Stay strong, Keep your Faith in God, Hold on, and Keep writing...I LOVE IT and it helps me to filter my own emotions..THANK YOU! God Bless You "Goddess of Everything" and "The Little Darlings"

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  9. You literally have me in TEARS! My son did this last year... at 5. Not cool. But he said he didn't want to stop playing!

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  10. I left my 13 month old alone for 2 seconds today to pee and he blew diarrhea half way across his bedroom floor. Boys are apeshit!!

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