Sleepless in the Midwest...

Come the New Year, it's Ferber time for this little man. I obviously need more sleep. I mean, check out my morning and it was not yet 8:30:

I got up early, dressed both kids for the subzero weather, made and packed lunch for El, made breakfast and was out the door on time.

Got all the way to the school and let the girlchild off. Just as I'm pulling out, I see that she's mouthing something to me...the door is locked.

Yeah, it's locked, there are no other cars, and school is closed.

It's Christmas Break, you doofus.

Can I have a nap now?

My daughter: the hootchie

It even feels dirty to type this statement. But I must share with you why I make the statement I do.

For Christmas this yearI wanted to be the cool wife. Last year *I* got diamonds, so the man deserves a cool Christmas gift. And sex. Lots of sex. But that's more of a "Let's wait and see if we can make that my New Year's Resolution" instead. So cool gifts it is.

He's getting a plug-into-the-TV, all inclusive video game that does about 50 old school games: Centipede, PacMan, Donkey Kong, etc. I also sucked it up and signed him up to a year's subscription of FHM magazine. I wasn't even sure what it was, but the the ad showed a chick in lingerie prominently displayed on the cover, and also some little picture of a Palm Pilot or some such technostuff in the corner. I figured I'd score cool wife points if I got him a magazine with dork gadgets *and* T and A all rolled into one. You know, so he has inspiration should my New Year's Resolution fall through.

Anyway, back to the small girl. She was on the floor with the first issue of said magazine, flipping through and drawing on the pages with an ink pen. As I got closer, I see she's not drawing, she's circling. Lacy bras, stripper stiletto heels and garter belts.

CIRCLING THINGS SHE WANTS FOR CHRISTMAS.

My God, My God, why have you sent me a fifteen year old in the body of a four year old?

How I feel...this is freaking funny

It's the same cat/weasel thing that does the rant about Starbucks. This is not child or work safe:

This is freaking hilarious.

The Five Senses of Christmas

I truly love Christmas. It's a great, but stressful time. And this year with the new baby et al, I wanted nothing more than to hunker down with cocoa and Claymation Rudolph. No tree to be pulled over, no lights to be strung and possibly put into anyone's toothless mouth.

But with the small girl in the house, her enthusiasm is infectious. So we did the whole shebang. And I'm glad. Here's my favorite things about the holidays, per my senses:

1. Taste: Gingerbread Lattes from Starbucks only come at this time of year.

2. Smell: Scotch Tape. Makes me think of Xmas any time of the year when I smell it.

3. Sight: Houses lit up at night, twinkly, icicle, clear or colored...lit up nativity scene, or robotic reindeer...love them all.

4. Touch: The feety pajamas my kids wear all winter long...soft and fleecy.

5. Sound: "Blue Christmas", by The King. Can't hear it without singing along with the back up singers: (Eye yallhave a blooo) "oooh oooh oooh oooh" (Christmas) "oooh oooh oooh oooh oooh" (without youuuuuu).

Sigh. I love Christmas.

WTF is up with these Assholes?

We just got back from roadtripping up to Lansing this weekend. I hauled the kids up there to be with a friend from HS who is alone with her two month old baby. Her husband of 7 years walked out on her when the baby was two weeks old. His new girlfriend, 10 years his junior, is pushing him to seek a divorce right away, since they haven't been able to "sleep together" yet. On account that she's a Christian and THAT WOULD BE WRONG.

She's just a mess. Luckily, my other friend Michelle was able to get a day off and go with us. It felt like the yaya sisterhood coming to the rescue. We cleaned her place, gave her some rest, and listened to her sob and wail and question God. It was awful. There was nothing we could do. I really wanted to take our friend Ami's advice and break his penis.

But weirdly, it was a good weekend to reconnect with these women, whom I've sort of distanced from over the years. It was a surreal weekend.

Anyway, I don't understand these asshat men and where they come off doing this shit to good women and their babies. It's inexcusable.

Self Preservation, by a four year old

Girlchild: Mommy, I have a hero, did you know that?

Me: You do? Who is it?

GC: You're my hero, mommy.

My friend, bond girl, brought to my attention that this was a remarkable talent for self preservation, as I was about to kill her just last night for popping the eight year old at rehearsal.

The Drama Princess Dethroned

Today at the rehearsal for the Xmas play at school, Miss Thang decides she "just doesn't want to be onstage". She then sits down on the side and pouts. I told her that it was fine if she didn't want to do the show, but I'd be damned if Dad and I are dressing up, bringing the baby out in the rain on Thursday night past bedtime if she was going to sit in a chair and not participate. This is why we quit sending her to dance class. I don't pay to watch you sit in a chair, sweetheart. I can do that for free at home.

I don't get it. This is the same child who says "mommy watch me" five HUNDRED times a day, while prancing around in twelve different costumes and singing into anything that can pose as a microphone. My Drama Princess was letting me down. And Mama Rose I am, I let her know that. And threatened that Santa was watching.

So, she got back on stage and scowled.

Through the next ten minutes of rehearsal.

Then she got down, started crying because she "was so sad", then summarily popped an eight year old boy in the nose for making fun of her.

The drama isn't completely gone, I guess.

Vindication!!

I KNEW there were more out there than just me!!

Now this is what I'm talking about

But there is a silver lining...

...all this time indoors has allowed me to watch my season 7 Buffy, which I preordered months ago on Amazon and had forgotten until it arrived.

...I have had time to start watching the Angel dvds...yep, hooked again. And I just won season two on ebay.

...My girlchild, God bless her. Little man took her toy today and she just looked at him and said "Zachie, you SUCK". Now *that's* funny.

Perpetual bad mood

I'm not being a good blogger. But I'm not doing too well at much of anything these days. Losing weight, keeping my chin up about the damn election, keeping my cool with the kids. I can't figure it out. Is it the damn dark that comes before 5pm? Is it the crappy flu bug that took my whole family down (granparents and uncles/aunts included...both my family and the inlaws) over Thanksgiving? Is it something glandular? I can't even find it in myself to blame the damn gay republicans anymore.

Suffice it to say I'm in a blue funk. I can't seem to shake it. It really goes back a ways, to when I got home from the Poconos and had gained five pounds. That five became ten, that ten became fifteen, I got all my blood workup done, certain it was that tricky thyroid again.

Nope, the tests confirmed it: I'm just a fat lazy bastard apparently.

Hell, I don't know. I get more exercise now than I ever did. I eat better, due to the nursing thing. Hell, nursing is supposed to BURN 500 more calories a day. So why am I so fucking fat?

Well, if you made it this far in my self pity party, I applaud you for controlling your eye rolling. I just can't be witty to appeal to the masses right now. I need to use this blog for what I originally intended. A place to get it all out. A place to write it down and make peace with what rolls around and around in my head all day long. The four year old doesn't want to hear it, the baby can't care less, and the husband? Well, he just gets defensive and tries really hard to not say "suck it up and jump on a treadmill or something". Which is absolutely what I should do.

But not today.