Curiousity Killed the Cat!!!
What happens when you...
put potato flakes...
in the microwave with no liquid?
WARNING! Do not attempt this at home.
The chronicled details of the one goings in my world and thoughts... Or more simply put...My life as ME
What happens when you...
I am so angry and tired. Little brother is getting on my last nerve, and everyone else is ok with that. Everytime I get baby boy on the way to going to sleep, or sleep. Someone has to wake him up. This makes me furious, and then they all say "calm down" or "its ok". Well NO its not ok. How would you like it if everytime you got to sleep, someone was yelling, or slamming doors or talking and waking you up? Would you not be upset by that? As his mother, its even more frustrating. Why am I even writting this you ask, because its not like they read it to know what I am feeling. Day after day, I let things roll off my back, hold back my tears and listen to all their problems while holding in my own. They expect me to be ok with this as a daily occurance. When I do have legitimate concerns, they are brushed aside. Like, asking my brother to watch Baby boy for a while and him letting him fall off the bed or chair twice in two days. Nobody seems to care. Or when I feel the need to talk about baby boy's father, everyone puts in their two cents and I don't get to talk. I'm told to be thinking of what I am going to do with my life, with the only options givin to me get a job, or go to school. I have said it at least ten times already. I don't want to go back to school. And the only reason why I don't have a job is because I am staying home with Baby boy. Not for being lazy but for being a mother to him. I don't want him closer to the nursery worker than he is with me, and I don't want to miss out on the precious things he is doing. I don't think Baby boy should have to sacrifice his time with his mother. And knowing that I spend all day with him, I don't get a shower but maybe once a week, my hair feels like its about to fall out my head, my legs are sooooo dry they are cracked and hurt. I smell like breastmilk all the time. When they come home, no one wants to talk, or hold baby boy and ask how our day was. They complain about theirs or about whats for dinner. When they come home and the house is clean, and dinner is cooked they say nothing. But let me not have anything done and the world is coming to an end. I give of my time, and share the things I have with anyone who would ask me. But don't recieve the courtesy of a meangingful conversation, or time taken out to read my journal. So know you understand my tears, my anger and my frustration.
My emotions have been running high since I returned home. I'll tell you why. I have not heard from my father since before Thanksgiving. However, I was left with the promise of I'll call every weekend. The phone number hasn't changed, neither has the e-mail address. And now, I feel like I don't want the phone call, I don't want the inquistive questions on how baby boy and I are doing. Because, truth betold, if he wanted to know he would have called sooner. and no I don't think phone troubles are an excuse. He could walk to a pay phone and call for a mintue or so, you know just to say hey I was thinkin of you and the boys.