Karma bites me in the arse...

Annie said yesterday in her comment that she was inspired by my biiatching to write about differences in families.

I am warning you now Annie...Be afraid...Be very afraid...

A lot of times when I post things they were written over the course of a week or so, and when I get time I throw them online. I had written the DNA post awhile ago, and I debated over whether I should post it. Well I did yesterday, and now karma has come back to bite me in the ass...

I mean, it is pretty harsh. If anyone read it that knows me wouldn't be all that shocked by it, including my sis-in-law. Believe me, we've had plenty of discussions on that area. Sometimes she'll start lamenting that she has no control over her own children, but she doesn't do anything to remedy the situation. Don't worry, she's called me an over-bearing bitch many times. It's just the kind of relationship we have.

I think I am so programmed to be "PC" from work that I second guessed putting it up for the world to see. I have a post about that PC world coming soon, it's written and just needs uploaded. This blog kind of serves as that outlet for all that is un-pc, so I decided what the hell? I'd throw it up.

To make a long story longer, I was driving home from work last night happy as hell. I actually had the day off today!! I had managed to avoid anyone who would want me to work, mission impossible style. I debated over what I would do with a night when I didn't have to wake up early in the morning, and a certain hot young man I've been seeing came to mind.

Before I could do any dialing, my brother called my cell. There was a function they needed to attend for his business, and her sister had backed out of babysitting. You have to realize that when they call me to babysit, it is the absolute last resort. If they could get someone from prison on work-release to babysit they'd probably try that first...lol Ok, that might be stretching it a bit much, but you get the idea.

All the visions of what I would do with a certain hot young man until the wee hours of the morning came to a crashing halt. Dammit, dammit, dammit...I begrudingly say ok, because I would do anything for my brother.

So I go home, pick up a bunch of art supplies to keep the devil's spawn entertained, and head over to my brother's house. The 4th grader starts crying and soon as I enter the front door. "Aunt Kelly is meeeeeeeean," she wails. It takes every ounce of reserve to not choke the child.

My sister-in-law does her little aww it's going to be ok voice and tells her not to talk to me like that. Real effective, let me tell ya. My brother walks in the room, and hearing what my sister-in-law just said demands to know what the devil's spawn said. "Nothing," replies my sis-in-law. Now I'm fighting the urge to choke her.

You have to understand here, that I am like Aunt of the year. Not to blow my own bugle or anything, but I excel as an Aunt. My sister's kids practically live with me (one actually does), and I'm very involved in their lives. They know how to act, though.

So they leave. I pull out the art supplies and we begin making all kinds of drawings and paintings. The first 2 hours go by with barely a glinch.

We put everything away and admire our work. The oldest K is really talented. She is going into 6th grade this year, and I am actually really impressed with her work.

Now comes the worst part of babysitting them. Snack time. My sis-in-law had bought a carton of vanilla ice cream. I go and get two bowls, and give them a couple of scoops. They immediately begin to whine that they want DOUBLE that. Uh huh, no way.

The oldest seems to catch on a bit faster then the younger one, knowing that certain punishment will follow if she doesn't shut her trap. The younger one continues to whine, and actually starts to cry (cry! over a bowl of ice cream!)

I tell her if she continues to cry, I'll give her something to cry about. I hate it when I sound like my parents...Anyway, I tell her that if she doesn't stop immediately, I'll take away what she DOES have. This seems to work. *phew*

Now they want to watch TV. These children have to be constantly entertained. So we go see what's on. Ahh, the youngest has the remote control, and "I know what you did last summer" is on. She flips the channel.

I tell her she's not allowed to watch R rated movies. She informs me that she is when her Father isn't home. Really? I inform her that I'm representing her Father, and she is not watching that. She has a death grip on the remote control, and I begin counting to 100 in my head so that I don't wind up in jail.

I finally lose it and yell at her to give me the damn remote. She proceeds to throw it at the TV and it busts into a million peices. Breathe, just breathe...

I send her to her room. For a minute there, she looks like she's not going to go. God, please let her go...She starts up the stairs, gets about half way up, turns around and asks, "Can I come out now?"

"You didn't even make it up there yet!" My voice booms across the room. The oldest just shakes her head and says, "She ought to know she can't get away with that stuff with you here." Indeed.

So she is up there screaming and carrying on and yelling that she wants out. After about 10 minutes it gets quiet. This worries me, since these children never let up until they get their way. Oh, I found out why she was quiet alright. She had left her room and went to my bro's and was watching that damn movie.

I led her by the arm to the guest bedroom downstairs. She was really wailing then. It was the closest I have ever come to hitting a child. I managed to keep my cool, as she screamed and cried for an hour straight. She finally gave up.

My bro and sis-in-law came home a couple of hours later, and the damianette came running out of the spare bedroom bawling her eyes out. My brother asked me what happened. As I was explaining what happened the monster was telling my sis-in-law that I hurt her arm, and that I barely gave her more then a spoonful of ice cream.

"I'll get you some ice cream, baby," she said and proceeded to get the little brat a huge bowl of ice cream. This would explain their weight problems. My brother was livid. "Did you hear what she did?" he yelled at my sis-in-law. "She's upset, yelling is not going to help this matter," she said as she glared at me.

I knew a big one was on the way, so I grabbed my shit and bolted. My brother ran out to the car and appologized. What could I say? He looked so helpless standing there. I know this stuff has got to just kill him, because he was not raised like this at all. He tries, but all he is made out to be in the bad guy. It also doesn't work when children are only disciplined half of the time, and they can go running to "mommy" and get out of it.

My sis-in-law did call and appologize to me today. She just can't stand seeing the children upset. Whatever. I explained to her that she's only hurting them. She half heartedly agrees, and hangs up. How these children will ever function in society is beyond me. At least the oldest seems to know boundaries.

I just hope my brother realizes after this not to ask me to babysit. It is a sad situation, but I am just plain tired of all of this.


Enough of that. I'm going to concentrate on what I can do to a certain hot young man this afternoon....