I likey, like, like it alot

Tuesday night I got a mom's night out! Yahooo! Can you see me over here doing cartwheels (no not really, I never did learn to do a cartwheel...lame huh). I snuck out of work early, picked up some dinner for the crew, changed and was out the door. Leslie and I chatted while I drank a chocolate martini and nibbled on some hummus. It was so nice and quiet! Good conversation and booze...what could be better??? I didn't feel guilty at all. Then I came home and made snacks for the boys Halloween parties. Next year I am signing up for plates! It was late when I got to bed and of course Ava woke up coughing so hard she barfed in my bed. Nice. But that early evening brake left me relaxed enough that it was no biggie. Love, mom's night out!!! Yeah watch me do the cabbage patch!!!

No Guts and Glory

Monday night the kids and I carved pumpkins. Well I guess I should say I carved pumpkins, Amonte played on the Internet and the rest of the kids fed guts to Norm and flung them at each other.. I printed some templates off the computer and had each kid pick one. Amonte declined to pick so I chose his. Cade of course picked one that required way too much detail (Scooby Doo) but I did my best. Cade refused to scoop guts at all. Peyton scooped the majority of his pumpkin out and the was designated as photographer. He spent most of the time taking pictures of the dogs ass and my but crack in my low rise yoga pants. Nice. Ava was very concerned about the guts and kept picking all of the seeds out and putting them back in the pumpkin. The boys did not appreciate that at all. Two and 1/2 hours later the pumpkins were carved and Norm had licked the last piece of guts off the cabinets and floor. We actually managed to do it with no blood shed. Hmm.

Of course blogger is being a pain in my ass again...so no pics till later. Yes, I Know...I feel your disappointment.

Shhh. It's a secret.

I have a cold. Not a truly bad one, not yet. But I am leaving work early. *Cough, Cough* I'm terribly ill. Really I have to make Halloween treats for 48 kids. I have a date tonight with a friend and a chocolate martini. My baker duties shall not interfere. *Hachoo*

Large ears are good for listening

Over heard while I was in the bathroom last night, pieces of a conversation:
Peyton: Wanna see something cool?
Peyton: Go get the scissors.
Peyton: No get mom's really sharp ones.
Peyton: Keep Ava over there in case something goes wrong.

Pieces of a conversation overheard this morning:
Cade: Dad said no.
Peyton: Ask mom.
Cade: No dad said no.
Peyton: But mom is the boss.
Cade: No dad is, he is bigger.
Peyton: Yeah but only by a tiny bit and remember mom has the check book.

Another one bites the dust

Well so much for the "yahooo, I have a new sitter" feeling. Truly I don't think I'm really that picky. I just want a sitter: who can tell time, knows that bread and butter with a glass of koolaid does not a meal make, does not have a cell phone attached to her head or a boyfriend attached to her hip, who won't leave because she has too much homework, who won't leave because she had a fight with her boyfriend and she needs to go find him, someone who will actually watch my children and possibly even play a game with them or pretend to be interested in their stories. ARGGG. I thought I had found her but alas, not the case. After being with the kids for two hours she called and asked me to come home early. Her boyfriend had decided they were going to the movies. Nice. Luckily I had done the scrap sale and had a nice lunch with Lynne...but I got no errand run, no costume for her Majesty, no bills paid. After she left I interrogated the boys who informed me she had gone outside to smoke at least 10 times. SMOKE???? I give up!

The freaks come out at night

I did it. I did it alone. And I survived. i took the 3 youngest to two...yes count them two Halloween stores to get their costumes. There were NO tears...even when the costume Peyton wasn't was sold out. There was no arguing. No spitting, hitting or biting. A stranger complimented me on how well behaved my children were (ok they were good but not that good..this chick needs to get out more). It was a success. Ok..screw that it was a MIRACLE!

I did not find Ava a costume....seeing as at 20 months I really didn't want her being mistaken for a prostitute and apparently slutty little girl costumes are all the rage. I will be slaving over her costume this weekend.

Peyton and Cade each picked their own. I can not tell you what though because I would rather dazzle you with pics of them in all their glory later. You have been warned.

So this weekend we will be carving pumpkins, finishing up some ghosting and busting out the sewing machine.

I have a new sitter watching the kids for a few hours so I can get out with Lynne in the am for some shopping and lunch. PRAY FOR HER!!!!

Blog at ya later.

Jingle Bells Secret Santa Smells

Christmas is right around the corner. I love Christmas. One of the things I love the most is giving gifts. I actually do believe I like to give more than receive (um, that is not true in all aspects of my life!). I already have my list made and have been agonizing over the "right" gift to give. I mean I want to give people what their heart desires.

I know they say "it's the thought that counts" but does it really count if there was no thought involved? I spend a lot of time and effort searching out treasures for others. On Marks side of the family we have a huge name draw every year. I always call and ask what people would like and make every effort to make them happy. Not once has anyone asked me, my hubby or my kids what they would like. Amonte and Cade have ended up with toys that were way too young for them, Ava and Peyton with clothes at least 3 sizes too small, myself bath stuff every year that gives my delicate skin hives and Mark usually just gets stuff he could care less about. I would rather they donated to a charity in our name....anything else really. Do I sound like an ungrateful bitch?

The worst gift I have ever gotten: As a child my "father" sent my brother and I a Christmas gift. It was addressed in a woman's handwriting. The gift labeled for me was clearly a sweater meant for my brother and vise versa. Even though the sweater was beautiful it made me sad whenever I saw it.

The best gift I have ever gotten: Peyton 10 days before Christmas...Amonte 10 days after. Beautiful diamond earrings that were a total surprise on mine and Mark's first married Christmas.

How do you choose gifts? Does just the thought count? What's the best/worst gift you have ever gotten? Am I an ungrateful bitch?

Autopsy shows Shrek tissue in Man's grey matter

Mark sleeps with this giant, foam, Shrek green ear plugs in. Every night. No matter what. Last night I wanted to take them out of his ears and shove them up his nostrils...really, really far. I contemplated it for nearly an hour. Running through all of the excuses I could feed to my public defender. It would have been justified. You should not be allowed to sleep peacefully while disturbing someone else's already disturbed sleep. I'm reasonably certain there is a law. If it happens tonight I will smother him with a pillow. So help me god I will.

Duck and run for cover

Somebody is crazy. Somebody's therapist knows that if it looks like crazy, smells like crazy and tastes like crazy then somebody truly is crazy. Somebody's highly trained therapist diagnosed it as crazy and prescribed the necessary kiddie cocktail. Somebody's highly trained therapist does not order refills on previously mentioned cocktail. Somebody's highly trained therapist kindly requests 24 hours notice to refill the delicious Shirley Temple concoction. Somebody's highly trained therapist has a message on her answering machine that she is closing her practice: please schedule an appoint to discuss the transfer of records and kindly allow 48 hours notice when requesting refills. Somebody is highly aware that they are crazy so they request med refills one week in advance. Somebody's highly trained therapist did not bother to return Somebody's telephone call requesting med refills and an appointment. Somebody's crazy ass ran out of meds and is now experiencing withdrawal and semi psychosis. Somebody is held together fairly well with duct tape and super glue. However, someone who lacks such quick fixes may find themselves on top of the Consumers building with an automated weapon should such a highly trained therapist not bother to refill their meds.

Can somebody loan me some bail money???

Today as I was leaving work I saw the stupidest freaking bumper sticker I have ever seen in my entire life. It read : At least I can still smoke in my car. Are you freaking kidding me??? What made it worse was in the back seat of this hoopty were two car seats. One which was rear facing. Of all the arrogant, idiotic, moronic things I have ever read this seriously takes the cake. I highly considered waiting by this car and beating the owner to a bloody pulp with my purse. It would be worth ruining a perfectly darling bag and spending the night in jail. So worth it. However it would have made me late to pick up the little terrorists and at a $ a minute for each late minute....that's most likely more than bail. Damn it all. They so deserved a good ass whooping.

Insurance agents beware

Ava has been attending speech for over a month now, in addition to sign language tutors once a week. Although it was disappointing news, the speech therapist determined that there is an oral muscular issue. There have been minimal improvements in her language but in the past few days she has greatly increased her signing. It has been so nice to actually have her try and communicate with me! Our insurance company authorized the initial assessment and 12 subsequent visits. The therapist obviously requested more when she determined there truly was an issue besides attitude and because she is at least 1 year behind in language development. Well, what do you know....typical bureaucratic bullshit. Big insurance has DENIED any further visits. I almost feel sorry for who ever the poor bitch is that gets my phone call tomorrow. Cause NOBODY puts Her Majesty in the corner. NOBODY.

Glow in the dark karate *HI-YAH*

Conversation in the car today:
Me: Wow. You guys have been really good today. Did you get hit by lightening???
Cade: Yeah. This morning before I got up it hit me.
Me: Really? You got hit by lightening? Did it hurt?
Cade: Yeah. He hit me right in the eye.
Me: The lightening did?
Cade: Yeah and in the pie hole too.
Peyton: I'm starving.
Me: Are we talking about lightening still?
Cade:Yeah. That little flashing bug. Him keeps getting me. He does karate chops on my tummy. *sigh*
Me: OHHHH. The lightening bug.
Cade: Yeah. He kicked me right in the eye.
Me: I'm so sorry to hear that!
Cade: Then, he pooped in my bed.
Me: Gross...lightening bug poop.
Peyton: I'm starving to death.
CAde: Yeah. Umm. Ummm. I buried him in a hole.
Me: Oh, where did you bury him?
Cade: In another world.
Me: What world is that?
Peyton: Most likely Michigan State. It's gross there. I'm starving.
Cade: Yeah that's where.

M-GO BLUE!

Immunizations, proof of residency and ACT results please.

Ok. Here is my way belated TFT. Yeah I'm a big slacker...so what?

Peyton did a 2 year stint in preschool with an amazing, open, warm and loving teacher. He LOVED school and was sooo excited to start the big K this year.

Shortly before school started he did a week of migraines. I believe r/t anxiety mostly. The day of his orientation he was so nervous he was ill. His teacher was welcoming enough, pretty and young. I found her to be rather flat and patronizing but I chalked it up to a bad first impression. Peyton seemed to relax.

He came home the first day and cried. He begged me to never make him go back. For the first month he cried nightly. He never once mentioned his teacher. It was at least 3 weeks before he could even recall her name.

In his folder: worksheet after worksheet after worksheet.

Thursday was his parent teacher conference. I wasn't sure what to expect. She greet Mark and I and I could tell she had no clue who we were. Again...flat. She opened up Peyton's folder and the first thing she showed us: Mark and I looked at each other like WTF???? Peyton is a meticulous colorer. He HATES to go outside the lines. He will rip up his paper if he does. Here was a picture he had literally SCRIBBLED!!!!!

Then she pulls out his*are you ready for this* JOURNAL! Yeah a freaking journal. "He should be writing sentences that are meaningful, not just words." I was too stunned to say a word.

I offered to volunteer in the classroom. She politely declined.

I left the office thinking : She thinks my kid is a dumb ass. My smart, precocius little boy.

My friend Andrea and I were trading shifts watching the kids during the conference. She went next to hear Hannah's progress. When she walked out:

Me- Hate her?
Andrea-Oh yeah.

Later that night I mentioned to a friend about the journal...Peyton heard a bit and said "so I don't care".

At bedtime though he dissolved into a pool of tears. This FUCKING JOURNAL IS GIVING MY KID AN ULCER!!!

My question/thought is: when did K become so academic? Why are we putting such stress on 5 year olds? Is this normal? Or is she just clueless? Am I clueless?

Read em and weep

Kelly Clarkson :Irvine Lyrics
Are you there? Are you watching me? As I lie here on this floor
They say you feel what I do
They say you're here every moment
Will you stay? Stay 'till the darkness leaves
Stay here with me I know you're busy, I know I'm just one
But you might be the only one who sees me
The only one to save me
Why is it so hard? Why can't you just take me?
I don't have much to go Before I fade completely
Can you feel how cold I am? Do you cry as I do?
Are you lonely up there all by yourself?
Like I have felt all my life
The only one to save mine
How are you so strong? What's it like to feel so free? Your heart is really something
Your love, a complete mystery to me
Are you there watching me?As I lie here on this floor
Do you cry, do you cry with me?
Cry with me tonight
Are you there? Are you watching me?

Praying for water

I have felt like god has been calling me to him for many years. I have turned my back on these calls for many reasons/excuses. However, even though I did not have faith I have always felt a strong and compelling compassion for humanitarian issues...especially those involving the lives of children.

I have recently answered God's call and have begun building my relationship with him...this is largely in part due to discovering an awesomely progressive church (Westwinds). Currently the church is looking at Causemology: Over the course of a year you involve yourself in a cross-section of brand new ways of exploring and investigating what it means to be a lover and a follower of Jesus Christ in our ever-changing world. One of the sections is our environmental shoe print on the earth. Yeah, as a semi-crunchy I love that.

Today at church they played Kelly Clarkson's Irvine which is deeply moving all on it's own. On the screen they showed statistics related to the worlds lack of access to clean water and photos of children getting drinking water from soiled streams. Seriously, I must be majorly premenstrual because it was almost too much for me to bear. I was choking back sobs.

• Chew on this:
  1.1 billion people (18% of the world's population) lack access to safe drinking water
  
  In a world of unprecedented wealth, almost 2 million children die each year due to a lack of clean water and inadequate sanitation
  
  Access to clean water and sanitation can reduce the risk of a child dying by as much as 50%.

I can not even imagine. We did not even begin to think of water as a luxury...although it looks like people in Georgia may have to start. Perhaps we should. Check out Play Pumps for an awesome way to get involved.

• The PlayPump systems are innovative, sustainable, patented water pumps powered by children at play. Installed near schools, the PlayPump system doubles as a water pump and a merry-go-round for children.

Anyway, I'll get off my soap box now.

Ears, urine and dog porn

Norm is snoring LOUD. The kids are all asleep. It's 10:15 and I just realized I haven't eaten all day. I'm so tired I can barely keep my eyes open...maybe because Cade was up at 5 am and Ava got up every two hours last night. *Whine*. I will hopefully get to it before next Thursday. I have lots of thoughts swimming in that sea of infoporn. Here's a few cuties from my day:

Peyton-heading off to his room to color: I'm going in my room and nobody come in. Artists need alone time to create. God don't let me find an ear in there.

Ava-whipped off her diaper this am in the kitchen and peed on the floor...in full little boy stance. I think the boys need to shut the bathroom door from now on. Potty training may get confusing.

Cade-Is SOUND asleep holding Ava right now. So freakin sweet. Oh there is also a cat in that mix too.

Amonte-Shit. Where the hell is Monte???

I had some cute pics to post but freakin blogger is being a pain in my ass. Maybe I'll add them later.

Good lord...what do dogs dream about??? I'm thinking Norm's dream is better than the one I had about Tommy Lee last night. How come I made out with Bret and not him?

Itchy and Bitchy

I have hives. All over my back. No it is not an allergic reaction. They are stress induced and I brought them on myself. Completely.

I have to say in my younger years I didn't give a shit what people thought of me. I spoke my mind freely and passionately. I wore what I wanted. I had a great body. I flaunted it. I wasn't afraid of new situations. I welcomed the challenges.

A few years ago all that changed. I got fat. 3 babies after 30 does that. I became self conscious, anxious and insecure.

I had been quietly coping with this in my own self destructive way. However, a few months ago I joined a moms group. I lurked on the discussion board for weeks before I introduced myself. I avoided the playgroups and skipped moms night out (MNO). Before my first play date I broke out in hives everywhere. I told myself "I have my kids with me if all else fails". How pathetic a grown woman leaning on some preschoolers. But I went and it wasn't bad. I met some nice people and made some new friends. I went a few more times...no hives...despite the fact that I am older and fatter than all the other moms.

The last play date was at the apple orchard. I rearranged my whole schedule so I could go. The other "advanced maternal age" mom was there too. It started out as a good enough time. But wait...these moms are young. Skinny. Cute and fashionable.

(Note here: I happen to LOVE fashion. However fashionable clothes on a fat girl makes you look like a fat girl trying to be cute. I spend my $$$ on my kids clothes. I wear what fits. But I DO KNOW what is in style).

I began to feel anxious again. Really anxious. I had no interaction with the other moms. This was in part because I made no effort. My thought process: They think I'm old, fat and frumpy. Who knows if they thought this or not. I may be all of those things...but I'm also funny, smart and kind. I had hives when I left.

Last night was MNO. I begged Mark to watch the kids. I had to go straight from work in my scrubs. I fussed over my afro and even put on lipstick. I was the only one who showed up. I felt like a middle aged loser. I went home and cried. *Do you hear my tiny violin playing*
Peyton told me he thought I was "cool". I felt better and soothed myself with some Mango ice cream.

Now I know this was not a personal diss. Shit just happens. What I hate is that I let it consume me. What I hate more is I have let my weight change me completely. My weight has stopped me from meeting new people, from taking on new challenges and from living out my dreams. I guess it's time to do something about it.

*Yawn*

Prepare to be bored to death. I truly have nothing of interest to say at this time. I'm tired. It's rainy...which I actually enjoy but everyone else is complaining about. People are being bitchy for no apparent reason and I'm hiding in my office answering phone calls from people who should not be breeding. Any who...I've seen a couple of cool things this week and thought I would share:

• Saturday on our way to soccer at a painful 9 am I saw a woman pushing a grocery cart of food. Following close behind, a child about age 5 was pushing a stroller with a baby in it. They were at least 5 miles from the nearest grocery store...and more than 7 miles from the store whose name was on the cart. It was cold. They were singing songs and smiling. You go girl. It's early am and cold as fuck and here you are with no car taking care of business. Not siting on your ass waiting for any one to do it for you. It made me smile and if I had a bigger car I so would have picked them all up...and bought them hotdogs (long story).
• Yesterday a girl about 10 was standing at the nurses station with tears streaming down her cheeks. She was giddy and shaking. She had just watched her baby sister be born and was in total, sheer amazement.
• A father holding his baby daughter this morning. "She is so freaking cute I can't even stand it"....with tears in his eyes.
• Our local transgender. Scantily glad. Standing at a busy intersection. Hillbilly in truck staring at him..um..her. Transgender stares back. Licks lips. Sucks finger and rubs nipple. Hillbilly nearly crashes truck running light. I spit coke all over the dashboard. Peyton asks tooooo many questions for my comfort.

I think I'll go antagonize someone. Peace out.

Cookin' bacon for Jesus

My kids love to say grace-but since we are new to this whole religion thing sometimes grace is...uh...intresting to say the least. Tonight grace started an all out fist fight...because someone was "doing it wrong".

Cade- *SCREAMING* That is not what you say! You're doing it all wrong! AVA DON'T EAT YET I'M NOT DONE.

Peyton- Shut up I AM TO DOING IT RIGHT! MOM AVA IS EATING AND WERE NOT DONE.

* Both crying, kicking each other and pulling hair. Ava happily eating. Norm drooling. Amonte oblivious as usual.*

Me-I really don't think God cares what you say or how you say it as long as your thankful. For all God cares you could say "Thank God we're having bacon tonight!"

Cade- Does God like bacon? *sniffle*

Me-Who doesn't like bacon? *semi sarcastic*

Peyton-You don't.

Me-Yeah well I don't count.

Peyton-Does Jesus like bacon?

Me-Sure. Jesus like bacon too.

Cade-Can we say grace again?

Me-Yeah go ahead.

Cade- Dear God, we love bacon. Hear our prayer.

Peyton-And we are thankful for mommy cooking the bacon even though she is a vegetable.

I didn't have the heart to tell him it's "vegetarian". If the lord doesn't like bacon, I hope he has a sense of humor.

Osama's got nothing on me

Dear George W.,

Boy, that whole "weapons of mass destruction" stuff sure backfired didn't it. Just so ya know, I had them here in my house all along. They were conceived and designed with my very own blood, sweat and tears. After all the shit I took over The Pledge of Allegiance post and some anti-American hate mail-I got to thinking: maybe I have been selfish not offering up the services of my four very own, highly trained terrorists. Let me fill you in on some of their talents:

• Still need help finding Osama? Not a problem. Just drop them with in a 100 miles of his vicinity and wait for him to need some "alone time" or to eat a bowl of ice cream without sharing. They are like blood hounds...they will locate him in 30 seconds flat.
• Forget bamboo shoots under the nails. Use an audio tape of Peyton singing and or humming non-stop as he colors. No need to push repeat. After 5-10 minutes of his coloring they will be begging to spill their guts.
• Hunger strike? Who can resist a sweet little girl offering to feed you her slimy half chewed morsels? Still not interested? Don't worry she will happily force her little tidbits into their clenched mouths.
• Need a siren for an air strike? Again I have audio tape-Ava's blood curdling scream as she gets her hair brushed. An entire nation will run for cover.
• No need to bomb an area to destroy it. Simply leave the boys unsupervised. Destruction is inevitable.
• Want to punish someone? Have them take a road trip with the little darlings. After 30 miles they will be in the fetal position.
• Who needs prison? I have 1000 square feet of hell. Laundry, meals, bath time ect. I'm sure the little loves could find thousands of ways to torment and punish.
• Solitary confinement? No need my bathroom is the size of the bathtub and the terrorist HAVE to be in there if any one else is thus depriving them of any privacy or sense of personal space.

And especially for you GeorgeW, if your tired of Laura reading you the same kiddy book night after night when she tucks you in...they'll be happy to fill in for you. They like the same old book everyday for 365 days.
Sorry, guess I should have spoke up sooner.
Zoe

Fame and Fortune

Last night on the way home from my mom's I had to stop and mail some things. At the mail box:

Cade- What are we doin' here?
Me-Paying some bills.
Cade-I thought we didn't have any money? (obviously he has had the we are too broke to go to the Toy House lecture one too many time)
Amonte- Mom's been hustlin *snicker*
Cade- Mom your a hustler?
Amonte-*Laughing his ass of* Yeah, mom's a hustler.
Cade-Mom why do you work at hustler? I thought you worked at the hospital?
Amonte-*In hysterics*
Me-Uhhh. I guess I should have married better baby.


How the hell do I explain that...and how does Amonte know what Hustler is? Seriously though I am broke...do you think Hustler needs any chubby, perimenapausal, lactating cover girls?

20 months

Your Majesty,
Today you are 20 months old. It seems like just yesterday I was holding you in my arms marveling at the miracle of your birth...amazed by your tiny perfection.
At 20 months you:

• Still hardly speak. You say :"mom, hey, hi, bye and up". You can sign about 20 words. Speech is going slow. They have determined there are some muscle tone issues. More than anything I just want to hear you say "love you".
• You can't stand to for me to be upset with you. The naughty spot breaks your heart.
• When you are angry at me you refuse to make eye contact with me. I hate leaving you in the morning when you won't even look at me.
• You still don't sleep through the night. When you wake up you get right in my face and say "MOM". You demand a prompt response.
• You still nurse, probably more frequently than you should. If I tell you no you sob and are inconsolable.
• You refuse to let me feed you.
• You hate having your hair done, your diaper changed or getting dressed.
• You love to dance, to color, push your doll stroller and read books.
• You love Norm all most as much as me. Luckily he is very patient with you.
• You are obsessed with shoes and purses. Such a smart girl!

I love watching you change, learn and grow....everyday is something new. Happy 20 months funny bunny.

Norm's a little teapot

Last night I went to bed and left Norm in the living room to watch tv with Amonte. I figured just because I was off to bed didn't mean Norm had to be. I gave Amonte strict instructions to WATCH him and out him in the crate when he went to bed.

Around 1 am I was awakened by what I thought was the tune of "I'm a little teapot". But when I got oriented I heard nothing so I figured it was a weird ass dream..which I am known to have.

A few minutes later Norms nose is right in my face and he is whiny and shaking. I figured he needed to potty so I got my butt out of bed. He did not follow. I hollered for him to come on. He whined and shook. I thought maybe Sybil was being a bitch and had him cornered. No Sybil. Nothing. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the lid to Ava's teapot. WTF?

I picked it up and it played I'm a little teapot. Norm pissed on the floor. He was TERRIFIED of it. After I got done laughing at him and cleaning up the pee...that part was not funny. I went to the living room where Amonte's lazy ass was watching tv...oblivious to the fact his stupid dog had tried to eat a teapot and was urinating on the floor.

M-Amonte watch this! * push the button and play the tune*
Norm-Runs around in circles with his tail between his legs.
M-*push it again...I'm evil*
Norm-barks and hides under the chair

Repeat scenario x 5.

*Yawn*...give lid to Amonte so he can torture Norm and go back to bed.

Plan to try it again when I get home from work.

7 random thoughts

Tina at lifelovepaper: Random fun#links posted 7 random thoughts...so I feel the need to follow her lead:
1. How come when I get cinnamon on my chai latte it all sinks to the bottom...so the last swallow is chunky?
2. I have NOTHING in my fridge for dinner and no money to buy anything.
3. Fuck. I have to bring snack to soccer tomorrow. Again.
4. I hope Cade didn't have a nap today so he will go to bed at a decent time.
5. It's Friday and my stalker hasn't called me all week with any breastfeeding crisis.
6. My ovaries hurt. Must be ovulating.
7. God I am bitchy.

No Wire Hangers EVER!!!!

Ok, ladies and gentleman. It's time for our final award of the night. This was a close one. But after careful consideration and review of the tapes the Mommy Dearest Award goes to.....drumroll.....Zoe from Michigan Center!!!! *The crowd goes wild...camera flashes to Zoe sobbing in her chair* Come on up her Zoe and accept your golden hanger! *Zoe crawls to the stage sniffling* Ya know you weren't even in the top ten until Monday....lets show the tape!
*On the big screen: Zoe screaming, screaming some more...throwing a half eaten croc at the dog...more screaming...kids getting in the car to go to church....camera zooms in on Peyton-looking soooo pitiful. Tear tracks on his dirty cheeks. "Mommy, when you are so angry, I feel like you don't even want to be my mommy."* Go a head Zoe give us a few words! *Zoe takes golden hanger and beats announcer to a bloody pulp in a tearful fit of rage.*

Seriously, I'm a screamer. I hate this about myself. I never used to be and I swore I never would become my mother...but I have. I know I have to stop. I desperately want to stop. The regret I feel after an "episode" is so deep, so painful...its cuts into my soul...it weakens me...it breaks my heart.

In a lot of the blogs I read lately there seems to be this theme of being overwhelmed....engulfed in the daily chaos of our lives. Struggling to breathe. Wanting to be good mothers and fighting our inner demons. I know I'm not alone in this...but I feel so alone. I feel like I am on the fringe..like all the "other mothers" are so capable. I just feel tired. Some days I just want to let the chaos, the despair swallow me...but I know my kids deserve so much more. I want them to have so much more. So I struggle, I apologize, I pray, I read, learn and examine. I hope when it is all said and done...I am good enough. Worthy enough to be their mother...which is a job I covet more than anything.

I'm too sexy for my shirt

Cade never wears a shirt or much else for that matter. But if he is hot or wants to be comfy the first thing that comes off is his shirt. Sunday we were at my parents and he was shirtless as usual. My stepdad kept teasing him "I like your shirt"..."That's a cool shirt! Where did you get it?". Cade would laugh and then ask me about his "shirt". After several hours of this I didn't feel like playing along anymore.

Grandpa-Cool shirt Cade where did you get it?
Cade-Momma where did you get my cool shirt?
Me-In utero.
Cade-*Thinks this is hysterical even though he has no clue what it means-Now walks around the house the rest of the night singing* In UTEROOOooooo.

So I'm getting ready for work this am and I'm curling my hair in just my pants and a bra...Peyton walks in and real sarcastically says "Cool shirt mom...where'd ya get it in grandmas UFO?"

What a dork. I got it where all fat lactating women get their huge nursing bras...Target.

Cage fight

Monday I thought I was pretty damn slick and locked Norm in the kitchen while I was at work. When Amonte got home from school Norm was still in there although he had poo'd everywhere. Seeing as Amonte is an oblivious teenager with his own agenda he noticed nothing else. However, when I got home I discovered that the little bastard had jumped the gate, opened the closet and ate another pair of crocs, my last pair of flip flops and yet another pair of soccer cleats. And the ass did it in my bed leaving chunks of plastic all over. Instead of beating him to death which truly was my deepest desire...I went to Meijer and bought him a crate (that is another whole story). I was worried he would resist it but he was very accepting. It's sooooo nice to go to sleep/work and not have to worry about what trouble he is getting into. But he is paying me back in subtle ways...he has stopped eating the cat litter.

Oh my Dog

• 3 pairs of Crocs-$60
• 2 cell phone chargers-$50
• 3 pairs of shin guards-$30
• 1 pair of soccer cleats-$35
• 1 Kenneth Cole diaper bag-$75
• 2 pairs of flip flops-$18
• 1 stuffed bear-$15
• 1 Genevieve stuffed dog-$22
• 2 stuffed lobsters-$14
• 5 books-$45
• 7 action figures-$72
• 1 hospital trip-$298
• 1 neuter-$150
• 1 flea dip/grooming-$45

Having a dog who cleans the cat litter box and his own poo from the backyard: PRICELESS.

What do you mean it's not Johnny Depp?

Today Mary posted about her Fav thing being Netflix (my current fave right now is Edys Mango ice cream..double delicious yum). I have been considering getting Netflix for over a year now to prevent incidents such as the following:

Last summer Pirates of the Caribbean 2 was coming out and none of us had seen the first one. Amonte, his BFF Tyler and 2 boys I was babysitting for asked me to pick it up at the rental. In a hurry I ran in and did a quick survey of the movies. Ahha! I spoted Pirates right away. Handsome Johhny Depp and that wench Kiera Knightly grace the cover. I rented it immediately, took it home, threw it on the counter and forgot about it.

The next am:

Mark-Um, who rented that video?
M-What video?
Mark-The one on the counter (rolling his eyes).
M-Oh yeah, I rented that for the boys. They wanted to see it before the second one comes out.
Mark-Really. What movie did you rent exactly?
M-Pirates of the Caribean..WTF..can't you read?
Mark-That is NOT what you rented.
M-Why is there a different movie in the box ????(totally pissed about that thought)
Mark-No. There is a pirate movie in that box.
Me-Yeah dumb ass. Pirates of the Caribbean....you know with Johnny Depp?
*The kids hear and run in..."Can we watch it now?"
Me- Sure!
Mark-I wouldn't advise it.
Me- What is your fucking problem?
Mark-Come here and see this...kids wait in the kitchen.
* Mark pops dvd in. HOLY GIANT BOOB ENHANCEMENT! HOLY NAKED PORN STARS!
Man who looks like Johhny Depp-Whose a naughty pirate hunter (in booming voice)
2 naked wenches-1 who looks like Kiera-in singsong unison- YOU ARE!
* Hysterical laughter from the kitchen
Me-Um. So not Pirates of the Caribbean.
Mark-What was your first clue?

Netflix may be just what I need.

Ah relief.

As usual I woke up late today. I got out of bed and stepped on a scraggly piece of plastic Norm had been chewing on. I did not have time to figure out where it had come from. My legs were in knots from Cade sleeping on them all night and my neck was stiff from Ava sleeping under my chin. I jumped in the shower...lathered my hair...what no lather? Ahhhh. Had put a huge glob of expensive face soap with exfoliaters into my hair. Rinse a zillion time while standing on one foot...other foot being used to hold down the lever to the tub drain so I don't have to shower in 6 inches of water. Race around. Realize my only set of keys are locked in the car. Shove a kid through a half open window. Drop off a screaming Ava. Pull in the school parking lot and realize Cade has no money in his account. Go across the street to the ATM. Get flipped off by some bitch who thought she was in line a head of me...long story...I live in freaking hillbilly land I swear. Take the boys into childcare. Leave Cade's lunch money in the car. Walk back to the car...realize lunch money is in my pocket. Drive to work and miss the shuttle. Arrive at work..LATE...again. Luckily nobody care as only 1 solitary patient is breastfeeding. Normally that would piss me off...but today it is just a relief.

My thoughts today...

This morning as I was leaving the school I heard something I haven't heard in years...The Pledge of Allegiance. It got me thinking.

Here is my disclaimer: I may totally piss some people off with this. I welcome your comments though, good or bad...because I am a comment whore.

I started school in PA. The pledge came on over the loud speaker every am and the entire school rose, with their hand over their heart and recited it. My friend Renee and I once had a giggle fit during the pledge and lost recess for a week.

When we moved to MI. there was no pledge at school. No flag day celebrations either. Then today as I was dropping Cade off I heard the pledge coming from a classroom.

My question/thought is...does this pledge contribute to the American way of thinking that we are "the best"...that we are "right"...that we "matter" at any cost?

No, I do not hate America. I just acknowledge that "our way" isn't always the best way. I acknowledge that other cultures have values and belief systems that are kinder and gentler.

There is a whole wave of hatred for America. Do we deserve it? (check out I hate America )
Are we indivisible? Does being so mean we have to support the war...the culture of bigger and better...the "us vs. them" thinking?

Family Fun

Saturday afternoon we went to Flavor Fruit Farms with my moms group in spite of my anxiety about dragging my fat ass out in public to meet new people. It was moderately stressful but the kids actually behaved fairly well and they did not ask us to "never return again". Of course I was the spoil sport mom and wouldn't let them ride the elephant P-"I know elephants aren't for entertainment" or drink the unpasteurized apple cider P-"I know my kidneys will die". We ate a ton of donuts and all in all it was a nice day. Thought I would share a few photo highlights:

Ava looking at the elephant. No that is not my fat ass in the background...I am taking the photo. OK?


Peyton hanging out in a tractor tire.



Cade in some stunna shades.



And finally, the picture of my boys that melts my heart and fills me with pride:


No, Peyton really wasn't flipping me off and yes Cade can touch the bottom of his chin and his nose with his tongue. I am so terribly proud.

Silent in Center

Ava Judge (Her Majesty) is nearing 20 months. 20 nearly silent months. She says about 5 words and signs about 15. We know that she could not hear from 6 months to 9 months due to huge effusions in both ears. However her hearing has been retested and is completely normal. She has had a speech eval and they have determined there is no reason she can not talk. She simply will not and why should she? Her brothers are more than happy to do it for her.

Two weeks ago during speech theraphy Ava did not utter a single solitary peep. Then we went to Target and she said "HI" to everyone in the store. I looked like one of those idiots in the commercials encouraging people to talk/read to their kids. Reading every sign, telling her the name, color, use of anything we passed. She would sign or make a noise and I would be all excited. These two old women looked at me sadly like "ohhh, her poor baby is special". Yeah she is special...but not "special" ok!

Last week we got a few peeps at speech therapy. At the checkout at Target (yeah I go EVERY week) the cashier said "does she talk yet?" NOOOOO. Not yet. Yeah I guess the fact the cashier recognizes us is an indicator its self of a problem.

Then we went to Michael's. Cashier-"Oh she is getting so big! Is she talking yet?" NOOOOO. Um and apparently an indicator of yet another problem...are we seeing a shopping related theme here?

I have been asked:

• Do you talk to her? Um yeah dumb ass. Can't ya tell-nobody puts her majesty in the corner.
• Do you read to her? Yeah I have a freaking library. She can sign the word for book. What do you think?
• Maybe you should put her in speech. Thanks but she is...2 silent times a week.
• Oh you poor dear, is your baby deaf? My answer to this was just NO. The woman looked confused but I signed "weirdo" to Ava and we kept going.

She is special. Especially spoiled. She will talk when she is ready and I'm ok with that...why can't everyone else be?

Sad but so true

I got this from Tiffany: I'm not much of a drinker now, due to the fact I have been pregnant and or breastfeeding for over 6 years...but back in the day it was so me!

SCORPIO (Oct 24 - Nov 21)Drinking style: Don't ever tell Scorpios they've had enough, for they'll smirk at you and quietly but intentionally keep tippling till they're hog-whimpering drunk, out of 100-proof spite. Scorpios like to drink, and screw you if you have a problem with that. Most of them see the sauce as some thing to savor in itself, and not as a personality-altering tool - though if depressed, self-loathing Scorps seek total obliteration. But generally, they're fascinating drinking pals, brilliant conversationalists and dizzying flirts. They also remember everything -- especially what you did when you were blitzed. Only drink with a Scorpio who likes you.

Missing the science gene

As you could see from my 8th grade science test I am not a rocket scientist. I am afraid that I may have unintentionally passed this to my offspring in the form of some type of genetic mutation...most likely caused by the excessive consumption of chai lattes during the early months of pregnancy.

The other night we were in the kitchen having dinner (yeah it was a hot -n- ready pizza...but that still qualifies as dinner and we were all eating together which adds nutritional value to any meal) when Peyton noticed a bee. Now a year ago this would have required us to activate our emergency evacuation plan and administer an obscene amount of benadryl to act as a sedative. But since the "cool" kid on the bus catches them with his hat and kills them this is no longer an issue.

P-Hey! Catch that bee! I want some honey on my pizza.
M-Eww. Honey on pizza? Besides how do I get the honey?
P- Duh! You don't know?
M-No, please tell me.
P-You squeeze it from their butts!
M- Really, I thought it came from a hive.
P-NOOO. You squeeze it from their butts. But you might want to kill it first cause they get really mad....just like you do when daddy smacks your butt.

Hopefully he will excel in math.