Hypocrisy

Like that overly dramatic title?
I think I should probably post something since I have been absent this week and we are going to be having some serious family time this weekend (soexcitedicanhardlybreathe) and I therefore will not be enjoying any extended Internet time to be sure.

You see, the reason that I haven't posted much, if anything, this week is that it has been one of those weeks where I am fairly convinced that I am the worst wife/mother/women/Christian/all around person on the face of the earth. Like a"a Pandora's box of all the secret, hateful parts - your arrogance, your spite, your condescension - has sprung open?"You've Got Mail Quote? Anyone? No? Sorry (one day I will do an entire post dedicated to that movie, it is my all time fav)

Anyways, you've had one of those weeks, right? Gosh I hope so. Or I hope not, for your sake, but I would like to think that I am not crazy.
If you haven't here are some various glimpses into the life of someone who has: 

•  I was out for like the 3rd evening this week for another something or other I had committed to, leaving Mike at home alone. I get home, walk in the door exhausted (sure that I am the most tired person on earth and no one could have it as bad as me) announce that I am home, plop down on the couch and check my email. No kiss hello, no "how was your evening" Nope, just jerk.
• A semi-potty trained 2--year-old finally makes it to the potty before peeing in her pants, pulls them down, does a semi-squat over the potty, misses and pees ALL over the floor, like old faithful. Instead of commending her for at least making it there and sucking up the enormous amount of urine to be cleaned, I freak out, like really freak out. Like a toddler. 
• The primary means of communication in the house during the day has been yelling, by me. Great.
• The one-year-old shoves a rag in the toilet and it and I yell. At the one-year-old.
• Did I mention yelling?
• Ok I will stop confessing, but there was more, much, much more.

 The saving grace of this week has been my rock star husband and confession this morning, probably in reverse order. So now I feel like I can blog without being a total hypocrite. I never want to blog on days when I am a jerk because I never want to give the impression that I have it even close to all together. 
Don't get me wrong. I have bad days a lot and I still post things. I guess it was more the total lack of virtue displayed by the mother who is supposed to be a good Catholic stay-at-home mom and the crushing feeling of guilt I had by the end of each day that made it impossible for me to even fake it even a little bit.

Don't worry, I am ok, everything is going great. I never discount the effect of the insane hormone component that we females are always dealing with and so I blame a lot on that. 

But overall I am just human and oh so very weak and wounded. And I take the things that are the absolute greatest gifts God has given me on earth for granted. 

How that is even possible, I do not know.
I will be done now with this rant. Have a fabulous weekend and an even better coming week!!

Morning regretfuls

Dear Friday,
I really thought you were supposed to be better. At some point in my life I looked so forward to you during the week and it did not matter how you actually went, you lead to the weekend and that was enough.
Not anymore.

Picture completely irrelevant- but from a time in my life when Fridays went much better because I was probably a better person. YES, I am pretending to be a nun outside of the Vatican.

Things I wish I could take back/change about this morning:

1) The hour of waking- you would think that I would get used to being awakened during the 6 a.m. hour after having that be the norm  for almost 3 years now, but I have not. I still dream of sleeping later every. single. morning.

2) The poop, oh the poop. First round at 6:30- changed diaper, laid child back down and told her to sleep until her cow woke up. Before the cow woke, I heard her going "Yuck, yuck!" and I knew it would be bad. I walked in to find foot shaped poop marks all over her floor. I really thought that potty training was supposed to put an end to this, but potty training has disappointed me in every other way possible, so I am not surprised I guess.

3) The urine soaked sleeper I left on the KITCHEN counter for like, 10 minutes. Gross

4) My bad, bitter attitude towards Naomi for pooping all over the floor like a poorly trained animal instead of in the toilet like a civilized person.

5) My bad, bitter attitude toward my dear husband for sleeping later than me, even though he was up for hours after me working hard.

6) My current state of sulking (still quite bitterly) over how stinking tired I am.

7) The fact that every time I have sat down to do my version of "praying" I am screamed at by a small person demanding something from me like "juice!" "pancakes!" "smoothie!", which is my excuse for being such a bitter, bad person this morning.

We'll try again tomorrow, or now, that would probably be better.

Bad decision

Another doozie of a Saturday here. Do you ever feel like your days are full of a string of really bad little decisions? I do. I feel like most of my days are full of me saying "I really shouldn't have done that".
"I really shouldn't have gotten the short hair cut that now makes me look like a little boy"

Little boy hair and shirt!!!

"I shouldn't have left the house without an extra pair of pants for Naomi"
"I shouldn't have gone to the library without an extra pair of pants for Naomi" (As I run out of the lobby with her yelling that she peed her pants"
"I shouldn't be blogging, but rather cleaning my disgusting house"
"I shouldn't have eaten 4 Reese's cups"
"I probably shouldn't let the girls eat an entire box of raisins"
(During diaper changes) "I definitely shouldn't have let the girls eat the entire box of raisins"
"I should not have tried to make up my own recipe for dinner, this is the worst tasting thing ever"
"I shouldn't be letting Naomi watch 3 movies today"
"I shouldn't eat 1/2 bag of skittles right before bed"



 Since most of my decisions are informed by my own knowledge and experience in life and as a wife and a mother, they are generally bad since I have next to no knowledge or experience as a wife and mother. It makes you wonder why they let just anybody get married and bear children.
I take comfort in knowing that even if Mike has no idea what he is doing, he is always much more confident than me and almost always makes much better decisions, and there the balance lies! I feel sure so far that 3 very good decisions (maybe the only good ones?) made thus far have been: Mike, Naomi and Bernadette, so at least I can do something right. Hopefully when I am in my 50s looking back I will notice that exponentially my terrible decisions decreased daily and that I am now perfect.

Very good

Husband: good decision. Hair: BAAADD decision

Happy decision making
Ana

Monday, Monday

When your morning goes a little something like this: greeted immediately with a diaper full of what could most likely definitely pass as toxic waste, followed by 2 accidents resulting in urine soaked cushons requiring an emergency load of laundry needing to be done post haste, compounded by a fussy early-awoken baby who will not let you put her down and an even fussier toddler who will not stop screaming NO! at you and then throwing tantrum, after tantrum, after tantrum, and then culminating in a deluge of rain pouring right as I have finally gotten the children loaded into the car to take them for your weekly grocery trip- yes I chose today- and mind you tears have been shed by ALL partied by this point. Well when your morning goes like this, your groceries look a little something like this:

5 donuts: 1 for each child, 1 for me, 1 for Mike and the security donut, I always buy a security donut

fitting that they are in the same bag

coping mechanisms

And your children look a little something like this

I am glad to say that all parties are now happy, thanks to the donuts that provided me with this opportunity to vent and the promise of liquor and ladies night this evening.

Tomorrow will be a happier post, full of flowers and blessings being counted, I promise

Until then, happy Monday,
Ana

Sunday, Sunday

Sunday Mass with a newly potty trained child was like going to Mass with an mildly intelligent monkey. I love my girls, really I do. I don't know why I keep comparing them to monkeys... I will get back to you on that.

I spent 1/2 the Mass in the bathroom stall with her, and the other half holding the nearly 40 pounder in the cry room since I did not want to reward her for telling me she had to go when she very clearly did not- and the cry room is the reward of all rewards. 

I have honestly never left Mass genuinely wanting a stiff drink until today. The 3 plus sides were as follows:

a) it was MASS 

b) I had actually already prepared our after-Mass brunch the day before so there was no worrying about what on earth I was going to fill my famished belly with and those of my loved ones, and

c) I really liked my outfit- vain and self-centered (maybe that's why I stink at dealing well with frustrating situations like today's, let's hope God was able to do something good with me just being there.) 

There is no way I would have gotten through it had my valiant knight of a husband not come to my aid in the morning hours to let me sleep (after staying up too late finishing season 2 of the best show ever also self centered, but at least he was in it with me). Enough, I am done.

Again, happy Sunday!

-Ana

Baby date

Yesterday, Mike took Naomi for the morning and potty trained her. I have officially named him the "pee whisperer" because he is straight up amazing.
Since he took this on himself, I got to have the entire morning with Bernadette and it was lovely. We went to Panera for the breakfast, took a jaunt around Aldi and finally ended the date with a trip to the mall to retrieve aforementioned jeans and then some time at the same mentioned play place.

It truly was a lovely morning and I think that Bernadette especially loved it because this morning I was awakened at the ripe hour of 6:30 (after already having been up at 3 and 5, lest you think I am not enough of a martyr) just so that we could have another date.
She was being so sweet and fun and as soon as I stopped stewing over why she would wake up this early TODAY of ALL days, I actually had another nice little date with her complete with book reading (A rarity) and video taking.

Here is one for your enjoyment:

detox

What do you do when you child wakes up from a nap of less than an hour COVERED in her own excrement and you are the only person you can find to clean it?

Obviously, you clean her off, clean the carpet where the feces was, throw the poo covered pants away and the pull-up that contains almost virtually NOTHING in it. You almost throw up, almost cry, you grit your teeth and take care of the situation and then what?

For me this requires some recovery time. I feel like I deserve something great, a trophy, or plaque or a fantastic alcoholic beverage. But it is not even 4, no one is around to present me with any sort of medal so I decided to set the almost potty-trained child up with a fun activity, make some coffee and down it, and sit and detox via the interweb.

I probably would have run out of the house and down the street screaming SERENITY NOW if my husband did not take on the main part of the potty-training ALL morning beginning around 6 in the a.m. Thank you best husband ever.

Temporarily sane, thank you coffee & husband

There will also be boxed wine drinking and Thai food eating this evening as a reward, much deserved.

Stay poo-free,
Ana