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Young Love: Confessions Of A Broken Housewife

19 Dec

We’ve all been there..young and in love. We think, “This is it. This is going to last FOREVER.” We are so ready to grow up and start a family. I’m here to tell you, it’s not that glamorous. Also, it doesn’t always last forever. I wouldn’t trade my kids for the world, but if I could go back and have them later in life, I would. They would more than deserve it.

When I was 16, I met The Ex. He was The BFF’s boyfriend. We all went out to shop one day and, when we returned,  The BFF decided he was too shy for her. I told her he was nice and she should give him a shot. She promptly handed over his number and said, “If you like him, then YOU CALL HIM!” When he called her later, she handed me the phone. We became good friends. Right before my 17th birthday, he became my boyfriend. I will never forgive The BFF for that. (just kidding)

Our rocky, on/off high school relationship ended for a good 4 months right before graduation. I graduated and moved to Baton Rouge with a good friend for about a month, moved back, started nursing school, and was working full time at a dry cleaning place. I eventually reunited with The Ex, moved in, and decided I was in love. “This is it. This is going to last FOREVER.” Before I knew it, I was 20 years old, pregnant, unemployed, and had long quit nursing school.

Now, I’m 26, going through a dirty divorce, 2 kids, unemployed, and no degree to fall back on.

My advice?
*Stay in school. Finish college.
*Find a good job. Keep it.
*Birth Control. Children are wonderful. Have them later.
*DEPEND ON NO ONE BUT YOURSELF. The longer you wait to do it, the harder it gets.

As it turns out, Domestic Goddess doesn’t really have a spot on resumes.

And when you meet that guy that thinks you are beautiful with no makeup on, pushes your hair back out of your face so he can look you in the eyes, kisses your forehead, sends you “Good morning, beautiful.” texts, and does all the other things facebook quotes tell you guys should do, do me a favor:

Look deeply into his eyes, smile..then punch him in that pretty face and yell, “LIES!” Then go do your homework.

Household Cleaning and Organizing Done Right

14 Dec

People ask me all the time,

“L, what are your best house cleaning tips?”

Just kidding. No one asks me that. Ever. But I have the best kept house cleaning/organizing secrets ever. I’m going to share them with you today!

First, ask yourself, “Who makes the most messes around here? Husband or kids?” There are very different guidelines for each.

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If you answered “kids”:

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This one is more difficult than dealing with a hoarding, messy husband, but there are more options.

*You can try chore charts to teach responsibility. Have your kids put each toy or activity away before they are allowed to get out something else, clear their own plates, make their own beds..shit like that.

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*Allowances work wonders. Reward the good behavior.

*Confine them to one small area of the house, preferably near a bathroom. Less area to clean & you have the rest of the house to yourself.

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*Last, if all other options fail, check out your state’s Safe Haven Law. I think there are usually age limits, but I’m pretty sure those are just a suggestion. You will need to first convince your children that your full name is Mommy McMommerson. Tell them you are going to visit the firetrucks! It will be fun!

If you answered “husband”:

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This one is so easy! I like to call it The D.I.V.O.R.C.E Method.

*D is for, well, Divorce.
*I is for dIvorce.
*V is for diVorce.
*O is for divOrce.
*R is for divoRce.
*C is for divorCe.
*E is for divorcE.

I don’t know why this isn’t more widely known as an effective method. It makes such a HUGE difference. You know that saying, “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks”? Likewise, you can’t teach an old bastard to stop being a fucking pig.

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I was an amazing housewife, truth be told. I clean a little, cook a little, and copulate a lot. I will not, however, be your mama. Put your dirty laundry in the laundry basket. Put your dirty dishes in the sink. Remember that thing you empty once a week, only because I killed you twice with my death glare when it overflowed? It’s called a trashcan. Put your damn trash in it.

Booooooom! Clean house.

*Disclaimer: Calm your tits. I do not actually advocate dropping your kids off at the fire station unless it’s necessary for their safety. The rest of this post is spot on. Trust me.

Bottle of Wine: $19.99, Cheesecake: $8.49, Fifteen Minutes of Silence: PRICELESS

8 Mar

I love my family. I really, really do. Those 3 people are my heart, my life…they are my world. I really do LOVE being a stay at home mom and once both kids are in school, I will probably spend my days wishing I had these days back. I rant about them a lot, but I truly do enjoy my family.

Now, with that said, can everyone just calm the eff down for a minute? Please? Dayum!

Here is a little PSA:

Moms get over-stimulated, too!

All day long, the kids are yelling:

Mommy! Mommy! Mom..momma..moooommmmmmaaaaa! I’m hungry! I’m thirsty! Wipe me! I want chocolate milk! No, regular milk! I wanted JUUUIIICCCEEE! I said I needed to be wiped! Can I go outside? Can I come inside? Can I go pee? Can I sit down? Can I stand up? Can I spin in a circle? Can I breath air? Hey, mommy! Watch what I can do! OWWWWW! I did that thing you told me not to do and I hurt myself on the coffee table! WHY DID YOU PUT THE COFFEE TABLE THERE?! Little girls can jump off the couch and get HURT when you put coffee tables in the living room! FEEEEED MEEEEE!

Meanwhile, in the background, the tv is screaming:

Spongebob Squarepants, spongebob squarepants, spongebob squarepants, sponnnngebobbb squarepannnnnnts…

…and all I can do is lock myself in the bathroom for 2 minutes, sit in the empty tub, and rock back and forth while hugging my knees and loudly singing Livin’ On A Prayer. I pray that Hubby will hurry home to help out, but the second he walks through the door:

(((CHILDREN)), Hubby, [Television]

(((DADDDDDDDYYYYY!!!))) Hey! What have you been doing all day? (((I’m SOOO hungry!))) Where are my jeans? Can we eat? Did you lay anything out? [Spongebob Squarepants, Spongebob Squarepants..] (((*Samurai loudly sings made up song*))) Have you seen my shoes? Hey, will you come help me for a minute? Babe? Baby? (((Can I have a popsicle??))) Why do you look so stressed? I know, I’ll turn the TV up really loud– as though I have a legitimate hearing problem! That will make you feel better! (((Mom! Come in the bathroom..I pottied and it looks funny..))) About dinner..Why are your eyes burning holes into my skull? Oh, you want the TV louder? [It’s the best day EVVVEEERRRR..] (((She’s looking at ME!)))


My smidgen of remaining sanity… my livelihood… my ability to love–each relies heavily on two things:

My kids’ bedtime and Hubby’s nightly shower

Those 15-20 minutes are so refreshing. That’s all it takes to be reminded of all the reasons I’ve never actually run away. During that sacred time, I get to drink wine, I get to stuff my face with whatever junk I can find without anyone seeing the animal I really am, and I get to do it—in total frickin’ silence.


PRICELESS.

Remind Me To Never Put Things Where I Can Easily Find Them

6 Mar

It happens Every. Single. Time. And, please, tell me it happens to you too… I came home, put my purse down, and walked around for a bit while holding onto my keys. Realizing that my keys were still in my hand, I decided I should put them up before I accidentally lost them. My purse was too far away for me to bother walking, so I just stuck them in the first easy-to-remember-but-out-of-children’s-reach place I saw. Bad idea.

I woke up early this morning for my appointment. I was proud of myself–I was going to be able to get myself and the kids ready, then have time to kill before having to leave to get there 10 minutes early. I get ready, feed the kids, then head to grab something from my car…it’s locked. I walk into my bedroom, open my drawer–where I’m certain I left the keys, but the keys aren’t there. That’s right, I put them on top of the fridge. Hmm, not there either. Oh! My bedside organizer thing! Duh! Nope. On the shelf in the living room, by the door? Nah-uh.

WRONG! THEY AREN'T THERE!!!!

On top of the microwave?

On the coffee table?

In the bathroom, where I’ll see them while getting ready?

In my make-up bag?

In the laundry room?

Under my bed?!

Down under the couch cushions?!

In the box my new camera came in?!?!

Dear God, WHERE ARE THEY?!

My car is push-to-start and, I swear, I even carried the trash bag out to my car and held it up to the door while pressing the button and praying the door unlocked (I was not about to dig through the trash without being sure they were in there..). An hour of searching, and I still have no clue where they are. I finally called and rescheduled my appointment. It’s also Hubby’s birthday and I was supposed to go get his cake before he gets home from work. Now, he will likely come home to a completely destroyed house and find me stuck upside down in the big trash can…desperately searching for the keys. /WIFEFAIL

It’s just like when I hide things from the kids. I hide the thing I do not want them to find and–go figure—I’ve hidden it from myself, too. Why does this happen?

Why, God, WHY?!

It’s not just me, right? …..RIGHT?!?

First World Problems of a SAHM

26 Feb

First World Problems Of A Stay At Home Mom

  • I woke up 2 hrs before the kids. I wasted quality sleep.
  • I’m out of caffeine.
  • The children expect to be fed at least 3 times a day.

  • I am running late for something, as usual.
  • WHERE IS YOUR OTHER SHOE?!
  • I can’t find the DVR remote. How am I going to do anything if I don’t have SpongeBob on demand to occupy the children?
  • The baby took off her diaper in her crib at nap time. She had pooped.
  • Laundry

  • I just poured the kids’ cereal, only to discover that I’m out of milk.
  • I have to go grocery shopping…with the children.
  • Another toy is clogging the toilet, yet someone pooped in it anyway.
  • I woke up later than the toddlers. They found my craft drawer.
  • Why must I listen to the kids fight over which one gets which color cup?!
  • The baby is poopy. DAMN IT! I’m out of diapers.
  • The parents in McDonald’s play area keep trying to talk to me about their kids.

  • I forgot to lay out dinner.
  • Hubby didn’t take out the trash. It’s full and the trash can is by the road.
  • Someone colored on my couch.
  • My corkscrew is missing.
  • There is nothing interesting to read on the interwebz.

  • I have a stomach virus.
  • The children have a stomach virus.
  • I’m out of wine.
  • The kids finally learned to open the doors on their own.
  • Baby gates are no longer effective.

(These are not necessarily all mine. I compiled the list from other SAHMs, as well.)

Tell me yours and I might add them to the list!

*Disclaimer: I am very well aware that I did not create the “First World Problems” meme. Not claiming to, either. There are a lot of FWP of SAHM posts out there. Just clarifying.

Married With ADHD: The Blame Game & Future Headline News

24 Feb

The Blame Game is super popular around here. Having been diagnosed with a pretty severe case of ADHD and being married to a man who has also been diagnosed, I assume it’s fairly normal.

-Where are my shoes?
-Last time I was wearing them…
-If you don’t help me find them, I’m going to be late!

-Have you seen my keys?
-No, have you seen mine?

-Where did we park?

-Why didn’t you remind me to turn?! Now, we’ve missed our exit and can’t turn around for 2 miles!
-I forgot where we were going! Besides, you didn’t remind me to remind you!

-Can you remind me that I have an appointment tomorrow?
-Sure, if I remember.

-I forgot about my appointment today and can’t be seen again for another two months! Why didn’t you remind me?!
-I forgot, too! It’s not my responsibility to keep up with your appointments!

-Tomorrow night, we cannot get sidetracked and wait until 12 AM to go to bed!

-Hey, you ready for bed?
(hyper-focusing) -Yeah…5 more minutes! I’ve just got to finish this one thing…
-Seriously? It’s 10 PM!
(2 hrs later) -Okay, I’m done. You ready?
-Give me just a minute, I’m reading something..

-I’m going to make a grocery list so we won’t forget what we need..

-Where is the grocery list?
-Fuck! I forgot it!

-When do I get my ring?
-What ring?
-The ring you said you were having set with the emerald you brought home for me from your last deployment…remember? You said you were going to have it set for me almost 2 months ago.
-Oh, umm..you didn’t remind me! You were supposed to remind to do the sweet things I claimed I was going to do for you all on my own!

On top of the forgetfulness and hyper-focusing, organization is a total bust. My husband also has a slight hoarding problem. If it’s free or someone is giving it away for “REALLY CHEAP!”, he brings it home. It doesn’t matter if we need it. Okay, I might have a problem, too. Maybe… but, ANYWAY! Every single one of our closets are packed full. I warn people that they shouldn’t open them, or do so at their own risk. Nine out of ten drawers are junk drawers. At one time, we had an entire room of “Shit that I have no clue where it goes..”. Now, that shit is spread around, randomly. I am just waiting for the day that headline news reads:

    Undomesticated Housewife & Hubby Found Buried Alive Beneath Their Own Clutter

Now, here we are..getting ready to move, and I’m totally lost. I’ll think somewhere like a bathroom is a good place to start packing,  but I quickly get overwhelmed and stop. Kitchen? Maybe.. But what first? Pans? Plates? Medicine cabinet? Sure, lets venture into the medicine cabinet and pack away the non-essentials.

Oh, look, here are Sugar’s crafts from Christmas! I should do something with these…they shouldn’t be packed with the medications..

Realizing I’m off track, I move to the pantry.

Hey! There’s the Tupperware I have been looking for..and brownie mix. Mmmmm, brownies. I should make some…

Screw it. I quit.

Winning At Discipline!

20 Feb

“Some’uh y’all done lost y’all minds,
Some’uh y’all done lost y’all minds,
Some’uh y’all done lost y’all minds,
And it made me cry, cry, cry.”
-Kilo Ali

Kilo wrote this chorus with me and my future children in mind. He was specifically thinking of how this past week would be for us, I’m fairly certain.

Lately, Sugar has been very, how do I put it?..DESTRUCTIVE. Sugar and The Samurai have both been destructive, really. It has gone way past the typical shredding of anything shreddable and disassembling anything with multiple parts. I have cleaned up insane amounts water, paint, whiteout, sugar (of the edible variety), salt, and toothpaste out of the children’s bathroom floor. I have scrubbed toothpaste out of rugs. I have cleaned cereal out of my living room floor. I cleaned glitter glue off of my hardwoods.

Not my kids.

I can’t let my 5 year old go potty alone anymore, nor can I go to bed at night without waking to some sort of unnatural disaster having occurred in one room or another. They either do it instead of pottying, pretend to be sleeping and do it once I’ve fallen asleep, or they wake up ridiculously early and do it before I realize they are up. I am just going to start including my Klonopin in my morning cocktail of drugs I take to function.

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I am already taking it damn near daily anyway! (Chill out, I have a script) Hell, I took a piece of one half-way through a grocery store run tonight–just to stop myself from parking the buggy containing the kids down an empty aisle..and running. Fast.

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I have tried every form of discipline known to man, short of stringing them in a tree by their toenails. That’s next.

I’ve gone the gentle route..talking. I think I’m doing it wrong. They smile at me the entire me I’m speaking. When I ask why they did whatever it was, they laugh and say something like, “Because my brain is a silly brain and it told me to!” Sometimes, they just say, “POOP!” /sigh

I’ve tried time-out. It isn’t effective for one of two possible reasons: 1.) They don’t care; or 2.) I have ADHD and forget they are in time out 30 seconds after I put them there. It’s probably both.

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I’ve tried “grounding” them from certain things. They haz no caring.

I’ve even done the unspeakable…I spanked. When your kids giggle while you are spanking them, you are doing it wrong. I am doing it wrong.

I give up.

When two people love each other very, very much..they make a baby. Or two.

19 Dec

I know I have been MIA again lately, but..nothing. I have no excuses. Well, I have one..sort of. I intended on this being a light-hearted and somewhat humorous blog (which is why the last post is gone..too much dramaz!), and the truth is: I don’t think I’m all that funny that often. Others tend to agree. In fact, my younger sister told me that the first time my dad read this blog, he said something along the lines of, “Huh. I didn’t know she could be funny.” Thanks, dad.

Annnnyway, I have a lot on my plate right now. Some of it is so top secret that my husband won’t let me even talk about it yet. If those who knew me did not know that I wrote this, it wouldn’t matter. BUT, I have friends who know and like to use my name when leaving comments or writing on the facebook wall. Thanks, guys! 😉 Now that I have gone off on another ADHD tangent, I’ll try to get back to what I was saying.

Ahem. I have a lot on my plate right now. I know they say that opposites attract, but that isn’t always the case. It isn’t in MY case. Aside from politics (SO not going there), my husband and I are pretty similar. We have a similar sense of humor, we like the same music, we were raised with most of the same values..I could go on. We also both suffered from anxiety as children (I still do) and both have pretty severe cases of ADHD. Apparently, when two people like us procreate, they end up with one child with such severe anxiety that she no longer wants to leave the house, and another who will ask you the same question 152 times and still say “What?” each time you answer with the exact same answer..all because there is something shiny in his peripheral prohibiting him from processing that answer.

Right now, the only time The Samurai’s issue is REALLY difficult for me to deal with, is when I tell him to go pee after catching him doing the I Need To Potty dance and he comes back soaking wet because, on the way to the bathroom,  he turned into Spiderman and his spidey-sense led him to another room where he had to hurry and defeat some bad guys before he turned into a transformer and had to save the world from a tyrannosaurus rex and OH, LOOK..shiny object!!!

My Sugar Boog’s anxiety is a bit more troubling. It is awful for her and, pretty much, for the rest of us, too. Even if it didn’t feel like a knife through my heart every time I had to watch her shake, scream, and cry in fear, it would still be difficult. If I don’t put her in the cart when we are shopping, she holds onto my jacket or pants so tight that it’s hard to move. If I do put her in the cart, she has a meltdown anytime my hands are not on the cart..even if I am staring at her. Do you know how hard it is to shop without being able to remove your hands from the cart? It is Pretty. Damned. Hard. She constantly reminds me that I “have 2 little children and you might lose them if you don’t hold onto the buggy!” Thank you, Sugar. I almost forgot that I spent months in agonizing pain before delivering each of you. She can’t help it, though. She says she knows I would never lose her, but she can’t make her brain stop thinking that I will. Oddly, while that really doesn’t make sense, I know exactly what she means. So, yeah, right now, her main fear is–getting lost. Her other fears: being locked in the car or other small areas (like bathroom stalls), being left at home by herself, and lastly–she is terrified that one of her parents will be put in jail. Reading that, you are probably wondering what the hell kind of parents we are to cause her to worry about those things. Really, it’s nothing we have done. She has never been lost (she has thought she was, when we were actually standing no more than a foot behind her), I have never locked her in the car or left her there alone, I have never left her home alone, and I’ve never even gotten a speeding or other traffic violation citation before! I’ve never even been pulled over for a busted tail light or anything. While I’m not 100% sure where her other fears originated, I DO actually know where her fear of police putting her parents in jail comes from. She told me. It came from “that baby show you were watching where those parents went to jail” (DON’T JUDGE ME!). F#CKING JENELLE AND KIEFFER!! It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have been watching my guilty-pleasure show in front of the kids. I tried to turn it off, but Sugar wanted to look at the babies. I didn’t know this would be the outcome. /facepalm

Sugar hasn’t had any major episodes like this is a long time. It has probably been at least 4-6 months.This one is by far the most crippling. She just doesn’t want to leave the house, nor does she want anyone else to leave the house. She tells me bye, that she loves me, and reminds me to pick her up 538 times before she will walk into the school each morning and her teachers say she recently started having meltdowns there. Tuesday, she had 4-5 inconsolable meltdowns while there. Makes me really want to pull her out of school. It’s just pre-k anyway, right? Anyway, right now, she is at my mom’s. They had their Christmas get together with my grandmother yesterday and I didn’t want them to have to miss it just because I did. I was terribly worried about how she would do, but she is doing surprisingly well. My mom says the only meltdowns she has are when they are in the car. She doesn’t want my mom to get out until Sugar is unbuckled–so she can ensure that she will not be left in the car.

We have an appointment with a psychiatrist at the end of January. I made sure to be put on the call list in case of any spots opening sooner due to cancellations. Until then, I am instructed to pretty much do what I can, within reason, to appease her. If she doesn’t want to leave to have a playdate at her friend’s house, she doesn’t have to. If she doesn’t want to accompany me to the grocery store and another option is available (staying with her father), we will go with the other option. We’ll do this until we are told otherwise (IF they tell us otherwise) at her psychiatrist appointment. It might be a long road, but we are going to do everything we can before resorting to medications. In the end, though, if medication is needed to make my sweet girl feel safe and not constantly terrified, medication it is. I just want her to feel safe and secure again!

Alright, enough rambling, too little cleaning. My house is a disaster and I’m about to go all Cracked-Out 50’s Housewife Who Also Suffers From OCD on this bitch. It needs it. Bad.

P.S.
I just realized that I thanked people a lot in this post. Ha! Guess I was feeling thankful. I’m so nice.

Toddlers aren’t really "my thing"..

26 Oct

I have decided that I’m not a huge fan of toddlers. Many of them don’t talk, they hit, they cannot wipe their own asses, they have no understanding of the word “no”, they are messy eaters, they are just messy in general, they hate nap time more than any other age group.. oh, and, they bite. Don’t get me wrong, I love toddlers. I just do not always like them. I used to. I used to see a kid aged 4 or under, and immediately wish I could pick it up…without seeming creepy, of course. Now, I keep toddlers in my house everyday. Now, they scare me.

The Hitter: Well.. she hits. All. Day. Long. My other kids are terrified of her. She cannot walk into the room without every kid in there bursting into tears, anticipating getting hit in the face with a car or other hard toy. I have tried redirecting, firmly saying no, time outs…she still hits. She can’t talk and some think that she hits because she doesnt know how else to communicate. Well, yeah, she is communicating loud and clear by hitting. She is saying, “I’m a tiny asshole!”


The Pooper: How many times can one kid shit in a day? Well, this kid goes at least 4 times in the short amount of time I have him. I’m not exaggerating. Everything goes STRAIGHT through him. I have a break from keeping him for a while since custody is split between his parents..and thank God. If I had to hear “I’m DONNNNEEEEE!!!” come out of his mouth one more time, I was going to lose it.

The Creeper: This kid creeps me out. He gives me evil glares and is never just.. nice. I try my damnedest to sweetly talk to him and play with him and I just get a cold, mean stare back and a, “NO.” He will also kung fu your ass in the face if you even attempt to get him to take a nap. He is completely relentless..he will cry until you finally say, “fuck it” and let him up. On top of everything else, his poop is rancid. I only keep him part-time, but I swear he saves up his shit for me. I can’t even double bag the diapers to keep the stench out. I keep a garbage can near me just in case I lose it and puke. RANCID.

The Manipulator: She is such a sweet child. She, however, has some serious, constant demands and follows them up with big puppy dog eyes and a “Pweeeze.” Nap time is a bitch with this one. She puckers up and pulls out all the stops. Makes you feel like shit for even considering making her nap. When you deny her requests, she drops to the floor and squalls.

The Baby: I have nothing negative to say. Best baby ever.

In conclusion, I’m an awful person.

Ewww, FREAK!

21 Oct

I haven’t posted much lately because I have been working on a few things.
Number 1: In-home Daycare. It deserves its own post, so I’ll get to that next.
Number 2: Adult Day Care

When my neighbor suggested opening an Adult Day Care, I still had THIS STORY  burnt into my brain and thought, “Ewww, FREAK!”

…And before I move on, let me just say–the person in that story with the REAL mental disability is the one taking care of the weirdo.
Anyway, she was actually talking about a place where the elderly go for care and socialization during the days when family members are working or just aren’t available to care for them. Whew!
After a lot of talking and researching, we decided to do it together. I never knew how much work goes into things like business plans. Holy shiz! When I’m not watching children and even during nap time, this is what I’m working on..phone calls, research, business plan, research, emails, and more research. I really hope my neighbor is better about staying on track with her ideas than I am. If its left to me, there will be a half written business plan or a half built building..I’ll half ass SOMETHING major.
Anyway, after a few weeks of all this, I’m not sure where it is going or if it is even going anywhere. Being a housewife just started sounding better and better. Still, that is one major thing that has been going on with me. It isn’t nearly as interesting as the adult baby story, so I’m going to touch on that with this picture that says EXACTLY how I feel about the freak. (F being PC, you know you are thinking the same damn thing.. F-R-E-A-K!)

Did I already say that I think he is a huge FREAK? Yeah, total f’ing freak.

Now, off to write my second post about how much I dislike children who didn’t come out of my vajizzle.. or, in my son’s case, out of a custom created hole in the area just below my belly button.

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