The Portal To Venting

Searching For A Portal… The Vortex Of Venting
As I wrote this and I found the need to jump up and use the restroom. Where I encountered a line. So I paced back and forth among the jumping rug rats Pleaded for patience not so much for my mind but for that bladder that screamed gotta go gotta go gotta go right now. Besides the rocking back and forth amidst the children ahead and behind me I also had other things on my mind. It helped keep my mind off the fact that I had, to wait in a line to use the potty.

I felt the burning of my tongue no! not from swearing. I had arisen early to avoid the rush hour, which exceeds all day My space sometimes completely invaded. I made a pot of coffee and took a big sip that not only burned my mouth it spilled over to stain my shirt, another stain another day.

As I paced in wait for a much needed bathroom break I thought to myself should I put sugar on my tongue? I heard from somewhere, probably grandma that it works to sooth the burnt tongue. Then my mind began to wonder to all those old remedies. Butter for a burn I think not! I even heard toothpaste was a great burn soother yeah if you have lost your mind! I think toothpaste should be used for teeth cleaning. Well it can clean silver Being a little Martha here. Yet I need to start on my topic of venting so toothpaste is a good start. Those big globs spit into the sink left behind. I often wonder if any of that paste gets made into the mouths and the much needed tooth brushing. It just sits in there in the sink growing harder by the minute.

Then there’s the tube of paste twisted into every shape possible. Did a clown come in to the bathroom while I was unaware, host a party of some kind? Taking the tube in place of balloons and making funny animal shapes. Okay no I doubt it but you never know. I know when I get in the bathroom if ever, I’ll discover a pile of laundry although I just did several loads yesterday. So besides the blobs awaiting me in the sink there will be the never-ending laundry getting ready to over flow onto the floor. Another load another day. Hey what about the lost socks yes there is a twilight zone where the lost socks leave this place to go to another. What it would it look like over yonder in the land of lost socks? Lost unpaired hanging in mid air, hoping some day to be reunited with their significant other…

I once tried to roll my towels into a fancy display, doing the Martha Stewart thing again. It’s not working, it lasted all about a day. I now just fold my towels fancy free and put, heck throw them in the closet. Then there is the tub filled with toys and the ever slightly beginnings of a ring. I’ll need to tend to that. Showering I often find myself playing with the armless Barbie’s so sad they are I feel a slight connection with them. Yes at times I feel alone but with arms. I’m just talking bathroom here we have not moved on yet. I look down at one of the chitins who smiles a beaming smile up at me. Brings me back into my earthly realm. As she departs the rest room I can’t help but smile back look Nana I used the big potty. She still has her training pants down around her ankles waddles like a duck back and forth. I give her an A+ for great effort and a good laugh. I bend down to eye level pull her pants up high five-baby girl good job.

Okay back to venting we all need to do this come on sista’s are you with me. I am writing this in part just for you. Those fellow super hero’s the moms of many the moms of young. The moms and grandmas too so deserving of such a grand title never over blown.
Lets avoid the kitchen I mopped earlier and see a few new spills. I don’t have my hard hat handy I lent it to the youngest baby. She’s trying to fly… from the couch to the floor. Nana coming through lets get this place in order. I clap my hands chop, chop I say. My feedback on that is giggles and running for the door. I again bend down to eye level pull back up the pants of the little ducky and gently say time for clean up. Give her a kiss and she rushes in the other direction.

I sneak to my bedroom put my face in my pillow and scream a few times. I then return a smile displayed from ear to ear. Okay a little sharper lets get this place cleaned up toys in the basket. I have baskets for just about everything another attempt to be Martha. Toys put away, my youngest grandson shows me his latest art work. Yes your drawing is very good, such a clever boy. He smiles ever so proudly displaying his pearly whites (yeah I know your one of the blob makers) I can see perfectly, your picture is a cow. Oh no? It’s me? Oh well you are just so sweet my little sugar pie.

By now you probably wondering how I manage to write all this as well as manage the household. It’s all in my mind the writing that is, now it’s back to the bedroom to stuff my face in the pillow am I a cow?

Back in the living room I arrange the blankets neatly upon the couches. The older kids have been bugging me for years to take them off. No way Jose I say. This frequent request will never come to be. I smile sly as I note a dribble of soft drink spill onto the sofa. That would be why, I point to the little left mess. Another mess another day

Eating in the living room well we might as well hit on this topic as well. We don’t dine, eat our full meals in this area. Yet we snack only certain snacks. That’s why I have blankets as couch covers a dandy idea I got from grandma. I even have designer blankets, ones with pretty spring flowers for that special event. See a tad of Martha is in me. . On the matter of dining with such a large family dinners are split up often into different time periods. Little ones eat first and a lot. I at times feel as if I am running a diner and it must be said, hold on I have to go in the bedroom put my face in the pillow and scream. Okay this isn’t a restaurant. Yet I hear I don’t like that! Oh I don’t wanna eat that it’s nasty! Oh my, I need my pillow. So on the stove, pots of this and that. Yet I have to put my foot down. There’s a sit down dinner three to four times a week. Everyone eats the same meal and sits at the table. My beloved my lady the dog is also there. Sitting quiet under my chair for a treat every now and then. Yeah I’m bad but she deserves it she never talks back. When she’s not under my seat she’s under one of the kids. That’s on a night I’m serving something they may not like. Another dinner, another day.

While I’m venting I forgot something about the bathroom. The toilet paper put it back on the ringy thingy. I mean come on it takes all of two seconds to put it there. It does not belong anywhere else not on the floor not on the magazine rack. Okay I’m pretty sure I am done with the potty room.

So where are we? Well I have managed to get this written in between the spills and chills, those that creep up my back when I hear a kids scream at the top of their lungs. To find it was all over a rock they found. Hey to kids it’s a treasure. I suppose I’ll have to chuck that rock when no ones looking I don’t want someone losing an eye. I have written in between replacing rolls of toilet paper, standing in lines, cooking Mac and cheese and the kid’s constant demands. My youngest that’s now on summer vacation and is so bored, to tears he is! Count to a hundred, five times I tell him. Well you’ll have something to do! Yeah right mom. In all the chaos and the fights there is laughter and love, but I’m not going to get cheesy with this. It’s all about venting.

Don’t slam that door, no you can’t jump off the roof into the pool. No one can agree on an afternoon movie, well your not watching one any way its Ellen time. Yes I never miss a show it’s my happy hour without the drinks. I could use a little gin in my juice, no I won’t go there. Get out side, breath some fresh air I suggest loudly. Yes I know its ninety-eight degrees out there you’ll survive. I once crossed the Sahara desert you know on the back of a camel. Okay it was some small stretch of desert and I was in a jeep. Shush Ellen’s on she’s dancing I get up and dance too. Ma what’s for dinner? Umm I’m not sure, call Betty Crocker. After Ellen I’ll put on my hard hat I got back from the baby she’s done with her flying lessons. I’ll head out side to play a little ball with the boy. His pitches miss the bat I think he may be aiming for my head. Or I’m just not hitting good these days.

Well there has to be an end to every story and as in a fable some sort of meaning is a plus. Don’t want you to think I am just a ranting lunatic. I guess what I am going for here is patience. A much needed emotion. Some would say my life is insane I am a tad Loony. Yes I’m crazy for my kids all of them, grand babies too. They bring about a pure joy to my weary tired heart. After a busy day of living in a household of chaos I know I have patience. Even if I scream into a pillow its much more refined than screaming out loud or directly at a child. Count to ten; take a walk, Hey wait in a line for the bathroom. You can think of all sorts of things trying to keep your mind off your bladder. Gotta go gotta go gotta go right now!
Just another day in the life of a super mom until next time…
Kelly Tagaban