Don't You Understand? I'm Sick!

Why can't I call in sick to my mommy job? Yesterday, I woke up feeling nauseous, weak, light-headed and just plain awful. I also had a really bad headache and just wanted to sleep all day, but I have 2 babies who need to be changed, fed, entertained, and disciplined. Who was going to do that if I didn't? So I reluctantly got up to do my mommy duties. I thought maybe they would understand that mommy wasn't feeling well and would be easy on me...NOPE! I tried to put both kids down for naps at the same time, but Maia refused to sleep and her crying was not helping my headache so I gave up on trying to make her fall asleep. Noah slept for about 45 minutes when he usually sleeps for 2 hours. When he got up, he decided to terrorize my house because I think he could tell that I was slower than usual and by the time I caught up to him, I didn't have the energy to punish him. I chose to brave taking them to the community pool because Noah was developing a case of Cabin Fever. I got him ready to go and packed up our stuff. Of course Maia Belle cried the entire time we were there because she didn't sleep earlier. No one else was at the pool so I ignored her and watched Noah to make sure he didn't drown. (Although if he did start to go under I don't think I'd be much help since I was starting to see stars and felt like I was going to faint at any second.)  We finished our time at the pool and headed back home. Maia fell asleep but as soon as I picked her up to take her in the house, she woke up crying. I wanted to cry with her. After lugging both kids upstairs along with all their stuff, I started having hot flashes and feeling like I was going to pass out. But, Noah was hungry and wanted his lunch. No time to rest. I put Maia Belle in her swing and made Noah's lunch. As I sat down to feed him, I layed my head on his tray. I just needed to sleep. He laughed at me and pulled my hair because he wanted me to get up and feed him. It took everything within me to lift my head. I decided to feed him fast so that I could go to sleep. I think he might have gagged a couple of times because I just kept shoving food in his mouth.  As soon as he was done, I put him in his crib and I put Maia in hers and I went straight to bed. I remembered that I hadn't brushed my teeth that morning and I considered getting up to do so, yeah right, I was way too tired. I fell asleep to the babies crying. Two hours later I woke up in a daze to crying kids. I still felt like crap and I still had 2 crying children to care for. All I wanted to do was call in sick and go back to sleep. 

My Chiquita Banana

The only reason for this post is to show off my little cutie! I love having a girl. Sometimes I treat her like a doll and dress her up and try different bows on her. She is just so much fun! 

P.S. Please ignore her abnormally long finger toes in picture number 2. They kind of look like monkey feet! 

How Do They Survive?

I now measure success by the number of bruises or injuries Noah has at the end of the day. The smaller the number of injuries, the more successful I feel. I am proud of myself when I put him to bed and he only has one protruding bump on his head or one scratch on his face. When he has 2 protruding bumps on his head, one scratch on his arm, one red rug burn on his face, a tweaked ankle, and a scraped knee, I feel like I should be fired from being a mommy. Today...I should have been fired! He did a "Superman" (as my husband called it) down the slide on the playground. Apparently he fell head first down the slide which gave him a nice red burn on his cheek and on his knee. He fell off the step stool in the kitchen and tweaked his ankle. He slipped in the shower and bumped his head and he smashed his finger while opening and closing drawers. How are my kids going to make it past age 1? Do all kids get injured this much or do I really deserve to get fired? 

Mani-cyoo

I really need to get a manicure. My nails are all different lengths and jagged and my cuticles look horrible. They are a symbol of how "Blah" I feel and I think maybe if I got them done, I would feel better. There are two problems though: 1. I have negative money...that's right, NEGATIVE. 2. My last manicure experience. Obviously, you can all understand the money problem so the purpose of this post is to explain problem #2.

 Three years ago I went to get my nails manicured the day before my wedding day. I went to a place that someone had given me a gift certificate for because I don't have a place that I go to regularly. I walk in the salon and all the ladies giving pedicures, say "Hello," and proceed to yell for someone from in the back.  A petite lady comes out from the back with her mouth full of food and asks, "You wan you nay-yoo done?" 

Me: Yes, please. I need a manicure.

Lady: You wan pedi-cyoo en mani-cyoo? 

Me: No just a manicure please.

She then talks in another language to all the other ladies in the salon and it seems like they tell her to do my nails herself.

Lady: You pick cuh-luh

Me: Oh I want a French Manicure

Lady: Oh okay, sit. You wan pay-luh-fin dip? 

Me: Excuse me?

Lady: (Gesturing with her hands) Pay-luh-fin dip? Wax? Fo fy dolluh mo. 

Me: No thanks. (I didn't really understand until later that she was saying Paraffin Dip but I did understand the 5 dollars more and so I said no.)

She points me to a station and I sit down. She begins the manicure process and I try to make conversation telling her it's my wedding the next day hoping that she will do an extra good job but the conversation goes nowhere because although I pride myself on understanding people with accents, I don't understand a word she is saying and I don't think she understands me either. So, I sit in silence and she holds a conversation with one of the ladies on the other side of the salon who is doing a pedicure on someone else. I was amazed that they could hear each other with all the other talking going on. As she pulled out the cuticle trimmer thingy, I started to get nervous.  How is she going to continue her conversation with the lady on the other side of the salon who she keeps looking up at and laughing with while cutting my cuticles? I figure, she is a professional and does this on a daily basis and I will be fine. But, as she starts to trim the dead skin around my finger nails, I feel a pinch and jump and realize that she just cut me. She continues her conversation and doesn't even acknowledge that she just hurt me. I look down and notice that my finger is starting to bleed. She reaches in her bucket of tools, pulls out some clear liquid with no label, and squirts it on my finger. It stings like crazy. She continues on to the next finger and proceeds with her conversation. A few minutes later I feel another painful pinch. She has cut another one of my fingers. Pulling out the unlabeled liquid, she lets out a nervous giggle and smiles at me. Great, now I am going to have bloody scabby fingers for my wedding! I just sit quietly and hope that she will be more careful now. She is down to my last finger, when she cuts me again. I am pissed at this point but I am not one to make a scene in these situations so I just say "Ouch" and look at her to let her know that I noticed this one this time. She smiles back at me, pulls out the stinging liquid,  giggles, and says, "Ohh, you hab teen skeen." WHAT?! I have "thin skin?" That is her reason for cutting me? I can't believe she just blamed me for butchering my fingers? Good thing I have a gift certificate. I would be pretty annoyed if I had to spend my own money for this madness. I just smile back sweetly and pray for her to finish with the trimming. Eventually she finishes with no other incidences. I give her my gift certificate and she takes it back to another lady who works there. Then that lady calls over two other ladies and they all inspect the gift certificate and look up at me as if to determine if I was the kind of person who would bring in a fake gift certificate. They call to the back and a man comes out, inspects the gift certificate, looks at me, and goes and makes a phone call. He hangs up the phone and walks toward me.

Man: Uh, you pay dees tine and use dees nex tine. 

Me: Why? Is my gift certificate not for this place? 

Man: Well, we try to call ownuh but he no ansuh. So you pay dees tine. But don't trow away, you use nex tine. 

Ugh! I was so frustrated by this point, I just paid with my debit card and got out of there. 

Until I find a product to thicken the skin around my cuticles and a place where I can use my fake gift certificate, I refuse to get a manicure.  

What White Stuff?

The babies are asleep and the hubby is out getting me my Starbucks fix (with EXTRA whipped cream) so I have time to do a quick blog. 

  Today when we got to church and were getting the babies out of the truck and into the stroller, my husband pointed out white scrapes all over Big Mama's (my big black truck) front bumper. "What is that?" Ricky asked. Oh Shoot! What did I do? I don't remember. Think fast..."What is what?" I asked back. "Those white scrapes on the front of the truck. Did you run into the wall in the garage?" Uh oh. The other day when I had to endure an hour of Maia's screaming on the way home from the beach, I was a bit flustered by the time I got home and I may have pulled in a little too far and I might have "kissed" the wall but I don't know for sure so that means there is a possibility that I am not the culprit. "You're the one who drove the truck last so it had to be you." I replied. "But I always back into the garage so how could I have scraped the front bumper?" Dang it! Uh uh uh, oh got it..."You probably scraped up against one of those light pole thingys when you parked it at the grocery store the other day. It doesn't look that bad anyways. We could like start a new trend with with trucks; a little white dry wall on the front bumper adds character to Big Mama." To which my gracious husband responded, "Mmm hmmm," and let it go. Phew! That was a close one.  

P.S. Ricky just called me from "The Bucks" and said that they are all out of white mocha syrup stuff. How lame is that? I have been craving an iced decaf white mocha with extra whipped cream all day and now they don't have it? I told him that they better give me something for free...no such luck. I am writing someone a letter about this!!!...Oh wait...he just got home and my drink has A LOT of whipped cream on it. All is forgiven and right with the world and no letter is necessary. 

To Cut or Not To Cut, That is the Question

I am so sick of my hair. It is so long and takes forever to do. I think I blow dry it like twice a month and the rest of the time I wear it back in a pony tail. I want to cut it but I am too cheap to pay for my hair to just get trimmed. The way I see it is if I am going to pay more than $20 to get my hair cut, then it better be a drastic hair cut that people notice. So, I've been entertaining the idea of getting my hair cut into an angled bob for the past year, but I have always had an excuse like being pregnant. Now, I don't have an excuse and my hair needs to be cut since it has been 8 months since the last time it was trimmed. Do I go drastic and chop it all off and make a scene by crying my eyes out in the chair because I now look like a boy and the hair that took me years to grow out is now lying dead on the floor and make the stylist feel horrible? Or do I just get it trimmed and be bitter that I spent money and nobody to notices my hair cut and it still takes me an hour to blow dry my hair and be disappointed in myself for wussing out? Ay yaiy yaiy. What am I to do? 

My Kids Love Each Other...Really, They Do!

I thought this picture was a classic. I had to share!