Friday, May 30, 2008
Getting Comfy
I must say that since I've been doing this blogging thing for, oh, about three months or so, I am finally starting to feel like I have the hang of it. At first I was worried that all I would come up with was crap and that I would receive tons of mean comments like "Learn how to write you moron" or "You suck so bad you should be banned from ever laying your fingers on a keyboard again!" But none of that has happened. In fact it seems apparent that NO ONE is reading my blog right now -which is actually okay with me. Still being invisible gives me more time to hopefully get better and it takes the pressure off of trying to come up with something halfway decent every time I post. Now I know I could be wrong about no one reading my blog - it's very possible that there are a ton of internet "lurkers" ( I think that's what they call themselves) reading this blog just waiting, waiting, waaaaiiiiting for the perfect moment to "delurk". That perfect moment being when I slap up a post that is so brilliant, so interesting, so inthralling, so captivating, just so damn funny that they just have to "delurk" and say - "OMG! Girlfren, I have been reading your blog for some time now and I think you're just the best - cyber hugs!" Yeah, I doubt that will ever happen too and like I said - that's cool. It makes it easier for me to just let it all hang out - to really expose myself - sort of like Janet Jackson but not exactly. Anyway, my long-winded point here being is that I never have been the "sharing" kind of person - esp. with complete strangers. But I am starting to enjoy writing on my blog, if only for myself. If I happen to attract some folks who happen to think I'm not crazy then that's great - if not that's okay too - so far it's been an enjoyable process and I only have bigger plans from here. Happy blogging everyone.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Bad Hair Day
Something crapped in my hair. That's what it looks like anyway. It looks like something crapped in my hair and then I proceeded to style it with a hand blender. It looks like I am wearing a globby, gnarly ball of hair on top of my head. I guess that's what I get for being too lazy to wash it last night, but damn, I was SOOOOO tired I just wanted to go to sleep. Is that too much to ask? Apparently so.
What is even more irritating is that I recently cut my hair because I was tired of my curly, one length, hippy-dippy style. I wanted something shorter and sassier that would make me feel more "hip" and "with it". I've worn my hair short before and it always worked for me so I called up my old hair dresser. I say "old" because he was the guy I used to go to before I had kids and was working full-time. Back then I would drop a HUGE wad of cash for a cut, color, and style and it was worth every penny. I would simply walk into his salon, sit in his magic chair, sip my espresso, and without uttering a word he would transform me. I would walk out of his salon feeling like a Goddess and get gobs of compliments on my fantastic cut and fabulous color from envious co-workers and friends. But, like I said before, that was in my pre-kiddo days -for both of us. Now he has two chillins' of his own and I swear to God - he's lost his edge. He's gone soft or something. I have been back to him twice and each time I've left with a blow-dryed, hair- sprayed helmet head. I call it the PTA mom style. The first time it happened I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Afterall he does have two kids, one being a 4-month-old. I figured he was low on sleep and if that was the case, then I was just lucky he didn't accidently lop off my ear. But I was unhappy with the cut again after the second visit. I hate to do what I now know must be done, I must find another stylist. If I'm going to spend $50 bucks on a hair cut - which is a lot to spend on hair when you have kids - then I HAVE TO, NEED TO, DESERVE TO feel and look like a damn DIVA when I strut my junk out of his door. For just a little while, I don't want to look like a mom. Know what I mean?
What is even more irritating is that I recently cut my hair because I was tired of my curly, one length, hippy-dippy style. I wanted something shorter and sassier that would make me feel more "hip" and "with it". I've worn my hair short before and it always worked for me so I called up my old hair dresser. I say "old" because he was the guy I used to go to before I had kids and was working full-time. Back then I would drop a HUGE wad of cash for a cut, color, and style and it was worth every penny. I would simply walk into his salon, sit in his magic chair, sip my espresso, and without uttering a word he would transform me. I would walk out of his salon feeling like a Goddess and get gobs of compliments on my fantastic cut and fabulous color from envious co-workers and friends. But, like I said before, that was in my pre-kiddo days -for both of us. Now he has two chillins' of his own and I swear to God - he's lost his edge. He's gone soft or something. I have been back to him twice and each time I've left with a blow-dryed, hair- sprayed helmet head. I call it the PTA mom style. The first time it happened I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Afterall he does have two kids, one being a 4-month-old. I figured he was low on sleep and if that was the case, then I was just lucky he didn't accidently lop off my ear. But I was unhappy with the cut again after the second visit. I hate to do what I now know must be done, I must find another stylist. If I'm going to spend $50 bucks on a hair cut - which is a lot to spend on hair when you have kids - then I HAVE TO, NEED TO, DESERVE TO feel and look like a damn DIVA when I strut my junk out of his door. For just a little while, I don't want to look like a mom. Know what I mean?
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Teething pains
Hello everyone! How was your Memorial Day weekend? I really hope yours was great because mine SUCKED. You see, I was stuck in the house since last Thursday with a teething baby - a feverish, miserable, teething baby. At first I wasn't exactly sure what was causing his 103 fever, but I was pretty certain it was an ear infection. If not an ear infection than at least a sore throat -his throat did look red and irritated -but it could have been from all of the SCREAMING he was doing. But a visit to the doctor's ruled out an ear infection, sore throat or any other ailment as a cause of his misery. It was only after I stuck my finger in his mouth and felt the pea-sized lumps - all four of them - where his molars will soon be, was the mystery solved. I think I would feel like shit too if I had four big fat teeth coming in all at once. Needless to say, there hasn't been much sleeping, or smiling, or laughing, going on in our house - at least not by me or Dane. I feel badly for him, I really do. And I feel badly for myself too - he's been such a grouch and soooo clingy, but there's nothing I can do for him short of just loving him and snuggling him and God knows I have been doing that. I haven't even been able to pee with out him hanging off of my pants. Yesterday was the worst day so far - I was almost ready to list him on Ebay - "One very adorable, usually sweet-natured baby for cheap. Buyer beware, he is teething -all four molars coming in at once!" But thankfully it didn't come to that. His fever broke Saturday and he slowly started sleeping more peacefully through the night again. He is still more cranky and demanding than usual - but I can understand why. I just hope this teething business ends soon - it's been a hard 5 days on everyone.
Friday, May 16, 2008
A Little Perspective
You know when you have one hard day after another and you're just tired of all the crap? That's been me lately. I noticed the other day that I was being pretty damn snippy with Kellen - riding his butt over stupid little things like tugging on my clothes or being too loud in the house. In my defense, he's ALWAYS tugging on my clothes, so much so that I feel like every shirt I own has been stretched so much that it now fits me more like a garbage bag than a shirt. And the boy is constantly L.O.U.D. I swear he has only volume setting and his off switch broke a long time ago.
It was at the end of one of these particularly hard days that I decided to take a walk after dinner to sooth my rattled nerves. It was almost dusk and the air was warm and scented with the heavenly fragrance of lilacs- one of my favorite flowers. I decided to stretch my walk out a little longer so I took a back route that ran alongside a cemetary. I hate cemetaries, but you can't beat the quiet there so I turned and walked into the gates. This particular cemetary is actually a very pretty place - very green with lots and lots of flowering trees and shrubs. It's secluded too - set back against a backdrop of woods that borders my neighborhood.
I kept walking and rounded a corner where I noticed an area with lots of flowers, toys, and
stuffed animals adorning the gravesites. I had found the cemetary's "Babyland." It was like I was drawn to the graves. The first one I read was for twin little boys who died March 2007 -just days before my second son was born. The second gravesite was for a little boy who passed away March 18, 2008 - 11 days before his 1st birthday. I started to cry as I walked among the little gravestones looking at the little toys, poems, and stuffed animals that had been lovingly placed on nearly every grave, no doubt by parents and famliy members whose hearts are still broken and empty from the loss of a child. I wanted to know what had happened to them - what totally unfair tragedy took such sweet little souls from this earth? I thought about my two little boys and how sometimes I get so fed up with them and I felt so small and ungrateful. I bet the parents of the little ones whose graves I stood next to would give anything in the world to have their children with them today.
I left the cemetary and walked home, crying the rest of the way. When I walked through the front door, I heard Kellen's voice in his bedroom. It was almost 9 and he should have been asleep by 8:15. Usually I get irritated when he farts around at bedtime, but this time I was actually happy that he was still awake. When I walked into his room he jumped out of bed and yelled "mommy, you're home. I was waiting for you" His voice was the sweetest sound I had heard all day and the weight of his body in my arms was the best feeling in the world.
It was at the end of one of these particularly hard days that I decided to take a walk after dinner to sooth my rattled nerves. It was almost dusk and the air was warm and scented with the heavenly fragrance of lilacs- one of my favorite flowers. I decided to stretch my walk out a little longer so I took a back route that ran alongside a cemetary. I hate cemetaries, but you can't beat the quiet there so I turned and walked into the gates. This particular cemetary is actually a very pretty place - very green with lots and lots of flowering trees and shrubs. It's secluded too - set back against a backdrop of woods that borders my neighborhood.
I kept walking and rounded a corner where I noticed an area with lots of flowers, toys, and
stuffed animals adorning the gravesites. I had found the cemetary's "Babyland." It was like I was drawn to the graves. The first one I read was for twin little boys who died March 2007 -just days before my second son was born. The second gravesite was for a little boy who passed away March 18, 2008 - 11 days before his 1st birthday. I started to cry as I walked among the little gravestones looking at the little toys, poems, and stuffed animals that had been lovingly placed on nearly every grave, no doubt by parents and famliy members whose hearts are still broken and empty from the loss of a child. I wanted to know what had happened to them - what totally unfair tragedy took such sweet little souls from this earth? I thought about my two little boys and how sometimes I get so fed up with them and I felt so small and ungrateful. I bet the parents of the little ones whose graves I stood next to would give anything in the world to have their children with them today.
I left the cemetary and walked home, crying the rest of the way. When I walked through the front door, I heard Kellen's voice in his bedroom. It was almost 9 and he should have been asleep by 8:15. Usually I get irritated when he farts around at bedtime, but this time I was actually happy that he was still awake. When I walked into his room he jumped out of bed and yelled "mommy, you're home. I was waiting for you" His voice was the sweetest sound I had heard all day and the weight of his body in my arms was the best feeling in the world.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
When you have a son......
There's a saying that goes something like this - 'when you have a son, you work from son up to son down'. I can't for the life of me remember where or when I heard it but I couldn't agree more! My "mommy job" is an ass-kicker. My days are long, busy, and very tiring. They are never a stroll through the daisies, they are never a cake walk, they are never a 'sit on the couch and eat bon-bons while my nail polish drys' type of day. For the proof that's in the pudding - just read on. (I swear that all events and happenings depicted in the following account are true, accurate and not at all inflated to make myself look like super mom. I swear.)
My Day -May 7, 2008
7:00 a.m. - Rise and shine
7:15-7:30 - Nurse The Destroyer, change his diaper and get him dressed for the day
7:35 - Wake up Captain Crazy, cattle prod him into bathroom to get dressed
7:40 - Start breakfast (scrambled eggs, fruit, yogurt and cereal) Did I mention my boys eat like mini-truckers?
7:45 - Captain Crazy comes into the kitchen and announces that he's starving and needs his "brekwist" RIGHT NOW!
7:50 - "Brekwist" is served
8:15 - "Brekwist" is over, clean up boys/kitchen
8:30 - Get myself dressed and ready for day while trying to prevent The Destroyer from stuffing t-shirt into toilet
9:00- 10:30 - Playtime with boys in living room.
10:30 - Load boys into double jogger for a quick walk around neighborhood
11:00 - Back home to meet a friend and her son for a play date at our house.
11:30 - Neighbor drops her 2-yr-old son, Calvin, off for the day. I agreed to watch him until 5:00 p.m.(Yes, I was smoking crack at the time)
12:00 - Start making lunch for 1, 2, 3 and 4 yr-old boys.
12:15-12:45 - Enjoy relative silence while boys cram their little cake holes full of PB&J, fruit, and milk.
12:45-1:00 - Lunch clean-up. Potty for big boys
1:00 - Diaper changes for little ones - get them ready for their naps. Please God in heaven, let them take naps! Play date leaves.
1:30 - Put The Destroyer down for nap.
1:35 - Read nap-time story to Calvin, put him down for nap.
1:45 - Go back into The Destroyer's room and stop him from pounding on bedroom wall.
2:00 - Little ones are asleep. Hallelujah!
2:10 - Put DVD on for Captain Crazy's quiet time
2:15 - Go into kitchen to eat MY lunch - a big, fat, hairy bowl of ice cream. So good, but oh so bad!
2:30 -3:00 - Load dishwasher, unload washing machine, unload dryer, load washing machine, load dryer, fold load of laundry
3:00 - 3:45 -Pry Captain Crazy off of couch and go out side. Water plants, pick up dog shit from backyard, play in sandbox with Captain Crazy
3:45 - The Destroyer awake. Change his diaper. Wake up Calvin for snack time.
4:00 - Snack time over. Play until Calvin goes home at 5:00.
5:00 - Hubbie home from work. Thank God!
5:00- 5:20 - fall into bed for quick power nap
5:20 - get up and start dinner while Hubbie plays with boys
6:00 - 6:45 Dinner
6:45 - Family playtime
7:00 - Bath time for boys
7:30 - Bedtime
7:45 - Take a walk - by myself. Yay! Decide to walk to grocery store for milk.
8:30 - Return home with 2 gallons of milk and arms that are 3 inches longer.
8:30 - 9:00 - Make Captain Crazy's lunch for pre-school, fold and put away another load of laundry.
9:15 - Take a shower and get ready for bed - finally
10:00 - Collapse into bed
11:30 - The Destroyer wakes up. Get up to check on him
11:40 - Back in bed
12:38 - The Destroyer is awake, again. Go in and check on him.
1:00 - Back in bed
4:20 - The Destroyer awake, again!!!! Roll over and turn off monitor and go back to sleep
6:00 - Captain Crazy climbs into bed to snuggle.
6:40 - Up for the day.
My Day -May 7, 2008
7:00 a.m. - Rise and shine
7:15-7:30 - Nurse The Destroyer, change his diaper and get him dressed for the day
7:35 - Wake up Captain Crazy, cattle prod him into bathroom to get dressed
7:40 - Start breakfast (scrambled eggs, fruit, yogurt and cereal) Did I mention my boys eat like mini-truckers?
7:45 - Captain Crazy comes into the kitchen and announces that he's starving and needs his "brekwist" RIGHT NOW!
7:50 - "Brekwist" is served
8:15 - "Brekwist" is over, clean up boys/kitchen
8:30 - Get myself dressed and ready for day while trying to prevent The Destroyer from stuffing t-shirt into toilet
9:00- 10:30 - Playtime with boys in living room.
10:30 - Load boys into double jogger for a quick walk around neighborhood
11:00 - Back home to meet a friend and her son for a play date at our house.
11:30 - Neighbor drops her 2-yr-old son, Calvin, off for the day. I agreed to watch him until 5:00 p.m.(Yes, I was smoking crack at the time)
12:00 - Start making lunch for 1, 2, 3 and 4 yr-old boys.
12:15-12:45 - Enjoy relative silence while boys cram their little cake holes full of PB&J, fruit, and milk.
12:45-1:00 - Lunch clean-up. Potty for big boys
1:00 - Diaper changes for little ones - get them ready for their naps. Please God in heaven, let them take naps! Play date leaves.
1:30 - Put The Destroyer down for nap.
1:35 - Read nap-time story to Calvin, put him down for nap.
1:45 - Go back into The Destroyer's room and stop him from pounding on bedroom wall.
2:00 - Little ones are asleep. Hallelujah!
2:10 - Put DVD on for Captain Crazy's quiet time
2:15 - Go into kitchen to eat MY lunch - a big, fat, hairy bowl of ice cream. So good, but oh so bad!
2:30 -3:00 - Load dishwasher, unload washing machine, unload dryer, load washing machine, load dryer, fold load of laundry
3:00 - 3:45 -Pry Captain Crazy off of couch and go out side. Water plants, pick up dog shit from backyard, play in sandbox with Captain Crazy
3:45 - The Destroyer awake. Change his diaper. Wake up Calvin for snack time.
4:00 - Snack time over. Play until Calvin goes home at 5:00.
5:00 - Hubbie home from work. Thank God!
5:00- 5:20 - fall into bed for quick power nap
5:20 - get up and start dinner while Hubbie plays with boys
6:00 - 6:45 Dinner
6:45 - Family playtime
7:00 - Bath time for boys
7:30 - Bedtime
7:45 - Take a walk - by myself. Yay! Decide to walk to grocery store for milk.
8:30 - Return home with 2 gallons of milk and arms that are 3 inches longer.
8:30 - 9:00 - Make Captain Crazy's lunch for pre-school, fold and put away another load of laundry.
9:15 - Take a shower and get ready for bed - finally
10:00 - Collapse into bed
11:30 - The Destroyer wakes up. Get up to check on him
11:40 - Back in bed
12:38 - The Destroyer is awake, again. Go in and check on him.
1:00 - Back in bed
4:20 - The Destroyer awake, again!!!! Roll over and turn off monitor and go back to sleep
6:00 - Captain Crazy climbs into bed to snuggle.
6:40 - Up for the day.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
The Boy with the Golden Tongue
When my oldest son, Kellen, aka 'Captain Crazy' was born I must have kissed him a million times - all before he was even two days old. For the life of me I could not help myself! I just could not pry my lips off of his sweet little face. I also talked to him constantly, telling him that he was my sweet little angel baby and that I loved him with all of my heart and blah, blah, blaaahhh. When he started talking, it was clear to see that all of the affection, both physical and verbal, had sunk in deep. He now tells me all time that I'm his beautiful princess, that he loves me more than anything and that I'm the best mommy in the entire universe and - this one really gets me..... that I'm his hero. And he has to start and end every day with a snuggle session. Now, some of you are thinking, "awwwww" and some of you are thinking "pretty mama's boy", but I'm thinking, "dads, you better lock up your daughters because I've created a heart-melting monster!"
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Out with the Old
So my husband walked into the living room last night as I was vegging out in front of American Idol and announced "we have TOO. MUCH. STUFF!" Really? You think so? That's something that I've known for like well, forever. I can barely walk through our garage without breaking my ankle. And let's not even talk about our closets for Christ's Sake - one is so crammed full that it looks like a solid wall of stuff behind the doors.
But as usual, I'm one step ahead of him in solving this situation. My summer's goal is the rid our beloved dwelling of all of our little dust-collecting gewgaws. For the past two months, I have been mentally tagging said gewgaws for my GRAND GARAGE SALE. And what a sale it's going to be. In fact, if I were attending this garage sale - I'd think I had hit the Mother Load. There's going to be baby/kid clothing, toys and gear up the wazoo, household/garage items, books galore, gardening tools, adult cloths - you name I'll probably be selling it. Since I'm much better at shopping at garage sales than holding them (that's how I acquired aforementioned gewgaws) I could use any tips/advice on how to hold a successful garage sale. Besides the obvious like not selling broken, dirty crap, should I have homemade cookies and freshly squeezed lemonade to sweeten the experience and put shoppers in the "buying mood"? Any tips/advice would be extremely appreciated. And if you're in the area, feel free to stop by - just not before 9 or the price doubles.
But as usual, I'm one step ahead of him in solving this situation. My summer's goal is the rid our beloved dwelling of all of our little dust-collecting gewgaws. For the past two months, I have been mentally tagging said gewgaws for my GRAND GARAGE SALE. And what a sale it's going to be. In fact, if I were attending this garage sale - I'd think I had hit the Mother Load. There's going to be baby/kid clothing, toys and gear up the wazoo, household/garage items, books galore, gardening tools, adult cloths - you name I'll probably be selling it. Since I'm much better at shopping at garage sales than holding them (that's how I acquired aforementioned gewgaws) I could use any tips/advice on how to hold a successful garage sale. Besides the obvious like not selling broken, dirty crap, should I have homemade cookies and freshly squeezed lemonade to sweeten the experience and put shoppers in the "buying mood"? Any tips/advice would be extremely appreciated. And if you're in the area, feel free to stop by - just not before 9 or the price doubles.
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