I love being right!

Yesterday was an odd weather day. Stranger than the weather was J.'s response to it. He had decided on Friday that on Sunday we were going to take the kids ice skating on Sunday. We were going to the outside rink and have a Norman Rockwellian experience. He seems to forget who his family is.

I have been ice skating three times in my life. None were very good experiences. The first time I was about five. Santa was there. He skated to center ice and gave out candy to all the little children, except for the sad little girl stuck on the wall. So sad. I digress.... anyhow, yesterday about noon I say to my husband, "Maybe today is not the best day to go skating, it's raining." Well, you would have thought that I said, "WE ARE NEVER GOING ANYWHERE EVER AGAIN BECAUSE I AM A MEAN AND EVIL PERSON WHO DOES NOT BELIEVE IN FUN OF ANY KIND!!!"

He gave me a lecture on how I was so negative and don't like to try anything new and this negativity would wear off on the kids and blah, blah, blah. My head is spinning. I just thought that maybe going ice skating OUTSIDE when it is raining wearing STEEL blades might not be the best choice.

FINE!!! WE'LL GO!!! I get everyone ready and we head out to the car. I am doing my best to be a good sport. He is telling the kids how much fun we are getting ready to have. He is really building it up. As we enter the park, the first rain drops begin to fall. I don't say anything. C. mention to his father that it is starting to rain. "That's okay buddy, when Dad was a little boy I always skated in the rain." He also went pool hopping, has been arrested, got hit in the head by his brother with a hammer. I do not believe that all things that Daddy has done are worth replicating.

Then.... BAM... just as we pull into the parking place the skies open up and the rain comes down. See, even God wants me to be right. Still, J. cannot give up. He gets out his Blackberry and checks the weather. He shows me how this line of storms is moving fast and if we just wait a few minutes we'll be fine. Still the rain comes down. Finally after twenty minutes he gives up. He tells his children that there will be no fun today. I cannot contain my smirk.

I have taught my children a valuable lesson....Mommy is always right.

Football Mania

I think that sometimes I want to question my choices in life. The King of Useless Projects was at it again. We have three televisions in our home. Only one WAS connected to Direct TV. That means that while the others were not able to connect to many stations, they were accessible.

Where there are useless projects to be done...have no fear J. will be there!! He believes that it is important that all three television be connected to Direct TV. You may be asking yourself, Shannon, why is this a bad thing? Well, all three televisions have to be on the same station. Which means that when at 6:30 Saturday night when J. decided that he wanted to watch a football game, I could not watch anything else. I could however watch the football game on my choice of three televisions.

He didn't understand why I was aggravated.

Touching

I went to Early American Day at A's school yesterday. As usual, I was ignored by most of the mother's, which was just fine by me. However, there was something in the air that I could not put my finger on. I seemed to be very touchable to some people. I do not believe that I give off that feeling. I believe that I probably encourage people to stay away. That's my intent anyway.

At three different times someone, a virtual stranger, put their hands on me. A's first grade teacher rubbed my back while she was talking to me. Not like a massage, but the way you rub your kid's back. Then two different women put their hand on my arm while they were talking to me. I was taken totally off guard. How do you politely tell a perfect stranger if they want to keep their hands they had better keep them off me?

What not to wear...

The outfit I had on today. I don't know where in my eyes it looked nice. It didn't. I was that woman in the bad outfit, trying to look good but just missing it. I got dressed today and left the house and I resembled a walking poo stick. Brown on brown on brown is not always a good choice.

Just call me "Cookie"

Have you ever had one of those days when you can't pull your head out of your ass? I had that one today. I received a phone call from one of GMs today. I was walking into class and had the misfortune of answering the phone, thinking it was C.'s school.

"Shannon, this Mary. I need to ask you a favor."
(CRAP CRAP CRAP)
"What can I do for you?"
"We need someone to be the cookie manager for the brownie cookie sale and I was hoping that you could volunteer."
(THINK FAST THINK FAST NOOOOOOOOOO!)
"Well, ummmmmm, I don't think I can with my schedule for next semester."
(Working mom has got to get me somewhere.)
"Well, Shannon, everyone is busy and I didn't want to ask some of the other mothers because they already do so much at the school."
(SHE'S SLAMMING MY NON VOLUNTEERISM!! I AM DOING EARLY AMERICAN DAY!!)
"Well, ummmmmmmm, if you can find someone to help me I guess I can do it even though...."
"GREAT!! There's a meeting next week. Have a good day!"
SHE FREAKING HUNG UP!!!

After some contemplation I decided to take matters into my own hands and called a mother that I can stand and told her if she didn't help me that I would find incriminating information and black mail her. Reluctantly she agreed.

So, I am the cookie lady. I fear that this may be the lowest I have sunk.

"Motivationally Challenged"

So, I just got back from C's parent teacher conference. I heard something new today. My son is "motivationally challenged". I looked at the teacher and said, "So, he's lazy." She didn't want to offend me. So I assured her that I am fully aware that my son is lazy. I provided her with the most recent indicator I had of his condition.

On Halloween, my son, daughter and husband went out trick or treating. After about 15 minutes they came back. C. was done. He did tell his sister that she needed to go back out and get him so good candy. He then took off his costume, laid on the couch and watched TV. He's my kid.

If you think I'm sexy

You would be wrong. J. and I went to a Halloween party this weekend. It was hosted and attended by parents from A.'s school. The theme was movie themes or celebrities. J. and I racked our brains for weeks trying to come up with the perfect costumes.

For some reason, adult women believe that Halloween is the one time of the year that it is okay to dress like their inner slut. Unfortunately for me and J., I have no inner slut. We arrived at the party to find Supergirl in a mini skirt and shiny knee high boots, one of the vixens from the Austin Powers movie, a buxom Pamela Anderson, a pregnant Britney Spears in a short skirt and even Marge Simpson in a strapless dress. I arrived wearing a potato sack.

J. and I decided to go as characters from Monty Python's Holy Grail. He was the Black Knight and I was King Arthur. J. even had some sex appeal. When wearing the black mask, he looked like a one armed dominatrix. I carried a white bunny. There was one other woman dressed as a man. She was the police officer to her husband's Larry Craig. However, even she looked like a feminine cop. I was wearing a potato sack. Did I mention that the potato sack also stunk? At one point, someone sniffed my costume.

(Getting the bunny was a feat in itself. A. wouldn't let me borrow it. I tried to guilt her but it was a no go. When I went to get the babysitter, J. put the kids to bed. I waited until she was asleep, snuck in and stole it. Sad.)

We had fun at the party. Everyone thought I was Joan of Arc. Once I explained who I was I got to listen to every quote from the movie. There was a creepy man in a spandex Spiderman costume. He was about 4 foot tall and followed me around all evening quoting the movie. Weird.

Finally, at the end of the evening, it was time to call it a night. There was definitely going to be fantasy sex happening at various homes. Husbands were filling their wives' drinks at a frightening rate. J. and I went to Del Taco for chili cheese fries.

Here's What You Do

A. is having some issues at school with a "mean girl". This little girl who I will refer to from now on as "Heather". Well, Heather has been picking on my little girl. So, we've been having conversations about bullying and how to stick up for yourself. I called my mom to help because my first inclination is to tell A. to punch her in the throat. That way, you get it out in first grade and no one messes with you for the next 7 years. I mean she gets suspended for what, three days. No biggie.

Well, I know that my mom will probably have more constructive advice. I talked to J. about it. He doesn't understand "girl world" or "woman world". He thinks I need to call the mom and tell her that her daughter is a shit. Can't do that. I suggested that he call the dad and take care of it in "man" words.

All this time I never thought to talk to C. about it. He sat quietly and didn't give his input until last night. He turned to his sister and said, "Listen, this is what you do. If she is being mean to you, you look her in the face, yell PAAAAAAAAAA and turn your whole body."

Who knew it was that simple?

Tantrum from Hell

C. was really angry last night. He threw himself on the floor and was yelling at the top of his lungs. That, of course, is nothing new. However his tantrum was a little different this time.

C: I am mad at you Mom.
Me: Okay.
C: I hate you Mom.
Me: Okay.
C: (Getting more angry) I hate GOD!!
Me: Okay.
C: I HATE JESUS!!
Me: Okay.

I did not correct him. That's between a boy and his maker. I got no dog in that fight.

Hugs not Drugs

A. can read. This is starting to pose an issue for me. Driving home last evening we passed a DARE poster.
(wait for it, wait for it....thanks Dee for that precise description of what the process of a child thinking feels like)

A: Mommy, what are drugs?
Me: (pretending not to hear her to buy some more time)
A: Mommy, what are drugs?
Me: Well, they are things that people use and it makes them do bad things.
A: What kind of bad things?
Me: Ummmm (wishing a Shrek song would come on for a distraction)
Sometimes when people use drugs they steal and lie and hurt people.
A: Is there a store where people buy drugs?
Me: (how do I explain the whole "dealer" concept to a seven year old) No, honey, someone has to go to a person called a dealer. That very bad person sells them drugs. (remembering that her father used to sell pot in college)
A: What do drugs look like?
Me: They can be a pill or a powder or something that looks like a cigarette. (geez girl give your momma a break)
A: Why do drugs make people do bad things?
Me: Well, drugs make your brain think differently and so some people will do bad things. IT IS AGAINST THE LAW TO TAKE DRUGS! YOU WILL GO TO JAIL!!! (want to get that out so C. hears its)
C. then interjects: I won't take drugs because it will make my brain not be a circle anymore.
Me: ummm, okay.
C: Master Splinter (from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) blah, blah blah blah Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles blah blah blah (he may already be on drugs)
A: Can kids go to jail?
Me: (now I gotta explain the whole concept of juvenile detention) Yes, it is called juvenile hall.
A & C: (in unison) juvenile hall?
Me: (this is getting out of control) Yes, juvenile hall.
Me: If someone ever tries to give you drugs you just say no and then tell an adult.
A: What if someone throws drugs at me and I get powder all over me? Will I go to jail?
ME: Well, no one will throw drugs on you. (they cost too much)

Then as if God was looking down on me and decided that I suffered enough A. got a new thought:

A: Mom, can I wear my costume when we get home?

Sooooo, I may be fat

The weather is changing and it is time to break out last the jeans from last year. WELP, I got fat. I know that I have gained weight. I, however, have been able to keep myself from the true reality by wearing skirts this summer.

Truth punched me in the throat yesterday in the form of jeans that used to fit. I went through the list of reasons why they didn't fit:
1. I'm bloated (I don't know if you actually gain water weight in your thighs)
2. The jeans shrunk. (Little known fact that jeans in a drawer constrict)
3. I always hated those jeans anyway and was going to throw them out.

So, I headed out to buy some new jeans. I don't like to spend more than I have to on jeans, yet I am in a constant search for that perfect pair that I had 10 years ago. (mind you I was a size 4 and everything fit perfectly) Well, I happened on to some very expensive designer jeans at my favorite discount store. I picked them off the rack and went to try them on.

I get into the dressing room and catch a glimpse of my body. BLECHHHH!!! Something about the wraparound mirrors and the dressing room light caused my thighs to look like marsh mellows. BLECHHH! Anyway, I pull the jeans up. I didn't realize that the rise of the jeans was about 2cm long. They were little more than legs with a crotch. I turned to see that my ass crack was accompanied by my whole ass hanging out of the top of the jeans.

I handed the jeans back and went to look for something else. I found another pair with more fabric. I hoisted them onto my arse. They were tight but I could get them buttoned. I turned to the view from the back. ARGHHHH!! I had the butt pinch that turns into the butt wink when you walk. Too old, can't do it. I have not given up yet. I go up not one but TWO sizes. Then I realize, I am tooo vain to do this.

I go to another store and another store and another store. NOTHING FITS!! Defeated, I return home. I get online and look at LL Bean. They have mom jeans.

Life Lessons Learned

A. had her birthday party today. Here are some lessons I have learned:

1. 30 kids are 29 too many.
2. Bossy women should be smacked.
3. I'm too old.
4. Early childhood teachers are insane.
5. Boys bring a WHOLE new level to chaos.
6. Red headed children really are the devil's spawn.
7. I will never do this again.
8. My kid isn't really so bad.
9. Men are as much help as kids.
10. I will never do this again.

We foolishly invited the whole first grade to A.'s party. I planned it with another mother. She is a bitch. She barked at me TWICE!! You all will be happy to know that I kept my Good Mommy face on and didn't smack her.

Did I say that I will never do this again?

A little ditty...

Here's a little ditty that my very talented son sang to me as he was getting undressed and ready for bed. I won't do it justice but it goes a little something like this....

I like to pee, pee, pee
I like to pee in the toilet.

I like to poop, poop, poop
I like to poop in the toilet.

I like to fart, fart, fart
I like to fart on Mommy.

I like to diarrhea, diarrhea, diarrhea
I like to diarrhea in the toilet.

(this is to the tune of "I like to eat, eat, eat apples and bananas" and he is naked.)

Anatomy of a Bad Day

5:00 AM: You are pulled from a deep sleep by a four year old in wet pajamas.
5:15 AM: You are doing a load of laundry because he just peed in the only set of clean sheets.
5:30 AM: You are encouraging, pleading, threatening that four year old to go back to sleep
5:35 AM: You give up and tell him that as long as he plays quietly he can play in the playroom.
5:35-6:35: You hear various crashing noises, but believe if you ignore it, the noise will stop.
6:35: Your idiot brother calls. He forgets about the hour time difference. He forgot to get a gift for your daughter. He'll send you a check. You know that pigs will crap on you from heaven before that happens.

6:40AM: You go downstairs to make coffee. You hear your six year old and four year old fighting.
6:45AM: You question child abuse laws.
7:00AM: You see your children attempting to kill a bug as they throw themselves against walls and into tables and crashing on to toys.
7:15AM: You go back downstairs and wonder if it is too late to consider adoption.


9:00AM You get everyone to school. You arrive at your place of business and recognize that the pits on your new shirt are very visible and that if you lift up your arm, your class will be able to see your underwear and stretchmarks. You realize for the rest of the day you will be walking like robot.

9:15AM: You realize that you never printed out the quiz you were going to hand out.
9:30 AM: You wing it and have to write the questions on the board. Unfortunately you have the 9:00 problem, so you can only write half way down the board and everyone is complaining that they can't see the questions.

11:30: cell phone vibrates on the podium. You don't recognize the number so you ignore it.
12:15: You retrieve your messages to find out that your four year old had an allergic reaction and that the school has been calling all over town looking for a parent. (Good mother award) By the time you reach the school, they have given him Benadryl and he's passed out on the couch in the director's office. You ask if you can pick him up after your last class.
12:30: You realize it was picture day today and that although he made it to school with no marks on his face, that he had his picture taken in the middle of an allergic reaction. (His photo album is going to be an interesting story of injury and illness)

2:00: You burn yourself with a cigarette that you are not supposed to be smoking.
4:30: You fight with your six year old about homework. Again you contemplate child abuse laws.

8:00: You settle down to watch TV and unwind only to find that your significant other beat you to it and is watching a documentary on WWII. He is only willing to change it for the baseball game.

8:53: You decide that this day has sucked and you go to bed.

Random thoughts

1. I have a Master's Degree but could not work at Sonic because I can't make change in my head.
2. I smell worse than my dog (and you know he STANKS) after working out.
3. It makes no sense to put on deodorant before working out.
4. Sonic tastes SOOOOO yummy. Cherry Limeaids.......
5. I can waste time like nobody else.
6. naps are good.
7. Sonic is good for the soul.

FREE BALLIN

C. forgot to put on underpants (sorry Kate) yesterday. I noticed this when I saw his pj's with his underwear still in them. Luckily it's hot and he was wearing shorts and his Batman costume.

He's my kid...

C. started full day pre-school this week. He wore his Batman costume every day. On Wednesday, I asked the teacher how he was doing. She let me know that he walked into a pole that morning and in the afternoon, he informed her that he was not interested in participating in the group activities and that he was going to go take a nap. He slept for an hour.

You know your child....

is a dork when they start becoming obsessed with Star Wars. A. has moved from O-D-D to
D-O-R-K in the course of three weeks. She wants to be an OLD MAN STAR WARS character for Halloween. She plays Star Wars at recess with her two dork friends (the boy with the lazy eye who only plays with the girls and the fat girl). I want her to be friends with everyone but COME ON!!!

You all remember those kids. They brought their Star Wars figures to school and played separated from everyone. THEY WERE FREAKSHOWS!! I was discussing my plight with another mother who said," Oh, I think it's cute." I asked her,"Is it cute because it is my kid and not yours?" She didn't know what to say. Everyone from my generation know what happens to the kids who obsess over Star Wars. Fast forward ten years and we are talking Dungeons and Dragons. Fast forward another five years and she has changed her name to Eden and is on tour with the Renaissance Festival dressed as a wench.

Maybe the lesbian jock crowd was not such a bad idea.

Imagine if you will...

a turtle on its back. That is what I resembled this week after my work out. My daughter had to help me get up because I was stuck. With every movement I wanted to punch someone in the head.

Luckily the day after the torture session I had to teach. I park nine miles (ok, not really but it sure felt that way) from the school. College students get VERY IMPATIENT with slow moving people. They were all up on me! I had to say BACK IT UP I AM MOVING AS FAST AS I CAN!! I CURSE YOU WITH OLD AGE!!! Okay, so I didn't say that but I thought it. I also thought about stopping suddenly and having one of these wisenheimers trip over themselves trying to avoid running into the old fat lady.

I took the elevator one flight. Every muscle in my body was spassing, which made me kind of look like the Scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz. All of my exercisy kind of friends tell me that this is great that I am sore, I just have to power through it, I'm going to be so happy that I did this, BLAH BLAH BLAH. They are stupid.

OH TO THE GOOD LORD ABOVE AND GLORY BE

I went to my first Body Conditioning Anti Jiggle class today. Lord have MERCY!!! Is it a bad sign if you are sore before the class is over. I'm afraid to sit for too long as I may not be able to get up. I honestly don't know why the instructors don't wear dominatrix outfits.

Speaking of my instructor, Wendy or Tammy or Sunshine or Stupid Fucking woman, WHATEVER, she annoys me already. I can handle the rainbow and unicorn instructors, it's the "you are beautiful", "you are doing this for you" pieces of crap that I want to smash in the head with my hand weight. If I were beautiful I WOULD NOT BE HERE!!! I AM FAT! I AM NOT DOING THIS FOR ME! IF I WERE DOING SOMETHING FOR ME I'D BE AT A BAR GETTING DRUNK AND SMOKING A PACK OF CIGARETTES!

Whew...I feel better. There are also A LOT of annoying women who talk through the whole thing. SHUT THE HELL UP! It's coming folks, I'm going to snap.

Finally, for the laugh of the day, we were using exercise balls. We were supposed to slide out on bellies. Well, I might have slid a little fast and slid right over the ball and on to my face....

I AM, I AM, I AM SUPERMAN

Good AM!! It's been awhile since I blogged and this time it is not my fault. The site was acting crazy and wouldn't let me on.

Anyway, SCHOOL HAS STARTED!!! (insert image of me doing the running man, switching to the cabbage patch and on over to the prep) WHOO HOOO!! I never thought I would make it. J. took C. to school yesterday. C. insisted on wearing his Batman cape. J. tried to reason with him. I thought J. would be happy that it was the Batman costume.

For the past couple of weeks, C. has been wearing a Robin costume. He wanted a Robin movie. In the middle of Blockbuster I was trying to explain to him why there were no Robin movies. Robin is Batman's bitch. How do you explain that to a four year old?

Finally J. was able to talk him into the Superman costume. Guys are funny about that stuff. I just told J. that C. was actually pretty smart being Robin...management sucks.

Men's fashion

I saw a man this AM. He was wearing red skin tight cropped overalls, with one strap down, Marky Mark style. I'm not sure where the rest of his funky bunch was, but this is a look that I think J. could really pull off....

Hating people II: Electric Bugaloo

So anyhow, these bitches are standing on top of me, truly ignoring me. They start talking about how you can't give money to poor people without telling them what to do with it and how if the guys who play in the NFL weren't football players they would be in jail. Do you think they were talking about Peyton Manning? Don't think so. I could not believe the stupidity that was spewing from their lips. I tapped one of them on the shoulder and said, "What Would Jesus Do if HE could hear you saying these things....shame on you."

Okay we all know I just walked away, rolled my eyes and made fun of them in my head. My Polly Pocket mom wasn't there to distract me. So they continued with their senseless banter by complaining about the other parents who were killing the environment by sitting in their cars running the air conditioning. These are the same women who will WALK down to their Lincoln Navigators and Cadillac Escalades five minutes later.

The bumper sticker says...Hate is not a family value...it is in my family!

If I were a bat would I want to live here?

No, probably not. You get squashed with a tennis racket.

So here's what happened and then I'll continue my rave about people I hate:
As you know I am sitting at the computer blogging when A. comes flying up the stairs, screaming that there is a bat in the basement.

I run over and slam the basement door. I hear it screeching. I grab the kids, run upstairs into my bedroom, slam the door and lock it. (Bats are notorious for maneuvering door knobs) I call J. who does not give me the sympathy I need. He has to call me back. He can't deal with this right now. FINE!!!! I can handle this. I can be the grown up in this scenario.

I gather some towels to cover the bottom of the door. I kiss my children and tell them I will return and to stay here where it is safe. I tiptoe downstairs. I run and lock the basement door (you would hate for him to sneak up on you because you didn't lock the door...I've seen horror movies) and throw the towels under the door. I race upstairs, grab the kids and get out of the house.

J. calls a couple hours later, harummphing because he has to get this bat. He is acting as though I had forgotten and left the bat gate open and one got in. I DIDN'T DO THIS!!!! He doesn't even understand the danger his son and I were in. We napped on the couches this afternoon with a bat in the house. He could have eaten our faces off while we slept. Does J. seem concerned, NO!!! I hung up on him.

About twenty minutes later he calls again to let me know that it is safe to come home. He has disposed of the intruder. He apologizes for his bad mood. I can forgive.

So we get home, kids are taking a bath. C. is getting dressed. I say to him," Did you fart or is your breath stinky?" He puts his butt in my face and says, "I don't know, how does it smell?"

I had forgotten...

How much I HATE those stupid women at A.'s school. I walked up to the pick up spot today and was instantly surrounded by the "look a like" moms. They were not surrounding me, per se, I just happened to be in the shade, where they were interested in standing. Of course, it would be beneath them to say excuse me, so instead they simply stood in my personal space. With their backs to me, of course.

They all look the same. They have the same "work out" outfit on, the same stylish sunglasses, the same golden retriever and the same shade of blonde hair. I honestly cannot tell them apart.

OH MY GOD !!! THERE"S A BAT IN THE BASEMENT >>>>>GOTTA GO!

I HATE PEOPLE!

Man, I hate people. I just ran to the mall with C. He's got a bug in his biscuits about something. Anyhoo, he jelly legs me and starts throwing a fit. I pick him up under my arm so he can't kick me and carry him out. On the way out, I overhear an older woman saying to her husband, "I HATE WHEN PEOPLE DON"T DISCIPLINE THEIR KIDS!"

What the hell did she want me to do? Throw him on the ground, snatch off my belt and whip his biscuits right there? I was good and kept walking.

All the way home, C. is telling me that he is going to hurt my feelings and hurt everyone in the world's feelings. He storms upstairs and tells me that I can't come in. SOUNDS FRIGGIN AWESOME TO ME!!!

LORD HAVE MERCY!!

It was brought to my attention that I have not written in over a month. So here I am. A lot of nothing has happened since July 15th.

Quick rundown:
1. Was singled out by a fruit sniffing dog in Mexico.
2. Gained 10 pounds that is not coming off.
3. Joined an on-line weight loss group through my GH message board.
4. Found out my son pooped on a public sidewalk.
5. Realized my father is NOT a good companion on road trips.
6. I do not like Traveling J.
7. If I don't talk to my friends in a month, go to book club and drink too much I get diarrhea of the mouth. (Sorry bout that ladies)
8. I can waste a lot of time doing nothing productive.
9. I am addicted to my GH message board.
10. I have two more weeks til summer is officially over!!!

I am back to school and have 80 students this semester. It's going to be a lot of work. ( Nothing positive is coming next.) It's just going to be a lot of work.

I have lost my mind

I just spent an hour playing truth or dare on the General Hospital message board. I think I am going insane!

I am sorry

For my friends who check in with me on a regular basis that I have not posted lately. I am in a funk. Nothing good, nothing bad going on. Maybe after vacation I'll get my hootzpah back.

I did throw a big temper tantrum and get my way recently. I'm pretty excited about that. Now I know why my children do it. It feels good to manipulate.

The Girls

My very good friends and I congregated for book club this week. We talked about everything from vaginal secretions to burquas to women bullies. We laughed a lot and realized that the word "hosiery" could be added to the banned word list. We celebrated birthdays and talked about kids. It was great.

The thing that amazed me the most is that we all have experienced women bullies in our very different lives. What is the matter with our gender? We all get the crappy side of the toilet paper sometimes, why can't we just give each other a break? I know that I am guilty of hating women who are thinner or smarter or prettier, but I am not outwardly hostile.( unless you are crazy and I call you a freak) I just talk behind their backs. The RIGHT way to do it. Come ON ladies, this open confrontation is not good for anyone.

Finally the girls have taken back their power. WE WILL NOT BE BURQUAED!

Serendipity

That's the name of "the boat". J. acquired the boat almost seven years ago. He bought it right after A. was born. He wanted to spend a lot of time at the boat. The two friends that he bought it with did not have children at the time, so they also wanted to spend a lot of time at the boat. This is where my hatred of the boat began.

As a baby, A. was incredibly difficult and I was unmedicated. J. would go to the boat. Luckily I had a very good friend with very soft boobs, who would come over and hold A. for hours. Something about those boobs put A. to sleep every time. She kept me from running away in those early months. But that is when I started to devise a plan to firebomb the boat.

We moved to Boston shortly after that and the boat was no longer an issue. The only time it came up was when we were paying for something we weren't using. I was getting over my hatred.

We moved back. This time, however, everyone had kids and the boys didn't go out as much. I may have mellowed in my old age, but when her name was mentioned I no longer wished a hurricane to come to the Midwest. As time as moved on, the boat has become a place where J. can go to get away from us. (I appreciate that as well). But he has also begun to take the kids and that is awesome. With the exception of A. falling off the boat last year, there have been no incidents.

Well, this Saturday I took my voyage. I was prepared to grin and bear it for the sake of the family. Besides the swarms of beetles landing on me and the general filth of lake life, I was pleasantly surprised. I did have to wonder, what do you do out here all day? Then I saw the midget hookers...

I think I may be dying

I mean of course we're all dying but last night I woke up with the worst pain in my stomach. It was a nauseated pain it was a sharp knitting needle slicing through your intestinal track pain. I was holding my stomach when suddenly I realized the herniated belly button wasn't herniating anymore. Had it exploded and now I was dying a slow death? Maybe.

Well, I drank some water and it went away.

I may be a stalker...

I think I could be a stalker. Ask J. he'll tell you I stalked him. But that was WAY before there were any laws and he married me anyway.

I kind of freaked when my babysitter quit. This is the first time that I had only one back up and she is leaving in August. What am I going to do? Welp, I decided I was gonna get me a girl. And that's what I did.

The hunt began last week. I put a sign up at C.'s preschool. Nobody called. In the meantime, I've been watching the "helpers" at C.'s school. I watch how they look, how they talk, do they smile, are they clean...you know. After a couple of days of watching I narrowed it down to two. On the day of the ambush, I took a shower. I got C. and A. dressed better than usual and made sure they were clean. We got to school early and I parked up the hill so I could monitor the situation. She came out. I started yelling at the kids,"NOW NOW NOW MOVE MOVE MOVE!!!" Bewildered, C. jumped out of the car and followed me down the hill.

As I approached, I put on my best mom smile and started talking REALLY fast, that way she would agree without knowing what she was agreeing to. My plan was working. She looked like a deer in the headlights as she listened to me ramble on. She said yes. I said are you sure. She said she'd call me about the details. I gave her my number.

Triumphantly I walked back to the car. Then it dawned on me a) I don't know her name and b) girls say they are gonna call but they don't. I didn't want to freak her out more than I already had, so I decided to wait til the next day for the second part of the plan.

The next day I practiced what I was going to say, so that she wouldn't realize that I did not know her name. I approached her with pen and paper. I asked again if she was interested and told her of my desperation. I think she could see it on my face. I asked her very calmly if she would write down her name and number on the sheet of paper so that I could call her next week. She agreed. I GOT HER NOW BOYS!!! I got her name and number. She cannot get away! I hope she doesn't try to leave, I'd hate to have to kill her.

Okay, so I'm not so tough

I realize that a few days ago I was all about quitting my job and sticking it to the man (or woman) in this case. Amy is right. I will never really quit this job. The pressure was TOO much. Everywhere I turned people were telling me that they could find me a babysitter. Since I was not terribly interested in someone's niece's second cousin's neighbor, I found someone on my own. Why can't I just say I'm leaving and that be it? The someone I found is not ideal, since she is leaving in the middle of August and can only do one day.

I am thinking of putting up a flyer on the poles in the neighborhood. One of my best friends from college's step daughter is coming to SLU for school in the fall. Perfect! Except she doesn't have a car. I pleaded with my friend to give this girl a car. Her response was very simple. She said,"What did you and CJ do in CJ's car when you were freshmen?" I stole lobsters, went looking for donuts at 3:30 in the morning, gave rides to strangers... Point taken.

Tattlers and Lock outs

My kids are making me crazy. A. can't stop telling on her brother. I have resorted to the,"If I didn't see it, it didn't happen" rule. C. really wins with this one.

C. was almost given away yesterday. A. and C. were outside and I was taking the trash out to the dumpster. All of a sudden, C. get an idea. (never good). He races into the house, slams the door and locks it. He laughs. He's not gonna open the door. He's smart because I am so mad. He goes and sits on the couch. I am thinking of the different ways I am going to punish him.

Rockin Out

Took the kids to their first concert on Sunday. It was at a night club down the street from the house. It was funny to watch all the parents. They were a little too into the music. They seemed to be trying very hard to make this Dave Matthews instead of Ralph's World.

A. is becoming socially aware. She wanted to dance. She wanted to get in the pit and start shaking what her momma gave her. BUT, it may not have been cool. She had to look around and make sure that other kids her age were out there and not just little kids before she could. C. on the other hand was dancing and didn't care. He did however remind me of me. He thought it was too loud. I always complained of the music being too loud. He wanted them to turn it down. I tried to explain that they can't do that.

At on point the band invited the whole crowd on the stage for the final song. I thought C. would be right up in front getting his groove on. I was mistaken. He went right for the drums. He stood absolutely still with his mouth open. He was in a trance. He then turned to me and said,"I want drums for my birthday."

BOW WOW WOW

I am in the doghouse. What the hell is wrong with me? Since quitting smoking my shopping is getting out of hand. I got it yesterday. I deserved it. I can admit when I have done wrong, usually just not at the time it is being brought to my attention. I gotta get all indignant and make things worse. When will I ever learn? Sorry man.

OH NO SHE DIDN'T

A. is playing softball this year with non school kids. It's actually kind of nice because no one knows me and I don't have to be nice. So, anyway, we're at the game Saturday and C. is running around and trips over this woman's outstretched leg. Any other mother would ask the three year old child if he was okay. Not this one. She looked right at me and gave me the "Can't you control your child?" look. So I give her the "OH NO YOU DIDN'T" look. And she gave me the ,"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU" look? And I gave her the, "THAT'S RIGHT, BIOTCH, YOU DON'T KNOW ME" look. Then she flipped her big hair around.

So, she's sitting there in her Jackie O sunglasses, tight jeans and animal print shoes, lounging in her chair, chatting to the other moms who seem to be terribly interested in her. (By the by, animal print clothing is for prostitutes and children. If you are offended because you wear them, take heed, you are being talked about). She is obviously the Queen Bee. Then I recognized her. She was that twit in my Jazercise class who talked through the whole hour. She was even reprimanded by the instructor for being so rude. I reached further into memory (as exercising was so long ago) and remembered that her son is the one C. popped in the mouth and gave a bloody lip. I smiled and hugged C.

I just want to sleep!

Is that really too much to ask?

I quit my job, sort of. After some surprisingly adverse reactions to my leaving I told them I'd be back in September. I hate confrontations.

Have you ever?

Have you ever just gotten out of bed and decided that you were going to be mean today? Today I have decided that I am going to go above and beyond my normal negativity and be a real bitch. I am going to say no to any requests, I am going to bite people's heads off and I may push an elderly person. I could kick a puppy too if I can find one. I don't know what is in my craw, but Lordy, Lordy I's ready fo a fight. Good thing I'm going to work today.

I think maybe I'll storm in my boss's office, throw my keys and ID badge across the desk, slam my fists on the desk and say" YOU KNOW WHAT, LADY? I AM QUITTING YOU! SO YOU CAN TAKE ALL YOUR CRAZY, METH SMOKING, NO TEETH HAVIN, WIFE BEATIN, CHILD LEAVIN, CROSS DRESSIN, SWORD CARRYIN, GRENADE HAVIN, FREAK SHOWS AND BLOW IT UP YOUR ASS.

I AM NOT WEARING PANTY HOSE WHEN IT IS 100 DEGREES OUTSIDE. I AM NOT APOLOGIZING TO THAT FREAK FOR CALLING HER A FREAK AND FINALLY I AM NOT GOING TO ANY MORE OF YOUR DAMN SELF DEFENSE CLASSES. IF SOMEONE COMES AT ME I'M GONNA POKE EM IN THE EYE AND RUN LIKE HELL!!! HOW YOU LIKE DEM APPLES, LADY?!?!?!?"

HOW YOU LIKE ME NOW?!?! CHICAHHH!

Sad

I just heard from my mom that my brother's best friend died tonight. He had cancer. He was 35. The really sad thing is that they said it could have been treated if he had come in earlier. He didn't have health insurance, so he never went. It makes me so angry that this country can spend billions of dollars on a senseless war, but we can't keep provide health coverage to our citizens. Shame on us.

I just feel sad.

Summer Time Blues

It's been over a week since I have had time to post. A lot of nothing has been in the way. I have had some family drama, work drama and intestinal drama. Where o where do I begin?

I have to quit my job. My newest babysitter told me last night that she is moving to Chicago and July 12th will be her last day. I got no back up, so I gotta go. Work is getting a little slow and I got in trouble the other day. I know, I know it is hard to believe, but I guess it is unprofessional when you call a colleague a freak. I didn't really call her a freak, I said she was acting like a freak. Apparently that hurt her feelings and she told my boss, who confronted me. Luckily it was also a day when I wasn't wearing the required hosiery. In my defense, it was really hot and my colleague was acting like a freak. Another example of the defective self censor.

My transgender client was in last week. He and I talked more about his court case. He inadvertently left out that in addition to the sword and the musket that was found on his person, they also found a live grenade. He further explained that the reason he was so upset with his wife was that she wrecked his "pony girl" S&M outfit that he had been making for an upcoming parade. She even pulled out the ostrich plume. It all makes a lot more sense to me now. Who wouldn't be angry? Now he's gone to have to settle for "ordinary" leather bondage equipment. (Everyone go look up "pony girl", I'll wait.)

Anyhow, he decided that he is going to divorce her. He also gave me the link to pictures of himself as a woman. He ain't pretty. I thought he'd look better, he just kinda looks slutty. I don't know what I was expecting. How many people into S&M dress in Laura Ashley?

Other than that work is work. It's been a month since I stopped smoking. It's also been a month since I stopped sleeping and pooping. Who knew that J. was asking me to give up so much. I got a little stomach bug yesterday. Prayed a lot when I was in the car. I know, I know, I can never be satisfied.

I got a call from my folks last night. They wanted to make sure that I don't get to start thinking of myself as some type of fancy pants. They went to my cousin's wedding this weekend. Apparently I need to be reminded that in every family there is a hillbilly. My cousin got married in a field, with Port-a-Potties, an accordion player and naturally the best food and beverages. PBR and Amber Mist. My mom ruined her silk dress in the mud and my dad had dead bugs all over his linen jacket. We're blood related.

I only have a couple weeks left until my vacation to Mexico. I don't have a passport yet, but I'm sure it'll show up the day after we leave. Gotta go get A. from her Nazi swim camp. Hope she learns to swim.

Careful what you wish for...

For the past two weeks I have been counting the days until I could go back to work. Tuesday, I went. My new babysitter started, I had a new outfit, a new attitude. I was ready. I walk in the door and my cell phone starts ringing. It's the babysitter. C. just threw up. A GM would have turned around and gone home. But we all know that I am not a GM, so I asked about a fever and told her I'd call her back in an hour. I didn't go home. He was FINE!

Yesterday I had a 12 hour day. For the ninth time since 1993 I had to take a self defense course at my job. It hasn't changed in 9 years. I guess I was hoping that maybe they would teach us how to defend ourselves against an eye poke or a wedgie. Nope, just chokes and whatnot. I could have easily fallen asleep if it had not been for the overly enthusiastic attendee sitting directly next to me. She talked and asked questions and made us stay over for 20 minutes. NOT AMUSED!! I needed to return some shoes to Marshalls. I did not have time for her banter. I gave her "the look" and was tempted to flick her ear every time she opened her mouth, but decided against it. There were a lot of really stupid people in this training. My only advice is stay out of psych units.

I finally got to work. My clients were the same. Not much had happened in the month that I was gone. Until I got a new client. He was about my age and relatively attractive, but there was something odd about him. Couldn't put my finger on it. I started the interview to find out that the reason he is odd looking is that he a cross dresser. He considers himself trans-gendered. He is currently going through a divorce (shocker). He's a carpenter by day and a femme by night. His eyebrows had a better arch than mine.

Anyway, cross dressing is not that odd in my business. What is odd is that he also makes armor and is a Civil War buff. He's facing domestic violence charges because during an argument, his wife called the police. When the police arrived, he ran into the woods, carrying a musket and a sword. Odd. When he was taken to jail, it was discovered by the jail officials that he was wearing pink ladies' underwear under his clothing. Odd.

Apparently he is into S&M but just the equipment and not the sex. He found his cross dressing "Big Sister" through this group. The "Big Sister" makes whips and other things for a living. Did you know that these groups have monthly meetings just like the Knights of Columbus? I wonder what their secret handshake is. Again, odd. He's also a Wicken. For some reason, he does not believe that any of these things will make him look bad in a custody dispute in rural Missouri. Odd.

He liked my sling backs.

Highway to Hell Musings

While spending 12 hours in the car my mind wandered. Here are some thoughts for the reader to ponder:
1. What is the best road trip song?
I would say that any classic 70's Rock with special recognition to AC/DC and Lynard Skynard.
Soundtrack to Jesus Christ Superstar.

2.What are your top three worst road trips?
a) The Great Kansas White Out- Many of you have heard this story, but for others it goes a little something like this....
At the age of 23 I left St. Louis to go to grad school out west. I was returning to Denver after visiting J. in St. Louis. I drove a bright blue Geo Metro the size of a golf cart. It had a broken window and I later found out (after wrecking it) that it was made with a large amount of plastic and Styrofoam. Anyway, there I was driving on Highway 70, cold and alone (due to the wind whipping through the broken window) in the middle of Kansas when it started to snow. It started to snow a lot. I kept going, barely managing to keep the Smurf Turd on the road. Up ahead there were state troopers closing the highway due to white out conditions.

I pulled into a creepy motel and prayed that I had enough on my credit card to reserve a room. The thought of sleeping in my car or in the lobby almost made me cry. I got a lovely room on the first floor right next to a BIG SCARY TRUCKER who was behind me at check in. I was not on meds yet, so I just knew that I would the victim of the White Out Killer. My body would be mutilated and thrown by the side of the road not to be discovered until the spring thaw. So, like any sane person, I moved all the movable furniture in front of the door and slept with my mace in my hand.

The next morning I awoke. I was still alive. I hadn't had anything to eat except about 10 granola bars that were in my back pack. In retrospect perhaps two granola bars would have been sufficient. About an hour into the trip, I had funny tummy. There I was, in the middle of Kansas, a foot of snow, whipping winds at 20 degrees and I have to crap. NOW!! I kept driving. There was not an exit for 35 miles. I didn't know if I could hold it for 35 miles. I was in quite a pickle.

After about 10 minutes of incredible pain, I had a decision to make. Should I just crap my pants? Should I pull over, trudge through the snow, risk frost bite and crap on the side of the road? Should I just pray that my sure will could carry me through? I was trying not to cry. I sat on my hand (which is difficult when you have a manual transmission) and soldiered on. I will admit that the thought of just letting go was appealing, but I persevered. Up ahead, through my tears, I saw the grossest service station. I didn't care. I raced into the store to find the women's room occupied. Without a thought I slammed into the men's room. The toilet was "out of order", the urinal was all that was available. It had to be done.

I slinked out.

b. The "Tornado": On the same highway, on my move out to Colorado, in the same car, I tried to out race a tornado. I didn't make it. I had to pull over and park my Geo, with everything I own it to be swept up in the tornado.

c. "Pulled Over": Driving with my brother home from St. Louis, I got pulled over in Red Neck, Oklahoma. The officer came up to the window and asked me to get out of the car. I was 20 at the time and SCARED to death. He walked around the car and looked at my brother. (At the time he had shoulder length hair, a nose ring, and dirty ripped clothing) He brought me into the cruiser. I was shaking and on the verge of tears. He looked at me and said," Do you know that man in your car?" "Yessir." "Who is he?" "My brother." "Are you sure? He's looks a little strange." "Yessir, he does, but he's my brother." " Is he carrying any drugs or weapons?" "No, sir .(praying he didn't have any pot or pills on him)" "I'm going to check your vehicle." "Yessir."

He asked my brother to get out of the car. He searched the Smurf Turd, gave me a speeding ticket and told me to watch out for creepy looking people.

3. Why do the people along Highway 70 in Indiana care so much about where I will spend eternity?

4. Why did my children morph into crazy people when we crossed the Ohio state line?

5. When did my parents get so old?
They repeat themselves, they talk incessantly about the weather, can't have a conversation without arguing, and hound me about getting a new car.

When I was leaving, my mother was at work. So, I believed that my father would help me get ready to go. I was mistaken. We got him out of bed in time to say good bye.

My mother came home to say good-bye and saw that I was watching the kids and packing by myself. She got mad and started yelling at my dad. He got mad. LORD! The kids and I finally get in the car and we are pulling out. My father, standing in his bathrobe is arguing with my mother about the directions she gave me. She's arguing back. Never mind about us...

Road to Nowhere

I have so much to say. It's been a LONG week and am happy to finally be home. I go back to work today and am so pleased. First I will start with my trip then I will ramble with my musings.

Wed: Pack the car in the pouring rain. C. has been up since 5:00, dressed and ready to go. This is when he crawled up my ass and has resided ever since. A. took a little longer to get there but she made room as well. We finally get on the road a half hour late. Okay. Breath. Breath.

After we are going for about a half hour, the DVD player just stops working. Since I have at least six hours ahead of me, it is imperative that I fix it or buy a new one. I am not a handy girl, so we pull over in Collinsville to the Wal Mart that is not open yet. DAMN DAMN DAMN. I'm going home. Nope, wait, there's a Radio Shack. They'll have one. $200 later, we're on the road again. I tell you it is a small price to pay for the safety of my children. (J., who is the Consumer Reports guy, wants to know how much, what brand, blah, blah, blah. Screw you man, you aren't trapped like a rat for six hours in a car with kids. I would have purchased Explosive Brand for $500 if it got me to Columbus and back)

Anyway, we hit road construction, the slowest Steak n Shake in the US and multiple potty stops. Luckily I was able to squeeze a six hour trip into nine. My father of course is in a panic. My husband, not so much.

Thursday: The plan is to go to the zoo. It's the Jack Hanna Zoo, so it's supposed to be great. The last time we went there it was cold out and we saw one animal. There was supposed to a penguin parade. It was a parade of one. I thought we'd give it another try. Of course we are up and ready to hit the road by 9:00. My father, who is insisting that he come along, wants us to wait for him. Fine, except that in order to wait for him to complete his daily OCD routine we'd be there until noon. So, he's crabby. I say, "Dad, you don't have to go. We'll be fine." I am pleading that he stay because I know what will happen. And it did.

We get to the zoo and it is packed. Wall to wall people. I think there were 25 schools there that day. We saw one animal, oddly enough it was the penguin. We had to leave because my father was having an anxiety attack. He could not tolerate all the ugly people touching him. We were there for 20 minutes.

Friday: The cleaning lady is coming so we have to leave. We go see Shrek. Again, I say," Dad, you don't have to go." He comes. I want to see the early show, so that we can have lunch and go home before the meltdowns. He has to crap, then take his dogs to crap. (Due to the anti-smoking meds I haven't crapped in a week and I my stomach is distended about five feet.) The movie is fine, but at lunch A. has a nervous breakdown. She's crying and carrying on about not knowing what she wants for lunch. OOOH NOOOO! Ain't havin it. I grabbed her arm, drug her out of the restaurant and sat her on a bench. I walked away from her because I really was going to kill her. Hell, I'm in Ohio. THEY DON"T KNOW ME!!! She finally pulls herself together and we return. We sit down and C. looks over at A. and in his sweetest voice says, "Thank you Mommy for taking us to lunch. I love you."

Saturday: Pretty uneventful during the day. Went to the butterfly house, where I was terrified that C. was going to try to squish a rare butterfly or something. One landed on me and I almost had a heart attack. My mother, who has a PhD in education was unable to read the sign about the mating birds and took my children into the cage. They quickly exited. Dad was off duty. While preparing for the party C. peed on my mother's newly planted bushes. NICE! Saturday night, my mother had a party for all her teachers and staff at the house, so I took the kids out for dinner. Apparently, we were gone too long. so my father starts calling every 15 minutes to find out where we are. I will admit that I was being a bitch and didn't answer the phone. I'll get there when I friggin get there! I played the ole, didn't change my watch thing when I finally got home. The party was a nightmare. A. spent the whole evening annoying the bartenders with another little girl. I must have yelled at her a hundred times. C. on the other hand was the life of the party. Once the music started, he was shaking what his momma gave him. He donkey kicked and at one point I thought he might head spin. He was funny.

Then, he wasn't. We were walking inside, when one of my mother's employees stopped to tell C. how cute he was. C. then stuck both fingers up his nose and said,"I have my fingers up my nose. I'm funny."

Sunday: WATER PARK!!!! Luckily my father decided to stay home. We went to an indoor water park located at a resort. This resort was snuggly built between an industrial park and a highway. The view was gorgeous. Anyhoo, it was incredibly expensive and very crowded with ugly people with very little clothing. I had to wonder, wouldn't it be better to spend your money on dental hygiene than whole body tattoos? Maybe it's just me. I walked by certain people and thought to myself,"I'll bet he's peeing."

A. and C. had a GREAT TIME! I, of course, had to take A. on all the rides. I am sore from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet. I didn't know there were special water slide muscles. A. loved the slide where you lay on mat and sail down a slide while water pelts you in the eyes like tiny spears. The heavier you are the faster you go. I went really fast. This pre-teen boy wanted to race. Being the adult I am, as I slid past him I yelled,"IN YOUR FACE!!!"

We are home now and I go back to work today. I have to save my musings for another day...

LORD I'M BORED

I think I have hit an all time low. I just unknowingly spent a full hour on the General Hospital message board reading about fictional characters. These people are crazy. You should see the arguments these folks get into over people who do not exist! Now to be fair they also fight about whether or not someone should be banned for their opinion about the character. Right there we are talking about something much deeper, First Amendment rights. There was also a rather heated debate about whether or not Miss Universe should be Japanese because Japanese women are not attractive. LORD HAVE MERCY ON MY SOUL!!

Be warned: These people walk among us.

The First 48

As in a criminal investigation, quitting smoking is at a critical point in the first 48. I made it. I haven't had a cigarette in three days. Not to say that I don't want one, because I REALLY do. My MD encouraged me to pick a time when my stress was at a minimum and there would be available support. I picked this weekend. 6:00PM on Friday was my last smoke. Ahhh, the good ole days. The medicine I am on works okay. I am a little on edge but not killing anyone. The bonus to the meds is that it gives me insomnia, constipation and gas. Okay, so it's hard to say if the medicine is causing the gas, but I'm going with that for now.

J. has been awesome. He's taken the children away from me and allowed me time to myself. God love him. He's also been watching and sniffing me. He doesn't think I know, but I do. I truly am smoke free. Why the hell would I be this crabby if I was smoking?

The weekend was good for the most part. We were busy enough that I had other things to occupy me. Two BBQs in two days. The first one was fine. A. got hit in the head with a bat, which caused some drama. She's fine. The second one would have been fine if I were not a full out freak show. My sister in law was there and just looking at her makes me mad. Her kids were ornery and so my kids decided it was okay to act like fools. My niece is a brat. She was deliberately trying to hurt C. I yelled at her and she shot me a look that stopped me in my tracks. She is SOOOOO lucky she is not my kid. We had to leave before my head exploded. I don't have much self control right now.

Tomorrow we are leaving to visit my parents. I am not sure this is the best idea but I'll either kill my kids here or there. Doesn't matter to me. Since 6:30 AM these kids have been fighting. I just screeched. I put my fingers in my ears and screamed," THIS IS WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE WHEN I AM IGNORING YOU!!!" Yes, I'm 35.

Not much has happened on General Hospital, although there is quite a feud between Liz and Sam fans about Liz's baby. I did find an addicting quiz game that has helped me keep my sanity. Only one week to go. I never thought I'd miss my listening to crazy people as much as I do. Okay, so it's getting away from two short crazy people.

Wishing you clean air!

Summer!

I have to go back to work. NOW! Everything my children are doing is making me crazy. Today was the final blow. We went to a mall with their friends that has an indoor playground. What more could a kid want? Well, they were from the depths of hell. This is also after spending the past two days doing everything these kids wanted to do. I FLIPPED!! When we got home I sent them to their rooms and ordered them to go to sleep because I needed to go to sleep. I realized very quickly that no matter how much you threaten and yell you CANNOT physically make someone go to sleep.

I tried to quit smoking today. The shitty thing is that because of the medicine the cigarette did not work. I was still mad and crabby and wanted to sell my children to the traveling gypsies. Though I don't believe the gypsies would have even taken them today. I mean, they were up for four minutes and started fighting. A. told me today that she wants me to go back to work. AMEN SISTA!

Graduation

A. graduated from kindergarten yesterday. I know it is kinda goofy but I really liked it. They put on a program for the parents and got to wear little hats. All very cute. BUT, of course, that is not why I am posting. I am posting to bitch.

After the graduation there was a picnic at a local park. Because I hate everyone, I stood on the playground watching the children. I was the ONLY parent watching 35 kids. I often am ridiculed for my loud bullhorn voice, so decided, WTF (learned that on General Hospital board), I am not going to reprimand any children except mine. After about 35 minutes it began to resemble Lord of the Flies or a frat house. All the boys had their shirts off and were chasing the girls. The girls were fighting back. It was bedlam. No parents. So, I said (not yelled), "Hey guys. Let's cut that out." No one heard me. Then all of a sudden this BOOMING voice came from behind me. In an instant she was on the jungle gym, fingers in kids faces, pulling people a part. I looked at her in disbelief. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL YEAR? WE COULD TOTALLY BE FRIENDS!! I don't know her name, but I will.

J. would have been so disappointed in me. I stood off to the side and only spoke when spoken to. I was fine with that. I really don't like these people and after a year of self doubt and concern for my child's popularity, I am really okay with it.

Losing It

I think spending the last three weeks with my children and not working has caused me to lose some essential brain cells. Being a referee does not stimulate one intellectually, unless you are thinking about how NOT to kill one of them. Sometimes that whole survival of the fittest thing is necessary.

Anyway, yesterday was A.'s kindergarten graduation (which I will discuss later). It was her day so we did a lot of running around. I needed to get some gas. I pulled in, popped the gas tank, got out my credit card, selected the grade of fuel, inserted the nozzle and walked away. I started cleaning the car out. After a few minutes I went back around, saw that I had filled up, got in the car and drove off. It was within seconds of the gas light illuminating that I realized that I had not filled my car up, rather had merely placed the nozzle in my car and took out the trash. I never inserted my card. So, back I went.

It's the first night of summer so I let the kids stay up watching movies. After they went to bed I started watching my crap shows. Before I truly realize what is happening, it is 2:30 AM and I have been watching Cheaters for an hour. New lows.

As you know, I am quitting smoking. Tomorrow is my first official day. Not looking forward to it, but I know that I gotta. Anyway, I needed to find a replacement activity. I cannot believe that I about to put out there what I have been doing to take my mind of smoking. Are you ready for this? Remember, I am in fragile place with my sanity and am about to break up with the best friend (besides TV) that I have ever had. I have been on the General Hospital message Board. (I think my face is turning red as we speak) Yes, I have been discussing at length with perfect strangers the ins and outs of the goings ons of the residents of Port Charles. I am very sad to say that it is very interesting. Kinda like Star magazine. Where else would I learn about what happened on the View between Rosie and the skinny stupid woman? I have also been educated on computer shorthand. I now know what LOL, LMAO, ITA, IMO, WTF mean. GOD HELP ME!

I gotta go back to work...

Jim Jones

While riding in the car today, C. stated that he was the boss of the little kids.
"I am the leader. They are the followers. They are the followers of me."

Keep the Kool Aid away from this kid.

Wilderness Tips

I made it. I spent the weekend convening with nature. I hate nature. Animals scare me, bugs bite me and the bon fires make me a nervous wreck. We went to the lake where J. keeps his boat. He has had this boat for 6 years. This is the first time I have seen it. It's a decent boat. I didn't get on it. My poor little heart could only take so much. I did almost rip my hamstring as I placed one foot on the boat and one foot on the dock. The boat started moving. I was splitting in half.

J. and the kids and I were separated. It was fine but it would have been better if we had been together. I didn't realize how annoying other people's routines are. Once again, why can't everyone do things the way I do?

By Saturday night I was ready to go home. I was tired and dirty and hadn't pooped in two days. There was a shower but I chose not to use it. I was rank by Sunday. The kids had a great time and I think J. did too. I survived. There were a couple of close calls. Besides the boat moving out from under me I had a harrowing experience with an animal.

I was walking to the dumpster to throw out the incredible amount of garbage, when I spotted something moving. Heart rate increased, slowed my pace. Out of the brush came the LARGEST critter I have ever seen. He must have been 5 ft tall and 100lbs. He stared into my eyes. A chill ran down my spine as I stared back. My eyes told this creature that he would not win. I am going to throw this trash in the appropriate receptacle. I am not a litter bug. Don't push me when I am so close to the edge. I said with my eyes. He turned and went back into the forest. Okay, so it was just a raccoon. But I still stared him down. Okay I didn't stare him down, I stood very still until he scampered off.

C. had a great time squirrel hunting and fishing. He didn't get that you can't just say,"Here fishy, fishy" and the fish come to you. A. did catch a fish. She was so excited!

The discussion at the end of the trip revolved around next year. CRAP!

Bellybuttons and Murder Plots

Saturday night at book club there was an in depth discussion of bellybuttons. Amy is concerned that when she is 82, neither she nor her husband will be able to properly clean her bellybutton. Never thought of that.

I need to get my belly button fixed. Part of the problem with the dress I wore on our anniversary was that it skimmed my protruding belly button. Dee believes that my belly button looks like it has foreskin. I believe my belly button has an overhang to protect it from the elements.

Now, on to the murder plot. Last night I got into bed after J. was asleep. He rolled over and put his hand around my throat. I smacked him and said in a very distressed manner, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!?!" He smiled, and said, "Just practicing." Rolled over giggling like a school girl.

This morning I confronted him on this odd behavior. He didn't "remember" it. I think he's planning his defense.

Mother's Day Weekend

WHEW! This weekend is finally over. It was great but too busy for a lazy girl like me. J. did a wonderful job for our anniversary. We had a great time. We took some pictures that were just developed and I look pregnant. Not fat, pregnant. These pictures will not see the light of day as most of the photos of me don't. I never take good pictures and outfits that I think are attractive just aren't.

Mother's Day was fine. I was supposed to sleep in, however the children and J had different plans. J. and his goof ball friends stayed up until 2:30AM playing RISK, so he didn't jump out of bed Sunday AM at 5:45 when C. got up. Instead, he rolled out, stumbled downstairs and fell asleep on the couch. It was not the light sleep, it was the full out drooling, snoring, sleep jerk sleep. At various times C. came up for me to play games with him. When I would shoo him downstairs, he would leave and slam the door. At one point the dog got out and J. had to get up.

At about 10:30 everyone finally left. I was awake. The rest of the day was fine except that due to the fact that the kids had two sleepovers they were an absolute nightmare. Screaming, crying, carrying on and J. was asleep on the couch.

Blabber, Blabber, Blabber

On May 17th J. and I will be married for 10 years. I can now collect his Social Security if he divorces me. He may. Some very lovely friends of ours have taken the kids for the night so that J. and I can celebrate our anniversary. I think that I am a very hard person to do something nice for, because I keep asking, "Are you sure?"

Anyhow, as I sit here I think about the past ten years. We've moved a lot and had two kids. It's been good. We are alone in the house right now. He's asleep. Hope the evening gets better. A. has a softball game at 9:00 tomorrow morning. She won't be going due to the fact that I am a sleep whore.

Sunday is Mother's Day and I think that I am one of the few mothers in the world who likes to spend the day WITHOUT her children. Just more proof that I am not a GM. J. really wants me to go to his mother's house on Sunday. I just keep telling him, "She ain't my momma." He's trying to use guilt. You gotta have a conscience in order for guilt to work. All I want for Mother's Day is to be left in peace. I have to finish grading the exams, so I'll probably just take a nap.

The $7.00 Clinical Strength Secret doesn't work. DAMN!! I don't smell as bad but I am still sweaty. Maybe I need to look into Botox. Nothing like having botulism shot into my armpits. At least they would not have those unsightly crow's feet.

My friend Flopsy asked me if I would allow my children to be photographed for her magazine. The story is about cooking with kids. My children will not understand the concept. I don't understand the concept. I asked her if she wanted C. in an AC/DC shirt flashing the devil sign. She thinks I'm kidding. I think maybe I should become a stage mom. At least then all my yelling would have a purpose.

C. has moved on from heavy metal. As we were walking up to school yesterday he began to sing, " Get on down, get on down." which then led to "I ain't no holler back girl". In the middle of the sidewalk, he donkey kicks. I think this boy may end up a wigger instead. Or a drag queen. So, instead of the mullet and the Trans Am, I need to concern myself with the pimped out Honda Civic, with chrome wheels, a gold grill in his mouth and corn rolls basing NWA. OR, stealing A's underwear and lip synching to "I've Never Been To Me". Oh, the possibilities.

Secret Clinical Strength

FINALLY a deodorant strong enough to control my pits! I saw it advertised on late night TV. I'm going out this morning to get it. Hopefully it is not a tub of cement like cream that you rub under your arms and when it dries you are unable to lower your arms. Although I would probably try it anyway.

The countdown begins

I am quitting smoking on May 21st. I went to the MD. He prescribed Chantix. He has an 80% success rate, he doesn't want me to screw that up. He encouraged me to pick a time when I will not be in difficult situations to stop smoking. I replied, " You want me to wait until the kids leave for college (or rehab in C's case)?" He didn't laugh.

Memoirs of a Single Parent

J. is out of town again. He's been gone a lot lately and I am beginning to get used to life as a single parent. The house is a mess, the kids have been eating crap every night for dinner and I am maintaining my sanity by drinking and smoking.

J. left Friday for a bachelor party in Memphis. I had a sleepover for A. The girls stayed up until 11:30 and were up at 6:15. I made it due to a three hour mandatory nap on Saturday. Luckily I had an evening out planned. Sunday the kids and I had to go to church. I had volunteered to set up the volunteer appreciation breakfast after the 9:00 Mass. I had not realized that J. would be out of town. I thought about "forgetting" but decided that since I have done very little this year that I should go.

I got everyone ready to go and by the time I arrived I was sweating and yelling and cursing. All of the GMs that were there were fresh as flowers and smiling at their well-groomed children. We went into the church and C. started with me. As the priest was entering and the singing began, he thought that maybe it was karaoke day at church and started singing Shrek songs at the top of his lungs. We spent the rest of the Mass in the back of the church.

Back in the cafeteria after Mass I chased my children, yelled at my children and sweated. At one point one of the GMs told me that she didn't recognize me at first because I wasn't wearing my baseball cap. She really meant that she had never seen me clean before. Finally the head lady was tired of hearing me yell and sent me home. Thank God.

J. got home Sunday night. They went to the Civil Rights Museum and ate fried chicken on this bachelor party. I guess once you get to a certain age, the appeal of strip clubs is replaced by food and a good night's sleep. I'm glad I'm not the only one getting old.

Well, next Friday J. and I are celebrating our 10th anniversary. We have a lovely night planned so I thought that I would purchase some sexy lingerie for the occasion. I went to Victoria's Secret today. I should not go there. Everything I saw was created for someone besides me. Everything I picked up, I had to stop, picture myself in and then carefully replace on the rack. At one point I probably could have gotten away with this stuff. Now, not so much. Half the stuff I did not even know how to put on. The very gay salesman asked if he could help me. I told him I didn't think so.

I want you to visualize this scene:
It's dark, romantic music playing, glasses of champagne poured, candles lit (must be extinguished before sleep as to not be a fire hazard). I walk into the room, wearing nothing but a bustier and thong. The roll of fat on my stomach SQUEEZED out between the top of the thong and the bottom of the bustier. (I have to hike up the bustier so that it does not put too much pressure on my herniated belly button) I glide across the room, thighs rubbing together. I twirl, to show my love the beauty of me. The moonlight reflects off the mayonnaise white of my ass. I stretch out on the bed and raise my arms above my head and rest upon my chicken flap. I paint a lovely picture. I love J. Can't do that to him. Look much better in my Red Sox t-shirt and boxers.

The Week in Review

This past week has been rather hectic and I have been unable to find time to sit down and vomit all of my experiences until now. I really should be working on my class, but I am unmotivated. It is my last class and I'm teaching about childhood psychiatric diagnoses. I should just bring my children in as Exhibit A and B.

Friday: I had a conference to go to. It was possibly the worst conference I have ever attended. Luckily Consuela wasn't there. I seemed to be the only one there who wanted to have someone pull out my leg hairs one by one rather than listen to this woman. The best part was that the woman presenting was from South Africa and had an accent. Every time she said "decade" it sounded like she was saying "dickhead." It made me giggle. By the end of the conference and she was still droning on, I got up, got my certificate and left. I had a lunch date with someone much more interesting.

Saturday: A. had her first softball game. I hate softball. A. played for a total of 15 minutes of the hour that we were there. It's not that she was benched it was that all the girls only played 15 minutes. A. did manage to catch a ball (with her face) and make a hit. She was in heaven. The things we do for our kids. Luckily I don't know any of the moms, because I was in a bad mood and yelled at somebody's kid for kicking dirt on C. I didn't even use the nice Mommy correcting voice. I used the "WHAT THE HELL" voice that I use with my own kids.

After the game, we took naps. YEAH!! Then J. and I went out to dinner with the Pop-on Mom and her MD husband. It was fine. I watched my language and my storytelling. I tried not to gossip with this incredibly nice woman. I couldn't help it. She just gave me the,"Oh, they are a very nice family" crap. J. shot me the "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PLEASE SHUT UP!!!" look.

There was a question about my ability to self censor. I have a little man in my head who often says, "SHHHHHHH! Don't say that. " Sometimes the little man is sleeping or on vacation or drunk. So mostly I self censor after the fact in the form of an apology. That was never more true than the following day.

Sunday: First Communion. A. and I went to a friend of ours son's first communion. It was fine. It was the BBQ afterward. First, C. being the incredibly brilliant child that he is, discovered the pitching machine in their backyard. He HAD to play with it. Fine. Unfortunately he did not know how to play with it. He watched the wiffle balls shoot out of it but was unclear what happened next. So, he stood in front of it and began to get pelted. I stopped him, only to see him later stick his face next in front of the shoot. Not bright, not bright. Then he discovered the nerf rocket launcher. For the rest of the afternoon, he hid behind trees and in the clubhouse trying to pick off kids, one by one. He spent a lot of time in time out.

My friend's nieces, both 18 months old, were at the BBQ. They had come up from Kentucky, so I had never seen them before. They were not attractive children. In fact, I thought maybe there was something wrong with one of them. So, instead of keeping this thought to myself, I asked my friend," Does S. have Down's Syndrome?" My friend fell out of her chair laughing. Recognizing that the child did not have Down's Syndrome, I stated, "Oh, I guess she's just unattractive." That is where the self censoring should have come in, instead there was the apology.

Monday: JURY DUTY!!! I arrived at the courthouse at 8:15. Remind me if I ever am going to trial, NOT to be judged by a jury of my peers. I listened to conversations of my fellow potential jurors and was afraid. The guy sitting next to me attempted to engage me a number of times in conversation. I put my "I smell poop" face on went about my reading. Luckily, he was called and I was not. I sat in the jury holding cell until 3:30. I fell asleep at one point. It was the kind of sleep that you don't realize that you're asleep until your head jerks up and your arm has fallen asleep. I was sitting in the aisle seat, spread out as could be. I awoke because a gentleman was trying to climb over me and tripped. I about kicked him in the nards in my sleep jerk state. It was Jury appreciation week this week. We got some mints. I felt oh, so appreciated.

I now must go get my hair cut and eventually prep for class. I really just want to nap.

Porn and me

I was not allowed to see porn until today. I tried once when I was in graduate school to watch a Playboy soft porn movie. It got stuck in my VCR and I was too embarrassed to take it to the repair shop that I threw it in the dumpster outside my apartment building. (The VCR was 15 years old)

I tried to go to a strip club in college during Mardi Gras. They wouldn't let me in, so I had to sit on the curb in front of the strip club and wait for my friends who had ID's. People say interesting things to you if you are sitting on the curb outside of a strip club.

Today I saw porn. It was truly an accident. I was viewing other blogs, wasting time, when a bog titled "Adult" came up. I knew this was not going to be a funny blog about moms in suburbia. All of sudden BAM--BOOBS! AGHHHH!! My kids are in the next room! I kept clicking on the next blog button to no avail. I could not get the boobs of the screen. Then the computer froze. DAMN IT !!! When I try to see porn, I am denied, when I am just bored BAM! PORN!

Luckily I was able to turn the computer off and start over.

Headbanger's Ball

When I was in high school I made fun of the headbangers with their Judas Priest T-shirts and their dog collars. They had really bad hair and hung out in the park scaring all the kids.

I have a feeling that I may have a headbanger in the family. Where A. used to dance and sing to Bust a Move, C. has love of heavy metal rock n' roll. On the way home today AC/DC's Highway to Hell came on. I was about to change it when a little voice from the back said very calmly, "Turn it up." He then proceeded to bang his head.

Flash forward 13 years: Mullet, ripped sleeveless Ronny Dio T-shirt, dog collar and a black t-top Trans Am. Talk about the highway to hell.

Dog Poop and Underpants and a Moustache

I went to the mall today to buy some unmentionables. I hate to buy new underwear but it is time. I wear cotton. I don't like patterns or lace or fringe. I like white, black and beige cotton. That's it. Well of course the salesgirl tried to show my vinyl and the new fabric that looks like fabric but is really saran wrap. No, ma'am, just cotton, please.

Sales: Are you concerned about pantie lines?
Me: Should I be?
Sales: We have this new seamless, lightweight, blah, blah...

I'm thinking to myself, if it has not seams and is more light weight than regular underwear, aren't we just talking about string? I don't know about you but my current underwear is not particularly heavy or cumbersome. Maybe she thought I wore a chastity belt.

I felt the non-fabric and said again, I really just like cotton.
"Well. How bout a thong?"
I look like a bum, do I really look like I wear a thong? And why is this woman so concerned about my pantie lines?

She finally gets fed up with me. I find my way to the old lady cotton underwear table. I get what I am looking for. SO much for me and my pantie lines.

When I get home I open the door and am immediately SMACKED in the face with the unmistakable smell of crap. DAMN! DAMN! Dukie comes to the door, head down, ears back. He's sorry. Now it's up to me to find it. Luckily I found the first pile next to the back door. It's not poop, it's diarrhea. I immediately start gagging. I don't know if I can do this. I pick up the rug and throw it outside. I think I'm going to puke.

I put my head between my knees and catch my breath. I walk back in the house. The smell is still there. Is it residual or is there more? Just as I step in it I get my answer. It is at this point that I puke. Then Dukie pukes. DAMN!!!! Okay, I only puked a little. I finally clean it all up. I air out the house and spray Lysol EVERYWHERE! I had to make a phone call to Dell (which is the most annoying customer service company there is). After waiting ten minutes for a representative I see Dukie puke on the floor next to me.

I should have known that this was going to be that kind of day when it started out with the Asian woman who was waxing my eyebrows asking me if I wanted her to wax my moustache. I don't have a moustache, at least I've never had one before today.

Concession

The bumper sticker war is over. I concede defeat. Saturday night J. and I had a long debate about the bumper sticker. I did not remove it. I explained my right to free speech and expression. I explained how he was oppressing me. I argued about how much I hate the gigantic flag hanging outside our house. It turned into the dumbest argument of our marriage. I slept on the couch. We stopped speaking. This morning I took the high road and removed the bumper sticker. He's a worthy opponent.

The Things We Do

I am so glad that this weekend is over. I can FINALLY get a break. It started on Friday. I was running late as usual and just threw on some clothes that I thought would be fine. As I checked myself in the bathroom at work I realized that I looked like a Neapolitan ice cream cone. (Not a great look) THEN, my boss came in and gave me a look because I was not complying with dress code. (It had nothing to do with looking like a dessert) I wasn't sure if she was going to give me a demerit.

Work was fine. Nothing out of the ordinary. I had made plans with my sister-in-law and her kids to go see a children's performer that evening. I think his name is Beelzebub or Ballyhoo or Bumble bee or some such nonsense. The kids had a great time. I wanted to pull my eyeballs out of my head, but we made it.

Then Saturday arrived. It was up and out to collect food for the poor with the Daisies. Yepiee! Nothing like spending my morning to sleep in herding little children and listening to the Queen of GMs tell me all about her wonderful children. (The Queen lost my kid last week on a Daisy excursion while I was on my way to Chicago) Due to the incident of the previous week, the Queen lowered herself to speak with me. She kissed my butt. I have to say that I enjoyed her pain.

After Daisies it was off to softball. I have to hand it to those coaches. I cannot IMAGINE trying to herd all those girls and actually trying to teach them something. Hats off and appreciation to you! I do not know the moms for the softball team. Saturday was my first chance to make a good impression. I already don't like one of them. I think the moms thought I was evil due to the fact that I wouldn't take A. to the bathroom. It was all about natural consequences. I begged her to use the bathroom before we left. She wouldn't. I told her if she had to go while at practice we would have to leave. She had to go. I told her to hold it or we needed to leave. She held it. I had some looks, but I am used to that.

The other problem was A. She is an eager, competitive kid. Two things I don't get. Anyhoo, she was bugging the crap out of me because I could see her bugging the coaches. I pulled her off the field at one point because I couldn't take it. I'm glad she wants to learn and blah, blah, blah but for GOD'S SAKE, quit being a pain in the ass. We had a nice long talk about sportsmanship and being a good team member. Hope it works.

So, Sunday rolls around and we go to a carnival at the university next to our house. I know this is difficult to believe but I HATE CARNIVALS. My OCD tendencies go into overdrive. I can't take the filth. There is also the one eyed man leering at my children and the obese woman screaming at the kids that push me to my breaking point. The kids had fun. At one point C. got stuck in a jungle gym with balls and ropes and tunnels. Of course, I had to go in. I got stuck. I felt like Pooh Bear stuck in the hole. By the time I reached him he was unstuck and having a great time. I , however still had to get out.

Finally I volunteered to help my friend take twelve 8-year old boys to a birthday party at the Laser Tag place. I don't think I need to go into an explanation about what a living hell that was.

But I made it. Next weekend I get to do it all over again.

A Boy and His Dog

Walking home from school today C. and I had an interesting conversation.

C: I was like Dukie today.
Me: Oh, how's that?
C: I peed in the bushes.
Me: What?
C: At school, I peed in the bushes. Dukie pees in the bushes and I want to be like Dukie.
Me: Did anyone see you?
C: All the boys. I showed them how to do that.
Me: (speechless)
C: Now me and Dukie can pee together.
Me: (speechless)

Dukie also eats his own vomit, raids the trash can and drinks out of the toilet. I hope peeing outside is the only thing C. emulates.