Wet Dreams & Dead Cats, Oh My

I've always been a vivid dreamer.  I dream in color and remember the majority of what I dream about and it's like watching a movie most of the time.  My children appeared to have inherited this trait and I'm becoming concerned.

I am concerned based on the following:  My testosterone-ly advanced four year old.  He shyly shared with me yesterday morning the dream he had about "girls!"  He whispered most of this: He dreamt about girls and about their boobs.  One of the boobs apparently had a face on it.  Then to top it all off, another girl in the dream kissed him.  He was unusually shy in relaying this information and his voice became high pitched a time or two.  Does anyone know what it means if your four year old may be on the verge of wet dreams?  At four?  He's four.  What the fuck?

Then my seven year old, the same day, told me he'd had a dream too.  A dream that we went to the movies but that when the movie was over, it was time to "kill the cats".  We have two cats.  He dreamt about killing them.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Could it be that I have potentially raised a both a budding sex addict and socio/psychopath?  Which one is it that hurts animals as a child?  To be clear he doesn't hurt animals.  He merely dreamt about hurting animals.

Maybe it's time I return to the workforce because being a stay at home mom appears to be having a negative effect on my children.  My oldest child began daycare at the tender age of two weeks because high school stops for nothing.  Not even birth.  My daughter began daycare at six months of age because after taking two semesters of university off to have her, it was time to get back to school, again.  Reese & Rhett, my special little "dreamers" have had the most time at home with me and look where it's gotten them! 

The two who began daycare at arguably the most formative of ages?  Well one is currently on an Outdoor Education trip where he was chosen as one of the navigators because his teacher has great faith in him.  He's also going to be one of the Captains of his school's football team this coming season.  The other one is on the Principal's List  and a member of the Junior SGA (Junior Student Government Assembly or something like that).  She's also on her school's soccer team and acted in every play/musical the school put on this year.

Dreamers?  One sleeps with his eyes open and has a serious obsession with Justin Bieber.  The other?  Gets a little better every day at not having his hands in his pants and talks incessantly and if the opportunity arises, he cops a feel of my boobs and then announces "I touched your boob."

I guess two out of four isn't bad...

Right?

I Didn't Mean To

I have had an incredibly productive day on the home front.  And now I am exhausted and would kill for a nap.  This level of fatigue combined with four children and a sugar crash are a dangerous combination.

My day began with registering my youngest for Pre-Kindergarten.  Actually let's back that up.  The day began with getting everyone and myself ready and then driving my daughter to school, stopping for a much needed coffee, and then carrying on to the elementary school to drop off Reese (in Grade 1) and register Rhett.

We sat in chairs thoughtfully provided to us by staff and filled out paperwork.  Rhett sat between myself and one of my very best good friends.  My coffee, another one of my very best good friends, sat on the floor between Rhett and I.  Rhett was bored and wanted no part of this process this morning and was fidgety.  At least twice I asked him to watch out for my coffee.  Yes, I should have just moved it.  I should've have moved it because after the second or third time I told him to watch out, he said, in a monotone: "Sorry, Mom".

It took a minute to register and then I looked at floor and saw the rapidly spreading puddle of coffee.

Fuck.

So the vice-principal, whom I happen to be related too (kind of distantly), proceeded to bring me some paper towel.  You know, that brown stiff kind that has the absorbency of a paper bag.  Then he mopped up the remainder of the mess.

All the while, his thin wife, wearing make-up, was sitting across from my fiasco with her two clean well behaved little girls.  Rhett was relatively clean.  I am not thin nor was I wearing make-up and Rhett was doing his best to not be well behaved.  

This afternoon was spent cleaning while trying to keep Rhett entertained.  This means he "helped" me with the dishes and he "helped" me with the vacuuming and the laundry.  Then for whatever Godforsaken reason we had to 'race' across the living room floor.  Then we baked cookies.  Then finally, he relented and agreed to watch a movie.  I let him eat three cookies and watch TV.  Bad parenting?

Nope.

You see, I'm still sober.  Had he not relented, I cannot promise that would be the case.

I did enjoy a cookie or two (five) myself.  Which explains the sugar crash.  You'd think I'd learn but given my proclivity for both sugar and alcohol, and repeated hangovers and sugar crashes, it's not happening.  This is the one area in life where I can honestly say I'm a slow learner.

Well, that and a great deal of sports-related topics.

Okay, well I just had to take a little writing break to hobble off the couch and state: "I didn't mean to have four kids either, but here we are" while putting Rhett on a time out.  His newest trick is blatantly disobeying us and then when we move towards disciplining him he pleads "I didn't mean to!".  So obviously, the best parents respond with a sarcastic comment regarding misguided family planning...

And I'm hobbling because my body reacts to financial stress by completely seizing up on the left side.  Isn't that fun?  So after sitting still here for the last twenty minutes, my gait resembles someone with a stick shoved up their you-know-what.

Never mind a nap.  Never mind a cookie.  I need something much stronger.  I need daycare!

And tomorrow, I get just that to allow me some uninterrupted work-time.  I've never looked more forward to work in my life.

So yes, daycare is the solution.  And maybe just one more cookie?

Your Baby isn't Cute and Neither is Your Dog

I know, I know, those are harsh words.  And just whose baby and dog am I talking about?  No one's in particular.  However, I am not of the belief that all babies are cute.  There are some ugly babies out there.  It's bound to happen.  And yes, because they are small, soft and smell good, they are endearing but that does not necessarily make them physically attractive.  It's a fact.  And guess what else?  And I may lose some of you over this...I'm not a 'dog person'.

What?!  But you have two dogs?  What kind of person who doesn't even like dogs have two of them?   A person who bases her love of children and dogs on their actual personalities.  I don't like all kids either.  If they are assholes or whiny or just plain dumb, I'm not interested in spending my time with them.  With the recent loss of my job some people have suggested I start a home daycare.  Um, no.  I tried that once and learned I don't like a lot of other people's children and my patience level is barely enough for my four children and husband.

And this morning?  I was lying in bed, getting to sleep in a little and all I could hear was a dog. Barking and barking and barking.  And in doing so, encouraging other dogs to bark and howl.  I don't know where these dogs were.  At least a couple of blocks away but who does that?  It's not even 8 a.m.  Put your dog in the house!

My dogs do not bark.  Toby will give the odd bark if someone walks in the back alley when he is in the back yard but it's literally just one bark.  Chuy will bark at the cats if he's attempting to get them to play with him.  It never works, in case you are wondering. There is fairly limited crotch sniffing. Toby is at the right height, so to speak, so he does get carried away from time to time. Chuy can't reach. Which is well enough by me.  That being said, this is why I have these two dogs.  They are clearly superior beings.

Dogs stink.  They jump up and they hump your leg.

Cats smell good.  They ignore you and never hump your leg.

I'm just saying.

And some kids chew with their mouths open.  Which is the ultimate sin in our house and so my children learned very young this is not acceptable.  Which means, do that and you will lose my love forever.  Some kids are dumb.  I'm not being mean to kids because these descriptors apply to a number of adults as well.  My point is I don't think kids are the cat's ass just because they are under 4 feet tall.

I don't even volunteer for school trips anymore because I know that I will only want to spend time with my child and his friend and that would be it.  The other kids would annoy me and maybe wipe boogers on me.

If you don't believe me in terms of non-existent patience level the following exchange just took place:

Little boys fighting and whining in the living room for the 15th time in the last hour since they've been up.

I storm into the living room and advise them of the following:

"Listen, that's enough! Do you two want to to live somewhere else because we can't actually afford four kids right now?!  You two are prime candidates because we have to pay for your daycare". 

And because they know the threat is empty and also don't know what "prime candidates" means?  They plead their cases and then the three year old openly mocks me.  Sigh.  They are very good looking and this is what saves them on a daily basis.

And now?  The dog next door, whose owner leaves out everyday all day when he is at work, is barking.  Soon she will start to howl and sound like a cow in heat.  I've never heard a cow in heat and don't even know if cows get horny, but if they did?  That is what they would sound like.

The End.