Mike, Amy, Katie & Jessica: Forgive me Internet, I have sinned.... Friday Confessions

Let's just get this fire ball from hell rolling by stating that it has been forever since my last Friday confession. I'm not quite sure what happened. I still sinned, big time. I just stopped typing up my sins. I think I stopped doing my visualization of how this whole thing is supposed to go down. Scene: Argentina, it is a hot summer day. A woman enters a small Catholic church. The sun is streaming lights through the stained glass windows casting a stream of dust lights into the front pew. She is dressed in a black satin wrap around dress with a crinoline slip underneath. Black pumps. Her hair is curled at a silky bun at the nape of her neck. She has on pearls, a black pill box hat with a short black fishnet veil that shrouds her face in mystery. Her black satin purse is draped over her forearm and the lace from a white handkerchief is peeking out. She genuflects at the end of the center aisle and kneels in the pew. The sun streaming from the window swaths her image in an ethereal light as she begins her prayers. Soon, an older lady comes out of the confessional. The woman in black, stands, crosses herself again, removes her lace handkerchief and enters the dark wooden confessional. The other parishioners wonder about the lady. They wonder what she will tell the Priest this day. Will she confess unkind thoughts and disobedience to her husband or something far more sinister. Like ....wait for it....murrrrrder! Key dramatic music and end of scene. Oh I feel so much better about these confessions. I am the mysterious lady by the way. And for those of you who are new, I am neither Argentinean, Catholic, have a black dress like that, able to walk in high heels, don't own a handkerchief, can't kneel due to knee surgery and my hair is not long enough to form a bun at the nape of my neck. And I think my neck might be to chubby to even HAVE a nape. Okay, I feel like I can really let it all out now.

I have only eaten Thai and Japanese food for like two weeks. And pickles. These infusions make me so nauseous and yellow curry stew with coconut milk or beef sukiyaki are the only things that sound even remotely good to my digestive parts. It's been expensive and my family has had miso soup and teriyaki chicken like every single night.

I have started to ask my kids to fetch things for me. I hate and I mean hate when Moms do this. I imagine myself in a double wide sitting on a couch with an afghan like they had on the TV show Roseanne saying things like "junior! JUNIOR! Go on an fetch mama a Dr. Pepper baby. Go on now." And I never want to be that lady. But Katie got the stool the other day and opened the fridge and began climbing for something. I said "Katie, honey, what are you after?" She replied "Mama, I am getting you a fresh and icy cold Diet Coke in the gold can because caffeine isn't good for your head and I know you will enjoy this!" And then before I could say, "hooo doggie" a cold can of DC appeared in my hand. And I thought, this is RAD. And then I got the visual of the lady in the double wide. I am conflicted.

We told the girls they could have one chocolate chip for each area they cleaned up this morning and to surprise us. We did this because Gray's Anatomy was having a rather racy story line with some sexual dialogue and we wanted the cherubs outta the room. So we heard nothing from them for about 20 minutes then they came jumping in announcing they were done and could we "pause the TV so you can come on our tour!" I grabbed the chocolate chips and Mike and we started on the tour. In the past, they clean up their drawing/art area, bedroom, playroom etc. Today however, they brought us into our bedroom where they had made our king sized bed. "Why thank you very much girls, here is a chocolate chip." Then, we were taken over to our walk in closet. No joke you guys. They had put all of our shoes that were on the floor of the closet away and even hung up some of our clothes. Mike and I sheepishly looked at each other as I doled out the chips but our eyes spoke to each other in harmony. "This freakin rocks!" Mike's eyes said to me. "We should feel guilty for sucking so badly as parents..." my eyes replied. And then we high fived and said out loud "no way, this is too cool for school!" It was as though Santa had sent his out of work elves to our little hamlet this summer and instead of working for cookies and hot chocolate, they were happy to work for one chocolate chip per geographic area. We feel badly enough about what lazy losers we must seem that I included this in confessions but I don't feel all that guilty about it. Right now I would totally be trying to make my case with the Priest.
Even though I have been nauseous and have been taking Motrin on an empty stomach which could cause things like a stomach bleed and stuff that's bad, the Diet Coke is still flowing in full force. When will the day come when I will be free of the silver/gold can of celestial nectar? Damn you Coca Cola! You made me love you.
I have been feeling so tired, pukey, tired and weak since the whole infusion thing began that I just have accomplished next to nothing. My hair is greasy and things aren't pretty when it comes to any part of me. And I just don't care. But I should.
My children are going to have identity/seasonal crisis's (is that a word? I am looking for the plural for crisis...crisi?crisises? I have no idea) Anyway, if they look in their closet or drawers they will be given mixed signals about their age, size and what season it is. There are shirts ranging from 4T to 6. Long sleeves, short it's all there. Because I just haven't had the time to clean everything out and organize it all with current selections. I just keep shoving the bigger clothes into the drawers and hope they figure it out. Same with our shoe box. They are in size 11 and 12 shoes and I think there are a pair of red clogs in there that are size 7. I really suck at this part of parenting.
When I clean out the girl's ears I stick the Q-tip beyond the part of the ear that they say is safe. Because there are ear boogers in there. Yellow waxy gross ear boogers. Especially in Katie's left ear. Gross. And I just can't leave them in there. Even if you can't see them. I know they are there and I have to get them out. It's not safe and not necessary. If I damage her ear drum you will have the evidence to convict me right here.
I have been so lazy that I have texted Mike from the bedroom to come in from the family room to talk to me. If you look at the last three texts from me on his phone they are these: "I feel like you aren't even trying to listen to meeeeeee" "Can't you just come in here for a liiiiittttleeeeee?" "Come innnnnnnn" These were sent within ten minutes of each other last night.
I was glad that Aaron kid got kicked off American Idol. He allowed Big Mike to curl him like a bar with weights on it. I think if you want to be the American Idol and you want people to vote for you that you shouldn't allow the competition to curl you. It doesn't say "winner" if you know what I mean. As long as Crystal or Lee wins I'm cool.
My relationship with Jake from the Bachelor got to an unhealthy level. I fell in love with him (for realz) on the Bachelorette. I was so excited he was going to be the next Bachelor and was positive he was going to be different than all the other Bachelors and was going to have morals and a backbone and really wanted to find love. But no. He chose that hussy Vienna and broke my heart. Then, he went on Dancing With The Stars and every week I was like "what did I EVER see in you?" He just seemed so fake and gross and such a nerdy sell out. So when he got kicked off I actually got up and did a touchdown dance in my living room including cheers and whooping. Totally unhealthy. I was supposed to break up with my TV this summer but I wasn't strong enough. Especially not with the whole Owen, Christina, Teddy thing heating up. And Dell dying? I watch too much TV. I have no plans to stop.
I accidentally made my Grammie Bea cry on Mother's Day. She's 90 and lives in Assisted Living. She is the awesomest and I guess I scolded her when I was just trying to mediate a misunderstanding. If you ever want a self esteem boost to feel awesome about yourself...get some iron infusions so you are puking and achy, have it be Mother's Day and scold your Grammie who has Alzheimer's so she cries then try and explain and make it okay and make her cry harder. It is a recipe to feel awesome. It's better than a spa.
I haven't written thank you notes yet for Katie and Jessica's birthday presents. I swear I will do it. I swear. But in case I don't and you got them something, thank you. They love it.
Don't even get me started on how my house looks. If cleanliness is next to Godliness I am a stinky demon.
Actually, I've been reading the Old Testament lately and there's A LOT of infertility in Genesis as well as all through the entire thing and every time a new person who is really righteous is infertile I am like all "ooooo, I rock just like Rachael!!" Instead of learning I am high fiving Hannah and Sara and Elizabeth through the pages. I don't think God had celebratory high fives of my righteousness in mind when He gave these wonderful women these challenges nor do I have anything in common with them except my lady parts don't work. Just because Mike owns a football and can throw it with his arm does not make him just like the Manning brothers. It would be like if Mike threw me a pass and I missed it and he thought he was just like Steve Young because sometimes he threw passes and people missed it. It's so not the same. I need to stop high fiving the women in the scriptures because they are obedient and walking through the desert and stuff and I am having my kids pick up my shoes for payment in chocolate chips. We are not the same!