I love spending time with my children**. I genuinely enjoy their company. They make me laugh, with their wit, their charm and of course, their Great Farting Skills. They are my true source of happiness.
THAT SAID…
I need a night out with my husband! Let me rephrase that.
I DESPERATELY NEED A NIGHT OUT WITH MY HUSBAND, ALONE, WITHOUT KIDS, OR I MIGHT LOSE MY MIND! OR, EVEN WORSE, I MIGHT DIE!
No, seriously. I might.
I love my children, I adore them, life would be meaningless without them, but at the same time, I love my husband and I miss him. I need some time with him. Alone. And by be “alone” I do NOT mean “have sex”. I mean “Go see a movie” or “Go out to eat without having to whip out a boob for Gabby to eat”.
You know what I’m sayin?
Now, here’s the part where I ask for your help. We haven’t been out together since November and before then, I couldn’t even tell you the last time we had a night out. And? I’m pretty sure it’ll be another 6 months before we have another opportunity to do this, so, I do NOT want to waste the night on a stupid movie.
For those of you asses who are lucky enough to go out and see movies (yeah, YOU ARE AN ASS TO ME) Can you please tell me what movies you’d recommend and which ones are so bad that I’d want to cut people up for wasting my ONE NIGHT OUT on?
These are the movies I WANT to see…
Be Cool.
Hitch. (Because… KEVIN JAMES a.k.a Doug Heffernon a.k.a My Pretend Boyfriend)
Million Dollar Baby
Hide and Seek.
Please, if you’ve seen any of these and they sucked, tell me. I only get one night out every six months, I’d like to have it NOT SUCK.
**All of my children are not represented in this picture. I do have one more who happened to be at school during this “photo session”. It’s very important to me that people recognize THREE BABIES where pushed through my vagina.
Monthly Archives: March 2005
Beat that!
As I was standing in line at Starbucks, I overheard 2 women, (who I am tempted to refer to as “bitches” simply because they, unlike me, did not smell like puke) talking about their jobs.
“I’m so important at my job.blahblahblah. I made a big sale last week blahblahblahfuckingblah.”
It took everything in me to not turn around and interrupt their conversation with the following.
“Oh yeah? Well, 30 minutes ago, I fixed the dishwasher all by myself! WITH A BUTTERKNIFE! UP YOURS!”
F-A-T
Recently, I’ve run into several people that I hadn’t seen in quite a while. All of their reactions were exactly the same.
“I didn’t even recognize you”
And each time, I said the same thing.
“Of course you didn’t, I’m FAT. I don’t even recognize myself sometimes”
Judging by their reactions, it’s not ok to be honest. “Noooo, that’s not it. It’s… it’s… it’s…”
“I’m fat. Last time you saw me, I wasn’t fat!”
“Well, no, um, well, uh…”
DAMN IT. Why can’t people just be honest and say “Well, yeah. You are. But I STILL LOVE YOU!”
It’s not like I’m saying “Well, because I’m an axe-murdering prostitute and last time you saw me, I wasn’t an axe-murdering prostitute!”
I’m saying THE TRUTH.
If I was 140 pounds the last time you saw me and I’m now 200 pounds, well… that’s PROBABLY why you don’t recognize me.
You read that right, I’m 200 pounds. Let’s go ahead and get that out in the open and out of the way right now.
My daughter is 7 months, I have ONLY LOST 50 pounds.
Basically? I suck and am failing big time with my weight loss. Remember when I was kicking much ass with my weight loss and I was all “I’ve changed and I’m GOING TO DO THIS!”? Umm, yeah. Here we are in MARCH and I’ve only lost another 9 since then.
Suck. Fail. Suck.
I’m ashamed. I’m embarassed. I’m disgusted with myself. What else is new? Yawn. At least I’m honest about it.
So, when I run into people, and they’re all “I didn’t recognize you.” I can’t help but answering with “Well DUH, I’M FAT AND STOP ACTING LIKE THAT’S NOT WHAT YOU MEANT.”
It annoys me. Why can’t people be honest about it? I know, they feel bad, but please?! Stop with the “No, you’re not fat. You just had a baby.”
STOP IT. I did NOT just have a baby. I had a baby SEVEN MONTHS AGO.
Just fucking stop it.
People are just trying to be nice, I suppose. But it’s not nice. It’s… I don’t know what it is, but I wish people would just stop.
The moral of this story?
If you should ever see me in public and I say “Hi! I’m Y and I’m fat!” Just say “Yes, yes you are”.
Thumb WAY up.
You are looking at the greatest joy in my life right now.
My husband holding our daughter.
The way she smiles at him. The way she grabs his neck and pulls herself close to him. The way she giggles when he looks at her. The way she just loves him and the way he loves her right back times 1000.
There are no words to describe the happiness and fufillment I feel when I watch them together.
We’ll see how true that is when she’s 15 and I tell her “No!” and she’s all “DADDY SAID I COULD… SO SCREW YOU!”
But until that fine day, I will enjoy watching the two of them together, her totally owning him and him loving every minute of it.
metamorphosis?
It’s a gorgeous outside right now. I went outside to talk to my man and sip on my venti, iced, soy, white mocha. I closed my eyes and felt the warm sun shine on my pale skin. I miss that so much, sitting outside, soaking up the sun, it felt so good.
I listened to my husband talk, his voice soothed me. He reassured me everything is going to be ok. He’s so happy I’m working on getting better. He worries about me, but he doesn’t run away and hide. He’s right there, next to me, telling me it will be ok. He is a good man.
I could hear my children playing in the front yard. Their laughter made me smile. I remember those days when I was a kid and everything was so simple and fun. Not a care in the world, except who’s team I would be on when we played games or if Jimmy, the neighborhood hunk, would notice me that day, maybe even smile at me. I miss that childlike innocence.
It’s amazing how sometimes happiness is literally as close as your own backyard, but you just can’t see it because you’re too afraid to open the door and experience it. Once you do, you can’t understand why you have been denying yourself that kind of joy.
The simple things in life, I forgot how important they really are.
I’m so glad I was reminded of them today.
Why can’t I write like that anymore? Not that I think that was great writing, but at least I was able to capture what I was feeling at the moment… Why can’t I seem to express what’s happening in my mind, in my heart, in my life without resorting to writing about the ripping of a fart? Oh yeah…THAT’S WHY. My life has changed completely and I suppose it’s only natural that my writing would reflect that change.
Right?
RIGHT?!
(I wasn’t even able to finish THIS post because “someone” was sitting next to me PUSHING POOP OUT. I only tell you this because I’d hate for you to blame the fact I can’t write anymore on ME.)
Please?
::UPDATE:: I’m going to leave this entry up top all weekend long because I want SO BADLY to help Chasmyn be able to have the ultrasound done. She did not ask me to do this. I WANT to do this. Thank you in advance.
A few days ago I read this entry on Chasmyns blog. Because I love her so much, I immediately wrote to Elaine asking what the surprise was and how I could be apart of it. I recieved this response… (and she spilled the beans to Chasmyn, so I’m not giving away any secrets here)
Hi! As you may know, she and her husband do not yet
have insurance. So we are trying to surpise them and
help raise money toward the Level 2 ultrasound. This
test is preformed at 21 weeks and can detect if this
baby has the same heart defect as Quinn. WE are
accepting donantions in any amount. Everything helps
as the test is $800. All of those who are interested
will get an email in the next week to week 1/2 giving
them the paypal account info to send donations to. We
are trying to reach her doctor to help us arrange
this. Thanks for being interested and concerned!
I knew immediately I wanted to help. And I wanted to get as many people as possible to help as well. I have been forever touched by Quinn’s story. No mother should ever have to suffer through that kinds of heartache.
I would do anything to help give Chasmyn peace of mind during this pregnancy. I hope that this test will do that and I want to do my part to raise money to make sure that she can have it done. I’m hoping I can count on YOUR help as well. People were so kind and generous to me during my pregnancy with Gabby, I can only hope we can do the same for Chasmyn and her husband.
If you’d like to help, email me or leave a comment here and I’ll give you the paypal info. You can also email Elaine (her email address is in the post I linked).
(Chasmyn doesn’t know I’m posting this. I hope not to embarrass her in anyway by doing so. I just want to help her in anyway I can, because she deserves it. I love you, Chasmyn)
Mine is cuter than yours AND she rips bigger farts
Honestly? I have no idea why I have to mention the fact that my daughter “knows how to rip’em” everytime I post one of her pictures.
The fact that all I ever brag about is her farting ability is sad because the girl is SMART. Like today? I asked her “Where’s mommy’s nose?” and she GRABBED MY NOSE. [doug heffernon voice]GENIUS[/doug heffernon voice] But instead of writing about those kinds of things, I’m all “Dayum that girl can fart!”
I CAN’T HELP IT! HER FARTS IMPRESS ME! AND I WANT THE WORLD TO KNOW ABOUT THEM!
Speaking of farts…
Not So Lucky Charms
So, how in the hell is YOUR morning going?
THIS is what tired sounds like
Today has been one of “those days.”
Gabby is sick. Double ear infections. And? She’s working on EIGHT teeth. My heart aches for her. I finally was able to suck enough snot out to allow her to breathe a little, and she is now taking a nap. (Let’s see how how long she actually STAYS asleep.)
I’ve been holding the girl for 2 days straight now. My back is aching, I smell like puke, pit and chex mix AND I have gas.
I’m not complaining though, I’m just “tellin’ it like it is”.
8 minutes. She slept for 8 minutes.
Before I go, I would like to leave you with todays Self Portrait.
Consider yourself “told”
If I could have one wish at this very moment, I would not wish for a million dollars. I would not wish that my stomach suddenly stop looking like this. I would not wish that I had the ability to turn myself into a fly (on the wall).
I would wish that my daughter could BLOW HER OWN NOSE.
I can think of 4089984 things I’d rather do than have to stick that evil, yet necessary, contraption up her nose one more time.
Things like “get stung by a hundred bees in the eye” or “give birth to 4 babies at once” or “watch The View” or “do my laundry” or “listen to ANOTHER SONG by 50 cent”
It sucks THAT much. It is THAT horrible.
They don’t tell you about these things when you are pregnant.
Well, THEY SHOULD. (Whoever “they” are)
But since “they” don’t? I’ll tell you.
“Having to use the nasal bulb sucks and it makes your baby cry and it makes YOU cry because your baby is crying and kicking and screaming and you feel like the worst mother in the world for subjecting your totally helpless child to such torture, but you have NO CHOICE because if you don’t do it, your child can NOT BREATHE.”
[/nose bulb hatin’ tantrum]