weeping

7-13-11




I managed to clean the boys’ room yesterday, including and most importantly, I changed their bedding. It was a huge task, but it took much less time than I had expected. I decided to take some time to myself and ended up watching a movie.



I had read the book The Time Traveler’s Wife. I fell deeply in love with it and found it to be an amazing story. When they announced that they would be making a film adaptation, I of course was skeptical, especially when they cast Rachel McAdams. Man, that chick is creepy. I was still intrigued, though, since I couldn’t see how they could possibly make this story into a film.



I was pleasantly surprised, and even impressed. I of course was first frustrated at the way it started, but I forced myself to stop comparing it to the book. Their interpretation was quite good. It took the main themes and emotion and made it tangible. Even Ms. McAdams wasn’t as offense as I expected. Eric Bana was perfect, though.



Being that I let myself get sucked in, I was thankful that I had opted to watch this in my free time as opposed to subjecting Ken to the viewing. Plus, he would not have been watching the movie. He would have been laughing at the massive sobs coming from his wife. Poor Ittles was quite distraught and jumped up on my lap trying to cheer me. She was very sweet, sitting with me for the bulk of the movie, occasionally nudging my cheek.



It was a nice distraction from the cranky that was intensified by NB’s stalking. This little shit was once again, lurking by my house when I arrived home from work. He asked again when they would be home. I explained, again, that they would not be home till close to 5. He questioned my whereabouts extensively and then proceeded to ask if he could play in our backyard until they arrived home. Not a chance in hell, kid.



At 5:00 on the button, my doorbell sounded and there he was, interrogating me as to why the boys were not back yet. I explained to him that it didn’t work that way. I told him that they would not be home at 5 on the button. Some days it might be before 5. Some days it might be after. He said he would wait on our porch for them. I wanted to yell “Get off my lawn!” I instead went back to cleaning the kitchen.



Ken and the boys arrived around 10 after. Ken had to run to the store for me, so he told the kids that they could play for about 20 minutes. They came through the house and I reminded the boys that as soon as their dad got home, play time was over. This little fuck then says to me in the most disrespectful tone, “Well, Ken said we had 20 minutes.” I responded in the most restrained voice ever, “Yes, I know. He will be about 20 minutes. I am just reminding you.”



I hate this boy.



If I didn’t have mount laundry to contend with this afternoon, I would not go home.



I do wonder what my afternoon has in store for me. I am sure there are projects such as scanning photos, but currently that cannot be done until I remove some more from my laptop.



I am seriously considering using a service to scan all my pictures.



It has occurred to me that I also need to start really planning Dax’s birthday party so I can send out invites.



I suppose I should get to work.