Black Suction a.k.a My Bad Place

You know what sucks?

My house smells like I have a pot roast in the oven and I can't figure out why. I didn't buy a pot roast. But it's either a pot roast or a hobo. I can't decide.

When you start fighting before you even make it out of the bed in the morning. You then spend the rest of the day trying to figure out how to solve the problem, hating yourself and wishing you were one of those women who was smarter, didn't say what she was thinking and could stop hurting the other person.

Waking up at 5:15. For any reason. It's still dark out. You had the "state of our finances" discussion the night before and you drank a few glasses of wine to help you formulate the numbers. What? It works! Wine makes financial discussions Hell-ari-OUS. Trust me. It also makes sitcoms funny. Heh. Remember those days?

Feeling like you can't get anything right. Not enough work- Are you just not cut out to being a writer. Really? Your kid is always whining, crying or throwing a tantrum- Will you ever figure this parenting thing out? No? Then can you at least feel like you are doing something right with her? Your chicken cooking skills suck. Too too too done or not done enough. I can't even make chicken tenders for crying out loud! Your Christmas present should be a chicken cooking class, as well as one on how to chop.

Realizing that book club is finally going to meet and discuss the book you chose and you still haven't finished reading said book. Did I mention we are meeting tomorrow?

I feel like Eyore lately. And I hate Eyore. He kind of sucks.

I Will Not Be Winning Any Grill-Offs Any Time Soon

Do you smell that? It smells like something is burning.

Oh, right! It's my hair!

Last night I was making grilled chicken sandwiches for dinner and I did what I always do when I light the grill. Except this time a massive fireball erupted from it and suddenly I was yelling, "Oh! Oh! My hair is on fire!" No one seemed to notice. They were all playing inside with my mother.

I grabbed for my hair on the right side of my head and a handful of shriveled, charred hair bits fell off in a clump in my hand. Sick. Heart-breaking, actually. I've been trying for so long to go without highlighting or cutting it. Well, now it certainly needs to be cut but how I don't know. My four inch roots will have to stay. No one is going to highlight or lowlight broken, burnt crispies that used to be hair.

Later, as I was getting ready for girls night I realized that I also burnt off half my eyelashes on one eye, my right eyebrow and a good deal of the hair on my right wrist. The stench of burnt hair stayed with me all evening. When I asked H to "touch it! just touch it!" He said, "Um. It doesn't feel any different to me." Thanks, big guy.

Truthfully, it could have been so much worse. I didn't even get a hint of a red, burning blush to my skin. I could have charred half my face or arm. If I was wearing long sleeves it could have been an 911 nightmare. Also? Never light a grill that has had its lid closed. Yup. I did that. Lessons learned. I created that gas pocket all by myself and didn't even realize it. Now I get to walk around with my grilling dunce cap on for quite some time. Or at least until half my hair grows back out.

The Longest Hour

To all you women out there who bring your many tiny tots to the grocery store all at once I commend you. I. Just. CANNOT. Handle. It.

At all.

Granted, I can't seem to get the handle of the Ergo Baby while holding a purse which would free up the cart versus putting the baby carrier in there because there is NO grocery cart for people with a toddler and a young baby. None. Sure, I can use the car cart but then the seat to balance the baby carrier is always too small. I end up placing her sideways over the basket and have minimal access to the cart and ooh I'm already sweating and stressing out before I have even entered the store. Now, H can handle all this. He just sticks TD in the cart and straps Dash Two into the Baby Bjorn and goes. It's all stress and nightmares for me no matter what ammo (treats, books, toys) and attitude I bring in with me.

From the moment we hit the produce at the beginning and the guy was meticulously (read slower than molasses in January) stacking broccoli and there was endless screaming from one or another kid. I think everyone at Wegman's was really clear on the fact that TD wanted hot dogs and that she had to grab them off the shelf all by herself. Next, she wanted to be unbuckled and then buckled. Then unbuckled and buckled again. Bunny crackers became airborne out of the car cart as we whizzed by the bulk foods and I ran over my own pen and grocery list as it also sailed out of the cart. I took some deep breaths and loaded the cart up with yogurt as TD realized for the first time that yogurt also comes in Dora flavor not just Mixed Berry. Yeah, we've embarked on the age where we are noticing those Golden Arches, cartoon characters on cereal and how Disney has their hands in everything. Damn you, Disney fruit snacks, cereal, pizza and coming to a shelf near you- toilet paper. I would bet good money on that one right now.

By the time we got to the register my hair was almost standing on end. I probably had that vacant, glazed over look to my eyes as I white knuckled the cart handle bars. Dash Two was making rumbling, grumbling sounds and giving my boobs the hungry eye. Meanwhile, TD went into a full throttle meltdown about how pissed she was that she couldn't put groceries on the conveyor belt because she was in the car cart from hell. Um.. yeah kid, me too.

As we left the store I noticed that the man was still stacking the broccoli, not even an hour had gone by but I swear I had aged a year in the time it took him to carefully place about thirty heads of greens. Thankfully TD started throwing gang signs and dancing to the James Brown playing in the car making me laugh so hard I was able to make it home without cracking up completely.

I Need to be Topped Off

Oh, Internets.

Let's have a chat shall we?

I'm feeling like a failure as a pregnant woman. Like I just don't incubate properly or something. I'm not good at this baby-baking thing. Sure, I can get pregnant just by giving H the eye or visa versa but going the full nine months and doing it without complication or stress? Yeah, it just doesn't happen.

Yesterday, I was busily typing and screening calls as TD engaged in her Sid the Science Kid love fest when I heard the machine pick up (yeah, I know, how 80s of me to not have voice mail) and it was my doctors office. Hm... Then my cell phone trilled. It was them. I immediately picked up to hear the woman tell me I need another sonogram but this time at a special diagnostic place. Apparently my amniotic fluid is low and I need to be resting more and ingesting even more fluids. "Not to worry though, stay away from stress and we will see you at your next appointment!" I half expected a hearty and happy "Cheerio!" as she signed off.

You know what Internets? I just give up. I don't know what to do anymore. I'm tired and feeling futile. I sit on my ass more hours than I like to count right now and feel like I never get anything accomplished. More than that though I am stressed. I want this kid to feel happy and safe in her little sublet also known as my uterus and I feel like I am failing her in that department.

If anyone has any advice on how to combat this low fluid thing, I sure would appreciate it.

Bunches of Stuff

Two things as it's Friday and I don't want to tax our brains too much.

Yesterday, I was at my local Target where I managed to only purchase one item! That alone should be a front page story. I spent less than $20 too. I'm quite proud of this feat. Here's the actual story.

As I was getting T.D. out of her car seat two men about the age of 28? walked over to their car parked next to me. They were nice well kept gentlemen I suspect from the Marine Corps base nearby. I smiled at them as I extracted T.D. from her many belts and buckles. They barely smiled back and one impatiently said to his friend, "So just back the car up so I can get in." Apparently my car door being open for more than 2.5 seconds was 1.5 seconds too long for him to wait to get into his car. Really. I was already pulling her out and turning to them to smile when they approached. There was no wait. I looked at them and then back to T.D. I smiled sweetly and said in my nicest 'Mummy knows best' voice, "Patience! It's a virtue. Please have some!" I smiled again and walked away. I was actually fuming mad. I couldn't help but think a few things.

One- To quote SJP in an episode of SATC- "Oh! You're just soooo busy!" You want busy? It's a Thursday mid-day and you are strolling through the Target parking lot! I'll tell you what busy is! I'll run through the list of everything I've done just this morning sonny! Don't make me get my list out! Stop being such an EWG (entitled white guy)!

Two- Have some freakin' patience! I know that when you see a Mom and kid car seat situation you cringe. You sigh and huff. I'm well aware of that. Pre-kid I never waited for a parking spot from a parent loading their kids into their car. That is just pushing someone who might not need that additional stress. Besides we don't always take 87 hours to load ourselves into our cars or get out of them. Why don't you cring and huff about the people who have NO ONE but THEMSELVES to get into their car and it takes them 87 hours to get in and back out. What's up with THOSE people?!

Three- I think I really sounded like Mary Poppins in a sing song voice that would have set my teeth on edge if I had heard it. Hopefully it will make them think twice about being in such a hurry and rude. I doubt it but you never know. Considering I was post-workout and still sweating in an attractive dark grey Rollins shirt and black capri workout sweats I'm sure they just thought, "Oh! look how she let herself go after having a kid. That woman's feet are Ginormous!"

I was going to go into a bit about JM's (Judgemental Mom's) and something that happened to me the other day but I'm saving that for a whole other website. Days later I'm still amazed at how callous one woman can be about another. It makes me think twice about this whole person in general.

On another note H told me that I looked "not like a Mom at all" yesterday. My butt apparently looked "cute" in my ratty old jeans. When I asked him why he thought I looked non-mom he stated, "What Mom do you know that wears a Rollins t-shirt and Chucks?" I replied, "A lot I hope." He looked at me as if he knew better. Prove me right! Send me pics of you in not-so-Momish-attire! I'll post up here on the site and give away a fun prize pack to the lucky winner!Email photos to veamason at gmail dot com.

Have a great weekend everyone! See Mummy's Product Reviews for two new additional and yes, quite fabulous reviews! You'll find a cookbook by Jessica Seinfeld- get your kids to eat their veggies without them even knowing it! Plus another amazing bag!

In an Instant

While H, T.D. and I were enjoying a rather carefree Father's Day yesterday another section of my family was dealing with tragedy. As we strolled through the wetlands near our home taking photographs of birds and other assorted wildlife, an accident occurred that caused that branch of my family to lose a loved one.

My mother sent me an email this morning detailing the awful event and while I probably only met this person a handful of times in my life I cried. It's just so damn awful. It breaks my heart. This accident, an ATV one, happened so fast that there was nothing anyone could do. I don't know how else to describe it all except to put in an excerpt of the email-I took out all names-

Upon my brother's arrival, he could see that the victim was having great difficulty breathing and was in tremendous pain. He (my uncle) had already called 911. The victim's wife also rushed to the scene with my uncle. While there, the victim mustered enough energy to tell his wife he loved her, and that he was very sorry about what had just happened. He died after that due to internal injuries. A lifestar helicopter had been called, but the call was later cancelled as the ambulance attendees noticed he had already died and took him to the hospital where he was officially pronounced dead. He is survived by his wife and two children. Apparently he traveled over a bump which threw him over the handle bars and after falling to the ground the ATV ran over him and crushed him.

What was a fun family afternoon instantly turned tragic. I've spent a good portion of the morning thinking about how it can all change in a single moment. Morbid perhaps, but if that is not a dose of reality to shock you I don't know what is. My mother commented that she had just been seated near this man and his wife at a family wedding (I never make it to these things in N.E.). She kept saying that it was crazy to think back to that time and realize there were only sixty days left in that man's life. Who knew?! It sucks that it is these types of moments that makes us slow down, think, wonder, and study our lives. I took T.D. to the library versus sticking her in the daycare at the gym. I enjoyed watching her check out the turtles in the tank and the new bulletin boards in the kid's section rather than ellipticalling my thighs away.

I can't wait to hug H when he walks in the door. I'm glad I felt him kiss me goodbye when he left for work this morning.