How freaking awesome is THIS schmidt?

Yesterday was just kinda crappy. The Peach hadn’t slept well so I was tired, work was dragging and I got stuck there an extra 40 minutes. There was yet another communication issue with Princess Punk’s school regarding the stupid field trip. Apparently, the nurse decided she WAS going to go and my mom didn’t need to. Nobody bothered to tell us. So, mom showed up at the school at 7:30am with Princess Punk and was summarily told to go home. Yay.

Then, after work I went to my mom’s, brought Princess Punk to soccer practice (remember, at this point I’m already running 40 minutes behind), had to stop at my house cuz The Princess forgot her cleats, then went back to mom’s to bathe the stinky Peach. Remember my resolution to bathe her more than once a week since she’s got all the chubb? Nunh Unh. I got soap in her eyes which pissed her off royally. She decided to be calm the rest of her bath and then express her displeasure after I dressed her. She yelled at me. If she could form actual words, I’m quite sure there would have been a whole lotta cussin.

Went home, handed The Peach to The Zen Master and went to Subway since my fridge needs to be cleaned and I just didn’t have the energy to deal with it at 7:30pm. The Subway in our town is part of the liquor store (yes, really.) and I went in with the $10 I had left before payday. I also had two $2 winning lotto tickets (woo) to help pay for my dinner and whatnot.

Um… No brainer.

I naively went to one of the new lotto vending machine thingys to redeem my tickets and was informed by said machine that I had chosen to redeem my tickets for new tickets. Somehow I don’t recall making that choice. At that point I was stuck because, “All sales are final” so I figured I’d get a scratch off, whatever. Then it only gave me one. So it basically ate $2. So I had to put my soda back. Ok, I didn’t have to put my soda back but it was either that or put back the chocolate I got for me and The Zen Master to share and really, which would you pick?

So anyways, standing in line to pay for my chocolate and sandwich and apparently there is some issue with the credit card machine and there is this dude standing in front with 2 bottles of vodka and a beer. Weird combo. I mean 2 bottles and some mixer, or even 2 bottles and a 6-pack even but ONE beer? I digress. I guess he paid for his beer in cash and as he is standing up there putting his beer into his backpack, the lady behind him in line pays for her booze in cash and then pulls (another) $50 bill out of her little purse and pays for Random Dude’s booze too. Like over 40 bucks. For alcohol for some random guy she didn’t even know. She told him to do something nice for someone else and went on her way. And I go up to the counter with my sandwich and candy and no soda because I don’t have enough money and wanted to share some chocolate with my husband. ~sigh~

Except the victim of the kick was ME

Oh, and when I got home, The Peach was crying. Loudly. For over an hour. Eventually we gave u[ and just brought her into bed with us. She’s no itty-bitty anymore and she likes to sprawl a bit. Not exactly comfortable.

Then this morning? This morning I got treated to a bevy of snorting giggles from my youngest and inappropriate jokes that made me snort from my oldest and went to work with a smile on my face. And then when I got there and opened my email, I found…

I got nominated for a blogging award!

It’s a “share the love” thing for bloggers less than 200 followers. Basically if you get nominated you pick your top 5 favorite blogs that have less than 200 as well and pass it on. So apparently, blackcatsandbuttons thought I was pretty neat cuz she put me in her top 5.  Soooo, to pay it forward, I have to do the following;

1 – Thank your Liebster Blog award presenter on your blog- THANK YOU, you totally rock and not just because you nominated me but because you used the word “buggered” in the title of the post. AWESOME
2 –  Link back to the blogger who presented you the award- ummmm… see above.
3 –  Copy and paste the award on your blog-

4 –  Present the Liebster Blog Award to 5 bloggers with less than 200 followers- So here’s my top 5;

  1. coffeepoweredmom – Since she is SUPER funny and has admitted her caffeine addiction as I have.
  2. filltheirbellies – Cuz she is my idea of Supermom… SAHM mom who cooks good food on a budget (with awesome recipes) and also has a kiddo with Type 1
  3. geekmomblog – Cuz she’s one of my closest friends and she’s been through a lot of the same crap I have. Plus she’s the mom of 2 AWESOME boys
  4. mommydds – One of the nicest, most put-together blogs I’ve seen and she’s a doctor and FUNNY too… Not jealous I swear.
  5. blackcatsandbuttons – Not because she nominated me, but because her writing is great and makes me laugh like a dork

5 – Let them know they have been chosen by leaving a comment on their blog- Done, done, done, done and done.

SO thank you again cuz that truly made my day since yesterday was kinda shitty.


Why did I have to go and do THAT?

More like a vulture actually…


SO apparently we’ll be doing a heck of a lot more laundry in the NewLife household.

Apparently The Peach was more than ready for solid food. I’ve never seen a baby take to eating as quickly as she did. By the third spoonful she had her mouth open like a little bird.

“Eager” doesn’t even begin to describe it

And of course… It was a mess. A sticky, gross, gooey mess. She managed to guide a spoonful directly into her left eye. I was still picking cereal out of her eyelashes the next morning.

She’s going to be one of those kids who starts solids and decides she doesn’t want to bother with the bottle anymore. Which of course is a huge pain in the ass because a bottle is a hell of a lot easier that actual food.

There’s no one else to blame. I just had to try it out. “Just to see what happens.”

“I’ll have the pancakes with extra syrup please. And don’t skimp on the butter!”

“Where the hell is my food? That waitress is about to lose her tip.”

Bad Dreams, Bad Memories

I woke up to a horrible dream this morning.

It was a dream, granted, so it was pretty weird, The Zen Master looked kinda like Borat and we were all at my old house in Florida, but anyway, the thing that made me wake up with my heart racing and tears in my eyes? The core of the dream that shook me awake?

Sperm Donor came to see Princess Punk. I don’t think he wanted to take her away, but the mere suggestion that he wanted to be in her life was absolutely terrifying. He showed up at my front door with his (pregnant) girlfriend and her “crew” who were there I guess to muscle me into letting him see The Princess. I’m not really clear on that.

The last time I talked to Sperm Donor was about 5 years ago. The last time I got any kind of update was about 2 years ago when Princess Punk’s half-sister (he had 2 more girls after The Princess that we know of) text messaged her, “Our Daddy’s in jail again.” Awesome. I looked it up online and I guess he got nabbed for cocaine possession (that’d be crack cocaine). Again.

He’s been in and out of juvie and then prison for as long as I’ve known him. He’s always been a drug user, mostly just pot when I knew him, but based on what I’ve heard from some of his family, he has since graduated on to much harder stuff. He spent a few years in prison for dealing crack and I don’t know much of what happened to him after that.

He denied Princess Punk was his until she was about 4 I think when we finally got him pinned down for the paternity test. The only reason why they actually got a sample from him is because he was in jail. Nice. He was scary. He never hit me, but he was always intimidating. I remember one time when The Princess was just a baby, we were at his mom’s house and he came in, went up to her in her little car seat and yelled in her face just to make her cry.

I don’t know if I had ever before or since wanted so badly to hurt another human being.

After he finally admitted that yes, he was in fact her biological father, he went through brief on-again, off-again periods of interest. At one point he actually suggested letting The Princess stay with him over the weekend. Um. No.

Anyway, when we moved up here, I hadn’t heard from him in several years. He called once, not long after we moved when he got out of prison. He said a few things, some good, some bad. He said he wanted to call Princess Punk and have more contact with her. He was trying to get his shit together and he wanted to be in her life. I was actually okay with that at the time as long as he could prove to me that he was 1. sober 2. employed and 3. no longer a total jackhole. He said he understood why I moved to Vermont and that he didn’t want The Princess growing up like he did either. I appreciated that. It was the first time he had ever acknowledged the fact that I wasn’t trying to be a bitch, I was just trying to do what was best for my kid. He talked to The Princess briefly, asked her if he could call her occasionally and maybe come see him if it was okay with me. She eagerly agreed since at that point she was starving for a daddy of any kind at all.

He never called again.

Princess Punk went through a period of… mourning I guess. She really wanted that father-figure in her life. My dad was there to some degree but she wanted needed more. My heart broke for her every time she said something about going to Florida to maybe visit her daddy or wanting to see her sister or just little things like her giving me a gift on Father’s Day since she didn’t have anybody else and the whole class made stuff.

And then came The Zen Master. And he opened his heart to her without reservation and without concern about who’s kid she was biologically. She became his daughter, he became her Dad. They both slipped into the roles so simply that it felt like it had been that way all along. That the Sperm Donor was just that, that The Zen Master was meant to be her Dad from before they even met.

The realization of that came in the car one day on the way to my mom’s house. Without really thinking, I said something about how she was lucky she got her physical make-up from Sperm Donor’s side of the family since he was all muscle and I’m… well… not. She said “Yeah but I got my jaw from my dad too (she has a serious underbite which will cause major issues later on).” Then a moment of silence. Then, “He’s not my dad, The Zen Master is my Dad. He’s… What should I call him anyway?” I told her she would be best just referring to him by name.

And then I cried a little bit. Because I realized The Zen Master had not only patched the holes in my heart, but he’d swept in and fixed hers too.

And Sperm Donor became just another bad dream.

Spring has Sprung!

And with it, a whole mess of weeds…

My 3-day Memorial Day weekend will be spent weeding my garden and beating back the jungle that is my yard. Last year our mower was broken… All Year. Add to that my pregnancy with “issues” and The Zen Master working 6-7 days a week and my yard needs a whole lotta work.

Thank god for ibuprofen…

Oh, and my parents just got 8 cords of wood delivered. In a big pile. Next to the downstairs door. The pile is about 8 feet high and is sprawled over about a 15 foot radius. My mom is doing the rest of the gardening there so she doesn’t have time to stack wood. My dad? He has a bad back, hip and knees. He will still stack the wood but he’ll damn near kill himself doing it. So The Zen Master, Princess Punk and I are going to preemptively get it done so he doesn’t have a freaking coronary. Plus, since my mom has basically been our childcare for FREE, I figure we owe them. Big time.

So basically… A busy weekend. And I’m going to be effing sore when I get back to work on Tuesday.

But at least I won’t be a slacker!

She’s Perfect. But wait… We already knew that :)

The Peach had her 4 month check-up yesterday.

She’s even got rolls in her armpits…

We have been a bit worried about her weight because she is just so chunky. Seriously, she has rolls on her ankles. I didn’t even know that was possible. Princess Punk was a cherubically (I know, SO not a real word) chubby baby but The Peach has her beat hands down in the “fat, squishy baby” category cause she seems to have creases and rolls so deep it’s hard to keep them clean. She had her bath yesterday, which up until now has been a weekly thing, and she had just grossness in her little fat folds. I think she was making cheese. Ick. We’ll be bathing her more frequently now.

She weighs 14lbs 14oz and is 24″ long. She is in the 60th percentile for weight, length and head circumference. Pretty much f***ing perfect. She is eating a normal amount, sleeping through the night most of the time and has become a generally happy baby (although she still has a wicked temper… wonder who she gets that from?). Doc said she is right where she is supposed to be growth-wise and developmentally and that as long as she’s consistent in her growth curve, she’s pretty much supposed to be that fat. Which is a relief because I gotta say, I do love tickling those chunky, squishy thighs.

I’m not fat, I’m FLUFFY!

Oh, and we get to try cereal now if we want to. Which I may wait on. Because I remember cereal with Princess Punk and we’re already doing a load of laundry a day of just baby stuff and I’m not sure if my back could take scraping the cereal-glue off the walls just yet.


I just got a call from the school nurse.

Princess Punk apparently has a field trip next week and it was unclear who would be going with her (she needs a designated adult, usually the nurse or my mom) for diabetes stuff.

I had no clue about the field trip.

When I conveyed this to the nurse, she said,

“Who exactly is Princess Punk living with that you wouldn’t know something like that?”

And then she said something about not having any papers that said The Zen Master or I (you know, her biological mother) had custody of her. My. Own. Daughter.

Princess Punk has an annoying habit of not giving me any of the papers she is supposed to bring home from school. I will generally get a field trip permission slip a day or two before the field trip. She has told me repeatedly when asked that she doesn’t get any papers to bring home. Which I then tell her is a bunch of Bull since my boss’s daughter is in 7th grade at the same school (PP is in 6th) and he gets papers home all the time.

“Well, I dunno, they must not be giving stuff out to the 6th graders then.”

At this point, I generally start taking deep breaths as my blood pressure starts to rise and an annoying tic starts in my right eye.

I digress.

I explained to the nurse The Princess’s utter lack of cooperation when bringing information from the school to home and told her how I’m not actually a shitty parent and I’ve been trying like crazy ALL GODDAMN YEAR to have some line of communication between myself and her teachers since I know The Princess is not going to tell me shit.


Called mom to see if she would go on the field trip with PP then left a message for the nurse to try and straighten this mess out. Apparently PP had told the nurse my mom was going with her. This was actually kinda funny (Not ha-ha funny) because my mom didn’t know about the field trip either.

The nurse is faxing me a permission slip.

The Princess may not be able to go anyway because I may throttle her this evening.

Not really.

But I’d really like to. And maybe the nurse too because she was such a bitch about it.

Damn you free pizza…

We had free pizza for lunch yesterday… Some kind of employee recognition thingy.

Pizza crust is one of my “oh hells no” foods. A list of foods including, but not strictly limited to; pizza crust, pasta, tortillas and good, restaurant style crusty bread.

I ate ONE piece. Just one.


I nearly killed The Zen Master last night and today, lets just say I’m glad the window in my office opens and it’s a nice day out.

Overshare? Sorry.

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