My daughter.
I never imagined I would love her as much as I do. And she loves me right back. When she smiles at me like that, it takes my breath away and will bring tears to my eyes.
I went to see my mom this morning. She hugged me, which is something she never does, and she said “Happy birthday, mija, I love you.” She told me she was thinking about me this morning, how 33 years ago she gave birth to me, while my dad was drunk (I KNOW, my dad, THE PREACHER!) She told me she loved me so much, the same way I love my Gabby.
I never thought of my mother loving me this way. We’ve had so many problems in our relationship, there’s been so much negativity. I’ve never thought she likes me much. But when she said that to me today, I realised that there was a time when our relationship was beautiful. Before life got complicated she loved me more than anything. I was everything to her, I was her first little baby girl. Now, as I hold my daughter, I think of my momma holding me, kissing me and just LOVING me the way I love my daughter.
And it makes me happy. Happy to know there was a time in our lives were we just loved each other. Where she was my momma and I was her little girl and nothing else mattered.
Thank you for the birthday wishes, and THANK YOU TO THE BEST FRIEND a girl could have for thinking of me and reminding everyone that I’m an OLD HAG! I love you, ma’melly!
Just… NO.
Let’s play a game. I’ll ask you a question and give you multiple choice answers. Can you guess the correct answer?
Question
What question should you never EVER ask your wife who’s been home all day taking care of your newborn baby and your 2 boys AND trying to take care of EVERYTHING ELSE?
A) How was your day, my QUEEN?
B) Did you lose more weight?
C) Can I rub your feet?
D) What did you DO all day?????
E) Would you like me to go to Starbucks for you?
Drip.
I try to eat breakfast when Gabby takes her morning snooze, but I usually get busy with “things around the house” (you know, things like “blogging” or “reading blogs”) I had put a load of laundry in the washer and decided to make a bowl of oatmeal while she was still sleeping. I put the water on to boil, grab a bowl, a spoon, a package of oatmeal and I stood by the stove waiting…
As soon as the water started to boil, I could feel my milk start coming down.
Nooooooooooo. Because when the milk starts coming down, that means Gabby will start crying.
So, I’m standing there at the stove, bowl in hand waiting. I was wearing a shirt that’s so small on me, my boobs hang out the bottom and I did NOT have a bra on. My milk starts pouring in. It starts streaming down my stomach, down my leg (no, I had no pants on) and splatting onto the floor.
Dear God, give me two more minutes…
The water finally boils, I pour it in the bowl, try not to slip on my milk that’s now in puddles on my kitchen floor and head for the table.
“WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”
Damn it. She wants to eat first. And since she is The Boss of me, I have to follow her orders.
I was *this* close to enjoying a good breakfast, half dressed, covered in my own milk.
Damn.
You don’t OWN me (SHE does)
You see that sweet, chubby little girl right there? The one with the adorable smirk on her face?
That little girl is The Boss of Me
She is The Boss of my boobies. They no longer belong to me. Nor do they belong to the previous owner (Tony). No, they are all hers and I must whip them out at her command.
She is The Boss of when I eat. If I just served a nice, hot bowl of soup and she wants the boobies that she is the boss of, all she has to do is let out a little cry and I must abandon the bowl of soup so she can feed her first.
She is The Boss of when and if I may pee. If she’s hungry and I have to go, I must hold it to feed The Boss first. If she’s tired and I have to go, I must hold it and rock her to sleep first. She’s also the boss of when I can go #’s 2-5. Holding that aint easy, either, let me tell YOU.
She’s also The Boss of when and if I sleep at night. I thanked her today because she’s been sleeping most of the night for the past 3 nights, but I know that she can change her mind anytime.
I fear The Boss.
I respect The Boss.
But mostly, I love The Boss. She’s the best “Boss of Me” I’ve ever had, even if she does throw up on me 19 times a day.
She’s also the cutest, most beautiful, sweetest boss I’ve ever had. I GLADLY work for her for free, in fact, it’s a priveledge.
Lie to me if you must
Ethan: Mom, you look soooooooo beautiful today.
Me: Aw, thank you. Is it because I’m wearing new clothes and not the same ones I’ve been wearing everyday?
Ethan: It’s everything, mom. It’s your pants, your shirt, your cute sandals, and your makeup looks beautiful.
Me: Ethan Michael, you just made mommy’s day. Thank you!
Ethan: Now can I have that $20.00 you owe me?
But you know what? I’ll take a compliment any way I can get it these days. Seriously. If someone told me my breath didn’t stink too bad, I’d get on my knees and kiss their feet.
I’m in serious need of a “day of beauty”. I haven’t had a haircut since March, my feet are dry, crusty, toenails unpolished, my skin is dry, my face is starting to break out, I smell like spit up titty milk most of the time. So I don’t even care if the kid was just trying to get the money I “borrowed” from his piggy bank to buy lunch because I was too lazy to drive to the atm, I am just glad someone told me I look beautiful.
Even if he didn’t mean it.
Even if I really look like old, crusty, ass.
Still.
Now, you may proceed to tell me nice things, even if you don’t mean them. Things like “I kinda LIKE the bumps in your fat ass.” Or something like that.
We’ll be spending the day at my sisters house near the beach, because it’s going to be 105 freakin degrees out here in the desert, but I refuse to complain because that would make me look like a giant asshole considering what the people in Florida are dealing with right now.
Happy Labor day!
This really is a post about message boards.
I can no longer make fun of Melly for being addicted to Fark for I have become addicted to the Last Comic Standing message boards.
Dude. I know. But I can’t help it. The people take things way too seriously. There like “OH MY GOD, JAY LONDON GOT ROBBED!!!!” Or “THIS SHOW IS TOTALLY RIGGED!!!!!
It started off that I would only go there to read it and laugh at people, but then I started posting messages. And now, I can’t stop.
John Heffron had written an entry on his journal (which appears to be suspended) about how mean people are on the boards. How he thinks it’s stupid that people take time out of their lives to post things like “John Heffron sucks”. He said he thought that employees of every job should have a message board.
“Jack is the worst gap worker EVER”.
Dude, that’s hilarious. Think about it…. Funny.
And then think about how dumb I am for taking time out of my busy day to post about MESSAGE BOARDS. Think about how I could have been doing dishes, or folding the piles of laundry on my couch, or how I could have taken a shower so as not to smell like rotten titty milk. Think about that and then ask yourselves “who the hell is SHE to laugh at the people posting on the message boards. She’s PATHETIC.”
My how time flies…
you hurted my feelings!
The past few days I’ve not felt very good. I’m not sick, but I’ve been very sensitive about things. I cry easily, I get upset quickly, I feel frustrated at the stupidest things. Last night, Tony finally said something about it.
“You’re not doing well, are you sweetie?” He asked.
I broke down. No, I’m not. I’m not worried yet, I know everyone else is though.
“Oh, could this be the post partum depression her doctor warned her about?”
No. It’s not. If you know me at all, you know that I know depression. You know it nearly ruined my life last year. I promised myself if I ever started to feel that way again, I would reach out for help immediately instead of pulling away from the world like I before.
I just think the drastic changes in my life are taking a toll on my body and my mind. The lack of sleep, learning how to divide my time and affection between three children while trying not to ignore my husband in the process. Then there’s the housework, the bills, the homework, family, friends, animals. Oh, and let’s not FORGET THE GRASS that needs to be watered. I just feel extremely overwhelmed right now. Happy, in love, blessed… but overwhelmed.
Tony recognised it because I’ve been extremely sensitive these past few days and I’m normally not the sensitive type. I’m taking things people say to me the wrong way. I’m interpreting everything as a put down, an insult, as mean, as harsh, etc. I recognize that it’s ME and not everyone else. Sensitive y is not a fun person to live with. (I can NOT believe I just referred to myself in the third person.)
I am not depressed, I’m just in a funk and I’m not sure how to snap out of it.
this helps (THE COMMENTS!!!), because it makes me laugh really hard, but perhaps me and the family need a night out of this house…
Poop this
Tony got home from work at 2:45 and went straight to the bathroom to “take out the trash”, as my son would say.
It is now 3:34 3:44 3:49 and he’s STILL IN THERE.
He claims he’s “going poop”. (yeah I knocked on the door and asked him what the hell he was doing in there!) Riiiiight, and I’m just “big boned”.
He does this every day, I say “going poop” my ass. He’s “reading guns and ammo” and “avoiding having to help me.”
Yeah, after 13 years of this, I’m FINALLY ON TO HIM!
I think I’m looooove
I love watching my daughter sleep. She makes these sweet little faces and the most heartwarming sounds you’ll ever hear. Coos and sighs and occasionally she’ll let out the cutest little fart you’ve ever heard. Or she’ll belch so loud, it actually makes me proud. I love to bend down and smell her, then gently kiss her chubby cheeks, or run my fingers softly over her thick, black hair. As I watch her, I think to myself how unbelievable it is that such a beautiful creature was formed inside of my body. And it overwhelms and humbles me.
It’s also a really great way to avoid doing the dishes, ya know what I’m saying?