Saturday, December 13, 2008

I'm moving in with Alexander.

I have had it.

This is the second time I am writing this post, because my internet connection randomly turns on and off.

I am sick with about the 18th cold/flu of the fall and winter season. My nose is literally dripping snot too quickly to keep up. My head hurts from sinus congestion and I can't sleep at night. I am sick of being sick.

My kids won't help with even the most rudimentary and expected tasks - they'd rather their punishments than contribute. They don't wish to think ahead of doing anything, and are thus, followed by a series of minor (and not so minor) disasters. In the past several days, they have spilled cereal all over the floor and/or table at least three times because they were balancing it on the milk jug. They have spilled molasses all over the counter because they were trying to "help" me make cookies for the stupid cookie exchange (that I'd enjoy if my head weren't splitting). This morning, they spilled about a pint of maple syrup all over the kitchen.

They would rather be punished than help around the house - even the most basic tasks. One child would rather sit on the stairs than take the recycling to the garage. He'd also prefer to pay $3 than clear his breakfast dish. This is the same breakfast dish that was still completely full of cereal that he poured, than changed his mind. The kids wastes more food than some children get. The other left the laundry he was supposed to gather all over the house. While gathering the laundry, I found an unflushed poo, and that all of the bedding had been pulled off of the youngest's bed.

There is glitter every-effing-where in the house.

Someone (it isn't clear who, there is apparently a bad case of amnesia going around) broke a shower stall in our guest bathroom this morning.

The shower stall isn't the only part of our house that is falling apart. The columns in front of our house are rotting. Actually most of our external woodwork is rotting (window sills and door jams); I don't think that they were actually constructed of outdoor materials. There is a hole in the drywall. In our kitchen, the refrigerator is on strike - refusing to make ice or serve water, the hood is falling down, and our cabinets are falling off the wall so dramatically I've had to "store" all of our china on the dining room table. That is, when the kids aren't toting the china pieces around like they are toys. The arm is falling off of my favorite chair, threatening to dump me at any moment. The laundry sink drips, the dryer hose disconnected from the wall. Both of these little foibles will require both of us (and NO KIDS) to fix. You'd think we live in a colonial-era house or something, but it was built in 1996.

Our greedy, entitled kids want every other thing in every toy catalog we receive. Their desire increases with the likelihood of calamity or the number of breakable parts. This, from the kids that made indoor RC helicopters last less than two hours each. I think I'll give them a shower door for Christmas; those fuckers run about $400.

My grades are due on the 22nd and I have a final to give as late as the 2oth (yes, Saturday). I have a mountain of crappy papers to read between now and then.

Our post-Christmas trip was cancelled. Instead of going to the tropics, I am looking at two straight weeks in our broken house with two restless boys when I should be preparing my two new courses.

I think I'm going to move the kids to a barn so, when they leave the doors open (and let more stinkbugs in) they can say "why yes, we do live in a barn".

Christmas this year, ideally, would allow me to tuck in with some good food, some tea and a nice book. Quiet and peaceful. I don't care about decorations, socializing, fancy food, parties, shopping, buying more crap, or holiday spirit. I just want a few moments of peace.

Then, I'm going to move to Australia.


Brad said...

Maybe spending a day at a homeless shelter or soup kitchen would change some attitudes? Or the punishment shouldn't be *not* doing something, but maybe adding to a list of things that now have to be done before he can play?

Shucks, I don't know. I just hope it gets better for you.

richgold said...

Here here on the some peace and quiet.

A girlfriend with four girls tells me it's a stage. My MIL tells me it's a stage.

I'd like to draw the curtain on the stage. I think you might feel the same way.

Brad's got an idea, but then, you'd be responsible for taking then there and dealing with teaching them the lesson. Where is the down time for you in all of this?

If it helps, you're not alone. That's why I like reading your blog. It's helpful to see someone else is going through this too.

Anonymous said...

The thing is... B honestly never means to be destructive. He is a very hard kid and a very big kid. Five year olds aren't known for a lot of forethought. But, five and 65 pounds and over four-feet tall... that's just a lot of kid throwing himself around.

It is also too young to be "helpful" at a shelter or a soup kitchen. But, that is a great idea.

Sorry to be anonymous on my own blog... my office computer doesn't like blogger.