Friday, February 27, 2009

You feelin' okay? Cause you dont sound so good....

This afternoon I decided to *gasp* turn the TV off and listen to music. I like to listen to a combination of 70's love songs, 80's pop and and 90's hip hop. What can I say?
Anyways. I channeled my inner Barbra and serenaded my son by singing "You Don't Bring Me Flowers". The whole time he had this look on his face like I was licking the wall. After I sang the very last line (of course being "You don't bring me flowers anymore") he says matter of factly, "Of course we do." and walked off.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Collateral Damage

I was ironing a shirt this evening and while I normally wait until my husband is home so he can entertain the 1 year old, I decided to get a head start on the task and do it on my own. This meant I had to find something to hold the babys interest long enough for me to get this done. The things that hold his interest the longest of course are the things he is not allowed to have. I tend to make exceptions in these cases. So while I ironed hastily, my child played merrily with my husbands $100 universal remote.
Unwise? Maybe.
Risky? Undoubtedly.
Worth it? Absolutely.
Ive come to realize that many possessions that were once treated like gold pre-kids, have become sacrificial items used to quell the children and bring about a moments peace.
Vehicles once washed weekly and vacuumed religiously now only see water when it rains. And you don't even think twice about throwing a french fry over your shoulder while navigating traffic with hopes that it will land within the reach of little hands so you dont have to hear that brain seizing shriek for another second. Should you miss your target, that fry will find its way down between the seats and take asylum underneath and probably coexist nicely with a week old sippy cup until one day that cup turns ugly and takes the fry hostage and rolls out from under the seat when you brake too hard and hisses at you.
DVDs and CD's that once were handled delicately are now frisbees, teethers and coasters. I made a cake last week and needed my scraper to get the batter out. Instead of rummaging through my utensil drawer, I went into the living room, found the wooden toy box shaped like a bus and dug through there and produced my scraper.
What. Where do you keep your scraper?
How about the cordless phone that I forgot to keep on the charger? Yeah, its behind the diaper pail in the nursery. That got my dishwasher unloaded. Husbands favorite travel mug? Lets see...where did I see that? Try the toy box in the boys room. But not the lid, I think I saw that next to the sofa. Sorry hon.
But you see that hot meal on the stove? You can thank your coffee mug for taking one for the team.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

I heard they were raised by a pack of wolves.

I had a lunch date today. And come hell or high water, I was going to be there. By high water, I mean the steady rain that has been coming down all day. And by hell, I mean what I had to go through to get out the door.
I had already been dodging the daggers my husband likes to shoot at me when he knows Im leaving him home alone with the kids. (I suspect he thinks I created these little beings all by myself while he was watching football one Sunday .) And then I also had to dodge the big shiny "Puss n Boots" don't leave me, I love you eyes my one year old gives me when he sees me doing things like putting on make up or brushing my hair. You know, the things that set off a child's "abandonment ahead" alarm. I guess he wasn't getting the reaction he had hoped for with the eyes, so he stepped it up a notch and started wailing and following me all over the house with his hands up in the air trying to get picked up. It worked.
So I decided to help my husband out a bit and help him get the kids dressed and out the door so I could finish getting ready in peace. I carried the baby into the nursery and he was already in there with my 4 year old. I opened the dresser and was digging out an outfit for one of the kids, and my husband reaches down into the pile of dirty laundry and grabs the outfit my 4 year old wore yesterday and says "Yesterdays clothes okay?"
I stopped my search, slowly turned around and faced him. I stared at him for a second and tried to choose which one of the many things I wanted to say to him in that very moment that wouldn't scar the kids for life. I settled on "Are you serious? Did you JUST pick up his dirty clothes from off the floor and ask me if its okay to wear them again today?"
He looks at me like he just asked me if I wanted some coffee and is not sure why I am looking at him like that and goes "So. No?"

I had to think for a moment what would happen to my kids if something were to happen to me and they were left in the care of their father. I had visions of them running around in the same outfit for a whole week, food smeared on their faces, hair matted like those dread lock dogs you see in dog shows on Animal Planet, and looking like they just escaped from beyond Thunderdome.

No, my beautiful clueless hairy caveman husband. Its not okay. ;)

Thursday, February 19, 2009


Ive developed an eye twitch. Its been twitching for about 10 minutes now. My son refused to nap today too. Coincidence? Hmmm.
Im also fairly certain that my eye is twitching something in morse code.
... --- ...
.... . .--.. .--.

Blog, interrupted

Claire paced in the foyer nervously. She chewed her bottom lip and wrung her hands over and over. Dan would be home any minute. She would have to tell him. He has to know. Back and forth she circled, every once in a while pausing to peek out of the front window. She stopped pacing long enough to look at a picture on the table. A family portrait. Everyone looked so happy. But it seemed different now. Like a completely different family. Life as they knew it was changed forever. How would Dan react? Would he leave? Would he scream and yell?
Just then she heard Dans keys in the lock of the front door. Her stomach was in knots as she stood there waiting for him to enter. He opened the door, briefcase in one hand, keys in the other. He met eyes with her.
"Hi honey." He gave her a kiss on the cheek, dropped his keys on the table and started down the hallway.
"Dan. We need to talk."
Dan froze where he stood, slowly turned around and put his briefcase down. He studied her face, looking for any sign of what she was about to say.
"Whats the matter Claire?"
"Dan, lets go into the kitchen. I made some tea."
Dan followed Claire into the kitchen, mind racing with all kinds of suspicions. He sat down and watched her pour two cups of tea, add one cube of sugar in each and carry them to the table. She sat down and stared at him for a moment.
"Yes Claire."
"Im not sure how to begin."
"Just tell me Claire."
" Well Dan, we've had a pretty good life haven't we? I mean with the kids and all."
"Yes, we have. I mean, we do. Claire, whats this all about?"
"Well, its little Johnny."
"What about Johnny?" He sat forward in his chair, holding his tea cup as gingerly as he would hold the hand of his precious 4 year old son Johnny.
"Oh Dan. This is so incredibly hard."
"Dammit Claire! Just say it!!!"
Claire burst into tears and said the five words she had hoped she would never have to say.
"He wont take naps anymore!"
Dan sat frozen, eyes welling up with tears that he tried hard to blink back. He looked up at the ceiling, noticed the glob of spaghetti stuck there from lunch with Johnny two days ago. He turned his head to the side and saw the remnants of the digital camera he bought a month ago, that his beautiful son took apart. Who knew there were so many tiny pieces in there?
No more naps. What does this all mean? How will we survive this?
He wiped his tears and grabbed his wifes hand.
He looked at her and lied with all he had.
"We will get through this. I promise you. We will."
"Oh Dan!" She leaned in and kissed his hand. Knowing damn well he was lying through his teeth. But she loved him even more for it.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Got 30 Seconds?

Please take a moment and sign this petition to find a cure for Spinal Muscular Atrophy. Its the number one genetic killer of children under the age of 2.
SMA is an inherited genetic disease that results in loss of nerves in the spinal cord and weakness of the muscles connected with those nerves. An estimated 1 in 40 people carry the gene mutation that causes this disease.
Anyways, if you have a minute, please click on the link and sign the petition. :)

Sunday, February 15, 2009

A Tale About V.D.

Valentines Day that is.
Yesterday was Valentines Day. I used to go to dinner with my husband. We would go out and sit and quietly talk. Have a couple of drinks, eat dinner and then hold hands walking back to the truck. Awww. So sweet.
This year, I did a load of laundry that my one year old had puked all over the night before. Then we went to the laundromat to wash a load of stinky dog bedding . (Is that wrong of me to refuse to wash dirty dog blankets in my own washing machine? Probably so, but please refer to #2 on my list of things that keep me up at night.) After we came home, I bathed the kids, my husband bathed the dog and we ordered Chinese.
Oh how far we've fallen. Or have we? I actually loved our Valentines Day. Just that morning, I was feeding the baby and my husband came down the hallway pushing my 4 year old in front of him. The kid who has no problems yelling for me over and over when I am on the phone, or sitting and farting on me (yes, I know) all of the sudden had become shy and didn't want to approach me. My husband continued to guide him into the family room and up to me, and he bashfully handed me a Valentines Day card and a box of chocolates. It was so cute. Sort of like when you see your puppy poop outside for the first time and not on your favorite rug. All that newspaper whacking finally paying off. It was nice to see my little terror acting like the sweet boy I just know he is. Quiet dinners will only take you so far. Puke and laundry and cards signed by 4 year olds. Now thats the stuff that stays with you.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Things That Keep Me Up at Night.

1. I wonder if Im screwing up my kids.
2. I am afraid that God can read my mind and that no matter how great I live my life, Im doomed to hell anyways because he knows deep down inside Im kind of evil.
3. How the hell a computer virus is created and why anyone would want to intentionally make your computer wig out and reboot continuously.
4. I wonder how much further our society can decline and what point will it bottom out. (and what will that look like? *shudder*)
5. When my kids are old enough to play sports am I going to be able to watch them and actually know whats going on, or are they going to not want me there because Im clueless.
6. Im afraid all the trees in my yard will catch fire and I will have to jump out of my window barefoot and stand in the street looking really bad while my house burns down.
7. Im afraid of telling my children about the dangers of the world and spoiling their innocence.
8. What does it look like when birds "do it"?
9. Why do we smack our hands together at the end of a performance? (really think about that one. The more you do, the weirder it seems.) Clap Clap Clap.....
10. Why someone went into the ocean, pulled out something that looked like a rock, pried it open, saw a nasty ass booger looking thing inside and thought "Im gonna eat this."
11. How come you get fined for picking the state flower but its perfectly legal to shoot and kill the state bird?
12. What was that sound? Is it an intruder?
13. If I get a stun gun, would I be brave enough to use it if it came down to it?
14. I wonder if Nadya Suleman is lying on TV when she acts like she has a plan, and at night she is shitting bricks wondering what the hell she's done and how the hell its all gonna work out.
15.I wonder if my friends who previously only had a suspicion that I was nuts, are now completely convinced.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Fruits & Nuts

My kids have been sick for a week now. Its been fun. Lots of coughing, tossed cookies and snot trails.
I thought my 1 year old was on the upswing last night as his appetite returned and he was very interested in the guacamole I was eating. So I shared it.
And then 30 minutes later he gave it back to me. All down the front of my shirt. I gotta say thats not how I like my guacamole.
Anyways, he was upset after that of course, so after I changed my clothes, I took him into the nursery to change him. He is screaming at this point. I have him stripped down and decided that since I have him there I will go ahead and change his diaper too.
He is laying there, screams have been reduced to severe whimpering, his little eyes are barely even open, tears streaming down his cheeks. He looks really pitiful, the poor guy.
I get his diaper off, and his whimpering tapers off a bit, and with the last bit of strength he can muster, he takes his hand, shaky with fatigue, and slowly reaches down and......grabs his little boy bits!
It doesn't matter how weak he is or how grave his condition is, there is ALWAYS time to take inventory.
Thats probably a more accurate way to determine the severity of baby boys illness. Why bother taking a temperature, or waiting forever for a call back from the on call pediatrician. Just strip him down. Does he grab himself? Yeah? He's gonna be just fine.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Where am I going and why am I in this handbasket?

Conversation with my 4 year old:
"Mom, will you carry me?"
"Will I carry you? Why?"
"Because I don't like to walk."
"I'm sorry. I don't like to walk either. Who's gonna carry me?"
"Mooooooom, pick me up."
"No. You have to walk, thats why God gave you two legs."
"Um.......stop saying bad words about legs."

*hanging head in shame*

Monday, February 2, 2009

Skippy and the Arsonist

I have told my friends all along how I am petrified of having a little girl. I have two rough n tumble boys. Thats what I know. Thats what Im comfortable with. I fool myself into thinking of all the pitfalls I will avoid that one can fall victim to when raising girls, that I forget that I am raising boys and they come with their own heap of troubles.
They get dirty. They put crap in their pockets that destroy entire loads of laundry. They break bones. They bleed. They fight. They ride on the dogs. They climb on things they have no business climbing on. They have a testosterone fueled need to set things on fire. They eat bugs. They eat bugs they have set on fire. They dare other boys to eat bugs they have set on fire.
I never did any of this. In fact I was told I ate nothing but peanut butter as a kid. I played nice and never EVER got into trouble.
Right mom? anyways.
Speaking of my mom, she told me a story about something my brother did when he was around 5 or 6 years old. (which made me about 2 or 3 at the time.) She walked into his room and found him with a book of matches. Horrified but calm, she took the matches from him and sat him down on the bed. She explained to him the dangers of fire and how destructive it can be. She pointed to all of the stuff in his room and told him how they would burn up and he wouldn't have them anymore. The blanket on his bed. All of his toys. Even his precious Elmer Fudd doll. Im pretty sure she drove the point home with the mention of Elmer Fudds fiery demise. What she wasn't paying attention to however was the little girl standing in the doorway listening to the potentially catastrophic tragedies that would unfold should her big brother get the brilliant idea to play with fire. And this little girl did not hear any mention of the most important thing of all. Screw the blankets and toys and Elmer Fudd. Burn baby burn.
My mom turned around and saw me standing there and I looked at her, wide eyed and with what Im sure was a voice dripping with Armageddon level fear, asked her, "Will the peanut butter burn?"
Yes. Yes little girl, the peanut butter will burn and you know why? Because your brother is a BOY.

Im doomed.