Monday, May 24, 2010

My Own Private Idaho

Someone on Facebook posted a link to a page called Shitmykidsruined.com, with the comment "hilarious!" I went to take a look, running low on vagina humor that day, and honestly, I could not decide between nausea and rage. So i went with both. Picture after picture of child-caused destruction--children cutting their own hair, children ripping apart the toys of mere acquaintances, children barfing on their parents. As it happens, I have experienced all three of these things, and many, many more indignities documented at shitmykidsruined.com. But I personally did not find any comfort in the camaraderie of the tormented parent. I think I have reached the end of my tolerance for torment. I don't like children anymore.

Now before anyone calls the Department of Social Services, let me say that OF COURSE I love my children, and they are well cared for, doted upon and obviously brilliant and gifted at everything they do. Of course they are. I wouldn't have any other kind. But when they are very young, there is a level of capitulation that must take place in order to survive parenthood. You KNOW your shit is going to get ruined, so you hide it. Cabinet doors are locked. The toilet bowl is inaccessible. Stairs are blocked off, poisons carefully housed in high cabinets. No glass chachkes or decorations of any kind. Anything that can be destroyed will be. So you avoid what you can and clean up after the disasters you didn't anticipate. And you believe that it will go away as they get older.

Now HERE is why i don't like kids anymore. They are older. And they still touch my stuff. They TAKE my stuff without asking. They break stuff and hide it. And then lie about it. My vibrator was left running in the drawer (it has since been moved, but it was ALREADY HIDDEN) and my pitiful amount of weed was embedded in the bedroom rug. E-mail is read, because they "thought it had something to do with me." In short, they have absolutely no respect for anything that is mine, because I simply don't exist. I mean I don't exist as an entity separate from each of them. Thus what is mine is theirs, and they literally don't get why I pop a vein when they go in my purse. My shrink tells me this is a sign of bonding, that they feel that I am simply an extension of them. And I have to say, after so many years of being an extension, I am kind of done. And, incidentally, they do not do this to the husband's stuff, just to mine. Which pisses me off ever more.

Obviously, I am not done with parenting, but I am DONE with understanding.DONE with complete and total sacrifice. I am no longer going to say it was MY FAULT for not barricading the door to the Sugar Shack when I find grubby fingerprints on my new bass. Or a million other absolutely, completely and totally CLEAR statements of HANDS OFF, JUNIOR. I am not totally sure how to address this without resorting to no Age of Mythology for the rest of Medium's life, but I am sick of the wordless, tearful rage I feel when something is broken/used/left for dead AGAIN. Suggestions that do not involve physical violence are appreciated. But I suspect, most depressingly, that there is no way to address it, short of banishment from my kingdom.

I recognize that I sound like a terrible mother, and if I do, so be it. But being a parent has so many sacrifices, sacrifices in ways that I could not ever have imagined, that the millimeters of independence I regain as the kids age are even more painful when they are turned into a pile of glittery eye shadow powder all over the bathroom sink. Yes, I entered into this parenting thing willingly, and I am glad to be here. But not every minute. Not all the time.

I want my own fucking bathroom. Give me that, and I swear I will stop complaining.

7 comments:

  1. Don't you hate it when your kids no longer understand english?

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  2. it's gotten to the point that, if i'm out with friends sans kids, i ask to sit away from all the families. i am such a grump.

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  3. Ahhh, fuck 'em if they think you're a horrible parent.

    I don't even want to know what they'd think of ME!!!!

    I decided I don't like them when they learn to talk back and give you hateful fucking looks!

    Makes me want to give someone a REASON to call social services!!!!!!

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  4. Your own bathroom? Your boys will still come in and piss on the seat.

    I like what your shrink said, "they feel I am simply an extension of them." That's comforting to some degree because it is probably true. But that doesn't erase the complete annoyance of it all.

    FYI: My kids come in my office all the time and use all my shit. The worst is the pencil sharpener because they leave all the shavings and crap all over my desk and floor. They also steal my tape, my scissors etc. And believe me, they all have their own stuff!!!! Doesn't matter.

    I guess we should be happy they want us to some degree still. That's my stance these days and I'm sticking to it.

    Good luck.

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  5. CB, isn't it horrible to look at their faces and see your own hateful look reflected back at YOU? The nerve!

    GUY, I haven't had a roll of tape, a pair of scissors or a pencil sharpener that has lasted longer than one day in my office. Or a friggin' pen. And in terms of the bathroom, the retinal scan i am going to install ought to take care of the intrusion of boys!

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  6. Oh Sugar....This is another reason I decided against children.. I saw them as very self absorbed ungrateful little machines (im sure I was the same) whose only purpose is to teach a mother sacrifice and the "profoundness of unconditional love..." as I have been told..
    But frankly... I thought the whole set up seemed very one sided! And not particularly just. I don’t think that your reactions are "unmotherly"... In fact quite the opposite.. You have reached the next stage in parenting... teaching them to respect you... for they will have to learn this now for the real world....and if they learn it for you, everyone else will be easy to do.
    You are completely normal, and completely justified and you are doing a good job. Now is the time that you say...ok... that’s great you love me etc.. but now its time to grow up and learn about the real world.. and how to survive it, I am teaching you the 'gentle' way... believe me!

    And Im doing psych, so this is not an "uneducated" opinion just because I dont have kids. I think you are doing a fantastic job paying attention to your own needs. People underestimate how important this is for children to see.. seeing you demand respect.. expect respect for your things for your boundaries.. this is how they learn to have the same respect for themselves, by watching you respect yourself...

    Anyway, I actually just dropped by to say "goodbye and good luck" .. I am officially signing out today and moving on. I will still be reading your blog, and probably commenting though I will no longer be under Nightingale Dancer.
    I just wanted to say thank you for your love and support and to wish you the very best for your future and your life. You have a lovely soul and it has incredible moments in this world still to come.... I hope that your life is filled with love, laughter and prosperity to fulfil your souls journey.

    Much love.

    Nightingale

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  7. Funny. I might have to get me one of those scanners too.....for my secret stash of guy stuff. Well, it's not so secret, but still....

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