What came first, the chicken or the egg...

That is a classic question... one that has baffled the experts for generations (okay, maybe not). I think a similar question would be... who is the bigger idiot, the 13 year old boy who stole his dad's keys and crashed the car into the front of the house collapsing a wall and causing $3,000 in damage, or the dad who left his 13 year old son home alone for three days while he went to Vegas?

Ahhh yes, this is my dilema for the week.

So first off I will say that this has taken me a couple days to write. While I was calm on Wednesday, I was absolutely livid on Thursday. Today is Friday and I'm feeling calmer again so I will continue on with the story. For this blog, I will call T's father "Dbag". You can figure out what it stands for. I will try to keep it short, but it is a long story so please bear with me.

So, on Wednesday afternoon I receive a call from Dbag. He proceeds to tell me that he has something to tell me, but he didn't want to stress me out and what happened is totally his fault and he is taking full responsibility for what happened. He also says that I should not punish T and that he will handle it, but that he would like us to all get together on Saturday to discuss what he is about to tell me. Okay. He then tells me that two WEEKS ago, T took Dbag's car keys when Dbag was gone from the house. T was taking out a bike and needed to move the car to do so. However, when T got in the car, he hit the gas instead of the brake and crashed the car into the front of the house, smashing in a wall and causing $3000 worth of damage. Dbag is REALLY upset but wanted to warn me because if T is stealing his car keys, he could be stealing mine. So we hang up and I think to myself "how did T drive Dbag's car if Dbag wasn't home". It wasn't connecting in my brain, but I've been so stressed this week, I didn't think too much about it.

So I come home and T is in the kitchen loading the dishwasher. This is still Wednesday so there is NO WAY I am going to wait until Saturday to discuss this with T. I want him to know IMMEDIATELY what will happen if he EVER touches my keys or my car without permission. As I start laying into him, he interrupts me to ask if I know the WHOLE story. Well, I guess I haven't heard the whole story... so what am I missing I ask. T then tells me he can't tell me cuz his dad told him not to tell me. Alarms in my head started to go off. I inform T that if his dad EVER tells him not to tell me something, that is EXACTLY when he needs to tell me. So T then informs me that yes he crashed the car, but not while his dad was at work, but while he was in Las Vegas. Okay.... when did your dad go to Vegas I ask... "the day before his birthday". Okay, so this crash happened on a Friday, Dbag's birthday was on a Thursday which means he left for Vegas on Wednesday morning!!! So I ask T, "are you telling me that your father left you home alone for THREE DAYS!?!?!" YUP!!!!

So as it turns out, Dbag left my child home alone for THREE days being a dog sitter while he went off to party in Vegas for his birthday. As I said, this is already a long blog and there is a lot of information so I'll try to wrap this up with a sumamry, but the elaborate lies that went into this whole thing just amaze me. I even spoke to Dbag on his birthday and he PRETENDED to be at work.The worst part is, Dbag's entire family knew T was home alone and not ONE person called to tell me. Who the @#$%^ leaves a 13 year old boy home alone for THREE days??? If you ask me, Dbag is LUCKY all that happened was $3000 worth of damage to his stupid house because it could have been A LOT worse. Every time I think of what could have happened, I feel that rage, combined with pregnancy rage already in me, rise up in me and it takes everything I have not to drive to Dbag's work and punch him in his dumb face. With a bat.

The BEST part of this is, when I confronted Dbag about the situation he tells me "well he had been so well behaved the entire month of July when I had him. You don't understand, he was like an angel. I trusted him." Uhhhhhhh, generally if you have a 13 year old boy who behaved well for a few weeks, you take him to get an ice cream cone or even a video game. If he has been exceptionally good, maybe you get him the shoes he's been wanting... you don't LEAVE HIM HOME ALONE TO DOG SIT FOR THREE DAYS!!!!! Haven't you ever seen "Home Alone" or ANY John Hughe's movie!?!?!?! I don't even leave my DOGS home alone for three days!!!

So, as of now, T is not allowed over at Dbag's house. Dbag and I exchanged some words and T will not be going over there for a visit anytime soon. Eventually he will be allowed back there to visit, but there will be no overnight visits for a LONG time, at least for the rest of 2009. I am very conflicted on punishing T because on one hand, he took the car and he covered for his dad, but on the other hand, it is TOTALLY Dbag's fault for putting him in that position.

The moral of the story is, do not get knocked up by retards when you are 17 because apparently you will pay for it THE REST OF YOUR LIFE.

A short conversation...

So Ehee and I were laying in bed last night and he started poking my belly. He was annoyed because T finally got to feel the baby last night and Ehee still isn't 100% convinced that he has felt him (although he has). Here is the conversation that followed:

Me: It's only ten o'clock... he's not ready to party yet. He is pretty much like clockwork… he gets rowdy at about 10:30 pm and 5:30 am.

Him: So will that be his schedule?

Me: uhhh, are you serious?
Him: Well I mean, that’s when you said you feel him.

Me: Ummmmm, you do realize for the first month or so, they basically get up every 2-3 hours don’t you?

Him: Are you kidding me?

Me: Are you kidding me??

Him: Have fun with that!!

He then quietly mentioned something about killing himself. Hahahahaha

Other tidbits from the weekend... T entered his first BMX race on Friday. I went out to dinner with some girlfriends and Ehee surprised T by taking him down the track. He was really nervous and he came in last place in each othe races, but he ended up loving it and wants to do it again this week. I left my friends early so I could run down to the track to watch him and made it just in time for his final race. He did great and I can't wait to watch him improve as he gets more comfortable. Also, as I mentioned above, he got to feel the baby kicking last night. He was SO excited!! It made me so happy to see and hear his excitement =)

And a final note to self: do not wear the "demi" maternity pants ANYMORE. For those of you who haven't seen a pregnant lady with a muffin top, let me assure you, it is NOT pretty. I have learned my lesson and will not be wearing these pants again anytime soon...

Puberty vs. Pregnancy

I have a whole new respect for my step-mother who was pregnant with her second baby when I was an out of control raging hormone at 17. Being pregnant with a child going through puberty in the house is NOT easy. The ATTITUDE, the whining, complaining, the volatile mood swings, the acne, the emotional outburts, the over dramatizing every little thing... that is puberty. Add sore boobs and wine withdrawals and you have me! Multiply by two and you'll wonder how Ehee has managed to stay sane these past few months...of course, maybe that explains his new scotch habit. (I am joking of course)

My 13 year old started 8th grade on Monday. It is now Wednesday and we are already having issues. "What kind of issues?" you ask.... GIRL ISSUES. Now, I must say that girls have gotten T in trouble since day one. When he was in kindergarten, he was in love with a fourth grader. It broke his little heart when she had a "boyfriend" who was her own age. When he was six, he was supposed to go to his friend/neighbor Ricky's house, but instead, took off on his bike four blocks away to a girl's house just so he could ride by it. And so it began.

The thing that worries me is that T is not they type of kid who has girls chasing him while he plays it cool... No. It is completely the opposite. T is a stalker. No, he doesn't do drive by's or boil bunnies, but he's not far off. He THROWS himself at these girls. I actually read a text message where he told a girl she was only the fourth girl he said "I love you" to. I am 32 years old and I don't think I've told four people I love them!! He kisses their little 13 year old behinds, and will bend over backwards for them all while literally begging to "git wit' dem". And they say boys can't multi-task! I have offered him advice, telling him that most girls want boys to ignore them, or tease them; but he doesn't listen and I should probably be glad he doesn't. Otherwise he would actually GET girls to go out with him and that would just cause more trouble. Instead, he has girls tell him things like "if you grow five inches I'll consider going out with you", or he gets stuck in the whole "you're my bestest buddy" trap. I guess I should just be thankful that he has zero game and the potential for girlfriends goes down each passing year as he becomes a bigger and bigger kiss a$$. I really hope he keeps his nice guy status and is everyone's friend because if I think we have problems now, I can't imagine how bad it would be if he got an actual girlfriend that didn't break up with him the next day at lunch because she is more interested in the kid who already has a full beard and a juvy record.

I guess I should just be thankful that he gets so excited when he gets to kiss a girl on the cheek in front of her friends at school (our issue this week because another boy saw and wanted to fight him over it). And I, as a proper mother, will really try to stop asking him which cheeks he got to kiss...

A pregnancy rant...

So here is my pregnancy rant from about a week ago. I'm adding it because I feel like this most days. Many of you probably already read it on my facebook, but if you haven't had a chance, here is the cleaner version :)

Okay... I need to get this out or I will punch a mo' fo' in the face. I don't know what in God's name gives people the idea that they have the right to judge me because I am knocked up, but it is running rampant in San Jose! FOR EXAMPLE:

1. Coffee: Yeah... I drink it. I have ONE tall iced coffee about two - three times a week. Not that I need to explain that to anyone, but guess what, you'd think I was ordering a friggen double Screwdriver in the morning. The stares, the comments... GET OVER IT. I can either have my 120 grams of caffiene or I can sleep at my desk and get fired. If my doctor says it is okay, then it is okay with me. I don't need some safeway checker making comments that my coffee looks too dark. SUCK IT and finish bagging my f'ing groceries.

2. Personal Space: If I do not know you, or I do not know you well.... DO NOT TOUCH ME. I don't want your dirty hands on my stomach and I have NO PROBLEM slapping your hand away. PERIOD. If you catch me when I'm irritable, it won't be your hand I slap.

3. Comments about my changing body: saying "OHMYGOSH YOU ARE GETTING SO FAT" while clapping does not make the comment cute. The clapping doesn't make the "FAT" comment any less rude or obnoxious. Yes... I get it, I'm five months pregnant, I was BOUND to get bigger. HOWEVER, an acceptable statement would be "you are starting to show". You call me fat, don't be surprised when I say right around the holidays that you look like you've really put on some weight. I am putting it on my calendar now to remind me to say it. B*tch.

4. Food intake: Okay really.... why the hell are you watching what I eat? Why do you praise me when you see me eating carrots or apples, but tell me my kid is going to have diabetes when you see me eating a cookie? I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were the f'ing food nazi and that I had to run all my meals by you. Do you WANT me to scissor kick you??

5. Scratching: Yes, I've heard the rumors... if I scratch my stomach I'm going to get stretch marks. Sooo, I guess since you see me still scratching it anyway, I DO NOT CARE! IT ITCHES!!!! I am the one who has to live with the consequences so get off my nuts about it!

6. Beautification: Just because I went and got myself knocked up doesn't mean I am going to stop coloring my hair or using astringent or using night cream. I'm sorry, but I don't plan to look like an Apalachan Mountain Woman. Unless you see me injecting these products directly into my belly, the baby is FINE. As a matter of fact, he doesn't want the first person he see's to be some crazy haired zit face with wrinkles. He told me. Now shut it.

Summary: Unless you see me injecting hair bleach into my placenta while taking shots of Jack and eating balls of crack as I jump on a trampoline and swan dive into a steaming hot tub, mind your own business.

PS. you can keep telling me how cute I look and baking me goodies... I never get tired of that ;)

The first blog...

Soooo... Here I am, five months pregnant and still slightly in denial I think. I know that may sound strange, but I think first off, you have to understand me. I am not one of those people who thinks pregnancy is a "miracle" or a "blessing" or that the little bit of pee that sneaks out when I sneeze is "precious". I'm not one of those women who will have a baby and then suddenly feel that my life is complete. My life was pretty darn good before I got pregnant, and while I know that this baby will add joy to my life, it is not going to complete my life. I try to remain as realistic as possible because if I start to become UN-realistic, let's face it, I'm only setting myself up for disappointment. And besides, this ain't my first rodeo! I know that along with all the smiles and joy babies bring, they also bring sleepless nights, throw up, spit up, poop, pee, colic, tantrums and eventually puberty (which I will also blog about on this page). Every once in a while I have a moment of clarity when I fully accept I am pregnant and I realize that is in store and I get sooo anxious! Mostly, I figure I'll deal with it when he (yes, it is another boy) gets here. Don't worry, I don't go out drinking or smoking crack or anything like that and I'm not going to give birth on a toilet seat or anything. I do realize I'm pregnant, I just don't think about what's to come...yet.

So, on that note... I will tell you about the name of my blog.

A little over a month ago I woke up to find that suddenly my belly was sticking out. Ummmm.... okay. I had literally gone to bed the night before with it looking one way, and woke up the next morning with a gut. That lead me to ask, is this the baby, or the burrito I ate last night? I really couldn't tell. My friends said it was maybe a little of both, but looking back, I'm pretty sure it was the baby... because it has NEVER gone back down! I'm not sure why that stuck with me all this time, but it has so that is the name of my blog.

By the way, thank goodness I am FINALLY out of that awkward stage where people are never quite sure if I'm pregnant, or if maybe I need to stop eating donuts.

So, I guess that will be it for this blog. I'm sure I'll write more as more comes up. I have a blog I wrote on another site I will probably add to this just because it is so relevant, however it is a bit vulgar so I will try to clean it up a bit before posting. And on THAT note... happy Monday to anyone who may have accidentally found this as I am not sending it out to friends and family quite yet!!