Dear husband, I love you, but

You're a moron.
This is one of the many shake-my-head moments of our Thanksgiving.
It started when I asked,  "did you get the giblets out of the turkey? "
Him: They weren't in there
Me: Was the neck in there?
Him: Yes and it looked like a weird dick, so I purposely didn't let you see me handling it...God only knows what joke you would've made.
Me: Then the giblets are still in there, they don't leave the neck without the giblets too
Him: No they weren't... I know what I'm doing! I've seen this done a million times.
Me: Bullshit! You're 36! The most you've seen it done is 50 times and that's taking your early childhood and repeat celebrations into consideration.....
Him: you are such a nerd.....

Fine. ..... 4 hours later while carving turkey. ....
Him: What's this bag?

Shaking my damn head..... I love him but good Lord....what am I going to do with him

Too efficient

I’m efficient with my time

Too efficient

Right now for example I’m typing this out while a work item loads the image view. While listening to amazon music cause it’s better than hearing my coworkers talk.

My brain allows me to focus on both simultaneously. I’m able to seamlessly switch back and forth between the two tasks and not miss a beat. Nothing is lacking, and I’m not “losing time” because I’m still working on something rather than just sitting here for 1-2 minutes at a time just waiting for the screen to load. I can also type at about 98wpm; so that helps.

I’m a freaking machine. At least that’s what I feel like, especially when I say something I’m thinking out loud and someone hears me.

I’m unemotional, and yet I try to rationalize it.

This situation, according to various therapist, is a byproduct of being raised by a psycho of a mother where I had to think two steps ahead just to avoid a beating. Yay abuse…. At least you helped with something…

But yesterday I was trying to look into some options on fundraising for my niece’s D.C. trip when my step-mom (not the abuser) texted me. She was responding to my texts from the previous night and then went on to tell me how busy my sister was.

It hit me.

My sister was avoiding me. I had texted her three days in a row and she had told me how she got sick, kids had lice, she was stressed etc. I said sorry and then laid out why I wanted her to call. I just wanted her thoughts on if my ideas were worth pursuing for the sake of her daughters fundraising. She replied, “I’ll call you at lunch”. Ok, that’s when I pump so I’ll be able to talk privately, great! Or so I thought, because when I did the math to see when my mom was texting me, I figured out it would’ve been five minutes after my sister should’ve called me….

This is what I imagine happened:

My sister had called mom first and said that she needed to talk to me, or answered a call from mom… whatever, she somehow explained that she needed to get back to me and I “didn’t get it”…. Cause I don’t. I don’t understand how you can’t stay on top of your shit.

And it hit me like a ton of bricks.

I’m overly efficient, a "superwoman" according to my husband. I said it out loud, “do I have to fucking chase her down to help her!” husband heard… and parroted back to me.

I can’t stop thinking about it and doing what we always begged our parents not to do, I compared us.

From what I can see in her daily life this is what I came up with:

*three kids (6-13) in school and sports

*works out whenever she can get 15 minutes alone

*works a full time job with a commute

*Up at 5am – down at 9pm

*tries to make sure everyone gets time with her kids (family on both sides are local and within driving distance)

*does her hair and makeup daily

*confused and couldn’t be organized to save her life

*husband home with her in evenings, they split taking kids to various practices

*incredibly social.

*sensitive to what others think of her

*dog that the kids play with to keep him busy.

*She’s the very definition of a MILF.

And then me

I’m a nerd.

*6 month old baby

*calculated and organized

*I choose sleep over my looks and health

* I’m not social, I’ll call/text/skype before I’ll get dressed to go out. (I know you’re thinking I’m lazy, you’re absolutely right).

*I don’t work out. I started the Bikini Body Mommy recently and do it when I can (ie – when the husband isn’t home, I choose sex over a workout…). 

*I couldn’t care less what people think, I’m cold and I’m a bitch but I own that.

*My baby has no sports, he has a bouncer, with me and a camera watching adamantly.

*My dogs take up a good hour of my day with feeding, grooming, getting them in and out with snow… fucking snow. I’m so sick of snow… and having to put a warm rag on their paws when them come in so they don’t get messed up pads gah… dogs… sorry… little tangent there.

*I make sure my in laws get skype time when my husband is home (we hope for at least once a week)

I should note that my husband has an insane schedule, nothing routine/consistent about it and it drives my OCD self CRAY CRAY!

*I email my parents and update our shutterfly every Saturday morning so that everyone can “be involved”

*I send picture msgs to family and friends.

*I work full time and use the down time at work to get other stuff done (like searching for fundraising ideas)

*I take a full load of online classes, scheduled out so I can hang. This semester was 2 intense 8 week classes and 2 regular 16 week classes. So that first 8 weeks I had the full 4 classes and basically busted ass on the short classes. I am paying for it now by having to work harder in these classes to make up for the shortcomings early on in the semester.

*up at 5am – down at 9pm (with frequent wake ups in between- nursing baby)

SO I’m looking at this list I made and going through point by point. Missing my family and insanely jealous of the support my sister gets that I will, frankly, never get. She can take kids three miles to grandma’s house and have them feed, cleaned, cared for, she can get fed and cared for… I’m 1700 miles away.
I have tried to make it out there but it’s expensive and hard with getting days off. I keep telling myself that the next vacation is going to be OUR vacation, that WE are going to go somewhere, but everyone demands time with us and/or baby so it becomes a “let’s go home and visit” and we can’t get out. I have it on my list for this weekend to start looking into cruises (so I don’t have to fly with a baby) this next year when little man is old enough. Truth be told. I’ve always been envious of my sister. Do I think if I had her life I’d be better at it?....of course, the egomaniac in me won’t let me lie about that.  But I’m insanely jealous of her and her life.

But I sat here comparing us and thinking, what the fuck! I’m trying to help you and you can’t spend fifteen fucking minutes on the phone with me; while driving (she has a Bluetooth I would NEVER expect her to put herself and others in danger to talk to me), while at one of the practices, while waiting for dinner, I’m two hours ahead frigging call me when I’m trying to HELP! It’s not like I’m calling and requiring your attention for hours on end crying about the last guy that left me (someone we both know). I’m not calling to ask you a million questions on what your schedule is because I know it’s crazy and you haven’t figured out Google calendar (the fact that she can keep tabs on her kids in her head amazes me btw). I’m not even calling you to tell you how excited I am that little man is rolling over and laughs when the walkers growl on the Walking Dead… though I am dying to get the chance to actually connect with you that way…. Because I understand that you’re busy.

I know that life is crazy.

I understand… and yet I don’t.

Mostly because I’m crying that we can’t talk like that.

That I live so far away that I can’t come to the baseball and soccer games to support my nieces and nephew.

I’m crying that I’ve missed every single choir performance of my niece while she’s been in Jr. High.

Crying that I can’t just drop by and hang out on Saturday while you do laundry; and I try to entertain your kids while you try to mop, without them running in and out, making it worse. The phrase “cleaning with children is like brushing your teeth with a mouthful of Oreos’” was MADE in her house….

I hate that mom felt she had to defend your time! That she heard the stress/dread in your voice when you said you had to call me. That it’s not a fun thing to call me during your lunch. I’m not a source of relief and apparently a call to me will be a barrage of questions/stress, nothing to look forward to… even when I’m just trying to help you and provide you with some relief, especially financial as you try to raise funds to send your daughter on a fantastic memory-making trip.

This trip for her is important to me too… I never got to go on mine. It wasn’t even a question of money (well it was, but by the time I had asked to go I had already raised $1300 on my own and could’ve done the rest on my own…yay abuse) but my mother said no. I was crushed. I had to donate my earnings to another student (who was grateful) but that meant that while all my friends were having a great time I was one of 5 kids who were basically left watching movies in classes because EVERYONE (including teachers) was on that trip…. I don’t want that for my niece.

So I’ve compared. I’ve contrasted. And now I’m just hurt…. Now I don’t want to meet with the guy upstairs in compliance to find out about getting the correct paperwork so I can get this fundraiser going out here in the middle of nowhere… during my lunch. Now I just want to cry, and crying at work is never a good thing.

Guess that's my bonus for not wearing makeup... no crying eyes....

Little man and the stink eye

No this is not a post on pink eye.

Until I fart and shat on A's pillow too much.... THEN there will be a post on pink eye.

So this is the story of little man getting his shots, because we vaccinate. The first set of shots was so sad because he had such skinny legs. He cried so hard that he kept his eyes closed even when I put him back on the tit. This time around I made A go with me, the idea being that he would hold him and then pass him to me where I would be tit out and ready immediately.

Little man is laying on the table when they tell A to hold his hands and distracte him. So A is calling him and he looks over, makes eye contact with A and smiles.... that smile turned to a look of confusing.... to anger/betrayal.... to sobbing. I'm ready boob out, burp rag in place, ready to soothe my little man.... Instead A picks him up and starts to bounce him saying "it's okay,  daddy's here"..... are you fucking kidding me*.... so I say "give him to me NOW" and get little man on the boob.... He sucks,  cries,  sucks,  cries. ... right about then the nurses have picked up everything and are telling us to take as much time as we need he did such a good job blah blah blah.... little man pulls off the tit turns his head all the way around arching his back to see them.... and gives them the stink eye! They say oh my god.... and he turns back and sucks the boob.
Right then
It was that moment I knew not only does this child have my attitude,  but that he watches me. Can not tell you how many times, while driving especially, that I'll make sure someone sees me so I can give them the stink eye! That was exactly what he did, he made sure he had eye contact and gave them the look.
I was dying with laughter! A was just shaking his head.

My child is amazing.

*In case you feel you need to rip me a new one about how wonderful your husband is and how dad's can comfort just as much as mom's. One, you may have a great husband, but you're wrong. Two, my husband is, like, never here. We work that way because I don't need him around all.the.time. In fact, most days I function better without him here. And we've proven that I can shoot better than him in multiple occasions. So his whole trip on trying to comfort little man first was more for him than for little man. So it pissed me the fuck off. My baby is in pain and you're trying to soothe your own ego. Want to be a more involved parent? Be here more!
Rant over

A world of bars...

I apparently live in a world of bars. I have friends here, friends that drink with me. I know I haven't gone out for drinks in at least a year thanks to being pregnant and having baby to breastfeed but c'mon, I'd like to get something good to eat in this town.
Here's what happened a few weeks ago.
My friends were meeting up for lunch on a weekday, I was still on maternity leave, and they were all taking long lunches. New bar and grill in town that they wanted to try so we decide to meet there for lunch. I'm trying to get baby ready and running late. They text saying they got a table and waiting for me.
I get there, and as I'm walking in to where I see them sitting I hear this:
"UH ma'am MA'AM... you can't take your baby into the bar"...
UMMM what bar, I'm going to the table with my friends...
"no you're walking into the bar, the dining area is full right now"
Needless to say because of me and my baby we had to wait twenty more minutes and they had to set up another table ... way to make me feel like a moron. It was a bar AND GRILL... how was I supposed to know that 90% of their seating is BAR...
and it got me thinking... and OCD researching
22/31 restaurants that I would frequent in town pre-baby are straight up bars hiding behind food. Good food too, food that I want, food that I crave.... food that I apparently can't get with a baby in tow.
So now I'm just sitting here, craving a burger, but apparently the only burgers that are worth it are at BARS... damnit
damn
damn
damn...
#itookmybabytoabar
#iwasnttrying

Top less at the Capitol

What? Wait...what!? You mean you've never been top less at the state Capitol?
Well, I have... not for fun either, although if I found that to be fun I think I would need to reevaluate how I have fun.
Anyways
Have a baby. Work at Capitol where just almost EVERY department has a "bring your baby to work til they are 6 months old policy"...almost because my department doesn't, which sucks, but I digress.
Law mandates that they provide a space and break time for me to drain the tata's for little man. Problem being they have ONE room in the ENTIRE Capitol building for nursing mothers. ONE! when I got back to work and tried to get on the list to use the room I found myself being one of NINE women rotating in that room. Do the math. It doesn't work out. So I tell my boss. I tell LA LECHE LEAGUE. I tell building services. I tell whoever will listen. What I got back.... find a room to do your business or go home. There are a couple of small meeting rooms that my boss was able to say I could use.... until our rush part of the year comes then it's first come first serve....translation: I'm assed out.
Fine
I go up to observation deck.
I put my little "breastfeeding in progress" sign on the door
I block the door with an angled chair.
I take my top off & put on my "hands free" pumping bra (which looks far more ridiculous than it sounds if you can imagine that)
Get hooked up to machine
Sit back and start to read
And then I hear it, the sound of a child running around without a care in the world. I think "parent needs to leash that kid" as I log on to amazon to browse for what leash I should get for little man.
The noise is now accompanied by a scream.... and more screaming.... oh goodie,  little Johnny asshole wants a cookie....then more running.
Then the bang, he's run into the door, I wonder if mr. Entitled thinks it should've magically opened for him as he screams "what's in there!?! I want to go in thereeeeeeeee!"
No you don't little buddy.
I see the knob turn ... I can literally FEEL his frustration.
Then a kick at the door.... kudos on teaching respect mommy....
And then as I hear mommy finally catching up.... He breaks through with one glorious grunt.
I growl.
It was instinct. A guttural growl...
The absolute look of confusion was one I will never forget because I had actually turned around to face him hearing him push through.
He bursts into tears!
I point to my boob and say "want some chocolate milk or strawberry" as his mother grabs him and without so much as an apology slams the door.

I laugh. Finish pumping. Pack up. And start to head out.
I open the door to see little Johnny asshole with what must've been grandma... and mommy starring at me from across the hall.
She marches over and, I shit you not, says, "you shouldn't be doing that in there. That's what a restroom is for! And you told my child that's where his chock milk comes from!? What is wrong with you?"
I was totally taken aback. But still managed to reply, "if that is what a restroom is for then you have done some horribly foul things in my nursing space" and walked away thinking it was over.
Only to hear her yell behind me, "you shouldn't be top less at the Capitol"...

I agree.

Reason #22

to be pissed with my mother in law.
hey y'all! I know it's been awhile but... I finally got pregnant, had the baby, took time off work, and just got back into my new "normal". So I'm back.
I have this list I made in my google drive of shit my mother in law does that makes me respond in varying degrees from shaking my head to making me scream. All things that I'm swearing never to do with my child(ren)
#22... made me scream
So we have a baby, he's great. We have daycare nearby, almost as great. My mother in law came out for A's birthday and forth of July celebrations and in doing so met my day care lady... they exchanged numbers and we thought nothing of it.
And then the first day of day care was coming up so we took little man to go over for a "preview day"... I was a wreck. At some point it came up that my mother in law texted her...something like this:
A: we're so glad you are able to watch him, and that he's known you for awhile, makes it like family.
DC: speaking of family, your mom texted me the other day
A: oh yea about what?
DC: she wants me to send her pictures of little man when he gets here
A:... ummm...excuse me?
me: we haven't even asked you to send us pictures yet
DC: well you know some grandparents have a hard time adjusting to being GRANDparents and not THE parents.
A: ummm ok... I guess it doesn't matter if she's included she'll see them later anyways
***change of subject***

A calls his mother that night and mentions that discussion... his mother acts as though there was nothing wrong with going around us and asking for pictures directly from day care lady. He figured just calling her out on it would be enough... but the next day while I was an emotional wreck at my first day back at work I got a picture message from our day care. It was also sent to the MIL.... fine... but then... a response... to a group message... in case you didn't know... is sent to everyone in the group message... and the MIL response was as follows:
"OH my he's getting so big! Haven't seen pictures of him since we flew out there last month. Glad someone with experience is finally taking care of him! Thank you so much!"
Ok. I can blame new mommy hormones for about 30% of my knee jerk reaction to want to punch her in the throat.... and this is why.
I take about 30-50 pictures a week of my little man, usually in spurts of three to four at a time. At the end of each week I upload them to our Shutterfly account and share all but the ones with my boobs in them on our shutterfly share site, of which she is a member. So I log on and it shows that she was looking, liking, and commenting on pictures not even 24 hours prior to that statement of haven't seen pictures. so suck it bitch.
and do I really need to point out why her comment of someone with experience is offensive...
So I reply back TO ALL saying, yes we are so grateful to have DC taking care of little man in our absence. When I picked him up I made it clear she was no longer to be included on pictures, I didn't even have to explain, she understood and said no more pictures to MIL unless they come from us, as it should be.
Praise Jebus
And that ladies and gents is reason number 22 to be pissed at my mother in law.