That one time when I tried to breastfeed the dog

I know I keep repeating myself like a toddler these days..."Hey mom, you know what?  Hey mom, you know what?" Yeah, like that.  But seriously, my life feels like a cheesy horror flick and i'm the main character that just wont die off (but without the bonus of having oversized, perky breasts).  So once again, I find myself apologizing for not being around much to blog.

I'm exhausted.  I mean ex....haus....ted.   I've been going to bed earlier than I ever have in my life thanks to Olive waking me up at the butt crack of dawn, but i'm still dog ass tired in the morning.  And I even look and probably smell like a dog too because I can't even remember the last time I washed my hair, shaved my legs (or other parts), or put on make up, or wore clothes that didn't have remnants of last night's dinner.  Yep, i'm a sexy bitch all right.

I'm so exhausted that the other day I was sitting on the couch like a zombie, when Olive jumped up on the couch next to me. I instinctively lifted up my shirt to offer her boobs (habit from breastfeeding Peanut for so dang long).  She looked at me all confused and for a split second I was thinking, "Sweet, maybe she's finally ready to wean" and that's when it hit me that I was trying to breastfeed my dog.  That's gotta be cuttin it dangerously close to rock bottom, you think?

Is this chick serious?

*Pic borrowed from Google

On Wednesday (known as my hell day because Weds are half days in our district and they are crazy), I made it to the evening where the only thing I had left to do was take Bo's to soccer practice. Okay, I could handle that, so I thought.  I got her ready to go which is always a nightmare because she's super slow to do anything and therefore she's perpetually late to everything (like my husband).  We made it to the school and found her team (which happened to be playing in the far field so by the time I made it there I sounded like an 80 year old with emphysema because i'm fat and out of shape).

I noticed right away that all of the girls were dressed in their game jerseys, black shorts, hair pulled back, etc. My daughter was wearing a pink tank top with an ice cream cone on it.  I walked up to another parent and asked, "Do they have team pictures or something?"  He looked at me like I was a moron and said, "Um, no, they have a game."  And it started in 15 min! Awesome!  So, I ran back across the field towards my minivan and I called my husband to tell him they had a game (while I was attempting to run). I was panting heavily because I don't run, not even if you hold out a giant tray of donuts to tempt me (well, okay, maybe I would run for donuts).  He automatically assumed I had gotten mugged.  Out of breath wife, apparently means muggage.  I drove home, dug through the dirty laundry for the game jersey, got back into my van and raced back to the game.  Luckily I got there in time but I was sweating like a pig and completely out of breath.  I threw my mother f#@king fold out chair on the ground (while it was still in the bag) to catch my breath and it landed on my foot, nearly slicing off a toe.  I had to act tough while inside I was screaming, "Son of a f#@king monkey loving b$#ch!!!!!"

I'm not sure how this weekend could possibly top the week I had, but i'm already on a roll. I got woken up at 5 am by Olive trying to chew my hair right off my scalp and my period showed up as well. Did I mention we have an extra soccer practice tonight and an 8:30 am game on Saturday?

Cat pee cleats

I swear these things only happen at our house and after last night I have to seriously wonder if we're on Candid Camera. The hubby and I were trying to watch TV in the family room, but we were literally gagging on the smell of ammonia.  It smelled like a herd of cats escaped from the crazy, hoarder neighbors next door and marked their territory all over our front room.   Here's the problem though….we don't have a cat!

My husband was convinced that the kids must've let a stray cat into our house while we weren't looking (with our kids I suppose that's slightly possible), and it immediately ran around the front room pissing all over everything to mark their territory, and then the kids snuck it back outside before we discovered it (not very likely if you ask me).

I'll admit I too was intrigued as to why we were gagging on cat pee fumes when we don't even own a cat.  The previous owners of our house did have cats, but we've lived here a while and haven't smelled cat pee except for occasional faint whiffs here or there.  However, this smell was like someone was holding your face down in a bucket of cat urine.  It was up your nostrils, throat burning, I think i'm going to barf because I can taste cat pee on my tongue kind of a smell.  I was sick to my stomach and didn't feel good. My head hurt, the room was spinning a little and my hubby and I were literally on our hands and knees crawling around on the ground smelling everything.  I'll admit….I even smelled myself a couple of times. Hey, it's a stretch, but I was desperate to find the source.

On the ground next to the front door sat two pairs of dirty, gross, soccer cleats.  On Monday, the girls had practice in the pouring rain.  The cleats were wet, and muddy, but we figured they would dry off.  What we didn't realize, is they were also covered in cat pee from the field (I didn't realize soccer fields also doubled as a toilet for the neighborhood cats).  My hubby stuck his nose into my 13 y/o daughter's cleat, and literally jumped about 3 feet back.  Then he yelled out, "OH MY GOD. I found the smell."   I don't know why I couldn't just take his word for it, but of course I had to stick my nose into the cleat as well.  I damn near vomited. It was bad.

I have washed these stupid cleats 3 times now.  I've hosed them down with vinegar, detergent, soap, etc. They still freaking stink!  Even the neighborhood squirrels cleared the yard when I set those puppies out on the back patio last night.  So now the big question is, do I buy new cleats even though soccer season is over in a couple of weeks, or do I hold my breath and tell my girls to suck it up and put on their cat pee cleats?   This is reason number 10, 451 as to why i'm not a soccer mom.  Cat pee cleats! Seriously?!