You go to take a drink of your coffee and the cup is EMPTY?

...Yeah, me too.

Kas

My coworker is watching The Tyra Show (not my favorite show by any means…) but she’s interviewing Beyonce (who looks like crap btw). They’re speaking about her new “Single Ladies” video (I can’t respect the song or the video) and Tyra says to her something along the lines of.. “I feel like when you’re pointing at your ring in the video your telling us that you’re happy and all us single ladies should go find our (she points at her ring finger) and find our man and be happy.”

Tyra, (shakes head in shame) you should know better that you don’t need a man (OR husband) to make you happy. It’s annoying that people out there still believe happiness comes with marriage and men.
Ugh. And my co-working is stuck on how Beyonce just doesn’t look like Beyonce AND (mortal sin in her world) she’s not wearing her wedding ring!

P.S. Beyonce, I believe you forgot to put on your undershirt for that suit. Also, I do not care what your breasts look like (no matter how nice), so next time you're on national television--cover the hell up!

I've been horribly moody the last 2 days or so. Poor Stefan. He gets the brunt of my madness.

We have yet to find and purchase a washer/dryer set for our new apartment and we had roughtly 7 loads of laundry to do today. So before dinner I went to the local laundry mat.

On his way back from Thanksgiving with his family he stopped to help me out a little and while we were folding clothes he was dropping them into the laundry basket. This along with practically everything else he was doing was driving me insane so I lipped off to him about not knowing how do shit right...

He got angry and took off. Leaving me with all SEVEN loads of laundry to haul back home myself. TWO of the damn baskets were ready to go home! I'm not so sure I've been that angry in a long time.

We got home and had our little spat, I went out for a drive (what I do best) because that's what my mom did when we were growing up... Oh boy.

Looking back now I'm sure we both could've handled the exchange a little differently, but I'm finding the humor in it now.

Bob Damn hormones.

GAH.

Guess I should inform you a little about the most important aspect of my life.

Her name is Rileigh, she's 14 months old and she's a diva. I don't mean Whitney Houston diva, I mean Mariah Carey diva. If she wants it, she wants it now. If she's fussing she wants help now. If she wants ham and cheese it's black forest ham and gouda cheese and "Why couldn't you get that shit right the first time around?"

She is stubborn as hell. She couldn't look or be more like her father if she tried. Thank Bob I still love the man, otherwise there'd be some serious issues with her attitude.

She has every toy you could possibly imagine and she still prefers to get into the pots and pans and be a royal pain in the ass. Tuesday we locked her in her room and tried to force her to play with her toys and that was wildly unsuccessful. She was in her blankets and diapers and Bob knows what else. I've given up completely and clean up after her as she goes. Which she also finds entertaining.

Mommy Life Lesson #387 You're child will do exactly what you don't want them too, repeatedly, just to watch your ears blow steam and your head explode.

Since I work overnights, I, normally, nap after we lay Rileigh down for bed. It's the best 2 hours of sleep I get considering it's dark outside at this time. Stefan woke me up two nights ago (I went to bed earlier) laughing maniacally. I asked him what was up and why he was naked. Rileigh peed all over him. All over him. From their short (read: 5 feet) trip from her room to the bathroom for her bath.

She does whatever she wants 99% of the time. The 1% she doesn't is filled with diaper changes and nose suckers. There was a period of about 2 months where every single time you took her diaper off, something clicked in her evil little mind and she would pee everywhere. Afterwards she'd look up at you like "Dude, what the hell. As if you're incompetence was bad enough, now you've gone and ruined my new changing table."

She's obsessed with our cell phones, mostly because we are. It's our main form of communication since we never see each other so it's imperative that we have them close by at all times for the random, occasional "I love you" or "I'm horny" text. She'll take our phones and wail like a whistling firework if we take them back. We've already given her another cell phone, even if it's charged, she knows the difference and wants our phones. Brat.

But of all the little things that make me go "ARGH!" There is nothing like her screaching wail that occurs roughly every five minutes from the time she gets home from daycare to the time she falls soundly asleep in her room. I don't understand the appeal.

I love my daughter dearly though. I could tell you absolutely everything about her in 5 minutes flat. My sister finds this endearing because I watch my child as intently as I watch my favorite Soap Opera (Days of Our Lives FYI).

She's got about 15 words in her vocabulary, none of which she uses regularly. We're working on that. She's got the attention span of a dung beatle though so it's hard, but we're pressin' on.

Last night we played in her room for about a half hour between bathtime and bedtime (we have a pretty set routine she enjoys thoroughly) and afterwards we got her a bottle of milk (yes, I said BOTTLE. Her new years resolution is no more bottles) and cuddled while watching a bit of TV (hence the ADHD). She relaxed with me with her legs crossed just like mine and I could feel every tiny move and breath she would take. These are the moments I realize I was made to be her mother.

I took in every tiny aspect of her itty bitty body. Jammies, hair, smell, sound, feel. Everything. She always smells like Cucumber/Green Tea body wash and lotion by Huggies.

As she drifted off to sleep she curled up and snuggled me a little closer and I just died inside because I knew I couldn't hold her while she slept or we'd get off the schedule of her soothing herself to sleep in her crib. My last few moments with her she looked up gave me kisses and put her hand on my chest. My heart stopped. All I could think was "this girl is mine and these moments won't last forever". So I let her fall asleep in my arms, not caring about our rigid schedule or what Dada would think when he wouldn't be able to get her down tomorrow night. I just held my little angel and clung for deal life onto the memories that are fading waaay too quickly.

Or die.

Okay well, maybe not die. But feel like your dying and become inches closer to actually dying than you've ever been in your life.

Wash your freaking hands in Germany.

I can't tell you if that would even be affective or not since they have zero hot water in any bathroom anywhere. I am a firm believer in "if you wash with cold water the germs will not only live but thrive".

And because it was so damn cold the entire time we were there, I sometimes skipped washing my hands all together and instead used antibacterial gel. Which apparently didn't kill enough germs.

I broke out with a 4-day-fever, cankersores throughout my mouth, 4 coldsore covering my lips and tonsils so packed with ulcers I couldn't swallow air without crying.

Bacterial Infection circa 2008. Holy mother of Bob, wash your damn hands in Germany.

I went to my mother, who by familial law, has to check us out before we deam it appropriate to visit a doctor. She was so grossed out she wouldn't come near me and for the next hour chanted, 'Oh my god, you have to come see Kas's mouth.' From the woman who won't touch me with a ten foot pole.

My doctor presribed a steroid shot, "Mary's Magic Mouthwash", a 10-day course of augmentin and bonus a flu shot!

So let this be a warning to you.

You know, it must be freaking nice, not to have anyone else in the world to worry about but yourself.

To be able to sleep and do whatever you wanted whenever you pleased.

It must be nice not to get off of work at 7am and go to bed that day a 6pm (because your boyfriend feels neglected, so he wants a piece) just to wake up at 10pm and start all over.

I love my friends but seriously, you don't need to rub your 12 hours of sleep in my face. I don't need you telling me how strong I am because I can go 4 days with no sleep. I don't need you questioning my sanity or my ability to function. I don't need your amazement.

I need you to babysit!

One of the biggest issues I have in my life right now is that weight is falling off of me, literally. I have lost nearly 60 lbs since I had my daughter last year and 20 of it within the last month.

I apologize to the girls who struggle losing weight and I understand how pithy and annoying I sound, but this is real for me. It's as much of a struggle for me to gain weight and look and be healthy than it is for you to drop those extra pounds.

I've consulted with a Nutrition Specialist that works with our agency and I'm doing a program from My Pyramid. They classified me as underweight and are helping me hinder my metabolism. Weird.

Stefan would seriously like me to see a doctor and I will, if this doesn't pan out for me. I haven't been a size 4 since Jr High. My elbows are thicker than my upper arms. My underwear are too damn big right now. How sick is that. I've got zero energy BUT, I can't sleep. Yay me.

The questions I've gotten on a daily basis since the weight loss:

"Can't beat the anorexia, huh?" (From people I work with, it's just their humor.)
"Are you ill?"
"Who gave you those black eyes." Ha-apparently, I DID.
"You're face is sunken in, have you seen a doctor?"
"Are your hips supposed to stick out like that?" Thanks, Mom.
"Are you depressed? Is everything okay at home?" Nope, but is it ever?

So the general consensus is I'm a basket case. Which is hard to argue. And that being said basket case has led me to being Anorexic.

I'm not like, healthy skinny, I'm a good 20 lbs under my ideal body weight. I'm 5'10" and 117, which makes my ideal body weight fall between 139-173.

I was 150 after my pregnancy and I loved it, I looked healthy my face was filled out my legs and arms were strong, I had energy. Mass amounts of it, in fact. So yeah, I'm probably just making excuses not to see my doctor, when in reality I should've aired my grievances when I went in for the bacterial infection at the beginning of the month.

Just for fun, lets see what WebMD **Creating Hypochondriacs since 2005** has to say!

The results are in!

I have Viral Syndrome, Anemia (the most likely guess as there's family history and I was when I was pregnant) or Hyperthyroidism.. Which is ironic as a good friend and horrid ex both have said disease.

Going to figure out what the hell Viral Syndrome is.. Ciao.

We recently moved to a nearby city much larger than where we were before. My boyfriend is miserable. I have a hard time caring. Which probably isn't doing wonders for our relationship right now. He'll get used to it when he sees the $600/month we're saving in transportation expenses, no?

So anyway, I've just come back from said LittleTown and I'm dumping some things off the dumpster when I see a girl that I don't know walk out of Apt #12. For those of you who don't know, Apt #12 happens to be rented to my family.

I watch her walk down the steps and to her car which belongs to Apt #11 chick. Okay, maybe she's complaining about my child endlessly crying today-perfectly understandable. Maybe she's brought us pie like they do to new neighbors in the movies (oh my Bob, I hope it's Apple!) I'm obviously trying to relax myself.

I unload the belongings from my car and walk up the stairs to great my boyfriend who, thankfully, is fully clothed. I start cleaning up the kitchen and putting away some groceries waiting for him to tell me that "Hey, that neighbor girl came over today to bring us your favorite!! Apple pie!" I get nothing... A half hour goes by and I'm proding him with questions like "Anything exciting happen today?" "How was work?" "Meet anyone new today?" Oh, so casual.. I know.

NOTHING.

I'm getting slightly more pissed so I just downright ask him.

"What'd the neighbor girl come over for?"

"What?"

"The girl next door, I saw her leaving our apartment when I was dumping stuff off at the dumpster."
(Sidebar--You can't see her door from our dumpster and I didn't take my freaking eyes off of her from the moment she left my apartment to the moment she sped off in her car.)

"Um, I've been here for 20 minutes, I made this burrito, I sat on the couch... Nobody has touched that door but you."

"BULLSHIT, I saw her walk out of the house."

I storm off to our room to put away clothes. He follows. Now it's not that I think he would cheat on me, because I know he's faithful. It's that he treated me like I was ridiculous. That I could not have possibly seen that. ARGH. Men.

So we talk about it a little bit longer and he realizes that maybe it could've happened that she saw our door open and shut it or whatever. (We have a faulty door knob). So next time just shut the F up and listen to me, I might have something important to explain.

Granted, I was extremely tired as I hadn't been to bed in 24 hours (ref Job see here ) But, it just wasn't a possibility that she came from her apartment and I know I didn't hallucinate that shit.

Top 5 Reasons Stefan hates our new place.

5. It's an apartment.
4. It's an upstairs apartment.
3. It's in LargeTown not LittleTown.
2. He did the drywall work and it sucks. Because the owners wanted it done yesterday. He can't look at the walls it drives him insane-It's like a cat watching a laser it's hilarious.
1. We can't have our beloved pet Carmen :( But that's affecting me greatly too.