Bent Words

Bent Words

January 03, 2020

I know it’s the worst thing in the world for me to say, NINE MONTHS PREGNANT, but I don’t want kids right meow. I don’t want the ones I already have and I don’t want the one I’m going to have. Not completely but a little bit. And mostly just because the Big One is whining and bored and dripping upside down onto the living carpet from the easy chair in such a way that is not only noisy but alarmingly effective at ANNOYING the snot out of me. The Smaller One views me more as a waitress than a mom so I’ve thus far garnered peach tea, a bag of Scooby Snacks and countless re-shuffling of a blanket as her arms and legs are seemingly inept at motion.

And, bored. HOW ARE YOU BORED?!

10 days off of Christmas with WHO KNOWS how much $$$ in toys, two tablets, a Disney + channel, stacks of books and each other and you are bored. Good. Be bored. I have no intention of entertaining you tonight, tomorrow or the next day. Find what fixes this incurable boredom you speak of and run with it! Or continue to drip off of furniture because I no longer hear the asinine sound of fake tears hitting the ground. I am tuning you out to crawl into my mind’s black hole of quietude and peaceful bliss. I will be here for awhile if you need me so, please, do NOT need me anytime soon. I am not the fetcher of things (which includes milk, reachable healthy snacks in the form of fruit, blankets that have mysteriously fallen off of your lazy lap or ice cream when the last thing deserved are treats).

To the Tiniest One I say, BE WARNED! You are entering a home of lazy little people and frazzled big people! We love you but you are doomed to the same tortures as the rest of us! Sheer boredom followed by dripping siblings and whiny voices amassed into one small space now called your ‘home.’

I am sorry.

You might also have to listen to your mother have a major meltdown and I PROMISE I am not trying to be weak. It’s the others who have worn me down. I’m about to have created three of you and yet I just need a break! My impatience is staggering. And, no, it’s not your fault but children just are so selfish and sometimes their semblance to tiny terrorists is a bit overwhelming. So us big people need a break and we don’t usually allow ourselves such luxuries (even when we’re at the breaking point).

I want a bar with football and a cold beer. With friends or without – fine by me – I don’t need company to be kept entertained. I can sit and just SIT and be mighty fine. I don’t want to have to worry about bringing anyone into a bathroom or changing a diaper or what you’re going to eat next. I just want to worry about the next cold drink, followed by a water since I have zero tolerance at present, followed by a nice ride home by someone who isn’t going to judge me if I break down into tears because I have somehow allowed my brood to outnumber me.

I am ridiculous at present but I’ll get better. I love you all SO MUCH and that’s why you are capable of driving me SO FREAKIN’ NUTS.

Someday you’ll understand but, until then, I’ll be doing something different somewhere else until I’ve successfully regrouped and found a small semblance of sanity.


Written at 8:10 p.m.