Why is my house a mess? There is shit everywhere! The kids have their own dedicated toy room, hell, they have a toy upstairs. Two rooms and a bathroom (yes, Bubby plays with water in the bathroom. Makes up water sets using tupperware and Playmobil, I guess better in the bathroom than on my zillion dollar wood floors.) One room is toys the other is a play house and a kitchen set. So why, since they have several hundred square feet, do their toys end up all over the house. There are toys in their room, toys in my bathroom, toys in the family room in the TV stand, toys in the hearth room (yeah, yeah, I have a big house - you'll never (fingers crossed) hear me rant (well maybe if the furnace breaks or maybe about how much it will be to replace the huge driveway) about my dream house. I love it. My heart swells when I pull into the driveway. And yes, I am shallow), toys in the art room, toys in my office and toys in the mudroom. You would be right thinking they have a lot of toys. But they are not the normal kind of toys. Bubby likes squishy little lizards and aquatic life from the dollar bin at Target. Chicken likes the Disney Polly Pocket-like princesses (cannot tell you how many I have replaced because Lunatic the crazy dog eats them like Easter jelly beans). So there is little stuff everywhere. Open a drawer and there is a Playmobil gorilla. Or Strawberry Shortcake. Or a tea set. Or the tea set in the turtle tent in my family room.
Who picks it up? Well mostly my The Saint aka my husband. I pick up the toy room every other week with the kids so The Miracle Worker aka the housekeeper can clean upstairs (which she only does every other weeks since nobody comes up here but the kids. They mind of trash the bathroom up here, so The MW takes care of that too.) I ask Bubby and Chicken to do it. They do it a bit, whine how is is hard, then when I am not looking or lording over them, they slip away and make a mess in a room far far away.
And really, the only decent organized example they have is The Saint. Me? I still have Easter stuff on the dining room table (I did get rid of the hard boiled eggs BEFORE they started to smell - yes, smart asses, I AM patting myself in the back.) My office is a dizzying array of fabric, craft supplies, stuff for my taxes and bills. Really, how would I ever be able to get entrepreneurial and make some extra dough to pay for my vacation habit (or my shoe habit or my expensive chocolate habit, or my jeans habit, or my pilates habit or my kids clothes and shoes habit. Who doesn't have clothes in this house? The Saint.)
I am not making the case for a frustrated mother overrun by her uncaring children, am I? Oh, you say they are only 5 and 2 so they can't possibly be messy just to make me even crazier than I already am? The hell you say. Chicken calls me pooh pooh head just because she know I can't stand it. And she is 2. You should see how she eggs Bubby on and on.
So, here I sit, typing a post that nobody will read, instead of putting away the laundry (3 weeks worth) or emptying the dish washer, or helping the kids clean up their shit, or, OH CRAP, I do need to send the taxes....
Monday, April 16, 2012
Friday, March 30, 2012
I wish I could give this blog a chance! And why I hate the Pet Sitter
This poor blog. I don't even know why I think I should try, when I have another blog that also gets ignored. It is just that I lay there at night with a rant on my mind, and I think "Wow, this would be a great rant for my little ranting blog." I had a whole rant on this blog post, where the husband tells his wife that it is her job to get up in the middle of the night with their sick kids. You know, 'cause he works. Thank god, I do not have a husband that thinks this way. We take turns - even when it comes to letting the dog out in the middle of the night. So, I can't rant about my husband (well, not on this matter. But should we discuss the PayPal bill?). As I read through some of the comments, there were women that agreed with the husband. Really? Am I burning my nursing bra alone? Some of my friends have husbands that don't pull their weight around the house, and I always wonder why they put up with it. Or, the husbands go out to a bar until 4 in the morning and are passed out wearing a crown during breakfast. Seriously? Come Saturday and Sunday, my husband better be on his A game to help with Frick and Frack. I spend all week with the little noise makers. Sometimes it is nice to shower without a little head peeking in and asking for help to go potty.
OK, now the Pet Sitter. We have (or had) 2 dogs, 2 cats and a turtle. So, when we went away for our spring holiday, I didn't want to board the animals. One, it was very expensive. Two, one of our dogs is 15, and I thought she would be more comfortable (and be less confusing) if she were at home. So, I asked the vet for recommendations. I called three people, one of which called me back right away. The others, not so much. One called, said she would call back when she had her schedule (never did ) and the other called about a week after I left the message. Anyway, I chose Pet Sitter, even though when I saw her she was old and, well, not in the best of shape. But, I was saving money and my girls would be home. Well, She called me the morning we were coming home and said there was bad news. One of my cats went out the night before, wouldn't come in, so when Pet Sitter came back in the morning, my cat was dead outside, by herself. Devastated, to say the least. Then we came home, opened the front door to a puddle of urine, with a chewed up dog bed in the middle. Plus the smell of urine everywhere, a chewed up couch cushion (couch is less than a month old), poop. It was horrible. Our house keeper came the next morning and let us know when she came Tuesday (we came home Thursday evening) morning at 8am, the dogs ran out, and the house was a mess of urine and poop. It took 4 scrubbings to get the smell out of our brick hall and foyer. I haven't paid her yet ($15 a visit). I haven't called her, I don't know what to do. The dogs haven't peed in the house since we've been home. Pet Sitter was supposed to come 4 times each day. House Keeper was there at 8, but Pet Sitter didn't come until 1pm. Did Pet Sitter come at 7am and the dogs were still sleeping? So, needless to say, I will either board them next time or maybe House Keeper will stay or watch them herself. I trust her with my actual children, so that would probably be a better bet. Makes me wished we never moved from our old house, because Old Neighbor was the best pet sitter. And free.
OK, now the Pet Sitter. We have (or had) 2 dogs, 2 cats and a turtle. So, when we went away for our spring holiday, I didn't want to board the animals. One, it was very expensive. Two, one of our dogs is 15, and I thought she would be more comfortable (and be less confusing) if she were at home. So, I asked the vet for recommendations. I called three people, one of which called me back right away. The others, not so much. One called, said she would call back when she had her schedule (never did ) and the other called about a week after I left the message. Anyway, I chose Pet Sitter, even though when I saw her she was old and, well, not in the best of shape. But, I was saving money and my girls would be home. Well, She called me the morning we were coming home and said there was bad news. One of my cats went out the night before, wouldn't come in, so when Pet Sitter came back in the morning, my cat was dead outside, by herself. Devastated, to say the least. Then we came home, opened the front door to a puddle of urine, with a chewed up dog bed in the middle. Plus the smell of urine everywhere, a chewed up couch cushion (couch is less than a month old), poop. It was horrible. Our house keeper came the next morning and let us know when she came Tuesday (we came home Thursday evening) morning at 8am, the dogs ran out, and the house was a mess of urine and poop. It took 4 scrubbings to get the smell out of our brick hall and foyer. I haven't paid her yet ($15 a visit). I haven't called her, I don't know what to do. The dogs haven't peed in the house since we've been home. Pet Sitter was supposed to come 4 times each day. House Keeper was there at 8, but Pet Sitter didn't come until 1pm. Did Pet Sitter come at 7am and the dogs were still sleeping? So, needless to say, I will either board them next time or maybe House Keeper will stay or watch them herself. I trust her with my actual children, so that would probably be a better bet. Makes me wished we never moved from our old house, because Old Neighbor was the best pet sitter. And free.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Some Vow? I Abandoned This Blog Like a Pregnant Cat
Which I would never do by the way. First of all, I would take said pregnant cat into my home and care for her and her brood. Also, my cat wouldn't get pregnant in the first place because we are spayer/neuterers. Can you believe people don't? There are a lot of free programs. Plus if you get an animal from the shelter (where you should, because wouldn't it be nice if there weren't the need for shelters?) it will already be fixed.
Enough soapboxing.
So what am I angry about lately? I have a cold. I hate being sick. I find it a personal attack on my person. Christmas is coming. I hate Christmas. So much work for people (read my sister's kids and well, really my kids too) who have so much stuff they don't even want anything. Well, my one niece wants an iPad and the other a car. Seriously not buying those. I am also angry because I am working on paintings for Chicken and Bubby's rooms and the Chicken painted on hers, and Bubby's too. Can you imagine? Shows me I should put my stuff away.
So, what I really wanted to talk about is my Husband's butt. And mine too. We haven't worked out for awhile. Me, since before Chicken's arrival and the Mr. since last spring. I am waiting for the Chicken to sleep through the night and he wants to be home helping out (yes, 95% of the time he is Mary Poppins, practically perfect in every way). The hard thing is we are fairly thin people. He mostly works out to keep himself heavier. (OK, let's talk about that. Really? He has to work out so that he isn't puny. Most people (me included, I just watch what I eat) gain without working out. It isn't fair. He also has a photographic memory and is right 90% of the time. And always dressed well.) Anyway, his butt. It still looks pretty good, but I worry if he doesn't work out soon, he'll be on his way to "old man flat butt". Now, I would never tell him his butt is getting flat. That would be cruel right? IF he asked what would I say? I think I would say he looks good.
That brings me to my real point. Is the Mr. glossy over my shortcomings? I am very concerned that my butt is saggy. OK, OK, my boobs are too, but that is why they have bras. No bras for butts. I need some squats right? Or at least some cardio. So, when I say something, he always says I look good. Hmmmm..... IS he being glossy? OI am hard on myself. Since turning 40 and being a mom to one that doesn't sleep, I look, well, closer to my actual age than I did before the Chicken. So, I am concerned that I actually do look as bad as I think and my husband is just trying to make me feel less ugly.
Do I fess up in hopes that it brings us closer? Or do I keep my mouth shut and re-join the gym?
Enough soapboxing.
So what am I angry about lately? I have a cold. I hate being sick. I find it a personal attack on my person. Christmas is coming. I hate Christmas. So much work for people (read my sister's kids and well, really my kids too) who have so much stuff they don't even want anything. Well, my one niece wants an iPad and the other a car. Seriously not buying those. I am also angry because I am working on paintings for Chicken and Bubby's rooms and the Chicken painted on hers, and Bubby's too. Can you imagine? Shows me I should put my stuff away.
So, what I really wanted to talk about is my Husband's butt. And mine too. We haven't worked out for awhile. Me, since before Chicken's arrival and the Mr. since last spring. I am waiting for the Chicken to sleep through the night and he wants to be home helping out (yes, 95% of the time he is Mary Poppins, practically perfect in every way). The hard thing is we are fairly thin people. He mostly works out to keep himself heavier. (OK, let's talk about that. Really? He has to work out so that he isn't puny. Most people (me included, I just watch what I eat) gain without working out. It isn't fair. He also has a photographic memory and is right 90% of the time. And always dressed well.) Anyway, his butt. It still looks pretty good, but I worry if he doesn't work out soon, he'll be on his way to "old man flat butt". Now, I would never tell him his butt is getting flat. That would be cruel right? IF he asked what would I say? I think I would say he looks good.
That brings me to my real point. Is the Mr. glossy over my shortcomings? I am very concerned that my butt is saggy. OK, OK, my boobs are too, but that is why they have bras. No bras for butts. I need some squats right? Or at least some cardio. So, when I say something, he always says I look good. Hmmmm..... IS he being glossy? OI am hard on myself. Since turning 40 and being a mom to one that doesn't sleep, I look, well, closer to my actual age than I did before the Chicken. So, I am concerned that I actually do look as bad as I think and my husband is just trying to make me feel less ugly.
Do I fess up in hopes that it brings us closer? Or do I keep my mouth shut and re-join the gym?
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
How angry must I be, if I haven't posted since September?
I am plenty angry, I have just been over run by death, children, Christmas, spring holiday, a cold and so on and so on. I have had plenty angry moments, I just haven't dedicated any time to this blog. Though I think about it frequently. I have another blog I maintain. One that I will keep separate from this one. Rantings of an Angry Mommy is my own private place to air all my dirty little thoughts (that my family and friends shouldn't read). You know, like, are my children too old to abandon at the fire station, or really, did my father in law really pay off the lien on his new wife's house?
Of course, now that I have stolen a moment away (OK, my kids are currently pouring water all over the kitchen while I ignore them) I cannot think of one specific thing about which I want to rant. Weird huh? Last night, while Chicken wasn't falling asleep (by the way, it is now an hour later than when I started this post - where does the time go? Chicken need to go potty, Bubby slipped in the watery mess and needed to be consoled, Chicken needed milky (yes, I still nurse) I had to clean up the watery mess, find Chicken dry clothes, empty the washer to wash all the wet towels) I thought of all the clever things I could blog. Now my mind is dry! Unlike my kitchen floor.
I vow not to be a stranger to what could be a fabulous outlet for my frustration with my life (which isn't bad - something I always remind myself when I am feeling cursed. AHA! I need to blog about when Bubby broke a glass in the bathroom while at the same time Chicken pooped in the tub and I was standing in just the bottoms of my new bikini. A very good story for another post.
Of course, now that I have stolen a moment away (OK, my kids are currently pouring water all over the kitchen while I ignore them) I cannot think of one specific thing about which I want to rant. Weird huh? Last night, while Chicken wasn't falling asleep (by the way, it is now an hour later than when I started this post - where does the time go? Chicken need to go potty, Bubby slipped in the watery mess and needed to be consoled, Chicken needed milky (yes, I still nurse) I had to clean up the watery mess, find Chicken dry clothes, empty the washer to wash all the wet towels) I thought of all the clever things I could blog. Now my mind is dry! Unlike my kitchen floor.
I vow not to be a stranger to what could be a fabulous outlet for my frustration with my life (which isn't bad - something I always remind myself when I am feeling cursed. AHA! I need to blog about when Bubby broke a glass in the bathroom while at the same time Chicken pooped in the tub and I was standing in just the bottoms of my new bikini. A very good story for another post.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
My First Rant: Someone Used My Kid's Name for Their Kid
So, a previous friend, who I will call Musan, has adopted another baby. They weren't going to adopt again, but hey, I was only having one too (hence the angry Mommy). But, they seemed only to adopt again after seeing me and my small brood (call me a narcissist, go on, your right). And do you know what they named their new child? Yes, the same name as my little new one Chicken. Granted, mine is a girl, theirs is a boy. But come on! I hope it is a family name!
Why isn't she my friend anymore you ask? Well, I think it has to do with my kid was bit more advanced than hers, and maybe I talked up my kid a bit too much. But the catalyst was Bubby's birthday party. I wasn't quick getting back to her about what to get for a present (mostly because I was putting on a party and my kid really didn't want anything). So, they needed to get it the day of the party. Well, Musan had a sick cat at the time and had to hurry up and give the kitty medicine and it died. Seriously, I am an animal lover and it breaks my heart. However, they buried the cat, hurried bought a present and came late to the party. Never saying a word about what had happened, just acting strangely. Well, stranger than normal. (She also followed her kid A around not letting her touch anything. Actually, I could go on and on about how weird this woman is. They adopted a bi-racial child with gorgeous hair. I mean stunning, and you couldn't mentioned it or Musan would get uptight. She didn't want A to be identified by her hair. Hell, if my kid had cool hair, identify away! I could go on and on but I won't digress. OK, one more thing. I thing her child was like a banner she waved about how "not racist" and democratic Musan is. Instead of it being like no big deal (because is it really? Color shouldn't matter, just that a child has a good family) A's ethnicity was always in the background - lurking.). Then, 4 days later, I get an email telling me about how the cat died and pointed saying how it was because they had to hurry to administer the IV so they could buy Bubby's present. Needless to say, we didn't talk much after that.
She noticed I was pregnant last fall, and then saw all of us 3 days in a row in July. Then today I hear from someone about the rushed adoption and they are calling the baby Chicken. ARG!!!!!!!
Why isn't she my friend anymore you ask? Well, I think it has to do with my kid was bit more advanced than hers, and maybe I talked up my kid a bit too much. But the catalyst was Bubby's birthday party. I wasn't quick getting back to her about what to get for a present (mostly because I was putting on a party and my kid really didn't want anything). So, they needed to get it the day of the party. Well, Musan had a sick cat at the time and had to hurry up and give the kitty medicine and it died. Seriously, I am an animal lover and it breaks my heart. However, they buried the cat, hurried bought a present and came late to the party. Never saying a word about what had happened, just acting strangely. Well, stranger than normal. (She also followed her kid A around not letting her touch anything. Actually, I could go on and on about how weird this woman is. They adopted a bi-racial child with gorgeous hair. I mean stunning, and you couldn't mentioned it or Musan would get uptight. She didn't want A to be identified by her hair. Hell, if my kid had cool hair, identify away! I could go on and on but I won't digress. OK, one more thing. I thing her child was like a banner she waved about how "not racist" and democratic Musan is. Instead of it being like no big deal (because is it really? Color shouldn't matter, just that a child has a good family) A's ethnicity was always in the background - lurking.). Then, 4 days later, I get an email telling me about how the cat died and pointed saying how it was because they had to hurry to administer the IV so they could buy Bubby's present. Needless to say, we didn't talk much after that.
She noticed I was pregnant last fall, and then saw all of us 3 days in a row in July. Then today I hear from someone about the rushed adoption and they are calling the baby Chicken. ARG!!!!!!!
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