Saturday, December 28, 2013

Further evidence

Santa brought Girl 2 an American Girl Doll movie for Christmas.  Santa was tired and shopping black Friday sales, so apparently he didn't realize that the movie was about bullying.  She is not struggling with bullying and doesn't really need this message, but (I guess) Santa was thinking ahead and wanted her to know how to deal with bullying should the need ever arise?  (Thanks, Santa.)

So, me and the girls were sitting around watching the movie and hubby passed by. 

He watched for about five minutes and witnessed about five incidences of fairly fierce mean girl bullying of the main character, Chrissa.

Then, he mumbled, "If that woulda been me, this woulda been a short movie."

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Turns out Lilyhammer is the father.

Remember when I wrote Prudie about my then three year old going all Lilyhammer on us?  Well, she still does a lot of vaguely crime kingpinish stuff.  And, if I had any doubt before, I can now definitively answer the question I've asked myself, "WHERE DID SHE COME FROM?"

We're sitting around at breakfast and Boy Child says, "Yesterday at school a kid went to juvie for throwing a rock at a car."

Girl 1:  Was it a moving car or just a parked car?

(It's possibly she will go into law?)

Boy Child:  I dunno!  Does it matter?  Sheesh, Girl 1.  Throwing a rock at a car is NOT OKAY!  It doesn't matter if it's parked or moving!

(His behavior may not always exhibit his knowledge, but when it comes to what's right and wrong, that kid knows his stuff.)

Me:  Yeah.  It's really not a good idea.  Ask your dad.  He knows a thing of two about throwing rocks at cars.

I still don't know why I said that.  And, as I uttered the words, I should have known it might end questionably.

After all four kids looked expectantly at hubby like he was Santa giving out candy, he really had no choice but to start telling them a story.

The story goes like this:

Back when hubby was a tween, he and some "friends" were walking along a fairly desolate road and saw an old car a good way away.  They decided to wager on who might be able to hit the car with a rock.  So, the other boys started throwing rocks and were unable to hit the car.  Hubby picked up a rock, threw it, and they all heard a loud cracking sound.  Then they heard someone come out of a nearby house yelling.  They ran away.  A few days later some cops came to hubby's school and took him to juvie.  His "friends" had ratted him out, and they had told the cops that it was just hubby that was throwing rocks.

Hubby stopped talking and the kids were just kind of staring at us waiting for (I guess) a moral to the story.

So, I said, "THAT is why we pick our friends wisely....................Wait........................What I mean is - true friends don't rat out their friends.........................Wait.  That's not what I meant.  What I mean is - you need to decide what's right and wrong for yourself.  Don't let your friends decide for you.  Yeah.  That's what I meant........................You knew throwing rocks at cars was wrong, right babe?"


"RIGHT, babe???"

Hubby:  Of course.  Yes.  I knew throwing rocks was wrong and I shouldn't have done it.  And my so-called friends shouldn't have lied either.  But that's okay.

Looking back, at that point I should have loudly asked, "WHO'S READY FOR DESSERT?"

But, hindsight is 20/20.

Kids:  What do you mean it's okay?  What happened after that?  Did you go to jail?  Did you have to pay a fine?  Did the other kids go to jail for lying? 

(It's clear their knowledge of the criminal justice system is severely limited.)

Hubby:  Well, after that happened my mom had to go to court and pay a fine.  Because I shouldn't have messed up that guy's car.  Even though it was a beat up old car, the guy said it was an "antique."  The cops didn't do anything to the other kids.  I didn't tell anyone they were lying. 

Kids:  Well, that doesn't quite seem fair that they were throwing rocks too.  But they lied and so they didn't get in any trouble?

Hubby:  Yeah, well that's okay.  Later they met with some unfortunate incidents.

Kids:  Oh no!  What do you mean?

Hubby:  Oh, one of them repeatedly banged his face on some rocks and one of them fell down some stairs.  And I think someone beat one of them up.

A short silence followed in which the kids were deep in thought.  And then finally:

Boy Child:  Hmm.  So, I guess that's what they call karma?

Me:  Yup!  That's exactly what they call karma!  Does anyone want dessert??!!

Thursday, December 12, 2013

I think I've been nice.

Dear Santa,

(It's a short list.)

1.  Someone to come and take down all the Christmas paraphernalia, pack it up neatly, label it, and put it back in the attic so that next year we can avoid - near attic break through, miles of lights jumbled together, Christmas ornaments that never quite get put away and end up "by the phone" all year, and Boy Child using the dog's stocking because his is lost. 

If said "someone" looks like this, I will not complain.

Snap, Ms. DayintheLife!  Let's get your decorations down and organized!
2.  Downtown Abbey all seasons on Netflix.  Come on!  YOU ARE SANTA.  Or, you can buy it for me, but I already priced it at Target and it'd be cheaper to put it on Netflix.  And I bet it's on a few more people's lists?  Strategy, Santa!  Strategy!

3.  Season Four of The Killing.  Or, pay for rehab for me.  I trust you, Santa.  I know you will pick the one that is better for me.  But, remember, Old Man - Work Smart!  Rehab these days is expensive.

4.  My vision from my 20's back.  (My boobs are not on this list because they were on my list last year and I didn't get them.  So, I've decided not to be as greedy!  I am not too old to learn from my mistakes!)

5.  And, while we're talking eyes, could you make those nasty under eye circles go.  away?  Annoying!  I know you like people who help themselves (that's you, right?), so I'll tell you - I'm quite addicted to eye creams and am not above trying Preparation H.  I'll try that just as soon as I can get to the store without the five year old.  (Mom, What's a tampon?)

6.  My memory.  I can't remember if that made the list last year?

7.  Summer weather, but not with drought because I want to be good to the earth.  (See?  I've learned from my selfishness!)

8.  Don't worry, I'm almost done!  Remember Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory, Santa?  Well, there was this gum you could chew and it was like a whole dinner?  And then that obnoxious girl (I can't remember her name right now - see #6) ate some and ruined it for everyone?  Well, along the same lines as the gum that tastes like something great:  I want a beer that when I drink it, it tastes like everything good about Christmas.  (And if you want to make that zero calories - feel free to delete something else that I've asked for!)

That's it!  That's ALL, Santa!  I think I've been quite conservative and I have faith in you! 

Have a Merry Christmas, Santa!

Ms. DayintheLife

P.S. - I will practice extreme self-control and not eat your cookies!

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

I wrote an acrostic poem for my dog. Because he brings out the artist in me. Or something like that.

B - Bursitis.  Because he has given me that in my shoulder.

A - Always wants what I'm eating.

N - Neurotic.

D - Difficult.  About everything.

I - Illogical (contrary to the principles of logic).  As in:  Desperately wants me to take him on a run.  Will not sit still so that I can put on the leash.  Cries when I leave him behind.  Cheesus.

T - Tortured.  By all the animals in our creek who have learned precisely the location of his electric fence boundary.  

Friday, November 15, 2013

Is it too late to write my own vows?

Hubby's Real Life Vows (updated because after being with hubby for 12 hours, I thought of three more.).

1.  I promise to not hate you when you put everything in the garbage disposal.  And then blame it on the kids.  And then ask me to "fix it."
In  my defense, he bought four.  There's still two left!!!

2.  I promise to gently remind you about details when you tell me, "I know I haven't seen this movie."

3.  I promise to cover for you in the areas of:  science, politics, religion, and trivia even though you have a master's degree.

4.  I promise to not hate you even when you shrink every single one of my nice shirts and then blame it on the quality of the fabric.

5.  I promise to not be jealous of fictional TV detectives that you fall in love with and virtually stalk.

6.  I promise to be able to find and download every obscure song that you hear on NPR and want on your playlist.  Even though you only give me one word (sung off-key) on which to go by.

7.  I promise to not be offended when you constantly correct my grammar, spelling, and vocabulary.

8.  I promise to take all the photographs of everything.  Everywhere.  For eternity.

9.  I promise to not be too pissed when every photo you take of me is blurry, off-center, or my head is cut off.

10.  I promise to understand when you get lost.  In the city you have lived in for 15 years.  In the mall.  On the way to find the restroom.  On vacation.  In the hospital.

11.  I promise to understand that procrastination is actually a skill that requires high levels of intelligence, self-control, and organization. 

12.  I promise not to laugh when you start to say something Very Important, but cannot remember any of the details or why it was actually Important.

13.  I promise to understand that when you say, "If you don't eat these leftovers today they are going in the trash," it is because you cannot waste food, not because you are trying to give me food poisoning.

14.  I promise to understand that next to breathing, sleeping is your favorite pastime.

15.  I promise to understand that you are physically incapable of making your own coffee.  Even when I buy you a Keurig.

I now pronounce you man and wife.

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Would you believe me if I told you it was Netflix's fault?

It's a good thing consistent blogging is not my real job.  And, let's not get into a discussion about:  What is my real job?

So, I've blogged like twice in the last month and a half?

Seriously.  I've considered shutting down my blog a lot during the past few months.  The problem is I cannot figure out how to transfer everything over to my 1991 Commodore without it completely blowing out the hard drive (kidding, but I do lack the technological skills and my laptop is almost that old).

So, here I am.

Netflix decided to release the third (?) season of Damages.  Freakin' finally (after I had completely forgotten what the f*ck happened in season one and two).  And then they released the third season of The Killing.  This is still sucking my time in a sickeningly enriching and enjoyable way.  Just last night I told hubby that when he dies I am totally stalking Holder.  Probably until I am jailed. 

And then Halloween happened somewhere in there.  Then after weeks of being smug about not getting sick like other (weaker) people and having a superior immune system - I got sick.  And, throughout all of this my Boy Child has had a teensy bit of an adjustment period...ahem...two middle school.  I've had to navigate that complicated road between Helicopter Mom and Delinquent/Meth Mom.  That.  is.  time.  consuming.

What else?  Oh, yeah.  I have four kids and I painted my Yukon Cornelius yellow and threw up a taxi sign on top.


Anyway.  I go to blog and here's what happens:

1.  Instead I clean out my 1044 emails because I am sick and tired of searching for that one email that is offering me a million dollars.  This takes about eight hours because I get distracted with wondering Do I want to improve my sex life?  And:  The fact that I have maybe 10 friends, so who are all these emails from?  Oh, yeah.  Some Russian chick wanting to be friends and that guy in South Africa who says we're related and needs my social security number (note to self:  I could totally have way more than 10 friends).

2.  I decide to make dinner (in which the smoke alarms signals it's ready).  True Story:  The five year old no longer responds at all when the smoke alarm goes off.  She asked me yesterday if it meant that I was cooking.  Thanks.

3.  I decide to clean the five year old's room (which has not been done since the last Saturday in August).  There are brand new clothes (summer clothes?) still in the bags (which my wonderful house cleaner has carefully hung on hangers in her closet).  Um, embarrassing.

4.  I decide to wash the Yukon.  During which time we find:  a half a sandwich (thank God it looked like peanut butter and jelly - which never really goes bad, right?), one apple (at least I think it was an apple?), numerous Craisins (seriously - a lot - I probably could have bagged them up and returned them to Costco - WTF?  - they cost too much to be wandering loose in the Yukon), seven paperclips (next time I'll just go to the Yukon when I need one), a jacket that's been missing since we went on summer vacation, and lots of homework papers.  Um, Boy Child?  Are those yours?

5.  I decide to change the calendar.  Which causes me to ponder the last month and think about how much I love Halloween and hate Christmas, which makes me sad, and guilty, and want to work on the family budget, which makes me sick, which makes me want to write down all the people I will give gifts to, which makes me shorten the list, which makes me really dread Christmas and wish Halloween could be twice, which makes me feel guilty, which makes me want chocolate, which makes me write chocolate down on the list, which makes me remember to update the calendars.

6.  I decide that instead of blogging what I really want to do is read all the blogs I love.  I get through one, laugh a lot, and then decide again to shut down my blog because I am not as good as all the people I love to read. 

7.  I download MayMyRun and MyFitnessPal (apparently "Pal" means Nazi-friend who chides your every bite).  After running for nearly all my life, I finally take the advice of a friend and download an app which virtually runs for me.  But, not quite.  I still have to get up and run.  Damn it.  I quickly became obsessed not with actually working out, but with knowing everything about my working out (mainly the fact that I am not working out).  How is this helpful?  Here's the app I want:  The one that works out and eats right for you while you are um, working and sleeping and catching up on Netflix?

8.  I look over at my enormous pile of prints and feel overwhelmed with guilt.  So, I actually work.  At what I get paid for.  Yeah.  Someone please give me a million dollars.  Wait.  Where's that email?

I'm no NOBLO MOFO (similar to NANOWRIMO, but you don't need to see a doctor for it).  And like the alcoholic I am taking it one day at a time.  I can only say I am sober blogging today

I've missed you blogosphere and I hope to see more of you soon.  Now, for the love of Pete, go do something useful!

Thursday, October 31, 2013

The Little Witch. Indeed.

Happy Halloween, guys!  I miss you!

I got this gem from The Bloggess' s post today.  If you don't read her, you should.  This video kind of says it all. 

Happy hauntings!

Friday, October 11, 2013

Short list.

1.  It's October 11 and I am still trying to decide on a costume.

2.  Despite the pile of prints, the uncertainty of the future, the fact that Boy Child has developed a high schooler's attitude while just starting middle school, and my ridiculously early "winter" weight gain, I am trying to be fully in the Spirit (the Halloween Spirit).

3.  We are trying to spend money only on "essentials" right now due to some business dealings we will have in the near future.  I am trying to convince hubby that this crazy person at Spirit Halloween  (for the low, low price of $99) is an "essential."

4.  Why can't money grow on trees?

5.  Would it be weird to ask hubby for this guy for Christmas? 

6.  I listened to my first book on tape.  It was Water For Elephants which I have been trying to read since 2006.  I know I'm late to the party - but it is a fabulous book.  If you haven't read it - do it as soon as possible.  But, here's the thing.  Listening to any book on tape (not like in a car on a cross-country trip) would probably make me feel old.  This particular book made me feel ancient.  (And blind.)

7.  Having children much later in life is not without its awkward embarrassments.  Every time I have been up to the middle school I see parents that I mistake for students.  So, I can only imagine they are mistaking me for the grandparent?  (Don't answer that.)

8.  I felt mildly successful that I had convinced my entire family to go scary for Halloween this year.  It's always been my dream, but it's never happened before.  Partly because it's difficult (and possibly traumatizing?) to convince a three and then four year old that she wants to be a zombie and not a princess.  But, now that she's FIVE she totally consented to being a zombie witch.  I'm not even sure what that is, but when she asked me today if her face could be painted pink instead of white with blood (which is what I told her it would be) I said, "Um.  No." 

9.  After all my diligence and persuasion in convincing my whole family to go scary, my kids have been singing this incessantly for about two weeks.  Now I kinda want our family to be this for Halloween:  

Damn the internet for trying to screw with my dreams.

10.  Since Halloween is my favorite holiday and our dogpuppy aims to contradict me every chance he gets, it totally figures that he's scared of Halloween decorations.  I have to drag him by this guy

Just a dead guy with his head in his hands.  No big.

to take him on a run everyday and when I do he first looks at me like this:

"Mother!  Save me from the dead guy!  Oh, and I HATE HALLOWEEN!"

And then quickly crosses behind me in order to get as far away from the dead guy as possible.  As much as I am beginning to love this dog if he can't learn to love Halloween and all it's gore soon, he may have to move out.

Keep your spirits up guys and try not to eat all the candy before Halloween.

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

If you are in front of the bus, do not turn right (or something like that).

Some signs are jacked up, right?  I mean driving is pretty simple, but some signs are just nuts.

Well, when I read, "NO RIGHT TURN IN FRONT OF THE BUS," which is the sign that is on the back of every city bus in our fine city, I have always figured that's pretty straightforward. 

Until this.

Boy Child (in the Yukon Cornelius - behind a city bus):  Mom, I've never understood that sign, "NO RIGHT TURN IN FRONT OF THE BUS."

Me:  What's not to understand?  You can't turn right in front of the bus.

Boy Child:  I get that.  But, why?

Me:  Um.  Duh.  Because the bus will smack you?

Boy Child:  Huh?


Boy Child:  How?  I don't get that.

Me:  (While driving because it's safe to take both hands off the wheel if you are trying to illustrate a dangerous driving technique with your hands...........while driving.)  Okay.  Look.  Pretend my left hand is our truck and my right hand is the bus.  So, here we are driving and I go to make a right turn in front of the bus.  And, BAM.  The bus smacks me.  Now do you get it?

Boy Child:  OOOOOOOOOOOH!  I have always thought that NO RIGHT TURN IN FRONT OF THE BUS meant that if you were driving in front of the bus you could never make a right turn.  Get it?  And like how would you ever be able to get where you were going?  Y'know like pretend my left hand is us..............

Me:  I get it.  But if that were the scenario how would you even be able to read the sign.

Boy Child:  Good point.
photo courtesy: 

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

I predict a long future of living at home.

You may want to read about this before reading this post.  Or, if you're not all that into reading feel free to just forge ahead.

Considering the transition to middle school has been a bit rough, I was giving Boy Child the "run down" on the way to the bus stop this morning.

Me:  Do you have your lunch?  Your homework?  Your gym clothes?  Your sax?  Your Essential Elements book?  DO YOU HAVE EVERYTHING?

Boy Child:  Jeez.  Yes, mom.  I have everything.  Oh!  I forgot to tell you something important!  I can't believe I almost forgot!

Me:  Let me guess - you have an important paper for me to sign?

Boy Child:  No, jeez.  I said important, mom.  Guess what happened yesterday!

Me:  Can't wait to hear.

Boy Child:  I SAW A UFO.

Me:  Really?  Really, son.  You saw a UFO?

Boy Child:  Yes!!!

Me:  Okay!  Have a great day at school!  I love you!

Boy Child (looking at me with a look that is usually reserved for cancer and death):  Wait.  I read this book one time and....

Me:  WAIT!  I know what you're going to say.  The book had the phone number to call if you saw a UFO?

Boy Child:  Jeez, mom.  How'd you know that?  That's kinda creepy the way you did that.  Yeah, I really wish I had that number now.

Me (rife with sarcasm):  Yeah, now would be the perfect time to report.

Boy Child (with a look of insane seriousness):  No kidding!  I gotta get that book back!!!!

P.S.  I walked back in the house and found his lunch sitting on the kitchen table.

P.S.S.  Just found Essential Elements on the table.  Cheese N. Rice.
Or maybe you will?


Sunday, September 15, 2013

The Girl Who Lived in a Prophylactic. *Almost* sounds like a movie, right?

Conversation in the Yukon Cornelius.

Girl 1:  Mom, why does Patsy (name changed to protect the innocent) live in a condom?

Me:  Um.  EXCUSE ME?

Girl 1:  Wait.  No, that's not right.  Not a condom.  A condominium.

Me:  Cheesus.  Wait.  Who lives in a condominium???  Sometimes called a CONDO.  NOT TO BE CONFUSED WITH A CONDOM.

Girl 1:  Which, by the way, what is a condom again?

Me:  Can we have this conversation another time?  Please?

Girl 1:  Yes, it's okay, mom.  Anyway I'm pretty sure I know and now I feel just silly for making that mistake, but I'm so glad it was with you and not, y'know, the public?

Me:  Yes.  Me, too.

Girl 1:  So, why does she live in a condo?  That's like those double houses, right?  Oh, wait.  That's complex, right?  Not, like I have a complex, but like she lives in a complex.  Wait.  Is it a complex?  It's something that sounds like condo and complex.


Girl 1:  THAT'S IT!!!  A DUPLEX!!!  Jeez, mom.  What took you so long to say the right word?

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Self confidence? Check.

Hubby had this idea that this would be the School Year of Goal Setting.  So, as a family we sat down at the beginning of the school year and wrote down a few personal goals for the month or year or day.  We shared them and we check our progress toward/revise our goals as a family on Sunday evenings.  I know, so Cleaverish of us, right?

Here's what Girl 2 wrote the first time.
#1?  She's seen me make a *few.*  Three out of four of my kids were born with no volume control, hence #2.  #3?  That was all her.
Her first time checking her own progress she proclaimed loudly, "Be awesome?  Definitely a big check!"

I guess self confidence is not one of her weaknesses.  Awesome.

Friday, September 6, 2013

A. None of the above. B. All of the above. C. What is the above. D. The teacher is crazy.

Heated conversation with one of my children in the Yukon Cornelius (whose AC is broken - thank you 112 degree "fall" weather) after he/she told me he/she got an "F" on a quiz.

Me:  So what exactly was the problem because an "F" was certainly not the first grade I was expecting you to get on a quiz the second week of school?  Was this review???  

(I did exhibit extreme self-control by not ending with, "FOR GOD'S SAKE.")

Child:  Well, the quiz was only 10 questions.  I legitimately got three wrong.  But, the fourth one just didn't make any sense.

Me:  How do you mean?

Child:  Well, the answers made no sense.

Me:  How do you mean?

Child:  Well, the correct answer was "None of the above."

Me:  So, what's weird about that?  By this time you should be familiar with answers such as:  None of the above, All of the above, A and C, B and D, F and F!, I mean B and C.

Child:  Well, here's the thing, "None of the above" is usually the last answer.  This "None of the above" was the first answer.  Y'know? 

Me:  Like it was A?

Child:  Yeah.

Me:  Well, did  you know that all the other answers were wrong?

Child:  Yeah, weird, but I did actually know that.

('Weird' indeed.)

Me:  So, wouldn't it have made sense that none of the answers were right?  Like, "None of the above," implies?

Child:  Well, no because there was nothing above the "None of the above" except for the previous question.  It should have said, "None of the below."

Me:  So, what did you mark?

Child:  One of the wrong answers.  And I got it wrong!  Can you believe that?  If you ask me that's just crazy.  The teacher's just crazy.  "None of the above" wasn't technically the right answer.

Me:  *Banging my sweaty head on the steering wheel.*

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Why can't we just get along and make decisions that are healthy for everyone?

I'm on the tail end (pun intended) of a summer running injury after which I became a gluttonous, carb loading slug...............oh, aaaaaaaaaand I'm clearly driving myself crazy.

Me:  You should go run.  You feel a little better now and your back, butt, and sides have not hurt for a few days.  And as much as you say you hate to exercise and workout, you are a much more rationale, sane, and happy person when you do.

Me:  Yeah, but I could overdo it and injure myself and be down and out for another month if I go run.  And, there's the fact that it's still 130 degrees in South Texas.  Y'know?  There's that.

Me:  Well, then you should just walk.  Besides, the dog wants to walk.  You'll hardly break a sweat.  Go walk.

Me:  Yeah, but I'm tired and there' much to do.

Me:  Your justifications are nuts.  You are going to Facebook and blog if you don't go.  Oh, and your obliques are HUGE.  Wait, where are your obliques?  Cheesus.  Where are they?

Me:  Shut-up.  I may have actually injured my oblique and that could have been causing all the pain.   So they could be just reacting to being hurt by.............gaining weight.  Y'know so they can feel more comfortable in this body that's gained weight?

Me:  See?  Your justifications are ca-razy.  YOU HAVE BRAND NEW RUNNING SHOES THAT COST MORE THAN A TRIP TO THE DOCTOR WITH X-RAYS.  GET UP AND GO RUN WALK.  You are never going to lose this weight you have gained if you don't get up and go out, you sloth.

Me:  I hate you.  I'm going to bed.

Me:  And then tomorrow you will wake up and your obliques will still be there and they will still not fit in your pants and you will hate me more.

Me:  Is there chocolate in the fridge?  Because I think there's chocolate in the fridge.

Me:  You are hopeless.  I quit.

Me:  Good because I'm tired and I am going to bed and I can't sleep if you are still talking.

Sunday, September 1, 2013

What's the best time to call you? Millertime? (I'm guessing that's not the right answer?)

I haven't been posting in a while.  Here's mostly why:

1.  Boy child is now playing the alto sax.  When I first found out he was going to play this instrument I pictured him playing jazz while I sipped a smooth drink.  That hasn't happened so far.  It's more like a cacophony of sound that makes you want to stab yourself.  Everyday it happens for 20 minutes during which time I cannot do anything but sit down and breathe slowly.

2.  About three weeks ago Girl 3 threw a laptop through the front window.  There are three positive aspects of this story. 
  • It was a toy laptop (that weighed probably more than the real laptops).
  • Our windows are cheap, but double paned.  Only one pane shattered.  We still haven't fixed it because we are those ghetto neighbors.
  • She was really aiming at her brother's head, not the window.  Wait.  How is that a positive?  I can't remember.
This brought all "summer fun" to a screeching halt and four short people were enlisted into the Mommy Hell Camp for the remainder of the summer.  Barking orders at them and consistently disciplining (consistently) really took it all out of me.  I really wanted us to go to family counseling after this incident or at least write a letter to Prudie.  Sadly, I don't believe in counseling and our insurance doesn't pay for counseling (I think) until a small animal dies and I remember hearing Prudie retired? 

So, I diagnosed us myself. 

Diagnosis?  We are crazy.

3.  I hurt myself.  It's an annoying kind of painfully painful pain (that's the scientific description) and so far (based on Google) I might have:
  • A sprained or fractured lumbar
  • A tumor in my back
  • Kidney disease
  • Sciatica
  • Pregnancy
  • Endemitriosis
  • Scoliosis
  • Kidney stones
  • Osteoarthritis or
  • Fibromyalgia
I might live a lot longer with this pain.  Or I might die.  Google doesn't seem to really be that specific.  I haven't exercised in about four weeks and I have so much fat and stress in my body that I feel like I might spontaneously combust at any moment.  On the upside if that happens, I may get the medical and psychiatric help I need.

4.  My kids started school.  This means I have spent the last two days filling out paperwork.

  • What's the best time to call you?
  • Have you read the discipline policy?
  • Is your child allowed to access the internet at school?
  • Where do you work?
  • Do you understand that if his electronic device breaks at school it is not the school's fault?
  • Have you had a criminal background check?
  • What race are you?
  • Do you want to volunteer?
  • Do you want to sell a box of The World's Finest Chocolate?
Two days in and I already want them to drop out.

5.  Two of my favorite bloggers closed down their blogs.  They were both really great writers.  One of them was related to me, so naturally she was/is amazingly talented.  So, of course it made me sad.  But it also made me want to shut mine down and sent me into this crazy tailspin.  Some kind of weird funk came over me (not the stinky kind) and I just decided to quit and do something I'm good at. 

But, then I couldn't think of anything to do, so I just tried to remember that Laughter Is The Best Medicine and I (wasted some good time that I could have been effectively and consistently disciplining my children or telling the schools where I work) Googled some really funny shiz. 

Real people doing their thing. 

I love them and I laugh like it's the first time every time. 

And, thanks, you guys for writing such funny stuff too that always makes me laugh. 

And, happy Labor Day because this one post took me three days to write and now it's a holiday!

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Thanks, hubby. Now we are all gonna die.

So, we celebrated our twenty-third wedding anniversary by going to see The Conjuring - a horror movie *based on fact*.  Because what says enduring love like that?

No spoiler alerts, but it's one of those movies about demonic possession that could happen.  Think The Exorcist, Insidious, Amityville Horror (all those happened just like the movie showed, right?).  And, like all horror movies it has a really scary doll in it along with a seemingly harmless childhood game (clap and find which is like hide-and-seek) that turns into an invitation to terror.

My personal creed after seeing movies like this is to not really "discuss" them or think much about them because I don't want to incite the demons.  Y'know?  Perfectly rationale.

But, it doesn't matter, y'all.  The demons are here and I didn't even open my mouth.

Hubby had the nerve (it's like he's screaming, "Come and get me.  I'm not scared.") to text me this yesterday: 
He texted it, so that means he was with it.  You are in imminent danger, hubby.
I nearly $hit my pants.

Then (after I had only semi-recovered from that) last night after making a running leap into my bed and quickly covering up with my blankets, I finally fell asleep.  ONLY to be awakened by Girl 3.

Girl 3:  Mommy, I'm scared.

Me:  Of what?

Girl 3:  I was playing hide and seek in a big box in my dream and it was really scary.  Can I sleep with you?

Perfect.  You guys - I'm sure my days are numbered.

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Of course she does.

We have a four year old who can be a bit of a challenge.  So, we have decided to be proactive in discussing the upcoming 2013-2014 school year.  This was our conversation today:

Hubby to Girl 3:  When school starts this year, remember you are going to behave appropriately, right?

Girl 3:  Yup.

Hubby:  Listening to the teacher, respecting the other children, obeying the teacher.  Right?

Girl 3:  Yup.

Me:  When the teacher asks you to do something what should your response be?

Girl 3:  YES, SIR!

Me:  And, on the off chance that you have a female teacher?

Girl 3:  I MEAN, YES MA'AM!

Hubby:  And, how do we treat our friends?

Girl 3:  We buy them lots of ice cream!

Hubby (snickering):  Before we buy them ice cream.


Hubby:  And, you remember consequences, right?  For inappropriate behavior?

Girl 3:  Hmm.  What are consequences again?

Hubby:  Like no night-time book, or losing movie, or losing family time?

Girl 3:  Oh, yeah.

Hubby:  Or losing your birthday!

Girl 3 (giggling wildly):  I CAN'T LOSE MY BIRTHDAY, SILLY DADDY!

Me:  Well, remember we talked about your birthday party and how you need to show us some appropriate behavior before we can decide whether or not you can have a birthday party?

Girl 3:  Oh, yeah.

Me:  Tell daddy where you might want your party.


Hubby:  And, what kind of party?

Girl 3:  You mean what kind of theme?

Hubby:  Yeah, I guess.  What kind of theme?


Monday, August 5, 2013

They say the first 23 years are the hardest. So, I guess it's smooth sailing from now on?

Yesterday was my twenty-third wedding anniversary.  Don't do the math.

We celebrated by going to see a movie.  At the theater.  It was kind of hard to remember what to do at a theater since we haven't been to one in about as long as we've been married. 

I got two free movie passes from a parent of a child who was in my class back in January and we decided to use them yesterday. 

Here's how it went pretty much from start to finish.

1.  We had to decide on what movie to see (after a seven day decision making session on what to do had been made).  Here were our choices (as I remember them).
  • Some movie about a Japanese-type monster who tries to take over the world that my 11 year old son saw a few weeks ago at a birthday party.  A birthday party for 11 year old boys.  So, that one was nixed pretty much right away.
  • A Smurf movie.  Um, nixed.
  • A movie with two guys facing in opposite directions each holding guns(?).  Yes, I think they were large guns.  So, an action film to celebrate 23 years of marriage (at least a few of them happy)?  No.  We have four kids, so that means we've seen just about all the action we can handle.
  • A movie about a boy living with his divorced mom who has an asshat boyfriend played by Steve Carrell.  Hmm.  Could be good.  So, naturally hubby nixed it.  (Just kidding, hubby.  Kind of.)
  • A vast array of foreign films.  See the thing about foreign films on your 23rd wedding anniversary (I'm guessing) is that you could wind up with subtitles (hubby hates them and I admit, it is kind of like work on your anniversary), or a lesbian love scene which (although, I'm sure hubby *might* not mind) could be a little awkward.
  • The Conjuring.
So, yes.  We went to see The Conjuring which we both wanted to see.  Because what more appropriate way to celebrate 23 years of marriage than seeing a demonic horror movie that is *based on fact*?

2.  The last movie hubby and I saw together at the theatre was What Lies Beneath.  That was roughly 13 years ago and it might have also been to celebrate our anniversary.  There are a few things that have changed in movie theaters since then.
  • I didn't step in gum.
  • It apparently isn't awkward anymore to sit right next to someone you don't know
  • I guess that's because there are large armrests now on every seat?  I kept waiting for someone to say, "Please put your trays in the upright position and prepare for take-off."
  • The smallest bucket of popcorn you can buy costs more than the actual movie ticket and it could feed about eight people.
  • There is a Starbucks in the movie theater.
  • There is beer sold in the movie theater which in my opinion is depriving a lot of people of some good old fashioned ingenuity.  Kidding!  Kind of.
3.  Hubby and I acted like old people a lot. 
  • We chose a matinee so that there would be no danger of falling asleep during the movie.
  • We agreed to have 'a movie and dinner' rather than 'dinner and a movie.'
  • We both brought sweaters and spread them on our legs.
  • We whispered in hushed voices during several parts of the movie.  But, since we are both deaf we just ended up shouting to each other during the movie.
  • We both commented when we saw small children at this movie, "My God.  Who would bring their kid to this movie???  What the hell is wrong with them???"
  • We both wanted them to, "Turn it down for Pete's sakeWe're deaf, but not that deaf."
  • We shook our heads at the party-ers in front of us who left about 12 empty beer bottles in their chairs after the movie.
  • We both got up to pee.  One of us more than once.
  • We both commented upon leaving that, "It feels like we've been in here forever."
4.  The movie was pretty good and I'm glad we saw it.  If you are an old timer here you know that we love horror movies and the more *based on fact* they are, the better. 

I wish I could give you a movie review and in fact I promised my sister a movie review on this blog.  But, I just can't. 

Because here's the thing about a movie like The Conjuring:  You don't talk about it afterward.  You try to pretend you never saw it.  Because if you think about it too much (or God forbid talk about it), it could happen to you.   

The movie was good, we ate fattening bad-for-you food afterward, and we talked mostly about our kids.  Was it a great day?  Yes, it was.  After you've been married 23 years it's not so much what you do, but just the company of each other.

I love you, hubby.  And I hope we make it to 24! 

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Direct communication is always best, but if you want to leave me a water balloon in the sink I will have to draw my own conclusions.

I've been having fantasies about going to this place:

photo courtesy:  That's Isla de Mujeres and I really want to go there.

I've even spent some *free* time seriously calculating costs for six people and it looks affordable....if we don't eat for a few months and I don't ever get a boob job.  (Not that a boob job was ever "on the table."  But, hypothetically speaking.  The vacation would be about as much as a boob job.  So, *I guess* it's either "boob job" or "island family vacation.") 

I've even gone so far as telling hubby about this little island family vacation fantasy of mine.

He is notoriously cheap, but I thought he was completely on board with it.

Until I woke up this morning and this was in the kitchen sink:

That is a water balloon and neither the kids nor I will claim placing it in the sink.

Hubby:  Are you trying to tell me something?  

Friday, July 26, 2013

It's hard to grow up. But, I guess not as hard as having a raccoon dog in your backyard rather than just a plain raccoon?

Hello.  Remember me?  Ms. Day In The Life?

Normally I operate this blog and write about my mildly funny and mostly dysfunctional life.

Lately I've just been feeling nostalgic as summer slips quickly through my fingers.

So, this is going to be a post about nothin'.  (And thank you, auto correct, but I meant to say nothin.')

1.  I have not been busy posting, but I have been busy reading all of my favorite blogs.  I read this one today and it made me cry like a big 'ole baby.  It's almost as if the writer had been hanging out in my house this summer (in a totally non-creepy way).  And really I rarely cry so either I am pre-menopostal, or it's a really good post (I suspect the latter).

2.  This awesome lady who used to live in my neighborhood before she up and moved across the globe, has been back in our neighborhood for the whole month of July.  I like my blog, but not as much as I like having coffee, and dishing it up with her.  She's like the mac-n-cheese of friends (and I hope when she reads this she will know what a huge compliment that is) and it's been splendid having her here.

3.  Being with my four kids all summer day and night has..............not been without its challenges.  The fighting, teasing, arguing, and screaming has taken on new heights and most of the time I feel like this: 

Sometimes I'm the ref.  Sometimes I'm the boxer.

4.  My very good friend, and frequent blog visitor has moved to a different neighborhood.  Insert any one of a gazillion sad emoticons or possibly a cat crying because her best cat friend has moved.....and the cat is roller skating carrying a birthday cake........but, I digress. 

I knew this move was coming for a long time, but I'm not good at change (let's face it, I'm still trying to get rid of my 80's haircut and make-up).  The reality of her being gone faster than George and Weezie Jefferson (albeit just about 15 miles away, and I do own a car, and there is a Starbucks on the way - four or five in fact) is starting to sink in.  It does help tremendously that so far, like Joe Walsh, fame and fortune haven't changed her.  And she has already graciously let us crash her obnoxiously fabulous home and beautiful pool.  Mrs. JustAHausWeyef, this one is for you:

5.  Lastly, there is no time like summer in Texas to make you second guess not investing in cable television.  There.  is.  nothing.  on.

So, night before last we sat down as a family and watched Nova on PBS.  Well, I am *kinda* lying.  We sat down to watch America's Got "Some" Talent as a family, but this family friendly show had some lewd sex jokes on it, so we flipped channels and that's how we got to Nova on PBS.

And, I found out about raccoon dogs.

Not familiar with them either?  Well, don't worry.  Here's a photo for you:

photo credit:  If you just yelped, "CHEESUS!" and backed away from the screen, don't worry you are not alone.  Oh, and it's mildly disturbing that it kinda looks like they put this rac-dog on a fluffy bed to take this photo??? 

I might be feeling like time is spinning out of control what with losing my baby boy and one of my bestest friends, but at least I don't have raccoon dogs digging up my garbage?! 

So, thanks, PBS!  With quality programming like you, I can take the heat and I don't even miss cable!

Sunday, July 14, 2013

Our first child graduated! The job prospects don't look too good, and peeing or pooping on the floor is still a possibility. But no one ever said parenting was easy, right?

Anyone want to adopt a recent graduate?

So, puppy graduated from Puppy School Friday night.  (Or as hubby has become fond of saying, "He finally got his dog-torate.)  (I didn't say the jokes were good.)

1.  Around 3:00 p.m. on Friday - approximately four hours before the graduation ceremony, I started to feel guilty about not baking puppy a cake, or sending out invitations to his graduation (*maybe* I'd been drinking).  But, Lady Luck was on my side! 

Coincidentally I was baking three cakes (my human children were having a fundraiser the next day).  As usual, I tried to burn the house down while making the cakes.  This resulted in a lot of gooey cake batter pouring out of the oven door and spilling onto the floor.  This resulted in a Huge Clean Up.....and a trip to the store for more beer.

Thankfully, puppy was playing outside while the smoke alarms were sounding and billowing black smoke mixed with brown sugar and butter was oozing out of my 350 degree oven.

Where's the Lady Luck part?  You ask. 

When puppy came in he licked every surface of my closed oven door and drawer and the entire surface area of the wood floor on which my stove sits.............obsessively for about two hours.   AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND, I let him!  Because I owed him. 

THEN, I let him wash it all down with some delicious toilet water!  I'm pretty sure he had a huge grin on his face.

Puppy, you are welcome!  Happy Graduation!

2.  In the Yukon Cornelius on the way to the ceremony I was telling the family about how puppy just loves Cheez Whiz and that we should have gotten him some for his graduation.  I then told them about how the vet feeds puppy Cheez Whiz on a tongue depressor when she needs to do something to him. 

Girl 1 said, "Oh, you mean like when she needs to put a tongue depressor in his mouth?"

I said, "Um.  No."

Girl 3 said, "Oh, you mean like when he does something good."

I said, "Um.  No."

Girl 1 said, "So, when does the vet do that exactly?"

I said, "Y'know?  Like when she needs to stick something up his butt.  Like a thermometer."

Most of the Yukon Cornelius' passengers snickered after that quite loudly.

Then hubby said (snickering the loudest), "Well, I like Cheez Whiz, a lot, too....................but, I am not falling for that trick."

I think we all felt closer to hubby after that.  So, thank you hubby.

3.  Since puppy went from birth to graduation in eight months, I did not have time to make him a scrapbook documenting every milestone he has passed.  (Plus, I really didn't want my last two human children to be jealous since they only have one page scrapbooks themselves which basically document the fact that they were indeed born.) 

I think it's okay though because during the graduation I took about 8000 photos with my phone and they all look like this:

Can you tell what the f*ck that is?  No, me neither.

So, clearly he's an ungrateful bastard when it comes to memories and important milestones.

4.  I think my four year old might be ready to graduate pretty soon. 

Puppy knows about one command (sit) to about the 50th percentile  mark when compared to other border collie mutts his own age.  And he was able to graduate in the State of Texas (apparently otherwise known as the State of Poor Testing Standards).  And the chance that he will be within the 50th percent of obeying this command increases exponentially (if I may be so brave as to use a word that I don't fully understand) if you are holding a bacon treat.

This got me thinking - Girl 3 might be pretty close to graduating herself! 

She knows about one command (the actual command depends on her mood, how much sleep she's had, what distractions are present, and other sundry factors) to about the 50th percentile mark when compared to other mischievous four year old girls who think they are diva queens.  The chance that she will be in the 50th percent of obeying your command increases exponentially if you are holding a brand new Barbie in your hand and threatening her with loss of technology while simultaneously promising to buy her the new Barbie.

Graduation, for another child - here we come!!!

5.  I'm afraid we might look like a lot of other parents who just had recent graduates.  Disappointingly, despite one of our children having completed a major accomplishment, life looks pretty much the way it did before we had a child graduate.

He still lays around the house all day seemingly doing nothing, waiting for someone to give him food, clean up after him, and play games with him.  He has yet to get out of the house and look for a stinkin' job, and as far as I can tell he is still not making enough money to pay his own way, let alone his cell phone bill.

Bandit before graduation.

Bandit after graduation.  See the difference?  No?  Me neither.


Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Cleaning is making me an alcoholic.

It's July 9 and I am completing a task that's been on my To Do List for 11 years (more or less) AND a task that's been on my To Do List for about three years. 

When we bought our house I thought it would be relaxing and sexy to get a whirlpool tub.

Biggest.  Mistake.  In.  My.  Life.  (Right next to "Hair of the Dog," "Eat Clean," and "Use a Dishwasher That's Not Yourself.")

My God. 

For clarification purposes, we've used the whirlpool part of our tub I'd guess less than 10 times - all within six months of moving into this house.  AAAAAAAAND it cost, I think, $2000?  So, if I were to cost analyze this - that's $200 a bath?  If I could teleport back in time I would have spent $1000 at Victoria's Secret and another $1000 on beer and been relaxed and sexy for a very long time only having to clean myself and my recycling bin.

After waiting 11 years to clean these sonofabitch jets and three years to clean the dishwasher here are a few of my thoughts:

1.  The warning on most cleaners that tell you not to mix the cleaner with anything are written for me.  When I tackle a cleaning task like whirlpool tub jets that haven't been cleaned in 11 years and a dishwasher that's not been cleaned in about three years I want to mix:  CLR, bleach, Borax, vinegar, rubbing alcohol, and baking soda (and maybe the half filled bottle of Coke that's been on the fridge for about four months just because I read on the Internet one time that Coke cleans pennies really well).  Then I want to stand back and see the whole thing blow up so that I can text hubby, "There's been a minor accident and we *might* have to move."

2.  Whirlpool tub jets that haven't been cleaned like ever might give you an STD.  If not, cleaning them will make you asphyxiate and vomit.  And, then you might think you would be better off with an STD.

3.  The Internet is a lying sleazebag.  (Autocorrect just corrected sleazebag.  FINALLY autocorrect gets me.)  The Internet told me I could clean the dishwasher with CLR (which I am pretty sure is what they threw on the witch in The Wizard of Oz).

You can.

But FIRST (what they DON'T tell you because "they assume you know that," said hubby quite condescendingly), make sure there is not a small cup blocking the disposal.

Because if there is you will go check Facebook because "you got this" and come back into the kitchen and there will be suds all.  over.  the.  floor.

(No.  There are no photos in this post because I am too ashamed and horrified at my pitiful cleaning skills and I still want you to like me.)

4.  I cannot believe I am still married.  After 23 (?) years hubby must overlook my total lack of cleanliness (and common sense) because I am beautiful?  On the inside? 

5.  It would have been easier (and probably more cost effective considering I've been through 5? bottles of bleach, more CLR than it's healthy to inhale, two scrub brushes, and one level of sanity) to replace the dishwasher, and take a sledgehammer to the tub.  After all, we have two tubs and the other one the housecleaner keeps sparkling.

6.  The kids asked me why I am cleaning the dishwasher and the tub jets.  Here's how that went:

Conversation 1:

Boy child:  But, mom you never take a bath.  Do you?  You're a germ freak.  I thought you said baths were nasty because all that water is floating around and you could get an infection and that's why you should always take showers.....with shower shoes?

Me:  YOU ARE RIGHT.  I SAID THAT.  BUT I CANNOT LOOK AT THIS ANY LONGER BECAUSE IT IS MAKING ME PHYSICALLY ILL AND WE ARE GOING TO HAVE TO MOVE IF I DON'T CLEAN THIS RIGHT NOW.  TODAY.  (I was screaming because the water in all six jets was on and there was still water coming out of the faucet - for good measure.  And, also because the fumes and the actual work of it made me crazy.)

Boy child:  Okay, mom.  It's okay.  Don't have a cow.  You don't have to scream.  I'm right here.  And, also are you sure you should be breathing all this stuff?  'Cuz it kinda stinks in here.

Then Boy child passed out.

Conversation 2:

Girl 3:  Momma, these bubbles all over the kitchen look COOL!  But, why do you have to clean the dishwasher if the dishwasher is for cleaning?

Me:  Please go to the fridge and bring momma a beer.

7.  The Internet is a lying sleazebag.  Wait, did I already say that?  Step 112 on the dishwasher cleaning post was something like, "Make sure you run another cycle in the dishwasher with just water so that you can rinse the CLR out." 

In case you ever decide to clean your dishwasher - just know that is a lie.

There is no rinsing the CLR out.  You will have bubbly CLR on the bottom of your dishwasher after at least two cycles of clean water.

But, I can only think having your family consume CLR residue of off "clean" dishes for weeks to come is better than having them eat from dishes washed in a dirty dishwasher?  Right?

8.  It's 10:01 and I am drinking a beer to toast somewhat clean fairly less disgusting whirlpool tub jets that we will not use for another 11 years, AND a clean dishwasher which will be used to dish up poison that might kill my family!  AND I am free from this kind of work for another THREE TO ELEVEN YEARS!  CHEERS!

Sunday, July 7, 2013

home of the free, land of the brave

I did not see a horse with "five legs" this Fourth of July. 

Last Fourth of July in keeping with the forefathers quest for freedom from religion we saw a horse with five legs.  It was at a quaint parade in a small town where apparently the horses (in addition to getting patriotic) get frisky every now and again.

Randy was the last horse to trot through the parade route and he stopped right in front of my family and decided that would be a good time to try and mount the female (?) horse in front of him. 

Photo courtesy of: I was pretty pissed, too when Randy tried to ruin the patriotic time I was having.
Most of the cowboys we were sitting around snickered loudly while the children we were around either stared wide-eyed or screamed loudly, "MOMMY, WHAT IS HAPPENING?  WHAT IS THAT HORSE TRYING TO DO TO THAT OTHER HORSE?  WHY IS IT HURTING IT?  AND WHY DOES IT HAVE FIVE LEGS?  OH MY GOD!  IS THAT A LEG?"

To say the least, it was awkward for all the adults witnessing and traumatic for all the children who witnessed this.  Truth be told (because it's always a good idea to tell the truth, thank you George Washington), I was traumatized for quite a while afterward as well.

This year, there were no horses with five legs.  For that, I am thankful.

Instead there was a bar complete with prostitutes (?) and an effigy hanging on the porch.  Because what says, "Happy Birthday, America!" better than that?  (Except, of course, a horse with five legs.)

I bet the guy on the porch was pissed, too.

Sunday, June 30, 2013

The report card is in and we might not graduate.

School is out for most people this summer, but for my family school has been in since the end of May.  Puppy is in Puppy Obedience School which is a misnomer because any idiot will tell you (and there must be a lot of idiots because if I could make puppy listen for every time I hear this I wouldn't need a freakin' puppy class), "Puppy school is not for the puppies, but for the owners." 

So, our family progress report so far?  As far as I can tell:  No one has learned a damn thing and it will be a miracle if we graduate and are promoted to the next grade.

1.  Sit - B+

Puppy will sit when there is a nice juicy bacon treat in your hand or when he thinks there is, unless people he doesn't know are involved.  Then he will just try to goose them in the worst way imaginable.

2.  Walking on a leash - A - D

Puppy Obedience Class is also known as Spend All Our Money on Dog Paraphernalia Class. 

Puppy now has a total of six collars. 

He has one puppy collar that he outgrew right after the first class.  He has one regular collar that he just kind of wears like the necklace your mom gave you that you never take off.  He has one electric collar that we use when he is in the backyard so that he doesn't run away (except that we forget to put it on him a lot of the time because he has SIX collars).  He has one choke chain collar that we tried with him because he was pulling too much on our walks. 

We found out that a choke chain is actually cruel and can make a dog more aggressive.  Part of me says, "Whatever.  Our Golden used one almost everyday until he died.  He loved everyone and never needed therapy."  The other part of me says, "OK.  Let's buy one more collar." 

So, puppy also has a pinch collar.  But, damn it, we found out this one is cruel, too.

So, puppy also has a Gentle Leader collar. 

Gawd.  Stop the madness.

On the video that comes with the Gentle Leader collar the narrator says, "The most important thing to remember in training your dog is consistency."

Seriously?  We have six dog collars.  Just give us an F and let's move on.

3.  Leave It:  Puppy - meh, Girl 3 - B+.

I am not even going to be able to grade puppy for Leave It because it has been reduced to a joke.

Here's what really happened the other day:

Me:  Girl 3 stop taking puppy's toy away from him.  He doesn't like that and he's gonna bite you.

Girl 3:  No he's not.  We're playing.

Puppy growing more and more agitated.

Me:  Stop doing that.  He doesn't like it.

Girl 3:  No, I think he likes it.

Puppy mouthing Girl 3 and Girl 3 screaming and yet pulling one more time at the toy.


Girl 3:  OKAY.

Puppy finally getting and keeping his toy.

4.  Stay - C-

I don't really think puppy understands stay.  He wants his bacon treat, so he tries to guess what we want him to do.  If there is any kind of squirrel, cat, dog, human, bug, or anything moving on the other side of Stay he does not stay.

5.  Take It - A+

Puppy knows Take It.  He takes "it" all the time.  Bacon treats, Little Pony brushes, dropped pencils, food scraps, dirty socks, brand new shoes, etc. , etc.

6.  Shake - D

Again, puppy really has a taste for bacon treats.  So, today he let me "shake" his paw for about a half an hour.  But, then I tried to get him to do it just now and he acted like I was ca-razy.

7.  Down - A-

Puppy loves Down.  He is one lazy dog with no strength in his lower back and butt muscles.  And our wood floors do not help.  He will Sit and immediately lay down because - I don't know - he's lazy?  It's actually pretty hilarious and I wish I could do what he does.  Just sit anywhere and then lay down.  I want to do that in the grocery store.  A lot.

So, I'm not a teacher anymore but I'd say our average is about what?  A solid C?  With one missing grade and one grade that is just wacky inconsistent? 

I'm really hoping Puppy (and by Puppy I mean Our Family) is like one of those people I'm always hearing about that dropped out of high school because it wasn't challenging enough and now they're crazy famous and rich.

Fame and fortune here we come!  (And we'll try not to goose all the neighbors trying to get there.)

Sunday, June 23, 2013

Sorry, y'all. I'm busy procrastinating....I mean drinking....I mean procrastinating.

So, it's been a family filled summer so far.  Here's what I've learned.

1.  Someone made a wine for me.  (Not to be confused with a whine for me.  Someone made that for me a long, long time ago.)

Notice the little person relaxing at her desk?  She's clearly a woman.  To which I say, "Huh?"  In my extensive research and experience, men procrastinate far more than women.  Amirite?

2.  I've lost weight.  Maybe.  My swimsuit bottoms almost fell off in the pool today.  This could be because:  I have lost weight.  My swimsuit bottom elastic has completely lost its elasticity.  Or, I am a really bad swimmer.  I am going with - I lost weight.  So, yay!  And, boo.  Because now I have to shop again.

3.  Because during the first week of summer our kids were turning into computer screens, communicating with acronyms, and pausing their games only to toilet themselves and eat, hubby and I decided we had to somehow limit their technology use.

We have now limited it to the point where our kids hate us so much they might move out before school starts again in August. 

We arrived at this status via a surprising move last Sunday evening, when we voted in my family.  The two options up for vote were:  1.  Kids will use technology only on Saturday and Sunday for unlimited use.  There will be no technology use Monday - Friday.  Or, 2. kids use technology for one hour a day at the same hour Sunday - Saturday.  The kids voted for Option 2, and for one full week we have battled and argued each and every day about how many minutes are in a freaking hour.

Seriously?  Tuesday I thought Girl 2 was having the DTs because we had to stop her game and leave the house during her "one hour."

4.  I am addicted to Daft Punk.  My kids are happy, but a little concerned about me.  Have a listen and you'll soon be addicted, too.  You're welcome.

5.  I have been unable to run with puppy because he threw my hip out pulling me and I am recovering with large doses of Aleve, chocolate, and beer.  So, I am getting no exercise and gaining weight.  And he is getting no exercise and acting like a maniac.  This has created a vicious cycle similar to drug dependency.  He is hyper because no one is exercising him and no one wants to exercise him because he's too damn hyper.  Cheesus.

Hubby had a moment of pure genius earlier and declared, "We should have named puppy "Technology" because then everyone would want to play with him."

That, folks, has been my summer thus far.  How have you been?

Sunday, June 16, 2013

June 16. Do you know where your brain is?

This is not a real post because it's been raining down here in Texas, I have four kids who are now home for the summer, I have one ill-behaved hyper puppy, and my house is that small.  So, it's just a list (with no particular title, in no particular order).  I promise to make it up to you in August when the kids go back to school.

1.  My son graduated from fifth grade.  Fifth grade is mandatory the last time I checked, so I still don't really understand graduation.  But, there it was.  On the upside:  I didn't cry.  On the downside:  I did not get one single decent photo.  That's okay because I'm really hoping he'll graduate from high school (and possibly even college) and I figure I'll get some photos then. 

Here's a story I thought about during the ceremony (besides, of course, how much I love my son): 

A good friend's mother-in-law brought her a box of stuff one time when she came to visit.  It was some of her husband's stuff  from since birth.  Creepy stuff.  Like his umbilical cord, all his report cards, his first lost tooth, his first lock of hair. 

The MIL said simply, "I don't want this.  Do you?" 

My friend politely mumbled, "Um.  Ok."  (While thinking, "Eww.  Hell to the no.  Throw that $hit away.")

I like to think of this story (or my version of it) when I don't get a good photo.  Somehow it makes me feel less guilty.

2.  School let out on a Thursday.  We left for vacation three days later.  This planning on my part resulted in my calendars not getting changed to June until day before yesterday.  So, I lost a few days.  I'm hoping to get them back sometime when the kids are in college.

3.  I don't understand chess pie.  I love most any kind of dessert (sometimes even ones with fruit), but chess pie is basically flour and butter?  And the name?  Not appealing.  Did they play a lot of chess during The Depression?  I am going to Google its history later today (in my free time).

4.  Why is there more laundry when you go on vacation if all anyone wears while on vacation is jammies and swimsuits?

5.  While on vacation I got a case of Swollen Lip.  No, this is not a joke.  I was going to attach a photo, but then I remembered that you can't unsee something.  Just Google it (or if you'd rather remain unscathed, don't).  I haven't had this reaction since shortly after I gave birth to Girl 1.  That reaction came with hives and a bunch of other pleasant (and attractive) symptoms and eventually I needed a shot to get rid of everything (a steroid shot, although I took plenty of other shots too as preemptive measures).

I could feel this reaction coming on, but as we were *kind of* camping, there wasn't a whole lot I could do to prevent it. 

I have been taking Zyrtec to try and calm the effects of this Swollen Lip thing. 

So, what's the point?  The point is:  Zyrtec makes me zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.  That quick.  Ask Hubby.

It's like this:  Me, "Babe, I'm taking the Zyrtec now."  And then I wake up the next morning on the kitchen floor right where I took the Zyrtec.

How do people function on this stuff?

The sad part?  (Aside from the fact that I've basically slept through some of the first days of summer.)  I was on Zyrtec for much of Girl 1's infancy and toddlerhood.  That *could* explain A Lot.

6.  Girls 1, 2, and 3 came back from vacation with another stuffed animal to add to their collection of about 10,000.  Hubby "won" them these lovies after spending all of their college tuition money (which total was probably just around $550) gaming.  I AM DECLUTTERING PEOPLE!  DOESN'T ANYONE IN MY OWN FAMILY READ MY BLOG?

7.  Puppy is in college.  He's been to three classes and I'm not sure what he's learned, but here's what has happened. 

  • Girl 3 has fallen off the back of her stool.  After standing on her stool, hubby told her to SIT DOWN.  So, she sat criss-cross on a stool and fell right off the back.  After practically bringing all of Petsmart to the back of the store with her screaming she wailed, "I was sitting down like dad said.  See?  That's why I stand up."
  • Puppy has terrorized another family in the class who have a chocolate lab who is tiny enough to fit nicely inside a tortilla.  It's embarrassing and awkward.
  • We've purchased about $400 worth of gadgets, treats, leashes, and collars to help train our dog.
  • Countless people have told us, "Really puppy classes are for the owners so that they can be trained."  Really?  No kidding.  We might be in school for the rest of our lives, and hubby might need to get another job.

8.  Remember how I told you that my four year old never stops talking?  Well, one of the great things about summer is that now she can torture talk to others in my family besides just me.  Here was her conversation with Boy Child a few days ago.


Boy Child:  Ok.  Hi Cheetahbellofthejungle.


Boy Child:  Ok.  Hi Princess Celestia.


Boy Child:  Fine.  Hi Cinderella.  Guess what?

Girl 3:  What?

Boy Child:  I'm giving Girl 3 one million dollars.

Girl 3:  YIPPEE!!!!!!!!!!  I GET ONE MILLION DOLLARS!!!!!!!!!!

Boy Child:  No, you don't.  You're Cinderella not Girl 3.

Ah, nice move, Grasshoppa.

That's all I got.  I'm going to go take my Zyrtec now and sleep until the kids go back to school.  Have a great summer!

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Terrorized by a four year old. Or Hoarders, Part 2

So, I started doing this a few days ago.  It has been positively as joyful as bathing suit shopping for me.  On a related (kind of) note:  I chose not to buy suits this year because I thought I still had two gorgeous suits.  But, it seems the space between my neck and navel - some would call this The Bust - has shrunk.  To be safe I googled shrinking bust size.  This search yielded 1.  Shrinking building in Japan (which might mess with my mind the same way that my shrinking boobage has), and 2.  Another search where I found this sexpert Q&A  which basically says I should quit exercising in order to get what little boobage I had back.  So............................what?  Google:  YOU ARE CONFUSING AND I HATE YOU.


Recap:  I am decluttering my home space by space.  This is a torturous and often humorous (because torture and humor are so closely related) experience that has revealed some frightening things about my family.

1.  My four year old never stops talking.  Here's how "cleaning" has gone since her last day of school.

Her (speaking loudly from the other room):  Can we play a game?

Me:  No, baby.  Momma has to clean the entire house cabinet by cabinet.  Maybe when you are 24.

Her:  So, in a few minutes?

Me:  Maybe.

Her:  What does maybe mean again?  Yes? 

Me (making a stabbing motion through my heart):  Maybe means maybe yes or maybe no.  We'll see.

Her:  Okay.  Then, can we read a book?

Me (making a gun with my hand and pointing it toward my head):  Remember I'm cleaning so the water is running and I can't really hear you.  Come in here.

Her (skips into the kitchen):  Okay.  Can you hear me now?  Wow.  That stuff is really dirty.  Why is everything so gross?  When is the last time you did this?  Can we just move?

Me:  No.  We can't move, but I'm pretending we are moving just to keep me on my toes.

Her:  That doesn't make sense to me.

Me:  I know.  That's how cleaning is.

Her:  Why are you throwing away all of our baby dishes?

Me:  I'm not.  I am saving them for when you have babies.  Then you can give them to your babies.

Her:  Well, I'm glad mine's not blue because I am only having girls.

Me:  Well, you get what you get.  If you get a boy, you get a boy.

Her:  Well, if I get a boy, I'm sending him right back or giving him away.

Awesome.  So goes two minutes of cleaning.  We are sending away boy babies.

2.  The other day the kids came home and asked me what I had done all day.  I explained to them that I am on a mission to clean and declutter the house space by space and that this might take until they finish college.  

Girl 1:  Well, you could start by getting rid of these baby spoons.  I mean like, seriously mom?  Why do we still have these?

Boy Child:  Because, Girl 1!  Mom might have another baby.

Awesome, Part II.  This makes me both frightened for Boy Child that he thinks this is even possible at my age and also a bit horrified that the baby spoons are still in there.

3.  Yesterday I uncovered this:

Yes, that is 8000 plastic knives.  Cheesus.  Who does that???  Who has 8000 plastic knives (but no fork to save a life) in their house???  I am ready for the Mother Load of Church Picnics.....or something.

4.  Today I decided we'd had enough cleaning.  In one day I will have four kids underfoot for two and a half months and everything I have so dutifully cleaned is going to be filthy again in the first 24 hours of it.  So, I decided to go run the errands that have been piling up since...............November 2012.  We had 14 errands to run.  It was made slightly less painful by the fact that the credit union was selling chocolate popcorn for a dollar.  I was going to deposit my check, but instead I bought 589 bags of popcorn.  (JUST KIDDING!  I don't get paid that much, and besides, who can eat that much popcorn?!)  I bought Girl 3 a bag of popcorn and she was actually quiet and pleasant *almost* our entire trip.  Which leads to me to this:

These are "high waisted bathing suit bottoms."  Or, as Girl 3 called them, "Big, huge panties."  Thank you, Girl 3 for ruining what little self esteem I have left.
Yeah.  I bought these today with a top. 

"Oh, good.  I thought you weren't going to wear a top, mom," said Girl 3 in the Target changing room at the top of her lungs after opening the door on me while I was not clothed.  I hope hubby reads this post because I have a feeling he will call them "big, huge panties," too and then I will have to return them.

The end.  Boy Child "graduates" from fifth grade tomorrow with all the pomp and circumstance of The Royal Wedding.  I am hoping I don't cry like a crazy woman at a funeral.  Wish me luck.