Life Family and the Pursuit of Sanity

or… adventures in infertility and babies and family drama!

The Stupid, It Hurts February 20, 2014

Filed under: Big C,Family — arminta @ 7:38 am

This happened yesterday, on Facebook. Because, that’s where I live, now.


Big C: This movie is sooo scary and could happen for real! –Feeling: Scared, Watching: Vacancy

  • Me: WHAT?!?!?!?! Who is letting you watch that?!!? Turn it off!
  • Him: Aunt Wiccan is letting me watch it. It’s fine…
  • Me: Grrr…
  • His older brother: Turn it off! That’s totally inappropriate for you, and you JUST said you were scared.
  • Aunt Wiccan: Relax… he was born desensitized. LOL He hasn’t even jumped.


Being an older movie, I’m gonna guess no one’s gonna get pissed at “spoilers” being posted… the plot is a couple of creepy dudes lure people to a hotel, then brutally and suspensefully murder them and record it and sell it as murder porn. Of course, our hero and heroine are the ones who finally thwart their evil plans, which means, they get a double dose of horror.


Big C is 10.


I was 27 when I saw this movie, it still haunts me. Because, as he pointed out, it could happen. It’s not a fantasy based movie like dolls coming to life, or super natural dream killers. It is crazy balls realistic.


Also, Big C needs someone to go pee with him at night. So, kiss my ass he’s desensitized. Also, wouldn’t a desensitized 10 year old be a bad thing? Where were the younger kids? How much of this shit did they see?


Yeah, this is ignorance my sister thinks is “great” for her kids. I swear to piss I’d like to smack them all. The worst part is, although I took care of this child from the time he was born until he was 7.5, I have no say. I have no voice. They are ruining my baby, but he’s not mine. I want my baby back.


Four Easters! April 3, 2013

Filed under: Baby G,Family — arminta @ 2:54 am

You remember that scene in Talledaga Nights when the kids are all excited that their parents are getting divorced because it means two Christmases? What? You don’t watch old ass Will Farrell movies every night after your kid goes to bed? Shame on you!


Anyway, Nana moving to Rhode Island and having a bed bound great-grandma and having a whole other side of the family to boot is a lot like that. Except instead of two you get four! Yay! That means I made eight Easter baskets this year. Eight (three for Lil G + one each for the nieces and nephews) Easter baskets. I hid eggs three times. I am Eastered out, friends. Actually, I was Eastered out a couple of weeks ago. I had forgotten that real Easter was this week until Saturday afternoon. Because? Duh, it was Walking Dead day!


But, it was real Easter this past week. As I’m not religious, there was no church service. And, my mum lives out of state. And, my sister was there visiting her. And, my brother had to work. And, so did my Dad. And, the rest of my family IS religious, so they did have church services. I had no excuse to not have to go deal with my MIL. I was supposed to go watch my Mamaw for the Wiccans, but they cancelled on me. So, alas, I had to go.


It was not as bad as expected, but also worse. Seeing Uncle P was awesome, I miss him so much. And Bro C and Fire Crotch were pleasant (they were not last time I saw them). MIL was as grating as always. We just bring out the worst in each other, I think. I tried my hardest to keep my mouth shut and just let her play with the boy. But… there was smoking going on (outside, but if you can smell it, you’re breathing in too much smoke) and he had to be kept away. (Seriously people ASTHMA, ASTHMA!!! It’s a real fucking thing and grr!!) Of course she “doesn’t believe in asthma.” Doesn’t believe in it. Like the goddamn tooth fairy. I said nothing. When my baby started coughing and she made comments like “oh is that a “sign”?” I said nothing. (Yes!!! Coughing is a sign of asthma!!! Especially when people are smoking upwind of the asthmatic baby!!! I checked his breathing, moved him away from the smoke and gave him water as needed. Thankfully, he didn’t need his puffer. Of course, she doesn’t believe in “those puffers” either. For real. Even though she made several comments along the “I couldn’t do this all day” route I didn’t quip with “well, I DO do this all day, hence the less than spotless house.” I didn’t quip at all. No, I stood there on my aching feet and watched from a distance. When he bonkered his head and wanted me, I picked him up and ignored the constant barking of “Let Grandma see!” coming over my shoulder. I didn’t answer “Never!!!” to her constant refrains of “Grandma has this at her house for you to play with.” I feel I did the best I could. I wasn’t rude or bitchy. But, I was quiet. It was fine.


Today I had the fleeting thought “You know, I could let her take him to McDonald’s or somewhere to play and get the afternoon to myself.” And that’s when I knew. The floodgates are opening. Letting Aunt C watch the babies for my treatments (which I genuinely do not mind at all) paved the way, then going to Easter like all was well just added to the cracks. It’s not that she’s a bad Grandma, or that he doesn’t like her (why does he have to like her?). It’s that I can’t trust her to not paint me in a bad light to him. I know I can’t. I can’t trust her to not take the word of an imaginative two year old (FYI, my living room is frequently on fire due to all of the dragon attacks…) to children’s services. I can’t trust her to not take NORMAL marks (the kid jumps off of the furniture on the daily, he has marks) to children’s services. I can’t trust her alone with my son. Not because she won’t take care of him. But because she doesn’t have my families (and thus his) best interests at heart.


Learning is Fun March 3, 2013

Filed under: Baby G,Big C,Expanding Their Minds,Family,Ladybug,We're parents? — arminta @ 1:48 am

Oh Pinterest! I love you, but I hate you, too. Your recipes are mostly conglomerations of canned/boxed/processed ingredients dumped together to make “the best thing ever.” Your fashion advise is questionable at best. Your memes used to be second to none, but they are lacking of late. Your ideas for creative shit to do with my kids, though? AWESOME! Left to my own devices I’d never have come up with all of these activities. The kids love them, and the Dollar Tree is raking in the dough now that I have talked G into giving me an “educational supplies” budget. Which is mostly spent on baking soda, vinegar and crap from the dollar store.


Our first forray into Pinterest inspired mayhem was “Snow Paint.” Don’t let the name deceive you, this is not paint. It is shaving cream and white glue (equal parts). It does dry puffy.

Snow Paint

The idea was to paint paper snowflakes with the snow paint, then tape them to our picture window. We ended up with four snowflakes taped to the window.

Somewhere along the way, I decided “Hey, let’s give two two-year old’s glitter!” because Am.Dumb.

The reality of snow paint and glitter with toddlers.


Next, we decided to do a baking soda and vinegar experiment. But, I didn’t get all fancy with it. Just bowls of each element for each kid. Obviously, any time they can make a mess and create a fizz, it’s a good time.


The boy even made it a real experiment by making it “rain” into his “science.”


She is skeptical as to whether or not this counts as “experimenting.”


Let’s see, also, we made Mardi Gras crowns (while listening to zydeco music, which Lil Miss loved).

The cuteness is too much!

Please ignore the janky dishwasher, being held together by packing tape. It does a fine job washing the dishes, but the metal piece that covers the front part got dented and now falls out anytime the door is opened. So, I took it off.

I promise everyone is wearing underwear, their t shirts are just too long to see them. Also, we don’t wear pants.


One day when it was just me and Lil G I actually did a full on “invitation” and everything for the baking soda and vinegar game.

He had more fun mixing the colors with the syringes. How sad is it that I had 5 extra medicine syringes, and only one kid…



You know how sensory bins are a huge thing now? Yeah, I didn’t either, but Pinterest informed me otherwise… I went shopping for my first sensory bin on Valentines Day, thinking I’d get cheap Valentine’s stuff. No. The Dollar Tree had that shit cleared out and the green was in full effect. So, we have a St. Patty’s tub. Because they are two and have no idea.

My mom’s friend said “So, a sensory tub is just a box full of random stuff?” Yes, sometimes it is…


Lil Miss played with it for an hour. She doesn’t do anything other than sleep for more than five minutes at a time.


The boy, on the other hand, lost interest after about 20 minutes.

The most recent activity was another bin. But, this time it smelled good and had dinosaurs buried in it. Lil G still lost interest after about 40 minutes. Ladybug would have played in it all day if we didn’t stop to Skype with Nana.


Even Big C liked this one. I wish Pinterest had been around when he was little.

A real smile on a nine year old boy?!


As you can see, this is not an activity for those who like clean…

So, that’s what we do during the day… I have tons more ideas to try based on stuff I found on actually creative mommy’s blogs! I even “lesson planned” next week. This whole “having fun with the kids” thing is getting out of hand 🙂


Insanity Defined January 11, 2013

Filed under: Baby G,Big C,Family,Ladybug,Little C,We're parents? — arminta @ 2:39 am

Once upon a time I had these grand plans to be a fun Mom/Nanny. We were going to go out all of the time! The park, museum and places unknown were going to be our everyday experiences. Every now and again I start thinking that way again. Then I take all four of these little hooligans somewhere and by the time we get home I swear that I.will.NEVER do that again. It’s always the same thing, I don’t know why I think it will be any different…


At first one of two things happen: Big C REALLY wants to do whatever we’re doing, and thus is all excited and hyper acting or Big C really does NOT want to go wherever we’re going, in which case he wines/moans, drags his feet and picks fights. This is on top of two two year olds who think getting dressed to go bye-bye is some kind of endurance exercise for me (let’s run and laugh and take off all of the clothes she just put on us! yay!). Also, during this time Lil C (who is 5 and perfectly capable of getting himself ready to walk out of the door) is doing nothing to get ready, and is probably getting out a toy/game that will need to be put away before we leave.


Once we get outside, the toddlers immediately run into the yard rather than wait to be put in their car seats. I catch one and wrestle them into their seat while the other rolls in dirt. The big boys are fighting. I catch the other baby and wrestle them into their seat. The big boys are a) still fighting and b) not in their seats. I yell at the big boys to get in the car. They continue fighting.


As we drive to our destination, I play music to distract everyone. The boys fight over it. Ladybug drops a toy or takes off her shoes then screams at me for the entire trip to get it for her. Lil G wants everything Lil C has. Lil C wants everything both babies have. There is a fucking toy store in my seat and yet three children cannot be kept entertained for 15 minutes. Big C plays his iPod with the volume up so loud he’s in danger of violating noise ordinances.


When we arrive at wherever the hell we were going, I have an inner debate about just going back home, but decide to buck it up and stay the course. You know, follow through and boot straps and all that. We assign buddies (i.e. one big kid + one little kid) for the parking lot. The boys fight over who gets to be the chosen baby of the day’s buddy. I end up carrying one and holding the other’s hand while the big boys run ahead and forget all about us. They usually go into the building/onto the playground and just generally get ahead of themselves and me. Often I’m left to negotiate a door with both littles by myself.


Once inside/established at our destination things go smoothly for approximately 4.6 seconds. Then littles start trying to run off, bigs fight some more and people start giving me the hairy eye (not 100% true, I do often get compliments on how well-behaved they are in public, but a so frustrated by their private behavior at this point that everything irritates me). Everyone wants to do something different and Big C alternates between being up his sister’s ass and telling me “it’s not my fault if she falls and breaks her neck.” To which I reply “if she falls because you were up her butt it will be” and he gets all pissy. Lil C will take this time to vanish. He is a master at wandering off.


We find Lil C, and I start the “we’re going home soon” routine. Because “soon” means “at some in the next hour when I’ve had ENOUGH” and who knows when that will be. At this point I am exhausted and red-faced and aggravated and just want to go home and have a glass of wine and SIT DOWN. Because I am fat and have RA, but also because four children suck the life out of you at like octo speed.


When I have finally had enough of the fighting, running off, fighting and hairy eyeballs, I do make them leave. Getting back to the car is done at a snail’s pace. Once again bigs have forgotten the whole “buddy” concept and left me to wrangle toddlers who do NOT want to get back into the car. They do want to look at rocks and run. away. The big boys are fighting, again. I’ve finally reached my wit’s end with the fighting and tell them to be silent until we get home. So they start arguing with me and asking me for the specific conditions of the silence (i.e. if a car is coming and going to hit one of the babies can I make noise?). The irony is lost on them. I get the littles strapped into their seats while saying “Silent means don’t ask me all of these questions (OOH, I thought I just couldn’t talk to my brother…). Get in your seat and put on your seat belt.”


Finally everyone gets strapped in and we drive home. This drive is much like the drive to our destination, except one or both toddlers falls asleep. Which I prefer.


When we get home the big boys rush to the door, stand in my way while I try to unlock the door, then take off their coats/shoes and leave them in the floor (right next to the bin where they belong) in front of the door. I make two trips to carry in sleeping babies. If it can be swung, I stay in bed with Lil G after carrying him in. Usually I have to get back up and break up the fight that has erupted in the hallway right in front of the bedroom doors.


At this point I am exhausted and frustrated and grumpy, nothing has gotten done at the house and the children are no happier than they were before we left. So I swear to never, ever, do that again. Until I forget the misery and decide to do it again…


First World Problems December 23, 2012

Filed under: Family — arminta @ 12:48 pm

So, you guys know I’m a gifter. I LOVE giving gifts. I really do. To me there is little better than watching someone open a gift that you picked/made especially for them and seeing how much they love it. Sure, sometimes I don’t hit my target (Big C), and recently I haven’t really been able to afford to buy gifts for everyone I’d like to. But, I still consider myself a gifter, because if money were no object, I’d be making and buying shit ALL.of.the.TIME.


Because that is my nature it kind of bothers me when people who DO have lots of money are so grinchy. When I hear things like “oh they’re babies, they don’t really care about who gets more presents” or “I gave her an unexpected gift in the last 30 days, so I’m counting that towards Christmas” it just rankles me. Not because I think anyone is obligated to give presents, or because people don’t have the right to spend however they see fit, but because of the attitude. It seems like the attitude is more focused on the giver than the recipient. So, why bother giving gifts at all if it isn’t about the recipient? If your heart isn’t in it and your motivation isn’t bringing joy to someone, why do it?


That’s just me, expressing a little irk… I do realize, of course, that this little irritation is about as first world as they come. And, now that I’ve gotten it out am over it 🙂


Festering Black Hole of Negativity September 26, 2012

Ya’ll, I’m sorry that you only get to hear the bitching and whining (mostly) and that I’ve been a piss poor commenter lately. Where have I heard that before? Oh, right, my every single post for the last year! Good fucking grief.


I don’t know what I was thinking taking on nanny’ing and a small business and being home full time. I must have been out of my damned mind. I mean, for real. I feel pulled in every which direction, am frazzled and bitchy by 5pm every day (am I maybe tired from staying up all night? you, voice, can feel free to shut the fuck up!) and never feel like anything gets done. I make a list, I blow it off. Am.Lazy.


But, I’m not. I don’t feel like I get a break, ever. So, I guess, all of my dicking around and blowing off my list is my way of getting a break? But it doesn’t work. Sometimes I think life would be so much easier if I just got a job. But, I’d miss my little man too much. Plus, the whole point of staying home was to raise him up right and that job isn’t nearly done.


So, you want a little bullety synopsis of what’s up?

  • Nanny life: My sister, the ever game player, has been telling her kids that they’re going to daycare. She has not told me this. She did recently ask me to reduce my rate because the boys were in school now. I had to remind her that 1) I didn’t raise the rate this summer or last when I had Big C all day, so why would losing Lil C for a couple of hours a day warrant a rate change? and 2) I now have to drive to get the boys everyday which costs gas money and is an added expense due to their going back to school, also 3) the new school schedule completely fucked the babies nap schedule so I now get 0 time without at least one baby. To which she immediately began going on about how broke she is and how my husband makes more than she does. What the fuck does that have to do with anything? I wish that I was in the position to be able to watch the kids for free, but I’m not. That money is our grocery/household money. It feeds and diapers HER kids. So frustrating.
  • Also, Big C recently told me that his mother told him that I tried to “take him away from her” and that’s why they have to keep secrets from me. Oh my fucking god! There’s a big ass can of worms. For the record… I did see an attorney to determine how to best handle custody and substance abuse issues. A long time ago. When it was clearly an issue. I told her then that I didn’t want her kids, I wanted HER to want her kids. I told him “Your mom was not well back then and I took measures to be sure you’d be with family and not separated from your brother, no matter what. I’m very disappointed that she would bring that up to you.” If it gets brought up again, there’s no guarantee I won’t tell him the whole fucking truth.
  • As if that wasn’t enough, his ADHD/ODD is out of control. Probably partially due to the fact that his “dad” is talking about getting married. Partially due to the fact that his mom is playing crazy mind games. And, a lot to do with new school year/new school stresses. I have said umpteen trillion times that I’d take him to some kind of sport/class to help with discipline and with getting him into someone else’s hair. My mom has offered to pay for such activity. He has not been enrolled. He also has yet to see a behavioral therapist because “a girl a work has similar issues with her kid and a therapist didn’t help them.” So, why bother doing what’s best for your kid, right? I mean kid”S” because his bullshit stresses the other kids, too.
  • You know what else? My MIL is a bitch. Not new news, I know. This psycho actually called my husband and offered him $1k out of nowhere today. Because money is the key to making up for being a family wrecking bitch? Oh, wait, no, that’s a sincere apology, and actually feeling remorse for being such an evil, nasty, mean spirited, ignorant, crazy bitch. #NeverGonnaHappen.
  • But, here’s something that did happen… for some unknown reason my husband felt the need to tell this insane person that he wasn’t “allowed” to talk to her anymore because the therapist and I said so. Un-motherfucking-believable. Grow a pair of goddamned balls. No mention of his decisions. No mention of the umpteen million times I’ve said “you are a grown up and can make your own decisions, but, my son will not have a relationship with her unless she agrees to family counseling.” Which, personally, I think is pretty damned reasonable. No, he just throws me under the bus, again.
  • The counseling is a bit mixed. She’s spending a lot of time on teaching biblical marriage principles. Which, OK, fine. I mean the top thing she keeps talking about is “protection” and he threw me to fucking wolves just this week, so I’m starting to think this is a waste of money and time. Use the “talking stick” and you’ll never fight again… follow the bible and your marriage will be awesome. Whatever… Seriously, here’s how the issues stack up. His w/ me: I sometimes let the baby play with things he probably shouldn’t, I don’t keep the house as clean as we’d both like and I don’t like giving blow jobs all of the time. Mine w/ him: He doesn’t stand up for our family in a mature way with people who are attacking us, he treats me like the help, he hovers over me second guessing my every decision related to the baby, he spends WAY too much money and I’m left to pick up the pieces and the list goes on. There has been “some” improvement since counseling started, but none in the most major of issues.
  • My kid won’t pull down his pants and piss in the potty. Even for chocolate. Oh, he’ll go if he’s nude, but cover up that bird and he pisses every where.
  • I’m broke. Not BROKE, but “broke.”
  • My RA is crazy. Which is probably the catalyst for the depression and bitching. I actually found something that helps. But… it makes me sleepy for days. And, G bitches whenever I take it. Also, I don’t like the way it makes me feel (well, I like the longer term feeling, but the immediate feeling is to intense for me). So, I is screwed.
  • The icing: G asks me the other day “are we going to have another baby or what?” No, I’m not kidding.

Not So Private… March 15, 2012

Filed under: Completely and Entirely Unrelated to IF,Family — arminta @ 12:24 pm
Tags: ,

So, it appears I’m being stalked. Awesome.


Remember back when I mentioned that a lot of my search results were making it look like someone was intentionally searching for me? Yeah, well, 20 minutes after I posted this last night, my phone rang. It was an “unknown” number. Needless to say, I did not answer. I am not interest in speaking to anyone at 1am, let alone someone who feels they need to use an “unknown” number. As if I don’t know who it is.


As I’ve said before, I’m not letting anyone else dictate how I live my life. This includes how I blog. I’m not moving or shutting down again because someone else feels the need to be a nosy, busybody. But I do want to acknowledge that I know you’re there. You’re not slick. You’re not pulling one over on anybody. You’re not influencing the way life is lived in this house. I haven’t even mentioned it to anyone else. I won’t mention it, either. Because, I don’t talk about you. You are not a topic of conversation in this house.