Just stuff-

Another smart guy...
An answer to all women's prayers...We were waiting for somebody to prove it was good for you!

A phonecall I went through today:
Me: Good afternoon, Company name here, how can I help you?
Her: Hi I'm calling about the house you guys have for sale.
*Notice she said THE house, not A house, because we only have one house for sale in the whole state!
Me: What street is it on, please? (one way for me to be able to run a search for the property so I can direct her call.)
Her: Oh, I don't know. It's a gray house.
Me: Was there a name of an agent on the board in front of the house? (another way I can run the search)
Her: (to someone else) Was there a name? (to me-) yeah, Real Estate. The name of the person is Real Estate.
Me: (in my head)oh my GOD! Are you kidding me?!?!?
I couldn't connect her to the agent, Mr. Estate had just stepped out.
**Side note- NONE of our signs have the words Real Estate on them...

I just found this on Michelle's site, please read this. It will sicken you to no end! (Supermom-I know you will have something to say about it, girl!)

Appointments

I finally gathered up the balls to call my insurance and ask them for a list of therapists that are covered by them, so that I may make an appointment. I need to do something, I feel like throwing myself into traffic sometimes. But, of course I think of that beautiful little boy I have and I can't. He needs me. So I need to make myself a better person for him. The first place I called was a detox center. Hello insurance! I said depression, not drug addict! The second place I called was a man who picks up his own phone because he doesn't have a receptionist. The first question he asked me was "Are you looking for medication?" (crickets in the backround.) "Not specifically, but if that is going to help..." I answered. So I figured if these are the types that are covered by my insurance, then I'll just make an appointment with this guy and if I don't like him then I'll find another. I couldn't go on with the list. I have an appointment in two weeks. We'll see.
My appointment yesterday sucked ass. First of all, I'm in the room naked from the waist down and my gyno walks in and asks "Why are you here?" (Crickets.) Are you fucking kidding me? He finally sits down and looks at my chart and says "Oh..." and starts with the whole "We'll check again and once the labs come in we'll call you and let you know. And just to be on the safe side we'll have you back in six months." He hasn't even seen the labs and he's making appointments for six months. So I get poked and prodded and swabbed and he's done. "We'll let you know." He said as he walked out. Wham, bam, thank you ma'am. Thanks buddy, I feel so much better. He didn't say anything else. I feel like calling the office everyday till they tell me something, because he didn't even say the "Things are looking good" that I used to hear before the baby. But he also didn't say anything negative. I don't know. I didn't eat anything all day yesterday, got into a huge "I hate you, I'm taking the baby and leaving you" fight with Daddy, went to bed with a huge migraine. Good times all around.
So today, my mouth feels numb (WTF is that about?) and I'm a mess. I wish this could all just be over with. The therapy, the gyno appts., the fights...
I need a break from being me.

The Wake

I can't find it anywhere in today's paper, but the wake for that 11 year old girl was held yesterday at the funeral parlor next to my mother's house. I had dropped the baby off at her house for some quality grandma time, and came to realize I was stuck in a traffic jam on a Sunday evening. Flashing lights everywhere, cars not moving. I look at Daddy, we're both wondering if we came upon a bad accident. The cars start to inch forward, and we see that there is an officer directing traffic in front of the funeral home. There were hundreds of people standing outside, waiting in a line to go inside and see the little girl. We passed the funeral parlor, saw the parking lot was full to capacity, passed several office buildings that were closed, but their lots also full of cars. There were many Johsnton Police cars around, I imagine stopping in to pay respects as well. My heart sank. This is where people are coming to realize she is actually gone. How sad. I said a silent prayer for her as we passed.
God Bless you, little Angel.

Another angel lost...

That's the picture. Here is the story. I don't know what to say. It's horrible. But don't people normally stop when they hear sirens?

***UPDATE: Here is the story printed in today's (2/24/06) paper. Her mother worked for the police dept. so you would think she would understand the concept of sirens. I am not placing blame on her, I'm just confused over the common sense of it all. This happened just ten minutes from where I live. I'm sorry her baby is gone...

This made me forget about the fax...

Stupid, stupid man.

We were doing so well without you

I eat lunch at my desk on a regular basis mostly every day of the week, and it doesn't bother me one bit. Reason: There is hardly ever anyone in my office. We have a few daily stragglers that come in for an hour or two a day to do some paperwork, but mostly I'm here by myself. Sometimes I don't even shut the phones off, I have no problem answering the phones while I eat my lunch, as long as it doesn't ring while I just took a bite because then I'll let it ring. My boss doesn't take my lunch breaks out of my pay, even if I do leave. (Have I mentioned he's the best boss ever?)
Today I left. I used my lunch break to go pick up Daddy at "home" so he can drop me back off at work and take himself to work, since he starts at one. I didn't eat. So when I got back to my office, I went to a small diner down the block and ordered a hamburger deluxe (lettuce, tomatoes, fries. They make it sound like it comes with party favors and balloons.) and sat at my desk to eat it. I'm holding the burger, getting ready to take my first bite, when the highly-caffienated guy I hate oh so much comes running-yes, RUNNING- to my desk holding papers out at arms length saying "can you fax these for me?" I know he sees the burger in my hands. I know he really can walk the three feet to the fax machine, push the buttons on it and send the fax himself. Instead he stands there, still holding the papers out to me, waiting for my response. This wouldn't piss me off if he wasn't so stupid. This morning I walk in and there are papers on my desk. That is typical, because sometimes the people who work from home will come in after-hours and drop things off that I need for the files. But I look at the paper and it's a fax that needs to be sent out. I look closer and it belongs to this asswipe. I take my coat off and bring it to the back, where I find him, sitting at his desk, doing nothing. The fax could have been sent already. Everything with this guy is urgent, so I'm sure that fax needed to go out ASAP, but instead it was sitting on my desk waiting for me. What an ass. I should also mention he has his own personal assistant who doesn't send his faxes. Or organize his files. Or take his messages. What in the world are you paying the assistant for?
I'm going to have to start leaving the office for lunch.

Stupid Idea, Genius Boy!

Daddy, the wonderful man that he is- and I say that sarcastically(today anyway)- has decided to move Little Man's car seat from where I put it behind the passenger seat, to behind the driver's seat. Now, he did this with good intentions, I know. Here is his explanation: "It would be easier for you, since I'm usually the one driving, you can reach back to him if he needs anything. When he is behind you it's not safe for you to turn your whole body around to attend to him if the car is moving."
Seriously, that is a good point. Honestly.
BUT!
When I am alone in the car with him, I like to be able to know that I can turn slightly and see him, or attend to him, which is easier if he's behind the passenger seat. And anyone with children in these car seats knows what a pain in the ass it is to move them around everytime you get in the car. Especially if you're already running late (I always am) and Daddy's papers are scattered in the backseat and you would rather just throw them out than move them over.
Case in point: The other night Little Man was constipated. I had taken Daddy to a friends house who needed help with his car, and I started to drive to my mother's house, a town away. The boy was still behind the passenger seat and I was at least able to reach back and pat his leg and hold his hand (not the safest way to drive, I know, but if you could hear the way the poor boy was crying...) while I got to my mother's house and stuffed him with prunes. Last night my mother needed me to bring her something and I packed the boy up (car seat behind driver's side this time) and headed to her house. He apparently is familiar with Murphy's Law, and starts crying. But he is behind me, and there is no way in hell I could reach back to comfort him, or give him his sippy or pacifier. I was trying to soothe him with words, that went across well, he started kicking my seat and screaming at me. The radio isn't working in my car, so there went the idea of music. He stopped before I got to my mother's, but still. The damn car seat is going back behind the passenger seat before I pick him up from the babysitter TODAY.

A change for the (hopefully) better

Daddy's ex-boss called today offering him his old job back at the car dealership. This boss gave him the boot back in October for taking a Saturday off (which he had requested ahead of time for a trip we had planned before summer). Anyway- car dealerships slow down for winter, that's no secret, so the "letting go" didn't really come as a surprise...but it hurt our bank account and some of our bills. This boss called with his tail between his legs asking him to come back, this time as a supervisor. More money. Working six days a week. For more money. Starting tomorrow if he's interested. Now, back in October there were a lot of "Fuck him and his job" and "I can find another job" and more "Fuck him"'s. But that was a good job. We were doing pretty good back then. So Daddy put his pride in check and accepted. So good-bye stupid job that he has now which has us in the dog house and basically depending on my (small) checks, and hello Big Dealership. My car will be spic-n-span everyday. My carpets will be cheeto-crumb free. My windshield will sparkle. Because that's what happens when it's dead at the dealerships...the employees get their cars washed and sometimes detailed.
I'm hoping that we can get out of this rut we're in, because the depression is starting to settle in with me.
Oh-and there's bad news...we can't have the apartment. The landlady is his aunt, and somehow between us giving her the deposit (IN JANUARY) and them taking more than a month to put us in it, she has changed her mind. She told SIL that she doesn't think we can afford it. At first it was "Maybe they can take the smaller apartment" (the one bedroom in back that is just the bedroom, a "living room" a kitchen and a bathroom-no closets) but I told Daddy no. We have been waiting more than a month to get this apartment and now we can't have it? Fuck you lady. And fuck your apartment, give me my deposit back, we're going somewhere else. Not to mention the craptastic time we are having staying in the Disney Princess room at SIL's house. At least Daddy sees my point of view. In the smaller apartment we will have no space, and my Little Man won't have his own room, and where the hell am I supposed to put all our clothes and his toys and things I don't want out in the open like that? It's a miracle they fit a bathtub in that small ass bathroom. (Don't let me tell you what the toilet looks like...) And the one bedroom-with a Queen size bed, a crib, and a dresser...nope. Not happening. So back to apartment hunting. And more moving. Because we haven't done enough of that this year...
Next Monday is my appointment, trying not to think about it too much, and with all this going on I'm actually succeeding.
I need a drink. Too bad I haven't had a drink since before I was preggo, and one watered-down fruity drink will probably knock me on my ass...

Reading today-

• Daddy would have been dead long ago, do you think there were some underlying issues? That just sucks...
• This is sad...people are still caught up in this racial shit. We all live together in the United States, WTF is your problem?

Some Funny Stuff

The Male Brian...






















This is just gross!!!!

More Bad Parenting

My son fell on his head yesterday. In front of me. For the first time. I was sitting on my mother's rocker, having some breakfast, sharing it with my boy, when he decided he would climb onto the ottoman that goes with the rocker. (Both are made from very cushiony material.) He sat there just fine eating eggs and potatoes with me. When suddenly I see his feet in the air. And he's on the floor.
Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, I'm saying as i put the plate down and run to the other side of the ottoman and see him laying there with a shocked look on his face. Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit He starts to cry because he sees that I'm reaching for him too frantically and I know he sees the look on my face. I pick him up and start touching his neck his head his back checking to see if he cries harder when I touch any place in particular. He grabs hold of my neck and buries his face between my neck and my shoulder. Oh my God he's fine holy shit holy shit holy shit. My mother has fluffy carpeting, my son has a hard head, I guess that makes for a great combination.
I was scared shitless.
"Cheese." he says. He wants to keep eating, how dare I interrupt his breakfast?
He picks up a piece of egg with cheese on it and pops it in his mouth. Big cheesy grin for Mama.
Holy Shit.
I don't think my heartbeat has gone back to normal since then.

Wow, and I thought that was in THIS life...

Diana was a Narrow-Minded Serial Killer in a past life. Discover your past lives @ Quiz Me

How about you? Are you addicted?

Are you Addicted to the Internet? 49% Average@Internet-User.com (41% - 60%) You seem to have a healthy balance in your life when it comes to the internet and life away from the computer. You know enough to do what you want online without looking like an idiot (most of the time). You even have your own Yahoo club or online journal! But you enjoy seeing your friends and going out to enjoy life away from your computer. The Are you Addicted to the Internet? Quiz at Quiz Me!

Friday!

It's Friday-let's try to distract ourselves from the mundane, from pre-cancerous cells, from whiny children that got better from their earaches but still won't sleep in the playpen, from apartments that still aren't done yet and we may never leave the goddamn Disney Princess room again...
This game actually makes me think I know how to play poker...it's fun.
My mother got me addicted to this one months ago. I've taken a break from it because sometimes I want to kill the guy...the one that's supposed to be ME! It's great. I think I'll kill time with it today...
Holy shit! This is scary.


IN THE NEWS:
This asshole is really pleading not guilty. Someone drove by and said "Burn that baby killer."

crap.

yep. Valentines Day continued to suck. We went to my mother's house where I COOKED for us. Spaghetti and sausage. Woo-hoo. No gifts. Nothing. I hate being broke. Can't even give gifts to the people you love. My mother gave us cards from Little Man. He signed them with scribbles. That part I loved.

Made an appointment with my gyno for my six month check-up that I was supposed to have in November but (thank you insurance) I missed that. After having Little Man the doc noticed some "abnormal cells" that he said were normal for a woman after she gives birth. "Let's check back in a couple of weeks and see what happens." Two weeks later, cells still look "funny", "Let's do a biopsy, and make sure they aren't cancerous." Go back to the gyno, got some skin scraped out of my coochie, which hurt more than the 'slight discomfort' they said I would feel. Cells came back normal, but still in danger of being pre-cancerous. "See you in six months!" Which, thanks again to my wonderful insurance company became NINE months, and God only knows if I have some sort of cervical cancer or something and it's taking too long to catch and may not be treatable. So now I'm going to my gyno in two weeks for another scraping, and I'm already scared shitless. My cousin just had a hysterectomy (did I spell that right? the spell check isn't working.) due to ovarian cancer that spread to her uterus. "There was nothing they could do for her." was what my mother told me. What if the cells are cancerous? What happens then? What if there's nothing they can do for me? What if having Little Man was the only chance I get at having a baby??? And here I am not appreciating motherhood the way I want to, not being home with him, getting frustrated over stupid shit...

Daddy is scared in his own way, not once does he say a word to me, but his mother told me he was asking her about her paps and cells and cancer...she told him she always gets 'abnormal-looking' cells in her paps and they always turns out to be nothing every time they scraped her. I haven't said anything to my mother because I don't want to scare her for nothing- if it does turn out to be nothing. I told my sister. That's it. No one else knows, except for the whole internet now, but I don't care. Maybe there's someone out there who can offer some advice, a story of what they went through. A drink. Anything.
The appointment is the 27th. I think I will successfully lose the twenty pounds I want to lose before then with all the worrying I'm already doing.

Last Year vs This Year

Last year: Daddy woke me up at 6:30 in the morning with a gift box and chocolate in his arms. He wanted to wake me up and let me open my gift before Little Man (who was only three months old) woke up for a feeding.

This year: Daddy shook me awake twenty minutes after the alarm clock went off so I could hurry my late ass into the shower.

Last year: We spent the day home together with the baby. Cuddled while he slept and had some rather great ummmm....

This year: Off to the babysitter went Little Man, off to work we went.

Last year: His mother took the baby while we had dinner.

This year: His mother bought me an outfit to wear to our non-existant dinner that we are "having" tonight. To my knowledge, there is no dinner. There has been no request for a sitter, there has been no "Is your mother working tonight?" from him.

This year: My boss is the one who gave me a box of chocolates. And I'm here eating them thinking they would taste better if they came from Daddy.

This year: Valentines Day sucks.

I don't know why I expected us to do anything today, it's not like we have money, but God if we could spend some time together. He is the one who always said he hated Valentines Day and I respected that, still giving him a gift and a card. This year I didn't- couldn't get him anything. I still wore the outfit that my MIL gave me, I just wore it to work. At least I can tell her "I wore it on Valentine's Day, just like you told me to!"

To those doing something special, enjoy it. Don't let my misery bring you down.


***Side note- did anyone watch the Peter Manfredo fight last night? It was the first time I actually saw that guy deserve to win a fight. I don't know what the hell happened to Scott Pemberton, but he got knocked on his ass. I went to high school with Manfredo, don't care for him much he was a cocky bastard. He always thought he was hot shit. I never spoke to him. He fought well last night though.

Happy Valentines Day!!!!!

May your day go as you want it to!
Lots of Luv from me!

Blah.

Not going to write much today.
Wonderful snowstorm. Loved it. Over it. Go away, snow.
There's stuff going on that i will write about. Just not today. Too tired. Been a long day. Until tomorrow...

I got this in an e-mail today... Had to share it. I'm a sap, I know.

THE PRICE OF CHILDRENThis is just too good not to pass on to all. Something absolutelypositive for a change. I have repeatedly seen the breakdown of the costof raising a child, but this is the first time I have seen the rewardslisted this way. It's nice. The government recently calculated the costof raising a child from birth to 18 and came up with $160,140 for amiddle income family. Talk about sticker shock! That doesn't even touchcollege tuition. But $160,140 isn't so bad if you break it down. It translates into:* $8,896.66 a year,* $741.38 a month, or* $171.08 a week.* That's a mere $24.24 a day!* Just over a dollar an hour. Still, you might think the best financial advice is don't have children if you want to be "rich." Actually, it is just the opposite. What do you get for your $160,140?* Naming rights: First, middle, and last!* Glimpses of God every day.* Giggles under the covers every night.* More love than your heart can hold.* Butterfly kisses and Velcro hugs.* Endless wonder over rocks, ants, clouds, and warm cookies.* A hand to hold, usually covered with jelly or chocolate.* A partner for blowing bubbles or flying kites* Someone to laugh yourself silly with, no matter what the boss said or how your stocks performed that day. For $160,140, you never have to grow up. You get to:* finger-paint,* carve pumpkins,* play hide-and-seek,* catch lightning bugs, and* never stop believing in Santa Claus. You have an excuse to:* keep reading the Adventures of Piglet and Pooh,* watching Saturday morning cartoons,* going to Disney movies, and* wishing on stars.* You get to frame rainbows, hearts, and flowers under refrigerator magnets and collect spray painted noodle wreaths for Christmas, hand prints set in clay for Mother's Day, and cards with backward letters for Father's Day. For $160,140, there is no greater bang for your buck. You get to be a hero just for:* retrieving a Frisbee off the garage roof,* taking the training wheels off a bike,* removing a splinter,* filling a wading pool,* coaxing a wad of gum out of bangs, and coaching a baseball team that never wins but always gets treated to ice cream regardless. You get a front row seat to history to witness the:* first step, * first word, * first bra, * first date, and * first time behind the wheel. You get to be immortal. You get another branch added to your familytree, and if you're lucky, a long list of limbs in your obituary calledgrandchildren and great grandchildren. You get an education inpsychology, nursing, criminal justice, communications, and humansexuality that no college can match. In the eyes of a child, you rankright up there under God. You have all the power to heal a boo-boo,scare away the monsters under the bed, patch a broken heart, police aslumber party, ground them forever, and love them without limits, So . .one day they will like you, love without counting the cost. That isquite a deal for the price!!!!!!! Love & enjoy your children & grandchildren!!!!!!!

Really? What a surprise...

Hate to say I told ya so...Bastard. Not that I condone suicide or anything, but couldn't he just have gone through with the suicide and left his wife and poor beautiful daughter the fuck alone? Selfish Asshole. What's really sad is I know someone who was best friends with the wife. She's a mess with all this. But then, who wouldn't be???