Hemorrhaging Money

It really, really sucks ass when D gets paid on a Thursday, I pay the mortgage and gas/electric bill and visit the grocery on Friday and have approximately 23 cents left to spread throughout the next 2 weeks.

And we are, I suppose, snug firmly in the middle class demographic.

Jeez--these prices are killing me. It used to be I could buy a week's worth of staples--cereal, lunch meat and cheese, milk, bread, etc--for about $50 a week. That has jumped to like $80 a week.

I am so hating the economy right now. Oh well, I imagine everyone is in similar straits...or at least that is what the business section of the newspaper suggests.

The Paci Wars (and other evidence that I don't know what I'm doing as a parent)

I am starting to have a problem with N's pacifier use for 2 reasons:

1. She sucks on it just out of boredom (not to sooth herself).
2. She talks with the fucking thing in her mouth.

My original plan which I began yesterday when she turned 4 was to keep paci in her room during the day and she could "visit" anytime she likes, but that seemed to be a clearly unworkable option. It was causing so much problem she refused to go into school yesterday and today, something she has never done. Today she said to me, "I don't want to be 4 anymore. I want to be 3."

So I decided that I needed to pull the troops back and regroup, which always feels like I have lost the battle even when it is my choice to change my plan. The plan now is that paci cannot go in the car and D and I will say, "Excuse me?" whenever she talks with it in her mouth or ignore her until she takes the paci out.

I don't care if she sleeps with it or watches tv with it, but she mostly just lets it hang in her mouth like a cigarette that is lit but not inhaled. And so what is the point?

Truth be told, I am just so annoyed with N in general. The paci is only part of it. She is also all about defiance these days. I have been hearing a lot of "I want tos" and "Now!" Like having Veruca Salt at my side on a daily basis. I look at little G and think he is so cute and sweet and easy now but I will not be able to stand him in 3.5 years either, I'm sure. I thought this infancy stuff was the "hard" part when N was a baby. When she is 13, I will think this age 4 business was easy stuff too.

Most of the time I can delude myself into thinking I have a handle on parenting my child, but right now I am clearly floundering. The pacifier habit. The refusal to poop on the potty (even when she has skid marks in her underpants as she scrambles to get on her pull-up before the poop flies out her butt). The general attitude I get from her too often for my personal taste.

I may have to develop a drinking problem.

Still need to be monitored

Sometimes I feel like I am betraying my blog name because I rarely write about my OCD or GAD. But I am mood-disordered and always will be. As my psychiatrist said this Wednesday afternoon, I need to be monitored. Not that she or I expects anything to go awry, but for everyone's peace of mind and, most importantly, insurance purposes I should check in periodically.

I've had the occasional intrusive thought--envisoning G falling down the stairwell when I carry him to my bedroom in the middle of the night to nurse. This evening I had a breakthrough blip about knives. I don't let them bother me for very long. Usually I think, "Oh darn, another one" and let it go, but it will always be a little unnerving to have these crazy thoughts that pop into my head.

Of course, my shrink says the worse the intrusive thought the more gentle and least likely to be harmful is the person who has the IT. So it is reassuring to know that I won't be acting on any of them.

I think I have finally gotten to a point where I don't feel like my OCD and GAD rule my life as a mom anymore, and that is saying alot because for a long time I felt like these things defined me. Maybe they make mothering a little more challenging for me, but that is all.

As I near the time when I will introduce solids to G, I do wonder whether my brain chemicals will get all wonky as my breastfeeding hormones shift. That seemed to be what threw me into a tailspin with N. But I wasn't on meds then.

So it is nice to feel like I have adjusted to my conditions....FINALLY.

Feel the thrill

The crowd sits on in the edge of its seat...watching, waiting for the moment to arrive. Nothing like this has ever been attempted before...at least not where they live.

"They are gonna do it!," someone yells from the stands. A hush comes over the crowd.

"Weeeeeeeeeee!," screams Aurora, AKA Sleeping Beauty.
" I Just Peed My Chastity Belt," yells Giselle AKA The Princess from Enchanted.

Princess Bungee Jumping has come to FairytaleLand!!!

Cosmo, Valentine's and Real Life

There was a time when I enjoyed browsing through a Cosmo magazine---before I was married. Before I was married was also when I cared about Valentine's Day. Now I experience Real Life, which has nothing to do with either of the aforementioned things.

I happened to see the new Cosmo with Rihanna on the cover. The "teasers" were so stupid. Something about Your Va-Jay-Jay. Um, yes, I remember having trouble saying the word vagina. It was before I exposed mine to everyone in the local hospital when I delivered my daughter. Maybe I'm the only one, but once I wiped another person's ass on a daily basis for years, I kinda lost the weirdness over saying the word vagina.

The other teasers were all about sex. So here is what I want to know.

1. How many married women in their 30s with 2+ kids actually give a rats-ass about having sex?
2. How often do these aforementioned women have sex just to get it over with and alleviate any guilt about denying their husbands?
3. How many would just as soon read a good book and go to sleep? Or eat some chocolate and go to sleep?

Even in Parenting magazine's surveys, it sounds like everyone is bonking like bunnies , and I know I cannot be the only person who just wants to shove all this sex and romance shit up someone's ass.

Ok, say it together now: Poor, poor D.

Between breastfeeding, being on the mini-pill and having a son who visits twice a night most nights, I am soooo not interested in anything having to do with sex. When N and G zonking on the couch this afternoon, I couldn't even watch the Victoria's Secret Sexiest Awards on E, which would normally be the perfect fluff to help my addled brain decompress. I just found it annoying.

So anyway, I did not pick up the copy of Cosmo because I don't really care what's up with my Va-Jay-Jay, provided it doesn't itch. And I didn't even get around to getting D a Valentine card because of the snow and just not being willing to drag myself and both kids into a HallMark for a card once the snow did melt.

Yeah, D is a saint, isn't he.

Polly Pockets in the Jungle

There is a reason I actually like looking at the toy section of stores. I look with the hope of purchasing in order to add a new level of excitement to my life. I don't buy N toys for N. I buy N toys so that I won't be so fricking bored of playing with the same darn toys.

Our latest game is Polly Pockets in the Jungle, which was actually quite enjoyable the first couple times we played. We dressed about 6 Disney Princess Polly Pockets in jungle gear (not their ball gowns) and had then go to the jungle (the fake plant in our dining room). They climb into the jungle and shake coconuts down, which they then load into their car. They send baskets (Polly Pocket purses) up a rope (the string belt from a negligee) and put bananas in it. They pick red berries. They have tents (cardboard bent in half) and a bonfire (spanish moss). They sleep in sleeping bags (baby washclothes cut in half).

And as I type this, a part of me thinks, "Wow, Carrie, what a great mom you are to be coming up with such cool props." But the truth is, I only do it to relieve the agonizing boredom of playing this game ad nauseum. I added the cardboard tends and spanish moss bonfire because I couldn't stand for the Polly's to shake the fucking tree AGAIN. And sleep on leaves AGAIN. And play hide & seek in the jungle AGAIN.

After playing Polly Pockets in the Jungle 4 times a day for a week, even with the new stuff, I am over it.

Sometimes it is so hard for me to keep the "I am SOOO Damn Bored look" off my face. When I've really had it I just lay down and hold the dolls until N hollers at me to do something. And then I give a daytime soap opera lame-ass performance.

There is hope, though. We let N watch The Wizard of Oz, so we have played that once with the Polly's--the boy Polly Pockets are the scarecrow, tinman and lion. And it was fabulous...because we weren't in the jungle. Oz was a great change of pace, but it won't last but another 3-4 times. And then I'll be finding something to make into flying monkeys.

Latest photos

N and I made an early Valentine card for her daddy by kissing a paper. She should work at the cosmetics counter at VonMaur.

G is all about his toes right now.

The hoss is wearing 6-9 months clothing since he's a whopping 17+ lbs.