Because I need more stress in my life...

Stressor Exhibit A:
I think I hafta take Fa for her very first haircut. I hate to do it, but she's -a gettin' wiley! I have to fight to comb her hair now because her ends are all knotted and tangled...I am dreading this...for many resons:

• she's afraid of everything
• she hates strangers
• she probably won't let anyone touch her
• she will cry and scream and come out with a crooked haircut
• I will cry and scream and try to be calm but will ruin everything
• how am I gonna let a stranger go at the wriggling, screaming mess with scissors?

But I think it's finally time. We might just hafta bite the bullet and get motivated.

Stressor Exhibit B:
I hafta give this dang dawg bath. He stinks. He steps in his own poop and walks right through the house. I wipe his paws with baby wipes but then he just tramples through the dood all over again. I can't find a tub to put him in. Do you believe the asshole at Petco told me to go to a baby store and buy a baby tub. Douche. What the fuck am I gonna do with the baby tub when he grows out of it? Oh, have another baby to fill it with, of course....No thanks. Jerk. I wanted to get a tub that fits in the stand up shower we have downstairs so I don't hafta put his shitty paws in my bath tub upstairs where Fa's ass sits. Gross. So, we're off again to find a tub. And another thing: Bending over to pick up shit, and piss has now given my back a run for it's money and I am starting to live on Motrin again. It never ends.

Stressor Exhibit C:
Just when I think everything is a-ok. Hubby comes home in bad mood and I get so mad, I cry. So now we're not speaking again. Again. As per my therapist. I can't let this linger. I hafta confront. Yuck. I'm mad at you because you were in a bad mood, banging stuff around. But when a telemarketer called you were cordial and even smiled while talking to her. Hello? Is anybody in there??? I deserve that much.

Stressor Exhibit D:
It's so farking hot outside I could spit. I wanted to put Fa in the kiddie pool on the lawn yesterday and today, but it's scalding out there. We'd both melt away into the grass, never to be heard from again. What the? So now I'm stuck in the house with a bored 2.5 year old and a bored 2 month old dawg. I'm loosing it here...Anybody wanna come over to play? Then, if I'm on the phone, that's Fa's time to shine. "Mommy, get off the phone, watch me!", "Mommy I want a snack.", "Mommy, c'ome on in, come get me in my crib." Which leads me to...

Stressor Exhibit E:
All my friends are gone. Missing in action. I can't find one. I won't see one until tomorrow night for...woo hoo ceramics. One is here from Va so I'll see her a few times. One I see with her daughter on Wednesdays for music class...Who I happen to adore...A few others are gone by the wayside...Damn it...I can not keep a friend. I'll probably lose her too...With the mommy people I know, the only thing we have in common is kids. And I can't use that as enough ammo to start a relationship. I think I'm damaged. I either can't understand a person or don't like their kid. It leaves me lonely far too much to admit. I can't break the cycle either. Everyone who meets me usually thinks I'm fun and happy. But I don't usually get close enough for them to figure out the truth. No wonder BD comes home mad sometimes...When I was single I had the same friends as I have now. But we were available much more often. Now that I have a daughter and only one other friend has a daughter...it just all dissipates. BD says I don't try hard enough. It takes work to maintain a friendship. I don't put in the hours I guess. I am far to difficult. I get pissed at something (and don't say anything) and usually that's when the relationship sours. I don't let them know I'm pissed, so I don't call and they don't call and then years have passed and there goes that friend. Shit. I am damaged.

No wonder I'm alone most of the time. I say I don't care, but I do. If I didn't really care. I wouldn't have spent up all this space on Stressor Exhibit E!