Guilty Halloweenie

For the first time in my mothering career I sent STORE BOUGHT brownies into class for the girl's Halloween party. I'm ashamed of myself. Guilty even...

Last night I received a $200.00 gift card that I shouldn't have received. It was from a company that tried to dick me over and not reimburse me money I deserved. But, I was already reimbursed - and now, in addition, I have this gift card. More guilt...

It's Italian Catholic Guilt. ICG...I have it. Most of us guineas born to recent OTB (off the boat) Italians have this guilt. While you are being raised they put the fear of "burning eternally in hell" into you. You know what? I'm not much of a believer in burning eternally in hell, or living happily ever after in heaven. But, I've been so conditioned to do the right thing that it's impossible for me not to feel guilt.

I'm like the mouse that gets electrocuted every time it goes for the cheese. I know damn well that cheese doesn't cause electrocution, but every time I see cheese I fear it anyway.

Completely illogical.

Because of the ICG it's also nearly impossible for me to lie. My face gets red, I laugh and I can't even look you in the eye when I try. Not to mention my lies are...let's say...less than intelligently thought out.

Lie: "I didn't eat the last cookie!"

Failure: (cookie crumbs are visible on mouth, chocolate left on teeth and I had previously announced that I was eating a delicious cookie.)

'

Fat again

I'm fat again because I gained some fat back.

I won't claim that I have "no idea how this fat happened." I won't sue Entenmann's either...as much as I feel those bastards deserve it. Why is that coffee cake so good? And have you had the coffee cake donut!? Dunkin Donuts had a hand in it as well. That damn coffee coolata has crack in it FOR SURE.

Fuck it all...

I'm a fat girl on the inside. If I had my way I'd be that obese woman who has to be lifted off the bed with a crane. I really would. So, yes, I gained some weight. But, truthfully, it could be a hell of a lot worse.

I am trying to stick with the diet until Thanksgiving.

If my posts are grumpy and numerous until then, you will know I have stuck with it.

If I am M.I.A. or in a really good mood, then that means I have failed and am eating like the chubby bitch that my heart tells me I am.

Question: How come sometimes I don't care if I'm fat?

Sometimes, I'm like WHO CARES I'd rather eat Doritos dipped in sour cream (seriously, try it...the nacho cheese ones) than be thin.

Other times, I'm like, YOU ARE FUCKING DISGUSTING YOU COW HOW COULD YOU LET THIS HAPPEN!? Then I get all miserable and don't even want to bang my boyfriend because I get all self conscious about my fatness.

Right now, I am the later.

Cancel

I won't lie. Sometimes I cancel plans. Sometimes I don't feel like it.

But, I have the courtesy to cancel and say, "Sorry, I'm just not feeling up to it today." "Not feeling well." "Let's reschedule..."

I do not say, "Hey, I found something else I'd rather do so I'm cancelling." "And after this text I will shut my phone off because I don't want to hear your rebuttal."

You know what? Be more creative.

Tell me you sliced your hand open and have to go to the ER.

Tell me you contracted ebola.

Tell me your house was obliterated in a tornado.

Tell me your cat died.

LIE TO ME. I deserve a lie at least.


Also, I am dieting again. That may or may not have to do with my grumpiness.


Man and I argued.
Then I shopped.
Man and I made up.
Shoppers remorse.

What else is new?

I'm THAT Mom.

Why does homework time have to be such a bitch?

Everyday, never fails, the girl has homework. Why is she all surprised and whiney about having to do it?

She doesn't want to show up without it. She's too scared to do such a thing. So it's going to get done one way or another. But why does it have to get done like this?

Her: Can I take a shower?

Me: Homework first.

Her: Fiiiiiiiinnnnnnnneeeeee.

Me: cooking dinner, cleaning, whatever

5 minutes later...

Her: "I throw mah hands up in the air sometimes - singin AAAAYYY ooooo baby LET'sss go. I wanna celebrate and live my life...."

Me: That's not homework. That's singing. Stop singing.

7 minutes later...

Her: *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap*

Me: Stop that! Stop flicking my vase with the pencil! DO YOUR HOMEWORK!

4 minutes later...

Her: *silence*

Me: WHERE ARE YOU?!

Her: I had to go to the bathroom!

Me: You went when we got home!!!!!!! I DONT WANT TO WATCH YOU DO HOMEWORK UNTIL 10:00 AT NIGHT!!!!!! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME GIRL!?

...

Then this morning, I find a worksheet not done in her folder. So while she shoves cheerios into her mouth she has to circle nouns and underline verbs.

Then I drop her off and say, "Do you have a spelling test today?? We didn't study!!!"

She says she knows the words.

I am now hanging out of the car window screaming:

"SPELL FOURTH!!! SPELL BREAKFAST!!! SPELL SYRUP!!!!!!!!"

I'm THAT mom.