Seriously, thank you for running in and out of the house and slamming the front door so many times that the baby has now woken and is upstairs screaming after only an hour’s nap.  If you don’t like the way the middle child is playing, you’re big kids… figure out a way to deal with it because if one more child comes in here to tattle they’re getting soap in their mouth (whether they’re my child or not).

I’m going to be brutally honest here… I do not like OPK’s; that’s “other people’s kids” if you didn’t know.  I thought for the longest time that it was just the younger ones, but the new neighbors have a 9 and 10 year old and I don’t like them either.  They’re here ALL the time.  I get no down time because they come in and make themselves right at home… messing up rooms and leaving them.  Dude, my house is on the market, clean the mommy word up after yourselves… better yet… take my kids to YOUR house to play! Whatever you do make sure it starts w/gtfo.  I mean really, in moderation it wouldn’t be so bad, but I need some time without all the neighborhood kids running in and out of my house.

Seriously… don’t try to interpret what I say. Don’t filter out bits and pieces then duct tape it back together to into something totally off because you’ve decided I don’t actually mean what I say.  NEWS FLASH: I DO actually mean exactly what I say.

I’m somewhat disturbed by how much I enjoyed my Iced Tazo Pomegranate Tea Lemonade (half sweet) from Starbucks today.  It is decidedly better than any of their coffee concoctions.

Yeah… 3 posts in 1 day, I don’t know that I’ve ever done that before… this one is totally of separate topic though.  I need a tattoo artist.  I want a tattoo of a dogwood branch with 3 butterflies hovering around it.

I have a standing appointment with a friend for coffee once a month at a neighborhood Starbucks. Today, I was going to be late, and I knew it about 3 hours before we were supposed to meet, however I don’t have this friend’s phone number in my new phone. I message her 3 times on Facebook and get no response… Husband KNOWS I’m late and I’m supposed to be meeting her… yet when she calls (and I’m on my way) he doesn’t answer the freakin’ phone… so she leaves. Really??? Sure is on a roll today… he knows it too… he hasn’t said a single word to me since I walked in the door: he’s hiding in the basement.

It’s been nearly 2-years.  But you know what the primary difference is? Other than the fact that now my “Itty Bitty” is turning 7 in a couple of weeks and I have a whopping total of 3 kids now… I AM happy.  No, not everything is rainbows and butterflies – well, actually I have 3 girls, so everything is practically IS rainbows and butterflies, but that’s not what I meant.  No, my life isn’t perfect, but I’m still happy.

I’ve decided to check back in here because I have a frustration that I need to get off my chest. Today my 2 older children participated in a swimming invitational (they’re beginner swimmers).  It is the ONE event all summer that is dedicated to beginner swimmers and we were all going to go as a family to support them. Last night I find out from Husband that he can’t go: “It’s the ONE day all week I couldn’t go… sorry babe.”  I didn’t question him, fine, I understand… I know he sometimes can’t get away from work. I start calling around looking for a sitter for the baby because I can’t handle her there by myself while running back and forth taking pictures of the other two and no one is available on such short notice. *grumble*

Fast forward about 3-1/2 hours… Husband’s talking about this party they’re having at work today. Some dude’s going away party and he’s been asked to roast him (poor guy, Husband is ruthless). ANYWAY, it suddenly dawns on me: “You mean you can’t go to the girls’ swim meet tomorrow because of some guy’s going away party???”  He says, “Well, yeah… but they’ll have more, won’t they?” NO! No they will not have more! This is the one little meet all freakin’ summer they get to actually really participate in.  Not only that, but the swim meet is in the AM and your stupid party doesn’t start until 1:00. Well his response to that is, “I told the new guy next door that we could carpool together in the morning, sorry.” WTF? He’s a big boy, he can manage to make it in by himself one more time while you go show your support for your children! He didn’t want to back out on him though… dumb man-crush.

Dude, bad parental decision making going on right here.

I’m really really really not happy.

My job makes me absolutely miserable.  I can’t even really describe it because it’s such a weird place to work.  As an example, someone sent me an email one day at around 11:15.  At the time I was in the middle of a crisis involving another employee and their pay.  Once I resolved crisis I went to lunch (for probably only the 9th time in the 2-1/2 years I’ve been at this job) to celebrate a friend/co-worker’s birthday.  When I returned the initiator of the email that did not get a response prior to lunch had asked my boss what my problem was and was my job too much for me.  He’s the president of the company and a jerk and I really really really really don’t like him with every ounce of my soul.

Similar situation, yesterday I spent the entire day trying to resolve some compensation issues with an entire department, trying to get payroll finalized, and working on an investigation into sexual harassment charges brought by, then renegged upon by, an employee at another branch.  When an employee didn’t receive a response to an email she sent early that afternoon, by 4:30 she resent, with a high priority lable, cc’ing boss woman.  I am one person overseeing all HR and Payroll functions for a company of nearly 200 people and of course every single one of those employees feels as though no matter what I’m doing I must drop everything and respond to their immediate need.

Husband is gone on travel again (this is the 3rd of 10 weeks).  He’ll be home right before Halloween.

I hate being pregnant.  It’s hard being a full time working single mom with 2-1/2 kids… how do people do that?

I think after Itty no. 3 here comes along I’m going to stay at home.  Days filled with temper tantrums, cleaning kitchens, poopy diapers and whining with my own children sounds 100 times better than dealing with all the same things… but with 192 adults.

So, I think I figured out how to access gmail and bypass our filter (at
least for the time being). So… I’m going to give this email posting thing
a try. We’ll see how successful it turns out.

Anyhow, I’m in Tampa for work. It’s hot and humid and my office is in a
salmon colored stucco building that people around here consider to be
“big.” A few observations about the area:

* people are horrible drivers. I was coming in from the airport and the
speed limit was something like 65 and people were going 50. FIFTY in a
65!!! Even just thinking about it now gets the road rage gremlins
grumbling. BossLady describes it as DWE – Driving While Elderly. I thought
that was clever.

* there are these little buggy things getting their mojo on all over the
place. BossLady calles them “love bugs” and I can see why. They’re
attached at the… well, you know. So when you park your car about 20 of
them are already doin the nasty on it by the time you get out… and if
you’re lucky you can get into the building to where ever you’re going
without them making their way into your bra. I wasn’t so lucky.

Oh shoot. So BossLady just came in and suggested I head out to the airport
because there’s a thunderstorm moving in (low and behold there’s the
thunder). So, testing complete.

So now, not only is Xanga blocked from work, but so is gmail/hotmail/yahoo/aol and all other personal email sites.  That really does suck.

So today I get a call from BossLady and I’m whining about how I’m being forced to hire an idiot cronie of our President again just because he says I have to do it… and her response is, “Oh good!  If he’s bugging you today that means he’s not bugging me.  Yea me.”  If Itty No. 1 hadn’t been sitting here I’d have told her to kiss my ass.

That reminds me though, actually that’s a lie, Chun’s comment on my last entry reminded me… did I ever tell y’all about the time Itty dropped the F-bomb?  In context.  Yeah, sorry Chun, my little brother beat you to the punch on teaching my kids swear words.

I asked Itty No. 1 to draw a picture of our family because I wanted to personalize a storybook with her pictures, and she drew this picture with a mommy, a daddy and 3 itty’s.  I asked her who they all were and she pointed them all out; “This one is me, I’m a princess, this one is you, you’re the queen, this one is Daddy, that one is Baby Itty No. 2 and that’s my baby brother.”   She’s been on this kick lately about wanting a brother.  I asked her, “what if God decides not to give you a brother… what if you get another sister?”  She very seriously told me that we’d just have to give her back because we don’t need any more girls… then she proceeded to pray and remind God of the fact that we don’t need any more girls in our house.

Oh, by the way… husband has decided that we should wait to move to CO until the new DOD facility down the road gets closer to opening.  I’m going to kick him in the teeth.