It's Beginning to Stress A Lot Like Christmas...

My first Christmas post. Things are as usual, crazy around here. This year is extra special because Grandma is leaving to visit Auntie in Kansas for the holiday and that leaves just Grandpa here for the festivities. If your family is like mine, Grandma is what makes Christmas happen. She does the biggest tree, she bakes the cookies, she plans the meal, she's had the grand-kids presents wrapped and squirreled away since September. Grandpa's contribution usually includes some especially boozy eggnog and maybe stringing lights on the front of the house. So this year if we want to have that magical special warm and fuzzy Xmas, its up to me. Great timing too considering things have been slow at our business so guess who has not got any presents wrapped or squirreled away? Yup, moi. I think some re-gifting will be in order. As for cookies, I have agreed to try gingerbread men for our 6 yr old. So far, I'm out of eggs and need to borrow a cookie cutter. But we will persevere. Instead of a big holiday feast like Grandma would do, I'm thinking i'll make a one dish meal - maybe a festive Christmas lasagna! Oh how the smell of slow roasted lasagna filling the house will surely put everyone in the proper spirit! I did manage to get a tree up. Mind you it's a Walmart special - prelit for $40 - but hey with all of the ornaments and a couple of glasses of Pinot Noir in you, no one's going to complain. So to wrap up, Dear Santa, All I want for Christmas is some prescription muscle relaxers, a good bottle of wine, and maybe a moment of Zen if you can find one for me in this chaos. Thanks and God Bless, The Omahamama

Long Overdue Rant

So I'm turning 35 on Friday. I actually forgot how old I was - I've been mistakenly telling everyone that I'll be 36. How and why would a person forget how old they are. Dementia? Sort of...

Lilly turned six.
Lolo turned 2.75.

There is definitely more than one blogs worth of stuff here so I'll summarize with a few blog post titles that would make awesome rants.

*Husband dropped his phone in sink a.k.a Sharing a Cell Phone.
*No one in my home knows how to flush a toilet.
*Why do sound/motion activated noise-making toys never seem to wear out of batteries?
*Refrigerator light bulb burned out.
*Above stove light burned out.
*Republicans are oblivious.
*Our family van is falling apart.
*I am not an accountant.
*My home is the Money Pit.
*We can't afford a vacation.
*Dad, you thought I'd agree to let you take my girls out-of-town on Thanksgiving?
*Fender bender in my driveway.
*Lactose intolerance.
*Cat yak.
*Remembering when I used to get "my hairs did".
*Halloween: Sugar is evil and should be a controlled substance for kids under 18!

I love my little girls, really I do. But after what they put me through this weekend...they are lucky there is no "people pound" or they might've gotten the boot!

Here are the highlights:

Friday afternoon - discover an entire bag of goldfish crackers spilled and crushed into the bedroom carpet. While cleaning stumble upon the cat covered in body wash. Have to "wash" said cat in the shower. Meanwhile, baby escapes the house in the nude and goes streaking around the backyard.

EARLY Saturday morning - wake up to find baby in my bed. Roll over and sink my hand into a pile of sleeping baby poo; have to clean her, change sheets, and remake bed all between 3 and 5 a.m.

Saturday night - finally get a break. Enjoying wine and marshmallows (don't judge me!) outside in front of fire with hubby. Go inside to refill my glass and slip on the kitchen floor, falling and bashing my still healing knee that I fell on this winter. Discover "someone" has sprayed COOKING SPRAY all over the floor.

Sunday morning - while attending mass all appears to be calm until 5 yr old tries to balance on the kneeler and brings it crashing down into my shin. Later she also runs across my bare foot with shoes on.

Conclusion: I blew my calories this weekend with stress eating and drinking. But really, after reading this, can you blame me?

Funny Things.

My children are slowly but surely driving me insane. They do have a few redeeming qualities that I want to mention lest they grow up not getting that mama's blog is meant to be funny, not mean.

Right now I can hear Lolo watching Dora the Explorer. When the cartoon characters ask aloud: "Do YOU like to sing?" I hear her little voice respond "Uh-huh!" It's hilarious.

Lilly has recently picked up the word "awkward". She uses it for everything - except things that are actually awkward. I'm generally amused but I'm only allowing her to use once a day after hearing her drop it like a swear forty times this past weekend.

We had pretty strong weather when we celebrated my sister's college graduation. At one point the whole party had to rush under the tent as rain and hail began to pour from the sky. Lilly didn't mind and ran headlong into the storm screaming "it's raining ICE CUBES!"

I scold Lilly. Lilly scolds Lolo. Lolo scolds the cat. HA!

I guess these are the kind of things that keep me from dropping them off alone at the bus station.

Lipstick

Honestly.

Let Me Paint You A Picture...

...Or what happens when you leave kids alone with a camera.

"Look Mama! Look at my teeth! See Lolo's teeth? Mama, can I take a picture of your tee-"
NO, no you cannot. Please don't play with the camera!

Angst or at Least I Think So

Okay Big O, I've survived 34 years of pain and misery here like most of us but I am sick and tired of being your bitch. I just read somewhere that the key to success is determination and the key to determination is motivation. So, I am super motivated to move right now. I can't handle this town anymore. I am in the minority in my politics, my ethnicity (by marriage), my socio-economy, and my dislike of the local favorite sporting team.

When we moved to this little Bohemian neighborhood, I was excited. It's way more diverse than the area I grew up in, the neighbors were mostly blue collar but nice, and there seemed to be a active spirit about the place. But after this recession and the city government failing to keep promises, I am just done. There is nowhere in this city or even state that interests me and though my extended family is all here, I am frigging desperate to get out of this place.

Did I mention I hate the climate too? Now, I just need to figure out how to get out of my home and get on the road. C'mon, I gave it my best shot, now give me a break!

Today I Don't Feel So Old

Created by Oatmeal

Meanwhile, the girls even turned away from Spongebob to ask, "Mom, what is that sound?" I think I will record it on my phone for when I need to get their attention. BAHAHAHAHAHA!

Mom Eats Young: The Thing About Sacrifice

Mom Eats Young: The Thing About Sacrifice: "Ah the Easter season. Springtime. Renewal. A time for Lent. Lent? Yes Lent, the Christian preparation for the Ressurection. I had alway..."

The Thing About Sacrifice

Ah the Easter season. Springtime. Renewal. A time for Lent. Lent? Yes Lent, the Christian preparation for the Ressurection. I had always hated Lent. It's all about sacrifice right? Jesus sacrificed his life for our sins and so therefore I have to sacrifice candy for six weeks. Seems fair right? It should be a no brainer. 


Well I am still struggling with this question. A sacrifice on any level is just so, so hard! I want to set a good example for my girls, not be too flashy about it but just let them know that I am a willing participant in this. Every year I think, this will be the year where I will give up stuff till it hurts! But when Ash Wednesday rolls around (black-smudge-on-forehead day for the uninitiated) I get caught up in the rationalization of what to do that would be appropriate. For Chrissake (pun intended) I can't go dying for anyone and yet denying myself sweets just seems weak on the scale of giving of oneself. 
On the other hand, I find it incredibly difficult to keep tabs on myself when there seems to be so many other problems in my life. I mentioned this to my husband, that maybe we should give to a charity or do some community service work instead. His response was, WE need charity lately so how were we going to give to someone else when we're struggling? He has a good point. 


Catholic guilt certainly has a hand in it. I come from a family of pretty devout Catholics but I don't recall them ever expressing the desire to do good works. Not to say that they wouldn't help a fellow out if they could, but not exactly ready to hit the soup kitchen anytime soon either. I am constantly looking for inspiration, hoping I don't have my head up my ass on the day it comes knocking at my door. So far, I think I have about a child's grasp on the whole thing. I will give up something that is enjoyable but once Easter hits, I know I can always get it back. 

I'm not sure if this is a rant or a question. I can say that if I had money to give, a hand to lend, time to spend, I certainly would. But then again, if I had all that, would it really be a sacrifice?

Bitch Slapped by the Universe

Nothing can prepare you for it. The inevitable day when your child's poo goes everywhere. I think I have officially seen it all. I've survived the up-the-back and out-the-sides jobs of thebreast milk poop. I've cleaned up the-baby-just-figured-out-how-to-undo-her-diaper poops. The sick-in-the-middle-of-the-night-and-pooped-on-my-leg poop. How could I forget the potty-training-missed-the-target poo?

Tonight was a rare moment. Since we are in the early stages of potty training, I've slacked off buying diapers. Really it's probably a subconscious desires to speed up the process along paired with the fact that I like to put a little bit of pressure on myself but for whatever reason, I was down to four diapers. That would not normally be a big deal but as Murphy's Law dictates "Anything that can possibly go wrong, will."

So it stands to reason that all of the Universe working in harmony was guiding me towards the convergence of only four diapers, meets unexpected diarrhea, meets one functioning vehicle, meets husband working late. Ladies and gentlemen, I had what can only be described as a Shit Storm tonight. There were poo puddles on the carpet, the steps, and poo smears on the wall. I am out of diapers. The baby is going to sleep in the bathtub. I am going to sleep at a hotel.

The  moral of this story is: the next time you tell someone you "feel shitty" or have had a "shitty day" I beg you to really think about what you're saying. It is doubtful that you could be dealing with more shit than me.

Bad Joke

Older folks in this town think it's funny to tell this old standby:

If you don't like the weather, wait 5 minutes!


I am so tired of this most changeable Midwest weather. Besides the fact that I have to have both summer and winter clothes on hand at all times and have to prepare to drive in road conditions ranging from sleet to snow to rain, I think I am getting stress headaches from it. I wake up in the morning and look out the window to see a nice sunny day only to walk out into a wind chill of 15 degrees. Yesterday it was 64 and today it's 31. It is so disheartening. I am not one who believes in bundling up either. I'll just wait it out like a hermit inside my house while I play "thermostat Nazi" with my husband. "Really hon? You thought it was a better idea to crank the heater to 75 degrees rather than just put on some socks?"

And that is just winter. Wait for the summer! Blistering heat, humidity in the 90th percentile. My air conditioner runs from dawn to dusk. The grass can get so dry that they have to issue fire warnings to people who have backyard barbecues. The kind of hot where you can burn the bottoms of your feet on the sidewalks if you go barefoot. I have to slather myself with 60 proof sunblock for an afternoon out. My Grandmother tells stories of her childhood before central air when people could actually die from exposure. I ask her why she stayed?

I watch the Weather Channel with envy as they scroll cities like San Diego, Key West, Honolulu. You people make me sick. When can I come for a visit?

I Guess I Hate EVERYBODY...

...Or at least that is what I am being told constantly by my 5 yr. old. According to her:

• I hate her because I make her take a time out.when she won't pick up her mess.
• I hate her because I won't let her graze through the kitchen cupboards and refrigerator.
• I hate her because I won't buy her "Megamind".
• I hate her because I make her take a bath when she would rather watch TV
• I hate her because I make her eat vegetables that she does not like.
• I hate her because I make her go to bed when she is not tired.
• I hate her because I won't let her go to school in short sleeves (it's currently 29 degrees outside).
• I hate her because I make her clean the cat litter box (okay, maybe that is a little hateful).

"I feel like you don't even CARE about me!"

Baby girl, I think I care too much. 

Am I Blowing It?

Everyone has heard that there was a time in the distant past where life was simpler, kids had manners, couples lived happily ever after...I think it might have been in a Disney flick. But seriously, even I remember as a kid I knew what I could get away with and what I could not. I might have daydreamed about my parents crying their eyes out when I was found and taken away by my REAL (royal) family or them beating themselves up when I went blind from some punishment I thought was terrifically unfair, but I never cussed my mom or slammed a door in my dad's face (until I was at least a high schooler)!

So I guess I don't know what I am doing wrong then? I don't get why my girls are so sassy and disobedient. Am I that bad of a mom? Let me tell you, aside from a few spankings, these kids worst punishment is no TV. Yet nothing seems to have a lasting impact. It's like trying to train retarded puppies. The word NO has lost it's punch a long time ago. Today I had to scream like a maniac in my driveway as the toddler went walking toward the street, but not before looking over her shoulder to give me a knowing smile. Yeah, she heard me telling her no and kept on going. Then later as I was passing out dinner dishes, the preschooler snatched her bowl out of my hand because she was mad that I was going to turn off her program. Seriously! I lost it. You would too, don't lie.

So far we've not had any trips to the principal's office, but in checking my daughters "take home" folder, there was a note regarding parent-teacher conferences. Apparently Spring conferences are voluntary so you don't need to schedule one unless you want to. Or unless the teacher specifically requests one. Guess which category we suddenly fall in?

-Mama B

It's The Very Least I Could Do

 I am living in the constant cycle of barely keeping up. I love to tackle new projects, like this blog for instance, so that I can feel like I've accomplished something today. Although in reality I have 4 or 5 blog posts that I've started but not finished....

I wonder if I could ever allow a housekeeper into my life even if I could ever afford it? I would have to clean the house first before I could let someone in to "clean my house". That sounds like the voice of insanity but I think you would agree that if you are a less than stellar homemaker, you don't want to advertise it, even to someone you pay to cover up your shortcomings.

 I have piles of laundry, a lot of which I'm not sure where it came from. No one seems to wear any of these clothes but since they have taken up residence on the basement floor, I don't have the guts to disrupt them. I'm a little afraid there is a laundry monster living in among the heaps.

 I also have a dishwasher. It doesn't work. I spend an awful lot of time washing dishes by hand. We are an eating-in-front-of-the-TV kind of family so I've found utensils and dishes in every room where there is a TV. Unfortunately we don't have a TV in the kitchen where I wash things so I spend an awful lot of time tracking down dirty dishes before they can be cleaned.

I have one crappy vacuum cleaner for a 2-story home.  It is never where I need it to be when I want to vacuum. Some days I think there might be more dirt and crumbs than carpet. I have fantasy's about getting a Dyson and a Shark Steam Mop for each level of house.

I don't even consider dusting. Please.

Oh and in case you were thinking, "God, lady! Get off of the computer and go clean something already!" Did  I forget to mention that we also have a third child? A 6 month old restaurant that we are trying to raise. When I am not there cooking and cleaning, I am at home doing it. Toss in two hyper little girls and well, you can imagine why I would feel like I'm vindicated if my house is a pit. Just please know if you pop over unexpectedly, I will turn off the lights and drop to the floor while hiding behind the front door and pretend no one is at home.

A List of Don'ts

A list. Of things a human being of reasonable intelligence would not think should have to be said aloud to another human being.

• Don't lick the cat.
• Don't ride the cat.
• Don't play in the cat's litterbox.
• Don't eat pennies you find on the ground.
• Don't eat gum you find stuck under a table.
• Don't suck on magic markers.
• Don't use the toilet as a swimming pool for your barbie.
• Don't hide banana peels under the bed.
• Don't take money from the collection basket.
• Don't draw on: the sheets, walls, the dining room table, the couch, the floor, your arms, legs, or face
• Don't eat lotion, chapstick, toothpaste, or A&D ointment
• Don't climb on the furniture, hang on the curtains, or stand on the counter-tops.
• Don't tell strangers they are fat.
• Don't graze the produce section of the grocery store while we are shopping.
• Don't bite into the big block of cheese then put it back into the refrigerator.
• Don't pick the neighbors newly planted flowers.
• Don't throw rocks at other people's cars.
• Don't lick the television screen.
• Don't pour a box of stuffing mix into Mama's nightstand.
• Don't sit on your baby sister.
• Don't use other people's toothbrush.

This is just my short list. I am sure there are many others. Let me know if you can think of any I've missed.

- Mama B

Talking to Ourselves

We are going through a phase - or maybe this is just how it is going to be. My husband and I often remark on the fact that we seem to be talking to ourselves. Even when we know we are within earshot of our daughters. Even when we are in plain view of them also. Heck, even when we are looking them square in the face and using words of just one syllable. Yet, we must be talking to ourselves since most of what we say seems to go unheard or unnoticed. Occasionally we throw out words like: cookie or movie just to make sure they understand us. I would worry that maybe the girls had a hearing problem but they have both been checked by professionals. What is worse is since neither of us are famous for our patience, talking to ourselves is more often yelling to ourselves. Someone once said to us, "at some point you just can't yell any louder". Which is true because, lately I am losing my voice. I have tried to whisper, the idea being that you lower your voice instead of yelling and the children are so surprised by this trick that they stop whatever misbehaving they are up to and strain to listen to whatever you are saying. Yeah right, that did not work. Mostly because I have to shout to be heard over the din. So the whisper technique is out. Next I tried the ignore thing. As in when they are shouting and jumping around for my attention I just sit back and wait for them to realize that no one is paying any mind to their antics so they get bored and stop. Again, yeah right. Ignoring them is just more fuel for the fire. As I am writing this and after asking them 35 times to pick up the mess they left on the floor, I have attempted all three methods again to no avail. But it was ever so delicious for me when they were surprised by the sound of their father coming home to watch them squeal and scramble to finish the job before he could see what they were up to. 

Yogurt

There is no food that my kids seem to go gaga over more than yogurt. This is good because it is healthy. This is also bad because they are sneaky little monkeys who will sniff out any container like a K-9 unit. I have to hide it in the darkest recesses of the refrigerator lest it gets eaten all on the day I buy it. 

So the 5 yr old (not pictured since she was the offender) who was just "not feeling up to dinner" (big eye roll), disappears afterward mumbling something about getting socks for her feet. Fifteen minutes later I am hollering up the stairs to figure out what she is really up to. Finally I hear feet on the stairs when here she comes trying to sneak past me with an OPEN yogurt container before asking "can I have this?" No, the rule is, refusal to eat dinner means, NO snacks! I won't  bore you with all of the details but you can surely guess that there was a lot of whining, pouting, and foot stomping which eventually lands her an early bedtime. When I come back into the room, here is what I find:

Well, she did eat her supper at least.

Kitty Food

Why does the baby insist on eating the cat's food? I have put it up high - she climbs up to get it. I moved it to another room, she searched it out. She grazes on any stray bits of kibble like a fat man at an all you can eat buffet. The poor cat can't get a decent meal and has to look over his shoulder to see if it is safe to eat. The really gross part is that she doesn't actually consume it. She chews it up then comes running to me squawking and wants to spit it out into my hand. I never thought I would grow up to be a zoo keeper. 

Art

No, this one is not going up on the refrigerator. Because you drew on my sheets. 

So THAT'S What The Sticky Stuff Was

Where did those Christmas candy canes go? Oh, now I see. And thank you for touching every surface in the house including the computer keyboard, my cell phone, the television screen, oh and let's not forget - your hair.

My Hilarious Day

So, I am sure today will be one of those days that will seem hilarious in 10 or 15 years but right now I could run away from home and never look back. You be the judge.

Woke up. Checked Facebook. So far so good. Got girls up, went back downstairs, got the usual breakfast request. Went to kitchen, put together some food, fed children. Nothing unusual here. Fast forward.

Now its 11:30 am, approximately 15-20 minutes before we have to leave for preschool. Get on coats, shoes, gather backpack together. Grab keys - keys? Where are the keys? Girls, have you seen the keys? What? You are pointing to the heat register that doesn't have a cover since the contractor forgot to replace it the last time he worked. No, no, nonononononononooooooo! 

Okay, regroup. Girls, go upstairs to your room and play until Mama can figure this out. 

Crap, cannot feel keys or bottom of vent. CRAP! Okay, better check on girls. Who are not in their room as requested...

Walk into my bedroom and what do my wondering eyes behold? Baby covered from fingertip to wrists on both hands with petroleum jelly! And it is smeared on the bed, floor, and sheets too. What The Hell?!?!?! Get your ass in the bathroom! Wait, what is that in the....SHIT! A whole toilet bowl filled with turds - and I might add, no toilet paper so...."L" get your ass in here!!!! Did you use the toilet and not wipe, AGAIN?? 

"No Mama" - why did I even ask? Get out of those clothes and clean your butt! Move! Now back to cleaning up the greasy ointment covered baby, wha? Hey "L"! Did you just put your naked poop covered butt on my rug??? Yep! AHHHHH!  Okay, everyone into the tub!!! 

At this point I don't really remember what happened since there was so much wailing, cursing, and gnashing of teeth - quite a bit of it from me I must say. And I am still not sure what to do about these girls hair, no amount of washing seems to get out the petroleum jelly. Now they just look like stringy haired waifs. 

So to summarize:

Car, house, amd several other keys may or may not be lost in the heating ducts. Children are covered in a thin film of grease. We missed preschool and are trapped at home until either I tear open the wall or the keys turn up elsewhere - a possibility since you cannot trust the word of a 5 year old and the baby can barely talk at all. Again, I KNOW this will all seem hilarious at some point in the future, right?

What Happens When There Is No Television?

Oh Lord! The tv is out. Why of course any well prepared mother has a slew of activities in mind to challenge and educate her offspring right? Yeah, well not in this house. I don't know, there are lots of toys and things to color on (walls for example) but something happens when there is NO television. We all get a little desperate. I am desperate! A self proclaimed couch potato, I need my fix too! It's not that I even watch it that much but I need the familiar hum, the background noise, and yes - I need Spongebob too! So I foolishly thought, "Well, the internet works, maybe there is something on it for them." And low and behold! Spongebob Squarepants on NickJr.com. Hallelujah! Except, fool that I am, left them alone with the mouse and the keyboard, because GOD FORBID they could just sit and watch the silly thing like it was a tv. That is another Mom Fail to add to the list. But, note to self: when the computer is telling you it needs to run a system recovery, don't start frantically hitting the ESC button or repeatedly pressing Enter in an attempt to stop said process. Better to just leave the room and let the computer do it's thing - after all, we both know it is smarter than you.