Spilt Milk...

Carson. Gets. On. My. Nerves. ALOT.

Today I used the electric pump (hate it--hardly ever use it--it's a pain), hoping I could pump some milk to take to Galveston next weekend. That way maybe *I* could enjoy myself a little at the reception (MARGARITA MACHINE!)... I pumped 6 oz in , like, 7 minutes. I was so proud of that milk! So I unhooked all the tubes/wires (another reason I hate the pump) and took them to the kitchen to rinse out--leaving the big ole bottle of milk on the end table (I pumped in the recliner). BIG mistake. I walked right back into the living room to get the bottle and it was...GONE. Carson was not in the room. I called for him. and called. Then I went looking. I found the (empty) bottle in my bed...he had opened it and poured it all over my bed.

I haven't been that mad/sad/deflated in a loooong time. I literally felt like he had poured out a bottle of GOLD down the toliet. And the fact that he kept giggling over it just enraged me more. I actually had tears in my eyes. And I really wanted to BEAT him. But I didn't. Not this time.

He had better be glad I love him. ALOT. I really need that margarita now...

Bigger and Bigger...

Today was Caden's 2 month check up. He's getting so big. 13# 14oz and 24" long! 3 shots, too. He's a grumpy fellow now. Fever and all. But before he got cranky I was able to go to the mall and get my haircut (which I love) and a few new outfits to wear to the wedding on the Coast (July 9th). Since having Caden *I* feel big too...I now weigh 150lbs. I can remember when I first went in for my 2nd PG (with Claudia) and I weighed 130. So I had to debate buying new clothes in *this* size or waiting til I lost weight, but I am tired of wearing the 3 ugly/cheap outfits I have. So, I went and bought a few things NOW. And I even bought a size TEN skirt--surely it was mis sized? (and 2 pairs of size 12 pants)!! Now I won't feel like a W*al Mart crack whore...which is how I felt in those other costumes...er, clothes. haha.

Earlier Claudia needed my help: "Mama! Come wipe me--I pooped. And a bit of it looks like an EAGLE!!" That girl is tooo funny.

You Need A Shower...

Today I went to my bf (J's) baby shower. She is due in like 5 weeks.A bunch of "girls" she goes to church with were throwing the shower. What a group of b*tches. There I sat in my jeans capris (maternity too--I'm still tooooo fat for my regular ole stuff), my maternity shirt (need that extra fabric to cover the stretchy band of maternity material) and my nasty feet (not really *nasty*....Just not...pedicured). And every single biatch there was dressed to the 9's...Well, not dressy/dressy. but very richy casual. Not a single T*arget flip flop or Wa*lMart skirt in sight. And every single sandaled toe was french manicured!!! I am *not* kidding either. I felt like a hobo ho. And they weren'y very christian-like either. Not one came up and introduced themselves. AmI jealous? Definatey. Felt really left out--my first time with real grown ups in a long time and no one wants to play with me.

Oh, J got alllllllllot of richy stuff too (and my W*alMart gifts)!!

Back In The Day...

I can remember babysitting alot as a young whipper snapper. I mean ALOT. I started when I was about about 13. And I would clean too... ya know, do the dishes piled up in the sink and straighten up the kiddies rooms... And got paid like $1 per hour. And I can remember the parents having to wake my butt up, 'cause I'd fall asleep on the couch every single time (after watching some rated R movie on their HBO...haha).

But MP (short for MoonPie....nm for the ole DH), is having a FIT because Calie, who is 14 for gosh darn sakes, was babysitting last night. In the DARK, oh my, all by her lonesome (geez). She was watching a friends kids and they live like... 2 miles away. True, we do live in the boonies, out in "the woods". And there aren't any little ole grannies that live next door that she could run to...but *I* am only 2 miles away--and I called her like every 45 minutes to check on her. MP is convinced that some pedophile is lurking in the bushes and is watching Calie's every move...just waiting for her to (gasp) go BABYSITTING! She didn't get home until 12:45AM. I'll admit I was a little miffed over that, since "E" said they would be home by 11PM or so...I guess she FORGOT that I am bone ass tired and have an 8 week old baby that keeps me up half the night...then I had to stay up until Calie got home (late).

At breakfast MP said that Calie's babysitting days were OVER if she was going to come home that late again. So, IF she gets to babysit it will almost *have* to be here, at home. Which means... my 2 brats + 2 more brats = one CRAZY, swearing ME. Because do you *really* think that Calie will watch her 2? And do you think my 2 will let hers be? ohhhh nooooo, there will be fighting and biting and pushing and shoving and blood shed over toys. And I will be screaming...my breastmilk curdling... It will NOT be purdy.

Why can't it be like back in the day? Why can't she babysit. At THEIR house? For a measly $2 per hour...and eat THEIR food (haha). And the kids can tear up THEIR house?

And So It Begins...

At only 9AM and I can't get the smell of shit off my hands. Carson has pooped in his pants AGAIN. About 3 minutes *after* I asked, "Carson, do you need to poop?". gawd. How come, no matter HOW careful I am, do I always get *some* on me??? And Why, O Lord, does the smell dive deep into my skin and stay there no matter how many times or with whatever antibacterial/perfumed soap I scrub my skin raw!? And most importantly, WHY do I insist on putting my hand up to my nose and sniffing every 2/3 minutes to see if the smell has left of it's own free will!? Wonder what the rest of the day will bring? Can hardly wait! not.