My bad mood started with a knee wrinkle.
Ok, that's not entirely true but it's a good place to start. I have a brand spankin' new knee wrinkle and I am pissed. No matter what anyone says I know for a fact that it is all God's doing even if he doesn't cop to it and he and I will be having a little tête-à-tête about this soon. Of course I understand that in his eyes these wrinkle episodes may seem like an appropriate punishment for my lack of patience with my children and husband, but I beg to differ. A new wrinkle this close to my 20th high school reunion is hitting waaayy below the belt and I would expect a more civilized "Get your act together Sister" warning from the man upstairs. Guess no one takes into account that my Mommy Freak-Outs were preceded by 6 hours of Annie whining, countless times of telling Carl to leave Annie alone and my husband just walking around completely ignoring the Armageddon that is our lives. Do I not deserve some medal for dealing with this? It's like 1,000 times of asking the kids to Please pick up their toys and Please brush teeth because we are running late and Please to my husband to quit sneaking off somewhere I can't find him and boss him around. You know sometimes a girl just snaps and then it's like "For the love of GOD would you PLEASE help me do ...." and you know what happens once you say God! All kinds of trouble. His freaking beeper goes off and you get caught screaming in a not very nice fashion and all crazy eyed. Using all your bad words and threatening to divorce your husband before 8 am? BAM you have another wrinkle and BAM you stub your toe and BAM you walk out of the house with your zipper down wearing your bright purple "in an emergency/back of the drawer" undies. Fella doesn't play around. This doesn't happen to you?
Well .... aren't you something special.
I am not an easy going Mommy, never have been and I don't foresee me becoming one in the near future. So many nights I have stayed awake just thinking of ways I could have and should have handled a situation better, telling myself that next time I will do things differently. My issues are no more unusual than what any other parent deals with on a daily basis (well I hope not or my kids are worse than I thought) and they aren't bad kids; unfortunately they are dealing with a mother who tends to go a little bat shit crazy sometimes. That's the breaks kids. Sorry
Another possible reason for my dark mood cloud is that it's bathing suit season again which is another doozer towards my self image. Nothing makes you want to jump off a freaking bridge more than standing in front of an unforgiving mirror with bright ass lights glaring down on you, sweating like a freak, praying, crying and swearing while you try and shove your "womanly body" into something a devil of a man who hates women designed. Have no idea what I'm talking about? This never happens to you? Go suck an egg.
So there I stand in the bathing suit section that offers suits that are "supposed" to suck in all your squishes and heck if they aren't all the same as the other skinny people suits across the aisle, but are just $40.00 bucks more. I grab several styles, telling myself that THIS will be the year I find something un-grannyish that will showcase my "curves" all the boys are supposed to love (HA) and I will be happy and everything will be rainbows and unicorns and joyous, I will myself to try them on. In route to the dressing rooms/torture chamber I call up to God and apologize for disturbing him during his Margarita hour (my God likes his on the rocks with salt like me) but to pretty pretty please with sugar on top have some mercy on me. Instead it ends in another session of me leaving them all in the dressing room in total disarray and spending the rest of my bathing suit-less drive home threatening to begin a bathing suit line as soon as I invent a society-acceptable shock collar for my kids. Hey, a girl can dream.
So for now the plan is to be on my very bestest behavior and not eat a thing until the end of June lest I act up again and wind up with a wrinkle right in between my eyes. One of two things are going to happen before then. #1- I will wear the bathing suit I finally got over my thighs to my high school reunion with my shiny new knee wrinkle OR #2 - I'll be skipping that reunion and instead taking a case of beer with me to the dressing room to sneer at all the skinny girls that walk by. Who wants to come with?
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