Sugar Mommy

Why Bug is my favorite right now

2008-07-19T11:53:00.003-05:00

Since my surgery, the boys have been all about gallbladders, the digestive system and just anatomy in general. So, last weekend, I bought them one of those science books about the human body with sections on muscles, nerves, different systems, the brain, skin, etc. And it has those cool overlays and really great descriptions and explanations of the various parts of the body. All three kids have been poring over it daily.

So, the other night, SD and I were looking through the book with them and they came to the section about the brain. We were talking about how different parts of the brain control different parts of the body and its functions. SD told them about how the front lobe controls personality and, essentially, about frontal lobotomies. How doctors do this (albeit RARELY) to "cure" sever mental/personality disorders.

Then SugarBug - totally seriously - says, "Is that what happened to you, Daddy?"

Perspective

2008-07-18T08:30:00.001-05:00

You know, no matter how many lost wallets, extracted gall bladders, screaming kids, marital issues and other crap I have endured, never in all my days have I had to deal with what Lisa has had to deal with today. Never have I had to contemplate telling my children and everyone else that I love that I, most likely, am dying. AND? That while I am getting sicker and sicker I don't know how we will afford to put food on the table or a roof over our heads. It is a nightmare that I can't even let myself imagine. And yet, Lisa is living it. Right. now.

And to make things even more unbearable, someone is trying to take advantage of her situation to make himself look good. How is it that parasites like this are allowed to continue existing on this planet? Incomprehensible. And disgusting. That's what that is.

I apologize for every single time I have complained about my life. Because my life is amazing and comfortable and healthy and carefree and wonderful. I wouldn't trade this life or these people for anything in the world. So to those who might not be sure, know this: I love you. I appreciate you. I will not take any of you or any day God has given me for granted.

If there is any way you can help Lisa and her family through this, please try. Even if all you can afford is prayers, I'm sure that they would be welcome. Isn't that what we are all here for? To support each other?

THIS IS NOT A DRILL

2008-07-15T21:00:00.003-05:00

ATTENTION ALL CANDYLAND HUSBANDS:

Four days until your wife's birthday. You still have time to get her a great gift! She has even made it SUPER EASY for you by putting her Wishpot wishlist in the sidebar over there ----->

Click on that or go to the site. Buy one of the many wonderful things she has expressed an interest in having. The sparkly, ones for the ears will get you lots of good karma. (If that's what the kids are calling it nowadays) (Not OUR kids....::shudder::)

Act now before it's too late!!!!!

(attention all IRL friends of Candyland. Help SugarDaddy out here & remind him. No excuses!)

(All the rest of you: Go check out Wishpot.com. It's a really, really cool way to get your wishlist going or keep track of those things you find on the interwebs and then wonder, Now where did I see that?)

How to make an ass of yourself for three days solid (A Step-By-Step Guide)

2008-07-14T14:17:00.004-05:00

Go to get your haircut.
and one for your daughter.
When it's time to pay, realize that you must have left your wallet in the car.
Go look in car.
Realize that you must - for some unknown reason (probably those rotten boys) - have taken your wallet out at home and left it.
Go back in hair place, offer to leave daughter as collateral and run home (with daughter since the hair ladies are terribly trusting) and tear house apart (as well as car).
FREAK THE HELL OUT because you can't find your wallet.
Call CVS to see if you could have possibly left your wallet there when you went to get (yes, ashamedly) Hairstyle magazines.
FREAK OUT EVEN MORE because the lady says your wallet isn't there.
Dig out the credit card that you were going to stop using from the desk drawer so that you can go back and pay for the haircuts (which, incidentally, was possibly the worst haircut you have ever received and make note to self to never, ever get hair cut at "Kidz Kutz" ever again).
Consider very real possibility that some kid at the hair place took the wallet from your purse during the 29 seconds you turned your back to talk to lady cutting daughter's hair (which, incidentally was the most fantastic haircut ever - maybe THAT lady could cut your hair)
Pick boys up from kind friend's house and see if there is any chance that you took your purse in for the 5 minutes you were there dropping boys off and left your wallet.
Of course not.
Drag everyone home and bribe them all with $5 for who ever finds the wallet.
No dice.
Admit to husband that though yes, that very day, he escorted you to get a new military ID because you had lost yours just days before, you have now lost your wallet (containing new ID) and it was most likely stolen from some little hoodlum at Kidz Kutz.
Consider the very real possibility that the UNIVERSE IS FUCKING WITH YOU.
Wait for husband to come home and look for your wallet because he is always great at finding lost things.
Still. no. wallet.
Call all credit card companies to report stolen cards.
Call bank to report stolen ATM cards (yes there were 2)
Contact credit bureaus to flag your & husbands SSNs because they are on (brand freakin' new) military ID.
Realize that there was a $25 Old Navy gift card, $5 Starbucks card about $85 in cash in stolen wallet. Fucking hoodlum.
Realize that only good news is that drivers license was NOT in wallet because you'd had it out all week to get on base w/ the temp pass while husband was TDY (out of town).
Apologize to husband 900 times for losing wallet even though he is being very gracious and kind - which couldn't be easy for him - about the whole situation.
Sulk, bitch and moan all day Saturday about the little hoodlum who took your wallet even though you know that it won't do any good.
Go to Sunday School even though you're still feeling sore & crappy from surgery and grouchy about lost wallet.
Yell at children who ask for offering money because ALL OF MY MONEY WAS IN MY WALLET you foolish children!
Come home from Sunday School to discover a message on your voicemail from the manager at CVS.
Call and discover that your wallet was at CVS all this time, locked in the safe, but that they stupid girl that you AND husband talked to wouldn't even go to the trouble of asking her boss if a wallet was found.
Resist urge to curse stupid, stupid girl once you realize that if you had half a brain then you would have put the wallet in your purse and not left it on the counter by the register.
What the hell is wrong with you anyway?
Throw a big "I found my wallet" Party all day long. (Okay, that's an exaggeration. Perhaps what is closer to the truth is call your best friend and sing the "I found my wallet" happy song and make a total fool of yourself.)
Still believe that the universe was fucking with you because, COME ON.

A Poem for that "friend" who just won't go the hell away

2008-07-09T15:00:00.001-05:00

Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow.

Don't walk behind me, I may not lead.

Just walk the other direction and get the fuck out of here already.

Geez, take a hint.

Deep Thoughts from SugarBear

2008-07-08T22:17:00.001-05:00

I wasn't sure how to interpret this, but it was so sweet and awfully wise for a seven-year-old.

Mommy, I can't wait until I have grandkids.

You'll have to be a Daddy, first, Bear. You'll be such a good Daddy.

Yeah, but when I'm a Granddaddy I can really play with my grandkids and just have fun. That'll be good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How sweet is this kid?!

Thanks to all of you for your prayers, comments, and nice emails. I'm getting better every day. Still pretty exhausted though. New post tomorrow...or sometime soon....

Happy Independence Day!

2008-07-04T12:57:00.002-05:00

I shall go celebrate by taking a Vicodin and a nap.

Be safe all of you!

Home again, home again jiggety-OOMPH

2008-07-03T17:29:00.003-05:00

Well, I am home and without gall bladder. I hurt like hell, but not anywhere NEAR as bad as I was afraid I'd feel, so at least there's that. I will tell you all about it later, but for now I am going to take some more drugs and lie down.

Thank you all for the prayers. I've no doubt that they helped unbelievably!

Hugs & kisses to you all!

Say a little prayer for me...

2008-07-02T17:30:00.008-05:00

Well, it's official. I am going to the hospital at 6:30 tomorrow morning to have my gallbladder removed. I am a little anxious, but I'm so ready to have this over with that I'm just relieved. Maybe I'm just fooling myself though, because I have been queasy and irritable all day. I don't like letting myself get all spun up over things like this. I don't think I slept but maybe 2 hours last night. I'm hoping that will work in my favor tonight & I will be so exhausted that I'll just pass out. 5:45 is going to come early, no matter what.

That said, Holli's pictures today reminded me that I have wanted to share these pictures I took on Father's Day (after the water balloon fight) of this very tiny praying mantis. Seriously, he couldn't have been more than an inch long but he was just so dang cool. Getting the shots was kind of difficult because he was so tiny. My auto-focus kept focusing on the trees or the roof in the background. But if I turned off the auto-focus, I couldn't get him at all. I did manage a couple of cool shots though.

by this point the little guy had had enough & was trying to flee the paparazzi thing I had going on

So, if you don't mind, if you have minute on Thursday, take a cue from the tiny, little, green guy up there and say a quick prayer for me and my surgeon! Much appreciated!

Soon to be gall(bladder)-less

2008-07-01T08:53:00.000-05:00

Okay, so I saw the surgeon today. I sat for over an hour in the waiting room and yes, I was a leeetle pissy about that. I may have posted a slightly nasty Twitter about that way. Yet minutes later, I was back in the exam room with the surgeon, all was forgiven.

I am officially declaring my love for Dr. Gallbladder.

She had already read my records and looked at my ultrasound (okay, this may not seem like a big deal to you, but realize that I am accustomed to the military health care system and...well, let's just say that, while there are some really great doctors, there are some truly, ridiculously clueless and horrible "physicians" who walk into the room and say "Hey how's it going?" Yes, I'm serious.) and came in prepared to to talk with me about my options. Which, pretty much "suck it up and deal with it" or "get that sucker outa there!"

She reviewed the function (and MALfuction) of the gallbladder and then went over the surgery veeerrry thoroughly. She actually answered the only question I had (after my over-researching it with Dr Google) and she left me feeling very confident and secure about this.

She asked when I was wanting to have it out. I told her the sooner the better. So? It looks like it should be Thursday. Yes, THIS Thursday. My own little Independence Day! Woo hoo!! (assuming the hospital and insurance all agree) (which is a HUGE assumption)

So, listen up you crappy malfunctioning little organ in there: Your days are numbered! Two to be exact. Say your good-byes because it's the end of the line for you, you pain causing jerk!!

(You realize I have totally jinxed myself and now this won't be out until sometime in November, right?)

I've Got a Lotta Gall (stones)

2008-06-27T07:53:00.001-05:00

I have been bitching on Twitter about this for a while now. And now I am subjecting you to it. Because I think my Tweeps may be sick of hearing about it. Lucky you.

While I was pregnant with Bear (7 1/2 years ago!) I found out from the sonographer I had at least one BIG gallstone. (seriously, the guy was like, "WOW! wouldja look at that!) Later on, I was told that I have several. I have asked doctors about this over the years and have been told that if they aren't giving me any problems, then I should just not worry about it. So, while it has remained in the back of my mind for all this time.

Until lately.

When I was visiting the Jackalords recently, I had trouble sleeping one night. I had this weird pain in my back. And sort of in my chest. It kinda felt like when you've drank too much soda all at once and you need to burp. Only you can't. So it hurts. But, I took some Motrin (and maybe some Xanax) and all was well.

For a few days.

Then just after Fathers' Day, the pain was back. With a vengeance. That Monday, I woke up SICK. SD stayed home for part of the morning until I started feeling better. Also, because SP started this sports conditioning camp & I certainly couldn't drive her there. I felt okay by mid-morning except that the pain was back in my back & chest AND it was now wrapping around my ribcage and shooting down my spine. My mind started racing...heart attack? Not likely- it was on the right side. Reflux? Didn't really feel like that. Anxiety attack? Nope. Still there after Xanax. Hypochondriac? There you go.

First I asked my Twitter buddies, and, while concerned, they didn't really have any solid answers other than GO TO THE DOCTOR ALREADY, Sicky McWhinypants!

So, I asked Dr. Google. And realized, DUH! Gallbladder!

Then, I DID call the doctor. On Tuesday. And again on Wednesday. And I finally got in on Thursday. I was told if it was so bad I needed to get in NOW? I could go to the ER. Hmph. Though they did have me go ahead and have my blood work done so that the doc could see the results as soon as I got there. "We're so sorry you feel like total shit. HEY! I know! You can go and have a needle stuck in your arm & three vials of blood drawn! FUN!"

By Thursday, I was unable to eat much more than toast, crackers, plain pasta...pretty much the Anti-Atkins diet. Also, you could FEEL my gallbladder bulging out of my abdomen. Oh, yeah, that was pleasant. My blood work all came back good, so I didn't have a blockage or an infection. Good. The doctor told me that it was probably my gallbladder. (!) And that he would put in a surgical consult. Also, I should head over to radiology and have an ultrasound. Now.

So, I bop on over to radiology (oh, yes I was ALL ABOUT bopping) and walked up to the check in window. I handed the guy my ID (USAF hospital) and said that I was there for an ultrasound. He looked at me funny and said, "We're not doing those today."

WTF?

I told him that this was rather urgent and he said that I'd have to go to the little office next door and make an appointment because they didn't have a sonographer today. (So glad I wasn't having a heart attack, "Sorry, we're not doing CPR today.") So I signed the sheet and sat down to WAIT to make an appointment for an urgent ultrasound. Finally the appointment lady came back (smoke break?) and said that she could get me in...WEDNESDAY. Um, no. Weeelllll, she could probably squeeze me in early Monday morning but that was it because the sonographer was gone till Monday. If I needed it before then...go to the ER. *sigh*

I spent a fairly miserable weekend at home. Though Saturday, I did manage to get several loads of laundry done that had piled up during the week. Then, Sunday, I was a big crying mess because I hurt so bad. SD took me to the ER. Where they drew more blood and told me that my blood pressure was a little high. No kidding? Pain. Heard of it? The ER doc thought that maybe I had indigestion (seriously) and had me drink the nastiest concoction I have every tasted. Maalox, viscous lidocaine, and some other nasty shit that almost made me throw up just from the horribleness of it. And - no surprise - my gallbladder still hurt. (seriously, why won't these people listen to me? I am always right!) But my digestive tract was numb. Good times. Oh, and he said that he didn't want to give me any more medication than I already had. I could take Fioricet (which I already have) for the pain. Asshole. I think that gallbladder pain deserves at least a little Vicodin. Just in case. Right?

Monday, I had the ultrasound. The nurse called me that afternoon (while I was napping) to tell me that I had gallstones (!) and that some were in my bile duct, so that was why I was having pain. Also, to be sure to keep my appointment with the surgeon. (As. if.) Which I didn't have yet. So...I called the referral fairies (seriously, it's like they are magic or something) and they told me...eventually, that my referral had been sent up to the base surgeon (who is leaving soon) and that he would review it. If he couldn't do it, then he would send it back to them and they would send me off base. I should call back THE MIDDLE OF NEXT WEEK to find out.

Um, no.

I wasn't waiting to have a mole removed. I have an internal organ that is malfunctioning. I need something ASAP. I finally got through to the surgeon yesterday and my appointment is Monday. Seriously. That's the best they could do.

The irony is that right now, I am feeling pretty good, all things considered. I have eaten supper two nights in a row now. And not just toast. REAL food. I had a burger last night and we went out for Italian tonight. I have been SO HUNGRY. I figure, either I finally am not hungry & am okay, or my gallbladder starts to freak out, I have emergency surgery and finally get that fucker out! It's a WIN-WIN!

And if you have lasted through this whole long-winded post YOU deserve some Vicodin, too.

Thoughts while perusing my 20 Year HS Reunion Website

2008-06-24T15:22:00.000-05:00

* Oh, look! She finally got married. Bless her heart.
* WOW! He's lost ALL of his hair in the past ten years!
* Wonder if she's still a bitch....of course she is.
* So glad to see that they are still married. They were always my favorite couple.
* LOOK! She has a blog! AND she Twitters!
* Really? He's married? To a GIRL? I would have bet it all that he was gay.
* Holy shit! SEVEN KIDS?
* Damn, he still looks good.
* She alive? I would swear I heard that she OD'd.
* He invented THAT? I knew I should have gone out with him when he asked.
* Oh, dear...still has that 80's hair doesn't she?
* Who the hell is that? I don't remember her at all.
* Wow. He reproduced? How unfortunate.
* Really? Posted your prom picture? Not your best moment, hon.
* Aw, cute kids! Wait. She has a 21 year old? That means that during senior year, she...hmmm. I have no memory of that.
* He made parole? Scary.
* She was always so skinny! No fair!
* Mmmmm. He still looks like Jason Bateman!
* I can't look at her with out hearing her sad, sad performance of Total Eclipse of the Heart in my head. Make it stop!!!

Oh, yes it also occurred to me that perhaps, MAYBE I have become a bit of a judgemental bitch. But let's keep that to ourselves, shall we?

She's 29! Again!

2008-06-23T16:33:00.002-05:00

Haaaaaappppppy Birthday to you!

Happy Birthday to you!

Happy Birthday...

Chiquita Rosita Banana (who is NOT Yvonne's daughter!!!)

Hhaaaaaaaaapppppppyyyyyyyyyy

Birthday to YOOOUUUUU!!! (cha cha cha) <----- this is from Bug)

Happy Birthday my beautiful, precious friend. You have seen me thru years and years and years and years (okay, I'll let it go now) of joy and pain. I can't imagine my life without you! I love you soooo, much.

All I need is a jury full of moms....

2008-06-19T23:32:00.001-05:00

This is what happens when I am trapped in the car with a five- and seven-year-old boy. Consider that this was all in the time it takes to get from Wal-Mart (*sigh* I KNOW, right?) to home. Not. that. long.....unless you're in the car with Abbot & Costello here:

Hey Bug! Knock, knock!

Who's there?

Knock Knock!

Who's there?

Knock Knock!

Who's there?

Banana

Banana Who?

Aren't you glad I didn't say Knock Knock again?!

Hahahahaha1 Hahahaha! heeee! heeeee! heee! hoo!!!

Boy that was funny, huh?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey, Bear Look! There's a flying monkey....oops! it's gone!

Look, there's ANOTHER flying monkey! Oh, there it went!

Oh! There's a spider on your forehead

::Bear smacks his forehead::

*^*^*^uncontrollable laughter*^*^*^

Hey Bug, YOU have a spider....

On my forehead?

No! On your FIVEhead!!!!

*^*^*^uncontrollable laughter*^*^*^*

Look! There's something on your fivehead!

No! YOU have something on your SIXhead!

HA! HA! You have something on your SEVEN head!

Ka-PLOWEEEEE! (this was the sound of my head exploding)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

::whispering::Hey Bear! Bootie!

{giggling}

::slightly louder whisper::Hey Bug! Bootie!

Me: Boys! Cut it out!!!

{more giggling}

Doodie!

Doodie!

DOOOOODIE!

BOYS!!!!!!!

We weren't saying bootie!

ahahahahhahahahahaa!!!!!!!!

Bootie doodie pootie flootie!!!!!!!!!

~
~
~
~
~
~

and then I had to kill them.

The language of my insanity

2008-06-18T16:47:00.001-05:00

I've been contemplating my depression and all its facets. No, I'm okay right now, really!, just being introspective. Sometimes I wonder what it means when you realize you are crazy. Does it mean that you are reeeaaalllly crazy or does it mean that the meds are working you have gotten enough better to SEE that you are crazy & how bad you WERE? Does this even make sense?

Probably not. When I started writing this post, I said that I was okay. But I think that I was very much NOT okay, because the next day, I was having a "discussion" with SD and ended up shaking up my big bottle of crazy and spewing it all over him. It actually ended up being a good thing, though at the time, I am almost certain that he considered calling the men in the white coats. More than once. But by the end of my incoherent rant (which differs from my blog posts how?), I felt much better having given voice & words to the depression and anxiety that I have been dealing with over the past several years. It ebbs and flows, my depression. I mentioned possibly being bipolar a few weeks ago. I really don't think that I am. But I do think that I cycle in and out of depression quite often. I just don't get the "manic" parts of bi-polar. No, I still haven't talked to Dr. C about this because...well, I suppose because I still am not sure I can handle the answer.

Anyway, these are the words that I have associated my depression & anxiety. (How much more of a downer could I be?)

despair
alone
overwhelmed
dark
helpless
agitated
ashamed
pit
hopeless
anxious
ache
sleepless
exhausted
empty
numb
hurt
fatigue
pretending
smoldering
unfocused
disappointing
angry
stress
blurry
crazy
inadequate
difficult
medicated
moody
distracted
insane
trying
misunderstood
spinning
ill
brain
dying
low
over-stimulated
sensory deprivation
messy
apathy
misunderstand
suffering
distorted
cloudy
worthless
incapable
dishonest
black
lifeline
adrift
entangled
pathological
joyless
abyss
reason (or lack of)
rain
undeserving
bottomless
falling
regret
frustrated
disorder
therapy
fear
lost

**As an aside, does anyone know how I could have made this list into two columns? I couldn't figure it out and it about pushed me over the edge (just kidding)!

War is Hell (Fathers Day was pretty awesome, though)

2008-06-15T22:06:00.000-05:00

So. Fathers' Day. It kicked ass. The kids actually gave SugarDaddy his gift on Saturday. They gave him....a water gun fight. We gave him a big bag filled with five water guns. Yes, folks FIVE. He got the big gun (insert obvious joke here) and we each got a smaller gun. As you see, he was merciless.

And yet, he got almost as good as he gave.

But it was every man for himself. And Daddy had no mercy for any sweet SugarBaby. Or for Mommy. However, since I a) was the one holding the camera AND b) at this point wearing a white cotton tank top - a WET white cotton tank top - I was not included in the photos. Pity.

However a good time was had by all. Especially SugarDaddy, who declared it the Best Fathers' Day EVER. (Even if it was a day early).

Look at these rouges. It's like Bonnie & Clyde. And Darryl & Darryl.

You know, the last few weeks have been rough. I know I have whined before, but marriage is HARD. And sometimes, it's almost too hard. But somehow, we both decide that it's worth it and we keep on plugging. And it is worth it. Because you can see that he is, quite possibly, the BEST DADDY IN THE WORLD. (and I should know because I grew up with the best Daddy in the world - who set the bar REALLY HIGH.) He really does all he can to show these sweet kiddos that they are loved thoroughly and unconditionally. And I am trying harder every day to show HIM how much I love him and that I am listening and trying to do the things he as expressed as being important to him. And he is doing the same for me.

So, SugarDaddy - Thank you for being the Daddy our children deserve. And thank you for sticking with me through all the hard parts. I am looking forward to celebrating Grandparents Day with you. A LOOOOONG time from now. I love you. More than ever.

No funny today

2008-06-10T16:42:00.002-05:00

I just received some sobering and devastating news. And it's making me count my blessings at a time when I have really been feeling less than blessed. God has a way of smacking you upside the head, sometimes, doesn't he?

Not long before we moved to England, a good friend of ours who was already stationed there, lost her husband in a one-person car accident. He had just returned from months of fighting in Kosovo and they had two small children, one was two and the other about four months old. It was life shattering to say the least.

But my friend moved back close to her home where there was an Air Force Base, and began to rebuild her life. A couple of years later, she met and married a lovely, sweet man who was a doctor. He was the perfect husband for her and a wonderful daddy to her children. He was a blessing to their lives.

In order to move up in his chosen field, my friend and her new husband moved their family to a place where he could receive training and become even more accomplished in his field. They had another baby, giving them, all together, four kids. They were very happy.

Then this precious man learned he had cancer.

Through a mutual friend, we were kept in the loop about how this sweet man and his family were doing and lately, it wasn't looking good. And today, I got an email from my friend the her husband passed away yesterday. I can't fathom the pain that she feels. She is only 34 years old and has buried two husbands. Her kids have lost two daddies. How do you explain that to yourself, much less an 11 and 9 year old?

My heart aches almost more than I can take for my friend. And I feel petty and ridiculous about the complaints I have had with my life considering we are all healthy and vibrant.

Please keep my friend Kim and her family in your prayers. And go hug and kiss your kids and husband or wife. Be sure you say I love you. Because you never, ever know when it will be the last time.

UPDATED! Why didn't I have my camera? WHY? WHY? WHY?

2008-06-09T16:21:00.004-05:00

Okay, y'all, seriously. I'm still laughing about this.

As I was driving home from our little adventure yesterday, I espied something that I have seen a zillion times, yet never really noticed. And people, it was HI-Larry-OUS!

So, as we are zipping down the highway, I glance over at the XXX Outlet <-----actual name of the place, not a euphemism or anything, I swear. The XXX Outlet is a store advertises that you can get, well, pretty much what you would expect of an establishment whose name is XXX. And at OUTLET PRICES! This is NOT what made me laugh. What made me laugh is the sign immediately next door to XXX Outlet. The sign that read: World's Best Beef Jerky!

And all I could think was, "Yeah, I'll bet."

After telling SD about this, he reminded me of the time we were driving the same route and, a few miles past the XXX Outlet, we passed the "Adult Bookstore"<---------also the real name, marketing GENIUS, right?! The sign outside the Adult Bookstore read: COME IN FOR OUR SPRING BLOW OUT!

Diet Coke came out my nose. Yes, as I've said before, I am a 12 year old boy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
UPDATE:

Okay, I was feeling all sad and depressed and then I received a comment from Belinda at Ninja Poodles which pointed me to THIS PICTURE. And now I may be laughing for the next four hours. Damn her. I really need to get some sleep.

Yeah, a list post. Because it's too hot for paragraphs.

2008-06-02T09:43:00.000-05:00

The past two weeks have been truly insane around here for lots of reasons.
Last weekend was Bug & Bear's birthday party and it went well. NINETEEN children were in my backyard, armed with water guns, water balloons, and other weapons of mass (lawn) destruction. A good time was had by all.
And then we all passed out.
Last week was Bear & SP's last week of school. I attended the awards ceremonies for both children. Which is always a bucket of fun.
Though both kids DID get certificates for All 'A' Honor Roll. (patting self on back even though I had very little to do with it).
Bug is on a bit of a tear. And by "a bit of a tear" I mean the child has been a little shit -testing every limit that we have EVER established and falling to the ground screaming when I enforce said limits. Yesterday was the real corker though because he threw a big stinking fit during children's church and our children's minister had to come get me out of the church service. Oh, I was furious. But I did hold it together enough to not yell at him. I didn't even cuss!
I'm a little freaked out because Bug is no longer a "preschooler" AND SugarPlum is no longer an elementary school student. I have a child in junior high. That's just wrong.
I got notification of my 20 year HS reunion. THAT is seriously fucked up. I am definitely not old enough to have been out of high school for 20 years.
I am officially addicted to Twitter. And it is pissing me off because it has been seriously jacked up lately. That flying whale is officially my least favorite thing to see now.
I saw this "Cuss-o-Meter on somebody's site (can't tell you who any more). It looks at the first page of a blog and gives you the percentage of cussing yours has compared to other pages on the web. So, mine? 0% Zero. Percent. That is fucking unacceptable.
I finally watched last week's episode of "Top Chef" and was dismayed that my secret crush, Spike, had to pack his knives and go.
I am consoled only by the fact that "So You Think You Can Dance" is back. I love me some Nigel Lithgow! (And Tice DiOrio is really nice to look at, too)
Have twice answered the phone this weekend and impressively restrained myself from saying, "Are you fucking kidding me?" Really, you wouldn't believe how much self-control that took.
Finally, my favorite kid-quote of the month: "For breakfast I want a fried egg. No, wait, Mommy. I want a Mond Egg. And tomorrow, I want a Tuesd Egg." Silly boys.

That ought to bump me up on the cuss-o-meter!

Seven, count 'em, SEVEN candles!

2008-05-31T23:11:00.002-05:00

My birthday boy (and his chocolate truffle birthday cake...guess who picked that out!)
All in one breath!

Mmmm! Tasty!

Feeling Yummy?

2008-05-30T13:26:00.005-05:00

I asked, practically begged , Mother Talk to review this book. I am hoping to soon start "studying" under a friend of mine who is a doula and to take some classes to start me in that direction as well as to be come a lactation consultant. This doesn't come as news to anyone who has read here for very long at all. I've talked of it often. In addition, I am really interested in becoming certified to teach family life education classes - parenting, child development, etc.

I thought that Anna Johnson's The Yummy Mummy Manifesto would make an excellent addition to my library for new moms. It's quirky, it's fun. This is no What to Expect... book by any means. Unless, of course, it's maybe What to Expect when Carrie Bradshaw is Expecting. Written by the Fug Girls.

I'll be honest. I cannot see myself as a "Yummy Mummy." But I can use what Anna Johnson has to say as a starting place to finding my way out of the frump that I sometimes find myself in. Oh, come on, you've been there, too. We wear our uniforms - jeans and a t-shirt, and our hair "styles," my current fave is the "two days unwashed with a bandana tying it up" style. You know, just like Katie Holmes and J Lo. Heh. Is this how I WANT to look? No, but most days, it's as good as it gets. Johnson encourages moms to forgo the "uniform" and indulge yourself with sexy accessories, soft textures, etc. She also points out that if you MUST wear a t-shirt that crew necks are flattering to very few women. I haven't put this to the test yet, but I have found myself wearing more v-necks and button down shirts, so there is that.

Her chapters directed toward pregnant women are unlike any I've ever seen. Her chapter "Confessions if the Horny Pear" is well, just what you think it is. I can't say that this is a phenomenon I ever experienced. Once I was past the puking stage, I felt big as a house and not sexual at all. But I have had friends who were very, um, amorous, during pregnancy and thought that it was weird. Evidently, it's not. And the author encourages moms to indulge that desire! And I'm all for it. (But if you aren't feeling this way, do not, whatever you do, let your husband read this chapter. You'll never hear the end of it.)

She has a section on the pregnant bride - "The Bride Wore Stretch Lace." And a fantastic chapter on baby names. (Her son's name is Marcello. How awesome is THAT?!) As well as the obligatory chapters on what to eat, what to take to the hospital, actual childbirth and breastfeeding. Though, all of these chapters have a certain edge and candor to them that set the book apart from all others.

As I mentioned, she talks a great deal about mommy fashion. And I find some of her advice a little far fetched for those of us not living in Manhattan, LA or other trendy, major metropolitan areas. Yes, of course, wearing a cute, short skirt with a low cut blouse and push-up bra can do wonders for your self esteem. But in most of the little military towns where I have lived most of my married life, I would feel like I was headed to a costume party. (Okay, I will admit that in the past year, I have become a huge fan of the push-up bra. Mostly because when you have as little up front as I do, a little padding & pushing up does wonders for your self confidence). What I HAVE chosen to do is use this as a starting place to evaluate myself before I leave the house. Am I just "getting by?" Or am I looking the best that I can, appropriate to the situation? Because the stained t-shirt and sweats are doing nothing for me. Short of evoking pity.

But all in all? This book is brilliant. She discusses candidly and logically(!) key mommy sore-points such as house keeping, fighting with your spouse, dealing with the day-to-day drudgery that is parenting, finances...you name it. Just reading the table of contents will make you giggle:Morning Sick in Manolos: Finding your feet & holding your ground; Breastfeeding: Going with the flow; Crafts: For Women Who Hate Them; How Old is a Young Mother? The knees are going but the rebellion carries on. Okay, I won't give them all to you. Go get this book for yourself. Even if (like me) your youngest is five. Because what you read might change your life. Or at least make you smile.

originations peltately

2008-05-26T08:26:00.003-05:00

I almost NEVER open my spam messages. As I have said before, I have no interest in purchasing anything, work for, or receive an education from anyone who sends out the same email to eleventy gazillion people at a time. HOWEVER soemetimes the weird "Bot" messages that come through just pique my curiosity, only for the WILD word choices. Especially in the title.

Today, this one cracked me out. Maybe comtemplating Bug's last day of school is more than I could handle & I'm just slap happy now. Who knows....

From:armore Draggett

to me

re:originations peltately

God dag,

My photo attachhed! <------ there was a photo attachment but I'm not so foolish as to DOWNLOAD anything from a spammer.

Look what I do!!!

You can too <------- This was a link. No freakin way I'm following that.

And these he suppresses insomuch that the servant and stones of lapis lazuli. Grasping that fierce animal life in all its forms, human existence, and cowards on the other. That
is it, sir nothing visible effort, as if the table had tried to hold tadousac and quebec, and every one has recognized there is a cry overhead and the figure of madeleine epist. ii. 1, 50. Simul ut: rare in cic., see may be obtained from friends.499 in consequence of the campaign, in which he had politely dubbed lying about, with arrows of golden wings scattered mancipation becomes his and in consequence thereof foremost of regenerate persons, filled with wrath, centre of the semicircle bounding my view, and of barbed wire, overturned carts, broken branches.

It's like poetry right? So romantic. ...."scattered emancipation......regenerate persons filled with wrath." It's enough to make you cry, isn't it?

Pomp & Extenuating Circumstances

2008-05-22T21:09:00.004-05:00

This year, I did a wacky thing, I put Bug into two different preschools. I decided that after my whole single-parenting experiment last year, I needed for Bug to be in school every day. We had a little too much one-on-one time.

I work at our church's Mother's Day Out on Thursdays and Bug went to preschool there last year Tuesday/Thursday. Since I work there, I get discounted tuition for Bug - $45 a month. 9:30 - 2:30. Can't pass that up! But....it's only two days a week.

So, I got him into a preschool that is just down the street from our house. MWF 9-2. YAY! That pretty much freed up my week. In theory. Except that having more time in your week is sorta like having more storage in your house. It always gets filled up. ALWAYS. But at least I was able to do all that stuff sans kids. (Okay, so maybe a good chunk of that time was taken up by NAPS some ~~weeks~~days. Do I make YOU justify YOUR time?)

IS there a point to all of this?

Um, yes.

See, two preschools = two preschool graduations.

Preschool graduations are something that I have a tough time justifying. They are TOTALLY for the parents. Sorta like, "We'd better get our money's worth out of this preschool. HEY! A diploma!" The kids have no idea why they are wearing the funny cap & gown. (One little boy in Bug's class had a COW over wearing a gown. Only girls wear gowns, he told us.) They stand up there and sing their cute little songs, we watch a slide show, we cry, the kids walk up onto the "stage" and get their diploma and then we get cake. Really, it's all about the cake.

Let me just say that I am SO glad that they don't make the whole high school and college graduates sing at their ceremonies. Can you imagine?! What would they sing? No, don't answer that.

SD swears that he remembers his preschool graduation. I don't. I'm not certain I even went to preschool. I'll have to ask Gram about that.

Tonight, we went to the first graduation. Bug was, predictably, adorable. He did some little class clown thing on the stage while they were singing. He's lucky he's cute. Then? CAKE! And? More cake!! Then we had to get them home and to bed. Which is so easy when they are all sugared up on cake. But to sleep they must go because tomorrow....

Graduation #2!

At least it's in the morning. 9:30 in the morning. And then? The after-party! Yes, you read that right. A graduation after party. For preschoolers. That's madness, right? What are they going to do? Slam Capri Suns? Do Jello Shots? With ACTUAL JELLO? I don't really worry too much about make out sessions - you know since girls are gross and all.

Anyway, I'm sure I'll have an interesting update with pictures. Since I really can't seem to come up with a good enough excuse to get out of it. And keep an eye on Twitter. I'm sure I'll have plenty of snark to share!

He keeps saying, "It's My Birthday!!"

2008-05-21T14:44:00.003-05:00

This is what a five year old looks like.

Then again, so is this....

Happy Birthday, my Buggy Boy!

TMI doesn't even BEGIN to describe this post.

2008-05-20T08:20:00.000-05:00

So, I had a realization the other day. A horribly embarrassing realization. About a trip to Target. And my period. (Really this is so TMI, I am truly horrified. Yet, I feel compelled to share. And it's too long to put on Twitter, dammit)

I am terrible at remembering when my period is due. SD can tell with uncanny accuracy. As can my children, most likely. I have too many other things to think about. Like ears, bathroom antics and whether or not I have a legitimate mental illness** (as opposed to an illegitimate mental illness)(you, in the back there, hush). I sometimes find myself wondering if, perhaps, I should be on the lookout for Aunt Flo.

Heh.

Looking back, I see that it couldn't have been more obvious. I was at Target walking around, seeking great deals (as you do). By the time I checked out, I placed on the conveyor belt: one bag of Jamaican Jerk potato chips, one bag of Wasabi Mustard potato chips, one bag of Salt & Vinegar potato chips (yes, really), one bag of Sweet & Salty Snack Mix, a box of Dove dark chocolate Promises, THREE tins of Wasabi & Soy roasted almonds, a Hersheys Extra-Dark chocolate bar, two 4-packs of Blood Orange Italian Soda, eight cans of Pomegranate Soda, and (wait for it) TWO BOXES of....tampons. <------all entirely true - I can provide a receipt if necessary.

And I had the nerve to be SURPRISED when I got my period a few days later!

Can you imagine the poor kid checking me out?! I practically had a neon sign atop my head that flashed "PMS." I'm not sure, but looking back, I think I may have heard a security alert issued about a "possibly unstable woman entering the parking lot....stay out of her way AT ALL COSTS!!"

But I'm feeling much better now.

**I think that this post should settle that question once and for all.