My Peanut Gallery

I still don't have anything for ya, so here's a pic. The smart ass little kid reminded me of my peanut.

I got nothin, but I wanted to check in and say Hi.

So. Hi.

Hmmm, I really don't have anything going on. I'm going to play poker tonight. So wish me luck on that. And we have yet another birthday party to go to on sunday. Beyond that there's nothing going on.

What are you doing this weekend? Anything exciting? Anything you wanna tell me about so I can live vicariously through you?

If I think of anything exciting I'll be back to give you a real post.

It's "Administrative Professionals Day". That's just a mouthful right there. It used to be plain old secretary's day but someone had to go and get all politically correct and shit. What ever. I'm a secretary. I type shit, and web surf, and answer phones, and play games on yahoo, and file, and write my blog, and remind my boss of his appointments. I think I would actually be embararrassed to tell someone I was an "Administrative Professional".

Anyway my boss forgot it was secretary's day. Or not so much forgot as just didn't know it to begin with. That's okay though cause I had no idea about it till I saw an ad on msn to send "administrative professionals day" e-cards. So I did.

And then I googled the term to make sure it meant the same thing as secretary's day. If I can't admit to you guys my stupid moments, who can I admit them to?

I also googled secretary to make sure I was spelling it right.

But J remembered?/Knew about this totally fake hallmark holiday this wonderful day , and he brought me lunch and some flowers. So that was nice. We'll skip over the part about how I called him this morning to tell him it was secretary's day and "where's my gift" and how he got a little upset because he had actually already planned something and then I had to go and call him on it. My bad.

You would think on this most holy of all office days that the seat pissing bastards I work with my coworkers(all male) would at least have the decency to replace the toilet paper. Or even just put a roll on the back of the toilet. I guess not. Again- My bad. I'm sure I'll learn my lesson about not checking for TP after my 78th time of having to "drip dry". Bastards.

Alright, I'm outy. Since it's my day, I'm off to smash a fax machine or something out back.

I hope I don't get caught tho cause I don't want to go back to work at the restaurant. I already got rid of all my "flare" when I quit last year.
Yes, there was flare. only it wasn't called that, it was called "Where are all of your fucken buttons, no your name tag doesn't count".

I'm so bored right now you get 2 posts today. maybe more! I have absolutely nothing to do at work. And my 2 bosses are in a closed door meeting. That's not good because that usually means they are discussing who should be the next person to get laid off since we are so slow right now. I have a very small amount of job security in the fact that they hate to answer the phones, BUT they are not even ringing today :(

Things I would rather be doing right now:
sleeping
reading ( I don't know what as I have already read everyone on my blogroll.)
getting my teeth cleaned (well, they could use it)
napping
cleaning my house

If you know anything about me, you know its bad when I would rather be cleaning. Also, it's bad when the things i would rather be doing are just as boring as sitting here at work.

Speaking of cleaning-
Last week my throat felt like the fiery infernos of hell were living back there so I brought some clorox disinfecting spray in to work and cleaned everything I've ever touched here.
heh. It ate the varnish off of all the faux wood filing cabinets. oops.

I'm thinking about dying my hair.
I haven't decided what color.

I need to make an eye apt.

ogfrevkapos4g0765$%#)IFnfuvfo oaiuroet.......... sorry I just fell asleep on my keyboard. Where was I? I don't know.

Let's talk about my obssesion with the word ass.

I use it all the time. I can't seem to stop. let's see, there's:

ass face (better known as what I call the "dimple" pressed deeply into my chin, but thankfully not to the point of full on Leno) (but also could maybe be used to describe someone I find unattractive. alledgedly)

swamp ass (as in you smell like)

dumbass

asshole

quit talking out of your ass

asshat

assclown

ass (just plain)

asswipe

assfucker (this is not a gay slam, it is used on alot of things, even inanimate objects)

showing his/her ass

I'm sure there's more, I just can't think of them right now.
I might need an ass intervention.

Speaking of "Intervention" for some reason I sometimes find that show amusing.
I know. I'm an asshole.

Peanut has a little bedtime routine (you might remember how I like those) where everynight we put him in his bed and set his tv for 20 minutes. He knows that when the tv turns off, it's time to go to sleep.

Last night after his daily hose down, he decided to spend his pre-tv/bed time playing with his new leap pad book.

At the designated hour of 8:40pm he was told that it was time to go lay down and watch tv.
"But I want to read my book"
"It's time to go in your room"
"Can I read my book in my bed?"
"No. It's time to watch tv."***

DER!

Watchu need the book lernin fer ennyway? we got a tee vee right her.


***yes, as soon as I said it I realized how absolutely stoopid that was. He spent his 20 minutes lernin his letterz.

The day you were born I thought I couldn't love you anymore than I did at that moment, but every single day you prove me wrong.

I love how you take after me in so many ways : the one shoulder shrug, the little frown you get when you are concentrating, how you wiggle your foot any time you are sitting and always when you are trying to fall asleep, the smart mouth, the dimple in your chin, the texture of your hair, and the shape of your little hands.

I love the so many things that are uniquely you: how the shape of your ears don't match, how you snuggle down into my neck when you have fallen asleep and need to be carried to your bed, how you call me "mama" still, your little boy smell, your loud outrageous laughter, how you play "let's make a deal" when I tell you "No" about something, And how you make me laugh like no one else on this earth.

I love watching you become independent and hearing about how "big boys" do this or that. I love the almost daily occurrence of a loud crash and your yell of "I'M OKAY! I'M OKAY!!!" which translates into "stay where you are, there's no need to come look and see what I've just knocked over/broken/ruined".

I love that you have a smart mouth and know how to use it. I love how you tell me that "I am the boss of me" and then inform us of whatever it is that you will/will not be doing. Because that lets me know that you feel safe and secure enough with us to push as hard as you can as often as possible. I love your little eye roll "what, are you stupid?" face, that you did not get from me no matter what your daddy says.

I love the fact that you spontaneously walk up to me and say "I love you mama" just because you want to.

I love that you make me a better person.

I love the fact that even for all there is today, tomorrow you will show me something new to be added to the category of Things I love about you.

And there really are so many more things, things that I will think about as soon as I post this, things that will make me wake up in the middle of the night with remembrance, and things that will make me smack myself upside the head and say "jesus, how could I forget that?!" But it will be alright because you already know all of this. Because we tell you everyday.

Sunday, April 20th 2003
4:32 am.

I wake up unknowing what it was exactly that woke me. 6 minutes later I have a contraction. I get up, careful not to wake up J and head out to the living room to watch some tv. My contractions are steady from the very beginning, within 10 minutes they are coming every 5 minutes. I am weirdly calm.

7:30 am.

"hey, you need to wake up."
"wha?? why?"
"I'm having contractions."
"What?! For how long."
"They've been 5 minutes apart for about 3 hrs."
he glares at me.
"why the hell didn't you wake me up?!"
"I knew it wasn't time yet. I'm still not sure it's time but the Lamaze lady said that when they are steadily 5 minutes apart we should go to the hospital."

He gets up and calls the Dr. while I go take a shower.

9:30 am.

We get to the hospital and the Dr. takes a look. Then he sends me home because I am only 1 & 1/2 centimeters dilated. At this point I freak a little but only because my lamaze lady had said 5 minute contractions are the cue to go to the hospital, and dear god now how will i know it's really time to go?

We go home and I am restless. Moving from the chair to the couch to the bed. The contractions are not really painful yet, they are just bad enough to make me uncomfortable.

11:30 am

We decide to go to Bennigans for my last hot meal for the foreseeable future.
As the server is taking J's order I get up to go to the bathroom. Sharp inhale of breath as a stronger contraction hits me. I over hear her ask J, as I waddle to the rest room, if I am ok.
"Oh, she's fine. She's just in labor"
Heh.
We receive the quickest service we have ever gotten.
Within 7 minutes she brings out our meals. and some to go boxes. and the check.

Spend the rest of the day between sitting, pacing, or trying to sleep. Unable to do any of them as my contractions get worse.

9:00 pm.

We go down to the apartment complex pool because I have it in my head that being in water will take the edge off of the contractions.

Spend the next 2 hours dragging J between the pool and the hot tub every 5 minutes.

11:15 pm. once again in the hot tub

"Hope? I think we should go home and call the Dr. again."
"What? why?"
"Your contractions are only 2 minutes apart."
"No they're not."
"Uh, yes. they are. I've been timing them. Why else would I have my watch on in the freaking pool?"
"Oh."

I go pee (again) as J calls the Dr.
me: "oh ewwww."
J: "what?"
me: "something... something just came out of me!"
J: what do you mean something just came out of you!"
Dr. (on phone): "ask her what it looks like" J repeats question.
me: "So gross. It looks like bloody SNOT! WTF"
Dr: "Tell her that's her mucus plug. She needs to come back to the hospital. How far apart are her contractions?"
J: "about 2 minutes"
Dr.: "Bring her now."

J goes to get my overnight bag and the car seat. I get a little scared and a lot stubborn.
"I'm not going."
"WHAT?!"
"I'M NOT GOING BACK TO THE DAMN HOSPITAL!"
"Yes. You are. The Dr. said to come."
*whining* "They said that this morning too and then they sent me home!"
"If you let me take you, they will give you something for the pain."
"Okay but I swear to god I am not leaving till they give me something."

We get to the hospital and the nurse checks me. I am at 4 & 1/2 centimeters so they decide to keep me. And they are going to give me a shot of nubain. Upon hearing that news I immediately go back to being calm. I am in triage for over an hour while they try to find me a room because it seem that everybody and their damn mother has gone into labor today.

1:00 am Monday, April 21st

I am hooked up to all kinds of machines and an IV so no more walking around for me. They wheel my bed into my room. The nurse takes some blood so I can get my epidural. Because I am having back labor J spends the time between 12:00 am and 3:30 am rubbing my back.

3:00 am

The nurse comes in to check my progress.
"don't bear down through your contractions."
"what? I'm not!"
"yes. you are. you need to breath it out."
"I'm NOT bearing down. I am trying TO RIP THESE BED RAILS OFF!"

"You need to breath babe."
"Don't say it again"
"Ok"

"When am I going to get my epidural?!"
"Oh, the computer's down so we're still waiting for your blood work to come back." my my, how nice to be so nonchalant about it.
I stare at her in horror (better know as the hate you feel for your most bitter enemy)

J: "Umm, She's been waiting for it for 3 hours now. is there some other way to get the results? Could you maybe go down to the lab and get them?"

The nurse takes one look at my demon red eyes and spinning head.......
"Yeah, let me go see what I can do."

3:30 am.

Blissful numbness. I feel nothing from my ribs down. Contemplate either giving the anesthesiologist Dr. a blow job or naming my son after him.

4:30 am
J's mom and sister have arrived. At this point I'm glad they are here but they know I'm not going to want them in the room when it's time.

"I either just pissed myself or my water broke"

J calls the nurse to check me out. She comes in and whips off my blanket providing the entire room with a good view of the girlie bits. stupid whore.

7:30 am

A new nurse (YAY shift change) comes in to check my progress.

"You are only at 5 centimeters. I'm going to put in a catheter and drain your bladder because sometimes a full bladder can slow up the process."

J and his mom head down to the cafeteria, his sister stays with me in the room.
"You guys can stay."
"what?"
"You guys can stay. It's not like "The Other" didn't already make a spectacle of my nether regions."
"Are you serious? This is so great. Thank you."

7:45 am
"Yep that's what it was. You're already at 9 centimeters"
I love you new nurse. I knew the last one was a tard. you should school her on your bladder knowledge.

8:10 am-
"Your at 10 centimeters! Ready to push?"
"Umm. Sure. I mean I guess....."

She sets up the room. Bringing in all the equipment.

8:50-9 :00 am
I start pushing, at the same time I'm thinking about the fact that there is no Dr. in the room and maybe new nurse is a tard too?, but at this point whatever lets just get this over with.

"Stop pushing"
"ok"
she goes over to phone and pages the Dr. "STAT", numerous nurses rush around the room and my monitors.

"Put this oxygen mask on"
"Whats going on?"
"Just put this on"

"What's going on?"
no response.
Okay that's it "new nurse" is a tard too.

The Dr. walks in...
"What's going on?" yes, I'd like to know that also.
"When she started pushing the baby's heart rate dropped to 80"
"Oh, well. (she turns to look at me) You're going to have to have a C-section. I have another one scheduled in half an hour. So we can do it now or you can wait until after I'm done with that one."
"Uh. I'll wait."

Everybody leaves but J, his mom and his sister.
"I'm not having a C-section"
"Hope....."
"whatever. I don't want to argue about it."

J and his sister go down to the cafeteria. I turn from my left side which they have made me move to, onto my right side which is how I slept through my whole pregnancy and what the baby is used to. I know the Dr. said stay on my left, but sometimes you know your body better than any Dr. does.
Because I can't feel my contractions, I watch the monitor for the onset of each one. For 25 minutes I silently push through each contraction, while watching his heart rate monitor for any drop.

9:25 am

"could you call J and tell them to come back here."
"what's wrong?"
"nothing is wrong. except I feel like I need to sh..poop. That means I need to push"
"Ok, I'm calling him right now."
"You might want to push the call button for the nurse too."

Everyone comes back, I start pushing, everything is going good (ahem that's right, on my right side), the Dr. comes back from her C-section and is happy to see I won't need one.

Let me just take a minute here to say- Fuck You TLC channel. Fuck you and every episode of "Baby story" that I ever watched. Because of your stupid show I had every expectation of getting this baby out in 4 or 5 pushes!

45 minutes later! At 10:11 am, He finally came out. Crying blah blah, laughing blah blah. etc.

Not once during the birth did I look up at the mirror. I'm not good with blood and didn't want to pass out in the middle of pushing. So I'm laying there and the Dr. tells me to push again so my placenta will come out. That didn't work so I feel her start tugging on the cord, that didn't work either. Just as I look up at the mirror *gasp* I see her STICK HER WHOLE FREAKING HAND UP TO HER ELBOW ALL UP INSIDE MY UTERUS TO PULL OUT MY PLACENTA. It was not a good moment for me.

Then I got to hold him and feed him.
It was the best spent 30 hours of my life.

So, we bought a fundraiser ticket for $100 the other day. For the next 10 months they will pull a ticket every month and some lucky winner will get $10,000. And if your ticket is pulled, not only do you win, but your ticket goes back with the other ones for the remaining months. Woot! We could possibly win $100,000. And they're only selling 2000 tickets, so that's pretty good odds, right?

I might as well have put that money in the garbage can.

I never win anything. Not "door prizes", not "name pulling" from a hat, not even bingo. Especially not raffle tickets. Not ever.

que: "Marsha, Marsha, Marsha"

But do you know what's worse than going to a fundraiser and spending all of the money you brought with you on raffle tickets, in the hopes of "this time! This time I. Will. Win."?

Being everyone else's effin lucky charm.

It all started at a St. Patricks day Fundraiser at the church with my Brother-in-law, who at this point in the story had not won any of the previous drawings:

bil: "Hey. I'm going home. Since you're gonna be here would you check my tickets for me in the rest of the drawings?" ("since you're gonna be here..." yes, 'we' are at all fundraisers long after everyone else has gone home because my FIL is usually the chairman and 'we' stay to help him clean up.) (by "we" I mean J, as I sit my ass on a chair yawning at 1:00 am)

me: "Ok"

Guess who won the next drawing.

Another event:

sil: " could you hold my tickets while I go to the bathroom?"
stupid me: "sure"
*5 minutes later*
me: "Here, you won a gold bracelet"
sil: "heh. thanks for holding my tickets"

This has happened no less than 6 times at the last 3 fundraisers we've been to.

There's more.

Most of the time at functions I am one of the people selling the raffle tickets (I know, cruel, right?). chances are if your ticket gets pulled, I sold it to you. One night one of the guys at our table won 5 drawings in a row. And they shook the bucket up between each drawing.
guess who sold him his tickets? Better yet, guess who had the ticket #'s directly before and directly after.

It's like they suck the luck right out of me!

My life is boring.
It's boring because that's how I like it. I like orderly. And routine. I like things to be as I expect them. I do not like surprises. Or change. Or when everything happens and has to be taken care of at once.

This week is kinda crazy. Not really, but alot of things are going on and it's screwing with my OCD.

Peanut's birthday is on Saturday (I would just like to say to everyone who told me 4 is the best- I have not seen it so far!) so I am busy with party stuff, his cousin's birthday party is Sunday, he has another party on Sunday for a school friend, J is sick- possible tonsillitis, and his pee was all out of whack (possible liver problems?) so we're waiting on the blood tests, I have to schedule peanut's yearly check up at the Dr., and an appt to set up his VPK stuff at school, and order a copy of his birth certificate. I have no idea why we never ordered that before. And I would usually take care of most of this stuff at work but of course, guess what- There is actual work stuffs to be done here at work this week. Figures.

VPK is...... well to be honest I'm not even sure what that stands for. But! it will save me $35 a week on preschool. So yeah I'm in. It's basically a program to make sure your child is ready for kindergarten. The school gets paid by the government to teach a certain curriculum to the children 3 or 4 hours everyday. There's more but I wasn't really paying attention. I was done at "saves you $35 a week". Oh and it's offered to every 4 year old in the state. I think they said it was part of the "No child left behind" program.

And in one of life's great ironies I was told "You need to hurry and set up your appt. because there are only so many spots available."
Yes, only so many spots- in a "No Child left behind" program.

I'll just leave you now to ponder that, while I go order hid birth certificate.

Edited to add: I almost forgot- my car has been running like shit lately so yesterday our mechanic friend Roy took a look at it and drove it around.
" You're gonna get killed trying to pull out into traffic."
"What?"
"Only one of your spark plugs was firing so I put all new ones in. And you need to put some fuel injection cleaner in it. And your tires were all low so I filled them up. And when I was doing that I noticed one of your front tires is bald so i switched it to the back but we need to replace it."
"Shit. no wonder it was running so rough."
"yeah." "OH! and your rear brakes have no shoes left so if we don't replace them by, like tomorrow?, you will have to get new rotors."
"awesome."
"And you really need to service your transmission soon."
"perfect"

Sooooo.....

Hey everybody.

How ya doin?

How ya been?

I don't really have a post, I just had to get that last one off the top of the page. Because *gag* and WhatEvah.

Stupid pills.

On top of the "tragedy that is my life", the pills have brought something MUCH worse.

(segue to the TMI part)

This one time (very recently), at sex camp (also referred to as "the bedroom") I had a hard time.....achieving....ummm.....well...... release. Ok that's a lie. More than a hard time, as it didn't happen at all.

Now before you go and say, well maybe he just wasn't doing it right, he was. And even if he wasn't (which he totally was) that does not explain how it still didn't happen after I *ahem* tried to seal the deal myself.

Pfft, you say. It happens, you say.

Then there was this one time(even more recently) at sex camp (see above), when I was able to complete the mission, But I had to reach for it. I'm talking stretch way out there and reach for it cause it was not even trying to meet me half way.

Unacceptable. Effin pills.

Crazy tragic Vagina Brain?(thanks for the term paper doll) I can deal.
Orgasmless sex? I don't even think so.

If it happens again, I'm calling my Dr.
Posthaste.

3 months ago my Dr. changed my birth control because my PMS was horrible. Like i was just itching to be out of my own skin. It was not safe to talk to me. I was beyond moody and into the rage territory. For anyone that thinks that is an exaggeration- it's not. There was a time I thought about smashing my car into the dumpster behind my work, not because I wanted to hurt myself, but just because the smashing would have been soooo satisfying. And the time I almost hit J in the head with a pan. And the time I wanted to kick my boss' little dog. And the one I'm most ashamed to admit, and almost didn't write, was the screaming and the urge to spank my son for the simplest of requests. Mommy I need a drink, or mommy could you put a movie on for me, would snap my temper in less than a second. It was ugly, and not a way I wanted to treat my child. I knew it was my pills because it only happened the couple days before my period. So I went and got them changed.

It was like night and day. 2 months in a row I was surprised to see that my period would be starting. No moodiness, and definitely no rages, to remind me that it was almost time.

But then last month a couple days after my period i was a little depressed. I shrugged it off as just being a bad day and promptly forgot about it.

But then yesterday i was feeling sad, and..... I don't know. Maybe melancholy.
today I have moved on to feeling adrift. And crying. And thinking about things that I don't normally give a second thought.

Like the fact that if J and peanut, for whatever reason, were not in my life anymore, I would be one of those people. You know, the ones you see on the news that have been dead for however long and no one knew because there was no one in their life that cared. Or I could end up crazy and homeless with no one knowing where to even begin to look for me, because no one else in my life is close to me.

Who would notice?

My boss, only when i didn't show up for work. Maybe my internet friends, (who might know my first name but not my last and so how would they know where to look for me) if there was no post here for a while and nothing from me on GG's site. It would take my friends at least a week but more probably 2, to start wondering why they haven't heard from me. Certainly not my family, who i go without talking to for weeks or even sometimes months at a time.

So I'm feeling adrift, in a world full of people. Like a forgotten party balloon, untied and unwanted, floating away in the sky. Feeling like there are not that many people that I matter to. Knowing that it's probably just the pills that my body is still getting used to, but helpless to stop feeling sorry for myself.

*sigh*
please excuse me now while I go to the restroom so that I will at least have some privacy while I cry.

Well, here it is. The template of the moment. Not because I like it oh so much, I don't really, but because like the dumbass computer illiterate person that I am, I lost my old template. That's right I LOST it. I downloaded it, I swear I did, and then poof! like there are magical trouble making little leprechauns removing files from my computer.

I like the template but..... I want to change the picture. I know how to technically change the picture to something else but what I really want to do is fix the picture that is there. I would like the heart removed and a "Mr. Peanut" drawn in the sand. I don't even know if that's possible. I downloaded a trial version of photoshop but it seems I am illiterate in that also.

Here is my plea: To any of you- if you know how to do this photoshop thing, could you tell me if it's possible to change the picture how I want it? If so could you tell me how to do it? Or fix it for me? You could email me, you could comment here, you could stay anonymous(I'm lookin at you, lurkers) But Please! For my sanity, for the love of any hair left on my head. I need some help because it is bugging the crap out of me. And I would love you as much as my second born child, if I had one.

I'm begging here people.

if you stop by and see a bunch of different layouts, you're in the right spot, I'm just trying out new templates cause I'm sick of the old one. So until I pick a template alot of my side bar and links are missing. I'll be back up and running again shortly. I hope.

Ok, here they are. The pictures of the haircut. Let me just say first that the haircut is fine, I've had it this short before, but usually when I get it cut in a bob it's longer in the front than in the back, and it's stacked or layered(whatever it's called) and not just cut straight across like a certain perpetually 5 year old explorer we all know.

My point was I went in for a trim. I ended up with a haircut.

Anyway here it is, and at least I was having a good hair day.



And now, since I try to keep it real around here, is another picture of how I really look (wearing the glasses that I told myself I was only going to wear until I made an appt. with the eye Dr. to renew my contacts prescription. Yeah, that was 2 years ago, I should probably get on that.)
Oh, and it has notes.




a) Fake smile that shows up in every picture of me no matter how hard I try not to.
b) somehow I managed to give myself the wonky eye in both of these pictures.
c) proof that my ears turn red when I am embarrassed. (such as when I take my own picture for the sole purpose of putting it on my blog. I hate having my picture taken.)
d) NOT a trim length.
e) What I would consider an acceptable trim length.

Well there they are, Joy, Have the T, and Carrie, for your viewing pleasure. :)

I called my sister B(half sister-different mom)* on Tuesday to ask her if she is gonna bring my nieces to peanut's B-day party.

"Is .... gonna be there"
20 seconds of silence while I stop myself from screaming at her that it shouldn't matter if ... will be there. When is my family going to grow up?
"It doesn't matter, of course we'll be at 'little man's' party. I'll just ignore him if he is there." thank you god for letting her read my mind so I didn't have to fight with her about this.
"Thank you. I don't think he's coming anyway."

There's always a hesitation with my family. With everyone in my family. Ask any one of them if they will be somewhere and before they give you an answer they will ask "is (whoever) gonna be there?". At least one of them is fighting with another one at any given time of the year.

I'm having peanut's party in a public place and paying $20 per kid, mostly because he likes going to this place, but partly in hopes that my family will behave themselves better in a public setting than they do at home. On peanut's 1st birthday my Aunt had a screaming fit about something and started a fight with my husband. In front of all our guests, I had to tell her to Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. House. I didn't speak to her for almost a year. That's how long it took her to realize that I really didn't care if I never spoke to her again. So she finally apologized.

At least if I have the party in a public place I won't have to be the one to call the cops on them. The amusement park people will do that themselves if things get out of hand.

This is my reality. This is how it is and it's never gonna change. That doesn't even make me sad anymore.
Confusingly, that makes me sad. The fact that I've given up hope for my family to "be normal" and have just moved on to.......... I'm not even sure what I've moved on to, but indifference is the closest thing to describe how I feel about them.

*yes there was a reason for making the relation clear, one of these days I will do a post on my family tree. There are not as many branches as there probably should be. No we are not from Kentucky.

I don't know what's going on with peanut lately. He's having some kind of seperation axiety. again.

We've went through this stage already twice before. I don't know what triggers it, he will be fine for months and then just start up again with the crying anytime we leave him somewhere. Even at J's parent's or at our house with my mom there.

He's always reminding us that he's a "big boy now" but it's like at the same time he's scared of getting big. He wants to try/do all of these new things, and he does do them, he participates and plays with other kids but he's constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure we're still there. Right where he left us.

The only place he doesn't cry is when I drop him off at pre-school. He gives me a hard time about going everyday but once we get there he's fine. I don't know if it's because he would be embarrassed to cry around the other kids or if he just knows it's a lost cause because he has to go to school. I guess the reason doesn't really matter, I should just count myself lucky. It's one less thing to fight with him about everyday.

He doesn't want us to be out of sight but at the same time he's been pushing hard for his independence. He doesn't want to go to school, he doesn't want to take a bath (he used to cry when we would make him get out), he doesn't want to eat that, he doesn't like to go to bed, he doesn't want to wear that shirt. I understand that he's seeing how far he can push us, that he's looking to expand the boundaries we have set for him, and I try to be flexible on the stuff that doesn't really matter to me but will make him happy. I let him pick his clothes, i figure he's been big enough for that for a while, I don't even argue with him when what he picks happens to be a striped blue and yellow shirt and red shorts. Yes I would like him to match but really what reason would I have to make him change? Because I might be embarrassed that he looks like a raggamuffin? So what. Let him be.

It's gotten a little harder now that he's trying to push us, J is still reaching for the level of patience this age requires and peanut knows that. He knows that if he asks enough times or cries long and hard enough J will usually give in to whatever he was crying about. It doesn't always work but it does often enough to make him try every single time. I'm not saying it's just J though, i admit that sometimes I give in just for the peace and quiet- which I'm sure is why J does it too. It's not peanut's fault, it's something we need to crack down on ourselves for.

I don't really know where I'm going with this except that if 4 is going to be this hard then I can just imagine what 10 years from now will be like.

I know that most times my writing on here makes me sound as if I am somewhat of.....a nit wit, or an air head......"Elle Woods"-ish even. What with all the- obviously, apparently, seriously, actually, awesome, & like- peppered throughout each post.

But lets face it people. I write fluff. That's right, I write about things that make me, and hopefully you, laugh. And talking like Elle Woods makes me laugh. Which I like to do. So. There it is. Fluff- valley girl style.

However, in real life I don't talk like that.
Unless I'm drunk and then it's-
friend: "I wonder what (whoever) is doing"
and then I'm all: "Oh my god! I Lurve her. no seriously I actually love her! I haven't seen her in so long! Let's call her! Because I love her!" I know, it's annoying.

Most times, IRL, I talk like the somewhat educated, somewhat smart person I am. i even know how to write a paper with the correct punctuations (which you wil not find here).

Seriously, if you came to my house we could have a nice boring interesting discussion on politics (or not) or world news (please no) or even religion (uh, not to be rude but, I don't think so).

Actually, we could discuss the latest happenings on "Lost" or "Desperate Housewives" or "American Idol" (just let me know in advance so I can start watching them).

Ok. In real life we would probably just sit in our respective chairs reading trashy novels, drinking straight from the box-o-wine, while my son jumps on the furniture screaming "Jesus Christ woman! Where is my fricken snack ?!"

Wanna come over?
It'll be awesome.
Seriously.

Alternitively titled: Why you should never give in to the impulse to get your hair trimmed at the barber shop, even though she just gave your son a terrific haircut.

SIL: "Wow"
Me: "Yeah"
Sil: "I like it"
Me: "it'll grow back"
Mother in law walks into the room....
MIL: "Heeeyy, How cute, Olie got her haircut this morning justl ike that!"

Olie will be 5 in three weeks. 5.