rumney was a gigantic bust.
oh what a disastrous web we weave if we attempt to....can't think of a rhyming word...recreate.
t'was (yet another) trip from hell.
the baby busted out a 102 and A HALF degree fever thursday JUST prior to our departure time, putting our long awaited trip in grave jeopardy.
sweet.
fever broke the next morning (so we thought) so we put our narrow white asses in the car, met monica and got to driving...
for ten fucking hours.
the kid kept spiking a fever, we kept stopping and sticking stuff up his ass...all the while wondering why we were stupid enough to attempt this. we finally rolled into the farm around 10, 11ish...set up camp (a very long and complicated process in the dark. believe you me). finally ended up in the awesome but extremely dusty 150+ year old farmhouse that makes me sneeze and tried like hell to sleep.
no go. the fever spiked again. the kid and I couldn't breathe. we could HEAR but not participate in the full moon campfire shenanigans and life was generally miserable until sunrise.
wait. it gets better.
we set an alarm to get up early for the farm breakfast. I was promised gluten free, dairy free, (et cetera. you guys know the list) eggs, sausage and potatoes...and was pretty excited about it.
nope. the farm was overrun with french canadian sausage stealing motherfuckers (I HATE french canadian sausage stealing mother fuckers!~!!!!) who ate up all the food before we got there.
I've never been more upset about a $10 plate of over cooked cold eggs and greasy kale in my life.
we lounged around trying to recover our sensibilities and hit the crag in the early afternoon.
BLISS! rumney rock is the best on the east coast (possibly in the whole entire universe) and we thoroughly and whole-heartedly enjoyed ourselves, five minutes at a time while we managed to squeeze in three whole routes amidst the prof's constant and incessant protestation.
he finally fell asleep JUST prior to be tossed off the cliff...then monica's phone rang.
her boyfriend's grandfather took a turn for the worse and we needed to get home.
fuck me.
now, I did not at all intend to write this blog to bash our climbing buddy (which is why I waited several days to even attempt it)...but I'm gonna have to put some facts out there to really convey this entire picture.
he was sick before she left. she was asked not to leave. she chose to leave anyway knowing full well he was on his last leg.
soooo...we reluctantly (after THREE routes) headed to the farm to shower up, pack up, get fed and get on the road, again.
fuck.in.a.
on the way home, I got even more frustrated with her as she didn't help kick in for gas, didn't share in the driving and always got in the front seat.
'scuse me!?!?!
girl, I heart ya...but we're never taking a road trip together again lest I find it difficult to supress the urge to strangle ya.
separate cars, girlfriend.
separate cars.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Thursday, September 3, 2009
loser!
wow.
checking out some of the girls in my old sorority on facebook.
they all seem to be doing really well. even the ones who stay home with kids are always standing in front of expensive kitchen cabinets or driving luxury cars.
I totally fucked something up.
who's a loser???
--------> THIS GIRL <----------
checking out some of the girls in my old sorority on facebook.
they all seem to be doing really well. even the ones who stay home with kids are always standing in front of expensive kitchen cabinets or driving luxury cars.
I totally fucked something up.
who's a loser???
--------> THIS GIRL <----------
gotta admit
I'm a little apprehensive about the trip with the baby.
he was awesome at the gunks...miserable at the new (so miserable, in fact, that we rarely even reference the details of those 3 days of hell in our lives).
he's still hit or miss with the sleeping thing, so its anybody's guess how he'll handle 5 nights away from home...3 in a tent 2 in the car.
it's cool that we'll have a 3rd driver, though. this is vital to our survival.
we almost die on the way home from every climbing trip b/c the kid kept us up and we're exhaustified.
I am going to protect monica's sleep like a wet baby bird...so as she can stay awake and get us home alive.
aside from the whole sleep thing, I'm pretty cool with the possible eating arrangements. the farm is fully capable of providing organic, gluten free, dairy free, soy free, nut free, flavor free (I hope not) meals. we can also pack our own food cook on the camp stove, or even use the kitchen in the hostel.
haven't decided yet. to cheap out and get the full experience trying to boil water on an ultralite??? or to suck it up, pay $10 a meal and eat eggs, sausage and potatoes (that someone else cooked) for 4 days???
either way...unlike most climbing trips, I get the distinct impression I'm gonna come home from this one FATTER.
another fact worthy of note:
monica climbs like a beast. she's solid on 11's and V5's and hits the occassional 12 and V6.
doood...I'm lucky to pull down a hard 10...
on top rope.
it'll be interesting to see whether watching her shred the shit outta the shist (I have NO idea how to spell that) is gonna push me to pull harder...or convince me to sit and watch.
I'm guessing (as with all things) it'll boil down to how much sleep I'm getting...and how annoying the baby is.
yeah...9's it is.
he was awesome at the gunks...miserable at the new (so miserable, in fact, that we rarely even reference the details of those 3 days of hell in our lives).
he's still hit or miss with the sleeping thing, so its anybody's guess how he'll handle 5 nights away from home...3 in a tent 2 in the car.
it's cool that we'll have a 3rd driver, though. this is vital to our survival.
we almost die on the way home from every climbing trip b/c the kid kept us up and we're exhaustified.
I am going to protect monica's sleep like a wet baby bird...so as she can stay awake and get us home alive.
aside from the whole sleep thing, I'm pretty cool with the possible eating arrangements. the farm is fully capable of providing organic, gluten free, dairy free, soy free, nut free, flavor free (I hope not) meals. we can also pack our own food cook on the camp stove, or even use the kitchen in the hostel.
haven't decided yet. to cheap out and get the full experience trying to boil water on an ultralite??? or to suck it up, pay $10 a meal and eat eggs, sausage and potatoes (that someone else cooked) for 4 days???
either way...unlike most climbing trips, I get the distinct impression I'm gonna come home from this one FATTER.
another fact worthy of note:
monica climbs like a beast. she's solid on 11's and V5's and hits the occassional 12 and V6.
doood...I'm lucky to pull down a hard 10...
on top rope.
it'll be interesting to see whether watching her shred the shit outta the shist (I have NO idea how to spell that) is gonna push me to pull harder...or convince me to sit and watch.
I'm guessing (as with all things) it'll boil down to how much sleep I'm getting...and how annoying the baby is.
yeah...9's it is.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
on my way to new jerseyshire...
we are taking both children adventuring.
9 or so hour drive to New Hampshire to camp on the farm.
it's gonna be cold.
The Prof is still sometimes a butthead...
but Rumney has a collection of over 100 sport routes we can reasonably climb (we lead like sissy baby chickens), the stars in new england are...well...stellar, and campfires rock my socks.
I must to go buy a coat for the kid.
9 or so hour drive to New Hampshire to camp on the farm.
it's gonna be cold.
The Prof is still sometimes a butthead...
but Rumney has a collection of over 100 sport routes we can reasonably climb (we lead like sissy baby chickens), the stars in new england are...well...stellar, and campfires rock my socks.
I must to go buy a coat for the kid.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
high road (aka faking it)
perhaps its because its no longer melt your skin hot outside?
maybe its because I had some tremendous cathartic insight? (I didn't, but I'm not opposed to pretending)
could it be because I'm finally relaxed and seeking inner quiet (I'm not gonna so far as to say peace...cause, let's face it...I'm a mean violent sumnabitch)?
either way. whatever reason...I'm taking the high road.
(except with my neighbors. I still hate those cunts.)
I will stay calm in the face of conflict. I will remain patient and focused.
I.will.not.be.drug.into.the.petty.annoying.retarded.assinine.pointless.self-serving.fucking.dramas.
ie. I'm gonna fake it.
I want to be hap-hap-happy-go-motherfucking-lucky and if those in my presence and sphere aint jumping aboard the obliviously happy reetee ship...
then I shall set sail without them.
how many tards does it take to sail a fake ship?
I am DONE (capitol D, capitol O, capitol N, capitol E) done with energy sapping, joy destroying, immature dra.ma.
save the drama for....
actually, I don't really give a fuck who you save it for, just get the fuck outta my face with it.
I will be goddamn fucking happy no matter what.
put that in your pipe and smoke on it, grumpy-ass bitches.
maybe its because I had some tremendous cathartic insight? (I didn't, but I'm not opposed to pretending)
could it be because I'm finally relaxed and seeking inner quiet (I'm not gonna so far as to say peace...cause, let's face it...I'm a mean violent sumnabitch)?
either way. whatever reason...I'm taking the high road.
(except with my neighbors. I still hate those cunts.)
I will stay calm in the face of conflict. I will remain patient and focused.
I.will.not.be.drug.into.the.petty.annoying.retarded.assinine.pointless.self-serving.fucking.dramas.
ie. I'm gonna fake it.
I want to be hap-hap-happy-go-motherfucking-lucky and if those in my presence and sphere aint jumping aboard the obliviously happy reetee ship...
then I shall set sail without them.
how many tards does it take to sail a fake ship?
I am DONE (capitol D, capitol O, capitol N, capitol E) done with energy sapping, joy destroying, immature dra.ma.
save the drama for....
actually, I don't really give a fuck who you save it for, just get the fuck outta my face with it.
I will be goddamn fucking happy no matter what.
put that in your pipe and smoke on it, grumpy-ass bitches.
Monday, August 31, 2009
cooling off
I'd like to give a shout out to 70 degree weather, hoodies, long pants and chilly nights.
thank ya, jesus!!! fall doth come(th).
speaking of jesus...oqui and I have been batting around the idea of adding a little faith to our lives. we've recently come to the long overdue conclusion that we're cranky, kermudgeon, rat-fink bastards and prolly need to change our outlook(s) a bit.
enter the jesus peeps. these motherfuckers are always so goddamn (no offense to my jesus peeps) fucking happy.
happy. happy. disgustingly, sickeningly happy.
I want in.
problem is...neither one of us even remotely believes in jesus. in fact, oqui is openly antagonistic about the concept and I'm afeared that should he set foot in a place of worship, he'd instantly combust.
I, myself, am mostly agnostic with a heavy side of atheism. I TRIED to believe. trust in suki...there was a time in my life in which I actively sought faith. I went to mosques, chapels, mass, temples...
I even went so far as to join a rite of christian initiation for adult's class (not just for the tuition discount at catholic school, either) during which I told a little ol' nun that I prayed for faith. BEGGED for belief. asked for the faith of Job (you know, the guy who kept get his ass handed to him by god but refused to denouce him)....
and nothing. I asked the lil' ol' nun...how can that be? doth not god hear and answer our prayers.
she resorted to honesty with me. she started with, "I don't know" and followed up with the advice that if I really wanted to believe...I had to stop trying to do so intellectually and just take the leap.
she was sweet. she also told me that she didn't believe every word in the catechism (ie. that unbaptised babies go to hell) and that you have to pick and choose your religious battles...
which led me to the muslims.
islam is a great way to become a die-hard, complete and total hypocrite. the scriptual expectations are set so incredibly high that noone (NOONE) can live up to them...and thusly get very good at rationalizing their transgressions.
the catholics, are also good at this from what I hear.
so, oqui and I are half seriously considering heading to church for at least the social benefits...all the while keeping eyes peeled for a non-religious alternative. (from what I remember of my preacher's kid days...church goers aren't always the happy mofos they appear to be. has something changed since I last dared to do the wafer?)
I suppose if we go to church, get strung up for being blasphemous interlopers and have nowhere else to turn...
we can always try yoga, or find a good drug dealer.
thank ya, jesus!!! fall doth come(th).
speaking of jesus...oqui and I have been batting around the idea of adding a little faith to our lives. we've recently come to the long overdue conclusion that we're cranky, kermudgeon, rat-fink bastards and prolly need to change our outlook(s) a bit.
enter the jesus peeps. these motherfuckers are always so goddamn (no offense to my jesus peeps) fucking happy.
happy. happy. disgustingly, sickeningly happy.
I want in.
problem is...neither one of us even remotely believes in jesus. in fact, oqui is openly antagonistic about the concept and I'm afeared that should he set foot in a place of worship, he'd instantly combust.
I, myself, am mostly agnostic with a heavy side of atheism. I TRIED to believe. trust in suki...there was a time in my life in which I actively sought faith. I went to mosques, chapels, mass, temples...
I even went so far as to join a rite of christian initiation for adult's class (not just for the tuition discount at catholic school, either) during which I told a little ol' nun that I prayed for faith. BEGGED for belief. asked for the faith of Job (you know, the guy who kept get his ass handed to him by god but refused to denouce him)....
and nothing. I asked the lil' ol' nun...how can that be? doth not god hear and answer our prayers.
she resorted to honesty with me. she started with, "I don't know" and followed up with the advice that if I really wanted to believe...I had to stop trying to do so intellectually and just take the leap.
she was sweet. she also told me that she didn't believe every word in the catechism (ie. that unbaptised babies go to hell) and that you have to pick and choose your religious battles...
which led me to the muslims.
islam is a great way to become a die-hard, complete and total hypocrite. the scriptual expectations are set so incredibly high that noone (NOONE) can live up to them...and thusly get very good at rationalizing their transgressions.
the catholics, are also good at this from what I hear.
so, oqui and I are half seriously considering heading to church for at least the social benefits...all the while keeping eyes peeled for a non-religious alternative. (from what I remember of my preacher's kid days...church goers aren't always the happy mofos they appear to be. has something changed since I last dared to do the wafer?)
I suppose if we go to church, get strung up for being blasphemous interlopers and have nowhere else to turn...
we can always try yoga, or find a good drug dealer.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
no talky talky
facebook v. the blog.
facebook is winning...but only marginally. I have little energy for either.
there are tons of things I'd like to get down for the sake of posterity (not posterior. while my ass isn't particularly large just now...I am working on it with the remains of that damn cake)...but would feel a lil cheesy just bullet pointing this bitch.
wait. what was I gonna bullet point, anyway?
see. no talky. no typey.
I should just go do some push ups and a carmen elektra strip tease workout.
riiiiiiiiiiiight.
workout.
things of import late (I thing I did some remembering while trying to stave off the mental picture of me in a carmen elektra outfit jiggling my shiznizzle):
-still house hunting. still shooting blanks. I hate ugly houses. most houses are incredibly fucking ugly (particularly in our "comfortable" price range). somebody build a bitch a tent.
-had a "family meeting" at our home rock climbing gym yesterday. the arcade/restaurant/nightclub (with shitty dj)/bar next door has been squeezing them out. finally refused to renew the lease. I cried thinking that place may no longer be. it changed my life...twice.
first, it got me healthy, again. physically active. mentally focused (again...ha!). secondly...its where I met oqui. without that place I wouldn't have the 'pah, wouldn't have the Prof and...well, as tired and trying as it is...I can't imagine my life without either of them.
the gym, however, is merely relocating. buying up the other gym in town. yes...a town this small did have TWO rock gyms. the owner led us all on, made me bawl like a baby.
he said: as of september we're closing our doors. this place will no longer exist.
he paused. I cried.
he then said: as for the other gym in town...I know you guys are gonna probably go there. I know you need a place to climb. I don't want you to think I'd be upset if you go there...in fact, we're hoping you do...
he paused.
then said: cause we're the new owners.
mother fucker!
I went over and hugged him...and whispered in his ear...asshole.
either way, it was pretty emotional for me. ever since we got the call saturday about the meeting I was dreading the news that they would close. its a special place for me...
and now, I guess I'll have to man up and climb that fucking flake route at the other gym.
damn it.
-the Prof is sleeping through the night again (knocking furiously on wood)...so why am I more tired today than I can ever remember being before? must to continue to investigate this whole "sleep" thing. will report new findings.
-had a mini class reunion. almost everyone is fat...and looks WAAAAY older than I do. I was astounded by the titties these ladies were packing and couldn't help but laugh at the little bittles I had poking outta my dress.
ahhh...to be rock climbing thin....and entirely boobless.
I wore my brand spanking new cowboy boots (I was BY FAR the whitest motherfucker in there)...and tore up the dance floor.
damn. I still got it. I can dance for a white girl.
oqui had a problem with my particular style, turned up the drama notch, pitched himself a fit, and subsequently got himself the cold shoulder and stink eye all night.
he must grow up in regards to these things. there will only be so many "can I get a ride home with you? oqui's being a cock" episodes before I just go solo...all the time. he has been informed of such and I'm hoping he acts accordingly.
he better act accordingly.
-the monkey starts school again, soon. in years of yore this was a vodka drinking, tear inducing time of year for me. I missed her when she went back.
now...she's kind of a pain in the ass and I'm not as sad to see her go...but I will miss her. she's got jokes and a wicked dirty sense of humor.
as long as she doesn't drop an f' bomb....she and I can have fun.
hope she focues, does well this year and doesn't frustrate us beyond all comprehension.
...I'd really hate to have to homeschool her annoying ass.
-did I mention I hate ugly houses? yeah. we're having a hella time. wish I could drink more vodka.
which leads me to...
-I can't drink vodka. nursing, dancing, climbing and not sleeping are all adding up to be just a bit more than my body can handle when you throw in two vodka tonics. I was hurting saturday after the reunion EVEN THOUGH I stuck to my two (one and a half really) drinks and drank four glasses of water while still there.
saturday was no good for me.
I guess I'll just have to take up crack or meth.
mmmm....meth whore with a carmen elektra booty and brand spanking new cowboy boots.
yup. that'll work.
facebook is winning...but only marginally. I have little energy for either.
there are tons of things I'd like to get down for the sake of posterity (not posterior. while my ass isn't particularly large just now...I am working on it with the remains of that damn cake)...but would feel a lil cheesy just bullet pointing this bitch.
wait. what was I gonna bullet point, anyway?
see. no talky. no typey.
I should just go do some push ups and a carmen elektra strip tease workout.
riiiiiiiiiiiight.
workout.
things of import late (I thing I did some remembering while trying to stave off the mental picture of me in a carmen elektra outfit jiggling my shiznizzle):
-still house hunting. still shooting blanks. I hate ugly houses. most houses are incredibly fucking ugly (particularly in our "comfortable" price range). somebody build a bitch a tent.
-had a "family meeting" at our home rock climbing gym yesterday. the arcade/restaurant/nightclub (with shitty dj)/bar next door has been squeezing them out. finally refused to renew the lease. I cried thinking that place may no longer be. it changed my life...twice.
first, it got me healthy, again. physically active. mentally focused (again...ha!). secondly...its where I met oqui. without that place I wouldn't have the 'pah, wouldn't have the Prof and...well, as tired and trying as it is...I can't imagine my life without either of them.
the gym, however, is merely relocating. buying up the other gym in town. yes...a town this small did have TWO rock gyms. the owner led us all on, made me bawl like a baby.
he said: as of september we're closing our doors. this place will no longer exist.
he paused. I cried.
he then said: as for the other gym in town...I know you guys are gonna probably go there. I know you need a place to climb. I don't want you to think I'd be upset if you go there...in fact, we're hoping you do...
he paused.
then said: cause we're the new owners.
mother fucker!
I went over and hugged him...and whispered in his ear...asshole.
either way, it was pretty emotional for me. ever since we got the call saturday about the meeting I was dreading the news that they would close. its a special place for me...
and now, I guess I'll have to man up and climb that fucking flake route at the other gym.
damn it.
-the Prof is sleeping through the night again (knocking furiously on wood)...so why am I more tired today than I can ever remember being before? must to continue to investigate this whole "sleep" thing. will report new findings.
-had a mini class reunion. almost everyone is fat...and looks WAAAAY older than I do. I was astounded by the titties these ladies were packing and couldn't help but laugh at the little bittles I had poking outta my dress.
ahhh...to be rock climbing thin....and entirely boobless.
I wore my brand spanking new cowboy boots (I was BY FAR the whitest motherfucker in there)...and tore up the dance floor.
damn. I still got it. I can dance for a white girl.
oqui had a problem with my particular style, turned up the drama notch, pitched himself a fit, and subsequently got himself the cold shoulder and stink eye all night.
he must grow up in regards to these things. there will only be so many "can I get a ride home with you? oqui's being a cock" episodes before I just go solo...all the time. he has been informed of such and I'm hoping he acts accordingly.
he better act accordingly.
-the monkey starts school again, soon. in years of yore this was a vodka drinking, tear inducing time of year for me. I missed her when she went back.
now...she's kind of a pain in the ass and I'm not as sad to see her go...but I will miss her. she's got jokes and a wicked dirty sense of humor.
as long as she doesn't drop an f' bomb....she and I can have fun.
hope she focues, does well this year and doesn't frustrate us beyond all comprehension.
...I'd really hate to have to homeschool her annoying ass.
-did I mention I hate ugly houses? yeah. we're having a hella time. wish I could drink more vodka.
which leads me to...
-I can't drink vodka. nursing, dancing, climbing and not sleeping are all adding up to be just a bit more than my body can handle when you throw in two vodka tonics. I was hurting saturday after the reunion EVEN THOUGH I stuck to my two (one and a half really) drinks and drank four glasses of water while still there.
saturday was no good for me.
I guess I'll just have to take up crack or meth.
mmmm....meth whore with a carmen elektra booty and brand spanking new cowboy boots.
yup. that'll work.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
uuuuugh.
I don't feel so good.
harness caused wicked tummy pain.
bloated. headache. neck sore.
momma needs a nap.
...wish me luck.
harness caused wicked tummy pain.
bloated. headache. neck sore.
momma needs a nap.
...wish me luck.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
gluten free dairy free soy free nut free circle o' joy
I'm in (dare I say it?) a good mood.
the Prof slept well last night...and the night before. only waking once per night. amazing what only slightly broken sleep does for the mind.
good stuff. can't wait to sleep through the night again.
oqui surprised me with a yummy allergen carrot cake at the gym last night. he orchestrated a little get together con cakes (mine...and then a regular (and not $3000) one for everyone else). there were plates with animal faces. "awesome! I think mine's an ass!" and a handful of climbing friends to say happy birthday.
he managed to plan the not so short trip to the super secret special allergen free dessert caterer with the "dropping off documents for a project" cover story. I'm fairly easy to fool these days, so he got away with that with nothing more than a "can you do it at lunch time? hey. that's near trader joe's...maybe I should come, too" and an "OK. drive carefully." nothing like the days of baby shower planning when he couldn't so much as poo without me hovering outside the door listening for secret communicae. ahhhh...those were the days.
peggy got me a gift card for the health food store. that was really thoughtful. she's a good friend. that along with my birthday check from my mom (when did THIS tradition start???? I'm game), a card and gift from my grandparents and neighbor, oqui's always tear inducing cards (I always get one from him and one from the booger), my brand spanking new cowboy boots and a nice dinner with...VODKA!!!
I'm a happy girl.
a happy girl with brand spanking new cowboy boots and a rather large totally safe listed carrot cake in the fridge.
can you say sugar rush?
I'm also happy that we're getting out of this house. not.a.single.second.of.regret.or.remorse.
nope.
ready to go.
we've seen every single house in this district in our price range, and only really want one. of course, we're fighting with the listing agent on that one, cause he's an over-pricing d-bag who's holding out for a doctor or nurse to buy the property on what he wants to maintain as a very exclusive street.
I'm not convinced that oqui's hispanic last name doesn't have something to do with his unwillingness to deal.
so we're gonna beat his homo butt senseless, go down for a hate crime and find our beautiful new digs in separate federal pens.
other than the whole potential for incarceration...and not getting the house we want...
I'm glad we're moving forward with a home and a life of our own.
refreshing.
it also doesn't hurt that I'm hoping to squeeze in an extremely low budget kitchen remodel wherever we land and have been religiously poring over my decorating magazines...
feeling creative.
yup. refreshing.
the Prof slept well last night...and the night before. only waking once per night. amazing what only slightly broken sleep does for the mind.
good stuff. can't wait to sleep through the night again.
oqui surprised me with a yummy allergen carrot cake at the gym last night. he orchestrated a little get together con cakes (mine...and then a regular (and not $3000) one for everyone else). there were plates with animal faces. "awesome! I think mine's an ass!" and a handful of climbing friends to say happy birthday.
he managed to plan the not so short trip to the super secret special allergen free dessert caterer with the "dropping off documents for a project" cover story. I'm fairly easy to fool these days, so he got away with that with nothing more than a "can you do it at lunch time? hey. that's near trader joe's...maybe I should come, too" and an "OK. drive carefully." nothing like the days of baby shower planning when he couldn't so much as poo without me hovering outside the door listening for secret communicae. ahhhh...those were the days.
peggy got me a gift card for the health food store. that was really thoughtful. she's a good friend. that along with my birthday check from my mom (when did THIS tradition start???? I'm game), a card and gift from my grandparents and neighbor, oqui's always tear inducing cards (I always get one from him and one from the booger), my brand spanking new cowboy boots and a nice dinner with...VODKA!!!
I'm a happy girl.
a happy girl with brand spanking new cowboy boots and a rather large totally safe listed carrot cake in the fridge.
can you say sugar rush?
I'm also happy that we're getting out of this house. not.a.single.second.of.regret.or.remorse.
nope.
ready to go.
we've seen every single house in this district in our price range, and only really want one. of course, we're fighting with the listing agent on that one, cause he's an over-pricing d-bag who's holding out for a doctor or nurse to buy the property on what he wants to maintain as a very exclusive street.
I'm not convinced that oqui's hispanic last name doesn't have something to do with his unwillingness to deal.
so we're gonna beat his homo butt senseless, go down for a hate crime and find our beautiful new digs in separate federal pens.
other than the whole potential for incarceration...and not getting the house we want...
I'm glad we're moving forward with a home and a life of our own.
refreshing.
it also doesn't hurt that I'm hoping to squeeze in an extremely low budget kitchen remodel wherever we land and have been religiously poring over my decorating magazines...
feeling creative.
yup. refreshing.
Monday, August 17, 2009
trial (by poo) and error
this child...this beautiful, precious, adorable little child...can be infuriating.
last night (or should I say the butt crack of dawn?) he decided he didn't want to sleep any more. not at all. happy as a clam as long as he was attended and...
awake.
hell, no, buddy. mommy's running on about 3.75 hours of sleep and since I don't exactly WANT to go psycho...you best go back to bed.
nothing doing.
I tried. oqui tried. I tried. oqui tried. the prof ripped his diaper off in the crib...oqui went back for his turn at trying to put the baby's lights out (ooooh! if only it were as easy as a switch!!!)...
didn't realize the prof was bare bummed, and got a shot of whizz in the grill.
I heard only, "WHAT THE FUCK!" over the monitor. it was late (or early). we were both tired, but it struck me as wrong that yelling, cursing and banging be involved in the back to bed ritual.
I told oqui as much...in my very tired, not so nice, middle of the night (or extremely early morning) way.
then a few hours later I ate a whole shitload of crow when I proceeded to (despite my efforts to control myself) punch the shit out of the attic door...
twice.
infuriating.
so, I vented my ire, went into his room for the 24o038479182730245th time hoping that I was devoid and rid of excess frustration and found myself unable to approach him with patience. there is a limit...and I suppose after nine months, I reached mine this morning (oqui, on the other hand, reaches his daily...a trait I would like to also have an off switch).
I finally gave up/gave in and brought him to bed with me. I'm not particularly adverse to him spending some nap time in our room, but this morning I was sooooooooo tired and sooooooo frustrated...it took a good long while and a few zillion deep breaths to find the place of tolerance necessary to put up with him climbing all over my face and head butting me.
I did a whole lot of thinking whilst he thrashed about fighting sleep.
firstly...why the fuck was he fighting sleep? yeah, it makes me mad. yeah, its annoying...but more importantly, what's the cause? and how do I fix it? this kid has been sleeping like a champ (I, quite obviously, have not)...and all of a sudden sleep is the enemy even when exhausted.
this strikes me as being a problem much bigger than my own puny frustrations. unfortunately, since the Prof has not yet acquired a working knowledge of the english language...this one's gonna remain a mystery to me.
awesome. fixing a problem with an unknown cause...like making gluten free cupcakes. yeah, you can TRY it...but it never turns out right, and leaves a yicky taste in your mouth.
then, I did some thinking about selflessness and sacrifice. it seems to be my running theme. I've been a mother my entire adult life...and have always ALWAYS always...put my needs second to one (or both of) my children.
its not difficult. it doesn't require thought. its innate and just happens.
oqui has more difficulty with it. firstly, he was an only child. an only child with an emotionally manipulative, immature and overly sweet, guilt bearing mother.
oqui...was the center of that woman's universe for way too many years. she was a single mom who worked two jobs to put him into a private school that...once again, created the illusion that he was, indeed, the center of the universe.
he didn't have to share toys...a room...a car...his mother. it was all him, all the time...and I often boil with rage towards his mother for leaving me with her legacy.
now, don't get the impression that I'm taking the blame for his actions from him. I'm not. nor am I really condemning him, here. I'm just stating my understanding of the situation.
I have more practice with the selfless thing.
oqui's an awesome dad. he's loving, involved, playful, concerned, helpful...all the things a mother needs from her partner to get through the rough days with a completely dependent lil' leech around...
but he also has another side. the child side. the side that never left the egocentric stage. the part that sometimes has trouble putting other people first...particularly when tired, in need of and wanting attention itself. the part that speaks louder than reason...and is much quicker on the draw. the part...that lacks self control.
its a hard thing to learn if you don't have to do it...and even harder to learn on the fly when you suddenly do.
and boy do we.
it occurred to me that in raising this child I try to dig deep into myself for the best little bits. the bits I want him to incorporate into his personality...take with him down the road. the parts I'd be proud to see him emulate.
its alot of introspection. self-analysis. sacrifice and giving.
and it takes a damn high toll.
but what else are we to do when he whines while he eats? refuses to sleep. insists on pulling hair, breaking glasses, touching outlets???
respond with frustration, impatience and anger?
as much as that may be what I feel...instead I smile and sing. laugh and cajole...
sometimes, seething on the inside that this little other continues to punk me.
but I chose to bring HIM here. I invited a soul that needed love and affection into my life. I asked for one who needed what I felt we have to offer...
never knowing how much he would trully push us.
willful. stubborn. fits.
my cousin is visiting with her baby, three months older than the prof. her baby listens. he defies in a way that you expect from an infant...
then draws the line.
he's never pitched a fit, while mine tosses his head, arches his back and bangs his head on the floor at the slightest provocation.
my baby waited until the last possible developmentally appropriate second to smile socially.
a booger from day one.
a rebel and a brute.
but what potential I see in him...amazing possibilities.
do the sheep and lambs rule the world?
my little lion, if handled properly now (and btw...any suggestions on how to properly handle him now would be greatly appreciated!)...could do such amazing things.
I've always known willful children are difficult to raise, but fun to watch grow...
but...
damn. we're tired. we're running low on reserves...and being tested in ways that no mountain bike or rock climb could ever do.
we're being forced to grow up, ourselves...
in order to raise him.
last night (or should I say the butt crack of dawn?) he decided he didn't want to sleep any more. not at all. happy as a clam as long as he was attended and...
awake.
hell, no, buddy. mommy's running on about 3.75 hours of sleep and since I don't exactly WANT to go psycho...you best go back to bed.
nothing doing.
I tried. oqui tried. I tried. oqui tried. the prof ripped his diaper off in the crib...oqui went back for his turn at trying to put the baby's lights out (ooooh! if only it were as easy as a switch!!!)...
didn't realize the prof was bare bummed, and got a shot of whizz in the grill.
I heard only, "WHAT THE FUCK!" over the monitor. it was late (or early). we were both tired, but it struck me as wrong that yelling, cursing and banging be involved in the back to bed ritual.
I told oqui as much...in my very tired, not so nice, middle of the night (or extremely early morning) way.
then a few hours later I ate a whole shitload of crow when I proceeded to (despite my efforts to control myself) punch the shit out of the attic door...
twice.
infuriating.
so, I vented my ire, went into his room for the 24o038479182730245th time hoping that I was devoid and rid of excess frustration and found myself unable to approach him with patience. there is a limit...and I suppose after nine months, I reached mine this morning (oqui, on the other hand, reaches his daily...a trait I would like to also have an off switch).
I finally gave up/gave in and brought him to bed with me. I'm not particularly adverse to him spending some nap time in our room, but this morning I was sooooooooo tired and sooooooo frustrated...it took a good long while and a few zillion deep breaths to find the place of tolerance necessary to put up with him climbing all over my face and head butting me.
I did a whole lot of thinking whilst he thrashed about fighting sleep.
firstly...why the fuck was he fighting sleep? yeah, it makes me mad. yeah, its annoying...but more importantly, what's the cause? and how do I fix it? this kid has been sleeping like a champ (I, quite obviously, have not)...and all of a sudden sleep is the enemy even when exhausted.
this strikes me as being a problem much bigger than my own puny frustrations. unfortunately, since the Prof has not yet acquired a working knowledge of the english language...this one's gonna remain a mystery to me.
awesome. fixing a problem with an unknown cause...like making gluten free cupcakes. yeah, you can TRY it...but it never turns out right, and leaves a yicky taste in your mouth.
then, I did some thinking about selflessness and sacrifice. it seems to be my running theme. I've been a mother my entire adult life...and have always ALWAYS always...put my needs second to one (or both of) my children.
its not difficult. it doesn't require thought. its innate and just happens.
oqui has more difficulty with it. firstly, he was an only child. an only child with an emotionally manipulative, immature and overly sweet, guilt bearing mother.
oqui...was the center of that woman's universe for way too many years. she was a single mom who worked two jobs to put him into a private school that...once again, created the illusion that he was, indeed, the center of the universe.
he didn't have to share toys...a room...a car...his mother. it was all him, all the time...and I often boil with rage towards his mother for leaving me with her legacy.
now, don't get the impression that I'm taking the blame for his actions from him. I'm not. nor am I really condemning him, here. I'm just stating my understanding of the situation.
I have more practice with the selfless thing.
oqui's an awesome dad. he's loving, involved, playful, concerned, helpful...all the things a mother needs from her partner to get through the rough days with a completely dependent lil' leech around...
but he also has another side. the child side. the side that never left the egocentric stage. the part that sometimes has trouble putting other people first...particularly when tired, in need of and wanting attention itself. the part that speaks louder than reason...and is much quicker on the draw. the part...that lacks self control.
its a hard thing to learn if you don't have to do it...and even harder to learn on the fly when you suddenly do.
and boy do we.
it occurred to me that in raising this child I try to dig deep into myself for the best little bits. the bits I want him to incorporate into his personality...take with him down the road. the parts I'd be proud to see him emulate.
its alot of introspection. self-analysis. sacrifice and giving.
and it takes a damn high toll.
but what else are we to do when he whines while he eats? refuses to sleep. insists on pulling hair, breaking glasses, touching outlets???
respond with frustration, impatience and anger?
as much as that may be what I feel...instead I smile and sing. laugh and cajole...
sometimes, seething on the inside that this little other continues to punk me.
but I chose to bring HIM here. I invited a soul that needed love and affection into my life. I asked for one who needed what I felt we have to offer...
never knowing how much he would trully push us.
willful. stubborn. fits.
my cousin is visiting with her baby, three months older than the prof. her baby listens. he defies in a way that you expect from an infant...
then draws the line.
he's never pitched a fit, while mine tosses his head, arches his back and bangs his head on the floor at the slightest provocation.
my baby waited until the last possible developmentally appropriate second to smile socially.
a booger from day one.
a rebel and a brute.
but what potential I see in him...amazing possibilities.
do the sheep and lambs rule the world?
my little lion, if handled properly now (and btw...any suggestions on how to properly handle him now would be greatly appreciated!)...could do such amazing things.
I've always known willful children are difficult to raise, but fun to watch grow...
but...
damn. we're tired. we're running low on reserves...and being tested in ways that no mountain bike or rock climb could ever do.
we're being forced to grow up, ourselves...
in order to raise him.
Friday, August 14, 2009
The Professor v. The Tooth
the tooth is winning. the baby (and therefore the mommy, as well) is getting his lilly white ass handed to him by a pearly white.
I've never seen an angrier baby.
sometimes its funny (seriously...ever see a 9 month old make a fist and curse the heavens?)...mostly its frustrating and heartbreaking.
doing our best to keep him moving and distracted...
but OH LAWDY, LAWDY...momma needs some sleep.
in other news. I'm old(er) today.
half a dozen people have told me how skinny I am in the last week (yes. I'm NOT FAT, but I wouldn't go so far as to throw the word "skinny" out there), but noone has seemed to mention my horrendous haircut, pale pallid skin, giant under eye circles and greenish undertones. oh yeah...and I think I'm getting shingles (ok, maybe its herpes, but either way...I think I need an orange and a glass of whole milk).
apparently you "look good" if you aren't overweight. looking old (which I finally do)...doesn't count when you weigh a bucktwenty. nice
I want a brownie sundae. its muh birfday. I should be able to have one.
NOT.
my bestest friend since fourth grade may very well be one of the bravest people on the planet. she's an MIT educated environmental engineer, high powered black american business consultant with a six figure income...
and she quit it all to open a decor store.
the grand opening of SukIo is tomorrow. she's dedicating it to my birthday.
I <3 her and must to go to DC to support her creative endeavors.
maybe when I get some sleep (one of these months)...I make some snazzy stuff for her to sell.
mosaic picture frames?
hand braided wall hangings?
sugar cookies?
ok. that's a little ambitious for the sukester...I'll put it on my list to e-mail her weekly encouragements and baby pics.
my neighbor (this is a wee bit disjointed, can you tell the baby's crying?) gave me a sparkly panda bear birthday card and a gift card. she's the sweetest. I'm almost sad to be moving away from her...granted it won't be far, but we typically give each other a call "gonna be outside to walk in 10 minutes. you in?"
we'll still hang...it'll just take more planning and motivation.
on second thought, she's got a 10 week old and I'm arm wrestling the prof...
I'll prolly see her again in 12 years.
my other neighbors are d-bags. I've "made up" with all of them, cleared the air and psuedo patched it up...but that's as far as I go.
the renters were going to cut down the owner's plants. we felt bad for the lil old lady who planted them at least a decade ago and offered to save some. the owners got mad, the renters threw us under the bus, the cops showed up, the owner's daughter got in oqui's face...I almost went to jail for assault.
but...I got to tell the renters today that selling us out when THEY failed to ask permission was (and I quote) "a dick move."
felt good to get off my chest...and now I don't give a shit what they do.
all I know is their dogs bark all fucking day, escape at least once a week and I'm always putting them back in the house so they don't die on the road.
score one for moving away.
(the baby is still crying. doooood STOP fighting the nap, yo)
have I mentioned that we didn't even get a counter offer for the house we're looking to buy?!>?!?!
very upsetting. I love that little house...but not enough to overpay for it.
so, chances are we're a'house hunting, again. (<-----teh suck)
but I'm feeling like everything happens for a reason...
and the reason, OBVIOUSLY, is that the bathroom was too damned small!
I've never seen an angrier baby.
sometimes its funny (seriously...ever see a 9 month old make a fist and curse the heavens?)...mostly its frustrating and heartbreaking.
doing our best to keep him moving and distracted...
but OH LAWDY, LAWDY...momma needs some sleep.
in other news. I'm old(er) today.
half a dozen people have told me how skinny I am in the last week (yes. I'm NOT FAT, but I wouldn't go so far as to throw the word "skinny" out there), but noone has seemed to mention my horrendous haircut, pale pallid skin, giant under eye circles and greenish undertones. oh yeah...and I think I'm getting shingles (ok, maybe its herpes, but either way...I think I need an orange and a glass of whole milk).
apparently you "look good" if you aren't overweight. looking old (which I finally do)...doesn't count when you weigh a bucktwenty. nice
I want a brownie sundae. its muh birfday. I should be able to have one.
NOT.
my bestest friend since fourth grade may very well be one of the bravest people on the planet. she's an MIT educated environmental engineer, high powered black american business consultant with a six figure income...
and she quit it all to open a decor store.
the grand opening of SukIo is tomorrow. she's dedicating it to my birthday.
I <3 her and must to go to DC to support her creative endeavors.
maybe when I get some sleep (one of these months)...I make some snazzy stuff for her to sell.
mosaic picture frames?
hand braided wall hangings?
sugar cookies?
ok. that's a little ambitious for the sukester...I'll put it on my list to e-mail her weekly encouragements and baby pics.
my neighbor (this is a wee bit disjointed, can you tell the baby's crying?) gave me a sparkly panda bear birthday card and a gift card. she's the sweetest. I'm almost sad to be moving away from her...granted it won't be far, but we typically give each other a call "gonna be outside to walk in 10 minutes. you in?"
we'll still hang...it'll just take more planning and motivation.
on second thought, she's got a 10 week old and I'm arm wrestling the prof...
I'll prolly see her again in 12 years.
my other neighbors are d-bags. I've "made up" with all of them, cleared the air and psuedo patched it up...but that's as far as I go.
the renters were going to cut down the owner's plants. we felt bad for the lil old lady who planted them at least a decade ago and offered to save some. the owners got mad, the renters threw us under the bus, the cops showed up, the owner's daughter got in oqui's face...I almost went to jail for assault.
but...I got to tell the renters today that selling us out when THEY failed to ask permission was (and I quote) "a dick move."
felt good to get off my chest...and now I don't give a shit what they do.
all I know is their dogs bark all fucking day, escape at least once a week and I'm always putting them back in the house so they don't die on the road.
score one for moving away.
(the baby is still crying. doooood STOP fighting the nap, yo)
have I mentioned that we didn't even get a counter offer for the house we're looking to buy?!>?!?!
very upsetting. I love that little house...but not enough to overpay for it.
so, chances are we're a'house hunting, again. (<-----teh suck)
but I'm feeling like everything happens for a reason...
and the reason, OBVIOUSLY, is that the bathroom was too damned small!
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
adoption day.
this lil mofo has been working my last nerve like its his full-time job.
he must go.
I'll be reviewing bids in 24 hours.
come one, come all...come get this kid.
...brat.
he must go.
I'll be reviewing bids in 24 hours.
come one, come all...come get this kid.
...brat.
Friday, August 7, 2009
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