So I make her get up at the ‘early’ hour of 10:00 in the AM. The other girl-mama and I have already changed, fed, and entertained the boy-child for a couple of hours. Today is the day she is supposed to go to the workforce agency. Two hours and 45 minutes later…God, have I ever thanked you properly for NOT giving me children of my own? :-/
Have to take her back on Friday after she registers online. A little progress, at any rate. She seems excited, which is a good thing. Doctor for Buddha Boy tomorrow for immunizations and to check his congestion. Getting pretty good at coaxing the meds into him without his spitting out TOO much.
Took girls to assistance agency for clothes. Have the SNAP card, but these people give a box of food stuffs with each client regardless. Nice of them. Girls happy with their ‘haul’ and I was happy to sit in the car with the babies while they looked around—shopping with those two is tedious, to say the least. :-p Said we can come back Wednesday or Friday to get meat and fresh vegetables. Might do that, although it feels wrong since we DO have those SNAP benefits for now. Have to ponder on it.
Cleared another square foot of the new Iris bed. Laid two pavers along the edge. A little bit at a time, a little bit at a time. Couple of boys from the old office came to look at the garage door since Floy-data’s back is complaining him. Kids said they don’t have enough experience to replace a rafter. Floy-data to come on out with the third of the trio. He can supervise while young backs do the work.
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New day, still tired. One child or another has an appointment all week. Welp, this is what I signed up for to help the sibling. “If I’m not out of the shower in 20 minutes, let me know.” ???--20 minutes--??? This girl HAS to get a job. I don’t mind the time—it’s the water! I swear, she’s trying to green up the Sinai. :-[
Just me ‘n Buddha Boy tonight—and, of course, on a night I actually have control of the television, there is nothing on that looks interesting. LOL
Gorgeous, gorgeous flowers blooming today. I love springtime in Texas. Even the rough weather is worth the tradeoff.
Oh, he WALKED! Boy’s not even 10 months old yet. No teeth, but he is undeniably steppin’ around by hisownself. :-) Which means that gas wall heater is coming out just as soon as sibling’s tax refund arrives.
Think I’ll get a spoon and the frosting can and go sit in a corner with it…
Week and a half of nagging to FINALLY get the BF’s address, and that only because put my foot down about her going unless we had it. Well, I have the street address, at least. Still don’t have the apartment number. Sheesh.
Sigh…no one let the puppy out. Okay, clean it up. What did that baby just do? How can one small boy-child have that much fluid in him? Okay, clean it up. Pull all the bedding. Go pick up the paper towels off the floor from the dog. Spray the vinegar cleaner. Wipe up. No good to speak out. It is Spring Break and all school-age brains have been turned off for the duration. Laundry. Warm enough to hang ‘em outside to make the blankies smell goooood.
Buddha Boy has runny nose, distended tummy, and overly warm. Please, God, it is simply allergies and Gerber’s ‘best.’
Babysitting. Portapen in my room. Guess it’s about 4:00 in the morning? 6:00? Dunno, it’s dark. Third time to get up with boy child. He’s congested. Third bottle. Wet diaper. Third time. Better start feeding more solids during the day. Okay, take off wet one. Get dry ready. Take wet one outside. Back to bed. Up at 8:00 with boy. How come his clothes and the bed are wet? Huh? Oh, no. I didn’t. Yep, I did. Or, rather, I really truly didn’t. Didn’t put the clean diaper on the baby before going back to sleep…sigh…
Boy’s mama is back from her co-ed slumber party and I am free for a bit. Go outside, dig in the dirt. I’ll feel better. Dozens of Iris that have been in containers for a couple of years. Timing is right to get the new bed ready. Yep, couple hours work and it’s looking good.
Okay, I am ready to pinch little mama’s head off. Deal was you go spend the night with your new squeeze. I will watch your child. When you get back, you put that child back as your number one priority—which has NOT been the case for the last week. So what does she do as soon as she gets home? She puts baby boy to bed (even though he just woke up from a two hour nap) so she can talk on the phone to the young man she left not 45 minutes ago. Chivvy her out of that. So then she puts baby boy in his high chair and gives him baby sausages. Sits at the table with him until the stuff is pretty well gone (and not all in HIS mouth—one of the dogs is smart enough to eat really well). Great, she is working at it like she agreed. Boyfriend calls again. And what does she do now? Tells him she will call back? Chats, but sticks with the kid? Uh, no. She leaves baby IN high chair, goes outside to talk to BF on the phone while she smokes. After a few minutes, when Buddha Boy starts to cry, I go tell her her child needs attention and what does she say? Oh, he’s still in the high chair, isn’t he.
I.Am.Going.To.Throw.That.Phone.Against…deep breath…no, no, no, don’t do that, won’t serve any useful purpose. Breathe deep. And again. One more time. How do I get through that kind of dain bramage? I hate teenagers….sigh…Maybe I will tell her grandmother to have a chat. Not that it will do any good for EITHER of us to talk with her. But for that boy-child’s sake, I think we sure do have to try.
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New day. I am calm. I am resolute…I am tired. Stayed up too late reading a new book. Other little mama needs to take baby girl-child to daycare every day through Spring Break week, at least for a couple of hours, to keep her place. But we have until 9:00 to get her there. Surely better than 7:00 in the AM, at any rate. Think I have finally convinced this one that her baby is much happier if she can stretch and wriggle and rumble around in the bassinet to her heart’s content. That horseshoe pillow is great with the acid reflux, but she is almost three months old. Bad to be kept all squnched-ed up all the time. Couple more months until girl-child is more than an itty bitty lump to me. Just in time for mom to look for a summer job. Thank you, God, she is receptive to the idea. Just tie the money carrot in front of her and she will charge off wherever you want her to go. Not such a bad thing. I might even be persuaded to let her keep some of it. LOL
Did you know that hand surgeries can prepare one for making a bottle one-handed while trying to keep a wiggly baby from dropping off your hip? Who’da thunk it? I am 56 years old. What the $&#^ am I doing with TWO babies in the house?!? And two TEENAGERS???? Did I do something really bad in a previous life?
Most of us are adjusting okay to these new living arrangements. Except for Willie-dog. Poor baby. He does not at all like these new people in the house. Hides in my room under the bed most of the time since his favorite looking-out-the-window perch on the couch has been co-opted as a bed. Zuzu is her diva self, just a little more reserved and self-possessed. The new dog, Mickey, thinks she owns the place. Many are the pairs of underpants and pacifiers and baby shoes on which she has made her toothy mark. She’s a baby, too, it’s what she does. Eventually, these girls might just learn to keep things up off the floor and out of the puppy’s reach. Maybe…
The 17 year old takes her baby to daycare on the way to school. Hurts my heart every.single.time I have to say that. School and daycare should not be used in the same sentence. The baby is no trouble, yet. Still pretty much a lump. Most of the time I don’t even register she is around. That will change, but later. :-)
Ah, there goes the trash TV again…sigh…at least they ARE adhering to the once-a-weekday “No Trash On The Television” policy. Some day, I will be able to replace my bedroom TV and can drown it out. Which doesn’t mean I will stop the campaign to cut them off altogether! I hate that crap.
Sigh…there goes the 9 month old’s squallering…sigh…normally, he’s an even-tempered child. Until he gets hungry. Then, Godzilla the Alter Ego goes rampaging.
Boy-child likes someone to sing to him at night. I can do that. Find these kids songs for Buddha Boy: Unicorn Song, Right Field, Tie Me Kangaroo Down. Stay away from Puff the Magic Dragon—love to sing it, but that is one sad song for a kid. Definitely NOT NOT NOT anything from Barney! NoNoNoNo. Maybe these.
Do your ears hang low
How much is that doggie in the window
I’m a little teapot
On top of spaghetti
Walting matilda
Rubber duckie
Froggie went a courting
Take me out to the ball game
Farmer in the dell
Wheels on the bus
You are my sunshine
Peter Cottontail
Angels watching over me
Henry the Eighth
Yeah, those'll do for now.
God, I’m tired. Can’t lay down, though. The 19 year old girl is doing a remarkably good job with Buddha Boy, but she is struggling to accept that he is growing and won’t be sleeping 16-18 hours a day anymore. Needs a nag to stay on it behind her, which means I get elected. She HAS to pay more attention, she HAS to go to bed earlier to be up with him, she HAS to feed him with a spoon instead of plopping it directly on the high chair tray for him to grab and smear everywhere—and she HAS TO get off that dadgum texting RIGHT AWAY when he needs something! I should never have bought her that first phone when she was 14! LOL 9,833 texts the first month. Should have known then. (sadder, but wiser head shake here)
Gotta get those eBay listings revised. Tedious. But it’s gas and diaper money.
Ah, listen to that! (warm fuzzies) This boy will be singing before he learns to talk. With more drool than a St. Bernard.
There goes his mother mushy talking with the new—rebound—boyfriend (on MY cell since her’s is temporarily out of commission). Lord, keep your arm around my shoulders—and your hand over my mouth. I am afraid that this one is bad news, a real abuser in the offing, but she is deaf to caution. Too busy soaking in all his flattery and protestations of enduring affection as anesthetic to soothe the hurt from the LAST one. So, I won’t waste more of my time and her short attention span by trying to ‘splain. Just get her to promise to be safe and hope it ends before getting too ugly. This is why one of the house rules is no one gets the address or knows where the house is located. Already proven to be a sound decision, so there is some precedence to keep her from kicking about it too badly in this case.
You want me to WHAT? Well, okay, but just this once. Hmmm, how do these tabs work. Unfold, take off wet one, put dry one under butt, pull up tabs…well, I guess that wasn’t too bad. I can handle…um, what is that sm…Oh, Mom? Here, your son has a present for you, I gotta go...
