In need of a vice

Tonight someone stopped by my house. I was in the middle of making dinner. Something I haven't done in over a week. Why? Because I had Brandon's birthday party meaning I had family in and out all week. Even when I didn't have family staying here we were still out to dinner with them or something. Friday I had the day off and I spent the first half of the day at the stores buying some new bedding and some other odds and ends. Then family came by and we went out bowling and to dinner. Saturday I spent the day in my room. I decluttered my bathroom counters, did some laundry, and picked up parts of the house. Saturday night Rob and I didn't have Brandon and Codi actually napped so we just sat down ate dinner and watched a movie together. It was nice. Sunday I did a lot of grocery shopping, all of Brandons laundry, Robs laundry and washed the whites (Rob folded them). I got everything ready for the week, laid out Brandons change of bedding for school and cleaned up some of his toys. I even cleaned part of my bathroom and washed some rugs. Sunday night I went to a birthday party and had a great time. I needed that. While I got a lot done this past week, at the same time I didn't' get shit done.

Back to the point. Tonight someone stopped by as I was cooking. They were there a short amount of time and the only two things they could say was, my garden died and it was my fault and my house was a mess. Which of course was my fault. They left and I was deflated. Here I was just trying to cook a meal for my husband since I haven't done it all week and the life was sucked right out of me. I stood there for a minute and all I could think was I want to have a shot. Nope can't do that. Fine I'm going to smoke something. Nope can't do that. Fine I'll eat a donut. Nope can't do that. Well what the fuck. I'm all out of vices. Someone suggested running. Sure let me just stop dinner and take of running. Nope can't do that. I need a real vice. A quick fix and I got nothing. So I did the most logical thing I could think of. I rocked out to my new favorite song and then set out cleaning. I cleaned the bath tub, bath seat and toys. I emptied all of the trashes. Cleaned off all of the kitchen counters. Got two loads of laundry in the wash and one is in the dryer. I put all the mail in my designated "ignore" pile and cleaned off the top of the washer and dryer (my end of the day catch all for junk). I put away the clothes on my dresser and set to work wiping random shit down. I realized I was angry at the comment that person made. Angry that I was finally trying to accomplish something as simple as dinner and it wasn't enough. I'm looking around now at all the other shit I need to do. The table needs wiped down the place mats need changed. The fridge needs cleaned and the pantry needs organized and the fucking donuts are still staring at me.

The truth is that I kind of purposely let my house go some. I thought I would be moving soon and so I thought I would be packing soon. I figured I would finally get a chance to declutter and garage sale some shit. But now, with the house being pushed out even farther I guess I have to suck it up and do a deep fall cleaning.

I just wish I had a vice. I wish I could be responsible enough with my drinking to just throw a few back tonight. The sad truth is, I probably could handle it now. I'm in a different place but I won't let myself find out. I think that if I ever took another drink I would be so let down that would send me spiraling. It's become sort of a game now. How long can I go with out drinking. But the other truth is, I'll always have my depression, I'll always have the lows like I'm having now, and I'll never be able to tell the difference between tossing some back to relax and tossing a bottle back to drown my sorrows.

I think I'm lucky I've made some new great friends. I think lately those friends have been my saving grace. Still though, I don't have a vice. Do you have a vice? What is yours? Are there any vices out there that I can do while nursing that won't affect my waist line, and that aren't too too illegal?

Click over here

I'm not entirely sure what I should write here. Lately so many people have been going through financial difficulty. A lot of us bloggers have ads on our page. The best way for us to get paid is for people to click on those ads. The problem is, so many people use feed readers instead of actually clicking the link to their page. Since you do that we don't even get the revenue for a page view let alone the ad clicks. The idea this month is to ask people to click out of their feed readers and click on at least one ad.

Personally I love getting my ad check every month. It is small but its enough money for a half tank of gas or a box of diapers. It's always a relief. I can only imagine how many other moms out there depend on their checks too. So please, this month click out of your feed reader and click on the ads. I'll make it easy, here is my direct link.
http://wilddreemer.blogspot.com/
You can also click the button below for a list of other blogs who need help with ad revenue. Once you click on their page click around some into their archives. Each page view helps with revenue.

Thanks a million!

Send nose plugs

I just went into our master bathroom to take a pee. I was suddenly overwhelmed by the smell of death. I wadded up a ton of toilet paper, covered my nose and prayed for a gas mask. I finished walked out and looked at Rob and asked "did you just die in the bathroom?"

He replied with a blank "I didn't do anything" face and then adked if I as ted to ride with him to get a breafast burrito.

A burrito with beans.

BEANS

Who wants to be stuck at home with me and the death ass today?

Sent from my iPhone

Hey where are you

I heard Codi crying while I was cleaning my room. He started crying harder and harder so I finally looked down to see why. Seems he got himself in quite a pickle huh.

New bedding

Close up of my new sheets

Now if any of you have a nice chocolate brown king size bedroom set with dresser two night stands and media armoir that your giving away for free I'll be good to go!

So how was your morning?

I haven't even had my coffee yet

Bathroom tales

I'm an over wiper. Yes I said it. I like to make sure I do a good job wiping. Which is why at least once a week I reach down to get in a really good wipe and,

DUNK

I find my hand touching the toilet water. The toilet water I just peed in. Don't you hate it when that happens?

That doesn't happen to you?

No.

Well then I digress.

Yesterday my cousin Lisa and I went to visit Ben n Jerrys. We were enjoying some ice cream when I decided I had to pee. I trotted off to the bathroom and mid walk my Iphone beeped in my pocket. So I pulled it out and started reading an email from my new pal Katie. I pee, wipe and flush.

I said flush.

Nope. This toilet doesn't flush. Seems it hadn't for a while because tons of toilet paper is now swirling around. The mom in me kicks in and I reach next to the toilet, grab the plunger and go to work. About 40 seconds into my plunging I freeze and realize I AM PLUNGING BEN N JERRYS TOILET.

What the fuck was I thinking?

I dropped the plunger ran out and mumbled something about the toilet not flushing. Then I hauled ass back in there realizing I hadn't washed my hands.

How embarrassing is that? What kind of person plunges a public places toilet when they didn't even plug it?

I'm an ass!

It's a small world

When I started blogging I was a lurker for, oh about, 23 seconds. Then I was like fuck this I want to comment. I made friends and found people in different parts of the world and it was all fun. Then one day I started finding people I knew. First I found Emery. I had known her since elementary school. Then Sharilee found me and took FOREVER to comment. A couple other people from school found me and then one day Jen found me. The cool thing about blogging was that people could read and decided if they liked me or not. Emery and I still chat here and there. Sharilee and I remain great friends and for a while Jen and I were pretty close. It's crazy what a small world this blogging thing is. I've stumbled upon other people I went to school with too.

Today I got a really hilarious comment from a blogger I wasn't familiar with. I strolled over to read about her and comment back. Suddenly I found a picture and realized DUDE I WENT TO SCHOOL WITH YOU. She wrote back saying sending me a link that was actually about me. I'm linking this for two reasons, 1. her post is pretty funny and 2. Her entire blog is pretty funny. Her name is Katie. Hi Katie nice to meet you again.

Anyway, now my interest is piqued. Are there any other bloggers out there who know me? Are you secretly reading thinking, yup shes just as looney as she was in second grade? If so delurk. I love meeting up with old friends and talking.

I guess I'm declaring today national delurk on Shannons blog day. Let me know, who are you, how did you find me and do you know me in real life. Then I'll follow the link and come read about you. I'm always looking for fun new blogs to read and there is no better way to get traffic then to comment. So comment away and I shall follow!

Life

My mom asked me last night how I've been. My reply was OVERWHELMED. I notice signs often through out the day telling me I'm heading back down that spirally dark place again. When I notice this happening the hardest part is realizing that I notice it the most in my parenting.

I don't know if Brandon is just experimenting lately with ways to annoy me or if it's just the monster in me that makes him so hard to handle. Either way he's spent a lot of time in time out. Right now the issue at hand is not listening. This isn't general toddler assholey not listening either, this is a new form that I call FUCKYOUMOM. I tell him to do something like "finish your pancakes." He will look at me and say no. Then he will just walk away. Then ask for something, to which I reply, "finish your pancakes." To which he replies "I SAID NO." It goes round and round and before you know it he's in time out. Time out used to mean he would sit in there and be quiet because he was still playing with his toys. Now it means he screams and cries to the point where I'd rather let him sit out here and be a bossy little asshole to me then listen to him fucking cry in time out for five minutes.

He wants more milk and I told him no milk till you finish his pancakes. His choice is then to sit at the table and bang his milk cup until he bangs all fucking sanity from my head and I end up yelling, "FINISH YOUR PANCAKES OR GO TO TIME OUT." His reply was, "NO I WANT NILK NOW NOW NOW RIGHT NOW MOMMY NOW."

Can you guess where he is?

He's sitting in his room crying, "I don't want to be in time out." So I told him, "Brandon if you don't want to be in time out finish your pancakes." He came out and started crying for me to hold him. I told him to finish his pancakes, that was part of the deal to getting out of time out. Instead he chooses to sit here and cry to me that he won't eat his pancakes, he wants daddy, and that the is "SO SAD." While every bone in my body just wants to hold him and make him stop crying the brain in my head says, NO Shannon he needs to learn to listen to you. He is now back in his room in time out crying and crying and crying about daddy. In case you are wondering he can actually cry in his room for a god 30 minutes before I will have no choice but to go in and get him so he can go to school.

I don't understand why he can't just have the sense to listen to ME. He listens to his teacher, his dad, my mom, my dad, the kid across the street, my cousins and fuck he probably would listen to the mailman. So why is it only me that my son refuses to respect?

Last night he wanted a toy. I told him he could have it if he just put away his three other toys. He actually cried on the floor of his room for 25 minutes about not cleaning toys and wanting daddy. What do I do in those situations? Do I go in and try and appease him or let him scream? Some days parenting is so hard. All I know is at the end of the day, he's doing a lot of crying and yelling and so am I.

Yesterday he asked me for some whipped cream. I told him tomorrow at breakfast he could have it on his pancakes. So he went and asked dad. Dad said okay. Rob was in the bathroom so he had no idea I had said no, but still, it just aggravated me that he didn't listen and went and asked Rob.

Codi is going through a phase where he won't sleep with out a boob perma-affixed in his mouth. That means from about 9pm till about 5am he is attached to me like the handle I crazy glued back to my coffee mug. If I try and pull him off and lay him down he starts screaming immediately. The odd thing is he naps fine during the day. The more obnoxious part is a few weeks ago he started a new thing where he would have some milk, pull himself off, roll over and sleep all on his own. Now I feel like I sleep with a tiny suckerfish, only it's a suckerfish who farts and cries a lot.

My husband plays softball till September and as much as I know he needs a hobby I'm pretty much sick of softball. I guess softball wouldn't be so bad if I had a hobby too. I am trying to pick up running but it's hard to run when the days he doesn't have softball he wants to work out or drive all the way out to the field to hit balls. I got to run on Tuesday, and won't get to again until Friday because he had a game Wednesday and tonight he's driving all the way clear across town, wasting gas to hit balls. This probably would be fine if he didn't leave me home alone with a 3 year old who insists on spending the first 25 minutes crying about missing daddy, the next 30 minutes crying about how mean I am for making him clean, the next 30 minutes crying because I won't let him have sugar for dinner, 8 minutes crying because the phone rand and I need to talk on it not him, and the next 45 minutes crying because it is dark outside and he wants to go to sleep with daddy not take a bath and wait for daddy. All this time he is screaming my baby is screaming for a tit, or to be held or played with, and when I'm in a downward spirally kind of spot it's easy to say softball can really be the straw that broke the camels back. And by broke I mean snapped it in half, then beat it with a dead stick, then locked it in the closet and buried it alive.

I actually sent my husband a text last night saying I was going to lock myself in the closet to hide from all the screaming. If you’re wondering Brandon is still in his room screaming over and over and over DADDY DADDY DADDY DADDY. All the fucking kid had to do was eat his last goddamn pancake.

It's been 33 minutes. He is still screaming. We have to leave for school in 26 minutes and I have 3 people to get ready. I guess mom has to give in and go get him one more time. I just walked by his door and noticed he's not only crying and yelling for daddy he's actually laying on the floor kicking his feet as he does it.

So. For those of you wondering how I'm doing? I'm barely holding on. I'm feeling like a fucking asshole. I'm snappy and rude and cranky and bitchy. I'm doing a lot of bitching. I'm doing a lot of poor me, and I'm pretty sure I walk around with a fixed scowl on my face!

I saw the doctor the other day, and she followed up with me about where I was last time we talked. Last time I talked to her was the day I found out I was pregnant with Codi. She asked my thoughts on starting medicine and agreed that if I can hold out for the sake of breast-feeding that I should. Something in the way I was talking to her made her ask me how I was. I guess she could see the big FUCK YOU sign on my head or something. Either way, she wants me to call her as soon as I wean so we can talk more about making me less of a fucker and more of a lover!

** Update: It's now been one hour and 7 minutes of him laying on the floor alternating between screaming about daddy and nilk. I finally opened the door and calmly said, "Brandon stop crying." I asked him if he was talking to me like a big boy and he said no. I said what do you have to do to get the milk and he replied, "ask nicely, stop crying." So I asked what he wanted to do, he stopped crying, looked at me and said, "I have nilk please?" He's okay now but I'm not. I'm mad I yelled. I'm mad I got so mad about it all. I'm mad that I can't always handle being a mom. Maybe I'm not mad maybe I'm more sad.

Oh and about that

No I didn't just give up on the clusterfuck house blog. The insurance company and the builder have been goign through the house better to make sure they have it all figured out and they have enough money set aside. The number now is pretty large I'm stunned it could get bigger. I will post as soon as I have more pictures!