This is a topic I had in my mind for a while and had been waiting to write an entry on. But first to update you all on my life the past couple weeks. I just became more angry before any other emotion after the firing, mostly because I’ve never been fired in my life, and it was something completely out of my control. But on a happy and unexpected note, I had an interview for a support worker at the Y in before/after school programs. Although it’s only part time, it’s a REAL job and I wouldn’t be embarrassed to share with the world what I do. I find out this Friday, so I will definitely keep you guys posted. On a personal note, Tim returned home for a short time, but sadly had to return to London again for an undetermined amount of time. So sirs and I are getting back into our routine and doing our best not to kill each other while daddy is away.
Not that the sex thing is an issue now that I don’t have someone to have sex with. But when my husband is around and in the future when sirs is a human being with ears. Whenever I have this discussion with other parents most of them say they have their children in the room across the hall and just giver. Umm, am I the only one who wouldn’t be comfortable with this? Currently our house is attached to my dad’s, with cement, brick, insulation, etc etc between us, and I’m STILL convinced they can hear us. Now once sirs is old enough to hear us I’m not sure my husband and I will ever have sex again. I figure there are only a few options if I ever want to have sex again- 1) Move him to the basement- beside the kitty litter 2) Get a 6 story house, and he still lives in the basement 3) Wait until he’s out of the house (um at 18?) 4) Send him to boarding school. So as you can tell there are few options and none are viable, shit. Other weird fucking couples may be okay with their children listening to them do the humpy hump, but I’m not one of those freaks. Some of you may say, “Oh, we just wait until they’re asleep”. Um yea, just a heads up, they’re not really asleep, you naive bastards. In any baby books, toddler, etc, or marriage books, I’ve never seen how to comfortably have sex while children are in your house. That’s one thing I’d like to know. Anyone have any suggestions, and not anything I’ve mentioned here.
I’m sorry for the delay in writing, it’s been a busy dog walkin week! I’ve had a lot of messages asking what happened with the cleaning after I spoke to the babysitter so this blog will cover her first week, my multiple face smashings, and why I’m a good mother.
So on the second day of babysitting I was going to tell her to clean up after herself, and there were other things I wanted to bring up to her. I made a list of everything I wanted to talk to her about just so I didn’t forget. When it came to the next morning I didn’t have the heart to ream her out on her second day, so I decided to say nothing and see if anything changed. I come home that day and her dishes are clean, baby’s are clean, AND mine are clean. I’m figuring she either saw my notes, or read my blog. I’m a dirty slob and I’m all about, do as I say, not as I do, so I felt really bad that she went that far from reading my notes. So being the good employer that I am I told her she only needed to clean up her stuff and baby’s… um no I didn’t. It’s a week later and she’s still cleaning my dishes, and today she tidied up the entire living room/kitchen area. She doesn’t go as far as a cleaning lady would so I feel I’m not entirely exploiting her. She’s starting to do a great job with my house, and the boy is still alive so all in all I think I’ll keep her. Unfortunately no crazy stories on that side other than I have a new babysitter and “house tidier”.
This week has taken a toll on my face however. Yesterday I was sitting down, yes peeing, and I bent over to pick up toilet paper and smashed my forehead coming up on the sink. Somehow I’m not bruised but it hurts to touch or to make any of my numerous hilarious facial expressions. And today I whacked my nose on something and I’m PRETTY sure it’s broken. If I were a doctor, and I think I am, I’d say it’s broken. My nose is bruised and painful as fuck; if my forehead were bruised too I’d be one messed up looking chick. Tomorrow I’ll probably break my arm at the rate I’m going.
Little sirs has a turtle animal light that shines stars on the ceiling that he just loves to go to sleep with and push the buttons before he falls asleep. It’s been weeks since the batteries have been dead, well who are we kidding, probably months. Once I finally decided to change the batteries for him it took me another week just to get the stupid lid to the batteries screwed off, and that didn’t even get finished. That only got done because my parents stopped in and finished the job. I was like, yes finally can get this thing working again, alas I had no batteries. Yes, I could have gone out and bought three AAA batteries but that seemed like WAY too much work. I only had one thing battery operated in my home that took AAA batteries, so I went to my underwear drawer and took my batteries out. Don’t ever think I’m not a good mom based on this blog, this proves that I’m a great mom, one who sacrifices her own happiness for her child’s. 🙂
Missed you guys, hope you enjoyed!
I didn’t have near the anxiety I thought I would leaving my child with a total stranger, especially amazing as she is just a kid. It was like pulling teeth to find out how the day went as she’s so quiet and just seemed to want to get out the door. Apparently they had a good day, he was a good boy, and he’s still alive, so that’s a bonus.
There are a few things however that I’ll have to repeat to her again tomorrow. The first thing I notice is that Cobain is eating lunch an hour behind schedule; fine, I can let that slide. Then I see he has a heaping pile of Kraft dinner in his baby bowl. My son has never eaten Kraft dinner, we try to keep processed foods and excess salt, excess of anything bad out of his diet. Even though I wanted to say, “are you fucking retarded??!” I calmly said, “oh lucky boy, you’ve never had KD before” and then showed her where his whole wheat noodles were. Then after she practically runs out the door I notice sirs diaper is on oddly, with a lot of pieces hanging out; she may need some lessons tomorrow. All of that I’m willing to not get upset about, but what took the cake is that dishes, toys, blankets outside were all still out. I told her that I wanted everything cleaned up after it was used, so she had no reason to be so lazy. I ended up having to clean all her dishes she used for herself, picked up the baby toys, and brought everything inside that she had used. THAT shit will not fly! I’ll try to be as nice as possible telling her that she needs to fucking clean up after herself in my home!
Sirs is still alive with no visible marks, so all in all a good first day of a stranger looking after baby. There will just need to be some tweaks to be done to this girl.
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…
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!
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.
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.