Better

Friday was much, much better.

Fecal Thursday

- Wake up grumpy, sore, still tired. . . nothing new I'm 8 mo. Preggo.

- Go to Mommy club at Splash Park. . . No one else showed.

- On way home stop and get gas. . . After I was done pumping, the car wouldn't start.

- Drink 2 Diet Cokes . . . rather than give me a happy lift, I end up more irritable.

- Sit down to a nice chat on Facebook. . . Jonas takes off poopy diaper while in his crib and smears poo everywhere. Positive note- Cleaning it up didn't make me puke, thanks to a bandanna sprayed with vanilla linen freshener tied around my face.

- Sit down to enjoy some TV. . . Big crash or maybe kind of a "thud, glug, glug" sound comes from the hallway. I had a brand new Costco size bottle of fabric softener sitting on top of the dryer. While I was drying the now clean poop sheets, the vibrations caused humongous bottle to fall on the floor and explode! Plus side - Now the floor is so slick and slimy the kids can skate on it. Entertainment for hours!

- Finally, lay down in bed for another restless, toss and turny night. . . Dinner doesn't agree with me. Go throw up. Sleep on the couch in order to keep head propped up and what's left of dinner in tummy.

Here's to hoping today is better.

Rainy Day

It rained all night last night and it is gloomy and gray outside. I am curled in the arm chair with a blanket, hot cup of tea in hand. I turned the air conditioner way up so I can pretend it is the kind of rainy day I miss and not the hot and steamy Arizona kind.

A few things that probably should have been said to people's faces, but in my usual avoid confrontation way didn't get said and are now eating at me

I am tired of all the wailing and gnashing of teeth over socialized medicine. Um, last I heard that wasn't the plan being tossed around. Do you honestly think all those happy little argumentative Washington people would sign off on socialized medicine? No way, the insurance companies are lining far too many of their pockets. I just wish all you soap boxers and doom and gloomers would stop being so negative and quit posting your propaganda all over the web, cuz guess what, we need health care reform.

Have you ever not been able to take your kid to the doctor because you couldn't afford it? When we didn't have insurance, I didn't have the opportunity to wait in line like a Canadian to get care for my kid. I just didn't get care.

Or how about this little fantastic episode. A few months ago my 1 year old son had a frightening case of croup. When he tried to inhale he was pulling so hard that not only the little soft spot in his neck sucked in, but his entire stomach caved in. I could see his rib cage with every breath. I took him to the all night instacare and the receptionist honestly said, "He doesn't have a fever? Do you know how expensive a visit here is?" The kid could barely breath and they were trying to turn me away! I told them I had insurance and suddenly it was okay for me to be there. While we were getting treated, the nurse said she had never seen a kid struggling that much to breath. I have to wonder what happens to the equally terrified mom who comes in and doesn't have insurance.

I know people whose medications cost them half their monthly salary. I know people who have been turned away from insurance companies or can only get extremely high priced plans because they have a pre-existing condition. Those of you whose insurance is happily covered by your work, do you know how much insurance costs if you are self employed or if your job doesn't cover it? At one point we paid almost $300 a month just to add Kate onto my plan since my job only covered me. $300 when my job was already paying equal to that for me, so, close to $600 a month?!? There has got to be something better than this! I just pray that by the time they sign off on a plan that makes everyone happy, it actually makes things better! If not, maybe I will move to Canada and see just how bad socialized medicine is first hand.

Someday. . .

. . . I won't have to pack a 50 lb. "mom bag" everywhere I go.

. . . I will be able to take a long luxurious shower without worrying that someone will chop his/her finger off while I am in the bathroom.

. . . I will be able to poop in peace.

. . . I will not have to mow the lawn because the boys will be old enough to do it.

. . . I will be able to go to the grocery store alone.

. . . I will have enough money to remove some of my excess boobage and pick them up off my belly button.

. . . my house will stay clean for longer than 1.5 seconds.

. . . every statement or question directed at me won't begin with the words, "Um Mom"

. . . I won't have to deal with so much poop. (I mean that literally, not figuratively. One always has to deal with the figurative kind.)

. . . I will be able to sit down to a nice family dinner where everyone uses utensils and no one rubs food in their hair.

. . . I will not have to share every morsel of food I have.

. . . I will be able to have nice cold drink without someone putting their slimy hands in it and stealing my ice.

Metamorphosis

I am afraid I may be morphing into Mama Fratelli. I can feel my face scrunching into a permanent scowl. Everything I say comes out in a growl and includes a threat.

I often find myself shoving the kids out of my bedroom door, slamming it shut and, in a very Mama-esque way, leaning my weary frumpy body against the door, heaving an exasperated sigh and grumbling, "Kids Suck."

It is probably a good thing we don't own a blender.

Apparently I'm not the only mother that has gone through this transformation. Bill Cosby's wife had the same problem.

Discussions with the 4 Year Old

Me: Kate! Don't jump on the couch!

Kate: Why?

Me: Because you will break the couch!

Kate: And then what?

Me: Then we won't have a couch to sit on!

Kate: And then what?

Me: Then you will stand in the corner!

Kate: And then what?

Me: Then you will lose a movie!

Kate: And then what?

Me: Then I will beat your butt!

Kate: And then what?