Dear CPS

Dear Child Protective Services,

 Please ignore the screaming child in the background...eventually she will cry herself to sleep. Anyways, let's get to the reason for this letter. There is absolutely no reason for you to come investigate me and take my children from me. My parents have been reading my blog and are worried that their grandchildren will be taken away  and thrown into "the system" because of my posts. Let me assure you that both my husband and I love our children deeply and do our best to provide a loving and safe environment for them to grow up in. If you could just overlook the bruise on my son's cheek and the bump protruding from his forehead that would be great. I just can't seem to convince the kid that he is not yet steady enough on his feet to run. I m currently in the process of covering all my walls with foam and cushioning my floors with bubble wrap. I also am working on never being more than two feet away from my kid when he plays outside so as to prevent him from falling. I will also be investing in a helmet and full body protective gear for him.  Please continue to disregard the crying baby, I know it's been 15 minutes but I promise she will eventually fall asleep, it's called "self-soothing." If this too is reason for investigation, I will invent a device in which I can carry her at all times. This may mean that I will be compromising my personal hygiene as it will be quite difficult to use the restroom and shower with my daughter connected to me. I will also need some monetary compensation from you as I will be fired from my job for not being as effective. Oh, and one more thing, my marriage will most likely not work out since it will be impossible to have a good relationship with my husband while I am following 2 feet behind a one year old and have a baby connected to me at all times. So, if you could help me figure out a solution to that, that would be greatly appreciated. 

  In closing, there is no reason for concern despite what you may read on this blog. Moreover, with all of the precautionary measures mentioned above, my kids will never get a bump or bruise and will never have reason to cry again.

Yours Truly,

Soon to be perfect mother of two

P.S. Noah has been relieved of his house cleaning duties. I have stocked up on energy drinks so that I never have to sleep. I now clean the house at night while my children are asleep. 

Where is the Maid?

If you look closely at Noah's feet, you can see that the maid is not doing her job. Noah has been inside all day walking around barefoot. When I put him on  the couch, I noticed how dirty his feet were and thought, where the heck is the maid?....Okay, okay, I don't have a maid. I am the maid.  And, I obviously suck at my job. I just live in denial everyday convincing myself that the maid will clean up, but everyday I wake up and the house is still a mess. After seeing Noah's feet today, reality hit me like the smell of one of his poopy diapers. It was not pleasant but I knew it had to be done. So, I wet a towel, put Noah on his belly on top of it and told him to army crawl around the house. I feel better about myself now that the floor is semi-clean.

Do Questionable Photos = Questionable Parent?

I think we would all agree that some people just shouldn't be parents. I do not consider myself to be one of those people. However, as I was looking through my photos today, I began to second guess myself. Maybe I am one of those people. What do you think?...


I swear I didn't know that a child could experience a hang over from too much baby Motrin.

Doesn't every parent tie a shoe lace around ther kid's tummy as an accessory?

He won't stay away from those dang electrical outlets! At least the shock gave him a cool hair do. Just ignore the cut on his cheek, he was attacked by a toy when I wasn't watching.

This is a new method of potty training. It's "organic." Take your kid in dirty green parasite infested lake water and take off his diaper.

Don't let the facial expression fool you. He loves being in the hamper with the dirty clothes...okay who am I kidding? It makes for a great time-out spot. Isn't the point of punishment to make your kid never want to be bad again?

Although, he may look uncomfortable, he is not. This is completely safe and he loves to bend his back that way.



It was his first "bleeder" and daddy had to get an action shot. It was much more important than comforting him because we make him look at it now to remember the pain and it makes him never want to fall again. It's a teaching tool.

We didn't want her to be embarrassed by her baby acne which could have a lasting effect on her self-esteem so we just covered her face with her pretty butterfly headband.

Who knew killing flies could be so funny?

I have been trying to upload this video for a week now! Why do computers have to be so tempermental? I almost punched a hole through mine trying to get this video on here, so you all better like it. Anyways...in this video, I am multitasking. I was on the phone with my dad and trying to kill the pesky Chino flies at the same time. Who knew that I would be Noah's entertainment as well?

P.S. No matter what you may think after viewing this video, my son is not a smoker.

An Hour in My Shoes

Yesterday morning, my wonderful husband decided that he would let me sleep in because he knew how sleep deprived I've been. He said that he would handle the kids while I slept in for a couple of hours. So, at 7:30 he took Maia Belle and closed the bedroom door and let me get back to my sweet dreams. I dreamt of a little boy screaming from his crib and a daddy telling him to shush. Then the little boy ran from his daddy yelling "Whey ees Daa Daa" (translation: Where is Mama). I was startled out of my sweet dreams by Noah barging into my room and yelling "Dey ee is" (translation: There she is.) Ricky quickly pulled him out of my room and locked the door so he could no longer come in. It took me awhile to fall back to sleep as Noah was standing at the door yelling for me, Ricky was trying to coax him away from the door while shushing him, and Maia Belle started to cry because Noah's yelling scared her. My dream for the next 45 minutes consisted of a baby crying, a little boy terrorizing his house, and a daddy's constant rebuking. By this point I decided enough was enough. If I didn't rescue my husband right that second, I would no longer have a family. I knew that he was on the verge of killing our children.  I stopped pretending I was dreaming and faced the fact that I would never again in my life get to sleep in past 7. I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the scene that awaited me on the other side of the door...I found a trail of toys in the hallway, a screaming baby in the office in her bassinet with a soaking wet diaper, Ricky trying to shove a pacifier in her mouth to get her to shut up, and Noah shirtless with a shoe lace around his neck dropping a handful of toys in the dining room and wondering if I was the one who was going to finally feed him. My dear sweet husband looked at me with desperation in his eyes and said, "How the heck do you do this everyday?" The time was 8:30 a.m. 

Doctor's Visits are Not for the Weak

Yesterday, Noah had a doctor's appointment with an orthopaedic specialist. I knew it was going to be a bad experience when we made the appointment months ago. 

  I get up and get ready early, I pack the diaper bag, I feed the baby so she will sleep the entire time we are out, and I get the kids in the car. I hurt my back getting the "double wide" into the back of the truck...it has to weigh 100 lbs. The whole drive over I am thinking about how I am going to qualify for a loan to pay for the gas for this trip because I had to drive all the way to Baldwin Park. I am also starting to panic thinking about how I am going to maneuver Big Mama and park her in the claustrophobic parking structure. Please Lord, let there be a parking space outside. We arrive and I find a parking space outside and 2 miles from the building (whatever it takes  to avoid the parking structure with my massive truck). By the time I unload the kids and the stroller and take the journey to the building, my newborn is screaming her head off and drawing lots of concerned looks my way. Not to mention I have arm pit stains from the sweat I have worked up and the perspiration is beginning to drip from my forehead as well. We check in at 11:00, his appointment is at 11:15. My baby is still screaming and Noah doesn't want to be next to her so he is screaming to get out. I take Noah out and let him run around and I feed the baby again so people will stop staring at me. Bad idea. I have a kid attached to my boob and I am trying to keep Noah from eating the leaves off the plants in  the waiting room. I finish feeding Maia but she is still screaming. Finally, one hour later they take us back into a tiny room for another 30 minutes. I am trying to keep Noah from touching anything and from going out of the room while trying to keep Maia happy. After about 15 minutes, I gave up. I let Noah touch whatever he went for and let him escape the room and run down the halls all the while Maia was screaming. I figured they would get really irritated with us and send the doctor in so that we would get out of there. We finally saw the doctor at 12:40. She said that there is really nothing she could do for Noah's feet. He will eventually grow out of it or will just be flat footed. I wanted to strangle her and tell her, "Do you realize what I just went through for you to tell me that my visit was pointless? You better do surgery or something to make this worth my while, dang it!" 

I am now broke, sore, and in need of some pills. 

What the heck is the "Hafamuh Virus?"

A couple of weeks ago, my son Noah had a really high fever and was really sick. Ricky came home from taking Noah to see the doctor and let me know that Noah had the "Hafamuh Virus." I had never heard of such a thing so I kept asking questions. Ricky's response to all my questions was "I don't know." I looked up the virus online and found nothing. In my mind I was thinking is this virus so rare and awful that they don't have any information on it? I began to think the worst. 

 

Me: "Why don't you know anything about this virus?" Why didn't you ask?"  

Ricky: "I did ask but the doctor was Asian and had a really thick accent."

Ding, Ding, Ding! My husband cannot decipher English with an accent if his life depended on it. I, on the other hand, love accents and pride myself on imitating them and understanding English spoken in any accent.  

Me: What does this "Hafamuh Virus" do? 

Ricky: Well she kept pointing to his hands and feet and she checked out his throat and said something about blisters.

Hmmm...blisters on his hands, feet, and mouth; "Hafamuh Virus;" and Asian accent. I pictured my friend's mother who is Chinese pronouncing these words..."han, foo, and mou." 

Me: "Oooooohhh, it's the Hand, Foot, and Mouth Virus!" 

Ricky: "Oh yeah...I guess that is what she said. It sounded like 'Haa- Fa -Muh' to me and she kept saying it really fast." 

Sheesh, that is the last time I send Ricky to the doctor. 

I've Been Tagged

The rules: I am to list 6 quirky things about myself; then "tag" 6 others to do the same. 

Quirk #1: I have a lame finger. My ring finger on my right hand is missing a joint and does not bend at the top. This is why I don't play guitar...okay that's just what I tell myself, really I don't play guitar because I've never tried. 

Quirk #2: I am obsessed with feeding my child healthy food and not allowing him to have sugar or processed foods. I am so obsessed that I almost have an anxiety attack when we go to my in-laws house because they don't really understand my obsession and try to give my kid sugar all the time. I watch him like a hawk when we are there and am exhausted by the time we leave. 

Quirk #3: I really really really wish I could dance. I love to watch people dance and my favorite show is "So You Think You Can Dance." I have had serious conversations with God asking him why he chose to leave out rhythm in my DNA. I have also let him know how upset I am about this. I feel like my husband got cheated too. Because if I could dance, I feel like I could add a little spice, if you know what I mean =). I think if I tried to dance for Ricky, he would think I was having convulsions, and it would completely kill the mood. The only time I dance is when I dance with Noah when no one is around. He kind of looks at me weird and I think if he could, he would ask me to please stop because I embarrass him.  

Quirk #4: When I go out with the kids by myself, on our way home, I only think about one thing: How am I going to get both kids, the diaper bag, and whatever we have gathered on our outing into the house and up the stairs in one trip. Our condo is designed in such a way that the entire living space is upstairs. As we near the house, I seriously strategize and try to visualize our entrance into the house. I won't even answer my cell phone if it rings while I am strategizing. 

Quirk #5: I am horrible at getting gifts for people on time and I forget all birthdays. I am usually super late on gifts which is awful, I know. I am trying to work on this. 

Quirk #6: I really want to get a cleaning lady to come deep clean my house but I am too embarrassed because I don't want her to think that I am the laziest person ever since my house is so small. 

Quirk #7: I need a plan for everything, (hence quirk number 4). Please do not ask me to be spontaneous. I am incapable. I have to plan the spontaneity. 

Okay, I don't even think that 6 people read my blog and the 2 people I know who do read my blog and have blogs themselves have already been tagged so I am breaking the rules and not tagging anyone! But, if you do read my blog and would like to share your quirks, I'd love to read them in the comment section.

I'll take a quadruple tall latte with a shot of vodka please...

So it turns out Starbucks doesn't serve hard liquor. Shoot! It's 9:45 a.m. on Saturday and I need a drink. Let me give you a run down of my day so far

2:45 a.m -I have only been asleep for about 3 hours and Maia Belle is screaming because she is hungry. I sleepily shove a pacifier in her mouth hoping she'll understand that I am exhausted and she'll go back to sleep...No such luck, she gags and is pissed because I tried to trick her. She decides to take forever to eat. She continues to show me how she has not yet forgiven me by peeing all over the couch as I attempt to change her diaper the dark. I get her a change of clothes, a new diaper, put her back down, leave the couch all wet, and go back to bed. 

4:30 a.m. - I finally fall back asleep after lying awake for awhile wondering if the pee will smell and stain my couch. 

6:11 a.m. - I am woken up by my lovely daughter screaming because she is hungry again. I jump out of bed and run with one eye open to get her before she wakes Noah up. I feed her and change her but she still has not gotten over the pacifier incident and decides to once again demonstrate the jet propulsion power of her poop as I am pulling her diaper off. Just what I need, another poop stain on my sheets and floor (that's right, some of it cleared the bed and hit the floor.)

6:55 a.m.- I put a towel over the poop stain and lie back down and try to sleep even though I can hear Maia's grunting noises from her bassinet.   

7:00 a.m.- If I used swear words I would use one right now but I don't so I won't. Noah is awake and is yelling for me to come get him out of his crib. 

8:30 a.m.- Maia's nap time but once again the pacifier is not doing it's job to pacify her to sleep. She is screaming and Noah is going a million miles a minute all through the house yelling "Baa Baa" because Maia is crying. 

9:00 a.m.- Maia finally dozed off and I need to let Noah get some of his energy out. We go outside to the mailboxes (his favorite thing to play with.) 

9:13 a.m.- Noah starts grunting really loudly and  assumes the squat position. His face turns bright red and I hope that the lady who is passing us with her dog does not notice what is going on. 

9:15 a.m. - Noah and I return to the house for a diaper change and as we enter are bombarded with Maia Belle's angry crying. I put Noah down so I can get Maia. He walks around the house filling it with the nasty aroma leaking out of his diaper all the while yelling "Baa baa." I wince every time he falls on his butt because I am thinking of the contents of his diaper getting smooshed and spread around and wonder how many wipes it will take to get the job done. 

9:30- Maia Belle is still screaming but I cannot handle the smell anymore I change Noah's diaper (gag) while she screams from her crib and he continues to yell "Baa baa." I use an insane amount of wipes and miraculously avoid getting poop on my fingers. 

9:35- I put Noah down for his nap and tend to the screaming child.

9:40 - Both kids are finally asleep.

9:43- Mid Life Crisis Man starts his car, revs his engine really loud, and peels out to leave for the day. I remind myself vandalize his car tonight. (This is my crazy neighbor, whose garage is right underneath my kids' room)

9:45- Thank God my kids slept through the commotion. I sit down at the computer to blog and realize that even though I am not a drinker, if Starbucks served coffee with hard liquor in it, I would probably be down there right now getting myself a drink. 

Is there such a thing as TOO low maintenance?

The other day I was thinking, wow, my husband Ricky is a lucky man because I am really low maintenance. I know some women who require lots of money to maintain themselves and their expensive pastimes i.e. shopping. As I compared myself to these women and began to make a mental list of all the reasons why Ricky should be very appreciative of his low maintenance wife,  I got a little less proud of myself and a little more grossed out. Is there such a thing as TOO low maintenance? Here is my list...

1. Lots of women shop on a weekly or even daily basis for new clothes. The last time I went shopping for myself was in the spring of 2006 and I still wear clothes that I wore in high school. 

2. Most women see pregnancy as a reason to buy a whole new wardrobe. I was pretty much pregnant for 2 years straight and only bought 3 articles of maternity clothing which were all on sale. The rest I borrowed or were gifts. 

3.  Many women go straight to the mall to buy the newest model or style of things. Before I buy anything I check craigslist to see if I can get it second hand for cheaper. I make an exception for underwear. 

4. Many women buy shoes like there is no tomorrow. I buy shoes like there will be billions of tomorrows. The last pair of tennis shoes I bought were from Payless 4 years ago and they are still my only pair of tennis shoes which are pretty worn out by now. 

5. Many women love handbags and spend ungodly amounts of money on them because they have the letters DB or LV on them. I say who needs a handbag when you've got a diaper bag? It's just as chic to carry around diaper bag with food spilled all over it as it is to carry around a handbag with letters on it. 

Here's where it starts to get questionable...

6. Most women get their hair done every 4 to 6 weeks to keep themselves looking presentable. The last time I got my hair cut was in December and it is anything but presentable so I just wear it up in a pony tail all the time. 

7. Most women shave their legs daily and need razors on a regular basis and have silky smooth legs. I never have to buy razors because I shave my legs once every 4 to 5 months. I like to think of myself as "organic." It's cool to be "organic" these days. 

8. Most women get pedicures every 3 to 4 weeks or they paint and cut their toenails themselves. As for me, I make a pedicure last for 3 months. Never mind the barely there nail polish and disgustingly long toenails. Hey, at least I get my monies worth. 

9.  Most women get their eyebrows done every couple of weeks or they upkeep their eyebrows daily. Personally, I don't remember the last time my eyebrows were done. Unibrows are sexy, right? 

Hmmmm, maybe, Ricky isn't so lucky after all...I am going to go cut my toenails and tweeze my eyebrows now...

Baby Toupee?

Don't laugh...that's my 4 week old baby girl. She started off so beautiful. She was cute as a button with beautiful skin and lots of dark hair. But now she is 4 weeks old and it's like she hit puberty and old age at the same time. She has major baby acne all over her neck, face, chest, and back and she is balding...very ungracefully balding. As you can see she is losing the hair just on the top of her head...she kind of looks like Danny DeVito and as you can also tell from the picture, she is not too happy about the new look. My brother refers to her new little "do" as a "skullet." 

 Anyways, call me vain but I have to be honest since this is a confession blog...I am a little embarrassed by this skullet and have tried to hide it with headbands when we go out but the headbands are not thick enough. Does anyone know where I can get a baby toupee? 

The Need to Confess

Sometimes I do things that are a little questionable, sometimes things happen to me that are hilarious, and sometimes my kids are just plain funny. So as a remedy for the guilt, a means to have someone share in my laughter, and because I enjoy writing, I have decided to start a blog. 

I doubt I'll have many readers but at least I'll have my therapy!  Happy reading...

Oh and if you would like to read the blogs that started this whole thing, you can visit my myspace page where I have posted many confessions blogs. I have tried to copy and paste them here but it doesn't work.