But Where Have We Gone

I don't even know where to start. So much has happened this year and not all of it for the best. I am not typically one who blames a whole year to be crappy but damn, 2013 is kicking our butts. Even being the eternal optimist that I am has wavered more than once this year.

My sister moved to another state. I miss her to the point of hurting because we spent so much of our days together. It feels so odd not seeing her so often or even talking to her. I know it was best for her family but oh man, do I miss her. I can't help but to feel it is a bit of a karmatic ass-kicking. My OSD moved at the beginning of the year and I couldn't help but breathe a sign of relief. I know it is best for her family and where she truly feels at home and yes, I get a certain amount of peace knowing she isn't here. Call me petty, call me cruel but I really thought I deserved some calm after almost 6 years of difficulties. We were/are getting along with his ex and the lines of communication have been opened wider than they had since I moved in with him in 2006, but I feel like I sacrificed my sister for it.

I have worked more than twice the amount of overtime this year than I did last. Yeah, the extra money is nice but I miss my kids. I hate coming home late just in time to put them to bed. I miss picking them up from school and hearing their excited stories about their day.

Fart Bone is slacking off in school and at home. He is fighting more than ever with his brother and refuses to help around the house. I think we are sliding into puberty and the age of mood swings and teendom. He doesn't understand why we get so upset about it because he is still getting mostly A's. Without any effort, he's passing but I know that he could just blow everyone out of the water if he would just freakin try! I guess it is true that you are blessed with kids that are just like you. Joy. I am excited that he is so comfortable in school. With bullying becoming an epidemic in this country, it makes me happy that even with his nerdy love of Pokémon (which he'll say himself) and his obsession with Skylanders, he has many different friends at school and has no problem making more. He is a total teacher's pet and still doesn't get crap about it from his friends. You can't help but love him.

Chunko runs our house.
His tantrums are getting more rare but when he is having a bad time, it lasts a week or more. He is very scheduled and has his rituals. I guess he got all my OCD characteristics and Fart Bone was blessed with his dad's flexibility. I'd be terrified if there was a third kid to mix all of our bad traits into one mean toddler (who would probably be 20lbs at birth). Chunko has started school and comes home with so many great things that he has learned. It is exciting to see him at the end of the day and hear him tell me what an author is and what an illustrator does. I love hearing him sing his ABCs and count to 35 (even if he is supposed to be going to sleep, not singing in the dark and stealing his brother' covers).

Of course not all of his tantrums are horrible to watch. When he first started school he would come home and just scream at us. Everything we did upset him. If we ignored his tragic wails, he would move our couch around the front room. Which makes me wish I could have caught video of my whining Godzilla baby pushing a loveseat around the room.

Now that we are not wandering our halls like sleep deprived zombies we are able to sleep and have energy to actually do chores (ew, chores) and go do more family things like hiking. We have turned off the baby monitor and have had two weeks of peaceful sleep without it. Next on our list is to get Chunko to go to bed without the drama. The kid is used to getting his own way and being able to sleep in, so we aren't expecting miracles.

Fart Bone is to my shoulders and has broken the 5 foot mark. He is all skin and bones and has a baby 6-pack. I pray every night that he can make it to 6 foot (maybe 5'11") and hasn't inherited his dad's shorter stature. Chunko is 42" and staying steady at 46lbs (even though it feels like picking up a pile of bricks would be easier). Of course my step girl is steady at 5'4" and will just be one of those ridiculously cute short girls (on top of being freakin gorg, funny and smart... brat).

Now that I have burst the damn of words since my small hiatus, hopefully I will be able to post more often and share more and more of the troublesome nut jobs I call "my children."

Maybe I'll post instead of obsessively watching Breaking Bad or American Horror Story... Prob not...

Sleep is Such a Very Beautiful Thing

I know that we are all very familiar with the troubles that we have had for the past three years with getting Chunko to sleep through the whole night, in his bed, in his room. 

Small recap: Chunko never slept for more than 3 hours at any time in his own bed. He insisted on sleeping with us in our “getting smaller by the second” bed. He slept diagonal, all the while maintaining a foot on each of us, typically in my gut and on my love’s face (the better to kick you with, my pretty). 

Smaller recap: It sucked.

We tried everything! Everything! We were sleep zombies, desperate for those few hours of continuous sleep we could squeeze out before the baby would come charging into our room. He would lull us into a false sense of sleep deprived safety and do really well for a week or so, but then it would go right back to the usual, 12am wake-up call (followed by the 1am, 3am, 5am and the final 6am wake-up calls). 

We stumbled through our day to day lives, constantly overrun by our adorable little tyrant and were in serious talk about upgrading our bed size. In our final last ditch effort to soothe our wild beast, we completely redid the boys’ bedroom. Over the past few years, we have been slowly moving Chunko’s belongings into his older brother’s room. It was time for a complete overhaul. Fart Bone’s bed was huge and oppressive and so we replaced it. We bought all new furniture, we rehung all new posters and artwork and we even saged the room. We were leaving nothing to chance.  

And it worked! Holy crap, it actually freakin worked! He settled into his required bedtime routine, and will scoot his tired butt to HIS room and sleep in HIS bed the whole night! It is a miracle desperately needed and very graciously accepted. 

The first week it happened, we were so sleep deprived that we honestly thought that it was our tired brains playing tricks on us. We could not believe that it was happening and we were going to soon be “those” parents that actually looked like they slept sometime this century. So far, it has been three blissful months of full nighttime sleeping and it has been absolutely beautiful! More beautiful than a chocolate cake after a long gym workout, for realsy though.

It is amazing how little sleep you need when you are 20 and running the town versus when you're 30, old and grumpy.

DIY Dresser

My love has a dresser that has been his since he was 10 year sold. It is over 30 years old. It has been painted and repainted at least four times.
When we first moved in together, we repainted the dresser for my step girl and she added a few of her own personal touches:

We passed the dresser down to Fart Bone but it was hidden in his closet and we eventually bought his loft bed (with more drawers than could be imagined), so the magic traveling dresser was passed on to Chunko. We again hid it in our closet.

These past couple of weeks, we have slowly been moving Chunko into his brother's room. The last thing to be transferred was the traveling dresser.

I apparently have a thing against closet doors and think they need to be removed immediately upon move in. Which means that the boys do not have closet doors to hide the dresser with their sister's name on it.

It had to be repainted before we could move it.
I saw an Ikea dresser and I loved the color, and we used it as our inspiration.
We wanted "Ikea dresser" meets "Monster's Inc"

 ^ My Inspiration

 Hard at work and making the final touches

Tada!!!

We painted it green because that was the color the boys picked (you know, Mike Wyzowski's color?)
And we added white knobs with crazy monster eyes painted on them.

It looks perfect in its new place!

Chunko is so excited to be in his own room with his brother (Fart Bone could care less).
He is very happy to wake up, walk into his own room (cause he still sneaks into our room before 6am) and pick out his days outfit.

I call this DIY a success

Wise Cracks

I am about to blather on about my butt...
That was your warning...

I have been suffering immense pain in my tailbone for the past 9 months. It hurts when I sit mostly, which is what I do for my job, eight hours a day, so it is important to try to alleviate it. I went to my primary doctor's office and determined they are complete morons. The first doctor insisted it was due to my molar pregnancy or giving birth to an 11 pound baby. I could have agreed but this started in June/ July, not over 2 years ago. He sent me off to get x-rays, which came back completely normal. The next doctor insisted I injured myself without knowing. I live a very active life and, again, could have agreed. Only problem, this was a progressive onset of pain, not a sudden discomfort. She kept blathering on about her freshman year of college and how she injured her back and didn't even know why, except she was in gymnastics and fell off a trampoline once.... I was supposed to apparently ignore it and it would go away. I insisted on an MRI referral and she reluctantly agreed. After waiting three months for my (soon to be ex) doctor's office to get their shit together and refer me to an MRI center that accepts my insurance, I got the MRI. Holy shit, that is one of the scariest experiences of my life. It wasn't so bad, until they shove you in and you realize the roof of the tube is an inch above your nose. I nearly had a panic attack after spending almost two hours in that tube of hell. The results came back and it looked like I had a slight displacement of my tailbone. Both the MRI specialist and my (idiot) doctor agreed that 3mm of movement of my coccyx is not big deal. My doctor kept insisting on my having a mysterious injury that would heal itself but I managed to get a referral to a pain management specialist. I was defeated by this point. They were more concerned about the cysts on my ovaries than the pain preventing me from sitting. I always have cysts, I didn't come there to find out what I already knew. I almost didn't go, but I am glad I did. He believed I didn't forgetfully injure my butt and he believed that any displacement of my coccyx isn't normal. He wanted me to start with steroid shots to the area and maybe in a year (or two), we would plan on having my tailbone removed completely. He said he hasn't ever seen a situation like mine except in 80 year olds with osteoporosis who fell on their butts. Clearly not 80 and not suffering osteoporosis. I went home and tapped Google to read up on these shots... and I scared the crap out of myself. I read nothing good about them and became all too aware of the possibilities of an allergic reaction. I called the nurse for some reassurance and ended up getting an earful about the pain I would soon be in. I sucked it up. One time. If it was too much, then I wouldn't go back. Simple as that. Besides, if I can birth a baby naturally, birth an 11 pound baby, have 2 blood transfusions after a D&C, then I can conquer this... I hope.

Today was the big day.
I was shaking I was so scared.
Have I mentioned I hate needles (like most normal people)?
And have I mentioned that I am extremely sensitive about my back (and my butt)?
I walk out of the waiting room and follow to the back, sniffling because my husband won't be able to hold my hand through this (apparently they didn't want to uselessly expose him to radiation, pssshh, whatever). I nervously blurted all the ridiculous crap that came to my head.
"I'm a huge cry baby and you have to deal with me now."
"I'm nervous so sorry if I make any snarky bitch comments."
"I didn't shave my legs, please ignore that."
"I don't really like people playing with my butt."
"You seem tired, are you giving me the shot?"
"Not pregnant but clearly ovulating"
"My husband had the big V, but they wouldn't give me his balls in jar. I guess they don't remove them anymore."
"I have an unusually long butt crack."
And on, and on my wise words spewed from my mouth.

I climbed on the table and sat there, still vomiting my awesomeness.
And the nurse yanks my pants down!
"I have to shove a tissue up my nose because my allergies are acting up in this overly sterile environment."
I've had quite a few surgeries but never have I had to casually lay on my stomach and talk shop while my bare ass waves in the wind. Then they had to swab the area... and then they discussed the affected area. They had to give me three numbing shots (3!!!!) and then it was over. Kind of. The nurse had to clean up the iodine, blood and shot juices... From my butt. Awkward. I am so glad Chunko is potty trained because wiping his butt after a poo would have brought back memories of my own recently wiped rear end. Like PTSD but creepier.

The anesthesia has worn off and I hurt like hell. I hope that there is improvement over time. I am overly excited to go back for more highly enjoyable butt shot fun. Nothing beats a day where you bare your ass in front of strangers.

Ps, I really do have an overly long butt crack. It is long like Jennifer Aniston's. I know my butt isn't as firm as her but it used to be

 

Crappy Pictures R Us

I don't know what the heck is wrong with the idiots who take Fart Bone's school pictures but I have declared war on them.

Life touch? Psshh, more like "Crappy Pictures R Us"

At the beginning of kindergarten and even first grade, we were begging Fart Bone to take a nice picture. He did a fake, cringe-like smile and rocked the "What the heck did you just call me?" look.

A couple of years ago, we tried some School Picture Training and we practiced his smile for hours. I gave up on getting nice, model-esque pictures of my crazy boy child and decided that if you can't fight them, then why not join them? We practiced goofy lopsided grins and we practiced a few really nice wide smiles (I hadn't completely given up yet).

When we got his pictures, his smile was actually very cute... He looked adorable, and then I noticed his shirt was tucked in. It wasn't even neatly tucked in, it was shoved in a half assed attempt to tuck my kid's shirt in. I HATE tucked in shirts. I spit venom at tucked in shirts. I don't know what it is about them but to see a shirt crappily tucked in rubs my nerves raw.

I assumed it was a fluke. I was a bit pissy but I rolled with it.

Then it was time for spring pictures. I put him in a shirt they couldn't tuck in and we practiced his smiles again. I had high hopes. Then we got the pictures....

He was in a ridiculous pose (Standing, with his hand literally gripping his chin? Who does that????) and they made him "lessen his smile"
Apparently the professional photographer thought that my sons smile was too much and made him lessen his grin. Am I the only one dying from the rancid stupidity?

I called to complain about the pose and they told me the pose goes with the background. Um, I am not a graphic designer or even proficient in photoshop (I can' even open it), but I know that I can easily switch out the background or the pose. I know because I did it!

So it was time for war...

School pictures came up again and I told Fart Bone that he was going to give me his most ridiculous smile. I wanted it to ooze with creepy stalker goodness or to remind you of someones porcelain clown collection. I wanted ugly and I wanted to cry with laughter when I saw them.

Aaaaannnnnddd they sucked.

Weak smile, lifeless eyes, lame, lame and lame. I was so mad.

First they tuck my kid's shirt in. Then they plead stupidity and refuse to change the pose. Then they made Fart Bone smile less and then, lastly they photograph him with a lame look on his face?

So it is time for spring pictures... I told him to tell the photographer that I am the one paying for the pictures and if they aren't going in the yearbook, then why can't I have it my way. I told him to tell these Lifetouch jerks that they were stupid and I might have given him a few sample taunts if the photographer argued with him (I said I was mad).
We practiced.
1.
2.
3.
Smile

 I told him I really wanted the serious frown but if not I wanted a "slap you in the face" cheesy grin with all his teeth (even the molars that hadn't grown in yet). I told him that if the photographer told him to lessen his smile, then he was to keep frowning until the photographer gave up.

After school today, I made him show me what he was able to do... He showed me two options... He won't tell me which one was taken. I guess I have to wait the 16 weeks to find out (which means so do you, I know you are dying to know). 

He has such an amazing smile... I adore him. Don't those dimples kill you?

I understand why my parents gave up on my school pictures. Why pay $50 for pictures you can't stand? You can't be there to approve. You can't even view samples before a final selection. You can't even choose a nice background without it coming with a lame pose.

Pinter-Test

Like most women, I am an avid pinner on Pinterest (and if you aren't on it, seriously get on it) and I have started a small collection of delicious looking recipes. My family has fallen into a very bad rut of crappy, bland dinners and I was hoping to throw in new things to allow new tastes in our lives. It tends to be hard to eat healthy in our family because I am a picky eater. Very very very picky eater. It has been classified as an eating disorder, it is pretty bad. With my picky tastes, it narrows what we eat down to a very small amount. The baby doesn't like meat (and no, chicken nuggets are not meat) and Fart Bone is random on what he will and will not eat. If we let him, he would eat ramen and cheese pizza for months on end and never complain.

So I scroll through millions of delicious recipes, hunting for what will meet our various wants and needs. We have tested a few of them so far. Mostly very sad fails, like the limp baked asparagus or the overly garlic and basil nightmare this was.

Last night we had success! It was delicious (x 1,000,000) and everyone loved it (except my nephew but he was sick and crabby so he doesn't count). We made twice baked potato casserole and it was to die for!!!


Pinterest Version

Our Version (Looks so much better, right?)

 We also made these cute swirly color cupcakes and they were so much fun to make. My sister and I had so much fun making the color swirls that we actually forgot to invite the kids down to help! We were trying to make designs and see what would happen if me swished colors together. It was so much fun to make and very delicious to clean up after. 

Pinterest version



Ours (Again, so much better)

I am hoping to be able to create simple, healthy snacks and lunches for the boys (cause my step girl is a teenager, we all know they live off of Mt Dew and Dorritos) and also for my husband and myself.

Why are you still here? Get on Pinterest already!!!!!

When Did It Become Ours

Last night, we were going through the basic every night struggle of getting Chunko to go to bed. He had already claimed he had to  pee. He had already had two rounds of goodnight kisses from everyone in the house, including a few stray stuffed animals. He had already changed his pajamas 3 times. He had already claimed he had to poop. We already read our four books and snuck in a fifth. Now, it was time to turn off the lights and officially go to sleep. This is when the whining started.

"I want to sleep in our bed!"
"I want to sleep in our bed!"

"I want to sleep in OUR bed!"

Wait.. What the frack???? When did MY bed become OUR bed?!?!?

Chunko is almost three years old and we still have regular fights over getting him to sleep and staying asleep. The holidays have completely ruined any sense of routine we used to have but we are slowly getting back to what is working best for us.

Unfortunately, this also means we are almsot starting fresh with our sleep training.

He goes to sleep without too much trouble, aside from the usual distractions, but the magic is getting him to stay in HIS bed throughout the whole night. I would be happy with him staying there until at least 5am. I don't think we ask too much but he seems to think we do.

We have almost given in and actually started looking into california king sized beds just to get a fraction of the space to sleep in. My love and I sleep grasping the edges of the bed on opposite sides, all while Chunko spreads out and still manages to kick me in the head and punch my love in the junk. Then we realized we were shopping for a new bed (and frame) and that our two year old was winning.

Now, I know the kid is stubborn but where do you think he got all that bull headedness? Um, his dad (totally not me), hello! We have dug our heels in and have decided to get this kid out of our bed (and when I say OUR, I mean mine and my love's) and back into HIS bed.

I am hoping to be able to successfully get Chunko to go to sleep without being watched as he tires himself out and be able to keep him out of our room for the night. I am also hoping to not be woken up at 5 am with a very crabby baby smacking me in the face and demanding I put on Caillou (have I mentioned I HATE Caillou?). And since I am asking for miracles on a star, I would also like to not be woken up at 2 am by my baby pulling my hair and pushing me out of bed, followed by screams of "I want water!"

I know, I am asking for magic faeries to fly out of my butt to help me but I am desperate to sleep a decent night's sleep.

On the plus side, due to the lack of sleep, I do get quite a bit of cleaning done. While my husband battles it out with the baby, I go through all the piles of crap that keep building up in our room. See? Optimism! I have joined a group of lovies who are helping keep each other inspired to spring clean the house. Get into a pattern where the laundry gets done every week and doesn't pile up. Scrub the kitchen floors so you can safely eat off of them (or so Chunko can continue to do so). Go through those old boxes full of "Why the hell do I have napkins from 2005?" and "Do I really need the Taco Bell receipt from 2008?"

It is so nice to have the energy (or pretend to, let's be honest) to clean! I am excited for our evil plans to work and for Chunko to repeatedly sleep through the night in his bed... It will happen. It has to happen. Please, let it happen...

So Then I Improvised

Chunko is almost completely potty trained (day AND night time thankyouverymuch)!!! I used our very last diaper/ pull-up to blow my nose in the car the other day so we are officially out!!! I am ECSTATIC!!!!

A very small downside is that when the kid says he has to go potty, he doesn't always have to go. But of course, if we ignore him, that will be when he has an accident. Then he wets himself, and the carseat and whatever else he peed on and it is all my fault for ignoring him.

We are in the car outside of Fart Bone's school and waiting in line to pick him up after school. We are trapped in a sea of parental SUVs and mini vans. That is when nature picks up her phone and calls my two year old.

"Mommy, I have go pee."
"What??? Now???"
"Yes, I have go pee"
"Are you sure???"
"Mommy, I have go NOW!!"

I cannot pull over. I cannot park. I cannot abandon my car, run in the school and back. I mildly freak out wondering why I chose today to clean out my car. I catch a glimpse of an empty water bottle and grasp it like it my saving grace. I hand it to Chunko and tell him to pee in the bottle.

At this point he has already unstrapped himself from his car seat in order to pace the car, chanting about his need for relief. He is standing in front of the front passenger seat and proceeds to pull his pants down. I keep trying to get his penis in the water bottle so he can pee... and then I look up. Into the slightly shocked and completely horrified face of the driver next to me. The woman who is acting like she has never had the opportunity to make her toddler pee in a bottle. The woman who my son is happily waving to, both hands, while I hold a bottle to his penis.

Then the bell rings, and the kids swarm. I realize my son is joyously making a spectacle of himself so I tell him to climb into the back seat to pee. He climbs back there, I reset the bottle and nothing. Apparently, the kid can only pee if people are watching? Like he has the opposite of shy bladder? Is that public bladder?

He pulls his pants up and hands me the empty bottle, "I don't have go pee, Mommy" as he climbs out of my reach. He is so lucky I had to move that car right at that moment or I would have throttled him! He sits in his carseat, buckles back up and acts like I am the crazy one!!

And let me tell you, after almost three years of this kid... Maybe I am.

Inner Peace Makes You Go Oooommmm

I am having a very hard time with anger lately. I strive to let it go and move away from it. I try not to let it into my home or my heart but I am not made of stone and I do have a temper.

I feel that I was searching for an answer when I wasn't even looking and I found this quote today:

It was the perfect reminder for me. I needed to remember to let my anger go so I wouldn't end up burning myself. I can't allow myself to become angry and bitter. I love that this popped up in front of me when I first opened my computer and it was just a happy accident that my coworker is slightly computer incompetent.

I will not focus on the negative, only on the positive (even if that was negative to say that).

I am breathing in the wonderful and breathing out the anger.
I am breathing in my love and breathing out the jealousy.
I am breathing in peace and breathing out the war inside my heart.

 

Catching Up With Myself

I am on my deathbed, sick as all hell. I have chosen to take this time to update my blog. Our lives are a wee bit hectic and if I can't take five minutes to write a blurb, then I need to reschedule stuff pronto.

In October, our family went to Disneyland, Sea World and Universal Studios. It was a week of vacation overload and it was amazing!! It seems that as soon as we crossed state lines, Chunko decided he was capable of speaking full and clear sentences. Out of nowhere, he was making demands and spinning his wild baby tales. He was tattling and begging to go on rides right along with his brother and sister.

My baby is 10!!! How on earth did he go from 4 o 10 overnight?!?! It is so hard to look at this boy and realize that he is just around the corner of teen mania. He is maturing too fast. He is super smart and somehow manages to be the Teacher's Pet but also the Class Clown. I adore his goofy jokes and crazy faces.

November and December are a whirlwind. Lots of family time and lots of parties. Every weekend was some sort of gathering. Christmas was so wonderful. It was marred by some difficult behavior but it was still amazing.

2013 has not yet brought good tidings for us. It has brought some and I am trying to focus on them but the more negative aspects are still a little prominent. We were hit by some very large unexpected medical charges and my love's car broke down and needed some fixins.

What has hit me hardest is my grandmother's passing. I am trying to mourn her to the best of my ability but due to circumstances I (who works in a funeral home) have been blocked out of helping.

I have also lost my fragile relationship with my mother. What could have easily been fixed, was allowed to waste away and rot. I am in a depression and am mourning my loss of her, too. While she has not passed, I still feel that it will be a great amount time before this can be healed, if ever.

That is hard to say. Nobody wants to be without their Mommy but I haven't had mine in years.

I am NOT focusing on the negative! I refuse to.

My sister graduated Suma Cum Laude with her Bachelor's degree!!! I am in awe of her. A single mom for too long, working full time, going to school full time. Then, she meets a great man, marries him and graduates Suma Cum Laude!! I teared up watching her walk across that stage and receive her degree and handshake.

My other sister and I did a quirky road trip to watch her graduate and sneak in some fun time at Castles & Coasters. It was crazy and if it had been with anyone else, it could have gotten ugly quickly. My niece cried pretty much the whole time we were in the car. She is lucky she is so adorable or the person sitting next to her (ie, me) might have strapped her carseat to the roof of the car. My nephew vomited fruit loops on the way there. I will not be eating those for a looooooong time. The smell is still stuck in my nose. My gooboo threw up as we pulled into the parking lot of our motel. We had a smidge of time to clean up, shove the four crazy babies back in the car and make it to the graduation. The next day we partied at Castles & Coasters. The babies loved the coasters. My niece was miffed she couldn't ride the bigger rides (cause she's a midget) and Chunko could (cause he's a beast). Of course, on the way back, my gooboo threw up all over the car, which started a chain of gagging from the rest of us. We were in 20 degree weather wiping down my son, wiping down the car and gagging. Thankfully the rest stop restroom was very well heated and the cashier was very understanding.

My job has gotten incredibly busy with new expectations. I thrive on it but I am learning how to manage my time better. I went from some work here and there to holy hell in less than a month. I am used to my desk having neat piles here and there and now it is usually covered in paperwork. My OCD cries regularly. I have my own desk! I am so excited. I haven't had my own desk in a long time. I share it on the weekends but we all share our desks at some point. I am no longer reception and have been moved to admin. No more phonecalls but lots more paperwork.

I know we are only a month into 2013 and I am eager to see what it brings us. Normally, after a downpour such as this, we are blessed with sunshine so I am excited for this to pass. Cause as they say "this too shall pass" and it will.

Here is a pic of my two poor sick babies, no one is safe from my camera: