Who am I Cybil?

Do you remember that old movie about the woman with multiple personalities? I never saw the whole thing but she was pretty crazy, bonkers, coo-coo for cocoa puffs if ya know what I mean. I think I may be a little wacky too.

Yesterday was a rough day. It was one of those days where I wanted to QUIT. Throw my hands up in the air and quit being a mom, let a lone a stay at home mom. We had to take superman to the pediatric optomologist. We can't go to just any old eye doctor nooooo. They have to specialize in preemie eyes. There is only ONE in the Tampa Bay area. TB has a population of over TWO million people so to get in to see her is tough. Her office is 45 minutes away. This was our ordeal:

Wake sleeping toddler up from nap. Waking sleeping toddler is like waking a sleeping bear.
Drive 45 minutes. Play "On top of Spaghetti" four times. (His favorite song)
Wait in office for 45 minutes. Feed crackers to restless child, read books and play with car.
Pick up books, crackers and car from the floor multiple times.
Apologize to other patrons for screaming child.
Finally get into room and nurse puts eye drops to dilate panic stricken child's eyes.
Wait another 20 minutes. In the mean time...
Walk fussy child around shady areas of parking lot trying to avoid sunlight. We live in FL hello!
Pick tantrum throwing child up from parking lot put into stroller.
Feed banana. Pick banana up from pavement.
Push stroller around in circle inside office waiting room 38 times.
Listen to my hunger pains.
Finally get in to see Dr. ...
Remove child's hands from expensive equipment repeatedly. Over. And Over.
Dr. looks into child's eyes, he is fine. Must return in six months.
Ignore my hunger pains.
Sit in rush hour traffic for one hour.
Play "On top of Spaghetti" 13 times on ride home and sing along.
Praise Jesus when we pull into driveway.

After this nightmare superman's molars start to peak through his pink gums turning him into grumpy stinkerpants for the rest of the evening. We listened to whining and crying the majority of our night. Tylenol does not work! Damn that Tylenol! One of the worst feelings is not being able to help an upset child. I reached my breaking point. This particular day was the straw that broke the camel's back. I deal with his frustration and pour myself a heaping cup of patience on a daily basis. That's what parents do.

At one point, I look to my husband and say, "I just can't do this anymore. No, FOR REAL! Being a mom, the whole stay at home mommy thing. It is just not for me. I quit." And I was serious. Where is the nearest day care center? When does school start? If the nearest exit is located behind me I'm turning around. Take me out coach I don't like this game. It's days like this that are good for population control.

Today is another story. Superman was happy and in turn so was I. His smile lit up the room multiple times. He was so cute in the bathtub tonight splashing around that I actually thought of having another child. For a mere second I thought, "Another bambino sure would be fun." It's days like this that keep the human species going.

See, I'm nutty. Crazy. Insane. I tol ya so. I don't know either of these women. How can I go from one extreme to another so quickly? Medication, do they make medication for this? I'd like some please.

What am I doing?

I have a confession to make. As a mom, I have no idea what I'm doing. I always thought that parents knew stuff. I thought that I'd get to a certain point in my life and exclaim "I know about a lot of stuff!" and then be ready to have kids. But at 33 that time never came and I figured I'd better have a baby while I was still dumb and naive or I'd miss my opportunity.

The truth is I'm just winging this whole parent thing. As soon as I get the hang of a certain stage in my son's life he grows up a bit and then there is a new stage I know nothing about. I read some books here and there and they gave me little tips on how to make things easier. But there are plenty of times I look at my husband and shrug my shoulders and go I dunno. This happens a lot!

When my son was born early the nurses referred to me as "mom". I think they just didn't want to remember all the parents names in the neonatal intensive care unit. I was like who? Me? Mom? Because he was early I wasn't ready to be a mom but I stepped up to the challenge. And I do so every day cause that's what moms do.

When we took my son on his first vacation last year across the state to Amelia Island we were a mess. We looked something like a National Lampoon's vacation and the two Stooges. We had no idea how my son would handle being off his schedule (kids need a schedule as I was told), sleeping in a hotel or the three hour car ride. He went easy on his clueless parents. God bless him.

When he got croup last year and had a cough that sounded like a dog barking.... I had no idea what to do. But I knew giving him beef snausages was not the answer (it works for the dog). Choking on a cracker...is it pat on the back or sweep his mouth?
Attacted by mosquito's...Benedryl? Ice pack? For that one we brought him to the urgent care center when his eye swelled shut.
Waking in the middle of the night...cry it out? Who can listen to their baby cry for hours on end?
I still am dumbfounded on what to do when he bites my husband and I. Time out didn't work. Or maybe we didn't do it right? I know I don't want to spank but why not?

So once again I'm faced with an issue. Superman has had the poops and I mean the worst poops ever for five days. No fever though. We have tried the bland diet to no avail. This afternoon I'm taking him to the doctor. And I'm sure he will look at my son, look at me and tell me I'm crazy and worrying about nothing. And I will look at him and say "I'm a first time mom!" But I will bring him in anyway. Cause I have no idea what I'm doing! Please world, go gentle on me.

Crap. What would you do?

I know this has happened to you. Don't pretend like it hasn't. You are out and about, going about your business and suddenly it hits you...time to do your business! I expect this kind of thing if I go to Starbucks and smell their coffee. What is it about the smell of coffee? I usually don't talk about this kind of stuff but I must share my experience that almost turned me into somebody that I didn't recognize.

I was at Publix (insert Pathmark for you people living up North) grocery (insert food for those of you living down South) shopping and I noticed half way through the store a little strange feeling down below. I thought eh, I can wait till I get home. I hate to use the bathroom for #2 in a public place. I quickly finished my shopping and headed toward the checkout line. One person ahead of me. I start to read the cover of the magazines to get my mind off of my problem and I wait...and wait. Hmm I really gotta go! I start to load (forgive me for using this word at a time like this) my groceries onto the belt while the person ahead of me finishes up. Wait. What is she doing? Writing a check! Noooo! Oh for Pete's sake! Are you kidding me? Who writes checks anymore? Where is your debit card woman? Oh and don't tell me the old lady is working the cash register today. The old lady who loves to chit chat about nothing. They are taking their sweet old time laughing it up. Alright people, this isn't funny, I gotta go! NOW! Move along sweet cakes. And I mean pronto! Suddenly, I'm wishing horrible things on this woman in front of me. I'm hoping she can feel my hatred through the back of her head.

I finish unloading my groceries onto the belt. Suddenly I hate being tall. Why? Cause tall people must bend over into the cart to pick up the junk they want to buy. Repeatedly. And bending over is not the position you want to be in when nature calls.

Finally Thelma and Louise are finished with their gab-a-thon. I'm up. OK lady just move quickly and nobody gets hurt. Scan, scan, scan sister! Today is not my lucky day. She has an ace bandage on her wrist. She starts in with "Hi...beeep (scanning sound)...how are you...beeep? Did you...beep...find everything you were...beeep...looking for?" I'm like "Yeah, whatever hi yes." Panic sets in. I'm now crossing my legs. Oh good there is a bagger here “paper please.” "So...beep...how about the Rays (baseball)...beeep." "Isn't it wonderful how well...beep...they are doing? Don't you just love ...beep...baseball?" Me:"Um no I don't follow baseball." It must be bagger boys first day on the job because he is packing my bags so slowly you'd think he was carefully placing newborn babies in there! Me: "Ya know, you can just throw the stuff in there I'm kinda in a rush." Beep, beep, beep, beep. Jeez how much crap am I buying...will the beeping ever end? Cashier: "Baseball used to be the American past time...beeep..beeep. I remember when....."(My thoughts start to trail off as she rambles on.) Dear God, please don't let me shit my pants. Not here, not now, not in public. Will I actually shit myself? A grown woman shitting herself. I'm breaking out in a sweat at this point I'm sure of it. I start to recite every prayer in my head that I know. I pray to God, Jesus and every saint I know. Crap, why don't I go to church? Who are the disciples? Who was at the table with Jesus?

"Ma'am do you want your meat wrapped in a plastic bag?"
"Oh isn't this a pretty nail polish color. Are you going to do your nails later?"
"I didn't know they made soy nuggets."

Beep. Beep. Beep.
I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs "Hurry the F up! Please for the love of God and all that's holy!!!"
Beep. Beep. Beep.
And then I hear the most amazing words in the English language:
"Your total is..."
Oh thank God!!!!
Bagger boy wants to know if I want help out to my car with my cart.
"I'm not going to my car!" I exclaim as I haul ass over to the restrooms.

And then it's over, as quickly as it was brought on. If only I had gone straight to the public restroom none of this would have ever happened.

Why does Al Roker do the food segments?

Do you ever watch the Today show in the mornings? I put it on and glance up at it every now and then while superman is destroying the house and I am putting out fires. Every time there is a segment on cooking Al Roker is the one interviewing the chef. But not just interviewing, he helps cook and certainly tastes all the yummy dishes. I have to wonder, why on earth do they have the fat guy who had stomach surgery to help him lose weight do the food segments??? Matt does politics, Ann does the news, the Viera lady does the feel good stories and Natalie does family stuff. C'mon couldn't Al switch with Viera? Does he hafta do food?

Poor Al has had a long battle with food. I'm sure it was a tough decision to get the surgery done. He lost a whole bunch of weight afterwards. But then they took him from just doing the weather to talking about food! Whose brilliant idea was that? That would be like having Courtney Love do a segment on heroine. I wonder what the conversation went like when his boss and producer called him into their office one day to tell him his new job role. "Al, we are going to have you work with food. Our viewers identify you with food. Now, I know it's your poison so you are just going to have to be tough and suck it up. Well not really suck up all the food but you get my idea. Ok?" What was Al to do?

Have you ever seen the section on your job description at the bottom in fine print that says "and other things as needed." It leaves a whole lot open for responsibility. Well Al's "other things as needed" include eating and obsessing over recipes. So if he gains all the weight that he lost back I say it's not his fault. I blame his boss. I think he may have a lawsuit on his chubby hands.

Who would hire these two?

When I was planning superman's first birthday party I wanted it to be a really special celebration. I wondered how I was going to entertain the guests. Should we rent a bounce house? Should we get a juggler? What about a balloon sculptor? What kind of theme should we have? The best parties always have themes. We went with a farm theme party at our community park. I bought farm themed plates, napkins, banners and balloons. The animals in the theme were cute and colorful. For entertainment I hired a petting farm to come out. Yes, I hired a petting farm for my son's first birthday.

Anyway, when I was thinking of entertainment for our party never did I imagine clowns like this! What freaks. I found these "clowns" when I was driving into NYC this past weekend and they were driving next to me. "Hip Hop Magicians" is what they are called. Specifically "Uncle Majic" and "Shock-Kim" the clown. What kind of crazy names are those? I don't want any kind of entertainer for my child who has the word Shock in the name! They are more like the Insane Clown Posse. And they claim to be Seen on TV...what TV show is this? Or do they have an infomercial?

http://www.hiphopmagicians.com/

With a name like Hip Hop magicians it makes me think that they can do a little hocus pocus and make my car or jewelry disappear. I bet they show up to your house like an hour late smelling like they smokey smoked up before they got there. Hmm maybe that would make them pretty darn funny if they were high. Call me judgmental, but would you hire these two? I don't know if it was Uncle Magic or Shock Kim driving the car but they were pissed that I took this picture. Pissed off hip hop clowns...not something you see every day!