Seriously, he's so goshdarndeddumb it's not even funny. The day started innocently enough, I went to pick up the kids at the sitter yesterday and bent down to say hello to duckie (that's gonna be The Child's new name from now on on account of how he scrunches up his lips). He was sitting in his little chair. He turned and looked at me, then turned right back to laugh and smile at the sitter and her granddaughter. He didn't glance back at me. Even after I picked him up and put him in the carseat, it was as if he'd rather be somewhere else than with me. Just like his older brother. It hurt, but I didn't let them know that it did.

When I went home, I told The Hubby what happened and instead of a little sympathy or even a there, there; all I got was:

Well, now you know that you're not duckie's god.

WTH does that even mean and what does it have to do with the fact that as a mom it hurt that my child would prefer someone else over me???!?!?!?! Seriously, what the heck is his head filled with, eucalyptus leaves? I couldn't talk to him, just ignored him the rest of the evening. Thankfully he had to leave to do some work and I didn't have to be plagued with looking at his sorry behind. He did try to call me later on, probably to tell me to record some stupid construction tv show but I didn't pick up. He knows that I haven't been in my right state of mind and he goes and throws this at me? It's like he's telling me to go completely crazy. It's things like this that make me wonder if I wouldn't be better off just being a single mom.

If someone can shed some light as to what the heck he meant by that, by all means please do.

The Other Woman

Posted by sourpatchbaby | 2/29/2008 | , | 0 comments »

He loves her more. I don't blame him, she's there for him more than I am. She's a better listener, better company. Heck, I'd rather be with her than with me. Everytime that he's with me, he is thinking about her and about the next time he'll see her again. He doesn't really care that he's hurting my feelings as long as he gets to hold and be held by her. If something were to happen to him he'd go to her and tell her way before even thinking about telling me. She gives him a level of comfort that I can't compete with.

I know about her, been knowing for a while now and there's nothing I can do. She's good for and with him. I just wish that it could've been me, ya know? I can't stop him from seeing her because he needs her and frankly, I need her too.

Tell me, how do you handle having your kids love their sitters more than they love you?

Holey Moley!

Posted by sourpatchbaby | 2/28/2008 | , , | 0 comments »

Katie, why didn't you tell me that cajun meant hot as in spicy?

I'm sitting here eating my cajun chicken ramen noodles (that's how us broke people do) and it's burning a hole in my mouth it's so hot!
It feels weird being back at work after being gone for awhile. I feel like it's a new job that I've started only that I know the people here. And to top it all off, they have made so many changes around that it's really confusing. My replacement is teaching me how to do my job, lol.

Katie, can I be an obama mama? I like the sound of that. We all know that no republican candidate will win this election thanks to our c average nucular president so it's going to be a democrat in the whitehouse. Hillary is too manly for my taste and we already had her ruling the country for eight years, why should she get another chance since she botched it the first time? Obama on the other hand is not bad lookin', you know if you like the skinny type. He's gonna win. Oh heck, the voters will choose an illegal martian alien as the president as long as it was a man before they chose a woman. And I mean this in the nicest way possible, seeing as how the biggest voters are really really really old. Do you realize that if you put some meat on him, a nice fedora, a long coat with feathers/fluffy stuff on the collar, and a walking stick that there's no difference between him and the pimp next door? Obama is gonna pimp our country up to the highest bidder, yeah!

He'll pimp the country out but we as the people will be like his little crackbabies, pimps take care of their crackbabies right? Or do they just take them and sell them for more crack? I can't remember. Either way, it's a win win situation with him


Posted by sourpatchbaby | 2/27/2008 | , , , | 0 comments »

I didn't tell you guys about the last time I almost died. Well, here it is:

It was a beautiful sunny saturday morning and the other women from church and myself were going to a conference in Orlando. We were going to drive there and I was in the car of lady B, along with two other ladies and The Kid. I was about seven months pregnant at the time. Lady A was to lead the group of cars and she wasn't doing a very good job about it. Let's just say that for about 45 minutes, she had us lost withing 15 miles of church. Yes, that means we were driving around in circles in the same general area. Then, once we finally made it to the 75mph minimum highway, she kept on switching lanes like it was going out of style or something; completely forgetting that there were other cars following her. We had to pull over in the middle of the highway because someone got a flat tire. After getting some confusing signals, lady B pulled out of the grassy area and went into the right lane of the highway and stopped.

Yes, she came to a complete stop in the 75mph highway waiting for lady A to pull out. Lady A didn't pull out cuz she was fixing her makeup or talking. Meanwhile, I get this funny feeling and look behind me (did I mention that I was riding in the backseat along with The Kid? Well, I was) and lo and behold there's the biggest 18 wheeler truck in our lane that we are totally stopped in and he's honking his horn, hitting his brakes, and I could see the man's terrified face as he realized that he was going to plummet into our car. Two things I did at once, yell at lady B to move your car woman git! git! git! And realize that I was probably going to die alongside foetus mccletus and The Kid since we were in the backseat and would get hit first. My life flashed before my eyes. The Kid happily munched on some cheerios and blueberries.

Thankfully lady B moved the car back into the grassy area and we survived. The truck driver's tires did not. There was so.much.smoke coming from his tires from when he was slamming on his breaks that I think they may have caught on fire, remember it was a 75+mph highway and he was going pretty fast. Little foetus mccletus did not move at all for the rest of the drive. It was pretty scarey. We made it to the conference and on the way back they had someone else be the leader of the cars. That ride was so satisfyingly boring that I almost peed my pants. Oh lets face it, I was pregnant, it didn't take much to make me pee my pants.

And that my friends, is the tale of how I almost died.

so.. my poor The Kid, he's the one that's borne the brunt of my monster. It's as if a switch was hit inside of me where the baby could do no wrong and The Kid could do nothing right. And then I'd blow up, big time. I'll even admit it, I hit him in anger a couple of times before I got help. It was that which made me realize how wrong I was and how much help I truly needed. I smacked his butt and leg so hard because he had a small accident (we'd been potty training him before the baby was born) that when I sat him in the potty immediately after I noticed that I'd left a red welt on his leg. Oh God how I lost it then. But the worse was yet to come. He started telling me that he was sorry for what he did. Do you know how horrible it is to hear your child apologize to you for something that YOU did wrong? I just dropped down on my knees and started hugging my poor confused boy; kissing him and apologizing to him. I just thank God that it didn't get worse than that and that I'm getting the help I need. One day at a time is the most anyone can ask of me and that's how am doing it.

I've been making sure that The Kid gets the appreciation that he deserves and paying lots of attention to him. I just hope that I didn't scar him for life or that I jeopardized his relationship with his baby brother because of it seeing as how I turned into a monster after the baby came.

Today I went back to work. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. I cried like a banshee. I'd really thought that this time I'd be able to stay at home and take care of my baby, see his first step, give him his first foods. But no, bills have to be paid and I have to go back to work. The only thing that's keeping me sane is the knowledge that I'm over and done with skool and I won't be coming home at 11pm every night this time around. I'm not going to be coming home just to put my baby to sleep for the night. God, it was so tough last time. I believe now that I had undiagnosed PDD that time. Had to fight the almost daily urge to drive the car into the river just so that I could stop the pain and hurt. The only thing that kept me from doing so is that if I did, The Hubby would have to feed the baby formula and my sheer stubbornness to not have a formula fed baby stopped me. That's what saved my life that time.

This time around, I felt the monster way before I even went back to work. Didn't want to talk to anyone, barely left the house, couldn't eat, barely slept, didn't even want to bathe, horrible uncontrolable mood swings (mostly directed at the poor The Kid who didn't recognized the monster that replaced his momma), fighting the urge to hurt The Kid. Seriously, this is not something to play with. Thankfully I've been given some good herbs by the midwife (totally bf friendly) that are helping me a little. I pray to God that it doesn't get worse now that I'm working again since that's when things got out of control last time. If you ever feel like something is not right, get help before it's too late. And don't try to talk to my husband about it, he's no help. When I told him about how I'd get these uncontrolable anger spells and I'd start yelling at the poor The Kid for no reason and how I couldn't stop myself, his words were: well then, stop doing it.

Husband of mine, I have one thing to say to you:

rubber, glue, back to you.