There is a monster in my house, well not just my house, it’s everywhere. It’s real. It’s not an imagined shadow on the wall, or hidden under the bed nor does it disappear when the lights go on. This monster instills pure terror into James-z, my 3 year old, and leaves him trembling and sobbing.  I’ve seen it, I’ve even been able to photograph it. Over the last year it has used the happiness it sucks from James-z and fed its evil power to morph. It has become a shape-shifter. It menacingly takes on other shapes, seemingly innocent shapes that make most people smile. But not my little man. It shows up in different forms and different places, always taunting, always terrorizing. It is his worst enemy – his arch nemesis that strips him of his happy go lucky self and leaves him a trembling little boy scared to move until it has been exterminated, at least for the time being.

Two days ago, the monster lay in waiting for James. Lying still, it knew he would come -and he did. I was in the hall as James went flying past me laughing hysterically at his sister who was chasing him. In an instant, but almost as if in slow motion it happened, James leapt at the moment he saw it. His blood curdling scream gave him wings to fly over the top of the monster – it’s claws outstretched – reaching for him. I saw it happening and yet could not move fast enough to stop it, to help James before the beast pierced his fun with an arrow of terror. I ran into the room and scooped James up, I knew I had to hide his face, keep him from seeing the grotesque creature. But he was kicking, crying, trying to get farther into the corner away from the beast. I dropped him onto the bed and like a mother bear went after the monster.

I grabbed this thing with a fierceness that only a mother could do, it fought back. He flew out of my grasp and tried to run. I grabbed it again and took it down the hall. Looking around frantically for anything that I could use to send it back to it’s own world. Where is the portal, the magic box that once shut cannot be opened from the other side to let them into our world… I looked around frantically and then I saw it. The gateway portal to this thing’s world, I had to send it away, I had to keep it from terrorizing my son. I grabbed the golden handle and swung open the box, with a rush of part adrenaline, part “don’t mess with this momma” attitude I flung the creature high and far and slammed the portal shut.

My knees were weak, I slid down to the ground as my high from adrenaline dropped and left me drained. I realized that there seemed to be peace in the house, I had done it. My son was going to be free from the terror this horrific creature brought to him. My son was free, I was free.

Hailey, my 5-year old ran to me. I knew she was going to see me as fierce and brave; her mom, the hero. Her mouth opening I waited to hear her give me the praise I deserved;

“Uh, Mom, why did you put my singing dog in the closet?”

My life is in a holding pattern right now, and while I’m happy where we are, I’m really tired of waiting for things to go through.  I wish there was more I could do to move things along but really, I’m doing all I can do.

First and foremost, I’m waiting on my house hunting days to be over.  I was initially looking for a small condo or town-home to live in for a couple years till we bought a house.  But after experiencing the true “pleasure” of finding and procuring a home, I think I’ll pass on ever doing this again if I can help it.  So we’re looking at good ole’ homes to spend the rest of our lives in.  I currently have 40 houses on my radar, 13 back up offers, and 5 pending offers (waiting for the bank/seller to accept).  I’m keeping my eye out on new properties but really, all I need is a bank to approve my offer (on the house on Ellis if anyone who wants to accept that offer is reading this, PLEASE).

I remember watching movies and TV shows with people buying houses and I don’t ever recall them searching for months, with no luck, to buy a house.  I recall them looking at 4 they like and then buying one.  I guess I don’t recall them changing poopy diapers everyday either so maybe I should stop basing life off fictional entertainment anymore.

The second thing I’m waiting on is my darn engagement ring.  I don’t normally wear rings because I have such skinny fingers, I’m worried it’s going to look weird.  But at the same time, I’m extremely excited that it’s not your typical engagement ring.  Can you say Black Tahitian Pearl?  It’s going to be amazing, and nothing can compare.  Not that it’s better than any diamond, it’s just who else is going to have a engagement ring anything like it?  It would be like trying to compare art from Van Gogh and Michelangelo.  Anyway, my ring should have been here last Wednesday and I am still patiently waiting.

I’m also waiting on diapers and babylegs to be shipped to me.  But when comparing it to a home and a engagement ring, it just seems silly to be too concerned over these.  Althought I am really excited about getting more babylegs.  I hate pants on JD, they’re always too short.

Wouldn’t it be amazing if everything arrived/happened on the same day?  Can you say best day ever?  I can.

A detail neatly absent from a Stay At Home Mom’s Job Description: Exterminator. Orkin-Mom. Protect your beautiful baby from the creepy-crawlies that upset your lovely home in their wayward travels from the basement.

When it comes to creepy-crawlies and creatures, I discriminate. I don’t hate them all, per se, the cute ones I can live with….ladybugs, bumblebees, caterpillars. However, when it comes to the ugly utilitarian millipedes with 70,000 legs and the body the size of my pinky finger, then, yes, I hate.

I hate with the heat of 1,000 jilted lovers.

I hate with the passion of 10,000 teenagers in parked cars.

So when I see the creature hanging out at the intersection of wall and ceiling, living room, USA, I sigh. This is not how I want to start my morning.

I sigh because I know this will be an hour’s worth of planning. I will spend an hour strategizing this small battle, preparing the demise of this invader. Most of the hour is spent simply staring at it, wishing it away, ensuring it doesn’t move, gathering my strength for the task at hand. The Department of Public Works drives by, sucking up leaves, I consider for a moment waving them down to save me; I reject that plan because I am a Strong. Independent. Woman. No man needed for this job.

I collect my tools.

baseball cap. check.

long sleeve shirt. check.

gloves. check.

jeans. check.

socks & shoes. check.

broom & dustpan. check.

DirtDevil Handvac. check.

hairspray with aggressive & pointed spray pattern. check.

Gumption? Moxie? Backbone? Decidedly, disappointingly absent.

My plan of attack is simple. Disorient him with hairspray. Bat with broom. Collect in dustpan and throw outside. Contingency plan? Spray, bat, suck. I plug the vac into an outlet close to the door, so I can run with it still on and toss it outside.

I pull my socks up over my jeans – to prevent it from running up my pant leg, natch – and pull my gloves on to keep the openings of my sleeves closed, arrange the cap down over tucked up hair and step to 3 feet from the wall.

With knocking knees, I collect what strength I have and talk myself through it.

one…..two….three…..PSHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

F–k! S–t! Dammit! He’s on the run! PSHHHHHHHH some more. He drops to the floor and squirms. **shudder** He’s too fast, too fast. VROOOOOMMMMM. I have to suck, there’s a thud in the handvac. In a tizzy, I run to the door and throw the vac to the stoop. I unplug it, run it to the garage where it sits.

I realize I’m shaking like I had too much coffee. I’m shaking like I just got through a real emergency. This scene takes place in less than 30 seconds, yet I’m acting as though it’s a life-changing event.

For the rest of the day, I wear shoes. I glance suspiciously at the site where the demise went down. Is there evidence? Did I imagine my success? Is it back? Before I settle back into my loveseat, I inspect the area, to assure myself the rest of the bug family hasn’t set up camp on the armrest, behind the couch, in the blanket draped over the back.

I re-tell my tale to my husband when he comes home.

I don’t think he bought the level of bravado I tell it with. He’s seen me encounter spiders and knows I’m remarkably “girly” when it comes to the ugly pests.

This small victory is in my arsenal of successes when I’m questioning my mothering abilities. I protected and saved my son from the millipede.

I’m like the police. Only cuter.

I just got back from a great little trip to Disneyland with Jonny and our two friends. It was an excellent time with a couple setbacks but overall a win in regards to vacationing.

I pulled the bad mommy card and decided to leave Baby J at home so:

1. Jonny and I could experience our first real vacation together with minimal stress
2. We could celebrate our engagement as fiances and not as Mommy and Daddy.
3. Baby J’s first trip to Disneyland will be something our extended family could come to and enjoy as well.  (that and he can walk and go on rides and all that)

For the first time ever, I went on a vacation with no plan of what we were to do, budget of what I was to spend, and heck, we didn’t even know who was going until we got in the car and left!  It was a little stressful for me to go with the flow like that.  I’m little Miss Planner and little Miss Frugal all in one.  You can’t find the deals if you don’t know what you’re doing till you’re doing it!  I think I managed well but I have a feeling when I was overwhelmed by the whole idea of blowing so much money and not “getting your monies worth” the group could tell (sorry guys).

What was amazing about the whole no plan thing, is that most of the trip was unorganized chaos, something I’ve never experienced on vacation before!  The first and third day were running around, doing things on the fly and the second was one amazing shit show of drunks.  We drunkenly explored Tarzan’s Tree House, the Safari River and Downtown Disney, as well as sneakily drank in public, rode Grizzly Falls 100 times, and ate at the Blue Bayou.  I don’t think we ruined any children’s Disney vacations but we definitely ruined a buss driver’s night.

So overall, Disneyland for the WIN! My engagement ring, however, is now put on hold.

While I was gone, Baby J learned to crawl backwards, started a growth spurt, and can now go from sitting to crawling. I never noticed how many babies there are at Disneyland till this trip.. And every time I saw one, I found myself scrambling for my camera to look at old pictures of Baby J. He looks older now that I’m back and that makes me sad.  I feel like there’s a space between us now too.  Like when a baby animal falls in mud and it’s parents will shun it because they don’t recognize its scent.  Luckily, I’m more than aware this babe is mine.. Even though he seems different now.

It was a good trip and I’m happy to be home.  Next time I’d like to save for the trip a little better so I don’t feel like I’m spending my backup savings (and engagement ring funds ).  But really it was a nice, well deserved break from life.

I have no clue how to blog

You are sooooo sexy!

Love,

Erinpants.

Bitches, bitches, bitches.

With love,
MommaNette