A few months ago this very headline was the topic of one of my Facebook posts. I didn’t go into too much detail on the situation at hand, mainly because I was almost certain that a majority of my Facebook friends got the just of it from the hilarious picture I had attached of The Beast on the bus. His facial expression said it all and then some.
It was a normal weekday and in my usual mad dash to haul ass out of the house, we were once again running late. After loading the brood into the car, I put the key in the ignition and immediately stepped on the gas. We would’ve been on our way if it hadn’t been for that darn screeching noise coming from the bottom of my car. I knew my tire had been low the night before and I had the hubby fill it up with air without thinking twice about it. This is usually when my not thinking twice about things comes back to take a major chunk out of my ass.
We had a flat and no matter how grateful I was that it didn’t happen mid-journey, it still left us stranded. What was I to do? Working from home was an option, but considering I had gotten up at the crack of dawn, gotten all of the kids ready and actually had time to take a shower, I wasn’t going to be defeated that easily. I strapped The Beast into his stroller, made sure everyone had everything from the car and told the kids that we were walking. This is when I first noticed it.
“We’re walking?!?!” This question just didn’t come from one of my kids; all three of them demanded answers. “Can’t you just work from home? Why do we have to walk? It’s too far!” The Beast didn’t know what the hell was going on. He just knew that he had the luxury of someone pushing him in his stroller while he sat back and relaxed and that was quite all right with him. “Yes, we’re walking”, I said trying really, really hard not to sound annoyed. “Why can’t we just stay home?”, Gia whined. “We’re not even doing anything in school today!”, Devo declared. Great, the thought of them not doing anything in school really made me regret writing that tuition check a few days back. No matter how hard I tried to get them to see the good that came from walking to school, they refused to listen. They had been spoiled rotten by the luxury of having a ride to school every morning and I was to blame.
By the time we made it to the school I was exhausted. A whole twenty minutes had passed by the time we made it to the before-care entrance. It wouldn't have normally taken that long but Gia insisted on walking without lifting each foot more than an inch and you know how hard it is to walk without lifting up your feet. Kisses, hugs, and the daily reminder to Devo to keep an eye on his sisters, it was now time for me and The Beast to trudge on to the bus stop.
I’ll save you the mind numbing details of this pilgrimage but lets just say that pushing an umbrella stroller across an insanely busy street that has just been covered in new tar sucks worse than having to puke in a port a john. Not that I’ve had experience puking in port a johns, but in my opinion, nobody’s face should be that close to that much shit and piss.
It was upon finally boarding the bus that I made the realization that my kids were not only spoiled rotten but I was spoiled too. I had muttered every swear word known to man under my breath walking with them. I treated it as such an inconvenience to my day without realizing that this extra time with my kids should’ve been welcomed rather than spent bitching at Gia to walk faster. When I was younger, I remember walking to school every morning. When I was in high school, I had to walk almost two miles each way to get to and from. No, I wasn’t barefoot or without a coat like some of my elders have claimed, but man it was bitch! What had happened to me? I had enjoyed walking when I was younger, but now it was different. It was official; I had become a bitchy princess and my kids were my bitchy subjects.
I put The Beast in a window seat near the back entrance of the bus thinking he would enjoy looking out at the view. He, however, was not pleased. He was rather pissed to be honest with you. He even made it a point to stare directly at the door when anyone would come aboard. He gave everyone this despised look and if I could read his mind, I would imagine him asking the question, “Who the hell are you and what gives you the right to sit on MY bus?” To make matters worse, I found him occasionally staring at me with the same look as if he was secretly asking me the question “And why the fuck aren’t you driving?” This is what we had turned our kids into; spoiled little brats. Our actions had gone as far as to confuse The Beast into thinking I was his very own personal driving service. Yikes! We had spoiled our kids so much so that our two year old was in on it.
It then got me thinking about how my husband and I were spoiling them in every aspect of their lives. We brought them the clothes they wanted, Devo received an IPhone for Xmas even though his grades sucked, we were always looking for things to do with them which almost always put us in the hole financially, and I’ve even gone as far as making two different dinners when they hated what I made just so they’d eat something. We had turned our kids into little assholes and it needed to stop. Unfortunately this was a task that was going to take some time considering my husband and I were just as spoiled.
I guess what got me thinking about this was the decision my husband I made last night. Every summer we made a trip out to Cedar Point in Sandusky, Ohio. It was more of a tradition that my dad had started when I was in high school and it’s been going strong ever since. Unfortunately due to financial reasons and me not having the time to take off of work, we made the decision to not go this year. We haven’t told them yet, but I find myself being somewhat afraid to. This is the first time we will have to tell our children, all of them at the same time, that we’re not going to America’s Roller Coast. Were they going to hate us? Most definitely, but what we need to realize is that the hatred won’t last forever. Sure, they’ll be angry for a little while and to honest, so will I. I guess we’ll just have to wait until next year to ride the Dragster. I’m a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. I’m just hoping doing this will help us in our effort to raise more appreciative, understanding kids.
Since this was vent was partly due to my actions more than the kids, I guess I get no treat from my machine. Anyway, I gave my last dollar to Gia for her camp bake sale. Sometimes my kids need a treat more than I do. They do have a bitchy princess of mother to put up with you know.
Oh, and now that it’s summer, I have to drive them to camp instead of school which is way too far to walk. That’s when Flat Tire + No carjack = staying my ass at home!
"Who the hell are you and what gives you the right to sit on MY bus?”
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