Another Alarm Indicent

Be sure to read yesterday's "Justifiable Homicide?" post before reading this one...or it just won't make sense. Go ahead. I'll wait.
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*getting drink*
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do be do be dooo...
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Okay done? Good! Here we go :)

SOOOOOO! this morning was even better than our normal morning alarm ritual. But let's back up to last night.

We're laying in bed and I ask if the alarm is still set for 5:20 knowing that he doesn't get out of bed until like 6:15. He says that it is and that it's staying set at that time because he can't get up the first, or second, or third time the alarm goes off.

Yeah, that's great dude. BUT I DO wake up for all those. :[ err

He just doesn't get it. He conceeds it's frustrating but he's trying to do better. yeah..uh huh.

Well this morning starts like every other. I admit that I was REALLY tired (I stayed up till nearly 1am) so I was able to fall back asleep after a couple rounds of the beep.

As I lay there blissfully sleeping I faintly hear the alarm. It's getting louder and louder in my head but as I start to wake it seems it's not really getting louder and that it's just been going off for a while. Nothing new there! LOL But then I realize that Peter isn't in bed. He's IN THE SHOWER! hahahaa So now I have to roll over and try to shut this alarm off. Something you think would be easy but I'm convinced a wanna-be air travic controller designed the face of this thing with all the teeny buttons and switches.

After picking it up and weighing the options of turning it off or throwing it out the window I hear Peter open the shower door and shout out "yeah sorry about that babe, I'll make it up to you"

the turd.

No news yet at to what he'll do to make it up to me. If I know him it'll be something more for him than me...hahaha if you know what I mean.

Justifiable Homicide?

I just may kill him. I would probably even get away with it. NO jury in their right mind could convict me after hearing what I've had to put up with EVERY BLOODY DAY!

You see, it's my husband. He's...well...not a morning person. Which would be find if he didn't turn into THE SINGLE DUMBEST PERSON on the face of the planet EVERY SINGLE MORNING. Well not EVERY morning. Just those that involve the alarm clock.

He has what most would think would be the coolest alarm clock in the world. It's faaaancy. With two separate time functions. A nap function. Radio alarm. Beep alarm. And the piece de'resistance, the "start really quiet and get louder and louder and LOUDER buzzer" function.

BRILLIANT YOU SAY???!

oh it is...unless you're married to the man who becomes THE SINGLE DUMBEST PERSON on the face of the planet EVERY SINGLE MORNING. You see, first off, he doesn't actually hear the buzzer when it first goes off (or so he says) I hear it the minute it clicks on.

So it starts 5:20 am
beep beeep beep I nudge him beep beep beep
Nothing beep beep beep I nudge again
beep beep beep "Peter, babe, the alarm" beep beep beep
"PETER TURN OFF THE ALARM" (shaking him)
beep beep beep nothing beep beep beep
"Peter, BABE, the alarm" beep beep beep
"huh?" (like this is the first time he's ever used an alarm clock)
"the alarm... beep beep beep ...turn it off!!"
"what?" (turns over, yeah he's never had to get up for work before!)
"OH! you've got to be kidding me, PETER! THE ALARM!"
(SHAKING HIM)
beep beep beep
"HUH?" (sits up)
"TURN OFF THE ALARM"
beep! beep !! beep!!!
oh (fluffs pillow) --- I kid you not, he fluffs the damn pillow at this point. every morning this happens---
BEEP! BEEP!! BEEEEEEP!!!
BEEP! BEEP!! BEEEEEEP!!! "PETER!!!!!!!!"
BEEP! BEEP!! BEEEE click.

Thank God.

This happens every 5 minutes for at least 30 minutes, but an hour isn't uncommon. Why every 5 and not the typical 9? Well this technologically advanced alarm clock has 2 time settings remember? Well Einstein over here sets them one after another. The first goes of at 5:20. The second at 5:25. The first again at 5:29. The second again and 5:34.

IT'S PURE MADNESS.

See? Admit it. You couldn't convict me....could you?

"Don't be nervous mommy"

Well we ALL survived Noah's trip to Cali. He made it home safely after a solo flight. I have to admit I was a tad bit nervous about his flying by himself. Not so much about his safety. Hell, he's probably safer on an airplane alone than at the mall with me and Peter! All the same, I was worried.

So what about you ask? Well, honestly, that he'd freak out while boarding and make everyone's life hell. He's really a pretty good kid. And will go along with most everything. But when he gets scared there's no telling what he'll do. Stopping dead in his tracks half-way down the jetway isn't unfathomable. But he didn't. He did great.

And believe it or not, after a short talk with him the day before his flight I was okay too. HE was the one who calmed me down actually. My dad must have said something to him about my concerns because he said (during one of our 5 daily phone conversations) "don't be nervous mommy" I said, "why not sweetie?" He replied, "Because I won't be nervous."

He's a smart kid! And it worked. I did pretty good.

Now he's sad at night because he misses Grandpa. "I wish he could live with us. I wish our WHOLE FAMILY can live with us" That's his solution.

Yeah babe, THAT'S not gonna happen. Loooooooove my fams and all, but that ain't happening!

"I love you more than..."

A thousand cows!! BEAT THAT BAY-BEEE!!! That's how much Noah loves me.

GO ME!!! GO ME!!!!

He's "like a shiny new penny" today according to my dad. A good night's sleep does wonders. He's decided to stay with grandpa for the full 2 weeks. Although I suspect many many phone calls throughout the day is in order. It's 4:30 pm and I've talked to him 5 times. Thank goodness Ma Bell isn't running the joint anymore or we'd all be broke.

So I'm going to finish up my work day excited that my cute little boy is happy staying on his little vacation and knowing that he loves me more than a thousand cows. That's a lot ya know?!

Nothing to say? NEVER!

I wasn't sitting here staring at a blank blog entry wondering what to write about for 2 minutes before something happened to talk about.

Noah called (for the 4th time today) and asked if he could come home this saturday rather than next saturday. Poor guy. He misses me.

It's flattering and all but at the same time I want him to be able to spend 2 weeks with his Grandpa without being all depressed. And I know it's just the night time blues talking. During the day he's having a ball.

So I don't know what to do. On one hand, if he's really upset then I'll fork out the 100 bucks to change his flight, no problem. But on the other hand, I know he'll have more fun there than here and he won't be here an hour before he regrets coming home. But how do I rationalize that to a 6 year old???

These are the kinds of problems I wanna have. Do I spend my vacation on the beaches in California with Grandpa or watching Sponge Bob with Mommy??? decisions, decisions.

He misses me, he really misses me.

Well so much for the pity party I was planning on having for myself about Noah not missing me. LOL He's calling me 3-4 times a day. How sweet is that? So he is missing me...I'm wondering if he is a little to much :)

The first call today was at 6:50 am. I'm lucky it wasn't at 6:15 as that's when he normally wakes up. But I hear Grandpa has threathened his life if he gets him up before 7:00. (so he did get a little talking to today...as papa needs to dial the phone! LOL)

So even from another state this child, who doesn't seem to understand that the numbers on the clock REALLY DO move and they REALLY WILL change from a 6 to a 7, wakes me up.

okay....I just re-read this entry and how impressive is this? I managed to complain about not being able to complain, then found something to complain about that SHOULD be a good thing, then complained about complaining about it.

I've got skillz!

"He'll be okay"

That's what everyone is telling me this weekend. "He'll be okay" You must be wondering why. Well maybe not, but here it is anyway.

I sent my baby on plane yesterday with my dad...he'll be gone 2 WEEKS!!! It's going to be a loooong 2 weeks, for both of us. He called me tonight and was all mowpy and pouty saying he misses me. I miss him too. This is the longest we've been apart - ever. 6 years and this is the longest. To top it off he's flying back home ALONE. What is the world was I thinking??? Alone? ugh. I just have to keep telling myself that he will be okay.

I miss him.

He'll be okay. He'll be okay. He'll be okay. He'll be okay.

Oh hell...who am I kidding. It's ME we need worry about. Will I be okay?

How could I have forgotten?

I forgot to mention the conversation my son and I had after he tossed his cookies.

We were sitting on the couch just chillin before I sent him back to bed (remember, it's the middle of the night). He asks me,
"Mommy? Are you still sick?"
I answer, "yeah sweetie, just a little bit but I'm feeling much better."
To which he proclaims, "Well I'm sicker than you, because I threw up and you didn't."

hahahaaaa - smart boy.

How long is this going to take?

Wanna know what really got me started on this blog thing? (yeah I'm sure you're fascinated!) Well it was the events of the last couple days and the realization that what's gone on this week, as busy as it's been, is pretty typical for my life. Now, to most, it's probably stupid boring family stories. The kind of crap that only I'll find funny. But what the hell, I figured I should right about it anyway.

At 4pm Tuesday, as I sit at my computer trying to work, I got sick. That's right, straight up 4 o'clock. It was the strangest thing. A friend told me once that that's how you can tell if you have the flu or just a cold. If it creeps up on you over time where you start feeling icky and it just gets worse and worse, then it's a cold. But if it hit you BAM! like a ton of bricks so hard that it causes you to check the time, then it's the flu.

So down I was, with the flu. That's not the funny part, just in case you couldn't tell.

Well this part isn't funny either. After my day in bed. A day that consisted only of popping mexican antibiotics and tylenol like they were pez candies and switching from my left to my right side in bed. I woke to find I'd given the flu to my son. My cute 6 year old boy who's hardly ever sick so he doesn't really know how it all works and why is throat and head hurts.

Poor little boy, he's so damn cute....and so dramatic. Day one of his flu went the same as mine. Although I didn't make him take the smuggled-into-the-country-by-my-husband's coworker Antibiotics, I actually took him to the doctor for the legal stuff. And I didn't double up the dose for him like I did for me. So his recovery would likely be longer.

Well the action started that night. His fever was pretty high and he woke me up SCREAMING that his tummy hurt and that he thought he was going to throw up.

It was quite a sight. I shot up in bed to a child holding his tummy yelling "MOMMY MOMMY I'M GOING TO THROW UP" Pathetic that I think this is funny. So I tell him not to stand there and hurry him into the bathroom. He's a mess. Bless his heart, he's only thrown up one other time and it was when he was like 3 and strapped into his carseat (that's a mess I won't go into) so he just didn't really know what to do.

But I herd him into the bathroom and tell him to get on the floor. He motions like he's going to aim for the floor. I correct him, aiming his head over the toilet. (I didn't realize that one needed to 'learn' the proper throwing-up technique). So he finally tosses his cookies, not a lot, just like phlem. Then he does again. Poor guy. He's on his knees on the bathroom floor with glorified dry heeves. He's crying and in pain and I'm standng behind him trying to comfort him. He pushes my hand off his back, barking at me to "stop touching him!"

And then, after about the 4th heeve ho, he looks up at me through the mirror - still on his knees with his hands on each side of the bowl - and yells at me in this half screech/half whine tone, "HOW LONG IS THIS GOING TO TAKE?!?!?"

I feel terribly about it, but I kid you not, it was the funniest thing a sick 6 year old boy could ever say. He's still a little sick, but no longer tossing his cookies. I've given him free reign of the thermometer so I'm getting hourly readings of his temp. Right now, it's 99.1F.

I've caved.

I cannot believe it. I really can't. I've caved. As an old friend of mind used to say, I folded like a bad lawn chair.

I started a blog.

I have know nothing about blogs. Shit, I don't even read them. And until about 30 minutes ago I didn't even care anything about them one way or another. So I'm wondering why I started one.

There isn't a group of family members or friends that hounded me about putting my thoughts down for all to see. And I certainly don't have a great writing style. Or a writing style at all.

And I swear, curse that is. Sometimes like a sailor even. This will probably get me in trouble from the blog police. Is there a blog police? Aw well, what can I say? I live on the edge.

So here I sit, starting something else that I don't have time for. I have 3 kids, and a husband, so really 4 kids. I have 2 jobs. yeah...two. And a salt water fish tank that we are TRYING to keep fish alive in. You might be surprised how much time THAT takes. What business do I have spending time on something as pointless as a blog? And WHAT THE HELL does blog even mean? well that's another entry...

So I ask again, what business do I have doing this? Well...my life, my little life, seems to be full of constant drama. And I've decided that these little episodes need to be written down. Not for you, necessarily. Although, secretly, I enjoy the thought of people hanging in my every word (HA! yeah like that's gong to happen!) But I need to write them for me. For my family. Someone needs to write this crazy crap down. Who else is going to do it?