it's coming.

right now, it's slated to be the header for my blog sale site {which is still very much a work in progress because, quite frankly, i've been too lazy to photograph & list everything}.  

however...

this may wind up being the header for a site where i may or may not peddle my hand-made goods. 

we'll see.

letting off some steam.

disclaimer:  this is long & whiny.  read at your own risk.  you'll see the eff word.  i don't care if you're offended.  this is my pity party.  not yours.  neener, neener, neener!


i woke up this morning & read the riot act to everyone who crossed my path - adam, the kids, the dog.  the cats were spared {they were already outside}. 

it was just an overall bad morning.  a bad morning that had been building for days.  something is going on and it's just been bubbling up festering inside of me.  my unpleasant demeanor as of late closely resembles the "me" that i was not long ago when i was working with my husband:  stressed.  tired.  depressed {this is quite the possibly my problem, period}. 

adam's been short lately, too.  more than likely, his snippy 'tude is due to my "i just don't give a fuck" attitude.  and, quite frankly, i really just don't give a fuck.

don't get me wrong...i love my kids.  i love myself.  i love my husband.  i just don't like him very much right now.  no reason, i just don't.  and, it's okay for me to say that.  {ha. how funny is it that i have a 'sweet' blog post about us - adam & i - scheduled for tomorrow?!}

i've been doing lots of thinking lately.  random, a.d.d. kind of thinking.  one minute i'm here.  one minute i'm there.  i'll be thirty-three this year and i can honestly say that i did not picture my life turning out the way that it has. 

i really don't live with any regrets; however, if there was some way for me to erase the last two years, i would.  you know the trick where someone pulls a table cloth off the table without disturbing everything that's on the table? good.  well, you know how if the trick gets botched {i.e., the table cloth isn't pulled fast enough} everything on the table comes crashing down?  that's me & how i'm feeling.  except, in my case, the table cloth was completely pulled out and everything still came tumbling down.

{did i lose you?}

i try to focus on the positives.  i do.  i have awesome kids.  i have an honest, hard-working husband.  i have a family that loves me dearly.  i am healthy.  i am working.  i have a home.  i have friends i can turn to.  i have the Lord. 

but, the buts...oh, the buts...why am i still sad?  why am i unhappy?  is it, like my sweet pal, gussy, says, the d?  {um, that would be the debbil.}  maybe.  maybe it is.  no, i know it is.  i know for a fact that, in some ways, it is.  why?  because...well, i just know.  but - here we go again with those buts - it's mostly just me.  i'm my own reason for my unhappiness.

why?

i think...no, i don't think...i KNOW that i am not satisfied with where i am currently in my life.  i'm lost.  i really am.  still aimlessly wandering. 

did you know that i have yet to complete the masters in elementary education degree i started four years ago?  i want to finish the degree, but because i dropped out of school, i pretty much forfeited my graduate school career and sent my grades straight down the shitter.  in my defense, however, making sure my momma survived her battle with breast cancer was more important to me than earning another degree.  and, now that i am feeling the urge to return to school, i don't think i want to be a teacher anymore. oy.

did you know that money is a big stressor in my life?  it is.  there's never going to be enough of it, but when your family's income is cut by more than half there's really never going to be enough.  throw in the fact that we have a shit ton of debt and, well, no wonder i have gray roots!  we are not rich by any stretch of the imagination.  paycheck to paycheck is where it's at.  but, on a good note {hooray}, we've reduced our total debt {credit cards} by a little more than half in the four years we've been tackling them.  four years.  oy.

did you know that my husband was betrayed by his own father?  well, he has.  you don't know how my husband has been hurt by his own father {well, some of you do}.  it's not good.  i'd say more, but my father-in-law reads my blog {which is why i am tinkering with the idea of going private} and he would try to use this against me if he could.  but, he can't because i didn't say who, what, when, where, why or how...so there.

did you know that while i may have a job, i just don't envision it as a career?  isn't that funny...because not long ago i was gushing about how happy i was.  i mean, i'm still happy with my job.  i just want more.  which is probably why i'm thinking about school again.  i don't have a career like some of y'all do {have you seen my resume?}.  but, maybe there is a reason for all of this.  maybe i'm wanting things to happen too soon.  or, maybe it's like my sister said...my family is my career. 

did you know that i feel very inadequate, less than stellar, second-class and/or not worthy at times?  i do.  i've never been "the cool kid" or part of "the 'in' crowd."  but, it's not just that.  i just feel different at times.  judged.  dissected.  cast off.  alone.

there's a lot going on in this head of mine, isn't there?

*sigh*

if momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.  and this momma needs to be happy.

{source}

the aftermath.

As I type this on my Crackberry, all I can hear is the hum of the generator and the screeching sound of sirens. The only news updates I get are by way of tweets that the City of Virginia Beach and the Virginian Pilot put out on Twitter. Oh, and from the phone calls I receive from my parents who live just south of Washington, DC.

We are still without electricity. Its been this way for over 12 hours now. The electric company is hoping to restore power by 10pm on the 15th. Um, that's Sunday...today is only Friday (the 13th, too, no less).

I can't complain too much...the generator has kept our refrigerator and deep freeze running, its allowed me to make coffee and its charging my cell phone. And, while it sucks that the yard is a mess and I can't use my hair dryer today or watch QVC, at least I know my family (and friends) are safe.

Its still breezy and the sky is still spitting rain...but the remnants of Ida turned nor'easter is nothing compared to storms I've been in...storms some of you all have been in...

But, somethings gotta give. While I am grateful to be at home again today (my mental health really needed it), let me just tell you that being stuck at home with two kids and a puppy has not been a walk in the park. We are only on day two and cabin fever has set in. I am tired of breaking up fights about flashlights. I hate how the kids are trying to be louder than the generator -- and its outside! I think they are being silly when they won't go to the bathroom because its dark.

Thank goodness I have my lifeline...this Crackberry...and cold beer in the fridge (and, no, I am not drinking right now...what do you think I am, an alcoholic?!).

I wonder if the mall is open?? I could use a little retail therapy right about now, too.

CAN YOU HEAR THAT?

No, you can't? Well, of course you can't...it's called silence! Sweet, wonderful, amazing silence!

The kids went to bed a couple hours ago. The hubs is, much to my dismay, passed out on the couch, but even he, too, is quiet. Well, I hope I just didn't jinx myself because he snores louder than a hibernating grizzly bear. (Just a side note, he had a "hard" day at work today...playing golf, drinking beer, eating tilapia for dinner...*cough*that's bullshit*cough*) Who knows where the cats are...hopefully they are sleeping, too, and not plotting against me (as usual) and coordinating a group effort to bring an even bigger animal into the house than last time.

I love it when the house is quiet. Aside from the gentle hum of the dishwasher and the tapping of keys on the keyboard, the house is asleep. Peaceful. Quiet. In a deep slumber. I suppose that is what I should be doing, too. You know, enjoying the fact that everyone is already in bed...that my gloriously comfy bed is wide open and will be mine all night (because, yes, I am that wife who will leave her snoring husband on the couch)...that's my cue for some shut-eye, too, right? Nah. Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to use this time to fold laundry or tidy up the living room. No sir. Instead, I think I'll fix me a big ole bowl of Edy's Rocky Road, watch some TV and maybe then I'll call it a night.

MOMMY, ARE YOU LISTENING?

My son asked me that today as we were driving to his sister's school to pick her up. He was telling me a story about how one of his friend's hurt his feelings this morning in class. I was paying attention to the traffic in front of me and humming to a song that was on the radio. I was listening to him, but certainly my attention was not completely directed towards him.

And he called me out.

I'm not going to lie. I don't always pay attention to my children. It doesn't make me a bad mother...it makes me a smart mother. I've perfected the art of ignorning a whining, crying child in a shopping cart while trying to wheel $200 worth of groceries through a packed Wal-Mart on a Sunday afternoon. I've become a professional at ignoring the bickering that goes on at the kitchen table during the school week when both children are supposed to be eating their oatmeal. I'm an expert at ignoring their begging and pleading to do something else when they know they should be cleaning their room or getting ready for bed. See, you really don't always have to hang onto every last word that comes out of your child's mouth. If I did, I would have had myself institutionalized by now.

My children receive all the love, attention and affection that they could ever possibly want. I sit and listen to their stories. I laugh at their silly knock-knock jokes. I ask them about their day and how they are feeling.

I do listen.

And, there are times when I don't listen -- when I choose NOT to listen. It's like a switch that I can flip on or off inside of my head. Just ask any mother and I'm sure she's probably got the same internal switch. It's like we have a mute button built into our brains. It's not the same as selective hearing that only seems to afflict men and dogs...our ability to know when to listen and when not to listen is far more sophisticated than that. As a mother, I (well, we) just know. And, even when we're choosing not to listen we really are still listening...we're just not letting it be known.

THAT WAS THE BEST SLEEPOVER EVER!

I'm on the assumption that the number one sign of sleepover success is a room that looks the same as my daughter's did (see above) the morning after she had six of her friends spend the night for her birthday. And, to think, we spent the morning of the sleepover cleaning her room and putting everything in it's place. I mean, I don't mop before we have friends over for a cookout, so why did I ever possibly think that it would have been necessary to reorganize and power clean an 8 year old's bedroom just hours before her friends showed up??

MOMMY JUICE

In certain circles, some say that I'm an alcoholic. In other circles, I'm a casual drinker...ya know, every now and again. And, in a few select circles, I'm that girl who gets out from time to time (with or without the hubs) and has no problems bellying up to the bar having a few drinks.

I am in no way, shape or form an alcoholic. And, don't go giving me that "I'm denying my so-called alcoholic status because denial is the first sign of addiction" crap. You can keep the bullshit to yourselves. I have had four beers in the last three weeks, well, since we left Mexico on February 27th! Yeah, that really makes me an alcoholic, eh?

Fact of the matter is, I'm a mother who likes to induldge from time to time in adult beverages. I pick and choose when and where I am going to imbibe. I decide how sloshed I want to become -- and, for the record, I've never blacked out or done any dumb shit while "under the influence" unless you count drunk (or, as I like to say, DUNK) texting and then I'm definitely guilty of that. Also, most of my buzzed shenanigans occur within the four walls of my humble abode. So there.

I'm a smart gal who knows her limits. I good at picking my poison, too. Some days I just want an ice cold beer while other days I would prefer some Canadian Club & ginger ale. Mmm...Canadian whiskey. Most of the time I settle for wine. Ah, wine. Good ole MOMMY JUICE. You can never go wrong with a glass (or four bottles) of wine. Red is my favorite color, but I'm not so much into red wines. Gimme a good Chardonnay, a crisp Riesling or a yummy Pinot Grigio (mmm...so tasty!) any day and I'll be your friend for life.

I currently have three opened bottles of wine in my fridge, three bottles in the rack and two bottles stashed at a friends house (ha!). Adam tried to dump my stash over the weekend. What the heck is wrong with you? Those are perfectly fine! I mean, so what if there are two bottles of Moscato wine in the fridge -- they're by different brands and taste totally different. And, don't go messin' with my $12 bottle of Duplin blackberry wine from Wal-Mart, OK? (Yes, $12 blackberry wine and, yes, it's from Wal-Mart...hey...don't be hatin'...haven't you tried their $2.95 wine? I have.)

So, where am I going with all of this? No, I'm not drinking while I'm writing this either. Oh, yeah...I'm a mom. And, I'm a mom who likes to drink...not in excess, but in moderation. Don't hate me because I have a "Floozie" for my beer. Don't hate me because sometimes I drink a bottle of wine all to myself. Don't hate me because, gasp, there is beer, wine and liquor in my house.

I'm a mom. A busy mom. And, like most other busy moms, I enjoy some time to myself...time to unwind. And, if my "unwind time" involves a glass or three of a fine tasting adult beverage then so be it. *CHEERS*


So, after typing this, hitting "publish post" and then re-reading the blog entry, I guess it really does sorta kinda make me seem like an alcoholic. LOL But, I swear. I'm not. Far from it. Caffeine addict, yes, but hooked on alcohol, no. No one at home, including myself, has been harmed in any way because mommy likes to drink every now and again so don't go calling C.P.S. on me.

The Witching Hour

Back in the day when my children were toddlers, the witching hour would bestow it's presence upon us on a regular basis. Daily. And, sometimes for hours at a time.

Tantrums would be thrown, patience would be tested, messes would be made, crying would ensue, headaches would come and go. As crazy as it would seem, all would be right with the world once whichever child it was settled down and got a grip on reality. The same went for mom and dad, too.

It wouldn't be right of me to say that the witching hour has completely departed from our lives because it hasn't. Of course, now my children are older and the witching hour is more like the witching day or days. Yes, that would be a plural variation of the word day. Uh, huh...D-A-Y-S. With a bossy 8 year old trying to rule the roost and a defiant 5 year old acting either as the partner in crime or the arch enemy, the witching hour has found a permanent place in our home. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, knows when the witching hour will strike. It could be first thing in the morning -- the kids haven't even brushed their teeth yet and they're already at each others' throats. Or, it could be during dinner -- one child is talking over the other. Or, it could be at bed time -- neither child wants to go to bed because they swear it is thundering & lightning outside (when it's really 35 degrees outside and lightly raining).

And, I'm not gonna lie, the kids aren't the only ones pitching fits around this household anymore. Although, Adam won't admit that he acts like a witch...rather than turning green and sprouting a pointy, black hat, he just turns green and grows big muscles. Ha!

Yeah, I snap every now and again. What's wrong with that? What mom doesn't?? I mean, the people living under this roof had better recognize just how important I am to their daily functioning. Like that saying goes, if momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy - or something like that. Yes, I have evolved into the wicked witch herself. Fortunately, tossing water on me doesn't make me go up in smoke and I'm not being crushed by a house (unless you count our crazyridiculous mortgage payment as being sorta-kinda like a house and, well, that's a different story). I have my moments, too. I'm either barking orders or breaking down because my micromanagement skills seem to fail me from time to time.

Ah, well. Once the kids are tucked into bed, the house is quiet and I have a glass of wine in my hand, all seems right with the world again and that inner witch of mine simmers down and saves her stamina for another day.

THE COLD SIDE OF THE PILLOWS

Sleep hasn't been my friend lately.

I don’t know if it’s because our time had to go and spring forward – yes, I’m still upset that I was robbed of one precious hour of sleep. I’m seriously convinced that the magical hour that was taken away was KEY to me getting an adequate amount of sleep every night. But, whatevs, I won’t get that hour back until the fall so what can I do about it? And, no, I will not try to go to bed an hour earlier.

I don’t know if it’s from stress. I mean, it’s possible. It’s quite ridiculous some of the things I think about while trying to fall asleep. My mind starts to race the very minute I close my eyes – it’s so sad. But, I’ve been trying really hard to clear my mind and my thoughts before bedtime. I really have.

I don’t know if it’s my habits – the good ones and the bad ones. The good – I’ve been really faithful about drinking enough water every day, so maybe it’s my multiple trips to the bathroom that keep me from falling asleep as fast as I should. The bad – I’ve tried very hard to limit my computer time after dark. As silly as it sounds, sitting up and staring at your computer monitor starts to mess with your circadian rhythm and, if that’s the case, mine is already messed up thanks to the time change.

I don’t know if it is unnecessary excessive noise that’s keeping me awake – and the unnecessary excessive noise I’m referring to is my husband’s God awful snoring! I mean he should really try using those Breathe Right strips or just sleep on the freakin’ couch. No one in their right mind – and I don’t care how tired you are – can fall asleep with all the noise he’s making.

All I know is that I toss and turn...turn and toss.

I get up. I lay back down. I try watching television. I try reading. Sometimes, I try to blog. I check on the kids. I go pee. I toss and turn some more. I kick Adam. Sometimes, I get a snack.

When I do finally manage to make myself stay in bed and I find my eyes starting to close, I bury myself in the covers. I need darkness. I need silence. I stuff my head between two pillows. And, as always, I must have the cold side of the pillows up against my skin. Maybe then I will finally fall asleep.

The pillow picture is from Country Living.

Budget be damned...I want clearer skin!

Well, I guess I should start off by saying that I have pretty decent skin. No, I'm not being stuck up, I really do have nice skin. I've been told that by friends, family and aestheticians. But, I want to take care of my skin and get rid of these pesky blackheads and make my pores appear smaller.

Once upon a time I was a faithful facial girl. But, that was many, many, MANY months ago back when I really didn't give a damn about dropping between $60 to $80 at a time to have someone professionally clean my skin. Ah, those were the days! Yeah, those really were the days because I would also treat myself to a pedicure, too. But...

Here I am, a 30 something mother of two who has semi-sensitive and slightly temperamental skin (I fluctuate between an oily/normal to dry combo...it's fabulous to have a shiny ass nose and a dry, flaky chin...at the same time...not). I think I take good care of my skin. I wash and moisturize faithfully every day. I use sunscreen. I'm brand/product loyal and I've been using Philosophy's skin care line for YEARS (and trust me, I've used many skin care lines over the years including Proactiv, Dermalogica, Biore, Neutrogena, Bliss, Joey New York, L'Oreal, Cetaphil, etc...yes, I'm a beauty/skin care product whore!). Anyway, tonight I was in bed watching QVC and (yes, I actually got up out of bed to type this but that's a whole 'nother ranting blog post in itself) and they were talking about the Clarisonic Skin Care Brush. I've seen it before on QVC and in the Bliss catalogs I receive every month. I've even seen the cheaper knock-offs in the discount stores. I've always wondered how well the Clarisonic cleans and whether or not it's really worth the money -- the Clarisonic, which is made by the same people who make the Sonicare toothbrushes (funny, I use a plain jane manual toothbrush), retails for damn near $200.

Wow. $200. $200 for a spinning brush that will supposedly help me clean my skin even better than I am cleaning it now -- or so I think I'm cleaning it.

I read the testimonials, I saw the photos and, I'm almost ashamed to say, that I finally succumbed to my curiosity and I just ordered the sucker from QVC. Thank goodness for the four payment option! At least this makes my new $200 face brush a bit more budget friendly and I don't have nearly the amount of buyer's remorse I would have had if I had purchased it outright for the full price.

So, here's to cleaner, clearer skin -- you had best believe that I'm going to charge that sucker up once I receive it and use it faithfully two times a day. And, hopefully, my new $200 friend will make my skin look as if I'm spending $$$ every month on facials and other beautification rituals.


OH - and the best part?? I bought this at QVC online via Ebates so I get 3% BACK of the total amount I've spent. Yes, that's right - 3%. It's not much, but it adds up. It actually pays to shop! Wait...what's that you're saying? You're not Ebating? Well, then you need to click here.

Seriously - sign up, it's free and you've got nothing to lose and only money to gain! You get paid quarterly and I've already earned two checks totalling nearly $150. Don't believe me? Then click here to read a post I made about my first Ebates check.

Must. Have. Some. Self. Control.

Ha!

Self-control...what in the hell is that?

I sure don't have any of it, especially when it comes to things like, oh, shopping, bitching and eating. Eating. It's been my downfall lately. Well, not so much eating, but snacking. I like to snack. Very much. I snack while working. I snack while fixing dinner. I snack at 9pm while watching television. I'm ashamed to admit that I've even snacked in bed.

I don't know if it's like a permanent PMS thing I've got going on -- ya know, hormone-related crap. I don't know if it's because I work in an office full of chocolate-addicted women -- could be. I don't know if it's the weather -- because this warm, cold, sunny, cloudy pattern sucks.

I just don't know!

What I do know is that my eating habits have turned to crap (and it's good to know I'm not alone...go read J-Ko's latest blog entry, "Sex and the Mommy"). I mean, just yesterday afternoon I was stuffing Thin Mints into my mouth as I'm sauteeing broccoli in olive oil and garlic (hey, at least I was fixing a healthy side for dinner, right?). Girl Scout cookies should be listed as the 8th deadly sin...am I the only one who thinks this? The other day I opened the freezer for a sweet treat and I totally bypassed the frozen strawberry popsicle things for an ice cream sammich. Oh, did I fail to mention that this was like around 9:30 at night? Yeah. Yesterday, for lunch, I rekindled my love affair with Taco Bell and gorged myself on soft taco supremes...I saved the bean burrito I bought for today's lunch. Earlier this week I had a #1 from Wendy's and today I totally devoured some waffle fries from Chick-Fil-A after I already had lunch. Shoot --this whole month has just been bad. I mean, a beer binge in Mexico, eating my weight in meat at the Brazilian restaurant in Atlanta, pizzas from Pizza Hut for dinner...no wonder my energy level is next to nothing and my muffin top is looking oh, so fab.

Something's gotta give...but not after we have ice cream cake tonight for my daughter's birthday. Tomorrow's another day, right? A new beginning. The perfect time to start working on that self-control. Maybe.

If you can't drive, then stay off the roads!

Once again, I followed an idiot to work this morning.

My commute to work this morning -- all ten whopping minutes of it -- was pretty uneventful. Traffic was light and people actually drove the speed limit! Of course, all of that changed once I turned into the back entrance of the commercial/industrial area where our office is located. I was following a pick-up truck down the road when it just stopped.

STOPPED...right foot on the brake and not on the gas...STOPPED.

The truck is stopped right in a 3-way intersection. I'm behind the truck with my turn signal on because I need to turn right to get to the office. I know the driver of the pick-up truck can see me because the truck had those really wide side-view mirrors on it (because God knows there was no way to see me out of the back of the truck with all the crap he had piled in the bed of the truck!).

Anyway, I guess the driver of the truck was lost or didn't follow whatever directions he had because next thing I know is that the truck is in REVERSE. Hello!? Um, do you not see me in my little Nissan Altima with my turn signal on behind you? Fortunately, there was enough room for me to scoot by the truck and turn onto the next street.

Seriously, though, the truck could have just continued going straight and turned around in the cul-de-sac that was straight ahead (I guess he didn't realize that the particular road we were on was a dead end). Somehow just throwing the truck in reverse seemed like the most viable option irregardless of who or what was behind him. Thank goodness there was room for me to escape because if I had to spend my morning laying on my horn & shouting expletives it would have made for a very bad day.

Wait...I did lay on my horn & shout expletives. Nevermind.

I want my hour back!

This weekend was rough. Who knew the whole daylight savings thing would hit me as hard as it did. We got through Friday and Saturday just fine, but waking up Sunday morning was painful! OK, maybe not painful...more like sheer torture.

I hardly ever sleep in anymore, but Sunday morning was the exception. My body simply did not want to accept the fact that a precious hour of sleep had been taken away. Although it was nearly 11am, my poor body was screaming on the inside, "It's only 10am...let us rest!!" As a result, I was thrown off for the rest of the day. And, I wasn't the only one. Every time Malia looked at the clock she would remark about how we were an hour ahead of the time compared to the day before. That child was quite interested in the concept of daylight savings time and how and why we had to abide by it. Oy.

So, we went about our day. Adam and I did yard work...taking advantage of the unseasonably warm weather and the extra day light. Aidan spent the day with his friend, Shane, and Malia played outside all day...taking advantage of the unseasonably warm weather and the extra day light. Slight chaos ensued when we all came inside to wash up and get dinner started...what do you mean it's already 7pm?! Holy crap. The kids need to shower and be in bed at 8:30pm...it's a school night!!

Needless to say, dinner wasn't fixed in 30 minutes a la Rachael Ray. Barbeque chicken takes some time, especially for "Grill Master Flex Adam." Trying to convince a 5 year old that he needs to shower before dinner takes some time, too. So, maybe our Sunday evening didn't turn out as it usually does given the time change and all, but things did manage to go smoothly. Of course, it was darn near 9:30pm before our kids were finally fed, showered and ready for bed. I was not thrilled about them heading to bed nearly an hour off schedule, but Adam, "Mr. Go with the Flow," kindly pointed out that technically they were right on schedule. True, considering their little bodies were probably thinking it was only 8:20pm when it was really 9:20pm. OK, so maybe this time change isn't so bad after all.

Well, that was last night...

This morning I truly believe that Malia & Aidan and their inner time clocks finally realized that they, too, were robbed of an hour because getting ready for school this morning was a test of the nerves...my nerves. Why would they want to get up at 7am knowing that deep down it was only 6am?! Their little bodies didn't want to get started on the day...kind of like how my body was not functioning on Sunday.

Can we please have our hour back? Pretty please? We enjoy the extra hour of daylight, but we could all really use that hour. Thanks. :)

To WHO This Concerns:

I am writing this letter to let you know that our relationship has come to an end. In fact, our relationship has been over with ever since you made it perfectly clear that my family and I do not matter to you anymore. You've said time and time again that I am no longer a part of your life, so why are you still trying to be a part of mine?

While I am flattered that you follow my every move (thanks to my blog), I truly think that it is in both of our best interests that you put an end to your little infatuation with me and all things concerning me. I am sad to see you go, but at least I know that I have provided you with some sort of amusement. After all, if my blog really wasn't that interesting I don’t think you would have continually come back for more.


On another note, it's been a pleasure knowing that you’ve been such a big fan of my blog and I'm sure you've told all of your friends and co-workers about it. But, I find it quite “stalker-like” of you to follow me to various websites just because you read about them on my blog. I am not sure what you were trying to gain by taking such a keen interest in my daily adventures, but I can assure you that following me has done nothing but prove that you just simply cannot let go.

I realize that I may not have been a complete angel when it came to our relationship -- especially here lately. Just like you, I don't feel you are owed an apology. You're not worth the apology. Please realize that I speak the truth. I am an honest person and, just like they say, the truth hurts. It’s a shame that you cannot stand me playing your own game. How does it feel to be on the receiving end? It’s not so nice, is it? So, perhaps you've learned a lesson and the next time you feel like back-stabbing a friend you might be more inclined to think before you speak. Just once you should take a step back and stop thinking about your own personal issues and realize just how many other people you’ve affected by your lies and stories. It’s amazing that you still have any friends after all was said and done. But, I’m sure you believe (just as I do) that those who honestly know you will stand beside you.

You were once someone I considered a friend. You were once a family member. I looked up to you and respected you. However, in the last year and a half I have seen you for who you really are. You’ve called me despicable. You’ve accused me of being an unfit mother. You made many false accusations about myself and my family and I can tell you right now your allegations have gotten you NOWHERE and will continue to get you NOWHERE. You set out to destroy my name and my reputation. It’s too bad that your tactics aren’t working. People who truly know me for me and understand me fully believe that I am not the monster you've said I am. Remember back in elementary school when kids would tease other kids out on the playground and someone would say, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me?” Those are words to live by.

It breaks my heart to know that even this letter will set you off once again. And, in true scorned woman fashion, my family & I will once again be subjected to another bout of your bitter retaliation. Go ahead and print this blog entry out and keep it with the others. All you have is a stack of papers that you will try and use as a way to prove just how awful I am when in reality it's just a big pile of me exercising the freedom of speech. But, go ahead and keep those papers because it will serve as a nice memoir of what was once our relationship. ..who knows, maybe if you get a nice binder it would make for a nice coffee table book (or something to take to the bathroom to read while going poo).

It’s a shame we had to end our relationship this way. While I may be hurt by your actions, my sadness is only temporary and I take comfort in knowing that karma is a bitch; therefore, I really do wish you nothing but the best in life.

Hugs & Kisses,
Me

Ack!

I don't use spellcheck and I am a really bad speller and sometimes my grammar is, uh, poor. Cut me some slack, though, will ya? I mean, I only took the required number of English classes for my major while I was in college. What was my major? Geography. So there.

It really makes me chuckle when I look back over my posts and see all of my typos and just bad grammatical errors. I mean, I just had to redo a blog post title because I spelled plumber wrong. Oh, gee.

Monday, Monday

What I would like to know is WTF happened this morning?

I woke up late. We ALL woke up late. I'm rockin' the "no, I didn't wash my hair this morning" look. Ugh. I cannot stand NOT washing my hair.

The other half was running late this morning and had to move around cars because he decided to take the OTHER truck to work.

The kids -- ohhhh, don't even get me started on the kids. I swear I have never heard so much whining before. Well, maybe I have...but this morning was ridiculous! M did alright...she got dressed with minimal fussing, but A really tested my nerves. Tears were shed. There was pouting. There was even an incident involving a belt...no, I didn't lash my child, he just wanted me to put the belt on him...AND HE DIDN'T EVEN HAVE PANTS ON!

The kids were dressed and ready to go with only minutes to spare before the bus came. Breakfast was in the form of two granola bars and I nearly had a breakdown when I saw that both children were attempting to walk out of the door in just hoodies. Um, the windchill alone is about 22 degrees, GO BACK AND PUT ON YOUR WARM WINTER COATS!

Thank goodness today is Friday.

Somebody call the plumber!

Let me preface this story by saying that potty training my son was an ordeal. We switched from regular diapers to cloth diapers around the time he was two in hopes that it might ease the transition and make potty training easier (and, aside from the $$$ start up fees, cloth diapering WAS indeed cheaper than buying disposables). He did well and peeing in the potty became a breeze; however, pooping in the potty was a different story. Let's just say that I had heard all the stories about children holding "it" in and how potty training can sort of "mess" with their feelings of control and security -- yeah, we had THOSE issues. Aidan was not about to poop in the potty...it was his poop after all and no one elses. ANYWAY, after battling for many, many months we finally leaped that hurdle...only to realize that he refused to learn and even try to wipe his own hiney. His reason (and I quote), "I don't want to get poop on my fingers." Gee...thanks...and you think I do? So, here we are, FINALLY at the stage where he wipes his own butt (thank goodness for flushable wipes!) although I still have to spray Shout on the skid marks that are in his Transformer "unnawears"...

Bedtime is at 8:30pm sharp in our house during the school week (Sunday through Thursday) and during the week WITHOUT FAIL either one of the kids is gonna have to go poop right before bedtime. It always happens. Tonight, it was Aidan's turn. OK, no big deal. Poop happens. He'll wipe his own butt and wash his hands when he's finished.

Adam and I were on the couch watching last night's "Top Chef" when Aidan came out of the bathroom to apologize to me for using too much toilet paper.

"Mommy...uh...I forgot and I used too much toilet paper."

"How much is too much?"

"Uh...a whole bunch. A big ball of it. I flooded the bathroom...but I wiped my own butt!"

"You did WHAT?"

"I wiped my own butt!"

"No, no...after you wiped your butt...what's wrong in the bathroom?"

I shot Adam a look.

By this time, Malia ran to the bathroom...I mean, come on, she's not going to pass up the chance to witness something that her brother has done whether it's right or wrong...siblings LIVE for this kind of stuff!

Adam finally gets up off the couch and I'm hot on his heels.

Sure enough, water is swirling dangerously close to the rim of the toilet bowl and there is a big ole wad of T.P. stuck in the toilet. A whole lot of T.P. So much T.P. that I was surprised there was even any left on the roll. Immediately, Aidan chimes, "Don't worry, I'll go get the plunger!"

Oh, geez...here we go, I thought.

After being side-tracked in the living room by a television commercial and a trip back to the bathroom to watch the water swirl in the toilet, he comes back to the bathroom with the plunger (pretty sad that our kids know where to find the plunger, huh...in MY bathroom...don't ask). Adam plunges the toilet a couple times to dislodge the big BALL of toilet paper, I wipe off the seat and Aidan proclaims, "See, it's all fixed now!"

*sigh*

KIDS.

I would so totally take skid marked "unnawears" over a clogged toilet any day (this just made me have flashbacks of the day at work when my daughter clogged the office toilet and there were little turds regurgitating out of the toilet.....but that's a different blog).

Sinu-what?

I just got over a sinus infection. In fact, I took my last antibiotic on February 8th. Obviously, the z-pack didn't do jack because here I am a little more than a week later and I feel something coming on. Could it be my sinuses again? Is it possible that the antibiotics didn't do their job. Possibly. Am I going to spend another $20 on a copay just to get a prescription for some $20 antibiotics again? Probably not.

After talking with my parents tonight, they suggested that I:

1. Keep my cats out of the house -- um, this is not an option and, as far as I know, I am not allergic to cats.
2. Use a warm compress on my face for 20 minutes three times a day -- again, probably not going to happen because I'm not THAT disciplined (besides, I'd look like a jackass at the office when I'm sitting at my desk with a washcloth over my face)
3. Start using a neti pot -- a neti what?

The third suggestion intrigues me. My parents told me that they found some product at Costco today for sinus relief. SinusAid, SinusIde...I couldn't quite make it out and my father wasn't too sure about the exact name. My guess is this:

http://www.sinucleanse.com/index.htm

I figure it's worth a shot -- well, at least that is what my brief rundown of the website tells me. Of course, this warrants yet another trip to freakin' Wally World. Ugh. But, if it means my sinuses get bathed and pampered then I guess it would be worth it, right? I'm a bit skeeved out about intentionally pouring water in one nostril only to see it come out of the other one, but I guess I'll get over it, right?

Anyone out there have any experiences with neti pots or sinus cleansing? Anyone have any other ideas besides asking for yet another prescription (because I'm not good at remembering to take medication)?

I just want to be able to breathe again.

It's a home day, but not by choice -

I'm at home today.

I should be working.

I really should be working. However, even though I am afforded the luxury of bringing my children to work with me from time to time, well, let me just say that having kids under foot in the office is not fun whether they are sick or not. Malia stuck it out yesterday -- thank goodness for the sleeping bag, pillow & DVD player that I keep stashed in my office. However, I was fortunate enough to not have to deal with any vomitting spells at the office...she waited until we got home. *sigh*

So, here I am at 8:50am sitting at the computer wondering what the heck I'm going to do today because very rarely am I home during the week. I really don't like missing work (contrary to what some might believe). I suppose today is as good a day as any to just clean. Really clean. Put things away, dust things, fold things, vacuum things, mop things kind of clean.

Yuck.

Just the thought of all that cleaning is making ME feel sick. ;)

The vomit monster has reared it's ugly head -

First of all, let me start off by saying that hearing your child puke up corned beef & cabbage at 10:30pm on a Sunday night is NOT a fun way to end the weekend...especially when that particular child actually enjoyed eating corned beef & cabbage and will probably never, ever touch the stuff again.

Second of all, I would like to say that the sight & scent was awful. Pure awful.

Third of all, the wretched stomach bug appears to have paid our family a visit and it is my hope that any more bodily expulsions are few and far between and are not inflicted upon anyone else in this household. I can handle one puking child, but having two at the same time isn't fun...been there, done that.

Where's my can of Lysol?