Thursday, October 27, 2011

4:05am... And here I am... Awake...

with heartburn. I hate heartburn. This is the third time this week that I have awakened to nastiness in my esophagus. And the second night in a row that the beast had night terrors. 2:15 like clockwork, he woke up screaming. Thankfully, he went back to bed immediately, but it definitely scared the be-jeezus out of me.

The worst part is, I have no one to blame but myself.

I scare my child. I don't mean that I yell at him until he quivers and trembles, or beat him senseless, or anything like that. Essentially, I lie to him and.... exaggerate situations so that he listens. I see nothing wrong with this. I mentioned before his fear of the Easter Bunny. It started out harmless enough. We went to the mall to get a picture of him with the giant bunny. He was excited. Until it was our turn. The beast didn't realize that the bunny was alive. When the Easter Bunny reached out his arms to hold the beast on his lap, chaos ensued. The situation ended when my just-turned-three son picked up a pink, glittery decorative egg and chucked it at the Easter Bunny with all his might and then ran screaming from the little fake cottage area. Needless to say, we didn't get the picture.

Anyway, my mom felt really bad for him... Her poor poopy-head and all. ((She's called him that since birth... Ironically, it has nothing to do with actual poo.)) I saw a golden opportunity. One day the beast was being particularly beastly. And before I knew it, I told him the Easter Bunny was upstairs hiding under mommy's bed waiting to come get him if he didn't start listening. And it worked. The kid hid under a blanket on the couch watching his shows quietly. He got up only to pee. Ever since that day, the Easter Bunny has been the boogy man of our house. The story has gotten more elaborate. Eventually he got so scared that we had to promise him that the police had locked up the Easter Bunny in jail. Now we tell him that the police will let him out if he's bad. So we've instilled a healthy dose of fear of police to our 3 year old. Great.

But that isn't why my child has had night terrors the last two nights.

Yesterday, we made a quick run to Wal-Mart. As in the usual Wal-Mart manner, four of their 30 lanes were open, and the lines were wrapped back into the clothing section. A very nice employee glanced in my cart, saw my 7 items and told me to go check out in the jewelry dept. My kind of service. I hauled ass over there, hoping no one overheard her tell me we could check out there and inadvertently beat me to the oasis that would allow me to get out of there quickly. And damned if someone didn't beat me there. So while we stood waiting our turn, the beast was checking out the Halloween section that was just across the aisle. Up on top of the shelves was this giant yard inflatable of a spooky house with trees and ghost all around. Here's how the conversation went down.

Beast: Look, Mommy, a Halloween house!
Me: Yeah! And look at all the scary ghosts!
Beast: Those ghosts aren't scary.
Me: Those ghosts work here.
Beast: Nuh-uh.
Me: Yup. When kids are bad, they fly down from the tree and eat their faces off. Then they chop off the bad children's feet and send them to jail for the Easter Bunny to eat them.
Beast: Oh no.
Me: Yup... On Halloween, you'll see the kids who were bad in the store. They have to wear masks cuz the ghosts ate their faces off.
Beast: I'm going to be a pirate for Halloween. ((at this point his eyes will not leave the display))
Me: Yup... So you better be good because we didn't get you a mask. And if you don't have a face, you can't go trick or treating.
Beast: Mommy, can we go home?

The guy in front of me was laughing so hard he had tears, and he gave the cashier the wrong amount of money. The cashier stared at me in stunned belief. The look on her face told me everything. While she was amused at the situation, she clearly did not agree with my parenting style. Not that I cared. It worked. He was good in the store. What's a little fear when you can get through a Wal-Mart trip unscathed?

And now he has night terrors and I have heartburn.

Thank you, Karma... You've been very helpful this week. Hopefully we get along better next week.

Monday, October 24, 2011

Just Another Day In Paradise!

Today started out like any other day... I stumbled out of bed some where around 10 am... ((The beast woke up last night and stayed up till roughly 2 ish... He slept in this morning, thank GOD!)) I made coffee... I ate toast... I ate Fruity Pebbles... I CityVilled... I laid on the couch and watched the View. Things were good.

Then I started watching the Chew. God I love that show. While thinking about the inevitable commissary run in my future, I decided to check my bank account to make sure my car insurance had gone through. I have been paying my bills online for a long time, and yet every time one is due to come out, I still check. You'd think I'd get over it.

Thank God I haven't.

Much to my surprise, our account balance was scary low. Like, so low we would be royally FU--..... Screwed.... So I begin scanning the account details thinking that my husband was going to be getting a serious ass-kicking... And lo and behold, it's not my husband's fault. ((Much to his relief, let me add.)) Our account was hacked, and some idiot charged $150 to a Video Game and Arcade store in Seattle, Washington. We live in NC... Doesn't get much farther away than that. So after calling the bank and straightening it all out, the end result is full refund in 3-5 business days, new debit card for me in 7-10 business days, and no access to funds until then. Because USAA does not have branches here. And my husband is gone training until the end of the week. Fudgin' A.

So to make myself feel better, I decided to sit down and get some sewing projects taken care of. Mainly, the crib bumper, which is all set and pinned and just needs to be sewn to be finished. But the bumper irritated me. And my child was irritating me. So after banning the beast to his room ((something he hates, which I will never understand since it is filled with freakin' toys)) I sat down and decided to sew B's best friend a shirt out of some jersey knit fabric I scored in the clearance bin at Hobby Lobby a few weeks back. It's super pink and super girly. I found the tutorial here at the Lil Blue Boo blog and have been wanting to try it out for awhile. Tonight was my chance. Super easy, super fast, and best of all, I got to put my ornery son in a pretty pink shirt as my model. He deserved it. He was a real jerk today. And then I took pictures of it. And now, I'm going to put them on the internet, and they will be here FOREVER, so he will always be embarrassed by them. Mother of the year right here!


He looks so upset at being put in girl's clothing, doesn't he? *Sigh* Don't mind my messy house in the background... It's the least of my worries today.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

SAHM's have it rough too, ya know...

So, maybe I'm being petty. And maybe some people think I just 'don't understand'. But being a stay at home mom isn't easy. I'm so freakin', flippin' tired of having people tell me that I just wouldn't understand the demands of the working mother. Um, hello? It's not all bon bons and Days of our Lives around here! You try waking up and coming downstairs to start the coffee pot and finding your 3 year old asleep on the kitchen floor surrounded by empty go-gurt wrappers. Sure it's cute while he's still asleep, but clearly, in the long run, this is not a good thing. When was the last time any of you working moms had to clean shaving cream off a TV, a closet door, a bed and the carpet because your child and his friend decided to play in the bathroom while you were having a pregnancy induced hot flash that forced you outside into the rain to quickly cool off before returning to keep watch over the shenanigans going on in the house? I did it roughly six hours ago. ((With the help of another awesome SAHM! Far-away-high-five, Shayna!))
You can whine to me about your deadlines, and your office politics and about how the last thing you need when you get home is to clean house and cook dinner. It doesn't make your day harder than mine. In fact, if I had the luxury of spending nine hours a day with adults, hearing adult conversation and looking at spreadsheets instead of listening to those damn Fresh Beat Band kids sing about their great day and cleaning up after a husband who's primary job is to get dirty and 3 year old whose finger lives in his nose, I wouldn't be complaining! Here's the thing. I have worked and taken care of a house at the same time. It is NOTHING compared to spending days on end in a house with a little person whose conversational skills stop short at, "I can't", "I don't want it," and "No." Oh and lets not leave out the ever popular, "Mommy there's a wheel up my nose." Bet you don't have that going on in your office meetings do you? When was the last time you had to turn to the guy at the table next to you and use tweezers to pull something out of his nose? That's what I thought.

Don't get me wrong. I love my son and the time I get to spend with him. I wouldn't have it any other way. I get to be a part of all the good things too. But the next time someone tells me I don't have a "real" job, I just may scream. And then I will tell them that they are right. I don't have a real job. Because if this was a real job, I'd get paid. I'd get weekends off. I'd get to clock out at 5pm. I'd get to call in sick every now and then. And I'd get vacation time. I'd probably know what day it is, and I don't mean the date. I'd probably shower with more regularity. (You can judge all you want, but since leaving the beast alone, even for the 15 min a shower would take isn't an option, that has to happen at night, and I'm to damn tired from NOT working all day.) My sex life would certainly be better because I wouldn't be so tired from RUNNING around a house all day. Literally running. When was the last time you office gals did that? That's what I thought.

In short, I don't feel bad for you. And I don't expect you to feel bad for me. We have all made our choices, or were forced to choose. I'm blessed enough to be able to stay home with the beast. Lord knows he'd probably get kicked out of day cares from here to Timbuktu if I wasn't. But don't diminish and demean what I do. Not everyone can do it, or do it well. It takes a lot of juggling. The reality of it is, I've known women who could run offices daily and not be able to run their house with the same smooth efficiency. Being a SAHM isn't for the faint of heart. It is work. Hard work. As is going into an office every day. Like I said, I've done both. I just knew what day of the week it was, and my legs were usually shaved when I went to the office.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Holy Cow, it's not 1 am!

Who knew you could blog at the very normal hour of noon?? Not this girl! But apparently, it works.

Then again, the beast is hanging on my arm, trying to crawl in my lap and won't shut up... I remember now why blogging at 1 am is the perfect time in this house. Added to that, I have like maybe 10 minutes before my husband walks in the door, complaining of hunger and shooting down all my ideas for lunch.... Starting this blog right now really doesn't seem like the smartest thing I have ever done. Oh well.

On another note, I just found out JoAnn's is having a moonlit madness sale going on this week, and it's starting today... And I was planning on going today. Hot Diggity Damn, it's going to be a good retail day for me!!! Assuming I can get my stupid cell phone fixed also. My cell phone is quite possibly the crappiest Android ever made. I'm so frustrated with it, in fact, that I am going to Sprint to DOWN-grade my phone back to something basic. I have come to realize that when you cram an ass ton of technology into something so tiny and basic, there's no way it can function properly. That, and Sprint has a phone that says who's messaging you. So when you get a new text it says: "New Message from Drama Queen" or whatever you program the phone number in as. This is my kind of phone. I can be happy all day with a phone where I can program people's names in as however I think of them. And it's super basic. Texting and phone calls. That's all I need. I'm a SAHM for crying out loud. If I need to check my Facebook, I can get up and go to the computer. Unless the View is on. I won't get up then. Or the Chew. Or Biggest Loser. Okay, so that list could really go on, and pretty much embarrass me forever when all my trashy, reality, guilty pleasures come to light. ((I know I can't be the only one who gets excited when Real Housewives of Orange County comes on... If I was, the show would be over!))

Because there really is no purpose to this post... Or any of my posts really... Except to escape the insanity of my home for a few short moments, I'll leave you with this picture of the beast, so you know just what I mean when I call him, the beast.
He's getting ready to throw himself down a slide on his best friend's playground... There's an evil look to his eyes, as if he's waiting for a target to get in place...
And here he is when he's cute and sweet... And extremely dirty... As all boys should be!

Friday, October 14, 2011

Must. Go. To. Bed.

At 1:43am, when you get an intense craving for marshmallows, and there are none in the house, what do you do? Turn to the Lucky Charms. Green Poop here I come... Hopefully anyway.

Today was a ball... I took the beast to a play date, which is code for "go annoy your friend, so us mommies can sit in peace for five freakin' minutes." Our play date was 9 1/2 hours... I brought PJ's with me, so I choose to believe that makes me a good mom. And he was asleep before we got home.... at 10:45pm.

Some people pick their friends based on the things they have in common. And while that is probably a great jumping off point, I feel it is better to be around people who parent the same way you do, and find the common ground later. Nothing soothes my heart more when I don't have to roll my nearly 7 month pregnant ass out of a chair to yell at children for something, because I know my friends will have it taken care of. Chances are, if you parent the same, you have a TON in common. I need to surround myself with people who won't bat an eye when I threaten to rip my child's leg off and beat him with it. Clearly, that could never happen! I don't have that kind of arm strength. But my 3 year old doesn't know that. And that, my friends, is productive parenting. That is what gets shit done. Because let me just tell you, the beast is not phased by the word 'spanking'. Some toddlers cringe in terror, but the beast will laugh if you even try. Cue the body parts being ripped off. That's effective. And when that starts to fail, I'll tell him that the police let the Easter Bunny out of jail (where he has taken up residence since Easter 2011 and the unfortunate Egg Incident at the mall) and if he makes a lot of noise the big bad bunny will find him. That should at least get me through until next September when he goes to full day Pre-K... Thank you, NC for providing my child with a place to go so I can take a nap.... Oh wait. There will be another one here. Oh crap.

On that depressing note, my ramblings are over and I'm waddling my shamrock booty to bed. Only 2 minutes past my self-imposed bed time. Oh wait, 3. Crap.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Life on an Army post....

...means that sleep is never guaranteed. Especially, when soldiers are out in the field, setting off bombs and shooting M4's WAY beyond when they should be. In my opinion anyway.

So here it is, 1am... And I'm awake. Does that surprise you? I didn't think so. I haven't gotten near as much accomplished around here as I would have liked to. I HAVE done TONS of daydreaming and making lists of things I want to do... But the actual doing of these things has not happened. I think, about the only thing I have accomplished this week was making the crib skirt for the nursery. I didn't even take pictures of it. Oh well. I plan on making the crib bumper this weekend, so when I take pictures of that, you can see the crib skirt as well.

But the daydreams I have had, and the inspiration I have found from other blogs has been amazing. My whole house is going to be revamped before long... At least, that's the goal. I set my goals high because I am totally okay with failing.

That's not entirely true. I hate failing. But I like to have 27 things on my plate all at once. Keeps me going. After I finish the nursery, I plan on tackling the Beast's room. Living in on-post housing definitely poses a challenge. Anytime you leave to go somewhere else, you have to return the house to the way it was when you got it. Which, fine, I get it... Technically we are renting. Makes sense.

But DAMN it really limits the things I can do. Not for any reason other than, my husband will kill me if he has to put 16 layers of primer on a wall to cover up the paint color I HAD to have. Because lets face it. I'm not going to have any part in the primer-ing or puttying or anything else that has to be done before a PCS. Sure, I have no problem getting in there and getting my hands dirty when it's to make something look pretty. But I want no part in having to make it look ugly.

Anyway... back to the Beast. I got enough of the gray paint we used in the nursery to paint his room the same color, so eventually, it will get on the walls. I plan on doing his room in a Navy, Red and White theme. I know what your all thinking. How very patriotic of you, wife of a soldier. But really it has more to do with me loving the color scheme. And aside from the colors, there really probably won't be anything patriotic about it. Not that there's anything wrong with Patriotic themes... I'm just surrounded by all things America everyday... Patriotism comes in the form of dirty ACU's and constant dirt/sand from desert boots on my floors around here.

And here's the kicker. My husband is going to be so happy when finds out what I'm going to let him do. I very very rarely let my husband build stuff. Refinish, sure. Not build from scratch. Why, you may ask? The truth is, I don't completely trust him. I never tell him that, but he knows. It's the elephant in the room. But I'm going to let him build the Beast's bed. (OMG just typing that gave me indigestion!)) I have been scouring CraigsList and yard sales and thrift stores, and I just can find what I want for a price I'd be willing to spend. And yes, I know that building the bed can be pricey, but I'm willing to pay a little extra for something that I hope  know will be worth it in the long run. Plus, it's just going to be a platform bed, so it really can't be all that hard... And of course, I'll supervise.

All the other furniture for his room we should be able to find used. Can you believe the child doesn't have a dresser? Again, since we are in military housing, we battle with the constant problem of room size. Things have to be multi-purpose here so they don't take up a bunch of space. Since I'll be adding a dresser, I'm going to need to get rid of the bookshelf he has. Conveniently, his bookshelf is white and will match the nursery perfectly. Also, I will be able to get rid of his TV cart, as I'll be able to put the TV on the dresser.... I'll pause a moment so everyone can judge me. It's like, ever since SuperNanny said it was bad, no kid has a TV anymore! In my defense, he has it so I can get an extra 30 minutes of sleep in the morning. He wakes up, turns it on, and there's Nick Jr. OK so that shames me further, I know. But I'm not out to win any parenting awards so it's all good.

I can't wait to tackle the living areas of the house, but I feel like I should get my kids together first. Of course, the last room to be done will be the master. Not only because it's not much of a priority for me, but also because it's the one room in the house, that I just don't have a plan for yet.

One of these nights, while I'm awake listening to the sounds of fake battle, it will come to me. But it won't be tonight. Tonight is for Tums and a Nora Roberts novel... I'm just full of guilty pleasures.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

So Much For Super Cheap...

Remember how I said I found a crib set at Wal-Mart that was super cheap?? Stupid Wal-Mart raised the price on it by $15. Now is that a lot of money? No. But, I just finished sewing my very first rag quilt, (using a tutorial here) and it turned out exceptionally well. So much so that my quilting superstar grandma raved over it, and told me not to stop sewing because I have a gift. (She really does love me! :P)
Don't get me wrong. I don't think I'm a superstar by any means. But it did give me the confidence to tackle the crib set myself. I ordered the bumper pad filler things from the Wal-Mart website for $20 and have several JoAnn's coupons put aside for a big fabric purchase this weekend. The rag quilt I made is going to be the comforter for the crib, so that's already done. And I used fabric scraps left over from that to make a mobile this weekend. I found a tutorial for fabric pinwheels here, and fashioned them into a mobile by buying a large embroidery ring, and some ribbon and hot glue. And let me just explain to you just how much of a crafty virgin I am. I had to read the directions on the hot glue gun package. Not because I needed to refresh my memory but because I have NEVER used a hot glue gun before. Ever. Using my $4 hot glue gun scared me more than using my sewing machine. But I got over it, and the results ended up fantastic! I finished off my weekend of crafting by taking a semi-broken Ikea end table we used to have in our living room, and spray painting it read. And ok, if I'm being totally honest, my husband fixed it up and spray painted it. I really just had the idea while eating a bologna sandwich and he had it finished up before I could rinse my dish... Ok well maybe not that fast, but he got on it because his very large-and-in-charge pregnant wife scares him.
So the color theme of the nursery is black, white and red, with gray on the walls. Another project my husband tackled this weekend. And he really can't complain, because the room is the size of a closet and the whole thing took him MAYBE 2 hours, including trim and what not. We are still working on the dresser. That thing is becoming the elephant in the room. We don't want to look at it, we don't want to talk about it, we just want it done. I just wish little fairies would come in and take care of it for us while we were sleeping or something. Or that my husband would just do it. That would be acceptable too.
Here's the picture of my rag quilt:
And my fabric pinwheel mobile:
And my Red table:

More to come as it gets done!