Thursday, November 18, 2010

Headed to the Farm

or at least the market.  This morning is the last week that the farmers market will be outdoor.  I have to go today to find out the new secret winter location.  it's very cloak and dagger vegetable buying.  I should wear a trenchcoat and a silly hat.

I am also on the hunt for a heritage turkey.  Why is this so hard to find in the middle of farm country here?  And the cost.  Oh lord, $10/lb is a lot for a bird.  Considering Shoprite is giving the bastards away.  I ordered one last year and had it delivered to the grocery store, but I had to schlepp across the river.  And now I can't remember what farm I got it from.  Ugh.

It may have just dawned on me that Thanksgiving is a week from today.  I got off easy this year with only pies and sweet potatoes to make.  and a turkey to procure.  Which is going so well.

maybe I can get a lead at the farmer's market.  wonder if my detective disguise will be helpful in that arena. I'm not sure they remember who I am since I am sans children on Thursday mornings now.  Not that I'm complaining.

Now I have to go and wake them up.  Well, wake Z up.  C has been trying to do the same thing for the past 20 min and it doesn't sound too successful.  I so love the moaning and protesting that comes from sleepy 3 yo.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Awesome evening... and then the screaming

Here's an evening that exemplifies the age of 3.  and the problems of having two children who are the same age.

Yesterday after naptime (which is our typically worst time of day... they are still tired and want nothing more than to lump on the sofa and gorge themselves on Spectacular Spiderman on Netflix) I took the playdough out and got them started making people and animals and food out of playdough.

Then I started dinner while they played in the kitchen.  Z helped me make 'sushi' rolls with white rice and julienned vegis.  C continued to play with the dough and allowed Z to make her a roll.  Then we sat at the table and ate sushi and drank tea out of the fancy china teacups and had an awesome dinner.

After dinner, while I did the dishes, the girls played an insane game where they took turns being a snake on the floor and their sister's job was to sit on their back and keep them from slithering.  Whatever, no one got hurt and they laughed hysterically.  And I got to clean up the kitchen.

Finally I set up the record player and had them listen to a recorded read-a-long book (yes they were mine and no, I never throw anything out) while they had a glass of milk and a cookie for desert.  And that's where the utopia ended.

C is OBSESSED with the change she keeps in her little change purse.  I tell her 50-teen (her words) times a day to put the money back in her purse.  That it is not a toy and she can't play with money all around the house.  I'm trying to impress upon her that it has some sort of value.  and she understands that she can use the money to buy something at the store.  But she just. doesn't. listen. at. all.  She's one of those kids who just humors you and lives in her own little world where she is queen and you are an annoying noise to be tolerated temporarily until you give in and go away.  And I am the biggest culprit of this.  I am the High Holy Mother of Empty Threats.  I came back into the room after filling up the bathtub and she had change all over the couch and floor.  So I took it and put it someplace she couldn't reach it.  I explained she could have it back tomorrow, but that she didn't listen to what I had already asked her many many times to do.

And she screamed for over an hour.  Solid.  through bathtime (she wouldn't get in the tub and I had to wrestle her on the bathroom floor to wash her up) through putting pjs on.  Through book reading. And into singing with the lights off. 

Z on the other hand, listened to the end of her record, turned the player off. came up the stairs with her blankie, got in the tub, washed her hair, brushed her teeth, peed on the potty, put on her pjs and sat in bed listening to stories and songs.  The only time she got upset was when C tried to climb over the baby gate at the top of the stairs and Z was afraid (as was I) that she would topple over it and fall down the stairs head first.

So in an effort to be fair to Z, I basically had to ignore C's freakout.  Which is not the best way to handle it for her.  C isn't the kind of kid who will wind down on her own.  She needs to be physically restrained and almost shaken out of it.  Like in the old movies where you slap the woman out of her hysterics.  But the choices are ignore it and let it escalate and continue for longer than it needs to go on, or ignore the kid who's being good and basically punish her for her sister's freakout.

Aren't these awesome choices?  Last night I picked Z.  Most of the time I don't.  She was owed a night.  And up until around 6:45 we had an awesome day.  In retrospect, it's probably the chocolate milk and cookie that's setting C off at night.  I'll have to ponder a way around that part of the evening routine...

Friday, November 05, 2010

Friday art

squirrel (complete with snack) By: Z
"Sammy (with eyelashes)" by:C

Linen/Cat closet

Thursday, November 04, 2010

Why I love my husband

I woke up at 4 this morning full of vitriol. I was angry. I was hurt. There was a cat wedged in between my feet (well, that part just added to the waking up) and I wrote a letter. A long letter. A long over due letter to my father. And I wanted to post it on facebook.

Instead I decided to use a forum where I usually complain about my kids to talk about H. In bullet form because I only have 7 minutes before I have to wake up the screamies for school.

Here are all the reason why I love Howie:

1. He makes me coffee every morning before he leaves
2. He doesn't wake me up, just brews the coffee and lets me sleep.
3. He doesn't even drink coffee in the morning
4. I can leave him home all day with the kids and he can manage to feed them, entertain them and work
5. Even if the house looks like a tornado ripped through it when I get home, by the time I get up in the morning, it's spotless
6. He puts whatever soggy mess he finds in the washing machine into the dryer. Even if I don't tell him there's clothes down there
7. He taught the girls how to play jenga, bowling on the Wii, and a somewhat disproportionate love of comic books
8. He will watch whatever bizarre disturbing grisly murder show I put on the television and not complain.
9. He's put up with me. all of me. for 10 years.
10. He keeps me from being exorbitantly stupid.

So instead of plastering the internet with my two page, 9pt font, single spaced missive of hatred, i leave you instead with this man. Who carried a plastic pumpkin trick-or-treating because the girls didn't want him to be left out.

Monday, October 04, 2010

MOTY Award time, yet again

the best time of day is that small window of naptime before the annoying kids next door get home from school. thankfully today it's raining and so the ear piercing screams of Florence (yes, Florence. the BOY who lives next door) will not end naptime prematurely or cause me to slam out the front door and ask him who exactly is murdering him. even though I secretly wish someone would.

oh, that's not even the worst thing I've said (or even thought) this weekend. The highlight film includes such gems as telling Z that I couldn't care less if she ate lunch or starved to death and yesterday's epic fail of me informing C that she is systematically ruining my life. starting in utero.

So, if anyone would like to pass on their mother of the year award statue, I'll be waiting patiently.

Friday, October 01, 2010

No Rest for the Weary: Why I don't have 3 children

too tired for sentences. here are fragments and bullets:

H threw back out last weekend re-doing master bathroom

bathroom has many many holes in the wall

also when you turn the tub on the shower head sprays you in the face. always

the overflow from this tub may or may not drip into my basement. at some point. much like the ticking time bomb of a toilet we had upstairs, however, this time I am not expecting poop to flood my dining room. so, small improvement there.

when you do shower, the hot water runs out in under 10min.

both my girls have head colds and copious snot and coughing

i sent them to school anyway. i'm that bitch

H has been in bed since monday. he only arises to whip children into a frenzy with spiderman game for the Wii. which C rocks at. don't worry, it's only rated T. Z does NOT like the fire

Sam the furry fucknut decided the best way to get my attention at 5am is wake Z up by banging on their bedroom door.

She then noticed she had peed her diaper. like she's done everynight for the past 3 and 1/2 years

This required a trip to the potty so she could swing her feet and have Sam apologize for waking her by biting my leg

and then a new diaper

without waking C

10min after i got back in my own bed, Sam the bastardly began to cry at the basement door
apparently he is incapable of using the kitty door before sunrise and also had to pee on the potty

after falling back asleep I had charming nightmare of losing my children in an amusement park because I had too many bags to gather when exiting the tram

coffee pot went off. followed by alarm. which H turned off. not snooze. just off.

if he doesn't go to work on monday i will be seeking legal representation.

now i must go and finish my chores and daily to do list so that I can wake the children, dress them, feed them, leave a note for the sitter... who is still coming even though H is here and wait for the conversation with my mother about what is wrong with my life when she shows up here at 3 to relieve the sitter and finds H in a cocoon of apple hardware ensconced in the bedroom.

all of this makes me ponder why i didn't just have them remove my uterus. instead of my brain.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Home Alone

I sent the girls to grandma's for the weekend so H and I could finish the reno on the downstairs bathroom and also so I could help and sell at the twin club tag sale.

so now I am home alone on a friday night in my pjs at 8:30. Did I mention I was alone? H is not home yet and won't be for another hour or so and I have not a soul to go out with as all my friends these days are similarly ensconced in pjs while their kids are asleep. Which makes me think....

what the hell did I do with all my free time before I had kids? I mean I had oodles of time to do absolutely nothing. and I didn't have to sit around my house tiptoeing while little people slept. i could watch TV loudly and drink.

Which is mostly what I am doing now. the drinking. but it's sad to drink alone in your pjs on a friday night. at 8:30. totally silent except for the laptop keys clicking. They might as well be home.

sigh. what has become of me?

Friday, July 30, 2010

The Mommy Wars: Vitriol Edition

This is a post that's been rolling around in my head for a day or so now, so I'm just going to put it out there all stream of consciousness like...

I think I might be some sort of mommy-aberration. Let me explain that a little.

I read. a lot. anything I can get my hands on. newspapers, magazines, books, blogs, cereal boxes. It's got words, i read it. can't help myself. So in my reading travels, I read a lot of mom-blogs. Some are twin mom specific, some are just parenting stuff. and what I want to know is, are they all full of crap, or am I some sort of freak of nature?

I don't want to spend 24/7 with my kids. they get on my nerves. they whine. a lot. the sound of children, especially mine, whining makes me want to get a shotgun and blow my face off. Don't get me wrong. My girls are funny and fun to play with. and when they are not hungry/ tired/ too hot/ too cold/ bored/ not overstimulated... etc they are awesome. But in reality, that is about 20 min in total each day. Ok, maybe I'm exaggerating, maybe it's really like an hour of total time. That means that there are roughly 9 hours of each blessed day that I want to rip my own ears off and eat them.

So, you say, get out more, hire a babysitter, do something for YOU. that sounds awesome. like rock on, dude! but seriously, let me explain what the fall-out from a night out does for me. I won't even touch on the hangover that would invariably occur from the appalling amount of alcohol I would need to consume to begin. I will only talk about having to surgically remove both children from my legs this morning and throw them into the living room, run to the door and slam it in their faces so that I could leave for work this morning. Why, you ask? I'm not entirely sure, but I'll hazard a guess it'd be because I had the audacity to go out after work on Wednesday and not get home in time to tuck them in. So all day yesterday I had C crawling up my leg doing her best to re-implant in my uterus and today they both screamed enough to make themselves choke and gag because I was, gasp, leaving them with the babysitter. The same one they've had since they were 7 months old.

They are going to preschool in the fall. I can only imagine how fantabulistic that's going to be. Not to change the subject entirely, but I also can't seem to fathom the idea of 'playdates' and the guilt some people apparently have about whether or not their preschooler has enough friends. They are 3. How many of you still speak to or even remember your preschool friends? Did you have any friends? are you now a social pariah? We didn't have playdates. I had a sibling. he was 3 1/2 years younger. and a boy. and we played together! I know, the horror! how could my mother have been so cruel? playdates are a way for mom's to get together and let their kids run amok so that you, the mother, have someone to commiserate with and you don't stick your head in the oven when roasting a chicken. Don't get me wrong, that's an important reason to schedule a 'playdate'. But don't for one minute think that your child's future happiness hangs in the balance.

I really think we all need to get over ourselves. I can't stand feeling like their entire future rides on my shoulders. Start those flashcards now, or your kids will be flippin' burgers and living with you at 38. And make sure you get in enough orchestrated, carefully un-constructed 'playdates' so you don't wind up chatting it up with barbara walters about what it's like raising sociopaths. And absolutely never ever lose your cool and scream like the mother f-ing banshee or you'll wind up footing the therapy bill for the attachment disorder that explains your adult-child's inability to form a lasting relationship. Which is really the reason why they are flipping those burgers and living with you at 38. It's all your fault. You didn't love them enough.

Let me clue you in... we ALL have issues. It isn't necessary mom's fault. and it certainly isn't because she served you pancakes for dinner. and burned them. twice.

Monday, July 26, 2010

Dear Internets,
Let me tell you how awesome my morning has been. no really. I'm being sincere. No, i haven't been body snatched... but the girls may have been.

Let's start at the beginning:

I went upstairs to get them up and when I opened the door, they both smiled at me and asked if it was 'just plain old mommy day' Fearing the worst, I braced myself and said it was Monday and Daddy had gone to work. no one cried. they even let me take their diapers and pj pants off. They collected which toys they wanted to bring down stairs and came down the steps.

I offered to make breakfast, but they wanted to have a tea party instead. I made a cup of decaf tea to pour into their tea pots so they could dispense it around and drink it. Then after that, they each ate a granola bar and a plum.

Next I wanted to clean up the house a little. I gave them each a feather duster and they dusted all their toys. Then picked them up so I could vacuum. and as I vacuumed, they followed me around and told the vacuum what a good job he was doing.

Finally they asked if they could relax and watch something. C picked a movie and they both sat on the couch.

Then, get ready for this... I took a SHOWER! alone. and shaved my legs. and no one came in crying or ripped the curtain open to see what I was doing in there. and I even told them where I would be. I even brushed and flossed my teeth.

Now I am sending out this amazed blog post while they finish the show. I'll make them some lunch and hopefully they'll eat it and then decide to take a nap. I wonder if I have time to mop the floor while they continue to be enchanted by whatever fairy came in the middle of the night and took pity on me.

Even Sam only bit me once this morning. and it wasn't even that hard. Should I be afraid of evil harbingers of doom? Or should I just silently pray that it will continue? Is there a light at the end of my tunnel? Or is it just the train coming?

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Bed Time Blues

I have decided to stop fighting with my kids about bedtime. I've been Sisyphus for far too long here trying to get my kids in bed by 7:30. For anyone who doesn't have children, this seems to be a no-brainer. Right? I mean, who fights with a 3-year old, let alone 2 of them. Just tell them to go to bed! Everyone who has kids has already sighed and poured a drink.

Here's what bedtime looks like for the un-initiated:

6:00pm: children run amok while I try to clean off the table and wrangle leftovers. When I say 'run amok' don't for a minute think I'm exaggerating. I may be prone to hyperbole (what?! I know. me! of all people. stretching the truth for entertainment) but Z actually does "running exercises" after dinner. If C won't join her in her mad dash from the front door, through the dining room, around the kitchen island and back, she just steals "stinky pink" blanket and C is forced to chase behind her crying and screaming for justice.

6:30pm: I inform children it's getting close to bath time and to please start picking up their toys. This causes immediate deafness and the inability to walk or put any toys away. Ever. When I threaten to throw away toys that have been strewn around the floor, I am cursed in secret twin language of 'Diggi'. Don't worry, even if you can't speak Diggi, you know when you've been told off. Much like Italian, there are hand gestures.

7:00pm: The Poseidon Adventure begins. Some of you may call this bath time. Make no mistake, people in the first three rows WILL be getting wet. and not just an errant splash or two. Sometimes whole buckets of water slosh over the side of the tub onto the "bather" I try to save this particular joy for when H is home or grandma's here, but it's summer and we're extra stinky when it's hot out.

7:30pm: Attempt to wrangle wet children out of the tub and into pajamas. Again with the immediate deafness and inability to walk or control any of your limbs. Also, there is the torturing of the cat to be done. No evening is complete without having to pry a retaliating furry blender off of someone's naked back, while someone else is kicking you in the chest to avoid the evil that is pajama pants.

8:00pm: (have you noticed that it's 2 hours since we started?) serve snack of warm (not too hot, not too cold, just right...) chocolate milk and graham crackers. sometimes this also involves a 'story' typically the three little pigs or bears or occasionally Rapunzel but with alternate endings that Daddy made up. Some of which I don't know.

8:15pm: Cajole, beg and finally scream at short people to get up the stairs. This is made more difficult by the aforementioned leg disorder. Then you start again by trying to herd them into the upstairs bathroom to brush the graham cracker crumbs out of their teeth. Eventually you grab them by the forehead and much like the old "flip-top head" toothbrush ads, manage to scrape most of the cookie off.

8:30pm: Finally fling children into beds. Sit on the floor in between two toddler beds and read two stories (as we cannot agree on ONE story, we must each pick our own) frequently stop reading to tell people to get back in bed, move their heads from in front of the book, or answer any myraid of questions about the illustrations.

8:45pm: Turn off light, turn on star-turtle, turn on sound machine and sit on one bed to sing a song. then sit on other child's bed to sing HER song. Give kisses, answer 16 more questions, hear 4 secrets and 1 "serious problem". Turn on ipod lullaby playlist, blow an even number of kisses from the door. attempt to sneak out of bedroom with out letting the cat in. Lock gate at the top of the stairs and trip down the first 3 steps as cat has been waiting for you. maliciously. He has not forgotten who's side you took during the cage match earlier in the dressing portion of your evening.

9:00pm: Fall on bed. Remember laundry. Write list of things you didn't finish doing. pour large glass of wine. fall asleep before you can drink it.

As you can see the entire thing takes me about 3 hours to do on my own. I swear that I am not stretching the times on this at all. So you tell me, save skipping the bath (which I do, quite frequently in the winter) how on earth could I get them in bed any earlier? So I've decided I don't care. what's the difference? they sleep until 8:30 or 9 in the morning and I can get up before them and start whatever I need to get done for the day. But for some reason, i feel like I am falling short in the "getting people to bed at a reasonable hour without screaming" department.

In an unrelated note, Sam the Man just heard H close his car door in the driveway and jumped up to greet him at the door. and possibly rat me out for my poor conduct. He's a vengeful bastard and I even gave him a mouse toy with feathers to play with today. Feathers, for God's sake! It's really not my fault that C threw it somewhere he can't seem to locate. She hides stuff at my mother's house that we're still looking for. She's good at that. But crap at remembering. Which is why I spend an inordinate amount of time scouring the house for Stinky Pink and find her in cookware, my sock drawer, a bin of dress up clothes, on the bookshelf and in my shoe.

And people wonder why I drink.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Things I will probably never understand...

overheard last night:

Z: Chlo, you be the monster and chase me!

C: oooooogly-gooooooogly

Z: aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhahahahahahaha!

On an unrelated note, I bought Samuel L Kitten a water fountain yesterday. He thinks it is preposterous. But he does enjoy strewing kitten-grass around the kitchen.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

6am giggle fest

I wish I could understand (or explain) what is so funny at 6am. C wakes up every morning between 5:30 and 6 and laughs, sings, plays with dolls in her bed, etc until she wakes Z up. Z tell her to 'knock it off' and they both go back to sleep. Then I wake them up at 8:30 or so.


Is this the universe telling me to get rid of my baby monitor? or is it C's public service to wake me up so I can get a jump on all the fun chores, like laundry and dishes before she gets around to getting out of bed.

Does anyone else's child do this? It's like an extended snooze button. Apparently when they stayed at G-ma's this weekend, she did the same thing. G-ma looked over at her and C said 'oh, I was just stretching and yawning, I'm going back to sleep' and she did.

And this is what they look like when I wake them up:

Monday, July 12, 2010

wha?...huh?... ok

This weekend I told the girls that if it was nice weather we could go swimming in Grandma's pool. Of course it poured rain Saturday morning which made C inconsolable. But it looked like it was clearing up at naptime so I made a last minute decision to throw them (and H) into swimsuits and hit the pool.

Remember that time I was pregnant and went to the hospital with nothing packed? Yeah, like that. Just went to the pool. no change of clothes, no snacks, nada.

They REFUSED to leave grandma's. No arguments, they just decided they would have a sleepover party. With Grandma. and I could leave. or stay. meh.

H and I drove back to the house to pick up pjs, bed rails and a change of clothes. My poor little mini suv has never ever moved that fast. I think H was afraid they'd change their minds.

But they didn't. B/c grandma lets you stay up until 11pm and jump on all the beds. Somehow I do NOT remember "grandma" being quite so fun when she was just "mom"

Quite honestly, I didn't care if they never went to sleep. H and I went to the movies and then came home at 11:30 and talked loudly. in the dining room. naked. and mixed drinks. also naked. it was epic.

Sam was not amused. he would have called CPS to report us for gross negligence if he only had opposible thumbs. and they had a cyraphone for kitten. or urdu. not sure which he's more comfortable speaking on the telephone.

We went back over Sunday morning and swam in the pool again. And then tried to leave for naptime. There was a sit-in. They wanted to stay at Grandma's "forever and ever and never leave and swim everyday" So H and I left again. and ran copious errands. things you don't want to do with two chatty kids in tow. like buy an air conditioner or a car top carrier or drink a very large cup of iced coffee.

Z fell asleep at 7pm on H's lap on G-ma's couch. C made it to her car seat. I made it all the way home and was up at 1:30am catching up on my blog reading. oh and I reorganized my itunes. all 90G. Cause 20 oz of iced coffee at 5pm is an awesome idea.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

under pressure

ok, so I made a big bloggie announcement and now I have performance anxiety. I mean, what the hell am I supposed to write about now? The fact that my kids don't sleep...

last night they went in the bed at 8:30. notice I said 'in the bed'. not asleep. no, who needs sleep? they continued to talk and sing about the lady with the aligator purse until 10pm. Which would be when H came home. Apparently he has some kind of somnolent super power. As soon as his tires hit the driveway the blessed sounds of silence filled the house.

Until Sam started banging on the guest room/office/ craft room/winter seed nursery/gym (it's a small house people and I can cram a lot of shit into a small space) Z demanded that I close the door to aforementioned multipurpose room before she would walk past it to brush her teeth. Apparently yesterday, they were in there and found a picture of a bat. I'm still not entirely sure of what they are talking about, but according to Z, it's one scary MF.

where was I? Oh yes, sneaking up the 100 year old creaky ass stair case to free Sam the Kitten from certain death of being trapped in a room filled with miscellaneous crap and a seriously mean ass bat, the door to which had swollen to 4 times it's original size.

epic fail.

you will be happy to know it all turned out quite well as it's now 8:18am and Sam has been free to knock jewelry off my nightstand and then not eat his breakfast while I wait for the coffee to brew. But don't worry. C is upstairs singing and Z making airplane sounds as I'm sure Buzz Lightyear, Space Ranger is very busy flying around her bed.

When I go up there to get them, they will lay in bed or upon the floor and flail about proclaiming they are much much too tired to get dressed. This is precisely why I drink so much coffee. I've deemed it more responsible than gin.

Friday, July 09, 2010

re-reading old posts

I was checking out the ol' blog here and realized two things that I felt the need to share with the group:

#1 I used to be a hell of a lot funnier. even when the girls were little and I was sleep deprived. Maybe that's why I was funnier.

#2 the first year of twin babies was WAAAAAY worse than the semester of orgo, biochem and genetics with fly lab. Way worse. no comparison. even counting in my post-not-really-breakup with a certain round-headed freak. And that semester I spent a fair amount of time drunk and crying on a pile of shoes on the floor of my closet. Still better than first year of babies. And I think I was thinner.

I miss the spewing forth of my vitriol on this here blog-o-rama and I am trying to get back more. The problem I have is the lack of time blocks to do so. Obviously I had LOADs of time pregnant. that's all I had. time to ponder my expanding navel. And when the girls were little little, I had quite a few naptime breaks... once they napped of course. Now I think I have my life a little more structured (hold on, I just fell off my balance ball chair writing that. A LITTLE structured. I have a friggin' schedule taped to the desk broken down into 1/2 segments. and that's just MY schedule. 'cause I'm totally free-falling and not anal. at. all) and I have some actual real-live adult humans to talk with I am less desperate to connect here. which is sad because I heart you, innernets, and I would not have made it through that first year if I didn't have some of you to commiserate with.

So I'm trying to be back and I promise to work on the picture thing. You wouldn't believe what they look like these days. like people. tiny filthy spastic haired people. 'cause that's different than before.

Thursday, July 08, 2010

best laid plans

This heat wave is finally getting to us. I coukd barely even get them to watch a movie this morning.

Right now they are waltzing around the dining room together humming the dance theme from Cinderella. Cute, until you realize that this ultimately ends in someone running away. At top speed.

So much for the plan of early naptime & swimming @ Gma's pool. Sigh.

Monday, May 03, 2010


I'm laying on my bed while the girls watch tinkerbell. They seem to have stopped fighting over who gets to wear the purple fairy wings. Please don't tell them i'm in here. It's so hot in my house & the only room that isn't a sauna is my bedroom due to new ceiling fan. I'm sure up for Mother-of-the-year with the television brain rotting & lack of supervision, but it's monday, 80 degrees & raining and I just don't care.


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Tuesday, April 27, 2010


I knew Z was sick when C told me to please sleep with her sister who needed me AND sat quietly in the doctor's office while Z got checked. If you know C at all you know this took serious self control to reign in her usual chaos.

sadly it was her level of concern for Z and not Z's complaining that made me call the ped. I trust the twin-bond way more than Z's complaining...

Saturday, April 24, 2010

getting stood up

I'm here at work on a beautiful saturday morning to ostensibly see patients who NEED TO HAVE GENETIC COUNSELING RIGHT!!! NOW!!!.

except my 10am decided to not show up. but I can't leave as I have two more scheduled after her.

I had such a day yesterday with the powers-that-be about scheduling patients and not having enough open appointment slots and not returning phone calls in a timely fashion that I almost told them to shove very very far.

My job is becoming more demanding than my children. And that is saying something.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Download Needed

please back up all systems onto external drive if you'd like to continue running this operating system.

I have way too much on my plate right now. And my brain is not up to full running capacity. I don't know if it's clogged with pollen or just running too many programs or what. But seriously I can't remember a damn thing.

And this covering a second shift on saturdays is turning out to be a way bigger hassle than it was last time. I suspect it has less to do with the patient load and paperwork than it has to do with my ever decreasing storage space.

Seriously, has anyone invented a backup disc for the human brain? I am in sore need of one.

I will not discuss the whining and general malaise of the short people. I think they have a cold now, and it's not allergies. Although, tomato tomahto really. It's still rivers of snot. and the battle of the hair barettes as snot likes to stick hair to your face in oh-so-attractive fashion.

Perhaps if I find a way to blog from my phone better. I actually think of 108 blog posts during the day, but I'm often hanging laundry or washing dishes when this little gems poof into my head and therefore far far from the laptop. which has unionized with the other electronics and therefore is constantly 'on break'

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

it finally happened

that blissful day people have told me about but I feared would never come.....

my children have been playing togehter without my needing to interfere or negotiate for over an hour.

I cleaned my bathroom, did a lpad of laundry, sent some emails & now I'm updating my blog!

surely I have jinxed it. since sam just ran by and bit me unprovoked

Friday, March 05, 2010


I just got off the phone with chase who charged me $10 for overdraft and $1.50 in finance charges when I paid the damn overdraft the next fucking day! What is the point of overdraft protection if I have to pay multiple fees? and I had the money in my savings acct. But will they let me link my savings to my checking? Noooooo. how would they periodically scam money off of me if I had a savings link. I do realize that in the grand scheme of life $11.50 is not the end of the world, but what the fuck do I spend time clipping coupons and reading the goddamn grocery circulars for if I have to pay absurd fees? and also, what good is a text telling you that your account is about to be in overdraft if it comes the day AFTER the mother fucker has posted? Just like the street signs in jersey "You've just missed Exit 4. Nah Nah" Fuck you too!

Don't you wish you had an appointment with me today to discuss your abnormal ultrasound results?

p.s. Clearly I need a drink. or eight. and to NOT wake up to "DOC! WHERE ARE YOU DOC HUDSON?!? WHY ARE YOU UNDER ZOE'S CRIBBY?!?! ZOE!!! ZOE!!! HELP ME FIND DOC!!! OH NO!!!! HOW WILL DOC GET BACK INTO MY CRIBBY?!?! MOMMY AND DADDY!!!! DOC IS UNDER ZOE'S CRIBBY!!!! OH WON'T SOMEONE HELP ME!?!?!?!?!" at 6am. followed by a morning worth of "I'M TIRED! I NEED TO WATCH SOMEFING ON TV!! WHERE IS PINK BLANKET?! I NEED MY CARS TO WATCH ME EAT BREAKFAST! NO!!!! I HATE APPLE JUICE! WHY IS THERE NO ORANGE JUICE?! WHY ARE YOU A TERRIBLE MOMMY WHO DIDN'T BUY ME ORANGE JUICE?! GO TO SHOPRITE AND GET SOME! NOW!!!!" I actually ran out the door when the babysitter showed up. which made Chloe cry. more. as if that were even possible.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010


I am sitting on the couch typing on my phone. my back hurts too much to get up & get my laptop & I fear if I walk into the bedroom & actually hear what's going on over the baby monitor, it may lead to homicide. H is not home yet & won't be for another hour. I forgot to buy myself milk @ the store after work today. i've had a headache since I got up... late. the babysitter forgot thay she was supposed to come today (instead of friday) and I don't have a single one of the ingredients for a sidecar. perhaps i'd be able to shake up a vodka martini, but I scammed an anti-inflammatory off my mother & I'm not quite sure if i'm ready for that hang-over. so. sigh. that is all