Mama In Stilettos

Tag

So I desperately NEED to have a tag sale.  When I first moved into my house, I had everything organized, labeled and knew what everything was in the storage part of the basement.  This was about 3 and a half years ago.  

Since then, "Stuff" ("stuff" being baby contraptions, extra christmas decorations, extra curtains, comforters and decorations...And all kinds of RANDOM crap that has accumulated  and found it's way down there. Like my husband's fascination for keeping empty boxes, cause ya never know when you are going need the blender box, or the Guitar Hero box.) has overtaken my basement and has now made it's way into the "partially finished" side of the cellar.  So every time I walk downstairs I start breathing heavy and my chest tightens up in anxiety because it is  starting to look like an episode of Hoarders.  I, for one, would be a cheerleader of renting a small dumpster and throwing all kinds of crap away.  But no.  I am told that everyone loves a good tag sale, especially when there are baby clothes and toys involved.

So I am suckerd into dragging everything into my garage and labeling the everloving life out of things.  Because I JUST HAVE THE KIND OF TIME.  So here I am carting books, blankets and toys in my only FREE TIME of the day.  But I'm not bitter.

Guess I am about to make a boatload of money (heh heh).  

Oops!

Wooden Spoon vs. Blender

Little do you know how genius I am.  Do you even KNOW how easy it was to get tomato paste out of the can with this new contraption?? Yup.  And I thought I was just being an idiot.  That and avoiding the jaw shivering clanging of metal in my blender (not that I have EVER done that before).  Maybe I shouldn't put anything but food in my blender?  And then mix when the blades are not chopping ferociously?  

Loyalty

So I have a bone to pick.

I had this really tight group of friends in high school.  We did everything together.  I swear.  I lived for weekends and for the midweek events that would bring us all together.  School was such a minor part of my social life.  My boyfriend went to a different high school, my best friend went to a different high school and my two other guy friends were older than I was and they lived in different towns too.  

We were a force to be reckoned with.  We were definitely the fab five, no doubt about it.  We spent every weekend together and laughed our heads off constantly.  Wasn't that what best friends did?  We went through drive thru's backwards in our cars, went four wheeling in a crappy jeep with no seat belts, jumped from cliffs into murky water filled with disgusting fish, spent summer nights at the pool with take out pizza and harassed each other at our individual jobs.  I absolutely loved being with my friends.  Part of me was defined by my friendships.  And I was proud of it.  Not many people can say that they had such a tight knit "gang".  

Well, life is life and things do change.  I was the first to get married, but I was still very close to my friends, especially my best friend.  We were still inseparable.  She was my maid of honor and my confident.  

Slowly but surely our group dissipated, marriage being the biggest deal breaker.  My two closest guy friends got married and quietly disappeared into their roles as husbands.  One of them completely disappeared and the other I still talked to and was friends with his wife.  I actually "set them up", as she was my friend in college.  

So there you have it.  I was still very close to my best friend and one of my guy friends and his wife, but my other guy friend and ex, not so much.  They kinda fell off the face of the earth for me.  I was sad that our group changed because I always had this fantasy that we would be friends forever.  We would have families and we would grow together and change together as our lives matured.  But that didn't happen.

I had a "falling out" of sorts from the guy friend that I still talked to.  I made a few mistakes because I was upset and I ended up hurting him and his wife.  Although I apologized twice and was extremely sincere, they simply chose not to forgive.  I can't imagine how exhausting it is to carry such a grudge, but that's just not what I do.  I don't get it.  That's not how I live my life.  I forgive and move on.  Do I forget the hurt? No, of course not.  That just wouldn't be human.  But I choose to move past it and start fresh.  Get past the initial awkwardness and begin again.  Isn't that what life is about anyways? Growth and mistakes?  But again, I am loyal to my friendships.  I am willing to do anything for my friends.  It's just who I am as a person.  

So now it's current.  I am still fiercely close and devoted to my best friend, and recently bumped into my ex.  Which was good because he recently joined the Army.  So I guess you never know when someone joins the military.  So I was glad for the chance to see him before he was shipped off somewhere and completely out of my orbit forever.

Last night I received a text message from my "best friend" saying "Don't be too shocked by the pictures on Facebook."  I was confused, of course.  And it was late and I had a loooooong day, a headache and a broken toe (omg. AND husband kicked it accidentally while we were out.  I saw STARS and almost passed out from the pain.  Right there in JCPenny furniture department.  Then? Almost KILLED him...Anyhow....).  I grabbed my computer and hopped into bed.

And I couldn't believe my eyes.

Surely me eyes were lying to me.

They had a "reunion".  And I wasn't even invited.  I didn't even know it was or did happen.  And there, right there, were pictures posted.

Are you kidding me?

There they were: my "best friend", two guy friends and my ex.  All together.  At the same place.  For the first time since I don't even know when.  Maybe since someone got married like 10 years ago?? 

And the thing is?  Is that my "best friend" and I talked about a "reunion" ALL THE TIME.  

And it happened.  And I wasn't there.

How hurtful is that?

And the excuse?  That I may have a problem with one of the guy friends because of that "issue" that was SO long ago is was before Obama was even President.  

Seriously? Get over it.  For the sake of a "reunion"? Get over it.  If you are a genuine friend?  You would accept the apology and MOVE ON.  

And here's the kicker.  My "best friend" was there.  And the thing is? Is that I would NEVER attend something like that without her.  NEVER.  Possibly I am loyal to a fault.  Why did she go without me?  I will never know.  Did she orchestrate the entire thing behind my back? Omg. My heart hurts.  

I spent the night crying last night.  

And crying this morning.

To see pictures of your best friends of ALL TIME together without you is so incredibly heart breaking I can't even explain.  How can I not be hurt?  

So I thought maybe I was overreacting.  Turns out I'm not.  My mom hurts for me and my husband?  Just plain mad because of how upset I am and how people can do this to me.  And my other bestie?  Totally gets it.  So I know I'm not crazy or insane (because sometimes? I totally am.).

I am allowing myself to be hurt right now.  And a little (or a lot) angry.  But then I need to forgive and move on with my true friends.  

As my mom says: "Get better, not bitter."

This is what I choose.

Rage and Destruction

This is an exact account of actual events that took place last night.

1. went to bed with a raging migraine

2.  took enough migraine medication to medicate a small elephant

3. woke up an hour later because the migraine was WORSE

4.  2 year old wakes up

5.  try to soothe 2 year old back to bed

6.  2 year old screams at the top of her lungs

7.  2 year old has diarrhea and bum is on fire

8. walk into bedroom and walk straight INTO chest at the end of my bed

9. break left baby toe

10.  2 year old comes into bed

11.  struggle with ice pack over foot

12.  bandage ice to foot

13. realize that i have to pee AFTER the ice is on the foot

14. have to walk to the bathroom with ice balancing on outside of left foot

15.  can't sleep because of extreme PAIN in HEAD and now FOOT

16.  5am------>sleep

17.  730am: 4 year old wakes up with a screaming fever.

What a great day this is going to be! 

I swear.....Could I make this stuff up?!?!?!?

Gastly

Does anyone experience this??

I walk across my kitchen floor and at a certain spot, my sock sticks to the floor.  Something sticky is there....Probably juice, coffee, or various food spewed out of the mouths of toddlers.  Anyhoo, I DESPISE dirty floors.  So I whip out the Pine Sol and paper towels to attack the stickiness and...I CAN'T FIND IT! 

I swear! I keep looking around trying to reenact the "sock-sticking-to-floor" ...Walking around square inch by square inch trying to make my sock stick to the mess once again so I can MAKE IT DISAPPEAR.  Yet?  It is now a ghost.  

But the thing that happens is that at various times throughout the day?  The exact same scenario plays out.  Me: Sticking to the floor, trying to memorize the stickiness area, running to grab the Pine Sol and the grimy spot DISAPPEARING! 

Oh my god how I want to just grab a bucket of hot water, soap, a sponge and scrub my entire floor because of this stupid phantom nastiness.

About 6 hours later and after the scenario plays out about 5 or 6 times there is enough dirt now present on the phantom stickiness that I can attack it.

Now...Who can I yell at?  Who MADE MY FLOOR DIRTY?!!

Loogies

Really? What IS it with guys and their refusal to see a doctor.  Even when they are blatantly sick.  And when I say sick, I mean SICK.  Like hacking up a lung sick.  Like "my lungs are now BLACK" sick.  

This is my husband.  And the ironic thing?  Is that my husband is a health care PROFESSIONAL.  He, in the words of my four year old, "makes people better".  Granted, he's not a primary care doctor, but he IS a medical encyclopedia.  And, yes.  Some people DO use him as their primary care doctor, so that being said, he KNOWS.  He really KNOWS.

So for two weeks he has been hacking and hacking. ALL OVER THE HOUSE.  A couple times to the point where I have screamed at him to go to the doctor before storming off out of bed with my blankets at midnight because there was NO WAY I could sleep through the goose barks.  And the other thing?  Is that he thinks that when he coughs?  He should then proceed to "hock up a loogie"  and spit it in the closest available sink. This could be the main bathroom, the "guest bathroom" or the KITCHEN sink.  I'm sorry, but I think that this is the grossest and most unsanitary thing EVER.  Ok, if you MUST spit?  Spit in a TISSUE and THROW IT AWAY.  I may even cut you some slack and tolerate spitting in the toilet, but only if you can guarantee that it be flushed immediately because I definitely DO NOT need to see it or I may barf.  And the thing is, is that he will run the water after and "wash it down the sink".  Sorry to say that IT DOESN'T ALWAYS GO DOWN, as he insists that it does on the hundreds of occasions I have "spoken" to him about this.  So I have had to scrub and disinfect throat induced snot from both of my bathrooms and my kitchen sink, all while I gag, on a daily basis for the last TWO WEEKS.  I am so done with it.

But the question is WHY he does this.  What is his thinking behind this obscene behavior.  You really want to know?  Remember he is a HEALTH CARE PROFESSIONAL.  His words: "I am coughing up the sickness.  I feel like I can get the germs up."  Whhhhaaaaaaat?  Now.  I may now have a medical degree or license but I definitely DO know that you can't get rid of sickness by coughing it out of your body, otherwise I would never have to take medication ever.  Just cough it up and all is okay.  No worries!  Simply cough as though your life depends on it,  get some big 'ol snot in your throat and upchuck it into your kitchen sink.  HEALED! 

So last night our youngest, Cam Bam, was up until midnight coughing and coughing....Again more yelling: "GO TO THE DOCTOR.  YOU HAVE BEEN COUGHING ALL OVER THIS HOUSE FOR TWO WEEKS.  NOW THE ASTHMATIC CHILD IS SICK WITH YOUR BLACK LUNG SICKNESS!"  Cam Bam: <cough cough> <cough cough> Breathing treatment..... Chris: <cough cough> <cough cough>

5am

Cam Bam: <cough cough> <cough cough> <cough cough GAG> repeat for 10 minutes.  breathing treatment....

<cough cough> sporadically for next 45 minutes

6am

Cam Bam: <cough cough> <cough cough> <cough cough GAG> STEROID breathing treatment.. Chris: <cough cough HOCK HOCK....spit> <cough cough>

6:30am

Cam Bam: <cough cough> <cough cough> <cough cough GAG> <GAG> "SARAH, SHE JUST THREW UP PHLEM!"  breathing treatment.... Chris: <cough cough HOCK HOCK....spit> <cough cough>

Sarah: "CHRIS GO TO THE FREAKING DOCTOR OR DON'T BOTHER COMING HOME."

So I have had no more than 4-5 hours of sleep, and I feel like I am starting to want to cough.

Excuse me while I go and "hock up SEVERAL loogies (in tissues)" to heal myself while giving millions of breathing treatments today.

Bake Off!

So now everyone thinks that I can't cook.  I guess I carry that stigma ever since I set the kitchen on fire a while back. 

Well....I'm baaaaack.  I have to be because of this friggin' celiac sentence that I have been given.  What the heck?  Now I can't pull into Boston Market, order a chicken and side and say I cooked a home meal! Well, I actually could, but then I would spend the next several days in severe agony that I wouldn't wish upon my dog-catcher-calling neighbor ..Well, maybe he could handle that.  Wait a minute.  He deserves a little agony. Anyhoo,  I now have to cook in oder to maintain life inside my body.  Because I have now learned that we all need food to survive.  I tried eating rice noodles for several weeks...Then graduated to chicken and brown rice.  What became of this? SEVERE DEPRESSION where I wanted to shove cake in my mouth (but couldn't) and then wanted to inflict pain upon those who told me "Oh! Don't worry! This is the BEST time to be diagnosed with this! Like, there are SO many gluten free things right now!"  Yeah.  Did ya ever think about drive thru?  Did ya ever think about burgers and fries?  Did ya ever think about pizza? (although? just recently, I HAVE found the alma mater)..But still...Just picking up the phone and ordering something "take out".  Never gonna happen in my world except for like 1 restaurant 20 minutes away, thanks.

Anyways, so I have NO CHOICE but to cook dinners, treats, cakes and breads for myself.  Or risk hurting someone waiting in the drive thru line of the closest Wendys because of my bitterness.  Lucky for me my brother and sis-in-law bought me the ultimate cookbook  for non-cookers, such as myself.  Don't get me wrong, I used to enjoy cooking, but it took so darn LOOOONG.  I'm looking for instant gratification here...Not waiting 1.5 hours for a casserole to cook after it took me 45 minutes to put it together. All I got was a backache and a bad attitude from all that preparation and how it took 10 minutes for everyone to gorge themselves.  

So I just went waaay of subject.  Like if the subject was Massachusetts?  I'm in California..Well, maybe not that far. North Dakota or something.

So I made these FABULOUS cupcakes for my son's preschool Valentine's Day celebration:

Behold the artistry

 

Yes.  They were taken with my phone, so not so great pics...Hey, I was in the car!

I am pretty darn proud of these little delectable treats.  And, no, they are NOT gluten free.  Wanna know why?    Because I made a DELICIOUS chocolate cake (gluten free) with velvet frosting this past weekend that was probably the equivalent of eating a stick of butter when you ate a piece. And guess what?!?! There were LEFTOVERS.  Guess who was up in the middle of the night stuffing her face?  

For my other reason, my dad's birthday is this next weekend and I am making him his birthday cake (gluten free), so I am going to have to eat some (such a cross to bear, I know).  So my thought process behind the cupcakes and the remaining batter that I made into a cake?  Simple: I CAN'T EAT IT.  No getting up in the middle of the night to partake in soft billowy cakeness and buttery cream cheese frosting.  I'm CUT OFF.  I cut myself OFF. 

I'm genius.  

Only, I have to stare as my family eats the cake one piece at a time.  OH THE PAIN!

Un-Drunk Text

This is a text I read at 9am when I woke up this morning...I know, I know. I am usually up and at 'em quite a bit earlier, but I have been little Miss Sicky Sickerson with pneumonia.  Hence, the sleeping in until I hear the rustling in the kid's beds.

This text was sent to me at 7:30am by my husband (why he thinks I would be up in this condition? I will never know.): 

"Actress britney murphy died. what the........?" (I quote exactly)

Of course I already knew this because I checked the internet before I went to bed last night and it was ALL OVER the media.

This is the text he received back: "ithey are saing caediab seesric...whixh is perbablt overdose" (I quote exactly)

Yep.  When people say "Don't drunk text" it doesn't apply to me...The saying "Don't text before caffeine" makes SO much more sense.

My husband text me back to say that he was "LOL LOL"..So I looked back at my text..

"Leave me alone. I just woke up". (I quote exactly)

Bunnies Bunnies Everywhere

So the saying goes something like this "They are multiplying like rabbits." Well, it seems in my house the saying is true (not counting the many stuffed animals collecting dust mites in my basement.)  These are "boo-boo babies.  Made to use when kids fall and get hurt, making the experience oh-so enjoyable. (If this were AT ALL possible..And who wants to get blood on this suckers anyways? I'm ready to use them as centerpieces!) Behold:

And yet again, behold (although I bought these on my own volition, possibly under the peer pressure of the "boo-boo bunnies")

  Maybe I'm on a "bunny kick"....And we ALL KNOW there are not little bunnies on the way.

Feeling Grinchy

Things that have happened to me today: 1. Went to to a Ri-DONK-u-lous "breakfast with Father Christmas" where he entered the room playing bagpipes, scaring my children bat crazy. And they charged me for a full $12.99 breakfast where I ate nothing because of my celiac disease. And they charged full price for my 2 year old. How much do they think that she can put away? I think it's discrimination. I would have caused a scene, but since I have no voice.... 2. Broke 2 glass Christmas ornaments in my children's presence. My oh my, the self control it took to not use four letter words ( at least whisper them). 3. Fell down my cellar stairs (5 of them and landing on the bottom which is pure concrete), and landed on my knee and ankle. Oh the PAIN. And I could not scream, so my 3 year old saw me and went running to my husband "MOMMY JUST FALLED DADDY!" great, I thought, as I rocked myself in the fetal position. 4. 2 year old (Cam BAM) smashed to smithereens a snow globe. Do you even know how hard it is to get glitter up from a kitchen floor? I dare you to try. And the day is only half over.

Can't wait for what is to come.