Life From the Exhausted Mother

I haven't written a blog in a long time.  Reason?  Writer's block a little and a lot of exhaustion.  There just aren't enough hours in the day.  My calendar looks like this:

See?  When would I have time to do any bloggy blogging?  Today is crazy, too, but I gotta get off of my feet, so here's some random funny and some baby news.

This morning, the dudes were playing Star Wars in the basement.  I got Big Man a Luke Skywalker costume, though he informed me that it is really Obi Wan.  Whatever.  He looks awesome in it.  I got Little Man a Darth Vader costume.  It is five sizes too big.  They were used, and continue to be used, every day since I've bought them, so WIN!

Anyway, they were playing, and Little Man was using this miniature basketball for something.  Big Man took it and wouldn't give it back.  Here is Little Man's reaction:

"Nooooooooooooo!!!! GIVE IT BACK!!!!!  Fine!  I'm telling Yoda!  AND I'm not playing Jedi with you anymore!  I'm finding a NEW master, and HE will let me have a ball WHENEVER I WANT!!!"

Haaaaaaahahahhahahahha!!!  Then I decided *I* was the new master, and the dudes should put their laundry away and clean their bathrooms and scoop the cat litter.  They did so very quickly and without complaint.  I used the force.  If by "using the force," I mean Eric told them that if they did it super fast, then they could play Halo.

In baby news, there's a lot of baby news.  I'm 34-1/2 weeks and experiencing new things every day.  On the diabetes front, I suck.  I could not keep my sugars controlled with the diet the nutritionist gave me, so we switched it around a couple of days ago.  Things have been going better, although not perfect, since then.  My doctor doesn't wanna do insulin, yet, so that's good.  Needles.  *shudder*  I'm sick of poking myself four times a day.

I'm also sick of not being able to eat what I want.  Changing my diet has always been really difficult for me, though I found it easier to "stick with it" since I have to be strong for the Bot.  I'm not just trying to lose weight or something.  I'm trying to keep her healthy.  The second she's born I'm going to have to look at Eric and say, "Congratulations, Daddy!  Now get thee to Starbucks immediately for a pumpkin spice latte, and by the way, a cupcake from Le Dolce Vita and a Big Mouth sushi special from Sapporo needs to be on the way, too!"

Trying to keep her healthy means flu shot for mama, too.  I've never had one.  Needle.  Ugh.  I get the death sick every year, though, and I'm sure this year will be no exception.  The dudes are already bringing nastiness back from the germ factory that is elementary school.  Coughing, sneezing, and poison ivy all around!

Contractions.  My stomach is rock hard, and I can feel her head in my nether bits.  These are weird and odd things.  I've been having them for weeks, but now they are stronger and more frequent.  Not frequent enough to be considered preterm labor, but strong and frequent enough to be considered more than a minor annoyance.  I hope they give me abs.  That would be awesome.  It certainly FEELS like they're workin my ab muscles.  I'll be the first woman in history to leave the hospital after giving birth with 6-pack abs.  I'll find some way to make a million dollars with the "prodromal labor" technique.  There will be a video.  And an infomercial.

I panicked about a week ago and was all, "OMGOSH WE ARE NOT PREPARED!!!"  I'm not scared of going into labor or giving birth anymore.  I think I've educated myself enough on them that I'm just all OOOOHM about it.  But, I'm TERRIFIED of when she is actually here.  I went all crazy like, "We have no crib! No dresser for her clothes!  No pack and play! No car seat! Not enough diapers!"  I went on a crazy spending spree.  We have all of those things now.  I acted like she was going to be here in the next few hours, and we'd have nothing.  I'm calm now, though.  I got better.

Eric's ex-wife text me yesterday and asked how I was feeling and if there was anything else I needed.  I was all cool as a cucumber calm and just, "Nope. We are totally prepared to the max, and I feel allllll riiiiight."  So she was all, "Great!  Pack your hospital bag!"

PANIC! PANIC!!! OMGOMG HOSPITAL BAG, WTF GOES IN THERE I AM NOT PREPARED!!

She told me what goes in there.  It's not that hard, Karen, you idiot.  Calm the eff down.

It's a National Holiday!

Is it "do whatever you can to try to get your brother in trouble" day? How about "sneak around the house breaking rules and trying not to get caught" day? No? Then surely it's, "act like a know-it-all teenager and pretend your parents are stupid" day.

I mean, they haven't been unmanageable or insane or anything, just obnoxious.  They fought downstairs so much that I quit refereeing and just shut the door.  The rule is, if your brother is bothering you, you calmly come upstairs and say, "Hey, so and so is bothering me when I am trying to play XX."  Then, I go down and get said bothering brother to come upstairs and let calm brother finish whatever he was playing in peace.  However, they don't go this route, usually, because it means pausing their video game or stopping whatever they are playing for the 3 seconds it takes to come up and tell me.  So, for an HOUR, it was screaming, "OOOWW! STOP HITTING ME!" "STOP BITING ME!" "I DIDN'T!" "GET OFF OF ME!" "STOOOOOOOP!!"  The hope is that I will hear this screaming tattle and come down and automatically know who "started" it.  Instead, I always just end up going down there and saying "game over.  Separate." and BOTH of them get into trouble because how in the crap should I know who is doing what?  It's a giant cluster.  Then the arguments of "he started it!" starts.  I remind them AGAIN of the rule, and that if they are both screaming, they both get in trouble.  Then they stomp to time out for 7 minutes or whatever, and go back downstairs, and it starts all over again.

Today I just turned on some music really loud, shut the basement door, and tuned out the screaming.  Eventually, Big Man's video game was over.  After screaming at his brother and pushing him and doing lord knows what in retaliation for whatever annoying little brother thing Little Man was doing, Big Man then decided that he was gonna try the "come upstairs and tattle calmly, blaming everything on Little Man" approach.  It didn't work out for him.  I told him I didn't want to hear the tattle.  They were both fighting, and they'd be separated for an hour.  I didn't even let them eat lunch together.  After Little Man was done with lunch, I told him to brush his teeth and clean off his bathroom counter while Big Man ate.  After Big Man was done, he had to do the same.  I told them not to even look at one another until 1:00.  They can play with one another then, and sorry if they're bored, but that's what happens when you're mean to your friends.

Little Man happily played Candy Land alone in the living room.  Big Man, however, tried to pretend I was stupid.  He went over to stand right next to Little Man and stare at him playing Candy Land.  I told him he was not to bother his brother, and to get out of the living room.  "I'm not PLAYING with him.  I'm just looking at him."  *eye roll*  I told him to get out of the living room, so smarty pants stepped back two steps into the tile entry way connecting it to the living room and continued to stare at Little Man and tell him what colors to pick, starting Little Man on the, "Don't tell me what to do!" argument.  From Big Man, "I'm not IN the room now."  I told him to either go up to his room or down to the basement.  He doesn't even need to be on the same floor of the house as his brother.  He went downstairs.  Five minutes later, I'm cleaning my own bathroom, and I hear a whispered argument.  Little Man had moved to where Big Man was playing this time to play right next to him to try to get Big Man in trouble for being in the same room.  I sent Little Man upstairs to his bedroom with the game.

Five minutes later, Big Man decides HE needs to be upstairs, too.  Of course.  That's where the biggest chance of provoking Little Man into an argument by just being near him is."  I told him he can go in his room and close his door to play, but he isn't to be anywhere near Little Man's room or in the loft separating the rooms.  At 12:45, a mere fifteen minutes until they are allowed to play together, Little Man sneaks into Big Man's room and takes a CD.  Big Man sneaks back into Little Man's room to try to have a "quiet" argument regarding the CD so that I can't hear that they are together and fighting again. 

I stopped messing around, then.  No more free range of the house.  I told them they've added another hour of not playing together, and for this hour, they'll be in their rooms with the doors shut.  If I hear a door open for anything other than the bathroom, another hour will be tacked on.  I've had enough.

Sure has been quiet, though, and I've gotten a lot of cleaning done with some great tunes in my ears.  They are allowed out in five minutes.  Let's hope we can get some family fun in before their dad gets home.

The Morning of Hilarity and Love

Sometimes I wake up in the morning after a bout of insomnia and feel overwhelming love and affection for my family.  This is one of those days, and it's only gotten better since.  Except the part where I walked 15 minutes in the rain from the parking lot to my class building this morning only to find, the instant that I stepped on the wet pavement, that my shoe has a hole in the bottom.  I wish it had a whole bottom.  You see what I did there?  Hello, Wet Sock! You are the bane of my existence, and I will now have to tolerate you for the next 8 hours!

So, I woke up this morning full of love for my wonderful husband and my two little stepdudes, and today...it was POAS day!  The day when I find out if I get to have THREE little dudes or two dudes and a little lady? chick? girlfriend? (If I have a girl, I will need an equally awesome nickname to call her on this blog.  Be thinking on that, loyal readers.)  Anyway, I peed on the stick, and it was negative.  Boo hoo for me, but totally whatever because we will keep trying again Dori style.

Great.  Now I'm going to have Ellen DeGeneres stuck in my head the whole time we are trying next time.  At least she swings my way, so it's not a total loss.  Tricia Kincaid, the creator of my current Mary Kay skin care regime, once told me that I should not forget to moisturize my throat, or else I will look like Ellen forever.  Now I can't look at her without thinking "throat of destruction" and then thinking about Tricia.  Now I will add babymaking to my ever growing list of DeGeneres association.  Sweet.

The Little Man was INFINITELY hilarious in the car this morning.

Driving in the rain:  "Stop, rain, or I will punch you in the face!"
Big Man (matter of fact):  "Please.  Rain doesn't have a face."
Little Man:  "Pfffffft! Yes.  It does!  It's right there on the side of the drop.  I'll punch it there."

He gets the "punch inanimate objects in the face" gene from me.  It's not genetic.  It's sponge-etic.

"Karen, are we going to a different school next year?"
Me:  "Yes, buddy.  You won't have to get up so early, and you can get on the bus at our house instead of having to drive an hour to and from school."
Little Man (clearly alarmed):  "But! I won't ever see Jackie S ever again ever!  How will I ever find a wife?!?!?!? WHO IS GOING TO BE MY WIFE!!!???"

Apparently we've ruined his marriage.

Lastly, a car on the highway was speeding like crazy, cut me off in the pouring rain, and squeezed himself between two cars to take an exit at the last minute.

Me:  "Holy mackerel! That guy almost caused a big accident with his crazy driving!"
Little Man:  "If he knows he is breaking the speed limit, then it's a big on purpose."

These days are the best part of my family.

Oh! Also, my brother, Russ, had an interview in the Nuvo yesterday.  Pretty flipping cool.  You can read it here.  CLICK ME AND YOU CAN READ THIS SUPER ARTICLE OF AWESOMESAUCE!

Ya'll should go see him at the Ugly Monkey for the TEN days before the Super Bowl.  I'm a proud sister, oh yes.

I have stalled almost long enough to head to class!