Joe is halfway here. I wish he could get here before my parents get back from church. I've missed him so.
I've got my Joe back, and all my furniture safe and sound. Life is good :)
Please go to http://jacksragingmommy.com
Joe is halfway here. I wish he could get here before my parents get back from church. I've missed him so.
Dear Mr. Comment Spammer,
I am a huge control freak. I admit it. It's a weakness but it's one that I cannot help. I'm the person who hits the imaginary brakes when others are driving. You should see me now that there's a baby in the vehicle. Joe has the patience of a saint I tell you. And the cock of a god, but that's neither here nor there, I just like to brag.
EDIT: I swear I will be funny and non-preachy again soon. Promise. Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my ear.
Internet, I am depressed. I've been having a really difficult time posting, because I want to be entertaining and fun and it's just not there. My funniest things lately have been self deprecating takes on how I actually feel. The whole fat ass thing? I really hate myself right now. You know how I keep saying I am tired? I am, but mostly it's the depression. Not quite as far as having a "plan" but not so great. Joe being in Omaha really doesn't help either. That feeling of being alone in the world with no one who cares is only intensified. I have agorophobia to a degree, and right now I have zero motivation or desire to leave the house and go anywhere. I haven't been talking to anyone other than Joe, who calls once a day. Your comments are a bit of a life saver right now. It shows that someone is interested, and notices my existence.
I feel like I have a whole lot of funny to live up to, and I am almost too tired to try, but Oh God! Did anyone else see Target's back to school commercial? It has a back to school jingle set to Sir Mix-A-Lot's Baby Got Back. I shit you not. Are we honestly so old now that they don't expect anyone to get it? Or is it actually supposed to appeal to those of us who were kids when it came out and make us want to buy their product? All it made me want to do was see if I still knew all the lyrics. I am pleased/appalled to say that I do. And it made me feel good about my butt, so hey, good things all around. Now I need to re-watch Pulp Fiction so I can listen to why pot bellies are desirable.
I want to start a Fat Ass club. Who's with me? We can make a specific day every week that we eat ice cream, or cake, or OH! Ice cream cake! And we can bitch about Lindsay Lohan checking herself into a fat spa with Kate Moss. And threaten to break them over our knees. Then we can talk about how women that have only gained 8.5 pounds by the third trimester are going to have stunted babies and should be tied down and force fed. We'll feed them fattening food, but stuff that tastes bad as punishment. We can dance around and shout Towanda while we drive our vehicles into those of skinny moms. It'll be great.
I was just over at Sarcastic Journalist getting caught up on missed posts, and read about the Alpha Mom and non-existant baby weight gain. I replied:
I bought more fat pants today, then I had an ice creme cone and 3/4 of a footlong sub from subway- with bacon and cheese and mayo. Do I have a fat ass? You bet I do! But my food was good and I am much happier in that respect than some really hungry twig. I hate the twigs. I want them all to blow away in a stiff breeze.
Jack is only twelve weeks old. I am allowed to sill have my belly and fat ass. So there all you stupid skinny ladies in the waiting room. “My baby is three days younger than yours and look how thin I am". Eat me, skinny bitch. You own pants that don’t give you muffin top? Well hoo-ray for you. When your bones break from lack of nourishment don’t come crying to me. Nor will I sheild you in case of disaster. Get your own fat ass.
I have an eating disorder. I began making myself vomit and taking laxatives when I was eleven. Eleven. Our society is fucked up. I know not every young girl sees advertising and actresses and thinks they have to be like that at any cost, but enough do. Even though I am pretty much in recovery I still have a very hard time. I don't weigh myself, and for my whole pregnancy to ensure I didn't fall into old habits I had to face away from the scale and not be told what I weighed. Every time I see a new doctor or nurse I have to open with "I have an eating disorder and can't know how much I weigh". This is usually in a hallway with others around and is quite humiliating. Especially since I am overweight right now, and I just look even more stupid saying it. I had a nurse once get irritated and roll her eyes at me that I didn't know how much I weighed, though to be honest most people are more considerate than that.
I went clothes shopping today since I can't fit my fat ass into anything. More accurately my fat belly, cause I can get stuff on, just not fastened. My boobs and belly are so much bigger I can't wear most of my normal summer clothing, because to be blunt, there's not much there. However, I am SO not one of those women who can wear a camisole top with a pot belly hanging out. That is trashy. No shirts, no shorts, on to the thrift store. I got two pairs of shorts and two shirts. Clothes shopping is an ordeal. I usually end up in tears. As it is I am still torn up about it and ranting here and in SJ's comments. I know, I could work out! I could eat right! I could be all responsible and healthy cause that's worked so well for me in the past. Well, I am not walking in this heat, and I don't have money for the gym membership right now. As for food, well, I'm doing well not to binge and empty the fridge.
No, I am not going to slip, and yes, I am behaving myself. I just needed to vent. It's really very hard for me despite how well I am doing.
So my mom has 3/4 of the channels blocked on the satellite, so I have to enter a password every time I want to see something, and I can't enter one channel and continue to search the guide either. Stupid parental controls. God forbid my 22 year old brother be able to turn on FX. (To be fair he is developmentally challenged, but he's still about 15 mentally. She really does need to lighten up)
Seven hour trip took ten.
So my folks arrived with my brother in tow, and I have survived the first night. I will say it's yet another reason to be glad for wireless internet, they are all sprawled out in the sunroom and livingroom but I am still able to feed my habit. Which is good, since I am still going to be awake for a bit. The one time I have a reason to turn off the T.V., and that Jack is sound asleep when I normally want to go to bed, and I'm not tired. God has a twisted sense of humor I tell you.
I've been uploading posts from my old site that I made after Jack was first born . Lots of delerium, and some good pics as well.
I like watching the Ellen DeGeneres show during the day, it's a nice break and I generally like who she has on. Well, other than her musical guests. We have different taste in music. However, she's been on hiatus for a few weeks now, and I am bored with the re-runs. Unfortunately TNT who has on Law & Order is showing golf all day. All damn day. Bastards. So I've got Ellen on the TV for now.
People can and will be dismissive of J.K. Rowling's writing abilities all they like, but there is something to be said for the power of a story.
My Site Meter just told me that someone came to my site by doing a Yahoo video search for "Mommy Wants Cock".
Does anyone else find themselves when describing the baby's activities referring to the baby as "we"?
I am mildly obsessive compulsive. Generally it means that when I clean things I clean them really thoroughly, but for the most part it's under control. I also make stacks of things like books, papers, CD's, etc. I don't need to count things, or wash my hands, or pick up every piece of lint I see. In fact, I hate going into that mode so much that I will procrastinate cleaning to avoid triggering it. So my house isn't dirty, but it's messy. Now we have a baby and I've discovered that weird time sucking quality that babies come with. (The fact that I am constantly reading and blogging and watching TV has nothing to do with how fast my day goes by.) In all actuality though, once Jack falls asleep I need to relax and mostly can't bring myself to get up and do work. I am a lazy bitch.
My headache went away, and I survived Wal-Mart. Then we got home, and relaxed for a couple hours. We were going to watch a movie on the On Demand, the day was turning out to not be too bad. Then the power went out.
My head is killing me, killing me I tell you! It's got it's tendrils wrapped around and it's squeezing.
This is why I am glad I do not have a teenage internet stalker.
So we are moving in a couple of weeks, and my parents are coming next weekend to visit and help us get everything boxed up. My mom and dad are then going to take Jack back with them. I could either go too and leave Joe alone for a week, or I could stay and sleep and have sex.
I got a little tipsy last night, and left a trail of crass comments all over the internet. Not that I was rude, but I certainly wasn't inhibited. My sense of humor is off at best, and add in the alcohol and I was... my own special brand of funny.
How is it that I've never seen Alice's Restaurant before? The song was a major part of my consciousness back in high school. My friend Groovy used to call Jason "Arlo" since they had the same hair.
I feel the need to clarify that I do not hate Christians and Republicans. Militant people bother me, but it doesn't matter what side of the fence you are on. A militant liberal will piss me off just as quickly.
A very rare event is occurring as we speak. Jack is sitting on the floor in his carseat (for some reason he's happy there) and I am rocking it with my foot. Not only is he not yelling because he can see me and I am not picking him up, but he's happy and giggling and talking*. It's not that he has to be held at all times, but his being pleased with being alone times are rare and short. He'll play under his Boppy, but I usually have to sit within the line of sight. He'll swing for a while if it's facing me. Right now though he's made it about half an hour so far, and even let me go do dishes without panicking that I was not there.
Not a huge post, I just felt the need to brag that I got a nap.
I know I shouldn't care what others think of me, especially random people on the internet who I don't read and who don't normally read me. But I began to wonder how many people read my last post and immediately assumed that Joe and I are ignorant trash.
I want to bitch about something, but in order to do so I should give you a bit of Joe's back story, and if I am going to do that then I may as well give you mine too. This could take a while, but if it gets too long I'll break it up. Also, I don't lie about where I've been. Some of this may seem shocking from someone who you think of primarily as a mommy.
I am having the worst afternoon and evening. Really I suppose I should say Jack is having the worst one, seeing as how he's the one who is being bothered by something. He's fed, he's pooped, he's comfy, he wont stop crying. Even when I am walking around which holds him off even when he's hungry. Not today though, oh hell no. Nothing works today, and to top it off he's not slept more than an hour at a time, and he's only done that twice since 2pm. (I mark things from when Joe leaves for work)
I am still very angry with Joe's parents about the fact that they would not hold Jack. I'm also mad at Joe right now too, but for far different reasons.
There's a blogroll over there ----->
Blogger's spellcheck tells me that "akward" is spelled "awkward". The internet seems to be telling me that both are correct. My brain tells me that "akward" is correct, since "awkward" looks... akward.
Joe and I are taking Jack back to Missouri to see our families for the weekend, a seven hour trip I am so looking forward to with a 9 week old. My parents live about an hour south of St. Louis, but after we get there we get to rest briefly and drive about an hour northeast to pick up Joe's other son. (Someday I will tell you all about our family situations. It's hilarious)