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.

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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…