Get off my lawn you damn kids!

We still live in an apartment. 

Funny story:  we went to the bank to see about getting a loan to pay off some of the debt we’re in so we can one day buy a house (it’s a vicious circle, but we figured one big payment instead of 35 payments per month).  When we told the bank person we rented and how much we paid in rent, she looked at us and asked “have you considered owning?”

My husband tells me that the look on my face when she asked that was priceless.  I can tell you what was going through my head…hate, pure and simple.  As soon as she said that (with her knowing full well how bad off we are) I asked her if she would give us a home loan.  She said we’re too high risk.  At that moment I considered ways of killing her.  According to my husband, the look on my face gave this fact away…noticeably.

Our meeting ended rather quickly at that point, and as it turns out, you can’t get a personal loan without some kind of equity…like in a home.

Ha ha ha. 

Oh irony, how I love thee.

So anyway, we live in an apartment.  I was woken up at 3:30 this morning because our downstairs neighbors, who are relatively new to the building (and oh so young) (hush, I’m aware that 32 isn’t old, but I think these two are just barely legal to buy alcohol), started blaring their stereo. 

I fear that I have turned into the kind of neighbor who will go downstairs and pound on their door and demand that they turn the radio down.  I’m already dressed in my crazy finest (in case you were wondering, Nightmare Before Christmas pajamas, fuzzy slippers, and a blue zip up hoodie.  The rat’s nest that is my hair really seals the deal, along with the remainders of the mascara I couldn’t get scrubbed off and need a sandblaster to remove).  Mostly I’m afraid they’ll wake the baby.  I could really care less if they have a radio on or not.  Except that the place where the music is originating from is right below my son’s room.  I heard the music and lyrics quite clearly from my room…and the living room.  When I walked into my son’s room I felt like I was at a concert. 

Yet the child hasn’t stirred yet.

Maybe I won’t have to be the crazy fist shaker after all.  That would be nice.

Wow

Ok, so I’ve been busy.  Very, very busy.  I’m sure the five two of you who were reading this anyway are intrigued.

So, I had the baby.  A boy, we named him Logan.  He’s adorable and perfect and everything I could have hoped and asked for.  I never knew it was possible to love someone so much.  With that said, he’ll most likely be our only child.  The combination of time it took for me to concieve him and the events that followed his birth mean that in all likelihood, he will grow up an only child.

I was an only child and I turned out ok…for the most part.

He came early.  He arrived on my mom’s birthday, which was just funny.  I was positive he was going to be born on my dad’s (the two are a week apart from each other) but my boy had other plans.  He was also a C-section due to his size and the fact that I was in very active labor with no progress in the dilation front.

I didn’t like the hat they put on him in the hospital so I had the hubs bring one from home, it says “mmmm…boobies.”

The nurses were more like lactation nazi’s, which doesn’t help make you comfortable.  They were sweet though, especially once the postpartum hit.  And it hit hard.  And then it took me three months to admit that it was bad.  Really, really bad. 

Really, really, really bad.

(For anyone who may be interested, I’ve been thinking about doing a full disclosure post, but since I don’t want to bore the three of you to tears or drown you in mommyhood, I haven’t decided yet.  Guess it depends on if anyone gives a rats ass.)

Anywho, I’m medicated now.  Most likely will be for awhile.  In all honesty, being on antidepressants is the first time I’ve really felt like myself since I was about 20.  I don’t feel so angry and anxious about every little thing.  I’m no longer convinced that my child, husband and family hate me.  In essence, I stopped sweating the small stuff.  Which is nice.  I like enjoying things that deserve to be enjoyed and not sending myself into a frenzy of anxiety and panic over the things that normally get worried over. 

So, he’ll be five months old the day after Christmas.  He sits up quite nicely, just started eating solid foods and is strong.  We had a scare when he was about a week old, but the test results came back ok and the doctor doesn’t seem concerned over anything when he goes for his check ups. 

I go back to school in the beginning of January, and I’m not looking forward to that.  I wish we were in a financial position for me to be able to stay home, but we aren’t.  We aren’t even really in a financial position for me to be in school, but I’ve gotten this far goddammit and I refuse to repay a loan for something I didn’t finish.  I need to get something at the end so that I can make money to repay that damned loan, and maybe get us out of the pickle we’re in right now. 

I won’t whine and complain about how hard things are, because we’re still ok.  Not great, we’re not even really staying afloat, but we have a roof over our heads and the ability to pay for extra things like cable and internet access from home, so I won’t whine.  We’re (mostly) healthy.  Granted I’ve had some health issues, not to mention a trip to a doctor that made things worse before things got better.  Got a second opinion, and that one made more sense so that doctor became my family doctor (woo hoo, lucky her!). 

I have been keeping up with what everyone is writing, I just need to be logged into WordPress to make comments and some days, that became too much effort.  Or I would go to make a comment and the baby would start to fuss or cry or required some kind of attention and when I got back to the computer my session had timed out or I forgot what I wanted to say.  I should also say that the same thing has happened when making myself a cup of much needed coffee. 

Insomnia is the only reason I’m able to make this post now.  And despite the fact that my child sleeps through the night, I refuse to take anything to help me sleep now because of everything else that I’m on (so many other things).  If he does wake up, I need to be able to get up with him and provide for him.  I’ve been on Ambien before, nothing good ever came out it. 

Ok, maybe one thing.

Signs that you may be into S&M

I’m not entirely sure though.  But, my best guess is that if you can handle this…

1. You volunteer to go out shopping with your friend, and her two small children, who don’t enjoy their stroller…at all.
2. You find out that your friend’s sister and her one small child are coming with, who also greatly dislikes his stroller…and car seat.
3. You don’t turn around and run away as fast as you can…

And if you survive those things and then end up at a Mexican restaurant where this happens…

1. The oldest of the three children (he is 4, and reminds you every 20 seconds) loudly proclaims that he will not eat the quesadilla that was ordered for him (“It’s just like grilled cheese, you love grilled cheese!”) then proceeds to throw the plate.
2. The oldest child’s brother decides he has had quite enough thankyouverymuch, and then throws his plate because he just saw his brother do it, his sippy cup and then his mother’s plate onto the floor.
3. The cousin, after witnessing the other acts of aggression, decides he wants to do this as well but luckily the adults have grown wise after two other throwing incidents.  Yet he proceeds to start screaming, loudly, in a very echo-y room.
4. You cannot order a margarita, or even a shot of tequila.

You may enjoy S&M.

I'm officially creeped out

First off, let me say that everyone needs a hobby.  People should pick the hobby that feels right for them.  Some people collect stuffed animals, comic books, figurines of their favorite things, so on and so forth.  I have nothing against people who collect or create dolls.  It is a fine hobby, if it feels right then you should roll with it.  Who am I to judge, I used to say that smoking was my hobby. 

Secondly, let me say that if you have/had problems conceiving, I feel for you.  It is a hard and awful thing to go through.  It is heartbreaking and no one should ever have to feel that kind of pain.

But…

This* just doesn’t seem right.  Maybe I’m wrong.  Perhaps I’m being too judgemental.  Stuff like this could be the reason why I’m not allowed to watch the news or read newspapers (besides the funnies). 

Realistic looking baby dolls have always kind of freaked me out.  They are right up there with clowns and snakes.  I don’t dig it.  That’s just me though.  The problem (I think) with these dolls is that they look a little too realistic.  For the love of all that is good and holy, they can have a heartbeat installed (?) in them.  Their chests rise and fall as if they are breathing.  They are anatomically correct, have veins painted in, the nails are made to look real, the hair is done in such a way to make it look more realistic and the painting process for the baby is done so that the doll looks as realistic as possible. 

Some of them are pretty cute, and apparently (I may have misunderstood what I heard) you can send pictures in and have one created just for you. 

Imagine this though:  someone has gone through a painful and heartrending miscarriage or has given birth to a stillborn.  Awful enough, but something can snap inside your mind at a time like that, no?  You can have a doll made to look like the lost child.  So, instead of trying to cope with the loss, you have a vinyl child to fill the void.  Does this seem like a good idea?  The whole idea makes me nervous.

Tell me what you think though.  I’m willing to admit that I could be wrong.

*I’m not putting pictures up because that is how much it creeps me out.  They just look too real, and it reminds me of the movie House of Wax (new version where Paris Hilton died.  I never saw the original so I have no idea how it worked it that movie) where the people looked so real because they were just being covered in wax and not created out of wax.  I don’t like it or the idea of it.

What a day

It has been one of those days folks (is it too soon in the week to say that it’s been one of those weeks?).  If it could go wrong, it kind of went wrong, or at least didn’t go the way that I had planned for it to go in my head.

6:30 am- I had to pee so that meant I had to get out of bed.  I’m going to be 30, that seems a little too old to willingly wet the bed.  I got up and while I was shuffling my way to the bathroom, trying not to open my eyes so that maybe I could go back to bed for a little longer (I’m a morning person, but I do try to fight it for my husbands sake), my cat tries to kill me.  By try to kill me I mean that she got under my feet every step I took.  This cat surfing led me to have to turn on the bathroom light so that I could see where the furball was so that I wouldn’t trip and kill myself.

6:35 am- The light went on and my brain said “Oh ok, we’re up now!  Great!”  I continued the cat surfing into the kitchen to make the coffee.  I then proceed to the living room to read my various emails and read my morning funnies.

7:45 am- I finally remembered that I had made coffee.

It should be noted in here that with my husbands job change he is working nights right now, and will be working nights once he is working on his own which will be in about a week and a half.  This sucks for me because I am a morning person, but I feel obligated to wait for him to get home before I go to bed.  This therefore is throwing off my 10:30 pm bed time.  It should also be noted that he does not expect any of this from me.

8:30 am- Watch my husband, who has just woken up, attempt to set up his new Blackberry for work.  Considering that he is technologicaly handicapped, this makes for a good time for me.  I love that I got my giggle so early in the morning. 

9:00 am- Having had enough of laughing at my husband I decide that it is time to go take a shower and get ready for my day.  Maybe I should have waited another half hour to let the second cup of coffee kick in because it was as if I had never taken a shower before.

• I decided to wash my hair with conditioner.  I couldn’t figure out what the issue was and why there was no lather today when there had been lather yesterday.  WTF!  I realized my mistake when I finally opened my eyes and looked at the bottle I had put down. 
• When I did grab and use the shampoo I did something that I haven’t done in years, I got shampoo in my eyes.  Plural.  I thought I was going to die, and if not die than definately go blind.
• Didn’t die or go blind, but cut the hell out of my ankle trying to shave.  I say ankle because after the first leg I gave up.  I then proceeded to cut the hell out of my armpits.
• I must have had a thing for the conditioner because I attempted to wash myself with it.  Again I wondered why I felt so silky smooth but had absolutely no lather.

10:00 am- After attempting to recover from the shower ordeal I took an hour off from the rest of what I usually do in the morning to stop the various bleedings.  When I did finally decide to go and put on my make up and dry my hair, it was almost as bad as the shower.  Almost.

• Stabbed myself in my still stinging eyes with my mascara. 
• Got my hair all tangled up in my brush while drying my hair.

Yeah, I was a little bit special ed this morning.

I managed to get dressed without incident.  Miracles will happen I guess.  After having such luck putting on clothes I figured it would be best to stay out of trouble and sat back down and vegged/spaced out until…

1:00 pm- I basically babysit 5 days a week, and in about a week I will be unemployed for the summer.  I pick the kids up from school because their dad is a postal worker and their mom is a kindergarten teacher.  I will be out of a job for 3 months because mom will be home.  Anyway, I went to pick the kids up and I almost got hit by some asshat in a Dodge Ram pickup truck who apparently didn’t see the bright red car right in front of him.

1:15 pm- Sitting in front of the school I had the windows rolled down even though it was humid as hell, but I didn’t want to leave the car running while I was waiting because of how much gas costs.  I overheard a conversation between two neighbors.  The one guy was pissed and I mean PISSED because the other guy was planting flowers that didn’t “go with the color theme” in the pissed guy’s yard.  I mean the one guy was really pissed, like I thought I would have to call the cops pissed. 

1:45 pm- I pick up the boy (the girl has band on Wednesday’s and dad will pick her up on his way home) and we make our way home.  I’m pulling up in front of the house and he tells me that he forgot his “homework.”  So, we turn around and go back to the school and make our way inside.  The classroom is locked.  He starts to cry about how mad his mom will be.  I go to the office to get them to unlock the classroom, and (thankfully) they do without too much question.  Yeah, his “homework” was a coloring sheet that was given to the class for fun.  I thougt it was weird since it is basically the last full week of class.  Why would they (2nd grade) get homework now?

2:05 pm- Dad gets home.  We BS for a couple minutes and I head on my way.  I have a wedding to go to at the end of the month and no longer have shoes to go with the one dress that I have and like.  Despite the day that I have had I decide to go to Kohl’s because they are having a sale. 

2:45 pm- Got stuck in traffic.  It took me half an hour to get 3 miles.  I did finally manage to get to Kohl’s and I made my way right to the shoe section.  I knew what I was looking for, sort of.  I did find something, and pretty much right away.  They were also on sale so they came home with me. 

(I’m going to be a girl for a minute:  The dress is a sort of aqua blue/turquoise, white/off white and light grey.  It’s a handkerchief hem and comes down to about the mid calf/knee area.  These are the shoes:

3:30 pm- Decide that I have wreaked enough havoc on the outside world and head home.  I decide to have breakfast for dinner (no husband to cook for) and make scrambled eggs and toast.  I proceed to burn the hell out of the toast and dry the hell out of the eggs. 

5:30 pm- Decide I am going to blog about my day up to this point and pray that death does not follow the instant I have pushed the Publish button.  Then again, I may get up to go to the bathroom and have to continue my cat surfing.  Surely she won’t continue to try to kill me.  Right?

It’s days like this that I really miss smoking.

Hilarious

One day a week my husband works late so I go over to my girlfriends house to have dinner with her and her family.  This is sort of my extended family because I have known the couple for about 15 years.  I went to visit her in the hospital the day her son was born, and so on.

Their son is turning two this February, so he’s pretty much got this whole toddler speak and thought process going on.  You can just see it working in his head when he looks at you. 

The adults are sitting at the table still eating dinner, and he’s roaming free because he was done.  Anyone with a toddler knows that it’s just easier to let them be free then to even attempt to keep them in their seat while you continue to eat.  So, he’s roaming free and just yelling “Ma!”  Kari (the mom) being the good mother she is, keeps replying “What?!”  But he just keeps calling for her.  Finally he comes into the dining room/kitchen and once again yells “Ma!”  She looks right at him and says “What?” 

(This is where it gets funny, I hope.)

At her reply, without hesitation, he says “Uh…” and looks away, sort of like he suddenly forgot what it was that he wanted from her.  He even held up a finger as if to say “Hold on, it’ll come back to me.” 

Toddlers, natures tiny comedians.