So Yay Friday

My morning has been AWESOME.
*insert dripping sarcasm here*

After what I would guess was the 17th night in a row of restless baby sleep, this one being far worse because his little sinuses are so congested, I had the morning from...well lets just say it wasn't the best.

I woke up at 7 am to a pissed off baby.  Great.  My alarm doesn't go off until 7:45.  BOO!!!
Once he decided that he was done crying, Moose is the king of crying when he's almost but not quiet awake...I headed out to get a bottle.  Deciding a potty break was in order 1st, I ducked into the mostly completed 1st floor bath...yeah it has no door.  Eh, whatever.

I noticed as I sat upon the throne that there was a MASSIVE...and I mean the size of a freakin quarter...spider on the floor!  AAAAAAAACK!!!  It appeared to be dead.  So what do I do, wad half the roll of TP around my hand and go in for the smoosh & flush.  IT GOT UP AND RAN!!! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!  And what do I do...run after it.  I swear to God this thing got up on its back legs and HISSED at me!  I grabbed a box and smashed it to oblivion...which in retrospect only created a huge mess for me to clean up.  FYI...big spiders like that, sort of pop like a small water balloon when you smash them.  *Shudders*

I hand sanitized, brushed the heebie jeebies off me and moved on.  I got a bottle for little man and headed back to our room.  I no more sat down and got the bottle in his mouth and RAAAAAAAAAAAALPH!  The kid horked ALL over himself and me!!  And not a little, and not food...all bile and snot!  :(  My poor little guy!  

The teething, and possibly a little bit of a cold, are kicking his ass!  He has so much snot and is so congested that he slept in his car seat last night :(  and apparently it was just more than his tummy could handle.

So nothing like smooshing monster spiders and the smell of belly juice in the morning!  The coffee is on warm and one cup is down the hatch.  Johnny Test is on TV and little Miss is making Valentines...I don't know...don't ask me.  Moose is psychotically gnawing on his hand...wait make that my hand...oh nope...his hand.

WHICH brings me to my tiny doctor vent.  I love our pediatrician.  She's an excellent doc.  Yesterday I called to make sure they didn't want to see Moose because of the congestion.  I mentioned something about Tylenol and the nurse says "does he have a fever?"  Uhm no I already told you, no fever, no green snot, just really congested and OBVIOUSLY teething.  She flipped at me about Tylenol!  "You're not supposed to use that except the day of vaccinations or if they have a fever over 101.  

I said (oozing with sass mind you) "Really...cuz I'm not sure about the bottle you have...but the one I bought says 'fever reducer and PAIN RELIEVER' and uhm...my boy is in pain."

She argued with me that it's not good for him because he is so small.  Look...I don't give it to him nonstop, hell I don't even give it to him every day...but if he cries off and on for 2 hours all the while frantically chewing on things and gagging himself, I'm giving him something!

So me being me I run through the options (already giggling because I knew where this was going)...

Me:  Ok what about infant Motrin

Her:  Uhm that's the same thing

Me:  Mmmm not really its Motrin not Tylenol, but ok...what about Orajel

Her: Orajel has been linked to blue baby syndrome and we never recommend using it

Me:  What about those homeopathic teething tablets?

Her:  I don't know anything about those so...

Me:  OK Fine...then whiskey on the gums it is!

Dead Silence.

I had a hell of a time not laughing out loud.  Why do people take me so seriously?!? 

Finally after she stuttered a few times I said I was kidding.  She told me she would talk to the doc about Tylenol and call me back...they never did.  Which I am taking as them saying "give him the Tylenol" (which I literally just did 2 sentences ago).

So its Friday again.  I am planning a lazy day.  Welcome to my new FF.  And to the rest of you TGIF!!

The Levels & Definitions of Crazy *21st Cent Style*

This post goes out to Drew & Chrissy and the rest of my girls on TB BLF and their awesome BSC's who keep us giggling, rolling our eyes, and sighing on a regular basis.

There are a number of levels of crazy.  I wish I could do visual aids with this post, but I'm sure it would get me in trouble down the line.

I consider myself a bit of an authority on these levels as in years past I have had to deal with people of all sorts of crazy, spanning from your run of the mill "eccentric" type, to the type that leave you counting on your fingers the number of personalities they have.
The levels of crazy are subjective and trying to fit a person into one of these levels can often be quite difficult because crazy is as crazy does and crazy like to change quite frequently!  I will do my best to explain these levels and the proper usage of the terms.  Please...do not attempt to explain to a crazy person, what level of crazy they fit into.  This will likely enrage them and send them into a gorilla-esque chest pounding fury!

Let us begin.

Whackadoo  This term refers to someone acting out of sorts or out of character to a concerning level.  A person acting or being whackadoo has obviously "lost their gourd" or completely checked out of reality.  In a whackadoo's case, this is usually a temporary loss of sanity and will cease as soon as someone steps up to remind the whackadoo of what reality is.
Proper usage of the term Whackadoo:
Someone who snaps temporarily under pressure:
"Did you see her go totally whackadoo and start screaming in court today?!?"
Someone who has inflated their self worth to ridiculous proportions
"He has got to be whackadoo if he thinks he can hit on that cop and not get a ticket."
Someone who threatens others needlessly or with silly meaningless terms:
"That Whackadoo really just said she would beat my greasy head-face in, didn't she!?"


At the whackadoo level, a crazy is almost never a threat.  They may THINK they are a threat, but one of the shining characteristics of a whackadoo is an inflated sense of self worth and occasionally flat out narcissism.  As a result, the only threat they pose is one of offering nasty insults or a rough tongue lashing.

Koo-Koo-Loolie is a term use to describe someone of a general level of insanity, who while likely not harmful to others, can be described as "not right" or "off" to a level beyond that of a normal functioning person.
The term Koo-Koo-Loolie can be used when talking about
Mothers-In-Law:  "Dude, your mother-in-law is koo-koo-loolie if she thinks you're not only going to let her stay with you for a whole 3 weeks this summer, but also cancel all your plans to hang out with her and drive her around everywhere!"
Ex-Lovers/Ex-Spouses:  "Man your ex is a total Koo-koo-loolie!  Does she really believe all those lies she tells?  She actually convinced herself that you got a cop to falsify reports!"
Relatives:  "My aunt is so koo-koo-loolie!  She actually took her dead cat's body and had it stuffed!  It's sitting next to her chair!"
And that 80 something year old lady at the park who talks to her shoes all day.


Please note:  A person who is koo-koo-loolie will likely NOT push you into traffic, but will think about it.  This person will frequently make up lies about themselves and others and in extreme cases, tell the lies so much that they begin to believe them.  A koo-koo-loolie is most likely a coward, but as anyone who watches Criminal Minds knows, it only takes one life changing event to push someone to the next level.  A koo-koo-loolie can quickly fall over the edge so be cautious when dealing with any one who falls into this category.



Bat Shit Crazy (BSC).
There are 2 schools of thought on the origins of the term Bat Shit Crazy.  Some say that the term referred to those who contracted histoplasmosis and are said to have gone "crazy" as a result.  Histoplasmosis is a Tuberculosis type of chronic lung disease which, if left untreated can cause blindness and all sorts of other pleasant things.  Others say that the term stems from the term "bats in the belfry".  If an old church was abandoned, the belfry (area where the large  bell was housed), often became the home to bats.  To say that someone has 'bats in the belfry' is to say that they have nothing going on "upstairs" or in their brain.  According to urbandictionary.com, to say someone is bat shit crazy is to take it a step further and imply that it has been so long since there has been any activity upstairs, that not only are there bats in the belfry but it is also full of bat shit.  Which origin is correct is neither here nor there...in any case...Bat Shit Crazy is not a good thing.

Some people will claim that BSC is the highest level of crazy you can find.  This writer disagrees.
While a person who is Bat Shit Crazy has very little grasp on reality, and is prone to completely psychotic behavior and skitzo thought patterns, they are often self absorbed and as such, unlikely to be a threat for any lengthy period of time.

Bat Shit Crazy is reserved for those who's level of insanity extends FAR beyond the reaches of this universe.  A BSC does not think in a logical manner and their actions often leave normal people staring in awe and wonder with their jaws on the floor.  It is quite frequently impossible to comprehend what would drive a BSC to do the things they do.  There is no rhyme or reason to their actions though to them...there is almost always a purpose.  Do NOT attempt to understand a BSC, it will befuddle you and cause eye twitches.

"That broad is Bat Shit Crazy!" 
Ok that's the only example I've got.


Last but not least is the category of:

Straight up Shirley Mason
One must exercise extreme caution when using this term as it is likely to offend one, if not all, of the personalities belonging to the person of whom you are referring.  Shirley Ardell Mason, also known as Sybil, was one of the first people to be diagnosed with multiple personality disorder/dissociative identity disorder.  Her mother was a schizophrenic who used to peep into neighbors windows at night.  Shirley Mason had as many as 16 identified personalities!  In other words, she was never lonely!  At best Mason was an
extremely suggestible hysteric...I think I know one of those...
So Straight up Shirley Mason, as you can imagine, is something reserved for those who's level of crazy is of the keep the party going type.

SUSMs are prone to blackouts where they remain conscious but have no recollection of events, being your friend one minute "Hey Hon, it's me..." then threatening to kill your significant other the next...then back to being your friend "...but I'm not calling to fight!"
SUSM is a very scary thing to witness.  Often SUSM leaves the other people in the room wondering if THEY'RE all crazy...after all, how can this person seem to be so many people?!

If you encounter a SUSM stay the F away!  There is no winning with them.  There is no reasoning with them.  There is no working as one with them...because you will just have to start over at square one when Victoria disappears and the next personality comes out to play!
SUSMs will often be adamant that events never happened.  They will swear people are making things up and that they would remember, when in reality...they were not here for reality.
"I don't know what she was talking about today in court because she was Straight-up Shirley Mason!"
"I swear she told me she cheated on me but she swears she never said it!  She must have been straight up Shirley Mason!"
"WHOA!  SLOW DOWN THERE SHIRLEY MASON...You can't keep bouncing from nice to psycho on me!"



Now, in no way am I slamming anyone who has a REAL disorder they are seeking help for.  I applaud anyone who is seeking help for doing so.
I'm not a shrinky dink.  I'm not a counselor.  I'm just a girl who can't count on one hand (literally) the number of levels of crazy she has dealt with in her recent past.



Next time around, I will touch on other types of BSC including:

Creepophiles-those people you meet who just KNOW there's a term out there that applies to them that has 'ophile' as the suffix.
Skeezoids-those girls that go waaaaay too far beyond slutty.
and my personal fave McMoochers-those who will do anything and use anyone to get a meal ticket.

OK!!!

So I apologize 1st and foremost for failing my "a day in the life of" post.  The day before yesterday I started it, but I had so much to do.  Then yesterday was wasted in court and at my local Verizon dealer...who by the way, I freakin love!
I know everyone complains about Verizon but honestly-they're great!  I've been with them since they were still Ameritech back in 1999 and as a result, my loyalty is often rewarded with upgrades and freebees and stuff like that.  To say they took care of me yesterday would be an insult to Kevin, the DeKalb, IL Verizon employee who spent forever trying to fix my phone and then getting me a new one and getting it all set up.

See my phone had some issues...well lets go back.  2 weeks ago my Blackberry Storm completely freaked on me, shut down and refused to turn back on.  Awesome!!!  I love it when I have no phone.  Verizon promptly sent a new one out to me because it was still under warranty.  Now when I say new, er rather when THEY say new, what they mean is refurbed and not very well either.  The screen didn't line up and light leaked out all around it, there were a few scratches but as long as it worked, that's all I cared about.  Mine was, after all, almost 9 months old - you could say it was scratched too.

Well the new phone...not much better.  I swear it was the definition of "ghost in the machine".  It would randomly turn the speaker phone on and off during conversations, which could have been embarrassing!  It refused to charge right, saying there was not ample power to charge the unit.  And the browser didn't work right...which meant no middle of the night bumping while I was feeding little man!

So I go to the store with it yesterday after a handful of unsuccessful attempts to fix it with tech support over the phone and Kevin tried to figure out what was wrong with it.  After almost an hour he stated "This phone is just screwed up!"  Hmmm...ya think?!?
Another woman came over and started talking to us asking what was wrong with it. I described the problems and after stating the charging problem I said, "You don't think it not charging would have anything to do with me not paying the electric bill, do you?"
They both stopped dead in their tracks, jaws down, stammering over their words.
I CRACKED UP!  "I'm totally messing with you!"  We all got a huge laugh out of it!  They thought I was serious!!!

So the phone is fixed.  Court is done for the next 3 months.  I'm back to sleeping WONDERFULLY!!!!  It's nice to walk out of the court house feeling like things are looking up rather than being worried stupid all the time.

So I am back to my 'a day in the life' project today, and starting a new photo project today also.
Keep close so you don't miss anything!!!

Till tomorrow...Seacrest OUT!

Lysol

So I freakin HATE Lysol.  The smell makes me ill.  It always seems like I can taste the smell of it long after I encounter it.  If someone walks through a room that has been recently sprayed with Lysol, and then I come in contact with them, I can still smell it.
 equals        (only not in pumpkin form...you get the gist)

So I go grocery shopping today.  Nothing big, but we were out of diapers and decided a 'junk food movie party' was in order this evening...can we just say, I blew my diet in one meal!

I get a text from my hubby that I left just in time.  Code Brown!

Fast forward a few hours, grocery shopping done, dinner & movie in progress...we have another code brown (thank you sweet potatoes).  I took the little man to his room and changed him.  About half way through changing him, I start sniffing.  I don't mean sniff sniff...I mean walking around the room all OCD sniffing everywhere trying to figure out where this horrible smell is coming from.  Then suddenly I could taste it...LYSOL!    *hiss & shy away from the smell*  I yell for my hubby...ask if he sprayed something in the room...he said no. I continue to sniff...and sniff...and sniff...and finally realize my face is inches away from "boy parts" and the smell is insanely strong.

I take the boy, donning a onesie and diaper only out to the family room and say "Dude...its his nutssssssssss!  Did you put something on his nuts?!?"  You would have thought I had 3 heads!!  Then he says "No, but I sprayed the changing pad with Lysol after his code brown."

Forget the why.  I don't know why.  I'm fairly certain he explained it but I was already on my way to the nursery to get the baby bath tub.  I could smell the Lysol all over the baby who had just been laying on the tainted changing pad.  Pad cover=washing machine...baby=bath.

So Lysol smell gone...fresh clean baby with a super cute mohawk sitting by my side and half the movie over...I decided to blog rather than try to catch up on humans/aliens and some planet called 51.
Ack.

I can still taste the Lysol.  I think I need to bathe my mouth.

One of those days...

When you've known your significant other as long as I have, and are as close as we are...you hit a point where you can have an entire conversation without ever opening your mouth.  Last night, the look I shot my hubby when he got home, answered his question, "How was your day?" without me ever saying a word.

So let me tell you how my day was.

It started with an argument with the corp office of my bug spraying company.  (We don't have bugs...I want to keep it that way.  I hate creepy crawlies!)  I called them last week to let them know that my service for this month needed to be in the morning because my afternoons are crazy busy lately.  They scheduled me for a noon-5pm slot.
I get a voicemail on Sunday from the service tech saying he can't make it in the morning and he will be here early afternoon on Monday.  That's great except I WON'T BE HERE!  He didn't leave a number to reach him (even better) so I had to call corp to tell them to hunt him down to tell him that if he was switching it to PM he needed to be here between certain hours.  The guy at corp argued with me that they don't set official times.  Well you should tell the lady in scheduling that!  And that's fine but my kid isn't missing school for the bug guy to come, so I flat out won't be here when its time to take her to school.
He finally agreed to let the tech know.

Next was my trip to the grocery.  Now mind you...we're in the midst of the "4 month wakeful".  Little man is sleeping like crap.  I'm sleeping like crap.  My birth control is wreaking havoc with my hormones and giving me migraines which always seem to hit at night when little man IS sleeping...so I'm running on negative 18.12.6 hours of sleep or some multiple of that!  You could say I'm bitchier than normal (scary, I know!).

I get there and the lot is like...freakin FULL except the handicapped spots which I have enough decency not to park in as I am only handicapped in the unable to function without sleep way...not so much in the walking way (unless you count being a klutz).  Plus don't even get me started on my feelings about non-handicapped people claiming to be handicapped (flash back to the Spring Sing post, anyone?!?)  Oh and total side track...I see that guy all the time in town.  I have never once seen him with a walker, cane, or even a limp and his vehicle does not have a handicapped tag or sticker...but I frequently see him in the middle of the day sitting on the sidewalk with an open case of beer so I'm going with...falling down drunk and hurting yourself does NOT make you handicapped.  Yeah I could be wrong, but TS!

So back to the story.  YES, I park in the "new and expectant mothers" spot anytime I have little man and the rest of my brood with me.  I have only, in 2 years of shopping there, seen one other woman park there with her big ole belly...and regardless, I'm a fairly new mother with a total of 4 kids.  Judge away, I'm not going to stop parking there just yet.  But these spaces were even taken up!!!  Damn.  I'm in a rush to get home before the bug guy's 2pm time slot I gave them...little guy is fussy, now I get to park in no man's land.

So of course, I park like 5 spots away from the new/expectant spot and in the time it takes me to collect my list, collect my money, collect my thoughts & keys and get moving-the spaces between me and that spot have opened up.  Le Sigh!  I get out of the car and see a 200 yr old man sitting in his pick up in the new/expectant mother parking space.  He has a handicapped tag hanging from his mirror.  Never mind that handicapped get closer spaces than mothers (as they SHOULD...no complaints there) but this guy has completely ignored the handicapped spaces and parked in MY spot!!  GRRRR!  Just as I'm getting little man and his 100 lb car seat out, an old woman walks up to the passenger door of the truck.  She literally GLARED at me as I lugged Moose & seat out of the car and grunted.  GLARED...AT ME!!  Like my grunting was irritating her.  It just hit me wrong.

I looked up and smiled and said (super enthusiastically), "Oh my God!  Congratulations!!"

She looked confused and said, "What's that?"
I pointed to the sign and said, "I said Congratulations!  It's not ever day someone your age decides to start a family.  You must be very excited for the stork to come!"

She didn't see any humor in it.  But I did.  I hit the lock button on my car and started for the door.  She turned to me and said "I'm handicapped!"  I looked back and said "And apparently your husband can't read!  Rough life!"

Ok.  Flame me if you want.  It was rude.  I claim she started it by glaring at me.

So groceries done, pulling in the drive way...guess who's there!
  You got it!!  The bug guy!
I get out of my car.  Mentally grumbling that I need time to get the house opened up, the dog locked outside, the groceries in...all of which is going to be rushed or have to wait now...OH and mind you, its 1:36pm.

He actually had the nerve to tell me he'd been waiting for almost 20 minutes.  I raised an eyebrow and just calmly said, "Wow, imagine how long you would have been waiting if I hadn't gotten here until 2pm like this was scheduled for!"

Unlock the door.  Put baby in car seat on floor.  Grab dog and lock her outside.  Rush back to front door.  Pick up baby.  Let bug guy in.  Take baby in car seat to front porch so as not to breathe the spray fumes.  Get groceries...really?  Is there a place for me to bang my head now...or should I wait?

Don't worry.  It gets better.  The story that is, not my day!

On the last bag of groceries, I grabbed little guy and his car seat in my left hand.  Groceries in right.  As I can into the kitchen the grocery bag...plastic...ripped.  NO it couldn't be the bag of bread.  It was the bag of jars of spaghetti sauce!  OH YES!  EFFING AWESOME!  So one hits the ground JUST right...and off pops the lid.  A shower of spaghetti sauce spatters my kitchen.

Floor.
Walls.
CEILING?!?!? SON OF A ...!!!

Wait...I have visual aids!!

It's awesome, isn't it?!?!?

So what do I do?  In my mad rush, with the baby wanting a bottle and the bug guy taking his time and peanut gallerying his way through the house...I clean it up of course!  Which resulted in this:

See those streaks...Yeah... I used Clorox Clean up...WITH BLEACH!!!

This is where I bang my head on the wall.

Deep breaths.  Count to something...

Not working!

What's next, Oh the bug guy is done.  Sweet relief I can at least have my house to myself (well and Moose, and the dog, and the cat, but close enough!)  I had a slew of papers to sign, we cancelled the spray service over winter so I was re-upping my contract with them.  As I'm signing the cancellation agreement, I glance up at the tech who is rambling on a million miles an hour about the terms & services and realize that though he was reciting everything as it should be, he was really focused quite solidly on my cleavage.

Without even thinking twice, I stood up straight, snapped my fingers in his face and said "HEY!  Yes, they're real.  Yes, they're phenomenal.  Yes, if my husband saw you gawking at them, he'd punch you in the face!  FOCUS BUDDY!"  

He wrapped up the paper signing very quickly and without even looking me in the face again!  My floor is also  phenomenal, apparently.

I have to admit that the rest of the day went OK, not great.  A small run in with a bee and some homework troubles.  Nothing we couldn't handle.  So the look my husband got when he asked how my day was...the look of, Don't Even Freakin Ask!  said all that I needed to say and more.  He never did get the fill in on everything...bet he will laugh when he reads this.

Busy Busy Busy!

Life has been NUTS!
*Gigglesnort* Inside joke.

Photo shoots are piling up on top of one another!
Spring is here so the kiddos have tons going on.  Hubby is working more, YAY OVERTIME!
And to top it all off, I'm trying desperately to make time to keep working on boxing stuff up for our big impending move...still not official.

This weekend was full of fun.  Little man decided he LOVES rice cereal....IF it has fruit or juice mixed into it.  It seems like every day he learns how to do something new.  Today he realized he could unhook and kick off the toy bar on his swing.  He spent some time with his "cousin" Caleb this past weekend...their interaction was great!  Caleb was all about grabbing onto Moose who really just wanted to stare at Caleb and keep his distance.

We learned that 3 babies all under 6 months, all screaming at the same time, is a good reason to be glad that we're done having kids!  Yeah it was chaos here for a while!
We also learned that Little man doesn't like sharing his mama!  3 hours of photoshoots in a row was too long for me to be gone from him (even if it was just the other room) especially if I was hanging out with other babies.  Don't worry Moose...you're the only little man for me!

Guess I really have nothing interesting to report.
Here are some pics from this weekend's work:

Its not your kid...its you!

I sat at a restaurant with my 4 kids the other day.  (Oh wait...let me qualify that so stalkers don't get their panties in a bundle...my 3 step kids who I care for 24/7/365 and my son.  3+1=4 whatever.)

So I sat at a restaurant the other day waiting for my husband and my parents to join us; and this lady I didn't know came up to me and told me "Your children are SO well behaved!  I am just so impressed!  Such wonderful young ladies, and such a precious little gentleman!"
I get that alot.  It was actually the 3rd time since Sunday morning, that I have been told that.  As always I beemed and said thank you, and the girls also said thank you (without prompting).  I know how well behaved they are.  But I rarely think about it much.  I'm always a little caught off guard when someone compliments them or us.  I often think 'What?  Did you expect them to dance on the tables and knock over waitresses?'

They're little angels!  I love this pic and totally can see their faces sitting there, praying and playing with bunnies...well, most of the time!

About that time, in walked a young couple.  Probably mid to late 20s, with a little girl, probably around 4.  They sat down and ordered drinks.  They ordered a milk for the little girl who INSTANTLY went into a fit, screaming "I HATE MILK!!!" and get this...POUNDING on the table with her fists!  POUNDING!  I don't honestly know who had a bigger look of shock on their face, the waitress, me or my kids!  The mother immediately said "Ok, Ok sweety!  You don't have to have milk.  What do you want?"

I turned around and went back to what I was doing.  Not another 5 minutes later we hear the father, "Knock it off!  I said...Knock it OFF!"  I looked over my shoulder and saw the little girl laying down on the booth next to her dad and KICKING HIM!  KICKING HIM!! K I C K I N G   H I M!!!  He said knock it off a few times and then went back to his Homes & Lands magazine & margarita and let her continue doing it while he pretended to ignore her.

I shook my head and turned back around again.  My 5 yr old (ever the voice of reason and rarely quiet about her opinions) says "What is wrong with that dad?  He should make that kid behave!"

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!  The 5 year old called it!  I often used to say that kids who behaved like that were the reason I wanted my tubes tied.  When I became a stepmom to 3 kids, I had no idea what all was involved in parenting...my cat had been easy to raise!
My kids are phenomenally behaved...but that wasn't always the case.  It takes a team effort to raise kids the right way; to be respectful of people and things, to be polite, to act appropriately for different types of social situations.  There was no team in the case of my step kids.  There were divided fronts.  Its hard to teach kids to behave when they hear "At mommy's house, there are no rules like at daddy's" or "You don't have to listen to stepmom, she's not your real parent".

It took time and space and patients and a kick ass counselor and a few awesome parenting books to get to where we are now.  But I do have to look at parents like the ones engrossed in their cocktails and failing miserably at not only parenting and teaching thier child how to behave but also failing miserably at making the child feel loved and appreciated because they're ignoring her; and wonder what the hell they're thinking!!

It's not the kids.  Well...I mean it IS the kids but it's not the kids' fault completely.  Parents need to step up and take control again. What happened to pleases and thank yous and sitting like a lady and asking the waitress nicely for more juice rather than just announcing that yours is empty?  Its an embarrassing statement about our generation.

Patooey!

That's the word I expected to see pop up in a though bubble above my son's head lastnight!
Our 1st attempt at rice cereal, as directed by our doctor at our 4 mo check up today...was a major fail in the eating sense, but a big success as far as making memories!
Moose is hungry all the time!  He was up to eating 5-6 oz of formula every 45 minutes to hour and a half!  At night he would go 2 hours between bottles, maybe 3 if he was REALLY sleeping soundly.

You do the math, that's WAY over the recommended 28-36oz/day!  He's not a chunker though!  Only 50th percentile for weight!  He's also on lactose and soy protein free formula (Alimentum) which is freakin expensive!  We were going through a jar of it every 2 days!   Do the math on THAT...that's $320/mo in formula IF I had $5 Similac checks and IF I remember to take them to the store with me.  UGH!  I just felt palpitations thinking about how much we've spent in 4 months on formula!

We started thickening his bottles a week ago with lactose and soy protein free rice cereal (Earth's Best) and he realy likes it.  That bumped his daily feedings to 6 oz every 3 hours and at night we were getting about 4 hours between bottles.  The doc said that its still way too much formula so its time to start feeding solids.  He's obviously hungry.  She said some babies just process formula faster than others.  He must be one of those babies!  So last night we tried rice cereal for the first time...here's how it went:

Daddy carried the little man to the kitchen for his big meal:

Moose definitely wasn't sure if he liked the idea of a spoon in his face:

Daddy fed him the 1st bite:

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnd...We HATE it!

I think he would prefer to go straight to steak, maybe baked beans (he seemed to like the little bit of juice from baked beans I gave him yesterday)...OOOH or Doritos!  Yeah...somehow "go ahead and start him on rice cereal" translated in my head to "sure!  Go ahead and rub your finger in the Doritos cheese powder and let him suck on that!"

Such is the life of a mother who refuses to follow the rules.  Guess we'll try the rice cereal again...wonder how that would taste with a swirl of mac & cheese sauce in it....

My inner Gypsy is a Bimbo!

I posted lastnight about my wonderful rain pouring down, music blasting, windows open non-mom moment.  I maintain it was fantastic!

This morning I get a text from my husband about 3 minutes after he left for work.  "You left the passenger side window open, Ms. I-gotta-feel-the-rain!"

SHIT! 

It stormed here off and on ALL NIGHT!  The car...was parked outside!  Thank God for Honda Elements and their plastic floors and neoprene seats!  By the time he got to work, it was already partly dry.
I'm such an idiot!

I check and double check to make sure all the doors and windows of the house are closed up and locked every night, I check and double check to make sure the car alarms are set ever night.  I SWEAR I thought both windows rolled up! 

We got a good laugh out of it, but I assured him, my inner gypsy will keep her windows rolled up in future rain storms.

My gypsy was callin'

Some women go out to clubs and dance, some go to bars and drink, some go to book clubs and other meetings...all in an attempt to have some "me time".

I'm not like some women. 
The road is my "me time".

Tonight, she was at her best.

After dinner out with my 'rents, my hubby took the kids and headed home.  I hit Walgreens for some formula, a magazine, and a Dingo bone for the dog...she loves those.  The ultimate domestic shopping trip.

But when I got in the car to head home the great wide open gave me all it had to give.  I hit the west side of town and the very last street light, and with my windows wide open, cranked the stereo just loud enough to risk blowing the speakers.  The subs pounded, the music roared, the wind whipped around as it can only do when all the windows are down...and then the rain cut loose.  POURING down as hard as it could.  I drove into it 55 (cuz I NEVER speed...yeah...right), singing at the top of my lungs!  The smell of fresh rain, cliche but perfect Boston's "More Than A Feelin" (nothing says freedom like 80's rock...sorry), and purple streaks of lightening slamming down ahead of me to the west.

My gypsy called...No...she screamed!  My husband is a lucky man tonight...it was hard not to keep driving!

When he gets in the car tomorrow morning, the seat might be a bit wet from the rain :)  He'll live.


Times like this I realize how much I love my family and much I have given into the domestic life...but that thunder is still out there, rolling...I see a road trip in my near future...

"He used a Sharpie!!"

I can just picture having to say those words to my husband in the future.

So it started.  While being changed after his bath today, my little man realized that he can reach down and grab his 'junk'.  Yes, his "JUNK" ... boy parts ... whatever you want to call it.
Grab it.
Annnnnnnnnnd he thinks it's HYSTERICAL!  I grabs or smacks at it, then laughs!  I was horrified!  And in the split second it took my brain to register what he was doing, all I could hear from somewhere in the recesses of my TV riddled little mind was,

"TING TING!  DADDY...LOOK AT MY TING TING!"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9DC3xNPwLe8

If you just read past that link...go watch it, then come back and read the rest!


So I stood staring, not fully registering what he was doing, until suddenly the Jo Koy saying "Oh God!  He ripped it off!"  Popped into my head.  I threw the diaper on him faster than any diaper has ever been strapped to a baby in the history of the world.  Then I broke out into hysterical laughter! 
We're in big trouble!  Not only is the kid so well endowed that the nurse who assisted in the delivery felt the need to say "Whoa!" and point out his size...but he's obsessed with it already! 

"Hey!  Lets have a boy!" 

Famous last words!

I swear this child is going to make me old way before my time!

Mother of the year = Me!

Getting 6 people out of the house on any given day can be, challenging (at best).  Normally we have few if any issues.  The girls move smoothly through their morning routines, I get the baby ready, and on weekends the hubby makes breakfast for everyone and cleans up while I'm getting ready.

This morning, somehow, wires got crossed.  While I was in the process of packing the diaper bag, I saw my husband grab the ziplock that usually contains the nipples and a bink, and throw it in the bag.  I grabbed the rest of the things that we needed, bottle, formula, rice cereal, etc and we were gone.  We no more sat down at church for Easter service and little man started fussing.  I grabbed the bottle, mixed in the formula and nursery water, and went for the ziplock...no nipple.  Uh....no nipple?  NO NIPPLE?!?!  FRICK! 

I looked at my husband, "Did you pack a nipple?"  He smirked...very funny!
I dug through the entire bag.  NO NIPPLES!

By now, little man was just about to let loose a roar as the band got on stage to begin worship.  I threw my hands up in the air, "I gotta go!"

I grabbed the diaper bag, little man and headed for the door.
I was almost out of the building when a woman I know asked where I was going.  I explained the dilema and she said she had a bottle I could use.  YAY!  She goes to the counter and gets the bottle they use to collect coins for the crisis pregnancy center.  COLLECT COINS. 
EWWWWWW!  Is she kidding?!?!  I kindly thanked her and said that I thought I might have a nipple in the car but I appreciate her offer.

I shuddered on my way to the car! 

By the time I got to the store, Moose was screaming.  Poor little guy!  He was so hungry.  All I could think was 'Mother of the year!  Dragging a screaming kid through a store looking for a nipple which is kind of an important part of ANY bottle!  I cant believe I forgot that!'

Once back at the church and walking with a babe in arms sucking furiously at his bottle, I was able to regroup but the calm of the day was shot.
ON the way home the kids were wound up.  Little man was finally sleeping.  Husband and I were talking about the upcoming move.  And without even thinking I yelled,
 "LOOK!  SOMEONE RAN OVER THE EASTER BUNNY!!"  Oh yeah!  Dead rabbit on the side of the road!  I lost it.  I laughed so hard tears ran down my face. MOTHER OF THE YEAR!

2 of the kids had a look of shock on their faces.  Little man was sleeping.  The last child said, "You have GOT to be kidding me!"  Then at once they all began laughing together. 
Ah how far we have come from children who cried if you looked at them the wrong way! 

Our dinner was beautiful and enjoying the company of my in laws was a pleasure.  My parents unfortunately didn't make it out, but who can blame them after a 15 hour drive!

Easter went off with only minor hitches, and a slightly flattened bunny.  Thank God!

I married the right man

I have had a crazy 2 weeks.  Prepping for and attending a birthing event; which has already produced 4 photo shoots (in under a week!); getting the ball rolling on the final run of my novel before it is released; working on setting up a new photo studio with all new equipment; and doing a handful of tattoos over this weekend to boot!  OH and planning the 1st holiday that I'm hosting at my house; Easter.

You could say its been chaotic!

Last night my husband cooked me an amazing steak dinner.  I love that man, he spoils me.  This morning he got up with little man and let me sleep in, as is usually the case on weekends.  When I woke, he had steak and eggs ready for me for breakfast, my house cleaned, the dishes loaded and get this-LOADED MY WAY (yeah-he didn't put down the flippy thing! YAY!).  He also had the grocery list made up for me and the prescription refills already called into the pharmacy!

Gotta love a man who takes some initiative and helps out!  It's really the little things that make a big difference in your day.  I could have done without the house cleaning and the grocery list, and even the breakfast.  The fact that after reading my blog, he actually made a point to leave the flippy thing up, reminds me of why I love this man.  He cares about the little things.  I pointed out to him that he had not loaded dishes his normal way.  At 1st he sassed me; saying, "I would hate to stop the steak knives from taking over the butter knives' turf!"  Very funny.  But then he said, "If it makes it a little easier for you to do dishes with them loaded this way, I don't mind doing that.  Whatever makes youre life easier is cool with me."

Almost brought a tear to my eye.  Over flippin dishes! 
I hope every day that my single friends will find someone like my husband.  Someone who cares about doing those little things for them.  I'm really truly blessed!  I have a husband who treats me like I walk on water; kids who are the talk of every party and a constant source of compliments from both people we know as well as strangers; a home full of love and peace and trust...I really couldn't ask for more.  (Maybe a bigger house but we're working on that!)

Its GOOD Friday...not SPRING Friday!

If I hear one more person say today is "Spring Friday" I'm going to lose it!

I don't care if I hurt your feelings or belittle your beliefs.  You obviously don't care if you do that to me!  Ooooooooooooh!  But what about the Muslims and the Jews and the Pagans?  What about them?  Are they not off work today?  Are they not planning to enjoy the beautiful spring weather?  And while we're at it do they not enjoy December 25th with their families?  IT'S FREAKIN CHRISTMAS.  I don't care what you label it, I don't care what you tell the Walmart check out girls they have to say when people leave..."happy holidays!"  I don't care what your religious beliefs are...that day is a holiday because the Christian people who formed this country believed it (and today) to be special days and said we should all take the day off and enjoy the time to reflect on it.  So if you don't share Christian beliefs, then don't reflect on it but don't try to take it and turn it into some political nonsense because it's NOT.

"I am so sick of this self-help, 12-step, left over hippy generation bullshit!"

This country was formed by God fearing men.  OH MY!  She said MEN, not MEN & WOMEN.  Damn right I did.  The women had little if anything to do with the actual forming of this country that so many of us claim to love. 

It is what it is, you can't rewrite history you communist asses...the holocaust happened and America was formed by great men, who had great women by their sides at home (Abigail Adams is a favorite of mine) but not by their side in the halls of Washington or at their offices.

Men who believed in a Christian God.  Men who believed Jesus Christ died for their sins.

Men who wrote the pledge of allegience and are rolling over in their graves because some individuals have decided that we have to be so concerned with everyone's feelings that suddenly we're no longer concerned with Christian's feelings or the history of what this nation was built on.

You weren't forced to come live in a country based on those beliefs.  And don't give me any bullshit about how your ancestors were brought here as slaves...African American, Irish, Chinese...tons of people were...no one is holding you here against your will.  If you have an issue with being here, GO SOMEWHERE ELSE!  I can name at least 3 countries within spitting distance of here who not only do not subscribe to the Christian belief system or have a history in it, but are pretty against it!  Go there!  Go back to where your enslaved ancestors were from. 

No one is asking you to give your life to Christ.  No one is forcing you to change your beliefs.  But today is GOOD FRIDAY...and December 25th is CHRISTMAS.  GET THE HELL OVER IT, YOU WHINEY BABIES!

Aren't I a shining example of Christian tolerance and agape love? Ya know what, its about time we stand up for ourselves and stop turning the other cheek. Guess you can say I'm a fan of the Old Testament God who would have smited those who think they can just walk all over my religion and expect us to tread lightly around theirs.



If you can't accept that some of the holidays you all sit on your asses and enjoy not working are based in Christian beliefs, THEN GO TO WORK.  Trust us.  Not a single Christian will sit home and shed a tear because you're sitting behind your desk punching numbers while we're at home celebrating the life & death of our savior.

CAN I GET AN 'AMEN'?!!?!

New Give-Away Rules & Novel Published

This morning I wrote:

So...
I wrote a novel.
Yes. Because I don't have enough to do with running a photography business, learning to tattoo, being a full time mom to 4 kids all under the age of 10, and running my household.
It's bad ass, if I may say so myself!
It was slotted to be released in October of 2009 but because of complications with my little belly Moose, I had to push off the drop date.

I just got off the phone with my NEW publisher (I loathed the guy who was incharge of my account with the old publisher!) and the book is copyrighted, the ISBN number is assigned, and they emailed me the barcode to attach to the cover image for final printing! AAIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!
More info, some snippets from the novel, and extra fun stuff about it to come! Should be in all major book chains and available online at my publisher and amazon.com by end of May!!!!

The giveaway was going to be based on a vote for who had the best psycho ex story.

I got an email from a reader.  She had a very valid point.  Not everyone has a psycho ex (some of you are lucky).  And while the novel was LOOSELY inspired by psycho exes (not the one who thinks she inspired it though...sorry snuffleupagus, save your narcissism for your bathroom mirror) it is not all about psycho exes so here is the new scoop for the give away:

Comment on this post with your favorite author and book.
When the novel releases, I will do a drawing.  2 readers will get a copy of the novel.

You're right my deary...this is more fair.  Thank you for pointing out the error of my excitement this morning!