Showing posts with label PISSED. Show all posts
Showing posts with label PISSED. Show all posts

Sunday, December 08, 2013

*sigh* Church People

Candyland is frozen over and I've had lots and lots of time over the past few days (four days to be exact; I've not left the house in FOUR days. It's like heaven) to ponder and, um  dwell  on a certain interaction that occurred last Sunday that has left a very bad taste in my mouth.

I love my church. No, seriously. My church is wonderful, and to be more specific, my Sunday School class is just downright amazing. When I hear people talk about how churches are so hypocritical and judgmental and only want perfect people in their buildings, I know that these poor individuals have never been to my church. My Sunday school class has seen me through the end of my miserable marriage, my divorce, a surgery and hospital stay that was beyond terrifying, and countless other crap that comes up in the course of a normal life. They have stepped up to be godly examples to my kids; taking my boys hunting, fishing, to ball games, and to Boy Scout events since their dad (who does his best - not ex bashing here) lives so far away. I've had people from my church step up to fix my plumbing, take care of my yard, drive my kids when I couldn't. Nobody has ever presumed to judge me or make me feel bad about the job I'm doing as a mom. Nobody ever acts like they are better than you. Nobody pretends that because they are on this committee of that council that they are more holy than you are. They recognize that everyone has flaws and that just because they are good at one thing, they aren't good at everything. It takes the whole Body of Christ to really make things work for a church. We all tend to be checking for the plank in our own eyes and leave it to you to find the speck in yours.  Basically, my big, wonderful church is, mostly, full of people that wouldn't fit the most definitions of "church people."

But...(you knew that was coming, right?)

As if to make a liar out of me, I had an encounter last week with a person from my church that made me feel about four inches tall. Then it just started to piss me off. This is a person I've known for a very long time. I've never been particularly close with this person, but I do appreciate what he does for the church. He and his family are some of those people who are there "every time the church doors are open." They really do fill a number of needs that our church has. He works a lot with the youth. And having two children in the youth group, I REALLY appreciate those who give their time to care for the spiritual growth of these kids. HOWEVER...

(small segue for explanation)

If you know me at all or have read much of my blog, you know that I struggle mightily with chronic migraines. A few years ago, the flight surgeon also determined that I have some sort of auto-immune disease that we never did figure out. After several blood tests and other attempts, this flight surgeon got assigned elsewhere and the remaining docs didn't have the time or inclination to play "What the hell is wrong with Buffi" any longer. Suffice to say, I do take care of my kids and try my darndest to get them to all the extra-curricular activities they participate in so that they can grow up to be healthy, well-rounded people. Some days, though, I wake up with a particularly terrible headache that keeps me from driving because I can barely open my eyes. Or when I do open my eyes, everything looks a little, um, wavy or weird and I feel like I can't trust my senses to guide me. On school days, I do my best to power through and at least get the kids to school. The cost of that is that I generally end up back in bed for the rest of the day until I have to get the boys. Although now that SP can drive, I can have her pick them up sometimes or I have had friends who do that for me once or twice.

Add to that: For the past several years, SugarPlum  played on a club soccer team that required us to travel to Metropolis to our south in order to play. So many, many weekends, we missed church because of soccer games. Now that she is a junior in high school, her club team basically disbanded because juniors & seniors would rather spend weekends with their friends and/or working than travelling two hours each way to play soccer. Yes, I'm a soccer mom without a soccer team...but that's another post for another time. The upside of this is that we have been able to go to church much more often and the boys have finally been able to be way more involved in some of the activities at church. Yay! [now that I am thinking about it, these are the same parents who made it a point to tell me that they would never put sports before church...whatever]

Now, there are still some Sundays when I wake up, open my eyes, and the pain that comes shooting from every direction causes me to lie back down and say, "NOPE. Not happening today." So, I take some migraine medicine, drink as much water as my queasy belly will allow and go back to bed, hoping that the pain will pass. Am I proud that I'm missing church and causing my kids to miss? No. I'm very sad about this. Could I get SP to take them to church. Probably. But my brain isn't exactly functioning at capacity and the ridiculous amount of nagging it takes to get those boys ready to go anywhere, much less dressed in a manner acceptable (to me anyway) for church, is usually beyond my brain's paltry abilities at that point. So we all stay home.

Last week was one of those Sundays. However, by Sunday afternoon, I was feeling much better and was able to get Bear to church for Bible Drill followed by a party that the youth group was having. When I went up there to fetch him after the party was over, this man (the one I mentioned waaaaay back there, before you stopped reading, because golly this has turned into a long post!) pulls me aside and says, "I have a bone to pick with you!" I, knowing this man as a fun-loving guy with a good sense of humor, chuckled and said, "Okay, what did they do now?" 

THEN, this man - this self-righteous man - proceeds to SCOLD me, saying that Bear told him I had slept in this morning and that I have a responsibility to get my kids to church every Sunday. He didn't think it was okay for me to just sleep in when these boys wanted to be at church. I was speechless. I smiled, nodded and told him that from now on, I'd be sure to have Bear call him when his mom was too lazy to get the kids to church. Okay, maybe I left out the "when his mom was too lazy to get the kids to church" part, but I was just floored. 

I carry so much guilt over what I cannot do when I'm going through a bad streak of migraines. Not to mention the guilt I feel for my kids having to grow up with divorced parents. I was awfully proud that I'd been getting us to church as often as I had. I was also feeling pretty good that I'd gotten Bear to church that night. I truly felt like somebody punched me in the gut. Now I can hardly look at him or his wife (who has also chastised me in the past for Bug missing Sunday school, but not to that extent) without feeling angry. And I don't like that. 

I wish that people could understand that many of us are doing the best we can and that what we need most is encouragement when we are getting everyone to church. I wasn't feeling God's love at all last Sunday. What I was feeling wasn't coming from God at all. Why can't people see that these kinds of interactions are what KEEP people away from church? If I hadn't been a member of this church for nearly ten years, I don't know what effect it would have had on me. I don't know that I would want take my kids back to a place where it seemed the policy was to make parents feel bad. Thank goodness I have my Sunday School class and other good, loving friends in my church who encourage and support me and never once make me feel bad for missing when I can't help it. I feel sad for those people who haven't had time to meet the friends I have and whose early encounters are with stereotypical "church people." Our church is a great place filled with the most amazing people. If you are active in your church, please consider how your words sound to others. No one person is more "holy" than another. Nobody gets to pass judgment on anyone else but God. So stop casting those stones already.

I'll get over this. But I just pray that I'm the only one that caught this man's judgment and not a new person who is struggling with their faith and feelings. It would be sad for something like this to drive someone away entirely.

(and if you made it all the way through, thanks for listening to my rant!)

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Sorry about the lack of posting again, but....

You know what I hate? I hate being unable to post and share what is going on with me and my kids and all of the funny, joyful, irritating, crazy, LIFE around here. And WHY am I unable to post? Because of the possibility that every word I type can be used against me (and probably is). And I hate that. It makes me angry. Because it shouldn't be that way. But evidently it is. So, sorry, all three people who still read around here. Just thought I'd give you an explanation.

As it is, everyone is healthy. Everyone is happy. It is summer, so everyone is whiny - especially me since I'm working my tail off in school, trying to get this MA done as quickly as possible AND spend time with my kiddos, because they are growing up so fast. I'll fill you in someday. I hope. Comments will be turned off on this post. Email or call me if you want to offer encouragement. I love you guys.

Monday, February 25, 2008

IRATE (warning:profanity laden post. read at your own risk)


To the Motherfucking Asshole "gentleman" driving the pickup on I-35 Saturday:

Dear Dickhead,

What the fuck is your problem? I am nobody to lay much fault on someone for accidentally rear-ending another person while driving. But I STOPPED and accepted the consequences. What kind of asshole runs into someone and then LEAVES?? And especially when it was patently obvious that there likely was a baby in the minivan that you bashed in? Who drives off without at least making sure that everyone inside is okay?!! Fucker.

I will tell you that that was my sweet Buttercup in that van. My precious godbaby. And her big sister, my other god-daughter. And my oldest, dearest friend. You hit her van with enough force that it shattered the rear windshield and glass was found as far forward as the middle row - IN THE BABY SEAT. Bless their hearts, they were all freaked out. Thankfully, everyone was okay NO THANKS TO YOU. Moron.

I suspect that you are:

a) an illegal alien
b) uninsured
c) a felon out on parole, afraid of going back to jail
d) any combination of the above

Guy, you had better hope that I never EVER find you. Because I will tear you to pieces. I hope that you are experiencing some terrible guilt. I hope that you end up having an ulcer and chronic migraines over this. Mostly though, I hope that nothing like this ever happens to you. Because the pain, anxiety and trouble that this has caused for my dear, precious friend is something that I cannot ever wish on anyone.

Should you wish to get in touch with the victim of your unconscionable act, you can get in touch with me and I will let her know. Until then....GROW A CONSCIENCE.

Sincerely,
SugarMommy
PS To all of the other people on I-35 in Dallas Saturday who failed to stop and help a woman who CLEARLY needed help or to even give her the license plate of the asshole who hit her: You should be ashamed of yourselves. You all saw what happened and you all chose to keep flying right past her. It's almost as bad.

(There really are not enough profanities in the world, or this post about you would have been much longer)

Thursday, November 15, 2007

Pay no attention to the obviously deranged Astronaut Cowboy

I have no explanation for the appearance of my son here. Other than perhaps, he's four and he has a HUGE sense of humor. This isn't even the funniest outfit he has come up with. Astronaut suit, teeny tiny cowboy hat, two different socks and underwear on the outside. It's just the funniest one I have happened to get a picture of. So you can only IMAGINE what he walks out here in some days.


But this post isn't even about Bug and his all too apparent need for a psychological evaluation -sooner rather than later.

This post is about furniture. Specifically, about the furniture in this picture. The sofas. Do you see them? Well, do you see the loveseat anyway? It is a good representation of the other three pieces that came with it. (Sofa, loveseat, chair and ottoman) Being exactly the same and all.

SD and I shopped our asses off last Christmas trying to find just the right living room furniture. (Sadly, my ass grew right back. Big as ever.) We narrowed it down to two. (sets of furniture. not asses.) One set at a chain store named after one of the Olsen twins. One at a chain that has several FURNITURE stores in a ROW. Ultimately, we went with the second store. We thought the sofa set we bought there would last us a long time and would be rugged enough to withstand our boys.

WRONGO.

I am so very, very unhappy with this furniture right now. Not a month after we got it, the fabric started getting "pulls" in it. Sort of coming unravelled. And not from some blatant abuse by the boys, but just getting caught on something as one of us passed by the ottoman. Now, there are pulls somewhere on each piece.


PLUS - and this is what is most aggravating - the fabric is "pilled" up ALL OVER the blasted furniture. It looks like it is about ten years old. And it is not even a year old. I am of the opinion that when you spend several thousand dollars on furniture, it should stay looking, if not new, then not OLD for...well, at least until you have paid it off! (The store offered no interest/no payments for two years or something like that)

In addition, it has gotten mushy and uncomfortable. I'm whiny, I know. But I am just so disappointed. SD talked to the manager about this a few weeks ago and he said that they would fix the fabric where it is pulled and that they could add more stuffing to make it firmer. But how do they fix the pilling? (It's a word NOW) I can only see that being remedied by totally reupholstering ALL OF IT. And that just seems crazy. PLUS what are we supposed to do for living room furniture while it's being fixed?

Do you think that they will just replace it? Do you think that we an pick something else or at least a different fabric? Do you think that I will stop whining any time soon?


Nah. Me neither.

**I do realize that if this is the biggest problem in my life, that I have so much to be thankful for. And I am, truly. But I must whine. It's my job.

Saturday, November 10, 2007

Conversations that make my mom laugh her ass off (which is really starting to sound like me nagging)

Me: SugarPlum. Throwing all of your clothes into the laundry basket is not "putting your clothes away." There are clothes in here that are folded! And LOOK! These have TAGS on them! How could they possibly be dirty if you have never EVER worn them? There should only be actual dirty clothes coming in here in the hamper. You'd better cut this crap out or you'll end up doing your OWN LAUNDRY from now on. Capisce?


SugarPlum: :::stomping::: followed by :::slamming door:::


Are you sensing a theme here?

Friday, November 09, 2007

Conversations that make my mom laugh her ass off (10 year-old version...continued)

SugarPlum: My room is all clean!

Me: Did you really get it all clean or did you just push everything to the edges of your room so that the middle *looks* clean but if one pays any attention at all, she can see the piles of CRAP lining the perimeter? Because if it's the latter, I will have to say, no, it is NOT clean and you cannot go to Izzy's house until it is.

SugarPlum: :::BIGGEST SIGH EVER::: followed by *slamming door *

That's what I thought.


Me: Slam that door again and I'm taking it off the hinges!

Thursday, November 01, 2007

Perturbed

I have a question that I'm not sure if anyone who reads here will have the answer to. But here it is:

What the hell is so funny, cool, or whatever about taking pumpkins and other decorations off of people's front porches and lawns and smashing them in the street? I'm assuming it is teenagers roaming around at night, but I can't be sure. I just don't understand what it is about tearing up the prized decorations of children and of other people that is so appealing. To anyone.


Now, my kids' pumpkins get put out on the back porch every year for this very reason. But the very sweet lady next door goes all out every year decorating her house for the season. It is always very tasteful and lovely with neat looking pumpkin topiaries and jack-o-lanterns. And every year, they get smashed in the street. This just makes me angry. And even though, they aren't ours, my kids are devastated that someone would do that to Ms. Sherry's pumpkins. They just don't get it.

If someone can explain it, please do. Because I am feeling very unforgiving right now. I guess that I just don't get it either.


Halloween pictures of the SugarBabies will be posted later, I promise. I have to get to work just now....

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Some days you're the doorknob, some days you're the Giant F'ing Gorilla

Last night, I was the gorilla. And this doorknob pissed. me. off.



Yesterday was crazy. An absolute clusterfuck of activities. Totally exacerbated by the fact that SD was night flying and was therefore unavailable for transporting SugarBabies about town. He's so selfish. Working and all. So, the schedule was this:

3:30 Parent/Teacher conference
4:00-6:00: SP's soccer practice
6:00-7:00: Bug's soccer practice
6:30-??? Bear's Boy Scout meeting

Allegedly.

So, I bust my ass getting back from the conference to get SP to soccer practice on time. And we made it! But? Nobody was there. Because practice actually started at 4:30. No worries. We hung out for a few minutes and some people showed up. I remembered that I hadn't grabbed Bear's Cub Scout uniform, so I ran back home to fetch it and then came back. (Remember this...this is key) We hang out at practice and by 6:00, I needed to go pee. I mean REALLY needed to. And there is no bathroom at the practice field. So, as soon as SP is dismissed from practice, we hightail it to McDonalds, so that I can potty and so that we can get some food.

If you paid any attention to that schedule up there, it required that I be in two places at once. I'm good....but not cloned yet. Bug's practice got ditched. He's four. He'll get over it.

SO. We eat our crappy fast food on our way to the scout meeting - Bear still hasn't changed clothes. We get to the church right at 6:30! Wooo hoooo!! But wait! There's no one here. Not a soul. The doors are locked. the lights are out. CRAP.

Actually, not all that disappointed. I was ready to go home and chill. So, we head to the casa and everyone unloads their crap I go to unlock the deadbolt and discover that someone has locked the doorknob. I don't have a key to the doorknob. SD is flying. Crap.

So, I try hitting the door with my shoulder like the cops on TV do. Guess what. That shit hurts. Also, it doesn't work. So, I try to jimmy the lock with a credit card. That doesn't work either. Last resort? I start whacking the holy hell out of the doorknob with a hammer until it opens. It was actually pretty cathartic. Though, poor SD got home and thought that someone had tried to break into the house.

I'm such a badass.

Thursday, May 10, 2007

You know who you are

If you're going to call my house, at least have the balls to not hang up. I have caller id, you know. Oh, and a brain.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

A few words for the parents in front of Candyland Elementary School

1. When you stop in the middle of the street and wait for your child to be realeased from school, it not only backs up traffic for blocks, preventing all of the other parents from being able to park and pick up our kids, it also endangers your kids and all of the other kids trying to get to their moms (or whomever is picking them up). Cut it out. Find a parking place. Nothing is worth compromising the safety of your child. Or mine.

2. When you DO park, pull all the way over to the curb, please. Stopping near an open spot is not the same as parking.

3. When you have a yield sign it means just that. YIELD already, dammit! I don't care if you do have a Lexus SUV. You still have to wait until traffic has cleared before it is your turn. Moron.

4. When you are dropping your kid off in the morning and you need to escort him in, please do not park and get out in the "loading and unloading only" area. Even for "a sec." It screws everyone else up. And besides, if you were to go about 22 feet around the curve, you would find a parking lot. Very handy for these situations.

5. Standing next to the driver's side window and talking to your friend after school has let out also blocks traffic. I don't care what position you hold on the PTA board, I am going to run over your Juicy clad ass AND your Kate Spade bag next time it happens.

6. Having a new Suburban does NOT automatically give you right of way.

7. Turn your damn music down. I don't appreciate the migraine I get from hearing your bass nor do I want my children learning the "lyrics" to anything that 50 Cent, Nelly, or whoever that is you have blasting from your windows has recorded. Sheesh.

8. This is an Elementary school for goodness sake. When someone angers you with his/her poor driving skills or etiquette, consider your language before you begin to berate that person. Do you want to hear those words coming form your child's mouth? I certainly don't.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

POP QUIZ!

No, not for you. But, I am hoping that I can get some answers...


1. When you would like a particular snack after school, your odds of getting said snack will increase most by:

a. Asking every three minutes.
b. Walking around saying, "I'm staaarrrrrving" and sighing heavily.
c. Maybe starting your homework and picking up your bedroom.
d. Throwing yourself on the floor and crying, "I want my Daddy!"

2. When you would like some milk, the best way to ask is to say:

a. MILK!!!!
b. May I have some milk please, Mommy?
c. IwantmilkIwantmilkIwantmilkIwantmilkIwantmilkIwantmilkIwantmilk

3. In the morning, the best way to get out the door for school without having to hear Mommy scream at you is to:

a. eat breakfast, get dressed, make sure your backpack is ready to go, then play with your brother if there is time before we have to go
b. Stretch and lay in bed for 15 minutes, complain about your breakfast choices and then eat at grand total of three bites of what I finally make for you, play with your brother, cry because Mommy screams at you, go into your room, wrestle with your brother, cry over the screaming again, whine while Mommy helps you get dressed, finally get in the car but forget your backpack, more screaming...you get the idea
c. Throw yourself on the floor and cry, "I want my Daddy!"
d. feign death

4. True or False: Mommy is really just joking when she says that about putting your toys away and getting ready for bed.

5. A reasonable amount of television viewing for a child is:

a. 2 hours/day
b. 16 hours/day
c. I'm sorry, can you ask me at the next commercial?

6. The snack you are most likely to get is:

a. a yogurt
b. a banana
c. a bag of cheetos and a can of Coke
d. if you don't stop that damn sighing, you aren't getting anything, missy!

7. When Mommy asks you to clean your room, that really means:

a. clean your room
b. get out what toys were still put away, pull all the books from the bookcase, strip the beds of sheets and run around naked screaming at the top of your lungs**
c. go outside
d. throw yourself on the floor and cry, "I want my Daddy!"

8. If you see Mommy digging around in her purse and then taking those little white pills, you should immediately:

a. lower your voice about 12,000 decibels
b. Sit down on your bed with a book and your hands folded nicely in your lap
c. PRAY
d. all of the above
e. throw yourself on the floor and cry, "I want my Daddy"

9. When Mommy is on the phone you should interrupt her:

a. only if you are on fire or bleeding from your eyeballs.
b. whenever a thought enters your brain, regardless of how inane or relevant it is
c. ceaselessly.

10. Bedtime is:

a. no later than 8:30, no exceptions.
b. the best time to remember that one last homework assignment or thing you HAVE to have for school tomorrow or you will be in really big trouble.
c. an ideal time to play "jump out of bed as many times as you possibly can and poke your brother"
d. always the right time to throw yourself on the floor and cry, "I want my Daddy" (are you sensing a theme here?)

ESSAY: Daddy will be home in eight days and then you will get to see how "wonderful" things are when he is here. What, exactly, is it that you think that you will get way with while he is here that you haven't with me? Discuss.

**I SO wish that I was kidding about or exaggerating this particular event

Friday, February 10, 2006

More Batshit Crazy Fun!

She speaks!!! And I quote(you can also see this in the comment section of the last post if you like, I have no plans to delete it):

In all honesty, I have no interest in your "Candyland". I played this in 1st grade and have no need to continue. The only reason I went on was to see your rambling post about me and it was gone. As for the 2 hours, wrongly mistaken. I was away from my office for a meeting and it was left on.

As for me being crazy, yes I am pissed but not crazy. Your husband decides to infilitrate my family and impose himself in my last two vacations and you don't think I have a right to be pissed?? Get out of Candyland and come back to reality.

All my love,

"Batshit Crazy Sister"

PS: I love my new nickname "


Well, Batshit Crazy Sister, that's all fine and good. But it's not entirely truthful now, is it?? See, not only can I see how long you were on my site, I can see what you were doing and where exactly you went for the two hours you were there. So let's take a look, shall we??


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9th February 2006
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9th February 2006
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9th February 2006
04:34:40 PM
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9th February 2006
04:35:09 PM
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9th February 2006
04:35:18 PM
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9th February 2006
04:35:35 PM
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9th February 2006
04:35:59 PM
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9th February 2006
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9th February 2006
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I understand that this is lengthy, and I apologize to any of my other readers that think that this is overkill, but these are all of the pages visited and all of the blog searches used looking for the post you were trying to find yesterday in the two hours you were here. So, no, you didn't leave your computer on my page and then go to a meeting. Care to advise on reality again, dear?

Since I am nice, I left off the part of the page that had your IP address and place of work, because, trust me, people will be begging me for it. The funny thing about that other post is that I didn't ramble on about you. You got one mention. Really only half a mention, because I just wanted you (and Chester) to stop calling here. But look at you now!! You're famous!! Lucky you.


But, honey, I live and breathe reality. And my reality is that I am focusing on MY life and my marriage and not worrying about other people's. I call my world Candyland not because it is a fantasy, but because all things considered, I have a pretty sweet life. I have sweet, beautiful, healthy children and a sweet wonderful husband who loves me. Just for the record, (once again) my marriage is happier and healthier than it has been in a long, long time.

So you can worry about somone else's life. We are fine here. This is the last you will see of your batshit crazy self on my blog. This place is about me & my family. Not about you and your sad, messed up, dysfunctional life.

PS I'm glad you like your new name. Of the three nicknames, it was my favorite! And obviously, it suits you.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

Attention Batshit Crazy Sister

I saw you here earlier today. I know you were on for half an hour (no, wait! You came back! Now it was a total of over two hours!) and that you were at work all the while. I know what post you are looking for but you won't find it. For reasons that are really none of your business, that particular post has been taken down. It has not, however, been destroyed. If you would like a copy of the post, feel free to email me and I will gladly send you a copy of it.

Watch what you say, though. I reserve the right to publish any nasty comments right here on my website.

All my love,

Sugar Mommy