Showing posts with label madness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label madness. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Santa Has Left The Building

What a Christmas Eve we had yesterday!

There was no snow, of course, but it still was an amazing day. Despite the fact all four of us wanted snow more than anything and my youngest twin kept saying, "If we had snow that would be the most awesome gift ever!"

Speaking of gifts I got the most amazing gift from my children. I got a little bear with a santa hat and bag that opens to put candy in. Bless their little hearts they all pitched in to get me this little stuffed bundle of joy.



We went into the store, got our last minute items for dinner and we were out in the parking lot. My son says to me, "MOM! WE FORGOT THE EGG NOG!" I was walking towards the van, and was going to just stop at Walgreen's but then I realized that would require another trip getting out of the van for the kids(seating arrangements... they all have to sit directly behind me in the middle row for some reason I didn't want to hear it) so I just decided to go back in. I literally ran to the back of the store and got the egg nog, thankfully some nice couple there informed me that the bigger size was on sale and cheaper than the size I had in my hand, I thanked them and ran back to the cashier almost running into some woman's cart in the process. I smiled and apologized and kept running like my ass was on fire.

Paid for the egg nog and left just as quick as I could.

We all had an amazing dinner of turkey, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes with gravy, crescent rolls and some spinach and artichoke dip for an appetizer.  I even bought them a two-liter of soda for the special night. And I finally remembered the damn egg nog.

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I wanted to stay up well past midnight, but barely made it. See, Santa hadn't made his visit yet. I passed out on the couch and awoke an hour later to use the bathroom and lo' and behold Santa happened to visit at that exact moment. *wink*  I went back to sleep only to awaken around 7:30 and nudged my kids up to see the gifts below the tree.

Score!

Another year with Santa in our home.  I don't want my children missing the magic of Santa. If I could make them believe in him well into their twenties my job as a mother will be a huge success.

However, kids usually stop believing around 11 or 12 and then Santa no longer visits. I told my kids "If you don't believe why should he leave you gifts?" My youngest twin son said to me "Mom, if there's gifts under that tree tomorrow, I'll believe in him." 

My daughter still believes. We tracked Santa all night long on that Norad site. He was in Uruguay, Barbados, Ecuador, Detroit, then some how he back tracked to Asia somewhere after Detroit. I don't understand Santa's travel plans, but as long as that fat elf lands in our home each year I don't care how long it takes him to do it. 

Yes, my children may come across my blog sometime. So remember kids, next year you need to make sure you continue to believe.  Or all you'll be left with on Christmas morning is a big fat bag of coal, or...perhaps...reindeer poop on the patio to clean up.

That wouldn't be fun to play with now would it?

I still have to go get more batteries. I don't want to venture out today. I thought I would actually have a day where I wouldn't have to drive ANYWHERE. No such luck. My daughter got a Hello Kitty Bubble blower and it requires two AAA batteries, you know the ones that aren't that common in kids toys these days.  I had double A's just no Triple ones.

Ugh.

And I have a rant here. A mini-rant that is. I won't make this a long-winded rant because, well, it's Christmas. Don't want the scrooge in me coming out en mass. Okay, so we open the kids gifts last night, wouldn't ya know it, stupid screw on the back to get the batteries in the boys' helicopters and R/C cars require a screwdriver that only a gnat would use. 

Who thinks up this stuff?

Who is sitting there, putting these toys together and says "Hey, let's make screws small enough on kids toys that even a kid can't unscrew them. Let's tighten them as tight as possible so that when the parent tries, well, they are...literally...screwed! Ha ha ha ha ha!!" They laugh in their little tiny shop of madness as they begin to devise their next plan of those plastic restraints that they put on toys so tight that you need a chainsaw to break them open.

Seriously.

Who do I contact about this issue?

And for the record, twisty ties were meant for garbage bags, loaves of bread and tying bird cage doors closed, NOT for a kid's toy.

My son practically had a meltdown...scratch that...he had an actual meltdown last night. Couldn't get the battery cover off the back of his car. We tried a knife, we tried scissors and we even tried a pairing knife they got from Halloween at their dad's house.

No luck.

Finally the youngest twin opened his car battery compartment with...get this...a Capri Sun Straw.

I kid you not.

This is a true story. One you may not find on Snopes, but it's the truth. And if snopes wants to find out if it worked they can come on over and my youngest twin will show them.

So after feeding the oldest twin some chocolate to calm him down while he waited for his younger twin to help him, we finally managed to make his car run.

Then came the helicopters.

I nearly lost an eyelash!

Well, not really but I came pretty damn close to losing one.

Those helicopters were all over our living room last night.  Remember, I am in an apartment, not a house with cathedral ceilings mind you, but a small apartment that barely fits what furniture we have in it. So picture if you will two boys trying to fly their helicopters around this place. I kept on reminding them I had dishwater in the sink I had to drain with a pan soaking so they better be careful where they fly those things or we'll have a drowning on one of their missions here.

We had two near misses.

And then I had to deal with my boys fighting over which channel they wanted to use. There was A, B, and C. Of course for whatever reason they both wanted B. I was ready to have them flip a coin but they finally stopped yelling at each other and the oldest twin gave in and went to C. Kudos to you son.

My daughter, meanwhile, is quietly enjoying her toys on the living room floor. She didn't have a care in the world. She was in her own little world of make believe and I sat down on the couch behind her and she hopped up next to me, barking poodle and unicorn in hand and we just sat there watching A Christmas Story. She told me Merry Christmas and said she loved me. I told her Merry Christmas and that I loved her too.

Then they all told me how this was the best Christmas Eve ever.

That made me smile.

Because when you're a single mom, that is the biggest worry the whole year round...the most pressing question in most single parents minds are, "Will I be able to afford Christmas this year?"

Somehow, someway I did it. And this year I won't be depressed like I was last year, because this year I made it financially to be able to pay my bills AND take care of Christmas.

I am blessed.

I am forever grateful.

We definitely have a guardian angel watching over us.  And we definitely are rich no matter how many coins are on the bottom of my purse before pay day. Because although I am not rolling in money or material things, and I drive a van that isn't always reliable, one thing is for sure, me and my little family here have all the love and joy a family could ask for.  It's not the material things that make us rich, but the love we all share with each other, especially around the holidays.

Despite the occasional madness, my children and I have the best gift ever....we are all together for the holidays and every day after.

If only I could say that about the rest of my children.

Maybe....some day...that gift will come too.

Merry Christmas!








Sunday, September 1, 2013

Was It Really The Worst Day Ever?

*Wrote this last night, had to proof it before I posted it...good thing I did too*

This had to be the most craziest day ever.

My oldest twin and I were saying to one another how this day was the "worst day ever"( I can think of other "worsts" but we won't go there right now).

I have yet to shower. My hair is sticking to my forehead, despite the fact I have a ponytail thing goin' on here, little strands are annoying me to no end.

My day started out with the usual....French Vanilla coffee of the Folger's variety and a few Oreos; a little bit o' Papa Pear on Facebook and some news updates on CNN and weather from the Weather Channel as there were storms all around here.    Decided I was going to clean my daughter's and sons rooms(with their help of course) and let me say it was like a tornado ripped through both the rooms.  I'm not kidding.  It was bad in there.

We begin the cleaning adventure and I noticed a line of ants along the baseboard from my daughter's room starting in her closet going to her brothers' adjoining room next door. GREAT!  SWELL! What other fun things will await me on this dismal Saturday morning? Never, ever ask that question....EVERRRRRRRR! So I realized instead of this being a one day weekend cleaning spree, it was turning into the 3 day cleaning spree/ant battle that I hadn't had since the beginning of summer. I thought we were rid of these wretched little piss ants(ha ha get it, piss ants?? Bad play on words.... huh?..yeah...). 

I wanted to just pour a whole gallon of bleach on those smarmy little bastards and light a match.  Okay not really, I'm not Bruce Willis or Denzel Washington, but I was really pissed off when I saw them.

My daughter and I began the daunting task of getting all her clothes she had stuffed in her crates and under blankets out of the closet, away from the infestation and I had laundry up to my ears by the time we were done. She had dolls with broken arms, papers upon papers strewn in piles everywhere all the way to her Ariel vanity set. She had clothes she never wore, and clothes that were too small, ripped or stained too badly for me to care to wash them.  So we tossed them. It was a good two hour ordeal, and I was glad when we finally finished up in there. 

I also had to hit the grocery store. I needed a few things, one being Gogurt for the kids lunches. Getting the kids ready for a simple ten minute trip to the store took a good twenty minutes. Then the boys started in on each other and I was roasting my ass off in this apartment .  The air never seems to run properly when people are inside the apartment.  It's nice and cool for the birds during the day when we aren't here, but for some reason, by the time the sun sets and we are all relaxing, we are all sweating our asses off around here.

We get in the van and head to the store....HALF AN HOUR LATER....I get my few items I needed and we are leaving and my boys spot the little candy/toy addicts machines and like crazed gamblers in front of a slot machine they are plunking their quarters in, then pacing in front of the machines, deciding which fares better for the eight quarters that aligned the palm of their not so little hands. Other kids are waiting and I am telling them(in a not so quiet inside voice) "Let's go already! I have frozen food in here! There are other kids waiting behind you anyway!"

I also had realized I never did get the damn Gogurts either.  I wasn't about to go back to get them.

Crap.

I finally peel them away and we get into the van and head home.

Their dad decided to purchase them a 100 count pack of Latex gloves. I don't know what the hell 9 year old boys need an entire box of latex gloves for, but that is what they brought to my apartment last night. And as tired as I was after the day I had at work yesterday, it didn't register what he bought them until they started filling them with water in my bathroom sink at 8:00 last night.

This morning, same deal, they had another meeting with the gloves, sink and my bathroom floor. My youngest twin son yells to me "Mom, come quick! Something happened!" I go strolling in there, not wanting to look, and there underneath the cabinet and all over my floor between the toilet and front/side of the cabinet was water.  Not splashes of water, but puddles of water.

I wanted to cry.

Then I called the office, this was at 12:47 and of course nobody was there.

Lunch, I am sure.

Call back at 1:02.
No answer.

Call back at 1:30....
*tries to find my happy place at this point*

By the third call my son had chased down the head maintenance guy in his little maintenance guy cart and I am chasing after my son, phone in hand, to stop him. I see the guy swerve around in the cart and heading back my way. I'm half way between the guy and my apartment and I apologize and tell him I was going to call the office for a work order, and he offers to look since he was here already.

Thank God this guy was nice. He laughed so hard when I asked the boys if they put anything in the pipes and they shrugged and looked like innocent guilty parties. He was so understanding. Thank you maintenance guy.

He leaves and I go out on my front porch.

I'm sitting there and I notice a faint propane like smell permeating my front porch. Lovely. I'm thinking okay, what the hell is that? Gas leak??

Neighbor and her ex are talking and I ask them to see if they smell(is that an oxymoron..."See" if they "smell"?? see, the fumes are getting to me, my brain is going bonkers now) a smell of any gas or propane like smell. Her hubby proceeds to tell me that he has a good nose and he didn't smell a thing.  I on the other hand, with my one nostril barely smelling anything caught a waft of what the kids smelled only they said it was REALLY STRONG MOM, and no offense to my neighbor's ex, but I'm gonna go with my kids and my gut on this one.

So I call the gas company. I tell them I didn't think it was an emergency but I wasn't sure. It didn't have that rotten egg smell but rather a propane like smell. She tells us all the safety measures: exit the building and go to a safe area,  don't light any matches, don't turn on any switches, I had already turned off the A/C, and if imminent danger arises call 911.

Did I really need to share that? Probably not, but might help someone else out should they encounter a gas leak themselves some day, *shrugs*, maybe...maybe not.

So there we were, not only did I not finish any of my housework, it is now close to 4 p.m at this point and I had only gotten half the army of ants terminated, baits placed, and trash taken out. I still had the boys room to do, my bathrooms, my bedroom and vacuum the living room. I hadn't cleaned the bird cage  yet, which was something else on the "to do list" for today.

Sorry birds, we'll clean ya out tomorrow.

We are sitting outside waiting for the gas folk to come, and it starts to sprinkle. Wonderful. My battery on my house phone is just about dead, and my cell is no better. My hair is now plastered to my forehead and my shirt and shorts follow suit.

I was looking really pretty.

Let me say to all you folks out there whose mothers told you "Be sure to wear clean underwear in case of an accident" well, let me add to that list. They should have also told you that you should make sure you pretend your superwoman when the gas guy is on his way and shove everything you own in a cabinet or closet until he leaves. I was mortified.  He asked to come in.  I didn't understand. It turned out the gas leak was from my neighbor's apartment and not mine. I was cleaning like crazy, throwing laundry in the laundry room, using those Clorox wipes to wipe down the toilet and the sink. 

I did the best I could. I kept saying out loud, "Okay dude, just flirt with my nice single neighbor a little longer, so I could fix this place up a bit."

No such luck.

He's knocking on my door and my forehead is dripping with sweat from me running around like a crazed chicken, I wipe the sweat from my brow, take a deep breath and let him in. He asks me again if he can enter my home and I say sure come on in.  He asks to enter my daughter's room and I tell him sure no problem. He kept calling me ma'am and I wanted to tell him "Look dear, I know we'll probably chat a total of 3-5 minutes here, but please don't call me ma'am."

Did I mention he was a nice lookin fella? Probably old enough to be my oldest son's best friend, say 27-32, plus or minus a few years, hard to tell these days.  He could of been older, he kind of looked it around the eyes, but I'm not sure. Plus the fact he kept calling me ma'am. Couldn't be certain he was as young as I thought he was to tell ya the truth.

Speaking of men....That's one thing that scares me about guys and  dating too. Some guys look older than they are, and some look younger.  I don't feel like getting arrested or finding a sugar daddy either.  So yet another reason why I am single and not out there in the dating pool.

Thanks gas fella for helping me bring up this topic in my blog.

Speaking of single and dating....have you all seen the new dating bracelets?  It's for the younger crowd of course, but I think it's a great idea.  Would you wear one?

So, where was I?

I got sidetracked with the dating thingy up there.

Damn gas fumes.

It is now 6:40. I managed to fill the sink with water and dishes. Only tons of cups my kids have used throughout the day and a spoon and a few bowls from some cereal they had for a snack this afternoon. We didn't even really have an actual lunch today. I'm starving and I know they are too. So I need to get off this thing and go make some dinner. It's spaghetti night; garlic bread, spaghetti, salad...yum! Top it off with some melted sprinkle cheese. Delish!


I will also probably have to make more Kool-Aid. I made a whole gallon of it and shared about 3/4 of the gallon with six other kids that are friends of my kids. Then the one little girl, was like a damn addict over here, kept coming in with my daughter, which fine, seconds are okay, I filled them half full, but after the 3rd trip in I told my daughter, "That's it, no more!" and I see that other girl trying to squeeze some out even after I said that.

I'm cracking up thinking about it now.

Kool-aid junkies....

Alrighty then...off I go to make some dinner and MAYBE relax this evening. Boys room will have to wait until tomorrow. I have not the energy nor the time to deal with that disaster. Mop my floor vacuum my living room and call it a day.


I need to go!