Mommy darling is in charge of kids and ghosts
By DiaryofaMadWoman on May 01, 2012
How in the hell am I going to survive summer? I just keep asking myself this, over and over, and I still have no answer. Right now, we are mildly sane because my two big kids are in school, and the baby goes 3 days a week. In summer, I will not get a break, and I’m fucking freaking out, ya hurd me? Yesterday morning, everyone tried to act sick. I tried to wake up the biggest darling, and he cried and screamed that he had a stomach ache. He was still tired from staying up till 4am at a camp out party Saturday, so I let him sleep in. The smallest darling has an ear infection and cold, so I was feeling guilty for sending him to school. The middle darling was freaked out that everyone else was staying home. But by 8:45 a.m., I myself went into full freak out mode and declared that ‘everyone who is not vomiting, having diarrhea, or fever is going to school right NOW.’ I dressed them in record time and kicked them out the car while it was still moving.But I can’t do that in summer.Me, without breaks, is just not good.I am a selfish person. I love myself. And I totally realize that I’m going to be a mean bitch if I don’t get these kids off of me regularly.
I noticed last week that Dave is learning how to be a better ghost. Good for him. Adonis and I were engaged in a sexy texting battle, and as things started to heat up, the ‘slide to unlock’ for my iphone quit working. Well played hubby, well played. My hands were not wet (get your minds outta the gutter, people), there was no explanation. It just wouldn’t slide all the way to ‘unlock’. I tried at least 10 times with no luck. I finally just laughed out loud and put the phone down. When I picked it up 5 minutes later it worked, so I said out loud, “You are not the boss of me!” and resumed the inappropriate texting. I don’t even know why I say it’s inappropriate. Because being wanted by Adonis is the most appropriate medicine in the world for me right now. So take that, ghost man. I didn’t put me here, you did. And this….this is why I feel he’s fucking with me lately. Because I am, ever so slowly, moving on. Letting go.I’m slowly erasing the tape that has played horrifying messages in my brain for almost 10 solid months. I think of other things now. I can’t even begin to explain how life changingthat is. It’s fucking glorious. And I won’t, not for one millisecond, be sorry for it.
Yesterday there was a brief attack of the grief Ninja…because I stumbled upon some Facebook photos of Dave’s high school friends at a party. I stared intently at his best friend, noticed how his hair has grayed since July, and felt the familiar lump in my throat, the warm tears trickling down, and the tightness in my chest that makes it hard to breathe.I know he misses Dave. And I couldn’t help feel, in that moment, that if I had never come into the picture, that Dave might be alive. He may be dead because of me. In my heart I know it’s not true, and it my heart I know it might be true. I don’t dare give the latter too much thought, or power. There is no more analyzing to be done. I’ve done it all, done all a person can do. The end result, based on the judge and jury in my head, is not guilty. There can be no appeals.
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