Tag Archives: mom

Cars And Other Oldest Child Problems

Hey. I don’t thing I mentioned this, but a few months ago, I got my driving permit. I’ve decided not to take Driver’s Ed (I’m not required to as I’m eighteen) because the cost of the actual classes would amount to more than the discount on insurance I would receive. Anyway, I’ve been driving my dad’s old Honda Fit around. When he bought his new truck, he didn’t trade in the Honda because I was going to start driving soon. Well, I was talking to my mom about something (I don’t remember what) when it was brought up that when I move out, I’m going to have to buy another car so my brother can drive the Fit.

First, let me just say that I kinda get where she’s coming from. They already have a car for my brother to learn to drive in. However, as my little sister is five years younger than my brother, it’s not like she’ll be driving anytime soon after he is. Meaning he most likely won’t have to buy another car when he moves out since he’ll probably get to just take the Fit with him. So basically, just because I’m the oldest child, I’m going to have to buy my own car.

It’s freaking ridiculous. If anything, it should be the other way around, since I’m the oldest. I’d also say that my parents should save it for my other two little siblings to drive, since that makes sense, even though they’re five and seven years younger than my brother, but my parents will probably be like, “well, Amanda’s still five years away, why shouldn’t Roman keep the car” because they pull stuff like that all the time. I kinda feel like a brat for complaining, so let me reiterate: I’m not complaining about me not being able to keep the Honda, I’m upset that my brother most likely will be allowed to keep it just because there is a larger age gap between him and the next kid to start driving.

This is just one more annoyance to add the my ongoing mental “Oldest Child Problems” list. I get really pissed off when my little siblings complain about not being the oldest child, because seriously, I get not being able to do everything your older sibling can do, because I was always wicked close to my cousin who’s older than me by a few years, but when you’re siblings, there’s really not a lot that the parents don’t allow the slightly younger sibling to do if the older sibling can. Pretty much anything I’m allowed to do, so can my brother, and it’s always been that was, unless it was like a legal issue or something, like driving before you’re sixteen. When I first started sitting in the front seat, I was forced to take turns with my brother, even though I’m two years older than him and he has always been underweight. When I was allowed to ride my bike alone, so could Roman. When I got the new Gameboy, so did he. We always had the same bedtime, except for now, because I’m eighteen and no longer in school while he has to be in bed by 10:30 on school nights. However, he rarely, if ever, follows this rule, and it’s really not enforced by my parents. When I still had a bedtime, if it were even five minute past and I wasn’t in bed yet, I would be in trouble.

I’m just baffled by the blatant differences in my parents’ treatment of my siblings versus me. I don’t understand how it can be so much different. I get that we’re all different and thus should be reprimanded differently and treated differently in different situations, but to an extent. My sister is eleven, and I know for a fact that when I was ten, I was folding laundry, because I accidentally said “crap” in front of my mom while switching it over once (and my siblings say crap and worse all the time and are mostly just left alone or given a minor slap on the wrist). My sister has no chores at all except for sometimes bringing the hamper down to the laundry room, sometimes cleaning the bunny’s cage, and very rarely scooping the cat litter (not even changing it, just scooping). AJ is nine and has no chores at all. He doesn’t even have to clear his own plate from the table (neither does Amanda).

I guess I just don’t understand why there’s such a huge difference. Am I the only one who feels this way? Let me know in the comments.

Okay, I’ve gotta go. It’s Camp NaNoWriMo, and I have to get writing. Bye!

-Sam

You’ve Gotta Be Freaking Kidding Me….

Hey. I know I’ve been absent for just short of six months. I’m going to try to fix that. Anyway, today my parents drove up to New Hampshire to buy a camper, leaving me and my sixteen-year-old brother home alone (my parents brought my two littlest siblings to my grandma’s for the day). My mom didn’t leave a list of chores, like she usually does, but just told me to get my folding done and clean one small area of the house up. I folded and cleaned up the gaming area, and then decided to do some extra, because I wanted to surprise her. I scooped the cat litter, vacuumed around the bunny’s cage, and cleaned her cage. I then swept the kitchen floor.

So, my parents come home around four, four-thirty. My mom and I are talking and she says something like, “I’m glad you both got your stuff done today.” I’m like, wait a second, Roman did nothing all day. She says, “He cleaned the cat litter.”

Excuse me??

I start to get mad at this point, because, as conniving as he is, I never expected him to stoop this low. My mom says, “Oh, you both must’ve scooped it,” which, even if this were the case, that right there should tell you all you need to know about my brother’s idea of “clean”. I’m like, no, I scooped it, he didn’t. She gets mad at me and says that I’m taking away from the extra that I did today by arguing. I say, “I’m not arguing anything, I’m simply stating facts!”

And that’s pretty much how the conversation went, ending with my mom and I going in separate directions for the next few minutes. But seriously, are you fucking kidding me? Who the hell does that? At least lie about something neither of us did! Don’t try to take credit for my fucking work, asshole!

Anyway, yeah, I’m kinda freaking pissed. But whatever.

Tonight, I’m sleeping in a tent in our backyard with my two youngest siblings, AJ and Amanda. They’re asleep right now. I’m going to go watch some Netflix now, then try to get some sleep. Bye!

-Sam

My Brilliant Idea

Hey. Today during my session with my therapist/counsellor/whatever-you-call-it, I had this amazing idea to help motivate me to do stuff: a “Fuck You” Board. Let me explain. The conversation started off with her (my therapist) talking about something she calls the Law of Attraction. Basically, the way she explained it, the more positive energy you put into something, the more likely it is to happen, and vice versa. I disagree, because, as I pointed out, I know some parents of kids with cancer never even imagined that their child wouldn’t beat that cancer, and yet their child died anyway. She said that wasn’t what she meant, and that she was talking about things we have control over, but I wasn’t really getting it.

I pointed out how I finished high school and got my diploma instead of going for my GED/HiSET (which is what it’s now called) out of spite for all of the school administration who believed I would never succeed, because that was the biggest way I could think of to tell them “FUCK YOU” without saying it straight out, because apparently that’s a big no-no, socially-speaking, at least according to my mom. My therapist said that even though it originated out of spite, it was actually positive energy because I was telling myself, “I’m going to do this.” I kinda saw where she was coming from with that. She went on to say that if that’s what works for me, then that’s okay. That’s when it hit me:

I should make a “Fuck You” Board and hang it on my closet door.

I said this, and after she got control of her laughter, she asked what that meant. I said I was going to take a blank poster board, draw a middle finger in the middle surrounded by the words “FUCK YOU”, and write the names of all the people who have ever doubted me or didn’t believe in me. That way, if I ever needed motivation, I could just look at that board and see all the people who I want to continue proving wrong.

I have to say, I’m wicked excited about this. 🙂

I can’t wait to get started! I’ve already started planning out the design in a notebook, and have written down quite a few names already. I’m also going to make sure to write small enough so that I have space to add to it when other people come along. My dad said I should put him and my mom on it, only half joking, but I explained that it’s not about people who piss me off, but people who don’t believe in me or don’t believe I can/will succeed, who I have to prove wrong. I know my parents are the top two people in existence who most believe in me (even if I may say/think otherwise when I’m pissed at them).

I’ll post a picture of my “Fuck You” Board when I’m done. Maybe I’ll block the names out. Maybe not. I don’t know. But I promise you, it’s gonna be awesome.

That’s it for now. I hope you all had a nice New Years. Bye!

-Sam

About That Dream I Had Last Night

Hey. I haven’t slept in about three days. Before that, I slept for one night, and then hadn’t for the three days prior to that night. Well, not really. I mean, I’ve been able to get half-asleep, to the point where I start to dream, but I’m not actually sleeping. It’s wicked annoying.

So last night, in my half-asleep state, I had a dream that has left me feeling peaceful all day. There’s really no other word to describe it. I was at a picnic table with my mom, who was sitting across from me. My three siblings were there, too, except they were just in the background. My two friends from the Lion’s Club, Dawn and Jeff, were sitting at the picnic table behind me. I was talking to my mom (I don’t remember about what), and I looked down at the table for a second, and when I looked up, my grandma and grandpa were standing there, to the right of my mom.

Mammy & Papa Cropped

Yes, I know I use this picture a lot, but I just love it.

Now, if you remember, I’ve posted before about how my mom’s parents are both dead. Mammy died in June of 2010, and Papa died in March of 2015. So, in this dream, my dead grandparents are suddenly standing right in front of me. They weren’t angels or anything, and don’t exactly have a heavenly glow around them, but I could tell they were appearing from heaven. I mean, aside from the fact that they’re both dead. They just gave off this aura. I don’t know how to explain it.

As soon as I saw them, I started crying, and when I say (type?) crying, I mean big, ugly sobs. I wasn’t sad, though. I mean, I wasn’t crying because all of a sudden I was filled with this intense happiness, either, like people sometimes talk about, but I wasn’t grieving. The best explanation I can think of is that, in my dream, I was just filled with so much love and awe. I don’t really know.

Anyway, my mom was really worried because I suddenly just started crying my eyes out for no apparent reason, and kept asking me what was wrong. I leaned over to her and whispered in her ear, “I see Mammy and Papa. They’re both standing right there, smiling.” A couple tears slid out of her eyes, and somehow I knew I was the only one who could see them. I leaned back and said to Dawn and Jeff, “I see Mammy and Papa.”. Still sobbing, I looked back at Mammy and Papa and smiled at them. I looked back to Dawn and Jeff and say that they had started to cry, too.

When I looked back, Mammy was gone, and Papa was alone, still smiling and waving at me. Then, he started to fade away, although “fade” isn’t really the right word, exactly. It was more like he was morphing into a bright, soothing, yellow light. After he was gone, I stared at where they were standing, still sobbing more intensely than I ever had before, but feeling extremely at peace, and that was the end of the dream.

It was so nice to see my grandparents again, even in a dream. I was telling my mom about it today, and she said that it seems like Mammy and Papa visited me in a dream, that it wasn’t just my brain coming up with a random scenario for a dream. I’d like to think she’s right.

I’d say I had a pretty amazing start of 2017, wouldn’t you?

-Sam

Damn, Where The Hell Did 2015 Go?

Hey everyone. Yep, I’m still alive. I know I said I would try and start posting again, and I really have been meaning to. However, I’ve been struggling over the past few months. I don’t really know how to describe it other than by saying I still haven’t recovered from my latest relapse of Lyme symptoms. For the second time, when they recurred, my cognitive function was really hit hard. I stumble over my words; I know exactly what I want to say, but there’s a disconnect somewhere when I’m trying to actually communicate whatever it is that I’m trying to convey. To put it bluntly, it fucking sucks, especially when the one thing I have always prided myself on over the course of my entire life is my unique advanced mental capabilities.

But whatever. I’ve been dwelling on it so much lately that I don’t really want to get into it right now. Anyways, let me just say this:

Holy shit.

It’s already Christmas Eve?! How the hell did that happen? I’m not used to time flying by. I’ve only had five years of practice, and in those five years so many things have changed so drastically, it would be hard for me to keep up with even without factoring in time starting to seem to fly. Ever since my grandma died in June of 2010, at the end of my 6th grade year, time has flown by. I remember thinking to myself on the morning of 7th grade field day, in June of 2011, “Wait, it’s almost summer already? Didn’t school, like, just start again??”

2015 has been a pretty crappy year in itself, too. Well, maybe not majorly crappy so much as insanely stressful and marked by a horrible, monumentally life-altering event: my grandpa died in March.

My grandpa, my Papa, my mom’s dad… is dead.

Mammy & Papa

My mom’s parents. My Mammy and Papa. ❤

Both of my mom’s parents are now dead. Both died within the past five years. Both were my nice grandparents. My dad’s parents… well, I’ve had troubles with them in the past, and I’ll just leave it at that for now. Don’t get me wrong – I love them more than words can say and wouldn’t hesitate to take a bullet for either of them – but, basically, both of my nice grandparents are dead.

I can’t believe it’s Christmas Eve right now. What the fuck happened? It seems like it was Christmas just a couple months ago! This is freaking insane! I’m not used to this. I hate time flying. Especially because now it just makes Mammy and Papa move farther and farther away quicker and quicker.

Ugh… I haven’t slept all night, and I haven’t been sleeping good at all… well, for pretty much my entire life, but especially these last few weeks. Really, ever since my grandpa died, I guess, but these past couple of weeks have been really bad. I’m going to go try and sleep again. Merry Christmas! I hope you all have a safe and happy Christmas or holiday or just a vacation, whatever this is for you. Bye!

-Sam

My Annoying, Manipulative, Conniving Little Sister

Hey. I’m back, hopefully for good this time. I’ve been neglecting this for well over a year now, and I’ve come to realize just how soothing it really is to post all of my shit here. God, where do I even start…?

Well, I suppose I’ll start with right now. My fucking sister, Amanda. She’s nine now. I’ve never been anywhere near as fucking pissed off at her as I am at this moment and have been recently. My mom brought my two brothers to football practice, where my dad already was, so me and Amanda were gonna stay home alone. She was to do her homework and I was to do mine. Okay, sure. Fair enough. Right?

Yeah, well, literally the second my mom closes the front door, Amanda starts being bitchy. Her new ploy to get me in trouble is to pretty much make up a whole fucking argument with me in her head, where she’s actually yelling at me in real life but I’m still SILENTLY SITTING IN THE FUCKING RECLINER WHILE TYPING MY HOMEWORK. Remember, my mom hasn’t even been out of the house for a fucking minute yet. So I turn to look at her and say simply, “Do your homework.” I’m actually quite proud of myself for keeping myself so calm.

Anyways, she does that fucking little pretend gasp thing that you really only see the shallow, bitchy girl in all those stupid Disney movies do. “That’s it, I’M telling MOM!” So my sister seriously fucking sprints to the front door, rips it open, and runs out after my mom (who isn’t even in her fucking car yet!!), screaming how I’m already yelling at her and telling her to shut up.

Excuse me?!

Naturally, my mom believes the little conniving nine-year-old over her eldest, seventeen-year-old daughter who was left in charge and hadn’t moved an inch since she walked out the door. I hear her yell my name – “Samantha Rose Murphy, get out here right now!” – and I go over to the door just in time to get yelled at about how I better not give Amanda any crap and to just leave her alone. After about five or ten “OKAY, Mom!”s, my sister and I are back inside again and my mom gets in her car and drives away.

I tell Amanda, “Okay, you heard Mom, start getting that homework done.” What does she say to me in return, you ask? Why, a fierce “shut up!” of course. Taking a deep breath to try and keep my cool (which is definitely starting to slip by now), I say to her something along the lines of, enough with the attitude, I’m the babysitter, I’m in charge, just do your homework so I can leave you alone. “Don’t make me call Mom!” she threatens, and I’m almost unable to stop myself from laughing, but luckily I hold it in, telling her to go ahead, try it, before turning back to my computer.

She proceeds to search the house for the next five minutes, looking for one of our house phones. When she finds it, she calls my mom’s cell. The first time, she leaves a message, and is (no joke) in the middle of telling the answering machine how I screamed at her to shut up and how I’m just being a big jerk to her. I call over very, very calmly and tell her to stop making up stories. She SCREAMS at me “SHUT UP!!!!” while still talking to the answering machine and starts screaming/crying. You know, that screeching kids do when they’re trying to fake sob? Yeah, that.

She then redials my mom’s number. This time, my mom picks up. Amanda goes straight into her act, telling my mom, “Mooooooommmmmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyy, Sammi’s being a big jerk! She’s yelling at me and calling me names and telling me to shut up!”

Which, might I remind you, is a total, 100% lie. Seriously. I am NOT making this up. Honestly? I wish I were….

My mom tells her to “put your sister on the phone right now!” Already having another handheld right next to me, I press talk and tell Amanda to hang up since I’m on with the other phone. Naturally, she yells “NO!” and of course my mom doesn’t care. She goes right into shouting at me to take my stuff and get into my room and don’t interact with Amanda and just leave her alone. I will admit that I reached my limit during this “conversation” (more like sentencing!) and snapped. I yelled at my mom over the phone, “She’s lying! Really, Mom, I’ve literally done nothing except tell her to do her homework and not be a little brat to me!”

My mom ends up screaming back at me, “I DON’T CARE, JUST GET INTO YOUR ROOM, AND IF I GET ANOTHER CALL I’M COMING BACK TO GET HER AND THERE WILL BE HELL TO PAY!!!” Of course, we exchange more than just that summarization, but you get the point. I hang up and proceed to my room where I very gently close the door so I don’t accidentally slam it in my anger.

Anyways, about ten, fifteen minutes later, my mom bangs on my door. I’m super confused and ask her “why are you here, you said you weren’t gonna get her unless there was another problem?” to which she responds “maybe just think about it!” Very meanly, might I add. She then proceeds to yell in my face (literally – her toes were touching mine) to make sure I shower, do the dishes, and send my homework to her (because God forbid I actually send it to just my teacher, right? Nooooooo, cuz I would totally be lying about that unless she fucking sees it which is stupid because she’s so fucking technologically inept I get in trouble because she doesn’t know how to fucking open and view my work anyways!!). She then wordlessly turns and slams the front door on her way out, refusing to acknowledge me asking “what the hell just happened?!?!” Of course, I don’t ask like that since I don’t swear at all in front of her, but still.

And so is the story of my life. I wish I could say this is a rare, even isolated occurrence, but, alas, it is not. Not even close. I have to deal with this shit every single day! Sometimes I’m actually stumped how I haven’t literally exploded and how my guts don’t cover the walls of my house yet.

I’ll try to start doing the whole blog thing regularly again. Like, I said, I miss you guys. Later.

-Sam

P.S. Oh yeah, and on top of everything else, I’ve been sick since early Friday morning. Yeah, like I even have the fucking energy to be a fucking asshole to you, Amanda….

Camp NaNoWriMo Starts Today

Hey. The wait is over. Camp NaNoWriMo officially started eleven hours and forty two minutes ago as of now, and I’ve barely started my outline. I guess I’m going to have to work on it a lot once I finish the daily word count. This sucks.

I’m so bad at not procrastinating. My room is supposed to be clean by Thursday, and while I was given wrong information about that at first (when asked, my mom said it doesn’t have to be fully clean, just big progress, but now she went back on that ), I still haven’t worked on it as much as I should have.

In other news, it’s exactly an hour after I started this post. I just went to look for Burban and I can’t find her anywhere. I can’t even hear her meow. It’s kinda worrying me, so I’m going to go try and find her. Bye!

-Sam

The Worst Part About Being Grounded Is Not Being Able To Watch Grey’s Anatomy

Hey. Well, I’m really sad. I know, I know, enough about Grey’s Anatomy, but I love it so much, and it’s a huge part of my life, so that’s why I write about it a lot. Anyways, in case you didn’t know, it was on last night, because it was Thursday yesterday. I was in bed, trying (unsuccessfully) to sleep (I sleep less when I’m sick, unlike everyone else in the world), and all of a sudden I hear Meredith Grey’s voice, talking like she does in the beginning of every Grey’s Anatomy episode. I groan, because really, Mom? You just had to torture me like that, didn’t you? I didn’t want to listen, for two reasons. One, I wasn’t allowed to watch the last episode, because I was grounded, so I was an episode behind. And two, I didn’t want to listen and then watch it later, because that isn’t as entertaining (even though it’s still enjoyable). So, I tried (also unsuccessfully) to block out the sound for an hour by putting my pillow and blankets over my head to block out the sound (which is really hard to do if you still want to be able to breathe). I eventually resorted to saying “la la la la la la la” for forty five minutes. Yeah, it wasn’t fun. But it was better than hearing spoilers, seeing as I haven’t watched the last episode yet. Anyways, I have to go do some homework. Bye!

-Sam