Forgive My Life

Archive for the ‘Way to Start My Day’ Category

With the boys in hockey again this winter I have realized that any chance I have at sleeping in is gone. Hubby was out of the house at 6:30 to take the 2 to their games and I was happily sleeping in my warm bed.

The dog started howling..jolting me from that happy sleep and leaving me wondering what the fuck his problem was. Oh, he had probably seen the boys long enough to realize that he hadn’t been taken out of his kennel. I gritted my teeth and hoped that he would shut the fuck up before he woke up any of the kids. Having sensed that it was way before 7, therefore too early to be out of his kennel, he shut up. Maybe he grew bored of the howling instead…one will never know.

None of the little kids had heard the dog so I rolled back over and hoped they would all stay sleeping until at least 9. I could tell he was awake before he even started moving around… His co-sleeper still firmly attached to our bed means that any time is appropriate for him to crawl into our bed for morning snuggles. By morning snuggles I mean stealing the blankets, kicking me in the stomach, and shoving his hands in my shirt.

He opted to skip all of his morning rituals for a prompt “I all done. I go downstairs! You coming, mama?” while he climbed off of the bed. 7:45…a far cry from 9. All of the coffee in the world couldn’t save me.

Thanks to his inability to sit quietly on the couch, Girly woke up and a fight broke out immediately over who the fuck knows what. The fight ended quickly and girly remembered that she had some new (hand me down) dressed that she wanted to wear. They both went upstairs while she got dressed and she yelled downstairs that wee boy was in the buff.

He was in the bathroom trying to climb onto the toilet. Great sign that maybe we  should work on potty training!! He squeezed out a little poop while girly and I cheered. And then it happened……

Girly, in her beautiful dress, stood in the doorway of the bathroom and shuffled the skirt. I was coaxing the boy to pee just a little. And the dog…he played a rather innocent role of hanging out in the background. He sniffed at Girly’s dress like he sniffs at most things…rather ambivalently. Suddenly, it was different. Suddenly, something caught his nose. Suddenly, he lifted his leg and started peeing on the dress.

He peed on the fucking dress while Girly was wearing it and I could do nothing to stop it.

I sent him outside and quickly grabbed the stuff to clean it up, remembering that the boy was still on the toilet waiting for a bum wipe. By the time I got back up there, he was trying to climb off of the toilet. Girly stood by the tub, shoulders hunched, sulking in her freshly pissed on dress. Wipe a bum, clean up pee, help Girly out of the dress… She went to get dressed again; into jeans and a shirt this time. Her expression mirrored how I felt; sad, defeated, and angry.

I looked at the clock. It was 7:59. I took a mental inventory of the alcohol we have in the house; there was a half bottle of wine in the fridge. I resisted the urge to take it with me back up to bed.

I’ve had a startling realization this morning…. this is my new normal. This chaos and weird shit that happens…. this is my NORMAL! I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, really.

Dog barks at 6:20 so I get up, thinking that he needs to do business. He doesn’t need to do business…his focus is chasing after me and licking my bare legs. I don’t know why having the dog lick my legs grosses me out so much but I want to never wear shorts again.

I had planned to make the kids pumpkin bake this week but we ended up a day late so I made it this morning. There is a reason I usually bake it the night before and that is because it takes forever to bake! I turned the oven on and got everything mixed together before I realized that there was a very bright orange in the oven.

Oh yeah…whatever spilled in the bottom of the oven was on fire. There was a moment right before the panic struck that I was envisioning trying to get 5 sleeping kids and all of my important shit out of the house before it burned to the ground.

The chunk on fire was probably the size of a grape so I figured I could probably grasp it with the barbecue tongs. I didn’t really expect to have the chunk crumble as I picked it up…spreading the flaming coals all over the bottom of the oven. Shit.

I had to actually crush the bits of charcoal food remnants with a flipper and scrape them out of the oven; all the while trying not to burn my hand.

This is probably a sign that I need to run the self clean cycle on the oven. I should also figure out how to use the fire extinguisher.

Just a random mention..no big deal..but the dog totally tried to trip me while I hauled the laundry basket down the stairs. I’m pretty sure it was payback for eating bacon in front of him. Or maybe the barking at 6:20 was all part of his master plan to off me today.

Is it too much to ask that our mornings just go smoothly? Weird things always seem to happen before I’m showered, fed, or caffeinated; before I’m capable of coping properly.

This morning, there was a knock on the door at 6:30….at least I think it was a knock on the door. By the time I woke up fully, there was no one at the door. I texted Billy (after locking the door because it freaked the hell out of me) and he wondered who would knock on the door at 6:30. Umm… serial killers?? Well, maybe not serial killers because a) they wouldn’t knock and b) it’s 6:30am…do they even work at that hour?

I woke up the boys and Logan immediately said “My stomach really hurts.”. Great. I don’t really believe that his stomach hurts (on account of the plate full of breakfast he took down) but he’s home anyway. And the TV is on Sportsnet. I fucking loathe Sportsnet. I would take eternal episodes of Caillou over this stupid channel!

Gavin, quietly, told me that his finger really hurt. No kidding it hurt…there is a cut inside of his knuckle and half the finger is red & swollen! I’ve heard a couple of versions of ‘what happened’ but both involve a pocket knife (thanks Mom) and Gavin ‘carving’ wood. Billy got home while I was cleaning his finger with tea tree oil and he managed to re-open it to de-puss the wound. All of this sounds unnecessarily gory…. but it had to be done. Gavin’s concern during all of this was the fact that he had to hold his middle finger up while we tended to the wound. “No, I don’t want to flip the bird!”

In a matter of 15 minutes, things really went to hell. Wylder and Anya woke up, Anya started demanding I make her scrambled eggs, and Gavin got bit on the nose by the dog.

I started cracking eggs for Anya’s breakfast and decided that 4 eggs wouldn’t be enough for Anya, Wylder and I so I grabbed the carton with 2 left in it. 5 eggs in the bowl, 1 left to crack….. and it was blood. Not a spot of blood but an egg encapsulated murder scene. I made Billy take care of it because I thought I was going to blow chunks. I don’t know that I can ever recover from this…seriously… *gag*

A fresh start, a new carton of eggs, and I whipped up Anya’s scrambled eggs. She held her hand out to me because it hurt and, ummm, there was brown on it. She swore it was from the chocolate cake we had last night but I knew. Her nighttime pull up had more than a middle of the night pee in it.

While I held my 4 year old’s awkwardly long legs in the air, I wondered how this morning could go so fucking wrong. And now Logan is playing hockey on the Playstation 3. I’m going to make a coffee and pray that this day goes by quickly.

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13 years ago, Billy and I got hitched. I would say that it was a dream wedding but it really wasn’t. We were married on a grassy area between 2 busy roads in clothes that we would wear on a normal day.

It’s strange how fast 13 years goes by. The phrase “Time flies when you’re having fun” doesn’t really seem to apply here, however… I think having 5 kids is the reason 13 years has flown by.

I had high hopes for today… we’re having steak (bacon wrapped perhaps?) for supper. 13 is the steak & bacon anniversary, right? No? Okay, well…here it is. Who needs gold or silver when you’ve got steak & bacon?!?

My high hopes were shattered last night when I couldn’t breathe. Stupid dust allergies and the fact that my kids’ bedrooms are absolute shitholes that were in such desperate need of being cleaned that I risked it. I am paying for it dearly. Oh, last night Wylder woke up and his damn sippy cup spilled all over the bed so I had to stay in one position so that I wouldn’t roll into the wet spot.

I tried to sleep in a little but realized that I needed to go see Gavin’s teacher so I should probably look remotely decent.

Then the dog….ugh…. he followed me, nipped at my ankles, and slammed into my legs while I tried to get my morning cheerfulness on.

Thankfully, Billy was able to pick up the boys and bring them to school. Not so thankfully, the dog yakked all over the couch minutes after he left. Possibly, it was his anniversary gift to us… totally unappreciated though.

Let’s just hope that his gift isn’t a sign of how the rest of the day will go.

Having 4 boys and 1 girl = lots of “You must be happy that you got your girl!” or “Your poor daughter will never get a boyfriend with all of those brothers!”.

Yes, having a girl is nice but having 4 boys is also nice… they are not less because I have a girl. Anya is more than capable of taking care of herself as well…she definitely does not need brothers for that.

She’s only 4 but she makes me fear the teenage years. A lot.

I was thrilled to have the chance to take pictures of my girlfriend’s newborn and even more excited because I had someone to watch the kids while I did it. For some stupid reason, at the last minute, I decided to bring Anya along. She would be my photography assistant…a task that even SHE was excited about! We snuck away in my Mom’s vehicle, which was parked behind mine.

On the way, we stopped at our favourite coffee bus and Anya immediately lined up the chocolate muffins. Beside the chocolate muffins were cake pops with sprinkles and Anya demanded that she get a chocolate muffin WITH sprinkles. I couldn’t convince her that there were no freaking chocolate muffins with sprinkles so she pouted. Nothing else was a suitable alternative to the fucking sprinkles.

I ordered, paid, and still…she pouted. It was the moment that I started walking out of the bus that she decided to flip her shit…”I WANT A MUFFIN!”. She absolutely refused to carry her hot chocolate so I ended up holding 2 coffees and her hot chocolate; the hot chocolate set precariously on top of the coffees and tucked under my chin while I struggled to find my keys.

By the time we reached the vehicle, she was in full out tantrum mode; nearly hyperventilating between muffin pleas.

Still struggling with the tower of scalding hot liquids, I set the hot chocolate on the front seat while I attempted to re-arrange the console to fit the coffees. And it happened…the cup fell over. You have got to be fucking kidding me… Anya was still screaming about the damn muffin, hot liquid was pouring all over the seat, and I could feel my brain on the verge of exploding.

What I wouldn’t give to leave my still screaming daughter in the middle of the parking lot while I peeled out of there…!! Instead, I got her in the vehicle, handed her the hot chocolate, and told her to stop crying so that I could clean up the mess.

By the time we got to my friend’s house, she was calm again. Inside, she was happy. And I am wondering how I will ever survive her teen years when she has hormonal teenage outbursts like that on a daily basis.

I like to greet Monday mornings with my usual gusto and enthusiasm. It’s probably a little less ‘gust the ono and enthusiasm’, a little more ‘please don’t let this day go to the shitter before I am fully awake’.

Mondays are the only day that I absolutely have to shower on and I desperately need the kids to stay in bed while I’m doing this. Wylder greeted me while I was drying off…crying. From in his kennel, the dog was yipping. And then I realized that it’s 6:15am and my day will not go well.

I was up way too late trying to read about it and I realized that reading about protein SUCKS compared to consuming it. (amino acids = big old snooze fest. Big ass steak = PARTY!!!)

My plan was to take a half hour to work more on the protein chapter of my book…plan schman!! The dog had puked in his bed and when I let him outside, he peed all over the step in front of the door. Then he decided to torment the still sleeping kids by hopping into their beds! I was alerted to this by Anya screaming… she is doing well with her fear of dogs but nothing like a good jolt to the heart when a dog jumps on you in your sleep.

I managed to sneak online for 3 minutes and there was a super great quote on my friend’s Facebook wall: “My children are not going to be a part of today’s problems, they will be part of the solution.” It totally motivated me to get my kids to be part of the solution but they were unwilling to make me breakfast. They also didn’t want to hear about all of the cool things I learned about the digestive tract.

As if…farting at the table is appropriate for an 11 year old but apparently it’s inappropriate table talk when I discuss the length of the large intestine or how fermenting sugars in the small intestine is what causes the farting. Phhft.

After shoving the 3 boys out of the vehicle (tuck and roll, boys!!!), I treated myself to a coffee and bought the wee sprouts an iced hot chocolate (that’s just code for chocolate milk…go figure). Then I came home to something that I totally expected… someone finds my blog offensive. Something like that would have totally gotten me down before….now it just gives me more reason to keep blogging.

Here’s the thing…this is MY blog, MY life, and that fancy X in the corner gives you the freedom to not read it anytime you wish. 😉 Swears may not be necessary but I really don’t give a shit.

Sometimes my days can start completely shitty and turn out amazing. I had a great chat with Sabrina (from Fetch Haus), coffee with my husband, a walk with the dog, and managed to get in quite a bit of reading time! Take THAT Monday!!

My kid has a crazy water fetish. I am trying to be breezy since it’s just water but come the fuck on… he’s gotta fill shit with water on a daily basis and dump it on the floor? The dog’s water bowl has become a private pool for all of his little mini figures. Yes, I bet Buzz desperately needed a bath but the dog doesn’t quite grasp the fact that there is water in there and he gets a bit of a stupid look going on when Buzz is staring back at him.

(Related to that; Dear Wylder, Get out of the dog’s bed! No wonder he bites your ears! You annoy the shit out of him when you are sprawled out across the damn thing and now he’s starting to sleep on my throw pillows. I can’t get comfortable on the couch when the pillow I’m laying my head on smells like dog ass. I just can’t!!)

Back to this water business…. had I known you would fill a handbag with water, I wouldn’t have convinced Anya to go find you another purse while you were going apeshit on her because you wanted her Dora purse.

I’m in the middle of making myself a latte when the handbag starts pouring water through the bottom. It takes less than 3 minutes to make a latte and I can’t just stop steaming my milk! I just finished a cooking marathon, my feet hurt, every dish in our house is dirty, I am unshowered, and my lunch is getting cold… 3 fucking minutes for you to not get into shit is not a big fucking deal! I promise!

And really, Gavin…when I ask you to grab the bag, can you please not walk as slow as you can while it still drips all over the floor?

My damn knees are sore from soaking up small lakes worth of water off of my floor. And I feel guilty because I read the chapter in my book about water. Little people need to get themselves outside so that my head doesn’t explode.


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