It is time for Think Tank Momma's Gratitude With Attitude. I'm full of attitude this week, and running a little short on the gratitude, but, I'm going to give it a try. If you would like to play too, swing by Think Tank Momma's site, grab her code, add your link to her Mr. Linky...it is that simple.
Dear Times Commenting Cunts, non gender specific in this instance,
Thank you for being judgmental, sanctimonious, pompous asses in your comments about Mommy Bloggers. You reminded me why I love mommies who blog, and why I'm proud to be one.
Feeling a bit of envy this morning...telling you to go suck something, would make me feel better than the lame 'You can kiss my ass,' that I'm having to settle for here
Dear Daylight Savings Time,
I already pulled the 'c' word out for the Times people, you dodged a bullet on this one, because I don't have anything left in my arsenal. I would like to thank you for screwing me out of one, of my TWO hours, of nightly rest.
I am a completely exhausted waste of a human being (according to the Times folks, that would be everyday) and it is [almost] all your fault.
I know that you and Exhaustion have some insider trading shit going on. I'm aware of your treachery, alas, I'm too tired to do a frigging thing about it.
The toothpicks are starting to make my eyelids bleed a little
When I called you scared and worried because I thought H had broken his finger? Do you remember why I hung up on you? It was because you busted out with, "I don't f*#king want to hear this shit!"
I bust my ass every single day to give you a chance at the career you always wanted. I do it 100% alone. I hardly ever complain to you (that's what my blog is for) and your attitude sucks when I need you to provide just a tiny bit of moral support.
Do you remember what you did for me when I was working on my career? You complained to every relative that I have. You threw me under the bus to your friends. You made my life a living hell. You fought with me. You let me know every day how much you resented me for working. Ultimately, you made it impossible for me to keep a job that I loved and excelled at. Not once before today, have I called you on this. I have secretly been glad for the opportunity to be a full time mother to our children. I have THE hardest job in the world, but I love doing it.
Today however, I want you to understand what I lost when I gave up my career. When I was working, I looked at facts and figures each day. Everyday, I looked at reports comparing this quarter's progress to last quarter's progress. I knew what I had to achieve to make EBITA. Everything was spelled out for me. I had TANGIBLE proof that I was good at my job.
As a SAHM, there isn't 'tangible' proof of anything. I have to find my bonus in hearing my son scream, "I hate you," and slam a door in my face. My crunch time isn't before the corporate bigwigs arrive, it is when the babies are woken up late at night, and then won't go back down until four in the morning. Getting the school children up when I am too dizzy with sleep deprivation to walk? That is my new crunch time.
I gave up my friends. When you left, I ceased to have time to talk to them on the phone any longer. I could never run out and meet them for lunch. Even when you came home, there was pressure to spend all of that time with you. That was to the exclusion of everyone else in my life. I took all of this in stride. I have never complained...until today.
Today, I want you to know what our reality is. We went down to Miami together. We calculated how much it would cost to live there. We decided *together* that we couldn't afford it on the salary they were offering you. *Still* you took that job, even though we had decided that you would not. Again, I have never called you on this. You were following your heart and realizing your dreams. Who was I to stand in your way?
To make it all work, the children and I stayed here, and you left to start your new job. We knew when you left that we couldn't afford to live together in Miami, not unless we were willing to sacrifice our children's schooling and safety. So, I persevered. First on my own with five children, now on my own with six.
Now, you want to ask why there isn't extra money? The answer that you don't want to believe is, because there never was. We knew from the get-go that this job was going to try us in ways that we hadn't been tried in a long while. We are feeding and raising six children. They are our lives, they are what push us to try harder and be better...don't ever forget, that without them, we would have been so much less than we are now.
The goal was to finish the project you were assigned to...three years long...and then transfer back to us. Of course, through no fault of yours, or even my own, that project was delayed in starting for 18 months. Now it has been over a year and a half that we have been apart, and the finish line is still 3 years away. By the time you come home, the newborn you hardly know will be in preschool. It is such a long time.
I don't mean to complain. I don't try to make you feel bad. I want you to respect what the children and I have sacrificed for you. I want you to know that we deserve compassion. You can't give of yourself everyday like you used to, but, that isn't any reason to deny us empathy and love.
Each day that passes with you gone is like a mountain that I know I can't climb. Everyday I make it over that mountain, carrying our very heavy load on my shoulders alone. Each night when I fall exhausted to sleep, I marvel that I made it through the day. No matter how many times I do it, I still wake up to that same feeling of dread. You could alleviate so much of that for me by just being kind.
Now, is that really too much to ask?
I didn't f*#king ask for this shit!