there's no such thing as a free kitten!

My Darling Daughter went on a short trip with her Grandfather to Montana this summer. Now we weren't crazy about this idea to put it lightly, but we relented in an attempt to let her feel a sense of Independence and some other important parenty stuff that I forget now. Long story short with a half broken heart, stomach full of knots and a signed release for medical treatment I let her leave the state.
It went well. she called and sounded sweet and tiny on the phone. She asked if I got her email. Nope sure haven't checked. See in my constant waiting by the phone for the call from the Montana hospital I had neglected my computer. This little yummy sprite of mine persuaded me to get online with promises of an email with pictures of her. I dash to my laptop, when did it get so damn slow turning on? Oh come on, why the hell do I keep a password on this stupid thing?!?! Seriously it never takes this long to download my mail.
There it is! I excitedly open the attachment to find a huge picture of my little girls smiling face, I scroll down. What the hell is that thing, scroll more. She is holding something, what the hell are they letting her mess with there, keep scrolling. It's a freaking kitten! Dear God no! not another animal! But she looks so cute and happy! The kid not the cat. The cat, although cute is nothing but a furry Ball of mischief to me. Absolutely no kitten!
Scroll down more, " Mommy can I please!Please! have this kitten! Her mom gets fluffy fluffy in the winter and I know how you love fluffy cats! Please I love you" . Maybe a kitten.
" So Mommy did you get my email?"
" Well Honey I don't think it's the best idea for you get a kitten right now".
" But I love her!" hysterical sobbing!!!!! ( next is a quote of what I believe she said, but since she was hysterical and kind of sounding like snot was pouring out of her nose I can't be certain. I just know it was graphic!) " she's a barn cat and they'll make her stay outside in the winter and she'll freeze and die and it will be my fault because I couldn't bring her home and she loves me and I never get a pet of my own you bought me a dog but he loves my little brother more and that's not fair I will take care of her she can be my Christmas present I don't want an ipod anymore I want the kitten I love her she'll die outside you can have all my money" (now if you said it in one breath without stopping you have the idea)
" Peanut I don't think Daddy will let you".
"Please Mommy you have to ask him I love you mommy please!"
"She wants the barn cat from Montana"
"absolutely not!"
"She said she wouldn't want an ipod and we can have all her money in the bank"
"ummm, Mommy I meant my piggy bank. You Can have half of my college money though".
"Oh, we can have half of her college money"
"No kitten!"
Complete dramatic hyperventilating sobs are streaming from the phone. "Baby you need to calm down. Your giving yourself an asthma attack over a kitten. Calm down and I will try to talk to Daddy."
"But He's really mean and he's going to say no and my kitten will freeze. She can't be a barn cat she's too nice. Please Mommy!!!!!!!"
"I'll talk to your Daddy. Calm down and go have fun at the horse show."
Well talk I did. I somehow talked him into this kitten that I didn't even want! We arrange for her to be surprised by having the kitten brought from Montana over Labor Day weekend, but that's another story altogether!

NO! it's not my time of the month, thank you!

Why is it that men are allowed to have bad days and we have PMS? For men it's always the excuse that they had a bad day at work, are stressed, so and so pissed them off, etc, etc... Why can't it just be that they are being an a-hole today? It's obvious they are. We all know they are! Yet it's just accepted that Mr. pissypants was set off by something or someone. It's never a mans fault that they're a cyclone of obscenities and attitude. It's societies/ forces that be that provokes the usual calm gentle creature into these outbursts! Well woman on the other hand can have the same moments of, well call it, discontent and we're labeled as having PMS. Certainly if it isn't our time of the month it will be soon! It couldn't be insane children running a muck, terrible traffic, mean bosses, or just the plain fact that we want to make our husbands miserable for a day because they insist we have hormone issues! I'll show you PMS buddy!
Case in point, I don't even have a damn uterus! Not a single ovary in my body, but my grumpy day has to involve my patch. You know the hormone patch that lovingly distributes a continuous even stream of beard prevent estrogen into my system. Ok, a moment of silence for this amazing feat in engineering........... So where was I? That's right! My fabulous ball of man meat, this understanding amazing man I married still pulls the freaking hormone card on me! Insert me stressed out, tired, making dinner while the kids are fighting over oxygen. Here comes the love of my life to affectionately grope me while, we'll say getting something hot as Hades out of the oven. I push said love of my life away and receive scowl of death followed by retort of, " Ohhh, someone needs to change there patch soon!" Really!!!!! Are you serious???? You people heard the part about the even dose of hormone as so on?!?!
So I have noticed that not only do we allow men to push us into this lame ass excuse for having, what are they called, oh emotions, we use it our selves. How many times have you cried over a friend/family member and said " I must be getting ready to get my period" ? Perhaps we need to just face the reality that it isn't your girl bits, it's your brain telling you that they are a crappy friend/relative and you need to stand up for yourself instead of crying on the couch watching Oprah! Just because we have boobs doesn't make us any less entitled to have a bad day just for the sake of having a bad day! So come on ladies, throw out the PMS excuse and embrace the fact that we have every right to feel! And I mean feel whatever you want good, bad and pornographic!( Just know that last word is the only one men will remember from this whole blog)

Leave your monsters at home please!

The summer is almost over even though the scalding sting of misery still radiates from my car every time I open the door. You know when it is so damn hot that your temporarily blinded until your eyes start to water in a desperate attempt to lubricate and or salvage whats left of your eyeballs, yeah that kind of hot! So as I look back at the busy days of the past few months I start to notice what I could only call a pattern. No it wasn't the museum bender the kids and I went on or even the continuous cleaning up of shedded dog fur. It turns out I yelled at what seemed like a back to back line of ill bred, rude, disrespectful children! It's like they all crawled out of some unsupervised hole and ended up in my living room. When did parents stop disciplining their damn kids and why the hell did they keep turning up at my house?
A prime example is the little girl that showed up at my sons 3rd birthday with her uncle. It was the first time I ever saw the devil in a dress, I must say! After some time of her eating candy, of course not forgetting to stuff the melted chocolate covered wrappers between my couch cushions, locking little boys in the bathroom with her ( high school football team will love her one day), and bullying everyone I had enough. I told her repeatedly to knock it off in my not so friendly voice. Her uncle even attempted (insert laugh here) to reprimand her by yelling," why can't you just be normal?!?!? Look at the other kids they aren't acting like you! Just be normal". This is my favorite part, where she kicks him in the chest and jumps off my couch. So amusing, no? I didn't think so either. The last straw came when she locked my 9 year old out her room and got in my face screaming at the top of her lungs that she was playing a game and my daughter is rude because she is bothering her. This little piece of sunshine had they nerve to tell me I better make my daughter behave! Oh hellllll no! Insert me, irate, hair blowing back in mysterious wind whilst I summon the powers that be, channeling evil itself " Look little girl I don't know who you think you are or where you think your at, but you will never speak to anyone like that again in my house, do you hear me? What are you like 4 years old? There are a whole lot of corners in this house and don't even think I won't put you in one. Don't you ever disrespect anyone in my house again!" Wide eyed and stunned she backs out of the room. I calmly go find her uncle and tell him, " yeah your niece is probably going to say your friends wife is mean, I'm ok with that."
These kids haven't all been strangers either! I had one of my daughters friends come over for a few hours. It all seemed fine, nothing major, that is until her mom came. We were talking back and forth when the charming 9 year old in question blurts out, " Mom, your so full of crap your eyes are turning brown!" Gasp, cough, the horrible knowledge that I am about to witness this child be physically abused in my own house, mingled with the idea that she kind of deserves it. My panic is broken when her mom bursts out laughing, " I say the same thing to you! HAHA! She is just too funny sometimes." I try to smile and look at my own 9 year old who's mouth is still open. After the girl leaves me daughter goes," Mom I don't really understand what she said but I don't think it was very nice, was it?" That's my girl!
Exhibit 3, even less of a stranger! Some relatives came to town and I let the two girls stay with us for the night. I have never heard kids talk back, bicker, and blatantly disobey adults so much before in my life! There was just a constant blur of rudeness! My husband was telling them to keep it down at bedtime because, " like your father I have to get up early in the morning to go to work." "well my dad doesn't have to go to work tomorrow!" I do have to admit it was pretty brave because my husband tends to be pretty scary to kids, that being said I was very proud of my husband who simply took a deep breath and told them he did have to get up at 4 am and if they didn't keep quite he would be back to drag one of them out of the room and make them sleep on the couch. Come on I found that very civil!
To be fair my summer was infringed on by rude children everywhere we went. Like the tween boy at the children's museum that put his hands on my toddler to push him out of the way. Now I don't know if it was the mother hen in me or the evil bitch, but I told him he might want to reconsider ever putting his hands on my kid again. Then I pointed out the other kids I was there with and basically informed him they were off limits too. I then glared at him until he knew I was dead serious and a bit frightened of what I was capable of. From that point on I smiled warmly at him whenever we were in the same part of the museum until he was so freaked out by my apparent mental imbalance that he would walk away.
Now the point of all of this isn't just that I met some pretty horrible kids, the point is somewhere in the background there were some pretty horrible parents that dropped the ball! Come on people! Wake up and be parents! Were aren't raising kids here, were raising adults! You can pretend to be their best friends all you want, it still comes down to the fact that one day they will be teenagers and they will HATE you! There is no getting around it. For several years we will all be uncool, mean, controlling,embarrassing and not know what it's like to be "them". At least prepare them to function in society. Let them have the tools to be respected because if they stop turning to you, which they will, they have to turn to someone. Do you really want them turning to the wrong people because they where such a-holes as kids no proper, loving person will be there to support them. I know it's harsh but it's true! The more you can say," I know one day your going to hate me for a few years but I am going to still love you and enforce the rules" the better a parent you can be. If you really want to be a good friend, discipline your kids so your friends don't have to put up with your little monsters!

High School? Where's the love?

I am an adult, at least that is what my drivers license tells me. I am as you noticed a mommy just like so many other grown up mommies. So why do I feel like I am in high school when ever I am around said grown up mommies. I am painfully aware that I am not like any of them, but I am OK with that. In fact I wouldn't really want to be like most of them. It's like the older we all get the more they need to hold onto petty fronts. They feel like they need to prove they are whatever they think people should perceive them to be. As if letting the facade drop for ten minutes would suck the youth out of them. They hide behind their false smiles and false interest just as they hide behind their Botox. Please don't pretend to be concerned about my life and I will pretend not to notice the shallows of your soul. As I stand at my daughters school it is just like high school, but worse. People stand cold and fixed a few feet away from one another, acting as if they are the only person breathing that air, or they stand engaged in meaningless conversations thinking how they would rather be the only person breathing that air. They all coexist, no one reaches out no one takes in, the just... exist.
It terrifies me that one day my child could turn into one of these transfixed hollow souls. I want her to love, reach out of herself. I want her to feel other peoples love, pain and happiness. I want her to feel her own happiness and even occasional pain. Most importantly I want her to feel she can share it with someone else! I want her to believe in friendship. I want her to be true and lay it all out on the table no matter what other people might think, because in the end you can only be loved for who you are and not for who you want others to perceive you are.
I might be odd, I might be different from the other mothers, but I am me. I am obnoxious and forward. I am sensitive but forgiving. I will say the things you wish you had and occasionally you wish I hadn't. I am embarrassing and proud. Once I love you I will never let it fade, no matter how much you hurt or betray me. Granted I might not talk to you anymore, but you will still fill my heart. I would give you all I could till it sucks the life out of me, and if you loose yours I will get a tattoo to feel you with me everyday. That is how it should be! Friendship should be blessing, not a chore. You shouldn't have to work to be loved and you should never have to work to give it.
I am lucky. I have a few friends that accept or shall I say pleasantly tolerate me just as I am. I have had a friend since I was 6 years old and holds my life history in her heart, I have been blessed by new friend that completes my family, I have mourned friends longer than I had the gift to hold them, I have met friends that I wish will fill in the blanks of my life. I think the most magical part of friendship isn't just being loved but loving back. There is something raw about opening your heart wide and allowing another person inside to do what they wish with it. So yes, some saying receiving love is the greatest gift, don't forget giving it. To receive love is easier than trusting someone to be kind to your heart in return.
So let go, open up and let me find my snugly spot, I'm here to stay!

okay I'm back!

So here I am again, typing, thinking. That can be a pretty bad combination I tell you. It has been some time since I have brought myself back to this place. There are perhaps a few reasons, none of them good. I guess in the end I am stuck against the wall in the haunting reality of actually doing something with my words. Letting them escape from my mind and into yours is so frightening. Like those dreams when you are nude in front of the whole class and your penis is too small or you didn't shave. Something potentially scarring like that. I want to be heard, I want to call out but the echo can be overwhelming. So here I am, hoping all of my kind readers have not abandoned me as I have you. It was a moment, OK months of weakness, I'm sorry! I vow to suck it up and be what I need to be, a writer. It is in me trying to escape, pouncing on unsuspecting friends during e mails. Now truly that is no way to treat my delicate rants, is it? So hold on: I'm back! I apologize in advance for any times I have or will offend you.

More times I wanted to crawl in a hole!

Do you ever hear things coming out of your kids mouths and instinctively want to cram it back in, or even pinch them really hard? This is my life. These moments of horror are filled in with moments that have to look at my daughter and just shake my head. So now i will dictate out a few of the old mommy traumatic conversations:
We are at Discount tire speaking with a very sweet old lady. I am certain she has left some cookies baking in the oven. My little girl is about 2 1/2 at this time. The lady is marveling at how well my daughter speaks. In her marvel she naively engages her in a discussion about what a big girl she is.
" You are very smart. Such a big girl."
Me," Thank you"
"She speaks so well and is absolutely beautiful" My daughter is dancing in the glory of these compliments by now.
Me," Thank you, the trick is getting her to stop!"
Her'" I'm a big girl. My mommy is a big girl too. My Daddy has a big penis"
" Excuse me dear?'" No doubt a breath away from reciting a hail Mary.
Me," Come over hear dear and let this nice lady have some peace and quite"
I attempt to appear unnerved as I scoop her up and venture outside to find Daddy. As the door closes I swear I hear the sound of nails on a rosary, but I could be paranoid!

After a very lengthy afternoon of nonstop gabbing from my beloved little one, we stop for lunch. Daddy runs in to grab our food, seeing as I don't eat in public (acknowledging the craziness here give me credit). I suggest , OK I may have used a slightly threatening tone, that my daughter not talk for the next five minutes. Something about mommy on the verge of an aneurysm. Minute 1, she does well, minute 2 holding on, minute 3 a bit fidgety, minute 4 about to burst from within. I actually hear a whistling sound coming out of her ears, maybe not. Minute 5 " SOOOOOOO, what do you know about squirrels, I know they eat nuts and stuff!!!!" all in one breath. All I can do is turn and look at her. The weirdest part is we live in the desert. I don't think she has even really seen a squirrel before.

One day we head out to the new shiny Smith's down the street. Nothing interesting happens so I will jump to the check out line. It seems to always go down in the check out line! The nice cashier in her crisp new vest, complete with fold lines, offers my girl a sticker and asks how she is doing. " I'm good. I start school soon and my Daddy's at the psych hospital!" The woman's Chiclet smile twitches a bit and she uncomfortably looks my way." NO! NO! Daddy is helping to build the psych hospital!!" Then I have to blurt out the hole story about his going to help put the finishing touches on the mental hospital opening next week. I don't think I inhaled between sentences because I was dizzy and sweating as we walked away. So now that he is building the prison we made sure to teach her " Daddy is BUILDING the prison, not AT the prison".

We have always been honest with our daughter about body parts. As you can tell by the penis episode before mentioned. We only give her information we find suitable for her age. People assume that since she knows vagina that she knows some gratuitous information on the part. Totally not the case, until.... When I was pregnant with sweet little DD I would receive the emails detailing the growth of the baby, how fat your feet should be and the best way to treat those pesky hemorrhoids. You know the emails! They have the side profile drawing of the baby's development in the uterus. My daughter loved to see that her brother finally had legs or eyelashes. So one day we are looking at the profile of Jane pregnant lady. My daughters eyes squint a bit and she gets a weird look on her face. Her porcelain face smooths as she is filled with a moment of clarity. " Mommy, did you know the baby is going to come out of your vagina??? Are you ready for that?!?!?!?!" She peers at me a bit nervous and somewhat disturbed. I try to scan the page for the word " vagina", nowhere. " So, how did you figure that out? " My six year old looks at me like I'm an idiot for thinking she is an idiot, at this point we are visually insulting each other. " I just looked at the picture. It seems to be the only way out. It's gonna hurt you!"
" Yes, I am aware of the hurting thing. Thanks"

Too gross to title...

Poor Darling D is on Augmentin to clear up his unfortunate case of ear cooties. He seems to be improving thankfully! He was finishing breakfast while I filled the tub with his inch and a half of water and prepared his Vaseline covered cotton balls( I will be so grateful when we pass the month mark on this tube situation and we can bath like normal). I go to get the delightful little buddy from his high chair. Such a happy boy! I lift him up , down his leg runs the Mississippi River, minus the the pee! It is straight down his pudgy leg resting at his ankle. I am startled and confused for a split second, reality comes across me," BRACKEN, HELP!!!!!!!" He runs in, surveys the situation and backs away a little. Now my husband, you must understand, has a huge aversion to poop. He will change diapers and things like that, but once it has left its little absorbent containment unit, he is done. He gags and coughs, laughs and yells. It is actually a very funny scene on the rare occasion that we have a blowout emergency. He looks at me with his pleading eyes, I think he is considering attempting to run to the garage. Like a good man he stays. I yell for him to grab the baby's wiggly foot before the brown lava can drip off onto the floor. He winces grabs on and we run to the bathroom. We look at the meager inch and a half of fluid in the tub," I don't think that's going to help," he says. I stand the drippy boy in the tub look at removing his overalls, not a chance. We proceed to hose him off, fully clothed, with the shower attachment. All the while my fabulous husband is yelling out things like: Gross, on my God it's everywhere, no no don't touch that buddy, your so nasty little boy, it isn't coming off. Add a few gags, coughs and my hysterical laughter and you have America's funniest home video, good times! After significant hosing I remove the baby's clothes then eventually his diaper. He is sitting pleasantly in the tub loving the refreshing spray of the water. He occasionally tries to pick up some of the stew like diaper contents as they cruise toward the drain, so foul. We have to keep grabbing his hands and rinsing them, please do not put them in your mouth for the love of all things holy! I finish him off my washing him with soap head to toe twice, three times for his little mitts, and get him out of the tub. I run D to his room whilst wiping the tears from my eyes on the towel and quickly wrap a fresh diaper on his bottom. I briefly wonder if two would be helpful, I just did it tighter than usual. Damn, he has been trying to walk a lot lately, he needs to feel his legs, I loosen it a hair. I mention to my husband that the high chair is full of poop. " Your taking care of that! I did the hard part already". For all of you that didn't know it "the hard part" is apparently holding a shower hose yelling like a girl while your wife scrapes crap out of the baby's ass crack. As you probably already figured out, he's cleaning the high chair! Since he has said aversion to fecal matter and refuses to touch such substance he proceeds to drag the chair in the front yard and hose it off! I am dead serious! I can imagine what the neighbors saw. Plus I can't help but think it will mange to attract wild animals to our yard, thanks dear.



Before posting this I read it my husband who wants to state that he was not gagging or coughing and I am exaggerating!