Wednesday, June 30, 2010
What makes me feel a wee bit better is the fact that she was totally into eye wear as a fashion statement. She had a wild time trying on pair after pair of pink and purple glasses.
The doctor explained that because we had no idea she was half blind in one eye, the other eye had to do all of the work in order for her to see anything. One eye was like a fat couch potato with a hairy back and long thick toe nails. He didn't do anything but sit in a dirty recliner with crusty dishes and beer bottles surrounding him, watching soft core porn. That eye disgusts me. The other eye has sweet little biceps and triceps. Her hammies and quads are cut. Her abs have nary an ounce of fat. She is so perky and toned that she can get away with boy shorts and a hot pink sports bra. I'm pretty sure she has lush shiny dark brown hair. I love this eye. If Hairy Back doesn't get off the recliner and start pulling his weight, we might have to knock Perky Pink out with a roofie. In other words, Piglet's eye is lazy. If her glasses don't start to correct the problem, she may have to wear a patch. I will most likely buy her the heart one pictured above...*snicker*.
Piglet didn't care. She knew she looked just as good in glasses as without. She immediately came home to spread the good news to Superman. "Dad, guess what!!!!!!! I have a crazy eye!!!"
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
My dream bubble was popped with the tip of a plastic rifle which was then used to hit the walls and other children. The Nuggets were having a down day. They didn't play with friends. The TV wasn't on. They had to finish chores and were dismayed to find that the only compensation for finished chores was the personal pride they had in doing them. After dishes and vacuuming and doing everyone's hair and feeding all of the puppies, I sat down to make wedding lists and get my craft on making 'kissing balls' for my sister's wedding.
This would be when Hell let loose it's horror. Piglet feels that she is above having to clean her own messes up. Infact she feels it is beneath her to wipe her own tush.....it's just too plebeian. Having only dwelt in our home for 5 years, it seems she doesn't quite understand that I NEVER give in. I sent her to her room and let her know she wasn't coming out until she picked up her 38 pairs of pajamas and 4000 Carebears. She on the other hand is genetically incapable of not getting her own way. Piglet stood in the door way and lured the other children to her just to ridicule and smack them. She cried for four hours.
The Farm Boy did a great job doing his chores but ran out of steam when he realized that I wasn't going to 'take him somewhere to do something'. He shoved the couch across the floor and screamed that he was starving. I assume hunger was the only emotion he was willing to cop to. I felt like I could brighten his day by offering up a monetary reward. I told him that I would pay him 25 cents for every diaper he changed this summer. The real reward for him would be to learn how to be a great dad at the age of 8. He agreed that he would either change the diapers or find a way to potty train the wee Nuggie. But when presented with the challenge of a poopy diaper, the two boys chased each other with the scissors I had been using to make paper flowers out of.....finally locking themselves in the library. Concerned, I pulled myself from the 'crafting' zone I had worked up a sweat getting into. When the locked door swung open I found Baby on the floor with his diaper half pulled down like underwear. Poop covered wipes were strewn on the floor and some how his plush bumbum was still caked with poop as was his foot and hand. I had to fire my 8 year old son from his first job.
The Fire helped me make flowers until she opted to do math worksheets because she didn't want to get involved in anything that seemed weak and girly.
Baby Nugget spent the day eating popsicles and hitting everyone that didn't get out of his arm length in time. Daddy come home for a brief time and Nugget felt he should be able to climb in the back of the police car and speed off. When I had to stop him from pumping his fat toddler legs after the fleeing car, he popped me in the face. This would be the point where I let out a gutteral wail and knew that public school had its good points. My heart broke a little.
The following is a text conversation that I had when I broke down and called the police for back up.
ME: I would like to kick the @sses of your children......only because I love you am I offering up the first swing.
OFFICER BOB: It has been that good of a day?
ME: Yes.I am mostly assured that I am about to turn violent and wipe out the next generation.
BOB: I will call as soon as I am done at the hospital. (He was on a DUI)
ME: (here I said some things not worth repeating)
BOB: Being at home sounds like more fun to me than what I have done.
ME: Well if you saw any kind of blood or vomit I am jealous...only lots of crying, and I mean for hours at this point, some poop on the floor and various body parts not usually associated with poop, slamming of doors, snot and abuse of varied furniture pieces.
BOB: And what did the kids do while you had your tantrum?
ME: While I threw poop and smeared it like an ape whilst wailing like a pig with its throat only half way slit....the children sat with hands folded all in a line on the couch with their hair in perfect condition. It was too adorable to explain. One would have to see it for ones self.
BOB: Wow, just as I pictured it in my head.
ME: Well it seems you know all 5 of us better than we know ourselves.
Luckily after that I was able to laugh it off, read a dirty book, and hold the baby while he slept.