Monday, June 13, 2011

Bouncy Balls are the Devil's Work

Today it is nice out.  I've Facebooked this, I've Twittered this and now I'm posting about it.  I used to mock those affected by the weather.  I thought they were weak and just looking for another excuse to be miserable.  But after the Spring we've had?  I'm right there with them. I should be outside right now.  It's sunshine-y and warm.  People have already cut their grass so there is that good freshly cut grass smell happening.  Yet instead, I'm sitting in front of my computer trapped in the Internet.

My four year old is re-energized and recharged by the sun as well, apparently.  There is a lot of talking this morning.  Chants of "Come & Find Me!"  while his little pajama clad butt is in plain site under a chair.  The bouncy ball is bouncing.  Literally.  My 7 year old went to a birthday party yesterday and in the treat bag was one of those godforsaken little rubber bouncy balls.  My stomach is clenching at the thought of it.  Who the fuck invented those things?  And am I the only mother who wishes they would cease all production?  I must be because those stupid little things are a regular treat bag item.  I've been guilty of it myself in the past but after four kids, I've finally caught on.  It's not nice to give those to other people's children.  I hate them so there has to be another parent or two who wishes for a sweet shot of heroin or momentarily turns into Mommy Dearest when one of those little demons starts bouncing.

He is distracted by the Wii now.  I need to get him outside as well.  I still need to shower.  Do the dishes.  Do some yard work. Do some actual work.  We are currently looking for a new trailer so am supposed to making a trip into Regina this afternoon to look at a couple with my husband. 

The rest of the week is going to be partly cloudy and raining off and on.  So why aren't I outside yet?  Meh.  I'm enjoying the semi-quiet.  There is only one child here right now.  The dogs are partaking of their morning nap.  Even the cat is quiet.  I'm mostly undisturbed now that the bouncy ball has been laid to rest.
How did I manage that?

Went on a small tirade about how said 4 year old was driving me nuts with the bouncy ball.  I used a funny voice to not frighten him or make him feel bad.  He giggled.  Then my husband called and when he asked me what I was doing I made some comments about trying not to jump off the deep end and explained this was partly due to the bouncing ball.

After I hung up the phone?  Rhett said: "I'm sorry I was driving you nuts with the bouncy ball." And I?  Felt like an asshole.  I told him it was okay and we both carried on.

I wrote a post about PMS at least a week ago but I don't know how long I can blame my current mostly agitated state on it.  I became incredibly annoyed at a couple in Wal-Mart yesterday.  At the McDonald's located in the Wal-Mart.  So why I was expecting anything less than inane behaviour or below average intelligence is beyond me.  And yes, I realize I was right there with them so that doesn't say a lot about me either.  Whatever.  We had half an hour to kill until the 'salon' (First Choice Haircutters likely does not qualify as a salon but it's not a barber shop either...) opened so my 7 year old could get a hair cut.  He was beginning to look suspiciously like an orphan out of a Dickens' novel but I fear he felt it was something more akin to Justin Bieber.  How do I know this?  He tossed his hair the other day and wanted me to see how his bangs 'moved'.

The child has the straightest hair in the free world. No body, no movement but he clearly longs for Bieber-like locks.  So sad.

Anyway, the big dumb ass in front of me, at McDonald's, accompanied by his wife with her hair in a beige 'scrunchie' were ordering drinks.  They had quite the discussion about how many drinks they would get, if the youngest child (I presume) should get a drink and so on.  This was done loudly and the man laughed after everything he said.  He also knew one of the employees there so I think was feeling pretty good about this as well.  Lots of "witty" banter was exchanged between he and the fry cook.  She left to tend to the young'uns, where ever they were, and he ordered "One large Coke, two regular Cokes & a small Coke."  Okay, easy enough.  Then as the girl began filling the drinks, he said the following: "The large Coke is a Sprite".  Alright-y then.  She didn't bat an eye and proceeded to get the man his large Coke/Sprite.

I wanted to push his face in.

Perhaps a strong reaction?  In my defence, it was about a half an hour after this that my day fell apart and I struggled with light-headed-ness and nausea for the rest of the day so maybe the misdirected rage was an early symptom?  Is intolerance of stupidity a symptom of anything but PMS?  In my world it is.  Actually, I think it may be a character trait.  Until I do or say something stupid and then it's very funny.

I'm nothing if not balanced.

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