She was lounging. In her room. Reading. Reading a few chapters. Of the young adult novel she heard about. Wanted to see for herself if the storyline was indeed intriguing.
Noticing the sun falling slowly down. Out of view. She wanted to make sure the house was locked up, lights off, before her evening ended. Before the kids retired to their rooms for the night.
The pile of clothes on the living room floor, at the feet of her child, bothered her. The empty five gallon water bottles near the front door, waiting for days now to be filled, by someone willing to drive to the local water machine, irked her. And the full of dishes sink threw her mood for a loop.
"Geez!" she started. "Why is it that I just can't get the help I need?" She eyeballed her two old enough kids. "I guess asking nice, even writing down what I want done, just doesn't work!" she began to yell. "I'm not the only one who lives here. We all need to contribute!"
Blah, Blah, Blah is probably all the kids heard.
She's sure of it.
She picked up the bottles and slammed out the front door. Sped off to fill them. Then returned home again. Still angry. One kid stood to help her as she stepped over the threshhold of the front door. "Don't bother," she snapped. "I can do it all, as usual." She plopped the water bottle onto the dispenser, splashing a bit of water onto the floor. The other bottle, she dropped onto a table, in the garage, as her other kid just stared at her. Not sure what to say.
She went to the kitchen to do the dishes. Clinking them into the dishwasher. Hard. Hoping she'd not break anything.
Yet, didn't care.
The clothes in the living room? She left alone. She was at a boiling point as she stormed back to her room. Slammed the door. Sprawled on the bed. She breathed deeply. Sighed. Then lay her head down. Sideways.
Feeling a bit calmer. A few hours later. She returned to the living room. To recheck the door locks. "Sorry, Mom," the kids tried. She just nodded. Tried to smile. Noticed the clothes had been discarded. Somewhere. Couch blankets folded.
"Goodnight," she mumbled, to herself.
She went back to her own room. To read another chapter. To sleep off her bad mood.
At the end of the day, she knows tomorrow will be another beginning.
(contribution for BFF prompt: at the end of the day)
Noticing the sun falling slowly down. Out of view. She wanted to make sure the house was locked up, lights off, before her evening ended. Before the kids retired to their rooms for the night.
The pile of clothes on the living room floor, at the feet of her child, bothered her. The empty five gallon water bottles near the front door, waiting for days now to be filled, by someone willing to drive to the local water machine, irked her. And the full of dishes sink threw her mood for a loop.
"Geez!" she started. "Why is it that I just can't get the help I need?" She eyeballed her two old enough kids. "I guess asking nice, even writing down what I want done, just doesn't work!" she began to yell. "I'm not the only one who lives here. We all need to contribute!"Blah, Blah, Blah is probably all the kids heard.
She's sure of it.
She picked up the bottles and slammed out the front door. Sped off to fill them. Then returned home again. Still angry. One kid stood to help her as she stepped over the threshhold of the front door. "Don't bother," she snapped. "I can do it all, as usual." She plopped the water bottle onto the dispenser, splashing a bit of water onto the floor. The other bottle, she dropped onto a table, in the garage, as her other kid just stared at her. Not sure what to say.
She went to the kitchen to do the dishes. Clinking them into the dishwasher. Hard. Hoping she'd not break anything.
Yet, didn't care.
The clothes in the living room? She left alone. She was at a boiling point as she stormed back to her room. Slammed the door. Sprawled on the bed. She breathed deeply. Sighed. Then lay her head down. Sideways.
Feeling a bit calmer. A few hours later. She returned to the living room. To recheck the door locks. "Sorry, Mom," the kids tried. She just nodded. Tried to smile. Noticed the clothes had been discarded. Somewhere. Couch blankets folded.
"Goodnight," she mumbled, to herself.
She went back to her own room. To read another chapter. To sleep off her bad mood.
At the end of the day, she knows tomorrow will be another beginning.
(contribution for BFF prompt: at the end of the day)
Real, raw... honest. It's what I've come to expect from you d~ You do it well. Whether it is sharing your heart felt moments of love between you and a husband that are miles apart, the small pleasures found in each of your children, or the maddening moments when you feel like no one is paying attention to how much is expected of you, you deal it out honestly. I appreciate your writing, sharing, and most importantly, you!
ReplyDeleteoh, my thanks, k. boy, do i have my moments.. just ask the kids. ;-/
DeleteI'm laughing. Sorry, but there were days we'd walk in the house and feel Mom's mood downstairs. By the time we'd get upstairs we were doomed. But, we always deserved it and eventually we learned to be useful a little quicker. Love your stories Daphne.
ReplyDeleteat this point, kelly, i am laughing too. they'll learn, i know... i did eventually!
ReplyDeleteI actually quit being the mom one night. I was getting zero cooperation and nothing but grief from two young teens who seemed to never notice anything that needed taken care of. Ever. Then wanted me to take them here or there or whatever. I finally just went to my room and at the doorway announced, "I quit. I'm done with this mothering thing. You guys know so much more than I do and you don't need my input, so fine. You do whatever you think is best. I'm done." closed my door and called it a night. There's a lot more to the story, but the next day, it was a different household. It was my most successful and most scary maneuver. ♥ Hang in there, they'll get it! And they'll be grateful..........one day a long time from now. :)
ReplyDeletei have discovered, jo, that the boys literally need to be told what to do. not asked, but told. but it gets tiring to have to tell someone what to do, all the time. i like your method.. i may end up there... very soon!
DeleteI love the way you share the good as well as the bad with us. You are so real and down to earth. None of that everything is rainbows all the time stuff and I love that about you. Thanks for sharing your life with us.
ReplyDeletegood and bad... no one is immune. i am glad you think of me as real.. that's how i am, really. i don't hide anything... and down to earth.. yep, that's my thing.. thanks for noticing, kat.
DeleteEeeesh... You know they do survive us! Please Don't beat yourself up, they know you Love them. And they will eventually get it ... With your guidance of course.
ReplyDeletei figure they will eventually get it when they are in their own situation, sandy.. with their own kids... that's when their 'ah ha' moments will set in....
DeleteI know, I need to step up :/
ReplyDelete:)
DeleteNo sugar coating here! I like that. We are all human, so I'd rather read someone who is real than someone who is trying to paint a rosy picture. I love that you are real!
ReplyDeletethanks, darlene. it's funny.. i once had someone tell me i seemed so 'leave it to beaver-ish' ... that seemed strange to me, as though nothing every goes wrong... so not true.
DeleteI have experienced this situation as a child now I am in the situation as a mom:) Yes we all just have our days
ReplyDeletewww.thoughtsofpaps.com
yes, paps, we sure do have our days... over time, through maturity, everything should fall into place.. ;)
DeleteThanks for the recognition. Really really appreciate it. Made a comment on that post too.
ReplyDeletewww.thoughtsofpaps.com
:D
Delete