Manic Monday

I've always loved The Bangles song of the above title. It sums up exactly how I usually feel on a Monday morning: I have to drag my self away from my dreams (although I've never kissed Valentino by a crystal blue Italian stream), then I struggle to wake up enough to get ready for work, then I rush to get to work and only barely make it on time (and I only live 5 minutes away!)

But I figured I better post something, lest I be accused of having, like another Blogger who shall remain nameless (but his name begins with "E") a "case of the Mondays". But I don't have much time, as this is a busy day for me (last day of the month = payroll reports, end-of-month financial reports, mileage logs to be updated and turned in, etc), plus the usual work of making sure everything in the office runs smoothly. So... here's a brief update on Life with Stinkbumps.

Jamie is at Papaw's this week. It almost didn't happen that way, though. On Saturday evening, Jamie and I went for a bike ride. When we came back in, Jamie went to the refrigerator to get a drink. Dad has a rule that Jamie has to ask before he can get in the refrigerator (otherwise Jamie winds up with about 5 drinks open all over the house at the same time). Well, Jamie forgot to ask first. Dad pipes up with "Weren't you supposed to ask first? Go put it back." Which I'm fine with. But then, Jamie put it back, waited a few minutes and then asked if he could get a drink. Dad said "No." Well, I'm sorry, but we'd just been riding bikes out in 100-degree weather, and we were both hot and thirsty. So then I told Jamie he could have my drink. Dad had already made his point by making Jamie put the drink back in the first place. I thought Dad was taking it too far.

So, typical of my father, he gets all mad and says pack up your $h#t and get out. I looked at Dad and said "How typical of you", calmly got all our stuff together, packed up the car and dog and started to leave. All the while Dad's grumbling about how it was his d@mn house and his f---ing rules. I told Dad he had already made his point by making Jamie put the drink back the first time, and that carrying it further was merely being childish. Then I told him to have a good week, and Jamie and I went out and got in the car and started backing out. Dad came running out and said "come back in". I told him he had told us to leave. Then he apologised and asked us to please come back in. So we did.

Poor Jamie though started crying then, because he had wanted to leave all along. It ripped my heart out, but I had no babysitter for today. And I've asked Jamie over and over again why he doesn't want to stay with Papaw, and his answer is always that he's bored. Well, sorry baby, but you can't always get what you want in life. If Dad was harming Jamie, then of course he wouldn't have to stay. But just because Jamie is bored - well, tough cookies. I can't afford to pay a babysitter all the time. Jamie just has to tough it out for now. But I did concede that if things got too bad, I'd come down and get him one day after work this week. But he had to have a really, REALLY good reason for it. I don't want to ask him point-blank if Papaw's done anything to hurt him, because then he'll get the idea that he can lie about it and I'll take him home. But I've also made it clear that he can tell me ANYTHING. So, we're now at an impasse.

Got to get back to work now. I'm done rambling on about Jamie. Ya'll probably get tired of me writing about our little dramas and such.

Everett - I hope you had fun with the church group this past weekend. Tooz - I hope your knee is feeling better. Ann - Good luck with your new job! Lydia - PYFU and don't forget to drink plenty of water! Tara - I hope Aidan is going to bed when he's supposed to. Becca - I hope you aren't being driven crazy by your job (it's hard when you first come back from vacation!). Julie - I'm sorry you and your kitty had a bad weekend. Suze - I'm glad you're enjoying your parents' visit! Joel - Love you, Bubby! I hope you're having a good day. I'll try to call you sometime this week on my lunch break.