wine

i'd say 93% of the time (give or take), my husband can call me out when it's about to be "my time of the month." (that oh so special time.) i usually spaz out about something stupid and he'll just look at me and say, "you are about to get your period, aren't you!?" i hate (HATE) when that happens...being called out that is, because you know deep down inside your inner crazy is being unleashed, but there really is nothing you can do about it. i'm pretty sure that i wigged about him turning on the electric fireplace and i screamed something asinine. (like a psycho.) he just walked away and i went out into the kitchen and thought, "holy christ, that was so uncalled for, what the hell is wrong with me?!" so when he came back downstairs, i said, "i'm sorry, i shouldn't have yelled like that about something so stupid." he said, "well i walked upstairs thinking that i married an asshole, but i then knew you were probably just getting your lady friend." (he was right. damnit.) so anyway, that same night (after my kids were in bed), i went upstairs with a glass of wine, my laptop, and settled in to watch a movie. (alone.) butch stayed downstairs and was playing weird warlord games on his phone. (whatever works.)

so about a half an hour into the movie, i heard a violent knock at the door. (several violent knocks, actually.) it was like 8 o'clockish, and i had no idea who it could be. of course, the dog went apeshit barking and acting like a lunatic. i just paused the movie and listened to see how it would play out. let me say that prior to answering the door, i almost always put our dog (penelope) in her crate. if i don't...she paw punches people in the private parts. she's what cesar millan would call a "jumper." (it's what i would call, "an animal acting like an asshole.") anyways, i didn't hear butch put her in the crate and i also heard him unbolt the door and open it up. (uh oh.) as the door creaked open, all i could hear was (loud) laughter. (really loud.) it was like a belly laugh from deep down inside of someone, and i knew it wasn't coming from my husband. after the laughter died down, i heard the guy say something about "not wanting the wine to freeze outside." (what?) they were also talking about some other stupid shit i couldn't make out. i didn't run downstairs (mainly because i wasn't wearing pants), but after i heard the door close i knew it was safe to proceed.

i walked down the steps and warren was standing there pulling wine bottles out of a rather large box. (i looked out the window to see a fed ex truck pulling away.) he was wearing this:

so now, you see why the laughter of the delivery man was boisterous and bold? i yelped, "WTF are you wearing!? you wore that to answer the door!?" he just laughed and said, "yeah, who cares. it's cold down here and i wasn't going to come up to change." i replied, "you could've removed the (weird) HAT at least." he shrugged his shoulders (ignoring my comment) and said, "look at all this wine! i got a great deal on groupon and i got all of these for $55 dollars! it's usually $14.99 a bottle!" i shook my head. he went on..."this is the mystery red 12 pack! it looks amazing!" (so do your black long johns.) i sighed and told him i was going back up to finish my movie. he was still inspecting the bottles of wine and commenting on each one as i walked up the steps. i took a deep breath and tried not to wig out (calm the inner crazy), but was still wondering why any sane person would open the door wearing what he was wearing. (wow.) i later asked him about penelope and if she got a nut shot in and he said, "no, i cracked the door ever so slightly and then i used my one leg to kick her from behind the whole time that he was here." i don't know how he grabbed the heavy box while doing that, but i really don't want to know. 

so fast forward to today, we are wrapping up a weekend with a visit from his college roommate. i've stated before what happens when these two nimrods get together. (it's ridiculous.) it's like hitting a rewind button and watching a bad episode of real world. on the other hand, wanna know what i did today? woke up, fed the kids, went to the grocery store, did 3 loads of laundry, went to the gym, packed lunches for the week, made a huge pot of chili for a weeknight crock pot meal, and more. wanna know what my husband did? ate, took a shit, and played wii with his former college roommate for the remainder of the day. he actually asked me at one point (as i was folding laundry) if i wanted to play with him and i said dryly, "no, i have adult things to get done around here." he and his friend chuckled. (laugh it up aholes!) it's no longer sunday funday, it's sunday get shit done day. (dick.) i stopped by fen's this morning (when i was about to flip my lid on him), and she got me under control. she also shared with me that she took her sister to mass the night before and the entire thing was in...FRENCH. her sister (who laughs a lot), could not get her shit together for most of the mass, due to the language mix up. (awesome.) taking her visiting sister to church, only to have the whole thing in french? that would only happen to fen.

in the next breath, i mentioned the fact (to the both of them)...that i would like to give up alcohol for a month. her sister just stared at me and said, "why would you do that?" (like i was nuts.) fen then said, "well, i'll do it with you." that was at about 11am this morning, and we talked each other out of that nonsense by 3pm. (what are friends for?) we may try to do no wine for a week, but that's as far as that goes. granted, it's going to be kinda hard with the "mystery red" wine pack warren got from groupon staring me in the face....it's wonderful ways whispering sweet nothings in my ear. (that's a bit dramatic, but if you like wine...you know what i mean.) anyway, saying goodbye to another sunday, onto another week...and i'm seriously hoping it isn't interrupted by snow. i really can't take much more of old man winter and this heartless hindrance on my life. i desperately need a beach, flip flops, and warmer weather. (pronto.) i also don't know how much more i can take of staring at my husband in that horrific hat. unlike the fed ex guy, i do not find it to be funny anymore. however, turns out everyone's a winner with the wine delivery, though, cause my children played with the box the whole weekend. (234 toys, but a box is much more awesome.) the kids pretended it was a house, a boat, a turtle shell...and then ella got in it and hid for a good half hour. just gonna throw out there that i follow through and choose not to have wine all week, i may be doing the same thing...by wednesday. don't say i didn't warn you. 

ella was inside.  i may follow suit. 

newborns

i had an opportunity for the first time in a very long time...to hold a newborn baby yesterday. two things came to mind while doing so...they are as follows: 1. i really like holding newborn babies. 2. holding a newborn baby that isn't yours is even better...because you get to give them back. before you get all baby hate crime on me, let me explain. quite frankly, having a newborn is brutal. anyone that tells you otherwise is either living in lala land, or is a liar. (either/or.) i've often said that although having a baby (for the first time) is the birth of a new life...it is also like a death of your old life. you have to let go of everything you knew about your life before, because your life is never going to be the same. now i will add, when the second one came around i wasn't so shocked at how she shook things up...because her sister paved the path of destruction 2 years prior to her entry into this world. society makes having a baby look so wonderful and good...and it is, in a lot of ways. however, you aren't skipping around on a rainbow with unicorns coming out of your ass, your bundle of joy swaddled perfectly in your arms. it's really (really) hard...and someone should tell new mom's this instead of making it look so grand. along with the rewarding stuff, they should also show the shitty diapers and screams so that you won't think your baby is the spawn of satan when they start to act up.

so anyway, i went to visit this mommy friend and she stated that she has been out of the house without the baby only once in the past 3 weeks. (he's three weeks old.) i remember what that's like as well, and it's not so much fun. i was one stir crazy m'fer. also, there is the fact that you are a slave to the boob (if you are breastfeeding) and you start to feel like a farm animal, rather than a female. plus, when you first have the kid...you are relieved that they are no longer kicking your ribs from the inside, but now your body does all sorts of awesome things that you didn't know it could do. i'll spare you the details, but if you are a mother...you know what i mean. (i now pee my pants when i sneeze...and that's just the tip of the ice burg.) despite this, holding this new little life in my arms made me kinda want another one of my own. babies are funny that way, they look all cuddly and cute...and while staring at them you forget what it's like to wake up no less than 23 times during the night. (no thanks!) when i try to think back to a year and a half ago (with my youngest), it all seems like a blur. when people say time goes fast when you have kids, they are not joking. (it really does.) however, when you are zombie newborn land, the days go very slow and you are always praying for one thing...a full night's rest. if you could deal with their neediness during the day and then lay your head down in the evening, not having to at all deal with their nonsense during the night...you'd be golden. but again, that's in lala land. that never happens. they wake up and need shit...and unfortunately they don't wear watches.

as i handed my friend's handsome little man over (after holding him for a solid hour and a half), i felt a sense of peace. (babies can do that as well.) all of their newborn baby pain train tricks aside, they make you slow the hell down and realize what really matters. i then picked up my phone to check if there was any nonsense on the family home front and i had a hyper text message about the weather, from warren. he mentioned the word blizzard and in the next breath, felt the need to mention that our 3 year old did not nap. i wasn't surprised because two days ago she sang happy birthday (to herself) for a good hour she was up there. (happy birthhddayyy to eeellllllllllaaaaaa!) i was gone for 2 hours total and you would've thought that i left for a day and a half. (woah.) when i walked back into the house, mickey mouse was manning the ship from his clubhouse. butch had showered and shaved and said that he was feeling stir crazy in the house. (huh? it's been 2 hours.) i smiled and said goodbye...as he ran out to get some sam adams. (sheesh.) both of my kids immediately starting asking for stuff, such as (but not limited to) goldfish crackers, apple juice, and crayons.

 


so there i sat soaking it all in, hoping that the family i went to visit enjoys the homemade (stouffer's) lasagna and the boilo i brought them. nothing says, "enjoy your new baby." like a ten dollar family dinner and a ball jar full of booze.  (don't judge me.) later that night, my husband leaned over the laptop and said, "what are you writing about?" i said, "newborn babies." he said (matter of factly), "newborn babies make we want to barf." (and then dry heaved.)  i said, "i'm writing about what a pain in the ass they can be." (along with other stuff.) he replied, "THERE YA GO!...that's the spirit!" (bahaha!) so here's to all those new little "bundles of joy"...and also to the fact i don't have one of them cohabitating in my house, or currently hanging off of my left breast. today i raised my bloody mary to all the mommy's that are dealing with newborns right now, all the parent's who have gone through that stage already, and to all the new mom's that i know that are about to hop on the newborn baby bandwagon. better tighten up your nursing bra and buy an extra pack of depends...it's gonna be one hell of a bumpy (and extremely rewarding) ride.

solicitors

why is it that door to door salesmen and solicitors always show up at the worst possible time? typically at our house, we don't even answer the door. people that know us just walk right in, so anyone else that is knocking is not someone we really want to talk to. however, monday evening we were wrapping up dinner, i was in the kitchen doing dishes, and butch had taken carrie (who was acting like a crazy asshole) upstairs to the tub. i heard a knock, followed by our dog going ape shit...and then ella yelling, "MOMMMMEEEEE THERE IS SOOMMMMEEONNNE ATTT THE DOORRR!!!!" she was sitting right by the door. (shit.) so, you see, i couldn't really pull the "we aren't home" card because my three year old was like a goddamn megaphone and i knew the person on the other side could definitely hear her. i dried my hands and walked reluctantly to the door, opened it up, and there was a man (about as tall as me), of hispanic descent, armed with an ipad...and a smile full of straight teeth. he said, "hiii! so are youuu the ladyy of the house?!" before i could come up with something witty to say...like, "NO." i sighed and said, "yes. that's me." i almost grabbed ella, put her in front of the door and said, "no, she is." (that would've been fun.) he then introduced himself as darren, shook my hand, and started his spiel. he was really enthusiastic and upbeat. i had just finished a day of work and dinner...i was not. usually at this point, i cut them off and tell them i am not interested, but the guy was just too nice and he was kinda nervous so i didn't want to ruin his day. (no worries, my dog did a fine job of that in the near future.)

at this point, ella climbed down from her supper chair...face covered in whatever we were eating that night and started poking me in the ass. i turned around to look at her and she said (and i quote), "who is this man." (who. is. this. man.) like he's a gentlemen caller and she caught me in a web of lies. i said, "can you please go find your father?" she skipped away (in the opposite direction of her dad) and then i suddenly heard carrie start screaming as if butch was inflicting pain on her...on purpose. oh, and not to mention i had the dog in her crate and she was also going bananas. whining, barking, yelping. (the works.) it was right then that i wished i could have grown a rubber leg and kicked myself in the ass for even opening the door in the first place. (seriously.) he was trying to talk over the nonsense and i was trying to listen and act like barnum and bailey weren't present in my home. all i caught was something about BG&E and electric and going green. just as ella was yelling loudly into a toy microphone from the living room, i heard carrie really escalate to full blown psycho upstairs, i told him to "hold on" and closed the door in his face. i ran up the steps and whisper yelled, "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON UP HERE!!!" my husband was washing the little one, who was still screaming for no apparent reason...and he said, "i don't know why she's crying." i told him about the guy on the porch. he then said, "well tell him to get the hell out of here." (bah!) so i went back downstairs and opened the door. i didn't expect to see darren...i thought darren would've taken the hint to get the hell off our porch. (he did not.) there he stood and he must've read my facial cues because he said, "listen, i'll be in your neighborhood for another 20 minutes. do you want me to come back?" (no.) i said, "sure." just as the words escaped my lips...our dog escaped her cage, ran out the door, and crotch chopped him with both of her paws. (i shit you not.) he doubled over, grabbed his man parts, and told me he'd be back in 20 minutes. (jesus christ.)

i went upstairs and got carrie under control, put ella in the tub, and told butch that he would have to talk to this guy when he came back, because i felt too bad blowing him off. he agreed, but only because he knew he wouldn't have to deal with the kids for the 15 minutes he was having that conversation. anyway, sure as shit the guy showed back up and this time we let him in the house. he came in sorta covering his crotch...protecting his balls from the beast. he sat down at the pub table and i apologized for the craziness he endured 20 minutes earlier. (including the double paw crotch chop.) he said (kinda startled), "hey! that's what families are for...right?" (right.) yes...and that's why god also created wine and whiskey. (want some?) after darren's full blown dissertation about going green, we couldn't do it because we were locked in on our electric rate for another two years. (good.) shortly after he said goodbye, we put both the kids up to bed and i settled in on the couch for the one silent hour i get between their bedtime and mine. the dog was outside and barked to get back in, just as carrie started crying on the monitor and ella yelled something about being "firsty" loudly from upstairs. butch turned to me slowly and said, "i seriously just want to throw all of them in the backyard, lock the door, and go to bed. they can fend for themselves." i lost my shit laughing. the sad thing is, it didn't sound like too bad of an idea at that point. (i didn't have one ounce of patience left.) about 30 minutes later, (thankfully) the house fell silent, i sat sipping my tea on the couch...and thought about dusting off the straight jacket in the hall closet. (i keep it for special occasions, like nights such as these.) had darren come back, i would've kindly asked him to tighten the straps...but not before handing him an ice pack for his private parts. nonetheless, i'm pretty sure we won't be seeing him again. perfect.

goggles

whether you are a working mother or not...it's no small feat to make dinner when your children are in the house with you. when your attention suddenly shifts from them to food, all hell breaks loose.  (every time.) on the days i don't go to the gym, i come home and get busy making dinner right away. (on the days i do go to the gym, my husband usually sets shit on fire.) it doesn't matter if my two cherubs are quietly playing together peacefully in the living room, when they hear me slice into the first onion or peel the package of meat open...they use this as their catalyst for disaster. yesterday i was elbows deep in raw turkey meat (making mini meatloaves) and carrie came out into the kitchen and pushed her way between me and the cabinets. she wrapped both of her arms around my legs and latched on. i looked down to see her looking up at me, mouth agape, yelling something (baby obscenities?) and i knew if i scooped her up...i would inadvertently slather her with salmonella. i had no choice to just let her scream for the time being. (music to my ears while making dinner.) in the meantime, ella came out shortly after and squawked, "i'm hunnnnnngrrryyyy ANNNDD firrrrrssstttyyyyyyy mommmmmmeeeeeeee!!!!!!" (for the love of...) i told her that she would have to wait a minute, to which she then started crying. i shuffled over to the sink with a one year old rope wrapped around my legs and washed my hands...and then took a shot of whiskey. (just kidding, but i wanted to.)

after settling them both at the table with snacks, drinks, legos, and my good friend mickey mouse (complete with his clubhouse)...i went back to work in the kitchen. shortly after this, the nonsense continued when carrie shoved three legos in her mouth and i heard ella yell, "LEGOS ARE NOT SNAAAAACKS, TAAARRRIIEEEE!" i ran around the corner and sure enough she had three cookie shaped legos in her chops...she was chewing on them. meanwhile, her cheese curls sat untouched. (nice.) then, ella slammed her apple juice back like a college student at a frat party and started hollering for more. i wonder if butch has any idea what i go through each day while trying to make dinner...my guess is no. he just knows that when he walks in the door, there is a delicious meal on the table and suddenly sybil and her sister are on their best behavior. when we sit down to eat, i always have one foot on the floor because someone is going to need something. a refill, a napkin, ketchup, a fork...a (lego) cookie. (it's never ending.) even if i try to have everything laid out and ready, someone needs something. it's a small miracle if i don't get up from the table at least once. anyways, butch approved of my paleo inspired meal, but later admitted that he shoveled a few forkfuls of ella's ramen noodles in his mouth when i went around the corner...because he "just couldn't do without a starch." his words, not mine. (jesus.)

whenever i clean up from dinner, my husband takes our offspring up for a bath. during this time, i clean up from dinner. sometimes i try to finish doing the dishes quickly so that i can sit down for 5 minutes before they all reemerge from upstairs and start asking for shit again. as i stood at the sink last night, i heard a crazy commotion coming from above. i couldn't make it all out over the water, but it sounded like my entire kindergarten class was in the tub. (no joke.) i thought about going up to help, but decided it would be more fun to just listen from downstairs. (sorry sucker!) i did hear someone yell something about "poop"...but i ignored it, as i was elbows deep in dishwater. (no time for poop.) when carrie came down, she was wearing these:

be prepared.

apparently she was made aware of the extreme temperatures and wanted to be ready? she waddled over and gave me a big cheese face and all i could do is laugh. (a complete goof...not my child at all.) ella wasn't far behind and immediately asked me for a pack of princess gummy snacks, as soon as she walked into the room. i then heard butch yell down, "yooo! do we have any toilet paper?" i said, "i don't know, did you get out the last roll?" (because i know damn well i didn't!) he said, "ohhhhh i think i did. i guess i'm going to have to go get some." however, he wanted to make sure he got the best deal...so he sat on the computer for 25 minutes looking for coupons. (for paper that you wipe your ass with.) after i while i wigged out and said, "could you just go get it so that you can get back!?!?!" i almost asked him if he could just print out some coupons to wipe his ass with instead, but that might've been taking it a bit too far. he left before i could blurt that out. (there is always next time.)

i took the two kids upstairs and got them ready for bed. they brushed their teeth, and i read the story goodnight moon for the 234th time. ('goodnight noises, everywhere.' is my favorite part of that one.) alas, as ella was brushing her teeth i looked down to see one of carrie's socks on the side of the sink....covered in what looked like shit. i looked down at ella (who was foaming at the mouth from toothpaste) and said, "WHY is your sister's sock on the sink...covered in POOP!?" she stared at me for a second and then just started laughing. (hysterically.) she couldn't even get out what she wanted to say. (i just shook my head.) so after i put them down to bed, i ran into captain coupon and his 24 pack of scott toilet tissue in the kitchen. i said, "why the hell was carrie's sock covered in shit on the side of the bathroom sink?" he smirked, stared at me...and then said, "wellllll bath time was kind of a disaster cause i didn't check their diapers before i took them off...and carrie's diaper was loaded with CRAP." i said, " you didn't check it??...just whipped it off!?" he said, "yeah, she was standing by the tub and pulled the tabs and whipped it off and shit flew everrrrrrrywhere!" (oh my god.) after replaying the commotion in my head that i heard earlier, this all now made sense. (i was also very glad that i decided to stay downstairs.) i said, "so how the hell did her one sock get covered in shit?" he said, "after all the poop flew everywhere else...she sat down on the one sock with her shit covered ass. i couldn't clean up any more shit at that point, so i just laid it on the sink." (holy shit.)

so as the end of last night's activities came to a close, i severely needed a glass of wine but opted for a cup of hot tea instead. i sipped it slowly as butch flipped back and forth between the bowl game...and dvr'd episodes of dateline. tonight, for the sake of my sanity, i made something simple for dinner. (sausage and sweet potato fries). however, i did somehow manage to set off the smoke alarm just as butch was walking in the door. (welcome home honey!) he opened the door and was waving the blustery cold air back and forth so that it would stop beeping. i was covering carrie's ears as she screamed and ella was yelling, "WHATTTTT THAT NOISSSSSE!!!!!!!" (our neighbors love us.) moreover, i'm happy to report that there were no shit explosions in the bathroom this evening during bath time. i also will add that i am glad we are now fully stocked up on toilet paper, should such an episode occur again. however, i really gotta get going...cause i know in approximately one minute someone is going to need something. like a full grown girl scout, i have to know where everything is and be ready for anything...at all times. i'm thinking maybe i should just go ahead put on the goggles for good measure? i'll get right on it.

resolution

when i left work on thursday afternoon, i felt like a complete pile of dog shit. the thought of going to the gym afterwards was enough to make me want to cry...or veer off into oncoming traffic. (either/or) i'd rather eat my left breast on a sandwich then walk through those doors and break a sweat. as i pulled into the parking lot, i thought about pulling right back out. (seriously.) i knew though (in my brain), that after working out i would feel 39% better (give or take) than i did when i walked in. so i pulled up my big girl britches and walked inside. sure as shit, after 45 minutes of running...i felt like i just screwed channing tatum. i felt awesome. (endorphins are no joke.) i'm sharing this because at the beginning of a new year, i'm sure many of you have made a "resolution" to get in better shape or to lose weight. i know this to be a fact in my own town...because yesterday i had to circle the gym parking lot 2 times to find a spot to park, and then i walked in and there were about 52 faces i've never seen before. every machine was occupied as well. (get offffffff!) i can't hate on the new years resolutioners, though...because last year i was one of them! last january i set out on a quest to wear a bikini by june, and by golly i did it. (barely.)

this year, my fitness goals are different, though. after a holiday food and drink bender, i'm ready to get back on track. however, i don't have to lose the same 30lbs that i did last year. this year i want to add weight training to my regimen and i'd also like to add a half marathon to my running repertoire. i also want to mix shit up and do different things to challenge myself. for example, taking a spin class or five...and adding yoga back into the rotation. fen and i are going to start doing hot yoga (yoga at like 323 billion degrees) together this winter and i'm jacked about it. if it's anything like this girl's account of it, i'm totally in: cruel and unusual punishment. (i laughed my ass off.) anyway, i think i had enough chocolate chip cookies and bloody mary's the past month to feed a small country. (actually, i believe i was one beer away from the betty ford clinic.) time to get my shit together and put down the donuts and pick up the dumbbells. i shared with butch that i would like to get back into clean eating and he said (and i quote), "what the hell is that." i said, you know...like paleo, only eating stuff that isn't processed or that comes from the ground? he replied, "that sounds terrible. i'm not doing that." i went on, "don't you feel crappy when you put crappy food in your body!?" he retorted, "no! no i don't feel crappy! i feel quite fantastic, actually. i had a cheeseburger for lunch and then felt awesome! so no, i don't feel crappy." (ok, then.)

when i eat good food and exercise regularly, i feel so much better. i sleep better. my skin is clearer. i have more energy. i'm happier. i don't feel like a pile of dog shit as much and i don't want to veer into oncoming traffic quite as often, either. (oh, and my ass fits into my favorite pair of jeans as well.) i don't want to be all preachy about being healthy, but if you feel like a walking asshole most of the time...you may want to try it. so maybe your resolutions are solely based on fitness goals, or maybe they are much bigger than that. every year (along with these) i vow to laugh more and worry less...and i'm usually able to nail that one. (i've realized over the years that half the shit i worry about, never happens anyway.) moreover, if you are a mommy like me you may be thinking, "i don't have time to pee by myself, let alone find time to work out." you do have time, you have to find it. if you can't make yourself a priority for one hour a day, then you need to reprioritize. however, if you are like my husband and "feel fantastic" after eating fast food...then don't let me stop you from your drive-thru dreams. moreover, in the dead of winter, i always feel my inner ax murderer come to the surface...i hate cold weather and the lack of sun. (exercise counteracts my inner ax murderer.) so tomorrow i choose to halt the holiday bender...get moving more often, put the cookies on the shelf, bag the bloody mary's and (most importantly) laugh along the way. who's coming with me?