Saturday, January 26, 2013

Private parts.

AJ: "Mom, will you lay with me before I go to sleep?"

Me: "Of course, buddy."

We climb in to his bed.  Normally, we use this time to talk about our day, hockey, school, Pokemon, video games, cool new apps...if I only I knew the turn our conversation would take tonight.

AJ: "You know, it's always the Daddy who makes the baby."

Me: "Um.  Really?"

AJ: "Yep.  But how does he do it?  How does a daddy make a baby so it gets to the mom's tummy?"

At this point, I'm thinking it's best that I pretend I'm asleep.  So I start to fake-snore.

AJ: "MOM!  YOU ARE NOT SLEEPING!  I want to know how the daddy makes the baby!"


Me: "AJ, it takes a daddy AND a mommy to make a baby.  The daddy doesn't do it by himself."

AJ: "Oh, he does."

Me: "Trust me, dude.  He doesn't."

AJ: "Well, then, how?"

Jesus Murphy, where the hell is Shawn when I need him!?!  Why is he NEVER around when these questions are randomly tossed out???

Me: "Um.  Well, there's a special kind of loving that mommies and daddies do together, that make a baby.  It starts out a teeny tiny little dot and grows into a baby in the mom's tummy.  That's why her belly always gets so fat."

AJ: "And I know the babies look weird when they're in there."  Touche, kid.  They totally do.  He continues: "Animals give birth, you know."

Not sure where he learned the term "give birth".  But whatever.

Me: "People do too, buddy, that's how the baby gets out."

AJ: "But when animals give birth, the baby comes out of the mom's butt."

Oh for God's sake.  I better clarify this before he scares his sister into severe constipation by telling her she might poop out a baby one day.


AJ: "Well, not exactly her butt.  It comes out of her private parts, and there is A LOT of blood!"

OK, never mind, clarification not needed, he's clearly schooled in the subject.  And he's not finished yet:  "It's a good thing people babies don't come out of private parts.  They come out of tummies, and that is NOT a private part."

Then, as quick as it all started and before I could think of what to say, the conversation was over.  He said he was tired of talking and fell asleep in about two seconds.

And I quietly left his bed, thankful that I had c-sections and have never had the need to explain that babies sometimes come out of va-jay-jays.


Hopefully it's another 5 years before this topic comes up again.

I need a glass of wine.

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Wah, wah, wah.

You ever have those times when you're like, ugh, oh my God, my life sucks, I'm so busy, there's not enough time in the day, my kids are being jerks, this house is a mess, my husband doesn't help me, I'm so fat, blah blah blah...

I am SO in the midst of one of those right now.

I've mentioned my lack of the sympathy gene before, and the truth is, that extends to myself too.  I'm not one to sit around and feel sorry for myself for long.  So, I know that I need to pick myself up, dust myself off, and get the F over it.

But before I do that, I am going to bitch about it to you for awhile.  You're welcome.

School is BANANAS right now.  Absolutely mother effing bananas.  Classes three days a week, then two full days of practicum.  Classes are busy and only going to get busier with projects and exams on the horizon.  My two days of practicum have been a hugely eye opening experience - it's been a huge learning curve for me.  It's work.  And my school schedule does not allow me to be at my kids' school nearly as much as I'd like, and I have to miss one of  my son's twice-weekly hockey practices because of class, and I don't have as much of my own social time as I would normally like, and I do feel like I'm missing out.

I am SUCH a fat mess right now that I want to take my fancy little bathroom scale and throw it through a window.  I am so pissed off at that thing.  THE NUMBER NEVER CHANGES.  What the hell, scale??   Remember that time we used to be friends?  And I could take a couple detox days where all I consumed was fruit, water and Hydroxycut and you would drop by like, 5 pounds just like that?  WHAT HAPPENED TO THOSE DAYS!?  Is it because I'm getting old?  Is it because sometimes I sneak into McDonalds, or eat the leftovers out of my kids lunches?  Is it because I started eating vegetables too late in life so you are punishing me?  Or are you just broken?  Need new batteries?  Come on, scale.  Tell me what's wrong.  Let's be friends again!

Home life is crazy town.  I am so busy with school, and so damn tired by the end of the week, that keeping up with laundry and housework is becoming a bit of a struggle.  I have found the good sense to at least start meal planning, so we're not having cereal three nights a week like we did last semester, but this weekend I'll be lucky to get away with *only* six loads of laundry.  Sigh.

And now, for the "getting the F over it" part...a little perspective:

There are only 85 days left in my semester, and that's it - then I will be finished school.

The things I am learning in my practicum will be priceless when it comes to getting a job.

When the semester finishes, I will still have two and a half months to be at my kids school as much as I want.  And you know what?  I'm actually OK with having to sit in a freezing cold hockey arena to watch a bunch of 6-year-olds "play hockey" only once a week instead of twice.

I might not have a lot of social time right now, but my friends are amazing.  They have been so supportive and so helpful with everything, whether it's looking after my kids when I'm at school, or taking them off my hands for a few hours so I can study, or even mixing me a couple vodka sodas when I show up at their houses on a Friday afternoon after a totally insane week.

I am a size 8.  Last I checked, that hardly qualifies as a "fat mess."  And guess what: I'll never stop eating at McDonalds.  Never.  So suck it, scale.

I have time to sit and update this blog - so obviously the laundry mountain isn't worrying me THAT much.

My husband is a pretty good dude.  He picks up the slack when I need him to (even if he has no concept of "sticking to the list" when I send him to the grocery store).

My kids are bright, healthy, happy, well-adjusted little beings.

I am very, very lucky.

Sometimes, I just need to remind myself of that.

Friday, January 4, 2013

Veggie Tales.

It's a new year, it's resolution time, and dammit, I'm going to make my family (and myself) eat some vegetables if it kills me.

This is hard.  Like REALLY hard.  You have no idea.  I hate vegetables.  I'm not sure why they exist.  Yuck, yuck, yuck.  Unless is something steamed that I can then use as a vessel for as much melted Velveeta as I can fit on my plate, I ain't interested.  Raw veggies - no.  Cooked veggies - HELL no.  Salad - well, OK, maybe, but it has to have a LOT of Ranch dressing on it, or be one of those super fattening awesome salads that have like candied nuts and cranberries and avocado and a ton of feta cheese in them.

Now, my husband is a tiny bit better than me when it comes to veggies, but since the kids and I hate them, I rarely make them with our dinner, and he does not complain about it - so it's safe to say, our vegetable consumption has declined considerably in the last year.  So, during the last week of December, I told my family that every night starting January 1, we would be eating at least one vegetable with our supper.

Mackenzie cried.  Like actually CRIED.  Then she refused to speak of it in any way.  Whenever I would say something like, "OK, I'm off to the grocery store, what kind of veggie do you want to try?" she would stare at me blankly, close her mouth, make a zipping motion over it, and cover her ears.


Well, yes.  She IS mine, after all.

Here's how it's gone so far:

January 1, we went to my parents house for dinner.  The kids declared that whenever we have dinner at Grandma's, the veggie rule does not apply.  Grandma agreed fully while on her way to get AJ his second bowl of Froot Loops.  Shawn and I decided, well if THEY don't have to eat them, then neither do we!  So, thanks, Mom.  That was super helpful.  Day 1: FAIL.

January 2, we had a little something I like to call "Crap From The Fridge" for dinner.  I love having Crap From The Fridge (sometimes also called Crap From The Freezer).  We had had a New Years Eve party, so there were a lot of leftovers, and the mission that night was to get rid of it all.  Crap From The Fridge is a mission to kind of clean out the fridge, so it means I take everything out, heat it up as necessary, and put it all out like a smorgasbord on the dining room table, and we pick and choose what we want.  New Years leftovers included a lot of raw veggies, so everyone had quite a big selection of what they could try.  AJ did well - he had some orange pepper, and like 9 baby carrots.  Mackenzie, on the other hand, managed to choke down one baby carrot (the tiniest one she could fish out of the bag), which she covered in Ranch and gagged her way through with tears in her eyes.  Honestly, you'd have thought it was a baby carrot covered in baby poop by the way she was gagging and choking and carrying on.  Day 2: Meh.  Good for AJ.  Not good for Kenz.

January 3, they got yet another reprieve, as we had the much loved Breakfast For Supper.  Veggies don't really go with breakfast, so I let them each have a banana instead.  Day 3: FAIL (but that was my fault.)

I'm only 1 for 3.  Gotta balance that out tonight.  This resolution is not going well, and it's only Day 4!