I don't want to deal with THAT drama

Sorry this turned into a monster in law vent.. 

We recently celebrated our daughter, Morgan's, 11th birthday.  As usual Daddy had to work on the actual day so she picked to celebrate the Saturday after her birthday. (only one day later) 

I asked her what she would like for her birthday present from us this year and response gave me a tearful moment. (not because I wasn't picked)  Instead of choosing a TV for her bedroom she picked to have a date with dad.  I almost cried because as a child given the choice of a TV in my room or any other present I would have picked a TV long before a date with dad.  Sorry Dad, I love you but it was a TV I wouldn't have to share.

She chose to go jump at Sky Zone just her and daddy.  they had a lot of fun and she didn't want her time alone with Dad to end.  Morgan ended up going to the store with him to get the groceries for the birthday dinner as well.  By the end of the day all Morgan could talk about was how amazing her birthday was.  Then the phone rang...

It was my Monster in Law.  Morgan was sitting in front of the phone and read the caller ID.  She instantly became a teenager before my eyes.  I watched as she rolled her eyes and said "Oh no, we better answer that or someone is gonna have to hear about it."  After the disrespectful way she had treated me the last time I saw her I would rather sit bare-assed in hot coals that have to listen to her fakeness.   I told Morgan answer it then.  She instantly says "No way, I don't want to deal with that drama and ruin my birthday!"

What am I supposed to force my child to speak to a person that at every chance makes them feel bad?  Just because she had her 90+ year old mother drop a bag of gifts (for all the kids birthdays.. even though Nadia's is not for a few months and two other kids' were a few months past)  I'm supposed to force them to talk to her?  What kind of lesson does this teach my kids?  That if someone buys them something they have to do things they wouldn't want to?  It's not that they wont be writing a thank you letter. (even though most the gifts were broken or not age appropriate)   I will not force my kids to be around someone that they do not want to be around. 

We have not spoken to my MIL in months. The last time she did see us she was very rude to me as she sat there in my house...  As a SAHM she was not only disrespecting me in my home but my place of work.  She sat there slinging little nasty digs at me with a self satisfied look on her face. (in front of my children)  I finally had enough an made sure she knew it.  She had the nerve to turn to my husband and say" You are going to let her speak to me this way?"  Yeah, he is.. he had enough of her drama and finally let her have it.  As she stormed out of the house she had one final comment, "What happened to my son?"  I'll tell you what happened... He's sick of being bullied by his mother and watching his family be twisted in her evil plans.. He's 33 years old with his own family and life and doesn't need an emotionally and verbally abusive mother in his life.

I could go on for hours about my psychotic Monster In Law.  Like the time we had a family counselor tell us that in all his years of doing this he has never said these words... "She is crazy.. get as far away from her as possible for a chance at a normal healthy life."  Or all the times we told her we were going to have one of her grandchildren the first words out of her mouth were about abortion... Enough about her nastiness.. I've had enough of her poisoning special moments in life.  (when I say I.. I mean we as a family)

 After not attempting any type of relationship in almost 6 months.  Should I have forced my child to deal with her and the guilt trips that come with dealing with her on their special day no less?  They have more connection with long distance relatives and with none of the bad feelings after contact. What would you do in this situation?  We chose to ignore the issue and not let it ruin our fantastic weekend. (even with her calling/harassing 6+ times)  FYI if someone doesn't answer the first time or doesn't return your call when you finally decide to leave a message, They don't want to speak with you.  Just do everyone a favor and GO AWAY!

No sick days and no naps!

Motherhood is one of the most rewarding endeavours of my life, but the most challenging too.


As a chef I've done 26+ hours on my feet in various banquets and thought that was difficult.  That still does not compare to the complete exhaustion felt during a feeding frenzy/breastfeeding marathon.  Or caring for a sick child who stays up all night only to wake early and cranky the next morning.


The lack of sleep is something you can never prepare yourself for.  Even now that my youngest is 1 year old he still does not sleep through the night.  Small children are so adept at the use of sleep deprivation that they must be trained by the CIA or maybe it is the CIA that took their training from a small child... 


It's been months since I have gotten more than 4 hours of sleep at night.  I am reaching the point where my body and mind are beyond exhaustion.  I cannot sit in a comfortable chair (any solid surface) for too long or find myself nodding off, only to startle awake in horror at the possibility of what my children could have done in the minutes I dared to allow my exhaustion to take over.


When morning sickness strikes, as I curl around the porcelain throne trying to keep my toes from coming up I don't get a break.  As a mom I get children at the door asking what's for lunch or shoving random things under the door. If am am lucky enough to have been able to lock the door before retching that is.  When I do not get the door locked I get two small children either making gagging noises behind my back as they tell me I am gross or get to experience the joy of fighting little hands away from playing in the toilet as I continue to dry heave.  To add insult to injury they sometimes just stand there. Their little fingers pointing at me as they laugh at the gross noises and faces I make as I expel what was the only meal I was naive enough to think I would be able to keep down.


With that wonderful puking episode that hit both my youngest kids now passed on to the oldest, I am praying these outbreak monkeys of mine don't get me sick.  I am the last person in this house that can be sick.  I get no sick days.  There is no one that will step in and do everything that needs to be done if I am too sick to move.  Sure the family wont starve and I'm mostly sure the house wont burn down.  I can guarantee that if I don't do it then it wont get done.  Laundry would be left to sit in the washing machine molding away because I didn't tell someone to do something about it.  The feral animals that I call my family would eat from every random container they could find rather than run the dishwasher.


Yes, I know how lucky I am to be a stay at home mom.  I get to spend time with my children.  Just know that all that time is not all kisses and unicorns.  I get never taking a moment off from being mom.  Being always on shift.   When someone calls out I have to answer the call. If left to dad (sorry hun I love you but this is true) shit just doesn't get handled unless distinct directions are left.  There are days I would happily switch lives with my spouse. To leave the house for up to 12 hours a day and not have to be the one to do homework, diapers, and constant death watch.  (is it just my kids or do all kids try to find new and dumber ways to attempt to kill or maim themselves?)

Identity thieves beware

I am tired of people that claim identity theft is a victimless crime.  It's not.. I recently found out I have become one of millions of victims.  In a society where bad credit can have you overlooked for a job or denied your dream home it is very much a crime with too many victims.  The thieves may not have entered my home and stolen my treasured personal possessions but they stole something much worse.  My identity.  I only get one in my life.  I am left feeling very much a victim.  Used by some faceless person for the sole purpose of destroying my good credit so they can buy something they couldn't afford in the first place. 

By using my credit to further their lives they leave me unable to do things to further mine.  Denied a loan to get a car.  Denied a home loan. Denied a credit card for emergencies.  Denied.. Denied.. Denied.  All due to this "victimless" crime.  It makes me angry to be a victim of this crime because I am not careless with my information.  I shred documents.  Those shredded documents don't even make their way into the trash. (I use them to pack our breakables when we move)  I do not give out my information on a whim.

I was recently contacted by a computer building company in Nebraska asking me if I had recently ordered a laptop with my credit card. 

Two huge problems with this. 
1. I just purchased a new laptop in store not even 6 months ago with cash.
2. I do not have any credit cards. (I was actually denied after applying for one just last year)

I have just started on this demoralizing journey to discover the depth of this thieves damage and repair it.  With each step I have to take I imagine worse and worse punishments befitting their crimes.  Every minute of my day wasted dealing with this angers me even more.. the imagined punishments grow exponentially with my anger. 

The thieves buried up their necks near monstrous ant hills.  6 million paper cuts to be administered by demonic IRS agents.  For every year I have had to go without or was made to pay higher rates for services due to their dishonesty.. a shot with an air rifle at close range to the genitals and any other dangling limb.  Or maybe bird shot.  Even Dick Chaney got away with that "accident". 

Eww, Not on my watch!?!

Just a warning.. if you have a weak stomach.. turn back now.  

Don't say I didn't warn you....

Last night out of the blue Morgan comes running down the stairs screaming that Nadia just threw up.  Instantly I cringe in horror thinking of the wall to wall carpeting covering every inch of the upstairs floors, even the bathrooms.. ::cry:: 
I ascend the stairs trying to hurry but the visions of past puking experiences slowing my steps.  My palms start sweating.  I start whispering fervent prayers.. "Please god not on the carpet."  I'd be happy with barfing in a full toy box at the moment.  I timidly ask Morgan where?  ::cringing in wait of her answer:: She points to Nadia's bedroom as her face starts to turn a sickly green.  I walk into the room and there she is sitting in the middle of her blankets and pillows with a pool of vomit at her feet.  Thankfully none got on the carpet.  Now I have a puke dripping child and vomit covered bed stuff to deal with. 

I rush her to the bathtub hoping that if her head starts spinning and she spews split pea soup it will be somewhat contained.  As I step back into the room my stomach instantly thrusts upward and I start dry heaving.. Thank you very much pregnancy induced nausea.. (I swear a mouse fart makes me gag now)  Luckily for my my older daughters see this and take pity on me and agree to get the blankets to the wash.  I am so grateful for my older girls when they choose not to be evil tween demons.

After getting her washed and settled back into a clean bed.  I give her a cup of ginger ale and some saltines. (thank you pregnancy nausea or I would not have these stocked in my cupboards)  The house settles for the night and I think my horror is over.  Oh how naive can I be?

I hear my son cry out once but fall back asleep.  (he does this often.)  My husband comes home and after spending some time together my exhaustion catches up to me and I slowly head up to bed.  (I hate you stairs at this point of the day)  As I take each step this horrible smell gets stronger and stronger.  Until I am at the doorway to Maxx's bedroom.  I look into his crib with revulsion.  There lays my son with vomit covering his entire head and body.  His sheets and blankets are covered.  I run out of the room gagging and cry out for my husband's help.  He thankfully brings the Scentsy Room spray and quickly douses the room to remove the revolting smell.  (I love you room spray, for not covering the scent but removing it!)

I give him the choice.. the bed or the kid.  He wisely chose the non-moving one.  It took me 4 scrub downs to get all the vomit chunks from his hair and I still had to climb into the shower with him to get him fully rinsed off and cleaned.

I walk back into his bedroom to find his bed stripped.  Damn you, slacker!! Job not done... After wrestling a now angry Maxx into some clean pj's I look at the bed and find vomit still covering the rails.  ::tempted to start cursing loudly::  Instead I call him back upstairs.  (just a tip.. now is not the time to huff or roll your eyes or even mention how tired you are)  I wipe down the bed and make Dan remake it.   (I didn't realize it needed to be said)    I lay Maxx down again praying this is the last puke episode of the night.  As soon as his "part" is done my husband abandons me again for the glow of the boob tube. 

No sooner do I step through my bedroom door but I hear Maxx call out "Ma!" and listen in horror as it ends in gagging.  Not again!!  I rush in and grab a blanket in a vain hope of saving this new set of sheets.  I lift him up and rush him through the house to the nearest bathroom.    I managed to get him to a toilet where he vomits again.   Except now he wants to splash in the toilet between heaves.  So not only am I wrestling him over the toilet but his hands away from the nasty water.  I call for help again but the draw of the boob tube has sucked my normally helpful spouse into a mindless oblivion.

I get Maxx cleaned up yet again and change the sheets myself.  (easier to do it myself so I don't attempt bodily harm against my spouse at this point)  I go to lay him down again and instantly he starts gagging.  So I haul him downstairs and sit with a towel wrapped around my upper body. I refuse to carelessly allow myself to be vomited on bare skin by another child.  I learned that lesson with my oldest.  ::shudder::

After an hour of cuddling a dry heaving angry bundle, he abandons me and finally curls up next to daddy.  Once Maxx falls asleep I angrily tell my husband I am going to bed.. you handle him now.. I am off the clock .. on strike whatever it takes.  He gets pissed and tells me "but I was ready for bed."  Angry curse words are now at the tip of my tongue. I think back on the past month of him sleeping undisturbed for 7-10 hours straight a night as I in comparison have not gotten 4 hours sleep without being woken by a child or snoring bed mate.  I give him a non-verbal sign of how much I care about his "tiredness" and drag myself to bed.

I may be a mom of 4 kids (going on 5) but I can't handle puke.  Just the thought of it makes my stomach turn.  Being pregnant doesn't make it any easier.  Can you handle vomiting episodes?  After dealing with my oldest and her creepy colored, when did we eat that chunks pukes.. I just can't do it anymore.

Yes, I do know that it is not good to keep a tally of who did what in marriage, but when you are already pregnant and sleep is a commodity. Lack of sleep can push you to be the stereo typical angry pregnant woman.  Even quicker if your partner dares to complain about their tiredness after they get almost double the sleep you do every night.

I've got an Addiction

I'm actually going to admit it. I have an addiction.  It's overwhelming me to the point that it's all I think about throughout most my day.  I've been told it's unhealthy but that doesn't change anything.  I just can't live without it.

What are you wondering is my horrible addiction to?

I am addicted to my husband.  I know kinda corny huh?  After 15 years of being together and almost 13 years of marriage I still can't wait to be around him.  I used to think I had it really bad when we were dating and I would pine just to hear him on the phone.  It's so much worse now that I actually get to have him in my day to day life. My day is spent in countdown until he gets home from work.

Don't get me wrong there are times when he drives me nuttier than squirrel poo.  The days I just want a shower alone, but I'm there it just feels so empty.  I feel guilty taking a nap before he leaves for work because I know just how much I will miss him when he does leave.

I've been told my my Monster in Law that this is unhealthy.  ::rolls eyes:: That we should not be each other's best friend.  That we need interests that don't include each other.  (yeah.. relationship advice from a twice divorcee)  ::rolls eyes::  We do have interests that do not include each other.  He watches some of his favorite shows that make me want to stab myself in the eye with a spork.  I read romance novels that he refers to as "your dirty books".  Is that not enough?

Over the years, (eons in today's society of marriage lifespans) we have learned to communicate our needs to each other.  "I need a nap or I may just run away and join the circus." Ok, so that one is only a recent addition since our 1 yr old only power naps and I am such a light sleeper that a mouse fart two houses down would wake me.  Just being able to say you need a hug is powerful.  The power of touch is amazing.

You can have your caffeine and tobacco addictions... I'm going to stick to my Danny addiction.

Boys VS Girls

When I found out in my fourth pregnancy that I was having our first son I never thought there would be so many daily differences.

Sure I have to duck when changing a diaper or be able to beat the times of a Nascar pit team in changes.  There is the obvious differences in the plumbing.  My girls were never as interested in their nether regions as early as my son has been.  It's a nonstop wrestle to keep him from yanking his jewels off.  His most recent interest in showing them to everyone or just touching them.  He has already become an expert at arranging his clothing and diaper so that he can man-handle himself. I am missing when he was just obsessed with his belly button. (he would play with it so much that he actually left it glowing red)

The biggest difference is in day to day playtime.  Today I was standing at the sink washing vegetables when my son started his usual shouting to hear himself being loud. (boys are louder.. girls are just really high pitched)  I turn around and jump at him with a loud RAWR!  I thought it would have startled him at least a little. (I know.. mean mommy)  Instead of running away to peek at me from behind something like his sisters have in the past, he runs at me full charge with a little battle cry.  I was so startled by his reaction I didn't prepare myself for his onslaught.   He almost manages to knock me to the ground.  (If I hadn't been standing close to the sink it would have been Monster Maxx 1 Mommy 0)  He then laughs a huge belly laugh while pointing at the stunned look on my face.

There are also many things that are all to similar.  Maxx loves to break into dance at any music just like his sisters.  Their favorite song to dance to is actually the intro music to Strawberry Shortcake. Nadia requests me to play it again and again just to dance with Maxx.

What are some of the differences between your sons and daughters has caught you off guard the most?  

Can't I get a Retake?

My new ID finally arrived in the mail today..  that's right in the mail. It seems they don't trust our DMV employees to actually hand us a card when we walk out anymore.  Not without merit it seems, only recently one of our local DMV workers was busted while selling Id's for $1700-$3000 to illegal immigrants.

I wonder what changes they are going to make now.  Already I was forced to walk around with a card that will not be accepted by anyone as proper identification (due to the hole punch they put into it when I went to renew it)  And a worthless piece of paper stating I am getting a new card in the mail (but does not count as identification.)  For the past two weeks I guess I have qualified as a non-human. I have just been a figment of my imagination.

Upon receiving my long awaited ID... (Yes, I said long awaited.. I'm impatient.. less than 10 minutes at the DMV and still had to wait two weeks to get the card.  I'd rather go back to waiting at the DMV for hours and walk out with my proof of identification.) One peek at the card and I shrieked in horror.  Am I really going to have to walk around showing this to people for the next 4 years?
Let me just say.. they should have at least warned me I looked like the walking dead on camera.  I could have sworn I looked better when I walked into the DMV. I honestly think it was just being at the DMV that sucked the life out of me.

Mother's Day the Aftermath

Yesterday I had the most relaxing and enjoyable Mother's Day in all the 12+ years of being a mommy.  I did not receive gold and jewels, because they would mean so little to me.  Instead I got a much needed day off from being mommy.

Instead of waking with Monster Maxx at 6am he actually slept until 8 am.  I would have slept in later like was my original plan, but being pregnant my bladder capacity is sad joke.   I woke before anyone else and snuck some quiet time catching up on emails and reading some of my favorite blogs.

For breakfast I didn't get the fantasy breakfast in bed.  Mostly my own fault since I am the early riser in the house.  Instead of lounging in bed trying to ignore the crumbs settling around me as I ate my breakfast that was thoroughly enjoyed because it was not something I had to cook myself for a change. My missed breakfast in bed reminded me of all the years I brought my parents breakfast in bed on these special days.

I spent the remainder of the day guiltily ignoring any and all standard mommy duties.  Watched movies from the comfort of my bed (yup a whole movie ALL the way through!), being brought ice cream and grilled cheese sandwiches and reading an entire book (my first in months).  My mother's day gift from my family was the gift of laziness.  I didn't change a single diaper, wash a  dish, or referee a single argument.   It was glorious!

Even with yesterday being the best mother's day to date.. The aftermath of that day spent lounging is beyond imaginable.  There was clothing scattered from bedrooms, down the stairs and into the couch cushions.  Toys were everywhere but in the actual toy bins and boxes. The remote for our DVR is no where to be found.  I still have not gotten up the nerve to check under the couches for the mess that awaits me there.  I think that was a piece of broccoli stuck to the TV screen.

I think for next year I will ask for a day off and no undeclared disaster zone left for me to clean on the day after mother's day.  Who am I kidding though?  This time next year we will have baby #5 in the house tearing things up as well. Two kids will be in diapers, a five year old that changes outfits more than any diva in concert and two teenage girls with hormones on full blast.  I will be glad to get a bath undisturbed and alone.

I hope all your mother's day were amazing, no matter if you are mother's of birth, adoption, fostering, step- moms or single dads who have to be both roles.