Summer - I hardly knew you.

Summer came...and summer went. Bubba mastered the potty and now sports all kinds of cool undies (and thankfully he has stopped yelling about pooping on the potty to every stranger we meet). We survived a 3 day drive back to Ohio for a family visit and then a 3 day drive back - but just barely. Hubby and I both survived our HS reunions separately (his in Hawaii and mine in Ohio). Sassy spent the summer whining and kvetching about her extreme boredom and asking me every 20 minutes for a piece of gum...or if George could play...or some other incessant annoying stupid shit over and over until I would scream. She also made sure to not let me waste any time napping. Tiny made sure that I never fully entered REM sleep at night. He also surprised us with a bad reaction to fire ant venom and had a quick trip to the ER. One call to Poison Control for eating my deodorant. Amusing attempts at going in a little potty (totally his idea). Several peeing accidents (these can be dangerous because he usually slips in them and splats onto his back on the tile floor). He even had the nerve to pee on my leg while I was in the potty.
I have struggled with some health issues. The blog has been put on the back burner (with so many other things). I hope to get back to writing soon.
My babies give me lots of material :-).

Neglect

I have neglected you Blog. I am overwhelmed and overtired. This week is full of obligations and demanding To Do lists.
Tomorrow Sassy graduates from Kindergarten. Her school is very high maintenance and this is a BIG DEAL. Argghhh.
The Moms today were all a twitter with "What are you going to wear?"
"SHIT" I screamed inside...
I was just hoping to get all three kids there without someone having a leaky diaper or wearing their clothes backwards.
I made a cheeky comment that as long as no one has used my shirt as a napkin, then I am dressed up.
Nervous laughter from the Moms.

I make them nervous.

I don't care...I am tired and my eyes are bloodshot and sometimes on the way to school I worry that I have forgotten someone at home...then I wonder if it is me...

After being told by a surly Hubby that if I am tired I should go to bed earlier, I decided to keep track of how many times Tiny interrupts my sleep at night.

Apparently he is training to work in a P.O.W. camp.

I put a piece of paper and a pen next to the bed. Every time he woke me up I would groggily scratch a line in the paper's direction...

After a very restless nights sleep where I woke up not sure if I was still in a dream, I counted 8 scratch marks.

EIGHT!

From 10pm until 6am Tiny woke me up 8 times!

So for those of you doing the math- that works out to ONCE EVERY HOUR.

So Dear Blog, please forgive me if I forsake you... Let's hope that I am just off getting some Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzs.

Holy-Tie-My-Tubes-Monday

The three year old is in the midst of learning to use the potty. We don't potty train in this house - we potty encourage. Let the kid decide when they are ready to use the potty- less psychological damage that way. So, basically the rest of us are stuck here in Poopacalypse, mainly me, but I take weekends off. Seriously, No shit!

For those of you that aren't counting - this means two people who need their arses wiped and diapers changed on a regular basis. Occasionally, the five year old throws in a few accidents just to keep it interesting.


We have battled a bit with the three year old (hencetoforth to be known as Bubba) over whether or not he should wear diapers or pull-ups. His Dad is not keen on the idea of Bubba wearing underwear and having accidents in his underwear- especially the poop kind. His Dad has put underwear over the boy's diaper...I am still flummoxed over this...


So, here it is Monday (it has taken me awhile to get over the shell shock and write about this). Tiny (the one year old) and I are downstairs making lunch, Bubba is upstairs playing.

Several times I have yelled up the stairs that he needs to change his pull-up... Several times I have done the time remaining (you parents out there know what I mean... 5 minutes until blah blah)... He has responded with his usual stubborn Bubba screech/growl... Usually one ends up hollering and shouting and showing off their counting skills with this one (The Count-up - either counting to a certain number or in our very cerebral house The Countdown 5...4...3...2...1! Blastoff!). Bubba is STUBBORN!


Finally after all of this and threats of no DVD in the car, etc., Bubba appears downstairs and sheepishly admits that he has changed his pull-up.

Success!

At this point we are running late to go pick up Sassy (5 year old) from school.

I hate being late and my kids hate getting out the door on time.


I rush upstairs to find Tiny's missing shorts.


*Gasp*


*Sputter*


SCREAM!


I am sure that the expletives I uttered were rich and thought provoking.


POOP!!

All over the beige carpet...

dirty wipes scattered everywhere.

I see red...errr...actually brown.


I holler for Bubba and once I realize that the offensive pull-up is missing I get very insistent that he tell me EXACTLY where it is... His demure whispers of "I just don't know..." Infuriate me... This interrogation will get worse if YOU DON'T TELL ME WHERE IT IS! NOW! NOW! NOW!


I think that perhaps smoke is pouring out of my ears.


I run around looking in each room and then finally go into MY room...


POOP!!

Everywhere...

all over MY bed...

Dirty wipes all over MY bed...

smears all over the beige carpet...


WHY?!


WHY?!


WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS?!


WHY MY BED?!


WHY?!


This is what I scream to my poor little, crying, Bubba.


Not very AP (Attachment Parenting) of me. At. All.



I am now very humbled by my behavior and ashamed. I did not spank him (we never hit our children). But I hit him with my yelling. I am very sad about that. We have apologized to each other. I have hugged him, and praised him and told him that accidents happen. We have come up with a plan for next time...

My behavior did not follow our house rules: "Be Safe. Be Kind. Be Respectful."

I just snapped. Poop decorating just pushes me over the edge... I am flawed. I am human.


Sassy has offered to teach me some breathing exercises to calm down...

But Bubba owes me, big time. And when he is older i will regale him with the story of

"Holy-Tie-My-Tubes-Monday"...

I am sure that his cute little girlfriend will enjoy the story as well. *smirk*

The Web

Sometimes it is hard to grasp the now. The is.
I always, always, wanted to be a Mother - never a question.
It would be the brass ring.
But you never know the ins and outs, tastes and smells until you experience it for yourself.

I adore them.
My kids.
I cannot imagine my life without them...
Sometimes I wish that I could erase my life before them.
I am a better person because of them - as cheesy and corny as that sounds. In a way I am better to me as well. It is kind of a tightrope act trying to fulfill your own needs while putting the needs of EVERYONE else first. Sometimes you get lost in that role.
But, they have preserved me.
I don't take risks and I don't practice (too much) self destructive behavior. Unless you count neglect (because if everyone else is first then that would make me...last).
Sometimes it can be painful.
If I think about the before kids I can get tangled in the mess that was me, that I cannot ever change no matter how much I want to wish it away...

It is in those times that a snuggle, tickle, Ewok/Jabberwocky conversation with the baby can help center me. I hold him close and nestle my nose into his downy hair and breathe in slowly, telling myself:

You are here.

You are safe.

You are strong.

You are good.

It is Now.

This Is.

zzzzzzzz

Please, pretty please, with sugar on top...











I would just like a FRACKING NAP!



Is that too much to ask?

Creative Juices

Wow...I really thought that I would do more writing on my blog. I basically write a long, disjointed, random blog on Facebook every day. But - people actually read that.

As I said before. I am not quite sure why I am writing this blog in the first place. Perhaps I am getting my creative juices flowing again so that I can write a book. Can you hear me laughing?! I have 3 kids under the age of 5 and they are a HANDFUL! Cannot imagine having time to write a book, let alone a blog. However, I did recently buy 2 books with the thought of using them as research for a future book.... I also have a website in development that has hit a ridiculous snafu that is either going to require taking some serious computer formatting classes or shelling out some cash. I am betting on the latter...

Hubby thinks that I need to write a bestseller so that I can continue to keep my kids in private school... I really want to like Public School and I really think that they should be better and everyone should go, yada yada yada. BUT, I am not fucking up my kids to make a point. I have found that private school teachers actually give a shit and like your kid. Seriously, my kids psyche is not going to be put in the hands of some tenured piece of shit burned out teacher who hates kids...

Shit.

Better get to writing.

That'll Learn Ya!

The Hubby just called semi frantic. He was sent off to Sassy's soccer practice with all 3 kids because I have a fracking community garden meeting that I need to attend (snore).

I have been prepping Sassy to get ready for an hour before the time that they should leave (she is resistant and sloooooow).
Packed the bag with water bottles, cleats, soccer balls, etc.

Normally when The Hubby goes out with the kiddos he will grab one of the super-cool, super-hip My Royal Heinie Wallets http://www.myroyalheinie.com/shop/the-wallet.html (He likes the Traffic one and I like the Cammando one, go figure).
I bought 2 because they are awesome and they were on sale (no I am not getting any kick-backs for this stellar review, darnit!). These can fit a few diapers, money, credit cards, small lip gloss, iPhone, and they have a built in wipes compartment (SO much JOY in one place! Try to contain yourselves).
I also like to attach those stinky poo bag dispensers (yes you can use the dog poo ones in fact) to them for those always inevitable inconvenient embarrassing colossal public diaper blowouts.

Guess what he forgot?


Both boys are in diapers.

Bubba, the 3 year old, is "trying" to advance to underwear...but someone keeps screwing up this process by allowing him to wear his underwear on the outside of his diaper rather than on its own!
WTH?
...but that is another post altogether.

SO... Somehow, since his daily poo was out of the way (nasty clean-up done by yours truly), Bubba convinced Daddy to let him wear underwear outside of the house (this is BIG)!

Daddy did not bring a change of clothes nor the heinie wallet.


So I don't know if he called to vent, to be rescued, to pretend ineptitude so that he is never sent out with the kids alone again...


But I had to bit my tongue so hard not to say his usual reply to any situation that I find myself in:


"Okay (either with a period or a question mark)"

or

"What do you want me to do about it?"

or my FAV:

"I don't know."


Instead I offered a few pointers.
I tried to suggest a few places that changes of clothes and extra diapers and wipes might be stashed in my giant metal diaper bag/closet/playroom/salon/restaurant/van...

Then I sighed and politely said:

"That'll Learn Ya!"

The Mall AKA Hell

Well, really, it wasn't that bad. Getting out of the house, though, is ridiculously, insanely, slow and difficult on the weekends. It is the Hubby's fault. He is not as used to maneuvering around with three rambunctious kiddos as this hardened veteran Mama.
I have the diaper bag packed, diaper changes, missing shoes, bathroom protests, snacks, threats of no video in the car, get your water, we are leaving right now with or without you for the love of god!
Down!
Piece. Of. (exasperating). Cake.

So...anywho. I had recovered from the body numbing painful two day flu and was ready for battle- err- shopping. We had a mission= PJs, and we were gonna do it fast and sweet.

I was lucky enough to get a shower (those of you fellow Mamas out there know the luxury of a few minutes of peace in a nice hot shower without having to put the big kids in front of the TV with a snack and a bribe/threat and the baby in some contraption right outside the shower and sing to him the whole time or beg and cry to please just give Mama a freakin' break and let her wash the mucous from your runny nose out of her hair for the love of god!).

Then I decided that since we were in a hurry and on a mission I should skip any type of primping (hahahaha!) and go au naturale.
I mean, wow!, a clean shirt that had not (yet) been used as a napkin, and contacts in!
Woo-hoo!
HOT MAMA (not!).


The mall felt like High School all over again... People all pimped out giving me that judgemental look... and, yes, just like High School, I was twitchy, and paranoid, and self conscious...

But it also felt like a pinball machine and I was the little ball zig-zagging around (trying to avoid those horrible makeover kiosks)... After the flat iron guy tried to get me to let him tame my (ridiculously) frizzy hair and the Pro-active lady started toward me - I was just DONE!
I basically RAN through the cosmetic section of a department store while the women working at the various booths sucked in their breath in horror at my appearance.
I loudly proclaimed to my Hubby (dutifully trodding behind with the kids happily bouncing along next to him) that this was like HELL to me and why did we have to walk through this section?!


Our mission was accomplished.
PJs purchased.
Kids had a good time.
I had material for a blog posting - good day had by all.

Anyway... I am a Mom of 3 under the age of 5... I am a tad bit frazzled... And, baby, I sure do look the part!

Deal. With. It.

The title goes here

I have been staring at this empty blog page for a few days now. Not only do I apparently have an inability to finish things it seems that I have an inability to start them.

Too much pressure. I am fascinated by (some) blogs. The seeming ease with which people can express themselves. I have also thought that blogs seem very narcissistic. Seriously who the hell wants to read another mom blog? Maybe I should have a blog for family members where I can share the goings on of my kids and the millions of pictures that I take of them? Maybe I should have an anonymous blog where I can complain and cuss and diss people as much as I please? I am envisioning a hodge podge of all of that (with specific names, etc. changed to protect the dissed).

I am still troubled by the classification of my blog and honestly my ability to write anything remotely interesting or entertaining...

Well I suppose that it is much like TV...If I bore or offend then you can choose to simply turn me off. This blog is called TMI Mama (Too Much Information for those of you that are slow) - so you have been warned!

This is my first post...It is a start and now that I am over that hump = let the blogging begin!