We've had an eventful evening tonight.
After much back and forth on should he, shouldn't he, Tony decides finally that YES he is going to drive the 14 hours (he says 14, I say 17) to Va, to look at our housing options. He had actually made this decision earlier in the day.
So, tell me WHY after laying about all day doing nothing, he tells me FIVE minutes before he leaves he needs the insurance card for the car. While I'm weeding through all the credit card offers and junk mail that I've saved to be shredded, the kids are bouncing on my LAST nerve.
They had been fighting over this fucking punch ball balloon all afternoon. One would have it, and then mercilessly tease the other one for not having it, causing crying. Then, the balloon would be forgotten about by the teaser, then the teasee would quickly snatch it, and then the roles would be reversed.
I was really fucking sick of it.
Finally, after hearing "Mommy! I want the ballooon WAAAAAAHHHHHHH" 200 times, I snatched that fucking balloon, took a pen and jammed it in. The pop it made was like a cool balm for my nerves.
There. Balloon ordeal over.
Both kids stared at me with their huge fucking kid eyes, lips quivering, tears welling, then oh the wailing. It was like I murdered a puppy right in front of their eyes.
Aislinn wailed "I want my bouncy friend! I want my bouncy friend. You killed my bouncy friend" Jonny wailed "My BALLLOOOOOONNN! Why'd you pop it? My BALLLOOOONNN" This went on for about fifteen minutes. Thank God the windows were down. They were running around, screaming, crying, pounding the floor, slinging tears and snot everywhere. I tried to ignore it, but I couldn't help it, I felt a giggle rise in my throat. I had to run to the bathroom, where Tony was taking a shower and laugh and laugh.
I am a horrible mom.