Showing posts with label Kill me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kill me. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Why doesn't anybody want chocolate for breakfast?????
Oh, god, you guys.... I am so tired.
So, so tired.....
Child 1 has bad sleeping habits. It's my fault. I know. He starts in his own bed but comes into mine every night, which is usually the point when I stop sleeping. You can read about it here. I've been unsuccessfully and not even really very enthusiastically trying to change this for a while now, because at this point I figure I'm just fucked and I have to wait for him to decide it's time to stay in his bed all night.
That doesn't stop me from trying, though, and I've been attempting to come up with things that would be awesome incentives for him to want to stay in his bed all night.
And what's a better incentive than chocolate, right?? What kid doesn't love chocolate? I know this kid sure does. So, last week I told him he could have chocolate for breakfast if he stayed in his bed all night long.
His response? "Naahhhh, I don't want chocolate for breakfast."
LIES!!!!!!!! He wants chocolate for breakfast, he just wants to come into my bed more.
Goddammit.
But the latest trend in night time antics? Child 2 has now started coming into the bed with me. He usually comes first, and then Child 1 appears a few hours later.
I get no sleep when this happens. See? LOOK AT MY EYES!!!
It's been happening every night for the last 4 nights now, so last night I told Child 2 that he could have chocolate for breakfast if he stayed in his bed all night. He was very excited about that, and readily agreed to the plan. I was very optimistic.
But then at around 1:00 this morning, in he climbs, and before I even have a chance to say a word, he says "Mama, I decided I don't want chocolate for breakfast, after all" and then immediately passes out.
Goddammit!!!
I guess I'll be having the chocolate for breakfast. To ease the pain.
UPDATE: I sat Child 2 down earlier so we could discuss BedGate, and he started crying because he's been having bad dreams about being attacked by a giant ladybug and the only thing that helps him is to come sleep with me. sigh. So... I guess we'll be doing that for a while....
So, so tired.....
Child 1 has bad sleeping habits. It's my fault. I know. He starts in his own bed but comes into mine every night, which is usually the point when I stop sleeping. You can read about it here. I've been unsuccessfully and not even really very enthusiastically trying to change this for a while now, because at this point I figure I'm just fucked and I have to wait for him to decide it's time to stay in his bed all night.
That doesn't stop me from trying, though, and I've been attempting to come up with things that would be awesome incentives for him to want to stay in his bed all night.
And what's a better incentive than chocolate, right?? What kid doesn't love chocolate? I know this kid sure does. So, last week I told him he could have chocolate for breakfast if he stayed in his bed all night long.
His response? "Naahhhh, I don't want chocolate for breakfast."
LIES!!!!!!!! He wants chocolate for breakfast, he just wants to come into my bed more.
Goddammit.
But the latest trend in night time antics? Child 2 has now started coming into the bed with me. He usually comes first, and then Child 1 appears a few hours later.
I get no sleep when this happens. See? LOOK AT MY EYES!!!
It's been happening every night for the last 4 nights now, so last night I told Child 2 that he could have chocolate for breakfast if he stayed in his bed all night. He was very excited about that, and readily agreed to the plan. I was very optimistic.
But then at around 1:00 this morning, in he climbs, and before I even have a chance to say a word, he says "Mama, I decided I don't want chocolate for breakfast, after all" and then immediately passes out.
Goddammit!!!
I guess I'll be having the chocolate for breakfast. To ease the pain.
UPDATE: I sat Child 2 down earlier so we could discuss BedGate, and he started crying because he's been having bad dreams about being attacked by a giant ladybug and the only thing that helps him is to come sleep with me. sigh. So... I guess we'll be doing that for a while....
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Some kind of Wednesday
You know, it's like Some Kind of Wonderful, except without the awesome John Hughes music. And with more despair. But fewer acid washed jeans.
I was originally going to make this a Wordless Wednesday, except I realized there were too many words I actually wanted to include, which would make the title completely useless, so I guess, instead, I'll call it Wordy Wednesday. Or Chatty Wednesday. Or I'm Over Explaining Things Again Wednesday. Or Shut The Fuck Up Already Wednesday.
Any of those will do.
This post is dedicated to Scott, who blogs at Dads Who Change Diapers, because on Tuesday morning when I was tweeting about how nauseous I felt because I was so goddamn tired, he was the first person to mention schadenfreude. He was also the only person to mention schadenfreude. And then he didn't judge me for probably spelling nauseous wrong, which I really appreciate. (Have you voted for him yet, in the whatever thing it is that he wants votes for? You totally should; it's really important.) Also because I told him I would dedicate this post to him, and then something again about schadenfreude. I don't know, I was really tired that morning.....
This is how my Monday night went, while hubs slept blissfully alone on the couch downstairs because he had to be up at 6:00am and he didn't want to bother me (you'll see the irony of that as you get to the end).
I took the blanket off of us by the 5th picture here so that you could see the body positioning we had going on, so just pretend the blanket is still there. Use your imagination, dammit.
I was originally going to make this a Wordless Wednesday, except I realized there were too many words I actually wanted to include, which would make the title completely useless, so I guess, instead, I'll call it Wordy Wednesday. Or Chatty Wednesday. Or I'm Over Explaining Things Again Wednesday. Or Shut The Fuck Up Already Wednesday.
Any of those will do.
This post is dedicated to Scott, who blogs at Dads Who Change Diapers, because on Tuesday morning when I was tweeting about how nauseous I felt because I was so goddamn tired, he was the first person to mention schadenfreude. He was also the only person to mention schadenfreude. And then he didn't judge me for probably spelling nauseous wrong, which I really appreciate. (Have you voted for him yet, in the whatever thing it is that he wants votes for? You totally should; it's really important.) Also because I told him I would dedicate this post to him, and then something again about schadenfreude. I don't know, I was really tired that morning.....
This is how my Monday night went, while hubs slept blissfully alone on the couch downstairs because he had to be up at 6:00am and he didn't want to bother me (you'll see the irony of that as you get to the end).
I took the blanket off of us by the 5th picture here so that you could see the body positioning we had going on, so just pretend the blanket is still there. Use your imagination, dammit.
Monday, February 27, 2012
How often does this kind of conversation happen in your house?
Child 2: hits cat with sock
Me: Please stop hitting the cat with your sock
Child 2: hits cat with sock
Me: WHAT did I just say??
Child 2: Don't hit the cat with my sock.
Me: And what did YOU do?
Child 2: I hit the cat with my sock.
Me: And is that okay?
Child 2: No
Me: Please stop hitting the cat with your sock
Child 2: hits cat with sock
Me: WHAT did I just say??
Child 2: Don't hit the cat with my sock.
Me: And what did YOU do?
Child 2: I hit the cat with my sock.
Me: And is that okay?
Child 2: No
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
So, apparently I'm allergic to dogs.
So, I'm a Bookkeeper and I have 15 clients right now; and almost every single one of my clients has a dog. Whether I go to their home office to work, or their regular office, there's a dog pretty much everywhere I go. I'm cool with that, because I like dogs. They're not like cats; cats are assholes. Dogs are cool. They sit underneath the desk and lick my toes. I don't know why. Okay, dogs are also weird in addition to being cool.
Anyway, as far as I know I'm not allergic to dogs; I've never had a problem before. Until last week some time when I went to a new client, and she had this enormous, fuzzy, happy, licky, jumpy guy who immediately adored me, and I him. He kept jumping into my lap while we sat there talking and I couldn't help but hug him and love him and talk to him, instead of her. Okay, it might have been awkward. I don't know what breed he was, I asked, and she told me, and it wasn't anything I'd ever heard of before, but just so you know, he looked exactly like this:
After I left the two of them, I had about 45 minutes to go to Costco and then get to my next client. I was standing there looking at cheese when my eye started itching. I guess I rubbed it, I don't really remember, but before things got really bad I became acutely aware of the fact that I hadn't washed my hands since I had rubbed them all over Mr. Fuzzypants.
Things were getting itchier and itchier, and then they got leakier and leakier. I abandoned my cart full of 100 tons of meatballs, 19 pounds of nutmeg and a 2 gallon bottle of vodka and ran off to the bathroom to wash my hands before things got any worse.
I looked at myself in the mirror, though, and realized that it probably wasn't going to get much worse than this. One of my eyes was almost swollen shut and it looked like I was crying; but only out of the one eye. It was not pretty.
Oh good god, I have to go to my next client like this? I scoured the aisles looking for allergy eye drops, but there were none. I didn't want to take Benadryl because it would put me to sleep (moreso) and there would be no way I could function. I was pretty sure I had some allergy eye drops at home, so I very quickly finished up (which is practically impossible in Costco) and ran my ass home to find something before I ran out of time.
Unfortunately the only thing I could find was regular Visine, which did nothing for the swelling and the leaking but did take away all the redness! And off I went to my next client.....
Anyway, as far as I know I'm not allergic to dogs; I've never had a problem before. Until last week some time when I went to a new client, and she had this enormous, fuzzy, happy, licky, jumpy guy who immediately adored me, and I him. He kept jumping into my lap while we sat there talking and I couldn't help but hug him and love him and talk to him, instead of her. Okay, it might have been awkward. I don't know what breed he was, I asked, and she told me, and it wasn't anything I'd ever heard of before, but just so you know, he looked exactly like this:
After I left the two of them, I had about 45 minutes to go to Costco and then get to my next client. I was standing there looking at cheese when my eye started itching. I guess I rubbed it, I don't really remember, but before things got really bad I became acutely aware of the fact that I hadn't washed my hands since I had rubbed them all over Mr. Fuzzypants.
Things were getting itchier and itchier, and then they got leakier and leakier. I abandoned my cart full of 100 tons of meatballs, 19 pounds of nutmeg and a 2 gallon bottle of vodka and ran off to the bathroom to wash my hands before things got any worse.
I looked at myself in the mirror, though, and realized that it probably wasn't going to get much worse than this. One of my eyes was almost swollen shut and it looked like I was crying; but only out of the one eye. It was not pretty.
Oh good god, I have to go to my next client like this? I scoured the aisles looking for allergy eye drops, but there were none. I didn't want to take Benadryl because it would put me to sleep (moreso) and there would be no way I could function. I was pretty sure I had some allergy eye drops at home, so I very quickly finished up (which is practically impossible in Costco) and ran my ass home to find something before I ran out of time.
Unfortunately the only thing I could find was regular Visine, which did nothing for the swelling and the leaking but did take away all the redness! And off I went to my next client.....
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Some days it's not even worth trying to chew through the restraints
I wish I could cite my source for the quote in the post title, but I have no idea who originally said that. It's one of those lines that's older than the internet; maybe sounds like something Emo Phillips would have said.
Anyway.... I am overextended. I've got 15 clients right now and the only time I have to see them is Monday through Friday between the hours of 9:30am and 2:30pm. So you can imagine how hard it has become trying to cram everybody in every month; god forbid somebody should want me more than once a month, which has happened the past 2 months because it's the end of the year and everybody is getting ready to do their taxes.
Then I pick up the kids and get them home and I have these pockets of time where I'm not making dinner or yelling at them to brush their teeth or helping with (doing) homework where I'm supposed to get things done like clean the house or do the laundry or do whatever client work I've taken home because I ran out of time during the day and had to run off to the next place I had to be.
What happens when I get to this place is that I get so overwhelmed by all my responsibilities that my brain just shuts down and I become almost incapable of doing anything at all. So, instead, I spend my brief pockets of time tweeting or wasting the hours on reddit, and then suddenly my pockets are gone and my house is still a fucking mess and still nobody has any clean underwear to wear the next day.
Therefore, I've decided to modify my daily to-do list so that at the end of every day I can say that I've been productive. Look! I crossed off everything on my list! I'm a super woman!!! I CAN DO IT ALL, MOTHERFUCKERS!!! And thank you to my straight haired sister, Dawn, for the inspiration. SHE knows why....
Anyway.... I am overextended. I've got 15 clients right now and the only time I have to see them is Monday through Friday between the hours of 9:30am and 2:30pm. So you can imagine how hard it has become trying to cram everybody in every month; god forbid somebody should want me more than once a month, which has happened the past 2 months because it's the end of the year and everybody is getting ready to do their taxes.
Then I pick up the kids and get them home and I have these pockets of time where I'm not making dinner or yelling at them to brush their teeth or helping with (doing) homework where I'm supposed to get things done like clean the house or do the laundry or do whatever client work I've taken home because I ran out of time during the day and had to run off to the next place I had to be.
What happens when I get to this place is that I get so overwhelmed by all my responsibilities that my brain just shuts down and I become almost incapable of doing anything at all. So, instead, I spend my brief pockets of time tweeting or wasting the hours on reddit, and then suddenly my pockets are gone and my house is still a fucking mess and still nobody has any clean underwear to wear the next day.
Therefore, I've decided to modify my daily to-do list so that at the end of every day I can say that I've been productive. Look! I crossed off everything on my list! I'm a super woman!!! I CAN DO IT ALL, MOTHERFUCKERS!!! And thank you to my straight haired sister, Dawn, for the inspiration. SHE knows why....
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
3 circle story maps will be the death of me. And snark.
Note: In an ongoing quest to get klout in snark, I will now be putting the word "snark" in every post title until my dream becomes a reality. And maybe even longer than that. Your twitter RTs are appreciated, but only for that reason.....
The 3 Circle Story Map is a tool of pure evil used to help 1st graders "deconstruct" the plots of the stories they read.
It involves reading a story and then breaking it down into 3 parts, which you write in the three circles. On the map.
The 3 Circle Story Map tears families apart. It makes women and children cry. It makes beloved pets run away from home out of pure fear. The devil uses 3 Circle Story Maps to teach the condemned how to deconstruct the plot of Hell Staff Meetings.
Here, I've made one for you, in order to deconstruct the plot of this post:
Here's another one which deconstructs the events of yesterday afternoon:
Incidentally, here's how I've deconstructed the plot of yesterday's Man vs. Wild. (I'm almost positive I'm doing this right):
The 3 Circle Story Map is a tool of pure evil used to help 1st graders "deconstruct" the plots of the stories they read.
It involves reading a story and then breaking it down into 3 parts, which you write in the three circles. On the map.
The 3 Circle Story Map tears families apart. It makes women and children cry. It makes beloved pets run away from home out of pure fear. The devil uses 3 Circle Story Maps to teach the condemned how to deconstruct the plot of Hell Staff Meetings.
Here, I've made one for you, in order to deconstruct the plot of this post:
Here's another one which deconstructs the events of yesterday afternoon:
Incidentally, here's how I've deconstructed the plot of yesterday's Man vs. Wild. (I'm almost positive I'm doing this right):
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
These are some things they don't tell you
Child 2 is going to be 7 in July; this means I haven't been pregnant for 6 1/2 years (see what I just did there? I know, you're blown away by my math skills, but it's okay. I am, literally, a professional, so don't try this at home, kids!) For those of you who have never been pregnant, although I'd be willing to bet that's only about 1% of you who are reading this, the body undergoes a number of "changes" during pregnancy, in addition to the obvious baby growing thing, and sometimes those changes can be rather creative, in that they have absolutely fucking nothing to do with growing a baby. Sure, you're expecting that your ass and your boobs will grow to alarming proportions, but Restless Leg Syndrome? WTF does that have to do with pregnancy?
The worst part, though is what they really don't tell you in those books about what you're supposed to be expecting during this glorious time is that a lot of this shit never goes away. Yes, that's right, that pregnancy induced Bells Palsy you acquired 10 years ago? That shit'll last a lifetime, it will.
6 1/2 years I haven't been pregnant now. 6 1/2 years and I'm still dealing with my stupid body's pregnancy "changes." Please. Let me tell you about them.....
1. When I was preggo with Child 2 I developed "pregnancy induced carpal tunnel syndrome." Basically, for 6 months, the thumb on my left hand was completely numb. The whole time. On a good day. The rest of the time my thumb and index finger were tingling and painful. I would wake up in the night with my entire hand asleep, so I started wearing this fancy wrist brace at night. That was annoying, and I was having enough trouble sleeping what with the enormous fucking baby I was growing, so I eventually just said fuck it to the fancy wrist brace and suffered through it. I finally got the feeling back in my thumb about 3 months post partum, however about once a year since then, it will randomly come back for no reason that I can figure, last a month or so and then randomly go away for also no reason I can figure. I will also wake up in the middle of the night with my hand completely asleep. It's happening right now. I'm wearing the fancy wrist brace again. :(
2. It's to be expected that when you have an enormous growth pressing on your bladder and cervix from the inside, and then when you shove said growth out of your glory hole, you're going to pee a little bit at unwanted time. Unwanted meaning laughing, coughing, sneezing.... breathing. Times like that. What is NOT to be expected is that this shit is still happening 6 1/2 years later!!! I've trained myself very well to CROSS MY LEGS when I feel a sneeze or a cough coming on, but I'm not always able to. Like that time I sneezed while I was getting out of my car and I had to get back in my car, drive home and change my pants. :(
3. I'll put this one simply: Before children my feet were a size 9. After children my feet are a size 10.
4. When I was preggo with Child 1, I don't know exactly how it happened but at some point I turned wrong or something and this spot on my back totally seized up. It was horrible. I was so fucking front heavy, so it makes sense, but it made walking and sometimes talking pretty much impossible. I'd be standing there having a conversation and suddenly I wouldHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN get this horrible back spasmmmMMMMMMMMMMMHHHHHHHHMMMMMMMMMMMM and make these crazy sounds because it just hurt so fucking much. Luckily (?) I ended up on bedrest the last 5 weeks, and nothing will fix an aching back more than 5 weeks of lying on your left side, amiright??? Pregnancy #2 came and went with no back issues, and then about 3 years ago.... SEVEN years after it first happened... I was vacuuming... fucking vacuuming... and the exact same spot seized up producing the exact same resultsHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN. I went to my doc and got some yummy pills because I didn't have the luxury of staying confined to my bed, and it eventually went away after about 2 weeks. The other night, though? I was filling up the bath for Child 2 and suddenly..... HHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN, thus inspiring this post. Good thing I still had some of those pills left over....
So, it's basically like this...
(I feel it's important to add at this point that I am currently full of muscle relaxers, not to mention covered in Ben Gay, so if it seems like this post came to a sudden end, um....... *drool* At least I thought ahead and drew those pictures for you earlier!! zzzzzzzzz)
The worst part, though is what they really don't tell you in those books about what you're supposed to be expecting during this glorious time is that a lot of this shit never goes away. Yes, that's right, that pregnancy induced Bells Palsy you acquired 10 years ago? That shit'll last a lifetime, it will.
6 1/2 years I haven't been pregnant now. 6 1/2 years and I'm still dealing with my stupid body's pregnancy "changes." Please. Let me tell you about them.....
1. When I was preggo with Child 2 I developed "pregnancy induced carpal tunnel syndrome." Basically, for 6 months, the thumb on my left hand was completely numb. The whole time. On a good day. The rest of the time my thumb and index finger were tingling and painful. I would wake up in the night with my entire hand asleep, so I started wearing this fancy wrist brace at night. That was annoying, and I was having enough trouble sleeping what with the enormous fucking baby I was growing, so I eventually just said fuck it to the fancy wrist brace and suffered through it. I finally got the feeling back in my thumb about 3 months post partum, however about once a year since then, it will randomly come back for no reason that I can figure, last a month or so and then randomly go away for also no reason I can figure. I will also wake up in the middle of the night with my hand completely asleep. It's happening right now. I'm wearing the fancy wrist brace again. :(
2. It's to be expected that when you have an enormous growth pressing on your bladder and cervix from the inside, and then when you shove said growth out of your glory hole, you're going to pee a little bit at unwanted time. Unwanted meaning laughing, coughing, sneezing.... breathing. Times like that. What is NOT to be expected is that this shit is still happening 6 1/2 years later!!! I've trained myself very well to CROSS MY LEGS when I feel a sneeze or a cough coming on, but I'm not always able to. Like that time I sneezed while I was getting out of my car and I had to get back in my car, drive home and change my pants. :(
3. I'll put this one simply: Before children my feet were a size 9. After children my feet are a size 10.
4. When I was preggo with Child 1, I don't know exactly how it happened but at some point I turned wrong or something and this spot on my back totally seized up. It was horrible. I was so fucking front heavy, so it makes sense, but it made walking and sometimes talking pretty much impossible. I'd be standing there having a conversation and suddenly I wouldHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN get this horrible back spasmmmMMMMMMMMMMMHHHHHHHHMMMMMMMMMMMM and make these crazy sounds because it just hurt so fucking much. Luckily (?) I ended up on bedrest the last 5 weeks, and nothing will fix an aching back more than 5 weeks of lying on your left side, amiright??? Pregnancy #2 came and went with no back issues, and then about 3 years ago.... SEVEN years after it first happened... I was vacuuming... fucking vacuuming... and the exact same spot seized up producing the exact same resultsHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN. I went to my doc and got some yummy pills because I didn't have the luxury of staying confined to my bed, and it eventually went away after about 2 weeks. The other night, though? I was filling up the bath for Child 2 and suddenly..... HHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN, thus inspiring this post. Good thing I still had some of those pills left over....
So, it's basically like this...
(I feel it's important to add at this point that I am currently full of muscle relaxers, not to mention covered in Ben Gay, so if it seems like this post came to a sudden end, um....... *drool* At least I thought ahead and drew those pictures for you earlier!! zzzzzzzzz)
Friday, September 30, 2011
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Ikea. This is where I die.
It was Sunday morning and I was going to Ikea, because I had promised Child 1 I would get him a desk before the weekend was over.
I get dressed and get ready, except I decided to skip the shower. I figured it would be quick, in 'n out and all done, don't need to shower for that, right? Except, it had been 3 days since I had last showered and... I was pretty ripe. In hindsight? This was a bad choice.
Because, you see, it was not a quick in 'n out and all done.
School just started at Cal (UC Berkeley) last week, it was labor day weekend, and apparently every student and their mother (literally) had decided that Sunday morning was the best time to go and buy those lamps and computer desks for their new dorms and apartments.
Oh good god it was crowded. And hot. And I was fucking ripe. Did I mention I hadn't showered in 3 days? I had visible stink lines coming from the top of my head. And after a few days of not showering, my hair goes out in all different directions; far, far away from my head. I was not a pretty sight.
And what's that rule? There's a rule, I think, that says that when you go out in public without showering, and it's crowded and noisy and hot and you're sweaty and sticky and fucking miserable you will run into one person you know for each day that you haven't showered? I think that's the rule, right? I hadn't showered in 3 days so, naturally, I ran into 3 people that I knew.
It was awful. The more I walked through the crowds and listened to the in depth discussions about the width of the space between the bed and the window and whether or not this particular Lapkrik would fit in that space and hey, what do you think of the pink one? Should I get the pink one? the more I wanted to just flee that horrible, horrible place. But I had promised Child 1 a desk and I wasn't going to come home without one. Fuck the meatballs and daim bars and lightbulbs, just get me a goddamn desk and get me the hell out of here.... I wove through the strollers and the peppy sorority girls and their mothers and so many toddlers for some reason, I found my desk and I got the fuck out as fast as I could.
The next day, hubs actually took both kids and went back. He came home with not only daim bars, meatballs and lightbulbs, but also pillows and towels. You know what the difference was? He took a shower before he left.
Make a note.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
I may not survive summer break
Today was Day 2 of summer break. Child 2 has various camps that he is attending with various friends and I decided to give Child 1 a lot of time off. I'm hardly working right now and I thought I'd let him have a few weeks of nothing to do, since he loves nothing to do.
He's thrilled. Today we went to breakfast and then spent hours watching BART. Then he went to the park with my mother in law; this is like a dream come true for him. No school! No math! No need to even wear underpants!
EXCEPT. He's in this very inquisitive stage right now (which is good; I constantly remind myself. Remember when he never asked a single question ever? This is better. Remember that. This is better. This is better. This is better. This is better. This is better.)
Here is a sample of our various conversations today:
Me: Getting up to leave the room I'm going downstairs
Child 1: MAMA! Where are you going?????
Me: I'm going downstairs.
Child 1: Where are you going?
Me: Downstairs
Child 1: Where are you going?
Me: Downstairs!
Child 1: Why are you going downstairs?
Me: I need to move the laundry around.
Child 1: What do you need to do?
Me: I need to move the laundry around.
Child 1: What do you need to move around?
Me: The laundry.
Child 1: And where is the laundry?
Me: In the laundry room.
Child 1: Which room?
Me: The laundry room.
Child 1: And where is the laundry room?
Me: Downstairs.
Child 1: Where is it?
Me: Shoots self in head
I've got 3 more weeks of this until his camp starts.
Monday, June 13, 2011
I think I changed my mind
So, you remember last week how I talked about how the Empress wrote a post and changed my entire perspective about life? And as you read the words, fat assed cherubs started flying around your head? And as the cherubs played their whatever fucking thing it is that cherubs play, unicorns and rainbows appeared out of nowhere and swirled around you? And you guys were all "oh my god, what a great attitude you have, Jill! I WISH I COULD BE JUST LIKE YOU FOREVER AND EVER BECAUSE YOU'RE THE BEST MOM EVER."
Remember that?
Yeah, fuck that. I have a completely different perspective on my clingy kid after the weekend I've just had. Sorry, Empress; I guess my brain can't process that kind of good feeling for more than a few days or so, especially not with all these factors working against me. I've spent the weekend practically with Child 2 glued to my side. I'm sure there were actually many hours in which he was somewhere else, but it sure fucking felt like he was there 24/7.
It all started on Friday afternoon when I'm hanging around on the K yard with him and his buddies and he would cry and sit in my lap at the drop of a hat. Everything was my fault, though. I made him fall; I made the ball hit him in the head, etc. I was only there with him for about 45 minutes but by the time it was over my patience was very very thin. Luckily it was Friday, though. And Fridays are drinkin' days in my house.
Saturday was Birthday Party #1. It was at the place where his buddy takes karate (and his buddy's mom is my friend and I love hanging out with her, so that was helpful. She'll probably read this, too. Hi H's Mom!!!!!!!). At one point there was an injustice (somebody bumped him? I don't know. Does it matter?) and the tears started flowing. I was standing across the room, watching, and I knew that if I were to get myself involved it would just be another cascade of blame, so I watched as the Karate chick... (actually I think they're called "Masters" or something, except it's a woman. Do women still get called "Masters" ? I guess "Mistress" is too S&M or something, although this woman is so fucking kick ass awesome she's definitely earned the title of "Master." Okay, Master it is!) ... so, I stayed there by the food table and conspicuously stared at the cheese and salami platter and watched as the Karate Master chick completely defused his tantrumming simply by not being me.
I'm sorry but that fucking pisses me off. Okay, I know. I KNOW. The fact that he can fucking "let it all go" with me is an indication that I've done a good job or whatever and he feels safe with me and blah blah blah but fuck that! That's just fucking insulting. I'm sick of being the source of all of his problems.
Sunday was another birthday party and at this point my patience was completely gone, which I think he could sense because it was just another long line of tantrums. He snagged his fingers on the door coming in and it was my fault because I was trying to break his hand. He rubbed his arm up against something and it was my fault because I didn't make him wear a long sleeved shirt and was trying to make his arm burn.
And et cetera.
At one point I was sitting there trying to get him to put his shoes on so that he could go and have some fucking cake and I thought "hey remember how I blogged just a week ago about how my entire perspective on this has changed? One day this will end? And one day I will miss this? Remember that? One day I will miss this. One day I will miss this. One day I will miss this." It was like a mantra.
Didn't work. I have never before in my life wanted to fucking throttle a person more than I did right then. I kept my cool, though. Getting pissed at him only makes it worse. I know from experience.
Oh well; the good attitude was nice while it lasted. Maybe the Empress will write something else?
Remember that?
Yeah, fuck that. I have a completely different perspective on my clingy kid after the weekend I've just had. Sorry, Empress; I guess my brain can't process that kind of good feeling for more than a few days or so, especially not with all these factors working against me. I've spent the weekend practically with Child 2 glued to my side. I'm sure there were actually many hours in which he was somewhere else, but it sure fucking felt like he was there 24/7.
It all started on Friday afternoon when I'm hanging around on the K yard with him and his buddies and he would cry and sit in my lap at the drop of a hat. Everything was my fault, though. I made him fall; I made the ball hit him in the head, etc. I was only there with him for about 45 minutes but by the time it was over my patience was very very thin. Luckily it was Friday, though. And Fridays are drinkin' days in my house.
Saturday was Birthday Party #1. It was at the place where his buddy takes karate (and his buddy's mom is my friend and I love hanging out with her, so that was helpful. She'll probably read this, too. Hi H's Mom!!!!!!!). At one point there was an injustice (somebody bumped him? I don't know. Does it matter?) and the tears started flowing. I was standing across the room, watching, and I knew that if I were to get myself involved it would just be another cascade of blame, so I watched as the Karate chick... (actually I think they're called "Masters" or something, except it's a woman. Do women still get called "Masters" ? I guess "Mistress" is too S&M or something, although this woman is so fucking kick ass awesome she's definitely earned the title of "Master." Okay, Master it is!) ... so, I stayed there by the food table and conspicuously stared at the cheese and salami platter and watched as the Karate Master chick completely defused his tantrumming simply by not being me.
I'm sorry but that fucking pisses me off. Okay, I know. I KNOW. The fact that he can fucking "let it all go" with me is an indication that I've done a good job or whatever and he feels safe with me and blah blah blah but fuck that! That's just fucking insulting. I'm sick of being the source of all of his problems.
Sunday was another birthday party and at this point my patience was completely gone, which I think he could sense because it was just another long line of tantrums. He snagged his fingers on the door coming in and it was my fault because I was trying to break his hand. He rubbed his arm up against something and it was my fault because I didn't make him wear a long sleeved shirt and was trying to make his arm burn.
And et cetera.
At one point I was sitting there trying to get him to put his shoes on so that he could go and have some fucking cake and I thought "hey remember how I blogged just a week ago about how my entire perspective on this has changed? One day this will end? And one day I will miss this? Remember that? One day I will miss this. One day I will miss this. One day I will miss this." It was like a mantra.
Didn't work. I have never before in my life wanted to fucking throttle a person more than I did right then. I kept my cool, though. Getting pissed at him only makes it worse. I know from experience.
Oh well; the good attitude was nice while it lasted. Maybe the Empress will write something else?
Friday, December 24, 2010
Oh my god. I hate snow.
Here we are in beautiful Tahoe City, in a giant 4 bedroom house that my sister in law rents every year. We've been up here once before, some Thanksgiving when Child 1 was a toddler. I was pregnant and really dizzy from the altitude the whole time so my memories of this place were not good to begin with. The drive up here was uneventful, until the last 300 yards, when we encountered an icy uphill final stretch and couldn't make it, in the giant van with front wheel drive. We had to get out and put on the chains and the whole process took about an hour, after we had already been driving for about 5 hours. Luckily it was warm in the car and we had a DVD player and Finding Nemo.
We stopped for gas in the little town of Auburn, California, and while there I went into the local Starbucks, and I swear this place was like fucking Cheers. Every time somebody walked in, everybody who worked there would shout "FRANK!! FRANK'S HERE! HI FRANK!" and the same when they left. It was, without question, the greatest Starbucks I have ever been in. They got my name, too, and shouted a cheery goodbye to me as I left with my mocha and tea for my mother in law. Love that place.
Okay, so first, let me start by saying that I was born in Los Angeles. I then lived in Santa Barbara for 10 years. I then moved to the SF Bay Area, about 13 years ago. I've experienced snow maybe 3 times in my life, this trip included. We came up to this area last winter and it was fun, the boys discovered sledding and I discovered falling in the snow, but it was still fun. I was also in much better shape last year than I am now (mental note: in the future, work out a lot before coming to the snow). I also discovered my hatred of snow last year, but last year we went at the end of the season and it was really more ice than snow, so I'm not sure if that counts as actually experiencing it.
Right now, however, it's fresh. And powdery, I guess you call it. And it's crunchy. And it's fucking everywhere. Right in the backyard of the house is a kind of hill that you can use for sledding, so the boys and their cousin and their grandmother (my MIL) went out to frolic. Child 2 is a natural, last year he took to it like a fucking polar bear (or, some sort of animal that lives in snow, I don't know. An arctic rabbit, maybe?) and this year is no exception; he attacked the mountain with his usual enthusiasm. Here is some of his handiwork:
Child 1 is good with the idea in theory, but in practice I think he's a little let down. He has trouble with the concept that if you point your sled towards a tree, you're going to sled into a tree; and that's bad. So there's always a lot of "NO! Don't go that way" and "STOOOOOOOOOPPPP!!!!!" But, he keeps insisting on doing it again and again. He likes the sledding part, but he also likes just sitting on the sled and hanging out, which I'm okay with. Until he starts tasting the snow, which he sometimes does.
At one point, however, he decided that he wanted to carry his narrow ass all the way up to the top of the hill and sled down. Except, once he got there, he couldn't get any momentum going and he just sat. My MIL was up there and tried to help but he wouldn't allow her to touch him or the sled. He wanted me, thank you, autism! So, I started carrying MY ass all the way up to the top of the hill, except with every step my foot would shoot down about a foot into the snow and I would end up with snow up to my fucking knee. And then when I would try to climb out of my newly formed crater, my other foot would shoot 2 feet into the ground. I had to crawl my way out of these giant holes I had created, with my arms and elbows, and when I got out, my shoes and socks and pants and sleeves were full of the stuff. But I had to keep going, to get to the top, and the process would just repeat itself. Step. FALL. Step. FALL. Crawl, crawl, crawl. Fuck. Step. FALL. Step. FALL. etc.
I finally got to the top and Child 1 decided he didn't want me to push him, after all. I was like "fuck that, you're going" and I gave him a shove. He didn't go very far because the trail was now full of giant craters and it's hard to sled down a hill full of giant craters. So, he got off his sled and said "I'm going over there, instead" and started walking toward a hill that, if he were to sled down it, would lead him directly into the side of the house. My MIL started yelling at him not to sled directly into the house, while he said "but I want to go down this way" and at that point I was like, fuck it. I'm outta here. I loudly announce "I'M GOING INSIDE" and I step, fall, step, fall, crawl crawl crawl my way back down the hill and back into the house, leaving my MIL in charge.
Now I'm inside and I refuse to go back out there. Snow fucking SUCKS! Hubs has taken the boys out again and has graciously agreed to let me stay behind. He says it's too early to start drinking, though (it's 2:30pm). But... he's not here right now, is he?
UPDATE (the next day):
Okay. Fine. I guess it's kinda of pretty. Whatever.
-FUNNY STORY INTERLUDE-
We stopped for gas in the little town of Auburn, California, and while there I went into the local Starbucks, and I swear this place was like fucking Cheers. Every time somebody walked in, everybody who worked there would shout "FRANK!! FRANK'S HERE! HI FRANK!" and the same when they left. It was, without question, the greatest Starbucks I have ever been in. They got my name, too, and shouted a cheery goodbye to me as I left with my mocha and tea for my mother in law. Love that place.
-END OF FUNNY STORY INTERLUDE-
Okay, so first, let me start by saying that I was born in Los Angeles. I then lived in Santa Barbara for 10 years. I then moved to the SF Bay Area, about 13 years ago. I've experienced snow maybe 3 times in my life, this trip included. We came up to this area last winter and it was fun, the boys discovered sledding and I discovered falling in the snow, but it was still fun. I was also in much better shape last year than I am now (mental note: in the future, work out a lot before coming to the snow). I also discovered my hatred of snow last year, but last year we went at the end of the season and it was really more ice than snow, so I'm not sure if that counts as actually experiencing it.
Right now, however, it's fresh. And powdery, I guess you call it. And it's crunchy. And it's fucking everywhere. Right in the backyard of the house is a kind of hill that you can use for sledding, so the boys and their cousin and their grandmother (my MIL) went out to frolic. Child 2 is a natural, last year he took to it like a fucking polar bear (or, some sort of animal that lives in snow, I don't know. An arctic rabbit, maybe?) and this year is no exception; he attacked the mountain with his usual enthusiasm. Here is some of his handiwork:
 |
| If you think you're looking at a sled full of snowballs, you would be correct. This is a sled full of snowballs. |
Child 1 is good with the idea in theory, but in practice I think he's a little let down. He has trouble with the concept that if you point your sled towards a tree, you're going to sled into a tree; and that's bad. So there's always a lot of "NO! Don't go that way" and "STOOOOOOOOOPPPP!!!!!" But, he keeps insisting on doing it again and again. He likes the sledding part, but he also likes just sitting on the sled and hanging out, which I'm okay with. Until he starts tasting the snow, which he sometimes does.
 |
| Just chillin. Literally. |
At one point, however, he decided that he wanted to carry his narrow ass all the way up to the top of the hill and sled down. Except, once he got there, he couldn't get any momentum going and he just sat. My MIL was up there and tried to help but he wouldn't allow her to touch him or the sled. He wanted me, thank you, autism! So, I started carrying MY ass all the way up to the top of the hill, except with every step my foot would shoot down about a foot into the snow and I would end up with snow up to my fucking knee. And then when I would try to climb out of my newly formed crater, my other foot would shoot 2 feet into the ground. I had to crawl my way out of these giant holes I had created, with my arms and elbows, and when I got out, my shoes and socks and pants and sleeves were full of the stuff. But I had to keep going, to get to the top, and the process would just repeat itself. Step. FALL. Step. FALL. Crawl, crawl, crawl. Fuck. Step. FALL. Step. FALL. etc.
I finally got to the top and Child 1 decided he didn't want me to push him, after all. I was like "fuck that, you're going" and I gave him a shove. He didn't go very far because the trail was now full of giant craters and it's hard to sled down a hill full of giant craters. So, he got off his sled and said "I'm going over there, instead" and started walking toward a hill that, if he were to sled down it, would lead him directly into the side of the house. My MIL started yelling at him not to sled directly into the house, while he said "but I want to go down this way" and at that point I was like, fuck it. I'm outta here. I loudly announce "I'M GOING INSIDE" and I step, fall, step, fall, crawl crawl crawl my way back down the hill and back into the house, leaving my MIL in charge.
Now I'm inside and I refuse to go back out there. Snow fucking SUCKS! Hubs has taken the boys out again and has graciously agreed to let me stay behind. He says it's too early to start drinking, though (it's 2:30pm). But... he's not here right now, is he?
UPDATE (the next day):
Okay. Fine. I guess it's kinda of pretty. Whatever.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Descent into madness, Day 4: Is it over yet?
Somewhere in my house right now there exists a pair of pants full of poop. I have no idea where, I have no idea which pants they are, all I know is that Child 1 just appeared in the room, naked from the waist down with a crack-full. He has no idea where they are, no idea what room he was in when he took them off, all he can tell me is that the pants are "out of service."
Y'know, the day started out fine enough, my new client canceled and even though I would prefer to do something that pays money, it was nice to have a few hours off. I went for a walk, I took a nap! I did a bunch of laundry, I cleaned things. Look, I was all ready with a post about how productive I was today and had a picture ready for you guys:
But now I'm just exhausted and feel like I've been beaten into the ground. Missing pantsfulls of poop will do that to you, I guess. And there's still dinnertime and bedtime to get through. Somebody tell me something funny.
Y'know, the day started out fine enough, my new client canceled and even though I would prefer to do something that pays money, it was nice to have a few hours off. I went for a walk, I took a nap! I did a bunch of laundry, I cleaned things. Look, I was all ready with a post about how productive I was today and had a picture ready for you guys:
.png) |
| Awesomeness by Allie Brosh |
But now I'm just exhausted and feel like I've been beaten into the ground. Missing pantsfulls of poop will do that to you, I guess. And there's still dinnertime and bedtime to get through. Somebody tell me something funny.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Descent into madness, Day 3: I am so tired
 |
| Awwwww..... look at that.... sleeping so peacefully.... in my bed..... AT 8:15 THIS MORNING. WAKE THE FUCK UP YOU LAZY KIDS!!! |
Oh my god I think I'm dying, but I feel obligated to write something, even though I'm not even sure if anybody even cares about my adventures in Singleparenthood. (What you people don't realize is that I require constant validation to keep this thing going. By the way, you should be impressed that I had the energy to make those words italics; it was an enormous effort.) I think I actually reached Nirvana a minute ago when Child 1 agreed to play Twister with Child 2 so that I wouldn't have to. Is it shiny, Nirvana? Because what I saw was shiny.
Child 2 and I have started squabbling like some old married couple. Does he have to ask so many questions all the time? Why does he have to be so much like me?? (My mom would be laughing her ass off at me if she were able to figure out how to get here and read this without me posting it on Facebook.) Luckily I was able to pawn him off on his friend H for 3 hours this afternoon and I was able to actually have an adult conversation with H's Mom that didn't involve bookkeeping. Or did it? I honestly don't remember. I do remember getting shot with a nerf gun, though. Maybe there was some long term damage.
I know this is making no sense, but it's good because I'm making good on my promise of incoherent ramblings. Also I'm really tired. Did I mention that yet? I didn't change the clock in the room I'm in right now so I keep thinking it's an hour later than it really is, which would mean bedtime for all of us, which makes me very happy until I realize that I forgot to change the clock in this room and bedtime isn't for another hour. And that makes me sad.
I have a new client tomorrow, I hope I'm able to form sentences, or at least mash my fist into the adding machine a couple of times and pretend that I know how to reconcile a bank account.
Okay, so... tune in tomorrow, when... something something.... *trail off* ......
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Descent into madness, Day 2: The easy part is over
Definitely the hardest part about this pretend single parenting I've been doing is not that I'm responsible for everything; the food, the clothing, the entertainment, the bed times, etc., it's that there's nobody here to take over when I need to say "OMG GET THIS FUCKING KID OUT OF MY SIGHT OR I'M GOING TO LOSE IT." I just have to deal with it and hope I don't fucking snap. Weekends are easy, though, since nobody has to actually be anywhere at any time unless we want to; it's the upcoming week that's going to be hard. I'm working every day, it's still parent/teacher conference week so they're out ridiculously early every day, if you were going to fear for the life of anybody in this house, it would be in the next 3 days. Just FYI.
My kids are such a cliche, during the week I have to drag their little asses out of bed to go to school but on the weekend they're up with the fucking birds, and this morning was no exception. The exception, though, is that they were up an hour earlier than the fucking birds because of the fucking time change. FUCK! Also: FUCK! Luckily our awesome babysitter who is awesome needed some money so she came by and hung out with them for a few hours while I went back to sleep. It was quite amazing how much of a better mood I was in when I woke up the second time. Imagine that.
But it rained all day so we were stuck inside playing Pillow-Pet Volleyball for much of the day. There are a lot of really arbitrary rules in Pillow-Pet Volleyball; at one point I was winning 502 to 1 but then I accidentally knocked off the velcro and turned it from a pet back into a pillow and I lost all my points and ended up losing the game. I really need to get myself to practice more often but it's hard, you know, with the schedule and the work and stuff. There was also much tormenting of cats today. Those poor, poor cats....
Tune in tomorrow when we find out which of the cats has scratched which child and what the results were!
My kids are such a cliche, during the week I have to drag their little asses out of bed to go to school but on the weekend they're up with the fucking birds, and this morning was no exception. The exception, though, is that they were up an hour earlier than the fucking birds because of the fucking time change. FUCK! Also: FUCK! Luckily our awesome babysitter who is awesome needed some money so she came by and hung out with them for a few hours while I went back to sleep. It was quite amazing how much of a better mood I was in when I woke up the second time. Imagine that.
 |
| Pillow-Pet Volleyball. Not kidding about that. Observant readers will notice that he's still wearing the same shirt he was wearing yesterday when I took his picture. Non-observant readers will now notice that because I've pointed it out. |
But it rained all day so we were stuck inside playing Pillow-Pet Volleyball for much of the day. There are a lot of really arbitrary rules in Pillow-Pet Volleyball; at one point I was winning 502 to 1 but then I accidentally knocked off the velcro and turned it from a pet back into a pillow and I lost all my points and ended up losing the game. I really need to get myself to practice more often but it's hard, you know, with the schedule and the work and stuff. There was also much tormenting of cats today. Those poor, poor cats....
Tune in tomorrow when we find out which of the cats has scratched which child and what the results were!
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Descent into madness, Day 1: So far so good
So, I'm finishing up my first day as a single parent and I'm happy to report that everybody is still alive. It helped that Child 2 had a 4 hour playdate in the middle of the day, so I was able to get some quality alone time with Child 1, which I NEVER get to do. He's so passive and sweet and so easily pushed aside by bigger personalities, and Child 2 has always had the personality of 10 kids his age, and it's usually the 3 of us together and it's all C2, C2, C2 all the time. So, it was very nice to spend time with him today, he just operates on a completely different wavelength than I'm used to. He processes things very slowly. I actually learned last year from our beloved Speech Therapist that when you ask a "normie" a question, we generally need about 3 seconds to process the question and respond, and she told me that when I talk to him I should ask and then wait, because he's processing what I've said, he just needs some time. I learned that he needs 6 seconds to process a question (so I'm always asking.... and then counting to 6.... and THEN asking again if I have to, but usually the 6 seconds is long enough and he'll get there) So things with him are slower, but he's SO sweet and kind and beautiful and wonderful and I was happy to hang out with him alone for 4 hours.
Yeah, we went to Target, where he was allowed to pick out anything he wanted. Fuck it, I'll spoil the kid for the day, it's so unusual that he gets to choose anything without C2 input. He chose: tortillas, bologna, jello, chocolate ice cream, hamburger buns and a 50-pack of markers. And he skipped the whole time we were there; he's so fucking adorable! He says "Mama, look at my funny run" and off he goes skipping down the paper towel aisle. And I let him play with the elevators for a while; he wanted to open the doors, run in, press the button and then run out before the doors closed. We encountered many normies who didn't quite know what to make of this behavior. Fuck 'em, I didn't explain and didn't care. Let my child do what he wants in Target on a Saturday morning, you jerks!
Then once C2 was home it was all him him him as usual and C1 was shunted to the background to watch his BART videos. I was then forced to watch YouTube videos of kittens some more, and occasionally was able to free myself, hence the weird blog hop below. (Feel free to add made up shit to that, by the way, I've done my experiment and am over it). I've actually been REALLY bored. Somebody needs to volunteer to entertain me for the next few days!!!
They're still awake now but we're winding things down which means I can start watching porn pretty soon. I mean, um.... reruns of House. I'm going to watch reruns of House on Hulu. *cough*
Yeah, we went to Target, where he was allowed to pick out anything he wanted. Fuck it, I'll spoil the kid for the day, it's so unusual that he gets to choose anything without C2 input. He chose: tortillas, bologna, jello, chocolate ice cream, hamburger buns and a 50-pack of markers. And he skipped the whole time we were there; he's so fucking adorable! He says "Mama, look at my funny run" and off he goes skipping down the paper towel aisle. And I let him play with the elevators for a while; he wanted to open the doors, run in, press the button and then run out before the doors closed. We encountered many normies who didn't quite know what to make of this behavior. Fuck 'em, I didn't explain and didn't care. Let my child do what he wants in Target on a Saturday morning, you jerks!
Then once C2 was home it was all him him him as usual and C1 was shunted to the background to watch his BART videos. I was then forced to watch YouTube videos of kittens some more, and occasionally was able to free myself, hence the weird blog hop below. (Feel free to add made up shit to that, by the way, I've done my experiment and am over it). I've actually been REALLY bored. Somebody needs to volunteer to entertain me for the next few days!!!
They're still awake now but we're winding things down which means I can start watching porn pretty soon. I mean, um.... reruns of House. I'm going to watch reruns of House on Hulu. *cough*
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Hey, remember when I said...
... that I didn't know how single parents did it? Well, I'm about to get a little taste. Hubs is going to New York for 5 days starting Saturday. Anybody want to place bets on who in this house will still be alive when he returns? Or sane? Or still here? It's likely that either Child 2 or myself might either kill the other or simply run away. Actually, he probably wouldn't run away because he would make me come with him, and then Child 1 won't want to go, but I can't leave him home by himself, so then we'll all argue about running away for a while and in the end nobody will go anywhere. And that's when somebody might get hurt. Incidentally, I had to fucking wrestle this computer out of the control of Child 2 who was WATCHING THAT GODDAMN FARTING CAT VIDEO AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN so that I could post this.
So, watch out while I slowly lose my mind over the next 5-6 days! I'll do it all here, for your viewing pleasure. And if anybody lives near me and wants to maybe stop by and check to see if we're all just lifeless corpses, maybe around Monday night next week, that might not be such a bad idea.
So, watch out while I slowly lose my mind over the next 5-6 days! I'll do it all here, for your viewing pleasure. And if anybody lives near me and wants to maybe stop by and check to see if we're all just lifeless corpses, maybe around Monday night next week, that might not be such a bad idea.
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