Monday, November 26, 2012

Five Years...

So apparently it is today, five years ago today that I was in a rented Jeep that had holes in the canopy driving down (or up) towards North Shore in Oahu to get married.  It was five years ago today that after the beach ceremony and heading back to Waikiki that it started to rain on our Jeep that had holes in the canopy.  Maybe that was a sign then of things to come.  Of course, if I had really been paying attention there were always signs around me even before that day five years ago in Hawaii. 

I'm sitting here this morning with an unexpected day off of work, a very cold November morning with a scarf around my neck (thanks Brandie), a coffee in a special mug made just for me (thanks Jilly), a heater under my desk (thanks Moca) and slippers on my feet (thanks again Jilly), and I know how much I wish this day was not being spent like this.  I mean it's not like my anniversary days were ever spent having tons of sex like a couple of in-lust teenagers skipping school or anything (thanks Brian), but I mean I surely didn't want to spend this day like "this" whatever the fuck "this" is supposed to be. 

I'm also sitting here alternating between pissed off and sad; pissed off that apparently for better or worse doesn't mean shit to a lot of people these days, and then sad because apparently I didn't give a shit about for better or worse at one point in time years ago and that the karma train finally reached me.  Whatever, whatever, I'm not riding down the pity party train or anything, but rather just being realistic.  I'm fucking sad and I'm supposed to own this shit or something like that.

I'm back to being pissed off now because I am wondering when the hell am I going to wake up and NOT have this shit on my mind and just start living my life.  This shit is exhausting and is breaking me and causing me to say, do, think some crazy shit, and I would really, really like to make it stop.  Clearly, as you can see, I don't know how to make it stop.  I'd really just love to wake up and start writing my blog about something not so heavy and find my inner awesome sense of humor again 'cause that's where it's at -- funny.  People like funny.  People come to read funny.  People stay for funny.  People didn't sign up for this mess of words I'm pretty sure about that.

*deep breath* *digging deep*

I'm going to get a move-on with this day and make it my bitch or at least try.  I'm hungry (that's a good sign) so I suppose I'll make some breakfast, do a little side work (thanks transcription) and focus on me and when the kids come home from school do my awesome mommy routine because let's face it, I'm pretty good at that shit when I try.

*cheers friends*

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Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Non-Traditional Thanksgiving Ramblings

I suppose I am sitting here writing this in the hopes that if I put it "out there" I will quell the ever-annoying, bitching, whining voice inside my own head.  I know it's Thanksgiving, and I know I have more than a handful of things to be thankful for.  I really am thankful, but right now, the thought of pulling myself up and out of my bed, dressing in a manner that includes a bra and clean jeans and trying not to bring people down with my ever-annoying, bitching, whining out-loud voice is pretty freakin' exhausting at this juncture.

I can honestly admit that I don't know what my issue is or that I can find the words to accurately explain what I am feeling because this is what it is not -- I am not sad to be considered "single" again.  I am not sad that I answer to myself and only myself (oh and those little darlings of mine from time to time).  I am not sad (too much) that I have a full-time, well-paying job to go to.  I am not sad that I am in charge of me and the kids.  I am not sad that I get the final say overall.  I am most certainly not sad that I have a whole future ahead of what could bes instead of what ifs. 

Perhaps I'm mourning the what could have beens a little bit, but in reflecting upon that, there were more cons than there were pros to my "previous" life.  I suppose that's an underlying issue; that I wish I had been able to change the outcome or that I had the foresight or the instinct to know when things were going to shit.  Of course, however, there is always the flip side; I am meant to go down this path because this is what is meant for me and my family as something is waiting for us somewhere along here.

In re-reading this I am fully aware that I sound like a whining, sniveling little spoiled brat and that some people may be rolling their eyes saying, oh shut it April, because so many others have so much less than you or have it so much worse than you.  In response to any negativity from the public eye I will state that this is my life and this is what I am currently going through and I am the one that has to overcome this obstacle that's in front of me so keep your judging words away from me and focus on your own obstacles.  I am not on anyone else's road and they are not on mine so to each their own troubles and triumphs.

Regardless, I am thankful for many, many things in my life, and I don't take those lightly and/or for granted.  I suppose the most thankful thing I have is my mind; a mind that is able to process this bullshit and come to an understanding (eventually) and make sense out of what is going on with and around me.  It makes it a lot easier to learn, accept and move on from that which is trying to hold you down than it is to try and beat down and "win" against said thing that is trying to hold you down. (I should probably re-read that sentence two or three times to grasp what the hell I was trying to convey.)

If you've stuck with me this far into my ramblings, I thank you.  It just really helps to "put it out there" sometimes and bounce my words off of other people.  I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving, and no matter what your current situation may be, good or bad, that you make it your own and put a wonderful twist on it so that when the day is over you can lay your head down with a smile on your face.

*cheers my friends*

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Thursday, November 15, 2012


It's quite amazing how my emotions right now are on a day-to-day basis.  It's quite unnerving to go to bed at night not knowing how I'm going to feel in the morning.  I don't go to bed saying I'm going to feel like ass tomorrow and cry all day of course, but I have a few seconds of unrest hoping that I wake up stronger tomorrow than I woke up this morning. 

The rollercoaster ride has me riding a high today for which I am grateful for.  I know all this shit takes time, and I am an impatient girl for sure.  I'm trying not to wish for this process to speed up too much because it is in this process that I'm learning a lot about myself.  In order to learn about yourself, you need to take the time, as much time as is needed. 

I thank you friends and family who have reached out after my post yesterday.  I am humbled by your own stories of struggles and your ability to share them with me.  It means so much to me to be thought of and the time you have taken to write to me.  I can't express enough how grateful I am for you.  I am at a point in my world where I will no longer take the little things for granted.  However, the things you may think of as little, I consider big at this point.  An email with a story attached to it or a quick text message or a little "share" of something funny on Facebook to me, all these things, and many more, are big to me.  Your time is important as there is never enough time in our days, and the fact that you would use that time to think of me and send me some love is a big deal to me.

I am now looking forward to making many more memories and taking many more pictures that I can look at and smile and think how grateful I am to have my friends and family nearby.

*cheers my friends*
Confessions of a Truu Mom

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Pictures Speak Volumes

I'm obsessing this morning, and I really need to stop it.  I'm obsessing about all of my pictures I have whether I am in them or not.  I realized awhile ago that most of my pictures are tainted.  They all have some sort of shitty ass memory associated with them.  This one picture in particular hit me hard this morning as I came to realize that this picture is the day that all my summertime bullshit started to go down.  I hate this picture now.  I hate that I hate this picture because I'm damn cute in it, but every time I look at it I'm reminded that this is the day I first heard her name, a name that people actually call me sometimes because I guess it's too damn hard to remember the name April?  This has been a lifetime of being called another name, and I don't expect it to end any time soon.  I'm destined to be reminded of my friend and all the good and bad memories that come with her name for the rest of my days.  I do realize, however, that I am in charge of my feelings, and I know I won't always feel this bad. I know hindsight is a damn tricky bullshit of a thing, but damnit, I thought I was a hell of a lot smarter than I acted for the past six, seven months.

I'm trying to own my sadness, own my actions, own my thoughts, and by owning them I am hoping to be able to let them go sooner rather than later.  I have learned that nothing good comes out of holding onto bad memories or sad memories.  It only hardens you, your soul, and I don't want to be that hard, cold person that I sometimes can be.  I have amazing qualities, and I need to dig deep to remember that I am not as shitty as my past actions.  I am not that hateful, spiteful bitch that I have let come out of me recently. 

These actions and these verbal assaults I have spewed onto people make me sick to my stomach because that is not the person I am.  It's amazing how "love" makes us do the unspeakable.  In the end, that isn't what "love" is supposed to be about, and I deeply regret the words I have used to try to hurt people.  It's amazing how hateful I can turn in a nanosecond.

I know I cannot control the actions of others, but I can control how I let others' actions affect me.  This statement sounds so goddamn easy to put into practice, but it is by far the hardest thing I have had to conquer.  I can admit it defeats me from time to time, especially as of late.  I know that I need to reach out and apologize for the things I have said, but while part of my heart wants to apologize because I hate hurting people, the other part of my heart is guarded because the wounds are still fresh from "the summer antics that were."  I guess I still don't trust myself that I can control how others' actions affect me.  In fact, I know I can't say with certainty that I can let it go right now.  When I apologize people look at that as a sign of weakness, and I can't trust that they won't get in there and try to break me again.

Of course, re-reading that paragraph makes me sound hard, but I'm not as tough as I sound.  I suppose I'm just trying to convince myself I'll be okay.  I mean I know I will be of course, but it's a long process of healing that should have started long before my marriage started ending.  While I wish I had realized that sooner, it will not change the fact that I have no control over my past.  I have to learn to accept that what happened has changed the person I am, and eventually, it will have changed me for the better.  No matter how bad I feel right now, this time around, I will learn about me, things I need to learn to be the person I wanted to be so long ago but never knew how to do it.

*cheers my friends*

Confessions of a Truu Mom

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

The Path Not Yet Taken

I have to tell you first off that I was afraid to sign on here and start talking to you guys because I was afraid of where it would take me.  I'm in a rare mood today, and I'd like to keep it that way.  However, when I logged on I saw that I was here last on October 10th, 2012.  That was only a little over a month ago.  I am both floored and saddened by that revelation.  It doesn't sound like much to anyone but myself because it feels that I have been gone from "here" for a lot longer than a month.  And I guess to be honest, I have been gone from "myself" for a lot longer than that.

I promised my (ex)husband that I would never write about him on my blog, and out of respect for him (and also the fact that he reads this from time to time in what I would like to think of as interest), I won't.  Besides, I'm not into bashing (so please respect my wishes of no man-bashing should you like to leave a comment or five) because that's not what "adults" do, and as much as I don't want to be, I am what most consider an adult.  With that being said, I won't talk about him per se, but I can't help but write about the goings-on in my world as of late -- and by late I mean holy-shit-how-long-this-whole-thing-really-was-I-can't-believe-I-made-it-out-alive type of lately.

I have no direction with this post tonight, but that's mainly because I am so focused on "direction" in my world for my kids' sake that I wouldn't even know where to begin here.  I know I, sadly, have been down this divorce road before, but this time it's different -- dare I say amicable for the most part.  For my dearest of friends who have heard me, been here for me, been my rock, my shoulder to lean on, I know you are rolling your eyes saying yeah, amicable my ass, but in comparison to my last go-around, this is a piece of cake.  And I suppose I should pause here and thank those who have, in fact, been my rock because if it were not for them, I would have succumbed to the despair I wanted to sink into.  I know I had my days, and will have my days, but these girls I love with all my being, I promise to make it all up to them.  I know they will say, oh please, that's what friends do, support each other, but for so many years I feel that I took them for granted.  They have shown me that they never left me and that I always had them to count on.

I didn't know where this first post of my new path was going to take me, and I like where it ended up.  I have so much to share, and I promise I will as I know you all are waiting impatiently for my stories.  I won't let you down.  Tonight though I will dedicate this post to my forever friends; Kathleen, Brandie, Bek -- without you guys I would have been forever lost.  I love the three of you with all my heart.  You are my true friends, and I thank you for saving me in the nick of time.  I owe you, Kathleen, many rounds of Miller Lites and perhaps throw in a chocolate martini with a little psychedelics for good luck.  I owe you, Brandie, many PBRs and crafty hand-made robots with hearts to show that they are as real as my adoration and love for you.  I owe you, Bek, a trip down to NOLA to celebrate your new life that is ahead of you and make some memories to last us till next year instead of 10 as our worlds have been meeting up since we met.

I owe a lot of people my love, and I will get to each and every one of you in some way for I am blessed to have been touched by more people than I thought cared about me.  I'm humbled, and I vow to never take you for granted again.

*cheers my friends*

Confessions of a Truu Mom

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Random Babble about My Pre-teen

So with all the bullshit surrounding my days lately it's been difficult for me to focus on the little things - as you may have noticed in my recent entry.  My days are just like any mom's day, you know, filled with morning school routines, rushing out the door hopefully remembering to tell your kids to brush their teeth and wondering if you, in fact, did the same for yourself.  This morning as I was rushing down the hall to get my shoes on to run Jillian to school in time to miss that damn school bus I always seem to get stuck behind, I saw out of the corner of my eye my pre-teen with her face way close up to the bathroom mirror applying lip gloss, you know, colored lip gloss.  I'll be damned if I missed a beat in getting my shoes on because I refuse to be behind that damn bus this morning; I have too much work to do today for too little money of course. 

We got hastily in the car, and as I miraculously missed the bus by a split second (yeah, that's right girl, I didn't let you out in front of me at the stop sign bus lady) I looked at Jillian and asked her why she put on lip gloss.  She shrugged at me in typical "girl" fashion.  I smiled and asked her if it was because she wanted her lips to be all sparkly and pretty in an exaggerated "fashionista" voice.  She liked that and smiled.  I smiled because I was thinking of yesterday's car conversation where I asked her how Ian was and she got all giddy and proceeded to tell me a story that droned on for about 5 minutes (which felt like 30 minutes to my ears) about something cutsie that Ian did or perhaps didn't really do.  I can't quite remember at this moment because Ian really isn't cute to me, and I was paying attention more to how cute Jillian was with her hands flying all over the place while telling her story, kind of like I do.

So I'm at the point where there is lip gloss already?! Hell, I don't even wear make-up (which is why I'd like to believe I don't look my 38 years of age because I can remember the two handfuls of times I've worn make-up).  Jillian thinks it's funny that when I have bought make-up it's numbered with directions on the back of where to place certain colors.  *shrug*  What the hell do I know except that I'm sure my daughter is going to continue to remind me about my pre-teen and teen years.  I have an advantage over her though; I still remember those days, both shitty and awesome, like they were yesterday.  I will not let on to that fact though so I can keep her on her toes.

I love that kid and am hoping that it stays at colored lip gloss at this point.  I'm almost ready for anything she has to throw my way...I said almost.

*cheers my friends*

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Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Out With the Old...

I cannot put into words the depth of my feelings of the past couple of months and all that has gone on to create such feelings.  I mean, technically, I can, but I wouldn't know where to even start.  All I know is that right at this moment I am at an impasse, and I need to continue to dig deep to take another step, just one more step and eventually it won't be so difficult to continue on the path that apparently has been forced upon me.

I totally, wicked, super hate vague ass blog posts like this one is turning out to be.  I always promise never to read that particular blogger anymore because she just pisses me off with her blatant vagueness, but my friends, I can tell you that you will be in for many, many stories coming out of this mess that my life is currently doling out.  You will thank me, for my inner sarcastic bitch will come out in full force, and once again, you (hopefully) will not feel alone.

Regardless, so my shits all over the freakin' place lately, and I seriously cannot find my way to where I put my mind.  *insert Pixie's tune here that I shall hum for the rest of the evening*   I just put the kids to bed, and my daughter asked me to snuggle with her which I promptly blew off to come downstairs and just be alone for a minute.  That's when I opened the computer and read a fellow mommy blogger who most certainly I was meant to read tonight.  She reminded me of what little things matter and how they make the biggest impact.

I shut off the computer and went upstairs and crawled into bed with my big girl without saying a word.  She rolled over, and while I got wet hair in my face from when she took a shower not too long ago, I got clean head smell mixed with Jillian.  That was the best five minutes I've spent on anything so far this week.  She is my rock, my center, and she helps complete me.  Those five minutes helped remind me why I'm struggling so hard right now; because these little people depend on me to care for them.  I am their mother.  I am so blessed and so lucky to have these two beings.  I don't claim to do the best job.  I only claim to know in my heart I am doing the best I can.

As I was walking down the stairs I heard Jillian call out goodnight to Andrew across the hall, and I smiled when I heard him call goodnight right back to her.  I'm going to be okay in the end because I have them, and they're going to be okay in the end because they have me.  I'm not very religious, but I believe these two gifts were given to me for a reason I don't quite know yet.  They certainly are a couple of very special people, and I will continue to give them nothing but my all because they deserve nothing less and ask for nothing more.

*cheers my friends*

You can also find me at:  Confessions of a Truu Mom

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Looks Like I Picked the Wrong Week to Stop Sniffin' Glue..

Seriously, this week has just about sucked as many donkey balls as you can imagine a week could.  Who had time to write about the first day of school when I was too busy trying to pull my head out of my ass?!  The first week of school will be done in exactly one hour so let's reminisce shall we...

Mama bear decides to go to a concert on Sunday, you know, that day that falls right before Monday, more specifically, the first-day-of-school Monday.  So as you can imagine, I was totally freakin' on my A-game like nobody's business that day.  It was totally like an A minus, totally.  I knew I was going to be doing a lot of running around, but I didn't realize how much of a pain in my ass it really is, but as I've stated many, many times (so as to convince myself this is all worth it) I work at home for a reason and one reason only; to be here for my kids. 

Beginning rant now:  we live .9 miles away from the school which means my kid doesn't qualify for the bus.  We live on a main road with no sidewalks and it's a straight-a-way which means about 50 miles an hour these cars are traveling.  This running around is exhausting the shit out of me so much that I'm actually contemplating letting her walk to and from school.  I don't dare say that out loud just yet.  Let me have a weekend to recover and I'll see how next week goes and decide then if I'm crazy enough or exhausted enough to do it all again and again for a total of 180 days *shudder*  Regardless, Monday, even with a slight hangover, I rocked my socks off.  I didn't cry until Jillian walked into school and only then I didn't sob.  I pathetically whimpered and had snot coming out of my nose just a little bit.  I didn't cry at all when I dropped Andrew off at preschool, and the only reason for that was because HE was crying so I had to play brave face for him.  However, when I walked out of school with my hangover head and the ringing in my ears I was too grateful to go home that I didn't even remember to cry.

So I couldn't tell you at all what the hell has been happening in between Monday and now because I lost my shit completely.  I need my "ducks in a row," and they most certainly have not been in a row.  I don't do change very well.  I just flat out don't do it at all.  I can tell you that I am most certainly happy about having a long weekend already and that next week there are only four school days.  *kisses the ground in happiness*  Now you'll have to go excuse me while I go pick up my Xanax at the pharmacy.  Clearly, it's going to be needed.

*cheers my friends*

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Monday, August 20, 2012

That Time of the Year...again.

Jillian's been gone yet another week to her dad's house.  Well, technically, they were never home because they were off doing X, Y, Z (which reads super extra wicked cool fun ass stuff mommy never does).  She came home today and she wasn't even home long enough to pee before we had to leave to get her "locker assignment" at the middle school.  I'm having the anxiety while she's looking more than ready to get to school.  Hmph, I bet she won't be saying that next week.

We walk into the middle school which apparently is only scary to ME and we find the table for the "Silver Cluster" and lo and behold I see a familiar face and I relax.  This woman, who besides being an elementary school teacher, has a daughter who is friends with Jillian and in the same exact grade.  The first words out of her mouth to me were, "Now let me give you some already been there-done that mommy advice..."  The advice was something so simple I had to stop and try not to cry at what an asshole I felt like; decorating her locker.  I never ever (and this is by no means trying to make my own mom feel guilty) had a decorating the locker moment so I had no clue that this is what you do.  It is?!  Apparently so as now I started noticing other moms helping their daughters with their locker; a mirror here, a magnet dry erase board there, a magnet clip, ooh look, even a goddamn shelf.  A SHELF?! I just shoved my shit in there and hip-closed my locker door before said shit had time to fall out.

In my defense I think I did a good job at hiding the disappointment I was feeling.  I should have known this, maybe or maybe not.  I mean she IS my first so I have nothing to go by, and the one mom I know who has an "older" and has been through this before has fallen off the face of the earth this summer (and I'm trying not to be salty over my jealousy that she's been home for less than two days at a time I swear cause the family has been on vacation virtually all summer), and so she wasn't here to give me the scoop.  Maybe I should have reached out to get scoop?! WTF do I know other than yes, I realize this is just a tiny blip in the otherwise well-known "mommy guilt" that we all have, but I still feel sad.  I think I've missed a lot this summer in the two times that I blinked.  My justification is this:  Jillian won't be 11 forever and we are a family that will have her working as soon as she is able to and so I wanted her to enjoy her summer -- and enjoy it she did.  Hell, we got home at 12:30 from doing the locker assignment and getting back-to-school haircuts and she was gone by 1:30 -- 1:24 to be exact but who is looking at the clock anyways.

I don't know.  I just told my friend yesterday, and I mean this wholeheartedly, I want "this" house to be the house that Jillian and her friends come to because they feel comfortable and I want them to be here so I can keep them "safe."  It's not that I don't trust Jillian's BFF's mom, because I do, but it's not "my" house.  I know what a shitbird I was growing up.  I have no doubt whatsoever that Jillian will try and pull the same shit I did.  The only difference between my growing up and her growing up is that she has a mom who has the opportunity to work at home and keep tabs on her.  As much as I bitch about working from home and the many cons outweighing the pros the last couple of years, I wouldn't go back to the office at this time in Jillian's life for anything.  I believe these next few years are a big milestone and the most difficult time for a teen girl, and even if she doesn't come to me with the issues, at least I'm here to see when she needs me and hopefully just quietly remind her that I'm here for her and always will be.  I hope that she takes me up on the offers when I give them.  I want so much more for her than I had -- you know, every mom's desire.

In true April fashion I went on a tangent.  I'll bring my thoughts back around by saying I'm so grateful I saw Mrs. Bertoncini today and so grateful for her "momtuition" and saving me a little bit of heartbreak that I would have had.  I'm looking forward to decorating her locker with her tomorrow.  Any little bit of extra Jillian time I can grab onto these days and pretend I'm not holding on for dear life, I'll take it because it's going to be gone before I even get the chance to blink twice.

*cheers my friends*

You can also visit me, if you haven't already, at Confessions of a Truu Mom

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Summertime Blues

That's kind of an oxymoron; summertime blues.  I do not really have the blues per se.  In fact, this summer with the kids (as I jinx myself here) hasn't been all that bad overall.  Of course, that could be because the toddler and the pre-teen haven't been interacting that much, and I can count on one hand the number of times I've hung out with said pre-teen.  I can also say that about 85% of those times have been spent in the car bringing her here, there and over that way, but I don't regret it.  I mean she's 11, and this is what summer is supposed to be all about; camp, going over to pool parties, hanging with her girlfriends, giggling over any and all things silly. I do miss her, and tonight she's hanging here because she has a dentist appointment and she hasn't done a damn chore in about two weeks.  Frankly, my house looks like shit because of it.

I also am like 90% of the people "out there" wherein I hate having to work during the summertime and watch those teacher friends or SAHM friends or part-time-working friends head to the beach (which I hate the beach so why am I jealous) or talk about having their friends with kids over all day or insert any activity which you find yourself getting jealous over here.  However, I will try to focus on the positive and that is I work from home.  This allows me more time than it used to when I worked in the office for "fun, cool mom stuff" to do.  Of course, I am basically only doing it with one child as the other one, as stated above, only sees me in the car going from one fun thing to the other fun thing, but hell, I'll take what I can get.

Today it was heading over to Kidz Wurld and letting the toddler run around and jump in the bouncy houses and work up a sweat while I sat in the air conditioning reading a magazine -- that was three months old but I got to "sit and read" for a whole uninterrupted 10 minutes.  It's the small things, you know it is, and well, that's about all I've got for this week planned.  Not very exciting, but a small break in the otherwise hectic work schedule and running pre-teen around is very welcomed around here.

So while I'm sitting here missing on my girl and realizing that half the summer is over and I didn't get to do much of the "fun, cool mom stuff" with her, I'm remembering that a mini-vacation to Cape Cod is coming up which I just know in my heart of hearts I will look back on said-upcoming vacation and realize how frustrating it really was because that's what "vacations with kids" will get you; frustration and much tongue-holding.  It never turns out like my big, white, puffy-cloud dream vacation where everyone is riding the waves with dad while mom reads a book under the big umbrella and we nonchalantly climb the hill to the beach restaurant overlooking the water while the two kids giggle and color while mom and dad leisurely drink a beer while looking at the ocean thinking about how peaceful and relaxing this vacation is and why don't we do this more often.  *snort*  I call bullshit to those who claim their vacations go according to their all mighty plan.

Regardless, I can't wait until I get to that vacation because it means one thing; I'm not working and I'm hanging with my loves, all three of them, the kids and the husband.  This year I'm going to bite my tongue so much it's going to bleed.  I make this vow to you all now.  I also will make a vow to appear in at least one picture this summer as well.  For now, it's back to the drawing board as I can feel my work deadline laying oppressively on my right shoulder.  I hope this summer is treating you all better than summers' past and that you have at least one extra fun memory to balance out the frustrating ones.

*cheers my friends*

You can also visit me at Confessions of a Truu Mom

Thursday, July 5, 2012

My Girl is Gone

As you may or may not know my oldest child has gone to her father's house all week.  They are doing their traditional first week of July mayhem; water parks, amusement parks, the 4th of July parade, the having-no-chores-to-do week.  This, of course, is the week I look forward to and dread all in one.  I know I'll miss her, and it's not so much the missing her part that gets to me since it's been 10 years she's been doing this, but it's the whole feeling of "she's totally never going to want to come home because dad's house has no rules and no toddler messing with her stuff so he's clearly the cooler parent" type thing.

Whatever, I brush it off with jokes of "now who will do my chores" or "at least I won't have to listen to her and her brother fight" and things that hide my sadness.  I've filled my week so far with numerous things that would have been going on regardless of if she was here or not; work, toddler tantrums, house cleaning (or pretending to make it look not like an episode of Hoarders), gym time, you know, what I simply call Life.  Well, while doing my paperwork for work this afternoon the phone rang.  It was my girl, and she was calling to say hi, how are you and I've been doing super cool things with dad that you and I don't do and I don't miss you one bit because this is so awesome not being home.  Okay, okay, so she really didn't say that, but she WAS calling to say hello which was very sweet (although I'm sure she remembered the guilt trip I a little bit meant to lay on her before she left about how she never calls me).  She was also calling me because she needed something from me.  YAY, even on vacation MOM IS NEEDED!!!

While working I saw her pull up in the driveway and she got out of the car in her two pigtail braids, and I tried not to cry, no sniffle, no tear, no sob -- just a catch in my throat.  I hid around the corner and surprised her and grabbed her for a big hug, again, trying not to cry for fear she'd go running from the house never to want to return.  She then proceeded to take off her flip flops and measure up to see if she had grown taller than me in the five days she's been absent.  I can proudly say I STILL have one inch on her although I make no promises to be able to hold onto the title of Taller Than My 11-year-old Daughter much longer. 

She asked to see her brother who is sleeping.  I grabbed the opportunity and told her to come back after her skateboarding lesson tonight when he would be awake and she could see him and hug him and talk to him.  Score one for mommy's quick thinking.  I grabbed another few minutes of big girl time.  It means a lot to me.  I kid about what a pain in the ass she is in her pre-teen way, but I know what an amazing person she is.  I guess sometimes it just takes a little bit of that "absence makes the heart grow fonder" type of shit to pull your head out of your ass -- or at least mine.  It apparently applies to every person you love.  I'm clearly not that heartless of a mother after all as I sit here and wipe away the tears thinking about how much I really do miss her, and I hope that all my rantings don't result in years of therapy for her later on in life.  I am her mother, and I hope one day she will call me her friend as well. 

*cheers my friends*

You can also find me at Confessions of a Truu Mom

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Summertime - A Parent's Test

It's clearly summertime around these parts.  I know this not because of the record temperatures outside, not because of the chirping birds, not because of the many lawnmowers and weed whackers working overtime.  I know it is summertime because I have two children up my ass every second of every day.  Not only do I have two children lodged so far up my ass it hurts to sit down, but add to the mix the asshole attitude of a three-year-old and a total bitch of an 11-year-old.

As if dealing with toddler temper tantrums that suddenly appeared out of nowhere wasn't enough to send me to the nearest padded room with a lock that is on the inside of the room, I am now being tortured by the dramatics that is "the pre-teen."  I can honestly say that I am defeated this morning.  I know in my heart of hearts that the best thing to do is rip her entire day of friends and pool and fun away from her for the 1,402,284 eye roll I've gotten this week or 3,203 foot stomp I've received, but I have to be honest with you and say that if I have to look at her face for one more goddamn second, I'm going to rip it off of her body in a screaming fit of rage.  Yes, that is probably way more dramatic than I should feel, but it is where I stand right now.  I don't want to look at her, hear her, listen to her breathe.  It is that bad.

I'm barely clinging onto sanity with the toddler meltdowns, and I don't know where to turn in regards to this latest turn of events.  I can't take away the goddamn skateboarding lessons because I'll be damned if I'm going to waste the cash I already spent on it.  She is going to her father's house next week for the entire week so you see how in between fits of rage I'm having boughts of sadness of her leaving me for a week, although secretly I know it's going to be an amazingly quiet week no matter how shitty the little one is acting, and if we're being totally honest, I don't want to listen the screams and cries of taking the fun day away from her even if I know it's the "right" thing to do in the long run.  I know that it certainly won't end well if I go down that road today; maybe tomorrow but today would be a very, very bad idea.

I don't know at this point which end is up, and I wish I wasn't such an impatient person, but I am who I am and these kids better learn a little bit faster the art of fear because I can tell you that the nutjob that lives inside my head is not anything that will want to be witness to.

*cheers my friends*

You can also find me at Confessions of a Truu Mom

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Sibling Bickering

My kids are assholes.  Oh, don't gasp at me.  If your kid hasn't been an asshole yet, it won't be long now, and I'll still be here when you want to come and tell me how you get it now.

I know I am not the first and surely not the last mother to want to have their ears ripped off when they hear the first tines of bickering, but for the love-a, why must you start at 8:00 a.m.  I shall remind you all that school is still IN session.  Summer vacation hasn't even started yet.

It started while I was hiding in the shower (you all remember how I told you I hid in the shower right) and I heard the rumblings going on in the living room.  I started to hum to myself to drown out the incessant annoying sounds.  That didn't work naturally as it's like the little assholes just knew I was trying to drown them out and they got increasingly louder with each passing second.  I told myself out loud I will not freak out, I will not freak out.

I am proud to say that I only semi-freaked out.  I get out of the shower and I watch them in action.  The older one who is 11 is suddenly so interested in Matchbox cars and trains and just MUST have them in her hands to play with.  Yeah, suddenly interested my ass because you all know where this is going.  It then proceeds to the whining of the boy who is 3 trying to grab them from her sister's hands yelling, "MINE" which is causing my left eye to twitch.  I fear this is the moment it will twitch for a lifetime.

I do not get, and I won't ever understand why the oldest is antagonizing the youngest.  Honestly, I cannot for the life of me wrap my morning brain around this stupidity.  I've told her hundreds of times that the goal of the day is to not get yourself in trouble.  I mean I'm teetering over here.  On one hand, she's 11 years old and is old enough to know what she is doing and old enough to know to cut that shit out.  On the other hand, I hate that the boy is talking to her like that, screaming and yelling at her because we shouldn't be treating anyone like that, especially the sister.  On the other, other hand what I really want him to do is whack the shit out of her and maybe she'll cut it out.  Oh, gasp away, it'll happen to you too.  That whacking will inevitably happen and I'll have to do the mommy right-thing duty and scold him for that, but I mean come on.

So instead of losing my shit all over the place I simply told the girl that she would not be coming with us to drop the boy off at school.  Instead, she will be taking the bus and how sad for her as this is the boy's last day at school so she'll have to miss it.  I mean what else am I supposed to do other than make sure there are consequences.  Of course, this leaves me pissed off at myself because what am I supposed to do about the boy and his yelling at her, and then I figure screw it.  If she doesn't antagonize him, he won't be yelling at her.  She's old enough to know better.

For now I'm just left singing that lovely song by Dennis Leary. You know the one I'm talking about.  Sing along with me...

*cheers my friends*

Find me at Confessions of a Truu Mom

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

It's Only Tuesday You Say?!

Pet Peeve No. 1:  It is without fail, whenever I have to be somewhere I get stuck behind the car that is taking a Sunday stroll on a Tuesday morning.

Oh silly me, that's not my No. 1 Pet Peeve -- surely, the crying tween on the other end of the phone while stuck driving behind said Sunday-stroller-on-a-Tuesday-morning is the cake topper.  She's crying because she forgot her gym sneakers for the second week in a row.  Last week I told her that I was not going to bring her her sneakers because she's old enough to remember them and just because I work at home that didn't mean I could jump at her every need.  Fine.  I told her no again this morning and hung up the phone with sniffles and tears.

Now I'm pissed off because of the tears.  I'm getting more and more heated because why am *I* feeling guilty when she's perfectly capable of remembering her shit in the morning since she has time to sit around and watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse with the boy child.  I'm feeling pissy because I know this is going to stew and fester in my mind all day; those goddamn tears.  I can't stand it.  I start to think about all the things I do for the boy because he's not capable of doing everything obviously, but then that steamrolls into just another pile of mommy guilt shit.  I have to go bring these sneakers to her because it's going to ruin my entire day and I'm selfish.  I need to not have my entire day ruined from tears, but you can bet your ass I'm going to ream her a new one when I get to the school.

You do realize that I grab the sneakers and get stuck behind another mother-effin Sunday driver.  Apparently he can see the rage on my face because he pulls over and let's me pass him.  I think he knew he was THISCLOSE to losing his life on this Tuesday morning. 

I am happy to report that Jillian will be doing all her chores and then some extra shit that I have no desire to do tonight with no face, no attitude, no talking back.  I also suspect that there will be no more forgetting said sneakers again.  Should there be sneaker forgetting, I am positive that there will be no phone call asking for them. 

Now if the toddler pisses his pants at school today, I can promise you that there will no longer be a blog from me as I will have lost all ability to form a proper thought, let alone put that thought on "paper."

*cheers my friends*

Please visit me at Confessions of a Truu Mom

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Typical Me...

I probably need to be medicated.  Upon further quick thinking let me state that I know I need to be medicated.  Everything is turning me into a sniffling freak, and I'm doing the best I can not to let people see me lest I embarrass my older child or freak my younger child out.  I've lost count of all the times I've gotten teary-eyed this week and all the places where I would hope no one would see me, but I shall do a quick recap of just a couple for you.

1)  The gym parking lot this morning.  Oh for Christ's sakes, the gym parking lot??!! Really??!  Who the hell gets teary eyed that their toddler pissed in the toilet at the public gym??!! *hangs head and raises hand* 

2)  The church rec room yesterday surrounded by tons of other moms who weren't crying when their daughter "bridged" over to the next chapter in Girl Scout life.  Seriously, how come *I* was the only one trying not to sob uncontrollably at this little ceremony?! 

3)  My living room couch when I was reviewing said Girl Scout pictures I took yesterday (realizing that 3/4 of them were blurry, probably because I was wiping snot from my face while taking said pictures) when I came upon the PERFECT picture for a Father's Day present for my daughter's father.  *sigh*  I don't really care much for the man, and I certainly don't have any extra money to spend on his ungrateful ass, but with that being said, I do consider myself to be rather fantastic and will do this for him simply because, let's face it, I'm rather fantastic. 

Anyways, I'm quite fearful for the near and distant future.  I'm sure I'll cry when Andrew goes to pre-school.  I'm sure I'll cry the same exact day 20 minutes later when Jillian is going into 6th grade.  I'm sure I'll cry when/if she doesn't kiss me goodbye on said first day of 6th grade.  I can't even begin to think about school dances and proms and boyfriends.  I'll be a blubbering mess for many more moments, and I promise I will try not to embarrass the kids too much so that they will still want to be seen with me. 

I love those little shits.  They mean the world to me and even on the most horrid of days of being a mommy, I'd redo these years all over again because I know I've missed so much so far no matter how many times I remind myself to slow down.

4)  My office in front of the computer screen -- at least I'm by myself this time.

*cheers my friends*

Find me, share me, like me at Confessions of a Truu Mom

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Teachable Moments

I am a big believer in grabbing the teachable moments in the moment and run with it.  I try not to sound preachy or all-knowing because, as we all know, I have not the slightest idea of what the hell I'm doing most of the time.  I also don't believe in having "sit-down-let's-talk" moments as when my mom would do that to me it never either (a) felt good to start off with and (b) never really ended well.

However, with this being said I do realize that shit happens whenever it happens, and whatever the subject calls for, I will go with it.  One such moment came the other day while driving with my kids in the car; Jillian, 11 and Andrew, 3.  I'll spare you the long, drawn out version of the story, but it involved some swearing at the "boss" (who I assure you was no longer on the phone when I started my swearing and rant session).  I was in disbelief at the way I was just treated/spoken to by this guy whose ass I was saving on this particular day.  I was actually speechless, and in my silence I noticed that neither child had uttered a word.  I guess I had turned into a scary mommy at that moment because my kids never are quiet.

Herein presented my teachable moment about education.  I know that education will take my kids to places I only hope they want to go and that I hope will make them much more successful than I could ever have dreamed for them.  I talked to Jillian about how she needs to remember moments like this when I am unhappy in my job and to use that memory to never want to be like me.  I reinforced how going to school for something you enjoy will make a job never feel like one.  I can't imagine going to work every day feeling like I am not working.  I told her to find and grab and hold onto anything that she's passionate about and turn it into her career.  She's currently into her "cake decorating" phase.  Hell, who am I to say this is a phase.  She could, at this very moment, be doing what I told her to do; grab and hold onto it and run with it. 

She told me that she would love to learn how to turn people's ideas into cakes, etc. which turned into us talking about how much fun it would be to not only make these creations but to own your own place and have people working with you.  She liked this idea and she told me that she would never even think about treating her "people" like I get treated.  Insert the swelling heart moment here.  She heard me, she really heard me. 

I know there will be many more discussions before she goes off to high school and college and into a career, but it is never too early to start those wheels turning in their minds because I know that it is well before high school that the seeds are planted for their future.  My child is a smart child, and I know she will succeed in anything she puts her mind and heart into.  I only hope to open up possibilities and never push her away from her dreams, and I hope she believes me and never feels it's corny when I tell her she can do anything in this world she wants to do as long as she's happy. 

*cheers my friends*

You can also visit me at Confessions of a Truu Mom

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

My Many Hats

I have held three different mommy "positions" in my almost 11 years as a mom; the stay-at-home-mom (for a too-short 9 months), a full-time office working mom and currently, I am a work-at-home mom.  I work out of necessity, and I assure you that those out-of-home working moms are thinking that the scenario of a WAHM goes a little something like this; wake up to the sounds of the birds chirping on a beautiful sunny morning, slip soundlessly into the kitchen and make a fresh pot of coffee, take a few sips, breathe in the air, go lovingly wake up the children and send them off on the bus while you don your fuzzy bunny slippers, sip some more coffee and work peacefully for the next X amount of hours.  Please girls this is yet another misconception that the world of movies and books have given all of us.  Don't get me wrong at all; I love working from home most of the time.  There are the perks such as the most obvious, being home for your children and watching over them like hawks to make sure they stay on the straight-and-narrow (whatever version of that yours may be) and not having to get dressed (and in my case, not putting on a bra) and making your own schedule and blah-blah-blah.  There are the cons for sure; no paid sick days, no vacation days, no 401(k), making sure you pay your taxes, and I could go on.  Seriously, I'll stay at home then deal with office snarkiness any day.

However, I do invite you into my world for a second of how this particular day has since started.  It is 4:00 a.m. and I am having a bought of insomnia.  Okay, another perk of the WAHM, I can go downstairs and work while the house is asleep.  I slip quietly down the stairs so as not to wake the house until I misjudge the last step and go slamming myself against the wall in an attempt to not twist my ankle.  I pause, hold my breath, listen -- I've dodge a bullet.  No one woke up so I head to my office where I start up my lap top and get my gear going when I realize oh what the hell, I need tech support.  Did I happen to mention it's 4:00 a.m. and you know there is no tech support at 4:00 a.m.  It is what it is and I fart around the internet for an hour before I drag myself back upstairs where I don't promptly fall back to sleep because now I'm thinking about having to deal with tech support and how irritating those people are.  I suppose I fall back to sleep around 6:00 and when the alarm goes off I feel worse than if I had just stayed awake. 

It's time to get those kids up, and I can assure you that I do not sit on the edge of the bed and lovingly caress the hair out of my daughter's face.  I shake her and tell her we're late.  I'm surprised I don't get greeted with a grunt this morning.  Maybe this day won't be so bad after all.  It's 7:15 and I have the kids in the car and on the way to drop the big girl off at school when I feel my eyes crossing and I start to wonder how I'm going to make it through everything else I have to do today, and then a thought pops into my head.  I'm pretty lucky I think as I could be having to do all of this and get to work on time.  I'm suddenly feeling bad for all these cars on the road as most of them must be heading into work on this rainy day.  I'm jarred out of my thoughts to my oldest belting out words to a song I know from spin class and I start singing along; "So here's my number, call me maybe..."  I look in the other cars and I see no one bee-bopping to their own little pop number at 7:30 in the morning. 

I'm rejuvenated and know that I'll at least make it through the tech support nightmare.  In fact, I'm positive I'll make it through my entire day, with a countless number of coffee breaks and hopefully not many meltdowns (by me, not the toddler).  In the end, it doesn't matter what we do to pay the bills because all that counts is that we are doing the best we can with the cards we have been dealt.  I do not believe one has a "better" or "easier" job than the other.  We all have the same thankless, non-paying job and we do what we have to do to make our children's lives that much better than our own childhood because, after all, we are all striving for the same thing; the smiles of our children.

*cheers friends*

Visit me at Confessions of a Truu Mom on Facebook

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

My Daughter, My Teacher

I've been having a poor me week this week.  Nothing looks good on me, nothing really fits like I want it to regardless of how much gym time I put in.  I'm self-conscious about my appearance.  I'm feeling overly shy lately talking to people.  I'm awfully intimidated by some gym bitches, and I don't know why because they truly are bitches and most assuredly shouldn't be.  I don't know what it is, but I can say emphatically that I am not happy in my own skin lately.  This makes me sad, but I figure I'll "snap out of it" soon -- I hope.

So with this being said I have noticed that my 10-year-old, almost 11-year-old (gasp) daughter is the exact opposite of me lately.  She unabashedly belts out tunes in the car with the windows rolled down while waving to people smiling and singing.  When I ask her what she's doing she tells me that she is just seeing how many cranky or not cranky people there are on the road.  This causes me to chuckle as I think everyone on the road is cranky, but I'll be damned if she doesn't get at least three-quarters of the people to wave back at her.  She also got "dared" by her friend at school to wear her lop-sided ponytails out for the rest of the day and that day we just happened to go out to supper.  She proudly wore those ponytails and I loved her extra in that moment for not caring what people thought.  I would like to put a disclaimer here that I am never embarrassed by my children and actually was jealous that I couldn't wear my hair like that without feeling like a fool.  The other thing she has been doing lately is putting on her best hip hop dance moves in the house and begs me to film her.  I oblige because, after all, she's freakin' awesome and can totally bust a move 100% better than me.  Again, something I'm jealous of.

So as I look at her in adoration and smile at the innocence, I can't help but feel a twinge of sadness in the fact that this may come to an end soon.  I hope it doesn't.  I hope she embraces herself for all that she is and makes no apologies to anybody for being true to herself.  She is amazing in every possible way, and I just need to learn to embrace myself and love me just as much as she does.

*cheers my friends*

You can always find me by visiting Truu Mom FB

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

New Baby, New Baby Smell

My baby niece was born the other day after quite the ordeal, and my sister came out of it a bit ruffled but completely transformed into a mom.  I am so happy for her and my brother-in-law for I know they are going to make wonderful, loving parents.  I couldn't get to the hospital fast enough to see her, and I'll be honest and say I was a bit salty that just about everyone had gotten their hands on that tiny baby before me, but as soon as I got her in my hands, I snuffled her up just like one of my own.  Of course, none of my children were this tiny when they were born.

And so began the instinctive bum patting and the swaying from side to side that I missed so much.  Then came the obsessive baby smelling and baby talking and more baby smelling and more talking silly and taking pictures and showing her off (although I have no idea who I was showing the pictures off to since everyone had already seen her).  Yes, I digress as usual.  I realized I was ignoring my sister, and when I looked at her I could tell she couldn't have cared less.  The poor thing was exhausted and my heart went out to her.  I also thought to myself that I did not envy this girl at all.  I thought about my own first couple of weeks with my son and how I could barely form complete sentences, let alone put two feet in front of the other.  I thought about how I made countless trips from my bed to the crib in the middle of the night and how I did, in fact, nod off on my feet quite literally a couple of times before I realized, in my sleep-deprived haze, that it would be best if I just sat down in the rocking chair.  I thought about the tears I shed when I couldn't figure out what the cries meant or if he was getting enough to eat. 

The list goes on and on of all the things belonging to a new mom that I could share, but I won't because I really don't want to scare her if she reads this, and I know that since there is no handbook to guide us and we just go on maternal instinct, that my sister will be fine.  She is more than capable of handling this journey, and on the days she thinks she's doing it all wrong, I know that there will be those moments for her that tell her she's doing it all right.  She's so got this.  Hell, if I haven't screwed my kids up too bad so far, she's got this in the bag.

*cheers Auntie Jess*

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Smiles My Daughter Gives Me

So Jillian left me this week to go camping with her friend, and when I say camping, I mean give me a break because I don't consider being in an RV at a campground which is more like a resort camping, but that's probably just because I'm jealous as hell.  I mean why wouldn't I be jealous in all honesty?  The girl gets away from me and my loud mouth barking orders at her.  She gets away from her brother, and while she adores him, I mean he's two-and-a-half, so come on, no explanation needed there.  She gets away from chores and a specific bedtime, and most importantly, she gets to go giggle incessantly for hours on end with her girlfriend.  This is the part I am most jealous of if I'm being honest.

Sure, there are the belly laughs I have with my friends when I'm lucky enough to find time to hang with one, but nothing compares to that giggling with your bestie about those inside jokes that you share.  I remember my 8th grade bestie and how we rode our bikes all over town during the summer and all those sleepovers we had and all those late nights giggling about all those things teenagers giggle about and bugging my mom to let me go to camp with her one time and the list goes on and on. 

Of course, this is not to say that I don't appreciate my adult friendships no matter how much they ebb and flow because the ones I share belly laughs with totally get me and I appreciate them immensely.  They are the ones I call to when I need to run away from my mommy-world for a couple of hours just to only end up bitching about my mommy-world over beers or wine or margaritas (depending upon which friend I'm with at the time).  These are the few precious moments that keep me hanging onto my sanity ever so tightly.

So as I sit here waiting for Jillian to get home from her adventure I am smiling knowing that this is one of the many memories she's made for herself and that I allowed her to make for herself.  Dare I admit that I have, indeed, missed the pouty face of hers and her stompy feet, but I feel like I pulled out my A+ mommy card by letting her go.  I just consider this time and the many more to follow as my trial runs for when she leaves me for good, leaves this house for good and makes a life of her own beyond me.  I know for a fact that these trial runs will do me no good when that inevitable moment arrives that she doesn't *need* me anymore, but I hope for her sake that I do then what I struggle to do now, let her go.

In the meantime, where the hell is she because I need someone to take out the recycling and sweep the floor.  I'm exhausted from doing all her chores this week.  Besides, I really miss those hugs and I need one right about now.

*cheers my friends*

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Much-Needed Pep Talk

So I've received a not-so-subtle hint from my mother that she wants to read more stuff from me.  So you all can blame her for this one as I can already tell that I don't have much to offer in the way of humor this morning, but who knows as I've been known to surprise myself sometimes.

I'm not really feeling *it* this week.  I'm feeling pretty invisible lately; friends, husband, kids (well, kids I guess are a given), just a general invisibility that comes with being a mom working from home I suppose.  Hell if I know,  as I'm probably just making shit up in my head to justify my mental nature.  Everything is just an annoyance to me and this annoys me.  So maybe if I stop and think about the things that have made me smile this week it will help shed this invisibility cloak that I apparently have acquired that I never really wanted to have (even though every time I watch Harry Potter I am jealous that it exists -- at least in a fantasy world).  Per usual, I digress and so in no particular order here are the things that made me smile this week:

1.  Driving in the car with Jillian and singing and dancing in our seats to pop radio (thank you Gail and your spin class music). 

2.  Having Andrew sit on my lap while he looked at pictures on my phone over and over and over again and laughed at himself and his sister (he didn't realize that my ploy worked -- use the phone to get snuggles out of him).

3.  Watching Andrew and Jillian play Just Dance 3 on the Kinect.  That alone will get a smile out of the crankiest, PMS-filled, annoyed mother.

4.  The highlight of the week was meeting a talented, funny, beautiful woman, Jill Smokler.  She has written a book, "Confessions of a Scary Mommy," and you can find her at Scary Mommy to see exactly why this would be a highlight of my week.  She won't let you down.  She never has let me down, and she is always there when I am in need of a confession or two to make (but I'll never tell you what mine are).

5.  Today I will be taking Andrew to Jillian's school for a book lunch.  Basically, you bring lunch and a blanket and sit out on the front lawn of the school while all the kids ignore their parents and play with each other.  Yes, my *perfect* daughter will be ignoring me, but what makes me smile is that she will be showing off her brother. 

6.  My mom called me and checked in on me this week, and even though I felt like I had nothing to say, which I didn't, at least she didn't forget about me.

7.  My oldest and dearest friend, Bek, checked in on me too this week.  This makes me both sad and happy because *I* should be the one checking in on her due to certain circumstances lately, but it made me happy because in all that she has going on in her world, she took the time for me.  I need to remember this and pay it forward.

8.  Watching Andrew dance the "Hot Dog Dance."  If you know what I'm talking about, you see why this makes me smile.  If you don't know what I'm talking about, it's okay because it is one hell of an annoying song.

So, it's kind of a short list, but I will try not to dwell on that because I'm sure that list, while shorter than some, is probably longer than most.  I will count myself blessed and move on.  I don't know if writing this made me feel any better, but it sure did make me sound whiny.  I hate whiny.  I want to rip by ears of my head when I listen to Jillian whine so I can only imagine that you just might want to rip your eyes off your face reading this.  That gruesome thought makes me smile.  I apologize for that (not really) ... you guys get me and I appreciate it much.

Now, big girl panties up in 3 ... 2 ... 1. 

*cheers my friends* 

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Middle School Anxiety for ME!

So I went to middle school orientation last night, and I learned two things; that (1) I apparently need new glasses because the screen was blurry from the back row of the auditorium and (2) I should start on a daily regimen of Xanax now.

I mean it all started out fine with the principal talking about how wonderful the school was and how he felt like his job wasn't a job at all (to which I cry bullshit because you're the principal of 6th, 7th and 8th graders) and sunshine and roses, and oh good, I already can tell I'm going to like this school.  Then after he starts talking we go to the assistant principal who starts talking about how this school is a "high-achieving" school, and I'm all like oh yeah, my daughter's college resume is going to look wonderful with painted roses around the word "high-achieving" school.  I settle in for a good listen, as good as I can settle into this hard ass wood chair that barely fits my adult-sized ass.

Suddenly, and out of nowhere, I'm slammed straight up in the face with acronyms for which I can't remember what the fuck they stand for now because I'm trying to take notes on my iPhone because fuck me if I'll remember all this shit in five minutes.  So we move past the acronyms, for which I will find out later the meanings, to the math, the dreaded math, and how the entire school-based curriculum is being overhauled, and oh would you look at that, it's going to take effect right when your gloriously barely-hanging-onto-math child will be entering the 6th grade.  I sit up straight feeling my heart in my throat and get all teary eyed.  What the hell am I getting myself into because as the world of homework sits right now in 5th grade, I don't do a damn thing with her, not because I don't want to (well, that) but because I don't have to.  She's totally got her act together.  I check in with her teacher when need be.  She's got a grasp on her math now.  She turns her stuff in on time.  She's excelling in everything (except math), and I'm a happy camper. Apparently, this is all coming to a screeching halt next year as the math teacher who is speaking up at the podium is speaking in a tone that clearly expresses her own stress.

I sit up straight in my hard-as-brick chair and look around at the other parents' faces.  Clearly, from the way I see it, I am the only one concerned about anything middle-school-related.  What is wrong with me I think as I look around at all the tarts texting on their phones and the husbands of said tarts are yawning in their seats.  I start sweating and panting (or at least I feel that I am), and thankfully, these teachers start talking about the amount of time these wonderful and rainbow-hugging teachers put into tutoring before school, after school and even have classes during the daytime for tutoring.  I start to relax a little more when they tell me that they have this new (for me it's new) system at this grade level where every parent has a code and access to the child's grade and homework daily.  Ooh yeah, I got this I say, and then I remember how the fuck am I going to remember to check the goddamn program every day when I more often than not forget to change a diaper until I smell shit.

*breathe in, breathe out*  I leave befuddled and fumble for the keys to my car as if I had been drinking for the last hour-and-a-half only to be greeted at the door to an excited almost-6th grader asking all sorts of questions and has all sorts of giddy smiles on her face.  I look at her like I do about 90% of the time and say, "Jilly, you're gonna love the crap out of this school," and I go grab a wine glass and shakily pour myself some wine and write myself a note to call the doctor tomorrow for that prescription of Xanax that I am going to need pretty soon.

*cheers my friends*

Friday, March 30, 2012

My Dusty Cape and Me

So this week has been a less than stellar week involving all things me.  I will always be the first to admit defeat so it's okay.  I can take the blame when shit goes awry because I wasn't on my A-game (if ever I really am on it), and so I will admit now that I've just let everything fall to the wayside.  Everything from barely giving an effort at the gym, if I make it to the gym at all, not caring what goes in my mouth for food let alone keeping track of what I'm eating, to serving leftovers to the family on more than three occasions, and let us not forget how long it took me from the time I smelled that shitty diaper to the time I actually decided that if I don't change the boy, his ass will surely turn into a fireball.  There's tons of things I didn't mention, but I'm sure you get the idea by now.

So this morning starts out a little different so I take advantage of the extra 30 minutes I have and sleep in.  I didn't feel guilty that I could have used that time more wisely, for this 30 minutes was indeed used quite effectively.  Rockstar has school today *squeee* and my favorite spin class is today.  I am going to rock this day I say.  It's Friday, and I figure better late than never.  While I'm getting dressed, and surprisingly able to get into my gym pants, which I was certain were not going to fit after the past few days, I heard Jillian and Andrew in the living room.  I had asked her to help him get on his sneakers, and while she was doing that I heard her say, "Doodle, doodle, doo -- doodle, doodle, doo."  I stopped dead in my tracks and just listened to him giggling at her little sing song.  My eyes teared up listening to her because this is exactly what my late grandmother, lovingly referred to as G, used to do to the babies when she was playing with them.  In that moment I realized that this was my sign that G was hanging around here letting me know she was watching us and saying hello.

So I stood up, smiled, said a silent thank you, I miss you and just what I needed at that moment to my G, and I dug out a very dusty, but thankfully still available cape that allows me to be, usually, supermom -- of course.  I figured this time I would use it to be super me.  I know that's so wicked super corny, and no, I don't literally have a cape.  I was just basically "pulling up my big girl panties," and getting this show on the road.  I dropped the kids off at their schools, I turned the radio up nice and loud on the way to the gym, I kicked that stair climber's ass and I hopped on that bike ready to ride and ride it I did -- so much that I have an aching in my ass, but that's okay.  That's what I was looking for.

So, now, I best be finishing up my lunch, which by the way, since I'm keeping track (for today at least) is homemade chicken soup and homemade little pizza (and who cares if there's extra cheese -- at least I am keeping track of it) and before this burst of energy leaves me or that G feels her job is done and moves onto the next family member to lift up, I better get a move on and put a huge dent into my work projects.  I want to enjoy my weekend with my kids, meet up with some new friends and keep on being this spot-on girl that I am today.  Of course, I'm realistic and know that I will have something to bitch about before the day's end, but I'll ride on this high for the moment because that's all I have -- this moment.

*cheers my friends*

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Dear Today:

I was just hoping that you and I could be friends, but I see now that you are just an evil little son of a bitch.

The positives of today are as follows:  said puking girl child woke up this morning as if she had never had her face in the toilet bowl and wanted to go to school; rockstar has play school today - enough said with that. 

So I realize that today is the last day I have to go pee in a cup for a drug test for a job that I have been told that I have (pending said drug test of course), but since I am sure I haven't smoked any pot or stuffed an eight-ball up my nose recently, I'm going to pass and start the job.  I figure I'll take girl child to school and drop rockstar off at his school and then make the 25 minute trek to the pee place.  How hard can this be, right?!

While driving girl child to school she informs me that it's pizza party day, and my mind goes quickly to last night's puking episode.  I tell her not to eat too much to which I get a quick reply of I won't to which I know that she will stuff her face full of pie (just as I would).  She gets out of the car and waves and blows kisses to me excited about her pizza party escapade.  I then bring rockstar to his play school which is at the high school.  *sigh*  Oh, the sights and sounds of teenagers bustling through the hallways; the too short skirts, the UGG boots with said too short skirts -- and while trying not to sound old, I just don't get that trend of a cold ass and legs but snuggly feet and ankles -- and let's not forget the F bombs being dropped around my toddler's ears.  Yeah, yeah, *MY* F bombs are much different than hallway echoing F bombs so don't even go there with me.  Rockstar heads straight for the sand table without so much as a kiss and I am off to my episode, and do you really think it didn't turn into some type of episode?

I decide as I'm driving that I suddenly have pee anxiety.  How do *I* have pee anxiety when I am constantly heading to the bathroom, I don't go to any playground that doesn't have a bathroom type thing, and my husband hates taking long drives with me for I will inevitably end up squatting behind a tree on the side of the highway or hovering over a random McDonald's toilet.  I digress, I now realize I have pee anxiety, and so I know that a coffee will most certainly help my situation.  While I'm in the convenience store I figure, hell, I didn't win the Mega Millions last night so I'll buy a ticket and some tic tacs for my bangin' coffee breath I'm sure to have in a few minutes.  Excuse me, but since when do I have to purchase a lottery ticket with cash only?!  I only have my debit card.  Insert sinking heart feeling here because I cannot purchase said lottery ticket that was printed out, and with my luck, I just know in my heart of hearts that THAT is the mother fuckin' winning ticket.  I just know it.  If I see that convenience store come up this weekend as the store that sold the winning ticket, I suggest you look for me on the news for I will have headed straight for the nearest bridge.  Okay, that's a bit dramatic, but I can't imagine the intense therapy I will need to get past this.  Regardless, I leave with my coffee, tic tacs and a pouty face.

I get on the road still downtrodden about this damn ticket that I just know is the winning ticket when I am grateful that said coffee is lukewarm so I can swill it down like a well-made margarita only that now I'm sad that this is not a well-made margarita.  I digress, yet again.  I'm on the highway when I am blinded by this bright yellow sign from [insert law firm I used to work for name here] and I almost go careening into the guardrail.  What a dick I think because that bastard couldn't pay me shit but can dole out hundreds, perhaps thousands, for a bright yellow ugly ass billboard, but then I think what a tricky smart move because how many people are going to get blinded like I was by such ugliness and crash into each other and lo and behold, there is that 800 number screaming at you to call now.  Hmm, well played dick lawyer, well played.

Now I realize my exit is coming up and I don't feel the need to pee yet.  How in the hell can this be happening?! I also realize that I am heading towards the state prison and oh dear lord am I going to be taking a piss test with a bunch of parolees.  Somebody save me.  I finally find the place, walk in and realize I'm all alone.  Oh good, let's just get this over with.  Some smiley girl from behind the window tells me to come back and do this and do that, and here's the cup and pee to this line and then we'll have you sign X, Y, Z and you can be on your way.  Oh good, I say, let's just hope I can give you the best pee of my life.  Whose phone rings while they're peeing in a cup the size of a Dixie cup?! *sigh*  Fast forward to I guess I don't know why I had pee anxiety because here, here, take this cup and let me get the hell out of here.

Sign this, sign that, give me this, take that, here's your ID, good luck, and I'm free.  For heaven's sakes get me out of here and back to my little hovel of an office before I have to go pick rockstar up from play school.  I'm driving home thinking about how it's all downhill from here because I have a lot of work to do today, which means I can hide in my office and talk to myself, and for once I am happy about this.  While I'm thinking how absolutely, positively lame I am I see a guy, on the highway, riding a bicycle.  Isn't that shit illegal?!  I think if I had the pick-up truck I'd have offered to take his ass to wherever the hell he was pedaling to the poor bastard, but with my luck I'd have been dumped into the river.

So I still didn't get my Mega Millions lottery ticket, but before I get into my workout pants and take off my bra, I suppose I should do just that, and I will try really hard not to hit up the liquor store before the end of my "work day."

*cheers my friends*

Friday, March 23, 2012


So oldest child, as some of you may know, wanted to take an after-school class for Cake Decorating because my little entrepreneur wants to be a baker just like Buddy from Cake Boss.  Well, said little after-school class is a whopping $75.00 to take for something like eight weeks.  After some pleading from her and some hemming and hawing on my part, I decide to write out the check (that will eventually bounce I'm sure), but in exchange for said yet-to-bounce check she was to step it up in the chore department.  She didn't flinch, and I was amazed at my new power I didn't realize I had.

So up on the dry erase board goes a daily list of chores (that I don't want to do) such as empty and fill the dishwasher, start the washer/dryer, you know, things of this nature.  She also gets a daily extra chore once a week of shit I totally 100% do not even do, such as clean the baseboards.  Who in their right mind does that weekly?  I bet you often wonder what the hell a baseboard might even look like and refused to move the toys out of the way to even bother to check it out.  Now, I can tell you that her idea of doing chores correctly and my way are two completely different versions, but I really do struggle with my OCD monster when I see her sweeping the floor at .2 miles per hour.  Come on, come on girl, get the hell out of my way and finish these chores.  I digress -- she does them and most of the time without a face. 

This has been going on two weeks now.  Let us fast forward to yesterday's first cake decorating class.  I go and pick her up from school and out she comes with three cupcakes all decorated pretty with fondant or some shit, and the light bulb, this thing goes off and burns bright up in my head.  Wait, wait, hold on a second, this mom didn't even stop to think that she was going to bring said goodness home and that, of course, I get first crack at whatever she makes.  Shut the front door, I'm amazed at this new idea.  She will come home weekly with goodies that I get first dibs on??!!

So let's recap shall we:  I get chores done around the house that I don't want to do myself and I get goodies once a week to devour?!  I'm not seeing the downfall to this (other than the check that has yet to be cashed and if they want their money, they better hurry up and cash it while there's funds in my account). 

Alas, I figured out that it is roughly $9.35 per tasty treat that I am eating, but you know what, $9.35 a week is a small price to pay for the slave labor and the smile that comes with the pretty face of my girl. 

*cheers my friends*

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Tween v. Mom

Let me start by saying that I have no doubt that I will, in fact, survive the teenage years, but at what cost and how many months, dare I say years, of therapy will it take for me to come out on the other side even as half the woman I was going into it.  I also have no doubt that I will be the reason my daughter says to me at age 30 that she sat her ass in many-a-therapy sessions for the same teenage years.  Of course, I will know that her version of the events that are to take place will be the exact opposite of my version.

I digress, for this day is the day I really begin to question if I am a capable of even making it TO the dreaded teenage years.  Girl child will be 11 in a few months.  Is she officially a "tween" at this point?  I don't have a clue as I don't pay much attention to that as she's been a thorn in my side for at least a good part of a year now (and that's being kind).  I sure as hell hope that at this moment she is not considered a "mini me" for if this is truth, I apologize to those around me for I am an asshole.

These are things that are baffling my sleep-deprived, toddler induced craziness in no particular order, and if I could say these things to her without the drama that would surely ensue I would:

1.  Girl child, before you speak, would you please think about what it is you are trying to convey because when you start a sentence and stop five damn times trying to spit out what the hell it is you're trying to say, I have shut down and moved onto my next five things I have to do in the next five minutes.  I surely have not heard a single thing you said as my brain is screaming "WHAT IS IT THAT YOU WANT" all the while keeping a nodding head as if I'm paying you any kind of attention.

2.  When you go to the kitchen to get a drink, get a drink and move on.  Don't stand in the fridge, hemming and hawing, close the fridge, go sit back down and wait for my ass to get up and say, "Oh, can you get me some water," and when I look at you like you've got 10 heads don't say, "what" as if you have no clue as to what the hell I'm perplexed about -- which is how lazy one kid can possibly be.

3.  Seriously, dear girl child, if I have to look at that downtrodden face for the next six to eight years you will see me running naked across the golf course one morning pulling my hair out and speaking in tongues in the hopes that the white van will quietly pull up next to me and put on that awesome little jacket with the buckles and feed me pills three times a day.  It's okay if you don't come visit because I think that the sight of you will cause me to convulse and be put into that special room that has soft walls so I don't hurt myself.

4.  Before I do get to the point of the above-stated golf course screaming scenario, would you please, for the love of all that is holy, get out of my ass, please.  You know I work at home, and sometimes it is inevitable that I must work while you are home.  Yes, dear girl child, my life is more than you.  I know, I know how hard that is to comprehend, but I assure you, if you leave me be for 30 minutes, I will emerge from this dark hole I consider my office and tend to your every must-be-now desire.   Also, yes, I have my headphones on and yes, I am typing, and yes, you are right, I am completely trying to ignore you, but your breathing on my neck literally is going to be the death of you.  I know you are capable of being an independent human being for 30 minutes, and if you don't get out of my ass, you will find yourself adding an extra month onto your therapy sessions in your mid to late 20s.

These are just a few of the things I'm tossing around in my weary mind.  There are tons more, but when I think about these few I get a twitch in my left eye.  I do hope that this twitch does not become permanent as I realize people already look at me funny while I go about my daily life.  I do apologize profusely to those I come into contact with as I know that any interaction with my frazzled mind must leave you dazed for a few minutes, and those are precious moments you cannot get back.  Please forgive me if I don't care as I'm working on a few precious years that I will never get back, and as I stare at the mountain before me that leads to the Land of the Teenagers, please just push me forward and run far, far away because these screams of horror are just not becoming of me. 

*cheers my friends*

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

The Price Paid for Trying to Lose Weight

SERIOUSLY!!!!!????  I have these monster boobs because they went from a size DDD, which was bad enough to a freakin' G after the baby was born TWO YEARS AGO and they haven't gone down.  This pretty much kills my pipe dream of them ever going back to a suitable size.  So when I run I have to wear two sports bras.  Yes, yes, I do, and I've resigned myself to this fact.  I mean yes, it's pretty painful that my entire neck is being tugged down by these two melons on my chest stuffed into two bras (which is not a pretty sight trying to get them off all sweaty...ack), but I've accepted this as my life. It could be worse as all my non-boobage friends might tell me.

ANYWAYS, so I put my heart rate monitor on this morning, which is the one that has a chest strap, and I'm all "strapped in" (pun intended apparently), and I'm runnin' and I'm runnin' all Forrest Gump like feeling pretty pleased with my awesome self.  Fast forward to when I come home and jump in the shower only to find to my dismay --- STINGING UNDERBOOBS!!!  They were rubbing up against the HRM and caused wicked rubage and now I'm all red and sooorrrreee.  So, no, this is not my idea of a good time whatsoever.

How DARE i try to lose weight...*kicks rocks*  I see now that this is my punishment for my "selfishness" of wanting some "me" time without the kids and wanting to be smokin' hot -- or let's just be honest; just pleasant to the eyes of those around me that I must offend with myself.

So, clearly this is Mother Nature's way of saying -- here, honey, have another cookie.  You're meant to be fluffy.*head desk*

*cheers my friends*

Saturday, January 28, 2012

Lies (some) Mothers Tell Me

There are two extremely false statements I have found that people try to convince me are truth.  The first thing I am pretty positive is a complete falsehood is the following statement:  "Oh, you don't even remember the pain of childbirth."  Excuse me while I try not to choke on my coffee.  Were you in a land of rainbows and puffy clouds during those excrutiating hours or was I not given the correct drugs because I can tell you with sincere honesty I do remember and it is not fading into a distant memory. 

In fact, I remember quite distinctly that while some doctor's hands were stuffed up my crotch I had a contraction that seemed to go on forever, and a nurse said, "Oh honey, on a scale of 1 to 10 how was that?"  I think at this point I hissed at her, horns grew out of the front of my head and I said something along the lines of way more than a 10.  I hear her sing-songy response, "Oh well, yes, yes, I can see that that was, in fact, quite bad as it is way off the chart.  See here?"  She puts that piece of paper in front of my face so that I can see clearly that yes, yes, I guess I was right and the machine agreed that yes, yes, I am off the charts.  Excuse me while I don't smile and thank you for the confirmation, crazy nurse, but I am too busy trying to keep my body from turning inside out at this particular moment.  So I guess I'm one of those few people that remembers quite well their labor pains.

The second statement of which I am positive is a lie is:  "Oh, I don't even remember what my life was like before I had kids."  Excuse me again while I laugh at you and try not to pee my pants because I carried a watermelon around and I now pee every time I sneeze.  Maybe I'm just jealous of those people, but it's Saturday as I write this, and I most certainly can remember what my life was like before I had children. 

*insert daydream music*  It was a blissful Saturday morning while snow was falling quietly outside my window.  I lazily stretched in my bed and snuggled deeper under the covers hiding my head and falling back to that blissful dream state until my body said that it got all the peace and rest it needed to function for the day.  It was time to get up and leisurely stroll around the house until I had some pressing matter to attend to such as getting ready to go out to have dinner and drinks with my husband. 

Sounds totally fantastic as I type it.  I'm even staring longingly up at the ceiling as if my memory were encased in a cloud above my head.  Now there is no sleeping in and snuggling.  There is only this constant reminder that my kids decide when they think I've had enough sleep, and I can assure you that they are not on the same schedule as my body.  There is the soul-sucking 7:00 a.m. cry of mommy, mommy and the awesome job of changing a wet diaper with my eyes half closed, and if I'm lucky, I won't fall down the stairs going to get breakfast for the soul suckers. 

I also like to pretend I'm completely happy and that I am, in fact, something of a super woman, and while I make a cup of coffee, I repeat over and over to myself -- I can do this, I am awesome, I am super woman.  I quickly realize that I am not as awesome and super womanly as I believe I can be because as I start walking with my wonderfully smelling fresh coffee, I step on a train, stumble and catch myself only to find that I have spilled my entire coffee all down the front of my shirt and onto the floor.  I sigh as I wipe the coffee off the floor with my sock and collapse into my chair and close my eyes for a half a second.  How dare I do such a thing when there are cars to be played with or blocks to build a tall tower with, and how dare I forget this fact for a split second.

I see that it is, by this time, only 7:30 a.m. and half my coffee is gone and not because I had the luxury of drinking it.  It's 7:30 a.m. and already a tower as tall as my son must be built right this instant.  I'm thinking how this could be a terrific time for that shower that I must have.  It is 7:35 a.m. and said tower of blocks has not been built yet because there are trains, trains, more trains that just have to be brought into the station so the damn electronic conductor can scream at me and make my ears bleed.  I begrudgingly get up and go try to figure out a way to make that guy stop yelling when I feel my feet on the kitchen floor sticking.  It is, indeed, the coffee that was spilled that I so heroically cleaned up with my stocking feet that is screaming at me how no, no, no super woman, this half-assed cleaning shall not do.

So, you see, I quite clearly remember my life before my kids, and I will call you out on your crazy notions that this is a time of blissful motherhood.  You can't pull one over on this girl because there is no time in this house to live in such fantasy worlds.  There are trucks now for me to step on, and I pretty much think that there is a dirty diaper to be changed already.  It's only 7:45 a.m., and I feel that this is, without a doubt, going to be another long day. 

*cheers friends*

Friday, January 27, 2012

My Life as a Movie

So it's Groundhog Day in my house today again.  Same thing, same pace, same thoughts as yesterday.  I send the husband off to work and make a cup of coffee and sit in my chair, scan my phone for messages, scarymommy confessions, post one or two or five, look at the clock and sigh.

After getting the kids up and settled I proceed to go hide in the shower.  Yes, I am hiding.  I already took a shower last night so technically I don't *need* another one. 

Let's see, I'm thinking how it's Friday and how this means nothing to me.  I think how I successfully (loosely used) drank every night this week and how pathetic this is, and I need to get off the pity-party-go-round because this is doing nothing positive for the waistline I'm trying desperately to lose. 

Let's move on to how I'm dreading hitting up my spin class today, but not for the class itself; rather all it takes to just get ready for said spin class.  I have to dig out some workout gear from the loads of laundry that have miraculously piled up in one day.  How does that happen anyways I often wonder.  Then I have to actually stuff myself into said finally found clothes, the sports bra being the worst offender out of the bunch.  I'm thinking how the hell can my daughter be so damn chipper this morning because she hasn't shut her mouth once.  She was in the bathroom peeing, talking to herself.  Dear Lord, girl, it's 8:00 a.m. 

So then I'm trying to find something positive about my day.  At this point, I am totally not *green* at all as the hot water I am wasting is pretty pathetic.  Okay, something positive.  Come on, girl, you can do this.  I need something other than the traditional "I woke up today" crap.  Think, think, think.  Then this leads me to think about Winnie the Pooh.  Snap out of it, girl.  What is wrong with you?!  I'm about to give up and shut the water off when I hear feet pitter-pattering down the hall.  I'm about to say crap, what does he want now when the bathroom door gets thrown open and I hear, "I love you, mommmmyyyyy." 

You are so lucky kid.  I shall let you make it through another day.  Thank you for giving me the positive I was looking for.  Now to find my sneakers and hit up my spin class.  *cheers mommies*

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Have You Seen Where I Left My Head?!

I usually come here and write when I've just about reached the end of my rope.  When I logged on I saw that I haven't been here since March of 2011.  Really?  Because I could have sworn I've been at the end of my rope a lot since that time.  Regardless, here I am, head lost, hanging on for dear life.  It has been a week where I am three bottles of red wine deep, and if I'm being honest with you, I'll tell you that they are 1.5 bottles.  Please, there is no wussy drinking for this mama.  If I'm going to drown my despair over losing control, I shall do it with gusto!!  So, continuing on...

I am like a lot of people, I love to show my kids off in videos and pictures, and I don't discriminate.  I post the good and the bad crap that they do and obnoxiously show it off on Facebook.  I'm not ashamed of it because if you are sick of seeing my kids, then you surely are missing out on some entertainment.  So, as the ever-obnoxious mom I am, I posted a video yesterday of my two-and-a-half year old son being a devil-child when he was supposed to be napping.  I mainly posted it because I was desperate for the feedback and any advice anyone could offer to me about this sudden change in his napping.  Now, I do realize that they grow out of naps, but since I work from home I was hoping to avoid this for a little bit longer.

So I did, indeed, get some advice; bendaryl (sorry, I can't waste that on nap times), books (a no go), turning the monitor off (still can hear his screaming voice through the walls), audio books (this is what I am trying currently, and I'll let you know if it was a success).  Fast forward to a couple of comments where people pointed out how cute it was when my son saw me videotaping him he smiled and was so happy to see me.  Cue that record screeching to a halt sound here.  What the hell is everyone talking about?  I go and review said tape and there it is; the adorable smile that I missed while I was so frustrated and irritated.  I realize that it is quite clear that I am, indeed, an asshat.  So now I have this awesome video displaying my asshatery and let's memorialize the moment in this blog shall we.

I was going to end this by saying something about pulling my big girl panties up and trying to regain the control I once had, but at that moment, the wood chipper guy started up his machine outside my window, i.e., the devil-child's window, and there is no napping going on.  Yes, yes, there is an audio book going on, but while I try to control the twitch in my eye I am wondering if he can even hear said audio book.  Oh yes my friends, I am indeed going to pull up my big girl panties, wash my wine glass, fill it to its brim and go to my window and wait until I catch the eye of one of the wood chipper guys and give him that good old fashion one-finger salute!!   *cheers mommies*