May 27, 2012 by Samantha

Outlet

This blog use to be my outlet. My voice to the outside world. I had moments where I felt closed off and needed to be heard by anyone someone.

I woke up this morning and realized I don’t have much need for an outlet these days. My life has become too busy. I barely have time to think. Which may or may not be a good thing. I feel less creative but also less full of angst.

I had serious insecurities when it came to my relationship with my husband. I would use this blog to poke fun at myself. Air out some of my dirty laundry. The other day some chick sent my husband some inappropriate message on Facebook. Normally this would send me in a tizzy. But this time I found it amusing. Hell I find him attractive, why wouldn’t other women?

And then it dawned on me for the first time in my life I feel safe and loved. Not at all complacent.

Now motherhood is still daunting and I’m almost 99% sure will never get easier. I realize now that I won’t always get it right. Sometimes seriously wrong. But that is the way life goes. I could use some advice on how you keep the insanity at bay. I don’t drink or use drugs so I’m thinking I need maybe yoga or a knitting class. Earplugs. Something.

Pregnancy is kicking my butt. The injections suck. I’m exhausted. But heck I don’t even want to hear myself complain. I will not inflict such tortures on you.

So if you noticed my sudden lack of blogging, I’m still here. Just busy in the really real world. Maybe I’ll learn to cook so we can have something to chat about. For right now I’m happy and happy Sam isn’t much for writing. But she sure does love pictures………

May 17, 2012 by Samantha

Never pick your nose when you have green marker on your fingers

I never really thought about what I wanted to be when I grew up. Before I knew it I was magically a grown up. I never imagined a life quite like mine. I’m not sure what I thought though. That the only thing to life was a 12 pack and the next party maybe. I never had dreams of traveling the world or writing a novel. My ambitions were very low. And through carelessness I suddenly found myself as a mother and some what a wife. I failed miserably at the wife thing the first time around. In hindsight thank goodness.

Being a mother has been exhausting. I’d like to say rewarding but motherhood is mostly measured by how they turn out. You don’t get a pat on the back till much later in life. We have our small rewards. That first word, step, honor roll, flushing the toilet, etc. I have a 6 year old and we are still working on the whole flushing the toilet concept.

Being a mother is a juggling act. You get to wear many hats. And I will confess I have my moments where I want to drop a few balls or stop wearing a couple hats.

Sometimes I want to cry.
Sometimes I want to scream.
Sometimes I want to leave.
Sometimes I just want to say I give, you win, I’m done.

Being mom is the equivalent to some sort of super hero. I have to have nerves of steel. I must be unbreakable.

Mothers don’t get to be sick.
They should know where everything is.
A mother should know how to do a French braid while solving mathematic equations.
She should be able to flip a pancake and iron a shirt.
She should have all the answers.
She is maid, nurse, cook, therapist, accountant, guidance counselor, trapeze, etc…..

And if you fail at any of those you lose your mom badge.

I take this whole mother and wife thing very seriously. I use humor to thinly veil my fears and failures.

Because I fail a lot. I couldn’t draw Earth on a sponge ball tonight. Marker mess every where. Including my nose hence the title.

I’m not super woman or even a super mother.

But I try.

That has to count right?

I fell into this gig. The pay sucks. The training is shoddy. And I get pooped on a lot. The people I manage are more like zoo animals than people. And I get pooped on A LOT!

But I wouldn’t have it any other way. Maybe someday I will travel the world or write a novel. First I’m going to try to master this whole mommy thing. It might take me awhile. I’m a work in progress.

May 17, 2012 by Samantha

Summer summer time

School lets out in exactly 14 days. And you know what that means 2 months of blogs solely about my heathens. I will whine, cry, threaten, and possibly appear to be going through some sort of nervous breakdown. I will try to sell, trade, or even lose one or two of them.

Okay I’m half kidding. I hate the summertime. My children refuse to entertain themselves. And the only activity they seem to care to do is piss me off.

This year my solution is………day camp. Monday thru Friday 10.5 hours of wonderful quiet. Okay I’ll still have the twins but it’s all good. They have not reached the mommy she looked at me funny stage, mommy she’s touching me, mommy she’s in my room again, mommy she said I smell. You get the idea.

What else is going on with the Osborn clan………

Penelope can crawl, pull herself up, and sit all by herself! She’s quite the big girl.

Liberty said MAMA!!!! Or something damn close.

Ramsey become a purple belt and slightly less annoying.

August is the top of her class. And also needs some serious anxiety meds. That girl takes life way too seriously.

Morgan has not burned anything down or beat anyone up. And it looks like she’s going to the second grade. I kid, Morgan can write sentences, maybe needs a little work on her spelling. Wrap is not spelled r.a.p.e. Overall she is doing awesome.

Matt is starting a Hall and Oates cover band but without the Hall cause he doesn’t have a mustache.

And that leaves me. If you haven’t heard I’m pregnant again. I’m always pregnant. So far it has been a rocky one. Last night I started daily injections of Lovenox, a blood thinner. Matt gets to jab me in the tummy every night for the next 6 months. Hot right, this is going to do wonders for our sex life. Lame.

Now I hate needles but I hate possibly going through another miscarriage more. So Sam is going to suck it up. Big girls don’t cry right?

This blog needs some pictures!!!!!!

May 13, 2012 by Samantha

Mama mama mama

For me Mother’s Day often plays out like one of my birthdays disastrous. I won’t lie I was not holding my breathe for awesome town today. Heck I started my day at 4am, wrestling with cranky babies and ornery puppies. Ankle deep in shit and covered in spit up.

I attempted to be as loud as possible. Like I was cranked up to an eleven this morning in a feeble attempt to wake the rest of the house. If you do not get that reference I apologize I am old.

Pleasantries from August this morning, “my flowers dripped paint you know my project you picked up off my floor.”

Which I replied, “you mean the giant piece of paper I picked up so the dogs wouldn’t destroy it.”

Woo hoo Happy Mother’s Day to me. The jerk face did make me a card. I’ll give her that.

I’m pretty sure I got an eh from Ramsey.

Now my Morgan at least she still loves me. She made me a coupon book. Even said I could use them more than once. I got me a foot “musog” today. Tomorrow I’m going to use my free breakfast with milk coupon. Though I know her love is close to waning. I think it’s around 8 or 9 when little girls stop loving their mothers. Then of course it kicks back in when they reach their mid twenties or start birthing their own babies.

I will say my husband was on his best behavior today. He took all the kids to the park. For like hours. I imagine he had them all tied to trees, heaven forbid they should have to be outside. My kids are like vampires. I swear they are allergic to the sun.

He fed them dinner and even took them grocery shopping. Which is huge because they are a nightmare at the grocery store. And then he came home and made me dinner.

Bahaha the dinner was almost edible. I won’t make fun he tried. It was my only request for the day. And he attempted to grant it. Now he won’t be winning any awards for his pizza in a bowl. But I appreciated the effort.

Now if he can just make it home from the video store with a watchable movie. I can declare this a decent, heck maybe even good Mother’s Day.

For my mother this year I went a whole day without asking for anything. My gift to her, a week or two free from having to babysit!!!

Happy Mother’s Day

May 11, 2012 by Samantha

Who Dat

I need a vacation from my vacation. So we ended up in New Orleans when I failed to prove I was a US citizen. Pretty sure I’m an illegal, bahaha. No really I was born here. Please don’t deport me.

Saturday night we hopped in the car and headed to NOLA. We had a few mishaps. I broke a register at Walmart and dropped my purse in a toilet. All before we got out of Texas. We made it across the state line around 4 am. We decided to be gangster and nap at a rest stop. Though honestly I was pushing for the motel 6.

We had planned on making a day of our drive through Louisiana. We were gonna see the sights, hit up some antique malls. I don’t know find the worlds largest ball of yarn. Only to discover from Dallas to Baton Rouge it is nothing but trees and swamps.

I did manage to get us slightly off path. Okay I made us take route 2 on the google map. Never take route 2. Unless you enjoy going 45 mph for about 200 miles down the sketchy back roads of Louisiana. Obviously we made it there alive.

Our first night we ended up at a Super 8 in the industrial district. Now it was very clean and inexpensive. But it was next to a 10 story hotel that had been abandoned during Katrina. And the new inhabitants were hookers and hobos. I won’t mention the adult video store 15 feet away.

We wandered down to the French Quarter after arguing over parking for about 30 minutes. Parking is scarce and sketchy in NOLA. We ran into some fellow Texans who were shit faced at 4 in the afternoon. They seemed real excited to be there.

The French Quarter is like Spring Break everyday, all day, all night, all the time. Drunken debauchery and surprisingly very cheap. I’m talking buy 1 drink get 2 free. There is piss, shit, and vomit every where. There is also strippers, street performers, and some transvestites.

I’ll be honest our first night I was on sensory overload. We ate at a bar. I wasn’t use to indoor smoking. We walked for miles. I was pretty relieved to end the night watching the Avengers far from the city.

The next day we left the Super 8 to stay at The 1870 Banana Courtyard in the French Quarter. I’ve never stayed at a B&B. I was instantly in love with this place. And the owners Hugh and Mary Ramsey. It was once a bordello so we stayed in the Madame Steamboat room. Supposedly it is haunted, didn’t see any ghost. But we did meet some amazing people.

We spent most of our trip eating and looking for a “real voodoo” shop. We did do a ghost tour, which was cheesy. But our guide was awesome. Phantoms ghost tour, try to get Hope as your guide. She is dope. We took a ferry across the Mississippi, saw the St. Louis Cathedral, and basically explored every corner of the French Quarter. We also wandered around cemetery no. 1, where one Nic Cage has a tomb.

French Market and Flea Market total let down, Dallas has them beat on this one.

I learned I hate jambalaya, gumbo, and crawfish. The muffuletta could use a few less olives and never get a whole one. They are huge!

The beignets at Cafe du Monde are to die for. I would drive 8 hours just to eat 3 of these. And the chicory coffee it’s pretty yummy too.

I’m sure it sounds like I didn’t love New Orleans. How can anyone love this drunken dirty sinful city? Well I fell in love with New Orleans. There is something absolutely intoxicating about this city. And I was stone cold sober the whole time. I hate jazz but found myself enthralled by the street performers. The people love their city. They embrace being the drunken dirty armpit of the south. Because man it is pretty hot and smelly there.

If I didn’t have children, I would be living in a 1 bedroom apt drinking hurricanes on Bourbon St. okay maybe more like Decatur St. I’d learn how to play some jazz. I would stop pausing between words when I spoke. I would never leave the city.

So when I finally run away I imagine you will find me in New Orleans.

May 4, 2012 by Samantha

Calamity

When planning to travel abroad, applying for a passport a month out is a recipe for disaster. Well maybe not for you but defiantly for me. Because everything results in disaster for me.

I jumped through hoops only to epically fail. I never thought it would be so hard to prove I am an American citizen. Since currently I am without country does that mean I can claim any country. I’ve always wanted to be European.

So Mexico is a no go. I won’t tell you what canceling that trip cost me. Now we are going on vacation. It just looks like we will be stuck stateside. I’ll be damned if I’m going to waste babysitters and vacation time. I bought several very cute outfits and had my eyebrows waxed. I’m also still thin enough to wear a bikini. Vacation is happening.

Now I just have to figure out today what we will be using all these lovely travel vouchers on. Because no one refunds shit!!!! And by the way I had attempted to purchase travel insurance. For some reason the request didn’t process and I was too lazy to actually call Bookit. Lesson learned.

So we have been toying with the idea of New Orleans as our backup vacation plan. Granted I won’t be drinking bourbon or sucking the heads out of crawfish. I imagine there is tons of other things to do in NOLA. Visiting some haunted houses, creepy cemeteries, and staying at a B&B could be a fun alternative to being half naked on a beach in the warm Mexico sun right?

I keep telling myself Mexico would have been a disaster anyway. I couldn’t drink Tequila all week long so with my luck I would have gotten some sort of horrible stomach ailment. Spent the whole time in the bathroom praying for death. These thoughts make me feel better and less angry at myself and the United States government.

Speaking of being yacking. I’m also currently unable to consume anything with out feeling like I’m going to hurl. That even includes water. So far pregnancy number what 12, bahaha has been one hell of a roller coaster. I haven’t really gone into what occurred in the early weeks of this pregnancy. You wouldn’t believe me. But it did result in me finding a new OBGYN finally. And let me tell you she is awesome.

And since I jumped to the topic of babies. I did something crazy this week. Or something very sane. I gave up all my cloth diaper groups. I went cold turkey. You might think that is silly. Who gets addicted to buying cloth diapers. Well find yourself a “goodllama mama” and she will tell you about the dangers of cloth diapering. I’m heartbroken, no more hunting for the perfect fabric or chasing down a unicorn. Yes I said unicorn and I’m not talking about the mythical creature with the horn. Sad sad Sam, no Mexico , no Goodmamas, and pukey to boot.

Ooh but here is some exciting news, pretty sure Penelope said dada. She has learned to speed crawl and pull herself up. She is also either teething or her true demon form has emerged. Liberty well she still has the nickname Lumpy for various reasons. Lumpy also has some anger issues with her toys and enjoys pulling hair. She is a big fan of Barney and enjoys applesauce.

Enough chit chat. I better get off my ass and start planning an impromptu trip to New Orleans!

May 2, 2012 by Samantha

Good 90′s music that encompasses my current state of mind

Do you ever want to occasionally break out into song? I mean full-blown in the middle of a conversation break out into song. I do. Today while having the billionth conversation with August over her attitude this song popped into my head. Normally this blog is “bad 90′s” but I will fight you to the death if you say this song sucks.

May 2, 2012 by Samantha

Good Lord

My days usually consist of poop, snot, and crying. And believe me it is not always the twins. Somedays we have a crisis, you know the usual. The dog eats a needle. Penelope tries to suffocate her sister. Morgan was in August’s room again. Ramsey attempts riding her bike at maximum velocity barefoot.

Most days the girls come home and give me the shake down. Money for karate, choir, field trips, field days, other various activities involving fields, Six Flags, shirts, sweatshirts, pizza, books, paper, smencils(smelly pencils). They are all the rage these days. I say things like, “money doesn’t grow on trees.”

I rarely shower before 3pm and I never get to go to the bathroom with the door closed. I attempt various chores laundry, dishes, sweeping, and other unfun activities. That I never finish.

I attempt a blog. Usually several times.

I say f&$k a lot and the occasional gosh darn it.

I threaten, yell, plead, bargain, barter, and bribe.

I forget things.

I lose my phone, the remote, and always the diaper wipes.

I make a dinner no one eats.

I clean up more poop and snot. Do more pleading usually with irate babies concerning bed time.

I usually butcher the only verse to Hush Little Baby I know repeatedly.

I do more threatening and yelling. Usually over lost school clothes, backpacks, shoes, and bed time.

30 minutes is spent arguing with Morgan on why she can not sleep with me and no Jeff the Killer is not real. Thanks Ramsey.

He comes home. Food is rarely waiting. Taco Bell is usually consumed. FU I love Taco Bell. Keep your thoughts to yourself.

I spend a good hour or two discussing with my husband what movie we should rent on Redbox or watch on Netflix. Rarely resulting in anything I suggest.

I realize I look like a disaster.

We discuss sex which doesn’t always result in the actual doing of the sex. For various reasons, too tired, just took a shower. I say smart things like “we still do the sex I thought we were married.” He makes jokes about me having a boyfriend. Yes men are pounding down the door to get at me covered in snot, unshaven, and wearing sweatpants.

We also discuss various things I did not do. Such as tonight it will be the table I didn’t clear or the owls that are still on the wall. The dinner I didn’t make.

I’ll attempt sleep. Usually within 5 minutes of hitting the pillow a baby is crying. I instantly regret staying up till 2am. I could have had 4 glorious hours of sleep. But then I wouldn’t get my one adult conversation of the day.

End day. Repeat.

May 1, 2012 by Samantha

Time is on my side

So I’m sitting on the toilet attempting to take a dump. I know what a classy way to start a blog. But really that is what I was doing at the moment. And me pooping is kinda monumental. I never do. I also almost named this blog everyone poops but me. True story. So I’m on the crapper reading Hot Water Music which is the perfect place to read anything by Bukowski. And then it dawns on me I’m going to die someday. Preferably when I’m very old but death is inevitable. Time is not on my side.

I have been feeling old lately. The first 32 years of my life disappeared somewhat in a flash. I’m not sure if it was because of having children. Or if when you became an adult life speeds up. The older my children get the more desperate I am to halt time. Can I reverse it?

I fear very few things okay scratch that. I’m scared of everything but I fear time the most. It is unrelenting.

Oh and I wish I could just embrace life and relish in it. But all I want to do is sleep. I am beyond exhausted. I have been sleeping in 20-30 minute intervals for the last week. The twins some how have regressed. No time hasn’t halted but their ability to sleep through the night has.

I keep telling myself I’m gonna miss this. I can sleep when I’m dead. And at 4am this morning I kinda wished I was dead. And babies are kinda jerks. They could care less that mommy is exhausted crying on the floor begging them to please go to sleep.

Time and sleep can suck it. Thank goodness for coffee and Pepsi.

April 29, 2012 by Samantha

She said what?

I’ve said it before I do not wear babies. Babies ain’t for wearing. I prefer clothes. But if I did say wear a baby, is it not between baby and I what is most comfortable? Hip dysplasia and over stimulation, oh my. Okay I can get the hip scenario. But I am pretty sure there is not an entire generation of arthritic 20 year olds because the Boba hadn’t been invented yet.

Also I learned recently that stay at home moms are rich out of touch animals. Who are a dredge on society. Ouch. All I want to know is where is my husband hiding all this money? My honey has been holding out. Weird I have no value as a woman for raising my own children. Well I better run out and get a job. Maybe a satisfying career at Taco Bell. People need tacos and I need a W2 to qualify as a productive member of society. There is no way I could possibly be intelligent and insightful. I wipe noses and bottoms all day!

I vaccinate my children and I don’t breast feed. I also prefer a cold sterile hospital room over my bathtub to birth babies. And I love McDonalds. Shoot put me on some bad crunchy mom list. Heck I don’t even cloth diaper to save the earth or money. I think they are cute!

Damn Sam get your act together. Pick a side. Are you a woman of today or a relic of the past? You can’t be both.

Forget about man keeping us down. We need to figure out when it became woman vs. woman. When did we start keeping and putting each other down. It is shameful the way we tear each other apart. There is no sisterhood. I am right, you are wrong period. What a scary mentality.

Where do I sign up for a penis? Is it too late? The fellas still have that whole bros before hoes thing right? I need some solidarity! I feel like I’m living in the Highlander. And we are trying to annihilate each other. Because well you know in the end there can only be one. Yup I just compared today’s angst of womanhood to a Sean Connery film.

It is tough being a woman these days. Now where did I put my sword? It must be hiding under my stacks of money and cloth diapers.

CandyBottoms

this is me being a grown up