The tale of how alcohol made me miss Christmas dinner

I am not a big drinker. I was a bit of a drunk teenager and spent a great deal of money on alcohol and time drunk while I was seventeen.  And maybe eighteen.  Then I became a poor university student and alcohol was a luxury that I could not afford, so I rarely drank, and then got out of the habit of doing so, save the odd glass of ice wine.

Enter alcohol-infused whipping cream.
Read that line again: alcohol-INFUSED-whipping cream.
It's this aerosol can of whipping cream that has booze already in it.  Ready to go.

Tony's sister brought over a few different alcoholic beverages for our Christmas festivus today, and a can of this whipping-cream.  I had heard about it, but had never seen or tasted it.  So I did what anyone else would do: I squirted a shot directly into my mouth.  And it was good. 16% alcohol good!
I then grabbed a shot glass and filled it with the whipping cream in all its fluffy tastiness.  And then I used my finger to scrape every last smear out of the glass.  WOOT!  That was some good stuff!
I decided to try something a little different for my next drink.  I made myself a spiced rum and eggnog, topped with the whipping cream.  That is a double whammy of taste and alcohol, not to mention calorific.  Although it was light eggnog, so it's all mostly good.
Later in the afternoon, I made myself a glass of punch with vanilla vodka. The vodka had such a light taste that it seemed like I was drinking a virgin drink, so I chased it with more whipping cream.  Directly into the mouth.
My mother-in-law asked if I could make the turkey gravy, which I sort of rock at, so I made the gravy.  And had another shot of whipping cream while whisking.  No biggie.  I then tasted the gravy to see if it was good, and it totally was.  Not to be confused with the quality of the goodness of the whipping cream.  Both good in very different ways.
Then, out of NOWHERE, I got a stomach ache.  Ugh.  I fed iBean her supper, skipped out on mine and crouched in the living room with iBean.  Ugh.  Why was my tummy so mad at me?  What did I do to it??

Oh.  Right.  Alcohol-infused whipping cream.  Like half a canister-full.

Whoops.

My bad.
Or good.  However you choose to look at it.

Penis Pointing Down

We have a housecleaner.  She works as a nanny for a family down the street and she moonlights as a housecleaner.  She usually comes once every two weeks and does a whole once-over of the house.  Sometimes, she even folds our laundry or does our dishes  We LOVE her.

This weekend, she was busy with a community Christmas party and said she would not be able to make it.  I cried a little inside, but then I thought "Suck it up, Princess!  You know how to clean the house!"  I washed the floor in our living area a couple of days ago, and I cleaned the kids' bathroom yesterday: toilet, tub (which is usually pretty clean), floor and sink.  Two tasks: done.

I went into the kids' bathroom this morning to grab a facecloth and smelled PEE. That awful stench of morning urine crustified onto something in the bathroom.  I had just cleaned the toilet yesterday, so I knew that the smell was not coming from within.  I looked around the toilet - dried yellowish stuff all around the base.  EVERYWHERE.  Frick!  So I grabbed a rag and started cleaning. I wiped the entire toilet down and cleaned around the base.  I cleaned off the stool that Keesadilla uses to reach the toilet, and then left the bathroom.

I went back in to use the facilities about 10 minutes later.  STENCH. STILL. THERE.  WTF?!  I cleaned the effing toilet already. And the floor!  So I started sniffing like a bloodhound and saw pee all over the garbage can lid next to the toilet. Double Frick!! Grabbed another rag and wiped down the garbage can, emptied the garbage bag.  Then I lifted the cannister: big puddle of yellow liquid underneath.  FUCKITY FUCK!!  How many places can a kid pee in such a small bathroom?  So I washed the entire garbage cannister and the floor beneath.   Convinced that I had finally solved the pee-problem, I left.

About 20 minutes later, Sashimi had to use the bathroom. He walked in and exclaimed: "MOMMY!  It smells AWFUL in here!"

I ran back in. Sure enough, it still smelled just as rank as before.  Did a skunk pee in here or something?  I cleaned everything! Except the bath mat.  ARGHHHH! Seriously?  I stripped the entire bathroom of every possible towel, facecloth, bath mat, or other garment that may or may not have been peed on.  I turned on the fan.  I washed the entire floor.  Again.

After I emerged from urine-hell, I asked the boys in a nice calm fashion:
"WHO PEED ALL OVER THE FLOOR???  IT IS DISGUSTING IN YOUR BATHROOM!"
Sashimi pointed at Keesadilla: "It was him.  I saw him do it."
Me: And you just let him pee all over the place?
S: Well, I told him to put his penis pointing down, but he didn't listen to me.
Me: Can you please show him HOW to point it down so that we don't have pee all over the place?
S: No, it's too hard, Mommy.

I am done with this. One brother watches as the other brother spackles the bathroom with piss and I am left to clean it all up.  I may as well just put a big effing drain in the floor and have the floor slope towards it.  That'd probably be just as useful as a toilet and much easier to clean.
Or forbid my housecleaner from ever going to a Christmas party agan.
Bah. Humbug. Urine.

All is forgiven

It's no secret that iBean is not a good sleeper. She has her moments, but she still wakes two or three (four or five) times a night.

Last night, she went six hours before waking, which is quite good for her.  I went in and nursed her, then she went back to sleep.

Three hours later, iBean woke up again.  I went in, nursed her, fell asleep in the chair while nursing, then upon waking half an hour later, put her back in her crib.  Only she was not tired.  She was WIDE awake.  At 4:30 am.  Not being one to put up with such shenanigans as waking up at 4:30 am for the day, I left her to squak and talk in her crib while I tried to catch some more z's.

After 30 minutes of quacking, I reluctantly went in when she progressed to full-on crying. I walked into her room, picked her up, and she said "Mama!" for the very first time.

I cuddled and nursed her (again) and smiled in my state of groggy bliss, forgeting all about the fact that she was just being a turd.

Bedtime Cuddles

While cuddling with Keesadilla before bed, he was adjusting the covers and I got a huge whiff of something foul.

Me: Keesadilla, did you fart?
Keesadilla: No.  I think it was you.
Me: Umn, NO.  I didn't fart.  That was you.
Keesadilla: No, I think it was YOU.  I smell you ALL DAY!

No arguing that with.  Although, for the record, that bedtime bomb was NOT me.

Is this really how it's going to be today??

Things that have happened to me today thus far:
1. Keesadilla climbed into the tub with me and peed in my bath.  Then he farted in my face.
2. My screen on my iPod won't rotate when I turn my iPod 90˚.  I've turned it on and off, resynched it. Nothing.  Friggin crappy touch screens.  It's only two weeks old!
3. iBean pooped all over the floor while naked and laying on her tummy.  Then she did a couple of 360s on her tummy. She had poop from knees to nipples.  And now it is all smeared into the carpet in her room.
4. I can't get the frickin Portable North Pole videos that I made for the boys to work.  I have all the required add-ons and plug ins and Java script yadda yadda.  But all I get is a black screen when I click on the URL for their individual videos.  So unless Santa is sitting in a black room using sign language to get his message across, I am pretty sure the videos are not working.
5. It is only 11 am.  FML.
Happy December 1st!