Welcome to my world. I *just* vacuumed... Wipe your feet before you come in.

Monday, January 28, 2008

Are you ready to RUMBLE?????

Maggie is despondent!

We let her watch "The Royal Rumble" last night. Yes, we shelled out $38.95 to let our little girl watch ::ahem:: pro wrestling.

She has "written" 3 letters to Rey Mysterio telling him how she likes the way that he "rassles" and that she hopes that he comes to our town so that she can meet him.

She has left these letters in the mailbox and thinks that the postman came & took them for her.
Is it me or she a bit too young for a Crush?

Well, her little heart was beaten to the mat with a steel chair last night when Rey lost his match to Edge. We were all lying in our bed watching the match & she was cheering and pumping her little fist when Rey would do his acrobatic moves. At the end, she was practically in tears yelling at the t.v. for Rey to "KICK OUT!! GET UP!!"

We simply held her & let her know that even though Rey Msterio may have lost that particular match, there's a Friday Night Smackdown in a mere 5 days and Rey should be back to his high-flyin' 619'ing self and hey, Mommy's favorite (Batista) got tossed out of the ring in the Rumble.

Oh, God. We're lame.

Monday, January 21, 2008

Let's hear it for the BOY!!




First off, let me just say, SURPRISE!!!


I am thrilled and honored to be invited to Julie’s Virtual baby shower.

We’re supposed to post little story/anecdote/tips about raising a boy-child. Since Julie IS a girl and has 2 daughters, there’s a little stress regarding the care & maintenance of a boy and his bits. Here are a few things you’ll need to know:

Yes. Boys and girls are different. In every way, shape and form. Not better or worse, just different. Maggie & Will are like night and day, with the exception that if you happen to lie on the floor, you become fair game. I was picking up the toys one night, and noticed a Polly Pocket shoe under the end table. I lay down on my belly to reach under the table & was immediately set upon by two screaming banshees. I guess it’s my own fault for letting them get hooked on WWE FRIDAY NIGHT SMACKDOWN, but DAMN! That Batista is Hott.

I, personally, have never been peed on by Will. Maggie has given me 2 golden showers. I guess when girls get out of the tub & the air is a little chilly…..the towel just isn’t enough to soak up the pee. He has, however, peed on the bathroom floor while we were waiting for the tub to fill. We have since adopted the “no-naked-baby-while-water-is-running-rule” in the house. Plus you can usually tell when a boy has to go. Yep, even the little guys get the “pee-pee hard-on”

Toys: Boys Toys are so much more fun than girls. Unless you really enjoy a cup of pretend tea & a plastic cookie on a teeny, tiiiny little chair.
Boys have the trucks, and the planes and the robots and balls. Oh! The balls! Will can barely run 10 feet without tripping over his big ol feet, but give him a ball and he will happily kick it all over the house.
A girl will grab a teddy bear & give it a big, squishy hug. A boy will grab a teddy bear & give it a good, hard, shake. Then a hug.
A girl will push a toy car back & forth saying, “broom, brrrrooom, Beep beep!” A boy will pick up the car, bang it on the glass top of your coffee table and yell at the top of his lungs. A girl will find a stick and stir her pretend soup with it. A boy will shoot you with it.

Clothes: Ok, the girls get this one. Boys clothing is just no fun to shop for. Sure, the first pair of jeans is sweet and they look so cute in their first little Hawaiian print shirt, but after that, meh.
Yes, you can find some funny t-shirts and really neat shoes, but for the most part, your boy is going to live in Osh*Kosh overalls and you will love the fact that yes, you *can* pick them up by the backs of the overalls.

BabyBits: I was a little leery with first few times changing Will. I actually had to call Joe in & ask him how far back to push the foreskin while cleaning his bits. Hey, I’ve never had foreskin to clean around, what do I know?

The Lovin’: Oh, the Lovin’. Will is a boy’s boy. He’s a rough & tumble kind of kid. If you ask for a kiss, nine times out of ten, he will say, “Neh”. But let him fall off of his trike, or Maggie knocks him over, and he will run to Mama and hold his arms up while standing on his tippy-toes. As soon as I scoop him up, the tears stop and he snuggles into my shoulder with his chubby little hands wrapped around the back of my neck, and he whispers, “Mama, awwww-aaaa-aaaww, yuv-ooo” and I just melt.

Congrats Julie, on the impending birth of the one guy who will love you his entire life, no questions asked.

I can hardly wait to “meet” him.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

Welcome back?

Well, Hi there! Yes it *has* been a while. What have I been up to, you ask?

There is so much to talk about, but none of it is anything I want to talk about.

Let me ‘splain. There is too much. Let me sum up. (in my best Inigo Montoya voice)

We are moving. Out of necessity, not desire. We didn’t find a bigger, better house, we had to find a smaller, cheaper house. NOT a happy time, very very stressful.

On Monday, my Mother-in-law had a heart attack. Early Tuesday morning, she had another (Thank God she was already in the hospital). I *Heart* my Mother in-law. No, really. She’s awesome! I wish she had taught her son to clean up after himself, but other than that, she’s a wonderful lady.

I’m so stressed out and I know I’m taking it out on the kids. Mostly Maggie as she’s the bigger of the two. I’ve yelled at her almost every day this week. This morning was the worst. We had come downstairs & I asked her to put her socks and shoes on while I packed the lunches. 20 minutes later, she is still barefoot. After I told her to PUT HER DAMNED SOX & SHOES ON, she finally tore herself away from morning cartoons and complied. While I was busy trying to wrangle Will into his coat, Maggie casually tells me that she “broke her coat”. My Mom got her a gorgeous Rothchild’s winter coat for Christmas. She was twisting the zipper pull and snapped the pull off the zipper thingy.

Look there, on the dining room floor. See that piece of straw? That’s the one.

I lost my ever-lovin’ mind. I was in her face, grabbed her by the front of her coat, SCREAMING, raw throat, face contorted, veins popping out, screaming how she is so irresponsible! That Me-Mom got her this beautiful coat & she broke it! She can’t have anything nice! She doesn’t take care of her toys, her room is always a mess, she can’t even follow simple instruction on putting!her!damn!shoes!on!!

Each one of these exclamation points was punctuated with a shake. Yep. I shook my kid. Not the violent shaken-baby-type-shake, but one of those point-making shakes. They’re not so bad, right? Every body does that, right? Don’t you? Oh. Please don’t call CYS on me, I don’t think I could take it.

Her big, gorgeous, blue eyes were wide with fear and then they welled up with tears. DUDE! There was fear in her eyes. I had scared her with my freaking out.
Needless to say, we were late this morning because I had to go back upstairs and fix my make-up after sitting on the dining room floor hugging and rocking my favorite little girl in the whole wide world and telling her over & over how sorry I was, how much I love her, that it wasn’t her fault, I know she didn’t do it on purpose, I’m the worst Mommy ever, I’ll see if I can fix the zipper thingy for her, etc.

I’m taking my frustration/stress/fear/anger that I should be accepting as my own and dealing with and I’m dropping them on her skinny little 4 year old shoulders. Yeah. I suck.