Tuesday, June 15, 2010

I'm done

Wouldn't it be wonderful to wake up to well behaved children quietly watching tv and getting along with each other?

Y yes it would, but let's face it. We all live in the real world and that isn't a probability, at least in my house.

Laying in bed at 8:00 hearing the girls scavenge through the kitchen and scream and holler at each other is hardly my idea of starting the morning out right.

Some mornings I get lucky and beat them up but that doesn't happen very often. I don't beat them up as in beating them. I get up before them. Phew. Ok. That was a close call.

This morning I get up because I can't bare them running around the house behaving far worse than any little boys could.

I go the bathroom first thing and then I step into the living room filled with the aroma of nail polish and littered with a shopping cart full of kid paraphanalia.

I Ask them, "what have yall been into?". They look at me. That's all I get. I ask them again, "what have yall been into?". Again, they look at me like they have never seen me before and then Maria solemly admits to some miniature chocolate chips I use for baking. Reese just sits there.

I go on into the kitchen because I wake up hungry and after eating I will feel a little better and won't be likely to bite any heads off for any misdeeds.

I proceed to cut my apple into slices that I slather with peanut butter and I decide I should get my Italian beef going for the day as well, so I knock that out. The dishes are gonna have to wait for a minute.

I go back to the living room to claim my spot on the couch and turn to the food network. No Dora in my house. I place my plate on the table to the left and spy green fingernail polish half open. Ah ha. That's the fingernail polish I smell. So somebody has been into something. Like I wasn't going to find out. My eyes continue to scan until they fall on my plaid couch pillow which is painted haphazardly with said fingernail polish.

I told my momma to quit buying new furniture every year because her year old furniture she gives me just gets ruined.

I can't imagine what posessed Reese to paint on this cushion. She's five years old now. Who knows what she is thinking. I didn't beat her for it. I didn't even punish her. She curls up in the fetal position next to me not saying a word. Who can punish that?

Now that I'm done documenting this for her future torture device I shall get down to dishes and finish up the laundry so that when my momma comes this weekend she won't look upon my mound of laundry in disgust, whisking it off to the laundry mat. Well u would have a pile of laundry too if your momma deemed all the girls bedclothes dirty because they "smelled like a dog".

Just when I thought it was gonna be quiet, Maria just took reeses' moxi girl remote car and sat it on her head for the tires to eat her hair. She is now working like a little bee to untangle her hair from the tires. I'm done.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:U.S. 45,Metropolis No. 2,United States

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Probably evil

Call me evil or call me genius.


I don't care.

I like to think that I'm a genius. Such a head in the clouds thought. A great thought to have for a mother of two, soon to be three, and a wife of ten years to a husband that tries his best to please me......

That last statement. Mmm yeah. Can we just leave that alone for now? Ok. Thank u.

Said husband is currently on punishment for causing me extreme anxiety in my pregnancy and I'm only 17 weeks. I suspect it could get a whole lot worse if he doesn't learn how to deal with me in a proper fashion. I'm wearing a holter monitor people. This is serious stuff.

Punishment around here means you can look, but you can't touch. It's only fair. I don't want to touch him so why should he be allowed to touch me. All of this makes perfect sense. Plus, I'm having to wear this rig. I can't even take a bath today not that it's my day of the week to take a bath but still, it could be.

You see, he has let his brother park his rusted, pedophile looking full size piece of clunker van in our backyard driveway for three years now. I was furious when I came home to see the van parked three years ago but was quietly assured they were rebuilding engine and it would be on it's merry way.

That shit never happened.

Looks like a storm victim van but it's not. That's three years of growth. 3 years of rusting. Hello anxiety! Is it you again?

Here we are today, me 17 weeks pregnant with baby 3 on the way, and a pedophile van in our backyard that I think is actually sprouting trees and assorted poison ivy plants, possibly a few dead cats and birds. Ok. Not possibly. Definitely. I've definitely seen a dead bird and there are always dead cats in abundance in my neighborhood. Not because of me though. I would like to do something to the little suckers because they shit in my flower beds like it's their own personal litter box and they crawl under our house in winter time and stink up the joint. (husband lets this happen...I'm thinking he doesn't like sex at all anymore). I often have fantasies of letting Cosby loose in the neighborhood so he can "chase" and "catch" them all. It's a sport for him. He quite enjoys it really. I pretend like it never happens.

Sorry. I got off subject a little bit but not really. This all ties in together somehow.
The rusty pedophile van? It's gotta go.

It's caused me enough grief! It's tacky, it's white trash on top of white trash, and I'm not white trash. I assure you I'm not. Maybe it kinda sounds like I am but I'm not. I'm real classy with just a dash of white trash but I blame that on my husband who is black by the way, so how did he make me a dash of white trash again? Oh yeah. The van. The pedophile van. White trash.

I work real hard to keep a clean house and I think it's super disrespectful for his brother to park his piece of junk at my house for three years simply because he doesn't have room at his house. Sorry Charlie. Not my problem.

I gave my husband the ultimatum this week. I told him he gets NONE until the van is gone. Naturally, he wants some so he gets on phone with brother real quick. Brother says he will come get it by the end of the week. I hope he does. If he doesn't, I'm calling the salvage yard.

I've had it!

Word to the wise, never play with a pregnant woman. We simply dont play.

Evil or genius? U decide.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Superman Square,Metropolis,United States

Thursday, June 3, 2010

A Cosby montage

Reese with her new puppy, Cosby. We got him February 18th, 2009
Could u pls quit choking me now!

Getting a little older

What chu lookin at Willis?

Oh boy! I'm growing bigger!

I'm just so happy and full of it!

I'm just chillin!

We were just hangin out

I know I can't go in the kitchen when my human family is eating. It's only being respectful.

I love Maria and she loves me.

And last but not least, I love my big ol knuckle bone. I've been know to chew one to pieces in a week! I've also been known to hide them. Oops

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Supermommies. It's what we do

They do not understand what a migraine is.
They do not understand you must immediately take cover in the cloak of a darkened room with the aid of a Tylenol 3 because that is the only thing your dr will give your pregnant ass.

They do not understand the strict sentences, "please do not be loud and please do not fight"
In fact, they do the opposite. They fight with more passion than ever before and they decide the kitchen is where they will do the most damage.

I fed them lunch. I fed them plenty.
So why does my five year old decide she wants peanut butter and jelly on ritz crackers and she wants them on Marias Clay Chameleon 6th birthday party plate where all her friends signed their names? Furthermore, why does she decide to set said plate precariously atop a bowl that is sitting on countertop because I have migraine and didn't get to clean up after lunch, so that the plate can come crashing down shattering into tiny pieces with large chunks scattered across floor....all of this loud chaos occuring while I'm trying to get rid of migraine so I can return to supermommy (not grouchy mommy) status.

Why me? Why today?
Oh yeah, I forgot.

I chose mommyhood and this is what supermommies do. We get up out of bed long enough with a raging, flash producing migraine to sweep up the mess and send the kids to their bedrooms for a nap or reading time so we can return to our peaceful, dark bedroom with the fan blasting, so we can work on the migraine once again, because it is now back at "kill me now" status.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

16 weeks pregnant

I just realized the other day that this pregnancy has pretty much been a walk in the park on a cool day, not a hot sunny one. Those hot, sunny walks in the park are not fun.

I only had indigestion for like a week or two, and the morning sickness was slim to none after just a week of puking every day.

I must say the worst part of this pregnancy has been the peeing all night long and peeing on myself when I cough... I swear I'm doing those damn kegal exercises! Oh.... We can't forget about the weight gain. I now weigh in at a cool 181 lbs. Not a good look for me but it is what it is and I will lose the weight after I have little Jackson, so it's all good. I'll deal with looking like a heffer for the greater good.

Oh and these stupid heart palpatations. Who in the heck gets those when they are pregnant? I never experienced this with the girls. Must be a boy thing. A sign that he is gonna give me a few heart attacks?

I've also been able to get off all antidepressants. I've been on those suckers ever since Reese was born five years ago. I couldn't live without my blessed effexor xr. It kept me together. It kept me sane. I loved it. And it loved me. I had to dump effexor xr after becoming pregnant for the more desirable zoloft. Zoloft is a joke. It's no where near the monster effexor xr is. I took it for a month and was able to quit it cold turkey with no side effects and I feel great! Just try to quit effexor xr and tell me your not trying to pull your hair out along with gouging out your eyeballs. Sex? Forget about. U gets NONE!

So, I'm pretty thrilled that Jackson will come from a nice slit through my uterus drug free! I can also breastfeed him without worrying about the drug crossing into breast milk.

I'm no pessimist but I'm not really an optimist either so we all know I will probably suffer post partum depression again and have to go back on antidepressants but I'm cool with that because my children deserve the best mommy I can be and I believe antidepressants help me with just that.

Until next time

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone