I just want a bagel thats all is that asking to much? Apparantly

Have I told you yet how I came to be gluten free? Probably like 7,000 times but I’m not so good at the remembering what I’ve already blogged about so I’ll tell you again.
Years ago when I was maybe 13ish I started getting this ridiculously horrible cramping that felt like, hey if I puke this will feel better (what kind of genius thinks this kind of shit). Only it never did. A few days would go by and the pain would go away. I finally went to see my doctor who took my blood pressure and informed me that I had an ulcer. He gave me ulcer pills told me to drink tons of milk and called it a day. Only problem was those made it hurt worse. I went back and he declared that whoever had told me to take those pills was an idiot. I reminded him that a month earlier he had in fact told me to take the pills. He looked in my chart and mumbled something and declared I was lactose intolerant and to quit all dairy. I nearly pissed myself because I am a vegetarian so besides veggies, milk, cheese and ice cream were all I had. I didn’t know what I would do with myself. About two weeks into that the pain came again. This time I went to my OB. He declared I had endometrosis and loaded me up with Vicodin (Oh so thats how the addiction started). He also did blood work and informed me I had very very low chances of ever having an ulcer. He did a surgery and said that I had stage four endometriosis. Lovely. That seemed to help for a while but the pain always came back. Three surgeries later I was endometriosis free (for now) and pregnant. OOOOOHHHH OUCH OOOOHHH SHIT. That is what I spent a lot of time saying during my pregnancy. I took myself to ER three times and was informed all three that I was suffering from gas and an ulcer. One visit I was even accused of taking Castor oil. Great, wonderful, fuck you very much. Another time they accused me of going to ER to get more ultrasounds just so I could see what the baby looked like. WOW got to love our medical care huh. I had the kid and pain was still there. Take myself to ER and get told I have an ulcer. At this point I lose it and morph into some complete nutso and use some unfriendly words at the doctor along the lines YOU BETTER FIGURE THIS OUT FUCKER I’M NOT LEAVING HERE AGAIN WITH! NOTHING! WRONG! He tells me he will do a courtesy ultrasound and its probably just some cysts rupturing. NOPE I have gallstones. Yeah thats right. This jack ass doctor was going to let me leave with some fucking ulcer pills which are hell on a gallbladder. When I went in for surgery for my gallbladder I was informed that it had been sick for a long time and it was so great I had it out because it had pushed itself up against another organ to prevent from bursting. PAIN STILL THERE. But don’t worry I had plenty of ulcer pills. Finally I think to myself. You know maybe I can’t eat wheat (no clue where the fuck this thought came from) and holy shit did it work. Only problem. FUCK! is it hard to give up bagels and bread and cake and cookies and brownies and so on.

Which brings me to the actual reason for this post. I want a bagel. I want a bagel from a bagel shop so bad. The kind that is just dripping with that cream cheese that only bagel places have. AND I CAN’T HAVE ONE. Yeah whatever. This leads me to the second reason for my post. It is so hard for me to eat. For lunch today I had this organic rice in a bag thing. It was okay but not good enough that I could eat the same flavor every day. This brings up the problem of me being a vegetarian. It seems like even the things that look vegetarian on the cover never are. They almost ALWAYS contain chicken broth. I got creative for a while and started making my own soups since most people make soup with damn wheat flour and I can’t have that either. However even my the master chef gets a little tired of cooking each meal. I hate when I go to a restaurant and the only vegetarian items are salad and potatoes. Would some rice and vegetables and beans kill you to put on. Or when I go to Paisans and they have two soups and both have chicken in them. Wow fuckers. I was perfectly content going to lunch at Wild Oats everyday but I guess that is too healthy for my coworkers.

Oh gosh could this post be any more boring? Sure it could! Can I cuss anymore? Absolutely. So sorry to my five readers for my verbal spewage of trash.

In the end I’m left eating a whole bunch of lettuce and making homemade soup all the time and grosso oatmeal for breakfast. You see I also hate eggs which makes breakfast nearly fucking impossible especially since one of my assfuck friends had to tell me that cereal contains bugs, bug pieces and bug eggs and sometimes hatched bugs. Now I’m stuck with oatmeal and fruit for breakfast. Shit is it any wonder I’m so crabby lately?

Basically this is me complaining about everything when I’m really just mad at my carpet

Disclaimer: This post contains a lot of four letter words, and also other bad words so if you don’t want to read it, well, fuck you!

So Christmas is over. I am left with a feeling that is mixed with overwhelmed and mildly disappointed. This year I asked my friends and family to please not buy my son toys. He has enough really. I should take photos, whatever, that requires me to get of the couch and that isn’t going to happen. In lieu of presents I asked everyone to donate to the charity of their choice. Here is what my son has received so far.

*A sit and spin. (This is a toy it is giant, I don’t know what to do with it)
*A book and a check (okay the check is fine, now I have to take it and put it in his bank but I might just put it in mine and then send it back to UC Davis children’s hospital)
*A stuffed dog (I was told all proceeds from said dog went to some charity blah blah blah its still space in my house since my son won’t touch a stuffed animal with a ten foot pole it will now go in the pile of stuffed animal fluff in his room)
*Snowboarding pants and a hat (Okay I totally wanted these so I’m not actually mad at my cousin for buying them because they are fucking adorable and yeah they are awesome so I’ll let that one slide)
Now onto the grandparents (my parents that is)
*A $30.00 donation to Make a Wish Foundation (you would think they listened right, like they did what I said..Ha read on)
*One giant stuffed chair with Alex the Lion on it (I guess the giant stuffed dinosaur chair they already got him a few months back wasn’t enough)
*A Superman TV (yes that is right, my fucking 17 month old child who I did not want to have a TV in his room so he didn’t turn into a TV obsessed fuckhead like me now has a fucking bright blue and red TV in his room)
*A giant dump truck (He folds the dumper back and sits on the drive line and rides it around, yes very cute, I’ll stick it next to the battery operated car and four wheeler he had and between the other dump truck and sitty ridey thing and wooden riding train)
*Another sitty ridey thing (because 6 aren’t enough)
*An outfit from baby gap (very cute again I will allow this to slide because it isn’t clothing*
*A remote control buzz light year car (because he already can’t work the other 3 he has)
* A page made from my mom for his scrapbook (Okay this one is fine. I actually really really liked this idea because it was combining something I loved with something I really love my son having. He has a beautiful scrapbook (2) and I loved this gift)

*O and then the phantom donation my grandpa says he made but I have yet to see.

We still have to go to my husbands families house and I hope they didn’t get toys because I really don’t want to have to pack shit home with us.

I got home last night and my house was already covered in toys and junk and I was dragging in bags of more crap and all the sudden I just felt overwhelmed. I have been making such a huge effort to keep our house clean lately (excludes bedroom because I am not so good at the folding of laundry bit) but it seems like every time I clean it someone finds a way to mess it back up. I have started doing this minimalist thing where every weekend I clean and each time I do I try and take one thing off my counters or out of a room. My thought is that less clutter less mess RIGHT? RIGHT???? Wrong!! Seems people just think ooooo look a new space to stuff something I don’t want to deal with. Twice now I’ve cleaned the pantry. I make it beautiful. I sort it by meals, breakfast, lunch, tea, soup cans, tomato cans, Shannon’s food (gluten free grosso crap), Brandon approved food (egg and peanut free), Brandon’s medicine, our medicine, pots, pans, Tupperware (even put them all away with corresponding lids on them this time so husband doesn’t whine that he couldn’t find a lid for his tuna fish) and so on. You get the point. It was very pretty and all organized and what not. Husband takes one look at it, says IT LOOKS GREAT, then says, WE REALLY NEED TO KEEP UP ON THAT. Then I make the mistake of going to the store and asking said husband to help me unload. His idea of unloading is to shove cans and food wherever there is a can shaped hole. Now there is Brandon food in the cereal section and chip section, soup in the breakfast section, coffee on top of the bowls, bowls in the breakfast section and I want to pull my hair out when he opens it the other day and says WE REALLY SHOULD STRAIGHTEN THIS PLACE UP. Is this one of those situations where he purposely puts it all wrong so I won’t ask him to help unload anymore?

Another reason I can’t wait for Christmas to be completely over is that I’m sick of fighting with Brandon about why exactly he needs to leave the ornaments on the tree and why after he pulls them off he doesn’t need to pull of the hook, and why after he pulls of the hook he doesn’t need to go the whole way and just pull out the whole damn top of the ornament and then hide all the pieces from me so I can’t even put the damn ornament back together. I can’t wait for the tree to be gone.

Did I mention my carpet is driving me nuts. The fucking fucks who owned this house before me put in cream colored fucking carpet. CREAM!!!!!! Now I have to live with little black stains everywhere because SIPPY CUPS LEAK PEOPLE and little boys pee when you take their diaper off, and red cookie icing does stain, so does pink baby vomit, and strawberry milk, and apparently even water. I was supposed to get pergo as a Christmas present (pergo not real wood because we are only staying here for the next year while we build our dream house which will not have cream colored fucking carpet). I did not get my pergo because of reasons involving arguments with mom and husband and so on oh ya and the place my mom just swore would give me a good deal quoted me freaking $6,800.00!!!!!! You giant assfuck. I’m still considering getting a bid from Home Depot but in the mean time I will look at THE CARPET IN MY DINING ROOM (thats right the idiots carpeted the fucking dining room) and cry. O yeah side note the geniuses also carpeted the goddamn maser bathroom.

Basically I’m just in a feeling of eww. I want the nasty carpet gone which I actually think will make everything look so much cleaner, because I hate scrubbing my house and vacuuming just to look down and see nasty carpet. It feels like I never cleaned. I just want the dirty gone. I know the carpet is the first step but I can’t justify spending that much money on something that isn’t real. To me its like saying hey, Pay $1,000.00 for this Tiffany knock off okay and don’t feel weird about it either okay. Oh and I know I know carpet shampooing right, WRONG. They came and shampooed and informed me that the stains would be back in three weeks, and they didn’t, they came back in two.

Oh well maybe I’ll feel better after the new year. Probably not though, because I will still have this carpet.

Oh and look. I just learned that I can change fonts and colors in my post

Sort of a play date…very much in my face

My friend Alli just moved back from Vegas. Alli has two kids. I believe they are ages 6 and 5 but don’t quote me on that. She had these kids way before I thought of having kids and back when I was all,
“You don’t have to be a parent to know how to parent.” (Yes I was this ignorant)
So I made all kinds of comments on her parenting, like how I couldn’t understand how in 5 years she has only spent like one night away (I still don’t get it.)

Or how she has made it 5 yeas without really having a job (are you kidding me, I need to work even if I take him I NEED TO WORK.)

Or how sometimes kids have to get hurt and get dirty (DUH)

Or comments to other moms about how babies or toddler SO SHOULD NEVER SLEEP IN BED WITH THEIR PARENTS!!! EVER!!

I’ve made these sorts of comments to all of my friends with kids. Then I had a kid and when I made the decision to let my son sleep in my bed the first thing I did was apologize to people and say you know I didn’t have a kid I didn’t know any better. MOST (i.e. all but one) of my friends totally understood and giggled at me for being the dumbshit knowitall friend who was now smitten with her kid. Then there was that one. Alli. She found ever second of a chance to remind me “I remember when you said this”, “I remember when you judged me for that!” Ya whatever shut up I said sorry already.

Back to the damn playdate thingy. Actually it was just the Alli had locked herself out of her house and needed to come over with the kids for a while until she could get in. The time went something like this.

Me: Sorry he has picked up a few choice words (i.e. Oh fuck and Oh shit)


Me thinking: Well fuck you very much (wasn’t your son the one walking around saying shit just back in August?? Hmmm? HMMMM?)
Me (as Brandon dances on the coffee table): Gosh my kid is probably a bad influence

Alli: O no my kids would never do something like that, they know what to do and what not to do!

Me thinking: Well aren’t you some super special fucking super mom
Alli: You know if you ever want me to baby sit I can

Me: Ya maybe in a while he isn’t really so good with the leaving me to hang out with people he doesn’t know yet thing.

Alli: Well you have to do it sometime you know so he doesn’t end up all clingy

Me: I know, when we are both ready.

Alli: Well you know this is WHAT YOU HAVE TO DO. You need to bring him over for 15 minutes and then 30 mintues and then an hour and each time he will scream for a while or the whole time but he will get used to me.

Me thinking: Because I just have 15 minutes to drop my kid of at your house while I sit on the porch listening to him scream for no fucking reason when we could be playing happily at the park.

Alli: It’s hard I know, BUT! DON’T! WORRY! I’M! NOT! JUDGING! YOU! AT! ALL!!!

Me thinking: What the fuck I never thought you were judging me till you just brought it up and even if you are who the fuck cares I’m not like you I don’t care if you think I’m doing it wrong, I’m the mom, not you, he’s mine, not yours, no I don’t have to leave him anywhere and force him to scream if I’m just not ready. I don’t need to leave him with someone just so he can grow up and think his mom didn’t love him or get hurt and remember that one time his mommy wasn’t there when he got hurt.

Alli: Don’t worry you’ll be fine but you have to do it

Me thinking: Blah blah I’m Alli I have more kids then you I’m a know it all, I am going to over advise you the way you spat out your advice before, Blah blah…get out of my house play date over.
Later Chase (her son) and Brandon were playing and Chase was building blocks. Well my son seriously has something against blocks being stacked in any kind of orderly fashion and immediately rushes over to bash his fist through the blocks and then swoosh his hand back and forth over the top to make sure no block was left neatly stacked anywhere near another block. Chase starts getting all sad and boohoo so Alli called him over and whispered (but not really a whisper)

“Chase he’s just a baby and he doesn’t know any better so don’t get mad at him that he knocked them over, he just doesn’t understand that you are building stuff and that he needs to let you play with the toys.”

“Chase he is just a baby whose mom hasn’t taught him yet that you don’t touch toys when other kids are playing with them, and he obviously doesn’t know right from wrong, and don’t get mad because it isn’t his fault his mom lets him get away with things I would never ever let my precious angels do!!!!!!”

Am I just out of my mind or what people. Please don’t come to my house and spew your I’m not judging you bullshit when you are clearly judging me because I don’t want to stifle my sons creative side. So what if he climbs on the coffee table and dances. He is happy when he is up there. And so what if he knocks over blocks. I once remember Alli telling me that it was okay that her son at a Kit Kat sideways because it was his way of showing his creativity and that he was different. Okay so Brandon knocking over blocks is just him being creative and seeing outside the box. I am proud that my son doesn’t look at blocks and think they have to be neatly lined up or stacked. My son crashes and smashes like a boy!!!! Thats right a BOY not a sissy la la!! I’m sorry I’m not one of those moms whose all “Don’t take the cushions off the couch and then jump off the coffee table on them missing the glass ledge of the TV stand by a millimeter.” Or I’m not like “Couches are meant for sitting not for walking, jumping or playing or fort building.”

I am the mom of a BOY! A creative boy. A boy who will be a boy and run and jump and bump and bruise and HiYA and Karate chop and kerpow and blasto. My son can play cowboys and Indians with his toy gun and I’m sorry I don’t care if it looks like a real cowboy gun and I’m sorry if I’m teaching him its okay to play cowboys and Indians rather then taking away all toy guns because they resemble FUN!!!! I’m sorry I let my son watch SpongeBob even though this one time in one episode SpongeBob said Shut up and another time someone maybe say I’ll kick your butt. I don’t care. My son is a boy and he’s going to stay that way. So let the couch jumping, block throwing, truck smashing, naked dancing on the table begin!!!!!!

**Side note to Cheatwoods!!! I love that you take pictures of Josiah smashing the blocks after Jeramy stacks them and I extra love that you have the motto that it is totally okay that your son piles up the couch cushions and then flings himself off of high places on them simply because HE IS A BOY!!!. Thank gosh there are still some people out there who actually believe boys will be boys. You rock Jessica. YOU ROCK!!!

Look at my new toy

Okay everyone check out my fabulous new toy.

If you know me you know I have a few mild obsessions. Shoes! Purses! Oh yeah, my son!! and Cell phone, PDA, QWERTY, thingies!!!! So last week I was watching Tivo’d episodes of the fabulous Rachael Ray show when they had a segment on the new hot things of 2007 and that is when they showed IT. The T-Mobile DASH. I was all ohmygoshlookathat and was immediately online searching for it and then rushing in to show Rob a picture and repeat about 400 times ohhowcute it was. (Side note you should all know Rob has a much worse cell phone gadgity obsession then I do.) Anyway for no reason at all we went to the Bulleys in the mall and somehow stopped off at the Tmobile store and there may or may not have been some serious eyelash batting but either way I ended up walking out of the store with my new DASH. Thats right folks before Christmas. Because I mean I couldn’t be bothered to wait until after Christmas and then have to actually call customer service and transfer service and all that stuff you know.

A list of things my fabulous new toy does.

Shows my email right there on the front page
Has Yahoo and AOL messanger right there
Has a full QWERTY
Does not flip, fold or, twirl like previous two damn sidekicks (yes I traded in a perfectly good perfectly well working $300.00 phone for a brand new phone just because it didn’t flip)
Has a video camera
Looks way cool almost like Blackberry but not quite so stuffy and businessy
Is shiny and new and no one else has one yet

Little boys can be soooo cute….who taught them that

My son has learned a new trick. When he is bad he will run up and give you a kiss. However by far the cutest new trick my son has picked up is when he gives me a hug he pats my back. It is the sweetest most endearing thing I’ve ever seen or felt. The worstest (yeah yeah not a word) part is when he gets in trouble and I can’t even get mad cuz he runs over and hugs me and pats my back. That little shit. Darnit I love him way to much.

Ode to breastfeeding

Okay so first of all I’m not even really quite sure what an ODE is but it sounded cool in the title. I miss breast feeding sooooo much. Here are some of the things that have happened since I quit.

Son developed first cold which wasn’t just a cold but turned into a disgusting snotty sinus infection causing him to turn into a cranky, whining, snot filled boy who refused to eat but had tons of poop to shoot at me even though I don’t know how he was making it since he-wouldn’t-eat-a-thing.

Boobs what boobs. I now have two smallish (well small D’s) pancake thingies where my jumbo wumbo’s used to be

Period moved from super bad to mega-ultra-screaming-bring-me-the-vicodin-or-I-will-kill-someone-BAD

Son started trying to find random things to suck on to console himself even though he had never sucked on anything since the day he was born (aside from my boob)

Son quit sleeping and when he did sleep decided 3/4’s of his body had to be touching mine.

I MISS BREASTFEEDING. With the next on I’m just never ever ever gong to stop!!!!!!!

The intended blog will no longer be posted

Last night I was thinking about posting blogs today. I had this wonderful idea of posting a blog declaring my new diet. I was going to go on a diet and it was going to be glamorous and I was considering posting pictures of myself in the process of losing weight. I was watching Rachael Ray this week and they had a goal lady on and she said that we should declare our goals and write them down to make them happen. So I had every intention of coming on here and declaring that I was going to lose 20 pounds. I was going to tell you all the things that I could still eat on my fabulous new self invented diet and I was going to let you all know that I would be going back to the gym. It was all going to be beautiful and you would all encourage me and scold me when I did bad. Then I woke up this morning and started my period. Man those truffles I ate for breakfast sure were good. Maybe I’ll think about writing that blog again next Monday when I don’t feel like snarfing down the 20 cookies Katie just brought over dunked a container of chocolate frosting and then throwing back a whole bottle of vicodin while karate chopping my husband because he looked at me wrong. Going to the gym this week. HA ya right. Maybe if you want me to walk around randomly kicking people in the shin for being shiny happy skinny people who aren’t on their period. So like I said maybe I will write that blog on Monday maybe not. Wouldn’t you like it if I did. Ha right now you can all suck a duck. (Just kidding blog fans please don’t leave but man do I feel like shit and I don’t like anyone who doesn’t feel like shit right now so yeah….suck a duck)