We are going on vacation this year! TO THE BEACH! I absolutely love, love, love the beach. We haven't been there since before I got preggo with kid #1. After we booked the room, and the initial excitement has passed I realize I'm going to have to wear a bathing suit. Oh.....My.....Jesus! I haven't been in public in a bathing suit since before I had my first child. Shit. I definitely am not in the same shape as I was back then. Granted, I was no Victoria Secret model back in the day, but I wasn't that bad. I had a nice flat tummy, and a halfway decent booty. I've never had much in the boob area, but I could rock some low rise jeans back then. I used to be able to eat anything I wanted and never exercise and just stayed the same size.
Then I had children......
I am now realizing how much I took for granted. I have excepted the fact that those size 3 jeans hanging in my closet are never going to happen again. I was extremely lucky, because I only gained about 20 pounds with each kid. Regardless of that everything still seemed to widen and move around. That night I decided to try on my old bikini and access the damage. Eeeeek! What have these kids done to me?!? Once where there was a flat stomach, now looks like a deflated beach ball. That cute little butt I used to have is now the flat area of my body. What did they do, take my ass with them when they came out?? Apparently since the wrinkles have started showing up on my face my dimples decided to migrate to my thighs.....then multiply!
Ok, we have almost 3 months before vacation time. Surely I can get in better shape by then. I'll just lay off the junk food, and do some serious working out. I started with the P90X "Ab Ripper X" Monday night. As of today my whole damn body hurts. It hurts to walk. It hurts to sit. It just plain HURTS! That's a good sign, right? I am determined to not look like a beached whale on vacation.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Girls night.....and the aftermath
I think every mom should take time to have a girls night out occasionally. Sometimes you just need to get out of the "mommy mode". I try to do this every few months. I miss my boys like crazy when I'm not with them, but its good to get some time for myself. So that being said, Friday night was girls night. Nothing crazy or anything, just hanging out at my friends house talking and taking a few shots of vodka. Since I don't drink and drive I just stayed the night, and got up early to make it home by the time the kiddies woke up. I had a blast, and finally crashed out about 3ish. At 7:00 am when it is time for me to get up I was definitely still tired, but I thought "Hey, I'm not feeling too bad!" No headache. No urge to vomit. Then as I'm on my way home I realize why I'm not feeling bad. I do believe I'm still about halfway drunk. Maybe shots number 11 and 12 weren't such a good idea.
I get home by bout 8:00. As I go in the door what do I hear.......blissful silence. Everyone is still asleep!! Hallelujah!! If I wasn't afraid I would fall over or wake them I would do a happy dance right now. I immediately face plant into my bed. Oh sweet Jesus, the room is spinning. This is sooooo not good. Exactly 30 minutes later the boys are up. *sigh* Ok, its a pretty day out. I can let the boys play in the back yard, and sit on my ass and not do much. WRONG! The hubby informs me the "agenda for the day". His exact words. This agenda includes me getting up and functioning in about 30 minutes. Well, shit. Somehow I manage to get myself up and out the door. I swear he is enjoying this.......evil shit. Ok, I've forced down a croissant, and downed half a bottle of pepto. Not to mention I'm popping Excedrin like they are candy. I need coffee.......lots of coffee.
First stop is the outdoor outfitters store. It's official, I'm dying. I am getting to old for this. Next stop is the flea market. Normally I love going to the flea market. Today not so much. It is CROWDED! Maneuvering through these people with this big ass stroller needs the patience of a saint. That is something I am far from today. After getting shoved, and elbowed, and dealing with the random people who stop in the middle of the isle to block the way I am fed up. That's it......the bitch is coming out! If you irritate me in any way you are getting your heels rammed with this stroller. That means you Mr. "Gangsta" with your baggy jeans around your knees. You know, if you wear a belt you don't have to stop to pull them up every 5 steps! You are getting rammed. OH! And definitely you slutzilla with your mile long thong sticking out of your pants, and your spare tire hanging out of your belly shirt. You are getting rammed. TWICE! Nobody needs an anatomy lesson from you. Cover that shit. The best part is when some chick in a shirt that says "I am not a gang member" (Seriously......thanks for the heads up) almost ran over my 3 year old. I think every profanity I know came out of my mouth. This seemed to just amuse the hell out of my hubby. I'm lucky I didn't get shot.
From there its on to wal-mart, and the in-laws house. By now I'm certain my hubs is trying to kill me. Finally, at 7pm I walk back in my front door! I have never been so happy to be home. It's bath time then bed for the kids. At 9:00 I am ready to curl up in my bed and pass out. That's when the hubby breaks out the "sexy coupons" I gave him for Valentines day. ARE YOU SHITTIN' ME?!? Evil.....Evil man. I eventually got to go to sleep. I'm still plotting my revenge for him.
I get home by bout 8:00. As I go in the door what do I hear.......blissful silence. Everyone is still asleep!! Hallelujah!! If I wasn't afraid I would fall over or wake them I would do a happy dance right now. I immediately face plant into my bed. Oh sweet Jesus, the room is spinning. This is sooooo not good. Exactly 30 minutes later the boys are up. *sigh* Ok, its a pretty day out. I can let the boys play in the back yard, and sit on my ass and not do much. WRONG! The hubby informs me the "agenda for the day". His exact words. This agenda includes me getting up and functioning in about 30 minutes. Well, shit. Somehow I manage to get myself up and out the door. I swear he is enjoying this.......evil shit. Ok, I've forced down a croissant, and downed half a bottle of pepto. Not to mention I'm popping Excedrin like they are candy. I need coffee.......lots of coffee.
First stop is the outdoor outfitters store. It's official, I'm dying. I am getting to old for this. Next stop is the flea market. Normally I love going to the flea market. Today not so much. It is CROWDED! Maneuvering through these people with this big ass stroller needs the patience of a saint. That is something I am far from today. After getting shoved, and elbowed, and dealing with the random people who stop in the middle of the isle to block the way I am fed up. That's it......the bitch is coming out! If you irritate me in any way you are getting your heels rammed with this stroller. That means you Mr. "Gangsta" with your baggy jeans around your knees. You know, if you wear a belt you don't have to stop to pull them up every 5 steps! You are getting rammed. OH! And definitely you slutzilla with your mile long thong sticking out of your pants, and your spare tire hanging out of your belly shirt. You are getting rammed. TWICE! Nobody needs an anatomy lesson from you. Cover that shit. The best part is when some chick in a shirt that says "I am not a gang member" (Seriously......thanks for the heads up) almost ran over my 3 year old. I think every profanity I know came out of my mouth. This seemed to just amuse the hell out of my hubby. I'm lucky I didn't get shot.
From there its on to wal-mart, and the in-laws house. By now I'm certain my hubs is trying to kill me. Finally, at 7pm I walk back in my front door! I have never been so happy to be home. It's bath time then bed for the kids. At 9:00 I am ready to curl up in my bed and pass out. That's when the hubby breaks out the "sexy coupons" I gave him for Valentines day. ARE YOU SHITTIN' ME?!? Evil.....Evil man. I eventually got to go to sleep. I'm still plotting my revenge for him.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Wild animals, plastic bats and kitty little boxes.....
I think I'm still in shock that this level of crazy can happen at my house.
While I'm getting ready for work yesterday morning I hear Diddly, the 3 pound demon dog, start going crazy barking. That dog barks at EVERYTHING so I wasn't that concerned until #1 comes to the bedroom and says, "Mommy, Diddly is barking at the couch 'cause it's making funny noises". Ummm......ok? Never heard that one before. I figure I might as well go check it out to see what all the commotion is about. Sure enough the couch is making 'funny noises', and the dog is acting like shes gonna stroke out any second. I'm debating on just pretending like this is not happening and just continuing to get myself and the kiddies ready and leaving for work. Nope, can't do that. My curiosity has gotten the better of me, I HAVE to see what's under the stupid couch. I move the couch back and HOLY CRAPOLLI! There is a baby opossum under my couch!! IN MY LIVING ROOM! How in the hell has a damn opossum got in my house?!? Then I think of a better question.....How in the hell am I going to get it out? The hubby has already left for work. Ok, this thing is tiny. Maybe just a little bigger than the dog. I can do this.....maybe. By this time kid #1 is already asking if we can keep it. NO, absolutely not! Ok....think think think....how can I get this thing out. Then I see my saving grace, the empty plastic cat little tub. Thank the lord my hubby is a procrastinator and didn't take it to the trash like I asked him to!! So here I am with a plastic tub an a broom trying to sweep the opossum up. Needless to say that little fucker ran under the love seat. After about 30 minutes of chasing the little shit I finally got him. Yay, go me! Opossum in a tub.....what a way to start my morning. Now what am I going to do with him? I'm thinking I caught him so the hubby can figure out what to do with him right? All I'm going to do is put the lid on the tub, poke a few holes in it, and stick it on the back porch. I have done my duty, I'm leaving for work. I called my hubby on the way, he is torn between laughing at me and wondering how the damn thing got in.
After that crazy morning I decide me and the kiddies are going to a friends house for a play date when I get off work. Plus that will give the hubby time to decide what to do with the stupid thing, and I won't have to deal with it. On our way home from the play date I get a call from the hubby. There is another one. This one was in the cabinet under the sink. So my hubby is on the phone yelling; "HOW IN THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO CATCH THIS THING WHEN I CAN'T FIND A FLASHLIGHT IN THIS WHOLE DAMN HOUSE?!?" "Well, I don't know. There is always a flashlight in the toy box, the kid loves playing with them. I'll be home in a few, don't tear the house down." Oh, I do NOT want to go home now. I have had my limit of wild animals for the day. Maybe he will have it all under control by the time I get there (yea right!)
When I walk into my house the first word that comes to mind is chaos. The couches are still shoved out of place from my little escapade this morning, but my refrigerator is sitting in the middle of my kitchen floor. The island has been pushed into the hallway, and there are pots and pans scattered everywhere. The best part is the hubs is standing in the middle of all of this with a cardboard box in one hand and a plastic baseball bat in the other. I start laughing, I mean what else can I do at this point? My hubby is so mad at the damn opossum that apparently its not nearly as funny to him. He has been chasing this thing for over an hour. Ok, we are going to have to make a team effort for this one. Finally, it decides to make a run for the living room! Brave little shit. Hubby still has the bat and box, but what does he do? He throws them down and makes a dive for it. Yeah, that was smart. Somehow he catches it (did I mention he has his big work gloves on?). He's got it by the back of the neck and it is not a happy little opossum. I don't think I ever realized how ugly those sons of bitches are. He marches right out the back door with it. I'm cracking up laughing by now. All I can say for our little friends is they will not be making it back in any ones houses anymore. Just call us the great opossum hunters.
The rest of the night consisted of us searching the house for any more 'visitors'. None were found, thank the Lord. We did figure out they had somehow pushed the vent thing out from behind our dryer and got in. That's all fixed now, so hopefully this won't happen again. I need a drink. A BIG one.
While I'm getting ready for work yesterday morning I hear Diddly, the 3 pound demon dog, start going crazy barking. That dog barks at EVERYTHING so I wasn't that concerned until #1 comes to the bedroom and says, "Mommy, Diddly is barking at the couch 'cause it's making funny noises". Ummm......ok? Never heard that one before. I figure I might as well go check it out to see what all the commotion is about. Sure enough the couch is making 'funny noises', and the dog is acting like shes gonna stroke out any second. I'm debating on just pretending like this is not happening and just continuing to get myself and the kiddies ready and leaving for work. Nope, can't do that. My curiosity has gotten the better of me, I HAVE to see what's under the stupid couch. I move the couch back and HOLY CRAPOLLI! There is a baby opossum under my couch!! IN MY LIVING ROOM! How in the hell has a damn opossum got in my house?!? Then I think of a better question.....How in the hell am I going to get it out? The hubby has already left for work. Ok, this thing is tiny. Maybe just a little bigger than the dog. I can do this.....maybe. By this time kid #1 is already asking if we can keep it. NO, absolutely not! Ok....think think think....how can I get this thing out. Then I see my saving grace, the empty plastic cat little tub. Thank the lord my hubby is a procrastinator and didn't take it to the trash like I asked him to!! So here I am with a plastic tub an a broom trying to sweep the opossum up. Needless to say that little fucker ran under the love seat. After about 30 minutes of chasing the little shit I finally got him. Yay, go me! Opossum in a tub.....what a way to start my morning. Now what am I going to do with him? I'm thinking I caught him so the hubby can figure out what to do with him right? All I'm going to do is put the lid on the tub, poke a few holes in it, and stick it on the back porch. I have done my duty, I'm leaving for work. I called my hubby on the way, he is torn between laughing at me and wondering how the damn thing got in.
After that crazy morning I decide me and the kiddies are going to a friends house for a play date when I get off work. Plus that will give the hubby time to decide what to do with the stupid thing, and I won't have to deal with it. On our way home from the play date I get a call from the hubby. There is another one. This one was in the cabinet under the sink. So my hubby is on the phone yelling; "HOW IN THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO CATCH THIS THING WHEN I CAN'T FIND A FLASHLIGHT IN THIS WHOLE DAMN HOUSE?!?" "Well, I don't know. There is always a flashlight in the toy box, the kid loves playing with them. I'll be home in a few, don't tear the house down." Oh, I do NOT want to go home now. I have had my limit of wild animals for the day. Maybe he will have it all under control by the time I get there (yea right!)
When I walk into my house the first word that comes to mind is chaos. The couches are still shoved out of place from my little escapade this morning, but my refrigerator is sitting in the middle of my kitchen floor. The island has been pushed into the hallway, and there are pots and pans scattered everywhere. The best part is the hubs is standing in the middle of all of this with a cardboard box in one hand and a plastic baseball bat in the other. I start laughing, I mean what else can I do at this point? My hubby is so mad at the damn opossum that apparently its not nearly as funny to him. He has been chasing this thing for over an hour. Ok, we are going to have to make a team effort for this one. Finally, it decides to make a run for the living room! Brave little shit. Hubby still has the bat and box, but what does he do? He throws them down and makes a dive for it. Yeah, that was smart. Somehow he catches it (did I mention he has his big work gloves on?). He's got it by the back of the neck and it is not a happy little opossum. I don't think I ever realized how ugly those sons of bitches are. He marches right out the back door with it. I'm cracking up laughing by now. All I can say for our little friends is they will not be making it back in any ones houses anymore. Just call us the great opossum hunters.
The rest of the night consisted of us searching the house for any more 'visitors'. None were found, thank the Lord. We did figure out they had somehow pushed the vent thing out from behind our dryer and got in. That's all fixed now, so hopefully this won't happen again. I need a drink. A BIG one.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Did that really just come out of my mouth?
Can I just go back and start this day over? Please?
I work at a call center. Lately they have been making some changes in how we are evaluated. No problem, I know how to do my job, however they have be ripping me a new one over my accent and grammar. I was born and raised in East TN. I grew up on a farm, raised tobacco, and had pet chickens. Hell I even took baby mice that I had caught in the barn to my show and tell in elementary school. Kids drove their tractors and lawn mowers to school on homecoming week at my high school. I admit I sound like a hick, but what the hell do they expect me to sound like?? They knew this when I was hired 6 years ago, but suddenly it's not acceptable. So like I said they are jumping my shit because of how I talk.
Well I go into work this morning and my boss shows up at my desk with this guy in a damn 3 piece suite and tells me he is from our corporate office in IL. He is visiting our center for the day. (Yay....)Since he's here he wants to sit with some of our people and 'get the feel for what we do'. Guess who the lucky girl is that they decide to sit him with. Are they insane?!? It really doesn’t help that I had woke up late this morning so I'm wearing my holey old jeans, the hubbys old camo shirt and a fucking baseball hat that says "Roughneck" across the front. To top it off I have my Wal-Mart Ugg knock off boots on that I'm pretty sure the dog pissed on, but hey they were beside the door so that’s what I wore. It was definitely one of those mornings that I just grabbed whatever didn't have any type of baby shit/snot/pee on it and looked halfway clean and went with it. I mean really, I sit in a cubicle all day no need to go to the trouble of makeup and all that nonsense.
So boss and suite man are at my desk. I've been busted in the act of chowing down on left over Valentine’s Day candy I've swiped from the kiddies. (Breakfast of champs!) We are not supposed to have food at our desks so if my appearance hasn't made me a candidate for employee of the month I'm sure that did it. OK....candy put away. We are all set to take a few calls. I'm trying really hard not to sound like a cow tippin country bumpkin. I'm making sure I put the "g" on the end of the words that are supposed to have a "g" and saying "Thank YOU" instead of "Thank YA". I'm doing pretty darn good if I do say so myself. Until I get the call that shot it all to hell. I'm placing an order. Easy! I could do this shit in my sleep. I'm verifying the shipping address for the order and what do I do......I say "May I have your SHITTIN' address". Wait.....What did I just say? Did I seriously just fuck that up that bad?!? Yup I sure did. Not only did I say the wrong word, I turned a perfectly innocent word into a profanity (which is slightly frowned upon when talking to the customers) AND left off the fuckin "g" at the end. By this point my face has turned bright red and dude is trying not to laugh at me. Well after that little slip up I figured fuck it. Let the southern slang fly. I threw in so many "honey" and "darlins" I'm sure the lady I was talking to thought I batshit crazy. The fact that he is laughing makes me hopeful I'm not getting fired.
Silver lining is maybe they won't sit people with me from now on!
I work at a call center. Lately they have been making some changes in how we are evaluated. No problem, I know how to do my job, however they have be ripping me a new one over my accent and grammar. I was born and raised in East TN. I grew up on a farm, raised tobacco, and had pet chickens. Hell I even took baby mice that I had caught in the barn to my show and tell in elementary school. Kids drove their tractors and lawn mowers to school on homecoming week at my high school. I admit I sound like a hick, but what the hell do they expect me to sound like?? They knew this when I was hired 6 years ago, but suddenly it's not acceptable. So like I said they are jumping my shit because of how I talk.
Well I go into work this morning and my boss shows up at my desk with this guy in a damn 3 piece suite and tells me he is from our corporate office in IL. He is visiting our center for the day. (Yay....)Since he's here he wants to sit with some of our people and 'get the feel for what we do'. Guess who the lucky girl is that they decide to sit him with. Are they insane?!? It really doesn’t help that I had woke up late this morning so I'm wearing my holey old jeans, the hubbys old camo shirt and a fucking baseball hat that says "Roughneck" across the front. To top it off I have my Wal-Mart Ugg knock off boots on that I'm pretty sure the dog pissed on, but hey they were beside the door so that’s what I wore. It was definitely one of those mornings that I just grabbed whatever didn't have any type of baby shit/snot/pee on it and looked halfway clean and went with it. I mean really, I sit in a cubicle all day no need to go to the trouble of makeup and all that nonsense.
So boss and suite man are at my desk. I've been busted in the act of chowing down on left over Valentine’s Day candy I've swiped from the kiddies. (Breakfast of champs!) We are not supposed to have food at our desks so if my appearance hasn't made me a candidate for employee of the month I'm sure that did it. OK....candy put away. We are all set to take a few calls. I'm trying really hard not to sound like a cow tippin country bumpkin. I'm making sure I put the "g" on the end of the words that are supposed to have a "g" and saying "Thank YOU" instead of "Thank YA". I'm doing pretty darn good if I do say so myself. Until I get the call that shot it all to hell. I'm placing an order. Easy! I could do this shit in my sleep. I'm verifying the shipping address for the order and what do I do......I say "May I have your SHITTIN' address". Wait.....What did I just say? Did I seriously just fuck that up that bad?!? Yup I sure did. Not only did I say the wrong word, I turned a perfectly innocent word into a profanity (which is slightly frowned upon when talking to the customers) AND left off the fuckin "g" at the end. By this point my face has turned bright red and dude is trying not to laugh at me. Well after that little slip up I figured fuck it. Let the southern slang fly. I threw in so many "honey" and "darlins" I'm sure the lady I was talking to thought I batshit crazy. The fact that he is laughing makes me hopeful I'm not getting fired.
Silver lining is maybe they won't sit people with me from now on!
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
First blog ever!
Let me start out explaining a little about my crazy life. I have 2 fantastic little boys. Kid #1 is soon to be 3 years old and he is the craziest kid I've ever seen. The things that come out of his mouth sometimes amaze me. It is insane how much of a smart ass he is already. I am in some serious trouble when he gets older. To make his little attitude even funnier he has the most country accent I've ever heard a child have. Kid #2 is my 1 year old wild child. He is a tough little shit and gives his big brother a run for his money. He's just learned how to walk and has taken some falls that would make me cry and he just jumps right up and keeps going. Now #2 has definitely inherited my redhead temper times 10. Before he even turned a year old he had given #1 a black eye for trying to take one of his toys. Just a few weeks ago he got in trouble in his Sunday school class for hitting one of the older boys in the face with a plastic phone. Yep if I thought #1 was going to give me trouble when he's older because of his mouth then I am completely screwed when #2 goes to school. I have the feeling I'll be getting calls every day about him fighting.
Well on to the events that inspired me to create this blog. I'm convinced that they are trying to drive me crazy this week. I think their goal is to watch me being carted out of the house in a straight jacket. It all started on the way home from my mom’s house the other day. About half way home #1 started throwing a God awful fit because he forgot to tell 'mam-mams' cows bye. So the rest of the way home I heard screaming for me to turn around because the cows would be sad if he didn't tell them bye. Eventually he got the point that I was not driving all the way back and that the cows would be there for him to tell them bye the next time. Of course through this whole tantrum #2 was making it worse by reaching across the back seat and touching him then laughing when #1 would freak out even worse. Now the only funny part about this is the fact that when #2 laughs he sounds like Beavis and Butthead so it was kind of amusing.
On to day 2 of plan drive mommy batshit crazy. We get up at the ungodly hour of 7am on a Saturday morning because Lord knows my kids couldn't sleep in on one of the only days that I am able to sleep past 6:30. Well about noon the hubby decides that he can't handle the craziness of both kids being wild anymore so we decide to go out and run some errands. So the hubby is in the shower and I take #1 to his room to change clothes. I put #2 in his playpen so he can't tear the house down while I'm not in the room. Suddenly I hear a thump and running. The crazy kid has climbed out of his playpen! I run to the living room and see him making a mad dash to the stairs. Big red spot on his head and all from where I'm guessing he landed when he climbed out. So I'm thinking Oh lord he’s gave himself a concussion but of course he’s fine because like I mentioned he’s the toughest little thing I've ever seen. Ok back to getting dressed.....#1 decides he is going to take the baby gate down so he can go up the stairs because heaven forbid he wait 2 minutes for me to get out of the bathroom to open it for him. This results in him hitting himself in the face with the gate and busting his lip. I come out of the bathroom to my hallway looking like a set from a horror movie. He has spit blood everywhere. *sigh* So i get him cleaned up and make sure he’s not missing any teeth and go back to getting ready. While out shopping we are in a store and me and #1 decide to wander to the shoe section because he says he needs "bear huntin boots" leaving the hubby with #2. Next thing I know I see hubby walking over to us with this look on his face. Uh oh....Apparently he was at the counter holding #2 talking to the sales guy when all of a sudden the lady standing beside him screams. Of course everyone around him turns to see what is wrong. Low and behold my child has a handful of this poor woman’s hair and is pulling for all he's worth. The hubs has decided from now on the kid stays in his stroller when out in public. So the rest of the day goes by pretty uneventful other than the normal stuff like #2 trying to eat dog food and #1 deciding that his little brothers nickname is now going to be 'shithead' and despite multiple time outs and treats to bust his butt he still insists on calling him that.
Day 3.....It starts out fine besides the fact #2 is cutting another tooth and is in a absolutely foul mood. Normal crazy morning but finally its the kids nap time. Wooohooo my favorite time of the day. So #1 falls asleep on the couch and instead of risking waking him up while carrying him to his bed I just pushed the ottoman up beside him so he couldn't roll off. Apparently I underestimated how much he rolls while asleep because somehow he manages to get in the foot long space at the bottom of the couch where the ottoman doesn't cover. Yep he rolls off......let the screaming begin. He's ok of course but now they are both awake. It was a peaceful 10 minutes while it lasted though. They have had more accidents in this one weekend than they have had in 6 months put together....I'm on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Later in the day I walk in the kitchen and the cat is in the high chair that is sitting beside the table. No big deal that is one of his favorite place to hide from the kids. Well what I see is #1 standing on top of my kitchen table with his pants down to his ankles trying to pee on the cat. WHAT THE HELL?!?! Seriously what is this kid thinking! His explanation is the cat scratched him. Ummm ok why in the world were you on the table trying to pee on him?!?! Now remember I told you he is a major smart ass....his response to that question was "Well I couldn’t pee on him from the floor!" I don't even know what to say to that. It doesn’t help that the hubby was in the doorway laughing saying "Well he's got a good point" Ok so its laundry time now. I'm hanging up clothes and I hear #1 playing with the dog. All of a sudden he busts out laughing and says "I skeered the daggone piss outta diddly!" (He named her himself when we got her and we still have no clue why he named her diddly) By this point I'm just going to ignore this. Normally I would tell him that "piss" is not a nice word but after the events of the past few days I'm not even going to try on this one. Thank the Lord it's finally bed time! Needless to say I was ready to come back to work Monday morning. I love my boys with all my heart but if I was a stay at home mom I'm pretty sure I would lose my mind.
Well on to the events that inspired me to create this blog. I'm convinced that they are trying to drive me crazy this week. I think their goal is to watch me being carted out of the house in a straight jacket. It all started on the way home from my mom’s house the other day. About half way home #1 started throwing a God awful fit because he forgot to tell 'mam-mams' cows bye. So the rest of the way home I heard screaming for me to turn around because the cows would be sad if he didn't tell them bye. Eventually he got the point that I was not driving all the way back and that the cows would be there for him to tell them bye the next time. Of course through this whole tantrum #2 was making it worse by reaching across the back seat and touching him then laughing when #1 would freak out even worse. Now the only funny part about this is the fact that when #2 laughs he sounds like Beavis and Butthead so it was kind of amusing.
On to day 2 of plan drive mommy batshit crazy. We get up at the ungodly hour of 7am on a Saturday morning because Lord knows my kids couldn't sleep in on one of the only days that I am able to sleep past 6:30. Well about noon the hubby decides that he can't handle the craziness of both kids being wild anymore so we decide to go out and run some errands. So the hubby is in the shower and I take #1 to his room to change clothes. I put #2 in his playpen so he can't tear the house down while I'm not in the room. Suddenly I hear a thump and running. The crazy kid has climbed out of his playpen! I run to the living room and see him making a mad dash to the stairs. Big red spot on his head and all from where I'm guessing he landed when he climbed out. So I'm thinking Oh lord he’s gave himself a concussion but of course he’s fine because like I mentioned he’s the toughest little thing I've ever seen. Ok back to getting dressed.....#1 decides he is going to take the baby gate down so he can go up the stairs because heaven forbid he wait 2 minutes for me to get out of the bathroom to open it for him. This results in him hitting himself in the face with the gate and busting his lip. I come out of the bathroom to my hallway looking like a set from a horror movie. He has spit blood everywhere. *sigh* So i get him cleaned up and make sure he’s not missing any teeth and go back to getting ready. While out shopping we are in a store and me and #1 decide to wander to the shoe section because he says he needs "bear huntin boots" leaving the hubby with #2. Next thing I know I see hubby walking over to us with this look on his face. Uh oh....Apparently he was at the counter holding #2 talking to the sales guy when all of a sudden the lady standing beside him screams. Of course everyone around him turns to see what is wrong. Low and behold my child has a handful of this poor woman’s hair and is pulling for all he's worth. The hubs has decided from now on the kid stays in his stroller when out in public. So the rest of the day goes by pretty uneventful other than the normal stuff like #2 trying to eat dog food and #1 deciding that his little brothers nickname is now going to be 'shithead' and despite multiple time outs and treats to bust his butt he still insists on calling him that.
Day 3.....It starts out fine besides the fact #2 is cutting another tooth and is in a absolutely foul mood. Normal crazy morning but finally its the kids nap time. Wooohooo my favorite time of the day. So #1 falls asleep on the couch and instead of risking waking him up while carrying him to his bed I just pushed the ottoman up beside him so he couldn't roll off. Apparently I underestimated how much he rolls while asleep because somehow he manages to get in the foot long space at the bottom of the couch where the ottoman doesn't cover. Yep he rolls off......let the screaming begin. He's ok of course but now they are both awake. It was a peaceful 10 minutes while it lasted though. They have had more accidents in this one weekend than they have had in 6 months put together....I'm on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Later in the day I walk in the kitchen and the cat is in the high chair that is sitting beside the table. No big deal that is one of his favorite place to hide from the kids. Well what I see is #1 standing on top of my kitchen table with his pants down to his ankles trying to pee on the cat. WHAT THE HELL?!?! Seriously what is this kid thinking! His explanation is the cat scratched him. Ummm ok why in the world were you on the table trying to pee on him?!?! Now remember I told you he is a major smart ass....his response to that question was "Well I couldn’t pee on him from the floor!" I don't even know what to say to that. It doesn’t help that the hubby was in the doorway laughing saying "Well he's got a good point" Ok so its laundry time now. I'm hanging up clothes and I hear #1 playing with the dog. All of a sudden he busts out laughing and says "I skeered the daggone piss outta diddly!" (He named her himself when we got her and we still have no clue why he named her diddly) By this point I'm just going to ignore this. Normally I would tell him that "piss" is not a nice word but after the events of the past few days I'm not even going to try on this one. Thank the Lord it's finally bed time! Needless to say I was ready to come back to work Monday morning. I love my boys with all my heart but if I was a stay at home mom I'm pretty sure I would lose my mind.
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