Day 9: I’m changing my Motherf$*&ing name

I’m changing it to something super difficult to pronounce. Something the kids will never get. I’m no longer answering to Mommy. BOTH kids are going through a HUGE “Mommy!” phase, wherein they yell “Mommy!” over and over for no good reason    to show me something (or nothing)    to get my attention     to see if they can actually push me far enough to make me kill myself. I kid you not, I heard “Mommy” no less than four hundred times today. At many points, the two of them were competing with each other. My children can be very, very loud. Very loud.

The movers worked from 9 until 6 today and unloaded everything. They worked super hard, nonstop.  They reassembled everything that had been disassembled on the other end. I just have to stop and mention how amazing our movers were. I went through hell getting estimates and having really some really huge a$$holes over to my house, but in the end, I met a great person and went with my instincts. I went with the right company for sure. Their driver was great and their men on both ends were incredibly respectful, considerate, helpful and insanely careful with our homes and our possessions.  Their “head” guy today, Dennis, was painfully good at this and gave everyone else very particular instructions, but he knew his stuff. I’ve had experiences from hell with moving companies. This was HUGELY refreshing. I’m not a very good watch-other-people-work person, so I was moving things around and helping most of the time. I can’t tell you how many times one of them told me to stop and asked me what it was that I wanted done. Nothing! I’m just that way. But it was nice that they cared and worked so hard. Ed and I obviously bought everyone lunch and tipped everyone at the end of each day, but I feel like  it was inadequate. I’ve mentioned it about a million times, but moving is stressful to me. However, this move, which is the biggest I’ve ever had to do as far as amount of stuff and responsibility (my first move with kids) was the smoothest ever. I am physically worn to hell and close to as sick as I was when we got home from Ethiopia, but I’ve not had any stress with the actual move. What a nice change, huh? Now, I have no idea whether everything that is boxed is in one piece, but I’ll let you know in the next few days (or years – however long it takes to unpack everything…).

That’s all I’ve got. My kids did SO well. They have been ignored, stepped over, shoo’d this way and that, unintentionally knocked down, accidentally left unfed, etc., but they were huge troopers. No naps again, and yet they hung in there until after 8:00. They’re sound asleep in their new rooms now and I hope they make it until morning. Lucky us, Ed has to be gone from sunrise until midnight tomorrow, thanks to a last-minute but very important trip. I’d totally complain, except that I’m really grateful he has a great job. Funny how a shitty economy and a layoff makes you a little less whiny about things that might have previously sent you over the edge.

Hope you all have a great week!

Day 8: If I wasn’t sick before…

…I’m sure I will be now. I went to urgent care this morning b/c Ed, my mom, and my dad were sick of listening to me hack up my lungs were concerned about me.  I sat in a room full of people with swine flu and other wonderful illnesses.  If I catch something else, I’m going to lose. my. $hit. It took almost three hours. The good news is that I’m not as sick as some of the other people were. The bad news is that I have a sinus infection, bronchitis, and pneumonia. I feel like a lot of you want to come over to my house for dinner or just to hang out in an enclosed space with me. As if the voice isn’t sexy enough (it’s 99% gone) and the hacking super nauseating to hear, I’m coughing out all sorts of good germs.

We abandoned our original plan to drive both cars over here b/c although I could have done it, I really didn’t want to do it. Lazy, right? I’m just pretty beat up and I’ve gone non-stop for three weeks. We unloaded Ed’s car and he managed to get 75% of the stuff we wanted to bring (things we didn’t want the movers handling) into one vehicle. Ed is a MASTER packer. He puts everything all over the ground, spends fifteen minutes planning it out, and then fits an INSANE amount of stuff into one space. You should see him in action. If you had seen everything he planned to put in the Tahoe, you would have laughed at him. Except that he did it. It’s like those clown cars at the circus; it just doesn’t make sense. We only had to leave a few things behind that we’ll get when we’re back for Thanksgiving, but those were things he initially said were staying behind and they’re into pressing, anyway. Although I supposed the Floor Mate might come in handy. Thanks to the movers for leaving that one behind in the middle of the room. ‘Cause it’s easy to miss and all.

I think this was the first time I actually enjoyed the drive, only because I got to sit on my a$$ and do nothing for six hours, the first six hour stretch of time during which I’ve done nothing since I got sick.  I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t stop coughing, but I got to sit.  Although I almost beat the hell out of a bor*der patrol agent who made us dig each and every base of bamboo out of a box I had in the back so as to “inspect” them and view the “growing agent.”  WHAT THE FU*# IS A GROWING AGENT? ‘Cause I call it a fuc#Ing vase of rocks. Six of them. Each with a single stalk of of bamboo. Let me recount for you:

DBag: Hmmm. Looks like this is going to be an agricultural stop. What’s that back there.

Me: Hack, hack, hack. Bamboo.

DBag.: Hmmmm, I’m going to need to see those plants.

Me: Okay. Hack, hack. hack.

Dbag: What’s the best way to get to them?

Me: Not really sure. We’re obviously packed here. I can open the back door (they were sort of wedged between the captains seats between the kids.)

Dbag: Hmmm. Why don’t you hand them to me.

Me, under my breath: Why the hell did you ask  me what the best way to see them is if you’re going to tell me how to do it?

Ed: Fine. Hold on. (Takes off his seat belt, climbs over the seat, pulls out one vase of bamboo. Hands it to him.)

Dbag: Oh! It’s just a bamboo.

Me, under my breath: Oh f$*k me. Kill me now.

Ed: Okay?

DBag: I’m going to need to see that big plant there. I need to see the growing medium.

Ed: They’re all bamboo in vases, just like that one.

Dbag: Okay, please hand me that big plant.

Me: HOLY SHIT! I’M GOING TO THROW MYSELF ONTO THE HIGHWAY.

(Ed hands him yet another bamboo in a vase.)

Dbag: Hmmm. It’s another bamboo in a vase.

Me: Yeah, they’re all single stalks of bamboo in vases. They’re all the same.

DBag: Hmmm. I’m going to need to see the growing agent of that one there.

Me: Seriously?

Dbag: You know, bamboo are supposed to be placed in threes otherwise it’s bad luck.

Me: Yeah, I can see how that plays out. I’m feeling very unlucky right now.

Dbag: Hmmm. Do you have any fresh produce or vegetables in the vehicle.

Me: No. We have a bag of trash.

Ed: Seriously, Laura, I want to go now. Shut it.

Me: No, nothing at all. Our kids have been living off of takeout for two weeks. I don’t remember what fresh produce looks like. I’m tired.

Dbag: Okay, have a safe trip.

Me, under my breath. Yeah, pretty much. Suck my a$$

NOW,  in my defense, I’m pretty much dying here. I go through these stops ALL THE TIME. I’ve done this drive more times than I can count over the past six months. Over and over and over, I sit in line, wait my turn, tell them we’re all U.S. citizens (although it just occurred to me that Molley technically isn’t a U.S. citizen), and then move on. But this? For real? I get needing to take a quick look and asking a question, but really? I have to pull out every last bamboo and vase b/c some border patrol agent is on a power trip?

Well, it WAS under my breath and he didn’t hear it, but apparently Matty did, because the next thing I hear from the back seat is, “Suck my app!”

Nice. I’m always striving to outdo myself in the parenting skillz department.

We got here sort of late, so Ed dropped the kids and I off at our rental apartment and took the things in the car to the new place and unloaded them. I had those little people bathed and ready for bed in NO time! I was a woman on a mission.

That’s all for tonight! The movers arrive at the new place in the morning with all of our things so it’s going to be a looonnnggg day. For now, I have a date with Desperate Housewives and my handy new bottle of cough syrup with codeine!

Good night!

Day 7: Don’t Bother Reading…

…’cause I have nothing. NO.THING. We’re 99.9% ready to go and we’re leaving tomorrow. After I go to urgent care as soon as it opens. We brought both cars back here, but only one is going with us because I’m not entirely sure I can drive the other one tomorrow. My only letdown about that is that I was going to drive the car withOUT the kids, and I was seriously looking forward to seven very quiet hours. Oh well. No big deal – we’ll be back for Thanksgiving in two weeks and Ed works from home or out of town, so we’ll be fine with one car for a few weeks, but still, it’s annoying.

Today was a LOOONNNGGGG day. Long. Every day this week has been long. My body has gotten more of a workout over the past few weeks than it has in a year. Sad, huh? I went up and down the stairs with heavy loads of stuff at least 100 times today. I’ve hauled all sorts of stuff and furniture over the past few weeks. The most pathetic part of all of this is that we didn’t even have to pack or move what we’re taking. I can’t even imagine if we’d had to do it all.

My kids haven’t had naps in five days and they’re thisclose to totally losing it. I would not recommend moving with a one year old and two year old, especially when their lives have not been “normal” since they came home. Mattix began traveling with Ed and me to DC (and elsewhere) all the time six weeks after he came home, and Molley began doing the same to SoCal eight weeks after she came home. They really are amazing little troopers. I’m pretty sure they’ll grow into flexible adults.

My poor babies haven’t gotten one tenth of the attention they need and deserve over the past three weeks. The past three days, however, have been bad.  I feel terrible – I’ve been very sick so I’ve had NO patience whatsoever (I actually yelled today, and I can count one one hand how many times I’ve done that, so it was pretty bad), Ed and I have both been so busy they’ve gotten minimal attention, and they’ve eaten all three meals each day from take-out establishments. I think if they eat another sandwich from Sub*way or Qu!zno’s, they’re going to turn into a giant sammy.

Once we get to our new condo, I have to go back to the apartment we’re renting there, somehow get rid of all the furniture and everything else we bought so that Ed could live there the past five months, and have the keys in by the 15th. Awesome, huh? Anybody in the area need everything to fully furnish an apartment, including all kitchen and bathroom wares? When I suggested to Ed that we rent a fully furnished corporate apartment so as to avoid having to do exactly this in the end, I’m feeling like he should have listened to me.  Anyway…

So there you have it. That’s all I’ve got. This is the biggest waste of a post ever, but I’m not missing a day. Be prepared to hear about a seven hour drive with one sick mama, one worn out dad, and two overtired, stressed out toddlers tomorrow. Or you could do the smart thing and skip the next few days. I doubt they’ll be pretty

Day 6: May not make it to Day 7…

…becuase I’m probably going to DIE!!!  It may be from the black plague, or it may be after I crack another rib. The rib part won’t kill me; it will be me that kills myself because I don’t want to walk around with another (or two) cracked rib(s).  They hurt really badly, especially when you get to carry around a 21 pounder and a 28 pounder, often at the same time.

Anyhoo, I don’t want to complain too much, so I’ll stick with the good stuff. The movers were awesome. They had everything loaded in seven hours. That’s impressive. The distance from our house to the street is long, our home is a two story, and there were a ton of boxes, many of them very heavy, plus all the furniture. And they were quite adept at maneuvering around two very small people who were FASCINATED with the process. They were also very nice men who were polite and funny. We’ve had unfortunate experiences with movers in the past, so I’m pleased that it went so well. As long as everything arrives and in the same condition it was in before it was packed, this will be a great move!

Mattix thought he’d died and went to heaven. He is obsessed with 18 wheelers right now, and they had a 90 foot moving truck. They let him climb into the truck (by walking up the ten foot ramp, which was positively incredible in my kids’ worlds) and walk around  the interior of the truck several times. When they left, they blew the air horn, which scared the ever living hell out of me, but sent Mattix into full on squeals of delight! Good thing Molley is okay with super loud noises. You know what my first thought was, after my heart stopped pounding in my ears? How lucky are we that Mattix is doing so well now and that Molley was treated well and exposed to the world enough to never have a problem in the first place. One year ago, that horn would have sent Mattix into a terrified screaming fit that would have lasted for HOURS. I wouldn’t have been able to console him. He would have been in a true state of panic, physically fighting to get it together. Today? He was thrilled. Molley thought it was awesome. She waved and yelled, “Bye bye!” Good stuff.

My Bug said the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard today. My mom took him upstairs to put him to bed in my old room. She has a photo formal studio portrait of me in my Cotillion dress hanging on the wall. It’s HUGE. Yeah, go ahead, make fun of me. I know. Ed mocks me tirelessly for attending four months of social etiquette classes, attending all sorts of social events, putting on a wedding gown at 17, and attending a huge formal ball. He enjoys making fun of me almost as much as he enjoys golfing or drinking beer. (But seriously, what a freaking waste of money, right?!?! My mouth alone is reason enough for them to put out a hit on me…)

Anyway, Matty finally noticed the photo. He looked at my mom and said, “WOW!!! Mommy’s soooooooo pretty!” Oh my gosh! That is the sweetest thing ever, isn’t it? Too bad the photo’s from when I was 17 and given the events of the past few days, I look like a full on cross dressing dude lately, but anyway, it was good for my heart, not my self esteem. Kids are just too precious.

We have lots of stuff to take care of at the house tomorrow, so let’s hope I start  feeling a little better. I’m doing well keeping a good attitude and being patient with my kids, but I’m not going to lie; feeling like this makes it very difficult for me to keep plugging along and being minimally kind to everyone around me. If I’m not better by Monday, I’ll have to accept defeat and start antibiotics. I HATE doing that, but I’m not in the mood for pneumonia right now. My fingers are crossed I won’t even need to worry about it.

Day 5: Injecting a little white trash into my childrens’ lives

The packers came this morning. I went to bed next to Ed at 2:00 a.m., but apparently woke up next to Kevin mothereffing Federl!ne at 4:00 a.m. because my husband rolled out of bed and dressed himself like freaking KFed. I’ll show you in a minute. It’s bad. Two hours. Two hours is apparently all it takes to lose the man you married and gain Brittney’s leftovers. Whatever. It’s Laura, Bitch. And this is pretty much my life.

We ran around, exhausted, to take care of the rest of the small stuff so that the packers could get everything ready for the movers.

Then we spent the day outside in our backyard, like complete and total white trash. We got rid of all of our patio furniture (yet another plus to moving out of the scorching hot desert hell is that we can get nice patio furniture with…waith for it…CUSHIONS (gasp!), not sunbrella covered nice-looking but not crazy comfortable stuff), so we sat outside on freaking lawn chairs. From Walmart. You think I’m messing with you. I’m so not.

Even better, Ed took the day off but had to do a lot of work, as some of his major accounts are coming in. No big deal, except that it only added to the Dub T situation b/c he got his laptop out, plopped his KFed ass in it the Wally World chair, and worked while my children ran around playing in the DIRT. The dirt, you guys. Remember, there’s nothing left out back. The movers packed all of the toys we’re taking and I got rid of the rest in my purge-the-home-of-the-daycare-look fest. So, they literally played in the dirt. For seven hours. Then, Mattix convinced Ed to turn on the sprinklers, so they ran around NAKED for another two in the dead grass (we don’t overseed in the winter…we’re all sorts of green around here). Naked. You might think, “But Laura, it’s November. Surely you wouldn’t let you children run around naked in the cold sprinklers!” to which I’d reply, “Ahhh, yes, that would be true, except that the high was 95 today. Ninety freaking five.

So it’s 95 out, we’re hanging out on the back patio like Dub T, and I’m sitting there with KFed, minus the giant gut, and I’m coughing like I have TB again, and so help me, if I break another f*#king rib or two…and I’m all, “Dude. This is it. I’m taking 20 Nyq*uil and not waking up. I can’t handle it.” And Ed was all, “That’s probably a good idea, ”cause you’re wearing that dress that looks like a nightgown” and I was all, “Shut the fu3k up, Kfed” and he was like, “Whatever, it was cold this morning” and I was like, “Yeah, sure, it must have been really cold. So cold that you got up and put on your white undershirt and track pants. That makes sense.” And then I just drank my fourth diet coke of the day and sat back down on my lawn chair.

And lest you guys think I’m just being funny….

Isn’t he so cute with his wood spoon in his Cozy Coupe?  A wood spoon. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

I’m going to bed. I’m pretty sure I’m having a recurrence of my post-Ethiopia TB/Black Plague/Black lung/emphysema illness. We’re at my parents house because sleeping among an entire house full of boxes freaks me out, but lucky us, our mover likes “to get an early start” so we have to be back by 6:00 a.m. to meet him. Dude, I’d like to win the lottery (or at least not be married to Brit Brit’s leftovers), but we can’t all have what we want. I guess he gets what he wants, though, because I agreed that we’d be there. Good night!

Day 4: Hooollllllyyyyy Hell

Well, I have more than just bitching today, so that’s a good thing. First, we had Matty’s surgery followup appointment. The first surgery was a success!! His tracking is a million times better and the only noticeable (to the doctor, not even to me) remaining issue is that he has slight trouble tracking properly at the very furthest point in the periphery in both eyes.  However, this isn’t something that requires additional surgery. He will have to see the ophthalmologist several times a year for the next few years, then twice a year or so until he is finished growing. We’ll continue to keep his eyes on track with alternate and occasional patching so as to avoid allowing his brain to shut off vision to one eye or the other. This might sound bad, but it’s not. It’s great. It’s phenomenal. Remember that this issue is totally and completely unrelated to the one the scared the living hell out of me. This issue is something I thought would need addressing from the very beginning, although neither his pediatrician nor I thought it was a severe as it was. Regardless, the congenital defect issue isn’t going to affect Matty’s vision (again, this is very, very fortunate, given how severe it is) and the surgery all but corrected the other problem (and as I said, we will still have to address it as he grows, but not with surgery), so we’re happy, happy, happy!

I’m still super sick. I sound like…well, I’m not going to type here what I’ve been saying. It’s totally inappropriate and probably offensive to 99% of people. It’s totally foul, too, but I need all the humor I can get right now to keep plugging along. Anyway, I sound nasty and I feel worse. 

However, my kids must have known I was at the very end of my coping rope. They decided to stop beating the hell out of each other and having monumental breakdowns every ten minutes and went back to their normal selves. Thank goodness. I know why they’ve been acting out and I don’t blame them at all. Ed and I have been totally wrapped up in getting our lives together to move to another state, Ed’s been buried in work at the same time and had to leave town for the past three days, I’ve been spending all of my time getting things organized, and I’ve been so sick the past few days that I engaged in some very minimal, inadequate parenting. For example, yesterday in the late morning,  Molley went down for an early nap, but Matty wasn’t tired. I seriously thought I was going to kick the bucket. (That was shortly after I pulled my sorry naked ass up off the floor to put on a robe.) I dumped two containers of those balls that go in the ball pit into Matty’s crib, gave him some milk, and let him entertain himself for two hours while I slept. I know, right? But honestly, it was the best I could do.

Today, for some reason, they went back to being normal – kind to each other 90% of the time and normal brother-sister who are less than a year and a half apart the other 10%. I’ll take it. They also cracked me the hell up today. Here are a few highlights, beginning with a conversation Matty and I had in the car:

Mattix: “Mommy! I’m gonna kick Molley, please.”

Me: “Seriously? You want to kick your sissy?”

Mattix: “Yep. My wanna kick Molley NOW!”

Me: “Really? You want to KICK. YOUR. SISTER?”

Matty” “Uh huh.”

Me: “Great. You do that. When we get there, you can go ahead and kick your sister. But if you kick your sister, I’m going to kick you. Remember how I said that whatever you do to her, I’m going to do to you?”

Mattix: “Yes! I kick Molley, you kick Mattix!”

Me: “Great. Consider it done. Where would you like me to kick you?”

Mattix: “On my head. I kick Molley on the head. Mommy kick me on the head.”

Me: “Okay, when we get there, you kick Molley on the head and I’ll kick you on the head. That sounds just great. We’ll all have an awesome time.”

Me, in my head: What the $%(# is wrong with me? Am I really having his conversation with my two year old? I must have taken too many D@yQuil. I’m like one step away from microwaving my kids like those crazy ass m*eth heads…

So, we got where we were going and as soon as I went to unbuckle Matty from the car seat, he reminded me that he was going to kick Molley in the head. I was all, “Fine, dude, go for it.” So we went over to Molley side and got her out of the car seat. I set her down and was all ready for it to go down. I’ll admit to being slightly curious how he was going to kick his sister, who is just three inches shorter than him, in the head. And then he did it. Right there in the parking lot.

Mattix leaned over and gave Molley a HUGE kiss on the forehead.

Yeah, apparently, I’ve never noticed that Matty says “kick” when he means “kiss.” Because he also says “kick” when he really does mean “kick,” so in my defense, it was an easy mix up.

Then Matty announced, “Okay, Mommy, you kick me now!”

I felt like piece of crap. But it was funny, so there’s that.

At our next stop, I went to pull Mattix out of the car seat and he sort of leaped out at me. He totally thumped me in the head. I laughed because I thought it was cute that he was so excited and said, “Ouch, buddy! You just hit me in the head!” to which he responded, “I’m so, I’m so soooorrrryyyyy, Mommy!” (If your kid watches Gabba, you’ll know he got that from Muno in one of the episodes where Muno messes up all over the place (like he always does) and  then pathetically sings the “I’m so sorry” song.) I told him it was okay, it was an accident, and thank you for apologizing. Except that he didn’t drop it. He told me sorry like ten more times. Then, once we were in T@rget, he added, “for hitting you.” So he kept saying, “I’m so sorry for hitting you, Mommy.” I told him he only needed to apologize once and that it was an accident, so it was okay. But oh no, that wasn’t good enough. He then added “last night” to the end of that little phrase, and he RAN through T@rget SHOUTING, “I’m SOOOOO sorry for hitting you last night, Mommy!” He had this sweet, sincere, apologetic voice and he said it about 100 times. Based on the looks I was getting, people either thought I beat my kid then said that to him the next day, or I was a domestic violence victim who had been given that line on a regular basis. If you want to avoid spending money needlessly in T@rget on things you had no intention of purchasing when you arrived, which we all know is easy to do, take Mattix with you. That crap will get you the hell out of there in no time.

Speaking of apologizing, I now know for a fact that my 14 month old Molley Girl is really a three year old trapped in a little 14 month old body. I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned some of the crazy stuff she understands, says, can do, etc., but today she blew me away. I was getting her ready for bed and she was squealing and kicking. She gets super cute and excited when we do the bedtime routine and I put lotion on her, tickle her, sing to her, etc. She always scrunches her little legs up and kicks them over and over. Tonight I was leaning over to blow a zurber on her tummy and she kicked me in the face. It actually hurt. I said, “Owwww! Careful, babe!” And I swear on my life, she said, “Kick. Sorry, Mommy!” Sorry!”  Then she reached up, rubbed my arm, and said, “Niiiccceeee,” which is what I used to have the kids do when they hurt each other intentionally. (I would take the offender’s hand, rub the other kids arm with it, and say, “Niicceeee” at the same time.) Anyway,  she is crazy smart and perceptive. It’s very clear to me she understands the concept of apologizing. She didn’t mean to kick me and she immediately apologized for it. I would never expect her to apologize, nor would I that of a 14 month old. She blows my mind. She not only identifies all of her major body parts, but she announces them as she does it and has been doing this for two full months. Her words are as clear as a bell. She can count to ten when she’s so inclined. She’s learning all of the Gabba songs that Matty sings (her newest is the “inside voice” song, which she completes with a finger to her lips and a “shhhh”), and is now working on colors and shapes. And the craziest part is that I haven’t really worked with her on anything like I should. Life has just been so hectic since she came home. She picks everything up from Matty, from watching Gabba (I know, don’t even say it), or from us talking and singing in the car. I asked the doctor if she thought they could have made a mistake on her birth certificate by a few months, to which the doctor responded, “Not unless they were off by twelve months and she is freakishly small, because she’s ahead of herself by that much in several areas. No, she’s 14 months old”  It’s hard for me sometimes because she still has the emotional capacity and patience of a 14 month old. I often treat her the same way that I treat Mattix because she’s not a typical 14 month old, but I have to remind myself that when I tell her not to do something, or when she’s frustrated or tired, she acts exactly the way she should: like a baby. I know that sounds strange, but I’m telling you, she’s so similar to Mattix (at his current age)  in so many ways; her comprehension is insane, her vocabulary is freakishly huge, and her ability to learn and absorb are off the charts. As such, it’s very, very easy for me to get frustrated when she behaves just like she should because I often think of her as similar to Matty in age. She really is that far ahead. But she’s just a baby. She’s the size of a baby and has the emotional capacity of a baby. She has the patience of a baby (none). She looks like a big girl to me because Matty is so little, but she’s not. She’s 31 inches tall and she weighs 21 pounds. She’s in the 45th-ish percentile for height and the 5th for weight.  She no longer eats like a piggy (she’s been eating normal quantities of food) and she’s no longer making huge developmental (especially physical) leaps. She caught right up as far as growth and now she’s just a regular 14 month old. With a giant brain. And a huge desire to be just like her big brother, which I know accounts for a lot of this.

Anyway, all of those things today made me smile. And now, I’m just dying inside because I’m listening to Mattix sing “Cumbaya” over the monitor as he tosses around in his crib and goes through is own little bedtime routine. I didn’t even realize he knew the lyrics or the tune. It’s a song I sing to Molley, actually. I might have sang it to Matty when he was much, much younger, but not in the past year. He’s getting all of the lyrics and the tune correct and my heart is melting into a puddle in my chest. He is going through a MAJOR singing phase and is singing so many songs. He spends half of his day singing and I LOVE it. I make a big deal about how much I love to hear him sing b/c when he first started doing it, he would get embarrassed when I would stop to listen. But now that he knows I’m so into, he’ll announce, “Mommy! I’m singin’!” when he wants my attention. Today’s new song was “Sex on Fire” by Kinds of Leon. Rock it out, Matty! I’d much rather him learn that than some M!ley Cyr*s shit on RadioFreakingDisney. Just saying.

The Holy Hell title is in honor of the fact that I’ll be up all night, preparing for the packers, who will arrive at 8:00 a.m., and I’m pretty sure I now have the black plauge again.  Wish I were exaggerating. Who knew that even when you’re having packers and movers come, you STILL have a TON of work to do to get ready for it?  And as if that didn’t suck enough, Ed’s plane was delayed by a few hours, so he won’t be home until 11 or midnight. Freakin’ awesome. Seriously, you guys, if my kids weren’t so hilarious and adorable today, I’d be on my way to the closest busy street to lay my ass down in traffic. Man, that’d be like hitting a deer…

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Stupid WP is trying to ruin NaBloPoMo for me. It didn’t upload this at 8:30, when I hit submit. Now it’s 12:20, which is technically a day late, but I’m still counting myself as being on track. I’m so not losing the whole month b/c WP bites sometimes.

Day 3: Join AAA

Yeah, that’s what I’ve got for today. You should really join AAA if you’re not already a member. I’m serious. I paid for my membership about four months ago, after not having it for several years (for no good reason). I even paid for the upgraded membership option b/c of all the driving between two states I was doing with the kids. So glad I had it tonight when the battery in my SUV died in the parking lot of the dry cleaner.

Crappy day. I was very, very sick this morning…like, lying naked on the floor, sweating profusely, head spinning, trying to stay conscious after making a valiant effort to shower kind of sick. Molley had an appointment for her second (seasonal) flu shot this morning and I was determined to make it. Only I ended up naked in the fetal position on the floor, so it didn’t work out. Now if that image won’t ruin your appetite for a day or seven, I don’t know what will. If you’re on a diet, you’re welcome. If that’s not inspiration/motivation/utter disgust that will prevent you from eating for the coming week, I don’t know what is.

After being the world’s worst mom today b/c I was too sick to do much, I loaded up on OTC cold and flu drugs and  stupidly left the house this evening to go to the dry cleaner so that the clothes would all be back in time for the packers on Thursday. I regretted that little decision for two hours after I attempted to start my car. I knew it was the battery right away, so that’s the good news. AAA sent out their “battery” guy who drives a minivan full of batteries. $140 and two hours and I was good to go. Thank goodness, but seriously, guys, this sort of stuff always happens to me when Ed’s out of town.

Really, my intention for NaBloPoMo is not to whine about my days. But I really don’t have anything else. If the camera had been downstairs this afternoon, I would have had an adorable photo of Matty setting up a picnic with all the play dishes from his kitchen, his (real) grilled cheese sandwich, and three of his stuffed animals. So precious. Everyone got a few bites of sandwich in their bowls and pretend Diet Cokes in their cups. I love his imagination. But the camera wasn’t downstairs and I wasn’t sure that I wouldn’t die on the way up to get it, so you’ll have to use *your* imaginations.

Tomorrow. New Day. Gotta be better…

Day 2: Swine Flu

Well, I’ve at least made two days so far! I’m posting now, during the littles’ nap,  b/c there are no guarantees that I’ll still be alive tonight after the kids are in bed. I wasn’t feeling well last night and sort of knew where it was going, but I didn’t expect to wake up this morning feeling like I’d been run over by a Mac truck and sounding a like I’d smoked two packs of Marlb0ro Reds during the night. I’ve never actually smoked Marlb0ro Reds, but I’m pretty sure that if I had, I’d sound exactly like I do right now. I’m sooo far beyond sexy phone whore voice that it’s not funny. I’m straight into nasty 75 year old lifelong smoker with emphysema. And I actually feel and look worse than I sound. Everything will be fine as long as the kiddos don’t catch this.  (I’m kidding about the swine flu, I think. I don’t actually know what I have.  I just know everything hurts, I alternate between hot and cold, my head feels like it’s going to explode, and I don’t have time for this.)

I enjoyed a few hours of major panic today when I called the moving company to ask a question and was informed that they were bought out and “moved offices over the weekend.”  But, as these things always go, nobody knew about it (besides senior execs, obviously) until the day the move happened. And our date wasn’t on the books, so I started to freak out a little. I called our salesman, who, it turns out, had been laid off unexpectedly. I felt so badly because I really liked him; he was good at his job, honest, and nice, three characteristics that were markedly absent from every other person who came to our house. He’s the person who found the new home for our dog.  Ed and I were just there nine months ago and it sucks. He had no idea it was coming and had been with the company for twelve years. So I stopped panicking about the move and started focusing on what matters. A few hours later, I rec’d a call and was told that everything will still go as planned (and for the price we’d been quoted, which was my main concern). Anyway, this economy is horrible and as much as I just love reading about how we’re no longer in a recession and things are on the “upswing,” I’d really love to stop seeing so many people lose their jobs, the whole reason we’re moving to another state right now. Hard to trust all of the reports when they are coming from the same people who insisted we weren’t in a recession…until they decided we were and had been for a full year.

That’s all for now. I promise my daily posts won’t be boring, mundane recounts of my boring, mundane days. I have lots of stuff I’ve been meaning to talk about/discuss and now maybe that will happen.

NaBloPoMo (??), Surgery Update, and Halloween

Today is the first month of NaBloPoMo and I’m pretending I’m going to do it. I give myself until Wednesday to fail. The packers are coming on Thursday, the movers are loading on Friday, we’re driving on Sunday or Monday, and they’re unloading on Tuesday or Wednesday. What do you think? Any bets on how long I’ll last???

Thanks so much for all of the positive comments and emails regarding Matty’s surgery. It went SO well! I was very pleased with how well he came out of anesthesia that I’ve been saying it was great when I don’t actually know whether it was successful. However, I can already see a difference in how well his eyes track and neither Ed nor I have really seen him do the head tilt and turn combo that he often did to compensate, so I feel like it might have been a success, or at least a partial one. We have an appointment with the eye surgeon on Wednesday, so we’ll know more then.

Regardless, he came out of anesthesia quite well for the FIRST time. The anesthesiologist drugged him heavily, then gave him anti-nausea drugs, so he woke up super slowly, all sorts of narc’ed up and groggy. BEST way to do it. I think it’s pretty ridiculous that he had both eyes cut open and woke up far better than he did when he had a stupid non-invasive brain MRI. Regardless, I was so happy that he wasn’t so traumatized. His eyes were horrible looking messes at first, but within 24 hours, all you could see were the incisions, stitches, and a little redness immediately surrounding those areas. One was swollen a little bit for a few days, but for the most part, nothing bad at all.

Matty woke up in the middle of the night on the first night, called for me (not crying, just calling), got into bed with Ed and me, and just laid there in the dark for almost two hours, snuggling, rubbing our faces and hair, telling us that he loved us, and being unbelievably sweet. That’s the first time Mattix has ever voluntarily stayed in bed with us and snuggled like that. He didn’t really move much except to roll to face one of us, then roll to face the other.   I loved it. Around 4:00 a.m., I told him it was time to go back to sleep because Mommy and Daddy were tired and it was still night. I asked him if he’d like to stay in our bed, but he said, “No, thank you! My crib, please,” and he went right back to sleep. He didn’t get up until 7:15, which is insanely late in Matty’s world. Ed brought him back to our room where he climbed into bed with me, looked right at me, and announced, “Mommy! Bofe my eyes allllll better!”  It was so hard for me not to cry. I just love my little bug.

We had an amazingly fun Halloween. I swear, just when you think you can’t take any more of the whining, the crying, the fighting, and whatever else they throw your way when you’re least capable of handling it (i.e., trying to move), you’re reminded how precious and perfect your kids are. Both Mattix and Molley were SO into Halloween.  I LOVED every minute of it. My little 14 month old Molley Monster, who was an ADORABLE little elephant, ran up to each and every house with her pumpkin and said, “Ticker Teet!” She would then squeal with delight when the person would drop a piece or two of candy into her pumpkin and say, “Tank yoooouuuuu!” in this voice…her thank you voice is the sweetest voice ever. She was getting very tired by the end, so Ed though maybe she should skip the last few houses, but she about threw a huge fit each time, insisting, “Get down!” so she could catch up to Matty and do it again.

Mattix was the cutest Buzz Lightyear ever born. He was more excited about dressing up as Buzz than he has been about anything to date. I bought his costume a long time ago because I’d asked him whether he wanted to be Buzz Lightyear for Halloween and he about fell out of his chair with excitement. I’m not totally sure he really knew what the Halloween business was about, but he sure got the idea of being Buzz. I put it in the closet and didn’t tell him, but two weeks ago, Ed and I thought we’d better try it on him. He was sooo thrilled. He couldn’t get it on fast enough, insisted on every last piece (down to the gloves), and was really bummed when we took it off of him. From that night until Halloween, he asked me for his costume every single day. So, when we pulled it out last night to put it on him, he went nuts! He carefully helped me put everything on him, insisted, “I look in mirror, Mommy!” and about died when he saw himself. His smile could have lit up a football stadium. He ran up to every house, announced, “I’m Buzz Lightyear! Trick or Treat!” and remembered to say “Thank you!” almost every time.  Both of the kids’ laughter, squeals, and joy were contagious. I couldn’t have asked for a more joyful night.

Ed and I went out on Friday night sans kids for like the second time since Molley came home and had an awesome time at a great concert with friends, so our weekends was pretty much perfect. I won’t embarrass my friends with details of the night, but it was super fun. Saturday was a little rough for a while and Ed and I laughed about how we used to be able to sleep off the fun, but I wouldn’t trade that for the world…even if I was just slightly jealous of my friends! Of course, I wasn’t jealous of how much worse shape they were in. he he he!

Heere’s what you care about…

 

Have you given up on me? :)

I nearly forgot my blog address!

The short story is that we’re right in the middle of a move, dealing with Matty’s medical situation, and preparing for his surgery tomorrow morning.

But we all know I can’t keep anything short, so here’s the long story. We’re right in the middle of a move that came about sort of suddenly when I hit my wall with the driving between two states with two babies all. the. damn. time and staying in an apartment while in the other state, where the kids share a room, where said room sharing stopped working on the last trip.

I really did hit my wall. It takes a lot. Trust me. If you’ve been around me the past two years, you’ll know that’s true. It takes a LOT for me to finally say, “Nope. Can’t do this any more. Done.”

So, we found a new place, dealt with all the paperwork and whatnot, and got that situation in order. The kids and I were supposed to stay for two more weeks, but then I hit an even bigger wall – a really huge one made of concrete, I think – so I woke up the morning after all the paperwork was done, told Ed to load the car, and I left with both kids. I have to say that even though he wouldn’t admit it, Ed was probably relieved b/c the kids were so CRAZY that I don’t know how he could even concentrate on work. I couldn’t even think clearly. Nobody was napping, sleeping schedules were a mess, and everyone was on edge. And that was it. I said that next time I come back, it’s going to be to meet the movers so they can unpack all of our $hit ’cause I’m d.o.n.e.

Nice attitude, huh?

For the past week and a half, I’ve been TEARING through our home, weeding everything out, donating tons of stuff, selling some on Cr@ig’s List (LOVE Cr@ig’s, by the way), and attempting to get everything in order for the packers and the movers. It’s ridiculous how much work this is when I’m not even doing the packing or the moving. Oh, wait, that’s not all. I’ve dealt with several dishonest, nasty, irritating moving companies. I told one guy to get out of my house and another that if I wanted an ass pounding, I’d bend over and ask for it, but because I wasn’t in the mood, I was going to take a pass. I felt like I was on Punk’d most of the time. What a joke.

DON’T LOVE MOVING COMPANIES.

However, right when I was about to start preemptively punching the sales guys/estimators in the face as they walked through my front door, we got lucky. Great guy, honest, helpful. AND? He helped me out with one of the most difficult decisions I’ve made. We found a new home for my doggy.

I can’t talk too much about it or I’ll start crying again like I did for the first three days, but basically she has spent the last six months living under my bed or under the ottoman in the loft. When we’re in the other state, she lives under the coffee table.  She has HATED her life for a long, long time. We even discussed antidepressants with the vet about three months ago, but part of the medication plan is working with the dog and her circumstances to improve them so she can go off the meds. Unless the kids are going to age about five years in a few months and I’m going to stop being drop dead tired all the time, the circumstances around here are not changing. My dog is soooo good with the kids. SO good. Way better than any dog, especially an eight year old one, could possibly be. She’s NEVER once snapped at or bitten them. In fact, there have been times where I know they’ve deserved it. They’re very nice to her, but they love her like babies love dogs – rough and tumble. They lay on her, bear hug her, dress her up, put Molley’s hair bows in her hair, make efforts to “comb” her hair, etc. I’m always on them, but they’re little kids and this is what little kids do. I’ve been talking about it so as to maybe move in this direction for about six months. This move prompted me to finally do the right thing b/c of where we’re moving. More on that in a minute. Anyway, it was HORRIBLE and hard and sad and I felt like someone was stomping on my heart. I cried and cried like a little school girl at the new family’s house. Thank goodness they’re so nice or they might have called the cops. I didn’t do well. The kids said goodbye, but I know they’re too young to totally understand what happened, which is a very good thing. Matty and Molley both still talk about her every day as if she’s still here, but they’re not upset. Every time one of them says her name, *I* cry, but they’re okay.

Her new family is amazing, perfect, and loving. They have another little dog – one of the things we would have needed to do to make Gidgie happy was to get another dog, but I can barely handle what we have going on so it wasn’t going to happen - and an 11 year old girl and a 13 year old boy who were SO excited to have a sweet little lap dog. The young girl was just in love with her from the moment she met Gidgie. My dog is that kind of dog – just so sweet and easy to love. The woman who took her has been so kind and has emailed me almost every day to let me know how she’s doing. Today’s update was the best – she’s now playing with their other little dog, which just so happens to be a Chihuahua mix. My parents’ two dogs are Chi mixes and Gidg ADORES them, so I knew this was the perfect home for her. She also gets to sleep in bed with the kids or the parents and is treated like royalty. Lately, I’ve barely had time to pet her. Isn’t that horrible?  Ever since Mattix came home, he became my priority, then Molley, and then on top of it all, staying well,  dealing with their medical stuff, trying not to die myself, and living in two states…the dog got the short end of the stick and I knew it was super selfish to keep her. My heart is breaking still, but she’s happy, so that’s what matters. But I’m really, really sad.

As far as where we’re moving, I’m beyond excited. Moving is icky for me…I’m one of those people that finds it very unsettling…but where we’re moving is indescribably perfect. Same size as our house, but it’s a condo, so there’s not a “personal” three car garage garage. So, basically, we’re having to weed out everything in our garage (minus the cars!) and pare down to what we want to keep b/c it has to fit in two “storage lockers” that are the length of two parking spaces. In place of the yard is a HUGE deck that’s about the same size as our yard with amazing views of the bay and downtown. Same size house, but a few less rooms, less storage, etc. So MASSIVE downsizing. This is a VERY good thing. We’re heavily entertaining the possibility of moving overseas in two years, so this is a great place to begin preparing for something like that, should we decide to do it.

Which leads me to the next issue I’ve dealt with this past week. It’s a little thing called overcompensation. I now realize that it is what I did with Mattix for a solid year in an effort to mitigate the fact that my Bug hadn’t ever seen or touched a freaking TOY for the first ten months of his life, despite the fact that I KNOW many families did just what we did and took lots and lots of them to his orphanage. Yes, I attempted to make up for that by buying him everything under the sun. I went through all of my kids toys and realized that if you walked into the toy department of T@rget, you’d find that we had just about every last toy for the three and under crowd. In our backyard was every large yard toy possible – swing set, play house, sandbox, water table, Cozy Coupes, trucks, basketball hoops, baseball Ts (like a two year old even gives a $hit about a baseball T) and more. In the garage was an insane amount of ride on toys, wagons, bikes, etc. And in our house was a flipping day care center. I’m truly ashamed of my behavior. I’m not being sarcastic for once; I mean it. It was ridiculous. It won’t happen again. I’ve talked with family about gifts for birthdays/Christmas – one “big” item and only a few small things, which could include clothes, and I’ve talked to Ed about how I could have really screwed up my kids. I believe that it’s impossible to spoil children when it comes to love, affection, attention, discipline, etc. Basically, I don’t think you can love your kids too much or give them too much attention. HOWEVER, I think it’s very easy to spoil children with stuff, and I wouldn’t ever want them to gain a sense of entitlement b/c *I* had an issue, especially when they’re so young. This whole purging was a result of a necessary moving situation, but it’s been a very good thing. I got rid of 2/3’s of their stuff, yet if you walked around here, you’d never know it. They still have PLENTY of toys and possessions. PLENTY. It gave me an opportunity to realize what they actually like, and what just takes up space. For example, Matty loves his train table and his Lego table, but didn’t care about half the toys I had upstairs. The great thing is that Mattix is just young enough that giving away a lot of toys didn’t affect him. I sold a lot of the yard toys on Craig’s and he was more than happy to help load them into people’s cars.

Anyway, I’m done with that. My mom told me that it’s okay b/c they are still young enough that they don’t have a sense of entitlement yet and that at least I realized this before they gained one.  Also, I never bought them things when we were in stores and they “asked.” I mean, obviously only Matty could ask, not Molley, but that never happened. It was more of, “Oh, Matty, by the way, here’s a new truck!” And then I’d sit there and hope he loved it. So I guess I want to put it in context. I don’t have a child that breaks down begging and crying b/c he wants something in a store. Usually when we’re out, he’ll look at toys and then put them back and happily leave without them. He’s not yet old enough to ask for a toy or throw a fit when I say “no.” I’m sure that’s coming….

Beyond that, I’m a pretty neat person. I don’t really keep crap. So, the fact of the matter is that this is time consuming b/c I’m weeding through things that aren’t just random junk and eliminating the unnecessary, but the unnecessary isn’t really crap. It’s going really well, but I’m VERY worn out, the kids aren’t getting the attention they need and deserve and are acting out accordingly (a lot), and I’ve been working all of our medical appointments in between everything.

Before I move in a direction of bitching, I found the following quote the other day:

Our attitude determines whether we tell the truth or lie, act or procrastinate, advance or recede, and by our own attitude we and we alone actually decide whether to succeed or fail. Attitude determines choice, and choice determines results. Attitude is everything.”

The first part of that sort of applies to someone who came back into my life after many, many years. I don’t have anything to say about that here, but it’s a situation that hurt me and bummed me out. I’m not the dumb, naive girl often ever, so I felt really upset that on the rare occasion that I was totally trusting, I took one for the team. And the worst part is that *I* am the one who recognized the situation for what it was and had to walk away from it. Not even the person who created it. Despite what my mom told me the other day, I think that I look at most situations cynically and with a critical eye. Or maybe I’m cynical and un-trusting except when it comes to people I care about. I don’t know. What I do know is that I don’t like what happened, it had nothing to do with me and wasn’t my issue, but in the end, it hurt my feelings. It sucked.

But anyway, the point of the quote – that attitude is everything – is what I’m hanging onto right now.  Moving ain’t my thing. I’ve heard many times that for some people, moving ranks third to death and divorce as far as trauma. I hate to admit it, but I think that could apply to me.

However, ever since our first adoption, I’ve changed. A lot. I barely recognize many parts of myself as compared to the person I was two and a half years ago. I’m capable of so much more than I ever thought, and I’ve always been capable of A LOT. Before my kids, I’d been through a lot, but I had nooooo idea what “a lot” was.  Perspective, right? I didn’t sleep for six months while I stayed up all night, held down, and rocked a child that screamed bloody murder and punched me in the face. I learned how to teach a child what it meant to be treated like a human being. I learned how strong – emotionally and physically - that I am.  I mean, really, we’re just moving. And so I’m approaching this, which is much less significant,  like I have everything else over the past two years: with a positive attitude (or at least the most positive attitude I can muster).  I’m going to do my best to focus on the good parts and deal with the rest. I never thought I’d be able to travel to a foreign country with limited electricity, dirty water, and no food that I could eat and love every minute of my experience. I never thought I’d lay in bed while we were there  with some weird sickness that made me feel like I’d had a horrible flu virus for two weeks, when in fact I had it for just eight hours, curled up in a ball, freezing and sweating alternately, and think, “I’m going to be fine. As long as I don’t dehydrate, I’m going to be fine. And I have to be fine…so much more to see!” So, yeah, we’re just moving and I’m going to be fine.

And to end on a really, really selfish note, if I haven’t commented on your blog in the past two months, can you either leave me a link here or email it to me? First and foremost, I have a few hundred unread posts in Reader, so there’s a good chance I’m just behind. Second, several friends have started private blogs and those emails with that info got lost in my inbox among the 3,500 plus UNREAD emails that live there. Finally, as for existing blogs, one of my kids (I won’t give the culprit away – he he he) got a hold of my HELL (aka DELL) while I had Google Reader open. I don’t know what happened, but what I do know is that there are now approximately half the number of blogs that there used to be in Reader. I need to get back in the loop! If you send me an email, I’ll make sure to sit down on my computer (vs. the Crackberry) and go through and add each one. THANK YOU!

Lots of positive thoughts and/or prayers for Matty’s surgery tomorrow, please. I HATE it when he goes under anesthesia. Compared to some kids, I know it’s not a lot, but this is his fourth time under in a year and the effects suck. I really appreciate the advice you guys offered on my post about that and the emails you sent. I talked to the anesthesiologist and we’re going to try something different this time. Hopefully it will be easier on him. Regardless, this surgery will be on both of his little eyes and it makes Mommy Laura nervous. Thank you!