Wednesday, March 26, 2014

The proof is in the pictures!

Just to prove that I'm not blowing smoke up yo azzes when I say I did a few crafty things and made a few wreaths...I gots some pics for you. Feast your eyes on these puppies!
 
Remember when I told you that I was going to stripe my table?  Well I did!  I painted creme and gray stripes on the table and left a wood-grain stripe in between as well.  Then where each of us sits - I painted a blue heart (my walls are the same blue color).
 
My table was looking nasty from all the crafts I have done on it.  Think paint dots and scuffs everywhere (can't see in the pic) so it needed a facelift. 
 
I put a few layers of sealant on when I was done it's all shiny and easy to wipe down.
 
 




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A few wreaths I made:

 
 
 
My coffee filter wreath!! 
 

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Things I know for sure...

1-Everyone at one point in their life should feel uninhibited and free enough to sing at the top of their lungs to a song they made up every word to. 

Last night I was in the kitchen and I heard a noise and I wasn’t sure what it was so I stopped.  And I stayed stopped – when I realized it was my 8 year old singing about a fluffy kitty that lived inside the clouds.  She was BELTING it.  Off pitch, making up the lyrics and the beat and twirling around like a fairy with a scarf tied around her neck as a cape all at once. 

That – is the definition of freedom and pure joy, my friends. 

I know for sure that one day – I will miss that singing.  I know for sure – that on a lot of days – I wish I was 8 again…making up songs and singing and not giving a damn who heard me.

2-I know for sure that there are certain things men do that women just don’t do. 
For example – on two streets in our town – there are HUGE – and I mean HUGE – black tire marks that go in all directions and in circles for quite a long way.  Like you see them and think – WHOA – that dude was drunk and also HAS NO TIRES LEFT.  You KNOW with every fiber of your feminine being that a MAN did that.  Twice mind you -  and that if by some chance there was a woman in the car with him – the whole time she was screaming – STOP IT YOU MORON – TIRES ARE EXPENSIVE!! – while she was slapping the shit out of his arm. 
3-Example number 2 of something I know for sure that men do that women don’t do? 

Women do not yell and call for their kids to come out of their rooms and into the kitchen on the pretense of asking for a random hug.  If it’s a man – it ain’t random. 

It is so that when the child hugs the father, his ass can explode in a fart that the neighbors can hear and he can yell, “OMG – look what you did!!  You squeezed that out of me!  It’s all your fault that the house smells like a chemical plant now!” 

It is also so that he can fall on the floor laughing at his genius-ness like he’s the first person to ever think of such a thing. 

Dude – it’s just the same as “pull my finger”…you just put it on sterroids. 

Save.  Me.  Now.

4-I know for sure that as I get older, I’m still not totally in love with every part of myself but I accept who I am and embrace it – rather than spend every waking moment trying to change myself. 
I used to literally want to be someone else, someone “better”…and now I’m sure that “better” isn’t so unattainable.  I just have to be kind, nice, compassionate and loving every day and that’s always better. 
Some days I just have to act like Satan too but that’s just a given.
5-I know for sure that someone should invent disposable toilets.  You should be able to use a toilet and press a button and the whole damn toilet disappears into oblivion and a new toilet appears.  No more cleaning a toilet ever.  I know this is a good idea for sure because I still work and live with and tolerate Explosive Man.  Enough said.

6-I know for sure that I have made some major mistakes in my life. 
I know that there are people I will never forgive – even though I should….because carrying the hurt around is exhausting. 
I know that I am flawed and I analyze too much and I hold too much of myself back out of fear. 
I know more and more every day that life is about intentions.  Hurt, fear, rejection, pain, betrayal – behind every single negative thing I do or has been done to me – there is intention.  If I could get past the emotion and look to the intention behind it….I’d realize that though I’m hurt or in pain – it was probably never anyone’s intention to make me feel that way.  And though I’ve hurt people – it was never, ever my intention either.  I’d forgive myself and others much more easily if I’d just remember that. 

What do you know for sure?

Monday, March 24, 2014

The Weekend Recap that isn't worth reading.

You know all those amazing bloggers who do a “Weekend Recap” and have laughs and memories and photos to show for themselves every Monday?
Yah.  That ain’t me. 
I just read those blogs in disbelief and envy because if I were to do a weekend recap post it would go something like this.
I got home Friday afternoon, put on my pajamas, and took a nap.  I never changed out of those clothes or left my house again until Monday morning.  Me and my little girl watched Frozen eight bajillion times and had donuts for supper.  No makeup, no hair-combing, no getting dressed.
The end.
Well, wait.  I wasn’t a complete loser.  I made a cool new coffee filter wreath (pics to come) and cleaned the bejesus out of my house and did some book work too.  And I kicked ass at taking another nap on Sunday. 
Rambo and my oldest daughter are gone far, far away attending a funeral so it was just me and the little one all weekend.  And I kinda loved it.  Like a lot.
Tonight is more of the same though I did manage to put on real people clothing and do my hair and makeup today for work.  I might decorate for Easter if I can muster up some ambition. 
My little hands hurt from making so many lists as of late and my brain is fuh-ried.  Lists about what we’ll need for the bathroom remodel and costs and who to call and timelines and blah blah blah.  Lists about bike outings/getaways and the deets surrounding those outings and daycare.  Lists upon lists about the new garage and how the hell that’s going to come about because of course – we can’t just build a normal sized garage.  Nope – we must build a garage the size of Egypt.  Jesus Lord. 
Trees have to be cut and groundwork done and on and on before you can even attempt to build such a thing.  Which requires more lists and more numbers and more discussions and God help me – I hate building and remodeling.  I know this because we have literally remodeled, built on or gutted every single room in our entire house in the 13 years we’ve lived here.  I know what it’s like to live in construction and every time I swear I’ll never do it again. 

Yet – here we are.  And there goes my mind. 
What was left of it anyway. 
Cripes. 

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Christmas music, candy, Mt. Dew and wreaths.

What a combination, right?
 
It is nearly full-blown Spring – however – Satan has decided he’d like it to snow today so just to piss him off and embrace it…I’m playing Christmas music in my office.  Honest to God – there’s something about that music that warms my soul.  Like if I shut my door and just listen to the old classics – then all is right with the world and rainbows shoot out of my ass, unicorns dance in the corner and Mt. Dew comes straight out of the faucet. 
Besides the Christmas music, I’m writing a business plan for a new venture my sister and I plan to undertake.  Even if it never comes to fruition – I care not.  The fun part is the planning, writing, and discussing it with my sister.  Seriously – this kind of stuff is nearly orgasm inducing for me. 
 I said nearly – don’t shoot me.
Why in the name of Kermit’s armpit would I want to add another “job” to my schedule?  Because.
Yup – that’s all I got.  Because.  I mean honestly – is there a valid reason that any sane person could make up for adding a 4th job to my life?  Nope.  However- I never claimed to be sane.  So there.  This job is one my girls can participate in and have fun with so that’s fun.  Yes?
When I’m whining and bitching about being too busy – please remind me that I did this of my own choosing, mkay?
Also - I had M&Ms for breakfast.  Jesus balls – those things rank right up there with Skittles. 
I bought 3 dresses online.  All of them are ugly.  Wait – not ugly dresses – ugly on me.  THIS is why I should only buy purses online.  They always fit.
I have a board meeting tonight.  I’d rather stick dull needles in my eyes and then try to read a book.
A relative of ours died this morning and all his kids are my age and all their kids are the ages of my kids.  Case in point – my worries about people I love dying – just keep coming more true every single damn day.  Christmas music in March and M&Ms for breakfast ease the pain a little. 
If I pretend really hard.
So far I’ve made wreaths out of felt, burlap, muslin, rags, and basically any other kind of fabric I have and now – I’ve decided to make a wreath out of coffee filters.  I’m running out of places to put these stupid wreaths so you can bet your ass some of them are going to turn into gifts. 
Speaking of wreaths – it’s nearly time to start Easter decorating, isn’t it?  Which also means it’s time for Reeses peanut butter eggs to be eaten every 5 seconds.  I could care less about Reeses any other day – however – make those little morsels into an egg shape and I’m addicted. 
 Okay – that’s enough.  I’ve covered about 8 bajillion topics in 5 minutes and it’s time for another Mt. Dew break.  No – you may not ask how many of those I’ve had already today. 
 
Just carry on.  Mkay?

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Shove your specials.

I’m writing a blog today so as to try to forget that I want to rip my own head off because I have a mother-effing migraine and my pain pill hasn’t kicked in yet. 

Did I tell you guys that I finally got my second round of Botox for migraines?  It’s supposed to only work for about 3 months – but I got a full 6 months out of it.  Thank God – because it’s about $2000 per appointment. 

Anyway – just a few weeks ago I got my 30 injections in my head, shoulders and neck and it’s working again – except once a month.  Like today – when I want to jump off a cliff head-first.  Jesus, Joseph and Mary – make it stop!
So yah – pain is gonna equal a randompants post.  Feel free to move on.  I sure would.

I “thought” Rambo and I were doing some home improvements in late Summer/early Fall….until my stupid, interest loving banker decided to say to me, “Do it now!  We’re running specials!”  Well f*ck a duck and call it Larry!  I would totally change my plans if I weren’t the type of person that plans out when I’m going to blink.  Does she seriously think I can move building a huge garage with a loft and a new spa bathroom up by 4 months with just a hop, skip and a jump?  Yah.  Sure. 
Please shove your specials in that special place you call your ass.
I want to shank her for putting the thought in my head.
I’d also like to shank Rambo for being an assface who likes to stir up trouble regarding these home improvements.  A reaaallllyyyy old man who hates Rambo because Rambo got elected and the man didn’t – is telling everyone in town who will listen that Rambo and I are paying for things like garages with Village money.  He even went through every record the Village has to “prove it”.  Of which – clearly he could not and did not.  It’s maddening.  I mean everyone in town knows how this guy is and most people know better but it still makes me angry. 

Rambo?  Oh my dear, dear, penis-toting man thinks it’s comical.  He went out of his way yesterday in a group of guys to tell them all that we are building a garage and the Village is going to pay for it.  I can’t even say out loud the things I wanted to do to Rambo when I heard this.  It’s not funny.
I mean – sure – there’s proof beyond proof that the only people paying for our personal shit – is us – personally - but I’d rather not go there and waste my time proving it. 

Rambo also told my teenage daughter that he’s putting a workout loft in the garage so all the workout equipment and tanning bed will move out of our finished basement into the garage.  He then proceeded to tell her she could then put a sectional couch downstairs with a big TV and popcorn maker and blah blah blah for her for when her friends come over.
I’m pretty sure that Rambo has forgotten that at some point – the “friends” his teenage daughter has over will be of the male species.  IDIOT.  Seriously.  What was he thinking?  Does he not remember what we did in any room where parents were not present?

Whatever.  You want to know what I’m focusing on?  I shall tell you.
For the longest time, I have been searching for a really old vehicle to put in my flower garden – like a Slug Bug or really old truck with a back.  Why?  Because I’m going to fill the trunk or back or sides with dirt and plant flowers in it so it looks like flowers are growing out of the windows and trunk or truck bed. 

I have the perfect spot for it – however – finding said vehicle is nothing short of impossible.
Until now.  For real – like no shit – I found an old Slug Bug that is rusty but still in decent shape with tires, doors and all the right parts.  I asked Rambo to go ask the guy if I could use it for flowers and the guy said YES.  He only wants the parts – not the body!  And the best part?  I think it’s going to be FREE!!!

Oh my good God in heaven – I could almost pee my pants.  I mean I’m not going to want to be inside my house while the bathroom is a disaster so I might as well be outside working my ass off on this project right?  Right.
Here’s a few pictures of what I’m hoping it’ll look like!  Whaddya think?  And by asking what you think I mean if you don’t love it – you’re not allowed to say anything, mkay?


Pain pill is working - time to get back to work! 

Monday, March 17, 2014

My body betrayed me.

My body is a force of nature.  The fact that it has produced two healthy humans is a feat unto itself that defies logic.  I know the power my body holds and yet – there are so many things I wish were different about it.

I’m specifically talking about my social anxiety.  If I gave in to my hermit tendencies and let them win – I would never, ever leave my house.  Like ever.  If I won the lottery and had money coming out of my ears – I’d use it to enable myself to never have to see any other human beings in the world except my closest family members.  I wouldn’t travel or go places or make visits.  I would stay.  In my house.  Every single day and love every single moment.
Now though - I go to events and out with friends and for days and hours before the moment I’m supposed to leave – I try to figure out ways to get out of it.  I pray for the person I’m meeting to cancel on me.  I pray that my car doesn’t start or I get sick and I have to cancel.  Yes.  So classy, isn’t it? 

But then I go.  I do the pep talk in my head, I get ready, I worry and try to push the anxiety aside though the hives show up and my stomach starts to hurt and I sweat.  I’d do anything not to go but then my body would win and I would lose.
Rambo and I went out both nights this weekend with great friends.  I had a blast.  At one point, I had to get a tissue to wipe my cheeks because I had so many tears of laughter running down them.  How in the world had I – just hours before – been begging God to give me some reason not to go?

Anyway – I did both nights.  Had a ton of fun – like I said.
And Sunday?

My body was fed up.  Mentally and physically exhausted from the tiring efforts it takes for me to be social.  I hardly left my bed all day.  Completely worthless. 
My body betrayed me.  Two days of being social and it shuts down.  It can’t take anymore.  Had I had plans on Sunday – I would have cancelled.  I would not have left my house.  My body was screaming at me to shut the world out and revel in my space, my home, my comfort zone.  It’s the only place that my mind feels completely safe.

And I hate it.
I cried to Rambo saying, “Why can’t I be a normal person who goes out and is fine the next day?  Why can’t I be social without my body giving out the day after from the stress?”

I don’t know.  I doubt I ever will.  I mean – I’m closing in on 40 and if I haven’t figured out how to go out for a few hours with friends without nearly losing my mind – then I ain’t ever figuring it out.  It will always be work.  Always be hard.  The event will always be fun and always be worth it – and the aftermath will always make me angry and make me wonder why.
I want to be a person who wants the curtains open so the sun can shine in.  Instead I’ve always been the person who wants the shades shut and the light out.  I don’t want to see out and don’t want anyone seeing in…to my house or my soul. 

I want it dark.  Like my fears and anxieties are.  And if it’s dark maybe people will leave me alone and think I’m not home or worth the effort, you know?
Years ago – I wouldn’t have been able to push myself with enough force to make me actually leave my house and go out and such.  At some point in my life, I just decided not to let life pass me by and to “do it anyway”…even if my stomach was revolting and my body was hives from head to toe.  I wasn’t going to let my anxiety win and miss any more activities and moments.  But that doesn’t mean it got easier to do.

It’s just as hard.  It feels like preparing for and then running a marathon.  And the next day you are emotionally and physically spent.  Over and over again – I train for and run marathons. 
I just want it to be easy.  Just one time.  And know what that feels like.

It’s so mind boggling that my mind and body find it hard to be with the people I love.  It feels like a betrayal of myself. 
I’m sick of training and running.  I really just want to sit in the stands and enjoy the show. 

Friday, March 14, 2014

You can question my religion...but not my faith.

This week, when talking with a friend about something in another friend’s life that we both agreed would be so great if it were to actually happen – the friend said to me…”I’ve been praying.  I was going to ask you to pray but then I remembered you don’t pray.”

That was it.  A simple sentence and I was offended and insulted and mad.  I stated, “Just because I don’t go to church doesn’t mean I don’t pray.  I pray.  A lot actually.”
She said, “Oh well – I don’t know how you feel about religion anymore.”

Yah – you don’t….because you assume that going to church regularly = a strong religion.  Period.  You can be the biggest assbag in the county but if you go to church – somehow you’ve one-upped me in the religion department.
No matter what I do or say or how I live my life.  You base my relationship with my God on my attendance at a church for one hour a week.

I grew up in a strict, Catholic home.  You didn’t miss church unless you were dead.  Every week I was forced to go my whole life and I never understood much of it until I was older.  When I got married, I made the choice to stop going.  Contrary to popular belief…that doesn’t mean my faith stopped too.
You can believe what you want to – however – I can’t wrap my head around God only loving me if I sit in his house once a week.  I sit in his house 24 hours a day – wherever I am.  I don’t understand how it would benefit my kids to be forced to do what I was forced to do.  It didn’t work…because today I make the choice not to go. 

I’m technically a Catholic but I’m not a good one.  I believe in birth control.  I believe in the death penalty for people like the guy who raped a 2 year old that my husband has to treat nicely every day.  I don’t believe in abortion – for me.  However, I believe that every woman has to make that choice and I cannot and will not tell another woman that what I feel is the right thing for me is also right for them. 
I have faith.  A grounded, deep faith that I rely on in my most desperate moments.  When I see the beauty of nature or profound kindness – I attribute that to God.  I strive to be a better, nicer, and more compassionate human every day and I’m not too proud to admit that most days I fail.

I believe in a God who loves me for trying.  I believe in a God that bases my life on how I lived it, how I treated people and what’s in my heart vs how many times I sat in a church.  I may be Catholic but I don’t believe that’s the only religion out there or the only one that matters or it’s the “right one” and all others are wrong.  I just can’t believe that. 
There are many other religions that don’t believe weekly church gets you into heaven…and what if they’re right and we’re wrong?  Who the hell knows?

I find it utterly ironic that you – the almighty never miss a week of church person – find it okay to judge me and my faith and what I do and don’t do.  I find it amazing that once a week church hasn’t made you a more understanding and empathetic person. 
I see this everywhere in the people that never miss church.  I can’t lie and tell you that I’m not resentful of some of those people who have been nothing but hurtful towards me…because I am.  What did church do for that person?  Not a damn thing if you ask me.  It only allowed that person to meet their weekly quota per the rules.  And look down upon me, I guess.

And maybe you’ll say I’m justifying and rationalizing my inability to sacrifice one hour of my time for a God that has blessed me so much and maybe you’re right about that too.
Accuse me of anything.  Tell me I’m a terrible Catholic.  Tell me you’re disappointed in me that I’m not a model church-go-er.  Tell me I’m a terrible mother for not forcing my children to be a part of a religion that I myself, question at the deepest levels.

Tell me anything you want if it makes you feel better to judge me.  If that’s what going to church every week helps you to do and feel good about it – do it.
But there’s one thing you cannot do.  Don’t you dare question my faith. 

When I lost my best friend to suicide and every night I prayed to God to not let me wake up in the morning – He listened…and let me live.  When I screamed at him in anger and wept for hours wondering why – I know now that He was the only thing that pulled me through that….because no other human did.  Least of all anyone who went to church every week.  You church-go-ers didn’t even notice I was a teenager dying.
When I was in the throes of a severe depression and could not eat, sleep or move from bed – my heart was praying and begging God for help even if my brain was just trying to hang on for one more second.

When I had a baby in the NICU and missed Rambo so much that it was a physical hurt…God was with me.  Every single second. 
And in the most beautiful, joyous moments of my life – He was there then too and you can bet your ass I didn’t forget to be grateful or thank him 1000 times before I laid my head down at night.

What I have with my God is mine.  It is exactly what I need – nothing more, nothing less.  I could literally care less what any other human on this Earth has or doesn’t have with their own God.  It is none of my concern. 
Question my religion all day long and twice on Sundays while you’re sitting in church. 

But do not question my faith.  Just don’t.

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

People die and Conway Twitty makes it a little better.

When I was a little girl – and I suspect when most people are little – I never thought of death.  Never worried about it or knew anyone who had died (that I knew personally anyway). 

When I hit 15, I had my first experience with losing someone I loved deeply and it scarred me.  In places I didn’t even know existed.  It was a tragic, intentional death and my teenage brain could never – and has never – been able to make peace with it. 
Even with that though – death wasn’t something I became scared of.  When I said goodbye to people I was hanging out with - I never felt the urge to yell “be careful” after them just because I knew how precious life was. 

Because I did not know that.  I didn’t know life was precious.  Didn’t think it could be ripped away at any moment.  It just never crossed my mind. 
In my 20s and early 30s, death was a tish more “there”.  I had Grandparents pass away – some too soon and some after a long and full life.  Pain came with those deaths but I healed – usually quickly. 
Still – the thought of losing people and death never consumed me.  I’m pretty sure I continued to take life for granted most days.

My late 30s have been different.  Waaaayyy different.  It has felt like the minute I passed 35, God decided to let me know that loss in life is going to be constant from here on out.  The first 35 years were a free pass of good times and no fears….and that’s over.
Each month it seems a classmate of mine loses a parent or one of their parents falls ill and the realization that this could happen to me almost makes me nauseous.  I mean – yah, it could have happened at any time but like I said…pre-35…it never crossed my mind.

It’s like there’s a neon sign flashing that says, “ALERT:  You are now old enough to lose people you love at any time.”
I have attended more funerals and wakes in the last 5 years than I have in my entire 35 years prior.  I find myself wondering “why” a lot more when it comes to the meaning of life and what matters and what doesn’t. 

The fact that I’m going to experience losses – some immense ones – pretty regularly from here on out is daunting.  No – I can’t live in fear and this isn’t on my mind 24/7.  I’m just saying that though losses occurred forever throughout time…they never came with the knowledge that at some point – those losses would be mine too.  They’d be inevitable as I age.
I’d love to be young forever – thereby making everyone I love never age either…but that’s not going to happen.  I’d love to go back to a time when death or loss was the furthest thing from my mind but those days are gone too.  It’s happening all around me on a pretty consistent basis and it’s hard.

The only good thing that came with this daunting thought is that now I feel – almost on a physical level- how precious life is.  I was too young to contemplate that before, you know?  Now – I say I love you more.  I hug longer and tighter.  I say “be careful” to anyone who says goodbye to me as they walk out the door.  I pray for the safety of my loved ones – way more than I used to. 
I try to stay in the moment and literally remember fine details of events.  I try to come here and write things down so memories are not lost.  I try like hell not to fear what’s coming or who I’ll lose first.  I stop my mind before it goes too deep into thoughts like that.

I try to focus on the amazing things in life, give more than take and love like it’s brand new.  I hold on to little things that make these fears less with white knuckles.
Things like Conway Twitty.  That’s right.  The infamous man who sings “The Rose” – among many other famous hits.

Have you ever heard that song of his that literally starts with him and his delicious voice saying, “Hello Darlin’”?  Those two words are filled with so much love and emotion that it would bring me to my knees had he said it to me.  But alas, Conway can’t.
Rambo can.  He doesn’t do it often.  About once a week or so and it’s always been so long from the last time that I’m completely caught off guard every time.

It’s always when he’s in the semi.  He calls while I’m at work and I answer and all I hear is “Hello Darlin’” in a deep voice and my knees go weak and I turn 80 shades of red and I giggle like I’m 14.  I never know what to say.  I mostly want to say thank you to him…for the plan.  For knowing he was going to call me, knowing he’d have to purposely do his best deep voice impression, and knowing in his head that when I answered he would plan to say those two words to me from a favorite song of mine.
It’s the little things.  Things like that – that I will document here for my two girls…so when they lose me and Rambo, they’ll still be able to smile at these little things.

These little things get me through the big, shitty things…that I know are coming.  Some day.
How about you?  Do you think about death differently than when you were 10, 15 or more years younger?  Do you fear it?  Do things like Conway help you through it?

Monday, March 10, 2014

This girl is on FIYAH.

No.  I mean for realz.  My whole body is on fire.  The thing is though…I don’t even deserve any sympathy from anyone.  I decided to start tanning again which is to say start giving a damn about how I look again…and my bed just never really got so hot that I wanted to get out early. 

So I laid there the whole damn time.  Thank God at the halfway point I had brains enough to turn over but as I laid there and realized that I wasn’t sweating to death and dying of heat stroke – I also realized I should get my ass out.  At only 3 minutes left on the damn timer. 

Shitballs.  I laid in there for 17 minutes.  JESUS Christmas.  I will NOT be going downstairs to tan tonight.  I will only be running on the treadmill down there - thank you very much. 
Other than that, my weekend was guh-rate!  I got so much done.  I painted gray and cream stripes on our dining room table and put a 4 blue hearts on top – one at each chair setting.  I love how eclectic it turned out.  I try to decorate in the “shabby sheek” style but half the time I end up with just the “shabby” part.  However – this time it worked out.  I’m super happy with the results.

I made another vintage fabric ribbon too to finish off my barn board area so now that’s done.  I finished decorating a spot in the dining room with a chevron letter of our last name in gray and white to match the table, a wrought iron large flower and a cross underneath.  It’s a good mixture of metal, wood and patterns. 
I cleaned out our main closet downstairs which literally still consisted of 2 baby strollers and a carseat.  Um yah.  No.  My kids are 8 and 13.  If I ever use another carseat in my lifetime, it better be for someone else’s kid.  I burned the suckers in the fire pit last night.

Organized my craft paints by color and re-organized my ribbon stash too.  Finally put all our Disney VHS tapes in a tote and in storage because for the life of me I can’t burn them but we’ll probably never use them again ever.
I cleaned the entire workout/tanning room and vacuumed our front steps.  Even did the mother-effing dishes instead of making my kids do it.  Took a couple naps.  Did some book-work and watched Madagascar 3 about 16 times throughout the weekend.

I consumed massive quantities of Mountain Dew and pizza.  Never brushed my hair once or even put on makeup.  In fact, come to think of it….I didn’t even shower.  Ha!  You’d think that would keep Rambo from molesting me every second…but you’d be wrong.  J
Divine.  All of it. 

The only thing that sucked was the time change and losing an hour.  That whole thing makes me want to throw a tantrum that could rival a 3 year old who hasn’t had a nap.  It’s ree-dick. 
Oh and Rambo and I also made plans to ride the Harley this summer to go to see Kid Rock with a bunch of our other Harley friends.  I could pee my pants I’m so excited.  Nothing better than hot weather, good friends, leather, riding the Harley and Kid Rock music.  And pizza.  Don’t forget the pizza.

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Ten Things Thursday!



1-Remember when I used to be good at blogging?  I was an every day (Mon-Fri) blogger and I never ran out of things to say and now?  Something changed.  I know what the something was but I never thought it’d hurt my writing.  Or my need and want to write.  But it has.  And it bothers the shit out of me.
2-Rambo is home after his 8 day hunting trip.  And let me just say - !Whoa Nelly! – that was a long 8 days.  When he got home my girls ran to him and both of them started crying.  They couldn’t even help it.  It was a really sweet moment.

3-It snowed 5 inches last night.  That brings our total for the year to 8 bazillion inches.  If I hear the words Winter, Weather or Warning in the same sentence ever again - I’m going to shank myself. 
4-I am still obsessed with crafting lately.  This week I am finally going to paint stripes on my dining room table.  I can’t wait!

5-Today is Ash Wednesday and shockingly – I remembered.  I even had fish for lunch.  It’s actually my favorite time of the year.  If a rule says that I can’t eat meat – then it’s sort of like having another rule saying that I must only eat cheese pizza or fried cod.  It’ll be tough – but I shall make these sacrifices.
6-Speaking of Lent – I haven’t figured out what to give up yet.  I’m thinking I should “do” something instead of giving something up.  I thought about being nice to people or not saying the F word but I’m not sure I’d even make it one hour much less 40 damn days. 

7-Last night for supper I ate a row of Saltines.  With butter on each one.  And a Pepsi.  I’m the epitome of health these days.  I mean – I ran on the treadmill afterwards but still.  Kinda pathetic.
8-Basketball season is over for Watermelon.  It started in October so it’s been going on for 6 months so having a break is welcome.  She swished a 3 pointer in her last game, got scratched in the face, bled and got her eye poked.  All very appropriate ways to end the season.

9-My 8 year old came home the other day and said she heard the neighbor Mom say her little girl had “black bowels” and she wanted to know what black bowels were.  Um.  No.  Bowels is a word you don’t have to use or know the meaning of until you are 80.  Also - words like black bowels are the reason that eavesdropping is bad.  The end.
10-Banana fell asleep on me the other night at 6pm and I let her.  Literally and simply so I could stare at her face and watch her while she slept on me.  Knowing full well that when I told her to go to bed later that night that she’d never, ever be tired due to the nap.  I can’t help it.  I’m a sucker for kids that are cuter than shit who are sleeping.  You just can’t find a better definition of perfection and love.  You know?