Friday, September 28, 2012

Fridays Hugs and Shanks!

To the TV shows that are all new and no longer re-runs – IWTHU. As I sit at home moping about missing Rambo – you’re my saving grace. My DVR is filling up and it’s almost as much fun as a Skittle bath.

To the hometown football games in chilly fall weather that require me to wear my new fuzzy boots and big ol’ cable knit sweaters – IWTHU. You remind me of the days when I stood on the sidelines in my cheerleader skirt that was just inches above my danger zone as I watched Rambo kick ass out on the field. He was never sexier than when he came off the field, hot and sweaty – straight to me.

To the arrogant guy I had to interview this week that didn’t seem to give a damn about what I was saying – IWTSU. You should pay better attention. Douche-waddle.

To the lame-ass obesity double standard in this country – IWTSU. I met a man this week at work and spoke with him and when we were done chatting, he got up and it was difficult for him due to his size. He literally out loud said, “I don’t fit in these chairs very well. They are hard for me to get out of.” I think my jaw dropped. I thought to myself – if a woman ever uttered those words – well – actually – a woman would never ever even think to say something like out loud in a professional setting. But because it was said by an obese man in a Polo suit and tie – we all laughed with him.

Pop-tarts – IWTHU. Do you guys realize that they now make MINI pop-tarts? Little tiny snacks shaped exactly like pop-tarts – only in baby size. They are the cutest little things ever.

To the possibility that Rambo may actually not have to get in the semi until 7am vs 3am – IWTHU. If this actually occurs, the plan is to take a naked afternoon nap, followed by the football game, followed by staying up late to watch Sons. Definition of bliss if you ask me.

To men with dumb ideas – IWTSU. Our neighbor wanted to catch some crazy raccoons that were milling about his house at night. He set out a live trap. Guess what he caught? A skunk. Now imagine Rambo and this other guy trying to sneak up on the trap, get a good angle to shoot it, then get it out and put it in a truck without letting it spray or getting it on themselves. I should have taped it for YouTube. Christ in heaven – I nearly peed my pants watching those two fools.

To getting off of work for the weekend in just 2 hours – IWTHU. It’s been a good, but long week, and I’m so ready to get in pajamas and stay that way for 2 days. Well – scratch that – we’re having supper with one of our couple best friends so I might have to actually shower and put on makeup for that.

Puppy chow – IWTHU. Have you guys ever made or eaten puppy chow? I am not related to Betty Crocker in any way shape or form but even I can make this stuff. I made an entire bag yesterday and it’s gone today. My kids love it. And it’s just fun to eat stuff that looks like puppy chow and isn’t.

Have a good weekend everyone.

Anyone you want to hug or shank this week?

Thursday, September 27, 2012

TTT - Ten Things Thursday!

1. While perusing Amazon this week as I do almost daily, I found a pair of Skechers boots I wanted. The boots are about $60 usually but for some reason they showed up as $18.00. I clicked on them 50 bazillion times just to be sure I was seeing it correctly. Then I ordered them. $18.00 flat. Free shipping. In my office two days later. Isn’t that wicked fun?

2. I also bought sunglasses with skulls on the sides. I have a dark side that I can’t escape and I have an unhealthy love of skulls. I don’t quite understand it myself. I just feed the addiction.

3. I only entered this century not too long ago and started actually turning my cell phone on and even more recently started texting. My oldest daughter just got a laptop and an ipod this week and I swear to God if I hear “Mom – when are we getting wireless internet?” one more time, I will shank her. I mean wireless is old news – therefore – it’ll be at least another 5 years before I take part in that revolution. How can she not know that?

4. Speaking of wireless internet. You know the abbreviation everyone uses of WI-FI….pronounced with a long I sound like why-fye would be? Well – a friend’s daughter this week proceeded to walk up to one of the guys at a store they own and asked, “What is the WI-FI password?” Only she didn’t say it like why-fye. She said it like weee-feee….with a long E. And she seriously thought that was how you say it. I am here to tell you that she will never live that down as long as she lives. The amount of shit she takes for calling it wee-fee is immense. Poor thing.

5. This week since Rambo hasn’t been home for supper, I’ve been working on my Mother of the Year award and told my girls to have cereal for supper. Twice. And me? Well – yours truly – has re-picked-up her Doritoes addiction. They were my supper. Twice. Did I ever tell you that for EVERY single birthday and holiday, when I was a kid, my Godparents bought me a bag of Doritoes to go with whatever other gift they got me. I saved money – to buy more Doritoes. At one point, I was afraid I’d turn orange – cuz my fingers did. Then for a while I gave them up – and now – I have found them again. I remember why I loved them so much. No – I don’t wonder why I have a muffin top in case you were gonna ask. It’s not the Doritoes. I buy the calorie free ones.

6. Yesterday I wore navy blue pants and a white and navy polka-dotted shirt that I got from the Gap. A girl I work with walked into my office and said, “Hey, did you watch Priv....?” and then she stopped mid-word, stared at me and gasped in horror. Um yup – she had on navy pants and the exact same shirt. We looked like grown up women douche-waddles who called each other the night before to plan our outfits. Someone wanted to take a picture of us for the company newsletter. I said no. And promptly told this girl to stay away from me the rest of the day. Cuz she’s skinnier than me. And looks better in the shirt. So I hate her.

7. So far I have an episode of Castle, Sons of Anarchy, and Parenthood on my DVR – waiting to be watched when Rambo is finally home and has the time to sit down with me. It’s unacceptable. I am forced to read spoilers so that I know what happened since it could be months before Rambo sits down. I told him last night to please tell his farmer boss that he’ll need to get off early today because we have DVR’d shows that are waiting to be watched. Harvest must be delayed.

8. I could use some serious advice on how to get my child to WANT to go to school. Today I drove her to the sitter’s house and she was fine. Then I got a phone call saying she wouldn’t get dressed and she wouldn’t go to school. F*ck a duck and call it Larry. I asked to speak to her so I could threaten her properly. She wouldn’t talk. The sitter put me on speakerphone. I got her to agree to go. Five minutes later – no go. Now Watermelon is going to be late. Next I pull the “do you want me to have Daddy call you?” So I call Rambo in the semi and literally say, “Help me!” So Rambo calls her. Then calls his Dad to go get her and take her to school. Good ol’ military Grandpa picks her up and gets her to school. I can’t handle this. She keeps saying she’s scared and I seriously think she has some of my social anxiety. Hard getting there but fine once she is there. But she’s 6 people. What have I done?

9. Last night I did something that proves my undying love for Rambo. Since he hasn’t really been home long for the past few days, I decided to take a little pressure off of him and step up at home. I decided to clean the cat litter. I am not ashamed to say I’ve never done it before. Remember me? Hater of poop? Rambo knows this. Anyway, I went downstairs. First it took me forever to figure out how to get the damn top off. Christ. And then came the gagging and coughing and holding my breath until I nearly passed out. But I did it. I carried that bag of cat poop upstairs and outside like it was the severed head of Satan and I had severed it myself. I am waiting for Rambo to notice. I want to make sure he knows of my immense love for him.

10. I just saw a picture of Hillary Clinton. Political leanings aside – I like her. As a woman she’s admirable and I think she knows her shit and personally – well – come on…that woman has been through it all with slick Willy. She makes her choices and doesn’t apologize and stands behind them. Other than that, I really just want to say one thing about Hillary. She needs bangs. Or a smaller forehead. Or a new stylist. There’s no reason for her to look like she’s 80 and hasn’t slept in decades. Then again – she’s probably pretty tired from keeping track of her hubby. Maybe she hasn’t slept in decades. Poor dear.

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

I Wish Wednesday.

I WISH that kids came with return receipts, money-back guarantees and power-train warranties. I know why they don’t though. Because on mornings like today, my ass would have been the first in line at the store asking to exchange my kid for some other angel who doesn’t throw tantrums and scream bloody murder before 7am. Would any of you like to know why my child threw a tantrum? Duh. Because she was cold. And didn’t want to get uncovered and get dressed. Ayup. Completely valid. An absolutely sane reason to scream, stomp one’s feet, do the ugly cry and blow snot bubbles. Gosh, I love starting my morning like this.

I WISH that everyone knew of my hatred of the P words…so that when I have a random discussion with my neighbor and she mentions that her husband has been puking and “shitting his guts out” she would know that my shanking her is just an instinctive reaction and it’s not personal. It’s just about the hatred of the P words.

I WISH I was more excited to work out tonight with my friend.

I WISH that my other friend wasn’t diagnosed with severe post-partum depression. It’s hard enough having an infant and then to deal with any of those kinds of feelings – just sucks. I told her to start using my tanning bed just to make her feel better and relax and have some time away from her baby. We’re just going to pretend that it doesn’t cause cancer.

I WISH it wasn’t the harvest season. I vaguely remember Rambo getting up at 3am this morning and hugging and kissing me goodbye and the next thing I remember is him laughing in the dark at me. Apparently in my half-ass awake state, I refused to let go of him. Oopsie.

I WISH a person I knew would learn to give 100% to a few things instead of 10% to a billion things. Rambo has his hands full with the prison and semi jobs and he doesn’t need her errors to make the other 2 jobs difficult. He just doesn’t have the time and patience for that at the end of an 18 hour work day and it makes me want to punch her in the vagina.

I WISH I could live in Jax Teller’s pocket. He’s the head of the motorcycle gang on Sons of Anarchy. And I love him. Cuz he’s so hot. And he’s the bad boy. And did I mention he's a biker?  Mmmm...

I WISH that people cared as much about the economy and politics as much as the people around me have cared about the Packer game ref screw-up this week. I love football as much as the next guy but if I haven’t protested about wages, gas prices, healthcare, or the Middle East terrorism…then I don’t think I’ll be protesting about a football game. Just seems a little skewed to me….but that’s just me, I suppose.

What do you wish today?

Tuesday, September 25, 2012


That elusive, slippery, hard to figure out thing called “balance”.

Who the hell has that figured out anyway?  It applies to so many things that it makes my head spin.

How much do I cook at home vs. order out?  How much do I work out vs. sitting on my ass?  How much do I save vs. how much I save?  How much this vs. that and who says what amount is right or wrong?

I know it’s an internal decision.  Everyone’s view of “balance” is different. 

For me, I mostly determine balance on regret.  Like will I regret buying a pair of boots that cost a fortune and wish I had that money back when I’m 90 and I’m out of Depends adult diapers?  Probably not.  I’ll still have the boots when I’m 90 and if I have to I can just pee in those since my knees probably won’t work anymore and I can’t use the boots for walking in.

Will I regret missing one of my daughter’s events because I’ve decided to run on the treadmill for 16 hours straight just to see if I can get in my skinny jeans from last year?    Probably.  So I’ll maybe do an hour and buy bigger jeans.  That’s MY kind of balance.

My latest balance struggle is work.  Specifically Rambo’s extra work.  I’m having a hard time with it and frankly, I’m surprised about my feelings about it.

I know this gig.  I used to live this life.  The life of a wife whose husband works during the harvest. Waaaayyyy back when Rambo and I got married on a Saturday in June…he left that following Monday and I didn’t see him for 3 months.  I was basically single for a few years and it nearly was the end of us.

We aren’t good apart.  It just doesn’t work for us.  That’s when the decision was made to come in off the road and work at the prison.  For just a year now, Rambo has been back driving semi on his days off from the prison.  There’s a lot of guilt associated in my over-analyzing head when I think about Rambo not having one single day off for 6 weeks at a time.

I wonder if we’ll regret deciding he should work so much.  I wonder if he’ll burn out.  I wonder if the “balance” is wrong with all work and no play.

I rationalize with the whole “we do what we have to in this economy”.  I justify it with “well, he might have 4 jobs, but I have 3.  I’m not slacking off.”  I know in my heart to Rambo it’s not work.  He is passionate about this job and would probably do it for free.  I know he carries a lot of pride in providing for his family well.

I wonder if the kids understand…though I remember having a father who worked too much all for me and understanding what that meant.

But now – it’s harvest time.  Rambo is no longer only working in the semi on his days off from the prison. He is up at 4am and to the prison for an 8 hour shift and then straight to the semi.  He doesn’t even come home.  He doesn’t eat a single meal in his home in a day.  He sees his children in their beds asleep when he finally gets home about 10pm.  He holds me in the dark as he gets a few hours sleep and gets back up at 4am to do it again.

It’s temporary.  It’s harvest.  This balls to the wall won’t last forever.  It is necessary. 

The prison is full of politics and some of the worst men in the state.  It’s dreary and depressing and tough and not an easy place to go to.  The semi is a refuge for Rambo.  While it’s manual labor, it is laid back and fun and there is a camaraderie to it that can’t be replaced.  Knowing he’s going into the semi, makes his day at the prison easier.

THAT is a good “balance”.

But we miss him.  Badly.  His physical presence can’t be replaced with emails and phone calls.  The girls constantly ask for him.  I miss his arms and his face.  His laugh.

And harvest just began.  Is it worth it?  Will we regret this?  Is this the balance being off?

Is it what you do in times when gas if $4.00 a gallon and groceries have doubled in cost?  Is it a life lesson to teach our kids what working hard is about?  Is it teaching them that sometimes life sucks and we miss people – but we have to do what we have to do?

I seriously don’t know. 

I do know that Rambo being gone this much is suddenly new and different and it takes time to adjust.  It takes time for things to “balance” out.  New routines.  New attitudes.

Part of me is proud to know this is my time to step up for Rambo.  While he’s working 20 hour days – it’s time for me to make sure he knows – that I’ve got everything at home covered.

From baths to lunches and homework and discipline and housework and phone calls and even some stuff from his other jobs.  I’ll do it all.  And carry pride that I have the ability mentally and physically to do that for him. 

That’s good for my girls to see too.  Some day they may marry men who aren’t home every night or can’t be around to do as much as Rambo usually does. 

I think balance will always be elusive for me.  Maybe it’s supposed to be.

Until I find it, I’ll just keep doing the best that I can….and keep on looking for it.

Monday, September 24, 2012

I'll show you mine if you show me yours.

Planners, that is. 

Seriously - I'm just not sure what I love more...eating, shoes, purses or planners. 
Highlighting, color-coding and stickers - OH MY! 

Let me show you.

This is my latest planner.  It's from Erin Condren.  And I'm seriously in love love love!

There are tons of different formats (even personalized ones with photos).  I chose the teal peacock feathers.  My name is on the front in the teal color (hidden for privacy)!

This is the front of my planner and the pens I couldn't live without.^

Believe it or not - though it looks like a mess - I can understand it!

The daily and weekly highlighted TO DO lists. ^

I send out birthday and anniversary cards throughout the year and adults get lottery cards and kids get $2 bills!  Just something little....

I went a little nuts recently. 
Bought a bazillion planner sticker sheets from 
Aren't they cute, though?

Alright, that's it. 

Fine.  Maybe it's not that exciting. 

Or maybe it is!

Do you have a planner?  What kind is it?  Do you love it or are you still searching for the perfect one?

Spill the beans.  Hearing about what other people use for planners is *almost* as exciting to me as color-coding my own.

Yes - I am clearly aware that I need to get a life. 

Feel free to roll your eyes. 
I'd probably roll them at myself if I could figure out how. 

Friday, September 21, 2012

My recap of my week….via hugs and shanks.

IWTHU – I Want To Hug U

IWTSU – I Want To Shank U

- inmate1 at the prison beat up inmate2.  The whole thing is caught on tape.  Still inmate1 swears it’s not him in the video.  To prove that it is, the guards need a DNA swab from inmate1.  Inmate1 refuses.  Fine.  Inmate will now go to court, a judge will give the guards the right to forcibly get a swab from him after he’s been tazed and is laying on the ground drooling.  What a dickweed.  IWTSU.  The last thing I want is Rambo close enough to any inmate who is refusing to be swabbed.  How can humans be so dumb?  They’re going to get the swab you effing idiot.

- Dear parents of little girl up the street – you’ve exhausted every single other parent on our street this week.  With the amount of time I wasted talking to cops, neighbors, other parents, guidance counselors and principals this week – I could have built a second Rome.  Useless.  All of it.  IWTSU.  Like so much.

- Though my 12 year old can be the sweetest thing on Earth sometimes – I’m here to tell you she’s no perfect angel.  She went from being on a huge high because she won the volleyball game with her last 5 serves to an all out drama filled crying tantrum in front of my mom and sister because her coach suddenly asked her to line judge.  I put on my Mom pants and said things like, “Check your attitude.  Suck it up.  We’re not asking you to do manual labor.  Sometimes in life we gotta do things we don’t want to do.  It’s an hour.  Get over it.”  It was like an out of body experience seeing myself say “Mom things” I’m pretty sure I swore I’d never say.  IWTHU and IWTSU Watermelon.  You frustrate me so.

- To the woman I have to work with in so many departments and on so many different projects – IWTSU – with the sharpest shank out there.  You frustrate me on soooo many levels that when I look at you I’m afraid fire will shoot out of my eyes.  Knowing that a bazillion other people feel this same way – just makes it worse.  I can’t understand humans like you.  And yes, I’m fully aware the feeling is mutual.  Still.  I hope you wake up with a large boil on your left ass cheek so you have to sit lopsided so people think you are always preparing to rip a fart. 

- Rambo – IWTHU.  For being a silly man with a penis who can think of nothing else but dessert….which makes me laugh when I need to laugh.  This morning by 7am I had this email convo with Rambo:

R:  I’m going to need some good dessert tonight.
Me:  No.  You already had some last night.  You don’t get anymore.  We both have colds still.
R:  I need some every day.  We’ve been slacking off.  Being sick is no excuse.
Me: Hmm.  When did this become a requirement?
R:  It was supposed to be that way every day since we got married.  Did you forget?
Me: That wasn’t in the vows.
R: I know that. It was an agreement between you and me. We need to get back at it.
Me:  I don’t recall that agreement.  You must have imagined it.

I haven’t heard back from him.  Which means I win.  Thank you very much.

- Rain, dark skies, thunder – IWTHU.  You are perfect for napping.

- Person who invented tiny little blue skull nail tattoos – IWTHU.  I mean really?  Little, pretty skulls on my nails?  Double hugs for you.

- My newest obsession?  UGG boots.  I want many, many pairs.  To the maker of UGGs – IWTHU – for making such beautiful boots (see the freaking STRIPED ones below).  To the maker of UGGs – IWTSU – for making them so damn expensive.  

- Friday – IWTHU – and never let go.  This ranks right up there with one of the most exhaustive parenting weeks of my life and I’m soooo over it.

- Person who scheduled me to interview a guy today – on a Friday.  Um – my hair is in a pony and I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt.  Cuz it’s Friday.  This guy may go from wanting a job here to running from the building in horror when he sees me.  IWTSU.  Geez.

The end.  Now tell me who you’ve wanted to hug and shank this week!

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Ten Things Thursday - Drazzie Style!

It’s Triple T day – Ten Things Thursday - courtesy of Mrs. LaureBelle!  Come – join the fun!

1.  I figured out something good about summer being over.  New episodes of my favorite TV shows are starting to come on.  My DVR is working overtime lately taping things like Sons of Anarchy, Parenthood, Greys, etc. etc.  All the more reason to come home, put on pajamas and never move from the couch.  Except to eat.  And maybe pee.
2.  Around these parts, it’s harvest time.  Corn-picking has officially begun for the farm that Rambo works for on his off days from the prison.  It is this time every year when I am again reminded that farmers are some of the hardest working people on Earth.  Farming is either in your soul – or it’s not.  Yesterday Rambo got up at 3am and he didn’t come back home until 10pm that night.    Back up at 3am to do it again.  Even after 19+ hours of manual labor, I could tell by the way he was talking and by how much more there was to be done – that he wanted to stay out in the fields.  His body was exhausted and needed sleep – but his mind wanted to keep going.  Farming will always be in his blood.  I talked to the guy I work with at my other job (he also works at the same farm as Rambo) and he had been up for 2 days straight with no sleep – picking corn.  Thousands of acres and a tight weather deadline and you have no choice.  I think it nearly kills Rambo to have to go work at the prison instead of being in the trucks and tractors.
3.  I went to a parent’s house last night for a meeting.  She is a single mom of two kids.  Her house could have been in a magazine it was so clean.  I wanted to shank her for showing Rambo what living in a clean home could look like.  My house isn’t like an episode of Hoarders or anything….but it looks slightly like a tornado went through it.  Three times.  I don’t have time to clean.  See #1.
4.  Banana is reading.  I mean she read individual words last year in kindergarten but this year she is bringing home books and she reads the books to me.  In sentences and paragraphs.  Like a complete story.  There is something literally magical about seeing a kid realize that they can read and how that opens up a whole new world for them.  It also means that for Rambo and I – spelling shit out so she can’t know what we are saying – no longer works.  Which sucks ass.  Now we only have hand signals.  And we look dumber.
5.  Our neighbors set out a live trap to try to catch some pesky raccoons last night.  This morning she called me frantically and said, “Um, can Rambo come over with one of his guns?  We caught a skunk and he’s pissed.”  Oopsie.
6.  Do you have a sex code with your sex partner?  On Parenthood – the big joke was that a couple on the show scheduled sex via their synced up smartphone calendars.  They didn’t label the appointment sex.  They labeled it “funkytown”.  Love it.  Our code is dessert.  Rambo emails me from work and always says random crap like, “What should we have for supper?  Is there a meeting tonight or a game?  Can we have dessert after that?  With sprinkles on top?”  Makes me laugh.  If anyone ever read his emails they’d think he was obsessed with dessert.  It is necessary to use code though – remember – we have TWO kids who read now!  LOL
7.  I have figured out that pre-picking out my 7 year old’s clothes the night before school does NOT work.  Last night we picked out her pink camouflage sweatpants set…because she is Daddy’s little hunting girl, right?  Yup – well – just for last night apparently.  This morning there was no way in hell that camo was going on her body.  She came out to the kitchen in a pink and black Harley Davidson shirt, skinny jeans and black high heeled knee high boots.  I gave her the look and she said, “What Mom?  I ride Dad’s Harley so today I’m a biker chick.  Duh.”  Duh indeed, turdball.  So much for prepping the night before, diva.  Now get your rebel ass in the car.
8.  Speaking of children – I told you last week that for some reason – me and Banana are obsessed with watching A Baby Story on TLC.  Pretty predictable show.  Pregnant mom has baby.  Not a lot of suspense.  Apparently I’m reliving the feelings of pregnancy and newborns.  Every single time Rambo sees me watching it he says, “We should have a little boy.  Don’t you think we should go adopt one?”  To which I respond:  ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR EVER-LOVING MIND???  Remember us – moronhead?  The people with 7 jobs and 2 kids and naps to take and tv shows to watch incessantly?  Go have a son with someone else and then come back to me when you are done and let me know how that worked out for you, mkay?
9.  And speaking of baby boys - I have to babysit a 9 week old baby boy this weekend.  That is either going to backfire and make Rambo want to have a son more OR completely work in my favor and make him realize newborns are only fun when they aren’t yours.  I may pinch the baby just to make sure he cries loudly while Rambo is holding him.
10.  Last night for supper I stopped at a local ice cream joint and got chocolate ice cream with M&Ms mixed in.  It’s getting cold here and I thought that maybe the owners were starting to worry that their ice cream profits would start dwindling due to the cold, so I had to be sure and let them know that everything is going to be okay and cold weather will have no effect on true loyal customer’s ice cream habits.  I am such a great community servant, don’t you think?

Tootles, my Skittles!