Sorry so selfish

Ellen DeGeneres was talking in her opening monologue about selfish conversationalists. Internet, I must confess, I am one. I felt badly even as she was talking about it, because I know I am one, and I know how annoying it is. I do try to work on it, but I've already said "I" or a derivation thereof 9 times in this post. If I've ever commented on your site I'm sure you've noticed it too. I always have to tell some anecdote that goes along with what you were talking about, however peripherally, though I do try not to imply that my story is better -or worse depending on the situation- than yours is.

I'm not completely sure where this comes from. I have a wretched self esteem, so it could be my need to feel like I fit in, or am like people in some way. It could be that I need to feel like people might find me interesting if I've had similar experiences, and it could just be the plain old fashioned need to be the center of attention. It may also being a way of reassuring myself that there are in fact other people like me in the world. I dunno.

Really I think I am over analyzing it, and I'm just selfish, so I'd like to apologize.
I probably wont be fixing it though.

P.S.
And since it's all about me anyway, what are your opinions of my new design? I'm not sure what I think of it. There is another background that I like too, but it's far busier.

It's not you, it's me

I am sure I am not the only person who monitors their blog stats. I may go about it a bit more obsessively than most, I admit that I have three Site Trackers, but everyone is curious about this stuff, right?

So anyway, I don't know how to check how many people subscribe to my site in general, but I do know how to check a couple of different sources. Whenever I get added by someone new it's a rush. Yes, I validate myself through the internet. But anyway, as great as it feels to have someone add me, I'm kind of devastated that I got dropped.

Was it something I said? I'll change, baby. I'll be who you want me to be, just don't leave me. I love you, I can't live without you. All that hopeless co-dependent shit. But I really do feel like I got dumped, and I've been trying to figure out what I did to get dropped, and thinking how maybe if I am really, really clever I will get taken back. How pathetic am I? My God.

I think in a way my reaction makes sense. I don't get out much, and I don't have a lot of opportunity to talk to my real world friends, and when I do it's usually over the internet anyway. I'd started to come to terms with the fact that my friends are online and I don't know what most of them look like. Then I get dumped and it's just as difficult as losing a friend in the real world. See how much I've been thinking about this, and analyzing it? I am a loser.

P.S. I am also doing that loser-y ex girlfriend thing where I say to myself "Well I didn't always think you were so funny, but I kept reading you dammit! I didn't give up! Maybe I should drop you now and see how it makes you feel!"
I'm fucking insane.

Urp

So, the day after I drink I get horrendous acid stomach. Today wasn't so much of a problem until the last hour, wherein for some reason I have commenced belching like Barney from The Simpsons. Whose last name neither I nor Joe can remember. Do any of you know? I mean, yeah, I could Google it but I am feeling particularly lazy.

This is some high quality burping, I tell you.
But I would like it to stop now.

"It's a federal offense" I almost shouted

Internet, have I mentioned I am just a smidge crazy?

So I was looking out the front door earlier and this white SUV pulled up to our mailbox. That's odd, I thought, as our mail-person drives a little silver car. So being the paranoid freak* that I am I decided to watch and see what was going on. Well, then the driver pulled forward and drove into the driveway of the weird neighbors across the street. As they are weird, and often have weird visitors I thought that could make sense. But then the SUV backed up and pulled in front of our driveway, blocking it. So now I'm starting to get all anxious and crazy, when the driver pulled so that she was no longer blocking our driveway. To me this is still aberrant behavior, so I keep watching.

Well, she got out of her car and walked over to our mailbox. I'd already decided if she went over there I was going to say something, and I was toying with wording that involved mentioning the Feds, cause I'm kooky like that. As it was when she stopped in front of it I stepped through the door and shouted "Hey! Get away from our mailbox!" in a voice that was tinged with what I believe was technically hysteria. Adrenaline is a funny thing like that. I stepped back in and went and got Joe, babbling some explanation about mail tampering.

When we got back to the front door she'd moved away from the mailbox, but was taking pictures of the house across the street. Hey! That's creepy behavior! I was justified after all, right? RIGHT?
Yeah, I am a little nuts.


*I had a box of checks stolen from our mailbox in Omaha, so there is sort of a reason for my paranoia on this one.

Home is where the check goes.

Joe locked his keys in the car yesterday, so I had to go in to unlock it. Since I was in Rolla I decided we should go look at houses and apartments. We saw a couple through a local rental agency, but I really don't like them. They are the big guns in town, and as such are full of bullshit and bureaucracy and god forbid you ever need maintenance done.

When I got home I decided to check the online classifieds and after about 20 calls using a calling card, which is a huge annoyance, I found one with very good possibilities. I made arrangements to go see it, and I decided that I want it.

It's nothing overly special, it's your basic two bedroom four-plex, but it felt right. There was someone else looking too, which is okay because there are two units, but here's the thing. One is downstairs and one is upstairs. Sure, it's only one floor, and it's better than the three we had to do in Omaha, but GOD I want the ground floor one. She got there first, and I just know she's going to get it. I'm going to end up being a bad neighbor because I resent her for it.

I am turning in the application today, and I am going to offer them a check for the deposit then in hopes of getting it secured for us. Cross your fingers for me internet. At any rate, we should be in our own home in the next two weeks. So yippee! That's something at least. Then I'll have wireless high speed internet again, and I can put my alcohol in the fridge so as not to hide it from my teetotaling parents. I can watch TV that isn't ESPN or baseball or football (The Chiefs got mauled last night, btw). I can have a couch! My parents have four recliners, which is nice, but I can't sleep in them and when Jack is contentedly playing in his activity seat or play pen I'd like to be able to lay down for a few minutes from time to time. Anyway, yeah, I'm happy.

You shouldn't like me

I had a dream the other night, at first it was just a dream about going to check out a house that we are actually going to look at in real life. So I am walking down this street looking at all these beautiful houses. Now, I have lucid dreams anyway, but me walking when I could drive is the best way to know I was dreaming. Anyway, I get to the one I am looking at and so I go in and walk around. It's perfect. I swear, if I could find this place in the real world I'd take it in a moment. It wasn't new, or modern but there was just something about the space, the layout, it felt like home.

Anyway, I'm looking around when I ran into my friend Patricia. She'd written a story she wanted me to read, and as I am reading I noticed several things that seemed to be references to me, and that were marked with footnotes. So I flip to the back and start reading the footnotes that explain that it is indeed about me, and why and talking quite brutally about my past.

I'm so not innocent internet. I'm a drunk, I've done my share of drugs, and I've done more than one thing or person that embarrasses me. Serious embarrassment. My face can turn red about things that happened five years ago that I doubt anyone else even remembers. I beat myself up about things that I've done, that I know others have done similar or the same, but I also know that most people only have one or two of those stories. I have 50.

For instance? I once broke my hand by repeatedly punching a wall when drunk. See, I'd accidentally told The Dave's girlfriend that he cheated on her. I really did think she knew, I mean, he told us she knew. Well she didn't. And to add insult to injury, I may have told her about person X, but I didn't reveal that The Dave and I had been making out a lot on our own. I really am a terrible person.

So anyway, in my dream the story was painful, and humiliating, and I had to keep reminding myself that I had not ever peed on a tree at a party because I was too drunk to find the restroom. The thing is internet, I don't know how much better that is than getting caught making out on the bathroom floor with what turned out to be another girl's boyfriend. In all honesty I didn't know they were together.
At least it was Joe.

The Dave

Do you know what it's like to lie to yourself? To tell yourself the things that are happeing are not?

My friend Allan and I are weird, fun people. We decided once that we wanted to name someone Brooklyn, the way there's always someone in a war movie called Brooklyn. So when we met Adam we decided he was Brooklyn. To this day, many people don't even know his real name.

The year before we named Brooklyn, we thought it would be funny to call someone by a definite article.
"The Dave" was born.

The Dave was hit by a truck the other day. His spine was broken in several places, a couple of ribs were cracked, his spleen had to be removed, etc.

He made it through the first night, which wasn't expected. He will most likely be paralyzed. I honestly don't know how to deal with this, so I haven't been thinking about it.
He's a wonderful person internet, I don't know where any of us would be without him. Pray?

Tickle me Jackson

So tell me, is there honestly anything better than baby laughter? Jack's been able to full out laugh for a couple of weeks now and I am in heaven. Here's this tiny little person (not so tiny. He's in 6-9 month clothes, but you know what I mean) and he guffaws. I find myself repeating actions that make him laugh over and over again to keep it going. The other day I say "squishy!" in this really odd guttural voice for about an hour because he thought it was the greatest thing since boob juice.
The same thing doesn't work from day to day though. Today "Squishy!" isn't funny, but playing peek-a-boo using his feet to cover my face is hi-larious. He's also doing spastic robot dance moves on the floor, it's a happy thing that he does. My brother says he's like an overexcited puppy who doesn't have proper control of all his limbs, and that really is the best description.

Other things that re great fun include dancing to Ray Charles, playing with the remote (he now has his own remote, the old VCR one, after learning how to actually push the buttons on the real one) and hitting mommy's hands while she's typing. That's almost like a cat that has to bat at any moving object, and equally hilarious. I need to get a laser pointer and see if I can make him chase it.

There is one thing right up there with baby laughter though, and that's when he goes to sleep for the night.

Help!

I occasionally watch those Lifetime Movie of the Week Moment of Truth Without My Daughter movies. I find them funny. Court TV has this really hilarious one on right now called "Death of a Cheerleader" which IMDB says is called "A friend to Die For". It has Kelly Martin and Tori Spelling and I keep watching because at some point Tori Spelling becomes a dead cheerleader.

Man the acting is bad. And Kelly Martin isn't that bad of an actress. But I'm wondering if the producers made her dumb it down a bit to fit in. God forbid one outshine Tori Spelling. I imagine Aaron put up the money somewhere. I have seen her in one movie where she wasn't wretchedly vomitous -The House of Yes- but that's just because her acting style actually worked for the character. I'm being very catty, aren't I? I don't even hate Tori Spelling the way that I do Nic Cage.

I think I'm mostly just bored.
Someone give me an interesting topic to talk about!

Twice now "ER" has very peripherally involved placed I've lived. That's cool, and pathetic that I care.

Also? I wrote the State Librarian a letter of complaint about my librarian. I'm so petty.

Edit: They changed the actress of Dr. Greene's daughter Rachel with no warning, and now they have done the same with Sam's son Alex. WTF? I think they think we wont notice.

Book you, lady!

I'm a reader. In that I read an average of five books a week, even now that I have a baby. I'll admit when Jack was a newborn it slowed me down a bit, what with the constant no sleeping, nursing, and weeping. I'm back in the saddle though, so after I plowed through my dad's Grisham collection, and my mom's Beverly Lewis books I knew I had to get over the whole not leaving the house thing and go to the library.

Now, Omaha spoiled me a bit. I could request books online, then go pick them up when they were ready. There were like eleventy million branches and I could get pretty much anything in about a day. Well, I am back in God's armpit now and the local library is a joke. It's the teeniest building, and the first day I went in the librarian said something about the "rush". There were five patrons.
I'm sure this woman likes how slow her job is, how she never has to actually do anything and I have a feeling that I disrupt the ease she has become accustomed to. The first time I went in I knew I would need a card, so I brought ID and a piece of mail to verify my address. Perfectly valid piece of mail from the bank, but it wasn't good enough for lazy bitch lady. I had to go to the Post Office and have them type up a piece of paper verifying that I received mail at my address. She also wouldn't use my married name because the Post Office typed up my maiden name. Ok then, whatever. I pick out the two books they would allow me for my first visit and got the hell out of there.

I went back the other day to return them, and pick out the total of four books a person is allowed to check out at once. Now, what the hell is up with that? I can understand the limit the first time you get your card, but only four books? What if you are getting books for your child? Four will never be enough. When I was checking out I put Jack's carseat on the counter, only to have her spaz out and tell me it would scratch the counter and not to do that. Again, I got the hell out of there as fast as I could, seriously wondering how this woman got the job with her people skills. I guess she was the only remotely qualified person.

I went back today to swap out my books. When I came in the door she says to me, somewhat curt, "Can I help you?". I was a little taken aback, so I put my books down and told her I wanted to return them. "And check more out?" She sounded so incredulous I just sort of nodded yes and wandered over to the stacks. As I looked around something occurred to me. I've never seen another person looking for books in this library. Not once. There are usually a couple other patrons, but they are always using the computers. No wonder she acts so weird around me! She's forgotten what a reader looks like!

Joe was with me, and he put Jack's carseat on one of the tables, only to have her say "That's okay as long as it doesn't scratch it". He moved it to the floor and took Jack out. When she was gone I looked at him and mouthed "see what I mean!". He rolled his eyes in agreement and went to look at the math books. He's a geek like that. I found my books, and we left, but I am already dreading when I have to go back. This woman has some problem with me, or maybe it's just with readers in general, but she's a librarian for God's sake! She's supposed to love people who read real books, and don't just think that the library is for free internet access. Then again, I make her have to do actual librarian type work, so that may well be the source of the hostility. Either way I can't wait to get the hell out of this town so I can go back to the non-Twilight Zone library branch. I am going to step up the house hunt.

National Treasure my ass

I have serious problems with Nicholas Cage. There's something about him that just ruins the movies that he is in. The Rock? Would have been wonderful if not for him. And Con Air is a damn good movie, but I HATE his character and that stupid southern accent he does. What the hell part of the south does he think he's from? Geez. I told Joe, it's as if he has signature moves and characteristics, but the problem is that he's not making a series of movies about the same person, he's different people but doesn't seem to realize it. I don't want to watch the same person in every movie, especially not the person that Nic Cage seems to be. Also? What the hell was up with Lisa Marie marrying him? He's a known Elvis collector. Didn't she figure she was just getting, you know, collected? I would have hoped she would have been smarter than that.

I have an unnatural obsession with celebrities.

I'm not copying FluidPudding, I swear

I love bacon. My parents have teased me for years with the Beggin' Strips commercial. You know, "I smell BACON! Bacon, Bacon, BACON!" It's the one thing that would keep me -has kept me- from being a vegetarian. It's also the one food that most people I know say prevent them from being vegetarian. There's something crack-like about it, you know? Joe's quite fond of Bacon too, so we started a tradition that once a week we have bacon and eggs and maybe muffins and toast. An actual breakfast that is cooked and eaten together. It used to be Sundays, but now that Joe's on a four days on, four days off schedule it just rotates to whatever day we feel like it when he's off. I say all this because I just ate a half pound of bacon and I'm in heaven.

I didn't tell you, because I was embarrassed, especially with how much I railed against it, but I weighed myself a couple weeks ago. It was less than I thought, so that was good and it didn't trigger my eating disorder so that was better. I have to admit this to you, unfortunately not in a sense of truthfulness, but because I have to brag. I've lost 15 pounds! I've been being responsible, and eating and all that stupid boring slow crap, and I've lost 15 pounds. Woo-Fucking-Hoo! I'm doing a mini happy dance. Though if I keep eating a half pound of bacon at a time that wont last, but dammit, I deserve my party for the moment.

Today is Joe's birthday and we are going out to eat later with his parents. That will be fun.

He's Catholic, I get it

"Million Dollar Baby" is boring me. Perhaps because I already know the ending. Damn you, Bill Maher.
I am going to eat some String Cheese now.

Edit: Now "Million Dollar Baby" is pissing me off, not because of the ending, but because of her family. God a'mighty.

Final Edit: I do like the movie. It just started slowly.

You'd think three days and I'd have a better story to tell

So I had this dream the other night, that I was getting Jack up for the day and greeted him by saying Hi. He looked at me and said Hi back, so I was thrilled and decided to see what else he could say. Mama, Dada, he was saying everything. When I asked if he could say bottle he shook his head no at me, so I asked if he could say bobble instead (that's what I usually call it) and he had no problem with it. I asked him what he wanted for breakfast and he replied "cereal" so he wasn't just talking, he was conversing. I remember telling him "but you hate the cereal". The whole thing was bizarre, and I'm still trying to figure out if I am relieved it was a dream or sad. A bit of both I think.

Made the Wal-Mart trip today, and I have once again learned a valuable lesson. Seems when you don't go to the store for a week the next week's shopping is that much worse. It was a crappy, crappy day. But I get to watch "Million Dollar Baby" and "The Ring Two" tonight, and we watched Kinsey last night. Now personally I didn't think it was a titillating movie, but it got Joe all worked up. Then again you can look at most men sideways and they get worked up. Joe is no different, and I'd be really inclined to say he's worse than most. So now you have to tell me horror stories to prove that no, your man is the worst. It could be a really fun game I think.

Sorry I was gone for a couple days, I never even went online at all, so I am really dreading checking my feeds and my email. If I let it go a couple of days it becomes a nightmare, which ends up being more of a reason to put off looking- in a twisted kind of logic. But I am back now, and thinking a couple of posts up so I may even manage to be funny again. I know it's been a while, but I think I can pull it off. Just call me the Raging Mommy That Could.
So yeah, I'm still here. Are you still there internet?

It's my new favorite word

You know what? I'm smart. Seriously, they should have people study me. So I put off going to the store this week, because I didn't feel like having to deal with the drive and the people, and wrestling the baby and and and. I couldn't even bring myself to make up a list. So no store. (We went grocery shopping, I am just talking about the trek to Wal-Mart) And turns out, there's money in the bank still! I had no idea it worked that way. It's amazing. It's also not as if I can spend it, after all we need rent money even if the search for a house is going to hell.

And oh, what a hell it is. Not only is it budgeting, finding a good neighborhood, debating house vs. apartment, deciding do I really want to sign a lease and commit myself to another year in Rolla, it is that I have to decide these things primarily on my own, with Joe working nights and sleeping during the day. Rolla is also bass-akwards enough that only one rental agency has listings you can look at online. So I have to drive half an hour down the road with a baby, then drive around and look at places, blah blah blah. I fucking hate it. I'll stop whining now, really, I just need to vent it.

So I have some money, but I don't have money. I have a home, but I don't have a home. I have a life, but I so do not have a life. My life is very ambivalent.

I'm getting drugs!

Guess what internet? I got off my fat ass and made my therapy appointment. You'd better appreciate this, because I hate hate hate going to that clinic. Though it should make for a good post.

Also? I discovered something interesting. You know how certain girly products come with a little tube of itch cream? Well, I don't use that, so I had it sitting around. Turns out it works pretty well on bugbites. So now you know. You can thank me for being the guinea pig at your leisure.

Cereal, dialup, free time and weather. My post in a nutshell.

So yesterday Jack got "solid" food for the first time, though describing rice cereal as solid is a bit of a misnomer. It was a riot. I've never seen a baby get new food for the first time, so I had no idea how much fun it would be. He hated it, and made some really great faces trying to avoid the spoon. I'm such a bad mom for laughing. We got some photos, so I'll put those up as soon I as I have the time to fight with Flickr. I know that the Cable modem/Digital cable/Digital phone system we had in Omaha was a wasted expense, but GOD I miss it. I fucking hate dialup.

Joe's sister gave us a 2 in 1 baby sit and step thingy, which really Jack shouldn't be using until he's six months, but since he can sit in it and play and he likes it I'm thinking why the hell not. This is a miracle. He plays for almost an hour before he gets bored and I can actually get things done. I've started laundry today, done dishes and am now writing a terrible post. Woo hoo! Now if I could just get my thank you cards written. It's only been four months, that's not late, right? Considering I haven't even mailed off the birth announcements yet, that is.

The temperature finally broke with the storm systems, and in the middle of the night we had to go to the basement because of the tornado sirens. I am pretty sure some moron accidentally leaned on the button, because there weren't any. It's in the 70's today though, and it's the first day in over a week I haven't been cursing the electric bill for not being able to turn on the A/C. The problem is, it's going to start getting cold. Sure, I hate heat and humidity, but I actually prefer summer. Well, Spring and fall technically. I like it to be in the 70's or low 80's. Once it gets cold I am going to get pissed. Then it will snow and I'll really start the cursing. I mean, I lived in Georgia for ten years. That's what winter should be dammit, never below 20, maybe it snows an inch one time throughout the season. I should just be enjoying the fall weather, but I can't get the nagging fact that winter is coming out of the back of my head. Dammit.

This is not the Mommy you are looking for

I've been fed up lately. With being married, being a mom, everything. I don't know how it is that I can love my child and husband so fiercely, yet not want either of them a lot of the time. I don't want to go back to staying out all night drinking, and having to deal with dating and all that insanity. At the same time though I feel as if whatever it is that makes me me, and an individual, has disappeared. There's also no small amount of frustration with Joe and the fact the I am the default parent. It's hard enough when he works nights and sleeps during the day so that I have no break from Jack four days a week, but on his days off it also falls to me to take care of everything. When you can't remember the last time you were truly alone, then something has got to change. So yesterday I played hookey.

Joe was going to the store, and I wanted him to take Jack along. After all, I always take Jack with me when I go so it seemed fair. Now sure, Joe was correct in pointing out that he's asleep most of the time if I take Jack to the store, but it didn't lessen me wanting a break. Or how pissed off I got. I am pretty sure the words "selfish prick" were muttered. So I sat and stewed and thought about how shackled I felt. Then I decided to run away.Not really run away, though it's often been something I've dreamed of in my old life. I just don't feel that unhappy and unfulfilled now, so I am aware at least that things are better these days. But that doesn't mean that I don't get tired and I don't need to hear myself think and only have to pay attention to myself at times.

Once Joe got back with the car I left. I was a couple miles down the road when I realized there was no baby in the car, so I could blast the stereo. I was a couple more miles when I realized I could smoke. (Yes, I smoke at times. Yes, I quit for the pregnancy. Yes, it's stupid of me. ) I ended up driving to a town half an hour down the highway, and then driving around my old haunts there and reminiscing and remembering why my life is better now. I also stopped by my old work where my former boss practically begged me to let her babysit sometime. As I trust her, and desperately wanted to be able to go out sometime, I was thrilled. I know I will be taking her up on it soon. So actually my little act of rebellion paid off in more ways than one.

When I got home Joe tells me "You can go out you know. I don't mind". Alrighty then. So I took a nap. Since he didn't mind watching Jack and all.

Now to de-vilify Joe. He takes turns with the night time care, and he does play with and feed Jack on his days off. I'm sure most of you have noticed it as well, but the dads spend less time caring for the babies than the moms do, whether due to work or whatever. So they aren't as used to one another, and Joe doesn't know the best ways to calm Jack or what each kind of cry means. He's learning, and he really does a good job, but if you have kids you know how it is. Either he gets frustrated or you do so you end up taking over and feeding the baby yourself. So he's not a horrible father, and I don't hate him, but I am sure you all know that sense of being overwhelmed. At any rate, the break was good for me. Play hookey internet, it's worth it.

Shut up Natalie.

I feel oddly torn.
I want to post, but at the same time I don't. I love you all and don't want you to think I've abandoned you, but I can't think of one damn thing to say. I am positive it's a side effect of the depression. It sucks monkey cock. (Hey trolls, that was MONKEY cock, not MOMMY cock)

I get to see my oldest tomorrow, and I am looking forward to that, so there's something at least.

Bitch and Moan

I hate poop.
I know, everyone talks about poop, and how annoying it is, and all the difficulties they have with constipated children and kids who eat their poop. I know I am lucky that I don't have those issues since we cleared up Jack's constipation issues, but god I hate poop. Jack is on soy formula due to milk allergies. I was born with them but luckily outgrew them, and Joe is lactose intolerant. When you add in that my oldest also had pretty bad reactions odds are very good that Jack would have them too, but we didn't know for sure. Until now. I ran out of my normal formula yesterday, and out of curiosity I bought Lactose free. Wow that was a mistake. I ended up going back to the store last night and buying the Soy we normally get, and throwing out the rest of the pitcher I'd made of the Lactose Free. Add in the screaming and not sleeping and incredibly rank poop this morning and I won't be doing that again. Soy poop smells bad enough, but this was awful. It reminded me of Pigpen, with the cloud of odor that surrounds him. Sure like most people I have that twisted fascination with my own poop, but this is Jack's poop, and not mine, and no person should ever have to be so exposed to the excrement of another. There's something fundamentally wrong about it. Even the ancients knew that it was just wrong. Waste has always been something that was done in private, so it's not just me and my wussy modern self. I just thank God I don't have to use cloth diapers.

My oldest and his family are coming to visit tomorrow, and meet Jack. I was looking at some of his old baby pictures, and it's uncanny. They are practically twins, just born eight years apart. Then again my baby pictures are almost identical as well. This makes the fifth generation that we have photographic evidence of that look alike. Those are some strong damn genes I tell you. Mine are the first documented boys though, which is what I hang my hopes on of them not also having the strong genetic depression. I bring this up because I am in a foul mood, again. I need to make an appointment at my old clinic, something I mentioned over a month ago but still haven't got around to doing. It's kind of a catch 22, to be able to get my medicine that helps me function around others and leave the house I have to function around others and leave the house. Why can't I just get drunk and live in a fog? Oh yeah, I have a child now. Damn responsibility.

Has everyone seen the Red Stripe beer commercials by the way? I love them. And the white guy who dances in the one is just like my little brother. It makes me laugh.

Katrina post sript

Another note for those wanting to help out the victims of Katrina/President Bush. (I made a funny!)
Ask your local churches if they are affiliated with a church providing shelter, or if they themselves are and what items are needed. Even though we are 1000 miles away and not a major city, the Presbyterian Church in Rolla has 50 refugees and had requested items like pillows and pillow cases. I think things like deodorant, diapers, toilet paper and soap would probably be godsends, to pun a bit.
Done preaching.

itchy itchy yah yah da da

Mosquitoes like me. I don't really know why this is, but I've always been that person who can walk outside for two minutes and come back in with five new bites. Like I just did. Camping last weekend practically killed me, and now that those are healed I have a whole new set to scratch open and get scars from. (I'm also the person that can't not scratch a bug bite.)

The first weekend as an official step-mom went okay, though to summarize the lost post, I am the person who follows the five second rule, not the person that remembers to have kids wash their hands after they pee. I don't know how ready I am to grow up, either. With Jack I can grow into it with him, with Caleb I have to be a mom now and I just don't know how well that is going to work for a while. He took one bath in the last four days, and we forgot his medicine more than twice. He brushed his teeth every night before bed though, so that's something, right?

And finally a laugh.
Joe came in to the room this afternoon (I took a nap), and started bitching about Rumsfeld and the comments he was making that the US was not slow in responding to the Katrina damage. Joe was pretty mad but at the end he looked up and said "there is some good news though". I know him a little too well, so I replied with the punchline "You just saved a bunch of money by switching our car insurance to Geico?".
And he had.

Just call me mommy

I just wrote a big depressing post about my identity crisis and feelings of inadequacy as a mom, and blogger ate it.
Dammit.
I might try to re-write it later.

Boring little update

We have Caleb for the holiday weekend, and luckily everything is going well. Planning things out with his mom and talking to her even went well, so all and all it's been a really great weekend. I'm a bit tired, but one advantage is that he's only four and still takes naps, so we get to take them too. It's nice :)

Jack got over his tummy virus or whatever it was making him puke every ten minutes, so that is good. He never had a fever, I was just more worried about him becoming dehydrated if he couldn't keep anything down. Everything is all better now at least.

Gas here is $3.09, we usually have some of the lowest in the country, so I feel terrible for everyone. Joe works half an hour from here, so that's going to hurt, and the two three-hour round trips to get and return Caleb are going to be even more painful. Bend over and spread 'em, we are all going to be squealing like pigs. I just have to keep reminding myself that we have water, and food, and a roof. We don't have A/C. $200 electric bills will teach you to put up with heat fast.

So anyway, that's my boring little update. Hope everyone is having a good weekend.

Oh, baby

Dear Jack,
9:30 PM is not your happy-fun-play-time. Really, it's not. This is mommy's alone on the computer for several hours and forgetting she has a baby for a few moments time. So go back to sleep.

I'm serious young man. Stop smiling at me like that. It's not going to work. I don't care how cute you are. Stop trying to type on mommy's hands. I know they look funny moving like that, but you do not get to play too. Leave the touchpad mouse alone Jackson Kenneth!

Yes, I hear you talking. I know you are having some adamant conversation with me that you love, but mommy does not want to talk. Mommy wants you to go back to bed so she can waste even more of her precious sleep time on the in...

Oh, Jack. Why did you just puke on mommy again?
I love you,
Your Raging Mommy

Welcome, little one

Congrats to RaeJane and her beautiful new daughter Camille!

Katrina food relief

Poppy Mom put this up the other day, and when I went to check them out today I was impressed.
America's Second Harvest is a charity that helps to organize food all over the country that would otherwise be thrown away, and makes sure it is distributed to food banks. With their normal donations 98% of their income goes to programs, with only 1% each for administration and advertising. With their Katrina donations however 100% will go to disaster relief efforts. Specifically, getting the over 10 food banks destroyed into new locations and their services back up and running. Food and clean water are the biggest needs at this time, and every dollar can feed four people.

Kick Ass!

Mudpuppy had a contest to give away some free prize to a random reader, and I won! Not only that, I won a book I actually wanted to read, The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill, so I'm really happy.
Now if Jack would just stop puking.