It's Not My Fault, I Warned Them

 Yesterday I announced that this week I am full on barking mad. Howling at the moon, talking to tin foil kind of crazy.

This brutal honesty and attempt to be open with my family and share my pain has so far gotten me these responses.

One child announced she couldn't possibly eat the toast I made as it just wasn't crispy enough. I told her to enjoy starvation.  It came out sounding very similar to "You will god damn well eat it or you will god damn well starve!" Obviously that isn't what I said because good mothers never, ever swear at their children.

I returned from basketball to learn that Teddy had covered his hair with red hairspray for his sports carnival that day. I know this not because he told me, but because apparently he forgot and laid his weary head on my light beige microfiber couch. And then proceeded to roll around. I started to stutter and my mouth dropped which Teddy took for me beginning to laugh. Tessi chose that moment to bounce up and down on the exercise bike forcing the seat totally and make a loud *CRACK* sound. The horns and fangs appeared as I proceeded to reign down fire like Hell throwing up. 

I went to bed very early last night.

This morning gives no break in the onslaught.  Just now one daughter decided that I didn't know anything and made her own porridge (oatmeal) for herself. 120 seconds later we had exploded oats and reconstituted strawberries coating the inside of the microwave.

Tonight Ted is working late and so I am on full afternoon and evening kid duty. This means the girls will be out at AFL training for 1 1/2 hours at night in the cold. 

It will be unpleasant. There will be tears. Most of them will be mine.

But I'm gonna make DAMN sure some of them are theirs.

I warned them. I warned them that I am crazy right now. These people have chosen to ignore me. They are the family equivalent of those jerks who go surfing in a hurricane, chase after tornados or shoot a gun at Mongo.

All injuries to feelings, psyche and human flesh are no longer the responsibility of your truly. When you drive by me and I am on the ground furiously rolling around and beating the hell out of one of the girls' school backpacks just walk away. 

I warned them and didn't listen.  They have to learn.