The Death of Me

[flickr id=”6087274981″ thumbnail=”small” overlay=”true” size=”small” group=”” align=”left”]At first I thought it might be the special needs babies, toddlers, kids…

I thought it might be the mountains of paperwork to deal with it all.

The endless doctor visits, medical terminology, therapists and IEP’s.

No. It’s not going to be any of that.

It’s going to be 1 word.

TEENAGER.

The surly attitude. The lack of common sense. The lack of respect. The lack of hygiene.

In brief shining moments you see the brilliance of his brain. The kindness of his heart.

Covering it all is the teenitude. The fact that we, as his parents, are just the biggest jerks, the meanest people, and so frickin’ annoyingly embarrassing.

According to the Scout leaders they see it all the time…and then there is the “lightbulb moment” when it all clicks and he becomes a human being.

We wait for that day.

Or death.

Whichever comes first.

Right now I’m thinking it will be death.

The Curious Case of the Missing Underwear

[flickr id=”6247831361″ thumbnail=”small” overlay=”true” size=”small” group=”” align=”left”]Angel and Riley have the same amount of underwear. Riley has Dora, and Angel has Littlest Pet Shop. I made sure of this so that I would know who would need new and when and also to keep them separate since they wear the same size.  It can get confusing w/ some Irish Twins in the house.

So last week I started to realize that as I did the laundry I was missing a LOT of Angel’s Littlest Pet Shop. They weren’t in the laundry, or in her room. Where could they be?

It was Archie that figured it out.

All week long instead of actually changing underwear in the morning, Angel was just putting her clean pair on top of her dirty pair. At last count she had five pairs on at one time.

Needless to say the situation has been corrected. But it was a heck of a laugh to see five pairs on underwear on that little goober.

Dirty Little Secrets

I’m almost too late for my post for today, so this is quick and silly.

Confessions of things I’m certainly guilty of after almost 13 years of a Mom.

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1) I always thought Steve from Blues Clues was hot…even before he left and shaved his head.

2) I hate Mary Poppins with a deep passion. Ever since Brandon was obsessed with it and I was forced to watch it over and over for weeks on end…and came to realize she is a pompous, self-righteous, snobby bitch.

3) I actually enjoy iCarly and Victorious. They make me giggle.  Big Time Rush – not so much.

4) I used to use the TV to babysit Brandon. He would come into my room at 5AM on the weekends, I’d flip on the cartoons and go back to sleep. What can I say…the kid NEVER slept!!

5) I hate Spongebob almost as much as Mary Poppins. ‘Nuff said.

6) I haven’t taken any of my kids to a movie since Riley was an infant. I don’t trust them to sit through one. So all movies wait for video.

7) One of my favorite all-time movies is Lion King.

8) I miss the earliest days of Blues Clues before Dora and Diego and Max and Ruby tainted the waters.

9) I am actually physically disgusted by the Diego episode with the Iguana and the strawberries. You know the one…

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I almost totally messed up my NaBlo again…so you get a repeat of last year cheater post again…my embarrassing confecssions 😀

She Gets In…

[flickr id=”6367106575″ thumbnail=”medium” overlay=”true” size=”small” group=”” align=”center”]

Where no other can tread.

The one dog allowed in this house – because we know she will be leaving us.

This time she’s here for two weeks.

My dad better make darn sure he comes when the kids are at school.

Riley will be a WRECK when she leaves.

For now, she’s a welcome part of the family.

& we know that we’re loved back.

I mean – for a dog…farts are a sign of love, right?

I’m saying it is…& if the stench in this house is any indication, this dog is NUTS about us!

The Unlike of Me

[flickr id=”6202967832″ thumbnail=”small” overlay=”true” size=”small” group=”” align=”left”]I’m not liking myself much right now.

I’m attributing it to stress of the past month and of the upcoming holidays.

But I’m ugly. Inside.

Short tempered.

Nasty.

Angry.

Impatient.

I don’t like it and I want it to stop.

I’m hoping that now that I am returning to my normal routine I will get back my usual state of mind and heart. Now that I don’t have the added stress of fitting things around work that I will actually feel like I’m accomplishing something.

I don’t want to be miserable. I don’t want to be putting myself in time out like I did tonight.

The holidays are coming and I need to be happy. After all I have cookies to bake and treats to make and Christmas morning photos to take.

The Comedy and the Tragedy…

[flickr id=”6030468849″ thumbnail=”small” overlay=”true” size=”small” group=”” align=”left”]A few weeks ago I posted about the debate we were going through. Should I work? Or not?

We weighed all the options. Debated what we would gain, what we would lose. There were negatives, for sure. There were fears about me actually getting back to work – and the possibility of hospital visits happening with the kids.

We thought of everything. We were certain of that.

So when I saw the position at the library I leaped at it. I WANTED it. I took it without thinking about hours.  There was panic about being able to find childcare to cover my hours.  There’s been a lot of me missing just being home for and with my family.

In the end, though…I’ve loved the job. There are SLOW days for sure…and days so busy my mind is just spinning with everything that needs to be done.  While I’ve missed home, missed my family – I liked being out in public again. Having a reason to get dressed and put on makeup. Contributing to my family’s budget (not that I’ve seen a paycheck yet).

So yesterday as I was filling out paperwork for our all important magical insurance (that covers all things CF – especially the things that our stupid regular insurance does not – like $2500 meds) the realization hit me.

We didn’t think of everything.

I was forced into the realization that less than 2 full weeks into my job – I have to quit.

In the end my ‘extra’ income will hurt us far more than it will help us.

I spent yesterday a wreck. I had minor panic attacks all day.

My wonderful Archie when I was sobbing about how I liked the thought of contributing to the house, and that I felt good to be helping him with the “breadwinner” stress…told me that I contributed to the house by BEING here and making neat and calm and comfortable for his OCD-rattled brain after work.  He soothed my stresses about our current financial status and how this was supposed to help.

In my panic and sadness over leaving a job I love he was my rock.

So thank you, Archie.

Even if I know you only love me for regularly clean sheets and floors (over the sporadic cleaning since I started work) 😉