Welcome to Toys R Us

My children have a ridiculous amount of toys. I weed thru them every couple months and the mountains have now formed in my basement. Realistically, I could open a small toy store. Every Easter, Christmas, Valentines Day, birthday hell even Groundhog Day, my family dumps loads of toys at my house. 

Every kid goes thru a few toy phases. Cashs first major toy obsession was Disney Cars. He had to have every single one and all cast members attended bedtime with him. My sister ran around NYC looking for Doc Hudson an almost impossible feat, and wept tears of joy when she finally found him. 

Next came Thomas the Train. Those fuckers aren't cheap. Don bought him a wooden birthday Thomas that cost damn near $30! He has a huge Rubbermaid bin full of wooden and battery operated along with a small bin that contains magnetic trains. There's that OCD again. Now we've become a Ninja Turtle Lair with a side of Hulk smash. 

My house is full of toys. Every where you turn. I can't contain them. We are busting at the seams. Every now and then I'll spaz the fuck out and start tossing shit until Cash cries that he NEEDS that baby teething ring. Then I'll wait until he goes to bed and I'll toss it all. The kid is so damn smart he wakes up and checks to make sure the shit is still where he left it. A meltdown ensues and I am forced to replace the toy just to get a moment of silence. The cycle continues. 

All I want is my house back, but I've come to the realization that until this monsters are out of my house I will continue to live in a daycare center. I just want one room where I can shove kids, toys, dogs and never have to look at a mess again. My house is never dirty, but you can bet your britches it's messy. Someone once made a comment to my best friend about how I should look at the background of the pictures I post before I post them because all she sees is a mess. Besides eat shit, all I have to say is, we live in our house. Kids are only kids once. You're guaranteed to step or sit on a toy but we wouldn't have it any other way.... Bitch. 

   

It's My Party and I'll Stress if I Want To

I was so happy to have both my kids in the summer. Perfect for outside birthday parties. My mother has a double lot so it's an awesome place for parties. Except the stupid weather in this stupid area is never consistent with the season and I always end up in freak out mode days before the party. 

Cashs first birthday predicted rain and I had to scramble last minute for a tent rental, it never rained. We lucked out with the 2nd and 3rd parties, the weather was good so we had them outside. Harlow's first predicted rain so like a lunatic I looked all over and ended up renting the hall at the church I belong to, again it never rained. Yea yea I belong to a church but I never go, I probably should, Lord knows I need Jesus. 

This year is the 4th and 2nd birthdays. The beginning of last week the weather app said rain. The middle of the week it said sun. By Thursday it was back to rain and 61. In the words of Cash "That's it. I'm done with you!" What the fuck is the point of a summer fucking birthday if I can't even have the fucking party out fucking side?! I never have to entertain the monsters at my moms because there is so much to do, so I had no plans on how to keep them all the hell away from me. Luckily after stalking the church for 2 days, I was able to use the hall again. 

I threw my hat in and booked the hall for Harlows party too. The lady asked if I wanted her to pencil is in just in case it's nice out. Now, I'm on the phone with her at 10pm Friday night. I'm over tired, annoyed, on my period and ready to hulk smash something. I took a breath and said "Use pen. We're taking it no matter what". I wanted to say "Fuck this fucking weather. It ruins everything I try to plan outside. Book it. If I have to do this again in August I will absolutely lose my shit". I figured the church going lady would call the pastor and schedule an exorcism instead of letting me use the hall so keeping calm was probably best. 

Every year I stress. Every year I want to cry. I'm like Tori Spelling, my party planning idol, I like going overboad for every party. I stress for a month. Yet I never take WNY weather into consideration. I just assume the weather Gods, who by the way is definitely a bipolar bitchy woman, will like me and bless me with sunshine. But every year she shits on me, a big "Fuck you Amber". Lesson learned. I shall win the war with the weather Gods from now on. We will be at the church hall for every birthday. Take that! 

  

Colic.. It's Not For Everyone

This post is inspired by a friend going through colic. It takes me back to Crabby ass Cash. My friend, we'll call her June as in June Clever, said that someone told her her feelings weren't normal. I'm here to tell her and all of you. It's TOTALLY FUCKING NORMAL!!! 
Colic is crying 24/7 for 3 months straight. Pure hell. It's the worst sound in the world and you think there's nothing in the world that you can do to make it stop. You're already going through a whirl wind of hormones that make you fucking bizerk, the crying is the final buckle on your straight jacket. 

You begin to despise everything your spouse does because he gets a break. He gets to go to work for 8 hours and your trapped alone with a crazy baby. I imagined myself smothering Don with a pillow just because he was breathing. I swore Cash hated me. Everyone else could calm him down except for me. I only lugged his big ass around for 9 months PLUS one extra week. I had my stomach sliced open to give him life. One would think he should be grateful and shut the hell up for 5 minutes so I can recollect my wits. Not for me. Everyone else but not me. 

When you think about getting in your car and running away as far as you can go with no cell phone, you're not alone. When you find yourself thinking about putting the baby outside with a sign saying "Return to Sender, Defective" you're not alone. When you temporarily hate your spouse and everyone/thing around you, you're not alone. And anytime you feel like you're alone, send me a message. I'm happy to reassure you, we all think the same things! 

No Rest For The Wicked

In all 4 years of being a mom last night was the absolute worst. Usually on Wednesday nights we have a slumber party at my moms. Yesterday morning I said we weren't going. 8pm rolls around and the kids want to go so we packed up and left. Now. I should know better then to throw off the routine. I also should know the 2 things that will always always always happen at my moms house. Dinner at 9pm at the earliest and the kids will never go to bed at a reasonable hour. I really fucked up. 

By 945 it was time to put Harlow to sleep. I take her up lay her down, give her the blankies and kitty and look for her binky. It's no where to be found. I only let her have it in bed and I always leave one at my moms. Nope not tonight. That pissed her right off. My mom and I rotated turns trying to calm her down. 1030 Chan finally gets her quiet. Then the hurricane hits. Hurricane Cash. He's over tired and rotten. He comes up begs me to lay with him and when I try to escape he has a melt down waking Harlow up. Now I'm pissed. Chan and I swap rooms and Cash falls asleep for her. Not miss Harlow. She doesn't fall asleep until midnight. 

I got an hour sleep and that's being generous. She woke up all fucking night long. "Binky binky binky". I put her in bed with me and she tossed and turned all night finally passing out around 730am and my alarm went off at 745am. Of course there's no binky so she refuses to nap so I'm stuck with a miserable rotten toddler. I double fucked myself. I will never forget a binky again. I take binkies away at 2. Cash did it cold turkey. She has less than 2 months left. However if I have to go thru a night like that again she can have the god damn thing until she's 15. 

"Screw you mom. I'll nap at 4pm and fight bedtime like the bitch that it is!"

   
 

Feast or Famine

Don and I have a weird way to grocery shop. We do it separately. He buys the dinners for the week, his lunches and breakfasts. I take care of the staples and things I like to eat. It started right after I had Cash. I joined weight watchers and had to eat on a point budget. It was much easier for me to shop on my own. 

Nothing and I mean nothing gives me rage like the rage I feel when I go to eat something I've purchased and its fucking GONE. For example, the time I caught Don using my $6 peanut butter in his protein shakes. Or when I turned around and he was making my oatmeal. Or when I went to make my $3 box of waffles only to discover he and Cash enjoyed the entire box. 

Now, I said I buy the staples and what I like to eat. I don't have many things that are not to be touched but the cavemen are aware of what's mine. So when I buy myself my expensive peanut butter, I buy the others the cheap shit. I buy the name brand waffles and they get the cardboard Great Value garbage. I usually always buy like that because when my husband with the never ending hunger sees what I've bought 9 out of 10 times he's going for it. This is why my grocery bill is always $150. I figure if I buy him his own he will leave mine the fuck alone. I couldn't be more wrong.

Dons theory is if it's sat untouched for a long period of time he's allowed to have it. No, no, no caveman. Did you pick it out? Did you buy it? Was it in your grocery bag and in your car on the ride home? NO! I find myself starving sometimes and I shouldn't have to because your a vulture. It's become a real problem. I've become desperate. I've considered hiding food under the floor boards. I don't mind sharing but for the love of Betsy there better be more than crumbs when I go to get it! 

Today, Harlow had a bag of fruit snacks. Really good ones too. She ate them all except for a few and she was carrying the bag around. Two fell out so I gave one to her and one to Cash. I took the bag, felt the last one and said who wants it? Then in slow motion I put it in my mouth while both kids and Don watched. Don was in shock. He said "I've never eaten the last of anything on the kids." Well guess what. I just did. It's feast or famine in this bitch and I finally won a round!

Cashs One Liners Part One

While I didn't want to come home last night I sure did miss my monsters. They waited up for me, I gave them their gifts, Peppa Pig car for Harlow and Incredible Hulk for Cash. Harlow gasped and said "oh my gosh", Cash said "I was hoping it was Raphael." I am so glad I fought thru a crowd of asshole tourists to get you this stupid $20 piece of plastic. In honor of his smart mouth I'd like to share of Cash one liners with you. 

"Man, Dodo (Courtney) moves a lot. Jays house, her compartment, now another house?! We're going to have to buy some outside toys because you know I don't have any there."

"Mommy don't make that face. I can see cracks around your eyes."

"Cash what's his real name?"                    "Felicia"                                                    "No his real name"                                    "Gorilla juice head. That's what mommy says his name is."

"Cash go to your room".                          "I thought you loved me".      

"Cash I have to walk Amma to her car it's dark out".                                           "Get a grip Amma. You'll find your way"

"Jill can you give me breakfast? Mommy didn't feed us again"

Mark the barber: "Cash take 3 suckers. 1, 2, 3".                                                     Cash: "I will take one more for sis. You know how she is"

"Harlow come here. Let's take a selfie"

"My name is Cash Michael Ranalli. Cash Money"

"Cash. Why would you do that?"            "I swallowed bugs and they made me bad"

"OK fine mommy. I'm going to California".                                               "How are you going to get there".            "An airplane".                                          "And who's going to pay for it".              "Somebody else"

Papa Steve: "Maybe Amma will go buy us some cookies. Well I'll probably have to go buy us some cookies".         Cash: (shaking his finger) "And don't you eat them in the car!"

Me: "Cash wait a minute. I can't do 10 things at once I'm not an octopus. Go clean up".     10 minutes later... "Cash go get your stuff for a nap".               Cash: " Mommy. I'm cleaning up I'm not an octopus"

Stay tuned for more famous one lines from my smart ass 4 year old! 

Hot and Homeless

I am not about the hot life. I need AC everywhere I go or I get angry. I hate to sweat. I hate to be sticky, I hate to stand in the sun, I hate to be hot. in fact I sometimes get violent when hot and walking in tight places with stupid ass tourists who stop every 5 seconds without looking at who is behind them. NYC smells but NYC really smells in the summer. The body odor could kill a cow and every corner smells like urine. 

Day one was in the 80s. Day two was in the 70s so it wasn't bad. Today was around 86. It felt like none of the stores had the AC on which made me not want to try anything on. And when I did I felt like a hot, sweaty, sloppy tourist. My clothes were sticking to me and my feet were so hot you could cook an egg on them. 

I will never understand how homeless people wear every piece of clothing they own when it's this hot out. Or foreigners for that matter. 

That leads me to the homeless of NYC. Now I understand there is a huge homeless population here. I get it. I've been here enough times to know they are on every street corner. They don't bother me. However, a coupleof them    definitely stood out this year. Walking back to the room Friday night, there were 3 people on the side of the road. A girl was sitting against a building, so high she was bent over and falling to the side. Her next door neighbor was on his knees ass up, pants down and some black tight undies swaying back and forth. Say no to drugs kids. Earlier in the day we saw a homeless woman with no shoes and toe nails that looked like hermit shells. WOOF. 

But the winner of the weekend is the dick. I saw a homeless mans dick. He was passed out on a bench in front of Madison Square Garden, pants below his ass, boxers with the hole wide open. I warned the others not to look. On the way back they looked and wanted to gauge their eyes out. Lesson learned. Pay more attention when Amber speaks.