Sunday, September 20, 2009

Dear Great Spaghetti God-

Why you gotta hate?

I try to be a good person. I work hard at it, as my natural tendency is to run the other way. But, honestly, this is getting retarded.

Yes. I used the R word. The one the PC police want abolished from the vocab. Suck it.

I have a toddler who is sick, getting better, but sick. Bad enough, as she's 3 years old, and she doesn't understand why she feels like shit. So the tantrums yesterday were colossal. But she's also performing various tricks she's learned from the little shits at preschool. It's a lot of fun.

I have an infant with reflux who is refusing to eat because he has teeth coming in. So on top of the teething pain we have I AM FUCKING STARVING tantrums. He's 4 months old. Cause and effect is not in the lexicon yet.

My husband? He's ready to put a bullet in his head because he has an open tooth with the nerve exposed. Shit keeps getting into it. Massive pain ensues. Did you know that when you feel pain your blood pressure rises? His BP was high enough already, thank you. He's filching my vicodin so he doesn't jump into traffic. My vicodin? Oh that would be for...

My back. My fucking back that the godawful moron anesthesiologist fucked up when she tried multiple times to jam the catheter into my spine for my epidural FOUR months ago. I had 2 decent days this week, O Spaghetti God, but thanks to stress and very bad sleeping arrangements it's about a 7 on the scale again. Take the vicodin? I can't. Someone has to be functional in case anything happens to the kids.

Shall we extend the radius?

My husband's sister has breast cancer. Thanks for that. Selfish, maybe, but since my mother only developed breast cancer because of the ginormous amounts of hormones they put her on so she could get pregnant with me, I don't really truly consider it to run in my family, so I figured Livvie was mostly safe. Nope. Not anymore.

My mother, 78 years old and working full time, is having to take care of my dad's sister who has Alzheimers and is getting way worse. She's getting lost in her own house. Has ZERO clue where her own bedroom is if she wanders out of it in the middle of the night. Puts food from the freezer on the counter and leaves it. Sticks things in the microwave and forgets them. Mom had to remove the knobs from the stove because of An Incident. So thanks for that too.

Dunno what to do here, at this point. Mom says the shit storm is because I'm an agnostic. I find it hard to believe that others would be punished for my "failings."

That is all.

Tuesday, September 01, 2009

'Scuse you, Butt...

Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us. -Pride and Prejudice

Someone I love, and I will not name names, taught me how to burp. I mean, REALLY burp. Like a 7th grade boy who just guzzled a Coke.

I am not a lady.

To go back, I used to burp this little squeak of a sound and say, "Excuse me." It was mortifyingly pathetic. But through careful study and watching (and listening) I figured out how to burp for real. And since I learned I have been working on the alphabet in privacy.

Livvie has decided it is absolutely hilarious. I have noticed that kids become like pets. You do stuff in front of them that you wouldn't even consider doing in front of your mate. You scratch your ass. You pee with them standing RIGHTTHERE staring at you waiting for the chance to flush. And you emit methane gas. It just happens. It goes back to when they were infants and had no clue. Suddenly, they're toddlers, and they GET stuff.

Ok, I do scratch my ass in front of Rich. That isn't the point.

When I burp in front of Rich like that it bothers him. He does it and laughs. But if I happen to open my mouth and shatter the windows he's somewhat put out. Folks, he knew I wasn't a lady when he married me. Trust me (Ok, in the interest of full disclosure he just said to me, "It doesn't make a shit to me. I just roll my eyes to make you think it's inappropriate. Just don't do it at Angus Barn").

Where was I? Livvie? When I burp now Livvie pretends to burp too. Loudly. And she laughs her ass off. Also, a few months ago whenever she farted she would say, "'Scuse you, butt." I have no idea why she started that, but it made us laugh. So now she giggles like a fiend when she says it.

I was burping Jonas tonight, and he finally let out a great one, and I said, "Good job!!!" So I'm wondering how we go from encouraging infants to raise the roof to thinking poorly of it after a certain age.

I'm certain as all get out that Livvie is not going to be a lady. She already can't keep her shirt on, even in public. Forget sitting properly with legs placed together. I guess what we have to work on now is that there's a time and a place for everything. And we have to work on the alphabet.