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:  www.cancuncd.com  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:  www.factzoo.com.  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:  www.yellowstone.magic.com 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.

There was an error in this gadget