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Tex Commando

I'm not angry, just outspoken

Tag Archives: anger management

She said she would do it.

Then her laptop died. I offered her mine. Nope. Not good enough.

THEN, she said she wouldn’t do it until the boxes were all gone.



They’re gone.



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I just realized that I’m ovulating. OUCH! My left ovary is hurting. Its a weird feeling.

Know what’s also weird? I’m falling apart. Like, I have piles of undone shit all over my room. Other shit needs to get done, but I can’t get it together enough to do ANYTHING.

Why? I was on top of the world in January. I had my shit together in January, and now, I’m all fucked up. It’s actually quite overwhelming. The suck thing is that there are 8 million things to do and I sit here, looking around, trying to figure out which one to do first. But, instead of actually doing something, I pace from pile to pile or task to task accomplishing nothing because all of them are important and I can’t figure out which one to just DO. Then I feel like a loser because- goddamn! Why can’t I just be productive? And THIS is the source of my lack of motivation and blah. So now what?

It’s annoying. And the minutes are ticking by. And in a couple more hours, my kids will be home and then I can forget about everything else because they need food and rides and directions. I’d better go.


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I like tradition. I also like change. I’m not the kind of person who has to have the same things in the same order in the same way with the same people on the same dishes using the same recipes cooked the same way every year for the holidays. I like a big meal for TG. It just doesn’t have to be a ‘traditional’ meal. Get it?

For ten years, I had the ‘traditional’ meal. There were a few things added in over the years as I discovered new recipes, but nothing was EVER taken out. Everyone had their favorite thing, and no one could be disappointed. The food was good, of course, but it was always the same. I always lobbied for something different, something out of the ordinary, something interesting. I almost always got shot the fuck down. So, it was a bittersweet victory when I stopped going to West Virginia for TG and didn’t have to cook what everyone else insisted on.

I love the idea of eating Mexican or Chinese for TG dinner. Shit! Pizza would be a fun idea too. My family always rebels at this idea. I practically get tied up and beaten whenever I mention this. So, this year, I tucked my tail between my legs, put my head down, and cooked a delicious traditional meal using my usual delicious recipes. I left two of my least favorite things out of the equation- sweet potato balls, and banana pudding. Read the recipe and use your brain to figure out why I didn’t want to make those damned things AGAIN. And the banana pudding, well, it’s just been done over and over and over again. It’s so overdone, that it isn’t even appealing anymore.

So this afternoon, while I was in my fourth hour of cooking, everyone had something to say about having Chinese food for dinner. As in- they all wanted that instead of turkey and stuffing. Whaaaat!? They all looked at me like it was my fault that we had turkey for TG. Really? Because every time I mention doing something different, everyone screams bloody murder. And now they want something different? Fuck that!

BUT!!!!! They gave me shit because I didn’t make the sweet potato shit balls and the banana pudding. So, not only did they not want turkey and wanted Chinese, but since they had turkey, they felt cheated out of the full thing because they didn’t have those other two disgusting dishes. It was all I could do to tell them to go to West Virginia next year and eat that shit there. I didn’t have to, because Patricia read my mind and suggested to Trystan that they save their money and go there next year. Asshole.

Those little fuckers have some nerve. They really have no idea. Maybe it’s my ego. I will concede that perhaps my ego has a part in the reason I have not tried to make amends. But, relationships go both ways, and no effort has been made on the other side either.

The kids think they’re being funny by saying that “It’s just not Thanksgiving without Them.” It’s not funny. It’s hurtful. I’ll talk to them about it later when they are done acting like assholes long enough to actually have a serious conversation. For now, I’m going to drown my feelings in pecan pie, apple pie, and pumpkin tarts.

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I have been contemplating this for the past day. Yes, there is a difference. Allow me to illustrate:

It’s inconsiderate to take too long in the shower after class at the yoga studio. There are signs up all over the place reminding you of this. People are waiting to use it. Everyone has somewhere to be soon. We are all busy. Stop chatting and rinse your ass and get out of the shower. Five people have been in and out of the other shower during the time you spent hogging the other one. What’s rude is how you blow off the fact that you’ve been in there for 10 minutes saying, “It’s just like home, you know when you get to talking and don’t realize how long you’ve been in there. No big deal.” NO IT’S NOT FUCKING LIKE HOME!!! It is a big deal when I have my day scheduled to the minute and I barely made it to class in the first place because I have shit ‘ta do. It is a big deal that the lady behind me gets to her kid’s preschool in time. It’s also a big deal that you acknowledge your mistake and APOLOGIZE. At least apologize for your inconsiderate behavior when confronted about it (I kept my mouth shut because I wouldn’t have been nearly as polite as the person who did say something).

I’m glad I got that off my chest. Where do you draw the line between inconsiderate and rude?

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Some things that get my panties in a wad:

  1. When my kids behave like assholes while we are on the way to do something fun. FOR THEM.
  2. When someone gets mad at me because of the consequences of THEIR DECISION.
  3. When I am trying to give someone something and I feel like I am the one jumping through hoops. Not that I expect them to bow down to me and kiss my ass. I’ll do what I can (within reason), but I’m not going to put myself out just to give you something. FOR FREE.
  4. When I have a lot of very important things to do, like listen to my favorite podcasts, and my kids insist on talking to me.
  5. When I’m being bitchy and irrational and I hate everyone in the world and I can’t bear to hear one more child’s voice or even open my mouth to say even one little word and they JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND!!!!!!
That’s not unreasonable is it? No. I didn’t think so. Don’t you dare contradict me in the comments. I’ll change them if you do. No I won’t.

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– business partner. Although I have great ideas, I also have shitty follow-through. I get distracted, sidetracked, somewhat overwhelmed, and ultimately lose interest and fail. I suck, pretty much. It’s not harsh, just true.

– acquaintance. Especially on Facebook. Especially if you constantly brag about going out to dinner at such ‘fancy’ restaurants such as Red Lobster and The Olive Garden. I’m fuckin’ judging your non-taste-havin’ ass. I mean, if you want to spend too much money on shitty food, just send it my way, and I’ll cook you shitty food and charge you way too much money. There is so much good food in the world to waste your time on those shitty-ass chain restaurants. (I’ve been wanting to say that for a long time)

– parent. I’m still figuring out why I had another kid. And another one. And another one. I know one. why I had the first kid. It was called- no condom. I guess that’s why all four happened. But DAMN!! I’m not sure I’m cut out for this shit. Only 13 more years to go? UGH!

– parent of a 13-year old boy. Since we have the lucky number 13 on our minds, please allow me to be completely candid. (Tex is nothing if not candid) My son was gone all summer. For the entire month of July, it was me and my girls. We had a fucking fun-ass time. I actually enjoyed the summer this year. Notice that I hardly blogged? It was because I was too busy swimming, crafting, cooking, shopping, playing with my girls. I loved being home and spending QT with my family. Then my son came home. And all shit broke loose. I can’t even stand to talk to him. Why must he argue with me about everything? I can somewhat understand why he would feel the need to argue if he asks me a question and I give him a “no” answer, but when I tell him “yes” and he argues?!?! WTF? It’s exhausting. And I don’t like him very much right now. Is this normal? Please tell me it’s just a phase.

– housekeeper. I haven’t really cleaned my house all summer. Why bother? It’s not like my kids appreciate a clean house enough to pick up after themselves. Why should I clean it just to have them come around and  mess it up AGAIN? Naaah, I’ll wait until next week to clean my house. WHEN THEY’RE ALL IN SCHOOL AGAIN!!!

– moral compass. No further explanation is necessary.

Have a great Monday mofos!

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That’s what I threw this weekend. It’s actually still going on a little bit.

I know, I know, it’s a bit passive agressive/manipulative. But what mother out there hasn’t ‘done’ passive agressive/manipulative at one time or another?

I’m feeling quite under appreciated lately. My kids are sassy and ungrateful. They won’t clean up after themselves without my constant reminders, and even then they do a half-assed job. They’re bickery and prickly and can’t/won’t get along with each other except to gang up on another kid.

I’ve had my limit.

I’m positive it’s all my fault. I’m sure that if we had regular family prayer and scripture study and family home evening, we would be totally cool, right? If I was following the lord’s commandments, then my children would all get along perfectly and there would be no conflict and the entire family would walk around the house whistling hymns. OK, maybe that was laying it on a little thick and unnecessary but whatever. I’m leaving it in.

So, I created The Common Enemy. I’m it. I figure that if they won’t fight each other if I’m walking around being The Queen Bitch. The thing that sucks about it is that I’m not usually such a bitch. I’m usually pretty smiley. And I like to laugh. The Common Enemy doesn’t laugh and smile. At. Anyone. Not even to Dad. So poor Mr. T gets the totally suck end of the stick.

The upside? All of the little brats are nice to each other and kiss my ass so I won’t bite their scrawny little heads off. They are picking up after themselves, and putting their dirty dishes in the dishwasher. The ACTUAL dishwasher. They are cooking together AND cleaning up the mess without me telling them to do so.

The downside? (crickets chirping)





Oh, yeah- Mr. T is left holding the ball. And it’s hard on him. And it’s not fair that he has to deal with my grown-ass adult tantrum. That’s what it has been. I must get over it.

But damn! It’s nice to be able to make them do what I want them to do. Things they’re SUPPOSED TO DO ANYWAYS!! Shit. Does anyone have any advice?

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