AnnMarie is married to her college sweetheart and together they are riding this roller coaster of life. When not shuffling her four kids around and folding and putting away the endless mounds of laundry that a family of six creates, she loves to read, write and can often be found at Target or Barnes and Noble. She is the author of Tidbits from the Queen of Chaos which is a blog about the ups and downs of marriage to a sports-loving extrovert and motherhood involving a teen, twin tweens and a preschooler.
You can find her at www.tidbitsqueenofchaos or on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/tidbitsfromthequeenofchaos and Twitter @queenofchaosmom
Confessions From the Queen
That sounds so cool. Unfortunately, I am the Queen of Chaos so not so cool. I thought a lot about what I wanted to write over here on Shell’s space. I decided I am going to take the very literal approach and let loose and say what I can’t say on my own blog.
I absolutely hate conversations about how I never call or visit when I am am calling or visiting.
If I hear the phrase, “We need to be close,” one more time, I might seriously answer with, “No, we don’t.”
Forgiveness is hard when the other person doesn’t get the memo. At what point do you say, “I tried and can’t do it anymore?” I’m about there.
I am a little sick of friendships lost or strained because kids will be kids and trying to control who they like or hang out with never works. It makes me afraid to put myself out there at all.
On that note, my kids get left out all the time and I don’t call moms demanding to know why. I deal with my kid, have a discussion about why that is happening and advise them to call someone else. Is it easy? No. Heartbreaking? A little but what is the alternative?
I think I might scrap the whole writing fiction thing and write a book on how to deal with your kids being left out since I seem to know a whole lot about that topic. I’ve been on both ends. My kids have been the ones left out and they’ve been the ones leaving kids out. Both ways suck and in a perfect world, everyone would be invited to everything and everyone would be friends but this is far from a perfect world.
Can you tell that I am really tired of this subject?
Middle school makes me want to homeschool. Between homework, teachers, friends, girlfriends/boyfriends, phones, iPods and so on, there have been so many highs and lows, I feel sick from this roller coaster. One minute I have complete joy and the next a puddle of tears. I know it’s the age but I am getting whiplash from the mood swings.
I don’t like being a football widow and I resent having to keep the wheels turning in this house while my better half sits at a restaurant, eating food that is hot while watching game tape and football games.
Not taking care of my share of things because my better half is not taking care of his share of things is not working. Neither one of us is winning and the house ends up being the biggest loser.
I am hugely possessive over the DVR. That’s what happens when every time you watch TV, the other person changes the channel–right in the middle of the show you’re watching.
If you see me early in the morning (dropping Gia off at school) and I am looking like I am about to work out or just worked out, it’s a big, fat lie. Chances are I slept in the very clothes I am wearing because getting out of this house is hard enough without me figuring out what to wear. Thank God Target came out with a line of pajamas that look like real clothes.
I am crabby because my children don’t sleep when they are supposed to and then won’t wake up when they have to. I am proof that a person can survive on as little sleep as possible. Well, I am proof that no sleep makes you crabby.
Like a teenager, my screen saver is Taylor Kitsch. I used to have my family but I see them every day, all day long. Tim Riggins…I didn’t but I do now. That makes me smile. Don’t judge.
Whenever I start to feel inadequate as a homemaker or mother, I watch Hoarding: Buried Alive and Toddlers and Tiaras (I can’t watch Honey Boo Boo) and immediately, I feel better. That’s why after Nico’s games on Friday nights, I curl up in bed and watch a few episodes of each. Seriously, better than therapy.
I will end this post by saying this. I wake up every morning hopeful for what the day will bring and by the end of the night as my head hits the pillow and I replay the day’s events (which usually ends with me yelling at the kids to go to bed and scowling at Leo for changing the channel) and wish things went differently, I ask myself these questions:
“Did I hear each of my kids laugh at least once today?
“Did I tell each of them I love them?”
“Did I tell Leo I love him?”
The answer is almost always yes so I can go to sleep feeling like I might not be perfect but I am doing the best that I can.