Incoherent Ramblings of a Crazy Bitch

It's ok to laugh, that shit's funny!

Tag: kids

CHILDREN SENSE I’M CRAZY — January 29, 2015

CHILDREN SENSE I’M CRAZY

/Erica Dyer/Leave a comment

Several years ago I took my kids to New Haven with my friend Angie and her kids. We were doing train rides with Santa. Well we were in the back of the caboose with our kids and there was another kid that had to sit in our area because the rest was filled. This boy was about 9-10 years old, not too little to sit by himself.

He’s sitting across from Angie and I notice he has a train on his jacket. And I say, “Oh look at his coat it has a train how cute.” Angie tells me it was for Purdue. I replied I sure as heck didn’t know that because I don’t watch sports. Suddenly this kid says “You’re crazy.” I tell him that’s not a nice thing to say. So he says it again “You’re crazy.” I ignore the little fucker.

Then Conrad, who was 4 at the time, stands up and points at me and says “Mommy you’re crazy.” I tell him it’s not nice to call his mommy crazy. So this little brat sitting across from me says it again “You’re crazy.” He’s not being quiet either; I think the whole train car heard him. So then my older son, being the smartass he is, starts called me crazy too. I have three kids all pointing their fingers at me chanting “You’re crazy! You’re crazy! You’re crazy!”

Angie is just laughing and laughing. I’m trying to diffuse the situation and make it a joke, “They’re young yet know me so well.” It’s not like I could say what I really wanted to.  I wanted to grab the little brat sitting across from me and toss him off the train. I wanted to act like a child and tell him he was crazy and ugly and his mommy didn’t love him. Dang brat. but I kept my mouth shut and felt like I was in Salem at a witch hunt where all the villagers stand around the accused witch pointing and chanting “WITCH WITCH WITCH” until they strung her up or burned her at the stake. And to think my children were part of it. Hate kids.

Then I’ll be damned another kid called me crazy just a few months ago. I went to a friend’s house to hang out with her, her boyfriend and their kids. I’d never met his kid before so I hardly talked to him. I’m sitting there talking away, like usual, and this kid pipes up, “You’re crazy.” I laughed and asked if he just called me crazy. He again replied that I was crazy. So obviously I can’t go anywhere without a kid telling me like it is. Now I do realize I might be a little out there, and even a little crazy. But dammit, I don’t need reminded of it. And people wonder why I can’t stand kids.

Finding Nemo — November 30, 2014

Finding Nemo

/Erica Dyer/Leave a comment
A few years ago I was on the phone to a friend.  My older son was in the bathroom and my younger son was watching TV. Well when my older son was on the toilet he takes forever and I do mean FOREVER. My friends can vouch for this. We only had one bathroom at the time so my younger son comes to me and says, “Mommy I have poop in my pants.”  “Great!” I yell to my oldest, “You made your brother poop his pants again because you’re taking an hour on the toilet!” Well the little one and I were standing outside the bathroom door and I take off his pants and underwear. It was pretty nasty, kinda runny (sorry to be so crude and graphic) and I tell him to stand by the bathroom and I’ll come back and clean him up. I’m walking away and all of a sudden he says, “ooo, yuck!” I turn around and he’s pointing to the floor (I had carpet) and there was shit all over the floor. So I was still on the phone and I’m yelling that there’s shit on the floor.  Of course my friend was cruelly laughing her head off.

Evidently it had come out of his pants and I walked in it and got it all down the hallway. So I take off my slippers (thank God I was wearing slippers) and get stuff to clean the carpet. My oldest finally comes out of the bathroom and I tell him to clean his brother’s butt. My youngest is yelling “NO mommy clean my butt!” and I’m yelling back “JUST LET YOUR BROTHER DO IT”. 

So I’m on my hands and knees scrubbing this carpet and I notice that I evidently flung shit on the closet door. No idea how I managed that. Must have been some pretty intense cleaning. I clean that off and then I notice there’s shit beside me on the floor (how the hell can this kid crap this much!)  I was hoping to God I wasn’t kneeling in shit. I scrubed the carpet, the door and wipe my slippers off and threw them in the laundry.

I was going to throw the underwear away but most of the crap had fallen out and they were almost new so I decided to rinse them in the toilet like you do cloth diapers. I walked up to the toilet and once again notice that my older son should have flushed twice but didn’t. I flushed the toilet AFTER DROPPING THE UNDERWEAR IN. No idea why I did that. I about shit myself. Of course the toilet starts rising and my kid starts crying “MY UNDERWEAR, MY UNDERWEAR I WANT MY UNDERWEAR!”. I grab the plunger and start plunging away. Couldn’t get them up. I didn’t want to stick my hand down there so I figured fuck it and started flushing. I just kept flushing and flushing. He’s crying for his damn underwear the whole time. Finally I yell “THEY’RE GONE GET IN TUB AND SHUT UP!!!!!” He jumps in the tub and I continue flushing. 

At first the toilet worked but it was slow.  I had a feeling all it was going take was one big crap and the whole thing would be blocked. Somewhere in those pipes were a pair of size 5 Finding Nemo underwear just waiting to clog my toilet completely and make my life hell. Why couldn’t Nemo just find his way back to the ocean. I figured if I did have to call maintenance for the apartments I was going to blame it on my son and say he flushed them.