Three Boys and a Crazy Lady

I Need To Complain Louder

I figured out all my problems on my drive to work today. My problem is that I just don't complain loud enough. It seems all the people who whine and complain and write into news/tv stations with their pity parties - score cool stuff.

Ty needs to come build me a cool house. It doesn't even have to be big. I just need a secret room where I can hide from the boys.

I think you run into a few people who truly have a tragic story and it's great that someone can help them out. But I have noticed lately, especially on message boards, that people are complaining about the basics of everyday life. They just add more steps or details to their everyday problem and suddenly they have a rash of support. You have an idiot couple who gets pregnant and has a kid. Everyone shakes their head. They can barely afford that kid and whine about being poor. THEN they turn around and get pregnant again. Everyone one again shakes their head and calls them all sorts of stupid. They give birth to a child with some problems and suddenly everyone is their best friend and they get cash, clothes, food etc. I don't get this. How does it make them less stupid??

I have three boys and basically I am limited to a job that can only be worked Monday thru Friday and must only be worked between the hours of 8:00am-5:00pm. There are tons of jobs out there that pay a lot more that I will never be able to apply for but I just feel that comes with the territory. I would never dream of going online (or in my real life) and making myself a victim because of the CHOICES I made in my life.

So back to my original topic. I need to complain more. I just sat back and looked at the big picture. I told my 4-year-old it was bedtime last night. We had already read a couple books and he asked me to tell him a story about my childhood. This must be a scene in "Home on the Range" because he has been watching that like it's crack. I told him I would love to tell him some stories tomorrow (now today) but right now it was bedtime and he already had his stories. Then he starts to complain - "But I don't know anysang about you. You NEBER tell me any stories about you. Why don't you want me to know." 20 minutes later he knows about my life stopping short of when I probably should have needed therapy.

But you know what the funny thing is?? I don't have enough energy to complain. It seems so exhausting to me. But then again I could always relax my exhausted body in my new 5,000 square foot house and if I got tired of that I could take a drive around the block in my brand new loaded Ford vehicle. Yeeahhhhh....Hey Ty...call me babe!

posted by Three Boys and a Crazy Lady @ 5:49 AM