Merry Christmas, Happy New Years, and If I don't see you? Goodnight!

Ah, not really. I'm hoping to be back to blogging before too long. It's been a couple of weeks, and I've been feeling groggy/sleepy/sloppy/sandy-ish as of late. It's the winter time, or really, the lack of winter time, I suppose. I've always wanted to move south the avoid the cold and snow and ice, but now that Ohio is struggling to get it so far this year, I kinda really miss it! We're less than a week from christmas, and it doesn't even feel like it. I'm still rushing like a panicked maniac, but it still hasn't hit me that we're just days away from the big day.

It's the no-snow! Wow. I never, EVER thought I'd say that I miss the snow. All I see is gray, mud and rain. Warm temps. I feel like it's March, and I'm cranky because winter was too long, and I'm ready to see spring already. The whole inch of snow we got a few days ago was GOLD. I miss it already. sniffle.

I really don't have a whole lot to say tonight. For once, I have just about everything I need done for Christmas, done. It's a good feeling. I don't know HOW I pulled it off this year, and I'm real excited about it. I'm just waiting on the snow. Yeah! Snow! C'mon!

oops.

Hey guys, goodnight. I promise next time, I'll make it up to you. Promise.

Time to Get Romantic?

Look. I've had a dog almost all of my life; growing up, we had Lady dog, and then I bought this little chihuahua for my mom, and we named him Squirt. (ok, SHE named him Squirt. I wanted to name him Batman.)

We just adopted our first family dog back in October. A dog for my kids to have and love and take care of, and dammit, they do a GREAT job of it, too. Her name is Maebe. She's a sweet little thing, a bit timid around men, but she does good.

I've learned one VERY important thing when it comes to having a dog.

If you decide you want to get... ahem... "romantic" with your husband, wife, significant other, do NOT let the dog into the room with you.

I didn't KNOW this! See, I lived at home with my parents when we had our other dogs, so I wasn't exactly "gettin' bizzay" at any time, plus, I never let the dogs sleep in my room anyway. I had a waterbed. Do you know how hard it is to sleep with a dog in a waterbed? It's ridiculous.

So anyway. The other night, the Chunk decides he wants to get "romantic". Usually I avoid this by sleeping, pretend sleeping, or eating, but damn, he caught me at a vulnerable time in my life, when I was just laying in bed, reading. I thought "hell, why not. He's cute!", and got on with it, forgetting that Maebe was curled up at the end of the bed, sleeping.

Well, she WAS sleeping.

The looks she was giving me, the side eyes, and the embarassment on her face said it all. I was ashamed. It was as though one of my kids walked in on us, and we hadn't even really done any romancing yet. Sigh. She just kept watching and watching, and I'm trying to not notice, and Chuck has NO problem noticing, until finally... "I give up!!", I say.

Chunk: What? No lovin' time?
Me: No! Maebe! She's creepin' me out!
Chunk: Kick her out of the room then!
Me: No! That's so mean! I can't do that, I'd be a bad mom, and then I'd feel horrible and have to give her extra beggin' strips tomorrow, then she'll think she can watch us ALL of the time, just so she can get extra treats, like she's being rewarded for my humiliation, and just... OK. I'll let her out.

So I did. I felt bad, so I got her a treat.

And when I came back to the bedroom? Chunk was passed out.

I tried to bing search "sleeping asian", and all it was giving me was XXimages of sleeping asian women. Since this doesn't exactly match Chunk's description, we'll go with this:

Swear to God, he's in the same damn position, right now.

A Breakdown of Sorts

Man, I wish I could breakdance.


I've thought about letting Chloe take a dance class next spring, after we file our taxes. Or gymnastics. Something. I would love for her to have some coordination and grace.

I have NONE.

No rythym, no grace, and I coudn't walk a straight painted line on the road to save my life. If I were pulled over for a sobriety test, and I was sober, I would still fail. I'm the only person I know who falls UP the steps. (No, I take that back. My mother is just as bad. I must get it from her.) I'm the only one who undresses to get a shower, and starts counting all the new bruises I have and "WHEREVER DID THEY COME FROM??" may slip from my lips a few times as I go.

We have an artificial tree. As I was putting it together, I sliced my finger open like a papercut from one of the "needles". WHO does that?

Me.

I'm stringing the lights, and starting to feel jolly, and WHO falls into the tree, and tumbles into a mess of twisted metal and paper sharp "needles"?

Me.

Who goes to get into the shower today, and slips, AND slides, and manages to barely hang on to dear life on  the handicap railing, so thoughtfully installed by the nice lady's son who USED to live here? I think we know the answer to that, and no, it wasn't Chuck. (Although he did "ski" down the carpeted stairs of our old apartment once, to show me how slippery his slippers were, and may or may not have ended up sliding down the stairs on his back, while ripping the railing straight out of the wall.)

Right now, I'm nursing a thumbnail that has torn away from my thumb. I did it while washing dishes, but I'm not sure how.

I would like Chloe to take part in some classes, so that she doesn't end up like me. So far, it looks like she'll be OK. Maybe Ness got the magic genes, and we should avoid football, the sport he is SO excited to try once he gets old enough.

Oh! And you know, in the short time it took for me to get my shower, Ness found some bubblegum, chewed it, and rubbed it into 5 different spots of this ugly, shaggy pink carpet. It was a NIGHTMARE to clean out. I had to watch where I sprayed the carpet cleaner.

After all, I'm the only person I know who's ever shot a raw chunk of potato in my open eye.

He looks like a badass, because he IS.

Time to Put On My Big Girl Pants!

Yeah, I know I was quite the wah-baby in my last post. That's what I get for decorating a tree with two fighting kids and an empty belly. I'm far too sensitive when I'm hungry and lacking sleep. I'm a wreck.

In reality, her tits are in WAY better shape than my own.

So, I'm OK now. I survived the night, I ate a couple bowls of Cookie Crisp cereal the next morning, and thought about things. I've decided that it's best to just let Ness go when HE'S ready to go, and I'm not going to push it anymore. The only thing it's going to do is frustrate me, and I don't want him to resent me OR the toilet. I want him to use the damn thing. Although, if I resented something bad enough, you could bet your ass I'd shit all over it. So maybe I should push him into it. This could work after all.

I think I finally finished my christmas shopping today. I also want to add that my manager is an amazing lady, and I'm sure she already knows this, but hey, THANKS GINA. You rock.

I worked ONE day this week. It was a great feeling. I feel liberated, like a hard day ending, and you get to take off that bra, you know, the one with the underwire poking out of the side, and the strap that keeps falling on one side, and is entirely too tight on the other shoulder. I'm done until Saturday. Then Sunday, I get to take Chloe to see a play here in Alliance, Beauty and the Beast. I'm hoping she digs it, because I didn't really have the money to do this, but scraped it together anyway, and it's with her girl scout troop, whom I still have mixed feelings about, but am feeling a little bit better. It's just strange, nothing like the girl scouts I was in when I was a kid. (Excuse me while I shake my fist and adjust my dentures.) Nothing is the way it was when I was a kid. Cartoons aren't the same (although most of them are BETTER, in my opinion), candy is more expensive, and my clothes don't fit me the same. I have a muffin top, and it's not the sweet kind that's all covered in sugar that you can eat and feel guilty/giddy about.

Oh! I bought this book for the kids for christmas.

All of My Friends are Dead

It is high-larious. I don't know if it's so much kid friendly like the listing says it is.

I read it with the one Kelly Murphy last night, and believe me, I've never seen anyone laugh as hard as she did when the tree had mono, thanks to Carlos' nasty rumor. I'm telling you, it may not be a book for kids, but you should buy it for yourself. You won't regret it. I'll give it to Chloe when she gets older, maybe 18? (I'm not saying it's a dirty book. There's just jokes in there that kids definitely wouldn't get.)

Well. I'm still waiting to hear back from Kent State. I applied about a week ago, so I could classes for Radiology. I'm pretty excited, and hoping for good news. I'll let you know about that. :)

I think that's pretty much it. My mind's occupied right now with thoughts of sleep and candy, and I'm working from a blank slate. When I started this post, I had all kinds of things to say, but ... I'm out. Brain fart. I'm a blonde? I have a ton of excuses. 

Things I Fail at as a Mommy

Tonight, we finally got around to decorating our christmas tree. I realize I said we were going to do this days ago, but things happen, and I got tired, bored, and very unmotivated to do much of anything. Winter isn't exactly my season, and I have a hard time dealing with it every year. Even with a new house and great things happening, this year is no exception. I hardly work anymore, which I'm actually pretty OK with, but all I want to do is hide in my bed and sleep. I find myself becoming very short tempered, lazy and blech. (I'm not sure how "blech" is supposed to feel, exactly, so if you know, kindly learn me on the subject.)

So anyway. We decorated the tree. I took a picture of my chuds in front of the tree. See?

Now. What do you see here? You know what I see? I see a beautiful 5 year old, huggin' on Mrs. Claus like the old woman has cookies hidden right there in her apron pocket. I also see my nekkid 3 year old son, who refuses to even LOOK at the toilet, and will sit and pee in his big boy underwear, all day, every day. I feel like a failure at this project. Chloe? She was no problem. She was all about the toilet, and sleeping through dry nights before the week was done. Cotton candy rewards did the trick, and it was AWESOME. Two years old. Great stuff.

Ness. Now Ness... he's different. This kid is the complete opposite of Chloe. When we're at the playground, Chlo runs up to each and every kid, and starts with this: "Hi, my name's Chloe, can I play with you?", and makes friends instantly. Ness is the loner kid, the one who usually prefers to play by himself, but if he's going to play with ANYONE, he sure as hell is gonna try and play with the eleven and twelve year olds. He has never shown interest in playing with boys his own age. He loves his cousin Trent, who is 6. He has no interest in the toilet. I have patiently tried with him. Rewards, targets in the potty, pleading, and he refuses. He will wear his big boy underwear, but I'll be damned if I ask over and over and over again "Ness, you gotta go potty?", he says no, then runs into the kitchen minutes later, and pees on the floor. It's extremely frustrating. I also feel judged when we're out where other small children are, and there are boys smaller than him, who are obviously out of diapers.

You know how bullies were mean in school? Well, other parents can be mean and cruel as well. I haven't had anyone say anything to me yet, but I swear I can feel the eyes of other people as they realize Ness is the same size as Chloe, but in a diaper. I know this seems like such a small thing, nothing to really worry about. It probably is a small thing. It doesn't help I'm being told by one person in particular, "Well, if you weren't working and were home all day like you should be, minding the house and raising your children, you'd probably have him trained by now." Wow. I work maybe 2 days a week now, usually early mornings. I'm home with my kids EVERY day, and I DO try.

Maybe he's not ready yet. I don't understand how he can identify numbers by sight, and count and use his brains in ways that continously blow me away, but I can't get him to simply stand in front of the pot and just GO.

Like I said. Rewards for peeing? Done. Nothing. Targets in the potty to shoot at? Also done, and still nothing. He wants nothing to do with it. At first, he would cry and scream if I tried. Now he doesn't have any reaction, except for the fact that he prefers to pee on my kitchen floor.

I sent this picture to my mother in law tonight over the phone. This was the response I got: "Oh, a lovely picture of the grandchildren, and of course Ness (in his diaper)." Just like that.

This winter funk isn't helping my situation at all. Neither is Chuck's nagging to get Ness out of diapers so that we won't have to buy anymore. I understand that, believe me.

Wow. I feel like this has just been a rant and rave tonight. I guess tonight is my night to vent, since I haven't in a while, and it was building up pretty hardcore.

In other news, I also cannot keep clothes on Ness. THAT, however, is a problem I can deal with. I just turn on the ceiling fan until he's cold and begs me to help him put his clothes back on. That seems to work out just fine.

Chlo is turning out to be a math whiz. She must get it from her father. Oh, and ALLLLL that asian in her. Thank god she doesn't have MY math talents. She'd might as well give up then, and invest in a calculator. I'm a mess when it comes to math.

While I'm on the topic of being a mom and all...

I was taking a crap earlier today, when Ness came into the bathroom crying, because he stubbed his toe and needed a smooch on it. So I kissed his toe.
While I was on the toilet.
Which brings me to other strange things I have done since becoming a mother:

Amused an 18 month old crying Chloe with bubbles, while I was sitting on the toilet.
Went to Walmart at 2am to find the same binkie as the one Ness lost when HE was a baby, JUST so he would go to sleep again.
Taught my daughter how to "crab crawl pee" in the woods when bathrooms weren't available. (Preparing her for the late night outdoor bonfires she may encounter in her early twenties.)
And some other stuff that god I can't remember, but watch, I will after I post this and go to bed, and by then, it'll be too late, and then I'll say fuck it, and then I'll be sad because... well, because.

Hey. Thanks for keeping it real.

Sunday Morning Radio

KILLS me. Sunday morning radio just kills me.

My husband, the Chunk, went out and bought a new car in 2007. He bought a 2008 Chevy Aveo, WITHOUT telling me he was going out and buying a new car, and THEN, to boot, he went down the cheapest road possible, and left out the power windows/locks (which I'm fine with THAT), the A/C; it's a stick shift to make it even cheaper, but then? Oh, yeah. There's a radio. That's IT. A brand new 2008 vehicle, and it didn't even come with a damn cassette player. Yeah, he went THERE.

See. It's not that we don't own Mp3 devices, full of wonderful music to fill our fuzzy ears when we hit up the local chinese buffet. It's the fact that we no longer own one of those "radio/mp3 player sync-y thingies" that allow you to listen to said player in the car. So I've been relying on the radio to get me by until we get one of those "thingies". And if you know me, you KNOW I hate the radio. Most of the time, I can get by on Top 40 radio. My kids dig the catchy pop songs, and I don't want to throw myself out of the moving car... too much.

Then we get to Sunday morning.

It's not a long drive to work on Sunday morning, only about 20 minutes. (Ok. I realize this is long for some of you. Lucky bastards.) Do you have ANY idea what's on the radio at 7am on a Sunday morning???

NOTHING.

Church radio. Garden radio. Tech nerd radio, and not even the cool tech nerd talk, but the kind of talk about microsoft things, and gigabytes this and macro______ that. If I chance upon some music, it's country, and to put it nicely, I'm not a fan. So I spend every Sunday morning, pushing buttons, scanning the stations, hoping I'll come across just ONE song that could make my 20 minute drive ANY better.

I hear there is polka radio on Sunday mornings on the Akron University station. Not when I'm driving.

I hear there's a good oldies station that plays a ton of 60's rock on Sunday mornings. Oh, I found it, alright. Jimi Hendrix sounded like he was singing from the other side, and it scared me.

There was nothing.

Then..... then I heard.... drums. A guitar! Oh! I think I finally found something!

Maroon 5.

I might as well have just ended it all this morning. It's a cruel world.

The Importance of Night Driving...

Night driving. It's one of life's greatest pleasures, depending on what road you take. Every Friday night, I pick the kids up from my mother in law's, then I decide to take the slightly longer road home. This road is a country highway, winding between huge fields and farmhouses. No streetlights. Hi beams required.

The kids always pass out within the first 5 minutes, which makes for a quiet, fight free kind of drive. This is MY time. So what do I do, enjoy the peace and quiet? No. I listen to music. Not just any music. No loud, heavy rock for me. Not at night. Not classical. Sweet Jesus, I don't want to fall asleep at the wheel! I'm still listening to bands like Incubus, 311, and the sort. I pick the mellow shit; the shit I would daydream to, the stuff I could fall asleep to at home in bed, if I weren't driving.

I have some favorites I listen to EVERY time. Instead of dreading the half hour drive home, I don't want it to end. I do all of my thinking on Friday nights, well, most of it. I DO think the other 6 days of the week. I just feel like this is the time when I can turn all my attention to it. I think of what could have been. What could be? What would happen if I said this instead of that?

                           This is Roads, by Blindside. GREAT night listening.

Driving a night is .... Well, I can't explain. When I graduated high school, I lived a good hour and a half away from my hometown, where all of my friends were. I lived in a small town with one streetlight, and our house was situated on top of a hill, with the view of the lake all around. Beautiful. Driving home at night? Even better. I worked a good 45 minutes away from home. To get home, we had to take Rt. 542, otherwise known as Magnolia Road. It was a country highway, dark and super curvy, with lots of big open fields, and if the moon was out and full, you could see for miles. It was awesome. Driving through the woods, tunnels of dark trees, watching for deer; it was never scary. (Although, if I were to break down in this shit, I would have peed my pants and locked every door, and waited for the escaped criminal with the hook for a hand.)

                                The Original by Incubus. I listen to this on repeat.

Anyway, before I stray too far off topic, I'm pretty curious as to what YOU listen to when you're driving at night. I have my favorites, that remind me of certain people in my life, the past and present. I feel like I'm with these people again when I'm listening, and it's just a really great/sad feeling. I'd love to hear what your suggestions are; I would love to add to my playlist!

                      
                                          Far Behind by Candle Box

                         Can't Stop, Gotta Date With Hate by Lostprophets

                                          Thank You by Chronic Future

                                         Diamonds and Coal by Incubus

This list could go on forever, but I won't put you through that. These are songs I've listened to just recently. Have any recommendations? Send them this way!



B-l-a-n-k-e-t?? You bet your ass.

So these days, kindergarten isn't about fun and games, singing around the piano and playing with baby animals. (what, YOU didn't play with baby animals? You must have had a HORRIBLE kindergarten experience!) Nope. These days, they expect these kids to be reading by the middle of the year, learning basic computer skills, and simple math, things I don't recall learning until 1st grade. Not that there's anything wrong with this! I get so excited to learn what Chlo has learned everyday when she comes home from school. Our conversations usually go like this:

Me: "Hi Chlo! Soooo... How was school today!?"

Chloe: "good."

Me: "Well, that's awesome! What all did you do today?"

Chloe: "I dunno."

Me: "You don't know? You don't know what all you did today?"

Chloe: "I ate chicken nuggets at lunch, and I need you to button my pants."

Me: "sigh"

These are our after school convos. About an hour later, I can guarantee you she'll be in her room, telling Ness ALL about her great day, and I'll overhear "yeah, and ____ puked in the art room, and ______ calls himself Boogerhead!!" followed by a ridiculous amount of laughter from both chuds.

Later, I'll ask again. "How was school?"

"Ok. I dunno."

"Oh."

So. I've decided, since she's learning sentence structure in school, I will rephrase my questions with "So, tell me ONE complete sentence about lunchtime/recess/computer lab/music/math today!".

And holy shit. IT WORKS.

I am learning SO much from her mad kindergarten skills, I can feel my brain swelling and growing and getting smarter. Either that, or I have cerebral edema. Hmm...

I'm super proud of her. Lately, they're learning how to spell words on their own by sounding the words out first. We practiced tonight. She is surprisingly AWESOME at this. I hit her with words like robot, blanket, box and fox, napkin and money. She got all of them right, and I was definitely impressed. She may have her dad beat on the spelling skills already! This is no longer a household, it is a spelling dojo, and I am her master. It's bitchin.

As I type, Chuck is upstairs working on the kids' room. When we moved in, it was not finished, and it still isn't. He's been working so much, there's just no time to finish. I don't know a damn first thing about construction, so I'm most definitely not the best candidate to finish it. I can't wait for it to be finished though; it'll look great. We live in a one and a half story house, and the whole upstairs will be the kids' room/playroom. We plan on painting a Super Mario Bros. mural on the wall once it's finished, and that'll be exciting/a fucking challenge. I can't wait!

Heartburn has struck this stricken soul, so we must depart for the night. I'm going to go overdose on Tums and pass out. This is my nightly routine, and I realize it is very sad. Take pity on this poor soul as she eventually gives in and downs a spoonful of baking soda and high hopes. Goodnight!

I think I survived 2011... I think.

2011.

What a year. We've done much, said much, ate TOO much, and exercised not enough.

While it's not yet the end of the year, it IS my first blog since 2008, and that's a HUGE deal. Hopefully I remember how to do this, and I don't screw it up like I did my second child. (He's a hot mess, but he's adorable, so this makes up for it. But really! He's smart! He's just....)

Things we did in 2011!

We went on an amazing beach vacation to Emerald Isle, NC. It was beautiful, awesome, the house we rented was GREAT, and ridiculously cheap for the location. We had the ocean in our backyard! Too bad 3 people drowned that week right in that area, and we didn't do too much swimming. The water, it was rough. It was still great though, and I've decided that Beaufort, NC is going to be my future home. They have this thing for pirates, and have Pirate Weekends every summer! This could be the start of an amazing relationship!

The chuds at the beach. As you can see,

Ness is about to get all ninja on that sand's ass.

Things we did in 2011, #2!

We bought a house. It was ridiculous. It was a ridiculous process made even MORE ridiculous by my ridiculous stress/paranoia/anxiety/constant hunger. It took almost 2 months, but by the time we were done, we were proud homeowners. I can't lie, it's a pretty amazing feeling. I didn't think it would ever happen, at least not anytime soon, so finding this house was like finding a straight edge prostitute. IT JUST DOESN'T HAPPEN. Soon after moving in, we watched our fridge die, and our kitchen pipes take a shit on us. We're ok now, and our "used but like new" fridge is working like a champ. So thanks, hillbilly dude who sold it to us, and promised us a good deal if we paid cash. Thanks a TON. :)

Things we did in 2011, #3!

Chlo started kindergarten! She turned 5 in July, which meant only one thing. SCHOOL. Not the sissy kid school, where they learn how to stack blocks and not pee in their pants. We're talking hardcore school, where you learn LETTERS. And NUMBERS. Maybe even some MATH. She's even learning about compound words, and her teacher said (and I quote!) "She just blows me away with her small motor skills! And how smart she is! I just wonder how much she has stowed away in that little head of hers!". I often wonder that myself, usually after I catch her drawing on our "used but like new" fridge with an ink pen.

WHAT GOES ON IN THAT HEAD, KID?????

Really, I should be asking her brother this.

Ness is 3. He refuses to potty train, but can kick just about anyone's ass at any video game. He takes after his dad.

Things that happened in 2011, #4!

I just don't KNOW! Even though it seems like I didn't do much this year, really, there was a ton of stuff we did. We had fun, we grew (at least my waist did), we learned, we did... stuff. It was all in all a pretty awesome year. We have a great set of animals living with us, a new kitty, a new dog, a new tortoise and a new iguana. Wow, that was a mouthful. Kopurnikus is our siamese, he's fat and I love him with all my little catlady heart that I didn't even KNOW that I had, Maebe is our little rat terrier; I brought her from a family; and I think she's had bad experiences with men, because she just doesn't like them at all, Rocky is our new baby red footed tortoise, and Diane is our bitch iguana. She's just a bitch.

I'm done with this post for my new blog. I mean, I don't have a lot to say tonight, I just wanted to try out my new blog. I'll hopefully have new posts soon, with more interesting things to say. Now is the time for me to put my chuds to bed, enjoy some quiet time and eat halloween candy, and relax with my bottle of tums. So to all a goodnight. Or whatever. Till next time!