Life in the Fish Bowl



Not only am I feeling better....

How smart are you?

Just breaking the truth to your dumb ass kidding, of course.

Feeling Better, but Missing My Little Man

Lately things have been pretty hectic at our house. I guess not just lately, but since last fall. I think I have just been a little out of it since that first miscarriage in October. But you know that time of year there is so much to keep you busy - Halloween, then Thanksgiving, then Christmas. By the time we had the Christmas decorations down and the wrapping paper put away it was Valentine's Day.

I was here doing just enough to get by. Washing clothes just before everything was dirty. Cleaning house (or what passes for cleaning around here!) just when someone was coming over. Basically just calling it in. Sitting around on this computer waaay too much and not spending enough time out with my Punkin

Then another miscarriage. Since then it has gotten bad. My attitude sucks. The house looks like a toy box and someone's closet blew up in it. We've lived off Taco Bell and Little Caesars and my ass has grown accordingly. Then potty training. Oh. My. God. Someone rescue me please! Were not my husband either inordinately understanding or just too lazy to go elsewhere (still not quite well enough to answer that fairly) I figure I wouldn't have a husband at all.

And lately that would have suited me just fine. Because I pretty much just haven't give a shit.

For some reason, yesterday I started feeling better. Feeling like cleaning house, like maybe having a civil conversation with my husband, like getting out in the yard with my Punkin, like finishing the million projects either not started or half finished around my house. Today I've felt even better. I think I am finally walking out of the cloud of misery and feeling sorry for myself that I have been living in for months.

To those who know me who are reading this post, I'm sorry for my shitty attitude. Maybe I was just depressed, probably clinically, or maybe I was just being a big baby. I don't know. But I feel better now, I think.

My Punkin' has gone to stay with his Nanny tonight and I am missing him desperately. As much as I sometimes long for a free minute, for a second when he isn't jumping on my lap like it's a trampoline, or asking for lemonade, or - lately - taking a big dump in his pants, I love that little cutie so much! I miss him telling me he very loves me or that it's ok sweetie or that he wants me to sit in his lap.

He came and got in the bed with us this morning, but then went back to sleep. DH got called in to work, which woke me up and I couldn't go back to sleep. For the first time in I can't remember when, I was awake and Punkin' was sleeping. I lay there for half an hour and watched him sleeping, so angelic and peaceful in his slumber.

It brought back memories of watching him sleep on my chest when he was a baby, when the only place he would nap was laying on me. It made me remember that I have some wonderful things in my life and that I need to get over the disappointments and appreciate the great things that I do have and to stop crying over things that I have lost - or never had to begin with.

I have what I need, not always what I want, but what I need.

When I pick up Punkin' tomorrow evening he will have his old mommy back. My husband can have his old wife back, if he still wants me. Nothing is perfect and nothing ever will be and I think I can accept that now, or I am at least willing to try. I've got a great little family here and some great friends and I won't feel sorry for myself anymore. If I do, please, someone put a foot to my ass, ok?

I'm back.

Its Summertime and the Viewing is Crappy

So summer is here and all of my shows are on hiatus until fall. Time for the B team to make its debut. They aren't necessarily the best shows out there, but I have been pleasantly surprised at the number of new episodes showing this summer.

My DVD timers:

  • Reunited: The Real World Vegas - looking to be the most boring reality show ever
  • Top Chef - love me some Top Chef
  • Bad Girls Road Trip - this one is really sucking, too
  • The Dead Zone - stars Anthony Michael Hall, the nerd from the Breakfast Club, based on the Stephen King novel and actually pretty good
  • The 4400 - haven't decided if this one is good or bad, but I've watched every episode
  • Real World/Road Rules Challenge - go good guys!
  • Entourage - Good show, but it's no Sopranos or Sex in the City
  • Big Love - Great show about a functional dysfunctional family
  • Hell's Kitchen - Chef needs a foot in his ass
  • The Closer - Great lady in charge cop show, but work on that southern accent Kyra

    And for the kiddie (of course I wouldn't watch these, no, no)

  • The Wonder Pets! - the phone, the phone is ringing
  • The Land Before Time - one of our Punkin's new favorites
  • Harry and His Bucketfull of Dinosaurs - we've watched these too many times to like them anymore, but it is a cute show if you like dinosaurs
  • Thomas and Friends - this show will cost you $$$ if your kid likes it
  • Signing Time - Punkin loves the zoo episode and has learned a few signs, too
  • Little Einsteins - Another great Disney show with lots of learning opportunities
  • Go, Diego, Go! - Animals, animals, animals, Punkin's favorite things
  • Dora the Explorer - I. Hate. Dora. Dora, Dora, Dora the explorer....(can't get that stupid song out of my head. Just ask the other shoppers at WalMart...)
  • Franklin - I like Franklin.
  • Little Bear - I tolerate, but prefer the similar, but better Franklin
  • The Smurfs (I'm so proud!) - going back to my childhood, one episode at a time

We actually have 42 timers, but I don't want to bore you even more so I'll leave the non-new episodes for another time.

I know this was a lame excuse for a post, but I was feeling bloggy, but not very imaginative!

Bedtime at Punkin's House


Punkin': I don't want to sleep anymore!

Me: You are a little boy. You have to sleep.

P: I lub Daddy.


P: I am not a turd. I am Punkin'.

M: (laughs)

P: I'm a turkey. Gobble, gobble.

P & M: (laugh)

P: Let's play sounds. Gobble, gobble.

M: Go to Sleep. Turd.


P: Mommy, I lub you. I lub you very much.


P: (kicks M in ribs, jabs M in neck with elbow)

M: I'm gonna put you outside to sleep on the deck.

P: I don't want to sleep outside. It is very dangerous and there are dirty worms.



I get up and leave him in his room alone.


That little shit is still banging around in there, wide awake, tearing the place apart.

I can hardly keep my eyes open.

May go sleep on the deck with the worms. The very dangerous and dirty worms.

Adventures in Potty Training

Today was day 11 of hell potty training. Punkin' is doing better than I expected. He made his first outing in his big boy underwear (Diego if you must know!) - an exciting trip to WalMart. Since we haven't left the house in 11 days we were in dire need of groceries. We were gone about an hour and a half and he stayed completely dry.

**Warning** Enter the bathrooms in the Alabaster, Alabama, WalMart at your own risk. I have never seen anything so disgusting in my life!

So we have the pee under control. No accidents in several days. Now poop is a different story. He is still gifting me with a warm, stinky package each day - if not more than one. I have offered him bribes rewards to poop in the potty - rewards which he cries for - but he still refuses to make a deposit.

I am sooooooo tired of living, sleeping, breathing poop!!!!! Since he is very stubborn (my mother says this is payback) I think I'll just let him poop where he wants and maybe he will then go in the toilet just to piss me off. At least I feel like we can venture out and rejoin the world again.

On a happier note, he was so much fun at WalMart today. I guess he was as tired of being cooped up in this house as I was. He smiled and talked to and flirted with every woman/girl we passed. He said hi and excuse me and hey and look at my rhino. He even pointed out to one Mom and her three girls that the rhino had "horns and a tail and ears four legs and a back".

And a back. Now how many two year old's know that a rhino has a back?

My little Einstein. I'm sure he'll soon be offered his own show on Animal Planet.

I would like to be the mother of a star. I'm picking out my new car already......

Life is Good

Watching the Smurfs, snuggled up with my Punkin'.

I love the Smurfs.

My Punkin' loves the Smurfs.

I love my Punkin'.

DH went to bed early.

Life is good......

Ode to a Butterbean

Can you believe someone dumped this baby at the MSPCA where he was about to be put to sleep before he was rescued? He took a long time to come around (nearly three years before he would sit in my lap!), but now is just my big furry baby! His owner said he was scared of their new baby, but he first sat with me after mine was born.

All of the cats stay in the master bedroom while Punkin' in up since he is a terror these days, but the minute his door closes they are crying to be set free!

Butterbean, at rest.

You didn't ask me if you could take my picture!!

The Money Shot

Being so good looking really wears you out!

Hey, it's a hot chick! And she has money!

She's playing hard to get, but I know she likes me!

Need a Vocabulary Boost?

I speak English. Some people may beg to differ, but I repeat: I. Speak. English.

I would like to know another language, or two, or three, but I don't. Some Polish friends tried to teach me Polish, but all I came away with was a few curse words.

To get to the point, I was reading Yankee Belle's blog this evening and her post had a title which I assumed was in Spanish. Not wanting to be out of the loop, I do a search for Besa Mi Culo.

I see from the search results that this translates loosely as kiss my ass. I file this for later use and wish I had known this when my painters were here. I also notice a couple of other websites.

Caption: Mexican Spanish Language Swear Words: Profanity, Swearing, Cursing ...'s Spanish & Mexican insults - they had quite a few choice phrases and words, but watch out for the boob shots down the margins of the page. If you know anyone from Bessemer, Alabama, who likes to take photos you might want to skip this one. "Their tag line is "Purveyors of Verbal Filth on the Internet since 1999".

Cool. I'm always up for some verbal filth, though I could do without the Bessemer boobs.

This got me wondering so I googled the same phrase. The first result was The Urban Dictionary. Just to expand my horizons verbally, because, hey, I'm all about higher learning, I did a search on "dick". I was interested to find the following definitions:
  1. Man's most magnificently majestic manifestation of his raw power and potency.
  2. An abrasive man (no shit Sherlock!).
  3. Slang for penis and usually is a stick of intense pleasure.

Are you with me on thinking a man wrote most of these definitions?

In closing, a photo of the tattoo I know you all want:

He Dropped the Bomb on Me, Baby

I spent a total of six hours in the bathroom with Punkin' yesterday.

Nothing. Nothing then, nothing later.

Then, this morning, he drops the bomb. Three. Different. Times.

In. His. Pants.

Aggggghhhhh!!!! At least the cats use their boxes, even if I Hubby does have to scoop it up later. I don't have to wipe their furry butts or wash their shitty underwear.

I told him I was very sad and very angry that he couldn't wouldn't use the potty.

He asked me if I still loved him.

I said yes, but I was still angry.

Stinky butt or not, I love that little guy.

Hey - I wonder if I could get him to use the litter box?

The Song Remains the Same

It's like I've been here before. The bathroom floor. Begging for poopie. This time, however, I've made myself a nice pallet of towels to try to help cushion the old bum. I'm wondering just how long potty training is supposed to take? We've been at it non stop for the past eight days now and I am TIRED.

As I type this my Punkin' is pulling on his willy saying "Bigger, bigger". hehe. Maybe if he could pay a little less attention to it and concentrate a little more on its neighbor we could get something accomplished today.

On a less malodorous note, I made lasagna last night and it was soooooo good! Shouldn't be surprised as the recipe, by Pioneer Woman, was called The Best Lasagna. Ever. I also tried her Chicken Spaghetti which, especially if you like things a little spicy, was delicious. Hubby liked it, Punkin' even liked it and he normally turns his little button nose up at anything which he hasn't had before. He ate a ton! This gets Chicken Spaghetti the Life in the Fish Bowl five fish rating!

I am going now to look for some strong tape, approximately the size of a toddler's mouth. Then extra strength Tylenol or maybe a little Midori.

This is going to be a long day. I'm open for suggestions......

Who Woulda Thunk It????

I was reading another blog and found this website which gives ratings to your blog.

Who would have thought my little blog would be rated R?

I pretty much talk about toddlers, potty training, pain in the butt hubby - just every day boring stuff which is pretty much common to most everyone at some point in their lives.

This rating was determined based on the presence of the following words:

poop (5x)
ass (3x)
shit (2x)
pecker (1x)

Not a f word in the bunch, nor a GD, nor a MFr. I think I've showed incredible restraint (especially considering DH is mentioned quite often)and still I am rated R. Maybe I'm not such a boring old grandma after all....

Random Question

Has anyone ever heard of poo pie?

When I spell checked my last post it highlighted poopie as a potential misspelling.

Just out of curiosity I checked the suggested corrections and got the following:

poo pie

Now I get Pope, poop, and pope. But poo pie?

You can have my slice.

Follow Up to Last Post

It has been all of five minutes since I published my last post, gave up on the whole idea of my child pooping in the toilet today, let him win this particular battle and went into the living room.

What does he do?

Starts pooping in his pants!

Yes. The little shit shit his pants! My ass is still numb from the bathroom floor and he doesn't even have the decency to let me get my laptop plugged up before he lets it go.

What ingratitude! I mean he acts like he is two years old!

Or a husband.

Speaking of which, we are back in the bathroom, Punkin' is on the toilet (of course he isn't finishing his job), and we are waiting on DH to get home from the store.

I was going to cook lasagna tonight, but he decided he would "help me out" and "let me relax" by cooking hamburgers (yea, in my most sarcastic tone) on the grill. Now if I was cooking I would be:

  • in the kitchen
  • alone
  • not in the bathroom begging for poopie

Now that would be relaxing. Instead, I will be inside dealing with poop and piss while hubby is outside grilling and drinking Sam Adams.

He is soooo considerate.

Newton Discovered Gravity, Galileo Discovered the Laws of Motion and Relativity and ....

My son has discovered his penis.

He has never paid it much attention before. It was always bundled up in a diaper or had to compete with rubber animals and foam letters in the bathtub (I mean nothing, however grand, can compare with a rubber duckie, right?). We were never much for letting him roam around naked as he could probably hit the side of the Sears Tower if he knew which way to aim (not that he aims much, but you get the picture), so sitting on the toilet for hours at a time with it just hanging around is new for him.

We are currently deep in the throes of potty training. I've spent most of the day sitting in the bathroom floor, my ass killing me, begging for poopie.

Yes, I said it. Begging. For. Poopie.

At one point I went through my whole PG-13 feces repertoire. I asked for poopie, crap, doo doo, stinky, dookie - I even asked for a good smelly poot, just to let me know we were making progress.

All I got was the smelly poot. But I digress. This post is about the joy of discovery.

So he has discovered Mr. Happy. He has pulled on it, twisted it, squeezed it. For some reason I am reminded of the rule Mrs. Hassell taught us about prepositions in 9th grade English. It was a preposition if you could do it to a hole (I know, this could be another post in itself!): in the hole, on the hole, around the hole, by the hole, etc, etc. You name it that little bugger has done it to his pecker today!

Funniest thing, I guess, is him pulling on it and saying "Bigger! Bigger!" Now he is 2 1/2, but how many grown men do you know that do the same thing???

And some with about the same result as my Punkin'.

I'm trying to think on the positive side, though, and I've come up with a few plus' to these developments:
  • it doesn't take batteries
  • no batteries means I don't have to hunt for the little tiny screwdriver to remove the battery cover
  • it is free (well, $100 deductible from my c-section)
  • it won't wear out if he plays with it too much
  • don't have to worry about losing it or to remember to pack it if we travel
  • is dual function, work and play
  • don't have to worry about someone taking it away from him at a playgroup
  • no Moms will roll their eyes when he doesn't offer to share

Note to self: Learn how to put parental controls on the pay-per-view channels

Need some Tide to go with my Pride

I am so proud of my little man. He is progressing so well with his potty training. He has been dry every night except one and 100% dry on naps.

Of course he takes a great big dump in his big boy underwear every. single. day. Then he tells me, "oooh, it stinks." Now I'm the one who has to wipe his sweet little ass and clean the poop up, but he thinks it stinks. He's right. It stinks in more ways than one.

While I am bragging I might as well get it all out. He is doing great at feeding himself. He only wears maybe 15% of his meals now and getting better everyday. But the important thing is the 10% that end up on the table, his little table, he has started cleaning up himself. He goes to the kitchen, gets a dish towel or six, and wipes his hands and the table. As he goes. Each time he drops a bite he cleans it up. I have lots of wash to do (good thing I have an incredibly well stocked kitchen), but I'm so proud!

Now my sweet, adorable Punkin' is 2 1/2 years old. My husband is 34 and still leaves food all over the counter, floor, couch, himself. Where ever it falls it stays. GRRRRRR. He'll clean it up if I point it out, but hey, if the 2 year old can handle it without Mommy helping, shouldn't the husband be able to? If he starts pooping his pants he is on his own.....

PT: Day 1

Accidents: 2 = 1 pee, 1 pee/poop

Naptime: 3.5 hours in Scooby Doo underwear totally dry!!!!

Overnight: wearing a nighttime diaper which was also totally dry this morning!!!!

And he went to sleep by himself. Actually ASKED to go to sleep by himself.

My son is now officially more mature than my husband!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My Little Man is Growing Up!!

For about half of his life Punkin' went to bed by himself with no problem. Then he moved to a full size bed and learned how to open the door and turn on his lights. At this point we had to start laying down with him to get him to sleep or he would just turn on the light and play all night (imagine a hurricane confined to a small room).

Tonight I lay down with him and we read Ten Apples Up on Top, one of his favorites. He finishes most of the pages for me, so I really only read about half of the book. Anyway, we turned off the lights and he kept wiggling around so I asked him if he wanted to go to sleep by himself.

He said yes.

I asked if he was sure, if he wanted me to go in the living room and leave him alone, and he said yes. What a big man my little man is!!! I covered him up, kissed him goodnight and started to leave.

He says "Sweet dreams".

Ahhh, I do love him. He is my sweet dream.

My Descent into the Abyss OR The First Day of Potty Training

Today we began potty training. It's not the first time we have tried, but it is the first time we are really going to stick with it.

My Punkin' is adamant that he "will not use the potty any more" (direct quote!). He said he likes diapers, doesn't like underwear.

First thing this morning we go to the potty.


We put on our Scooby Doo underwear (now when I say we I hope you know I'm definitely not wearing Scooby Doo underwear - couldn't find any in my size!) and went about our business.

We try again and have a screaming fit. He acts like he is going to hit me and I tell him he better not. So he starts hitting himself until his tummy is quite red. He finally pees, but he is standing sideways screaming at me so most of it goes up the wall and into the floor.

New underwear.

Playing in the living room floor.

Poops his pants AND pees in the floor.

New underwear.

Look for something to mix with the vodka that is in the basement and type this blog entry.

I envision spending the next few weeks covered in pee and poop, never leaving our property and becoming a raging alcoholic so that I don't care that I am covered in pee and poop and sentenced to house arrest with a two year old.

Or Punkin' could see the light and this could be over by tomorrow.

Yeah, right......

Happy Father's Day

Happy Father's Day to all of you Dad's out there. I know the 0 Dads who read my blog will appreciate the sentiment.

I baked DH a cake for Father's Day. He likes chocolate cake so I made chocolate. Not Duncan Hines, not Betty Crocker, but a real chocolate cake from scratch, made with real chocolate and real butter.

And real blood, sweat and tears from his wonderful wife (that would be me).

I haven't made a cake from scratch in close to ten years, so I had forgotten that it can be quite involved and time consuming. Top that off with realizing at about 9:30 pm that I had the wrong kind of chocolate, the wrong cocoa, and not enough butter. So after a trek to Publix (closed) and Bruno's (open, but sucked), I got started baking at about 11:00 pm.

Well, I was through baking and decorating at about 4:50 am. The decorating was pretty slip shod as I could hardly stay awake. Yes, my shells look like they were the ones left on the beach which no one wanted. But hey, a chocolate cake from scratch with a lot of time and care for DD to wake up to. Chocolate cake, chocolate buttercream icing, yuuuum.

I don't care for chocolate cake, but as far as chocolate cakes go, I have to admit it was pretty tasty. Moist, tender, chocolaty, not too sugary.

From scratch cake.

From scratch icing.

Up until 5am.

DH says I could have bought a cake mix.

Next Father's Day he can eat a damn twinkie.

The Mind of a Two Year Old

My Punkin' has really been a hoot here lately. Always something funny coming out of his mouth.

When I was having my miscarriage he went and stayed with his Aunt for a couple of days. I guess he had fun there jumping on the bed (can't do at home), running around outside bare foot (not at home), etc, etc.

He seemed very glad to see his Mommy when he came home though, so all was well. Then Saturday night this happens:

He puts on his crocs.

He grabs his two three foot tall, blow up pink flamingos.

He announces "I'm going to Auntie's".

"But I have to get my purse."

Yes, he said he had to get his purse.

He then got the little green cloth goody bag he got at the same birthday party where he snagged the pink flamingos, put it over his shoulder and went to the door. I told him it was a long way to Auntie's house, that he had better start walking.

He looked back and forth at me and Daddy and said :

"It's too late to go", put down his purse things and started watching tv.

I called Auntie to tell her what he had said, as she had been worried that he didn't have fun at her house because he was so glad to be home (???? - I told her that if she was as sweet as me her kids would be that glad to be home too!!). When I asked him if he wanted to talk to her he said

"No. It is too late to be on the phone."

I immediately had a flashback to my DD saying "Decent people (meaning me???) don't talk on the phone after 9:00".

I thought about putting Punkin' to bed without any supper just to prove a point.

But it was too late.

The Not So Grand Finale Cake

You remember the cake decorating class I was taking?

Well, in the emotional funk I was in while the pregancy hormones were still flowing, I skipped one of my classes and didn't do any of my homework.

Then the night I was going to stay up all night and make my flowers I took the pregnancy test (positive) and of course could no longer think about cakes or flowers or anything not pink or blue and soft and sweet smelling.

Next morning I am up and begin making my flowers for my last class. Now these flowers are supposed to be made at least two days ahead of usage so that they can harden. Plus it is always helpful if you showed your sorry ass up for class to learn how to make them.

Anyway, I made flowers all day and this is how the cake turned out:

The flowers were soft and began to melt into the buttercream and I had no roses as I've skipped missed the night in both Class 1 and Class 2 where we learned how to make roses (how can you decorate cakes and not know how to make roses?), but I did like the purple daisys.

Now I need to order a sheet cake pan for my Punkin's birthday cake and start practicing. He wants this for his cake and hopefully it won't be too difficult and will turn out ok.

I'm attending a make up class, aka Roses for Slackers, and then I will be kicking the Wilton rose's ass!! Maybe Punkin's jungle cake will have nice spray of roses near the wildlife........

Woe is me.....Again

So what was the secret I just couldn't tell?

I was pregnant! Again! We weren't really spreading the news because that really bit us in the ass last time as I miscarried and we had told everyone we knew and a few people we didn't know.

Well, I'm not pregnant anymore. I have miscarried again. Second time in the last eight months. I started having problems on Sunday so - to try to find the positive side of things - at least this time I had some warning and was able to prepare myself. Not that that makes it much better, but it does help to prepare you for the inevitable a tiny bit.

I so want to have another baby before I am too old to bend over to change it's diaper! My doctor says it shouldn't be a problem, that at this point statistics are on my side, blah, blah, blah. We'll see.

I remember when I was younger hearing people talk about "biological clocks". What a joke I thought it was.

Now if someone could just get mine to quit ticking........

Tick tock tick tock tick tock