...Crazy mom seeking cheer

I cannot believe that Christmas will be here in two weeks. What the hell??????? Our household has been a complete blur since Thanksgiving. Confession: I broke my rule of no Christmas decorations before Thanksgiving and I think I have whipped up a shitload of craziness because of it. Thanksgiving break brought cold wet weather and to keep myself from running through the neighborhood naked, I decided it would be fun to go ahead and get started on Christmas. The whole family was experiencing a serious case of cabin fever. So, nothing like a tree and some lights to show us the end of the tunnel. The SBF brought down 12 boxes of Christmas mania from the attic and walked away. His job was finished. I began the task of Christmas cheer. Ten minutes into the madness, I realized our prelit tree was no longer prelit, but I was prepared. I had purchased tons of Christmas lights. There was Christmas music playing in the background and I knew this would be a moment of happiness...true bliss.

Within thirty minutes of this process, my house looked like a fraternity party gone bad. The Divas had stepped on and smashed several strands of lights. They were fighting over who could climb in the boxes and the SBF had decided to put on some "African spiritual music". We are a family with a vast variety of musical tastes, but I wanted damn Christmas music. I wanted the f---king cheer. The Divas loved it and decided to turn over boxes full of ornaments and beat the empty boxes like drums. I think I bit a hole in the side of my mouth, but I did not say a word. I continued to "fluff" out the tree. For one second, I became fearful that one of my ancestors would come out of the tree and choke the shit out of me. Why???? Why did my house sound like this...the screams, drums, and mumbling had me thinking we participating in some voodoo craft. As they pranced around and the SBF sang into a microphone, I went through my ornaments. Long gone are the days of fancy ornaments. All of my ornaments bounce. It took me three years and numerous broken glass ornaments to realize that I had to make the switch. I was finding some peace in meticuously placing every ornament in it's

designated spot until the SBF decided to scare the shit out of the Divas with his "moans" on the mic. So, they ran to me wanting to help. I told myself this would be a moment they would remember. So, I foolishly accepted their help. The fighting and crying that erupted caused me to black out a couple of times. I watched them push each other into our Christmas tree, fight over ornaments, bite, wrestle, and snatch Christmas shit for the next thirty minutes. I stepped back and allowed them to put six ornaments on one limb only to watch them all fall to the floor. I said nothing. The rage inside of me had left me speechless. The oldest Diva began to chase Miss B around the house with a stuffed Grinch which she's scared shitless of. The SBF was still singing and I contemplated walking out the door. Finally, I could not take anymore and I let lose a good old "F--K" followed by some shit that sounded like I was speaking in tongues. They all stood there frozen as if I had lost my mine. They had their "mommy said "f--k" while putting up the Christmas tree" look....blasphemy!!! The SBF cut the music off and escorted them to bath time. I flipped him off as he walked by. I decorated the whole damn house by myself and it currently looks like I had a Christmas seizure. Every corner of my house is decorated with Christmas cheer to the point that I want to vomit.

(check out the shard of ice coming out of his cheek)

Miss B begged me to put up outside lights this year. So, I did...hoping it would make her Christmas extra special. Currently, there are lights going half way up the only three trees in our front yard because I didn't have the courage to climb a ladder and go all the way to the top. I also have three wooden trees that are lit up by 100 watt flood lights. They shine so brightly onto the trees and into our house that there is no longer a need to turn one damn lamp on. Matter of fact, I think those sons of bitches are actually heating the house. There is an orange forty foot cord going through our front yard and at the end is what is sure to be a fire hazard. But there are candy canes, lights, and an inflatable snowman damnit!!!!!! The front door is nicely decorated. So, I am at peace with the debacle and I could give a shit what the neighbors think. The shocking part....the Divas could give two shits about those lights. They only think of them when they want to bring up something mommy is not doing right. A couple days of ago, Miss B came to me in her scolding voice "Mommy the snowman is not up?"  In my head, I said "f--k you" and then asked for forgiveness. I put on my green suede slippers on and marched through the wet frozen grass and proceeded to pry a frozen completely flat snowman off the ground. I screamed. I cursed. I yelled. That bitch ass snowman was going to inflate if it killed me. I snatched the wet cord and plugged it into the strip of hazard and prayed it would electrocute me...not kill me. I just wanted it to shock me to the point I would pass out in the wet grass for a while. It did inflate and there was a nice shard of ice sticking out the side of it. I felt it was symbolic of how I was feeling. I stomped my frostbitten ass across the yard, entered the house, and proceeded to scream to the SBF not to unplug one damn Christmas decoration... "EVER!!!!" and I called him a son of a bitch. Oh. Yes. I. Did.


To continue our Christmas cheer, I decided to purchase a gingerbread house. I went over a friend's house and fell in love with her nicely decorated gingerbread house. What a great idea for my Divas? I came home with the box and their faces lit up with joy. I cleaned off the kitchen table and vowed that I would be happy and joyful during the entire process. I told myself I would not get caught up in how they decorated the house. I wanted them to cherish the memory. First, the bitches began to plead with me to allow them to eat the damn candy for the house. Miss B could not understand why she couldn't bite into the roof. You would think I deprived them of sweets. I ignored the nonsense and the fighting over peppermints and began to squeeze out the white icing aka as white crack. Those bitches saw the icing and lost their mind. They begged to eat it and I started screaming "It's for the damn house". One of them suggested using glue and I almost went to a dark place. We put the damn house together and I ignored the fact that Miss B licked the icing off of one side. I ignored the fighting over gumdrops. I quietly watched them make a complete f--king mess. When it was finished, I decided to take a picture. I bullshit thee not....3 seconds after snapping a photo the damn house fell apart. They screamed and I just stood there. The SBF came running and had the nerve to rub my shoulder and comfort me. "You tried your best" he said. I politely whispered in his ear..."I could give two f--ks about that house. Y'all are driving me f--king crazy". The Divas tried to put it back together and were unsuccessful. I said nothing. I watched them eat the icing and candy. I even watched Miss B take at least 5 shots of green sugar crystals to the head. I left the shit of a mess on the kitchen table and climbed into bed. Miss B ran around for 3 straight hours in circles due to a sugar high and I watched TV.


Now on to our elf...Mr. Jingle Jangle. He is male and he likes to wear skirts. Don't judge him. I have developed a love hate relationship for this little shit. I hate to admit he is over Jesus in our house right now. Miss B will shit bricks if I tell her that I'm going to tell Jingle about how she screamed for five miles on the way to school because she didn't want to wear socks. Homework, extracurricular activities, and Christmas parties have taken over our life. So by the time I crawl to bed, I don't want to do anything nice to that Jingle. I seriously thought about cutting his damn arm off to traumatize Miss B. One night, he did not move because he was placed on the "No Fly" list due to the banshee like screaming that had occurred from all three Divas at supper time. My ability to create funny little situations have turned into some "Shining" shit. I giggled one night as I wrote a message from Jingle on our chalkboard in the kitchen. I wanted to write "redrum". Yep, that's where I am on the holiday cheer list. I hate the ELF ON THE SHELF!!!!! But for my children, I will still participate in the nonsense.




I am tapped out and still have two weeks to go. I am ready to remove all of the red and green shit in my house. I don't want to listen to Feliz Navidad on repeat every day. I want to drop kick Jingle's ass into the front yard by the inflatable snowman with the ice shard sticking out of him. I remember Christmas as a child and I would literally sit quietly for hours and stare at our Christmas tree. It was pure bliss or either my mother drugged me during the holidays with Benadryl and I was hallucinating.

After our Christmas Pageant at church tonight, I will have my cheer alright. It's going to come over me as I pop open my champagne and drink directly from the bottle. And I will sing loud and merrily "Cheers and to everyone....goodnight!"

...Channel 0

If I could describe the physical and mental state of the Davis Household right now, I would suggest to turn to Channel 0. You see that black and white fuzzy screen with white noise. I think some refer to it as "tv snow"...that's us!!!! We visit this channel often...

We are almost 3 weeks into the school year and the excitement has worn off. The Divas have homework and extracurricular activities. Fixing their lunches in the morning has lost their "cuteness". Picking out their clothes at night makes me tired. The adrenaline we experience is always great the first 3 weeks and then the SBF and I wake up and we look like we have been on a drug binge involving "tv snow or tv blow". We our low on energy, contemplating vacations away from each other, and over the whole "school" business.

Back to school requires routine, organization, patience, and a shit load of sanity. The Divas are getting harder to wake up. The homework is getting heavier. The smiles and waves in the carpool drop off line in the morning have faded. Right now, I try not to throw my hands in the air when a parent kisses their
child twice in the carpool line. Immediately, my self talks escalate to "This bitch should have kissed her kid 8 cars back. I have two more f_____g drop offs. Goooooo!" Calling out spelling words has ended. I just enter all of their shit into spellingcity.com, let them go at it, and walk away. The lunches have gone from extravagant fresh fruit with cute little notes to bagged chips and a smilie face scribbled on a napkin. The emails and texts to volunteer are no longer greeted with a smile, but a "WTF, I'm not Jesus." The drop off at tumbling for an hour is no longer a hand in hand skip to the door, but a get out fast because I have to go pick up your sisters goodbye.

Maybe we are on the wrong channel because we put too much into it at the beginning. We go all balls out and then all of a sudden...I can't get out of bed on Sunday, our house is a wreck, there is a pungent odor that won't go away, and the kids are fighting. I lit so many candles in this house yesterday, you would think we were getting ready to "exorcise the demons". The SBF discovered his blood pressure is elevated. F____k!!! My psychiatrist put me on a sleeping pill the same day. WTH??? We both can't go down. Someone has to stay strong. It's a fight to "who will tap out first".

Yesterday afternoon, I thought our Channel 0 was going to jump on over to disconnected cable. The SBF locked his keys in his company car. We are very different in how we lose our shit. My shit fits come very often, so it's no surprise when I start dropping F bombs. The SBF maintains his cool most of the time, but when he "drops his basket"....the episode is terrifying and insanely comical at the same time. He is known for literally running away on foot from closing his finger in the door. He is known for opening the patio door and flinging a bag of chicken out into the kudzu. He is known for taking off on his bicycle. So, yesterday I witnessed his eyebrows move from a horizontal to vertical state. His legs began to shake at his desk and the vein in his forehead began to bulge. Miss B asked if he was sick and instead of me replying "sick in the head". I told her he was just frustrated and needed a timeout. I sat in the bed and tried to remind him that his blood pressure was already elevated, but it was too late. I tried not to giggle in anticipation of what would happen next. I also tried my best not to be selfish and say "Please keep your shit together because I have 3 PTA meetings this week." I sat for 20 minutes listening to him take deep breaths and angrily type on his computer. When the locksmith showed up, he just sat there. I finally convinced him that he must go outside to meet the guy. I was waiting to see his car blast out of the driveway backwards while burning rubber. I was waiting for the f___k screams to begin.

Instead, he returned with his eyebrows still "at attention" and began to get the Divas ready to go to the Lake as promised. I wanted to take each one of the Divas and explain that daddy is on a bad station and to please be gentle with him. They all calmly piled into his car as if to already know that daddy was having an episode. I watched them drive off and said a little prayer. Dear sweet baby Jesus, please let no one cut him off while driving, please let the Divas show their appreciation for a trip to the Lake, and please give me the motivation to clean this house and not waste my free time on FB or pinterest.

They later returned all in one piece. They seemed normal and happy. There were no looks like "daddy said f___k five times in the car". I cautiously approached him and gave his crazy ass a big hug. I even whispered how proud I was of him for keeping his shit together in his ear. He chuckled and confessed that he almost "took off walking", but didn't want to scare the Divas. Bless him for his will power.

Hopefully, by midweek will be back on a normal station...preferably an HD channel. The Divas set their alarm last night and it went off at 3 am. They woke up and got fully dressed. Confession: I slept through it all. I assume they woke up the SBF and he made them go back to bed. I woke up to Miss B fully dressed and shoes on and asleep next to me. I tried not to laugh when I looked at their bewildered faces when I got up. Their eyes were red and they were swaying from side to side.

Today, I plan on climbing the roof and shaking the hell out of the satellite for we must get it together

....liar, liar...mama's on fire.

It was bound to happen. We all have our skeletons, our demons, our secrets. For 14 years off and on (so, I guess actually 9), I have been able to remain in the closet about a nasty little habit of mine that I picked up in college. 

I knew the lying about having to spray the garage every night with bug spray would get old. I knew the hiding in the woods would only take me so far. I knew the littering roof guy could only visit our house everyday before the Divas got suspicious. 

Last week, I was "spraying for bugs in the garage when Miss B opened the door and yelled out "mom are you smoking again?" Holy hell almighty. I think I crushed the cigarette butt in my hand and yelped no. Wtf??? How did she know???

A friend sent some pictures to my middle child for her birthday along with a present  and there stood my oldest holding a picture of me smoking. Shit!! I politely removed it quickly from her hand and walked away. I did not acknowledge the photo at all. I said nothing. Twice in one week!! Wtf???

Well, Ward 5 had pushed me to the edge by Sunday. The SBF was having a mood swing. Three Divas were bored. So, I ran outside for refuge. The SBF came outside to inform me that Miss B wanted to know why she couldn't just play outside while I smoked. F____!!!

Well, the SBF asked her how she knew I smoked and she blamed it on the middle Diva who then denied it. The SBF had decided months ago to stop covering for me. So, everyday was a risk. My closest friends know I smoke and maybe 5 family members. So I know this little confession is going to lead to some phone calls. 

Shit!!!!!! I threw my butt on the ground (no reason to hide it) because I was busted. I walked in the house to 3 little Divas scared and shocked. Muck me!! Muck me!!! I confessed and apologized for lying and doing something unhealthy. I told them I would quit. I have been able to quit cold turkey before...pregnancy/breastfeeding. So, I quit. I felt short of going before the Church and confessing all the sins I had committed after a Friday night football game as a teenager. 

The PBS after school special that was taking place in my house made me want to faint. The questions got harder. My heart broke into pieces. I knew better. I have always known better. A cancer survivor with a family history of various cancers including lung cancer makes me a candidate. They were supportive of their mom's fall from grace. They were forgiving and loving. The middle Diva even said she may try smoking as an adult. Wtf....maybe she was trying to make me feel better. "Try your best not to ever try it" is all the advice I could give at that moment. What had I done??? 

I am aware of the risks of smoking. I have dealt with the guilt for many years. I have seen the effects of smoking with family members. In a sick way, I have always been intrigued by it. It brought a sense of freedom and rebellion. Honestly, I like it, but I love those Divas and I need to do a better job at loving myself. It has been a habit that has brought such peace and comfort. A habit that took away the loneliness. A habit that allowed me to get away from the noise, the kids, and the constant movement. For a couple minutes, I was free and alone. 

So, I am on my second day and I have cheated a little. Last night, I drove the Divas sixty miles to Best Buy to get the middle Diva's Kindle Fire HD fixed. After driving in heavy rain, we arrive at the store. I walk in with all three kids beside me exhausted from working all day and I go find my geek. The geek plugged the damn thing up and it worked. He gave me a look like "take your meds lady". I whispered while staring at him "I should not have quit smoking today."  I was getting ready to call him something when the middle Diva loudly declared she was hungry...bitch!!!!

I calmly left with a now working Kindle Fire and three hungry whiny kids. While in the Wendy's drive thru, I started blaming the three Divas and the SBF for bothering the shit out of me to the point that I almost hide under my car in the garage to smoke a cigarette. These assholes were driving me insane with their constant needs, wants, wishes, desires, and expectations. I had played super woman for too long. F___ this shit!!

We arrived home to find the SBF smiling. I had written him off. He had gone out and bought a candle for my "bravery". All I could think of was..."kiss ass". I know...awful me and bless his heart. I kept myself busy doing community service stuff. Then a wave hit me.....

I approached the SBF and said I was going to kick his laptop out of his lap. Plain and simple....that is what I felt like doing at that moment. He nervously giggled from what I recall and the shit fit I had began. The conversation ended with the SBF asking if I wanted to watch True Blood and me saying I would rather put shit in between my hands and clap. I saw that little phrase on Pinterest and had been saving it. 

I am glad to report the SBF is still alive. Apologies have surfaced and washed the "shit" from last night away. I vow to stop for my family and myself. I know the mood swings and cravings will subside. I had chest pains while trying to figure out the oldest Diva's school schedule earlier, but the pains subsided. The days will get better. I know this. 

Disclaimer: please do not offer up any judgments or bad vibes or mean words...unless you are Jesus. He's the only one I am answering to right now.