From the (potty) mouths of babes...

Top 5 quotes overheard during Gavin's sleepover this past weekend:

5. "Oh, Nards." (in the place of 'crap', 'dang it', etc. This was a frequent term.)

4. "You gotta get up and poop, and poop, and poop!" (To the tune of Pink's current hit 'Try')

3. "I will poop, I will poop for yoooooooooooouuuuuu!" (Keeping with the music theme, this is to the tune of  Mumford & Son's 'I Will Wait'.

2. Kyle: "Luke, say 'Luke'"
    Kyle & Luke simultaneously: "Luke"
    Kyle: "jinx"
    (this one got style points for creativity)

1. And finally, my favorite: "Yuck. Sunny D, rootbeer and chocolate ice cream doesn't taste good mixed together." (Well....duh!!! But I suppose you never really know unless you try it, eh?)

A great time was had by all. I still can't believe he's 7!

Mmmm, pizza!

Always read the card first!

Grayson, Professional Photobomber (he does his own stunts, hence the scars, snot, bumps and bruises)

Loves Pokemon

Seven Candles. Time sure does fly!

Insecuries, and a dog that eats plaster.

So, tomorrow is Judgement Day. No, I'm not dying, I'm not headed up to meet my maker....

Tomorrow is Gavin's first EVER classmate birthday sleepover. I've been running around like a crazy woman fixing holes in the walls from 'Kowalski' - the plaster eating canine, plus purchasing birthday supplies, goodie bag treats, and painting the playroom downstairs. But here's the real issue:
Tomorrow, at 2:00 pm, four mothers are going to pull into my drive with cars that are nicer than mine, from homes that are a lot bigger and nicer than mine. These women go to work, have college degrees (one is even an attorney). They don't wear their hair in a ponytail every day. They iron their clothes. Yet I will graciously and humbly invite them into my home, let them have a look around, and make them feel at ease for trusting me to safeguard their 6-7 year old child for the next 18 hours.

I try to keep my insecurities in check. Sadly, I feel I have passed along the insecurity gene to Gavin.

Case in point: he wakes up at 2:00 this morning crying and complaining of a stomach ache. I console him and offer Pepto and water, snuggles, and back to sleep. This repeats itself at 6:00, and I'm starting to get worried. Like 'should I call the parents and cancel because he really is sick?' After a little probing conversation, I realize he's nervous as hell at the thought of all these boys (really only 4) descending upon our home for the night. As excited as he is, he's still insecure and anxious about the ordeal. *sigh* I know the feeling. Sometimes I HATE that he is so much like me. It pains me to se him struggle as I do.

So tonight we finished the playroom, and I let him pack the goodie bags by himself. Tomorrow, we will be a unified front, and rock out with 5 First Graders tearing our little home to shreds. No doubt the memories made will be priceless. I just wish the buildup wasn't so exhausting.

Happy early birthday, my sweet Gavino...I love you with all my heart.

Gasping for air

Breathe. Every day I try to get through the day and breathe. And every day something comes along and attempts to choke the life out of me while I'm simply trying to breathe. I'm so sick of this house. I'm so sick of this life. I can't even begin to express the utter despair I feel almost every waking minute.

I'm not stupid, and I'm not lazy, so WHY DOES EVERYTHING HAVE TO BE SO FUCKING HARD??? I need to go back to school to get a job....but school costs MONEY and we are poor as church mice. How ironic is it that because I'm 'not working', I technically have time to go back to school full-time...but because I'm not working I can't afford to go? And explain to me how I can have more credits than necessary to complete (at the very least) an Associates Degree, and most of my Bachelor's...but because my credit hours are from 3 different schools, I have NOTHING to show for it. Except student loan debt. Yeah, I have that to show for it. How many God Damned times do I have to take English Composition (3 times) or Accounting 101 & 102 (2 times each) before I can get a stupid piece of paper that tells the world that I'm NOT an uneducated moron.

Every week, usually on Tuesdays, I get the 'your account is overdrawn' texts from Chase, and my anxiety builds to a crescendo. Anti-depressants help, but I'm still sinking. Xanax is great, but it's only a brief vacation from the gripping reality that consumes me every day. Every day I struggle to make ends meet running two separate companies that have yet to compensate for my time. I'm so tired of struggling. I'm so tired of feeling helpless.

Tired of failing, tired of the judgement. Tired of bill collectors, tried of overdrawn accounts, tired of pretending I'm ok. Tired of being overwhelmed at the long list of tasks to accomplish each day. Tired of being a failure. Tired of applying for jobs to be turned down because I don't have my degree. Tired of feeling useless. I'm just tired.

I want the old me back. The happy-go-lucky spontaneous me. The person I was before life ran me over like a mac truck and left me to pick up the pieces. Sometimes I think she still might exist. Somewhere, deep inside. On days like today, I'm not so sure. I wonder if I will ever get to be that person again.

The Diet Files: Apple Dip

Ok, here’s the deal. I grew up on an orchard, so I’m somewhat of an apple snob.

It’s not that I don’t LIKE store-bought apples, it’s just that they are kind of ‘meh’ for me. Unless the apple comes fresh from the stand, I generally don’t eat it whole. I slice it up and dip it! Yum! Peanut Butter, Nutella, and honey (or any combo of the three) are my favorite selections….but since none of them are diet-friendly, I had to get creative.

Sooooooo, I brought out the Oikos Greek Yogurt. By itself, yuck. Used for baking (including the pancakes I made this weekend)…not so bad. Enter splenda. Zero calorie sweetener – yes!!!! And cocoa. If I can’t have peanut butter, then I had better be able to have chocolate, right? So here it is:

Diet Apple Dip

¼ cup Greek Yogurt

1 packet of Splenda (or other non-calorie sweetner)

Sprinkle of cocoa powder

Verdict: not awesome, but not gross. Will I make it again? Maybe. Would I rather have Nutella? HELL YES! Whoever said ‘nothing tastes better than skinny’ has clearly never tried Nutella.