White noise

A human being's made of more than air

With all that bulk, you're bound to see him there

Unless that human bein' next to you

Is unimpressive, undistinguished

You know who...

Cellophane

Mister Cellophane

Shoulda been my name

Mister Cellophane

'Cause you can look right through me

Walk right by me

And never know I'm there...

"Mr. Cellophane" Chicago

I know I'm not the only mom in history that feels like they're constantly ignored. It doesn't seem to matter what I say, or how loud I say it. I've gotten used to the fact that, in order to get any kind of response, be it positive or negative, it has to be screamed. I hate this. I don't like yelling. I'm not the kind of person who enjoys hollering at the top of my voice.

Unless, of course, it's in the throes of passion, but I digress.

Today has been hell when it comes to children listening to me. The 5 year old and 3 year old both decided that shitting in their pants (or on the floor) was preferable to the toilet. They decided this multiple times. I know I've said this before, but I'm tired of wiping other people's asses. Even if they're the cute little butts that belong to my precious children.

After telling them, numerous times, that we don't poop or pee in our pants, that I would prefer, as would most of polite society, that they do that sort of thing in those wonderful new-fangled contraptions called toilets, it seems they took it upon themselves to ignore me completely, as they continued to force me to clean poop off my carpet.

I'm beginning to see a pattern here.

It seems everything I say, to pretty much anyone in the family, goes in one ear and out the other. You know how static, either on the radio or TV, can be gawd-awful to try & listen to when you first hear it, and how you will do anything to just get it to stop? But, have you ever forced yourself to listen to it? After awhile, it just becomes white noise in the background. You find you can ignore it for the most part. You still hear it, obviously, but it doesn't seem as urgent as when you first heard it.

That is how I think my children must regard the sound of my voice.

This is why I hate yelling. It doesn't get me very far, and all it accomplishes is me feeling like a crappy mother, and having my children crying in a corner because I've completely lost it.

Not to mention it ends up with me sitting at the computer, eating frozen semi-sweet chocolate chips out of the bag, and writing a blog entry no one will probably ever see.

I need a life.