The Lunatic Cafe

An explanation with a tear

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Wed, 29 May 2013 21:25:00 +0000

I've stared at this post for weeks. Well, months. I've written it and revised it a hundred times trying to figure out what was wrong. I finally realized it wasn't that I was getting things wrong because I wasn't. I was telling the truth, every last brutal detail which felt oooh so good to share. The problem? I was putting way too much effort into a post that didn't need it. You deserve an explanation for my silence over the last year and that is exactly what you are going to get.

The reason is pathetic and really unworthy of even discussing, I have to say up front. The quick version is, I offended my siblings by a post I had written, concerning my feelings of being hurt by them. To make amends, I decided to close down the blog for a bit as a peace offering. I also apologized for posting about what happened. One sister apologized for her part and we've been patching up our relationship ever since. The other hasn't. I'd love to tell you what she has and hasn't done, but like I said, it's rather pathetic plus doing so would give this more power then it has. Needless to say, she's proven that everything I said in that post was (and still is) completely true. She didn't deserve my kindness, or any that I have ever have shown to her. I hit my limit. I am pulling that band-aid off and letting it bleed baby. The end.

The funny thing about what happened is I realized I am doing pretty good without the constant 'my day sucks' posts. I looked at this blog as a way to release all my emotions, but instead of using it for good, I focused on the bad. It made posting anything positive close to impossible for me. I felt like I had to be negative. (I think I mentioned that a time or two) Yeah I have bad days every so often, but nothing like before. So this break, though hard to do at first, has been an awakening for me. It has freed me from so much pain and anger!

How cool is that? Something pathetic turned into something fucking awesome! Major tribal for that.

I can't say I'm back exactly, because I don't know if I can shake that 'must write morose, whiny posts' feeling. Plus, with my other blog, homeschooling Bailey now, book reviews and all the other stuff in my life, it may be hard to keep up with. So we will see what happens now.

This blog is very special to me so I can't shut it down completely anyway. This is where I shared my pain over losing my babies and where I shared the joy of the two I got to keep. There is too much history in these archives to throw away.

Anyway, sorry I was gone for so long and I didn't explain sooner. I missed you all.

Love,

Saying another goodbye

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Fri, 06 Jul 2012 15:34:00 +0000

Just a few days ago I lost my Uncle Gene. I'm still in shock and disbelief. He was 79, relatively healthy, until one thing after another snowballed and well now he's gone.

I don't care how old you are or how old the person is, losing someone is an emotional hell.

So far I'm ok though. I feel sad and that utterly lost feeling I always get when a death has occurred, but I'm ok. Tomorrow I probably won't be anymore...funerals always do me in.

I keep thinking that if he could, Uncle Gene would smack me upside the head for being said or even thinking about becoming sad. That's not how he worked. He was goofy, ornery and someone that you wanted to hang out with.

Did you know that he's the reason I have a fear of heights? LOL true story. See he was 6'3 or thereabouts and one of his favorite past times was putting me, who clearly took after my dad's side of the family by being really short, on top of things for giggles. Like the refrigerator. Or the top of the kitchen cabinets some 10 feet in the air. Which to a child of 4 was like 300 feet. He'd put me there then tell me to jump, that he'd catch me. I knew he would, he always did. He'd stare up at me with this ornery grin, while I was terrified and thinking that if I was just a bit bigger, I'd kick his butt for tormenting me. Don't think I hid from him whenever he came to visit, oh no, I gravitated toward this tall, funny man, just like everyone else did. I enjoyed his ornery side, even if he did scare me sometimes.

That is my all time favorite memory of him. I have many more, but I won't share them. Needless to say, when I think back to when I was little, I think of that man in the picture. I think of all the jokes he told, all the stories he told, all the holidays of trying to sneak a picture of him sleeping on the couch before he caught me. There are so many memories of him...

Uncle Gene, I miss you already. I miss talking history with you. I miss your jokes and laughter. I will miss you calling the turkeys and not being able to tell the difference between you and them. No one can sound like a turkey, quite like you did. I will miss your burned green beans (the only way I ever cook them thanks to you). I will miss hearing you say asspagrass for asparagus. I miss fishing with you. I miss riding around your farm, driving over huge piles of giant mulch and through the blueberries in your Mule (or whatever it was; some sort of supped up golf cart is the only way I can explain it). I could list everything, but I just miss you. I will forever miss you. I love knowing that you and I were a lot alike, and I will always treasure that. You weren't just Mama's big brother, you were a big brother to us all. Please take care of Grandma, Grandpa, Uncle Merle, Uncle Troy and the babies for me ok? Tell them all hi, that I miss them something fierce and they are always, always on my mind.

I love you,

Where I walk...alone...with my daughter...omg

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Fri, 18 May 2012 18:27:00 +0000

About 9am this morning I had the idea of going for a walk with Jocelyn. Alone. This isn't done. Like ever.

I sat and worried and paced and chewed my nails until 11:45 when I finally told myself I'm going. I am going and it will be fine.

Took me another 15 minutes to get myself out the door. Finally, I loaded her up in our stroller, or scooter as she calls it, and out the door we went.

Love my ensemble? I was rocking the nerdy, pale white girl workout gear big time. I own nothing to work out in. Well not really, I own a pair of sweats, and a too small sports bra...but the sweats are my pj's...the sports bra is my hat for my naked rain dances.

We walked around the block one time.

I could have done another lap or three, maybe, it's 85 and the only thing saving us was the wind plus I'm wearing new sneakers and they do not help my shins like the Sketchers Shape-ups do OMG NO, but I stopped with one.

That was my goal. Just once, survive the trip without any accidents or issues, or the world ending, and try again tomorrow.

It's beautiful out there. Bright, sunny, flowers everywhere and on one spot there is this giant willow esk tree that hangs over the fence.

It's like walking through a mystical, magical tunnel where faeries live.

Even Jocelyn had to admire the tree.

Or for me anyway, I'm a sucker for trees and shady spots. Makes my heart go pitter patter. And my imagination throw a party.

As usual, once I get into the act, I'm fine. The anxiety that was eating at me all morning just went away a few feet into the walk. That's when I noticed how beautiful it was outside, slightly hot and sticky humid, but beautiful. I looked at the neighbors flowers, wish I had some in my yard. I looked at all the trees...again wished I had some in my yard. I looked at all the fluffy white clouds in the bright blue sky, thought I saw a penis and a giant turtle.

I focused on all that and NOT on what I was doing and it was fun.

I want to do it again tomorrow. I want to make this a daily thing, more than once a day. Get my ass out there damnit! Get some of this flubber off!

Of course I can say that now...come July when it's 105 and so humid you can't breathe and are covered in sweat the second you step out the door, I will probably be barricading us all inside to protect us from the burning fire of hell that's out there.

P.S. Forgive the not so great shots, they are iphone pictures, what can you expect!
P.S.S...my photoshop skills suck too.

Big girl panties

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Mon, 14 May 2012 14:42:00 +0000

I've said this many times, and I am not exaggerating, that every time we visit my family I have to explain to them AGAIN how my OCD and anxiety (or depression) works. It's like they expect the definition to change or me to suddenly stand up and say 'haha I was just joking, I'm really normal'.

Do you know how exhausting it is? To explain yourself to your family, those who are supposed to understand you like no one else can, every time you see them how your brain does not function due to a mental illness?

Or how painful it is to hear them say things like 'You just don't do it Nikki. You just don't think like that. It's that simple' or 'If you just tried to not to have those thoughts, you wouldn't.' or what I got this Sunday 'You just put your big girl panties on and do it.' with a sarcastic laugh.

Or to know that they are at their worst when Bo is not in the room. Because they know that then I have no one to stand on my side.

They have no clue. They don't listen. They don't even try to understand. And that hurts. That tears me up inside to know that these people who are my blood, think I'm just being a big baby, or faking it, or wanting attention. Even after all this time. They still think that the OCD and anxiety is all a lie.

How loved that makes me feel.

Especially knowing that it doesn't matter what I say or do, even if they read this post, they don't get it, they never will and they will always put me down for this. And if they do read this, it's my fault and I'm making them look like bad guys.

The worst part isn't the fact that I've been dealing with this since I was 5 or that I will for the rest of my life, but that my niece has ADHD and seizures that affect her brain, making her slow at understanding things or processing information, is being treated the same, and worse, and no one is standing up for her. Even when I do it, it's ignored. She's only 12! That breaks my heart because I get it, I put up with that crap too. And I know there is nothing I can do to stop it.

Her face drops, her mood plummets and its all right there on her face how much it hurts her yet the jokes and laughter and anger continues as if she has no feelings.

I was told I was being silly yesterday because I don't do well when Bo is away on a business trip, which thankfully happens once a year maybe twice. One of my sisters has a husband who drives a semi, so he's gone anywhere from 4 to 7 days all the time. She was married before and was single for a couple of years, she's learned to do things on her own and be alone. When I said I didn't know how she did it, I fall apart when Bo isn't here, her words were 'Well you just put your big girl panties on a do it Nikki' with a laugh that clearly said I'm being stupid. And that's when I had to do it all over again and when both sisters kept laughing at me and kept saying the stupid phrase about big girl panties I got pissed. I said 'you don't have any idea what you are talking about or what it's like to have OCD and anxiety'....you know what I got? 'No I don't' with laughter and some other words that I didn't understand between the two of them. But I can guess.

I don't want anyone to suffer with a mental illness, or hell any illness or disease really, but for a day maybe two, I'd like them to feel what I, or my niece, feels on a daily basis. Because maybe then they'd get it and stop being such assholes. They'd see just how stupid they are acting and being by not believing in these issues and how with each insult and 'joke' our respect and love for them dies. Well for my niece anyway, they've butchered and murdered all my feelings.

He's like my teddy bear and stuff

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Thu, 26 Apr 2012 15:21:00 +0000

Today is day one of Bo's vacation.

We have so much jam packed into these 5 days it's not much of a rest but what can you do?

I woke up today thinking I was nuts for setting my eye appointment for 9am, who does that? Certainly not me, who is NOT a morning person.

Oh yeah wait I did. Cause I hate myself apparently.

I wanted to cuddle with him. To kiss him. To get all smoochy smoochy, steamy with morning breath under the covers.

Not sure if you are aware of this, but that shit, right there, is love. Kissing someone who's breath smells like a cat done crawled inside their mouth and died, and knowing yours is just as bad if not worse. That's a toxic combo my friends. If you are willing to test fate by kissing with these two bombs, that's love. Love in all it's messy glory.

I wanted to get all down and dirty. Not like we could but I wanted to fake it for a while. Get that heat a pumping through me so that while I waited for my name to be called I had something to think about. His hands. Those lips....those hands....that...yeah you get the point.

Except that was not in the cards and I will not lie, I wasn't happy. At first. The munchkins came to my attention, sounding as if they were tearing down the kitchen cabinets. I came jiggling into the kitchen ready to snarl and bite and chew them a new one when Bailey says 'We wanted juice but there were no cold ones. So I put some in the fridge. See?' all proud as if he'd just climbed Mt. Everest. He's sickly with a fever that is playing peekaboo right now. And he's all smiles because look Mama, I put juice in the fridge!

I wish I didn't have appointments today, I wish I could just stay home and chill with these weirdly wonderful people that is my family. All mine. I wanna get in a big dog pile and just breath them in.

Have I mentioned having Bo home is like crack for me? I swear my moods go from one end of the spectrum to the other with him in the room. I'm all crazy wired, energetic, and upbeat today. While yesterday I had been all down and dumpy...

Today

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Tue, 24 Apr 2012 22:05:00 +0000

Today I gazed out my window of my office...ok fine it's the dining room...as I took a break from blog surfing and gazing at books, which is my porn you know. I thought I need to snap some shots, to show how my day looked.

You are curious to know what I do all day.

Just admit it.

My view's not so bad right? Rural neighborhood in a small-ish town that is growing extremely fast. The other views included the polar bear and his mammoth sized poo piles...figured you'd prefer these shots instead.

And my company, well they freaking rock.

Look at that face! Those cheeker weekers! Don't you want to just nibble and eat her up?

She and I have had a boring time of it lately. These past few weeks have not been the best, emotional and energy wise for me. But things are getting better...the more sleep I get.

Which reminds me, thank you oh great dr. who prescribed Bo sleeping pills. You deserve a kiss with tongue my good man.

She's too busy eating her Nutella and fossils (aka pretzels) to care that there's a camera. She's my kinda target.

Each day I feel a little more like a human. It's kinda weird let me tell you. But at least I can take these moments and enjoy them instead of letting them pass me by.

And when little man got home I attacked him with the camera. He's the kid that poses the second he sees a camera and smiles so crazy like you wonder how his cheeks don't burst from his face. I had to tell him NOT to pose, to be normal. Look at his book and just let me take a picture or 20.

This made him nervous, and I saw myself and my dad come out in him. He doesn't chuckle and stiffen up like my dad does. Or say over and over 'I HATE pictures. Please don't take a picture of me' like I do.

But when I say give me a bit of a smile, there's that pose again, there's that smile, and he gets all fidgety as if he's trying to hang onto a million monkeys.

Everything else about my day doesn't matter. You don't need pictures of me lying on the couch in a fetal position hoping the Tylenol kicks in soon. Or of my hair that's half ass in a pony tail and my look of 'don't fuck with me or you will lose a body part'. Believe me. These two munchkins, they matter. They are part of why I get up in the mornings and keep trying to overcome my issues. They are why I smile and why I laugh and have fun.

Well that and their daddy, who will get his own camera attack momentarily.

Ouch

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Mon, 26 Mar 2012 21:03:00 +0000

After 2 hours of being outside at my parents house then 30 minutes at the park on Sunday, I am burnt.

Yuppers.

The back of my arm (back of my wrist all the way up to about midway between my shoulder and elbow), burnt, more so on my right arm. Chest, totally burnt and judging by the lines, you would think I was wearing a low cut shirt that stopped at my belly button. My face is splotchy burnt, around my mouth, forehead and cheeks. Then there is my nose, which is blistered, and Bo says 'is redder than Rudolph's' and my lips. MY LIPS ARE BURNT!?!?!

I hurt dudes. Not only do I hurt but I am cold and I know poor Joss is burning up with the heater on and it being 79 outside. I'm cold, I cannot cover my arms, sorry little girl you'll just have to be hot. I have a headache. I'm weak feeling and nauseous, which honestly this is kinda normal for me so it may not even be the sunburn. I'm also nodding off since I barely slept last night due to the pain.

On top of that, it's Monday...Bailey has soccer practice...in an open field...no shade...fuck me sideways.

Neener Neener and some sushi

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Mon, 12 Mar 2012 13:01:00 +0000

Blogger was being a dillhole, this was supposed to post yesterday...Blogger don't make me get out my club again...

Dear Family, I am about to open a can on you people. Or poke you with a stick trying to figure you all out...haven't decided yet.

My first grade teacher recognized me today!

Read that again, cuz. FIRST GRADE TEACHER RECOGNIZED ME!

Now lets put all the components in shall we?

This woman hasn't seen me in years, like 5+ years, I'm not even sure that's correct cause I don't think we've seen her since we've had kids. But I cannot remember.

Some of YOU saw me just last year, in WALMART shopping, we chatted, and talked and oh yeah I had red hair then too. Yet you didn't recognize me in January...

You have known me since birth, saw me all the time, weekends, holidays, random Sundays eating Grandma's fried chicken and booger soup.

She saw me in the halls of elementary school for a few years in the midst of a bunch of other crib midgets.

We are blood.

She knows me as a student.

Now explain to me how she knew who I was and you didn't?

I've been on this all funky high ever since. I saw my 1st grade teacher today who not only recognized me after all these years, but she told me I was and still am her favorite. Now this is one crazy nice lady, so I'm sure I'm not the only one she has said this to. But I will hang on to it anyway, call it mine and hold on to it on rainy nights like my teddy bear. Because at least one teacher of mine remembers me and she calls me her favorite. Bitch I'm cross stitching this on a something and hanging it on my damn wall.

We also celebrated Bo's grandma's 94th birthday...can you imagine? Ninety-four years?! Insane. We got to see all sorts of relatives today and I got to play 'pick on my father-n-law'. Which is sort of a favorite game of mine.

And to top it off, I have fun (but thankfully on the weak side) food poisoning, we decided to make it worse by eating at a new Chinese/Japanese/steak joint in town. I tried some sushi, cause apparently I really hate myself today. I had two before my throat went all 'I am about to press that big red emergency button that says evacuate that shit out'. Dinner was expensive, and unsatisfying and now my stomach is laughing at me, twisting and turning and speaking to me in what sounds like whale speak.

Stomping some toes

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Thu, 16 Feb 2012 15:37:00 +0000

Before I jump on my soapbox, just remember I don't expect you to instantly convert to my opinion. It is mine, and mine alone, and if you agree great, if not great I will still love ya. This is not intended to hurt anyone's feelings or piss anyone off, just me stating my feelings over something that kinda bugs me. Now on to the show...

A local news station posted an article on facebook this morning, the title says 'Interracial Marriages hits new high in US'...Ummm wait a sec, wasn't the US created by immigrants and welcomes them still? That kinda means there's a few interracial marriages going on here. HELLLOOOOO.

But wait, I'm confused. Is anyone 'pure blood' anymore? Especially here in the US? I mean I'm Cherokee and Choctaw Indian (or Native American or American Indian for those PC peeps, I will forever be an Indian, sorry), I'm also Irish and possibly Scottish and German. Bo is Cherokee Indian as well and other roots we have yet to pin down...technically that makes us an interracial couple, am I wrong? But no one has ever gotten up in our face about it, nor have we ever heard anyone whisper 'oh those two, it's interracial you know, that's just wrong'. How come folks like us slide under the radar, when we are no different than any other 'interracial' couple out there? Oh I know why... ~insert MASSIVE eye roll here~

Anyone else get diarrhea over hypocrisy?

I could go on and on and ON about this topic, but I won't. I'm not doing this to stir some chaos, I'm doing this because I truly do not get it. No one is 'pure blood' around here anymore, hell even the Royal family isn't 100% Brittish. Queen Elizabeth II is Armenian, Arab, British, Chinese, Cuman, French, German, Greek, Hungarian, Italian, Monegasque, Norwegian, Old Prussian, Portuguese, Romanian, Russian, Serbian, Spanis, Swedish, and Yugoslavian...didn't know that did ya (wiki it, you'll see)?? And aren't the Royal family known for their pure blue, royal blood line....hmmmm.

I wouldn't be here if there wasn't some interracial nooky going on, neither would my parents or theirs, or Bo and his and so on and so forth. So I don't see what the big deal is. Let it go. We don't need a stupid survey to state the absolute obvious that has been going on since the beginning of time. It kinda happens when one country invades and takes over another. Duh. It kinda happens when people immigrate to one country. Duh.

Not to mention, in my opinion, if you bitch about it, you are kind a bitching about your own existence, unless you are a rare person with 100% heritage.

Stepping down now.

One of those days again

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Wed, 08 Feb 2012 15:52:00 +0000

My moods are a lovely roller coaster ride in Hades. Let's be honest. I get random bad thoughts suddenly and my mood goes from perky to depressed in a blink of an eye.

Like last night, as I was trying to fall asleep I had this horrible image in my head and thoughts and gut wrenching fear when seconds before I was happily snuggling up against Bo. Those thoughts ruined it, making me lose my breath and get so uncomfortable I started wiggling and sighing. He knew something was up and asked what happened. I told him. Didn't want to say the words out loud so I slowly whispered them one by one, I will not pass them on here, because I hate saying the thoughts out loud and would rather just forget them. Except I can't.

I was so tired last night thankfully that it didn't last long and I was asleep fairly quickly, but in the not so bright light of today my mood is down. All because of my fantabulous imagination. I don't want to do housework, I don't want Jocelyn out of my sight and having Bailey at school has me all itchy and fidgeting. The fact that Bo is working....it's like trying to breathe through a thick blanket.

It's shitty to live inside your own nightmare. My brain is a diabolical bitch and I can't escape it without meds to shut it all up. I don't want to take anything. I want to get this under control on my own. I am stubborn when it comes to medication, in case you haven't noticed. You can take whatever you want, I'll support you, I'll even give it to my kids if I have to, but I would rather suffer through things than take meds.

It's all rainy and yucky today as if Mother Nature is matching to my mood...too bad it's only making it harder to be 'normal' today.

I have Pandora playing on my iPhone, I have my headset on, and I'm keeping the tunes light and happy. Otherwise I'll give in and bury myself under the covers and refuse to leave my safe cocoon until Bo comes home.

Too good to not share

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 17:45:00 +0000

I can't come up with a description or an introduction to this article and picture that will do it justice. This is NOT SAFE FOR WORK or children or anyone with an embarrassment to body parts...

Oh and I'm considering having my friend that bakes cakes for a living make me some of these so I can torture Bo...mwuahahaha.

Look at your own risk,

Testing something

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 16:10:00 +0000

If I get a little quiet there's a reason.

And it's not because I've ran out of things to blog about, it's the exact opposite. This blog is my therapy so to speak. It's where I come to bitch, or have break downs cause of the OCD/depression/anxiety. No matter how hard I try to write about other things, it never feels right. It's like if this were a book blog and I suddenly started posting things on brain surgery. It doesn't feel right. I'm seeing hardly any traffic lately and the comments are about dried up (not that I blog for either). I know why. I see why. My posts are sucking majorly, because although I try to write about something else, I just can't do it any justice...not here anyway.

So I created something new. Something that doesn't make me feel all down and blue whenever I log into it. I don't feel the need to talk about OCD or depression only. I don't feel like I'm cheating somehow by wanting to write a post about couponing or cooking or trying to get myself organized. I don't feel like I've already failed before I even start writing, like I do here.

That doesn't mean this blog is being shut down, cause it's not. I still need it. I'll still post. I just don't want to hate blogging....and I have for a while now. I hate that I don't feel like I can write about something I want to write about on my own blog. I don't know why that is, but it is and I've fought it long and hard, but it hasn't changed anything. I want to come here for the times I need it, I want to share tips and articles and even books about my issues, but I find it hard to do that when I have all these other things I'd like to blog about too.

Anyway, this is just a test. This new blog may not last long. But I wanted to give it a try anyway and see where it lead me.

If your curious it's here...figured I might as well use it since we created it for the website that is still sitting there collecting dust...maybe this will be what I do with it...who knows.

Simple

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 15:29:00 +0000

Simplicity is what I need.

I tend to OCD things to death and turn them into things the size of Texas. Which stresses me out. Get's my anxiety going in high gear. And leaves me standing at the end of the day with nothing accomplished.

Last week I was determined not to do this. I needed a week of stress free cleaning and it wasn't exactly easy, with all the distractions and days of little to nothing done, but I managed to keep going anyway. I made sure my lists were small. That I stayed clear of my master list unless I needed it. I focused on what I needed to do that day only. Of course I also didn't do my routines, so the dishes piled up quickly and so did the laundry.

This week I'm using what I did last week and improving it. You see I focused on the decluttering and forgot everything else, right down to reading the book for Literary Escapism. I struggled with dinner because OMG it wasn't on my list and we ended up eating out way too much. That's OCD for ya.

My lists are going to remain small, 5 items only a day, plus my three recurring daily tasks. But I'm going to make sure I include things like clipping coupons, reading my book, entering in author tour dates for LE, my own writing, research etc. It's something I've said many times that I need to do, but I never put these things on my list. Not sure why I skipped over it and hoped I would just remember and do it. I don't work like that, I know this...

Simplicity and focus. That's what I'm working on this week. And if this week turns into a month, so be it. I am getting no where in my life doing things the old way. I'm not teaching my kids good habits. I'm teaching them to procrastinate. That stress is normal. They have no responsibilities really, to build confidence and self worth. And I really don't want them to turn into me when they grow up. Spinning in circles trying to figure out what to do, where to go and what I want. OCD isn't the entire problem...

The day after

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 14:25:00 +0000

We walk into the living room this morning and every single balloon is on the floor (we always get one of those box 'o balloon things of like 250 balloons and helium). The table still has her Princess table cloth on it. There are cake crumbles all over the tables, and floors. My clean tables and floors...sigh. Wrapping paper was crammed into a pile near the fire place, the cat needed a bed apparently (the cat did this, not the kids). And my nephews walker is covered in cracker crumbs and cake and ice cream splatters.

I'm sure your wondering why we didn't clean this up last night. Well we did clean up, we threw away the plates and cups, put up all the snacks, etc. But then our bodies went OMFG stop, stop right now I cannot do any more, we are going to plop down on that couch right there and STAY THE FUCK PUT UNTIL BEDTIME! And so we did.

The kids refused to put themselves to bed. The audacity.

So in the dark, rainy light of today, the mess awaits me. It's not a big mess, I don't have piles of dishes to worry about or anything else really to distract me. Which means I'm not going 'well if I clean this, that doesn't get cleaned' over and over until I can't breath and my fingers are all tingly. I can breathe and I can see where to go/start. It's nice.

Oh and the party, there was 5 kids under the age of 6, 4 of those being boys, three of them mobile, my parents, his parents, his brother and his wife, were all in the house. And I survived it. I was not stressed or anxious or overwhelmed by the noise and all the bodies in my house. Nope, not even for a second. It wasn't until after they all left that I was like huh what do you know. I think it's the house, the size and how it's laid out. Even with everyone in the dining room and living room, they are connected without much of a wall separating them, it didn't feel claustrophobic at all.

Show of hands?? Yup I made it to the other side whole and intact. And oddly enough with energy today.

Stay tuned...

Are you curious?

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 01:23:00 +0000

Did we get the stuff done in time?

Yes! And no...shut your trap it's a great thing.

I wanted to make sure that we were not stressed by doing a little every day so the last two days weren't a crazy cleaning frenzy. Except Saturday and Sunday were total losses, nothing got done. We sat down and decided what the priorities were, what could be put on the back burner and do if we had time. And we stuck to it. The only thing that didn't get done was vacuuming the living room again, and ONLY because BIL and his wife and kids showed up 45 minutes early, (I was actually on my way to put the cat up and grab the vacuum). SIL has cat allergies, and so do two of the three boys. The poor baby (8 months) was all snotty and puffy eyes by the time they left. Other than that, all was done and ready to go.

Can I get a hell yeah?!?!

We are normally cleaning right up until the last minute, we have to hastily put out all the birthday decorations and presents once everyone is here and hope we got everything cleaned or no one notices. Still 45 minutes until the party, all that was left was putting up the decorations and vacuuming, is amazeballs for us.

If I wasn't so freaking tired I'd do a dance. A jig out in my front yard, naked as a Jay bird, singing Your Mama Don't Dance by Poison. Anyone with me?

Tomorrow starts a new goal...OMG did I just say that...Yuppers I did.

Happy Birthday to a squirrley nutball

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 18:42:00 +0000

On this day 3 years ago, a crazy thing happened. Out popped this little, squished up baby girl who had defied us all from day she was conceived. I knew from the get go she was going to be something else. A flying by the seat of her pants kinda chick. Bo laughed and said I was just being funny. No one really believed me.

But now they do.

Jocelyn does things by her own rules. Who says she can't eat toothpaste? Who says she can't pretend a tire from her brother's toy car can't be her pretend gum? A pen/marker/crayon is for writing on things with, there are no safe surfaces. A toy in her sight is hers. Or a car. Or a horse. Or a tractor. Or an airplane. Anything is hers if she can see it. Letters and numbers are so beneath her. Nope she'd rather watch Backyardigans or play with her baby dolls. Just because there's a door and she's been told do not enter, that doesn't mean anything to her. Nope she'll sneak in, swipe something and run away giggling like the little clepto maniac that she is. And you can't trust a word she says. She'll tell you stories of her pet giraffe that lives in her room. She'll tell you Bailey just hit her or stomped on her foot, except he's at school. 'Mama! Mama! There's a bug over dere'...'No Jocelyn that's a lego'....'No Mama that's a bug'.

She's a clepto and compulsive liar with no fear.

She's the kid who would grab an umbrella and jump off a roof to see if she could fly.

She's the kid who would sneak over to touch that hot stove when she was just told not to.

She's the kid who would not leave knicknacks alone. Nope she'd take them to her room, hide them until you forget about them, then color them with markers, and return them to where she found them.

She's THAT girl.

But good gravy she's funny as hell.

She's got her Mama's mouth. Which we all cringe at. When I was little I'd tell everyone my daddy was fat and lazy, and Daddy is goofy enough to have thought it was funny. And guess what?? She thinks so too. 'See those cows over dere? Those cows are lazy. Papa is lazy like those cows', she said to us so seriously just this weekend. He was so proud when we told him, then told us that that's not the first time she's said that very thing. And to think, we do not encourage her or even call my dad lazy. Her comedic timing is dead on, and keeps us in tears. And that smile she gives, or that giggle, like she knows she's good, how could you doubt her? She gets on to Bailey as if she's me, using my tone, my 'Mama face', my words, the whole bit. She's a miniature me when it comes to her mouth. But she loves her babies and takes really good care of them, even if they are always naked. She cuddles with her brother every chance she gets...of course she also steals his toys when he's not looking but whatever.

She's madly in love with Bailey and her daddy, me well she tolerates most of the time. Her day doesn't begin until Bailey gets home, and then it's like an explosion of Jocelyn when Daddy walks in the door. No one plays like Bailey. No one does pony rides like Daddy. It's the sweetest, cutest thing to watch her light up when the boys are home.

She adores girly things. Pink. Sparkly. SHOOOOES! But don't you dare touch her hair.

I can go on, this does not scratch the surface of my baby girl, not eeeven close. But I've got things to do and a certain birthday girl to cover with kisses.

Happy Birthday Jocelbean! You are our squirrely nutball. You make us laugh and shake our heads and dread you growing older because your only going to get better/worse the bigger you get. Not sure we can handle it LOL. Your our star, our rainbow baby, our sparkler on the 4th of July. We love you more than words can say...

PS...promise me you'll be potty trained this year?? Mama is so done with diapers it's not even funny.

Party Prep Day 5,6,7

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 01:04:00 +0000

Ok so back to this whole cleaning thing.

Friday was awesome, Bo and I got a lot done. The house looks so much better, even though all the detail cleaning stuff is still left to do. I swear that I work better with him home. I feel better, I have more energy and more determination when I know something needs to be done. Yuppers, we knocked off a lot of things on the list on Friday.

Which is a good thing because yesterday we spent the whole day, and way too much driving, tracking down Jocelyn's birthday gift, her very own Barbie Jeep. I'm still iffy on this as a gift, the girl does not turn for anything. Dogs. People....fences. But Bailey got his at 3, and she loves it so...this may kick us in the ass later.

And today was spent at my parents house. All day. We got a load of dishes and a load of laundry done. That's it. Damnit three hundred and sixty-five times.

There is still time, it's only 7pm. We could manage a some more cleaning before bedtime....maybe.

Egg donor

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Sun, 22 Jan 2012 04:27:00 +0000

You know how some 'men', and I use that term loosely because having a penis and balls does not make you a man, are labeled sperm donors? Here's a new on, an egg donor.

Here is the proof. Read it. All of it. All the comments and BS this egg donor left on her daughter's blog. It's absolute filth. Nothing but lies.

I have met this woman. I have seen her snotty ass in the flesh, and that of her bitch born daughter Elisha. Who is such a lovely spawn....The day she met me you know what she did? It was the day Miss and Seth were moving to California, I was pregnant (the first miscarriage, and wasn't supposed to lift anything) and so I was sitting on a chair outside the apartment. This girl sits down next to me and starts complaining and whining about Miss and saying all kinds of mean and hateful things about her. Complains of them having to help her, as if the idea of helping anyone, most especially her sister, was absurd. She didn't lift a finger that day that I can remember, and acted as if she was being forced to do all the work. Oh and that entire day she was being an absolute jerk toward me for no reason whatsoever.

Take it back, yeah she did have a reason, I was Miss' friend and was defending her, and Elisha was and still is, just a selfish, spoiled brat/bitch.

And the mom, Deenna, don't even get me started on her fake as hell 'sweet and loving' mom routine. You ever been around someone that was clearly fake? So fake it was like acid dripping out of her mouth when she spoke kindly to you? That's her. To a T. I remember thinking how the crap did Miss come out normal that day, over and over. And the stories I have heard, and the proof I have seen with my own eyes, has kept that thought bouncing in my head ever since.

Then they go and do this shit.

What kind of 'loving' mother does that?

What kind of person DOES THAT to someone?

An egg donor, that's who.

Miss has had it rough, rougher than most of the people I know, she's one tough cookie but doesn't see it. I love this girl, she's my sister by choice and I would do anything for her. So while I feel bad bashing my best friends mom and sister here, it's 100% truth, and Miss DOES NOT DESERVE THIS. I'm posting about it because I want this woman to see what support really is. What love really is. What kindness really is from someone who does it out of the goodness of their heart, not for attention for themselves. I doubt she ever understands. I seriously doubt she'll ever 'see' what she's done and continues to do. I could be wrong, but her track record clearly says she can't grasp this concept.

I'm infuriated to say the least that her 'mother', most especially, has stooped to this level. At anytime this is beyond disgusting, but right now as she's in the beginning of a divorce, it's just down right cruel. There's no reason to do this EVER. Only a cold hearted, cruel egg donor does this to someone.

I'm happy to say that we have her back, her friends and I, those who actually love and care for her. And we will not let this shit fly anymore.

Oh and if either of you are reading this, feel free to leave a comment full of your lies and excuses. Just remember you have no power over me, and your words are nothing more than word vomit. But it sure as hell will make me giggle.

Party Prep Day 4

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Fri, 20 Jan 2012 17:54:00 +0000

Goals:
Find all Legos and cars a home
Organize books in M. Bedroom
Clean off top of fridge
Organize Coupon Corner (better than saying that messy stack of papers in the corner of the dining room...that takes over two chairs and part of the floor)
Clean living room (vacuum, dust, windows, etc)

Day 4 went better in ways, thankfully. I had to shorten up the lego and car hunt to what we could find in 20 minutes cause the kids became terd nuggets and I refuse to be stressed out about this. I cleaned up the living room a little and they drug crap back in...so I gave up for the day knowing Bo had Friday through Wednesday off to help me tackle stuff...and it would just get dirty again anyway as is their determination.

The two things that took me the longest were my books and coupons. I spent a good hour or more on coupons and when I started planning the book situation I realized that I didn't have enough time or Bo's help to pull it off. BUT I did start piles and separated things to make it easier once he could help.

So even though it was tough with the kids and their attitudes, I still put a good sized dent in these things. Day 5 is going so much easier thanks to what I did do yesterday, yippee!

Party Prep Day 3

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 14:25:00 +0000

Goals:
Clean coat closet
Organize entertainment center
Pick up trash/things don't belong in each room
Find all cars and legos a home
Organize books in M. Bedroom.

Three out of five aint bad. That's what I'm going to tell myself...over and over.

Yesterday my stomach was NOT happy for reasons unknown to me other than to throw another kink in my goals. The first three items were done in a blur, mixed with trips to pay taxes to the John about every 10 minutes, all before 11am. Which is awesome, but that's where it all stopped. The last two tasks weren't even attempted. By that time I was exhausted, feeling like I'd been hit in the stomach with a baseball bat, and needed some online games to self medicate. Then Bo got home late, it was bath night and I didn't get a night off...again.

Massive kink.

In my day.

Again.

Sigh.

It's now Thursday, Day 4, and my last day alone to get as much done before the real cleaning begins. My master list is still a mile long...looks like we'll be having a full weekend of lots and lots of cleaning. Damnit 40 times.

Party Prep Day 2

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 14:47:00 +0000

Goals:
Clean coat closet
Pick up trash in each room
Find all cars and legos and give them a home.
Organize Coupon Corner (better than saying that messy stack of papers in the corner of the dining room...that takes over two chairs and part of the floor)
Organize books in M. bedroom....somehow
Organize entertainment center

Well Day 2 was a bust. NOTHING got done. And I am more than happy to blame Bo, cause it's all his fault. First he sends me a message at 9am that I need to remember my coupons (clipping, throwing out expired and most importantly go use them!). I informed him I have stuff to do and that is sorta on my list, I'll get it when I get to it. This conversation spiraled out of control until somehow we decided I was going to go have lunch with him.

This is a 20 minute drive in high traffic. I'm driving Bo's big Dodge Ram. I have crap depth perception. I get anxious driving, especially with the kids.
...sorry BAD video but it's all I could find...it does the job anyway.

It was 10 by the time we decided to do this. I was wearing an old faded/stained t-shirt and my dirty hair was under an OU hat. I could go into Walgreens looking like that but not the office. Those people actually care about appearances. I washed my hair, fixed it, and my face, got dressed, all very slowly because of my nerves. By the time I was done it was 11:40 (normally maybe an hour is all I need), and although I was so hungry I could eat our polar bear, I was also about to toss my breakfast.

And then I had to get in the truck.

And drive through traffic.

Did I mention the truck and no depth perception?

My knuckles were white as snow the whole ride, and by the time I got there my heart was going 90 to nothing as if I'd ran the whole way. I HATE DRIVING THAT TRUCK IN TRAFFIC OMFG! Lunch with my honey was great, amazing Chinese food I'd gladly get fluffier for, followed by Shake's Frozen Custard which I'd gladly get fluffier for.

And then I had to get in the truck...again.

And drive through traffic...again.

Lunch didn't sit well, but I kept it down, thank all things holy. Picked up Bailey from school, then I plopped my shaky butt down on the couch and stayed there. I was exhausted, emotionally and physically after all that.

I was very disappointed when I went to bed. This is what usually happens, something will drop in my lap and it's like everything else falls away. Especially if it's something that gets my nerves a rolling. It is annoying and upsetting that I'm not good with jumping back in after a distraction. Ok so maybe it's more like I am not able to. It sucks. It's frustrating and it's why I keep going in damn circles.

I hate circles.

Party Prep Day 1

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 15:00:00 +0000

Goals
Clean under couches and cushions
Pick up laundry in all bedrooms

Yesterday I felt pretty icky, the list was short and sweet on purpose. Then I waited until after Bailey came home from school to start them, which was a BAD idea, and I know better. It was a struggle to do what I did, so let's just be proud shall we?

I had planned on taking pictures of our Couch Treasure Hunt, except there were no batteries in my camera and none to be found in the junk drawer. Don't you hate that? We found two shoes, both mine, one was a flip flop and one was a pink croc (which I only bought like 2 yaars ago while on vacation and haven't worn them since and I'm damn near positive I threw them away when we moved), I think a certain ankle biter was stealing my shoes again. We also found: string cheese wrappers, 2 book marks, 4 pens, 100 lincoln logs, toy car parts, 4 bouncy balls,a Pepsi bottle and a bill...

I was so excited last week to see that Mt. Washmore was about 2 loads maaaybe 3 loads away from being caught up for the first time since like 2005. And now I'm sad to say, after picking up all the laundry in our rooms and closets that's not the case anymore. I have two full/over flowing dirty laundry baskets...I wanna cry.

Day 1 down. Day 2, bring it on.

Not a joke, I promise

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 18:57:00 +0000

Anyone wanna do a project with me?

I know...stop laughing. Please.

Stop.

Seriously.

Jocelyn's birthday and party is next Tuesday here at the house. And since I have this deadline hanging over my head I've been more apt to clean. It's not unknown that I do great under a deadline of someone coming over, and totally lazy when left to my own devices. I don't make my own deadlines, I never ever have. I do make great plans/goals and go apeshit crazy over putting them together but I don't complete them.

Which I'm sure is making you think 'Oh Nikki I'd love to do this project with you, you seem totally competent' right about now in a sarcastic tone.

Work with me please, ok?

I have 8 days, 5 full days with Bo's help, 2 full days with Bailey's help to get this house company ready. I am not alone in this endeavor, and I will not have to do it all by myself. Which has gotten me quite relaxed and stress free about it. It's kinda nice....and why I'm thinking of making it a blog thing.

Like an 8 day trial run, blog trend...as a goal...as a project...with a deadline...by me.

I heard someone choke...

My dream day would include a pin, paper and Henry Cavill wearing nothing but a smile and standing front of me...

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 19:09:00 +0000

I am not in the mood to read. Not one itsy bitsy bit. I have two books I'm supposed to be reading, and blogs I haven't even looked at in weeks. And yet, any time I try no matter if it's a book, blog or a recipe, the words get lost somewhere in my brain and all I retain is gibberish. Picture the teacher from Peanuts in her 'whack whack' language. That's exactly what I hear/read.

I think the problem is I haven't been writing enough, so whenever I sit down to write I think of all the other things I need to do. I need to clean the house, take care of Jocelyn and Bailey, fix dinner, and read/review books, etc. I do goof off on Facebook FAR too much, but for the most part my day is covered on things I need to do that involve the happiness of other people. Because if I do start writing, I go off in Nikki Land and don't return until someone knocks me on my butt. I think...going out on a limb here, cause I've never thought this before....that one of the reasons I'm so scattered with my daily tasks and getting things accomplished is I still haven't mastered putting me in my day. I've stopped taking my night off for one thing. It started with Bo being sick and I had to take care of the kids, to me being sick and then things started happening on Wednesday night without fail to the point that I forgot to take my night off. This Wednesday nothing prevented me from doing it, but I didn't and didn't even think about it until this morning. When I was like fuck a duck, I didn't get a night off this week...or last week or the week before or...damnit three times when was my last night off???

I'm thinking November....

You know where my brain goes when I start reading or doing something? I start thinking that if only I could devout that time to my writing. Or organizing my pictures on my laptop. Or research something all day or any of the other number of things I'd love to, that's just for little 'ol me. Why am I still doing laundry? Why am I still doing the dishes? I don't give a rat's ass the floor needs to be swept and hasn't for like two weeks, I WANT TO WRITE ALL DAY DAMN YOU. And then I walk away to goof off on my laptop, get angry get up and try to do something again...only to have the process start over.

Le sigh.

I think my inner drama queen is getting anxious to get this book written and done with and nothing is making her happy until it happens. It's like I can, for the first time ever, see the book being done. It's not an I wish I could make it happen thing, it's an I know I can make it happen if I just had the time.

It's too bad I can't afford a maid or a babysitter or a driver to cover those things for me to give me some space and quiet time and less things to worry about.

Anyone willing to donate a dollar to the 'Nikki needs assistants so she can write the damn book already Fund'. I promise you'll get a free book if you do ;)...or at least a mention in the dedications.

His first phone call

noreply@blogger.com (Nikki) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 15:30:00 +0000

Yesterday I got this call:

'Ma'am can I speak to your son' this little voice asked

Thinking it may be a wrong number I asked 'What is his name?'

'Um, I don't remember' was the voices awkward reply.

Then his mother gets on the line and tells me her son Jack got a phone number from his friend at school and was so excited to call it that he forgot who gave it to him. I gave her Bailey's name and when she asked Jack if that was his friend I hear this 'Yeah that's it! It's Bailey!' yippee type squeal in the background and a commotion followed by her laughing.

When Bailey got on the phone the cuteness factor skyrocketed. You would have thought the boy had never spoke on a phone before! Everytime Jack said something, Bailey had to tell me. I had to say 'Talk to Jack' over and over, although now that I think about it didn't do me any. It was obvious it was important to him that I be aware of the conversation. I had to know the joke he just told him and that he was talking about what they did in class. You know, quantum theory and solving the worlds greatest mysteries and all. The call ended with Jack asking Bailey if he would play with him on the playground today at school, he said yes and then Jack was all 'Bye' and hung up.

'I guess he hung up Mama' Bailey said as he waved my cell phone in the air in this confused, I don't know what just happened way. And he was off to play, as if nothing happened.

I sat there giggling for a few seconds at this 3 minute phone call of awkwardness I just witnessed when it hit me. My son just had his first phone call from a friend. My insides got all squirmy, my eyes filled up tears...and then another thought hit. Oh jeepers play dates. I. Am. Screwed. Six. Ways. To. Sunday.