Sanitarium anyone?


Fuck you Santa, I know where you live.

Fuck you Santa, I know where you live.

My children have lost their effing minds.

 The Peach has been sick. Like croup and a severe ear infection and antibiotics and sleeping in the carseat because every time she lays down she chokes on her own phlegm sick. 103 temperature Christmas Morning.  


 But she’s getting better.

Look Mommy, I'm NAKED... TuhDA!

Look Mommy, I’m NAKED… TuhDA!

She’s all happy and bright and cheerful and playing with brief intermissions of gross coughing and sneezes accompanied by spewing snot. Like seriously epic, how-in-the-hell-does-a-person-that-small-produce-so-much… Ugh, I get queasy just thinking about it. Anyway… So although she is feeling better, she has also apparently decided she is hitting the terrible 2’s early. My soon-to-be 1 year old reached for my purse on the couch. I put it out of her reach and said, “No, no, that’s Mommy’s purse.”

And I got this-


Yeah. Cute.

And then, she dramatically plopped her fat little ass on the floor, collapsed forward and banged her forehead on the floor. On Purpose.


And the other one?

Princess Punk threw a major shit-fit about wanting to quit basketball. “It’s too hard.” I told her that it was fine for her to opt out next year, but this year she had made a commitment and she had to follow through til the end of the season. Which I though was reasonable.

Apparently she thought otherwise.

She continued to bitch and finished her whine by telling me she was NOT going to practice. At that point I informed her that if she did not honor her commitment and fisnish the season (which is almost over anyway) she would be grounded until said season was complete.

She completely lost her shit.

She screamed at me and yelled at me and sent me nasty, angry text messages.

And I remained calm. I’m quite proud of myself. The Zen Master backed me up but somehow I was still the bitch. Whatever. It’s getting to the point where it’s almost funny. She becomes irrational to the point af actually contradicting herself mid-sentence. I actually offered to buy her a Redbull this morning since we had to get up so early and one of the things she was bitching about was how tired she was.

“I don’t care. Get me whatever you want. You won’t let me have one anyway.”

Um… OoohKaaay. Whatever you say kiddo. I think.

This extreme blow up was the culmination of several days of her acting as though we were her roommates and not her actual parents. She basically spent the weekend on her new Nook (thanks Mom, really). She did her chores sorta, only when threatened with TMT (text-message termination) and stomped about the whole time. She periodically went into the fridge and grabbed whatever she wanted to eat or drink, without blood sugar test or insulin and definitely without permission. It’s not like The Zen Master and I didn’t do anything about this behavior. It just seemed like every time she got reprimanded for something she would just brazenly do it again as if we weren’t even there.

Oh wait… What day of the month is it?pms-01

Still doesn’t explain The Peach.


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