So Tired of the Poo Water

Last week, we had a plumber come out and relieve us of the poo water that had flooded our basement for a good week. I take that back. A BAD week. It cost us "only $245, because we went ahead and took that trip fee off for you!".

This week, we had to have the SAME plumber come out and snake our main drain AGAIN, because we got the poo water back. And this time, there were turds. Rainbows of turds.

The last time, we were just treated to brown smelly water, with a bit of toilet paper mixed in. Nothing we couldn't handle.

This time, we watching in horror as tiny turds would come bobbing out of the drain. It looked like they were hooked to fishing poles, and we were fishing for the worst goddamn fish in the world.

The sludge was awful. Black, slimy, and just stinky. The water was thick. The smell? Well, you could see steam rising off of the water the whole time it was down there. So now, we're all walking around with radical amounts of fecal matter in our lungs, I'm sure of it. I could handle my mother in law's super strong old lady perfume way better than I could handle this.

When the kids were younger, and she would watch them, even for just an hour, after they got home, you could smell her perfume in their clothes, their hair and their skin. And I would have to instantly toss them in the bath.

Yeah. I toss my kids in the bath. Makes it fun, and also helps me perfect my aim.

She always wondered why they were whiney and would complain of headaches. Hmmm...

I'm not even quite sure WHY I'm posting this right now. I am so exhausted, my eyes are SO tired, I can hardly see what I'm typing. I've got the double vision, and not even the cool Foreigner type of double vision.

No, YOU are as Cold as Ice.

I got off work tonight, to find out that my husband let my two chuds take late naps. Late naps as in, 7 till 9pm. So who's wide awake right now? Two kids that should have been in bed hours ago. Who wants to go to bed REAL bad? THIS girl. Who is passed out on the couch without a care in the world??

Chuck is just asking for a punch in the head right now. Would that be considered a hate crime, since he's asian? Probably not. I'm married to him, so I think I'm safe there, and there's no race card.

Which reminds me. I would KILL for a good pint of pork fried rice. Dude. I have GOT to find myself a good chinese restaurant in this town.

Because so help me, if I buy another pint of pork fried rice, I take it home, and that shit has scrambled eggs in it, so help me, SO help me, I will punch Chuck again. Because someone's gotta take it for the poor chinese guy who made it.

Poor Chuck. The ambassador for "Punch in the Head for all Chinese People Who Put Scrambled Eggs In My Damn Fried Rice".

The end. Are you even still reading? This is terrible.

Getting Accepted, Getting Poopy, and Raising Hell(ions)

It's been a week. It's been one HELL of a week. Let me start by saying that 2012 started off by raping me hardcore, and I ended up not only beating it in it's sweet, yearly ass, but I totally OWNED that shit.

First off, we started with a whole family full of snot filled sickwads. It was beautiful, if you find rivers of green mucus as such.

One of my chilluns gets SO bad, I take her to the ER. Strep throat! The doctor tells me. "See that strawberry tongue?? Get her on antibiotics!"

I can guarantee you that this is exactly what the doctor saw. Like I said, I raise some hardcore chilluns.

So we get that out of the way. My Chloe, my poor Chlo, who hardly ever gets sick, EVER, gets the strep throat. We get antibiotics, and the next day, she goes from shivering and sleeping for two days with a ridiculous fever, to super happy fun time girl. Back to her old self.

Not even a week later, we get a ton of snow dropped on top of us here in good ole' Ohio. Granted, it was about time, seeing as we've hardly had any (or NONE at all, I should say) since winter started, but it was nice to see it. Well. Chuck goes downstairs to smoke his cigarette, and I hear cursing. "Poop in the basement! Poop water in the basement!", except replace poop with "shit", and add a few more creative sounding words in front of "basement", and "poop water".



 No, not THAT kind of poo water. I WISH my poo water was this cuddly.

THIS kind of poo water. Not so lovable, is it?





We had overflow. Not cash overflow, although that would have been hella awesome. Nope. We had poop overflow.

Ok. We didn't see any turds in the water. We got real lucky, and a turd never surfaced. But we saw toilet paper. We saw.... brown water. It smelled bad. Chuck was bailing buckets of water, about eight 5 gallon buckets a day, until we got a plumber out.

Before THAT happened though?

 Three nights ago, Chuck went down to bail some water. Little did he know, the kids followed him down. (sneaky little shits, just like their mother.) Next thing he hears is a crash, and a blood curdling scream. I heard it from upstairs, dropped everything, and took off downstairs. Chuck's freaking out, I'm freaking out, Chlo's freaking out and covered in blood and poo water, and Ness is all "guys! I want to watch teedee down here! LISTEN TO ME!!!".

At first, it looks like a little scrape. I take her upstairs, give her a wet rag, and tell her to hold it on her booboo until I can get her out of those yucky clothes. As I'm getting her cleaned up, I tell her to let me see her booboo, and when she takes the rag off? Well, if I were Chuck, I would have passed out. She's lucky it was me. It was bad. I saw meat. I knew we had to go to the ER again. AGAIN. Twice in less than a week. These people probably think... I don't know WHAT they think.

So I drive her to the ER. Chuck has to call off work, because the basement is quickly filling up with water, faster than he can bail, and we just don't have a choice.

I almost cried in that waiting room with Chlo. I felt SO bad that this had happened to her. I was wracking my brain, thinking of ways that I could have avoided this from happening, when I realized that I just couldn't. I was busy, Chuck was busy, and the kids just followed him downstairs, as they always have. They didn't know the floor was wet in our tv room (and it hadn't been, until that very night), and in the dark, she took off running, and boom. Slid right in the water.

I know I can't watch my kids all of the time. Of course not. Things happen that are out of our control. Damnit, though. I LIKE to be in control of these kinds of situations. I got to hold her hands when she got her stitches, and I felt horrible when she cried, as they stuck the needles for the anesthesia in her chin. It looked like it HURT. She took it so well, even the doctor and the nurse were impressed. That made me SO proud of her. She was a total champ. I brought her and her numb chin home, and we were all happy again.

We got a plumber. He snaked our main drain, and pulled out tree roots. That's not a good sign.

But that's for another day.

So this week, Chlo survived two bad situations, and proved that she is a true badass, just like her mother. I got accepted to Kent State University's radiology program, and I couldn't be happier. My house is now clean and poo free, for the time being. I ate some cake. My kids are FINALLY in bed.

So I guess we're good. I'm in the clear, for now.

Also. I have had this damn song stuck in my head for days!





My Failures as a Mother are not!

Well. Here we are. The second day of 2012. So far, so good. Of course, we're only two days in. ANYTHING could happen at this point.

They say the world will end this year. If so, I guess I'm happy to say I completed most of what I wanted to do in my life. Own a house, go back to school (kinda), and have two potty trained kids.

What WHAT?

Yeah. I said it. TWO potty trained kids. One week, Ness is kicking and screaming on the toilet seat, because he's "too scared"! The next week, we take away his Nintendo DS, his Mario Kart AND his cartoons, and tell him "no more of anything until YOU use the potty".

One hour later? That kid peed in the damn toilet. I was taking a nap. He did it for the Chunk. It's a miracle! And since then, not one accident, he's been dry through every night, and it's been hella awesome.

As of right now, while I type this, he's sitting on the floor of the living room, playing his Mario Kart, and living the dream. I am prepping myself to finish off putting away christmas stuff, getting this house cleaned up, and finally finishing the load of whites clothes. I guess I'm racist, I saved the whites for last. :/

Wash ALL the clothes! Not just coloreds.

So here I am. I've decided that it's about time I start getting back in shape. I know, EVERYONE says that at the beginning of a new year, but there are times when I look back and think "whoa, I used to look like this" :

And somehow, I ended up like this??



I look like I'm ready to eat the whole damn buffet.

Ok. I realize I'm only 30 pounds overweight. Yeah, I said ONLY. There are a lot more people and friends who are more, and they probably look at this and laugh. "Girl, you SO skinny!"

No no no no.

See, I feel horrible. Not so much self esteem-wise, although it doesn't help it at all. I feel horrible, health wise. My stomach bothers me, my heartburn is at an all time high, and I just feel sluggish and miserable every day. I tried ViSalus last year, and lost 15 lbs in a month. I wasn't even working out, or I probably would have lost a ton more. So I've decided to hit the ViSalus train again, and work out along with it. I've been doing a bit of working out here and there, but nothing too serious. I need to take that shit seriously again.

I'll tell you what else helps.

My Fitness Pal

That helped me out a ton, and it's free! Someone jump on this bandwagon with me? Let's lose some weight together! Or something.

So now, before I head downstairs to drag up the boxes marked xmas, I will eat a big ole' salad, full of healthy ... things, and then I will work my ass off all day.

But before then? I'm... gonna sit and relax just a little more. This is the first day since winter break has started, that the kids haven't been sick, and I haven't had to wait on them every single second. I am completely worn out. Snot has become me.

I promise I'll write sooner. The holidays and sick kids kept me uber busy.

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.