Tuesday, December 14, 2010


That’s how I’ve felt lately. Wordless. I feel like I hardly get to see my kids anymore, I feel like I’m constantly on the go, I don’t know whether I’m coming or going, or going or coming, and I have a million different things going through my head. Thanks to the retail gig, I’m pulling 50-60 hour work weeks and I am TIRED.

I haven’t finished my Christmas shopping. I didn’t put up half the decorations I normally do. I haven’t done my baking. Nothing is wrapped.

I’m just… here.

Christmas is normally my favorite holiday. I joke that I shit holiday spirit because I seriously adore it. Normally. Usually.

But not this year. I’m not able to spend the money I want to, I’m budgeting myself paycheck by paycheck and now the things I was holding off on for last minute are no longer in stock.

My kids will be with their dad for the majority of Christmas weekend. We swapped Fridays so they are spending the night with me on Christmas Eve, which I am so very thankful for; at least they will wake up at home on Christmas morning.  But the thought of coming home to an empty, quiet house on Christmas night depresses me.

Things have been weird. My mom and I constantly bicker, she told me a month ago we no longer had a relationship and she is definitely sticking by it.  On Black Friday we got into a huge argument because she criticized me for working two jobs. Said I didn’t have my kids as my number one priority and that they spent too much time away from me. I find this laughable since I’m working two jobs to put food on the table and diapers on their butts and the time she refers to when they’re away is their scheduled time with the ex. Is that rational to you? I’m being given shit because I am doing the responsible thing and working my ass to provide for my kids and because their dad wants to spend time with them. I just don’t get it. But I can tell you it’s the last thing I need right now.

Le sighe. I am PMS’ing like a crazy lady right now in case you couldn’t tell by this whole woe-is-me post. I miss blogging. I miss reading blogs. I catch up on breaks at work but don’t have enough time to comment. I feel like I worked really hard on building bloggy buddies over the last year and I’ve just let it go to shit the last few months. All I want for Christmas is a vacation from everything for a while, I swear.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Happy Halloween!!

Quick post, just wanted to get these up before the work week got in the way….






My little Woody and Jessie had a BLAST and Mama here is pretty fricking proud of her handiwork on their costumes. It’s amazing what some felt, two yards of fabric, an entire bottle of liquid stitch, and every curse word known to man can do. Eat your heart out, Martha Stewart. I think I’ll go reward myself by taste testing some of the kids’ candy…..



Sunday, October 24, 2010

Back by popular demand…

Okay. For those leaving comments (i.e. demands) on my Facebook, here I am. Blogging. Happy now?? My bathroom needs scrubbed, my kitchen floors need mopped, my 14 month old is currently running around naked from the waist down, but here I am.

I’m not even sure if an excuse would help but the only reason for my blogcation is this: I.don’t.have.time. Seriously. Most of the time I feel like my mind is one big cluster fuck. My house looks like Toys R’ Us threw up in it, the kids have been sick and demanding, work wears me out… I go from 6am to 10pm. And I’m tired. Thanks to a clogged drain, my washer is currently out of commission and until I can remember to call Dick Van Dyke Appliance World during normal business hours, I’ve been loading up clothes and taking them either to the ex’s or my mom’s to wash. Neither is too pumped about it and I can say I’m not either. As we speak, I have a whole basket full of wet clothing sitting in my mother’s laundry room that I need to go get and bring home to dry. Apparently she was none too pleased to return from their Nashville trip and find my clothes in her machine. Rather than offer to dry them though, I was rudely informed she throwing them “all in a God damned pile!”. Gee, thanks. Note to self: Call the repairman tomorrow.

The past week my best friend and her kids have been here staying with me. She’s leaving tomorrow and I have to say I’m pretty bummed out to be losing my temporary roommate. Seeing her youngest son – who was born 2.5 weeks after Bug – really reaffirms my belief that my child is N-U-T-S. The boy has no fear. Currently he’s sporting the remnants of a fat lip, as well as four bruises on his forehead. A stairwell? Ah hell, I’ll run down them! An opening in the playground equipment? I’ll fling myself off it! Front door that won’t open? Maybe banging my head against it will do something! Running down the hill in the front yard, tripping, and biffing the concrete?? Oh well! I swear I’m going to get the kid a helmet before he winds up retarded by his 2nd birthday.

Don’t believe that all hell is breaking loose in my house? Look at this picture:


This is what happens when you  leave cupcakes cooling on your oven and then leave the room to go change a diaper.

I can’t win. I try to clean one thing and some tiny terror of a tot is right behind me messing up something else.

And as if to illustrate my point even further, please took at what my precious, precious offspring snuck off behind the couch to do while I wrote this post….


That’s Desitin. When I asked her what the  hell she was doing (and yeah, I used that exact phrase, the situation definitely warranted it), she replied, “I got a boo boo on my hoo hoo!” Apparently her make believe diaper rash required a full body application.

And as for her brother, he wasn’t up to anything much better:


Drug out shoes from the shoebox, a box that needs to be shipped, and my personal favorite, rifled through the disaster that has become my purse. All while pantsless. Did you think I was lying about that earlier???

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Saturday Confession

I was going to join Match.com. In fact, I did. I painstakingly filled out my profile. I poured over pages and pages of members last night. I even emailed somebody I thought was cute. And then today I went to Target. And I found these:



They were $24.99, coincidentally just about what I paid for one month on Match.  Being a single mom now, I rarely (and by that I mean never) buy myself anything so I couldn’t justify spending over $50 for frivilous stuff within a matter of days.

So what did I do? I bought the shoes, came home, hopped online and cancelled my account. Since it I was within three days, I got my money back. 

That’s right. I chose a pair of heels over potential dates. And I’m okay with this. Because those shoes are cute. And comfortable. And they make me feel sexy. The end result of what I was hoping to find on that stupid site anyways, only I’m sure my relationship with my crocodile pumps will last a lot longer.

Saturday, October 9, 2010

I’m a lazy shit.

Get your whining boots on people, because it’s on like Donkey Kong.

I can’t believe I haven’t updated this thing in like…what…. two weeks? Epic failure on my part. Do you want to know what happened in those two weeks? I lost two followers. So guess how super awesome THAT makes me feel? Sure it could have been the over share about pissing my pants that did it, but I tend to go the more negative route and blame my absence. That way it’ll eat at me every day. Now every time I play the God, I need to post about (fill in the blank with random shit) but Gaaawwwd, I’m so tired game, I’ll worry that if I don’t just suck it up and do it, my readers will start dropping like flies. If there’s any of you left.

And yes, I am superficial and worry about the number of followers I have.

Sue me.

Work has been draining me. Not the actual work portion of it, mind you, but the effort I have to put forth every morning to get everybody up and dressed and moving and out the door in a timely fashion. Then I have to go to work and do the job. And when I come home and the kids cry and hang on my leg, effectively giving me their very own unspoken toddler Fuck You, guess what? That makes me even more tired. So when they go to bed, want to know what I do? I sit my ass on the couch.

And I enjoy it.

Sometimes I watch hours of TV. Sometimes I fall asleep at 9:00. Sometimes I take an hour long bath. But most nights, I don’t even think to open my computer.

Sure there are numerous times throughout the day where I think Man, I wish I could update the ol’ blog, where I have dozens of thoughts swirling around in my head. But then…

Then I come home.

And Jesus, I’m tired.

So for those of you that have stuck around? Please continue to do so. I PROMISE I’ll be back soon.

I even have something to post!

But I’ll get to that tomorrow.

After I sleep.

Because Jesus, I’m tired. 

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Verbal Butt Pees

Week number two of work is winding down. That’s weird to say. Work. Maybe in a month it won’t seem so foreign to me. One thing I am pretty sure of is the novelty will have worn off by then and I’ll remember why I was so bajiggity to stay home in the first place.

Namely here is my one issue – besides missing my babies of course -  with being a working mom:

The whole job thing really puts the kibosh on activities I enjoy.

Like catching up on shitty reality shows on DVR while the kids nap. And blogging. And reading blogs for that matter. I opened up my Google Reader tonight and I had 763 new entries to read. What the shit?? I go to work where I can’t even open up a damn link to the weather and you people are all out here writing prose fifteen times a day. I have performance anxiety over the whole thing now, so thanks overachievers.

I have been trying to catch up the past few nights but just when I think I have it under control, I sign off for 24 hours, come back, and you biotches have added another 300 posts. Call me nuts but I actually read everyone I follow. I feel guilty if I don’t. Is that weird? Probably.

In another random news I’m sure you’re all dying to hear about ( because I know you were all wondering), I’m STILL COUGHING. It’s gotten to the point of being fucking ridiculous. I’m on day 26. No lie. My chest hurts, my sides hurt, I keep pissing my pants… I’m over it. Last night I Googled --- cuz you guys know how much I love to Google shit – the following: Can coughing damage your bladder? That was shortly followed by Lasting incontinence + violent coughing, and lastly my personal fave, Can you cough out your bladder?

Oddly I did not find any concrete answers. The only silver lining in my recent adventures in involuntary self-urination  is that after many instances of trial and error, I’ve finally discovered a way to combat the issue . In an ode to female solidarity, I feel I should share the secret with you: Overnight Maxi Pads. Oh yes. Like a big giant diaper. But I don’t just use one. Oh no, not with the amount of water I drink. I double bag that shit. Two pads. I overlap ‘em so I get extra coverage in the middle  but due to their erm…large presence, I basically wind up with a pad from my belly button to my ass crack. Sure it ain’t pretty (or okay, really all that comfortable), but no pain, no gain, and I’ll take waddling around with a fucking jerry rigged diaper on over pissing my pants any day. And just because I’ve already crossed jumped took a flying leap over the TMI line, let me also point out that I’m currently being visited from AF at the moment too. So not only do I the sanitary napkin equivalent of a roll of Bounty paper towels  chafing my lady bits, I also get the pleasure of trying not to get my tampon string stuck in a God damned Always wing.

Needless to say, I’m ready for winter to come and kill off all the shit that’s making me cough. Hear that, Mother Nature? 95 on the first day of Autumn today was some bullshit. BULLSHIT. Take note please. I’d like to make it to October without pissing out my bladder.


Whew. I feel a bit better after that rant. Since I’m incapable of taking deep calming breaths, bitching seems to be just what the doctor ordered. Maybe I can actually sleep now.

Until the coughing starts again of course.


Catch ya’ll on the flipside, I’m sure by the time I punch my password back into Google tomorrow, you’ll have all written thesis papers or something.  To distract yourself from furthering my “I’m not good enough” feelings, go check out the fabu  Mrs. Mootz over at a{museing} mommy... on a pink park bench. I get the pleasure of guest posting there today (tomorrow, whatever, it’s close enough to Friday) so if the mental image of me in my Maxi Pad Splendor hasn’t scared you off, click HERE and go read some more of my randomness.

And if you’re feeling all clicky happy, why not go pretty please throw me a *VOTE*too? Sure I may smell like your Depends-wearing senile relative in the nursing home, but at least I’ll stay in the top 10 for funnies, right?

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Goooo Cawdnals!

Wow, two posts in a row. Thank you, steroids!! Last night..er Wednesday night,whatever you want to call it since it’s now officially after midnight, marked Nut’s annual trip to a St. Louis Cardinals game. For those who haven’t figured it out, we’re diehards in this house so I’m excited I get to pass the obsession love on to my kids even if I do think the team has given me an ulcer this year. Last night was doubly exciting since it was her very first Cub/Cardinal game.  Too bad they lost. Horribly. As I expected. I need my Tums now.

But I digress. I think the medicine has given me some sort of temporary ADD also because I can’t focus for the life of me. Nut absolutely loved it. When we got close enough to STL to see The Arch, she started bouncing in her seat yelling, “Baseball, Mama! Go Cawdnals! Hit da bawl!” I guess since you can see it in the background when they play, she recognized it from TV.  I just couldn’t go to bed tonight without sharing some pics of Nut’s first three games:

September 2008. 6 months old.



September 2009. 18 months old. 



September 2010. 2.5 years old.



I can’t believe how big she’s gotten!!  And just for fun, here’s some cute ones of her enjoying – which she did, let me tell you – the game:

IMG_4362 IMG_4364

IMG_4368 IMG_4350IMG_4357


ps: In case you’re wondering why Bug is absent from these photos… well, you’ve read my stories, would you take his squirrely ass somewhere he has to sit still? He can’t even make it three minutes, let alone three hours!!! By next year he should (hopefully) be calmed down enough to go. If not, there’s always HD, little buddy. Just like being there except you’re free to run around the house.

A Little Work, A Lot of Coughing

How has it been a WEEK since I last posted?!? I cannot believe how busy I am now that I have started working  again. For the bloggers that work full time, have kids, and still post a lot – you are super women! Seriously. Hell, even if you don’t have kids and you work and post I’m impressed because ::yawn:: all I want to do at the end of the day is sit on my ass.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. For reals.  I get up at 6:30, take a shower, towel dry my hair, brush my teeth, put on makeup, get dressed, wake up Nut, get her dressed, turn the TV on for her, get her milk and some breakfast, blow dry and do my hair, wake up Bug, get him dressed, get him some milk and breakfast, get them loaded in the car and dropped off at my mom’s all before 7:30. Yeah. I get tired thinking about the fact that I have to do that routine all over again in oh….. 6.5 hours.

I’m happy to report they are doing GREAT at my mom’s though, although  I do think I am sensing some resentment towards me. They are happy as clams to see when I walk in… for a total of maybe  five minutes and then the whining kicks in. It continues as I’m strapping them in their car seats, during the entire drive home, and then the entire time I try to fix dinner. Generally they will take a break long enough to eat their supper and then waaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh all over again through bath and bedtime routine.  I think it’s their way of telling me they’re pissed.

As for work, it’s going well. Or at least as well as four days worth of computer based HIPAA training can go. I am a speed reader though so I tend to be the first to finish and we can’t move on until the whole class is done. That can get a bit monotonous. I sat yesterday for hours. Literally. I met some fun girls that sit near me luckily so we’re keeping one another entertained as best we can. My only issue is that I can’t stop coughing. No, really. I cough all fucking day long. And then I cough some more. And oh wait, just when you look at a clock and think Gee, tuberculosis over there hasn’t coughed in five minutes, I then hack some more. Like a cat with a damn hairball. Raking, whole body coughs that cause me to gag and more often than not, piss myself. Thank you lasting souvenir from child birth. Panty liners are a girl’s – or a least a girl that had two kids in 18 months and pees herself if the wind blows wrong – best friend.

Not to be old and bitch about my health… well okay, that’s a lie because I’m going to…. but I am still feeling shitty from when I got sick at the end of August. I finally got in with my allergist tonight and it turns out I’m not even sick. What.the.hell. All it is is asthma. I’ve never had my asthma bother me like this, usually it just flairs up if I actually am sick. But this? Nah. Apparently ragweed – which is the thing I am most allergic too – is at an all time record high. Oh yay. Isn’t that lucky?!? What is it the youngin’s say; FML? Yeah. FML. Suck it allergies. Suck it weeds. Su—erm.

What was I saying?

Oh yes. The allergist. True to his usually medicine happy self, I was given a steroid shot, an IV drip of steroids, AND a breathing treatment filled with – you guessed it! – more steroids! I was also given a high dose of Prednisone (yet again, a steroid) and instructions to take 4-6 puffs of my inhaler ever 3 hours as needed. Holy hell. This was all after 6pm; it’s 12:15 right now and I’m high as a flippin’ kite. My face is tingling. Literally. I have so many steroids coursing through my veins, I’m too buzzy to sleep. Don’t get me wrong, I’m exhausted, I just can’t calm down.

On a very random side note… do you think I’ll get Roid Rage? Hmmmm….

Thursday, September 9, 2010

The next American Idol


My kid’s a rock star. A sideways rock star since Mommy is an idiot and can’t remember to turn her phone the right way to take video, but a rock star nonetheless. And yes – Bug’s real name is Reid. I’ve managed to unveil his secret identity in the process of showcasing his talent. Epic fail!

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

(Not-So) Wordless Wednesday: Preschool!

Well I made it through yesterday’s 1st day of preschool without as much of an emotional breakdown as I thought. I guess the fact that my daughter could not have cared less that I was leaving helped dry the tears. Seriously. She skipped to the car, wouldn’t even stand still to take a picture:

preschool That’s a look of sheer excitement, huh? Traitor.

Babbled alllll the way there, practically sprinted across the parking lot. Gave me The Look when I delayed her descent down the steps for more pictures:

preschool3 Picture? Bitch, please.


And when we got the room, she just walked off and left me. No hug, no kiss, no please-don’t-leave-me-Mommy:

preschool2 Salt in the wound, CHILD I GREW, salt in the wound…

When I went to tell her goodbye, my eyes welled up with tears.

Mommy’s gonna go now, okay? I’ll be back later. You have fun and be a good girl. I love you, Princess.”

Very Hallmark Movie moment. Until she replied.

Wook, Mama! I got a chicken! Bawk bawk bawk!”

Gee thanks.  Couldn’t she have thrown me a bone and at least pretended she wasn’t pumped to be there?

Le sigh.

Monday, September 6, 2010

Misc Monday: Cloudy with a chance of tears

Miscellany Monday @ lowercase letters



(one) Tomorrow marks the beginning of the end of my stint as a stay at home mama. It is also Nut’s first day of preschool. Conditions are favorable for me blubbering like a baby.

(two)  Saturday was spent on a road trip up near Chicago to hit up Ikea. Not because I was planning on buying anything, mind you, but because I wanted to see if I liked a couch as much in person as I do in the catalog (PS: I do. Maybe more.) While there, I decided to utilize the GPS on my Droid to get from Home Furnishing Heaven to the mall. I was pretty impressed as my phone immediately pinpointed my location and began spewing out directions: Go straight 400 feet. Turn right on Golf Rd. Turn Left in 500 feet….. Yeah, I looked up and the mall was literally ACROSS THE STREET. I felt like a dumbass.

(three) Thanks to the ol’ TCP discount – as well as their Labor Day sales – I picked this cute little number up for Nut today:


Not for Halloween, mind you, just because…. well I don’t know why. Because I have Mommy guilt about my impending job perhaps? Because she is spoiled? Because I can’t walk into that store without buying something? Regardless of the reason, she looks pretty stinkin’ cute in it, no? Boots and all.

That’s all I have for today. I’m tired and burnt out on doing anything that requires more brainpower than sitting on my couch in a daze. Luckily for me,  the RHONJ reunion (part 2) is about to start. Let the brain rotting commence!

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Things that make ya go poo

I’m not sure what is causing my stomach to feel like it’s rotting from the inside out, but I’ve narrowed it down to three possible suspects: All the Sudafed, all the Pumpkin Spice lattes, or all the Prednisone.

I have been poppin’ the Sudafed like they were Pez for the last week; no problems. I mixed in the Prednisone Wednesday night; no problems (aside from acting like a fricking psycho). I mix both with a grande PSL yesterday; whooooaaaa buddy. I swear my intestines were attempting to break out of my body in an effort to wrap themselves around my neck and strangle me

I have a sneaking suspicion the culprit in the trifecta may be the lattes, but I’m living in denial. And by sneaking suspicion, I mean I’m pretty durn convinced. And by living in denial, I mean I’m still going to go run by Starbucks tomorrow morning. And by run, of course, I mean drive. Because I’m lazy. And my stomach hurts too bad to actually do any physical activity.

See, here’s the thing about Starbucks coffee: It makes me poop. It don’t know what it is. I’ve Googled it (seriously. I Google everything.), but every  thing I read points to the caffeine in it being a stimulant. I don’t drink caffeine. My lattes are decaf. What mystery ingredient makes me have to go??

After careful research (i.e. another trip through the drive-thru this evening) and successful, albeit unpleasant  results, I think I finally figured out the reason why:

My mind starts analyzing the fact that I spent $4.71 on flavored milk with a shot of coffee in it and flips out.

$5.00 on coffee? AGAIN?!? Are you SHITTING me, Nic?!?

Why now that you mention it, yes, yes I am.


Friday, September 3, 2010

5Q Friday: At least the dog's not Emo.

Ugh. Septemeber is here and it brought with it my allergies (damn you, cornfields and ragweed!!), cooler weather, Pumpkin Spice lattes (I'm obsessed with them. Really.), and of course an illness or two. Or actually three, since the kids and I are all sick. If I was a man, I'd whine and tell you I was dying, but since I'm a woman, I'll just bitch about it. Upper respiratory infection and laryngitis. Seriously. C'mon immune system. Do your job! My head is so congested, I can't hear, can't taste, and can't breathe. I'm popping Sudafed like candy, Robutusin for the cough, my inhalor for the chest crud, aaaannnd my favorite (ha), Prednisone for the.. well, I don't know what. Because I went to the urgent care clinic and asked for a steroid shot to clear me out and they refused, I suppose. I wish my allergist was in the office 24/7. He woulda stuck in the hip, patted me on the head, and sent me on my merry way. Wait. That sounded kinda dirty, didn't it? Well you know what I mean. I hate taking Prednisone because it makes me a RAGING LUNATIC. Hello, PMS in a pill? I'm hungry, I'm irritable, and I'm wound up. I guess if I had to get sick, it's better to do it now instead of after I start my job, right? Right.

Moving on... time for a lil' 5 Question Friday with Mama M! Who’s excited??? I know I am, because that whole bitch/moan/complain thing about my plague was getting O-L-D.


1) What do you do when you have time to yourself?

Erm….what? Time to… myself? Wait, does that happen to mothers?? If so, I sooooo got shafted on my benefits package as the domestic engineer of this household. I thought by growing and popping out humans, I signed away my rights to anything resembling personal space and/or me time. Hmmmmm. Interesting concept. A foreign one, no doubt, but still interesting.

If I had any of this so-called, mythical “free time”, I would sleep. Possibly for days. And I’d watch television shows I wanted to when they were actually on, instead of DVR’ing them for later. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve seen a commercial?!? I actually miss them.

Actually that’s probably all a big fat LIE. The kids will be with their dad this weekend and what’s on my list of things to do? Laundry. Lots of it. And cleaning the bathrooms. And going through the kids’ summer clothes to pack away. And mopping the floor. And rearranging my newly half-vacant closet. So in essence my free time has gone right out the damn window. It’s best I didn’t even know such a thing existed. Ignorance is bliss, as they say.

2) When you look out your kitchen window, what do you see?

Outside my window, I see a red bird singin’, sittin’ on a wire Wish I knew what he was thinkin’.                                                     Outside my window… 

Sorry, anytime I hear that phrase, I get that Sarah Buxton song in my head. It’s a catchy lil’ ditty.

Outside my window, I actually see my dumbass dog and the shit he’s decided to chew up today. I know I say it over and over, but he really is on his last leg as a member of this household. Anybody live on a farm and want a pup? He’s great with the kids but doesn’t like being indoors and looks at my backyard as his own personal chew toy. Just ask my internet cable. And utility box. And sandbox. And siding. And sliding screen door. And gutter extenders. And Dish Network cable. And Little Tikes Swing n’ Slide Castle. And doll stroller. And patio chair. And water table. And grill accessories. And citronella candle. And push toy. And ride on pony. And the fifteen play balls that have all met their demise.

Now that I think about it, that dog really needs to go. Any takers???

3) Who/What would you want to be reincarnated as?

I have absolutely no idea. Can’t I just say myself? Only a thinner, more successful, richer version? I’d also want vibrant, shiny, full, thick hair. And a trust fund.

4) What is your biggest pet peeve about other people’s kids?

Seeing as how I have the whiniest 2 year old known to man, my tolerance level is pretty high. But do you know what pisses me off? Teenagers. God, there are some smug little bastards out there!  Wearing their weird skinny jeans and Chuck T’s and other ugly shit from the 80’s that should not have been brought back in ANY decade, let alone this one, sporting Justin Bieber haircuts and pretending their lives suck SO much that they need to be all  Emo and frown all the time with their woe-is-me attitude. I took the kids to the park last weekend and there was four of them lounging around ON THE PLAY EQUIPMENT, with a pissed off look on their faces, as if all the tots running around were a nuisance. I shit you not. There was two sitting on the steps, one playing a guitar, while the other had a notebook. I actually heard the following “lyrics” – and I use the term loosely because Lennon and McCartney they were not - “Sitting at the playground, trying to make up a soooong. But it’s so hard because it’s loud and my silence is goooone.”  Um, excuse me dumbasses but perhaps you should do your hippie bullshit elsewhere. As if there depressed warbley singing wasn’t enough to make me want to grab their pencil, gouge my eye out, and skull fuck myself, they also had two cohorts laying down – yes LAYING – against the rock climbing wall attempting to draw. I peeked at their page and what were they sketching? Equally depressing weird looking anime crap where everyone was frowning. For the love of all that is good in this world, ride your bikes to a coffeehouse or something. Or go make good use of the REST OF THE QUIET, OPEN SPACE you halfwits!! Eventually I stood off to the side with another parent and though we weren’t discussing them at all (other than a few snide comments), I stole enough glances at them to make anime drawer self conscious and they left. I swear I almost applauded.

5) Regular or Diet Soda?

Diet. And caffeine free. Because I rarely find this when I’m out, I’m not much of a soda drinker.  If you ever invite me over (you know you want to, I’m a good time) and are wondering what kind to buy, I prefer Caffeine Free Diet Dr. Pepper. It’s oh-so-good.

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Thursday, September 2, 2010

Where to begin…

I keep asking myself that question. As you all know, I’ve had a busy busy crazy weird last few days. But you know what? I’m okay. Maybe reality hasn’t sunk in all the way, maybe I’m in denial…. or maybe, just maybe I really am okay. Whatever it is, I am feeling at peace and taking a whatever will be, will be approach to my life. If you know me IRL, you know optimism isn’t exactly my strong point. But I’m trying. And it’s working.

Keeping in that spirit, I’m going to do my first ever Thankful Thursday post. It is Thursday, right?…. :: checks calendar:: Yes, Thursday. And ps: How is it already September?!?!?  Sigh.

Things I am thankful for the last week:

* My kids. As much as they drive me batty with their antics, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I had my first evening away from them last night and it.sucked. It was quiet in the house and I had NO idea what to do with myself from 6:30-8:00, when I would normally be in the midst of the bedtime routine. Love the chaos, love the noise, love my babies.

* Friends that were there for me over the weekend. That aforementioned bff from TN? Yeah, she rocks. And is my rock at times. Luv ya, lady. :)

* The old woman at Target who took it upon herself to tell Nut she knew Santa and would pass on the message that she had been a good girl all year. **coughcoughyeahright** After that, my 2 year old handed over the $50 Jessie doll she was carrying around (convinced I was buying it no matter how many times I’d told her no) without so much as a whimper, just so that “Mrs. Clause” could take it to the North Pole. God bless that woman! Every time Nut’s thrown a fit for something since, I mention one Mr. S. Clause and she immediately stops.

* That I got a job. I HATE that I’m leaving my kids – all of ‘em, even the two I babysit – but I am SO thankful I was able to not only get the offer in today’s economy but that I did so after not working (besides my p/t retail gig) for so long.  It boosted my confidence, lemme tell ya  - not to mention my checkbook.

* Pumpkin Spice Lattes. Oh, Starbucks how I love you and your overpriced refreshments. Now if the weather would just cooperate enough for me to switch from the iced decaf to the hot, frothy one, I would be in heaven. Take note, Mother Nature. I’m ready for fall.


I just noticed I have 99 followers. 99!!!  Just one away from triple digits! In honor of the momentous occasion, I’ve decided to do a GIVEAWAY!!! That’s right! If I get just one more follower, taking the number to the big 100, I’ll give…..

myself a trip to the hair salon!!!!!


Wait, did you think I was going to give you all something??

Yeah, no sorry. I’m on a budget, people.

And my hair is bad. Really bad.


I mean, just look at that! The roots! Ugh. Excuse the weird bald spot I have going on. It was roughly around 136 degrees out and my hair was sweaty and laying in a weird way. Also, I hadn’t washed it in two days. Obviously, I wasn’t planning on being in any photos.

What was I saying??? ……

Oh yes. If you’re stopping by for the first time, please follow. You’ll get a few laughs and be supporting a good cause:

Fixing my effed up hair.



ps: Also, if you’re feeling really charitable, can ya give me a lil’ clicky love please? In my absence from the internet, I slipped a spot in the humor category on Top Mommy Blogs. Apparently I’m the only one who votes for my blog. Nice. Anways, A VOTE FOR ME IS A VOTE FOR....

well, still me. But do it anyways. Pllleeeeaassee!

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

(Not-So) Wordless Wednesday: I’m baaaaaack!



Tonight I’m queuing up Peaches and Herb, turning down the lights, climbing into bed…. and playing BeJeweled Blitz.

Internet, I will never forsake thee again.

Sing it with me… I was a fool to ever leave your side. Me minus you is such a lonely ride……

Friday, August 27, 2010

Auto reply: Nic will be out of the office

Well not really. But I am going to internetless for a few days. Five of them to be exact.


What will I do without the world wide web at my finger tips?? I’ve never gone more than 24 hours without playing Bejeweled on Facebook!


DH is transferring our current internet account and I’m switching carriers. I called Tuesday but they were booked for an entire WEEK!! Don’t they know I need my fix?!? Shouldn’t my addiction give me priority? Did they not get the memo about what I have going on this weekend? I need the distraction, people of AT&T!!

Okay, so I have internet access on my Droid. And yeah, it’s pretty damn good so I can get on most of the websites I frequent. And by most I mean all. *Except* I can’t play Bejeweled. Stop the presses. This is a problem. I have a problem.

Going cold turkey can’t be good, can it??

I can already feel the withdrawal symptoms starting.

Le sigh. If you need me, I’ll be rocking in the corner.

Thursday, August 26, 2010


I got offered a job today.

I accepted.

Starting in mid-September, I will no longer be a stay at home mom.

I’m happy.



The thought of not being with my kids every day, all day kills me.

This has been my identity for so long.

My reason for being. MY house. MY kids. MY rules. MY routine.

But I know it is for the best. Financially it is a smart move.

But I’m still sad.

So much change in such a short period of time. 


Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Wordless Wednesday: Puss in Box




No animals were harmed in the making of this photo. While I may or may not have been the one to put the cat in the box, he was more than welcome to escape leave at his own free will at any time…. which he chose not to do…. for 35 minutes. Besides, the TRY ME! opening totally allowed for oxygen to pass through.

Holding On

When I got married, I told myself we were doing the right thing.

I loved my husband.

I was pregnant.

I believed him when he said our problems would solve themselves.

I silenced the inner voice that told me something wasn’t right.

Maybe it was the fact that I had never imagined my wedding day as a shot gun ceremony, thrown together in less than a week, and kept secret from everyone.

Maybe it was because I wanted to shout to the world that I was a WIFE, that somebody was my HUSBAND and instead we stayed mum and pretended to only be engaged in an effort to include everyone in our big, white wedding ceremony planned for 11 months later.

Regardless of the doubts, I loved him. God, I loved that man. And so I hung on.

Whatever it was – or wasn’t – I remember being whole heartedly blissfully happy after we said our I Do’s. I was married to the man I loved, we had a baby on the way… what more could I ask for?

If I’m being honest though, things weren’t all that blissful in our relationship. Now that our divorce is imminent, I’ve found myself dissecting it, piece by piece, month by month, year by year, trying to find where the problems started. Somewhere there had to be a leak, a crack in the foundation that spread and festered and infected Us until we crumbled.

DH and I had a very passionate relationship. We met on New Year’s Eve, started dating on Valentine’s Day, and thanks to a tornado that blew down half my house, were living together by St. Patrick’s Day. By Easter I’d met his parents and by Memorial Day he left for Iraq. I wonder sometimes if it wasn’t for those big events, the tornado and the deployment, if we would have loved as hard and as fiercely as we had.

Before he went to Iraq, we were together constantly, completely wrapped up in each other. We were – and are - two very different people. We used to laugh about the opposites attract cliché. I am social, I love people, I loved going out with my friends, happiest when I’m with a group laughing. I had a huge circle of people I hung out with and never went a day without something to do. My husband is the opposite. A very small group of friends, not very social, happiest to sit by himself. The things I enjoyed – concerts, the bars where everyone danced, the nights where my friends and I just hung out and played board games – were far from his idea of fun. I am more adaptable, more go with the flow, the one who would compromise – or bend, perhaps – to keep the peace. Yes, there were tons of times we went and did the things he claimed to hate. But once we were living together and he flat out refused to go, more often than not I stayed home with him, did what he wanted to do. That’s not to say he asked me to stay, that I was a prisoner or that I resented him for it because that’s not how it was at all. Looking back now, I don’t even think I realized (or minded) the pattern I was setting because I just wanted to be with him. Cuddling on the couch watching Ali G reruns was a change from what I was used to, but whatever we did together was great because we were just that – together. In a matter of months, I became one of “those girls” I hated without even knowing it was happening.

When he came back from his summer deployment, we were so happy to see each other that things were at an all time high. I couldn’t get enough of him and vice versa. I can honestly say that the month after he returned was probably the best of the entire five years we were together. We took weekend getaways, a vacation, went to baseball games, and hung out with friends. I had fun, I was head over heels with somebody who got me, made me laugh, and best of all, was head over heels for me too.

But things changed. The new wore off. The arguments increased. But I loved him. So I hung on.

The invitations with friends gradually dwindled away and when I did accept, I was so annoyed with the bombardment of where are you going, who are you going with, how much are you going to drink, when are you going to be home questions, that more often than not, it wasn’t even worth the night out. I went from an independent, do what I want and to hell with all of you girl to a love sick puppy. I felt like I lost myself. Reading this you’re probably thinking he was being controlling. Honestly though, I don’t see it as that. I was never told where I could and couldn’t go, wasn’t fearful to accept an invite. In contrast, he often encouraged me to go do things with my friends. I just figured in the grand scheme of things, a night out wasn’t worth the headache of an argument so I just didn’t go. Does that make any sense?

As is the cycle, things got good again. Awesome in fact. I think the best way to describe our relationship was that when it was good, it was great and when it was bad, well….. we fought and we fought hard. Both of us stubborn, both of us wanting the last word. He knew what to say to hurt me and I was the queen of the smart ass zingers. Although we planned on getting married, there were several times we considered calling things off. But since I loved him, I hung on.

I truly believe if we hadn’t been living together that we would have split. But I also truly believe that God had a plan and that things happen for a reason. And His plan for us, the purpose of our entire relationship, was to have the two beautiful children we do. When I look back on everything, I can’t regret him and I never will. Regretting him would mean regretting my kids.

It became apparent the fall after Nut was born that we were not happy. At least not in regards to each other. We were over the moon with our daughter, how could we not be, but as a unit, as husband and wife, something was astray. There were promises to change on both our parts. Promises were broken. There was talk of separating, talk of who would get this and that. The talk stopped. Because I loved him….. I held on.

Gradually, things did get a little better. I got pregnant with Bug a few months later. And then things fell apart again. The arguments were an almost daily occurrence, the snipping at each other, the criticizing, the nit picking, the disdain, the tension. I could feel it all the time. It was like having a weight on my chest. The things I wanted to say I kept to myself, let the anger boil my blood. When I finally did open my mouth to voice my frustration, it was an all out war. I was bitter, I was resentful, and I was PISSED.

Because of this, I tried to avoid the fighting, swallowed my pride and just held on. The damage was done though. It was us, it was what we did, how we worked. I realized I hated it, hated the up and down cycle. That wasn’t how a marriage was supposed to work. Yes there was going to be good times and bad, but the latter shouldn’t outweigh the other. We both deserved more. Better. We stopped sleeping in the same bed last July. After Bug was born in August, I told DH we had a year to change things, a year to finally make it better, or I was done. I took my wedding ring off in October and haven’t worn it since. I checked out. I was already done. I was tired of feeling like I lived my life walking on eggshells, tired of not being happy. We both readily admitted we were miserable and didn’t want to be together so why drag things out?

This is not to say the last year has not been hell on me. On both of us really. It is very hard to try to explain our split to people who haven’t been here in our shoes. It wasn’t a knee jerk reaction to a few arguments here and there. It’s not a phase. It won’t get better. We’re not just at a low point. We were holding on tight for long enough…but now it is time to let go.


Mama's Losin' It

Tuesday, August 24, 2010


Okay, the last three things in my title have absolutely NOTHING to do with... well, anything but I was on an acronym roll and couldn't stop. One of those days already.


Now go link up. All of you. I dealt with shitty Blogger instead of my beloved MSN Live Writer so I could hyperlink the photos and my blood is boiling at how effed up this stupid program is. So please appease me and participate. Remember the PMS? I'm a women on the edge!

Monday, August 23, 2010

A Sniffle and a Smile

Coming to you from my own weird state of Momminess today…. am I the only freak of nature that cries on her kids’ birthdays??? Even if I am, someone just humor me and say no. It is unfortunate that I PMS like a lunatic right around the celebration time but what can ya do? Let me just clear off my mound of tissues here so I can take you all back a year…. queue the sad music, maestro.



::sniffle:: Oh my God, he was so TINY! Wook at da widdle peanut! Isn’t he just da cutest widdle baby ev… Whoa. Slipped into baby talk there. Snap out of it, Nic!

Hard to believe we went from 6 lbs, 10 oz of squishy newborn to this 23 lb chunker of a little man:


And although he wasn’t born until 9:20 pm….


Happy 1st





Love, Mommy

Sunday, August 22, 2010

A Birthday for Bug

I can hardly believe that my little man turns 1 tomorrow. It seems like I wished away so much of his first year with my prayers that he grow out of his colic stage, his milk allergy stage, his constant crying phase, his Nocturnal Baby stage, his overly excessive pooing stage, his…. well, you get the point. Little man had a rough start and although it has been well over a year since I have slept through the night, I wouldn’t trade him for the world. If they ever invent Baby Ambien though, I’d still offer him up for the clinical trials…just so long as I got him back at the end of the day of course.

Yesterday we celebrated the Big One with friends and family. I was nervous that our cookout would get rained out – biblical type flooding in my basement AGAIN late Friday night, GRRRRRR – but the weather held up and we had a great time. As much as I want to touch on the weirdness I felt telling my in-laws good bye, as if there was a sense of finality in those hugs, I won’t. At least not yet. This is happy post weekend, remember?? And because I have been a picture postin’ fool the last week, the required photos:

IMG_4178 DSC02031

DSC02033IMG_4182 DSC02059 DSC02052DSC02060 IMG_4228 

The last one is my very favorite, he is definitely wearing a holy shit look. Every time we were at Target the last few months – and okay, we all know that is a lot – he was mesmerized by the overpriced robotic  Buzz Lightyear they had on display. Since we were kind of at a loss as to what to get the baby whose favorite toys are electrical cords and the garbage can, DH decided he needed the Buzz. I really truly think Bug was in shock when he opened it. I’m sure he’ll be in shock again if he’s ever allowed to play with. Nut has high jacked it, currently the two are taking a nap together, convinced that it is real. She keeps responding to Buzz’s questions  -“Are you still there? “Yeah, Buzz. I here. I payin’ wit the farm.” – and offering him snacks. Last night she was in the kitchen and said, “C’mon Buzz. Walk in here pease!” I’m not sure how to explain to her he is just a toy. She has watched Toy Story so much, she’ll probably think I’m lying. Oh well. It’s at least entertaining to watch.

I’m sure tomorrow I’ll be extra weepy (and probably spend the better part of my day sniffling over Bug’s newborn pics) but I’ll survive. Little guy still has one more gift to open – a Little Tikes Cozy Coupe – which means his sis still has one more gift to steal.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

A Healthy Dose of Happy

This post is going to be a hodgepodge of things that made me happy over the last few days. I know next week is going to suck and as a forewarning, I will be mopey as hell, so this weekend is all about things that put a smile on my face. Literally. It’s mostly pictures. And most of them were taken by my friend Amy, who I am so glad is up for a visit right now. We have been friends since since we were freshman in high school and while I hate that another mom had to go through the colicky, milk allergy, cry nonstop, non-sleeping, acid reflux, little turd of a baby too, I am soooo thankful I had someone in the same boat. We became our own little support group and I swear that was the only way I got through those hellacious first six months with my sanity (mostly) intact. She’s really been a lifeline for me the last year and I know I’m lucky to have a friend like that.

Why do I feel like I was giving some sort of acceptance speech? Oh well. Moving on… pictures at the park!

DSC01704   DSC01761 DSC01858 DSC01768  DSC01896DSC01852 DSC01788


Amy and the kids stayed the night that night, which meant the mamas hit up the wine bottle(s) after they bambinos were snoozing. And hit them up we did…


And now, because I like laughing at myself, I give you my future online dating site profile picture. Please try to contain yourself at the hotness:


That’s right, I *heart* you. The suitors should be lining up outside my door after that. Take a number boys, take a number.

Coming tomorrow…pics of Bug’s 1st birtday party ::sniffle::!!