Thursday, December 31, 2009
So, I'm not sure what has crawled up my toddler's mini britches, but lately he has been a mad dog. I mean, really hard to deal with.
I know he is entering the "I can do it by myself so get out of my freaking way" phase of todderhood. But, does that really mean he has to throw scrambled eggs at the Christmas tree and have a meltdown when I keep him from chasing the dog under the bed? Does that really mean he has to throw a tantrum when I wipe his nose so that the boogers smear across the carpet and weild the toilet cleaning brush like a sword until I try to grab it from him, which just causes him to run from the bathroom to our bedroom where he rubs the dirty, poopy, uriney, brush end all over our bed? I mean, really.
And he used to be well-behaved for a one-yr old in Wal-Mart, Target, places like that. I say "used to be" to indicate that he isn't anymore. Not after yesterday.
So, yesterday's trip to Wal-Mart started out rocky from the get-go. Max has begun a new "bye-bye" routine which includes kicking his legs and screaming when I try to buckle him in his car sear. He wants to buckle himself into his car seat. Problem? He is one year old and can't do it. Those buckles are baby-proof for a reason. But, if we want to go anywhere, I have to start the car, so eventually I take over and buckle his car seat. Meltdown.
So, from the beginning, he was crying. When we get to Wal-Mart, I put him in his stroller and he starts screaming and kicking his legs again. This time, I have no idea why. It is one of those mystery cries which have driven mommies all over the world to drinking. But, I figure he will quit once we get inside, so I keep going.
I enter Wal-Mart on the produce side, right in front of all the registers, cashiers and the people waiting in line who have nothing better to do than stare at the woman with the tortured toddler. He is just screaming louder now. I am thinking, "Oh, nightmare of nightmares, please make it stop. If I take him out of his stroller and carry him, maybe his head will stop spinning like Linda Blair."
Boy, I was wrong. When I tried to take him out of his stroller, he screamed louder, if that was possible, and started kicking his legs and pushing against my face with his little fists. His legs were stuck under the tray table on his stroller and I was pulling and pulling while he tried to punch my head off my body. A man walked by and said, "Is he mad or is he mad?" Yes, he's mad. If you couldn't tell.
By this point, my face was bright red and I refused to look up and see how many people were staring at the scene we were making. But, I wasn't going to let him win. I wasn't going to leave completely defeated and humiliated. I was at least going to get some of the things on my list. Whatever I could carry while carrying my son and pushing his stroller. I must have looked totally out of my mind.
Well, turns out all I could carry was orange juice, a jar of lil' sausages, and fruit strips. Forget the toilet paper. Forget the eye make-up remover. My son was starting to scare people. They were peeking around the ends of aisles to look at us.
So, I left, after the check-out girl commented on my son's runny nose, like I didn't know he had one. My son cried all the way home and the minute we walked into the house, it was like none of it ever happened and he was the happiest little bugger you've ever seen.
So, did he win? I don't know. Let's call it a tie.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
And yes, I am talking about Christmas. Call me Mr. Grinch. Call me the Oogie Boogie Man. But, it was just all too much this year. I became so tired of RUSHing around, towing a weary one-year old on my decrepit hip that I had a couple of breakdowns and was sporting a fine, bad attitude.
I never thought I would say this but...burn the tree and pour the eggnog down the toilet. I'm over it.
I've been reading some of your posts and most of you had wonderful Christmas mornings, full of laughs, relaxation, grateful tears and spending the day in your jam jams.
My day started out with dog poop under the bed, a broken dishwasher, and dog pee all over our couch, nicely soaked in to the cushions and down into the springs. Merry Christmas.
Did I mention my son was, and still is, sick?
After cleaning the dog messes and kicking the dishwasher (and my own private temper tantrum in the bathroom where my toothbrush bore the brunt of my holiday angst), we RUSHed out to my mom's house with onions for the breakfast casserole, only to have to RUSH back home two hours later to put our sickly son down for his nap.
After his nap, we had to RUSH through feeding him in order to RUSH to my sister-in-law's house for Christmas dinner. And we barely made it. Atleast this celebration was at night and I could have booze. Which I did.
Besides the rushing, I had my husband, full of festive sarcasm, exclaiming everything that happened that day was a Christmas miracle. "The dog pooped under the bed, but atleast it's already dried and hard! It's a Christmas Miracle!" "The dog peed on the couch, but atleast her stream missed the baby! It's a Christmas Miracle!"
There was just too much RUSHing this year. We have spent a few evenings in a row at my mother's house, which has been great, but this has caused us to have to RUSH home every night to put our son to bed because it ends up being way past his bedtime. And he just keeps getting sicker, probably from lack of sleep.
So, it is done. And I am glad. I'm over the RUSHing. I think from now until the end of the year, I am going to be late everywhere I go. On purpose. Just relax and take my time. Time may march on, but I'm shuffling from here on out. Maybe even walking backwards. Father Time can kiss my ass.
Now, I've got to go practice my post-holiday meditation breathing and buy a new toothbrush.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Anyway, if I blog every day, then that is less time spent with my family in the evenings because I am isolated in the "office". Let's just call it the baby's room. That makes me feel like the room has a purpose besides sending me into Anxiety-ville.
The other problem is that we live in a home built in the 1950's and it has ZERO storage for those things that you don't use but you don't want to get rid of either. Like my husband's concert t-shirts from the eight bazillion U2 concerts he has seen. Or my husband's Star Wars toys from when he was a kid, or his bachelor pad wall art that looked like it should be hanging in a motel that I took down the minute I moved in with him four years ago. Or my college notebooks and textbooks. Or my sad scrapbooking supplies that sit waiting for me to have a free day (don't hold your breath, poor little scrapbooking supplies). Or my Christmas and birthday wrapping supplies. Or boxes of old pictures and board games. You get the picture.
And, once that room does become a bedroom someday, where in the heckaroonie (I've been watching too much Pinky Dinky Doo) are we going to put our computer and all that "important" jazz?
Anyway, I'm not sure how I got off subject. I think I started off subject.
The reason for this post is to say that I am signing off until after Christmas for lack of extra time. I want to spend as much time as possible with my family and friends in the next week and a half. My sister and her husband are coming to town (Yay!) and I've got baking to do, and a Christmas party to attend, and presents to wrap, and cleaning to avoid, and sweets to eat, and hot chocolate to drink, and movies to watch, and I'm busy busy!
I will be reading your posts, though. I'm not going totally cold turkey. Maybe I'll finally be able to catch up on all of my reading. And I'll be back after I eat all the chocolatey sweets I possibly can. And then we will chronicle all the weight I will need to lose. I've already gained five pounds since the beginning of October. Stupid Halloween candy and Thanksgiving brownies and hot chocolate marshmallows and whipped cream, chocolate chip cookies, and ice cream. I might have developed a teensy, weensy addiction to sugar over the last three months. Oops.
I'll write again after Christmas or after the New Year. Not sure which.
Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa, Happy Hanukkah, Happy New Year, and Happy anything else you might celebrate this time of year! Thank you so much to all of you who regularly read and comment on my blog. I am so grateful!
Holy Mackerel! It's almost Christmas!! HO HO HO!
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Last night for dinner, he ate one fish stick and about a tablespoon of potatoes. That's it.
He spits out every vegetable (except potatoes, and really, do those count?), he doesn't eat any fruits except bananas and blueberries (and that is because I hide the blueberries in his oatmeal). He usually won't eat meat unless it comes breaded. Any healthy meats that come breaded? Any animals born breaded? None that I can think of.
How does he have so much energy? Where does it come from? He hardly eats. Isn't food supposed to be fuel for our bodies? Didn't we learn that in like second grade? From Slim Goodbody?
That guy always kind of freaked me out.
Anyway, so how does he have the energy to dig into the dog food thirty times a day, or climb on the dining room chairs, or run from room to room like he's running from a fire, or chase the dogs until they are wimpering for mercy, or dump out the trash cans, or wiggle until he has broken free from his highchair, or push over the humidifiers and dance a jig in the water that is now flowing across the floor?
When is the down time? Do little boys not EVER just wanna chillax with some Sesame Street, feet propped up on some nesting blocks, sippy cup of milk in hand, hand down the front of his tiny pants, remote guarded like the Holy Grail? Aren't they supposed to emulate their fathers? Hasn't he seen my husband watching UFC? The History Channel? Spike TV?
Honestly, I can't eat enough food to keep up with him. I am constantly hungry. This kid amazes me. How a child can thrive on yogurt and applesauce, I'll never understand. But, somehow, he is growing. He is in the 95% for height. How is this possible?
My husband tells me not to worry so much and that he won't just eat grilled cheese sandwiches and scrambled eggs forever. But, I'm his mommy. Hello? Isn't it my job to worry whether or not he is eating enough of the right kinds of foods? Or eating enough period?
How much do your kids eat?
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Now, since I left my site for a week, here is what you missed. Are you biting at the bit to read about this glamorous life? Me too! Whose life are we reading about? I want to read about someone's glamorous life. Because mine is...not.
Here we go.
Monday. I took my son to a new doctor for his 15-month well-child check-up. Now that our son is on government health insurance, we had to go to whatever doctor the state assigned us and leave our current pediatrician. The pediatrician who knows my son's rocky history with vaccines and lets us give him one vaccine at a time. Yippee. My child's health is in the hands of our state government. I'm pumped.
We were assigned to a family practitioner instead of a pediatrician because all the peds in our area have met their charity case quotas. Stupid economy.
I walked into the office, filled out the paperwork, and sat in the waiting room for not 15 minutes, not 30 minutes, not 45 minutes, but an hour and 10 minutes!! With a toddler. Not ideal. Especially since I had to keep my son in his stroller the entire time. He is like a pinball who thinks every room is his personal pinball machine and the more things he touches, the more points he gets, so in public, we have to keep him in his stroller or pay the ultimate price of exhaustion and embarrassment and watching him lick things like the arms of chairs and electrical outlets.
The mother sitting across from me had her 18-mo. old son sitting on her lap. Totally still. Just lookin' around, quiet, clinging to his mother. My son couldn't be more the opposite of that kid.
After an hour, I told the not-so-friendly lady at the front desk that I would have to reschedule. I couldn't wait any longer. My son had already eaten all the snacks I brought, drank all the milk in his sippy cup, played with all the toys in his diaper bag, and I had already sung every song in my repertoire. She told me I was next in line.
So, I waited another 10 minutes and finally went back to the exam room, where we waited another 30 minutes for the doctor (who was nice enough and let us come up with our own vaccination schedule. Whew). Then another 15 for the nurse to show up and give my son his shot.
In order to give him the shot, we had to catch him first. He was busy pinballing from one wall to the other. He started crying before he even got the shot because he was having to be still for two seconds, and as soon as it was over and he could run around again, he stopped crying. Who cares about the shot, Mom? Just let go so I can lick that door stop and dump out that jar of Q-tips!
My son's appt was at 8:30 am. When I got home, it was 11:30 am. And I live down the street from the doctor's office. Longest morning of my life.
Wednesday. Has it already been a month since my hopes and dreams of getting pregnant with our second child were dashed? Oh it has? Well, give me another one of those sticks to pee on! Can't wait! Okay, peeing, waiting the three minutes. Oh! Here are the results! I'm so excited!
"HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU THAT YOUR UTERUS IS A HAS-BEEN AND ENDOMETRIOSIS HAS TAKEN OVER YOUR BODY? NOT PREGNANT! DANG, LADY! YOU'RE PERSISTENT!"
Oh. Fine. You don't have to yell.
Later, watching cartoons with my son and nephew, I was crushed to discover that Blue's Clue's and Little Bill were both about having a baby. Really? Thanks Nick, Jr. Rub it in.
Thursday. My son figured out how to open the baby gate, climb up onto the dining room table and the table behind the couch, all in the same day. I found him standing on the table, swinging his hips to Blue's Clue's, while I was making his lunch. Why, God, why?
Friday. I told my husband about the dream I had the night before where we finally found our son's missing "M" magnet from his magnetic alphabet on the fridge. He said, "Man, we need to get you out of the house more." Then, he commented on all the dishes in the sink after two more straight 8-hr days of me watching our 1-yr old son and my 3-yr old nephew, so I had to whip out the smack down and hit him with the phone book. Or, maybe I just yelled a little and cried. Either way, what's the difference? I made my point.
I did enjoy wrapping presents this week and drinking hot chocolate with marshmallows AND whipped cream, and watching my son be in awe of the Christmas tree, and playing "hit-me-in-the-back-with-a-rubber-ball-and-I'll-pretend-to-be-surprised" with my nephew and son. And all those hours of Batman and talking about Mario and Luigi and Sonic (his three favorite video game heroes) with my nephew. The little things saved me from those big things. And isn't that how we all get through it sometimes? The little things carry us through.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
I am going to leave this post up all week, so you won't hear anything new out of me until next Sunday. I think it is important that this stay up all week long so ALL of my fantabulous readers have a chance to not only find out about an extraordinary first grader named Emma, but how YOU, yes you, can help her.
Emma's mother, Jaime, has two blogs: Revenge of the Book Nerds and The Strength of a Mother and Her Daughter . The second blog is all about her daughter Emma.
Emma was a healthy, normal baby until she suffered an act of child abuse called Shaken Baby Syndrome. She has since suffered through brain surgery; intensive physical, occupational, and speech therapy; a feeding tube; having to wear a helmet, a leg brace, an arm brace, and loss of vision due to brain damage. You can read more here and here about Emma's past, as well as see pictures of this phenomenal cutie pie!
Present day, she is five years older, has cerebral palsy on her left side, is just starting to walk, and is cognitively and speech delayed. She no longer has to wear a helmet because of her last surgery!
Because Emma can't walk well, she needs a way to get exercise. This is where YOU ALL come in! Yay! This will be Emma's Christmas gift.
There is a company that makes bicycles for special needs children. The bikes are fitted to each individual child and then made specifically for that child. These bikes are not covered by insurance and are extremely expensive. It would be amazing for Emma to have her own bicycle so she can play with the other kids outside in the spring and feel like all the other children. Remember how much you loved your first bicycle?
So, here, on Jaime's site, through Paypal, YOU can donate some money for this extraordinary child to receive the best Christmas gift ever! I also have the donation widget at the top of my blog. The money goes directly into an account at Freedom Concepts (the company who makes the bikes).
The bike will cost around $3,700, so every dollar donated will help so much! Please give what you can. If the donations go over the amount for the bike, then the leftover money will go into a fund for other children to receive these special bikes!
I know that sometimes people don't donate because they can't afford to donate a large amount. I have been guilty of this myself. But, even a $1 donation will bring Emma one step closer to this bicycle!
Thank you for taking the time to read this post and Jaime's posts! I don't know Jaime or Emma personally, but I can imagine that this is so exciting for Jaime and I hope that we can all help her buy the best and most beneficial Christmas gift for Emma ever!!
Friday, December 4, 2009
So, this is why yesterday, I was a freaking mess.
I didn't get enough sleep the night before, so that was my first problem.
My second problem was that I got a good dose of what it will be like when we have another kid because I watched my 3-yr old nephew, along with my one-yr old son, two days in a row for eight hours each time. I had to balance their naptimes, feed them at relatively the same time, find games to entertain them both, and control the fighting and whining and fake crying, oh the fake crying, which happened quite frequently.
The house was in complete shambles because who has time to clean when you have two kids needing ALL of your attention at ALL times of the day? Seriously. I'm asking who?
I thought I could atleast pick up the toys during their naps, but my son woke up crying both days and I had to rock him back to sleep. The crying woke up my nephew both days as well, so there I was with no TV break. I mean, cleaning break.
To make matters worse, my son hit me in the face with a board book (he got a little too excited about "jamma jamma jamma jamma PJ!"), so then I had, and still have, a sore nose bridge and two bloody scratches. My husband said it looks like he beats me and I'm totally going to use that to my advantage.
Anyhoo, when my husband got home from work he said it looked like a bomb exploded in our house, so I sat down at the dining room table and cried. He was all, "What's wrong?"
So I said, in between heaves, "The house looks like crap (sniff) and a toy bomb went off in the den (deep breath) and the dishes are out of control and my nose hurts (sniff) and I can't get it all done (heave) and I didn't make anything for dinner and Meeko (our dog) is like having a third kid in the house and he put four scratches in the office door and I can't take it and I will threaten your life if you say anything about the mess on the kitchen counter! Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!"
Then, I had a mimosa and a chocolate milkshake and I felt allllll better.
I should really go to bed.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Yes, he is inside of the hamper. Even his back legs. And he slept there happily ever after. Maybe he is smarter than we think. Nah, I don't think so.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
1. For the greatest opportunity I ever could have been given. The opportunity to be Max's mommy.
2. The movie Planes, Trains and Automobiles. It is set during Thanksgiving and I laugh (and cry) every time I see it...which used to be a lot because I own it. On VHS. But I don't own a VCR anymore. Maybe it will come on tv?
2. Dental flossers because I like to get cozy this time of year and eat popcorn and drink hot chocolate and there is nothing that will ruin my holiday spirit more than popcorn kernels in my teeth. Well, almost nothing.
3. Cousin Eddie from the National Lampoon's Vacation movies. He is one of my favorite movie characters of all time and I start watching National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation around this time every year. On DVD. Thanks goodness I've updated this one from VHS.
6. And last, I am thankful for all the crap I have been through this past year. Sure, it was crap. It is still crap. However, despite all the crap, I feel lucky. Why? Because I am stronger. I am humbler. I am more gracious. I am seasoned. I have expanded. I am less judgmental. I am more forgiving. I am appreciative. I am healing. I have faced some of my deepest fears...unemployment, being uninsured, miscarriage, uncertainty, isolation, debt...and I have come out the other side, no more sure of tomorrow than before, but certainly more equipped to handle whatever it is.
Monday, November 23, 2009
So, last night, I decided to pray for guidance to come to me in my dreams, for God and the angels to guide me on whether or not to have my second endometriosis surgery or wait a few more months and keep trying to get pregnant...guidance for ideas on how I can be a work at home mommy and ease the financial burden on my husband...how to find affordable heath insurance...guidance on how to be peaceful and resilient...how to finally discover my life purpose.
And when I awoke this morning, ready to bask in my new knowledge, ready to interpret God's message from the night before, I lay in bed and thought about my dream.
And realized I don' t think God heard me right.
Because last night I dreamed I was having sex with a Chinese man because I was a polygamist and he was one of my three husbands.
That was the whole dream. That's it.
Unless my purpose is to hook it in the personals on Craig's List or move to Utah and marry into one of those Big Love-type families, then...
I definitely don't think God heard me right.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Anyway, I had a great post all ready for Wednesday about how certain types of people seem to be supernaturally fertile and how the Fertility Gods like to just throw babies at these people. It was complete with pictures of the Duggars and Cousin Eddie from the National Lampoon's Vacation movies and everything. But, my husband thought it was in poor taste and could be construed as offensive, and seeing how I am crazed and delirious from menstrual hormones and disappointed, once again, by something I peed on, I thought perhaps he might be right.
So, instead, I will talk about this. Health insurance. Now, isn't this more interesting?
No, it's not, but it is politically correct.
Health insurance. What a racket.
Okay, that's it.
I promised myself I wasn't going to think about any of my problems today or tomorrow or Sunday. No thinking time given to money woes, or medical bills woes, or we're-getting-screwed-out-of-our-life-savings-in-order-to-afford-health-insurance woes, or endometriosis and baby-makin' woes. It's a no woe weekend. Starting............................................................NOW!
Let's talk about Star Wars again. Goody, goody, gumdrops!
So, my 3-yr old nephew came over again yesterday and the first thing he said was, "I wanna watch Star Wars." I was so proud.
Until the only part he wanted to watch was the scene he calls the "dirty trash water part", where Luke, Han and Leia are trapped in a giant trash compactor. He wanted to see it over and over and over again. I even tried to distract him with the Ewoks in Return of the Jedi (what kid doesn't love Ewoks?), but he wasn't impressed. "Where is the dirty trash water part? I want to see the dirty trash water part!" Damn dirty trash water.
Then, at lunchtime, my son threw up the chicken nugget he was eating along with everything he had for breakfast because he was throwing a tantrum in his highchair. He wanted the apples and peanut butter my nephew was eating, even though my son doesn't like peanut butter and he is much too young for apples. I eventually had to separate them and feed my son in the kitchen and my nephew in the living room so I could get my son to eat something.
I spent their naptimes on the phone with health insurance companies (oh crap, there I go again) and by the time my husband came home from work, the house looked like I had that dang Tazmanian Devil over for coffee again. Stupid Tazmanian Devil.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Friday, November 13, 2009
Okay. I'm good. Had to remind myself to find the humor.
This week has been I-bruised-my-tailbone-and-found-out-I-wasn't-pregnant-again difficult. Because that is exactly what happened.
My husband was out of town for three days this week. A couple of hours after he left town on Monday, I went to look for those second-hand shoes I told you he wanted me to buy for our son. So, basically this is all his fault (I can always find a way....).
I was in the way-overcrowded and too-stuffed used clothing store for about two minutes before I bent down and accidentally rammed the corner of a hard plastic bin into my butt crack, brutally bruising my tailbone. Ouchie.
So, I've been an invalid most of the week, unable to sit down, lay down, bend down, pick up my son, or do anything but stand around and stare at people and things. My poor son wasn't able to understand why I couldn't pick him up or play with him and showed me his general unhappiness by throwing himself on the ground, usually hitting his head on the way down, and crying, to which I could only respond my patting him on the head...if I could reach that far down.
I was lucky to have my fabulous Aunt B and my mom come over to help in the late afternoons for bathtime and dinner time. And when I became brave enough to try to sit, I sat on one of my son's stuffed donut-shaped toys. He has several big, stuffed rings and they all have a different animal's head attached. So, whenever I was sitting on the couch or at the dinner table, I had a stuffed elephant head coming out from between my legs. Awkward.
By Thursday, I was feeling better, able to pick my son up again, although still not able to sit or lay on my back. And, it is about the same today. Yay! I'm improving!
However, last night I took a pregnancy test, hoping this would be the month! After three minutes, I went to the bathroom and looked at the test. It said, "YOU ARE NOT PREGNANT AGAIN, YOUR REPRODUCTIVE SYSTEM IS JANKED AND WHY DO YOU KEEP TORTURING YOURSELF?!!!"
Okay, well, maybe it just said, "Not Pregnant", but I swear that is what I heard. And yes, it talked to me.
All I want for Christmas is to get pregnant without having to have endometriosis surgery again!! Is that too much to ask? It took us thirteen months of trying and a painful surgery before I was able to get pregnant with my first. What did I do in my former life to have such problems getting pregnant? Did I take Jonathan Swift's, A Modest Proposal, a little too literally and eat my kids for dinner? Was I the lying woman in the Bible who told King Solomon to cut her baby in half? What did I do, for Pete's sake (as my mother would say)?!
Anyway, on with the show. I really need to get going on shredding some rotisserie chicken for dinner and washing my mildewed shower curtain. But, who wants to do those things? Okay, okay, I'm going. Sheesh.
Monday, November 9, 2009
By the end of it, this is how we all felt:
Crazed and exhausted and ready to commit homicide.
Now that my husband has started his new job, he works long hours during the week and when he gets home, he does more work on the computer until around 10 pm. So, the weekend is the only time we have to hang.
We decided Sunday would be our day. We were going to take our son to the park, buy our son his first pair of walking-around shoes, spend the gift certificates that my husband got for his birthday and buy him some new work shirts. Yay!
Not so "yay." We never made it to the park, the shoe department in Sears was chaos and my husband decided AFTER WE WERE ALREADY THERE that he would rather us buy our son some second-hand shoes because he will grow out of them soon. The only thing we managed to do was buy my husband some shirts and fight and get on each other's nerves the ENTIRE day.
It was an icky, icky day.
So, I thought, "Hey, I'm gonna wind down, lay in bed and embrace the ole' boob tube to relax and shake off this day."
Now, we all know that Sunday nights are crap nights for late-night tv. My fave, David Letterman, isn't on. None of the talk shows are on. Sunday nights are for infomercials and B-movies. Sometimes, I will watch the Silent Movie Sunday Nights on the classic movie channel. But last night, I thought I would peruse my options.
Let me tell you, if I wasn't already depressed when I got in bed, I definitely was after I turned on the TV. Holy Mackerel! Everything I turned to was either sad or violent or trashy.
Here is a rundown of just some of the scenes I encountered:
BET: a Feed the Children infomercial. This made me cry immediately, seeing the emaciated children crying with flies on their faces. So, I turned.
The History Channel: an animation of someone stabbing someone else and blood pouring out. Click.
ABC Family: someone crying. Click.
Spike: some Law and Orderish show about a rape. Click.
MSNBC: a show about sexual predators. Click.
FOX: someone talking about an abortion procedure. Click
TruTV: a story about a murder. Click.
HLN: Toxic Bachleor Alerts on Showbiz Tonight. I don't need a "news" show to tell me that Bobby Brown and Jon Gosselin are toxic bachelors. Some ladies might, which is depressing in itself. Click.
Nick at Nite: The Nanny with Fran Drescher. Now, tell me that show doesn't depress you?
TVland: Finally, an old episode of Roseanne! Oh crap. It is one of the last ones before the show was cancelled. You know, the ones after they won the lottery and when Dan and Roseanne were separated. Nobody liked those episodes. Click.
The Disney Channel: Billy Ray Cyrus trying to act. Depressing. Click.
Vh1: Tool Academy. I'm depressed that a show like this exists.
The Weather Channel: hurrican coverage
CNBC: a story on greed in the medical community. Again, I don't need a tv show to tell me I am being robbed. The fact that we can't afford health insurance is a good enough indication.
TNT: the scene in the movie King Kong when he gets shot down off the building and plunges to his death. Seriously. I turned to this channel right when he was being murdered. Depressing. Click.
QVC: Christmas fun that I can't afford. Click.
Seriously, if it wasn't for me finding The Andy Griffith Show on CBS, I might have jumped out our bedroom window and gone running into traffic, all the way devouring a snack-size Snickers in one hand and a carton of ice cream in the other.
Even on The Andy Griffith Show, Andy and Helen were sitting in the patrol car having an argument. It seemed to be everywhere around me. So, what did I do?
I marched straight into the office and started my own fight with my husband. So there, TV. I can create drama too.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Since we don't have much money these days, I really struggled about what to get him. He said he didn't want anything, but come on, everybody needs a little somethin' to open on their birthday! At least I think so. And he said he didn't want to do anything for his birthday because he didn't have enough time. He just wanted to stay home with our son and me and work on the computer.
So, I decided to at least make him a hot breakfast, a special dinner, and bake him a cake.
I bought him Joel Osteen's new audio book, "It's Your Time," to listen to in the car while he is traveling. Even though we have concerns about organized religion and don't attend a church, my husband and I both like Joel Osteen's message of positivity. I have a problem with his view on homosexuality (he thinks it "isn't God's best" when I think it is a gift), but all in all, he is a positive preacher and I like that. No gloom and doom. No guilt and fearing God. I don't believe God should be feared.
Anyway, when did this turn into my views on God? Let's move on.
Then, came the cake. As soon as my son went down for his nap, out came the gluten-free cake mix. I was ready, I was excited, I was willing, I was...wait. Where are my cake pans? Oh, that's right. I don't own any cake pans.
I needed to borrow one. All of my neighbors were at work (there are no stay-at-home moms living around me, which makes me sad...I want someone to have tea and coffee with...someone who has kids who can play with my son while we gossip about Patrick Dempsey's hotness and Jon and Kate and vent about our husbands and kids...anyway) except for the sweet retired couple who live next door.
I grabbed my son (who wasn't asleep just yet) and we headed next door. My neighbor graciously let us in, but all she had was a 10x10 cake pan and the recipe called for an 8x8 cake pan. Oh well.
So, my husband ended up with a cake pancake. I had to use a freakin' toothpick to ice the sides. And it was a little dry because I had to guess when to take it out of the oven, so we just loaded the top with ice cream. Ice cream solves everything.
I cooked him Spaghetti Carbonara with roasted plum tomatoes on the side for dinner, neither of which I had ever made...but they turned out yummy! I made a pound of it, thinking we would have some left over, but my husband ate almost all of it, which made me feel creamy and gooey and glad inside.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Patrick Dempsey is in love with me, you know. You know, Patrick Dempsey from "Grey's Anatomy" and "Can't Buy Me Love?" He is obsessed with me, actually.
We met at the video store/steak house where he is a manager on his days off from filming. I walked into the backroom and it was love at first sight. He smiled that Doctor McDreamy smile and we melted into each other. Our romance moved quickly and we became inseparable.
One afternoon, he surprised me and said he wanted me to meet one of his co-workers. His "co-worker" turned out to be his father who he wanted to be there when Patrick asked me to marry him! He had even thought to invite my sister! What a sweetheart!
So, yes, we are engaged now. Such a whirlwind romance! Steak houses, flowers, professions of unending, everlasting love. Who could ask for more? We have no kids, no responsibilities. Just the two of us, looking into each other's eyes for eternity.
Oh, look! There is my ex-boyfriend with his child bride!
Helllooo! Yeah, how are you doing? Good? Oh, great. Well, in case you didn't know, I am engaged to Patrick Dempsey. You know, Patrick Dempsey from "Grey's Anatomy".
(what is that scratching sound?)
It is so nice to meet your teenage bride. Isn't it almost her bedtime? Well, I must run if I am going to meet my fiance at the steak house! You know, Patrick Dempsey from "Grey's Anatomy"? So long!
(why is there a baby crying? where is that sound coming from?)
Oh, Patrick! Patrick! I have arrived at the steak house! Oh, you are more in love with me than yesterday? Oh, stop...you are embarassing me! Yes, I love you too.
Patrick? Where are you going?
Wait! Patrick! Don't go! Let me run my fingers through your thick, luxurious hair!
(scratch, more crying)
Please! Don't leave me!!!!!! Wait!!
The dog is scratching on the door and I can hear our son crying over the monitor. You mean, it wasn't real? It was all a dream? I'm not really engaged to Patrick Dempsey? You mean, I have to get up and feed other people and change diapers and wash dirty dog feet and worry about finances? No more whirlwind romance? No more endless amounts of free time? No more rich fiance? I don't think I can face it.
So, what do I do?
"Honey, can you get up with the baby? I didn't get much sleep last night? Do you mind? Oh, thank you baby."
Ah, back to dream land. Not ready to face reality just yet.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Oh, golly...okay, you can take my picture...shucks
Friday, October 30, 2009
Nanny Dee! Chef Eureka! Mommy Chef! Calling all Mommies! I've got an eating challenge on my hands and it's called a Toddler!
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Random Thoughts Wednesday, which was supposed to be Tuesday, but I had a toddler who barely napped, so what're you gonna do?
Yes, this is my Random Thoughts Tuesday on Wednesday. During my son's almost non-existent nap yesterday, I could have either blogged or showered or mopped or eaten. Since Saturday was the last day I had gotten to shower, the shower won out. In and out, toddler woke up, no drying hair, so hair looked like Gilda Radner's in a Roseanne Roseannadanna skit. But, I will cherish those 45 minutes I had to myself.
So, my first bit of randomness is we tried the pumpkin patch thing again on Sunday with the same result. Screaming toddler. Frazzled parents. Lots of stares from other pumpkin patch pickers.
My husband and I even had a military-like plan this time: at arrival, jump out of car like life depended on it, yank stroller out of car and put toddler in immediately, leave toddler in stroller at all times, dodge other patrons and walk quickly to scarecrows and haystacks where we take pictures with lightening speed, grab a pumpkin and get the hell out.
Everything seemed to be going fine...our son was a little fussy but not bad...until my husband began to stray from the mission. He strayed from the plan. He decided to take our son out of the stroller for his picture with him. "No, No!" I screamed. "It's a mistake! Please, God, Noooooooo!!!"
But, he didn't listen.
The minute our son came out of that stroller, he was never going back in again. He screamed and wiggled to get down, he started crying. Why, hubby? Why?
2. Pass this along to 5 of your favorite bloggers!
I may cheat a little and use more than one word, but I'll try to stick to the rules...
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Our poor pumpkin pickout day was disastrous.
It started with my son going swimming in our toilet.
My husband was apparently letting him roam around unsupervised for a moment this morning while I was at work. And it only takes a moment.
My hubs called me and said when he found our son, he was almost shoulder deep in the toilet, splashing around like our bathroom was a water park.
So, I said, "Make sure you give him a bath."
And he said, "Oh, it's cool. I rinsed him off."
What? You what? So, I said, "No, we poop in that toilet. Therefore, he needs a bath. With soap."
He reluctantly agreed. My husband is one of the those people (or he could be the only one) who believe that "rinsing it off" with water is the same as using soap. Does water have antibacterial properties that I'm not aware of? No? I didn't think so.
After work, we were going to take our son to get a pumpkin. We took him last year to this same pumpkin patch, we took pictures, and wanted to start a tradition. We had a small window of opportunity before his nap. Did we make it? What do you think? Of course not. There was a football game on TV that had to be watched first.
So, by the time we headed out, it was past my son's naptime and he was fussy. A prime example of this fussiness is when we got in the car, he started hitting himself over the head with a pair of maracas. Hard, plastic maracas. Naturally, this hurt so he started to cry. And then he did it again. On purpose.
As we pulled into the parking lot of the pumpkin patch (it's not really a pumpkin patch - it is a bunch of pumpkins on the front lawn of a church - but it is decorated and is actually a pretty cute little faux-patch), he was screaming in the backseat from his self-inflicted maraca beating. Not a good start.
I carried our little fuss-budget over to the pumpkins where he wiggled and jiggled to get down and walk. The problem is that when I put him down, he started darted down the rows of pumpkins like Elmo or DJ Lance Rock was at the other end. It was dangerous! I was afraid he would fall and hit his head on the corners of the pumpkin risers or get stabbed with a pumpkin stem. I mean, he is only 14 months old. The poor boy falls down 89 times a day when he is just walking. Running at his top speed is not recommended. Plus, the patch was packed with all kinds of pumpkin pickers. It was a really busy place!
But, alas, everytime I picked him up, he screamed at the top of his lungs to get back down. People were staring. My husband was getting visibly agitated. I was trying to laugh it off.
After several minutes of fighting, kicking and screaming, my husband said. "Let's just go."
So, I said, "But we are taking pictures and I took a shower today."
So, he said, "We can come back another time."
And I said, "But, I may not get to take a shower on that day and my hair looks good for once."
He said, "We've gotta go."
And I said, "But I'm wearing like my only cute autumn outfit."
But, alas, my child's screaming took over. I picked him up and carried him horizontally, like I might carry a two by four, him thrashing around like a possessed Chucky doll, and we returned to the car.
So, one of my greatest fears is that I will raise a child who throws temper tantrums when he doesn't get his way. And I know it will be my fault because it is always the parent's fault, but I don't know what I would have done to make him that way. Lately, my son has been whining a lot and throwing tantrums.
So, my question to you all is this: Is this just a characteristic of toddlers, or am I inadvertently turning my child into a Nancy (you know, that little snot on Little House on the Prairie? She was such a b*tch!)?
Thursday, October 22, 2009
2) Name one person who made you smile today. My son, Max. We were playing hide and seek under the coffee table.
3) What is your favorite candy bar? Do I have to have just one? I can't. I love Peanut M&M's, Reeses Peanut Butter cups, tootsie rolls, Hershey's kisses, Whatchamacallit (sp?), Snickers, and so many more. Now I'm craving chocolate! Great!
4) What is the last thing you said aloud? "Settle him down and we can talk about it afterwards."
5) What is your favorite ice cream flavor? Anything where the majority of the ingredients is chocolate. Rocky Road is delicious!
6) Ever go camping? Two or three times. I'm not particularly a fan.
7) Are you a cat person or a dog person? I like both, although we only have 2 dogs. Our dog, Meeko, isn't a cat dog.
8) What was the last thing you ate? Veggie Booty.
9) How long have you been blogging? Since February of this year, I think. It feels like I've been doing it forever, but it has only been nine months or so.
10) What or who is your inspiration for your blog? I started this blog to stay sane. I love to write, I love to be creative, and I needed this release to recapture some of my pre-marriage and mommy self. I NEED this. And I need all of you.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
And I received the Best Blog Award from Christine at Christine's Corner! Thank you, Christine, for this award!
Sunday, October 18, 2009
As promised, here are some of the pictures from my Time Out for Theta Mom Thursday last week from the Brandi Carlisle and Amy Ray concert!
The talented Amy Ray from the Indigo Girls
I received this award from One Chic Mommy at The Balancing Act of One Chic Mommy! Thank you so much Alicia! You guys should check out her latest blog entry...it is her "Question of The Week" and it is a good one...it has definitely got me thinking!
I received this award from The Girl with the Flour in Her Hair at Peeling an Orange with a Screwdriver! Thank you so much! I had never seen this award before receiving it. The Girl with the Flour in Her Hair writes with the perfect mixture of heart and hilarious. Please check her out! Read the top right-hand section of her blog and find out why it is called Peeling an Orange with a Screwdriver! I think it is clever!
This award I received from Twenty-Something Momma at Ruminations of a Twenty-Something Momma! Thank you so much, Momma! Twenty-Something Momma is very friendly, too! Her blog has great giveaways, lots of adorable pictures and she is also full of the funny! Check her out!
The Best Blog Award I received from Momma Such at Raising My 4 Sons AND Mrs. Blogalot! Thank you, gals! Momma Such has a great blog full of giveaways and thoughtful insights. Check out her Ochanga giveaway here. I am super-stoked about this giveaway! Mrs. Blogalot is one of my new favorites. She is funny funny and I love the layout of this blog!
And finally, I received the One Lovely Blog Award from Christine at Christine's Corner and Nanny Dee at New England Nanny! Thank you, lovely ladies! Christine's Corner is another one of my new favorites! She is thoughtful, kind-hearted, and chill. Please check her out! And Nanny Dee, well, what mommy doesn't need her? Her blog has great tips for parents of infants, toddlers, and preschoolers. I have looked at her blog many times to find information and creative tips! Very helpful, indeedy!