Disclaimer: I am in a terrible mood and seem to be unable to write this post without using language that is highly inappropriate and that I know some of you find offensive. You have been warned.
Thursday of last week was The Little Lady's first birthday. BB, JB, and BG were all trending up on the illness scale. LB and H were trending down. TLL mercifully did not get sick. My husband came home early (read: he did not stay an extra night in the hotel to rest before coming home) and I had a sitter for a few hours so that I could do some birthday shopping. We had plans to go to dinner that night that my husband wasn't happy about. I insisted that we still go because a.) I didn't feel like cooking or cleaning up b.) all the children still wanted to go c.) we always have a birthday meal out and one day my daughter will see the pictures of her big day. We did modify our plans and went to our favorite pizza place instead out for Japanese. The pizza place knows us, there is a server that insists on taking care of us, and they sit us at a table that is typically reserved for baseball teams (really) they welcome us whenever we go and the only person that stresses the experience is my husband. It makes me crazy that he can ruin just about any occasion with his frustration about the way our kids behave. It isn't that our kids are bad...they're just kids. Which is why I choose to frequent this particular busy, loud restaurant where my kids can play musical chairs and not disturb the other patrons because we are tucked back in our corner. Dining out with the kids isn't half bad, listening to my husband say things like, "can't you make him stop touching that?" Or, "make him eat that [pizza] with a fork," make me want to stick a fork in my eye. The kicker is his, "are you having fun really, because I'm not?" *Hubby, after six kids I thought you would have figured this out before now, but....it isn't fucking about you...or me even...it is about the kids.*
On Friday we went for a family Fourth of July portrait. I chose that day because my husband would be home and I thought that an extra pair of hands would be a good thing. I was so very wrong. Tensions were high after our lovely family dinner, but, I put on my best game face and dressed six children (by myself) and off we went. At the portrait studio we had a looooong wait. Never a good thing when your appointment fell shortly before nap time anyway. I gave up pulling H off the props in the waiting room when our wait hit the 45 minute mark. When they actually called us, the real fun began. I spent 15 minutes cajoling H to cooperate, putting shoes back on TLL, soothing BG when she cried, etc. Hubby spent that time standing across the room with his arms folded over his chest saying things like, "this picture was really important, enough to go through this right?" After the photographer announced that she had ONE shot we could work with I called it quits. BG was screaming at the top of her lungs, H was running away from me and playing with props, TLL was sitting quietly in her stroller, and the big kids were helping me repack the diaper bag. I implored my husband to help, so he picked up TLL with her bottle and disappeared into the mall. Jon & Kate fans, remember that scene in Toys R Us when Kate started screaming? Yeah, well, I would have made even her flinch. I lost it. Totally. Fishwife, thy name is Viv.
Saturday was the 4th of July. I was determined to make up for our crappy couple of days so I was extra mellow (read: I bought a 12 pack of Stella) and patient with everyone including my husband. We had a great day. Until it was time for fireworks. My husband was driving (badly) downtown and because he loathes traffic, he was driving in the opposite direction of the fireworks. He made no less than three illegal U-turns, the first blocked oncoming traffic on a bridge for ten minutes. Then he tried to park illegally...only to be stopped by security at that location. I was sure the fiasco was going to prevent us from seeing the fireworks. It didn't. He found a private lot (nice dear) and parked. We walked onto [private] property and watched the show. Granted we were with about 1,000 other people, but, I was in no hurry to mark our holiday with a ticket we could ill afford, or to find my truck with a boot, or worse yet...towed. None of these things happened...thankfully. Then, because we were in a lot that wasn't designated for parking, the police directed all traffic out of lots that were open for parking first. We spent 1.5 hours sitting in the parking lot waiting while H screamed, "wah, wah, wah," over and over again without stopping. BG cried with a frightening intensity during that time, nothing could calm her. My husband and I glared at each other. Yay for holidays!!!
Sunday brought a fever and sore throat for me. I hastened to the urgent care center in a panic after my recent hospital stay. I left with a bottle of antibiotics, but, unfortunately I still feel like the living dead.
Monday was mostly uneventful. I stayed in bed as much as I could nursing my fever and feeling terrible. The kids destroyed the house with abandon. My grandmother showed up around four without warning. She was carrying summer camp info for my big three. She wanted to start them the following morning at seven. Umm...thanks, but, no. The idea of getting six kids out of the house in rush hour traffic at 6:30 in the morning while running a fever was to say the least unpalatable. We agreed that they'll start next Monday instead. Still, I'm not happy about the interruption and misery to our routine.
Tuesday was blessedly uneventful.
Wednesday, H was napping and I noticed he was wearing a plastic circus ear, so I tried to take it off. You know, I gave it a healthy yank, but, I then realized that it wasn't a plastic ear, but, rather his own ear swollen to roughly five times the normal size. Fuck! One emergency trip to the pediatrician ensued. Of course, it was raining. Turned out to be a bug bite. Thankfully, it did not become infected.
Thursday brought TLL's one year well check. Back to the pediatrician in, you guessed it, the rain. She is growing well. 60th percentile for height and 80th percentile for weight. My husband decided to return on Thursday night, because he had to go to the district office to have his computer fixed Friday.
Friday. I had a follow up appointment with my OB/GYN, that I had to miss because my husband conveniently forgot that the reason he was coming into town was to watch the kids while I went to the doctor and he instead decided to *donate* four hours of his time to Uncle Sam and make an appointment to get his computer fixed. Thanks Hubby.
This brings us to today. Party time for H and TLL. My grandparents have chosen not to attend, but, they notified me via e-mail that they will "remember their birthdays at another time." Piss me off much? You betcha. My husband never bothered to call his sister to invite them, so I am assuming that they will not be here even though I sent them an invitation. My stepson also ignored his invitation. My aunt will be here at least. *Sigh* Apparently all of our family is as fucked up and dysfunctional as we are.
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