So far, so Good

Yesterday went off without a hitch(with the exception of Arwen and she's doing well). It was a relief, but I don't know how long this calm will hold before the storm. Thank you everyone for your well wishes and support. Sometimes just knowing other people understand makes you feel like less of an anomaly.

Tania - to answer your question - this is more than ongoing. Since the birth of our second child, there has been tension in the family. It boils down to one thing really - control. My Mother wants total control when it comes to my children. She wants to decide when she gets them (without notice), where she takes them (without prior consent from us), and how long she keeps them (she'll drop them off when she is good and ready). That is the root of the problem, along with Jimbo's refusal to allow this to continue.

I didn't blog about it but the day before my Aunt passed away my Mother pulled the shame old garbage. She showed up at my home unexpectedly (while Jimbo was at work I might add) and told me she'd made a doctor's appointment for Annabel for her skin (she's got eczema too). At the time I had a stomach bug and told her we'd have to reschedule (and to be fair, I didn't feel my daughter needed to go to the doctor). She forced the issue, threatening to take Annabel by force if she had to. At that point I told her to leave and explained I didn't feel well to start. So she pulled her favorite threat from her pocket, "I call the police and report you for neglect!"

Long story short - I guzzled some Imodium for the upset tummy and made the trip. And guess what? The doctor said Annabel was absolutely FINE and nothing was wrong with her.

I decided after that incident I didn't want her around anymore, but then Laura died. Her unexpected and untimely passing reminded me of just how little time we are given in this world, and I forgave but didn't necessarily forget.

Now this has happened.

To be 100% honest here, I think my Sister and Mother are suffering from a chemical imbalance. Their elevator doesn't go to the top most of the time.

I can't recall the number of times my Sister has called here complaining my Mother did this or that (her arguments always revolve around money. My Sister is currently in the market for a new vehicle but as she doesn't work, she expects my Mother or her fiance's family to provide for her) and then spends an hour whining about how bad she has it or how wrong it is my Mother purchased something new for herself when, "I need a new car!"

Did I mention my Sister currently drives a 2003 Lincoln Navigator?

There are many differences between us but I'll name a few so you get a general idea of the seperation.

I cook - they eat the fast food window. I do laundry - they purchase new clothes to avoid it. I am on a budget - they are constantly struggling with money. I stay at home with my kids - they are always on the road somewhere. I shop for my clothing and such at Target - they both have credit cards to various stores in the mall.

And then you have the big difference. They'll say and do whatever it takes to get what they want. They don't care if they hurt your feelings in the process. In fact, if they are angry enough, that's exactly what they go for - the gut. Nothing is sacred.

Lice - I hate you!

Ode to Head Lice

It starts as a tingle
And becomes a scratch
Your children start to complain
Then they start to thrash

Oh No, you say
Please god don't do this to me
You pull out the Robi comb
And oh boy guess what you see

Nasty ass critters
Taking shelter in your childrens heads
Now it's time to clean
So you go and strip the beds

Next comes the fun part
Time get the husbands help
Listening to your children scream and yell
As you nit pick their little scalps

But the best is yet to come
Don't get comfortable yet
Three weeks worth of diligence
Ain't exactly a sure bet

Because these disgusting bastards
Don't simply thrive to piss you off
They are a creation that given the opportunity
Will survive a nuclear holocaust

I've nit picked and combed
Barked and bitched
Finally getting my children clear
When my head starts to itch.

Now that my poem is out of the way - I'm not afraid to say it damn it, so why am I hesitating? Bah! Our house has started all out war with head lice. We got rid of the little fuckers and they are back. This time with reinforcements.

When we are back to our normal lives and I'm not running the washer and dryer night and day, I'll be able to blog again.

That Does It!!!

All last week I begged, I pleaded, I explained and I even went so far as to show my daughter and sons how to clean up after themselves. I told them repeatedly that if they didn't make the effort to clean after themselves, I was throwing their things directly into the trash.

Today was a long day, full of crying and fussing, arguments and tantrums. Then at nap time they wouldn't go down, waking Annabel. I walked up the stairs and was greeted by the biggest mess the world has ever seen.

And I snapped.

I walked downstairs and grabbed several trash bags and proceeded to Arwen's room where I started grabbing and stuffing anything and everything I found. She asked me what I was doing and I responded, "teaching you a very valuable lesson". She started screaming and yelling so I did what she had coming, I busted that hiney and then returned to my task.

I have emptied her room of every object laying on the floor out of place, including her video games. They are currently sitting in garbage bags. I have decided that we will NOT purchase anymore toys for any of the children. The boys rooms are next as well as the playroom.

Their next shopping excursions over the next couple of months will entail good behavior in exchange for ONE thing. And if they keep making messes I will continue to bag it up. I'm sure the goodwill has plenty of children who would love to take advantage of my children's wastefulness.

Other side of the Fence

Today the AC repairman came out to replace our system. I'd promised when he arrived I'd take the kids to pick a DVD at the store to keep them out of everyone's hair. We packed up and drove to the local Hollywood Video.

I was nervous as this was the first time at this particular store with all the children. Arwen and Logan held hands as I held on to Vincents and balanced Annabel's car seat in the crook of my other arm. We went inside and walked to the children's section.

I had to reprimand Logan a few times for running off but for the most part it went very smoothly. When we'd made our selections we took them to the counter. I was thinking to myself that it looked like I'd survive this trip unscathed. Of course it was around this time my 3 year old decided to bitch slap me back down to reality.

I was paying when Vincent saw the gumball machine. I walked around the edge of the counter and told him I didn't have any quarters and it was time to go. Arwen pulled out a dime to try in the machine and I explained it wouldn't work. Meanwhile this pisses Vincent off even more as he wants a gumball and Arwen is touching the machine (he's having sharing issues now, with everyone but Annabel).

This resulted in a full scale meltdown. He began thrashing and screaming (just like last time) and I stood mortified. I told Arwen to take Logan's hand, it was time to go. As I grabbed Vincent he decided to use his dead weight trick on me and dropped to the ground. His screams echoed through out the store and I felt myself getting hot from embarrassment.

Then suddenly I'd had enough. I sat Annabel down and handed Arwen the bag with the videos inside. I instructed her to grab onto Logan's hand because we were leaving. I walked over to Vincent, wrapped my right arm around his waist, and hoisted all 40 pounds of him up. As I walked around the wooden security posts Vincent grabbed them with his arms and began kicking and screaming. He kicked Arwen in the face and she began to cry. I made sure she was ok before telling her we had to get to the van. She wiped her tears and walked over to Logan and took his hand once more.

I turned to the video clerk and asked if he had a video camera handy. He laughed and said no and I said it was a shame because he had the opportunity to shoot the most influential birth control video the world has ever seen.

After pulling on him Vincent lost his grip on the posts. I hurried over to Annabel who was waiting patiently (god love her) and I picked up all 25+ pounds of her and carseat and began walking to the door. (This is harder than when I normally carry her because I was forced to hold her with my hand and arm only, instead of resting in the crook of my arm, it's very difficult to carry her and even more difficult to carry her for more than a minute) Arwen opened the door while also keeping a hold on Logan and I walked out. I carried Vincent to the van before putting him down. By this point he'd calmed and had stopped screaming and fortunately the short walk from the store to my van had cooled me off as well.

I guess this is karma's way of biting me in the ass for all those times I've seen wild children in public and thought to myself, "why does that parent let that child act that way??". If any of those parents felt like I did today then believe me, they were absolutely mortified. I couldn't get out of that store fast enough and if I weren't surrounded by patrons I'd have loved nothing more than to bust Vincent's tiny hiney.

I don't know what I'm going to do with him. He can be the sweetest boy in the world and he's so nurturing and loving with Annabel. But he's also capable of being so angry and loud when he's frustrated. It's impossible to calm him during one of his breakdowns.

One things for certain. I won't be returning to the video store again when he's with me. I don't want to be known as the woman who's kid goes apeshit in the store over gumballs.

Almost forgot. I've been keeping tabs on scoreboard but haven't posted it. So to update:

Summer Scoreboard:

Mom=10
Kids=8

IT'S.A.BOOB

I got some delicious "hate" comments from someone on youtube. The video was in regard to an Applebee's nurse in that took place in Kentucky. Seems that a Mom was asked to stop nursing her child when she had the legal right to do so. So to bring awareness to this issue a nurse-in was planned and people were commenting about it.

One comment in particular saddened me as a Mom explained coming to tears as she nursed her child in the bathroom on the toilet. I responded to her:

Breastfeeding is a natural thing. I think people that view it perversely are the ones who should be shamed, not the Mothers who wish to provide nature's nourishment to her child.

With that said, provide me as a nursing mother with a private facility that is clean and NOT a bathroom and I'll be more than happy to go into another area to nurse.

If you won't eat your food off the toilet don't ask my baby to. Angel I am so sorry that happened to you. You and your child deserve better. I find it so amusing that any pro-breastfeeding comment is rated down.

I'm not surprised at this however. Some people cannot and will not look outside of their own little boxes.

Well a few months later an idiot responds to my comment, calling me a "feminazi" among other things, here read for yourself:

How do you know your not the one in a box. As a matter of fact, your in the minority on this issue. When my wife decides to feed our baby formula, and then sees a t-shirt on a baby that say, "formula is for pussies", we have a right to be pissed off. Why don't you feminazis get a life and stop trying to look for trouble.

This is exactly what is wrong with our society. We clump all people into one category when we either disagree with them or don't understand their choices. Then to put the cherry on the cupcake we name call.

I hope this guy is more respectful to his "wife". I'm curious if it is her decision not to breastfeed or if this gentlemen requested she use formula.

Oh in case you're wondering, I responded with this:

First, name calling doesn't exactly frame you as someone who is knowledgeable about this issue nor does it make me consider you someone who is even worth the keystrokes to explain or define my rights and the rights of my child.

With that said, it's very irresponsible of you to clump nursing Mother's together based off of ONE person who decided to wear a shirt that gave a message that obviously offended you.

You are the one looking for trouble, with a huge chip on your shoulder too I might add.

Cellphones are the bane of Society

I have had it. Enough is enough.

I don't go to the movies to be surrounded by teens who are nowhere near the age of 17 yet walk right up and get tickets to the rated R movie "The Strangers". Whatever happened to carding people? Or being accompanied by an adult. I should have known it was only bound to get worse.

We got decent seats and waited for the movie to start. I noticed 90% of the audience looked to be well under the 17 age requirement with nary an adult in sight. The lights dimmed and the movie started when the cell phones suddenly popped out all around us.

You know, I don't know why people think they are so fucking special. Do they believe that movie patrons don't mind that they are ruining a show with their blue cell phone lights flashing in our eyes? Obviously some of them have some shame as they cover the phones with jackets or purses. If they do this then I would imagine they have some clue that the light is a distraction to others. Yet I got to watch my movie, intended to be viewed in absolute darkness, with the blare of cell phones instead.

When the movie was over I started to complain LOUDLY.

"I love paying good money to watch people text message! I consider that a good $12 well spent!"

At one point as we were walking out a teen whipped out her phone and started texting.

"See," I poked Jimbo and pointed. "Whatever happened to actually hurrying home to see what messages you have on something called an answering machine?"

Just as I said it, the teens Mother pops out her cell phone and begins texting herself.

"Welp, that explains it! Like Mother like daughter!" I say this loud enough for the Father/husband to look over at me. I glared at him until he turned away. Good thing, he can't defend the guilty can he?

This is what is wrong with our society today. Kids who have zero respect for others and instead have a sense of entitlement. Of course they do, they are learning by example.

I've told Jimbo I want to buy a cell phone jammer. I think it would be money so well spent. I'd love to just attend movies to watch the utter chaos that would erupt when people couldn't text message during a show. Now that would be entertainment!

You just don't get it

I've got some sort of bug. It's given me cold chills, diarrhea, a headache and all around funkness. I've been in the bed riding it out most of the weekend and just got out of the bed a short time ago today.

I get downstairs and my Mom calls. I tell Jimbo to tell her I'm still asleep. I don't feel like dealing with her at the moment. I hear him begin to tell her over and over again that he is caring for all 4 children as I don't feel well. This goes on for maybe 3 minutes before he gets off the phone.

"You know what she wanted??" he asks me. "She didn't even ask if you are ok, no sir, she wanted me to watch Zoe for her."

"What?" I'm not really surprised but I have to ask.

"Yeah, I told her I had all the kids and I couldn't handle 5 alone and she just kept saying over and over, "Zoe just loooves it out there and she wants to come visit sooooo bad", trying to make me feel guilty. I told her no twice before she took the hint."

A couple of hours later the phone rings. I reach for it and answer.

"Hello?"

"Hey, look I called Jimbo earlier and I just needed you to confirm to Zoe that you are sick and Jimbo said he couldn't watch her."

"You need to confim WHAT?" I ask back.

"That she can't come out, that I'm not lying about you being sick."

"Wait a minute, you HAVE to CONFIRM to a child that what you say doesn't go?? Yes I am sick, no Jimbo cannot watch her today."

"That's all I needed."

She hangs up the phone. She doesn't ask if I'm ok or how I'm feeling.

She didn't call to confirm shit. She knows I can't say no and that I always give in. Unfortunately for Zoe, I feel like crap and cannot watch her today, forcing me not to offer to let her come out.

My Mom pisses me off so badly.

Late Night Worrying and Ranting

"Mommy, I have a lump in my neck too." Arwen walked up to me and motioned to her neck.

"Really?" I played along. "Where?"

"Feel, right...here." She pulled on my hand and placed it on the same side, same spot of my surgery.

I gently felt around and thought I was imagining things, so I felt again...and again...and my heart sank. She has a lump that is almost the same size in almost the same exact location of the one I just had removed.

I have to see the surgeon again in a week and I'll be making a dual appointment for her and myself. I thought I was worried before when this happened to me but I had no idea how worried I could be about something. It's 20 times worse when it's your child.

She's had issues with her tonsils and we'd planned on having them removed this summer. I'm thinking that if the surgeon feels a biopsy is necessary I can request they do both while she is under anesthesia.

It's 3:19 am and I've tossed and turned all night long. I wish it was for the reasons related to myself and not my little girl.

To make matters worse, I got a phone call this afternoon from the school I'd registered Arwen at. While not in our district I was assured that if the class was not at capacity she would be more than welcome (understandably they have to service the children in their zone first). I knew I'd be getting the call to tell me whether or not there was room in the class.

Let me start by saying the principal is an ass, I already knew this. He was a teacher for years at this same school and eventually got the job of principal. He's very well known by all the parents because he's very well despised (by his former students, now parents to his new batch).

He pissed Jimbo off not too long ago when he dropped Logan off at school one morning. He didn't have work that day and was wearing a t-shirt, blue jeans and driving his truck (which looks like something a crazy teen would drive - tinted windows, etc). He pulled up, got out and ran to the passenger side to take Logan inside. Mr. S saw this from the office and rushed outside.

Mr. S : You cannot park here.

Jimbo : I'm not, I'm just dropping him off.

Mr. S : Don't park here again.

Jimbo : I'm not parking, I'm dropping my son off...

Mr. S : Sir, this is a no parking zone, do not park here again or you will be fined.

Jimbo: .....

Then the next week Jimbo did the exact same thing, only this time he was in our Camry, in his work clothes (slacks and dress shirt). Mr. S walks right on by and never says a word.

So when he calls today, this is how the conversation goes.

Me: Hello?

Mr. S: I'm calling to speak to Arwen's parents.

Me: This is her Mom.

Mr. S: I have here that you registered Arwen to attend 1st grade here next semester. (note, he doesn't ask he informs)

Me: Yes sir.

Mr. S: We're not accepting anyone from outside the district into the classroom.

Me: Oh, so you're at capacity this year?

Mr. S: No, we're just not accepting anyone outside the district.

Me: I'm confused, I was told that if you weren't at capacity...

Mr. S: It's not personal, nothing against your child but we're not accepting children outside our district, she will have to use your own zone.

Me: I'm not sure if you're aware but the major reason we'd hoped to register her at your school is so she can attend the same school both of her brothers do. My oldest son is a student of Ms. F and has been since last year.

Mr. S: It's not personal but we're not accepting children outside the district. Thank you.

*click*

The fracker hung up on me.

Now. I know school's only have so much room. I knew Arwen might not get into this particular one. But this man talked down to me, treated me like an idiot and then had the audacity to hang up on me. Perhaps the fact that a majority of his parents don't have a college education is his excuse for being so arrogant. Perhaps he is used to intimidating other people because he thinks he is smarter and more cunning. But I'm not one of them and I refuse to be treated so callously by him.

So the next time I go to the school I plan on walking up to him, introducing myself and asking him to explain exactly why my daughter can't attend the school. I'm pretty sure he won't be so ballsy when he's looking me in the face.

I'll save the drama with my Momma (lol drama with my Momma!) for tomorrow. This entry has enough of that as it stands.

Mortified

He was great at Wal-Mart so I expected no different at the video store. We walked inside and he ran to the gumball machine. I watched him from the corner of my eye and told him we'd get one before we left.

Then he began throwing his tantrum.

His screams echoed throughout the store. I tried ignoring them at first, hopeful he would just follow me as I continued walking but instead he threw himself into the floor in a full out fit. I walked back to him and told him to stop, it did no good. So I put Annabel's car seat (with her snugly inside) on the ground to grab his arms and get on face level.

"Stop right now." I said in a firm voice. My temper was starting to rise as did my embarrassment.

When this didn't work I grabbed him by the hand to lead him to the video I wanted. I knew exactly where it was and all I had to do was to grab it and go. This wasn't to happen however as he immediately threw himself to the ground, his body dead weight. I struggled to pull him and carry Annabel before finally reaching the other side of the store. I felt eyes bore through me and tried to keep my cool.

Suddenly Vincent spotted a Thomas video and immediately stopped. He stood and rushed over and was back to the sweet loving boy I know. We quickly made my selections and hurried to the front. Vincent was pleasant as I paid and I placed Annabel just over the line with DVD's in her seat to quickly buy a gumball for her brother.

A orange one came out and this led to another fit as he wanted the white one. He began to scream and tantrum yet again. I regretted my decision to be nice and watched as he threw himself into the floor and began his thrashing, kicking so hard he lost his shoe. I grabbed the shoe and tried to place it onto his foot after this I pulled him around to Annabel to try to leave. This is when he played his little dead weight trick on me again.

As this occurred an older man was walking out of the store. He stopped to watch the show and I felt like asking him if he would like some popcorn. I was mortified, embarrassed and fed up so I did what I should have done in the first place.

I spanked his little hiney.

He continued to cry but he followed me as asked out to the van. I told him when we got home it was straight to bed for nap. And that is exactly what happened.

From here on out, when he tantrums like this, I'm not requesting he stop. I'm demanding it. I refuse to have my child behave like that.

Drives me Crazy

Riiiinngggggg...Rinnnnngggggg...RIIIIINNGGGGGGG!!!!!!!

"Damn it!" I growl as I climb out of the bed. I walk to the stairs and hear Jimbo grab the phone.

"Uhh, I think you just woke her up...yeah here she is..."

I round the corner and give Jimbo the evil eye, "Hello?" I ask.

"Hay! It's Mom, I'm at Wal-Mart, what was those chips you said Logan liked?"

Count to ten, I say to myself before answering, "He likes the pringles in the mini bags."

"Mom," I hear her say, "he likes the pringles. Ok, where are they?"

"Toward the end, on the left side." I sit down and hope to get off the phone.

"Cheetos, Doritoes, Pretzels..." she prattles on each bag she sees while keeping me on the phone.

"I'll call you back!" she tells me and I gratefully hang up the phone. I hurry upstairs to the restroom. I sit upon the throne, ready to do my business.

Riiiiinngggg...Riiinnnngggg...RIIIINNGGG!!!!

By this point I'm cursing.

"HELLO!?"

"Hay! Ok, I'm at the end of the aisle...little mini bags you said, I see a bag of other..." I begin my countdown to 10 again. Keep it together I tell myself. It's too early to blow your top.

"I'll call you back," she says again.

I hang up and wait for it. Fool me once and all of that. Good thing because within two minutes the phone starts talking again.

"Helloooooooooooo," I answer.

"We found them! Ok what was that other thing you said you needed to get, while I'm here?"

"That's all," the words rush out. "I have to go to the store tomorrow anyway."

"Are you sure?" she starts rustling through something at the store and it echo's through her phone mic.

"Positive." I say.

"Ok, we'll be there soon." She hangs up.

Great. Nothing better than unexpected visitors. And nothing better than unexpected visitors that call you and wake you on Sunday morning, your only day to sleep in.

Thanks Mom.

It's Only a Game

I try not to blog about Final Fantasy too often. I'm not exactly sure why. Maybe it's because I'm uncomfortable with it, even after years of playing. Don't misunderstand me, I'm not embarrassed that I play it's more of I'm uncomfortable having such strong emotions tied directly to something that is meant to be recreational and more importantly, is just a game.

Unfortunately for me, I have to blog about it, as blogging is my outlet to vent and express my anger, hurt and happiness. Recently for me the blogging in regard to it has been more from negative feelings than good and that made me truly question why it is I continue to play at all.

Back when I started, it was strange. A part of me enjoyed playing but another part of me felt so silly telling my friends or family about this other reality. When I'd make plans online and would have to decline offers to go visit or go out I could sense that little 'weirdness' people thought. But over time my family just accepted this as a part of our life and slowly it became less 'odd' so to speak. We played pretty seriously there for quite sometime, only in the past couple of years has our interest and enjoyment waned.

I suppose part of the change for us has been the people. That is the one aspect of MMORPG's I don't think many will ever truly understand unless they immerse themselves into the lifestyle. It's not just something you log into that you turn off as easily as hitting an off switch. The relationships and friendships take on their own life, just like they would if you meet someone in reality. And normally this would be awesome. It's a wonderful thing to meet and make new friends.

But there is a huge flaw, a flaw that makes it impossible to truly ever get to know anyone online. It's what I like to call the "behind the screen fearless persona". For people who have unhappy lives at home, who are depressed, sad, angry or jealous, for people who want to hurt others to build themselves up, online venues are just the right ticket. Here they can be whomever they want to be and no one, other than those they might know in real life, will ever know if it's the 'real' them or not.

Online these kinds of people can be vocal instead of quiet, angry instead of compliant, soft instead of hard or better still, hard instead of soft. They can do and say anything without fear of repercussions. There are no rules, no penalties, no moral codes. There is only you, the computer, the keyboard and the screen. What you choose to do is totally up to you. You decide how this story goes.

These past few months I've been struggling with one person in particular and as you can see from my entry below, it's about to come to heads. This woman who plays online is very manipulative, very cunning and she knows it. She plays a cool game and while I see her exactly for who and what she is, others have the blinds on and either cannot or will not see what is right in front of them. She plays a good game of manipulation. She is an emotional vampire as Lawfrog would say.

She has something to complain about each day. It ranges from her total failure of a husband who never helps her with their children, to having another migraine, to being totally stressed, to 'needing a break'. Yet she is online, each and everyday, for hours on end and she's a stay at home Mom who's youngest child is older than my oldest. I can be as symphathic as the next person but I realized long ago that people don't pay their money to hear my tales of stressful family woe. They don't care about my children, my heartburn or my lazy ass husband.

Still, each day she tells everyone her tragic stories, whether they want to hear it or not, whether you're a complete stranger or someone she actually speaks to. She also loves to play the 'one up' game too. So if you have a story, prepare yourself to be 'one upped' because she has something that was harder, sadder and more difficult than you could ever come to understand.

Her life you see, is pain.

I made the decision to stay clear of her when I found out about her many online 'relationships'. I know many people find love and happiness over the net but when you're a married woman with children it just seems wrong to me to play the field. I never told her this because she made a comment one day comparing her children to my own that put me so totally off I just avoided her completely thereafter. But if you've ever played and shared a linkshell or guild with someone, you know this is easier said than done.

Fast forward months later and now we absolutely hate one another. While I've never personally done anything to her months of not kissing her ass has made her resentful. She's one of those women that takes things one of two ways: You are for or you are against her. There is no middle ground.

I'm struggling with what to do about this. It's obvious I cannot continue to just let it go and hope for the best. There is no reason whatsoever for me to be unhappy doing something that is meant solely for the purposes of entertainment but at the same time I don't fork out our monthly fees to take it up the ass from this psycho bitch either.

I'll sum this person up with one example. There is a thread with members of our linkshell and their pictures. She posted a recent picture with 3 other women in which her hair was in a ponytail, she was blurry and in a very large t-shirt. She looked rather heavy in the picture and posted above it, "I've lost a lot of weight since then."

Then directly below that photo she posted a picture taken from her high school yearbook with her in 70's/80's western wear. She then said that she looked "like the older picture" just her "hair was different". She laughed that "I really need to take a new picture soon".

That alone tells me all I need to know about this person. How can she take responsibility for how badly her life has become or how unhappy she is if she cannot even move out of the past? And more importantly this tells me that nothing I say or do will ultimately mean shit because anything I say will trickle through one ear and flow right out the other. No one is going to make her comfortable in her own skin until SHE is comfortable in her own skin. Her own insecurities are going to be the cause of her inevitable downfall.

So it's only a game, a game with real people on the other side, or at least real people pretending to be 'real' people. Or better still, real people who wish they still looked like old glamour shots photo's.

(LOL The picture above is not of this woman, I suppose I could have been cruel and made it up to impose her character model on top of that high school shot of hers but I'm not that petty. This is just a random google'd shot I came across)

Not so much another day...

So much for the "Mornings" entry below!

I got ready to pick Vincent up at school. I was running maybe 3-5 minutes behind when I made my way with Annabel to the Van. I got her all buckled in, threw my purse into the passenger front seat, shut the door and ran to get in myself.

I popped in the key and turned...

Nothing. No click, no music from the stereo. The battery obviously dead as a doornail. Panicked I rushed inside for the truck keys in an attempt to jump the van off. I searched until I found them and ran to the truck. Then it hit me...I needed jumper cables.

I called Jimbo only to discover the cables are in the car...the car he drives to work.

DAMN.

I hurriedly called my Mother who rushed out of work to go get Vincent. Then I called the school to tell them about my battery. Poor little guy. He's going to be standing there, while his ride is over 30 minutes late for him.

I feel like such a bad Mother right now. Someone shoot me please.

Emotional Funk

First, the pictures above. My lovely youngest two fell asleep while I was cleaning the playroom. I snapped those just a few minutes ago. The one below is of a rose I made yesterday while playing with the kids and their play-doh. I'm getting rather good at it now, I made a kick-arse cat the other day. I'll take a picture next time.


Now for the juicy stuff. I'm in an emotional 'funk'. I'm trying to shake it off but it's hard. I don't know if it's because of my Grandma (who is going home today!!), the lost friend, or looking in the mirror and realizing that perhaps I'm not the best person I could be.

I've always considered myself a good person but a flawed one . Who isn't? I know I rub people the wrong way sometimes, I know I curse too much, I know I don't eat healthy most of the time, I know I have a fast temper, and I know I'm not always right. But I also love my children, husband, family and friends. I try to do the right thing when placed into a situation.

Today when out at the store this woman approached me who has spoken to me before. Annabel was with me and she asked the same exact question she did last time.

"What wrong with her face??" she asked. "She got rash?"

"No, she has eczema." I say back and try to put my items on the register.

"Don't you have medicine for that?" She staring at Annabel like she's got the plague and suddenly this anger rises up in me.

"Yeah, they have medicine," I spat. "But I figure why not let her suffer?"

The woman looked at me for a moment in a kind of strange shock before walking away to her own spot in the store. I immediately felt shame for snapping at her. I don't know why I was so angry over something so little. Maybe it's because recently I've had a hard time with Annabel's little body and face. She is so beautiful but she suffers when her break outs occur and there is nothing I can do about it. And it's very noticeable. It's only natural people would and do ask. Maybe I'm just tired of answering the same question over and over. Or maybe I'm tired of the stupidness of asking why I don't use something to get rid of it. Don't they think I would if I could??

I hate being in this funk. Maybe it's hormonal or maybe it's just stress. I've been getting these welt like little bumps in my hairline and I recently got an abscess in my mouth (want to talk about pain). I think I need something to give here but I'm not exactly sure "what". Hopefully I'll be back to my old fun loving blogging self soon. One thing is for sure, this is NOT me.

The Worst in You

There is always some person who has the ability to bring out the worst in you. Sometimes it's a person who has made you angry, provoked you or rubbed you the wrong way. Other times it's someone you've known for a long time and care for but the end result is still the same.

I hate it when I'm around someone like this. I don't like the person I become. I think I need to socialize with new folks.

Annoying Family

Today Jimbo's Mom celebrated her 60th birthday with a party at Aunt Joanne's. When we arrived we knew who was there by the cars. We got out of the van and walked inside but made our way to the back sliding doors since everyone appeared to be outside flying kites.

I grabbed Annabel close in my arms and opened the door as Logan, Jimbo, Vincent and Arwen headed out to greet Jimbo's Mom. I noticed Lori sitting in a chair, reading the paper.

I've written about Lori before and her husband Jay. Jay is the asshole who treated my daughter like shit after her birth. As I watched Jimbo and the kids I noticed Jay and Lori's youngest child, 18 month old Caleb, wandering to the side of the house. He was alone. Meanwhile Lori still had her nose in the paper and Jay is out shooting the shit with his Father. I glance around and see their oldest son JayJay (yes, son and father share the same name) sitting under the tree.

"CALEB!" I turn my head toward the voice, it's Jade (who is 11). I see her running toward him as now he is completely out of eye range. "Get back Caleb!"

"Thanks Jade!" Lori says, glancing up. "I was about to get up in a minute."

She turns back to her paper and leaves Jade to babysit her son. Jade brings him to the screened in area and goes back outside. I watch as he toddles toward the concrete stairs. I hope he doesn't fall and hurt himself but I refuse to be her childcare. I have my own children to care for. I sigh and walk away as this is nothing new.

When it's time to start the party homemade sloppy joes are up first and I'm making the plates for the kids, Aunt Joanne is helping. I see Jay carrying Caleb toward us but don't pay him much attention. "What is it?" Jay says to Caleb really loud. "You want you GRANDMA??? Huh? Do you? You want your Grandma??" It's obvious he wants Joanne to take the baby. Meanwhile we continue running around the kitchen trying to get things ready. Jay does this several more times before he gets the hint that Joanne is busy and sulks off.

I get the plates done and sit the kids down. "Oh, JayJay won't eat unhealthy food!" Lori exclaims! She rushes into the kitchen. "Joanne, do you mind if I horde some of your baby carrots? JayJay just loves them!" She grabs 3 of them out of the bag and makes the boy a plate consisting of 3 carrots and 1 piece of bread and sits it before him. As I'm bringing the plates to my children I finally sit down with them. We get halfway through when I notice JayJay hasn't touched his food, instead he's grabbing Arwen's chips off of her plate (so much for not eating unhealthy foods).

"LOOK! Watch me Arwen!" he yells. He eats several chips and chews them before opening his mouth and showing everyone his chewed up food. While he does this his parents (who are sitting right beside him) say nothing.

"JayJay, eww, don't do that please." I say. Then when Arwen starts to mimic him Jimbo reprimands her, "we don't do that", he says and she stops.Time for cake arrives and I hand the camera to Arwen since she uses it at home and I trust her. JayJay attempts to snatch it from her and I tell him no, he cannot play with it. Instead of listening to me he continues to reach and nab. I tell him no several times. His parents hear me but say nothing. Instead they sit across from us eating. Finally I've had enough and tell him loudly to stop, that he cannot and will not use the camera.

After cake it's time for presents. When we finish I'm sitting at the table. Jimbo has Annabel asleep in the living room. I'm talking to Mom and I decide to grab a sloppy joe. I sit down and I eat slowly as we talk. Suddenly Jay plops down his plate in front of him, across from me. Mom and I continue our discussion. Caleb toddles into the room and walks to his Father. He says, "Daddy" over and over and reaches his tiny arms up. He's invisible as Jay doesn't acknowledge him at all. Instead Jay finishes off his food and gets up.

I'm talking to Mom still when he returns. This time I see two very large 'lumps' that I'm sure consist of buns covered completely in sloppy joe mix. Jay sits down and grabs his fork and proceeds to dig in. I look at my own food and push it away. I'm not so hungry anymore.

"Jay, I thought you were on a diet." Mom says.

"Not today," he says with a mouthful of food. I guess that's where JayJay learned his table etiquette.

I leave the table and go into the living room. Annabel is awake. I hold her as the children play with one another. They stop in front of us and Jade gently tackles them around the waist and pulls them to the floor. JayJay wants in on the action and I watch in horror as he begins violently kicking. He almost kicks Jade in the face.

"Don't Kick!" I yell. He looks at me and goes back to playing. His Mother and Father are no where in sight. A few minute pass and JayJay kicks again. Jimbo tells him to stop. Then Caleb falls backward and hits his face on Logan's back. He begins to cry. Still his Mother and Father are nowhere in sight. I look at his face and he's fine. They play some more.

The final straw is when JayJay begins slapping the children. I'm tired of telling this absolute brat what to do. He's not my child. I'm tired of his lazy ass parents who come to family get togethers and birthdays and leave it to the rest of us to babysit. I tell Jimbo after I nurse the baby it's time to go.

These two people piss me off so much. They are not the worst parents I've ever encountered but they are still very shitty. They do this every time we are around them. And their oldest son is going to have so many issues as he gets older. They do not control him or make him show any respect. He's already out of control and he's only 5 years old.

I'm sorry for the serious entry. I'm so pissed right now I can't see straight. Especially when Jay was bragging about winning a 25 dollar gift certificate to O'Charleys and a 25 dollar gift certificate to O'Charleys is what my Mom got for her birthday when she opened her card. Cheap tacky bastards.

I'll blog about better things soon, I promise.

Tummy Hurts

One of the obstacles I face having an autistic son is communication. Logan can express his wants and desires now but he his responses are vague.

"More drink please."
"Poopie the pottie."
"Want Chips, Want Yogurt, Want Popcorn."

This is very frustrating when he doesn't feel well. I've noticed the last week or so he will point to his tummy at times and say, "Mommy, tummy hurt". I will go over and inspect his tummy and when I'm done he seems ok.

Today I got a note from the school. It's his first day back and has begun complaining about his tummy. I'm going to call the doctor and arrange to have him looked over. It's very scary when my child can't tell me how badly he hurts or exactly where the pain is coming from.

Beware the Ides of March

Apparently it's not enough that I get one peaceful day.

It started last night before bed. Bad weather began to roll in. The power went off and on, I woke up each time. Little rest later Annabel was up for the day and I climbed out of the bed with her. I came downstairs and perked up at the sight that greeted me. A beautiful table lined with gifts (I will post a picture later, I need to take pictures) and cake.

But when I came downstairs Logan was in the middle of a breathing treatment and when I looked out the window it had begun to rain again. I sat down and Jimbo wished me a happy birthday before the phone rang.

It was my Mother. She wished me a happy birthday and told me she couldn't get Arwen because of the weather but then she had a stroke of genius.

"Hey! I have an idea! Why don't I got get Zoe and pack up some bags and come stay the night there??!!??"

As usual I sat in silence. Because once again, on my birthday, my Mom puts me in a tight corner. What do I say? If I say yes, she will come here and expect to be entertained. I will have to run the children as usual while she plays Grandma. I will have to clean, cook and run ragged so she can put on the pretense of helping. I won't get to go out to dinner and if I do I will be hassled on the phone from her calling every 15 minutes, "When are you coming back?? Are you almost done yet??". Even worse, I won't be able to enjoy a drink or two at home afterward to celebrate, because my Mom detests alcohol.

But if I say no, she will get hurt and angry.

"Well...Jimbo had plans for me Mom. I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet..." my voice trails off as I don't know what to say.

She sits as she always does. I can feel the tension through the phone line. So she quickly goes into another area of attack.

"Well, if the weather clears I'm getting Arwen. And I'm telling you right now, I want her and all the kids next Saturday night."

"Why?" I ask.

"Because I'm taking them all to church service for easter."

"Uhh, Mom, we have plans that weekend. We have the company picnic on Saturday and then we have Aunt Joanne's house."

Now, we have went to Joanne's every single year, every easter, since the children were born. My Mother KNOWS this. My Mother never plans Easter. We've spent exactly one year at her house and it was ill prepared. At the last minute she was so pissed that we were having Easter at Joanne's she threw together her own. She called two days beforehand and told me we were expected to come because if we could go to Jimbo's family, we'd damn well better come to mine. We arrived to our children hunting eggs filled with little biblical relics because they were sold out of all the other eggs and such because she went shopping for things that morning at the last minute. The children became upset because she didn't have any food cooked or prepared, it was a nightmare.

I let out an audible sigh through the phone and said, "Mom, we do this every year, you know that."

"Well I want to start a tradition HERE." She begins to get huffy. "It's not fair..." and she starts in on her usual tirade. It's not fair she says, that we will spend time with Jimbo's family and not her. It doesn't matter that Jimbo's family plans this a full year before or that we've known about it for months. It doesn't matter that she has burdened us with her last minute planning and expectations.

This is the way my Mother is. Always planning things at the last minute, always expecting to come over, stay the night, have a get together. Always wanting to go to vital Dr's appointments but never having time off when help is needed here at home. Always wanting the children when out in public to show off and hurriedly passing them back off to us after no one is watching. Always wanting to be the center of attention, expecting equal rights, expecting everyone to function around what makes her happy. Always with her plastered fake smile and nosing in on other people's tragedies as a way to make people say, "isn't she such a great person," or "she just loves those grandbabies so much".

Even if it's on someone else's day.

This is why I don't get on well with my Mother. God help me. I love her, she is my Mom. But years of her abuse have left me bitter. She used to maintain such control over me. She used guilt to control me and make me afraid of the world. She taught me early on that she was my salvation and then yelled and ranted when I clung to her and was afraid to be away from her. She made me a mental case until I finally got married and learned there are other people in life you can trust that won't make you afraid to stand on you own two feet.

I don't know why she does this each year and I don't know why she does this on my birthday of all days. So now I have to make phone calls, find out when Joanne's party is, and make arrangements to go out of my way to a Easter thing at my Mom's that will be tossed together at the last minute, all because my Mom can't stand the idea of my children loving other family members more than they do her.

She always has to be number one. Always.

I'm becoming my Mother

The last few weeks it's been terrible. First it was throwing toys all over the basement, then it was pulling each and every DVD down from the shelves, then it was spraying drinks all over the floors and walls.

Then this week while I was dressing to take Arwen to the doctor (I was in my own bathroom, right inside the room!) the boys got into my closet, pulled down all the clothes from their hangers, pulled out all the folded slacks and sweaters and threw them all over the closet floor. It took over an hour to organize again, even with Jimbo's help. Then the very next day, they did the exact same to Arwen's closet, pulling down not only her clothes but her shoe boxes, toys and Annabel's things.

So today I should have known. I should have known my demon spawn would do something that would make me want to pull out my hair. And sure enough, they did. It was a beautiful day so I took them outside on the back deck of our home. They waited until I was nursing Annabel in the office so I wouldn't flash the neighbors, (they knew I could see part of the porch but not all of it).

The picture above is what greeted me when I was done nursing her. They have thrown all of their toys over the railing, again. (I know, it's not the first time, terrible isn't it?)

I'm gathering those toys and they are going in the garage for a month. I will no longer tolerate this from them. I've tried being nice. I've tried time outs. I've tried taking from them. I've tried yelling, I've tried talking, I've tried everything but down right busting some bums. I'm at the end of my rope. I cannot deal with this anymore. I truly believe something is wrong with my children. I've never met children who thrive so much on destruction. They do this each day with no remorse, no regret. They treat me like garbage and I'm not standing for it anymore.

Currently they are sitting on the couch. No television is on, no music, no toys or books in sight. Tonight they will not get to play around. Instead they will have a subdued night with a book reading before bedtime and little else. They are going to have to earn the right to play with toys and have a good time.

I'm going to do something I swore I never would. I'm going to become my Mother. I had a very healthy fear of my Mom and because of it I kept my ass in line. I knew what was coming to me if I didn't. I've had enough.

**edit. I decided to throw all the toys away (with the exception of Arwen's things they grabbed)

Son of a B*tch!!!!!!

First it was shoving cars in the vaccum (which ruined the tubing I might add). Then yesterday they ran into the office as I was changing Annabel and smeared the entire contents of a 16 oz bottle of Cetaphil lotion all over the office (on my desk, in my keyboard, on my papers, books, magazines) and then today while changing Annabel's diaper, they found her neosporin and quickly smeared it into the couch.

If they keep this up I am going to snap. I feel it coming on. Why are my boys so hell bent on destruction??? I truly believe that they are unlike any other children in the world. They are not happy unless something is broken or ruined due to them.

I've yelled, I've put them in time out, I've done it all. I'm really starting to believe the only way I'm going to garner any respect from them is if I start burning some little hides. I hate to resort to this but they have zero respect for me, my things or anything else in the house.

No wonder Arwen doesn't want the two of them in her room.

Acceptance

Right now I'm waging a terrible inner war. The logical side of me is losing out, the pride in me has the slight edge.

So what's the cause of this inner turmoil? Money of course. Money is tight in our house, especially right now. The logical part of me says, "Jaime. You live well. There are people out there struggling far worse than you, living with little to no food, in squalor. There are People who cannot clothe their children or pay the rent."

But then that pride in me says, "why can't you find the extra money to attend the bash? Do you want everyone at your daughter's school to think you don't care? You know people will notice you aren't there. Can you just go and bid on one thing? You really want that class quilt they made. You might not win it but you could try!"

And on the battle continues. I keep telling myself over and over most people who have children in this establishment are in a higher economical class than we. They have very lucrative employment. Most don't struggle with the little things...like money.

I hate feeling like this. Because I do love the simple things. I love my life, my children, my husband and my home. My children live a good life and don't go without. But still I am surrounded by those that remind me that as far as we've come, it still doesn't compare to others. For example. Arwens class has a quilt that is being auctioned. It has each childs' hand on it with a sea motif. I wish I could at least try to win it. But I know to have any shot at winning it, we'd end up having to get a small loan. We're bidding against people that have oodles of money. I won't be shocked to see it go in the thousands of dollars.

This bash thing they are holding, in my opinion, is insulting to some parents who are on a tight budget. They need to send out one flier or invitation and leave it alone. Let people RSVP and then send out all the letters each day with new items for auction, new people to honor and advertising what a "romantic night out" it can be for a couple to share.

Maybe I'm being bitter. I need a dose of real world, to help me see just how stupid this is, how petty. But I am human and it's human to want. Right? I don't know what's worse. Feeling like this or blogging for the world to see how shallow I am right now.