Conversations with inanimate objects: The pacifier edition.

Captain Awesome is two.  Captain Awesome is ornery. The dipshits who built the house we live in did not tack down the vents, which they put in the FLOOR. Hence, the vents are rarely covered in this house because Captain Awesome finds great joy in taking them and putting them in random places around the house, like on the toilet seat. (I really wish I would have taken a picture of that.) He also delights in throwing shit down said vents, and thanks to my Go-Go-Gadget arms, I have been able to retrieve all items.  Until last night...

*Camera pans to small child, giggling evilly, while lifting vent out of floor.  He puts the vent to the side, and attempts to crawl into space.  Frustrated at his failure, he grabs the closest thing he can reach, his pacifier.  After contemplating said pacifer, he throws it into the depths of the vent, not unlike the dude on Beastmaster throwing shit on the pyre, assuming his mother will come to the rescue...


Me:  Seriously?  Leave the vent alone, and quit throwing things down there you want to keep, because someday they'll go too far down for me to reach!

C.A.:  *cheesy grin*

Me:  *shoves arm down vent up to the shoulder, bravely braving what creepy crawlies may or may not live in said vent*  SEE?!?!?  I CAN'T REACH IT!  IT'S GONE FOREVER!

C.A.: *sits on dog*


Me: *puts face near vent*  Hey little pacifer, it's okay.  I'm so sorry he did this to you.  I know it's dark down there.  Are you alright?  Do you need a night light?  REACH FOR ME!  No?  Okay.  You may like it down there, actually.  I bet it's quiet.  And now he can't throw you, or chew on you, and neither can the dog.  Maybe I should join you down there.  I like quiet.  Can I get you anything?  Are you giving me the silent treatment?  I miss you.  He's going to miss you.  I'd say he's sorry, but I'm not so sure he is.  Is there anything else down there to keep you company?  You know, like a random Lego or spiders?  Because pacifier, if there are spiders, I expect you to go all dragon-slayer on their asses, because I am not having spiders in the house.  Are you even listening to me?  You're probably on some Pacifier Indiana Jones adventure, while I look like a complete fuckstick talking into a vent.  Maybe your adventure is more Goonie-ish.  I hope you know how to play the piano, or your pretty much fucked.  If you find One Eyed Willie, will you bring me back some sparkly things?  I like sparkly things.  Well, both of my kids and the dogs are staring at me now, so I should maybe fix dinner or something.  But I'll be back tomorrow.  You're not alone, I promise.  Nai-nai.

*If anyone wondered before this post whether or not I needed help, I think the answer is now clear.

Oh, Internet... Quit making me be so serious.

You know, we all are flawed people.  There is no such thing as a perfect human being; we may have been made in His image, but He also granted us free will, therein allowing us to screw up all over the place.  Learn something, humans!  Yeah, about that...

I can pinpoint the minute my self-esteem took a nose-dive. I was in fifth grade. My Violet is in the fifth grade. Don't think I don't stare at that pink elephant every day. I do. And I'm trying my damnedest to make sure that that girl knows her self-worth.  Luckily for her, being a member of this society, she is thin, and absolutely beautiful. I was chubby with bad hair, not great clothes, and I was the new kid at school. May I remind you that Kelly rhymes with jelly and belly? Hence, the little masons inside started bricking up those walls at lightening speed, starting at age TEN.

I look at photos of myself at age 17 and wonder why I hated myself so much. I look at me now, and my flaws and imperfections - they're ME.  This body has walked an unknown number of miles, brought life into this world, danced, ran through sprinklers, felt the power of a horse beneath it - how quick we are to call babies miracles, yet forget that we are walking ones ourselves?

Learning to find the beauty in ourselves for those of us who truly don't believe the compliments we've been/are given is a daunting task - like trying to climb up an icy hill with high heels on.  Over the past few days, at the age of 35, I've realized the skies are finally parting for me and I'm finally starting to get it.  Starting to truly understand that I am a person who deserves to be happy and to be proud of herself and to not get all Stuart Smalley on y'all, but dammit, I am good people.  I have an amazing family who raised me right, yet despite that, in my 20s, I got dealt a pile of shit. But now? I am going to slam these bones down and yell, "DOMINO, MOTHERFUCKER!", because for the first time in my life, I feel how I've wanted to feel for years - strong, determined, loved, able, and willing - not meek, tattered, and broken. These demons will be exorcised.

I think I just had a Towanda moment.  I am in need of a viking helmet.

Self-love. And not the kind that you're thinking of. Pervert.

Okay, so it's Valentine's Day.  Yahoo?  And being the scattered mom that I am, it appears I'm raising scattered kids, because we both forgot to make amazing Valentines go to Target and buy some amazing Valentines for her class.  Derp?  Yes.  So we'll go tonight and say oops, and she can hand them out tomorrow.  Day late = story of my life.  I highly doubt the world will stop spinning because we forgot valentines.

Anyway, that has nothing to do with my thoughts for today, but I felt I needed to share it, because it was probably the least stupid thing I've done in a while.  Fact.

I was thinking to myself this morning, "Self? Why is it that you don't think you are as fantastic as your dogs and toddler do?"  I assume they think I'm fantastic because none of them this week can get close enough to me without surgical attachment. Either I'm really fucking fabulous, or it's because I feed them.  One or the other.

Unconditional love appears to be so easy for small children and animals.  I say small children, because as you know, I live with a preteen, and don't lie to yourself - their love is TOTALLY conditional.  I don't think I need to provide examples, just think back to when you were in 5th/6th grade and how you felt about your parents. See?  Toldja.  I really don't want to talk much more about animals, because then you know fucking Sarah McLachlan will show up on TV and:

Seriously.  I can't listen to that fucking song without wanting to go adopt ninety bazillion dogs. And then since I can't, I feel like the world's biggest asshole for not.  Fuck you, Sarah.  I bet you only have one dog.  I have two.  I win.

Before I digress even further, I just want to say that I think Valentine's Day is stupid.  If you don't care enough to tell the people you love you love them more than once a year, you should get a big fuck off because you're an asshole, plain and simple.  So, since I try to make a point to tell the people in my life how much they mean to me as often as possible, I'm going to take Valentine's Day to take care of me, because no matter what my demons say, I'm a good person - I kind of have to be, otherwise I wouldn't have so many kick ass people in my life.  And when I say take care of me, it will be in the five minutes I have to spare after the house is clean, kids are fed and bathed, dogs are fed and bathed, dinner is made, cleaned up, and put away, and... okay.  Maybe it won't happen today.  But it will, dammit.  It will.  ;)

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone.  Don't forget to take care of yourself while you're taking care of everyone else.  Because you know you are.

I was my biggest pet peeve today.

Rumor has it in March, we're getting a Publix (which I can't help but call PUBIX in my mind) grocery store. Do you know what this MEANS?!?!?  NO MORE WALMART!  (Sorry Kroger, but you suck donkey balls.  Except when you have 10 for 10.  That's cool.  But your 10/10 stuff blows ass.  Someone had to say it.)

I'm sitting here with a cup of tea (green, if you please - Tazo Zen - is there any other kind?!) snuggling with Sampson (who insists on farting in his sleep, disgusting, but not as bad as it could be since my nose is plugged beyond belief), and thinking about the day.  Which pretty much sucked as much as Kroger does.  I'll not go into details, because it was a combination of things that resulted in a shitball day, but we ended up making a FAMILY trip to Walmart.  And not just any Walmart.  THE ghettoy of the ghetto Walmarts in town.  Why?  Because The Hubs was along "and the lines would be too long".  Oy.  Anyway.

Well, Captain Awesome was wearing his pissy pants, and The Preteen forgot her ears, and taking The Hubs to anywhere that has an electronics area is just stupid if you want to get in and out relatively quickly.  Add on the fact that I've been out of my "take one and the chance of a anxiety attack goes down a little" pills for a couple of days (because my doctor's office scheduling staff are EVIL and hate me) - this trip was doomed by the time we realized we weren't going to find a parking spot within 1/4 mile of the store.

I was one of THOSE people today, you guys.  I yelled at my kids in public.  I did.  I did it willingly and without shame (well, until now).  I might have even said fuck.  Twice.  In the Walmart Subway.  And I was still the least offensive person in there.  So I cried about it, hugged my kids 1000 bajillion infinity times since then, and cleaned up a massive pile of dog poop in repentance.  And I bought swiss cake rolls (why are they swiss?) for The Preteen's lunch tomorrow and Spaghettio's with sliced franks for Captain Awesome (nothing like some fat and MSG for my kids as a reward.  Shut up already.)

Can someone say something to make me feel better?  Please?  Because if you don't, I might be forced to eat a pint of ice cream that I may have bought and hid from everyone.  (It's Phish Food.  That shit is like currency around here.  And it's MINE.)

Mayhem. And I ain't talkin' about Allstate.

Speaking of Allstate, does anyone else think it's awesome that the "You're In Good Hands" guy was the "Fuck You, JoBu" guy on Major League?  Also?  The Mayhem guy used to be on Law and Order: SVU.  I'm full of random knowledge that gets me nowhere.  It's a heavy burden.

Anyway, back to the original topic, which I never properly introduced, and is not be anything resembling funny, is the current state of our nation.  I am saddened, disgusted, and embarrassed by what is going on inside our borders.  And while that is what I'm feeling, people outside our borders are pointing and laughing at us.  Now, part of me is trying to put a silver lining on this insanity, thinking hey, at least this shit is out in the open, and we are being forced to acknowledge that bad shit happens in America every.fucking.day, and hopefully the citizens of this country have learned a fucking lesson about standing up for those who can't stand up for themselves, you cowardly pricks!  Maybe NOW, FINALLY, we can spend some time, attention, and resources on DOMESTIC issues, rather than borrowing money from countries to pay them back (if someone can tell me how the fuck that makes sense, I'd appreciate it).  

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month.  Just ask the NFL.  Disclaimer: before people get all fucking pissy, that I am NOT, in ANY WAY, discounting the seriousness of breast cancer awareness, or research. That being said, October is ALSO Domestic Violence Awareness Month.  April is Child Abuse Awareness Month.  Millionaires who throw a ball around (and that I religiously watch every week), have the easiest platform imaginable to be a part of something immensely important.  The Penn State debacle, while a tragedy and a permanent stain, is a microcosm of the child sexual abuse that happens every day in our country.  

The "Occupy" movement is driving me insane.  Mostly, because I have no idea why they're occupying anything, and chances are, a big chunk of them don't either.  However, whatever you people are protesting, I'm not sure what gives you the right to rape and murder and toss Molotov cocktails in businesses that you have probably shopped in before.

I am embarrassed of our government, and for them, quite honestly.  The only thing that I can be proud of at this point is that I did not vote for Obama.  Sir, with all due respect, quit fucking spending what you don't have, and quit making everything about YOU. (It's WE the people, not I the President.)  My bank doesn't let me spend when I'm out of money, so why do you get to?  And really, all you fucking senators and representatives who were worthless enough to not get voted back into office - why the hell do you get a pension?  Your jobs are to represent those who aren't in Washington, and all you do is represent yourselves and your own interests, such as insider trading.  

I am a patriot.  I am PROUD to be an American.  I am married to a US Soldier.  But this bullshit?  This is NOT what America is about.  I don't know how these people sleep at night.  I don't know how they can pin the Stars and Stripes on their lapels and not be overcome with guilt as to where they are taking my country.

I chose to use this space for this rant, which I really needed to get off my chest, and if anything that I've written is blatantly proven to be false, please feel free - in a non-asshole way - to educate me.   I apologize for any shitty grammar, sentence structure, etc. because to be honest, I typed out my frustration and hit publish.  Back to the funny tomorrow.  Promise.

Perspective.

Lately, I've been feeling pretty darned sorry for myself. My kids were a wreck, my house was a wreck, I was a wreck... and just like always, slowly, but surely, we got our proverbial crap together. It is Easter weekend, and I completely meant to post this yesterday, but like usual when I plan to do something, life tends to rearrange my to-do list.

I realized yesterday (again) that although life right now isn't easy, it isn't supposed to be. Life with Loyd at home isn't easy, either. It isn't supposed to be. When I'm trying to type and Quinn comes over and starts pulling at the laptop or my hands, he's telling me that he needs me, not just being an obnoxious toddler. When Violet is acting out, or talks incessantly, something is bothering her or I need to engage more with her. Just being in the room with my kids isn't enough. Soon the day will come where Quinn won't run over for snuggles or to watch Dinosaur Train in my lap. Soon the day will come where Violet won't want to giggle over hand puppets in the car. I need to eat up these moments with joy, not push them away with frustration. I need to make a better effort to experience life, not constantly pick up clutter. The living room can wait, my kids can't.

Speaking of life being hard, as a Christian, I know that the ultimate sacrifice was given on Good Friday. And here I am complaining about hyper toddlers and obnoxious tweens. Good Friday not only gives me something to think about, it is the most amazing opportunity to talk to my kids about the relationship Jesus had with his Father, and what he did without asking why. I'm not saying that I am no longer allowed to complain, but I should probably think really hard about whether or not it's worth it before I do.

Have a blessed Easter, everyone.

"It was now about the sixth hour, and there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour, while the sun’s light failed. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Then Jesus, calling out with a loud voice, said, ‘Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.’ And having said this he breathed his last.” Luke 23:44-46