Friday, December 4, 2015

I Need a Nap, a Xanax and a Margarita

Tiny Terrorist will be 3 on Sunday.
Boy Terrorist is 4 and Big Red will be 13 in just over a month.

Yes...that's her everyday sass
My babies are growing up.

I don't know whether to cry, throw a party or move out of the house.

I knew my experiences with the terrorists would be somewhat different because of their gender (one boy, one girl), but it didn't even occur to me the giant sea of difference I would experience between them and big red.

I feel like I'm living in the mind of bi-polar person.....on drugs 

This morning I got the full spectrum from cleaning up pee to making make-up pit stops.
Here's the summary of my morning (6:00AM - 8:00AM)

  • Tiny terrorist peed her pants - while standing next to the toilet....because she wanted me to lift her on to it and hold her toilet paper for her until she was ready to wipe. (she's fully capable of getting up there on her own - she does it 90% of the time.  She also has no problem pulling, holding and stuffing an entire roll of TP in the toilet on any other day) 

  • I had to explain for the 5,678th time to Boy Terrorist that no, he could not bring his nerf shot gun to school, then I had to explain that he also couldn't bring his nerf, not even if you hide it in your underpants.
  • Find shoes for both terrorists after an exhaustive 42 second search party was completed by the terrorists (the shoes were in the shoe box....where they are every morning for the last 2 years) 
  • Carry both terrorists to the car because they cannot walk they are just too exhausted and "If you love us you'll carry us" (courtesy of Boy terrorist)
  • Return to house after pulling out of driveway so big red cold retrieve her headband.....because no ponytail is complete without a big ass band of elastic strapped to your forehead.  (The door was locked...which just ruined it all...making a trip back to the car for keys and then back to the house was out of the question - commence pouting)
  • Big red notices that my make up isn't in the car and she has no make-up. (and OHMYGAWD...she has to have mascara and eyeliner because her "eyes are different sized" shit that's what she said)  So googly-eyes announces that this is "THE WORST MORNING EVER" 
  • I concede to stop by her fathers house so she can get make up to un-googly-eye herself.  We get make up and googly announces that all she has is bronzer and her face will be all brown and uneven and this really is "THE WORST MORNING EVER"   (Um, why does she even have bronzer...I don't even know what to do with bronzer)  Tears flow....
  • We show up at daycare and Tiny Terrorist informs me she is not going today....she wants to go to gymnastics.  Commence flopping out of car seat, flinging self on ground and generally being an asshole.  I explain to her that gymnastics is after daycare when the sun is getting ready to go to sleep.  Mercifully, she enters daycare with Boy terrorist with no other argument.
No actual "Googly-Eyes" - Shes absolutely beautiful
  • Back to googly eyes....shes in full blown teenager meltdown mode slamming my visor mirror, crying and mumbling about uneven eyes, splotchy skin and worst mornings ever.  I gave up...I drove across town to my office so she could use my make up then drove back across town to bring the now beautified un-googley-eyed big red to school. (I fought the urge to tell her her eyes still looked the same as they did at 6AM, just with more junk on them...)  
Crisis averted, all kids are safely in the care of somebody-fucking-else for the day.  I feel like I need a nap, a Xanax and a margarita. I really didn't think this whole future thing through.....

Monday, November 30, 2015

She Makes Naomi Campbell Look like Laura Ingalls

I recently read two posts over on one was called "Never Trust a Trick Baby" and the other one was called "I Gave Birth To a Feral Child".

They not only had me laughing out loud but I now understand why I'm completely insane.
I've scored on both accounts and I'm just waiting for "My Little Princes makes Naomi Campbell look like Laura Ingalls"

See, Big Red was my trick baby.  She came home and promptly slept through the night - And by all night I mean 12 hours.  The kid slept from 8PM to 8AM at 4 WEEKS OLD!  As an infant she would rather sit in her bouncy seat and watch the activity instead of being held.  She would literally cry if you held her too much.  She started putting herself to bed at 8PM when she was just 2 years old and still cant stay up much later than 10PM at almost 13 years old.  She ate anything I fed her and it only took a look to stop bad behavior or a melt down.   She was the perfect baby by all standards.  She made me look good.

Unlike most 1st time parents I knew the trap...make me think I had this parenting thing under control and promptly give birth to the spawn of satan.  I didn't fall for her took me 8 years to be coerced into the spawn of satan  my feral child.

I say coerced because in those 8 years I met and married D who didn't have his own children.  He was upfront about wanting at least one of his own and I agreed to just one more.  Somewhere along the line I actually thought I had this shit show of parenting under control.

Then I had the feral child.  (If you've read the story above you know what I mean.)  Boy terrorist isn't freal in the sense that he barks or walks on all fours, but to paraphrase the article he's more  related to Mowgli from the jungle book.  He's wild, he goes one thousand miles a minute.  Before he could crawl he was climbing the stairs.  Before he could walk he was climbing on the counters.  He's talked non stop since he exited the womb. Boy Terrorist is the by far the wildest of the bunch, but he is also most sensitive child.  A mean look will reduce him to tears just as quickly as an exciting tv commercial will send him into hysterics.  He will do anything for and to protect his sisters.
It's like living with a unmediated bi-polar midget on a sugar high and some days it is pure hell.  Other days he makes my heart melt (until he karate chops the dog and sprays shaving cream all over the room...then we're back to hell.)

Then came the tiny surprise.  She has held true to both of her nick names (The surprise & Tiny Terrorist).
She is tiny, not just because she is the baby, but she's also small for her size. That's where tiny ends though...there is absolutely nothing tiny about her personality. She runs the show.  We're all still under her spell (for the most part) 3 years later and I'm pretty sure this is the way it's gonna go for the next 18 at least.

Her daddy thinks she can do no wrong, I see so much of myself in her I just have to laugh, her brother would literal lay down his life for her and her sister thinks shes a live talking baby doll.  She does absolutely what she wants to and takes no prisoners while doing it.  She has no fear of telling us straight up "Nope, not doing that", "Cause I don't want to" and "Leave me LONE!"
She steals toys and candy from Boy Terrorist CONSTANTLY and he still can't tell her no when she asks him sweetly for just one bite of his candy only to stuff the whole thing in her mouth while smiling at him.
Then there are her epic meltdowns and tantrums.  She literally makes Naomi Campbell look like Laura Ingalls from little house on the prarie.  She will throw what ever is in reach and fling herself on the floor screaming.  With all of our kids we let them throw their tantrum ,but put them in their room to do it.  They usually last 5-20 minutes; maybe 30 on  good day.  Not tiny terrorist - she's been timed at over an hour and a half.

I tell you all of this because I'm pretty convinced that I'm certifiably crazy, but I also know at least two other moms are as well.  They felt so bat-shit crazy that theyalso wrote stories.

And I've got them all beat....I've got the fucking trifecta of crazy.  Complete with Naomi Campbell peeing her pants in the corner cause she doesn't like the big potty only the tiny green one.
I already feel better about the obscenities I screamed over thanksgiving break.

Sunday, November 15, 2015

Apologies and Butt-Hanging Egg Holders

First off....sorry for the absence. I'm going to try to get back on these blog posts again.
My kids are still doing maddening and hilarious shit, but life has been kicking my ass.

Not my personal commitments,but preschool, gymnastics, wrestling, showing up at middle school...every day shit that my little terrorists require of me.

Anyway, I'm gonna make it a point to try and do these more often.

I'll start with the boy terrorists most recent request - for what I can only assume is a toy.
You see he has this really fucking irritating habit of asking for every.single.toy he's sees on every.single.commercial that airs from 8am to 9pm. Literally every toy....and we must stop all household activities to look at the TV, see what he wants and tell him no.  (I don't think he understands patterns yet...or he's trying to wear me down)

Tonight a commercial for a pink ice cream maker was the coveted item that halted dinner.

This conversation led to the other "Toy" that he wants.

He spoke clearly, was VERY descriptive and even acted out the way the toy works.
I still have no fucking clue what this child wants and I'm even more concerned as to what the hell kind of TV he was watching with granny!?!?

The "toy" apparently has a beak and a string that attaches to your ass which holds a real egg and you bounce....what in the actual fuck?

Anyone care to throw me a bone here? Does my kid want a game or a sex toy????

Check out the BT explaining this....I can't even make this shit up!!

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

His Truck Smells Like WHAT???

My husband hangs those horrible smelly trees in his truck.
You know, those air fresheners shaped like Christmas trees that smelly truckers adorn their cabs with. (No offense to all of my non-smelly trucker friends and family)

These little gems....clearly created by Satan
Well the hubs has a favorite tree.  It's called "black ice" and it's the only Satan tree he'll buy.  He thinks they smell good....

I disagree.  I also never pass up an opportunity to give him shit. So, anytime I get into the truck I say "Mmmmmm! It smells like Black Ice in here, YUMMY!"

He calls me an asshole.
He laughs.
I laugh.
Fun times had by all.

Until boy terrorist decided to join in on our fun...and ruin it.
Our little comedian

Apparently he's been hearing our "Black Ice" exchange and thought he'd join in.

About a week ago we all pile in to the truck to go who knows where and (I shit you not) this is what comes out of my son's mouth:

"Mmmmm Daddy! It smells like black men in here!" (And he laughed and laughed and laughed)

WHAT??? Did you just say daddy's truck smells like BLACK MEN??
It took us a bit before we realized what the hell he was talking about.

We said black ice and he heard black guys...

again...this is why we don't do "public"

Thursday, June 25, 2015

I Still Don't Know Who Wiped His Butt....

For at least 2 years now I've been bitching about Boy Terrorist's sleeping in he doesn't have any.
I think I even called him a crack head...

I can't even pinpoint the night that it all changed...

A few evenings ago I told the boy it was bedtime.  He got up, grabbed my hand and walked up to his bedroom with me.   He got in bed and asked for a kiss and that was it.
No flailing on the ground, no sobs, no protests, no begging for 10 more minutes....

When I got back downstairs and recovered from my shock I realized that bedtime has been easy with him for quite some time now.

Holy shit....he's growing up.  I began to curse time and wrack my brain for all the other things he wasn't doing anymore.
Did he still ask for hugs, did he still need daddy to read him a story, when was the last time he asked me to wipe his butt.....shit! literally shit!

I didn't have time to evaluate any further because of the howling coming from upstairs.
That howling was high pitched and coming from the room next to the golden boy.  As I got closer I could make out the sentence.  "MOOOOOOM!  I need a drink of water!"  over and over and over...and louder each time.

I got princess terrorist her drink of water and realized that we didn't even have to get the golden boy water anymore - he just tells us what he's doing and gets his own water and goes back to bed.

I began to curse time again....again I was interrupted by princess terrorist - she needed a story, then a kiss, then a hug.....then she was crying but didn't know why.

Next she needed a band aid for her shoulder....I don't know why.  I didn't even ask her.  It was almost midnight and I would have covered her pretty little body with band aids if it meant I could get some fucking sleep.

About a week into this ritual I realized that the tides have shifted.
My boy is growing up.

Whats more depressing than my boy growing up is the fact that his sister is following in his footsteps and she's worse than he EVER was!!!

I didn't have much time to dwell on this either because as soon as I got into his new chapter the bastards turned the table on us once again...

For the last week both kids have gone to bed quietly and with little resistance.  I should have known they were up to something....

 About 25 minutes after we put them to bed (just long enough for us to get comfortable in our own bed)  we hear a blood curdling scream come from the boys room.
Only one problem - it's his sister's voice making the scream...
We run in to the boys room and there he is SOUND ASLEEP.  Just behind him is his sister.  Screaming because she wants down.  (If you don't remember Jax has a fancy loft firehouse bed that's accessed through a cutout ladder)
This is in my bed and as you can see it's daylight so of course they're both sound asleep....

We're still not sure how he gets her up there, but we're going on night 3 of this shit and it's like fucking groundhog day.

I don't know whether I should be sad that he's growing up, happy that he loves his sister or just pray for the madness to stop.

I am in the market for a ladder though.  Maybe if she can get herself down after the boy nods off we can all get some sleep....

Thursday, June 18, 2015

Hello My Name is Ashley and My Kids Make Me Seem Like an Alcoholic

To strangers...

Bringing the kids to the liquor store has always made me feel I was bringing them to a crack house.  (I know, I look like I have my shit together, but this is the weirdo shit that runs through my brain: liquor store +toddler= crack house)

I feel like everyone's looking at me and thinking "Look at that lady, she can't even take her kids home before getting that barrel of booze"...Well, that and I generally don't bring the terrorists anywhere in public - definitely not a store full of breakable glass bottles.  (I call them terrorists for a reason)

Daddy's a little more sane than mommy and a lot more adventurous.  He takes the terrorists EVERYWHERE!

This is typically a good thing.  They get fresh air, they see the sky....mommy stays home and has peace and quiet.

Well as it turns out Daddy's been taking them to the liquor store.  Now I know it's not an actual crack house and on the surface you're thinking "SO WHAT"
Here's the deal...the liquor stores give out suckers (lolly pops, dum-dum's, whatever they're called).  Boy terrorist likes them A LOT...
This is the little sucker addict here...prob pouting because he has no sucker
 I was shocked a few weeks ago when we drove by the LQ  (liquor store for short) and my son screamed "Stop at the sucker store mom! I want a sucker!"Mainly because he actually recognized the place.  This went on for a few weeks.  Annoying if I was in a hurry but harmless and kind of cute.

What was not cute was when we went to the grocery store and my son had an all out meltdown because he wanted to go to the liquor store for suckers (we pass by it on the way tot he grocery store).
"I WANT TO GO TO THE LIQUOR STORE!!!!....puuuuulease Mommy, bring me to the liquor store."    This went on the entire shopping trip.

No, the little shit didn't follow that with "because I want a sucker"  he just kept begging me to take him to the liquor store like a 40 year man old man hell bent on starting a week long bender.....

I think I would have gotten less looks had I lit a cigarette and asked him to hold it for me while I shopped.

This is why we don't do "public"
This is also why I better never be stuck in a nursing home.

As a side note this is what happens when Jaxon tries to be and hold his sucker at the same time....
Unfortunately I don't have a picture of him. He was in a corner crying because  we wouldn't let him keep sucking on it....

That's the sucker

Removing the sucker with a grabber tool...

Modern Dad Pages

Thursday, June 11, 2015

My Husband is A Dick

Since I usually dish on everyone else I might as well share one on me....

I went to get my eyebrows threaded a few weeks back.  (It's like waxing or tweezing just with thread)
Anyway, she also offers henna eyebrow dyeing.  I am absolutely incapable of using eyebrow pencils successfully so I thought this would be a good plan.  (No I don't know why, I just did.)

I should back up here....
I was perusing Weld County Buy, Sell and Trade when I saw an add for eyebrow threading and dyeing FOR ONLY $20!!!!  (It's like Craigslist for my area on FB) That's when I realized that I NEEDED my eyebrows threaded and dyed.

So I made an appointment.
On the day of...well actually in the parking lot of the apartment where the eyebrow magic was going to take place I decided that maybe this was a little sketchy.  (The threading was to happen in the apartment not the parking lot...I just realized the sketch factor in the parking lot)

Anyway, I realized no one knew where I was or what I was doing so I sent a quick message to the BFF and I was off.

(See the messages below for your enjoyment:)

So I made it out of my appointment alive.
The threading looked awesome!!!  The henna dye....well it was DARK!!!  She asked me to choose dark or light brown.  I went with dark.  Holy-fucking-goat-balls!! It was BLACK!!! 

Now on some people I'm sure it would have been fine.  But I literally NEVER add any color to my eyebrows, not to mention I rarely ever wear make-up.  My eyebrows stole the show that was my face.

I went to the BFF's place and scrubbed for a while with baking soda, lemon juice and dawn dish soap (cause that's what the internet and her boyfriends hand soap preferences said)
She did a pretty good job of not pointing and laughing -only cause she just had surgery and couldn't.

I was able to tone it down a bit and I guess got used to the stinging caterpillars on my face, because I thought they looked fine.  Maybe a little more "polished" but nothing over the top.
If you've ever lived in Louisiana you've seen these...well they were living on my face.

Clearly I was wrong.  As soon as the husband walked in the door his mouth fell open.  He looked at me like I had grown a testicle on my forehead and couldn't stop laughing.  He asked me what I did to my eyebrows.  (Now this is a man who doesn't notice when I cut my hair, dye my hair or wax my eyebrows - EVEN when the skin is screaming red!)

For reference this is what they looked like.... (ok, honestly, looking back maybe they were a tiny bit over done....)

 I even put on make-up to make them "blend"

This giggling from the hubby continued for about 15 minutes.  
We'd be talking and he'd just start laughing at my face.... 
Awesome right?  

It gets better... 
I move next to him on the couch so he doesn't have to look at me and laugh, and he starts laughing hysterically.  He leans over and hands me his phone.

This is what was on the screen:

 My husband is a dick.....

The eyebrows have faded and look good now.  I think I'll try light brown next....

Domestic Momster
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And We'll Call Him Benjamin...Benjamin Button

Sorry for the lack of posts lately.  I don't know if it's the fact that it's summer and we're stupid busy or if we've just quit being shocked by our kids antics.

Who am I kidding...the kids never fail to shock us -  they're fucking insane.  But the fact that it's summer brings me to the latest of the boys antics.

I should son normally gets haircuts at the salon.  He needs them about every 20 minutes or so.  Seriously, the kid has more hair than I do.

Now that it's summer haircuts switch to homemade.  It's finally warm enough to buzz the boys head, which translates to saving $30 every 2 weeks so I'm all in.

This whole process is also made easier because Daddy shaves his head too and we all know whatever Daddy does is cool.   The difference here is that Daddy shaves his head because the hairs on top aren't keeping up with the hairs on the side.

Until a few weeks ago we just assumed that this minor detail had gone unnoticed by the boy...

Back to the haircut:
So, D takes the boy terrorist upstairs to shave his head.  No more than 45 seconds later my son comes barreling down the stairs with one bald strip shaved into the middle of his noggin crying.  It appears as though he's changed his mind.  NOT a good stopping point.

We get him back upstairs and talk him back into shaving the rest of his head (as long as mommy does it).  I proceed to shave off the remaining hair on the top of his head.  As soon as I get to the side section right above his ear he starts crying again.

Confused,  I ask him what's wrong this now.  Following is the remainder of our conversation:
Me: What's wrong bud?
Jax: I want my hair like daddy's (still sobbing and ducking away from the clippers)
Me: That's what we're doing,  I'm shaving your head like daddy's
Jax: NO YOUR NOT!!!  You're shaving my all head! (translates to you're shaving my whole head)  I  want mine JUST like daddy's!!!

At this point I look at Derek - who hasn't shaved his head in a few weeks.  The realization hits me and I started laughing so hard I had to sit down.  D still looks a little lost at the whole scene.
Through my laughter and tears I manage to explain to D that what Jaxon wants is the same haircut (or lack of) that he has at that exact moment.

My 3-year old child has just asked me to shave a cul-de-sac onto his head.  And he's fucking serious!!!
I stop and put him in front of the mirror...and show him what he looks like:

Me:  This is what you want?  (Because even though he stated he wanted "Daddy's Hair" I assume when he sees it he'll change his mind.  Hell, even Daddy doesn't want Daddy's haircut.)
Jax: Yep, like Daddy's.  Long on the sides.

We didn't actually let him keep that fiasco on his head...instead daddy shaved his "all head" to match Jaxon.

Had I known that my son wanted to look like Benjamin buttons I would have been more careful about shaving the top into a perfect cul-de-sac so he could have at least sported the do for a few days.

The bonus to all of this....We found the kids Halloween costume!!!

Domestic Momster

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

The Trouble Is....You Think You Have Time

I can't seem to get you off of my mind lately, which is odd for me... I don't dwell.
I learned a long time ago that it is impossible to change another person or a situation that isn't yours.  Instead you have two choices:  1)accept it for what it is and be happy or 2)don't and move on.

You taught me that such a long time ago.  Probably far too early, but I learned that lesson multiple times over the years.

I spent years wondering what I could have done, what could have been different, why you weren't willing to change for me.
I spent so much time angry.  Angry that I wasn't enough.  When I didn't have the energy to be angry anymore I was hurt.  I was hurt and insecure.

Being a young women embarking on life is hard enough, but doing it with the baggage of a father who chose to be absent was daunting.  I never felt like I was truly enough. Never really worth it.  That rippled through to everyone that was a part of my life.  You really made life hard for a few men in my life.  I spent years expecting everyone to leave and doing everything I could to not be dependent on another human being for my happiness or fulfillment.  I hurt a lot of people solely because I was unwilling to risk the chance of being hurt myself.

I don't know when that changed or why precisely, but over time I realized that your actions really had nothing to do with me or how much love you had for me.  Your demons were yours alone.  I came to understand that you loved me the best way that you could.  You didn't love me any less, only differently, but it was everything that you had.

It took me almost 26 years to accept you for who you were and to love you in spite of it.  I learned to accept the limitations that our relationship would always entail and to cherish what we did have.  It was sporadic and messy and complicated in ways that only an addict can cause.

But I loved you in spite of it.

That last year was one of the best. I heard from you more often.  We talked without pretense.  I think you finally felt like you could pick up the phone and just talk.  No need to try to explain or apologize for most recent the absence.  Maybe the fact that I had a family of my own took some of the pressure off.  We were getting caught up.  Getting to know each other for the first time as two adults.

There were so many important things I wanted to talk to you about.  I wanted to tell you everything that I'm writing now.  To tell you that you changed me in ways that you probably never even knew.  I wanted to tell you that I'm not angry or resentful.  Just the opposite, I'm thankful for every misstep, every let down, every hard lesson I've learned.  They've all made me who I am.  Because of you I know I can handle most anything thrown my way.  I can deal with uncertainty, and the overcome any insecurity.  I can walk away from anything that isn't good for me and I can be enough for myself.

There's so much I wanted to know from you...about you.  What were you like as a little boy?  Who was your first love? What were your hopes and dreams when you brought me home from the hospital?  Did I make you proud?

Why are you so broken?  That's the one.  The question that haunts me still.  The one question I never had the nerve to ask.  I wish I would have taken the chance of the conversation turning awkward, just so I could tell you that you were ALWAYS enough.  To me you were always enough.  You are my daddy and no one could ever replace that.  No mater what you saw as your failures; regardless of the absences; what you were capable of giving was ALWAYS enough to me.

I thought I had time. I thought we had time.  I thought I had all the time in the world to say these things.  I thought you'd grow old and maybe even grow up. 

I knew that while you were alive there was always a chance of you getting better, getting help, being the kind of grandfather that I know you could have been.

That's been the hardest thing of all.
Letting go of that hope that I always hid closest to my heart.
I already know how to live with your absence, but I still haven't figured out what to do with all of my hopes and dreams for you.  All of my secret (and maybe foolish) hopes and dreams for our future.

See,  I learned to live without you a long time ago Daddy, but I never gave up on you and I'm not sure what to do with all of those dreams now that you're gone.

I wish I would have known that goodbye was coming I would have sent my dreams with you.  At  least you could have known all the faith I still had in you.

9/16/2016-  Wanted to show off some of my new ink.  After writing this piece I decided that the saying "the trouble is you think you have time" didn't just relate to this experience in my life, it's a constant thing I remind my self of.   I spend so much time trying to get through the day and get everything done that I sometimes forget to enjoy today.  I don't want to look back on the next 10 years and wish I had enjoyed the present more.  I don't want to miss out on time with My Little's because I'm hurrying to get the dishes done.  I try to remind myself to treat each day like it could be my last...what would I do if I knew I didn't more time.

So, much to the horror of my mother I went and got it tattooed on my body.  Sorry mama but I love it!

Monday, May 4, 2015

I wouldn't Love You Sooner

I saw this and thought of you today...
I thought of all the years and things we've missed in each others lives.

For a second I wished for the ability to turn back time.  The ability to experience you as a young and care-free 20 year old with your life ahead of you and no responsibilities to weigh you down or reign you in.  (Not that you ever needed much reigning) The ability to share my crazy, fun 20's with you without the tethers of kids, babysitters, mortgages and careers.

I was exciting, spontaneous, wild and funny - I stayed up all night and slept all day. I ate crappy fast food and still rocked bikini.  My body hadn't been rearranged by a baby yet and neither had my life.   I didn't live by a 12 year old's school calendar or a weekly meal plan posted on the fridge. (I'm sure you didn't either. I've heard stories...)

That wish was fleeting though, because I didn't fall in love with you for your ability to be spontaneous or your lack responsibilities or the way your ass looked in those jeans (that did help a little.)

I fell in love with the way you loved me.  All of the little ways you went out of your way to show me you cared.  I fell in love with a man who  never failed to remind me that even at my worst I was enough.  I fell in love with the way you loved my daughter.  I fell in love with a man who chose to be honest even thought it wouldn't be easy.

Every day you give me more to be in love with. Every day I'm thankful I found you when I did and not a second sooner.

Had I been granted that wish to turn back time and find you sooner you would have gotten a very different person.  I wouldn't have appreciated the quiet calm you bring to my life or the security that our daily routine brings.  I was on a mission to be independent and experience it all.  To prove to myself that I didn't need to depend on anyone...Being dependent on another person terrified me.

By the time you got me I had a whole attic full of baggage, but I was finally comfortable in my own skin.  I was ok with the person I had become.  The thought of sharing my life and space and time with you didn't terrify me.  The idea of being one half of our whole didn't feel constricting.

Beginning this life with you was easy, marrying you was a no-brainier.  Continuing with you on this journey is everything that I never knew I wanted.

If I had one wish it wouldn't be to turn back the clock and love you sooner.  I'd wish for it to never stop.  I'd love you longer than forever. 


Thursday, April 30, 2015

Terrorists Hate Cars...or Maybe Just Me

I think I need an in-home nanny....the whole getting the terrorists up, dressed, in the car and off to daycare is enough to drive a saint bat-shit crazy.  Well, that and getting them home.

Shit, anywhere considered a public place is a crap shoot.

I don't know what it is about getting ready and being in the car, but my toddlers turn into drunk sorority girls with white girl problems as soon as the door slams.

Here's a recap of this morning:

6:00AM - Wake up Lannie - she cries because she wants her peepee diaper ON!
Change diaper amid protests and flailing.  Remind her that she could just use the toilet like the rest of us and solve the whole problem.  Suggestion not taken seriously
6:10 - Dress unreasonable toddler amidst protests (she wants to wear a knitted sweater...not a logical t-shirt on a 70 degree day)
6:20 - Head to bathroom to brush tiny terrorists teeth.  Hear a thud from TT's room and immediate hysterics.  Run to room and find she has thrown herself on the floor at the atrocity of not being carried to the bathroom
6:22 - More hysterics - mom used the Frozen toothpaste not the Dora toothpaste....(I'm now looking online for  ambien toothpaste)
6:25 - CARRY tiny princess to bedroom to wake up brother
6:28 - Move the herd of toddlers downstairs for shoes and drinks that have already been pre-made.
6:30 Jaxon wants to wear his hard had to daycare and bring his bunny, a pillow and a full sized blanket.  When he hears the word no his knees buckle and he falls to the floor sobbing like one of those drunk college girls who caught her boyfriend cheating on her.
6:33 - Shoes and jackets are on and drinks are passed out
6:34 - We almost made it through the front door...Lannie realized that she has white milk in her cup and her brother has OJ. Milk is obviously poisonous and I'm trying to kill her with it - she flops again....go to fridge and get OJ for the princess (I'm annoyed but not stupid...I plan for some of this shit)
6:36 - Half carry half drag the terrorists to the car (And think about leaving them there and calling a taxi)

6:43 - We are all in the car and the bickering and whining begins.  They both want different drinks, they want nuggets when we pass by McDonald's (It's 6-fucking-thirty-in-the-morning is apparently not an acceptable answer and crying ensues) they want a lollypop from the beer store (yep...I drink because they cry).

They even argue while hunting for Easter Eggs
6:48 - My breaking point is when Jaxon tells me Lannie made an ugly face at him and she says he mad a noise at her. They both start screaming at each other so I tell Lannie to stick her fingers in her ears and tell Jax that his sister just looks ugly naturally -quit looking at her.  I silently wonder if these nice road worker men would watch my kids till my husband comes to retrieve them....and I plan my get away.

This afternoon won't be much different - they'll argue about what's on the TV (yes in the fucking car...they will argue about a TV show in a vehicle over a 10 minute drive)  They'll both make faces and cry about it, they'll sob when we blow past McDonalds.  Jaxon will tell me how much he hates dinner and only loves chicken nuggets.  I will still dream of leaving them with the city workers....

Instead we'll hit the liquor store.  Mommy gets a drink kids get lolly pops....we'll tackle the rest of the night with a combination of threats and bribes.
I need that bottle on the right....

I'm seriously thinking of getting a limo with one of those roll up dividers.  I think we'd all be much happier...

Seriously who has 2 toddlers at on time on purpose?  Why didn't anyone warn me about this?!?!?!

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Do Not Embarrass Me In Public!!

Have you seen the video of the mom pulling her son out of the riot?  I'm sure you have...EVERYONE has seen it.  
 Here it is in case you live under a rock:

 It got me to thinking about my kids and the way I discipline them.  I've been called strict, too strict, sometimes even mean.  Sometimes I think those statements are true and think that I maybe I should give my kids a break.  After I've screamed big red's face off or given one of the babies a swat I sometimes wonder if I'm doing the right thing and whether or not they'll hate me when they're older.

I've noticed a trend in parents being friends with their kids and this softer friendlier approach to parenting.  That is NOT me.  I am not soft or friendly when dealing with unruly children I've given birth to.  I expect my kids to behave, be respectful, follow my instructions and most importantly DO NOT EMBARRASS ME IN PUBLIC! (clearly they all have hearing issues because I must give orders exactly 5 times and scream like a banshee on the 5th one to get a response)

Anyway, they know these rules, they also know I will not hesitate remove them from public in the most embarrassing way or swat them in the middle of WalMart if they're being a jackass.  I don't scream in public but I do grit my teeth and mutter warnings like "If you do not quit crying this instant I will give you something to cry about". 

What I have noticed is that I'm not the norm. Twice I've had someone make a comment to me about the way I chose to discipline my children.  Twice I've told a complete stranger to mind their own business or they'd be the next to receive an ass whipping....I know....Classy right?  (Before you assume that I'm pile driving my kids into the concrete floor in the cracker aisle -  I don't beat them.  However, I will yank an arm or swat their legs) 

Watching that mom pull her kid out of a dangerous situation and give him a reminder of who's boss made me realize I'm doing just fine.  Some of you do well with the nice friendly approach.  Some of you have have naturally amiable kids (if that's you - screw you man) some of you are raising hoodlums.

My mother put the fear of god into me.  I'm 34 and live across the country from her.  I still wouldn't talk back or be nasty to her.  Not even in an email.  Not to mention I had no less than 12 aunts and uncles in any situation that were fully prepared to slap the shit out of me if I acted up.  I don't hate any of them and I have no arrest record.  I think there's a correlation there...

My children don't have to like me, but they will respect me.  They will respect me and other adults and any laws or rules or they will face my wrath (and anyone else who I've deemed acceptable - which means any adult that sees them acting up.  Seriously, feel free to knock some sense into them - please).  I'm ok saying that my kids are more scared of the consequences at home than they are of those at school or other places.  That's my job.  Maybe that fear will keep my hoodlums out of a riot or out of a jail cell.

Hopefully it will keep us both off  of CNN.  If it doesn't get ready for a show....that's rule #1 in my house DON'T EMBARRASS ME IN PUBLIC!!! 

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Mommy Buys a New Phobia

I wish I had a good funny blog for you today but we've had a sick terrorist.
I haven't done much but be at her little unreasonable beck and call since Friday, so if something happened I missed it in passing.

I do have a "Here's your sign moment" from Children's Hospital....

So, I had no idea girl terrorist was even sick.  She wasn't extraordinarily fussy or puking or pooping on furniture like the rest of my kids do when they're sick.  She was just a little clingy.
Doesn't look sick does she?

Anyway, I only noticed that she felt warm as I passed by and kissed her on the forehead.  When I got the thermometer out and took her temperature it read 104.6!
 (I couldn't remember what dying temp was so I wasted another 20 minutes googling "when will a fever kill a two year old" - according to Google  it's somewhere from 104-107.  Helpful.  Also, NEVER google your kids health.  I was able to diagnose her with no less than 17 life threatening conditions in under 10 minutes.)

I gave up and called the nurse line at Children's.  She initially told me to bring tiny in then said not to, just watch her temp and bring her in before 105...(which was why I was going to bring her in at 104.6...but whatever)  We motrin-ed up and waited.  The fever broke and then it spiked to 104.9.  I gave her Tylenol and headed in to Children's.

Of course her fever broke the second they called us into triage.  I gave them my story and he took her vitals and sent us to a room.  Doc came and and I gave her the same spiel. So now I'm sitting in a room at the ER with a basically perfect looking kid with no fever, no runny nose, no gash, no broken bones.  Telling this lady that my kid did have a stupid high fever only 15 minutes ago and it's happened twice already today.

All while sick fever child is playing happily in the corner totally not helping me to convince the doctor lady that she is actually sick.  When the Dr. asked her how she felt she even said " pretty good" in her happy little voice.  (I called her a damn traitor in my head) 
Anyway we get dismissed with a diagnosis of a cold (because I think she felt sorry for me) but she did give me the following instruction:
"High fever wont do any damage until it hits 107 degrees.  But if she peaks over 105 bring her back.  Oh, and keep an eye out -  if her fever spikes fast she could have febrile seizures.  Definitely bring her in if she has those"

WHAT??? Just like that?  By the way she could have seizures?!?! Thanks for that bit of info...I wasn't worried enough but add seizures to the mix.  That totally calms me.

And since I brought her here for nothing once already It's super likely that I'll need your persuasion to bring her in if she starts seizing on my couch.  Not sure I needed the extra info, but I'll be sure to freak out and have a mini-stroke every time she flinches or sneezes...because that could be the beginning of febrile seizure of course.  Commence creepy staring at the 2-year old for the rest of the day...

We were generally able to maintain a normal temp with Tylenol and Motrin and by Monday night the fever was gone as suddenly as it came.
This might be spider man...or a seizure....
No clue what caused it, but now I think one of my kids is always on the verge of a seizure...awesome.  Thanks Doctor lady...

What did I do this weekend?  Not much, just paid $60 to catch a new phobia.
How was your weekend?

Thursday, April 16, 2015

What Ever Happened To Consequences

I'm posting this in hopes that someone might have the magic answer for me.

Maybe some of you have gone through this or maybe you're a teacher and have dealt with the other side of this shit show.  Maybe you have some advice for me.  Maybe I'm doing the right thing and just need to keep on course.  Maybe I'm way off base....either way let me know.  We all know I can take criticism so don't be afraid to offend me or hurt my feelings.

A few things first.  The email I'll post below is to the dean of students about Big Red and my (almost) decision to not enroll her in summer school.  I sent it to the dean of students in response to a letter they sent home about Red being eligible for summer school and the fact that if she gets C's or higher in this final quarter she might be exempt from summer school all together and get to go to 7th grade.

The letter came home and I signed it but she forgot to turn it in....THIS is my CONSTANT issue with her.  The child FORGETS EVERYTHING!!!  She is smart and could easily pass 6th grade but she just doesn't turn in her homework.  I sit at home with her EVERY school night and make sure she does all of her work.  She only actually turns in about 1/4 of it.  The rest gets lost in space somewhere I guess.  Same for school work - she just doesn't bring it home to finish it.

This has been a constant issue since Kindergarten.  Teachers have gone above and beyond their job duties to help her succeed.  I have gone above and beyond what she should require (I'm the one that opens the book bag and checks for the homework and tells her what she needs to do).

Nothing helps and I think it's in part due to the fact that she's never had any real consequences outside of being grounded at home.  She's never failed.  She magically ends up with C's and D's and goes on to the next grade.  They even assigned her a special teacher that helps her make up the shit she blew off in class the day before.  So essentially she gets to not do her work, have 2 extra days and extra help from her personal teacher. Where is the consequence in that?  Is there any reason for her to change her behavior?

Again, let me stress the fact that Big Red IS NOT, slow or struggling with the actual concepts she's being taught.  She repeatedly gets A's and B's on the work and tests that she actually does.

Anyway, the dean of students requested that she have me at least email him to let him know I got the original letter or she would be sent to lunch detention.

Well, I wasn't gonna send the letter - finally a consequence right?  Before I did that I called my mom and asked her opinion...bad plan.  She told me she'd send the letter and I decided that I'd better send the letter (cause my mama said so and I'm still scared of her). I also took the time to let him know where i stood on the whole issue of summer school.

What I'm asking for now is your opinion...and thoughts, suggestions....  Am I going overboard for not enrolling her in summer school.  (In addition to just enrolling her it'll cost me $300 and I have to find a way to get her there and back every day at 8AM and Noon)

I can't guarantee I'll take any of your advice but I'd love to hear it....

Just got a call from the dean.  The short  version of the conversation is that Red will most certainly be a candidate for summer school in English (possibly one or 2 other subjects).  However, in their eyes she isn't a candidate for retention (being held back) because she does grasp the concept of the material and "data" shows that retention doesn't change behaviors.  But, if she fails summer school AND continues the pattern in 7th grade we can then talk about re-assigning her back to 6th grade.(That sounds like a whole hell of a lot of wasted time and money for a maybe...but I'm no child expert)

Honestly I feel like he was trying to pacify me with the last part and I don't think it will have any effect on her behavior.  She has already accepted the fact that she will loose her summer and doesn't seem to be bothered by it. (Already using it as an excuse to not do work this year) 

When I told him this he did suggest that for a consequence  we could make her work off the cost of summer school ($125-$300).  Not a bad idea if I concede to summer school...which I haven't yet.  (I can always just not pay and not bring her)

So add any ideas for summer jobs to my request for suggestions.  Things that are not fun!
Know of any child labor sweatshops hiring?

A 3rd update.  Two things happened recently
1) I think I found a "summer job" of babysitting (for free) in the even Big Red goes to summer school
2) Big Red has pulled her grades up to A's, B's and C's - she's not completely out of the woods, but there is a possibility.  I did tell her I was considering summer school but she'd have a job ALL summer and I hadn't decided yet. (I also told her she gets 1 shot at summer school for the next 12 years so she better really need it when she decides to use it...)

While I'm happy she's doing good it drives me crazy that she clearly has the potential for good grades any time she wants...she just dosen't choose to.

As a side note to my mom:
Holy shit..I did this to you in High school...OMG I'm sorry!  Here's my public apology.

I am SO SORRY for being a difficult asshole please remove the curse! 

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

You're Killin Me Gwyn...

I had a version of this on my FB, but decided to post it here to elaborate.
I ran across this link a while ago and it bothered me.
The more I saw it and heard about it the more it bothered me.

(Here's one of the Links Gwyneth Takes The Snap Challenge)

Basically Gwyneth decided to try living off of a SNAP (or food stamp budget for a week).  The number she used was $29.00/week.  I assume she just took that number as correct from Mario Batalli (who challenged her) without doing any homework, because with a quick internet search I found that is not necessarily true. 

$29 is an arbitrary number pulled from someones ass - if she's trying to bring attention to the cause she should use the worst possible case...meaning the lowest income section who receives the largest benefit.  A 15-second web search brings up the Maximum Monthly Allotment Chart
(you can find it here)
People in Household Maximum Monthly Allotment
$   194
$   357
$   511
$   649
$   771
$   925
$ 1,022
$ 1,169
Each additional person
$    146
Not that it's much, but by my calculations Each person gets $37.44 max a week.
(Family of 4 gets $649 a month,
$7,788/52(weeks in a year)=$149.77/per family per week OR $37.44per person)

First, let me say understand what she's trying to do but she really only succeeded in showing every "Average American" how out of touch with reality she actually is. If she wanted to make a point she should have done some research.  What she did was make herself look like an out-of-touch ass.

I've never had to use SNAP, but I have been on tight budgets before.  I can tell you the first thing I did was research.  Whether it was looking for low cost high volume recipes or just looking for the sales adds for meat, I checked in to my current real life situations.

Secondly, if I were in a position to have to use SNAP benefits you can be damn sure that I'd know EXACTLY what my weekly allotment would be.  She did none of this...just took a half-assed idea and ran with it. Thought she'd make a point and show us regular Joe's shes one of us.
Well, to me it's more like a slap in the face to anyone that has had to budget or live of of less than what they need. 

On top of that she's doing this for herself NOT her whole family.  Hell, I can live off of $29/week.  Ever heard of ramen and sandwiches?  Whats hard is trying to budget for a family with children - notice she didn't broach that subject.

Maybe her kids can't be subjected to such things, maybe in her epic planning session she forgot that part (along with any actual planning).  Either way feeding yourself on $29/a week is doable and really not pity-inducing in my book.  Trying to feed a family of 4 on $150/week that could get tricky and I might have commended her for that.

So here's what Mrs. Goop bought:
View image on Twitter

And here are more of my issues...

  •  Snap stands for SUPPLEMENTAL NUTRITIONAL ASSISTANCE PROGRAM not whole grocery bill assistance program.  While you used your $29 on this the government has factored in that you'll also be using 30% of your own resources on food.
  • Even if she's using $29/week/per person...she has a family of 4 right? Either she bought her limes and beans at the same place she buys her heels or she couldn't actually commit to living like an Average American (see our kids aren't exempt from our budgets here in the rest of America) 
  • Sister needs a shopping lesson - unless someone is gifting her a case of coronas what the fuck is she gonna do with all those limes?
  • Sister needs a shopping lesson - she has 2 kids to feed for a week and there's not a single pack of chicken nuggets or mac and cheese??? Not the case in my house. 
  • She missed her own point - "how hard it is to live on snap" (I'm assuming that's what she was going for)  I think any parent that has lived on a budget will agree; you will eat canned pork and beans for a week if it means your kids can have the food they like/need. (I don't see 7 limes as necessary or one ear of corn acceptable)  Maybe im off off base, but if I had her grocery haul the only ones eating would be the cows out back!  That clearly isn't kid friendly food.
And who the hell buys 1 ear of corn????  Are they each gonna get 1/4 of the cob?  COME ON!!! Trade in the limes and get a few chicken eat chicken Gwenny...just ask their nanny

Maybe I'm being harsh, but if you're going to try and raise awareness for a group of people at least try and understand what their actual challenges are.  Hell, even Paris Hilton was able to accomplish that with her "Simple Life" show, so it can't be too hard. It's not like we're an elusive species.
 You're just gonna have to leave Hollywood  to find us.

***As a side note...just to see how I would actually do I tried to plan a weeks worth of meals on the maximum snap budget ($149.77)  I was able to do it for $125.74.

A few things to take into consideration.
I planned this week as 7 full days with all of us eating each meal. (only the kids (2) have snack time).  Usually the kids are at daycare 5 days a week and are served Breakfast, lunch and snacks, but for consistency I just pretended they were home.  Also, we usually eat left overs for lunch at work the next day - I didn't account for that and instead planned separate Lunches.

I tried to be fair in purchasing foods.  There are some items that I will buy store brands of and some items that I will only buy major brands.  I did that here too.  Also, a think to note is that many of these items will carry over into next week relaxing the budget a little (cereal, bread, string cheese...etc)

In conclusion it takes a little more time to plan and match prices but it's doable (even without the 30% of your own resources)  No you can't have steaks every night, or seafood but it is doable.

Take a look for yourself:

 And here are screenshots of my online shopping list (a service I use in real life)