Care for some cheese with that whine?

This is going to me a self-indulgent, immature post. But, it's my blog and I'll cry if I want to. I bought this granola with blueberries and raspberries in it. It sounded really good to me when I bought it, but the berries taste nasty, so I have been picked them out before I can eat the granola and it's a pain in the butt. I spent a ton of time on the phone yesterday pinning down schedules for one of my committees so I could schedule a telephone call that could coordinate with our CEO's travel schedule (he'll be in Brussels and London) and I got it all scheduled, only to find out that there is an internal meeting tomorrow during which staff may decide not to have the call, at which point I will have to crawl back to the committee with my tail between my legs and admit that I jumped the gun on getting the call scheduled. Hubby just came back from a golf trip with his father. As cruel as it sounds, I wanted FIL to have some days where he was very frustrating, just so Hubby would get an idea of what MIL is dealing with on a regular basis. Hubby said it was not as tough as he had feared, though, so he still maintains that MIL is too impatient and needs to adjust her reactions better. (Which is true, to an extent, but I've been talking to her for the past week about how frustrated she gets because no one understands how hard it is to face it day after day after day after day.) Hubby maintains that FIL is not belligerent to most people, which implies that part of the belligerence is that MIL is too harsh with him. Except that isn't true. He jumped down my throat on Friday night, when I answered a question he asked (for the 4th or 5th time) and he didn't like the answer- he was looking for his housekeys and I told him that MIL had taken them, since he wouldn't need them during the trip. Hubby claims that FIL did not jump down my throat, since his anger at the situation was at MIL for taking the keys. Well, I was the one who was snapped at, so I think I'm the one whose throat was jumped down. Phht. I got in a fight with Hubby this morning because he is all irked at what a mess the house is and how the kids and I obviously take him for granted for the cleaning he does and he's tired of being the only one who bothers to take care of the dishes or putting things away. Even though I did have the kids pick up their toys and such every night before they went to bed (although I didn't know they had trashed the den, which he was upset about when he saw it this morning) and I only left dishes in the sink last night because I had run the dishwasher and not had a chance to unload it, and Hoss' coat was on the floor because it had fallen off the chair (where Hubby leaves it, too, so it's not like it's only out of the closet on my watch) not because I let the kids just drop their clothes on the floor when they walk in. So I reminded him that I would help him with getting the kids to help clean the house if he helped me with attending to making sure the kids' homework is done and put away, permission slips are signed, bags are packed for afterschool activities and all the other stuff he expects me to just take care of even when I am in the midst of a Board meeting. MIL called me yesterday to tell me that she has to take BIL to some meeting about his transplant, and they rescheduled it to tomorrow morning, so she needs me to find someone to watch Lil Joe for the morning, and could I just ask my mom to do it? Except that my mom has a standing meeting every Friday at noon and has to take my grandmother to her physical therapy appointment, so she is only available until about 11:00 a.m. and MIL isn't sure whether she can be at my mom's house to pick Lil Joe back up by then. And because Hubby has already missed three days of school this week, he can't take the morning off. And I have a doctor appointment in the afternoon, so I can't come in late. So I'm jumping through hoops and manipulating schedules and asking for favors in order to have my son cared for. And Hubby is trying to guilt me into not having his mother have to drive the "at least an hour" it takes to get from the doctor's office to my mom's house because MIL has such a lousy sense of direction and has never driven to my mom's house before (For God's sack! You've been driving for almost 50 years! Deal with new places, especially when the directions are to take the highway to a particular exit, turn left at the seventh traffic light, take the second left on a clearly marked street, and take the second left down the clearly marked court my parents live on! My folks do not live in a labyrinth.) Hubby used expired suncreen and got a nasty burn on his neck and ears. And now it itches, and he was all "waah, waah, do we have any antihistimines to stop the itching?" NO, fool, put some aloe or Noxema on it and deal with the itching until your skin heals. And next time, listen to your pale-faced wife's input about sun protection, since she is way more of an expert than you are. He's also pissy because he feels like no one cared that he was gone (I didn't jump up to welcome him home or something, and he claims that I didn't even ask him about the trip or say I was glad he was home. phht.) I reminded him that when I went to San Diego last year, the kids' reaction when we picked them up from IL's house was "Yeah, Daddy's here!" and Mama was chopped liver. and he called every day, I didn't need to ask him how the trip had gone, I had already gotten a blow by blow (or, since it was a golf trip, a stoke by stroke) account. and my head has hurt for three straight days and I ran out of good coffee so I will either have to drink the swill from the vending machine or walk next door in the rain.


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Who's Who

    Hubby- aka DH My husband since 1995. He is the head of the band department at a college prep school, and dabbles as a wanna-be pop star.

    The Princess- aka DD. Third grader at the local parochial school. Loves butterlies, sparkly things, the color purple and has recently developed a crush on one of the twins from "The Suite Life of Zach and Cody". Is ready for her teenage years, having already perfected her exasperated sigh and dramatic eye-roll.

    Hoss- aka DS1. Kindergartener and resident spirited child. His aunt likes to call him "the evil genius" because of his penchant for letting a lack of intellectual stimulation lead him into mischief. Likes trucks, sports, building things and burping. His current favorite word is "underwear."

    Lil Joe- aka DS2. Born in 2003. Doesn't say much we can understand, but has mastered the important stuff ("eat!", "Wash hands!", "Want chocolate ones!", "Hockey game!") Likes to push buttons, much to the consternation of whoever is trying to watch a DVD. Firmly refuses to use the potty, despite evidence that he is physically ready to be out of diapers, indicating a level of stubborn that eclipses even that of his parents and siblings.

    Me? I'm the Mama. That's all you need to know.

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