Not In Kansas Anymore...

Click your heels, and see if home is where you hang your hat, or somewhere else inside yourself as this simple, postmodern girl takes on L.A.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

This post should be titled, "I Hate To Be A Bitch, BUT...."


I shouldn't do another post bitching about The Roomie, I know. But here I am again, feeling like my brain is going to explode, so it's either brains everywhere, or blogging. You have my apologies in advance.

So, I woke up today at 5pm. Yes, 5pm. I've seemed to take to sleeping all day again, since I cannot get a quiet moment in my own house where I'm not relegated to my bedroom for 18hrs a day. (During the week, I've gotta figure out somewhere to go and sit and just chill out and get work done, I really do.) Davy was here for his weekend with Mommy and of course, they didn't go anywhere. I'd asked her to try and take him out one of the days when he had his weekends here-- to the park or maybe to a playdate, whatever--just so I can be in my house a few hours freely--but she didn't. Of course not. Why would she? Isn't the whole world enamoured of her child and in service to her needs?

That's harsh, I know. But try waking up to the following on Saturday night and see how you feel:
  • One of my favorite knick-knacks busted. Said knick-knack was on my desk, which I have repeatedly asked her to keep him off of.
  • The house littered with ink pens-- which for some reason, she sees fit to let a 2yr old play with. I really don't care, because that's her (foolish) decision (does "you'll put your eye out" ring a bell?), but I don't want ink marks all over my couch fabric or curtains or walls. Said pens end up on floor, where New Puppy thinks they're fun to chew on. This can only end badly.
  • Sink full of dishes, food on floor. I had asked her to PLEASE take time to pick up this kind of stuff when he goes to bed. Nope.
  • Ripped up paper littering carpet. Why? Because he and dog both love to shred paper. I've asked her to pick up this shit too. Nope.
  • Bathtub filled with toys, bathroom floor wet. Obviously, a bath was had. Again, another discussion item being ignored.
  • Yard toys all over yard, dirt that has been dug up from yard in drifts and piles everywhere on terrace. (Yes.....and nope.)
  • Box FULL of yard sale items completely broken and books, toys, clothes spilling out onto dining room floor.

Call me anal retentive, call me unrealistic about living with a toddler. However, that isn't my point in listing all of this shit. And if you'll indulge me, let me go on to describe how SHE keeps HER things:

  • All manner of craft supplies-- wax, candle makings, bath salts, scents, etc-- shoved into boxes on top of the wardrobe. Okay, fine, right? No. Kid gets into boxes and drags all of this out, and she just shoves it back on top of wardrobe, higgedly piggedly, waiting for him to get into again. Boxes are probably empty now, all the crap is on top of them.
  • Tissue paper/old newspapers from....whatever wadded up and shoved on top of boxes in same area.
  • Various knick-knacks and jewelry in between furniture in LR, having fallen there and never been picked up.
  • Clothes scattered around and hanging out of drawers and hampers.
  • Bed (also couch) is full of toys, torn paper and stuff the dog chews on.
  • Desk is a complete bomb site. Receipts, paperwork, CDs, pens, hair clips, makeup, all piled onto surface. Hell, the Magna Carta could be in there and who would know?

It wouldn't matter to me so much if she had her own room. But this is all in the front area of our home, and when people come over, they have to see it. She doesn't have a lot of pride about that, and gets irritated when I care. I'm sorry, but I was raised to pick up a bit before guests come over, if not for their comfort, then mine. I don't want to be embarrassed by a house that looks like a frat boy lives in it.

I don't know why she doesn't care much for her things, and leaves them around like that, but that's her issue, not mine. What I really care about is her lack of concern for how MY house is being treated. She lets ALL of this stuff pile up and her kid run rampant and then sits around like it's no big deal. And when I get on her case, I get the EYE ROLL, like I'm some dictator. NO, HONEY, this is MY HOME! This is MY STUFF! All stuff I worked very hard for and paid for and have tried to keep nice, and I want to continue to keep!

And on THAT note, THAT doesn't seem to matter either:

A couple of weeks ago I went out to run errands during the day. I came home after she and Davy had left for the bus for the evening. I unlocked the gate to the yard, and stepped in.

And found my front door hanging WIDE FUCKING OPEN.

As was my mouth when I laid eyes on it. At first I thought, "Hmm. Maybe they're still here...." I checked my watch. I walked in, called for them, walked through the whole house.

No. They had indeed left for the bus. And left my house not only unlocked, but the door open like an invitation. Mind you, the gate was locked. (WTF is the logic in THAT!?) The walls are high (6ftish) but are easily scaled, if you're looking to do it.

Needless to say, I almost had a stroke.

And when she came back, I pointed it out to her. She said, "Oh, I'm so sorry, " like she'd borrowed a book and forgotten to give it back. I raised my voice and said, "NO. That's not good enough. See, Annie, this is the first and the LAST time this is going to happen, do you understand? " She said, "I'm sorry!!" like I'd poked her with a stick.

What I didn't tell her was that I had made a decision that day: if I EVER come home and see that again, I'm confiscating her keys. Yup-- you read that right. No keys, no coming and going. You wanna go somewhere? I let you out and in and you don't have any freedom to choose when unless you have to get to the bus. You'd better hope I'm home for anything else. Yes, that's extra work for me, but more peace of mind, so it's worth it to me to teach her a lesson like that.

So. I hate to be a bitch, but.....

In my house, you act like a teenager, and you get treated like one. That's all there is TO it.



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