The Road Trip

The Road Trip is much like Child Birth. How? I will get to that, but first let's talk about why we do it. Road trips always sound like fun on paper. Getting some good family time in the car, seeing new things, singing songs and enjoying the fresh air...  Just you and the open road, right? No. Not right. It is a total lie.

Going on a road trip with large family is sometimes more work than it's worth. Going on a road trip with a large family full of toddlers is 100% more work than it is worth. There are a few reasons why I know for a fact this statement is true. As all moms know, the road trip starts a few days before with the packing. I wouldn't even consider it a road trip. It's basically just a small moving experience. With a large family, and with small children; you basically bring everything you own and relocate it to a new destination for a few days. Then you re-pack ALL your belongings and relocate them back to your own house and do laundry for 5 days straight just to catch up. With little ones, it's not like you just toss some outfits in a bag and call it a day. No. You bring everything they own in case they pee on something. I am talking: cuppies, diapers, formula, baby food, baby chairs, special blankets/stuffed animals, the entire toy box, the list goes on.

Once you have packed the essentials for basic survival. You will pack all the things that you need to stay mentally sane for the remainder of the trip. Usually, I start with the toy box. There is nothing worse than a crew if bored toddlers and preschoolers in the car for 8 hours. So in order to avoid that from happening, the entire toy box must come. I also usually get them some coloring things as well to keep them occupied. Luckily, they are awesome listeners and NEVER color on the van seats... right. The only wonderful thing about this situation is this: it will be the only time you can tie down your children legally for 8 hours and not have to chase them. So, after our multicolored- newly decorated van is loaded up we head down the road and onto the new phase of the trip.

Phase two in the torcher trip: Questions! They ask a million times when we will be there, they ask when we will eat, they ask if they can go potty, they ask where we are, they ask, and ask, and ask. Now, don't get me wrong I totally understand their excitement and joy. But that doesn't mean it doesn't drive me completely bat shit crazy. 

Phase three: Once they get bored with all the questions they will go on to the boredom. Their carload of toys are booooooring mom! What do they do when they are bored? They fight and argue. Let's face it by hour 8 we are all just trying not to explode.... or maybe that's just me? What should be a 6 hour car ride will always take an extra 2 hours. I have calculated it's about an extra 30 minutes per kid, at least.

Once we arrive at the destination, we have to un-pack all 8 million belongings that we have brought with us. Normal families bring a few bags and maybe a baby seat. Our family takes over where we are staying. It literally looks like we have moved in and plan to stay the year. It takes 2-3 days just to unpack and find all the things we need, and by then it's time to pack up and leave!

So, leaving and headed home is always a worse ride. Mainly because all you are going home to is the endless amount of laundry and reorganization. Going on a road trip is like poking yourself with a safety-pin repeatedly for 8 hours straight. I don't know why the government even messes around with prisons, just trap someone in my car on an 8 hour road trip and they would never commit a crime again.

Now how is The Road Trip like Child Birth, you ask? Because for some insane unnatural reason, we will eventually do it again. Maybe we will even be excited about it! Here is the twisted part: It may even be our own idea. That is how The Road Trip is like Child Birth.

The One-Uppers

The Online One-Upper

The one-upper breed of mother is one of the most irritating creatures on the planet. They are the real life drama lamas of motherhood and they aim to get under your skin. In the mommy club, those are the awkward moms everyone makes fun of for being full of lies. It is fairly easy to find these mothers. They mainly focus their craziness on social websites such as Facebook. You know that friend you have that posts bizarre pictures that look entirely impossible? They post posed pictures of thier 5 month old standing and walking the toy across the room? The 4 month old sitting upright... the 4 month old in the crawling position. Basically if you can think of a milestone, take a picture of your baby doing that milestone one to two months in advance, then gloat about how awesome and "advanced" they are 24/7. Especially gloat to other moms who have children roughly around said baby's age. All of this will give you an Online One-Upper.

 

The In-Person One-Upper

These in-person one-uppers are easy to find hanging around the bigger city park. (Tip: You want to meet nice moms? Go to your neighborhood park... the crazy moms are at the bigger city park.) The in person one-upper spends the time talking with you in a weird way. Instead of being friendly and wanting to get along, they say socially awkward things. For example, if any topic of nursing, diapers, or dietary food comes up... it’s all over. This mom gloats about how she is still nursing her 15 year old, cloth diapers ONLY (consider yourself lucky if she doesn't go into detail about the brands. oy), and they don't drink cow’s milk. Ever. (Do not even ask why, it is mind numbing).  The one upper doesn't really care about being organic, making things homemade, or cloth diapering to save the environment. They do these things for the only purpose of getting to say, "Yeah I do that", simply because it’s "in".  These moms make it a point to put the other mom in a position of lesser than. The only real thing to look out for with these moms is a long friendship. I have found with one-uppers, there is always a strange wall up between them and the friendship. It’s always a game of one upping and fake facade. Not to be a negative Nancy, just what I have noticed and personally experienced in my one-upper friends. The sure way to get though the conversation with a one-upper is: smile and nod… just smile and nod. See that high road? Take it… then get the hell outta there!

Ouch, Eww, What is That?

Have you ever noticed the little bumps and bruises you get as a mother? Some days I look down and it looks like someone hit me with a bat, then wiped jelly all over me. I am bruised, dirty, and it's gross. How the hell do I get bruised? Where did this stain come from? Is that poop? Well today I simply payed attention and learned....

How I got bruised and dirty today...

1. Hannah ran over my baby toe with her walker... it felt like a semi truck ripped my toe off.

2. I slammed my arm into the corner of a cabinet chasing my two year old who was running off with my soda.

3. My two year old stuck her hand into the jelly jar and rubbed it on my back while I was eating at the table. And I thought she was being sweet for a moment by rubbing my back...

4. Said two year old then stole her brothers orange juice and dumped it on our leather sofa. I know because I sat in it. That's what I get for not looking down before sitting down.

5. The baby loves to grab at things... she clawed my chest and just about drew blood. Then she pulled my hair.

6. My oldest spilled milk, I was lucky enough to be sitting next to her so my lap could catch most of it before it went on the floor. (you would have to be a mom to understand that is actually a good thing.)

7. I stepped on a giant Lego. It hurts more than the little Lego's because instead of being little and sharp, it is giant and sharp. The only time it hurts worse is when you step on the giant Lego at night. Because then not only does your foot hurt... you are tired as well.

Why do I even bother showering? Tomorrow morning I should just ram my leg into the table, pour my coffee on my clean white shirt and save my children the trouble. However, I would lose that surprise factor that make them giggle after something painful or messy happens... right? At least they are cute. Tomorrow I am wearing brown... and maybe shin guards...

Soccer

With 4 children all under the age of 5, I can't help but feel like a skeptical at times. I refer to it as "the freak show"... but not in a bad way. More as like, wow look at that nut job with all the kids.  The kids started soccer last week! I was so excited for them to finally start a sport and, it was a hot mess. My husband and I were going to meet before their practice and drop his truck of at the auto shop. Well I wait at the auto shop I told him to go to until 4:55 (practice starts at 5 and I am 10 minutes away!) My husband never shows and my cell phone isn’t working so I have no way to contact him. So I do what any person would do, leave.  I show up 10 minutes late for practice and rush my four kids out of the car. Mind you, I was so excited for soccer because I knew my husband would help me. Tackling soccer with 4 kids alone was going to be one of those insanely hard things to do! Sure enough, it met my expectations right away. We get out of the car and soccer balls are flying under cars, the big kids are freaking out because they are late, the baby is crying! Finally, I load Autumn and Hannah into the double stroller and get organized while I head to the field.  All I could think was thank goodness I have this double stroller. I would be a mess without it, the little girls would be everywhere!

Once I approach the gate, my dreams came true… Oh, what's that? This stroller doesn't fit though the gate? Fantastic, of course it doesn’t. That would just be way too easy. So I unload the little girls while the big kids run to their practice. Now I am chasing after Autumn, who is chasing after Tucker, who is chasing after Bella who is running the wrong direction, all while Hannah is dangling under my arm. I finally get everyone redirected in the right direction and haul ass after Autumn who is now in the middle of the field. Once I grad her, we head to a nearby hill to watch the rest of the practice. I am literally overwhelmed and in tears.  Let’s face it, its 6 pm... It has already been a long, long, long day. This was just the icing that pushed me over the mommy cliff into a full meltdown. So, what’s a girl to do? I sat my butt on that hill and cried. Then I thought, oh what happen to Joe?

I left the auto shop before he got there, I have no cell phone. Maybe he would just come here and we would drop his truck off after practice? Where the hell was he? He said he was off like an hour ago. I wished so badly that Joe would show up and save me. At least help me get off this insane soccer field with these tired, nutty kids. Oh, please just show up Joe! Then like a knight in shining armor he appears. I kid you not, I cried crocodile tears! I was so happy to see him! Expert Tire and Discount Tire are different store and if he would just listen we could have avoided this whole mess. I do have the best husband ever though. He took a cab to the soccer field after he dropped his truck off because he knew I would need help. Long story short, soccer ended we went home; it was a good end to a long day.

 Fast forward: This week I had Joe by my side at practice, we were early, and it went off without a hitch. About 10 minutes into practice this tired/stressed mom shows up. She is clearly tired and had a LONG day. Her son runs onto the field and she slumps down near me with her baby. About 10 minutes later her hubby shows up and helps her out. Then halfway into soccer her son pees his pants. So, after all the effort it took to get there, they had to leave half way in. That poor mom. I simply said, I was you last week, don't worry next week will be great! She laughed and said thank goodness!

Sleeping...or lack thereof...

Having 4 children all under the age of five years old is so much fun... you know in that, "I don't remember the last time I slept more than 2 hours" kind of way. Don't get me wrong, I love being a mom and I love my children, but I truly hate motherhood past 10 pm. If you are on duty as a mom and it is past 10 pm, nothing good is coming out of it. You are dealing with nightmares, bed wetters, puke, you get the picture. NOTHING good happens past 10 pm if you are a mom. After the last few weeks with my kids, I swear it's like they are plotting against me.

 Last night, my four year old woke up after only being asleep for a couple hours with a bad dream. I calmed her down only to wake up the baby on the way down stairs... after a bottle I make my way down stairs. I started watching my favorite show (Game of Thrones... if you haven't seen it you should see it. But start at season one or you will be totally lost) anywho, as I was saying... I was watching my show and 10 minutes later our 2 year old meanders down the stairs for a cuddle. Adorable yes, but sometimes you want a break you know? Oy. So we cuddle and she falls back asleep so we march her back to bed. Finally after feeding the baby and soothing her back to sleep (because of course I wake her again on the way downstairs) I give up and we head to bed. Once in bed, the baby wakes up about 12, then 2, then 4:30 for a variety of reasons. Meanwhile my two year old, again, has snuck into bed next to me at some point before the 12 o'clock feeding. When I nudge my husband to scoot over, I realize he can't. Our three year old has snuck in next to him! So we are 4 bodies wide in a queen bed. Fantastic. Nothing screams neck cramp and a two-pot-of-coffee day like sleeping with your children.

Really though, when does it end? Don't get me wrong, not every night is like this. Usually it is just our 6 month old who wakes us at night. It seems like a chain reaction with our children. Like they are running some sort of parent torcher drill......

"Okay, Tucker- you're up next. Bella started us off and refused to go to bed until 10 pm tonight. Hannah will wake them up around midnight to keep their sleep broken. I recommend kicking dad in the ribs between 2am-4am. He hates that. The I will shove my hand in mom's face from 2am-4:30am...Hannah said she would cry and relieve me from my duties at 4:30am with a surprise poopy diaper and an extreme thirst for a fresh bottle that will require a trip down to the kitchen for Mom!"

On more than one occasion. there have been so many of my children in our bed that I have slept on the floor. Yes, I gave up my bed to them and slept on the ground just so I could close my eyes for another 30 minutes. My husband often sleeps in one of their beds when this happens. He has more ambition than me. I just barrel roll off the bed and use a dirty shirt as a blanket. I could sleep on a bed of nails if it meant peace for even 4 strait hours. On nights like this I can't help but think their conversation goes a little something like this...

"Good work guys! We got a full evacuation of the sleeping area. Exactly what we like to see during this type of sleep deprivation exercise. Just a reminder we are going to do a bed wetting drill next week. It is scheduled for the day after mom washes our sheets at 2:30 am. Now, I thought we would start the morning off with a fight over who was sitting the sofa first. Any volunteers?"

I fell asleep twice while typing this. Not even joking.

Down with the Nuk Fairy!

My two year old is very strong willed. She has her own way of doing things, and if she doesn't want to something... she won't. Period. Well, my little Autumn is a "Nuk Kid". She loves it. She constantly has her "nukkie" in her mouth sucking away. Now that she is two, I keep getting sideways glances from all the crunchy moms in town and have decided its time to wean her. Things are not going so well. I told her that the Nuk Fairy came and took her Nuk's to all the babies that need them. Now that she is a big girl, she doesn't need it. Let me just tell you, Autumn wants to kill that thieving bitch!

She has gone into full blown riot mode here. Hopefully after a week or so she will get over it and move one, but I do know one thing. That Nuk fairy better stay far away from our house and when it comes time, I fear for the tooth fairy. Autumn officially HATES fairies.

Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom?

Anyone with a toddlers knows that you will answer endless questions. Today has just started. It is 7:05 am. My 3 year old son, Tucker, has asked me if he can wear his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle tee shirt 18 times already. I counted, 18 times. My daughter asked if she can play outside when after breakfast, 8 times. My two year old asked me for a cuppy 6 times, after I got her a cuppy she begged me for her Nuk 9 times. Thank gosh the dog can't talk, he hasn't been outside yet and I can only imagine the questions I would get from him.

After meeting everyone's needs a new set of questions and needs arises... this is an endless cycle of questions. Over and over and over again. Eventually they all wear out from their question asking and fall asleep at 7pm. I usually stare blankly at the wall twitching from all the question answering.... until the ultimate question is asked. This question comes in two forms in my house... it is asked the SECOND I sit down and get relaxed after a long day. This question haunts me...

The final question of the day...

Mommmmmmmmmmy, can I have a glass of water???

in another form:

Mommmmmmmmmmy, can I go potty???

My response to these two questions is usually (mommy confession) a scary toned, angry yell that goes something like this...

"GET YOUR TUSH IN BED NOW!!!!????" (insert scary, mad mommy face)
Sweet dreams! I love you!

Ah, I would write more, but I have a Ninja Turtle shirt to find... (19 times)

Read About Work... After Work?

My husband always laughs at me when I tell him the latest book I am reading, or writing. He thinks it is so funny that I really focus my reading on crude, humor based books around motherhood. I rarely read parenting books that teach, well, parenting. Why? Well for one, I am kinda a know-it-all and (mommy confession) being a mother of four, think I seriously know more than the author of ANY parenting book. Is that cocky? Probably. But the main reason why I do not read parenting books is this: as a stay at home mother, my life is consumed by motherhood. I live and breath my children. My escape is the grocery store, where I buy them food. Everything I am is my children. All four of them. All the time.

After any person gets off work, do they want to read a book about how they could have done their job better? My husband is a train conductor. When he asked me why I read crude mommy books this was my reply: Here is a book on how to drive a train, sit down and read it. Maybe even study it. You just worked hours 12 hours which is at least 2 hours less than my day. I also am "on call" for a midnight feeding and a 3am feeding. I am supposed to read a serious book on how to stay calm during this? How it improve myself as a mother? Reflect on what I am doing wrong, and how I am to fix it? I am still alive, the children are still alive, we ate, bathed, and are in bed. We laughed, we cried, we even learned a little. We did it. The day is done. Mission accomplished. Why should I read a book making me feel like a failure because I didn't do it the way someone else may? This is a war zone, buddy. A very blessed, full of love, war zone. We are all just doing our best, getting though the tough days and loving the good days. The last thing I will do is read a book about work, after I get off work. That's crazy talk  right there.

Don't get me wrong here... I love my family. I love my life. But, some days those little toddlers/preschoolers drive me freaking nutty. Seriously nutty. On those days or anyday really, the last thing I will do is feel bad about trying my hardest.

Ever have a mommy day that just leaves you feeling....

Today, I took the kids hiking and it ends in a mud disaster. The children race into the house before me and leave piles of mud on the floor from their shoes, racer stripes of mud along the newly painted walls from their dirty fingers, and a bath tub full of dirt after I hosed them down. As my mother would say... cleaning the house while the children are growing is a lot like shoveling while it's still snowing....

To sum it up....

Hoarders: Crazy Pregnant Lady Edition

What is it about being pregnant that makes you a hoarder? If you are pregnant with your first child, by the time you are six months along you will be classified as a complete hoarder. When I was pregnant with my first baby it was summer, aka garage sale season. I would go out just about every weekend and search for anything baby related and buy it. My neighborhood had a giant rummage sale and I had car loads of stuff. Car loads. Old toys, clothing, coats, shoes, onesies, furniture... the list goes on.

The best part about being a pregnant hoarder is the fact that NO ONE will talk you out of it. I don't care if you have had 10 kids and are a baby whisperer... I don't care if you are Michelle Duggar...

 

I NEED this wipe warmer. You know what?

I need TWO wipe warmers, one for upstairs and one for downstairs.

I don't care if you think it's not useful, I have to have it.

I know I already bought one, but these two match baby's room better.

So, whatever, if one breaks we will have a spare.

The baby HAS to have warm baby wipes.

 

In all honesty, I had this type of conversation about 20 times during my first pregnancy (and about 10-15 times in the last three pregnancies). There is just something about expecting a baby that makes you need it all. Then as if your obsessive shopping isn't enough, we insist on having a party to gather more shit for this baby. The BABY SHOWER.

 

 Once your pile ALL of your baby junk into the house and spend 2-3 months organizing it you may finally feel ready to have this baby. After ALL your rummage sale-ing, Craigslisting, collecting from friends, baby showering, you will actually utter these words...

 

"Okay, now one more trip to Target to just get everything else off my registry that I didn't get at my shower..."

 

and a week after that...

 

"Okay, another trip, just to make sure I have EVERYTHING."

 

How is it possible that we actually find it necessary to go to the store after all this? You know we all do it. The best part is, there are family and friends ALL around us just watching us hoard this ton-age of baby junk. They just sit and watch quietly. I think the best part of ALL this baby hoarding is the fact that at NO point does anyone try to stop us. Know why? Because over the last 9 months we have morphed into this crazy emotional pregnant person and if someone tries to take away my ability to buy one more pack of onesies...even though I have 15 packs already... I will cut a bitch. It is 100% that they think you are fucking crazy and it's easier for them to spend hundreds of dollars on shit you may, or may not use then deal with you. Period. That's why no one tries to stop you. Don't you wish life was like that ALL the time? Happy shopping mommies to be! 



Craigslist...

Have you ever bought something on Craigslist? It's the best website in the world... but sometimes it almost feels like playing Russian roulette! I mean really, is it smart to contact a total stranger off the internet and ask them where they live so you can come buy their old junk? You never know what you are getting yourself into.

Moreover, the scariest part of Craigslist is selling. Recently I posted an add for an couple of old dressers we had. Essentially, the furniture is in decent condition. They are white painted wicker and over the years they are starting to chip and wear. I just wanted to make some quick cash and look for some new dressers to replace them. I had a few replies to my post with people looking to buy this furniture...

Buyer number one texts me about the dressers and literally spelled them "dresars". I know it was not a typo- it happened twice. Plus, you know it wasn't sneaky auto correct because "dresars" is not a word. I double checked with Words with Friends and it concurred it was "not a word". Boom. I never even replied to this person because I figure if you don't know how to spell dressers I don't want you to know where I live.

Buyer number two had left me a voicemail and was an older sounding man. He had a voice that sounded like a chainsaw and it was bone-chilling. This could have been Santa Claus for all I knew, but hell he sounded really scary... so I did the only logical thing. I erased the message and waited for buyer number three.

Buyer number three called... She was a super friendly mom. She also had 4 children and I could tell she was a really nice woman. I had finally thought I found the perfect buyer. However, then she said this... "I wonder if I bought the dressers if I could just paint them, they would look like new! Do you think they would take paint?" Long story short, I made up an excuse... got off the line... and plan to paint my dressers this summer. Thanks mystery Craigslist mommy friend, what a great idea! FYI she called me back like 3 times that week and I never answered... who knew I was the weirdo the whole time?!

TGI freaking F

As a stay at home mom I think we all have a day when we say.. fuck it. I mean it. You know what that day is? That day is Friday at 3 pm. By Friday at 3 pm, they could burn the damn house down and I seriously would not care. I may even be glad because I won't have to clean it anymore. By 3pm on Friday my toddlers are in full riot mode.

What is that? Your sister stole your barbie? Deal with it. I don't get why my kids constantly tattle on each other. You know what I did when my sister stole my barbie? I grab her hair and pulled that shit until she gave it back. (and vise versa) Eventually we didn't take each other barbies... okay, we did but we were at least sneaky about it.

You're jumping from the ottoman to the couch to the chair? You know your not allowed yet you giggle at me while you do it. Whatever, just don't land on the dog.

You pull out all the spoons from the draw and bang your toys with them... I hide in the bathroom from the noise with the baby... seriously.

You bring your crackers out to the living room and smash them into the carpet that I literally JUST vacuumed.... I pushed the ottoman over the mess and I got myself some coffee .

My 2 year old is tossing dog food into the dog water... tough break Gauge.

This was literally my last hour... all I want to do when my husband gets home is run for it. Mommy confession: sometimes I say I have to go to the store for something, when in reality we don't need anything. I just have to get out of the house so I don't go postal on someone. When I leave I turn the radio up in the truck as loud as it goes and dance... I am sure people see me but I don't care... for the three minute drive to the store I just need to escape the hellish reality that is a stay at home mom's life in the middle of winter with 4 children 4 and under. I love my children and feel very grateful to be a stay at home mom, but holy hell after 5 days without Daddy... My sanity is very debatable. Debatable to the point that dancing to country music in the truck with people watching me doesn't phase me in the least. Enjoy the show!

The Post Baby Body.

 Youth is wasted on the young. I realize how ridiculous that sounds coming from a 26 year old. However, my body is 26 going on... well... 90? Anyways, after 4 children things aren't where they used to be. I am nursing and have two different sized boobs. Seriously, I have a D cup and a B cup. Bra shopping is a bitch. On top of that I have spider veins that are horrendous. Then there is the adorable popped balloon tummy we all get after we have the baby. It's fantastic. I think back to when I was 20, before children. I had a flat tummy, long lean legs. If  I could go back in time I would literally just walk around naked all-day-long... (or until I got arrested).

Fast forward to today... what on earth is with girls these days? I live in a college town so needless to say there are college kids everywhere. I was at the grocery store the other day and these adorable college girls were shopping and wearing oversized sweatpants tucked into dirty ugg boots. They had sloppy hair tossed into a bun and dirty hooded sweatshirts on. What the hell? Essentially we were wearing the same outfit- however I was wearing it because it's the only thing that fits over my awkwardly large hips at the moment... what is their excuse? I wanted to shake them "THERE WILL BE A TIME FOR THAT OUTFIT! Trust me sweetie- wear high heels everywhere you go, just because you can." 

Oh, how I took forgranted my amazing body. It will take a mild form of anorexia and a marathon of running to get it back now... and honestly, who wants to do that? Pass the chips, those skinny college girls can have at it. Work it sister...

Gauge, Our Catdog

We call our oversized black lab, Gauge. Two things to know about him: he is a good 30 pounds overweight (not like I should talk) and he is a neurotic mess. He is scared of everything and will plow over a child at any given second if that creepy pink barbie car gets to close to him. When he isn't being torchered by barbie cars and children trying to ride him, he is asleep. He literally is a giant cat that takes up half of the living room.

Feeling like maybe a little exercise will do him some good... I took him for a walk. When I did try to walk him, we went one block and I dragged him home, up hill. That means, walking DOWN hill tired him out. Who gets tired walking down hill?  When he gets to go outside and run around like a normal happy dog, he doesn't. He literally cringes at the thought. He does his business and stands at the back door crying and barking to come back inside as if he has been left out there for hooooours. Oh, and if it's snowing or raining he opts to stay inside. He will see the weather is not suitable for him and literally walk away from the door and go lay down again. He may not have gone out in 13 hours, but he insist he can wait it out.  To get him outside when it's raining you literally have physically push him outside. Even then, he has just stood there and waited until I let him back inside. I figure he doesn't want to get his paws muddy. What a cat.

Now because of this lack in physical activity (and the eating of many fallen chicken nuggets) Gauge has at least 30 extra pounds on him. He quite literally has sleep apnea because of his weight. For real. He snores so loud that he HAS to sleep down stairs and even then keeps me awake at night. You would think the newborn would be the sleeping problem at night? Nope, not at all. It's Gauge. The snoring isn't even the worst part... the waking up is. At least once a night my morbidly obese dog wakes up in total panic realizing he has stopped breathing. He heaves and snorts so loudly that he sounds like he is being water-boarded. Once he realizes he is awake, he will give another few snorts before drifting back into a mind numbing snoring sleep again.

Since the exercise routine didn't pan out for old Gauge, this winter I attempted to put Gauge on a diet.  He glared at me for a month. No joke- he glared. Everytime the kids ate I would pick up anything they dropped in an effort to prevent Gauge from eating it.  Everytime I picked up food I could hear him calling me a bitch with his eyes. Well, maybe this summer we will have better luck getting old Gauge to get his workout on. At this point he could easily be excused for a Shar Pei. Maybe we will just stick with that?

Rescue Dog

Confessions...

Things I have said or done as a mother... this one will be updated as time goes on...

My parents came to see us recently and my dad saw that I kept my deodorant in the kitchen cupboard. He asked why? My response was simple... if I put it in the bathroom, they will eat it of course!

When else in life does a person scream bloody murder for hours on end just because they have to poop. Never.

Don't scoop ranch with your whole hand and then lick it off.

Don't lick the baby.

Please stop beating the door with your feet. I hear that you are awake with your screaming- the kicking is unnecessary.

I literally dare someone to break into my house... Oh good, a free helper!

For my birthday I seriously got $70 worth of coffee shop gift cards, and it was hands down the best present ever.

Hubby, "I got called for the train tonight, I will be home tomorrow."
Me, "hello? Pizza Hut?"

Stop eating the dish soap bubbles, they look pretty but are not food.

My neighbor "Gauge is loose want me to get him?"
Me "He isn't loose, I set him free."

Flour isn't the same as sugar don't try to sneak it like your doing something naughty. I am telling you not to eat it off the counter because it tastes like shit.

Don't eat the core to your apple (seeds, stem, and all)- you throw that part away. (They ate it anyways)

Coffee grounds aren't sand. But they are expensive.

No you can't have a bite of the lemon. No. No. No. No. Oh my GOSH! Stop asking. NO. NO. Fine, you want a bite? Fine, here.... told you so.

NO do NOT touch the dog there!

Don't you hate when toilet paper is stuck to the bathroom wall? Nothing makes you want to disinfect your entire house more than that.

Stop eating the playdough, your poop is going to be blue....again.

I realized we only had enough ice cream left for me or them. I told them we were out, put them to bed, and ate it.

Because Big Mac Trumps Salad...

So I had a baby 4 weeks ago and I am still fat. I have friends who pop babies out and literally look better than I did before I got pregnant. They come home from the hospital in their "pre pregnancy" pants. Hell, I am still at least 3 months off of anything that has a button to close it. (I love that it's almost spring so I can pull of the "athletic" look and just wear stretch yoga pants until October. That should buy me some time.)  You know what though? I earned my fat. I earned every single pound of it. I mean come on, did I really think I could eat shit for 9 months and look hot after? Really? Clearly No, Rebecca. Eating Taco Bell only gets you one place, to fat town. Now, this being said... who eats a salad for lunch when they are are a starving pregnant person? Those skinny bitches that's who! Yes, but eating a giant Big Mac (extra sauce) and a large fry while starving and pregnant is the best thing ever... if you are lucky enough to get a nap after it will become an out of body experience. Anyways, I earned my fat. I made me gain 30 some odd pounds and the giant baby caused the "popped balloon tummy" that I am left with. Some odd combination of running and reduced fat wheat thins should do the trick. But look out world, this hungry hungry hippo is on a diet and for some reason, it turns me into a bitch. Nothing is worse than hunger after eating whatever and whenever you want for 9 months!