They are a-changin’.

Something tells me all the change I have been recently craving and wishing for… is coming. Whether I am ready or not.

I have been lacking so much in this blog, that it is near criminal.

I love writing. I love blogging. So why have I put this as well as other numerous things that I love to do, on the fucking backburner?
Specificially this year?

Because, to be honest, my marriage is failing.

There. I said it.

And when one’s marriage is failing, and falling, and pieces are flying, and children are involved, you tend to let things slip away. Including your blogs, and your videos, and your writing, and your enjoyment and your joy and your pieces and parts of everyday life.

This year has sucked. Pretty damn bad. I haven’t had such a shit year, in soooo very long. I should be thankful, but as we all know, when it rains, it pours and I don’t mean a storm of cleaning rain- I mean a storm of shit.
Pretty visual- eh?

I will spare the details. I will spare the insane amount of time that this has gone on. I will spare all that stupid woe is me bullshit.

But I refuse to spare myself anymore. I have to do what I have to do. I Have to go on. And I have to enjoy life again.

I am not going anywhere, I will never let who I am, slip away anymore.

Tis Summer Season.
Season of sun.
Season of heat.
Season of {insert dramatic sound effects here} SUMMER VACATION FOR MY KIDS.
Season of…
NO SCHOOL.

No more free time for me and the 4 year old.
No more lazy, relaxing, chill time.
No more.

Now my house is covered in insanity from the moment I awake until these tiny heathens go to sleep at night.

I have to remind myself, summer used to be one of my favorite seasons.
Fire flies.
Crickets.
Warm breezes.
Beaches.
Picnics.
Sunshine on my face.

So I will survive. I will.

Right?

If you follow me on twitter… then you are aware my kids are all passing around something that is quite evil on the belleh.

My son’s friend next door decided she was going to contact some kind of stomach nasty from her friend at school, she in turn had some stomach nasties and then passed it on to my oldest son. He in turn had the diarrhea monster and vomit zombie- dualing for the title champion belt of his body.
I swear to you, this 65 lb. human being vomited more than 25 times in a 48 hour period.
He is still sick, but able to eat and hold down nutrients and torture his younger brother.

Last night, his sister (My oldest) came down with the worst of it. She is now battling out the nasties. I am here HOPING that this thing does not enter my third and smallest child’s digestive track. He is 4 years old, and already has a habit of “gonna puke ma! gonna puke!” by the faintest of smells. I can not handle this child right now, with a stomach bug.
Why? Because,  I am going on day five of cleaning up puke and shit. I can’t take it no mores. Yes, I said mores. So, I am asking whatever higher power is above me, to please- PLEASE cut me some slack and NOT let the littlest dude get this funk junk. Please?

And no, to answer your question, it’s not the swine flu. This is stomach related. Nothing swiney going on all up in here.

Hey everyone, so sorry about being missing in action. I will be catching up this week. Unfortunately I lost my Grandfather last friday and it’s been quite an emotional weekend.

Soon, I will write all about his beautiful and full life.

Thanks to those of you that conveyed your sympathy via emails and such. I appreciated them very much.

I am about to venture out into the cold air of Ohio and take my children to the library.

I promised them three nights ago, if they took their medicine and went to bed, we would and I quote “Mommy will take you both to the library! Won’t that be fun!?” they responded “YAY!!! LIBRARY!!!!”.

To my surprise, they both took it and went straight to sleep.

So of course, they marked today on their tiny little mental calendars, and when I woke up this early morn, they were both in my face.

Mya: “MOM!!!!!!!! TODAY! Today we go to the library!”
Keifer: “LI-BRA-REEEEEEEEEEEE”
Both of them in unison: “YAAYYYYYY?”
Me: “ooga. huh?” rubs eyes. wakes. gets coffee.

I am still in my pajamas. They, including the baby, are all naked. with diapers and underwear. They look like village babies.

They keep screaming “LIBRAREEEEEEEEEEEE!” as if it’s the secret word of the day, like on the Pee Wee Herman show.

“Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!”. Then the baby screams because he has to chime in as well. “AHHHH AHHHHH MUM!”

I need to get motivated. I promised them. But I can’t move. I am still drinking coffee. I have to get them all dressed, not sure if I am going to walk there in the brisk winter air, or if my husband will drop us off, which would require me dressing another individual. He said he didn’t mind. But I might, I don’t wanna dress 4 people including myself. I think the stroller and the feet will have to do. I can’t dress one more person.

Once we get there, I will juggle the two older ones as my husband gets to sit at home with the baby and relax in quiet. Lucky man. I owe it to him after he has been home all week, trying to relax during his much awaited vacation. He hasn’t had a full week off in the 6 years he has worked his fingers off. And instead of relaxation, the man has helped me juggle the three chilrens, taking the baby to the doctor twice this week, helping out with laundry, cooking, cleaning, letting me sleep in until 1 o’clock on my birthday. I know he deserves this day with the baby and nothing else.

It won’t be so bad. My kids love books, they love to read, they need to get out of the house and get air, and maybe when we get back they won’t be eating each other’s flesh and actually be tamed for a little while.

Then we can all have a nice dinner, which is simmering in the crock pot as I speak. My homemade BBQ shredded pork. I make my own sauce and everything. We put it on buns and eat it with slaw or with mac salad. I love my crock pot. It’s from heaven.

So, as I venture forth into this cold world, with two kids in tow, going to the library (YAY!), keep me in mind. Send me good vibes, that we all make it back alive.
hee hee.

Library! Yay!

I met my husband eight years ago today.

During a blind date I almost didn’t go to. But my hair was acting good that night. So, I went.

Lots of love, blah blah blah. Good sex, blah blah blah. I love you, blah blah blah. Will you marry me? Blah blah blah, pretty baby girl, blah blah blah. Gorgeous baby boy, blah blah blah. Sad stuff, blah blah blah. Gorgeous second baby boy again blah blah blah. Eight years later.

The rest is history.

I was going to write a big assed mushy post, worthy of mush awards.
But I had a bad night.
Filled with children chaos, hair, baby chaos, baby poop, hair, and a fried chicken gut that is bloated.
And more random hair.

I attempted to give The Girl’s hair some layers. It looks good now, but I dunno what will happen by morning. Or better yet, when it grows out.

I don’t feel good. I ate too much chicken.

And also, my brother called to tell me my mother has taken a turn for the worst. She’s not dying, but I keep thinking she is. She has had the flu since friday and now is vomiting madly. So, now my brother who never freaks about anything, because he is cooooool- is freaking.
Now, I am freaking.
And wondering if she has something worse.
She is also working while being sick, because she just started a job so she can’t call off kinda thing- and so she comes home heaving and hysterical. And a few minutes ago, I heard half of a newscast that said something about a possible epidemic of the bird flu, so now of course, I think my mother has the bird flu. And also my kids are going back into crystal bubbles. Because the newscast said something about plague like proportions possible and a 72% mortality rate, and that my county has had plans since 9-11 to set up vaccination areas in schools and to vaccinate 20,000 people at a time. And then the last shot they showed on the newscast was a snowy cemetary with violins and organs playing. So, now, I got terrorists in our backyards in my mind that planted the bird flu and we are all gonna die. And also, since we all ate chicken for dinner, we are gonna be one of the firsts. Why don’t they give out the vaccinations before it gets to epidemic proportions? And then I start to freak, and my husband reminds me that I only saw half of the newscast and that, in particular, that station likes to run news stories as if they are soap operas.

How is that for a bad run on sentence/paragraph/freak out?

So, yea. That’s why I don’t feel romantic tonight.

My husband bought the kids gifts to help them feel better.

He got our son some legos and a makeup kit for our daughter.

She and her brother ambushed me.

They made me. Made me over.

Then they made themselves over.

Don’t I look bootylicious?

Giving orders and looking serious.

No bigger cheese, than the cheese he bares.

I got a bouquet for Valentine’s Day.

A nice viral bouquet.

What’s a viral bouquet, you say?

Here is what you need to make a viral bouquet:

1 baby with a cough and head full of mucous.

1 six year old girl with a stomach virus.

1 three year old boy with a fever of unknown causes.

2 parents with sore throats and mucous filled noses.

Directions
Put together the parents. Make sure they feel horrible.
The six year old girl must poop in her bed and run to the bathroom while vomiting. Then you take the parents and make them clean up the poop and the vomit.
Add the baby with a cough and boogies and make him real cranky.
Throw in the three year old with a strange fever, that goes on and off for about three days. The fever must be of unknown causes, because he doesn’t have any other symptoms.

And there you have a viral bouquet for Valentine’s Day!

I don’t know where on God’s green earth we caught all this shit, but it’s quite lovely. The smells are just gorgeous.

Actually, I have my ideas on where everyone got sick. All I have to say is:

“IF YOU ARE SICK, AND PEOPLE SAY THEY ARE COMING OVER WITH THREE KIDS TO VISIT YOU, PLEASE TELL THEM IF YOU HAVE THE PLAGUE GOING ON IN YOUR HOUSE!”

How hard is that???? Ugh. Why did we have to go visiting people last week??

I want to hide my children in a bubble for the rest of the winter.

A nice sanitized crystal bubble.

I have vowed to stop cussing so much.

My friend had her kids over today, and all I could do to stop saying FUCK and MOTHER FUCKER and all that goodness, was really hard. I even slipped. I think she wanted to smack me.

My mouth is dirty. Like John Mayer says in his song Comfortable.

” She says the bible is all that she reads and prefers that I not use profanity…. your mouth was, so dirty.”

Even though, my first intitial thought was she had a dirty mouth because she gave good head, or because she needed to brush more often.
I soon realized he meant she was like ME!
She cussed like a FUCKING SAILOR.

So, yea. I need to not cuss so much.
Because I have three little kids.
Like my friend.
She cusses, but she cusses when it’s us, and we are having fun while having a drink, or when we are acting like FUCKING lunatics driving around in the snow trying not to go back home.
Where we SHOULDN’T CUSS.

Example: her youngest son, runs into my middle son, and we laugh. Because it’s so cute as they collide and are falling to the ground and are in pain. Just kidding. No pain. Anyway we call her youngest the baby rhino, ’cause he is so cute and rough when he hugs people, and my middle son is just taking these hugs and falling to the ground and wincing and laughing in half pain, half hilarity.
So, I,  I go “OMG HOW FUCKING HILARIOUS!”
I caught myself like SEVENTEEN HUNDRED TIMES today.
I am turning into TRASH, PEOPLE.
I dunno if she caught me, but if I did.  SHE did.
And I feel bad.

I need to say words like fecking, farking, freaking and effing, or darnit and shitzui. And stuff.
Or GOD- not even that stuff.

I am a horrible mother, people.

I need to stop cussing.
And also, because, I caught my three year old son, calling his Doctor Octopus action figure an asshole the other day.

I am going on very small amounts of sleep right now.

Lots of coffee and very little sleep.

You would think the reason for this lack of sleep would be my three month old.
But it isn’t.
It’s because of my Three YEAR old.

He has been going through some intense and strange changes.
I began thinking it was because of the baby.
But I am starting to think it’s more than that.

Like, he has ADHD more than that.
Or something else.

I can’t deal.

We don’t let him nap, and play with him, and cut his sugar intake and everything we can think of.
But come bedtime, we are fighting with him for over two hours to get him to stay down.
To lay down.
To go to fucking sleep.
And he won’t.

He is up every night, except for a choice few nights where we tried new things, but he soon got tired of those new things and is now up until midnight or beyond.

How?
How can a small child, run on such energy?
WHY?

How can he?
I don’t get it.
He gets up at 6-7 a.m. every morning with us.
He doesn’t nap AT ALL.

Granted, he wants to sleep after dinner time, but we keep him up. The one night I let him go to bed at 7:30 he woke up at 10 oclock wanting to play.

I CAN’T HANDLE THIS, PEOPLE. I AM AT WITS END.

A friend of mine suggested an herbal tincture in his juice, another friend told me to try letting him down for a nap in the early morning, and my MIL who had 4 kids of her own just says “I went through this with your husband. Him and his brother. I don’t know what to tell you.”
WHADDYA MEAN YOU DONT KNOW WHAT TO TELL ME!??
GODAMNIT! YOU WENT THROUGH THIS! HOW COULD YOU NOT THROW ME A FUCKING BONE!????
A CRUMB?

I am snapping.
At him.
At the cat.
At the carpet.
At everything.

The Baby on the other hand, slept from 9 oclock to 5 this morning.

I must have been really fucked up in another life. ‘Cause my ass is paying three fold and then some right now.

Goodnight.
I mean… well, Good day.

I need to give you a real quick explanation of my relationship with my Grandmother from Puerto Rico, before I go on any further.

It’s non-existent.

She decided to “kill me off” in her mind back in 1999. For whatever reason, she had never really explained. She is half cracked in the head. Never was completely there. And from what my mother tells me, there is a HUGE history of depression and “cracked nuttiness” on my maternal side of the family.
THAT explains a whole fucking lot.
Thanks for telling me this AFTER I HAD CHILDREN, MOM!

Just kidding.

Anyway, when she came to Ohio back in 2003, I decided to call her up at my uncle’s house where she was staying. To try to make amends of our “situation” and to FIND OUT WHY she had decided I wasn’t worthy of her.

Know what she said to me?
In Spanish and really mean?
“You are dead (MUERRRTA) to me. You are no more to me.” and she hung up on me.

She had never seen The Boy, and knew I almost lost him during a very scary pregnancy. That he only had a 50/50 chance of survival in my womb. That I was on bedrest for a majority of that pregnancy (in 2001).

But yet, didn’t give two shits that she was now IN THE SAME STATE as we were and that we were living TEN MINUTES away from where she was staying. Didn’t wanna see him or The Girl (Munson wasn’t born yet, remember this was ‘03).

She just told me I was dead.
Muerrrta.

So, I went through a sort of grieving process where it was like she died.
And I cried, and I remembered her when I was little and how much she meant to me.
And then, then I let her go.
I had closure.
I let her go.

Me and mom talk about her and my grandfather- (oh yea, he called me like five minutes after she hung up on me and said “this is probably the last time we will talk in our lifetimes, I love you, goodbye.”)we talk about them in past tense. It’s kinda sad. But, hey. Shit happens.

On to what I was gonna say about today and why I am talking about them, in particular- her evil ass.

My aunt had stopped by today, to drop off some job openings and numbers for my mother (because my mother is sinking into a deep depression I can tell. I need to help her. No matter what.)… And when she was leaving, I gave her some little wallet photos of the kids.
My aunt goes ” I will have to hide these from your uncle. Your grandparents have been asking him to sneak them a picture of your kids so they can see them”.

WHAA?

I started laughing. I said, “please hide those, he will send them and I don’t want evil eyes laid upon my babies heads”.
She said she would put them in her cubicle until my uncle’s obsession about sneaking pictures subsides.

Then, she said- “that woman wouldn’t appreciate them anyway. She bitched to him back in 1999 about how you sent her CHEAP AND HORRIBLE pictures of The Girl for Christmas that year. She said something about how you are so cheap you took the baby to K-Mart for Christmas photos….”

I about gasped.
Double Whaaaa????

THAT IS WHAT SHE IS HOLDING A GRUDGE AGAINST ME FOR?
FOR FUCKING PICTURES I SENT TO HER OF HER ONLY GREAT GRANDCHILD AT THE TIME?
REALLY?
BECAUSE I was “too poor” to go to a fucking PROFESSIONAL photographer and have them take her pic?
HOW FUCKING SICK IS THAT?

So then I told her… “Know what! Tell Uncle Vinny I am gonna SEND HER SOME SPECIAL PICTURES OF THE KIDS.” She gave me this look and grinned.

“Mari… no, you are not going to, are you?”

I smiled and said “for the old grandbitch, I am going to dress them in clothing too small, with dirty faces and barefoot in the mud, and then send her a fucking 8X10 and tell her I had them professionally taken just for her. I mean after all, wouldn’t you want to see pictures of your hillbilly assed great grandkids before you died?”

I know if I was an evil old grandbitch, I would want to.

I went to bed last night instead of staying up. I was exhausted and I figured… if I went to bed early, I could arise early with the Munson munchkin (the baby) and we could play on the computer early in the wee hours before the savages awoke.

Well, me and Munson munchkin (the baby), awoke this morning. Early. And we came out here to watch some news and drink milkies. And for mommy to have a cup of coffee. And for mommy to change diaper and to change her own diaper because she is bleeding like a fucking stuck pig ( is it because I got my tubes tied? WHAT THE FUCK?). And then, mommy cleaned the turtle tank. And then mommy cleaned some more shit. And then by the time mommy decided to sit down and play her new games that daddy bought her (SimsCity 3000, SimsGolf, SimsAmusementpark and SimsRollerCoaster) …then…

THEN- THE OTHERS WOKE.

Why?
Why do they crowd me?
Besides the fact that it is winter and they have cabin fever.
and are small.
and the fact they need a mother.

WHY COULDN’T THEY JUST STAY ASLEEP ONE FUCKING HOUR MORE?

I can never play on the internet or have an actual FUN diversion anymore because I have three kids.
Because I loved sex so much that I thought it was sexy to have three kids.

I want The Girl to go back to school. NOW. I don’t care about walking in ten feet of snow to get her there, I JUST WANT HER TO GO BACK.

I also want The Boy to go TO school. He needs stimulation in the form of something other than television. He is way too whiney and I often wonder if he needs either medication or just to go to school. He may need both, I don’t care, I just want him to stop WHINING.

I don’t care about taking care of The baby. The baby is easy. He coos and smiles and poops and pees and drinks milk. So what. I can deal with him.

I have come to the conclusion recently, that I love babies. I looove looove loooooooove babies. It’s when they grow up and can talk and bicker and whine and be loud and be bored and stuff… that I don’t like them.

Can I trade my kids in?
No, seriously.
What about that pony I talked about in earlier entries?

Ohhhhh damn. I don’t have cool gallery pics.
Like on Dooce and on Autumn’s blogs. I can’t do that.

So.. plis! Please… deal with the overload of pictures.

Sorry Trini. I was trying to do it for you and your slow ass connection over there so you wouldn’t beat me senselessly.

I will be gentle. I will post only a few things today and then tomorrow.

Notice I said TRY.

My Pretty snow covered yard…

Christmas Tree before the savages awake:

Look! Santa Came!

Everyone enjoying the presents

Except Munson Baby…

like I said, after 15 minutes he gets pissy.

Oh! Wait! He likey!

My husband’s imitation of John Mayer. Excuse the bags of RAPING paper in the foreground.


He will kill me when he sees I have this online. Oh well. SORRY! He stuck his lips way out kinda like Mick Jaggerish, to pretend he was Johnny Boy. He is so mean. He kept screaming “Neee ON! NEEEON!” and strumming The Girl’s guitar violently, before she grabbed it from him.

Taking requests…

Ok, I know that one…

She doesn’t know …

John Mayer is her real father. That is where she gets the guitar genes from. And the big dark circles she inherits from her mother, she is so lucky. Poor kid.

Touching Sissy’s Face…

he is so cool.

Boots. Shorts. Spidey powers.

My son. In shorts. And Spidey boots. Exhibiting his Spidey Powers.

Tokyo A Go-Go…

I am waiting… waiting to WRAP PRESENTS. Yep, my presents are still stashed in my closet waiting, naked, to be wrapped.
Or as hubby says “to be wraped.” LMFAO!

Funny story on the wraping. He comes home the other day and goes “I got some … ” looks around and sees The Girl standing in the hallway and goes ” I got some W-R-A-P-I-N-G paper. It was on sale.” I stand there and try to decipher what the fuck he spelled.

I look over, and The Girl is also trying to decipher… being she can now spell. Duh.

Anyhow, I go “raping? raping? who is raping on sale?” He gives me this look. He says the sentence over in my ear. I start laughing. I go ” Its P-P-ING! not one P!” he goes “No, it’s not.” And the Class Spelling Bee Champion of 1983 comes out in me. “UM YEA… IT IS!” and so we bet 20 bucks on it.

He owes me 20 bucks. I should make him do other things instead.

So back to the naked presents. Wanna know what we got the kids?

The Girl:
Portable CD player (she is six ya know, she wants cool stuff… rolls eyes)
Raven CD… (remember the annoying little girl from the Cosby show? Yea her, with the funny eyebrows? She is now on Disney, and made me run rampant all over gods fucking creation to find her new CD.)
That’s so Raven CD (because I couldn’t find the above CD, I opted for the show’s CD and now The Girl gets two CD’s.)
Clothes
Underwear
2 Bratz Dollz I kinda loathe these things, but they are the “new Barbie”. Whatever. Barbie is Barbie, these are hood rats with lots of gloss on their huge lips, and I hate them. But The girl loves them. I compromise. I buy her the ones that have CLOTHING on and not the ones that look like they belong on the street corner.
Bratz Tokyo-a-GoGo Sushi Lounge Bratz go on trips to Tokyo, ya know. Whats wrong with you? And they eat Sushi too. Sheesh! Don’t you know anything?
Psychedelic Child Guitar Some little acoustic guitar, with cool colors. To bring out the music in her. I hope she plays John Mayer for mommy. I always wanted an acoustic guitar. I thinK I am gonna end up playing with this shit more than her. It’s a real one, just for smaller hands.
Sam and the Owl book good old book I loved as a kid.
Princess Bride DVD
The Princess Diaries DVD two pack set
I think that’s it. I think there’s a few odds and ends in the closet I can’t remember.

The Boy:
Warning: he is obsessed with Spiderman… so there will be lots of it.
Spiderman spy set
Spiderman web shooter
Spiderman underwear
Spiderman DVD set of 1960’s cartoons… the entire series
Various other SPIDER MAN SHIT I CAN’T REMEMBER…. blame the husband. He genetically predisposed some Spiderman shit on The Boy and therefor he is OBSESSED. He sometimes makes us call him SPIDEY.
Sit and Spin light up the good old sit and spin, with lights. WEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
A drum set yes we are retarded. It was cheap.
Some other shit I can’t remember… movies and whatnot, and the Book “David had a bad day”.
Clothes

The Baby:

Boppy Pillow Extraordinaire! a bean shaped pillow with doodads hanging from the thing on top of it.

So he can sit in it and get pissy after ten minutes.
And from the boppy I will transport him to the …

Fisher Price all in one baby to toddler seat! a cool chair that I got The Boy when he was a baby, and he used it until he broke it two months ago. It turns from a small baby seat with doodads that dangle and a vibration to a toddler rocking chair. If you have a baby, I highly recommend this.

And when he gets pissy in this I shall transport him to…

Some thing I found at TJ Maxx with baby lights and stuff… you put them on their belly and they set off these lights that they can oogle at.

Then he will get pissy and I can put him in his crib and he can go to sleep.

Clothes
And some other baby odds and ends… He is small he doesn’t know we don’t have to spend so much on him. I learned this after THREE kids. I wish I woulda been smarter before.

Off I go.
To clothe and wrape naked presents.