they do the cutest things…

23 03 2010

Stereotypically, kids and animals do cute things.

Stereotypes are almost always based on a kernel of truth.

Lately, I’ve been forgetting that because MY kids and animals have developed minds of their own.  That creates several possibilities:

1.  Spontaneous cuteness that they are not aware of.  IMO, this is the BEST kind of cute.

2.  Contrived cuteness that they ARE aware of and created in order to get attention.  (Ernie is the master of this.  He gets cuter and cuter until you give in and pet him.)

3.  Intentionally not cute at all (getting in your sister’s face yelling BOOGER, BOOGER, BOOGER!)

4.  Spontaneous not cute at all.

5.  Funny because it’s just wrong.  (Nola cuddling up to me, then barfing in my face.)

Eh, there are more but my brain is bogged down by this cold front.  Don’t you hate when that happens?

There is a story to go along with this! I’m not just typing out cute factors for my health.

This morning in the car, it was fricking cold.  How does the weather go from 60s, 70s, and even 80s one week then the next it’s freezing temps and snowing again!  We live just north of Atlanta!  We live here because it’s WARMER.

So, me and the kids in the car to go to school.  We take LJ to school and the gas light comes on in my car.  Chickpea’s school opens it’s doors at the same time as LJs but they don’t start until later so I decided to go get gas before dropping Chickpea off.

E, of course, is non-stop running his mouth.  He chatters from the moment he wakes up until the moment he falls asleep.  It’s going something like this: “why the dinging, mommy? The air is blowing but it’s not cold and it’s not hot and I’m not cold and I’m not hot and how are you not hot and not cold?  Did you know that stop signs really say pots?  Why are we turning this way, Mommy?  A’s school is that way and she has to go to school, right? Are we taking A to the doctor so she can get a shot? Do you like shots, Mommy?”

And so it goes…

OK, we get to Ingles and the card reader won’t read my card, so I get to pay full price for the gas (because that was better IMO than standing in the cold trying to make the thing work.)  Pump gas, pump gas, pump gas… make it stop pumping at $60 worth and accidentally get $60.07 worth.  Oh well.  I’m sure that 7 cents got me a drop or two extra.

Then, we leave the gas station and this Toyota van pulls out behind us.  E turns around in his seat and starts frantically waving at the driver.  The driver appears to be a greasy haired dad on his way to somewhere and waves back making it look as uncomfortable as possible.

We have a “no hands in the air” rule in the car because I can see them in the rearview mirror and it makes me nuts.  I say “Ethan, turn around and put your hands down.  What are you thinking? That person is a stranger!”

Next we arrive at Chickpea’s school and since the line is longer, she has time to kiss me bye and kiss E bye.  As she’s kissing Ethan, he smooches her on the nose and blows a raspberry!  “HEY, IF WE’RE SPITTING, WE’RE NOT GOING TO KISS BYE BYE!”  Chickpea turns around with a red spot on her nose where she’s just been raspberried and E starts to cry and rub his eyes.

*facepalm*

We drop Chickpea off and as we’re pulling out I say “E-baby, I think you need to go back to bed when we get home.  When you wake up maybe you’ll feel better.”

I got no arguments.  Amazing.

We got home and I turned off the TV and he put his coat and shoes away.  I went potty after putting my coat and shoes away.  When I walked in to his bedroom, he’s curled up on the floor with his rhino stuffed animal, finger in his mouth, and already starting to fall asleep.  I tucked him in to bed with his comfy blanky.

Normally at this point, he hides under the covers and plays.  I didn’t really care this morning as long as he was quiet and restful, so just a few minutes ago I went in to check on him.  He is passed out asleep with his covers tucked up to his chin and his little baby face perfectly relaxed.

*sigh* So.  Freaking. Cute!





ignore it, commence

29 12 2009

The birds are still doing their mating dance.

The kids are playing some weird pretend game with legos that is really loud.  At least they aren’t bossing each other around since the last time I sent a dirty look in their direction.

The dogs are in their “I’m not a trip hazard, I’m just sleeping” positions.*

I just got up to throw something away and apparently Cali is my herding dog on duty.  Normally I get Abbie who is much more noticeable and Cali herds the kids.

I’m still coughing up snot balls but I think my love affair with Mucinex will be nothing more than a one night stand.

So, what am I going to do about it all?  Nothing.

Nope, nothing at all.  I’m not going to interfere with the kids or try and drown out the bird screeching.  I’m not going to trip over the dogs.  I’m just going to ignore it all** and drink warm stuff and clean my room.  I want to get my closet cleaned out very very badly.  We have a new Goodwill about 5 minutes away and I so totally need an excuse to go!  Goodwill, today, I will have a bag of clothing to donate. 😀

I also need to figure out why my gamer suddenly doesn’t like the monitor that’s been on it for over a year. *rolls eyes* After that, I need to clean up the desk area, take some photos and introduce you to Patron.  Patron is my new Dirt Devil super sucker on a stick.  He’s totally awesome – he has no brushes or belts or anything.  He’s just a hand vac on a stick.  The first time I turned him on, he stuck to the floor like a suction cup and I had to pry him off.  I was going to name him Jose (after the jalepeno on a stick) but Shaun reminded me that I have a very bad time with Jose (Cuervo).  Jose is an asshole who gives me anger management problems and migraines.  So, Patron is the kinder, gentler intoxicating substance on a stick.  Or something.

Anyways, pictures soon.  I’m only 1/5th of the way through the Christmas pictures so it may be next year when you finally get to see Patron.

Other crap to do… combine lists into a master plan, figure out what gift cards go where and with who, and figure out what’s going on with LibraryThing and BookMooch***.  Fun stuff!

* Having shepherd dogs is great and they come with a factory setting that no firmware upgrade will override.  They herd things into groups and if you move, they put you back where you’re supposed to be.  If you stay put, they go to sleep.  There are times it’s really nice to be cattle – like if I’m having problems with my heart or if Shaun’s away on business.  Other times it’s like having a 60 lb hemorrhoid.

** Unless something the shepherds can’t handle happens – like the little shits figure out how to create an IED out of play-do or something.

*** BookMooch has been soooooooooo slow that I’m hardly ever on it.  It’s not that people don’t want my books, it’s that there’s nothing on there I don’t already have or that I don’t want.  So I have like 30 points with nothing to spend them on.  Anyone need a donation?  If so, comment me with your BM name and I’ll dispatch a few!





appearance of intelligence

23 10 2009

Me:  Sometimes I wonder about our kids’ intelligence.  It’s like they’re super smart most of the time but sometimes they just do the most retarded things!

Shaun: I know what you mean.  I bet our parents said the same thing about us when we were little.

Me:  They probably still do.





We made puppets at Grandmommy’s

20 07 2009

If my mom had been born with patience, she would be the perfect pre-school teacher.  Lately, every family day she’s been coming up with activities to do with the kids and this one was a hit! It’s a good thing she works in the infants department at work and not stationery because she would be out of money in no time flat!

Miss Alyssa with her bird and lion:

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LJ’s monkey and the elephant in progress:

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Ethan with his tiger and pig.  I think he’s the only kid who didn’t want help with his…

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I gave my sister’s fiance the camera and he takes great pictures.  He made sure to include the grown-ups!

Me and Grandmommy.  You can see some of my art from high school behind us.

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Dad and Shaun in the computer room.  However, calling that space a computer room is a vast understatement.

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Me and my sister, with my brother in the back corner paying no attention.

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My sister and her man.  Do you know how hard it is to get that woman to smile?

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I don’t have a picture of my brother’s girlfriend and the rest of the crew took off before the craft time started.  We’re gorgeous, aren’t we?





Lots of work to do, no money to be found

19 07 2009

I know that on Sundays you aren’t supposed to worry about work.  Let it all wait until Monday and just take some time to relax.  Right…

I’d been joking for a few months about going to work at Hooters to get a little extra cash flow.  When the adoption went through, we lost about $1k a month in income because we didn’t want to wait for the special needs waiver to go through on A.  It would have put the adoption off for another 8 months or so and from experience we’ve learned that a lot can go wrong in 8 months.  LJ’s had gotten approved two days before we signed intent to adopt but being A is younger, we didn’t have enough documentation to get the rubber stamp.  It was better to just get the adoption finalized even without getting the special needs care she qualifies for.  We did, however, get federal Medicaid on all the kids until they’re 19 or out of high school.  It covers mental health treatments and that’s what we needed to ensure.

Note to potential adoptive parents:  make sure you get the adoption assistance.  It’s wounding to the pride, but you’re gonna need it and use it.

Back to Hooters.  I found out today that I can’t work there because I don’t meet protocol – tattoos are out of dress code.  Damn, that means I may have to find work where I use my IQ instead of my T&A.

Unless I find somewhere I can flex-work or work part time, work just isn’t a viable option yet.  I say yet, but the truth of it is that I’ll probably never be “cured.”  Shaun has intermittent FMLA leave enacted in his job because the next migraine could literally kill me.  Reading that on paper scared the crap out of me, even though I knew it.  The MVP puts me at a higher risk of stroke, syncope, and fatal arrythmias.  Being the migraines are severe enough to take out my vision and I often can’t keep anything down, dehydration is a major risk.  Not enough blood running through the heart equals regurgitation and syncope.

I want to just scream that it’s not fair.  I’m 28!  I’m one of the smartest, most talented people in the workforce (mathmatically speaking,) I have the will and want to work – but I can’t.  I can’t even lift my head some days.  When I feel like that though, I verbally tell myself to shut up.  One of the kids I went to school with just died from cancer this past week.  He wasn’t one of my friends, but we ran with the same crowd.  Well, as much as a socially-impared art geek can run with a crowd. I’m blessed beyond belief.

I think I’m just feeling older than my age.  Wednesday, I have an appt with the OBGYN to start talking about a hysterectomy.  Friday is Shaun’s and my 10 year anniversary.  September is the 10 year high-school reunion.  I have three kids, ages 9, 5, and 4.  Two of them have PTSD and the laundry list of abuse related and drug-exposure related mental illnesses.  The last one is trying his hand at tantrums, but doesn’t have the stamina to keep up the 4 hour fits his sister is capable of.

The kids keep bringing up in therapy that they’re scared because I’m sick and they don’t want to lose another mom.  I can tell them again and again that it’s just a headache, but they know.  Kids are really good at not accepting bullshit and I’m really terrible at lying.  I don’t believe I’m going to die but I do believe that I’ll probably battle this well into my 90s. I grew up taking care of my mom through the same thing and I’m a productive member of society.

Some days are great and I feel like I did before I got sick… or until the sickness that I was born with caught up with me enough to take me down.  I have energy.  I laugh and smile.  My grammar doesn’t suck.  I have patience and want to conquer the world. I think about another child.

Yesterday was one of those days.  We went out with the kids to thrift stores and antique stores.  We picked up some pipes for Shaun to restore.  I got some $3 keyboards at Goodwill to modify and some clock parts.  We spent the kids’ Toys’r’Us gift card and their McDonalds gift card.  It was beautiful and sunny and great.

This morning was the same way, but a bad night’s sleep and too much caffeine caught up with me around 4 pm.  I got out and cleaned the wheels and chrome on my Durango now that the local road work is done.  I started teaching A how to work the shower since she’s going to start school in 3 weeks.  I took apart one of the keyboards and started cleaning it and sanitizing it.  We had pizza with the big family at Mom’s and the cousins all got to play and we made hand puppets out of paper bags.  I finally gave the digital picture frames back to my dad (one we couldn’t set up without an SD card port… blah) and set up the one for my mom.  I sorted through jewelry with my sister and stole some of her stuff.  The stupid gate at the family’s place was deactivated so we didn’t have to wait to be buzzed in.

Around the time Mom went to church with Grandma, I was a snippy bitch.  I even snapped at my mom.  I snapped at the kids for singing Spongebob’s “idiot friends” song.  I came home and took a bath, finished a stupid book, and tried to steady myself with working on fixing a flatbed scanner.  What I should have done is taken a shot of Zomig.

Now I’m going to attempt to sleep it off after I get Cali cleaned up.  Nola got pissy and and started a fight.  It looks like Cali lost a toenail.  Shaun’s putting the kids in bed and I’ve got the cameras charging so I can download the photos in the morning.

I don’t know who is harder to raise: children or German Shepherds.  They’re all too damn smart for their own good.





4 year old wisdom

1 06 2009

Babies need pissy fires to calm them down.

Pacifier?

NO, PIIIIIISSY fire!





My 3 year old is a troll

9 10 2008

Today while dropping off my eldest at school, my 3 yo son had been practicing making his siblings yell “EWWWW!”  He settled down while we approached the school, and was very quiet when the teacher opened the door.  (This is highly unusual behavior.)  As soon as the eldest got out of the car, this rugrat yells at the teacher and it took me a minute to decipher it.  Me and teach just stared at each other in shock.  

He had yelled at the top of his lungs:

“GET OUT OF MY BUTT!”

My son is an IRL troll.  He’s learning how to make a momma proud.