Perception

I am almost always with the kids. It is rare that I don't have them to do such things as go grocery shopping, present shopping, taking the garbage out even taking a shower. They are always there. And 9 times out of 10 they one of them is being wacky. (By wacky I mean yelling crazy or crying or screaming.) Monday was no different. We went grocery shopping- just the three of us- in the light drizzle of the morning. I offered my toddler the fun cart, one in which he gets to drive. He was excited and as I was putting the baby in i was hoisting the diaper bag onto the cart floor, holding the baby, watching the toddler so he didn't run into the parking lot and some how put the cart cover on for the baby. I thought I was out of the way, and out of the rain when an older gentleman gets his cart and stops. Then he approaches us- in the past older gentleman have made not the best comments so I was ready to just ignore the old fellow- when he asked me if I needed any help. Of course I perked up right away, changed my voice from frustrated mommy to nice lady and smiled, said no thank you and continued with what I was doing. He then replied: "I don't know how you woman do it. It seems that you have so many more hands then us men." I needed that laugh. What a great way to start my day. Unfortunately that was my highlight as 2 minutes later the toddler didn't want that cart so we transferred to a regular one and 5 minutes after that and for the remainder of the shopping trip I had 1 baby who began to cry and 1 yelling toddler unhappy about his cart choice who eventually stopped screaming when I picked him up while feed a bottle to the baby and pushing the cart- I can totally see the many hands comment. I sometimes feel like Vishnu looks (without any religious affiliation). At this time he, the toddler, was so disraught over the cart situation and had bawled so much he proceeded to pee on me then tell me he hadn't while I was still holding him. With my grocery shopping 75% finished, I set him down, and finished shopping. I was not about to abandon cart at this late juncture no was I about to leave without a quarter of my needed items. We finished shopping him with wet pants that were completely undetectable and my with my large wet stain completely noticable.
Apparently, I needed more help that morning then I had thought.

Time

I don't have any.
I want time to pee without anyone calling for me, yelling for me, crying, screaming, coloring on the carpet or peeing on themselves.
When do I get time- between 9 pm and midnight. When I should be napping so as to be ready for the 2, 4:30 and 5am wakings. Not to mention the 3am "mommy" call to get into my bed. Although, I know for a fact he can get in by himself.

All I want for Christmas is a break.
And a clean house that doesn't smell like urine in bedroom corners and in the main bathroom.
And enough money left over at the end of the month to enjoy shopping somewhere aside from the regular cheap, buy one season, wear it, stain it, shrink it and throw it away the next.
And...peace and quiet time.
And my old body back with someone else's nose and children and a husband who enjoy seeing mommy happy instead of getting sheer delight in making me go bonkers.
Maybe I don't need time so much as an alcohol addiction or a housekeeper/nanny or a winning lottery ticket or the peanuts music playing the background of my life so I can just get up and dance by kicking my feet out randomly.
Nope, just more time...
And a margarita.

Is it bed time yet?

I've got a busy morning. Up 4 times last night with the baby- still unsure why. Four in my bed by 12:32 is not the most comfortable night sleep, when I got some. But, when I got up and began to chug a long I realized I had much to do before taking the kids to the 2's class.
I had to make or buy 12 cookies
Cut up, brown and put together dinner in the crock pot
Change the monkey
Feed the baby
Grab the library books- since it is on our way
Take a shower
Put gas in the car
Laundry
Breakfast maybe? Coffee for sure.
Less than 2 hours to accomplish it all
Yeah right!
No shower, or gas for the car, lovely ape changed the monkey- add a baby diaper change.
No problem I was smiling and all was well. Then the Ape left to work and...
Then the shit hit the fan!!!!!!!!!!
As I was trying to get dressed the baby got snippy then cranky, then nuts.
I got changed, put the baby in the car seat and he was rip roaring pissed! But, what could I do we were already late.
The monkey was watching a morning cartoon and when I reminded him that we needed to go to his class and I shut off the television...BOOM! He began crying and stomping.
2 kids- both crying their eyes out. The little one was even turning purple and choking on his saliva. What the hell! Why is this so damn difficult?
I grab them, pushing and screaming-me that is- and I grab my keys to get the garage door open. Why would my keys be attached to my key chain with the whole neighborhood echoing in shrill tears-why, why,WHY GOD, WHY!!!!!!!!!!
I have completely lost it.
Why when daddy was home everybody was just trucking along like the day was going to be great. But, as soon as he gets in his car it's like fucking Armageddon in here, and I'm not sure who the God character is being played by.
I find the keys, calm the monkey down, and deal with the purple faced baby.
We get in the garage, I manage to lose the keys again, and then we go.
The car ride is calming.
The class is usual. Half chaotic because of the one 2 year old who's constantly runs around and doesn't like to clean up- yes of course that would be my kid.
As we leave my gas light goes on- no problem the gas station is 1/4 mile away. Easy, except that for some reason it is shut down. Okay. 1/2 mile later the next gas station is also closed. W H A T? Lucky number 3 is open and close to us.
Lastly, at least so far, I cleaned, put the baby down for a nap, feed the monkey and was getting my piece of R and R - 1 minute in the bathroom with a book- yes this is my only daily time to myself. As soon as I get in there- my sister gets into my house. What does my monkey do when she asks: "Where's mommy?" The monkey runs into the hall, opens the bathroom door and yells "Right here!" And that was when my time to myself ended. I don't get to do anything by myself and thank God it was only my sister. Then the Ape called and added to my chore list. It's 3 o'clock is it bed time yet?

This isn't what I was dreaming about

A weekend alone.
No kids.
Wine that flows like water in a ever abundant ocean.
No kids.
A king sized bed, an in-room spa, dinner reservations.
No kids.
I'm thinking quiet, tipsy, sleeping in, slower pace, not having to leave conversation to change a diaper.
Kisses and holding hands with my love-the great ape that he is...

That is what I was dreaming about...
Instead I got...
1am pee wake up
5am pee wake up and my boobs are as hard as boulders trying to break out of my soft tired skin.
6:24am and I can't take it any longer. I need relief.
No pump, no baby, relief?
I sit on the toilet and try to express milk-drop,drop,drop.
OK.
This will take all morning.
6:30 and I'm in a slightly coldish shower, milk bags so full I can't raise my arms above my shoulders. Like McCain, but curvier.
I'm never going to get back to sleep- no sleeping in- no way.
It's 6:30 in the morning and I'm milking myself like a milk maid.
Just 1 stomach and a wet nose away from becoming a mooing barnyard animal.

Ahh-romantic weekends away from the kids.

Yuck!

Snotty baby, sick toddler and I am already going nuts. I'm wearing the a pair of jeans that make the fat if my stomach over flow above the waist-it's disgusting! My options are 1 left over maternity t-shirt or a multi stained knit top. The frustration in boiling over- I through on the stained top, yell at the husband, grab the kids and leave in a haste to the peds appointment. Of course young good looking doctor in training appears- as if I didn't already feel out of sorts. Good thing he's married and I'm married to a good looking mister myself or I might have felt embarrassed for leaving the house looking like Jabba the Hutt.

My eyes look like a raccoon. Boy started throwing up all over the place right before his bed time and nobody got all real sleep. He looked at me, pacifier still in his mouth and spewed. It got on the loveseat, on the flour in front of the loveseat, on the baby pajamas I had just folded on the loveseat-lots of love going on here-on my pants and some how on my underwear just above and to the right of my butt crack. I still don't know how that happened. Then every inch from chair to hall to bathroom rug to -thats it there was no more puck when he finally arrived at the toilet. Exactly 2cm short of having enough. And then every 20 minutes until 2 am. And now the house stinks like vomit.

The Ape tries to help my morning by making the doctors appointment of the kids and for some unknown reason this sets me off. I get zero chance to shower or eat so I smell, I'm tired and I look like I was diving in a dumpster. This day is already too much for me to handle. And its only noon.

Yesterday I took the family out to buy mommy some pants that actually fit so I can leave the house with some bits of dignity. I got one pair. I started looking for a sweater too since it is getting chilly- but the Ape said that $40 was too much to spend on a sweater-I own a $900 purse-so we looked for those that were more reasonable but there weren't any. How sad is that when I can't afford a sweater at a discount retail chain. And when I made a comment that it wasn't about price but since I am fat I should be cold- he agreed! Fat people should be cold! Lucky for him I knew he wasn't paying attention and when he realized the whole he was in tried to get himself out. It was useless- I just wanted him to tell me to get the damn sweater-it didn't work so I didn't care about apologies. I hate when confusing him doesn't quite work in my favor.

Fat, cold, stained, smelly, snotty-yuck!

Why are you doing the dishes?

A mother's work is NEVER done.
Usually, I take care of my two sons and myself.
Difficult but in some respects easier then dealing with all four of us.
My house is cleaner when it is just the 3 of us, I'm more motivated to clean after the kids go to bed and no buddy second guesses the way I load the dishwasher.
Unlike, lets say today, when what was I doing after the boys were put to bed but...washing the dishes that didn't fit into the dishwasher. How absurd a thing-I know. Cleaning a mess-what was I thinking! As I'm washing the Ape strolls in and asks me what I'm doing.

Hmm, lets see how should I answer that:
- changing my rough hands into leather
-tracking the time it takes to get a backache
-wasting time before dying
But, no I settle with just telling him what I am actually doing- as if he couldn't see.

Then I ask for...you guessed it the bitchiest thing- I ask for help in putting away dry dishes from the dish rack. He sighed and put away a few top items then tried to skip out on me like the task was done and my kingdom was settled.
I stop and say "what about the rest" and he nearly had a convulsion at the idea of putting away the actual items so I could, I don't know, put the wet dishes on to dry.
He thinks that when the dishwasher is full the dishes are done for the day. But, the sink was full, the dishwasher was full and the counter had items on it too. God forbid I might want some help so the kitchen gets clean-I mean he knows I do it everyday. I clean the same things, the same way everyday. And everyday that he is around he bitches and complains and asks the same question: "What are you doing."
WHYYYYY are you asking me that same question, again. You know.
I clean, I cook, I take the toddler to classes with the baby affixed to my chest while squatting down at the monkeys eye level for 45 minutes, I read books aloud, I make grocery lists, change diapers, check our diminishing account, fret over our diminishing account, clean peed on floors, scrub stained carpets, give baths, play football, run after my nude monkey going up the street while taking out the bathroom trash, get spit up on, listen tor crying as if it's a rock and roll symphony, and plan tomorrows menus all while trying to suck in the fat to maybe look attractive if I'm at angle and you squint from 20 feet away- what the fuck do you think I'm doing.
I"M CLEANING THE KITCHEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Me wife, not maid- you here, YOU HELP.


Got to love him!

Cooking

Listening to my husband and grandmother talk about me in another room is most amusing. It is so strange to hear peoples perception. How bizarre and from my angle how just a bit off they are.

While I was rushing about squeezing in chores during a visit that was some what spontaneous and not actually wanted I listened to them go on. Packing days are busy and once the afternoon hits I prefer for the four of us to be alone and try to get in some family time. My grandmother and others seem to absolutely not understand this- it is to the point that I'm just about ready to turn the phone off and not answer the door after 3 on Sundays. All week long I get questioned about how I handle my husband being gone all week, and how he should get a closer job so he's home every night but come the weekends everybody wants some of his time.

My grandmother had said something about how many recipes/cookbooks she had when the Ape had said "Like Liz." With that she went on to say that I didn't like to cook and he said that I did but he liked to cook more. They never asked me. He failed to mention that I have cooked through out our 10 year relationship-including just about every lunch and dinner for the first year we were married. And now do so everyday for 3 meals.

I love to cook and bake and have since I was young. But, give me a break. I fucking hate our kitchen. It's about the size of a bathroom but with less counter space. Our food is stored in one cabinet and a metal shelf from IKEA-not exactly Julia Childs pantry. Not to mention the 2 occasions that a full sized gray rat appeared. Not a cute little pet raton- a sneaky disease filled R A T. Yuck! Disgusting. Does this make you want to cook? Or, you know walk in that room. Yeah, it's safe but add those on to the 2 best chefs assistants that are always under foot. They just love to sit and watch me cook and bake, they help so well always measuring perfectly and never spilling. Right, there 2 years old and 5 months old they want all my attention now and helping is not there strong suit. It's fun at times but everyday, every meal- no.

I don't get the time, space or even enough people to feed to cook and bake the way I would like. But, the way they were talking it made it sound like I make a salad once a week and call it dinner. It's amazing that we aren't starving to death!

After all that foolishness- I finished some chores, she left, he packed and eventually I went to the grocery store for diapers. The baby was napping anyway and the big one was resting up against daddy, watching a show. It was a quick run- no cart, no list. I grabbed diapers and went to the self check out. While waiting some crazy lady crossed my path, looked at me and said something in some language and continued her conversation to nobody as she walked past. Weird.

Then, the guy ahead of me goes to check out- I step to his spot, my arms full of diapers, pull ups and more pull ups. He turns around, he apparently left something on the floor but I couldn't see it over my load. I took a step back with just my right foot and the chic behind me smacks me with her cart. Personal space bitch! Usually one would hear 'Oops, I'm sorry!' But, I received a "Ooh." Ooh, Ooh, my face fucking hurts from being smacked by 3 thousand diapers. Ooh! What the hell. Of course as I finished paying, I grab the receipt and some other bitch is right behind me trying to get my spot. It's a line-wait until I leave! Trying to run me out before I can get my stuff. I have 3 containers of diapers in express self check out - who the hell needs to get out of here more?? Just get out of my way and wait your turn.

I guess it was pick on Liz day-how fun.

Politeness

Have you ever gone someplace and had people be polite to you? Now have you been to a place where you have been polite to someone else? Not odd really. Usually, I am helpful when I see the need and am not in a hurry, frazzled over my kids. Someone needs help and without asking I just help. This sounds normal right? But, today I got people being polite just because it would serve them. A selfish polite.
I took the kids this morning to get a cup of coffee at a local coffee superstore. Shortly after jumping into the car- you know how quickly a mommy can get two kids in a car and transfer a stroller from one vehicle to the next. Super speed right-10 minutes later. I decided that I rather have coffee and a walk. So off to a local neighborhood that is family oriented and a little bit on the upscale side.
We walked to the coffee shop, got coffee and left. I opened the door with my behind, started scooting the stroller out while trying to get the monkey to walk through the open door in a small space next to me. In the midst of all of this action a man waits inside trying to get out- somewhat patiently but doesn't move to help. And a women from outside, almost completely oblivious to me in the door, grabs the handle and opens it, freeing my butt and giving me the ability to move faster. I said "thank you" in an upbeat voice and she didn't respond.
She was in her own world- so close to coffee she could practically taste its bitterness on her sour puss. It took time before she even realized that I had spoken to her. She was not aiding a fellow women in need- she was trying to get her fix, I was just an obstacle she needed to move out of her way quicker so she could run to the head of the line. I don't think I have ever payed attention to this kind of selfish encounter. But, I went on my merry way coffee, stroller and kids.
As we ended our walk and headed towards our car nothing enduring or out of the ordinary happened. We window shopped, we walked, I drank my coffee.
Next to our car a older women parked. She had done so before we had even left our car. She parked next to my drivers side after I had removed the baby so I hadn't noticed her extraordinary parking job. When we went back I then noticed that she had parked extremely close to my drivers side. Thus I was able to open the door, with hitting her rear passenger door, enough to barely squeeze the car seat with child in but not latch him. I left his door open a bit so I would remember that he was not ready to go. I went about putting the monkey in the car and closing up the stroller when who should come up but old woman who parks too close when there are an infinite amount of open spaces around.
In her old stylish grandma way told me she was going to close my door all the way. And she said it with a smile on her face. As if she was doing me a favor. How often do people forget to close a door? I mean yes a times we don't close it hard enough but the door wasn't ajar it was open. I could see it open, luckily it rested open only 2 inches so as not to be hitting her rear passenger door anymore. To that I answered "No thank you, my baby is in the car and I still need to latch him in". She then took her hands off of my car door- said "oh" and proceeded to get in her car and go. Good job grandma. My door was not in her way- her whole damn car was in mine. I thought I was going to have to back out a bit to fix the car seat before leaving. It was so nice of her to offer fixing my car so she wouldn't have to turn her head while backing out. Selfish,selfish,selfish. Next time don't park so damn close to people!
I wonder what goes through peoples minds? She saw that I had to kids, how would they magically get in and out of the car? And how can you miss my big ass in the glass door help or don't but pay attention.
In the end nothing was damaged or feelings hurt but I think I see things a little differently. Next time I have the monkey wig out in the coffee shops doorway to stop all walking traffic and cry when I can't get into my car properly.

So tired!!!!

I am exhausted. Why does motherhood have to be so freakin tiring! But, it is what it is and I am always complaining about it.

But a light has shown on me now. As I look around I wonder why God has given me this dead time. I don't know how to use it for the betterment of my mood or to wipe out exhaustion. The toddler is out with great grandma and baby is sleeping. So, with this God given quiet time I have decided to...do a load of laundry, update the baby book, take the trash/recycling to the curb, DRINK CAFFEINE, make my bed,write this, work on thank you cards and read a chapter. Why can't I just get it together enough to take a nap with the kids?? A nap sounds so good! If I lay down, I can't sleep. It isn't until I need to be awake that my eyes will start to gain weight and the desire to meet up with its partner. Timing is everything- and I don't have any.
However, getting some chores done is much easier when a baby isn't hanging on your hip and a toddler insisting on helping you every inch of the way- even when they can't reach or fall trying to help. This is like a mini house vacation. -----Okay, I'm over it.
Then I think about when the hubby will get home. I imagine lots of help and time to myself. I can see a sleeping me at a normal time. Rest and relaxation I can sense on my way- but the reality of this occurring- not so much. Then I will get upset with him for not giving me basically what I was daydreaming about. He is so screwed- somehow it will be his fault. I'm good at expecting lots and hinting little.
Okay, maybe a nanny will work. I just need my job back and then I can sign over my check to her- helping the economy- but then I'll have to pay more taxes so we'll have even less money- wait that won't work.
Maybe just a sleep aid or Martini. I've lost it. So tired!!!

Help

It is obvious to at least some, that at times I need help, the help that a cobalt martini can't offer. With 2 kids and a traveling husband sometimes I just have to take people up on their help to get things done. Today was one of those days- in fact this week is full of aid. But, today is that special icing on the cake that makes your stomach go 2-40-8.
My grandmother was going to help me clean my house. She came armed with mopping solution , although I don't have a traditional mop she seemed not ever to pay attention to that or the fact that I mop E V E R Y night before bed. She also came with garden clippers.
I pleaded that my grandmother's raking and cutting was not helping but instead making things worse on me. She ignored 95% of what I said and instead raked up a new mound for my neighbor cats to crap in. She thought I could place it all in the recycle bin because why?? Where would we be put all the regular weekly recycling? I then explained that the trash/recycling/yard waste pick up was today so not to touch any of that stuff. I don't have time to lug out ripping bags of branches and bushes at 9pm. I have - in my mind- more important things to do. Which is why of course I need the help. Things like bathroom cleaning, vacuuming and getting rid of the toy clutter. None of those things did she help with by the way.
She scrubbed, washed, replaced, retile, rebuilt- well not really but those immigrants are work horses she would've done anything SHE thought was necessary. I think she has a plan and is slowly working through it- like hiding a picture she thinks is inapropraitte while dusting.
Tomorrow my mom is coming to help- now her version of help is opposite- she asks "So what do you need help with?" or "What do you need me to do?" You know like someone you doesn't have an ulterior motive- although she will move pictures and add vases etc. She gets that from her mother- my workhorse grandmother. The immigrants come here and they are workhorses, they have immigrant children and they inherit that workhorse mentality, by the time it reaches the grandchildren- that keep working or will die attitude well-let's just say it's not around so much. But, that also means I probably won't scrub my grand kids screen door track or suggest serving their nap time child a cookie. Here's to hoping!

Nothing compares to our trip

A very similar but more awful thing happened on our trip. I took the toddler while my good friend watched the sleeping baby, and we went to a pharmacy and local grocery store. In the last 2 minutes of our trip to the pharmacy he chose to scream, yell and through a huge tantrum because I wouldn't let him get a candy. Not so unusual but, apparently in this small town it was the equivalent to watching the running of the bulls occurring down main street.

I had to hold his arm so he wouldn't run, then knelt down beside him while waiting for a painfully slow cashier. He went on and on- an ancient man stopped in his tracks and stared at us in the distance until we left the store. Someone came over and tried to give the kid a bear to hold- but since he was in full rage mode he yelled and threw it. Thanks mister! I paid, we left. And walked to the next store as he sobed about candy. I couldn't stop and wait for this to end I had to get back quickly so I would talk every once in awhile to try and calm him down then ignore him for a minute and this cycled on. I put him in the grocery cart and he stepped it up a notch.

It was loud and exhausting! People stopped shopping to stare as we passed. I was working over time too be patient and calmly get him back to quiet. "Oh my god whats wrong with him" was said at some point. Right as he was calming down a man about 2 feet away from us, that apparently was at the last store too, said to our general direction "You should've just given him the candy." I made no eye contact, continued to get the item in that area then turn around and left. But the tiger started up again. You asshole! Who the fuck are you to say that. Giving in is not going to teach him anything. I mean if that is all it takes my ass will run down to Gucci and give it a try right now. Fucker! AHHHHHHHHHHH!

Then another moldy oldy was shopping around in a electric cart and was going to the same aisles we were. She seemed to be getting irritated that I wouldn't get out of her way with my maniac. She was literally looking her nose down at us- the old sour puss. She finally broke away and when we rounded a blind corner we almost ran into each other- of course she stopped looked at me and said "Almost" then went on with her old self. Her coward husband smiling behind. Bitch I should put you out of your misery right now!

This store was too much for me. In the check out line the rascal relaxed and all forms of tantrum stopped. But, I was already mortified. I felt like I was in a little New England town in the fall where something eerie was occurring but since we were not the lead characters involved knew nothing about it. Everyone was staring with dead eyes and pursed lips.

My kids, my rules- old people stay out my business! I have never seen or heard such rude people in my life. I was shocked. And proud that no one was physical harmed in this shopping experience.

Bug Off Bitch

I like notice occasionally. I'm loud, bitchy and dramatic- at times. On a regular basis I'm just me and don't like too much attention when I'm out and about. Most often if you leave me alone, I'll do the same back.

Most recently, this afternoon and on our trip, we have had extra unwanted attention. A negative sort of attention. Back before my beautiful boys were born I probably would have called out these people but I like to think that now I have more restraint. Although, on these two incidents I wonder how.

Today, we as a family went out to order cupcakes for an upcoming family event. At the bakery we had to wait, discuss, draw, choose, pay, etc. It takes time to place an order and the kids were being kids. Nothing the two of us couldn't handle. The other patrons and in fact the baker paid no attention until... a very pregnant and mismatched 40 year old and her gray haired husband walk in and spot us. It was hard not to since the shop was the size of a clam shell. They ordered and chose to sit next to us. She even asked if we were using the 2 seat table where she wanted to squeeze into because our car seat was near it, you know next to my chair- as if it had another place it could fit. I moved it- she sat.

And for the rest of her croissant she watched us. She sat with her back to us so she very obviously turned her entire body around to look at me, the toddler and the whole brood. She did so over 5 times and just stared. I tried not to pay any attention but I felt like yelling: HELLO, Can we HELP YOU???

I went on playing pretend with the boy as hubby finished the order. It seems that during this time the couple got so annoyed that they took their items unfinished and left. It is not my fault that her pregnancy was winning and she looked like shit but bitch mind your own freakin business. My kids were not yelling, screaming, crying or running so in mommyland they were well behaved!

But, nothing compares to our trip.

Car Tripping

Is it the universe playing tricks on the lonely anxiety ridden mom traveling from one state to another with small, screaming children? It is my full belief that going to the grocery store is small stress test and traveling alone with them is... well like getting a pap smear after a car accident on a day when your checking account gets over drawn-all with a infant and toddler's rendition of "The Immigrant song" in the back ground- it sucks.

But, this is something I did with pleasure- sort of. It was my idea to go visit a dear friend. I thought we could commiserate. Although we did, there was far more than I anticipated going on- but that is another story, damn kids.

The drive there was a dream. The toddler ate the healthy packed snacks I made. The infant slept the entire way. Slower cars pulled out of my way. I drank just the right amount of caffeine to get to my destination. Well, the only snafu was pulling over on the side of the road- while the kids were sleeping- to pee without other travelers watching, but at least I had the beautiful El Dorado National forest views as my magazine.

But, the law of odds is easy one way - the hell the other. I know that is the fluffy way of putting it but I do love my kids.

We chose the same route, I feed the kids, I packed the car, I left the friends and we were set to go. Well, we made two minor stops on our route coffee and gasoline. In that 1.2 minute drive the baby was whaling like I had starved him for a week. So, I pumped gas and feed him the first bottle of the trip. The bottle I was hoping would be for a mid point or never like the way there. I did start feeding him in the coffee drive through and that just seemed to tease him. But, lucky for me the barista / cashier heard all the hollering and just felt the need to make a comment. The people of this small town love to comment- but like I said that's another story.

We were set and now 4 miles out of town the baby began to cry and cry and cry for 10 miles, we we're back in our own state before he fell asleep and I wasn't going to stop for anything.

This was the set up for the rest of the trip.

A car hit a dead raccoon which set it flying into my front end- I screamed- the toddler screamed from a sleep state and cried some nonsense for 5 minutes.

A big rig tire snapped, caught wind, slid under my rear passenger tire and scared the shit out of me. It made a very loud popping sound and then shout out behind the car like a feather in a wind storm.

We ate at a McDonald's in Stockton with no baby changing station and country music playing on the radio.

The baby cried all the way down 680. ALL THE WAY DOWN 680. All 32.3 miles of it- he cried and shrieked and cried.

I never got to hear the new song the dj's were talking about.

The house was 92 degrees when we got inside.

This is what a: pap smear, car accident, negative checking account, baby rendition of Led Zeppelin is like -ah does this count as vacation?

Just Shut Up!!!

Every one of my days is stress filled. I am anxious with every outing, every nap time, every phone call, dinner time etc. I am anxious about the reactions of the children and others around. Usually we get settled in and that feeling flees. This was not the case today.

Today we were going to go to the State Fair and I was driving. We waited for daddy to get home and baby to be feed then we were off. Earlier in the day the kids and I had made our way over to that area. So, I knew the general direction. But, since I am so crappy with directions I also had my handy dandy satellite navigation system.

Now we all know the great thing about having a navigational system in the car with you is that it tells you what to do. It talks so you must listen to hear your next steps. This is how it gets the information legally to you- really nice and easy. Great, I was driving and my navigation was talking and I felt good about it all, especially since we had been in that area earlier in the day. My outing anxiety should have been relatively low to non existent. But, it WASN'T. No, apparently my earlier route and my navigation system had nothing on my husband (to be referred to as my Ape from this point forward). So as the navigation dinged and spoke, he spoke, the baby was whimpering and the toddler singing really loudly into his hand as if it was a microphone. Oh, and lets not leave out the mediocre 80's rock playing in the background. At his point-just 1.2 miles from our start- I just wanted to shout from the top of my lungs: SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!

The voice of reason settled and I said nothing. Finally, the Ape told the toddler to be quiet because this was a time that mommy needed to listen. That was a prime example of: those that can't teach-and I should know right. And he gave me another driving direction right after the system gave it to me. I had it! Really- you don't find this odd you freak'n managing maniac. I have my own set of hearing ears- jackass. In a normal voice, I think, I finally told him "...that is what I have this for" and patted the navigation system.

This is way I have the anxiety.

Vacation time

Cook
Clean
Do laundry
Put the kids down
Feed the kids
Clean the kids
Buy diapers
Fill time before doing the afore mentioned activities.

The difference so far between vacation and every other day:
-Cramped sleeping quarters- all in one room, all in one bed
-Lack of toys to keep kids busy so I can go to the bathroom without asking for help
-Toiletries in a bag on a counter

Why is it deemed vacation time? I'm assuming that one of the troop members that isn't doing the above or bothered by the above may be enjoying themselves. This leaves only two possibilities: toddler and baby. And everyone has seen toddlers tantrum more on the road than in their own environment.
So, inevitably everyone is presuming I would caption a photo memorializing the trip with something like:

"The baby is having a great time on this family trip. We wish to do it again next...never." August 2008
The photo would have the baby smiling or making a cooing face in the foreground while the toddler was on the floor in full tantrum mode, dad in the back left with shoulders slouched, eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed, while I was in the right back pulling out my hair with mouth wide open, eyes popping out and stains down my shirt.

Yes, vacation season has begun. Help me!

My Bed Time Routine

*Put kids down to bed
*Clean kitchen
*Pick up around the living room
*Get ready for bed
Check-now its my turn to relax.

I pop in an episode of a series I'm making my way through, lay in bed and
a monkey starts to cry. I pause my show...10 minutes later I'm back and I'm interested. Half way through the show the monkey pops into my room and I throw him into my bed. He is to sleep and I am to pretend he is not there and continue with my show.
My down time is now mommy watch take two. Even God took a break. I suspect.
I continue on to another episode- put the monkey back in his own bed and I now am too tired to watch anything. I fall into a deep sleep of waking up every 5 minutes. Some many hours later a monkey climbs into my bed. Less than an hour later the peanut goes off like a siren. Soon my bed becomes a haven for three- one who needs to be there and two that can't except that they shouldn't.

I do everything?

Today the Ape went to work and I went over to my parents. He worked, I put the kids down for their nap. He returned to the house, and it was a blaze with activity. It was the usual. Then he got crazy, crazy grouchy. He didn’t want the kids to make noise while he watched television. He also didn’t want the Monkey to watch shows but wouldn’t play with him. He wanted everyone to freeze while he hurried up and finished his show so we could go. Does this seem a bit unrealistic- perhaps. Truly the angst was building, but as soon as kids needed to get in their car seats and wife needed to put shoes on the Apes face seemed to change color but why? We ended up going to the grocery store and his aggravation gained momentum. With what is unclear but, man he turned into a beast. We came home, dropped the groceries in the kitchen and played with the kids in the front yard and garage. There must have been a faint and swift wave of normalcy that came over him to indulge the kids.

For some reason, bugs, our little monkey prefers to play in the front yard, lawn chairs included. The garage door was open and we ended up in there, I was cleaning and he was looking for a charger. This charger is necessary to recharge the monkey’s toy ride-on lawnmower. The child wanted to play on the lawnmower toy and so the Ape thought he’d better get it to work. This would be a fun activity to observe and stay relatively inactive so I was on board.

However, this illustrious charger proved to be missing in action. Of course this mysteriously missing charger must be unattainable because someone touched it. Who could possibly touch something so important as a charger???? Well, by the Apes tone of voice, tightened shoulders and lowered eyes in my direction, he must have assumed that I touched the charger. How could this be? Well it is true that I am the only one to clean and put things away. I am also the only one who never ever has charged, unplugged or knows the difference between the charger and any other plug in the garage. I try to avoid this area of task work, so I leave something for the man to do. But, I didn’t receive any praise.

I know I’m the mom but really I don’t actually know where EVERYTHING has been placed. Are you serious? Obviously, the Ape put the damn charger somewhere and cannot remember where he put it. Why should I be blamed? Together we cleaned the garage about a month ago- a forgotten point on his part. I pointed and he pitched. He knew what he needed, I just knew what I didn’t. All signs led to his fault. He ranted for 20 minutes looking for this damn thing. The monkey had lost all of his desire to play with the toy- he was off trying to make a train out of a scooter and two wire baskets. The child is far more reasonable then his father, at times.

The next day he found a cheap replacement for the afore mentioned charger. He was beaten- by his own memory loss. Did he ever apologize- no. Nor did he remember anymore than the day before. Apparently, one has the right to be an asshole when they lose a necessary component to their child’s happiness, especially when said item can be easily replaced. His grouchiness over took his sensibility- wait that can’t be right – he lacks that. His grouchiness took over the ability to have fun with his kids, in the front yard on lawn chairs. I mean, what is this world coming to when you can’t enjoy a hot afternoon playing white trash while your neighbors look on? I mean really!

Driving: Do you know how???

Okay, I should get a grip but does aaaaanyone pay attention to what roads are and what they are used for??? Or cars and the general rules? Is it too much to ask to pay the fuck attention! I mean people are crazy today. I went to the park with the baby to exercise my butt off and when I returned the car behind me was so close I could barely open the hatch to get the stroller in. Opening and closing required that I be on the curb and close it from the side. When you park behind a car whose trunk opens out you should make sure that they can open it. This is not a difficult task. Just common sense.



This means I was now sandwiched between a Mercedes and a CR-V. When I left the car I was behind a Smartcar and nobody was behind me because nobody was supposed to be behind me- there's a driveway there!!!! It took me 3 minutes to get the car out of the spot without hitting anything, with a screaming baby and the Mercedes lady watching it all-JUST MOVE THE FUCKING CAR. Obviously, she was too busy watching and bitching to her friend. And then to come over and check her car- did you hear me hit it? Did you see me hit it eagle eyes? By the way your alarm didn't go off so you don't need to beep it!




But, did the fun end there? No, of course not, I was 3.4 miles away from home - Next, people crossing the street. Not in a cross walk, but around a blind spot 10 feet away. And they look at me. Why? I was going the posted speed- the damn sign was above their heads. Ok, that one I should be used to but I was already pissy.




Next up runners!!!!! As I was approaching my neck of the woods, two women coming jogging out of their court, one at a time, on the street, and decided to turn toward me, while I'm moving. Were they going to run into my vehicle? Is this a new form of chicken or were these chicks just idiots? I was beyond stunned. Everyone must have their damn road/vehicle brains shut off.

Holding My Breath

When you have your first child you seem to hold your breath for a long time worrying about the "what if's" that accompany newborns. What if he gets sick? How will I know what to do? Is this normal? Why is this so hard? By the time you start to figure things out and feel good about parenthood, a new phase begins and you need to re-adjust and learn all over again. But, you take the past experiences as wisdom to help you move forward.

Well with baby number two I am holding my breath again, this time for different reasons. I know the answers or know what to do to get them. I know when the crying is going to stop, I know why he is hungry all the time, and I'm ready for it all. This time I'm holding my breath because I'm ready to move forward. I want baby number two to be a baby for awhile. I want him to get the attention he needs, while his brother is distracted, but I NEED to be myself again.

I'm holding my breath waiting for my kids to grow up enough so I can enjoy my husband again, clean my house in under 8 hours while guest are over, sleep without a stuffed monkey thrown on my face, get my nails done with out a shrieking phone call, drink a margarita with friends, stop and smell the flowers while still have petals attached to them and not my carpet and go through my days without rushing around.

This weekend was a big step toward breathing again. My ape softened to a gentle giant and watched the kids for a few hours while I just frittered the afternoon away. And the next day we took the baby's co-sleeper out of our room. It's next destination: our garage until yard sale day '09. I think my chest is starting to loosen up a little. I don't want my little guys to be teenagers tomorrow. I just would like them to be old enough so I don't have to worry about either one of them while I'm away. Of course while I was out, I rushed about thinking I had kids to deal with or hurry home to and relaxing didn't kick in until it was almost time to leave. Obviously, getting accustomed to breathing again will take some time.

TiVo - to love it is to be selfish and to hate it is useless

I love and hate my TiVo's. Yes, Tivo's because you can't just have one. Families are torn apart over who is aloud to record their show. Tivo makes people selfish. Perfectly sane, intelligent, giving people, selfish. Why and how? Well I don't rightly know. Except for the notion of power. Power and control of the remote even when your at work, the grocery store, or on the toilet. My family craves power so you can probably figure out that there is some level of tension surronding the television.

After 3 nights away my lovable Ape returns home and quickly turns from "happy to be home" to "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" when one of his shows had not been fully recorded. It was a shock to the system. I stay at home and deal with the terrible two year old and his incredibly hungry brother in a house that never stays clean. I didn't and don't really need another whininng voice from within. It was outrageous. It's just a show, right? Wrong. I didn't kiss his feet - but deep down I felt his pain.

Are you kidding me?

When people see a stressed out women with a screaming baby and a very "hands-e" toddler walking their way what do they think? Gee, I should try to squeeze next to them and give the mother a dirty look or say "Um, thanks" as the the already overdone mom tries to move the stroller to the side of a one person wide aisle while the toddler is shucking all the shelving items to the ground. Are you kidding me- get the fuck out of the way! Don't judge me, I'm just trying to stay alive. Unless you can tell me exactly what will make my 2 year old not act like a 2 year old don't dish out advice or comments. He's 2 and very active, I get it.

But I still need to get out and, lets say go grocery shopping, put gas in the car, go to the doctor, get the car tuned up, buy gifts, eat, pay bills and go for walks. I can't just lock the kids in the house and get everything magically done. To all those that dislike kids- parents dislike you and we train our children to be obnoxious when you're around. It's something we practice as a family. I suggest that you just get out of our way.

And... Thank you for not spawning.

Pots & Pans

Ahh! All I need is 1 freakin' pan!
I'm in the middle of cooking my dinner, wrangling the monkey, and warming up his favorite chicken nuggets, as well as keeping the peanut entertained and unloading the dishwasher. I should be able to get out the necessary pot, pan and corresponding lids with ease or at least without too much frustration. But, No. For some reason the Ape thinks that shoving in all the pots and pans until the door can barely stay closed is the best way to handle putting away the dishes. What is so damn difficult about stacking the pots, pans and lids. That way I can easily get to the one I need with out creating an orchestra of claps that have the peanuts eyes popping out of his little round head and hearing the monkey saying "Mommy, what you doing?" on repeat.

I just want a fucking pan!!! This kitchen is the size of a thimble, so it must be organized damn it! I don't have time for this shit!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Of course I reorg'd it and like last time I'm sure the Ape will complain about it, then I'll get pissy and subsequently forget it all. 2 weeks later I will no doubt reorg. something else and start the whole process over again. It's like deja vu with the sippy cup storage, the kids dishes, our utensils, food, everything.

But, honestly time is off the essence when the two year old is talking louder than a jet plane and the baby's "feed me" timer is ticking.

2a.m.

2am love affair. Well it was not quite 2am. And really it was a far cry from a love affair. It was me being startled awake by someone talking- a little two year old someone. I hopped up out of bed and went to his aid. We actually conversed as if it was 10 am not 2. I ended up laying on his bed, laying my head down where my feet belong, and the monkey jumped right there too. I began falling asleep and he was out. I turned to lay on the correct side with my head on the pillow- minutes later he joined , covered himself with the sheet and out he was again. At least this is what I thought. I tip toed over to my room, my big comfy bed and my squishy pillows. Moments later I was out- a flicker of noise reappeared -was it a mouse, the tv, an infant- Oh my! Nope. My bed was no longer the wonderland of slumber I had left. Now it was a bed of two and the little one snores. 3 hours later the little one was up and ready for his turn to come to my bed and take it hostage. At least he can't talk or walk in while I'm asleep to scare the shit out of me like the monkey does. All in do time though, I know, all in do time.

This event led to a morning cup of hot and an afternoon iced coffee. This did NOT do the trick.
I'm fading quick.

Blogging

So this is what "mommyhood" has come to: ranting about the stark raving mad thoughts of me and my pod family. Not only that, but they let me spew this nonsensical "stuff" from my bed at half past dawn for free! Just like I say when things take too long to describe or explain to my 2 and a half year old: "It's magic!"

Every item I write, every typed letter or thought that crosses my mind happens when I'm half asleep. Why? Because, I'm always half asleep. I'm so serious that I couldn't even put the damn explanation mark after "asleep." It's serious. I haven't gone through one night in two years five months without waking up at least twice during the night. By waking up I mean searching for a pacifier in two different rooms, filling a glass with water, getting medicine, changing diapers, checking the front of the house for weird noises, trying to shut the snoring off, changing sheets, checking temperatures, reading the baby bible of care taking to soothe my soul in stead of calling 911 over gas, bringing baby to bed, taking toddler out of my bed and of course there are 100 more things that keep me up at night. Notice not once did I mention wild passionate love making, crazy hot sex or even snuggling. Apparently, there isn't time for that. There is too much not sleeping going on. It's a horrible affliction that apparently comes with the graceful, clean, relaxing, healthy, self absorbed job of child rearing.

I do this all for my wonderful family: an Ape, a monkey, a peanut, and me an angel who is in dire need of a margarita, pedicure and Gucci.

My Ape: I'm married to a guy who thinks standing up is strenuous, especially if the television is on. To add to that he travels during the week for work. He is gone, lets just say, um ALL THE TIME.

In addition I have two boys (Monkey and Peanut)- one on the teet and a two year old who can't hear the sound level of his own voice. He is so freakin loud all the time. He has now gotten into the rocker singing style of lets say, Henry Rollins. Every word he sings is guttural, with his little face turning bright purple and a pretend mic up to his mouth. At times he moves it closer and further away- has he been to a concert? There must be some toddler MTV or Fuse network I'm not aware of on the TV front. Man I'm old. I just want him to play with blocks.

Me, well I'm fat and I'm a mommy with a part time husband and a very loooooooooooowwwwwww bank account. It's a pleasure. I can honestly say I never dreamt of such a future.

Well, my time is up. This is the end of tonights blog. Hopefully, I'll get some sleep. Realistically I'm already thinkg about my morning cup of coffee.