Saturday, July 12, 2014

My Carpet Smelled Like Feet

It all started because I'd thought I give Yoga a try again. I so want to like it, but that's another post. So I get in Child's Pose, or Downward Facing Dog, or whatever it is that has be burying my nose in the carpet. I had a yoga mat once, but who knows which closet that is shoved into. ANYWAY...breathe in through the nose...sniff, sniff. Ew My carpet smells.

I have a dog, I have little kids, I have a husband, and all of these smelly creatures have caused an awful odor buildup. Never fear, I own a home carpet clean machine! Time to clean the carpets!

But I want to do this right so I pick up everything off the floor an start piling stuff on the kitchen table. Anything that's not furniture. And speaking of furniture, I wonder if the covers on my couch cushions are machine washable. Even if they're not I'm gonna try it anyway, because they kind of smell too. 

So, anything I can't lift moved out of the room, couch cushion covers in the wash, ready to vacuum. But maybe I should dust first before I vacuum. What good would clean carpets be if shelves are dusty? Get the duster! 

I go to the hall closet where I believe I last put the duster. Yup, there it is. I can see the handle poking out in between some rolls of wrapping paper and an empty shoe box that will one day serve a purpose. While struggling to get the duster out it dawns on me that this closet could use a good organizing. Then when I am putting everything back in the living room later, some of it can go neatly in the closet! Brilliant! Everything out. Hey! My yoga mat! 

Now everything that was in the closet is piled in the hall way. I start going through the stuff, setting aside things that I think I can junk or donate. Here comes Miss B. I've been at this for an hour now, accomplished nothing, and she's hungry. And she wants to help. That is one of the biggest mommy dilemmas ever. You want to be encouraging, but there help isn't help and you just want to get it done!

OKAY, lunch made, Sponge Bob on the TV and where was I?

Oh yea, cleaning out a drawer in my room to make space for stuff in the closet that I decided to organize while finding the duster to dust some shelves before I vacuumed my living room so I could steam clean my smelly carpet. 

Fuck it. Where's the Febreze? 

Thursday, July 10, 2014

On Hiatus

I took a break from Blogging. I took a break from internet life. Sorta. Because I admit to still being shamefully addicted to Facebook. But really, I was poking around Blogger and discovered alot of my page view traffic came from a porn site and that scared me. I hated the idea of creepy pedophiles looking at pictures of my kids. So there will probably be less of them going forward. But I don't want to stop all together, because this mommy community is important to me. It is so hard being an at home mom. My interaction with women who "get it" is limited. I have lots to talk about in posts to come!

Friday, February 14, 2014

The Mother of Meltdowns

All kids have them at some point. Meltdowns that is. For some reason, though, it seems like of all the kids I know mine is the only one I seeing have tantrums. And it is always so embarrassing. Well, recently, she had the mother of all meltdowns.

It started when we were invited to a play date at  the house of a friend she had made at school. I hate play dates in general. It is really because I also have to drag along the one year old and so I get to spend the whole time chasing him around a strange house (usually not baby proofed) while trying to make polite conversation. He is also going through a phase where he likes to put his hand down my shirt which usually ends up exposing a good part of my boobs to people. 

When we arrived at this house I knew we were in trouble. At this point Miss B was in a great mood and eager to play. We walked in the front door and this house was immaculate. Like, I wouldn't have know this woman had kids had there not been pictures on the wall. I'm still not convinced that they actually live in this house, or at the very least that they have a secret room I was not shown where that actually spend their time, because there is no way a house with a four year old could be that clean. 

And the kid's room looked like it belonged in a magazine or on a showroom floor. Her name was engraved on everything and the sheets matched the curtains and it was clean. Like CLEAN. 

So for the next three hours the girls played great. They are "best friends." The problems came when it was time to go. Like I said, we had been there three hours and I was starting to feel intrusive. I kept having images of her husband whispering to her as I chased Dimples around "when are they going to leave?" I gave the standard  5 minute warning and then told her it was time to go (like two minutes later, but whatever she can't tell time yet).

She flipped out. She started screaming "no! no! no! I don't want to leave!" I had to chase her around their unnaturally tidy house with dimples under my arm like a sack of potatoes at which point she crawled under the bed in their guest room. (another shot for Better Homes and Gardens). I grabbed her ankle and had to literally drag her to the front door. The husband graciously offered to carry dimples for me. I had no choice but to hand my son over to a man I'd only known a few hours while I used all the strength I could muster to force my 43 pounds 4 year old into the car. When I shut the door, she started screaming - like high pitched no words shrieking - at the top of her lungs. I went back to get dimples, and to further my humiliation, they decided to walk to my car with me to tell Miss B bye. Honestly it was probably something like watching a freak show for them. It's really bad, but you just can't look away. When we reached the car, Miss B had taken off her clothes (later she explained to me that she had gotten hot). 

I couldn't stop apologizing. I was so embarrassed. So mad I couldn't even talk to her on the drive home. Needless to say I will never hear from these people again.

Sunday, January 12, 2014

I Wish a Frog Would Eat My Brother

Oh how things have changed. I don't know why I can't seem to keep from bragging about my good fortune when it comes to parenting. Four and a half years into this gig and you would think I would have learned that just because things are good now does not guarantee they stay that way and talking about it will in fact guarantee they won't. 

Four months ago:

"How does she like being a big sister?" (as big sister gazes adoringly at her baby brother)

"Oh she loves her brother! And they get along really well. They hardly ever fight!"

Right after this picture was snapped he hit her across the head with that wrapping paper roll
Present day - Brother now walks:

"How does she like being a big sister? (as big sister covers her brothers face with her hand, which he then bites making her scream at levels pitched high enough to shatter glass)
"I wish a frog would eat my brother"