The other day I was having a conversation with a good friend about a guy that she met that she wasn't quite sure if she was interested in, but wasn't getting adequate attention from the guy she was interested in. I know we've all been there, because man or women, the Midsummer Night's Dream scenario of girl loves guy, who loves another girl, who in turn loves another guy, who in turn, and so on and so on, is a reality, not just a comedy created by William Shakespeare. It's something we've all been victims of in the past and possibly in our present and future to. We see how wonderful a potential relationship with a person is, and how happy we would make them, but it often seems as if that person is not on the same page as we are, and no matter how hard you try (Look under 311 in my ITunes or at the WVU gear in my dresser drawer), you can't get them to just get with the program and comply with what you want. This is the common human problem of we want what we can't have. Hash tag it #humanproblems, tweet it, what have you, but we are all put in this situation at some point in our lives. Accepting the rejection of not always getting the "man or woman of your dreams" can be especially hard. Needless to say I have been there more times than I would care to admit in the last several years. On the plus side I really enjoy the band 311 AND I like WVU sports now. Everything happens for a reason I suppose.
Back to the point of my story. When listening to my friend talk I decided it was time to enlighten her to the term "tissue". What is a tissue you may ask? I will tell you. Think about what you do with a tissue. Take it out of the box, blow your nose in it, and toss it in the trash when your done. A tissue is the man that makes you feel special when the one your really into won't. He's the man that is OK with taking you out to dinner and not getting any (or at least if he's not OK he's too polite to admit it), or the man that can tell you your beautiful; even though it may not come from the man that your hot all over about, it still feels nice to be appreciated. You can even use them for a little wham bam thank you ma'am, if you so desire and do it safely. It fulfills the natural urges we have as humans to feel loved, to feel desired, and special. This may sound harsh, but men do it to women all the time. After a year and a half of feeling bad about myself. Angry and resentful that my children's dad moved on to someone else, and pissed off at the man after him who decided he didn't want my kids and I in his life, I decided I had had enough. I had had enough of men taking advantage of my feelings for them and making me feel bad about myself. This point of this is, is no one can make you feel anyway. Someone can tell you your ugly, and you feel bad, but they didn't make you feel bad. You feel bad because you got rejected and you are allowing someone else to control and manipulate how you feel. I came to the conclusion that enough was enough. Happiness is in ones own control. A relationship with another person cannot work if you aren't happy with yourself. Around this time I met a guy we shall call Irish. He took me to lunch and soon made it very clear that he wasn't trying to date, and blatantly said "I just want to F***". I explained that this was not what I was looking for, and if this was what he wanted, I wasn't his girl so lose my number. He continued to text me and let me know how attracted he was to me. I finally caved and after a couple of dates where he was getting no where. He asked to come down for dinner and to talk. He did the whole song and dance about "I decided I really like you", "lets talk about things and see where they go". I relented and (unsuccessfully) put my kids to bed and told him to come down. I called him when I would say he was probably right around the corner to inform him my kids were still awake. At this point he informed me he had "no interest in my kids and just wanted to F***". At that, I calmly told him to "F*** off", and informed him that we wanted different things and hung up on him. Needless to say, I still occasionally hear from him. I normally have taken the asshole stance and talk about other men to him and I can tell that just burns him up. It felt good to walk away from the situation on top for once, rather than feeling rejected and hurt. I decided that this was a good way to be, and am happy to say I haven't really been all that upset over a man ever since. Hence, the term tissue was born. Would I do this to a decent, kind, man? No. But as far as I'm concerned playing stupid games is just that, stupid. If I happen to come across a jerk who thinks he has the upper hand, can play games, and can get what he wants and bounce, I say play ball. At that point he can buy me dinner, he can take me on dates, and shower me with complimentary texts, but that's all he's going to do. Sometimes in life one chance is all you have and in relationships this should be true I think. I adore the old saying, "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool you twice, shame on me". That, unfortunately, does not stop me from falling time and time again for two men that have been in my life, but it does allow me to keep some pride intact and now show just how worked up a select couple of men in my life can get me. I suppose such is life and dating.
I reminded my friend at this point that she wasn't having her needs fulfilled where she wanted them fulfilled, so even if she wasn't feeling like this guy was "the one", it couldn't hurt to get to know him a little better, and possibly see him again if she so desired. After educating her about the benefits of a tissue, she actually gave it another shot and things are going well. Sometimes a tissue becomes a handkerchief I suppose and sticks around longer, then just the tissue sitting in the car cup holder that eventually gets thrown away. I guess time will tell for my friend. On that note, it is wayyy past my bed time. So good night readers!
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Monday, June 3, 2013
Whose to Blame?
Tonight I am going to focus on a topic that has absolutely nothing to do with me. Well, minus the single mom thing, which is common in the group of people that I am about to talk about. My focus for this post will be on the teen mom. Many would blame shows like "Sixteen and Pregnant", or "Teen Mom" for encouraging young girls to become mom's early. To this I would say, if your stupid enough to think being sixteen and getting knocked up, is a guarantee to getting your newly stretch marked ass on TV, you would deserve what you get for being so dumb. Unfortunately, you would also then be responsible for raising human life, which is a huge responsibility and scary that someone that thinks making themselves a part of the teen mom statistic is a good idea, would be taking on. As a much older single mother I find that it is difficult, stressful, and overwhelming. This is after I have already had time to party, be carefree, and accomplish some of the things that I wanted to before having children. I could not imagine not having time to get my wild side out before settling down to be a parent. That's just the kid part. Add on trying to earn a higher degree, jump through the hoops of the Board of Professional Counselors and Therapists, relationship drama, baby daddy drama and the hurt and resentments left behind, and a tight and sometimes impossible financial situation, and it's almost unmanageable at age 26. I could not imagine taking on a responsibility like this any early than age 23, three weeks away from 24, which was the age that I started my journey with my little boys.
When I look back at myself at age 16 I was a happy teenager, taking ballet, and participating in cheerleading, and hanging out with my friends. At age 16 sex was probably about the furthest thing from my mind. This past year I attended a football game at my high school, and was shocked by the tight, short little napkins the girls were trying to pass for clothes. I may sound old while saying this, but no one, and I mean no one, would have shown so much skin at a high school football game when I was in school. For one thing, it's too freaking cold during the last half of the football season to not wear any clothing. For another, when I was in school we had this thing called a dress code, and even wearing a tank top could get you sent home. From what I remember, it was jeans and t-shirts all the way in high school. From this experience and another experience I got when I worked in a high school in 2010, things certainly have changed. That aside, we tend to blame TV shows, poor parenting skills, lack of parental control, drug and alcohol abuse, and many other reasons for teen pregnancy. All of these reasons are defiantly valid. Let's of course not hold our teens be responsible for their actions. After all, the girls of teen mom 2 didn't impregnate our little angels now did they? Sorry let my put my jaded face away, (it tends to slip out after a long day at work). The real reason that I am writing this is that I have found the cause of teen pregnancy. Yes that's right. Yes it's TV, no it's not "Sixteen and Pregnant". Drum roll please........................................................
It's Barney! This sounds totally crazy, but this past Sunday morning I was watching an old episode of Barney on, On Demand with my kids. It's one that had a similar story line to an episode I remember seeing as a child. It had Baby Bop looking at a mommy holding a baby and saying "I want a baby!!!" and then proceeding to push around her teddy bear in a stroller, singing about playing, and eating when her teddy eats, and I'm thinking, hmmm what reality is this little green and pink fruitcake singing about? I ate standing over the kitchen counter that same morning, making pancakes and responding to "more cake, more cake", over and over again, since my sons can eat an entire batch of pancakes by themselves. Not that I really mind Barney, my kids love him and if my kids are entertained that's a positive in my book. That means the dishes can be washed, and I can sweep the floor, etc. So all hail to Baby Bob, Barney, and the whole crew. Do I honestly think that this show causes teen pregnancy? Absolutely not. I do however, think that it emphasizes starting from a young age, how little we inform our children about how difficult having children really is. It's not singing and running around all happy and energetic all the time. It's about sacrifice, being an adult even when you don't want to be. It's knowing that your desire to move to the beach for the summer is out of the question. It's being exhausted, sick, and stressed out, but putting on a happy face anyway. Being a parent is an amazing and incredible experience, but it is an experience that should wait until a person can bring their child into a stable, happy, secure emotionally and financially, home. I think that as someone who accidentally did not wait for this to happen, I can say a lot about how much easier this would have been with a mature, supportive, partner, and a lack of instability in the financial situation.
When I think about my experiences as a college educated women, I can see that I have many more options for myself to help me financially support my children. I see people with limited resources and limited education or skills on a daily basis, and as it is my job to help them improve their lives, this can often seem hopeless. I couldn't imagine tackling four years of college with a baby. I am already stressing out at the potential of two to three years of a Master's program! Being totally uneducated beyond high school, and no real professional experience can put a young, single parent behind the 8 ball to start. All in all I really didn't have much point to this post, besides that I think my observation of Baby Bop influencing teen pregnancy as somewhat amusing. Sometimes you just have to do things to amuse yourself, even if no one else is laughing. On that note, I'm debating the possibility of another post tonight, but it's about bedtime, so good night readers! Remember, only three more days until Friday!
When I look back at myself at age 16 I was a happy teenager, taking ballet, and participating in cheerleading, and hanging out with my friends. At age 16 sex was probably about the furthest thing from my mind. This past year I attended a football game at my high school, and was shocked by the tight, short little napkins the girls were trying to pass for clothes. I may sound old while saying this, but no one, and I mean no one, would have shown so much skin at a high school football game when I was in school. For one thing, it's too freaking cold during the last half of the football season to not wear any clothing. For another, when I was in school we had this thing called a dress code, and even wearing a tank top could get you sent home. From what I remember, it was jeans and t-shirts all the way in high school. From this experience and another experience I got when I worked in a high school in 2010, things certainly have changed. That aside, we tend to blame TV shows, poor parenting skills, lack of parental control, drug and alcohol abuse, and many other reasons for teen pregnancy. All of these reasons are defiantly valid. Let's of course not hold our teens be responsible for their actions. After all, the girls of teen mom 2 didn't impregnate our little angels now did they? Sorry let my put my jaded face away, (it tends to slip out after a long day at work). The real reason that I am writing this is that I have found the cause of teen pregnancy. Yes that's right. Yes it's TV, no it's not "Sixteen and Pregnant". Drum roll please........................................................
It's Barney! This sounds totally crazy, but this past Sunday morning I was watching an old episode of Barney on, On Demand with my kids. It's one that had a similar story line to an episode I remember seeing as a child. It had Baby Bop looking at a mommy holding a baby and saying "I want a baby!!!" and then proceeding to push around her teddy bear in a stroller, singing about playing, and eating when her teddy eats, and I'm thinking, hmmm what reality is this little green and pink fruitcake singing about? I ate standing over the kitchen counter that same morning, making pancakes and responding to "more cake, more cake", over and over again, since my sons can eat an entire batch of pancakes by themselves. Not that I really mind Barney, my kids love him and if my kids are entertained that's a positive in my book. That means the dishes can be washed, and I can sweep the floor, etc. So all hail to Baby Bob, Barney, and the whole crew. Do I honestly think that this show causes teen pregnancy? Absolutely not. I do however, think that it emphasizes starting from a young age, how little we inform our children about how difficult having children really is. It's not singing and running around all happy and energetic all the time. It's about sacrifice, being an adult even when you don't want to be. It's knowing that your desire to move to the beach for the summer is out of the question. It's being exhausted, sick, and stressed out, but putting on a happy face anyway. Being a parent is an amazing and incredible experience, but it is an experience that should wait until a person can bring their child into a stable, happy, secure emotionally and financially, home. I think that as someone who accidentally did not wait for this to happen, I can say a lot about how much easier this would have been with a mature, supportive, partner, and a lack of instability in the financial situation.
When I think about my experiences as a college educated women, I can see that I have many more options for myself to help me financially support my children. I see people with limited resources and limited education or skills on a daily basis, and as it is my job to help them improve their lives, this can often seem hopeless. I couldn't imagine tackling four years of college with a baby. I am already stressing out at the potential of two to three years of a Master's program! Being totally uneducated beyond high school, and no real professional experience can put a young, single parent behind the 8 ball to start. All in all I really didn't have much point to this post, besides that I think my observation of Baby Bop influencing teen pregnancy as somewhat amusing. Sometimes you just have to do things to amuse yourself, even if no one else is laughing. On that note, I'm debating the possibility of another post tonight, but it's about bedtime, so good night readers! Remember, only three more days until Friday!
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
To Plop or Not to Plop?
As I sit here typing this I can hear the sounds of "MOM!!! , MOM!!!, MOM!!!!," and I have the urge to yell "shut the eff up", out of my open window. No, I am not saying yell that at my children, because my children have been in bed for over an hour. I am talking about the five year old, screaming down the street to her mother, who is apparently ignoring her as well. I feel bad for the kid, but I really don't want to hear the word "mom", come out of anyone under the age of 25's mouth after my two little monstrosities that I gave birth to are soundly tucked between the sheets for the evening. I also have the urge to go down the street and ask the mom why her five year old is screaming outside my window at 9 pm on a school night, or any night for that matter. I am not claiming to be the best parent ever, but Alex and Daniel will sure as hell never be outside, on a street, and screaming "MOM!!!" over and again at 9 pm at age five. For that matter they will know better than to disturb the whole neighborhood period. This will just you know, be forgotten when they are partaking in the debauchery that is being a college student in 16 or so years. As long as they don't knock anyone up, use drugs, get arrested, or drink enough alcohol that I have to drive or fly to wherever they are located and pay for alcohol citations or get them out of the hospital, we're good. After all, although I hope my children don't do the same stupid things that their father and I did in college, it's college and freedom from mom and dad for the first time in their lives, and I fully know that a product of two Frostburg State University graduates will not disappoint. Anyway, I got a little distracted thinking of my two little guys being college students and I think I got a little green at the thought, but my point to this was, I want to go ask the mom why she's not bathing her child, putting her in bed, reading her stories, you know, doing mom things. Sadly enough I don't have to ask why. I already know why. It's a shame that some women allow men and substances to come before their kids.
That however, was not the point of this story. I have not written in awhile. This is in part to not really having anything to say, and also being too tired to come up with anything that anyone would want to read. My first several posts were amusing and I have been struggling to find amusing things to write about, since most of my life exists at my job, which is something that I cannot discuss in this blog, even though it does have some amusing moments. I can promise some good material in the near future, as my "baby daddy" and I are taking our boys on a vacation to visit family and friends in North Carolina next month, and needless to say I am sure that there will be some interesting stories that will come out of spending 17 hours total in an enclosed space with two, two year old boys for that long. Hopefully no one gets too carried away and skips North Carolina and heads to the everglades to feed one or more of the occupants of the car to an alligator! Long drive aside, I am hoping for a nice visit with loved ones, and a fun visit to the Aquarium and the Children's Museum, maybe even the Serpentarium, provided mommy decides her dreams won't be too scary after visiting a bunch of deadly snakes and other reptiles. There will be more to come on this topic. I would like to continue this post with my first experience with a seriously bloody nose due to injury with Daniel.
My sons love bath time. I think that they would live in the bathtub, provided there was a TV playing a nonstop, alternating roll of Thomas and Friends, Barney, Peter Rabbit, and The Pajanimals, and a never ending supply of fruit snacks and "appa juic", as they put it. Their newest trick is quite possibly one of the things that pushes me from slightly annoyed to just straight pissed. They stand up and then throw their bodies back down into the water, which sends a tidal wave of water over the edge of the tub and onto the floor. You know, the floor that not only is a pain to clean up, but is also not owned by me, so if it gets warped and water damaged, I have to pay to replace it. So, as you may imagine, I am picky about the floor. It's also unsafe and could and did as Daniel discovered, cause a pretty substantial injury. They also like to take mouthfuls of bath water (YUCK!) and spit it all over my floor. Still irritating, but not quite as maddening as the tidal wave that comes over the edge when they plop down in the water. I warned Daniel about 10 times to stop on this past Sunday evening. As I reached over to drain the water as a consequence for plopping from both kids, he plopped down and hit his nose and face on the edge of the tub. His bottom teeth went into his lip and is still swollen two days later. His poor little nose began to bleed everywhere. It was on my shirt, on the floor in little puddles, all over him, and he was freaked out as was I. I placed a call to a nurse friend three times and then called my mom, who so helpfully told me to call my nurse friend, who wasn't answering.
My friend called me back about this time and calmed me down. I am pretty good with an injured child as far as staying calm, but the amount of blood pouring from my child's face was seriously getting me upset. To make the story shorter Daniel was fine. He is still a little swollen in the nose, but his swollen lip is starting to subside a bit. During Monday's bath he was extremely cautious. I thought maybe he learned. What do my readers think? If you said he did not learn, you would be correct. Tonight he was right back to plopping down, as if his nose still isn't swollen, and he wasn't saying "mommy, my mouth hurt", just yesterday. (I was sad he was in pain, even if it was by his own doing, but that just sounded so cute coming out of his mouth). Apparently the lasting effects were not all that memorable, and a lesson was not learned. He was right back to all his normal shenanigans tonight, spitting milk at dinner and throwing his plate at me when I took that milk, saying "bye mommy", and walking out the front door, when I'm only wearing a pair of boy short undies and a tank top with no bra, and making me chase him through the neighborhood. (I may eventually learn to keep full pants and a bra on at home), and of course plopping in the tub. I seem to have hit a difficult patch with my boys, especially Daniel at this point, but at the end of the day having them tell me they love me and snuggling with me at the end of the night makes all the hard work worth it to have the unconditional love of my boys. (Conditional as Aunt Paula puts it when they only want to snuggle with you if you have food or drinks in your hand). (Apparently this "terrible two" stuff only gets worse at three)???? Until next time.
Erica
That however, was not the point of this story. I have not written in awhile. This is in part to not really having anything to say, and also being too tired to come up with anything that anyone would want to read. My first several posts were amusing and I have been struggling to find amusing things to write about, since most of my life exists at my job, which is something that I cannot discuss in this blog, even though it does have some amusing moments. I can promise some good material in the near future, as my "baby daddy" and I are taking our boys on a vacation to visit family and friends in North Carolina next month, and needless to say I am sure that there will be some interesting stories that will come out of spending 17 hours total in an enclosed space with two, two year old boys for that long. Hopefully no one gets too carried away and skips North Carolina and heads to the everglades to feed one or more of the occupants of the car to an alligator! Long drive aside, I am hoping for a nice visit with loved ones, and a fun visit to the Aquarium and the Children's Museum, maybe even the Serpentarium, provided mommy decides her dreams won't be too scary after visiting a bunch of deadly snakes and other reptiles. There will be more to come on this topic. I would like to continue this post with my first experience with a seriously bloody nose due to injury with Daniel.
My sons love bath time. I think that they would live in the bathtub, provided there was a TV playing a nonstop, alternating roll of Thomas and Friends, Barney, Peter Rabbit, and The Pajanimals, and a never ending supply of fruit snacks and "appa juic", as they put it. Their newest trick is quite possibly one of the things that pushes me from slightly annoyed to just straight pissed. They stand up and then throw their bodies back down into the water, which sends a tidal wave of water over the edge of the tub and onto the floor. You know, the floor that not only is a pain to clean up, but is also not owned by me, so if it gets warped and water damaged, I have to pay to replace it. So, as you may imagine, I am picky about the floor. It's also unsafe and could and did as Daniel discovered, cause a pretty substantial injury. They also like to take mouthfuls of bath water (YUCK!) and spit it all over my floor. Still irritating, but not quite as maddening as the tidal wave that comes over the edge when they plop down in the water. I warned Daniel about 10 times to stop on this past Sunday evening. As I reached over to drain the water as a consequence for plopping from both kids, he plopped down and hit his nose and face on the edge of the tub. His bottom teeth went into his lip and is still swollen two days later. His poor little nose began to bleed everywhere. It was on my shirt, on the floor in little puddles, all over him, and he was freaked out as was I. I placed a call to a nurse friend three times and then called my mom, who so helpfully told me to call my nurse friend, who wasn't answering.
My friend called me back about this time and calmed me down. I am pretty good with an injured child as far as staying calm, but the amount of blood pouring from my child's face was seriously getting me upset. To make the story shorter Daniel was fine. He is still a little swollen in the nose, but his swollen lip is starting to subside a bit. During Monday's bath he was extremely cautious. I thought maybe he learned. What do my readers think? If you said he did not learn, you would be correct. Tonight he was right back to plopping down, as if his nose still isn't swollen, and he wasn't saying "mommy, my mouth hurt", just yesterday. (I was sad he was in pain, even if it was by his own doing, but that just sounded so cute coming out of his mouth). Apparently the lasting effects were not all that memorable, and a lesson was not learned. He was right back to all his normal shenanigans tonight, spitting milk at dinner and throwing his plate at me when I took that milk, saying "bye mommy", and walking out the front door, when I'm only wearing a pair of boy short undies and a tank top with no bra, and making me chase him through the neighborhood. (I may eventually learn to keep full pants and a bra on at home), and of course plopping in the tub. I seem to have hit a difficult patch with my boys, especially Daniel at this point, but at the end of the day having them tell me they love me and snuggling with me at the end of the night makes all the hard work worth it to have the unconditional love of my boys. (Conditional as Aunt Paula puts it when they only want to snuggle with you if you have food or drinks in your hand). (Apparently this "terrible two" stuff only gets worse at three)???? Until next time.
Erica
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Nightmare on My Street
This has been a nightmare of an afternoon with my boys. We started off doing pretty well this morning. Breakfast of eggs and fruit, baths, and getting dressed for church. We went to church and both of my kids were pretty sweet and well behaved. Now I suppose I should just be grateful for their fairly decent behavior in public, but man I had no idea what was in store for me this evening. Both boys fell asleep on the car ride home from church and as a bonus I was able to get both kids in bed from the car without waking them up. Even better. Then, better yet, I was able to get a three hour nap myself, as this was how long they napped. I figured that they would be pretty well rested and ready for a nice relaxing evening at home. OMG I was wrong. The following is a real and true account of the shit storm (this is a fairly literal statement, so if you are sensitive to slightly inappropriate and graphic stories turn back now), that hit my home this evening. In the course of the evening I had to call my mom twice to keep my cool, carry on, and not burst into tears, instead of picking up the pieces and cleaning up the mess. I try hard to deal with my kids on my own, but occasionally you gotta pull the red "help me" card and call someone. Here is an account of the events leading up to the red card pulling:
At around 5 pm this evening I heard my boys waking up from their extended nap and giggling to each other. I smiled, thinking it was a good sign that they slept three hours and woke up happy. I got myself out of bed and walked down the hall to their room. As I opened the door I got hit right in the face with...a poopy pull up...No just kidding, actually what I got hit with was a preverbal slap in the face with an awful smell. If you've read any of my previous blog posts you may have an idea of where this is going. I walked into poop smeared from one end of the crib to the other. Alex's brand new sneakers that I bought him yesterday were covered in poop, which mad me so angry I could barely see straight. Both kids, the cloth bed rails were covered, all the bedding was covered in Alex's bed. I stripped his bed down, put the dirty stuff in the wash, resisted the urge to cry, cleaned up both kids and prepared to go cook dinner. I was sick this whole time, some sort of sinus thing that has led to me being dizzy all day, to the point where I ran into a wall when I got out of bed this morning. This being the case, I decided leftover pizza it would be for dinner and had gotten it out of the refrigerator and put it on the counter before I walked into the kids room. As I was stripping the beds Daniel and Alex pulled the pizza down on the floor and Alex helped himself. I had started to eat a piece right before I walked into my son's room and had put it on the counter next to the other pieces. Daniel chose that piece. I tried to give him a new piece of his own and get them in their booster chairs, but that was apparently not freaking good enough, and Daniel chucked the new piece of pizza at me in favor of eating the one that I had started. In the grand scheme of things did it really matter? No, not at all, but I was not feeling well, therefore still tired, had just had to clean a bed and two kids up from their earlier finger painting efforts. I guess I may have been feeling just a wee bit possessive over my pizza and pissed off that I spent money on new sneakers for them to be covered in feces the next day. Because I was upset do you think that we could have just ended this bad note and moved on to more positive happy moments? No, because that isn't what happens when you have kids. I have to be in tears before Alex and Daniel will stop laughing at me when I am trying to provide discipline or punishment for negative behavior. Time out is only marginally effective. This was when the first phone call to my mom occurred.
After I got off the phone I was feeling a tiny bit better and more calm. At this point I was trying to load the dirty bedding into the washer and I suddenly heard the front screen door slam and the sounds of my sons laughter and screams of "hi, hi, hi" coming from the outside of the house. Not exactly what you want to hear when your inside your house and they are outside your house. I put the sheets down and ran outside to find them playing on the lawn mower and saying hi to the little boy that lives across the street. I drug them kicking and screaming into the house (well I wanted to drag them), instead I took their hands and led them inside. I explained that they would not be playing outside due to the wet grass from the rain the night before, and the poop smearing incident from naptime. They screamed, they yelled, they got mad, but they moved on as kids do. I put a movie on since I was still feeling sick and we sat down to watch it. Alex got up to play in his ball pit (we have a three room play area and ball bit with 200 balls in our living room, thanks granny!). I did not think anything of this, as they like this toy a lot and it is one of their favorite places to play. All the while Daniel (who was the culprit in the previous incident, I could tell by the evidence he left behind on his bottom when I cleaned him up), was sitting on my lap watching "Bolt". Which is an incredibly cute movie btw. I heard Alex saying "poop, poop". All I could think about at this time was "please no, wtf, no, no, no, please god no". (You probably shouldn't use the acronym for a curse word when praying, but I was a little beyond that). I put Daniel down, walked over to the pit, and low and behold what did I find? You got it. Mushy, smelly, runny, poop all over the inside of the ball pit and all over the balls. This was when the second phone call happened. My mom talked me through it and talked to me as I was wiping down the balls and the fabric inside the ball pit. Daniel decided to take it one step further and start pulling multiple wipes out of the package and throwing them around. After spending $130 on baby supplies and household supplies last week and another $95 last week on summer clothes, than almost another $130 on supplies between Friday and Saturday of this weekend, I was feeling pretty bitter about wasting things at this point. I took the wipes from him and Alex actually began to help me clean the balls up. I was totally about this until he started to try to eat the wipes covered in poo. I guess it's sorta like a chocolate covered pretzel minus the pretzel?
I was talking to my mom all the while and started to get awful stomach cramps myself. I ran to the bathroom to take care of my own personal issues and of course my children followed me. Daniel started to take his pull up off and I quickly noticed that he pooped yet again. I asked Alex to bring me a wipe, which he actually did. I guess he figured it was time to start kissing up! My kids actually can be pretty good helpers when they choose to be. I cleaned up Daniel while sitting on the toilet myself. Alex started to push me and yelled at me to "get off". He did this several times, and I told him that I could not move. He continued to push for another minute or two before finally grabbing his little man part and peeing on the floor in front of me, all over my shorts, (which I had removed for more mobility while changing a dirty pull up and meeting my own needs), as well as all over my feet. I told my mom I had to go. (Yes my poor mother went to the bathroom with the boys and I via the phone). She told me to get off the phone and take care of the situation at hand, which I did. She later sent me three emails that report that "feces fun" as they put it is normal around potty training time. (WTF???). I'm glad this may be normal, but eww, it's gross, it's messy, and defiantly not something I read about in "What to Expect When You're Expecting". (Maybe they cover that in the Toddler Years What to Expect. I wouldn't know since I didn't buy it). I put both kids in the bath tub at this time, which was probably what they wanted in the first place. This seemed to settle them down.
We then journeyed out to the kitchen to finally eat dinner, which consisted of grapes and cold pizza. The desire and gumption to heat up the pizza was totally gone at this point. My kids love cold pizza, so this worked well for all of us. The boys ate their food, while yelling "stink bug, STINK BUG", at the stink bug sitting in the corner of the kitchen. (Which was actually a piece of food they threw on the floor at an earlier time). I ignored this and washed the dishes while they ate. I think that tonight's behavior would have been hard and frustrating either way, but probably would not have brought me to tears if I was feeling a little bit better. The night was almost over at this point and I put the sheets back on Alex's bed and discovered a puddle of pee drying into Daniel's sheet when I moved his blankets. I stripped his bed, and put a clean sheet on it, because at that point I had no energy left to get mad and what else can you do? I then brushed their teeth and put them in bed, where they proceeded to scream and cry and talk to each other for another thirty five minutes. I was typing this and praying that I won't walk into a mess in the morning. I guess that's the day in the life of a single parent with two kids. At the end of the day I still love my babies, but I did send an Facebook post to their godmother offering to gift her my kids. She responded with, "you would miss them by tomorrow". She's right I would. I will already hate having to leave them to go to work in the morning. I know it. I think on that note I am going to turn in as it is late. Good night readers!
Erica
At around 5 pm this evening I heard my boys waking up from their extended nap and giggling to each other. I smiled, thinking it was a good sign that they slept three hours and woke up happy. I got myself out of bed and walked down the hall to their room. As I opened the door I got hit right in the face with...a poopy pull up...No just kidding, actually what I got hit with was a preverbal slap in the face with an awful smell. If you've read any of my previous blog posts you may have an idea of where this is going. I walked into poop smeared from one end of the crib to the other. Alex's brand new sneakers that I bought him yesterday were covered in poop, which mad me so angry I could barely see straight. Both kids, the cloth bed rails were covered, all the bedding was covered in Alex's bed. I stripped his bed down, put the dirty stuff in the wash, resisted the urge to cry, cleaned up both kids and prepared to go cook dinner. I was sick this whole time, some sort of sinus thing that has led to me being dizzy all day, to the point where I ran into a wall when I got out of bed this morning. This being the case, I decided leftover pizza it would be for dinner and had gotten it out of the refrigerator and put it on the counter before I walked into the kids room. As I was stripping the beds Daniel and Alex pulled the pizza down on the floor and Alex helped himself. I had started to eat a piece right before I walked into my son's room and had put it on the counter next to the other pieces. Daniel chose that piece. I tried to give him a new piece of his own and get them in their booster chairs, but that was apparently not freaking good enough, and Daniel chucked the new piece of pizza at me in favor of eating the one that I had started. In the grand scheme of things did it really matter? No, not at all, but I was not feeling well, therefore still tired, had just had to clean a bed and two kids up from their earlier finger painting efforts. I guess I may have been feeling just a wee bit possessive over my pizza and pissed off that I spent money on new sneakers for them to be covered in feces the next day. Because I was upset do you think that we could have just ended this bad note and moved on to more positive happy moments? No, because that isn't what happens when you have kids. I have to be in tears before Alex and Daniel will stop laughing at me when I am trying to provide discipline or punishment for negative behavior. Time out is only marginally effective. This was when the first phone call to my mom occurred.
After I got off the phone I was feeling a tiny bit better and more calm. At this point I was trying to load the dirty bedding into the washer and I suddenly heard the front screen door slam and the sounds of my sons laughter and screams of "hi, hi, hi" coming from the outside of the house. Not exactly what you want to hear when your inside your house and they are outside your house. I put the sheets down and ran outside to find them playing on the lawn mower and saying hi to the little boy that lives across the street. I drug them kicking and screaming into the house (well I wanted to drag them), instead I took their hands and led them inside. I explained that they would not be playing outside due to the wet grass from the rain the night before, and the poop smearing incident from naptime. They screamed, they yelled, they got mad, but they moved on as kids do. I put a movie on since I was still feeling sick and we sat down to watch it. Alex got up to play in his ball pit (we have a three room play area and ball bit with 200 balls in our living room, thanks granny!). I did not think anything of this, as they like this toy a lot and it is one of their favorite places to play. All the while Daniel (who was the culprit in the previous incident, I could tell by the evidence he left behind on his bottom when I cleaned him up), was sitting on my lap watching "Bolt". Which is an incredibly cute movie btw. I heard Alex saying "poop, poop". All I could think about at this time was "please no, wtf, no, no, no, please god no". (You probably shouldn't use the acronym for a curse word when praying, but I was a little beyond that). I put Daniel down, walked over to the pit, and low and behold what did I find? You got it. Mushy, smelly, runny, poop all over the inside of the ball pit and all over the balls. This was when the second phone call happened. My mom talked me through it and talked to me as I was wiping down the balls and the fabric inside the ball pit. Daniel decided to take it one step further and start pulling multiple wipes out of the package and throwing them around. After spending $130 on baby supplies and household supplies last week and another $95 last week on summer clothes, than almost another $130 on supplies between Friday and Saturday of this weekend, I was feeling pretty bitter about wasting things at this point. I took the wipes from him and Alex actually began to help me clean the balls up. I was totally about this until he started to try to eat the wipes covered in poo. I guess it's sorta like a chocolate covered pretzel minus the pretzel?
I was talking to my mom all the while and started to get awful stomach cramps myself. I ran to the bathroom to take care of my own personal issues and of course my children followed me. Daniel started to take his pull up off and I quickly noticed that he pooped yet again. I asked Alex to bring me a wipe, which he actually did. I guess he figured it was time to start kissing up! My kids actually can be pretty good helpers when they choose to be. I cleaned up Daniel while sitting on the toilet myself. Alex started to push me and yelled at me to "get off". He did this several times, and I told him that I could not move. He continued to push for another minute or two before finally grabbing his little man part and peeing on the floor in front of me, all over my shorts, (which I had removed for more mobility while changing a dirty pull up and meeting my own needs), as well as all over my feet. I told my mom I had to go. (Yes my poor mother went to the bathroom with the boys and I via the phone). She told me to get off the phone and take care of the situation at hand, which I did. She later sent me three emails that report that "feces fun" as they put it is normal around potty training time. (WTF???). I'm glad this may be normal, but eww, it's gross, it's messy, and defiantly not something I read about in "What to Expect When You're Expecting". (Maybe they cover that in the Toddler Years What to Expect. I wouldn't know since I didn't buy it). I put both kids in the bath tub at this time, which was probably what they wanted in the first place. This seemed to settle them down.
We then journeyed out to the kitchen to finally eat dinner, which consisted of grapes and cold pizza. The desire and gumption to heat up the pizza was totally gone at this point. My kids love cold pizza, so this worked well for all of us. The boys ate their food, while yelling "stink bug, STINK BUG", at the stink bug sitting in the corner of the kitchen. (Which was actually a piece of food they threw on the floor at an earlier time). I ignored this and washed the dishes while they ate. I think that tonight's behavior would have been hard and frustrating either way, but probably would not have brought me to tears if I was feeling a little bit better. The night was almost over at this point and I put the sheets back on Alex's bed and discovered a puddle of pee drying into Daniel's sheet when I moved his blankets. I stripped his bed, and put a clean sheet on it, because at that point I had no energy left to get mad and what else can you do? I then brushed their teeth and put them in bed, where they proceeded to scream and cry and talk to each other for another thirty five minutes. I was typing this and praying that I won't walk into a mess in the morning. I guess that's the day in the life of a single parent with two kids. At the end of the day I still love my babies, but I did send an Facebook post to their godmother offering to gift her my kids. She responded with, "you would miss them by tomorrow". She's right I would. I will already hate having to leave them to go to work in the morning. I know it. I think on that note I am going to turn in as it is late. Good night readers!
Erica
Thursday, May 16, 2013
What do Moo Cows and Spilled Nail Polish have in Common?
This has been one of the best days I have had in a while. What made today so great? I will tell you. I took a mental health day from work (which was very much needed and help remove my pity party hat), took my boys to daycare a little late, so we had a nice relaxing morning, rather then the fluster cluck (stolen from a co worker, our office word for "cluster fuck"), that we normally encounter. After losing my keys and being later for work than normal the day before, I can't express how nice it was to take my time to cuddle my little men before getting them dressed for the day. After taking the boys to daycare, I went home, took a shower, caught up with an old friend via Facebook chat, and went about running my errands for the day. Because I was feeling well rested for once, rather than so tired I can barely see straight, I picked up the boys from daycare and we went to the playground near our house for about two hours and my babies made a few new friends and played down in the creek behind the playground equipment. It really hit me what big boys my sons are growing up to be. After scaring the crap out of me, both babies were able to scale the curved ladders that go up to the slides and tunnels on the playground equipment. Normally we take the stairs, but apparently we're too big to take the nice, safe way now! After playing on the playground, as I mentioned we walked down to the creek and I told Alex and Daniel they could play in the creek if they took off their shoes and socks. Daniel dutifully sat down, stripped off his shoes and socks and handed them to me. Alex of course does not do things the simple way. He gave me his shit-eating grin and to my, to be honest not surprise, took his left shoe off and chucked it into the creek, and cracked up as I chased the shoe down the creek (there was just enough current to carry off a tiny, size 5 sneaker). After retrieving the shoe, I sat next to my boys as they kicked and splashed with their feet in the water. Alex, once again my trouble maker, figured out that he could walk to the top of the incline next to the creek bank and slide himself down into the water. He's my child that always has to take it a step further. Daniel was sitting at my side, leaning on me at this point. As the cute little shorts (my favorite pair of course), were slowly turning from a dark blue denim to a dark, muddy, wet mess, Daniel decided it would be a good idea to join in. I allowed this to continue because I'm a sucker for their cute little laughter (except when they're in the process of flooding my bathroom) and shorts can be washed. I eventually was able to pull them away from the water and back to the playground. After about thirty seconds Daniel told me he wanted to go to the car. After loading them up, we decided to go down the street to get some ice cream at this farm that makes their own ice cream and has a petting zoo with farm animals and a wooden playground for kids. On a side note I want to put it out there, I normally do not let my kids have a lot of junk food, especially not before dinner. I was feeling generous, well rested, and happy tonight I suppose.
At the ice cream shop we ordered our food and once again Daniel was sitting quietly in a chair waiting for his ice cream. Also once again, Alex was running around like the crazy child he is. The teenager behind the counter commented on how cute they were. I may not have sounded as funny as I intended because she didn't laugh when I said "you don't have to take them home". I meant it as a joke of course, because I do love my little boys and I may be biased, but I think they are the most amazing children ever born. Yes I am one of those mother's, My children's shit doesn't stink (actually it does quite a bit), everything they do is amazing and wonderful, except when they are in full on destruction mode. I call that being a mom. Yes, I can still see the frustrating things they do, as all children do, like when Alex got out of the bathtub last night and hung his hose over my pillow and urinated on it, or when Daniel took his pants off and defecated in the ball pit, or when Alex threw pork fried rice all over the kitchen and I busted ass in it (ahh the good times!), or certainly not last or least the other night when Alex locked himself and my keys in the car, but for the most part my babies do no wrong in my eyes. I think it's ok for a mother to be like this, as long as she doesn't brush over the areas that need improvement and lead to a lifetime of not taking responsibility for personal actions and self-destruction, because a child is raised to be so sensitive to the world around them, that they can't handle any criticism or hard times. Hard times are part of life and it is a parent's job to equip their children for these times. Ok I'll get off my soap box now and get back to my story. As for the teenager, she shall see one day. In this area, probably sooner rather than later, although I would hope better for her.
Anyway, after we got our ice cream and sat outside on the playground and ate it, we headed over to the animals to say hi before leaving. We started at the miniature horses, or as Daniel calls them "the neigh neighs", and I taught them how to hold their hands out flat to feed the horses grass. On a side note, the horses kind of reminded me of Alex and Daniel when their is food in front of them and only one eating utensil and plate is present. By this I mean that the horses were trying to knock each other out of the way to get the handful of grass. I can't say for sure, but they may have picked this up from observing Alex and Daniel five minutes earlier, pushing each other out of the way to get a bite of ice cream off the spoon, as if we didn't have more then enough for three people. After discovering how much the "horseys", Alex's term for horses, liked the grass, he ran over to the baby cows and stuck a handful of grass into the feeding bins, and also picked the food out of the bins and was trying to feed the calves the way we did the horses. Very cute, but he jumped about ten feet in the air, as one of the calves started to lick him with it's tongue. He backed up a bit, and so the calf started to lick my arm, as I was petting him and was the closest thing to lick I suppose. Alex became immediately upset by this, and stepped in to save his mommy from being raped by a cow tongue. "NO, NO, NO, mommy, mommy, while waving his little arms at the calf". Glad to know I can count on him in a time of need! In the process of "saving mommy", the calf calmly flicked it's tail and licked Alex. This time Alex laughed, but said "ow". If you have never had the opportunity to be slobbered on by a cow, they have extremely rough tongues and this one was no exception. What did Alex do? "No bad moo cow!", then he mooed at the calf. So funny and cute.
After this we went to visit the goats and totally unprovoked Daniel says, "bad goat". They then saw a little bunny rabbit. One thing about my kids. They love rabbits and have repeatedly told me they want a rabbit. The watch Peter Rabbit at daycare, and so every rabbit they see is "Peter Rabbit". Seeing this rabbit immediately distracted them from the goats and they bent down and were saying "hi Peter Rabbit"! Over and over. My kids are so sweet and cute. I then announced that it was time to wash our hands and go home for dinner. This did not sit well. Let me tell you. Have you ever tried to wrench two, two year olds away from a petting zoo by yourself? It's an experience best avoided. After I finally got them away from the animals (after they went around and said good night and good bye to every animal there), we headed towards the car. We had to pass the building where they serve the ice cream on the way to the car. This induced another mini meltdown as I refused to take my kids inside for round two of ice cream. I finally was able to haul them to the car and we made our way home.
Once at home, I ran the bath water for them, as they said they wanted bath time before dinner. They have a new thing where they want to be in and out, and in and out, of the bath tub. Flooding the floor more with each rotation of in and out. Due to this behavior a new rule was created. If you get out once you get a reminder to say in or else, and if you get out again your done, bath time is over. They have a hard time with this and the past two nights have been spent with them being removed from the tub early and pitching a fit over being taken out of the tub. I was able to pretty quickly squash tonight's tantrum because I had soup on the stove. I got a huge family sized can thinking there would be leftovers for my lunch tomorrow. Did that happen? Nope. Did I even eat any of it? Nope again. My two babies ate an entire huge can of soup, all by themselves, every last noodle, and every bite of chicken. Another reminder of how big they are getting. These are my babies that were 4 lbs. and some change when they were born, and wouldn't gain weight at first because they refused to eat and just wanted to sleep all the time. I seem to be getting more and more reminders on a daily basis of how quickly my sons are going to grow up.
After dinner, I got them cleaned up and down from their booster chairs, forgetting the screen door was open. They immediately ran out of the door and down the back deck steps. Not normally a big deal, but I happened to be walking around in a big t shirt, wearing no pants. Thanks to a new found ability to think on my feet, and not be forced to streak through my back yard with no pants on, I grabbed the container of bubbles and bribed them back on the deck with bubbles. This worked for about five minutes and they tried to take off again. Finally forced to chase them down pantless, (thankfully they didn't make it out of my yard), they were absolutely furious when I brought them inside and locked the door. Glass door included. See my sons have this solution to the issue of screens in doors. When a screen is blocking the exit, just tear the screen out. My front door had a screen door as well as the main door. Notice I said had, not has. It was a victim of tornados Alex and Daniel. Hurricanes Alex and Daniel if there happens to be water involved. Why let a flimsy piece of screen block the entrance to the world if you want to escape is the take my kids seem to have on screen doors. At this point I wrangled Alex to the bathroom to brush his teeth. I then went to search for Daniel, who was hidden in the bookcase cabinet in his room. I smelled something before I saw it. No, not poop in case you were thinking this is another poop story. Not poop, but white nail polish spilled all over the inside of the cabinet, and my son covered in nail polish. I swear I got a buzz from the smell the second I opened the cabinet door. Nail polish stinks normally and has a strong smell. It's even more powerful when it's quite literally poured out of the bottle. At that, I decided that we had a really good day, and it was time to quit before I got any further behind. I picked Daniel up and stuck him in bed, despite the protests from him. I then got Alex and resisted the cries of "noooooooo, mommy's bed", and put him in his bed. I then decided to sit down and write.
The end of this story may seem a little stressful, but I still consider it a pretty awesome day, as I got to spend extra time with my boys and get things accomplished. I think the being off work thing makes it impossible to not have a good day. I have been scheming all day how I could possibly afford to stay home with my boys and be a stay at home mommy for the most part, and send Alex and Daniel to daycare maybe twice a week so I could get things accomplished. I could defiantly have days like this every day. Alex and Daniel are growing up way too fast to be away from them every day, all day. Do I know that it is totally impractical to think this way? Why yes, but a girl can dream right? Sigh. Oh well, maybe eventually. Read my blog and make it famous, (as if it were that good), and maybe I can. Well off to the shower and bed for this girl!
Over and Out
Erica
At the ice cream shop we ordered our food and once again Daniel was sitting quietly in a chair waiting for his ice cream. Also once again, Alex was running around like the crazy child he is. The teenager behind the counter commented on how cute they were. I may not have sounded as funny as I intended because she didn't laugh when I said "you don't have to take them home". I meant it as a joke of course, because I do love my little boys and I may be biased, but I think they are the most amazing children ever born. Yes I am one of those mother's, My children's shit doesn't stink (actually it does quite a bit), everything they do is amazing and wonderful, except when they are in full on destruction mode. I call that being a mom. Yes, I can still see the frustrating things they do, as all children do, like when Alex got out of the bathtub last night and hung his hose over my pillow and urinated on it, or when Daniel took his pants off and defecated in the ball pit, or when Alex threw pork fried rice all over the kitchen and I busted ass in it (ahh the good times!), or certainly not last or least the other night when Alex locked himself and my keys in the car, but for the most part my babies do no wrong in my eyes. I think it's ok for a mother to be like this, as long as she doesn't brush over the areas that need improvement and lead to a lifetime of not taking responsibility for personal actions and self-destruction, because a child is raised to be so sensitive to the world around them, that they can't handle any criticism or hard times. Hard times are part of life and it is a parent's job to equip their children for these times. Ok I'll get off my soap box now and get back to my story. As for the teenager, she shall see one day. In this area, probably sooner rather than later, although I would hope better for her.
Anyway, after we got our ice cream and sat outside on the playground and ate it, we headed over to the animals to say hi before leaving. We started at the miniature horses, or as Daniel calls them "the neigh neighs", and I taught them how to hold their hands out flat to feed the horses grass. On a side note, the horses kind of reminded me of Alex and Daniel when their is food in front of them and only one eating utensil and plate is present. By this I mean that the horses were trying to knock each other out of the way to get the handful of grass. I can't say for sure, but they may have picked this up from observing Alex and Daniel five minutes earlier, pushing each other out of the way to get a bite of ice cream off the spoon, as if we didn't have more then enough for three people. After discovering how much the "horseys", Alex's term for horses, liked the grass, he ran over to the baby cows and stuck a handful of grass into the feeding bins, and also picked the food out of the bins and was trying to feed the calves the way we did the horses. Very cute, but he jumped about ten feet in the air, as one of the calves started to lick him with it's tongue. He backed up a bit, and so the calf started to lick my arm, as I was petting him and was the closest thing to lick I suppose. Alex became immediately upset by this, and stepped in to save his mommy from being raped by a cow tongue. "NO, NO, NO, mommy, mommy, while waving his little arms at the calf". Glad to know I can count on him in a time of need! In the process of "saving mommy", the calf calmly flicked it's tail and licked Alex. This time Alex laughed, but said "ow". If you have never had the opportunity to be slobbered on by a cow, they have extremely rough tongues and this one was no exception. What did Alex do? "No bad moo cow!", then he mooed at the calf. So funny and cute.
After this we went to visit the goats and totally unprovoked Daniel says, "bad goat". They then saw a little bunny rabbit. One thing about my kids. They love rabbits and have repeatedly told me they want a rabbit. The watch Peter Rabbit at daycare, and so every rabbit they see is "Peter Rabbit". Seeing this rabbit immediately distracted them from the goats and they bent down and were saying "hi Peter Rabbit"! Over and over. My kids are so sweet and cute. I then announced that it was time to wash our hands and go home for dinner. This did not sit well. Let me tell you. Have you ever tried to wrench two, two year olds away from a petting zoo by yourself? It's an experience best avoided. After I finally got them away from the animals (after they went around and said good night and good bye to every animal there), we headed towards the car. We had to pass the building where they serve the ice cream on the way to the car. This induced another mini meltdown as I refused to take my kids inside for round two of ice cream. I finally was able to haul them to the car and we made our way home.
Once at home, I ran the bath water for them, as they said they wanted bath time before dinner. They have a new thing where they want to be in and out, and in and out, of the bath tub. Flooding the floor more with each rotation of in and out. Due to this behavior a new rule was created. If you get out once you get a reminder to say in or else, and if you get out again your done, bath time is over. They have a hard time with this and the past two nights have been spent with them being removed from the tub early and pitching a fit over being taken out of the tub. I was able to pretty quickly squash tonight's tantrum because I had soup on the stove. I got a huge family sized can thinking there would be leftovers for my lunch tomorrow. Did that happen? Nope. Did I even eat any of it? Nope again. My two babies ate an entire huge can of soup, all by themselves, every last noodle, and every bite of chicken. Another reminder of how big they are getting. These are my babies that were 4 lbs. and some change when they were born, and wouldn't gain weight at first because they refused to eat and just wanted to sleep all the time. I seem to be getting more and more reminders on a daily basis of how quickly my sons are going to grow up.
After dinner, I got them cleaned up and down from their booster chairs, forgetting the screen door was open. They immediately ran out of the door and down the back deck steps. Not normally a big deal, but I happened to be walking around in a big t shirt, wearing no pants. Thanks to a new found ability to think on my feet, and not be forced to streak through my back yard with no pants on, I grabbed the container of bubbles and bribed them back on the deck with bubbles. This worked for about five minutes and they tried to take off again. Finally forced to chase them down pantless, (thankfully they didn't make it out of my yard), they were absolutely furious when I brought them inside and locked the door. Glass door included. See my sons have this solution to the issue of screens in doors. When a screen is blocking the exit, just tear the screen out. My front door had a screen door as well as the main door. Notice I said had, not has. It was a victim of tornados Alex and Daniel. Hurricanes Alex and Daniel if there happens to be water involved. Why let a flimsy piece of screen block the entrance to the world if you want to escape is the take my kids seem to have on screen doors. At this point I wrangled Alex to the bathroom to brush his teeth. I then went to search for Daniel, who was hidden in the bookcase cabinet in his room. I smelled something before I saw it. No, not poop in case you were thinking this is another poop story. Not poop, but white nail polish spilled all over the inside of the cabinet, and my son covered in nail polish. I swear I got a buzz from the smell the second I opened the cabinet door. Nail polish stinks normally and has a strong smell. It's even more powerful when it's quite literally poured out of the bottle. At that, I decided that we had a really good day, and it was time to quit before I got any further behind. I picked Daniel up and stuck him in bed, despite the protests from him. I then got Alex and resisted the cries of "noooooooo, mommy's bed", and put him in his bed. I then decided to sit down and write.
The end of this story may seem a little stressful, but I still consider it a pretty awesome day, as I got to spend extra time with my boys and get things accomplished. I think the being off work thing makes it impossible to not have a good day. I have been scheming all day how I could possibly afford to stay home with my boys and be a stay at home mommy for the most part, and send Alex and Daniel to daycare maybe twice a week so I could get things accomplished. I could defiantly have days like this every day. Alex and Daniel are growing up way too fast to be away from them every day, all day. Do I know that it is totally impractical to think this way? Why yes, but a girl can dream right? Sigh. Oh well, maybe eventually. Read my blog and make it famous, (as if it were that good), and maybe I can. Well off to the shower and bed for this girl!
Over and Out
Erica
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Pop the Lock and Throw Away the Key
What a day. I can't say it was good. It was definitely far more bad than good, although I think it's mainly because I am in a bit of a funk and throwing myself a pity party. I suppose everyone is entitled to it at some point. That's not the point of this post though. Tonight I had one of those experiences as a mother that was slightly scary, slightly funny after the fact, and a learning experience as well. Tonight I left my keys in my car as I had no pockets and my kids were playing outside at my mom's house. After we were done playing and I was ready to take them back to our house, Alex climbed in the car, and I heard the beep of the key fob as Alex locked himself, and my keys in the car. Would it have made sense to not leave the keys in the car? Absolutely. Did I even think of that at the time? No. I was mainly thinking that I did not want to lose my keys running around outside. My mom and I were coaxing Alex to try to unlock the doors and he was pushing every button but the right ones. At this point, Alex was pouring hand sanitizer all over my car, jumping from seat to seat and making cute little faces like "I know better, but I'm so cute it's ok".
Meanwhile...
Moving on to the wedge idea. My mom asked me at this time if I had ever had anyone help me break into my car before. I said yes, and suggested we get a screwdriver and a wire coat hanger to try and force our way in. As my mother is trying to break into my car, all the while I'm playing with Daniel and trying to coax Alex into opening the door, she comes up with the idea to check and see if a neighbor had a kit to break into a car. This was about 45 minutes after we got started. I drove down to my neighbors house and yes he had a kit to open up a car. He and another neighbor came up and as they were working towards unlocking the door, Alex began to play with the lock and as my neighbor encouraged him to "pull, pull harder" and suddenly, the lock popped open. All it took was a little encouragement from a man with a deep voice. Apparently that's what it takes to make my sons listen to me and stop goofing around.
So tonight was a learning experience and also another reminder of how smart and wonderful my little boys are. Lately I have just hated leaving them so much. I would love to stay home with them all day. Alas that is not in the cards for a single mommy, but as I put them to bed tonight, I was already counting down the moments until Saturday, when I have two full days to spend with my baby boys. I'm going to head to bed now to deal with myself before my day at work and away from my boys tomorrow.
Good Night for Now!
Erica
Meanwhile...
Moving on to the wedge idea. My mom asked me at this time if I had ever had anyone help me break into my car before. I said yes, and suggested we get a screwdriver and a wire coat hanger to try and force our way in. As my mother is trying to break into my car, all the while I'm playing with Daniel and trying to coax Alex into opening the door, she comes up with the idea to check and see if a neighbor had a kit to break into a car. This was about 45 minutes after we got started. I drove down to my neighbors house and yes he had a kit to open up a car. He and another neighbor came up and as they were working towards unlocking the door, Alex began to play with the lock and as my neighbor encouraged him to "pull, pull harder" and suddenly, the lock popped open. All it took was a little encouragement from a man with a deep voice. Apparently that's what it takes to make my sons listen to me and stop goofing around.
So tonight was a learning experience and also another reminder of how smart and wonderful my little boys are. Lately I have just hated leaving them so much. I would love to stay home with them all day. Alas that is not in the cards for a single mommy, but as I put them to bed tonight, I was already counting down the moments until Saturday, when I have two full days to spend with my baby boys. I'm going to head to bed now to deal with myself before my day at work and away from my boys tomorrow.
Good Night for Now!
Erica
Monday, May 13, 2013
Couscous meets Toddler: Failure of Epic Proportions and Tidal Waves in the Bathroom!
To end things off on a lighter note tonight I thought I would share my experience with feeding my toddler's couscous. For those of you who may not know what this is, (not a judgment, I didn't know until about a year ago when my mom started making it), it is little tiny balls of pasta. Anyone who knows how toddlers eat, especially twins who are in constant competition to make a bigger mess, knows that tiny balls of anything, especially slightly sticky pasta is never a good idea. This aside my son Daniel absolutely loves it. This is mostly likely a result of the messy quality of food that is couscous. As I am a mom that aims to please (and also gets pissy when my hard work and yummy, well balanced meals hit the floor), I figured I would make something that my children like, in this case Hawaiian marinated chicken, carrots, and couscous with sweet chili Thai sauce on it. As a foot note I would also like to add that I just cleaned my kitchen floor two days ago, so this makes the turn of events at dinner even more tragic.
Fast forward from clean kitchens and making tasty dinners to ten minutes after the food is put on the table. While Daniel made a genuine effort to eat all of his couscous and ask for seconds, Alex was literally making it rain. No, not dollars as in the song "Make it Rain", but literal couscous rain all over my kitchen. Throwing handfuls in the air between shoving bites of chicken in his mouth and asking for "mo chicken mommy". Thankfully Alex responded well to the "stop throwing food if you want more chicken concept", and stopped. Meanwhile Daniel said, "I done momma, down please". After thanking him for his polite manners in asking to get down, I realized that in the rush to stuff as much couscous down his throat, as quickly as possible, he had also covered himself in it, as well as, but not limited to, the chair, his booster seat, his jeans, the inside of his jeans and diaper, the entire floor around his chair and the glass patio door behind him. What a mess! I calmly cleaned him up and stuck him straight in the bath tub. What have I learned from this mess? That's right couscous is a food that requires close supervision, and possible loss of self-feeding privileges, especially on newly cleaned floors.
As we moved from dinner to bath time, I realized that the amount of clean up required tonight was going to be pretty significant, as bath time began to quickly resemble the ride "Splash Mountain" at Disney World, minus the warning splash zone signs and the screaming kids. Oh yeah, that's right, there were screaming kids and a mommy ducking for cover, so quite possibly closer to the theme park ride then I originally thought. Thankfully my children are cute at all times, no matter what, even when you know, your mopping up an inch of water from your bathroom floor. You may say, why not drain the bath tub? The answer is simple. They still have to get cleaned up right? Plain water does not constitute being so fresh and so clean. Sometimes it's easier to ride the wave (literally) and go with the flow (or the monsoon!). After drying two babies off and moving into tooth brushing time (and having Daniel shove my toothbrush halfway down my throat; we do mommy's turn and babies turn in my house), we were off to the living room to spend some quality family time together, reading stories and watching The Pajanimals before bedtime.
At this time Daniel decided it was good to stick with the theme of the evening (couscous rain, literal tidal waves in the tub, are we seeing a pattern here tonight?), and flood the living room floor with almost every movie on our entertainment center. I totally did not see it coming, as my kids have not touched the movies in ages and I figured the whole scaling the entertainment center phase was over. After we put the movies back away together (at the threat of early bedtime, which I hate since I love cuddle time with my boys), we snuggled on my over sized living room chair together to read a book. I thought maybe it was finally time to wind down, until my sons figured out that they could jump on the ottoman, over the arm of the love seat, and hit the floor. (What a fun game! Who would have guessed hitting the floor at high speed could be fun?). After a few more minutes of this, quiet time finally came to my house. When I announced bedtime, my sons did the sweetest and cutest thing I can think of. (And also heart-breaking considering I love to cuddle with my sons). They said "mommy's bed" and took off for my bed. I went back to my room to find them cuddled up under my blankets, looking just as cute and sweet as could be. Unfortunately, any parent knows this, you never sleep as well when your kids are in your bed, so I shooed them off to their own beds. I think that I am the luckiest mommy in the world to have such sweet little boys. As for this mommy though, I think that it is time for me to snuggle up in my bed (after checking in on my boys), and get to sleep myself. Four am comes wayyy too early!
Over and Out
Erica
Fast forward from clean kitchens and making tasty dinners to ten minutes after the food is put on the table. While Daniel made a genuine effort to eat all of his couscous and ask for seconds, Alex was literally making it rain. No, not dollars as in the song "Make it Rain", but literal couscous rain all over my kitchen. Throwing handfuls in the air between shoving bites of chicken in his mouth and asking for "mo chicken mommy". Thankfully Alex responded well to the "stop throwing food if you want more chicken concept", and stopped. Meanwhile Daniel said, "I done momma, down please". After thanking him for his polite manners in asking to get down, I realized that in the rush to stuff as much couscous down his throat, as quickly as possible, he had also covered himself in it, as well as, but not limited to, the chair, his booster seat, his jeans, the inside of his jeans and diaper, the entire floor around his chair and the glass patio door behind him. What a mess! I calmly cleaned him up and stuck him straight in the bath tub. What have I learned from this mess? That's right couscous is a food that requires close supervision, and possible loss of self-feeding privileges, especially on newly cleaned floors.
As we moved from dinner to bath time, I realized that the amount of clean up required tonight was going to be pretty significant, as bath time began to quickly resemble the ride "Splash Mountain" at Disney World, minus the warning splash zone signs and the screaming kids. Oh yeah, that's right, there were screaming kids and a mommy ducking for cover, so quite possibly closer to the theme park ride then I originally thought. Thankfully my children are cute at all times, no matter what, even when you know, your mopping up an inch of water from your bathroom floor. You may say, why not drain the bath tub? The answer is simple. They still have to get cleaned up right? Plain water does not constitute being so fresh and so clean. Sometimes it's easier to ride the wave (literally) and go with the flow (or the monsoon!). After drying two babies off and moving into tooth brushing time (and having Daniel shove my toothbrush halfway down my throat; we do mommy's turn and babies turn in my house), we were off to the living room to spend some quality family time together, reading stories and watching The Pajanimals before bedtime.
At this time Daniel decided it was good to stick with the theme of the evening (couscous rain, literal tidal waves in the tub, are we seeing a pattern here tonight?), and flood the living room floor with almost every movie on our entertainment center. I totally did not see it coming, as my kids have not touched the movies in ages and I figured the whole scaling the entertainment center phase was over. After we put the movies back away together (at the threat of early bedtime, which I hate since I love cuddle time with my boys), we snuggled on my over sized living room chair together to read a book. I thought maybe it was finally time to wind down, until my sons figured out that they could jump on the ottoman, over the arm of the love seat, and hit the floor. (What a fun game! Who would have guessed hitting the floor at high speed could be fun?). After a few more minutes of this, quiet time finally came to my house. When I announced bedtime, my sons did the sweetest and cutest thing I can think of. (And also heart-breaking considering I love to cuddle with my sons). They said "mommy's bed" and took off for my bed. I went back to my room to find them cuddled up under my blankets, looking just as cute and sweet as could be. Unfortunately, any parent knows this, you never sleep as well when your kids are in your bed, so I shooed them off to their own beds. I think that I am the luckiest mommy in the world to have such sweet little boys. As for this mommy though, I think that it is time for me to snuggle up in my bed (after checking in on my boys), and get to sleep myself. Four am comes wayyy too early!
Over and Out
Erica
The Day that Just Wouldn't Quit
Normally I like to keep my blog posts, entertaining, funny, and light hearted. My children provide plenty of good material for all of that. I think that tonight's may be different. Tonight I am going to write about the one thing that I hate most in the world. This apparently changes with my mood, but tonight I hate men. In fact, I wish I could claim immaculate conception so I did not have to claim that Alex and Daniel came from a broken, warped, fucked up, man. My sons are amazing and I hope that they never put women through what their own father put me through, and continues to put me through. I know that I am not the only women to think, or write these words. It's amazing how wonderful things like children can come out of awful people and situations. What brings me to this post is my own frustration and hurt feelings and pride, but I think it's also how I feel deep down inside. Lately my sons have been consistently asking me where their dad is, and whenever they see a big truck they say "daddy's truck". They pick up my cell phone at night and ask to call daddy. It's heart breaking when we call night after night and he's too busy living his life two hours away with his girlfriend to take the time to answer our sons. When confronted about this he tells me to chill out and asks me why I'm freaking out. It makes me furious that he won't justify how I'm feeling and what I think. I think that I thought this would be a therapeutic post, but in reality I'm just feeling more angry and hurt with every word I write. Raise your hand if you know how this feels. I am so grateful that I have my sons. I have long since realized that they are the only men that I need in my life, well that and my daddy.
My son's father and I have been planning to take a vacation with our kids this summer, together. Who thought that would be OK? Seventeen total hours in the car together? Oh yeah that's right. me. Do you ever have one of those "what was I thinking moments"? Yeah, about six this evening I was having one of those thoughts. He may never want me, but I realized a long time ago that a small part of me will never stop wanting him, and will never be OK with him being with other women. It sucks, but I know that other moms in my situation totally get this. I know that I'm putting my party hat on and throwing myself a pity party tonight, but you know what? I don't care. Sometimes I think that I am entitled to do so, being that I have been dealing with all the shit that hits my fan, fairly well lately.
Another disappointment tonight was when I thought that I had possibly met the man that would change the single part of my blog title, but I got a phone call saying, "we talked about the distance thing and I decided I can't handle it". I very maturely said "thanks for the call and letting me know, but I'm busy and have to go", then I hung up, cried for a moment, and then sent a text saying "your loss". So I totally killed the whole handling it gracefully thing at the end, but I think I am actually a little relived since there were no sparks on the first date and he was actually a little funny looking. I just deleted his number out of my phone, as is my customary routine with ex potential boyfriends, and have cancelled my match.com membership and decided to take a year off of dating. I guess when it rains it pours and when your already down, someone or something will surely kick you down a little lower. For the record I do think that I would like to take a year off dating and mean it. So any of you men out there that have any ideas about ruining my single for a year plan, just don't. That has always been a trend when I have made that goal in the past and I actually intend to stick to it this time.
I guess the lesson I have learned from this evening is, yes it sucks when the person you want to lean on isn't there and never will be, and is the cause of most of your heartache, but it's important to keep calm, (well at least throw the hissy fit in the privacy of your home), and carry on. I think that a quote from one of my favorite singers applies well to my man frustrations. In the words of the great and fabulous Miranda Lambert, "Go on fix your make up girl, it's just a break up. Run and hide your crazy, cuz I raised you better, gotta keep it together even when you fall apart". I completely agree with this statement. It doesn't matter how you feel inside, it's your right to feel how you want to feel as long as you keep it classy and don't hurt anyone else.
Good night for now from a frustrated, fed up, and annoyed, mommy.
My son's father and I have been planning to take a vacation with our kids this summer, together. Who thought that would be OK? Seventeen total hours in the car together? Oh yeah that's right. me. Do you ever have one of those "what was I thinking moments"? Yeah, about six this evening I was having one of those thoughts. He may never want me, but I realized a long time ago that a small part of me will never stop wanting him, and will never be OK with him being with other women. It sucks, but I know that other moms in my situation totally get this. I know that I'm putting my party hat on and throwing myself a pity party tonight, but you know what? I don't care. Sometimes I think that I am entitled to do so, being that I have been dealing with all the shit that hits my fan, fairly well lately.
Another disappointment tonight was when I thought that I had possibly met the man that would change the single part of my blog title, but I got a phone call saying, "we talked about the distance thing and I decided I can't handle it". I very maturely said "thanks for the call and letting me know, but I'm busy and have to go", then I hung up, cried for a moment, and then sent a text saying "your loss". So I totally killed the whole handling it gracefully thing at the end, but I think I am actually a little relived since there were no sparks on the first date and he was actually a little funny looking. I just deleted his number out of my phone, as is my customary routine with ex potential boyfriends, and have cancelled my match.com membership and decided to take a year off of dating. I guess when it rains it pours and when your already down, someone or something will surely kick you down a little lower. For the record I do think that I would like to take a year off dating and mean it. So any of you men out there that have any ideas about ruining my single for a year plan, just don't. That has always been a trend when I have made that goal in the past and I actually intend to stick to it this time.
I guess the lesson I have learned from this evening is, yes it sucks when the person you want to lean on isn't there and never will be, and is the cause of most of your heartache, but it's important to keep calm, (well at least throw the hissy fit in the privacy of your home), and carry on. I think that a quote from one of my favorite singers applies well to my man frustrations. In the words of the great and fabulous Miranda Lambert, "Go on fix your make up girl, it's just a break up. Run and hide your crazy, cuz I raised you better, gotta keep it together even when you fall apart". I completely agree with this statement. It doesn't matter how you feel inside, it's your right to feel how you want to feel as long as you keep it classy and don't hurt anyone else.
Good night for now from a frustrated, fed up, and annoyed, mommy.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
It's been way too long
It's been way too long since I have posted on here, but I have been busy writing an excellent personal statement about why I will be a good social worker, in order to apply to graduate school. Is it excellent? Probably not. But, I do think it will do to achieve the intended goal; get accepted into an MSW program. Not nearly as interesting as writing in my blog, but totally necessary, as I do not think that the University of New England school of Social Work would be to interested in my encounters with my children's feces and Officer Pablo. Anyway, on to a more exciting topic that I would like to touch on for a few moments. Mommy hood, which was my original point for starting this blog. I would like to wish all of the mommy's out there a Happy Mother's day times 1,000,000. Especially the single mom's out there, as well as the single dad's out there, who realized upon waking up this morning that no one was bringing you breakfast in bed, or helping you clean the house. If you woke up this morning and knew that the only way your family would be eating a nice breakfast on a Sunday morning was if you made it, congratulations even more. It's a tiring job, but you still pulled yourself out of bed and went about your business as if it was any other day, because you love your children and no one else is going to do the job for you. I suspect that there are plenty of married mommy's that experience this as well. I know that in my three years worth of mother's days things are normally crazy, hectic, and frustrating, but always end up being wonderful days anyway. Today, my children decided to storm the buffet that was set out for a going away party for the organist, and dump lemonade all over the floor. This was only after Alex's trek down the aisle and up to the alter during the pastor's sermon. Good thing the pastor has a sense of humor!
I have children that hate to cuddle unless they are sick, whom both snuggled up to me this evening and told me how much they loved me. Nothing can compare to how amazing hearing that felt. I can also add that no iPhone were injured this mother's day, unlike last year, when my iPhone was a casualty of last mother's days festivities! So, in conclusion Happy Mother's Day, and I hope everyone else had as wonderful of a day as I did. Just hopefully you know, your children skipped out on any attempts to deface the house of God with food!
I have children that hate to cuddle unless they are sick, whom both snuggled up to me this evening and told me how much they loved me. Nothing can compare to how amazing hearing that felt. I can also add that no iPhone were injured this mother's day, unlike last year, when my iPhone was a casualty of last mother's days festivities! So, in conclusion Happy Mother's Day, and I hope everyone else had as wonderful of a day as I did. Just hopefully you know, your children skipped out on any attempts to deface the house of God with food!
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Sammi and Char Take on Harrisburg
Although I have been keeping my blog mainly about my experiences as a mommy, I have many pre mommy experiences that I believe are exciting and funny, dating back to my college days, all the way up to three days prior to finding out I was expecting.
Here is one of the stories detailing a time period shortly after college. They say you meet the women who will be in your bridal party (I know, I know, I'm on a wedding kick tonight), some day at college. I have my friends from high school, and my child hood friends, that I can say will be my bridesmaids, should I ever decide to change my single status, and find someone who wants to help me out with that, but I also have many wonderful people that I met while in college. One of these women we shall call Kenzie. Kenzie and have have been through so much, along with another two women that I became close with while in college. From dates at CiCi's pizza, nights out with the Friday Four, to almost getting kicked out of American Eagle for taking pictures in rock star sunglasses, to our adventures in Harrisburg. After our sunglasses incident we called ourselves Paris and Nicole. As in Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie.
Fast forward to the year after I graduated from college. I was living in PA, about 45 minutes outside of Harrisburg. In Harrisburg there is this really awesome bar/club called the Hardware Bar. It is an amazing place for a good time and I highly recommend it to anyone who likes to party. (Again with the marriage thing, Kenzie says that I will be having a bachelorette party there if I get married). That's how many memories were made at this place. The first time we visited the Hardware bar we decided that we were going to make up fake names to introduce ourselves as to anyone we met. Hence Sammi and Char were born. Sammi was a crime scene investigator (and way prior to the Sammi on Jersey Shore), and I believe Char was a special ed teacher, however I could be wrong. Aging is a bitch.
Here are a few stories detailing the weekend of my 23rd birthday;
Night 1: Friday April whatever 2010: We head to the Hardware bar to meet the guy I had met a couple weeks prior at the same place. We had continued to talk and go on a couple dates prior to my birthday weekend. He was hot, well dressed, and dumb as a box of rocks, but I expected him to be the provider of my birthday drinks for the evening. Wrong...he was also cheap and decided he would have his friend drive us home, after consuming too much alcohol. We had a great night, but what did we learn from this experience? That's right, on to the next one, and don't trust a man to stay sober enough to drive you home.
Night 2: Saturday April I can't remember, 2010: My friend and I decided to ride to the Hardware bar with a group of soldiers that I became friends with that were stationed at a local base. Mental note, never get into a car that is so beat to hell that you can see the road through the floor! Even if it is a Jeep. Thankfully they were a nice, trustworthy group of people. They weren't into drinking and driving and we had a good time piled into a car full of people and having to sit on other's laps. What can I say? You do stupid things in your late teens and early 20's. We had arranged to meet the guy that I was talking to from the night before at the bar, problematically I was also dating a guy from the group of soldiers. I spent a lot of time "in the bathroom", that night. In actuality I was running from the first floor of the bar to the third, and from Justin to Brad, Brad to Justin. Then, Brad made sure my friend and I got home safely.
It was a wonderful weekend of dancing on the bar, being put in the barber chair to do shots and have a hot bartender slap my ass with a leather belt, and living it up as Sammi and Char. It will never cease to amaze me how free it can feel to pretend your someone your not. I guess I should mention that shortly after meeting Brad I had added a signature to my text messages that said "*Erica*". Well, needless to say, I had been going on dates with this guy who met "Sammi" not Erica, and Sammi, forgot to tell Brad that her real name was Erica. So you can imagine the conversation that transpired after Brad got a text signed *Erica*. Good memories with good people, and no regrets. Just thankfully you know, the bottom didn't literally fall out of the Jeep on the way home!
Over and Out
Erica
Here is one of the stories detailing a time period shortly after college. They say you meet the women who will be in your bridal party (I know, I know, I'm on a wedding kick tonight), some day at college. I have my friends from high school, and my child hood friends, that I can say will be my bridesmaids, should I ever decide to change my single status, and find someone who wants to help me out with that, but I also have many wonderful people that I met while in college. One of these women we shall call Kenzie. Kenzie and have have been through so much, along with another two women that I became close with while in college. From dates at CiCi's pizza, nights out with the Friday Four, to almost getting kicked out of American Eagle for taking pictures in rock star sunglasses, to our adventures in Harrisburg. After our sunglasses incident we called ourselves Paris and Nicole. As in Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie.
Fast forward to the year after I graduated from college. I was living in PA, about 45 minutes outside of Harrisburg. In Harrisburg there is this really awesome bar/club called the Hardware Bar. It is an amazing place for a good time and I highly recommend it to anyone who likes to party. (Again with the marriage thing, Kenzie says that I will be having a bachelorette party there if I get married). That's how many memories were made at this place. The first time we visited the Hardware bar we decided that we were going to make up fake names to introduce ourselves as to anyone we met. Hence Sammi and Char were born. Sammi was a crime scene investigator (and way prior to the Sammi on Jersey Shore), and I believe Char was a special ed teacher, however I could be wrong. Aging is a bitch.
Here are a few stories detailing the weekend of my 23rd birthday;
Night 1: Friday April whatever 2010: We head to the Hardware bar to meet the guy I had met a couple weeks prior at the same place. We had continued to talk and go on a couple dates prior to my birthday weekend. He was hot, well dressed, and dumb as a box of rocks, but I expected him to be the provider of my birthday drinks for the evening. Wrong...he was also cheap and decided he would have his friend drive us home, after consuming too much alcohol. We had a great night, but what did we learn from this experience? That's right, on to the next one, and don't trust a man to stay sober enough to drive you home.
Night 2: Saturday April I can't remember, 2010: My friend and I decided to ride to the Hardware bar with a group of soldiers that I became friends with that were stationed at a local base. Mental note, never get into a car that is so beat to hell that you can see the road through the floor! Even if it is a Jeep. Thankfully they were a nice, trustworthy group of people. They weren't into drinking and driving and we had a good time piled into a car full of people and having to sit on other's laps. What can I say? You do stupid things in your late teens and early 20's. We had arranged to meet the guy that I was talking to from the night before at the bar, problematically I was also dating a guy from the group of soldiers. I spent a lot of time "in the bathroom", that night. In actuality I was running from the first floor of the bar to the third, and from Justin to Brad, Brad to Justin. Then, Brad made sure my friend and I got home safely.
It was a wonderful weekend of dancing on the bar, being put in the barber chair to do shots and have a hot bartender slap my ass with a leather belt, and living it up as Sammi and Char. It will never cease to amaze me how free it can feel to pretend your someone your not. I guess I should mention that shortly after meeting Brad I had added a signature to my text messages that said "*Erica*". Well, needless to say, I had been going on dates with this guy who met "Sammi" not Erica, and Sammi, forgot to tell Brad that her real name was Erica. So you can imagine the conversation that transpired after Brad got a text signed *Erica*. Good memories with good people, and no regrets. Just thankfully you know, the bottom didn't literally fall out of the Jeep on the way home!
Over and Out
Erica
Wedding Words of Wisdom for the Single Lady
It has been awhile since I have had the time to sit down and work on this blog. The past weekend has been a blur of preparing to watch one of my favorite couples in the world make it down the aisle. I am happy to say that after rehearsal, dinner, and a cold from being outside too long, my children's godmother and her fiance are now husband and wife. This wedding has given me a lot to think about. I have never really thought it was possible to love someone so much (outside of my children), that a man would tear up at the sight of the women he loves walking down the aisle in a white (OK it was ivory) dress. I was a bridesmaid in this wedding, and I can honestly say I feel so privileged to know such a loving, kind, wonderful couple. There are not enough positive adjectives in the English language to describe what wonderful people my friends Paula and Kenneth are. I cried like a baby when I saw my friend walk down the aisle. I have spent so much time wishing that I could have a wedding with my son's father, but something hit me at this wedding.
Seeing how they looked at each other, how happy they were to be committing to each other for the rest of their lives, and how engrossed they were in each other, I discovered that walking down the aisle with whatever I changed his name to for the sake of this blog, that we would never have that in a million years. No matter how hard either one of us tries, if we were ever together, it would strictly be for our children and we would all be miserable. I have previously, thought that once you have children you should stick together no matter what. I have held onto that idea for the past two years. It hit me somewhere around the time of the happy couple's first dance together (which was executed beautifully if your reading this), that I want to find a man that looks at me the way Kenneth looked at Paula at this wedding. I am still trying to process my slight shift in viewpoint, although I don't think you should throw the towel in on your family from the get go.
In addition to this change in attitude, and what I now know I want, I defiantly won't settle for anything less then a man who looks at me the way I'm describing what I witnessed this past Sunday. I always said I wanted someone to take out the trash, pull it to the curb every Tuesday and Friday morning, and bring it back at night, and to go put gas in my car when I don't feel like it. I am capable of the above, (as well as being the bug flusher, the one who had to pick a dead mouse out of the washer and re wash all the clothes, and the mother and father to my two boys), but that doesn't mean I like doing the bug and mouse thing, and taking charge of the garbage. I would honestly prefer to regulate those chores to someone else! I have a different idea now though. It's nice to have all of these things, but what matters is finding someone that completes you. I guess the idea of "your other half" really does exist, it's just up to us to wait for a great thing to come along.
Without further ado, I am going to hit the sheets, as I have some good dreams in store for me tonight I think!
Erica
Seeing how they looked at each other, how happy they were to be committing to each other for the rest of their lives, and how engrossed they were in each other, I discovered that walking down the aisle with whatever I changed his name to for the sake of this blog, that we would never have that in a million years. No matter how hard either one of us tries, if we were ever together, it would strictly be for our children and we would all be miserable. I have previously, thought that once you have children you should stick together no matter what. I have held onto that idea for the past two years. It hit me somewhere around the time of the happy couple's first dance together (which was executed beautifully if your reading this), that I want to find a man that looks at me the way Kenneth looked at Paula at this wedding. I am still trying to process my slight shift in viewpoint, although I don't think you should throw the towel in on your family from the get go.
In addition to this change in attitude, and what I now know I want, I defiantly won't settle for anything less then a man who looks at me the way I'm describing what I witnessed this past Sunday. I always said I wanted someone to take out the trash, pull it to the curb every Tuesday and Friday morning, and bring it back at night, and to go put gas in my car when I don't feel like it. I am capable of the above, (as well as being the bug flusher, the one who had to pick a dead mouse out of the washer and re wash all the clothes, and the mother and father to my two boys), but that doesn't mean I like doing the bug and mouse thing, and taking charge of the garbage. I would honestly prefer to regulate those chores to someone else! I have a different idea now though. It's nice to have all of these things, but what matters is finding someone that completes you. I guess the idea of "your other half" really does exist, it's just up to us to wait for a great thing to come along.
Without further ado, I am going to hit the sheets, as I have some good dreams in store for me tonight I think!
Erica
Updated: Officer Pablo and I meet again...Sort of
So yesterday I was running errands and I happened to be near the same place Officer Pablo pulled me over. I'll keep this short because it's not much of a story, but low and behold if I didn't see Officer Pablo again.
Thankfully he was driving, as was I, sans cell phone, and burned out headlight. (I did get my address on my license changed though, take that!) He looked at me real close and I'm pretty sure out of all the traffic stops he makes, he remembered me. I assume he was thinking, "there's the crazy lady I pulled over a few weeks ago, where she started crying hysterically over a warning, better say away from her", or something lovely to that affect.
I could have sworn I saw his car pick up speed as he passed. Just saying, another ticket successfully avoided.
Good night all!
Erica
Thankfully he was driving, as was I, sans cell phone, and burned out headlight. (I did get my address on my license changed though, take that!) He looked at me real close and I'm pretty sure out of all the traffic stops he makes, he remembered me. I assume he was thinking, "there's the crazy lady I pulled over a few weeks ago, where she started crying hysterically over a warning, better say away from her", or something lovely to that affect.
I could have sworn I saw his car pick up speed as he passed. Just saying, another ticket successfully avoided.
Good night all!
Erica
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Phone number F*** up
Today was a fairly normal day at work. I worked hard, got my stuff done, and had very little interaction with anyone, as my appointments all failed to show and I hid in my office all day. As usual I could not have a totally normal day with out incident. It wasn't as major as some of the things I have encountered during my days since entering single motherhood, but it defiantly could be classified as an embarrassing incident.
Let me give you some background on my story. The security guard at my office is a friend from high school. He has recently started reading my blog...He likes to say I have too much time on my hands, but yes it is funny. I like to say that I am dedicated. I stay up late to write. I could never do this while my kids are awake and running around. He read my post from the night before about my ex's. Being a local guy he used to be friends with the guy I referred to as "the rat". He knows some of the background history between this particular guy and I, and also knows that he would be one of the last people on earth I feel like talking to. He and I had discussed him coming over to power wash my house in couple weeks, as my neighborhood requires this be done at least once per year and I don't have the proper equipment to do it myself. Plus, lets see, I hate washing my car, why would I want to wash a whole house????
Anyway on to the good stuff. I had left my office for a meeting and when I got back the guard had left a phone number on my desk, I assumed, so I could call him about setting up a time to come wash my house for me. I sent a text, you know rather then doing the smart thing and asking him in person if it was his number, so I texted him and said "I got your message". Needless to say he then informed me that the number he left on my desk was that of "the rat". I didn't get a response but was thoroughly embarrassed, since although I did not have what was apparently his new phone number, chances are he still has mine. When the last thing you speak to someone is that they are a jerk and you never want to speak to them again, it kinda appears as if your crawling back, or attempting to try and get them back in your life if you contact them again. Totally not what I meant to do.
That and Billy Joe the security guard will never let me live that one down.
Oh well, live and learn. I learned to accept a long time ago that this is just the kind of thing that happens to me. I have got a long night of chores ahead of me, so time to run.
Over and Out
Erica
Let me give you some background on my story. The security guard at my office is a friend from high school. He has recently started reading my blog...He likes to say I have too much time on my hands, but yes it is funny. I like to say that I am dedicated. I stay up late to write. I could never do this while my kids are awake and running around. He read my post from the night before about my ex's. Being a local guy he used to be friends with the guy I referred to as "the rat". He knows some of the background history between this particular guy and I, and also knows that he would be one of the last people on earth I feel like talking to. He and I had discussed him coming over to power wash my house in couple weeks, as my neighborhood requires this be done at least once per year and I don't have the proper equipment to do it myself. Plus, lets see, I hate washing my car, why would I want to wash a whole house????
Anyway on to the good stuff. I had left my office for a meeting and when I got back the guard had left a phone number on my desk, I assumed, so I could call him about setting up a time to come wash my house for me. I sent a text, you know rather then doing the smart thing and asking him in person if it was his number, so I texted him and said "I got your message". Needless to say he then informed me that the number he left on my desk was that of "the rat". I didn't get a response but was thoroughly embarrassed, since although I did not have what was apparently his new phone number, chances are he still has mine. When the last thing you speak to someone is that they are a jerk and you never want to speak to them again, it kinda appears as if your crawling back, or attempting to try and get them back in your life if you contact them again. Totally not what I meant to do.
That and Billy Joe the security guard will never let me live that one down.
Oh well, live and learn. I learned to accept a long time ago that this is just the kind of thing that happens to me. I have got a long night of chores ahead of me, so time to run.
Over and Out
Erica
Monday, April 15, 2013
Once a Cheater, Always a Cheater
I haven't had a lot of time to record my daily experiences in awhile and have a lot to do this evening but I hate to neglect my blog..yeah I'm a little proud of it, so I am going to take some time to talk about a topic that intrigued me last night. While waiting for bedtime to come last night, I decided that my boys and I would watch "He's Just Not That In To You". You know, the movie where we are taught that if a man really wants u,s he will get us, and we are the rule and not the exception, and all that? Yeah, well I think I have decided that is totally true. After the dating roller coaster that I have been through over the past couple years, I can conclude one thing; as a general rule women do not matter to men, unless we are the exception. I can remember a couple months ago a friend told me she was "talking" to a guy who said he didn't want a relationship...period. My friend thought she could change this guy and change what he wanted. You will have more luck trying to change the seasons. I have come to find that they don't seek a relationship for the most part, if they find their "exception" they are all about it...if not, sorry your just the girl that will hold him over until he finds "the one". Let's take this example. We shall call him "Rat", since his nickname is already the name of a small, ugly rodent, and rat is pretty close to what he actually is. (No, I am actually not that bitter, but I just passed him on the road while thinking about what to write in the blog and it brought up some bitterness. No worries I responded to his blank stare with a well timed and perfectly aimed middle finger as we sat at the stop sign). Him probably waiting to see if I would ram his car, and me just letting him have the right of way. (No, I am not stupid enough to ram a car made in the 1980's, the mini hearse wouldn't stand a chance!) Anyway, back to the point of this story...I dated this particular rodent about four years ago and he told me the whole nine months he did not want a relationship, and being 21 years old and not quite as well versed in the encyclopedia of men as I am at almost 26, I believed him. At the nine month mark he suddenly stopped answering the phone and I soon found out he found "the one". After losing my shit on him, wreaking a car while texting him, getting told he didn't give a f*** if I was OK after my accident, I decided to move on to different things. I can't call it better things, but I firmly believe that everyone who enters your life serves a purpose, even if it's just to show you how much better you can do and to teach you a lesson. Needless to say, I can't say I didn't go back to him in a moment or two of weakness upon moving home from college. So sue me..he has since knocked up a actively using drug addict and lives with his baby mama parents and 30 something girlfriend. To each his own I suppose. All I can say is karma is a you know what! I defiantly agree. I was not so great to several very nice guys before it all caught up with me.
After several other failed attempts at dating losers who "didn't want a girlfriend", I apparently still had not learned my lesson, or the value of a good man. I had graduated college and had moved away for my first big girl job. I decided to go visit my college, as I had a good friend still living in the area where my college was located. It was Valentine's day 2010, and I had been "dumped" by the army guy I had been dating on Valentine's day, due to a fit of alcohol induced stupidity. I decided to tell his ex girlfriend (who went to my college) that he was my boyfriend. Mainly just because I didn't like her, and wanted to piss her off. He was not happy. After all, he didn't want a girlfriend. He is now married to someone he met in the army. Good riddance, I now know that if he was any type of man besides a horses ass, he would have either given me the relationship I wanted or kept his flattering comments and flirting to himself and been the friend to me he claimed to be...What did I do in typical vengeful female style? I went to a party at a guy house off campus with my friend that I was visiting. There I met my children's father, who eventually became this guy's frat brother. I like to call this the best and worst day of my life. I say best because I wouldn't have Alex and Daniel without him, but worst because, damn I didn't want him to become a permanent fixture in my life, and I allowed him to completely break me in half, rip my heart out, and stomp all over it. I guess at the time I thought a house full of soulless males (as my friend so eloquently calls them) was just a hell of a good time to party with. We were reflecting the other day on why we thought they were so cool. I guess at one point in our lives a group of men who would have "hogging" contests seemed funny. Now it just seems cruel. (If you don't know what hogging means, it meant they would all go out and try to find the most overweight girl possible to bring home with them). Not only hurtful and humiliating to the girl but what kind of person does that?? I wonder how I could have laughed at that at the time and I suppose it just shows how powerful the attention of a group of men can be, how special it makes you feel, and how your the hot girl they are hanging out with..Then you find out they are just as awful about you behind your back. I digress though, that's not the point of this story. I've mentioned "Charlie" before. He is Alex and Daniel's dad, and the man I was stupid enough to sneak around with, when he had a girlfriend. Had I been at the place I am today and happy with myself, I would have told him to stick his dick in an electrical outlet, but I wasn't so before you judge, it wasn't smart to sneak around with a guy who wasn't single, but I defiantly wasn't at a good place in my life. He told me how much he liked me, and how he couldn't decide who he liked better...Lies, lies, lies, had he really cared about me he would have just been with me. It all finally came to a head when he had me over one night, after he claimed he dumped his girlfriend. I found out he had lied about having guard duty that night (right down to putting his uniform on and packing his truck up), to get me to leave his house in time for his girlfriend to get there as she was on her way up as we were doing our thing. I informed her of everything via Facebook message that evening. I do not take things lying down, and I do not let a man make a fool of me and get away with it. That, and I was extremely hurt more than I was angry. Unfortunately that didn't stop me from going back. (I find it amusing that he later told me that we couldn't be in a relationship because he couldn't trust me. WHAT???? um anyone see something effed here?)
I think we are conditioned to believe the stupid stories that we tell ourselves about them being busy, being sick, out of cell range, whatever bull s*** stories they throw our way. We know when they lie, but we do everything we can to convince ourselves and our friends that he's just busy. It takes thirty seconds to send a text that says "miss you babe". As my next birthday approaches this coming Friday, I take in the gray hairs, extra skin that has appeared around my waist from years of alcohol, wings, and most recently child birth, and I see the wrinkle that has appeared in between my eyebrows. I suppose I wouldn't go back to being so clueless and naive for anything. It may have taken two kids, but I have learned so much. I guess I wasn't getting it and may never have gotten it had I not met Charlie and had Alex and Daniel. I suppose in a way I should thank Charlie for everything he has taught me, (although next time he text's his girlfriend from my couch, I may shove the phone down his throat). I have learned a life with him isn't what I want and I would be miserable had life not turned out exactly the way it was supposed to turn out. Once a cheater, always a cheater, and I firmly believe that.
Moving past Charlie, I met a guy that I thought was "the one", he seemed so perfect, and was the first guy that I cared about enough to forget Charlie. After spending the night at Charlie's house after our son's first birthday, and texting "Anthony" from his bed all night, when Charlie walked into the room to get dressed the next morning all I could think about was how much I wasn't attracted to him anymore, and what was I thinking. I still know I wasn't in a very good emotional place at this time, as all it took was Anthony deciding he didn't want to be around my kids (a.k.a he met someone else, he still denies to this day he did. Facebook doesn't lie buddy!), I completely fell apart once again. I failed to see he was only put in my life to show me I could get over Charlie. I still can admit the weakness that I text Anthony sometimes if I am feeling low. He is kind of like my booster buddy, when I need to be told how attactive I am. That is next on the to do list of kicking people to the curb. Give me a break, even strong women have bad habits they need to kick.
My most recent experience was with a wealthy guy who is big at a large bank. He drives a nice car and has plenty of money to spend, even if he is a bit uptight and cheap. I met him on an on line dating site, and he made it clear from the beginning he only wanted one thing. I'm sure I don't have to tell you what. Needless to say, this quickly dashed my hopes of being parked in the carpool lane, waiting my for my kids outside some fancy private school, in my brand new soccer mommy van, sipping my non fat latte. I have never been more proud of myself, then the moment I told him where to go. He said fine and texted me two days later to make sure I was serious. He called me a couple weeks ago and apologized for his behavior and said he really liked me and wanted to start over. He said he wanted to work towards a relationship and etc, etc, blah, blah, blah. Being burned before, I told him no and he finally begged and pleaded enough over the course of a few days that I agreed to see him again. He was going to bring dinner to my house. I tried to get my kids in bed the night of the said dinner date, so we could enjoy dinner. (I tend to find dates with my children throwing their corn and mashed potato's at a mans head tends to be the last date, plus I have tried to limit the men my kids meet now that they are old enough to realize when people are gone). I was frustrated and tired and called him to let him know the kids were still awake. He told me he didn't want to come if they wouldn't go back to bed, because he didn't want to ever meet them. That made it pretty clear what he was still after. At this point I was pissed. I told him "F*** you, don't bother coming", and hung up on him. I would never change what I am doing with Alex and Daniel to suit someone else, my home is their home, and no one will change that around just to make things more convenient on them. I haven't looked back since, and am happy to say that I am not the type of mother that chooses a man over her kids. Especially a thirty year old POS, who has to lie to attempt to get some, and still failed.
Single parenthood has been an adventure. I can still say I'm single, but I'm happy with that. I still have too much to learn about myself and too many things I need to accomplish to be the best mom I can be to my sons, to let myself get torn up over a man or to seek one out. I'm just happy being me and a wonderful mother to my boys.
I think what I hope that women take away from this post is to date smarter, trust your instincts, and be honest with yourself and your girlfriends. Telling each other what we want to hear isn't getting us anywhere. Call it like you see it (don't be rude, just honest), and we can save ourselves a lot of heartbreak in the future.
Now that it is way past my bed time...
Over and Out,
Erica
After several other failed attempts at dating losers who "didn't want a girlfriend", I apparently still had not learned my lesson, or the value of a good man. I had graduated college and had moved away for my first big girl job. I decided to go visit my college, as I had a good friend still living in the area where my college was located. It was Valentine's day 2010, and I had been "dumped" by the army guy I had been dating on Valentine's day, due to a fit of alcohol induced stupidity. I decided to tell his ex girlfriend (who went to my college) that he was my boyfriend. Mainly just because I didn't like her, and wanted to piss her off. He was not happy. After all, he didn't want a girlfriend. He is now married to someone he met in the army. Good riddance, I now know that if he was any type of man besides a horses ass, he would have either given me the relationship I wanted or kept his flattering comments and flirting to himself and been the friend to me he claimed to be...What did I do in typical vengeful female style? I went to a party at a guy house off campus with my friend that I was visiting. There I met my children's father, who eventually became this guy's frat brother. I like to call this the best and worst day of my life. I say best because I wouldn't have Alex and Daniel without him, but worst because, damn I didn't want him to become a permanent fixture in my life, and I allowed him to completely break me in half, rip my heart out, and stomp all over it. I guess at the time I thought a house full of soulless males (as my friend so eloquently calls them) was just a hell of a good time to party with. We were reflecting the other day on why we thought they were so cool. I guess at one point in our lives a group of men who would have "hogging" contests seemed funny. Now it just seems cruel. (If you don't know what hogging means, it meant they would all go out and try to find the most overweight girl possible to bring home with them). Not only hurtful and humiliating to the girl but what kind of person does that?? I wonder how I could have laughed at that at the time and I suppose it just shows how powerful the attention of a group of men can be, how special it makes you feel, and how your the hot girl they are hanging out with..Then you find out they are just as awful about you behind your back. I digress though, that's not the point of this story. I've mentioned "Charlie" before. He is Alex and Daniel's dad, and the man I was stupid enough to sneak around with, when he had a girlfriend. Had I been at the place I am today and happy with myself, I would have told him to stick his dick in an electrical outlet, but I wasn't so before you judge, it wasn't smart to sneak around with a guy who wasn't single, but I defiantly wasn't at a good place in my life. He told me how much he liked me, and how he couldn't decide who he liked better...Lies, lies, lies, had he really cared about me he would have just been with me. It all finally came to a head when he had me over one night, after he claimed he dumped his girlfriend. I found out he had lied about having guard duty that night (right down to putting his uniform on and packing his truck up), to get me to leave his house in time for his girlfriend to get there as she was on her way up as we were doing our thing. I informed her of everything via Facebook message that evening. I do not take things lying down, and I do not let a man make a fool of me and get away with it. That, and I was extremely hurt more than I was angry. Unfortunately that didn't stop me from going back. (I find it amusing that he later told me that we couldn't be in a relationship because he couldn't trust me. WHAT???? um anyone see something effed here?)
I think we are conditioned to believe the stupid stories that we tell ourselves about them being busy, being sick, out of cell range, whatever bull s*** stories they throw our way. We know when they lie, but we do everything we can to convince ourselves and our friends that he's just busy. It takes thirty seconds to send a text that says "miss you babe". As my next birthday approaches this coming Friday, I take in the gray hairs, extra skin that has appeared around my waist from years of alcohol, wings, and most recently child birth, and I see the wrinkle that has appeared in between my eyebrows. I suppose I wouldn't go back to being so clueless and naive for anything. It may have taken two kids, but I have learned so much. I guess I wasn't getting it and may never have gotten it had I not met Charlie and had Alex and Daniel. I suppose in a way I should thank Charlie for everything he has taught me, (although next time he text's his girlfriend from my couch, I may shove the phone down his throat). I have learned a life with him isn't what I want and I would be miserable had life not turned out exactly the way it was supposed to turn out. Once a cheater, always a cheater, and I firmly believe that.
Moving past Charlie, I met a guy that I thought was "the one", he seemed so perfect, and was the first guy that I cared about enough to forget Charlie. After spending the night at Charlie's house after our son's first birthday, and texting "Anthony" from his bed all night, when Charlie walked into the room to get dressed the next morning all I could think about was how much I wasn't attracted to him anymore, and what was I thinking. I still know I wasn't in a very good emotional place at this time, as all it took was Anthony deciding he didn't want to be around my kids (a.k.a he met someone else, he still denies to this day he did. Facebook doesn't lie buddy!), I completely fell apart once again. I failed to see he was only put in my life to show me I could get over Charlie. I still can admit the weakness that I text Anthony sometimes if I am feeling low. He is kind of like my booster buddy, when I need to be told how attactive I am. That is next on the to do list of kicking people to the curb. Give me a break, even strong women have bad habits they need to kick.
My most recent experience was with a wealthy guy who is big at a large bank. He drives a nice car and has plenty of money to spend, even if he is a bit uptight and cheap. I met him on an on line dating site, and he made it clear from the beginning he only wanted one thing. I'm sure I don't have to tell you what. Needless to say, this quickly dashed my hopes of being parked in the carpool lane, waiting my for my kids outside some fancy private school, in my brand new soccer mommy van, sipping my non fat latte. I have never been more proud of myself, then the moment I told him where to go. He said fine and texted me two days later to make sure I was serious. He called me a couple weeks ago and apologized for his behavior and said he really liked me and wanted to start over. He said he wanted to work towards a relationship and etc, etc, blah, blah, blah. Being burned before, I told him no and he finally begged and pleaded enough over the course of a few days that I agreed to see him again. He was going to bring dinner to my house. I tried to get my kids in bed the night of the said dinner date, so we could enjoy dinner. (I tend to find dates with my children throwing their corn and mashed potato's at a mans head tends to be the last date, plus I have tried to limit the men my kids meet now that they are old enough to realize when people are gone). I was frustrated and tired and called him to let him know the kids were still awake. He told me he didn't want to come if they wouldn't go back to bed, because he didn't want to ever meet them. That made it pretty clear what he was still after. At this point I was pissed. I told him "F*** you, don't bother coming", and hung up on him. I would never change what I am doing with Alex and Daniel to suit someone else, my home is their home, and no one will change that around just to make things more convenient on them. I haven't looked back since, and am happy to say that I am not the type of mother that chooses a man over her kids. Especially a thirty year old POS, who has to lie to attempt to get some, and still failed.
Single parenthood has been an adventure. I can still say I'm single, but I'm happy with that. I still have too much to learn about myself and too many things I need to accomplish to be the best mom I can be to my sons, to let myself get torn up over a man or to seek one out. I'm just happy being me and a wonderful mother to my boys.
I think what I hope that women take away from this post is to date smarter, trust your instincts, and be honest with yourself and your girlfriends. Telling each other what we want to hear isn't getting us anywhere. Call it like you see it (don't be rude, just honest), and we can save ourselves a lot of heartbreak in the future.
Now that it is way past my bed time...
Over and Out,
Erica
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Diary of a Single Working Female + Two: Popcorn Failures, Sidewalk Chalk, and Water in the...
Diary of a Single Working Female + Two: Popcorn Failures, Sidewalk Chalk, and Water in the...: So tonight my best friend and big sister Natalie came over for a girls night tonight. When she arrived I was chasing one of my children arou...
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Popcorn Failures, Sidewalk Chalk, and Water in the Air.
So tonight my best friend and big sister Natalie came over for a girls night tonight. When she arrived I was chasing one of my children around the house, trying to retract the chalk from between Alex's teeth. Both children immediately straightened up and were yelling "aunt mat, aunt mat", very excited to show Aunt Natalie the greeting they had drawn for her on our sidewalk. After playing outside a little longer we went inside the house, where it was about a million degree and we had to turn the air on. As Natalie and I were settling to watch my babies kill each other in the middle of the floor, Natalie and I ready to ref at any time, we started to hear the rush of water, like legit sounded like a freaking river rushing through the bottom of my house. I walked over and pulled the air conditioning vent up out of the floor and what did I find? I found a freaking puddle of standing water laying in the vent. I attempted to call the landlord and keep my children from falling though the vent and drowning. Fast forward to thirty minutes later and a busy signal on the landlords phone he agreed to come out in the morning and look things over. Problematically my children had already discovered long ago that they can lift the vent and they try to crawl right into the gaping hole in the floor.
Moving on...After both of my children double teamed me and picked my BBQ chicken and started eating it...and wiping their sauce covered, sticky hands, all over my leg and my couch I eventually got both babies into bed, and as my sissy and I were listening to them whine, whimper, and laugh, and giggle, and then eventually whine and whimper some more (notice I didn't say they were sleeping at this point, they are not, currently they're making some gurgling nosies). I decided it was time for popcorn. I opened the pack and read the instructions (it said three minutes) and put it in the microwave for three minutes. With about 21 seconds to go I smelled this awful burning smell from the microwave. I raced over and pulled out the popcorn. There was smoke billowing out of the bag and I threw it outside on the deck and Natalie dumped water on it. It may have been one of those situations you had to be there for, but I think if any my neighbors saw my sister and I screaming, acting like little girls, and yelling "fire in the hole", and throwing water around was probably pretty amused.
It's been one of those days that I am wayyy too excited to let my head hit the pillow. Good night for now!
Moving on...After both of my children double teamed me and picked my BBQ chicken and started eating it...and wiping their sauce covered, sticky hands, all over my leg and my couch I eventually got both babies into bed, and as my sissy and I were listening to them whine, whimper, and laugh, and giggle, and then eventually whine and whimper some more (notice I didn't say they were sleeping at this point, they are not, currently they're making some gurgling nosies). I decided it was time for popcorn. I opened the pack and read the instructions (it said three minutes) and put it in the microwave for three minutes. With about 21 seconds to go I smelled this awful burning smell from the microwave. I raced over and pulled out the popcorn. There was smoke billowing out of the bag and I threw it outside on the deck and Natalie dumped water on it. It may have been one of those situations you had to be there for, but I think if any my neighbors saw my sister and I screaming, acting like little girls, and yelling "fire in the hole", and throwing water around was probably pretty amused.
It's been one of those days that I am wayyy too excited to let my head hit the pillow. Good night for now!
Saturday, April 6, 2013
Alex, Daniel, and Mommy Meet Officer Pablo
Anyone who knows me will say that I have come a VERY long way in the ability to control myself when I have a run in with a situation that is stressful or makes me angry over the past four or five months. Letting go of the things that bother you is much better then holding on to them, and is the key to a much healthier and happier life. That being said, I definitely have my moments that can be called "Erica 0-60 in under 5 seconds". At this point my anxiety takes over and I'm off. I work hard to control it, but the other day I was failing at control, while driving home from a friends house, so I picked up the phone and called my best friend and closet thing to a sister I will ever have, Natalie.
As I was struggling to hide my feelings from my sons in the back seat, I saw the lights of Officer Pablo in my mirror. I said a quick "Oh shoot, gotta go" and dropped the phone into the center console, hoping against hope he missed the cell phone or I could charm my way out of trouble. (I'm darn good at this, at least I used to be. I avoided 13 speeding tickets until my daddy bought me a convertible and a beach trip got off to bad start with a speeding ticket. After that they just think your full of it when you cry and act a fool, and claim you normally are more careful, had to pee, etc...My list of excuses goes on and on).
"I'm officer Pablo with the ________ transportation authority police. I pulled you over this evening because your headlight is out and you were talking on your cell phone. License and registration please"
I handed over my information and was so thrown off when he asked me if the address on my license was correct I said no. (I moved around quite a bit in college and never changed my license from my parent's address and have let it go for about hmmm... eight years now). Unfortunately, the state I reside in likes you to take care of it in thirty days of moving. I was honestly too over my day to even care that I got pulled over. All I could think was my driving record was currently the cleanest its been in years and my steadily decreasing car insurance rates were about to skyrocket.
In the mean time Alex and Daniel were crying when the officer walked up to the car and immediately stopped and started yelling "Hi, Hi, HI,HI,HI" out my open window, until I finally opened Daniel's window and let him say hi to the officer. (The yelling continued until Officer Pablo finally acknowledged them gave a quiet "Hi". He clearly is not a parent.
At this point he walks back to his car and I finally decided to start crying really started getting into it. Where I live the warnings used to be a narrow, long piece of paper and tickets were wider and on a different paper. It's been a couple years, so I didn't know there was a change and started crying harder when I saw the wide piece of paper in his hand. When asked why I was crying, the emotions of the day took over and I responded with "My life freaking sucks (even though it defiantly does not, just how I was feeling at the moment), and continued with some other unintelligible things. I think he thought I was crazy and couldn't wait to hightail it back to the safety of his cop car. so he said "it's just a warning just be careful and don't talk on your phone, and fix your headlight. I pretty much wanted to kiss Officer Pablo at this point (I didn't in case your wondering). I drove home, bathed my children, and thanked god for another day with my beautiful family and friends.
Another end to a day in the life of a happily single, working women + 2.
Hope everyone has an amazing night!
Erica
As I was struggling to hide my feelings from my sons in the back seat, I saw the lights of Officer Pablo in my mirror. I said a quick "Oh shoot, gotta go" and dropped the phone into the center console, hoping against hope he missed the cell phone or I could charm my way out of trouble. (I'm darn good at this, at least I used to be. I avoided 13 speeding tickets until my daddy bought me a convertible and a beach trip got off to bad start with a speeding ticket. After that they just think your full of it when you cry and act a fool, and claim you normally are more careful, had to pee, etc...My list of excuses goes on and on).
"I'm officer Pablo with the ________ transportation authority police. I pulled you over this evening because your headlight is out and you were talking on your cell phone. License and registration please"
I handed over my information and was so thrown off when he asked me if the address on my license was correct I said no. (I moved around quite a bit in college and never changed my license from my parent's address and have let it go for about hmmm... eight years now). Unfortunately, the state I reside in likes you to take care of it in thirty days of moving. I was honestly too over my day to even care that I got pulled over. All I could think was my driving record was currently the cleanest its been in years and my steadily decreasing car insurance rates were about to skyrocket.
In the mean time Alex and Daniel were crying when the officer walked up to the car and immediately stopped and started yelling "Hi, Hi, HI,HI,HI" out my open window, until I finally opened Daniel's window and let him say hi to the officer. (The yelling continued until Officer Pablo finally acknowledged them gave a quiet "Hi". He clearly is not a parent.
At this point he walks back to his car and I finally decided to start crying really started getting into it. Where I live the warnings used to be a narrow, long piece of paper and tickets were wider and on a different paper. It's been a couple years, so I didn't know there was a change and started crying harder when I saw the wide piece of paper in his hand. When asked why I was crying, the emotions of the day took over and I responded with "My life freaking sucks (even though it defiantly does not, just how I was feeling at the moment), and continued with some other unintelligible things. I think he thought I was crazy and couldn't wait to hightail it back to the safety of his cop car. so he said "it's just a warning just be careful and don't talk on your phone, and fix your headlight. I pretty much wanted to kiss Officer Pablo at this point (I didn't in case your wondering). I drove home, bathed my children, and thanked god for another day with my beautiful family and friends.
Another end to a day in the life of a happily single, working women + 2.
Hope everyone has an amazing night!
Erica
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Friday, April 5, 2013
Mommy Mishaps, Missed Turns, and Murphy’s Law, and General Chaos:
Mommy Mishaps, Missed Turns, and Murphy’s Law, and General
Chaos:
How many of my mommy friends out there have been driving
down the road, the children are in the back seat, normally screaming, yelling “Mommy,
Mommy, MOMMY!!!” over and over, and eating random snacks they found in the car
seat, leftover from last Sunday’s ride to church? I know we have all been
there. Then there is the moment you realize you were too busy multi-tasking in
your head to remember the correct turn you have to take to get to daycare, to
pick up the kids, so you can take them to the doctor, stop and pick up dinner
at the grocery store, with all three of your children whining that they want
this and that, and getting mad when you say no. How many of you get to a stop
sign some days, and realize you have no idea where you are? How many times have
you planned to run to the store and forgot the diaper bag, and whoops, there's a
blow out? This is my list of my favorite adventures in mommy hood thus far,
where I cannot do anything but shake my head, laugh it off, and keep on moving
forward.
1.
“ Where’s Mommy?”: Prior to having children I
have always had a hard time remembering where I am going while driving if I am
in a routine and don’t have to think about where I am going. Today, on the way
to pick up my children from a friend I was so busy thinking about the rest of
my night I realized (when I got to a stop sign) that I was headed to my parent’s
house instead of my friend’s house..Opps.
2.
“Failure to Launch”: About three weeks ago, I
was supposed to be picking up my son’s godmother and driving to Washington DC
for the day. As I pulled up to the daycare provider’s home, I realized I had
gone the opposite direction I intended to go. Another fail on my part.
3.
“Better Late than Never?”: Normally I work at 6:30 am, so I leave my
house by 5:30am. On Thursday’s I don’t go to work until 7:30 am and don’t have
to be there until 8:30 am. I am always late, so you can imagine how good I felt
when I got out of the house around 5:15 am and was thinking I would be on time
for once. That’s all fine and good, except it was Thursday and I had to turn
around (after arriving at the daycare) and go home for another couple hours. In
this time, the boys and I fell back asleep and were still running late when we
woke up. My parent friends out there can relate to the pain of waking a
sleeping child. That S*** hurts. No matter what, we love our children, but we
really love our sleeping children.
4.
“A Well Padded Experience”- Murphy’s Law: About
two Friday nights ago, I decided to go to the mall with a friend and my boys.
My brain, being that it is slightly overwhelmed with everything that goes on
inside it, forgot the diaper bag. Not only did I forget it, we were an hour
from home, it was getting late, and Alex got a bad case of the poos. Diaperless,
an hour from home, and lacking any nearby store that sold diapers, I went into
a gas station hoping to find a small pack of diapers, even the wrong size would
do at that point. Nope, no diapers. Desperate times call for desperate
measures. What did I do? I bought a pack of pads and a little pack of wet wipes
for hands and improvised. Will I tell my son he ever wore a pad? Of course not,
but now that the situation has passed and I have stopped beating myself up over
forgetting the diaper bag, it is a funny story that I will think about whenever
he is driving me crazy in his teenage years and have a chuckle over.
5.
I’d like to call this one “S*** hit’s the fan at
the National Zoo”. I realize many of my experiences seem to involve poop, but I
think this is a standard par for the course. Slightly out of control bodily functions
are expected and normal with young children. Upon arriving at the national zoo, we discovered soon after heading down the Asia trail
that Alex had yet another one of his quickly becoming famous number 2 escapades.
After running through the zoo to the nearest gift shop to buy new, overpriced
clothing, all I can do is apologize to the fishing cats along the Asia trail
and hope they don’t think too low of humans and their bathroom habits!
6.
“Nudity is Normal”: At least where my little
boys, and many of my friend’s children are concerned. The daycare provider that
keeps my sons requested onesie’s be on my children at all times. Otherwise,
they will strip down at naptime, diapers and everything, and I’m sure I don’t
have to explain what happens when a baby takes his/her diaper off. With this
phase, along with potty training, has come the discovery of one’s self, as I
will put it to be gentle. As a friend’s mother put it, “they never stop playing
with it. They only get worse as they get older’. Wayyy too much to think about
with my boys. I think they figured (as they decided to streak naked, through
their birthday party), that it was only appropriate to wear their birthday
suits to their birthday party!
7.
“Sunday Fun day”: It seems like Sunday mornings tend
to be a rough time in our household. It’s all fine and good until after
breakfast, then an invisible dam breaks and it’s a circus act from that point
forth until we arrive at church and the boys see their beloved Aunt Paula and
Uncle Kenneth. (Remember to my friends reading this, your names have been
changed), and life is good again in the world of Alex and Daniel. I’m having a
hard time picking just one experience, so here are a few Sunday morning
experiences.
a.
The most recent would be Easter Sunday. The boys
were actually, quite well behaved as their father was visiting and helped get
them ready. Once in my car and alone with mommy, the screaming and crying, and
our recent line, “I walk, I WALK, I WALKKKKKK!!!” started in. This is the time I normally
turn up the radio and practice my ignoring skills (which have gotten pretty
amazing). Everything was fine once we
arrived at church, until the children’s sermon. After the sermon, my son Daniel
decided to make a run for the alter. I took his hand to redirect him, and he
threw himself down in front of the entire church and was kicking and fighting
me. Thankfully, he did not scream and yell, but nothing says embarrassment like
being sprawled out on the floor in the front of the church, fighting with your 31-pound
two-year-old, midway through the Easter Sunday Service. Praise Jesus I had decided to change out of the dress I started in that day. WWE smack down at the alter is bad enough without showing the world your lady parts.
b.
I think my other favorite Sunday morning episode
was mother’s day 2012. I got both boys ready for church. They looked oh so
handsome. I decided to make the decision to let them feed themselves while I
got ready myself. (Totally dumb move and an amateur mistake. Parenting is defiantly
a learning experience at every step). I heard a crash and realized Daniel had
thrown a bowel of cereal and milk across the room. I cleaned up the mess, grumbled a bit to myself
and hauled the kids out to the car. Fast forward to church. As I lean over to
put Daniel’s shoes that he took off and threw back on, my new Iphone crashed
out of the diaper bag and hit the pavement and totally shattered. At that
point, I was done. Aunt Paula and Uncle Kenneth spent church with the boys, while mommy drove around to avoid a totally loss of sanity.
c.
Lastly, as far as pre church related incidents
go would be the fried rice incident. I had gotten Chinese food for my children
the night before. My children will eat almost any hot and spicy food or food of
any origin (sometimes things that are not food as well). While I was changing a
diaper, the other baby opened the fridge door and got my greasy pork fried rice
out of the fridge and dumped it everywhere. To make matters worse as I ran into
the kitchen, (clearly not thinking the floor that I washed the night before
would be slippery) and busted my butt on the slippery, greasy, kitchen floor.
What can you do at that point besides pick yourself up, stick the kids in the
car, head to church, and spend the service praying you don’t wring their necks?
(For the record, that is a joke. I never want to, and never have, and never
will, cause physical harm to my children).
8.
“Lack of Common Sense Meets Baby Brain”: When my
children were about one week old I was staying with my parent’s and had to walk
the dogs while my parents were at work. My children are twins, meaning that
they were tiny, they didn’t want to eat right, and as a result, they defiantly were
not sleeping right. I can honestly say I would not have survived the first two
months of my son’s lives if it were not for my wonderful support system. Anyway,
back to my story. I laid the babies in their bouncers and strapped them in. I
figured I could leave the garage door open and the main door leading to the
house and still walk the dogs and hear my children. This was a wonderful idea…until
the wind blew the door shut and someone forgot to unlock the door before she
went out it. After a few minutes of trying to break into my parent’s house in a
panic, I remembered my parent’s neighbors had an extra key. This was awesome,
as I would not have to call the fire department or worse my mom or dad and ask
them to come home, therefore leaving my babies alone for a long period of time, or end up being murdered by my mother for my stupidity.
Keep in mind at one week of my children’s lives I hadn’t brushed my hair in about
a week, my teeth for about twenty four hours, or showered in about four days. I was in pajamas, and had no
shoes on, and had to walk myself down the road to get the extra key. That was
one walk of shame I hope to never repeat, and I can say I have not since.
I think the bottom line is that parenting is hard
work. It’s stressful, scary, frustrating as heck, and a lot of pressure knowing
that you are solely responsible for another person’s survival. Parenting is
also a wonderful experience. There is nothing better than when on e of my boys crawls
into my lap to read a story before bedtime or says, “Mommy I love you”. It can
be difficult learning how to deal with the frustrating times, and the times our
children make us angry. It takes some longer than others longer to develop the
coping skills to let their children’s tantrums and cranky moods roll off our
shoulders and let them go. As a counselor of a parenting group therapy class
and someone who has struggled with learning patience for my children, I think
the best things to remember are that the worst tantrums will make for the best embarrassing
stories when our children are older, and that with a little love, patience, and
understanding our children will grow up to be the best they can be and will always
know they have their families to count on.
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