Recurring dreams....

I had my first child when I was very young. Seventeen to be exact. Like many girls at that age, the "man" in our life can do no wrong. The "man" in my life at the time just so happened to show me how many wrongs he could handle at one time. Finally, I decided to jump on the train of realizing how he wasn't meant to be involved in our lives (Jerytt and I).

He had his chances of course. My custody is one of legal nature. He is the one who stopped coming to the visitations.

The thing is, I have recurring dreams of him. These are dreams where I feel nothing but fear. He's always trying to hurt me physically in these dreams or one of my other children to hurt me in the end. Why is it that he is the one who chose to exit yet can't seem to find the door? I wish he'd find it already so I can deadbolt it for good....

Serenity now!!!

There are people who handle accidents well and there are people who don't. And by accidents, I mainly mean when kids spill shit. I'm one of those people who don't take this lightly. And by lightly, I mean I will freak the hell out!

Let's take this slow..... My husband has one vice and one vice only. I rarely bitch about it anymore. And by rarely, I mean about once per month I still go off.

About three days before Christmas, give or take, my husband and I were in our master bathroom. I was going through with my nightly ritual of teeth brushing and face washing. I probably went in there while Eric was in there doing his own thing, you know, as in I took the bathroom over. I'm not a patient individual, have you gotten that about me yet? Anyhow, our older boys were supposed to be watching the baby. Any by watching I mean actually following his every freaking move, there are a lot of them!

About, oh ten minutes pass by and my husband questioned the silence emanating from the living room. It was rather quiet. Like, holy shit what have you done? ... kind of quiet. And yeah, oh holy shit, what have you done? Jerytt, the fifteen year old was off watching tv in the bedroom and Isaac, the ten year old was sitting on the couch face to face with his PSP (portable playstation). And where was Xavier you ask? He was sitting on the floor playing with the plastic cup, which used to hold the nasty tobacco spit remnants of my husband's bad habit. OH. MY. GOD.

Needless to say it wasn't a pretty sight in my household that night.

Enter Christmas morning. We were exhausted. The night before we had gone to Disney World with my mother, my sister and my sister's husband. We didn't get home until like 1:00am. We slept in a bit before tackling the presents and all that goes with it. Just as we're about to start with stockings, I'm sitting in front of the coffee table with the TV remote to adjust the sound to the fireplace in HD On Demand (I'll just remind you again, because I'm cool like that). Just as I was getting to a level of goodness, Xavier reached across my body and grabbed the handle to my mug of very black coffee. Yep, all over the carpet and mainly on me. Are you fucking kidding me?

Enter Sunday night after Christmas. Xavier is getting the sniffles. Insert Tylenol here. For dinner, I thought I'll play is safe and give him Stage 2 bananas. About three quarters of the way through it, Xavi was all "I'm totally full woman" and I'm all "No dude, you're so going to finish this container!". Dinner was done, onto the boobage. Xavi once again was all "I'm so not into this right now, probably not going to be into it at all tonight". Finally, I give in, again because I'm cool as hell like that. Xavier took a little crawl from one end of the couch and back to me again, stood up and then projectile vomited ALL. OVER. ME. Are you fucking kidding me?

Does this ever end you ask? No, it does not....

Enter tonight. Dinner is done. Dishes are done. I'm totally ready to chill since I too am sick now. I'm filling up Isaac's water bottle for tomorrow, the refrigerator is open and Xavier is chilling in front of it as he often does. I turn my back for oh a MILLI-SECOND! and WHAM-FUCKING-O!! He grabs the pitcher of iced tea I. JUST. MADE. Insert time to clean up another fucking spill HERE!

So yeah, in the words of George Costanza, "SERENITY NOW!!!!"

Next thing that spills is growing mold because I really don't care anymore....

Dude, why does Tiramisu have to be dipped in coffee?

Those of you who know me personally or know me through reading my blog, know that I am a dessert F.A.N.A.T.I.C.

Recently, I tried a bite of my husband's Tiramisu. I think we were having dinner at an Italian restaurant. It was good. Really good. I don't remember the coffee part though and since my husband is anti-coffee, maybe I thought it just wasn't in there. Like maybe it was an updated snazzy version of Tiramisu for those of us cool people who don't want cold coffee added to their snack. Who the hell thought of taking a beautiful cup of steamy coffee and pouring in some ice? WTF? Keep that shit away from me please and thank you.

I had to hit the grocery store during my lunch break and I just NEEDED something sweet. Anyway.... so now I'm just sitting here at my desk eating the top layers:



It's not doing a damn thing for me. At all! Notice the slice is big enough for say, three people? Since I'm only eating the top layers, I figured it cut out at least two servings!

On a side note, my baby boy has gotten his first cold. Complete with projectile vomit! He was so pissed off last night that he couldn't breathe out of his nose AND suck his bink (pacifier) at the same time. Poor little guy. I cuddled up with him in my bed until about 2am. I can't wait until he's all better again. He's much more fun when he's striking a pose:

<--- Xavier is all GQ, huh?

BLECK! I hate that I have this cold coffee taste on my tongue now and it's going to be there for the rest of the day. Add to it that I'm also getting a cold so it's just double nasty.... It's so not stopping me from finishing it though!

Bitches and Ho's (is there supposed to be an apostrophe here?)

This is a Ho Ho Bean (according to the tag):



Last night I was sitting around with my littlest shortie and he was holding his Ho Ho Bean, which he loves so much! It's the only thing deserving of a hug whenever it's brought into his view. I was impatiently waiting for my husband to take our oldest boys shopping last night so I could wrap presents. I have zero patience. ZERO. ZIP. ZILCH. NIL. So I brought Xavier into the bedroom while Eric was getting dressed and let him drool all over our bed, you know to piss Eric off so he would leave quicker (this didn't seem to do the trick!).

That's when I decided to refer to his pacifier as Bitch (the "B" is capitalized because it's a proper noun in this instance). A bit earlier on, I decided to refer to his Ho Ho Bean simply as "Ho". When I couldn't take it any longer and my husband STILL wouldn't leave I grabbed Xavier from the bed and told him that I'd rather go hang out with his Bitch and Ho.

I'm such an appropriate role model in my 9 1/2 month old's life. Really, I am....

Happy Holidays to all!



Xavier's Bitch said you can "suck it" if you don't appreciate my humor!
<--- Xavier with his Bitch

The organisms held him in for ten years!

<---- Isaac, 14 months?


<---- Xavier,8-9 months?

Last night I was watching Keeping Up With The Kardashians so my husband couldn't be in the same room as me (WTF, this show rocks!). He went to play with Xavier and Isaac in one of the bedrooms.

Apparently while they were playing, Isaac told Eric that he and Xavier are twins separated by ten years (which, we often say ourselves). He said there were organisms that held Xavier in so they weren't born at the same time. How totally creative is that?

If you look at the photos above, he's right! They have the same eyes (color, lashes), same noses, same hair, they ARE the same child. There's no question!

Also, when Xavier wakes up from a nap, Isaac swears Xavier's head and face are smaller. Just the other day Isaac came into the kitchen and Xavier was sitting on the floor just after his nap. "See mom, look how small it is!" and he grabbed his brother and smothered him with love. And by smothered, I mean just that. We have to pry him off the baby numerous times everyday or Xavier begins to shriek. And by shriek, I mean high pitched wailing. It's annoying.

Oh dear God, what have you done?

Last night.....

Jerytt: Ma, I need a ride to school. At 7:00am, I'll grab your car keys and wait in the car for you....

This morning.....

I put Xavier back into bed after his breakfast. I look at the clock and notice it's already five minutes later than when I normally leave. Isaac and I collect our things and head out for the day. I lock the front door and close it.

I notice Jerytt isn't in the car like he said he would be.

Jerytt: The keys weren't where they usually are.

Me: So you didn't think it was important to tell me that you don't have the keys BEFORE I close the LOCKED door?

WTF?!

I looked down at my brand new pair of shoes, then looked over at the very wet grass and decide HE is going to be the one to tread through it and bang on the back door until Eric opens it.

That whole think before you act thing.... it's kind of important!

Remember the Seinfeld episode when George took the eclair out of the garbage and ate it? Well this story is NOTHING like that... Well, sorta...

Allow me to introduce you to one of my good friends at Peppridge Farm! His name is 3-Layer Fudge Stripe Cake... The top and bottom layers are made up of chocolate cake and the middle layer is golden cake. This is no ordinary cake. It's light, like that of cotton candy. It's moist, like that of a light dusting of fresh snow. It's got the right hint of sweetness through and through. Now the icing, oh the icing!! Have you ever played Candy Land? Then you know what the "Chocolate Swamp" is. Well the icing is just the right amount, never a droplet more, of this "Chocolate Swampy" substance. Then there's the fudge. The cake is topped with stripes of fudge to make it that much more appealing.

To simply have a box of this cake hanging out in your freezer is a forecast that the day you choose to defrost it, is going to be a good day! A great day in fact!

Onto the story....

I get home from work yesterday and decide "Today is the day we're going to eat 3-Layer Fudge Stripe Cake for dessert!", and I remove said cake from the freezer. At first, I put it in the refrigerator. My husband points out that if I am planning on having it for dessert that night, I better place it on the counter instead!

We continue on with dinner. I grilled up some Tilapia fillets, baked some potatoes (in the microwave, do people actually "bake" them anymore?), fixed up a quick Caesar salad. I was ever so careful not to fill up on this healthy dinner, what with the cake sitting behind me on the counter whispering sweet nothings into my ear since taking him out of the frigid freezer conditions...

The dinner dishes were safely deposited into the dishwasher, glasses were refilled. I removed the handsome treat from his box and balanced the styrofoam tray on the sink divider (you know, one large sinks separated into two sections?). I served up some slices to both the boys and then slickly, cut a piece for myself which resembled both their slices put together! We go about eating our heavenly delights..... At this time, the boy's bickering was wearing my last nerve and digging into my happy place whilst enjoying one of my favorite indulgences. I sent Jerytt to the bathroom and began cleaning up dessert dishes. The cake was still balanced on the sink divide.... I grabbed my fork and took a few more bites of the cake, you know, to even it out, he can't be placed into the frig for midnight consumption unevenly can he? THAT'S. WHEN. IT. HAPPENED.

3-Layer Fudge Stripe Cake took a tumble on his head directly into the sink. The sink which contained remnants of Dawn dish soap. Oh - - 3-Layer Fudge Stripe Cake are you okay? You poor, poor dear. I think I shrieked out an "Oh shit" or something kinda like it. It was a sorry attempt to cover up what had just occurred because my husband had to get in on the action instantly. The styrofoam tray was staring back at me from the sink, right in the eye. I was eye to eye with the STYROFOAM TRAY, not the cake! Rapidly, I slid my fork beneath the cake portion and flipped him back over. I assessed the situation. "Beloved 3-Layer Fudge Stripe Cake, do you need mouth to mouth?" Oh my God! He had a sheen of soap covering his perfectly proportioned fudge stripes!

What's a girl to do? The only thing that can be done in a situation such as this. I carefully scraped off the top layer of Chocolate Swampy-like icing (complete with fudge stripes!) and shoved it down the garbage disposal, rushed 3-Layer Fudge Stripe Cake back into his box, sealed it off and stored him back in the refrigerator.

You couldn't think I was going to throw the remainder of 3-Layer Fudge Stripe Cake in the trash! Sheesh!

And yes, I am going to eat it, I mean.... he needs a proper burial, right into my gut!