Good News!!!!

It’s official~hubby got the job!  He leaves on the 25th and will be gone a month.  It’s all very sad-happy.  I am SO happy that he’ll be making $3000 per month on his own without my income.  However, I am also SO sad that he will not be home with us all the time.  It’s going to be a lot of stress to work and raise the baby all by myself.  It’s worth doing for a while though, because eventually it will be enough for me to stay home with my baby.  Which is another exciting thing.

Of course, every time I talk to my dad about how excited I am to homeschool and be a SAHM he pretends he doesn’t hear me.  Or like if he ignores it that I’ll just be tricked into not doing it.  It is kind of frustrating.  I understand where he is coming from.  He would not want to stay home with his kids or homeschool-and he didn’t.  And that’s fine.  It’s not for everyone.  Some people get really bored and depressed staying home with their kids.  But every time I complain about something my dad says “oh, well it will get better (or easier) when the baby goes to school”.  Like I haven’t told him EVERY SINGLE TIME he mentions it that I am homeschooling and staying home. (Which I do.)

 It kind of makes me feel like my dad doesn’t respect my goal.  Which I really don’t understand, because my dad is supportive of pretty much anything.  If I wanted to be an acrobat my dad would think that was fine.  But if I want to be a SAHM he just doesn’t understand?  I don’t know.  I’m confused.  I think I’ll have to talk to him about it.

 Well aren’t I manic?  I went from super excited to upset in one short post.  Super.  Well, if I went quickly in, I’ll go quickly out. 

I’ll Be Responsible-I SWEAR!

20 THINGS I’D LIKE TO SPEND MY TAX RETURN ON:

1. A New Computer
2. A Big Screen TV
3. An iPod
4. A Car
5. New Clothes
6. New Couch
7. A Vacation
8. Getting Married
9. A Hundred Date Nights
10.A New Bed
11.A Dresser
12.CDs
13.Movies
14.Redecorating the House
15.A New Cell Phone/Cell Phone Carrier
16.A Couple of Trips to Portland
17.Going to the Music Experience thing in Seattle
18.Toys for the Baby
19.Clothes for the Baby
20.A New Engagement Ring

WHAT I AM SPENDING MY TAX RETURN ON:

1.RENT, paid in advance

I hate being a grown-up!! Not that it changes anything. Just for the record. Being a responsible adult SUCKS!

I Could Just Stand Here and Scream in Your Ear (or “At This Point I Go Crazy”)

Then I would be able to have the same magical power to irritate as my almost-three year old. I tell you what, that is a near-super-human ability. I don’t know what happened this morning, but he woke up at like 8 am (after me going to bed at 330) and it was ON.

So I crawled into the living room with my blanket and my pillow and layed on the ground in front of the tv, popped in Veggi Tales, and tried to “rest my eyes”. Of course, my three year old just stands above me and does that siren cry (parents know what I’m talking about-it starts quiet and then gets louder and more high pitched):

“mmmmoooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!”

to which I open one eye and say “what?!”-in the nicest voice possible.

To which my child responds “nothing”!

To which I close my eyes.

To which my child jumps on my back elbows first and screams “MOOOMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYY!”

To which I open both eyes (giving him the strict mommy face) and say “Yes. Aidan. Mommy. WHAT?!” A little louder, but trying to keep my cool.

To which my son says “sorry mommy” and blows me a kiss. I feel much better, tell him I love him too and close my eyes.

At which point my son jumps with full-body-force onto my knee caps, and starts bouncing up and down going “sorry mommy. sorry mommy. sorry mommy. sorry mommy….”

To which I think “oh no, my son. MOMMY is not sorry. YOU will be shortly though” and say in my bestest-calmest-not-crazy voice “SORRY is for accidents baby. How can mommy help you?”

To which my son responds by starting to cry. Then he starts wandering around the house moaning-not crying, just this infuriating “uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhh. *sniffle* wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh”-and driving his truck on his hand, on the wall, on the doors, pretty much everywhere except the carpet. Which would normally bug me, but at this point I don’t really care because I am so tired. At this point, unless he is screaming in pain or lighting himself/the house on fire I don’t really care. But then he comes back.

In his whiniest voice he says “mmmmmooooooooooo” at which point I cut him off by using the full-name technique.

“AIDAN DOUGLAS WHAT DO YOU WANT?!” This time in an extremely irritated voice but not yelling.

“Drink”

“Okay fine. Here. Better?”

“Thank you”

At which point I close my eyes and he throws his cup on the ground (spill proof thank God) and starts moaning.

“What now, Aidan?”

“Drink”

“You HAD a drink, but you threw it on the ground”

The logic escapes him.

“Drink!”

“Son, if you want a drink you will pick that right back up and drink your juice. If you want to go back to bed, you will stand there and continue to cry. Make a decision so that mommy can rest now.”

At which point he starts to cry.

At which point I go crazy. Not dangerous crazy. Just quiet crazy, in my head. I shove my head in the pillow and scream silently. Then my son crawls down beside me and snuggles up to me and goes to sleep. I am not angry anymore but SHOCKED how he can go from cute to demonic to cute again in a matter of only 2 HOURS!

If you want kids but don’t have them, I hope this scared the piss out of you. If you have kids, and mostly want them, I hope this made you laugh.

First. Blog. Ever.

Okay, so I lied.  This is totally NOT my first blog.  My pants are on fire, I got it.  Moving on.

I decided to try wordpress because I heard some good press about it (pun only slightly intended) and thought it would be good to open myself up to the new and super-fun.  And also because I thought it would give me something to do.  (I need more to do like I need another hole in my head, but shortly this will become a good outlet.  I think.  Well see, right?

Speaking of write (I know, I know) that’s another reason that I’m here.  I love writing, but I just haven’t been able to get over this TERMINAL case of writer’s block.  I thought maybe a new venue would liven things up (although it obviously has not improved my seguaying abilities-or my vocabulary.  Seguaying?WTF?!).

Anywho, so that’s why I’m here.  Don’t ask me about me though-if you want to know about me, view my profile dealy-bobber.  There you will recieve any and all information I am willing to put “out there”.

Speaking of “out there” (Now I’m seguaying like a 90s brick wall comic!) you ever notice how much crap there is on tv that you just look at and think to yourself-THESE PEOPLE MUST BE JOKING (*or crazy,**or crazy people telling a joke that is, in actuality, not funny but you have to laugh anyway because it’s not polite to make crazy people cry-remember that kids it’s a life lesson for all of us)?

TLC has this whole passel (+10 points for using “passel” in a sentance!) of shows that are intrinsically related (oooooh yeah! +20 points for using (and misspelling) an SAT word) in that they are all basically the same show with different hosts.  Appearantly they are all very popular-”What Not to Wear” and “Ten Years Younger” stand out as especially brain-cell-killing.  These people seriously go around, spend their time, and GET PAID to tell people that they are ugly and then discuss “lines that work for their body type”!  I only know one person in real life that actually gives a S*&T about that stuff, and I can tell you  she’s about as deep as a puddle of spit, with the IQ of a potato chip, and FREAKING DRIVES ME CRAZY.  I give you, my mother in law people. 

OH YES.  She tries to find things in common with me (Commendable.  I didn’t say she was mean, I said she was  “special” in the stupid way.  In fact, if either of us is mean, it’s definately me because she’s trying to be nice to me and yet I continue to find her unnerving.  Yep.  I’m a big fat meanie.  Oh well.) and yet fails miserably because the only thing she is into is fashion, about which I really don’t give a ducks butt about.  Every time she starts discussing tapered pants my eyes start rolling into the back of my head.

She’s asked me like a million times what my “personal style” is, and I’ve told her-my personal style is not to be naked.  And to wear a lot of black.  That’s about it.  (Not because I’m goth or anything but because I pretty much look bad in every color on the planet, and black is slimming to boot.)  And yet she seems facinated by trying to pin me down to a “look”.  I think it is her form of attempting to bond with me, but I just can’t bond over the “great leg warmer debate.”

And that’s why I don’t watch TLC.