I speak Momaniese, it's a very complicated dialect, one that my children have not as yet been able to grasp. Their defense against this sophisticated language barrier, is to either stare through me as if I've never spoken at all, or give me a bewildered lost look, whilst backing slowly away. The Hubster calls it something else entirely, to him it's just referred to as *bitching*.
The barrier usually occurs when the kids are asked to perform a specific task. Nothing too complicated mind you, like standing on their heads while folding laundry... Their not monkeys for cripes sake ('cripes sake' is a form of cursing my Italian Grandma Aka, "Nonie" would use when upset in any way, shape or form. This was usually directly related to something my sister and I did.... I know, I'm shocked too! I was a veritable angel!! *cough*), but, I digress... The blank stare is normally given when any or all of them are asked to either:
A.) clean their room(s)
B.) put their clothes/toys away
or *gasp*
C.) wash a few dishes (this is generally where my oldest cries. Seriously!! He cries, that's his defense!!).
No, I don't expect the two younger monsters to do the dishes, they just play in the water and soak my floor thinking their *helping* me, until I cut my losses and we agree that dishes and baths ended up as one and the same and we call it a night. Usually, The oldest is still in tears at this point because not only did he have to do the few measly dishes I left him, but, he also had to do them with his younger brother and sister. (Insert evil laugh here).
To get to this point it takes a LOT of yelling, with a few pleading looks thrown Hubsters way. THIS my friends is the really frustrating part, where Hubs then gives me the token blank stare and states calmly, as if speaking to a lunatic, "If I don't listen to you when you bitch (translation, *yell*), then why would you expect the kids to?". Ugh! The whole famdamily deserves a kick to the head, especially me for insisting they cooperate when I KNOW they won't. Thus creating my own circle of Hell.
So, that my friends, is Momaniese. Complex and cryptic to both kids and Hubsters alike. Do any of you speak my language? I'm looking to start a new colony, one with little to no frustration... Or kids...
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Friday, December 30, 2011
So, I'm sure some of you are wondering why my sweet angelic 4 year old Charlie, is referred to as the Demon Spawn. Well, let me assure you, that in his four years on this earth, he has totally earned the nick name and quite a few of my (many) posts to come will explain, in detail, why. Here's one for starters.
1st week of school, Charlie is on the cusp of turning 4, and in desperation of fitting in with his older siblings, has insisted on wearing his buzz lightyear backpack while both dropping and picking up Audie and Sam to and from school. An altercation occurs on the playground, while I'm *busy* chattng with friends. I can see Charlie gripping his backpack straps to his little chest as I hear his voice rising in anger, yet strain as I might, the actual words are swept away by the wind. He’s up against four older boys creating a ring around him. I’m deciding to intervene, when I notice the boys leave (As if the hounds of Hell were upon them. Little did I know at the time how fitting this description would be!). This is when my (then, 5 yr old) Audie approaches me.
Auds, tugging on my shirt: "Mom, Charlie said a bad word."
Me, giving her the brush-off: " really, I doubt it was anything serious."
Auds: "Mom, he did!" (Very earnest)
Me, sighing heavily: "Fine, what did he say?"
Auds as she leans in to whisper in my ear: "He said, “Get your hands off me you bastards”.
Me, resigned to the fact that he is a Demon Spawn, yells: "He said what?!" then I can be heard to screech, "Chaaarrrrllllieeeee!!!!!!!!"
That my friends is just *one* of the reasons why my sweet baby boy, with the twinkling eyes is indeed a demon spawn. More stories to follow.
1st week of school, Charlie is on the cusp of turning 4, and in desperation of fitting in with his older siblings, has insisted on wearing his buzz lightyear backpack while both dropping and picking up Audie and Sam to and from school. An altercation occurs on the playground, while I'm *busy* chattng with friends. I can see Charlie gripping his backpack straps to his little chest as I hear his voice rising in anger, yet strain as I might, the actual words are swept away by the wind. He’s up against four older boys creating a ring around him. I’m deciding to intervene, when I notice the boys leave (As if the hounds of Hell were upon them. Little did I know at the time how fitting this description would be!). This is when my (then, 5 yr old) Audie approaches me.
Auds, tugging on my shirt: "Mom, Charlie said a bad word."
Me, giving her the brush-off: " really, I doubt it was anything serious."
Auds: "Mom, he did!" (Very earnest)
Me, sighing heavily: "Fine, what did he say?"
Auds as she leans in to whisper in my ear: "He said, “Get your hands off me you bastards”.
Me, resigned to the fact that he is a Demon Spawn, yells: "He said what?!" then I can be heard to screech, "Chaaarrrrllllieeeee!!!!!!!!"
That my friends is just *one* of the reasons why my sweet baby boy, with the twinkling eyes is indeed a demon spawn. More stories to follow.
My Insane Life x3, the introduction
A little bit about myself, 2012 marks 16 years that the Hubster and I have been trapped, err, happily married and 21 yrs together total. We met at junior college where Hubs swept me off my feet. Nah, I'm just messing with ya, in all actuality we couldn't stand each other, kinda like now... He took a while to warm up to my charm (to know me is to love me. My father assures me this saying is totally true in my case. Ummm, thanks Dad?!) and I resigned myself to turning a blind eye to his hideous fashion sense (Hubsters, not Dad's. Though their both equally challenged). Two words, snakeskin boots. *shudder*. Once the Hubs and I met in the middle, we discovered we shared a rather bizarre sense of humor and since we despaired of anyone else truly getting us, we had no other recourse but to fall in love. I'm sensing Disney's gonna pick up on this someday and make a princess movie outta my life. *g*
We have three (yes, three!!) adorable monsters- side note: We're totally in accord in thinking the youngest one's a demon spawn. *sigh*. They each have been equally gifted with our sense of humor. A typical weekend would find us all chasing each other around the house wrestling and tormenting one another. Literally. We delight in finding what irritates each other and using it randomly on the unsuspecting victim (Someday they may very well find themselves in therapy... Oops!). The monsters range in age of boy-10, girl-6 and demon spawn, ahem, boy-4. They're beautiful, intelligent and annoying as fuck, but their ours and we love 'em.
I grew up a cops daughter, so that explains a lot (and I mean ALOT, just ask Hubs!) of my neuroses, as well as my obsession with 48 hrs mystery. Umm, let's see.... Zombies scare the poop outta me, especially this new breed of the undead on TV. Yikes! When for the love of God, did zombies morph into agile capable individuals with olympic runner abilities?! Don't worry, I have a back up plan, especially if the Hubs gets afflicted (the escape route is completely planned out, no lie!), then it's double tap! Again, cops daughter, hello?!?! Okay, and Tallahassee *might* just be mine and the demon spawns hero.
I despise rude people, would it kill you to NOT leave a car length between you and the car in front of you while stopped at a red light and blocking all traffic with intentions of making a right turn, from said turning lane?! I could go postal while driving, I truly could. Lucky for me the 4 yr old likes to co pilot and keep me in check. Yeah, *lucky*.
Don't even get me started on entitled a-holes that walk around with a boulder on their shoulder, thinking the world owes them because they can't seem to pull their heads outta their asses. I could elaborate, but, I'm thinking you get my drift.
My favorite saying when someone pisses me off, is they deserve a kick to the head. I imagine myself as a super ninja, that can dispense a kick to any offensive individuals head, with stealth like agility. If you piss me off, I day dream about this scenario. In. Detail. However, the sad reality is that this has never been attempted, at least not by me. Who has time to deal with court orders and such...
I work as a Unit Assistant at a local Hospital. Which shouldn't be confused with a CNA. Essentially, we're one and the same, but since I lack a certificate, they get paid a dollar an hr more than me. Even though I've been known to train their asses when hired. Good thing I'm not bitter, huh? In all seriousness, I do love my job. The feeling of helping those in *need* is gratifying. However, there are moments (that comes with everyone's job) where the vibe is not so much gratifying, as it is down right degrading. Yep, I'm livin' the dream peeps. I've got a family that loves me and a job that needs me.
Enough about me, especially when there's so many more interesting things to discuss! Then again, the title of this blog is MY insane life...
For those of you that have read this ridiculous intro in it's entirety, you rock! For those that felt the need to skim, you *might* deserve a kick to the head. I haven't as yet decided... Cheers!
We have three (yes, three!!) adorable monsters- side note: We're totally in accord in thinking the youngest one's a demon spawn. *sigh*. They each have been equally gifted with our sense of humor. A typical weekend would find us all chasing each other around the house wrestling and tormenting one another. Literally. We delight in finding what irritates each other and using it randomly on the unsuspecting victim (Someday they may very well find themselves in therapy... Oops!). The monsters range in age of boy-10, girl-6 and demon spawn, ahem, boy-4. They're beautiful, intelligent and annoying as fuck, but their ours and we love 'em.
I grew up a cops daughter, so that explains a lot (and I mean ALOT, just ask Hubs!) of my neuroses, as well as my obsession with 48 hrs mystery. Umm, let's see.... Zombies scare the poop outta me, especially this new breed of the undead on TV. Yikes! When for the love of God, did zombies morph into agile capable individuals with olympic runner abilities?! Don't worry, I have a back up plan, especially if the Hubs gets afflicted (the escape route is completely planned out, no lie!), then it's double tap! Again, cops daughter, hello?!?! Okay, and Tallahassee *might* just be mine and the demon spawns hero.
I despise rude people, would it kill you to NOT leave a car length between you and the car in front of you while stopped at a red light and blocking all traffic with intentions of making a right turn, from said turning lane?! I could go postal while driving, I truly could. Lucky for me the 4 yr old likes to co pilot and keep me in check. Yeah, *lucky*.
Don't even get me started on entitled a-holes that walk around with a boulder on their shoulder, thinking the world owes them because they can't seem to pull their heads outta their asses. I could elaborate, but, I'm thinking you get my drift.
My favorite saying when someone pisses me off, is they deserve a kick to the head. I imagine myself as a super ninja, that can dispense a kick to any offensive individuals head, with stealth like agility. If you piss me off, I day dream about this scenario. In. Detail. However, the sad reality is that this has never been attempted, at least not by me. Who has time to deal with court orders and such...
I work as a Unit Assistant at a local Hospital. Which shouldn't be confused with a CNA. Essentially, we're one and the same, but since I lack a certificate, they get paid a dollar an hr more than me. Even though I've been known to train their asses when hired. Good thing I'm not bitter, huh? In all seriousness, I do love my job. The feeling of helping those in *need* is gratifying. However, there are moments (that comes with everyone's job) where the vibe is not so much gratifying, as it is down right degrading. Yep, I'm livin' the dream peeps. I've got a family that loves me and a job that needs me.
Enough about me, especially when there's so many more interesting things to discuss! Then again, the title of this blog is MY insane life...
For those of you that have read this ridiculous intro in it's entirety, you rock! For those that felt the need to skim, you *might* deserve a kick to the head. I haven't as yet decided... Cheers!
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