Because everything in this house is either broken or misplaced, there are times when I feel like I live with end-aisle displays like they have at the grocery story.  People with ADHD have a different view on keeping track of things.  I have learned, because I live with 3 of them, that it's best to have things front and center.  This sometimes means for me.... piles of things, food items, clothing (why bother with drawers) - you- name-it are always 'out' just in case they may lose track of it.  Nothing is ever put away and certainly not where it is supposed to be.   I have become the 'finder' for all.  Tonight my darling husband misplaced a menu for dinner that he has JUST HAD IN HIS HAND.  I could barely hear is tantrum (because it happens so often) like magic... I quietly got up and 'found' the menu right on his desk - someone had put a catalog over it.   oh well,

A change of season...change of shoes (hopefully)

I'm back! ... no, I'm not hiding under the rubble pictured, but there are times when I have felt like it!   This has been one loooong summer and now it's FALL.   Within the extreme life that I live, the weather has been right in line with my life.  Extreme heat, torrential rains, indescribable humidity....and then the gigantic mosquitoes join in.  That's 'summer' in the Midwest.    I am not fond of heat for a variety of reasons.  After years of running full throttle, additional 'heat' is just not something I enjoy so I do my best to stay near fans and A/C.   The cold weather coming fast is a welcome relief so I am enjoying it as best I can.

Now for the update;  Darling Daughter is now driving and I have to say...it's not as bad as I thought it would be.  My late-night dispatch 'runs' have stopped and she is so eager to drive - even offering to do errands for me!  Also, because we now have something she really wants (the car) her attitude has changed greatly and we are having real conversations and she even asked me to braid her hair last week!  :)  I don't think I have been allowed to 'touch' her hair for 10 years.  It was nice.

Darling son on the other hand is still making questionable choices and last weekend around 9:45 pm invited 8 boys into our newly cleaned house... I'm too tired to micro- manage except to say I did not appreciate hearing bb gun shots in the dark as they were I'm sure, also tramping around in dog sh-- outside to then bring into my clean house.   He was 'entertaining' too bringing shelled peanuts outside in one of my good ceramic bowls.  One of the joys of my life and I have few these days, is having my dear polish ladies clean once a month.   I have been protecting the floors like a prison warden and banished the boys to the basement via text.   I think my son knew intuitively they better stay there! I was actually able to then go to sleep!  

xo

The International Laundress 

humm.....'all I want for Christmas....

ok you finish it... 'my two front teeth' well, at least they'd match. (maybe)  I am just hoping to someday have socks that go together! That is my dream.  Before the madness of my life 'set in' ... I used to be really weird about socks not matching - this slow errosion in my thinking started with my brilliant time-saving system (mentioned in an earlier blog) the famous 'sock box'. Afterall, the kids could have cared less if socks matched but for me it was different.  I used to be able to tell the difference.  Now I find that I've joined the masses around here.  unmatched socks? who cares?!  This mindset has also carried over in my kitchen - for years, we have had mismatched glasses, plates and silverwear.  The potpourri of my life. The good stuff...slowly disappeared - pans used for dog bowls, silverwear used for digging in the mud outside...my knives used for whittling sticks. 

Once when I had 'new' friends over, the mom said, looking at my silverwear... I think this checkered pattern fork is for the kids.  I looked at her with kindness as though she had asked me if i were pregnant and said... oh, we like things mismatched and creative around here! It was a good 'spin'

After suffering for years from parental post-traumatic stress disorder, I often wonder where the first episode occured to trigger this syndrome.  I believe the difficulty for me loomed even when darling daughter was under age 2 and deciding on her own, she wasn't 'ready' to leave a climbing structure on a very cold winter day... after warning and reminding it was 'time'.... I decided to call her bluff and 'leave' to watch as I 'drove away' from my rear-view mirror, my young toddler waved 'bye bye' to me.   She is one tough determined kid...always as been!  Once my mother played in deep snow with her for over an hour and she only had on one boot!  This boot wasn't found until Spring.

When you have PPTSD it is an emotional numbing with flashbacks that trigger new episodes.  On a recent road trip with darling daughter (and darling son), I recalled why it is so difficult to travel with this crowd- the only blessing was that Good Sport Husband stayed home.  As soon as we opened the hotel room door, she had marked herself like a dog on the queen bed that would be 'just hers'.   This followed with the TV on and lights as though her brother and I were no where to be seen.   Like the step-children of her life, she had a full evening with computer off this 'bed' while we watched in awe.   I was futher floored when a hotel manager came in to 'fix' her internet connection.

 but never more evident than a recent road trip with darling daughter (and son) - it made me remember (like a flashback) on why it is so difficult to travel

From this parenting oddessy, I have suffered for years from post tramatic stress syndrome, in fact there are still times when I have flair ups.  I recently had one of those days.... it usually begins with going somewhere with my children and just the mention of sharing a hotel room brings back the dark feeling.  This time, I was spared good sport husband (who stayed behind ).  the lift off began with repeated texts from Darling Daughter on packing instructions of things she had forgotten.    Then while on this road trip I drove straight for 4 hours until finding our hotel room.  

  A rare occasion but this trip was not optional (a funeral). 

CSI = tracking teenagers

It usually takes me a few days to recover from a weekend of tracking an overconfident teenager.  Each weekend it's a new 'adventure.'  This past weekend (in an effort to try out the idea of independence) we allowed darling daughter a 'free range' opportunity to have a fun weekend with her friends.  This involved the idea of going 3 hours away in 2 different cars to a big water park for the day.  When she returned - still ready to go...we began an evening of again tracking her down.  The idea of 'checking in' is also a foreign concept to this child.    So when I learned in the am that Darling Daughter was out on another one of her galavants I was once again in need of putting the pieces together.  Fortunately, this time, I had a partner (her friend's Mother) and together we were able to piece all things together.  Teenagers are real heart stoppers when the pieces don't fit together.  I have actually needed a defibulator on a couple of occasions.    This is something that no one can ever prepare you for.  My darling daughter has even reminded me that we are 'only' on #4. extreme screw- up

If not on 'display' it's LOST

There are days in this madness of life here that I am truly amazed. This idea comes from my ADHD family and their very bad habit of marking things like an unneutered dog in the very place the item first enters it's point of entry in the house.   It this 'item' doesn't stay in that place it is lost.   There is no rhyme of reason for this idea either.  When I correct things like putting a bb gun in the garage rather than a corner of my kitchen ... it always creeps back in to the original marketed spot (and that includes bb aumo on the window sill! )  Another one that drives me crazy is stuffing my decorative container with dinner napkins to then find the balance of the package losely stacked next to this container for the next reload... huh?  

Ferel Child Heading for Prison

It's coming... I still can't believe it! but my feral-child lovingly known as 'Darling Daughter' is heading off to college!  As I have stated before, it is an amazing feat to be able to view this child from this vantage point.   All I can say now is good luck (to her roommate!)

Have Stress Will Travel

As stated in a previous blog, my children are from a very murky gene pool.  ADHD comes to them from a very definite genetic link through their father.   Not be undone, they also have a further connection with another very high-energy relative (my mother) ... Grammie has always had unbridled energy, stubbornness (like no other) and endless determination to get her way (with everything) .... she is always busy - busy doing many things at one time.  and she would personally shoot me if I revealed her true age.  (note: this is a woman who lies about MY age)  The bi-product of this gene pool is organizational issues;  lost purse, keys, sunglasses and anything else in her path.   Darling Daughter is a younger version of my Mother so they get along famously.

Back in the 'old-days' when ADHD was completely unknown Grammie reminisced about how her own father had a great cure for ADHD... a handy belt :)   ... hence, her continued advice to me in my children's younger years was always 'I'm just not tough enough'  or my favorite comment -  'If they lived at my house- they'd be D.O.A.' !

Last week while visiting Grammie I let my guard down.... (I'm becoming a new person since one layer of stress is a bit contained since Darling Daughter is living in a college dorm.... I should have known better on this one.  Afterall, I have years of experience looking for Grammie's purse, keys, sunglasses and overall just keeping 'up' with things in my own surroundings and hers...  so imagine my surprise, when we returned from an outing to find exploded hard boiled eggs burning away on her gas stove!  What a mess....and the smell was beyond. Not to mention we are lucky it didn't burn her house down!  Upon discovery, I turned to my Mother and said ..... "You're officially OLD"... in her usual flippant way, she said "Oh, I do this all the time!" .....  It wasn't exactly the answer I was looking for -  funny though, I did have to shake my head and agree with her.   So the stress-gap for me has been filled - there is no escape.



 

Child rearing has nearly killed me

Because this blog is all about fair and truthful comentary, I need to update a previous post 'A fling with Food = Fun' .... the food for flinging of choice was apparently 'sweet potatoes' which no doubt looked like dog crap everywhere - adding to the 'fun' ... 


If I wasn't so pitiful from being ground-down to the bone from life as an entrepreneur and a mother to this wild family,  I probably wouldn't of  had the reaction I did to a kind offer from a friend last night.... it brings a tear to my eye!

Still in shock.... I was invited to take an art lesson with an accomplished artist (who I love and admired for years) I nearly fainted at the idea..... my reaction was as though she had told me I was meeting a rock star.   I know embarrasing & sounds crazy (and I'm sure she thinks I'm nuts)  but it was such an amazing idea and it bitch-slapped me to the fact that I haven't done anything 'fun' or anything for myself FOR YEARS!  What have I become when the thought of taking a 5 hour class would be such a nirviana in my world! That's the truth and I know I am not alone in this thought.  Women like me, (and most I know) are  busy beyond comprehension. As a wise friend said recently --- even the people doing nothing are busy!   No one ever takes a break from the day-to-day grind or has time for even a friendly laugh (like the old days).  What has become of us ? a question I have asked many - those few friends that I have left.  
Life in tough economic times....hasseled with children.....endless bills = a not-so-great-quality-of-life.    Yes, I do have an occasional 'date' night with my husband when we watch a movie together....but what happens is I end up snoring during the movie.  It doesn't help that I 'waited' to have children --- to then 'wait' further though the nightmare of infertility.....to now find myself with teenagers when my friends are becoming Grandmothers. Undoubtedly that is the start of the problem. 

Mother's Day - Special activities

Like most 'older moms' I experienced the unexpected 'journey' of intense infertility (for 4.5 years) so when my Darling Daughter was born it was a true revelation - a miracle -  like having a clean house with well-behaved teenagers.

With the arrival of my Darling Daughter (and being a high-risk pregnancy) was like the next coming of Christ.  I had already created a beautiful 'ultrasound' photo album of the 9 months of her 'development' - so you can only imagine what her glorious baby book looked like for the first 3 years of her life. Every moment was captured of my over welcome child.  With archival quality plastic casing and each special moment labeled ... little did I know at the time it would be the last bastion of organization of my life.  Once Darling Son was born (and all hell broke loose around here) things would be different.... his 'book' looks like a grocery circular with lose photos still in brown bags stuffed in a closet somewhere.   So here's what happens when an impulsive ADHD creative-type has a brainstorm.... and it was a 'storm'....

With every great intension, Darling Daughter decided to make a 'special' memory book for me for a birthday gift. She bought an 8" x 8" 'Mom' book with unique heartwarming sentiments -  sounds great, right?  .... she had printed in it with her own touches and embellished with 'stamps' and markers etc.   even better, right?    so when I opened this glorious book with other ADHD family members watching

Taking the lead from her clever, creative mother (what I used to be) Darling Daughter decided to be  especially brilliant and had a plan to create her 'own' memory book - using my pictures. Sounds cute, huh.... I was really touched by the gesture.  That is, until I opened the book to discover that she had removed quite a variety of pictures throught the years from her 'master' book. Seeing how tightly glued (hot glue) the photos were, I carefully asked whether these photos were scanned or color copied..... and, as expected- they were not! She had picked about 70 pictures to retell the story of her childhood with me.   It's what I call (a term I picked up in Corporate World)  'Swiss Cheesing' my gorgeous baby book.    Not a surprise,  really.... it's just the way they think...  impulsive....

I know, I know.... I'm waaaay behind in keeping up with this blog.  There are days when I feel like the living dead and I just don't have the strength to write.   I do have one funny at a time when teenage boys are not particularly funny.  Darling Son has been away for the summer working for a window washing franchise owned by his older half brother.  This experience was his first 'up close and personal' experience with small entrepreneurial business.    After returning home, he came up with the idea of duplicating the window washing business my friend even offered to hire him to wash windows in her new house! - we then gladly offered to drive him to Home Depot to buy a new bucket and a squeegee but he had other ideas. First on his list and he was dead serious..... was a truck to haul 'all the equipment'.  Really?  he doesn't even have a driver's  license!   good one.

Another Glorious Day With My Family

I could begin this post by mentioning that we have had one of the worse winters ever in the Chicago area and that today began with a wind chill factor of 10 below (barely phases me), but that would be boring.  What I want to record is a situation which happened this morning involving my problem-solving challenged group.

Here is the situation;

I woke up to a monumental tantrum by not-so 'Good Sport Husband' with machine gun explatives coming from our snowy driveway from the furthest distance of our house.... It is not close.  I looked out my bathroom window to see his flayling arms as he walked around our the front of our black car in his pj's carrying a bag of kitty litter litter like pixie dust.   Not helping the situation....centainly not to my standards.
What happened next (more screaming) explained the strategy to get the black car out of a snow bank from last night ..... Good Sport Husband (originally from Texas) decided to 'push' the car out using our other vehicle (4/week drive SUV) and he 'lined up' the cars bumper to bumper with darling son directing in the middle and darling daughter in charge of the black car..... what started the ruckus was; cars were not lined up.... (as Darling Son directed) and he smashed the front bumper of the black car and as he was pushing..... pushed Darling Daughter much deeper into the enormous snowbank on the side of the drive way.

Hearing this comotion and with the fear of a crabby neigbhbor calling the police, I leaped out of bed and in bare feet put on my boots and a coat and ran to the scene.   after much yelling and reminding from Darling Daughter that she had a 100 pt. Chemistry test this am and needed to get 'out' I got in an started to 'rock' the car with my boys in back pushing ..... after about 10 attempts and rubber burning we dislodged the car .... I backed it up to the street and Darling Daughter screetched out.    I then went in the house to find her purse .... and to learn that Lollipop (our high-spirited dog) ate Darling Son's breakfast and so the day begins.    shoot me now! 

Another family 'outing' to get 'in'! 😱

After a very long day I trudged up the stairs to my bedroom and I might add (for the first time in recent memory), I had on a dress and heels...my feet were killing me. I then discovered 'someone' had locked my bedroom door and I haven't seen the key to that door for at least 15 years! :( After multiple attempts with every conceivable tool (paperclips even a couple of butter knives and You Tube instructional videos) I reluctantly concluded that 'lock smithing' particularly the 'breaking- in- kind' is not a resume item for me (a first!) so it was onto 'PLAN B' - since this problem was most certainly the doings of Darling Daughter - I screamed for her ass ....here's the rest of the story.....

I was finally 'in' 9:30 pm but with out a 'normal' 12 step fiasco!  I had to retrieve my trusty ladder to then have Darling Daughter scale the top roof (in pitch dark) line (she escaped through her bedroom window) was actually pretty quick with that move (hmm?) then cut the screen wide open with an exacto knife with 'Winnie' the kitten on the other side trying her best to escape! (frankly, I don't blame her!)  Older cats, 'Babycakes' and one-eyed 'Winky' were also locked in - I was high on the ladder in heels and a dress holding the flashlight. Success! We did it! 💪 . Darling Daughter and I problem-solved the situation and broke into the bedroom via second story window!  As expected.... Husband was in bare feet with a tiny flashlight.... directing from below.  Another memorable evening.  (Like snow shoveling). Xo
HOME SWEET HOME - now, leave me alone! 

 

Because I'm Happy (?)

Join in a sing-along! 

Thank you to Pharrell Williams (but this is the time of year for new lyrics!)

(sing along to the tune of "Happy")

"It might seem crazy what I’m gonna do

Each year this may trouble you....

Through the winter our dogs take multiple dumps.....

It’s too cold to pick up so you have to punt!

And now it’s Springtime!

Clomp along as I clean this shit up from my yard!

Because I’m happy!(?)
Clomp along as it's been here a while and I never need a guard! 

Because I’m happy (?)

Clomp along as I wait for the snow to finally clear

Because I’m happy (?)

Clomp along to not track shit through my house with fear!

Here comes the bad news talk’n this and that....

Neighbors far and wide won’t talk behind your back!

Well, I can warn you it’s not that bad

This song to sing will become a new fad….

Because I’m happy (?)

Clomp along as I scoop this shit up from my yard!

Because I’m happy (?)

Clap along if you’re dancing to a smelly shit bombard!

Because I’m happy (?)

Clomp along as I wait for the snow to finally clear

Because I’m happy (?)

Clap along to not track shit through my house fear.

Bring me down

Like a ‘downward dog’

No yoga needed for a snap like this! 
my new scooper is like a candy kiss! 

Bring me down

Like a downward dog

Because I’m happy (?)

Clomp along as I clean this mess from all my darling dogs

Because I’m happy (?)

Clap along as I smell Spring

and eliminate this nasty bog

Because I’m happy (?)

Clomp along as I wait for the snow to finally clear....

Clap along to not track shit through my house with fear.

Because I’m happy

Clap along if you’re sick of bending up and down

Because I’m happy

I have a new scooper which is the best in all the town!

Because I’m happy

My yard will soon be smelling like a treat!

Feel free to help others cheer and give this link a tweet! 

xo The International Laundress!  

Our annual 'vacation' - Brief but full of 'fun' !

 I would have written Monday but I had to rest from our annual gathering at the end of the driveway!  It's our family 'vacation' - always in early February -  remarkable I know!  All 4 of us together.

This family outing began unexpectedly at our house with a primal-like 'Darling Daughter howl' - to plow our driveway which now had 19.3" of snow on it.   A critical 'need' as Darling Daughter has a responsible job and needed to get to work on that day!

She was yelling from the wild....bursting through the 'guest room' door to find me... I'm not much of a 'guest' in this house, but needed some sleep away from our two crazy cats who like to perch on me when I'm in my room - I should have locked the door but I think she would have broken through.    It seems that 'Jason' her friend's friend was retained and reminded just the night before (10:30 pm)  to be sure and PLOW OUR DRIVEWAY  apparently like everyone in my house, he also has trouble following directions. 

Naturally I came to the rescue with night tooth guard still in my mouth- hair in a knot on the top of my head in my 'darling' night-time flannel couture combo attire and a light-weight coat.   It was a 7:15 am departure time and I was still in a fog.   I trudged out in my slipper/clogs to our attached garage to back up my 8 cylinder/ bomber-style tanker- an old SUV truck with 4 wheel drive.  I mightily swear all year round about this vehicle when it comes to gas mileage, but in this case I was ready to kiss the wheels.

We could do this!  I just knew it!   Darling Daughter could easily take my car- it has no gas, but it was all hers.  What I forgot was at the end of the driveway one has to really 'gun it' to get through the pile of snow left from snow street plowers.

 Damn!   should have had my precious coffee because it's not hard to conclude what happened.  Yes,  ME  ....the great driver-of-snow ..... was up to the bottom of the car solid with snow really stuck!   So begins Phase #1    SHOVELING.... because no one ever puts anything back where it belongs (garage) our front door since November, has a blue shovel as a permanent winter accessory outside the door.

 - so Darling Daughter went through the house to 'get it' and left the door open just enough for all 3 dogs to carefully escape. We didn't even notice.....and began the process of shoveling...... Darling Daughter was motivated by  a 'Jason tantrum' in her ankle socks and tennis shoes her light-weight 'scrubs' from the knees down were frozen solid.  

After a gallant attempt.... We continued shoveling to no avail and Phase #2  kicked in.... by then, Darling Daughter had corralled all the wet dogs back into the house after frolicking in deep snow throughout the front yard.   I then rounded the corner of our living room with boots in hand, and squarely slipped on our wet tile floor - (err, I mean smashed my whole left side to the ground) Thank you 'darling dogs'.   It is unquestionably my least favorite way to start my day but thrilled to have not plowed my head into a plaster wall (as I have done before).

I then made an executive decision to increase staff to 'good sport husband' who was oblivious (or so he says) to the commotion downstairs.  After a quick briefing....he started with the 'brilliant' questions like; did you drive forward? or have you shoveled?   Darling Daughter and I were hysterical with laughter as car-removal-from-snow is not his strong point and he prefers to 'watch' the action. 

WE then all agreed to 'beat' on the door of 17 year old Darling Son (afterall, it was a 'snow day') to join the pushing brigade.  So the four of us armed with a large bag of kitty litter (like luggage) actually had a family outing!  I know, a miracle!    No arguing about where to go..... we had our itinerary set.  (1). Shovel  (2). Litter (3). Mom (ME) in the driver seat / 4 wheel drive forward only  :)    (4). All 3 shoving my car from the back and with that effort; our 'family outing' was quickly over!

It was lovely,  although a little cold ( 7 degrees ) and who knows? we could be getting more snow- I'm ready and packed only this time I just may keep going when I get to the end of the driveway .....      XO The International Laundress 

The 'Moment' Was Right..... To Laugh!

Hello to my faithful readers.....

I thought I was done with 'ah-ha' moments until my cute, stylish, high-energy (very opinionated) 85 year old mother ('The Whirling Dervish')  asked me "Haven't you ever had that wonderful totally 'in love' feeling?"   HUH?   She was gushing to me about her new boyfriend 'Phil' - just fully in LOVE.... its resulted in her 2nd marriage proposal since her 2nd husband 'Bill' died 3 years ago. This time, not interested in turning her current name into a lengthy law firm like-title, she has decided to play this one out 'til-death-do-us-part' which at their age, has real meaning. For me, still trudging along in 'survival mode' her poignant question really gave me pause ....... like,  absolute explosive hysterical tears, running down both of our faces!  She has become quite the 'Love Vixen' .... she just kills me. 

It was the first time I had had a laugh like that since about 1991 - We concluded my 'love feeling' was a 14 year old boy I met once on a ferry boat to Nantucket on a family outing  - he had a toothbrush in his pocket and was very cute.  

For me, I married my love interest waaaay back in 1987.  A very 'gregarious', southern-born polite fellow who fidgets and paces -- and (not a surprise) is always busy... busy having a successful career in sales and sales management....it's an 'energy' which companies should pay extra for.  My 'good-sport' husband has been a challenging partner but I have somehow learned to live with this 'fun'.... so as that relates to our children....  

Like most females at 33 my biological alarm went off for childbearing - a 'clock' which I should have hit the 'snooze' button (err, I take that back.... I should have CUT the cord to the socket) and adopted a couple of dogs .... but I stubbornly forged on...     Brutal infertility for years and when almost 39 years old, I had my 1st.... 'darling daughter'   It was a 'happy' time ( that is, until the moment she escaped from her play pen) she then became the wildest, high-energy 'gregarious' kid to ever be born to this planet.  Her cuteness also got the best of me and then like magic (and I mean magic)  - a 2nd child appeared 3 years later (Like the virgin Mary, I'm still amazed) a 'gregarious' son ..... Did I mention this IS the definition of tired!? Having children after 40 anyway is not a pretty picture-----    omg   It seems this genetic combination was littered with 'good sport husband' and a dominate gene (which skipped me) from, 'the Love Vixen' (formally known as 'The Whirling Dervish') .... both are very similar in temperament... together..... they are oil and hot oil.  As a 'gang' together....no words.
  
So our little 4-pack began and through the years 'Gregarious' (a term to 'hit' both children) is a word now with new meaning!  - utter chaos, mouth dropping messes, continuous repairs, indescribable exhaustion.... just thinking about it makes me want to put a colorful belt around my neck

and enjoy a good relaxing swing.
 I could also now ask one of my darling children to do something and if they would comply on the 1st request- that would be quicker than a massive heart-attack.  The other thing I could do is ask 'good sport husband' to follow a simple instruction and not have to repeat 3 times or write it down (and if he actually did it correctly) I would faint and then die.  I might note, over the years, that's like most husbands - only with mine.... it's with gusto! 

Oh, the long days and the short years have come upon me quickly..... Lots of incredible stress, indescribable messes, yelling, screaming, mental breakdowns and all the wonderful medications needed to survive.

Thanks (with love) to Coffee, Prozac, high-blood pressure meds... Xanx, Adderall/Concerta...then Vyvanse and Focalin - the children are now educated and are finding their passion.  As many know, since ADHD went 'mainstream' this variety of child is 'gifted' in their area of interest and if that 'talent' is not uncovered it's a quick path to prison with low self esteem from impulsive stupid behavior.

If you are a follower of this (when-I-feel-like-writing) blog, the direct 'special' gene

for this condition (in our family) comes from 'Good Sport Gregarious Husband'  and it also comes from the 'Whirling Dervish' (My Mother the 85-year old love-struck 'Vixen') - she has always wisely said her 'cure' for ADHD was a leather belt from her father in the 1930's  - and not the kind for a restful swing.  Those were the days.   

We have on-going conversations (err, I mean fights)  about how 'everyone has ADHD' today but normal humans know that is not the case. It's a real condition which drives millions of people crazy (those who don't have it).

So as someone sandwiched between a genetic field of ruckus -  I have become an older (but much wiser)  'Not-So-Good-Sport-Wife/Mother' and at times it's no fun. The years of messes, chaos, disorder sometimes gets the best of me.   Now with my unmedicated husband we find ourselves with more 'quality' time together than either of us like..... it's a term I call ...."Fucking Annoying" but it is what it is- the music of my life!

The needle on this screeching record is scratched and it digs deeply into the grooves of my battered life.

 I now laugh at ridiculous things like 'When the moment is right' commercials.  I'm afraid the moment has never been 'right'.  There, I said it.  ....  Liberating and cathartic like breaking shackles.  Challenges abound! 

My 'goals' in life now and my greatest gift ever would be to have 'good sport husband' join the wonderful life-of-chemistry we all have grown to know (well) and love.   In my world it's called 'survival' and hopefully with that, I won't be 85 when that total 'love feeling' hits! 

xo 
The International Laundress

ME - The Queen of F*&^#$%ing Everything! Anything but 'charmed' !

Another 'Selfie'.... seen through my tired eyes.

This time, I would like to educate readers on the 'Kingdom' of the'Queen of Fucking Everything' (ME) .........  such a ghastly place where I 'rule' .... a place in need of a conquest because it now appears to be controlled by militants (lazy teenagers) who will do ANYTHING but help me within this sovereign state.   

To add to this upheaval -  smelly

animals that make loud noises also follow my every move.   It's a hideous life - one I never imagined, confirming the name of this blog. 

The defiant new 'rulers' direct The Royal Leaders (The King too) as though it is their kingdom and their kingdom alone.    Like radical zealots they come in and out of our locked gates at their fancy - and with every whim leave royal messes everywhere!  They even steal food labeled 'for Mom' and other items leaving a path of remnants which outrages Me !........I AM THE Queen!   

Their charmed loyal following of 'subjects' add to the destruction.   It appears they have all been keenly trained in the same place and I am now a prisoner under home-rule. 

To leave (err, I mean escape) is controversial ....  My 'carriage' has broken a/c so I am truly in an uproar with disgust and desperation. My 'life's' HELL would then follow me to the closest expressway and I would burn the tires to their axle with speed.   

So my favorite part of my day is to now take a 'Royal Nap' in hopes that this will all go away!  Or with an unlikely thought that I have been

in a deep coma for the past 2 decades I barely survive. I pray. This is torture.
  
Where will I find the strength to start military exercises to take back my Kingdom?  I need new ammunition with unique explosives to start a Coup d'état?
 Anyone care to join me?

Quite by surprise, as they grow up, it seems my authority drops to what is now 'dungeon' status.

I am it appears, a new-kind-of tired exhausted peasant.  I hate what is going on in my castle.   The 'King' also feels the same downgrade in status.  

We have tried calmly requesting assistance, then added lovely scrolled hand-lettered notes (duct taped on neon paper) which escalates to direct orders from tower command posts to no avail. The King even roars! and I scream like a fish-wife which is embarrassing and undignified to my earlier status.

Our self- appointed crowned heads-of-state.... 
enjoy barricading themselves behind locked doors while the Queen is working and I say 'Off With Their Heads!'   A plan is currently in place to bring in The Queen Mum (Grammie) to beat them with a tire iron.  

I am so exasperated by the filth and mess which has overrun this Kingdom and like a slave I am going to revolt!  At this point... I couldn't pay a King's ransom to find reliable 'help'.... I need a cleaning crew to rival a small country.

 I know I am not alone... I should form a 'Queen of Fucking Everything' union where we could all plan together.  There are millions of us and in force, we could probably conquer or at best, get 'subjects' like this to magically hold a swifter duster or waltz with a turned on vacuum.

   
With new sanctions 'The Princess' (Darling Daughter) will NEVER again be able to say to my request of 'What the $%^&* were you doing in your room all day'? (while I was out sipping tea in the royal garden).... answering with a straight face;  'CLEANING' oh really?.... my dream is to have her understand when I am outside 'on the grounds' she should be maintaining military-style bathroom cleaning drills and end that exercise with a curtsy to me!  'The Prince', (Darling Son), will not storm out of his throne room with a furious tone after ending a day-long endless video game to assist me with cleaning up huge plops of royal dog feces (outside) and moving heavy fencing (I hate doing that while wearing taffeta).  He will leave his tasks and add others, with a polite 'yesh, me lord' and immediately begin sparkling up the 'moated' area of our basement,

a place where remarkably water goes unnoticed. 

Someday when I do free myself of this life .... (to a place I dream of) it will have a lovely cottage-like feel to it.

Most importantly, there will gates with an automatic code that will be the envy of Homeland Security.  This 'castle' will also have a fresh aroma of beautiful flowers, food which I like and it will be clean and organized.  I will be graced with a regular 'lady in waiting (cleaning)' ....... No one and I mean NO ONE will be allowed 'in' without being granted an order from The Queen (ME).   Even The King will be thrown scraps through the metal gates. 

xo

The Queen of F$%^& Everything 

 (a.k.a. The International Laundress) I wear many 'hats' 

(err, I mean crowns! )  my neck is practically broken.

Mystery Solved- Don't Mess with ME! ..... Hold your nose instead!

Today's ' #Selfie'

Lately I've been saying I need to have an affair with a handyman because I have so many house projects it's overwhelming, expensive.......not to mention EXHAUSTING!   Today I started thinking ...'Lesbian' and have determined what I really need is a good cleaning lady.

Since last posting we have added another animal to our 'gaggle'  I'm not talk'n geese here but the military slang definition of 'an unorganized group of doing nothing'.   This sovereign state of chaos was already at outer limits last summer when 'Eugene' the kitten (a girl) joined cats, 'Winky' (the one-eyed, morbidly obese feline) and our emotionally disturbed 'Babycakes' who now hates everyone and dumps regularly on a decorative heavy plastic shower curtain creatively positioned on my 4-poster king size bed.  Last week darling son informed me Babycakes pooped in my bathroom on the rug and said "Mom, did you see 'it' ?"   'It looks like a heart' !! ahhh.   so sweet... We have changed bedrooms so Babycakes is quite-the-queen.  My next big project is fumigating that room... watch out darling Babycakes.    So on to the roll-call.  We still have 'Tutu' the happy bird .... fully caged and not a bad idea when it comes to messes.    hmm?

The story of our newest animal is a long one - unplanned like an unwanted pregnancy and fueled with a 'Frank Costanza - style-temper'.(my darling husband) -  It begins like all our animals,  we 'foster' for about 30 seconds then fall in love.   But here's the short version....

'Templeton' (who I also refer to as 'Little Shit'....is a very small Pomeranian pooch - an adventurous unneutered little guy who was escaping from a hole in our back fence like a rat.... escaping unfortunately to a neighbor, someone I'll call Mrs. McGullicuddy-always alert to neighborhood happenings and who I might add, had her 'eye' on this dog with hopes of adopting.  .... As 'luck' would have it 'Little Shit' got out (again!) one cold misty April day when I was on my 4th straight day of a debilitating headache.  Once realized....(because we thought he was under the guest room bed asleep) we started screaming and like a military invasion, air-raid emergency plans activated which included driving around the neighborhood in shifts --- boots-on-the-ground in our local park .... me, walking up to children asking if they had seen my little dog. To then realize they were stiffening up and very quickly backing away from ME.

Husband was roaring around in the car frantically searching....  !! also, recruiting other neighbors in this search effort.  Even teenage son was looking!   After about 90 minutes of terror - ready to make lost-dog signs and 'hit' social media .... I decided to text Mrs. McGullicuddy to recruit her help and SURPRISE!  Mrs. McGullicuddy had the dog and had calmly texted my darling daughter 90 minutes prior 'to call her'  This was during a busy animal hospital shift (where Darling Daughter works)  and she still had 4 more hours of work! well, la de da.....  Really??!, ....  I know sounds like I'm making this up!   

Slightly annoyed- like absolutely furious... Being the adults here,  I sent Darling Husband over to Mrs. McGillicuddy's house to retrieve the dog.   At this point, I had a bag of frozen peas on my head and was trying to revive myself from yet another day in this hideous life....and then like magic, I started hearing the 'F' word loud and clear and I'm not referring to 'Frank'...but I might as well have been-  Mrs. McGillicuddy refused to 'give' our dog back to my husband because we were apparently too irresponsible and she had decided to wait to return Templeton to our very 'responsible' busy daughter..... so then it blew!  I should sign this guy up for a sequel to Seinfield. !!

.

 It was from that point that NO MATTER WHAT! We are adopting this dog -- kind of a 'spite adoption'....anyway, it has all worked out.  We aren't speaking to Mrs. McGillicuddy and 'Little Shit' has a nice home with 'sisters' Emma and Lollipop.  In case you don't have a calculator out ...we now have 7 things who eat and shit and SMELL.  (in addition to the kids) 

Ok, now for today's story on why I need to become a Lesbian.... Husband (I'm not going to say 'darling') has been following me around for days telling me how we need to shoot one of the upstairs bathrooms because of the smell. (cat litter etc....)  Usually the culprit is 'Darling Son' who is toilet-flushing-challenged and we are hoping after paying very high real estate taxes, that he will be learning that skill while taking 'Health' in summer school.   Anyway, today was the day Mom (ME) was going to put on my Sherlock Holmes hat (or is it a hazmat suit)  and determine what the hideous odor was coming from that part of the house.    Because of my keen eye and grand experience with this type of work I very quickly identified the problem.  I am such a talent.

 'Responsible' Darling Daughter it seems, had fed a delicious feast of  mushy 'Prime Cuts' Gravy-laden Alpo to 'Little Shit' on a paper plate. (probably a week ago)   Because the downstairs maid (apparently, ME) hadn't emptied the small delicate waste can in that bathroom,  the 'tender meaty bites' which Little Shit didn't finish had started to STINK beyond your wildest rotten diaper.... problem solved.    But in reflection, this whole thing (like everything in my life)  is beyond....

 #1. That 'responsible' Daughter would leave that in the waste basket.

 #2. That Son would take a shower in there with that stench.

 #3. That Husband would follow me around nagging me to find a solution.... with his contribution of lighting cheap candles and opening windows to mask the smell.    REALLY!  Apparently to look downward at the waste can was just too much to ask of this group.

So there you have it.... I am in a very piss-y mood today and have adjourned to my fresh-smelling office with the door closed and my neon 'Sorry We're Closed' sign posted .... stay away unless that is, you are interested in cleaning this dump.

xo
The International Laundress