Name:
Location: Palm Beach County, Florida, United States

Recently have been told I look like Mary Ann from Gilligan's Island. I hadn't heard that in years, but that is a good place to start as to what I look like, although she had a better bod. I have three boys and have been married for 13 years. Born of a Navy family, in Hawaii, one Mom, one Dad, one sister and one brother. The eldest of three children. BS in Applied Mathematics. Consider Pensacola my home town although I moved every 2-3 years of my life growing up. Currently work in the aerospace industry in an engineering position while being a Mom. Of Celtic heritage and very proud of it.

Wednesday, February 09, 2005

A New Kindred Spirit

Do you ever just lose it? I mean really frickin’ lose it. It can appear to be nothing, but it’s just that damn proverbial straw and you just can’t take it anymore. Well… it happened tonight. Those who know me are probably laughing or are horrified. I can get a good rant going. Cussing, hollering, arms flailing, pacing… it’s not pretty.

I get home from karate and I hear Son#1 say, “Mom, we gotta run to the store and buy me some boots. Lace up boots.”

Wha?

Come to find out, there is a field trip tomorrow to ‘The Little Red School House’ located at Phipps Park it dates back to 1865, and the kids are supposed to dress in period clothing. Sure, they sent home a packet of stuff a couple weeks ago. At the top was the permission slip. I signed it and sent it back in. The next two pages were history of The Little Red School House and at that point, my eyes glazed over and I tossed it aside.

Like I really give a rat’s ass about the history of The Little Red School House (hereby known as TLRSH). Don’t get me wrong. It’s cool. It really is. But I have too much crap going on in my life to sit down and read about stuff that is completely irrelevant to my here and now and TLRSH fits right in there as far as irrelevancy.

Flash forward to now, I call a fellow Mom in a fit. I’ve known her for 5 years. She is sweet. Really sweet. She runs Bible studies for Catholic women. She’s also the Mother of my son’s best friend from school and the mother of two boys. The conversation went something like this… almost exclusively one sided:

Me: Did you know they have to f----ing dress up for this f----ing field trip?

Mom: Yeah, he told me and there was this packet of papers.

Me, wigging out big big big: A packet of papers?! What packet of papers is this? (I am now scrounging around my counters at the piles of school papers we have. Don’t ask. I have a clear mind, but the clutter has to go somewhere. It goes on my counters.)

Mom: It came with the permission slip…

Me: You.have.got.to.be.f---ing.kidding.me. That packet of papers?! There was relevant sh— in there? I tossed it aside. I can’t f---ing believe this. I read the cover and thought, “I don’t have time for this sh—“ and I tossed it.

Mom: This dressing thing is supposed to be kind of important…

Me, cutting her off: If it’s so f---ing important you’d think they’d send a damn note home saying something like, “And remember, period costumes”. And WTF is this about Boots? Boots?! He’s wearing his f---ing tennis shoes.

Mom: He doesn’t own any other shoes that tennis shoes?

Me: Hell No. He’s a BOY! I’m lucky he WEARS SHOES!

Mom: Whew. I thought I was the only one whose kids only wore tennis shoes…

Me: Hell NO. This sucks. You know, this really sucks. I can’t believe this…

And on it went. Heh.

I get off the phone and my husband says, ‘You shouldn’t have talked like that to her. She’s a nice woman.”

Evidently I’m not. Surprise.

My reply was something like, “I’ve known her for 5 years. I’m not changing for anyone. If she can’t handle it, screw it.” And I walked off to put the costume together. We improvised and he is wearing trousers tucked into black soccer socks so they look like knickers. He has a corduroy long sleeved shirt with a collar. And a belt. There you go. He is happy. I’m happ…ier. Still kind of pissed.

An hour later my phone rings. I’m taking home Mom’s son from school tomorrow, just dropping him off. She said to me, “You do not know how you made my day.”

Me: How in the world could I make your day? I completely freaked.

Mom: Because you showed me I’m not the only one who completely loses it. I’m not the only Mom out there who finally can take no more and just f---ing freaks out.

She actually said the F word.

So much for worrying. We then talked for another hour, commiserating about the things that go on in our lives and how sometimes we just want to scream. And… some days we do.

10 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

* * * * * sending some pats on the back.

By the way, this continues through the later years. I just received an email from my college freshman. Seems registration for spring classes is next week and she has been placed on *immunization hold* for one of three things. Of course none of the three have been marked on the postcard in her mailbox. Makes a person wonder what happened to all those forms that were sent in last summer.

Regards,
cin from socal

2:42 AM  
Blogger Contagion said...

Period costumes? Not a problem! (looks toward closet full of period costumes) As for the school sending stuff home, hey at least yours gave you some warning. Our oldests school mailed the February calender advising he had last Friday off of school, last Thursday. That was fun.

7:54 AM  
Blogger Quality Weenie said...

I can feel for you. Between work and school I am barely hanging on but the rope is fraying.

Hubby last week says "you know you have been saying f*ck a lot lately"

My response "f*ck you"

8:14 AM  
Blogger Anathematized1 said...

Reminds me of a song (sung to "Frosty the Snowman"):

F*ckety, f*ck, f*ck
F*ckety, f*ck, f*ck
Look at that f*cker go.
F*ckety, f*ck, f*ck
F*ckety, f*ck, f*ck
Over the f*ckin' snow!

(It tends to help during the particularly frustrating Holiday Season, but I find it soothing at ANY time of year when one needs to curse gratuitously.)

12:15 PM  
Blogger Caltechgirl said...

ROFL! Love it.

12:22 PM  
Blogger Graumagus said...

Damn, Contagion beat me to it hehehe

"Period clothes? What period? Early American, not a problem... Renaissance/Medieval, also not a problem.
You need Ancient Egyptian or 11th century Japanese I'm going to need 48 hours...."

You could always be like Dale from King of the Hill and dress him in a Star Fleet uniform:

"These are period clothes, the future is a period!"

12:49 PM  
Blogger KTreva said...

I find that when I need to vent my frustrations, words like crap, or phooey really don't cut it. F*ck works much better, especially when used multiple times in a row!

3:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

My first thought is... you f---ing want them in period costumes.... you f---ing buy them the costumes and dress them yourself! Sorry, but that's BS as far as I'm concerned! Any "dress up" should be optional. Expending extra money for a single day school trip is ridiculous in the extreme. Now if it was a uniform they had to wear every day - that's another matter. What did the girls have to do? Get long dresses and bonnets?

Yeah, I could get worked up about this too and it's not even like I have kids in school anymore!!! LOL.
Teresa

3:19 PM  
Blogger Stu said...

I agree on the point of how the schools communicate. They do the same thing here in Texas. There's always a big packet and it drones on and on. They need to summarize in big bold type up front in bullet form (one bullet for each action they require), what they want from us. Then if we care to read the details, then we can sift through the rest of the packet. Unfurtunately, this is just a lack of communication skills. It happens at work all the time as well. I go through a mind numbing 50 page PowerPoint and the presenter still has not made a point or asked for anything or made a recommendation.

7:25 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Boy I was ROFLOL due to identifying with both of you.

It's nice knowing you're not alone and being validated isn't it!

michele
lettersfromnyc

10:49 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home