What is it about house ownership that is so fantastic? Why is it that when someone doesn’t own their house they’re somewhat looked down upon? Pffft. You don’t OWN your house? Tell me. What is so fuckin’ great about ownership? You get to deal with mould in the basement, the yard needing a new fence, the diveway (yes, that was intentional) needing to be replaced. What’s so wonderful about that? And to top it all off we have to be responsible for taking out the trash, shoveling the driveway, cutting the grass and doing something about the gawd awful “garden” that was as overgrown as … well, my nether regions I’ve been meaning to trim up, when I have a moment…

So, tell me, what do you love SOOO much about the fact that you own your house, because truthfully, I can’t think of a damn thing.

This morning after Carter’s bath I went to the basement to be greeted by a huge puddle on the carpet and a sagging ceiling tile that is threatening to explode revolting bathwater as soon as it’s touched.

Fucking great.

A fitting is cracked on a pipe, which is not a HUGE deal, just a royal pain in the ass. Hopefully it’s a small job and just a couple ceiling tiles will need replacing.

Couldn’t Mike do it? You ask. Well, Mike is about as handy with household stuff as he is a programming computers. Did I mention that he was able to erase an ENTIRE hard drive and not know what he did? Yeah. Handy. But give him a piece of heavy equipment - a crane, a drill rig, or a loader - then he can actually accomplish something besides destructing it.

Thank God for the fact that we have a contractor friend who is on the way over because, dammit, I wanna have a shower. I think I smell like something the cat dragged in (not mine though, he’s such a damn chicken shit).

That title sounded so much better in my head.

Mommy-brain is definitely here to stay. My beloved, and once useful, brain has shrunken to the size of a walnut.

Seriously.

I can hear it roll around when moving my head from side to side. The hamster has fallen off the wheel; it’s taken up with the walnut, trying to crack it’s shell.

I can’t remember a damn thing lately. I asked a coworker about another coworkers whereabouts this week - everyday so far! Today when I asked he told me, “He’s on vacation Sam, just like yesterday and the day before.”

All I could do was laugh. It’s THAT bad.

:::

I slept through my alarm once again this morning. I am an absolute bitch without 8 hours of sleep; lately it’s been turning into 9 hours or more. I go to bed at 9pm and still can’t get my ass up at a reasonable time. What can I say, I love my sleep, I’ll take it when I can get it.

But I will say this, I have a love hate relationship with the snooze button. I don’t know if I should kiss the creator of the sacred button, or drag their ass out back and beat ‘em.

:::

I was tagged by none other the gorj and ever so sweet Haley-O today! So here it is:

Five Reasons Why I Blog

1. It’s something I can do for me. It’s a release in so many ways. I can be creative with my writing, which in turn has really taught me to better express myself and my feelings.2. I love to “meet” new people and know that I am not alone (since many would rather blog about the anti-depressants, hard parenting moments and loneliness instead of sharing with girlfriends over a cup of coffee).

3. It’s actually a lot of fun; I enjoy reading everyones posts.

4. I’m more open online then IRL. I think it’s the thought of being “safe” behind the computer screen.

5. I’ve met such great people and continue to on a daily basis. That makes it all worth it.

So, I tag… HBM, Blonde Chick Bloggin’, and Bella Mommy

Now, off to watch America’s Next Top Model. I just LOVE the way Nigel Barker says my name. I’d totally hit that.

Hey, hey! Back again!

How’s the party? Hope you’re getting around (in a good way) and mingling. I’ve been working for a bit on this and this today I tell ya, I am soooo worth hiring. You’d be very well taken care of and for a great price too. Are you tempted? … now I am off to mingle. All work and no play make me want to drink more.

:::

Carter and I had a play date this afternoon with my friend from work and her little boy. So fun. Drank (more) wine and gossiped while the boys played around each other. Since they are both a little young grasp the concept of playing together, they kinda play in the same vicinity which is fine by me.
It’s amazing to see the difference in social skills between the two. Carter is a daycare child and her son stays home with her husband. Her son is an absolute doll and perfect in every way, there’s just this difference in the way they interact with their surroundings. They are 3 months apart in age, which I think, also still plays apart even though the developmental gap is closing.

While driving home from my friend’s, I was thinking about the Cocktail Playdates. Now I, personally, don’t feel guilty or like I am neglecting my child if I sit to have a drink with a friend while in the same room as our children playing. I don’t want to get started on this topic; it’s beating a dead horse as far as I’m concerned. It’s been bludgeoned by now actually.
But I was thinking about the perception we are giving others. When I blog about the fact that I had a drink with my friend, do people assume that I am neglecting my child for a chance to socialize with friends or that I am a bad parent because I chose wine over Diet Coke?

When Carter was a mere 7 months old we met frequently with a mom group. We were a bunch of moms on Maternity Leave and met while taking a baby yoga class. When the class ended we decided to keep seeing each other.
Every week we would rotate houses and have snack and drinks (never alcohol) and chat while the kids played (if you can call it that at that age). One Monday we decided to get out and went for a walk by the lake. We ended our venture at a restaurant/pub and we all had a drink (alcoholic).

I never thought anything of it, until my drive home today.

Six moms with children in strollers, all under the age of 8 months. In. A. Bar.

I can hear the whispers now.

No, not Irreverent Antisocial Intellectual’s husband. Me. I am kickin’ ass and taking names this evening.

I am in the most hateful, vengeful, bitchy mood tonight, I just have to get it out.

Manchild was so great today. My heart was exploding with love this morning as he called to tell me about his venture out with Carter.
Seeing as Manchild was home from work , he opted to keep Carter home from daycare. They went for a walk to a near by hill for some sledding. Even though all the snow that had arrived in a matter of minutes yesterday had melted just as fast as the rain poured down at dawn, Manchild thought they would at least get in a run or two down the hill. Once they arrived he realized that nothing but a slushy mess had accumulated at the base of the hill so they returned home, a little defeated but spirits high.
By the sounds of it, they had a great day together; went grocery shopping and all!

I had a great day at work. Nothing stressful, I was inside and had a chance to have lunch with some girlfriends. I left work feeling relaxed and content. The traffic was great, everything was just peachy.

I asked Mike to take a trip to IKEA with me so I could show him the big boy bedding that I wanted to get for Carter and buy some baskets. I really didn’t think it was such a burdensome request, but that’s where it all went downhill.

One thing you should know about my husband is, he can be the most selfish person I know. It infuriates me to no end when he won’t do something unless there’s a benefit for him. Sometimes it would be nice for him to stuck it up and do something because it makes ME happy. It can be anything little from a song on the radio to a trip to a store he hates. (That store, being IKEA.) He will be pushy, snide, inconsiderate and just plain difficult to deal with. It’s like he’s pouting because it’s not something HE wants to do.

As we’re driving there’s a song on the radio that I like, I turn it up a little and he changes the channel.
Me: “I like that song; I was listening to that.” I change it back.
Him: “I hate that song.” And he changes it to another station again.
I let it go even though I felt like smashing his head through the windshield.

He did agree to go to the store; no whining or begging on my part, even though he had NO interest in IKEA at all but he made bitchy comments the whole way through the store,
“That’s fuckin’ ugly.”
“Why the fuck would someone buy something like that?”
“I hate this fuckin’ place.”
“Are you done yet?”…

I wanted to rip his beady little eyes from his miss-shaped skull within minutes. We finally arrive at the children’s section. I show him the bedding that I was in love with and thought that it would be perfect because it was right up Manchild’s alley - dragons and knights.

What does he say?

“That’s it? It’s fucking ugly as hell Sam.”

Great. Thanks. Asshole.

I’m frustrated, he’s frustrated, Carter’s getting hot. Manchild freaks out and insists that we get the hell out of there.

On the way home we’re listening to some fucking teeny bopper horrible dance shit. I change the channel, not realizing that Manchild was actually enjoying it. He changes it back. Always whatever he wants.

I commented that he changed the station on the way to the store because there was a song that he didn’t like, and if I do the same it’s the end of the world.

He says “Are you done talking?”

Oh.

My.

God.

I can’t even stand to look at him right now.

Am I really out of line? Am I blowing this out of proportion?

One thing I do notice though. When I forget to take my medication (which I did the past two days) my ability to cope with my husband is more and more difficult. I think cruel and vengeful thoughts and can’t stand to be in the same room as him when he is like this.

I shouldn’t have to be medicated to enjoy spending time with my husband.

Wine should be enough.