Miley Cyrus and the Downfall of Society... OR... You are a Prude, Get Over It.

I got pregnant two weeks before my 18th birthday. Did this happen because when I was 9 years old, I saw a video about a young teenage girl getting pregnant by her hot, yet greasy, boyfriend and telling her Papa to not preach? ORRRRR, did I get pregnant because I was a foolish girl whose parents didn't pay enough attention to her and never talked to her about getting on birth control even after they KNEW she was having sex? If you blamed Madonna, then this post is for you.

When I was 10 years old, a song called "I Want Your Sex" came out on the radio. There were two types of parents back then... the parents who just let us listen to it and sang along, and the parents, like my favorite aunt, who thought it was inappropriate for 10 year olds to sing and changed the radio station. Nowadays it seems we have three types of parents... the ones who sing along, the ones who turn the radio station, and the ones who blame those songs, music videos and musicians for raising their children wrong and ruining society.

I'll just get to the point... I am completely OVER everyone complaining about Miley Fucking Cyrus. The VMAs were weeks ago, and yet people are still posting all about it on social media. "My daughters love Hannah Montana, how am I supposed to deal with this!?!?!?!" Well, first of all, you should know that Hannah Montana was a fictional character created by a massive corporation to sell your children products, and boy did they ever make their money's worth. Second of all, the person who played the character of Hannah Montana is a REAL person, who is no longer a 15 year old girl and who is trying to experiment with her life to figure out who and what she is, just like 99% of us did at that same exact age. Did I necessarily want to see Miley's flabby baloney buns gyrating against a foam finger? No, not really. I found it sad, like she was trying too hard. Then I went back and found all the pictures of me with my tongue out trying to be crazy and obviously trying WAY too hard and thought... OHHHHHHH, I guess we'll all stupid at that age.

Here it is... if you don't want your child listening to Miley Cyrus or idolizing her, then don't let them listen to it. I know this is a horrible thought, actually taking CONTROL of what is influencing your children, but trust me, it is possible to do. I understand it is SO much easier to blame others for your failings as a parent, but you are only doing a disservice to yourself and your kids. Kids do not need to get everything they want. Period. I like all kinds of music, most of which is not appropriate for my three year old. So you know what I do?? This is amazing actually... when I am in the car with him, I listen to music that is appropriate for him to listen to. When he is OUT of the car, I put on my hard core gangsta rap or death Satanist metal and regress to my 17 year old self. I don't let him watch music videos that I don't think are appropriate, I don't watch TV shows in front of him that are inappropriate and I don't take him to rated R or PG-13 movies because, again, I find them inappropriate, and also I don't want to ruin other movie watchers good time by bringing a terrified toddler to a movie that is way too scary for his Disney Junior brain. I know!! It's amazing!! How do I live my life!?!? I can't tell if parents today are just selfish assholes who themselves want to watch the VMAs so they let their 6 year olds watch, or if they are so scared of saying "NO" to their children, they'll let them stay up until 10 pm on a Sunday so they can watch it. Either way, that is your failing... not the failing of a 20 year old girl.

I'll tell you right now what is destroying our society... participation trophies and vagina shorts. Participation trophies show our children that mediocrity is something you should be rewarded for, and vagina shorts show your daughter's vaginas. Maybe I'd take the parents bitching about Miley more seriously if they weren't the same mothers listening to Britney Spears in the car while riding around with their 10 year old daughters already wearing makeup and wearing vagina shorts. Just so you know, as much as I don't want to see Miley's flabby butt cheeks, I also don't want to see your 10 year old daughter struggle to keep her vagina in her shorts. And that is all I have to say about that.

Things I learned in the past week

#1. Do not watch any Nicholas Sparks movies while pregnant, no matter HOW bad the acting is. I can now say I cried at a Miley Cyrus movie. Awesome.

#2. Frozen dairy can pretty much solve all problems.

#3. Don't let your three year old help you use the juicer. My husband actually discovered this one... idiot.

#4. Adding on to #3, if you have to go to the emergency room, go at 7:30 am on a Monday. No lines!!

#5. My new due date is 3/17/2014, pretty much guarantying that I give birth to a ginger leprechaun. Or beer!

And one thing I didn't learn... how the heck do I add photos to this damn site? I used to just click on the picture, but now it acts like it is uploading and never does. I must investigate further...

Week 7

I went to the doctor last week and we saw the heartbeat, however we couldn't see much else. My doctor thinks I'm not as far along as the charts are saying. Thanks to the fact I got pregnant as soon as I got off the pill, I have no idea what my cycle is and so I don't know when I got knocked up either. Basically I'm going to estimate myself at about 7 weeks and we'll figure it out later.

My body has begun producing its own Hawaiian Dark Tanning Oil. The good news is, I'm pretty brown. The bad news is, I look like my chest has started taking meth because it is totally broken out and it is oily and DISGUSTING. Also, when it gets above 85 degrees, my ankles put on a protective coating of water giving me that ever sexy, very desirable CANKLE. It turns out, when I'm pregnant, I morph into Mama June (you know, honey boo boo's mama). I'm just waiting for my toes to start attacting flies (high five to you if you get that reference). My husband is one lucky sonofabizzzz.

I dont have much else to update as things are pretty normal around these parts. My admin did bring me a tub of ice cream in case of emergencies at work. She figured out pretty quickly that only frozen dairy products can soothe the firey pregnancy rage that pops up every once in a while.

PS. I have NO idea how to work this new HTML blog crap, so just pretend there is a photo of me eating ice cream right here <---

Surprise! Week 5

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away… in the land of Delusion, there was a beautiful young princess. She met her prince, fell in love and got married. Soon after, she was blessed with her perfect pregnancy. Her cravings included organic tomatoes and fresh green salads and coffee enemas. She never got swollen fingers, or had problems putting her shoes on because her feet had doubled in size and they now looked like Fred Flinstone’s. She cried once watching a commercial because she just felt SOOOO emotional, and she even swore at her husband twice. She was doing half marathons into her 8th month because it just felt SO good to run. She gave birth and was back in her size 2’s before she left the hospital. Her baby was perfect and when he pooped, it smelled like fresh strawberries on a warm summer’s day.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh…. such a beautiful story. So full of beauty and wisdom and, what’s the word I’m looking for… bullshit. Yes, bullshit is the word.

Now if you are one of those ladies who have been blessed with an easy pregnancy, God bless you. You are very lucky and most women are probably jealous. Do you need to reiterate to the world how wonderful and supportive your husband is, and how your baby started sleeping through the night at 4 days old? NO!!! And do you know WHY you need to stop doing this? You need to stop doing this because you suck people like ME into getting pregnant again because somehow you make me forget that pregnancy for ME sucks.

Pregnancy for me is this… boobs so sore I want to punch my 3 year old the face when he hugs me too hard, fits of rage because I am remembering an argument I had three weeks ago that I lost, and now I am coming up with all sorts of new ammo, but I can’t go back and re-start the argument because people will think I am f’ing nuts, dizzy spells that would be awesome if I was in high school and doing hits of nitrous oxide, but not so great when I’m trying to draft board resolutions.

Pregnancy for me is falling asleep while people are talking to me… at work. I actually fell asleep while drafting an email. Turns out I can type while I nap. There weren’t any actual WORDS, but the fingers kept moving. I am like a chicken when someone chops off the head apparently.

Pregnancy for me is wanting to yell at someone because her highlights are better than mine and because she complains about her “messy” hair even though people spend all kinds of money for her exact “messy” hair. F U.

Pregnancy for me is eating mashed potatoes for lunch, with a side of vanilla ice cream. When I’m two days pregnant.

So if you couldn’t tell from this post, I am pregnant. I haven’t told my family yet (with the exception of my husband) because I haven’t even had my first doctor’s appointment and this is all still very new and terrifying. I’m posting it here because in all honesty, there are exactly three people who read this blog and they probably know (sup Kari) and I’m hoping it will help me express my rage so I don’t kick my co-workers. My first appointment is on July 25th and we will find out then if everything is okay.

Until next time… unless I’m in prison for finding the person who tricked me into thinking pregnancy was beautiful and amazing and I tie her up like a prisoner at Guantanamo Bay and shove pizza and cupcakes in her face until her ass looks like Rosie O’Donnell’s… or worse, MINE.

Bursitis.... not JUST for athletes

SOOOOOOOO yeah... it has been a while since I've written. You might think it is because I have totally gotten on the ball; going jogging every day, lifting weights, doing 200 crunches, making salads and quinoa casseroles with brussell sprouts, but you would be TOTALLY WRONG. So let's take it back a few weeks...

Tbill's daycare was closed before Labor Day, and I had to take a couple days off. I decided to bring him to work to visit everyone because he hadn't been there since he was a wee baby. I bring him in, everyone "ooooh" and "aaaaaahhhs" over him. He gets super amped up and decides to start running all around. I chase after him. I don't want to sound like a hippo stampede, so I run on my toes, much like a graceful gazelle. Giselle? The deer, not the model. Anyway, as I am flittering about like a butterfly on my toes, I get a sudden sharp pain in my heel, and it hurts. Bad. For over a week. So I finally get into the doctor and I am informed that I have Achilles Tendonitis and Bursitis in my right foot. She asked me if I was a runner and I looked at her with a totally blank stare and said "Seriously? you think THIS runs... like, at all?" Well, apparently Bursitis is usually from being overused. Except in my case, where I'm thinking it was caused by under-use with a sudden unexpected use, if that makes sense. What I'm saying is my body is rejecting exercise. That is the ONLY explanation that makes sense (to me). She told me it can take up to three months to heal, I have to wear these hard plastic inserts in all my shoes and do all these stretches. Basically, it is just annoying. I can still get some exercise in, but to be honest, I haven't done any because I am lazy. When I get done with work, I just want to go home. I have absolutely no motivation to go to the gym after work and even LESS once I get home. This is really something I need to incorporate into my day, but let's face it... it is SOOO much easier to not incorporate it. So, that is something I need to work on. That and not drinking a bottle of wine a night.

Now, here is another issue: my goals of losing weight and my food board on Pinterest are in direct odds with eachother. I know I should be pinning the quinoa salads and 50 Ways to Prepare Talapia, but instead, I pin things like "Slutty Brownies" and "S'more Stuffed Chocolate Chip Cookies". Of course, I'm now sitting at my desk like Homer Simpson drooling at the thought of cookies. And Pizza.  And here is my new brown hair. Okay, bye.

The Good, The Bad and the Pizza

Okay, so when I started writing again, it was because I wanted to keep myself accountable. I figured maybe if I had to show other people what I was going through, I would be more likely to stick with this whole new "lifestyle change" I'm supposed to be doing. But... it is HARD. It is SO FLIPPEN HARD. I read all these weight loss blogs of these incredible women who have changed their lives... and yet, I cannot go one week without pizza. Maybe my issue is that I should have started blogging when I was well on my way. Maybe then it would have been somewhat inspirational! Instead, I feel like I am confessing my sins over and over. 

Soooo... on Thursday, I had a REALLY bad sinus headache. It felt migrainey, but just on one side of my face. None of the medication I took was working, so I did what I do when nothing else is working... I decided to have a cocktail or three. Well, I don't really drink that much anymore, so sometimes I forget how much it can lower my inhibitions, especially when it comes to food. So since I was pretty much drunk town when Ehee got home, he decided to pick up McDonalds for dinner. Well, after I ate my entire dinner, I apparently decided it wasn't enough... so I stole Ehee's french fries, ate half of Trevor's nuggets, and then helped myself to more booze. I felt HORRIBLE about myself the next day. I felt like I was a disgusting human being... when I binge like that I fully hate myself after, yet I continue to do it. For example... today I went to my friend's son's 1st birthday and the nacho bar. I tried to be good... I don't think I was horrible. But, the pizza I just ate for dinner pretty much topped out the evening. Who DOES THAT?? I'll tell you who does that... people on their way to being 678 lbs and fused to their couch. People who have whipped cream running through their veins.

I wish there was some easy fix. I wish that I could just say... okay, I'm DONE with this and actually follow through. I wish when I saw CARBS I didn't go into a shark like frenzy. I wish when I saw a bottle of wine, I didn't go into a piranha type frenzy... you know, like when they see a cow crossing the river, or giant DD boobs floating at Lake Havasu.

So I will end this on a positive note. There have been some good things this week... for example, I got to the gym twice and actually worked out HARD. Hard enough where I felt light headed and shaky afterwards. I also ate pretty well the rest of the week. It's just hard to see the good when I feel so much guilt about the bad. So on that note, I am going to go sit down and read my new In-Style magazine and look at all the amazing fashions that I cannot afford, nor can I fit into them. YET!!! I will get there... eventually.

Setback... and then another setback

Setback #1: I went camping this past weekend with some family and friends and had a GREAT time. The set back being of course, that while camping, I ate camping food. Hot dogs, cheesy eggs with hash browns and apple sausage, beer! I definitely was not as bad as I could have been, but the scale was still THREE lbs heavier this morning than it was last week. I will have to get my butt back into gear to get it off again. Blah. The good news is, Ehee is now on board with this whole "healthier" lifestyle because he wants to lose weight too. That means there will be less temptation around the house from now on!

Setback #2: As you may recall, I have two sons. The 16 year old is known to get into some trouble and has been staying with his dad for the past year and a half to try to get him on the right track. Things have been a lot better between us since the move... that is, until this past weekend. Tmoney didn't go camping with us because I was told he was supposed to work. So when we left on Thursday night, we made sure everything was locked up, the windows were closed and locked and that the sliding glass door was locked and had the bolt screwed in. We waved goodbye to our house and went on our way. Camping ensued.

We returned on Sunday afternoon and everything seemed normal. That is, until I noticed the empty soda can on the shelf next to the arm chair. This raised my suspicions a bit as #1, we don't really drink a lot of soda, and #2, it was ORANGE soda. There is only ONE person in my house who drinks ORANGE soda. The next thing I noticed is that the front door is locked, but not latched up at the top which I KNOW was latched when we left. So, being an ex-stalker as well as just a nosey person, I started thinking... "if I was a teenage boy, and my parents were out of town, what would I do"? So, I decided to check the computer to see if there were any weird sign ins on Facebook. Sure enough, I open it and it is already logged into someone's page. However, it wasn't Tmoney's, it was his friend's. Now, this friend is not someone I want Tmoney hanging around with. He is a known thief (including stealing Tmoney's bike from our house last year), he has a probation officer, he is a known pot dealer AND all his photos on facebook are of him drinking. Since this brainiac left his FB logged in at our house, I decided to go in and start reading his direct messages. Sure enough, I see the invite to a beer pong tournament AT MY HOUSE! Not only was there a beer pong tournament being set up, but apparently there was to be a weed extravaganza. Thankfully the plans never came to fruition because his dad wouldn't let him stay out later than 10 pm (he was supposed to be at his friend's house), but had he extended his curfew, apparently my house would have hosted a really lame teenage party.

I called his father and let him know everything that was going on and then I informed Tmoney that he is no longer welcome at our home when nobody is home (which, of course he is telling people that we disowned him. He is more dramatic than a teenage girl). He lost his chance to go back to Woodward West for the All-Stars week, he lost his cell phone and Internet privileges and I told him I would no longer pay for his online course to get his Learner's Permit.

I get him wanting to come over and even throw a party. Eighties movies were based on parties when parents leave... the thing that REALLY gets me is that he not only had that loser IN my house, but now that loser knows how to break into my house very easily. Needless to say, Ehee is beefing up security and we're looking into ADT. 

So that is my post for the week. I'm back on the wagon and hoping I can lose these stupid 3 lbs, and hoping I can make it through the next week without choke slamming a certain 16 year old. Wish me luck!!

People at work...

So here is a funny tidbit about my life at work. I work directly next to a woman who I would guess is in her late 50's to early 60's. She is known around the office for her blunt honesty and always thinking of the worst case scenarios. For example, my friend's hand was tingling... it wasn't because it was asleep or there was a pinched nerve, this woman insisted that my friend had MS. She's just that type of gal!

So as I previously mentioned, I am a bit on the chunky side and unfortunately, I carry most of my weight in my stomach. So one day, I am sitting there, working hard (or Facebooking, one of those) minding my own business when she says "Jennifer, can I ask you something?" and I replied "sure" assuming it was work related. It wasn't. Below is a recap of our conversation. She will be "C" for Crazy or Co-worker. You decide:

C: Jennifer, can I ask you something?
Me: Sure, what's up?
C: Have you been gaining weight?
Me: Uhhhhh, yes. Thank you for noticing.
C: Are you gaining weight because you are pregnant?
Me: Ummmm, nooooooooo. I'm just fat. But again, thank you for noticing.
C: Are you sure?
Me: Yes, I'm pretty sure. As a matter of fact, I should be starting my period at literally, any moment.
C: But you haven't started yet?
Me: No, but trust me.. it's coming.
C: I think you might be.
Me: Even if I WAS pregnant, I wouldn't be at the stage where I"m showing. Trust me, I'm just fat.

(note: this conversation went on for literally ten minutes at work, in the middle of our office, where we have cubicles, so anyone within 10 ft of us could here this entire conversation)

C: Well I'm just thinking that if you ARE pregnant, it would be fun to celebrate.
Me: Yes, well that would be fun.. except I am NOT pregnant, unless I am pregnant with a burrito which is what I had for lunch. I AM JUST FAT!

She didn't come back into the office for a week, which was just as well, because I couldn't decide if I should just laugh it off, or break her old ass hip. In the end, I decided to laugh it off, but I've decided to make sure to tell her how TIRED she looks come the holidays.

One week down...

So I made it through the first week of being "healthy"... or as healthy as I can be. I will admit, I have had a few cheats here and there, but for the most part, I've been good. It started off last Monday with me making a super yummy pasta with olive oil, garlic, chicken and cherry tomatoes. Tuesday was also pretty good, although not as good as Monday's meal. The real problem was on Wednesday.

On Wednesday I decided to make a top sirloin and cauliflower "mashed potatoes". So I found a recipe off a website that had a ton of great reviews. Everyone talked about how it basically tasted JUST like cheesey mashed potatoes. I was very excited and had high expectations. I will say, they did LOOK just like cheesey mashed potatoes... same consistency and everything, but they didn't TASTE ANYTHING like mashed potatoes!! I sort of choked it down because I was trying to like it. Ehee took one bite and his entire face changed. He ran to the garbage can and spit it out. He asked me what the HELL that was he just put in his mouth. I told him what it was, laughing of course. He was pretty pissed! hahahaha... apparently he thought they were potatoes and was not expecting the flavor!. I asked him if he pretended they were cheesey grits if he would be able to eat them. He replied that they taste like cheesey grits that 85 sailors jacked off into. Now I'm not sure what that would taste like, but I can imagine it is NOT very good. So, for now... I will not be making those again any time soon. I think next time I'll just try to roast them or steam them.

Thursday, we were supposed to have pork tenderloin, but it was way too friggen hot in our house to have the oven on. So instead, I made homemade pizzas which turned out to be the BOMB. I will DEFINITELY make that again! Maybe someday, I'll get out of the late 1990's with my flip phone and actually get a fancy phone where I can upload some of the pictures of the food I make. But whatever, for now... you will just have to dream about my delightful pizzas.

Friday was pretty good foodwise, but then Saturday was AWFUL. I woke up to fresh coffee and a DOZEN DONUTS on the counter. I decided that Saturday could be my cheat day and helped myself to a donut. Then, a chicken burrito with no sourcream. Then, a burger and fruit. Then, a slice of ice cream cake (it was my niece's bday, I couldn't say no!). By yesterday I was back on the wagon and being good so I decided to be brave and weigh myself in this morning. -4 lbs! I was happy, but at the same time, I know it is mostly water because the last time I weighed myself was two days before I was supposed to get my monthly visit. SO... 4 lbs is 4 lbs, I'll be happy and just hope that I can do something similar for next week!

So I'm done rambling for now. Someday I hope to make this coherent so people will actually read and understand what I'm talking about. But for now, it's enough that I know what I'm talking about.

Turns out it is a burrito... and pancakes, sausage, beer, pizza and nachos

Wow. It has really been a long time since I last updated. So long, in fact, that the entire format of this blog has changed and I have no idea what I'm even looking at! I hope this gets posted.

So, what do you do when your cholesterol blood test basically tells you that your blood is made of bacon grease and buttercream? Well... you have to do a "lifestyle change". I would never ever ever EVER post my weight or fat pictures of myself (I have way too much fear that one of my ex-boyfriends would see it and then fall out of love with me, cuz I know they ALL still want me). However... I will post my current stats:

Cholesterol = 388 (yikes!)
Triglyceride = 237 (again, yikes)
LDL = 247 (holy sh*t!)

I will also say that according to my BMI, I am "overweight". Yes, I am chunky, not quite obese, but apparently I have the blood of a person who eats Krispy Kreme and McDonalds Big Macs daily. So, I thought I would start writing about my journey to try and get my numbers down. This will not be your average "weight loss" blog. I hate exercise, I hate vegetables, I like pizza and I am an asshole when people tell me I can't have something. Also, I'm a picky eater and I have never experimented with things like "quinoa" or "brown rice" or lasagnas made of veggies. I plan to be annoyed a lot.

I'm hoping I can stay focused and by writing my blog, stay somewhat accountable. I really don't want to be a 35 year old woman on 50 medications! My 90 year old grandfather is in better shape than me and that is just sad.

In conclusion.. wish me luck! And here is are a couple pictures of my kids because there is no way on EARTH I am going to post any of me!!!! Peace I'm outta here!

Some things I've learned in the past year...

1. Drinking small amounts of motor oil will not kill you... but it will make you poop every hour on the hour for three days straight.

2. Dog poop, even when rolled around in dirt, is never a pleasant surprise when it is handed to you in the kitchen. Probably not anywhere else either.

3. It doesn't matter how old you are... if you wear sandals without socks, you are gonna get stanky feet.

4. Sometimes when my husband is snoring, I seriously consider smothering him with a pillow. Not til he's dead or anything, just until he is quiet.

5. The little paranoid scaredy cat little boy I used to know, is becoming a not so scaredy cat young man. Although he is as paranoid as ever!!

6. It doesn't matter how old or or chubby or wrinkley I get, when I drink enough... I think I'm Minka Kelly or Mila Kunis or whoever else you think is hot stuff.

7. I totally have hoarding tendancies. There is a good chance that in 30 years you will see me on the A&E show "Hoarders". Hopefully I'm not pooping in bags and saving them in the kitchen.

8. When I play with my make-up, I'm totally happy in my own world like I was when I was seven and I was making my slutty Barbie do it with my G.I. Joe. I've always had a thing for a man in uniform.

9. I cannot get naked in a gym until I am SAFELY in the shower stall. I think this is because I grew up with brothers and not sisters. Also, people who freely walk around with their FULL NUDE BODIES scare me and I think their vaginas are trying to get me.

10. Seeing my boys happy, makes me happy... even when I'm really not happy.

Long time coming...

It has been a LONG time since I last blogged. I would like to say it is because life has been boring and slow and easy and just not exciting, but in reality it has been this: pneumonia, three sinus infections, two bouts of pink eye and asthma for Tbill, Tmoney started getting into trouble and decided that he would like to try living with his idiotic father for a while, and I have been beyond busy at work and with dealing with my boys, bridal showers, baby showers, weddings and planning more showers and bachelorettes in the next few weeks. Also in there was a crazy 600 calorie per day diet which not only helped me lose 20 lbs, but a LOT of money and all of my energy. I'm now off the crazy diet and while I gained 10 lbs back, it showed me I can lose the weight if I just try. So here's to trying!!

These days Tbill is a wild man. He loves to climb up and jump off our furniture, he is a little water dog and already puts his face right into the water. He also tries to ride our dogs like they are horses and he has recently entered a hitting phase. He has totally developed a sense of humor and loves to try to make us laugh making silly faces or playing with his tongue. He is a little motor mouth and talks ALL the time. I can understand him even if no one else can. Well, mostly. He is also a little love bug and gives EVERYONE he knows big hugs.

Now that Tmoney is living with his dad, we are all getting along much better. We definitely miss him, and his brother misses him, but when he's home to visit, the tension that was once there is gone. It's nice to just be able to enjoy him instead of being the constant nagging harpie making his life miserable =) I can't believe he is going to be a sophmore come this fall!

I guess that's about it for now. Hopefully someday I'll have more time, or something fun to share, but for NOW... you get what you get and don't have a fit =)

Photos of my sweet boy

A whole mess of new problems...

Wow, I haven't updated in a LOOOONG time. I'm sure there is a ton to write about, but since there is TOO much, I'll just write about the recent activities of our lives. Okay, specifically my life.

So as many of you know, one my my BFFs lives in Savannah, GA and her husband is currently deployed. Being the super awesome BFF that I am, I wanted to go visit her while he was gone so I could keep her company. I booked my flight over a month ago and was SO excited to go see her... until about two weeks before I was supposed to leave. Around that time, Tbill started waking up in the middle of the night EVERY night. For hours. Being the anxiety ridden nut job that I am, I decided this was because I was going to die and his baby intuition was telling him to spend as much time with me as he could, because I'd be dead in 14 days. So the lack of sleep combined with an already crazy person started causing me to have mini panic attacks. Also, since I was facing certain death, I wasn't able to fall asleep at night. So basically, I'd fall asleep between 11pm -12am, the baby would wake up between 1am - 2am and would be up for a good two hours. It was not a happy time in my home.

I went to the doctor for an unrelated issue and she noticed my legs shaking uncontrollably while I sat on her table. She asked me what was going on and that was when I broke down crying and telling her that I was going to DIE in a matter of days. So she asked me if I have ever had problems with anxiety in the past and I told her my mental health history, which includes a history of panic attacks and a prescription for Klonopin. So, thankfully, she refilled my prescription for my Klonopin so I would have it for the plane ride. Of course, then came the NEW anxiety of "what if I take my pills and I'm too mellow to jump out of the plane in case of an emergency landing on a farm in Alabama and I burn up and am the only fatality?" My doctor assured me that the anxiety I was feeling was totally normal and that many moms of young children have panic attacks when they think of dying and leaving their babies without their moms. So, I guess I felt somewhat better knowing I am not the only crazy person.

As you can tell from this blog, I DID survive the plane ride to and from Georgia and have a fun weekend with my friend. We only got into a minimal amount of trouble, just like the old days. Of course, when I got home, Ehee brought the kids to pick me up from the airport and Tbill refused to even look at me for 20 minutes. Apparently he was teach me a lesson to never leave him AGAIN!!

So it is now 3/30 and I started writing this on 3/14. That said, I'm over this post. I'm ending it here and will update again shortly.

UGH

I am a person that is very set in her ways. I have the SAME routine every single day. I drop off T-money, I drop off T-bill, I drive the same route to work every day and I park in the same parking spot every day. I come in, put my stuff down, turn on my computer and then head downstairs to the cafeteria so I can get some coffee and usually something to eat. Every day, I make my coffee the SAME way. It's easy, there are only two types of coffee so I don't ever change flavors or the way I make it. Until yesterday.

On Thursday morning, I followed my same routine. I decided to have an egg sandwich for breakfast which took longer than usual to order because one of the chefs was out sick. I stood in line with my co-worker, chatting about the day ahead and how stressful it has been lately. We started complaining about how long it was taking, but oh well, it takes a good 15 minutes for my computer to load, so I didn't care that much. I finally ordered my food and went to go get my lemon water and my coffee. My special coffee. The only kind I drink at work.

I went over to grab my disposable cup and I noticed they had changed them. They no longer had Peet's coffee cups. Odd, but I just figured they must be out and would have more next week. I grab my cup and head over to the coffee station. . MY COFFEE WAS GONE!!!!!

Instead of my ONE giant coffee machine (yes it is a MACHINE, not a pot) there were 10bright red coffee containers that read "Seattle's Best". There was Dark Roast, French Roast, Hazel Nut, Decaf, Cinnabun, Vanilla Bean, Italian Roast... WTF IS GOING ON!?!?!?! I cannot choose between all those different flavored coffees before I've HAD MY CUP OF COFFEE!!! The first one I tried was bitter and dark and awful, much like my soul after realizing they had gotten rid of our Peet's. The next one I tried was just as awful, so I dumped that cup too. Finally, I decided to try the vanilla, which is the ONLY drinkable coffee from my work I can now consume. Although, it gives me a stomach ache once I'm done with it.

But seriously folks, who does that? Who, with NO WARNING, in the MIDDLE of the week, takes away the coffee that the entire company has been drinking for the past five years, and replaces it with something that tastes AWFUL??? Again, WITH NO WARNING!!!! Also, I think the name should be changed to Seattle's WORST Coffee, because I just hate it. Not everything has to make your insides feel like they are being dissolved. Sometimes you can have a MILD flavored coffee!!

So that is my rant for the week. I have NOTHING baby to post because he is currently boring. Hope you have a good weekend!

Thankful

So I know that most of the time in my blog, I try to be funny or sarcastic. This is because I don't deal well with most emotions. I generally get very uncomfortable when people around me cry, or look like they are about to cry. I roll my eyes when people tell me how precious something is, even their children. I know!! I'm like the Grinch, but not specifically to Christmas. What people do NOT really know or understand is that this is a really a defense mechanism because I am way OVERLY sensitive. When I am alone in the car and I hear a song that touches me, I cry. Yes, I actually cry. I cry at movies, at TV, and even books. However, when people around me do it, I get super uncomfortable and I run for my life. That is why I try to keep this blog light and fluffy and I never really talk about my feelings.

That said, this entry is going to talk about my feelings. I'm going to try to anyway.

Today I read one of the most heart breaking blogs I could read. It contained two very sensitive subjects to me which would be illness and children. It made me really start thinking about what is important in my life. I'm so quick to complain about my baby taking crack and staying up all night, or my teenager driving me NUTS with his constant attitude. But in all honesty, I am SO, SO greatful that I have two healthy children who are able to drive me crazy. Sometimes I get so caught up in "me" or the meaningless drama that goes on in my life, that I forget to put things in prospective. Why do I obsess over the wrinkles starting to creep in around my eyes, when I should be grateful that I have lived long enough to earn those wrinkles? Why do I get embarassed about my 1 year old having stranger anxiety, when I should be glad that he is healthy enough to be around strangers? It all seems pretty trivial in the grand scheme of life.

Let me state now that I love both my boys with all my heart. I am thankful every day that they are healthy and that I have never had to go through any major trauma with either of them. I pray every day that I will never have to go through any major trauma with them because I don't know if I am strong enough to take it. I am grateful for every day I spend with them and I pray that I have years and years with them, and someday their children. They are my heart, and when they hurt, my heart hurts. If I could take every ounce of pain they have known, or will ever know, I would because I honestly believe it would hurt me more to watch them bear it.

With that said, I don't say this much, but I will pray for Brandi and Chris. This is their blog: brandiandchris.blogspot.com
Hopefully, if you have a chance you'll read it and their heart breaking story. The good news is there is hope and even if you don't pray, maybe you can send good thoughts and vibes their way.

Ugh

So this WAS going to be a blog about why I am not going to have a First birthday party for little Tbill. However, after last night, I now have something NEW to write about. Sooooo, here it goes. (Don't get excited, it's NOT that interesting)I will explain my non-party decision on a later date. Or not. Whatever.

Apparently, my youngest son, the apple of my eye, is a drug addict. Him keeping a crack pipe in his crib is the ONLY explanation for what he did last night.

It was 10 pm, I was at that stage or pre-sleep RIGHT where my eyes started getting heavy and I was taking those 20 second blinks. All of the sudden, I hear little T coughing up a storm (which was obviously him inhaling the CRACK from his pipe) and then start crying. It was one of those cries where I knew he would not just fall back asleep, but needed his mama. So I go in the room where he is just sobbing, which just about breaks my heart, so I lift him up. He has snot pouring out of his nose, all over his cheeks and he felt a bit warm. So I take him to the kitchen where I only have the light over the stove on so I can see what I'm doing. I clean him up (while his brother holds him) and give him a bit of baby Advil. It's a little past 10 pm so Tmoney heads to bed and I go with with Tbill in the rocking chair.

He is sitting on my lap, sucking his thumb and nuzzling my shirt and I'm thinking he's falling back asleep, when all of the sudden he gets a CRAZED look in his eyes. He sits straight up, wiggles himself out of my lap and it is PARTY TIME! I put him back in my lap to try to FORCE him to relax so he'd go back to sleep, but he wasn't having it. He started SCREECHING, and I didn't want everyone in the house to get up to see what was wrong, so I let him get back on the floor to play.

Well, he didn't really feel like playing. He felt like destroying the house. The first thing he did was grab an old magazine that was on the ottoman and start tearing out the pages. He then crawled into the kitchen and started taking out all of the canned food and mixing bowls. Next he went after the garbage cans, so I had to put the baby gates up and lock him in the family room. He pulled all of his toys out of his toy bin and scattered them all over the floor. Randomly throughout the night I would again try to force him to relax and rock him, but he'd only sit there for a few minutes humoring me, before heading back down the hall and banging on the doors.

Finally around 1 am, it seemed like he started to get tired. He sat in my lap and I rocked him until he fell asleep. I got up to go put him in his crib and he woke up again and started screaming AGAIN. So, being exhausted, I decided I would cheat and bring him to bed with me, thinking that would maybe help him fall asleep. It didn't. He couldn't get comfortable in my bed and soon, was sitting on his knees in the middle of my bed SCREECHING like a GD hawk! Ehee woke up and asked what was going on, and I told him "I don't know, he's been acting like a maniac for the past three hours!" So Ehee then tried rubbing his head and rubbing his back and again, Tbill got up and started spitting at us, jumping on us, and kept on laughing and doing his awful hawk screech. Of course, now I am delirious and Ehee and I just start laughing. Like seriously, at this point what else could we do? Ehee keeps asking me what I gave him and I'm like... ADVIL!!! I swear he has had it before and it has never given him an adverse reaction. It must have been the crack.

So at about 1:30 am, Ehee gets up with Tbill and takes him out of the bedroom. I can now hear the screeching coming from the front room and I hear Ehee chuckling and talking to him, but finally around 2 am I was able to finally fall asleep. I asked Ehee before he left for work at 6 am what time Tbill FINALLY crashed and he said at about 2:30 am. I asked him what he did to put him to sleep and he said he just let him destroy the family room. Uhhhh, I thought he had pretty much already done that. Nope!

When I went out there to look, he had taken ALL of the clothes from the laundry basket and scattered them all over the room, he had ripped the magazine pages into little tiny pieces and that was all over the room. There were cheerios everywhere, two bottles on the railing, his shoes, the pillows off the couch, dog toys. It looked like a tiny little tornado had gone through the house. Had I had more than 3 1/2 hours of sleep, I would have thought to take a picture so I could post it. BUT, I didn't. So now I'm at work, completely exhausted, totally useless and just counting down the minutes until I can drive home. I will then find and remove the crack pipe, give the kid a shot of brandy and send him off to LaLa Land so I can hopefully get some sleep.

Gobble Gobble!

Well, I have absolutely NOTHING to say. It is the day before Thanksgiving and I am at work with about twelve other people (in the entire building), and T-money. He, of course, cannot be left home alone so I drug him in with me this morning. I'm praying to the Lord above that the head of legal feels guilty about his vacation, and takes time out to send everyone home early. Here's hoping!

T-bill is getting bigger and bigger every day. It is so funny to watch him learn new things. I swear to you, he knows how to play catch with a ball. He is a physical anomaly and way advanced for his age and NOTHING you can say will make me change my mind. Scientists will do experiments on him someday because of his supreme athletic ability. Okay, MAYBE I sound like a psycho mom, but it's not like I'm putting him in pageants. Yet.

He has learned how to clap, but not very well. He basically slaps the bottom of one hand to the top of his other hand, but hey, we all gotta start somewhere! Also, he is getting braver with his steps, but usually as soon as he takes one tentative step, he falls flat on his face and then is done trying for a while. He needs a rest. You may think, hey, that doesn't sound like a child who is a supreme physical specimen of a baby. Well, it is. I'm pretty sure he CAN walk AND clap, he just refuses to do it in front of others so the media doesn't catch wind of it. He knows it will just be a crazy media/paparazzi frenzy from now on and he, of course, is too smart for that.

So otherwise, everything is about the same. The teenager walks the thin line of life and death every day, with every eye roll and his tone of voice. Ehee is a working machine, although he does take time to ride out on his early mid-life crisis machine when he gets the chance. The only thing I do these days is baby related, so I'm REALLY no fun. Um.. and I guess that is all for today.

I hope all five of you that actually READ this blog have a wonderful Thanksgiving, with or without your families. XOXO

Happy Halloween!!! (yeah I know its November)

Poo Chronicles Part II

How sad is it that I now have two blogs about POO? This one may be slightly worse than the first story. No, nobody got poo'd on, BUT... it still might be worse. So yesterday morning was very busy. I have been exhausted because I don't think my thyroid medication is at the right dose, plus we just had a very busy weekend with a wedding that both Ehee and I were in. The baby got up early and Ehee took him out of his crib by 6 am. Generally, I leave him in there, awake or not, until 6:30 am so I can finish getting myself ready before I get him ready. Yesterday this did not happen; I had to worry about what he was doing while trying to get myself ready. It was hectic to say the least. We moved the high chair into the bedroom so he could be contained while I did my makeup.

So at about 6:45 am (please note I am now running late) I get the pig out of his chair and put him on the bed to get him ready. When I go to change his diaper, he has three little rabbit turds which I was not expecting. I put the diaper to the side, wipe his butt, put some cream on it because it was a bit red, took another clean wipe and wiped his booger nose, put them all together in the diaper, folded it up and took it to the garbage can. I fed him, put his clothes on and we left the house at 7:20 am. LATE.

Cut to later that evening when Ehee is getting ready for bed. I am sitting in the front room with T-money, watching GLEE when I hear profanity coming from my bedroom. "GODDAMNIT! ARE YOU F'ING KIDDING ME?" Uh-oh. I knew I was in trouble for something. Out stomps Ehee MAD, holding out his hand. In his hand, one of the three rabbit turds that had rolled out of the diaper and onto the comforter. Apparently in my rush, I totally missed it and it fell out on HIS side of the bed.

Now I know this is wrong, but I couldn't help but start laughing. And then T-money started laughing. This did not please my already angry husband. "THERE IS POO IN MY BED". Yes, yes there is. I laughed harder. He stomped away and went to bed and hasn't spoken to me since. Now, I know that I was wrong to laugh, and I know that I would be pretty upset had I found poo in my bed, but in the scheme of life, if the worst thing that happens to you is you find a rabbit turd ball on your comforter, I think you have things pretty good.

Just a short update on T-bill. He is now nine and a half months old. He can stand and walk on his knees, he can walk using a little walker device, he can wave and give high five. He is also eating anything you put in front of him and he still has the sweetest little personality. He has gotten to the phase where he will throw a tantrum when I leave his sight, but for the most part, he is a happy little boy. I can't wait for Halloween and his costume! I will update with his pictures then. I hope everyone has a great week and that none of you find poop in your sheets =)