Gaga For Lulu

Picture it……………..

Bridal shop looking for bridesmaid dresses for BFF wedding.

The babe, 2, M3, almost 5, Chubs, 3, and Tiny, 1….and Mommy.

Dresses everywhere.

One kid with pants pulled down and “ghina” showing, screaming, “mommee, I godda peeeee”!

One kid peaking under dressing stall, perv, haha.

One kid rolling around, yelling, “yeyyow, yeyyyooowww”! (the name of is elephant toy that was in car)

And finally one kid who was commenting on the dresses and model in them, “mommy, that dress won’t close in the back, your too big for it, why don’t you have underwear on, look at your purple bra. Oh mommy, you wish you could be a princess like me, don’t you”?

You know what, you little…. “first, I couldn’t find clean undies quick enough this AM, so I went commando, second the dress I am trying on is a size 8, standard model size, my ass, and third, I was a damn princess about 8 years ago when I married your father and before I popped 3 kids out of my crouch in 3 years. So there”!!

No, I didn’t really say that out loud to my daughter, but I wanted to. I just said, “lower your voice, shhh, the whole world doesn’t need to know my business, now hush on up, pleeeaasse”! (with my teeth gritted and a smile on my face)

Oh the fun life we lead!

Ok good news. First, my mom had her knee replaced this AM and it went well, I just talked to her and she is gorked up on Dilaudid, some fine medication! I hope she is nice to those nurses and doesn’t give them a hard time, I told her they would medicate her ass into sleep if she does, just kidding!!!! Second, apparently The Big Guy still has it. A nice lady hit on him at lunchtime, to bad she was 75 +years old. She eyed him up and down and asked what size he wore, and told him he was the best lookin’ guy in the place. By the way, I could see her cataracts they were so thick! Haha.

Funny news now, well actually funny story. I took the younger part of The Tribe and The clan, my 2 nephews, to Costco at lunchtime. I had to return some clothes and The Big Guy met us there for lunch. I know, how freakin’ cute. He would never admit it but he just can’t get enough of me, LOL!!!! Of course I made 3 bathroom breaks, why the hell not. Why can’t they all pee at the same time? So, in the bathroom with The Babe and my oldest nephew, Chub Rock (he is 31/2 and 30 lbs, so not so much chubby!), we had an Anatomy lesson:

The Babe: Screams, “I go pee pee in potty, my ghina go pee pee, it smells, it smell nasty”.

Mommy: “Shh, keep your voice down, we will take a bath when we get home. Make sure you wipe good”.

Chub Rock: Who is now taking his turn, “I go pee pee to, but my pee pee comes out my wienie. See.” To The Babe.

The Babe: Loudly screamimg: “Ooohh, His penish is gross, not like daddy’s (I should hope not), his wienie is white.” I have no idea what the hell she is talking about, my husband is of English decent, but whatever.

Chub Rock: “Aunt Kendra (I should have just told him to be quiet at that point) my wienie is straight in the morning when I get up. It sticks out like this (pulling his poor little doohicky in all directions)”.

Mommy: “Shhh, we will discuss this later (holding back laughter).”

The Babe: “I want a wienie like his, no more ghina (sweet mother of pearl, why me?).”

We come out of the stall and I have 3 older ladies just shaking their heads, I honestly think they were disgusted with me. Like I can control what comes out of the mouths of 2 little snot noses. I so wish The Big Guy would have taken them to the bathroom, he would have had a frickin’ heart attack. Why do us Mommies get all the fun?

Tonight, as I am sitting here contemplating whether or not to eat dinner, I fed The Tribe left overs earlier, I am pondering a plethora of things. Oh dingity dang, what is wrong with my brain that I wonder such questions?

1. Why is my middle boy dog licking my oldest girl dog’s “ghina”?

2. Why does my husband talk in a high pitched, twangy ass voice when imitating one of our dogs (does he know dogs don’t talk)?

3. Why was school cancelled today for 2 inches of snow?

4. Why do my kids get a kick out of Mrs. Crazy, Mean Mommy?

5. Why does The Babe pee while standing in front of the toilet (her little ass is 2 inches away from the toilet)?

6. Why does the circus cost $200 for a family of 5 (thats right, 200 freakin’ dollars)?

7. Why did the cleaning lady that I fired yesterday leave me 2 phone messages to call her today (oh hell no)?

8. Why does M3 make a, “your so damn gross and disgusting, I can’t believe your my mommy face”, every morning while I am getting dressed?

9. Why does “together” time last less than 15 minutes (remember the days…)?

10. Why is my nephew obsessed with my “down there” hair (he came in the bathroom while I was tinkling last week, and I am a red head, he is scarred for life)?

And finally….

10. Why don’t I have a prescription for Xanax?

Oh yeah, Saturday morning in good ol’ Baltimore City! The Big Guy, my sis and I tried to take The Pack to free admission day at the Baltimore Zoo. Well, to make a long story short, after close to two hours in the car we hadn’t even made it off of I-83. Apparently every other parent in the surrounding areas also had the same idea. The Big Guy made an executive decision to keep on going into the city and make a day at the National Aquarium in Baltimore. It was fun. Most importantly, The Babe found Nemo. By the way, The Big Guy was in an awesome mood. I guess that wellbutrin really does work after all!

We hit every bathroom that that the Aquarium had. That’s right, all of them. We took 5 bathroom breaks in 3 and a half hours. And what’s the deal with all the adults there without kids pushing to the front of the glass? I understand we are very fortunate to have so many cool places within driving distance, but you’re twice the height of the kids trying to see the damn fish. Reach your big-ass arm up above their heads and take you digital camera pic. Or at least wait until they get out of the way after getting a good view. The Pack was very patient in waiting, at least we appear to be doing something right.

This would be what my laundry area looked like this morning. The Big Guy just pulls everything out of the dryer to get what he wants. Oh boy, to be a man. Let’s see, he is responsible for taking a crap, getting a shower, hmmm, and that is about it on the weekends. Holy hell is that tough. Don’t worry, he will help me fold it later, I’m not his mommy! Also, we did fire the cleaning lady. I am back on the cleaning wagon. Yeah. The Big Guy did promise to help. I will keep you posted on that one. LOL.

Yes, that is a piece of poop courtesy of the youngest mongrel, Dexi. How would you like to wake up to that almost every morning? Why doesn’t he get it? Is his brain broken? Is he defiant? Or is he just plain dumb? Yup, that one, his brain is the size of a walnut. We would get rid of him but he does make us some money. We stud him, and might I add he is darn good at it. The Big Guy says it is from observing what happens in our bedroom. Ok, that would explain why he was “latched” on quicker than any other dog I have ever seen.

There he is, oh what a freakin’ beauty! You never know, he might just go to “the farm” one day.

This is where Sunday morning got good. Damn right. That is The Babe’s bedroom. I made the mistake of laying in bed for an hour this morning. I was up all night with her. By the way, The Big Guy was on the computer, “taking care” of the kids. Whatever! Does this look like adult supervision?

As I continued down the hallway, I came upon The Tribe. Yes, that is a beanbag on top of the bed. Safety first. We will definitely get parents of the year. At least they are clothed, even though they are in dress ups. The Tribe are going to be nudists. I am so sick of seeing heiney cracks and, as they say, “ghinas”, I could scream. Do they know it is still winter? Who cares? I guess they are free spirits. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, huh?

That damn pile of clothes has been moved, refolded and moved back three times now. I should get a clue and put them away, but that would take effort. Why am I so lazy sometimes? I need to call one of my close friends for a reality check. I need to hear that it is ok to sit down for more than ten minutes and to enjoy the cotton pickin’ day. Phone call to Weezy is now on the list for this morning! Maybe I should go take my wellbutrin. If only there was a magic pill that worked like that, it would be sold out.

The Big Guy nabbed some goodies for this morning. I gave him the choice of cleaning up the mess The Tribe had made or going to Wawa. Guess which he chose? Hey, I am thankful for the cup of joe and sugary, non diabetic, donuts that I shoved in my face. The kitchen island has never looked so appetizing. OMG were the treats so good!

So, I should probably add to my list, take a shower. Why you say. Mommy doesn’t like the greasy, make-up smeared, funky teeth, non bra wearing self that is her in the morning. Yeah, I’m pretty gross. I am such a tomboy, always will be I guess. I am reading one of my guilty pleasures, people magazine. What would life be without the little things? Time to get my big ol’ butt up and do something productive, maybe even wash my face. If I want any chance of getting lovin’ tonight, I need to at least put deodorant on. The Big Guy doesn’t ask for much! LOL.

OMG, I worked in Poopy Paradise yesterday, aka, the hospital. Ok day over all. I did have a demented crazy that decided to dig in his own crap. Try getting that out from under nails. On top of it, he called me “the devil women” and kicked at us most of the day. He was a real gem!

Thank the sweet lord I worked with a great group of back up singers. The Fashionsta, Reds, Va-va-va-Val, were all in top form. Keepin’ it real is always important when you are playing with the patients for twelve hours.

Well, I did have one patient that made me stop dead in my tracks. Thirty seven years old, no kids, no wife, very nice dying man. OMG, why? Bone cancer, all over his body.

As you all are going through your day wiping asses and snotty noses and listening to screamimg demands from the little ones, just keep this in mind. Oh hell, why do I have to reflect? I know, but sometimes it just hits home.

At breakfast, The Boss and M3 were fighting over chairs. The Babe carried around deli ham insisting everyone wanted to eat some and The Clan were fired up. I thought about losing my crackers, but somehow held back. How did I do it? I started thinking about that big, muscular handsome patient that will never get to experience this very insanity! This is just too ding dang flippin’ real.

The Tribe will be so sick of mommy by dinner time. I am going to hug the shit out of them today!!

Why do people feel the need to put their two cents in when it is so not needed?  I am so sick of hearing the ignorant public’s flippin’ comments.  I would love to have a witty rebuttal but I can never think fast enough above all the noise.

As you know, my tribe consists of three girls.  My sister’s clan is two boys.  I watch them two or three times a week.  This means we become The Pack.  One, two, three, four and six years old.

Wherever we go during the day people feel the need to stare, whisper and ask annoying ass questions.  And I only have four of them during the day.  “How old are you?”  “Are they all yours?”  “My goodness you have your hands full.”  No shit!

Today was no different.  ENT appointment.  The Pack and mommy in a waiting room the size of my closet.  Several old fogies gave me the typical lines.  A few of them did say some sweet words.  I think they could sense my rage!

Then there was the receptionist.

“Well, I can see you brought the whole gang.”  Yup, how observant.  I am watching her talk about me and the kids to the other office lady.  She is making faces and laughing on my behalf.  Ok, now I am ready to break bad.  That is until she asked me to move the kids to one side of the office and pick up the books we had dropped.  Like I wouldn’t have cleaned up before we left that area.

“Did you have your referral put in.”  I start to answer and she says, “I can’t hear you over the kids, could you please come up here.”  I can feel the tears in my eyes.  I am not a crier.  I am a bit of a hard ass.  Don’t you let her see you cry!

We are moved to the room now.  By the way, the pack was very well behaved.  I mean for shits sake they are one, two, three and four.  The doctor does his thing and we are sent back out to the mean, mean lady.  I want to say, “I am sorry you are so miserable to be at work.  It is not my fault this is your ding dang job.  Customer service is very important.”  But I don’t.  I nicely ask to make the next appointment.  Oh yes, please let me come back for more abuse.

I got The Pack back into the caravanarama and started home.  Then I really start crying.   How dare she insinuate that I can’t have four kids or that The pack was badly behaved.  These are my little snot nosed boogy heads and I am the only one that can make snide comments about them.

I am so pissed that I never have a sharp response and care what others think.  That damn women really ruined my day!