So I was scanning threw my facebook this morning when I came across an article about a pregnant woman who was denied a glass of wine by a waiter at a restaurant. The woman said her OB oked it and the waiter simply replied "yea Ive heard that before". For one bitch isnt getting a tip. For two she basically refused to serve this woman simply because she was pregnant (which she had no proof of until the woman said her OB was cool with it). If there was a restaurant policy against it, would have been posted some where and the waiter would have HAD to say its against policy, but NO instead she was a snippy little bitch about it. I drank wine in my last 2 weeks of pregnancy in an attempt to get Miss L out of me. It did not work and it wasnt even 6 ozs of wine, it was like 4. Just enough to make me want more, but not dare do it. Now I could understand if the woman had been like "Hey I want two tequila slammers and a pitcher of beer", but she didnt. She asked for a small glass of wine. So again I say Bitch isnt getting a tip. Rant one over.
So I'm rocking Miss L yesterday. Miss G is enjoying a puzzle on the floor and for a small moment in our day, the house is at peace. Everyone has had lunch, so bellies are full and nap time is only 30 minutes away, bliss. Then the phone rings. Its the darling husband. When I answer he seems happy, so when he asked me if a friends mother worked at the water company I had zero idea where this was going. We had recently (by recently I mean memorial day) run into this friend and her mother and sister while in Walmart. We were visiting my family (which I still am) and chatted up with them for a few minutes catching up. Fast forward back to the husband and his question. I told him yes and he told me his father had just called. Again no idea by his tone where this is going. When his father went to pay his water bill, he saw our friends mother. She was telling him how she saw his gorgeous Granddaughters in Wal Mart. Still not getting where this is going, and honestly its my fault for not seeing it coming. His father was calling to bitch out my dear sweet husband for being in town and "not telling him"
ONE. We did tell him two weeks before we came. Informed him we would only be in town for 6 days and planned on going to the zoo. His response: If you dont want me to see them then just tell me.
TWO: My husband and I have given that jackass notice of every time we will be coming to visit so that he can make plans to see his now granddaughters. His response: You wont bring them over to my house.
SIDENOTE: His woman did a drug deal while my husband was there on a day Miss G and I were suppose to go over but didnt due to me getting violently ill.
TWO A: Husband explained for the 152nd time that he was forced to grow up around that stuff and will not allow his children to be put into any type of situation like that. Not only could that have caused him to loose his daughter had she been with him, but it could destroy his career. His fathers response: So you dont trust me. You always try and get us to go out to eat when you come to town at really expensive places and we dont have money for that shit. Why cant you choose some place like Mc Donalds?
THREE: We only suggested we go out to eat once and it was at Christmas. Told you about it a month in advance so that everyone could come up with the maybe 40 dollars it would cost (two people can eat at this particular restaurant for around 25 dollars...) and left it up to you and everyone else to decide where you wanted to eat. Though we dont eat Mc Donalds nor do we allow our 2 year old to eat it, we would have gladly sat with you and visited. His response: If you dont want me in your life just say so.
After a few more low blows from his father and him informing my husband that he needs to get HIS life together (which is laughable because my husband works his ass off and though he is getting out of the Army he already has another job lined up) my husband had had enough. He informed him yet again that he had never denied him access to his granddaught(s) but since he seems to convinced that my husband wants nothing to do with him then fine. My husband will no longer be calling his father and when we come to town it will not be to see him. He wont be telling him and will have nothing to do with him from this point on.
This is not the first fall out they have had. The first was when his father decided he was going to beat him. My husband was 17, a skater, in wonderful health, and beat the hell out of his father. Did his father throw the first punch and get a hit in, yes. Bruised his face and cut his lip, did my husband hold back when he was defending himself? No and had to be pulled off of his father. My husband is not an angry man, but after the years of crap his father has put him and his brothers threw I didnt blame him. His father was the one who made a move to make peace right before my husband left for basic. Their relationship has be rocky but up until yesterday it has also been ok. I dont think there will be much coming back from this.
Now for the last of my Seriously? moments. After five days of little sleep due to a sick colicy baby, my phone rings yet again. It is my husband and he sounds panicked. He tells me someone just called him telling him that I am about to go to jail because I was suppose to show up for Jury duty and never did. He gives me a number to call. I call it. After listening to it and getting pissed waiting for the option of speak to a human being it informs me that this is a joke. I refuse to take my husbands phone calls.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Monday, June 4, 2012
With a toddler on my hip and a baby on my breast...
I took an extended leave of absence. Life tends to get in the way of silly things like a blog with faceless readers but for today I am back. Life for myslef is beyond what I could have ever imagined. I have been blessed with two wonderful children and a devoted husband. Despite how we may fight that man has and always will stand by my side threw anything. I owe him not only my heart (which is his and most certainly will always belong to him) but I also owe him my gratitude for without all his hard work I would not be where I am today which is at home with our darling girls.
I remember when I was pregnant with our first little monkey and my aunt and cousin thought I was beyond mad for saying I was planning on going completely natural. Little did I know then that soon not only my extended family would find my parenting choices less then modern but so would almost every stranger I would soon come across.
Once our first little monkey arrived I tried my damnest for the first 6 weeks to breast feed. It ended the day monkey and I both were crying hieratically over my breast. I had some guilt but knew in the end I was doing what was best for my child. Our next issue came in the form of diapers. Pampers were the only ones that saved my little one from the horrors called rashes. Huggies burned her skin and after the horror stories I had heard from parents choice users I didn't even bother. Now as an uneducated new mother I had no idea of my "other" options.
When someone says cloth diapers most have this mental picture of folded cloth and rubber pants. They picture a hassle and horrible smelling laundry rooms, or at least that's what I pictured. I pictured leaks, stained clothing, and a sudden hatred for parenting. Little did I know cloth diapers have advanced to fit modern society, not that people who use disposables ever admit it, but after a year of buying pampers that never had her size in stock, I decided to look into it. Honestly I owe it all to my friend. She too was tired of the added expense and wanted something better.
I tried them and loved them but then disaster hit. We can call it a night of passion or we can call it what it was. A natural fail in pity sex. In my never ending crusade to stick to the natural right of things we had decided to practice the rythme method. I will simply say it invovles knowing your body which I did very well so well in fact that when saying what I did to my husband that one night of "passion" I had also known that that day was a no no day. But things happened and about six weeks later the strip showed two very clear lines. So with a toddler on my hip the emotional roller coaster began. And thanks to these little things called hormones the fluff was put up. I could not with stand the poop. A few months later I pulled the fluff out again and we gave it another go. After one horrible rash we jumped on the potty train. Our little monkey was a champ, so long as she was naked. As my belly grew and Christmas loomed a head of us I had a naked toddler running loose in my house. We packed up her fluff, threw some clothes on that naked butt, and headed to grandmas. Of course disaster struck again in the form of family problems and one messed up back. Monkey reverted back to full time fluff. Still though my belly grew and monkey number two was soon to arrive. I worried as I watched the bills and knew diapers weren't in the cards. I began then to research different kinds of cloth, bought a diaper sprayer and broke our bank account making sure both my little monkeys have enough fluff for their cute little butts. I got looks, I got eye rolls, and I got comments when my cute little monkey walked in with that cute little fluff butt. I simply smiled and said yes we cloth diaper.
Enter monkey number two. She came in with a bang, the cord wrapped around her head, shoulder's, and a big old tight knot. Her heart rate kept dropping and had my water not broken when it did she might not even be here today. Breastfeeding was to say the least diffecult for the first two weeks. We stuck to pampers to help with the stress until life settled down and until our little monkey could fit her fluff. Soon though I had the breastfeeding down and both girls with cute fluff butts. Oh I got looks. Nursing in public, changing cloth diapers, wearing my youngest in a sling or wrap. People thought I was crazy. I am constantly asked how I do it. I simply smile and shrug. Truthfully I have no idea. I notice that I drink more coffee now and watch little tv. My own personal wants come last. I sacrifice showers for sleep and nice clothes for comfy sweats. I some how just get by. Most days I am beyond tired. My poor body needs major attention after carying and delivering two healthy babies and I plan on gettimg on top of that soon. For now though I go threw my days clothing one, potty trainging the other and walking around with a toddler on my hip and a baby on my breast.
I remember when I was pregnant with our first little monkey and my aunt and cousin thought I was beyond mad for saying I was planning on going completely natural. Little did I know then that soon not only my extended family would find my parenting choices less then modern but so would almost every stranger I would soon come across.
Once our first little monkey arrived I tried my damnest for the first 6 weeks to breast feed. It ended the day monkey and I both were crying hieratically over my breast. I had some guilt but knew in the end I was doing what was best for my child. Our next issue came in the form of diapers. Pampers were the only ones that saved my little one from the horrors called rashes. Huggies burned her skin and after the horror stories I had heard from parents choice users I didn't even bother. Now as an uneducated new mother I had no idea of my "other" options.
When someone says cloth diapers most have this mental picture of folded cloth and rubber pants. They picture a hassle and horrible smelling laundry rooms, or at least that's what I pictured. I pictured leaks, stained clothing, and a sudden hatred for parenting. Little did I know cloth diapers have advanced to fit modern society, not that people who use disposables ever admit it, but after a year of buying pampers that never had her size in stock, I decided to look into it. Honestly I owe it all to my friend. She too was tired of the added expense and wanted something better.
I tried them and loved them but then disaster hit. We can call it a night of passion or we can call it what it was. A natural fail in pity sex. In my never ending crusade to stick to the natural right of things we had decided to practice the rythme method. I will simply say it invovles knowing your body which I did very well so well in fact that when saying what I did to my husband that one night of "passion" I had also known that that day was a no no day. But things happened and about six weeks later the strip showed two very clear lines. So with a toddler on my hip the emotional roller coaster began. And thanks to these little things called hormones the fluff was put up. I could not with stand the poop. A few months later I pulled the fluff out again and we gave it another go. After one horrible rash we jumped on the potty train. Our little monkey was a champ, so long as she was naked. As my belly grew and Christmas loomed a head of us I had a naked toddler running loose in my house. We packed up her fluff, threw some clothes on that naked butt, and headed to grandmas. Of course disaster struck again in the form of family problems and one messed up back. Monkey reverted back to full time fluff. Still though my belly grew and monkey number two was soon to arrive. I worried as I watched the bills and knew diapers weren't in the cards. I began then to research different kinds of cloth, bought a diaper sprayer and broke our bank account making sure both my little monkeys have enough fluff for their cute little butts. I got looks, I got eye rolls, and I got comments when my cute little monkey walked in with that cute little fluff butt. I simply smiled and said yes we cloth diaper.
Enter monkey number two. She came in with a bang, the cord wrapped around her head, shoulder's, and a big old tight knot. Her heart rate kept dropping and had my water not broken when it did she might not even be here today. Breastfeeding was to say the least diffecult for the first two weeks. We stuck to pampers to help with the stress until life settled down and until our little monkey could fit her fluff. Soon though I had the breastfeeding down and both girls with cute fluff butts. Oh I got looks. Nursing in public, changing cloth diapers, wearing my youngest in a sling or wrap. People thought I was crazy. I am constantly asked how I do it. I simply smile and shrug. Truthfully I have no idea. I notice that I drink more coffee now and watch little tv. My own personal wants come last. I sacrifice showers for sleep and nice clothes for comfy sweats. I some how just get by. Most days I am beyond tired. My poor body needs major attention after carying and delivering two healthy babies and I plan on gettimg on top of that soon. For now though I go threw my days clothing one, potty trainging the other and walking around with a toddler on my hip and a baby on my breast.
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