Man, these trolls really do know how to kick someone when they are down. It’s like they look for an opening and just start flinging poo. Last night during the debate I made some comments on Twitter. Maybe not the nicest tweets in the world, but really, have you seen the stuff that gets said on there during debates? It doesn’t really matter what I said, only what happened because of it. Honestly, that doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of life. But hey this is my blog, so here it matters. At least to me.
It’s not so much what was said, but the way it was said and the timing of which it was sent. Those of you who use Twitter, will understand this a little better, but I’ll try and explain anyway. This person has been following me for a while. I’ve never followed her, because honestly I’m not going to try and follow people, just because they live in Colorado, which is I believe how she found me in the first place. Since I don’t follow her, I wouldn’t have necessarily seen her tweet right away, so she DM’d me. A DM, for those of you who don’t know, is a Direct Message. Since I sometimes use my phone to get tweets, even though it was not turned on at the moment, I still get DMs sent as texts to my phone.
So the asshat poo flinging troll DM’d me at midnight last night. On a freaking Wednesday. And I’m pissed, because I hadn’t turned off my ringer. So it woke me and Logan up. Because you know, I was sleeping at Midnight, a concept I know. But the worst is, SHE WOKE UP THE BABY! And you know what you never do to a three week old newborny? Wake them up. You NEVER wake them up at night. You don’t DM somebody at midnight. Not anyone, it’s fucking rude. But especially not a person with a NEWBORN. Want to hate me? Fine. Want to unfollow me? Go right ahead, you know where the button is. Don’t let the door hit you on the ass on the way out. Want to send me hate mail, be my fucking guest. All of these things can be dealt with in the day time hours. But don’t wake up my sleeping baby and husband. Logan gets up at 5:30am. He goes to bed by 9pm. You woke him up, right when he was getting his best sleep. Then because the baby was awake, we were all awake for another two hours. If there was a bitch slapping device that reached through computers, my husband would have used it on you repeatedly last night.
Then there is what she said:
nanciannaj “Ya, not enuf wrds 2 tell u all the resns why, cuss like a ho, politically ignorant, let me guess…from ca.? Dun following.“
So I’m a politically ignorant ho? Nice one. My aren’t you clever?
The definition of ‘ho’, for your clarification is: Used to express surprise or joy, to attract attention to something sighted, or to urge onward; the slang definition is: A prostitute. Somehow I believe it’s the latter, that you intended. Here’s the thing though, you’ve obviously never met a real ho. Because those ladies can cuss. They make sailors sound like tiny school children. And prostitutes are still people. People with lives and family and political beliefs. And not to draw attention to your obvious mis-understanding of the English language, but I’m not a ho. See, I’m a married woman. Not that it matters, but I’ve only ever been with one man, the man I married and had three children with. Yes, I cuss. Not nearly as much as I used to. I also use it in context. Maybe I cuss more after two glasses of wine. Funny thing though, I didn’t cuss at all last night. I’ve gone back and looked, and nope, no cussing.
Politically ignorant? Well I guess in your pea sized brain, anyone with a political opinion other than your own is ignorant. That’s a sad way to live and rather boring if I do say so myself. I’m done talking about politics. I’ve voted and I understand the issues and I’m done. But I have relatives, friends and blogging friends who are conservative republicans. All of whom, I adore. Our beliefs don’t have to be the exact same for us to be friends. I am an open minded individual, which obviously you are not.
From California? Well yes, this must have been a deal breaker for you. Did you know that all Californians are the devil? Who let the secret out of the bag? We are taking over and gonna rule the world. Would you like it if I said, all people from Colorado Springs are horrible human beings? No, I doubt you would. But here’s a little fact for you, I’d NEVER say that. I’m not that kind of a person. I’m not the kind of person you are.
So go back to your bubble of a life, where all people are the same. Same, same, same; like my friends son says. Then again, he’s two years old.
Please take your poo flinging monkey ways elsewhere, because they are not welcome here.
-I’m scared. I’m scared that I’ve waited too long to go and visit my grandma. That she won’t be the woman I knew by the time I get there. I’ve heard as much from relatives. I’m scared to see her so frail and sick. I know I’ll regret it forever if I don’t go; if I don’t take her newest great-grandson to see her. But it terrifies me. I watched two of my grandparents at the end of their lives. Because of the horrible ways they died, it clouded my memories of them. My one grandpa will be gone five years October 30th. Watching him take his last breath is still the first thing I think of when I remember him. Watching my other grandma suffer on a breathing tube for three days after being in a hospital for a month, three years ago, until my dad finally took her off the machine; will be the thing I remember most about her.
I don’t want this to be the case with my grandma. She and I were very close. I was always one of her favorites. I was always the one willing to sit around and help her and listen to her stories. I loved nothing more than to watch her make dinner and listen to her tell me stories about my mom as a little kid. I don’t want my memories of her to be clouded by the way I hear she is now. The cancer is in her brain. It’s making her senile and mean. That’s not the woman I knew. Not the grandmother I adore. It scares me to think that I’m could think badly of her in any way. It scares me to think that I’m bringing Morgan to see her and she just might not care that she’s there. That the great-grandchild whom she adores, will just be an inconvenience to her. I’m scared.
-Traveling makes me super freaking anxious. I was always seen as the crazy chick who made plans at the drop of the hat. The girl who dropped everything to go someplace, any place, with no notice. I am well known for it, with my friends and family. I once showed up at school my senior year with this elaborate plan to drive to Canada and camp for a weekend. I convinced everyone to skip school that day and go with me. Logan and I, in the beginning of our marriage, used to fly someplace one weekend, because I’d decided it the night before. Once it was Chicago, once Hawaii, once it was even Paris. We’ve packed the kids and driven to places because of some wild hair one of us got. No notice, no big deal. At least that’s what they all thought. But see, I was a planner. I just did it in my head. What seemed crazy and spontaneous to them, was a well planned thing for me. I knew where we would go, where we would stay, how we’d get there and how much money we’d need to take with us. When this all came together in my head, I’d present it in a way that made it seem like I’d just come up with it. It’s just who I am.
But now, I’m not really that way. I’ve gotten over that need to be the cool crazy spontaneous girl. I’m a planner. Planning something makes me feel secure. Honestly, I need that secure feeling right now.
Flying makes me so anxious. Normally, when Logan and I go somewhere, I just take a Valium and drink and I’m all good. But I can’t do that this trip. Logan can’t come with us. He and Bailey are having a Daddy weekend here, because he’s got work he has to check up on. So I’m taking Morgan and Bailey and we’re flying to Texas. We’ll stay with my aunt and uncle and all that is good. But I have to fly on a large airplane, in the air, with my two babies and leave one behind. That scares me as much as going with the kids; the leaving Logan and Bailey behind. Not that anything bad will happen. But what if it did? What if something happened to us and they’re left behind. What if something happens to them and we’re left behind?
I’m seeing my shrink today, because I’m having a hard time dealing with this. I’m feeling the need to cancel this trip. To wait and go in a few weekends when we can all go. To wait and go for Thanksgiving weekend, when we could all drive. But I know it might be too late. I’m not being a morbid person in saying that. She was given a week, five weeks ago today. She’s got a catheter in her, her kidneys are shutting down and she has tumors everywhere. It’s only a matter of time.
But I’m on the edge right now and I don’t know that I can do it alone.
I’m just having an off day today. Am wishing I could sit at the beach all day. That is one thing that sucks about having moved to Colorado. In other news: I’m taking Morgan and Harrison this weekend to go and see my grandma one last time. We’ll fly out Friday afternoon and come home on Sunday. I’m looking forward to the trip, yet dreading it all at the same time. This might be some of the reason I’m having an off day. Who knows? I just wish I could sit and stare at the waves.
I’m going to steal an idea from Debra. She posts her high of the day on most of her posts. Today, I’m not feeling so high, but I’m thinking it’s the perfect day to start doing this.
High: Harrison is 10 pounds. My little heffer baby. He is round and rolly and has huge cheeks. he is my high today.
Some of us came up with this great idea to throw a surprise baby shower for Caitlin at iMommy. So hey, surprise iMommy. I mean, SURPRISE!!!!! HAPPY BABY SHOWER! Caitlin is due in like a month (or less) with her second baby and some of us wanted to offer our own brand of advice. Or assvice, as it is in my case. Basically she’s getting the best the innerwebs can give her, without those lame ass baby shower games, like, “how fat is the mama now” and “don’t say the word baby, or we shove a spork in your eye.” All lovely games, which we won’t be playing, in honor of Caitlin. See how much we really like you Caitlin?
Now all of you are very lucky, because if I wasn’t posting this today, I’d be talking about THE VOMITTM, which took over my life this weekend. THE VOMITTM, which meant I spent all weekend cleaning up, doing laundry and listening to little girls whine in my ear about how they were tired of THE VOMITTM. Which, yeah duh, I was the one dealing with it all, I get how tiresome it can be. Now, I know how sad you all are going to be about not hearing about this. No worries my friends, I’m sure THE VOMITTM will be discussed at a later date. Because really, who doesn’t like hearing about THE VOMITTM?
Moving on…
Four years and three months, that’s how long I’ve been a mother of two. A mother, well I’ve felt that I was one since the second the little lines turned pink, over seven years ago. But a mother of two, well that was a different thing. At first I was scared, how could I ever deal with two Morgan’s? Trust me people, you would have been scared too. But surprise, surprise, a second kid is their own person, with their own issues, likes and dislikes. I wasn’t sure I could handle two kids, but somehow I figured it out. I wasn’t sure I’d love a second kid as much as Morgan, but the second that little Bailey bear was handed to me, I knew it would work out. Your heart doesn’t have to work any harder to love a second (or third) baby, somehow it just grows instantly. I can’t explain it adequately. So Caitlin, instead of trying, I’ll give you my assvice as it pertains to two childrens.
1. Life is not fair. You will never be able to make it fair to your two children, so don’t even bother to try. Explain to them as soon as possible that life ain’t fair, but you try and that’s the best you can do. Here’s the cool thing about this though: real life isn’t fair either, so it’s a good lesson for them to learn early.
2. They will have to learn to share. This starts with sharing you. They will survive. Honestly, they will. Your first child won’t remember a time without the second. She will never remember not having to share.
3. They will fight. Learn to ignore it, unless there is hitting or bullying. I don’t intervene unless there is gonna be blood or there is name calling. (I don’t allow put downs in my house.) Whatever doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger. Whoever said this, was a freaking genius. I’ll let you in on a little secret; when I stopped getting involved in the petty BS that the girls did, they learned to deal with each other.
4. They might be friends and they might not. You can’t control it, you can only force them to be nice to each other and try and help them understand each other. When mine were little, we thought they’d never be friends, all they did was fight. When we let it go (about the time Bailey turned two) and learned to let them deal with each other, they became friends. Now they are best friends. Truly, they even sleep in the same bed most nights. If I am with just one of them and I buy them something, they always say, can I pick one out for sissy? Now I know you may end up with a teeny boy and that’s okay too. It will be just fine. My brother Justin is one of my very best friends. I can’t imagine my life without him. He says I would have been a very boring person without him and this very well may be true. My other brother and I don’t get along, but he’s a spastic idiot. You can’t win them all.
5. Just love them both for who they are. You’ll learn to parent each one as individuals, it will come in time. But if you just remember that your second baby is it’s own person and take the time to get to know him or her as themselves, not as Boopies little sibling, you will be just fine. I know you will.
Lastly; don’t believe those idiots who tell you a second child isn’t worth the trouble. I can not imagine my life without Bailey, nor Harrison. My life would be a sadder, lamer, quieter place without them. It may not be as easy as it just was with one, but truly, the second time is easier, because you already know what too do. You know how to survive the baby stage. You know how quickly it goes by. How quickly they talk, walk and get into stuff. The thought of not having one of them, makes me want to cry right now. Yes, there would have been less of THE VOMITTM. But I’d never wish for less of THE VOMITTM, if it meant not having had any of them.
Ok, so this Issa Assvice lesson is over for the day. Enjoy your baby shower Caitlin, you deserve it. Now, get to hurrying along little baby, cause we want to see pics of you.
ps. I sent you something, you should get it today or tomorrow.
pps. Other advice is here: Psych Mamma; Is There Any Mommy Out There; For A Different Kind Of Girl; The Big Piece of Cake; Eat Play Love & Insta-Mom. If I left anybody out, let me know and I’ll add you. **Addition: When She Wore Ponytails.
Hugs, Issa
Founder of THE VOMITTM
You all know where I stand politically. I don’t need to rehash it over and over again. I’ve said my piece and I’m done. At least this week. But I would like to talk about health care for a minute. Both candidates promise changes in health care. Obviously I believe in the way Obama is stating it. But either way, something needs to change in our health care system
Here’s the deal. My previous company was an extremely large corporation. My family was always covered under my coverage, with me only having to pay for their coverage, mine was paid by my employer. This was all well and good. Until we moved. My old company does not have a Denver office. This meant, I had to find a new job. I did find one, but it’s with a small firm. I can not be covered by their insurance plan. I was denied. My kids were denied. We have pre-existing conditions. Logan’s company is brand new, with him and two of his cousins. They have no employees at this time. Basically there is no way for them to get coverage either. So we had to go out on our own to get coverage.
We were turned down by twelve insurance providers. TWELVE times, we were turned down. Basically anyone of them that you’ve heard of, we can’t get insurance through them. They literally will not cover me and Bailey. They’d cover Logan and Morgan, but not all of us. Doesn’t matter what we’d be willing to pay, they will not cover us.
Our pre-existing conditions are not that far out there. Bailey and I are both asthmatics. We both have bad asthma and numerous allergies. They won’t cover Bailey because of this. They won’t cover me because of this and because of the small breakdown I had last year. Here’s the thing about my breakdown though. I did not end up in a hospital. I did not end up in any facility for any time at all. I did not try and kill myself. I was just seriously depressed and ended up in massive therapy and on some meds. But for this and the asthma, I am uncoverable. My four year old child is uncoverable.
We considered going uninsured, except that our medications would cost us as much as my dam mortgage. Plus, a cousin of Logan’s is uninsured and they treat her badly anytime she has to go to the doctor; her and her kids. Doesn’t matter that they can pay their bills and feed their kids, but because they can’t afford insurance, they are treated like lepers. They do not qualify for government help, but they can’t afford insurance either. So they go un-insured and pray that nothing major happens to them. When regular things come up, they pay cash to be seen.
So, we found a plan. A crappy insurance that I’d never heard of. We have a $20k deductible for the year. Which means, we basically pay for anything and everything at the time of service. No discounts, no hope of our insurance covering it. We pay $1250 a month for a $20k deductible plan. The only saving grace with it, is that our prescriptions are almost free. Which is good, because they’d cost us more than the plan does a month.
Basically we are paying for all of our own medical expenses, even with insurance. All because of pre-existing conditions. This is the reality of our health care in this country. People can’t afford it; people are going without it; or people are paying an arm and a leg for the crappiest coverage out there.
Something has to change. As a country, we can’t afford for it to stay like this. Personally, I think health care should be something that everyone has. It’s a basic need, like water, air and food.
When Obama says things about health care like these statements: “Require insurance companies to cover pre-existing conditions so all Americans regardless of their health status or history can get comprehensive benefits at fair and stable premiums. – Create a new Small Business Health Tax Credit to help small businesses provide affordable health insurance to their employees.” I want to jump up and down. I want this to happen. He has a plan to make it happen. I need this to happen. Because I can afford my shitty insurance. Logan and I have worked our ass off for years to get where we are. I can afford to take care of my family. To provide the medications my daughter and I need to stay alive (and sane). I can afford to pay cash if I need to, every time my other daughter has a high fever (When it gets above 104, Morgan has a seizure. Lets just say, last year, I because friends with the ER staff.) and needs to go to the ER. I can do all of this. But most people couldn’t. Most people would be on the streets if it meant needing to pay what we pay out each month. Or they’d be on medic-care or whatever.
This system sucks donkey balls. It needs to change, it has to change. It’s unacceptable the way it is. And blaming it on people who can’t afford health care, is not helping anybody. Blaming it on our taxes doesn’t do any good. The days of blame need to be over. We just need to fix it.
It bothers me when people say that having health care is a choice. That people make the choice not to work hard enough for it. That people make the choice to be on medi-care. It’s not that cut and dry; not that black and white. Health care is a gray issue. There are no easy answers. But instead of blame, we need to work it out. We need someone in power to stop ignoring it and do something about it.
Hey friends, I’m off at Alissa’s blog today. Making trouble, getting into things; you know, the usual. I’ve drank all their booze, eaten all the ice cream, been through all the cabinets, put all the DVD’s in the wrong cases and changed their TV’s language to Spanish. Hopefully Alissa comes back before I set her DVR to only tape Martha Stewart and Spanish soaps.
So, please come visit me over here.
A million years ago, when I was a little Issa, my favorite holiday was Halloween. I started planning my costume in September. I’d of started in July, except my mom had specific rules about when a holiday could be discussed. I came up with elaborate costumes that always had to be pared down in the end. Once I was a Hershey’s bar; once a bunch of grapes; never something easy. Until I was about ten years old, my mom helped me. After that she laughed at me and left it up to me to handle the costume.
My brothers and I used to set up our play room as a haunted house, filled with bowls of eyes and brains to touch. As we got older and my friends got involved, we’d have certain hours that it was open and we’d charge an entrance fee. We decorated the entire house. My mom and step-dad left it up to us, with the knowledge that it all got cleaned up, the day after Halloween.
My friends and I used to plan our route for trick or treating. We’d have one of our parents drive us into a certain nice area and then pick us up at a certain time. We’d hit the houses we knew gave the best loot first, because they’d run out fast. I wish I had one of our lists, because it was literally color coded. When we got home after hours of getting candy, we’d all sit in someones living room and go through it. Anything opened or homemade, we tossed. We were pretty street smart. Then we’d start trading. It was a massive trading system. Real sized candy bars had certain points, so if you wanted it from someone you had to offer the equivalent amount of points in other items.
As we got to old for trick or treating, we’d throw a big party. We’d invite everyone we know and have costume contests.
To say we were a bit into Halloween is stating it a bit lightly. We were obsessed.
All of this makes me feel a bit bad that my kids don’t have this freedom yet. I told Morgan she could make a haunted house next year, that I just didn’t want to deal with it this year. I know we’ll throw away a big chunk of her and Bailey’s candy, just because they are such candy sneaking fiends right now. Since it’s cold here on Halloween….last year it was freezing, I know they’ll only get through a few blocks before I want to take them home. I did let them pick out some stuff to decorate the house, we’ll do it this weekend.
But I wonder, when did I lose my love for Halloween and why in the world won’t I let my kids go as crazy as we went? I like Halloween, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not in love with it anymore. I’m not a Halloween Grinch, but I can’t see letting them do what I did this year. I’m trying to figure out why that is exactly. Maybe it’s just how young they still are. The more nutty things we did, we were older than they are. Maybe it’s all the work will fall on me. Maybe I’m just a lame ass mommy?
Hell, I bought my kids costumes at Target. I’m just not a make a costume mom.
I don’t want to be the Halloween Grinch mom. I can’t change it this year, I’m just too tired to deal with it. Harrison is too young to have hoards of kids in and out of the house. But next year, I’ll help them go crazy. I’ll show them how it’s done, how to do it right. Halloween is a day for kids to be kids. We’ve taken so many things away from kids these days. Society wants them to grow up so fast. Most schools won’t let kids have a class party or dress up any more. (Luckily my kids go to a choice school who makes it a whole day event.) It just makes no sense. Next year I’ll be giving Halloween back to my kids. I’ll let them go crazy and I’ll help their friends go crazy. I’ll have a huge party and give away prizes for the most inventive costumes.
This year, they’ll have to live with decorating the house and dressing up in their store bought costumes. This year, I’ll rest and know that they are young, we have many, many years left of them being kids. Because once I let the black cat out of the bag, I know I’ll never be able to put it back in.
And hey, they’ll make the cutest surgeon and pink unicorn around.
Do you guys like Halloween? Did any of you go as nuts as I did as a kid?
This strange thing happens with a new baby. They are a great big time suck. They don’t put their own shoes on, nor pee in the potty, heck they can’t even seem to buckle themselves into the car. It’s been literally years since I’ve had this problem. Bailey’s four years old, she practically parents herself these days. I’m all for independence, you know? Ok, I’m kidding. But really, this get a new baby ready to leave the house is tough. And honestly, I suck at it.
Time moves much slower when there is a newborn involved. Yes everything takes a long time when kids are little. My girls are no different. But this tiny boy, dang he takes a long time. It takes me about ten minutes to change his diaper. This, is mostly because of my fear getting peed on. But also, I’m just out of practice. All the little rolls and creases and boy parts that have to be cleaned. Changing him is a laughing matter. Little floppy arms that don’t just go into the shirt. This is the only time he gets mad. I’d get mad too if some crazy lady couldn’t manage to get a shirt on me without needing a crowbar. Honestly, who in the world can’t put their legs into their own pants? I mean come on now.
Every time we go to leave, he poops. Then he’s hungry. This my friends, takes an extra 40 minutes. We’re not even going to discuss giving him a bath. I needed a margarita by the time I had finished that the other night. Maybe two margaritas.
I am lucky, he’s a good sleeper and an amazing baby. He sleeps for hours at a time, no matter what is going on around him. We were out for hours yesterday and he never woke up. He’d eaten right before we left and woke up to eat, the second we got home. Really nice and convenient.
But I’m an on time type of a person. I’ve perfected it, since the girls were born. I know how many warnings they need to get their stuff together for us to leave the house on time. We wake up earlier than we should have to on school days, because I have to say to them nine times, put your shoes on and grab your lunch. Where’s your homework and yes, you must wear that sweater. I have trouble getting Morgan up every single day and trouble getting Bailey to put clothes on, every single day. Both of them are slow eaters. I know this, I’ve prepared for this; this is the norm at our house.
I don’t know how to prepare for Harrison. He is unpredictable. I don’t think I’ll ever be on time for anything ever again. This pains me. Logan said something yesterday, because we were meeting people for lunch and we left 25 minutes late. I just looked at him and glared. I mean dude, come on…you’re the one who still wants three more kids. Imagine how late we’ll be then?
Basically what I’m saying is this: If you want us to be there by 3pm, tell us 1:30pm and we’ll be right on time. kthnxbi
Scene: Me and Logan laying on our bed. Harrison in between us, sleeping like only babies and kids do, all draped out.
Logan: Dang babe, we made one awesome kid.
Me: I know, he’s a real keeper this one.
Logan: It’s probably a good thing we didn’t have him first.
Me: Why?
Logan: Because we’d be like the Duggars with twenty kids by now.
Me: You are flipping insane, you know this right?
Logan: I don’t think so. I’m pretty confident in my statement.
Me: Well then you need to have your head examined. In our vows, there was a clause.
Logan: Oh yeah, which one was that?
Me: The, Issa ain’t having more than four babies clause.
Logan: I’m pretty sure it said six* babies at least.
Me: Hmm, well that’s debatable, but it didn’t say a dam thing about 20.
Logan: We’ll see.
Me: Maybe you should change the clause for your next wife.
Logan: No, I’ll just have Emmy** amend ours.
Me: Dude, she’d lock you up in a nut house if you told her you wanted 20 kids.
Logan: Only because she hasn’t met Harrison yet.
Me: Honey, he’s only a week old. Give him time. Let’s talk about this again when he’s two, okay.
Logan: Fine, but my answer will be the same.
Me: Yes, but it’s still gonna be the wrong answer.***
*We have gone back and forth on this since we got married. He has always wanted six kids and I’ve always said four. We’ll see how it ends up eventually. Honestly if we can afford it and I can manage it, I’m not sure that I’d mind six one day. Like if we have one more in a year or two and then do it again in four or five more years? Who knows? Harrison being this awesome has screwed up my thinking temporarily too.
**Emmy is one of our best friends. She’s a criminal attorney, with no husband and no kids and she plans on it always being that way. The no kids part at least. She would commit Logan.
***I won! Of course it is my blog and I can put on here what I want. But I did win this time.
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