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!