Friday, November 28, 2008

Goth Friday

We went to Walmart today to buy some Tylenol for Messy(J3). He has the unfortunate luck of teething and his first runny nose/cough. I swear, if it's not one orifice it's another.

J2 gets out of the car and adjusts her black jacket against her pants (also black). "Don't look at me and make me laugh in the store, Mom. Don't even make me smile. I want people to think I'm goth."

I'm getting Messy out of his carseat and trying to adjust the shopping-cart cover at the same time. She's completely serious, and I try not to snort with laughter. Is 'goth' even still a term used? I feel old.

J1 is behind me with the diaper bag. I turn to her and question with my eyebrows and my best is your sister on something, you can tell me look.

"Mom, I asked her today why she wanted to be goth, and you know what she told me?"

My oldest child look at me, not waiting for me to answer. "She told me, 'It's my passion'. Yeah, her passion."

Our eyes roll at almost the same time, and with Messy secure in the cart, we walk with Goth Girl into the store, making sure that we make her smile.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

My Son, The Sissy La La

My son is eight months old. Maybe it's because he's sheltered, spending his days with his daddy (who is a great daddy). Or is it interacting with his older sisters, who, while way cool and funny these tweens are to him, are just sisters. Not like Real People.

Real People freak my son out. I know that this is the time where fear of strangers and seperation anxiety come in blah blahbety blah. But he gets really shy and wide-eyed. That's not all, I know that isn't even much!

My son is afraid of a book. He is afraid of Millie the Cow. On the first pages you meet Millie's Friends, and then you meet Millie, and she "moos" in greeting and Sissy La La FREAKS and doesn't cry, just gets really tense and doe-eyed and SAD and ohmygod I broke my baby's heart.

J2 and I tried to convince him that Millie was an OK Cow, but he wouldn't have it, even after our various cow noises (to get him used to wierd mechanical cow moos ).

Goodbye Millie the Cow.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Liar Liar Pants On Fire

Dear Internet,

I am living one big fat lie. Sure, I pretend to be happy and satisfied with my life, but the opposite is true. I am miserable.

Husband is a jerk. He's an addict (tobacco, weed, alcohol) and does not know how to communicate effectively. At all. He's critical and thinks he knows it all. He doesn't trust me (for no reason whatsoever because I have never violated that trust). He throws a fit when I want to go have Girl's Night. We argue CONSTANTLY ABOUT STUPID SHIT. I have tried holding my own. I have tried giving in and being a doormat. I don't know what in the FUCK to do.

Money is tight, and he refuses to look for a job. Yeah, the bills are all paid, but extras? Not likely. Don't get me wrong, there's enough, but not enough. Does that make sense?

I hate his guts. I definently do. I don't regret my son, never ever, but I certainly regret who I picked for his father. I regret not ending this sooner. I regret being selfish and entering into a relationship straight out of another horrible relationship. Fuck my life!

I love where I live, I love my kids, my job, my car. The only thing I have a problem with is HIM. But I am seeing that it might be more than I can handle to get rid of him. He's just such an asshole, it seems easier to stay.

How sad is that. That was a statement, and not a question.

Monday, November 10, 2008

Those Canadian Boys, Eh?

J2 was talking about a boy in her class and how he had nice penmanship. Oldest J interupts her to ask, "Is he cute?"

J2 looks apalled. "What?!" she replies. "He's from Canada!"

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

It Never Mattered So Much

I have never cried over a presidential election.

Sure, I've bitched and whined and complained.

But I have never felt such relief before over an election. I'm crying now.

My daughters want to know why I'm crying because the man I voted for won. Okay, now I'm giggling. Must look pretty silly to an 11 and 7 year old. I tell them they are witnessing history...I hope they remember...

Monday, November 03, 2008

What's Not To Love?

J2 informed me today that she can burp the alphabet. Her latest accomplishment?

She can finally make fart noises with her armpit. (Apparently this is something she's aspired to?)

I'm so...proud.