"Cool Hand Nikky"

"What we have here, is a failure to communicate..."

So it seems, doesn't it? Well, I throw myself upon the mercies of the internet. Prostrate in my apologies for denying you that little sip of Nikky to quench your thirst. That little nibble of the Padded Room to satisfy your hunger.

I request of thee a punishment for my sin of neglect. A punishment so grand that it satisfies even the most hardened among you. I beg of thee to make use of the wet noodle, and give me the lashings I so rightly deserve.

There. Was that dramatic enough for you? Why does it always seem that I am apologizing on this thing? LOL!

All is well in the Padded Room, thanks for asking!

Nothing truly interesting or exciting to report.

Boy crapped in the pool today. You heard me. SHIT IN THE POOL. What the fuck is up with that? So, we had the whole, "the pool is not a toilet" conversation. Of course, that was immediately followed by the, "honey, we don't play with ourselves while we're sitting on mommy's lap. it's not appropriate." talk.

Have I yet expounded on the many heavenly qualities of the ipod?? A little slice of heaven, this electronic device. I added about 15 cds to our library today. Wahoo!

Boy turns three tomorrow. Did you hear that? THREE. My little baby boy. THREE. The fact that he has actually MADE it to three is a testament to several things. 1) His cuteness. Because, seriously. If the child wasn't as cute as he is? There is NO way he'd still be around. 2) My unwavering patience. (LOL!) Again, if I wasn't as saintly and even-tempered as I am, he wouldn't be here. (sippy throwing incidents aside. No. Not him throwing it. Me. Yeah. You can say it. Mom of the year. Right here, folks!) 3) The luck of the Irish and the grace of God. Whatever. I couldn't come up with a good #3. But, sadly enough, I think those totally fit.

So, anyway. Tomorrow we are taking BOTH kids to the movies. (what in the hell am I thinking? A 15 month old? At the movies? Why do I put myself in these situations?) And, if the movie goes well (*insert maniacal laughter here*), we might brave our first trip to Chuck E Cheese. How, you ask yourselves, have we gone this long without a pilgrimage to that sacred locale? That altar of all that is hyper and cheesy? I do not know, my child. But, tomorrow. Tomorrow, all answers shall be revealed. And the kids shall know Chuck E. And, it shall be good.

Saturday is his birthday party. Dinosaurs as far as the eye can see. Saturday night, bachelorette party! Can anyone say Dee-RUNK. LOL! I am very much looking forward to it!

So, that's about it. Nothing too thrilling. Besides several earth-shattering personal revelations, as of late, that's all that the Padded Room has to offer you right now.

Have you been quenched? Your hunger sated?

Perhaps, in the interest of sparing myself another tortuous round with that damp noodle, I'll try to post more often. But, maybe, just maybe, I liked it...

Blinded by the light....

(Adult interaction+shopping+a grande java chip frappuccino) by the sun coming out for more than 10 minutes for the first time in WEEKS=a much happier woman.

(Thanks, Mom!)

Oh give me a home, where the buffalo roam, and the kids are quiet all day....

If you didn’t already know, there are some moments in motherhood that make you want to blow your fucking brains out. When you ask yourself “what on earth have I done? I actually WANTED this? Would anyone notice if I took off for Mexico and never came back?”

Sigh… Rough morning. Can you tell?

Hubs worked an overtime last night. So he is currently asleep. (I have an hour until pre-approved wake up time.) I get a half hour of help, then he has to start getting ready for work again. Girl won’t nap. Poops every time. I’m on 4th attempt. Boy is… well, his usual self. Seriously, is 5 minutes of relative quiet too much to ask? Oh, and I think the topper to it all is that I started my period today. Since I’ve had the copper IUD installed, my periods are extremely heavy, like SCARY heavy, and take a lot out of me. BLEH.

So, I’m sure that this is NOT the update you wanted after my extended blogging hiatus. I am sorry. I haven’t meant to ignore you, oh sweet internet, I’ve just not felt the urge to write. I apologize for leaving you with a butt smell story for oh these many weeks. But, I really could fill an entire blog with the poop-scapades that go on in the Padded Room. So, it is relatively appropriate!

We’ve been awfully busy around here, though! Girl turned one! Can you believe it?

Boy is (**whispering, so as not to arouse the attention of the Jinx gods**) potty-trained. Except for naps and bedtime, that is.

I am loving my job anymore. Except that they blocked all the fun stuff on the internet recently. Including my sweet, sweet Blogspot. Thus, the lack of updates… Is that a good enough excuse? No? Ummmm… Aliens abducted me? (wait, no kids? No toys to pick up, dishes to do? Hmmm… OH ALIENS!!!! HERE I AM!!!!) Ok, so I’m not feeling creative today. The dog ate my blog? No? Well, how about I throw myself upon the mercies of the internet, and beg for forgiveness? That’s about the best I can muster this morning.

Oh. Know what is utterly thrilling? Having your almost three year old INTENTLY watching as one changes a maxi-pad. Nice. Even better? Having your one year old reach for it while you are doing it. And, to top off the entire joyous experience, the three year old’s interested commentary* on what is in the toilet when you are done…

(* I use the word commentary VERY loosely. He still only has about 20 words. However, I know exactly what he’s trying to say. Am I odd that I don’t want to explain menstruation to a 3 year old?)

Well, off I go into the wild blue yonder that is the Padded Room. Yippy-ki-yay, mother-fucker.

#104 on the list of things you thought you would never say until you had kids.

Boy got a Mr. Potato-Head for Christmas. I now realize that this wasn’t the most intelligent gift, since it has 40 pieces. FORTY. And, they are all over the family room. All the time.

Anyway, so Boy and I started playing this game a week or so ago, where we’ll put the Mr. Potato-Head lips in on our mouths (putting the stick part in our mouths and holding it there, so it looks like our lips, right?), and I’ll try to give him kisses, and we just giggle. Good, quality time, right?

Last night, during naked time, he was playing around, hubs and I were reading the paper and chatting. Boy gets all excited and runs up to me with the two Mr. Potato-Head tongues. (one for each of us!) I take the one he offers me, and put the stick part in my mouth, with all sorts of silly plans to pretend lick him with this tongue. After a few seconds, I snatch the thing out of my mouth…

“WAS THIS IN YOUR BUTT???? WAS THIS IN YOUR BUTT??? Honey, we do not put things in our butt!” (#104)

How did I know? When I had it in MY MOUTH I could smell the butt on it. I. COULD. SMELL. THE. BUTT.

Sweet Jesus. What on earth am I going to do with this child?

Yawn.

Is it dangerous to begin a blog post with no idea of what you are going to say? Hmmm... I suppose we shall see, won't we?

I guess I could offer an update from the Padded Room? How does that sound class?

The great flooring project of Christmas 2005 has been completed. And, if I may say, it looks fucking AWESOME!! It was alot easier than we thought it would be, and it turned out beautifully! Now, when Boy spills milk, he grabs a towel and wipes it up himself. Nice.

Christmas was hectic. We're not done yet either. Trip to the Bay Area to see MIL on Monday. We're staying the night so hubs can get new glasses on Tuesday. Thankfully, we're getting a two bedroom suite. Girl and I in one room. Boy and Hubs in another. This also means that we won't have to go to bed at 7:30pm! And, yes, we have to go to the Bay Area for hub's glasses. MIL is an optician. Therefore, that's where we go. You know anyone else that travels 2 hours for an eye appointment?

Girl is such a joy. Except when she's tired. However, she is so much easier than her brother, temperment-wise! She's a pro at crawling now, and is getting pretty good at that cruising thing to! And, the child is an absolute chow-hound. She will eat anything. She snags her brother's food on a regular basis. I can't eat without her at my knee, begging for food. Thankfully, she's got the chewing thing down pretty well, so I can share most things with her. She's still an awful sleeper, though. Up 3-4 times a night. UGH.

Boy is such a two year old. LOL! Need I say more? He goes from holy terror to sweetie-pie in 2.3 seconds. I cannot believe how big he's getting, though! Such a big boy. Sigh... makes me wanna tear up sometimes.

Hubs has been a grump lately. Can't figure out why. Working on it.

Otherwise, not too much excitment happening.

Sorry for the boring post. Again, the dangers of blogging without direction.

Please blog responsibly, folks. And, have a happy new year!

How sad am I??

Ok. I moved out of my mom's house when I was 21. That was over 9 years ago. I have since lived in 4 different homes.

So, why is it, that when I am coming home from the grocery store, I still turn on my blinker and come 'this close' to turning onto her street??????

Reason # 5,763 that we are certifiably insane:

Hubs has a 4 day weekend this weekend. We have decided to tear up the family room carpeting and put down laminate flooring this weekend. OURSELVES. The WEEKEND BEFORE CHRISTMAS. Only pausing on Saturday afternoon to attend the extended family Christmas celebration. Dear, sweet, Jesus.

I mean, there is a reason for it. After several years of our pain in the ass dogs (anyone want a couple dogs? Really. I'll ship for free?), there is a gaping hole in the carpet. While you are probably thinking, 'why don't you put something over it? Carpet, furniture, etc.?' Unfortunately, it's not really an option. Locationally and toddler-wise. The main reason the hole is even an issue is that I have a 9 month old female vacuum cleaner, and, while she puts some really nasty things in her mouth (see previous post), I don't take kindly to the thought of her choking on carpet padding. I've found pieces of it in her mouth twice. And, yes, I simply choose not to think about what might be in that padding. For now, I choose to focus on the fear of choking, suffocating death.

Anyway, the offending carpet will be removed this weekend. I'll let you know if we survive.

Oh, and one last thing. I love my toddler, I really do. But, sometimes, I just don't like him. Does that make me a bad mom? Or does that simply make me human?


(Final note: Yes, I am choosing to ignore that is has been a month and a half since my last post. I hope you have all enjoyed the poop-eating post for the last 6 weeks. I hope to continue to offer you the same level of entertaining fare in the future.)

Oh. My. God.

I am amazed that kids ever make it to adulthood. And, to be honest? I'm amazed that parents ever make it through their kids' childhood.

Need an example?

Mmm. Let me elaborate for you a bit.

Quick note: Are you eating right now? Put it down. Step away from the doughnuts, spaghetti, or ham sandwich. You will NOT want to be eating for this one.

So, if I hadn't mentioned it yet, Girl is crawling now. It's actually been wonderful, for several reasons, but that's not why we're here, now is it? Tonight, she was making her way around the family room floor. Boy was watching Shrek 2, and I was watching them both, but also trying to figure out the Cryptoquote in today's paper. It gets to be about bedtime (ah... sweet relief!), and I go to pick up Girl to get her ready. I notice a discolored area at the neckline of her shirt. I thought, "Hm. Well, she probably just spit up a little. It almost looks dirty, though? Well, this carpet isn't the cleanest (considering this is the only room the dogs are allowed in), no big deal..." This is all going through my head as I carry her back to her room. As we are walking into her room, I notice she's doing this funny mouth/expression thing. It's relatively new, but I THINK it means that she might have something in her mouth. So, I put her down on the changing table, pull off her socks, pull of her pants, and then decide to check out what may or may not be in her mouth. So, I pry open her mouth, take a look around, and see something inside her left cheek that she's kinda working around. I finger sweep it out. Look at it. Hmmm. Smell it.

HOLY FUCKING GOD. MY EIGHT MONTH OLD DAUGHTER IS SUCKING ON A POOPBALL LIKE IT'S A PIECE OF FUCKING CANDY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am not kidding you, folks. This is my life.

Pardon me for a moment.

**pauses to lean over and violently puke guts out**

I'm back.

I swear. I am so ill. I cannot believe this. She was NOT acting like it was bad, either. What the fuck is wrong with my kids??? Why the poop-eating????? WHY???????? First one, then the other. I have no clue whether Girl's gourmet tidbit was dog poop (that may have traveled in on their feet) or possibly an escapee from Boy's diaper, but either way, I am SO sick. And, obviously, it wasn't in her mouth for only a few seconds either... thus the 'dirty' neckline of her shirt. Which, it turns out, was dirty from POOP COLORED SALIVA!!!!!

**Retching again**

And before you get all "how long has it been since she's vacuumed???" It has only been a few days. I swear.

Like it was candy. POOP. CANDY.

Dear, sweet Jesus. I do not think I am going to survive these kids. I really don't. Ok, my sanity might (MIGHT) make it, but my stomach sure as hell isn't.