I Love Sunday Mornings.......Well, Maybe

Aaaaah there's nothing like sleeping in on a Sunday morning (ha, yea right, if you have no kids) I woke up this morning, the crack ass of dawn, as usual, with the sound of mama, mama. I slowly cracked one eyelid open and there, less than a 1/4 inch from my face with a bad case of morning breath, was Hell boy.

"Go awaaaaaaaaay", I said. He just kept up with the mama mama's until I literally rolled out of bed onto the floor. I had just been up with Giggle toots three hours prior for a feeding.

I come from a loud Italian family, so it's no wonder Hell boy inherited my loud mouth, so of course he woke up Giggle toots with his mama mama's. Someone make it stop! Is there no rest for the weary? I'm 40, I should be sleeping in at least until noon, then getting up drinking a smoothie in peace wondering what my children are doing a whole city away from me. Instead, I'm being woken up by a 2 year old, a 7 month old and wondering if my 21 year old ever put his laundry in the dryer from last night.

Two diaper changes later, I make my way to the breakfast room and find a lovely work of art from Hell boy..........on my wall. Today is going to be a blasty blast, I tell ya.

Super Hero Nugget

Hell boy pretending to be some weird Mr. Fix It super hero, although I think he looks more like Tweety Bird on crack

Super villian or super cold............ummm where'd his mouth go?

Super rock star that doesn't seem to know where his ears are....................

You probably notice that in all these pics Hell boy is half "neked", the boy never wears clothes at home, he HATES clothes.  He'll only wear them without a problem if we go somewhere and then occasionally will try to take his shirt off in public.  My 16 year old girl was like that too, except she liked being completely naked.  This must run in the ol' genes because my mother told me when I was like 2 or 3 I stripped down to nothing and ran down the street.  Good times, gooooooood times.

My Fortress of Solitude....

Ok, so I'm 40 with a 2 yr. old and a 6 month old so Lord knows I need a break, actually a DAILY break (I think a 1 year break would be pushing it not to mention land me in jail). My southern fried guy gets his little breaks all through the day and night by sneaking outside for 15-30 minutes at a time for a smoke break, must be nice!! So all I ask for is the time it takes to shower and get my makeup on in peace and quiet which may equate to an hour depending if I have to wash and dry my hair.

I treasure this time and have officially designated my closet as my Fortress of Solitude. It's a large walk-in closet for those of you who think I sit in a square for an hour. I have a mirror and a shoe box full of my cosmetics in there to chill while getting ready (of course my big day outings usually involve just going to Wal-mart, but hey, why not look good doing it?).

However, today my fortress was tainted with the likes of a drooling baby chewing on my makeup brushes and a two year old jumping on my back while I was trying to apply my eyeliner. Why? Because my husband decided he needed to shave. What the F? So when we returned home from our outing which was nothing but crying babies and me crawling from the front seat into the back all day long to hush the baby and to fetch the toys hell boy kept throwing, I decided to make my way to the kitchen and poor a nice cold glass of wine. Of course who has time to sit and enjoy wine with the nuggets driving me insane?? So, I chugged it, smiled and said I love me some cheap ass wine! Then........ it was off to change a shitty diaper.

Lawnmowers MUST DIE

Alright so I didn't get to bed until 2:30 this morning, because the 2 year old took a power nap from 7p-9p and wouldn't remotely go to bed until 2am.  Of course the 5 month old had to follow suit, although every time giggle toots tries to go to sleep (I call the 5 month old that because all he does is laugh and fart) the 2 year old screams in his face or is louder than hell and wakes him anyways.  So finally everyone's in bed, including myself by 2:30am.

Then I'm awoken by a horrendous noise as if an airplane was landing on my house, what the F??? The damn neighbor's yard crew is out there mowing and weed whacking at friggin' 8am. Which of course woke up giggle toots. I wanted to jump out of bed in my mismatched bedroom attire and go kick somebody's ass!!  Is there no respect for mother's who get no sleep because they are up with a baby during the night? Can the dude next door not mow his own damn yard?  Why the F are lawnmower's so loud, I mean dishwashers are "quiet" now why can't they make "quiet" lawnmowers?  The asshole was so close to my bedroom window, I probably could have opened it, leaned out and choked him out.  Finally when they made it to the other side of the dude's yard, no doubt now pissing off the other neighbor I was able to get myself and giggle toots to half way go to sleep when.............dunt dunt duuuuuuuuuh who I do I hear coming down the stairs yelling "ding" "ding" the two year old, aka "hell boy" he's a hot mess let me tell you.

Of course Ding means Superman (what you didn't know that?) he says batman, ironman etc. but refuses to say superman, how he came up with Ding who knows.  So I get him comfortable watching Wonder Pets (this has to be the gayest show ever) he loves it.  Then I take a visit to the downstairs tinkle room where I end up sitting in the 21 year olds pee, apparently he was too lazy to lift the seat the last time he took a piss and got some on the seat only to greet my happy ass this morning.  Oddly, the 16 year old girl always dribbles on the toilet seat too, is this some sort of genetic mutation that runs in my family?  Are my kids trying to piss me off?  Why is the 21 year old boy still in my house?

So here I am on Friday morning with dark circles under my eyes, piss on my left ass cheek and a 2 year old screaming pancakes! pancakes!  It's going to be a wonderful day....................