Facebook page

This isn’t going to be an exciting, hilarious post like my usual ones, but just to give my none Facebook readers a heads up. I was convinced and hand held into creating a Facebook page for my blog and this is to let you know it’s up and running! The link to view/like is on the right hand side so please visit and enjoy. Everything that I post there is with you guys in mind, random thoughts I don’t write blogs on, or pictures, some relating to previous entries. Lots of love and thanks again for all the support.
Mumma C

Bouquet of three award

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I’d like to cry a little, and think that being an honest, horrible, mean mommy is all worth it after today! Thanks so much to Mommy Flying Solo for honoring me with my first blog award. I feel like my ramblings have all been worth it and mucho love to my readers, as few as they may be.

So nominees, this is what you are supposed to do if you are awarded.

  1. Display the Award Certificate on your website/blog
  2. Announce your win with a post. Make sure to post a link back to me as a ‘thank you’ for the nomination.
  3. Present up to 15 awards to deserving bloggers
  4. Drop them a comment to tip them off after you have linked them in the post
  5. Post 7 interesting things about yourself

    Since I’m insanely busy with no life, no friends and no soul I’m only going to nominate a few people, I don’t even follow 15 blogs!

    My nominees are:

1. http://5kidswdisabilities.com/
2. http://theeducatednannyblog.com/
3. http://aopinionatedman.com/
4. http://iambeggingmymothernottoreadthisblog.com/

7 interesting things about me:

1. I have an undergrad degree and a teaching degree, and I’m walking dogs for a living
2. I’m an insane movie buff. Give me an actor’s face (I can name them and movies they’ve been in), a line from a movie (I can name the movie), a movie title, (I can name the year it was released (mostly) and actors in it)
3. I failed grade 10 math
4. I’m a tanorexic and my family has a history of skin cancer… you do the math, cause clearly I can’t
5. I taught in Mexico City
6. I’m afraid of everything- the dark, babies, people, public, being alone, cooking/cleaning, freezing, drowning, etc etc etc
7. I have multiple dream jobs, but my ultimate ultimate, is to be a book editor

Paper boy & whiners

As I am working now and Tim is out of town my mom has been kind enough to come down for the week to look after sirs while I’m at work. We have made a discovery about baby sirs, which I think I suspected all along. This blog covers parenthood and the crappiness of it, and how sirs is a bit of a whiner… hence why I’m whining online. When I’m not at home apparently Cobain is the most well behaved, quietest, sweetest baby that ever lived. Um, which baby are you looking after all day, because I know my sirs is 1 of the 3 above mentioned. He’ll be playing perfectly content and the second I walk in the door he’s crying and rolling all over the floor, and cuddling his toys. It’s not as if I ignore him when I walk in the door, I drop everything and go right to him and give him hugs and kisses. What.the.fuck. Is it me? Is he suckie with me because he knows he can get away with it? Did he miss me? I’d like to say it’s because he missed me, but even after he gets used to me being around he’s still carrying on being a little bugger and whining. Why can’t we all just get along and not cry when we’re around each other? I’m hoping it’s just something he’ll get over, but good news for babysitters that he’s not as terrible, “allegedly”, as I make him seem.

As part of my super elitist job the odd time I have to deliver our business flyers to certain neighborhoods. Gah. First of all, NO ONE LIKES FLYERS, secondly, it’s awkward as all hell going up to someone’s house when they’re clearly home and trying to run away before they catch you. I had to explain myself to one half dressed man today who opened his door as I was waiting to not get sprayed by his sprinkler; otherwise I would have escaped in time, damn it. Half of what I said was unheard so I had to keep repeating myself, then as I was walking away he told me to take my flyer back. Rejected, and insanely embarrassing. I have to go back to that neighborhood tomorrow as I didn’t have enough flyers. I’m thinking of wearing a mask so people that I pissed off today with my stupid flyers don’t recognize me tomorrow.

The endless joke that is my life continues on…
Mumma C

Missed you

Hello readers! Turns out having a job takes away from having any free time, boo, so I haven’t been able to write at all. I’ve missed you guys, hope you missed me too 🙂

I had Sunday off, only one day, so I decided to drive to London and back in one day. Luckily I had a good friend who is as nuts as me and was willing to do the drive with me to pick up mr sirs. Tim had to unforeseeably stay in London for an undetermined amount of time and I couldn’t not have sirs home again. The trip luckily was pretty uneventful except for driving in second gear in an automatic car. We made it just to Toronto and I already blew through an entire tank of gas. My dad lent me his car so I was pissed he gave me such a gas guzzler, and I called him three times to ask what the hell was wrong with his car. Between the three of us we finally figured out that I was in second gear which apparently is like going 120 mph. No wonder I spent 100 dollars in gas just in three hours!

So my sirs is back home and I’m working and frantically looking for childcare again. The 16 year old we interviewed was a good idea but once we asked her to work she said she would be gone for a month this summer; how fucking helpful kid. Long story short she luckily isn’t going until August so her first official day is Monday! I already have the teddies, just need to get those tiny little cameras to hide in the bear’s ass to spy on the girl. That sounded more creepy then I meant it, to see what she’s doing with sirs, not what she’s doing in the bathroom!

The job is going well, however met the creepiest man and the dog from hell this week. When there is a new client my boss goes and brings one of us to meet them and their dog. My boss and I go to the lower income housing area and we meet toothless joe with his cute dog. My boss needs to fill out a bunch of paperwork but the client didn’t want us going up to his apartment. My boss, “Well, um, where is her leash, water?” “Oh it’s just right at the door, you don’t need to worry about any of that”. Meanwhile I’m the one who has to go into this apartment first to get the dog the next day and I’m thinking of an exit strategy when the door bolts shut behind me. Toothless joe sitting in his chair with his fingers Mr. Burns style and his dog sitting obediently at his side. Luckily his apartment was relatively normal, minus the heap of dirty dishes with fruit flies, and toothless joe was absent. The dog turns out to be the horrid one and chooses to bolt into traffic to jump on cars. What dog does that?? Since I almost lost my arm I didn’t have to see that dog again, hopefully it’ll stay that way!

Mumma C

Separation anxiety

 

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So far so good with signing my life over to the crazy boss lady. The job is fun, easy going, and you rarely have to deal with people, bonus! There’s the odd scary old lady who wants everything to be very exact and it’s like she’s just waiting at the door for you to tell you what you did wrong on the walk. Yea, she wasn’t on the walk. All in all, nothing really to report there.

My baby sirs isn’t coming home now for another week and this is causing me major distress. My fun time, mommy alone time has quickly passed and now just become grief. I just found out today that Tim hasn’t been feeling well so he’s not able to make the trip for another couple of days. Oh and before hearing this I finally decided to get my windshield wipers looked at. They had stopped working 3 months ago, and I just figured I’d Ace Ventura it and drive with my head out the window when it rained. Now that I’m driving for a living and it was pouring today, and I didn’t feel like killing myself or anyone else, I finally decided to go to crappy tire to get it looked at. Long story short, luckily was just a bolt loose and “only” cost $150. That really was just to have someone look at it and screw a bolt, and this was after 2 1/2 hour wait. Let me tell you, Canadian Tire is not THAT interesting for 2 hours.

Anyways, I started to tear up a bit while waiting there thinking of not seeing baby for another week. I held it together in public, but when I got home I just cried for 15 minutes in the shower. I want to cry just thinking about it now. Don’t think that your baby will be the only one with separation anxiety, trust me, you will feel it too. When I am away from him I always wonder if he’ll forget me, or resent me, or not want me around when he comes home. I hate when people tell me he won’t forget, you’re his mom, bla bla. How can they know what a 13 month old is thinking, or feeling? Tim told me he’s been really cranky the past day or so, and I can’t help but think it’s because of me. He’s beginning to eat more exciting food, his hair is getting longer, and I think he’s very close to walking. I know it sounds stupid to think it’s only two weeks, but you’d be surprised at how quickly they change in such a short amount of time. When you’re with them all the time you don’t notice it, but when you’re away and then you see them again, you definitely notice it.

Being away from baby and hubby for a couple days is a godsend, it’s like you’re single again and have no cares in the world. But once you do become a mumma, despite all the rants and sour grapes, he’s still your baby and you miss him every second you’re away from him.

Mumma C

Urinating- it isn’t for everyone

Here were are again at 1am and these are the things that come to mind when I can’t sleep. I’ve been wanting to write an entry about labour, mostly post labour and let those future moms know what nobody told me. Male readers I’m giving you a warning to back away slowly if you’re not into female “things”.

I had been told, as I’m sure everyone has, as it is common knowledge, that labour sucks. And fuck you to all those women who say it was a time where they understood their purpose in life and it was a beautiful experience. Fuck you. It’s the worse pain you can even imagine, and don’t be a hero and turn down drugs. I was trying to be a hero, or insane when I said I wanted the epidural but I’d wait until it got bad before I received it. I was under the impression the epidural wore off after a certain amount of time, so I wanted to wait till the pain was unbearable so I had the pain relief during the worst of it. Once the pain hit, so bad words really can’t describe the pain, I had to get the epidural. I waited so long to get it I was shaking so badly from pain it took the anesthesiologist longer to put the needle in because I couldn’t stay still. So point being, get the damn epidural ya hippie bitches.

I had heard that you can shit while pushing during labour, but that you are so out of it and into the pushing you don’t even notice. Plus apparently the nurses are so on top of it the clean up is super quick. I was fairly positive I’d notice if I shit myself while pushing so I was wary to believe that it’d be like, oops just shit myself, moving along. I’m sure this didn’t happen to me though, but case in point, it either really didn’t happen or you REALLY don’t notice it, so be happy for that.

NOBODY told me about having a total lack of control of your pee hole after you give birth. The night I gave birth I was in my room and I had to pee. I couldn’t walk myself and I had an IV so Tim had to help me get up and to the bathroom. The second I stood up, without warning, the pee just gushed out and to the floor. I didn’t push, didn’t do a thing, it’s like it just fell out. This happened I’d say for at least another month or so, but luckily not to that extent! It Tim ever said anything funny I was screwed, I couldn’t hold my pee in while laughing so I’d piss all over myself. The first month after baby was born we were in Stratford for the day, I had a skirt on and Tim was being his usual hilarious self. Let’s just say I didn’t pack a spare pair of anything and I peed all down my leg. My husband was nice enough to give me his underwear while mine were bunched in a ball in my purse. I could have just had loose vaginal walls or something, but future mamas maybe have a spare liner, underwear or something if you’re far away from home.

The same friend who told me it’s possible to have back your pre baby body also told me you’re vagina isn’t flapping in the wind, like throwing a hotdog down a bowling alley kind of thing after you give birth. I was afraid my vagina would be all kinds of gross and never go back to the way it was. Just to let you know, it does go back to normal! And for proof, unless he’s a dirty liar, my husband says it’s the same as it was before baby.

I’m sure there are a ton more things I could tell you about post labour, and perhaps I could add a few more in future entries. But for now, it’s 1:30am and I’m becoming brain dead. I hope this gives some of you some relief and some of you frightened enough not to have children 🙂
Mumma C

Good parent?

It’s 6:06 pm and I’m already laying my sweet ass down to bed, and yes this is normal for me. The baby’s bedtime has now become the parent’s bedtime, and I’m lovin it. So what’s my excuse since he’s not here… um, I’m lazy and I love bed? Although last night I actually left the house at 10pm to see the supermoon, which wasn’t very super, but then I got scared because it was dark out and ran back inside. I haven’t seen darkness around me in so long I forgot what it looked like. I’m also currently wearing my new Jaws shirt, and I don’t like it as much… maybe it’ll grow on me once I wear it in public and people tell me how awesome it is.

So I thought tonight I should steer a little towards the main purpose of my blog, and get back to parenting. I’ve been told, not very often mind you, by people that they think I’m a good mom and doing a good job with Cobain. I always say thank you and mumble something under my breathe like, how the hell would you know? People who aren’t with us 24 hours a day, or even for an hour out of a month aren’t very reliable sources on what makes me a good mom. For all they know I bring Cobain out of his closet when people visit, which is never, so technically he’s always in his closet. When friends or family see me with Cobain sure I feed him once in a while, give him some face squeezes, and change his diaper, if I remember, and I always think to myself, is that what they consider makes a good mom? I feel like the only person who could make an accurate statement of whether I’m a good mom or not is my husband because he’s the one who has to deal with our stupid ugly faces all day and night. I feel when people tell you you’re a good mother they think it’s the right thing to say, so they do, which just irritates me. It’s like when people tell you your baby is cute. You lyin’, you lyin’ to me, don’t fuckin lie. Cobain just happens to actually be cute, but other actual ugly babies. People think that’s what you should say when you meet a newborn or a child for the first time, but they’re all lying. I feel sorry for parents who think their child is cute, and everyone behind their backs are really saying, “good god, holy mother of mary that is one unfortunate looking child”. Hey, you want to know the truth about your kid on the ugly scale, and whether you’re a horrible mom or not, I’ll tell you! Don’t poop on my lawn and tell me it’s gold, or whatever the saying is, don’t just say the obligatory “you’re a good mom” cause I don’t want to hear it. Now, if you have something to back that statement up then please, shower me with compliments.

I know the truth hurts sometimes, but sometimes you have to hear it.
Mumma C