A Pile Of Appendages

The differences between boys and girls is way more than who’s got the balls. 

Seriously.  I have a fourteen year old daughter who was an angel as an infant, not too difficulty as a toddler, a lot of fun as a preschooler, a little trying as a grade-schooler……and now quite challenging as a young lady in high school.

My five year old daughter was just a little challenging as an infant because of her milk allergy, but as a toddler she was brilliant, and now as a preschooler she can probably manage our finances and schedules better than I can.

Now, my Little Man…he just turned FOUR yesterday……he was head-strong as an infant, giving up his bottle on his own before he turned a year old, not wanting to be cuddled before bed, but choosing to sleep in his car seat, climbing everything and anything, being my reason for having to baby-proof my home for the first time evahh.

It’s the Little Man that was the reason for me hollering,

“Do you want me to chop off your hands???”

“CHOP – CHOP!!!”

when I heard him ask his sister,

“Do you want me to flick you??  Do you???” 

Geez….where does he get this from? 

It was also the Little Man that had me asking,

“Shall I cut off your feet too???”

“CHOP – CHOP!!!”

when I saw him kick the dog.

(Trust me here, I did an image search on Google to find a pile of hands and feet to post, and what I got was a bit disturbing so I nixed that idea right away)

I am not proud of threatening to chop off the appendages of my littlest one.  No.  I am not proud.

I had to back track and figure out how to go about this in a not so violent way. 

I truly believe that kids learn some of their behaviors although boys tend to learn a lot of the ones that we wish they would ignore.  Girls tend to learn the “words”…..yeah, I’ve had to cut way back on my potty mouth.

A few days ago while driving home after picking up the little ones, Little Man was in one of his I’mgoingtodoeverythingIcantopissyouoff moods and he was repeating everything I was saying. 

I hate this.

I really really hate this.

But, I am an adult and I know how to ignore.  (It’s just a phase, right??)

Then he started trying to reach over to pull Lil Lady’s hair.  She kept telling him to stop it.  Then he was trying to reach her with his foot while being buckled in his car seat.  She was getting pissed.

Between his evil giggle, repeating what I was saying, then repeating Lil Lady’s “STOP IT!!” every time she said it, the tension in the car was building. 

I holler out,

“Manny!!!  Do you want me to smack you????”

Only to get a response from my Lil Lady Einstein…..

“Mom…..remember??   CHOP – CHOP??”

How about if we just keep our hands to ourselves??

Ok….proud Mommy moment of the year DECADE.  As I was doing a Google search for “keep your hands to yourself” to find an image to add to this here post, guess who’s pic I come across?

First I saw this:

 

Ok, so Yo Gabba Gabba sings a song about keeping your hands to yourself. 

Then I saw this:

 

 

Cute.  I may print that and hang it on my fridge.

Then……and here comes the moment I take a bow. 

I see THIS:

 

 

OMG!!  You don’t get it, do you??  That, my dear friends, is

MY Little MAN!!

What on earth is he doing under a Google search for “keep your hands to yourself”????  What have I done???

Yep. 

I am not proud.

No sir-ee.

(But he is awfully cute, isn’t he??)

Have a great day!  Link up with these lovely ladies!!

 

  

Baby Sitter Saga #258

Seriously….are there any good babysitters out there any more?  I have gone through several. 

My Dad.

He did well with Lil Lady.  Until she was able to move from point A to point B.  Really.  He did well.  Sometimes didn’t get her diaper on quite right.  And once he called me to tell me to hurry home because Lil Lady puked all over him, but all in all it wasn’t too bad.

After my Dad couldn’t babysit anymore, and I had Little Man on the way….my sister babysat.  She was da bomb!!  She spent time with Lil Lady and didn’t just let her watch anything on TV.  She actually monitored what she watched, what she played with, what she ate or didn’t eat.  It was awesome.  And when Little Man came into this world, she treated him as one of her own.

Of course all good things must come to an end.  Damn my big sis for wanting to actually get her nursing degree.  Yep, she flew my coop to better herself.  I told her she was good enough right where she was, babysitting my kiddos so I could be the nurse in the family.

She left me anyways.

She is now an awesome Hospice Nurse.

And I struggle with babysitters….

STILL.

One of the prior sitters seemed to have our roles confused.  She was certain it was ME that needed to work around HER availability.  Yeah…. shit happens.  It definitely does.  Why is it I keep finding myself in the situation to REMIND the sitter of who the fuck is in charge?  I AM IN CHARGE.

Dammit.

And Dammit, again.

After having my nephew’s wife and often times my nephew babysitting for a while, I found another sitter.  This time we would be taking the kids to her house instead of someone coming here and helping themselves to my groceries for the week.

Awesome!  Yes?

No.

Not really. 

At first it was the normal “I don’t want to go to (I won’t say Bobbi’s the sitter’s name here) her house!”

Ugh.  Every morning it was the same thing.  It never got better.  Never.  Ever.  Ever.

I witnessed a few things at this sitter’s home which I won’t go into detail about because you’d think me insane for continuing to take my children there.  I heard a lot of things from my Lil Lady that made me squirm a little bit more than I would have liked.  I heard from Little Man how he was always in time out. 

The last few incidents with my kiddos over there were enough for me.  Let me tell you, this sitter rarely got her ass up off the couch….even when I would come pick up my kids.  She would just sit there.  I often wondered if she EVER got up.  I would ask Lil Lady things like…”Does Bobbi ever move?”  She would say, “Yes, Mom.  She has to feed us sometimes.”

Just “sometimes’??

Ugh.

The last day they were there, I walked into the toy room to gather them up.  Lil Lady said, “Bobbi said I drew on this toy.  I told her I didn’t.  She made me wash it anyways.”

Huh?

I didn’t even get to respond when Mrs. Idon’tmovemyassfromthecouch is right there behind me.  She asked if Lil Lady just said she MADE her clean the toy.  I said yes, yes she did say that.

She looked at my Lil Lady and said,

“I didn’t say that, did I, Lil?  Did I??  DID I????”

“I would not say that.  DID I SAY THAT LIL??”

My Lil Lady was fearful.  I could see it in her eyes.  I heard it in her voice when she said in barely a whisper…..

“No, Bobbi.”

 

 

OhhhhmyyyyyeffingggggGodddddddd.

You did NOT just terrorize my kid right before my eyes, did you?

What does she do when I am NOT there to protect my babies??? 

Then I noticed the lips.

My 5 year old had lipstick on.  Ok.  So I know how little girls like to play with make up.  This lipstick was a little much….not just on the lips but a little bit more ABOVE the lips….sort of clown-ish.  I told Lil Lady I wanted to fix her lipstick, you know, get it off her skin and just have it on her lips.  I wet the papertowel.  I start to wipe. 

Nothing comes off.

NOTHING.

WHAT THE FUCK IS ON MY KIDS LIPS?????

Lil Lady says, “Bobbi says it will stay on for two days.  Two days, Mom!”  Pretty exciting, no?

NO.  No and no and NO!!!

Bobbi said “it will stay on for a little while”.  She tried to find the lightest color……blah blah blah.

It was PURPLE.  Fucking PURPLE!

I was livid.  You don’t put lip STAIN on someone else’s child.  You don’t.  You DO NOT.  What if she had an allergy??  And this stuff didn’t wipe off!!

Seriously.

Brainless people. 

Because I am resourceful, I found another sitter.  Just like that. 

HA!

In yo face, Bobbi!!

When I told Bobbi we weren’t coming back because my kids are not happy and you don’t do anything with them and you are a lousy-ass sitter and you terrorized my child in front of me and you made her lips purple without my permission….she had the nerve to say…

“I think I deserve a two week notice.  I need to find your replacement.”

What the Fuck??  Seriously?

 

 

I think not.  No.  No two week notice.  I just said my kids aren’t happy.  And if my kids aren’t happy, I’m not happy. 

Since when does someone get fired AND be given 2 weeks to find another job?  Since when?? 

I pray, and I pray and I pray….and I don’t normally pray….but my God, I’ve been PRAYING that this new sitter is all she appears to be.

It’s so good not to hear I don’t want to go to Bobbi's!!  Instead I have been hearing…

“Aren’t you ready yet, Mom??  Can’t we go now?  Hurry up!”

Yes.

There IS a God.

Trust me, when Little Man loves someone, he loves with his whole heart.  He asked me, after just two days at the new sitter’s house,

“Mom, can I be her owner?”

 

 

Ahhh….Manny…..sure you can.  But we don’t “own” people…ok?

“Okay, Mom.”

If you know the language of the short people, you know all he meant was that he’s smitten with the new sitter.  And this, my friends, is a FIRST. 

Keep your fingers crossed for all of us!

A Wrinkle or Three

As I filled my pillbox this morning I thought….WTF?  Am I getting old or what?  I fill my PATIENT’S pill boxes, not my OWN.  I’ve tried filling Mr. Sake’s but I think he’s afraid I will see that he is non-compliant so he nixed that idea immediately.  Said I “messed him up” or something like that.

(insert eye roll here)

I KNOW I have a thousand and one some wrinkles.  Sometimes wrinkles just come with stress.  Sometimes with age.  In my case?  Probably both. 

I wake up looking like this:

 

 

See the eye puffiness?

Sucks.

I go to bed looking like this:

 

 

Puffiness is less, yes?  No, really….look closely.  See it now?

In all fairness, my kids look like this….

 

 

Oh, wait….I have three kids.  Not four.  Or maybe I do have four….??

Shit.

Anywhoozle, it’s BECAUSE of the kids that I am the way I am.  I had my first when I was just turning thirty.  That wasn’t so bad.  I could deal with one, I was fairly young still, I had it handled.  I was SUPERMOM!!!

 

 

Then, somehow, somewhere….ten years down the road another one arrived.  Lil Lady.

Ok, yeah….the oldest was 10, I was nearly 40 but who cares, right?  I can DO this, I told myself. 

And I did it.  Some help from Mr. Sake was well appreciated.  Also had some help from the first born until she got shit upon (literally)….so much for “big-sister-babysitter”.

Then I woke up one morning and saw that there was ONE MORE added to the bunch.  Little Man.

Wherethefuckdidhecomefrom I wanted to know.  And I wanted to know IMMEDIATELY.

 

 

Seriously.  I’ve been known to sit around and ponder my life and think….where the hell did these short people come from??  And that’s exactly how it feels.

One day it was me and one child, then it was me, a spouse and THREE children.  So, when I look in the mirror and see the wrinkles, I know exactly why they are there.  It has nothing to do with being old.

It has EVERYTHING to do with having kids.

The ones around my eyes are from the countless ways my children can make me laugh.  My oldest has a sense of humor that should be bottled and sold as a cure for PMS. 

The ones around my mouth are from the kazillion times these kids have made me smile.

The ones on my forehead are from “the look” I need to give them when they are doing something that they know I will kick their asses for that causes me to raise my eye brows.

The ones between my brows are a different story.  The kids cannot take full credit for them.  These wrinkles are the most special.  They belong to not only the kids, but the spouse as well.  You know the look.  It’s the are you fucking kidding me?? “what did you just say???”  look.  You know it.  I am sure.  And you know it well.

Regardless, I will embrace my wrinkles each day. 

As for the gray hairs I have noticed popping up here and there? 

There’s an app, I mean, there’s a color for that, I’m sure!!

 

Do You Want to Be on Top??

Valentine’s Day……

How was yours?  Mine started off with work.  I rushed through seeing a few patients before I had my own doctor’s appointment.  At my appointment I found out that my B12 level is extremely low.  Hmmmm……

I don’t eat enough meat.

It’s not that I’m a vegetarian, because I don’t eat vegetables either.

I just choose to get my energy from other sources.

 

I could live on White Chocolate Mochas.  In fact, I think I do.  And my blood work proved it.

So, I left the doc with a script in hand for B12 injections that I have to give myself weekly. 

 

I can do this.  I. Am. A. Nurse.

Fuck.  (that’s an entirely different blog post, I’m certain)

After my visit I had to pick up the teen from school.  Then off I went to pick up the short people from the sitter’s.  Lil Lady not feeling well.  Turns out she has “slight pneumonia”.  Really??  Is that like being “slightly pregnant”??  Also Little Man who was  just on antibiotics last week for one ear infection now has a double ear infection.  You’d never know by the way he was tearing up the doctor’s office.

After this visit I had to pick up all of our meds from the pharmacy.

After dropping kids off at home I had to run to a store quickly to get little Valentine’s gifts that I should have already gotten but didn’t because I’m such an awesome mom idiot.  Seriously…I had plenty of opportunities to do this.  I am a slug.

As I’m in the store having a conversation with some guy asking if I thought his girlfriend who always asks him to reach the remote would like one of these “grabber looking things”, the spouse calls to say a co-worker has stopped over to pick up a piece of equipment for work that I said she could use.  The equipment that was in my car, in the parking lot, at Five Below, and not at home.

It was a rush rush rush all day that I totally forgot I told her I would be home.

“Fuck!”

“Fuck Valentine’s Day!”

And that’s exactly what I said to the spouse on the phone.  He gives the phone to the co-worker and I say, as sweet as can muster up….

“Heyyyyy…yeah…..I forgot.  I’m so so sorry.  Wanna run up here to Five Below?  Yeah?  Ok…thanks!  See you soon!  I’ll wait outside for you!!  K!  Buh-byeeee!”

Shit.

The guy examining the “grabber looking thing” looks at me and says, “well??” 

 

I said, “I don’t know…I got my husband steak knives.”

He says….

“Fuck.”

Exactly, buddy….exactly. 

I just can’t get it all done.

I can’t.

But I did.  In the car, I shoved the little goodies in the bags, shoved in the tissue paper, made the gifts look pretty….and home I went.

The spouse had his gift for me sitting on the bed first thing this morning.  I refused to open it because I didn’t have his put together yet.  It takes a bit to make steak knives look like an awesome gift ya know. 

But look.  Just LOOK at what I got!!

 

Awesome, yes??

So, then I asked…..

“Oh, do YOU want to be on top??”

He had the nerve to say…

“I’m a little tired of being on top.”

Seriously, Mr. Sake??

 

Looks a little lonely in that recliner, doesn’t it??

Hope you all had a great Valentine’s Day!!

Change? Hell No!

I logged onto my blog the other day and noticed it didn’t look like my blog.  Instead of 3 columns, there was one….and the rest of my stuff was sitting down below all my posts.

If you know me, and even if you don’t, you can imagine my anxiety. 

I spent all of Monday evening trying to fix it.

I spent all of Tuesday evening trying to fix it.

Anxiety??

I was more than anxious.

I was PISSED OFF!

I wanted my old template back and I wanted it back NOW.

I tried consulting Real Dad…..

Oh, yeah….he asked if I was certain I wasn’t putting my things in the “footer widget” or something like that.

I told him I was sure.

Then I informed him kindly…..if he didn’t figure this out I was going to footer HIM in the WIDGET!

He then thought he’d get all technical on me and started talking some computer lingo about getting into my backend or something like that.  He said I could change my password when he was done.

 

 

I do not like change.

I go to the same gas station, the same pump, buy the exact same amount of gas each time, shop at the same grocery store, go to the same coffee shop and order the same damn thing every every EVERY day…..

Change sucks.

I spent all of Wednesday evening trying to fix it.

I DESPISE change.

I tried starting from scratch but this also did not work.

Mr. Sake enters the room.  He sees I am stressing out.  He sees I’m about to cry.  He sees that he needs to step in and take over. 

 

Mr. Sake also hates change. 

Mr. Sake also knows that if this issue isn’t fixed like A.S.A.P. there is going to be hell to pay until it IS fixed.

Mr. Sake also doesn’t have any experience with Blogger.  Or Wordpress.  Or Anyothertypeofbloggingservice.

I was scared.

Even though I do not get to blog as often as I would like, I take pride in my design. 

There is not enough Xanax in the world to calm my ass down.

Here’s me all youdon’tknowwhatthefuckyouaredoing and youcouldscrewupthewholedamnthingworsethanitis!!!

I just KNOW he’s gonna fuck it up.

I’m sorry, honey….you scare me sometimes.

It has something to do with you acting before thinking.  Then saying “I didn’t know THAT would happen….”

 

 

 

It’s been a full moon.

So, 3 days, 22 hours, 248 minutes, 22 xanax and 918 seconds later….

SUCCESS!

I don’t know how.

I don’t know when.

I don’t know if I could ever fix it again.

I DO know I saved the fucking template this time.

Booyah!!!

Bastards!!