Thursday, May 31, 2012

Right, left or middle?

My friend, RaeRae over at A Momma’s Desires and Pacifiers blogged today about being a liberal parent…sort of. It got me thinking about the kind of parent I am.

Side note:  I'm guessing this post will piss a lot of people off.  Oopsie.


What kind of parent would I be labeled if I gave a damn about labels?

I think it’s a lot like Raven…I’m both and I’m pretty happy about that. I don’t want to be extreme left or right in anything that I do. Sure – there are certain things I won’t budge on but mostly I wanna be somewhere in the middle.

I don’t hide the fact that I’m a conservative Republican and I’ve been known to start a political fight or two on my FB wall to defend my views….but I don’t want you to blindly believe what I believe. I won’t respect you if your views don’t have passion and feeling behind them.

I think most of all – beyond being labeled as a liberal or conservative parent – I want to be known as a patriotic, civil servant whose children are well-balanced.

I volunteer in my community and some day I want my kids to do the same. Instead of bitching about things – I want them to work to change things. I want them to stay informed and never ever miss a vote…even if it’s only a small election for our local school board members. I want them to know that voting is a privilege. Every time I vote my children go with me and they use the electic voter thingy for me.

I don’t make my kids go to church every single Sunday like I was forced to as a child. That’s not to say that they have no idea what religion is or that they are allowed to be devils at their whim. They know who God is and they receive sacraments but I’m just not into forcing them to believe what I believe. That backfired on my parents.

My kids will have jobs. They will drive cheap, beater cars with no mufflers and a tape cassette player that they have to pay for so when they have their first nice car they will appreciate it more. If they earn a dollar, they know they are expected to save 1/3, give to charity 1/3 and spend 1/3. If they want to take the 1/3 of spendable money and buy a nose ring or 16 packs of gum….have at it. I could care less.

I will not pay for their college tuition. My parents didn’t pay for mine. It made me work harder and faster to get out. I knew lots of kids whose parents paid their way and they never appreciated how much that cost or what it meant and they didn’t care how long it took them and most today don’t even use the degree. I think that’s an insult to their parents.

On the other hand, I don’t give a damn if they want to color their hair every color of the rainbow and want to be covered in tattoos. I believe in a person’s free will to do what they want with their body and face the consequences of those choices…just like I have. I don’t care if they aren’t straight-laced. Not at all.

My kids will be well-mannered and quiet when necessary. They will respect adults and especially anyone older than them. They will behave and listen. Period. There will be consequences if they don’t. They will have chores to do like emptying the dishwasher and garbages. They will know what it’s like to work and earn money. They will spend their summers outside every day. They will get dirty and they will eat junk food for supper sometimes.

I don’t care if my girls are lesbians. I don’t care if they are straight. I just care if they are happy. And that they give me grandbabies. Everything else about this topic is for someone else to judge. I’m no God. I’m just a Catholic conservative Republican who picks and chooses her battles.

Gay or straight, I expect my girls not to sleep with everything that moves. If you do – have at it. More power to you. I didn’t and nor did Rambo and I think sex is something very intimate. Our society today makes it seem as simple and easy and meaningless as putting ketchup on a burger. My girls will know it’s a big deal. At least while they are under my roof.

On the other hand – I have no hard fast rule like “you will not date until you are 18 or you will not marry until you are 30.” I was barely allowed to leave the house and looking back – my parents thought they were protecting me but it hindered me in a lot of ways. If my girls want to have a boyfriend when they are 12 (I did) – have at it. However, don’t ever expect that boy to be alone with you or go in your room or touch you while I’m around. That’s just how it’s gonna be.

If the neighbor parents 16 houses up let their little girl walk to our house by herself because we live in a small town that is safe – that’s great. My girls won’t be doing that.

If my kids end up being liberal Democrats – great. All I ask is that they vote. And stay informed. And know why they are liberal Democrats.

If my girls want to dress in all black or stripes from head to toe – they can. If they want to wear pajamas out grocery shopping – go for it. Unless dressing Goth or wearing PJs would be disrespectful and inappropriate – like at a funeral. If they want to walk out of the house with their hoohas or booblets hanging out for the world to see…well then they aren’t leaving the house.

If they want to ride motorcycles, I’ll show them how even if I’m scared to death for them. They’ll be required to wear helmets and know bike safety, but they can ride them.

They will probably own a gun and damn sure will know how to use it – to hunt or protect themselves. I believe they have that right.

If they want to take a trip alone after they are 18, I’ll probably let them go. They’ll know the risks and to be careful and they’ll damn sure know how to change a flat and follow a map and lock their doors. But they have to go – because I was never allowed to – even if it scares me to death to let them go.

If they are going to drink – they better do it responsibly. I did and so did their father. It can be done.

They will say thank you and please and they will not expect a handout or feel entitled to anything. Their parents believe in hand UPS – not hand OUTS.

They will learn that we expect them to help neighbors, family and friends – without expecting anything in return. They are expected to have their sibling’s back. No matter what. They will learn that being grateful feels good.

So yah – thinking about it – I’m strict and I’m laid back. I’m liberal and I’m conservative. I’m a hard-ass and I’m fun.

I’m not perfect. Parenting doesn’t come easy to me. I surprise myself often with the things I let and don’t let my girls do. Some things aren’t negotiable and others are.

It’s all a crapshoot. But I like to think I’m in the middle of the crapshoot.

How about you? If you’re a parent or if you were to be a parent – what would your “label” be? Right, left or somewhere in the middle?  Are there things you'd let your kids do that contradict your "label"?

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

WTF Wednesday.


It’s time for WTF Wednesday where we list anything and everything that makes us want to scream WTF!! Copy the badge above and paste to your own blog if you want to join in the fun!


• I wish that I understood brains and head games and thoughts and emotions more. I wish I had a magic wand to fix the people in my life that are so damaged and in so much pain that they can only do one thing – which is self-destruct. WhyTF does anyone have to go through that? WhyTF does the family have to watch? Helplessly. Rambo’s sister is in trouble this time. And I don’t know how to help her. No one does.

WhyTF does the fact that a person has a penis make losing weight almost effortless? Seriously. A guy here at work has lost 42 lbs in 10 weeks…and he hasn’t worked out once. I want to shank him in his skinny leg. WTF!

• A bunch of people we know just finished the tough mudder race. It’s a 13 mile race of obstacles with fire, walls, pits, electricity and lots and lots of MUD. Rambo is seriously thinking about doing it next year and wants me to do it with him. How do I tell him that I think I’ve turned into one of them annoying women who doesn’t want to get dirt under my acrylic nails? I used to live on a farm. WTF happened to me?

• I bought the 50 Shades of Grey book – just to see what all the hype is about. The weirdest thing about the book is the fact that I discussed it with Banana’s kindergarten teacher. Who is 8 months pregnant. On the field trip. It was funny…and awkward all at once. Mildly inappropriate but then again – she’s a woman just like me once you take away the teacher role. I’m into the 2nd chapter already and there’s still no sex scene. WTF is up with that?

• Next year Watermelon has to make a bug collection. Like seriously find real bugs, freeze dry them and stick pins through their frozen bodies onto a board and label them. My sister knows this and had the balls to send me a picture of a bug she’s saving for Watermelon that she thought was “cool”. WTF! No bugs are “cool”. I texted her back and told her to never ever send me a picture of a bug again or I would shank her. WhoTF does that?

• Banana thinks that the minute I get in the bathtub, that it is time for her to come sit on the toilet and have a chat with me. Probably because I can’t get away. Sometimes she gets right down by the side of the tub and chats. She did that last night and at one point leaned in really close and said to me, “Mama, why are there dots around your nipples on your boops?” I said I didn’t know. She then says, “Let’s take a closer look at them.” WTF!! Are you a doctor or nipple dot scientist? Why do kids have the insatiable need to know everything???

• Lastly – guess WhoTF designed my next tattoo? Guess how gorg it is? It has like triple meaning and I love love love me some tats with meaning. It’s Jenny – my bestie. It’ll go on my right wrist since a tat symbolic of Rambo is on my left wrist. It’s dainty and feminine yet strong and knowing she made it makes it even more special. For now I have scratched my other tat design until I can wrap my head around the meaning behind it and not feel pain when I think of it. I can’t wait to get it and show you all!!

That’s it for me! Now tell me WTF is up with you today!

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

He calls me Sissy.

I think all of us remember things and words and events in our childhood that we wish didn’t happen. Or that we wish had happened in a different way. Or perhaps we knew a friend who seemed to have everything we could only dream about in the way of love and acceptance from our parents or siblings. I remember very specific painful moments in my past where I swore on my own life that “as an adult” I’d change things. I’d never let my future kids ever feel even a smidge of what I was feeling in that moment. I wouldn’t perpetuate the cycle. I would spare someone else the heartache that felt like it was suffocating me as a child.


For me, childhood hurt doesn’t just come from my parents. It has a lot to do with my siblings. We were only one year apart but my brother wouldn’t claim me most days even though we were on the same sports teams and had most of the same friends and events. He hated me for that. If a rumor was going around about me – there was a pretty good chance my own brother started it or perpetuated it. He just didn’t want to have anything to do with me. And that nearly snapped my heart in half every day.

I spent most of my life hoping it would some day change. The only thing I ever really learned from my two brothers was that I couldn’t count on them. They wouldn’t be coming to my rescue or telling me they were proud. They would’t protect me or guard me or watch out for me. I was on my own when it came to siblings. And I hated it. It only further engraved into my head that something was wrong with me. I was “unlikeable”.

So as a mother of two children who are 5 years apart…I often wondered how they’d get along. How could I make sure that happened? How could I instill in them that no matter what – at the end of the day – they only had each other.

Siblings fight. That’s a fact. And I was okay with that but I wanted there to be a known and fierce love under all the petty stuff on top. I wanted both of them to know that no matter where they were without their parents – there was always someone else in their corner. Her sister.

To this day – I don’t know how it happened. My kids fight but I can honestly say they love less than they fight. They mainly get along.

When it really matters – I have not a single doubt that they’ll be there for each other and have what I never had.

I’ve seen it already. I’ve seen Banana, the 6 yr old, playing with all the neighbor kids and even if I’m right outside…if someone hurts Banana or says something naughty to her – guess who she calls?

It’s not me. It’s Watermelon, the 11 year old. And the astounding part to me is always that Watermelon actually goes over to her. I hear Banana say, “Sissy, he called me a bad word.” And I hear Watermelon lay down the law to the kids who made her little sister cry. Watermelon walks away like it’s all just part of the day when you’re a big sister.

In the morning when I’m in the bathroom getting ready, I tell Watermelon to tell Banana to wake up. But 5 minutes later, I also hear her say, “Want some help getting ready? I can brush your hair for you.”

When they go to bed at night and we’re dishing out hugs and kisses to them as the parents….at the end – they dish them out to each other.

Little hugs and little kisses and always, “Goodnight Watermelon. I love you.” And “Goodnight Banana, I love you too.”

It’s hard for me to hold in the tears….still….every time. I can tell you with every bone in my body that never once – ever – did I kiss or hug my brothers goodnight. Not ever. That my girls have it – without Rambo or I ever coaching it or telling them to say and do it…feels like a miracle.

I’ve heard from the teachers at school that even now – with only one week left of school – that Watermelon and her friends still allow Banana to play with them at recess every day. Watermelon almost carries it like a badge of honor. That she has taken care of Banana.

Just like when Banana was scared to ride the school bus the first week. I overheard Watermelon say to her, “I’ll bring my MP3 player for you and I’ll turn on your favorite songs and you can listen on the way to school and I’ll sit by you and hold your hand, okay?” She’d give up sitting with her older friends to make sure Banana was okay.

So Banana would go. Not afraid anymore.

Protected.

My job on the bus as a little girl? Was to sit as far away from my brother as possible. So he didn’t have to talk to me or see me or take care of me.

This weekend I got another dose of getting to see that I think my two girls will be okay.

It stormed at our house Friday night. Like the big cracking thunders and lightenings and even hail. One crack was so loud that I remember Rambo shot up in bed. The rain was pouring. It was a doozy. I knew that any second one or both of my girls would come running in from being scared. So I waited with my eyes open. Waited for them to come running.

They never did. Neither of them.

So I figured they slept through it.

They didn’t.

In the morning, Watermelon came in and said, “Did you guys know Banana slept with me last night?”

I said, “No. Why?”

She was scared. She came in and was crying and said, “Sissy, I’m scared.”

"So I pulled her under the covers with me and rubbed her back until she fell back asleep."

Later that day I asked Banana why she went to her sissy’s room instead of our room if she was scared and she said, “Because Sissy takes care of me and she’s right next door mom.”

Duh Mom.

Duh indeed. I can’t really explain what that one event symbolizes to me. That she goes into her older sister’s room for comfort – knowing she’ll get it – knowing she’ll be accepted and not yelled at – knowing she’ll be protected…makes the tears fall down my cheeks.

To know she has what I didn’t surpasses nearly every emotion I’ve ever felt. It heals some of the pain of the past. It means I kept a promise to myself though I don’t know how it happened. I didn’t make them love each other. It just happened. Thank God.

If it sounds like I’m bragging – I’m not. I’m writing stories like this so I never forget how amazing things like this are. This kind of love between sisters isn’t always common or normal. And maybe some day they’ll go through a phase and not like each other much…but for right now I want to remember that my girls had what I always wished for.

I want to remember to never take little voices that say “Sissy” in the middle of a thunderstorm for granted.

And I want to remember that things don’t always stay the same or hurt forever.

These days, when my older brother emails me or texts me…because he talks to me and needs me now…do you know how he starts out every single message?

He calls me Sissy.

Sometimes I just stare at the word in his message. Him calling me an endearment – hits me really hard. I waited a long time but we got there.

Today – over 30 years later – we talk. We have each other’s back. He’ll stand next to me and claim me. He loves my children. He cares about me and I know that.

I’m his Sissy now....even if he wasn't able to let me be back then.

Friday, May 25, 2012

BYOC - Bring Your Own Crazy!!


It's Friday my lovely Skittles...so it's time for ^^^^^BYOC^^^^.  (Copy and save the BYOC button above and put it above your very own BYOC post!)

BYOC is 5 little questions we answer to get to know each other better and to give our blogging brains a break!  Come join us & enjoy!!

1.  Tell me about your first childhood home that you remember.

*  The first home I remember is definitely not the first home we lived in.  It was a farm.  Not a milking cows noon and night kind of farm but a beef cow and pig farm.  I loved it.  We spent our days outside in the barns climbing on hay and swinging from ropes we shouldn't have or up to our knees in the creeks we knew like the backs of our hands.  We worked our asses off but had fun doing it.  I even remember castration day (ack!) and helping calves and piglets be born....and it's still the reason why one of my favorite smells is fresh cut hay.  Every house I've ever lived in was in one town.  Born here, lived here all my life.  Podunk.  Population less than 1000.

2.  What is hands down your favorite color on this Earth? 

Yes...I've definitely asked this before but it's a fun question so we're gonna answer it again.  PLUS - I renewed my love of my favorite color during the week by finding it in a Coach purse.  OMFG.

It's TEAL!!!!  I may or may now own both of these...as soon as they arrive on my doorstep. 


Seriously.  TEAL is like a color orgasm, yes? 

3.  What kind of hair do you prefer on your significant other?  Or what kind of hair is a turn on to you?

This is a funny question to answer...mostly because even just 10 years ago my answer would have been different.  Rambo currently shaves his whole head with a razor...until it's smooth and even shiny.  And?  I love it.  I find myself picking out the guys with no hair/shaved heads.  There is something ultra tough and manly about it to me.  I'm not into suit and tie guys...since I work with them all day long.  I'm into my shaved head tattooed up husband in his black BDUs.  That being said - I've been known to also fall in love with celebrities like the biker guys on Sons of Anarchy with long hair and big muscles and LEATHER cuts. 

4.  Now that it's summer...do you mow your lawn or does someone else?  How long does it take you?  Do you hate or love doing it?

I don't mow our lawn.  I'm not even sure where the keys are to the mower and have no idea how to run it.  (I should learn...women's lib and all.)  Rambo has just always done it since we moved here and got a rider.  At our old house we had to push mow it and I loved loved loved doing that.  I'd do it all the time.  Loved the smell, the exercise, and how it looked freshly mowed.  But now - my part is to take care of the landscaping and weedwack sometimes.  It takes Rambo about an hour to mow. 

5.  Repeat question:  Summarize your week.

Hmmm - no...wait.  First I gotta show you my all done Harley vest since I promised you guys that.


Okay - now to summarize my week.  I discovered a new shopping addiction and it's all Jenny's fault.  That's all I'm going to say about that.  My week at work flew by other than my wanting to shank my co-worker Martha Stewart to death with an expensive butter knife.  I did a shitload of landscaping with Rambo and that makes me super happy  And best of all?  I think it's going to rain and where I live it's damn near a drought so Ima gonna do the rain dance all night long!

Have a SAFE holiday weekend!!!

 

Thursday, May 24, 2012

TTT - Ten Things Thursday!!

Time for TTT – Ten Things Thursday courtesy of our skinnylicious LauraBelle. It’s easy peasy and fun! List 10 things about anything and let your brain run wild with making sense being completely optional!


1. I just ate a white Kit Kat for breakfast. I ate one for supper last night too. To say I have an addiction or obsession would be like saying I’m in love with purses and bling and shoes. It’s completely true.

2. Lately my “to do” list keeps getting longer and longer while my ambition level gets lower and lower. Maybe I should actually do things on the list instead of shopping for Coach purses.

3. Speaking of Coach purses….I lost the ONE purse I would have sold my left tit for on Ebay over a few bucks. I had to leave and couldn’t be there for the end of the auction. I nearly cried. I also have a new plan to make sure this never happens again. I’ll be calling my bestie and asking her to bid for me at the end if she can. She loves me enough to do that for me. Right Jenny?

4. Speaking of my bestie Jenny – she’s back to blogging and I can’t even tell you how happy that makes me. I’ll also be seeing her this weekend. We’re going back to Ulta and getting pedis fo sho!

5. I have been sucked into watching the Bachelorette. I have no idea why. The whole time it pisses me off. And seriously – could Emily be more perfect? Jesus, Joseph and Mary – I’d hate her if she wasn’t so freaking sweet. I mean she’s like a living Barbie and when she talks angels sing and unicorns dance. Gag.

6. I am a dreamer…as in when I finally achieve sleep I dream a lot or have nightmares. I’m always trying to find the meaning in them. I believe in angels and guardians and spirits and life after death. I believe that messages come to us in dreams from those who have passed. I believe this from watching psychics on TV and shows like The Medium and just from my internal faith. On the way to work this morning, all of a sudden I remembered my dream last night. My Grandma was in it. Not a feeling of her or the feelings of losing her but her actual body was in the dream. She sat with me. She had lunch with me in a restaurant. And this was right before some slightly scary things happened with Banana. Nothing life-threatening but I remember feeling scared for my child.

So yah – I suddenly remember that for the first time since she passed over 10 years ago – she appeared as her whole body in a dream. And even though I’m not a crier – big, fat tears rolled down my face as I drove. I couldn’t have stopped them if I tried. Just a few. And that was it. I saw her. Her whole body just like when she was alive. You can be an atheist if you want and I respect that but you’ll never convince me my dream wasn’t real or that it wasn’t her coming to me or trying to tell me something.

7. We have a long driveway. Last night, two small boys started walking up our driveway to come see my girls and play. We’d never seen these boys before. We know they are neighbors but they’d never come to play before. They knew our girls from school. They were smiling. Walking up the driveway. Then running to get to the girls. And then they saw Rambo coming out of the garage. He had on shorts and work boots so all of his tats were in plain view. He hasn’t shaved for a week and for Rambo that means he has a full black beard. I kid you not – both of those boys stopped mid-run and stood still when they saw him. Holy look of terror on their faces. They reconsidered for a second but decided to keep coming…but OMG – it was so funny to watch! Apparently Rambo can frighten small children without saying a word.

8. Rambo and I finished a 50 rock border on my landscaping last night. I potted some plants. Moved some lilies. Spreak rocks. Spread woodchips and watered. I’d say the front half of the house is done as far as landscaping goes. I have both sides and the back all left to do. It makes me want to cry. Or shank someone.

9. Rambo is calling in sick tomorrow to attend Banana’s graduation and picnic. I’ll never ever be able to put into words how I feel when he does stuff like that for our girls. Because not every little girl is that lucky. I can vouch for that.

10. Did I mention I’m seeing Jenny this weekend? Um, cuz I am. YAY!!

Have a great TTT, Skittles!


Wednesday, May 23, 2012

WTF Wednesday!

Woohoooooo! It’s WTF Wednesday…which, in Care Bear Land, can mean WhyTF, WhatTF or WhoTF just because that’s how I roll. I list some things that make me want to scream WTF for your reading torture enjoyment. Join me if you want to – it’s shitloads of fun.


WhyTF are men so stupid simply because they have a penis? My proof? I was standing next to our bed last night – naked – situating my 6 pillows and two 20 year old stuffed animals and my earplugs and my alarm clock (Rambo calls this “me getting my nest ready”) and I looked up and Rambo was staring at me and he says, “Don’t you wish you had your big boobs back?”


NO – asswipe – but apparently you do. Why would you just blurt that out?


No reason. I saw your boobs and it reminded me.


Reminded you of what? That you’re not impressed by my itty bitty titties. By the way – they aren’t “small”. They are C’s. Double f*cking E booblets are not boobs. They are bowling balls with nipples attached to a chest. I’d like you to have something hanging on your body that big for one day. You’d never wish them back again. Mother heifer.


And then I shanked him in the penis. Said goodnight. And shoved my earplugs in.

• Remember when I skipped a WW weigh in because I had been doing hours upon hours of landscaping and my scale jumped 6 lbs overnight due to how sore I was? Well the week after that I went a little cray cray food-wise because my pea brain was all like, “Well – the scale is up anyway – you might as well earn those pounds and make them real instead of water weight from excessive landscaping.” And I did. WTF!!! So the next weigh-in sucked donkey farts but by yesterday’s weigh-in I was back to within a pound of my lowest weight. Down 7.5 pounds so far. Thank you Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

WTF is better than a 3 day weekend? A four day weekend where I get to see my bestie!! That – in and of itself – is amazeballs BUT what’s even better is that it’s her birthday weekend AND I get to show her all the new Coach purses I bought.

• Speaking of new purses. I have an issue. It’s not even about purses per se. It’s about the COLOR teal….or any variation of teal. If an item is that color – I have to have it. Let’s go so far as to say that if a pile of poopoo was teal – I’d want to put it in a teal hazardous waste bag and take it home with me in a teal sealed container and store it on a teal shelf in a teal room. WTF is wrong with me? (don't answer that)  A new Coach purse that just came out had TEAL in it. I bought it in two different types of purse. Because of the color. I am sick I tell you. Sick.

• My Banana graduates from kindergarten this week and I took her shopping for a new outfit. After trying on a few and walking through the store, I asked her if she was ready to go. She said, “Yup, let’s get our crotches out of here.” WTF?? This was after she suddenly veered away from me and went to stand next to an aisle about 5 ft away and I said, “What are you doing?” Then I heard her say “excuse me”. I gave her “the mother look” and she just said, “What? That was appropriate.” Am I supposed to be proud that my daughter went 5 ft away to fart and said excuse me and then said it was appropriate or should I be appalled? I kept walking and pretended she wasn’t mine once I figured out what was going down.

• Do any of you watch Private Practice? A character on the show had a baby in her womb with no brain and she carried it to full term so she could give away all its organs since it had no chance of survival. In my real life – I know a woman in this situation. She too has chosen to carry the baby to term to give away all her baby’s organs. It is an awful situation and so creepy to see it play out on TV. WhyTF does stuff like this happen?

• I love Mountain Dew – sometimes more than I love my kids. Oh wait. No, that’s not true. Except when they are being snotlickers. Then? Every time I’d pick Mountain Dew. There’s a guy at work right that sits by the fridge that holds the Mountain Dew. When I go in and get one he has the f*cking balls to say, “Have fun drinking that sugar that is bad for you!” Like if he didn’t say that I would have NO idea that Mt. Dew was bad for me. WhoTF do you think you are?


Yes, yes…I will have fun drinking this can of sugar while you waste away the hours trying to figure out why you’re single and there’s a shank in your balls courtesy of me. Mother heifer.

• Lastly – um hello?? Miss Laura Belle sent me this nail polish because she knows my love of teal. Now I usually love LB but right now she is next on my shank list due to the fact that she just lost 6 lbs and now her whole body weighs less than just my left leg. WTF? Anywhoozle…isn’t this color lovely? Never mind the disgusting state of my nails – acrylics are off until landscaping is done so be nice.



That’s all I got for WTF Wednesday! Now share yours!!




Friday, May 18, 2012

BYOC!!! Bring Your Own Crazy!!

Anyone know what day it is? I don’t have to tell you – do I? Fine. Fine. It’s FRIDAY!!! That means it’s time for BYOC – Bring Your Own Crazy! We answer five little questions to get to know each other better and to give our blogging brains a break. Copy to your own blog and enjoy!!


1. What religion were you raised as a child, if any, and are you still a member of that faith today? Why or why not?

Selfishly, I ask this because I have a lot of questions about what happened to my faith. I was raised Catholic. Never missed church and I’d say my parents were borderline “strict” Catholics. I drank whatever Kool-aid they served up about our religion – because I was a child and I didn’t know any better and mostly because I wanted to do everything they said so they would love me more.

Today? I have revolted. Big time. If it sounds like I’m proud of that revolting…I’m not. I’m actually mad at myself for backing away from everything I ever knew religion-wise. I struggle daily to figure out why I’ve walked away. I want to know why. I need to know why. But for the life of me I can’t even force myself to be a “practicing” Catholic right now. And it doesn’t feel good. I have an idea of possibly why I’ve walked away but it’s a decision solely based on past pain and hurt and bitterness and as an adult today – it doesn’t seem valid. It seems immature and lame and almost like an excuse because I won’t let myself admit the real reason…but yet…I still feel it and allow it to keep me away from my church.

2. Do you have an all time favorite candy or do you change favorites often?

First of all – you all know I’m going to say I love Skittles and the chocolate version of Skittles – which is M&Ms. Taste is a factor but I can seriously say that the bright colors of both make my day and are a huge reason why they are my favorite candies. BUT I do change favorites often beyond that. A few months ago – I couldn’t get enough Milky Ways. Then I was addicted to Heath bars. And now?

Um – WHITE Kit Kats. It’s the whole white thing. Virgin candy. Unique color.

Oh who am I kidding? It’s cuz they are orgasms wrapped in pretty white/orange packages. Period. (It is not even 7:30am and I am eating one now. Addict much?)

3. Are you a green thumb? Do you landscape your yard or plant any flowers or a garden? Do you pay someone to do it for you? Do you not plant a single thing?

Ugh. This question exhausts me. I mentioned in my posts this week that we’ve been in our home just over 10 years and magically – that means that all our landscaping reached its limit and needs to be redone in some way. That wouldn’t be such a big deal except that we live on an acre and I’d have to say that nearly ½ of the acre is covered in landscaping. I’d love to bitch about this but I can’t - because I’m the one who did all the landscaping.

On top of what I already had, when my parents home flooded and they had to leave their home – I spent hours upon hours going back there digging up nearly every flower my mom had ever planted and replanting them at my house. I swore the flood wasn’t going to take everything…and now I’m paying the price. I have weeks worth of work to do. Thank God Rambo has agreed to help me. I should take before and after pictures. I mainly dabble in rare day lilies, irises and hostas. I do not garden. Jesus frick – there’s just no time for such a healthy thing.

4. Let’s just say you were a tattoo junkie and you were planning your next tat and it had to be words only. What words would you choose? A quote? Phrase? One word? Would you do it in English or a different language?

Um yah – another question just for me. I wrote about nixing my current tattoo idea this week after an unpleasant internal struggle….which leads me to the dilemma of what I should get instead. I’m leaning towards words. (or a cupcake if my bestie would finish drawing it…hint hint Jenny…lol)

If I get one word or a few words, I’d probably pick “unbreakable” or “warrior”. One of my commenters a while ago said that the mantra for compassion is “Om mani padme hum” and I kind of like that. I like “I fly with my own wings” with some intricate wings around it. I’m not sure if I want the words in English or a different language so that most people don’t know what it says but I would. I just don’t know if I want the tat to be “a secret only I know the meaning of” or if I want the tat to be in English for everyone to boldly see.

5. Repeat question: Summarize your week.

Oh gosh – this week has been a myriad of emotions. I made the decision to nix the tat with a reference to my dad in it. I took on a scary sex challenge and hope to try that soon.

A blogger friend of mine came back to blogland after she took a bit of time off to have her “beautifuls” (twins) and it’s refreshing to have her back. She’s a blogger that reads between the lines of my posts and I missed her and her comments.

Read mentioned there are only 133 days before BOOBs and I’m soooo excited. So excited that I’ve bought a few Coach purses just to have for the trip. They are necessary to make shopping easier. Duh.

My Banana spiked a 103 fever last night due to a bad ear infection and I hate it when my kids are sick. It makes me feel vulnerable and I just want to take it away for them.

School is almost over – YAY!

Rambo finally has one day off this weekend so we are going to jump on the Harley and ride like the wind and maybe pick a hotel and stop just for the hell of it. I cannot wait to spend time with just him. I’ve seen him every day but I miss him terribly.

Have a good weekend gumdrops!

Thursday, May 17, 2012

Scary sex project.

A certain person in my life suggested I try Kama Sutra (sp?) sex. Or is it Karma Sutra? I don’t know.

Side note – yes – I could be spelling kama sutra wrong but I refuse to google it at work. I think you can guess why. Just deal with the misspelling, alright?

Anywhoozle, words that she used to describe her experience with kama sutra sex were: hot, exciting, romantic, different, bonding, hot, and hot. When I asked her what I would have to do she described something that isn’t sex at all. Well, it’s like mind sex. Almost sex. Sex…ish.

You sit anywhere, cross-legged (never mind that only 5 year olds can do this comfortably for any length of time) with your partner and you stare into each other’s eyes for as long as you can. That’s it. No lie. It can be 30 seconds or 10 minutes. The longer the better.

You can laugh. In fact, you will absolutely giggle and laugh and that’s okay. You do that and move on and stay in eye contact. After a while you begin to touch your partner everywhere – mainly non-sexual areas. Arms, head, face, legs…etc. Places we often ignore.

Then you can begin to kiss. And I’m not going to tell you what happens next.

To quote a certain person in my life, “After that – it’s on like Donkey Kong!”

I asked, “Can’t I just wear a thong? It produces the same result without all the nasty eye contact stuff?”

She said no. I have to do the eye thingy.

Seriously? The thought of doing that with Rambo makes my stomach hurt. I mean I’m a “keep my eyes closed during sex” kind of girl.

It’s too intense for me. Too vulnerable.

Sometimes I tell myself – keep your eyes open – look at him…but that requires too much focus and I’d rather focus on ahem…other things.

And the fact just is that this anxiety-ridden, slightly insecure girl doesn’t make or keep eye contact with anyone in my life.

I told this certain someone that doing this – allowing someone to look into my eyes for a long time scares the hell out of me.

Because then Rambo could see into my soul. And I’m not sure my soul is open for viewing. I’m not sure my soul is worthy of being viewed. I’m not sure I can be that vulnerable and trust that much.

Ridiculous but true.

So then the other night Rambo said out of the blue as we were both working on our computers….

Hey. We should pick a month and have sex every day of that month. Like start on the 1st.


I said, “Why do we have to wait until the 1st? Today is the 15th. Can’t we go from May 15th to June 15th? Then we can start today.”

No. We have to start on the 1st. It just makes more sense.

Now – at that moment – I couldn’t tell if I was more proud that for once – my husband said something as OCD as I would have in that logically it just makes better overall organizational sense to begin such a project on the 1st day of a month.

Or more proud that he wants to have sex with me every day for 30 days.

I’m a little worried about 30 days straight – I must admit. I mean in all honesty – vaginas are a lot like purses. Even if you buy a good, quality one – if you use it every day – it’ll eventually wear out. It won’t function the same over time. It’ll be tired and have to walk bow-legged. Wait. That’s not right.

What I’m getting at is – if we partake in this little endeavor….there will be plenty of opportunities to try this Kama Sutra crap. Which I promised my certain someone that I would do.

I think I’d rather die and come back in my second life as the lint in Satan’s belly button.

But I’ll try it.

So how about you? What do you think of this Kama Sutra eye thingy? Ever tried it? Wanna try it and let me know how it goes so I can perfect the method before I do it? Wanna tell me to shut up and stop asking you such personal questions? Want me to stop telling you every detail of my life? Yes?

Okay.

Fine.

Well not really.  I'll be back soon to tell you how our "eye sex" goes. 

I bet you're on pins and needles, huh?

50% of Ten Things Thursday !!

It’s Triple T day – Ten Things Thursday!! We have permission to list 10 “randompants” things that have no rhyme or reason in honor of Miss Laura Belle. Me love you long time LB!



Ima only gonna do 5 because they are a bit long and that’s annoying for you guys to have to read!

1. Every day on my way to work I see an older man jogging. He HAS to be in his 70s…though he still has a pretty good head of hair. He is the oddest looking fellow. He wears a bright white 80s headband around his head. He tucks his swish pants INTO his white socks. (I’m guessing he doesn’t have a wife who tells him this is unacceptable) And he runs. At a pretty fast pace. So much that he has a “OMG – this hurts like a sonofabitch” look on his face the entire time he runs.

Every day I seriously want to stop my car, pull over, get out and jump up and down and yell, “YOU GO OLD MAN!!! You ROCK that run!!!” because I’m so awed and proud of him – but I don’t do it because I’m afraid I’d startle him and he’d trip and fall and break a hip and I’d be the reason his running career ended. Instead I just give him a big thumbs up as I drive by – which he never sees.

2. I might go see a movie with Rambo this weekend. I really want to see the movie “What to expect when you’re expecting”. Have you seen the previews? There is one part where a woman is in labor and she asks for an epidural and her husband says, “Honey – you said that if you asked for an epidural that it would only be the pain talking and you really don’t want one and I shouldn’t let you get one no matter what.”


She then slaps him hard and says, “GARY – GET ME THE JUICE!”


That was me 11 years ago. Before I had Watermelon – I told Rambo that no matter what I said and did or how much I yelled or cried or swore obscenities – that under no circumstances did I want an epidural and he had the final say so as to whether or not the doctor would give me one.


About halfway through my TWENTIETH hour of non-medicated one minute apart contractions – I said the hell with it and began BEGGING for an epidural.


I didn’t even get the words out of my mouth and Rambo looked at the doctor and said, “Give her the epidural.”


Nice backbone, huh? Thinking he could bear to see me in pain on purpose was dumb on my part.


Not so for my mom – she took the doctor aside and said, “Don’t give her one. She doesn’t really want it.”


Then I shanked my mom. And screamed for another 4 hours – without an epidural.

3. Me, Rambo and Watermelon watched a show last night. It was the season finale and therefore, it was a HUGE tear jerker. A baby died. A mother had to face it. Her colleagues had to face it with her.

I had tears rolling. Watermelon looked at me and said, “Mom – this is too sad.” – as tears rolled down her cheeks too.

Hours later, Watermelon said to me, “Mom…that show was awful. I had to cry.”

I said, “I know. It’s okay – so did I. Some shows can do that to you.”

She whispered, “Never tell Daddy, but I saw big tears inside his eyes too. They didn’t fall but I saw them there. Can you believe that?”

Yes. I can. I saw them too.

When Rambo was 17 and his Dad left for war and he had to take care of a farm on his own – he never cried.

When Rambo’s best friend took his own life and I had to be the one to tell him – he never cried.

When Rambo’s favorite person in his whole life, his Grandpa, was in a tragic tractor accident right in front of Rambo and fire prevented Rambo from successfully rescuing him so he had to stand there and watch his Grandpa die – he never cried.

In 22 years – he hasn’t cried. Except for twice.

And he didn’t cry then. He actually wept and sobbed and held on to me with a tightness I’d never felt before.

The moment Watermelon was born. And the moment Banana was born.

So when a show comes on that has to do with babies and mothers and parenting and it’s painful….then no…the unfallen tears in his eyes don’t surprise me and I have no problem believing it.

4. I suck at being a housewife AND a career woman. I can do one or the other really well – but both – um…not so much. The proof is in the condition of my toilet. Shrek would refuse to live there it’s so nasty. I cannot deal.

5. I think I have a shoe problem. I’m like the people on that show “Hoarders” except it’s only in shoes. I know I have a problem because this whole week I have been EARLY or right on time to leave my house - UNTIL the part of the morning comes where I have to find my shoes. Today after 10 minutes of digging in the shoe piles I told Watermelon and Banana that I had to finish doing my hair and it was now their job to find my other shoe. I walked away a little worried I may never see them again but I had to take that risk.

5 minutes later Banana came in and said, “I can’t find it Mom.”

Another 5 minutes later, Watermelon came in and said, “I can’t find it either Mom.”

Soooo once again – as has been every morning this week – I literally have gotten down on all fours and sorted through mounds of shoes trying to find the right ones.

This is a problem. The two 10 foot shelves made for keeping shoes organized are full – stacked 3 pair deep each. Is it wrong that I want to build a shoe “house”? I’d like to employ shoe smurfs also. Like I go to my shoe house in the morning and tell the Smurfs which pair I want and their cute little blue butts go in and find the right shoes for me. How could anyone ever have a bad day if the last thing you saw before leaving your house before work was a cute little blue Smurf handing you your shoes for the day?

Sigh. Seriously. It’s becoming a real time issue in the mornings. I’ve got to find a solution because as far as I know there aren’t any unemployed Smurfs hanging out in Podunk.

And no – I cannot pick them out the night before. Tried that. I always end up changing my outfit come that morning based on how I “feel”. I’m a woman. It’s my right. And duty.

That's all I got.  Can't wait to read your TTTs!



Wednesday, May 16, 2012

WTF Wednesday!

It’s time for WTF Wednesday here. I write a post of about all the things that make me want to scream WhatTF or WhyTF – either in a good way or a bad way. Try it! It’s kinda fun!


WhyTF does my child have to go through puberty? Can’t she be the ONE child on this Earth that just skips it? Case in point – last night she said to me:

Mom – you know how the nurse at school said that when we get our periods – our moods will change and we’ll get crabby? Does that really happen? Will my mood change?

Um – maybe. Every girl is different. Sometimes you don’t even notice a difference. Like me – I can’t really tell. Do you ever notice that I’m crabby once a month?

Yes.

WTF? I am not. What do you know – you’re only 11 anyway!


Whatever Mom. Oh and also – I played football with the boys at recess. I threw a spiral and got a touchdown. I figure that’ll earn me some points with the boys. You know – so they don’t think that I’m all girly girl – even though I totally am.

GOD HELP ME!


WTF makes some people so nice? Take Laura Belle over at Beer and Dogs. Do you know that girl sent me MINT GREEN nail polish (um – it’s my fave color) AND shitloads of new pastel Sharpie pens? I mean getting that package was like unwrapping an orgasm in an envelope! And then the blogger – Miss Katie J – sent me TWO adorb patches for my Harley vest!! Which by the way – is officially done. Blogger Leanne sent me the coolest hat she knitted using my fave colors too! Y’all are soooo sweet!

• I landscaped for nearly 6 hours on Sunday and the level of soreness I still feel today is asstastic. When I sit down to go pee, I have to use the rail on the wall to lower myself slowly and tears of pain form in my eyes. Each time I move in any way I have to stop myself from screaming out in pain. It freaking hurts to blink – I swear. And as a lovely byproduct of this soreness – my scale went up 5 pounds in one day – even though I didn’t eat much because I was working outside! It’s almost laughable. And it sucks pink plaid donkey balls. WTF!

• I watched the new Bachelorette with Emily Maynard this week. I don’t know why. The whole time I yelled at the TV, “This show is so ridiculous!! OMG – I hate him!! Jesus, Joseph and Larry – I want to shank that guy!!” The whole thing was as much fun as cutting my own left leg off. WTF!!! (Yes, I will watch it again next week. Sue me.)

• I bought two Coach purses a few days ago online. I’m nearly dying in anticipation of their arrival. WhyTF does it take so long to ship things?

• While I was landscaping this weekend – I had on a sports bra and a tank top. At one point in the day, I felt like my nipples were naked. I kept working. I ignored it. Finally it bugged me too much and I looked down and my entire sports bra was UNDER my booblets. Both boobs – completely hanging out – flapping in the wind. I can’t even tell you how many more times that happened in the day. Apparently bending over is not condusive to booblets staying in the confines of a sports bra. WTF! (My neighbors are thanking God I chose to put on a tank top that day.)

• I want to pierce my nose with the teeniest tiniest little diamond stud. Is that wrong? Is it unprofessional? WhyTF do I even care? My God – my mother will full out disown me if I really do it. Hmmm…if I can’t figure out my tattoo issue – I might as well pierce something, right? No?

Okay – that’s enough for today….now it’s your turn! Go!

Monday, May 14, 2012

Never trust a tiny brown spot. No matter what.

There’s a HUGE part of me that can’t believe I’m going to write about this story….mostly because by writing it – I have to re-live it and I’d rather wrap myself in taffy and lay on a bed of ants but also because it’s just freaking disgusting. Then again – in the past I’ve written about shaving vagizzles, vagizzle pimples and massively embarrassing sex issues too so I guess as readers, you shouldn’t be shocked.


It’s just a little story. No characters but me. I happened to be naked. I also happened to wail out a blood curdling scream or two.

Here’s the story.

I had a long day. I was tired. I decided to take a bubble bath after my kids had already taken their baths.

I pee. I undress. I get my towels out. I blare the radio. I’m about to start the water when I do a quick once-over of the tub. A few stray long hairs I had to get out and a small blackish-brownish square flat shaped thingy too.

This is where it gets sick and twisted. My first thought was that the small brown thing was a piece of a woodchip since the girls had been helping me landscape.

But then – then I decided it looked just like chocolate. And yes – the family of Draz’s has been known to partake in M&Ms and multitudes of other foods whilst bathing. Have you ever tried it? You guys think I kid when I say I bathe in Skittles and candy and such. I’m not. I mean I may never actually bathe IN them but I sure as hell bathe WITH them as I shove them into my mouth.

So I think I’ve hit the jackpot. Because what’s better after a long day than what appears to be a small piece of chocolate left behind. Just shut up with the fact that it’s a small – even teensy - piece of WET chocolate in a bathtub. Beggers can’t be choosers.

Just in case – on the off chance that I am incorrect and it’s a bug or something – I get down on my knees, naked – and kneel over into the bathtub to stick my head closer to the tub bottom to see if I can figure out what it is. (What a sight, huh?) It looks soft. Seriously – it is sooo chocolate.

To err on the side of caution I grabbed a washcloth to wipe it up. I can just as easily lose all my dignity and lick it off a washcloth as easily as I can lick it off my finger.

I wipe it up.

I get in the bath and start running the water now that all is clear.

I stare at my washcloth. Still – I’m just not sure what it is. I touch it. I smear it a bit. It’s brown. It’s soft.

Still – not sure. I mean we’re talking about a spot the size of about ¼ of an M&M without the shell. (still totally worth all this detective work)

What’s left to do but smell it?

Which I do.

HOLY MOTHER OF JESUS – IT’S PPPPOOOOOOPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!

Insert blood curdling scream. (Thank God no one was homeby this time.)

Insert me whipping the washcloth across the bathroom.

Insert me yelling – out loud – to myself in the bathroom, “What the f*ck is going on here?”

I mean can you imagine my horror and disappointment when what I thought would be a tiny piece of chocolate turned into a tiny piece of poop…the thing I hate most in this world?

Utter devastation.

No – I have no idea how a tiny miniscule piece of poop got in my tub. I don’t want to know. I want to barf just thinking about how close my nose was to poop. Non-infant poop. Real ass poop.

Apparently it’s my punishment for eating M&Ms and Mountain Dew in the bathtub.

Which by the way – I will never be able to do again without thinking of the poop washcloth incident.

Maybe I’ll start taking showers.

Friday, May 11, 2012

BYOC - Bring Your Own Crazy!

It’s Friday fun day! That means it’s time for BYOC – Bring Your Own Crazy! We answer a few questions to get to know each other better and to give our blogging brains a break. Copy to your own blog if you so desire and have fun!


1. Are you a “wake up on the first beep of the alarm clock” or a “hit the snooze button 50 times before you get up” kind of person? Is your alarm clock set to the right time?

• Oh good God in heaven and St. Peter’s peepee…I am soooo a hit the snooze 50 times kind of girl. I do not sleep well ever so it’s reeaalllyyy hard for me to get up. And I have 2 alarm clocks and yes – one is completely set 20 minutes ahead of the real time so I can fool myself into thinking it’s later than it is….but my brain knows I do this. It’s something a brainless crack whore would do and I realize this but it works for me.

2. Do you decorate for any holidays other than Christmas?

• We have a pretty big fireplace in our house that is the focal point of our living area and when I used to be a good mom who was hell bent on not ruining my children – I used to literally decorate the fireplace for every single month. New Years, Valentines, St. Patty’s – all of them. Once a month I changed things out – lights, d├ęcor and all. My kids loved it.

Now I know that decorating a fireplace won’t fix the scars I’ve given them so I gave up. No really – I just got too busy and too tired. Blech. These days I literally wouldn’t decorate for Cmas if my kids didn’t beg me to. It just represents work to me. And I have enough work to last a lifetime without adding to it.

3. Would you consider yourself a spontaneous fly by the seat of your pants kind of person or a massive OCD controlling planner kind of person or someone in between?

• It pains me to say this but yes, yes – I am the OCD plan out when I’m going to pee kind of girl. I won’t tell you how many planners I have for each function/job in my life. Lists are things I live by and I panic when they aren’t within reach. Rambo knows when I die – the first thing he should do is find my planners and he’ll have everything he needs to know regarding our finances and life.

With that being said – I am actively trying to be more spontaneous. That is sometimes hard with young kids because sitters need to be planned but jumping on the Harley and going for a quick ride just because is a start. Spontaneous = panic, anxiety, the unknown and no control and I struggle with that. I couldn’t control anything as a child so as an adult – I’ve been in overdrive most of my life. It’s kind of exhausting, really.

4. Tell me some of your MUST have hair products that you use consistently….you know - share your “hair routine”.

• I always use some kind of root booster/volumizer at my roots because I have fine hair. Right now I’m using Aquage and Big Sexy spray mousse. Then I blow dry the hell out of it. Then 80% of the time I curl every piece using either a 1” or 1 ¼” Hot Tools curling iron for loose curls. For tighter curls I curl every piece with a curling wand. 20% of the time I use a flat iron and wear it straight.

Right now I’m a big fan of teeny bows and little feathers in my hair peeking out. I use Paul Mitchell liquid hair spray AND Kenra aerosol hair spray. My hair right now is fairly long…quite a bit past my shoulders I’d say and even then – I wear extensions a lot for fullness vs. length. I have dark brown hair I color myself. My mom is a beautician and she buys professional bleach and color and has taught me how to mix it so I do my own whenever I get grays.

5. Repeat question: How was your week and what are your upcoming weekend plans?

• My week was good. I had a lot of fun chats with my bestie and stayed on plan with my Weight Watchers too. This week was FULL of board meetings and votings and errands so I feel like I haven’t sat down once. This weekend I have landscaping to do, Mother’s Day to see my mom, a girl’s night, and a women’s Harley day.

Rambo gets his 2nd arm band tattoo today and I “might” get to see a first draft of mine for my leg. This week Rambo was elected temp President/Mayor of our village so that’s been a whirlwhind and we found it that it’s likely to be permanent in the near future.

My Harley biker vest is being sewn TODAY. I can’t wait to show you it all done!! Next weekend I think we are going on a huge ride with lots of people and literally just finding a hotel and stopping!! (see – I can do spontaneous!)

Oh and the biggest news of all? So far the head lice is GONE. Sweet Jesus – I don’t even want to talk about it. Though I do have a story for next week that is WORSE than lice. No kidding. It’s horrific.


Have a good weekend Skittles! May you all ride unicorns and poop rainbows every day!

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

WTF Wednesday!

Welcome to WTF Wednesday. I make a big list of things that make me want to scream WTF (in a good or a bad way)…for no other reason than it feels good.


- I finally found a pair of Harley boots to go with my snazzy “club” leather vest. (The lovely blogger Miss Katie J sent me two patches to put on my vest by the way…can’t wait to show you all) My Harley boots are called “Tracy”. I was looking for a boot with the silver Harley tab on the front or side…for the simple vain reason that if I’m going to pay out my ass because they say “Harley Davidson” on them…then that name better be visible even when I wear my chaps.

These suckers were clearanced to only $90 AND I had to buy a full size smaller than I usually wear. WTF! I mean that’s good but so weird. Harley boots clearly run big.  There's nothing pretty and pink about them but here they are:

- I’m down another pound this week going into my 7th week of Weight Watchers. That makes my total down 8.5 pounds. WTF is up with that? (again in a good way). I don’t feel deprived or pressured. I’ve been running when I have time and when I want to and not guilting myself on days when it’s not possible.

- WTF is up with small town politics? I suppose big cities have it too. I can’t even put into words the amount of time and effort and thought Rambo and I put into our villages we work for…and sometimes we both just want to scream WHYYYYY???? That is all I have to say about that. Well that and I want to throw sand in some people’s eyes and kick them in the balls. And then point and laugh.

- We’ve been in our home 12 years this October and suddenly at the 12 year mark it appears that all the landscaping needs a makeover. WTF!! Now this would be fine if I was a normal person with one or two patches of landscaping. But nnnnnnnooooo! Ever the over-achiever – I have spent thousands of dollars and hours over the years and now have hundreds upon hundreds of plants, hostas and lilies to now move (10 yrs old = HUGE) and split. Literal tons of river rock to move. And craploads of dirt to get under my pretty nails. It makes my OCD insane just looking at it how it is now. I must fix it. Maybe I’ll take pics.

- Banana’s ENTIRE class has head lice. She called me on the phone and said to me, “Mama – I have the fleas!” Wow. I told her she doesn’t have fleas – it’s called lice. And now every night I get to sit like a monkey on The Discovery Channel and pick through my kid’s hair and swear under my breath at whomever brought this into my world – even though I know it’s no one’s fault. We have like 3 weeks left of school and this happened NOW! WTF. This shit ranks right up there on my list of things I hate as much as poop.

- I have a new addiction. WTF..so not in a good way. It is WHITE chocolate Kit Kat bars. In my little brain, somehow if the chocolate isn’t brown I tell myself it’s not as bad for me. Anything colored white is cleaner, more pure, less heavy, lower in calories…almost virgin-like you know?

- Rambo has this weekend off. WTF?! (in a good way) He’s taking me to a “Women’s Harley Day” and there’s going to massages, sales and a psychic. How cool is that? I’ll have a full report next week if I don’t chicken out!

Alright – your turn. What’s making you say WTF this Wednesday??

Monday, May 7, 2012

The *Ulta*-mate virgin no more!

Finally....Ima tell you what store my bestie took me to that I had never been to before.

It was ULTA!

And Ohmuhgee...it was the ULTAmate.  Shitballs of fire - we were in there for over an hour!!

Here's some of my haul:

And some more:



I got some Kenra hairspray and some Paul Mitchell hairspray and some other stuff I can't remember right now.  It was Fuuuuuhhhh-uuuunnnn!

How about you?  Have you ever been to Ulta?

Friday, May 4, 2012

BYOC - Bring Your Own Crazy!

Ohmuhgah. I know I’m always glad it’s Friday, but holy donkey balls – I’m super glad it’s here this week. And Friday around here means it’s time to get crazy. That’s right – it’s time for BYOCBring Your Own Crazy!


5 questions we answer in an effort to get to know each other better and to give our blogging brains a break! Join us!!

1. Do you have any Mother’s Day traditions?

• For my mother and for Rambo's – nope. We give them a gift but that’s it. For me? It depends. Most of the years Rambo has to work so it’s just like any other day. The girls always make me a card and Rambo always gets me a gift but no real, carved in stone traditions. I’m not a fan of Mother’s Day. I have no idea why. I’m just not.

2. Do you take a daily vitamin? Why or why not?

• I do…if I remember. I take magnesium because it has been known to prevent migraines. I take Vitamin D because my doctor said as women age, that we should. And I take a normal multi-vitamin. I only remember M-F because they are on my desk. I seriously don’t notice any difference from when I do take them to when I don’t so I have no strong feelings about them.

3. Do you wear perfume every day? If yes, what kind?

• Sort of. I spray on a body spray as I walk out the door but it’s not an actual perfume. Between numerous hairsprays and deodorants, I’m pretty sure I’ve mixed enough smells without adding a heavy perfume every day. BUT on date nights or whatever, I for sure wear perfume. I wear Juicy…only because I love how it smells on my best friend. I have sooo many bottles of perfume bought for me by Rambo over the years. This question reminds me I should set some of them out and start using them.

4. When you walk or run or work out outside – what do you take with you?

• I ask this because I’m really careless when running outside and I need to change that. 99% of the time I don’t even take my phone and I run on back country roads. My town has zero crime BUT that doesn’t mean anything. Even if I fell or was injured – I’d be plain screwed. The one time I ran in 100 degree heat and got heat exhaustion and dehydration I had no phone. I had no choice but to try to get home when really I wanted a freaking ambulance. And beyond a phone, I think I’d just feel better if I carried something like mace or pepper spray.

Beyond that I have the usual – water, music and my Polar heart rate monitor.

5. Repeat question. Summarize your week.

• My week was fine. It’s always hard coming back home after seeing Jenny because I miss her. I was completely a huge mopehead ALL week. My preventive meds are suddenly kicking my ass in the fatigue department again so that sucks. I’ve continued to stay completely on my WW plan and am on track with my weight loss goals. It’s been over 80 degrees this week so the plan is to participate in a charity Harley ride this weekend for Veterans. I’m looking forward to that.

Have a good weekend Skittles!

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

WTF Wednesday!

Welcome to WTF Wednesday. I make a random list of things that make me want to scream WTF!!! Just because I can. And because it’s fun. You should try it.


• My friend at work has a grandmother that was recently put in a nursing home. While cleaning out her grandmother’s soon to be vacant apartment, my friend went to the bathroom to pee. Wanna know what was all over one wall of the bathroom right next to the toilet at sitting level?


Um. Maxi pads. Used maxi pads to be exact. Stuck to the wall.

WTF?

Did you throw up yet? I mean the story is actually sweet. The woman was 91 and obviously wasn’t using these for her period but for that slight leaking issue women get as we age and sometimes the pads just weren’t all that used or dirty so she’d stick them on the wall to use another day so as not to waste a perfectly good pad.


I’d bet my left tit this women grew up as a child in the Depression era.


I told my friend it would have been cool to go in there and rearrange all the pads to say something or arrange them in the shape of a house or a maxi pad tree.


But then you’d have to touch them. Wow.

• Yesterday Banana was playing outside with the neighbor kids. I heard Watermelon yell down to Banana, “Hey, is Kate coming over too?”

Banana says to Kate’s brother, “Hey – is Kate going to be coming over too?”

Kate’s brother replies, “Nope. Her bowels are backed up so she’s laying down.”

Banana yells to Watermelon, “Kate’s bowels are backed up so she’s not coming over.”

WTF?

Three seconds later – and I knew it was coming – Watermelon comes into the office and says to me, “Mom, what’s a bowel?”

Rambo nonchalantly says, “She can’t poop.”

Honestly. Isn’t it just wrong that I know the little neighbor has backed up bowels? Who says that anyway? Isn’t the politically correct word “constipated”? Or how about a simple, “she doesn’t feel well”?

I cannot escape from poop. It follows me everywhere. Karma hates me.

• While visiting my bestie this weekend she took me to a store that I’d never been to before. I may or may not have had an orgasm just as I walked in the front door at the sight of the place. Angels may have sung. The heavens may have opened. I may have even passed out for a moment.


After regaining consciousness, I shopped. We were in the store for nearly 1.5 hours. In order to pay for my merchandise I had to sign over the rights to my firstborn, sweep their floors and give them all my jewelry. The lady handed me my receipt and said – and I quote – “Now that is a nice receipt.” It was large. She had to fold it multiple times and cut down a tree for more paper in order to finish printing it.


Jenny was giggling in delight knowing once again she had turned me on to something that I am powerless to fight. She also thought it was funny that she spent less than me. I was nearly sobbing knowing I was going to have to get another job to keep up this habit SHE started. She skipped out of the store ahead of me.


I was still in shock that with a total like that – it was still only one small bag.


BAG? What bag?

WHERE THE HELL IS MY BAG??


OMG – I left it in the store. I didn’t even bring the bag of gold that cost me a fortune out of the store. F*ck a duck and call it whatever you want but holy St. Peter’s balls – I have to go back in and get my bag of loot!!!


I sprinted back in. I walked through the doors just as the lady realized I had left my bag and I heard her gasp in shock and say “OH MY GOD”.


I just said, “Um yah – that’d be mine. Calm down. I’m here. Give me that.”


I went back outside. Want to know where my best supportive friend in the entire world was? Just standing there. Laughing so hard she was about to burst a coronary. Knee slapping, hyperventilating, I might die kind of laughing.

WTF?

I hate her.


Stay tuned for a blog post on which store it was and pics of what I got.

Until then – let me hear about what makes you wanna say WTF this Wednesday!

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

A little bit drowning. Sort of.

I am drowning. But only a little drowning. Is that possible? Or is that like being a little pregnant…meaning you can’t just be a little pregnant? You either are or you aren’t, right?


Well – not me. I’ve always been a little insane. I mean I live in Care Bear Land people. I fart gumdrops and shit rainbows. I ride a unicorn to work and Mountain Dew comes out of every faucet in my world.

So anywho – I am drowning – a little. It’s possible in Drazzie world.

Let me start by saying that I had a helluva weekend. Like good helluva weekend. Monumental in fact. I went to my best friend’s house. Which is 1.5 hours away.

I drove there. In a car. By myself. And I drove back home. In the rain.

While I was there, I attended a baby shower with multitudes of strangers. I never got hives once. I didn’t get a migraine. I didn’t poop my pants. My head didn’t spin around.

I.
Had.
Fun.

I even went to the coolest store on Earth for the first time courtesy of my bestie. (blog to come later on that)

I skyped with some of the coolest women in my life for an hour and laughed so hard I nearly peed in Jenny’s bed.

I ate Mexican and ice cream and even had a little cake (and maybe some more of those orgasms in a bag called almond M&Ms) BUT I didn’t go overboard. I mean yes – I had Mexican and ice cream but before that meal all I had was FRUIT. I managed to come home weighing the same thing I did when I left.

And today on weigh-in day? I lost another pound. I’m down 7.5 since beginning Weight Watchers. I worked out 12 days in April and went nearly 40 miles. While that doesn’t sound like much to many of you – let’s all recall that the month before I had done ZILCH.

Sooo yah…the weekend was fabulous. I came home to Rambo and my girls who ran to my car before I could even open the door telling me how much they missed me and how I was never allowed to leave without them again. LOL

I say that I’m drowning a little because after the adrenaline and laughter filled weekend, the exhaustion is hitting me now. Yesterday at work I came pretty close to shanking my co-worker just because she was breathing. It took everything in me not to start doing the ugly sob at my desk.

I spent the night in Rambo’s arms….as he sat at his computer playing old love songs and our wedding songs for me and the girls. I barely moved.

I’m also drowning in my other two jobs because other people are so incompetent. Sometimes I can’t do it all. I just can’t. Other women I work at the part time jobs with ONLY work part time yet I’m the one who is supposed to work full time and 2 part time jobs AND do their jobs too because they suck donkey farts. Um what??? I cannot deal with ignorant people!!!!!!!!

The problem is that it’s going to get worse. I’m fairly certain that Rambo is going to be elected the Mayor soon. We aren’t going to get less busy. Million dollar street projects are going to be his and my responsibility regardless of the fact that we have full time jobs elsewhere.

We took this on. Willingly. We enjoy it. We like to give back. I did this to myself. I get that.

But sometimes I get to bitch about it and that sometime is right now. Mother heifer – what was I thinking? Obviously – I wasn’t. I could seriously handle all this if everyone else would do their parts and not hand everything off to Rambo and I – simply because they know we are capable and competent.

Ugh. Enough of that. Donezo. I will survive. I am woman – hear me roar and all that good bullshit.

I’m going to go drown myself in a Lean Cuisine that will only be enough to feed a small Ethiopian child.

F*ck a duck and call it Larry. I can’t wait until WTF Wednesday. You can’t even imagine the shit I’m going to spew out tomorrow. Here’s a hint. It involves maxi pads stuck to walls and backed up bowels that aren’t mine. Cripes.

I bet you can’t wait, right?