It’s that time of year when the “crud” starts making it’s way through my house on a regular basis. Usually begins with the teenagers (who I am quite certain never wash their hands at school) bring it into the house and expose all of us to it. First it’s the little ones who get it. Starts with one and by the next couple of days all 3 have it.
Now usually I am too busy to even notice whether or not I have the sniffles. Too busy opening numerous boxes of tissue and spraying everything that contains a surface, with germ killer.
I am a germ-o-phobe to begin with but mix it with any common cold “cooties” and I am in overdrive. And no matter how long I have been a mom the look of snot running down my kids faces grosses me the f@*k out!!! And I mean more then poop or puke in any form. And believe me I have seen lots of forms of poop.
Nothing like moving along throughout your day and then BOOM!!! The sickness comes on like a ton of bricks and you are down for the count.
Usually one calls in sick when feeling this way but as a mother of 3 toddlers and a wife of a hard working husband there is no calling in sick for me. (Wonder if calling in dead is an option)
Note to my readers: This blog entry is rated R therefore if you don’t want to read R rated material….carry on with whatever you were doing before visiting my blog :))
I love sex just as much as the next person. Even being 41 years old, having 5 kids, and a prescription for zoloft, I still enjoy sex.
Now my husband and I have been married long enough that yes we like to bring some “creativity” into the bedroom. We have an entire army issue sized box full of all the items to feed that creativity. I mean come on can you ever have too much porn? And every time I think I have one of the latest and greatest toys another one hits the market. Although I must admit that my latest love affair is with the “magic wand”. Look it up ladies…I highly recommend.
<—looks like this
And if it is discovered by your children or anyone else who may come across it, just simply tell them it’s your new back massager. But I would suggest just putting it under lock and key when done with it. Wouldn’t want the kids running around and singing into it like it’s the latest toy microphone. Or god for bid any in-laws getting a hold of it((quivers at the visual of that)). Couldn’t even imagine why they would be wondering around my bedroom but you just never know. Reason why we invested in a large storage bin, that locks, to keep all our stuff safe and secure so there is no having to explain anything…well except when the kids ask what’s in the box. “None of your business” is my best answer.
<—looks just like this
So just like every married or long term relationship couple there comes a time when sometimes it takes a little more fuse to light the fire. Sometimes it even takes an absolute torch to get it there. Other times it comes on like an inferno and ends up as a quicky in the closet (pretty sure this is how our second child was conceived). But I say that as long as it is STILL happening then who cares HOW it is happening?
Here is where it is going to get a bit R rated…first let’s talk about “whiskey dick”... oh wait…I have no criteria on that subject. My husband does not suffer from that problem what so EVER!!! As a matter of fact he is just the opposite. Could go for hours. Me on the other hand am just not into a marathon of all night sexcapades. Especially when sometimes sex with my husband when he’s “under the influence” is somewhat like having sex with a stranger…like seriously he has been abducted by aliens and this body that looks like my husband has the mind of “Mr. Grey”. And not that it’s a bad thing but I would just prefer to try some of that stuff when sober please ((cracks whip on table)).
Another thing that still stumps me is why they have not invented any kind of “horny” pill for women??? Men have Viagra <—so where is women’s form of that? Cause let’s face it women have a much more difficult time getting “in the zone” then men do. Sometimes by the time my husband has reached 3rd base I haven’t even gotten up to bat yet. So why shouldn’t we have a little magic pill to take? And what’s with all the commercials about sex being painful when you get “older”? I don’t care about that…I care about the here and now while every thing still works like it’s suppose to!!! In the words of my 80 year old grandmother (may she rest in peace not reading my blog) she said “Use it while it works because when it doesn’t you will miss it”.
I woke up this morning to the sound of the rain. I love the sound of rain…probably because I live in Nevada and we don’t get much rain here. Although I have seen al lot more since moving to the northern part of the state.
Now I am a spring and summer girl at heart…there’s nothing like the feeling of sunshine on my face and everything blooming…for some that brings the feeling of itchy, watery eyes and a runny nose but luckily for me I don’t suffer from allergies.
But there is just something spectacular about the feelings of fall and winter. Pumpkin lattes and big comfy clothes. Extra blankets on the bed and the heat of a fire on the tip of your toes. Cuddling with my littles watching movies we choose. Holiday parties and better yet…holiday booze. And by parties I mean getting all the family together and consuming alcohol and food while playing whatever board games we can find all the pieces to. I bet you thought I had this glorious life where I was invited to all these fabulous holiday cocktail parties ….nope ….not me…not this life.
And whoever thinks a holiday party week is a good thing…should maybe check out an AA meeting…I mean I like my cocktails but partying everyday for a week? That didn’t even happen in my 20’s.
Aaaah the holidays…where families come together and torture one another…where you try to watch what you say in fear you might piss someone off. Then I just get tanked and end up saying it anyway ….((burp)) oops. Those movies that have been created out of entire “family reunion” topics were created for a reason…to show people that families aren’t the picture perfect portrait that hangs on the wall. And the ones that are claiming to be perfect need to have their heads examined. That’s like organized religion…tread carefully. Not lightly….carefully.
Now I love Thanksgiving but it is so much work for the women of the house. Whether that be just the mom, the mom and daughters, or the grandmothers, moms, AND daughters. Regardless of how many are helping, it is always so much work. Maybe in other families the men pitch in but not in my family. The men plant their asses on the couch to watch the Thanksgiving Day extravaganza of football while the ladies in the house prepare the never ending smorgasbord of goodies that start at what seems like the crack of dawn and doesn’t end until the last piece of silverware is washed. ((note to self…get paper plates and plastic silverware))
So here we are for our first Halloween in the new house and I am über excited!!! I have waited until today to put up our decorations in fear that the dreadful W word would blow them away…I don’t dare even say that word on this glorious day.
(our skeleton man)
So earlier in the month I went out to the garage to get my “Halloween” bins only to find that somewhere in our moving across state the Halloween decor had been dumped out and replaced with my toddler’s TOYS!!! How the heck did that happen? The good news to this was that they were like brand new toys to the kids and they unloaded the bins into their bedrooms and I didn’t hear a peep for hours. ((Happy happy mommy)) Of course now it’s just more toys for this mommy to step on, pick up, and throw away.
Now before I had children I wasn’t into decorating for Halloween because A: It was pointless being that I had no kids and B: I lived in a neighborhood where we NEVER had any trick or treaters. Therefore I would just attend my friends yearly Halloween parties drinking myself into an oblivion and spend countless Sunday’s in October curled up watching tv with a hangover …fun times ((sarcasm)).
(The one man graveyard)
The fun times are now that I have kids. I love watching Halloween excitement through their eyes. From the moments the boxes of ordered decor arrived it has been a constant “How many sleeps until Halloween?” Their little minds just don’t understand that mommy’s powers, as great as they are, cannot make the day come any faster.
So the day is finally here…they woke me up with screeches of excitement about “no more sleeps!!! Today’s Halloween!!!” We finished up our decorations, we carved and decorated pumpkins, and we got ready for our evening out. This is the first year that 2 of my 3 toddlers really got the whole idea of Halloween. We weaved our way in and out and up and down the streets…moving from house to house as I sent my little people to the front doors of decorated houses in search of a candy treat. So many people and so much commotion going on. Every once in awhile I would watch them and they couldn’t see me and this little wave of panic would rush over their faces and they would call out “MOMMY!” like I somehow was going to disappear on them in the night.
Now my 3 old daughter loves to watch and see mildly scary stuff such as watching Coraline and any Tim Burton film I own or sitting with me while I skim through Pinterest looking at Halloween ideas…she absolutely LOVES to do that.
(the bodiless headsman)
My son on the other hand…once it got completely dark, wanted to come home “cause his feet were tired” as he was spooked by every person in a costume, who walked by. So we made our way back through some streets and found our way home safe and sound something that this mommy is so very thankful for. That and I got lots of “I love you mommys” with sparkles of a successful Halloween gleaming in their eyes. Or maybe that’s just the early stages of a sugar coma coming on….
(Cat in the Hat and Tigger too)
(Cat in the Hat and my skeleton)
I do not understand why bedtime for toddlers has to be such an ordeal every night. First it’s the fighting about it’s time for bed (let’s take a bath will be a whole other blog). Then after chasing my 3 toddlers all over the house just to get them in their pajamas, hair combed, and teeth brushed, finally the nightly ritual begins.
First it’s the location of the “special” blankets. I get it…I was a kid once too…we all had that one special item that we could not part with at bedtime under any circumstances WHAT…SO…EVER! So, frantically skimming through the house I go in search of the very items that they themselves should not have lost sight of in the first place. (I seriously never remember me “LOSING” track of my special item, and then my grandmother running around the house like a lunatic at bedtime looking for the very item I should have kept track of myself). But once again I choose my “battles” and carry on turning everything in my path upside down to locate my children’s night time shield against everything scary that phases them.
I tuck them in, kiss their forheheds and….come on who are we kidding here? Is that really how you tuck your kids in? If you say yes I call bullshit or you just have a very “rare” child..maybe only child but…kudos for your nightlife. And in nightlife I mean the fact that you used to have a life at night and now motherhood has created a night that’s your life.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
I am sure that any mother can relate to the constant use of the word “mommy” “mom” “ma” “mother”and “mama” in which our children like to use over and over and over again…
I remember when my first baby was born and I could not wait to hear that word. From the time he started babbling I started tying to get him to say mama…of course he said dada first…but patiently I waited and finally one day that life changing word braised across my ears…”mama”
Now it’s years later… and 3 toddlers and the use of that word have become as common in this household as the air in which we breath. And quite frankly has lost it’s lusteur. If there is one thing my kids are consistent at it is the use of that word. Sometimes to the point that makes me want to run to the very back of my closet and hide…only they would still find me there or call out the word until finally I had no other choice but to answer them.
I have tried, on many occasions, to tune then out with no avail…ignoring them has yet to work either because they just become little monuments of loudness and the sound literally pierces my eardrums. (And I used to be the lead singer of a punk rock band in which my eardrums withstood nightly beats of loud music) But nothing compares to the screeching sound of a child screaming out “MOMMY” when they think mommy isn’t paying attention. As I sit here in this very moment writing this blog and trying to concentrate I have been interrupted so many times that I have lost all hope of finishing a thought let alone this blog entry.
To only add to the madness my 3 year old prefers to call me just “mom” which wouldn’t be a problem other then the fact she sounds like a 13 year old referring to her mother instead of the sweet innocence of a 3 year old saying it. Did I just put sweet innocence and 3 year old in the same sentence?
Now you might be one of those mothers or fathers or however you refer to yourself to a child, that thinks the sounds of little ones voices are like magic tones of colors bouncing off rainbows and well good for you…I am a mother who rarely hears the sounds of silence in my crazy house of 7 people. Sometimes, when on trips to the local grocery store by myself I don’t even turn on the radio because these days those short trips in the car are about the only sounds of silence this mommy gets to enjoy.
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I have come to the realization that it is time for me to get on the healthy track because who wouldn’t want to be cute and sexy and fit in the clothes that have been hoarded in my closet long before the days of having babies? It’s a never ending cycle really…lose a few pounds, fit in those jeans you love (when I say fit I mean trying to jump into them from a second story window and then doing 20 or 30 squats to try and get them lose enough to breath) eating with such said jeans on, is of course, not an option. Then I decide that the jeans are over rated and so is this whole idea of trying to be skinny so onto the hanger go the jeans and off to the store in my favorite sweat or yoga pants I go to obtain all the beer, wine, and goodies that I can fit into one basket. The next morning the scale is my worst enemy and the cycle starts all over again.
So here I find myself at the gym again skimming through Pinterest while passing the dreadful 20 minutes of the treadmill when something catches my eye. What is this? A diet for 3 days that can help me lose up to 10 pounds!!! Is this for real? And of course in the midst of my excitement I find myself missing a step and having to push the emergency stop button on the machine. After recovering myself from complete and utter treadmill failure I continue to read about this glorious 10 pounds in 3 days diet…cause let’s face it anyone can stick to anything for 3 days right?
Well here I am in the middle of day two and the children are still alive and my husband,lucky for him, is getting ready to go to work. I haven’t had any caffeine which for this mother of 5 means that someone’s white shirt will soon be pink and the milk will switch places with the cereal and find it’s resting ground in the cupboard and at sometime before the end of day I will be shuffling around in a manner in which resembles one of those walker characters on the “Walking Dead”. I also am not allowed any alcohol which means after my long day of 3 toddlers when usually I would draw a bubble bath and pour a glass (very large glass in which holds half a bottle) of wine and slip into what feels like a small coma, instead I will be trying to find something to do, which lastnight consisted of thumbing through food recipes on Pinterest only to make me realize even more the sacrifices I am making for these 3 days.
Do I feel better? Have I lost any weight? Am I hungry? The truth is I have no energy and I am quite certain that I burned off every calorie consumed yesterday at the gym and couldn’t even finish my routine due to utter exhaustion. I refuse to get on the scale even though it feels like a giant elephant in the bathroom, and although I am not hungry, per say, every time I open the refrigerator I see every bit of everything that looks good including the wilted lettuce that is probably a day away from being mush which sits right next to the cold beer that looks like it has a light layer of frost on the bottle which I know is just my alcohol deprived mind playing tricks on me. But I go on looking forward to my next meal (although I don’t call two hotdogs and a cup of broccoli a meal) and in looking forward to I mean checking and rechecking the diet list for day two which never changes no matter how many times I look at it.