The days when you want to strangle someone.

Those days are irritating. To say the least.

S. and I, and of course the babies, just moved to a new apartment.  My mom watched Dude and Princess for us, and my dad helped us because we literally had 2 days in which to move a shitload of stuff.... and we moved into a slightly smaller space....so now there are boxes everywhere, I have no idea where ANYthing is...so that is incredibly frustrating when I have 2 people who are constantly asking me where such and such is...and by 2 people I mean S. and Dude...obviously princess doesn't talk yet.   

The move itself went fairly well, S. and I were very anxious to get out of a bad situation with our neighbors and landlord, and the weekend was nice, so like I said, easy enough.  But by Sunday night, after we had the babies back, and I had broken 6 fingernails (yeah it's a little thing, but it's painful sometimes you know?) a very sore back and butt muscles from going up and down the stairs hundreds of times....I was pretty much exhausted and done

Then Monday, Dude was out of control and whiney and freaking out all day.  Look, I get it.  He's 2.  This move is stressful for him too.  I seriously understand.  Even though his room is set up and his favorite toys are out, obviously he doesn't really understand what's going on.  Then when S. got home from work, we went over to our old neighbors house (the neighbors that we had liked) because they had offered to cook us supper so we wouldn't have to also deal with making supper during the move.....so of course Dude was going crazy because he got to hang out with his 2 "girlfriends" and wouldn't really eat, sooooo.....he climbed into my lap to eat his soup....and proceeded to dump an entire mug of milk all over himself and me. 


It was all I could do to not scream. 

It was my breaking point. 

I gently set him down on the floor.  Took the towel that was offered to me as the room went completely hear a pin drop silent.  Wiped up the milk.  Very quickly downed the rum and coke I had been given when we arrived.  And finished my soup.

 I think I deserve some credit for not strangling anyone. 

Why was this the breaking point for me?  Because of the incredibly fast move, I can't find any pants of mine that are clean, and do not have holes in them (meaning the crotch or butt) so that I can wear them in public.  The last pair that I had that was decent? Yeah, those are the pants that got drenched in milk. So now they smell disgusting.  And even though the washer is hooked up, the dryer needs some sort of adapter because the plug-in isn't what we need......all small problems? Yeah.  Can they be fixed easily? Yes.  But between S. working and me trying to unpack and make the apartment livable while entertaining a 2 year old and feeding Princess....these things might not happen until this weekend.

I guess I'm done bitching about something ridiculously small and insignifigant....but trust me, it didn't seem small and insignifigant at the time.  I don't really have to go anywhere for the next couple of days anyway....so I guess Dude and Princess and S. will have to be ok with seeing some holes in the ass of my jeans.

One of the funny things about this move?  S.s ex wife.  Yes, you read that right.

We texted her on Sunday afternoon to ask if S. could call his daughter k. later that night because he was busy moving. 

Her response?  "I will ask her if she wants to talk to you. And as per our agreement you need to update me on your current address, and employers name and address." 

Our response? "As per our agreement you are supposed to be keeping me informed of ______'s health and you still haven't told me what happened last Tuesday" (k. had to go to the doctor because she is LOSING weight, she is almost 6 and only 32 pounds, {{meanwhile, Dude is 2 and 29 pounds}}. Oh and there is blood in her urine, and apparently has been there for quite some time. Awesome.  S. texted her about 3 times every night last week to find out what happened....did he get any sort of response? Obviously not.) 

The part about keeping k's mom updated on S.s employer?  That's funny because as soon as k's mom got the child support agency involved in the situation...yeah, we DON'T have to keep HER informed on S.s info...we have to keep the CHILD SUPPORT agency informed.  Silly girl. 

Oh, and S. never got to talk to k. because apparently 5 year olds can't be told to talk to their fathers.

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