Man, that saying still rocks me to the core. I am not sure how in the world it happened, but I guess genetics played a roll in it. So there are a few of my takes on life now that I have Surround Sound with me all the time.
When you are in my home, wear shoes. Otherwise you will have food particles stuck to your foot. I try to do disaster cleanup as often as I can, but most times I have four hands trying to help me "sweeeeeeeeeppppppp" the floor. Some days it is a worthless effort and better left to nap time. But, naptime if filled with work and catching up. So, I often forget to finish the project I started. Just keep you feet covered.
I can not give anyone my undivided attention any more. Not even one of my kids. I try to listen and make things okay for everyone, but it just isn't possible for me to listen, talk, get kids off the tables and make sure they are alive and breathing. I do my damndest, all on fronts I believe, but sometimes it isn't enough. I have no clue what sale Chingy was at, only the location and number of nights I had to wrestle two wet babies into bed.
As much as I want to, I can't sympathize with your bad day... with one kid. I often find myself, more these days of bad napping schedules, with one kid always awake and alone with me. I know they need it and I cherish that time. I often forget about the one in the crib, still dreaming of moo's cows and neighs. I read and spend time. I think that people with one child take it for granted and I daydream of going to the store with only one cart, with no kissing and waving to strangers by two carts in two directions. For the ability to go to the pool with a friend who has a kid. What I wouldn't do. Dang. Y'all are spoiled. I love having two, wouldn't trade it for any amount of money, but I can't get where you come from when you complain. I get the stress of no naps, daddy being gone, yada, but man-o-man. We are damn lucky to have the kids we have, with no wars happening on our soil and all the amenities we have. Let's all stop and think of that.
If you are knocked up or the mother of a kid, I will always refer to yours at "they." As in "how did they act today?" Nope. No singular speak in my world. My kids can count to two. I wanted to think they were the worlds smartest kids, but I now know it is because everything is in two. I say thing one, thing two a lot. I say let's go, one baby, two baby. I am resigned to admit they are just normal babies and had to withdraw their applications for Jeopardy! Sad day:)
Communicating with me, via a phone, is sporadic... at best. I will try my hardest to call you back or answer, but I don't like to make you a victim to the noise I am dealing with. I find nothing more annoying than hearing other people's kids crying and screaming in the background. I get enough of that on my end of life. So, I love y'all. I want to talk to "tall people" and I will call you back!
I am learning to choose my battles with Surround Sound, but I know I am not doing it in the most wise manner. I cave. I do. I am setting the foundation for a set of spoiled kids. But some days I just can't handle one more pre-terrible two meltdowns. I will let them eat the apple they saw on the island. I will let them walk around half naked for a minute longer. I will let them spill water on the bathroom floor, while I dress their sibling, so I can get them in their cribs before bed. I will not let this ruin them, or at least I will stress myself stupid thinking I am going to have a band of Indians that no one can stand. I just have to live my life with them every minute of every day and try to head the horrible kid portions off at the pass.
If I invite you to dinner, I have the best of intentions. I might not have a clear spot for you to set and you might get mugged by my twins, but I wanted to show you off to them. Now, if I didn't specifiacally invite you to my house, you come with a group and you moan and whine about the condition of my house....... you will be asked to leave. I don't know how many hours in America are spent picking up after kids, but it is an ungodly number. Come to my house, chat with me, eat my food and let's enjoy the time. Let's not quantify it by looking at the state of my toy room, inspecting my guest room toilet or assuming I live in squaller. I don't. Typically. But, some days are harder than others, more often than not I had to assist kids off an object they know not to climb on and I have plugged my ears 20 times to ignore the tantrums and informed my twins to head to their room if they want to make that much noise. (wow. Run on sentence!!!)
As much as I often think this, I don't have the plague. I have two kids and desperately need time with friends. I can leave Chingy in charge, since he seems to think I am in the right mind to handle them. He is an amazing husband and dad. So, let's all try to do dinner. Let's try to walk. I don't know. Let's just try to drag me away from the asylum that is my house. We bought it a year ago and I have spent so much time in it that I might go all Pinterest on it and paint stuff, make things, go batshit crazy up in here. Rescue me!!!!!
No, I won't babysit. I used to love kids. My two have taken that love, devoured it into them and left me with no other urge for kids, no baby fever, no desire to watch another kid. Sorry. That is harsh, but that is my reality. They have taken all my laughs, tears, smiles, frowns and turned them in the Surround Sound special that I adore and giggle about every day. Nope. I don't want you kid, or another one of mine in the mix. Over kids, minus my own:) I can't even imagine visiting friends with my kids in tow. That would be a tough one.
I stress and worry like never before. I worry about nutrition, if someone gives them sugar, will Chuck have a lisp, are they advanced enough, should they know their colors, will watching Babe while I load the dishwasher make them want to be pig farmers. The list goes on and on. I know I am doing what I can, what I have in my heart to do, what my mom taught me, but I get nervous it won't be enough. Good enough, smart enough, happy enough. Damn, I am depressed just typing that. How do we know? Do we? I hope we don't know and we are just doing it, because if you tell me you "knew" you have pissed me off.
My life revolves around food. Giving them enough, not snacking too much, fruits, veggies, protein. I am hungry just thinking about it. I refuse to give them candy, but how long will that last when they go to school? (Mother's day out to be exact) As they get older, how do I handle people that don't respect the eating habits of my kids? Will I make them become French fry addicts if I let them eat them once a month? HELP!!
I am a person that thrives on people. The more idle chat the better. Now a days I want nothing but silence. I want to simply work when they nap, if they ever do again, I want the TV low. I don't like talking during nap time some days because it has been so loud and chaotic since they woke up. I never thought that I would grow an introverted side, but I sure have and I relish it.
If I enter a store without coupons, I feel lost. If I don't save money, I almost hyperventilate thinking of my next balance. I don't make what I used to. I am learning to cut corners. I have to save money because some weeks the only way I get the kids out is to take them to lunch. And boy or boy do they have Champaign taste on a beer budget. Hold the phone. Don't start thinking I am one of those extreme coupon people with 15 extra things of BBQ sauce. Not the case. I just like to get my ducks in a row and save $40-$50 a trip. Makes my smut magazines a free purchase in my opinion.
In closing, I won't hide who I was, what I am or let my kids swallow me. I might have accidentally spoke "pirate" to the kids in Kohl's yesterday. C-dog lost a shoe and my instinct went with "C... where in the hell did your shoe go?" Not my greatest grammar, but I am sure the other folks had someone to talk about while shopping. I didn't mean to. I talk to them like adults constantly and it is hard to edit myself. I also did some random things in college, might have not attended for a few semesters, maybe showed my boobs a time or two.... All that makes me giggle and worry about my daughter, but in no way will you find me reinventing myself for them. That isn't PC, but it is how I plan to treat life. If I forget I was stupid and "in love" in high school, then I might not pay attention to Chuck and her first loser boyfriend. I might now know what Calin is doing after a sporting event if I forget what I was up to. I am going to try to remember me and protect them.
And now, I see the monitor telling me someone is awake....... one hour after I put them to bed. So duty calls and I must assist them. Never mind that I TOLD them they needed to take a drink of water and they both ignored me. Momma knows best babes. She does:)
Monday, September 2, 2013
Monday, August 26, 2013
I Can't Pretend
Conversation with hubby.... "You ready for bed? You coming in?" I said no. I honestly think he figured I wanted one more beer. No. Not the whole point. I told him that if I went in, out of the not so million degree Oklahoma heat, I would wake up the mother of twins once again. Starting my Groundhog day-like life once again. If I went in to bed, I wasn't able to daydream about him simply being gone to a sale, me setting on the porch of our small first home and me going to my full-time job. If I go to bed now, I wake up to the sounds of twins needing me, wanting every fiber of my being. I am not ready to sleep yet.
EDITORS NOTE: I can't pretend.... I am not obsessed with North West, that I can't figure out how to slow down my ceiling fan, why I am such a horrible driver when it comes to parking and why I get so mad when I can't download a book in two seconds. Anywhooooooooo.
So, when I go to bed, I am KC. I am me. I am the person I want to be. When I have time alone, I can daydream. I won't lie. I daydream about being a working woman, no kids, happy hours and tons of events to attend with friends. Reality is, I am 33 (I accidentally put 22 at first. Had to edit:) the mother of 21-month-old twins, the wife of a man that is gracious enough to support me when I can not and am not fully employed. How did this happen? In my daydreams, people are throwing jobs at me, friends are texting me like crazy to meet up because I am fun and then I am attending work functions. No. People don't call because when you have a dinner with me, you are insta-nanny. My over-happy overaries gave me the coolest kids on Earth. Dare me. They are. Your's won't stand a chance. But this isn't about bragging on them. This is about my yearnings. I digress.
I am not working an 8-5 job because of some jack-leg who wasn't impressed with my dedication to his team. Nevermind, I got home from a birth of two, four days of puking and one weekend of mother-in-law to create a brochure for him. But, that won't get me anywhere..... I am now a stay-at-home mom who struggles. Tell me you don't and I kick you in the teeth. Point blank.
I am not fun because my days take it all from me. I might bathe every other day, at the best. And when I do, the shower door is open, all dignity is gone. There is something totally different about flashing a set of breasts for a free something or other and taking a shower in front of a set of kids that want to point out you boobs, toss Spider-Man webs at you and steal your towels. There is no dignity in being a mom. I sell make-up, for crying out loud, but I can't take myself seriously until I have 10 GD minutes to put the stuff on before someone eats a roll of toilet paper or flushes my watch.
I can't pretend I am not bitter about cancer. Not the astrological sign. Y'all with that sign might rock. But the big damned C-word. I know a great girl, not woman because she isn't even 30, battling breast cancer. What in God's name is causing this? I get why my mom dealt with it. She lived hard, loved hard, partied hard and paid hard. I miss her, but that is okay. I can't pretend I am fine, but I can figure it out with help of my dear friends who care enough to ask about me. But, I can't pretend I haven't been good enough to this girl...... she is battling and I have a box of stuff to mail to her, but I can't get to the post office. I want to help her deal with it best I can, but I can't get to the damn post office. I can't help but feel horrible because my life is a mess. I have seen the inside of a post office less than my OBGYN in the past year.
Today, I couldn't figure out why I was down. Then it dawned on me.... I wanted to be in class. I have to figure that out in my own time. Every year, around this time, I miss being in a horrible little house, working minimum wage and having penny beer. Time for me to grow up. I know. But, I can't pretend that if I were that young again, I could change a lot of things. I don't regret them, I won't hide from the random dumb things I did in college and a bit after, I won't keep it from my kids. But, I can't pretend I did enough to benefit myself in the long run. Who would have thought that the kids being active on campus and not in the bar would one day take over the world? Why did no one, but my mom... mention this. Crap. Should have listened to her. Hate it when she is right.
(editors note: I am typing on the porch and I can't pretend bugs aren't swarming my screen and that they are in my ears.)
And, to end this piece of journalism, for what it is worth.... I can't pretend that the movie "Babe" hasn't changed my life. Not only can I get the dishwasher unloaded while it plays and entertains my kids, but I was struck by a saying in it today. The cow tells the duck " The only way you'll find happiness is to accept that the way things are is the way things are." And you thought it was the part about "that'll do pig," right?
EDITORS NOTE: I can't pretend.... I am not obsessed with North West, that I can't figure out how to slow down my ceiling fan, why I am such a horrible driver when it comes to parking and why I get so mad when I can't download a book in two seconds. Anywhooooooooo.
So, when I go to bed, I am KC. I am me. I am the person I want to be. When I have time alone, I can daydream. I won't lie. I daydream about being a working woman, no kids, happy hours and tons of events to attend with friends. Reality is, I am 33 (I accidentally put 22 at first. Had to edit:) the mother of 21-month-old twins, the wife of a man that is gracious enough to support me when I can not and am not fully employed. How did this happen? In my daydreams, people are throwing jobs at me, friends are texting me like crazy to meet up because I am fun and then I am attending work functions. No. People don't call because when you have a dinner with me, you are insta-nanny. My over-happy overaries gave me the coolest kids on Earth. Dare me. They are. Your's won't stand a chance. But this isn't about bragging on them. This is about my yearnings. I digress.
I am not working an 8-5 job because of some jack-leg who wasn't impressed with my dedication to his team. Nevermind, I got home from a birth of two, four days of puking and one weekend of mother-in-law to create a brochure for him. But, that won't get me anywhere..... I am now a stay-at-home mom who struggles. Tell me you don't and I kick you in the teeth. Point blank.
I am not fun because my days take it all from me. I might bathe every other day, at the best. And when I do, the shower door is open, all dignity is gone. There is something totally different about flashing a set of breasts for a free something or other and taking a shower in front of a set of kids that want to point out you boobs, toss Spider-Man webs at you and steal your towels. There is no dignity in being a mom. I sell make-up, for crying out loud, but I can't take myself seriously until I have 10 GD minutes to put the stuff on before someone eats a roll of toilet paper or flushes my watch.
I can't pretend I am not bitter about cancer. Not the astrological sign. Y'all with that sign might rock. But the big damned C-word. I know a great girl, not woman because she isn't even 30, battling breast cancer. What in God's name is causing this? I get why my mom dealt with it. She lived hard, loved hard, partied hard and paid hard. I miss her, but that is okay. I can't pretend I am fine, but I can figure it out with help of my dear friends who care enough to ask about me. But, I can't pretend I haven't been good enough to this girl...... she is battling and I have a box of stuff to mail to her, but I can't get to the post office. I want to help her deal with it best I can, but I can't get to the damn post office. I can't help but feel horrible because my life is a mess. I have seen the inside of a post office less than my OBGYN in the past year.
Today, I couldn't figure out why I was down. Then it dawned on me.... I wanted to be in class. I have to figure that out in my own time. Every year, around this time, I miss being in a horrible little house, working minimum wage and having penny beer. Time for me to grow up. I know. But, I can't pretend that if I were that young again, I could change a lot of things. I don't regret them, I won't hide from the random dumb things I did in college and a bit after, I won't keep it from my kids. But, I can't pretend I did enough to benefit myself in the long run. Who would have thought that the kids being active on campus and not in the bar would one day take over the world? Why did no one, but my mom... mention this. Crap. Should have listened to her. Hate it when she is right.
(editors note: I am typing on the porch and I can't pretend bugs aren't swarming my screen and that they are in my ears.)
And, to end this piece of journalism, for what it is worth.... I can't pretend that the movie "Babe" hasn't changed my life. Not only can I get the dishwasher unloaded while it plays and entertains my kids, but I was struck by a saying in it today. The cow tells the duck " The only way you'll find happiness is to accept that the way things are is the way things are." And you thought it was the part about "that'll do pig," right?
Friday, May 10, 2013
Things I hate to admit
Some women just think they have to spill the beans on everything, all the time. Cough, cough- you with the ultrasound picture on FB. Gross. Stop. Vomit. Potential cause for a de-friend, IMO.
And, I know I share too much, like how my kids learned Spanish from the construction workers next door this week. Or how I am amazing, cool and perfect... well, that FB status is pending;) But I do have a couple secrets I am willing to fill you in on, as if you really, honestly have been holding your breathe for this moment in time. (And, BTW I logged in to Blogger to do some actual pull in a paycheck work and have not gotten to it yet. DAMN!! ADD-1, KC-0)
Starting now I am going to give you some major embarrassing info about myself.
I have Taylor Swift on my iPod and I also spent the money to purchase the Darius version of "Wagon Wheel." Please don't click away now. I just tolerate it, I guess. I enjoy the new Taylor/Tim song a lot. A lot, a lot.
T-shirts with sayings on them make me smile. Since I am over 30, I figure I shouldn't wear them, so I have passed that love along to my kids. Thing 1 has a shirt that says "happy, happy" on it today and Thing 2 is wearing one that says "I do my own stunts" complete with Velcro cape on the back. Don't judge me. At least I am not still wearing my t-shirt that stated "save a horse, ride a cowboy" It sure was a sad day when that one went in the Goodwill pile.
Salting my food might insult a chef, but I just do it. I know, it is bad, but since I don't add alot in my home cooking b/c of Surround Sound, I just grab it and go to town.
And to the real reason I started this: I miss my mom, I am having a hard time this week with being a mom and staring headlong into the holiday of Mother's Day. I want, with every ounce of my being, to protest it and simply fast forward to Monday. I have been so depressed seeing all the ads, people talking about it, the FB pictures of happy mother/child combos that I am in a daze. I haven't done half of my to-do lists this week, I have indulged in beer to stop thinking about it and it doesn't help. Time has slowed down and my heart is sore for the hurt. It will get better with time, but anyone who has lost a loved one can attest- IT SUCKS!!! The urge to call someone, the urge to hear their voice, doesn't go away with time.
I tell everyone I am fine. I am so good at it, I am almost convinced. HA. Guess I should become an actress. I see me being the funny sidekick in a romance. Heck, my husband even just lets me go on day to day, shoulders slumped, feet dragging without even inquiring if my head is in the right place. It isn't. I have been so depressed this week, or so I am guessing since it has never happened to me before, that I would love to be put in timeout. Alone, in a hotel.
So, as this weekend rapidly approaches I dare you all to ask a friend how they are doing and honest to God care about their response. Even if you are in a black and blue mood, and they are pumped about something, ask. It will lift your spirits and help them know you care. Please just care about them for a minute. You won't regret it.
KCK
And, I know I share too much, like how my kids learned Spanish from the construction workers next door this week. Or how I am amazing, cool and perfect... well, that FB status is pending;) But I do have a couple secrets I am willing to fill you in on, as if you really, honestly have been holding your breathe for this moment in time. (And, BTW I logged in to Blogger to do some actual pull in a paycheck work and have not gotten to it yet. DAMN!! ADD-1, KC-0)
Starting now I am going to give you some major embarrassing info about myself.
I have Taylor Swift on my iPod and I also spent the money to purchase the Darius version of "Wagon Wheel." Please don't click away now. I just tolerate it, I guess. I enjoy the new Taylor/Tim song a lot. A lot, a lot.
T-shirts with sayings on them make me smile. Since I am over 30, I figure I shouldn't wear them, so I have passed that love along to my kids. Thing 1 has a shirt that says "happy, happy" on it today and Thing 2 is wearing one that says "I do my own stunts" complete with Velcro cape on the back. Don't judge me. At least I am not still wearing my t-shirt that stated "save a horse, ride a cowboy" It sure was a sad day when that one went in the Goodwill pile.
Salting my food might insult a chef, but I just do it. I know, it is bad, but since I don't add alot in my home cooking b/c of Surround Sound, I just grab it and go to town.
And to the real reason I started this: I miss my mom, I am having a hard time this week with being a mom and staring headlong into the holiday of Mother's Day. I want, with every ounce of my being, to protest it and simply fast forward to Monday. I have been so depressed seeing all the ads, people talking about it, the FB pictures of happy mother/child combos that I am in a daze. I haven't done half of my to-do lists this week, I have indulged in beer to stop thinking about it and it doesn't help. Time has slowed down and my heart is sore for the hurt. It will get better with time, but anyone who has lost a loved one can attest- IT SUCKS!!! The urge to call someone, the urge to hear their voice, doesn't go away with time.
I tell everyone I am fine. I am so good at it, I am almost convinced. HA. Guess I should become an actress. I see me being the funny sidekick in a romance. Heck, my husband even just lets me go on day to day, shoulders slumped, feet dragging without even inquiring if my head is in the right place. It isn't. I have been so depressed this week, or so I am guessing since it has never happened to me before, that I would love to be put in timeout. Alone, in a hotel.
So, as this weekend rapidly approaches I dare you all to ask a friend how they are doing and honest to God care about their response. Even if you are in a black and blue mood, and they are pumped about something, ask. It will lift your spirits and help them know you care. Please just care about them for a minute. You won't regret it.
KCK
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Rant against Pinterest
Yes. I have an account. Yes. I have done some recipes and crafts from that world. But more and more I am becoming annoyed with it.
I have a workout board. I don't workout. I want to, I just don't. I hate the shape my body has taken on lately and I am to blame. Too much beer, not enough walking and a few days of running with the kids in the yard isn't cutting it. I am still putting my thunder thighs in my designer jeans and ignoring going in public. Sure would hate for people to make fun of me like I do them.
Crafts are fun. Crafting is cheaper than buying things. I find it to raise my blood pressure and end up half-assed. I am ADD, self diagnosed for what it is worth, and I forget to finish or I see something shiny and walk off. Those women that pin things.... are they doing a majority of them? Do they really have time to make a Dollar Tree picture frame look like a designer Chevron one? Or did they really make their own rug out of some grass and paint? I doubt it. But, that will be the mystery behind the website.
I love the recipe idea. But, now I am inundated with recipes on FB. Stop people. I have a hard enough time walking away from food. I can founder on chips and dip, I can't put down a Diet Coke and I test too much of my own cooking before serving... I bloat. But, this is still my go to place for stuff. If you saw my cookbooks and printed recipes you would know I can't find a damn thing. Thanks for the board, Pinterest.
Now how about the stay organized section of this demonic site? Meal planning printables? To do list ones? Come on. Grab a damn piece of paper, save the printer ink and use your God given talent of using the English language. Or, how about the ones that show us how to make our pantry more organized? Wonderful, for a day or two then all hell breaks loose, someone else in the house- maybe a man- can't find what he wants and a bomb goes off in the pantry. Back to square one and you will never get those initial hours of time back. NEVER.
There are even people with a bash board type section. Ladies, stop. If you husband is a cheating loser, don't bore us with your dumb board. Grab your checkbook, pack your bags and find a divorce lawyer, not your friends on Pinterest. Because odds are if you are airing your dirty laundry there, you are bitching to your girlfriends and they are over it, bored and scared to answer the phone. Wonder why you leave a ton of voicemails? Hmp.
And weddings. Holy shit is this dumb. You aren't engaged, dating or otherwise in the planning mode of weddings. Stop scaring off your future suitors by pinning your wedding colors, theme, hair, photog, etc. Men aren't dumb. They know you are just waiting to drop some sperm into the mix and you don't care who it is. You are going to use that plan with Mr. A, B, C or D. Don't forget to let the ink dry before moving on to the nursery planning board.
Teaching my kids is my number 1 priority. However, I am okay with buying store bought bubbles, reading them stories from hand me down books and using Pampers diapers. I don't have any desire to find a new project every week and beat myself up if it doesn't work. I do enough beating up of thy self on a daily basis for not being totally perfect anyway. I don't need a failed gallon of non-functioning bubbles to push me over the edge.
I did get some b-day party ideas off here. I wore myself out, used all my printer ink and got paper cuts. I am 100 percent sure that Surround Sound won't remember them in a few years. But, I saved them to show off in later years. However, big parties won't roll around every year. No way, no how. I don't have the energy to make a production out of the day they were born. Maybe like say at the age of 4.... when they can remember things, tell me what they want, wipe their own asses. But, get your glue gun out and go to town ladies. I won't feel bad when I ditch your kids parties b/c that isn't my scene. I won't feel bad when you put thousands of dollars into the production, which is only for the parents not the kids. I will however join you in a few years and eat my words. I know I will:)
What this is about is the fact that I feel inadaquate by not doing the things these Super Women are doing. Oh well, comes with the territory. I guess I should be greatful for the distraction when lunch is ready, kids are napping and most of my "work" is done for the day.
Now to finish a project. See, damn ADD kicked in again and I wrote this! HA
I have a workout board. I don't workout. I want to, I just don't. I hate the shape my body has taken on lately and I am to blame. Too much beer, not enough walking and a few days of running with the kids in the yard isn't cutting it. I am still putting my thunder thighs in my designer jeans and ignoring going in public. Sure would hate for people to make fun of me like I do them.
Crafts are fun. Crafting is cheaper than buying things. I find it to raise my blood pressure and end up half-assed. I am ADD, self diagnosed for what it is worth, and I forget to finish or I see something shiny and walk off. Those women that pin things.... are they doing a majority of them? Do they really have time to make a Dollar Tree picture frame look like a designer Chevron one? Or did they really make their own rug out of some grass and paint? I doubt it. But, that will be the mystery behind the website.
I love the recipe idea. But, now I am inundated with recipes on FB. Stop people. I have a hard enough time walking away from food. I can founder on chips and dip, I can't put down a Diet Coke and I test too much of my own cooking before serving... I bloat. But, this is still my go to place for stuff. If you saw my cookbooks and printed recipes you would know I can't find a damn thing. Thanks for the board, Pinterest.
Now how about the stay organized section of this demonic site? Meal planning printables? To do list ones? Come on. Grab a damn piece of paper, save the printer ink and use your God given talent of using the English language. Or, how about the ones that show us how to make our pantry more organized? Wonderful, for a day or two then all hell breaks loose, someone else in the house- maybe a man- can't find what he wants and a bomb goes off in the pantry. Back to square one and you will never get those initial hours of time back. NEVER.
There are even people with a bash board type section. Ladies, stop. If you husband is a cheating loser, don't bore us with your dumb board. Grab your checkbook, pack your bags and find a divorce lawyer, not your friends on Pinterest. Because odds are if you are airing your dirty laundry there, you are bitching to your girlfriends and they are over it, bored and scared to answer the phone. Wonder why you leave a ton of voicemails? Hmp.
And weddings. Holy shit is this dumb. You aren't engaged, dating or otherwise in the planning mode of weddings. Stop scaring off your future suitors by pinning your wedding colors, theme, hair, photog, etc. Men aren't dumb. They know you are just waiting to drop some sperm into the mix and you don't care who it is. You are going to use that plan with Mr. A, B, C or D. Don't forget to let the ink dry before moving on to the nursery planning board.
Teaching my kids is my number 1 priority. However, I am okay with buying store bought bubbles, reading them stories from hand me down books and using Pampers diapers. I don't have any desire to find a new project every week and beat myself up if it doesn't work. I do enough beating up of thy self on a daily basis for not being totally perfect anyway. I don't need a failed gallon of non-functioning bubbles to push me over the edge.
I did get some b-day party ideas off here. I wore myself out, used all my printer ink and got paper cuts. I am 100 percent sure that Surround Sound won't remember them in a few years. But, I saved them to show off in later years. However, big parties won't roll around every year. No way, no how. I don't have the energy to make a production out of the day they were born. Maybe like say at the age of 4.... when they can remember things, tell me what they want, wipe their own asses. But, get your glue gun out and go to town ladies. I won't feel bad when I ditch your kids parties b/c that isn't my scene. I won't feel bad when you put thousands of dollars into the production, which is only for the parents not the kids. I will however join you in a few years and eat my words. I know I will:)
What this is about is the fact that I feel inadaquate by not doing the things these Super Women are doing. Oh well, comes with the territory. I guess I should be greatful for the distraction when lunch is ready, kids are napping and most of my "work" is done for the day.
Now to finish a project. See, damn ADD kicked in again and I wrote this! HA
Monday, April 15, 2013
Let me help you men out....
Let me help you guys out. I want to translate some of the things women say and do and their true meaning.
"I am going to take a shower." This statement is uttered after the kids are asleep. The real meaning isn't to knock on the door the moment the water shuts off. A mother wants, needs, HAS to have a few minutes alone. Meaning without kids and even you. Yes. YOU! She loves you. She enjoys your time. But she would enjoy bathing, lotioning, brushing her teeth alone, without a child crying or an adult male humping her leg like a chihuahua .
If you notice the small suitcase that has always been on the top of the closet MISSING.... Your wife is leaving you. Maybe not for good, but for a few hours, days even. Don't judge her. There are only so many hours she can talk to midgets, scrub the floor and toss your nasty underwear in the washing machine before she wants her own bed and the remote. You will notice she left you dinner and has her cell phone. Call her, make a date, play nice and she will come home.
Cooking isn't fun. We only do it to feed our families. Join us at the table and shut up about it:) Even with all the technology we have now, not all of us have time to find a new creation each meal. There is nothing wrong with a frozen pizza every now and again. If we are mom's, we are more worried about feeding our children healthy stuff. We figure you are big enough to feed yourself and suffer the consequences.
If your woman likes to work, don't think it is a bad thing. My situation is one where working a full-time office job won't yield money. I have twins. I couldn't budget right and not pay to go to an office. But, there are women who use their womb to get out of work. Why? I have no clue b/c it isn't fun to stare at your house, change diapers and generally do the same shit every day. Some women might think it will be fun, but they are medicated. If you have a lady love that wants to work, help the hooker out. Come home from the office, entertain the kids and just smile. You are lucky.
"What did you do today?" That isn't the smartest thing to utter upon entering the house. I am just saying. Does she want a rundown of everything you did. In my position, I have been in the house with my kids. Things got done, most of which you can't see. Did you notice your pee stains are no longer on the underside of the toilet seat? Nope. That is because you don't put it up in the first place to know that you infested that section of the house. See those groceries in the pantry? Those are more organized than they were when you drove out this morning.
A woman loves makeup. She might not wear it every day, but you sure like when she has it on. Don't judge her for purchasing it or even selling it. She is trying to amp up the sex appeal she yearns to have. We women, as a whole, love to think we are sexy. So we might not always hit a home run when we try, but it is the trying that counts. Enjoy her drawer full of "crap" as you so term it. You might just get luck. Like the lucky you want to get!
"Let's get plastic, padded rugs for the kitchen." Nope. Never good. They are tacky. And DON'T respond with "well some of this stuff is tacky, too." First off, women today don't want a reminder that they have dishes to put away or food to cook. That is so June Cleaver. Also, you might be behind the fact that the furniture isn't 100 percent matchy, matchy, so shut your pie hole. She has taken the time to make a space go from bland to believable. Like she believes she is an adult, but wants some randomness to her life to help her remember her college days.
Never ask a lady if she wants a drink. She most certainly does. If she is in my shoes, she wants one because her over active ovaries blessed her with a herd of kids at one time and she might need to stop thinking for a second. Bring her a damn drink.
Don't just call to check in. Sorry. Some crazy people think this is acceptable. But she thinks you want or need something and you are fishing to see if she is wrestling an alien that invaded her life, all be it for the better. Sometimes women, mom's the most, don't want to offer their spare time up to your random searching expeditions. But, we will. We are doers.
I hope this helps, boys:)
"I am going to take a shower." This statement is uttered after the kids are asleep. The real meaning isn't to knock on the door the moment the water shuts off. A mother wants, needs, HAS to have a few minutes alone. Meaning without kids and even you. Yes. YOU! She loves you. She enjoys your time. But she would enjoy bathing, lotioning, brushing her teeth alone, without a child crying or an adult male humping her leg like a chihuahua .
If you notice the small suitcase that has always been on the top of the closet MISSING.... Your wife is leaving you. Maybe not for good, but for a few hours, days even. Don't judge her. There are only so many hours she can talk to midgets, scrub the floor and toss your nasty underwear in the washing machine before she wants her own bed and the remote. You will notice she left you dinner and has her cell phone. Call her, make a date, play nice and she will come home.
Cooking isn't fun. We only do it to feed our families. Join us at the table and shut up about it:) Even with all the technology we have now, not all of us have time to find a new creation each meal. There is nothing wrong with a frozen pizza every now and again. If we are mom's, we are more worried about feeding our children healthy stuff. We figure you are big enough to feed yourself and suffer the consequences.
If your woman likes to work, don't think it is a bad thing. My situation is one where working a full-time office job won't yield money. I have twins. I couldn't budget right and not pay to go to an office. But, there are women who use their womb to get out of work. Why? I have no clue b/c it isn't fun to stare at your house, change diapers and generally do the same shit every day. Some women might think it will be fun, but they are medicated. If you have a lady love that wants to work, help the hooker out. Come home from the office, entertain the kids and just smile. You are lucky.
"What did you do today?" That isn't the smartest thing to utter upon entering the house. I am just saying. Does she want a rundown of everything you did. In my position, I have been in the house with my kids. Things got done, most of which you can't see. Did you notice your pee stains are no longer on the underside of the toilet seat? Nope. That is because you don't put it up in the first place to know that you infested that section of the house. See those groceries in the pantry? Those are more organized than they were when you drove out this morning.
A woman loves makeup. She might not wear it every day, but you sure like when she has it on. Don't judge her for purchasing it or even selling it. She is trying to amp up the sex appeal she yearns to have. We women, as a whole, love to think we are sexy. So we might not always hit a home run when we try, but it is the trying that counts. Enjoy her drawer full of "crap" as you so term it. You might just get luck. Like the lucky you want to get!
"Let's get plastic, padded rugs for the kitchen." Nope. Never good. They are tacky. And DON'T respond with "well some of this stuff is tacky, too." First off, women today don't want a reminder that they have dishes to put away or food to cook. That is so June Cleaver. Also, you might be behind the fact that the furniture isn't 100 percent matchy, matchy, so shut your pie hole. She has taken the time to make a space go from bland to believable. Like she believes she is an adult, but wants some randomness to her life to help her remember her college days.
Never ask a lady if she wants a drink. She most certainly does. If she is in my shoes, she wants one because her over active ovaries blessed her with a herd of kids at one time and she might need to stop thinking for a second. Bring her a damn drink.
Don't just call to check in. Sorry. Some crazy people think this is acceptable. But she thinks you want or need something and you are fishing to see if she is wrestling an alien that invaded her life, all be it for the better. Sometimes women, mom's the most, don't want to offer their spare time up to your random searching expeditions. But, we will. We are doers.
I hope this helps, boys:)
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Cleaning.... blows
My last deep cleaning session for our house was in January. I am not too proud to admit it. I have a set of wild ass twins that can kill a great smelling room in a matter of one rank diaper. That is my life.
Today included some sort of work, but mostly dried out, cracked hands from scrubbing. I found these things helpful.
1- Stepped on, smooshed into the tile sweet tater only comes up with elbow grease.
2- Sweeping is a workout.
3- I will never dust again. I will only use my vacuum and the attachment. Judge me. I don't care. Try it, you will convert like me.
4- Toys can multiply and make the scariest sounds ever.
5- Cereal rolls and then gives birth to more cereal under a couch, if left unattended and without proper sex ed classes.
6- I am going to pay for a vasectomy for my hubby since I would be an annoying, grey haired mom in a matter of moments if I found a positive sign on a pregnancy test.
7- My sniffer works better now than it did while knocked up. I found a rancid wash cloth under a bed. Wonder what make and model it is.
8- My old, lime green iPod is the best companion in the world. A dog would never live up to the standards it sets.
9- Receiving the property from my mom and dad's house set me back a few notches. I never wanted antiques in my home when they lived in my for real home, Indiana. Things are sinking in and I am swimming my hardest against the current of emotions.
10- House plants must be watered. Just a word of advice.
11- If I allowed myself to feed Surround Sound only fries and nuggets, my house would be cleaner and more sanitary. I will take somewhat grungy over fat, lazy kids. Sorry people. We eat fresh.
12- My crock pot might blow up if I don't learn how to cook any other way. Tonight menu- pork loin with peppers and carrots. Starving.
13- A bathroom is only as clean as it's owner. I will admit, I leave toothpaste in the sink, makeup gunked up on the counter and random shit all around. I call it my war room.
14- A person cleaning should wear a bra. I don't care if you are male, your boobs will sweat. Since calving, I don't think the girls are where they should be or where they once were. I want to nap on them. Drool in my cleavage. Well, today I got down to business without putting the girls in the home and I regret it. Don't be me.
15- Own stock in Mr. Clean Magic Erasers before you get knocked up. I killed three today getting little grubby ass stuff off the walls. Well, I guess if I had cleaned between the New Year and April Fools I wouldn't have had such an uphill battle.
16- Hug the ones that care for your kids. Mine are in great hands, I should go get them, but I am relishing the clean house I created. Not ready to grab the duo and let it go to waste before Chingy gets home. Such is life. However, without amazing Miss Leslie I would live in total and complete squallier.
17- Work should be getting done. I am boring you. Watch the Ranch House blog for some great sites. I need to write that up. Oops.
Peace, love and pork loin for dinner! KCK
Today included some sort of work, but mostly dried out, cracked hands from scrubbing. I found these things helpful.
1- Stepped on, smooshed into the tile sweet tater only comes up with elbow grease.
2- Sweeping is a workout.
3- I will never dust again. I will only use my vacuum and the attachment. Judge me. I don't care. Try it, you will convert like me.
4- Toys can multiply and make the scariest sounds ever.
5- Cereal rolls and then gives birth to more cereal under a couch, if left unattended and without proper sex ed classes.
6- I am going to pay for a vasectomy for my hubby since I would be an annoying, grey haired mom in a matter of moments if I found a positive sign on a pregnancy test.
7- My sniffer works better now than it did while knocked up. I found a rancid wash cloth under a bed. Wonder what make and model it is.
8- My old, lime green iPod is the best companion in the world. A dog would never live up to the standards it sets.
9- Receiving the property from my mom and dad's house set me back a few notches. I never wanted antiques in my home when they lived in my for real home, Indiana. Things are sinking in and I am swimming my hardest against the current of emotions.
10- House plants must be watered. Just a word of advice.
11- If I allowed myself to feed Surround Sound only fries and nuggets, my house would be cleaner and more sanitary. I will take somewhat grungy over fat, lazy kids. Sorry people. We eat fresh.
12- My crock pot might blow up if I don't learn how to cook any other way. Tonight menu- pork loin with peppers and carrots. Starving.
13- A bathroom is only as clean as it's owner. I will admit, I leave toothpaste in the sink, makeup gunked up on the counter and random shit all around. I call it my war room.
14- A person cleaning should wear a bra. I don't care if you are male, your boobs will sweat. Since calving, I don't think the girls are where they should be or where they once were. I want to nap on them. Drool in my cleavage. Well, today I got down to business without putting the girls in the home and I regret it. Don't be me.
15- Own stock in Mr. Clean Magic Erasers before you get knocked up. I killed three today getting little grubby ass stuff off the walls. Well, I guess if I had cleaned between the New Year and April Fools I wouldn't have had such an uphill battle.
16- Hug the ones that care for your kids. Mine are in great hands, I should go get them, but I am relishing the clean house I created. Not ready to grab the duo and let it go to waste before Chingy gets home. Such is life. However, without amazing Miss Leslie I would live in total and complete squallier.
17- Work should be getting done. I am boring you. Watch the Ranch House blog for some great sites. I need to write that up. Oops.
Peace, love and pork loin for dinner! KCK
Monday, April 1, 2013
Journal of a disfunctional mom
So, I am learning the ropes of being a mom every minute of every day. Here are some things I have compiled that I suggest you NEVER do when you decide to populate the world.
DON'T teach your kids to jump off a couch onto a pile of pillows. You see, a 16-month-old won't pay attention to their landing pad and continue to jump.
DON'T burp in front of you babes. Mine now try to do the same thing. They shouldn't.
DON'T teach them to stick their tongue out and make spit. That needs no explanation, but I have learned the hard way.
NEVER say things to them like this "Get your mouse away from your kitty!!" This is said alot to my daughter since she finds it funny that I laugh and respond that way when she sticks her Mickey Mouse close to her girlie parts.
KEEP all wipes put away. They aren't cheap, they don't give them away with diapers. Little hands can cover a room in a whole package if left unattended. Looks like it snowed up in here.
DO teach them the word snack. You can calm a kid down in a heart beat if you say "Want a snack?!" I follow this by making mine sit on the kitchen floor. Some say I treat them like dogs, but I am out numbered so don't judge.
SIGN language is good. The sign for "change" the diaper is bad. It is a motion by the Velcro part of the diaper. Next thing you know your child will dump a loaded gun on the ground and think it is funny.
NEVER let you kids nap without pants on. Another instance of finding poop in places you never thought.
BELIEVE you will know all the characters in Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and embrace the theme song. It kicks Barney's ass and is so much cooler.
EMBRACE a hat. I wear one most days. It is okay. Hat's combined with a sweater and yoga pant outfit. Never good. Trust me, been there, accidentally did that- I am on People of Walmart, I just know it.
HEAR everything. When you hear nothing, panic, run and pray your house isn't falling down. Unless it is nap time, then embrace it and pretend like you are a rich woman with no responsibility. Every now and again set on the couch, feet up and watch a Real Housewives re-run. Good for the soul.
BUY a crock pot. Use it. Only way you can eat a home cooked meal on most days.
ALLOW for a mess. Messes get cleaned up. Sanity never comes back. Once you are gone, you will never find yourself again.
SOCKS run away. Just know that. Kids socks never find their mate until you toss one and then it crawls out from its hiding spot longing for its love. Nature of the beast.
POOP is disgusting. Gag, it is okay. You will. Just make sure you don't get so bad that you puke, or put a nice trashcan close to the changing location.
DON'T invest in a diaper genie. They still smell horrible and are ugly. Take the trash out. Might be the only fresh air you get that day!
NEVER wake a sleeping baby. NEVER EVER. If you are stuck with them all day, stress this to your loved ones. Nothing sucks worse than when Circle K is going on a stretch of sales and wants to see them before he leaves. Surround Sound smiles for him, cries all day for me. Tell your hubby you will send pictures and keep you hair in your head.
MULTIPLES. Buy in multiples. Well, I calved a herd, so I have to, but you should too. You will never have too many sheets, changing pad covers or white t-shirts.
PEROXIDE is great for the first step of stain removal. Babies are filthy pigs. Lay of the land, but don't stress over stains if you don't have to. Peroxide then Shout it out and you should be good. They grow too fast and they are expensive little devils:)
Do as I say and not as I do! Have a great week. Let me know if this helps you at all! LOL
DON'T teach your kids to jump off a couch onto a pile of pillows. You see, a 16-month-old won't pay attention to their landing pad and continue to jump.
DON'T burp in front of you babes. Mine now try to do the same thing. They shouldn't.
DON'T teach them to stick their tongue out and make spit. That needs no explanation, but I have learned the hard way.
NEVER say things to them like this "Get your mouse away from your kitty!!" This is said alot to my daughter since she finds it funny that I laugh and respond that way when she sticks her Mickey Mouse close to her girlie parts.
KEEP all wipes put away. They aren't cheap, they don't give them away with diapers. Little hands can cover a room in a whole package if left unattended. Looks like it snowed up in here.
DO teach them the word snack. You can calm a kid down in a heart beat if you say "Want a snack?!" I follow this by making mine sit on the kitchen floor. Some say I treat them like dogs, but I am out numbered so don't judge.
SIGN language is good. The sign for "change" the diaper is bad. It is a motion by the Velcro part of the diaper. Next thing you know your child will dump a loaded gun on the ground and think it is funny.
NEVER let you kids nap without pants on. Another instance of finding poop in places you never thought.
BELIEVE you will know all the characters in Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and embrace the theme song. It kicks Barney's ass and is so much cooler.
EMBRACE a hat. I wear one most days. It is okay. Hat's combined with a sweater and yoga pant outfit. Never good. Trust me, been there, accidentally did that- I am on People of Walmart, I just know it.
HEAR everything. When you hear nothing, panic, run and pray your house isn't falling down. Unless it is nap time, then embrace it and pretend like you are a rich woman with no responsibility. Every now and again set on the couch, feet up and watch a Real Housewives re-run. Good for the soul.
BUY a crock pot. Use it. Only way you can eat a home cooked meal on most days.
ALLOW for a mess. Messes get cleaned up. Sanity never comes back. Once you are gone, you will never find yourself again.
SOCKS run away. Just know that. Kids socks never find their mate until you toss one and then it crawls out from its hiding spot longing for its love. Nature of the beast.
POOP is disgusting. Gag, it is okay. You will. Just make sure you don't get so bad that you puke, or put a nice trashcan close to the changing location.
DON'T invest in a diaper genie. They still smell horrible and are ugly. Take the trash out. Might be the only fresh air you get that day!
NEVER wake a sleeping baby. NEVER EVER. If you are stuck with them all day, stress this to your loved ones. Nothing sucks worse than when Circle K is going on a stretch of sales and wants to see them before he leaves. Surround Sound smiles for him, cries all day for me. Tell your hubby you will send pictures and keep you hair in your head.
MULTIPLES. Buy in multiples. Well, I calved a herd, so I have to, but you should too. You will never have too many sheets, changing pad covers or white t-shirts.
PEROXIDE is great for the first step of stain removal. Babies are filthy pigs. Lay of the land, but don't stress over stains if you don't have to. Peroxide then Shout it out and you should be good. They grow too fast and they are expensive little devils:)
Do as I say and not as I do! Have a great week. Let me know if this helps you at all! LOL
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