Retarded Queen of the Car Seats

I am the Queen of car seat installation. I've installed my daughter's seat a million times in multiple cars. I've got her in the most expensive, safest seat on the market and it's always been very easy to install.

So I went and bought my son the newest of the best - even a step above what my daughter has, and I've never said more cuss words installing a seat than I said today. I'm sure if he could sit forward facing like his sister I wouldn't have a problem, but my car is not cooperating. The angle of the belts, the friction preventing the tightening of the belts and the tiny back seat are sucking the life out of me.

It has all these fancy wonderful locks on it that keep the seat belt in place. Which is wonderful if you can get the seat belt tight enough to clip it in the first place. (insert explicative here) Then the car automatic seat belt locks click in and I have to undo the belt and start over because it's tightened to much for me to work with it. (insert another explicative) Rethread through the seat, try again. Nope. (ramping up the language now) Get towel, roll up, place at base of seat. Try again. (children and adults really shouldn't be present for this audio show) Get in car, sit on seat, attempt to tighten belt from latch. (No polite person says what I just said)

Finally move the seat to the middle of the car, but have to remove other seat to make room. Install not to your highest of standards, then reinstall other seat up against first seat so that they are bracing each other. (nails on a chalkboard sound better than my mouth right now, and sailors would be scared)

Now Booger has complete access to her 2 month old toy in the seat directly abutting hers. YAY!

Tipping the Scales

And I'm not talking about my fat ass! Hubby and I balance each other out so well it's freaky. The other day everything drove him crazy, especially the kids. And I was little miss cool. Today I've found myself spanking booger. Only one little pat on the bottom (cloth diapered mind you) and for nothing major. I just wanted her to STOP!

Stop talking. Stop pushing. Stop climbing. Stop stop stop.

Some people (including hubby) would not approve of me talking about this online because they think it might give cause to someone to turn me in for child abuse. I'm going against their better judgement because I think it's more important to show that it's normal.

My daughter never stops talking. Unless she's asleep. And even then, she talks in her sleep. So in order to stay sane I start ignoring her. I hate ignoring her. I try so hard to stay engaged with my children. But after she's repeated herself 10 times and I can't seem to be creative enough to get her to talk about something else I get really really irritated and find myself being snotty hoping that she'll pick up on my subtle "can't you tell I don't care" voice.

It doesn't work. But you probably knew that and are laughing at me trying to be sarcastic with a toddler. It just makes me want to cry.

Why would I want to treat her with such disrespect - even if she doesn't get it? AAAHGGGHHHH! She's just doing what she does.

I think it's time to refocus. When she gets in the way of me being productive I get bitchy. So no more productivity today unless she's totally distracted. yay for me.

sigh...time to have a good cry and start today over (even though it's afternoon).

New Toys

Yesterday was magical. Beautiful. 50% of what I could have imagined!

Just envision a cold windy city and a lone mother rushing to fulfill her own needs for new running shoes. She cooks dinner quickly, sprints out the door to get to the shoe store before they close. When she walks in she is sad to see so many people shopping so close to closing because she is a retard when it comes to running. Then she sees the 8 foot piles of shoes that those people are surrounding. Then her eye catches a sign and it says "50% Off (unless marked otherwise)".

When it occurs to her that she doesn't see any "otherwise" markings and that there are many many signs dotting the store walls and shelves and piles and piles of shoes she starts to shake with excitement and appropriately begins to tear through boxes of size 9.5 shoes. Not even caring if they are something she might think about buying at full price.

This lone mother scored. I was restrained however and stopped at only 2 pairs of running shoes, however I'm aching to go back and find some sandals. Sigh...if only it were summer.