Well, At Least NOW I Know Why I don't Have any Hobbies

This weekend was, um, interesting I suppose. It all started Friday, or maybe it was Thursday (the days run together when bodily functions dictate the ins and outs of the day) when Princess woke up from her nap, took off her diaper and threw it on the floor...and then crapped all over her bed. She had shit everywhere, up and down her legs, on her feet, in her hands, etc. And I KNOW she didn't poop in her diaper and then take it off. That little package was lying on the floor with not even so much as a skid mark. Dandy! Early bath for you missy!

Saturday John had to take the kids to a birthday party in the city because I was at work, so I came home and cleaned the house because it needed to be done and I was kid free.

And then... he pulled in the driveway telling me he needed the bathwater run. Nate had vomited all over the car...as it was pulling in the driveway. That totally rocks! I think he was just carsick, because he ate crap all day, and was wearing his raincoat (hello hot rubber jacket?) all day and the entire ride home so he was probably hot. However, I 'slept' with him, because the kid can't even aim his junk at a big gaping toilet to pee in it, much less run and quickly aim frow up in said gaping hole.

Sunday the girls were coming over to scrapbook. I don't scrapbook. I write in my baby books, organize my kids photos, and separate and organize all their mementos and art work. I thought I was done cleaning, until Super Nate decided to show us how well he pooped in the toilet. "Come See it! It's bigger poop!". So, as John started following a half naked Nate into the bathroom, Nate, who was excited about his big turd and running full force slipped on his own urine puddle, and banged his head into the step stool we have in the bathroom. Glad the poo made it in at least, but again, even sitting on the toilet he forgets to push his thing down so it sprays everywhere. I got the Lysol bucket out and decided I should probably scrub all the bathrooms. Who knows on what other linoleum floor Nate body surfed in his own urine?

As the girls began to arrive, I helped them carry all their stuff in. These gals are VERY serious about this hobby. Hundreds, maybe THOUSANDS of dollars are spent on this stuff. I jokingly asked John if he wasn't glad I had a cheep hobby (like, no hobby?) like exercise and he goes "You bought new shoes that weren't cheep" or something equally retarded as that. I bought new shoes because my old trainers had holes in them and I have plantar fascitis doofus because my old shoes were 4 years old or more. Really? This is what he complains about?

Now, as I said, these girls are serious, and their work is beautiful. Maybe one of them will send me a picture of their books so I can show everyone. Jen is working on this really cool bible study scrapbook, that as she said isn't really religious, but more spiritual. That is admirable, because I don't have time to even be spiritual. I always have someone up my butt needing, wanting, crying, clinging, hollering, etc.

I realize now though, why I don't have a real hobby. How can I? John didn't really watch the kids while everyone was here, he was too busy doing things he wanted to do, like wire the basement and such. True, the little ones napped for a bit, but Jack was running around with his buddy and reporting in to me, and when Madders woke up she was all over me. It was kind of a pain in the ass-pardon my french, but there isn't any other way to describe it.

This is why I excercise like a fiend for 2 hours a day (that's the longest the kid room lets kids stay for free babysitting.) It is truly the only thing I can do kid free, because even if I had a hobby I could do here, the kids would ruin it-Thanks to the lack of support. Even as I sit here blogging, Jack has asked me about 15 times to do pbskids.org. For real. Leave me alone for 10 minutes--I'm a quick typist.

Sigh. Maybe I'm just crabby because I don't really talk to my husband. There isn't any time in the day--he's been leaving around 5, and getting home late...last night it was around 7:30. Whatever he's doing doesn't really allow for phone calls home during the day either. Blah. Anytime else we try to talk we are either interrupted, or someone is yelling/screaming. It's not really conducive to adult conversation, which is mostly why I don't even call anyone anymore. The beasts go totally wild when I'm on the phone, and then I get mad. It's just depressing.

I was talking to Jenny around 7:15 and she was amazed the kids were all in bed already, since the sun was still out. Well, hon, my kids are up and running around the house shooting each other by a quarter to six, Nate and Jack both aren't napping lately, so a 13 plus hour day is long enough for anyone, especially me.

Okay, enough venting. I downloaded the Juno soundtrack today and it's making me feel better. What a fun little musical ditty. Cute movie too.

I better go make sure there aren't any bodily function liquids OR solids anywhere on the floors or in the beds. Good luck to me.