Perfectly imperfect momma

So you know I’m on mood stabilizers, that’s no secret and you know they put a good 30 lbs on my little ass which is also no secret and has led me to finally start exercising or at least attempting too. It’s always been a challenge for me to exercise with the Monster in the house. I mean he does it with me which is totally awesome, expect for when I’m doing jumping jacks and he tries to crawl in between my fucking legs or when I’m doing downward facing dog and he’s crawling under me like a bridge–it’s a little distracting to say the least.  Two days in, I finally made it through one of Jillian Michael’s 20 min kick your ass sessions, I mean work out sessions.  My legs are killing me, I can barely sit and when I attempt to stand I look  as if something needs to be pulled out of my ass first (sorry, for the mental picture) but she’s hard-core. I was so sore from the previous two days that I took yesterday off and ate ice cream (yes, I’m ashamed) just don’t tell the Officer, OK? I’ve been doing really well with my new eating plan. I’m just doing my best to stay away from fast food and junk–so far, so good.

On to something totally unrelated, yesterday morning when I got to work I was handed a slip, your girl was chosen as the lucky one for a random drug test. There’s nothing I love more than going down to one of those facilities all dressed up among the construction works that come in and have them stare at me (or any other chick) as if they’ve never seen a woman dressed in office attire before. What the fuck are you look at is what I’d like to yell! I think it might be a good idea to pop a xanax right before I go, that way I’ll be clam and not attempt to kill any constructions workers while giving  the lab techs testing my urine something to talk about—Oh, but guess what little urine analyzes lady—-I have a scrip for that so, boom!

Just so you know and I sure I’ve mentioned this before, farting at our house is funny, the louder the better (yeah, I know awesome parenting) but there is one rule, if you do fart you MUST say excuse me (see I’m somewhat teaching manners) Last night after the Monster and I had been in bed for about 10 mins I felt him moving around. I flipped over to find him on this hands and knees with his ass aimed right at my face. WHAT ARE YOU DONG??!!  I asked (as if I didn’t know he was attempting to brew up a huge one and let it rip right in my fucking face) He started laughing. I popped that butt and told him to lay his self down and not to ever make the mistake of trying to blow up in someone’s face again. Just disgusting I mean shit, what kind of sick kid am I raising!? Ok, after I turned away so he couldn’t see my face I will admit I didn’t laugh quietly I mean come on–yes, it was disgusting, but turning over and see Mickey Mouse staring me right in the face knowing damn well what he’s getting ready to do, now whether you admit it or not, that  some funny shit.

The monsters a terrible eater, he has been since birth. Getting him to eat normal is something we’ve always struggled with. Yesterday his brilliant teacher told me she puts his food into patterns when it’s lunch time and she’s noticed that he’s been eating better. So, last night I cut up his chicken patty and made a face out of the pieces with the smile being french fries…..he ate it! What’s up with that? I guess it appears more interesting than food just thrown on a plate and keeps his attention long enough for him to dismember it (the smiley face that is). Once again, kind of disturbing, but hey–whatever works. That’s parenting at it’s best  right?  By any means necessary.

Speaking of the face eating, fart machine there he is right there–pretty cute right?