Thursday, May 29, 2014

Really, Another Mommy Blogger? About the 3 Wiener Warriors As Well.

Alas! I have joined the clucking club of mommy blogging. I totally get why moms around the world blog and bitch, I mean complain about their kids. If it wasn't for being able to blog about our kids, there would be a lot more wine-o mommies in this world. I've tried that route, but the wine gave me heartburn and gas. It happens.

First, let me say, I'm a good mom, and I love my little wieners with all my heart. I really do! What I joke about sometimes on this blog does not reflect how much they fill my heart. I use clean language with them, I swear. So gasp and scoff at me if you must, but my boys are my life. Plus I think if I was screwing up as a mom, and needed a reality check, God would "bless" me with another wiener warrior and then laugh as I'm scrubbing even more poops and pees off the toilet and shower curtain. So far So good! :)

Let me introduce the wonderful wiener warriors in my life.

Peyton, aka Goober, is our oldest and our biiigg fricken "oops" child. High school relationships are hazardous. Side note: did you know 75% of all backrubs lead to "slappin skins?" (as my husband calls it) Momma never taught me that! So how was I to know? Instead of shouting, "YOU KNOW MY RULES CARLY ANN!" at us, she should have been yelling backrub statistics at us. THAT, I would have listened to!! ;)

Anyways, back to my oops child.

Goober was such an easy baby. He slept 14 hours a night and hardly ever cried. I lived with my parents at the time so this made it super easy to sneak into the garage and have a few drinks with friends. (Don't judge, I was 19!) Plus I had a baby monitor with me so that made it okay. (??) As a toddler, he was so easy going. So funny, so lovable. Except in restaurants. He could clear a table of freshly ordered food off in 2.1987564 seconds. That shit wasn't lovable. That shit made me regret that one backrub. Besides that, he was a great baby and toddler. My husband and I were convinced we were super awesome possums at parenting.
Now at 9 yrs old, he still sleeps like an old man, and just as lovable as one, but holy good moley that kid is dramatic! I don't know if it's an age thing, or if he just takes after his father ( ha! ), but this kid has a roller coaster ride of emotions. It has gotten to the point of me just crossing my eyes and shaking my head at him because he won't either a) stop being dramatic over his brother taking a Lego, or b) he won't except the words NO DAMNIT! ugh, and the attitude about everything...just now he yelled at me because I wouldn't shut the microwave door for him..even though he does EVERYTHING for me. (I blame the formula he drank as a baby) Dramatic? Yes. Did I laugh? Yes.
Even though Goober is oh so dramatic with attitude, I wouldn't trade him for the world. Would I trade in the drama for a new pair of sneakers? Hell no, I hate sneakers. But flip flops yes! :)

Crap this post is going to get long having 3 boys to talk about...Onward wiener readers!!

So life is great, Goober is growing like a champ, and 6 1/2 years later Gavyn, aka Monkey Butt or Monkey Monk,  is born! Monkey shot into this world six weeks early and surprisingly, at a whopping 5.2 lbs. A week before he was born, I was in early labor and they measured him at 4.4 lbs. The growth spurt could have been from the roids they pumped me full of a week earlier that made him grow so well. I really don't know. What I do know is I'm pretty sure he wasn't kicking in the womb, but pounding on my uterine wall to get him the hell out, its hot in here, and i'm tired of drinking my own pees. There was no keeping that child locked inside. The doctors were convinced as I was shootin him out, that he was going to need breathing tubes and be brought down to Children's for monitoring and specialized NICU care. Not Gavyn thankfully! (Dear God he's currently licking yogurt off the floor and rubbing his tummy saying "mmmm") I call Monkey my miracle child. I wasn't even suppose to get pregnant because of thyroid issues making me "infertile", and him being born early.  He is a pure blessing from God. The little wiener was a fighter when he was born, and still is! He just has more tantrums now and eats leftovers that the dogs don't find off the floor. He loves to irritate his bra bra (brother Peyton). I have never before seen a 2 year old head lock an 8 year old and bring him to the ground. I'm going to blame that on the roids too. Gavyn is going to do what Gavyn wants and Lord help the sucker who stands in his way.
Even though Monkey Monk is a feisty little turd whip, he CAN BE very sweet. His little arms squeezing you good-night, or the kisses he gives but then spits yours out, is seriously why I haven't made a cage for him yet. (wait what?) It's the little things that make all the tantrums, food throwing, toy whipping, pinching brother with his wolverine like claws, all worth being his mommy. :)

The End!
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Just kidding! I have a third wiener. * I really don't have 3 wieners FYI, just 3 boys*

Tucker, aka Tuckerbeans, is our last and final wiener to this wonderful story. (ya getting sick of the word wiener yet? Cuz I am! So from now on its WW for wiener warrior, obviously)
Tuckerbeans has been my most difficult baby by far. There were nights when I think my hubs would have rather slept outside with the dogs than have to be in the room with a fussy non sleeping baby, and a wife yelling, "I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!!! I CAN'T BE A MOMMY ANYMORE!! ROOOAARRR!!!!!!" or something like that. Its a little fuzzy...(wonder where Peyton gets his drama-ness from?) *wink wink*
I remember one time my hubs jumping out of bed like a bomb just exploded by his bedside cuz I yelled at him to get his sweet rested ass up and help me! The look on his face was priceless..and worth that night of no sleep. Good times!!
Tucker is a wonderfully, rollie pollie, little fella who is 36 1/2 weeks old already. (do the math) He's already busted out of his 12 month clothing and is fitting into 18 month clothes. The kid likes a full belly what can I say! You definitely know when he is hungry. He will ball his fists up and grunt like the Hulk when he wants more food! (will someone get this kid a Happy Meal already??)
Ta Ta-B (Gavyn language for Tuckerbeans) started crawling a little over a month ago, and is pulling himself up on everything. He also thinks his britches are bigger than they actually are and tries walking, but that shit ends kind of bad for him. I love this child. He is the baby of the dam fam, and yes, he is our last!
No more infants screaming in to the wee hours of the night, no more sore nipples from feeding the little scavengers, and no more screaming my hubs out of a deep slumber. (yeah.. that's probably not going to end..that is pure entertainment! It's paybacks for all the times he elbows me in my head when he sleeps!)

So there you have it! The 3 WW's of my life! People keep telling me to try for a girl. If you want a girl so bad..you have one!! This uterus has closed up shop and I threw that damn key so far into the woods ain't nobody gonna find it!

Wiener wishes to you, and you all might want to think twice before receiving a backrub,

Carly