My scapegoat

scape-goat (n) a: one that bears the blames for others b: one that is the object of irrational hostility

Can you guess who the scapegoat at our house is? When I am trapped in a house with no adult interaction?

Jeff.

I have nowhere else to place my frustration and depression and rage. I can't exactly blame the children for being sick and bored. I am not even going to the grocery, so I can't take it out on some unsuspecting check-out clerk. Jeff is it. My point of contact and release.

He handles it quite gracefully and understandingly. God bless him for that. Because sometimes you just need to release the tension.

As an example of how Jeff takes the blame, I present to you a scene from yesterday morning:

Andrew and Michael were both awake...Andrew crying and moaning because he felt sick and his chest hurt...Michael crying and moaning because I stopped him from throwing everything on the tables and counters down to the floor. Lily walks downstairs...because she learned how to open doors by herself yesterday. Excellent timing. Anyway, she walks downstairs and asks to have her diaper changed. She is reeking of urine and soaked up to her armpits. I see the mess that is her queen sized bed as I peel her pjs off and stick her into an impromptu bath, which Michael wants to get into and which prevents me from constantly comforting my whimpering sick child down on the couch. As the pj's come off, I notice that she is wearing a Target pull-up...from yesterday afternoon and not the most absorbent.

And I immediately say, "Your FATHER couldn't even remember to put you in a night-time diaper. Look at the mess I have to clean up because he can't tell the difference."

pause 2 seconds.

Wait. Jeff was at fencing last night, which means I am the one who didn't change her diaper before bed. This whole situation is my fault.

pause 2 seconds.

"Oh, sure, your FATHER was at fencing. After I am stuck at home all week and can't even get out to the friggin' grocery store, your FATHER gets to come home for a half-hour and then leave to go socialize and have fun at FENCING. When children are sick, his life doesn't change a bit...just gets to keep doing his activities and normal schedule. My life turns upside down, but not him...unaffected. No wonder I didn't change her diaper...trying to get all the medicine's worked out and humidifiers set up and sick children to bed by myself. This is still your FATHER's fault."

See? Jeff can't win. My scapegoat.