I know I shouldn't complain...but isn't that the whole point of having a blog to begin with? So that I can dump the complaints out of my brain? That way they don't stay in there, clogging up all the parts of my mind that could be spent doing other things, like re-organizing my coat closet or getting rid of all the expired salad dressing in my refrigerator.
That is the point of a blog, no?
Oh yes, once upon a time I was full of funny stories about my children. Full of them. These days, those funny anecdotes seem to get farther and farther away as the kids get closer and closer to puberty. And that, my friends, is really not all that funny. Trust me.
Even the daughter has failed to provide me with viable blog fodder lately. Well, besides acquiring the one thing I always wanted but never got as a child, the (hear the bells and whistles ringing) Barbie Dream Townhouse, she hasn't done anything that has made me scratch my head and go "Hmmmmm" in a long time. Unless you count covering herself with homemade tattoos (of the ink pen variety) when my attention was diverted. But hey, at least she spelled her name correctly and wrote "thank you" on her fingers - which makes me feel like I'm really not that bad of a mom and I'm raising a thoughtful and creative human being after all...despite all the screaming.
Speaking of screaming. When I switched the name of this here space to "Stop Screaming I'm Driving," it was because I seemed to repeat those words ad naseaum in the car until I was really certain that my own head would do a Linda Blair and spin right off of my shoulders. Lately though, I've been considering renaming it "Stop Screaming in the House." I know, seems vague and non specific, right? But do you know how tiring it is to repeat this over and over again to my children? Especially when I'm trying to take a shower - really the only place a mom can escape for a moment of peace and quiet - and all I hear is the boys screaming like a couple of escaped mental patients.
And my daughter. Oh yes, she is enamored with all things Barbie these days, and that is very cute and makes me miss my own childhood like nobody's business. But try telling her something is blue when she thinks it's black and she's taken to screaming like a baboon on steroids.
This cannot be a good thing.
It isn't as if we're a screaming-type family either. I mean, I would expect this in a home full of wild yellers, but yellers we are not...at least most of the time. If and when I do yell it is always appropriately. Yes, appropriately. Like when I've had it. When I'm at my wits end from listening to my kids scream at each other for days. Yes, I do believe that screaming is contagious - and I've caught it from my children.
You know the screaming is getting bad when you glance towards the windows to see if any are open, because you are afraid the neighbors might hear the screams and call CPS. I only do this when the kids scream, because if the neighbors hear anything close to what I hear, they will become so concerned for my safety that they will dial the law enforcement agency in charge of such things and beg that they remove me from my home...off to a nice, quiet, padded cell.
Wouldn't that be nice?
PS, I'm not really going to change the name again.