Thursday, June 27, 2013

I'm Pooped

Well hello lovelies. If your not interested in the last two weeks of my life then stop reading now. I'm serious. I am going to recount in painstaking detail the events that have unfolded {continue to unfold} since the 10th of the month.

Where shall I begin?  Tuesday was our 7 year anniversary.  The only reason I know this is because my friend D sent me a text wishing me a happy anni.  Yes, Pete and I both forgot it was our anniversary.  Sad.  Very sad.  I remember a time not long ago when I would get a perfectly wrapped silver Neiman Marcus box filled with DY beauties.  I mourn the loss of those days.  I REALLY mourn the loss of those days.  Instead I got a handful of crap from my 2 year old.  Literally. We'll get to that....

For ease of reading all this BS bullet points are in order.

  • I was in the ER twice the week of the 10th with my main squeeze NPF4.  The little guy was diagnosed with RSV. AGAIN.  Poor thing.  Kid can't catch a break.  
  • As soon as he started feeling better M decided that she would shove a Minnie Mouse whistle down his throat.  Yes, a whistle. I was in the kitchen fetching the little guy's bottle when I hear M yelling "blow whistle Nicoli blow whistle Nicoli blow whistle Nicoli".  It took me a second to process - I ran from the kitchen to the family room to find M laying on top of NPF4 holding the whistle half way down his throat.  M says "mama Nicky blow whistle".  Mama responds "no, Nicky is choking". Yet another trip to the doc.  Apparently in an effort to get NPF4 to blow the whistle M managed to scratch and irritate the back of his throat. NPF4 aka Nicoli, Nicky and Sprout couldn't cry or make a sound for two days. No joke.  Again, poor thing.
  •  For those of you who know the deal I am alone with my wee ones A LOT.  Like oh lets see - 85 to 90 hours per week.  Yup.  Ouch. I do everything by myself and I'm damn proud. Yes, I'm tooting my own horn. I have taken the little naughties to the beach alone on multiple occasions.  Now, I'm not saying it's the safest thing to do, but I do it because I refuse to sit around all day and do nothing. Plus, I'm in desperate need of a tan.  Sorry, I digress.  Anyway, we were at a beach birthday party and I asked my neighbor to watch M for a second.  She was running in and out of the water trying to escape the waves as they approached the shore. I'm literally gone for not even 3 minutes to take NPF4 to our towel so  I could reapply his sunscreen.  No sooner do I turn around and I hear screaming. The whole beach is looking in one direction and people were running toward the water.  Yup, it's my kid.  Of course.  For a split second I was thinking about running in the other direction and getting in the car and taking off. Unfortch, one of my neighbors flagged me down motioning for me to come to the water.  Apparently M was taken under by a wave, tumbled a few times and was now crying hysterically.  Sweet.  NPF4 is strapped to my chest {I friggen hate baby carriers} and M was screaming like a lunatic AND the entire beach was staring at me most likely thinking I'm a shitty mom.  Be jealous folks. Not quite sure what else to say about this one.
  • So I finally make it to work last Thursday after being out for almost two weeks.  I get to work at 8:45 {fashionably late as I should be in at 8}sit down for a second and my phone rings at 8:46. Daycare.  The dreaded call from daycare.  Pick up the phone to hear "M has a temp of 104 and a rash all over her body". No joke people.  No joke.  I can't even tell you how excited I was to be at work and no sooner do I get there and have to head back home. Take M to the doc - viral infection.  Awesome. After the doc we go home and I tell the workers at my house that they need to leave early. I told them I am going to verbally abuse my husband the second he walks in the door from work. I kindly asked them to leave unless they wanted to witness the most awesome display of verbal assault on any individual. They packed up their tools and left promptly. I kid you not. Now I had no reason to yell at the big guy but as ya'll know we tend to take out our anger and  frustration on the ones we love most.  Luckily for Pete he called me on his ride home to tell me he gave up his ticket to the Stanley Cup game and was going to spend the night at home with the family.  Smart man. Very smart man.  My verbal assault was no longer necessary.  I bottled it up and will save it for a later date. 
  • We went to a carnival last weekend and M did toots in her pants.  It was about 1,000 degrees out and she insisted that I carry her to the car because like any responsible parent I forgot the diapers and wipes at home.  Ugh. Get to the car put her in the car seat and look down.  My white tank top was covered in crap.  Steamy poop. Delicious.
  • This past Monday I took M to the beach. She crapped her pants on the ride home.  She had toots going from her ankles up to the back of her neck.  I walked around the house and offered every single worker $100 cash to change her.  Not one taker.  After I cleaned my gal up I was sitting in the family room talking to the contractor when M took off her pee pee diaper, threw it at my face and proceeded to run around the house laughing. Being a parent is so glamorous.

 The sad part is I couldn't even make this shit up. xox

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