There’s A New Sheriff In Town

I’m not sure if it’s the fact that we’re on day “I’m gonna lose my shit” of snow days here or if it’s the actual 14 inches of snow itself that is making me numb and unable to parent, but the inmates are running the asylum over here.

The other night, in an act of pure desperation, the Hubs loudly proclaimed, “There’s a new sheriff in town!!” in total and complete seriousness and started doling out chores like Cinderella’s evil stepmother.  I knew better than to laugh out loud, but I did mutter “did you really just say that?” and, unfortunately, was overheard … and then given my list of chores.

Apparently my “sheriffing” has been pretty horrendous lately.  (I walk around all day broadcasting in a threatening tone, “I’m on the VERGE, people!!!” and then go hide under my covers)  I admit it.  I feel a total loss of control over here.  I’ve lost all sense of day and time anymore.  The Hubs asked last night if the current day was Thursday and I looked at him blankly and said I had no idea.

We’re in Groundhog Day territory over here and, while I loved that movie, it’s a real bitch living it.  I, on a good day, tend to have an “oh fuck it” attitude anyway.  Yolo and all that other crap.  And being cooped up for days on end makes me even more so.

The Hubs?  Thank god for him.  He’s the disciplined one.  While I’m creative and messy and lazy, he’s driven and in control.  This place would run like a well oiled machine if it wasn’t for my laissez faire attitude which I know makes him have to hide his gritted his teeth and deep sighs.

I like to think I bring the spontaneity to our relationship and he brings the structure.  I’m not sure HE sees it that way, but what can he do, he’s stuck with me.

(I sent this to him the other day and he “LOL’d” it … I’m not sure what that says about us, but I love the fact that he finds me funny)

Did this turn into a Valentine’s Day post?  IS today Valentine’s day?

Well, what the hell … might as well take advantage of this public forum to announce my undying love.  Actually, it’s more like my undying appreciation.  It ain’t easy being married to me.

Honey, thanks for putting up with my various television show neuroses (the good, the bad and the ugly), taking my glasses off when I fall asleep, calmly taking the kids to the Y when you can see I’m on the verge of a nervous breakdown, putting up with the toothpaste remnants I leave in the sink, sweetly tolerating my completely random dramatic outbursts that almost always contain the phrases “everyone hates me” or “I’m a terrible writer!”, accepting that our bedroom will never EVER be straightened up, my piles and piles and PILES of books, my top 40 tween music obsessions, and my terrible eating habits.

To my husband … the square to my circle.  I love you.

(This was on my mirror this morning … he’s gonna kill me for this.)

How I Learned That Sobbing On The Bed Is Perfectly Acceptable

I was cleaning out my kids’ rooms the other day (it’s amazing what depths you’ll go to when the kids have only had school for 15 minutes during the entire month of January … and cleaning is pretty much the depths of hell for me … that and being forced to watch Bob Costas with an eye infection) and I ran across one of the great literary classics of our time.  I couldn’t believe I had forgotten about it!  When the kids were little, I would read it to them night after night, doing all the voices theatrically (and frantically), in the hopes of scaring the shit out of them getting the deep, important message of the story across to them.  Their small little impressionable now freshly scarred brains on high alert … wondering what all the desperation in Mommy’s voice was about.  (spoiler alert: nothing I have ever done when it comes to parenting has ever worked – I hope you’re not reading this for advice – my posts are always usually cautionary tales … or should the ‘usually’ be crossed out?)

Yes, you figured it out!!!  I knew I liked you for a reason 😉

The Berenstain Bears and Too Much Pressure!!!!!

If you haven’t read this genius, why are you still here?? You should be at the bookstore buying it.  And reading it to your kids – despite my spoiler alert.  (I don’t know, maybe your kids are smarter than mine?  Or more than likely, you’re a better parent.  But I digress …)

My favorite part of the whole book, all 32 pages of it, is when, after running around like a crazed lunatic all day (check!), Mama goes to start the car (check!) and it won’t start (check!).  She proceeds to … wait for it … run to her bedroom and sob uncontrollably on the bed while Papa and the cubs stare at her in horror (check! check!).

Fucking genius.

After reading this book the first time, I immediately put Stan and Jan Berenstain as number 2 on my list of all time favorite people.  Number one, of course, being the guy who owns and operates our liquor store.  Well, he’s tied with the Dalai Lama.  And Oprah.

I love that, with all these sacchariny, soapy kids books out there, they went for it.  I think it was crazy brave of those Bear people!  I know I have (sadly) found hours of comfort reading this book alone, huddled in the closet … no, no, of course I’m not still doing the voices … ok, maybe just Papa Bear’s.

I was hoping I could tell you that this book was published in 1962 or something, a groundbreaking whatever whatever, but alas, it was 1992.  And I know for damn sure moms were crying on the bed WELL before 1992.  Oh well, I still appreciate it.

I don’t know about you, but with all these snow days piling up and just a little too much “bonding with the kids”, I’ve been looking more like this bear …

It’s time I get back to sobbing on the bed.  Because what happens after … Papa Bear and the kids all rally around Mama and make things easier for her … will most DEFINITELY happen here at my house.

NEVER.