Blog Rerun- I don't want to complain, but...

So, we all complain. Don't deny it. I tend to complain when i'm tired, or I don't feel good. I know I do it, who doesn't?

What kind of complainer are you? Hopefully, none of these:

We have the Aggressive Asshole. They like to display a lot of emotion and flail their arms. There might even be a little spittle flying out of their mouths. You can recognize them by their big giant forehead veins and clenched fists.

Next we have the Passive Complainer. They loooooove to complain, but never directly to whomever they have a complaint with. Also known as Big Ass Whiny Crybabies.

We have the Chronic Complainer. They hate everything. We all know someone like that. Always begins sentences with, "I don't want to complain, but..."

The Know-it-all Complainer. They know everything about everything ever, and it all sucks. Can be added to any type of complainer. For example, the Passive Know-it-all Complainer, whispering to someone behind thier hand. "She is wrong, i'm right, but no one ever listens to me so I'm not even going to say anything..."

The Complaining Activist. You best not cross them or something they stand for, or you are in a whole heap of trouble before you even realize you said or did something they find offensive.

The creepiest of all, the Cheery Complainer. They are always happy, but not, at the same time. It confuses your Complain-O-Meter. "I love eating here, they have the best food. Even if it did make me sick that one time." "Oh, thank you, I love my new haircut, too. I did have to wait for a half an hour and she overcharged me ten dollars...but she did do a great job, and was just the loveliest girl you'd ever want to know, even if she only had one eye and bad breath..."

"Any fool can criticize, condemn and complain--and most do."

- Dale Carnegie

Dear Facebook God,

I'm in the mood for a list.  It's a list kind of night. 

6 things that make me think what the hell?

1. Women who wear high heeled sandals to the zoo.  What in the hell is going through your mind when you get dressed?  You know what would make me look super cute?  Wobbling three miles uphill on Payless corkboard sandals. Shin splints are the new black.  Sigh.

2. Hey, old people at the grocery store.  I already called you out once. I have a new complaint.  Don't look at me like someone just shit in your mouth when my kid gets fussy at the grocery store, or I will follow your ass down every aisle for the duration of your shopping trip.  I can be a bitch, too.

3. Hey, book i'm reading, what the hell is up with entire paragraphs being sentences?  The entire paragraph?  The whole thing?  Really?  Because this isn't annoying or anything, right?  I could do this all day?  And so can the author apparently?  Yeah?  Totally?  Rad, dude?  Yay for question marks?

4. There was not one, but two big ass hairy spiders in my house today.  My line of defense, after I jump up and down and squeal for a moment, is to suction them up with the vacuum hose.  So, after Emily and I did the squeal jump, she ran and got the vacuum.  I turned it on and aimed the hose.  Wouldn't you know that fat little fucker reared back on his legs and tried to start some shit with me?  So, of course by rearing up, he fell off the wall and into the bucket of stuffed animals.  Cut to Emily and I gingerly going through the toys, I with a kitchen grabber and the hose, she with the handle of a feather duster and a yardstick.  Once my husband got out of the shower he rescued us and hoovered the bastard.  A little bit later in my bedroom his pissed off mate looking for revenge got sucked into vacuum hell as well. Ugh.

5. People who have 900 friends on Facebook. You don't know 900 people, what the hell is your deal?  I have 74 friends on Facebook.  See where i'm going where this, oh insecure one?  People like me, they want to be my friend...yayyyyyy.

6. Speaking of Facebook, God doesn't have one.  Quit praying to Him online.  It creeps me out.  Instead of just praying, you walk to your computer, sit down, log into Facebook, and type a prayer into your status update?  I praise you Jesus, just in case your checking my newsfeed, because my God is is a Facebook Creeper kind of God. Amennnnn

Failure to Thrive

Look at that face.
Failure to thrive, typed on the paper in my hand. Facial Dysmorphia, written beside it. Damn you, deformed ear!  Waiting in line to hand it to the nurse behind the desk, my heart sinks. Watching my baby girl enjoy a cherry sucker the kindly registrar gave to her, I put on a brave smile for my boy. 

"Are you happy, mommy"?  (a question he asks frequently)  

"Oh yes, mommy is so happy, because mommy loves her babies".

He goes back to his sucker, and after handing over the paperwork, we wait. I have a knot in my stomach.  No one likes watching their baby getting poked with needles. 

It's a necessary evil, so the doctor can get a closer look at Ellie's chromosomes.  Check her thyroid, check her for anemia, check her for only God knows what else...

After both her little arms are bandaged, and the frazzled nurses apologize. I tell them they were wonderful, and thanked them for being as gentle as they could, we leave, with more suckers tucked into the diaper bag.

I am feeling weary as I get the kids into their seats, the stroller into the back of the's lunchtime, so we go to Friendly's.  The babies happily tuck into their mac and cheese and apple slices, while Emily and I talk about things that are important to an almost eleven year old.  Mostly Justin Beiber, of course. 

We had ice cream. That day was screaming for ice cream.

Instead of going home and putting the babies to bed, I went to find comfort.  We drove to the library, to see my mom.  The kids played with blocks, we looked at the fish and books, we picked out a few movies for movie night.

That afternoon, I recount to my family over the phone, and then my husband in person, the day's events.  I felt heavy, and my thoughts were scattered.  We went in for a checkup, not for all this.

I am full of questions, and I have no answers.  Why does my eighteen month old weight 19.6 pounds with her clothes and shoes on?  She eats like a horse, where is it all going?  Why isn't she getting taller? 

I know she's fine.  I can feel it in my bones, I can see it in her smile. 

There is that niggle in the back of my thoughts, the wondering if she isn't ok.  I try to stamp it down, ignore it.  

I napped with her this weekend.  I don't want to be away from her.  I have kept her close to me since Friday, just to breathe her in. 

"mommy 'appy"?  Ellie asked me today. She is learning from her brother.

"Mommy is so happy, because mommy has you" I tell her while we were falling asleep in my bed.  Then I spent a few minutes laughing and crying at the same time, because she grabbed my face with both hands, and gave me little Ellie kisses.

So now, we wait.  I hate waiting. 

I'm not asleep... but that doesn't mean I'm awake.

I had high hopes for today.  I was going to get up, put on real clothes, and get this house back in order.  All while being supermom, of course.

Didn't happen, not even a little bit. 

I think everything went south for me last night when I couldn't sleep.  That was the first indicator that I was going to have a suck ass day. 

Oh sleep, I do miss thee, whatever I did to make you abandon me...I am so sorry, please come back...


I, of course, married someone who can fall asleep at will.  I am beginning to suspect he's narcoleptic.  Jackass.  Whom I love dearly. 

Sleep is elusive for me, it's so frustrating.  Some nights it feels like I never really fall asleep all the way, like i'm still conscious of what's going on around me.  That feels nice in the morning. 

You know how hard it is to be supermom when your head is pounding, your eyes burn, and your body feels like someone beat it with a tire iron?

Trying to fall asleep becomes a battle with yourself. 

Ok, go to sleep. 



I am not thinking of anything except sleep.

I have cleared my mind.


I am going to punch my husband if he doesn't stop snoring.

Go to sleep.


He's sleeping like that just to piss me off. 

Gooo toooo sleeeeeeep. 


Ahh forget it!

On and on I go, where it stops?  Beats the hell out of me!

Sleep and me...we aren't friends. 

Any of my blog mama's out there have sleep issues like I do? 

I swear, if anyone tells me relaxation exercises i'm going to....ahh, i'm too tired to think of anything good. 

When you miss someone...

Grandpa Dilas
 Saturday marked eight years since my Grandpa Dilas passed away.  Pretty soon it will be 6 years since my Grandpa Mario left us, and in October it will be two years since my Grandma Virginia went to be with my Grandpa. 

I've learned over these last eight years that when someone you love so deeply dies, you are forever changed. 

Time marches as, and over the years the pain goes away, and is replaced by aching nostalgia. 

Overwhelming grief is replaced by just plain old missing someone. 

The other day, I found a card my Grandpa Dilas sent me when I was in college. On the front he wrote, "Be my Valentine."  It was like a little gift, just for me, a reminder to remember.  My grandpa was thinking of me the day he sent me that card, he took the time to write me a little message, just to say hello.  It was like he was there again, just for a moment.  

My Grandpa Mario had this booming voice, with an Italian accent I barely heard anymore.  Except when he would answer the phone at his tailor shop.  I miss that voice , saying "Colangelo Tailors" so very much.  

Grandpa Mario and Grandma Virginia
 My Grandma's death is still very fresh to me, and I still feel that tug of grief when I think of her. I miss so many things about her, am still processing her being gone. 

Birthdays pass, holidays pass, you think about your loved ones that have passed on, and you smile and remember.  The anniversary of their death, be it 8 years or 2 years, that's the day it hits you.  

That's the day you remember that moment you found out they were gone.  That stomach dropping, heart squeezing, rush of intense pain, all the air leaves your lungs. That's the day it comes back, if only for a few moments.

Over time, you just start missing those moments you can't replace.  I miss so many things about each of them. I miss their voices, their hugs, their kisses and smiles.  I miss the safety of their love. 

I am so blessed to have a family that is so close.  I am blessed to have such warm, wonderful memories of my grandparents that have passed away.  I am blessed that my children, and my brother's children, and my sisters unborn children,  have grandparent's as loving and memorable as mine.  My children will grow up with as much love as I have, and they will someday miss all those little things that make up a Grandparents love. 

Some people say you shouldn't grieve those who have left us.  I don't grieve their deaths.  I firmly believe they are with God, they are together, and they are happy.  I miss THEM,  I miss my Grandma's chicken soup.  I miss my Grandpa Dilas and his interesting walking shorts, I miss my Grandpa carrying the blue Santa sack full of presents on Christmas day.  There is so much more to losing someone than them leaving this earth.  It's them leaving your life.