Thursday, April 30, 2009

Child Abuse! Child Abuse!

For some reason every time I take my son to the library he loses his frik frakkin mind.  Usually it is on the way back to the car.  There is something about that parking lot that I cant quite put my finger on... but what ever it is causes my boy to turn into, well, a crazed midget ninja every time.   I know 'midget' isn't nice, but he is one so there.  He is all 3 feet of crazed arms and legs trying to land a round house kick on the woman carrying a 40 pound bag of library books and a 20lb 9 month old.  As I go to strap him in the car he tries to head butt me.  Did I mention he is screaming at the top of his lungs?  Yeah, he is not going to go quietly.  When he finally does connect his foot and my face I lose my cool and start smacking his little thigh and shrilly tell him "Hitting hurts!  We don't hit!  Hitting hurts!"  Oh, yes.  I see the irony.  No need to point out the fact that I am hitting his little leg while screaming about not hitting.  But my face hurt from where he kicked me, I am sweating and there are library books strewn over the parking lot.  I am losing my shiz-niz here.  In my defense I didn't smack his little leg hard enough to leave a mark, just enough to get his attention and for him to stop kicking me and start trying to bite me.  Mmmmm, this is looking a lot worse in print... I truly am not a spanker...crap there is no making this look good.
Anyways, I finally get into the drivers seat still ranting about hitting and how we don't act that way and as I put my key in the ignition I come face to face with the woman who has parked in the space opposite mine.  She is staring in abject horror and all of the sudden I remember that poor Irish Traveler woman from years ago.  The one who got caught on the mall security cam going medieval on her kids in a van.  Oh, crap I am that woman.  I am sure she is taking my license plate number and calling protective services as I pull out.  
It is here I decided not to threaten spankings anymore...now we are going to call it Child Abusing...that's right "Don't make me Child Abuse you!"  "Son, if you hit your sister in the head I will Child Abuse you."  "If you run out into the street I will Child Abuse your bottom!"
A girl friend of mine says this way when they scream in a store- "Don't Child Abuse me!"  and run in the other direction, as you are trying to wrestle them back into the cart after they bean you in the face with a sippy cup, people will laugh instead of calling the authorities. 
All of the sudden I am feeling really sorry for that Irish Traveller chick.

We got trouble...

We got trouble, right here in River City.   Trouble with a capital T and that ryhmes with P and that stands for....Pain in my big white bahookie!  Sibling rivalry...oh, my we've got trouble all right.  Maddox is seriously having issues with a mobile little sister.  Anything and everything she touches is met with a "that's mine!"  and did I mention he likes to growl.  I'm not just talking about toys either.  I am talking everything from the vacuum cleaner to the throw pillows on the couch.  I think he is just ticked she is here.  Honestly, I expected this to happen when she came home from the hospital, not nine months later for crying out loud!  Delayed reaction much?
I would think that it was cute that he is always watching out for his sissy, except for the fact that he is always watching out for his sissy. 
 
"Don't touch that! Don't do that!  That's my Mommy!"  Oh, Lord!  What is going to happen once she starts walking?  He already whacked her in the face with a frog balloon just for moving towards it.  

Let's just go through the list of conversations that are repeatedly had with the Boy through out the day, shall we...

1.  The Sharing Talk
2.  The You Don't Hit Your Sister/Dog/Mommy Talk
3.  The Don't Scream In Your Sister's Face Talk
4.  The Where Are Your Pants Talk (A little off topic, but I have this one about 16 times a day so I thought I might throw it in there)

The poor kid spends his entire day worrying about what his sister is doing, getting, moving towards that I think he is going to, or already has had, a mental break!
Dude, let Mommy worry about sister, you worry about yourself.  For example: where the heck have your pants gone and what are you doing with that spatula?

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

My First Ever Give Away!!!

To celebrate the fact that SITS chose me as a Saucy Blog (I am overly excited here!) I decided to do my first ever Give Away and the wonderful girls at Chic Bebe Boutique were kind enough to offer up a prize!  

All you have to do is click here and go to  chicbebeboutique.com and sign the guest book (the link to that is on the far left hand side on the bottom).  Dont forget to leave a comment about their adorable products!  I will close the Give Away on Friday May 1st at 8pm and then pick a name at random and then a Chic Bebe gifty will be on its way to the winner!  Soooo excited!  Thanks to all you SITS girls for stopping by and thanks to the Chic Bebe girls for donating the prize!  

Friday, April 24, 2009

Intervention needed please.

"Welcome to Starbucks what can I get you?"

Mmmm, I'll take  a triple venti, two splenda, soy, latte and an intervention please.

Okay, so you know it is bad when your 3 year old pretends to drive his little car around the backyard while holding an imaginary cell phone to one ear and places a perfect Starbucks order to an imaginary Starbucks employee.

Yeaaaaah, I am going to want to put the phone down while driving and ween myself off the lattes.  But I warn you it isn't going to be pretty.  I am going to suffer withdrawal symptoms.  Bad.  Withdrawal.  Symptoms.  

This is seriously not my fault though!  Those Starbucks people are putting an addictive additive into their coffee.  I know what you are thinking.  Yeah, its called caffeine dummy!  No, it is more than that!  I think it is akin to crack!  Those  people are putting crack rock in their coffee!  I crave it.  My own coffee tastes nothing like it.  If I don't get it I still end up thinking about it all day.  I even have that stupid VIP card they offer.  Just so I can feel better about saving 10% when buying a $5 latte every morning after my workout!  Holy Hell, I am spending $5 every morning in addition to my gym membership!  My husband is going to kill me!

I would give up the coffee altogether but then who would take care of my children when I couldn't get out of bed?  It has gotten to the point that I drink that shiz all day long just to function.  And if the pot goes cold, well yippee we have iced coffee for later.  Oh, lord!  Is there a twelve step program somewhere?

"Hello, my name is Kari and I am addicted to Starbucks, my cell phone and the computer (damn you Facebook!).  While, I should be cleaning my house and making sure my son isn't stuffing rocks up his nose I am checking my email, drinking coffee and talking to my sister on my cell phone."

Like any good addict I am not going to go into the glass of red wine that has a standing appointment with me everyday at 5pm just so I can make it till Daddy comes home and not end up twitching and muttering to myself in the corner while my children set the house ablaze.....

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Dear Walmart,

I am writing this letter to let you know that if I didn't have to shop at your store I wouldn't.  I am feeling  malice beyond the usual love/hate relationship that I have with you normally.  Please allow me to tell you why....
It isn't enough that you never open up more than 2 lanes even though your store is slammed.  And it isn't enough that you put all the As Seen On TV stuff and candy at the cash register for my child to man handle and beg for.  Nooooooo, you went ahead and put candy, gum, and crappy toy machines at the bathrooms.  Not only that but you put the bathrooms in the TOY SECTION!!!!!

Walmart, you suck.

Obviously you have never taken a 3 year old freaky lil monkey through the toy section when he already is cranky and about to pee his pants.  Yes, he would rather pee himself if it means he can catch one more feel of that Sponge Bob toy. 

How could you?  Oh, wait....I know how you could.  Because somewhere in some glass encased office at the top of some building your Exec's are sitting there in their really expensive suit and it came to them.  

"Hmmmm, how to get more kids into the toy aisle when their parents don't want to take them?? Well hell, kids always have to pee the minute they get somewhere!!!  We'll put the bathrooms right there in the toy section!  I am brilliant!  I think I will give myself another $500 thousand dollar bonus for screwing the parents shopping at  Walmart!"

Well, if it wasn't for your really good bargains and the fact that you carry just about everything so I can do all the shopping in one go (yes, I love being able to buy my spray paint, avocado's and shotguns all at the same time) I would never see you again.  

Sincerely,
One P.O.'d Mommy

PS  
I will see you tomorrow.  I forgot to pick up toilet paper.

PSS
I still hate you.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

The Replacement

It has happened.  The thing I feared.  I am no longer the boy's BFF.  I was so touched when he looked at me with those deep brown eyes and said "Mama, you're my best friend."  I felt so special.  Yet, all at once it is gone. 
We were outside swinging on the play set (Auntie Lala- that is the rocket ship to you) and Maddox saw the kitty wander by and said,
"Hey, Linus!  You are my best friend in the whole world!"  Somehow that minimizes my best friend status.  Stinking cat.

Pee Pee Predicament

Okay, so the Boy has been using the potty for almost a year now and it has been really great to be diaper free.  I celebrated, hell, I took pictures when he first took a poop in that darn potty seat.  Why?  He was the most miserable kid when it came to changing his diaper!  I would let him get to the point where that bad boy was swinging between his legs it was so full.  I would literally have to sit on him and hear him scream bloody murder to get him to let me change it.  Freaky Lil monkey.  I mean who wants to sit in a poo filled diaper?  My son evidently.
So, like I say, I was ecstatic to be rid of the diapers.  That is to say I was ecstatic until about a week ago.  That is when Maddox started peeing the bed.  At first it was just an accident, but after the third night of wetting the bed all night long (and completely soaking through the pad that is supposed to stop this from happening) and not waking up I knew we had a problem.  So now his room smells like pee.  Fun.  I tried spraying the mattress with cleaner, sprinkling it with baking soda and nothing has worked.  But the bigger problem is Mad is no longer waking up in the middle of the night to pee.  He is sleeping right through for some reason.  Hence we are back to the Pull Ups.  Ugghh.  I am struggling with this hard core.  I feel like I am taking a huge step back here.  He knows it is not a diaper and I tell him "do not pee in this!  This is just in case you have an accident."  And he did wake up last night and go pee but that damn Pull Up was already soaked at 1am!  Why!!!  I thought it was annoying that he woke me up five times a night to use the bathroom.  Never mind that he uses it on his own all day long without me.  At night the boy wants an audience.  But this is just so much worse.  
The day I finally broke down and went to Target and bought more Pull Ups was the day he woke up having peed the bed all night long again and was so wet with pee that he had developed a rash where the elastic on his pants was rubbing.  I mean for crying out loud boy!  Don't even get me started on how he doesn't want to take a bath first thing in the morning.  Soooo, my choices are a 7 am bathtub wrestling match or smelling him and his stank (because at this point it stinks so bad it is like a separate entity and we should probably name it....I am thinking Duane sounds good or maybe Neville- those sound like nice stinky names)  until.....oh, about 10am when he finally acquiesces to being scrubbed!  Yeah, that's right, if we don't have anywhere to go some times I will let the boy smell like pee until I have had at least two cups of coffee and can face the screaming mimi that will be the morning bath. 
But, oh for the love of all that is holy, what am I going to do about the bed wetting!!!  I just know that Pull Up is going to be soaked......

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Calm and Serene? Who me?

I was having a play date with a girlfriend and her children the other day at a hellish place called Ollie Koala's (basically a local kid spot in the Chucky Cheese vein) while I tried to eat and feed my daughter my son ran around completely not listening to me.  He would not come sit down and have lunch.  I cajoled, I ordered him, I was stern.  Finally I dragged him over and listened to him scream and try to scramble out of the booth.  I knew it was just going to get worse the longer he went without food.  But does he want to stop to eat?  No.  It got so heated that I had to take him to the bathroom to talk to him.  Okay, so I talked and he screamed at the top of  his lungs and flung himself around a public restroom.  By the time he finally calmed down enough so that I could take him back to be around normal children I was an inch away from having a panic attack right there in arcade hell.   
This is not me. Panic attacks, my blood pressure rising to the point I think my head is going to explode.  Are you kidding?  When I had my daughter I had some pretty strong postpartum depression and went on Zoloft.  It helped a lot.  I stopped feeling empty and distant from my baby and felt like me again...and then the panic attacks started.  I started getting up at 5 am to work out- thinking that exercise would help release some of the tension.  Sure I fit into my pants better but I am still struggling to stay calm in the face of my son's temper tantrums or constant whining, tormenting the dog, whatever it is all while the baby is crying.  It takes everything I have to not scream most times.  
I am telling my girlfriend this as my son freaks out on our play date and she sagely tells me-

"I don't believe in calm and serene without medication"

I love her for telling me I am being too hard on myself.  So, both she and my prescribing physician tell me that I need to adjust my sense of normal.  That there is a new normal now, one that involves two kids who are needy.  One that involves twice 
the amount of laundry, dishes, mess, and attention.  That is not to say that he didn't adjust the milligrams of Zoloft I am taking, he did.  But he also let me know it is okay to want to scream and freak out on the boy when things have been especially hairy and he is out of control.  Now I just wait to see if the meds will work and try to cut myself some slack and learn how to take deep breaths again.  That is after I drag my son kicking and screaming out of Ollie Koala's with one hand while carrying my daughter and a giant diaper bag with the other.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

I gotta get me some Big Love

I was watching Oprah the other day and she was visiting the Waiting for Zion Ranch.  You know that polygamist ranch out in Texas that the government raided because of all the suspected underage marriages.  While at first the idea of polygamy is disturbing, it did get me thinking- as I folded my five hundredth load of laundry and surveyed my own little compound, which was littered with toys and magazines, the sink full of dishes and dinner waiting to be made.  I stood there all greasy and wishing for a shower, tired from dealing with a psychotic kid and a needy baby and I started thinking that it would be kinda nice to have another wife around this joint right about now.  Well certainly there would have to be some ground rules.   No long dresses and poofy hair- I don't know what that is about.  And then there is the issue of sharing my husband with another woman- hmmm, that probably should have come before the dress and the hair?  Anyways, the second wife would have to remember that I, as first wife, have hierarchy in Chez Jenkins.  Second Wife would get all my least favorite house chores- she would have to fold and put away the laundry, mop the floors and do the dishes.  ALL THE DISHES!  I on the other hand am happy to clean the bathrooms, dust, cook and basically do everything else.  But think about it- you want to go get your hair done during the week- that's fine, make Second Wife watch the kids.  You want to go out on the weekend for drinks with your girlfriends?  Vacation with your husband?  Oh, Second Wife!  
I am serious, if the mere thought of having to share my husband with another woman didn't make me want to bury him and the imaginary Second Wife under a concrete slab in the backyard I would so do it.  As it is I am thinking I am going to have to wait for someone to invent me a robot like our girl Rosie from the Jetsons.

A long time coming

I have been putting off writing this post.  I might even say that I have been too afraid to write it.  
But here it is, I am saying it out loud for the world to hear. 

 I HAVE AN EATER!  MY DAUGHTER EATS EVERYTHING SHE CAN GET HER LITTLE GRUBBY HANDS ON!  

Whew!  

I will admit that, not unlike one of those Chinese mothers from a Pearl S. Buck novel, I have worried that if I say that my child is a wonderful anything that the Gods will smite me. 

 "No, no, she is an awful eater, so skinny.  She hates everything." (Just a little protection, you know, in case those spiteful Gods exist.)

 After dealing with the starving Marvin that is my son, I am in awe of a child who actually enjoys eating.  Maddox would rather not be bothered.  If it didn't hurt to be hungry I truly believe he wouldn't eat.  In fact he largely finds any excuse not to.  I would find this strange except for the fact that my husband feels the same way.  Did I ever mention that there have been times after my pregnancies that I couldn't wear his t-shirts or boxers cause they were so small.  He's 6 foot and about 150 lbs soaking wet.  I'm 5'3'' and I couldn't get those boxer shorts above my knees.  Ouch, so not fair when your hubby's thighs are more slender than your own.  Did I also mention that he doesn't seem to age?  That he gets carded for lottery tickets.  I could buy a fifth of tequila and no one would bat an eye.  But I digress....back to my wonderful eater....
  
I worry that now that I have announced that Bodhi Mae is the best eater I have ever seen that I am tempting the Fates.  

So, with my own twisted neuroses, I am throwing caution to the wind and am going to write all about it....

Let me first say how much I love to watch her eat.  I love the little "Mmmmmm..."  sounds she makes as she stuffs her mouth full of peas and carrots.  I love that I have yet to find food that this kid will not eat.  Broccoli, collard greens, yes collard greens, asparagus, brown rice, chicken, cauliflower...the list goes on and on.  I love that when she is close to running out of food and is still hungry she squeals and starts banging her little fists on her tray until you give her more.  Did I mention that she only has two teeth?  She eats everything with only two little teeth!  
Bo refuses to be fed, she wants to do it all on her own.  And I must say she is quite adept too.  I wouldn't have believed it after Mad.  The boy who wouldn't feed himself until he was at least 2 years old.  But that girl can drink out of a water bottle and hold her own sippy cup already.  Give this child one of those Gerber cheesy puffs and she is happy.  

As a result of all this wonderful eating I have a chubby little princess.  Her chunky little butt just cracks me up as she hangs onto the side of the tub while I am getting her bath ready.  Maddox had no booty to speak of- when he was her age the skin hung off of it like a 90 year old man he was so skinny.  

It is such a simple yet amazing thing to have a kid that eats and is happy and interested in it too! I am sure my girlfriends and family are sick to death of getting phone calls that are singularly about what my daughter is eating..."Yeah, you heard me, she is eating pineapple!  I am watching her put it in her mouth by herself! Oh my god!  She just ate a carrot chunk!"  

I have been blessed.  I think that those sick and twisted gods must have given me Maddie and his sad eating habits so that I would sing hallelujah when my daughter came along.  What ever the reason I don't care!  I am thrilled to find new things to feed that kid!  Next on the menu...Thai food!