Manic Monday

Today it feels like Monday.  Yes, I know it is Monday, but today it feels like Monday. Nothing is going right.  The kids are driving me crazy, nothing’s working, and if I have to meet with another service person, I might just shoot myself.

First, there’s the kids and their fighting, which never stops.  It starts as soon as I walk down the stairs in the morning, “He’s invading my personal space!” and rolls at a steady pace all throughout the day, “He hit me,” “Whatever, D.D. Dumber,” “That’s mine!”  I could go on and on.

Then, there’s second son’s persistence:
“Can you get the helicopter down?”
“It’s for older kids.  You’ll break it.  Wait for Dad.”
“Can you get the helicopter down?”
“I said, no.”
“Can you get the helicopter down?”

Second son takes a five minute break and then the whole sequence is repeated.  He takes another five minute break, and the whole sequence is repeated again but this time with minor variations, like “no fair” and “you’re so mean”.  He takes another five minute break, and then repeats the sequence with both of us becoming more and more angry. He’s been going for…five days now.

You would think taking a break from our routine to go to a children’s theatre (more on that, hopefully, tomorrow) and spending a few days at the shore with their cousins would stop their pattern of fighting, and persisting, and constant neediness, but it didn’t.  They kept it up the whole time we were there.  Coming back home didn’t solve the problem either.  Apparently, they’re slaves to habit.

I’m investigating boarding school.  I think those parents might be on to something.

As if my own familial woes weren’t enough, there’s the endless string of repairmen, service men, mold people, bug guys, and landscapers that I’ve had to endure in an effort to remedy all the issues that popped up in the home inspection.  After meeting with these people, I feel like putting out a mass bulletin, less is more, people. Unless you’re like one popular siding company in my area, who apparently is too busy to even call me back, because even after two phone calls and two messages, they haven’t bothered to return my calls. In that case, less is just less.

Here’s just a small sampling of the wonderful people I’ve encountered in the past two weeks.  There’s the sulky twenty-something bug guy, who wanted to know if I was a single mom.  “Why,” I asked, “would you think that?”

“I didn’t see you wearing a ring.”

What?  It’s eight o’clock in the morning, you’re lucky I’m out of my pajamas, buddy.  Sorry I didn’t have time to get my jewelry on.  And while were on the subject, it’s kind of weird that you’ve taken the time to look for a wedding ring on one of your many trips up and down my attic stairs.  And what were you doing in the attic for two hours?

Then, there’s landscaper number one, who pretty much accused me of trying to beat out my old landscaper by going with a new one.  I had to endure an hour of his prattling on and on about what he would do in the front of my house.  I got it, buddy, you wouldn’t pull the big tree. I don’t care!  It’s not your house, I wanted to scream. Just give me a price to pull some shrubs and weeds, and move on.  And just in case it isn’t obvious, I never did get that spring clean up.

Then, there’s second landscaper guy, a close talker, with heavily laden cigarette breath, who took an hour an half explaining everything from what type of grass I have to what type of lotion works best on poison ivy.  Are you kidding me?  Do you not see the three children running in and out of the house holding a helicopter (yes, that helicopter) yelling, “Watch, mom, we got it working,” as I stand, fuming, as they crash the thing violently into the ground?

Then, there’s technology and all the ease it brings to my life.   Yea, right!  Something’s wrong with my iPhone, my email stopped working.  After exhausting all my options, I deleted the account and decided to reinstall it.  It didn’t work.  No matter what I do, I can’t get it to connect.  I tried to put in a call to my brother, the Apple employee, and when I couldn’t get him, I tried to trouble shoot online, except I need my apple password to get in to the help section and I can’t for the life of me figure out what that is or if I even have one.  I can’t take all these passwords. I am overloaded with passwords.

Then there’s good ‘ol Comcast, or is it Infinity?  I tried to turn on my tv this morning and it said my box was invalid, or unrecognizable, or something like that and that I should call them. I don’t understand.  It was working fine last night.  Torture!  If you’ve ever had to call a utility company than you know what I’m talking about.  I’m just hoping that I can opt out of voice recognition, which is always so much fun with three children in the background.

Forget a maid (my husband’s wish), or a nanny (mine), even landscapers. Please, I really just need a personal assistant.

Some people like to attend to the details, the scheduling, the minutiae.  Not me.  I fancy myself more of a manager.  Just fix it.  Just give me a price.  Just stop fighting, please! (Ok, maybe a personal assistant and a nanny.)

Let’s see, what else?  Little lady’s back to pooping in diapers and my house is a mess, again!

Here’s hoping tomorrow’s better.

2 thoughts on “Manic Monday

  1. I call it the ‘Post-Grandma/Pa house blues’ where it was dessert every night, tv all the time, and all the fun that can be fit into one day with your cousins is now restricted tv, boredom and no more junk food. It all makes for unhappy kids and unhappy moms until everyone settles back into the routine! Hope you make it here Wednesday.

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