The hummingbird is napping right now which is a miracle and I’m watching Lost In Translation for the 20,000th time this month so I have time to write a very long and boring post.

Last week I mentioned how exhausted I am because the little hummingbird has been battling bedtime for months. Only a day or two after I wrote that, she’s been getting better. She still can put up a fight but not the ginormous ones that can last 2-3 hours. I always think if I write about something I’ll jinx it and make it worse but it actually seems to make things better, not always but most of the time. Just like when I was wanting to kill my hubby over petty things. After I vented about it, things improved.

Hmmm…..I would love to have Johnny Depp and/or Mark Ruffalo appear in my living room and give me a back massage……………damn, it didn’t work.

Another reason I’m so freaking exhausted and haven’t been posting as much is because I’m finally on an antidepressant. You may or may not have read that my primary doctor was being an asshole when it came to helping me with the depression I’ve been going through as well as anxiety and panic attacks.

There were 12 psychiatrists I would have been able to pick from and go to but they’re in the same practice at the local hospital and since they’re overloaded with patients, they will give a consultation and put you on meds if necessary but they need a primary doctor involved with monitoring the meds and my doctor refused.

I’ve said in another post how confusing it was because when my hubby and I lived here previously, I had the same doctor and he had no problem prescribing these meds. I was told by a member of his staff recently, who was working at my doctor’s office back when I lived here 5 years ago, that he has never prescribed antidepressants or anti-anxiety meds. Huh?

When we moved back here last summer I was thinking about trying a different doctor but decided to go with the one I had before because I thought he would give me the help if I needed it. Big mistake. I still can’t change primary doctors right now because nobody is accepting my insurance.

The anxiety I’ve had has been building up for nearly 2 years and then last fall it turned into depression. I wasn’t even going to mention it on my blog but I talk about everything else on here. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of taking meds because when I’ve been on antidepressants in the past, I get the worst side effects. But then I figured I’d rather feel zombie-ish and exhausted than cry at the drop of a hat. Of course depression is exhausting anyway.

Things are different now since I have my 2-year-old hummingbird so I can’t lay in bed all day, crying and feeling crappy like I had done when I went through depression pre-hummingbird. I also figured that since I’ve been trying to resolve this on my own for the past couple of years and it wasn’t working, I knew I had to give meds another try.

I know that therapy is a really important part of dealing with this and I’m still trying to find a psychologist but it’s been difficult since my insurance has pissed off so many providers.

I finally found a psychiatrist who doesn’t require any monitoring by my primary doctor but when I googled him and read some of his reviews, my heart sank. I know people are going to have many different opinions about doctors but when I read several that said things like avoid this doctor at all costs I thought effity eff.

I really don’t have any other options though so I’m stuck with this guy. When I called for the first appointment, they made it very clear that he doesn’t do any psychotherapy, he only does medication. My husband tried to look on the bright side and keeps on telling me that at least I’m on meds but last week was really bad and when I went to see this psychiatrist, who I’ve dubbed Dr. So Called “Doctor”, it sucks that he’s so cold and I was really needing to talk some things out. I’m still checking my insurance so if another psychiatrist becomes available, I hope to switch.

The best way I can describe him is if he was a lawyer, he would no doubt be an ambulance chaser. When I go to see him, I’m in his office less than 5 minutes. He has this huge wooden desk and a few chairs to his right side. I basically just sit there while he goes over my file and he asks me to come back the same time next week, gives me an appointment card, and writes down how many med samples I need that I then give to his receptionist who goes and gets them. He’s waiting to see what dosage I need with the meds before he prescribes them. At least that’s what I hope he’s doing.

While I’m sitting there in silence while he reads my file, I stare at his shoes. He has these shoes that look really tight on his feet and buckle on the side but they’re never buckled. I see him in the late afternoon so maybe his shoes bug him by the end of the day but all I can look at are his unbuckled shoes and wonder why in the hell doesn’t he just get another pair of shoes. It looks like he takes his shoes, stretches them out as far as they will go, and even has the tongue of his shoes sticking up so his shoes look like they have a boner.

I’ve suffered for fashion before although not for years. I live in yoga pants and flip-flops but from what I’ve seen, he could care less about fashion. My hubby and I talk about Dr. So Called “Doctor” and his unbuckled shoes after every appointment. For the rest of the day I wonder about this guy’s freaking shoes. Is it the only pair he owns? Do they give him super powers? Are they permanently stuck on his feet?

The so called “doctor” has me on an antidepressant and also an anti-anxiety med to take as needed. As shady as this “doctor” seems and as much as I don’t like him, I wanted to cry tears of joy when he said he’s giving me an anti-anxiety med. I’ve been having horrible panic attacks (not that panic attacks are ever a joy to have), sometimes two a day, and knowing I have something just in case makes me feel better. It’s like a placebo effect.

Since I’ve only been on the meds a couple of weeks, I’m still getting used to them so my mind is kind of loopy which is really nothing new and they make my brain feel fuzzy. I have no idea how else to describe it except feeling fuzzy.

So, to make another short story really long which is what I do best, this is why I haven’t been posting that often. I’m sure soon enough I’ll be posting my usual crazy nonsense (I’ve just started a post about this wheelbarrow guy in my neighborhood who’s probably a serial killer and possibly burying people by our house and another about pain in the ass cupcakes. I know, riveting stuff.) but right now when I try to write, I end up staring at a blank screen with the cursor going blink, blink, blink.

I’m having moments where I’m starting to feel a little more like myself but I know it’s going to be a long process. I’m looking forward to finding a therapist because I know that will make me feel so much better. I’ve been to a few therapists in the past and I’ve been really lucky when it comes to having great ones.

The last therapist I went to taught me different ways to deal with anxiety but when I’m in the middle of a panic attack, it’s really hard for me to use what she taught me since my thoughts become irrational. Anxiety is my biggest issue and if it gets to be too much, it ends up turning into depression if I let it go on for too long.

Having depression and anxiety is hell and it’s like you’re a prisoner in your own body but I’m hoping in the near future, I’ll be feeling much better.

I promise in my next post I won’t even mention the D word or ponder why this “doctor” won’t buckle his only pair of super power shoes that are stuck on his feet.

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I could never be a pediatric dentist because I’d probably end up fingerless and have to hold my dental instruments with my feet but nobody would want to go to a fingerless dentist so really I’m saving money and years of having to go to dental school.

We took the little hummingbird to the dentist a few weeks ago. I’ve heard some people say your kid needs a check-up at 1, some have said 3, some say not until they start school. Oy, it’s so confusing. She was born with a tooth, yeah it was a little creepy, and we’ve noticed that since she was getting her other teeth in, the one she was born with started receding into her gums and was looking kind of funky.

The day she was born, she had her tooth checked out by a pediatric dentist from the hospital. A few of the nurses were saying the tooth will probably need to be pulled and since I was like wha? nuh uh!, they had the dentist come and check it out and he said it was a real tooth that didn’t need to be pulled and to just leave it alone. Whew!

She had her 2nd BIRTHDAY!! back in April and my hubby and I were thinking she should go see a pediatric dentist soon which meant that we put it off since we’re totally responsible like that. Then the tooth that she was born with went MIA.

The hummingbird doesn’t really let us get near her mouth and since keeping my fingers is really important to me, I have to get creative and tickle her while holding her upside down or make animal sounds so she’ll mimic me and that’s when I was able to have .002 seconds to look in her mouth and see that nope, that tooth wasn’t there.

Since I am now a not at all total professional when it comes to taking my daughter to the dentist, here are my not at all professional thoughts and insights (?) when it comes to dealing with kids and dentistry.

If you follow these 30 really long steps, you too can be a not at all professional when it comes to taking your toddler to the dentist.

1. Have your husband make the dentist appointment. Soon your darling little girl (or boy) will be an angsty tween/teen who blames you for all of their problems. It will come in handy to be able to say You may be mad at me for embarrassing you in front of your friends by dropping you off at school in my pajamas BUT your father is the one that made your first dentist appointment.

2. The night after your husband has made the appointment, while you try to get your 2-year-old to brush their teeth, you’ll be thinking I am so glad I’m not a pediatric dentist because they are screwed.

3. You will also start thinking Oh my gawd, my baby is going to the dentist and she will never forgive me.

4. Then you’ll be thinking how she freaked out when it came to taking her to see the Easter Bunny and get all panicky with thoughts of going to the dentist and finding out they have a thing for bunnies.

5. When you and your husband are in bed later that night, you’ll make the mistake of telling him about the dentist having a bunny themed office as well as saying Oh my gawd, my baby is going to the dentist and she will never forgive me.

6. He’ll then ask if you have any anti-anxiety meds left and if you do you should take one. Then he’ll say our little girl is only going to the dentist and it’s unlikely they’ll have a bunny theme, particularly creepy Easter Bunnies.

7. You normally check on your sleeping daughter a few hundred times a night but you add another hundred because not only is your child at their cutest when they’re finally sleeping after a 2 hour bedtime battle, you think Oh my gawd, my baby is going to the dentist and she will never forgive me.

8. After going back to your bedroom, you find that your husband has also become so worried about it and that’s why he’s asleep.

9. You start thinking how worried you were when you took your little one to your hairdresser for their first haircut and even though you prepared for the worst, your child didn’t freak out at all and did really well because she liked your hairdresser.

10. You then start thinking that even though your hairdresser moved hours away down to San Diego, maybe she does dentistry on the side but she just didn’t get a chance to tell you about it because the two of you were too consumed with talking about crazy in-laws and celebrity gossip.

11. You kick your husband in the leg for snoring because he ripped the mask from his CPAP machine off his face. Finally you go to sleep and dream about you and Mark Ruffalo in Hawaii.

12. Hold on a minute….still dreaming.

13. You wake up the day of THE appointment and you have those first few blissful minutes where you don’t worry about anything. Then it hits you and you think f#@!.

14. You get your daughter out of bed and find that she Houdini’d her way out of her footie pajamas and her diaper. She’s sitting in her crib buck naked with the biggest smile on her face.

15. Since you feel so guilty and are pretty sure your little girl will freak out at the dentist, you let her watch as much Caillou as possible, hoping she won’t notice that you’re stressing.

16. While your child is in their Caillou or other completely annoying kids show trance, you decide this is the perfect time to get a quick shower.

17. When walking out of the bathroom, you see that your child is buck naked on your bed watching Caillou and starts laughing when she sees you laughing. You try not to laugh too hard since you’re just wearing a towel and don’t want to pee yourself. There’s no time to take another quick shower and you don’t want to go to the dentist smelling like pee but if you have to end up doing that, blame it on your 2-year-old and just say they had a leaky diaper.

Also check to see if your daughter peed the bed. You just washed the sheets and blankets the day before and feel relieved that she didn’t relieve herself on the bed because the last thing you want to do is wash everything again.

18. Have your husband go with you to the pediatric dentist because Oh my gawd, my baby is going to the dentist and she will never forgive me.

19. On the way there you start freaking out and your hubby suggests once you get to the dentist, maybe it would be better if you stay in the waiting room or better yet, the car.

20. Give him the look of death and remind him since you’re sure he’s forgotten that Oh my gawd, my baby is going to the dentist and she will never forgive me and I have to be with her.

21. Start trying to get out of taking your little one to the dentist. You see a few Mexican restaurants and suggest going there instead. You can get your 2-year-old a crunchy taco and you rationalize to your husband that having her eat the hard taco shell would be just as good for her teeth as whatever the dentist is going to do.

22. Your hubby gives you the your crazy look and you’re pretty sure he’ll tie you up and lock you in the car so you don’t scare the other patients at the possibly bunny themed dentist office.

23. When he’s only halfway pulled into the parking space, hop out of the car so you can screw up his plans.

24. While you’re in the waiting room, give your hummingbird as many hugs and kisses as they’ll allow. Feel some relief that you don’t see anything having to do with bunnies so far.

25. After waiting for what seems like forever, you’re called back and think f*ck, here we go.

26. You were worried that the dentist wouldn’t be able to get your little hummingbird’s mouth open. Your little one ends up screaming their head off so the dentist is able to get a good look at their teeth. It absolutely kills you to see your little babe scared and screaming so while your hubby holds your little girl, you go over and sit down in a chair before you faint.

27. Finally the torture for the both of you is over and the dentist is really awesome with your little girl. You wish she did adult dentistry and tell your hubby later that you wish she could be your primary doctor. The dentist lets you know that the tooth your baby was born with is definitely gone but other than that, everything looks fine.

She asks if you floss your 2-year-old’s teeth and both you and your hubby laugh out loud and then realize she’s being serious. You give her a smile and tell her you’ll try in a few years and after you can get your toddler to brush their teeth without having them throw their toothbrush across the bathroom every time.

28. You leave the dentist and want to spoil your poor little girl who still has tears in her eyes.

29. You don’t normally let her have much sugar but decide going to get a cookies and cream milkshake is in order. You and your hubby will be drinking most of it anyway.

30. On the way home, mention to your hubby again about stopping to get some crunchy tacos so the hummingbird can clean her teeth with the hard taco shell after the milkshake. Plus you’re really craving tacos but your hubby doesn’t stop buttmunch.

Happy brushing!

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Butt Seriously!

My brain hasn’t been working this week. It’s on strike. The little hummingbird has been back to battling bedtime and I’m exhausted so when I attempt to write, it ends up being like what you’re reading now. 

I tried a new approach with her a few weeks ago. It’s something I just pulled out of my ass one night. I’ve found that that’s what parenting is mostly about. You pull something out of your ass and hope it works. If not, you keep pulling things out of your ass.

Like my underwear. Maybe my ass is telling me it’s time for new underwear. Or it’s telling me to stop eating those peanut butter filled pretzels late at night.

What I started doing was taking the hummingbird around her room so she can say goodnight to her things, hoping that her room doesn’t seem as scary to her. We look out the window and I say goodnight outside, we’ll see you tomorrow and she waves goodbye, then we do that with some other things in her room.

It seemed to work and my hubby and I were thinking Yay! but she’s over it and so it’s been taking us 2-3 hours to get her to bed again. After she goes to bed, it’s really my only time to blog and reply to comments but it’s hard to do anything when she’s screaming bloody murder. My brain melts.

My hubby and I don’t run to her with each whimper but I wouldn’t say we let her cry it out either. It’s somewhere in the middle. I know her cries really well, which is something I didn’t quite get pre-hummingbird when I would hear people say they know their kids cries, and if she’s doing her I want to party all night and I’m pissed that you put me to bed cry, I let her know I’m still here and give her MWAH kisses outside her room.

Anyway, since my brain is on strike this week, I’m pulling this post out of my ass. I hope I don’t end up pulling a rabbit out of there.

July 2nd is my 1 year blogoversary and I will probably celebrate by writing a rambling post. Much like this one, just without so much ‘ass’ in it. I know after I put up this post, I’ll regret it because I’ll have pervy people looking up all kinds of ass things and finding my blog.

Less than a week after my blogoversary, it’s my 16 year wedding anniversary. People have been asking what my hubby and I have planned. If we have any time to actually do something, I’m going to sleep. And I don’t mean put the hummingbird in her crib along with some toys so mommy and daddy can go in the bedroom and shut the door “sleep”, it will be sleep sleep. Maybe I’ll wear my fancy pajama boxers that night, the ones without the holes in them. I’ll be all kinds of snazzy.

My MIL’s birthday is also coming up. To get her back for the way she acts towards me, I like getting her funny cards that I know she doesn’t like and makes her cringe. I usually take more time to choose a cringeworthy card for her but found one last month that I thought would get the job done. Luckily, it doesn’t take much to offend her which I find ironic seeing as how she usually offends everyone she comes across.

This is something we got in the mail yesterday. It was addressed to my father-in-law and I don’t know why it was sent to us. Since my hubby and I are rebels, we illegally opened up my FIL’s junk mail. I know, we’re totally wild! My husband was being a smartass and was saying we should forward this to his dad and I told him noooo, this is something he doesn’t need to see. Then when I was telling my mom about this, she said she gets one of these at least once a year. Wha?

So, this is the kind of mail we have to look forward to when we get older.

When my hubby opened it and read the letter, he found you have to enter to win a cremation. Uh….yay??

Here’s my mother-in-law’s birthday card that I know she will absolutely hate love.

Butt seriously (heh), I have so much stuff floating around in my head and hope my brain starts working soon so I can write it down.

I hope everyone has a great weekend. MWAH!

Comments { 14 }

What I didn’t expect after expecting. Alternate title: Holy Hell! Jebus criminy on a cracker!!

This has been sitting in my draft file for a few months because I keep on thinking of things to add. I could literally go on and on & write a book on this but tried to keep this kind of short, for me anyway.

I was told of things that would happen after I had a baby but in a vague way and of course I didn’t think some of this stuff would happen to me. Yes, you’re right. I’m a dumbass.

I talk about blood, pee, and poop so you should stop reading now if you’re super squeamish and would like to keep down that yummy meal you just had.

I’m just assuming you had a yummy meal. If it wasn’t yummy and you possibly have food poisoning and think dry heaving and possibly throwing up would make you feel better, then go ahead and read on. If you’re not sure that you’re ready to have kids then reading this will be perfect birth control.

Screw what to expect. Expect the unexpected.

No matter what anyone tells you will happen after you have a baby, including me, it might not happen to you. You just never know what to expect with a baby. Your cute little squishy babe grows so fast and changes so much that it can be hard to keep up.

There were so many things I had planned on once my daughter was born and with most of the things, I’ve gone the other way. Like television.

I had planned on not having her watch very much television but now that she’s 2, if I want to get anything done (a shower, scarfing down lunch before she sees me eating and ends up eating all of it even though she didn’t want much of her lunch…) I let her watch her favorite show along with a few others that she likes. I’m still in no way guaranteed to be able to get things done but since my little girl doesn’t always nap, it can guarantee some of my sanity.

Being a parent is harder than I thought it would be. There are times when my little girl will be throwing a tantrum and just when I think Calgon, take me away she’ll all of a sudden do something so cute that it makes my heart melt. But other times I can be counting down the minutes until my hubby gets home so I can hand her off to him and I can have a breather.

Lack of bladder control.

When I was pregnant (and way before that) I read about kegel exercises. Since I had to pee constantly while I was pregnant, the last thing I wanted to do were kegel’s.

I used to think only women who gave birth vaginally had problems with bladder control. Silly me. I pee myself when I cough, sneeze, laugh, and breathe although it’s not all the time.

Sometimes I’ll think I’m safe after I sneeze and then I’m thinking ha ha bladder, I won this round but it gets back at me a few minutes later. Usually when it happens I’ll say Ohhhh! and my hubby will be like you peed yourself didn’t you? and as I’m running up the stairs I’ll say yep and by the way, you’re having the next baby.

There will be blood. And look! More blood, and more, and more.

I thought how awesome it was that I didn’t have my period for several months but don’t be fooled. Not only do you get all of the periods you’ve missed at the same time, you get more for good measure. I was bleeding for weeks and had to wear diaper sized pads.

Mesh panties.

I had no idea these existed, just like the perineal bottle. I’m sure the look of What the f*ck?! I had was pretty obvious when the nurse handed me both. The hospital gave me mesh underwear along with huge pads that looked like they were made for the Jolly Green Giant. I have to admit, it took a few days but I started to like the mesh underwear, especially since my own would bother my cesarean incision. I even asked for a few more to bring home.

The first postpartum poo.

I wasn’t able to experience a vaginal birth since I had an emergency c-section but 3 days later I felt what it was like to give birth…out of my ass. Oh My Gawd! I was given stool softeners and took them but didn’t think it would be that bad.

There was a hand rail by the toilet in my hospital room and I thought it was there for help getting up. Nope. That hand rail is there so you can hold on for dear life while you have the poo that has come from the depths of hell.

Just a tip. Before you leave the hospital, steal bring home everything that isn’t bolted down.

I took a few of the waterproof pads they had on my hospital bed and some of the towels. Get my towels and bed all bloody? I think not. I know there were other things I brought home but I just can’t remember. Oh, that’s another wonderful thing about mommyhood. Mommy Brain. woo hoo!

When my daughter came home, we took the diapers, wipes, etc. The nurse we had actually went and got a new pack of diapers for us since the little hummingbird only had a few left in her NICU cart. Our nurse was helping us stock up on other freebies as well. I also grabbed a few of the drink pitchers I had used since they were perfect when it came to warming up bottles.

Just breathe.

As much as we wanted to bring our daughter home from the NICU, it was also terrifying. We were the ones responsible for this tiny person. I remember the first or second night after she came home. The swaddling blankets we got weren’t even capable of wrapping up a chipmunk and our little girl was only about 8 pounds at the time.

So my hubby went out to find bigger blankets and it was the first time I was alone with my daughter.

While my husband was gone, I gave her a bottle and everything was smooth sailing at that point. Then she threw up all over me and the couch. She also had a diaper blowout. There were tears on my part because I felt like I wasn’t doing anything right. Then I kept telling myself that my daughter doesn’t know I’m not doing everything perfect and I became more calm-ish. Don’t get me wrong, I still sent frantic texts to my husband to hurry the hell up.

*Quick sidenote. I discovered Aden & Anais blankets around her first birthday and my daughter LOVES them. We have to make sure to bring one with us wherever we go. They are pricey but so worth it.

Pregnancy weight and recovery.

Unless your name is Miranda Kerr or Gisele ‘I made pancakes and washed dishes shortly after giving birth, a birth that wasn’t painful, not even a little bit’ Bündchen *eyeroll*, try not to stress about your weight after having a baby. The weight will come off eventually and if it doesn’t, remember that your body went through a lot.

It’s the same with recovery and exercising. You might see women who’ve just had a baby a week before, jogging around the neighborhood but it’s fine if your thinking hell to the no and of course if you’ve had a c-section, you have to wait anyway. Recovery is different for everyone. Enjoy your crying, poopy, pukey, will not sleep for more than a few hours at a time, what the hell?! I’m going to die of sleep deprivation, baby. Yay!

Postpartum feelings.

It took me almost 14 years to have a baby it’s more like 13 but you know how I feel about that number (that’s for another post) and I thought everything would be like a diaper commercial. All smiley and happy. It’s not. Unless you’re a robot but robots can’t have babies. I don’t think.

There wasn’t any doubt that I loved my little girl and I had waited so long to have her. But the hormones were swirling around, here was this new little person in our lives, and my hubby and I were beyond exhausted. There were times, especially in the early months, when I would think What did I get myself into? or This wasn’t exactly what I was expecting.

I would hear people with newborns saying how it’s such an amazing time and everything’s great and so easy. I would end up feeling like an awful new mom because I didn’t always think it was rainbows and butterflies. In hindsight, I think my feelings were normal.

Don’t feel pressured when it comes to how you want to raise your child. We might have different ways we want to do it but we want the same outcome. To raise our tiny dictators as best as we can and have them know how much we love them no matter what.

I don’t think there’s a wrong way when it comes to raising kids and how you go about it. There will always be people who judge but just tune them out.

I wanted to breastfeed more than anything but it didn’t work out like I hoped so instead I pumped like a maniac. I beat myself up for not being able to breastfeed and felt bad because I had very little milk coming in but honestly, looking back now, I wish I would have just spent that time with my daughter soaking in all her sweet babyness (totally a word) instead of being hooked up to a pump several times a day.

I started cloth diapering her around her first birthday but lately we haven’t been doing it as often. I don’t know why since it’s so much easier than I thought it would be. I love cloth diapering. I was feeling bad about it but my hubby and I are doing what works for us.

Last but not least….

You will freak out about every little thing and that’s normal. There will be times when you’re not freaking out and then you’ll freak out for not freaking out.

Pretty self-explanatory. 

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Too cool for preschool.

I put this photo on Twitter last weekend but here it is again. What? I’m recycling.

The germaphobe in me got out the antibacterial wipes so I could scrub that sucker down before the little hummingbird hopped in.

When I say I scrubbed it down, I mean my hubby did.

What? He’s the one who had the wipes in his pocket and I was too busy chasing the hummingbird.

You could say I was a backseat driver bwaahaha when it came to making sure my hubby wiped down every nook and cranny.

The hummingbird loves cars, especially because of The Wiggles ‘Big Red Car’, and couldn’t wait to get in.

She lasted about 30 seconds and then she wanted outta there.

I dread the day when she’s old enough to start driving. It’s not so much the driving part, it’s that she’ll be 16 but I know my mom will be laughing her ass off because karma’s a bitch.

When I think of the things I did when I was 16, I want to ground myself until I’m 40.

I was living in Los Angeles, had very little supervision from my sperm donor, and loved going to clubs on Sunset Strip in West Hollywood.

Come to think of it, I should ground myself until I’m 60.


The little hummingbird loves to walk around in her rainboots while wearing her footie pajamas in the morning.

For several months I’ve been trying to get a picture but like the elusive Bigfoot, I could never get one of the hummingbird before she ran off. Until this morning.

My daughter wasn’t very happy because she wanted to go downstairs to watch Caillou and mean mommy made her take a picture first.

Comments { 8 }

What do my mom, a pickaxe, pedicures, and a kitty have in common? I really have no idea.

I was talking to my mom recently and she told me that she had just gotten a pedicure.

When I was younger I would try to do my own nails but I’ll try to cut all of my cuticles and hangnails and I just make things worse. There’s usually blood and pain involved as well as some fuck’s sprinkled in.

So I would think to myself screw it, just go to a nail salon. My nails can be pretty for awhile and I feel RAWR sexaay when my toenails are painted a deep red color.

I got my mom into getting pedicures and whenever she visits, we make time to do that together.

Post-humminbird, I get a pedicure once or twice a year if I’m lucky and my mom goes every month. At first I had to talk her into getting it done because she deserves getting pampered but she would say oh, that’s okay. I don’t need to go but now I’ve created a pedicure monster kidding.

Pre-hummingbird, I didn’t get them that often but since I only had a cat and as long as I got her permission not really (she was very demanding), she was fine with letting me get one if I gave her extra catnip and I would have to agree to let her paw me to death when she was trying to get comfortable on the couch or the bed.

She would paw and paw and paw and I would think just lay the hell down already because when you’re pawing me in the same place for several minutes, it freaking starts to hurt kitty. If I moved a muscle, the whole process would start all over again.

Sometimes after all that pawing, my cat would decide I wasn’t good enough and just hop off.

Nuh Uh! Are you kidding me, kitty?!

Um, Anway….

Around my mid 20’s, I started to feel like the roles between my mom and I reversed.

It’s hard to explain but I’ve gotten more maternal with my mom. I’m sure I’m not the only one that has gone through this role reversal. She’s protective, maternal, and wants what’s best for me and I’m the same with her. So, I guess it’s not really a reversal but it’s early in the morning and I can’t think of a better word to use.

It’s not that she isn’t capable of taking care of herself, she can kick ass, but sometimes I find myself telling her things she used to tell me when I was younger and she’ll say okaaay mom. Kids these days! What are you gonna do?

When my mom was telling me about her pedicure, she said the person doing it accidentally cut the side of her big toe. Then she told me how her big toenail is half dead and the nail tech cut it as short as possible. Being that our roles have reversed, I’ve been trying to convince her to go to the doctor.

Me: Why is your toenail half dead?

My mom: I hit my toe with a pickaxe*.

Me: *picturing my mom dismembering bodies* Why in the hell were you using a pickaxe?

Mom: I was trying to start a garden. *Obviously I don’t really garden but now I want to if I can use a weapon like a pickaxe. I’ll just be sure to wear steel toe boots*

Me: Well, shouldn’t you be aiming for the ground and not your foot? (I get my smartassyness from my mom and I mean that in the best way).

Mom: I was trying to but I was wearing flip-flops and wacked my big toe with the pickaxe.

Me: What?! You were gardening and thought it would be a good idea to swing around a sharp object while wearing flip-flops?

Mom: I know, it was stupid.

Me: Why don’t you go to a doctor? It doesn’t seem right that your toenail isn’t healing and keeps on getting nasty at a certain point. I thought with something like that happening, your nail would’ve fallen off. *shivers* *gags*

Mom: I did see my doctor and they were surprised it didn’t fall off too. They cut it down as much as they could and said it would take some time to heal.

Me: Well, when did you see your doctor about this because maybe you should get it checked out again?

Mom: Hmmm….let me see…it was about 3 or 4 years ago.

Me: WAIT, WHAT?!!!!

Mom: What?

Me: MOM! 3 or 4 years is a long ass time. You need to go again because something’s not right.

Mom: Yeah but I think it needs some more time to heal.

Me: WHAT?! It’s been plenty of time. What if your toe ends up falling off? Then you’ll wish you didn’t wait to see a doctor again.

Mom: My toe isn’t going to fall off.

Me: You never know. Or what if your half dead toenail is a zombie and tries to kill you and then it goes around killing other people? You will have caused killer zombie toenails.

Mom: If my half dead toenail ends up being a zombie and tries to kill me, I have a pickaxe to protect myself.

So what do you think? Should my mom get her zombie toenail looked at again before it causes a zombie toenail apocalypse?

*I thought it was spelled pickax but Google got up in my face and was like, well didn’t you mean “pickaxe”. Fine hoity-toity Google, I’ll spell it your way, you punkass. Google also had to brag and be all pretentious that they found “pickax” in about 430,000 results (0.28 seconds). Google, I wouldn’t brag about being so fast if you get my meaning.

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The time when my in-laws invited themselves to my sister’s wedding and she wanted to kill me and then my mom ended up wanting to kill them only 2 hours after being in their presence.

After writing my recent post about my in-laws, it reminded me of my in-laws coming to my sister’s wedding.  It also made me think of how my mother-in-law ruined my own wedding but I’ll write that novel some other time.

When I went back to read this post, my in-laws didn’t seem as bad as what they’re really like. Also, my mom was telling me less than an hour ago that she keeps checking her email for my sister’s wedding post and asked me what the deal was so I had to rush this. I told her I was taking a break and she was like What do you mean?….You can’t stop blogging!…. Are you quitting your blog?!…You can’t do that!

I said No mom, I just wanted a little break. It’s only been 2 days since my last post. Don’t worry.

I have no idea where in the world I get my high anxiety genes come from. ;^)

Okay, so let’s get down to business.

My in-laws live about 6 hours from my sister and stepdad. My stepdad isn’t technically my stepdad anymore since my mom and him are no longer together.

I still call him my dad but it’s all confusing and I would need to write another post that would involve some Melrose Place shit because I’d have to include my sperm donor. My mom moved away but now she’s back in the same area as my sister and stepdad.

Since I worry that my in-laws will somehow find my blog, which is why I don’t use my hubby and daughter’s real names here although I sometimes do when I comment on other blogs, I don’t want to write the state where they live so instead I’ll just say they live where President Kennedy was shot.

No, not the exact location…smartass. heh. It’s not like they have a tent set up on the grassy knoll but I could see them doing something weird like that. My family lives in a different state but it’s still close seeing as how it’s only a 6 hour drive.

I can’t remember exactly what my sister said when I told her the in-laws wanted to go to her wedding but it was a good thing I asked her over the phone. After asking her and talking a bit, my sister finally and very reluctantly said they could come.

It was pretty much like What the @$#%! There’s no way I want those $%^&$#@ #$%@! at my $#@!%#$ wedding. Ugh! #$%$#@# fine. They can %^$#@#! come as long as I don’t see that much of their $%^&#$% faces. %#!$%$#@ thanks a lot, sis.

As you can see, my sister took it pretty well. Since I’m not using my sister’s real name, I had asked her what she wants me to use when I told her I’m writing this and she told me Alotta Fagina. So, there you go sis. Now get a damn computer so you can read this.

My husband and I were living in Southern California back then and he was stationed in San Diego. Maybe my common sense doesn’t have any sense to it but because we were going to Alotta Fagina’s wedding *giggles*, we were flying from San Diego to where my sister lived the day before the wedding. As usual my in-laws made it so much more fucking complicated than it needed to be.

My hubby was being deployed soon and at first we didn’t even know if he would be able to go because he was on a ship and had a lot to do at work to prepare for deployment since he was the Supply Officer. The wedding was on a Saturday and he worked his ass off so he could get off on Friday so we could fly out.

The in-laws had assumed we were flying from SD to where they lived and planned to have the four of us drive those 6 hours together. I’ve been in a car with them for several hours before, the whole time thinking Help Me!, and I would have rather jumped out of a moving car than had to have been inside with them. They also knew that my hubby was in a time crunch but they still wanted us to fly where they live a few days before the wedding.

I get them wanting to spend time with their son but they had just visited us and this whole trip was about going to my sister’s wedding. I know when the little hummingbird grows up NOOOOOO!!!!! and moves away I’ll want to see her every chance I get but if she’s going to the wedding of her husband’s (or wife’s) sibling and even if it’s nearby, I wouldn’t invite myself. My in-laws could give a flying leap about my sister’s wedding and since that was obvious, it made me feel stabby.

They did this same kind of thing last summer when we were moving from the D.C. area to Northern California and I got a chance to see my stepdad and sister, along with her kids (you can read about that here). I hadn’t seen them in over 3 years but my in-laws, that had recently visited us for the hummingbird’s first birthday, invited themselves. They have a lot of time to go wherever they want and the means to do so but my family doesn’t so it sucks that they do this.

I think the in-laws emailed the plans for us to fly down to see them for a few days and my hubby had to call them for the eleventy billionth time to tell them we can’t do that. It’s so hard for him to say no to them because he doesn’t want to hurt their feelings but he reminded them that we’re just flying from SD straight to where my sister lives.

That’s when one of them suggested us flying out Thursday night to where they live, after my hubby spent a tiresome day at work. I thought you’ve gotta be kidding me?! They really don’t get it even if you spell it out for them. Finally my hubby had to be firm with them and said we’ll meet them at the hotel on Friday before Alotta Fagina’s rehearsal dinner.

After dealing with all of the phone calls and emails because they kept on pressuring us to visit them before the wedding, I was emotionally exhausted. My hubby and I flew out on Friday and met the in-laws at the hotel. It was an hour or so before the dinner and I just wanted to relax and watch some hotel room porn television but they wanted to go see the sights. Uhh, there really isn’t anything to see where my sister lives.

She doesn’t live in Footloose, USA anymore and lives in an even smaller town with just a few hundred people. The “big” city nearby isn’t that big but the in-laws insisted on going out to see the sights which pretty much meant looking at fields of grass and cows. From the start my mother-in-law had an attitude with me. She always seems to think if my hubby disagrees with her, like he did when it came to this whole trip, it’s because of me which isn’t true.

My MIL knew that I didn’t know much about the area where we were but she kept on treating me like I was their tour guide and would get pissy because I wouldn’t know where things were.

By the time we got to the restaurant for the rehearsal dinner, I was so done with my in-laws and looked forward to being around other people. With the exception of my mom, sister, stepdad, and the groom, I didn’t know anyone else at the dinner. I’m painfully shy around strangers but once I get to know someone I never shut the hell up so I was mostly listening to others in the group, about 15 or so people and that’s just a guesstimate.

My MIL expected me to introduce her to everyone but I didn’t know who they were so she got even more pissy with me. After dinner, everyone was out in the parking lot talking with each other and some were thinking about going out somewhere else and there were a few different ideas being tossed around. I didn’t mind where we went, plus I was hoping the in-laws wouldn’t want to go.

Everyone was standing around together, talking and having a good time. That’s when my mother-in-law turned to me and said Well, don’t just stand there being useless and tell us what we’re going to do.

The group went quiet and looked at us. You could hear a pin drop and I could tell people were like WTF? I don’t remember what I said but I know I was so much nicer to her than what she deserved. I think I just asked her what would she like to do.

My MIL countinued to be bitchy to me in front of everyone. I felt humiliated and was so embarrassed. I know she should have been the one who was embarrassed by her behavior but that will never happen.

I ended up just going back to the hotel instead of with the others, hoping to decompress but naturally my in-laws wanted to hang out in our hotel room. The next day my in-laws wanted to get up bright and early to see more of the non-existent sights in the area and they insisted my hubby go along. I was annoyed because I wanted my husband to be with me and my family before the wedding since that’s what we had planned.

My mom picked me up at the hotel and she was furious with my MIL, like wanting to rip her head off furious. She told me that she was shocked and so were the others in the group about the way my MIL talked to me. My FIL and hubby don’t usually seem to notice her behavior and I think it’s because they’re just so used to it. I’ve been dealing with her for 16 years but I’ll never be used to it.

I wasn’t around for this but my sister told me that my in-laws came up to her and her new hubby after the ceremony to congratulate them. The problem? Alotta Fagina was talking to her hubby’s friend and the in-laws didn’t know that wasn’t her hubby. Another thing my sister told me is something my MIL did to her hubs.

At the reception there was the wedding cake but Alotta’s hubby really wanted a chocolate cream pie that his grandmother made for him. He was trying to get to the pie before it was all gone and he was able to get the last piece. As he was walking back to the table, my MIL walked right up to him and said that’s my piece, right? then took his plate from him before he could say anything.

It’s safe to say they ended up pissing off plenty of people that weekend with their antics. It’s really more of my mother-in-law but my FIL can make people crazy with his endless conversations that are usually one-sided. I think people who’ve been raised by wolves have better manners than my mother-in-law.

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