Mush Brain

I swear my brain turns to complete mush when I try to go out in public with my daughters. I took them to the library yesterday and sat there for two hours while my four year old played with a little girl and my 17 month old slept. Lucky for me, I was seated within eyeball view of the kids' dog section of the children non-fiction books. SO I briefly got up and browsed the different types of dogs and came to the conclusion that a Labradoodle may be the pup for me. They are so stinking cute yet big at the same time. Apparently a mix between a yellow lab and a Poodle. I love the unmanageable hair!


I noticed a stirring from the queen of 17 month olds. So I quickly remembered my life is hectic enough and shoved the book back in its place. Thinking I could keep her subdued in her stroller I quietly told Lily it was time to tell her new friend Emma goodbye. But of course Carly started screaming that she wanted down, Lily started whining that she didn't want to leave and I just sighed and slowly unclicked the stroller strap. What a mistake! Carly took off pulling books off of book shelves, destroying toys that normal kids would actually enjoy instead of ripping into pieces. I had a mini Godzilla on my hands and had to move quick.


As I impatiently told Lily that it was time to go NOW, she pulled out the oldest trick in the book. The creased eyebrow, the buckling knees, the grabbing of her crotch, she of course had to pee. I stood outside of the bathroom, peering around the corner to make sure Godzilla wasn't swinging from the lights by now praying that Lily would wipe, flush, not touch anything and wash her hands thoroughly and did I mention quickly?


When she screamed through the library that she went poopoo and I had to come help her wipe, I ran and grabbed Carly by the waist pushed the stroller with my boobs while juggling 10 books about the same princesses to the family restroom. I looked around at all of the staring eyes and just shrugged my shoulders and went into action.

We finally got checked out after being ignored for ten minutes and as this experience was not enough, we headed over to Target. My four year old insisted she was hot and dying of thirst and the only way she could think of to solve her problems was to have a slushie from Target. OF course it is conveniently placed at the front of the store, right in plain sight, no escaping the snack counter! So, being the thoughtful and mush brained mother that I am, I bought 2...yes 2 small slushies. No, I wasn't partaking in a delicious ice treat. I thought that it would be better if each of my daughters had their own this time. I averted a major disaster of fighting by buying 2 slushies. But little did I know of the disaster around the corner.


We were at Target because I thought the girls would like another blow up type pool thingy on the deck and assumed most of them would be on clearance since of course all of the stores think it is Christmas already. I walked through the aisle and Lily flicked her straw out of her slushie cup so that ten big drops of slushie landed right next to my shoe. I looked to the Target boy for help finding a paper towel and he very graciously offered to wipe it up. How horrible to make this minimum wage earning boy wipe up my daughter's mess. So I quickly said thank you and ran and hid in the frames department.


I saw Carly starting to pull her straw out of her slushie and I knew I was one step ahead of the 17 month old. I ran to grab her straw, she got pissed, I felt wet ice go through my shirt and no sooner than I think I can declare victory that the straw is now in my hand do I hear a loud smack and splash. There, on the white floor was her entire cup of now purple slushie. No wipe up boy this time. It was my mess, I would find the spill station on my own. I told Lily to wait with Carly (I know, did I mention I am up for mother of the year?) and I ran to the closest spill station, grabbed 50 kazillion paper towels and ran back to the frame aisle before anyone would notice. I dropped to my knees slopping up the mess as my kids laughed at me and kicked me in the face. I am only buying one, if any, slushies next time and I am holding the cup.

The Button-Eyed Girl

My 4-year-old has now made friends with her imaginary monster, the button-eyed girl. I made the mistake of letting her watch "Coraline" and for weeks she swore the button-eyed girl was trying to get her. We tried telling her she wasn't real, that we ripped her eyes out (you have to see the movie before you judge us). But she was not buying any of it.


So the other day after she disappeared into the dining room for a while, I overheard her talking to "someone". I looked over to my left and there was my other daughter, so I called to Lily to see what she was doing. She walked into the kitchen with a huge smile on her face and said "Mommy! The button-eyed girl is really nice and she is my friend now!". I sighed with relief knowing it was all going to better until she said, "The button-eyed girl doesn't like you and daddy and wants you dead." I couldn't believe it, where does she get this crap?


It reminded me of this made for TV movie "Don't go to Sleep". It is where the ghost daughter seeks revenge on her family for letting her die in a fiery car wreck and she rolls a pizza cutter up the stairs saying "I'll cut a piece for mommy and an extra big piece for daddy". This is right before she electrocutes the dad by pushing a radio into the bath. It is a freaking scary movie and excuse me now while I go hide the pizza cutter and unplug the radios that are conveniently right next to the bath tubs...

Here is the link to the imdb on the movie:http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0083844/ Don't say I didn't warn you!!

Friday!

Hell yeah, it's Friday! I am excited only because there is a slim chance that since the alarm won't be going off tomorrow that my toddler won't wake up at the ass crack of dawn. But that is another day...


I woke up and decided to get my hair highlighted. I talked to my sister and she said she could watch the kids if I drove them to her house. She didn't have to tell me twice especially not after Lily was pulling a bowl of popcorn one way and Carly the other and guess what happened next. Carly let go and I was basically decorated from head to toe in popcorn.


I have been toying around on a great photo editing site that I heard about through my 15 year old sister in law, so it must be cool, right? Do the kids even say cool nowadays? The hairdresser told me that her kids don't even use the home phone anymore, they just text. Can you believe it? What rock do I live under? Anyway, as I digress... the website is called www.Picnik.com
and it allows you to upload photos and then alter them to fix eyes, enhance them, change the focus, add graphics, fade out images, fix blemishes, and tons more. Some of the features are free, but to change the eye color and stuff like that you have to sign up and pay a fee. It is $24.99 for the year, which I thought was not too bad to make myself look younger, but check it out and let me know if you know of other cool photo editing sites.


Well, tonight is the night of all exciting nights! I get to go scrapbook my kids' lives for six hours in a store with my sister. I know, for some that doesn't sound that exciting, but I like it because it is a little bit of me time and I get to make progress on something I like to do. I feel like I am way behind on the scrapbook, but I plan on making a dent on that tonight. To any of you that live in the Eldersburg, MD area, they have a fabulous scrapbook store called Photoscraps and they even have their own blog on blogspot. On Friday nights they do crops from 6 pm -12 am and they serve dinner and snacks. My sister and I bring a bottle of wine and some cups which helps us ease into relax time.
Speaking of, I better go get my stuff ready and tend to the kids.I am getting demanded to give the little one a "bot", so that's my queue. Until next time...

The Exhaustion

So, it has been over a month and a half since I decided to quit my job and stay at home with my two daughters. This is a very drastic change for me, as I was leaving one of the nation's largest mutual fund managers as a database analyst and coming to be in what I saw as a thankless position.

Ironically, as I begin this writing, I just received an email from my husband thanking me for all that I do and for being the only person that is truly there for him, so it cannot be that thankless. But trust me, there are days where I question my decision and worry about our future and cannot believe how long I have been on my feet consistently. This truly is is one of the hardest jobs I have ever tackled. I feel lucky though.

There are several people who would love to be stay at home parents, who simply cannot afford it. But I am almost psychotic about budgeting and number crunching and have created umpteen spreadsheets just to make this work. We are living off of $1000 a month after our bills and regardless if we have more disposable cash than that we are sticking to the $1000 a month. I got tired of throwing away money on useless things, buying to ease depression, eating out because of exhaustion, letting someone else raise our kids...so we make it work.

I have an appointment to get my hair done tomorrow and I have never felt more guilty about it. I have been getting my hair done every 8 weeks and decided to do highlights a few times ago. Well, inevitably the highlights have grown to be about 2 inches from my scalp and I have a decision to make. Do I get my hair done and "treat" myself to something nice or do I forgo the luxury? I know this is a stupid decision to make and not that critical, but lately I have been feeling as if I lost my identity by staying at home.

There are days when I can't even shower until after 3...okay, every day I can't shower until after 3 or during nap time. When I finally do shower, I rush through it, shaving sometimes, and I jump out to grab the crying 17 month old not more than 4 minutes later! At least I was able to save some decency by grabbing my towel, but that too falls to the ground sooner or later. Then I rush to find something to wear, but I am out of any shorts that fit me so I grab these brown khaki shorts that make me wear my muffin tops proud. My four year old, no wait...4 1/2 year old according to her, walks in and tells me my clothes are ugly and that I need to put on a dress. (Hail to June Cleaver, but I think not.) Then the make up is easily passed by, not so much as a shmear of lip gloss to lighten my dullness. I jump on the scale just to add salt to the wound and run downstairs and begin dinner, hand out treats, change the laundry and read everyone's posts on facebook that I haven't talked to for the past 10 years.

Quotes from songs that nobody cares about, political rantings and an update of what they did in the past five seconds... every five seconds. Just to realize I don't have anything that is witty to say or do I care enough to post my own. I delete my cynical comment to other postings before I hit the comment button and then click on Bejeweled Blitz, the brainwashing game from hell. Just when I think I am about to beat my high score, I have to go back to serving drinks, being a short order cook, and changing the poopy diaper. After I have finally had enough, my baby comes up to me wanting nothing more than to hug me and kiss me in the first available spot on my body. It makes everything else disappear and gives me the refill of courage and strength I need to get up and start it all again.