Six Things I Wish I Had Never Said Today

1. "Yes, Inara.  Daddy's balls really are nicer than mine (while rolling out cookie dough balls on the cookie pan)."
2. "Sweetie, boogers are for putting into kleenex.  Not for wiping on your face.  And please don't teach Nissa how to do that."
3. "Oh Nissa. I know you are learning to explore new textures, but the contents of your diaper don't count (insert gag reflex here)."
4. "Oh look!  An apple-skin bracelet.  For me.  How...interesting.  Ummm - is that a booger in the center?"
5. "Thanks for cheering me on while I go to the bathroom, girls.  I just love having an audience while I do my business!"
6. "Inara, I do not want to have a farting contest right now.  No, not even a little farting contest.  Not even a pretend one. How do you even know what a farting contest is?  Did your daddy put you up to this?"

Somedays Motherhood really is so glamorous, innit?

Why You Shouldn't Read My Blog. Ever.

I was recently advised to have a giveaway in order to attract more blog readers...as if the number of people reading my blog is what defines what makes this blog worth reading (did that sentence make sense to you?  Because it barely did to me.  I definitely think I need more caffeine).

So here's the thing.  I don't want to give away stuff just because it will make people pay attention to me for the duration of the giveaway.  Believe me, I am FAR needier than that (and apparently far more masochistic too.  Yay for me).  What I truly want is for people to pay attention to me ALL THE FREAKING TIME.  I'm kidding of course, but only mostly.  And like some really freaky new-age parent, I am not going to bribe you kidlets with cookies (or whatever else it is that you might be after) to get you to stay.  Call me the Unconditional Parenting version of the Mama Blogger.  You will find no praise, no rewards and no encouragement from me if you decide to stick around. In fact, it will probably mostly suck and at times you might want to gouge your eyeballs out with a hot poker as I prattle on about me, myself, and my many and varied needs.

Oh and if you do decide to share this pathetic excuse for a blog with the world, say on your Facebook page, or Twitter account -- don't go thinking you're doing me any favors.  I consider myself far too high-class to engage in such trivial matters (which really means I don't know how to self-promote via social networking. I totally failed that class because I was busy making goo-goo eyes at the geek sitting beside me), and I would never in a million bazillion years ever admit:
a) I need your help if I'm ever going to attract more readers that are actually interested in what I have to say.
b) There is no amount of free giveaway crud that could ever express how much it would mean to me if you thought enough of my blog to share it with the world. 
c) I am too poor to fund some lousy contest. 

So unless you want some free stuff that is lying around my house, then this is the real deal and you will just have to learn to live with it.  Okay I lied. I did just find this lovely piece of original artwork by my genius daughter that I might be willing to part with:

She swears that all the people are actually happy - despite their range of miserable expressions.  Poor kid, she's probably taking out her angst on me because I never ever praise her for her work.  Evil mommy.

Taking A Mental Health Day...

...because I don't think it's healthy for me to keep getting really flipping peeved at the dorkbutt sellers of Crazy Tenant House (which I am now officially renaming Crazy Owner House because the tenant looked downright sane compared to the crud we have had launched at us by the owners).

I think Inara is totally on to me being stressed, because this morning she said: "Mama, you are not listening to what I need.  But all I really need is water, sunshine and LOVE." - which made me simultaneously burst out into tears and laughter.  So, I think I need to take a day (or two or three) off from house-hunting.  My babies need love (and apparently water and sunshine.  Clearly Inara thinks she is a flower, which is fine by me) and I need to love on them a bit to feel normal again.

We haven't completely ruled out Crazy Owner House, but we're not chomping at the bit anymore.  We don't think anyone else has put in an offer, and so we are going to do some background work of our own over the next few days and see if we can come up with a more reasonable offer.  Which basically means Yousuf will do most of the work while I don't ignore my kids and don't serve frozen pizza for dinner for the fourth day in a row.  Woot!

In the meantime, we'll still be looking for our place to call home. I'm definitely disappointed, but not totally discouraged.  We'll just see what happens.  I think this whole fiasco has opened my eyes to what a crazy rollercoaster of emotions you can go through when you're looking to buy a house.  And for someone who gets as worked up as I do - it's a dangerous game, indeed.

Lucky for me, I have great friends.  Friends who have commented, emailed, called and sent me pictures of latex undergarments (don't ask.  I have the humor of a pre-teen boy, and my friends totally know it) to make me laugh out loud and wonder if rubber chafing is actually worse than what I'm feeling right about now.  I'm guessing yes.  I love you, friends - and I really dig you too, readers-of-my-little-bloggy.  All of you help to keep me sane(ish).

Tonight I am going to catch up on my Hulu (I can't believe that I still haven't watched the last Dollhouse!  NO SPOILERS!  Boo on you, Fox, for canceling another one of Joss' shows...grumblegrumblegrumble) and then maybe I'll make out with my husband for a bit.  Sounds like a recipe for happiness to me!

 

Keeping it all in perspective. Or at least trying to.

Huh. Well That Was Officially The Weirdest Negotiation Ever.

So let's just say, hypothetically speaking - that you find a house that you'd like to buy, and that house costs X.  You then put in an offer of X-5 which is still a pretty good deal for the seller.  Then you wait and agonize all day.  Then, at the very last minute, the seller comes back with a counter offer of X+10.  You read that right, folks.  Their counter offer is higher than their listing price.  I don't know about you, but this officially smacks of stoopid to me.

There was a saying that the boys at my college used to whisper amongst themselves, and I think it applies nicely in this situation.  I believe it went something like this:

Don't stick it in the crazy.  Otherwise you'll live to regret it.

Yep.  I think that works for me.  Sigh.

An Actual Conversation I Had Last Night...

Me: I don't think I can sleep tonight.
Yousuf: Oh yeah?
Me:  Yes.  Definitely no sleep happening.
Yousuf: Why?
Me:  WHY DO YOU THINK?
Yousuf:  Are you nervous?
Me:  Dude.  Nervous doesn't even begin to cover the range of emotions I'm feeling.
Yousuf:  You sound like you're on bad drugs.
Me: I have no idea what you're referring to.  And why the h*ll aren't YOU nervous?
Yousuf:  You have such a potty mouth when you get excitable.
Me:  This isn't about YOU.  It's about me.
Yousuf:  Wha???
Me:  Ugh. How am I going to survive until tomorrow evening?  When is the deadline again?
Yousuf: 6pm.  But it might take longer.
Me: WTF?!?  Longer?!?!?!  Don't they want to sell?
Yousuf:  I dunno, babe.  I've never done this before - I'm just saying it might be 6:01 and  not exactly 6pm.
Me:  Well bloody f*&#*ity f*&^in' h%ll!!!!
Yousuf:  That's my girl.
Me:  Do you ever wish you drank?  Like alcoholic drinks?  Because if I did drink then this would definitely be one of those times that I drank something.
Yousuf:  I think it's a good thing you don't drink. Maybe you just need to take a shower.
Me:  Why?  Do I smell?  Are you repulsed by your nervous stinky wife?
Yousuf:  I just meant to calm yourself down.
Me:  Do you think I would get a nice calming buzz if I sucked out the innards of some alcoholic bonbons?  Because I could so go for that right now.
Yousuf:  I think that we don't drink.  So we don't have any alcoholic bonbons.
Me:  There you go with your f*&#ing RATIONALITY again.  You know, I think I'd love you waaaaay more if you were like 300% less rational right now.
Yousuf:  A person can't be 300% less of anything.  It's impossible.  You shouldn't use math terms to sway me in your favor.
Me: HOW CAN YOU BE SO CALM?!?!?!?!
Yousuf:  It's okay babe.  It's out of our hands now.  We just have to wait and see what they say, and there is no use getting worked up over it.
Me:  Lalalalala...I can't HEAR you...because all I hear is the mind-numbing drone of RATIONAL THOUGHT, which has currently escaped me so I can not compute what you just said.
Yousuf:  Maybe I should go out for a bonbon run?
Me:  Now you're thinking, Dr. McSmarty!
Yousuf:  Anything else you'd like with those?
Me:  New fingernails?  Because I think I just bit all mine down to little nubs.  I swear by the time we're done with all this s*%t my fingers are just going to be lifeless, mangled bloody stumps. 
Yousuf: I'll still love you, stumpy.

We made an offer on a house yesterday evening.  We are still waiting to hear back from the sellers.  And I am dying a slow, painful, alcohol-free death as we wait.  I'll let you know how it turns out tomorrow.

 

This is not the house that we made the offer on.  I thought maybe you'd like to join me in crazyland for a bit and sweat it out with me.  
I'm terrible, I know.