It's either writer's block or menopause. Either way I've gained 10 pounds.

Summer is almost over and I've not written a blog post since June 4.  I will not try to explain this except to say, in a move reminiscent of Janet Jackson at Superbowl VIIXIVITIT, I lost my swimsuit bottoms in a public pool shortly after summer started.  I might have PTSD.

After a long pause in blog production there are some things that are bound to annoy the crap out of readers.

1.  Trying to explain why there has been an extreme pause in writing. 

So, let me attempt to explain the long pause in writing.  I cleaned my copper bottom pans.  Jesus.  My lack of tricep muscles are still sore and I think I found the decomposed remains of Jimmy Hoffa under the black burned stuff that was on my pots.  On the upside - I can now taste my food and I will not be mildly embarrassed if Paula Deen chances by and decides to melt me some butter sprinkled with cheese and then salted (under the guise that she is a reformed diabetic racist).

2.  Trying to explain previous blog topics and why they didn't work. 

So, here are some things I have tried to write about in the past month and then after a rereading - promptly eaten the results (which could explain why I've gained 10 pounds).

a.  How Much I Hate Barbie.  Did you know that along with being an astronaut, physicist, hooker, veterinarian, and entrepreneur, she writes books now?  And (surprise) they read a lot like the genius script from Two Broke Girls.  Because I would never believe it unless I saw it, I've included one of the pages from the book that clearly makes me proud to support public libraries through all my fines.  In case the captions look like they're in Chinese (the book was made in China, after all), I've included the (interpreted) script for you below.



Unnamed character:  Barbie!  Ken's here!  Barbie:  Oh no!  I don't have my brain in yet!  Brunette:  Barbie!  Remember, you don't have a brain!  Barbie:  Oh, yeah!  That's a relief!

  And now I think I should be a published (paid) author.

b.  How Much I Hate Insurance. 

Insurance - n.noun

1. The act, business, or system of screwing.
2. The state of being screwed.
3. A means of being screwed.
4. Coverage by a contract binding a party to indemnify another against specified loss in return for premiums paid unless such premiums go toward a "deductible" in which case the party paying the premiums is screwed out of their premiums and stuck with said specified losses.  (See #1-3.)
5. The sum or rate for which such a contract insures something or not (See #4).
6. The periodic premium paid for this coverage.  "Coverage" being a relative term dependent on the amount of said deductible which is relative and rises in relation to the amount in which the paying party is being screwed.
7. A protective measure.
8. Bullshit.

Term in use:  I f*cking hate insurance.

c.  My inability to cook even with a recipe.

Here is what I made just this morning from a biscuit recipe:

Whatthef*ckisthat?

Y'know how some people have suffered tremendous stress and then go on to like win the Olympics?  Well, I'm kind of like that.  I have suffered the loss of ruining virtually every recipe I've set out to cook and yet I've managed to come out a winner almost every time.

*Eating that idea now.  (And, it's quite delicious I might add.  Score!)*

e.  Like every other female on the planet my hormones are all out of whack.  I think I've narrowed down my afflictions (thank you, WebMD) to either ebola, menopause, a stubbed toe, or a hangnail.  The list of symptoms of menopause is a blog in and of itself (the title of that blog is:  Menopause - Serve Yourself Some More Cake).  I seem to have experienced just a few symptoms (not a comprehensive list) in the time I've had writer's block:  fatigue, depression, hot flashes, mood swings, sudden tears, inability to articulate or write, inability to cook or do laundry, sudden bouts of bloat (although apparently not enough to make the elastic in my swimsuit bottoms hold), gastrointestinal distress (could be related to my cooking?), disturbing memory loss, increased tension in the muscles, and tinnitus (could be due to my kids not being in school?).

3.  Trying to describe how much you have missed your readers.

If it weren't for virtual friends, I'd have no friends at all and I know you guys have all been reading everyone else's superior blogs and having a party without me.  What can I say?  It hurts.

So, I will not try to tell you why I've been gone, what I've been doing instead of blogging, what topics have just not worked, or how much I've missed you guys.  As some guy once said in AA, "Today I am not enjoying life as it occurs.  Today I am blogging about it instead.  I'm not sure when I will do this again and I will not make any promises.  But today I hope you guys will join me."  (Or something like that.)

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.

Anyway.

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:

Why?

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.

You dropped a bomb on me, baby.

It's that time again.  Pre-Mother's Day Days wherein you discreetly drop hints about what you want like the dog discreetly drops fart bombs while he's presumably watching TV.

I'm making it easy this year and buying all my presents early.  Then I am going to wrap them in my favorite wrapping paper (probably the comics), put big Christmas bows on them and make tags that say, "To the best mom in the whole world.  We love you!"  Also, I might misspell some words just to add to the authenticity.

Here's what I'm getting so far:

1.  A good sports bra/s.  Now, I have needed some new sports bras for a while (sorry if that's TMI), but one recent incident spurred me into action.  A friend of mine was on TV while running.  Yes, you read that correctly.  TV news cameras filmed her while she was running - pushing her three? kids in a STROLLER (yeah, she's kind of like superwoman).  And, the next day instead of basking in the glory of her 15 seconds of fame her comment to a few of us was, "Man, I need a better sports bra."  I laughed pretty hard at that, but then I got serious and kind of freaked out.  What if I am filmed sometime soon running???  What would it be like???  It would be like (or, would have been like, since I've already started using my new bras - you're welcome) the song, "Do your ears hang low?"  Not pretty.

2.  A purse.  I think I've gotten a purse every Mother's Day since I became a mother.  That would add up to 11 purses if I bought the $400 kind, but since I don't it adds up to one purse.  But, it's cute:



www.squidoo.com  I don't think that's the one I actually got, but close enough and I'm too lazy to go take a photo of mine.

3.  I am getting a trip.  Yes, you read that correctly.  I am going on a trip.  By myself.  Without children. 

"Aw," you ask, "How is that for Mother's Day?" 

I know.  It's like when you secretly wish that for Mother's Day you could spend the day completely alone, right?  Who does that???  (Probably some evil people.  I've certainly never thought that.)  Okay.  So, my trip really isn't for Mother's Day, but kinda.  My niece over at Fit Foodies. Healthy Life. is tying the knot at this gorgeous place. 

Scroll through till you see the gal in the tub.  That's gonna be me.  Don't worry - I won't photograph myself....well, I might.  But, I won't post about it....unless I do.  I'll warn you first, though, so you can get ready to poke your eyes out with sharp sticks. 

Hubby gets to stay home with our four kids.  (WHEEEEE!  He's excited.)  I was careful to tell him, "It's okay, babe.  It's a round trip ticket."

4.  Another bathing suit.  So, remember last year?  When I almost proposed to the bathing suit saleswoman after she saw me naked?  Well, funny thing.  She gave me a little confidence in the area of shopping for bathing suits.  Possibly a little too much because now I really want one of these suits with "high waisted knickers." 


Apparently confidence when gotten at the hands of a blunt bathing suit saleswoman is dangerous.

Don't worry.  I'm waiting on this Mother's Day gift because 1.  I still have my winter weight and may keep it on through the summer, and 2.  These suits are not ruched in the bust, nor slimming in the waist, so I clearly would not be following her suit advice to me.

5.  Popcornopolis.  This may be a gateway drug, you guys.  Oh my GAWD.  My family and I are popcorn junkies.  If popcorn was illegal, we would all live in the pokey.  Now, I must confess, I've pretty much eaten all of this present, so the chance that it actually gets wrapped and given to me is slim to none (unlike my waistline after consuming it).  I am a bit of a popcorn snob if I've never told you guys.  I abhor microwave popcorn.  I only eat homemade or gourmet.  Recently we got a huge tin of this stuff which I thought was pretty great stuff.  But, I gotta tell you guys, Popcornopolis is DELICIOUS and way better.  I am deeply in love.  AND, I was researching important stuff on Pinterest last night and I found out there is an actual store in Austin.  So, since I already ate all of my present I told hubby and the kids that they are gonna take me there for Mother's Day!  (I know they're excited.)

That's it for now.  I'm sure I'll think of some more stuff I can't live without.  (Depending on their budget maybe a boob job to go with my new bras is in order?)  Happy Pre-Mother's Day Days!