Wednesday, December 31, 2008
My aunt bought me some Twisted Peppermint shower gel and lotion for christmas. Smelled all minty fresh and nice.
So, yesterday morning I hopped in the shower with my new gel. As usual, I take scalding hot showers. I make the water as hot as my skin will allow before it starts melting and peeling off. I do my usual routine...
put in conditioner...check
rinse out conditioner...check
Then comes the body. I lather an extra good amount of twisted peppermint shower gel on my loofah and start scrubbing at my trunk and appendages with a fury. (Hadn't taken a shower in two days...hey don't judge...I'm on vacation and I'm allowed to be stinky.) After I scrub the first layer of my skin off I start to rinse off.
That's when my left arm, which I had washed first, started to burn.
What the heck is going on?
I turn my body so my left arm was in the hot water but now it was starting to feel like it was freezing, even in the hot water. And, now it was spreading to the rest of my body.
Imagine that you have just emersed your body in the mintiest of mouthwashes. It is so cold that it burns.
There was nothing I could do but stand in the hot water and try to wash off the shower gel with regular soap. It finally did stop but I think that Bath and Body Works didn't name this gel twisted for nothing.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
I feel that a public apology is needed for the label "Perfect Pamela". Perhaps it was a bit over the top extreme.
Let me try to explain myself and my Devin.
Devin has always been an energetic and somewhat uncoordinated fireball of energy from the second he came out of the womb. When he was still in the hospital he would stay awake for hours watching everybody who came to visit us.
During his first year of life, until he learned to run, on his own. He demanded that everybody walk/bounce him from room to room. This also continued into the night. He would wake up and cry for an hour or two until he was satisfied that my head would surely explode from lack of sleep and then I would have to shake his butt until he fell back asleep.
When he learned to walk at nine months old, he immediately set off to running everywhere. Very forest gump like. lol. Devin wouldn't walk anywhere, it was always at a dead set sprint while he would let his war cry deep belly laugh. He was also lucky enough to receive my clutzy gene. So, he would frequently fall and run into everything. I believe he is the only child at his daycare that had an incident report written up for running face first into a refridgerator. ha ha ha.
At the age of two, Devin became the school cannibal. He needed to be constantly shadowed so that he didn't eat the rest of the children. When Devin would get frustrated and could not bite anybody else, which was very frequently, he would bite himself. Sometimes to the point of drawing blood.
At two and a half, Nuby was born so Devin got to stay home with me for seven weeks and that was when we did potty training. Yeah, Devin then got to wear big boy underwear like Daddy! And, he got to meet his new brother and help out. It was a very exciting time.
When we finally returned to life. Devin was in a new classroom. He does not handle change/transition/ or anything that is out of his norm very well. He is sometimes "difficult" to deal with if you don't take the extra step he needs to understand him and why he does things.
Devin (as well as myself) went through a very rough two year period. It is just now getting better but we still have our days. When Devin transitioned to preschool, he LOVED his teacher and she LOVED him. I finally had someone who understood Devin. She cared deeply about him and I greatly appreciated that. It made life on me easier. It is so hard to know that people do not like your child because he is "annoying" and loud.
However, while his teacher adored him and went the extra mile every day, the assistant teacher did not. He would instantly become angry with Devin. There was one instance that I will never forget and it still breaks my heart. I was in my office and the preschool class was walking down the hallway. As usual, Devin got out of line to run and fell hitting his chin on the floor. Instead of helping him get up and reminding him about using his walking feet, he pointed and laughed. Devin just layed there on his stomach crying while all of his classmates followed the lead of the assistant teacher and pointed and laughed also. This sent Dev into an all out screaming fit (rightly so) which got him in trouble. I went and got Devin to talk to him and show my disapproval to the teacher. After a few more instances like that, the assistant teacher was let go.
Devin's preschool teacher then left us for a higher paying position and in the mean time I had given birth to Peyton. That was where Devin's quick downward spiral began. The teacher that took over did not like Devin. I know this because she told several of the other teachers who told me because they were concerned. I moved Devin to our second preschool location with one of our new teachers. She was wonderful but Devin was a mess. Too much change had happened and he did not know how to cope. She was trying her best and that was all I could ask for. That she truely wanted what was best for him even when he was being a little turd and that she was never mean just because he was on her nerves. When she put in her notice for something closer to home, I cried like I had lost my best friend.
That's when Yolanda came back, his original preschool teacher. It took Devin a while to get readjusted. But, it worked. Devin still has his days where they have to call me because he is completely out of control, but they are fewer and further between.
Let me also add that Devin has ongoing ear issues. At age three, he failed an impedence test at school. I was told not to worry that it might be a cold. Six weeks later, he failed again. I was referred to our pediatrician. I took him and was told that everything was fine. Months later, he failed yet another impedence test. I called his pediatrician again and was referred to an ear, nose and throat specialist. He had 30% hearing loss due to fluid in the ears. They put him on an antibiotic. I had him back to his pediatrician who said everything looked fine. But, I could tell that Devin was not hearing. He was having an increasingly hard time in school and at home. I called a different ear, nose, and throat doctor and took him in. He scheduled him for outpatient surgery to have tubes put in two weeks from then. That was last March. During the last month and a half I have noticed that Devin seems to not be hearing me again. When I talk, I notice that he watches my mouth. When I tell him anything, I have to make him repeat it back to me to ensure that he understands. I took him back to his ear, nose, throat doctor who put him on an antibiotic. But, once again, I don't notice anything getting better. Only worse. I called a different agency that specialized in pediatrics because his current doctor is "old school" He is scheduled for a full hearing eval this month.
And last I wanted to address how you stated that I was a child worker and the smack surprised you. I do not want you to think that this is how I conduct my centers. It is by far WAY easier to care for other people's children and their education. It is completely different to raise your own children. While, I never second guess how I do things with my younger two children, I am almost always at a lost with my Devin.
I love Devin in a way that is different than the other two. Not more or less, just different. He is my oldest and he was first. For awhile before Chris came into our lives, it was just me and Dev trying to figure out what to do with each other. I am very protective over him. While I try to stand back and let him figure things out for himself. He is SO darn obnoxious. Wether or not people do this, I feel like everyone is always judging my parenting skills because of the way Devin is. I also only leave Devin with a small few select people because I am always afraid that Devin will fly into one of his extreme-refuse-to-comply-with-anything-and-scream-bloody-murder fits and they will get angry and not know what to do except make it worse.
I am not a perfect parent as I am sure that nobody is. But, I do know that my child knows he is loved and I can assure you that he is not an abused child, although I have threatened to suck out his soul or ship him off to abudaubi.
So, maybe this will help you understand a little bit or to ease your mind.
I can not say that I know exactly how you feel and I certainly hope that I never do. I can only empathize and apologize deeply for your loss. I'm sure that what you had to endure has taken it's toll on you and I could see why Devin being smacked in the mouth would anger you.
I welcome all comments, the original one you left felt like I had been blind sided and left me reeling and wanting to counter attack. I apologize once more.
And, I added my email to my profile. I didn't realize it was not there.
Monday, December 29, 2008
I wasn't going to meet everybody out because I didn't want to ask anybody to watch the boys. Sometimes Devin can be a bit trying on people's nerves and three kids is alot when you are used to a calm life.
But, Manda www.mandasrandonness.blogspot.com to the rescue! She offered/insisted that I leave the boys to go have some quality time with the cousins. Well, twist my arm and shove me out the door, I'm gone. But only after Jason, Manda's husband, gave me the once over and said,
"I hope you're going to go home and change first and maybe like, brush your hair."
So, I went home brushed my hair, changed my oversized shirt and put some more deodorant on. So fresh and so clean.
I got there and was only going to stay long enough to drink my glass of wine and briefly meet my cousin Shannon's new boyfriend. When my drink was up and I was getting ready to go, they said to at least call and check on the boys to see if I was needed. As usual, Manda had things under control. Even with 9 kids at her house, she somehow managed to get my two younger ones to sleep at their normal time.
So, I sat and had two more glasses of wine. I could feel myself getting louder and there was nothing I could do to stop myself. The next thing I know my brother is telling me to tone it down before they slap a banished picture of me on every Quaker Steak and Lube. I guess they don't like it when you are calling/yelling about hooker's in the middle of the restaurant. But, in my defense, I was yelling at my 17 year old cousin for having sleazy pictures on facebook. I told her if she wants to be a hooker, then she should just whip it all off right there in the middle of the restaurant.
It was a good thing that Chris stopped in to say Hello on his way home, because I was way beyond the driving point. He drove me home, but I swear that the car was moving in all directions. We played some wii watched an episode of lost and fell asleep on the couch until 4:00 when I woke up thirstier than a cactus. We both chugged some ice water and went to bed.
And here I am today. Still chuggin the water and some cappuccino from Dunkin Donuts. What a combo.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
A women named Pamela, whose own blog is set to private so I could not view it or respond, left a comment stating, "No child deserves to be smacked. That is child abuse, plain and simple!"
Ok perfect Pamela, I am going to assume that you left this comment out of a general need to reach out and save a child. Or maybe to help me see the errors of my ways.
Because I know that you, Perfect Pamela, would never EVER assume that you know me, that you know my children, that you know my lifestyle, that you would judge my parenting or disciplinary techniques.
I know, Perfect Pamela, that you would never do these things because that would make you an idiot. And I know that you could never be an idiot perfect pam.
I do not need to answer to you or for you to judge or critique my life for me. That is not what I made this blog for. I made it to share some stories that I thought might be interesting or funny.
While your concern is duly noted you can keep it to yourself, Perfect Pamela. Thank you.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Chris is asleep with a headache leaving me and the boys stranded with no dinner. Thoughs of you who know anything about me know that I do not cook anything that can not be microwaved or toaster ovened. And, I can even screw those up.
So, tonight we had what everybody wanted.
Polenta with butter and salt (Devin)
String cheese (Nuby)
Salsa with melted cheese and scoops (Me)
Spinach artichoke dip from www.grandpascheesebarn.com and scoops (Me)
Chocolate milk (family drink)
Cheddar chex mix (left by coin)
I feel kind of sickly full. I just thought I would share our dinner.
When I started writing my blog, the letters kept turning to that funky wing ding font. I kept deleting the words and re-writing them but every time I hit the space bar my word would change from english to some fucked up mumbo jumbo. After writing the word santa ten million times and watching it change to garble I was beyond furious. I was swearing and slamming the tiny little space bar key. I stood up and shook the laptop out in front of me wishing I could give it shaken laptop syndrome. Then I plopped it onto the chair and went to the kitchen to find a snack to calm me down.
After my halloween candy happiness, I came back and explored in the settings. That darn little Nuby had changed my font to Hindi. How does he do these things?
Another Nuby strikes again happened last week when Chris and I went to pick up Coin-O in Maumee. We got there fine and picked up Coin and Bo and were setting off to bring her here. No problem, right? We are adults who had driven there fine. We set our Garmin to home and set off. I was so excited. Chris sets off for the entrance to the highway and Coin says that this isn't the way that she usually went. We scoff at her...how could she possibly think that she knows better than Garmin. He is the ultimate navigation guy in our car. So, we ignore her. We ignore the person who has been driving this route for years. We start out in the direction the Garmin tells us dispite her warnings.
What the hell did that sign say?
We are headed for the wrong freaking state!
What the hell Garmin?
You lied to us?!?
I then remember Nuby the last trip we went on, Nuby was sitting with Garmin. I check the settings and realize that he has changed the home address to somewhere in Dayton, Ohio which is four hours away from where we live. I reset it and get us back on track. Sorry Coin. I will never trust Garmin over Coin again.
How does Nuby sneak and do these things?
Saturday, December 13, 2008
There is poop all over the floor, the smell is overwhelming vicious, I am now gagging myself and the two younger boys are trying to navigate into the bathroom around the piles of poop. So, now I'm attempting to wipe Devin's butt while simultaneously not throwing up on my sick child and yelling at Nuby and Peyton to go play outside of the bathroom. I managed to get them out and shut the door, wipe Devin and clean up the mucusy liquid poop from the grout.
All in all Devin crapped his pants three times, projectile pooped in the toilet 5 times, puked in the bathtub twice and puked in random spots in the house throughout the day.
Phew...yesterday was a rough day that I was ill prepared for. Never NEVER EVER in my life have I experienced such raw stankin horror.
Ok, let me start at the beginning. So, settle in and get a napkin in case you need to dry heave.
Peyton has a horrific cough that started after a 5 day stay Thanksgiving trip to my mom's house. It's not just a regular cough. He coughs until he gags and dry heaves. His little face turns beat red as he is trying to catch his breath. The doctor said it was probably just due to being in a smoking environment (my mom's). It is getting better now that we have a cool mist humidifier in his room at night. Night time is when most of the "attacks" occur.
So, Thursday I had a meeting in Columbus, which is where my mom lives. So, we took off before the butt crack of dawn for Columbus. Two and a half hours into the trip Peyton starts coughing until he throws up all over himself. Lovely. There is no exit in sight and I am not pulling over for fear of a speeding car hitting us as we are parked. I hand Devin a towel and like the good big brother he is, he goes to town cleaning the puke off of Peyton while Nuby is holding his nose yelling, "EW, Pey Pey stinks". Needless to say the car was smelly gross the whole 3 hour ride home that night too.
Before leaving for the night, we went out to eat with my mom and stepdad. Devin was an all out little shit head. Usually when with my mom he is an angel, but during one of my trips taking Peyton and Nuby to the restroom, Devin took it upon himself to throw his fork, slam his little fists on the table and blatantly refuse to obey anything. My stepdad took/carried him outside to recompose himself, where Devin decided to just scream at the top of his lungs. Grandpa smacked him in the mouth and apparently this was what he needed to regain control. They came back inside and Devin finished his meal with red pathetic puffy eyes.
We got on the road a little after 7:00 and Devin quickly zonked out. Him and Peyton slept the rest of the way home while Nuby chattered non-stop about motorcyles and dogs.
When we got home, Chris had all the bedtime supplies ready and we put the three boys in their beds.
This is where all hell breaks loose. Nuby likes to wander around in the middle of the night silently doing his own thing. I wake up to find him sitting in my bed in between me and Chris looking at pictures and talking to them. I fall back asleep to wake up to Peyton coughing and Nuby calling, "Daddy, Pey Pey's coughin, He wants you." Chris and I both get out of bed to handle the situation. We get them back to sleep.
We go back to sleep and I wake up to hear Devin shrieking. I find him standing in the hallway. I have to yell at him to get a response to why he is crying. "I pukeded". I send him into the bathroom to wait for me while I investigate. His stomach must have woken him up and he leaned over his top bunk and puked onto the floor. We have hard wood floors, so of course it splattered everywhere. On his way down the ladder he must have thrown up a second time and this is when I believe he started shrieking, because he probably did not know what the heck his little body was doing.
I get him and his room cleaned up and put him back to bed. 6:00 rolls around and I hear the splatter sound again. Clean again and put him in bed with me. Get up at 7:45 to call off work and get up with Peyton. Devin gets up and heads straight to the bathroom to throw up again.
I made him a little bed on the couch and wait to call my friend Lora was is far more experienced in the realm of throwing up than I am. Bad idea, I am jinxed. Everything she warns me of comes true. As she is warning me that diahrrea may accompany the puking, Devin asks me for new underwear. When I inquire to the whereabouts of his underwear, he says that he had an accident. I head up to the bathroom to find a toilet full of projectile diahrrea and his underwear must have taken the brunt of the force. Gagging, I clean it up the floor surrounding the toilet, seal the underwear in a bag and throw them away.
Devin is back on the couch in clean clothes and I put a bucket next to him with a towel under it. He poops/explodes two more times, thankfully, all in the toilet. I call Lora back to ask her what the hell I should do. She tells me to make sure he is staying hydrated and not to give him too much water at a time because it will make him throw up. So, I give him a sippy cup of water and tell him to drink slow. I head into the kitchen to clean up after breakfast. The other boys want some string cheese so, I ask Devin if he would like some cheese too (against Lora's advice of NO FOOD). Devin politely declines and leans over to start violently puking up the water. I pull his little body off of the couch to get closer to the bucker. He finished up (never cries once) and tells me the he poopeded, it was an accident and he is sorry. I tell him that he doesn't have to worry, he's sick and sometimes that these things happen when you are sick. He waddles up to the bathroom so I can clean him up.
To be continued...
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
I do have a few funny stories to share with you though...
Teeny tiny boobs and strange growing hair.
I have not bought new bras since before I began my three year stint of making babies, having babies and nursing babies. My boobs have been dramatically deformed from all of this. So, I finally decided it was time to go get some new bras. Me, Chris and Peyton took off for the mall because I had a wonderful $10 off coupon for Victoria's Secret. We get there and start browsing around and I pick out a few bras in "my size" and take them to the fitting room to try on.
On my way in, the lovely store lady asks me if I need sized. I kindly decline wondering to myself, "What the hell does that even mean? I don't want this little girl with her perfect hair, make-up and young body in here feeling me up and judging my two different sized boobs and my old lady stomach." So, I try on the first bra which doesn't quite fit right. I call out to chris to go and get me a different size. Him and Peyton go and find what I had requested and promptly bring it back. I try it on and it doesn't look right either. I try on the other bra I had brought in with me and that doesn't fit right either. So, again I send Chris and Peyton out to hunt down a different size. They bring it back and again it doesn't look right.
At this point, I start to think that maybe I don't even know what size I am any more. So, I regretfully press the little buzzer to call the lady. She comes to the door and asks me in her sickly sweet voice, "What'd ya need, hon?" I'm peeking out the crack in the door, standing in the bra that just won't fit right, and tell her that I think I need sized. No problem she says and comes on in with her measuring tape.
I now know that getting measured is not the violating process that I had imagined. Nobody comes in and starts grabbing your ta tas to check your bust size. They simply use a measuring tape and measure above your bust (or in my case, my lack of bust). She infoms me that I am a 32 A.
I am speechless..........
Where did they go? Did my children suck the life out of them while rootin for their milk?
Ok. Whatever. They're gone.
As she is measuring above my boobs, I am standing in the bra that is too big. Therefore, you can see right into it and her face is right above my bosom reading the numbers on the tape. Let me explain that while my mother is all Italian, I look completely like my welsh, irish, german father. But, my mother bestowed upon me the wonderful charm of Italian nipple hairs. Don't laugh. And of course, I had been out of town for the last week and severely busy the week before that, so I had not gotten to remove the little hairs from their home. So, she is face to face with the few dark coarse hairs that in my eyes are big enough to wrap around her neck and choke the life out of her.
I am mortified.
If she noticed, she did not say a word or let on that she even saw them waving out at her.
Anyways, I got two new bras and I'm happy that my little girls are now supported instead of just resting in their little mobile homes.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
For those of you who know anything about my five year old you will appreciate his big accomplishment. Devin has a hard time sitting for any length of time and absolutely despises anything to do with writing anything that even resembles the alphabet. So, I have been trying to do different things at home to show him that the letters will not suck his soul out. One night I got out all of our artsy craftsy stuff to make turkey hands. Me, Dev and Nuby traced our hands and were coloring our "feathers" when Devin decided he had enough and took a black crayon and make dark violent scribbles all over his turkey. I asked him why he would do that to the turkey he had worked so hard on and he just stares at me with his corky like face with his tongue half hanging out and shrugs his shoulders. This face drives me freaking crazy. So, I fly into a rage and rip up his turkey hand, tell him he made it ugly and throw it away.
Yes, I know I'm an asshole. I guess me and Devin are too much alike with rage and attention spans. We made a new turkey hand which is now proudly hanging on the wall in the dining room.
That is the prequel to his big accomplisment. We went to my mother's for Thanksgiving and we had been talking about making turkey hands to take for everybody. On Monday, we talked about our plans to mass make turkey hands after school that day. When I got there to pick him up that afternoon his little cubby was full of papers. I pulled them out and was looking at page after page of his unsteady tracing of his little hand. He came running over and said, "Look, mom, I made my turkey hands!" His teacher said that while everybody was running around and playing (which running is Devin's FAVORITE pastime) Devin was in the writing center deligently tracing his hand on scrap paper and putting each one in his cubby as he was finished.
We brought home the turkey hands and he cut every single one out and glued it to constuction paper. The following day we rushed home because I had worked an hour and a half over and we had a very short time span to finish the turkeys, bake cookies like I had promised, pack all of our bags and be ready for me to watch Lost at 9:00. So, we got home, ate dinner, baked cookies, and Devin got his sharpie and sat and wrote his name on each turkey. Any of you who know my Devin, knows that writing his name even once is a task. He wrote it on every single turkey and then he even put the finishing touches on them. Every good turkey hand needs eyes a beak and bright colored feathers.
I am so stinkin proud of my little man. These turkey hands may seem like a walk in the park to many five year olds or even 3 year olds, but this is a HUGE milestone for my Dev. I am going to have to take a picture of one and post it so you all can share in the turkey hand wonder.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Ok. So, I have a pretty high stress job. I oversee multiple early childhood and school age programs throughout our county. It used to be a job that was split up between five people, but through the years they have "re-structred" (screwed people as much as they possibly can) the management positions. They finally had it whittled down to two people. Myself and my friend Coin-O, who was the assistant manager. When Coin-O left to work at a higher paying less stress job (can't blame her) they decided that they were re-structuring once more and wouldn't be refilling the position. Yeah for me.
In the weeks following her absence I was beside myself with frustration and feeling overwhelmed. When I get like this, I get the crazy-poos.
Crazy-poos- Extreme stomach cramps that come and go in waves. These waves bring hot flashes, searing pain and nauseau. It also gives you about a 10-20 second window to hobble your cramped up body to a toilet before your butt splurches. You must place yourself that must have walls or bars to hold on to.
Back to the story. I had been suffering for the crazy poos for quite a few days. I wasn't sure if my poor bum could take any more. I was so raw that I was now patting my poor bottom with scented baby wipes.
After days of this, I am at home with all of the kids doing something that I can't even remember. I was having a moment of peacefullness. I was just standing in my living room, staring out the giant picture window as the wind blew through the trees thinking of how it looked exactly like this when I was little. When....it....happened........
It hit quick this time. So quick that I didn't even know it happened. While staring out the window with a look of pure bliss on my face...I...farted.
Thought process in my head.
I didn't even know I had to toot.
That sure burned.
It's still burning!
Why is it still burning?
Is it burning on the inside or outside?
I think it's burning on the outside...
There is no way this is happening again.
(I still have not moved from my blissful position at this point)
I then decide that I should check out the possible situation that could be escalating as the burning is spreading on the outside. I take off waddling up the stairs to keep it from smearing. Yep, smashed up carrots.
Why is this happening to me, God?
Can't you leave my poor butt alone for once.
I peel my clothing off and carefully step into the shower to wash my stinky butt. You would think that just pooping would make me gag. Nope, apparently I'm ok with the pooping part. But, I am not ok with washing my own butt when there is poo on it.
I won't go anymore into detail...ha ha ha...well, anymore than I already have. Ok, that sentence was ridiculous but I am going to leave it there cause it made me laugh.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
I started my second block of classes this week and am still waiting on my final project scores from last week. I know I did good in my class that was pointless, but I'm not holding my breath for my english class. The professor must have been pulled out of a cracker jack box because I probably could have taught the class just as well as she did. At one point in the class, my computer was being an ass and wouldn't let me open the documents I needed to complete. So, I only got to turn in half of my assignment. She must not really look at things because she sure gave me a 100% on the assignment. Then I got absolutely no relevant feedback from her regarding my rough drafts on my final project and received no peer feedback because the student assigned my essay decided not to do it. So, I decided that if you can't win, piss as many people off as possible. During all of our assignment question days, I played devil's advocate and challenged everybody's answers. On surveys for the teacher, I told it like it was and said the class sucked balls. So, we'll see what kind of grade I get.
Yesterday I traveled 4 hours for a training. Tonight I had a meeting after work. Tomorrow I have to work late to train a new employee. Thursday I have to travel 6 hours for work. Friday I have to work late to finish training a new employee. So, I may not get to blog again until this weekend. Please don't cane me.
See ya after my busy busy week.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
I think it is because I haven't had any friends to play with and it's getting too cold to go play outside. Two weeks ago my friend (kind of sister-in-law) was scheduled to be induced to have her second baby. I had been super excited waiting for her. Our group is made up primarily of all boys with the exception of Cadence. We had made arrangements so that her oldest, who is the same age as Devin, would stay with me. Devin and Tyler go to preschool together so, if she would have happened to go into labor on her own, it made sense that he stay with me to still continue with school.
Anyway, she was scheduled to be induced on a Friday around noon. So, I changed my schedule at work to be able to get off at 2:30 to be sure that I wouldn't miss anything. I left work picked up all the kids and called Jamie (my friend/sister-in-law) to see if anything was going on. Nothing eventful yet. I told her that I was taking all the boys home and we were going to eat, play outside for awhile and then we would be up. Sounded great. It was the plan we had been talking about for weeks.
Then me and Chris decided that maybe we would find a sitter for some of our crew to focus on just Tyler, since this was HIS baby sister. Chris called his brother, who is Jamie's husband, to see what he was doing and told him of our plan. Everything comes to a screaching HAAAALLLTTT! Lee, Chris' brother, does not want Tyler at the hospital. He doesn't think it is a good idea. This is as we are finalizing to leave. At this point, I am completely floored. Of course, if only one of us is able to go up then it will be Chris. It is his brother after all. But, I am the one who changed my schedule at work to make sure I was able to get all the kids and not miss anything. I kept calling/texting to see what was going on during the day. Nobody asked me if I minded staying home. If they would have, I would have told them that they needed to find somebody to keep Tyler during the time that I could go see the new baby. To say that I was livid, is the understatement of the year. I was wishing giant obnoxious episiotomies on Jamie and trying to wrap the umbilical cord around Lee's neck with my mind power.
But, to shorten up the beginning of the mayhem...when I get upset or angry I need to keep moving. Since, Jamie was in the hospital and my friend next door has been all holed up with every sickness known to the human race, I have been cleaning. My laundry has been done, my dishes are not only washed but put away. Oh and Coin http://www.thetaleoftwocoins.blogspot.com will appreciate this one...my Aunt Suzy bought me a sweet new vaccuum. And I have been washing out the bagless canister every time I sweep. I sicken myself.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Nutty poop, squishy poop, shrapnel poop, phantom poop, fiahrrea poop, goat pebble poop, crazy poop, whole food poop...etc. you get the point.
You get the point that poop is hilarious. But, only when you are talking of poop that goes directly from your or other said person's butt directly into the toilet.
Let me take you back a few years, approximately 4. I had the worst stomach ache. It was the kind of stomach pains that come in waves and make you feel like you have horrific gas. I was like this for about two days but continued working as it was after all, only a stomach ache. I needed to take some supplies to an outside site, so I went down to the basement and grabbed a 50 pound box. This should be no big deal for me. I am not hercules by any means but definately pride myself on being able to do things myself. (I'm a big girl) So, I carry the box up the two flights of stairs from the basement to my office. Oh no, here comes a stomach cramp. I bend over to set the box down, trying to not let it pull me off my feet as I am bending when a fart escapes. It's one of those farts that slowly leak out and you can't for the life of you pinch it off. It just slowly keeps on a leaking and a whinin'. So, I stand up quickly and realize that although my butt has disposed off all of it's gas that the burn is now persisting on, not the inside, but the outside of my buns. That's when the smell slaps me in the face. BLECH. I am now in a full blown panic with my mind racing a gazillion miles a minute.
"No, it was just a fart, it was not poop. I did not poop in my pants. Oh God, what is that smell. Where is everyone. Did someone hear it. Can someone smell me. What do I do. Where do I go. Why is it still burning. Do I feel something running down my leg."
I take off running out of my office, trying not to let my butt cheeks rub together, and head for the second floor bathroom which is usually unoccupied. I lock myself in a stall and "check" the specimen. Yes yes yes, oh no. I have squishy water poo with something that looks like carrot slivers happily staring back at me.
Anyway, this is a favorite story with my friends as my one friend who also worked there had to assist me. Did she come down to tell me it was ok since I was sick? Hell no, I called her from the phone in the hallway and could hear her laughing through the stairwell from the next floor up. Gotta love your friends!
I didn't have anything crazy happen this week so, I thought you all might get a kick out of my poopy pants story. If you are lucky, there might be a sequel to this later this week.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Dr. appointment last Friday.
Edgar...I went to the Dr. for my physical and she decided that edgar is not a hernia and very well might be my inner fart. She said that sometimes your abdominal muscles get weak and your intestines can be felt. However, I have to make an appointment for an ultrasound just to make sure it isn't something else. So, I will get around to doing that at some point in time because, I had some week last week.
I also had to get my tuberculosis testing again. For those of you who don't know me, I have a completely irrational fear of anything that pierces the skin. So, that tiny little needle that barely even goes under your skin and wouldn't bother probably 95% of people looked like a plunger sized needle racing at my arm at 5 gazillion miles per hour.
Being by myself, I decided that I was going to be a big girl and I didn't need somebody to coax me through it. This sounded reasonable and completely doable in my head until the nurse touched me. She was only cleaning my arm with the little antiseptic wipe. But, I tell you that I almost crapped myself from the terror. She then held my arm and wiped it off again and the yank set in. I tried oh so hard to tell myself not to move the arm, but I whipped/yanked it out of her grasp. She patiently said, "Are you afraid of needles?" I start muttering (half to her, half to myself) something to the effect of, "yeah a little bit i guess so it's ok". I give her my arm back silently cursing myself for being such a damn asshole. But, I then proceed to yank the stupid arm off of her five more times before she is able to skewer my arm. While the needle is in my arm and she is injecting tuberculosis into me (probably wishing I would get it) I am wiggling my fingers back and forth when I realize that the nurse is standing directly in front of me and I am flicking my fingers back and forth on her boob. The wonderfully patient nurse says nothing and I quickly tell my fingers to stop that.
That was my visit to the doctor
I was in my office working when I got a call from one of the girls that Peyton was crying and they couldn't calm him down so I went down to see what was wrong. I carried him around for a few moments before I realized that he was not moving his left arm at all. I semi-started freaking out pacing around holding him before I pulled it together, called Chris and took off for the emergency room. When we got there the dr. came in and pulled his arm all around but said that she wasn't hearing the clicking noise it should make when you pop it back in to place so she sent us for x-rays.
X-rays were awful. Chris had to pretty much climb all 6' 3" of himself and lay on Peyton on the x-ray table to keep him still. They were twisting his poor little arm all around taking pictures. They sent us back to our room for awhile and then back for more x-rays because I think they liked torturing him before diagnosing him with nursemaid elbow and sending us home promising that mobility would return little by little.
We got home and he still wasn't moving it...AT ALL. When he would fall, he wouldn't even twitch it as if he were going to catch himself. He would just fall on his face.
So, the next morning I took him to his pediatrician where he reduced (fixed) his elbow 5 more times before he said he felt it click. Peyton still wouldn't move it and would turn absolutely hysterical if the Dr even spoke in his direction. His Dr. then sent us to a pediatric er for more x-rays.
When we got there, that Dr. reduced his elbow again. Then sent us for more torturous x-rays which showed nothing again. So, they splinted his arm and referred us to a pediatric orthopedist. We went there the next day, now wednesday, and she was unable to see anything on the x-rays but thought there might be a crack somewhere. She re-splinted his arm and wants to take more x-rays this coming wednesday.
Last night, Chris was undressing him when Peyton yanked his arm clean out of the splint. Chris starts yelling frantically for me and I run up to the bathroom to find him standing there dangling Peyton's shirt in front of him with the splint still inside the sleeve and Peyton dancing like a chicken, completely butt naked and cracking up. He is moving the arm normally and back to his good old self.
This post is getting so long that I will have to update you on the rest later this week. I will also post on of Peyton in his little splint and sling because I can not find the USB cable right now.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Hmmm....I do believe that would be my inner fart. It would finally make sense of the bubbling feeling that Edgar sometimes has. Oh how ashamed I am. My inner fart sticking outside of my body. And to think of all the innocent people that I made touch my inner fart. Suckers!
Why must every other commercial at night be scary movie trailers? I just looked up at the tv that had fallen silent to see a big zombie guy staring back at me. Scared the inner fart out of me! Just a tidbit of random information about me. I am TERRIFIED of spiders and the dark. When I say TERRIFIED, the word in caps does the actual fear no justice. Let me tell you one of my many many horrific spider/car experiences...
Setting: Driving down a long country road in my S10.
So, I'm flying down the road on my way to work with the radio blaring Dixie Chicks and singing along like I think I'm one of them when I feel something tickle my arm. I look down to see a grand daddy long legs galloping up my arm with a blood thirsty look in all eight of his eyes. I start flailing my arm about the car while I'm screaming. I look back at my arm after I stop flailing and squawking (still flying down the road) and my arm is spider free. My heart is pumping at maybe 400 beats per minute at this point and I try to focus on the radio instead of the galloping spider image that keeps playing over and over in my head......
Got sleepy all of a sudden. It is 1:30 in the morning after all. I will keep you all in suspense for the end of the spider story. Dun dun duuuuuun
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
The first is Chris' truck. We have just as many pictures of the cars as we do of our children. The second is Chris walking through the house drinking pop and yes, those are mounds of laundry in the background. And the third is our last Christmas picture.
I am excited for this weekend. My friend Coin-O is coming into town and I haven't seen her in awhile. I also have to work this weekend. Blah. Oh yeah, I am going to get a physical on Friday and hopefully will find out what Edgar is.
Edgar is this thingy that sticks out of my lower stomach-upper pelvis area on the right sometimes. He's been there since before I got pregnant with my second, but soon disappeared inside my giant swollen body. Now that I am back to a normal body, he's back. I am convinced that the Dr is going to laugh at me and tell me that it's just my little farts popping up before they pop out. But I suppose that will be better than a hernia. I'll keep ya posted.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
In a rush to get all of the pre-party planning done tonight, because Devin's 5th birthday party is at 11:45 tomorrow, I jumped in the shower with Chris. (Nothing nasty, just wanted some hot water too). Well, as usual when it's just me and him. We get totally slap happy stupid. He kept grabbing my hand and jerking my arm out and in real fast which would in turn make the flabby part of my arm slap my side. It would make this awful 'towel flicking' noise and we were doubled over with laughter doing it over and over again. He kept pulling my arm harder which was making it louder until my elbow cracked my hip bone, which had us doubled over in laughter. Well, I guess for me it was 1/4 laughter and 3/4 pain. Unbeknownst to me, Chris' head is right over mine. I jerk my head up and Chris' big ol' front tooth gets embedded into the top of my head. So, now I'm holding my head and my hip and Chris is holding his tooth. It really was hilarious.
On a lighter note, tomorrow is going to be fun. Devin's party is in the morning and then we might go to a kids halloween party later that night. Devin is going to be the Hulk, Nuby a vampire and Peyton an elephant. I will post pictures of our fun-filled events later this weekend.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Any requests for the future? I was thinking of some Mambo Italiano.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Friday, October 3, 2008
So, Nuby is turning into the nightime condiment bandit of the house. That little crap keeps sneaking out of bed and doing the oddest things without me knowing and sneaking back to bed. Tonight, I put all the boys to bed and started on my homework in the living room. Now, keep in mind that my the stairs and hallway are directly in front of me as I am doing my homework. Nuby somehow snuck out of his room without me hearing or seeing him and went into the bathroom. I noticed him when he came walking out saying, "I'm sleepy, I go to bed". I looked at him to see a big blob of white shaving cream on top of his blonde little head and equal obnoxious amounts of shaving cream all over his footy pajamas. I went upstairs to investigate further and found the bathroom sink, counters, floor and yes the toilet covered in shaving cream and toothpaste. He was so stinking proud of himself. As I was cleaning him up and stripping his shaving creamy footy pajamas off of him, he kept stating "I make mess, mommy". Yes Nuby, you made a big mess. I cleaned everything up, put him in his spider man jammies and put him back in bed. I THOUGHT he was asleep.
I went out to see what Chris was working on in the garage for 10 minutes and came back in to finish my homework. Mmmmmm...drinking my cream soda. Tastes funny...kind of bitter. Kind of makes me want to gag. I take a bigger swig trying to swish the taste out of my mouth. Gross...what is that smell and that taste? That's when I noticed the bottle of sleepy massage oil next to my cream soda. I smell the cream soda. Yes, it smells like chamomile. That little crap is now trying to poison me. ha ha ha.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
I love the work I do and hate where I work, if that makes any sense. I work in the early childhood education field and desperately believe in what I do. It's a very high stress job though. You have loads of responsibilities and little recognition, in both wages and word of mouth. I am currently so overloaded at work that I come home and lay in bed awake thinking about the tasks that I need to get done the next day. I used to love where I worked when my old buddies were there. But they all left me and now I just kind of want the building to burn down.
I am a cradle robber of sorts (and proud of it). I am now 28 years old and my fiance is only 22. We've been together for four years now. So, yes...I did steal him fresh off the lot. mwah ha ha ha. Seriously though, he is great (when he's not great). We have the most fun together doing stupid things, like talking only out of the right side of our mouths for a whole night just because we found it to be funny. We have three beautifully crazy children. Devin will be 5 this month. Nuby (Christopher) is 2 1/2 and Peyton is 1. They all have such different personalities that you wouldn't know that they were related(except they all look alike).
My mom, stepdad, sister, brother in-law and my brood of nephews live in Columbus. We live in our house with my dad and my brother doesn't live far from us. I love my family.
Tonight I am sitting here all lonely in my hormonal nuva ring state. I spent the first half of my day freaking out because my aunt called this morning to tell me my mother had a stroke. Of course that sent me into hysterics. They later released her from the hospital and told her there was nothing wrong with her. I disagree, but we won't get into all that right now.
Chris is asleep with a migraine and I have finished my homework for the night. So, now I am just sitting here watching My Big Redneck Wedding missing everyone and wishing I had someone to talk to.
Ok...see ya'll later
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
My name is Jennie. I have 28 years old and have snagged myself a fiance (he's 22). We have three beautifully bad boys: Devin, Christopher AKA: Nuby, and Peyton. Our lives are anything but normal. People often tell us that we are crazy and always flying by the seat of our pants. That is pretty much accurate. Chris, my fiance, could possibly pass for the ADD poster child. You will never EVER catch him just sitting around or watching TV. He is always moving or doing something. His current favorite past times are: Eating fast food, reading auto trader, fixing up his 20 million cars, navigating through craig's list and calculating and recalculating bills. Our three boys are all very different from each other. Our oldest, Devin, is the fire ball of the three. Just like dad, he never sits. He is loud and energetic. Our middle child, Nuby, is a lover not a fighter. He is the bulkiest of the three but is also the most timid. And we joke that our youngest, Peyton, has little man syndrome. He frequently will walk around letting out an earpiercing sqwack while chasing one of his brothers. My dad also lives in the same house in the in-law suite. So, here we are...Me, Chris, Devin, Nuby, Peyton and Pappy all under one big disfunctional roof. I wouldn't trade it for the world!