Barking Mad

I'm Not Angry...I'm Just a Bitch

 

The last several days have been a monumental clusterfuck of attitude, ignorance, lack of respect, lack of internet (thanks Comcast! You are on my SUCKIT list too!), shit (both literal and figurative - Geronimo had a rotten tummy - crapped all over himself and got a bath; as a result of said bath, I am now sporting some nifty slices and dices along my arms.), and yelling and screaming with a few threats to kick a certain teenager out of the asylum...it all adds up to one big heaping plate of stress. All of this with only 6 days left until Meg leaves for boot camp.

I'd really love nothing more than to just flush the last six or seven days down the toilet!

Oh and did I mention that I stopped taking my anti-depressant?  No? Well, guess what, I did.  I was beginning to feel better, emotionally anyhow, and I thought to myself, "Self, lets stop taking this expensive little pill, because you're feeling better and we don't need it any more!"  My head-shrinker was on holiday and I'd mention it to her when she got back...surely it wouldn't be that big a deal?  So, voila, just like that I stopped taking them and away went my feelings of well being and with it, the last remaining shards of my sanity.  Oh wait, one of the resident teenagers ran off with some of that as well.

Then we come to The Pumpkin.  How can a pumpkin possibly be construed as something stressful?  It is, after all, just a pumpkin.

After you read this, you're going to think I've completely lost it.  Maybe.

So, when is a pumpkin, carved into a Jack O' Lantern and given to a three-year-old, much more than just a nice gesture?  When it's given to said three year old by a person whom the three year old's mother wants nothing to do with and wants her influence clearly out of reach of the three year old.   Did that make any sense?

Remember this post?  Yeah the same one that's now made me one of the most hated mom's in Maine? The one that's gotten one of our cars vandalized, been the impetus for numerous threatening and harassing phone calls as well as emails (some of you imbeciles out there need to learn how to use an onion router and not try and cover your IP with hidemyass.com!), and caused me to laugh hysterically as teenagers drive by my house and flip me off...Well, the "Young Lady" I referred to in that post, carved a Jack O' Lantern for Gaby yesterday and Meg brought it home with her when "Young Lady" dropped her off after spending some time with her in order to say goodbye before Meg leaves for boot camp.  Before I had a chance to protest, Meg had whisked Gaby outside to show it to her and make sure she knew exactly who it was from. 

Needless to say, Gareth was pissed.   He expressed his displeasure with Meg who, in reply told him that the Young Lady was probably pulled over crying somewhere because she couldn't say hello to Gaby and give it to her personally.  My own reply to that is something along the lines of, "Because your mother is a big fat bitch and wants to limit your little sister's exposure to people she has issues with, a fact you are well aware of, I really don't care if the Young Lady was parked at the end of our street crying her eyes out!"  Yes gentle readers, I am as heartless and cruel as it appears and ya know what, I don't give a shit what anyone thinks.  The gesture was completely inappropriate and Gareth and I will not have Gaby used as a pawn in anyone's game. 

If you are sitting there with your mouth agape and in shock that I could be pissed off over something as innocent as a Jack O'Lantern, well, that's OK.  You might be cool with a gesture like that, to your toddler, from someone who you want your child to have absolutely nothing to do with.  Me?  Not so much.  If the shoes were switched, I'd have steered clear of doing anything like that, especially knowing how the toddler's mother feels.  What's the point in doing it, other than to play games and try and ingratiate yourself in the eyes of a three year old? Whilst I don't begrudge Meg her friends, especially those she is very close to, as she is to the Young Lady; Meg is an adult and will do what she will do. However I still have say in who comes and goes, in any manner, in the life of my three year old.

Of course, Meg made it painfully clear to Gaby who the pumpkin was from and now I've got a three year old who is upset with me that she can't see the Young Lady and say thank you.

Now, this little issue of not acknowledging a gift has, I admit, rankled me since last night.  I have always impressed upon my kids that you say thank you...period.  Despite the intent behind the pumpkin, it was still, in the end, a gift, and should be acknowledged.  Gareth and I disagree on this one point. He believes that the intent negates acknowledgment.   We've discussed the issue back and forth and whilst there is still some residual anger over the gesture and aforementioned intent, we have come to an agreement of sorts.  It's more important for us to encourage Gaby to express gratitude over any gift, large or small and to attempt to let go of the anger at the purpose surrounding it.  And, Gaby genuinely loves the pumpkin.  She knows that her mumma hates to gut the damn things and had been planning on bedazzling one this year and calling it good.  Oh yes I was!

So this is our compromise. 

Given that Gaby is learning French in Montessori, we have been asked by her teachers at school to encourage her to use it here at home...so we did.

P.S.  Gareth says this comes across as very angry.  Whilst I'm not as angry as I was last night, I'm still fairly perturbed.  It will pass though.  If I had still been well and truly angry at this point?  Monsieur Pumpkin would have been so much meat for the pumpkin cookies I'm baking tonight.  But now that would have been childish and immature (like a certain segment of you are no doubt thinking this post is...), non?

Words From My Heart, To You

So many times over the last several months, as I have sat in my dark hole and counted the hours until I could crawl back into bed and ignore the world and all the bright, shiny, happy people in it, I have often sought out the words of others to lift me up, make me laugh, remove the focus from the blackness in my own soul, or simply distract me.  Those words have been your words, your thoughts, and most of all, your time.  You've poured so much time and thought into the words you put on your blogs, or the words you leave for me in your comments.  If you take away nothing else from this post, please know that I am eternally grateful for the time you spend leaving me comments or emailing, or even sending a tweet to say hello.  Your words find a place deep within my soul that encourages me to keep reaching and hanging onto and pulling myself back over the edge.

A lot of you have emailed me, wanting to know how the new antidepressant has been working out and how I'm feeling.  Since starting the Lexapro a few weeks ago I've not had any of the nasty side effects I experienced with the others, especially the Zoloft.  I was a tad scared to start it, because once you've had thoughts of sitting in a bathtub, slitting your wrists, watching all of your lifeblood drain away and thinking that your family and friends would be better off without you, and you manage to come back from that perilous edge...you never want to go back there again. 

I also fired my psychiatrist with the help of my psychologist.  We've decided that seeing as how so many of the issues that I have that were precipitated by the Very Bad Thing, and now, as a result have trouble dealing with men, it would be better to not only find someone who had their heads out of their ass, but someone I could trust and felt comfortable with, which leads me to believe that perhaps a female provider might be a better fit for me.  Frankly, Dr. Sweeney Todd/Comb-Over needs to go back to Medical School and study up on MODERN pharmacology! Me bitter? Not at all.  Well, perhaps just a tiny bit.

As far as whether or not the Lexapro is helping?  Well, it's hard to say.  Whilst I'm not sleeping the 16-18 hours a day like I was, I still think I sleep too much.  I'm not as irritable as I was nor am I nearly as weepy and inconsolable.  However, I still don't feel like socially reintegrating myself with the rest of the world. 

The hubby and Little Imp begged me to go apple and pumpkin picking with them this past Sunday, and for an hour, I humoured them until the panic had risen to a point where the hubby said it was like a palpable air around me and he knew it was time to leave.  In a funny sort of way, that was probably a good thing.  A year ago I probably would have picked close to 100lbs of apples instead of the merciful 25lbs we came home with.  I did enjoy seeing the smiles on the Little Imp's face and loved watching her run through the rows and rows of apple trees, who's branches were bending with the weight of their bright red bounty, and listening to her giggle as she pried apple after apple off it's perch on a limb.  Seeing her come running back towards me, blond curls bouncing along with her, and showing me her prizes; lifted a part of my spirit that hasn't been quite so buoyed in a long time.  When we got home though, I broke down in tears and then slept for nearly two hours.  It just came out of nowhere.  It was as confusing to the Little Imp and my hubby as it was to me.

Sunday night I came back out here, after feeling a bit like I was suffering from an emotional hangover and read some of your comments and emails and was once again reassured that whilst it might not be tomorrow, or even next month, or even two months from now, but eventually, I will get through this.  The thing that scares me about then, is that I won't have changed enough into the kind of person that I need to be in order to overcome this.  I'm afraid that if I don't change, I will always see myself as the worthless person I've been led to believe I am.  Deep inside I want to be the strong woman again, who, before all this nastiness happened, could have cared less about what people said or thought about her, the one who pretty much told people to "fuck off" if they didn't like her.

Part of getting back to that woman, is admitting some of my shortcomings, and that's where you, my wonderful and brilliant friends come in. 

I have been remiss in reciprocating the kindness and time you all have shown me over the last several months.  Please know that if you've left a comment, or sent an email, it hasn't gone unnoticed or unappreciated.  More often than not, I come back to those words and am grateful for the feeling and emotion, care and concern behind them.   I'm thankful for those words...words which build up and strengthen and fortify a battered soul.   It's those same words that bring me back out here, day after day, especially when I have come very close these last few days to bringing the blog to an end.  To be honest, it has gotten to be a bit overwhelming and it leaves me feeling a bit unbalanced...trying to recover from everything, complete edits to my book that's coming out, do the laundry, and be whole enough to care for my family.   There are days when I just can't keep up and I can't find the time to read all of the blogs I love and leave comments as thoughtful and heartfelt as the ones you leave me.  I end up feeling like I just want to throw in the towel.   But then, I don't.  And I probably won't because this community of women (and men too!) I've discovered through blogging mean a lot to me, or as Megawatt refers to you all; "mom's little friends in her computer."

You're all much more though, than my "little friends in her computer."  You are real men and women, with real lives and children, spouses and loved ones, jobs, with troubles of your own, complications of your own; yet you find the time to uplift others and share your lives with the rest of us.  Hopefully in time, I'll get around to each and every one of you to let you know how much I enjoy your own words...be it those you leave here at Barking Mad, or those on your own page.  Your contributions to the blogosphere and the people in it don't go unnoticed or unappreciated.  The value you add to our world is immeasurable at times.

Eventually I'll find the balance I'm seeking, to get it all done, and the laundry too! 

A Win and a Discovery

As I sat down Wednesday morning to read my e-mail, all the while trying to maintain a Herculean effort to stay awake, I was pleasantly surprised to find out that I'd won a recent giveaway hosted over at Bird on a Wire. So much for needing any caffeine, which thanks to Roy, has been crossed off my list of guilty pleasures anyhow. 

Now fully wide awake, I clicked back over to Bird's site and confirmed that yes, I was awake and not still dreaming, and I had indeed won the 25th Anniversary Edition Cabbage Patch Doll! Santa will be happy to hear this as that's one more thing he need not bother weighing his sleigh down with!  I decided, seeing as how I was there, I'd take a look around Bird's page as she's done some recent remodeling of her site and associated pages.   I had no idea she had a "Review" site as well and clicked over.

Bird's Eye Views is dedicated to reviewing products geared towards moms, families and kids of all ages.  I was pleased to even find a review of Greenies.  We've been thinking of trying these with Casey as he occasionally suffers from the worst breath imaginable, especially after snacking on chipmunks and moles.  Blech!

If you haven't already been out to Deb's main site, Bird on a Wire, head on over there and be sure to catch the latest from Bird's Eye Views as well!  You won't be sorry you did.

You Have Questions? I THINK I Have Answers!

I was sitting here minding my own business...OK, stop, rewind, backspace!

Who am I kidding?  I was reading someone's blog, that someone inparticular happened to be Big Hair Envy, and she posed all these questions that I think need answering, and having overdosed on caffiene, pizza and a decadent two hour afternoon nap (um yeah, those Frappacino come-downs are harsh!) I think I'm up to the task of answering them.  Well, I'll keep telling myself that and you just keep up now, will ya!

Why don't people use turn signals? Are some vehicles no longer equipped with these handy devices?  Because it's now trendy (the same way that booty shorts with slilettos are trendy - only in someone else's mind) to psych the people out, who are behind them - or waiting to make a left turn in front of them and make them nearly collide in with the non-signaling driver, giving them a heartastroke - or nearly! Fun!

Why do people go through the drive- thru bank line when they don't have their paperwork ready? Shouldn't the teller make them go INSIDE?  Have you seen the inside of those people's cars?  Um yeah, it has that lived in look if you know what I mean.  The tellers won't make them go inside because it means they get to sit there on their big banking butts, that much longer and not have to deal with the walk-in customers.  Banking Brilliance!

Who woke up one morning and decided that the mullet would be a great hairstyle? Why do some people still believe that to be true? Because those same people have a deep held belief in the saying, "Business in the front, party in the back!" and they're also the ones who tend to have a '72 Ford Pinto parked on cement blocks in their front yards.

How does one slice of pizza turn into six pounds on my butt? Hell, consider yourself lucky!  It turns into NINE on mine!

Why can't I read the letters that I am required to type in order to leave bloggy love for my friends in the blogosphere? You, my dear friend, are asking a question as old as Stonehenge itself.  I once tried to answer it only to fail miserably.

Where does the time go? On vacation to Maui.  Or to your hips.  Take your pick.

Why does food have to taste so good? What, you think it should taste like sheep testicles? Well, perhaps if it did I wouldn't have just put another nine pounds on my ass!

How does my cat lick herself like THAT? Probably the same way my damn dog licks himself like THAT!

If I decided NOT to cook dinner one night, would my family starve to death? No, but they may be forced to forage for something in your front yard, or go find some sheep testicles.

Why do my clothes keep shrinking in the dryer? Because they are in collusion with the pizza.  It's a huge conspiracy I tell you!

Why do they grow up SO fast? Well, I'll tell you what, I'll take a pack of pre-teens any day over my non-potty-trained two year old!  You wanna change diapers for the rest of your life?

How can I make a living blogging? Could I quit my day job? Only if your name happens to be Dooce  AKA Heather B. Armstrong.  Of course, if your name also happens to be Black Hockey Jesus and you have aspirations of Dooceness.

Will I EVER meet any of you? Sure!  Come on up to Maine and I'll throw a lobster on the grill for ya!

How do I always manage to pick the slowest line in the grocery store? It's all in your strategy m'dear!  You really need to up your game so you beat those prune-drinkin' grannies (therein probably lies the answer, drink more prune juice, that'll speed things up for sure!) to the checkout.  But be careful, all that prune-induced power can make those geezers wiley!

Why can't I quit work and go to the beach every day? Because your name is not Dooce AKA Heather B. Armstrong or Black Hockey Jesus.   

Is it wrong to tan? Don't be silly!  Of course it's not wrong to tan!  If you didn't you'd be depriving millions of oncologists the world over of much needed income (you know, from taking care of your malignant melanomas) to keep their BMW's out of the repo man's paws and keep their golf club memberships in check.

Does anal retentive have a hyphen? It DOES have a hyphen.  I am, so I should know.

Has Kiefer Sutherland ever been married? That's probably a very good question for Camelia Kath and Kelly Winn...his EX-wives.

When did I become my mother? Probably around the same time I opened my mouth to tell my daughter to, "For the love of all that's holy, turn down that crap you call music!" and my very own mother jumped out of my mouth!

What was so great about Marcia, Marcia, Marcia? Because it's so funny funny funny!

Is it strange that I would still like to become a Marine Biologist? at 42? No more strange than me wanting to become e best-selling author at 39 and 3/4.

Why do I miss my grandmother so much? Still? Probably the same reason I still miss him so much.

Are you still reading this? But of course!

Why? Because I am the mom and I said so, that's why!

What is the purpose of a kelp supplement?  To  produce wonderful kelpy burps to remind you of why you can not quit your job and go to the beach every day.

Now, if you think you can provide some additional answers to these questions, head on over to Big Hair Envy's place and have a whack at it! 

All this thinkin' makes my brain hurt.
 

I Am NOT a Nice Person

According to Steven that is.

Who is "Steven" you ask?   Some dumbass nice fellow who was concerned about a fellow blogger (in response to a shot I took at said blogger) and decided to email me and take it upon himself to call me out on what a meanie I am.

Under normal circumstances I wouldn't share the contents of a personal email I received.  But not only did this make me laugh and laugh and laugh and then fall on the floor laughing some more, I just couldn't get over the fact that someone actually wasted time emailing me about it.  Come to think about it, I've gotten three really bizarre emails lately.  One was asking me for advice.  You're thinking, "You?"  Yeah my reaction was the same.  I was gobsmacked that someone would email a complete stranger and ask for advice of the lovelorn kind.  Beej keeps begging me to share it with you guys.  Oh and I did check the header info on all three emails...all from different ISP's in different parts of the country.  Wow, I'm suddenly attracting all kinds of animal life.

If the sender was genuinely serious about it, then I'd look like a huge jackass taking the micky out on him.  Besides, dude, if you're reading this, I haven't got a clue how you should tell your girlfriend she needs to trim her nose hair.  My creative side says that perhaps you could get your Martha on and put a little basket together for her which includes some stuff us girls love...smelly lotions and sprays (hey, some edible body lotion might be an idea!) and then tuck in a personal nose hair trimmer? If that doesn't work for you, I suppose you could always just grow a pair (and not get laid for the next decade) and tell her that her nose hair is beginning to resemble Tom Selleck's upper lip and she ought to consider pruning it back some.  No?  Well, sorry, that's all I've got. 

The other email was one asking me why (emphasis on the senders part, not mine) I'm a recluse.  If I told you why, I'd have to kill you.  Not only would that be horribly unpleasant, but messy.   Rest assured though, it does not have anything to do with a GPS tracking anklet issued by my local authorities like my darling emailer asked. 

Now about this other email, the one where I am told I am NOT a nice person.  Because it made me laugh, I have decided it warrants sharing with you m'dears.  I have left all the typos and misspellings as they were in the original.

From:  Steven C.
To:  iambarkingmad
Cc:
Subject: You Are NOT a Nice Person!

Dear Barking Bitch:

You are very mean talking smack. You must be some kind of jealous talking like that about Black Hockey Jesus.  You aren't even worth the crap he picks off the bottom of his shoes.  I bet his blog could kick your blogs azz any day!

He's better than Dooce and could kick her azz on the trampoline.  You are just healous. You are a mean lady.  He has more readers thatn you do and is way more popular than you are.  Stop drinking the haterade.  At least he doesn not post pictures of cute fluffy animals and stupid little kid pictures drinking milk.  He has substance and grit.   You will never be Black Hockey Jesus so stop being a poser.

Show some love and not so much hate.

Well now, where to begin?

I guess I ought to explain his reference to BHJ.  A while back I linked over to his site from Beej's I think, and I actually left him a compliment.  He made a remark about wanting what Dooce has and I told him he already had a leg up on her. He was original, blah blah blah.  I can't remember it all verbatim.  Go over and look for yourself if you are really that curious.  My point is, I was DEFINITELY nice to Mr. BHJ.  He's a square peg, fresh out of the oven so to speak - blogging less than six months if memory serves, and already made a name for himself in a world of vaginas.  No small feat.

Anyhow it kinda annoyed me that he didn't respond to the comment.  And I'm not talking about a reciprocal visit over here.  Hell, sometimes I don't even have time to hit the sites of those that leave me comments.  I try to either email them or respond within the comments of the post of mine they hit, if I've got it together that day.  But still...sheesh! 

I went back to his site and read a bit more.  Yeah, it did occur to me that he's trying desperately hard to get Dooce's attention.  Whatever.  Not really a huge concern of mine.  It also occurred to me that he's kind of a jerk.  Big deal. Whatever.  And he seems to feed on others calling him an asshole.  Yeah well bad publicity is better than no publicity.  So, in yesterday's post about my house being on fire I made reference to him taking THREE things (he played along over at MommyPie's too) out of the burning building and tossed in a snarky jab for the hell of it.  Never did I imagine that someone would take up the cause and come riding to his rescue like a knight in rusty armor riding in on a donkey! 

Dude, something tells me that BHJ can defend himself if he wanted to.  I mean with all that substance and grit (by the way BHJ, I hope you have a good toothbrush, I hear grit can be a bitch to get out from between your teeth) and those mad trampoline skillz, well who am I to argue with that?

And about his blog kicking my blog's ass (if you're going to spell it, could you at least spell it out rather than using some stupid MySpace colloquialism?).  Seriously,  BEST LINE I HAVE EVER HEARD!  You've got yourself some bumper sticker material right there! 

Why am I even giving this cretin the time of day?  Well, I'm doing what everyone tells me to do...I am responding to reader email!  Just doing it in a very public way.  Besides, when I started blogging four years ago, I never imagined I would have the opportunity to get into an bloggy brawl.  Fun times kiddies, fun times!

Steven, thank you, from the bottom of my cold black heart, thank you for pointing out what a meanie I am.  You have given me so much amusement this morning.  Now do yourself a favor and run along and wedge your nose back up between BHJ's butt crack where you seem to be most comfortable!

P.S. BHJ?  Amazingly beautiful post this morning. Brought a lump to my throat and a tear to my mean little eye.  And I'm not kissing ass - there's no room to do that anyhow, not with Steven's nose wedged so tightly up there!