Friday, September 12, 2014

It's my pity party and I'll cry if I want to

I didn't cry when I came out of the bathroom and found Corbin's formula dumped on the counter. 

I didn't cry when minutes later Emme squeezed and shook her blue Tummy Yummy into the carpet in her room. She even smooshed it in real good with her feet and did a demonstration of her naughty actions. 

I didn't cry when she emptied her sock drawer and hung every single one up on a hanger.  That was actually pretty funny and made it easy to find matching socks this morning. 

I didn't cry after finding spilled milk from a sippy cup hidden under a blanket and once again smooshed into the carpet. 

I didn't cry after I noticed writing on Corbin's toy blocks. 

I didn't cry when I had to drag two screaming kids to the car in front of all of Wheeler Farm after Emme punched Corbin in the face and I told her she couldn't have a cookie anymore. 

I didn't show that my feelings were hurt after hearing an almost four year old call me stupid over and over and over and then wishing death upon me from a snow monster.  

I didn't cry when a laundry basket was thrown at me. 
I didn't even cry after both of my children refused to nap. 

So what made me have a mini breakdown today....?

When I noticed this same child writing with a pen all over my ottoman and then saw she stabbed holes in it for good measure. 

Apparently... ruining furniture is my breaking which I will sob and sob while said child is locked in her room and her brother jabbers behind me. 

Aftershocks like spraying hairspray all over the walls and smearing lotion into the carpet may make me fight back tears, but I refuse to cry. Especially, when I get comments like, "show me how I made you cry, mom."

I think it's safe to say I'm having issues now that Corbin is all over the place and I can't keep my eyes on Emme at all times.  

Please send Diet Coke. 

Thursday, September 4, 2014

The Walmart Diaries

Today was the day. 

The day I HAD to take both kids by myself to Walmart.  Cue tragic music. 

When you have a special needs child there are certain things you should avoid at all costs. For Emme that would be taking her to the grocery store or any store for that matter.  

If both Gregg and I are there, it is possible, yet still very difficult. But today...he was not. 

I had one goal which was to get baby food.  Do I need to get groceries big time? Yes, but to avoid a trip down the crazy town aisle our mission included only the most necessary items. 

Now before you lecture me on not making my own baby food, let me remind you that I don't even have time to BUY baby food let alone make it. Let's not get cray here. 

Overall, Walmart was a success.  Emme only screamed bloody murder once because I too quickly sailed past the treats in the middle of the cement road to which she jumped off the cart and hit her head on a shelf.  Corbin only cried once from being squished by his sister.  All in all, not too shabby.  With an unplanned bag of marshmallows we made it to the checkout line in record time. 

They had one lane open (ugh walmart) to which me and another older gentlemen came to at the same time.  There were two people already in line, but I let him go ahead because he only had a few items. Mistake mistake mistake.  The one checker was a new worker and the man in front of me priced matched every. single. item. The lady had no idea what she was doing and we had to wait for a supervisor to come over to fix her mistakes. 

Now, for heaven's sakes. If you come to a checkout lane at the same time as someone with children and one is squishing and hitting the other, please let them go ahead of you.  

With Emme about to blow a lid, the time came that we finally felt the warm breeze on our cheeks again and we were free.  Just as I was about to get in the driver's seat, the same older gentlemen stopped me to ask if I price checked.  I quickly threw my head back, cackled and then I replied, "I have NO time to look through all of that!"  I mean how dare he, am I right?  

Apparently, he just wanted to warn me that the cashier had charged him way more than she was suppose to and I should check my receipt.  Oh.  Sorry dude.  

I may or may not be a little sensitive when it comes to the more domestic parts of life. At this moment in time I am a failure at all things homemaking.  I look foward to a day where I can make cute crafts and plan meals well in advance or save our family money by couponing.  

I think for now though, I will focus on things like keeping Corbin safe from Emme and getting through a Walmart check out line with my sanity still in tact. 

Monday, September 1, 2014

Three Thrings

1.  Having a husband in grad school is lame.  I am not handling the new school year well.  It may be the death of me.  Say a pray for me, please?

2.  Emme is in the stage of revertigo. Meaning she has reverted back to her old ways. We have lost ground big time. We lowered her meds which helps her sleep now, but the days are long and sometimes torturous.  Scratching and biting are a staple the last few weeks.  My arms look like I have a cat. A mean hateful cat that would rather shred apart the house than have anything to do with order.  Revertigo Emme may be the death of me. Please say a pray for me. 

3.  My face is a battlefield of acne. Summer has not been good to my skin. I can't figure out if it's the change in my diet, the sunburns, or the world being against me, but I'm thirty here people. It needs to stop.  I have one smack dab in the middle of my forehead right now that is so big I think it's actually four squished together.  Other honorable mentions are the many smaller yet still huge zits surrounding it.  I'm ready to climb to my tower and start ringing the bell for the local village. Goitre face Lacey may be the death of me. Please say a prayer.