In the room where I sleep … my thoughts overflow.

Posts tagged ‘Crazyiness’

The Art of Catching Some Zzzzz’s

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Being a mother is extremely demanding. Somehow you are the first one up and the last one to bed. You are always extremely tired and can be found falling asleep as you practice reading with your daughter. You anxiously await the anticipated bed time where you can snuggle in your sheets, lay your head on your puffed up pillow and fall gracefully to sleep the way princesses do in movies.

However is that really the case?

I can be falling asleep on the way home from work, on the couch, the dinning table, even as you move about assembling the essentials for the next day. However, as soon as I lay in bed, it gets COMPLICATED!!

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Ideally I want to lay on my back. If I position my pillows just right, both my shoulders properly proportioned equally on the pillow will make for a nice restful sleep. See, this is the type of Science they should be teaching in school. The physics of perfectly aligned shoulders.

But still, I can’t fall asleep. This is not the position I am used too! You see, we recently got my baby boy to stop sleeping with us. When he was a baby, we messed up by putting him in the bed with us all because we wanted an extra few hours of sleep during feedings and diaper changings.

SO SUE US!

Then he just grew super fast and pretty soon I was the one hanging off the edge. Everyone morning, my shoulders would ache because I was forced to sleep on my side all night!

So we moved him into his room. Then we felt guilty and I was cold. So there he went back into our bed. T-ball started for him. He then decided that he was a big boy and could not sleep with us. So there he went back to his bed in his room. I was sad. I missed him. But my shoulders didn’t. In one night I was cured and could never go back to the old way again.

But like all great things, the season ended as well as Ryan’s desire to be a big boy. We couldn’t get him to stay the night in his room. Finally, it donned on us to bring his bed into our room. So we did that… and we have our bed back. Hopefully, we will have our room back.

Sigh….

So I lay there fully enjoying the arms space I have. I now have the power to roll up in a little ball, spread out like an X and even sleep side ways. The possibilities are endless! But I just ache for comfort and want to fully enjoy the space laying on my back.

Still, it doesn’t feel comfortable. What do I do with these arms of mine? Do I cross them over my chest like Wednesday from The Adams Family?

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No that’s weird and uncomfortable. Imagine if I died like that… the medics will think I am  some kind of witch or satanic sleeper.

I finally give up and just roll on my right side like always. I curl my legs up practically in my body and relax. Hopefully, I will just know to change it up in the middle of the night.

Then I start to feel something uncomfortable.

My ankles are touching each other and it’s driving me CRAZY!! My knees are boney and rubbing against each other! If I spread my legs that feels foreign… uhhhhhhhhhh!!!

I just wanna sleep!! I finally just roll over on my stomach and hope the smothering of my face in the pillow will be enough to knock me unconscious!

What is that my feet are hitting?!?!

Ryan is now sleeping horizontally on the edge of our bed!!!!

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29 and Deep Fried

This past Sunday was my birthday. I turned 29 years old.

Weird.

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Who imagines being alive this long? Surely I would have been killed in a traffic accident or something gang related, but no I am still here … turning 29 years old.  I am scared to get older… who isn’t? However I think I am more in shock. Wasn’t I just 16 years old like yesterday? Wasn’t turning 21 while breast-feeding still like an hour ago?

Time has passed before my very eyes… and I now have been  alive 29 years. What the….

The shock has not subsided.

So…. I didn’t do anything to celebrate my birthday. I couldn’t.

Friday I went into panic year before 30 years old panic. I went to the store and bought all these facial creme and washes because if I am going to turn 29 years old I am going to damn well look at least 26! I was gone ho to start taking care of my skin, use the appropriate aging products and all that jazz.

I applied it Friday night, Saturday morning, then spent all afternoon  in the sun. And my facial wash and creme baked on my face  BURNING THE SHIT OUT OF MY FACE especially MY EYE LIDS! My eyelids were dark, wrinkled and puffy.

I aged 70 years  over night. Or got in a fight or cried my eyes out.

I was hideous! There was no way in hell I was going anywhere. And the whole situation made  me more mopey and depressed. I was so sad.

My hubby promised to make it all up to me next weekend, when I won’t look like a deep-fried chick.

Truth is, I don’t feel any different.  In my mind I am still 19. I will probably forever feel 19. The physical part is changing…. and I am trying to will it as much as I can. I honestly want to be fine with getting older but who knows when I will come to terms with it. Once being young is done, its done.

All I ask now is that convenience store clerk card… card the shit outta me please!!

Dress Shopping 101 -Don’t look like a hippie or a lady of the night

I went to the “glorious” mall this weekend in search for a dress to wear to the wedding. I am glad I went with my sister-in-law because I would have not known what to buy. In fact, who knows what I would have walked out  with. 3809563_f260

Ahem.

Apparently… I was going for the flow-y stoner dress that would allow me to go skipping through the fields right before they call you to eat some cake. WHICH makes sense to me because it is a garden wedding with hills and a small pond.

I was reminded that I needed a cocktail dress. I needed a dress that shouted I am related to the wedding party even though I am not officially in the wedding. I needed a dress that shouted also indecent proposals will be considered too.

When dress shopping for a dress, there are too many rules. For instance, you can’t wear white. Why not?! There were millions of awesome dresses in white. Truthfully, I may have been asking for trouble buying a white dress. I would have definitely spilled some thing on it. White is asking for trouble.   But again, why can’t you wear a white dress?!?! The bride isn’t going to wear white!!

Everything I picked wasn’t fancy enough. It had to hug your body like it was an anaconda trying to squeeze the life outta you.  At the same time, I could only look the part of an upscale hooker not actually be one. Try explaining that to the sales lady.

I loved all the dresses with pockets. 50034f-682x1024

However, that didn’t scream cocktail/wedding/sophistication/$1000 a night buddy. Still…. a dress with pockets?! I feel like that is a no-brainier. Think of all possibilities! All the little items I could be responsible for. All the little take home wedding accessories/candy I could leave with. Pockets mean safety for me. A place for awkward hands to be kept. A way to look casual and cool and not the least bit outta place.

Sigh.

I also loved the ones that looked very Grecian/Roman looking dresses.

C026-Black-by-Blush-Prom-Dress-S11But damnit, they were only available in white and I would have no idea where to store a bra. I am completely completely dependent on a bra. My chest malfunctions with strapless. I need the support!!

In the end I bought a black satin dress. I thought it was a bit biker looking but I was assured that it was not. I get to wear a bra (yay!!), it does squeeze me to stand up tall, and truth be told its something I never would have picked it but it’s daring so I figure what the hell.

The whole time my sister-in-law was trying to flatter me that I could wear a paper bag and still look good.

Then WHY WEREN’T WE AT WALMART THEN?!

Merit Badge #1 Not Throwing Up After a 5 Hour Drinking Party

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So I finally was invited a to a bachelorette  party. I have never been to one, nor have I been out partying and drinking in years.  Lets try to NOT roll your eyes at my lameness.

Did I get drunk? Yes. Did I dance a lot? Yes. Did I have a good time? Sure.

Movies have ruined things like this for me.

Where was my crazy almost illegal night?? Where was my wicked ass tiger that was supposed to be in my bathroom? There were no new tattoos or piercings. Everyone was accounted for. We could have at least left someone behind … that would have been epic.

The one thing that was funny was certain girls were throwing up in the limo or out the window. That was hilarious trying to stay sane with the smell.

Still, it’s not like I expected anything. But damn, we were back home at midnight. My kids were still up (rules don’t exist when mommy isn’t around) for god sake!

Like I have been saying, men have a more fun time.  And mum’s the word on the activity they will do. The following days the girls were like remember when “Lucy” fell or remember when Marina was dancing on the pole.

Shut the fuck up!! Ya’ll get a little wild and now I shall pay for it forever.

One thing I am proud of is that I didn’t fall, throw up in the limo, and I kept up with the little 24-year-old girl who parties for a living.

Someone should create merit badges for these kinda things.

There were a few things I learned that night:

  1. It’s very necessary to do things like this from time to time. Stress relief. And it keeps you young.
  2. Always have a seasoned drinker with you.
  3. Vodka and cranberry is sooooo good.
  4. After while everything taste the same.
  5. No heels… or you will fall and fall and fall. I wore flip flops cause I am a lazy ass. Point for me!
  6. Process every drink you take. It helped me concentrate on where I was at and how I felt.
  7. I missed dancing.
  8. No one cares what you wear, only in the beginning when no one is drunk.

I Now Understand and Hopefully So Will Allstate

Recently we moved to a bigger house so I can send the kids somewhere else for a while because we really needed more space. It’s really only 20 minutes away from our former house but it might as well be another country.

Before, we had all the necessities surrounded us in our nice suburban area. Now we are living in a rural area that is growing but barely. We live near the valley where there are ranches, farmland, and areas of desert.

Horizon  Now I am not a big girly girl when it comes to nature. I love to camp, I love to hike.  I find bugs or snakes and I don’t fret. I can stand my ground.  However, now that I am living in the outskirts of the city I have had to get used to wildlife a little more. I have had to screech to stop to avoid hitting quail, foxes, coyotes, rabbits.  I have seen field mice (or was it rats) running through my yard. I have seen the remains of knocked over trash cans. And I have seen spiders.

Spiders that are bigger than my palm spiders. At this point, I don’t think they should be called spiders anymore. They should be like desert crabs or something.  The horror. Those damn suckers are everywhere. I have no probably killing these “bird killers”.

Wait, I do have one condition. I must have clothes on. The only way I can not kill a bug is if I am naked. I know total mind fuck but its true. For some reason, I have this fear that bugs/spiders can’t hurt me as long as I have t-shirt and shorts. I almost wanna say I am more concerned about them jumping on bare skin and going into my vagina or something. I can be barefoot and still be fine. I just have to have clothes. So yes, in the shower, I am a total blonde chick in a horror film.

horrorHowever, lately I have had a hard time killing them. And yes I say kill. There is more of those bastards then there are of me so I am not going to release it in back in to the wild only for it to try to come back into my house.  The reason I am now freaking out about  spiders is because lately I have been finding what my husband calls are Wolf Spiders.

They are huge and brown and just god damn huge. I have yet to be bitten but I do know that it hurts like a mother. These god damn spiders aren’t like normal spiders spinning webs and trying to save pigs.

These fucking things climb, can swim, and hunt, well like a wolf.

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And I haven’t even told you the worst part.

So I found one in the middle of our living room where we sit on the  couches or sit on the floor to watch TV. I grab a house shoe and smash it really good and hard making a loud disgusting crunch. The spider died instantly smashed against the tile. But then a million babies crawl outta the spider and start fleeing in all directions.

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Never have I ever been more disgusted or horrified. I have never seen anything like that. Where I come from spiders don’t have tricks up their damn sleeves. These fucking spiders carry their kids on their back?!?!?!  So here I am trying to kill the reinforcements with my massive shoe against these microscopic devils and I am failing. They are moving fast and in all directions. I grab a house spray and I think I got a few of them but who knows where the hell the others went.

So now I totally the joke that people say about burning down your house once you encounter a spider. Well, I encountered hundreds.

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Alas, For I Am Without Pranks Today

I’m sad.

I have nothing to trick you with today! I’m without jokes today on this blessed day! Blast!

And I am terrified to read anything today because I am so guilable!

I ran through a possible list of things I could have pranked with …

I could tell you I am pregnant but that would be really just scaring myself. I thought I could tell you I was dying from a terminal illness but I actually haven’t had a physical since… I don’t think I have had one. So who knows, that may be true!  I also thought of telling you that Lindsey Lohan has turned to Jesus. But I think Jesus would be highly insulted further damning my soul to hell.

I am to lazy to plan anything. I have so many things I wanna do but laziness gets the better of me sometimes. So if it wasn’t for the laziness you would either be mad or laughing so hard right now. I am sure I would have dreamt up something epic. But again, too lazy.

So be weary today.

I am.

I carefully scanned my chair and desk before I sat down. I made others taste my coffee before I did.  You just never know. If someone scares you enough to cause a heart attack, remember they can and will get off because scaring someone to death is strictly only allowed today.

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Pick Me! Pick Me to Be Your End of the World Buddy!

Yesterday as my hubs and I were watching the movie The Darkest Hour….

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I made a keen observation when dealing with these end of the world, apocalyptic events. I already know that whether it be by zombies, aliens, or nuclear weapon, I know that my hubby has a good chance of surviving. In fact, I could almost bet on it. He is a conservationist and can make do with anything. He has  common sense and strong survival skills. Example: all we have at the house to eat is tortillas, peanut butter and spaghetti O’s.  Bam! He just made a feast! Also, he can build anything and fix anything.  He is very good with guns and can make a shank like a prisoner!
So in the event of catastrophic events, look for him. We will probably be overtaking a Wal-Mart.

Now, I realized as I watch this movie that women aren’t really valued to survive. How can they? Most are panicking and screaming their heads off most of the movie or until they die. I realized in the movie and like most end of the world movies; there are two types of women.

It’s very rare that you will find a woman survivalist. I am not a survivalist by any means. So therefore women will be classified in two groups: Women who will die vs Women who won’t.

Women who will die are easy to spot. They are constantly screaming and panicking like a mother THROUGH THE WHOLE MOVIE. In the beginning when you  first see people killed or dead bodies, its normal to be distressed and a little freaked out. But really through the whole movie?! After a while, I am just rooting for you to die. These ladies usually make rash decisions, completely not listening to those with common sense and objection to survive and let their panic lead them to final death! (Finally!!) They are basically running around like a chicken without a head crying and being Debbie Downer!

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Its excruciating! Where is your will to survive ladies?!?

Then there are those who will live. They may freak out at first but only in the beginning. After that, its game on. They get on a grip that this is their reality and GET THE FUCK OVER IT! They are constantly keeping themselves busy gathering supplies, keeping morale up, staying positive, learning how to use a gun, and just being whatever the group needs. Most importantly, they are listening to everything around them.

I would like to believe I am in that group. I don’t freak out or gross out easy. When my sister made me watch that clip of two girls one cup, I watched it all, while eating and not even flinching of disgust.  I am overly optimistic, I am constantly doing something and working especially in times of distress. I am also awesome under stress and pressure. In fact, that may be where I shine the best!  The only con is that I have late reaction to things . For instance, I don’t react to things the way a normal person would. I have no feeling for anything until hours later when I realize I should have been pist, insulted, or happy about something. That also may be a good thing but if I getting shooting at it may take me a while to realize that I am getting shooting at and that I should move to cover. Still just to be on the safe side I carry my survival handbook with me and I am currently working on an end of the world back pack complete with a  tomahawk, rope, duck tape, world map and USA map, nuts, granola bars, matches,  knives, and first aid kit.

That and also I plan to be attached to the husband’s hip. He increases my survival up to 40% as long as I listen and don’t get annoying.

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