Narcograndma? That's funny hops.
Here are some highlights of my weekend, and a response to Hops and Lighter.
Hops, I've contacted some support groups, but I haven't been to any meetings yet. I just seem to have so much stuff to do, and there's no time to do everything. I'm trying to unpack, keep up with normal day to day things, be mom, and I just don't have time for everything. I get so overwhelmed, and it doesn't help when I don't get enough sleep. That just makes me testy and crabby too.
Lighter, what you say is so true, so very true.
So here's the weekend highlights:
Saturday evening, my Harry Potter book finally arrived, and I dove right in. M and I were getting along pretty good. The place was totally trashed, and I didn't care. I was going to clean it up on Sunday, make it look nice. Put the rest of the books away, etc. I hadn't felt good Saturday, and I ended up staying up way to late reading Harry.
Sunday morning, I'd planned to go to the flea market so I could talk to my dad. I really like going to the flea market and buying junk even though I don't need anymore stuff. I was running late though, and I'd had four hours of sleep. I was tired and I almost shucked it. I'd decided to leave M at Grandma's so I could talk to my dad. My mom called just before we left to tell me that she had to take my father his keys because he'd locked himself out of the car. I'd almost decided just to take M with me, but I stuck with my original plan. I took the dog with me, so he could run on the farm and roll and eat nasty stuff.
The talk with my dad was pretty anti-climatic, pretty much, I can't do anything until my lawyer contacts me, and if he doesn't contact me, then I may fire him. I was pretty disappointed really. I did mention that I'd found out the bank the collection agency is trying to collect for no longer exists. The account is out of the statute of limitations for collection in my state, and the creditor is known for shady practices. Do I think I'm going to get out of this unscathed, not llikely.
So afterward, I went out to my parents house. I wanted to get more of my stuff, and M wanted stuff too. I have clothes and shoes in my closet now, although it's also full of boxes. I haven't started unpacking those yet. Here's a short list of my mother's comments to me while I was there.
"You think more of that dog than your kid."
"You don't ever talk to me anymore."
"You never told me he wasn't going to camp this week." (I did, three times, which I told her, because she had even made comments about him being there with her.)
"M is awfully distant."
"He's turned into a city kid."
"He's getting so bad. He just gets worse and worse." (Referring to behavior)
"Why didn't you tell us you had to work we would have come and got him." (I found out I had to work late, it was for a short time, and M was fine. I hadn't planned to tell her about this, but M spilled the beans).
"I knew you were going to have a problem with that dog."
There was more, those were just the really good ones. The first one is a killer. I wasn't frazzeled when we left. I'd made the most of the trip and enjoyed what I could, including the dog rolling in something gross. We went home and had a quick lunch, not a bought lunch, just something easy to fix. I started the laundry, did some cleaning, sat down to read some more. By this time, exhaustion crept up on me, and my temper was really short.
M caught the worst. I took the TV away after I told him for the fourth time to pick up his things in the living room and tidy up his room. He was mad. I started unloading the car, and he wouldn't help, even though most of the things were his. I was mad by now. He finally decided to help after I pretty much had the car unloaded. I told him to get his stuff put away. He pouted. I was still fuming. I had an even bigger mess now, and worst of all, I knew my mother would be coming down today to bring M back, so she would be in my house, making comments.
I hadn't gotten anything done, except the laundry and Harry of course.
It was too much. I just sagged in the middle of the floor. M and I were both upset at this point. He said it was all his fault that I was upset. I told him it wasn't, that it was mine because I was trying to do too much. I said let's go, go do something. We went to Big Lots to get some more hangers for the laundry and some other things. We forgot to turn the TV on so the dog barked. We came home to another note.
At that point, I was just demoralized. The place was still a mess, the dog had been naughty, I was exhausted. I fixed M something to eat and took the naughty dog for a walk. Talked to my mother again who wanted me to let M sleep late.
Talked to my brother and lost it on the phone because of all the crap I had heard that I'd managed to not let get to me in th emorning, but by the end of the day had gotten to me. I felt a little better afterwards. I picked up some of the mess, sent M to take a bath, I'd given him the TV back for the evening, mostly because I hated the silence, and he didn't even argue when I said it was mine after an hour. I made him get ready for bed at 9:30. He was out by 10.
The dog and I went to bed to read more of Harry. I'd managed to get the living room a little more presentable, the stacks of books out of the way and the kitchen picked up.
I ended up going to bed late, mostly because I wanted to read. Got up this morning and read some more over breakfast.
I still have about thirty pages left.
