Archive for the ‘shit’ Category

i hate 2 years old… the age. 2.

not my kid who is 2 and some change. i don’t hate him… i hate his current age.

and yes, when i say “hate,” i mean HATE. LOATHE. DISTAIN.

i hear that 3 is worse than 2… 4 is worse than 3… 5 is worse than 4, etc.

so ultimately, you people are telling me i’m screwed.

super.

thanks.

starting to think i made the wrong decision in having my IUD removed.

there are bruises on my body from where my son pummels into me as though he’s a friggin running back for the NFL. there are scratches from where he’s broken my skin while clawing at my face because he doesn’t want to go down for a nap. my iphone is THIS CLOSE to being entirely busted and the screen of my macbook has more footprints on it than i can count. there are pinch marks, slaps and the very rare teeth mark on my arms from when he chooses to bite me because i have not given him fruit snacks for breakfast…

or a popsicle.

FOR BREAKFAST.

today, i want to give up.

there, i said it.

i’ve done the dishes, taken care of jackson, read to jackson, played with jackson, fed him breakfast and lunch, changed however many diapers (i really need to get on the potty-training train b/c we go thru too many damn diapers), swiffered up an amount of dog hair that makes me gag, run errands b/c jackson was driving me crazy and i figured the next best thing would be to literally drive in the hopes of calming down his crazy… and i’ve done 2 loads of laundry.

it’s 1:13 pm.

my nemesis is currently down for a nap but has been sleeping for MAYBE an hour + which is NOT typical for him and i’m selfish ya’ll.

I NEED THOSE 2 HOURS.

i need them so that i can endure the remainder of the day… the whining, the pouting, the unsatisfactory groans he spews my way when i think he’s asking for one toy when he really wants something entirely different… the fighting to get him to eat SOMETHING that perhaps contains a bit of protein.

when i began today, my mantra was “just make it to wednesday…”

because wednesday i road trip it to NYC with some blog friends to meet up with another blog friend to go to a taping of the daily show with jon stewart.

and yeah, i’m stoked about the trip, which is why my mantra this morning was, “just make it to wednesday…”

but i gotta be honest, right now, my mantra is “just make it til daddy comes home from work.”

and as sick and twisted as it sounds, i have caught myself at times today, with a sly, devilish grin on my face when i think of what paul’s day will be like on wednesday.

jackson… JACKSON for the day… the WHOLE day… morning til whenever i get back… just him and the maniac magoo and laundry and tantrums and dog hair and dishes and dinner on the table when i return…

IF i return.

**********

bring on the RANTS. give me your best bitching & let’s bond over this bullshit.

ok, so i’m on the porch of my friend’s new home, facing the water, sipping coffee… and sweating like a pig because they are still getting air conditioners installed. it’s a GREAT home and totally reminded me of our home in jacksonville that i miss so desperately. i think i love this home and i’m so excited for my friend because i know she will truly make it THEIR HOME.

our first house was a train wreck when we moved in it. seriously, it looked as though a train had wrecked inside of the house. paul thought i was nuts (duh!!!) and i was all “oh look at the potential… we could paint this… and knock out this wall… and landscape here…” and paul was all ::WONKY EYE:: “are you fucking kidding me?!?” but over time, we made it our own and redid every single room.

so, i’m on my friend’s porch, dripping with under-the-boob-sweat, and our little men are playing together and scaring the family cat and my friend and i start discussing potty training. her little boy is 2 and some change and jackson just turned 2 at the end of april and apparently once you hit the 2 year mark, you start talking potty shit.

we’re not “training” like reading books and going sans diaper and sticker charting and big boy underpants, yet… jackson has a potty that he likes and he sits on it when either paul or i are on our toilet. jackson LOVES to give you toilet paper and LOVES to flush. cuz ya know, that’s a very satisfying feeling, to flush the toilet and watch the contents go down the drain.

my friend’s potty “training” is similar as of now, and this summer, she plans to tackle it a little more strategically. so yay for that.

at this point in our convo, she tells me that she has a friend who potty trained her 18 month old. cool. groovy. major props. i couldn’t do it… but i applaud you, my friend’s friend.

she then asks me the question that caused me to nearly drop my coffee cup…

“have you heard of those moms who potty train their infants? like their baby-babies?”

my silence and eyes popping out of my sockets cued her to continue… and she told me of someone she knew who had informed her of how she had her baby (BABY) potty trained at 4 months of age.

WHUT THE WHUT WHUT?!?!??!

my friend, not at all surprised by my surprise, goes into explicit yet informative detail about how her friend had picked up on cues and facial expressions her baby would make that were indicative of an oncoming bowel movement.

ok, i’m with ya… nodding head… recalling jackson’s scrunched up face and grunts…

my friend then tells me that after witnessing those cues from her baby, the mother then held her 4 month old over the toilet and that was how the child was potty trained.

WHUT THE WHUT WHUT?!!?!

so THEN my friend tells me that after her friend relayed this info to her, she started looking info up and found out that blossom… you remember blossom… the tv show… teenage chick who wore the denim hat with the big ass flower on it all the time… had a best friend named six… ok, i’m getting off track. ok, well, blossom apparently did this with her baby(ies) i don’t know how many children blossom has… AND since no underwear is made to fit infants (BECAUSE THEY’RE USUALLY IN DIAPERS) she made loin cloths for her baby(ies) in lieu of underwear.

alright, so if blossom can do this, i’m totally trying it out with our next kid, because then i figure by the time that kid is crawling, having been totally potty trained by 4 months of age via loin cloth underwear, i can train him/her to uncork a bottle of wine… or at the very least, start the coffee brewing in the early morning hours.

**********

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i have this inability to poop while on vacation.

i mean, if i ABSOLUTELY CANNOT contain the contents within my bowels, cramp up and begin to perspire, then fine, i’ll do what needs to be done.

but in the words of Bartelby, the Scrivener, “i would prefer not to.”

paul called me a “home-base shitter” the other night as we were regaling tales about this awesomely raw, newly married couple we met while in the dominican.

earlier that afternoon, as we lounged in the pool, buzzed with happiness that comes only with true relaxation and some kind of rum drink served in a hallowed-out coconut, our new friends made it known to us that they had to abort our sanctuary and continue conversation later…

“honey,” our friend said to his bride of only 8 days, “we better go, cuz i’m starting to get the goosebumps.”

dude had the rheas… and i don’t mean gonor.

suffice to say, our vacation was spectacular, and as soon as i take a shit and begin sifting through laundry and uploading pictures, i’ll update more.

for now, i’ll leave you with the “pooping statues” that reside in the courtyard of the resort and MOCKED ME DAILY.

MONTHS AGO…

Me: “OK, I’ll be better about throwing away my sweet & low packets post morning coffee consumption, if you actually dispose of the food you dump into the sink.”

Paul: “Deal.”

OVER TIME…

Me: “Friendly reminder… food in sink that you DON’T put down the disposal makes me gag. I’ve thrown away my sweet & lows. Jump on it Tonto.”

Paul: “K, sorry.”

TODAY…

Me: calls Paul at work. “OK, so you know those families who have a cussing jar, and each time someone cusses, they put a dollar in the jar?”

Paul: “Yeah.”

Me: “So, I have an idea for a new house rule… each time I find food in the sink that has NOT gone down the disposal, you’ll owe me a bottle of wine.”

Paul: …………

Me: “Cuz I just went in the kitchen to make Jackson’s lunch, and upon going to wash my hands, I found Kashi remnants, 1/2 of a pretzel stick, and a gnarled banana. It nearly made me wretch.”

Paul: “Sorry.”

Me: “So, what say ye of said house rule?”

Paul: “OK.”

Me: “Cool. So, no hard feelings, I’ll just text you each time this happens and hopefully over time you’ll get to the point where you’re buying me bottles of wine NOT because you have left food in the sink without disposing of it, but because you just love me.”

Paul: “Yup. Sorry.”

Me: “OK. I love you. Bye.”

Paul: “I love you too. Bye.”

And…….. SCENE.

my parents gave us an espresso machine for christmas, which is VERY APPRECIATED as it was MUCH NEEDED in our household. the problem is that paul is classically trained in the operation of the espresso machine (because he read the manual) and i am not (because i don’t read instructions… ever.)

i just attempted to make my first mocha with a double shot of espresso. and i failed. kind of. what i am now drinking does contain chocolate syrup and two + shots of espresso because i overflowed, so i will most likely have the caffeine jitters by the time i hit “publish” on this post.

i should’ve just gotten in the car and gone to starbucks.

though i have what i would call a distinct NEED for coffee (paul would most likely call it an obsession), i am in particular NEED of caffeine to run through my veins at this distinct moment on this distinct monday for the following reasons…

- the weekend didn’t work out as we had intended. originally, paul and i were going to go away and ski for the weekend. i bailed. why? because i didn’t want to pack yet another suitcase. i’ve been living out of suitcases since november and the thought of packing another one and prepping just for a short weekend getaway gave me a panic attack and made me consider cutting my wrists (the incorrect way, don’t worry.)

- instead of going to bed early on friday night to catch up on the sleep that i have not been getting over the last 2 months, i stayed up til 1 am with my husband, drinking beer and watching conan’s last show. paul and i took a trip to nyc a few years ago and stood in line to be audience members in one of conan’s shows, but we honestly weren’t HUGE conan fans. yeah, what NBC is doing is totally dick and jay leno is a douche, but we knew that already.

- the magoo ended up spewing liquid out of both ends of his body because he was fed expired hummus (the individual who fed said expired hummus to the magoo shall remain nameless.) needless to say, this made things very NOT fun for saturday evening and into sunday. multiple loads of puke and diarrhea laundry is not my idea of a good time. in addition to the extra laundry, a horrendous diaper rash now festers on my son’s bum.

- i’ve been contacted with regards to a potentially STABLE freelancing gig as a blogger, and i’m sweating bullets over it because it could be ABSOLUTELY AWESOME. those of you who blog, freelance, or just dream of “working” while sitting on your couch, not wearing a bra and drinking a crappy mocha know what i mean. i can say no more about this potential opportunity because my palms are already dripping with sweat and i don’t want to short-circuit my keyboard. also, i could jinx it.

- i’m in the midst of my anxiety meds being adjusted, which is never an easy experience. regardless of what you may take medication for, adjusting any bit of it, whether it’s the dosage or switching to an entirely different drug, is so hard to do. this is why they call it “chemistry” and why i came THIS CLOSE to failing it in high school. every teeny milligram, even part of a milligram of the medication needs to be JUST RIGHT in order for it to balance out what is currently imbalanced in mah head. this process, when it works, can take up to weeks to see “improvement.” it’s not a fun process for me or for those around me, cuz they never know when i’m goina go all wack-a-doo on their asses… or just not be able to get out of bed.

- on a similar note, i’m getting to spend countless hours each day finding a shrink who takes my insurance. currently there are none within a 60 mile radius of where we live. that’s the bad news. the good news is that my family practitioner (who i saw last week) is helping me as much as possible to use her resources to find me someone to purge my shit on.

- this maryland weather is so messed up and it’s messing with mah head. i need to see the sun. i NEED to. it can be cold as hell out (well, hell supposedly isn’t cold… i’ll report back once i learn for sure) point being, as long as i can see sunshine, i’m good. lately, if the sun peaks out here, it lasts for about 25 minutes and then it’s gone for 25 days. not so good.

- the magoo bed/crib situation is still sucking. this of course is unless paul is home, and then all is well with the world. the magoo sleeps 2 + hours, wakes up happy as a clam, and doesn’t make me absolutely distain toddlerville. when paul is not home, we have what i now refer to as the magoo-monster. this does NOT make for good nap times, which does NOT make for fun afternoons and makes me absolutely loathe toddlerville and all that comes with it. the magoo-monster is manipulating and playing the favorite parent game.

so those are my reasons for needing an abundance of caffeine. i have now consumed 85% of my mocha and all i have left is chocolate syrup.

just hook me up to an IV next time.

i’m a strategist when it comes to parking lots. when galavanting around this lovely town of annapolis in my itty bitty VW hatchback (complete with “peace and love” bumper sticker), i park with an agenda.

my car becomes a puzzle piece and it must fit juuuuuuuuust right.

when turning into a grocery store parking lot, i always find a spot near the grocery cart puter-awayer if not directly next to it. this way i can get the magoo settled in the car, load my loot in the car and then pop my cart over in the puter-awayer within a super short amount of time.

it’s quite remarkable actually, and i do commend my own timeliness.

when driving into a mall parking lot, i hunt for a parking spot that does not have another vehicle next to it. this way i can flip out the magoo’s stroller, plop magoo in said stroller, snag the diaper bag and any items i may be returning with maximum space around me and not fearing that i will scratch anyone else’s automobile.

when driving to a restaurant… lately this has just been to panera as panera is currently the meca for all parents during lunch time, i park next to a garbage can. this is because, like my husband, i too carry my beverage (let’s just say a sierra mist) to my car for a few final sips… but unlike my husband, i do not like beverages in my car. the spill factor is too much for me to handle when driving while jackson is throwing toys for me to pick up and give back to him. so i get my final few sips in and then toss my beverage in the trash can instead of leaving it on the ground next to the wheel of someone else’s car.

point being, i park with a purpose.

today, post-panera-lunching with jackson, we scoot through the parking lot to drop off a prescription to be filled (since i saw my doc yesterday and am addressing my grief and awesome anxiety). since i had no groceries to purchase, i did NOT park with my typical intentions and therefore parked like every other non-wackadoo human being on the face of the planet.

i parked wherever there was an empty spot.

it is when i am bent over 1/2 in the backseat of my car, one leg in the car and one leg out of the car, unbuckling the magoo from his car seat that this elderly woman CLOSES MY CAR DOOR ON MY LEG.

“excuse me,” i said to her as she attempted to squeeze in between my now nearly closed car door and her diagonally parked cadillac.

she says nothing.

dressed in what looks to be her sunday best for a trip to the grocery store, cranberry colored winter coat to match her cranberry colored prescription sunglasses and cranberry colored cane, it dawns on me that she did not hear me.

so i repeat myself…

“EXCUSE ME,” i said again still with my car door closed on my leg.

she acknowledges me, “i’m just trying to get by, kiddo,” she says.

KIDDO?!?!?

now i’m mad. she finds her way to the end of her cadillac and goes along, most likely NOT expecting me to talk back to my elders.

WRONG!!!

“excuse me,” i said for the third time. “could you not have waited the 45 seconds it takes for me to get my KIDDO out of his car seat before CLOSING MY CAR DOOR ON MY LEG?!?”

with the magoo now out of the car and on my hip, the elderly woman glares at me and says, “well aren’t you a little young and sassy to have a child of your own?”

my jaw drops and she walks away.

UGH!!! YEAH LADY, I’M ALSO YOUNG AND SASSY ENOUGH TO LEAVE A DIRTY DIAPER ON YOUR SWEET BOAT OF A CADDY TOO.

crap. i owe this blog a serious update of massive proportions.

but it’s not going to happen today. i’d like for it to happen today, but i just don’t have it in me.

after 2 weeks of being gone and sleeping in more locations than i can remember, crying way more than an obscene amount, and then returning home… i find myself depleted in every way.

this last week has sucked in ways that have taken a toll on me mentally, emotionally and physically. i wasn’t prepared for any of this, but neither was my dear college roommate, em, who lost her sister at 18 and is now being the rock for her grieving family to rest on.

em- i love you so much and i am always here for you.

**********

so yeah, the holiday was good. jackson was spoiled rotten. his loot of gifts had to be shipped back home because there was too much to fit in our luggage.

paul and my father-in-law taught me how to shoot a gun, which i swore to myself i would never do. i’ll most likely never do it again, but had my own reasons for learning and accomplished my goal. hell, i even shot a tin bowling pin target thingy down. entirely by accident… but still.

the holiday is kind of this whirlwind that’s in the back of my mind.

did it really happen?

holidays with a child who has both sets of grandparents in the same city is both a blessing and a curse. you (the primary caregiver) bring your “work” with you over the holidays and it’s never as relaxing as you may have hoped. at least it’s not for me. it was wonderful to have 4 loving grandparents and 2 uncles to occupy jackson, babysit and dote on him for two solid weeks. however, now i am at home with a tantrum-driven, (nearly) 21 month old who has been given everything he has asked for… and sometimes i say “no.”

so between the crocodile tears and pretzel throwing and door banging, i wonder where the hell the holiday went.

and new years… when did it become 2010?

new years eve was spent with one of my six former roommates on night-duty over em and her parents after we buried her sister that morning.

i’ll never forget rubbing em’s mom’s feet with vick’s vapo-rub and placing warm socks on her in an attempt to get her to relax enough to sleep a few hours.

i’ll never forget it because i was exactly where i was supposed to be.

em- i love you so much and i’m always here for you.

**********

i have a ton of family pictures to share. a lot of great stories. but for now this post will have to do, because i really need a nap.

ps- thanks to all of you who have sent such loving comments, facebook messages, tweets and emails. the comments on each of my posts close after 5 days, so for those of you who emailed me because you couldn’t comment the last few days, i thank you for your persistence and kindness.