OOOOhhhh NNNNooo!!!!

That is what I have heard for the past four days. None Stop. Her Majesty is in the hospital. Cade has strep. Amonte has to have surgery. Blogging to resume when crisis has passed.

The Rumor Mill

At different periods of my life I have been the subject of much gossip. Some deserved and some not so much. It pretty much came to a screeching halt several years ago-when I went and got all domesticated. However, over the past few months I am once again a hot topic of conversation. I'm like a freaking celebrity. I half expect to see my picture sans panties on the front of Big Medicines monthly newsletter. The sad thing is that NONE of it and I mean NONE of it is even remotely true. Not only that but the reporter is a so called friend. Yeah. Can everyone say "High school" with me?

In my younger years I may have drank too much and got all up in her grill. But now that I'm grown up (maybe that is a stretch) I tend to take a deep breath, get all zen and let it go. This particular bit of drama is not only outrageous but could potentially damage my career. Not sure that would be any great loss but a paycheck sure is swell. So it must be addressed.

I would have thought that at this point in my life this is the last thing I would be dealing with. Apparently though some people never out grow it. Maybe because they have never been held accountable for their bullshit. Perhaps they don't realize the impact that their tales have. Maybe they do know and they just don't care. What ever.

The fact is that most gossipers will deny to their last breath that they said a solitary word. I think that speaks highly to someone character. I learned the hard way-if you say it-you own it. I live by that. Too bad others don't.

Never Surrender

I feel as if I am surrounded by sabatogers. Waiting in the distance for a crack in the armour. Not just working against me, but people and their dreams in general. I'm fighting against my internal underminings. Waging war against workplace subversion. Defending those whose wishes are repeatedly ignored and deamened. I shall not wave my white flag. So if you don't have anything nice or positive to say or if you're simply too ignorant to know how defeating your words are- go find some place else to play.

Ticketmaster Sucks

So much for seeing His Holiness. For some reason there was an issue with Ticketmaster and now all of the seats are sold out. Well, that is a lie-they do have some $1000 donor seats. Do you think anyone might be selling them outside??? I Wonder if Mom will babysit anyway.....

Chunks anyone?

You may have notice from yesterdays post that I was not having a good day. I did manage to get the kids in bed on time and I had just settled down in front of the computer when I heard it. Gagging. I turned around and there is Cade "Me not feel good" in a whiny little voice. I tried to race him to the bathroom but he vomited all over the kitchen floor. While I was cleaning that up (and trying to keep Norm from eating it) he vomited in the bathroom sink. Plugging it up with chunks. Have I mentioned before that I don't do vomit?

I managed to get everything cleaned up with out hurling myself and put him on the couch to watch Casper. When Mark got home from work I warned him that Cade was on the couch and not feeling well. Within 5 minutes Mark was back "we have a problem". When he carried Cade to bed he noticed a horrid smell. Peyton had thrown up in his sleep. It was everywhere. He was covered. Mark actually asked me "should we wake him up?" Are you fucking kidding me???? No let's let him sleep in puke all night.

I woke Peyton and showered him. This time I did blow chunks as it smelled really bad and he was plastered with it. I even had to dig it out of one ear. While I cleaned up the bathroom Mark let Peyton drink an entire bottle of water. Guess who puked in his bed 15 minutes later?

It was a lovely end to a stellar day. Luckily today was emesis free. Just complaints of ouchie tummies.

Now here is the questions:

• How the hell do you vomit in your sleep and never even wake up?
• Aside from a time when you were so hammered you passed out-have any of you ever done this?
• What is the best way to clean chunks of clothes and bedding before you wash it? In the summer I use the hose and power blast it off. Luckily for me Norm managed to gobble some of it off the laundry before I got to it.
• Is there anything that gets that rank smell out-once carpet cleaner has failed?

Help a sister out!!!

I have a wedgie

I have seriously had my panties in a wad all day. I did have a nice, happy, ray of sunshine post planned but I am so not in the mood. My mother always told me if I didn't have anything nice to say I should keep my mouth shut. But I feel like venting. Since my freaking kids don't listen to me I guess you'll have to.

• Does it not bother anyone else that our home is a total pigsty??? How do you just continue to live in this house and ignore it? Why is all the cleaning my responsibility? Have you people no shame?
• Amonte is still sleeping. He stayed up till 7 am. He has been ignoring his school work and trying to start bullshit between me and the sperm donor.
• I can't stand people that think just because they made the rules that the rules don't apply to them.
• I seriously need Nanny 911. My kids are out of control. They are making me totally insane. I feel like a referee in a cage match.
• I'm going to rip Norm's voice box out if he doesn't SHUT UP.
• I'm completely and totally broke.
• Again with the housework. The laundry is piled up, the sink is full of dishes and the trash is full. Nobody. Cares.
• I have a meeting at work tomorrow that I do not even want to begin to deal with.
• Why do I even bother to cook when nobody will eat it?
• How come it's never my day to sleep in?

See I told you I was on a mission today...and it's not even shark week. Can you imagine what I bitch about when it is. And before you going feeling sorry for my kids that they were stuck at home all day let me give you the run down on them:

• 2 poopy diapers
• 1 refusal to wipe own butt
• 3 baths
• bathroom flooded x 2
• snacks, snacks and more snacks
• screams of "I'm hungry" only to turn their noses up at dinner
• 1 lazy ass teenager snoring in my chair
• numerous time outs
• dog food all over the kitchen floor
• danimals all over the carpet
• 100 tattles
• 6 meltdowns
• 1 short nap
• a daughter covered head to toe in push up pop who then climbed in my bed
• teenagers socks in living room floor
• 2 searches for missing game boy
• stop breathing on me, stop looking at me
• poop humor all day long
• the new name to call is "ugly mutt"
• 1 pack of shredded diaper wipes
• 1 box of wheat thins newly opened dumped in the garbage can
• 1 girl covered in ink moments after bath
• transformer picked up from paint your own pottery last night now has broken arm
• 1 smashed lipstick
• whining. whining and more whining.

Do you want me to keep going? Or are you ready to drink yet. That sounds like a good idea. I have one tiny 6 oz bottle of wine left. I'm a light weight so that should do. Cheers.

Uncle!!!!!!

Today my babysitter, who is also an awesome friend took the 3 little ones to church with her and kept them for the afternoon so I could be at the hospital with Amonte. His sperm donor came in the afternoon and stayed for the dressing change so I was able to run home and do a load of laundry before I had to get the terrorists.

We ordered a pizza and noshed on some yummies my good friend and job partner J made for us. Then we finished up Cade's family project and the boys painted some models they have been wanting to do. Of course Peyton left his paint unattended and Her Majesty smeared it all over her new dress and the table. But seriously, the least of my worries.

Right at bed time the phone started ringing. Amonte was calling from the hospital in horrible pain. To make a long story short they had to do an additional dressing change and it was not pretty. They gave him a Vicoden, doubled his dose of Demerol and gave him 2 doses of Ativan before they could get the pain managed. This was the same scenario I was faced with Wednesday night when I only had the option of Vicoden.

I called his dad and told him to get his ass up there ASAP. Of course he took his sweet ass time so Amonte called and so did his nurse. I called him again and he said Amonte told him not to come. He wanted me. I had 2 kids in bed and one on her way to dreamland. Another on the phone bawling. Nobody, not a single person that I could call to help. I sat on the phone and cried with my son. Then I cried till I was sick and sat by the phone waiting for the nurse to call me back.

I have plenty of people who offer to help. But honestly, when the people that should be helpful and supportive are not- how on earth do you ask anyone else? Plus what do I say? Ummm, yeah I haven't had time to clean my toilet in a month, the laundry is piled up to the ceiling, I really need a nap, my dog needs a bath. I mean are you kidding me? Asking for help and being totally ashamed is just not appealing. Asking for help and being told "no" or worse yet ignored is even worse.

But worse yet, Amonte will most likely be discharged from the hospital tomorrow. How the hell will I mange this dressing on oral pain meds? Alone.

A comment on comments

I have said it before and I will say it again. I am a comment whore. I love them. Need them. Want them. As my dotcomrade Driving with the brakes on put it "blogger's validation is better than crack". Uh...at least we think so.

That being said I know I have some lurkers (Hey Wicker, CoCo, Mom!!!!!). Leave a comment you freaks.

Also, I make every attempt to comment directly to your comments. If you aren't on blogger, or your profile does not show your email I can not respond to you directly. I try to respond in my comments but for some reason I am just not good about commenting on my comments. Does that make any sense? Feel free to send me your e-mail if you would like and I will reply to you directly. Otherwise Know that I read and love all your thoughts.

Except for the ones that smell like the chicken breasts that got lost under my seat in the middle of the summer for a week. You suck. If you continue to send me e-mails questioning my faith (because I swear, love gays and am pro choice) and telling me I'm a suck ass parent...Know this. I will post your hate mail on my blog for the world to see with your address. I will then send you every piece of junk e-mail and chain letters that I get everyday for the rest of your miserable life. If that is not scary enough...I will hand deliver my little terrorists right to your front door and leave them with you for an entire day. That should be enough to make you re-examine your holier than though, narrow minded, ignorant, rotten chicken point of view. Or at least make you stop sharing it with me.

Ok, now to do the deep breathing witchypoo taught me. Feelin' the love now.

Lovin' ya all! Except one pious dickhead.

XOXO

Zoe

If a cat craps in the woods.....

Can I just give you an idea of the shit I am dealing with here at the love shack?

Sunday.

I asked Mark to vacuum and then he ran to the store for me. No biggie. No complaining. Task completed.

On his way out the door to work he asks " Are you going to Target today?" to which I respond "Hell no, these kids are psychos I'm not taking them anywhere" in a ever so sweet voice. Mark: "Oh we need cat litter" and he leaves for work.

An hour later I go to the back of the shack to find the closet where the cats do their thing closed. The cats are pacing back and forth and getting bitchy. I open the closet to find the cat litter box tipped upside down. Odd huh? So I flip it over and......it's....are you ready...totally freaking empty. Are you kidding me?????

Luckily for me my friend CoCo was on her way over and she nabbed me a bag of litter. Thus saving my cats from a certain death if I had to clean up piss.

Mark came home from work with...guess what...NO cat litter. When I sweetly mentioned the fact that the cats had NOTHING to defecate in he tersely responded "I told you we needed litter."

Am I crazy but telling me nonchalantly that "oh we need litter" and ""hey the litter box is bare ass empty" are two different things. NO?

Bite me

You may have noticed that I skipped a day...or maybe you didn't. Anyway. I have been trying my damnedest to keep up with this whole daily blogging Naplo???? *whatever it is called* and I have done a pretty swell job. With the exception of the night that I was in a cold medicine induced coma I have been chugging right along. even when I had nothing to say and had to wait an hour for my old broke ass computer to boot up...I still blogged my little heart out. But yet, I have not been able to add my site to their web roll. Why you might ask? Because despite my attempts to do on numerous occasions and on 3 separate computers...every time I click on web log it crashes my computer...or my friends. So ya know what? Last night when I was so tired and I was already in bed snuggling the adorable Ava...I stayed there. My daily run is over.

Fire! Fire!

I'm so glad that I am able to entrust the care of my children to "professionals" and family. Lets take yesterday for an example of the stellar care my boys are getting:

I arrived at childcare to get Cade and found a note taped in his locker. It read :Dear Mrs. Carpenter, Cade complained all days that his eyes were burning and he was crying at nap time. First I hate being called Mrs. Carpenter. Second, did ya think to call me? When I walk in the class I know instantly why his eyes are burning. His face is beat red and he was burning up. At home his temp read 102 axillary (under the arm people). Huh. My eyes burn to when I'm on FIRE.

Peyton hates to go to childcare, especially after school. He does not like to ride the pig bus and wants to ride the zebra bus home (as you recall he made that decision his self a week ago). Since Amonte is nearly 16 and is done with cross country we agreed he would get Peyton off the bus on school days and I would pay him what I pay childcare. I mean seriously...get him off the big yellow bus, that drives right pass the house and plop him on noodle net until I get home...maybe throw him a little snack? How bad can ya fuck that up? Yeah, pretty bad. He did NOT get Peyton off the bus. He was on the toilet when the bus went by. The back door was locked so Peyton had to beat on it to get Amonte to finally get his ass off the computer (never mind that he lost all computer privileges weeks ago). Then he wouldn't let Peyton play noodle net as promised because as Peyton so lovingly tattled "he was on My Face looking at girls with big boobs"-NICE. Peyton ate 1/2 a bag of mini marshmallows for snack and fell asleep on the couch. The dog did not get fed because quote "I was too busy watching Peyton". The mail did not get brought in because "he didn't know if the new mail box was ours". No, I am not kidding.

Maybe I should train darling Norm to guard the kids. He may be my best option.

Tis the season

I missed posting yesterday. I had truly planned on it. This should explain why:

On the first day of Christmas,My true love sent to me a digital thermometer.
On the second day of Christmas,My true love sent to me Two albuteral inhalers.
On the third day of Christmas,My true love sent to me Three pounds of Tylenol.
On the fourth day of Christmas,My true love sent to me Four quarts of Nyquil.
On the fifth day of Christmas,My true love sent to me Five golden boxes of kleenex.
On the sixth day of Christmas,My true love gave to me Six gallons of chicken noodle soup.
On the seventh day of Christmas,My true love gave to me Seven garbage bags of cough drops.
On the eighth day of Christmas,My true love gave to me Eight shipments of Robitussin.
On the ninth day of Christmas,My true love gave to me Nine Vicks vapor rub massages.
On the tenth day of Christmas,My true love gave to meTen tons of Sudafed.
On the eleventh day of Christmas,My true love gave to me Eleven filled prescriptions.
On the twelfth day of Christmas,My true love gave to me Twelve medical excuses from work.

Salesmen from hell

Yesterday I had the misfortune have a garage sale with my children present. This was a bad idea for numerous reasons. It was not a particularly busy day and I really needed to make as much money as I could since I desperately need to buy the boys back to school clothes. I had hoped that Mark would keep them in the house at least until he went to work but apparently that makes anchoring the couch to the floor to difficult so he sent them all outside.

• Woman looking at shirt of Cade's. "Hey Peyton that's the shirt I was wearing when you made me laugh and chocolate milk shot out my nose!" Woman puts shirt back.
• Woman looking at Peyton's shirt. "Mom how come every time I used to wear that shirt I would puke?" Woman puts shirt back.
• Woman looking at Ava's dress. "Mom that's the dress Ava was wearing when she pooped out her diaper at Meijers." No sale on the dress.
• Peyton riding my body by jake ab scissor. P-"How come you never use this mom?" M-"I got pregnant with Ava right after I bought it" P-"What does it do?" M-"It makes your tummy flat." Peyton to the heavy woman standing by him-"You should buy this!" She left with nothing.
• Woman picks up toy that Ava has never played with and has ignored all day. Ava reaches for it screaming bloody murder and falls to the ground. Woman hands her the toy and leaves with nothing.

So much for back to school clothes.