Wednesday, May 27, 2009

WTF Wednesday

I need to vent and what better way to do it then to wrap it up in a cute little package with a title filled with alliteration? (Gee, can you tell that I've been helping the boy wonder with his English homework?)

Lately, I've been on daycare duty. This isn't something I normally do as the daycare is close to Hubby's work. Its been about a year since I've been in and out of there with any regularity. Needless to say, there is new staff and when I walked in a couple of weeks back to pick up the Demon, I realized that I no longer knew which room she was in. As I was looking around, one of the girls asked me who I was looking for. When I told her, she stared at me a minute longer and then asked if I was grandma. WTF? Seriously, if you have any doubt, don't you err on the side of caution and say Mom? That way, you won't insult anyone and if I was in fact, grandma, you would have flattered me. Of course, since I'm so polite and all, I told her I was mom and then informed her that I didn't like her.

Crapplebee's again. After this, you would think that I would know better but apparently I'm a slow learner. Also, read the comments on this post - someone out there really loves Crapplebees! We waited ages to go back and what happens when we do? There is rotten (and I do mean ROTTEN) celery in our starter. Normally, I wouldn't eat the celery but I just happened to be munching away on the rotten stalk. When I called the manager over and showed him the rotten celery, he asked what the problem was. Are you FUCKING kidding me???? WTF? He took the starter off our bill but it went downhill from there. I've never left a restaurant without leaving a tip but I did that night. I even wrote a note on the receipt explaining why I wasn't leaving a tip and told the manager I wasn't leaving one and why. We had to ask for our child's drink and our waitress couldn't be bothered to come back to our table. We weren't offered refills - EVER - and after sitting and waiting 10 minutes with a rambunctious toddler, I finally took the bill to the bar and bitched out a different manager. Yeah, I'm sure this get a slew of anonymous comments telling me to stay home and eat meatloaf but whatevs.

Hubby and the Demon left for a short vacation to PA this morning. I miss them already but seriously, Hubby, can't you book a flight that doesn't leave at the ass crack of dawn??? WTF? You know I'm not a morning person and it makes me want to remove your testicle (singular on purpose :D) to get up that early especially when you are off to have fun and I have to go to work. You're lucky I love you the way I do.

Hormones + teenage girl = mother ready to drink for fear of killing teenage daughter. This one doesn't even get a WTF - it gets a full Fucking Kill Me Now! Bad part is, she's only 14 so there is no end in sight. I think teenage girls are a mother's punishment for torturing their mother. I've tried apologizing but my momma only laughs. I spend days trying to decide which is less painful, repeatedly smashing myself in the head with a hammer or throwing myself down the stairs or dealing with her.

Join me in the bitch fest, won't you?

Monday, May 18, 2009

What Today Should Be

Today should be the day I stand by my oldest child with my heart swelled with pride. Watching as he carefully dons the mortar board and cocks it at a jaunty angle and gives me the grin I've been seeing my whole life. The grin that says, I know this isn't right but you know you can't help smiling with me. This should be the day I reach out and straighten the hat and help him carefully place the tassel. The tassel that will eventually hang from his rear view mirror in a rite of passage. This should be the day I jam my purse full of tissues and watch my baby - the baby whose first faltering steps I witnessed - make that trek across the stage and receive the diploma that signifies his transition from childhood to adulthood. This should be the day that I watch each year of his life flash by me with each step he takes toward that diploma, from the cute little baby to the gangly preteen to the man he is today. This is all what today should be about.

Instead, today is about dreams dashed and hopes dimmed. Today is instead the day I listen to my other coworkers talk about their children's graduations that occurred over the weekend. Today is the day I listen to their stories and realize that I won't have one to share. Today is about failure, shame, and embarrasment - his and mine.

Sean needs one - let me repeat that - ONE freaking credit for his diploma. Instead of buckling down and getting the work done, he's been putting it off. Oh, he'll get a diploma but he will never have that walk, dressed in a dark green cap and gown, to receive it. I'll never have the moment of my heart swelling with love and pride, watching him take that walk. I'll never get cheesy pictures with a diploma in one hand and a thumbs up with the other hand with his buddies.

I've spent the last few weeks trying to convince myself that its ok. That as long as he eventually receives that piece of paper, the ceremony doesn't matter. I was wrong. It does matter. I sit here typing this with a lump in my throat, knowing I've failed. I've failed because I let him fail. I kept telling myself that he is 18 and it has to be his responsibility to get the work done. However, reaching high school graduation is my last official job as a parent and I didn't make it happen so the failure is mine. Now, he has 3 assignments to finish and he'll receive his diploma without any fanfare, without any announcements, without any revelry, without any ceremony. And my heart aches.