The House is a Mess.

Why is my blog losing followers?
I'm going to disable the following function, that way my feelings don't have to get hurt all the time by complete strangers.  I hope you're all happy.

So the dogs are driving me fucking nuts.  Well, actually the dogs are really just the beginning.  My parents have been gone for over 2 weeks now.  And the dogs go absolutely apeshit when my mom isn't home.  They don't know what to do with themselves.  They're like a couple of weirdos at a televangelist church.  You probably didn't understand that one, but in my mind it made perfect sense.  They are a couple of televangelists and they can't find Ted Haggard.  They're completely flipping out.  Babycakes, right now, is panting insanely, staring at me and whimpering for no reason I can figure.
They make themselves so sick with worry and stress that they shit and puke on the floor in the middle of the night.  And I have to clean it.
And then there's the brood of boys in the house who are all seemingly incapable of picking up after themselves.  I was resisting at first.  Let them live in their own filth, I said to myself.  But sure enough, things got so bad that I had no choice but to scrape the moldy dishes, wipe every surface with ammonia and wash barf out of carpets (baby and dog).  Plus, Carter began taking the wheels off of Ryan's tiny skateboard toys and crawling around with them hidden in his cheek.  So something had to be done.
The absolute lack of respect and gratitude from everybody in this family is staggering.  I am taking care of everything and at the end of the day, I usually have to deal with Mike trying to get in my pants.  Not cool.  Not cool at all.  He doesn't get it.  Anybody else would have stolen a credit card and gone to a hotel to save their sanity.
Being in this position has made me decide to get an IUD.  I think that's the one that they implant in your arm and you can't get knocked up for 5 years.  I want that one, whatever its name is.  If I had another boy and had to deal with another man's bullshit and disgusting habits, I would probably end up on a slab of some description.
Oh well.  That's what's going on the last little while.  I am also planning a small party for Mowgli's first birthday.  I can't believe how much fun some mothers have doing this sort of thing.  I think I'd rather just rent a big bouncy castle and call it a day.  Turns out, they're not cheap.

What came first, the drinking or the blogging?  I hardly recall.

doggies!!!

I did write up a post yesterday.  I did.
But I deleted it because it was a bit too... personal.
But basically I was feeling bitter about being home, alone, with a baby, all day, every day, without an end in sight.
I was also complaining about not getting any help and how crappy it is when someone comes home with lunch but didn't ask if I wanted anything.  That tends to suck.
We are supposed to be going to the trailer.  But Mike is off doing something.  I swear to God, if he could go a week without doing something for somebody I think I'd die of shock.
What am I talking about?  I don't even believe in God...
But I do believe in Spanx...

I got a Brazilian today.  First one since before Carter was born.  It's such a horrible, painful, embarrassing experience.  But somehow, it's just so worth it.  Who wants to deal with pubic hair?  Seriously?  I hate the stuff.  I was watching a documentary about the Vagina Monologues a couple of weeks ago and I was totally into it until the broad starting off on this "You can't love the vagina unless you love its hair!" And I was like fuck off.   Women who opt to go au naturel, I believe, are just lazy.  Or they hate having sex.  Or they like having a stinky skitter.  Because honestly, I heard this somewhere, pubic hair only makes our skitters smelly, because waaaay back int he day the stinky skitter attracted horny cavemen and that's how we got babies.  And that's also how we got our saber tooth tiger roasts on the table every Sunday.  It was hairy manipulation.
But it's 2010.  It's time to get that area taken care of regularly.  It feels so clean and much less scary without wiry disgusting hair everywhere.  I am quite firm on this subject.  So as uncomfortable as they whole experience is (a pap smear times 20) it is worth it.  So very worth it.  Anyway, I digress.  I can't believe how long I can go on about pubes.

So.  I have been thinking about the family dog that I plan on getting us as soon as Carter gets through crawling and putting everything in his mouth.  Here are my picks:

Chihuahua (sweater must be included), Basset hound or Bloodhound (who would have to be named Ladybird, just on principle).  

I think we'll end up getting a Basset because there's a Basset rescue in the area.  And they are adorable couch potatoes, so he would fit right in.

We will call him Virgil

mum jams: Panic Attack - The Paddingtons