Just Stuff

I didn't tell ya'll about a decision I made. I blogged about it a while ago. See here to refresh your memory. It's about this whole child support thing. At this point, I am faced with needing a second job to get a handle on my finances. The more I think about it, the more ridiculous I think it is that I should have to work a second job taking more time away from my children. I filled the application papers a few weeks ago. The nice lady I spoke with on the phone told me it would be six weeks before I get an appointment.


It has been three weeks already. Yesterday I got some information in the mail from the child support agency. It was contact information and such. I was relieved to know that at least I am in the system now. Progress is being made,albeit a little slowly. That's the nature of the child support beast. It is a VERY slow process. When I filed child support papers when we lived in NC, it took me almost a year to get the first payment. That's how slow it is.


I think I may be in the doghouse with the ex husband. He was doing very well at calling Keri on a regular basis. Then the phone calls completely stopped. He hasn't called her in one week and one day. (Yes, I am counting) This my friends is an ongoing dilemma. He will call regularly for a while, then drop off the face of the Earth. Maybe he is ticked off because the child support agency contacted him. I don't know. What I am supposed to do? Should I cut him off completely? Should I continue to allow his pathetic attempts at maintaining a relationship with my daughter? I really don't know what the right decision is. I want to do what is best for HER. If it's in her best interest to maintain the little contact she has, then so be it. But what if that's not the right thing to do? What if his popping in and out of her life is worse for her? This something that I have frankly been struggling with for a while.


I suspect he is angry because I am filing for child support, and YES he would stop calling her just to tick me off. He knows that is the ONLY way he can get me riled up. Only I don't feel riled up. I really could care less if he never calls again. The problem is that my daughter cares. This time she hasn't said anything to me about his disappearing act. Usually she will get upset and cry when he doesn't call for a while. Then I get mad. No, then I get furious. I don't understand how a person can treat their own child this way. I could not imagine going more than a week without talking to either one of my kids.


What I would really like to do is rip his heart out, dry out in the sun for a few days, and then hang it around my neck. Unfortunately, I lack the physical strength to pull off such a feat. Too bad I can't just do it with imagination, I have plenty of that. mmmmm ....What else could I do to him? Peel off his toenails one by one? I know, I know, I could knock him out and then dress him like a girl in a really sexy dress. Then I could put makeup and jewelry on him. Then I could leave him somewhere where ALL his friends would find him. He is such a macho guy that would land him in therapy for years.


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Did I mention that Keri and I almost got creamed on the way to drop her off at school? You know your day is going to crap when the first thing you do is spill hot coffee on your hand. I shook that off and continued getting ready. I was driving through my neighborhood, I wasn't even on a main road. This car comes straight at me out of nowhere. I lay on the horn and ran off the side of the road. He saw me in time to get stopped, but it scared Keri and I both to death. Then he freakin' WAVED at me. Are you kidding me? A wave does not erase the fact that he almost creamed right into my car. With my kid in it. The car that I spent weeks months researching and investigating. The car that I had transferred from Miss-i-freakin-sippi. The rest of my day progressed in pretty much the same manner. Traffic was horrible, and I was late getting to work.


By the time I got to work I had decided that someone must die. It didn't really matter who. Probably the first person that looked at me wrong. Unfortunately, no one wanted to die that day. Everyone I came in contact with was very nice. Not one cross look did I get all day long. Darn, foiled again! There was to be no outlet for my aggression that day.


Incidentally, my mission to make slaves out of my children have my children help out more around the house is going very well. My life is much smoother with everyone pitching in. Melissa actually cooked dinner two nights. Keri still needs a little work, but she is getting there. I can tell that child has not ONE of her mother's cleaning gene. It's just not in her. She WILL get that gene. Eventually, even if I have to cram it down her little throat. Anyway, it's nice to actually be able to sit and watch TV without feeling guilty about it. To know that my house is not festering in putrid germs while I am sitting on my butt. Oh the joy.


I have no children tonight, so I am off to have some "single woman" fun.............

Reclaiming My Pants

We found more critter evidence. He chewed through something in the attic. I am so grossed out. I think I may lock the cat up there for a couple of days and see what happens. What’s the point in having a cat if it wont protect you from unknown vermin? I don’t know about ya’ll, but I tend to think it may be a mouse. Please God don’t let it be a rat or something equally hideous and distasteful. Please, I beg you.




Today is the official day that Susie begins to truly wear the pants at home. The day didn’t get off to a great start. I had an accident that I would rather not discuss, and then I spilled hot coffee all over my own hand. Keri didn’t have her clothes or snacks picked out so we were late leaving the house this morning. Which means I was late dropping her off and got stuck in traffic.



I don’t understand two things. The first thing I don’t understand is this: Why must everyone drive 20 miles under the speed limit if there is even ONE DROP of moisture on the road? Why I ask? Is there a such thing as aqua-amoxaphobia?(The fear of water and fear of driving combined) The second thing I don’t understand is why people are so fascinated with minor traffic accidents. Big deal. You mean to say that’s the most interesting thing you’ve ever laid eyes on? Come on people! Let the rest of us who could care less get to work. The rest of us have kids who made us late leaving the house, which is why we are in such a hurry to get to work anyway.



See how easily sidetracked I am? Anyway back to day 1 of mission “Give Susie Back Her Pants”. Today at approximately 1600 hours, I will be placing a call to the residence of one Keri and one Melissa. I will then sweetly inquire as to what the little precious children would like for dinner. Then at approximately 1600 hour and 1 minute, I will say something like, “Oh you would like spaghetti for dinner? Then I suggest you get out the noodles, spaghetti sauce, and big pot. Be sure to make a plate for me, as I will be very hungry upon arriving home”.



I am sure there will be much weeping and gnashing of teeth. This will not weaken my stone cold resolve to make them pull their weight around the house. Nothing will stop me. No amount of huffing, puffing, pouting, crying, eye rolling that I can’t see over the phone, or any other acts of treason will sway me. I will….reclaim my pants.









1500 hours, 30 minutes August 25, 2008

I am gleefully anticipating calling my children in 27 minutes to inquire about what we are having for dinner. Picture me sitting at my desk rubbing my hands together in joyful anticipation.



1500 hours 54 minutes August 25, 2008

So I called the children to ask what they wanted for dinner:

Melissa: I dunno

Me: Well, you guys need to decide what you want for dinner

Melissa: Keri, what do you want for dinner?

Keri: Hawaiian chicken

Me: Then get out the dish and preheat the oven to 350 degrees…..



I proceeded to give the two subjects instructions on how to start dinner. The younger subject claims to have had a headache since after lunch. The older subject seems to not show much interest in any of this dinner conversation. I will be contacting the subjects again when I leave the office.



0800 hours, August 26, 2008

Subject M (Melissa) reported that subject K (Keri) cried after TE (The Enforcer-that would be me) alerted the subjects of their mission. Subject M offered to step in and handle the mission. Subject K ceased her emotional outburst and did perform the task she was given. Today’s mission will include vacuuming and dusting. TTAAAWWAAANNDDAA!!!


HW wanted to know if I haven't been wearing pants, what have I been wearing. I think a kilt. Still have no idea what the critter in the attic is. I just do not want to deal with that but I know I must.

Weekend At Susie's

We had a hectic weekend at our house. Friday night Keri and I went shopping for decorations for her birthday party. She wanted a Hawaiian theme for her party. We found lei’s and cups that look like coconuts. The grass skirts were ten dollars each. Needless to say, I skipped out on those. Saturday morning we got up and went out again to see if we could find any cheaper grass skirts. We checked at the dollar store but they didn’t have any either. They did however, have double A batteries. I don’t know if Panasonic is a good brand or not. I figured for a buck it couldn’t hurt to try. The batteries in my toothbrush were low the Spinbrush was barely spinning.


We had an experience at the bank. Keri got a money order in her name from one of the grandparents. We went to my bank to cash it and I just went through the drive thru. I put the signed money order and my driver’s license in the tube and send it. A couple of minutes later she asks me if I have an account. UUMMMMM yeah. Otherwise, why would I drive ALL the way across town to cash the money order? I fish out my account number and give her that. Then she says, “This isn’t made out to you”. To which I responded, “It’s made out to my ten-year old” pointing to Keri sitting in the backseat. “Oh, I see” she says and sends back the tube with the money. I realize she didn’t know what the situation was, but come on! I won’t go off on one of my tirades today. That’s all I have to say about that.

The birthday was fine, blah, blah, blah. Usually when we have my family all together it’s chaos. When it was time for cake and ice cream, I formulated a brilliant plan. We asked the kids what kind of ice cream they wanted. One.Kid.At.A time. We then served the cake and ice cream.One.Kid.At.A time. I was scooping ice cream and my sister was cutting cake. This assembly line worked out great. It was a serene experience. Kids were not running all over the house screaming out what kind of ice cream they wanted. We brought the kids into the kitchen as their plates were ready.

Sunday was full of more thrills. Keri wanted to go the inflatable funhouse. They have open play from 4-6 on Sunday afternoons. Let me tell you, if you are not a kid, and you are not jumping around in there. It’s freakin’ cold! The only thing that made the two hours bearable was that I ran into my SIL there. I was still cold but at least I had someone to talk to. After an agonizing two hours, we could finally leave. It was off to the grocery store. By the time we got home and unloaded groceries it was 8pm. Make coffee, make lunches, do laundry, work myself into an early grave.

While I was running errands this weekend, I made a decision. It’s one that I hope I can stick with. You guys have read my gripes about how hard it is to keep up a house and work full time. I swear I feel like I am running myself ragged most of the time. What I have decided is that I have two able bodied children living in that house. Why should I do all the work? What law says that I have to be the breadwinner and the maid? I am so sick of hearing “What’s for dinner” and “Where’s my (fill in the blank)”. Why not have the little hoodlums start dinner? It’s not that complicated. Besides cooking is a life skill that they will both need to have. Melissa is 16 years old and barely knows how to make spaghetti.

Beginning this very night, I will have THEM decide what we are having for dinner. It will be up to THEM to get dinner started. As a matter of fact, I may not stop with just dinner. I may force them to sweep or mop or God forbid, run the vacuum. Maybe I could even hire them out on weekends. Then I wont have to get a second job. Oh, wait a minute, did I say that out loud? My bad. Forget you heard that….or read it.

This whole thing about chores for money….HA! In their young little dreams. No one pays me for cooking or cleaning the house. Everyone will pitch in with everything. Melissa asked me last night if I would make her sandwich for lunch today. I told her that I would, but tonight it’s HER job to make the sandwiches for EVERYONE!!!! MMMMWWWAAAAA. I don’t want my kids to be lazy slobs who are not able to take care of themselves in the most basic of ways. I will say that Melissa has been doing her own laundry for a few years now. She is pretty good about helping out with dishes, but that’s about it.

No more I say! Their reign of terror is over. My years of indentured servitude are over. There is just too much to be done for me to do it all, if I want to keep my sanity that is. As I mentioned recently, I don’t want to throw my money and therapy down the drain. So I decree and declare from this day forward, on the 25th of August, in the year of our Lord 2008 that I, Susie Wears The Pants will actually wear the pants.

Critters And My Sanity

Have I mentioned how much I heart my Ipod? Well, I do. All that music available at the touch of a button. Yesterday I was driving home from work, listening to my music. I was in my happy place. I was listening to New Kids On The Block ponder the age old question, "Didn't I Blow Your Mind This Time?" The abrupt ringing of my cell phone broke me out of my reverie. (I had to look that one up in the dictionary) It was Melissa. She felt the need to call and inform me that she thinks we have a critter in the attic.

Did I mention that I don't do critters? Period. First of all, I am driving home from work. What exactly does she expect me to do about the vermin while I am driving 75 mph down the freeway? I know, maybe I should pull over and make a frantic call to animal control. I can tell them that I have a critter of unknown origin lurking in my attic. I could ask them to please come over to my house at once and remove it. Maybe I could use mental telepathy to ask the vermin to please vacate my residence at once. I could send poor Keri up there to check it out. No? Maybe that's not such a good idea.

She tells me she can hear it scratching around up there. Great. There I was driving along, enjoying my special "me" time. Listening to the band of my youth, not thinking about much of anything. Why can't my children let me drive home from work in peace? It's not too much to ask. It's thirty minutes out of my whole day that doesn't revolve around work or them. It never fails. If there is some sort of problem, it will not wait until I get home. In their eyes, it must be dealt with posthaste and forthwith. Is that a word? Did I spell it correctly? NOTHING should ever wait until I get home. That's almost as bad as the phone calls I get at work demanding to know "what's for dinner".

It's bad enough that they suck every single dime that comes into this house. Now they have to steal my sanity, along with my hard earned money. Little do they realize how much I value my sanity. It took hard earned money, dedication, and therapy to get it. I have no intention of letting THEM steal it away from me. After all, it's all I left in this cold, cruel world.
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Did I mention I got the paperwork for my student loans this week? I thought I was going to pass out. I am still reeling over it. I think I owe about $25,000 in student loans. I didn't realize it would cost so much money to be able to say I'm a college graduate. Want to know how much my monthly payments will be? Good, I'll tell you. $300 A FREAKIN' MONTH!!!! I don't need a second job, I need a new identity. That is going to break the bank. I was expecting payments of about half that. I guess we will be cutting some corners around here. You know, food, clothing, shelter all the extras we don't need anyway.

Out Of The Mouth Of Keri

In celebration of Keri’s tenth birthday yesterday, I have decided to compile some stories about her that I don’t THINK I have previously blogged about. I didn’t have a blog when she was little, so this will have to do.


When Keri was about four, she won a goldfish from the fair. We brought the goldfish home and went to the pet store. We bought a goldfish bowl and the whole nine yards. Keri named her goldfish Princess. As adults I’m sure we all know what happened to poor Princess. She died within several days. That kid cried her eyes out. You would have thought that fish had been around for years. She cried and cried and cried some more. I think she wailed something like, "Ppprrinnncceesssss, my princess is dead. My poor little princess".

 I used to work a couple of weekends a month. The company I work for pays salary employees for working weekends. The money is pretty good. Keri and I were in the car on the way to the office on a Saturday morning. I was explaining the reasons that I had to work that day. “I really need to get caught up on some things, and besides Mommy makes extra money for working on Saturdays”. We get to my office and Keri is talking to me about work and she says within earshot of my boss and in a loud voice, “YOU JUST WORK ON SATURDAYS FOR THE MONEY. RIGHT MOMMY? YOU JUST LIKE TO MAKE EXTRA MONEY ON THE WEEKENDS”. I wanted disappear. I was so mortified. Of course, I liked the extra money, but I really was behind on paperwork. I’m still not recovered from that.


Just a few days ago while riding around our neighborhood she says to me, “If we win the lottery, can we buy Michael so-and-so’s house and kick him out? I’m not trying to be mean, but he’s a big giant turd”. I see a couple of problems here. Have I raised my daughter to call people big giant turds? Have I raised my daughter to think it’s OK to kick people out of their homes and leave them homeless? Very disturbing. I mean, I know that spite is like my oxygen, but I was hoping it wouldn’t rub off on her.

A few years ago, the three of us were sitting on the deck:
 Keri: Sissy truth or dare?
 Melissa: Truth 
Keri: Is true that you fell asleep during sixth period today?”……….

Keri has always had a love of animals. I got her a cat named Punkin when she was three. Punkin has been a part of our family ever since. One afternoon, we getting ready to leave the house and there was a bee in the car. I am deathly afraid of bees. Keri is too so we both jumped out. The next thing I know, Keri is screaming at the top of her lungs, “MY BABY, MY PRECIOUS ANGEL!!!!” I said, “What baby? What precious angel? Where?” She screams, “PUNKIN, PUNKIN IS IN THE CAR, THE BEE IS GOING TO GET HER!” I comforted her and told her that a mere bee would not take down her cat, and in fact, Punkin would probably eat the bee and save the day. It was almost as if the cat knew that Keri was terrified of bees. When the cat jumped out of the car and I went and looked, the bee was gone. I’m not REALLY sure if the cat got the bee, but I like to think she did.

This last one I did put on my blog a very long time ago. Keri says to me, “Mommy, you are the prettiest mommy in whole world”. Pause, then, “Except for when you’re nekkid, but nobody looks good nekkid”.

Happy Birthday Keri

Dear Keri,


Ten years ago today you were born. I remember it so clearly. I remember the start of labor pains on the night of August 19, 1998. I remember not wanting to be in the hospital any longer than necessary. I decided to tough it out as long as I could at home. It hurt. A lot. Your father and I began timing the contractions. Once they were five minutes apart, we called the doctor. He told us to head on over to the hospital. We dropped your sister off at the babysitter’s house. We didn’t want her to be there because we were afraid it would scare her. On the way to the hospital your father jokingly asked me if I wanted to stop and have a beer. The icy cold stare I gave him was answer enough. I was really hurting by this time and his feeble attempt at humor did not amuse me. We pulled up in front of the hospital. Your dad dropped me off at the front door and parked the car.

As soon as I walked through the doors of the hospital, my water broke. It was nothing like what I have always seen on TV. They always show this big puddle of fluid pooling at your feet. In reality, it was more like a trickle. As a matter of fact, I almost wondered if I had peed my pants. Off we went to the maternity floor to check in. A test confirmed that my water had indeed broken, albeit with very little drama.


The pain was escalating now and I was pretty miserable. My best friend arrived to witness your grand entrance. While I struggled with the most horrible pain I have ever had the misfortune to bear, your dad seemed blissfully unaware. That was OK. His time would come. Finally, the time had come to administer the epidural. I was so relieved. I have a very low threshold for pain, and I was more than ready. The doctor came in and gave your dad instructions to hold my hands to keep them steady. He said that I needed to be very still and I was shaking and cold.

Your dad took my hands and stared into my eyes. It was a beautiful few seconds before his faced turned green, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he passed out. I thought he was having a seizure and began crying and demanding to know what was wrong with him. The nurses assured me that he had only passed out and would be fine. Upon being revived, he informed everyone that he was, “only taking a nap”. Thankfully my BFF stepped in and took his place while I got the epidural. Oh the joy! Even though my entire pregnancy had been wrought with one pain after another, the rest of the birth was surprisingly easy, once I got the good drugs of course. At 6:10 a.m. on the morning of August 20, 1998 you very easily made your grand entrance to the world. A few pushes and some mild pain and you were here. Weighing in at 8 lbs 14oz, you were the biggest newborn I had ever seen. You immediately put your whole hand in your mouth and began sucking. That was to be a sign that you would forevermore be a bottomless pit, able to eat more quantities of food than I could have ever imagined. From the time we got to the hospital until your birth it was six hours. Thank you for not taking hours, and hours, I will always be grateful.

You had your father’s hands and chubby little cheeks. How I marveled over your dimples and fat rolls. I loved them and thought they were the cutest things I had ever seen. I was so happy to have another little girl to love. Thank you Keri for joining our family and being my little girl.

Love,



Mom

A New Writer Among Us

Last night two things happened. The first is that I went on a crazed, manic tirade and cleaned out drawers and cabinets. I filled up two garbage bags full of crap that, “just couldn’t be thrown away”. You know the junk I’m talking about, the mysterious cords that seemingly do not operate anything in your house. What about that phone book from three years ago that never made it to the recycle bin? Batteries, pens, old mail, notebooks, instruction manuals, the junk was never ending.



What caused this temporary insanity? Melissa needs a very expensive calculator, of which I have two of them. IF I can find either one of them. I took a math class in college that required this ridiculous calculator, now Melissa’s Algebra class is using them. THAT’S what I was looking for. A friggin’ calculator. A friggin calculator that caused me to spend my entire evening emptying out cupboards and drawers. A calculator that forced me to acknowledge that every available space in my home, has become a JSU (Junk Storage Unit).


As I whirled around my house like a soccer mom on crack Tasmanian Devil, doing laundry, folding laundry, cleaning out the drawers, putting away groceries (grocery shopped last night too) something else happened. When I eventually wound up in Keri’s room and dumped out her nightstand drawers, I found something interesting, and hee-larious. If Keri knew I was doing this, she would never speak to me again, and make sure that I wind up in a nursing home the first time I fall and break my hip.



I found this paper that had the beginning of a story on it. I will now reprint this excerpt in its entirety:


Chapter 1


My Life Changes Forever






My life started out normal. I had friends, a mom, a dad, and a brother and sister. I had dreams. Of course a huge crush on a boy (What girl doesn’t) Back to the dream thing. My dream was to become a star. I had already had wrote some songs. I sing them in my room. I’ve never sang in public only at school. If I really do become a singer I’m still going to go out with my friends and have a good time. And my friends are going to be in my band. I’m going to live in Hollywood. Or maybe New York. Who really cares were I live. The only thing standing in my way of living my dream is my mom. She wants me to be a teacher. That’s never going to happen. I don’t know why my mom doesn’t want me to live my dream. I guess moms are just like that. My sister thinks that to. She wants to be a vet but mom wants her to be a doctor. But sometimes mom can be cool.






Written by Keri Rogers

Retyped by Susan Rogers

The problem is that this is all I found. I have no idea what happened to the girl, or her dreams. Oh well, hope you guys find this as funny and entertaining as I did.

Edited to add: I did not find the calculator but all my drawers got cleaned out. Also, I like how in Keri's story, you can tell she feels bad about the mom being the villian. Note at the end how she says that, "sometimes mom can be cool".