Tuesday, December 25, 2012

it's not perfect, but it's perfect to me.

this has been a pretty nearly perfect Christmas season for me.  of course, i am me, so there have been plenty of non-perfect things.

  • two work screw-ups.  both my fault.  both causing me grief because i hate to screw-up.  both causing a bout of mild fairly short-lived depression.
  • more than two sibling fights which caused me to threaten to take away Christmas (again?) (can you even take Christmas away??).
  • a slightly skewed gift buying extravaganza in which the boy child was somewhat shorted.  thankfully he didn't seem to mind and in the end it all worked out.
  • Christmas cards that were never purchased and therefore never went out.
  • a family Christmas calendar that will not go out until January.  is it ironic that i give a calendar as a gift and it is late?
  • my warped thinking that since the kids didn't get out of school until the 21st i would have plenty of time to finish everything that needed to get done.
  • spell check not working and me not being able to spell appropriately right now.
and i am sure more things went wrong that i have completely blocked from memory by now.

the perfectness?

  • getting to spend time with a really good friend who now lives in Africa.  having her family here for the holidays has been just like old times.
  • a certain neighbor boy who listened to hubby tell him how to make the perfect fire and who has made two (three?  i've lost all track of time in the four days that school's been out.) perfect morning fires with the remains of hubby's night fires.  thank you, neighbor boy child.
  • a small group of fabulous neighbors who continue to make Christmas eve great and delicious.
  • being with my kids.  even though half the time they are trying to harm each other or drive me bat $hit crazy.
  • watching the painfully shy girl 1 perform in the annual Christmas school production.
  • going to my second Christmas cookie class.  this time with girl 1 and girl 2 in tow.  
  • seeing the kids' faces Christmas morning and knowing that all the non-perfectness has been worth it all along.
peace you guys.  i hope that the blessing of Christmas stays with you for a while and that even as it starts to fade you still have a tasty drink in hand and loved ones nearby. 

i leave you with these beauties created by the dayinthelife cookie makers.

my creations.

girl 1's creations.

girl 2's creations.  and to all a good night.

Monday, December 17, 2012

How to make voluminous lashes? First: Get lashes.

This is sponsored content from Blogher and Proctor & Gamble


How do you make a million dollars?  First:  Get a million dollars.  - Steve Martin

So, I was born with no eyelashes.  Okay.  I do have them, but they are about two millimeters long and quite pitiful. 

Mascara is my friend.  It has been since my mom allowed me to wear it.

I have worn all kinds of mascara with all kinds of brushes dressed in all kinds of tubes.  I have been the friend of curved brushes, straight brushes, thick wands, thin wands, waterproof, five hour, 10 hour, 18 hour (apparently there was a time when I stayed up for 18 hours at a time). 

I remember when experts told us our mascara wasn't working because we needed to throw it out every six months.  I also remember when they told us not to pump the mascara because that would activate certain chemicals and that could cause us to go blind.

After years of going through every conceivable kind of mascara I developed some serious eye sensitivities.  So, I switched to Clinique for everything.  For years I have worn Clinique mascara. 

Until about a month ago when I desperately needed some mascara.  If I remember correctly, it was right before Halloween.  I know it's hard to imagine that I would not plan well and not have the things I needed on hand, but that's precisely what happened.

So, when I was at the grocery store I decided to give Cover Girl a try.  I bought the LashBlast 24 Hour Mascara.  My first question:  Who stays up for 24 hours?  And subsequent questions:  Aren't we supposed to diligently remove all make-up at the end of the day in order to prevent aging which can occur seconds after you go sleep with make up still on your face?  So, who stays up for 24 hours?  Aren't their eyes so bloodshot by then that no amount of quality mascara is going to help them?

Regardless I bought it.  And, I liked it. 

The crazy coincidence is that this opportunity to post about it came up after I'd been using it for a few weeks.  So, here's what I can honestly say about it (because lying sucks and I suck at it):  It's not clumpy as I kinda expected it to be (sorry, CoverGirl).  It's surprisingly light in it's non-clumpiness.  In other words, it looks like you have mascara on (in a natural kind of way), but it doesn't feel like you have mascara on (that's really important for sensitive contact wearers like me).  It lasts for the entire time I am awake (which is no where close to 24 hours).  Someday I will test it for 24 hours and write another post.  Kidding! 

I like it and if you want to try it, there are some great deals right now. 
Here’s the deals:

15% off on a first-time order from a new customer, using promo code: A9Z-MN5-KY3-ISA

Free Shipping on orders over $25

Free Samples with every order
 
Click the links below to find them.  If you normally use this kind of mascara - please click my links and buy some more!  Great deals are to be had.
 



You can also find great deals on another Proctor and Gamble product I can honestly say that I love - Crest Whitestrips.  Love.  Them.  I have had my teeth professionally whitened because I love white teeth, but Crest Whitestrips are a fabulous way to keep them white in between whitenings (because teeth can never be too white, right?).  So, if you need white teeth - click on over and get ya some.





There are a whole bunch more fab deals right now from Procter and Gamble.  Check them out if you are so inclined.  Thanks for the read! 

My regular posting will resume as soon as I can get out from under wrapping paper, cookie dough, and not-yet-started Christmas cards.

Thursday, December 13, 2012

Is Christmas early this year? Or, is it just me?

CHEEZUS, people.  Short list:

1.  Buy presents.

2.  Wrap them.

3.  Make consolidated list with which to buy presents.

4.  Do not get distracted.

5.  Work out in preparation for another eating binge to rival Thanksgiving 2012 dubbed "Eatageddon".

6.  Buy soon to be 11 year old (when did that happen?) presents for his birthday...in FIVE DAYS.  *hit.

7.  Find out what said soon to be 11 year old wants.

8.  Learn to count on a list.

7.  Do not get distracted.

8.  Make a list for making the list.

9.  Drink a beer...or possibly a shot would be better?  In the head?

10.  Look at the calendar and see exactly when Christmas is.

11.  Have a panic attack because there is no way all of this is going to get done and spend the rest of the day being distracted and overwhelmed.

Shoot me.  Now.

Monday, December 10, 2012

Don't expect a thank you card and my restrooms aren't that clean either.

So, Christmas always make me feel like an underachiever.  Which I am.   So, I guess Christmas is like honesty?  Anyway.  Here's the short list.

1.  I got a Christmas card from some dear friends today and it is cute, clever, and their family is gorgeous.  I was shocked and a little disappointed to find out people still send Christmas cards.  Shocked because I have seen more than one poll on social media (oh, if I had a dollar for every time someone said "social media") lately that asked whether it was kosher to said out electronic Christmas cards (see what I just did there).  Disappointed because the guilt is laid for me to send out cards now.

Anyway.  My Christmas card (if they actually make it out before Christmas) is going to be a (most likely illegal) reprint of the photo I paid five bucks for at our church this past Sunday.  It's all four kids with Santa.  Boy child wouldn't wear the coordinated outfit I had selected for him, Girl 1 doesn't believe in Santa so she's eyeing the Santa suspiciously, the Santa is Mexican, Girl 3 is smiling but in a different direction than everyone else, and did I mention I paid only five bucks for the photo?  If I'm feeling merry I will put a saying on it.  If not, it will say "Merry Christmas!"

2.  Girl 1 and I went running the other day and I asked her if she still believed in Santa.  Now, maybe this was self-serving, but it's over now so who cares?  She said (not her exact words because my memory is a sieve), "Well, you better tell me if there is a Santa or not before I have kids of my own because that would really stink if I relied on Santa and didn't buy any presents and then there was no Santa.  Right?  Because then my kids wouldn't get any presents and it would be my fault.  Do you know how bad that would be, mom?"  Good point.  I'm all about honesty, so I just told her the truth (no, not that there really is a Santa if you truly believe or whatever).  After I came clean with all the lies I've told over the years (I felt a little like I'd been to therapy) she said, "Well, I never really believed it.  I mean flying reindeers, mom?  Come on.  Who made all that stuff up anyway?  Seems like whoever it was they could have done better than that."  Is she my daughter?

3.  I can't keep a restroom clean during the holidays to save my life.  Every blessed day it's like World War III in there.  We have about 8000 trees in our backyard and every year around this time our backyard is like a horror movie about leaves.  I sweep a small leaf bag up in my house daily and daily I consider using a leaf blower inside instead of a broom.  The bathroom is the worst.  Not only is it normal bathroom yuck (remember six people regularly use the bathroom downstairs plus friends) but to make it worse, there are leaves and mulch all over the floor.  I have my Christmas scenter in there and my Christmas soap, but people it's just not working.  My mother would be appalled.

4.  I believe in thank you cards, but I just never write them.  I know, I know.  Again, my mother would be appalled.  She firmly believed in thank you cards.  And, in theory, so do I.  I am so thankful.  In my heart.  But, on paper - it's a whole other beast.  First you have to find the cards.  Then you have to find the time to write the cards.  Then you have to remember who gave you what (because I never remember to write that stuff down).  Then you have to mail or deliver the cards.  Both of which can be problematic.  Stamps.  Memory to remember to give the cards to the people.  Are you tired?  Because I am.  So, here's the deal.  Feel free to send me all kinds of Christmas presents.  Just know you are never going to get a thank you card.  But, I will be so thankful in my heart. 

5.  Every year for the past few years we have gotten a couple of gorgeous plates of Christmas cookies.  How do these people do it?  Here's how Christmas cookie making in my house usually goes.  I spend hours on Pinterest and the internets searching for fabulous cookie decorating tips and ideas.  I finally make the cookies and have all these grandiose ideas of how I am going to decorate them.  The kids sense I am going to try and do something fun by myself and they come from miles to get in on my alone time.  I end up making a lot more frosting because half of theirs ends up on the floor, in their mouths, in their sibilings' hair, and on the furniture.  They manage to eat, "decorate," destroy, or break almost all the cookies then they scatter like cockroaches when I tell them it's time to clean everything up.  I end up too tired to decorate the two cookies that remain so I just slap some black (because that's the only color that's left) frosting on them and call it a day.  Hubby comes in and says, "What are you doing?"  I say, "Oh, just decorating Christmas cookies."  He says, "Why did you do the trees black?"

Honesty people.  It's the best policy.  I'm going to stop blogging now and try and work on my pirated 2012 Christmas cards. 

Try to have a great week.

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Hello, Blog. Remember me?

It's December as evidenced by a serious lack of posts.

Here is the short list.

1.  I hate Elf on a Shelf.  WTF?  My hatred for this creepy guy is about equal to the amount of crap that I have to see about what he's done.  I will say about him what I say about dogs who $hit on the floor, "Hot dog."  I am sorry if that doesn't make sense to you.  (It's 5:30 a.m.)

2.  It's 5:30 a.m.  And here I am blogging.  When I got up early to work.  Damn it.  I hate it when I do this.

3.  I have not started any Christmas shopping because in a rage and fit of anger I told the kids Christmas was cancelled (I think that was before Halloween).  Can Christmas be cancelled?

4.  I will be attending three Christmas parties in three days this weekend.  This makes me delighted in that I haven't felt this popular since one time in high school when my name was called over the loud speaker and it was said that I had won something (that was later explained as a mistake).  It also makes me feel like Christmas parties make the list right there with:  work, laundry, cleaning, cooking, and other things I am obliged to do.

6.  I can't count.

7.  I am considering just buying more storage boxes for our Christmas decorations for my Christmas presents.  This is just wrong on so many levels.

8.  I miss you guys and Pinterest as much as I miss no grey hair.

9.  Life has been incredibly not funny lately.  This is actually a good thing because it means all my kids (and hubby) are being fairly well behaved.  I am pleased that we all might be learning how to get along and a little disappointed that I really have nothing to say.

10.  I have no desire to eat sweets.  At this exact moment.  (Did I say it's just after 5:30 a.m.?)  I will ride this train until it stops.  Which judging from past experience should be around 8:00 p.m. tomorrow night when I will want more beer and a sandwich.  And maybe some chocolate cake after that.

11.  I still suck at wrapping presents.  Seriously?  I am The Worst Wrapper Ever.  People actually sent me videos last year on Facebook to help me.  It didn't help.  When do kids reach the age where I can just go, "There.  Here's your Target bag with your presents in it."  I am really like Santa in that way.  Doesn't he just put everything in a big black bag?  Or do all the creepy elves do the wrapping?  If it's the creepy elves, maybe I need some of those guys?

12.  Y'know how we don't have cable?  Well every year I wait for all the Christmas shows on regular T.V.  Yeah, I know.  Like who does that anymore?  ME.  Well, I think I missed Rudolph.  Damn it.  That's my FAVORITE.  Now I have to wait until next year.  Again, this is wrong on so many levels.

P.S.  (Because at 5:30 a.m. I cannot be expected to remember things well.)  13.  Yesterday hubby and I went to see a lawyer (not a divorce lawyer).  In the span of about an hour (because we were paying her by the hour and she gets paid $380 an hour so you know I was doing some serious clock watching) she told us she used to be an RN and she had an MBA.  Yowza.  And now she's a lawyer who makes $380 an hour?  I left feeling like a serious under achiever.  Oh, and she asked us to sign a contract.  Is it weird that I was confused?  "Um, I'm going to have to have my lawyer review this.  Oh, wait..."

That's all I got.  My kids are now up.  

Have a great weekend, guys and I hope I am back in the land of the blogging soon. 

Monday, November 26, 2012

Lessons for a future Monster-in-Law

It's cyber Monday and I thought that called for a guest post. No, it's not hubby. Although, after all the encouragement he has received on Facebook (yes, two people is encouraging) and in the comments - hubby is seriously considering guest posting. (At least that *might* be what all the sighing is about?)


This comes from a lovely friend and reader who would like to remain anonymous. And as I do with all fabulous pieces of writing that I read and concur with, I say, "Yes. What she said." I heart you, Anonymous!

Dear future daughter-in-law:
 
I am writing to you, taking full advantage of “cyber” archival technology, taking fully for granted that my son will marry (a girl) and hopeful that mine and my husband's child rearing ability will prove him capable of choosing a lovely, nurturing, emotionally and mentally capable mate, to impart some of my expectations for our future interactions.

This being the future, I can utilize my own mother-in-law’s mannerisms and behavior with me towards better fostering a loving respectful relationship with you, hopefully my future grand kid(s) and keep you from encouraging my son to prematurely put me into some purgatory elder care facility.
So here is a list of some habits I will promise either to do or at best, to avoid:

  1. I will try to remain flexible at all costs, especially when we go out to dinner, and will not torment the wait staff with extraordinary and impractical requests, i.e. keeping a char-grilled piece of meat from tasting as if it were put on a flaming grill (“char-grilled” as it were).
  2. Although I do occasionally enjoy being the center of attention, I will not steal your child’s thunder by comparing his school project to a ridiculous “first prize” that was awarded for bringing a candle collection to school (a million years ago). Or talk about my underwear choices, past and present.
  3. I will always cede to your authority in your kitchen, will not second guess your capability to stock your pantry and will not bring my own recipe ingredients unless you ask me too.
  4. On the previous thought: I will not overstay my welcome, and do my best to stay in hotels with swimming pools when visiting, unless you directly invite me and your future father-in-law into your home which has large enough guest accommodations (that make it seem like we aren’t even there) that hopefully my son has provided you with.
  5. I will babysit, change diapers, and let you have quality time with my son at every given opportunity, or keep your kid(s) and mine entertained so you may escape our family dynamic as necessary.
  6. I promise not to obsess over minutia...for hours...and flag down innocent UPS drivers who are just trying to do their job on a holiday weekend when driving on your street (true story).
  7. Even though I do have a natural competitive nature, I will not whine when I play Sorry with your kid, and I will be a good sport when I’m losing.
  8. I will try not to tell you about all of my health issues unless you ask, and not bring up death at the corner of every conversation.
  9. Have I mentioned that I will not steal your thunder, or your kid’s, or anybody else’s for that matter? And I will not dominate the conversation or steer any abstract topics of conversation to revolve around some aspect of my life (ie: how driving directions can somehow turn into how an elderly elementary school teacher refused to remember me at a 50 year reunion 50 years later).
  10. If I want to know what to get my son for Christmas or his birthday, I will ask him because he probably knows what he wants or needs is hopefully mature enough to realize the “magical surprise” of the holidays or birthdays should be reserved for children.  And I won’t bring lame catalogs for your kid(s) to pick lame gifts from.

My dearest future daughter-in-law, may you be my son’s perfect mate, and may I always be on my best behavior.
 
Love, Your Future Mother-(not Monster)-in-Law
 
PS:  Should you prove to be a harpy in the guise of a dove, know that I have a war chest stocked with experience and have learned from the best.

Saturday, November 24, 2012

How To Letter to Hubby on His Death Bed

This really happened at around 2:00 a.m. the other night.  (Hubby is an insomniac and comes to bed around 2:00 a.m. when I have been sleeping peacefully for about four hours.  He is Not Quiet so I wake up.  Usually I go right back to sleep.  Except when he wants to discuss philosophy, the history of the world, politics, or science with me.)

Hubby:  I learned something that I had previously had wrong today.

Me:  (This space is intentionally blank.)

Hubby:  I had always thought that the moon waxes and wanes the opposite of what it does in relation to low and high tide.

Me: 

Hubby:  Y'know?  I always thought that when the moon waxes it was low tide and when the moon wanes it was high tide.  But, really it's just the opposite.

Me:

Hubby:  Babe?  Did you know that?  Were you confused, too?

There's more.  Much more.  But, I won't put it in the post because I think you get the idea.  In case you are slow, let me lay it out for you. 

1.  I did not even know that the moon waxed and waned in relation to low and high tide.  I was on the "A" honor roll for I think my entire life, but I have a short-to-no-term memory.  So, although hubby claims I should have learned all this in school (elementary school), I don't remember any of it. 

2.  I like to sleep.  A lot.  Next to breathing, sleeping is my favorite thing to do.  When I fill out any kind of application and they ask for hobbies, I put "sleeping."  It follows that I do not like my sleep interrupted by things I do not know and do not care about (at 2:00 a.m.). 

3.  I think expecting me to have an intelligent conversation (involving science, politics, history, or philosophy) at any time is slim to none.  At 2:00 a.m., it's like getting Girl 3 to eat spinach.  As I am sure hubby will tell you - I know pitifully little about these subjects.  He often says to me - in *kind of* a condescending tone, "And you have a master's degree?"  So, really.  I just can't do it or I might throw up.

Fast forward to the following day.  We were outside eating breakfast and hubby had made this roaring fire.

Me:  This is a great fire. 

Hubby:  Thanks.

Me:  Someday I need to learn to make a fire like this.  But, with like flint and sticks like you did.  Not kerosene and a match.  Because someday I might not have kerosene.  Or a match. 

Hubby:  Mm-hmm.  You probably should learn that.

Me:  In fact, don't die because then I won't be able to have any fires like this.  And, by the way, how did you get that camp lantern to work again?

Hubby:  Oh, it just needed blah, blah, blah (when he speaks to me about stuff like that it sounds just like Charlie Brown's mom.....if she were also Chinese).  You just need to blah, blah, blah and then you can insert the blah, blah, blah into the blah.  It's pretty easy.

Me:  Well, don't die because I won't be able to get the lantern to work either.  Y'know there's so many things I won't be able to do if you die.  I think I'll take a pen and paper to the hospital when you are dying and I'll make a How To list really quick.  And then you can tell me everything I need to know before you die.  In fact, that's a good idea.  I probably need to start writing down all the sh*t I can't do and don't know now so I can be prepared to take the list to the hospital.

Hubby:  You could just do it now.

Me:  What?  The list?

Hubby:  No.  You could just learn to do all the stuff now.  Like before I die.  So, you'd know how?  And you'd know stuff

Me:  Like now?  I don't have time to learn all that stuff now!  I barely have time to make the list!  What are you, crazy?

We continued for a little while longer and then (after a lot of sighing at me) hubby got up abruptly to get more coffee (I think he even said something like, "I'm gonna need more coffee."  Rude!).

But, these two conversations shocked me into thinking I really don't know enough!  Hubby has been covering my a$$ in the political, historical, scientific, philosophical realm for far too long!  And I love my idea about the How To list.  So, I've decided to start my list.  Here's what I have so far:

How To Letter (or just How Letter or just Can You Please Tell Me This Sh*t Letter) to Hubby on His Death Bed

1.  How do you make a fire?  And a wheel?

2.  How do you put those little white flammable thingies into the camp lantern to make light?  Those white thingies make the light, right?

3.  How does the moon change in relation to the tide (because now, frankly, I am intrigued)?

4.  How does photosynthesis work again (that ones mostly for when Girl 3 asks because I am pretty sure last time it came up all the other kids explained it to me)?

5.  Who shot Lincoln again?  And why?

6.  Why are we here?

7.  Where do we have all the other money?  Like the money I can never spend?  There is other money, rightRIGHT?

8.  Who was Genghis Khan again?

9.  What's a Libertarian exactly?

10.  How does the Yukon engine work and why do I need to know this?

I know it's not nearly as comprehensive as it needs to be, but I'll keep working on it and I figure when hubby's on his death bed ready to kick out it will give him a little something to hang on for.  Y'know? 

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

A Day in the Life's Top I Am Thankful For List of All Time (you're welcome)

So, it's one day before Thanksgiving.  Not my favorite holiday.  It's not that I'm not thankful.  I am.  Most of the time.  Sometimes.  Sometimes when I'm in a good mood.  So, thankfulness might not be my strong point.  But, I can roll my tongue!  That's something like a strong point, right?

Anyway, here we are.  Mere hours away from gorging in front of a football game and then reheating leftovers a few hours later because your eating schedule was all screwed up and something in your brain mistakes nausea for hunger.  Did I mention I abhor football?

I thought you might need another Thankful List since there aren't quite enough floating around on Facebook.  So, for the love of God, be thankful.

Before I came up with this year's list, I did a little research.  I know.  You're shocked, right?  Rest assured, I went to school.  I know how to do research.  I Googled "holiday eating tips" (because Lord knows I could use a few) and this little gem popped right up.  Does the Internet know me?

I admit, I didn't thoroughly read it, but the title intrigued me.  Of all time?  Really?  Were Jesus and the disciples worried about holiday weight gain, too?  Isn't that just a tad pretentious?

So, not to be a one-upper (but, I *kinda* am) here's my list:

A Day in the Life's Top I Am Thankful For List of All Time (you're welcome)

1.  I am thankful for the person that invented Spanx and I'd like to send him/her a piece of the chocolate pecan pie that I made this afternoon.

2.  I am thankful I had all the ingredients in the recipe for said chocolate pecan pie that I googled seconds before making it this afternoon, thereby avoiding another trip to the grocery store and possibly having to punch someone in the face (because that's probably not a very thankful thing to do).

3.  I am thankful that my toilet hasn't overflowed the last ten times Girl 3 has flushed about a half a roll of toilet paper down it.

4.  I am thankful I have a toilet.

5.  I am thankful that I didn't die for all the times I didn't send emails to nine people when the email said I would die if I didn't send it to nine people.   

6.  I am thankful that nearly everyone in my family loves football and I hate it because it will make it easier on my conscience to sit at the table by myself and eat a third piece of chocolate pecan pie.

7.  I am thankful that I only have to write a list of what I am thankful for once a year.

8.  I am thankful my kids' teachers still speak to me.

9.  I am thankful I don't homeschool.

10.  I am thankful for all the witty people that put adult references in kids' movies.  I kinda want to send them some pie, too.

I think next year I'll just make lots of pies and send them out to random people that I want to thank.  (That *might* be easier than making this list.)

Happy Thanksgiving, friends!  If you brave Black Friday, try not to get trampled.  Or shot.

Friday, November 16, 2012

Because I need a platform.

In the spirit of bipartisanship (bi - what?  whatever.) and because I need your vote, I thought I would bring you a short list (I have real work to do, damn it) of what I'm promising in the next four years.

1.  I will somehow embarrass myself athletically most probably this will occur while running in my neighborhood.  (I can only hope the high school students who congregate at the bus stop will not be involved.)

2.  I will leave approximately 15 loads of laundry in the washer overnight thereby leaving my family to go commando.

3.  I will cook approximately 4000 meals for six people - two of which will be eaten with no complaints from anyone.

4.  I will balance the budget numerous times only to find:  the washing machine is broken, hubby has 27 crumpled up, torn, and stained gas receipts in his console, my kids' feet are bigger (all of them), someone has a birthday (damn them), Christmas is weeks away, or someone requires urgent medical care...at night...on a weekend...that falls on a holiday...in a leap year.

5.  Instead of wearing the outfit I bought directly off the store model, I will mistakenly think I have a sense of fashion and make a slight deviation.  This will result in me making a fashion faux paux that will haunt me for months to come.

6.  I will attempt cake pops and fail miserably.  Then I will do it again.  And maybe again.

7.  I will procrastinate on the internets until I have to stay up all night finishing work, or something I promised the kids, or making cake pops, or wrapping presents, or re-washing clothes.  (That might happen today.)

8.  I will have multiple hair-brained ideas of how I can make more money and of what I can be when I grow up.  I will tell these to hubby with my excited voice.  He will just stare at me.

9.  The kids (and hubby and I) will take turns having bad days so that we will have 1460 days of someone having a melt-down.

10.  I will spend approximately two full years preparing myself for about 47 times I will be seen in a bathing suit.

I'm committed!

Have a great weekend.

Sunday, November 11, 2012

Happy Blogthday To Me.

Today is my blog birthday.  So, my blogthday?  Since I usually avoid birthdays like the plague, I've not ever celebrated my blogthday.  But, I'm in the mood for cake, so here it goes.

What I've learned in four years of blogging.

1.  I'm a pretty shallow writer as evidenced by my writing topics which have ranged from lice to cleaning house to Pinterest.  However, this does not make me a shallow individual.  After all, this year I did consider running for office (of what was never quite determined, but I did vet and choose a running mate).

2.  I love my kids with all my heart.  This does not compel me to write about their fabulous traits or glorify them on my blog.  Rather it makes my flaws as a mom and their flaws as kids stick out like back fat in a two piece.  I choose to write about the back fat.

3.  I am a comment whore and I love the internets.  Turns out - I love comments and interacting with people that I do not know nor have ever met.  So, I guess it's a good thing I'm happily married?

4.  I would rather read other people's blogs than clean my house or do laundry.  So, blogging has taken my procrastination to new (and exciting?) levels.

5.  As much as I abhor grammatical errors and as much as I scour my posts for them, I still find them in posts that were published days and weeks earlier.  Blech.  And, it still makes me cringe.  Like fingernails on a chalk board.

6.  For me, the urge to write directly coincides with the amount of work that is piled on my desk. 

7.  I'm not the only person out in the world who:  has crazy, whacked out kids, has a husband who (although I love dearly) occasionally drives me nuts, has a family that is kinda like the family in Little Miss Sunshine, and who likes to write about all the confusion and chaos.

8.  Since I don't really believe in therapy for myself, I *might* be addicted to self-diagnosing and then solving my problems (and then paying myself with Starbucks coffee).  Blogging helps this insane compulsion.

9.  I've changed a little on my blog in the past four years.  And, I guess it's because I've changed a little in real life.  I'm older now, so I care less what other people think and I've somehow managed to gain a teensy bit more confidence.  I still suck at dressing myself, buying bathing suits, parenting, and staying on a stupid diet.  But, what's changed is that I really don't mind admitting it anymore.

And, last but not least.  I may not have 9000 readers.  Or even 10 on a good day.  But, I still like them all.  And I still like blogging.  Just like the recently re-elected president, I'm probably in for another four years.

So, here's to blogging.  I'm eating cake.  If you feel like it - send me a present.  I don't mind belated ones.  I'll even save you some cake. 

Or maybe I won't. 

Friday, November 9, 2012

Exactly what she said.

I try not discuss politics or religion because they both piss me off.  But, I've been kinda bummed lately.  Facebook is my BFF and before the election it turned into a venomous hate-spewing creature of the evil mother-in-lawish type (not mine because I love my MIL).  So, for the weeks leading up to the election - I just chose to log on a little less and actually do something around the house (or work, God forbid).

After the election I was happy because I thought that crap making me want to vomit in my mouth would be gone.  But, no.  All I see now are a lot of sanctimonious, self-righteous shiz about Armageddon and the world ending.

It makes me kinda sad.  Sad because my BFF is not my BFF anymore and sad because people can be so shallow.

I can't write about any of this myself because I am not a great writer when it comes to things that actually matter (I can only write about poopy bottoms and dysfunctional families and then only to the 8th grade level). 

But, a great thing happened today when I logged into Facebook.  One of my most amazing friends' husband (and he's pretty amazing, too) had posted this on my wall. 

It's really well worth the read - whoever you voted for (and yes, I know I ended that with a preposition - apparently that kind of grammar comes after 8th grade).  I realize this blogger has like half the world for readers and I have like two readers, but I wanted to post the link anyway.  In case you need some perspective (or more likely - since all of my readers are AWESOME - you know someone who needs more perspective).

Because it's kinda like I felt when Steve Jobs died.  Perspective, people.  Really.  It's all about perspective and not losing your shiz.

Have a great weekend!  And hopefully I will have my BFF back soon and I can write a post of my own (course, it won't be nearly as good, but it will be mine).

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

The results are in. My kids are the wittiest.

Election conversation of the day (possibly the century):

Girl 1:  Mom, I kinda feel sorry for Gary Johnson.
Me:  Gary Johnson who?
Girl 1:  See?

Oh my gawd

In my defense, we were not even talking politics.  And, later I had to explain what libertarians believe.  Cheesus, I'm glad that's over.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

It's the White Vote!



As usual, Chris Rock speakin' to the people.  Now, get out and vote, people.

Thank you, E.D. for leading me to this, which I had not seen yet I nearly spit up my coffee.

Monday, November 5, 2012

LOVE your hairdresser. But, don't let her get you pregnant.

I started today (my second day of having one extra hour - whatever) with nine things on my to-do list (to-do before 3:00 p.m. when the kids get off the bus and my life spontaneously combusts).  It is roughly 2:00 p.m. and I have accomplished five of them.  Since I promised to blog whenever it was convenient this month I decided to fore go working out and doing laundry and whatever else is on the list - and fulfill my promise to you guys.  You're welcome.

As you might know, after a long and sordid relationship with my last hair dresser - we broke up.  Or, I broke up with him and he might not know it yet.  Whichever, I am currently seeing someone else and I love her.

In our short relationship, here's what she's taught me.

1.  Even though my hair is as straight as a board, I can still benefit from straightening my hair.  This logic is kinda like the logic...oh, wait.  I am trying not to be political on the day before the elections.  So, just know that this logic is not logical.

2.  When you want to attempt that "straight from the hairdresser look" you can do a couple of things after you've had it cut, colored, and styled.  You can not wash your hair for as long as you can stand it, or until your kids start to comment rudely.  Or, you can wash it and try in vain to attain the look you had right before you washed it.  Or, you can just confess to your hairdresser that you don't have the foggiest idea how to style your hair and can she show you.  She showed me.  And she talked slowly.  I can style it better now.

3.  All women can have silky smooth hair that is soft to the touch.  Even old women like me.

4.  Wax isn't just for the bikini line anymore.

5.  And lastly, hubby freaked out a little when he saw these in the cupboard.

He calmed down a little when I said, "RELAX.  They're for my HAIR!"

Monday, October 29, 2012

NoGoEvNevWritMoinNo, Ho.

I *kinda* felt bad for dumping sh*t on y'all in my last post.  Just kidding!  That's what y'all are here for.  Right? 

But, oddly, right after I dumped on y'all - things started looking up!  Relatively.

So, in the spirit of patriotism (whatever), I decided to write a short list about it in the hopes that if I had depressed you - I would cheer you up!  And also someone told me to be thankful for the good in my life instead of complaining all the time (whatever).

1.  We are two days away from the greatest day of the year.

2.  Saturday night I built a fire.  Like a Girl Scout.  Or, like an Indian.  (If the Indians had girl friends and used kerosene.)  Hubby usually makes the fire (because he's the man and that's what men do), but he was gone so I decided I could make fire.  Y'know like Emily Davidson?  Girl power? 

Well, turns out fire and the wheel really were difficult things to invent and are really difficult to replicate.  Damn cave men

I phoned hubby at his important conference to ask him how to make fire.  Here's the short version of our conversation.

Me:  Hi, hubby.  I was just wondering - how do you make a fire?

Hubby:  Um.  I'm kinda busy right now, can this wait?

Me:  Well, not really because since it's finally cold, I invited the whole neighborhood over like you usually do to roast marshmallows and drink and I think they are kinda expecting a fire.

Hubby:  *Sigh*  Well, first you need a beer can.

Me:  Wait.  Is this a joke?

Hubby:  *Sigh*  No.  It's not a joke. 

Me:  So, the first step in making a fire is:  Drink a beer?

Hubby:  Yes. 

Me:  SA-Weet.  I shoulda' been in charge of the fires all along!

Well, since I suck at following directions I had to just basically slam a beer, pour kerosene on some wood, and light a match to get a fire started.  And then for good measure (and so hubby wouldn't know all my secrets), I threw the old beer can into the fire.  Note to self:  Beer cans do not burn.  Ever.  And even when they are seriously charred you can still read Miller Lite on them.  (Hubby knows my secret.)

When I did finally get the fire started (with some help), here's what it looked like:

Please note how even the skeletons in my closet yard photo bomb me.
 
3.  Honey Boo Boo endorsed President Obama.  Although this happened quite a while ago - while I was still in the dumps, in the past few days it's given me hope that when I decide what I am running for, Honey Boo Boo will endorse me as well.

4.  I got my 50th follower to my blog.  I kinda feel like I want to send her a small gift.  But, since that's stalkerish I decided just to tell you guys here.  She doesn't have a blog that I know of, or I'd send you over.  But, clearly she is of above average intelligence, a fabulous mom and woman, and has great taste.  So, thank you, TNMom.  Here's a small gift especially for you to express my sincere appreciation.

They're not just for Valentines anymore.
5.  In a moment of sheer motherhood genius, I scheduled all four of my kids' six month dental cleanings on Halloween.  What kind of insane idiot does this?  Me.  Apparently.  Thanks to my lack of calendaring skills six month's worth of dental fees will be ravaged by one night of candy gorging.  Wait.  Is this my happy list?  Oh.  Sorry.  I still am wandering to the dark side every now and again.

6.  On November 1 you can join millions of other people worldwide and write a novel in 30 days.  This is affectionately (I guess) called NaNoWriMo by the throngs of people who participate.

No, I am not doing this.  Although I admire the strength and fortitude (whatever) of these people, I do not want to encourage them.  I really cannot think of anything more ludicrous than writing a novel in 30 of the days before what is the most frantic, time-consuming, depressing season of the year when most everyone is gaining weight.  And, I cannot think of a crazier acronym.  (Except for maybe SWOT mom.)

Instead I've decided to commit myself to writing on my blog every day of November.  Except when I don't feel like it, or I am depressed, or I have other things that are more important that need doing, or my four year old needs her butt wiped. 

So, basically - I commit to bringing you what I've always brought you - but in NOVEMBER!  So, yay me!  (I feel less depressed already!)  And because I love to rival ridiculous acronyms, I am calling my writing challenge for myself:  NoGoEvNevWriMoinNo, Ho.
Not Going to Ever, Never Write More in November, Hoes!

That's my Happy List, friends.  Stay sane!  

Saturday, October 27, 2012

it's a fine line between sanity and donuts and beer for breakfast.

Caution:  Ranty pity-party post ahead.  (It's not solving world peace or international hunger.)

Here are a few sucky things that have made my life not-funny lately .  Instead of continuing to avoid my blog like the plague, I have decided to embrace the suckiness and write about it. 

1.  I have a four year old who talks incessantly.  That is:  without ceasingEver.  Except when she is asleep.  It has made focusing (on anything) really difficult for me these past few weeks.  Before you leave me a self righteous comment telling me how I should savor these moments and that they don't last long, rest assured - I do.  I am just wanting three seconds of quiet once every 24 hours so that I can fu*king focus on the tasks ahead.   That's all.   Don't judge.  (It is my blog.)

Indeed, sometimes I feel guilty for telling her, "Can you please stop talking for three seconds?  Mommy just needs to do this." 

My guilt lasts approximately as long as it takes her to start talking again.  So, usually about the three seconds I asked for.

So that you can experience the full extent of idiocracy that's happening over here, I give you a few of her nonsensical babbles from the past few days. 

a.  (This one happened in the middle of the night, so basically I was a captive audience.)  MOMMY I HAD A NIGHTMARE ABOUT MY LITTLE PONIES.  Except they weren't LITTLE.  They were gigantic and SCARY.  Even Princess Celestia.  She was a scary, gigantic, not little pony.  Can I sleep with you now?

b.  Mom, how old are princesses?  I think about four or eighty?  Do you think that's how old they are?  Except for Brave.  I think she's 20.  But, she wasn't married was she?  Mom, was Brave married?  When I'm 20 I am going to be married.

c.  Mom, I am going to live with you forever.  Okay?  And then I'm going to have four kids.  Two boys and two girls.  And then I am going to have a boyfriend.  And then I am going to have a dog.  And maybe one cat.  But, cats don't like kids, right?  Or do they?  So, maybe I guess I'm not going to have kids.

d.  I drew a picture of Snow White.  But, I didn't know how to make her dress, so I just made her smile look like Snow White's. 

e.  Sometimes she sings her babble.  At the top of her lungs.  If you're shiny and you know it, CLAP YOUR HANDS!  If you're shiny and you know it, CLAP YOUR HANDS!  If you're shiny and you know it........................THEN YOUR FACE WILL SURELY SHOW IT!  If you're shiny and you know it, clap your hands!

f.  She is currently obsessed with all the princesses.  Mom, Snow White has two smiles, right?  One like this (she does a maniac smile)?  And then one like this (she does another slightly more maniac smile)?

g.  Mom, when is the mummy going to go to bed?  (We have a mummy in our living room right now.  Since he can't be left out in the elements, after our epic Halloween party we put him in the kitchen.  But hubby kept getting startled by him and threatened to knock his teeth out.  So, for mummy's sake - I had hubby move him to the living room so that he's looking out the window.)

Do you kinda see how this *was* funny about the first three years and that now it's just making me grow weary (and old)? 

2.  I am not Mother of the Year.  I have known this since my oldest was about a week old.  I will be the first to admit my parenting faults.  Short list:

a.  I am inconsistent to the point of being consistent in my inconsistency.
b.  I am impatient.
c.  I scream.  And sometimes I throw fits.
d.  I am sarcastic.  Sometimes caustically.

So, it should be no surprise that my kids are screwed up.  Usually, though, it's no more so than I myself am screwed up (so, not too bad).  Until this school year.  It's like my family has some sort of super bug which affects their emotions so that all they can do is throw raging fits of lunacy.  And apparently there is no known cure for this super bug.  Believe me I've searched and tried everything known to man.  I have even sunk so low as to read A Parenting Book.  Or two.  Blech.  They didn't help much.  Surprise!

Seriously.  The constant fits by various family members (myself included) have made me weary.  And old.

Don't worry.  This is not a "call for help."  I've already done that.  One of us, and possibly all of us, is going into therapy/counseling/head shrinking/boot camp with a professional as soon as I can iron out the details (which I will be able to do once the four year old gives me three seconds of silence). 

Did I mention I was overtly sarcastic?  You will undoubtedly read more about this in the posts to come.  Or you won't because we will all be hauled away to the loony farm.  In that case, I'll try to sneak in my laptop to keep you up-to-date.

3.  I like to fool around mindlessly on Facebook leaving (what I think) are witty and self-deprecating comments and posts all over and laughing incessantly at my own (hilarious) jokes.  Since I don't have cable, Facebook is kind of like TLC for me.  The problem is Facebook has turned into a sickeningly vicious political platform that makes me want to vomit inside my mouth (and outside of it) every time I login.  The impact this has had on my attitude and spare time (read:  time I spend procrastinating) is pathetic and painful at the same time.  Pathetic because I am ready to lose it over the next person who invites me to "friend" Mittens and painful because I feel like I have lost my BFF (which - like a vicious circle - is so pathetic).  It has all made me weary and old and I am desperate for this political season to be over so that I can go back to having some good, old fashioned, harmless fun with my old BFF, Facebook.  Oh, and so I can get through one fu*king meal without the phone ringing.  Thank you, Robocallers.

4.  I am going through some sort of mid-life crisis (brought about - or at least sped up - by numbers 1-3) which has caused me to become painfully aware of the fact that I am 39+ years old and I still don't know what the hell I am going to do when I grow up.  My fear of growing old alone is becoming more and more vivid.  So much so that the other day I found myself saying to someone, "Naw.  I really don't want to live much past 70."  Then later I thought, "JESUS, Mary and Joseph???  Did I say 70???  That's like 20 years away!  What the heck am I doing sitting around here???"

5.  After successfully losing a lot of "baby fat" I had hanging around, really toning up, and changing a lot of my disgustingly immature eating habits, the first day of slightly cooler weather came and I find myself eating like I am going into hibernation and avoiding exercise in order to save my strength for spring.  Sadly, my daily mantra has become, "I am not a bear."

I warned you it was not pretty.  I hope my next post will be about how I have discovered the cure for raging lunatic fits and that I am back to healthy living.  But, just typing that right now makes me want to eat a donut and wash it down with a beer.  Have a great weekend.  I am going to try and retain my personal sanity and keep my family out of the sanatorium. 
He's the guy in my living room.  I call him Fred.  I *kinda* wanna feed him a sandwich.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

"Mrs. DayintheLife, you're no Jack Kennedy."

In case you missed my first political analysis, and in the spirit of more patriotism *gag*, I bring you:

Other Ways In Which My Life Parallels The Lives of Those Running for Political Office

1.  Follow-ups suck.

2.  The nature of questions that might come from my constituents and their appointed debate moderators are secret and often sneak up on me like stealth bombers.

3.  I, too, need to be reminded occasionally that we are not living in the age of horses and bayonets.

4.  I often start my debate responses like this, "You need to do five things.  1.  Take your hands off your sister's neck.  2.  Listen to momma.  3.  blah, blah, blah."  And, similar to the campaigners, by "3" no one is listening to me anymore anyway.

5.  Often when I start talking, my audiences' eyes glaze over and their mouths gape open.

6.  I spend a lot of my time refuting claims from others.

7.  Sometimes I sweat like a heroin addict.  (Although, usually it's from exercising, not debating.)

8.  Frequently my only strategy is to accuse the other side of outright lying and I frequently demand fact checks.

9.  I, pretty much, think everything I say is the gospel truth and that my record reflects virtue, the highest of ethics, and a high-held commitment to my constituents.  And, I pretty much have no idea what that really means.

10.  I don't care if you live in a mansion or in the ghetto as long as the yard sign in your yard has my name (and preferably my photo) on it.

11.  I constantly have to remind the faction that stands against me that attacking me is not an agenda.

12.  I think at some point I, too, have spoken these words, "We can't kill our way out of this mess."

My two minutes is up and I approve this message.  #teamDayintheLife

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Diary of a Submissive

It's time for another book review.  And, this one is R-rated (and a bit rambly if you've not read the book) so consider yourself warned.

Diary of a Submissive by Sophie Morgan



I am being compensated by BlogHer to review this book, but the thoughts expressed in this post are entirely my own.

Let me get this over with and say:  I did not care for this book at all.  I was interested in reviewing it because I never managed to get on the 50 Shades of Grey bandwagon and when I read that Diary was the true 50 Shades of Grey as happened to real life submissive, Sophie Morgan, I thought, "Hmm.  Here's a way for me to get in the know about sexual domination (Why?  I don't know.  Curiosity, I guess.) and hopefully read some better writing (since I'd heard from several people that the writing in 50 Shades was at times unbearable) while doing it (since Sophie Morgan is purportedly a journalist)!"

Well, sadly for me - it read like porn.  And, frankly, not the kind of porn in which I might be remotely interested.

It's the "true story" of Sophie Morgan and her descent into the life style of a sexually submissive woman.  The book is about 300 pages long and about 275 pages are dedicated to graphic detailing of her submissive experiences.  And when I say graphic - be ready to wince and possibly have to skip over parts if you are at all sensitive to reading about pain. 

I truly wish more of the book would have been devoted to her exploring the why of the situation because that's what I find fascinating and that's what I thought the book was going to delve into.  She really doesn't delve into that much at all - except to occasionally question her limits - but not really the sanity of her actions. 

The book did get me thinking and I am curious to know if and what it got others thinking about.  Here's what I was thinking about (and by no means are these perfectly sane thoughts): 

What do therapists say about submission?  What do therapists say about a man who can inflict such torture on a woman purportedly for both of their pleasure?  If a submissive can be so humiliated, debased, physically hurt, and gain sexual pleasure from that - does a submissive gain sexual pleasure from any form of pain?  What initiates a connection between the two (since her relationships were otherwise rather shallow)?  Are there people who actually do this stuff (don't answer that - I really don't want to know)???  And my frequent thought (because I have a sick, sick mind - but not sick like this chickie) - Jesus, if a submissive was ever captured and held in a prisoner war camp - they would never be able to torture her to talk.  She'd take her secrets to the grave. 

I also kept thinking:  This woman is gonna love the pain of natural childbirth.  And:  How is this different from rape?  (I suspect she would say because she was in control the whole time. My response to that is - how does she know she was in control if it never stopped and she never used her "safe word"?  What would women who have truly been sexually tortured think of this book?

While I was reading this book 50 Shades of Cain aired on Law & Order SVU.  Interestingly enough in this episode (often the episodes parallel "real life" drama) the author of a "true sexual submissive story" gets rapes and no one believes her.  Then on the show it's revealed that the book is not even true or her own work.  That got me thinking!

So, for me, this book created more questions for me than it answered.  It also left me feeling somewhat depressed, a whole lot disturbed, (like when I watched that old movie about the sex trade - can't remember the name of it and don't want to Google it ;o) and a lot like I wanted to take a bath and wash off all the nastiness.  As far as it being mommy porn (like 50 Shades was sold as) - I guess if nipple clamps and other more graphic forms of torture make you hot - yeah.  For me, no thank you.  I gave birth to four kids (three of them naturally) and that's about all the pain my hoo-ha can take for one lifetime.

If you'd like to join the discussion (which is bound to get interesting) on BlogHer here is the link:  http://www.blogher.com/bookclub/where-do-you-find-confidence.  Hope to "see" you there!

 Thanks for the read and I'll be back with a more humorous post soon!

Saturday, October 13, 2012

I never win stuff, but when I do it's usually of cosmic importance.

So, I'm blogging quickly this morning to tell you basically that - I'm a winner!  And you can, too!  Not really.  You can't be a winner because I already won!  But, I liked the way that worked.

Anyway!  I won something y'all!  And it's wacky and I think all the planets aligned to make me win (or there was corruption and bribery involved - either way it's epic).

I have been meaning to blog about these delish spinach muffins I started making about a month ago.  I got them off of Pinterest and I was delighted when they tasted pretty good and got Girl 3 to eat spinach. 

My kids *might* be spawn of Popeye because they are some spinach lovin' kids.  Weird, right?  Except for Girl 3 She hates spinach and if you try to put it on her tongue she gags like you are water boarding her. 

Now, that Girl 3 should be the exception should come as no surprise if you are a regular reader.  She's typically the exception (as in:  None of my kids have been hospitalized, except Girl 3.  None of my kids have gone to the principal's office for behavior, except Girl 3.  None of my kids have ever participated in clocking someone on the head with a wooden ironexcept Girl 3, etc., etc.). 

Not only was Girl 3 eating spinach for the first time ever, these muffins were healthy enough for hubby and me to eat without having to starve ourselves for the rest of the day! 

So, since these spinach muffins were a hit, I figured this Weelicious gal was on to something.  So, I decided to give this blog a second look and I found another recipe that we all love and can all eat!  I had been using an ancient pumpkin apple muffin recipe for years (I think I got it from Moses), and although delicious and popular, it's loaded with sugar and gooiness.  The kids love those muffins, but hubby and I really can't eat them without having to then run a marathon.  So, baking them is a huge risk.  The Weelicious pumpkin apple muffins are tasty and fairly healthy!

Then, the stars aligned.

I found out gradually that this Weelicious lady is someone really famous.  Her blog has like eight million readers and she's been on TV a gazillion times touting her recipes and such.  Apparently I was the only person on earth who hadn't heard of her.  I hate to not know about food bandwagons, so I started reading this Weelicious lady's blog a lot.  And I got some other good stuff.  THEN, sweet Heidi over at Girl to Mom had a giveaway. 

Guess what the giveaway was?

 

You guessed it!  My copy came in the mail yesterday.  Thank you, Girl to Mom.

I will no doubt be trying some new stuff. 

That's it for now, friends.  I have to go.  This week has been a small taste of Hell.  I have a ton of work (which is all good) and of course only when I have a ton of work do ridiculous things happen to me that require blogging.  I dropped my drawers while running (accidentally), I have two new yard signs for my campaign, my fabulous hair dresser pulled me back into my twenties, my credit card and one of my Halloween pumpkins were stolen (only one was used for fraud), and my pricey pre-cancerous eyeball caused me to have to pay for an otherwise insurance covered eye exam.  I think all of that happened in one week.

Stay tuned, friends.  You are bound to have a laugh soon at my expense.  And, please, have a delightfully witchy weekend.

Friday, October 5, 2012

If you can read this, you're too close.

So, there's nothing like a trip to the ophthalmologist that will make you feel 114 years old and make you feel like you are in poor health and might die.  Soon.

As many of you know I got a clean bill of health from my M.D. last week when I went for a physical for the first time in about 20 years (so, yes, my last physical was when I was 10).  She basically said that I should be good to go for the next 20 years.  Well, she didn't actually say that, but I figure since I'd taken charge of my own health for 20 years and stayed fairly healthy, I can probably manage it for another 20 years.  And, I should have probably been a doctor, and made a lot of money, and not had any time to write a blog about it because I would be too busy saving people's lives and writing medical books.  (She didn't say that, but I did.) 

Without boring you with the intimate (and quite disgusting) details, I will tell you briefly that I am suffering (relatively, because we all know suffering is relative) from vertigo (also called dizziness - which I have suffered from my whole life). 

Now, (in my vast medical experience) there are a few reasons one can experience vertigo:  you have an excessive amount of alcohol in your system, you have a tumor in your brain and have about two weeks left to live (and if that's currently happening to anyone reading this, I'm sorry, for kinda making a joke about it), you are anemic (which, of course, in the blood draw in which I had to postpone my coffee IV, anemia was not screened), you are just plain dizzy and there is no cure, (in which case the doctor just says, Sorry?  I guess?) OR, your body is special, in a way that will not impress men, and your ears produce an excessive amount of ear wax which completely blocks your ear drum (making hearing nearly impossible) and causes vertigo.......wait.  Did I say I wasn't going to bore you with intimate and disgusting details?  Okay, sorry.  So, I had my eardrum scraped (yes, it was more painful than natural child birth and I *might* have screamed it was all hubby's fault and that I wanted an epidural) and yes the vertigo has subsided somewhat. 

But because not every cloud has a silver lining, yesterday I found out I might die, so basically we are back to square one.

Okay, so fast forward to yesterday at the eye doctor. 

1.  I hate the eye doctor, but I go once a year because I have a fear of going blind.  (Which turns out might actually be one of my valid fears.)  And I also am vain and have to have a current contact prescription.
2.  I watch WAY too much SVU and am convinced that the doctor is going to be a serial rapist and that a dark room is the perfect context for this to occur.  (I realize this is completely sick, but I have had these conversations in my head.  More than once.)
3.  I abhor the following:  Is 1 better or 2?  3 or 4?  5 or 6?  Okay, how about now?  Is it A or B?  B or C?  Seriously?  I find myself nervous and sweating during this part of the exam (and it's not because I might be raped).  It's just like the SAT all over again.  I know.  Insane.
4.  I don't really trust eye doctors, and that's really difficult to reconcile with my fear of going blind and my vanity.
5.  I spend all my time (when I am supposed to be picking A or B) thinking What's my nearest weapon in case he starts $hit? and How much did all this equipment cost?
6.  If it's been awhile since you've been to the eye doctor - times have changed.  It's mostly all flat computer screens and remote controls.

Yesterday the doctor looked to be about 87 and was quite frail, so I wasn't really worried about being raped.  I did, however, fail the double vision test and I also spent an excessive amount of time thinking about the cost of all that equipment (the letters are now on a flat computer screen which is mounted to the wall and I would be willing to trade it for my 1970's console TV even if all it played was letters).

Just like I imagine the minutes right before the doctor sees cancer growing in your brain, the doc paused during my double vision test and said slowly, "How about now?  Do the lines come together now?"

I think he wanted me to say yes, but truthfully the lines were still not together, so naturally I was nervous and sweating and I said, "Well, that made them ooch together a teensy bit, but no, they're still not together."

So, then he flipped the lights on and said, "Are you familiar with Bell's Palsy?"

Wow.  That's a conversation starter, eh?  How do you go from lines on the stupid flat screen to Bell's Palsy?  I thought, "Clearly he's senile.  I am not paying for this exam."

But, just to amuse him I said yes and he proceeded to run down a list of (I suppose) symptoms of early onset Bell's Palsy and did I have any of them.  While he was doing this my mind wandered (shocker, I know) to a gal I knew in college who had Bell's Palsy.  I made a mental note to look her up on Facebook.  I also was a tad offended when he said that most people's faces were symmetrical and mine clearly wasn't.  Hey, now!  I thought this was the eye doctor, not Project Runway.  Then my mind wandered to a time when hubby and I and some good friends were all sitting around partaking and the subject of facial symmetry came up.  My face was voted the least symmetrical and it was concluded that I would never be a model because of this.  Again, shocker.  I probably did not need 12 beers to figure that out.

So, one of the apparent symptoms of Bell's Palsy is short term memory loss.  He asked me (seriously) if I had experienced it.  HELLO?  This made me sit up straight in my chair.

I paused when he asked this because my mind was just careening out of control.  Here is the path it was going on:

1.  I HAVE BELL'S PALSY?  JESUS H. CHRIST.  HOW MUCH TIME DO I HAVE???
2.  What have I forgotten today?  Short list:  The appointment, the directions, my phone, dinner.
3.  I thought I was here for a freaking EYE EXAM.  Turns out I am getting a death sentence.

So, after I thought all that I calmly (and smartly) said (hoping he hadn't noticed the pause before responding), "No, not really.  I remember most things.  I guess.  Most important things.  Well, some important things.  Y'know sometimes I forget things.  Just things mostly that don't matter.  Much.  Wait.  Who are you?  Why are we here?"

He ordered a second double vision screening for me.

I passed the second one.  Kinda.  Mostly.

Turns out I have a titch of double vision (don't worry, I only see one of you right now - and by the way, GET DRESSED ALREADY), but I have a pre-melanoma on my EYEBALL.

Seriously?  Did you know you could have a pre-melanoma on your eyeball?  Do you really even know anyone who's ever had this?  Did they get cancer in their EYE and are they dead?  (Sorry.  Kinda.)

So, let's recap.  These past two weeks I've:

1.  Done an insightful political analysis in which I vetted (kinda) and selected a running mate who is currently designing my yard signs (maybe).
2.  Gotten a clean bill of health from my M.D. aside from my (improving) vertigo which may or may not kill me.
3.  I have been told I look or seem like I have Bell's Palsy because my face is not symmetrical and I don't remember who I am.  (To which I scoff and say, "Duh.  At least I'm running for office.  Of something.  On a platform of beer and forgetfulness.  Was that my platform?")
4.  I have made my home excessively ghoulish and gaudy for the upcoming election (and Halloween) and now I am not even the least bit apologetic to my neighbors because I might die.


Scarier than Halloween and the upcoming election.
Have a great weekend!  I'll try to remember to do the same while avoiding an early death and managing to squeeze a few more monsters in the front yard.

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

I'm Mrs. DayintheLife and I approve this message.

In the spirit of patriotism (and really just because if one more person calls me at dinner time to persuade me to vote a certain way - I might poke eyes out with sharp sticks)...I bring you:

Ways in which I am similar to those currently running for office.

1.  I frequently need to be fact-checked.
2.  I *might* have taken money from the kids' college fund to pay for more urgent needs (like food).
3.  I have four small people to govern, but often cater to only a certain percentage of them.
4.  I often travel all day just to make a stump speech trying to convince the undecideds that I am the candidate they want to trust, believe, and rally around.
5.  I seem to govern two major factions.  One of these factions agrees with me and supports me most of the time.  The other faction directly opposes me in nearly every decision I make.
6.  I've been accused (by those who oppose me) of being cold and insensitive.
7.  I tend to be long-winded when arguing a point and could use a little debate practice.
8.  My work environment can be hostile and I rarely make a decision that everyone can support.
9.  When I am talking about allowances, money I owe the kids, etc., etc., and they question my fuzzy numbers, I often claim, "GUYS!  It would take me too long to go through all the math." 
10.  Often times when people ask me a question I talk, and talk, and talk, and talk and then my time is up and I did not come close to answering their question.

Jim Lehrer:  Mrs. DayintheLife, your two minutes are up.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

What the what?

I took all the kids to get flu shots.  On a Monday.  In the rain.  (Not really.  It wasn't raining, but it felt like it should have been.)

So, all four kids were all done getting shots and we were exiting the building.  Although we love our pediatrician, she runs her practice from a seedy strip mall.  Her offices are lovely on the inside, but here are the other (often closed, ever changing) businesses located in the same strip mall that could be there on any given day in any combination:

1.  A laundry mat (which is most likely a front).
2.  A gaming shop (which is most likely a front and into which I have only ever seen shady looking adult men go).
3.  A place where you can presumably eat fruit called "Fruity Coma" which is like some ridiculous combination of Spanish and English which literally means fruity eat?  I don't understand it and I don't ever want to understand it.
4.  A barbacoa shop.  (Barbacoa - in case you are not from Mexico or South Texas - is the meat from the cheek of the cow.  It is sinfully delicious and just a little gross.)  It is never open.  The sign on the front says something like, "Closed on Monday.  Closed on Tuesday.  Closed on Wednesday.  Closed on Thursday.  Closed on Friday.  Open on Saturday if and when the barbacoa is ready.  Closed when sold out.  Open on Sunday until we run out."  I am exhausted every time I read this sign, and I never want to go there.
5.  A pharmacy (which I thought was selling legitimate drugs).
6.  Some sort of tobacco store (which I also thought was legitimate and which was apparently closed this particular day).

As we were exiting the office, Girl 1 said, "Hmm.  There used to be a pharmacy there."  I heard her, and in my head I said, "Baby, there used to be a lot of things here."

As we were driving home Girl 1 said again, "Mom?  You know that pharmacy that used to be next to Dr. L's office?"

I said, "Hmhmm."

"Well, it looked like it was closed down.  That's kinda good because it never really looked like a real pharmacy in the first place.  You know the kind where you get drugs?"

I said, "Uh-huh.  Exactly." In my head I said, "Baby, you could probably get drugs a lot of places at that strip mall."

Boy child then said, "Wait.  What?  I don't think it did either, Girl 1.  It looked like some kind of weird place and there were always weird signs on the door."

Girl 1, "Yeah.  I know.  Like for smoking and stuff?  Right?"

That made me pay attention and so then I said, "Wait.  What?  Are you guys talking about that pharmacy next to Dr. L's?  The one that had the Dora and Mickey Mouse signs on it?  And some medicare signs???"

Girl 1, "No.  That place looked like it was still open.  We're talking about the other place.  The other pharmacy."

I said, "What?  I'm confused."

Boy child, "Mom!  We're talking about the other pharmacy in that strip mall.  Y'know the one where they sell real drugs."

I said (weakly), "Real drugs?  What are you talking about?"

Boy child, "Yeah.  Y'know real drugs.  Like cigarettes, and beer, and tobacco."

Friday, September 21, 2012

If you were a nail clipper would you be with one sock?

Random list #257.

Things I am always either buying or ranting about because they disappear like we live in an Amityville Horror house.

1.  Socks.  Duh.  Thank you, Captain Obvious.
2.  Nail clippers.  Jesus Christ (and I am seriously asking Him), where do they flippin' go?
3.  Matches.  Why?  Will our house spontaneously combust one day due to all the lost match boxes lighting themselves?
4.  Igniters (or whatever they are called).  We buy literally millions of these because we always lose the large match boxes we buy.  Yes, we have a gas stove and yes, we have a lot of fires in our fire pit out back.
5.  Girls' hair brushes.  Now, with three girls I can sorta understand this, but really?
6.  Safety pins.  Now, no offense, but I can say about safety pins what I say about cops - Where are they when you need them?
7.  Scotch tape.  I do tape a lot of crap, but is it necessary to have this on the list weekly?
8.  Mechanical pencils.  I understand we do have four small people who do a lot of school work but it seems I should buy stock in Bic.
9.  Game pieces.  Sometimes I feel a little like a crazy person when I obsessively count game pieces before putting the game back in the box.  Only to open the box the very next time to find missing game pieces.  Yes, this will eventually drive a person insane and should be used in warfare as a form of torture.  My kids largely ignore the rants I have about missing game pieces.
10.  Hair ties.  Again, I know I have three girls, but where do the hair ties go?  When I die and the house is sold will the new people find this huge pile of hair ties somewhere that I have missed?
11.  Flashlights.  Everytime the power goes out we buy like 15 the next day.  They are gone by the time the power goes out again.  Are the flashlight makers and power controllers in bed together?  Because it *kinda* seems that way.

If for no other reason then I don't know where this sh*t goes, if you find any of the stuff listed above please consider sending it back to me.  Thanks.
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