Ethan had a nightmare last night. I wouldn’t pay attention to him and I loved my friends more than I loved him.
My grandparents are hurt with me because I never make time to see him.
My friends are angry with me because I don’t make time to call them.
My mom is upset because I don’t make time to help her when she needs my help.
My husband is irritated because the house is a mess.
My body is pissed off at me because I haven’t made time to take care of it and work out like I should be.
I’m feeling so confused, so worthless, like I’m horrible mother, friend, daughter, granddaughter.
There are four people in this house who depend on ME to make sure they have everything they need. It is my JOB to make sure that they have clean clothes, that they are fed properly, that they sleep on clean sheets at night, that they get to their doctor appointments, their dentist appointments, their basketball practices, their games on time.
Life with 2 growing boys and an infant is not easy. I love it, but it’s hard. It’s demanding. It is, at times, overwhelming.
There are days where I don’t even have time to take a shower.
Gabby wants to nurse, Ethan wants me to play uno, Andrew wants me to take him to buy paintballs, Gabby needs her daiper changed, Ethan needs me to clip his toenails, Andrew wants me to teach him a chord on the guitar, Gabby is crying and needs to be comforted, Ethan is pissed because I didn’t listen to his story, Andrew needs me to collect and scoop his shit. Gabby needs to eat breakfast but can’t because I have to clean the floor and the carpet because Ethan decided he’d kill all of the ants by SPRAYING ANT KILLER ALL OVER THE CARPET AND FLOOR WHERE MY DAUGHTER CRAWLS AROUND.
Then let’s throw Tony in the mix.
He needs his work clothes washed, he needs me to fax his timecard, to deposit his check, to go buy him beers because OH MY GOD HE’S ALL OUT. He needs sex, he needs his back scratched, he’s out of deodarant, he needs me to make him a dentist appointment…
By the time 9pm rolls around, I realize, wow, I haven’t showered, nor have I brushed my teeth and man, am I hungry because I didn’t have time to eat lunch but it’s too late to make something now because then I’ll be up past 10 doing the dishes and holy crap! I forgot to pay the bills and I need to do that before I go to bed, but I’m so tired and I feel like I’m going to cry because no matter how much I do all day long it’s never enough and by the time I finally crash on the sofa I know that SOMEONE IF NOT EVERYONE IN MY LIFE IS GOING TO FUCKING HATE ME BECAUSE I DON’T PAY ATTENTION TO THEM AND I’M SO SELFISH AND ALL I CARE ABOUT IS MYSELF AND HOW DARE I DON’T TALK TO THEM AT 11PM BECAUSE I’M AN ASSHOLE WHO DOESN’T DESERVE FRIENDS BECAUSE LOOK HOW I TREAT THEM?
I’m so confused right now and not quite sure how to make people in my life understand that I do love them and I’m SO DAMN SORRY for neglecting them but I obviously don’t know how to do all of this and make everyone happy. I don’t even know how to take care of myself.
And blahblahblah, everyone’s life is hard, everyone has a million people pulling them in a million different directions. I’m not trying to make my life out to be so hard that I can’t take a minute to let people know that I love them. Instead, I’m admitting I’m an idiot who gets so wrapped up in my little life here that I fail others miserably. But it’s not out of hate or malice, It’s not for lack of love… IT’S NOT.
My life revolves around those THREE. Count them, ONE, TWO, THREE children and I try my best every minute of everyday to make them happy.
In the process, I’ve neglected the other people in my life, and I don’t know how to make it right.
I don’t want to fall apart here, I’m trying to hold it together, but with each person that tells me how disappointed they are in me, with each person that reminds me what a failure of a human being I am, it’s getting harder to do.
Collect THIS
I’ve changed hundreds of poop diapers.
I’ve had to wash sheets that had poop from a leaky diaper.
I’ve washed dirty chonis with poop-streakmarks.
I’ve looked in the toilet to see the color of my kids poop.
But never in my life, EVER have I had to HOLD A CUP UNDER MY SONS BUTT TO COLLECT HIS POOP and then HAVE TO USE A LITTLE SCOOPER TO DISTRIBUTE THAT POOP INTO TWO SEPARATE CONTAINERS.
He hasn’t had to go since we’ve been home, and I’m thanking God for that because Tony isn’t here to help me because OH MY GOD I CAN NOT DO THAT. I mean, if I just had to put the poop in the container, fine. But to have to actually PUT A LITTLE SCOOPER IN IT and SCOOP IT and PUT IT IN LITTLE BOTTLES?
But it’s my SON’S poop! I should be happy to do it! Because he’s my son! And it’s HIS poop!
It doesn’t matter. It’s POOP. And I’m going to have to GET CLOSE TO IT. And SCOOP IT.
S-C-O-O-P I-T.
I used to be a teachers aide in a kindergarten class. This one time? A little girl threw up during the class, and I, the ADULT in the room, screamed and ran like hell out of the room. I literally screamed “OH MY GOD! SHE JUST PUKED” and I bolted.
I got busted and was given the speech about how “I was the example to the children” and when I “run out hysterical, it makes the children hysterical” and I was paid to make children “feel safe.” Not “Scared.”
I bring that up because, I can not handle bodily fluid issues.
Ask Tony. I’ve never ONCE had to clean up a throw up mess in this house. He’ll do it everytime because I cry and gag and he yells at me “GO AWAY I’LL TAKE CARE OF IT!”
I can honestly say that this, this catching and scooping of the poop, is going to be the hardest, most challenging thing I have ever had to do as a parent.
But I’ll do it because I love my son, I’m worried sick about my son and I want more than anything to know that he is going to be just fine. And when I DO find out that “everything’s fine”? (Thinking positive thoughts, people, because thinking bad thoughts makes me cry) I WILL NEVER, FOR AS LONG AS HE LIVES, EVER!! LET HIM FORGET WHEN I DID FOR HIM THE DAY HE HAD BLOODY POOP!
I don’t blame you if you want to break up with me now.
Dear Internet,
I used to collect Beanie Babies.
And when I say “collect” I mean I’d spend an entire day going from one hallmark store to the other trying to “score” the “good ones” and by “good ones” I mean “the bears”.
“Well, don’t be ashamed, you were young!”
No, Internet, I was like, in my late 20’s and I would say I was “collecting them for my kids” which was funny because a) they never aksed me to collect them b) they would cry when I’d say we were going shopping for beanie babies. c) they pretty much hated them.
I stopped collecting them a couple years ago, but that didn’t stop me from crying when a rat chewed through one of the big bags I had some of my favorite “large sized” bears in and tore them to shreds.
My addiction was so bad, that I actually befriended the cashiers at the Hallmark by my house, and they would CALL MY HOUSE when a new shipment arrived and ask me which ones I wanted so they could put them aside for me. And then, I’d walk into the store like some kind of gangster and give “the look” because NO ONE IN THE STORE COULD KNOW ABOUT OUR SECRET OPERATION!
I still have storage box after storage box full of these things and sometimes? I secretly think that I can make lots and lots of money if I try to sell them on ebay because “HELLO! I HAVE PRINCESS DI! And PEACE BEAR!”
I feel good about the fact I was never One of Those Women who would knock children down to grab the one they wanted, but I feel ashamed that I COLLECTED BEANIE BABIES IN MY LATE TWENTIES.
People tried to help. My sister would say stuff like “That’s just stupid. You could be saving for a house with all of that money!”
I should have listened to her because I don’t have a house, but I sure do have boxes full of really cute beanie babies that me nor my children will never use!
It feels good to get that out and come clean with The Internet.
I’ll never do THAT again.
I thought it would be a Really Great Idea to dress Gabby in her little bathing suit and put pigtails in her hair so she would look SO CUTE when we went to the store.
That was a bad idea.
Everyone was all “Oh my God, she’s so cute!” “Look at her! How precious!” “Aw, she’s got a bathing suit on!”
Of course, she was eating it up and flaunting The Charm.
Out of nowhere, this one dude, said, and I’m NOT EXAGGERATING, PEOPLE, “Oh my God! She looks like a little doll!” then, he walked over to me and said “May I please HOLD HER?”
Um.
Um.
Ummm.
Before I could answer, his wife walked over. “Oh, yes, can he hold her?”
Um. I should have said “What the hell is wrong with you? Of course you may not hold MY baby. You’re complete strangers and how do I know you don’t rub your ass crack and sniff it?”
But I LET HIM HOLD MY BABY.
Shh. Don’t tell Tony that because he will kick my ass and take away my “allowance”.
Of course, she started screaming and crying because “Hi! My mom never leaves me with anyone except my dad and only to go to Target so I’m really attached to her and, dude, I don’t know what you’re thinking but I don’t even let MY GRANDMA hold me!”
I immediately grabbed her away from him and walked away feeling like a Very Shitty Mother.
I know the man didn’t have bad intentions, I didn’t get those kinds of vibes at all, but WHY DID I HAND MY BABY OVER TO HIM?
I know why, because him and his wife caught me completely off guard.
And I wonder, had a little old lady asked me to hold her, would I have thought it was so damn weird that a stranger would ask to hold my baby?
The moral of this story is never take your baby girl to the store in a baby bikini. It makes people lose their damn minds.
(Ok, She asked for it…)
I didn’t INTEND on turning this into a big ball of The Cheese, it just happened, man.
My First Night Out With a Friend post Gabby was awesome.
Jamie Kennedy is hilarious and I could easily fall in love with him if it weren’t for the fact that he looks EXACTLY like my littlest brother. And when I say “exactly” I mean “exactly”.
The comedian who opened the show, Tom Segura, was extremely funny. I’ve added him to the Short List of comedians I love. He should feel special.
I missed Gabby and the boys, but I didn’t call 20396 times to check on them like I thought I would. I only called ONCE! And that picture wasn’t even set up! It was completely real and sincere!
The night was not without Suckage, but nothing serious. The biggest suck of all was the second comedian. Oh, it was painful. I felt sorry for him, man. The funniest suck was what I like to call The All Time Greatest Squish The Foam moment in history. My friend who L-O-V-E-S her some hot wings, ordered a plate of hot wings for dinner. Well, imagine the HORROR when the waitress came back with the order and set THIS on the table.
ARE THEY SERIOUS? Four wings and 2 token celery strips? She was pissed. I was laughing.
“SQUISH THE FOAM! YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO!”
She didn’t “squish the foam” but she did inform the waitress that they need to “put that on the menu” (“that” meaning “$7.95 only buys you FOUR WINGS!)
I did have my first taste of Devil Water since finding out I was pregnant in 2003.
As you can see, that made me happy.
You know what else made me happy?
That I didn’t let The Fat win. That I’m no longer letting The Fat control me. The “old me” would never have left this house to go out and have fun because “I’m fat and I have nothing to wear and all the skinny hot people will throw up when they see me” (And trust me people, skinny, hot people LOVE to go to the Improv and MAN do they love to show off their fake boobs and artificial tans.) But the New and Improved me refuses to NOT LIVE MY LIFE because of my weight. Instead of being ashamed of how I look and my size, I choose to be proud of myself for how hard I’ve worked to lose 55 pounds. Yeah, I still have 50 more to go, but I choose focus on how far I’ve come rather than how far I have to go.
I realize there will still be people who look down on me because of my size, but for the first time in a long time, I also realize that they can fuck off because this isn’t about other people. This is about me living my life to the fullest, no matter what size I wear. I’m so over obsessing about what others will think about me and the size of my ass. Life is too damn short for that nonsense. (but if we’re talking about going to the beach, or any place where a swimsuit must be worn, that’s not considered “nonsense” because HELL NO am I ready to display my ass at the beach yet.)
It probably sounds stupid to most people, but to me? It’s a change of life. I’ve had such a screwed up way of thinking and I’m working hard to change it.
I’ve always believed for some fucked up reason that I can’t do things other people do. Things I want to do? I don’t even try because “I’m too fat.” “I’m too slow”. “I can’t afford it.” “I’m not good enough.”
What a sad way to go through life. Not even trying for fear of failing. For fear of “looking stupid”. For fear of “what will people think.”
To believe you can’t just because you’re you.
Well, last night really opened my eyes to so many things. I’m sick of the time I’ve wasted with that bullshit. So, in honor of trying things I’ve always wanted to do but didn’t because I think I suck too much to succeed? I called Authur Murray dance studios to get information about Salsa lessons.
That’s right, I want to learn to dance Salsa and I’m GOING to learn how to dance Salsa.
Turns out, this was so much more than “A night out” for me, it was a, how does Dr.Phil say it? “A defining moment in my life”.
I might even have a drinky!
Getting ready to go out is easy when you literally only have ONE thing that fits you.
I only mention “going out” because… I’M GOING OUT TONIGHT!! With a friend! No kids! To see Jamie Kennedy at the Improv! DID YOU HEAR THAT?! I SAID I’M GOING OUT TONIGHT!
I’m trying to play it cool and not act too excited about this, but… I’M GOING OUT TONIGHT! WITH A FRIEND! NO KIDS! TO SEE JAMIE KENNEDY!
I hope he doesn’t suck, because, man, I painted my toe nails for him!
I should finish getting ready now, because, I’M GOING OUT TONIGHT!
Dilemma
I have a dilemma.
August 3, my daughter turns a year old. August 8, my husband turns 40. Two very “big, important” birthdays. I want them both to be celebrated, but not sure how to make it happen.
Here’s what I’m thinking about doing.
Combining them.
Like, inviting all of our friends for Tony and all of the family for Gabby (and Tony, of course) and having it at the park with music and games (horseshoes, volleyball etc for the adults) then, having a cake with a picture of the two of them on it, saying something clever about the two of them on it (but, not being clever, I have no idea exactly WHAT it would say)
Is that stupid? I mean, is it mean to not let them each have their own day? I think I could make it really special, but then again, I think I’m funny and most people don’t agree.
The Power of two teeth and squinty eyes
My daughter has learned to use her “Charm” to get what she wants.
A talent that I have never been able to master.
Perhaps it’s because I do not possess the Gift of Charm, (not to be confused with the Gift of Farting on Command, because that gift? I totally possess.)
This little girl, however, is bursting with charm.
And MAN, does she know how to work it.
Example.
She was outside watching her daddy “clean the rocks” he was going to use in the planter out front. She gradually made her way to the bucket full of water and rocks and started touching them.
“Awww” I said, “She’s helping her daddy! How cute! I MUST GO GET THE CAMERA!”
By the time I came out, she had decided she wanted to eat the rocks and bite them with the only two teeth she has.
“No! Don’t put those in your mouth, Mimi.” I said firmly.
Apparently, in baby talk, “no” means “again! do it again!” because the second Tony took one rock out of her mouth, she immediately grabbed another one and shoved it in her piehole as fast as she could.
“G-a-b-r-i-e-l-l-a-m-e-r-c-e-d-e-s, No!” I said even more firmly then the first time.
What does the girl do?
That. That’s what. Everytime we told her no.
And that’s what she does everytime we try to “discipline” (I use the term loosely) her.
Me: “No!”
Her.
Me: “Gabby! Stop!”
Her.
Me: “Biting’s not nice! Be nice!”
Her. (as she bites)
The girl is good. Really good.
Too bad for her, it’s only going to work for SO LONG on me, but her dad? She’ll have him snowed for the rest of his life. I can already tell you people that I’ll be the parent she hates because “I’m mean.” “I never let her do anything” “I always say ‘no’!” “I wrote about her farting on the internet!”
But Dad? Dad will be the hero that saved her from The Mean Mommy.
I can not WAIT to see how right I am on this one.
Because, yeah, we’re TOTALLY fighting about that at the moment.
When grilling burgers, is one supposed to put barbeque sauce on the patties while they’re grilling so as they are to absorb the flavor of the sauce, or after they have cooked all of the way because they don’t actually absorb the sauce and all it does is make a huge mess all over the grill?
Prove me right, Internet.
View THIS.
I have a confession.
I tivo’d The View.
If you knew how much I hate each and everyone of those women, you’d understand how badly it hurt to hit “record”. I haven’t watched them in YEARS, but last night, I saw a commercial that said Dr.Cruise was going to be on and I was like OH I HATE HIM SO I HAVE TO WATCH IT!
I just finished watching it and HOLY SHIT, it was worse than I had imagined it would be.
OH MY GOD.
Each of them kissed his ass profusely, as I expected they would, but WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THOSE WOMEN? It was “katie” this and “katie” that and “you must work out a lot because look at your body”. and “the movie was INCREDIBLE” and “GO GET KATIE WE WANT TO SEE HER BECAUSE THE WHOLE WORLD HASN’T HAD ENOUGH OF YOU BOTH YET SO GO GO OMG HERE SHE COMES EEEEEEEEEEEEE KATIE!”
I would love to “sit down” and “talk” with Mr.Cruise.
“Hey Tom, you recently made comments about Brooke Shields in which you judged her for the way she chose to treat her post partum depression. My question for you is.. When did you grow a vagina? Oh, you don’t have a vagina? Seriously? You mean, you’ve never pushed a human being with a skull and bones out of your twat? REALLY? Then why don’t you shut the fuck up about women’s issues already? Or, better yet? Why don’t you say it to my face, pretty boy? Tell me I was wrong to take medication to keep me from hurting myself YOU BIG STUD. SAY.IT.RIGHT.NOW.”
Why is the media so damn nice to that man? Why do the WOMEN continue to kiss his ass? I think he could say “I beat my wimmins and make them chew my toenails” and the women on The View would be like “You’re amazing, Tom! I’m jealous of Katie!”
Puke.
In other news, I got my hair “cut” today. Only, I chickened out because I’ve become completely attached to my long hair and only got a trim.
I love it though, it’s so fresh and light and shiny and… people? I’M IN LOVE. That’s right. I’m in love with my hair, because my hair is beautiful and compassionate, and my hair cares deeply about people.
YEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSS!