MY Birthday Wish List

Since my birthday is Saturday and I'm sure MOST of you have waited until the last minute to shop for the occasion, I thought I'd make it slightly easier and put out a LIST of appropriate and most desired gift items.

BIRTHDAY LIST 2007

The Super Hot Bread Delivery Guy from my store. This boy is a genuine MANSICLE and believe me he is EXACTLY what any woman would need on a hot summer day. Tight muscled body, a multitude of artful and tasteful tattoos, fabulous smile, shaved head and he's really nice! Sounds perfect, right? YES! So someone do me a favor and kidnap him for my birthday, he's very nice, just mention it's a temporary thing and it's for my birthday and he probably won't fight to much – which is good, I'd hate for him to have rope burn or be all tired out before I got him! Oh and don't drug him! I want him all peppy and full of energy upon arrival – I don't want to spend most of my time waiting for him to become conscious then explaining why he'd be naked in my bed room with comfortable restraints. So yeah, him and some whipped cream.

Super Sexy Geeky Comic Book Guy. Super sexy, fabulous eyes, great smile, shaved head (is that a theme for me?), sharp wit. Same rules as above – him and some whipped cream.

Vin Diesel. If I have to elaborate then you are dead. Same rules apply for him also. Mmmmm him and some whipped cream.

Bruce Willis - Oh damn, Mr. Die Hard himself. Same rules, him, LOTs of whipped cream locked in my bedroom.

Any combination of the above mentioned Mansicles. All four, three, just two, only one… whatever, you get the picture… or not… it's MY BIRTHDAY FANTASY, so stop thinking about it! (unless you are any of the mansicles listed above… then think about it… a lot… and call me.)

A new car. No not THIS, but I'd love THIS. Yes really, I've always wanted a hippy mobile minus the smelly hippys.

Some new TOYS would be lovely. And by TOYS I think you all know I mean BOBs (Battery Operated Boyfriends). THIS would be lovely or THIS or even THIS except I don't have an iPod so you'd have to buy one to go with it. (Links on side bar will help you shop for theses items!)

Rechargable Batteries. One woman can not have too many of these. ;) And if I kept them all charged all the time, then K wouldn't get pissed at me for stealing the batteries out of the TV remote. Oh Pu-lease, I have NEEDS, I won't be denied!

A new BOOK! I'm dieing for a copy of Stardust by Neil Gaimen (actually just about anything by him). And as long as you get me that, you might want to give me about 4 kid free quiet hours to read said book, k? Thanks!

A maid. Male, scantily clad with a totally hot body. He doesn't have to speak English, just clean well and look GOOD at it. And cook, he need to be able to cook. (dude, I can't find photos of that on the net so maybe they are like the Easter Bunny and Open Minded Republicans – just a myth!)

Starbucks. Coffee is ALWAYS the right answer.

Okay, you have the list now GO! GO! Out Shopping! Show your love for me with GIFTS!*

*note – don't buy me presents! Just tell me happy birthday. ;) Don't spend money on me!

Of course… if you DID happen to get any of the mansicles for me, I certainly wouldn't turn them away – I mean not after all that effort and all that would just be rude.

How To Amuse Tiny Terrorists



Ahhhh nothing like shooting videos to keep the offspring from killing each other... I think the sound is a little loud tough.

I Got Nothin’

That’s exactly it, I have NOTHING for you today. Which is really no different than any other day really, so what the hell, I’ll blog anyway!

Birthday Kvetch

I turn 36 on Saturday (fuck you to all of you who are all “Wow, I totally thought she was older than that!”) and I have no plans! Well let me clarify, I have LOTS of offers for things to do, none of them are what I really WANT to do. I have an offer to go see Hairspray with two lovely gay men and the offspring, I have an offer to go to the rennie gathering, I have offers from various hot male persons who want to take me to dinner/movie/bed/dessert/etc. Honestly I don’t really want to do any of that. Eh, I’ll probably stay home and do laundry. I know, I’m exciting. Oh yeah, I just discovered that the milk EXPIRES on my birthday... is that a SIGN? Eh, probably not, I don't drink milk anyway.

Another Reason To Continue Making Voodoo Dolls

K is leaving to go out of town on business. He’s leaving the day after my birthday and won’t be home until the 20th. So not only do I get a whole week with the offspring BY MY SELF, but his trip is over my Birthday party!

Enough said… I need more pins for this doll…

Laundry

Damn I hate doing laundry, and only because I have soooo damn much! Anyway, my love see is covered (as always) with clean laundry and my offspring are currently pretending the clean laundry is falling on them and eating them alive. Maybe I used too much fabric softener.

Disney Dreams

I’m thinking of bringing a class action lawsuit against Disney. Why? For all those damn movies I watched while growing up where the animals were helpful and helped the heroine clean house! I’ve been working relentlessly to teach my cats to help around the house and all I get from them is the occasional hairball thrown up on the floor. They are completely worthless. Anyone want to join me in my quest for justice from Disney induced delusions?

5 am Wake Up Call

I got up at 5 am today. On my day off, I got up at 5 am to walk around the park with a friend and my oldest progeny. That’s insane! I’ll do it again on Monday because, well I told her I would. What were you doing at 5 am this morning?

Okay, that’s all.. I told you I had nothing ;)

The Ridiculousness Of Casa De Karmically Challenged

Yesterday, about lunchtime I see Coco the Wonder Dog come striding out of the kitchen with a hot dog in her mouth. I voiced a question to both of my progeny, “Why does the dog have a HOT DOG?” The answer came from my youngest and least sane who scampered toward the kitchen with me in tow while saying, “I wanted to have hot dogs for lunch so I took them out!” Once in the kitchen I saw that indeed she had taken them out of the fridge, which leads me to say, “Cabbage Patch, we don’t put the hot dogs where the DOG can get them! Don’t put food on the step stool. Coco thinks it’s HER food.” And we wonder why the dog never eats her dog food.

Webkinz Mania

How fucking pathetic is this? K and I were both logged on to the Tiny Terrorists accounts playing games against each other for the past 30 minutes. I have to say, he’s a lot harder to beat at checkers than an 8 year old! Sheesh, at least I regained my honor by whipping his ass at their version of battle ship… and if the damn site hadn’t gotten bogged down, I’ll still be beating him down like a clown! And the best part? I won Webkinz money for Cabbage Patch’s horse! I’m such a GOOD MOM!

Day of Dorkitude

Yesterday was not only a LONG day for me but one fraught with dorkyness. But what can I say, I am the Duchess of Dorkdome. I locked up the bakery register and when I got someone to come fix it, it had apparently fixed it self (as it I just didn’t realize it wasn’t locked up), I couldn’t find my invoices for my deliveries for that day, I almost forgot to bake my bread, I made a lovely cake – the wrong freaking size! Then when I went home briefly I found out a friend is extremely pissed at me for something I did not do – I more than likely have completely lost the friendship (which is terribly painful to know), had to disappoint my children by telling them that they could not go swimming since I had to go to a meeting for work that night – I resorted to bribery to stop the tears, I’m not proud of it, but I did it. Whatever. That day is over. Today is a NEW DAY! And it’s RAINING! And my power has been flicker on and off! AND I got a $4 off coupon for a carton of cigarettes! How great is that? It’s not. I don’t smoke! Talk about the wrong target audience. Well I’m going to go drown my issues in a nice cup of coffee. Mmmmmm coffee, Starbucks coffee… almost as good as sex… ALMOST.

Terrorist Scout Trip



Saturday was quite the adventure. Mac Gyver and I took a trip to the hereto unheard of town of Frognot Texas. Why? Because we could. I haven’t watched the news but it’s quite possible that if you hear of possible terrorist activities in a small North Texas town, that might have been us. See we thought it would be really fabulous to take photos in Frognot, ya know to commemorate our grand adventure and prove to people that it does in fact exist – though the estimate population is something spectacular like I don’t know, 10 or 15. Anyway, at the point that we were stopped on the side of the highway taking photos of the water tower (because it has a frog on it) I realized that it was quite possible someone might think we were terrorists since we were taking photos of the local water supply. Mac Gyver and I laughed about this while stopping at a convenience store to get ice-cold beverages and I surmised that despite there being a few actual witnesses to our shady photography we were probably safe from detection. Reason being that as soon as anyone mentioned TERRORISTS the local yokels would automatically assume that to be terrorists, we would have to be Middle Eastern men with full beards. Luckily, I waxed recently. An executive decision was made that our terrorist cell would henceforth be called The Divine Bovines and that our scouting trip had to continue into the neighboring towns. What the hell, we managed to get to Frognot without getting lost why not push our luck?

Whitewright Mostly Right

We motored into Whitewright shortly before the sidewalks were rolled up and headed for the ‘Historic Downtown’ for some shopping. What we discovered:
• Their ‘Downtown’ is about a block long
• The flower shop had moved next door and was closed for the day
• There is a Curves there, though it appeared to be closed midday Saturday
• There is only one and I mean ONE store worth going into
• The Webkinz are a fucking bargain there
• I’m a sucker for my kids
• I purchased a Webkin
• I actually purchased 2
• Mac Gyver has more resolve against spending than I do
• That poor woman who owned the store just about talked us to death she’s so starved for human contact
• Most of the realtor places ‘downtown’ were closed
• The listings were posted on the window
• We could buy a ‘fixer upper’ on a shit load of land for almost nothing
• It was out in the freaking boonies though
• And by ‘fixer upper’ they meant “Walls still standing, roof still on, but you’ll need to fucking gut the place to make it livable”
• I would hate living in the country.
• This place sucks.

Outlet For Supplies

Satisfied that we experienced all that Whitewright had to offer, we headed for civilization. The Outlet mall near my house! Oh, the discoveries were many! I won’t bore you with the details – just give you the highlights:
• Black leather hair bands with little skulls on them are awesome!
• 15 year olds in Ramones tee-shirts make me laugh
• Places that give out samples rock
• The Harry & David outlet is still to freaking expensive – but the samples are to die for
• Leaving a store with a bag full of Buddha’s and a couple of good luck frogs is AWESOME

After spending most of my vast fortune (lie), we had a gourmet meal of Taco Bell and discussed our terrorist activities for the day. It was decided that the Divine Bovines terrorist scout mission was a complete success and should be repeated.

Politely Racist

I’ve discussed before how I happen to work with some conservative Christian co-workers. One of them happens to be of the fun sort of conservative Christian, the fundamental, judgmental, somewhat racist, conservative Christian. We’ll call her Peg because that’s not her real name and if she ever Google’s her real name, despite the fact that it’s fairly common, I’d rather her not find this because it’s utterly truthful and really awful of her.

Recently there was a lovely cake that was made, sort of a wedding/anniversary cake that is often used for bridal showers and all. It has a couple of hearts on it and looks lacy and all that happy crap. When Peg got to the point of putting the names on and saw that it was TWO GIRL names she said, “I hope this cake isn’t for two girls!” and got her knickers in a knot. I casually said “Well maybe it’s just a birthday cake.” To which she countered that it had wedding bells and all on it. Then for the next 20 minutes I had the joy of hearing Peg and Sue (my other CCC) go on about what if the cake really is for a couple of lesbians, and would Peg have done the cake if it was, and all that until it finally ended with Sue telling Peg about some jack ass talk radio program she listened to who had some speaker on who UESED TO BE GAY and I had to stifle my urge to say “Used to be gay? That just means he’s in the closet until someone catches him in the bathroom of a truck stop paying a male prostitute to give him head.” BUT I didn’t. After all, as I told a friend, I’m not there to make a political statement, I’m there to earn a paycheck. Quite frankly, people like that can’t be reasoned with – ignorance and intolerance are hard to get rid of. After they had that conversation I really, really hoped it WAS for a LESBIAN couple and that they would pick it up while she was still working, hand in hand, chains on their wallets, snuggled up to each other, wearing their Melissa Etheridge t-shirts.

As if that wasn’t enough for one day, just a bit later Peg was telling Sue about being at a public park with her husband and daughter. Part way through the story she says “Now I’m not RACIST, but…” and went on to tell about all the TRASHY MEXICANS that were there. As we all know, any statement that starts like that is going to be extremely racist. This time I tuned out their patter, with occasional parts of it filtering through my mind humming Amy Winehouse’s Rehab. In that one conversation they covered the ‘trashy Mexicans’, how they need to learn English, not be on welfare and stop coming over here – well she said ILLEGALY, but you know she really meant AT ALL. Racist.

I’ve worked there for 2 months and I really wish I could say that this was the FIRST time I heard her say such things, but it’s not. I’ve figured out that anytime she’s going to say some horrible sweeping comment about a group of non white people that she’ll start it with “I’m not RACIST, but…” to make it all polite and sweet. I guess I’ll have to remember that, next time I have something snarky to say about hypocritical conservative Christians I’ll just say “I’m not racist, but…” first and then she can’t get pissed at me. (Eyes rolling up in head)

In My Next Life



I’m going to come back as a man. I’m going to be the dad. I’m going to be the one who doesn’t have to worry about changing my plans for anyone else. I’m going to be the ‘baby-sitter’ not the ‘care giver’. I’m going to be the fun one, not the disciplinarian. I’ll be the one asking about where dinner is and not the one making it. I’ll be the one taking out a bag of garbage and calling it a day, not the one washing a mountain of laundry. My next life I will possess the penis. Right now I’ll settle for being the one who makes the voodoo dolls and plots horribly uncomfortable circumstances.



note – this is just me being pissed and venting a little. I’m not discounting all the marvelous dads who do it ALL and I do know a few most fabulous men do it all and more… And I’m available to any of you wonderful men who are reading this ;)



Mood Music: Amy Winehouse – Stronger Than Me



You should be stronger than me
You been here 7 years longer than me
Don't you know you're supposed to be the man,
Not pal in comparison to who you think I am,

You always wanna talk it through - I don't care!
I always have to comfort you when I'm there
But that's what I need you to do - stroke my hair!

Cos' I've forgotten all of young love's joy,
Feel like a lady, but you my lady boy,

You should be stronger than me,
But instead you're longer than frozen turkey,
Why'd you always put me in control?
All I need is for my man to live up to his role,
Always wanna talk it through- I'm ok,
Always have to comfort you every day,
But that's what I need you to do - are you gay?

Cause I've forgotten all of young love's joy
Feel like a lady, and you my lady boy

He said 'the respect I made you earn -
Thought you had so many lessons to learn'
I said 'You don't know what love is - get a grip!' -
Sounds as if you're reading from some other tired script

I'm not gonna meet your mother anytime
I just wanna rip your body over mine
So tell me why you think that's a crime

I've forgotten all of young love's joy
Feel like a lady, and you my lady boy

You should be stronger than me
You should be stronger than me
You should be stronger than me

The Motivation Train Has Left The Station!

Damn, I don’t feel like going to work today. No particular reason other than I’d like to just sleep until noon.

Someone come make me coffee! And breakfast… I like my eggs over easy.

Not As Planned…

So my tough love approach day didn’t go as planned. Partly because it was my day off and I ended up snoozing late. The day didn’t improve much, about the time I decided to take a shower I discovered that the water was turned off for some fucking reason. DAMN! Fine no shower, I could do house work until the water was on… or could I? Nope, seems you actually NEED water to do laundry and wash dishes – and the dog just didn’t feel like licking anymore dirty plates for me. DAMN! Okay fine, what next? Oh I needed to go to the grocery store. Well that wasn’t going to happen until after I hit the showers, there was no way I was going to head outside with raccoon eyes and dirty hair. Ah well it worked out after all, the water magically came back on, I forced my irritable offspring to take a nap and I did get a shower.

Awesomeness

Yesterday I did the MOST AWESOME cake ever. It was a big lion! My boss was rather impressed and took photos of the cake. I went back yesterday evening and took photos of the cake myself – If I ever get a damn card reader for this camera, I’ll share the amazing photos with everyone.

Okay, must go muster up some motivation to go to work now.

Tough Love

Sometimes being a parent means you have to do things that piss of your kids. Tonight my kids are STILL awake, I put them to bed at 9 pm and they are still AWAKE just messing around in their room. Tomorrow I will wake them bright and early and make sure we have a nice active day so they will go the hell to bed at 9 pm tomorrow night. I almost hope they stay up later.

Why I Hate Pants

Recently I made a spur of the moment purchase of some white Capri pants. Now before I go any further, you must know (or not, depends on what you WANT to know) that I HATE shopping for pants, I HATE it. I look HORRIBLE in pants. I’ll admit it, even my beloved camo Capri pants. I look H O R R I B L E. I have the WORST body shape for pants and subsequently I prefer to wear shorts (which really don’t look that much better but they generally aren’t 3-6 inches too long) or skirts. Anyway, like I said, I had a moment of insanity and bought a pair of pants – in my haste I grabbed the next size up. I thought that would be fine, I thought my big behind would compensate. I was wrong. I went for a walk with my offspring today and spent a lot of time hiking my pants up. It was truly a lovely sight. Damn I hate pants on me. And now I have pants that are too big for me. If anyone wants them, let me know!

Gas Station Romance

Something else odd happened to me today other than discovering that my pants were not fitting me. I stopped in a gas station with my progeny to get them drinks. As I dug out the correct change for Abu he made small talk with me. Then he asked me if my daughters were all I had as far as kids. I said yes, just two girls. Then he gets this strange look in is eyes like he was about to ask me out to a romantic dinner and says “Well maybe in the future you will.” I suddenly felt like I needed some Lysol and said something like “Well you never know. Have a great day!” and got the hell out of there before I had to throw the slushies on this man. It was creepy.

Just In

Said to me: Mommy, Coco needs to brush her teeth! She’s got bad breath.
Me: She’s a DOG! She’s supposed to have dog breath! Besides, why were you smelling the dog’s breath?

Tingling With Geekiness

I just finished a discussion with K about a creature on Star Trek and whether it was sentient. The conversation was carried over to an online friend for more discussion and debate. We’ve moved on to etymology. Though this is the same friend I told would end up with calluses on his penis for spanking, his monkey to what he says is an ‘unnatural amount of times a day’.

And now, because it’s late and I’m in an odd mood… it’s time to LETTERS FROM ME! It’s been a while since I’ve done this but here goes.

Dear Strange Old Man in the Store;

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE stop walking around with your hand on your junk while you shop. I realize you are really old and it’s probably just that you are at the stage in your life where you forget things so you just keep a hold of that to make sure you DID in fact put it in your pants this morning, but REALLY – it’s making me kind of sick. I swear I threw up a little bit in my mouth.

Sincerely,
Grossed Out A Lot

Dear Management Team From A Store That isn’t Wally World but Is Still Super;

WTF is with you coming into the bakery to scope out the cake decorator (me) in such a bold manner? You people creeped me out.

Warmest Regards;
Don’t Want To Work For You

Dearest Lovely Local Firemen;

Thank you for walking through the bakery. Please walk slower.

Lustfully Yours,
I’ve Got Rechargeable Batteries

Dear Tiny Terrorists;

I don’t care that you are bored. Stop telling me about it, it won’t make you less bored, you’ll just be bored AND in the corner. It’s not my fault; blame the powers that be who don’t want YEAR ROUND SCHOOL – fucking commies.

Suck it up.

Love,
Mom

Dear Coco;

Stop sleeping in my bed when I’m gone bitch!

Love
The One Who Feeds You

Dear Guy Friend;

Start that damn blog! The secrets MUST be told.

Anonymously;
Me

A WTF? Moment

Just now my youngest offspring said: I have two boobies mommy! My head whipped around so fast I'm going to need to wear a neck brace for a week. I saw her looking at her new charm and said: RUBIES! RUBIES! Those are rubies.

Nothing much else to write about today... well lots really but I think it's best not to write about this and my current obsession right now. It could be really fabulous, but being MY life, MY Karmacially Challenged Life, it'll probably turn out quite shitty and possibly even regretable. But what the fuck! It's fun for now!

Move along now, nothing to see here...

My Culinary Expertise!

Said just now by Cabbage Patch: Mom, is dinner ready?
Me: No.
Her: You should have microwaved it.

Ah yes, cooking advice from the child who eats barbeque sauce sandwiches.

And The Answer Is: Because I Cleaned The Kids Room!

Just like Jeopardy except much more boring. And no prizes.

Why is there a mountain of laundry spilling out of my laundry room and into the kitchen?

Why is there a bag full of stuffed animals by the front door?

Why have I used my complete and extensive vocabulary of swear words twice this morning?

Why did I consider kenneling the offspring for the rest of the summer?

Why was I staring at an unidentifiable something while standing in my progeny’s room?

Why did I stop and wonder “What is that smell?” earlier this morning?

Why have I written the Tiny Terrorist out of my will and added Bea, Dragon and Coco instead?

Give up? Well, yeah, you have serious short-term memory issues if you do – give up the pot now – since I already told you the answer.

Today my plan was not to spend the morning swearing, cleaning, and slave driving my offspring. Well okay, the slave driving part was in the plans but not the cleaning of their room, just slave driving in general – it’s good for them, it builds character.

And the final question:

Why do I have the urge to drink an entire bottle of tequila?

Filling Space And Amuseing Myself!

imjudypooh.blogspot.com/

WANTED FOR THE WRETCHED DEFAMATION of a DISAGREEABLE SACK OF POTATOES

$2400

What's Your Blog Wanted For?


You can ask Mystic about that, she's my accomplice!

I am 67% Addicted to Coffee

See??? I CAN stop anytime I like! I just prefer to stop at Starbucks for a nice Vanilla Soy Latte!

I Scored a 73%!

And THIS is why I (usually) use SPELL CHECK!

$5265.00The Cadaver Calculator - Find out how much your body is worth. From Mingle2

Hmmmmm.... I wonder how much K is worth dead?... just wondering!

I Rate!

Mingle² - Free Online Dating

I am SHOCKED! SHOCKED I tell you! SCHOCKED AND APPALED that I didn't rate an X. I guess I don't discuss masturbation, anal sex, prostitution, monster cocks and copious amounts of booze enough to rate that well. I really should start writing more about my weekends. ;)

Is Canada Another Planet?

I know I have discussed how my youngest offspring is actually an alien from Copperhead Planet. I’ve started to wonder if by Copperhead Planet she actually meant CANADA. Why do I think this? Well every time she brings me a drink despite the temperature of the liquid in the glass she is brining to me, it NEVER EVER has ice in it. I’ve started asking her if she’s Canadian before requesting ICE in my ICED TEA (which she will usually go back into the kitchen to get for me and bring me a couple of ice cubes clutched in her dirty little hand). Yesterday she brought me a glass of water, set it down on the computer desk and then said, “I’ll go get your ice now” before I could even say anything.

Someone Call PETA!

Sadly the just over a week old Webkin that Cabbage Patch got for her birthday and Super Girl cried about for an hour has been utterly forgotten and totally neglected. I now feel obligated to log on to the Webkinz site a few times a day to make sure that the Sims-esque horse is fed and happy. This is somewhat disturbing and comforting all in the same moment. The horse blows me a kiss when I go see her! How could I not spend an hour playing games to earn enough Webkinz Cash to buy her a pool?!?!?!?!

Political Movement

I’ve decided that I really do need to start a political movement to have YEAR ROUND school. I’ve been a supporter of the notion for quite a while and today when my offspring dusted my living room with FLOUR I was even MORE fired up at the idea. And for the whole 35 minutes that I spent cleaning and vacuuming while lecturing my Tiny Terrorists, I’m use THEY TOO were totally in favor of year round school or anything at all that would have involved them not being in the same room with me or having to hear my voice. Summer vacation sucks. I’m looking for ways to get around those pesky child labor laws so as to keep my offspring occupied for the remaining eternity (seems like it) that summer lasts.

High Score On The Fuck Up Test!

This weekend I got the brilliant idea to get new inter tubes for the Tiny Terrorists bikes (they each had a flat). That was my FIRST mistake! The second was going to Wally World WITH the Tiny Terrorists AND their father. What should have been a quick $6 trip turned into an hour-long $81 trip with much whining – I couldn’t help it, I just wanted to be out of that damn place! The rest that happened was something akin to a Three Stooges skit with only two Stooges and two monkeys wearing pastel colored bike helmets (brand NEW because they HAD to have them despite my argument that they didn’t need helmets since they weren’t yet up to riding more than 10 feet before falling off).

Months ago, I did bike maintenance that was REMARKABLY easy and quick. This gave me an amazing false sense of security in this area. I had no doubt I would be able to replace not just one tire but TWO in less than 20 minutes. Oh how painfully wrong I was. First, I had trouble getting the nuts off Super Girl’s bike to get the damn wheel off. Where in I discovered that we have the LAMEST maintenance man EVER for our townhouses. When asked if he had a wrench or a pair of pliers that I could borrow, his answer was no. What fucking maintenance man doesn’t have a WRENCH??? My dad was a maintenance man for 25 years, it doesn’t matter where you are, if you ask that man for a wrench/screw driver/pliers, he can have them in your hand in less than 5 minutes… but I digress. 30 minutes into this endeavor (after finding another screw driver) I sat on the ground with my hands covered in black stuff while I cursed under my breath and tried to get the inter tube into the tire like I had done before. I called K to help. Suffice to say that an hour later I had threatened to throw both flat tires into the trash and just by new wheels, asked the kids why they didn’t just want skates and done an amazing Fu Manchu impression complete with visuals. By the end of it, neither bike is ride able, both brand NEW inter tubes have been pierced (by both K AND myself) and dinner was really late. I rock.

Monkey Hate

I’ve made an odd discovery today. Apparently, I have something against monkeys. I’m almost disturbed by this revelation, but not really. I’m thinking that possibly I’m just full of hate towards a couple of specific monkeys but ya never know, I think I’ll might want to just avoid the monkey house at the zoo from now on. I know, you are wondering exactly which monkeys have pissed me off (or possibly, you are actually wondering if I’ve finally taken that leap off the edge of sanity and am sinking into the abyss of lunacy) and why I have such homicidal rage toward them.

Dora the Explorer’s stupid monkey friend Boots the Monkey. He’s an idiotic purplish monkey who wears bright red boots and always shouts when he talks (I’ll cut him some slack on that last part since everyone in Dora land speaks several decibels louder than any normal person and in both English and Spanish! Although maybe that’s just how you have to live in Dora land, where just about every animal and half of the inanimate objects can talk and everyone sings idiotic songs when they have to make a decision about anything. Still I’d pay money for a singing dancing baseball bat to shut that fucking monkey up.

The other primate in question is Curious George. I hate that fucking monkey and would call animal control to pick him up if I lived next door to him. That monkey causes so much trouble I’m SHOCKED that no one in that town has decided to put out a special plate of poison cookies for him. At least he doesn’t sing. However, he fucks up everything he comes in contact with. Someone please put that damn monkey in a cage and take him to a medical lab for testing!

WOW! I certainly have a lot of irrational rage focused on cartoon characters! WHEN WILL SUMMER BE OVER?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!

Ahem… I’m back now. Moving on.

Rising To The Occasion

Yesterday as the family and I drove to Wally World, we saw a mini van near the park with a shit load of balloons tied to the top. As I noticed it at the red light, I thought, “Why would anyone tie balloons to the top of their car?” The van drove under the bridge then turned onto the road ahead of us. As it got to the top of the hill balloons started flying off the van. K and I started laughing because we had a very vivid mental picture of what must be happening inside the van as more and more balloons escaped their binds and floated off to the heavens. By the time the van had driven half a mile more than half of the balloons on the van were gone. We had this conversation:

K: I bet it’s a man driving.
Me: and a woman in the passenger seat saying, “I told you not to tie those balloons on the van!”
K: and him saying, “It seemed like a good idea, it’s not like I could see out the back window if they were in here!”
Me: and a little kid in the back screaming “My balloons! My balloons! Whaaaa! My balloons!”

I almost wish we had followed the fan to see what happened when those doors opened.

Happy Friday The 13th Birthday To Cabbage Patch!!

Today is the actual birthday of my youngest offspring. Last Saturday we had her oh so fun birthday party, at a local park. As the day approached, I was mildly worried about the weather as it had been raining for like a month straight or something insane like that in a place where even GETTING rain in the month of July is such a rare occurrence that most people would have a party for that reason alone. But not this year, for some reason – global warming/depleted ozone/nuclear fall out/Commies/apocalyptic storm/celestial grudge/Republicans in office – the area has been getting torrential amounts of rain and as of a week ago today, we hadn’t had a dry day in a while. Not that it mattered; I was still going to have the party at the park. I had a large pavilion reserved, games for kids to play and a fucking scary huge Dora The Explorer piñata chocked full of crap! We were having that party! (Oh yeah, I also did not have a back up plan.)

Saturday arrived with no rain! About 10 am, I realized that this was the first absolutely perfect rain free day we’d had in a while and that we better get our asses in gear and to the park before other people realized it and decided to have a picnic at the pavilion I reserved. I would not hesitate to put the throw down on someone – I had a fucking scary huge Dora The Explorer and I would not be denied my pavilion!

We arrived about 11 am and started setting up amid a chorus of whiny voices claiming to be bored and wanting to go to the splash pad RIGHT THEN. Set up was pretty quick, even with K having to go back home to get the bag of stuff we forgot. With 10 minutes before guests were to arrive the ever so bored Tiny Terrorists took to sitting RIGHT IN FRONT of the cake and peeking into the box.

Okay, I know… Boring you! I’m boring myself. Let me cut to the interesting parts…

Water Balloons!

This actually only took place between the Tiny Terrorist and their cousin as no one else had shown up yet. I made the game interesting (for me) by making the rule that the Little People could not throw the water balloons at any grown up. The dads made their own rule by yelling to not throw them near the grill. Whatever, I had fun pelting the Little People.

Pin The Tail On The Donkey

A perfect game for the 8 and under crowd and great for a group of 6 of them. Shortly before people arrived, I realized I had forgotten the PRIZES for the game! My only hope was that none of them had actually PLAYED the game and KNEW about that part. And as luck would have it – they hadn’t! I was quite amused when I put the blindfold on each one and they said “Hey! I can’t see!” I kept repeating “You aren’t supposed to!” It was quite amusing to watch them – they played the game three times before I got bored and shoved them off towards other things.

Kill Dora!

Anticipating that the overstuffed Dora piñata would explode in a shower of candy and plastic trinkets early on, I let Cabbage Patch be the first to smack Dora. My anticipations were quite wrong. Despite the fact that Dora was merely taped with Scotch tape, she held on for 2 and a half rounds of beatings. Moreover, to be quite honest it looked more like a lynching than anything else… Dora strung up in a tree being beaten with a stick for other people’s amusement… sick really… but I digress. When she did finally succumb to the torture and give up her sugary booty, it was hilarious to watch the kids – who had to actually be TOLD to PICK UP the candy!

CAKE!

Everybody loves cake!

Between each of these events, my oldest was afflicted with a severe whining flu to which I had to tell her that if she didn’t stop the whining that the rabid squirrels in the park would come running out of the trees and eat her brain. She didn’t believe me.

Sadly, I did not stay to see the kids play on the splash pad as I left the party abruptly after serving cake so as to not make the party memorable in a really BAD way. I apologize to everyone at the party for my seemingly rude behavior but I felt horrible. Thank you all who brought her gifts despite the invite clearly saying NO PRESENTS. We’ll be getting out Thank You cards soon.

Anyway… I must force my children to get dressed now that they are clean. Have a delightful Friday the 13th!

Helping Bring A Touch Of Hate To Every Day

My offspring hate me from time to time every day. It’s healthy for them. It makes them appreciate the HAPPY times even more. I do what I can since I’m not raising my children in abject poverty and neglect. Just extreme sarcasm with a touch of smart-assness. Lately my offspring have been developing their own sarcasm and I can not tell you the intense pride I feel… well when it’s not directed at ME, because when it is directed at me then I just get the urge to ground them until they are 30 or so. My youngest progeny just this morning replied my request for help making breakfast with a curt “I’m not your personal chef!” My urge to shove her into the oven was quickly over rode by admiration as I’ve said that exact line or a variation to her just about every day for the past few years. The elder of the progeny has developed the ability to roll her eyes. Usually at me. Which just pisses me off, so I guess she’s succeeded in mission. Though I often wonder if her mission is to set a record for the child who has spent the most time standing in the corner. Cabbage Patch is still working on her eye rolling technique, smartly she has chosen to practice on her sister and not in response to me. I’m very proud of both of them as I hadn’t developed these talents until I was at least 9.

Damn Menopausal Computer

Fucking computer of mine. It’s still having heat issues. K left recently to go procure my computer a new fan as I have yet to locate the Estrogen program for the computer. And just like a tempermental computer, it’s working FINE since he walked out the door. I hate this computer some days. (K brought home a brand fan with a brand new SUPER screwdriver and I installed it all by myself! The fan, not the screwdriver… I used the screwdriver to install the fan silly!)

72 Months Old!

That’s right, my youngest Tiny Terrorist turns 72 months on the 13th! Woohoo! What? Did you have to get a calculator to figure out that she would be 6?!?!?!?! Well so did I… actually I had to use the calculator to figure out the month part, but WHATEVER! Back to me and my HATE. I absolutely HATE it when people refer to their child’s age in months after they are about a year and a half to 2 years old. Come on people! If your kid can actually tell someone they are 2 or 3 then stop looking like an obsessive compulsive totally neurotic child absorbed nitwit and stop with the month thing. Nobody but you gives a fuck how old your child is to the EXACT month. Next thing you’ll say is that you keep track of exactly how many times your kid takes a shit during the day! (please, don’t tell me if you do… I don’t need to know about your sick fetishes.)

(*Dude! I totally suck! I just hit my kid in the head with the telephone. It was an ACCIDENT! Stop looking at me like that!)

Gag Me!

Nothing is more disgusting than dog barf! Yes, dog barf trumps even cat vomit for grossness. Yesterday right after a nap on the sofa Coco decided to hurl on a sock on the floor. It was so vile I did the only thing I could do. Which was yell for K to come clean up the dog barf. No really, it was that bad – worse than any of the times my progeny has spewed on me. Then I told him to just throw away the sock because I couldn’t imagine ever being able to wear it again even if it was washed and bleached a few dozen times (well that and it wouldn’t fit me anyway – not my sock!).

Okay, that’s enough hate for one day. I’ll be back soon with the recap of Cabbage Patch’s birthday and all the toys that give me the urge to disembowel the person who purchased them for my offspring. I know! You can’t wait!!!

E I, EI, Oooooooooooooo!

Apparently small alien children from Copperhead Planet are serious animal lovers and love to pretend they are farmers and introduce their brand new duck to their old pig. And now Piggy and Ducky (I know, real original names) are in love because interspecies love is not frowned upon by the inhabitants of Copperhead Planet.

The NEW pet/toy ducky was purchased today after trying to talk her out of having this rather ugly dog toy. Yes, yes, my prodigy BEGGED for a dog toy and YES she knew it was a dog toy but she had to have the damn duck. On the tag it says ‘free as a bird’ but my Tiny Terrorist insisted it should have said ‘free as a DUCK’.

My only question is, where will they live? A sty or a nest? Woman usually get to pull a lot of the strings on that one so it could really be a nest, but Piggy is older (like 20 or so years old!) and more set in his ways so I could see him insisting on a sty. I guess it won’t really matter until they decide on kids. I hope they adopt.

Totally NORMAL Kids

Maybe the rain is getting to the Tiny Terrorists. They are playing Weather Channel right this moment.

Happiness Is a Piñata As Tall As You Are And Loaded With Crap!

The youngest of the Tiny Terrorists is quite happy. D took her to the Hispanic areas of town yesterday and let her select her own piñata which turned out to be a bigger than life Dora The Explorer, it’s literally as tall as her and has a head that’s 3 times as big as hers– let me tell you, it’s fucking SCARY. In addition, she is fully loaded, when that thing splits open, I hope all the children are standing clear, I would hate for any one of them to get a massive blunt force head trauma from the sheer weight of candy spewing from Dora’s head.

Yesterday we also selected which cake will be adding to the sugar buzz for the wee people this weekend. After looking through the book twice, Cabbage Patch finally decided on a Go Diego, Go! cake, as Diego is Dora’s cousin and is wildly popular with my progeny who actually believe they can speak Spanish after watching a few episodes of that back to back. I cannot say I wasn’t slightly disappointed she decided to forgo the adorable Tinkerbelle cake or the labor-intensive castle cake, but it appears she’s choosing her own theme in her own haphazard way.

Menopausal Computer

My computer is having ‘issues’. Hot flashes. It’s horrible. Temperamental old bitch! Until K gets a new fan for her, I’ll only be on sporadically so don’t think I’m ignoring you if I don’t answer, I’m probably just curled up in a fetal position weeping about my computer issues. Or doing laundry.

Cat Talk

You would think Sunshine would learn, but no. This morning as I finished my cereal and soymilk:

Sunshine, leaping onto the computer desk looking hopeful: Can I have the last of your milk?!?!?!?!?!
Me, shaking head and offering bowl to cat.
Sunshine, looking shocked: Ewww! That is not milk!
Me: *smirks*
Sunshine: *moves spoon in my other hand closer with paw and sniffs* Not milk!
Me: Same as yesterday.
Sunshine: *looking deeply offended* This situation is intolerable. You aren’t funny. Have fun guessing which pair of shoes I crapped in. *jumps off computer desk and flicks tail at me* I hate you.

Ahhh I’m so glad we have these moments.

Cats Don’t Like Soy Milk

That’s one of the most amazing things I’ve learned over the weekend. My cat Sunshine was deeply disappointed at the point that I stopped eating cereal and milk when I became lactose intolerant. Recently I’ve discovered a soy milk that doesn’t taste like ass so I’m back to cereal and milk for breakfast. Which falsesly raised the hopes of my adoring obsessive kitty. If my cat could speak this morning would have probably gone like this:

Sunshine leaping onto computer desk: Mmmmm cereal and milk I see? Been a while for that. Sure looks good.
Me: Cereal and SOY milk kitty, you wouldn’t like it.
Sunshine: Oh please, it’s not like I was ASKING for some of your delicious MILK. I was just NOTICING that you were having some cereal and delicious MILK.
Me: It’s SOY milk.
Sunshine: Oh honey, the I was born on a dairy farm, I know all brands come from the same place. Squeezed from a cow.
Me: No, it’s not REAL milk. It’s SOY milk.
Sunshine: Look if you don’t feel like sharing, just say so, no need to be rude. *turning around indignantly to stick tale in cereal bowl*
Me: Cat, go away. *putting cat on floor* Aren’t you late to lick your butt or something.
Sunshine: Oh, har, har. Don’t quit your day job. *jumps back up on computer desk and purrs loudly*
Me: Fine, whatever. I’m done. Want some Soy Milk?
Sunshine: MILK! Yeehaw! *sniffs bowl… looks at me indignantly* What the fuck are you trying to pull? That’s not milk.
Me: I told you.
Sunshine: Is this some kind of a joke? Is it funny to tease the kitty? What kind of a monster are you? *Looking pissed* You said MILK!
Me: Soy Milk.
Sunshine: Bitch. We’ll see how funny you are when I take a crap in your shoes. *jumps off computer, flicks tail in my direction*
Me: Stupid cat. Get some Prozac!

Wombats and Kangaroos! Don’t forget the piggies!

My youngest offspring has decided (for the millionth time) what she wants for her birthday. A wombat. She saw it on Animal Planet last night and thought it was CUTE! I told her to go ask her father. He said something akin to “What? A wombat! You can’t have a wombat!” to which she came downstairs with a quivering bottom lip to inform me that “Daddy said no. I can’t have a wombat.” The next commercial break showed a baby kangaroo, which she wanted immediately. I told her to go ask daddy. Tell him it could carry her books in it’s pouch to school for her. Again, daddy had to rain on her parade. More quivering lip. By the end of the night she had added in a cute little piggy to her list of desired pets. If anyone knows where to get a stuffed wombat… send me a message.

Okay, I’m off to work now. Enjoy the rain!

Coming To A Screeching Halt

Today I was having a conversation with a co-worker as we decorated cakes. The conversation went to teen pregnancy and how her 13 year old had classmates who were pregnant, which is shocking and sad all at the same time. As the discussion continued I said "Goodness, my babies are small but the thought of that (the pregnant 13 year olds) makes me want to send my girls off to an all girls school." To which she replied "Yeah, but then you'd have to worry about her turning queer." I just shut up. I was appalled and knew that it was in my best interest (of keeping my job) to just say nothing even though I found her twisted fundamental Christian (yes she is a Christian and other than this a very nice person who seems smart) view on how girls being at an all girl school would be 'turned queer' just ignorant and insulting. At that moment I was reminded that I live in the Bible Belt where being open minded is frowned upon.

Old Friend and New Movie for $3.25! That ROCKS!

I went to see Evan Almighty with my friend Kanga today. Kind of spur of the moment “Hey what are you doing? I should be packing for my BIG trip, do you want to go see a movie?” and me being the supportive and helpful friend, I said “Hell yeah!” The theater was fairly full, it didn’t help that we had to stand in line for nearly 10 minutes to get drinks before we went to search for a seat. A very nice woman offered to move her brood over so we could sit on the end and not have to sit in the VERY FRONT of the theater. This seemed like a rather nice gesture until shortly into the movie when I (who was sitting right next to the seemingly nice woman) heard her talking. Now I don’t care that I had paid the matinee price of a paltry $3.25 to see the movie, or that it was a Sunday after noon (which are supposed to be easy after all), movie etiquette demands that you don’t talk through a movie (except the Rocky Horror Picture Show). The first few times it happened I thought one of her offspring had asked her an important question, but then I started listening and realized that she was just having a conversation with her progeny about the movie. This struck me as more than just a little odd but down right stupid. I wasn’t sure, if she just didn’t realize that she HADN’T rented this movie and WASN’T sitting on her couch with a bag of chips or if she had forgotten her special medication this morning. I honestly didn’t care, I just wanted her to shut it. And she did for a while, until nearing the end of the movie. The last two outbursts by her made me wonder if she was taking this movie a little to seriously and had actually had a religious moment somewhere between all the laughing and giggling. Moreover, the THAT thought made me laugh all the way out of the theater.Having a religious moment brought on by Steve Carell. LOL!

Because Hating One’s Mother Is Not Instinct Until 13, I Do What I Can

My offspring HATE me right now. Well let me correct that. My youngest progeny (you know, the alien being from Copper Head) HATES me right now. And WHY you may be (or probably are not) asking at this very moment (the moment right before you realize you have wasted at least 3 very important moments of your very important life reading this brain damage causing crap I expel on this site)? Because of a HAMBURGER. A hamburger I made in my own (in much need of a good floor cleaning) kitchen by my own (very much stained by cake icing) hands. You see, my crime was in making four hamburgers and not three hamburgers. Since the other contributor to their DNA is out tonight (enjoying a childfree night with his beloved), there was no one else to eat the third (rather puny looking) hamburger and there in lies the problem. The oldest of those expelled from my womb laid claim to the hamburger before the youngest could call dibs. Now we all must suffer for that indignity.

The smallest of the Tiny Terrorist began a campaign to let me (and everyone else within earshot) know of her displeasure at the injustice that is an older sister claiming the last tiny little pathetic hamburger. Not even the offering of a COOKIE would pacify her rage. A COOKIE!! She TURNED DOWN a COOKIE!!! She truly is NOT my offspring. After a full 5 minutes of her screaming of the insult of being denied the last HAMBURGER, I did the only thing I could do (and no it did not involve a roll of duct tape), I said “Shut up! Go brush your teeth and get ready for bed!” and subsequent appeals from her were met with a hasty “Shut it now! Get on to bed!”

As I type this, it has been a good 20 minutes since they headed upstairs to bed and she just now stopped kicking the bed frame. She broke it, fell out of bed or just decided it was pointless. Whatever, it’s quiet. I’m happy. In 10 years, she can bring this up again as illustration of what a horrible, uncaring mother I am for denying her that hamburger, and then she’ll storm off to her room and slam the door. Either that or she will have decided to move back to Copper Head Planet. I am so going to charge her alien parents back child support when I find them!

Waiting For Laundry

Just a quick update while I wait for my laundry to finish.

Though I still love my job, yesterday was the first day I did not enjoy it. It was not the actual job, it was the person who started a bunch of stuff and didn’t bother to finish it, so I had to finish it all and didn’t get to the things I needed to get done. That and I don’t really like mopping the whole damn bakery. Oh well, it could be a much worse job.

I got horribly sad news yesterday, Coco the Wonder Dog has macular degeneration and will be blind within a year. Not only that but the tumors that were removed from her nasal cavities are growing back. The facts are that Coco probably had one or two more good years left and that is heartbreaking because she’s only three years old. I’m so sad that I’ll only have my time share dog for maybe another year.

My kids just made their own lunch. A ketchup sandwich for one and a bowl of cereal for the other. Yes the ketchup sandwich was for the offspring who is the former occupant of Copperhead Planet.

A friend of mine who is very dear to my heart is moving away from Texas. I’m so very sad about that.

Life doesn’t suck all around though, K is going to spend tonight with his boyfriend. Yay for him.

My pink haired offspring still has pink hair and damn that’s cute!

Well I better get in the shower now – gotta leave for work in 20 minutes.

She Said WHAT?

I just had this conversation with my youngest offspring:

Her: Before I came from Copper Head.
Me: Hmmm?
Her: Before I lived on Copper Head.
Me: Oh?
Her: Yeah, I lived on Copper Head and it was different than here. But the Master he didn’t like me so he hit me in the head. And my mom and dad they didn’t like me so I left and came here then I lived in your tummy and now I’m here.
Me: Ahhhhhh.
Her: Kitty! I love the kitty!
Me: Did they have kitties on Copper Head?
Her: No. Only dogs. Copper Head dogs.

All of that was in response to me giving her a hug and saying “I love you! You are my favorite 5 year old! My favorite 5 year old with hot pink hair!” I see years of therapy in her future… luckily it won’t be my fault with this kid!

Now On To Other Stuff… In Random Order

I believe I’ve found someone to watch my kids while I work! AND it shouldn’t cost me ALL of my pay check! Woohoo!

My offspring got to see the shuttle launch while in Florida. To which my youngest progeny screamed “I SAW IT! I SAW IT! I SAW IT!”

When the Little People returned home I told them that Hanta had passed away. As expected Super Girl took it hard and sobbed. Of course just the sight of my oldest crying from grief made me cry also. After a few moments we both regained composure and Cabbage Patch patted me on the arm then said “It’s okay mom, you can buy another gerbil.”

I still absolutely love my job. This past Friday and Saturday were so insanely busy I barely had time to breath, but it’s be just amazing. The only kvetch I do have is the music that is piped in all day long – Contemporary Christian Rock aka Jesus Make-Out music. And if that isn’t bad enough, the fact that there seems to be an extremely limited amount of Jesus Make-Out music out there so I get to hear the same shit every day. So much so that if I ever come face to face with Scott Stapp I may have to kick him right in the balls for as many times as I’ve had to listen to the SAME FREAKING CREED SONG. (All day long I have that South Park episode where Cartman puts together a Christian rock band going trough my head.)

I let my progeny dye their hair yesterday. Hush up, it’s all temporary dye. One has red and the other has hot pink/fuchsia. They love it and it looks cute.

My youngest is a total ‘tard at times. Just a bit ago she was jumping around like a maniac. When I asked her what she was doing she said “I’m going to be cool!” Then she did this kick thing and fell right on her butt to which I said “Haha, looks like you just fell on your butt!" She looked up at me and said “
That's cool." She gets the DORK award of the day.

Now… I’m off to make dinner. ;)

I Keep Telling Myself My ‘Happy Place’ Should NOT Be A Place To Hide Bodies…

First, I’ll start this out with some HAPPY THOUGHTS! HAPPY! HAPPY, I SAY!

My darling offspring are HOME! I missed them terribly. They had a most incredible time and have a butt load of Disney crap (i.e. memorabilia) now.

Another happy thought… I still love my job.

However, that brings us to what is making my blood boil. Go grab yourself some coffee or a coke, this might get long and drawn out. It’s fine, I’ll wait…. Done? Okay.

Nothing bothers me more than intolerance and hypocrisy. Well stupidity bothers me also, but I won’t hate someone JUST because they are stupid. Last week and the early part of this week I worked on a daycare arrangement with a local woman. She agreed to watch my offspring while I worked in exchange for me sewing some clothing for her offspring. We exchanged several e-mails and then had a long telephone discussion where in we set up a time to have my progeny meet hers (yesterday evening). We both thought this was a great arrangement. In the e-mails and during the phone conversation I stated “if at any time you decide this arrangement won’t work for you anymore, just give me advance notice so I can find alternate care for my kids.” Again, everything was agreeable.

Yesterday we stopped by her house after K got home. I figured we’d make it a quick trip as I knew she had VBS that night (as she had told me and her Church of Christ VBS lawn sign reminded me in it’s big purple writing). All kids got along great and she and her husband seemed fairly sane and nice. I measured her kids and she said how much she was looking forward to matching shorts/skirts for her girls and that she was looking forward to watching my kids. End of visit.

Fast forward to today at 1 pm when K went to pick up the kids. Miss Kerri told K that she could not watch the offspring anymore because he’s gay. She added something about now feeling like the arrangement is unfair as she could get ‘a lot of clothes from a thrift store for $25’. (Yeah whatever, I know she was just trying to make it seem a little less homophobic by saying that.)

*Pause for cooling down*

Okay, I wrote that on Thursday. I had to step away for a while because my blood was boiling I was so angry and indignant about such bigotry and general indecency. By Thursday night I was beyond being pissed and had moved to feeling a deep sense of pity for that woman. Friday morning before I headed off to work (thankfully K’s job is very understanding and he was able to take that morning off), I wrote the following e-mail to Miss Kerri:


Dear Ms. Valentine;

I was shocked and appalled by your behavior yesterday. Today however I just pity you.

First, how very unprofessional of you to break our verbal contract in such an abrupt manner. In one of my e-mails to you I stated “…give me a little lead time if you decide the arrangement isn't going to work for you anymore” which you did not do. When we spoke on the phone you stated that the terms of our agreement were satisfactory to you and very agreeable. I didn’t hear about you deciding not to watch my children anymore until Kent brought them home to me after 1 pm. That is unacceptable and entirely unprofessional.

Secondly, your reasoning for not watching my children due to their father being gay is perfect example of someone hiding their prejudice, bigotry and hatemongering behind their religion. It’s sad that in this day and age that people such as yourself can be so narrow minded and hateful and still consider themselves ‘good Christians’ because they can ‘justify’ their hate with the Bible. What ever happened to ‘love they neighbor’ and that old saying ‘Love the sinner, hate the sin.’ You are a shining example of typical Christian Conditional Love. I pray that you learn the real meaning of compassion, love and understanding some day, until then, you have my pity.

Thirdly, I honestly do not believe that the trade arrangement has anything to do with your decision not to watch my children; I believe it was just a lame attempt to make yourself appear less of a bigot. Sorry, didn’t work, you still look like what you truly are – a hateful bigot.

I apologize for this being in e-mail form but I was certain that I would have difficulty keeping a civil tone with you, as I abhor any type of prejudice, bigotry and intolerance.

Please do not try to reply as I have blocked your e-mail address and your phone number. I think I’ve heard enough from you. Again, I feel a great sense of pity and sadness for you and your family, ignorance is a horrible legacy to pass down.

Regards;

Judy

So, it’s all good. I’m still looking for daycare so I can continue to work my most fabulous job, but at least I’m not looking for someone to loan me a shovel and hold the flashlight for me in the middle of the night.

More on OTHER things soon… and YES the MORE and OTHER will be FUNNY (at least to me) as I’m done being indignant and morally superior ;) (for the moment).

RIP Hanta Virus

Today much to my shock, I discovered that my beloved gerbil, Hanta Virus (Hanta for short) was dead. Nothing horrible or gruesome, just laying out in the middle of the cage dead. I’m very sad about all this even though I’ve spent the last year reminding my offspring that my gerbils are old and could die at any time (Bubonic Plague AKA Bea is right at 4 years old and Hanta was about 3 months younger than her) because they only live 3-4 years. In the past month both gerbils had gotten thinner and seemed slower. I always figured it would be Bea to die first since she is the oldest.

K will bury her near where he buried Spike.

I feel a tad silly about being so sad about the demise of my rodent – though I did love her as much as I love all of my pets.

Attached is a photo of both gerbils, Hanta is the black one.

Proof Of Alien Life!

Yes, I have proof of alien life! At least I HAD proof. Currently that proof is out by the trash dumpster since I decided to evict all non-food items from my fridge this afternoon. And let me tell you – EWWWWW! This is one of those times I wish my offspring were here instead of having the time of their tiny little lives at the Land of Mouse because I totally would have made them clean out the fridge. Oh stop looking at me like that; you know your parental units used to make you do horrible chores too. That is part of the fun of being a parent, bossing around the progeny. It builds character (that is another part of the fun of being a parent, saying stupid things like that).

Blind Blogging

Any time a conversation that starts with, “I saw what you blogged about me”, I get a sudden feeling of panic in my stomach and then I try to remember if I called that person an ASS HAT. Generally the answer is no, but I still have to wonder because I HAVE called people ASS HATS in the name of describing really BAD DATES. Luckily, I hadn’t and the conversation lead to dinner out for sushi without the sushi because the sushi restaurant well known for their sushi does not serve sushi on Sunday. Hmmm… go figure.

Summer Break Down

The offspring return home in about a week. Then I will be faced with the FUN and excitement of finding childcare so I can work. Woohoo! Every time I think of this, I wish Prozac came in packaging like M&M’s, I definitely would be eating all the green ones out of that bag. I had considered putting both offspring in summer school but that seems like maybe it won’t work out so well despite them both needing it due to summer school starting TOMORROW and only going to July 3. Yes, yes I did say that both progeny need summer school as they have both failed. Oh, hold on a sec, someone at the door…. I’m back now, it was just my bloated sense of guilt and failure as a parent needing to come inside and oppress me for the evening. Ah but back to the other issue causing me mental distress, daycare. Oh you know, just screw it, I feel an anxiety attack coming on just from thinking about this.

Rain = Mosquitoes

The fabulous rains have made for a wonderful population of MOSQUITOES! EW. The other day as I walked to work, I ran smack into a cloud of what I thought was just tiny gnats but was surprised (rather rudely) that they were in fact blood-sucking mosquitoes. So disgusting! I must have looked like a total ‘tard as I swatted at them while walking. Tomorrow I’ll make sure to coat myself in a nice layer of OFF! Before heading out.

The Frosting On Top

Work is still going great. Last week the cake decorator who has been training me told our supervisor that I am completely trained and ready to decorate by myself! Woohoo! Now I’m learning about the rest of the bakery, which is not as fun as decorating but it is a lot less painful for my wrist. My goal is to get really good at decorating and then go to a bakery that will pay me more.

And that’s about it for now. I have to go finish getting ready for my date tonight. So… what goes well with camo? Heels or flats?

Cupcake Update

Yes I still LOVE my job. I’m actually decorating cakes all by myself. It’s fabulous. I now smell like butter cream frosting all the time. And best of all – It’s soooo much fun! I put cute little gold fish on a cake yesterday and big funky 70’s flowers on another. I’m always scoping out the cakes at other stores to see what I can copy.

Another great thing about this job is the people I work with. My supervisor is very sweet and the other cake decorator is just a breath of fresh air. The other ladies in the bakery are really sweet also. It’s odd to suddenly be the youngest person working in my department.

Terror Update!

The Tiny Terrorists are on their scheduled invasion of the World of Mouse. Yesterday was an anxious one for me as this is the first time my offspring will be so far from me for such a long period of time. AND it was their first airplane ride. Luckily for me their Tiny Terrorist status didn’t hold them up from boarding the airplane. Just after 7 am I got a phone call from both progeny letting me know they were on the airplane. It was incredibly cute and put my anxieties into high gear and on a time table. I spent the rest of the day looking at the clock thinking about when they would arrive in Florida and waiting for the “We’ve arrived!” phone call. This made everything FUN, FUN, FUN as I was totally off my game and screwed up labeling a bunch of cakes and had to re-do all that.

Last night’s check in was barely coherent due to their overwhelming exuberance. All I could comprehend was “Princess, rides, fireworks, mouse”. So all in all it sounds like a good trip!

As for me, I’ll be spending this time minus progeny either working, cleaning or working out child care for when they return. Cue anxiety attack!

Other Crap…

The only drawback to the new job is that it’s causing the carpal tunnel in my right wrist to act up. Due to that, I probably won’t be on the computer much in the near future until I get used to the job – thank goodness I have cable to waste time with. ;)

Speaking of cable and my obsessive possessiveness of the remote. I lost the remote yesterday! Damn it. I can’t even blame it on the offspring or K as I was home with the pets when the remote went missing. The worst part is that I now have to admit that I to am irresponsible with the remote and I have to climb down off my holier-than-though-high-horse. I am FLAWED! Feet of clay be damned! I think I need to invest in a chain to attach the remote to the television, kind of like the pen chains they have at banks.

And Now Something To Induce Vomiting!

I’m going to talk about sickeningly sweet things my kids have said. You may want to stop reading if you are diabetic or have a weak stomach.

Last week I was looking at pictures of cats and dogs on the internet with Cabbage Patch (she loves StuffOnMyCat.com), when she sees a photo of a Shar-Pei and says “Awww I like the ruffle dog!”

Seems my oldest offspring, Super Girl, who had no problem telling the therapist that she likes her daddy more than me, was rather anxious about her trip to the Mouse Kingdome and began crying yesterday morning before boarding the airplane wanting to know if mommy could go with them and couldn’t they wait for her (me). Awwww!

And So It Begins…

I WORKED today! I went to WORK and clocked in and did WORK that I’ll get this amazing thing called a PAY CHECK for! And guess what? I LOVE my job! No really I LOVE it. I LOVE it enough to marry it, except it’s not a person so I can’t! But maybe I’ll think about it while I masturbate… though that might be a bit on the perverse side… I still might, though more likely I’ll just fantasize about how it’ll just snuggle me at night as I fall asleep with my head on it… or not. But I digress (as always).

I decorated CAKES today! Yes, yes I did! I thought this would all be just training and watching and maybe getting bored and having to sweep floors and wipe counters, but NO it was actually ME decorating CAKES! CAKES people ordered and paid for! I picked up how to do things pretty quickly and that’s a FABULOUS thing. I actually completely decorated two cakes all on my own! TWO! All by myself! AND I now know how to make a tres leches cake and I now know why it is that I get ill from eating that! MILK! Times 3! Who knew with a name like tres leches?!?!?! I made it and decorated that cake and it looked awesome.

I also worked an extra 2 hours, the time flew by soooo quick I almost didn’t even notice I had worked 7 hours straight without a break. It was so amazing, I was having so much fun! And I didn’t even mind the many many times my hands were blue and looked like they were afflicted with a strange Smurf disease. I go back to work at 8 am tomorrow and I’m sooooooooo excited to go back! And best of all – I get PAID to do this!

Frightening Things That Keep Me Awake At Night

Enjoy the photo of a drawing my youngest Tiny Terrorist made for her Aunt D. I am not sure how it is possible that this wee progeny of mine can fail kindergarten but she can spell jihad correctly. I’m mildly disturbed by this, I’m even more disturbed by the drawing of my sister… with giant SOULDER PADS! I’m desperately fashionably impaired (I’ve even applied for one of those cool blue parking placards because my impairment borders on being truly fashionably disabled) yet even I know that giant SHOULDER PADS are a NO NO! I understood that I had passed down the faulty fashion gene to my oldest (she too has an unnatural love of camo) but I had hoped the youngest was unaffected. A couple of weeks after the above drawing was made my offspring returned home from a night away wearing blue pants with giant polka dots, a hot pink turtle neck (it was 80 outside!) with her hair in all directions, I honestly expected 10 more midget clowns to pop out of her suitcase. Now I’m coming to grips that both of my offspring are afflicted – I honestly thought they wouldn’t have much risk of this what with having a gay father. I’m looking into some type of program for both of them, the best I’ve found so far is What Not To Wear reruns ever day after school.

Speaking of SCHOOL, Holy Jesus on a pogo stick! It’s almost over! Damn! I keep writing letters to the school board and law makers begging them for year round school. Damn them all, I think I need to change tactics, less begging more threatening. I think maybe a little mafia tactics might work. They could wake up to find offspring in their living room, watching tv, making PB&J samiches on their coffee table and having a tea party with red kool aid while giving their dog a hair cut.

I’ve somewhat come to grips with the fact that we now have CABLE TV. I no longer scream and hide under the table when it’s switched on. In fact I demand the universal remote be turned over to me and only me most of the time as I feel no one else is responsible enough for the awesome power that it holds. That and the fact that 3 other remotes have vanished without a trace in this living room. Not even a batter cover, a stray button, no ransom note, just gone. I refuse to let that happen again. And of course this also prevents other people from doing the most heinous of activities – CHANNEL SURFING! Look at the freaking guide! Don’t flip channels! It is a forbidden activity in my abode, punishable by death or dismemberment… or something like that.

I’m not sure K is all that thrilled about me and cable becoming aquainted, he states that I’m more sarcastic than before! That isn’t possible! I also made him watch What Not To Wear with me, which he didn’t like, I guess there just wasn’t enough gay men talking about fashion on the show (ie Queer Eye).

Well I must go for now, I have to go hyperventilate over daycare before the offspring get home.

Employment Happens, Cue Anxiety Attack

Yes, yes it is true. I am EMPLOYED again. It’s exciting… to me anyway. I am going to be trained as a CAKE DECORATOR! Which is completely amazing and fabulous and for anyone who knows my love of CAKE (frosting), it’s a PERFECT MATCH for me! Woohoo! Just call me Cupcake from now on!

Anyway, I went for my drug test on Thursday and was quite surprised when they took a HAIR sample instead of a URINE sample. I spent all day Wednesday drinking water and practicing peeing in a cup for nothing! Well not really, I spent most of Wednesday on the couch feeling sick, but hey, that’s what happens when I drink a MILK shake! Have I mentioned that I’m LACTOSE INTOLERANT?? I have, well why the hell do I keep forgetting that? Whatever, MOVING ON… I go fill out the rest of my paper work today – pending the results of my drug test (thank goodness I gave up my expensive cocaine habit about the same time I gave up the Members Only jackets, Miami Vice and parachute pants) – and go for orientation Tuesday evening. YAY! I have a JOB!

Shortly after the realization of that fabulous fact, I needed to sit down, breath into a paper bag and put my head between my legs. Not so much because I’m finally employed again, but because I realized that now that the Little People’s summer break is quickly approaching that I would need to find DAY CARE for them. (Hold on a sec, the air has once again been sucked from the room, feeling dizzy… no worries… it’ll pass). The last day of school for them is the day AFTER Memorial Day (WTF? Why make them go BACK after the holiday???). Until the end of school, my neighbor has said he is more than willing to watch the girls after school while I work, then two weeks after school the offspring will be in the Kid Nirvana with D. Therefore, I have THAT much time to find affordable DAY CARE, which is well, nearly impossible. Thursday evening I spent many hours on the internet searching my options, fretting over the cost, and doing complicated math problems I thought I had left far behind when I finally passed college algebra.
REGISTRATION COST + EXTRA STUFF FEES = $$$ NEEDED TO GET THEM IN
WEEKLY FEES X NUMBER OF OFFSPRING = ALL OF MY CHECK + SOME MONEY I PULL OUT OF MY ASS

Thursday night I slept very little due to the DAY CARE induced anxiety attacks. Luckily, I was lying down so there was no danger of me passing out and banging my head on something hard… like a cat.

As luck would have it, Super Girl brought home a flyer for the Boys & Girls Club for their Summer Camp program and I was SHOCKED to see that it is actually AFFORDABLE. Well the weekly fee is affordable. The REGISTRATION is the cost of the weekly fee + membership fees for both progeny. It is a little high, but the weekly cost isn’t so high so it works out… or so I think. I was never good with math. Numbers BURN!

However, it means that there is no way in hell I can go to faire final weekend. Just cannot happen. All the money I will be making will need to go towards registration and the first week of DAY CARE. IN ADDITION, well I will probably have to work that weekend so… *sniff* no faire! I will live, it’s all worth it – the job will be incredibly cool.

PS - please note my most impressive use of ALL CAPS. I know, I amaze even myself. ;)

Playing Catch Up

So let’s see…where to start…. Mother’s Day. Okay Mother’s Day just passed. For a couple of weeks prior to the big day, the offspring would ask me if I wanted DIAMONDS every time they saw a Kay’s Jewelry commercial (damn K for getting CABLE! More on that later.) this would both amuse me and disturb me. Damn those commercials! Saturday K and the wee people went to a baseball game (YAWN!) with K’s boyfriend then spent the night at his house. So I had utter peace and quiet that evening. And nothing to do. No matter, I sat on the couch, painted my nails and watched What Not To Wear so many times I started to have a panic attack when I looked at my camo Capri pants.

Sunday rolled around and I did something I haven’t been able to do in many many years. I slept in. I slept in really late. I even got up, made a piece of toast and went BACK TO BED!!! It was AWESOME. Only the cats tried to wake me that morning and I just shoved them off the bed. Though I was enjoying the silence, I was starting to miss the family by lunchtime… It was my day for them to be my SERVANTS and my SERVANTS were not there to SERVE ME! Luckily, K was headed home with the progeny to take me out for a delightful Mexican lunch, which was good because I was really tired of eating toast.

Lunch was fabulous; the best part being dessert of the people shaped sopapias – sopapeople. Which look more than just a little bit like voodoo dolls (which is why I HAD to order them). When my adorable little Tiny Terrorists got their sopapeople, they did the cutest thing! They started quoting CSI and pretending they were doing autopsies! It melted my heart. However, discussing taking out vital organs seemed to displease the table next to us. How was I to know they weren’t big fans of CSI?

We topped off the day by going to the store to buy ME some art supplies and ME reminding the offspring that it was all about ME and they had to SERVE ME for the day. (Can you believe they thought that was utter bullcrap and REBELED against the suggestion?!?!?!?! Talk about ungrateful!) All in all it was a most fabulous Mother’s Day!

PS – I got a steak dinner also!

Sarcasm At Such A Young Age! I’m So Proud!

Just yesterday, I’m in WallyWorld with D and the Little People. As we shop, we discuss their impending trip to Child Nirvana AKA Disney World and how they must not wander off in the park, yadda, yadda, yadda. I then say to Super Girl, "What would I do if you were gone?" to which she answered me totally deadpan “Adopt.” D and I stopped in our tracks, as we were at once over come with hilarity that we had to hide from the offspring and with utter pride at her perfect delivery of such a sarcastic answer. That was such a fabulous line that I completely forgive her for being utterly menopausal yesterday – I really gotta find her chewable estrogen, these mood swings are hell.

And I Thought Therapy Would Start Later in Life

Yesterday I took Super Girl to a child psychologist. This is our first step in getting her tested for her ADD. I have to say I believe it went rather well, she hasn’t started to blame me for all her issues yet even though she did tell the psychologist that her dad was the parent she got along with better while I was sitting right next to her! I was shocked by her utter honestly at that moment and she earned my respect as I would never have said that with one of my parents sitting next to me – my need for approval was far to great for me to have ever uttered anything that would earn me the ire of either of my parents. She has another session next week then he’ll set up testing. Hopefully things will go well.

The Job Situation…

Still unemployed. I THINK I’m getting closer to having a steady paycheck. Still looking.

Thanks for all your kind words and support – It’s helped keep me from drinking 7 bottles of Boone’s Farm a day… well not really, my lack of $$ has kept that from happening. Sadly I’ve not yet been able to shake my responsibility to the offspring and I continue to fritter away my money on stupid things like food for them. But your support has helped! And your job leads have been encouraging! And the antidepressants have been entertaining! What? You didn’t send those? Hmmmm… wonder who did and how I could get so luck??

Off to do worky-lookey stuff! Happy thoughts! Send the HAPPY THOUGHTS!! ( Or money)

Answer this, bitches.

Make my inner animal external. Don't be a smartass.

No Point Of Reference

Recently I’ve been attempting to teach my offspring to ride a bike. Let me just say it right now, I have no freaking clue what I’m doing. I have no point of reference at all because I don’t know how to ride a bike. I know it’s hard to believe as learning to ride a bike seems to be a rite of childhood, but honestly, it never happened for me. I want to know how to ride a bike, I just don’t and now that I’m 35 I’m not sure I’m really up to falling off a bike and the embarrassment that ensues (i.e. I’m a big pussy). But I digress (as usual), I’ve done bike maintenance (aired up tires, replaced a tire tube and oiled chains) and now I’m kind of not sure what the hell I’m doing. So far, I’m running along side my progeny, holding them steady then suddenly letting go and watching them fall over. Which to be honest seems like a big nasty life lesson in trust and all that crap more than anything else. I’m not sure my kids are learning much more than that the ground really hurts when you fall onto it and sometimes you bleed, but they seem to be up for more, so whatever. Eventually they’ll either learn to ride or get tired of falling over.

This past weekend was crazy. Instead of my usual paying gig of watching Coco the colorful pooch, I got to watch Coco and Coco’s brother Alec (who looks nothing like Coco, but more like a big ass rottie German shepherd mix) at Alec’s daddy’s house. Therefore, I was gone ALL weekend long. The Little People were thrilled as this casa has a pool and a hot tub (which was totally necessary as the pool was really COLD, so they’d swim in the pool for a bit, then jump in the hot tub to warm up and back to the pool ad nauseam). It seems like it would be fantastically exciting to be spending the weekend in a big ass house with a pool and hot tub and endless channels of television to watch and wireless internet. However, it wasn’t. The pool got boring after a bit. There is only so much ‘keep away’ one can play with one’s progeny. The cable got boring right away and K and I only had one computer between us so we both tried to limit our own computer usage so as to be courteous to the other. And most of the time I was there I was thinking of the millions of things I needed to be doing back at my house that weren’t getting done because the cats just don’t do ANYTHING at all. It was somewhat stressful. But what do I know; I might have had more fun if I’d just drank heavily.

Moreover, on to other things…

Cabbage Patch has distinguished herself by being able to fail kindergarten. We just got her final progress report that basically says that she’s failing EVERYTHING and they suggest summer school. K and I have discussed this and we are opting to not put her in summer school and just have her repeat kindergarten. When I enrolled her in kindergarten, I wondered if I was putting her in to early as she is a July birthday and now it seems as though I have my confirmation that I should have waited. Even though I know this, I can’t help but feel like an enormous failure as a mother in this department. Yay me.

And to add to that failure in the motherhood department, Super Girl is having issues with school also. This is the most frustrating part ever. Super Girl’s teacher has been telling us that she knows the information but that she isn’t doing well on the tests. What the hell can you do? She HAS to pass the tests to pass 2nd grade. When we go over the flash cards with her, she knows it. She knows the math problems, she knows the words, and she can read well. She’s still failing the tests. Part of the problem is the way the tests are being administered. The math portion is done on the computer where the child is shown the screen with the math problem (8+1=) and they have to verbally answer in 3 seconds. There in lies the problem, the three seconds. When she gets to one she has to think about (8+7=) she takes longer than 3 seconds, then she ends up missing the next 2 because she’s trying to catch up. *sigh* I’m going to call the teacher and see what can be done about this, if she can just take the test in written form.

This whole school year has been rather disappointing and frustrating for me, as there seems to be a great lack of communication from the teachers as to what and how the progeny have been doing academically. So there, one child is definitely failing and the other is teetering on the edge – I think I definitely have the up on Britney Spears in this Ghetto Mother Of The Year Award and I didn’t even have to get one of them addicted to crack.

Finally…

I’ve been spending most of my time applying for jobs, washing clothes, cleaning my kitchen and being depressed. Some days I spend more of my time being depressed than anything else and those are the days that I generally don’t do the washing of clothes or cleaning of the kitchen and spend a lot of time just sleeping to make the day end faster. The past year and a half has been rather depressing but fuck, until a couple of months ago, I didn’t have the overwhelming urge to spend 12-14 hours a day sleeping.

I’ve never been unemployed for this long and quite frankly, it’s horrible. I’ve worked since I was 15 and worked full time since I graduated high school – even when I was in college. I never realized how much of my worth was tied to getting a paycheck until now. I honestly feel somewhat useless and worthless because I’m not getting a paycheck. This of course makes me full of self-doubt and devoid of motivation. It’s bad enough that I procrastinate but now I feel absolutely anxious when I want to do something because I’m terrified it won’t be good enough. I’ve always been somewhat doubtful about my own talents – I never really got many ‘at-a-boys’ growing up or much in the way of encouragement, but now, well I’m just paralyzed by it. I’m disappointed in myself, I feel like I should be able to snap out of this but I can’t seem to. I know I’ve disappointed a lot of people, join the club, I’m sure there are jackets by now. I’m sorry, I’m not a very good friend right now and I honestly don’t expect people to understand or anything like that. Therefore, if I’ve let you down and angered you, I completely understand and wouldn’t expect you to feel any other way. I’m sorry, I can’t change how I’ve been and though I’d like to promise you that I’ll wake up tomorrow and things will be wonderful and I’ll be able to fulfill my obligations and promises, I just can’t make that promise, I very well make wake up tomorrow and have the urge to go back to sleep for another 5 hours. I lead a glamorous life, don’t I?

On a brighter note, I have had two pretty decent job leads come up today and tomorrow I’m going to apply for a few jobs. Blah, that’s it for now. Send well wishes… and Prozac… and money… kidding, kidding, just send Prozac. ;)