Random “Late Night” Thoughts

I sit here naughtily smoking a cigarette in the house because it’s so freezing-balls-off cold outside, the last one awake. The Little Tyrant has been asleep for a good hour now, passed smooth out on the living room floor & transported off to bed. The Meat Man is cuddled up on the couch, snoring, with 2 of our dogs. They, also, are snoring. Late night at my house is 9:00 p.m. Lord, we are such parents. In our defense, our day starts at 6:30 every morning. There’s a good reason that we’re so worn out at this time of the evening that we fall asleep on the couch. It’s called a 2-year-old & 3 rowdy dogs. And today was actually a good day.

My last few mornings (with the exception of today) have started off with no coffee, which always makes for a bad day. Me without coffee is not a pretty sight, especially not in the morning. The first morning without my crack coffee, I realized while frowning at the pot for being empty, that it wasn’t. After a few seconds of internal argument about how gross it would taste & realizing I didn’t really care, I heated up the day-old coffee in the microwave & pretended it tasted good. At least it had some caffeine. And then I made the mistake of pouring the rest of it out & forgetting to run to the grocery store with the last of our change to buy more for the next day. The next morning, I glared at the coffee maker while I mentally kicked myself into next week.

It’d been a rather sleepless night, more so than usual even, because the Little Tyrant had slept most of the night in his room, but then woke the dogs up coming into our room. I just haven’t been sleeping well for quite some time now; I blame it on many different things: hormones that got whacked when I was preggo (because I used to sleep like the dead), the Meat Man and/or the Little Tyrant’s tornado-like sheet-twisting thrash-about sleeping tendencies with one miserable me sandwiched between them for the last year, my recently acquired Sonar Mommy Hearing (I can hear the slightest sound out of the ordinary while sleeping & am instantly wide-awake) which aggravates me to no end because as I said I have always been able to sleep through anything, the fact that until we gave up & put it on the floor a week ago my bed was a Pit of Death (the pit being a huge dip in the middle where I sleep, resulting in one or both of the boys rolling onto me 50,000 times a night, because gravity’s just cool like that).

You’d think I’d be used to it already, but only with the crutch of a gigantic cup of joe to help me out. Of course, all 3 of the dogs & my son could definitely sense my weakness & proceeded to raise such a huge racket between the 4 of them that it made my head & ears ring to the point of closing my eyes & covering my ears while hollering at them to knock it off, PLEASE NOW, it’s entirely too early for this sort of commotion & Mommy hasn’t had any coffee yet. Closing my eyes was definitely not a good idea because the sleepy part of my brain kept trying to overrule the responsible mommy side that insists I stay awake while anyone else is awake because you just never can tell what kind of mischief these 5 are going to get into if I close my eyes for an instant.

Many occasions that the Meat Man has kindly allowed me to sleep in while he gets up & takes care of things has brought me out of the bedroom with the decibel level, only to marvel at a huge mess & make some smartass comments about WTF his definition of taking care of things is b/c WTF HAPPENED?! This all happens when I open my mouth without the coffee filter on it & makes me seem terribly ungrateful, which really, I’m not. (No, really, honey…the first thing that should have come out of my mouth was “Thank you for letting me sleep in & cleaning the kitchen & starting the laundry & cooking breakfast while wrangling this mad house of animals.” Really, I love you & you’re the best.) I’m glad the Meat Man cleaned the kitchen, it’s just…why is there such a mess in every other part of the house? Did it not occur to you that the puppy might have had to pee, just a few times (6 times, actually, according to the puddles) since you’ve been awake today? And you’re telling me that you didn’t see a single one of these puddles occur? And where exactly have you been? Just shut your mouth, T. Just shut your mouth & drink your effin coffee to give your brain a kickstart before you go take your foot out.

Anyway, back the coffee situation. My sweet husband had to work a few hours on what is normally his day off & got to drink coffee at work, but couldn’t get away to bring me any. So you know what he did? He sent his boss over with a can for me. Isn’t the the sweetest, most knight-in-shining-armor thing ever? I know, he’s an effin rockstar. And I love him to pieces. Fortunately, this morning started with some coffee, hooray!

The last few days have been very trying with the Little Tyrant. Meltdown-a-licious, all around. Which is never fun for anyone. We had 2 really awful, frustrating days for everyone, followed by a great day today. But I spent most of today waiting for him to explode with the surreal feeling that at any moment, the sky was going to fall on me & I would regret my assessment of today being awesome. It wasn’t though. It snowed a bit this morning, but was gone within 30 minutes. Wet snow & mostly just cold, miserable weather. I figured the Little Tyrant would pitch a huge fit about being confined indoors, but he handled it with grace today. And Toy Story 2 & 3 for the millionth time each, with running commentary. But hey, I’ll take listening to Toy Story & my son’s narration & never-ending fascination with these movies any day over his epic meltdown tantrums. Pixar & Disney, my ears & sanity thank you very much today. Thanks for making an inside day bearable for my little dude.

And thank you, to the Little Tyrant & whatever Powers-That-Be, for suddenly making him completely forsake his late afternoon napping habit (you know, the one in which he wakes up at 7:40 p.m. either awesomely or horribly & leaves the fate of our evenings resting on which mood he happens to choose upon waking) & deciding instead to fall asleep consistently around 6:00 to 7:30 every evening & sleep all through the night. That’s pretty awesome. Even if it is only until 6:30 every morning. And even if it’s not entirely in his own room. Beggars can’t be choosers & I am so glad that the Grown-Ups now have some alone time for several hours every evening before the Sandman crawls out of the couch cushions & makes the Meat Man pass out while watching TV. Plus, what mom wouldn’t be thankful for getting to shower alone every night this week? I know, I know. The excitement of my life is just unbearable, right? Hahaha.

In other random thoughts, Pandora Radio totally rocks my socks off tonight. I love how you always know just what to play for me to jam out to at any given moment, Pandora.

On that note, I have been yawning uncontrollably for the last 20 minutes & am now starting to wonder why I’m wasting precious sleeping time on this blog. Hopefully I will sleep better tonight with the comforter nailed over our northern-facing window that should keep the wicked northern wind from howling so viciously through the cracks in the window & keeping me awake with its frosty fingers. Good night!

 

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Life Definitely Has A Sense Of Humor

The last 3 days have been interesting, to say the least. After my last post about wanting to lock my son in his room just to get some alone time, it seems that someone up there is listening to my bitching & gave me several alone moments. Thank you, God or Mother Nature or whoever it is listening to my whining. Yes, I’d like some cheese with that.

My last few days have consisted of this:

2/3 mornings The Little Tyrant has taken such massive morning poos that it overflows out the back & the leg of the diaper. Which equals me & a giggling 2-year-old, 3 tons of baby wipes, much gagging & almost puking, & finally a bath. Plus all the extra laundry & that lingering poo smell everywhere. Joy.

3/3 mornings The Little Tyrant has spent screeching at me, demanding more food. NOW!!! I seriously think he must have hollow legs b/c I just don’t understand how he can eat 3 bowls of oatmeal, 2 peanut butter sandwiches, a yogurt, & some crackers within 2 hours, but still be starving to death as he wants me to believe.

The Little Tyrant also had his first trip to the dentist. (Yes, I do realize he should have been before now, but the stupid pediatric dentist only has a sign-up once every 6 months for us poor folks on Medicaid & they fill up unbelievably fast. Like, by the time you get past the busy signal 15 mins after they open, they answer & tell you the spots are all full, sorry, call back in 6 months) Surprisingly, he was awesome for them while they counted his teeth & cleaned them. He didn’t even try to bite them, like he does me when I try to help him brush his teeth.

I hate how he is an almost perfect angel for everyone except us. Seriously, if my mother & my mother-in-law didn’t spend hours on the phone with me each day, they would never believe that he can be such a little heathen. But I suppose his well-behaved alterego for everyone else at least makes it so we can drop him off for weekends once every couple months & his grandparents really enjoy having him. So I won’t complain too much.

Back to the dentist visit. Let me just explain something before I go on. Me & the Meat Man really do try to help him brush his teeth. But this typically involves a huge tantrum ending with us putting him in a headlock to get it done, plus his gums bleeding b/c he won’t stop thrashing his head back & forth. And so, we end up settling for the “Good Enough” toothbrushing probably 9 times out of 10. The Little Tyrant is at that age where he wants to do everything himself & heaven help us if we try to help at all. I’m sure you see where this is leading.

The Little Tyrant has 4 cavities. There is nothing to make you feel like a worse mother than the dentist & assistant telling you that your son is going to have to be referred to another dentist in a bigger city to be admitted to the hospital & put under so they can fill his cavities. *sigh*

We’ve got a new puppy that we adopted from the shelter & although he’s been with us for about a month now, he is still just skitzy as hell. Something must have happened to him b/c every time the Meat Man comes home, Nub starts barking & growling & goes to hide underneath the desk. That’s his spot. And I know the Meat Man has never done anything to Nub to make him act like this. Not only does Nub bark & growl at the Meat Man, he also flips out about falling leaves/windsocks/any noise outside. He is, however, fabulous with the Little Tyrant. Which is a big point in his favor. I keep hoping that he’ll get better the longer he’s with us, but I’m starting to really wonder. And even considering taking him back to the shelter b/c it hasn’t worked out makes me feel like the lowest POS ever.

I went to get him b/c Shadow, our 5-year-old pup, had gotten really depressed when the Little Tyrant suddenly realized that she was the only one he could legitimately boss around. He would screech her out of his room & she would lay under the coffee table whining inconsolably. She didn’t want any petting or treats or toys. She just wanted to be with her boy. It was pitiful to be quite honest.

She’s a completely different dog now that she has a playmate. Right back to her old instigating self. It is Shadow’s fault that I have such aggravating mornings before I even get out of bed. She’s already taught Nub to do the same. She’ll get up & start scratching (aka jingling her collar). Then she’ll shake really loudly. Meanwhile, she’ll peer over the edge of the bed to see if I’ve opened my eyes to glare at her yet. If none of these tactics work, she’ll jump up & down off the bed a couple times before proceeding to rub herself on the bed or lean against it to scratch. Which shakes the whole bed, considering she is an 80 lb monster of a dog. Of course, all this serves to wake up the Little Tyrant who was sleeping next to me peacefully. That way I have no choice but to get up & feed them & let them out b/c once those gorgeous baby blues of the Little Tyrant’s are open, there is no more rest.

We also spent yesterday helping some friends remove their window unit & board up the hole for the winter. And some other friends move out of their apartment & into our house for a few days before they take the bus back to Michigan. They’ve got a 3-month-old pit bull mix pup, Kujo, that we’re trying to find a home for b/c you can’t take pets on the bus. He is like a little Shadow made over, I swear. It’s hysterical. I wish we could keep him, but there’s no way to feed & get vet care for 3 large dogs on our income.

I spent one peaceful 30 mins at the house by myself with my iPod in, jamming out to music while cooking spaghetti & washing the dishes. And when the Little Tyrant randomly fell asleep on the couch at 3 pm (which never happens anymore), I got a blessed shower by myself. (I hate showering with the Little Tyrant b/c he doesn’t want me to get in the water at all. It’s his water & how dare I try to rinse my shampoo. Grr!) And when the Little Tyrant fell asleep fairly early on the second afternoon, I got to spend an fabulously orgasmic hour with the Meat Man.

To all of you out there who’ve forgotten what it’s like to have a 2-year-old glued to your side 24/7, that sleeps in your bed & you never have a moment to yourself, let me just tell you that it KILLS  your spontaneous sex life. Hell, it kills your sex life, period. So to have an hour to spend leisurely enjoying each other is damn near as good as it gets.

So, whoever is listening to me up there, thank you for giving me 3 lovely moments kid-free to enjoy these last few days. I am really enjoying this lovely autumn weather, also. I’m halfway through my 30 days of thankfulness & am very excited about having 30 of our family members over this Sunday for an early Thanksgiving. It’s always nice to remember what we are thankful for, instead of bitching about what we don’t have. Because it could always be worse, people.

Why Haven’t I Been Keeping Up With This?

It could have something to do with my procrastination. I am a lifelong procrastinator. It is a pet peeve of mine with myself. I wish that I wasn’t. I try not to be. Really, I do. But I. just. am.

I have many excuses of why I don’t keep up with my writing…

I have a 2-year-old who thinks he runs the world. And if he doesn’t get his way, it’s the end of the world. (I’m talking a simple “No, son” sends him into a full-on epic meltdown, complete with throwing himself down on the floor & flopping around like a catfish out of water, & sobbing, then screeching, inconsolably, sometimes for hours) When he’s not busy being the little tyrant that he is, we’re busy playing together. That is the one thing I do allow him to still boss me about, demanding me to come play pretend dinosaurs or read him just one more Dr. Seuss book.

I have 2 large, energetic, goofy dogs that demand the rest of my free attention. I have a husband who deserves my full attention when he gets home b/c I do love him so very much & wish that I had more energy & time to devote entirely to him.

I have a constant pile of laundry that mocks me, daring me to just try to ever catch up completely. There is never a day when there isn’t at least one basket of laundry undone in my house.

And the rest of the house…well, let’s just say Martha Stewart would definitely NOT approve of my clutter & dust & unwashed baseboards if she broke in. Fortunately, I highly doubt that will ever happen. I am not & will probably never be one of those people who is constantly cleaning everything in sight & requires things to be just so. In fact, I am lost without my piles of clutter. When my husband goes on a cleaning spree & moves my piles, I have no idea where anything is anymore b/c I knew exactly where everything was before it was “neat.” Luckily for me, my husband loves me & my non-cleaning-obsessed self. (Thank you, honey, for tolerating my mess)

I actually feel terribly guilty that I am not an OCD cleaner that has the house spotless & sparkly when the hubby walks in the door. I really do mean to get around to these mindnumbingly boring menial cleaning tasks at some point…but it always seems to be later. I wish I was a domestic goddess effortlessly.

I have been a captive of the Terrible Twos for the last year & a half. My son started early. I used to be impressed when he reached every milestone early…not so much these days. No, I spend half my days praying that the Terrible Twos will not run over into the Terrible Threes & Fours. Not that I’m not impressed with his intelligence or his independent little self. I am. I just wish I could see a light at the end of these tantrums.

It amazes me how quickly the last few years seem to have blurred right past me. I have been procrastinating about blogging for the last 2 years…that makes me sad. Writing used to be my only salvation to my sanity. Lately though, I tell myself, “Oh, I’ll blog when everyone’s asleep. Got too much to do right now.” That would work out splendidly, except that the Meat Man falls asleep on the couch at about 8:30 every night. But the Little Tyrant is still all energized from his late-afternoon nap he has become prone to taking from about 5:45 to 7:45.

And so, my son demands my attention more than my personal time. Does it make me a horrible person that I would LOVE to just lock him in his room for some me time? I like to think it doesn’t, that every stay-at-home mother with a tyrannical 2-year-old has these thoughts. I hope I get some credit for not giving into them. I have trouble even letting him out of my sight for a few minutes, for the simple fact that he is very sneaky & adventurous & there really is no telling what kind of fun trouble he’s going to get into in just a few moments.

By the time my planned blogging time rolls around, say around 10:00 or 11:00, not only is my son still awake & “Mommymommymommy”ing me to DEATH, I am so plum wore out that I can’t even think straight, let alone try to form a coherent sentence that people could read. But, I am going to try to get back in the habit of writing just a little bit every day.

Hopefully, my boring stay-at-home mom life won’t bore ya’ll to death.

Until next time, One Very Tired Mama

Hello world!

I started this blog as a way to get my thoughts out in writing. Whether it be happiness, sadness, anger, laughter…just whatever is on my mind.

It amazes me how much we all change in such a short time. I am a completely different person than I was even just a year ago. I’m even more of a different person than I was 5 years ago. If you’d told me 5 years ago that I would be happily married with a child who was my whole universe, I would’ve died laughing & asked what you were smoking. If you’d have told me 2 years ago that I would be happier than I’d ever been as a domestic goddess in training, I would’ve laughed even harder.

Humans are just incredible in their capacity to change & adapt to whatever situation they are put in. And while so many of us fear & try to avoid change, it is inevitable. I think change is good for us. It makes us grow & learn. It makes us examine our path in life & decide whether we want to stay on the same path we’ve been on.

I spent almost 10 years being such a rebellious little wild child, totally self-absorbed & selfish & stupid (& crazy, & reckless, & irresponsible, & wild, & did I mention crazy?). But I don’t regret one second of it, because whatever I was doing, it was exactly what I wanted to do at that moment. I lived for the moment & didn’t give two seconds of thought to the consequences.

Not to say that there weren’t consequences…there were plenty of them, some harsher & more extreme than others. But I think that having that kind of freedom once in my life was a great thing for me. I “sowed my wild oats,” as one would say & while I loved that part of my life, I wouldn’t go back to it now even if you offered me $1,000,000. It’s out of my system & I have some wild stories to tell, that I’m sure my son won’t believe. (Hell, my hubby hardly believes them!)

But that crazy part of my life has shaped me into the woman I am today & if I changed anything, I wouldn’t be where I am now. No regrets. Life is too short to regret every little mistake you make. If no one ever made mistakes, we would never change. We would never learn.

I know some of the hardest, most important things that I’ve learned have been through my monumental mistakes that I thought would always seem so huge. And they still seem huge, just not quite as huge as they were when they were towering over me & I was beating myself up about them.

No one on this Earth is perfect & no one should try to be.  People don’t love us because we are perfect; they love us because of our flaws & quirks & differences. They love us imperfections. What a boring world it would be if we were all perfect & the same.