For the past three weeks Mike has been on course for workwhich means that he is up with us in the morning as opposed to out the door at 5:30am.
It’s been GREAT for me! I sleep in (until 6am), have a leisurely shower, a chance to shave (if i want to. note to self: do it!), even get my make up and hair done; all without the whines of a toddler wanting a bottle and an ass change.
Since Mike’s been on course he offered to take on the morning responsibilities of getting Carter ready as well as pick up and drop off (I think he did it so that he can drive the better car). I’ve been loving the “vacation” from my usually so hectic mornings. Mike, not so much.

From the day I returned to work and took on the responsibility of getting Carter up and ready as well as daycare pick up and drop off. Mike always had some dig:

What are you complaining about, it’s not like it’s hard…
You have to dress him, sit him at the table and then take him to daycare, how hard can it be?
You’re always complaining about it, maybe if you were more organized…

For any parent that has a set time to get there shit together and get out of the house with a toddler in tow, you know what a feat this is.

Toddlers are one of the most unpredictable beings on the face of the earth. Forget the fuckin’ wild animals. No lion, tiger, shark, or even a ChowChow has anything on a stubborn, tired and picky toddler. You have to watch your back with these little ankle biters; for one second they are happy and laughing … then you utter words “Want breakfast?” all hell breaks loose and the kid loses his damn mind! I don’t think Carter is dealing well with having choices. If you tell him what he’s eating and tell him where to sit, he’s better off.

Mike has this thing with liberating a 20 month old and letting him make his own decisions. What he wants to eat, where he wants to sit, what fuckin’ spoon he wants to use! Granted it’s a great plan, but not always necessary and more times then not, it’s a hindrance.
After Mike goes through the list of choices of what colour spoon, what chair, what sippy cup the kids eyes are practically bugged out of his head, he’s delusional with hunger and annoyed to his very core. It’s a tailspin of utter chaos from that point on. The rest of their morning ends up with Carter crying and both of them frustrated.

Where am I? In the washroom, peacefully applying my make-up and smirking. I am so bad. He thinks it’s so damn easy. Sucker!

Now instead of him telling me that he understands how hard it really is and that he won’t assume how it easy it is anymore, you know, since he’s been in the situation… he says that I don’t do anything! Carter’s crying, won’t eat and all I do is ignore him without offering to help out. *sigh* Will I ever win?

Kids are temperamental and difficult, especially when they sense your frustration. It’s a lose lose battle as far as I’m concerned. Just keep your cool and realize that children don’t have concept of time.

See? Cool as a clam.

(Until I am back in the front line in 2 weeks.)

Let the vacation live on! I’m living this up as long as I can dammit!

Even as a child, I knew I wanted children. I’d be a good parent, always there, always understanding, never judging. At eight years old I was helping out in the infant room of the daycare centre that we attended before and after school. I loved - and still do - love babies.
During the summer, between grades 7 and 8, I stayed with my aunt after the birth of her second, to help out. Though, I may have been more of a hindrance since I was at that age where I didn’t comprehend how sacred nap time was; I wanted to play with the baby all. the. time. Now I understand how much more of a nuisance I may have, been then help.

When it came time in our lives to discuss having children many were surprised that I was the one putting on the brakes. I just wasn’t ready; I was enjoying the selfish and busy lifestyle and thought of a child as a road block. I assumed that my career would bomb and I would be stuck in a dead end job if I became a parent; that I would miss out on many of the things that other people my age were so enjoying.
But one day it clicked. I was on a business trip to Virginia which had extended from 2 weeks to one month. Long distance phone calls to home every night brought back many of the memories of when Mike was working out of town (more like on the other side of the country) for 5 months and how were weren’t enjoying this lifestyle anymore. It was time. Time to settle in, start a family and actually live together. I was definitely ready.

Now, as a parent, I wonder if I was truly ready. I am feeling that my career is at a stand still and that I am inevitably in a dead end job. There’s really no need to feel that way, because really, my career is not in a stand still at all.
I love Carter with all my heart, I am so glad that he’s here. So why do I find it so tedious to do bath time, to sit and watch the same shitty cartoons over and over, to play with him, to interact with him?
Last night I was ready to pack it in and walk away. Carter was miserable. His eye teeth are coming in; he was crying and whining from the second that he came in the door. He didn’t want to eat, he didn’t want to take his clothes off, he didn’t want a bath, he didn’t want a diaper on, he didn’t want to go to bed. Nothing was right. It took everything I had not to shake him and scream at him to SHUT UP!
I left him to cry in his crib for 15 minutes as I tried to relax while Mike just gave me that look of disapproval, as though I am a mess of a parent. I went back, took Carter from his crib and rocked him to sleep. I haven’t done that since he was an infant. Why? Why haven’t I done that? Am I the only one who can say I haven’t rocked my child to sleep in over a year (and he’s not even 2 yet)? Why do I feel so distant from my child lately, my own flesh and blood? For someone that has always loved children, I feel as though I’ve failed him.

My relationship with Mike is so different now with Carter in the picture. I heard that this happens, but I thought it won’t happen to us, and wasn’t prepared at all. Our relationship has somewhat turned into a business transaction. We work together to provide for our child, and lately, that’s about it. There’s no interaction after Carter’s in bed. I do my thing and Mike does his; we talk for about 5 minutes before bed, roll to our respected sides, backs to each other, and say goodnight.

This can’t be our life now! Can I survive another 30 years of this?

How could bringing another child into this type of relationship be healthy? How can raising the one we have be any good either? He may learn affection, love and happiness, but lately, it ain’t from us, especially from me.

This site seems to mesh well with what I am feeling lately. Take a peek, leave a comment, peruse other mom’s feelings! made me feel better already! I’m not alone! I’m. really. not. alone!

If it wasn’t enough that I was sitting her admiring my blog this afternoon because I so enjoy my new design, I also felt compelled to nominate someone for the Blogger’s Choice Awards. Yup. I nominated a little known blog, with a couple readers; a girl that tries her hardest even though she may not always be funny or witty. Some posts are long winded, others are almost as interesting as watching paint dry… then there are a couple that (I think) are good enough to make one pee their pants.

Yeah, loser here. I nominated myself. *shakes head* I didn’t read all the rules nor did pay full attention to what I was doing and started filling everything in… for myself. To my defense… it does say at the top that you’re allowed to nominate your own blog.

I’m a fucktard. I know. Seriously though. I admit it. I am a dirty dirty attention whore.

But if you’d be so obliged, you can vote for me too. I ain’t postin’ a link, I think I’ve whored myself out enough.

On the bright side.

Costco fucking rocks my socks.

We bought one of those FoodSaver vacuum thingies for all the bulk meat that we buy; because we’re a couple of savages and stock up like it’s going out of style. Well, the damn thing broke. It wouldn’t suck anymore (Mike says it’s like me, apparently I’m broken too - cuz I don’t suck anymore).
We didn’t have the box, let alone a receipt, so we were hesitant about taking it back. I figured they’d say: “No such luck. Idiots.”

But then I remembered THIS. It’s pretty much the funniest damn thing I’ve ever read. Go on, read it.

And low and behold they took it back. Costco gave us a brand new vacuum sucking thingy. So, all’s right with the world now. Mike is so utterly gitty he’s vacuum sealing just about anything he can find at the moment.

Maybe he can vaccum suck the fat outta mah ass fer me.

Carter’s eating habits are the absolute shits lately. My anxiety levels have reached an all time high over the fact that he will not eat anything that’s remotely healthy for him. He scoffs at anything that smells like a vegetable, gives The Royal Shove-off to meat - unless it is a breaded chunk of chicken-like-meat substance or pigs assholes. French fries - yes; baked potatoes - no. The kid will eat a plate of fuckin’ ketchup with a side of margarine if I let him.

For the past three days he’s consumed two chicken fingers (more ketchup then fingers since he likes to use the chicken as a dip stick to eat his ketchup), one 1″ x 1″ square of toast, a pancake dosed in margarine and syrup, and half a grape.
Considering all the crap he’s been eating lately, I’m surprised he hasn’t been shitting chucks of plastic or deformed chickens.

His father is partially to blame. Mike is a connoisseur of preservative laden “foods”. He will eat just about anything that has been prepackaged and riddled with chemicals. Most nights he makes dinner, it consists of something that is premade, precooked and frozen. I’m definitely not knocking it (too much); I too enjoy a good TV dinner once and a while. But every night makes for smelly asses that just won’t quit and a boulder-like blob in my stomach. *gag*

At the rate they’re going, Carter’s going to end up a mouth breathing, 100lbs three year old with the imprint of his ass developed into my couch cushions while him and his father take turns sharing the oxygen tank.

:::

I plan to answer more questions but I was a busy bee trying to get WordPress set up (Yes, I decided to make the change, though it’s a bit down the road yet) and workin’ on these new awesome digs; I’ll get to more questions. Promise.