Friday, March 27, 2015

The Boy Has a "Problem" and His Sister is missing her Silver Spoon

I had a good thing going.
 For about 8-1/2 years I was pretty sure I had this parenting thing down.

Big red was an AWESOME baby.  She slept through the night at 4 weeks.  When she got older she slept on a solid 12 hour schedule (8am-8pm).  By the time she was a two all we had to do was tell her it was 8 o'clock and she scampered off to bed.  Not to be seen again until 8, sometimes 9 the next morning.  All blue eyes and baby cuteness.  By the time she was 4 she would ask us to go to bed (or fall asleep where she was sitting) at eight sharp.  She's 12 now and come 9-10PM she informs us shes exhausted and must go to bed NOW.  Big Red was a fluke!

I'm 3 years into raising my two demon-possessed, sadistic dictators precious quasi-twins and feel like I was totally scammed.  I haven' raised them any different (well, except for the nights these guys out number and exhaust me.  Then I hide in the shitter and eat their Halloween candy - I never hid from Red.  It was one on one back then....and I can still silence her with a look)

These guys are unrelenting.  I think the boy has a secret crack problem.  (That's the only explanation I can come up with for his lack of sleep and constant movement.)  It's starts with the sight of his pajamas, or socks, or Tiny Terrorists diaper, or letting the dogs out to pee....any slight movement at evening time alerts him to the possibility of bed time. (This can happen at 8 right before bed or at 6 when I'm changing Tiny's 16th crappy diaper of the evening - He's paranoid - crackheads are paranoid)  He immediately goes limp falls to the ground and wails about how he doesn't want to go to bed and he's not tired.  (Crack heads are never tired...)  I'm not sure why after 8 months of this exact same routine he hasn't caught on.  Mommie's tired too...kinda tired of dealing with shit like this and you WILL go to bed no matter what kind of show you put on.  Sometimes he walks, sometimes I carry him lovingly with his head on my shoulder and sometimes I hold him around the waist and drag him screaming and kicking, but he ALWAYS goes to bed.  Next comes the 1-2 hours of "requests".  Water, pee, just a hug, just a kiss, just want to tell you a story.  I'm not sure which is worse, but but I'm looking into children's ambien or a toddler rehab....

Par for the course Tiny terrorist won't be outdone and has her own production.  I'll have to take some of the blame for her because she's the baby and I pretty much cave to her demands.  But she's so stinking cute! (She also goes to bed willingly and can't open her door by herself yet).  She doesn't have any nefarious habits to speak of, but she's clearly been born in the wrong family.  I don't know who that family was, but she most certainly was designed to have a full time butler, maid, chef and court jester.  Before going to bed she demands her binky, and she demands to be picked up to retrieve it herself off of her dresser.  No, getting it for her will not do.  Next she needs to be tucked in and read her story.  Not any story ONLY "I Know My Daddy Loves Me" and ONLY daddy is allowed to read it.  Next she will require kisses from each of us, then she will put her little hand up and tell us "You leave now".  Once we are gone, her door securely shut and she has heard our footsteps down the stairs then (and only then) will she shriek out her demands for a sip of milk.  We have exactly 21 seconds before her world implodes and she thinks her faithful servants we have gone and left her to die of dehydration alone in her room.  She will take 5 sips and tell s to take it away.  Waiting until the door is shut to remember that she needs to be re-kissed.  She gives us her "I love you's"  and dismisses us again with the hand and "You go away now"

Sometimes I can take all this in stride and enjoy the absurdity of it.  I am able to acknowledge how cute my crazy demanding terrorists are and not lose my proverbial shit.  But tonight all I really want is 30 minutes of peace and quiet to pee alone and curse big red for the big fat lie she perpetuated.

God, she was an easy baby. Not a bad plan by the man up there I guess. Had Big Red acted like these two there wouldn't be a blog to read.  They give me good stories, but Big Read gave me amazing sleep.  She also made me think I knew what the hell I was doing...that was shitty of her.


In the moments that I have to hide in the bathroom I remember that one day in the future they will be teenagers who want to sleep all day and not be bothered.

Well....paybacks a bitch kiddos.  Get ready for bedtime stories and me waking you up at 2 am staring at you while you sleep poking you in the arm.  When you're fully awake and sufficiently creeped out....mommy's gonna need some milk.


Friday, March 20, 2015

This Is Why

If you asked me yesterday (or any other night for the  bast 2-1/2 years) if I was lucky you might have gotten any number of sarcastic answers - none of them being an emphatic yes. 

In fact I'd expect myself to say something more like this:
 "Well Lannie crapped on the carpet before 7AM, Derek had to work all morning and Jaxon has had 27 tantrums already  because he doesn't want dinner and it's only 3:30PM"

I'm not sure if it's the fact that I FINALLY have an amazing adult only vacation with my husband looming on the horizon, or because I had a conversation with a friend who has a very sick kid or because it's warming up and all of sudden the terrorists can go play in the back yard alone, but for whatever reason I keep thinking of just how lucky I am.

Most days come at me like a freight train - get up, get terrorists ready, diffuse tantrum #1 & #2, drop off terrorists at daycare, work, pick up terrorists, referee terrorist car seat wars, make dinner, listen to terrorists tell me they don't like dinner they want chips, argue with big read about homework and grades, clean poop off of something....rinse and repeat. 

None of that feels very lucky.  It feels very much like a prison sentence or a really bad rendition of groundhog day and I forget all the things I should be thankful for.  (Don't get me wrong...I've got 2 toddlers 15 months apart and a full time job...I still have a lot to bitch about too)

The reason I'm so lucky is because of the man that I'm married to -


These are snapshots of our life...they show his character and all of the things I love about him, but this still isn't IT.

This is IT- this is why I'm lucky:
 Because when all of the noise and craziness of our lives fades to the background (or when they actually go to sleep) this is how he looks at me...It doesn't matter if I'm dressed up and ready for a night out or if I'm 187lbs, 22 hours into labor and not being very pleasant person.  He never stops loving me and never lets me forget it.
 We have our share of rough days and anything that can go wrong always seems to, but I'm lucky because the man I married never lets me forget that I will always have a partner and a lover and a friend and those things are unconditional.

Thank you honey for sharing this crazy ride with me!  I might not tell you every day, but know that I know just how lucky I am to have you by my side!

And....I call Not It on the next shitty diaper....




Friday, March 13, 2015

What I Would Actually Say....

I found this links a few minutes ago:
http://www.hercampus.com/school/scranton/50-things-every-girl-should-be-able-say-her-best-friend
It's called 50 Things Every Girl Should Be Able to Say to Her Best Friend.

I read it an realized that I wouldn't say ANY of these things to my best friend.  Maybe to some of my acquaintances, but that's just not how my bf and I talk to each other - we're a little more "colorful" and that's why we hang out....Or maybe that's why no one else hangs out with us...

(Before I get started I should introduce you to my BF.  Her name is Jessica and she's a giant.  For reals....Well, to me she is.  I'm 4'-11" and she's every bit of 6'-0" if not taller.  We're like mutt and Jeff and pretty much polar opposites in every sense - except for our sarcastic nature and use of curse words.  Our conversations are profanity laced and hysterical.  She one of only 3 ladies that I consider a true best friend.  I love that I can tell her literally anything....she'll totally judge me for it but she'll say it out loud to me.  I've thrown a few pictures in of us so you can see the actual differences in height.)

Anyway I revised the list...enjoy!


1. You already had your cheat meal today.  If I eat that last piece of pizza I’m going to shit my pants (that I already can’t wear cause I ate the last piece the last 6 times)
2. Seriously, you’ll be pissed that you ate that slice of pizza tomorrow.
Fuck it lets get burgers and say we ate healthy
3. That outfit isn’t the most flattering.
You kind of look like a homeless hooker in that
4. That $100 dress isn’t worth it. You’re going to wear it once.
I get it you’re like 11 feet tall buy the $180 jeans and lets go find some food
5. That $100 dress doesn’t look good on you.
Again, you kind of look like a homeless hooker and why do you have $100 to blow on a dress?
6. Stop being such a b*tch to your mom.
I called you a C**t on FB…did your mom see that shit?
7. You’re being really annoying.
You need drugs Debbie Downer – seriously I got a doctor for that…
8. Stop over analyzing. Relax.
Go get drunk and quit whining
9. He’s making you look stupid.
Fucking run or quit bitching about it…you have 2 choices.  Whining isn’t one of them
10. Do you really like him? Or do you like the attention?
 Again… Fucking run or quit bitching about it…you have 2 choices.  Whining isn’t one of them
11. You deserve to be texted at 9 p.m. not 2 a.m.
Who cares what the f you deserve – go effing find him and break his phone – then he has a reason not to text you
12. STFU, please.  Are you going to keep bitching or are you gonna help me drink this?
13. Stop complaining you failed the test… you didn’t even study.
Eh…not at our age
14. Get your shit together.
You’re a fucking trainwreck dude, but I still love you
15. You’re killing my vibe.
- You need drugs Debbie Downer – seriously I got a doctor for that…
16. I know you don’t like so and so, but she’s never done anything to me.
Another one not in our world – she’s the friendly one – I don’t like people’s faces
17. I love you.
18. Are we dressing cute or homeless?
 Awesome – I’m wearing my yoga pants in public too then…
19. Can you come sit with me and watch me eat?
Oh you’re on another one of your 2 calorie meal plans -  cool.  Here’s a carrot…you can watch me eat this whole pizza.  Want some?  It’s good!
20. If I get denied from the bar, you can stay.
Screw you – if I get kicked out you’re coming with me
21. If you get denied from the bar, I’ll leave with you.  – of course
22. You look orange. Woah – nice tan oompa loompa – you should get a loofah and a refund

















23. Your hair looks greasy.   Rough morning?
24. Yes, you need to shower.
We’re sitting at my house with my two toddlers who may or may not eat their boogars-  no you don’t need to get ready just get here – and bring wine
25. You have food in your teeth.
– you got shit in your grill dude
26. You have a boogie.
1) we don’t say boogie 2) I would curse “You’ve got shit hanging out of your nose dude”
27. Your boyfriend cheated on you. –
Your boyfriend cheated on you…let me help you get revenge.  No she’s not prettier than you, she’s a troll.  A stupid troll.  Want me to google her address?
28. You’re beautiful.
I’m not going out with you…you make me look like a homeless hooker.  I’ve gotta go put my face on now…Jesus you suck!
29. Your bra is showing.
I can see your bra…you’re ginormous boobs are distracting me
30. Sorry, but I’d prefer if you didn’t borrow that.
HAHA!  Yeah you should totally borrow my pants. Capri’s are totally in style!
31. You got way too drunk last night.
Did I yell at a cop? I think I wore your bra on my head…This is why I don't drink yeager.  I’ve got to go vomit…
32. You’re flagged.
I don’t even know what this meansHe’s gay
34. You’re being too aggressive on social media.
Seriously if you post one more fucking dog or horse picture or stupid uplifting quote I’m going to come over there and stab you in the eye
35. You really hurt my feelings when you said
  HAHA!!!  No Jess that wasn’t directed at you.  No I’m not mad… I’m never mad…come on don’t be a vagina
36. Someday, you will find the man of your dreams.
We have totally had this conversation and I might have gotten mushy so I’m skipping it…
37. Until then, we can be dating.
Hey I’m bringing someone to your party…no I don’t know his name…met him at the bar.  But he’s buying the booze and drives a benz
38. Can you sleep in my bed with me?
You can totally crash here. Kait;s not home you can have her bed if you want a TV or the couch   -that couch is fucking amazing
39. I wouldn’t instagram that if I were you.
If you don’t post that shit I’m gonna…IT’S FUNNY!  QUIT BEING A VAGINA!
40. You’re taking forever.
I’m the one with kids I’m always 1 hour late…
41. You’re wearing WAY too much perfume.
You smell like a French whore…wtf are you wearing?
42. He’s here. We have to leave.
43. You’re being dramatic.
QUIT BEING A VAGINA  
44. Can I use your deodorant?
45. You need to respect yourself.
“You need to respect yourself…”<snicker> Gulps wine out of box “Don’t act like that chick over there” <snicker>
46. He has a new girlfriend.
Psh…that bitch looks like SKELETOR!!!!!
47. I’m so grateful to have you. I fucking love you!  I’m so glad we can hang out and hate shit together!
33. He’s just not that into you.
me being classy as usual
48. Thanks for being there. Thanks for not picking up your fucking phone and making me listen to your douchey ring tone asshole.  Call me back. By the way...IT"S NOT FUCKING SUMMER ANYMORE!!!
49. I farted.
50. I love you. I love your big giant face 

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Baby steps (in pink light up heels)

I think we hit a milestone today....or my terrorists just act like terrorists in my presence to screw with me.

Yesterday I took a shower and left them sitting on the couch watching cartoons.
I fully expected to find them covered in something sticky and crying when I got out, but to my amazement THEY WERE IN THE SAME SPOT!!

For this they got bubbles in the bath.

They promptly ate the bubbles and smeared them in each others eyes creating a 15 minute freak out fest.  Now they will only get bubbles when they've been bad.  (Sort of a passive aggressive form of punishment.)

And true to form they tormented each other and the rest of us for the remainder of the night.

Lannie stole Jaxon's monkey slippers,
Jaxon stole (and wore) Lannie's princess heels,

















Lannie spit on Jaxon,
Jaxon stole Lannie's banana,

 









And.....Both Terrorists plugged up the bathroom sink and left it to overflow so their duckies "could swim"

Baby steps I guess....



Friday, March 6, 2015

Samuel L Jackson In My Kitchen

***Here's the warning this contains MF bombs...read at your own risk***

So anyway, we had a visitor last night...apparently Samuel L. Jackson was in my kitchen talking about chocolate. 

Let me set the scene:
It was about 8:30. The kids were playing in the playroom and D and I were on the couch watching TV.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Boy Terrorist head into he kitchen.  I was fully expecting him to ask for chocolate (he ALWAYS asks for chocolate).  What I was not prepared for was the way he channeled Samuel L Jackson when asking for said chocolate.

It went like this:
Boy Terrorist: Hey Guys..did you know your not supposed to say motherfucking chocolate?  It's not good to say that.
Me: Shocked and Speechless and stifling giggles (because I'm a stellar mother remember)
D: Jaxon! Come here right now!!
Jaxon walks over totally innocent looking confused
D: You are not supposed to say that word! EVER!  Do you understand me?! I don't want to ever   hear you say that again!
Boy Terrorist: OK, I was just telling you that it was bad of you. Can I have chocolate now?
He Looks so innocent...

And before anyone points at me...this isn't my doing!  Had he referred to it as Fu%$*# chocolate I would have taken the blame.  I'm well known to drop F bombs, but I don't ever drop the MF bombs.  No one does in real life.

Well except my Uncle Jimmy but he's like 80 and is old enough to say what he pleases...