Karma’s a Bitch With a Needle

We all go through phases in our lives and I’ve been through my fair share. There was the new wave/punk phase, the “experiment with everything my parents hate” phase, the “This is FlyBoy and I LUV him” phase (which coincidentally occurred in the height of the “experiment with everything my parents hate” phase).

Not all phases are of our choosing. The “poodle permanent, oval plastic frame glasses and braces” phase was definitely NOT my choice (though I did cap it off with the Madonna inspired neon ankle socks & fingerless lace gloves).

Right now I am in a phase that I didn’t choose. Oh, sure, I played a part, I admit that I can’t keep my opinions to myself. Particularly when I: 1.) am asked, and 2.) am paying the mortgage, doing most of the laundry, cooking , grocery shopping and managing the schedules of 4 out of 5 members of the household. And so, I now find myself firmly entrenched in the “You’re the worst mother in the world” phase of my life.

It isn’t a phase that one actively seeks out. No mother aspires to reach that status. You just kind of fall in to it. And once you do, it’s a bitch to get out of it.

The “You’re the worst mother in the world” phase is a bit of a catch-22. You can’t get into it if you don’t really care about your kids, but it’s so hard to get out of it because you care about your kids. I could easily get out of this phase by just deciding that I don’t give a shit anymore. Believe me, I’ve thought about it. I’ve run through the scenarios and here’s how I see that playing out: I tell my kids that I don’t give a shit anymore. “I don’t give a shit if you clean your room, use shampoo in your hair, flush the toilet or do your homework.” They, in turn, grow up to be lazy, smelly, under employed idiots–though arguably the most dedicated video game players known to mankind–who can’t keep a roommate or job because of their slovenly ways. At some point, they are going to need rent, or bail, money (again due to said slovenly ways). They are going to swear to pay it back, or work it off, and because I know better, I’ll have to say “No”. And at that point, I’ll once again enter the “You’re the worst mother in the world” phase.

So, here I am stuck in this phase while it plays out. Which brings me to Karma. And the needle. You see, my precious, darling children–the ones who talk back, indignantly break rules, and try to tattle to my husband when I punish them–had a little surprise after school today. Oh, yes, my friends, it is flu shot season. And I admit I took a very sick and perverse pleasure this year in hauling my brood to the flu shot clinic.
don’t judge, I’m not in the mood. EVER

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