Pardon My Blog

Quote This - Bridesmaids

2012-01-22T22:38:00.004-06:00

I've glimpsed my future while watching Bridesmaids last weekend. I am Rita.

"The other night I'm slaving away making a beautiful dinner for my family, my youngest boy comes in and says he wants to order a pizza. I said no, we're not ordering pizza tonight. He goes, mom why don't you go and fuck yourself! He's nine!" -Rita, Bridesmaids

How 'bout I Do What?

2012-01-20T18:19:00.000-06:00

Aidan's said some dumb shit in his seven years on Earth. He's still alive so ya know, I'm like Mother of the Year, right? Just minutes ago he upped the ante on the Um, what did you just say to me? scale. I am folding laundry - freshly out of the dryer, I might add - when he asks if he can help. He folds exactly one towel, one washcloth and paired up some socks. When we were all done I hand him his stack of clothes to put away and he gives me attitude. So when he was done I handed him the kitchen towels to put away and he gives me more attitude. So when he finished that I handed him the pile of towels and washcloths for the downstairs bathroom and he temporarily loses his sanity, stomps away and snarls...

Why do I have to put everything away?!?! How about you do some work, hu?

And then he ran. Because he knew. And I didn't raise a complete fool.

Inny Minny Miney Moe

2012-01-18T11:51:00.000-06:00

We bought the Altima in mid-December. It's mid-January, the payment is due in 10 days and we still don't have a statement to pay it. So yesterday I call the bank the dealership financed us through and they have no damn idea who we are - no paperwork, no loan, nada. This morning I call the dealership. Here goes that conversation...

I started out perfectly calm and reasonable. We bought a car last month, financed through XX Bank but they don't have our loan or any paperwork on us.

Immediately comes the 'tude from Dealership Douche. Who told you you were financed through XX Bank?

And then my 'tude rears it's head. Um, YOU did. Also, the paperwork from YOU says XX Bank.

Dealership Douche adds defensive to the 'tude. Well, we don't benefit from telling you that you're financed through one bank and then financing you through another.

And in my head I'm thinking You're about to be in way over your head, tiger. But instead I say I'm just telling you what we were told and what our paperwork says.

Then Dealership Douche adds to the 'car salesmen are full of shit' stereotype by saying Just because it's on the paperwork doesn't mean anything. We can put anything randomly on that.

After giving him ample time to retract that statement I retort Really. I'm not sure what to do with that information. It's not exactly comforting. Do you think you could tell me who you randomly financed us through so I can make the damn payment?

For crying out loud! I mean this is all well and good for blog material but really... My whole life is a series of shit that happens to most people like twice in their lifetimes.

Planning Ahead

2012-01-14T18:19:00.001-06:00

"Be polite, be professional, but have a plan to kill everyone you meet."

L Is For Loyalty

2012-01-11T04:00:00.000-06:00

Last year when I was all pissed that Asher didn't get into preschool I was text-ranting to my friend, Krista, about Asher seriously needing preschool The kid only knows one letter, E, and about 49% of the time he calls out B when he sees it. Meanwhile Skinny Bitch's boys are pointing to the magnet letters on my fridge saying 'G is for Grey, C is for Cat, M is for Mom'... They're 2! Krista responds Yeah well S is for Show-off. He'll get in next year. And that, friends, is why I heart Krista. She's always on my side.

Probably Not What He Had In Mind

2012-01-10T04:00:00.000-06:00

I figure the Sexy Beast, like every other man on the planet, has the menage a trois fantasy. And me, being the best wife in the universe, am about to make that fantasy a reality. You see, I have what can only be described as another person developing just under the skin on my forehead. Certainly by the time we get busy again it will in fact qualify as another entity, therefore deeming that encounter a threesome. Bam! Best wife ever! Now to convince the Sexy Beast that this scenario and the one percolating in his head since he was 13 are one and the same. I'll let you know how that goes...

I've Really Got It Rough

2012-01-08T04:00:00.000-06:00

The Sexy Beast kicked me out of my Jeep. Something about a Hemi, my lead foot, and $200 a week in gas... Whatever, I was just keeping up with the other traffic on the road. It was determined that since there is no chance in hell that we will add more children to our clan, I do not require a vehicle that seats eight to drive two small heathens to and from school, sporting events, and meetings with probation officers. Okay, we're not scheduled with a probation officer yet but it's not out of the realm of possibility. So now the Sexy Beast is driving my beloved Jeep and me? I got this.

A Nissan Altima. I love her! And she loves me. Yes, my car tells me she loves me, I heard her. The best thing though? I got her a week before Christmas and I've gotten gas ONCE. Granted, we were out of town for a week and she was left all alone in the cold, dark garage and therefore not driven but still! Once. $40. Okay, so maybe kicking me out of the Jeep was a sound financial decision. Maybe.

They Started It

2012-01-06T04:00:00.000-06:00

I got a letter from the School Attendance Nazi's right before Christmas break. It said...

Dear Parent,
Aidan has missed two days of school and left early two times. Keep in mind our attendance policy. After five absences a meeting will be scheduled with the principal to discuss the issue. After seven absences we will notify the prosecuting attorney who will order your public execution in the city square.
Sincerely,
School Attendance Nazis

Or some such shit. As I look at this letter I am thinking about how in the month of January alone a total of six potential school days will be missed due to the school closing for one reason or another. So I plan on sending them a letter on February 1 that will say something like this.

Dear School Attendance Nazis,
Aidan and the rest of the student body have missed six days of school this semester. Note: We are merely 30 days into said semester. Please keep in mind your performance relating to your attendance policy the next time you find yourself typing up a shame-on-you letter to me because my kid was sick for two days and was checked out a half an hour before dismissal twice in one semester. You're not the only ones keeping track.
Sincerely,
Amanda

I'll Make Your Resolutions For You

2012-01-05T00:28:00.001-06:00

I've decided that my kids, the dog, and my husband for that matter, need some direction in making their New Year's Resolutions.

First on the list? Asher and Aidan. Boys, in 2012 you will learn to pee INTO the toilet rather than ONTO it. I swear on my laptop I will let that bathroom morph into the hazardous material dumping ground it teeters on the edge of becoming on every day except the days I take it upon myself to don a gas mask and go in with no regard for my own well-being. Next time I see this?

I will... You will... It will be... Just don't piss all over the toilet anymore, okay?

Now, Sexy Beast, I actually had to look for something to create a resolution for you about because, well, you get off pretty easy here on the ol' blog and frankly it's your turn. Also, you're darn near perfect. So, sweetie, in 2012 I resolve for you to clear your mind of the delusion that the space between your bedside table and the wall is a closet. It also is not a clothes hamper.

And no, I do to wish to discuss the various places in which my randomly discarded clothing ends up. This is neither the time nor the place for that nonsense.

And finally, Brody. Oh Brody. I could understand if you believed yourself to be a Chihuahua based on how you try to crawl up into the laps of little old ladies and small children. I could even understand if you were under the impression that you were a human considering how you flop your big, black ass on the couch like you own this joint. What I am confused by is where you got the idea that you were a cat. Why do I think that you might think that you are a cat? Well, it's the only reason I can come up with as to why you try to cover up your shit with grass and two inches of soil from the yard. The yard that we pay a service an uncomfortable fee to keep looking respectable. Covering up your shit is a cat thing. I would think being a cat would be the very thing a dog would not want to be. So stop being a cat, will ya?

I Truly Don't Know What I'm Doing

2012-01-03T08:36:00.001-06:00

I'm here, I'm moving to a new place, I'm back here, I'm quitting all together... I can't even keep up with myself. All this shit started when I got fed up with certain people checking up on me here allthefuckingtime but otherwise staying absent in my life. It's such a huge, incredibly fucked up yet infantile story full of misunderstandings and realizations and hurt feelings and stubbornness that even here, where I will pretty much say anything regardless of it's appropriateness, I'm just not going to get into. I just wanted completely away from them because I loathe the very thought of them. But now it's 2012 and I'm gonna try that whole forgive and forget thing. However, in my forgive and forget, I forgive them and forget they exist. I'm not even mad anymore, I just don't give a shit and I'm not changing how I write or what I write or where I write because of those jackasses.

So now that I said all that, I don't have to move but I still kinda want to. The issue is for all the simplicity at my new place - no ads, no fancy designs, etc... it may be too simple. For instance, no comments. Which at first I was all for because Whew, away with one more way of measuring my bloggy shortcomings. You guys though? You're all WTF, Amanda, why can't I comment? What is this bullshit? And I'm all Oh, NOW you wanna comment, hu? Where were your comments the past few months? You have yet to respond so that ends that convo.

Yeah, I don't know what I'm doing but I'm here now and there now and where I'll end up? I don't know. If I do move and you want to know where and you leave a comment here asking where I am and you don't have an email address for me to tell you where I am how would you like me to proceed? Posting the new place here will kind of defeat the purpose of hiding from stalkers, yes? I'm pretty awesome but a mind reader I am not.

2011-12-16T10:31:00.000-06:00

*blows dust off* You guys still there?

This really has been the longest I've not blogged in about four years. That's like eternity in blog-time.

I've got some posts in my head but they'll likely go to my new home. Because I moved elsewhere in the internet. If you want to visit me there and if I want you to visit me there, we'll be in touch. If you're the few people I'm trying to purge from my life, well, neener neener neener!

Secrets To Hosting Thanksgiving Dinner

2011-11-23T23:09:00.001-06:00

You might think a girl who was hosting Thanksgiving dinner for eleven in 17 hours with not a pie, casserole, or pan of rolls prepared would be up late getting on that but if that girl is me, well, you'd be dead wrong. My house is a wreck, the laundry is piled up, a quarter of the dishes in the whole kitchen are dirty but I needed a new mix cd so I chose to get on that. And now here I sit blasting my new tunes in my ears and blogging, still not getting anything done. Except for blogging.

Domesticity is not a great talent of mine but you can bet your candy ass I'll pull tomorrow off brilliantly because what I am good at is performing well under pressure. Also, faking it.

Truth be told, I'm really not responsible for much tomorrow. The Sexy Beast is in charge of the turkey - we fry our birds 'round here - so he'll be hiding in the garage with Opa "monitoring" the turkey for roughly four hours... which is odd because it only takes an hour to cook. Wonder what that's all about? *snicker* Kid sister is making the obligatory green bean casserole and mashed potatoes and gravy. I offered to take care of the potatoes but apparently instant mashed potatoes aren't good enough for some people. Snobs! My mom is making something like thirteen pies, a sweet potato casserole, stuffing, and no doubt three different salads. Can we say 'show off', boys and girls? I'm really not sure the person responsible for the ham has been appointed to his/her duty as of yet but here's hoping it's not me because what I know about baking a ham is a non-measurable amount.

What I am responsible for is my mom's famous refrigerator potato rolls. Wait, their official name is "my mom's famous refrigerator rolls' so why, pray tell, am I making them? True story - I got our Kitchen Aid mixer out to make the dough earlier this week and I swear on my laptop Asher scolded me saying "Hey! Why you messin' with Daddy's tools?!?!" Clearly I don't do much cooking/baking, little punk ass!

Okay, back on topic: I also will be whipping up two pumpkin pies, a corn casserole, and a batch of dumplin's. Throughout all of this I will be guided by the infamous mother-in-law recipes. You know, the kind of recipes with instructions such as 'two pinches of ginger', 'a sprinkle of cinnamon', 'a dab of sour scream' pretty much assuring that I will royally fuck something up? Yeah, those. Fun times.

My Grandma is coming and I told her dinner was at 5pm. If you tell my Grandmother she is eating at 5pm and there is no food ready to eat at 5pm... There better damn well be food ready at 5pm. She may be a sweet old gal who works tirelessly to abolish the death penalty but she's got no problem doling out a good whack with her cane to get shit back on track.

Who Trains Wal-Mart Cashiers?

2011-11-15T04:00:00.000-06:00

Dear Idiot Wal-Mart Cashier,

Something to keep in mind if I come through your check outline next time. Cut the small talk, mkay? For real, I won’t be offended if wejust complete this process without polite, or in this case – impolite,conversation.

You asked the question, Do you have kids?

And I replied - What tipped you off – the dinosaur shaped chicken nuggetsand Danimals or the fucking preschooler in the cart? Um, yes, yes I do havechildren.

Then you asked - Are any of them still at home?

And after a moment to see if you were joking - Good God, woman! You mean besides the preschooler thatshould have tipped you off to the fact that I had children in the first damnplace? Yeah, I still have kids at home. How fucking old do you think I am? Areyou trying to get jack-slapped?

Next came this gem from you - Microwave French fries? Don’t you like homemade?

And it was all I could do not to throttle you so I replied - Oh for fuck sake! Did you miss the part where we establishedthat I have kids? Yeah, I do like homemade but the kids prefer quick as opposedto made with love by Mama so them’s the breaks, Little Miss I’m 17 So I Think IKnow Everything About Everything But Somehow I Don’t Know I’ve Insulted My Customer16 Times During This Conversation?

Seriously, stop talking to me before you really screw up and ask me when I'm due and whether I'm having a boy or a girl. Before you inquire as to when I had my sex change. Before you r e a l l y go too far.

Sincerely,

The Woman Who Had Every Right To Wring Your Scrawny Neck

That's Gross

2011-11-14T03:30:00.000-06:00

We have a small Jack Vettriano print in our kitchen. This one, in fact...

My nephew Jayden looked at it this weekend and said Aunt Amanda, is that real?

Me - What? The picture?

Jayden - Yeah. Those people *scrunched up nose* kissing.

Me - Well, it's just a painting.

Jayden - So that's not you and Uncle X?

Me - No, it's not us.

Jayden - Oh good cuz that's really pretty gross.

If I Was The Complete Package

2011-11-13T04:00:00.000-06:00

Skinny Bitch and I were smack talking the other day about how incredibly unfair it is that some people get to be Trump-style rich, Skinny Bitch skinny, Heidi Klum beautiful, Tina Fey funny and *insert famous genius* smart. We are both of the opinion that it's a total crock of shit for one person to get to be all of those things when most of us are lucky to get a two-fer combo. Upon further consideration I think in my case, God knew better than to bestow too many blessings on me and here's why I feel that way. I can be a little... um, how should I put this... much. I can be a little much. Hell, I bow up and get all cocky after a good run. If I were rich AND beautiful AND skinny AND funny I would be impossible to be around. I would be absolutely, unbearably obnoxious. You wouldn't be able to tell me a damn thing, I would be terrible! I know this with every fiber of my Amanda-ness. Hey, at least I'm honest. And God, if at any point you'd like to throw one or two more of those pesky attributes my way, well, who am I do question You?

Phobia Runs In The Family

2011-11-10T03:00:00.000-06:00

I think I've written before about my odd phobias. Balloons - the rubber ones - China, Oprah Winfrey, trees growing out of water... There are a few. My mother can't really talk about the vastness of the universe without at some point putting her hands over her ears and humming so as to drown out the taunting from her beloved daughters, Kid Sister and myself. We're truly a blessing in her life, I tell ya.

Speaking of Kid Sister... she's afraid of escalators and split level homes. I know! It's absurd. You go to a multi-level mall or airport or store and get ready to take the stairs because that brat cannot make herself ride an escalator. We've only just discovered this split-level home phobia. The neighborhood Asher's school is in is full of 1980's split levels like this

And she cannot stand to be near them! Something about half in the ground, half out and creeping her out. It's hysterical! So, being the supportive big sister I am, every time I take Asher to school I snap a picture of one of them and send it to her phone. I truly am a blessing in her life. Hee hee hee.

Wordless Wednesday - Halloween

2011-11-09T03:00:00.000-06:00

Me and The Three SB's

2011-11-08T21:40:00.000-06:00

Me, the Sexy Beast, Skinny Bitch and Skinny Bastard ran the Beer & Bagel 4 Mile Trail Run this past Suday. And survived. Well, it was always expected that the Skinny B's would survive because they're both freak running people but the Sexy Beast and I? Not so much. I had run 425 miles this year when I crossed the starting line, the Sexy Beast - oh, about 22 miles. The son of a bitch crossed the finish line one second before me. Men suck!

Brag time - this year that course was absolutely designed by terrorists. I know for damn sure it was longer - by at least a 1/2 mile. And the hills - oh my God, what did I ever do to those people? Also, three creek crossings? In November? Nice. Still, I came in twelve minutes faster than last year. So I pretty much kicked it's ass. And today I pretty much can't walk.

Call Me A Mommy Blogger, I Dare You

2011-11-04T21:09:00.000-05:00

I hate to write yet another post about the horrors of the drop off/pick up line at school. It just screams 'mommy blog' and you know how I feel about that label. But, fuck it, I'm writing it anyway cuz it's pissin' me off.

Believe it or not I generally keep pretty calm in that little cul de sac from hell. I do! I've seen other parents do some dumb shit. Daily. But the teachers are probably a new target in this scenario. Look, I imagine line duty isn't a favorite part of a teacher's day. I mean really, six hours locked in a building with 300 elementary school kids? There is not enough medication in this universe, mkay? Then there's the little matter of the fact that teachers are not traffic directors. They clearly have not had so much as a conversation with a traffic director either. They suck at it! So I've made it my mission to explain a couple dos and don'ts of directing traffic in the school drop off/pick up line for those poor teachers.

Do not wave each hand in a different direction while looking at me wondering why I don't know what you want me to do. I'm assuming by the waving that you want me to move my car but do I follow your left or right hand? I'm not a fucking mind reader!

Do pay attention to your fellow line duty teachers. Read on to understand why.

Do not pull a child in front of my moving vehicle to take him/her to their parent's vehicle in the far lane. I am trying to read your coworker's fucking mind and therefore not watching you try to kill one of your students. And when you do step out in front of me and I slam on my brakes and give you a look that says Teachers are supposed to be smart so why the sam fuck did you just step out in front of me?!?! don't look around like it's not YOU I'm taking issue with.

Whatever you do, DO NOT wave me forward and simultaneously walk your pansy ass in front of my car because beyond the Teachers are supposed to be smart so why the sam fuck did you just step out in front of me look I might just throw the Jeep in park, roll down my window and scream Really, right now?!?! Ya know, because I've been watching Jersey Shore lately.

You Know She's A BFF When...

2011-10-25T03:00:00.000-05:00

...she gets you a voodoo doll as a souvenir from N' Awlin's which is the correct pronunciation of the city's name. Need I write another tutorial?

photo from voodoo-king.com

Yes, the Skinny Bitch bought me my very own voodoo doll and all I can say is Um, I need like 16 more of these. I carry many grudges. And also, I love you, Skinny Bitch. Unless I'm hyperventilating while running. Then? Not so much.

Yay, Yeah, and Yea - There's A Difference

2011-10-24T10:51:00.000-05:00

It's time for another tutorial in understanding what is written in this blog. Yay is pronounced like 'hay' with a y at the beginning, like Yay, you got me soap on a rope. Again. Yeah is pronounced like... well I can't think of a rhyming word but instead of saying 'yes' you say 'yeah' like Yeah, I heard you the first sixteen times you made that joke. Then there is Yea which I never use because when I see 'yea' I think 'tea' with a y at the beginning and what the hell does that mean? Then I have to read and reread the sentence to get some context to figure out what the person is trying to say and all that extra work could be avoided if the writer would just follow the simple rules of Yay, Yeah and Yea as I have set them. These words are not interchangeable, they are not synonyms, they are homonyms and I just had to google that so take this seriously, please. When I write 'yeah' or 'yay' you are to pronounce it in your head the correct way so as to interpret my words and thoughts the way I mean for you to. Gawd, I hate it when I don't control e v e r y t h i n g in the universe!

Class dismissed.

There's Really Nothing Wrong With Cheating

2011-10-21T03:00:00.000-05:00

I'm falling behind in my reading and it's all my iPhone's fault. Well, perhaps the blame can be shared evenly between iPhone and the Words With Friend app. In case you are my mother who refuses to get a smart phone, you probably know Words With Friends is online Scrabble. And I'm addicted. I've hit my maximum number of open games and I haven't played Angry Birds in 4 days. That's addiction, baby.

One sad side effect of this is that my I can't fucking stand to lose-ness comes out. After getting my ass handed to me a few times I started cheating. Yeah yeah yeah, you bet your candy ass I started cheating. I was losing like 350 to 96. The kind of losing that's just not funny. So if you're playing me I'll let you know how to tell when I'm cheating. When I throw down words like caducei it's safe to say I'm plugging those letters into A2ZWordFinder.com. When my big comeback to your ossify is pay, well, I'm probably sitting at Aidan's school waiting to pick him up. And that's just the truth, folks. It's really not all that bad I mean I'm expanding my vocabulary not selling nuclear secrets, mkay?

I would like to note that thermic and iridic, those were both all me, thankyouverymuch.

Happy Anniversary To Me

2011-10-19T03:00:00.000-05:00

Yes, one year ago this week I started running. Three weeks later I ran my first race, Beer and Bagel. And in three weeks I'll be running it again. Maybe. I'm already getting nauseous when I think about it. More on that later. So what did I do to celebrate one year of running? I got hit by a car.

Yes, during my run yesterday afternoon I got hit by a fucking car, y'all! Actually an SUV but that's neither here nor there. Skinny Bitch, are you reading this? Need I tell you AGAIN that this running shit is going to KILL me?

A little over a mile into my run, I'm on the corner of a road with no sidewalk just kinda there on the side of the road waiting to cross, and a car that had been waiting to turn finally turns and the DUMB FUCKING IDIOT BITCH behind him is staring down at her iPhone and ever so slowly makes her turn INTO ME. I punched the hood of her truck and I swear on my laptop, bitch didn't even look up. In fact there is zero evidence to suggest that she ever realized she committed a hit and run. She just kept driving up the road Probably still playing Words With Friends. And I finished my run. Which, by the way, put me over 400 miles in 2011!

So yay for still running and yay for not dying from running and boo for getting hit by a car and yay for not dying by getting hit by a car.

I Need Aidan To Ride The Bus

2011-10-18T09:34:00.000-05:00

This blog is the perfect outlet for my numerous letters that need written to specific people or objects I encounter throughout my day. Instead of my gun, I blog about the idiots. It makes for a more socially acceptable read: infinitely less enjoyable for me outcome. And I guess it's better for the idiot, too. Today's letter basically wrote itself.

Dear Mercedes Minivan Mom,

Don't pretend you don't know who I am. I'm the gal in the Jeep that your overpriced bitch-mobile nearly took the front end off of. Remember? After you cut me off I followed you three blocks out of my way, all the while honking my horn because I know how expensive a Mercedes is to repair so the ramming YOUR side of the thing option was off the table. Listen, I got your number, bitch. I know you weren't late for work because you look exactly like me - like you woke up six and a half minutes ago, threw some bread and an oatmeal creme pie in your kid's lunchbox and hauled ass to get him to school on time. You were probably even wearing Crocs without socks with your reindeer pj pants. We're an easy breed to pick out of a group. So, let's have it. What is your rich-bitch excuse for being a rude, drop-off line bully? I'm gonna review my auto insurance and maybe make some changes so next time you try that shit you might just take my Jeep to your driver's side door.

Sincerely,

Bitch In The Jeep Who's Just Crazy Enough To Do It

Quotable Sunday

2011-10-16T03:00:00.000-05:00

"Why don't you eat some make-up so you can be pretty on the inside, bitch!" - Unknown (but I adore whoever said it)

The Difference

2011-10-14T03:00:00.000-05:00

There are only a handful of people who understand the difference between a kid freaking out and a kid freaking the fuck out. There's a distinction and when I find someone who gets it, well, I get kinda possessive and basically force them to become my friend. My latest victim is Aidan's friend's mom. The kid's dad is Aidan's football coach so she became my prey at the first football practice. She really didn't stand a chance, I mean, I know where she lives since practice is there and our boys are in the same class... This chick ain't goin' nowhere!

I came home floating on a cloud of commiseration and acceptance the night I determined she knew 'the difference' and I excitedly told the Sexy Beast about it. Having known me for 6 seconds, he could visualize the immediate future and he warned me not to stalk her because I'd scare her. So, ya know, I found her on Facebook approximately 13 seconds later. *cue slow shaking of the Sexy Beast's head* So I got her on the FB hook. Score! I tried to play it cool and waited a week or so before I got her cell number but once I got that, Bitch is mine!

Yesterday Asher and I hit Target after dropping Aidan off at school and who do I spot? Oh yes. It's first date time! Y'all, it was beautiful. Just a beautiful, perfect, high class - ya know because it was Target and not Wal-Mart? - first date. We tried on dumb hats and took photos, we rolled our eyes at our children, she even offered to let me thump her kid. I refrained, thinking that more of a 3rd date activity, but the fact that she offered? Love! Friday (today) we are both attending the class field trip with our boys. Now we're supposed to say we volunteered for the sake of our kids but you can bet your sweet ass we both checked if the other was coming before we committed to anything. Hee hee hee...

She doesn't have a blog name yet. Please Blog Gods, let me come up with something that doesn't have the initials SB because Sexy Beast, Skinny Bitch, Skinny Bastard? Enough already! She doesn't actually know about the blog yet. I'll wait till like the 4th date to drop that particular bomb.

Update: I dropped the blog bomb last night at practice. I'll write later to let ya know if our field trip date goes down as planned or if she ran to the nearest courthouse for a no contact order. Not that a little legal form would stop me...

There's Sexist And Then There's What Asher Is

2011-10-13T03:00:00.000-05:00

Asher hates girls. That's a fact. A commercial for Barbies comes on TV, Asher mumbles "Me hate girls." His biggest complaint about the preschool he started at this year? Too many girls. His favorite thing about the preschool he's in now? Not so many girls.

When we showed up at his first soccer practice this season he was furious to see girls there. Like wanted to check out, soccer was dead to him, pissed off that there were girls. Then, when he had to play games with girls on his team? That was it. He doesn't go to soccer anymore. So the kid owes me $100 which I will put towards his college tuition because Hello, why do you think I'm trying to get you into this sporty shit other than hoping one will be your ticket to college? Why can't you see the big picture, four year old?

When Asher gets really pissed at me he will mumble to himself about how I don't even have a pen!s as if that is the single explanation for whatever shortcoming I have shown myself to have. He still hasn't gotten over the shock of that discovery and I fear what will happen when he realizes that people with pen!ses only think they rule the world and it's girls who truly hold the power. Probably a lesson for a future time, ya think?

Musical Monday - 3 Penny Acre

2011-10-10T03:00:00.000-05:00

I stumbled upon 3PA via Facebook - I actually went to high school with Bernice Hembree so ya know, if they get uber-famous I'm gonna claim we were BFFs. The truth - that we've never even spoken - is unimportant.

Balance the Budget, B

2011-10-08T10:13:00.002-05:00

This guy? My hero.

Screw It, I Quit

2011-10-07T03:00:00.000-05:00

Raising well rounded children is just too much work. I don't even work outside the home and I'm totally overwhelmed right now.

This was my September and while there were a few days without something written on them, trust me, I was jumping through my asshole with activities those days, too. I mean really, I don't pencil in my 5am runs, the hours I spend writing the shelter article for the paper, or the 25 minute blocks of time I need to hide from my children in the bathroom. It all adds up, ya know?

And what's with these fundraisers? Dude, people are only going to think the Congratulations, you're on the You've Been Deemed Obligated To Buy Crap From My Kid list email is funny like 3 or 4 times before they start marking my emails as spam and stop taking my calls because seriously, who can afford that shit?

These kids sell Christmas wrapping paper for elementary school - if they sell 200 items they get some shit like a pencil that lights up. Anyone ever heard of the Dollar Aisle at Target? That's where I'm taking Aidan next time he comes home with one of those damn packets. They sell popcorn for $40 a bag for Boy Scouts and they get... um, to be a Boy Scout. And all this time I thought paying the membership fee was how they got to be a Boy Scout. Silly me. I think they might actually have to sell the rights to name their first born child for athletics next season. I can't keep up. Because everyone knows when I say "these kids sell" I really mean "I have to try to sell". It's kinda bullshit.

Look, I know there are steps I could take to make my life infinitely less hectic schedule-wise, I'm not stupid. If I pushed more Wii games and quit signing the boys up for football, soccer, basketball, etc.... I'd gain some ground. I could just buy Aidan a BB gun because that's the ONLY reason he even wants to be in Scouts. And if I could quit giving a shit if the dogs at the shelter get adopted I could sit at home on my unstressed ass a little more. But if I did that what would I bitch about here at ye ol' blog? I wouldn't do that to you guys!

Musical Monday - Benjamin Francis Leftwich

2011-10-03T03:00:00.000-05:00

Wow. How long has it been since I did a Musical Monday? Well, I'm back on it. I'm lovin' this song, Atlas Hands by Benjamin Francis Leftwich.

Commercials Are The Devil

2011-10-02T03:00:00.000-05:00

Dear Internet TV Episode Commercial Product Company,

Simply because you force me to watch the same commercial for your product four times during each "commercial break" I swear on my laptop, I will not buy your shit. Even if I would have in the past. Even if I have used it for years. EVEN IF you offered to support my blogging habit. Okay, I'd think about it if you offered to support my blogging habit but I'd make you sweat it.

Sincerely,

I watch the damn show online to avoid commercials!

It's Time I Came Out of the Closet

2011-09-28T03:00:00.000-05:00

You ready for this? Okay.

I hate shopping.

Yes, I know that's a violation of some woman code and they'll probably take away my v@g!na over it but it was time I came out with it. I think shopping sucks.

This past weekend I went shopping with the Skinny Bitch - kind of a last hurrah before the Sexy Beast and Skinny Bastard make deer widows of us. No worries, they usually come back home for the holidays. I learned something during that excursion - I now know that worse than shopping in general is shopping with skinny bitches. Like really, Let me just cut one of the legs off a pair of my yoga pants and I'll make you a tube dress out of it. Then can we be done with this shit and go get some Mexican food?

Dear CBS and DVR

2011-09-27T03:00:00.000-05:00

Oh Em Gee, CBS, football - most especially NFL football - is not, I repeat NOT, important enough to run over into my Sunday evening shows. It's just not so don't start, okay? But just for blogging sake, let's go ahead and pretend it was. My dear DVR service provider, we've had a man on the moon, I would think you should be able to adjust DVR recording capabilities so that I don't sit down to watch The Good Wife only to find 53 minutes of football and just enough of my show to really piss. me. off. Ya know what? I'm done talking to you. I have to go find the episode online and I hate watching tv on the computer. So thanks for that!

It's A Fair Question

2011-09-26T11:19:00.000-05:00

I was just wondering... Do companies wait until I announce that PMB is going private to flood me with ad space orders? Because I can't very well take on new ads and then go private, right? I've got my eye on a pair of earrings that won't be decorating these lobes without some revenue so how can I say Oh, sorry, I can't take your money. Not easily! I've really got to figure out that IP address blocking thing. Or, ya know, get a job.

Speaking of... The Skinny Bitch says I should get paid to be me and I totally agree. Anyone know a company that might want to hire me to be snarky and semi-rude to their customers via the world wide web? Cuz I could totally provide that service.

Stupid Dora

2011-09-24T05:00:00.000-05:00

Asher was watching Dora the Explorer one morning when she exclaims Who do we ask when we don't know which way to go? Now the correct answer is Map! but Asher responded Why don't you just ask Bennie, he's right there with you! Then Dora says That's right, Map! and Asher performs the perfect eye-roll, slowly shakes his head and says Why'd you have to go and bother Map when you could've just asked Bennie like I said. Stupid Dora!

And that, folks, is proof positive that Asher is my son. Yes, I'm proud. So proud.

Freakin' Men

2011-09-21T05:00:00.000-05:00

Anyone remember close to a year ago when I started this running shit? And then I signed up for my first 5K that wasn't so much a 5K as an Al Qaeda training course? Somehow I lived through it and what did I go and do? I signed up again! I signed me and the Sexy Beast up. The Sexy Beast who hadn't run 12 feet in the last 3 years, his words, not mine. It's roughly 6 weeks before the race and he starts training. First day - 2.5 miles in way the fuck less time than it takes me. Second day - 2.5 miles in way way the fuck less time than it takes me AND he tells me that he ran up the unholy hill into our neighborhood. Skinny Bitch and her husband are also running with us and she went through the same damn thing. When I voiced my disgust that he and Skinny Bitch's husband can just up and decide to run and immediately are so much faster than us and run up hills that are not meant to be run up, he replied I'm sorry that men are superior in every possible way. We haven't spoken since.

By the way, I think it's time for Skinny Bitch's husband gets a proper blog name. Skinny Bastard, perhaps?

Dreams

2011-09-20T10:25:00.001-05:00

I've been having some whacked out dreams lately. I dreamed I was in nursing school. You will never catch me in nursing school, mkay? I don't do sick people. I went to EMT school, went on my first run on the ambulance, came back to the station and quit. I don't do sick people. It's probably worth noting that my mother is an RN and my sister is in nursing school. Rebellion, perhaps?

We've been discussing trading my Jeep in on something with better than 10 miles per gallon gas mileage since I'm running Aidan & Asher's Personal ~~Bitch~~ Taxi Service. I dreamed I was driving a horse and buggy, wearing an Amish bonnet. I didn't even tell the Sexy Beast about that one, he'll think that's a GREAT idea.

I say "we" but really it's just me talking and the Sexy Beast shaking his head slowly but "we've" also been talking about moving into a less expensive house. Problem is I want an old craftsman style with a huge front porch and most of those are in neighborhoods I don't want to live in and in a different school district. Although, Duh, if I'm driving a smaller car and therefore saving gas money and we're living in a cheaper home, then it stands to reason that we could afford for me to drive the boys to their schools in the district we're in now. Still I get the slowly shaking head. Which is probably why I dreamed that we moved into an RV behind Aidan's school. And I was thrilled because we didn't have to move the swing-set since there is a playground at the school.

Somehow I tricked the people at the shelter into thinking I am capable of creating a calendar to sell to raise money for the shelter. I'm terrified I'm going to screw it up royally. I guess that fear is what led me to dream that when the calendars came in, instead of photos of adopted dogs for each month there were photo copies of my ass. You know, like when you sit bare-assed on the copy machine? Don't pretend you never did it.

I've also dreamed that Asher ripped my nose ring out and insurance wouldn't pay to repair the tear in my nostril. I was super-pissed when I woke from that one. I dreamed that Aidan filled out a fund-raiser order form for 200 items so he could get the big prize - an iPod Touch - and we were going to have to pay for it. I was amused upon waking from that one because if he sells 200 items he's getting the iPad. For me. I dreamed my veneers fell off. I dreamed I sewed my fingers together. On purpose. And I dreamed something hysterically funny about the Sexy Beast but he's dead serious when he says he will divorce me if I ever repeat it. Maybe he won't get an invite when I go private and I'll tell y'all then *wink*. Kidding, honey, you know I would never...

I Said One Day I'd Do It

2011-09-19T12:05:00.002-05:00

That day is almost here! When my ad contract terms are up, I'm going underground and I am so excited! As a private blog, I can invite 100 people to read. I'll cut off my email subscriptions and mass reader subscriptions such as Google Reader, etc... And then it will be just me and those of you I actually like and want to read my nonsense.

Let me tell you, I cannot wait to get this done. I should really blog more about how irritating it is to see someone who has zero interest in actually being in my life checking my blog nineteen times a day. If I'm so awful, stay the fuck away, makes sense to me. I don't do this for money Although I totally would if someone were offering!, it's just a place to rant, occasionally brag, and just be the full-on Amanda I can't always be in my day to day life. I'm way excited!

So, yeah, if you want in, let me know. Did I say I was excited about this? Cuz I am.

P.S. It appears I need to tell y'all to leave your email address - or send me an email using that nifty little Email Me link at the top of the page. I can't invite no-reply@blogger.com, comprende?

Example #9702

2011-09-16T05:00:00.000-05:00

Just another example of my asshole-i-ness... Asher freaking drives me crazy with this 'don't sthep on any cwacksth, Mama!' *cwacksth = cracks* It's kind of a damn nightmare in Wal-Mart, mkay? So when he's not with me, I intentionally step on every crack I can. Every. single. one. It's like Mom Rebellion and I smile with every step.

Blue Obsession

2011-09-15T05:00:00.000-05:00

So you know how I've said many times that Aidan gets an obsession and will. not. let. it. go? We're still going through his blue period. I'm pretty sure it won't have a Picasso-esque ending. The kid has at least 15 blue T-shirts, 8 pair of blue shorts, most of his shoes have blue on them, his toothbrush is blue, he's pissed that he doesn't have blue eyes... You getting the picture I'm painting IN BLUE PAINT for you?

This week is Homecoming week so on Monday the kids wore their favorite team shirts. In what I can only describe as a moment from the Twilight Zone, he chose a *gasp* black Iowa Hawkeyes T-shirt. Tuesday they wore a color determined by their grade. Second graders were *gasp* green. He has exactly one green T-shirt and again, in a Twilight Zone moment, no problem. Wednesday was Crazy Hair and Hat day. And guess what color he wanted his hair colored. *gasp* Green.

Ha! Kidding! He chose blue. And do you think I could find blue non-permanent dye even though Halloween stuff is out in the stores and there should be dozens of colors to choose from? Oh, hell no. One big, fat, blue/silver eyeliner pencil and 3 ounces of hair gel later and I present you with my Blue Guy. The photo doesn't give you the full blue-effect but let me tell ya, he looked awesome!

Asher chose a faux-hawk and he did love it, and rocked it if I do say so myself.

His Last Name Is What?

2011-09-14T05:00:00.000-05:00

Asher has a new best friend at preschool. Why is this little boy so special to Asher? Because his last name is DS. And Aidan hasth a DS, Mama, stho he isth my besth friend!

Me - His name is DS?

Asher - Yesth.

Me - DS? I don't think his name is DS, baby.

Asher - Yesth, it isth. Histh name isth Little Boy DS!

Me - *lightbulb pops up above my head* Oh! I think his name is Little Boy Diaz, not DS.

Asher - Yeah, thatsth what I sthaid, Little Boy DS!

Me - Okay, well I hope you and Little Boy DS are very happy together.

Published

2011-09-13T05:00:00.001-05:00

Oh yeah, guess who got published? Tis I, Amanda!

Before you get too excited, it's just an article in our local paper and I don't even get printed credit for it but I am now writing the weekly article for the shelter where I volunteer. Not a lot of opportunity to use my native language of pure, unadulterated profanity in the newspaper. As you well know there are few things I love the way I love to curse but one of those is our shelter dogs so for them, I'll sacrifice.

I'm working on a website/blog for the shelter, too. You know, because I don't have so much going on that I'm running my ass ragged as it is.

What To Do Today

2011-09-12T13:49:00.001-05:00

Aidan is like me in that he is a list maker. He makes lists of people he loves and lists of people he hates. My name frequently makes both lists. He makes lists of things to pack when we go on trips and lists of fun things to do when we get there. He makes lists of offenses committed against him by Asher and lists acceptable punishments for those offenses. This past weekend he spent the night at Kid Sister's so he took to her kitchen dry erase board to list the agenda for the stay...

1. Watch tv antel your mom waks up
2. eat brekfast
3. kil and eat sqirel and rabit

Where Did I Go Wrong?

2011-09-11T05:00:00.000-05:00

Me - Asher, sit your butt on the seat and do not get up again! I'm sick and tired of talking to you.

Asher - Well, I'm sick and tired of listening to you talk.

Me - *speechless*

Dear...

2011-09-09T10:28:00.003-05:00

Dear Asher,

I asked you thirteen times over the course of 3 weeks if you really wanted to play soccer and thirteen times over those 3 weeks you said "Yesth, Mama, me wanna play sthoccer!". So I wrote a check, a big fat check, for you to play soccer. And now, after one practice and one game, you 'justh wanna sthay home"? Um, no. No sir! You have 7 more practices and 7 more games in this season and you are going to 7 practices and 7 games. I am not afraid to drag you kicking and screaming onto that field. You cannot embarrass me, I've been at the doctor's office with your brother. It seems your father may be but I'm not scared of you. You're going next week!

Love, Mama

Dear Sexy Beast,

See above letter to Asher - you are now forever banned from making reference to me being the weak parent, the one who gives in, or the one who gets run over by the boys. Also, you're fired from soccer practice transportation.

Love, Me

Little Ol' Ladies Ought Never To Clank

2011-09-03T14:09:00.000-05:00

When I was growing up my mother used to try to kill me by making me watch old episodes of The Andy Griffith Show. In black and white - which was the true horror of the situation. I believe I perfected my God given gift of extreme eye-rolling during those half hour torture sessions. I'm pretty sure she enjoyed pissing me off just a tad too much but that's an issue for a therapist.

On a completely unrelated note I probably won't be blogging much because I just started watching The Andy Griffith Show from season 1 on Netflix.

Coming up in season 4 is my favorite episode ever. The one where Ben Weaver suspects a shoplifter is at work in his department store. Barney disguises himself as a mannequin to spy on shoppers and thinks he caught the thief - a little old lady. As usual, he is wrong. Or so it appears. The store owner and Andy apologize to her and send her on her way while Barney fumes very animatedly over it. Just a minute later, outside the store, Andy and Barney stop the lady again only this time Andy makes her open her trench-coat which, as it turns out, is lined with stolen property. When Barney asks him how he knew the old lady had stolen property from the store, Andy replies "Well, when I bumped into her back in the store she clanked and little old ladies ought never to clank."

Also totally unrelated, my mom's ringtone is The Andy Griffith Show theme-song.

Kick Rocks, Dude

2011-09-02T09:40:00.000-05:00

I know I should be ashamed that I watch The Bachelor, The Bachelorette, and worst of all - Bachelor Pad. But ya know what? Sometimes I just want to spend an hour using absolutely no brain cells what-so-ever and Bachelor Pad is a fantastic way to do that. Trash TV at it's finest!

So this season the contestant who draws my wrath is Kasey. I have just a couple of things to say to Kasey, I mean he's not hearing me when I scream at the TV so maybe he reads my blog... Dude, we get it. You hate Jake. Jake is a douche. I'm with you on that. But you got a tattoo for a girl you had known for 3 weeks and roughly six seconds after you showed it to her she left you sitting on a glacier while she flew off with some other douche which kinda sorta makes YOU a douche, too. Also, I swear on my laptop if you insist on saying 'kick rocks' every 19 seconds I'm going to get a fork and shove it into a light socket. I understand that you learned a new and obnoxious way to tell some one to get lost and you've got to make sure everyone hears and knows how very clever you are but once you've said 'kick rocks' nine hundred and sixty four times it kinda looses it's charm. So knock it the fuck off or 'kick rocks', mkay?

See, I'm A Good Mom!

2011-08-31T23:59:00.000-05:00

Except that I took zero photos of the boys on their real first days of preschool and 2nd grade. Oh, STFU, I had a lot going on that day, okay? However, the parenting gods presented me with an opportunity to redeem myself by opening up a spot in another preschool and BAM! A new first day of preschool for Asher photo op is upon me.

I haven't recreated Aidan's first day of 2nd grade. Honestly, I could take a photo of him any. damn. day. and it would look like the first day because the kid wears blue shorts and a blue shirt every. damn. day. I've explained before that I don't fight him on the the annoying wardrobe battle very often because I like to flex my parenting muscles on the issues that could lead him to the penitentiary. Where, I might add, they usually wear orange and he's not fond of orange so maybe fear of no blue clothes will scare him straight. Hey, it's a theory. And if not, I'll let the warden deal with it.

Not Ready For THAT Talk Yet

2011-08-30T03:00:00.001-05:00

My kids are fabulous is that they listen to and like the music I like. None of that Wiggles shit, not in MY Jeep. This does pose some problems though, like I can't listen to any Eminem what-so-ever and I have to mute parts of songs when there are bad words Because you know they NEVER hear those words straight from my mouth, no ma'am. The other day we were listening to Bruno Mars', The Lazy Song so I mute the 'have some really nice sex' part.

Aidan - I know what he says there, Mama.

Me - Oh yeah? What?

Aidan - Sex.

Me - And what does sex mean?

Aidan - That I don't know.

Me - Good.

Aidan - Well? What does it mean, Mama?

Me - *turns up music to an unhealthy decibel*

No Rhyme Or Reason

2011-08-29T03:00:00.000-05:00

Just a heads up - this post is simply random shit going through my head this morning. Please keep in mind I've been up since 4:45am, ran 5.12 miles, baked two loaves of banana bread, done two loads of laundry, cleaned the boys' room and almost finished the animal shelter article for the paper. This, after not going to sleep until 1am. I'd like to thank Mt Dew and 400mgs of caffeine pills for my productivity.

I'm wondering if anyone in the history of the damn universe has ever used super glue and managed to not get it all the hell over themselves? I'm typing one handed because three fingers of my left hand are stuck together and I almost pulled the "P" key off my laptop thanks to that maniacal substance.

Wow, my blog is the #2 destination for people searching for 'sid the science kid boiled ham'. I don't even know what to say about that... Also popular search terms that brought people here? 'Bird shit', 'Jennifer Aniston's nose/nose-job', and 'old lady lived in 1053A Kopke St.'. That last one screams Stalker to me but maybe I'm just paranoid.

This morning's run brought me to 321 miles in 2011. Three hundred twenty one MILES y'all! So why, pray tell (I've always wanted to say 'pray tell', did I do it right?) does my ass still look like there are two basketballs in my jeans? Come on! I didn't run 321 miles for fun, dammit, I run purely for reasons of vanity and I'm getting zero payoff. And that is bullshit!

I saw The Help with Skinny Bitch and Kid Sister last night at one of those theaters where you eat dinner and drink booze while you watch the movie. This fool country girl is totally in awe of that whole experience. The movie, oh hell, that movie was SO GOOD! I cannot get "You is kind. You is smart. You is important." out of my head now. Also, Bryce Dallas Howard is DEAD. TO. ME. forever now. Yes, I know she was acting and yes, I get that if she made me hate her she did a great job. I don't care. I loathe her character from the depths of my soul and I will hold that feeling against her for the rest of my life. And let's be honest, that fact is going to make absolutely no difference in that woman's life what-so-ever so just let me have it, okay?

Gawd, the Disney Channel is soooo corny! Those kids cannot be that excited about the next episode of Suite Life on Deck.

I Almost Went To Prison

2011-08-27T07:54:00.002-05:00

I hosted the Fearsome Foursome last night and somehow managed to survive. They showed mercy on me. All four of them ate what I made for dinner - it's really not all that surprising considering it was chicken and mac-n-cheese, actually thanked me for the cookies for dessert, there were no punches thrown, no biting, shoving, slapping, kicking, pinching, head-butting, hair pulling (yes, these boys pull hair), or full body take-downs. And that? No small miracle. Yay me!

Cut to 3am - Asher is up crying because he can't find his blanket. When I go in their room I automatically start counting heads and besides Asher, there are only two. There were four, right? Yes, I'm certain of it! What the... I shrug it off to get Asher settled down thinking one of them - and at this point I'm not even sure which one is missing - went downstairs to the guest bed. You're fine now, Asher, go to sleep, love you, night. Now where the hell is... turn body #1 over - Aidan, turn body #2 over - Julyan. Jayden! Where the hell is Jayden? I go downstairs to look for him. What did he not understand about don't go into the flooded basement? Oh yes, our basement flooded - more on that when I can think about it and not just cry. Jayden isn't there. Shit. Maybe I missed him on the couch in the living-room. Back up stairs I go. No Jayden. Check under the kids' beds. No Jayden. Check the garage. No Jayden. Check all the bathrooms. No Jayden. Shit, shit, shit! Front and back doors locked. Checked my room, my bathroom, my closet, the laundry room, the linen closet, both hall closets. No Jayden. Oh fucking hell, I'm going to have to tell Kid Sister I lost her kid! I need to call the police. Yes, call police first, tell Kid Sister in police presence to avoid bloodshed. Oh shit, I've seen this Dateline - I get convicted of murder because I write a blog bitching about my kids all the time. *cue uncontrolled body shaking and dry heaving* Go back in boys' room and notice closet door is closed - the closet door is never closed. Open closet doors - Jayden, asleep on the floor completely unaware that he almost got me life in prison. Whew! That was close. I never would have survived the pokey.

About That

2011-08-26T14:11:00.001-05:00

Remember my rant about preschool? Yeah... about that... after a week in the expensive private preschool I got a call that there was a spot open for Asher if we wanted it. Do I want it? Are ya freakin' kidding me? Yes, I want the spot. Wait, did he get the spot because I am screwed up enough? Ya know what? I don't even care. So now Asher goes to preschool free of charge, Monday through Friday from 12:30 - 3pm. I am thrilled! He is thrilled!

Now before you start asking me what I'm doing with all my free time, let me give you a quick run-down. I drive Aidan to school and drive home to be Asher's bitch until I drive him to preschool and drive home. Then, two hours later I drive back to preschool to pick Asher up and we drive home. Thirty minutes after that we drive to pick up Aidan from school and drive back home again. Most evenings we drive to one activity or another and drive back home. Are you getting the pattern here? Driving. That's how I'm spending *all my free time*. I'm not sure which font portrays sarcasm but imagine that last sentence in sarcasm font, mkay?

Birthday In The House

2011-08-24T17:51:00.001-05:00

Today is Asher's 4th birthday. He's not impressed. He still believes great things happen when you're five and not four. I don't argue with four year olds. Maybe when he's five...

On Sunday we had a birthday party. The punk engaged in Captain America overload - Captain America cake, Captain America decorations, a Captain America costume, Captain America action figures... you get the idea. A fab time was had by all as you will see in the thirteen hundred photos I'm about to upload.

On their birthdays, the boys get to pick anything they want for dinner. Asher picked venison. I love him for that request for two reasons - Number One, I don't cook venison, Daddy does and Number Two, venison is my birthday dinner choice every time, too!

So - Happy Birthday, Asher. Even if you are only four.

I Win

2011-08-23T16:25:00.000-05:00

Ha ha! I beat the internet!!!

I say that as if I had anything to do with it. Mere seconds before I fashioned a noose, a kind soul at GoDaddy did in 1.5 minutes what I had been trying to do for 4 damn days. I think some sort of witchcraft was involved but whatever, it's fixed. The transfer is complete. I believe feeds and subscriptions remain unchanged and bookmarked urls will automatically redirect you here.

If by some chance something isn't fixed... well... you better call GoDaddy because I can't help you.

Well???

2011-08-20T17:03:00.002-05:00

Moment of truth, dear readers. What do you think of the new title/tagline and header? Cute? Clever? Delusional? Come on with it!

Yes, you're still at mykidsmightbemartians.com and no, I don't want to talk about why you're not at pardonmyblog.com right now. I think it best to keep the number of times I completely lose my shit over not being in total control of the universe to a minimum. Besides, I have a little boy's birthday party tomorrow that I have yet to buy food, cake, decorations, or gifts for. This is probably a good time for the blog to move to the back burner. Although Asher doesn't even care about this, his 4th birthday, because he firmly believes his life will get infinitely better at 5. I gave up trying to convince him that if he is ready to ride his bike sans training wheels when he is 3 or 4, he can do that. But I'm just the mama, what the hell do I know?

Blog In Turmoil

2011-08-18T11:23:00.000-05:00

All that talk of changes here at ye ol' blog? Now I remember that I don't really like change all that much. Because it's hard.

Maybe you noticed that Martians was a big fat 404 Error for a day or so. Then it was parked with GoDaddy and right now I believe it to be fixed. Kind of. It should be forwarding to the new url but it's not. And even if it was I don't think the new url is linked to Blogger where this blog-in-turmoil is hosted so when/if the forwarding works my blog won't actually be there anyway. So to summarize, I think the internet is trying to out me as an idiot. And Blogger is being mean to me.

Sid the Science Kid makes me writhe with irritation. Of course Asher loves it. Sorry, I'm easily distracted...

My blog designer is tweaking my header to reflect the changes I've got in mind. I can freely admit that I am a pain in the ass to design for. I'm picky, opinionated, and worst of all - impatient. What do you mean you can't read my mind and you will not be working on my design 24/7? The nerve!!! Just remember that I'm probably going to screw this blog up several more times before this is over. Sorry if you get redirected to some fetish porn site, my bad.

Live Like The Indians

2011-08-17T05:00:00.000-05:00

The boys stayed the night with Kid Sister a few nights ago and when I came to get them they were all shirtless, shoeless, and weilding butter knives. Save your speeches, noone was injured. I was told they were indians hunting a rabbit for dinner. They had a trap set up - a green onion tied to the end of a broken fishing pole - and were hell bent to catch, kill, and eat a rabbit. I had no fear for the rabbit, come on, the trap was rudimentary at best. I asked if they'd had breakfast and was met with looks of pure disgust and asked in a tone which inferred that I was a complete idiot if I thought indians ate cereal. Before I could answer Aidan says No, mom, indians do. not. eat. cereal. *eyeroll* Yeah! *eyerolls all around* countered the other three and they went on their way. Uh, fine by me, smartass, I'll just read my book and not have to prepare four separate breakfast dishes to suit each one of your picky ass eating habits. Gawd, I really HATE that. Jerks.

Within the hour I had made a bowl of Fruit Loops, peanut butter toast, and scrambled eggs for the weakest of them of them but Aidan was holding out, determined to truly live the way of the indian. He'd pop in every once in a while to make sure I knew how hungry he was but that he was under NO circumstances going to eat anything other than rabbit.

That sure looks good, Mama, my tummy is hungry! But indians don't eat peanut butter toast.

Mom, do indians drink Diet Coke?

Me - I don't know, son.

Probably not. Hmph!

Hey mom, I wonder if indians had pretzels if they would have eated them. Naw, probably not.

Finally after a grueling ninety minutes he comes inside I'm pretty sure indians would have eated cereal if they had some. Cereal is just as healthy as rabbit I bet, hu, Mama?

Me - Uh, Fruit Loops is not as healthy as rabbit but I think scrambled eggs are.

Ok, Mama, I'll have Fruit Loops and scrambled eggs!

Us vs Them

2011-08-16T05:00:00.002-05:00

Asher stated the obvious - that it's the Sexy Beast against them, duh! but he puts an Asher-esque twist on it

Me and Aidan are on the cool side you and Mama are on the sucks side!

Well, you two suck, you got that part right, kid!

Cha-cha-changes

2011-08-15T12:19:00.002-05:00

Well, since Martians is a PR piss ant, might as well make the big change. If I ever get my header redone, My Kids Might Be Martians will become Amandapalooza or Pardon My Blog, I haven't decided yet. No fear, the six of you won't really need to change anything, you'll be automatically forwarded to the new url. You're welcome.

Oh, who among ye geeks can tell me if there is any way to block a certain IP address from viewing my blog? I'd like to redirect him/her to getafuckinglifeandquitstalkingme.com or perhaps heyidiottheinternetisnotanonymous.com. Either would suffice.

I tend to get the itch to change shit up when school starts. This year is no different. I'm contemplating a new hairstyle, new haircolor, maybe a couple of those whacky feather extensions, oh and this...

See it? No, not my bulbous honker and who forgot to tell me my nose was that freakin' big?!?! the teeny diamond stud I let a tattoed gentleman shove through my nostril last weekend. I quiver at the rebel I'm becoming.

Little known factoid about me in my wilder days - I've had my navel pierced three separate times and my tongue pierced twice. I also have a tramp stamp which I am $800 in to having removed. I was shocked at the Sexy Beast's facial expression when I mentioned my plan to get another tattoo. I mean really, I'm not 19 anymore, surely at 32 29 my choice will be more reasonable. It also surely will not be a tramp stamp and there might even be a sentimental meaning to this one. In an attempt to avoid a brain embolism in the head of the Sexy Beast, the tattoo is on hold. For now.

Doctor Doctor

2011-08-15T04:30:00.002-05:00

I'm taking the boys to a medical expert to explain this shit...

I need someone to explain to me why it is that when the boys are downstairs ~~tearing shit up~~ and I am upstairs screaming at the top of my lungs STOP SLAMMING THE DOORS!!! they can't hear me but when they are downstairs ~~tearing shit up~~ and I am upstairs opening a bag of baked cheetos they come running like I played the sound over a fucking bullhorn. Anyone???

On a related note, am I the only one who thinks cloth candy wrappers and chip bags are a fantastic idea?

Preschool Saga

2011-08-14T05:00:00.001-05:00

Fucking hell y'all, getting Asher into preschool has been a really 'pisses me off' experience. Let's start at the beginning, spring 2010. I made an appointment to register him at the public school Aidan goes to where we spent 2 hours going station to station manned by bitchy PTA members before finally being told basically suck it, bitch, he's not getting in. And why, may I ask, will he likely not get in? Well, because I'm not an alcoholic, unwed, teenage mother with a felonious, drug addicted baby-daddy. Or something along those lines. Now look, I'm not saying kids with family issues like that shouldn't get some leg-ups but if preschool is something all kids going into Kindergarten are expected to have attended then it needs to be set up with the public school system. But okay, he was barely 3 then, surely the year before he starts school he'll get in.

Forward to spring 2011, same bitchy PTA members, same two hour registration mind fuck, same you're not screwed up enough, he's not getting in but there's more of a chance than last year so we'll let you know. When will you let me know? The week before school starts. Oh, so I can hope to hell he gets in here but when he doesn't I have ONE week to scramble and get him into another preschool that will undoubtedly cost as much as college tuition. Fabulous. Thanks a bunch.

Which brings us to today when we still don't have an acceptance or a fuck off letter. I call and of course the letters have gone out, don't know why ours isn't here but nope, he's not getting in. And the scrambling begins. By the grace of God a private school in town had one opening in their program - a two and a half hours twice a week for an amount significantly higher than the free public school program. We went, we saw, we wrote a check and now he's in preschool. A private Catholic preschool. We're not Catholic. I hope that's not a problem...

Wait, It's Time For School???

2011-08-11T15:51:00.047-05:00

Dude! Where did summer go? Aidan and Asher start school next Wednesday! Oh yeah, Asher, too, thank you Baby Jesus. More on that later.

Instead of our summer being eaten up down in Arkansas for weeks on end, Kid Sister and the boys moved here and let me tell ya how freakin' awesome it is for my boys to have their aunt and cousins so close. They are lovin' it! And me? I'm lovin' all the nights they spend at Kid Sister's house. The Sexy Beast and I don't know what to do with ourselves on all those kid free nights, it's just... weird...and blissful! But still weird.

I've read 16 books and ran 96 miles since school let out - most of those at 4:45am since the Sexy Beast goes to work at 7am now and oh hell won't I be glad when that shit is over. I took the kids - all four boys - to the zoo twice, to the city pool once, and to the sprinkler park roughly 18 times. We camped yes, sleeping in an air conditioned cabin counts as camping for one twenty-four hour period and barely survived. I got to do a couple adoption events with the shelter where I volunteer in addition to my bi-weekly walking sessions. I've come close to adopting, oh about 12 dogs at various times throughout the summer but the Sexy Beast put the kabosh on those - something about enough mouths to feed and messes... Whatev.

Asher finished his first soccer season in June and starts a new one with a local soccer academy later this month. He'll even have a weekly practice and he's super psyched about that for some reason. I think it's because it's yet another thing for me to schedule our lives around. Hold me. Aidan finished his first baseball season late last month. He has a one day football camp next week and begins flag football later this month. Oh yeah, Asher will be doing Kinder Nature at a nearby nature center on Sunday afternoons. Add all that to a birthday party for Asher that I have yet to plan, Meet Your Teacher nights at both schools and homeowner's association duties that will be fast and furious in the fall... Oh shit. Again I beg... Hold me?

Why Do We Say That?

2011-08-10T05:00:00.015-05:00

I get why we say pair of shoes. Riddle me why the hell do we say pair of pants? Pair of swim trunks?

Am I the only one to ask? The Skinny Bitch and I discussed this - during our camping trip which is a blog post all it's own - and we came up empty. Well, I think we would have come to some brilliant conclusion were it not for four small people and two grown ass men who shall remain nameless demanding food, drink, and supervision. *eyeroll*

So, my legions of fans (and by legions I mean all six of you), enlighten me. Am I over-thinking this? Why are we saying pair for an article of clothing of which there is but one. Unless you point to the fact that there are two legs in pants and shorts therefore deeming them worthy of being a pair. Hmmm, that kind of makes sense...

Is he a 14 yr old girl or a 7 yr old boy?

2011-08-09T18:59:00.002-05:00

Sweet Baby Jesus, I wish uniforms were required for school. I'm telling you the fight over what Aidan will and will not wear to school is on par with ... uh... something really difficult, okay? It requires guerilla warfare tactics and even then, I lose.

These days Aidan wears only grey or blue t-shirts and athletic shorts. No, really, if the shirt isn't blue or grey, it hangs in his closet, untouched. Do ya think he'll go for a nice blue or grey polo shirt? Not on your life. Jean shorts? Nope. Khaki shorts? Negative. It's exhausting. What 7 yr old boy gives a shit what he's wearing? This is strictly teenage girl bullshit, I'm not sure how to process this.

We went school clothes shopping this weekend and to say it was the longest few hours of my life is a massive understatement. He now has 7 blue t-shirts, 8 grey t-shirts, 10 pair of athletic shorts - mostly blue and black, a pair of blue and black tennis shoes, a pair of grey tennis shoes, and one blue and black backpack. *shakes head* That boy is going to be the death of me. Or the reason I go to prison. Time will tell.

Is August 1 Too Late To Write About Our Fourth of July?

2011-08-01T05:01:00.000-05:00

We all lived through the Fourth of July. And when I say we lived I mean the Fourth is the best day of Aidan's year. Christmas, birthday? Those are great but July Fourth? The kid is bananas, sing it with me! - bee ay en ay en ay es!! about the Fourth. When Aidan is bananas for something he tends to, how should I say... pester the living shit out of you with Can we do fireworks now, Mama, can we? Can we do fireworks now? Now? What time is it? Is it time to do fireworks? How long until we can do fireworks? It's truly exhausting and kinda makes the prospect of shoving roman candles into my ears so as not to hear it anymore just a tad too tempting.

Finally when it got dark the Sexy Beast and Skinny Bitch's husband lit up the cul de sac much to the delight of all six boys. Oh yes, SIX little boys, one of them being Aidan... it was interesting. I wish you all could have heard Aidan barking out orders Daddy do the parachute one now. Daddy, do the American Flamers now. Daddy, do exactly what I say exactly when I say to do it.

Kid Sister and the Skinny Bitch proved to be very photogenic that evening.

I'm glad I was behind the camera. It really is the safest place for me and my mug.

The two biggest boys probably had the best time. Not that they'd admit it or anything.

So that was our Fourth as told in hindsight on August 1. Because I'm fashionably late like that.

I Almost Forgot How To Blog

2011-07-28T16:21:00.000-05:00

My Kids Might Be Martians seems to be dying a slow death. Or it's just summer. We shall see. The Google Gods downgraded me from PR 3 to PR 2 which is to effectively say Give it up, bitch, you suck and so does your pathetic blog. I would like to reply with STFU, you spend every day getting your ass kicked by four little boys and see how much time and energy you have to write hysterically funny blog posts for your adoring fans but I can't find an email address for the Google Gods. Go figure.

Stuff is happening though. I'll start catching up a little at a time.

Let's see... Okay, I'll start here - Aidan lost his first tooth just before his 7th birthday. He'd been mad as hell that he hadn't lost a tooth yet and when this one finally got loose, it hung on - or is it hanged on??? for weeks leading to him begging me to tie string to it and a doorknob and slam the door! I refused, he fumed and furiously wiggled the thing 24/7 until it FINALLY came out in his cereal one morning. I've never been so happy to see a tooth fall out in all my life.

More to come soon!

Wordless Wednesday - Cousins

2011-07-20T05:00:00.000-05:00

Robin Hood?

2011-07-17T20:09:00.001-05:00

Aidan made out like a bandit for his birthday. I got him the iPod Shuffle, earphones because seriously, Apple, are there actually people whose ears hold yours?, and speakers to blare Dynamite at uncomfortable decibels. No, I'm not sure what I was thinking. Well, I was "the best mom, ever" for two days until the Sexy Beast broke out his gift. A freaking compound bow. Now, with visions of camo and bucks dancing in his head, I'm lame again. Um, fine by me, good luck keeping him quiet and still in the woods. Hee hee hee...

Norma and Her Toyota

2011-07-14T15:08:00.001-05:00

My spitfire Grandma made the paper with her one woman quest to abolish the death penalty in Nebraska.

Just a quick note to remind everyone - this is not a discussion on capitol punishment, I don't need you to quote the bible for me, and for the love of my laptop, please do not get started on politics. Be respectful, this is my grandmother and if you think I lose my shit over someone screwing with my kids, sit back and watch what will happen when it comes to my grandma. I'm sharing this because she is just too cute for words. I mean, how can you not love a woman who calls herself an old bag?

from the Lincoln Journal Star...

Norma and her Toyota take on the death penalty in Nebraska

DAVID CITY -- Norma Fleisher has finished her soft serve at theRunza on Fourth Street. She's wearing her Summer of 2011 uniform --SAS shoes, faded jeans, black fanny pack and one of two matchingT-shirts she washes out at night in motel room sinks.

They say: Abolish the Death Penalty.

It's Sunday, Day 25, County 73.

Her weathered Nebraska map -- taped in the Sandhills, rippedjust below Loup City -- is spread across the table in the ButlerCounty seat while the after-church hungry and the shorts-wearingyoung fill up on burgers and fries.

Her '92 Tercel is parked out front, a magnetic sign on eachwhite door with words to match her shirt.

She's ready for a nap, the 84-year-old Lincoln woman says. A napand then on to Seward by supper time. County 74.

Most summers, the great-great-grandmother would be home tendingher tomatoes. But last year, she decided to do this instead: Visiteach of Nebraska's 93 counties with a message.

A message she couldn't have delivered 20 years ago: The deathpenalty is wrong.

***

On June 15, Norma backed out of her driveway and headed north.She was in Wahoo by noon, ready for lunch at the Dairy Queen onNorth Chestnut Street.

She had dinner in Fremont at 6. The next morning, off to WestPoint for breakfast. Lunch on the Pender courthouse lawn and thenback to the second of many DQs to come -- this time for dinner, andthis time in Wayne.

8 a.m. Noon. 6 p.m. Same routine, day after day.

She carries peanut butter crackers in the Toyota and Cheez Whizand store brand Pop Tarts for towns without cafés. She totes DietMt. Dew by the 12-pack.

If she doesn't have an invite, she dines alone, parking the carwhere folks will see her signs. She keeps a journal inchicken-scratch pencil and reads while she waits for someone totake notice.

Sunday, she paws through a tote bag in her front seat for thenovel she's reading now, "Fools Crow" by James Welch.

She's gone through all the books she brought, she says. Six sofar.

She checks in with her son every night. She checks in with theLord all the time.

***

Norma was glad to see Nebraska execute Charlie Starkweather in1959.

Her husband carried a shotgun when he picked up two of theirkids from school the day the bandy-legged murderer committed hislast Lincoln crimes and fled west.

She was still in favor of the death penalty when she retired asa CPA in 1991 and decided to head to Africa as a missionary for theUnited Methodist Church.

The church sent her to Nashville instead. Said she wasn't suitedfor a Third World country, the small woman with soft white hair andgold-rimmed glasses explains.

"I wanted to suffer for our Lord, but my biggest hardship waswhen they didn't have frozen yogurt in the cafeteria."

She spent more than seven years at the Scarritt-Bennett Centerdedicated to educating laity, eliminating racism and empoweringwomen.

She served as the retreat center's accounting manager.

She served by visiting prisons, too, even though she didn't wantto.

She'd started going to one of the three nearby Methodistchurches. The controversial one, Norma says, in a poor neighborhoodthat believed what Jesus preached in Matthew 25.

Norma always had trouble with that chapter.

"I was OK feeding the hungry and clothing the naked, but when itcame to visiting prisoners, I thought, ‘Why did Jesus want me to dothat?' "

Dalinda was the first person she met behind bars -- an AfricanAmerican, HIV-positive, schizophrenic.

"She had the biggest heart," Norma said.

After that, Abu, on death row for killing a drug dealer. He'sstill in prison, Norma says, his case still under appeal. She wentback to Nashville in 2001 to testify on his behalf.

"I told them all the good things he was doing for himself andthe community."

That story isn't the first thing she tells strangers on hertravels through Nebraska.

If she only has a small window, she starts with money.

It costs a lot more to kill someone, Norma says, than it does tokeep him alive and in prison for life.

***

Back in Nebraska in 1999 -- after her time in Tennessee -- Normajoined Nebraskans Against the Death Penalty. She became a regularat its weekly vigils.

"We sit for what we stand for," she says with a smile, thecurved handle of her cane resting between her knees.

Last summer, the idea that led her to David City on this steamySunday started to take shape.

She was sitting in front of the Governor's Mansion when SallyGanem came out, curious.

The first lady asked questions, and then she listened.

"Being a bleeding heart liberal, I'm not in favor of much ofwhat our governor stands for, but I sure do like his wife."

A few minutes later, a man on a motorcycle stopped. They had anice chat, too. Norma didn't change his mind, and he didn't changehers.

But it got her thinking. Here she was in Lincoln, wherelawmakers gather and citizens hold rallies calling attention totheir causes -- death penalty opponents included.

What about the rest of the state? Who was getting the word outin Burwell? Or Franklin? Fullerton or Stanton?

Then she thought, "You old bag you, you aren't doing anything.Why don't you go?"

***

Last winter, after she'd highlighted all of the county seats inblue on a new map, she wrote letters to churches -- givingpreference to the Methodists -- wondering if they'd be willing tohost a potluck or a coffee where she could share her message.

"I reminded them that the United Methodist Church is against thedeath penalty and our bishop is against the death penalty."

Last month, two nuns went to see her off that first day inWahoo. A couple in Wayne gave her a bed for the night. Anothercouple -- a retired minister and teacher -- bought her meatloaf andmashed potatoes in Grand Island.

Albion had a breakfast for her. Six adults and a 5-year-oldshowed up in Grant. One man came to a salad luncheon at the churchin Rushville. His 28-year-old son had been murdered in Phoenixthree years ago.

"That took the wind out of my sails."

A fellow death penalty opponent, the brother of a Lincoln womanmurdered in 1980, went to see her in Central City.

On the small-town streets, people have been civil, she says.Some avoid eye contact, some smile. A few tell her they like hershirt.

When she has an audience, she tells them what she thinksexecutions do to us, as a society.

"We are hiring someone to take a life."

She tells them America is the only industrialized country toexecute people. She tells them Iowa does not have the deathpenalty, but has fewer murders per capita.

She tells them it costs "three to 10 times more" to executesomeone than to keep him or her in prison for life.

"If I see them losing interest I usually quit. I don't want tomake enemies."

***

Her mom was always fiscally conservative, Nancy Kail says.Washing bread wrappers, reusing foil, refusing to raise Nancy'sallowance without a good reason.

And it was the cost of executions that originally changed NormaFleisher's mind.

"Then, of course, she learned more and that some of the timethey're not even guilty."

They're all proud of their mom, Norma's oldest daughtersays.

"All of us kids agreed, we didn't want her to do it, but we alsoknew better than to even attempt to talk her out of it."

An 84-year-old lady in a car with 125,000 miles that has beenrolled once?

Norma understands.

"I've always called it ‘my hare-brained idea.' "

***

Sunday, after Runza and her afternoon nap and dinner at 6 withher grandson at Amigo's in Seward, Norma heads for home and ninedays of rest.

Then a final push. She'll swing west to York, Aurora, ClayCenter, Hebron. Then south and east to Fairbury, Beatrice,Tecumseh. The One Stag Café in Falls City. The Avenue Grill inNebraska City.

And up north to Papillion, one last Runza.

Since June 15, she's put 3,200 miles on the car she bought newnearly 20 years ago. She's seen more of Nebraska than she ever hadbefore or will after.

She knows she's blessed to be making the journey.

She doesn't know if she has changed a single mind.

Things That Make You Say WTF, Lady!!!!

2011-07-13T16:00:00.003-05:00

Today I took the fearsome foursome - Aidan, Asher, Jayden, and Julyan - to the zoo. Alone. I've done this before and survived and I like to live dangerously so I thought, what the hell. Pffft! What the hell is right, mkay?

First thing we head to the jungle. In there are all these fake vines, some of which drape over the walkways. I knew what was coming so I went ahead and asked an employee if the kids are or are not allowed to climb on, hang from or otherwise molest the vines. The answer? Yep, just don't let them climb out beyond the designated walk-ways, no playing Tarzan, etc... Good deal, hang loose, fellas! Aidan was just ahead of me - as he usually is - and he starts climbing onto a vine. Out of nowhere this woman right in front of him turns around and screams Get off those vines! Right now! and then proceeds to walk back to him and jerk him off of the vine.

Yes, this bitch not only yelled at my son but put her bat shit crazy hands on him RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME!!!

As best I can remember, after a split second of stunned stillness brought on by white hot rage, I got to her and pulled her by her shoulder off of Aidan. You better get your damn hands off of my son right this minute. I'll handle the parenting and discipline of my child, thank you. Now I didn't smell anything but I think she may have shit her pants at the sight of me - apparently she wasn't aware that mama bear was nearby. Well! He's not supposed to be on those! she snarled back. I looked around like Are you fucking kidding me right now? Um, actually he is allowed to be on them and even if he wasn't what the hell makes you think it's okay to yell at and grab someone else's child? Continued in my head - Like seriously, I don't know how you were raised, if your parents let random strangers man-handle and discipline you but if you want to get your ass whooped, touch my kid one. more. time.

And I spent the rest of the day seething about it. I mean, what the hell is wrong with people? The thought has crossed my mind to snatch some mean ass kid at the playground up and have words with him/her but damned if I'd ever actually do it. Not unless I wanted to start some serious shit with his/her mother. All I can say is...WTF, lady???

Happy 7th Birthday, Aidan!

2011-07-10T23:54:00.002-05:00

Today we had a triple birthday party for Aidan and his cousin Julyan, who share a birthday of July 12 and Kid Sister whose birthday is actually today. I could go through the whole thing blow by blow but I'm lazy so here are 693 photos of the event. Clearly everybody had a great time. Happy Birthday Aidan, Julyan, and Kid Sister!!!

Kid Sister

Skinny Bitch

Aidan's gift from Mama and Dad

Julyan and Jayden

Welcome to Iowa, Julyan!!!

Aidan's army birthday cake

Oh yes, he performed a perfect cake drive

Kid Sister's birthday cake

a little game of baseball

And finally it's quiet!!!

Greener Grass

2011-07-02T12:46:00.000-05:00

Jaci over at Ravings of a Mad Housewife wrote recently about picking her daughter up from a party at a friend's McMansion. She wondered if people who live like that, go to private school and buy $1600 purses, are happier than the rest of us, if their kids are happier than ours. She also did her damnedest to suppress the nip of jealousy she felt when comparing her house to the ones in that neighborhood. In the end she realized she's okay right where she is because who wants to vacuum 4000 square feet? Not her! Amen, sista! I agreed, noting that while I love our house and our neighborhood, we are one of the least pricey homes here, AKA the 'low rent', and it's hard not to be jealous sometimes. I mean when Aidan comes home from his friend's house down the street he talks about how 'rich' Friend's dad is because Friend has this and that and these and those and Oh mom, it's so fun over there with all those toys, I wish we were rich!!! At which point I suppress my desire to load up that HUGE playroom FULL of toys, that Nintendo DS, that scooter, that new bike, and that monstrosity of of playground in our backyard and haul all of it to Goodwill because Are you fucking kidding me right now, ya spoiled, ungrateful brat? Anyway, SO not the point of this post...

The neighbors behind us erected something along the lines of this in their backyard yesterday.

Their daughter, the two girls who live next door to us, and some random little boy were all playing on it. Jayden, Julyan, Aidan, and Asher were all lined up at the fence watching - just drooling over this thing that to them is the epitome of everything they dream of. Did the kids or the parents invite our boys to play? Um, negative. They just looked at them. I'm like Really? You're just going to let them watch? Really? I guess all that money can't buy you common decency. You suck! So now I'm hell bent to throw the most obscene birthday party for Aidan and Julyan in a couple weeks. I'm talking bounce house, water slide, batting cages, elephants... whatever it takes. And when those kids are drooling at the fence I will invite them over because even I'm not that big of an asshole.

No. Freakin'. Way.

2011-06-26T05:00:00.000-05:00

Debbie Gibson and Tiffany? Right here where just a couple weeks ago I enjoyed the fabulous Mumford and Sons? It's on like donkey kong, y'all!

Speaking of that Mumford and Sons concert. O. M. G. That was the best concert I've ever been to. The opening acts were Nathaniel Rateliff - click on image for his website

and Matthew and the Atlas - click on image for their MySpace Music page

Both acts were great. Seriously, go listen to some of their music and if you don't like it, well, don't tell me because I will think less of you. Just being honest.

Mumford and Sons did not disappoint. Now I have a huge crush on Marcus Mumford. And he wears skinny jeans so for me to overlook that, they've GOT to be bomb diggity. Because really? Skinny jeans on girls are questionable but on guys? Gross. No really, ew.

Aside from the fab music and lure of men with accents, the night was really made by my partners in crime, Skinny Bitch and The Sequel, as in Skinny Bitch #2 because not only is she a skinny bitch, she shares a name with the original skinny bitch. They're like their own circus attraction. Not in a bearded lady kind of way though. Anywhooo... Here is the terrible trio that was us that night. Good times!

Is it just me or is my head enormous??? Nevermind, don't answer that.

How 'bout it girls? I know you two love you some Debbie Gibson and Tiffany. I mean we all pretended to hate Tiffany in the 80's because she dated one of the New Kids on the Block and how dare she, right? But we all secretly had her cassette tape. Remember cassette tapes? *shakes head* .

♬ I think we're alone now... ♬

Teeball

2011-06-24T05:00:00.000-05:00

Despite the rough start to Aidan's teeball career, he's really taken to it. Not to get all mushy or anything but isn't he the cutest little teeball player?

Now I Understand

2011-06-23T06:00:00.000-05:00

Suddenly I'm not so 'oh pipe down ya freakin' ninnies' in regard to those who got all pissed over the attire chosen by Katy Perry for her appearance on Sesame Street.

Why the charge of heart? Well, I've had to pull out all the stops to avoid answering Aidan's question of "Mama, what's a menage a trois?" So thanks for that, Katy, truly.

Gawd, Brody, Must You???

2011-06-22T05:00:00.000-05:00

I've come to realize that Brody is kind of an asshole. I mean, pulling a Mike Tyson on Roscoe was one thing but as of today he's on a whole new level of asshole-ness. He has now peed on all of the dogs within three blocks of our house.

Oh yes, he pisses on them. And he lures them in to take his aim. If the dog doesn't run to the fence when we walk by, Brody will stop and bark until they do. Then, once they're within range, he literally turns up his nose, turns his head away and then raises that leg. And he's got deadly aim. I shudder to think of how our neighbor dogs smell after a Brody encounter. What a jerk!

Suicidal Sexy Beast?

2011-06-21T20:02:00.001-05:00

I think I said before that my sister and her boys moved here and are staying with us until their furniture is delivered to their new place. I've also mentioned that the Sexy Beast has been held captive at work 70+ hours a week but quite honestly it's actually good that he's not at home being subjected to all this chaos. You see, he's ~~exceptionally~~ somewhat anal retentive and the 4 little boys? Not so much. Well, on Sunday - Father's Day - the Sexy Beast was ~~hiding~~ sleeping in and I brought him his breakfast in bed. I'm staring at him waiting for my praises and here goes that conversation...

SB - What are you looking at?

Me - *in my head* Are you giving me an attitude right now? *out loud* I'm just waiting for the poison to kick in.

SB - *deadpan* It'd be a blessing.

Me - *eyeroll* Oh, puh-leeze!

Chewing the Fat

2011-06-20T05:00:00.000-05:00

Aidan is not unlike me in an anti-anorexic way - he has love handles. They're kinda cute actually. So one day they boys are down stairs and Aidan starts wailing and he comes up squalling about Asher hitting him. I asked Asher where he hit him because Aidan was unable to articulate that part. Asher's answer? "I hit him on that fat part of his back!"

Bwahahahaha!!!!

Which reminds me of one day when Asher said something about Aidan being fat and Aidan says to me "You know, Mama, someone must have heard Asher say I was fat cuz someone on the bus said it, too." As if the only way they would have come up with that was to overhear Asher say it. That made me feel two very distinct emotions - First, ooey gooey mom love - Aw, sweet Aidan, I love you my sweet sweet boy! and Second, red hot anger - Which little bastard called you fat cuz I'm gonna beat his skinny little ass! The first brat who makes him cry with a remark like that will find him/herself with one pissed off mama bear on their ass. He might make me wish I was dead sixteen times a day but nobody better hurt him, by God!

Happy Father's Day

2011-06-19T20:05:00.002-05:00

A video my mom posted that had me slingin' snot. Something about men who say 'daddy', gets me every time.

Happy Father's Day to the Sexy Beast, my dad - Mike, and my step-dad - Freddy.

I'm not ready to say good-bye to any of you.

Wordless Wednesday - Cousins

2011-06-16T21:24:00.005-05:00

Aidan's face cracks me up!

People Are Stupid

2011-06-14T16:43:00.026-05:00

Yes, stupid. As often as I jump on the kids for saying 'stupid', I am perfectly comfortable saying the person who said this is, well, stupid.

I've mentioned before that our fine city is bracing for some massive flooding. It's all anyone can talk about. Last night at Aidan's teeball game - I will get around to posting those pics and videos at some point, scout's honor - people were throwing around facts - and I use the term 'facts' loosely - about the flooding.

Insert quote-y fingers here - "The government is saying this is going to be the biggest man-made, natural disaster in U.S. history."

*eyeroll*

Oh, really? Really? Man-made natural disaster? Do you hear the idiocy in that term? Yeah, you're probably right since I'm not aware of any of any other man-made, natural disasters, this will probably be the biggest one ever, you dumbass!

This Could Be The End

2011-06-12T08:30:00.067-05:00

For reals, this blog, my house, my kids, the Sexy Beast, me... we might not make it. Here's why...

Our city is precariously on the verge of massive flooding and duh, it's all the fault of the Sexy Beast - or so says John Q Citizen - so he's going in to work early, coming home way late, working Saturdays. This leads to #1 - if I want to get my run in then it has to start at 5am instead of 6am. #2 - he's ass tired and much less likely to come home and cook us dinner. I know, slacker, right? In the end he's tired, I'm tired and now, #3 we're all hungry.

Also a by-product of impending natural disaster, the shelter where I volunteer is holding animals from evacuated flood areas for people, aw, how sweet. Except that now the shelter is evacuating, bummer. All the county animals are fostered by volunteers - yep, me included. We have Rosco, a chocolate lab about the same size as Brody. What's an extra 100 pounds of dog in the grand scheme of things? The two proverbial bulls in the china shop got along famously until last night when the question of dominance was ferociously settled when Brody snapped and pulled a Mike Tyson on Rosco. His ear bled profusely for an hour plus. I broke it to the Sexy Beast that if I ever disappear he's going to prison because there is blood e v e r y w h e r e. Better alter your escape plan, baby. Clearly Brody is an asshole so I took Rosco back to the make-shift shelter in tears today.

And finally, my kid sister - she loves it when I call her that - is here with her two sons. They are moving here to our fine flooded city and are staying at our house until all their stuff is delivered. So let's recap this chaos - four little boys ages 3 to 7, two 100 pound dogs, and three rather traumatized adults under the same roof. Feel sorry for us yet? Now you know why I just now approved comments from Monday here on ye ol' blog.

What Did You Just Say?

2011-06-07T09:27:00.055-05:00

Yesterday I cleaned Goodwill out of all of their books. Okay, they have a few left but I came home with 39 of them. I was a happy girl.

And then Aidan opened his big damn mouth.

Gosh, Mom, you have a lot of chapter books. You read too many books. You need to stop reading and get some exercise.

Excuse me? What did you just say? I ran five miles this morning before you were even awake plotting your reign of terror over my life so shut the hell up!

Yeah well, you're still a couch potato. A couch potato that reads too many chapter books.

And then he took a chapter book to the back of the head as he walked away. I mean, really? I don't recall a couch in the backyard where I sit for hours every day while you swing the bat like you're having a seizure all the while rambling on about how Asher's pitches are so wild. There's no couch at the park for our three hour outings. I'm not on a couch at your baseball games - no sir, those are metal bleachers capable of scorching the skin from my body as I sit out in the blazing sun, not a shade tree in sight. I certainly do not make your breakfast, lunch, dinner, and numerous snacks throughout the day from a couch. I don't lounge on a couch while I watch you ride your scooter out front - also in the blazing hot sun, I might add. You know, for a girl who despises the heat and loves nothing more than curling up on the couch with a chapter book, I spend a helluva lot of time out in the heat, off of the couch for your little punk ass. Jerk.

Dear Skinny Bitch

2011-06-03T07:17:00.000-05:00

Dear Skinny Bitch,

I got shit on.

Yes, shit on. A bird shit. on. me. during my run. A run which I would never had been on if it hadn't been for you. So thanks for that. In retaliation, I'm sending my kids over. Smooches!

No Fair!

2011-06-02T05:00:00.001-05:00

Holy hell, those two words used together are no longer allowed in this house. I hear this at least 3400 times a day. No fair! Aidan bet me upstairs! No fair! Asher gets the blue bowl! No fair! He got more milk than me! No fair! No fair! No fair! For the love of God, STOP SAYING NO FAIR OR I'M GOING TO WRAP DUCT TAPE AROUND YOUR HEAD WITH ONLY SMALL HOLES AT YOUR NOSTRILS BECAUSE I'M NOT GOING TO JAIL OVER NO FAIR!

They fight over the most asinine things. I swear on my laptop they have actually thrown down over a rock. A ROCK! They fight over who brushes his teeth first and which one gets the mail. They fight over who gets the last kiss at bedtime and who gets on the front of the double swing. They argue about who Brody loves more and who made it down the slide the fastest. Honest to goodness tears are shed over who gets the blue bowl as opposed to the green bowl for cereal. It never ends. The Sexy Beast was picking up Brody poo in the yard and the boys nearly came to blows over who got to hold the poop bag. Then, when he was telling me about this Aidan pipes up with I found two more piles than Asher! followed by a Did not, me found more poop!

Just let that sink in. You smellin' what I'm steppin' in? Pardon the pun, I couldn't resist.

The point is this goes on and on, day after after day, non-stop from 6am until sweet baby Jesus puts me out of my misery with bedtime. It's important to note that during the summer their bedtime is not the strict 8pm of the school year. I think I could put forth a fabulous argument that the 8pm bedtime might be even more pertinent during the summer months because without that definite time for me to mentally countdown the hours of my pain we might not all survive. And if I drive myself off a cliff - yes, there are a few cliffs in Iowa - the Sexy Beast will never find a nanny that Aidan and Asher won't chew up, spit out, and then fight over who took the biggest bite. He could pretty much forget remarriage until they go off to ~~prison~~ college.

It's All Aidan's Fault

2011-06-01T07:50:00.000-05:00

Okay, it's a little bit Asher's fault, too. Aidan started teeball with a practice last week. His first game was yesterday - photos and video to come - so after I spent a small fortune on balls and gloves and helmets and bats and sports drinks the boys practiced all. day long. Which means I was outside with them all. day. long. And that is why by the time it came game time at 7pm I had to wear long sleeves because underneath I was rockin' this

So, in conclusion, if running doesn't kill me - and I still hold steadfast that it might - the kid's summer vacation might. Mark my words.

On Raising a Sexist

2011-05-29T05:00:00.001-05:00

Oh yeah, I'm talking about Asher. You remember when he realized I do not have a pen!s and therefore concluded that that fact rendered me useless to him. I take that back, I was allowed to keep wiping his butt. That I could do pen!s-less. Pig.

Asher's been in going to a soccer camp every weekend since April, which he loves.

Loved. He loved it at first.

Now? He pretty much refuses to play.

And why? Because his soccer coach is a woman. See, the first time her husband was there helping and Asher stuck with him the whole time. The last few times he hasn't been there so Asher's out. He says he only likes 'daddy coaches' because mommies are not coaches.

Where'd he come up with that shit? Pig.

I Lived

2011-05-22T15:23:00.000-05:00

Well, since God decided not to intervene on my behalf by ending the world before this morning's race, I had to run it. Clearly I survived. Also? No puking. There came a moment right at the start when I was pretty sure someone was going to be running 3.1 miles with throw up on their back but they were spared that horror.

My out loud goal was to finish in under 45 minutes. My real goal was to finish under 40 minutes. Yes, I have out loud goals and internal goals. See, I don't like to lose. I know I have run 5K in under 40 a few times. Usually it's more like 42-44, depending on whether or not I had to stop to throw down with an old lady over path rights. I figured if I told everyone my goal was under 45, there was a pretty good chance I'd make it and everyone would think how awesome I am. But if I revealed the actual under 40 goal and finished in 42 everyone would think I'm a loser. Yes, it's all about what everyone else thinks about me. When does that confidence with age shit kick in? Let me tell ya, it's not at 32 29.

So yeah, I finished in 39 minutes, 17 seconds. The Skinny Bitch finished with a fabulous time of 27 minutes - which, by the way, was a winning time in our age group - she's got the trophy to prove it. She kicked my ass but after she kicked it she came back to find me and ran to the finish with me. Almost makes me feel bad about calling her a Skinny Bitch. But then I remember that she gets to be skinny and the guilt fades.

So Much For The Rapture

2011-05-21T21:52:00.000-05:00

I heard the world was going to end May 21 at 5pm. Being the glass half full kind of girl I am, I thought to myself Self, if the world ends on Saturday, you won't have to run that race that sounded like such a good idea when you signed up. It's 9pm on May 21. The race is still on for 8am tomorrow. Son of a bitch!!! I don't know what my problem is. I run more than a 5K three times a week, this really isn't a big deal. Still, it's safe to assume I'm probably going to puke at some point before the race starts.

In an attempt to get my mind off all of this ridiculousness I decided to shop for new running stuff. Which led me face to face with my new mortal enemy - the elastic stay put *ahem, bullshit!* headband. These damn things will. not. stay. on my head. Do I have a large head? Is it abnormally shaped? What the hell?!?! I don't want to wear a baseball cap but can't just wear a ponytail because my hair falls out of it. Like I need another thing to worry about. It'll be all I can do to not come in dead last tomorrow. I feel this an appropriate time to say 'fuck my life'.

In the event you never hear from me again, console yourself knowing that I died knowing I was right when I said this running shit is going to kill me. And you've got the Skinny Bitch to thank for it. G'nite!

I Will Take An Old Lady Down

2011-05-18T05:00:00.045-05:00

I run along a bike/walking path, trail, whatever you want to call it. It's paved so maybe that renders it not a trail since I think of trails as dirt paths through the woods??? Whatever, that's not the point. People walk, run, ride bikes, walk dogs... I even saw a man roll a shopping cart along there once... I digress. Again. I'm trying to say that a lot of people use the path and I manage to peacefully share it with all of them. Save one. One wretched old lady. The damn path is 8 feet wide - plenty of room to pass me, the old lady obscenities aren't necessary. Clarification: 'old lady obscenities' is shit like 'move outta the stinkin' way there!' or 'oh for 'crimmeny sake, watch out!'. Seriously, she's wretched! And I've about had enough. You may look like Betty White but you've got all the charm of Hannibal Lecter and I've got a broom handle for your bicycle spokes next time, old lady!

Freakin' Brody

2011-05-17T05:00:00.003-05:00

I'm standing at the front door watching 3 teenage girls squealing and wriggling around inside a very small car parked in front of our house on Sunday afternoon and I'm thinking to myself What the hell?? Dumb girls. I hope I was never that dumb. Then I notice a large black mass in the mix. A thought slowly creeps up on me Oh shit, where is Brody? Oh sweet baby Jesus, that's him! By the time I tear across the yard he is sitting in the front passenger seat on the lap of an 80 pound girl and she's screaming What do I do, I can't move him, oh my God, what do I do?!?! Freakin' Brody!

On Monday morning we all load up to take Aidan to school - Brody included. When Aidan opens his door to get out, Brody jumps over the seat and hauls ass INTO the school! It was like he was a huge, black bowling ball and the little kids were pins falling aside as he barreled down the hallway. I threw the Jeep in park, chased him down, and drug him back. Meanwhile the drop off line has completely stopped behind me and you know how the drop-off line nazis like that. Freakin' Brody!

Just Wondering

2011-05-16T10:26:00.000-05:00

Would it be odd if I was the one to petition a court for Aidan's emancipation when he's 15?

This Is Some BS

2011-05-09T10:42:00.000-05:00

Dear Mother Nature,

I believe you delivered some weather here in Iowa that you meant for the freakin' JUNGLE and I'd like to request that you come back and take it away! Yes, I'm referring to the 300% humidity. I mean, really, are you kidding me? Don't start being a bitch already. I've seen the projected 95 degree temperatures for later this week. That's not funny, it's MAY!

Just so you know, I will periodically be bitching about the weather from now until roughly September. Take it up with the Skinny Bitch because if it weren't for this running nonsense, I'd just stay inside with the air conditioner set on 68 degrees for the next 5 months, there'd be no issue. During the summer months I am perpetually pissed off. Nothing to be done about it. I hate the heat, hate the humidity, hate hate hate being hot and sweaty... it's just a miserable time of year for me. Sucks to be around me June-September.

Sincerely,

Sick of the Damn Heat and Humidity Already

I'll Bite My Tongue No More

2011-05-05T05:00:00.088-05:00

I tried, I really tried not to comment on this. I stopped myself from writing smart ass remarks on the walls of Facebook friends who all but announced IN ALL CAPS that they are borderline racist and/or full blown simpletons. If I thought for a second that some of them came to their conclusions after even a fraction of a minute of self exploration rather than just parroting what their friends were saying, I wouldn't take issue. That's the God's honest truth.

The fact is Barack Obama was in office when Osama Bin Laden was killed by US soldiers. Why is everyone blowing a wad about him, the President of the US, coming on air and announcing the news? So he should take the blame for gas prices but how dare he take some credit for Bin Laden? Do you imagine it all went down without his having any prior knowledge? That someone just woke him up, told him the news and handed him a speech? Whether or not you support him, he's the PRESIDENT, he's who gets to talk when big shit goes down. Look at it this way, George W Bush just happened to be in office on September 11, 2001. Who did you expect to see on TV that evening? Personally, I expected to see the PRESIDENT.

I can't even begin to discuss the conspiracy theories alleging that Bin Laden is alive, that it was all a hoax to distract us from taking it in the ass at the pump, because my head might explode. Also, I don't like to think that the country I love is inhabited by barely evolved neanderthals. Is it a bit odd that his body was disposed of so quickly, that there are no photos? Yeah, it's odd. Doesn't mean it's not true. If we took the energy and brain power some of us use to "prove" Obama is running a scam and put it to, I don't know, fight homelessness or cure a disease, our country might be in a better way today.

Save your emails, I'll go ahead and preemptively label this post Got Me Hate Mail.

My Volunteer Career May Be Short Lived

2011-05-04T05:00:00.000-05:00

Saturday afternoon I found myself in Petsmart with two little shih tzus at an adoption event with a local shelter. You'll remember that last time I was doing this my dog shit in the store mere minutes after we came in from a bathroom break outside - the little bastard. This time around was a little better in some regards and a little worse in others.

Better in that my dog wasn't rumored to be a child killer and worse in that this time when my dog shit in the store I actually threw up.

Oh yes, I vomited in Petsmart. Y'all, whatever the substance that erupted from the ass of that sweet looking dog was was about sixteen different kinds of wrong. I'm truly worried for her health.

I'm gagging just thinking about it.

This a reoccurring issue with me. In fact I vomited not five minutes after meeting one of our neighbors. Right in front of her.

She came to the door thinking that a large black dog roaming around outside was Lexi. I stepped out into the yard with her while we tried to get him to come to us. Out of nowhere the dog stopped and vomited up what seemed like 6 gallons of thick, mushy, brown puke. We watched in horror as it spread out over the pristine white snow. And that's when I threw up. Right there in our yard, four minutes after meeting the new neighbor. Again, we both watched in horror as the puke spread out over the pristine white snow. I really know how to make an impression, hu? She mainly nods and waves now. I don't think she'll be coming over for any cook outs.

Evolution of Fear

2011-05-03T05:00:00.081-05:00

Having spent many hours gawking open mouthed at the videos and photos of the tornado destruction in the south, I'm feeling...scared today.

I lived many a Spring in southern Arkansas being drug into the bathroom by my mother every time the sky darkened ominously, my eyes in a perpetual state of rolling back into my head like any good preteen/teenage kid. I thought she was ridiculous. Even when a tornado did actually develop and our town was damaged in the 90's, I failed to gain that healthy respect, read: fear, of tornadoes.

Then April 9, 2009 came along and my hometown was absolutely ripped apart by a tornado. My folks' house, hundreds of other homes and businesses were destroyed - not to mention the three lives lost that night. That was the first time I felt scared of a tornado. Yet even that fear was sort of a That was terrible! But that was our hit, what are the chances it will happen again? That is to say, the fear passed.

And then last week 345 people (at last count) are wiped off the planet by tornadoes. Three hundred forty-five people. Numbers like that don't happen in the US. Not with Doppler and advanced warning systems. I almost can't fathom it. You can bet your sweet ass I've got that fear now. So should the rest of you. If you are lucky enough not to be plucking your family photos out of trees 3 miles from the rubble of your home today, go here and give a little something to help those that are.

Musical Monday - Firsts

2011-05-02T05:00:00.001-05:00

A reader commented that Coolio's Gangster's Paradise was her very first cd. So that got me thinking about my first cd - Ugly Kid Joe's America's Least Wanted. And my anthem was Everything About You because well, I was a teenager and I hated everything about everything and everyone.

What was your first cd?

I'm In Like Flynn

2011-05-01T05:00:00.001-05:00

Ours is not a marriage that declares war via flatulence. The Sexy Beast wouldn't dream of palm bombing me and I believe he can foresee the violent reaction that would result from a bedroom Dutch Oven situation.

Aidan and Asher, on the other hand... They are of the 'louder the better' school of thought and if one can manage to be sitting on the other when the urge hits, well, that's like being King for a day.

So the other day Asher and I are on the couch when a sound not unlike a duck squawking came from under me. Asher slowly turns to look at me and with a tone of utter disbelief asks me Mama... did you... fart? I snickered and owned up. A sly smile curled up on his lips and he gave me a slow nod that conveyed approval and more than a little pride. I may not have a pen!s but I fart so I'm worthy again.

Oh, Ew!

2011-04-28T21:49:00.000-05:00

Today I witnessed something that none of the warnings about the levels of gross to which boys aspire could prepare me for.

I am walking toward the house where the boys were playing with their friends and just over the hill I see roughly five little boys coming toward me. As they reach the crest it is revealed that they are dragging behind them a...

wait for this one, it's a whopper...

a deer carcass - skull with plenty of meat still on it still attached to a spine and rib cage. You'd have thought they were pulling up buried treasure - pure joy and pride emanating from their faces. I almost didn't have the heart to shriek and scream for my boys to get their hands off of it. Almost.

Pardon My Blog

Quote This - Bridesmaids

How 'bout I Do What?

Inny Minny Miney Moe

Planning Ahead

L Is For Loyalty

Probably Not What He Had In Mind

I've Really Got It Rough

They Started It

I'll Make Your Resolutions For You

I Truly Don't Know What I'm Doing

Secrets To Hosting Thanksgiving Dinner

Who Trains Wal-Mart Cashiers?

That's Gross

If I Was The Complete Package

Phobia Runs In The Family

Wordless Wednesday - Halloween

Me and The Three SB's

Call Me A Mommy Blogger, I Dare You

You Know She's A BFF When...

Yay, Yeah, and Yea - There's A Difference

There's Really Nothing Wrong With Cheating

Happy Anniversary To Me

I Need Aidan To Ride The Bus

Quotable Sunday

The Difference

There's Sexist And Then There's What Asher Is

Musical Monday - 3 Penny Acre

Balance the Budget, B

Screw It, I Quit

Musical Monday - Benjamin Francis Leftwich

Commercials Are The Devil

It's Time I Came Out of the Closet

Dear CBS and DVR

It's A Fair Question

Stupid Dora

Freakin' Men

Dreams

I Said One Day I'd Do It

Example #9702

Blue Obsession

His Last Name Is What?

Published

What To Do Today

1. Watch tv antel your mom waks up 2. eat brekfast 3. kil and eat sqirel and rabit

Where Did I Go Wrong?

Dear...

Little Ol' Ladies Ought Never To Clank

Kick Rocks, Dude

See, I'm A Good Mom!

Not Ready For THAT Talk Yet

No Rhyme Or Reason

I Almost Went To Prison

About That

Birthday In The House

I Win

Well???

Blog In Turmoil

Live Like The Indians

Us vs Them

Cha-cha-changes

Doctor Doctor

Preschool Saga

Wait, It's Time For School???

Why Do We Say That?

Is he a 14 yr old girl or a 7 yr old boy?

Is August 1 Too Late To Write About Our Fourth of July?

I Almost Forgot How To Blog

Wordless Wednesday - Cousins

Robin Hood?

Norma and Her Toyota

Things That Make You Say WTF, Lady!!!!

Happy 7th Birthday, Aidan!

Greener Grass

No. Freakin'. Way.

Teeball

Now I Understand

Gawd, Brody, Must You???

Suicidal Sexy Beast?

Chewing the Fat

1. Watch tv antel your mom waks up
2. eat brekfast
3. kil and eat sqirel and rabit