I don’t get it.  Spring break?  I don’t think so.  Those two words (put together) are not in the SAHM’s vocabulary.  At least not this SAHM.  No freaking way.  Nope.  Not in the slightest.

My week?  It’s already looking like a little slice of hell served on a dish.  Make that a platter, served by the devil himself.  I’m already dreading it.  This weekend won’t be so bad.  Tonight, my children are doing sleepovers.  I have my niece over spending the night with Big Girl, and they’ll be okay.  But Baby Girl is running a fever of 101.8 last time I checked (pre-Motrin), now she’s down (during Motring), but currently very moody (is it too early for PMS at 19 months old?).  The constant crying if I’m not holding her just adds a little background noise if I get bored, right?

Now, my son…he’s a whole different story himself.  Fresh off the bus, I notice he has on a different pair of pants than I sent him to school in.  And these sweatpants that do not belong to him are extremely over-sized, unbearably ugly and about to fall off his skinny little size tiny body.  Boy is in first grade, is six, and is turning seven this July.  My first thought is, “oh holy hell, he peed his pants at school.  Or worse, he took a dump in them.  WTF.”  So I say, “what happened to your pants, buddy?”  He said, “I just spilled something on my pants at school, that’s all.”  Whew.  What a relief.  At least I don’t have that kid.  You know.  That one.

Then I ask him if he wants to spend the night with his cousin for his birthday.  Let me remind you, Boy has major social anxiety.  He does not bode well in social settings, and his cousin does not attend the same elementary school he does.  So Boy will not know these children his cousin has coming over.  His cousin’s friends are not Boy’s friends.  This will cause a major disruption in Boy’s brain, and cause all kinds of electric currents to go off in his brain and things will be going haywire in there.  Good luck to my brother and his wife. When you flip out because you can’t find Boy because he’s done his normal flipping out and running and hiding, because he can’t handle the pressure of the social scene, odds are, he will be hiding under a bed, in a closet, or behind a piece of furniture.  Good luck to you.  Oh, and tell your sanity good riddance as well.  At least I sent him with his iPod, so he can FaceTime me when he needs to chat.  So, I expect no sleep tonight, because I will be on the phone with him nonstop.  He won’t want to leave, but he won’t want to get off FaceTime with me either.  I’m already smiling from the excitement.  Woo-hoo!  (Enter sarcasm here.)

Oh, here comes Big Girl asking if her friend can spend the night as well.  Yay me!

And did I forget to mention, I’m now the soccer coach for Big Girl’s soccer team?  Yep, yours truly is coaching her U8 soccer team.  And I don’t know one f’ing thing about soccer.  I know your supposed to stay on the field (and I now know it’s called a field, after I called it a court the other day and got told that it definitely was NOT a court – it was a field!) and I know you are supposed to try to kick it into the goal, and not use your hands.  That is the extent of my knowledge of soccer.  Beyond that, I know nothing.  So, good luck to me!  And with my luck, I’m not even starting at a young age, I’m starting where the parents are going to want a competitive coach and the kids probably know a lot, and have been playing for a couple years.  Where we are from, soccer is pretty big (at least in this county).  So I figure I’m going to spend most of my season being yelled at by my parents.  I haven’t gotten a chance to hold practice yet, because we were rained out this past week.  And next week (spring break) I will be out of town on our regularly scheduled practice night, and so will my assistant coach (my sister), so we are moving the practice to Tuesday nights, and the forecast is calling for rain.  Our first game is the following Saturday.  All with no practice it’s looking like.  WINNERS!

Back to spring break.  Here’s how mine is shaping up to be:

Monday:

9am-12pm: Big Girl – soccer camp

6pm-7pm: Boy – boy scouts

Tuesday:

9am-12pm: Big Girl – soccer camp

5:30pm-7pm: soccer practice (if it doesn’t rain)

Wednesday:

9am-12pm: Big Girl – soccer camp

1pm-3pm: Big Girl’s friend’s birthday party

7pm – Maroon 5 concert in DC (and I have floor seats baby!! Best part of the week!  I get to see the man of my dreams Adam Levine!)

Big Girl has a sleepover

Thursday:

8am-8:30am – pick Big Girl up from sleepover

9am-12pm: Big Girl – soccer camp

Friday:

9am-12pm: Big Girl – soccer camp

1pm – Take Big Girl and Baby Girl to my mom

3pm – Boy has psychiatric appointment at UVA (for his social anxiety – he has check-ups every two months)

Big Girl has another sleepover

Saturday:

2pm – Boy has counseling

sometime (haven’t gotten the schedule yet) our first soccer game

Sunday:

Easter – Family gathering – may require either Xanax or drinking.  Probably heavy drinking after the week I’ve had.  Or just a Xanax.  Who knows?  I guess time will tell.

my crazy calendar the week of spring break (and the rest of the month actually!)

my crazy calendar the week of spring break (and the rest of the month actually!)

Anyway, that is how my so-called “Spring Break” is looking – as of today.  I feel like everyday it’s changing, every day something new is happening and my calendar is growing and growing.  I was supposed to be heading to the beach for a relaxing vacation.  Doesn’t look so relaxing, now does it?  But then again, motherhood isn’t relaxing when you have three children ages 7 and under.

Monkey Poo Flinging Day

Holy freakin’  moly.  It’s a “I need want to pop a Xanax and wash it down with a triple shot of Patron margarita” day.  Ha.  If only.  Right?  If only death wasn’t the result.

What the hell is going on today?  Everyone is driving me insane!  Everyone.  Literally.

The baby won’t stop crying.  She’s sitting in my lap as I’m typing, because if I put her down, the flood gates open.  She’s only happy in my lap.  Other than that, all hell breaks loose.

Boy got off the bus being in a mood.  This has been a great, fun afternoon with him.  Let me tell you what.  He decided in order for his homework to be done, he needed to sharpen his pencil in our automatic pencil sharpener.  So he sticks the pencil in, lets it twirl around and around, and he dances all around the office while this is happening.  Meanwhile, the pencil is not being sharpened, just twirling around and around, and is making that horrific grinding sound.  You know, the one you can just feel down to your bone?  Yeah, that one.  It goes on and on for about ten minutes straight.  I finally decide to walk in there and see what is going on and try to navigate him out of there and back towards his homework.  Only, I get to the office a second too late.  Baby Girl got there first.  And of course, Boy didn’t like that.  He slammed her hand in the office door.  Nice big brother, right?  Just what I was thinking.  So that set off the wailing sirens again.  Fun times, I’ll tell ya!

After I finally get him settled back into his seat and start to work on homework, he then pulls out his portraits from his backpack from their spring pictures they had taken at school and received today to bring home.  Big Girl tries to look at his, and he looses all control.  He looks like a gorilla with big swinging arms trying to collect them all before she can sneak a peek at the face she sees everyday.  Big ol’ Donkey Kong making grunting noises, trying to prevent his sister from seeing a picture of his mug, which turns into another fight.  I   They start batting and swinging a little, hit and miss, pencils in hand.  I may as well just have monkeys running around flinging poo at each other.  I feel like that’s what is happening anyway.  At least I may have a shot at someone listening.  The monkeys may actually listen better to me than my own children.  There’s a pretty good chance of that, actually.

After the homework battle is finally complete, we move on to the battle of the Baby Girl.  She is just walking around and around crying and crying.  Why you ask?  Why am I not holding her?  Comforting her?  Seeing what is wrong?  Oh believe me, I have.  I’ve done it all.  She’s fed.  She’s been changed.  She’s healthy.  She’s not teething.  She’s 110% happy – as long as she’s in my arms.  She is so spoiled rotten.  She will be crying so hard you’d think she needs to go to the emergency room because she looks like she has a broken bone, and then Mommy picks her up, and she’s giggling so hard and she’s so happy!  What an actress she is.  She has such a brilliant personality at a year-and-a-half old already.  I can’t stand the fact that I have to face this for the next sixteen years or so.  I have a feeling she’ll outwit me a time or two.  This one seems pretty good…I may have met my match…

And that, my friends, is quite the scary thought.

Thankfully, I have a great hubby coming to the rescue.  He’s bringing home dinner.  Yep, we’re cheating tonight.  Cheating together!  With food.  He’s bringing home takeout from one of our favorite places to eat.  Good old Glory Days.

Yum. Sauce.

Kindle Craziness!

WOW it’s been awhile since I’ve posted anything.  It’s just been crazy.  The end of the school year, broken bones, all kinds of trips with the kids, new animals added to the household (a beautiful new Calico cat named Daisy).  It’s just been a wild and crazy time.  3 kids and me leaves me no time at all to do much of anything for myself.

The newest craze in my house with my kids is their kindles.  Thank goodness.  I love to be able to say that my kids new craze isn’t a video game.  Or anything wacky or stupid that’ll get them hurt.  I already have a kid with a broken bone.  Boy broke his finger and boy was that the biggest ordeal of the year so far.  That was the craziest week of my life for a long time.

The whole craze started when I started reading books on my iBooks on my iPad, and Best Friend was reading books on her hubby’s (who also happen’s to be my brother!) kindle touch.  We were talking about the differences between the two over the phone in conversations, then through text as well all the time.  She bragged about the kindle touch a lot, and to me it sounded unbelievable, but as I told her and Hubby, I just couldn’t imagine spending the money on an e-reader when I had iBooks on my iPad.  But then…

We came face-to-face when the kindle touch and the iBooks on the iPad.  And I was sold.  I bought my kindle touch that day.  Literally as soon as I got home I ordered it.  And of course, Brother, who always has the best things (I so hope he read that, because if he did, he rolled his eyes and said “whatever”), had the best case in the world for his kindle touch too.  It comes with a light at the top that you can pull out, and it runs off the battery of the kindle.  (The battery also lasts for months apparently if you keep the wi-fi turned off.)  So I also ordered the same case.  Duh, why wouldn’t I?!

And once again, I’m addicted.  This time, to my Kindle Touch.

Then the mistake came.  My kids saw it.  Big Girl, who is the biggest reader I’ve ever met of a child, wanted one.  And me being the mother I am, of course wanted to buy her one immediately.  And Hubby said, “go ahead, if there’s a kid that deserves one, it’s her.”  She came home from school this year, finishing first grade, with a perfect report card for not only the last semester, but the entire year, and her reading teacher wrote that she was reading consistently at a 3rd grade level at this time.  When we are at home, she walks around reading.  She takes books in the car.  She reads her self to sleep at night.  She takes books everywhere.  She definitely does deserve one.  And I’m so proud of her!  So I told her all of that.  We told her how proud of her we were, and that we ordered her one.  The joy that overcame her face was enough to know right then and there that the decision was right.  She was so happy.

Then came the problem.  How do we tell boy that he wasn’t getting one and she was?

So hers came yesterday.  She opened it.  He got mad.  Of course.

I sat him down and talked to him, and started explaining to him why we got Big Girl one and not him.  I said, “We got Big Girl one because she came home with a perfect report card and her teacher said she was reading at third grade level, and we are very proud of her.”

His response: “Well, I had a perfect report card all year too, Mom.  And I learned to read this year.”

Man down.  And that man was me.

How the f do you come back from that?  So instead of discouraging his reading efforts, I decided to order him one, against my better judgement. But after all, he is right.  If that’s the standard I was going on, my 5-year-old son was smart enough to point it out, and I wasn’t smart enough to see it myself.  How could I not know he wouldn’t understand and get mad?

So, I got on Amazon and ordered Boy one.  But I had a huge talk with him.  I told him if he didn’t use it, and I didn’t see him trying to learn how to read better and making a big effort to read, I would sell it to someone else that loves to read.  I told him he didn’t need one just because me and Big Girl have one.  But I also want to encourage both my kids to read, the love it, and anything I can do to help, I will.  And if this is something that will help him, I’m all for it.  If not, I’m sure the thing will sell for a decent amount and I won’t lose too much money (staying positive!).

So that’s what’s going on at our house nowadays…

We leave for the beach in less than 2 weeks, we will be going to Water Country tomorrow (I hope).  And in the mean time, there will always be the Kindle Touch…

Last freakin’ week was a BUMMER!

What a freakin’ week I had last week.  It was a BUMMER.

Sunday 3/18/2012:

It started off with a phone call from my momma last weekend bright and early in the morning, “I’m heading to Baltimore.  Your cousin Brian committed suicide.”

Of course, the first words out of my mouth were, “Do I need to come up there?”

No, no I don’t, she tells me.  I don’t have to go.  They don’t know what’s happening yet.  They don’t know yet if there’s even going to be a funeral.  It all is still fresh, she doesn’t know much else, but she’s heading to Baltimore as soon as my aunt came in from Richmond.  They were riding together to head to Baltimore to hold my other aunt’s hand.  Poor woman.  I couldn’t imagine.  Her only son.  She is the one that found him hanging there, too.  I don’t know what I would’ve done.  But I do believe she’s braver than I am.  I don’t know that I’d still be walking if I were in that situation.

Tuesday night 3/20/2012:

(Hysterical sobbing coming through the front door)  “Ummm, she fell.”  Says one of neighborhood kids.

My poor Big Girl.  Bloody, messy road rash from around her eyebrow bone down to her chin.  Mouth pouring blood.  Hobbling on one leg.  Knee pouring blood too.  Wonderful.

The hysterical crying goes on for a good thirty minutes.  I can’t see inside her mouth, all I can tell is the pouring blood won’t stop.  And she won’t let me look in there.  But all I can see is blood spewing out.

I call the dentist.  Of course, they’re closed.  Thankfully, their wonderful pediatric dentist has her cell phone on the answering machine in case of an emergency.  I called her.  She says she’d meet me tonight, or wait until the morning.  Finally, I get her to calm down.  I choose morning after talking to the dentist and getting Big Girl calmed down.

Big Girl of course, won’t eat dinner.  Won’t take a shower.  Won’t brush her teeth.

So of course, Boy doesn’t want to do any of it either.

Finally: bed time.

Wednesday 3/21/2012:

12:05AM – (puke, puke, puke) (cry, cry, cry) (puke, puke, puke) (cry, cry, cry)

Holy hell.

My son has just exorcist puked everywhere.  All over his bed, all down his bed, all over himself.  All over his floor, all around his room, and all over the bathroom, toilet, and floor.  So disgusting.

This has been the best six hours of my life.  (As I roll my eyes…)

I finally get him cleaned up.  And the floor.  And his bed stripped of bedding.  And the bathroom cleaned.  And a load of laundry started.  Then he wants to sleep with me.  No f’ing way.  Are you kidding me?!  Puke Pants McGee?  In my bed?  I don’t f’ing think so.  Instead I say, “You can sleep on my floor buddy, right beside me, ok?  I’ll make you a little bed.”

He nods like it’s the best thing on earth!  Both my big children love to sleep on the floor (this I don’t understand, but they do it all the time! – by choice!)  So I make him a bed on the ground.  I think I fall back asleep finally around 1:30am maybe – maybe.

2Am –  I hear little feet racing across my bathroom floor.  Then I hear puke.  Here we go again.

3AM – Puke.

4AM – Puke.

5AM – Puke.  And more puke.

6AM – Puke.

7AM – Puke.

8AM – Puke.  Headed to dentist with Big Girl.

9AM – Thankfully, from what the x-ray shows, Big Girl only chipped a tooth.  But, from how swollen her mouth is, dentist can’t see much else.  She won’t do anything until next appointment.  Until then, good luck.  See you next week.  Great :/

3:15PM – Doctor with all 3 kids, for Boy.  Strep test.  Negative – thank God.  Even though Big Girl just had strep.  Woo hoo!   Just a stomach bug. Gross.

Thursday 3/22/2012

Big Girl stayed home.  Forced Boy to go to school.  No fever, no pukes.  But we missed the bus.  So I drive him.  Still have Big Girl home.  She kinda gets on my nerves all day.  She’s bored with being home for the second day in a row.  I had to pack for me, my hubby, and Baby Girl to head to Maryland for the night.  Big kids went to their dad’s after school so we could head to Maryland for the viewing and funeral.

8PM – Arrived at hotel in Maryland.

8:20PM – Left for funeral home for the viewing.

Friday 3/24/2012

11AM – Funeral for my cousin.  Who was about six months older than I was.  That’s it.  He was born only six months earlier than I was.  And he took his own life.  We grew up together.  It makes me so sad.  And mad that he could do that to his family.  To his children.  To his mother.  And sisters.  And the rest of his friends and family.  And everyone dealing with the fallout of it.  He got to escape the pain, all the while pushing it onto others.  It’s selfish really.

3PM – Finally heading home.  DC traffic on a Friday?  Gross.

7PM – Finally home.  Paradise.  Hubby and I talk about how wonderful it is to be at home.  What a great life we have together.  How magical it is to be home.

Praying for a better week…

I feel like someone is playing a mean trick on me…

Well, I haven’t written in awhile.  Thankfully, my Aunt Seashell wrote today (check out her awesome blog here) about how she hasn’t written in awhile either, and it made me feel not so bad.  I’ve been battling the sickness back and forth with my kiddos.  My Big Girl and my Baby Girl both have been sick since last week.  And gross sick.  Big Girl has had strep for almost a week.  We found out last night her first antibiotic isn’t working.  She’s still running a 101 fever.  So today we were able to start antibiotic number two.  Hopefully this one helps.  So after almost a week with strep, she is also barking like a seal now when she coughs.  She had a field trip today at school, which she missed, because she couldn’t even go to school, due to the fever she was running – once again – this morning.

Baby Girl has been sick on and off since last week too.  She got real sick last week and was seen by the doctor.  They strep tested her on Friday after they found out Big Girl had strep, but Baby Girl’s came back as negative (woo hoo!).  The doctor said her disgustingness was likely due to either teething or a cold, either way, he couldn’t give her medicine due to the fact that she was only six months and had no signs of infection.  That was Friday.  Saturday and Sunday she took a turn for the worse.  Then of course Monday, she got miraculously better.  Today, again, worse.

I feel like someone is playing a mean trick on me.  I feel like someone is wondering when I’m going to give up, wondering how much more I can take or something.  It feels like someone is doing this on purpose.  It’s literally like one thing after another, with nothing going away, even with antibiotics, things are getting worse and not better.

Here it is, two in the afternoon, and I’m finally sitting down for the first time today.  I’ve done so much stupid work around the house.  I still have so much stupid work to do.  I still have sick children.  I have a boy coming home from school in an hour.  I have a husband with a super sale at work this week, meaning I’ll barely see him at all this week (I hate these sales because I never see him! But I do wish him the best of luck!), plus I have a TON of school work to get done…but what do I feel like doing?  Napping, couponing, catching up on the thousands of tv shows on my dvr…oh man how that would be WONDERFUL!!!!!  To not go fold laundry, to not go vacuum, sweep, mop, or clean bathrooms…any of it.  Oh the life I could dream about.

What am I talking about though?  This is the life I always dreamt about.  I’ve got it pretty damn good.  Even with sick kids and a hubby working hard all week.  At least I have a hard-working hubby and beautiful kids I actually care about taking care of when they’re sick.  And at least I have a house I can clean and clothes to put on our children’s backs.  That’s the good life.

Hello world!

Bare with me all, as I figure out this world of blogging…I have no clue what I’m doing.

Plus, I’ve had a horrible day; and I’m writing this at 12:14am while my husband snores away beside me.  And I just got my almost 6-month-old asleep.  Yes, just now.  Well, like 15 minutes ago.  But my day started out a little something like this…

all night long – fighting Baby Girl (5 1/2 months old) to go to, and stay, asleep as she pukes all over me, all over her floor and our bed like five times.

6:22am – Text from the ex-husband “Big Girl is sick and can’t go to school can you keep her or do I need to?” (we are divorced and share custody week-on/week-off) so of course I text back and say yes I’ll keep her.  (They come to me after school everyday anyway, even on his weeks, so she’d be here anyway later…plus I’m her mother!  Of course I want her when she’s sick!)

7:52am – Big Girl is dropped off by ex to me at my house.  He tells me she woke up at 3am and shit her pants while puking.  Fun times already.  Hmmm…maybe I should’ve said no… (lol)

9something am – First shitting episode.

11something am – Second shitting episode for Big Girl (oh, and she’s 6 by the way and needs help cleaning up herself when her ass explodes in the toilet, down her pants, or wherever she manages to be when it comes pouring out).

This whole time…baby is puking randomly.  Jealous yet?

12pm – I realize I have children’s pepto.  The stomach Gods must have just woken up.  Lucky bastards.

3pm – Boy (who’s 5 and diagnosed with bad OCD and anxiety) gets home from school.

3:05pm – Fighting Boy to sit down to do schoolwork.

3:15pm – Still fighting Boy to do homework, while Big Girl rubs it in his face that she’s been home watching movies and playing games with Mommy.  All the while, Baby Girl is in her highchair screaming.  Not fussing, just screaming.  She’s found her voice.  Makes for excellent background noise (can’t you just hear my sarcasm…)

4pm – Homework is finally done by Boy.  High five.  Baby Girl needs a nap.  Won’t take one.  So she cries and whines until I’m able to put her down again later.

5pm – Big Girl and Boy leave with father.  Big Girl screams “No!  I want to stay with Mommy!”  Hardest thing I’ve had to do is tell her it’s a Daddy day.  She doesn’t feel good.  She wants her momma.

5:05pm – Ex gets them both out the door.  Time for Baby Girl to nap.  Oh, and by the way, she takes 20 minute naps.  Just long enough for me to come out of her room and get started on something.  Then she wakes up.

7pm – Call the hubby.  “I’m busy, can’t talk, call you back.”  Click.

7:42pm – Hubby calls, he’s on his way home.  But in a bad mood.  He’s been sick too.  Man do I have the life this week.

8:30pm – Dinner’s done.  Woo hoo.  Steak and potatoes.  My hubby cooks a mean steak.

9pm – Hubby: “I’m going to bed, I still don’t feel well.”  I take Baby Girl to the bath to get the sweet potatoes off of her face from her dinner.

9:30pm – Baby Girl is in bed.  Yay!

10pm – Baby Girl is up.  Holy penis 😦

11pm – Baby Girl still up.  Hubby sleeping.  I’m irritated.

12 pm – Baby Girl is finally asleep.  I need to vent.  I find this blog.

I will probably be up all night now.  Playing with this blog.  Doing school work for my second degree.  Fighting Baby Girl to sleep while she pukes on me as my hubby snores me out of the house.

And that’s how this starts…