Skip to main content

Cell Curse

Thursday morning I drove to work with my oldest daughter, leaving the younger three at home.

11:02 - Arrive at work
11:10 - 11 year old boy call: "Mom, can I play with Parker?"
11:12 - 13 year old girl call: *Sob* "That's not fair! I'm stuck home babysitting! Who do you want to play with? "I don't know. Someone." Call "Someone" and call me back.
11: 25 - 11 year old: "I had to run out of the house because my S. was going to kill me."
"I was not going to kill you!" S is on the extension. "Mom, I came home to eat lunch." Great. Feed the 6 year old.
11:35 - I didn't answer.
11:36 - Ignore call
11:37 - What?! "Mom? Hi. I love you, Mom. Hey, Mom? J. ran out of the house because S. was going to kill him but then he came home and fed me. Bye, Mom."
11:42 - "Hi, Mom. How's work?"
11:46 - "Do you have anybody in your office?"
11:49 - "Mom? I'm going to Parker's house now."
11:55 - "I'm holding the cat and she loves me."
11:58 - "Can I make cookies?"
12:00 - "I couldn't find anybody to play with but I don't want to babysit.
12:06 - "Mom? S is sad but I'll make her happy again."
12:11 - "Where are the scissors?"
12:17 - "Have you seen my other shoe?"
12: 20 - "Hi, Mom. How's work?"
12:25 - Ignore call
12:32 - "Mom? Papa called and wants help taking stuff to the dump. Can I go? Will you get Jacob to come home so I can go?"
12:35 - 12:48 - Calling as many people in the neighborhood as I can to find my son.
12:49 - "Mom? Papa's here. Can I go play with my friends? I can cross the street by myself" No. "Yes! Just let me go play with my friends!" Give the telephone to your sister. (I can hear Papa in the background). "I can't find her. 'Bye, Mom"
1:02 - "Hi Mom, it's J." Good. You're home. You're babysitting. S is going with Papa to the dump. "What?! That's not fair!" Let me tell you what's not fair, young man. Life. Don't expect life to be fair. What's not fair is that I've been answering calls all morning that shouldn't have been made. What's not fair is that you have played every day with your friends while your sister has been babysitting. What's not fair is the dirty laundry and pee on the toilet...etc. etc."


1:06 - Email to husband:


After call #21 from home (I jest not), I turned off my damn cell phone.

Your turn.



Comments

  1. If this isn't both a ringing endorsement to why I don't carry a cell phone in addition to advertising for birth control and Valium (in that order), I don't know what is.

    Hang in there. Turn on your phone, but use call forwarding to your husband (in case they are less eager to call dad).

    ReplyDelete
  2. Nobody ever calls my cell...LOL! visiting from Mama Kat's!

    ReplyDelete
  3. I feel the same way about mine. No one ever leaves me alone!!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Just reading this makes me want to smash my cell phone to smithereens. I SO know that feeling of answering the phone with "WHAT?!?!?!"

    ReplyDelete
  5. OK, 11:55 made me burst out laughing at my desk. And like DysFUNctional Mom -- I can so hear that "whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat"!

    ReplyDelete
  6. That is ... my future, I can tell. When does school start again?

    Hang in there !!!!

    ReplyDelete
  7. Well I have now had my PTSD triggered from the days when my kids were younger I worked during the summer. It's okay. I know some great therapists.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Think you'll miss it when they grow up and stop calling?

    ReplyDelete
  9. 10:00- "leave a message after the tone"
    10:02- "Caleb, Caleb, where are you?"
    10:04- "leave a message after the tone"
    10:07- "Will you come get me? I want to play. My mom said you would"
    10:10 "leave a message after the tone. Was that the tone?
    10:12 (you get the idea)

    Machine is full. Yes, Caleb does want to play.

    ReplyDelete
  10. The above comment written by my sister, quoting from her answering machine that my son filled up with 30, yes, THIRTY messages.

    You're welcome.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Best.post.ever!

    My favorite was "Mom - what's there to eat?"

    How would I KNOW? You are the one standing in front of the fridge and/or pantry - you tell me!

    And worse, I didn't know half the crap that went on at my house during the summers while I worked until I stumbled on some old videos. Let's just say, I am surprised that they all lived and that cops weren't a regular occurance. Sheesh - how do we survive??

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Most Dreaded Words

 Everybody knows that Christmas is about keeping the Santa Secret and pleasing your children. Therefore, the most dreaded words are uttered on Christmas Eve. "I changed my mind, I want a [pony, scooter, bike, Red Rider BB gun]" A close second place winner is, "Can I have a New Year's Eve party?" Then, "Me, too?"

Too Sick to be Sick

I am sick.  Really and truly sick.  I even took a sick day and felt no guilt whatsoever that maybe I wasn't sick enough to have a "sick day."  Because I am.  My 5 year old was sick, too so I took him to the doctor.  I refuse to acknowledge that I'm sick because I don't get sick.  So with absolute glee, my little boy climbed up onto the table, stuck out his tongue and conversed with the doctor.  I heard something about cloudy ears and antibiotics and then I just turned it off. It hurts when sound reaches my eardrums. We drove back home, I turned on the television, brought in the dog, and let the babysitting begin.  I crawled back into bed and swam somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness.  The kids came home from school.  I might have acknowledged them.  I made chicken noodle soup from scratch.  I couldn't even think.  My husband caught me in a sway and asked what he could do.  I grunted some terse instructi...

I Hate Pants

I wrote this on my Facebook page: Makayla just wandered upstairs and found me reading on the sofa, pants discarded, as usual. She laughed at me. I laughed at her. Then I realized that Makayla Jensen is not my daughter. Go home, Makayla! I'm not putting my pants back on just because you are here!  There are now two camps. People who agree with me and people who have absolutely no idea why anybody would discard pants upon entering home. Fortunately, I've found that I'm not in a camp all by myself. I found an article of 10 Reasons Why I Hate Pants: Best summed up by this Venn Diagram sent by Scott's cousin: