The Birth Of A Blog Post.

*tap keys*

*tap keys*


*tap keys*

*check Twitter*

*check Facebook*

*wiggle toes*

*think about using the restroom*


*tap keys*

Target.  Have to go to Target.  Need a good grocery shop.

It’s Wednesday.  I have to work tonight.

Laundry in the dryer, needs to be put up.  Should wash another load.

Want to put some shorts on and go outside.  It’s gorgeous out.  We should go play.

I need to get dressed.

I really need to go pee.

What do I write about today?  Sleep stuff?  Am I ready for that yet?

I can’t believe how long it’s been since I’ve taken any pictures.  I need to post some pictures.

*lick lips*

*stomach grumbles*

I should probably eat something else.

It’s so quiet in here when Ronan is napping.

Ugh.  PLEASE let today be better than yesterday, I can’t take all the whining.

Maybe we can go to a movie tonight… oh yeah, I have to work.

*check Twitter*

*click teeth together*

I need to comment on some posts!

I need to eat.

*blink, blink*

Ok, Mandy.  Get a move on.

I still need to pee.

WHAT do I write about today?

*tap keys*

Is it possible to write about nothing?

It must be possible.

I’m going to write about NOTHING.  Here goes…

And THAT, people, is how a blog post gets written.

I Don’t Want To Write About This.

So, I’m upset and I was going to sit and write an email.   Then I realized that I hadn’t posted a blog in several days, which is unacceptable, so I decided to write a blog instead.

Why am I upset?

I have spent the last two and a half years of my life as the happy female half of a wonderful couple.  My husband is a ‘gamer’ in that he loves video games, and spends as much time playing as he can get away with.  However, he’s always been reasonable about his playing time, and has never really left me feeling like I wasn’t getting to spend enough time with him.  Until recently.  I have discovered that the only reason I wasn’t a gamer-widow more often was because my husband didn’t have a computer that allowed him to play as frequently or for as long as he wanted.

Then he got a new PC for Christmas.

I now remember why I always swore to myself that I would never get involved with a man that played video games again.

What really breaks my heart is that I had such a great Christmas, and want to post about our holiday, our gifts, and all the wonderful pictures that I took… but all I can think about is how much it sucks that my husband wants to sit upstairs on his computer and play.   Better yet, instead of wanting to come downstairs for a while, he wants to baby-proof the UPSTAIRS, and have Ronan and I go up there with him.   Because sitting next to him while he’s completely absorbed in a game is JUST as good as spending quality time with him anywhere else in the house.

Hold on, I forgot to hold up my “sarcasm” sign.

This morning, when I got up with Ronan, the boy whom had just spent the most HORRIBLE nights sleep in bed with me, Brock asked me if I wanted him to get up instead so they could let me sleep.   Only I figured out this trick… the one where he says he’s going to get up, but instead lets Ronan stay up and play in bed with us until I get mad and tell them to leave.  After that, he brings Ronan back into the room any time he’s fussy or tired, so I don’t get any real sleep.   Today, I said no instead, and told Brock to sleep in so I could have a good nap in the afternoon before my midnight shift.

Ronan and I got up at 7:00.  Brock got up at 9.  I was watching my Christmas present, P.S. I love you, when he got out of bed.  I knew he had no interest in watching it with me for the third time, so he went upstairs to his computer.   I put Ronan down for a nap at 10.  My movie ended at 10:30.  Ronan woke up at 12:00 (blessed 2 hour naps!), and Brock was still up on his computer.   At 1:00, I had decided that it was time for me to have a nap, and asked if Brock was planning on coming down “any time today?”   He finished his game, told his buddies that he had to go, and then came downstairs.   I said that I wanted to sleep for a few hours, and went to the guest room so baby naps wouldn’t wake me.  I woke up at 4:30, and got in the shower for work.

The whole point of that WHOLE paragraph?   Brock and I spent exactly ZERO time together today.   It has just begun, and it’s already starting to REALLY get to me.

What’s even more, this is our evening text conversation:

7:17pm – Me – I love you.

8:15pm – Me – Where are you?

8:16pm – Brock – I love you. Ronan is being mad.

8:16pm – Me – Oh no 🙁 Did you give him oatmeal?

11:23pm – Me – Are you playing on your computer?

12:01am – Brock – Kinda. Been in and out of the bed room a lot.

12:01am – Me – Baby troubles?

12:28am – Me – Are you gone to bed?

12:36am – Me – I wish you would answer me. I worry when you don’t. I love you and I hope you aren’t having a bad night.

1:12am – Me – I guess I’m just gonna assume you gont tired and fell asleep. I’ll see you in the morning.

3:07am – Brock – Going to bed now. Love you.

Ok, seriously?  I know games are mad fun and shit, but it doesn’t take THAT LONG to answer a text.  This is an inside joke, and you will not get it, but ALL I’M ASKING FOR IS A LITTLE CONSIDERATION.

I know it’s new, and the shiny fun-ness of it will probably wear off.  I’m just hoping the fun-ness goes away before all of my patience does.

Video-Mini: Chief Ronan

Actual Conversation:

Me:  Hey mom… what is the name of the type of Indian we have in our family?  I tried to tell Brock what it was and I couldn’t remember.

Mom: Let me think… um… Oh!  The Micmac Indians!

Me: (begins laughing) Are you serious?  When I couldn’t remember the name, I told Brock they were called something like, “The Paddiwhack Indians.”

Mom: (begins laughing too)  Paddiwhack, Mandy?

Me:  Yeah, mom.  You know… The Micmac… Paddiwhack…

Mom: … give a dog a bone!  (laughs uncontrollably until she has to go pee.)

For real, I’m that smart.

My son is 1/32 Micmac indian, and 1/32 Cherokee indian.

Finding my Groove, and Sleep Saga Continued.

I think I’m starting to hit my groove at work.  That doesn’t mean I’m starting to LIKE it any more, but really that I’m getting used to the whole she-bang.  It’s about par for the course, it usually takes me about 6 months at a new job to not feel like a total idiot.  It took a little longer this time, but I’d like to believe that a massive lack of sleep had something to do with it.

Have I ever mentioned how much I love getting home in the morning and seeing my two boys still sleeping in bed?  I stand in the doorway and watch them sleep for a few minutes before I do anything.  It does my heart good.

I didn’t want to jinx it by writing about it sooner, but Ronan has been sleeping GREAT for over a week now!  He wakes up once (and sometimes twice) a night to eat.  That’s it!  It seems to keep getting better and better as well.  He’s starting to learn to comfort himself back to sleep.  And by comfort, I mean he throws his body around in all directions until he conks out again, resulting in some hilariously awkward positions.  I must take pictures.  But anywho.  Perhaps the saga of the sleep-bitching is over.  Please, let it be so.  I knew the day would come when his ability to sleep would outgrow his desire to wake every hour.  I’m glad it got here sooner than later.  And I’m glad I never let him cry it out.

Pity Party

I’ve been enjoying a bit of self pity lately.

I’ll not get into details.  It’s all rather self absorbed.

Self pity is sort of like swimming in a pool filled with chocolate pudding.  I mean, who really wants to do that?  But once you’re in there, you’re like, whoa, chocolate pudding.  So you stay.  And you kind of enjoy it, because seriously – chocolate pudding.

Then, you invite other people to join you, but… they don’t want the chocolate pudding that you’ve been swimming in all day.  That’s just gross.

If you don’t get it, don’t ask.  I’m in a crabby mood.  No one wants to swim in my chocolate pudding with me.