A few changes

I really screwed up. I opened my big mouth and now my sister knows about this blog. Well, sortof knows. She knows I have 2 private blogs.

She is pissed. She feels she should have access to these blogs. But I KNOW there will be MAJOR issues if she reads my other blog. It's very difficult for my family to imagine that I have parts of my life I would like to KEEP from them.

So I guess I'm going to have to create a completely vanilla blog, under a different name than Countess and share that with my family to satisfy their thirst for knowledge.

Dang it I barely have time to write in these. Where will I find time for a third?

Ok, enough of that. Last night we had dinner with some people we know from church. They are in our small group. It was nice. I didn't have to cook and my kids ate like pigs. All and all a successful night. Except for the acid indigestion that I was throwing up at 3 am. Yeah that sucks.

DH is all pissy this morning because I didn't go to bed at the same time of him. Ummm...I didn't have to get up at 3 a.m. He did. Why should I lose out on my "no kids" time? He is such a baby sometimes.

Ok, I admit it, I'm a bitch....

And yesterday, I was a really really big one.

So I come home from work (after going to the grocery store for my MIL - brownie points) and look at the clock. It's now 4:40 and we have to be at my MIL's by 5:30. I tell this to my DH.

His words were "Yeah, Yeah, I know, but I have to figure out what's wrong on my dump truck"

Me: "Why, are you using it tonight?"

Him: "Well, no, but I HAVE TO KNOW"

Me: Whatever, just hurry up"

So at 5:35 I get a call from my MIL to tell me that they are starting to eat without us. (We are celebrating my demon nephew's birthday).

So I bundle up my kids, get their coats on and open the front door. See the guy that came over to check out what was wrong on the dump truck is afraid of my Rottie. He loves my Pitt, but he's afraid of my Rottie. So I knew he would leave if she was outside.

Man I'm a cold bitch. But it worked.

That's my first instance of being a bitch.

Then we get up to my MIL and I see that my BIL and SIL parked in the carport.

WTF? Their kids are old enough to walk themselves. I have to carry 2 kids, plus diaper bag, plus groceries. Do they fucking care??? NO.....

So I walk in pissed.

Then I'm carrying the kids and stuff in, and did anyone offer to help???


NOOOOOO...my DH was still down home playing with his dump truck, and I'm carting all this stuff - plus kids - in with NO HELP.

Fuck em. Now I'm getting irritated.

So we get in and it's time to eat, we say our prayer, and get the kids seated.

Here is where my temper starts to boil. The birthday boy turned 5 yesterday (but he couldn't tell us how old he was, but that's another post). He is sitting in the FUCKING BABY CHAIR. Ok, irritation number one. I have a FUCKING BABY who is too big for a high chair, and needs to sit in the BABY CHAIR. But it's his birthday, so he gets what he wants. Then we are dishing out dishes. The birthday boy gets the only small plastic plate (USUSALLY RESERVED FOR THE BABY) and the only baby fork. My ACTUAL BABY got a glass plate and a grown up fork (which I switched to a spoon)

I, being catty, said...well this is pretty screwed up, the baby eating off of glass while the 5 year old eating off plastic. I was told, very frostily from my SIL...

Oh well, he got it first, that's the one he wanted.

Oh my gosh - so that means in order to appease him we get to take the chance of a glass plate breaking??? That's WONDERFUL.

Ugghhhh....I give up. They will never think like rational humans. They are incapable of a complete and coherent adult thought. Why I keep hoping is beyond me.

How the EFF do they do it?

I must really really be lazy, or something.

According to the "world" I am supposed to work a full time job. Feed, clothe, bathe and entertain 2 small children, cook for myself and my husband, keep my home clean, do laundry...


AND WORK OUT 60 MINUTES A DAY!! All while eating properly.

You gotta be freakin kidding me....