MB5 slept like a champ yesterday. All day. Yeah, he was then awake until 5am this morning. Insert face cracking yawn here.

MD is off getting my van inspected for me. He’s then headed to the grocery store. Then the hardware store. Then the Dollar Store. It would seem I didn’t run one single errand this past week. Poor guy.

It’s going to be 60 degrees here today, so we plan on spending it outside. As soon as he gets home that is. And as soon as we put away the shit he buys. And after I get cleaned up. Although I need to wake up first or I might drown in in the tub. I’m thinking it might be evening before we get out to enjoy the day.

Blogroll is now located here —->>> Moody Reads.

Just got too damn big.

Is there a greater feeling than waking up and realizing that it’s Friday? It’s Shave Day around here. You figure it out.

Fedex guy just showed up and apologized. The shipping label had my correct address – he just fucked up. I smiled and told him it was ok. Fine hunk of man meat like that shouldn’t have to worry his purdy little ass head about things such as correct deliveries. Hey, it’s Friday and the motor’s running.

You know that feeling of panic you get when you can’t remember if you wiped out your stash of snacks the night before and there might be nothing left to eat for breakfast except for … breakfast? No? Never mind.

I like my marshmallow peeps stale. I must remind people of that every year. Next person that devours one of my hard bunnies is going to pay dearly.

How come the ones that never notice it’s clean are the first ones to bitch when it’s dirty?

Still not sure what’s the matter with my burner, but I’m sick of messing with it. Stupid ass thing is causing all sorts of problems with my computer, and I’m going to end up crashing this bitch and losing everything. I saved what I needed. The rest can kiss my ass.

I should be in bed. I really should. 7 hours of sleep the past two nights makes for one cranky Ang. As soon as this last cd is done, I’m going. Wee one is sleeping like a swaying angel in that beautiful contraption, and I should catch the shut eye while I can. Now to decide whether to take him out of it or not.

I’m thinking not.

I just might let him live keep him in that bitch forever do a two handed happy dance.

I drove by my swing 3 times today. I ran MB5 to the doc’s awhile ago, and on my 4th drive-by – I stopped the van and grabbed the fucking thing.

Since he’s been in it for almost 30 minutes now without a peep – I’d say it’d be worth the jail time for stealing my own shit.

Swing I ordered is sitting on some porch down the street. I can see the sonofabitch from here. 5 houses down. Fedex knows about the screwup and said they will get it corrected. Should have it here by 7pm.

Huh? I could walk over and grab the bitch and be home in 2 minutes flat. Nope. Not allowed. I have to wait on the idiot who can’t read to come back later on today and bring it to me. I get to just sit here, bounce this sick wee one, and gaze longingly at my salvation down the block.

Nice.

MB5 sounds horrible. Still no fever or any other symptoms, but this congestion is scary as hell all the same. He’s much too little to be sick like this. I’ve never had a sick wee one before. I don’t like it. He’s been up until 2am the past two nights. I’d give up my cheezits for a nap.

MD hasn’t been told for sure, but odds are looking pretty good about the promotion. A little birdie relayed a round table discussion about the position, and supposedly, the job is his. I’m still not holding my breath about it, and I hope he isn’t either – but I hope it’s true. Not for the money – I want him to have it because he deserves it. Besides, he was already told yesterday that he’s getting a raise next week. Not sure how much, but it was nice to hear.

Been spending the past few days holding MB5 and organizing my computer files. Not much else to do one handed. I went to do backups though, and my burner kept freezing. Ain’t it the luck. Stupid ass thing.

Time to clean up while wee one sleeps.

I feel really busy, but I haven’t accomplished much. The wee one is congested now, and it just makes his mood worse. Won’t even calm down when I hold him. The other littles ones are congested and cough-y. Happy times.

My mind is in constant motion again. So much for the calm – albeit stupid – days of pregnancy brain. I can’t shut it off lately. I dream about getting shit done. Around the house and online.

And now it seems that even my nights are screwed, as MB5 just opened his eyes and his mouth. Shit.

Weekend was not nearly long enough. Got a lot accomplished though.

Wee one still fusses all day long. It’s driving me batty. Other kiddos were very easy going and calm. He is starting to have mellow moods during the day, where he is content to just be held and talked to – but not many. He thinks I’m his personal binky, and I can’t get shit done. I ordered a swing (Yes, I ordered it online – YOU go shopping with 6 kid) I hope it works – even for 10 minutes out of the day.

He is smiling a lot now though. And making those heart melting baby noises. And he sleeps damn near all night, so I have a lot to be thankful for as well.

Weather has been gorgeous. Trees are already sprouting buds, and I saw today that my roses and lawn are starting to green up. Not long now folks. Thank gawd. I need to get outside and breathe.

Post-partum checkup tomorrow. Baby checkup tomorrow. Car inspection tomorrow. Oh how I hate tomorrow.

My pal Nancy installed a gallery for me, but I have to decide how I want to handle it before I use it. In the meantime, I just had to post this one.
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Kids are gone with dad dropping everyone back off at their houses. Just me and the infant and a houseful of music. Messes are already cleaned up. Plans have been made with friends for a night of spades. Cheezits are stocked. MD got up early and knocked out his DagwoodDuties, and is headed to the grocery store on his way home.

I adore the weekends.

I need to learn to ask questions. Lots of questions. I need to learn to say no once in awhile. I need to find out who is passing my name around for these odd jobs, thank them, and then kick them in the throat.

I just agreed to put together more fucking newsletters. I hate newsletters, but she was paying pretty well. Too well. It took me an hour to process the bits and pieces of the conversation after talking to her. I hope she meant only her region, and not the entire county. Holy shit please let it not be the entire county.

She’s not answering the phone now. My mind tells me she’s at lunch. My gut tells me she’s sitting there watching the caller id pissing herself with laughter.

My baby boy is 13 today. Damn. Where does the time go? He’s having 5 of his friends over tomorrow night. All good kids, but still. Think I better buy more Motrin today.

The high today is 60, and I refuse to waste it by sitting in this house. I’m going to run every errand I can think of, and finish the day at the park.

Sure wish those extra arms I ordered would have come in.

Filthy tramp still hasn’t called me. I dunno, maybe I heard her wrong. Possible. I knew this wasn’t a regular thing, but she made it sound like Wednesdays were the day they needed someone. I could give two shits either way – I just want a heads up if she needs me or not. I’d rather the not.

I’m about to tell this idiot owner what she can do with her big ass headache of a site too. I don’t expect her to understand how the site works. I don’t expect her to understand how the software works. But I do expect her to fucking listen to me and follow my advice on matters that she knows nothing about. Very irritating to work for a tightwad who used up her grey matter long ago.

These odd jobs are going to be the death of me.

Nothing chaps my ass more than people people who don’t show up when they are supposed to. Use that there telephone-y contraption, ya dipshit. Let me fucking know that I didn’t have to get up at the asscrack of dawn this morning to watch your child. My children are still sleeping. I could still be sleeping.

Bitch.

New bedding for everyone. Bunk beds + Needy infant = All fucking day to make beds. Looks nice regardless. For now. Will never be as tightly made as they are right this moment, ’cause I sure as hell am never doing it again.

Evanescence cd as valentine gift. And what a gift it is. Her voice. That sound. The combination. Nice. Very nice.

Typing one handed really sucks.

I’m going to start posting more about our past. I’ve been thinking lately about this journal, and what a rare opportunity it could be if I saved it for my children to read when they’re older. I wasn’t comfortable with the idea at first, but it’s starting to grow on me.

Maybe because I took a long hard look at MB1 this weekend, and realized just how old he is. How mature he’s become. Becoming. Less and less my baby boy – more and more a young man who will very soon be making his own choices in life. I want him to know why I made the choices I did. Choices in the past, and ones yet to be made.

I want him and his siblings to know who I am. Who I really am – or was. Whatever the case may be. Want them to see me for more than just their mom. Want them to know just how much I love them – in case I’m really fucking things up here in the real world. To know how proud I am of them – in case I don’t say it enough.

I want them to read about our marriage. How it came to be, how it evolved, and how it survived. I want them to read about our mistakes. I want to put our memories to print and hope it sparks a flashback 20 years from now and puts a smile on their face as they remember that time we …

I have no idea how long I’ll keep this blog. I’d like it to be around long enough for the younger ones to grow a bit so that they may read about themselves as well, but we’ll see what happens I guess.

Perhaps I should check into GrumpyGranny.com just in case.

how I felt that day when I came downstairs to see the ambulance on the lawn. There was an ache in my stomach long before I heard the whispers.

It was Pvt SoAndSo … MM’s friend. He just collapsed on the floor.

I found out later that he had walking pneumonia. I tried to visit him at the hospital, but they wouldn’t allow me up to see him. I wasn’t family. Like he had family there in AIT. Like any of us did. We were each other’s family – for a little while anyway.

We were only friends then, but I sure as hell missed his face in class. I missed his laugh at chow. I missed not feeling his warmth when he would let me to scoot in front of him in line. My heart was heavy those nights at the smoke break area without him to talk to. If a student missed three days of class they were recycled to the next one, and that thought suffocated me. He had to have his ass back in class by 1 o’clock on Wednesday to stay with our group.

After lunch on that last day, I sat around with our friends. We were all pretty upset at the idea of not finishing together. For those people who’ve never had the absolute pleasure of serving in the military, it’s hard to convey the strength of the friendships made there. Losing him from our class was a huge blow. I hung my head, mindlessly tapped ashes into the dirt, and said it’d take a miracle to keep him with us at this point.

Then pick up your purdy little head and witness a miracle.

I looked up to see Pvt SoAndSo sauntering his ass across the street – walking toward us. He was pale, but smiling. I stood up and smiled, and he walked right on over and took me in his arms – for the first time. I allowed myself to be taken – surprising even myself. Later that night, as we walked around the barracks to head upstairs for lights out, he pulled me aside and kissed me. I don’t remember walking to my room after that, but I will never forget the told-ya-so smirk on my roommate’s face as she hit the lights.

That was February 14, 1990. Exactly one month after laying eyes on him for the first time. We were married a month and a half later.

We’re still here 14 years down the road. And he still makes me smile.

New skin isn’t completely finished, but that’s as good as it’s going to get for awhile. I still can’t get the comments to skin, but that task exceeds my patience level right now.

That big software modification job I did awhile ago is back to bite me in the ass. Site was sold to another company, and it now needs to be completely redone. Lucky me. So very glad they passed my name along to the new folks. Obviously someone thinks my mind needs a good snapping. The thought of working on it makes me sick to my stomach – hence the new skin. That there’s a fiddle fuck skin. Made while I was fiddle fucking around trying to avoid working on it.

I’m safe for now anyhow. I toasted something moving the account, and now nothing works. Either my angel agrees to let me contract her mind for some help, or the new folks get their site handed back to them in chunks. Big worthless fucking chunks of code. Why does that make me giggle?

Kids have school tomorrow. They must be the only ones in the nation. Make up days, gotta lub ‘em. School district snatched back every day off they had the rest of the year to make up those snow days. Half days too. And then they tacked on another week at the end of the school year for the final slap in the face. Kids have been mourning the loss of their spring break all weekend.

Aside from the site putting me in a foul ass mood, I was in a royal funk thinking I had to send the new camera back. The pics were shitty and grainy and out of focus, but all is well now after I reset it. Warning – leave the factory defaults the hell alone unless you know what you are doing. Lesson learned.

Started working on a new skin last night at 1am. I wouldn’t suggest starting a project like that at 1am.

It’s not done. It’s not even close to being done. And I won’t have time to get it done for few days.

But At least my brain is finally starting to feel alive again.

Pics of the wee one….
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I love getting shit in the mail. I love it even more when it’s for me. Yes, my camera has arrived. Whooodeehooo.

Batteries are charging. Manual has been read and memorized. I am hot to trot to start snapping. I snagged a buttload of regular batteries to blow through until the others are charged. Prepare to be bombarded.

Oh yeah – must protect the family…. hmmmmm

Screw it – I’ll post the pics and delete them later.

I don’t respond to all the comments and emails that I get. I feel like an ass about that. But mostly it’s because there’s nothing else left to say. I might read them and nod or smile or laugh or do a little right the fuck on jig in my slippers, but it’s not likely that I’ll start sending responses like that anytime soon.

And sometimes, well sometimes I have plenty I want to say – but I don’t know how. Times when my heart wants to respond, but cannot translate it into words. Times like now …

I’ve carried this comment around with me for two days now. My mind is playing this tinktinktink theme music in the background of my life, while I try to figure out just exactly what I want to say to her – or to any of the military families that sacrifice daily for me and my children. There just aren’t words to let them know how truly thankful I am.

But I am Tink. And I hope with every ounce of my being that your husband is home safe and soon. My thoughts are with you both. So is my love.

Thanks to the world’s biggest sweetheart, my family’s real names have been replaced through-out the entire blog. Took about 5 seconds. Section called Search and Replace… who knew? Not me, that’s for sure. Sets my mind at ease though about being recognized.

Now even I don’t know who the fuck I’m talking about.

What’s the best newsreader?

Damn. When you get up earlier than usual to get going on your day, you can accomplish quite a bit in record time. MB5 (that’s moodyboy#5 – thanks turtlemama) is napping in his car seat, MG is playing with the baby I’m watching, and MB4 is supervising their play while watching NickJr.

And I’m bored shitless.

I’m such a wuss sometimes. Friend of my aunt asked if I was interested in watching her granddaughter one day a week. Uhhhmmmm – not really. So what do I say? I guess I could help you out until you find someone. Geezus. I’m really not that nice of a person. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me lately.

They came over today. Cute kiddo. Big kiddo. 6 months old, and wearing the same size as Ba…hmmmm….what do I call her now….B? S?….nah, too easy to figure out….Girl?…yes, girl…which we will shorten to G for my non-typing lazy ass… so, she wears the same size as G. [yuck] She seemed pretty mellow though. I hope so. The wee one is pretty much a permanent fixture in my arms. Had she been the type that needed carried all day – it would have been a big fat no right there. Oh well, it’s only one damn day a week. But gee – whatever shall I spend my fat $20 a week paycheck from it on? Gas money I guess.

I also wanted to take a sec and thank everyone who left a comment or sent in an email the past two days. Some really kind and decent people out there, and I’m glad I was given the chance to meet you all.

Now I must head to bed. Need to be rested for my joyous day of babysitting tomorrow.

Gawd.

I just don’t think I can do the password protection thingy. My aim in life is to eliminate hassle, not create more. I might as well grab a notebook and get to scribbling if I’m going to do that. And besides – how would I ever really know who the hell was requesting the login info? How could I ever be certain it wasn’t the asshole anyway? I couldn’t. And I especially hate the idea of never meeting any more new faces. I have a need to read that grows by the day, and new faces bring new links.

I still want to redo a few things to better protect my family though, so I think names are on their way out. Haven’t decided what the hell I’m going to call everyone yet, but I’ll figure out something.

That would mean going back through every entry and stripping it down, and I’m fine with that. While I’m there, I’ll double check to make sure I haven’t personally named anyone who had the starring role in an online ass chewing. And while I’ll still post pics of the wee one, I might limit shots of everyone else.

As for how I conduct myself here? I don’t think I can change that. Wouldn’t know how to anyway. And it damn sure wouldn’t be the therapy it is if I had to. So I’m not. I’ll try my best to keep everyone from finding out the identity of the fucking idiots in my life, but I refuse to stop bitching about them.

While I sit here and whine about protecting my thoughts, Michele is having a discussion on raising and protecting our children in this day and age.

I know I’ve posted about this subject too much already, but the age old argument of just how many stranger abductions there are every year bothers the shit out of me.

A person can fiddle with statistics all day long. You can chop them up and spit the numbers out to make anything work to your favor. And the internet doesn’t help matters any. For every expert who claims the sky is blue, there’s another one with documented evidence to support that’s it green. Forget all of that shit.

When my cousin was abducted/murdered, the detective mentioned that there were over 300 sexual predators living in town. Think about that for a second. That wasn’t the total number of sexual offenders – just the predators. And there’s a very real difference between the two. And those were only the ones they knew about. When you consider that the town size was around 70K people, that figure starts to get scarier. When you consider that was over 20 years ago – back when things were safe, that figure incites a terror that could suffocate a parent.

Take that 300 as a ballpark figure if you want. Take it and ignore it if you want. Take it and twist it and distort it until you arrive at a number that helps you sleep at night if you want. But fucking around with figures and sticking your head in the sand is not going to stop them from snatching your child. Regardless of whether you think predators are a real threat to your child or not – you should still do everything in your power to protect your babies.

To me? That figure means nothing. I’m more interested in the 12 sexual predators that are known to live in my tiny ass town. A town of about 4500 people. A town that takes literally minutes to pass through. A town where you know everyone – or you think you do anyway. That number haunts my dreams.

That said – we still have to give in to our children’s need for independence at some point. I give in slowly – very slowly. I used to drive my kids to school. When we moved to Hicksville USA, they begged me to let them walk. I gave in the second year, but only if certain conditions were met. They had to remain in a group of no less than 5, they had to stay on the main path, and they had to walk on the correct side of the road (so that a car couldn’t sneak up on them from behind). I needed to know that they were going to follow certain rules whether I was present or not. I realize that following rules won’t stop a predator from entering the picture, but it will lower the odds tremendously.

Walking quickly lost its charm when the weather turned cold, and they soon were asking to ride the bus with their friends. Again, I agreed. They are still riding the bus – but I watch them get on and off that bus every day – and it stops right in front of my house.

People can laugh and point fingers and call me a smothering whack job all they want – the few seconds it takes to watch my child enter a safe zone could eliminate years of torment wishing that I had.

Been thinking about this all night. Trying to work a solution out in my head.

I don’t want to shut this down and start over the smart way. Especially since I just renewed the damn domain. I don’t want to delete it all and start over here either. Would feel like I was actually deleting my past. I’ve been toying with the password idea, but that requires a lot of thinking through jazz.

I might regret doing this, given my stage fright meltdown about a month ago – but just who is here reading this drivel? Is it going to be a major pain in the ass to lock it down with a password? I think so. Since I now spend 23 hours of the day with only one hand, sending the info out to just 20 people could take 47 days. And the thought of never meeting anyone new really sucks. That’s how I find new reads.

And by the way, I am a read-er. I am very rarely a comment-er. My blogroll may appear small, but there are over 100 blogs in my favorites. I just don’t know how to add them all without turning my blogroll into a complete clusterfuck. I just might pop the few bucks to buy a newsreader and get rid of my blogroll altogether. But that’s neither here nor there, and it’s not getting this shit figured out. I need to think.

Going through damn near 800 entries is not so fun. Password protection is not so fun. Watching what I say is a big stinky pile of shit.

I’m going to let Mr Seger turn my pages into relaxation land. My head hurts thinking about this.

Found out today that a friend of mine found my blog awhile back. (Hiya darlin’) I don’t care that she found it, but I am concerned that it was found. Said she was reading someone else’s blog, and followed my link on over. And that she knew it was me pretty damn quick. Like I said, I don’t care that she’s ‘here’, but it raises the question of who else is here…lurking….reading….

That gives me the fucking willies.

I know I’ve been rather open here. I know I should have taken more care to tone down the specifics of my life. I know that I have led myself into this situation. I just don’t know how to fix it now. Not even sure what I need to fix.

I can’t change who I am. I can’t change what I write about – I don’t want to. And honestly, anyone that knows me wouldn’t be the slightest bit surprised to read damn near 95% of these posts anyway – but still.

I have written about people that I don’t want hurt. If they were to find this, figure out who I am, and take a stroll through the archives – chances are, they are going to recognize themselves as the subject of a moody bitchfest. And while I am not one to talk trash behind someone’s back – I do handle things a bit more … tactfully when I address the issue in real life. My blog is for my inner feelings – no kid gloves. Where I might suggest financial planning to a friend for her money woes, I’m going to rip her non-budgeting ass a new one right here when I get a chance. Big difference, and one that would be felt if she were to ever read this.

I also don’t like the thought that certain assholes could be here. Assholes that I have mentioned, and don’t want in my life – in any way, shape, or form. Assholes that used to delight in stalking my every move in the past. Assholes that I hope have moved on. I don’t want him here, reading about my life and my kids, and even the chance that he could be makes me violently ill.

I don’t want my family to find this. I like having a place to mentally horse whip them when they infuriate and frustrate me. I need that release.

So, what do I do? Go back through every damn post and strip it of all personal information? Change names back to initials? Learn to tone it down and bland it out so that no one can ever put two and two together? Or do I say fuck it, delete the handful of entries that could crush someone’s feelings, and say to hell with the rest? Let ‘em find me?

How do you handle it? How should I?

I am now convinced without a doubt that if you have extra money laying around – you should spend that shit. Spend it on HoHos and yard flamingos if you have to – but just get it out of your hands as fast as possible.

Because when you sock it away like a grownup, mulling over whether you should bank it for a house or go ahead and get that new computer table you need – your truck’s fuel pump is going to keel the fuck over and die on you.

Yeah yeah I know. At least we have the money to fix it. Still doesn’t make me all yippy skippy about the whole thing. Dammit.

In a wonderful mood today.

MD was off Friday, so we redid the boys’ room. Bought them new bedroom furniture and got everything set up this past weekend. Bedding should be here this week. Finally enough dressers to hold all of our clothes – which means no more switching out seasonal clothes twice a year.

Received MD’s VA Loan certificate today in the mail. We’ve waited so long to be able to buy our first home. Wanted it to be perfect. The time is almost here, and I can’t get the smile to leave my face this morning. My van payment is the last thing to pay off, and that happens this summer. Then nothing to do but save save save and pray that nothing major pops up to snatch the money away. And that the van still goes strong after it passes into that magical land of paid off.

MD bought me a digital camera. I wasn’t going to spend the money, but I am thrilled to death that he did. Should be here this week. Beware of upcoming cuddly baby pics. I bought him a new car stereo for his birthday next month. His died a few months ago. He’ll be happy.

Gifts I ordered for MB1 are starting to trickle in. Should be a good birthday. For him anyway. I’m having a hard time with him growing up.

The wee-est one turned a month old yesterday, and my oldest is turning 13 in 10 days. Time flies by so unbelievably fast.

Dear Tide:

A relieved menopausal wife

MD came home early from work yesterday because of the snowstorm. He immediately went to work on the driveway and sidewalk. Then he waved to me, grabbed the shovel, and ran out to the back yard with the boys.

They worked to create this monstrous snow pile, and then made an igloo out of it. Process took awhile, as there were frequent breaks for snowball fights and snow angels and genuine snow cones. When he finally came inside, there was a smile frozen on his face.

I watched him hop around trying to free himself of the wet clothes, and I wondered if he realized how incredibly attractive the sight of a man playing with his children is to a woman.

Or maybe I’m just turning into a dirty old broad.

It destroyed me to read this today, but I am glad that the waiting and wondering is over for her family. It’s difficult to find closure when the children are never found. Hard enough to find it when they are.

My thoughts are with them all.

Heard the kids say they were headed downstairs to look for a snack. So, I did what any good mother would do.

I hid the cheez-its under my pillow.

More snow. Lots of it. No school. Oh the joy.

I have found a way to get MB5 to sleep more than 5 minutes at a time during the day, AND win the worst mom of the year award at the same time … by letting him sleep in his car seat.

He was fussing yesterday while I was trying to get lunch served, so I took a few soft blankies and draped them over his car seat. Plopped him in it, then brought it out to the kitchen so he could watch me, thinking that might calm him down. Instead, he konked out and slept for two hours straight.

Later on, I tried it again when it was time to fix dinner. Another two hour nap. I was able to cook dinner, eat it, and clean up afterward. Truly a reason to celebrate here lately. Sure as hell beats the nervous breakdown I usually have around dinner time these days.

Whatever works, right?

Sitter is all lined up for MD and I to go out here in a week or two. First time out on a ‘date’ in damn near 4 years.

It’s cold and snowy – and I hate being cold, so no outside activities like ice skating and shit. There’s nothing to do in this town – no jazz clubs, no comedy clubs, nada. I hate movies. MD hates bars/nightclubs so getting lit up and groping each other in the corner booth is out.

What the hell do we do? Eat a steak and head home? Help me out with ideas, would ya? He keeps asking me every night what we’re doing.

I think James jinxed me …

I had to put my boots on today. Dammit.

Thought I had it all covered. I was wrong. I didn’t check to see how many diapers MG had left, and that’s one thing I can’t exactly do without until MD gets home. And I wasn’t about to put MB5’s cloth ones on her. Washing out newborn shit is one thing, but toddler shit is a whole new ballgame.

Was no sense in just grabbing diapers, so I did my regular errands. I was really starting to get stressed thinking about handling all 3, but they behaved perfectly. MB4 is such a little helper these days. He helped MG in and out of her car seat, and helped me push both carts around the stores.

Now that I am home, I’m feeling rather recharged and pleased with myself for not having a nervous breakdown. Think I’ll go bake something and add another pound or so of assfat.

It wasn’t easy, but I think I’ve managed to eliminate every reason to leave the house this week.

It’s just too fucking cold to take my slippers off.

My life is pretty simple right now – hold baby so he’ll sleep, feed baby so he won’t scream, bathe baby so he won’t chafe from being a pissing machine, change baby because he’s a shitting machine – so there’s not much to write about.

Of course, I still have plenty to bitch about…

I want this on again off again after-baby period to stop. RightFuckingNow. And take these sonofabitchin’ cramps with ya. Yeah, I said period. Sue me.

I want the fucking losers whose taxes I did for free to shut their gawddamn mouths and stop bitching about how little they are receiving. When someone tells you that your refund is almost $6000 – be a good little bitch and count your blessings prickface. Some of us will never see that much. Some of us would actually use that money responsibly. Some of us wouldn’t blow it again this year on the first shiny new toys that catch our eye. Grow the fuck up already.

I want these night sweats to stop. I’m tired of laying out extra bedding, pillows, and clothes every night to change into after I morph into sweaty PigBitch around 1am.

I want my stupid sleepy ass to remember to point MB5’s pisser down when putting on his diaper at 3am so I don’t wake up at 5am to find that yet another change of bedding/clothes is needed.

I want to know why sheet sets cost so much fucking money.

I want the other computer to stop popping on by itself – scaring the begeezus out of me.

I want this nagging headache to pack up and leave me alone.

I want my Cheezit box to hop out of the trash, magically refill itself, and start chucking them bitches one by one into my mouth so I don’t have cheese dust on my fingers while trying to type.

I want to find my off button so I can get to sleep.

Only one reason a person would wear boobie jewelry like that.

Accident my ass…

No snowstorm as of yet, but they closed school anyway. How kind of them. Now I need to find some rope and muzzles to keep them from ripping each other’s throats out today.

Maybe we’ll do their scrapbooks. I bought some cheapo photo albums from the dollar store the other day. Nothing fancy, but they’ll work for this. Should kill a few hours today.

Older boys were gone just about all weekend. Spent their nights elsewhere. Fine by me, this weather has us all foaming at the mouth. We needed a break from each other.

Supposed to have a major snowstorm, but so far – it ain’t that impressive. My poor husband has spent his day watching the skies and the radar – almost willing that shit to fall. Said he’d gladly get up an hour earlier to shovel and crawl to work if he could just see a foot of snow for the first time in his life. He must really feel deprived from his childhood in Florida. My Missouri born ass is not so thrilled about the idea. I’m going batshit stuck in this house as it is.

MB5 smiled at MD today. Whether it was a true smile matters not. He was trying to get those little hands to work – as if to touch daddy’s face, and making these cute little sighing noises. Then he smiled. I sure as hell wished he’d learn to sleep more than 10 minutes without a boob nearby, but he sure is a fun one to have around.

Which reminds me that my ass needs to head to bed right now. No more stalling. This is the only time his sleep stretches provide shut-eye for me – and I better not let it slip by.