My boobs were my tools of the trade for almost 20 months.

Once my youngest daughter weaned herself from the Magical Boob Juice, the fun really began!

(And by fun we all know I mean chaos!)

Pull up a chair, sit a while, read a few pages.

Keep and open mind and a joyful heart and you too can get pumped into the world of The Milk Maid.


The Reason Why If I Win The Lotto You'll Never See My Face Again 'Round There Here Parts Again

My father, who called as I was preparing to scarf down the only food I've eaten today, decided to take it upon himself to share with me one of the secrets of life. Because I am such a good friend and such a caring soul, I will share this little dab of How To Knowledge with all of you, my loyal comrades:

"You wouldn't be so stressed if you just get over it!"
Ok, everyone pick yourselves up off the ground and stop laughing. I know my father is the Grand Poobah of the Crazy People. Yes, yes- the village called and they are missing an idiot. The Insane Volcano is spewing molten WTF out of every fissure and crack.
"Dearest Father", she proclaimed. "Let me tell YOU the problem with your theory!"
First and foremost, just getting over it has not and will not ever solve a problem any bigger than say a hangnail or a misplaced sweater. When it comes to my life, which is currently full of things you cannot even fathom the depths of, I will deal with it in the only way I know how.
Between being a full time wife and mother, a part time student with a full time study schedule, a person who enjoys the occasional luxury like bathing and teeth brushing and speaking to real people- people who know more than the words bitebitebite or Pokemon Game, I have very little time to listen to your garbage ideas of how I should run my life.
Every time we speak you love to impress the idea upon me that "if you don't just get over all of this you will have a stroke". What is the all of this that I should be getting over?
Because if it's the part where I have 40 pages of study workbook due tomorrow for A&P, well getting over it won't get it done.
Is it the part where I'm unable to take my eyes off your granddaughter for even a second in fear she will find something just within her reach and pull it off a counter and cut her wrist, but only this time I won't be so lucky that a few stitches will cure her ill? Because if that's what I'm supposed to be getting over, well it isn't fucking going to happen.
Or maybe it's the thing where Jef is having all these health issues and if it comes down to where he needs a transplant "I shouldn't worry because it's not that big of a deal". Not a big deal, father? Perhaps to someone who has spent 46 years in a loveless marriage it wouldn't be a big deal. Perhaps to you it isn't a big deal. To me it's the only deal. Just in case you were confused, I love my husband more than I love myself. Between Jef and my children there is not a thing you could name I wouldn't do to keep them from harm or shield them from pain.
Maybe the thing I am supposed to get over is the constant nagging from you and mom. You know, where you both call me ten or twenty times a day and belittle and berate me for not having a house that fell out of the pages of Southern Living. Or perhaps today is the day you yell at me for not jacking up the front end of the Honda, taking the wheel off, and replacing the hubcap all by myself (oh well, I guess Ava could help me here). Or is today the day where you remind me of all my other short comings, and that I could stand to loose a lot of weight because I've porked up? I get so confused because there is SO MUCH SHIT that you constantly throw my way I just can't remember it all. I guess you will cover me being forgetful in tomorrow's session.
--The Milk Maid passes go and collects $200.
Perhaps if your parents are nice and they need a little bling you could get them one of these luxury watches!


Michell said...

I wonder if to some extent this is a generational thing. My mom's response to my depression was always "don't let it get you down" Duh, I hadn't thought of that in between sobbing uncontrollably. That said it sounds like you don't need enemies if you got "parents" like that. Telling you you've porked up??? I think kiss off would be somewhere in my response. I'm sorry he's making you nuts. Good luck with the home work.

Aunt Becky said...

I feel you. Really, I do. Except it's my in-laws. And I hate them.

B said...

WTF? You were fine when I talked to you last night!!! Jesus H Christ, you fall apart if I don't call you in the mornings. This was all my fault..clearly. I'm coming to GA, and I'm going to kick your dad's ASS!!

Candace said...

A, don't you just LOVE when family "helps" by giving you stress tips. GROWL....your Dad sounds like my Aunt. Change the Gender but same advice. Have a mixed drink for me my dear!

RainbowMomma said...

I see the laughs haven't changed any! Thanks for reminding me that I'm not the only one with parents.

Anonymous said...

Maybe spend more time counting your blessings rather than focusing on the negative so much and you might just "get over it"

Heather said...

I am sooo sorry! I hope you have a better end of the week!!

Dory said...

I ate the whole thing like a piece of cheesecake, but these were the cherries...

"The Insane Volcano is spewing molten WTF out of every fissure and crack."

"To me it's the only deal."

Excellent post! I starred this in my google reader so I remember to twitter Schmutzie after work to put you up for a Five Star Friday. You rock.

I won't tell you to get over it, but I will tell you to stop periodically through the day and do a deep breathing thing for at least 30 seconds. A minute is even better. But I know that to you 30 seconds is a big difference from a minute.

Take care of you.

B said...

Hey Anonymous, want to meet somewhere private and discuss your lack of manners? I'll be nice...:::sharpening knife::::...promise. : )

Marcy "meg" said...

Yuck I am sorry. Sounds like you handled it pretty well though.

Deena said...

Sending you big ole' hugs from Texas...I'm sorry girl. You don't deserve all that BS. Sometimes you just need to have a bad day...

Heather said...

Wow I am sorry someone wrote that. Our blogs are for us to vent!!! If you don't like what we say don't READ!!!

babybound said...

Were you talking to your father or mine? I really can't tell.

You need to visit and we can get drunk over this. Sounds like we have plenty to bitch out.

disa said...