I Confess...

that this is a sucky, depressing, whiny, blog post and you probably shouldn't read it.

that I just need to vent a little...

that today didn't start out like this.

that if was fine until I asked them to clean up. Just like it always is when I ask them to clean up.

and that I just totally lost my cool with the big boys, who are were refusing to clean their room and instead hosting some kind of party in there.

that when I flung the door open the door knob put a sizeable hole the wall. Great.

that I gathered two trash bags full of crap off of their floor. There. Now it's clean.

that I grounded both of them for the rest of the weekend.

that because I was so mad and because I have so freaking many things to do this weekend I also emailed Stinky's coach and told him that Stinky wouldn't be attending his soccer game tonight. Privileges are just that around here, earn them or lose them. If I have to clean your room for you I am not going to have time for soccer.

that now all three of my boys are hysterical (Booger Head was in the room next door, trying to take a nap, when the wailing and gnashing of teeth started).

that I really hate it when they sit in there and cry for Daddy. Like if he was here it would be all balloons and cupcakes and no one would care that the place looks like crap. You know what? I wish Dad was here too...

that I know that this will have changed nothing. The next time I ask them to pick up their crap we'll fight the same fight and eventually come to the same place, with all the yelling and fighting and crying and eventual "total loss of cool" by Mom.

that this fight was one of the biggest reasons that I didn't want to put my baby in that room. I hate that room. I hate the constant state of mess and the never ending fights about cleaning it up. I hate that its inhabitants seriously couldn't care less if I cry and beg and plead with them to clean it up. Nothing reaches them. And I didn't want my sweet, tiny, baby to live in that. Or be like that.

that you have to take care of your things. Period. And I will not live in a pig sty. As long as I have to look at your room you're going to keep your things picked up.

that I hate feeling like maybe there is something wrong with me and I am the one being totally unreasonable by expecting them to take care of their things.

that I am so tired of having soccer every night of my life.

that I boycotted Pinky's soccer practice last night because she had a game on Tuesday and she has another one tomorrow and they are only allowed to have two "events" per week. Tuesday plus Saturday equals two in my book.

that I had high hopes that we would be able to spend some nice family time together last night and instead we ended up fighting about cleaning up after Stinky and Ralph totally humiliated me with their crap attitudes earlier in the afternoon.

that I wonder why it always ends up like that. I get all excited about being able to just be together and relax and it's like they know...

that I saw a thing just last night on the news about the realness of retail therapy. Pinky and I are going shopping as soon as Dad gets here.