i'm really not that busy

New blog site

2009-08-18T16:50:00.005-05:00

To get to my new blog go to http://jlakec.wordpress.com (or click here & bookmark it).

I was able to import all the posts and comments from this blog. I'm still working on the format and sidebar items.

The biggest change is that I'm discontinuing the nicknames. I'm outing by name in two days unless you speak up before then.

Crap, I have to go make dinner now.

I'm moving

2009-08-18T16:28:00.002-05:00

The blog that is. I'm switching to Wordpress. It will take me a few days of messing around to get it up. I'm not tech savvy . The title will still be "I'm really not that busy." I may post a few more things here before I'm ready to make the move. Just stay tuned.

The most annoying toy EVER

2009-08-18T14:43:00.002-05:00

Most mom's would pin that title on a different item. Like maybe one of those V-Tech toys that periodically talk even when no one is the room (or has touched the toy for three days). Or possibly a board game like Mousetrap that looks cool and then ends up leaving your kid in tears because it's hard to put together, doesn't really work, and you end up screaming a profanity and throwing it in the trash putting it away for "when you're a little older." Other mom's might choose video games that turn your kids into screen zombies for hours at a time (I rather like those). Not me. This punching ball's days are numbered.

This ball has caused no less that three screaming fits - all Worm because it's Huck's toy and Huck doesn't like to share it. Two near heart attacks - I startle easy and Huck likes to carry it into a room & suddenly start punching it. One bonked head - Worm likes to grab it and run from Huck, but he can't really see around it. And one pre-syncopic episode - it's hard to air up.

Green punch ball, I'm coming for you. Now I'm doing the thing where you point to your eyes and then at the thing you are coming for.

But it's true!

2009-08-17T20:18:00.002-05:00

Today was Huck's back-to-school ice cream social. I spent a few minutes speaking with his new teacher. She's new to him and new to teaching, so all kinds of newness happening. Later, Truck and I were discussing our impressions of her. I mentioned she was really lucky to get him in her first class. He said, "I know, you actually said that to her and I was kind of embarrassed."

What?

No really... what?

It's not bragging when it's true. Seriously, ask Miss J., she'll back me up.

I mean, if I can't be immodest about my kids, what's left? I'm over 35 so mini skirts are out. I don't have a job, so professional accomplishments are out. None of you are commenting on my recent organizational feats, so that's out.

Let me live vicariously through my kids. Apparently it's all I have left.

Laundry Room: Check

2009-08-16T10:46:00.002-05:00

Here's the rub

2009-08-16T07:49:00.004-05:00

So where did the overflow crap from the pantry & "catch-all area" land? The laundry room. Guess what I'm doing today?

*sigh*

New sidebar item

2009-08-15T21:23:00.001-05:00

I'm adding a list of blogs written by people I actually know. If you have ever met me and you write a blog, please tell me about it. I will read it and comment on it and put a link on my site.

I'm really not that OCD

2009-08-15T14:31:00.007-05:00

Next to the spiffy pantry, the catch-all area by the phone started to look worse than usual. I'm not usually into cooking, cleaning or organizing. I like a clean house, but I pay Jazmin and Maricela for that. I like good food, but I consider take-out Thai good food. And my feelings about junk have always been, "If it's behind a closed door, it doesn't exist." Do you think Truck is whispering subliminal messages in my ear at night? "You love to clean." "Baking is fun." "Messy cabinets are the devil's playground."

On a roll

2009-08-15T10:26:00.001-05:00

The pie is gone.

I made flourless peanut butter cookies.

Yum.

The whitest boy in America

2009-08-14T16:32:00.002-05:00

Worm is obsessed with the song Boom Boom Pow (Yes, I know the lyrics aren't the cleanest. I also let them watch cartoons that say the word stupid and sometimes drink juice that is not diluted with water. I'm a rebel). Every time we get in the car he demands to hear it and then we end up listening to it on repeat for twenty minutes. While it's infinitely better than kiddie music, it's starting to grate my nerves a bit. I know I could just refuse to turn it on, but twenty minutes of continually escalating shrieks is the alternative.

This morning we were driving Huck to his clay class, listening to the usual, when Huck asks a question.

Huck: "Mama, they're saying 'Let the beat rock', right?"

Me: "Yes"

Huck: "Do they mean beat or beet."

Me: I'm unable to speak due to uncontrollable laughter.

Huck: "It's not funny. I don't mean pickled beets or anything, just regular beets."

Me: Laughing harder and trying to cross my legs while driving so as not to pee myself.

Huck: *sigh* "You missed the turn."

Stirring the pot

2009-08-13T22:15:00.003-05:00

Huck started soccer today. He is terrible. He also read a book to me today and did not stumble over any words, including: unnecessary, ridiculous and embarrassing. Basically he is mini me.

Worm refused to wear anything but a diaper and high heels until 9 a.m. He also insisted on a "cold faffle" for breakfast (Eggo waffle right out of the freezer). Later he freaked out because I wouldn't let him eat a tube of Burt's Bees lip balm. I'm thinking this is the Collins genes at work.

Jo? Truck? Comments?

My life: According to Dead Milkmen

2009-08-12T16:51:00.002-05:00

I saw this quiz on facebook. You're supposed to choose a group or artist that has a lot of meaning for you. That felt too sappy for me, so I went for pure fun!

This is my life according to song titles by Dead Milkmen (runner up answers in parenthesis because it was hard to pick).

Are you male or female? Punk Rock Girl (Gorilla Girl)

Describe yourself. I Walk the Thinnest Line (I'm Going to Purgatory)

How Do You Feel? Take me to the Specialist (Two Feet off the Ground)

Where do you live? Tacoland (Tiny Town)

Where do you want to go? Where the Tarantula Lives (Beach Party)

Favorite form of transportation. Bitchin' Camaro (Nitro Burning Funny Cars)

Your best friend is... The Girl with the Strong Arm (God's Kid Brother)

What is life to you? Epic Tales of Adventure (Life is Shit)

You Fear... Takin' Retards to the Zoo (Big Scary Place)

What is the best advice? If You Love Somebody, Set the on Fire (Nutrition)

How Would You Like To Die? I Tripped Over the Ottoman (Surfin' Cow)

My Motto... Don't Deny Yout Inner Child (I Don't Wanna I Don't Wanna)

You may now worship me for the domestic goddess I am

2009-08-12T12:51:00.006-05:00

Before

After

Not only did I redo the pantry, I also scrubbed the indoor trash can, hosed out the outdoor trash can (which smelled of vomit) and baked a lemon meringue pie. Plus I did it all in high heels, a crinoline, and red lipstick. Okay strike that last part, but still!

The pantry is irgnized now

2009-08-12T12:04:00.003-05:00

I was going to edit that texted post, but I think the word irgnization rocks and will now add it to my vocabulary. Before and after pics of the irgnized pantry coming up shortly...

2009-08-12T09:51:00.001-05:00

This is a text post, so sorry for any spelling/grammar/ general readability issues. I'm at Sonic right now treating myself to a gigantic drink.I'm going home to clean out the pantry. It's a huge pantry! Hopefully the lethal amount of caffine I'm consuming will get me through it. Jo just cleaned out her closet so I felt the need to one-up her with my superior irgnization skills. Not really. My drink's here. Bye!

The cat

2009-08-11T12:51:00.005-05:00

So we have this cat. She's pretty much like every other cat on the planet. She sleeps 22 hours a day. She acts as if she's starving if her food dish isn't filled to the brim. She horks up a nasty little hairy alien every few weeks. She stops in front of me when I am carrying large objects in an effort to trip me. She sleeps in the sink. She thinks paper bags are cool.

Every cat on the planet does this shit. If you think your cat is unique because of these things or anything similar, you are mistaken. Your cat isn't special unless it can play Chopin on the harpsichord.

What makes our cat unique is that she also poops anywhere BUT her litter box; and only when we aren't looking. This means she craps all over the house at night. We got so tired of playing find-the-cat-poo every morning that we started making her sleep in the laundry room. Now she craps all over the dryer. I fold the laundry in my bedroom.

This is the first 20 minutes of my life pretty much every day

Pee

Wash hands

Start water boiling for coffee

Make Huck's Nexium

Grab paper towels and head to laundry room

Pick-up cat poo

Flush cat poo

Wash hands

Stir freshly ground coffee into boiled water

Disinfect top of the dryer

Give cat fresh food and water

Wash hands (disinfectant + cat food, not my scent combo of choice)

Take Nexium to Huck

Get lots of hugs and and earful of chatter (Huck is a morning person)

Push plunger down on coffee

Drink coffee

I seriously have to wash my hands three times before I even get to drink coffee and I'm not even a germaphobe. Anybody want a cat?

This post sucks

2009-08-06T09:44:00.007-05:00

Disclaimer:

I am trying to overcome writers block by just writing whatever I can and hope that it will jar something loose. This post sucks. Don't read it.

I can't think of anything to write. I decided to just start typing to see if something will turn up. Turnip. Rutabaga. Spinach. Okay, writing whatever pops into my head is stupid....

Wow, I really suck at this free form writing thing. All I can think to write about is how I have nothing to write about.

Worm is watching Little Bear on the TV in my bedroom. Normally it is the sort of thing I can tune out. However, on this episode there is a chicken "singing" and it is incredibly annoying. Now Worm is screaming, "I hold card!" I just renewed my car tags online, so my debit card is on the side table. Worm made a beeline for it, so I had to snatch it up before it ends up at the bottom of the toy box with the Cheez-it crumbs and sticky Happy Meal toys. The stupid chicken is still singing. Now it's opera. I might need to take some Xanax to make it through this episode.

Mel and Huck are going through the house counting things.

Windows: They say 12, I say 11 because they counted the sliding glass door as a window and a door. Potato, Potahto

Exterior doors: 3

Interior doors including closets: 14

Drawers: 58

Cabinets: 34

Places to sit: 14 (We don't entertain much)

Mirrors: 7

Framed photos: 12

Paintings/Pictures that aren't photos: 19 (Some mom I am, more paintings than photos of the kids)

They're still counting, but I've stopped listening to the outcome. Damn singing chicken. Please make it stop. So now I'm wondering how I can have so many cabinets and drawers and still have nowhere to put anything. I should stop this stupid free form thing and go clean out some crap. With that many drawers I should have a few empty ones!

Had to stop for a minute. Worm rode his trike into the bedroom and then fell off. I have a strict no toys in the bedroom policy, so as soon as the tears are dry he's going to have to ride it back out.

I ended up taking the trike out myself, but I told him what I was doing and why. He'll get there eventually. It's a process.

Holy crap this is the most boring thing I have ever done.

Worm wants me to bite his feet now. Weirdo.

Okay, this was unproductive. We are going to lunch in a bit, maybe something blog-worthy will happen at McDonald's.

I am a grown-up

2009-08-04T12:48:00.003-05:00

You know how kids will inadvertently say something dirty? You know how when that happens you have to remember you're an adult, not a twelve-year-old? You know how sometimes its no fun to be a grown-up?

This afternoon, returning home from a pizza/arcade/dirty feet/stupid plastic toys sort of place, Worm wondered who was eating candy. He was eating candy. He could see that Huck was eating candy. He asked Mel, and she confirmed she was eating candy. Then he asked me. I was not eating candy. Worm said, "Mama no eat candy?" So I pretended to be sad and told him I didn't have any candy. Then Huck piped up, "I ate my sucker, but you can lick my stick."

I am a twelve-year-old.

There's always something worse

2009-07-23T12:32:00.004-05:00

Yesterday, I took Huck to the hospital for upper GI testing.

We arrived a few minutes early and went straight to admitting. The woman behind the glass smiled and indicated his paperwork was on the top of her pile. Then she proceeded to highlight, write, and staple all over several other people's paperwork while we stood there staring at her. I was just about to say REALLY?!?!?!, when she straightened her last little pile against her ruler and picked up Huck's papers. To me, this indifference to us was a bad omen. However, the rest of the admitting business followed without incident. I told myself she was probably ODC, which is good in hospital admissions, and to stop being silly.

In the waiting area, I began reading an entertaining new book to Huck. A dad was there with his son who looked about three-years-old. They had a backpack full of toys and an air of seasoned pros about them. They happily listened to me reading aloud. I got the impression it was nice for both of them to have a new waiting room activity. They were called back to the lab and returned a few moments later laden with cool stickers and completely dry eyed. In my mind, this was another bad omen. I mean, what are the odds that two kids in a row will handle a blood draw well? Would you play Russian Roulette on those odds? If you answered yes, please seek help, or revisit your 3rd grade math book.

I was correct about the bad juju this time. Huck somehow had gotten it in his head that they were going to prick his finger. I warned him several times this would be like a shot, but he was still startled when the guy pulled out a needle. He started to shake and tears began running down his cheeks. Another guy came in and held him still. I guess they pegged him as a runner, probably a smart move. The phlebotomist's idea of bedside manner was to tell him that the boy before him didn't cry, plus his actual vein puncturing skills sucked. By the time Huck's blood started to flow, he was crying in that opened-mouthed, half yelling, drooly sort of way big kids cry when they aren't trying to garner sympathy or get out of trouble. You know, real crying. When it was over, hold-em-down guy looked at needle digger guy and said, "Good job, Joe."

Excuse me? Practicing your embroidery on my son's arm and pointing out that the toddler before him didn't cry, constitutes a good job? What the hell is a bad job? Using dirty needles? Snapping the kid with the rubber tourniquet then showing him the syringe and saying - this mofo's gonna hurt even worse? Please let's refrain from giving false confidence to all medical professionals, shall we?

After that, I figured the worst was behind us.

When will I learn that optimism is a total waste of time?

To be fair, the x-ray tech and radiologist were fabulous. The x-ray tech, Gary, was a big Hawaiian guy. He called Huck "brah" & me "cuz" and said aloha & mahalo and crap like that. Huck was immediately taken with him. In fact, when I commented to Huck that his breath smelled particularly acidic, he offered to let the x-ray guy smell it too. Gary declined, but with a mahalo all the same.

Jim, the radiologist was clearly a dad. He asked age appropriate questions and knew just what foods to talk about to get Huck's stomach working.

At first, things were going great. The giant x-ray camera was familiar to Huck thanks to previous tours of Jo's workplace. He enjoyed seeing his ribs and spine on the TV. He wondered if people would grow extra ribs if they ate too many bar-b-que ribs. This got him a chuckle from the guys, so then he was ON. He was chatty and charming and clever. He even sipped the barium without incident a few times. I sat down to wait it out, confident that these guys had it all under control.

Then Huck hit a wall. Turns out his stomach empties much slower than normal, so everything began to take a really long time. He had to drink something that adds gas to your stomach, but then you aren't supposed to burp. Burping is the one thing that really makes his stomach feel better (well, except for actually barfing, but let's not count that), so we always encourage him to burp. At one point, he was having to roll around on the table, hold in burps, and take sips of barium - he just fell apart. Unfortunately, the next task was to drink about 6 ounces of barium in about 8 minutes.

I held the cup and straw, Gary held wet and dry wash clothes, Jim brought a barf bag and then snuck out (chicken!). He cried, he gagged, he sputtered, he cried some more. I had to play good cop and bad cop. Alternating between encouraging patience and drill sergeant is difficult. At three minutes remaining, I started to lose my patience. I'm a chugger when it comes to nasty medicine and was just about to demand the same of him...

Then I thought of backpack dad from the waiting room, my friend with Autistic twins, and the other people I know who go through medical tests and procedures with their kids regularly. I mentally slapped myself. With my shit sufficiently together, I easily guided Huck through the last 4 ounces. We took every second of the eight minutes, but he got it all down. Gary commented that he could see I was about to lose it and then it was like I just switched gears. I told him that's exactly what happened.

Later, at lunch, we told Coco all about our hospital adventure and I noticed that Huck was telling it all cheerfully. I wanted this to stick in his mind, but not as a bad memory, so I decided to tell him something to make him laugh about it.

Me Hey, dude. You know you had upper GI testing, right?

Huck Yeah.

Me Do you know what they do for lower GI testing?

Huck No

Me They take that same white medicine you drank, and shoot it up your butt instead.

Huck *blink*blink*blink* Coco, is she joking me?

Coco No

Huck I guess there's always something worse.

What a great lesson. Thanks, Huck.

Are you effing kidding me?

2009-07-20T20:56:00.004-05:00

I took the kids to Wal-Mart today. I try to avoid shopping with two kids (I feel like putting a disclaimer here about how other people shop with bunches of kids and make it look easy, but I am not one of those people and having my attention divided makes me anxious and mean, oh look, I already have...), but we were out of everything except eggs and frozen veggies. I'm not saying I couldn't make a decent meal out of eggs, edamame, and bell pepper mix (actually that sounds kind of tasty), but I just didn't feel like trying.

On our way into the store, Worm decided he wanted to sit in a shopping cart NOW, not in one minute when we are inside and away from traffic, NOW. So I sidestepped to the nearest cart corral. There was only one cart in it, and it was pushed all the way to the back. I carried Worm in and as I am leaning over the entire basket to put Worm into the seat part, a man walks up with his empty cart. He smiles at Huck, he smiles at Worm, he smiles at me, and then he puts his cart in the corral and walks away.

Puts his cart in the corral.

While we are standing in it.

And walks away.

I have to push his cart backwards and pull the cart Worm is in forwards in order to escape the cart corral. His cart has a wonky wheel, of course, so it wouldn't push straight with one hand. I have to completely push his cart out of the way and then go back for the cart with Worm in it. Now, this wasn't a difficult task by any stretch of the imagination. But why did I have to do it?

Dude, Dubya Tee Eff?

Oh no you didn't!

2009-07-20T20:17:00.003-05:00

So our flight out of San Diego was cancelled. It wasn't just any cancellation. American Airlines pretty much flipped us the bird, laughed at our dismay, and then mooned us just for good measure. It was such an uncomfortable and exhausting day for the boys that we resorted to allowing Worm to do anything he wanted as long as it would keep him from screaming in public.

You want to throw your dinner on the floor?

Okay.

You want to throw my dinner on the floor?

Okay.

You want an entirely different dinner?

Okay.

You want to throw that on the floor too?

Yeah, okay.

You want to run through the airport, cackling like a maniac?

Okay.

You want to run through the airport, cackling like a maniac, pushing your own stroller?

Okay.

You want to touch every gadget in Brookstone?

Okay.

You want to sit on the back massager chair that could pinch you?

Okay.

It pinched you?

Yeah, saw that coming a mile away.

You want to sit on it again?

Look there's Jo, the bestest aunt in the whole world, run to her! Run away from the gadget store! Run, Forrest.

You want to walk around with Jo?

Okay!

You want to walk around with Daddy?

Okay!

You want to walk around with Mama?

*sigh* okay

You want to walk around with Huck?

Um... okay, but I'll follow at a safe distance.

You want to ride up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down, up and down on the escalator?

Okay, but hold my hand.

During one of our many time killing excursions, Worm barreled between two business men, bumping into their legs. It was after eight p.m. at this point. One of the men looked down at Worm and then said under his breath, "Why would you travel with a kid that age this time of night?" Clearly, he did not mean for me to hear him because when I whipped around and looked at him, he immediately turned red.

About nine clever comebacks popped into my mind as we walked away, but all I could think of at the time was, "Our flight was cancelled, asshole."

It kills me that's all I could think of in the moment, but at least I got to call him an asshole in front of his colleague. It made me feel just a tiny bit better.

2009-07-17T13:07:00.001-05:00

Our flight out of San Diego has been cancelled. Maybe we can stay another day!!!!!

Wormainian , the Sea World edition

2009-07-17T00:33:00.001-05:00

Guys = Dolphins

Ewwww= Eels (I'm with you, dude)

Shampoo= Shamu

One thing I forgot

2009-07-13T00:45:00.003-05:00

The moment we stepped onto the airplane for the first time, Worm began to scream "NO NO AIRPLANE!" He continued to scream this until a few minutes after takeoff. We got a lot of unhappy looks. FYI, toddlers could give a shit if they are making you uncomfortable.

Updates from San W

2009-07-13T00:12:00.002-05:00

I'm tired, but I have some readers who are curious about how the trip is going.

I think we got Huck's pukiness fixed for now. We stopped the prescription Axid & started 20mg of Prevacid Saturday night. This was all based on internet research on my part. I am so

NOT an internet MD kind of mom, but I was desperate to get him well enough to enjoy this trip. He's about 90% better. Looks like we are going to have to take him to a pediatric GI when we get home. Poor kid.

Now that Huck is all well, Truck is sick. He is also having GI issues. Let's just leave it at that, shall we?

Today, Jo and I let Truck hang in the hotel room and watch golf while we took the boys to the beach. They had so much fun! The best part was figuring out what Worm was calling the waves and why. Tif thought he was calling them scary bubbles. However, I am fluent in Wormainian, so I realized he was calling them sorry bubbles. You see, the waves were knocking them around, and when I bump into Worm I always say 'sorry'. This must happen a lot, because he now says sorry when he bumps people, the cat, the fridge, walls... he bumps into a lot of stuff. Anyway, waves are now sorry bubbles. I love how that kid's mind works.

2009-07-11T09:40:00.001-05:00

Right when we pulled up to the airport, Huck puked. Great start to our trip.

Yes, I do want to go to the seaside

2009-07-10T21:41:00.000-05:00

Preparations for San Dub-Ya

2009-07-08T22:15:00.005-05:00

We're going to San W on Saturday. That's San Diego for those who don't read every word I write plus all the comments. Oh and possibly a few personal texts between me and Jo. So, yeah, you probably don't get that, sorry.

Hey? You don't read every word I write plus all the comments... why the hell not?

Anyway, the preparations for this trip are kinda eating into my 'not that busy' time. It'll be Worm's first experience with air travel. I'm driving myself crazy making sure I've thought of everything he might need for a safe and comfortable trip. I'm scared shitless concerned that he will have a mid flight freak out and the one thing I decided to leave home is the only thing that will calm him down. At the same time, Truck is a work-week travel snob. I have to keep the carry-ons reasonable so I don't have to listen to endless sentences starting with "It's travelers like you..."

Plus, I'm a travel wimp. I get scared during take-off, every mid-flight bump makes me yelp, and landing always makes me nauseated. I puked during the landing of our honeymoon flight to Cancun. Romantic!

So, don't become overly alarmed if Homeland Security announces a sudden rise in the domestic flights threat level on Saturday. It's just me, Pukey McSherpa Pants, with a barf bag in one hand and the entire contents of her toddler's bedroom strapped to her back, screaming at her husband to just shut the eff up already!

Being friendly

2009-07-06T14:27:00.004-05:00

Today I was driving on a narrow, windy stretch of road, uphill, in heavy traffic. I was in the left lane (it's a four lane road, I'm not suddenly in the UK or anything) and there were construction barrels on my left. I was purposefully hugging the line between myself and the cars on my right because a road crew was working precariously close to those barrels. We're talking young men in neon green shirts inches away from my tires. I figured, in case of emergency swerving, I would rather nick a car than a person. Right? In fact, the car in front of me was doing the same thing.

Apparently someone in the right lane felt encroached upon. He honked and gestured wildly (albeit, not rudely) at both of us as he passed. He then proceeded to speed and weave his way through the remaining traffic. Huck asked, "Was that guy waving at us? Do we know him?" I replied, "No." I figured the no covered the fact that he was not waving at us and that we do not know him. I felt no need to elaborate. Huck then said, "Guess he was being friendly."

You know how you see people driving like that and always wish there was a cop there to see it too? THERE WAS! Dude got pulled over. As we passed I said, "There's our friend, let's wave at him!"

Being friendly never felt so good.

You just have to see it

2009-07-04T09:17:00.003-05:00

Huck has the complete cartoon series of The Adventures of Super Mario Brothers 3 circa 1990. Both boys are huge fans so it's preferred viewing around here. This morning I was going to record a little of my favorite episode for you, but no one would shut the eff up long enough for me to accomplish anything the boys were a bit boisterous. Finally, I decided to just look for it on youtube ('cause if you can't find it on youtube it must be a figment of your imagination, right?).

There were many versions to choose from, but this is the only one with actual Milli Vanilli music included. After the whole lip-syncing shakedown the music on the cartoon was changed to generic keyboard tunes.

Wormainian is being phased out

2009-07-03T22:32:00.002-05:00

We've had some recent breakthroughs in Worm's language development. This week he started saying his own name instead of calling himself baby. The cutest thing is that he makes it plural. Of course I might have nightmares tonight about Worm sextuplets or Worm clones.

Also, we got him to say I love you. Sort of. It comes out more like 'luggie'. Hearing him say 'Luggie, Daddy' and 'Luggie Mama' is precious. Multiple Worms chasing me with outstretched arms and snotty noses screaming LUGGIE MAMA, not so much. Man, I'm really setting myself up for a terrible night.

P.S. Huck did not get a trip to Sonic today. He and Truck spent 5 (million) hours on the golf course, and then we all went out to eat at a real restaurant. He did get to pick the restaurant and did not have to share his food with anyone. I consider that fair. But, if he asks I won't deny him that extra Sonic trip. He deserves it.

The shower gifts aren't for me!

2009-07-02T21:02:00.004-05:00

Crap, I have to tell you something about Worm too. Can't the kids take a break from being cute and funny so I can just surf the net for once?

Anyway, Worm requested some "lice cheese" this afternoon (a slice of american cheese to those who don't speak Wormainian), then headed straight to my bathroom. I stood behind the door and peeked at him. I thought watching him leave something in the shower might give me some insight into what's going on in his freaky little head.

It was a total non-event. He just pulled open the door, put the bowl of cheese on the shower floor, reached over and grabbed a few bites out, shoved them in his mouth, shut the door, and walked out of the bathroom.

Then he walked past me and said, "Daddy shower."

I guess the previous bowl of cheese and the dolly block were for Daddy.

Blabbing

2009-07-02T20:20:00.007-05:00

I was going to be lazy today and not write anything, but I have to tell you about Huck....

We were having Sonic for dinner because promising Worm french fries was the only way I could get him to leave the pool. Huck ordered a corn dog and Worm wanted a "hamgerger." However, once Worm got a good look at the corn dog, he changed his mind (he has inherited my love of all foods served on sticks).

Truck and I tried to purposefully misunderstand what Worm was wanting. "You want a drink of my soda?" "You want some ketchup?" "You want the toy?" We didn't really expect it to work, but you gotta try, right?

Finally, I looked at Huck and said, "If you trade dinners with him I'll take you back to Sonic tomorrow."

HOLY COW I LOVE THAT KID! He handed his corn dog over to his baby brother with a smile. No whining. No eye-rolling. No bemoaning the lack of fairness.

I heaped praise on him and told him I was going to tell everyone I know what a great big brother and all-around fabulous person he is.

He basked in the glow for a minute and then asked, "Are you going to blab about this?" I said, "Sure, I'm telling everyone who'll listen." He replied, "No, I mean on your blab. Are you going to put this on the internet?"

Hell yeah, dude.

I'm lazy, here's a video

2009-07-02T19:29:00.000-05:00

Another present from Worm

2009-07-01T15:51:00.007-05:00

Worm left another gift in my shower. To me, this is more confusing than the cheese. What is he trying to communicate with this particular item? I'd love to hear some theories from my readers.

I still haven't eaten the candy

2009-07-01T15:20:00.001-05:00

Don't Do It - The Band

Swearing like a Mother

2009-07-01T11:19:00.006-05:00

I just spent two hours cleaning out Worm's dresser and closet. It would have only taken an hour and a half, but I dropped a mug of coffee ten minutes into the chore. It splattered on the dresser, two walls, six feet of baseboards, the closet doors, the closet floor, a pile of freshly folded tiny t-shirts, and many, many toys. There were not enough variations on the eff word for me to properly express my frustration with this event. I made up a few new ones.

Don't Do It (my favorite song by The Band)

2009-06-30T22:25:00.004-05:00

Oh, I forgot to tell you guys, the kids also won a bunch of candy at Fast Lanes. Not just crappy off brand candy either. Full-sized candy bars. Hershey's and shit.

Okay, so technically I won it, but I immediately bequeathed it to the big kids.

Okay, so technically I didn't bequeath it to them 'cause I think then I would have to die before they got the candy. But, I did tell them it was all theirs and made good on this promise by making Huck & Mel divide it up as soon as Worm went down for his nap.

Those candy bars are now mocking me. It's taking every ounce of my willpower to stay away from the candy. I want to run to the kitchen, fling open the pantry door, move the collection of Wal-Mart sacks, open the random left-over Christmas box.....

Crap, now I have to think up a new candy hiding spot or you blood-suckers will sneak in and clean me out.

Shit, guys, I want to rip into that candy with such force that I eat some of the wrappers and not even notice.

Outnumbered

2009-06-30T21:06:00.006-05:00

Took Huck, Worm, and Mel to Fast Lanes today.

Holy !*(@#$%^&)+#$, what was I thinking? This is not the sort of place you should go when you are outnumbered 3:1 by kids. At one point, the big kids hit a 1000 ticket jackpot. They were giddy. I was nauseated. All I could think was, "Great, instead of 5 plastic trinkets, we get 50."

Jelly Beans

2009-06-29T17:29:00.005-05:00

Worm is cupping a tiny bowl of mixed Jelly Bellies. He's quite taken with the selection. He spends a few minutes touching each bean and saying all the colors he can name. Speckled isn't in his repertoire yet, he calls those pink.

Which bean will be first? The choice seems impossible. Finally, he selects a candy. I wait to hear his assessment. It's instant and definite. He spits it on his shirt. Black licorice.

I wipe his mouth and say, "Sorry, dude, some people like it. Try again."

Number two elicits cries of terror. Hot cinnamon.

"Oh, baby... I thought it would be cherry. Here drink some of my water. Better now? Wanna try again? No? Okay, I'll just leave them here in case you change your mind."

I settle down with a book thinking an Elmo DVD might buy me twenty minutes to read. I get thirty minutes! That's the toddler jackpot. The interruption is a sticky little hand on my leg. I look down and see his cheeks loaded with what has to be the remainder of his jelly beans.

He points to his mouth and says, "I like dat one!"

Gum isn't candy

2009-06-28T22:29:00.006-05:00

According to this article, Orbit gum is the number one selling candy in Russia.

Um, the space race is over. You can eat chocolate bars and gummy bears now.

Plus, this same article mentions that Trident was the first gum in space. Shouldn't Trident be on submarines or something?

Okay, so I have a problem with the whole article... gum isn't candy.

Dishpan hands

2009-06-28T22:06:00.003-05:00

My dishwasher has been broken all week. I have been completely inconvenienced and put upon by the whole hand-washing thing. Tonight I mentioned to Truck that I've never lived in a house without a dishwasher. He replied that he didn't live in a house with a dishwasher until he was eighteen, which means his mom didn't have one until she was in her forties.

Um, yeah, we're talking about MY pain here.

Mocking Potatoes

2009-06-26T17:59:00.006-05:00

Did I ever write about the time I made mock mashed potatoes using steamed cauliflower? The healthy cookbook said my family wouldn't even know the difference. Holy Vegans, it was so gross! Clearly the cookbook author's family is a bunch of ruhtards. It's still the gold standard for gross things I make Huck try one bite of. Tonight I made smashed potatoes. He got confused about what those were and started to cry and said he didn't want mocking potatoes.

Vegas, I'm not that busy style

2009-06-25T12:25:00.011-05:00

I've started and deleted this post three times since Monday night. My original thought was to do a parody of The Hangover using things that actually happened to me & Truck in Vegas. Turns out, that's a lot of work. I'm nothing if not lazy.

Next, I was going to tell of my Vegas adventure from my hair's point-of-view. I started out with airplane hair, then I had a great hair night, next my hair was normal, then wavy, then frizzy, then it got really dry, and finally I ended with airplane hair again. Sounds weird, right? It was. And stupid. And not funny. And hard to follow.

My third idea was haikus. However, this proved to be too much work, too hard to follow, and not an original blog format. Lots of bloggers haiku.

So, where does that leave me? Bullet points, of course. For fun, I'm writing them in no particular order. Less work for me and all.

On the way to Vegas I sat between Truck and a skinny, sleepy girl with really bad breath. Note to skinny girls: if you eat something, your breath won't smell so bad. I'm not making that up, not eating enough carbs makes your breath stink. Google it. Anyway, at one point Truck motioned to the ring on her finger and mouthed, "check out the rock." I mouthed back, "fake." Here is how I knew: bad skin, too much make-up (spider-leg lashes), inexpensive clothes, all other jewelry was cheap looking. The ring was at least 3 carats. Ladies, are you with me on this one? If someone in your life could afford a real diamond that big wouldn't you also be getting facials and new clothes out of the deal? And maybe some Listerine.

Cabbies:

Greek, told us about people in his family we were never going to meet and a monastery in Arizona. Dude, shut-up!
Really, really large, but mostly in his bottom-half. I can only imagine what the driver's seat of the cab looked like. Dude, how do you buy suits? Do you get two and just toss one whole jacket and one whole pair of pants?
Grumpy as hell, turned up the song Sensual Seduction. Seriously, dude, that song is so bad it makes my teeth itch. Plus, if you don't like people getting in and out of your car and asking you to drive them places, don't be a cab-driver. Just sayin'.
Pleasantly cursed at every other car on the road, generously honked his horn to remind all other drivers that he was more important than them, kindly weaved in and out of traffic to stay out of everyone's way, dropped me NOWHERE NEAR the American Airlines check-in. Dude, you're an a-hole.

Truck and I enjoyed people-watching at Olives at Bellagio. Most fascinating are the people who look alike but are much too young to already look alike. It's cute when old people look alike. It's creepy when newlyweds do. For example, the couple in my direct line of vision were in their early twenties, with short brown hair, gold wire-rimmed glasses and light blue shirts with black pants. Plus they were both soft and doughy, but not fat (Yes, I know. Hello, Kettle. I'm Pot.). It was just sad.

Diagonally to my left was a party of four that made up for the sad doughy kids. They, too, were in their early twenties. Best I can figure, they were about to attend an "ironic" dress like it's your Jr. Prom party. Surely that was it. Please, let that be the case, because they were knocking 'em back in a way that suggested unprotected bathroom sex was immanent. Okay, so now I'm just being mean and judgmental. Stick with me, I'm sure it'll get worse.

In Vegas, everyone checks everyone else out all the time. Well, not everyone. The only people who checked me out were at least twenty-five years older than me. I must look really hot to the the retirees. That's actually better than the interest I garner at home. Around town I attract men who are missing teeth, speak broken English, or talk aloud to themselves. Give me a sane, English-speaking, sixty-year old with a realistic set of dentures and I might just hit that.

Once, in front of the elevators, there was a group of Tibetan monks. They were completely blocking the elevator to my floor, but I had to pee really bad and wanted to do so in my room instead of the casino bathroom, so I just squeezed through them. There was a drunk guy (mid-forties, so way too young for me) who barged through them and got on the elevator with me. When the doors shut he says, "What's with all the llamas?"

I couldn't sleep late. I was wide awake by 5 a.m. every morning. That's 7 a.m. here. However, sleeping until 7 a.m. is pretty decadent for me. So I was up and wondering around by six every morning. It was fun to watch the other folks who were also unable to sleep late (I picked up a lot of guy's numbers during those times. Get it? Old guys wake up early?). It was even more fun to hang around the tables and watch the people who hadn't been to bed yet. Such exuberance! Also, I saw a guy who looked just like Shane Sparks. Shane Sparks was in line at Starbuck's in the Mirage at 6:30 a.m. on a Sunday morning.

Speaking of Starbuck's. How is their coffee so consistently bad? Chains all over the planet and the coffee still tastes like singed ass hair.

I overheard this conversation: "Hey, you're doing sidewalks now? I thought you were on bus-stops." "I was, but they always smelled like beer and piss." Okay, now, get your mind out of the gutter, it was maintenance men, not 'ladies'. My thought was 'When you took the job, what did you think a bus-stop would smell like?'

There's an adult pool at the Mirage. I asked Truck to stand by the adult pool sign and look scandalized. He refused. He's the only person who won't humor me on that shit. That's probably what's keeping us together.

Truck and I were on the elevator with another couple. A generic soft-rock song was playing and the other dude started grooving along a little. Then he caught me looking at him and got all embarrassed. He probably wouldn't have cared except that Truck and I were the doughy white couple in this scenario, not them.

Have you ever noticed that large crowds of people always smell like curry farts? Do we all become gassy Indians when mashed together?

I was outside writing in my notebook one morning, two girls wobbled up on painful looking shoes and sat down just slightly too close to me. Far enough away that I would look weird if I moved down, but close enough that I couldn't do anything but listen to their conversation. Mostly they texted and talked on their phones. There was much talk of 'hooking up later'. It was patently uninteresting as far as eavesdropping goes. Then one of them says, "My dad's on facebook now." Then the other says, "I know, I accepted a friend request from him the other day." A few minutes go by, then the first girl jumps up and says, "We have to go remove a bunch of tags NOW!"

Vegas is the only places where smokers are still unapologetic. Smokers don't skulk in Vegas. They wave it around in your ice cream like it's 1974.

I read this in a book while there, "If I stop judging other people, I free myself from being judged." Patti Digh (Life is a Verb).

Sure, Patti, but can it wait until after I get the Vegas post finished?

When you sit outside with a notebook, people think you're going to draw them. Hello, I have a blue pen and a lined composition notebook, are you a moron?

I really like cocktails in ice-cold, sugar-rimmed martini glasses. I would rather have several $14 drinks than gamble. Ends up costing less in the long run. I particularly liked the Showgirl at BLT Burger, the Slingback at Olives and the Floating Orchid at Japonais.

The Mirage has a Secret Garden and Dolphin Habitat. Big cats and dolphins in a mini zoo. It was really cool and all, great for kids. However, you have to walk through a casino to get to it. What do you do? Cover the kid's eyes just incase? What if you want to take the preschoolers on a field trip? I'm guessing blindfolds.

I love the lighting in the bathroom of my room at the Mirage. It's the most flattering bathroom light ever! I spent an inordinate amount of time admiring myself in that mirror.

My pen ran out once when I was taking notes outside. I shook it and it fell in some bushes. Leaned down to get it & changed my mind. It was by far the least offensive thing in that bush.

I decided I really like bald dudes. Saw a lot of guys who were hanging on to fewer strands than I have on my chin. The guys who just cut through the pretense make me smile.

Ladies, painting your toenails with only a stripe of color at the top looks stupid. Painting your toe nails silver with a black stripe at the top looks gross. Painting your toenails green with a black stripe on top looks like you have a fungus.

Why do people who don't have kids and don't look good in a swimsuit go to the pool? Is sweating and burning fun? It's Vegas, you can see scantily clad women inside where there's A/C.

Eavesdropped on a dad talking about his college-aged daughter. He said she was having to study and make financial decisions on her own for the first time. Apparently she flunked two classes and ran out of money. Now, I don't have kids old enough for independent study or money management, but I think that introducing these concepts BEFORE they are a legal adult is wise, perhaps.

"Sell your cleverness and purchase bewilderment" - Rumi. He never went to Vegas or he would have known bewilderment is free.

Patricia from Brazil is a blackjack dealer at the Mirage. She's obsessed with the Duggars. I'm not sure how you would determine that about your blackjack dealer, nonetheless, Truck discovered this and told her we live near them. She then told everyone who came to the table that Truck was Jim Bob Duggar's brother. She nearly swooned when he told her we live less than a mile from Joshua Duggar's car lot.

I hate not having baby wipes in my bag.

Truck and I played blackjack with Hesh from the Sopranos.

Walked to the elevator behind a guy with his arms around two very skanky girls in sliver bikinis and plexiglas shoes. The whole time I was thinking "pleasedon'tgetinmyelevator" over and over in my head.

If you have an actual song for your ring tone, I will make fun of you.

In the airport I heard a guy on the phone say, "... as if you didn't trust me." Dude, you're in Vegas and said the T word in a "wounded" voice. You just bought yourself a month on the couch and couples counseling.

I don't get most man jewelry. Especially gold hoop earrings. Argh, matey?

And here's where I will end the bullets. Surely you noticed there are no tales of big wins or losses, no gushing reviews of the shows we saw, no tempting descriptions of the meals we ate. That's just not the "i'm really not that busy" way. I live in the seams of life, not the fabric.

I have returned, I am exhausted

2009-06-22T22:30:00.003-05:00

I have 8 notebook pages of scribbles from my Vegas trip. I'll start sifting through them tomorrow while Worm is napping. It may take me a few days to get anything coherent put together. It's all just impressions and brief observations, so the post will be disjointed and oddly worded. I don't see how anything regarding Vegas could ever have a sense of flow or continuity. The whole place is just a snarl of bursting noises, flashing colors, and assaulting smells. Some good, some bad, all jarring.

2009-06-22T22:28:00.001-05:00

I can text blog updates now!

A small confession

2009-06-19T08:12:00.003-05:00

After all my big talk, I only spent $400 of my $500. I wanted $100 for emergencies. What happens in Vegas and all....

No, really, what does happen in Vegas?

I've never been.

I do know I'm not sleeping on any of my flights. I have no intention of returning pregnant with another devil-baby.

A rare beast, indeed

2009-06-17T19:30:00.007-05:00

This morning, I stopped to get coffee before my big $500 shopping spree and encountered a rare beast: sweaty-from-his-workout-inappropriate-cell-phone-rude-to-service-people-guy. I've run across sweaty guy, cell phone guy, and rude guy plenty of times. They aren't that rare, know what I'm sayin'? But the cross breed? It was a truly spectacular sighting.

So dude's in front of me in line, and he's not just kinda sweaty. There are rivulets of sweat running down his legs from parts of his body I really don't want to be considering. I actually slipped in a small puddle of jerk sweat when I stepped up in line.

Then his phone rings and he proceeds to have a conversation that forces me to further consider the sweatier parts of his body. Yup, he went there. Loudly. In a lovely little local coffee shop.

When it's his turn to order, he's rude in that 'I was just being funny' way that's never actually funny. After placing his order, he demands the clerk recite it back. Large vanilla latte. That's it. It's not like he was making sure she understood he needed skim because he's calorie counting or soy because he's lactose intolerant. Large. Vanilla. Lots of milk and foam. Even I remember, and I've been trying to forget all damn day. With the order confirmed, she asks his name to write on his cup. He tells her it's Frank. As she starts to write, he says, "My name's, not really Frank? Did you think I was serious? Do I look like a Frank?" The girl just calmly says, "What would you like me to put on your cup, sir?"

Finally, he steps away. I look at the clerk and say, "I would have just written Dick on his cup." She picks up his cup, turns it over, and draws a tiny little penis on the bottom. I gave her a high five and put $3.00 in the tip jar.

Jesus is always good for a laugh

2009-06-16T20:58:00.005-05:00

Last Saturday, Truck and I took the kids downtown for some family fun. Truck hit the bar, I hit the corner and the kids hit the pipe. Family fun indeed!

I kid.

Actually, we went to check out a new community sponsored event called "Take your Kid to Dickson Street". We opted to take both kids because it was just too hot to leave one in the car.

Again with the kidding.

What I really wanted to share with you was an exchange I had with a dad outside one of the event areas. It was a spot set aside for the kids to draw on the sidewalk with chalk. I opted to wait with the stroller and Truck waded in with the boys. The other dad was waiting with his stroller too.

At first I was minding my own business, wiping some funk off the stroller's tray and admiring all the little chalk masterpieces. Then something caught my eye. I little girl named Mathilda had written of her love for Jesus directly above a spot where a kid named Landry had written his name. Basically it said "Mathilda loves Jesus Landry".

I turned to the dad and said, "Hey, Mathilda thinks Jesus' last name is Landry."

Let me interrupt this story to clarify that I live in the Bible Belt. Opening a conversation with a slightly irreverent Jesus remark could lead to unwanted witnessing and/or stoning.

Stroller dad didn't miss a beat. He replied, "Someone should tell her it's Christ."

So I said, "Really? I always thought it was Ovnazareth."

We both started laughing.

Then his wife walked up and gave me the stink eye.

Normal kids make for boring posts

2009-06-16T18:24:00.003-05:00

Worm was good today and Huck didn't say anything weird.

Great for my sanity.

Sucks for the blog.

Hurricane Worm

2009-06-15T13:36:00.001-05:00

Crouching Colors, Hidden Pillow

2009-06-15T11:38:00.009-05:00

Huck's favorite color has always been yellow. To me, it's not the most neutral of 'gender-neutral' colors. Still, I've always let him pick out as many yellow shirts, candies, and cups as his little heart desired. Sissiness be damned.

So this morning, when Huck announced he had new favorite colors, I was more than a little interested. I figured we were finally moving into some more traditionally masculine color schemes around here.

Huck: I have some new favorite colors, but I can't decide what order I like them in.
Me: Well, just tell them to me in any order.
Huck: Gold, silver, blue, green, red, and I still like yellow.
Me: *choke* Gold? As in gold jewlery?
Huck: Yeah, it's shiny and nice.
Me: Okay, which of those is first? (pleasedon'tsaygoldpleasedon'tsaygoldpleasedon'tsaygold)
Huck: Gold, of course.
Me: *sigh* What's next?
Huck: Here's where I can't decide between silver, blue, or green. Can they all just crouch together at second.
Me: Sure, they can crouch. What's third?
Huck: Red.
Me: So yellow is number four?
Huck: Yes. Should I hide my yellow pillow from pre-school?
Me: Why?
Huck: So people won't see it and think yellow is my favorite color.
Me: If you think that would be best.

Vanilla Pudding and Spare Change

2009-06-15T09:14:00.004-05:00

It's 9:15 Monday morning and the boys are eating vanilla pudding. Don't judge. They had breakfast like 2 hours ago and the pudding is sugar-free plus a good source of calcium. It says so right on the package.

P.S. I am digging this song today.

Spare Change - Matt & Kim

I'm still laughing

2009-06-14T08:52:00.011-05:00

Last night Truck told me to spend some money.

He instructed me to take $500 out of savings and go clothes shopping on Wednesday when the kids are with Grandpa. We are going to Vegas on Friday & San Diego in July. I really do need some clothes that I haven't worn while emptying a baby pool or climbing the slide at Chick-fil-A. Even my 'going out' clothes have unidentifiable stains.

After he delivered this edict he added "If you don't spend all $500 you can deposit it back."

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...

breathe

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...

gasp

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA... okay I think I'm done. Oh! Nope, here it comes again

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA choke a little HAHAHAHAHAHA...

He said IF YOU DON'T SPEND IT ALL! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Who knew he was so funny?

I'm still playing with my damn blog (no blog is not a euphemism for something dirty)

2009-06-13T22:48:00.004-05:00

I can quit anytime I want. For real.

I just don't want to right now, okay?

Truck just walked through the bedroom. He was hunting for the cat (We have cat issues that have never made it to the blog. I should rectify that soon). He found the cat and then said, "I'm going to watch Entourage now."

Great, like I need another round of Jeremy Piven nightmares.

I decided I should not be the only one with Jeremy Piven fever dreams, so I'm giving you this gem.

Good night. Sleep tight.

I need to go to bed, but I want to stay up and play

2009-06-13T22:07:00.004-05:00

Wow, what a dirty title.

Sorry, Truck. Not tonight, I have an addiction.

I seriously want to stay up all night putting random stuff in posts.

But, I have to raise kids and shit tomorrow and that requires 6-8 hours of sleep. So I am going to leave you this one thing and then go to bed....

I so wish I could do that!

An old dog learns a new trick (Not that I'm old, or a dog. Crap, I hate when I inadvertently insult myself.)

2009-06-13T21:43:00.007-05:00

A few weeks back, a nice person named Susan left a comment on my blog telling me I could edit my Html to add songs to my posts without making you leave the blog to hear it. At the time I wondered if maybe I needed to learn Farsi or a smattering of ancient Aramaic to understand her comment (that's another Gilmore Girls reference, if you are keeping track). Then I saw this little box that said edit Html. Long story short, it's like cutting & pasting 101. Look what I can do!

She Moves In Her Own Way (Radi...

If you enjoyed that song, thank Susan, whoever she is. If you didn't enjoy that song, I don't really care.

Big E loves the redheads

2009-06-12T22:12:00.006-05:00

Truck & I went to dinner and a movie tonight with Big E and Mrs. Big E. The first restaurant we attempted to patronize was so crowded we couldn't park. The second restaurant we tried hadn't opened for business yet. At that point we gave in and ate at Red Robin. Whatever. Our only real criteria was a fully stocked bar. As we were leaving, dude came out in the bird costume. I dared Big E to let me take his pic and put it on the blog. He didn't let me down. He really had no choice after he left me to defend myself against the tootsie roll throwers that one time.

We saw The Hangover. The funny thing is, Mrs. Big E and I actually saw this movie together on Sunday. Neither of our hubbies are Friday night movie guys (too expensive & too many kids), so the only way we could get them out was by promising to see it again. No problem, I was sure there were some subtleties I missed the first time around. Uh, kidding about the subtleties. It's a hysterical and nasty movie, but there's nothing subtle about it.

Anyway, I remembered from my first viewing that there were two horror movie trailers before the show. I'm such a chicken that I can't even handle two minutes of scary. So I used that time to go to the restroom. I didn't have to go, but I tried anyway. We are always making Huck do this and he hates it, so I thought I'd see what the fuss is about. Dude, what's the big deal? So you pee a little instead of a lot? Get over it.

I tried to go slow with the hand washing & lip gloss application, but when I got to the theater door I could tell the scary shit was still on. There was a guy sweeping the floor and I tried to talk to him. I think I said something like, "I'm such a baby, I had to leave during the scary previews." He said something like, "I have to go sweep the men's room now." Then a guy came out of my theater, went to the men's room, and was right back out in less than a minute. ewwww. So I caught him as he was walking in and said, "Hey, dude! You in the orange shirt! Yeah, you. Is the scary stuff over yet?" He looked at the screen and said, "Yeah, that guy from Entourage is on the screen now." So I got all excited 'cause Adrian Grenier is yummy.

It was Jeremy Piven.

Hey, orange shirt wearing dumb-ass with questionable hygiene, I was trying to avoid bad dreams. Thanks for nothing.

You can let out that breath you've been holding

2009-06-12T17:23:00.004-05:00

Here's the new do.

One tough cracker and one not so tough cracker

2009-06-12T15:29:00.004-05:00

Worm is eating some crackers. They're thicker than usual and require extra vigorous biting. He made an attempt, but couldn't quite get a bite. So he took the cracker out of his mouth and said, "Aw, maaan".

Keep up the cute, Worm. It's the only thing that's keeping you out of foster care.

Speaking of crackers....

Years ago, Huck came home from pre-school and laid this nugget in my lap, "Mr. Jason says I'm so white I'm like a cracker."

Yes, a daycare worker called my son a cracker. It's all good. I referred to that guy as "the pedophile in training" so we're probably even. Not that I really thought he was a pedophile, I just say crap like that.

Music that's making me happy

2009-06-11T19:10:00.010-05:00

Today has been all about Matt & Kim. You may have heard their song Daylight on a cool Bacardi commercial. That's what made me check them out. So glad I did!

Go to their MySpace page if you're interested in hearing some cool music. I recommend Lessons Learned, Daylight, Yea Yeah, Silver Ties... hell it's all good.

They're going to be in Dallas on July 11th. If we weren't leaving for SAN DIEGO that day, I would make Jo get me some tickets for my birthday (which will be 12 days after that in case you want to buy me a present or bake me a cake).

Minty fresh poo

2009-06-11T13:27:00.006-05:00

Today I took all three kids to our local library....

....

Um, I'm waiting for you to say "THREE kids?"....

...

Oh, you did? Sorry, didn't hear you. Damn internet isn't turned up loud enough.

Okay, so I have a friend who works from home. She has an eleven year old daughter. Let's call her Melbourne, Mel for short. Having Mel at home makes my friend's life harder. Having Mel with me makes my life easier because she is free slave labor the kids love her. I have her on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It's awesome!

On Tuesdays we go to the library for Huck & Mel to participate in reading groups and for Worm to act like a total turd in public. There's a story-time for his age group as well, but he would rather chew off his own feet than attend. At least that was my understanding on Tuesday. The holy hell fit he pitched when I tried to enter the story room could have indicated that he would rather chew off his own elbows. I'm not really certain of anything except that he was going to start biting if we didn't get the eff away from the soft spoken lady, puppets, craft supplies and happy children.

On Thursdays the library has kid friendly entertainment, so we went back. It was kiddy music. It was horrible. Huck loved it.

How does a kid like The Clash and a duo that opens with 'If You're Happy and You Know It' and closes with the alphabet song set to a really generic Reggae beat?

It started out okay. Worm sat on my lap, away from the other kids, and said "SONG" after the first tune. He even sat on the rug by Jack, briefly. Then they sang a song about candy. Worm lost his shit.

He began crying and yelling "CANDY" and digging through my purse. I had no candy. I did have some Breath Savers. I bit one in half and let him eat it. He liked it and wanted to eat the whole roll. I don't know what eating a roll of Breath Savers will do to a two year old's stomach. I imagine the result would be diarrhea that smells refreshing. I'm not interested in testing that theory.

He was so inconsolable that I had to take him out to the car. In the car we listened to really bad kid music and did not eat candy. He was happy as a clam.

um, ouchie

2009-06-11T13:17:00.002-05:00

Mom hair and mullets

2009-06-10T20:47:00.010-05:00

Got my hair did today.

We added more blonde for the summer. Brighter hair color makes me happy. It looks fabulous, as usual, because Staci is a color genius. Seriously, go see her, your roots look like crap.

Sorry, was that mean? Whatever, Miss Clairol, you know it's true.

Anyway, the BIG HAIR news is...

I got bangs and lost the sharp angle.

My hair is now a blonde bob with bangs. Wow, I didn't see that coming at all. That's pretty much mom hair. Should I have mom hair? Should I change my name to Deb? If you didn't get the Deb thing, you're not a Gilmore Girls fan. Yes, I know the final season was two years ago. I still watch it everyday on ABC Family. Bite me. Are you allowed to say 'bite me' while sporting mom hair?

Aaaaaaaaanyway, a few weeks ago I was considering doing something a bit funky to my hair this summer. I am going to live with the mom hair for a few weeks & mull over my funky thought. I've shared the funky thought with my boys: Huck is pro, Truck is con, Worm is a brat. Their opinions have now been noted, but will not be considered at decision time.

I would have included a picture of the new do, but I came home from the salon and spent the next 6 hours cleaning out Huck's room. It REALLY looks like mom hair right now. It is messy, sweaty and is housing at least two dust bunnies. I found a raisin in it after I cleaned out under Huck's bed. Huck doesn't really like raisins. God, I hope it was a raisin.

Don't get me wrong, I don't hate my hair. It is just a little boring. The good thing (other than the gorgeous color) is my hair is still a bit angled. If I don't keep the front longer than the back, I end up slightly mulleted after a few weeks. A slight mullet is unacceptable. If you're going to have a mullet, you must go balls out. I'm talking Billy Ray Cyrus circa 1993 here. Go ahead and click the link, don't be scared. It's not THAT Billy Ray Cyrus song.

Anyway, that's probably enough about my hair. I suspect you lost interest with the words 'mom hair'. I don't blame you, I would have too.

Get thee behind me

2009-06-08T19:50:00.007-05:00

Worm is the devil's spawn.

Really.

I am now convinced that Worm was not conceived in Hawaii. I believe we entered a twilight zone on the plane ride home from Hawaii. While in this zone the devil boarded the plane, impregnated me, and then erased everyone's memory.

I'm not joking.

I can no longer accomplish anything in a timely (or even uninjured) manner. He has entered the "tiny control freak" stage of toddler-hood. When Huck was in this phase he cried a lot. That's it. Cried. Some extra hugs, a few firm yet reassuring words and he was good to go.

Worm. Freaks. The. Fuck. Out. Over. Everything.

Here's a run down of the more memorable freak outs from the past few weeks:

Leaving the Park to go to Chick-Fil-A: He was hungry and thirsty and had clearly indicated he would like to have "Chick" and "Lem-Nade". I am not sure what set him off, maybe because I carried him instead of letting him walk across the blistering parking lot? He shrieked his way to the car and then did a backbend in his car seat that would have impressed Madonna's yoga instructor. It took nearly ten minutes to get him securely buckled. I did not raise my voice even one time. I did, however, bite the inside of my lip so hard that I have canker sores in two places.

Sunscreen : Worm :: Holy Water : Devil

Leaving Best Buy: The candy machines set him off. He was all cool with leaving until I said no to the candy machines. He was so mad that he actually kicked me in the head (repeatedly) while I buckled him in. I did yell this time. Can you hold your shit together while someone kicks you about the face and head? If you answered 'yes', you just won yourself a toddler.

Bath time: Clearly there is hydrochloric acid in our bath water.

The end of bath time: Seriously? You just screamed your head off throughout this entire bath and now you're pissed because it's over? You're killing me here.

Crackers: We're out of all forms of crackers. Worm climbed up on the kitchen counter, got down the phonebook, looked up the number for SCAN and said "don't make me call them, lady." Okay, so that one is an exaggeration, but give him six more months. He WAS irate for about half an hour over the crackers.

Wal-Mart: screamed NOOOO NOOOO NOOOO from the check-out to the car. A lady actually followed me to my car and watched me buckle him in. I thought she was making sure I didn't beat him once I got him in the car. Instead she helped me put the groceries in the back and then gave me a hug. Huggers generally creep me out, but I was too weak to resist.

These are just the ones I have the energy to write about. He melts down about 6 times a day. He is awake about 10 hours/day. I'm too tired to even do the math. It's a butt-load of tantrums, how's that for mathematical precision?

Mag & Kat

2009-06-06T10:35:00.003-05:00

This is Mag Porterfield (Nanny) and Kat Seal (Mamaw).

Kat has her little arthritic hands tucked demurely behind her back as she waits patiently for the photographer to snap her picture.

Mag is shaking her fist and threatening to "Whoop the shit" out of the photographer if she doesn't hurry.

Guess which one is MY grandmother?

Mag & Kat are 88-year-old widows. They are living together for the first time in about 70 years. They dress alike on purpose.

Are they adorable or what?

Deal

2009-06-06T09:35:00.006-05:00

Okay, so I have been completely MIA. Forgive me. There was plenty of fodder in these last few weeks, but I just procrastinated the writing until the moments were lost. I'm unreliable. Deal.

Here are some bullets to catch you up...

Memorial Day at my mom's - My female cousins are awesome, including the "by marriage" one. We will forever be The Wondercousins! Their kids are lovable and funny and charming. It was a blast. I hope to never go that long without seeing them again. I tried hard to write about the trip, but I think I wanted it too much. The words just wouldn't flow. I have a hysterical picture that deserves it's own post. I think I can muster up a little something for that. Or maybe not. Deal.

Kindergarten Graduation - Huck goes to a school with A LOT of Mexicans. This is not a culture I am familiar with. Oh hell, who am I kidding, if you aren't white and from the south I probably think you're a freak. My blog, my reality. Deal with that too. Anyway, the Mexicans like to dress their little girls like Disney princesses or tiny brides. Huck looked like the token white kid at Guadalajara High prom. I am not saying this in a judgmental way. It is what it is. He is very white. They are very Mexican.

My health - Had two week follow up for my BP. It was 123/72 after two weeks on Benicar. Looks like I'll be on that indefinitely. Great. I love taking pills. I guess I'll have to deal with that.

There is more. The kids have been alternating between funny, annoying, and endearing. I have been interacting with strangers. We have been back to The Club. The potential is there, the ambition is not. Story of my life.

I didn't do that cliche thing involving vomit

2009-05-27T17:58:00.007-05:00

I just said "Bath time!" Worm replied, "No. Hot." To the untrained ear, this may sound as if Worm is requesting a cool bath. He isn't. He's requesting chicken nuggets or a hot dog. If you spent a few days with him it would make sense to you, I swear.

Anyway, I clarified, and it turns out he wanted a turkey dog. Dinner was less than an hour ago, but I knew there was no way to talk him out of it. He is single-minded, to put it politely. I'm an 'in for a penny, in for a pound' kinda girl, so I asked Huck if he wanted a turkey dog too. He did, but "Only if it's frozen."

Holy Mary Mother of God!

My regular readers know I HATE the phrase 'I just threw up in my mouth', so I will not tell you that's what happened to me.

Instead I will refer you back to this funny post I linked to a few months back. Pick any option on this list, or off the comments. It's all funny and it all pretty much sums up how I felt about the frozen hot dog request.

Um, ha, ha?

2009-05-27T17:45:00.004-05:00

Huck just made up a joke. It's not bad for a joke made up by a 6-year-old. However, it's not good either. I'm posting it mainly to document the fact that he truly grasps the concept of wordplay. I'm really proud of that achievement.

Drum roll please.....

How do cows learn to dance?

They just MOOOOOOOVE around.

bada bing

Um, okay, that's all. Just wanted to get it posted before I forgot. Stay tuned for a post introducing you to more of my family....

So this is my last title starting with so

2009-05-26T12:27:00.002-05:00

When I started the blog in October, using the word 'so' to start all my titles didn't seem like a big deal. To me, it went with the blog title 'I'm really not that busy.... So I write a silly blog.'

But now it just feels confining. Sometimes I think of a great title and then I can't make it work with the word so. That sucks. I hate giving up something funny.

I also hate using nicknames for everyone, but I'll keep those for continuity purposes. If I ever write another blog I am dropping all anonymity, it's a pain in the ass.

I have some posts started in my head. Hopefully they will make it to the screen before I forget them. This is the end of the school year, so I have some loose ends to tie up before I can get back to being not that busy.

So my birthday is in 63 days

2009-05-21T12:40:00.003-05:00

Will someone please make this cake for me?

I am not normally a fan of cake, but I would fork my own children in the hand if they tried to get a bite of this off my plate.

So I'm a winner!

2009-05-21T11:31:00.003-05:00

I won a $50 Sephora gift card!

An awesome blogger, Metalia, ran a contest last week. All I had to do was go to youtube, look at these cool Motion Comics based on the comic strip ZITS, and then comment on her blog about the one I liked best.

When I saw it I was like "Hey, I like comics! Hey, I have opinions! I am so winning this!"

The comics were definitely worth seeing, even without the lure of a prize. You should go check them out (however I will not be sharing my prize with you for doing it)! Click here to see the comics.

Thanks again, Metalia!

So I feel hungover, which inevitably results in my singing show tunes at breakfast

2009-05-21T06:49:00.010-05:00

I purposefully didn't read the side effects of my new pills before I took one. I didn't want to 'know what to look for' and then obsess over every little twinge. If I know the side effects, I'll spend my day thinking the pills are damaging me worse than the hypertension is damaging me. Luckily I do not require medication for my tenuous grip on reality. I would totally be the crazy, unwashed lady in the Walgreen's parking lot who yells at the building and won't take her meds because 'they are trying to control me with them'.

Being sick or pregnant or otherwise not in my normal state of health is tedious for me because of all the self-analysis that comes with it. I like to ignore my feelings like a good little lapsed Catholic. Basically, I want to take the pill and forget all my worries. Unfortunately, blissful ignorance is not a side-effect of any HBP medications I know of. I think I would have to develop Glaucoma for that particular side-effect.

So this morning I woke with a headache, nausea, and great thirst. My first thought was, "Whoa, what'd I drink?" Then I remembered that the kids did not drive me to drink yesterday I hadn't had anything to drink since Friday. My next thought was, "Crap, I have swine flu." Then I remembered the pills.

So I busted out the internet and took a google around. The side-effects of my pills are blessedly few and unremarkable. Headache, dizziness and nausea were on the list, however, that's the holy trinity of side effects so I wasn't surprised.

At breakfast I told Huck I wasn't feeling that great. He said, "You'll feel better tomorrow, Mama." I replied, "Tomorrow feels really far away right now." Then he said "It's only one day away."

Of course I began to sing "Tommorow" from Annie. How could I not?

When I finished, I looked expectantly at Huck. I thought I might get a round of applause or at least a giggle. He avoided eye contact for a second, then looked at me and said, "Never do that in front of anyone."

So I have hypertension

2009-05-20T12:35:00.005-05:00

I just spent hours at the doctor's office. Fun!

He took my blood pressure about 4,00 times. It was elevated every time. Such fun!

Then he sent the devil phlebotomist in to draw some blood. Did I mention I was having fun!?

Anyway, I have hypertension. I'm tense & hyper? Did I need to go to the doctor to figure that out? Maybe I did because I totally knew the tense thing, but hyper? Really? But I'm so lazy and unambitious? Hyper? Me?

But seriously, I have high blood pressure and I have to take some pills & go back in two weeks to check my BP & talk about the results of my blood work.

He assured me that I was "unlikely to have a stroke". You notice he did not say, "You silly girl, you are much to young, and, may I respectfully add, beautiful to have a stroke." He just said it was unlikely. Hmm, not feeling reassured.

I'm going to go take my pill and do some yoga now. I think hitting my system with Western & Eastern healing styles at the same time might confuse it into submission.

So I'm not the only one who is cracked

2009-05-18T14:13:00.004-05:00

I have proof that I'm not the only person who thinks CAT TURDS when she sees Tootsie Rolls. Click here to read a post from a very talented writer who has taken the cat turd/tootsie roll thing slightly too far in a very funny way.

If you don't remember my tootsie roll post, you can read it here. It is not the visual treat that Marinka at Motherhood in NYC has offered, but still worth a look if you like things written by women who are just a bit off.

So I owe Jo this post

2009-05-18T13:05:00.005-05:00

I went to Dallas this weekend to help Jo settle into her new place. However, it wasn't all work. Friday night we went out for Sushi, drinks, and pool.

Pool?

Really?

You didn't take me for a pool player, did you?

You would be correct. I suck at pool. Really, really, really suck. The beers and jello shot did not help my game. Yes, I said jello shot. No, I am not 19 years-old. I'm sure there was a reason for the jello shot. That reason has long since escaped me.

Anyway, the point of this post is not to describe my pathetic attempt to play pool. The reason for this post is to share with you a charming little quip I spied in the bathroom of the fine establishment where I learned that hitting the white ball in the hole is bad.

Some lovely girl wrote this pleasant little passage on the left side of the middle stall in the Back Yard Beach Club in Dallas, TX:

"You want to park your beff bus in my terd town - Ha Ha!"

I was going to add [sic] at the end of that quote, but then I decided my readers probably know I can spell the words beef and turd correctly.

I wish I had a marker with me at the time. I so wanted to leave my own note for the author of that delightful witticism. It was after the many beers and mysterious jello shot that I read it, however I feel that I might have invited the author to continue offering this type of sexual favor because she needs to avoid actual procreation at all costs.

Then again, I might simply have suggested that she limit all sexual activity to solo ventures.

I'm not sure what my mind frame was at the time.

Did I mention I had a jello shot?

So I might have a stroke

2009-05-18T12:38:00.005-05:00

I have a lot on my mind today. A well-written, organized post isn't gonna happen. In fact, I'm resorting to bullet points...

Sunday, I decided to start eating better, drinking more water, getting some exercise, and sleeping more than 6 hours a night. I've been feeling like dog doo-doo and I know my lifestyle is the cause.

Today I checked my blood pressure at Wal-Mart. It was 148/105. That's. Not. Good. Worm wasn't even being a brat or anything, so it was probably accurate.

I now have a doctor's appointment Wednesday morning. Good thing I already decided on the lifestyle changes because now I'm going to get an earful about that plus some Beta Blockers. Aging is fun!

I am telling you all of this so that I have some accountability.

So we ate dinner at The Club

2009-05-12T18:59:00.007-05:00

Kids eat free on Tuesday nights at The Club. It's not really a money saving deal for me or anything. There are plenty of places the kids and I can eat a cheap healthy meal (like our own kitchen). But I promised Huck we would do it, and I try very hard to keep my promises to my kids. So, off to The Club we went. Just me, the boys and twenty pounds of books, markers, and activity pads.

Things started out great and only got better. Did you catch the sarcasm? No? You really thought a story about an uneventful meal at The Club would make the blog? You must be new here, welcome. A story about a lovely meal at The Club with my two adorable and well-mannered sons would never be featured here (not that they aren't adorable and well-mannered ((mostly)). First, because there would be no humor in it. Second, because it would never happen.

Let's begin, shall we?

Worm had a runny poo on the way into The Club. He stopped in the middle of the lobby, got a panicked look on his face, and then yelled "POO POO, MAMA!"

This story should just end here. If I were a more intelligent person it would. I should have just packed it up right then. But no, a promise is a promise.

The women's locker room was deserted and I had a ziplock full of markers in my ammo diaper bag. I dealt with the poo, dumped the markers loose in my bag, put the diaper in the ziplock (so the smell would be somewhat contained until the trash was emptied), washed up, and headed to the dining room. I figured that was my disaster for the night. I am, apparently, quite naive.

When we got to the table, Worm climbed right up into a chair before I could get him in a highchair. This meant he would have a freak-out if I took him out of the big boy chair and put him in a highchair. My goal for this evening was to leave the club fed and without embarrassing myself. A Worm freak-out would completely shatter that goal, so I opted for a booster seat. It's not ideal because he can get out of it if determined enough, but a booster seat is novel to him, so he allowed me to put him in it. I then pushed him so close to the table that he might have some slight bruising on his ribs tomorrow. I stopped pushing when he let out a little grunt. Then I congratulated myself on another disaster averted. Oh, I am so ignorant. The grunt may not have been due to the overzealous pushing, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Waiting for the food went well. The service there is impeccable, so the milks arrived quickly, the crackers were free flowing, and they turned in the kids' portion of my order as soon as we were seated to keep the wait short. Plus I had that half a gazillion pounds of kid entertainment with me. Although, you'll remember the markers are now loose in my bag. Let's go ahead and change that to spilled under the table. It's not like you couldn't see it coming. "A minor blip", I thought to myself. So, so stupid.

Their food came quickly and the general business of children eating commenced. Then I smelled a familiar smell. I looked at Worm and asked, "Did you poo?" He very enthusiastically replied, "UH-HUH!" It was another runny poo. That earlier grunt was now flashing through my mind. If I were I smart woman, I would have investigated that grunt more closely. I believe we have established that I am not a smart woman.

Huck wanted to stay at the table alone while I ran down to change Worm. It is not like him to want to be alone in an unfamiliar place, but I was taking any bone thrown to me at this point, so I let him. Have we established my ignorance yet?

While I was downstairs with Worm, a thunderstorm rolled in, and my food arrived. By the time I got back to the table, Huck was curled up sideways in his chair crying in that sad, silent way boys cry when they can't hold back the tears but don't want anyone to see them. I thought he was afraid of the storm, so I hugged him and told him it would blow over soon. He replied, "Yeah, the thunder will stop soon, but the rain won't, and then I'll get wet going to the car." I replied, "Seriously? Your brother has filled his pants with liquid crap twice in twenty minutes, I haven't eaten a mouthful of food, and you're worried about getting rained on?" Okay, so I didn't say that to him, but I wanted to. Instead I told him I would pull up the car for him.

This set off another round of tears! The boy who happily stayed behind a moment ago while I went to another floor, was now balking about watching me run to the car in the rain while he stayed dry. I told him I would find someone to wait in the lobby with him and Worm while I went to get the car. He asked about one million and seven questions about who this person would be. My dinner began to get cold.

Just when I was about to scream Oh my God, shut the hell up and let me eat loose my patience, Worm figured out that the whole booster seat pushed into the table was a scam. He began to very deliberately slide down in his seat. I grabbed him with one hand and signaled for a waitress with the other.

I asked for some to-go boxes as I put on my coat. Worm took this opportunity to lean as far sideways as he could. Luckily the family next to us was completely mesmerized by our chaos paying attention, and the daughter jumped up and righted Worm before gravity kicked in.

She then knelt down between the boys, introduced herself as Elizabeth, and began talking to them as if she had known them forever. She talked to Worm about the drawing he had scribbled and complemented Huck on his cool hoodie. She ended up hanging out with the kids while I pulled up the car so my little princess Huck wouldn't get wet.

When we got home, I was soaked and starving. The boys settled in front of the TV with some fruit and yogurt (because they hadn't just EATEN A FULL MEAL OR ANYTHING) and I contemplated heating up my food. Instead I started the nightly straighten-up, get kids ready for bed routine.

I finally got Huck into bed at 7:35. Thirty-five minutes late, but it still felt like a triumph. As I kissed him good-night he said, "Dinner at the club was great!" I was incredulous and asked him for clarification. He responded, "The jelly on my sandwich was really good, it was neat watching the rain on the golf course, and we got to meet Elizabeth."

I promised him we would go back for dinner very soon. I am now officially the dumbest person on the planet.

So just call me Cleo

2009-05-08T12:43:00.006-05:00

Worm's second birthday party is this Saturday. My week has been a flurry of birthday errands and chores. One of my errands was to get a number candle for his cake.

I purchased two different candles on two different days from two different stores.

Why two candles? To be sure the candle doesn't clash with the cake.

Why the number one? Because I am Queen of Denial.

So have you ever been hit in the face with a swarm of ants?

2009-05-06T19:36:00.001-05:00

I have.

Tonight.

Twice.

Hundreds of mother-effing ants.

So how did I get to be the freak in this scenario?

2009-05-06T15:07:00.005-05:00

I've been on a quest for cheeseballs this week. They are surprisingly elusive.

Worm will be two-years-old on Thursday. His birthday party is Saturday afternoon. I want to have cheeseballs as a snack at his party because he loves the scene in Alvin and the Chipmunks where Alvin dives into a bowl of cheeseballs. He has never eaten them, but I feel certain he will be delighted with them.

Wal-Mart does not have cheeseballs. Target does not have cheeseballs. A local grocery chain called Harps does not have cheeseballs. What happened to the cheeseballs? Has there been a cheeseball recall I am ignorant of?

Today I tried Dollar General. This is not the type of store I usually choose for my food purchases. The atmosphere in your typical Dollar General wavers between and eerily bright and cheerlessly dank. There are lots of colorful items and toys and candy, but the overall quality of the offerings just makes me sad. However, I felt the likelihood of finding second rate snack foods there was high.

I only found a bag of those new Giant Cheetos Cheeseballs. The idea of giving kids cheeseballs the size of golf balls and then turning them loose on my furniture didn't appeal to me. Plus the jokes I would be forced to make about the size of Chester Cheetah's balls would be inappropriate for a child's party. I did find some party decorations though, so it wasn't a wasted trip.

It was when I got to the register, that the cheeseball quest took a turn I hadn't foreseen. I mentioned to the cashier that I was having a hard time finding anyone who carried cheeseballs. She said they did have cheeseballs on the bottom shelf of the chip section. I explained those were giant cheeseballs. She had no idea what I meant by giant, so I grabbed a bag for her to feel how big they are (I'm really not that busy, remember?). She took the bag from me and began to palpate the enormous balls (yes, I purposefully left out the word cheese to make that sentence dirty). It was then that I noticed her fingernails were at least three inches long.

I was disgusted, yet fascinated. Of course I asked if they were real. I knew they were, but forcing her to claim them felt vital to me at that moment. I said, "I bet you get asked that a lot." She said she did and then added that for one week she charged 25 cents to everyone who wanted to ask about her nails and then donated the money to the March of Dimes. I asked, "How much did you make?" She said, "$15.50, I must have answered 100 questions that week." I said, "62."

She looked at me like I was Rainman and said, "Really, seems like it should be more?" Then the guy behind me pulled up the calculator on his phone and confirmed that 62 was correct. He chimed in, "Wow, you did that in your head, are you some kind of math freak?"

How is knowing third grade math weirder than having fingernails that look like this?

By the way, someone told me Sam's carries cheeseballs. Stay tuned for a Worm goes to Sam's story tomorrow.

So I owe you an apology

2009-05-05T20:48:00.005-05:00

Apparently when I changed my layout, it did not carryover my sitemeter HTML. That means nothing to you. It means everything to me. Basically, it looked as if no one had visited my blog in four days. I've been vehemently cursing all of you for abandoning me.

Then I considered that I had gotten some comments on the blog, some personal emails that related to the blog and a comment on facebook. That's when I realized something was amiss, or, more specifically, missing.

Um, sorry for calling you a whore-dog mother effer ugly names. I really hope you don't develop ugly growths on your privates like I wished for hold it against me (okay, can't resist - I REALLY hope you don't hold it against me if you do develop those growths). It's not that I obsessively watch my traffic numbers and desperately try to figure out who is reading my stuff really care if you take a day or two off. It's just that four days left my anxiety ridden and slightly nauseated was a bit long.

So....

2009-05-05T12:10:00.007-05:00

Huck says to me "There are three things I'm good at: singing, dancing, and impressions." I say, "What about writing stories?" He says, "Oh yeah, make that four things."

Here's the deal. He's really only good at one of those things, but I'm not going to be the one to tell him. Words are his thing, he just hasn't realized it yet. He sees American Idol and Camp Rock and thinks that's his future. For me it was Star Search and Grease. I'm not sure when I realized that neither singing, dancing, nor acting were going to be part of my adult-life. It must not have been a tragic moment for me because my psyche bears no scars from shattered dreams or crushed aspirations. I only hope his plans for super-stardom slip away as gently as mine did.

Huck is the guy everyone likes. If you asked the kids in his class to name four people they're friends with, Huck would be on three-quarters of the lists. He's quiet, but not withdrawn. He's funny, but not a clown. He's smart, but not a know-it-all. In other words, he's not an asshole.

Being a non-asshole will bode well for him as he advances through the ranks of childhood, because he's not going to be an athlete either. If a kid is a great athlete, they can also get away with being an asshole. Wanna argue that? OJ Simpson anyone? I'm not saying there aren't nice-guy athletes and asshole non-athletes. I'm just saying athletic assholes historically get away with the assholeishness assholeosity assholeivity whatever, more often.

The time is approaching when his worth as a playmate will be measured by how far he can throw, how hard he can kick, and how fast he can run. Pretty soon the pecking order will be pounded out on the playground. My heart squeezes a little too hard every time I think about it.

I'm terrified he's going to land near the bottom. I pray that his intelligence, self-confidence and general likeabilty will even things out for him. I don't care that he can't sing, dance, impersonate, throw, kick, or run, but I'm not a seven year-old asshole either.

So the recession has hit our local eateries

2009-05-02T15:01:00.004-05:00

This is a large cheese dip. Really?

At least the drinks are still full sized!

So I should go to bed, but I need to get some stuff out of my head

2009-05-01T23:08:00.007-05:00

Here's some stuff I want to write about, but suspect I won't ever really get around to fleshing out these thoughts...

1. E-Rock had the audio clip from when I was in a band (I still think I didn't really count as a member, however, I have "outsider issues" about everything. ((Someday I might write an introspective post about those issues. (((Prepare to feel sorry for me. ((((Or to just laugh at me for being in my own head too much (((((Crap, I'm all off topic with my parentheses again.))))) and he emailed it to me. No, I will not be posting it here, but I will probably play it for Jo next time I see her. You CAN actually hear me singing on it, her ears might bleed.

2. Truck and I went to a baseball game tonight. We were invited to sit in a box or I wouldn't have agreed to go. I consumed some decent BBQ, two Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, and a beer. Then the game was called for rain. It was the greatest sporting event I have ever attended.

3. Truck and I had a conversation about our upcoming trip to Vegas. I expressed interest in seeing a particular show while we're there, but he nixed it because we are already seeing two shows. I pouted and said "I'm going to get a job and then plan a great trip somewhere and not even invite you to go." His eyes glazed over as soon as I said "I'm going to get a job". Then he drooled on his chin a little.

4. I saw a man a department store the other day rearranging a display of little girls panties. I really, really, really hope he worked there.

5. I found a CD that Huck used to love when he was 2, and now Worm loves it. I played it for Huck on the way home from school, but he said he didn't remember it. I told him that made me a little sad because one day Worm will outgrow the CD as well and then we will all eventually forget about how much we liked the silly little songs on it. Huck started to cry and said it made him sad too. He is such a softy. It's possible I am not his mother.

6. Then we had a conversation about how Jo is a softy too. Huck said she didn't "sound like a softy". I added that she doesn't look like a softy either. That girl is all muscle! I said she's such a softy she's actually part marshmallow. Huck then went off on a story about how you can eat Jo and then she grows back into herself in your stomach. It was weird and gross. I guess I am his mother after all.

6. Worm will only eat orange goldfish crackers. They make multi-colored ones, but he just picks out the orange ones. Does he think the purple, teal, and pink ones taste funny? What the hell could make those particular colors less desirable than orange fish shaped crackers with a generic cheese flavor? Maybe it's like the brown M&M thing. The brown ones are the actual color of chocolate so they are more "natural" than the colored ones. Maybe orange goldfish are more like actual goldfish and that makes them more appealing to him?

So Big E did not have my back tonight

2009-05-01T22:59:00.004-05:00

Dude, a guy threw Tootsie Rolls into the stands. Then he looked right at me and did that thing where you point at someone and then you point at your own eyes with two fingers. I swear it's true. I would so not make-up something like that just to entertain you.

So here is the final Considering Huck entry so I can take it down too

2009-05-01T14:25:00.000-05:00

Today, on the way to school Huck asks "What was the name of the 13th President of the United States?" I am politically and historically ignorant so I have to tell him I don't know. He replied "Well, found out and get back to me."

P.S. The answer is Millard Fillmore

P.P.S. I have never heard of number 21, Chester Arthur

P.P.P.S. Oh like you really have

So here is the Wormainian post so I can remove the side bar

2009-05-01T14:22:00.002-05:00

Pee-Pee = Pizza

Awng = Orange Juice

I pyea doh = I play with dogs. I played with dogs. I want to play with dogs (Worm likes dogs).

Boom = Watch out I am about to whack you really hard with whatever I am holding.

Bean = I see that you are eating beans. I will sit here and discuss them, but don't even think about feeding me one.

TOAST! = I would like to eat toast while you eat those disgusting beans.

BEAN! BEAN! = I don't want to go to bed. Lets revisit the bean tasting.

Meow = Milk

Num Num = Do you really need a translation for this one?

Cheez = cheese (duh!)

Cheez Cheez = no more cheese, please (a bit harder to figure out unless there is accompanying body laguage)

Bull = Balloon, blue or Little Bill, this kid is hard to understand out of context

Wii = I want to play wii or I want to watch you play wii (not hard to understand, but adorable because he says it with a Transylvanian accent, it comes out more like vee)

Yo = yo-yo, yogurt, yellow

Geen = anything green, red, orange or pink. How young can you diagnose color blindness? Or meanness, because he could be doing this just because he knows it makes me insane.

Pie = Spiderman.

Side = Outside, the only place Worm wants to be right now.

Foo = Shoe. It used to be Hoo. I am not sure why there has been a change unless he is putting shoe and foot together into one word. So, his vocabulary is evolving and it's still Wormainian instead of English.

I go poo = It's time to start potty training when your kid tells you this right before and right after he poops in his diaper.

Mama and Daddy = Again, pretty obvious, but noteworthy because of the "and"

Wine = He pronounces it vine (apparently he is a big vampire fan since the Twilight craze hit). He recognizes wine in a bottle, box, or glass.

Beer = He also recognizes beer, but only in bottles. I might be willing to drink box wine, but I am waaayyy too classy for beer in a can.

Ty = Tyler. This is what he calls all boys who are not Huck.

Girl = This is all girls, except the one he calls Ken.

Baby = This is what he calls himself and anyone who appears younger than him.

Kids = A group of boys and girls

Two = This is bouncing on my leg (see new video). I didn't get it at first (hear my confusion in video) because he used to say bounce. I guess he calls it two because I always count when I bounce him?

Town = I want to watch the Lazy Town video (Dear God why did I not throw that thing away when Huck outgrew it and how did Worm ever find it and fixate on it?).

It might be time to end the Wormanian column. He is saying so much now that I can't keep up. It is still a bit garbled, but so much easier to understand that I can't really consider it a foreign language anymore. If I take it down, I'll put it in a post for posterity....

So here's more stuff about me. I know you are giddy with anticipation.

2009-04-30T19:42:00.009-05:00

Another meme from facebook. This one is from Mrs. Big E. Thanks for the super easy blog post!

The ABCs of Me

A - Age: Chronologically - 35, Mentally - 12 year old boy
B - Bed size: King. Can't think of anything to add to this. No king-sized bed jokes forthcoming. I must be off my game tonight.
C - Chore you hate: Putting away laundry & dusting. Does anyone LIKE any chores? Do you want to come to my house & do the chore you just thought of?
D - Dog's names: No dogs right now. I don't want to wipe anything else right now. Butts, noses, spills & cat puke are enough wiping for me. Let's not add puppy puddles to the list. However, Worm really likes dogs. He crawled around Target this morning acting like a "dog-dog" complete with tail wagging and a weird sound that might have been barking (or choking).
E - Essential to start your day: Coffee & shower. I have an elaborate coffee routine. It takes some time, but is worth the wait 'cause I make great coffee.
F - Favorite color: I am not prejudiced for or against any color! Oh, you mean color of the rainbow... well then, I'll go with orange.
G - Gold or Silver: Gold, sliver, gemstones, cash. Whatever, dude.
H - Height: 5' 2&1/2". Yes, the 1/2" matters. A. Lot.
I - Instruments you play: Kazoo & plastic maracas. I'm doing a gig on the square this Saturday, you should come by and bail me out show your support!
J - Job title: Wiper (see D)
K - Kid(s): Um, did the job title not clarify that?
L - Living arrangements: Are better than dying arrangements.
M - Mom's name: Judy
N - Nicknames: No, thank you.
O - Overnight hospital stay other than birth: Does this mean my own birth or when I birthed my kids? I've had no overnight hospital stays that did not involve some sort of birth.
P - Pet Peeve: Chronic lateness & deception
Q - Quote from a movie: "You can't really dust for vomit"
R - Right or left handed: Right
S - Siblings: Jo is my sister-in-law, but I don't consider the in-law part.
T - Time you wake up: Ass crack of dawn.
U- Underwear: Wouldn't you like to know?
V - Vegetable you dislike: Brussels sprouts, but I'm an adventurous eater, maybe I should give them another try.
W - Ways you run late: I'm rarely late. If I am, it is because I had to do some unexpected wiping.
X- X-rays you have gotten: Teeth. Probably other parts too, but nothing comes to mind. I'm not often sick or injured.
Y - Yummy food you make: Everything I make is yummy because I took the time to make it, dammit! "You are not getting up from this table until you have finished that meat!" Had to throw in another movie quote.

So Worm and I are All-Stars!

2009-04-30T15:58:00.002-05:00

So I got called out

2009-04-30T12:00:00.012-05:00

The other day I wrote that I had never been in a band.

I lied.

My friend, E-Rock (because he does rock ((not to be confused with Big E, who is, in fact, a big guy (((Banana, however, is not a banana ((((did I ever mention that I really suck at giving nicknames and now wish I had just used everyone's real names (((((I heart parentheses))))), had a band in high school called The Front. I was his girlfriend at the time, so I got to sing back-up in the battle of the bands.

He sent me an email today reminding me of this fact.

For the record, I wasn't trying to be evasive about my past as a back-up singer for a high school rap group. Seriously, I have way bigger things from my past to be evasive about. Hell, I have stuff from my present that probably should be more evasive about. Um, yeah.

Honestly, I wasn't sure if it counted because I sing so badly that I didn't actually sing above a whisper during the entire performance. Technically, I just stood on stage and mouthed "If you want, you got it. If you want it, baby, you got it."

Also, there were two other girls with me who actually sang well AND choreographed some dance moves. I stood there while they danced. Yup, just stood there.

So, does standing on stage while people around you perform count as being in a band? I think not, but it was his band and he said yes, so...

30. Been in a band? Yes. In high school I sang back-up in a rap group called The Front. They were talented, I was not.

Happy now, E-Rock?

Please DO NOT dig up the audio tapes as proof.

However, if a video ever surfaces, I would pay BIG money to see it. We're talking tens of dollars here.

Hey, it's a recession.

One last thing... here is a link to the Bust a Move video. I just watched it about 6 times in a row and it keeps getting better. Come on, Flea in stuffed animal pants!

Okay, one more thing... the song Bust a Move is also in the movie 17 Again and it actually made it on the soundtrack. How did Underdog by Spoon not make it on the soundtrack, but Cherish & Danger Zone did? People would really rather listen to this & this over this?

Alright, this really is the last thing. Does anyone know to put a link on my blog (such as the Bust a Move video, or the song Underdog) without actually navigating away from the blog? I hate that you have to leave to go to my links. I know you hate it too because you never want to leave me, right? Right? RIGHT?

So I had to pull out the big guns at Wal-Mart

2009-04-27T12:31:00.004-05:00

It's Monday, time for a Wal-Mart story!

Seriously, do any of you just go in, shop, and leave and never have anything funny or weird happen to you? How sad for you.

Anyway, in light of these economic times, I have been taking a few coupons with me when I shop. Nothing major, just saving a few bucks on items I would buy even without coupons.

My favorite coupon is on 8 o'clock coffee. It's very good for grocery store coffee, and for the past few months they have been printing a $1.00 coupon inside the bag. So, I always save $1.00 on the coffee I would buy anyway. Its a no-brainer.

However, Wal-Mart's computers do not like this coupon. I think maybe the oils from the coffee beans mess with the scanner or something. The cashier always has to manually override this coupon to get it to go through. They all know the 8 o'clock coffee coupon will do this. It's never been an issue, until today.

Today, I got a newbie. It was very important to her that she follow the rules. So, when the coupon wouldn't go through, she dug through my cart and pulled out the bag of coffee to double check that the coupon and item matched. I was fine with all of this, she has to learn her job somehow. Plus, I'm really not that busy.

Anyway, there was a manager nearby (not the molester) and he came over to see what the hold up was about. She told him that the computer didn't like my coupon, but now that she had seen the item, she was going to override it.

Well, Mr. I AM THE MANAGER decided he should check it out for himself. He exams the coupon and the bag of coffee and says, "Well your bag of coffee says 'Save $1.00 on your NEXT purchase' so you will have to bring the coupon back next time."

I scream, "Are you a fucking MORON?" (in my head)

I politely say, "There's a coupon inside every bag of that coffee. This coupon is from my LAST purchase, so that bag IS my next purchase."

He says, "We have to be extra careful. Manufacturers are really cracking down on what they reimburse us for. If we override coupons that aren't valid, that's a lot of loss for the company."

I say, "I spend $150 to $200 in this store every week. If I go to another store, that's a lot of loss for you personally."

He says, "Override the coupon."

I know it was a "principle of the matter" thing, but still, I argued with a man who gets his raises in twenty-five cent increments over a $1.00 off on an item that I would buy even without a coupon.

Am I pathetic or just really, really bored?

So I think Jo is reading the blog now

2009-04-26T22:25:00.001-05:00

Well, are you?

So no one expects the Spanish Inquisition.

2009-04-26T20:30:00.005-05:00

My cousin, Nessercakes, tagged me in this meme on facebook. I figured if I was going to put the effort into answering it, I might as well make it a blog post. Plus the blog fodder is still light around here. My family is acting utterly normal, they suck.

1. Kissed any one of your facebook friends? Yup (Hi, Sean Harrell (Now all my other fb friends are going to go look at your picture))

2. Been arrested? No, not ever close.

3. Kissed someone you didn't like? Well, I liked him at first.

4. Slept in until 5 PM? No, I've always been an early bird. However, before I had kids I liked to get up, eat breakfast, read the paper and then go back to sleep for a few more hours. Man, I would love to do that again some day.

5. Fallen asleep at work/school? Yes, at work, but I was pregnant, so that hardly counts.

6. Held a snake? Sure, creepy crawlies aren't my brand of angst.

7. Ran a red light? Yes, once I made a left turn on a red light.

8. Been suspended from school? Nope, I was a good girl in school.

9. Totaled your car/motorbike in an accident? No. But I this one time I was late and the drawbridge was closing so I totally jumped it. Oh, that didn't really happen? Man, my dreams have been realistic lately.

10. Been fired from a job? No. I am a kick-ass employee. However, I foresee me getting fired from a future job because my boss finds the blog.

11. Sang karaoke? Yes, but I barely remember it. Don't even remember what I sang. Were any of you there? Can you flesh out this memory for me?

12. Do you like amusement rides that spin real fast in circles? Excuse me while I puke. Seriously, dude, if I you drive too swervy into the driveway I get dizzy. If I am in an office chair and you bump it, I will get motion sickness. I can't even swing on a swing-set without feeling a bit lightheaded.

13. Ever peed in the pool? Sure, what do you do when you have to go at the pool? Oh, you get out and go to the bathroom? Have you ever seen the bathroom at a public pool? I'll take my chances with swimming through a little urine, thanks. Side note to the membership committee at The Club. I have never peed in your pool and I know for a fact that your bathrooms are very nice. I promise not to pee in your pool. Please do not revoke our membership before I have a chance to completely piss (ha! I made a pun) you off and really embarrass myself. My readers are counting on some funny shit this summer and I was hoping you would figure into it pretty heavily. Side note to Truck. Just kidding, babe, I will totally wait until winter when the golf sucks before I get us kicked out.

14. Done something you told yourself you wouldn't? Got back together with the guy from question number 3. Man, he was a moron, what was I thinking? In my defense, I was in high school and no one had ever begged me to come back to them. It was kind of intoxicating (for like a week, then I remembered why I dumped him in the first place).

15. Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose? No, it's hard to make me laugh out loud.

16. Caught a snowflake on your tongue? Sure. I also used to love to eat icicles until my husband told me that was like drinking untreated water off the ground. Thanks for ruining that simple pleasure for me.

17. Kissed in the rain? I'm going with yes, but I can't remember a specific incident. What a sad thing to be unsure of.

18. Sang in the shower? Yeah, but I sound like Susan Boyle looks.

19. Sat on a rooftop? Yes. Climbed out on to a rooftop, yes. Jumped off a rooftop, yes.

20. Have you ever flipped someone the bird while driving? No.

21. Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes? No. But maybe I can work it into my summer antics.

22. Broken a bone? No.

23. Shaved your head? No.

24. Blacked out from drinking? No. Wow, my answers are suddenly very lame.

25. Played a prank on someone? Not ever a full on prank. I like to do silly, unexpected things to make people laugh, but a prank implies some level of meanness and I'm not mean-spirited.

26. Ever puked when someone talked you into trying a food you knew you wouldn't like? No.

27. Felt like killing someone? No.

28. Made your girlfriend/boyfriend cry? Yes. Thanks for making me feel like a shit, facebook meme.

29. Can you run more than a mile without stopping? Is there a lunatic with a bloody axe in this scenario?

30. Been in a band? No... didn't I clarify that I look more like Susan Boyle than sound like her. For reals, I cannot sing. At. all.

31. Shot a gun? Yes, I live in Arkansas.

32. Tripped on mushrooms? Well, I am clumsy. Oh, you mean MUSHROOMS.... still a no. Again, I'll make a note for my summer of fun.

33. Donated Blood? Once, never again.

34. Eaten alligator meat? I live in Arkansas, not Louisiana.

35. Eaten cheesecake? Yes, but it's a last resort dessert for me. Right below creme brulee, but still beats out the selection of homemade sorbets. I go for tiramisu or anything with the words chocolate ganache in the description.

36. Still love someone you shouldn't If loving P. Diddy is wrong, I don't want to be right. Oops, sorry Truck, I never meant for you to find out.

37. Think about the future? Yes, where is my flying car and robo-dog?

38. Believe in Love? Yes, P. Diddy, I do.

39. Sleep on a certain side of the bed? Whichever side will get the least light. Lights keep me awake.

40. Faked liking someone? Yes, and I am very good at it. You think I like you, right?

So I got nothin'

2009-04-24T21:26:00.003-05:00

This week has been pretty light on blog fodder.

I thought I might have a good post last night because Huck had a field trip to a farm yesterday. I expected him to come home with a funny story or odd detail that only he would notice. Nope, all he had to say about the field trip was it wasn't as fun as he thought it would be because it was all indoors. He also added that it smelled so bad by the horses he gagged a little. I would have bet money that the pigs or chickens made him gag, but horses? Gagging at horses seemed kinda wussy to me. Not that stables smell good, but have you ever smelled a chicken coop or pig sty?

Anyway, because he completely failed me, I am going to tell you a story about him from years ago that would have made the blog had it existed at the time.

Huck is normally the best behaved child ever. However, there was this one time at band camp the mall, when he was three, that made me want to crawl in a hole.

Let me start with a disclaimer. I rarely spank Huck. I am not pro spanking or anti spanking, I just don't care for it personally. Kind of like broccoli. But he went through a phase where the threat of a spanking seemed to really get his attention. And lets face it, when they are three years old, discipline is mostly about getting their attention.

So we were in a clothing store and he was running around and hiding in the hanging clothes. I hate when kids do that. I told him he could play, but he had to stay away from the racks. After the second or third time of pulling him out of the clothes, I bent down to his level and very quietly said, "If you don't stay out of the clothes, I am going to pull your pants down in the middle of this store and spank you."

Huck then proceeded to pull his own pants down in the middle of the store, slap his own ass and say, "Are you going to do it to me like this, Mama?"

So robots are satanic?

2009-04-24T12:01:00.004-05:00

A good God did not create robots.

HUNH?

This is the uplifting spiritual message a local church has chosen to share with my community.

For the life of me, I cannot figure out what they have against robots.

So I shook it off

2009-04-22T15:34:00.003-05:00

Literally.

I didn't put Add it Up on repeat. I yelled along with it and then Shake It by Metro Station came on. So, I was compelled to dance around like an idiot.

The dancing made me feel better.

Next, I did a meaningless chore. I cleaned the strip of plastic at the bottom of our shower door that keeps water from splashing out. You cannot actually see this strip of plastic unless you lie on the bathroom floor in front of our shower. I would bet money that I am the only person in my home who realizes this piece of plastic a) is was dirty, b) exists.

Finally, I fixed myself the ultimate comfort food: a big glass of broken Saltine crackers covered in milk. I know it sounds disgusting, but I love it.

I'm all better now.

So I have to add it up

2009-04-22T10:56:00.017-05:00

I stopped watching the news when Huck was a newborn. I was home nursing my precious boy one afternoon, when I saw a story about a man who slit his baby's throat. His motive was that the child had changed his relationship with his wife too much. He also added that the baby boy smiled at him before he slit his throat. I was so angry at the local news station for adding that last bit of info. I actually put my baby down and went to throw up when I heard it. Then I didn't put my baby down for several hours after that. Every time I tried, I would start to shake. I still get nauseated and teary when I think about it and that was 6 years ago. I hate to cry (and puking isn't my favorite pastime either ((neither is uncontrollable shaking)), so I don't watch the news anymore. Yes, I am very head-in-the-sand about things. Whatever, I have to cope somehow, and blinders have gotten me this far.

But now I have to stop surfing the net too. I can't get away from the horrible news stories about men who are killing themselves and their families. Why would you kill your family because you made poor financial choices? That is not the decision a real man makes. Ever.

Yes, your family will loose everything. They will be ashamed and angry and possibly hate you, but they will be alive.

A real man would not take his family with him. He would allow his wife and kids to live with shame, and hate him forever, but live all the same.

Of course there's the argument that a good man might not get in a situation that dire in the first place, but I'm not judging that part of it. Good people make really horrible financial decisions all the time. Bad people murder their families.

There is also the idea that anyone who would do such a thing had to be quite mentally unstable. Yes, there is that element with all suicide. But this is not suicide, it is murder. Premeditated at that, you can't kill three people and yourself in a hotel room without a pretty elaborate plan.

To all other men considering familicide: Go ahead and kill yourself if you want to, but leave your wife and kids out of it. It looks like they will be better off without you anyway.

Yuck, I have to shake this off. I hate feeling sad and angry. At least I have the motivation I was looking for.

I am going to put this song on repeat. Most people just remember the beginning of the song because the lyrics are shocking (well, they were in the early 80's anyway), but the second half of the song is resonating with me today. "Don't shoot shoot shoot that thing at me."

Plus, I know all the words and can sing it really loud while I do some mind-numbing chore.

So I need someone to come kick my ass

2009-04-22T09:33:00.004-05:00

Worm is with Grandpa.

I should go to the school and do the PTA budget, but, yuck.

I should reorganize the pantry, but, blah.

I should read a good book, but, meh.

I'm going to sit on the bed, surf the net, and listen to Spoon and Vampire Weekend.

I'm currently listening to this song. I liked it way before it was in the movie 17 Again. Just sayin'.

If you live near me, will you please come over and kick my ass so I can get up and accomplish something today?

So worm left me a present

2009-04-21T13:21:00.003-05:00

Just when you think your day is going to be exactly like every other day, you find a bowl of cheese in your shower.