What is Springtime without the PLAGUE???

Come on over, I'll bleach ya!

The plague has attacked my home. Thursday Ms. Diva threw up in her sleep. I woke up thinking she was just coughing but something made me check her. She was covered in it…and the poor thing didn't even wake up. Too bad I had to wake her up to get her cleaned. It was 1:30 a.m. Just as soon as I put the second set of pj's on her, up came some more. Fun. I camped out in the living room with her so that she could just puke on the floor and I could clean it easily. We didn't get back to sleep till 5:45.  Little Man went with Daddy to the sitter so he wouldn't catch it.

HA.

Saturday it hit Daddy and Little Man. Both of them were laid out with things coming very quickly out of both ends. (I'm sure Daddy will appreciate my sharing that with you.) As of yesterday, they could both eat again without worrying. Diva is better but her bottom is still kinda mushy, but only once a day, so that's okay…

The funny thing that I noticed while I was talking to Daddy was how we evolve as mothers. When Little Man had the plague for the very first time I cried every time he threw up and I was on the phone with the pediatrician every hour asking about pedialyte and dehydration and such things. The second time it hit, I was pregnant with Diva, I was throwing up right alongside Little Man. This time around (Little Man's third time and Diva's first time.) I just made sure the floor was clear of any toys and clothes before they leaned over. I had the mop set in hot water, the Ajax bottle next to it, and the bottle of Lysol handy.  I knew they wouldn't make it to the toilet so why bother making a longer trail for me to clean?

 How horrible is that?

 

*groan*

I hate that I can't write about work. Do you know how exciting this place would be if you guys knew what was going on everyday?

 I actually saw a fellow co-worker on blogger the other day, I think she was just reading, though, but I'm not too sure. I really wouldn't want to tell her about mine, because then I wouldn't be able to talk freely about things knowing she would be reading…

I may have to ask her like I'm just curious, and see if she writes and see if she has been getting away with it for the past four years she's been here…

My home life is boring right now. Work is where the dirt is…

 

Magic Words

Sometimes people don't do anything to anyone else, and they get provoked anyway. Sometimes all you want to do is stay out of everyone's way and live your own life, and take care of what you have to take care of, and people still fuck with you.

I'm tired.

Daddy's sister is provoking me to the point that I envision myself jumping on her and kicking her face in. Bad, isn't it? I keep trying to ignore it, I keep trying to stay away, but she seeks me out.

There was almost an incident last night and if I hadn't left the house I would have pushed her down the stairs. It's horrible because she lives on the second floor of where I live, it's not like I can totally avoid her.

Daddy knows I'm trying so hard to stay away, he knows I don't say a word to her, and she still…

I'm tired.

 

Daddy said the magic words I've been dying to hear for so long…

"Let's move out."

 

He finally understands. What breaks my heart is that my MIL called me the other day, crying and asking me why Daddy said the things he said…I had no idea what she was talking about. She told me he had told the Bitch upstairs that he was going to move far away and they weren't going to be seeing him. At first it didn't click. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks…he's tired too. My MIL is not a bad person, I don't know why he would have said none of them were going to see us…so I asked Daddy where he planned on going that we weren't going to see her anymore…"Anywhere. Just far from here. Wanna move out of state?"

 

I wouldn't mind moving out of state, I just hate leaving everyone behind. Massachusetts isn't too far, neither is Connecticut…I'll probably look around there.

I'm tired.

 

GRRRRRRRR

I've found the word that is worse and more annoying than "No."

 

"Why?"

 

Oh. My. GOD. It's like fingernails on a chalkboard. At first I was answering him and telling him why…but then it started being asked after everything.

 

"Little Man, come in the room so we can get you dressed."

"Why?"

 

"Little Man, can you put this in the fridge, please."

"Why?"

 

"Good night, baby."

"Why?"

 

 

GRRRRR!!!!

Stop it! I hate it! Yeah, kids are curious and whatnot but this is just ridiculous!

 

Hate it hate it hate it hate it…

 

 

Awesome it transferred…I love this handwriting style. It's actually what my real handwriting is like. (If it's not really legible to you let me know…)

 

So my children are not baptized yet and I get a lot of shit about it from (who else???) MY MOTHER. She grew up in a family that the child had to be baptized within the first year of life. No if, ands or buts about it. My son is three and a half. My daughter in ten months old (today!) and I still have not gone to church to have them baptized. I'm evil. I'm going to burn in hell.

I have actually already gone to the church and spoken to the priest about getting them baptized and it looks like it will be done in May even though I am the evil incarnate and never attend church services.

But here's what gets me…I am not the religious type by far. I don't go to church. God and I have…an understanding let's say. I have had my time in church and things happened and I decided to stop going. I never stopped believing in God. I did yell and scream and blame God when the miscarriages happened, I doubted, don't we all? Don't we all have our issues with this higher power…?

The other day my mother sends me an e-mail about the baptisms, (I would copy and paste it but it's in Spanish) and at the end she said something along the lines of my son always being sick because he hasn't been baptized.

Here's where my issues come up- my son has no say over getting baptized, so why is he being punished with his allergies and his asthma and all his other crap if I'm the one who hasn't baptized him? Is he being punished for my lack of attendance in religious services?

She thinks that the higher powers do this to people who 'disobey', that they get punished.

Chalk this up to my incompetence as a mother.

Anybody got any points of view? I don't want an argument about religion here…I'm not trying to push buttons, but I'm curious to see what people think about this particular sitch.

 

Meanwhile there is no change on things with my aunt. Things are really not looking well. And I have no money to go out there for the funeral…

 

 

testing....again

I just want to see if this handwriting style transfers over….

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My aunt in Puerto Rico. She is this beautiful, loving, full-of-life woman who ended up with an asshole of a husband and three of the bestest children.

She is in a coma. The doctors put her into this coma so they could figure out why she is having seizures. They won't take her out of the coma. They don't think she will make it if they do.

Arrangements are being made for her mentally-challenged daughter and adopted grand-daughter (so that would make her her daughter, right?) to go live with another aunt of mine.

My mother's favorite sister, the one she was closest to growing up…she lived with her after the birth of all three of her children to help her out (this was before my mother even got married) and after moving to the US always went back every. single. summer to visit her.

She has diabetes (it runs in the family, most of the siblings have it) and she had to have both her legs cut off within the last five years.

There's something else they want to do, some kind of exploratory surgery to look in her heart…but the seizures are preventing them from doing that. My grandmother passed away during an exploratory heart surgery when I was five. History is trying to repeat it self. My mother says it's a good thing that they can't do the surgery…that way she won't go the way their mother did…but a cousin of mine that has been at the hospital says it's looking bad either way.

Fucking Shit.

 

GREEN

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Can someone tell me- does green beer taste the same as regular beer? I've never had it…not planning to, but still curious…

 

Happy St. Pat's to you all…

 

My son decided that he wanted to sleep on the futon all by himself last night. I had mixed feelings about this, as this boy has slept by my side for the past 3 years, ever since that fateful day he decided he didn't want to sleep in his crib at the tender age of 6 months old. So I put the Cartoon Network on for him, tucked him in and gave him his sippy while I washed Daddy's clothes. (Those gross things get their own special laundry time….frikkin car guys and their grease.) He wasn't even asleep yet and I was checking in on him every five minutes. Daddy had Diva in the room, trying (BEGGING) to get her to sleep. At some point he did fall asleep, and I took the sippy away and made sure the couch cushions were on the floor in case he fell or something. I was nervous. Laundry finished, Demon Diva still not asleep, I lay down next to Daddy and start asking "Should I just bring him in here?" "Do you think he will get scared if he wakes up and doesn't feel us next to him?" "He'll wake the baby if he wakes up crying." "Are you listening to me???"

At 11:30 the girl finally fell asleep, after much fighting. I got up for last call to the bathroom and as I was walking back to the room, shutting lights off behind me when I hear shuffling on the floor. I look back and there was my little man, rubbing his eyes and waiting for me to move out of his way so he can go to my bed.

I smiled at Daddy.

As much as I talk shit about wanting that boy outta my bed, I still felt funny about leaving him on the futon.

And then this morning when he kicked me in the ribs for the fourth time I wished he had stayed on the futon…

But this gave me a glimpse into the future, when we finally move and he gets his own room and bed, I know he'll be coming into our bed for a while before he sleeps on his own. I just hope it doesn't take too long.

 

 

*I do want to apologize for the junk that comes up under my posts. I forget to type the 'secret code' to stop that from showing up. When you blog from e-mail, there are certain things you're supposed to do to get your posts to look normal. I'm a loser and forget to do half the things…

 

Common Courtesy VS. Pure Evil

It's common courtesy to not block an entrance when you're stopped at a red light. A driveway, a gas station entrance, whatever, right?

Well, this morning I was coming out of a gas station, with my left turning signal on, but it was a green light for traffic so I waited for the light to turn red. I was inching out as the cars were coming to a stop, and there was room for me to come out. But there was this woman, this fucking bitch of a woman with a shiny red Saab who came FROM THE OTHER LANE to block me in the goddamn gas station. I flipped out. I was screaming at her, but my window was up and she didn't get to hear all the nice colorful things I was calling her. What's evil is that right after she blocked me in, she looked at me and kinda smirked. That's actually what prompted my tirade.

People are so stupid it's unbelievable!

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Blahblahblah

We have two birthday parties in one day coming up. One is here, for Googlio and Skinny Bitch's son, (I can't link…sorry if you don't know who they are) and the other is for my best friend's twins, in CT. For some reason the timing on them is actually perfect enough that I don't have to pull my hair out from stress, because Baby Googlio's party is over two hours before the other one starts, which gives us enough time to make the hour-and-a-half trip to CT.

 

The other day my son asked me a question, which I can't even remember now just from sheer shock- whatever I answered him was not satisfactory and he replied by sighing then saying "Oh my Gosh!" I didn't have to look at him to know that he rolled his eyes. I didn't know what to say…

 

My daughter still doesn't have teeth. She's nine and a half months old and still smiles her toothless old lady smile. I can see the formation of the teeth, the white marks are there, but they won't break skin. Those teeth are pissing me off…I have the feeling they are what still keeps her getting up in the middle of the night.

 

I hear a ticking noise coming from my computer…is it going to blow up?

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My mother= the reason I think I'm incompetent as a mother

I often wonder what the hell it is that goes through my mother's head…

Little Man was crying that he wanted to stay at Grandma's house all week, so Saturday night off he went to grandmother's house. I went to pick him up Sunday afternoon and brought Ms. Diva with me so my mother could see her. As soon as I took Diva's coat off, my mother says "Oh, I see you had a bath today…and they even washed your hair."

Um….duh? I give my children baths daily, if not then at least every other day. I kept my mouth shut, but then I noticed that when my mother picked Diva up, she looked at her a little closely. "She has a beauty mark on her neck?" My mother asked me. I wrinkled my eyebrows at her, "Yeah, mom, she's had that since she was born." The beauty mark is about the size of a pea, noticeable if you look closely as it's a little faded now. What my mother did next is what killed me. She ran her finger over my daughter's neck, Mary Poppin's with a white glove-style, checking to see if the beauty mark was DIRT. Wait for it…then she smelled her finger.

Are you fucking kidding me?

I had to ask… "Mother, why did you just do that?"

She noticed my voice…she laughed.

SHE LAUGHED.

"Just checking" she said.

WHAT?

WHHHAAAAAATTTTTT?

Checking to see if I was lying about A BEAUTY MARK? Checking to see if IT WAS DIRT? CHECKING TO SEE IF MY DAUGHTER'S NECK SMELLED FUNKY???

WTF???

 

The Splinter

Daddy had just left the house, I had just gotten out the shower when I started pulling the sheets away from Little Man so he could get up. He made his usual fuss, turning away from me, burying his face in the pillow. I gave him his sippy of milk, but he started crying. "What now?" I said in my mind, hoping it wasn't going to be one of those mornings where he just sat there and cried and wouldn't get dressed.

"What's the matter Little Man?"

"My foot hurts!" he wailed.

"Where?"

He took his feet out from under the blanket and pointed at the sole of his right foot. I grabbed it and saw the culprit…a small splinter. "How the hell…?"

I went for my tweezers.

At this point he was crying at the top of his lungs, he gets his dramatic side from me and he wanted everyone to know he was having a procedure done. Unfortunately his only audience was the baby, and she was standing in the crib smiling as she watched.

OH MY GOD the screaming as I tried to take that thing out, and I was only holding his foot, he wasn't even letting me go near him with the tweezers yet. "Little Man if you want the boo-boo to go away I have to take it out…" "NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! Mommy NOOOOOO! IT HURTS!" He was fully kicking and punching at me, anything to get me away.

Five full minutes before I could even get the tweezers near him. I got it out, him still screaming…I looked at it closely, it was a small hair. Daddy had cut his and Little Man's hair the night before and one of those stubborn little suckers that are so difficult to get off the floor with a broom and mop had somehow made its way into my son's foot. "Why didn't he complain about it last night???" I asked myself.

No matter.

"Wanna see?" I asked him, holding the tweezers out to him. He nods and comes closer. "Eeeewwwww," he says.

"Yeah, ewwwwwww."

I threw the tiny piece of hair in the garbage and went back into the room. He stands on the bed with his arms out. I go into the hug and as he wipes his nose on my shirt he says "Thank you for making my foot all better, Mommy."

I melted into a puddle.

Even with all the snot on my shirt that hug made everything better. This is what motherhood (and life for that matter) is about, huh? It has to hurt to feel better…

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I have no frikkin idea why all my text has turned PURPLE. Bear with  me, I will fix it....someday...

Nothing has changed...

I'm still as tired as can be. Last night Ms. Demon Diva child decided - AT TWO IN THE MORNING -  that she didn't need any more sleep. So I've been up since then. Daddy, too, because he's sick now and can't sleep when he hears me begging her to go to sleep.

"I don't need no stinkin' sleep MA!"

 

Grrrrrr.....

 

Ms. Beautiful Bikini helped me out to be able to blog from work via e-mail. Who'da thunk blogger had sneaky ways??? LOL!

 

(Sorry, Dennis, still no talk about tiny swimsuits here...)

 

Okay, this is all I'm going to write today. It just feels good to be here.

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There aren't too many fonts to choose from with e-mail...

Bikini, I keep forgetting to ask for your e-mail address because I'm a tard that way...but I wanted to ask you about the risk of blogging through e-mail...is it the same as regular blogging? Will they still see it? Thing is I have some things to complain about, but I won't if they can see it. Like I said I'm not too sure about the taps in here...

e-mail me: Jadensmami1107@yahoo.com. Put BLOG somewhere in the title so I kow it's you because I erase things when I don't know who they come from. I'm an asshole that way.

Testing 1-2-3

Trying out what Bikini (the genious!!!) suggested...

Let's see if it worked!

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Here’s an idea…
What if I wrote posts out and someone else (like one of you dearies) posted them for me? Would that work? Because I am not going to post from work (don’t pay attention to the fact that I’m doing it now…) since most of what I have to say originates there…but what do you think of the safety of e-mailing it to one of you? Is that still a problem? Would they check that way? I need to better understand these big companies…
I’ve been having a terrible horrible no good very bad WEEK and I need to share.
Let me know what you think.