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.

I'd like to thank my mom and God...oh, wait....

Someone thinks I'm "interesting" y'all!  Wheeeeee! 

I'm arousing?  Excuse me while I take my clothes off and roll around in some Vaseline.  Wait, no I'm absorbing.  Like Bounty!

1.  Thank you Weezafish for this loverly award!  I love you and I think it's high time I told you that every time I type your name I am singing this in my head: 

Please go check her out, you guys because in addition to her ear-worm name, she has a delightful accent, a truly interesting background, and she moonlight writes for a bunch of people including a matchmaking place because she's sexy like that. 

2.  Five random facts about me (because it's all about me):

• I saw Barry Manilow in concert because I wanted to.
• I want to stab myself a little every time my boy child starts a story with, "Mom, y'know on Minecraft where......"
• My last Google search:  The Millionaire Matchmaker.  I tried to tie that into Weeza somehow, but I've clearly not had enough coffee.
• In my TV life, I have a thing for stabby, ex-addict detectives who are trying to make it right.
• I've never kept a plant alive for more than one week.  I've done considerably better with my children.

3.  I nominate these people for the Interesting Blog award (it was hard for me to pick partly because I read too many blogs than I should, and partly because many of the people I read have a $hit ton of awards):

• WHATIMEANT2SAY - add this to your shelf - yeah, you guys, she's pretty famous
• averageinsuburbia - so happy she came back to the blogosphere (she's pretty famous, too)
• And this gal who I just found and I think she's pretty interesting (and she's probably written a book or something, but maybe she'll put this award on her shelf, too)

My five questions for you three (here's where it gets confusing and hairy - try to pay attention):

• Have you ever had a hernia?
• Scorpion bite or brown recluse bite?
• Scorpion song or Justin Bieber song?
• If you could put two pop star singers together to make a hit record (that, frankly, just frightens everyone), who would it be?
• If you don't know the answers to any of the above, what do you know?

My answers to Weeza (CHEESUS - when does it end???  I just want this blog post to end???  If that's what you are saying, remember):

1.  When did you start Blogging and why?  I started blogging while nursing my third child.  Literally.  I needed something to do with my hands.

2. What treat or pamper could you just not do without?  A shower.  At least every other day.

3. Which tune would, without question, have you leaping to your feet and strutting to the dancefloor?

Um, yeah.  I don't dance.  But, this makes me chair dance a little (similar, but not the same as lap dance).

 

 

4.Imagine; You have an entire weekend free, nothing on your To Do List, millions in the bank and only yourself to please. What do you do?  Um.  Read blogs?

5. Where did you put your keys?!  Right next to hubby's so that we'll be able to find his quickly later.  (You're welcome.)

 

4.  Conditions and rules, you guys.  (Just pretend I'm giving you a new car, but you have to pay the taxes on it still, okay?  Only, you can't really drive this award, and it probably doesn't have that new car smell.)

• Claim your prize and display it on your shelf or if your shelf is too crowded, just put it in your closet and then when you are de-cluttering in a few years you can give it to Goodwill.  It will one day end up being someone's ashtray.  And, send me a thank you with five dollars.......oh, wait............that wasn't part of it?
• Tell us five tantalizing facts about yourself.
• Nominate three more unsuspecting yet well-deserving people.
• Ask them five questions.
• Tell them they won and give them the terms and conditions.  Ask them for ten dollars and send me five of those.

Whew!  Done.  It's just like they say, you guys.  Being famous is hard work.

 

Bad things happen in 3's...or 13's...or 33's. But who's counting?

So, you might have known that back in January while hubby was out of town with work, our microwave (that we'd had for about 11 years) broke. 

That was the beginning of the end.

For about one day after it broke, I felt just like a pilgrim while I actually cooked everything.  On the stove.  (Pilgrims had stoves, right?) 

Then after much furious texting between hubby and I (while he was in some "important" meetings) about how much microwaves cost "nowadays," I texted hubby from Lowe's:  Babe, the cheapest microwave is $120.00 and it looks like it would hold one bag of single serve popcorn.  I *think* it belongs in a hotel.  A hotel where only one person will be staying.

About 15 minutes and $260 later, I walked out with a sleek, stainless steel, working microwave that can *almost* hold a 9 x 13 pan.  Damn my faulty measuring.

That's when it all went down the crapper.

The complete list of everything in our house that has broken since the 11 year old microwave died in January:

1.  The air conditioner.
2.  The water heater.
3.  My trusty, dependable 20 year old hair dryer.
4.  The puppy.
5.  The garbage disposal.  Seriously?  Whose garbage disposal up and breaks???  I swear I didn't even put a fork in it.
6.  The cheese drawer on the ancient (white) fridge.  Firstly, who still has a white fridge?  Secondly, I know this isn't a real "break," but damn it if it isn't annoying to not be able to close that drawer properly.
7.  The Keurig.  (Thankfully hubby was able to fix that before I had to even miss one cup of coffee.  Thank you, hubby for not making me kill anyone.)

And, today I came back from my run to this:

Hubby:  The TV broke while you were gone.

$%&*#%  $%&*%$ is what I said.

Seriously?  I feel like I want to bury a saint in my front yard or go to a curandero, or have my house blessed.  Again.  Cheesus, Mary, and Joseph.  Someone cut me a break.

Photo courtesy:  forums: redflagdeals.com  I bet you didn't even know people still had TVs like this.  We do and now ours is broken.  If you hear screaming it's us being dragged into this century by force.

I *might* be a hoarder.

You guys, if you haven't been following, I just got back from this amazing place for my niece's wedding.  It was absolutely beautiful and surreal. 

Being home is bittersweet.  On the one hand, I missed my rotten kids a lot.  And, of course, I really wished we could have made it work for me and hubby to go - and because of that I missed him a lot.  But, on the other hand, I really wish I could go live at this resort, be independently wealthy, eat yummy food that I don't have to cook, and have someone clean up after me and organize my $hit.

So, I was a bit overwhelmed yesterday when I got back to my tiny house with five other people, my disorganized piece of chaos, my pile of work, and the state of my life.

Of course, there is always a funny side, right?  Here it is:  Last night in my mildly depressed, exhausted, and sick state I made a crazy goal for myself.  (Hubby probably thought, "You're gonna get a real job?"  Um, no.) 

I am going to attempt to clean and re-organize my entire house - one room or area at a time. 

If you know me and my house personally, you know that ironically this is far more difficult than actually "getting a real job."

I have a house cleaner (who I would like to marry someday), but I'm talking about all the jobs she doesn't do.

Today I did our tiny bathroom.

Here's the state of the union.

1.  I found 14 tubes of toothpaste, 17 razors, enough hotel shampoo and conditioner for a small country in Africa, 15 large safety pins (damn them), enough Clinique make-up to take me well into my 80's, and the travel bottle of cologne I was desperately searching for right before I went to the wedding.

2.  I am so emotionally strained and physically exhausted right now I think this should be my real job.

3.  I'm wondering if it might be easier to just put the house up for sale.  As is.

So, it's kinda good to be back?  The jury's still out on that.  If I don't post again for a long time it's because A&E has contacted me and I'm in filming.

How to Approach Your "Baby" Going to Middle School With Sanity and Clarity

1.  Allow your pessimistic nature to completely overshadow any vestige of optimism about the future of your middle schooler that you could have managed.

2.  Read and listen to any article or news program about the prevalence of bullying in middle school in all countries of the world and possibly the moon and other universes.

3.  Second guess every decision you have ever made with said child all the way back to the decision for no epidural....and possibly your choice of a father (just kidding, hubby....that was only after I had exhausted all other things to worry about....oh, and after a few beverages).

4.  Encourage and then finally nag your hubby until he is forced to have "the talk" with your soon-to-be-middle-school boy so that hubby is so nervous that his awkward conversation about growing up elicits a look from your son that looks something like this:

photo courtesy:  cdn.sheknows.com

 and you are still not exactly sure if your son knows How Babies Are Born.

5.  Question the years you have invested in piano lessons.  Should you have opted for krav maga lessons instead?

6.  Begin to treat your soon-to-be-middle-schooler like a two year old and attempt to do things that he hasn't let you do in years:  tuck him in, read him books, kiss his cheek.

7.  And, in a reverse of opinion to #6 worry obsessively about all the things he still doesn't know and attempt to teach him a little about all these things in the few short weeks left of fifth grade.  (How to cook, How to launder, How to make a bed properly, How to treat girls, How to find a wife, How to drive, How to say no to drugs, How to do karate, etc.)  (And, by the way, this will again elicit The Look pictured in #4.)

8.  Write about all your fears on the Internet so that good friends, loyal readers, and random strangers can console you and tell you everything will be just fine.  (Except if it isn't.)

This was guest posted over at one of my favorite blogs This is Mommyhood.  Thank you, Elle.  xoxo!

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!

Did my family buy a zoo?

So, it's been awhile since I've posted.  It's mainly because I've been depressed, eating too much while trying to lose weight, working, and trying to keep up with my kids.  But, this morning on my run I composed a post about social awkwardness (of course) that I thought was good and I planned on writing it today after I got home from work.

Then, I got home from my run, glanced over at the side of my house and this was there:

That's TRASH that was inside the can last night.  Damnit.

If you live nearby, you might have heard the obscenities I screamed.

We have a dog now (God love us) and so the trash can really smells like $hit.  So, a few weeks ago (after nagging Boy Child for about a week) I took it upon myself to clean the trash can.  (And I think you know how I feel about this - it's right there with cleaning the vacuum.  These tasks just make me go, "What the WHAT?") 

So, of course, the fu*cking raccoons came back.  They were waiting for me to do this. They smelled a clean trash can with food trash in it and they went nuts.

Oh, and just in case you were wondering - my brushes with wildlife this past week have included this guy

Yeah.  That's a coral snake that Girl 1 found hanging out.  He's dead now.

and this gal.

That's a peahen (female peacock...duh).  (I always have called them female peacocks because I am a dork.)

Am I Dr. Dolittle?  Because it kinda feels like it.