Thursday, October 28, 2010

It's Not Even The Holidays Yet...WTF?!?

Tonight Fred looked at me and said, "I want to move to a remote cabin surrounded by lots of trees, and it needs to be a place where our families will never find us". I could not agree more!

There is a birthday family celebration coming up on Fred's side of the family. A noteworthy celebration, of course, but not one that I would make me think, "Hey self, you should get in there and make some crazy plans for this!" Which is precisely WHY I've been tending to my own shit laying low. Well, at least I was trying to lay low until the standard "Mertz Delegation of Duties" got fully underway...and this is how it went down.

Lorraine (Fred's grandmonster) called George (Fred's father) and said, "Have you decided what we're [you're] going to do for Poindexter's birthday this year? We [you] need to do something nice - he does alot for the family, you know."

George responded, "Well, I haven't really given it much thought, but maybe Fred and Ethel would be able to throw something together for the occasion. I'll call Ethel and see what she can get done."

So my question is this: HOW THE FUCK DID THIS BECOME MY PROBLEM?!? And how do I go about messing this event up so exponentially that I don't get asked to pull awesome-daughter-in-law duty again for a long, long, LONG time?  George is a huge pain in my ass.

Moving on.

The holiday season hasn't even officially begun, and already I feel like January can't get here fast enough!  Will someone please pass the vodka, and make it SNAPPY!?

Gripe #1 - One of my siblings made flight arrangements without checking with anyone first, and will be here (in town) for TWO FULL WEEKS. She's great. She's awesome. BUT she's also going to want to get out and do things, and I have to WORK!!!

Gripe #2 - We will celebrate Thanksgiving TWICE this year. This is as a result of the fact that one of my other sibs has a nut-muncher of a significant other, and my sib wants to do Thanksgiving with normal people our side of the family BEFORE going to spend the actual holiday with the nut-muncher's family. Not a HUGE issue, but according to Marie Claire's bitch of a columnist, Maura Kelly, I am well on my way to making her feel sick when she looks at the likes of me after stuffing my gullet not just once, but twice, on traditional Thanksgiving fare. FUCK HER!

Gripe #3 - Christmas is going to be at my house this year. BOTH sides of the insane asylum family are invited, and it's a safe bet that Josephine (the grandmonster) will be her naturally bitchy, rude self. Oh, how I am looking forward to hearing her snide comments.

Gripe #4 - Fred and I had wanted to just go someplace ELSE for the holidays this year and leave all of the other degenerates behind, but we made the mistake of telling a couple of other family members....and VIOLA! It became a trip to hell with all of the weirdo knuckle-draggers in tow.  Needless to say, we decided to cancel that nightmare and not pass "GO" or collect $200.  Somethings just aren't worth it, ya know?

So that's where we stand. I haven't gone completely nuts, but I am on my second bottle of wine tonight. Fred put a trashcan by the bed and I wrote out checks for the kids to buy their lunches tomorrow instead of having to make them while being super hung over and all.

Please tell me that I'm not the only one with holiday drama brewing on the horizon?!


Monday, October 25, 2010

Bullying- Part 1

Bullying has been making the news a lot lately.  Something needs to be done when children are taking their lives because of bullying.  The adults in their lives are failing them.  There are many people who were bullied as children that grow up and say that it made them stronger as adults.  That may be so, but I guarantee you it still affects them today.

Even though it happened when I was 9, which was 29 years ago, every detail is still vivid in my memory.  The recollection brings that same anxious, panicked feeling making me want to cry, to refrain from crying for fear of the teasing getting worse, to hide...

I grew up in a rural area in the south.  I attended school in one small town through first grade and moved to a neighboring town and started second grade in the new school.  I didn't know anyone in my new school, but quickly made a couple of friends.  There were two girls in my grade that were in another class.  I recognized their faces from seeing them around, but I didn't even know their names.  And then one day on the playground, I was sitting with my new friend as we did every day talking and giggling under one of the many oak trees on the playground.

I still remember the smell of hot, humid, wet, dirt mixed with pine that hung heavy in the air.  We were oblivious to what was going on around us as we sat and drew pictures and word games in the sand as the tree shaded us from that gulf coastal heat.  And then I heard it,  in a laughing, sing-song, happy voice, "[Lu-cy] is a ba-by!  [Lu-cy] wears dia-pers!"  It was those two girls.  I barely knew them and I had no idea what I had done to anger them.  One was sitting on the other's shoulders and they were skipping and dancing around the tree singing that I was a baby.  That I peed my pants.  That I wore diapers.

I was completely confused.. I had no idea they even knew my name or why they were targeting me.  My friend just sat there quietly.  Probably afraid that if she said anything or drew attention to herself that they would target her too.  This was my first experience with bullying.  My innocence had been taken from me. Until that point, everyone had always been nice to me and I didn't know this could happen.  I immediately began to wonder what *I* had done.  What was wrong with *me*?  What made me inferior to them?

"Don't cry."  I told myself as I could feel the sting, shock and hurt welling up inside me.  I wanted my mother... I wanted her to fix it and make them stop.  I wished someone... anyone would make them stop!  Where was the teacher?  And then I began to beat myself up... if I was ready to cry and wanted my mother, then I MUST be a baby!  No wonder.  " Don't cry, [Lucy]!  It will only make it worse."

And I began to laugh like it was the funniest joke I had ever heard.  I hoped they would move on, but they didn't.  Others thought it was hilarious and began singing the song too.  I continued to laugh and then I looked down and saw the first tears pool in the dirt.  I couldn't stop it.  I was crying. Sobbing.

Recess was over and I went inside, thankfully, to a different classroom than those girls, but that wasn't the end.  Because I was invited to a slumber party and so were they.


** I feel like a coward posting this on an anonymous blog, but I graduated from that same small school and people that went to school with me read my personal blog... I still feel shame over this, even though the adult in me knows it was not my fault.  I'm embarrassed it happened to me and I don't want to discuss it publicly under my identity.  

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Won't My Mommy Be So Proud of Me?

About thirty seconds after Mama Kat emailed out this week's writing prompts, my cell started ringing. Ethel was calling me to tell me to check my email and pay specific regard to prompt #3- Why I'm not inviting my mother to read my blog. We laughed.. hysterically.

You see... this prompt has our names written all over it! For crying out loud, we started a whole anonymous blog so our mothers wouldn't read it! But the question seems a bit more specific- so the reasons I, Lucy, am not inviting my mother (or any other family member for that matter) to read this blog:

My sister is bat-shit crazy. Not in the I-like-to-say-my-slightly-quirky-family-member-that-does-quirky-annoying-things-is-crazy sort of way, but in the I'm-pretty-sure-if-she-would-drag-her-crazy-ass-into-a-professional's-office-she's-be-certifiable crazy. And you just can't have that kind of front row seat to crazy and not share some of the stories.

Because my sister-in-law and my sister should be twins- despite there being a twenty-eight year difference in their ages, they act identical. Add to that the fact that my in-laws absolutely loathe me.. and that's material too! Double my blessings in the crazy department. Who's a lucky girl? I AM!

Then there is the fact that my mother is a bit nutsy too! She holds a grudge- and carries out her revenge with the conviction and maturity of a pre-teen girl. Either I am the only sane one or I am just as delusional as the rest of them. Either way- win for you, the reader!

There are so many more reasons that will just have to unfold within the confines and secrecy of this blog, but I have to leave some space for Ethel to tell us why she doesn't want her mother to read this blog.

The reason why I, Ethel, will not EVER be inviting my mother to read this blog is because:
  1. I would like for my mother to continue wearing her rose colored glasses. She's a good person who loves others and tries to see the best in them, above all else. I fall short on this order and tend to see things in a more literal, sometimes a tad cynical, light.
  2. Family relationships and friendships, where honesty IS NOT the best policy, would probably never recover.
  3. Mother wouldn't handle it well if I told her that her sister is a narcissistic narrow minded ballbuster who only sees the world one way - HER WAY.  After the last few times that we've been in close company with she and her offspring, it's safe to state that I will ONLY spend time with that branch of the Truman family again if there is an absolute emergency, a family crisis, or I have a planned escape route.  It's just not worth it anymore.
  4. My mother is sympathetic, to a fault, regarding my loser sister, Samantha.  Sam lives her life like an aimless adult child.  It goes without saying that she has children of her own, doesn't work at all, floats from man to man, has a substance abuse problem, and STILL manages to prey on my mother's sympathy.  WTF?!?  This is where I proudly wear my snobby-unfeeling-judgemental-bitch-of-a-sister name tag.  
Some things are better left alone and unacknowledged by certain eyes.

So, there you have it, folks- the very reasons we started this blog and proof to you, the reader, that we have loads of material to keep this blog going for quite some time....or eternity, which ever comes first.  And we would also like to take this opportunity to tell you that if your Mom does read your blog, but you have something you need to post about that you fear might not be Mom-approved, feel free to shoot us an email and you can guest post for us.  If you are brave, we can identify you and link to your blog, or if you truly need an anonymous platform for your rant, we will keep your identity totally under wraps.

We love to dish the dirt, but we can also keep a secret.

~Lucy and Ethel

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Toy Hoarding, Rough Play, and Daisy

We have a neighbor that drives me FUCKING NUTS.  Daisy can be as sweet as pie one minute, and as irritating as hemroids on a hot August day the next.  She's just that way.  She is the mother of two heathens that we will further refer to as "Frick" and "Frack".  Frick, the older child, is slightly more tollerable than his little bastard brother Frack, but they are both a pain in my neck.

Since they moved onto my turf our street, a case of excessive tutelary toy hoarding has surfaced.  Because she is so obsessive about their things not getting broken, she will have her boys take their things inside rather than keep them out for others to play with and risk damage to their belongings.  Daisy fusses and gets her panties in a bunch when her kids' toys get torn up, a Nerf gun bullet goes unaccounted for, or someone rides her boy's bikes a little too rough.  This isn't just a one sided deal, though!  We've ALL sacrificed toys for the good of group play, and most times the toys aren't broken intentionally.

News flash to Daisy...KIDS TEAR SHIT UP, and yours are not blameless!

Example #1:  Frick came out to play with my youngest's brand new RC car that he got for his birthday.  Frick decided that he wanted to KEEP the RC vehicle as his own.  Frick was told that he had to hand it back to my son, and then Frick proceeded to pull the antenna right out of the car, rendering it useless.  

Example:  Frack scratched Fred's precious foreign import vehicle because Frack's mother wasn't paying attention when he went into our garage, unattended, with a long stick of some sort and managed to scratch the car coming and going.  Grrrr.

Example #3:  Fred installed special valves on our outside water faucets because Frack will come over to our house, turn on the water, and LEAVE while the water is still running.  Now the little pecker has figured out how to maneuver the special valves, so I have to watch him when he's in our yard again...because his mother DOESN'T.  Shocker.

Example #4:  Frick plays full contact sports.  The fun part comes when their dumbass mom doesn't scold them for "playing" full contact with the other kids on the block who are not trained in such sports...  So the other kids end up getting hurt, and Daisy's brilliant response is...are you ready?...  "Well that's what he's been trained to do."  Holy.  Shit.

I wish that these kids had been blessed with two sensible parents.  Parents that had half the sense that God gave a billy goat.  Billy goats aren't that smart, so you get my drift.  And one of these days, I hope that they can stand back and see WHY the other parents on the street try their best to keep interaction as limited as possible with their family.