I just wanted to take a break from what can only be described as “The Christmas Joy” (Can you see my eyes rolling?! Because when I said that, I ROLLED MY EYES.) up in this house to wish you all a Merry Christmas.
I hope that you’re family listens to you when you ask them to “clean up their mess” and that when you tell them “not right now” they just say “yes ma’am/sir and they go sit down and wait patiently with a smile on their face instead of going “OHMYGOD Why can’t we do it right now? Please now not later OMG NOW!!?” and that they don’t throw an effing tantrum when you ask them (politely, even!) to put a bow on their head so you can take a preeeeety picture of them because bows on heads is FUNNY!
I also hope that your period comes when it is supposed to and that you’re not 3 weeks late and all bloated and feeling like crying for no reason at all except that YOU LOOK 8 MONTHS PREGNANT AND HAVE HORRIFIC GAS.
Ah, The Christmas Joy.
Can’t you just feel it in your soul?
But seriously, Merry Christmas. I love you (well, I love all of you, except for like, two of you.) Your presence in my life (even if it is “on the internet”) during this extremely difficult, challenging, life changing year of my life has meant more to me than I can express without sounding like some kind of sappy asshole. Just know that I hold your encouraging and often time hilarious words close to my heart.
(See!? SAPPY ASSHOLE!)
It never fails.
Every year, just before Christmas, one (or, like last year, all three!) of my children gets sick.
I thought that maybe I’d get lucky this year because (knock on wood) not one person is sneezing or wheezing or coughing. I was hopeful and even grateful that with just one week left, everyone seemed healthy.
Then, on Tuesday, I got The Call from day care.
“Hi, your daughter just threw up. Can you please come pick her up?”
It’s been non stop Puke and Runs ever since.
Taking care of a sick toddler isn’t very much fun; especially when puke is involved. However, I can’t say that I mind how tightly my daughter has been clinging to me. (Well, except for when I was working and she refused to leave the comfort of my “fluffy” lap and I had to try to work with one hand while I held her close to me with the other. THAT was a leeeeettle annoying.) She’s Little Miss Independent now and while she still has plenty of hugs and kisses for Mommy, she’s usually too busy doing very important things to snuggle with me on the couch for more than a minute at a time. So, while I’m sad that she’s not feeling well, I’m happy to hold her close to me all day long until she gets better.
I’ll take The Cuddles anyway I can get them.
When I bought my new camera, I had visions of taking The Perfect Picture of my children for Christmas cards this year.
Obviously I didn’t take into consideration the fact that I would need to know about things like “aperture” and “ISO” and hey! A tripod would be really fucking nice because did you know that if you move the camera even just a little bit EVERYTHING COMES OUT BLURRY?
I took over 50 shots. The kids were “over it” by the 5th shot, which meant there was much whining and words like “ALL YOU EVER CARE ABOUT IS TAKING PICTURES!” shouted in anger. I finally said “eff it!” and let them get up so they wouldn’t like, DIE or something from the pain of having to just sit there and smile thinking that maybe, possibly I could find one decent shot to have printed out so that I could mail out pictures tomorrow.
Out of 50 shots, not ONE came out right. They were all too dark or too blurry. I feel like crying and I know that is stupid, but I don’t have time to try it all over again tomorrow and damn it! I wanted some pretty pictures of children this Christmas.
I went ahead and picked out the best of the bunch (but again, they’re all horrible.) and I was wondering if you would be so kind as to do me a tiny, little favor and tell me, if you HAD to choose one, which one would you choose? I know that I have a lot of nerve asking you for a favor with the way that I’ve been neglecting you, and I’m really sorry about that. I blame my thyroid. It’s dying and it’s taking my ability to think straight with it. Can you forgive me? And then, can you please look at my pictures and tell me which one you think sucks the least?
I would appreciate it more than you know.
(This one would be great if Gabby’s face wasn’t blurry. AHHHHHH!)
(Wouldn’t suck too much had I not cut Ethan’s entire body out of the picture. “Merry Christmas from Ethan’s head!”)
First of all, I wanted to say thank you all for the comments and emails of concern for my daughter. They meant a great deal to us.
Things are looking better for Gabby now that she’s being treated for asthma. On Sunday, we had to take her to urgent care because she was having difficulty breathing again. Her oxygen saturation was at 94, so they gave her a breathing treatment.
The doctor who saw her in urgent care told us that her lungs were cleared up and that now the problem is asthma.
Gabby had RSV when she was 4 months old and our pediatrician told us that asthma could be a problem for Gabby down the road. The doctor that was saw on Sunday told us that 30% of babies who have RSV do go on to have asthma. Doctor said there’s still a chance she will outgrow it and we’re hoping that she does.
Asthma scares the shit out of me, people. Watching your child struggle to breathe is pretty fucking scary. I had a long conversation with the doctor and I do understand that it can be managed with proper medication. I need to educate myself on the disease so that I’m not so terrified of it.
Currently, they have her on a 5 day treatment of oral steriods (Predisolone.) She’s also taking albuterol and Qvar (she’ll be on that until the end of February.)
In the past 3 and a half weeks, we’ve spent over $300 on copays and prescriptions (our co-pays for both are only $10, I can not tell you how grateful I am for our health insurance. SO FUCKING GRATEFUL.) I’ve been to the doctors office more times than I can count (the boys have been sick too) and I’ve stood for hours in long ass lines with germy, sick people who do not think they need to cover their disgusting mouths when they cough. I’ve not slept in my bed for a week, but on the couch, with a sickly little girl sprawled across my chest. I’ve administered more medication than I think I’ve taken in my entire life.
But I’ll tell you what I have NOT done.
I have not bought a single Christmas present. I have not bought Christmas cards, nor have I taken holiday pictures of my children, I have not baked, decorated or acknowledged that Christmas is NEXT MONDAY in any way, shape or form.
PigHunter did take the boys on Friday to get a tree. I had swore that I would never let him go shopping for a tree without me ever again, but I had to stay home with Gabby. He let the boys pick the tree out and I must say, it is probably the most perfect tree we’ve ever had, which is hilarious because this is the first year that no one but us will actually see the tree. I let the boys decorate it however they wanted to. I did not have the energy to care about little things like “properly spaced ornaments”.
I always wait til the last minute to do my shopping and such, but I didn’t count on the three (THREE!) children of mine being sick and me being unable to get out of this house except for doctors appointments.
I thought about going shopping today, because today is the first day that Gabby has not cried all morning long and the first day that she’s been breathing normally, but, I’m now afraid to take my daughter out amongst the general public until she’s had her flu shot because the doctor made it very clear to me that she MUST GET HER FLU SHOT AS SOON AS SHE’S FEELING BETTER. Apparently, it would be “very bad” for her to get the flu right now.
I suppose I’ll wait til Tony comes home from work and brave the crowds and cold and start (I’m just starting. STARTING!) my Christmas shopping tonight.
I’m currently baking apple streudel for Ethan’s class. He informed me at 9 last night that “oops, I forgot to tell you have to bake something for my class and it has to be something from Germany.”
I’m not sure that apple streudel is from Germany, nor do I know if I’m spelling “streudel” correctly, but I do know that my grandmother makes it and she is from Germany and you know what? I’m worn THE HELL OUT, so that’s good enough for me.
I had such an interesting day yesterday, one that included my daughter, “gettin’ jiggy with Jesus” during my dad’s Easter service.
(No. Really. I’m serious.)
(And the best part wasn’t even that there were old-ish ladies Dosy Doe-ing in the isles, nor the men jumping up and down and doing what looked curiously like the “Funky Chicken”, nor the fact that my daughter “bounced” with them. No! The greatest part was that it all went down to Jewish music.
My dad actually said these words. “Feel free to get up onstage or to dance in the aisles, but be careful not to knock down the small children.”
Ha! Ha! Ha! They were gettin’ ceraazy, Church Style.
My dad’s church is very much what one would call “Spirit Filled.” Let’s just put it this way. If his church were Gay, people would call it “Flamboyant.”
But, for the record, his church is so not Gay.
The Singing With The Background Tape went well. I did mess up once, (forgot the words) but, seriously, I didn’t care. I did it for my dad and he was so very happy. So was my mother. When I was finished singing, I saw that she had tears in her eyes. My mom rarely shows her emotions, so that was nice to see.
But not as nice as seeing my DAD DANCING TO JEWISH MUSIC.
The day also was filled with Panic attacks (over having nothing to wear after having discovered my shirt was COMPLETELY SEE THROUGH and deciding I didn’t want people looking at my stretched out belly button all day long.), Rejoicing (over finding my camera in the pile of laundry that Tony had thrown from our bed into the clothes basket) and of Tantrums (over Ethan being pissed off that I was taking pictures because he’s “Sick of the stupid camera” and “OUCH OUCH OUCH, THE SUN IS IN MY EYES! AND IT HURTS! WAAAAHHHHH”)
You probably think I’m exaggerating, but, I have photographic evidence, people.
Can you see the look of intense, horrific pain from having to look towards the sun?
Surely, you see it now.
It was at that point that I Officially Lost My Shit. I grabbed him by the arm in the most loving, caring way and in doing so, FREED him from THE PURE HELL of having to pose for a few Easter pictures with his brother and sister.
“OMG! Go away! I don’t want you in the pictures if you’re going to act this way. GO! NOW! LEAVE!”
The kid had THE NERVE to get pissed at me for removing him from the photo! How dare I even THINK about excluding him from the Easter pictures.
Even though he was whining the entire time. Even though he repeatedly told me how much he hated me taking pictures. Even though he was acting like THE SUN WAS PHYSICALLY HURTING HIM.
He went all DramaQueen and started crying, which, AWESOME! More crying! Only, this time it’s from his “feelings being hurt”, as opposed to flaming, hot, brutal sun burning his eyeballs!
God. My kids are SO exactly, totally like me dramatic.
The greatest part of the day? Had to be The Food. (And that’s saying A LOT because, The Dancing was pretty darn great.)
Carne asada, ham, chicken, spanish rice, baked beans, refried beans, potato salad, salad, spaghetti bake, tortillas, rolls, candied carrots, taramisu, jello, cookies, chocolate…
Do I need to tell you that I overindulged? Or that I was sick as a dog last night? Or that ha ha! I skipped Weight Watchers today? Or that, I am afraid to light a match today because, whoa, The Gas.
Because I did. I was. I did. And, seriously, make it stop.
So, um, how was YOUR Easter?
Because of my inability to make the easiest desicions, there is a pile of shopping bags sprawled across my bed filled with three different “Easter outfits” for my daughter.
Dresses. Skirts. Sweaters. Hats. Shoes. Purses. Gloves.
Tony just about crapped himself when he saw me walk in from my shopping trip to get “A” dress for her. “Chill. I put them on credit and plan on taking everything back after I decide which one I like best.” He still wasn’t happy, but once he saw all of the beautiful little girl clothing inside, his heart melted a little.
I called my sister and asked if she’d decide if I sent her pictures of Gabby in each outfit. Unfortunetely, my camera seems to be “missing” at the moment. (I’m trying not to panic, but how does a camera just “disappear” off of my bed? I suspect The Starting Over Gnomes are involved, because this makes no sense! It was on my bed last night!)
Looks like I’m going to have to actually make this decision on my own because my husband is no help AT ALL on this matter.
I put on one outfit on her, he’s all “Ohhhh, I love that one!”
I put on another one on her, he’s all “Ohhhhh, I love that one TOO!”
And so and so forth. When I ask which one he likes best, his response?
“I love them all.”
I’m thinking of doing an “Susan Lucci” during Easter service and taking her to the bathroom every few minutes and putting a new outfit. Think of the gossip that would generate amongst the people!
(Yes. We’re going to church. And, yes. I’ve finally agreed to sing a song for my dad at church. With a background tape,people. A back.ground.tape. I do believe that qualifies this entry to be titled with something like “Church Cheese.” The truth is I don’t want to do it because a) it’s been years since I’ve sang b) I don’t feel right singing at church when I don’t even attend church regularly c) BACKGROUND TAPE. But, my dad has been asking me for years to sing on Easter, so, I’m going to do it. For him.)
I’m not sure what stresses me out more. The fact that I can’t choose an outfit for my daughter, or the fact that my CAMERA IS MISSING.
Boy, I sure have my “Easter” priorities in order! Because we ALL know Easter is about “Getting Photographed in The Perfect Easter Dress”!
And let’s not forget bunnies! And chocolate! And the decorating of hard boiled eggs!
Speaking of Eggs…
We’ll be doing decorating our eggs tonight. I’m hoping this year we get a little “Daddy Participation” because last year? Um, daddy just wasn’t that into it. Infact, daddy was SO not into it, that he actually FELL ASLEEP! WHILST HOLDING THE BABY!
Now comes the part where I post a little photographic evidence (but only because HAHA, it’s my favorite easter related photo EVER.)
In all seriousness, he will never, for as long as he lives, EVER live that moment down.
And with that, I wish you and your family a very Happy Easter. May your day be filled with peace and love. Also? May you not fall asleep during the coloring of the eggs, nor may your camera mysteriously disappear off of the face of the earth.
I’m not a big fan of Valentines Day.
Allow me to explain.
I was only 19 years old the year of our First Valentines as husband and wife.
You know how when you’re newly married (and still a TEENAGER) you believe in romance and crap?
So, I had this incredible fantasy of how my *sigh*husband*sigh* was going to spoil me rotten and make all of my Valentines Dreams come true.
Ha! HA! HA! HAAAAAAAAA!
This is how it went down.
“You’re gift is in the fridge, babe.”
So, I run to the fridge and see this little ass box of candy.
“THIS IS MY PRESENT?!”
“This is candy from where your sister works! Did you even have to pay for it?”
“I got it for 50% off!”
“AND! YOU KNOW I’M ON A DIET! Why in the hell would you buy me chocolate when you know I’m on a diet?”
“Well, babe, that’s why I got you a little box.”
I THREW the candy across the room, stormed off to the bathroom and cried for a very long time.
And it was on that day I realized that my husband who had led me to believe he was the most romantic man on the face of the earth (This one time? When we were talking on the phone? I told him I was cold because the heater in our house only kept the front of the house warm? He totally bought me a heater to put in my room and surprised me with it at church the following sunday and said “I don’t want my sweetie to be cold at night”. Romantic.) wasn’t really romantic at all, but, rather, just trying to get a piece of Pastors Kid Ass.
Having children has made me not hate the day as much as I used to. I have a great deal of fun buying them little gifts and writing them cheesy love notes.
Today, whilst walking back to the car after Ethan’s Valentines day party at school, he said “Man, Valentines day must feel people with a lot of joy because everyone is so sweet today.”
How can I hate a day that brings out The Lovah in my son?
Last year was my first Valentines with The Daughter I Never Thought I’d have.
I remember asking my son to take a couple pictures of the two of us together, in our pink and red shirts, so that I could always remember “my First Valentine” with my daughter.
My daughter who was still very much into The Bobs.
Today, I had hoped for the same kind of valentines day picture taking experiece. Kind of like how I had hoped for a really romantic first valentines day with my husband experience, but just as my fantasy wass shattered that day back in 1991, so was the dream of beautiful pictures of my daughter in her VERY CUTE pink outfit.
THE GIRL HAS REBELLED AGAINST THE CAMERA.
Full on rebelled.
When she sees the camera?
She runs away!
Or she sits down and TURNS HER BACK TO ME!
Or, she FLAT OUT REFUSES TO LOOK AT ME!
Or! She gives me dirty looks.
But, mostly? She just…
Another Valentines Day Fantasy down The Crapper.
The fantasy of taking some really awesome pictures of my daughter in her really awesome “pink” outfit with her really awesome red purse, that is, because it’s not as if the entire day was one of suckage.
Infact, it was one of those days were I just loved my children every minute of the day and where everytime I would look at them, I’d want to cry because my God, they are beautiful human beings.
I’ve been trying to edit my Christmas pictures all morning. (I say “trying” because, did you know my kids are off for two weeks? Which means that they have two weeks home together. Which means, TWO WEEKS TO FIGHT EVERY FREAKING MINUTE OF EVERY FREAKING DAY!?)
I didn’t take very good pictures this year, and I missed a lot of great shots, but I was too busy actually participating in the events of the day to worry to much about the photos I was taking.
Now I’m wishing I had worried about it a little bit, because man, I didn’t get any shots of all my kids together. That kills me.
The good news is that the memories are permenantly inscribed in my memory forever.
Gabby shaking her head violently whilst saying “no no no no noooooooo” if you got NEAR her toys and then, throwing herself to the ground if you DARED touch the toys. Ethan saying “These aren’t the guys I wanted, BUT, I’m not going to complain because they were bought with love.”. Andrew’s smile when he opened the xbox he wasn’t sure he’d get. My niece walking around with a Barbie guitar strapped around her neck singing “Outrageous.”
But the greatest moment happened when my boys surprised me by not running to the living room to tear open their gifts. Instead, they carefully picked out my gifts, then Tony’s and told us that they wanted us to open our presents first.
I was blown away. Surely, they couldn’t be serious!
“No, sweeties, you guys go first, you’ve been waiting for this for a long time, we can wait, you go ahead!”
“No, mom, we really want you and dad to go first, you deserve to go first.” And they sat their patiently, completely excited to watch our faces as we opened the gifts they had thoughtfully picked out for us.
Oh, the pride and love that bursts from my heart for those boys. They truly are incredible.
Later on that day, my husband pulled me aside. “My boys, they are good boys, and they’re that way because of you, their mommy. You’re the one who’s taught them to be so kind, so patient and so loving and I really need to show more respect and affection to you, the mother of my children.”
Oh, how I cried. It was the sweetest, most meaningful thing my husband had ever said to me. Because those children? They are everything to me and for my husband to acknowledge that the love and care I’ve given to them all of these years has played a role in the beautiful creatures they’re shaping up to be, well, it touched me.
I don’t write about how unappreciated I feel most days, because, my husband, he is a good man. Not the most romantic man, not the most expressive man, but he IS a good man. However, his inability to express his feelings often leaves me feeling hurt, unloved and unappreciated. So, when he said those words to me and I knew he meant them, I couldn’t hold back the tears because I’ve needed to hear those words for a very long time. Those words? They were the Perfect Gift.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to fart.
(Sorry, it was all That Cheese. Too much Cheese gives me gas.)
Christmas presents? Not wrapped!
Shopping? Not done!
House? A mess!
Showered? Dressed? Rested and looking pretty? Ha! HA! HAAA!
But you? I bet you’re all relaxing, listening to Christmas music, snacking on the delicious cookies you baked sometime earlier this week, whilst adoring your beautifully wrapped presents in your spotless house that smells like pine and peppermint, LAUGHING AT ME.
Hey, at least you’re laughing.
I really wanted to write a Beautiful Christmas Post about all of the love, joy and laughter in my life right now, but, because I suck at this “Holiday” thing, and because I’m late for Grandma’s house (Grandmpa is going to be PISSED) you get THIS instead.
Merry Christmas, y’all.
Taking your own christmas pictures of your own children is GREAT FUN!
(Ok, this one is hilarious to me, NOT because my daughter is all “Eff this, I’m OUTTA HERE!” But because of my boys. You see the smiles on their faces? I had “instructed” them in a very loud voice that they were to LOOK AT ME WITH SMILES NO MATTER WHAT GABBY WAS DOING. And, as you can see, they totally obeyed me. HA.)
(Look! The boys are still smiling!)
(Gabby’s trying to rip his head off and look! STILL SMILING! HA HA)
And SUCK IT, WE’RE DONE!
Obviously, I’ve not done a good job of teaching my daughter that GOOD GIRLS JUST SIT THERE AND LOOK PRETTY. (Dear Feminists, I’m just kidding. Love, Me.)
Do I need to tell you how hurt I am? This year, it’s SUCKY CHRISTMAS CARD PICTURES FOR EVERYONE!