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.