December 12, 2011 by Kim
The children hate me.
Not all the children…. just mine
and it’s an evil kind of hate
Not the kind of hate where they’re mean to my face…
I could probably handle that a lot better
It’s the kind of hate where they pretend to adore me…. while pushing all the right buttons to make my brain spin.
I diagnosed myself with OCD many years ago.
I like diagnosing myself with stuff…I tried diagnosing myself with anorexia once, to lose weight…
It didn’t work…
I guess you actually have to “not eat” and stuff…
yeah, being hungry sucks…
Anyway… I’m extremely particular about the way things should be… or should look.
I prefer odd numbers to even
I treat my grocery cart like a game of tetris
When I hand money to a cashier… I have to rearrange the bills to make sure they are all facing the same direction
In my mind… it all makes perfect sense.
In my mind’s mind… I worry that I’m going to end up one of the crazy people wandering Main St, in my 50s
I knew tonight was going to stir up my issues.
Our big fat Christmas tree had been standing in the corner…. nude, for 3 days
I had promised the children that they could decorate it, for 3 days
Something always seemed to come up, for 3 days
Tonight, I knew, was the night…
If I waited much longer they’d be decorating the tree after Christmas day… and I’m pretty sure there are laws about that… or something
So, I called my 3 boys into the room…. opened the new box of ornaments I had bought and told them to go at it.
As the boys happily approached the tree, I fled to the computer and tried to lose myself in Facebook
but, I knew….
I knew what was going on behind me
Briefly glancing over my shoulder, I nervously reminded them not to put the same colors right next to each other
Not one child acknowledged my request so I whispered the rest of my plea
“try to space them out…. don’t hang any on the very bottom… and don’t put any on the back because we can’t see them”
I don’t know who I was talking to but it made me feel better to have the words pass my lips.
They were done terrorizing the Christmas tree after about 7 minutes
When they came bounding over to me, anxious to show off their work… I pretended to look and told them that it looked nice…
Still high from the euphoria of simultaneously getting to manhandle the Christmas tree while pushing mom head-first into a crazy town panic attack, they ran off to their rooms.
After 5 minutes, I talked myself into looking at their work.
I slowly turned in my computer chair and gazed at the ornament filled tree
For a brief moment, I saw nothing wrong…
and then something pulled my gaze towards the bottom of the tree…