Posted by: Hannah | 10/29/2015

surly Thursday, All Hallows edition

Yesterday I woke up, and I thought it would be an okay day. It turned out that it was not, and I’m still kind of sad about that. My frustration with all sorts of things just built and built until KA-BOOM! I blew my stack all over dinner prep and left a smoking crater behind.

Fezzik

I am still trying to fill the vacant spot left by Louis’ departure for big kid school. My current clients are well-aware that I have an unfilled vacancy, so one in particular is really pushing the boundaries because she knows I can’t replace her any time soon.

Both Harry and Ron came home from school today asking if I’d send snacks for their classroom Halloween parties. The parties are on Friday. The snacks have to be healthy. That’s snacks for 47 kids. By Friday. Teachers, I am usually the one defending your profession but you are making it hard. Give me a week’s notice, at least. With two days, you’re getting a giant bag of baby carrots.

THEY’RE ORANGE. AND MY HEART IS BLACK WITH RAGE SO THERE YOU GO. IT FITS THE THEME.

My cat has gone on a pre-winter murderous rampage, as he does every fall, but this year there is a fun new twist. He only eats the heads. Not even the whole head – he somehow peels off the nose, upper jaw, and whiskers, and leaves that delightful little morsel next to the headless corpse. Last week it was a squirrel that he brought in the house and started eating on my carpet. Yesterday it was a rat that the kids found under the swingset. I have a reasonably strong stomach, but it’s goddamn disgusting, and then the stupid cat sleeps on my bed at night, rubbing his face against my face and it’s like NOOOOO I KNOW WHERE THAT FACE HAS BEEN, YOU LITTLE ASSHOLE.

The last two hours of my workday are the worst, every day. A group of three is inherently unstable, and I have three school-aged boys come home. They used to be able to entertain themselves really well, but those days are behind us, it would seem. They are forever creating rules for everything, and then fighting about the rules. So much fighting and bickering, my god, it’s enough to make Pope Francis snap and he’s the chillest guy on the planet.

George was a shrieking defiant banshee all evening. Harry is constantly telling me he has no clean socks or pants, and I know it’s because he never cleans his room and so does he, but his solution of “let me do my own laundry” only works if he, you know, DOES his own laundry occasionally.

My dog woke me up at 4:30 this morning by vomiting copiously all over his dog bed. And the carpet. And the kitchen floor. I discovered the kitchen floor puddle when I stepped squarely in it on my way to the light switch. He’s probably got an upset stomach from eating headless rodents.

I haven’t got pumpkins for Halloween yet, we’re having family pictures taken on Sunday and all three kids need new neutral-colour sweaters for it because it’s much too cold for just shirts, I bought a can of pureed pumpkin for baking and it has disappeared somehow because I can’t find it anywhere, and my six-month-old sneakers are completely worn out and need replacing.

I offended a fellow dayhome provider yesterday because there was a discussion thread about pacifiers and you’d think that saying “I don’t see why parents let kids have them once they’ve hit school” would be a safe statement in a group of childcare professionals, but you’d be wrong, because her six year old still corks one in her mouth every day as soon as she gets home from school.  I felt kind of bad that I made that mom feel judged, but on the other hand, I really do believe that a six year old with a pacifier is 50 shades of unnecessary. So then I felt bad for not feeling bad, if that makes any sense.

I’m hoping today gets better. I don’t like feeling all icky and cranky like this. It feels wrong, like when it’s laundry day and you wear those underwear from the back of the drawer that have the popped elastic so they keep sliding down your butt all day long. I’m out of sorts and constantly making tiny discreet adjustments that don’t actually fix the problem.

There! That was quite the grump, wasn’t it? Now I’m off to research activities for school-aged kids, because it’s raining today so they’ll all be indoors. Fingers crossed that things improve.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Responses

  1. I am feeling nothing but empathy towards you.

    This is an ideal post for this particular day.

    I am sure “this too shall pass”, but holy HELL Mamma’s cranky right now.

    Nothing is going right today. Nothing.

    I want it to be bedtime and the Things are not even out of school yet! Plus, if I sleep I will absolutely screw up any chance that tomorrow will be decent.

    Yeah. Decent. That’s my big plan.

    ‘Nuff said.

    • Some days, you just want to skip ahead to bedtime because you KNOW it isn’t going to improve no matter how noble your efforts.

      • That is exactly right and you just reminded me of a Little Bear episode I loved when my son was teeny. It was a bad day episode and they fixed the day by going back to bed! Wouldn’t that be a dreamy solution? If only. 😉

        Thankfully Friday was better and Saturday was excellent! I had two Trick or Treaters to walk all over the place with and that made me very happy.

  2. I’m sorry, a SIX-YEAR-OLD with a pacifier? I judge that pretty strongly if the kid doesn’t have profound special needs. Time to help the kid find another method of self-soothing. I’m not even a fan of a six-year-old thumbsucker without profound special needs, either. Can you imagine how gross it would sound to hear a six-year-old doing that toddler thing where they talk through the pacifier? *shudders*

    • Yeah, no special needs; just “survival” and “I know I’m a failure as a mother but we have good dental coverage”.

      Thumb-sucking is harder – you can’t chop off their thumbs. One of my kids (shan’t identify) sucked his thumb constantly until he started school. We tried everything; that gross stuff you put on their nails, band-aids, bribery, sticker charts, you name it. In the end, he had to make the decision (with some help from our dentist) that he wanted to kick the habit, and then with our help it went pretty smoothly.

      But pacifiers? Super-easy. Throw ’em out. Done. Parents who refuse to make their own lives slightly more difficult in order to help their kids make me frustrated.

  3. THIS WEEK. What the hell is up with this week? It’s been surly all around. I’d be more than surly if I was on the receiving end of headless rats. I almost had a breakdown yesterday in Superstore when the guy in front of me had a fresh chicken in a bag that broke, and the chicken plopped right in front of me. If it was a headless rat I’d probably still be in the fetal position in the bathroom with a bottle of wine.

    • Oh GROSS. And I’ll bet the cashier just casually wiped down the conveyor belt with Windex and paper towels, too. *shudder*

  4. I add my voice to the chorus of what on earth is up this week? Work is insanity, my kids are crabby and not well rested because they keep waking up way too early (even for them), traffic is a horror story, and Youngest has had 5 days off of school this month so H and I are at our wits end trying to manage child care and work. I am ready for November to get here.

  5. We call pacifiers ‘dummies’ . It’s also what I call parents of six year olds with pacifiers.
    Paragraph 4 is why I do not like cats. NDFC keeps leaving dead mice in my front garden. I keep shovelling them up into ND’s garden.
    Please know that I laughed my head off at this post, therefore revelling in your misery. I love you Hannah X

  6. This post honours the very spirit of Surly Thursday, which is to spew forth all your surliness in terms that make others join in with gleeful sympathetic hilarity. Was frigging mercury in retrograde or Scorpio’s house in goddamned Gemini rising or something this week? Because JESUS. Hugs. And bellinis.


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