A Second Chance

I wasn't sure what to expect on my first day back at work after a month of leave.
Personally, I so very much missed working.
I missed my co-workers and feeling like my time was worth something to others.
I missed that fulfillment.

I was so nervous as I pulled into the parking lot as if it was my first day on the job.
Then, much to my surprise, I was welcomed with ope arms and happiness at my return.
My desk felt like home and the smiles and jokes rolled just as fast as the work we were all completing.
I realized just how much I love this job, the pressure, and the endless learning curve. I love people.

When I got home from work I was so happy that I made chicken spinach enchiladas and Amish egg bread...


The house feels warm and inviting, despite the rain, and our dwindling bank account.
Oliver and I snuggled on the couch and read "Pigs in Hiding" as the smell of baking bread drifted from the warm kitchen over to our corner couch.

After our nightly bedtime routine (which felt amazing to fall back into) I heard the key open the front door and D arrived with a HUGE bouquet of wildflowers (for those of you that know D this is kinda a biiiig deal).


Even better, he brought along some cheese to smush between the hot, delicious bread.

What a perfect end to the day.
I am so thankful.
So very thankful for being blessed with a demanding, intense, but incredibly sustaining and inspiring job.


k8 is back!

Bad Mommy Day

This week didn't play out as expected and it is only Tuesday.
There are issues at work that I don't think I should air but let's just say "high stress".
Added to this I am facing lab results tomorrow at 7am that are gonna be bad either way.
As in, if they find something it isn't gonna be good and if they don't find anything I am back to square one as to what is wrong with me.
lose. lose.
Shall we add onto that the bad parenting vibe hanging over my head.
Several people have suggested that the reason that my Monster isn't potty training is because since I am a working Mom I am not there enough to develop consistency.
There is nothing worse than a) stress at work b) medical issues c) dwelling on being a bad mom.

Today, I dropped Little O off at Nanny's in the dark. Knowing that the day was going to suck, focusing on the fact that it would be pitch dark when I picked him up, and then had 100 things to do between pick up and bed time. I made it 4 blocks from work (about an hour drive) before I slammed on the breaks.
Full blown panic attack.
Too much.
Too much on my shoulders.
I called my bosses boss and was honest.
I. need. a. day.
I am overwhelmed, stressed, and a terrible Mom.
I am not happy. I can't stop crying. I'd be non-productive for 99% of the work day.
Went back to Nanny.
Watched K and O innocently run around playing and jumping and hugging and giggling and tried oh, so hard to remember what it feels like to not have so many responsibilities and so much pressure. I watched the two of them and thought about Max and I as children.
All I wanted to do was grow up.
I wanted to wear heels.
(the ones that now make my feet ache)
I wanted make-up and straight hair.
(both of which now take more time than I care to think about).
I wanted my own life.
(the one that now costs me my sanity and a large mortgage).

So, to all you youngin's out there...

Listen to this "just past youngin"...
Enjoy each and every moment that your Momma wraps you into her arms and says it's gonna be ok and gives you back scritches.
When your Dad dons a Mr. Nose it All costume and tells you stories?
Make sure to giggle extra loud.
On Christmas Eve when your little brother wants to climb up to the top bunk and listen to the oldies station with you while you wait for Santa....
Say yes.

You won't regret it.

How to Make Your Monster Eat a Carrot.

Welcome to yet another non-wedding blog.

Also, welcome to the never ending drama of trying to get my 3yo Monster to eat something other than chicken nuggets, croutons, and fruit snacks.
Oh my! Let's not forget the amazingly healthy "op-corn" that he so loves.

My Monster is a mover. The kid NEVER (even pre-walking) liked to sit in the high-chair.
I find this ironic because D spent a solid week rebuilding my childhood high chair.
Little O likes to eat things that he can carry with him and subsequently discard in a) my high heels, the seams of the couch, and all over the coffee table.
Casondra and D are both cringing at the thought of this.

Side note: he now knows how to open the freezer. So far today I have discovered half a piece of bread, a ritz cracker, and two carrots. Does he think I won't figure out that he doesn't want to eat them? Ah yes, this takes me back to a young and almost sweet, little adorable K8 who thought that by taking her glass of milk into the bathroom with her and dumping it down the drain would trick her parents into thinking that she did drink it. Little K8's fatal flaw...she forgot to rinse out the sink.

Just the way I sneak fruit into his milk/yogurt smoothies I have discovered that you can put just about anything into muffin form and my Monster will eat it.

Here is my latest edition of hidden healthier than processed frozen chicken nuggets muffins:

Start with 1 c. oatmeal (yeah! see? healthy!)...
Also, please notice two new wedding gift in the background.
OOOOh! Yeaaah!

Next up pour yourself 1 c. of buttermilk.
Personally, I NEVER have buttermilk in stock because er, I hate to bake.
So... I make my own. Simply dump about 1T. lemon juice into 1c. milk, let sit for about 2 minutes, stir, and voila!
buttermilk (kinda).

Following this step I was told several times that "my name is da mommy/ so what's your name/my name is Oldiber/That's right"!
(It scares me how much he imitates me at this age. If he starts shaving his legs then I know we're in trouble).
I headed to the fridge for some fresh eggies and whipped them vigourously while listening to the Monster sing "Mommies got da eggies/sgusting".
Clearly, he hates eggies.
Also, notice new whisk wedding gift!

Now into that 1 c. of oats that are super healthy and make my Monster grow strong, tall, and smart, and rich, and handsome (shall I keep going?)...
add your 1 c. of buttermilk and let that sit for 5 minutes.

A mommie can do a heck of a lot in 5 minutes...

take out the trash.
open a wedding gift... (spatulas!)
pick up Barbies high heels, Little Mermaids hair brush, and 945349673 "tato" head parts.
decorate the front porch with some more pumpkins.
download a new cheesey country song.
answer the question "what's that?" 495793485646 million times.

Head back into the kitchen for the "mommies a-cookin-yeeeeah!".
Combine 1 c. flour ( I used wheat for further healthiness), 1 1/2t. baking powder, 1 t. baking soda,
a TON of cinnamon, a touch of allspice, and pinch of nutmeg.
Have fun with the spices. I dare ya.

Here is what your soakin oats should look like about now...
NIIIICE and mushy.
Sounds delish, no?
I had to let mine soak a little longer than 5 minutes due to a...um...scenario involving a "butter-jessie sammie" and some long blonde hair.
grrrr....
Pretty sure the Monster more than forgot where his mouth was last located.



Now plop in 1/3c. brown sugar (packed).
Listen to the Monster sing "Under-da-seeeea" while going "swimmin with da ariel/crab/fwonder". I dare you NOT to laugh as you scrub jelly out of blonde hair.




Add the whisked eggs into the sugar/flour/oat/buttermilk combo.
Make sure to do this quickily because you left a naked Monster running around in guest room.
For anyone with boys you know this scenario could go very terribly at any moment.




This is my favorite part because:
a) I nearly bleed to death trying to shred leftover baby carrots (remember D hates carrots and a girl can only eat so many).
b) I snuck several carrots into the Monster Muffins!
Oh yes, super Mom is kitchen dancing at her geniuosity.



I used some super cute muffin cups (because I am a dork and I luuuurve fall).
I always spray them lightly as it seems to really help.
Just a random tip.
At this point I realize that D will be home soon and I haven't even started dinner.
ugh and double merde.
My lazy go-to recipe:
stir fried rice.
perfecto!


Fill the adult muffin cups.
Fill the Monster muffin cups.
Lick the spoon and the bowl (hey, no one was home to witness me eating raw eggs and let us not forget that I have been eating cookies dough since I can remember).
Don't lie, it IS the BEST part of baking.

I told you the muffin cups were cute...

Wait about 15 minutes (8 for the mini's).
I suggest you do dishes or have a cold beer.
Remove Monster Muffins from the oven.
Curse the Texas heat for making your house a massive oven and vow to never use the oven again.
Try to explain to the Monster that the "cookies" are hot and that he has to wait a second.
Remind self that 3yo Monster has no idea what a second is.
Put two into the freezer so that the Monster will actually eat your creation.

Give the oddest eater alive 2 frozen Monster Muffins, collapse on couch and giggle as he shoves one entire muffin into that mouth and proclaims... "dewishious/nother one".
Now clean up all the crumbs he just sprayed all over.

You'd think I hate being a Mommy but not at all. I adore every single, stinking second (and trust me sometimes it really stinks...like literally).

A Long Talk and Monsters

A friend and I were talking today about how strongly being a mother changes how you view the world and how greatly annoying it is to other people. Not because we are annoying and talk about our Monsters/Munchkins/Squids/Princesses all the time (cause gee, we don't do that). But, more so because our focus is shifted. So, as our conversation in regards to being a mommy continued we came up with 7 Questions to make us laugh at how ridiculous being a parent can be...

1) The One Thing My Mom Did That I SWORE I'd Never Do:

Doesn't every parent have this? I swore I wouldn't have too high expectations.
hahahahahahahahaha.
My parents were very tough on me and I often felt that I wouldn't be accepted if I failed. Silly? Yes. but in the eyes, ears, and brain of a small child it is simply what I thought. It has most certainly become a strong part of my personality and probably why I chose social work as a career. The need to please at any cost is something I hope I don't make the Monster feel but I often catch myself assuming and expecting actions from the Monster that he isn't old enough to even understand.
BTW, I have already enrolled my Monster into Harvard, signed him with the NFL, and bought him a suit to wear when he wins a Pulitzer.

2) The Most Ridiculous Thing I've Ever Heard Myself Say:

I caught myself once explaining to the Monster that the cucumber we were purchasing wasn't literally Larry the Cucumber.

Monster: "I see warry!"
Me: "No, pumpkin we aren't eating Larry. This is a veggie".
Monster: "A beggie tale"?
Me: "Well, it's the kind of cucumber we can eat."
Monster: "Mommmmy, STOP EATING OUT WARRY!!!!!".
Me: "Great, someone just call Child Protective Services on me now."

3) The Earliest We've Ever Been Awoken By Our Lovely Monsters:

When my Monster was about 10 months he had a few episodes of night terrors. Sadly, once you shake them awake after the terror screaming they seem to think that it is play time.
I was a single Mom, alone in an apartment in a REALLY bad part of town, and it was 3am. We were out of juice (cause I was THAT broke), had to leave the house for the babysitters at 5:30am so I could be at work by 7:00. So guess what we did?
We drank water mixed with cocoa powder (hey, it's all I had) and played blocks. I can wager a pretty good bet that even in my most drunken college night I have never done that at 3am and had fun.
Let's not remember how tired I was at work that day. Haha!

4) When I Need a Time Out I:

a) cook something
b) take a nap when the Monster naps
c) take the Monster to the park so he can torment other children rather than Mommy
d) if it is Saturday or Sunday I sometimes ask D to watch the Monster so I can go read and have a margarita at this awesome Mexican restaurant in town called Ramos.

5) I've Never Been More Embarrassed Than When My Child:

Screamed complete and total bloody murder through all of Walmart as if I was sawing his arm off. Everyone in Walmart was very kind but then I got to be extra humiliated when A) I couldn't lift him out of the cart (he weighs about half of what I weigh and I'm a big wimp) and had to ask a guy for help. B) The Monster replies to the very kind man by hitting him and saying... "fuck it. damnit".
I wanted to die.

6) I Always Love When My Monster Says:

a) awe...hugs mommy.
b) mwah!
d) nigh nigh mommy. I wub you.
e) awe mommy! I fwound you!

7) The Best Time of Day With My Monster is:

a) the time between when Nanny leaves and D gets home
b) Cuddling at night with super hero, buzz, woody, jorge, bankie, pwincess, and several race cars.
c) when he kisses my shoulder ever morning and says "wake to the up mommy. good morning".

Missed the Memo

Did I miss the memo?
Is it make Kate feel like scum day?
It kinda feels like that.

For starters, I have no cell phone which a) is a HUGE asset to my job b) is my lifeline to my lifeline (my mom) and the reason that I often don't have a spaz attack. c) is how I know that while I am at work my Monster has not broken a limb, eaten a nail, or traumitized small woodland creatures. No phone = stressed Mommy.

Secondly, an ex-babysitter is starting, or trying to start, some serious drama over...er...pretty much nothing. I'll go into this more once the issue is resolved because I think many of you working Moms will appreciate the lesson I have learned in future post on "how to choose stellar/non-trashy childcare".

Lastly, I am so exhausted between work and wedding and Mommy-ing and almost-wife-ing, and homemaker-ing. I cannot even describe to you my level of exhaustion. I actually parked my truck at work this morning and fell asleep.
in the car.
in the parking lot.
with my seat belt on.
Luckily someone locked their car and the beep reminded me that I was not, in fact, cozy in my bed but needed to go talk to people about sex.
good times.

I hope I don't sound like a whiny little girl because I DO love my job and once I get to my office and the mayhem starts I am good to go. It is honestly as if a flip switches and I get an energy boost simply off being in the eye of the storm. I love what I do and am proud of how hard myself and my coworkers work. In the end though, I am stupendously exhausted, not sleepy tired at the end of the day, but literally drained.


So, I decided to make chicken alfredo calzones with sundried tomatoes and olives.
Because K8 cooks when stressed.

I ran upon an issue today that has hurt several people and for that I apologize.
Apparently, there are still a few folks out there that are not aware that I was a horrid cheating wife and am now a horrid, cheating ex-wife with an illegitimate child. I am not proud of it but I am also not ashamed. I was given the Monster and I am thankful for the lessons learned. I have more than paid my dues and I apologize to anyone and everyone that I have hurt.
If you want clarification, the whole story, or are just nosy (I would be) I am willing to explain.
Just email me: k861084@gmail.com

So, this was pretty much a whiny, annoying post and I'm sorry.
I don't tend to enjoy whiny, annoying people.
Shall we call them WAPs?
Yes, today I was a WAP but I shall not be a WAP tomorrow.
I invited Kunckle Matt, JESSIE! (The Monster always says her name with an exclamation point as if he just won the lottery. I guess she is, just that cool), and baby Jack over for dinner as well as the Daisy Dog. The Monster simply refers to our friends, Brin and Skyler as the "Daisy Dog" as if they are only identified by their puppy. hehehe.
Oh and Jamie, if you read this...bring your clan too! There is always room for more and we miss you. Ok, The Monster only misses Ash and Ash's Buzz Lightyear. hehe!
I hope and evening with friends and a rolly polly baby will lift this cloud of icky that seems to be following me today.

Working Mommy

I realized today as I stood in the lab talking to the Lab Gang that I only ever stop to talk to them if a) I need lab reports/results/help/chocolate from their secret stash or b) to talk about Little O.

This got me thinking. (A dangerous past time, I know)

How annoying is it to work with a Mom that thinks (and therefore talks) about her child all the time? I am sure not ALL Mom's have this affliction but many of us do. Most likely the cause of thinking about our children constantly. Then I began to wonder if Dad's do the same? Do they?
I know D doesn't but then he doesn't talk at all ever. So that doesn't count.

Where is the line of appropriate kidage in the office?
I am sure I have crossed it.
I hope I have kept the level of annoying to a minimum.

Throughout the writing of this blog the following things have occurred:

The Monster have turned the ceiling fan to level 4: hurricane force strength high 7 times.
He has brought me 4 forks for "da eating".
I have diced and marinated 2 massive freezer ziploc bags of veggies for camping this weekend.
I have had one glass of wine.
The Monster found a cracker underneath my desk that is likely about 2 months old. ate it.
I talked to 3 clients and never mentioned being a Mom.
The Monster opened the fridge and ate ketchup.
I poked myself in the eye with mascara.
I ate some really good cheddar cheese.
The Monster told me "fing one is icky" (read: I threw thing one (the name of two matching toys we have) into the pool and then into the dirt and now I want it cleaned).

"Oh Momma...stop twalking bout me all da twime...."

The Working Mommy

It is 1:58pm on a Tuesday.
Correction: 1:58 pm on a sweltering, traffic infested, busy Tuesday.

Why then, you might ask, am I sitting talking to ya'll in the dark, quietness that is my house?
Why, you'd continue, are you not at work?
Why are you washing yet another batch of puke covered linens?
And lastly, why are you taking precious sick leave when ya ain't sick?
For a bunch of Moms, Dads, Adults, and College Graduates you sure ask a lot of dumb questions.

Clearly, I have a projectile vomiting, flushed, lethargic, miserable Little Monster.
My Monster has lost his roar and there is no "go to da moon, rocketship fly" happening today.

I tried to go into work this morning despite the exhaustion (the vomiting started at 1am (naturally) because my caseload is serious need of attention. While I did manage to have a productive morning me coming home does two things 1) it leaves one of my favorite and lovely co-workers all alone to handle the masses this afternoon and 2) I get no case-work done- ugh. This, in turn, will most likely lead to me having to go into work on Saturday and risk setting off the alarm system. Followed by a lovely chat with some Officers.

Anyway, that is not the point of this story. My point here is that being a working Mom has many, many perks. Per Exampleee (that's French for For Example)...

The Monster giving me "kwisses" (he puts out his cheek)...

Independence. There is something very freeing about leaving the house in a suit and heels and not thinking about time-outs and diapers. When that pay check comes I never feel guilty about spending my partners money on those cute shoes for Little O or an expensive glass of wine. Obviously, I wouldn't buy a house or a car or a rocket ship to the moon without consulting D but I take a great deal of pride in the fact that it's my hard earned money. And sorry to point out the obvious but most marriages these days fail and I like the sense of security in that if someday down the road (god forbid) D and I can't make, I have a SOLID work history, tons of experience, and the ability to provide for myself and my Monster. I suppose I am somewhat jaded by my time at Child Protective Services. I can't even begin to tell you the number of child support hearings I've heard, the number of Mom's that had to move in with Grandparents, slept in cars, haven't held a job in 10 years so have no skills, and end up on welfare or go back to school for a low-paying 2 yr. program. The burden of child-rearing, despite all our talk about equal parental rights, still generally falls on the Mom. I've seen the welfare line. For every 30 mothers there is 1 father. So, I vowed to myself, that as much as I'd kill to spend every moment with Little O and home-school I know that in order to feel independent, secure, and the best provider that I can to Little O and my family is to work hard for the money.

Self-Confidence. I am respected in my career and feel a sense of self worth and contribution. Please, all you SAHM's don't take this wrong, but personally, I felt useless to the world when I was home with Little O all day. What was I contributing to society other than garbage bags of dirty diapers and empty juice cups? Whenever I have a great day at work, a good conversation with a client, praise from a co-worker or boss, a presentation that is successful I feel that I have some how, some way made someones life just a little bit better. As you know, when you help others you help yourself (I have this stitched on a pillow somewhere I think).

Lastly, and a tad corny me thinks, it is FREAKING AWESOME to do the following activites:

a) eat lunch without a 2yo. in a restaurant. with a book. ALONE.
b) it's fun to stop for a quick margarita happy hour with co-workers (even if you are dying to see that Monster.
c)I get to hear "MOMMIES HOMIES" and get "tackle hugged" every day.
d) I DON'T have to watch Despicable Me, Horton, Toy Story, Cinderella, or Monsters Inc. for at least 10 hours a day.
e) I can turn the volume on the radio up REALLY loud and sing without destroying my Monsters hearing.
f) I can stop at the grocery for milk, eggs, and bread (and maybe oreos) without a 2yo. Can you say 10 minutes rather than 9574367538 minutes?

But for every up there is a down...

Five seconds later: Mommy said "time to go homies". MELTDOWN.

As mentioned, I miss him. All day. I really do. I wonder what dish he has broken, what step he has cracked his skull on, what wall will need to be washed, and what his sweet sleeping face looks like at nap time.

Added to that, all this time missing him, worrying, thinking, and imagining his day changes my priorites. Being a working mom takes double the focus. I can't ever stay late and sometimes get panicey when it is 5:30, I'm still with a client, and I have an hour commute home. So, today when I started getting Nanny texts I began to loose focus. I wrote case notes in the wrong case, called the wrong PCP, stapled my finger to the paper, and dumped my iced tea all over my notepad. So, now my stress is up and I'm biting my lip. Do I stay? Do I go? Do, I use my precious sick leave? Am I bad Mom? I am having a really bad hair day? and now I have a headache.
See the down side there?

There is also the problem that Mom's tend to talk ALL THE TIME about the latest cute thing that there Monster has done. I am sure that my lovely co-workers have wanted to tape my mouth shut on many occasion. This is why I bring donuts, cookies, and a variety of treats into the office on a regular basis. Yes, I black mail my co-workers with food to keep them from killing me.

Then there is the issue, especially when it comes to being a single mom, that I'm all the Monster's got and that a lot of the time means inpromput and unplanned days off and crisis. I personally, don't have family anyway remotely near 3 Forks Ranch so Nanny is sick (me too), Nanny kiddo sick (me too), Monster sick (me too), Nanny out of diapers/milk/snasckies (me going to store). You get the idea.


So on days like today, and most other days, the good and the bad, the frustrating and the joy, and the laughter and the tears all seem to even themselves out. The Monster is sleeping thanks to some tylenol. My heart is at ease knowing I am just downstairs while he heals and rests. There is a storm rolling in (the first we've seen in months). So, I leave you all to enjoy an afternoon glass of chilled white in my rocker on the front porch of 3 Forks Ranch.