So I thought I could outwait them....

How can a child his age have such a proper side-eye game?? I don't get it!! He is truly lookin' at me like I'm outside my right mind!!

For those who don't know, when my mom died I inherited my Dad. Shortly thereafter, my brother's 3rd wife returned him (he wasn't a good fit, made her as* look fat or sumthin'). So, to paraphrase Robert Frost, he had to come home, and I had to take him in... you'd have to have known my mom to understand, really, why I still feel so obligated to her problem children.

But I digress... this isn't supposta be about my codependent tendencies (yeah, I see it, and I said it).

This is about a power struggle. A waiting game. A showdown. Me v.s. Them. A contest of wills.

I entered into said contest certain in my victory. This week, I have surrendered. I give. I just can't anymore.

I freely admit, my dad and my brother are far better at living in a pig-sty than I am.

It started because I was sick of cleaning up after their raggely as*es. I was done. I was fed up, exasperated, infuriated and exhausted... My plan was simple. Fuggetaboutem!! Let them get a taste of a house where no one cleans up after them. Let them see how bad it can get without me following behind them like their mama did. I was sure I would win.

BUT NOOOOOOOOOO....

At first, they didn't even seem to notice the layer of dust and the cobwebs. I think they did begin to notice the lack of clean dishes. They bought paper plates. But since clean dishes and a clean kitchen are necessary for my personal happiness, I soon exempted the kitchen from my strike.

I then thought the ring in the bathtub and the toilet would make an impression. Again I was wrong. And again, I found a clean bathroom was necessary for my personal happiness. So I exempted the upstairs bathroom from my strike.

Do you see the pattern here? None of it mattered to them. It could have fallen down around them before they would have lifted a finger. They were set in their way.

But then my son jerked me into reality.

"Mom, I'll help you if you feel like cleaning the house. It's kinda nasty."

Ouch.

So I explained to him that I was tired of cleaning up after people and was only cleaning up my own messes (and his) from now on. Do you know what he said?

My sweet, beautiful, almost 7 year-old son looked at me, threw back his head, and said......

"BWAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAHAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHHAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!! You're gonna wait a long time for THEM to help you!! But I know how to dust if you want me to...."

He then shook his head at me and chuckled for another good five minutes... like I'm ridiculous or something.

So Eli and I are cleaning the house. Coz WE like it clean...

Have I mentioned lately I love my kid?

If you didn't wanna know, why did you ask???

It irritates the living hell outta me when the people occupying my space ask me for advice or an opinion and then go on to completely dismiss whatever position I happen to take.  Now, I know, for the most part, when that happens, the person involved usually has her/his mind made up before hand and is simply looking for someone to cosign.  I get it.  But if that's what you're looking for, I am not the one.  Coz Imma tell ya what I really think, and Good Lord help ya if it blows up in ya face, coz Imma tell ya about yourself all over again when it does, with a big dose of "I TOLD you!"

See, I love to be right.  LOVE IT!!  I used to go to enormous lengths to prove how right I was, even if I wasn't.....I have made some progress toward humility and whatnot in recent years, but dayum...I still love to be right.  

So, when my fathead brother tells me he's interested in a new chick, shows me a pic of her online and she looks EXACTLY like his last two ex-wives, do you think I kept my mouth shut?  I did, until he asked the magic question, "Well, what do you think?"  Then, I let him have my honest opinion.  The following is the ensuing conversation.

me:  "I think you're remarkably consistent..."

fhb:  "But what do you think of her?"

me:  "What I said, you're consistent.  Haven't you married this same chick twice already?"

fhb:  "How do you know what she's like?"

me:  "I don't, but she LOOKS just like the last two.  Why you always looking to start up a new relationship anyway?  You haven't been by yourself more than a month since you knocked up Number 1 in highschool.  And you suck at this shit, man!! Let it alone!"

fhb:  "Wow. Ok.  Well...guess I'm gonna call her then..."

Five minutes of my life I will never have back.  

**The chick in the pic is NOT the chick in the blog...it's fhb's last girlfriend (she lasted an entire 6 months, whoa!).  She really looks nothing like wives #2 & #3.

not your mama!!!!

now, all my friends and coworkers know this, but i feel the need to enlighten the random reader with this background info, purely in the interest of context.

i had a simply amazing mother. she died just about 5 years ago--Jan. 17, 2004. (oddly enuf, my boyfriend's birthday. . . . ) but when she was alive, and healthy, she was the queen of our family. there is no doubt of that. now, she and dad were married for 37 years when she died, and she took care of EVERYTHING!! house, bills, insurance, all that shit.....dad mowed the grass, went to work and handed over his paycheck. period.

i have a younger brother. he's zero for three in the marriage department. i love him coz he's my brother and i hafta, but he's a fathead. he likes harleys, beer and chicks. preferably all simultaneously.

mom took care of everyone's everything. then she died. now, the fathead and my dad think that I have some intentions of taking care of them like mom did. ummmm.......no. i'm not my mom. and i'm fasho not tryna be their mama!! here's where we go from the context to the meat n potatoes of this posting.

dad lives in the basement apartment of the house, and fathead is currently occupying my guestroom. fathead returns whenever he's between chicks. i let him come back because i'm secretly still afraid that my mom will retun to haunt me if i don't take care of her baby boy. meanwhile, i have my own six year old son, Eli, whose "daddy" has not seen since he was four weeks old. so, admittedly, i derive some benefit by my dad being in the same residence, and when sober and home, my brother has the potential to be an adequate backup babysitter.

but here's the bump in the road. these people honestly think i'm fittna clean up after their asses!!! they think imma work 12 hour shifts on a fairly busy medical unit (i'm a registered nurse), keep the bills paid and keep the house clean, schedules arranged, grocery shopping done, laundry washed, etc. weeeeeelllllllll......... they're only wrong. now, my mom did it. she did. she did hair 12 to 16 hours a day, 5 and 6 days a week, then turned around, made dinner, cleaned up, helped us with homework, bathed us, got us to bed, then stayed up til midnite or 1:00 in the morning doing laundry and housework, got up at 6:00 and did it all again. she was either a more dedicated woman than i will ever be or she was a martyr or just a sucka!! i choose to believe she was more dedicated, coz she's my moms and i love her. point is, tho, I AM NOT THAT!! she was a better person than i will ever be. i'm ok with that. honest.

and here's my logic: we are all adults. we all live in the same house. we all have jobs. we are all able to clean up the house. if we all do SOME of the housework, no one has to do ALL of the housework. i think the simplicity of the solution is elegant and beautiful. everyone does something, no one does everything.

but these clowns want a mama. well....... I AM NOT YOUR MAMA!!! (except for Eli, and I am his mama). therefore, although it is killing me, i am on strike. let this bitch pile up, let the pile fall around them and let them know, i am done. help me or live in it like you leave it. i am patient. i can outwait them. game on, boys.....