Everything Crashing

My sister moved in with us. Yep, with 2 of her kids, and her two dogs. Thankfully an absolutely amazing awesome incredible person we used to volunteer in an animal rescue with took her 20 year old cat, and the litter of 3 kittens she just came home with one day.

This is just going to be a brief mentioning of odd moments.

I have not found a way to explain OCD to any of them. My niece is getting the hang of using the term, but she still doesn’t get that I pull out my hair because I have to, and I can’t stop myself. Even if you relate that she is constantly sucking on her whole freaking hand and can’t stop, or that my nephew needs to wear gloves to clean and arrange things in certain orders, this still doesn’t make sense.

My sister justified staying overnight at her new boyfriends house because she “needed to pay her phone bill”.

There are still bloody handprints on my walls from I had that nervous breakdown a while ago, and everyone is used to them now. I like them.

My niece asked me how long I’ve hated Jesus. Which was difficult to explain that I don’t hate him, I just think his story is a bunch of crap.

She then mentioned when she grows up she wants a mustache like mine.

I’ve discovered that Dr. Seuss was an awesome person, because he didn’t like children or people. We could have been friends, except that neither of us like people, so that likely wouldn’t work out.

I’m trying to find something to do for Dianne’s birthday. Everything I find has reviews saying how good or bad it is for kids. I want to punch those reviewers for only giving opinions related to entertaining spawn.

My sister brought a hoard with her. My house looks like an episode of Hoarders waiting to happen.

She also brought cockroaches.

Our completely insane and blind cat Luna got a new pheromone collar to help calm her down. Included in the pheromone powder coating is a glitter powder coating. This makes no sense.

Today my niece explained she picks at her lips because she likes the blood. My nephew was sitting next to her wearing a full camo face mask that made him look like a serial killer.

I am having some pent up rage issues. I have never used the excessive streams of profanity that came from me as I did last night when we played Left for Dead 2.

When things are horrible, watch this video.

 

(Links to things added later. I’m too tired.)

Whats that noise?

This is a rant. You’ve been warned.

That noise? Oh, that’s children. Yeah, they make that fucking noise. All. The. Time. It never stops. Ever. If you’re sitting somewhere and you hear some irritating sound, like screaming, or screeching, or grating laughter, or whining, that’s children. They don’t make words come out of their faces that do not include those sounds. How is it people with children don’t commit suicide over having to hear this noise all the time? No wonder my parents are drug addicts! Three kids, that noise, all the time? Yeah, good thing my xanax just got refilled. So far, there is not enough xanax for this.

These are the three ways I’ve found to escape the noise: Turn up your TV/Music Machine of some sort/ Computer, put in some high grade earplugs, build a soundproof bubble.

Normally, I just hear the horrible little neighbourhood spawn running around outside, and I can drown them out with electronic devices. However, two children are staying at my house right now. I’m not going to explain the how’s and why’s. Dante should have included children as one of the tortures in a circle of hell.

I haven’t even said anything about the mass amount of grime and germs. Fuck.

(any comments left about how I’m a horrible person for not liking kids, for not doing what ever blah blah bullshit because they’re so fucking special, how if I had kids it would be different, or any other pro breeding crap, will not be approved, so don’t even bother, this is a rant, get over your overpopulating selves)

The Clock that Ticked Once

Apparently I am not like “normal” women. By this, I mean that I will never have human children. Ever. I’ve known it most of my life, and it doesn’t bother me one bit. Has it affected potential relationships? Yes. Does it make other people angry? Yes? Don’t ask me to explain that, I won’t get it. It’s like trying to tell me how much you like football, or…sperm. I have no idea, and I don’t want to try.

Now, I am going to be 32 in a couple of months. I just realized that this is about the time ten years ago that that biological clock I had heard so much about actually ticked for me. It lasted, I would say anywhere from a week to a month. I know it was there one day, and I remember when it left.

I was working for my girlfriend at the times cousin as a Nanny. She had 2 boys, one 6 and the other 9 months. I was there from morning until when their mom got home. I had never taken care of a baby full-time like that before. I would say, about a month into the job, I started seeing these kids in a new light. I started thinking “hey, maybe it is different if they’re your own. I might want one of these. Aw look he’s being cute.” I started talking to my girlfriend about it, which rightly freaked her out. There were three problems with me possibly wanting kids: one, I had never wanted them before, and said I never would. Two, my girlfriend did not want kids. Three, my girlfriend wasn’t in love with me and was basically using me and cheating on me. I didn’t know about that last one till some time later.

Anyways, I remember spending days muddling through taking care of those two kids, and finally seeing what everyone else saw. There was something comforting in that, in the normalcy I suddenly felt. I wasn’t into baby dolls as a child, I never wanted kids, I didn’t even really want to get married. If you have ever been not normal, you might know what its like to suddenly not feel like some mutant that isn’t made correctly. “Oh shit!” said the gods “we forgot to put in her biological clock!”. Yeah.

Then it ended. Those kids would scream, make messes, make me feel so exhausted that I couldn’t function. I couldn’t pee because the baby didn’t like to be left alone for two minutes. I had to get the 6 year old from school every afternoon, even in hail. There was vomit, drool, poop, and “oh god what is that?” slimy things. Some of you are reading this going, aw that’s cute, that’s how they are. You somehow find some of it endearing. Like muscling through the hard times makes the good ones so much better. For me, muscling through the hard times wasn’t enough, I started muscling through the good times too.

As these things happened and time went on, I became myself again. And when I look back at it now, it seems like some drug induced time, maybe a spell? I’m not sure. But I am back to my mutant self that does not, and will not, ever want children. Some will and do vilify me for this. Go ahead, everyone loves forced reproduction. I could give you the reasons why I shouldn’t have children. In fact, here’s an easy one.

 

That is how you see a baby, compared to how I see a baby. You see something snuggly, that smells like talcum powder and is full of giggles. I see a monster attacking me with its hands, mouth, and eyes, trying to give me botulism. They don’t go well with my germaphobia. Their noises make me tense and irritable. Don’t try to say it’s not that way forever, my oldest niece is 12, the youngest is 6. I’ve been around them plenty. And you can go pretty much anywhere and there will be throngs of teenagers there. There is no better for me. Well, better would be another dog maybe. Or a tortoise. Or a rat. I’m an animal person. Anyone in their right mind would not want me to have a baby. There’s not enough medication in the world for that.

To those of you who have children, yay for you. I hope you do well and your kid turns out to be a decent human being. You also probably don’t get this story. But that time you started thinking about having kids? I was right there with you! Then I went and had a beer and never thought about it again.