If He Could Be A Fly On The Wall, He’d Be Bored

Sometimes, my sweet hubby gets a little pissy about my friendship with Sal and Paul. It’s usually after a conversation with his sister that includes her disapproval, but I’m not supposed to know that. Most of the time, he has no problem with it, they’ve been my friends since I was 16 years old and he knows both of them well, but since my husband’s sister is of the belief that men only talk to a girl because they want to get in her pants and she is a shit stirrer, occasionally, Geno feels threatened. If he would just remember that he 1- has a penis and 2-22 years is a long time to wait for some booty, we wouldn’t have these lovely little chats.
So when my little love muffin came home today I told him that Paul and I had one of our daily chats that he worries about. Today’s topics included Paul’s paranoia over possibly being fired, wearing a burka at the beach and how he has making hard boiled eggs down to a science. You know, so the shell peels right off and the yoke is yellow not green or grey? Hot stuff, right? Add in the fact that when I had the most horrifying/ humiliating surgical procedure of my life, I called those two momos from the parking lot of the surgi center. Trust me, no one who is having impure thoughts about someone calls that someone to describe to them in detail how you just had rectal surgery. That is NOT a turn on. So don’t worry, puppy, I’m all yours.

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The ball and chain had to go shape a night construction job on the belt parkway,which left me with minding my little cherubs all by my lonesome after working all day. So, we had our soup, sandwich and cookie dinner and watched some Curious George. The ladybug is usually very agreeable about bed time, so that left me and the boys.
In between episodes of C.G., beating the shit out of each other and me asking them to stop a hundred times before I crack their coolies with the wooden spoon, Quinnie must’ve worn himself out. Out of the blue he whirls around and says “hey, Mom, I’m tired! I gotta get to bed. Jeez”
So I tell him to get to steppin, nobody is making you stay up anyway. Crazy kid. Then I asked the boys if they want to have a sleepover because Daddy won’t be home until morning. Quinn rejects me, unless he can get back into my uterus, he isn’t settling for anything less. Liam was all over that invitation, though.
So the biggun picks a movie, snuggles up and complains that my feet are ice cubes and I better keep them on my side of the bed. We talked about his day and how he feels things are going. I explain to him that I do feel he needs some kind of help managing his attention and impulsivity, but we are going to try something homeopathic and see if it helps. I let him know that he has to be an active participant in his treatment and he has to give me feedback, whether it is good, bad or indifferent. He yeses me to death cause he just wants to watch the movie and shoves his cold ass feet under my warm caboose ( the nerve ) and he is snoring his face off, just like his father.
Liam wouldn’t be who he is without his ADHD. Sure he is anxious, nervous, over sensitive, impulsive and relentless but be is also smart, compassionate, funny and corny. And in as many ways as he is super mature for his almost ten years, he is still young and innocent enough to jump at a chance to sleep with Mommy. I am not ready to give those days up. Yay for me.

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A.D.H.D. Is making me C.R.A.Z.Y.

Liam is in a battle with ADHD and right now the ADHD is winning. I am partly to blame. I agreed with his father to take him off his medication because I knew the only way his father would realize that the medicine is necessary would be for him to see how Liam was without it. So now we are bombarded with notes from his teacher about his behavior and inattentiveness all while dealing with a cranky, unhappy Liam who feels like he can’t do anything right.

There is more to it than that. Liam also makes no effort at all to control his impulses or to try to pay attention. I don’t know if that is because he really and truly can’t make an effort or if he just doesn’t want to. I would like it and appreciate it if he would make an effort to be aware of what he is doing and try to modify his behavior.

I would also like all the parts of his 504 plan to be implemented, not just some of them. Why does the plan clearly state that he will be given special accommodations for tests but only now has the teacher said they can’t provide those accommodations? What’s the point of hammering out that plan if we are going to follow it half assed?

While his teacher is mostly wonderful, she is doing nothing by telling him he is annoying her and telling him he is exhausting and announcing to the kids that she doesn’t care if she is hurting their feelings. No good is going to come from that, she is only further damaging his already fragile self esteem.
Truthfully, I’m worn out. Managing his ADHD is supposed to be a collaborative effort, but I am the only one participating in it. Just as his teacher is tired of hearing excuses from him, I’m tired of hearing that everything is his fault. He’s nine! I’ve had ten meetings with this teacher. They are all the same. “He is extremely intelligent but I lose him during the day and I don’t know where he goes. He isn’t even aware that he has drifted off. He has to make more of an effort. He has to grow up. It isn’t his fault , I know he has no control over it”. Am I supposed to have an answer for this? He’s my first kid. I’m learning as I go. I don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong and what might work today might be wrong tomorrow. I know the kid needs his meds, they help. I know he needs to burn off steam and I know he needs reminders. I know he is nine and he acts like he is nine. I don’t know if he can pay attention just because he wants to and I don’t know if he has any control over his impulsivity or his daydreaming. I don’t know if I am doing the right thing by him, but I’m pretty sure his school isn’t either. I know he is mine, he is awesome and I love him. I think his teacher needs an anti cranky pill and a vacation.

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Shit Quinn Says

Today was a day for me and Quinn to spend some quality time. He is my middle guy and he is really a mama’s boy. He took it pretty hard when we brought Rosebud home from the hospital and I’ve been trying to make it up to him ever since.

So I took him with me to run errands. We listened to “I don’t care, I love it” in the car, twice, because he loves it. He ate half the groceries in the car on the way home. He is delicious and I love him, but he is crazy.

He needed new shoes but was completely freaked out by my taking his shoes off to try on new ones. Then he kept telling me he is not wearing pants anymore so stop looking at them. He said that a 100 times at least. I told him I was looking at pants for me and he told me I don’t need them either. Then we saw all these long flowing maxi dresses and he wanted me to get one. So I explained that I am way too short for those and he asked “Can I wear girls clothes?” Sure you can, your dad will love that, but of course you can.
Then he gave the lady on line behind us the major stink eye. She told him he was the devil so he said “I’m the devil with a cute little face.” He refers to everyone by size and shape like I am big, rectangle mommy and Ava is small rectangle Avawoses. Whenever he had to go to the bathroom he says ” excuse me, I have to go poopoo and peepee now so I have to shut my shows off so I can’t hear max and ruby while I’m going to the bafroom.” As if he needs permission to go to the bathroom. I thought he would go to college in diapers! Then to end our day we saw a puppy sleeping in the rear window of a car. He stopped to look at him and giggled and smiled. He said ” I love that puppy so much, I’m going to punch him in the ass”. That’s how he expresses his love for u, by saying he will punch you in the ass, which is interesting because no one in his environment says that. I know you aren’t supposed to curse in front of your kids and if he were listening to me he would be calling everyone a mother effer. Where he gets the punching in the ass thing, I have no idea. Just one of those funny Quinnisms that one day won’t be anymore. These kids seem to lose some of their quirks as they get older and replace them with new ones. I enjoyed my day and he must have too. When we got home, I got a hug and a kiss and a punch in the ass.

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I got an message from a fellow blogger on Monday, from thelittledabbler, http://thelittledabbler.wordpress.com/2013/04/29/i-was-nominated-for-a-liebster-award/, Ms. Libby Sawyer. She stated that she had nominated me for a Liebster award. I was amazed for many reasons.

1- I am really new to this blogging stuff

2- wish I could say my blog is creative, but it is mostly a written account of my “truth is stranger than fiction life”.

3-I am really not all that impressed with my blog, especially when I compare it to everyone else’s.

I sent her a note thanking her and promising to fulfill all the requirements of Liebsterdom the following evening. And then I had a brain fart. That lasted a week. I never did anything about it. Never even posted a blog this a whole week. I feel like a big fat promise breaker because I swore I would get right on this Monday night and I didn’t. I am a high strung, control freak, perfectionist and it is driving me crazy that I didn’t remember to do this sooner. So here goes. Keep in mind that I don’t know how to tag people in these posts, so I will continue to do my best, which is wrong, but still somehow works, in my own convoluted, half-assed, round about way.

11 Random Facts About Me

1. See my comment about my most lovable personality traits? That should count as one.

2. I thought I was so smart and married a guy that I thought was the polar opposite of my old boyfriend. But my best friend tells me that all they guys I dated are so similar, they should just have interchangeable heads.

3. I am the oldest of three children and I am my parent’s favorite. They don’t have to tell me, I just know it.

4. I prefer animals to people. Animals do not judge and they love unconditionally. Dogs are my favorite.

5. Right this very second, I am super pissed at my husband and for his sake, I better be asleep when he gets home or he is in DEEP doodoo

6. I love the smell of oranges but would prefer not to eat one.

7. I hate when people have that dirty hair smell. You know, the smell when someone hasn’t washed their hair in a week and they walk past you and the back-draft from them hits you in the face and you throw up in your mouth a little bit, Yeah, that one. I would rather smell shit then that smell

8. I am addicted to Ben and Jerry’s and Taco Bell Chalupas

9. I am very strict with my kids only because I want them to do far better then I did in this game called life.

10. I really love being a girl and would never want to be a boy

11. I think anyone should be able to marry, though I don’t understand why they would want to be. Haven’t the gays looked around and seen how blissfully happy all the straights are? It’s legalized slavery for God’s sake. ( I know I am in deep shit for this statement, but whatevs. that is the story of my life)

11 Questions from my Nominator

1.) How would you describe yourself? I am patient and loyal and have no tolerance for dishonesty or stupidity. I am petite, but vicious, like a Chihuahua.IMG_0011

2.) How would other people describe you? Everyone says I am nice or that I don’t like them. Both are true lol. Depends on who you ask

3.) What was your motivation to start blogging? I thought I was losing my mind and didn’t want to take it out on my family, so I started blogging. Now I am convinced I am losing my mind.

4.) When you’re not blogging, what do you do? Work, be a mom, play at the playground, try to fulfill my wifely duties in the biblical sense, watch mindless tv, go for walks, work, yell at my husband, read other people’s blogs and drink

5.) What’s the first childhood memory that you have? My grandfather put my whole ice cream cone in his mouth and ate 3/4 of it and just handed me back the pointy bottom. He told me it was the world’s smallest ice cream cone. I thought it was the coolest thing ever. I loved him forever and always and I never, ever forgot that. He loved me for not crying and thinking it was a cool trick

6.) Would you like to hear Sean Connery try to say “worcestershire sauce”? Admit it. It would be interesting. he is a wife beater and I would kick his old crusty ass and then make him say it

7.) What kind of pets do you have? currently none, but I have had dogs, cats, ferrets, hedgehogs, frogs, hamsters, gerbils and fish

8.) How many cats does a person have to have to be considered a crazy cat lady? 4

9.) Have you ever seen the made-for-television movie series called Sharpe? Never

10.) What’s something you are feeling guilty about, right now? not writing this sooner, my eyelids are getting heavy. I might have to do this in two parts

11.) Can you guess the riddle? I wish I could but I suck at these too and then when I see the answer I always think “duh, that was so obvious, jackass, you should’ve guessed that”

I turn polar bears white and I will make you cry. I make guys have to pee and girls comb their hair. I make celebrities look stupid and normal people look like celebrities. I turn pancakes brown and make your champagne bubble. If you squeeze me, I’ll pop. If you look at me, you’ll pop.


This is my next stop. I have to go through all my blogging pals that I love and find people with less than 200 followers and I would also like to find people I haven’t nominated before. I am going to have to give this careful thought and considerable research and make a part 2 to this post.

Thank you Libby Sawyer. From the bottom of my heart, I am flattered and humbled.

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I think I am heading down to crazy

I think I am heading down to crazy town and I am the one putting myself there.  It’s ok, I’ve been there before, there is actually a suite named after me.  It is just this feeling that I am about to come undone, that is very unsettling, especially to a control freak such as myself.

There is a lot going on in life. Not just my own, but in everyone’s.  This is a marvelous world that we live in with endless possibilities.  However, we all have seen the darker side of things, the times when things don’t seem to go right.  We have all been there, some have had greater struggles than others, but we all get our turn in doo doo town.

I am residing in doo doo town currently, but I am trying very hard to ignore that fact.  I enjoy my life. I approach everything with a sense of humor and I won’t let the “man” keep me down. I am luckier than most and I am fully aware of that.  I am lucky that I still have my parents in my life and that they are awesome people, especially my Dad. I am lucky that I have been married to the same person for eleven years.  I am no cake walk.  Sure he is an ass, but he is my ass and I love him, even during the shitty times.  I have beautiful, healthy children, that are smart and funny like their mom and good-looking like their dad. I have a job. Can’t say that I love it, can’t say that I hate it, but I have one and in these times, that is a major plus. Thanks to stress, I finally lost that ten pounds I’ve been struggling to lose since I stopped breastfeeding.  These are all good things and I am grateful, but my mantra of “I am very blessed and this is just a bump in the road and it will get better” isn’t really cutting it anymore, only because I have been saying it for so long. I know that old saying that God doesn’t give you anything you can’t handle and what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, but I am not sure why he has the impression that I can handle what is currently on my plate.  I guess he is right in a way because I can handle it, but I am starting to crack from the pressure of dealing with things and trying to keep a happy face on at all times, because if mommy loses it, other people get very worried.

I know there is a lesson in here somewhere. I am patiently waiting for my Aha moment. I don’t want to say that things could always be worse, because the Man upstairs seems to take that as a challenge and show me what worse is. So I just keep going and laughing at the silly things that I find amusing.  The combination of living in doo doo town but acting as though I live in an oceanfront hut in Tahiti is making me more coocoo than I usually am.  I am starting to laugh at things that really aren’t funny and it sounds like a crazy person laugh. My husband gave me the look. The “holy crap it’s time to call the men in white coats” look at the dinner table. He has some pair of balls, by the way, because I believe he was conceived in a nuthut. Someone should tell him he shouldn’t mess with the person he sleeps next to.

The turning point will be this weekend, which I will spend at my parent’s house with my kids.  I will either leave there feeling much better, comforted and at ease, or I will leave there in a straight jacket and an ambulance with my mother yelling “I told you so” running behind it.  No one knows how to make you eat a shit sandwich like your mother! Wish me luck.

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coitus interruptus

So we all know my date went right in the crapper last night. By the time my second wind wore off and I was ready for bed at 1am, my husband had woken up from his  power nap and wanted to know what had happened to our date.  My response was to roll over in my most unflattering pair of sweatpants and old P.A.L t-shirt and go to sleep.

This morning all my kids woke up at once, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed like squirrels on crystal meth and I felt like I had the worst hangover in the world, even though all I had to drink was water and Dr. Pepper. It took forever for me to log roll myself out of bed and even at that, I just rolled into the living room and laid on the couch.  I gave the baby a bottle and some dry cheerios, turned on Nick, Jr and tried to muster up the energy for a run to the bagel store.

For some strange reason, my pervie husband found this extremely attractive. He decided he was going to make his best effort to woo me out of my crusty sweatpants and reclaim date night, only on Sunday morning.

Firstly, my husband has no game. It is sad really, but my friend Paul and I did some research on this.  Men that are really good-looking don’t have to work at having game because women are always throwing themselves at them anyway. Whereas my friend Paul, who I happen to think is very cute, but he says no, can charm the pants off of anyone because he has spent years honing his skills.

Geno in 1984Secondly, I suppose he has never met his sons, CB and CB jr. I can’t even go to the bathroom without an interruption and this man thinks he is going to get a few minutes alone with me? I do believe he has lost his mind.

So my poor husband spent the morning pursuing me around the house, trying to persuade me to give up the drawers. Now I knew it wouldn’t work and that it would never happen.  Even if we could sneak off for a while, I would be distracted by the oldest brother torturing the youngest brother or the baby waking from his nap or the big one beating on the door to tell us something that he thought was important.+

I don’t know if I was delirious from exhaustion or if I thought his wooing technique was so pathetic that I found it funny, but I caved. We snuck off and tried, I mean really put our best efforts in to have ten minutes of intimacy. We tried for over an hour and did not succeed. It was quite possibly the most horrible experience since the last time we tried to squeeze some lovin in during the day.

First, Quinn came knocking, five different times at five-minute intervals to snuggle, ask me to put the straw in his Capri sun, tie his shoe, tell me had to poop and just to say hi. It  was actually funny and cute.  He clearly went to the same CB school as his brother.

Then Liam is no dummie. If Geno and I are alone in our room, something is going on.  He thinks we are either talking about stuff he wants to know, planning a party or arguing and he is not having it.  So now all of a sudden, he has to put clothes in the hamper, tattle on Quinn or wants to tell me about some b.s. going on at school.  He was relentless.

Then, as if on cue, the ladybug woke up. And now I have the female equivalent of blue balls. And no one is going to get laid later because none of the adults in this house can stay up past ten and we all know the Game of Thrones is on tonight. Funny TV Ecard: Game of Thrones is on. It's time to shut the fuck up.It is nothing short of a miracle that I managed to get pregnant with child two and child three. What a way to close out a weekend.


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