How It Is

The SIL and I are going to weigh in at a WW meeting tomorrow morning. She said she will be out front to pick Me up at 5:45am! Yes AM!!! Uuuugh

I told her "ok I will be ready. Outfit. Makeup. Shoes."

Her response "Oh don't I know it. I'll be ready. Vneck solid t shirt. No makeup."

This is just how it is.

~Alter Ego #1

Hello Kitty

I think this post requires a little back story.  I have had female problems since I was a teen.  Tilted uterus, horrible periods, cysts you name it.  When I was 21, about a year after my first child was born, I had my right ovary removed due to the fact that it had been completely engulfed by a Dermoid Tumor. They told me it may be harder to conceive after that... 5 pregnancies later, I disagree.  So in late August 2009 I went to my OB because I was having A LOT of pain.  After tests, and a diagnostic surgery he diagnosed me with Adametriosis its kinda similar to Endometriosis but more serious.  He ordered a Hysterectomy .  With that I was in surgery within a week.  He cleaned my left ovary out and made it all shinny and new and left it in there so that I would be free of taking hormone replacements for the next 30 years.  About a year later I was still in pain.  He told me to try and hold off as long as I could as to keep that little jewel in there and save all my loved ones from me becoming (as my SIL put it) a raging B!*@H (I love her)  This brings us up to this week and this post.

I went to him last week because the pain has gotten unbearable.  He ordered an ultrasound to be done.  Lucky for him he has an ultrasound tech in office to do this.  Unlucky for me, she wasn't in that day.  Had to go back on Monday.  Here we go.

On Monday I go into the office.  I am greeted by a cute girl behind the counter.  I sign in, and as soon as my butt hits the leather chair she opens the door and calls me back.  In my head I am thinking, "There is no way this girl is going to do this procedure right?" UMMM ya she was.  Now let me give you a little visual of this girl, and I say girl cause personally I don't think she could have been a minute over 18. perhaps a Dogie Howser? Maybe.  So she is ADORABLE. She doesn't weigh more than 105 so I automatically hate her.  She has long bleach blond hair pulled back in a messy pony.  You know the kind, it looks like she just rolled in off the beach but in reality she spent 45 minutes on it.  She has a tattoo on the back of her neck that I can't read cause it's in French (of course it's in French) She has rings and bracelets on, and somehow her scrubs look like a prom dress.  She is so adorable.  I hate her.  So she asks me to pull my britches down to my hips.  In my head I hear "Pull your mom jeans down past your fat roll please" UMMM sure Barbie, I can do that.  So she squirts the goo on my fat roll, she applies the Doppler and immediately asks me where my uterus went.  Really??  Look at my chart.  I kindly tell her that he removed it 3 years ago.  She looked relieved.  What did she think? That it fell out? That a Zombie took it in my sleep? So she searches around looking for the left ovary.  She then says to me "Hmmmm I can't find it.  Are you sure you still have it?" Yes sweetheart I am sure I still have it.  Then I start to panic.  Since it isn't attached to anything anymore is it possible that it could just be floating freely around my body? Like maybe one day its visiting up north near my lungs, next week it travels down to my leg??  Is that possible? I hope not. That's gross.  So she wipes the goo off my fat roll and tells me I can button up, what I hear... "pull the mom jeans up over that disgusting fat roll now please." She tells me she is sending me to the imaging center for a "more in depth scan" Translation... "I am far to young, blond, and adorable to be able to do this job so I'm sending you to someone older and uglier to do it." As she is filling out the order for me to take to the imaging center I notice her finger nails. She had a French manicure.  But not a pretty, sweet, soft one.  The tips were lime green glitter!!  The line across wasn't just a painted line, it was encrusted with diamonds!!  On every nail!!  Except the ring fingers of course, those had diamond bows on them. BOWS!!! They were to most gaudy, juvenile nails I have ever seen.  We just had a birthday party for my two little girls and they received a Hello Kitty nail set.  The Hello Kitty nails meant for my 7 & 8 year olds look DULL compared to this girl.  As she is filling out the paperwork she says this.  And I quote "So I can't find the ovary, which is probably a good thing.  It probably means that there is nothing wrong." I wanted to say to her "Really, you want me to take your word for it? You have nails that would make my 7 & 8 year olds jealous.  How on earth do you expect me to trust you?" I wish I could have gotten a picture of them, but I didn't.  I did however scower the internet to find a close second.  This is as good as I could find...

Ok end rant on the Hello Kitty Barbie that did my scan on Monday.  She was sweet, but really?  Not my first choice in a medical profession.

~Alter Ego #1

I Don't Know How You Do It

I hear those words weekly. After all, taking care of 6 children each day isn't for the faint of heart. Like anything else, we have a routine and most days run as they should. There will always be the moments filled with "She hit me"; "He's not cleaning up"; "She says my hair isn't black". We move through them the best we can.

Then there are days where I think they realize I'm outnumbered and I'm lucky to make it out alive. Today was one of those days. Mondays and Wednesdays are tougher than the rest. My son attends a speech and language program in the mornings. I have to alter our schedule to have our preschool program done and lunch prepared, consumed, and cleaned up by 11am. 

I was feeling accomplished. Lunch was on the table. Even the drinks!! Some days I'm slow on the drinks and I have 5 kids letting me know in unison that I've failed. If the 6 month old could join them, I'm certain she would. My son's school clothes were ready (including his shoes!) and the backpack was on the couch. He gets out the door on time, everyone is cleaned and down for nap. Success!

Those that know me, understand that I truly believe unless there is a fire or eminent death, we don't wake sleeping children. Ever. Naturally, my eight year old niece bangs on the door with such force I feel the door rattle just as the last child drifts off to sleep. Twice. I love her. She's just being eight, so I overlook it and go outside to help get my son out of the car. After getting him settled in my room, another knock on the door. Really?

It's also public knowledge that I have a great dislike for answering the door. Unless it is related to my clients and business, I have a strict "Just because they knock doesn't mean I have to answer" policy. I move stealth-like to check the peep hole. I'm not even sure who I fear, I'm not wanted by the FBI. Yet. 

Ah, my longtime friend that's been unavailable for 2 weeks has arrived unexpectedly. She's one of the few I'd forgive for an unannounced visit during nap. However, my son associates her with wild, crazy play time and acts accordingly. As we wrap up our visit, my son is jumping up and down on the bed catching impressive air. By then, I lack both the will or energy to either order him to stop or beat him with a brick. I walk out silent, praying at the very least, he doesn't break anything either on his body or in my room of value.

I close the front door and turn to see the cat has vomited. Sweet. At least it's small and on the hardwood. I turn to grab the anti-bacterial spray and find one daycare child crying hysterically. Why? Because the cat threw up in the same room as her. I get her settled just as a second daycare child is waking up saying "Um, Ms. Donna, I think your cat did something?" I turn to see that the cat politely vomited all over his foot while he was sleeping. Awesome. I grab the wipeys and gently remove crusty vomit from between his toes, cussing the cat silently in my head.

My son walks in "I want chocolate milk". The baby wakes and starts crying, it's time for her bottle. The doorbell rings, another part time child arriving. The other three children wake up tossing mats and blankets everywhere. I'm rolling up the area rug, now covered in vomit and wipeys to throw in the washer. "I Don't Know How You Do It" pops into my head. 

My response, in that moment? I'm not a drinker, but my reply would be "A great deal of vodka."

~Alter Ego #2

She Rocks

So almost every morning I drop my second oldest child off at my dear Donna's house at 8:00 and he walks to school 35 min later.  It is per his request. 

He tells me it is because he likes to play with his 3 year old cousin.... I personally think it is because she has better breakfast than I do.  In our house we have had Honey Nut Scooters every morning for about 4 years (OK, OK I admit that it could possibly get a little... lets say... monotonous)

OK so every morning she feeds my growing, pre-adolescent boy.  THEN yesterday he asked her if she could please knit (wait she doesn't knit, knitting is for old ladies, she crochets) He asked if she could crochet him a bow tie for his costume for the school play.  Oh and by the way, he needs it the next morning!! 

THEN he needs a report printed and our printer broke AGAIN (seriously, us and printers have a horrible re pore) SOOOO I emailed her the report and asked if she would print it.  Her response???  Let me put it in quotes "Sure. After I cook his breakfast and finish his bow tie :)" Complete with a smiley face.
Geez my SIL Rocks!!!!!

~Alter Ego #1

Who Are We?

We have been sisters-in-law for 11 years.  We have a very, ummm how do you say.... unique  relationship. We laugh together, cry together, bitch at each other, fight, annoy each other and still DEEPLY love each other.  We are more like sisters than in-laws. 
We compliment each other perfectly, we are both mothers, wives, sisters. We're crafty, creative, funny as all get out, loving, beautiful, (VERY)sarcastic, passionate, and completely FABULOUS!!
One of us enjoys the spotlight while the other prefers to be... lets say...invisible.
One of us ALWAYS finishes what we start, the other... has ummmm a closet FULL of unfinished projects, & ideas (she's lazy a slacker).
One of us thrives on tons of social interaction and the other would much rather sit at home in flannel pj's and watch a movie.
One is most comfortable in jeans and a solid v-neck T-shirt where as the other won't check the mail without full make-up and the perfect outfit even down to the shoes.
One has a preference for the finer things and the other has a preference for finer price$ (she's cheap frugal).
With our differences and our similarities we have proven to be unstoppable. Between the laughing, crying, bitching and the annoying we are and always will be sisters-in-law and best friends.
Stay tuned to see who is who.