My husband calls me weird

It's not you, it's me

I'm going to be taking a little holiday break. Hopefully I will be back after the craziness is over with or if something happens that I have to share with you or shit my pants.

Really, it's not you, it's me. I don't want to be that girl that comes on over for a pitty fuck and doesn't stay for the cuddling. You deserve more than that. You deserve the cuddling and whispers of sweet nothings. If that's not love then I don't know what is.

Have a wonderful Turkey day to all my US peeps and to everyone else, hell, bake a turkey this Thursday for the hell of it. Do it for the delicious stuffing and mashed potatoes. You can thank me later.

From the Editor

Dear Bibby Chick Walking Down the Street,

Repeat after me, tights are not pants. Say it again. Tights are not pants. Seriously, my eyes will never be the same again,

Unsincerely  yours,
Nikki (that bitch covering her eyes as she walked by you)

Dear Diet Coke,

I cannot quit you. Can we work on an IV line please? This whole lifting cup up to drink thing is really wasting my time.

Thanks a bunch,
Nikki

Dear Parents of Soph's Daycare,

We all share the drop off zone. The parking is limited. Please stop fucking taking up more than one parking space. You make me want to gouge your eyes out with an ice pick and then teach you how to properly parallel park.

Unsincerely yours,
Nikki (that bitch giving you the evil death glare as she drives by because you took up all the available parking spaces)

Dear Sophia,

I love you more than life itself, but please for all that is holy on pumpernickel bread, stop that ear piercing scream when you don't get what you want. And despite how awful your scream is, you are still going to wear your hat. It's 30 degrees outside. Deal with it.

Love you,
Mommy

Dear Left Over Halloween Candy,

Fuck you and the horse you rode in on that you lost your virginity to.

Unsincerely yours,
My hips and ass

A cure perhaps?

It's nice to know that I'm not the only one with a case of the bat shit crazies. Thank you all for your kind words and thoughts. Needless to say, I called the doctor and they ordered me up some mighty fine shit. 

Speaking of help, enjoy the video. Don't give me that look. Yes, it's another video. What's your point? Besides you can thank me after you watch the video.

You're welcome.

She Speaks!!!

Tell me you aren't melting as you are watching this. If your not, then obviously kittens and puppy dogs do nothing to your hardened heart. You're like Gargamel of the Smurf world and deserve a lifetime of wedgies that can't be picked out. So there. Bastard.

The bat shit crazies

About two months ago I stopped taking my meds. I was feeling better! I could handle things without my Zoloft!

Who the fuck was I kidding?

Now. It's worse. 10 times worse. It's no longer just crying because I miss mom or PPD. It's feeling sad ALL the time. I get angry at the drop of the hat. I yell. My poor son gets the brunt of it too. He doesn't deserve my crazies. I apologize and let him know that it's not his fault, it's mommy's fault.  "That's okay mommy. I know you don't mean it."  It's not fair to him. It's not fair to me. Last night I yelled because he was having a hard time going to sleep. BECAUSE he has the FLU and couldn't breathe through his nose. That's okay, you can call me a bitch. I called myself one last night.

Today I call my doctor. For my kids, for my husband. For myself. This is no way to live. I have to get it through my head that it's okay to say you need help. That it doesn't mean you're weak or less.

Because this? Is no way to live.

I remember

I remember.........

Sitting on your lap and you blow drying my long, long hair. How I hated having to sit still and have my hair pulled in all those directions. You used to let me stay up a few more minutes to watch my favorite show, just to make up for it.

Arguing with you in the CVS parking lot because I wanted a curling iron and you said we couldn't afford it. You eventually caved and I used it twice. I think you should have just smacked me for my selfishness.

Trying to convince me that the Mississippi River started in Ohio. I would never let you forget that either. 

The Thanksgiving you and I refused all invitations and instead stayed home in pajamas eating whatever we wanted and laughing hysterically. It was probably my favorite Thanksgiving ever. 

Holding Grandma's hand the day she passed.

Seeing you hold your grandson and grandaughter for the first time.

Playing hooky and spending the day shopping together.

 
Saying goodbye. Holding your hand. It was so cold and you were so blue. I begged for you to get off that table. I screamed for you to move.

I still beg and scream.

8 months

Well. It seems I have an 8 month old on my hands. One I like to call Little Miss Destructive. She's like a tornado, destroying everything in her path.

 

Oh my gosh. This baby of mine. People, I wish I could bottle up this cuteness and sell it. I'd be a millionaire over night. Happiness oozes from her pores. She wakes up laughing. Laughs all day long and finally laughs her self to sleep at night.

This past month Soph has started to stand unassisted and I think my heart cracked a little bit more. She is no longer just content to sit and cuddle. She has to move. Constantly. I'd be worried about the poor cat becoming bald from all the fur Soph has pulled out, only the stupid cat never runs away. So really, Hairball's baldness is her fault.

The great babble explosion has happened this month. Soph's favorite game is to throw whatever she is holding and then chanting "uh-oh" until you repeat uh-oh with her.

 

Sophia is never so happy as she is when eating. And it better be food she can pick up by herself. Whoa be the spoon that tries to help. Her once dainty self has become rolls upon rolls of delicious chub. Her feet look like little sausages that I want to nom on all day. I want to stick my nose in the crook of her neck and breathe the baby sweetness, but alas, that keeps her from tossing all the clean folded clothes out the laundry basket or smashing toys together and that. is. not. allowed. Hell to the person that keeps her from destroying. High pitched baby scream hell.

My sweet baby girl, you are less and less like a little baby every day. While I love watching you conquer the world, a tiny corner of my heart aches for how fast you are growing. Thank you for letting me wrap myself around your pinky.

(Just stop trying to slap my nose off my face. M'kay? Deal?)

(In My Closet post up at the fashion place. Go check it out. Or high pitched baby scream hell to you.)

Shhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!

You'll wake the baby!!

(and I'll let you decided which baby that is......)

Winner Winner!

Thank you guys for all your votes! Sophia won the Halloween Contest!

Check out the winning blog post!

Deprivation

Now that Aaron is in kindergarten he does not take a nap anymore. And he is one 5 year old who desperately still needs a nap. By the end of the night his emotions are so raw that it doesn't take much for the boy to break down. This was very apparent last night.

Aaron had snuggled down in bed, book in hand and began to read the story.

To which he promptly broke down into massive heaving sobs.

"Aaron, what's wrong?!?!?!??!?!?!"

"It doesn't make sense mommy! The story! It doesn't make sense!"

(hide internal snort)

"Of course the kangaroo has a mother! You have to have a mother to be born."

(Sob, Sob)

"It doesn't make sense!!!!!"

I calmly pulled the book from his hands, quieted him down and tucked him into bed.

Mental note: Bedtime is now 30 minutes earlier.........

 

(Picture from Kevin's Blackberry)

(And yes, those are Elvis knee patches on his pants.)

(Don't give me that look.)