Archive for the ‘“Help!”’ Category

Listen. I know, Flashing Cursor. I realize I’ve been MIA from this blog for months. I am aware I used to take great pleasure in writing about all the ways my children outsmart me on a daily basis. All the ways they made me feel so loved and then so completely useless and then wait, nope, there’s the love again~ often in one breath. After briefly considering canceling my hosting when it came up for renewal a month ago, I decided I would give it another year and see what I had left in me for this space. I really don’t know. But for now, I am here and I promise not to make any promises about how often I’ll check in, because that seems to just guarantee I’ll never write again.

So this is what I can tell you now… In less than 2 hours, my two giant children will join the household for the summer. This is maybe a little scary and maybe a little awesome. I like having all my chicks with me for the most part. I love lazy days, jammies til noon, lunch when…ever, beach and park trips, art supplies strewn about the table and intricate figurine set-ups taking over my gardens. It makes me smile, it makes me sigh. It makes me miss being a kid.

Like all parents, I don’t enjoy the whining, tattling or the incessant arguing but unfortunately, it comes with the territory of multiple kids. We’ll get through, I know, but I definitely don’t have to be excited about it. Mostly I am nervous about Rowan’s insane dance schedule over the next two weeks. She has summer dance and nationals practice that leaves her at the studio from 10:45- 5:30 or later most nights. Then I have to kiss my little guy’s sweet cheeks enough to last me 9 whole days without him while we’re in Florida. {Clearly I did NOT think this through. I’m already panicking and searching for plane tickets for him, shhhhh don’t tell Bill. He’ll think it’s funny when Ez shows up in my carry-on, right?} The longest I’ve been away from Ezra is overnight. I’m legit freaking out right now.

But! If we can make it through June, and the first 4 days of July, we’ll be in the clear to laze around and enjoy Summer at our new house. It seems amazing to me that I didn’t write about such a huge life change when I have multiple {really, like DOZENS} of posts devoted to poop on this blog. I wish I could detail the simultaneously dawn-out saga/whirlwind this whole process has been, but the most important thing to know is that we are all so very, extremely happy to be in a beautiful new home that is just the perfect fit for us. Hopefully more on that to come {if I can get my shit together, so again, no promises}.

For now, I will leave you with these two…

Who completely OWNED 2nd grade and Kindergarten.. with nary a yellow or red light between the two for an ENTIRE year, like WHOA.

Who completely OWNED 2nd grade and Kindergarten, with nary a yellow or red light between the two for an ENTIRE year, like WHOA. So proud of them!

And these two, who melt my heart, pretty much on a daily basis…

I think lucky is the word I'm looking for. Yep.

I think lucky is the word I’m looking for. Yep.


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So! Look who learned a new skill while I was cleaning off his high chair after lunch! I don’t want to be all *NEWSFLASH* Against all odds, small child hoists himself up by his boot {one moccasin} straps to conquer monstrous living room furniture in unforgiving conditions... But, well, I’m sort of gonna be like that…

This wouldn’t be a big deal if he knew how to correctly dismount the couch when it was time. When Ezra is on my bed with me he knows to slither down the side feet first but something about the couch just screams HEAD FIRST! to him which yields unpleasant results. He’ll learn. This little guy is a smartypants to the first degree but in the meantime… it’s gonna be a bruise filled few weeks. I’m thinking of just lining the floor with pillows until he turns three.

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Ezra didn’t quite know what to make of the mittens I put over his chubby little fingers before we headed out for a short walk around the neighborhood this afternoon. After unsuccessfully trying to peel them off his hands, which went something like this: “The hell? Get this thing off of my grabbing thingy!” Goes to grab and pull the mitten off. “WHAT? There’s one on this grabbing thingy too! HOW IS A MAN SUPPOSED TO GRAB STUFF?! Huh… I can still knock shit over pretty effectively. Alright, we’re cool.”

So he gave up trying to peel them off and, confused with what to do with his hands, just sort of held them limply out in front of himself for the remainder of the walk:


I might have felt bad but this is the same child who, after I lovingly changed, read and snuggled him gently in his crib for his nap after a rough night of sleep, proceeded to meow for 45 minutes. That’s right. MEOW. As in:

Ezra: Mroooooooowwwwww… Mrrrrrroooooooooow… Meeeeeeeeooooooooowwww… MEEEOOOOOOWWWWWPPPPP

Me, sneaking into the room, laying him back down and covering him up: It’s nappy time, mister. Shhhhhh…

Ezra: Mrooowww! Meeeeooowwww!

Me: Go to sleep, Ezra.

Ezra: Meeowwwwp?

And on, and on and on. So yeah, the mittens brought about a small sense of justice because I’m a horrible human being. But we already knew that.


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Two Septembers ago, in preparation for baby Ezra, we switched rooms with the kids, reclaiming the master bedroom for our own so we could share it with the baby and all the accompanying baby paraphernalia. *Backstory!: We gave Rowan and Keaton the master bedroom, which takes up most of our third floor, in May of 2009. It was awesome because it contained all the small people and their vast amount of toys upstairs, leaving the main floor to Bill and I who require a heck of a lot less brightly colored plastic crap to survive. I cannot tell you how much I liked this set-up, but alas. There was no way to fit the baby in the downstairs room with us so moving back upstairs was really the only choice we had as the association frowns on building outbuildings or putting a nursery on the roof. I did briefly consider getting an old VW van to outfit as a make-shift nursery in the garage but then I thought Child Protective Services might take issue with that. So! We preformed the great room swap once again and it all worked out okay. Since we plan to move in 2014 I thought we would all just stay put but sharing a room with a toddler who is ready to strike out on his own {what? He totally is. He told me so… with a very meaningful screech} was wearing on Bill and I. His schedule is predictable and he sleeps through the night so we weighed that against all the work the room switch would take and we decided that we should just tough it out. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, last week some asshole bee flew into my bonnet and, well, we’re going for it… bunking all three kids together upstairs so we can escape from them thoroughly every night at bedtime MUAHHAHAHAHA.

Okay, Internet, here is the play-by-play. I’ll either be mostly dead or really, really drunk by the end of today…

11:09 After waffling back and forth we decide it’s go time. Bill goes to the liquor store {NECESSARY}, I start work on the kids’ bookshelf.

11:21 Why do my kids have so many goddamn books? Who needs this many books? Reading is so overrated.

11:44 Bookshelf done! Reward: Baily’s in mah coffee.



12:24: Break for lunch. Pray to enter some sort of time-warp/worm-hole where this is all over.

1:11: Ezra is up from his nap. We can now play the “keep the baby out of ALL the things game”.

1:16: Begin upstairs clean and dismantle.

1:55 Time to go pick Rowan up from dance, SEE YOU SUCKERS!

2:50 Back from dance. Brian is here helping carry beds and dressers up two flights of stairs. Sorry we suck so much Uncle Brian!

3:35 It has been determined that trying to switch around 70% of your house with three small people whining at you at every turn is not going so well.

3:50 Bill departs with boy children to dump them at grandma and grandpa’s.

3:51 I depart with girl child to dump her at a friends for an overnight.

4:12 God it is gloriously quiet in here.

4:14 Now where did that Baily’s go…

4:23 Bill figures out how to wedge the train table under the bunk bed clearing out loft space. We marvel at his genius.

4:26 Oh shit, there’s a lot of crap under there. I quit marveling at his genius.

5:03 Sit down to roast dinner that’s been cooking in the crock pot all day.

5:13 Lose will to do anything other than digest while drinking beer.

5:17 Back at it. Go time.

5:32 Do all the things


5:53 Up the stairs

5:54 Down the stairs

5:55 Up the stairs

5:56 Down the stairs

5:57 Up the Stairs

5:58 Down the Stairs

5:59 Place beer at top railing as incentive to keep climbing up and down all these fucking stairs.

6:00 Sweet! Beer! This was a super awesome idea.

6:40 Bill departs to bring boy spawn home.

6:58 Okay. Kids’ bedroom put back together. It’s just like the nursery in Peter Pan only less British and with more Legos.

7:09 Boys home. New bedtime routine attempted.

7:33 Ezra goes down, seemingly smoothly in his new corner of the room.

7:50 Bill reads Keaton a story while Ezra falls good and asleep.

8:09 Successfully sneak Keaton into room and…


8:09 WAIT! I just had a great idea! I bet we could fit my desk in our room now! Free up loft space!

8:10 Bill cries angry tears of defeat and sorrow.

8:11 Oh, couch. I barely knew ye.

8:12 Bill cleans off the desk, swears a bunch and we carry it down.

8:22 I smile and give him a big fat wet one right on the lips.

8:25 I sit down and finish this post in my baby free room at my very own writing desk.

{Tomorrow? Closet and bathroom swap. Good thing we have leftover Baily’s.}

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Listen, I know we already all knew this but my idiot-game has upped itself to new heights. Last night I did something so colossally stupid, something I one hundred and fifty (thousand!} percent knew would destroy me but I did it anyway. I watched The Conjuring. Internet, do NOT watch this movie, it is goddamn terrifying. {Especially if you’re me.  If you’re not me and are a grown-up who learned somewhere along the way to separate fact from fiction then you’re probably fine.}

Over the years, Bill and I have talked a lot about what our own personal brand of ohshitImterrified fear is when it comes to the horror genre and I have to say we are on complete opposite sides of the spectrum. Bill’s number one supernatural fear is zombies and he gets pretty freaked out by a monster flick. {But seriously the man can sleep under any and all circumstances so while it might freak him out as he watches, he forgets about it completely somewhere around 10 minutes after it’s over.} And listen, I get it. When the makeup and special effects are done right, I can see that a zombie might be moderately scary, but jesus they just move soooo sloooow and a majority of the time they’re missing the correct limbs to, you know, catch you or grab you with and I actually find it fairly comical instead of disturbing when they are so horribly disfigured they’re barely recognizable as something that might have once been human. With The Walking Dead {which I like to refer to as The Walking Sexists but I’ll admit is killing it this season} and the subsequent influx of zombie flicks over the last 10 years, I don’t know, I feel sort of immune and don’t get super scared by them.

The only movie from the monster genre that has stayed with me and truly scared me to the core was the TV mini-series of Stephen King’s Silver Bullet. This probably has less to do with how frightening it actually is {I really don’t know how it holds up, I will never watch that sucker again} and more to do with the fact that I watched it when I was 7 years old. I was across the street at the 12 year old neighbor girl’s house. I think she was probably charged with “watching me” in a Mother’s Helper sort of way that afternoon and she took her job very seriously by making me Spaghettio’s and setting me up in her family room with a movie! Sounds nice, huh? Until she picked out Silver Bullet. I don’t know how strongly I can emphasize that this is NOT an appropriate movie for an 7 year old, especially one that has had a recurring nightmare from 4 years old on about a werewolf that terrorizes her neighborhood. I was completely warped from watching it, and more than 25 years later I can still picture the fog overlaying the ground and the people of the town being dragged under it and {presumably} ripped limb from limb off camera and ohmygod let’s not talk about this anymore.

Overall though, my fear is definitely more strongly rooted in the haunted house, possession type story lines so The Conjuring was probably the absolute dumbest movie I ever could have watched because not only is it based on a true story, it contains a haunted house and a demonic witch who possesses mothers who are then forced to do horrible things to their children. My fascination/fear of these movies started at 14 when I watched Amityville: The Possession. I’m sure I watched the original Amityville movie at some point but it didn’t terrify me as much as the sequel did and for years after I would wake up paralyzed with the fear that one of my possessed family members would enter my room with a shotgun and take us all out. Lovely thought, I know. To be clear none of my un-possessed family members would most likely ever do this but 3:15am doesn’t always lend itself to rational thinking.

My imagination obviously tends to be on the more active side but as I’ve grown into a real-live adult, my fearful reaction to most scary movies has definitely dulled. After all, a sugared-up toddler who won’t nap or a colicky baby that wakes up 10 times a night are WAY WAY WAY more frightening than any ghost or demon could ever be. I’ve also gotten pretty good at being able to turn off my imagination and/or thoughts before they spiral out of control and go from “wow, that was a pretty messed up FICTIONAL movie” to waking up in the middle of the night paralyzed with terror, absolutely SURE there is a possessed witch hovering six inches above my face as I’m completely paralyzed in my bed in the black room. Until last night that is!

The whole movie I was a mess. Bill kept saying “how bout we turn it off, dummy” when for the 6th time I balled myself in the corner of the couch with my hands literally covering my eyes like a 3 year old. “No! Then I won’t know how they got rid of her! It will be worse!” After I made him pause it 2-3 times so I could remind myself to blink and breath, he had lost pretty much all patience with me but we made it to the end. And *spoiler alert* at least it didn’t pull one of those dick moves that the horror genre is so fond of that let you believe they resolved whatever horrible occurence had happened and then the final scene is all HA! Just kidding! EVERYONE’S STILL SCREWED. It was a relatively happy ending, if you don’t account for all the hundreds of thousands of dollars in therapy those characters will have to pay to get over that awfulness.

I really should just not be allowed to watch this crap. And for years I stayed away from it because I knew I couldn’t handle it. I think it was after The Ring came out and I didn’t sleep barely at all for a week straight that I quit horror all together for a few years but after a while I dipped back in and then October rolls around and I get caught up in Jezebel’s annual true scary story post which inevitably leads me to scroll through Rotten Tomatoes to see what the year had to offer in scary movies. I think this one cured me of any need to watch something this horrifying… at least until next year.

These are my more recent I Am Never Watching This Shit Again movies: Silent Hill, Evil Dead {remake, I’ve never seen the original} and Sinister. But honestly, The Conjuring takes the flippin’ cake. A big part of this might be because I’m a little OCD about time, so much so, that I can’t wear a watch because I check it obsessively so movies where something bad happens at a specific time each night, really mess with me on a whole different level. I spent all night so tense, barely sleeping and afraid to look at my clock. When I did nod off Bill said I kept jerking and gasping in my sleep. I am a total mess today and am already scared to go to bed tonight and it’s only 1pm. So yeah. Dumb. So, so dumb.

{When I’m ready to jump back in to scary movies, because let’s face it, I just don’t learn, I’ll watch my go-to pallet cleanser, Cabin in the Woods, which is pretty much the best horror/anti-horror/comedy movie ever made, God Bless you, Joss Whedon.}

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And this is just about how Fawksey and I feel about this week. Quit judging us, Internet.

Whatever, I’m gonna go get a refill from the box. {THAT’S RIGHT I SAID BOX.} G’night.

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Seriously. Not one thing of substance. Bill and I talked about how we were operating with such choppy, low amounts of sleep and we agreed that we were okay as long as we didn’t acknowledge how much sleep we’ve lost the last 5 weeks~ equating it with the whole Don’t Look Down mentality. Bill confessed he had started to look down over a week ago and Internet? I’m looking down right now and it is not a pretty sight.

So here, have some Adorable Baby while I stare off at the wall trying to remember how to spell my own name…

Good thing these cheeks make it all worth it, huh?

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