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. ;)

Ahhhh The First Sign Of Spring! Poison Ivy!

As many of you know (and most of you don’t care) the town house I currently reside in is situated right next to a creek and it’s absolutely beautiful when things start to bloom. As the years have pass that I have lived here I’ve realized that the beauty is but a veneer to it’s true nature, the beautiful leaves and flowers hide the hideously large amounts of poison ivy twining up the trees and creeping along the ground (in a few weeks I’ll take a photo of the absolutely stunning patch of poison ivy that completely chokes out everything and carpets the floor in this one are of the ‘woods’). My progeny are forbidden from going into the wooded area for many reasons but for this really BIG one as Super Girl is SUPER sensitive to poison ivy (last spring she missed 3 days of school for a particularly nasty poison ivy rash that caused her to do a spot on impression of The Elephant Man).

This spring the allure of the woods calls all the children to creep through them down to the creek to get filthy. I am a mother, I am devoid of all fun (according to those I gave birth to) and my sole purpose is to crush all fun to be had by anyone under the age of 10 (again this is according to the two I have birthed). For the past couple of months my offspring have been playing Russian Roulette with the wooded area, they continue to venture into it with their friends and I continue to catch them and ground them – but my wrath isn’t what they are playing with, it’s the poison ivy. Up until now it hadn’t taken it’s usual strangle hold on the wooded area and wasn’t covering nearly every inch of ground so they’ve managed to come out of the woods with only the wrath of their angry and humorless mother. Earlier this week I noticed three relatively small rashes on Super Girl. AND much to my surprise, Cabbage Patch has a rash on her wrist! This was the child I thought WASN’T reactive! So… it’s spring and it’s itchy. Time to stock up on Calamine lotion and Aveno Bath’s.

Oh The Madness!

Today is “drag your kid to work and screw off half the day keeping them occupied day” or something like that. Currently the offspring are at work with K and could be more amused if you came up behind me and tickled me with a feather.

Today started remarkably well and cheerful! As I got up this morning I was greeted with the happy voice of my oldest progeny wishing me a good morning. I asked her to go upstairs and wake her sister and was told that she was on the couch. I walked into the living room expecting to see Cabbage Patch in her usual state – being partial eaten by the couch, but instead found a smiling child sitting on the couch. If it wasn’t so enjoyable it would have been CREEPY. (Please, please, aliens who replaced my offspring with pod children please don’t change anything!)

Then they got dressed, they took great care to choose the perfect outfit to wear. Super Girl obsessed over finding MATCHING SHOES to go with her all black ensemble. My suggestion of just wearing her pink sandals was met with such harsh disapproval I wondered if she was channeling Mr. Blackwell.

Next we fixed hair. Cabbage Patch opted for adorable today with the Cindy Brady Curled Pigtail look, accessorized with rhinestone barrettes and matching bracelet and she was good to go. Super Girl with for a more elegant look for her all black outfit. Long straight hair with rhinestone barrettes and matching bracelet as well. We moved on to the NEXT step in this process – nails. The progeny insisted they have a fresh manicure prior to leaving. Blue nails for Cabbage Patch and black for Super Girl.

I don’t think they were this particular when they went to the Daddy Daughter Dance in February. I think due to their overwhelming enthusiasm for going to work with daddy, I may message K and tell him to get the offspring applications to work there!

Anyway, a text message from K just updated me that things are going swimmingly there and that the offspring are being angelic and super cute. We’ll see what happens after lunch when the last 4 hours of the day are “Observe parent working”. I give it until 1:15 pm when the ethereal patina wears off and the whining starts. I’m ever so thankful to be home by myself with the kitties.

I Is Purples All Over

Ash is so funny! She put this on the comments of my MySpace page.


She's so crazy, it's fabulous! For more Lolcat fun, go check out I Can Has Cheeseburger? I'm completly addicted to that site! It's even better than Stuff On My Cat or Stuff On My Mutt and definitly funnier than Cute Overload (which is motly just terribly cute and not really HAHAHA.

Currently it's POURING outside. Which is wonderful. I don't have to watter my plants! The wee people woke up happy for the SECOND day in a row - is Armagedon right around the corner? - I wonder if it's from their sparkling clean room* or from the knowledge that their father is taking them to work with them on Friday for "Take your kid to work day". That man is BRAVE to take BOTH of them to work with him. His workplace has half a day of activites planned for them and then the kids get to OBSERVER as their parent WORKS from 1-5 pm. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Whatever! That will be the most unproductive day EVER. I remember when I worked as a secretary and my bosses would bring their kids to work for that day - I would always have the kids parked with ME for several hours of me entertaining them and playing games on the computer with them before their parents called it a day shortly after lunch because they couldn't get shit done because their kid kept going into their office ever 15 minutes to ask a question or get something or look pitiful and ask to go to McDonalds. I can't wait to hear of the joy of this day for K.

On to other things...

Still searching for a job, still broke and still missing faire and sad about it. I haven't been at faire at all this year and it's just tragic. I want to go soooooo much but I just CAN'T. I've had several offers from darling friends for them to give me rides or pay my way in, but I've refused them all - I would still be a broke dick and I'm just not going to be a leach to my friends. I love you, I miss you all, I'm going to come out at the very least Memorial Day Weekend to have much merriment. Everyone, have a drink at faire for me.

Shitty Sunday

Well first off, I didn’t get the job. *sigh* That kind of soured the day for a while. D came over to fetch Coco and we decided that her most recent dye job of Cotton Candy Pink was far to light so we set off to buy dog dye of a different color. Shopping, talking, having a bit of time away from the offspring and buying dog dye – things were going pretty well.

THEN when I get home there’s a message from the guy I was to have a date with tonight – he bailed on me for the second time. The first time was Friday when he had a terrible migraine. Tonight it was because he said he had dinner with his ex last night and that they decided to ‘give it another try’. Hmmmm… and last night he was telling me that he was going to bed early because he still had that migraine. *eyes rolling up in head* So let’s see… Since January I’ve been rejected because I have kids, because I have cats and now for the ex. I’m on a roll. Eh whatever, there’s always someone waiting to take their place.

D and I proceeded to do a little art work on the pooch. And the results are magnificent if I do say so myself. Well, just look. No these are NOT PhotoShopped, the dog really looks like that. *sigh* This is what keeps me from having to take copious amounts of happy drugs.

Later I spent the rest of this evening riding herd on my offspring so they would clean that health hazard of a pig sty that they call their room. After all the clothing, books, toys and papers were picked up there was an unimaginable amount of glitter and confetti on the floor. No really, there was, I wasn’t smoking crack while they cleaned. It looked like herd of drunk fairies had puked in their room. But it’s clean now. That makes me happy. That and Coco’s new colors!!! Ya want a dog dyed? Talk to me.

Good Job Getting Vibes Wanted!

The interview went quite well. I aced all the tests and impressed the woman who called for the interview. I think it went well with the owner of the company as well. The job place seems really interesting and fast paced. I would like this job. Throw me some happy vibes!

You Had To Be A Fiction Teacher!*

Why is it Monday through Friday when I awaken my progeny at 6:30 am I get complaints and screaming and pleas to go back to sleep yet on SATURDAY when they CAN sleep in I am awakened by their delightful squeals of play and laughter at the unholy hour of 6:15 am?!?!?!?!?! 6:15 in the freaking morning! EVEN my offspring who is the crankiest on a school morning and BEGGS to go back to sleep as she buries herself in the sofa cushions was up and laughing at 6:15 am. Yes, yes, Cabbage Patch AKA The Badger was participating in this lunacy. I finally had enough, yelled at them both and made them go BACK TO BED (one in their room, the other on the sofa) because I wanted more sleep. I think they do this to drive me MAD!

Moving right along…

I have an interview today at 1pm. It’s for an administrative assistant position. Meh. It would be a steady pay check. Why interview today, a Saturday? Because the person who called me for the interview was deeply impressed by my past experience with Nortel Networks and wanted me to interview with her and with the owner of the company who will be there today. Hopefully it’ll go well.

In other news…

Research recently released shows that a persons stress and anxiety levels are significantly reduced by looking at a pink pooch.** Take a look:





You’re welcome.

Now I’m off to take a shower and search for my favorite shoes to wear to this interview.

* That’s what Super Girl thought were the words to Big Shot by Billy Joel. Yes I listen to Billy Joel, fuck off, I’ve already admitted to the abomination that my musical taste is by publicly admitting my Manilow love.

** Not really, but if there ever is a study for that I want to one of the people getting paid to do it! I could dye pooches pink all day!

Lost In Translation

The other day Super Girl looked at me very seriously and asked me “Mamma is Aunt D half Chinese, half Japanese and half Mexican?” I stammered “No” as I tried not to choke on my coffee, then I asked her WTF? Well not exactly in that phrasing but you get the gist of it. I explained that Aunt D is part Mexican, part Cuban, part French and part something else then asked WHY she would think Aunt D was half Chinese and half Japanese. She replied “Then how does Aunt D know how to speak Chinese and Japanese?” “Super Girl… she LEARNED some Chinese and Japanese for her TRIP to CHINA.”

I told MacGyver about that and she thought it was hilarious. In talking we decided that D could use that to her advantage and just say that something was just LOST IN TRANSLATION anytime there is a misunderstanding.

Field Trip

Tuesday of last week was Super Girl’s class field trip. She begged me to accompany her on this and me being the most attentive mother ever, I said “Are you sure?” to which she said “Please!” and I said okay, then procrastinated until the VERY last moment to get my background check done. Why? Well I’m not keen on field trips – I never have been. I’m thrilled my offspring like them and get to go, but yeah, I never liked them myself. I realized this as I filled in the background check form the Thursday before at 2:30 pm and secretly hoped that it wouldn’t clear in time or possibly it would come back flagged due to my indictment for attempted murder with frozen poultry or possibly the 27 or 30 (I’ve lost count) separate restraining orders for stalking and various other activities, making me a security risk. I would have been fine with that and cheerily forfeited my $7 museum admittance fee to not go on the damn field trip. No such luck – I truly am karmically challenged – by 5 pm (much to Super Girl’s delight) I got an email stating that I was cleared. Damn.

The night before the trip to hell… er… trip to the Natural Science Museum and Wildlife Sanctuary it struck me as to why I have always loathed field trips (oh I’d still go, there was nothing worse than being the kid who couldn’t go). I remembered my first field trip (my mom was a chaperone) and how we sat in the back of the bus where I got car sick on the way there. I can’t remember where we went, but I remember lunch in the park and drinking red Kool Aid then lying down with my head in my mom’s lap. On the way back to school we sat in the back of the bus again where I proceeded to puke up copious amounts of red Kool Aid. It was great. Another field trip started out with the bus driver and teacher letting everyone disembark from the bus via the emergency door in the back. By this age I was far too much of a dork to sit in the back of the bus so I just waited in line waiting my turn to hurl my body out the back of the bus. Now you must note that I’m short and have always been on the short side, so here I was, short and chubby with geek clothes and a bad hair cut. A few people from the door of doom and I started to regret not having just gone out the bus through the front door. When I got there I looked down at the ground which seemed to be about a million miles below me and knew that this was a HUGE mistake. I hesitated; people behind me started saying “Go! Go!” in a very irritated tone, and then I did it. I jumped down just like everyone else, and then I fell flat on my fucking face. I cut my chin; I busted my knee open and scraped up one of my hands. And everyone laugh, except me, the short, chubby kid with blood on her shirt. Then of course there are the trips where I managed to not injure myself, where in I ended up being shoved to the back of the crowd and not being able to see any damn thing. That and riding the bus. Shit I hated riding the bus. D and I always had to ride a bus to school so getting EXTRA time on a bus just wasn’t a selling point for me. But I digress and hey, you aren’t getting paid $250 an hour to listen to my issues, so on we go!

I arrived at school about 9 am, everyone headed out to board the buses at 9:30 am and we arrived at the Science Museum and Wildlife Sanctuary about 9:45 am. Our group got to be one of the first ones to walk the nature trail. This promised to be interesting with 14 second graders in damp 52 degree weather. I had actually read the field trip information sheet which said to DRESS WARMLY and had ensured Super Girl had a jacket and I wore my coat. Our tour guide Tim gave specific instructions to everyone to NOT TOUCH ANYTHING without his permission. Sieg Heil, Tim. A few minutes into Tim’s instructions and description of the Wildlife Sanctuary I got the feeling that Tim may have been far to acquainted with certain plants during his younger years. Dude…

We started off on the trail and came to a large field with a creek beyond it. Tim stopped us and told us about this field and the creek. Tim took a good 10 minutes to talk about the GRASS… to a group of second graders. I remember thinking “Is he really talking about the GRASS or have I lost my mind?” The kids at this moment started asking about what time it was and when was lunch. We had just started. After Tim’s thrilling dissertation on the grass and how this European grass got here with the help of the immigrants and the animals they brought (and at no point did he EVER say the word poop, though he implied poop, he just never said it and for that he should be ashamed! Second graders love the word poop), we headed to a charming little area where he stopped to point out the POISON IVY! I cringed and hugged Super Girl closer to me while muttering “Don’t even take one step off this trail!”

NEXT, we walked past the enclosures for the birds on display at the Wildlife Sanctuary. Oops! There were no birds in the enclosures! How exciting! Tim explained that the birds that usually called those homes were currently on loan to some where else. Good choice of trails Tim! Finally we make it down next to the creek where Tim admonishes us to be QUIET! And to STAY AWAY from the creek. Thrilling. We see 3 ducks swim about 20 feet from the group. And one heron that flew away. The kids really didn’t give a crap by this time. They were asking every 5 minutes what time it was and saying they were hungry (i.e. bored). I was bored and I had a camera to take photos of interesting things with… which is to say there was very little that was interesting.

On the next part of the trail it was time for the kids to catch bugs. Sadly for them there weren’t that many bugs and it sucks to have to ASK permission to pick up a bug every time you find one – it makes for very few bugs being collected. YAWN. We finally made it back to the Natural Science Museum a little before 11 am. I was shocked to discover we had only been gone for a freaking hour! It seemed much, much longer.

Finally it was time for what the kids enjoyed the MOST! LUNCH! We had a 30 minute lunch so we’d have enough time to see the exhibits in the Natural Science Museum. (The field trip was scheduled to be over at 1:30 pm.) Now let me take a moment to say – DAMN! WTF is up with the shit people are packing in their kids’ lunches? It is NO wonder so many little kids are obese! I looked around and saw that my kid happened to be unique in the fact that her lunch had no junk food. Most kids had WAY too much food also. Super girl had a peanut butter and banana sandwich, an apple, an orange and a carrot (she loves carrots) and a bottle of water. She ate her sandwich, her carrot, had a few pieces of orange and we brought the apple back home. The girl next to her had a 6” sub from Subway, a bag of chips, a Sprite, a container of yogurt and some small slices of watermelon. The girl across from her had a sandwich (minus crust); Cheetos, a big Capri Sun, a big Honey Bun and I think cookies. Ah well now I understood why one of the girls had commented that Super Girl’s lunch looked like “A lot of vegetables”. Looking around, I don’t remember seeing any other kids in the class with fruit and I saw an awful lot of cans of sodas. Come on people! You are what you eat! Don’t turn your kids into JUNK FOOD.

Then it was on to the exhibits! All three rooms of exhibits. And one room was a ‘fossil dig’ room with a corner of it set up as a sand box where they could dig for ‘fossils’ and nothing else really. The next two hours were painful and tedious. I forced my kid and a couple others to walk through the other two rooms and do the ‘scavenger hunt’ to eat up some of the time. Then they all congregated in the Fossil Room to play in the sand. One little girl was such a brat – she proclaimed herself QUEEN and started bossing all the other kids in the sand around, I had the urge to go shove her off her perch and into the sand just to shut her up. Many of the kids just ignored her but several actually did what she said, so apparently she’s been playing this “Queen Of The Universe” roll for a while. It got so desperate to keep the kids occupied that part of our tour was going through the gift shop! I didn’t care, I just wanted it over – since we were inside now and had no where to stow any coats, I had the joy of carrying mine and our water bottles and Super Girls jacket. Wow, it was almost as much fun as going anywhere when my progeny was babies and required a pack mule full of diapers and bottles to accompany us.

Finally it was over, we were on the bus at 1 pm to wait for the rest of second grade to join us. The Natural Science Museum and Wildlife Sanctuary, blows. I’m lucky I got out with my sanity.

Yeah, I know, I bitch a lot.

Sending Out A Little Muppet Love


that's fabulous.


No this is NOT what I'm like on COFFEE... it's what I'm like on CUPCAKES! Thanks Sable for sending that one to me.

Nosferatu, is that you?

I think I discovered Cabbage Patch’s problem with MORNING. She’s a vampire. I don’t know why I didn’t realize it until this morning when she angrily screamed that she HATES THE LIGHT! All this time I thought it was just her being cranky, when in fact she has a fairly serious medical condition. Well she’s still going to have to go to school each morning… at least until she’s old enough for night school.

Last night I dreamed people were giving me gifts! It was fabulous! And in one of the bags there was stuff, like earrings and perfume but the BEST gift in the bag was an adorable pair of panties! Everyone thought I was an utter nut case for being so impressed with the panties instead of the perfume and earrings… well everyone except one person who made promise of certain naughty things when I wore them.

ALSO - in the dream at one point I walk past a table with various cupcakes and things on it and I notice one really cute little house on the table – it’s made from Twinkies! And now I have the insane urge to make a house out of Twinkies! Yeah, I know, I’m sick in the head. Gotta make lunch for the kids and shove them out the door. Have a great day!

Puke Fest 2 - The Sequel!

Did I say I thought this kid was getting better? I should know better than to tempt the fates. She just puked again. It's the first time today, but still... it's puke and it's again. Luckily this child is not as dramatic in her sickness and I have rarely had the sudden thought that maybe I should take her to the hospital. Still... I'm tired of being the mom right now. I am tired of cleaning up puke and washing towels.

I need a drink. And a vacation with hot sexy people waiting on me hand and foot. I'll settle for a nice cup of coffe right now.

I've been TAGGED!

I was tagged by the lovely Ash.

Five things you've never revealed on your blog, and then tag five people!

1) My middle name is Lynn and I hate it.

2) I have the worst taste in music. I mean HELL I love Barry Manilow! After all, he writes the songs that make the young girls cry… he writes the songs, he writes the songs.

3) I’d love to be an illustrator of children’s books but I’m very insecure about my artwork and I doubt anyone would want to own it. I’m insecure about my sewing as well.

4) I love my cats but I wish I didn’t have them any more.

5) I’d like to file for the big D very soon.


Now for the TAGGING.
I tag no one and anyone! Do this if you’d like – I would enjoy reading your answers if you feel like doing this.

On to other things, Super Girl seems to feel better today but lethargic. It appears that the actual Puke Fest part Deux was just last night as she hasn't vomited anymore today. Super Girl bounces back from illness much quicker than her sister (no what's that shit about breast fed babies being healtier? This one was my formula baby!). I'm cautiously optimistic that she's nearly over this.

When It Rains... Someone Pukes.

Isn't that how it goes? It's not? Well that's how it SEEMS to go at Casa de Karmically Challenged. Super Girl just started puking. One week after Cabbage Patch started her own puke fest, we are back at it. What did I do in my past life to deserve this?!?!?!?!?!

So ANYWAY... Anybody wanna come over for Puke Fest Part Deux? Can't guarantee her head will spin or anything, but I'll bet she can do that Linda Blair/pea soup thing. ;)

A Moment Of Silence Please...

I regret to inform you that after a brave showing that the cupcakes are no more. I too am saddned that their sugary goodness has left this moral coil. Their departure has left me with a great void in my life. The day seems a bit darker and slower without my sweet friend. Poor cupcake, I knew him well.

Madness of Dreams

I had a dream a couple of weeks ago that has clung to my brain like a sock sticking to a sweater fresh out of the dryer (hmmm… note to self, need to buy dryer sheets) and because it was so interesting (and by interesting I mean fucking bizarre) I felt the need (compulsion) to share it with you.

I was in a department store buying sheets for my bed – which is odd because every single bed in my home has at least 6 sets of sheets for it, no kidding 6 sets of sheets, it borders on obscene. And in the dream I KNEW this yet I stood there with my dream shopping companion debating thread count and cotton type when up come two people – a man and a woman. Apparently I know these people and we chat for a moment, they say something about needing a disguise for something and I’m all “Whatever, I’m buying sheets.” They go away and return shortly in disguise. They look like they came right out of that Dick In A Box video (not appropriate for work) except the girl was done up like the short dark haired guy in the video and it was way obvious that it was a girl dressed in drag – bad drag. The guy looks at the girl and says “Oh yeah, since you are making me do this, I am going to make you go out in public dressed like that.” Then they left the store and I woke up thinking “WTF? Was that Justin Timberlake?” (yeah it was).

Yeah, I know, that made no sense. Your welcome, have a lovely day.

CUPCAKES!!!!

Step One: Batter in the pan.



















Step Two: Fresh from the oven.



















Step Three: FROSTING!!! YAY!!!!

Watch It! I’m In A Mood!

Luckily it’s a GOOD one. So if you encounter me I’m liable to hug the breath out of you or tell you how cute you look in that shirt today (no really, you look amazing in that. I’ve always liked it. Every time I see you in it I have the urge to lick you. Hmmm? What? Where are you going? I haven’t finished making your cup of coffee. Oh fine, go if you must, you and your tasty shirt!) Yes despite having read the news this morning, having just dealt with 3 days of puking and now being 3 and a half days behind on my crap, I’m still in a GOOD mood. Not even knowing that I have laundry to fold and three more baskets of laundry to wash and dry can dampen my mood! In fact going into the newly cleaned laundry room makes me smile and want to dance with joy! Though I’ll just smile and refrain from the dancing – not much room in there, wouldn’t want to knock something over and make a new mess. Not even looking in the mirror and seeing that my hair looks like the ass end of a llama (a Peruvian long haired llama at that) can depress me (just made me think of knitting a sweater for some reason). I’m not going to let anything knock my mood either – I probably won’t even answer the phone today. I might even change my message to say “Hi, I can’t take your call today because I’m happy and I don’t want you to piss in my Wheaties. Leave a message and I probably won’t call you back.”

Wow, what a great day! I highly recommend that everyone start their day off with some kind of alcoholic beverage. (Oh don’t give me that look, you know I’m lactose intolerant, what else am I supposed to put on my Cheerios? They turn all cute and purple with a good merlot!) And now I’m off to make some coffee and cupcakes! Yes, yes, I am making cupcakes – I’ve had the urge to make cupcakes since Friday so this really crazy good mood has been just waiting to burst forth as we all know that cupcakes (the frosting that is) makes me just a wee bit hyper. I’ll be back later when the sugar buzz is well in place… unless of course I’ve decided to paint my bathroom cabinets… again (don’t ask) or maybe I’ll get on that whole lacquering the cats project. So I’m off! And honestly, you look fabulous today, no I’m not kidding, you do… in fact if you were here I’d probably make out with you while the cupcakes bake. Hmmm? What? Did I say that out loud?

Random Thoughts…



That’s a picture of my cat as drawn by Cabbage Patch. Looks just like her also. Except my cat has all four legs… and two eyes… and her tail doesn’t look like a bright orange sausage hanging off a three legged pumpkin with a cat head shaped tumor. Although if she was a three legged pumpkin with a cat head shaped tumor, she probably wouldn’t have tried to kill the guy I’ve been dating! Let me tell you, One nice guy who’s allergic to cats + my two ever so furry felines = a very bad end to the evening. Suffice to say there will be no more dinners hosted at Casa de Karmically Challenged until I’ve gotten the cats lacquered… and all the carpet ripped up… and all my cloth furniture replaced (after the feline lacquering of course). Nothing makes for a memorable date like having one’s eyes swell up. Good times.

Speaking of other GOOD TIMES….

Thursday morning at about 8 am I get a call from the school that Cabbage Patch threw up in the cafeteria and can I come get her. I fetch her from the nurse’s office and let her lay on the couch with a pot to throw up in – just in case. She didn’t really seem all that sick when I picked her up so I figured that she probably wouldn’t need the pot. Oh how wrong I was. My progeny threw up all day long. At one point I tried to get her to walk to the bathroom so I could get her cleaned up and she made it half way there before just giving up and lying on the floor. Oh dear, she was quite sick. I ended up carrying her. Then that night I had her all set up on the couch where I contorted my body onto the foot of the couch so I could watch over her and not bother her too much. She dismissed me about 1 am, telling me to turn off the kitchen light because it bothered her (said in a kind of sick whiney voice) and saying I could go to my bed. Since her fever had broken and her puking had stopped hours ago, I went to bed.

Friday morning I put her in bed with me while Super Girl got ready for school. I figured it would be best to keep her if for no other reason than the fever she had late in the day. Luckily I had the forethought enough to bring her pot into the bedroom and let her sleep on the edge of the bed because she puked about 8:30 am. By 9 am she seemed to be feeling better even though I was still feeling like crap and sore in many places from trying to sleep on a tiny corner of the sofa. I finally got up and got some aspirin. Cabbage Patch opted to stay in my bed the rest of the day. Mid day she started running a fever. *sigh* So I spent the rest of the day going into my bed room every 30 minutes to check her fever and get her to drink some Gatorade. By the time Super Girl got home at 4 pm, she seemed to be feeling a little better though to ask her she would now say “I don’t know” as being this sick is just foreign to her.

She finally moved back to the sofa about 4:30 pm. I’m thinking she’s getting better! YAY! And I’m making plans for us to make cupcakes on Saturday while K is at his big gay convention with his boyfriend.

6:30 pm or so, the puking starts again! Her fever is back also and she’s just lying on the sofa. Time for a consult with someone all knowing and all powerful. Time to call GRANDMA (who just happens to be a doctor)!

After describing the symptoms (me: It’s like a freaking vomitorium over here! Except without the party or the Greeks – just the VOMIT!), Dr. Grandma assured me that she wasn’t dieing, it sounded like a case of this nasty stomach virus going around and as long as she stays hydrated there is no reason to panic (her: *slapping me like that chick in ‘Airplane’* Get a hold of yourself! Surely it can’t be that bad! Me: It’s almost that bad, and don’t call me Shirley!).

Again with the sofa vigil. Again with the back ache this morning.

Today, she’s been on the sofa most of the time. She threw up once this morning – first thing. I spent most of today trying to occupy Super Girl (who’s getting jealous of the attention her sister is getting), check on Cabbage Patch’s persistent fever and continue to make her drink fluids.

I did manage to get my laundry room cleaned out (it was a GREAT way to occupy an 8 year old who I was tired of hear complain about wanting to be sick like her sister) .

And now, I’m hopeful that Cabbage Patch is on the mend. She threw up one more time today, but seemed to be feeling better later – she ate some noodles for dinner and wanted me to give her a manicure and pedicure after – ah the curative powers of sparkly polish. She’s sleeping now, was running a fever an hour ago though.

And me? I’m exhausted, I have a headache and my stomach has been a tad queasy today – I’m thinking it’s probably stress from expending all of my energy worrying about a 5 year old.

Oh and the cutest thing – Cabbage Patch doesn’t really understand what ‘weak’ means so when I asked her if she was feeling weak she said “No, my legs are just sleepy.” And on that note, I’m off to bed because my whole body is feeling a tad sleepy.

Mental Spring Break Down

So Spring Break for the Little People started Friday and you know what that means… I spent half of last week crying uncontrollably and drinking heavily in preparation for a week and a day of ‘togetherness’ with my progeny. The other part of the week I spent soliciting people for hand outs of antidepressants and suggestions of what to do with my offspring for ONE WEEK AND ONE DAY.

D and I came to an agreement where in I would take Coco the Wonder Dog and she would take the Tiny Terrorists from today until Tuesday. I’m not sure how that worked out exactly, I don’t remember us gambling and her losing or her being all that drunk recently but who am I to argue! Before noon today she whisked the Tiny Terrorists off to an undisclosed location for terrorist training. (She hinted at it being somewhere South West of here and this time away involving a hotel with an indoor pool and a theme park, but HAH! I know better. I know they are headed for a state of the art terrorist training facility. Bravo D, bravo for getting them in on such short notice. I await their demonstrations of home explosives and cute little My First Manifesto coloring books.) I of course get ALL the FUN! I have Coco and a hankering to dye a dog!

I just returned from the store with a bag full of supplies for coloring a pooch. I promise there will be photos!

I apologize for not posting sooner. No excuses, I just suck that’s all.

As for other news… I’m doing a shit load of spring cleaning since it’s nearly spring and Casa De Karmically Challenged is an utter shit hole. If I don’t post so much in the near future, well that’s probably why. Be forewarned, if you DO decide to send out a search party, I will gladly invite them in and refuse to let them leave until they help with the sorting and putting away and dusting and such.

And other, other news. I interviewed for a JOB a week ago Thursday. This was for a photography job at a big ass photo studio. I did not get said job. Boo hoo. Ah well, it’s no big deal, what with the kids on Spring Break this week I would have had to either kennel the kids while I worked or invest in an ass load of duct tape.

**** Later***
Fuck, well it’s 11:30 pm on Monday and I started writing this on Saturday. I think someone slipped some roofies in my coffee or maybe I took a handful of Bendadryl and passed out for the weekend because I couldn’t manage to get this fucking post done.

Update: D has taken the kids to San Antonio for fun at 6 Flags in SA – which they got thrown out of and D is lucky she didn’t get arrested (all Super Girl’s fault… or should I say Destruction’s fault), paid $35 for a pizza that was all wrong and spent a LONG time on the phone with me (passing the phone to my offspring so that I could promise her that grounding and toilet scrubbing were part of her future when she returns). AMAZINGLY enough D decided NOT to kennel my progeny and took them to the river walk and various other places to have fun today. The Tiny Terrorists apparently decided that they would forgo the crazy pills this morning and they all had a most pleasant day which included them begging for lunch of street vendor hotdogs, taking photos by some eloquent graffiti and requesting tattoos (for which D had to phone me so they both could ask me if they could get one to which I promised them that when they turned 18 they could get any tat they wanted and get whatever they wanted pierced).

But other than that… well I’ve been cleaning today. Tomorrow will be sewing and probably more cleaning and sorting and crap. D is keeping the Little People for another day so YAY! I might actually get something finished!

This is so weird; I keep thinking it’s a day ahead of what it is. I think I’m just going crazy.

Also… I’m totally on the brink of something absolutely wonderful – but I’m not going to talk about it because I’m completely superstitious and I’d totally hate to jinx myself. (Go ahead, laugh at me, it is stupid)

Just Phoning It In..

What Kind of Coffee are You?

You're a Cappicinno! Take this quiz! Quizilla | Join | Make A Quiz | More Quizzes | Grab Code

hehehehe floating like the foam on top... that's awesome, it sounds somewhat naughty even.

You scored as midori. sweet and eaisly taken, you are midori. you love to have fun with your close friends and although you look pretty harmless, you can cause damage if you want to! absinthe 92% rum 92% midori 92% vodka 83% beer 79% champagne 75% daiquaries 58% wine 58% bourbon 46% whiskey 46% what alcoholic drink are you (pictures) created with QuizFarm.com

hahahahahah... I look harmless!

I Love Terrorists!

Your 'Do You Want the Terrorists to Win' Score: 81%

You are a terrorist-loving scoundrel who hates our dear leader and the values he defends. There are few redeeming qualities about you. You most likely celebrated when the evil-doers hit us on 9/11, then opposed the Iraq war when we tried to pay them back. You hurt us at every step and cause troops to die in the field by questioning Bush's decisions. You are most likely a lost cause, doomed to be a brainwashed victim of free thought and liberalism forever. No dose of Ann Coulter's prose can save you now.

Do You Want the Terrorists to Win?
Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

As if THIS is a shock. I did give birth to The Tiny Terrorists.

The Girl Scout Cookie Da Vinci Code

I’ve sat here for hours trying to figure this crap out. I’ve had all the forms laid out as I look at the spreadsheet. I’ve cross referenced and added. I’ve counted and figured and the fucking numbers don’t jive. I’ve added the amounts I’ve been paid and the amounts I still have to collect and the numbers DON’T add up. I’ve talked to the Girl Scout cookie person and got the amount of what I SHOULD have left to collect and fuck if it doesn’t add up either. I feel like that guy from the Da Vinci Code. Fucking Girl Scout cookies. I’ve decided that the numbers are BAD and EVIL. That math is a creation by Satan himself and that this particular mathematical error is some dark voodoo meant to drive me to utter insanity. It has worked. Please minions of Satan, just make it stop! I don’t want to be counting boxes and adding figures in my sleep!

Wildlife

This morning when I dropped off K at work I saw not one but TWO COYOTES! Right there off 121 where they are doing a lot of construction. They were so damn cute I just wanted to stop the car and run out to cuddle their cute little furry rabid selves!

I was so excited by my sight of coyotes that I had to call K and tell him. He was just confused at first not understanding what I could possibly be talking about. So I just told him to not get bitten.

More Cuteness!

How about a nice cuddly case of the flu? Or maybe an adorable case of the clap? Don’t look for any penicillin to clear these babies up – you won’t want them to! I want them all! Come on, couldn't you just die from the cuteness of this sweet little heartworm! If you can ignore those eyes, well your heart is a black lump of coal and you eat puppies for breakfast so we can't be friends.

OHHHH! My FAVORITE!!! Someone needs to get me this adorable case of MAD COW DISEASE!!! I am in LOVE!

K Needs To Stop Trying To Murder Me

Or

I’m just a stupid ho

The other day K brought home ice cream in the groceries (why do I trust him to shop alone?? When will he learn that chips and queso are NOT a food group??). This shopping trip he brought back much better fare for us as only one meal was completely comprised of fried foods (fish sticks and French fries). But I digress. K brought home ice cream. An obvious attempt to KILL me as I am lactose intolerant AND I lack any self control when said ice cream has ribbons of fudge and is loaded with chunks of brownies (just a note here, that was false advertising – there are the delectable ribbons of fudge but as far as the brownies… well not so LOADED as they promise… but not the less, quite tasty). Yesterday after eating a small bowl of ice cream I lay on the couch wondering if my stomach would explode or if I should practice burping my A-B-C’s. It was painful. I blame K. I blame him for most everything though. I think from now on I should stick to CUPCAKES or COOKIES for my sugar rushes.

Moving on…

Today is a most fabulous and amazing day! I’m so thrilled! It’s so beautiful outside! The temps today are supposed to be in the 70’s!! So you know what that means don’t you?? It means it is warm enough to wear THE SHOES!!!!! I have them on now. (See the picture) I swear the car drove better with new shoes. I love my shoes!

Can you smell me now?

Last night as I prepared a most disgusting dinner of fish sticks and French fries, Cabbage Patch engaged in the most bizarre of behaviors. I walked back into the living room to see her sitting on the sofa in her panties spraying her father’s cologne under her arms, and then rubbing it in. I said to her “Umm… stop that. That’s your daddy’s cologne. It’s not deodorant.” And she said “It smells good!” Crazy child.

Well I’m off to deliver some Girl Scout Cookies. If you haven’t gotten yours from me yet, WHY THE HELL NOT? Call me, give me money and I’ll give you cookies.

I CAN NOT BELIEVE THAT BITCH!

Less than 12 hours after waking up on my sofa in a pool of my own drool and shaking out the cobwebs from my Benadryl drug binge, I read THIS SHIT ABOUT BRITNEY!!! THIS is a DIRECT affront to ME! Talk about transparent. That trite little whore could have waited a week to make her move, but NOOOOOO she had to do it on the SAME day. Bitch.

I totally understand she feels threatened by me and the strong competition I pose for her. After all I AM unemployed AND I have a gay husband – that is damn strong showing for Ghetto Mamma Of The Year and when you add in that I DO live next door to a *ahem* ‘former gang member’, I truly do have an unfair advantage. I mean what does she have? 2 babies by a deadbeat, unwashed, coat tail riding mimbo with no talent - oh pardon me that's her EX. I know she’s publicly nearly dropped one of her kids and dressed like a retarded trailer park hooker, but come on – I’ve dropped my kids before! I’ve got a complete collection of wife beaters to wear! I can ‘forget’ to wear my panties to the club. DAMN, that’s amateur shit.

It’s fine, if wants a war, then she can have it. I say to Britney – BRING IT HO! I can out ghetto you ANY DAY!

To be honest, it’s just an obviously desperate move by a desperate woman. She LEAVES rehab just hours after finding out about my Benadryl binge, shaves her head and heads to a tattoo parlor. I honestly think the judges should count off for that move – far to desperate and obvious. But in this competition desperate and obvious is almost as good as giving one of the judges a hummer while he snorts coke off your head… which she can do really well now.

I refuse to sink to her level and make sloppy desperate moves, because that kind of shit is just going to land her ass in court appointed rehab which will only end up making her look like a GOOD MOTHER. Just ask Courtney Love about that. My complete outrage by this personal attack has subsided and I’ve had a few moments to formulate a well thought out plan. I’ve been discussing much of this with my Gay Boyfriend Savol for the past few days, so don’t think this is some gut reaction to Ms. Spears actions of late.

Step one – I’ll continue my gang affiliation with my *ahem* ‘former gang member’ neighbor. You have got to love any man who says he’ll answer his door with his ‘cock in one hand and his glock in the other’. Well maybe not love, but RESPECT and as we all know the ghetto is all about RESPECT.

Step two – the gay husband angle seems to work pretty well for this so I think I’ll keep status quo on that.

Step three – employment… or should I say unemployment. Again if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it… or employ it. It worked well for K Fed.

Step four – get my already very classy tat enhanced. I’m thinking of getting some lettering added to it. Something profound like “FUK U!” or “I *heart* COCK”. Still working on the exact phrasing. Because just GOING to get a tat doesn’t get one noticed, I plan to take my offspring with me – sort of as an educational field trip, and to hold my 40 when it hurts. My angle is to also show up at said tattoo establishment wearing a really short skirt sans panties and hope for a discount. Again this is will benefit my progeny by illustrating real world business actions in ways that selling Girl Scout cookies never can.

Step five – I need to work on getting a dead beat boyfriend. Some bad ass thug I can refer to as my “baby daddy”. It won’t be entirely true, but who cares. I believe that having two men to refer to as my “baby daddy” can only add to my claim. Connections with above mentioned neighbor should help aquiring one nicely (haven’t had much luck at thugdatinglife.com).

Step six – Don’t get so high/drunk as to actually shave my head. I mean WHAT the fuck was she thinking??? The dyke/lesbian head shaving thing is soooooooo Demi Moore/GI Jane circa 1997 or 1980’s Sinead O’Connor and you know that look did not work for EITHER of them… well, not Demi, but it did sort of work for Sinead, but whatever. It’s used and it’s old and it’s just plain creepy.

As you see I have a VERY strong position and as long as Ms. Spears doesn’t suddenly become BFFs with Courtney Love, this time next year I should be thanking all of you for your kind support as I accept my award of Ghetto Mamma Of The Year.

High Everybody

I took some allergy tablets and now I’m a little high. And by a little I mean that if I had of had to take a train or a bus to a job type place this morning I would have ended up waking up under a bridge with a whole new set of friends, a head full of lice and no shoes.

Shit every time I sit on the couch I pass out like Liza Minnelli at 4 in the afternoon. It’s disturbing. I swear I followed the instructions precisely! I avoided alcoholic drinks (and alcoholics too), I experienced excitability, especially around children, and I definitely did not exceed the recommended dosage of 1 or 2 tablets… though maybe that LSD chaser was a bit much.

*hours later*

Okay my brain has completely cleared (I know, it’s a first). Don’t ask about all that crap earlier this morning – let’s just say Benadryl is now my party drug of choice. And by party I mean being passed out on the couch drooling on myself while Sponge Bob blares on the TV and the cats try to suffocate me repeatedly. Eh, whatever. It was fun. I think I had a phone call or two. Did you call me? Did I offer you anything? Did you promise me money or babysitting services? Can that be considered ‘legal and binding’? Ah whatever! It’s all good, right?

I’m #5!!

Yay! Someone found this blog by searching ‘getting through airport with expired license’ and I was #5 on the list! Woohoo! Just take a look! I would not be surprised if I get contacted by the local chapter of Al-Qaeda (probably membership drive time). How fun! I’ll bring the Benadryl and Girl Scout cookies. Anyway – what the heck is a Blingo anyway? Is it sanctioned by the local terrorist chapter?

In The News (pretending like I really care)

I just read this article (the headlines anyway) about how pregnant women who eat fish may have smarter kids. Yeah whatever, I might have felt even the tiniest bit guilty about only eating pizza and hamburgers while pregnant with Super Girl if weren’t for the fact that despite that she’s damn smart. It’s all a load of crap, I just read another article about how breastfed babies were supposed to be smarter also – yeah whatever, I suppose me breast feeding Cabbage Patch for a year is why she’s not quite GETTING this kindergarten thing. No worries, my kid failing kindergarten will only help in my chances for Ghetto Mom Of The Year, right?

Or how about this? Peanut butter contaminated with salmonella. Ewww… As if kids aren’t gross enough without those symptoms! (‘It can cause diarrhea, fever, dehydration, abdominal pain and vomiting.’ To quote the article.) I enjoy in the article where they say “The suspect peanut butter”. I have this image of a peanut butter line up at the local police department. But on a serious note, I hope this all gets taken care of soon – I’d hate for my offspring to starve to death!

And of course it’s almost time for the Chinese New Year! The year of the PIG starts this weekend. It’s my year, I happened to have been born in the year of the Pig. “According to Chinese astrology, people born in pig years are polite, honest, hardworking and loyal.” Oh yeah baby, that’s me. Although it did say “They are also lucky…” Dude, seriously? I haven’t won the lottery yet. I’m not sure that whole gay husband thing would be considered lucky either. Unless of course by LUCKY they mean that people born in the year of the PIG get LUCKY a lot. And in that area… yeah well, it’s all bullshit, but it’s a great excuse to go out and get some Chinese food and get drunk!

On that note, I think I’ll go finish the laundry.

PS - have you noticed all the COOL links I've been adding these past couple of posts? They are all for you baby! Click them all! You know you want to! I'll make you popular!

It’s Only February and I’m Already Out Of The Running

For what you might be asking. For that oh so coveted position of Mother Of The Year of course. I’m usually still in the running for a couple of more months before some heinous unthinking act by me ruins my chances for the year. Today was my day for a quick decent into the depths of the parental abyss of atrocities. I had the gall to take away Super Girls brand new rainbow colored Barbie DVD remote thingy. Oddly enough earlier in the evening when the Tiny Terrorists had ignited my ire by getting the bathroom floor wet while bathing and I had punished them by making them take out the trash in my bathroom (yes, be forewarned, don’t leave my bathroom floor wet or you too will have to take out the trash in there – and believe me that’s just NASTY!), but THAT had not taken me out of the running. Not even my serving them a fabulous dinner of Italian chicken with pasta and zucchini and squash (which they mostly refused to eat because it wasn’t macaroni and cheese or peanut butter and jelly) earned me enough negative marks for me to lose any ground. Taking that stupid gay pride Barbie thingy away sure as hell did though. And OHHHHH the drama. Super Girl did her best wounded and orphaned calf impression and mooed all the way up the stairs and in to bed. For a good 15 minutes after I sent them off to bed I heard that awful barn yard noise and Cabbage Patch yelling at her sister to SHUT UP! It was fabulous.

Well now that I’m officially out of the running I can at least relax a bit and not feel bad about having my kids hold my tequila bottle while I line up shots for my friends or duct taping them to the closet door when I need a night out at the club. If I’m damn lucky I might even manage to kick Brittany Spears ass in the Ghetto Mother Of the Year Award… though I suspect I might just have to get one of my kids addicted to crack to achieve that.

Pharmaceuticals To Make Life Better

Yesterday I had a Dr. appointment. No, not the head shrink Dr. I don’t go there anymore, just my regular GP. It was just a follow up visit to make sure the acid blockers (Prevacid) prescribed for my reflux are working – and they are. The visit took all of 5 minutes and in the 5 minutes that my Dr’s assistant spoke to me I became convince she was either smoking crack or one of those hippie homeopathic “Doctors” as she followed up her question of how well the prescription was working for me with this statement “I’m going to give you a prescription with 6 months of refills on it and then we’ll see about getting you off them completely.” I said “Uhhhh…” and luckily for me my expression said quite a bit (probably “Are you out of your fucking mind?”) because she said “I see you have doubts about getting off them.” I said “I’ve been on them for a long time… like 10 years or more.” And before I could add anything she said some shit about the makers of this delightful drug suggest people only stay on their drug for a certain amount of time, yadda, yadda, yadda. I don’t know what she said after that, my mind sort of blanked out and was full of vivid imagery of me plotting her death and my wondering what the hell kind of ‘doctor’ she was for wanting someone to be off a major pharmaceutical? Did the makers of my pills stop sending her gifts? Was she tired of the samples and pens they give? I wanted to tell her that unless the magical fairies had suddenly crapped a whole load of magical pixie dust on her giving her some special power to make my horrible reflux disappear that getting me off the Prevacid for good wasn’t in the cards. I’m not psychic but I’ve been off the pills before and it’s a little uncomfortable and somewhat painful for me. That is if you were to consider someone holding a blow torch to any part of your body for ‘uncomfortable’ and if by ‘painful’ you mean the feeling of your entire body being bitten by red ants – then my stomach is uncomfortable and painful without the medication. Me personally, I’d prefer to avoid all that, I’d prefer not to have my stomach acids boiling like an angry volcano and I’d definitely prefer to not have my stomach acids trying to eat a hole through my esophagus. I’m just funny like that. She’s out of her damn mind.

I figured the next visit in 6 months will have to be with my primary dr. and not this chick as I KNOW for a fact my primary Dr. is paid off by the drug companies – she’s the QUEEN of the samples! I have yet to visit her and not leave the office with out at least a 6 week supply of whatever she has on hand.

Moving on now…

Kindergarten Valentine’s

Today when Cabbage Patch got off the bus, she was nearly bursting with jubilation. It was quite cute. Her extreme enthusiasm was caused by none other than Valentine’s Day! To be exact, the fact that SHE HAD GOTTEN VALENTINES! AND! CANDY! I couldn’t help but laugh at her joy over her first school Valentine’s party and how great it was that she had a box full of cheap sappy pieces of paper and some crappy candy (and a temporary tattoo!). It was the cutest thing in the whole fucking world. Damn she’ll be funny when she has her first boyfriend… which is not going to happen until she’s 20... or 30. Sheesh… I think I threw up a little bit in my mouth.

Valentine’s Part II Blame The Man

K relayed this story that brought tears to my eyes. Tears of pride in my tiny little girls. Pride that the genetics of being a WOMAN have taken hold in my offspring. When K got home from work – shortly after they went to bed, he went upstairs to tell them to quiet down, go to bed and good night. The first thing they asked was if he got them a Valentine. His completely incorrect response was “I thought your mother handled that, didn’t she buy some chocolates yesterday.” Super Girl responded “*sigh* Those were for school dad.” She’s only just now 8 and she already knows it’s the mans fault… always.

As for me, well I really didn’t expect BOB to go shopping for me. I did however give him some fresh batteries. ;-) And nothing says love like BOB with fresh batteries.

Birthday Survived…

Somehow Super Girl survived her birthday despite the intense amounts of whining that happened and her really horrible smart assed attitude I swear, if she answered me with "But It's MY birthday!" one more time, I'd be looking for a place to hide her body right now.


This next part of hell, I blame on K because it was HIS idea. We took the Tiny Terrorists to Super Target last night so Super Girl (AKA Destruction of Chaos and Destruction) could choose her present. While he braved the pink and purple ales of girl toys I took the cart and the Cabbage Patch (AKA Chaos) off to find a few items I needed. Then the real torture began.



As I pushed the cart away from the hypnotic pink and purple section, Chaos began chanting "I want a toy" over and over like a little robot. A little whiny robot. Using my super human mother skills, I blocked out most of the whining to until it was just a dull hum in the back ground.



After picking up the things I needed, I headed to the bakery section to check out the selections of birthday cakes. Usually I let her select her own cake, but seeing as there was a rather small selection of cakes I felt confident in selecting one and not giving her the option of the frightening looking cupcakes with small plastic toys nestled in rainbow icing. Then came the HARD part, though I didn't imagine that it would be. I wanted 'Happy Birthday Destruction' (well her actual name) written on the cake. I ask someone hovering around the bakery/deli area if someone could write on the cake for me. He looked at me blankly and said he'd ask someone. He went to ask someone then came back to tell me that the person who could write on the cake was on her dinner break. I looked at him, expecting him to start laughing and say he was joking any second... but he didn't so I said "No one else can write on the cake?" Again with the blank stare. Then he saw the store manager walking through so he called him over and told him my situation. Seeing the store manager I had a tiny spark of hope upon seeing his pretty red shirt and big boy badge. That was false hope though, it often feels much like REAL hope but then kind of tastes like you just threw up in your mouth. The store manager was apparently reading off the same script as the other worker; he told me that the girl who could write on cakes was on her dinner break. So I asked him the same question "No one else can write on the cake?" and he said "Well they probably could but it might not look good." I started to get pissed right then, I cut him a look that should have made his brain explode had he possessed one and asked him sternly "Can you at least put something on the cake? A Barbie something or those Disney Princess rings?" He grudgingly said yes and took the cake. When he came back it had 4 little plastic Disney Princess rings on top of it. At first I was thrilled, and then I saw that it was two sets of the same rings. Not going to work… Chaos and Destruction have been brain washed by the Disney Industry and they identify themselves by two certain princesses (in fact Chaos at that very moment was asking if one of the rings was HER princess). I asked the manager if these were the only ones they had. He started to say yes but I guess the semi-homicidal look on my face made him reconsider, and he handed over the bag of plastic rings to me mumbling something about me just taking what I wanted. And I did.



I had no idea that it took a fucking degree to write on a cake. Who knew?



K suffered through the pink and purple section and met us at the check out with Destruction holding up the latest and greatest offering by Mattel triumphantly. Ahhh a rainbow fairy Barbie something. I shouldn't have been surprised by that being that she was shopping with her gay daddy.



And finally it was over. In a sugar coated cloud of rainbow Barbie princess madness it was over and the kids were in bed.

It’s My Party And I’ll Whine If I Want Too…

Holy shit! What the hell happened to my child? Why the hell is she whining and being a BRAT?? And when I told her she had to sit in time out for back talking me she looked right at me and said “No! It’s my birthday!” to which I responded “Keep that up and your birthday will be over right now.” Well whatever, she’s in the corner right now cursing me mentally for being such a bitch on her birthday. Which is fine because I’m mentally envisioning her tightly duct taped to the wall. It’s all good.

On to other things…

Last night at dinner the waitress came to the table to get our order and immediately commented on my hair and asked me if it was naturally red to which I answered that it wasn’t. For the next 5 minutes she asked me questions on how I keep it so fabulously red and I gave her coloring tips and suggestions. Then she took our order. My date thought this was quite funny. Later when my date asked for some egg rolls she was more than happy to bring them as well as more rice and anything else we needed. My date started teasing me that the waitress had a crush on me which prompted me to laugh and tell him to shut up. When we were leaving the waitress yells “Thanks for the tips!... I mean the hair care tips!” and more snickers and jibes from the date. A surreal moment.

Dr. Offices Suck!

I had a follow up visit with my Dr. just to check that my prescription is working well (and it is). I waited 20 minutes before I got called into the office – that was fine, my appointment was at 3 pm and I went in right at 3 pm. Then I waited 43 minutes before the dr. came in, and the visit lasted less than 10 minutes. I was back in my car by 3:50 pm. Crazy.

I need a nap.

More Random Crap Cluttering Up My Brain

Super Girl turned 8 this morning. 8 years of being a mom. How the fuck did that happen? She wore the “Birthday Girl” pin to school today. It’s a tradition here. Everyone (except K) wears the button on their birthday. I was going to surprise her and put it on her this morning, but she started asking about it before I could even start to look for it. It’s cute… to me.

She had a breakfast of cookies because damn it, she wanted that and who the hell am I to deprive her of a cookie breakfast on her birthday? I sent a box of Girl Scout cookies to school with her to be shared with her class for her birthday. Tonight will be birthday cake (she already requested that this morning), but come on, aren’t birthdays all about the sugar rush? Well that’s what I’m looking forward to.

Speaking of children, as much as I’m in shock that I’ve been doing this mom thing for 8 years, I’m still stunned that my best friend has a brand new bambino. It seemed like that baby would never be born and now that she’s here, well it’s just not real yet. Super Girl mentioned the other day that she was mildly disappointed that Miss Shana’s baby wasn’t born on her birthday. Kids.

And now, before you all start to throw up in your mouths; I’ll stop talking about kids…

Is it a coincidence that my neighbor is just a tad friendlier to me since he saw me letting Coco out a few weeks ago at 4:30 am in my nightgown? Don’t give me that look. It was 4:30 am, how was I to know that he’d be out on his porch smoking a cigarette? No one in their right mind is up at 4:30 am – I mean other than small white puffy dogs trying to make me crazy. I think I really need to start wearing clothes around the house from now on, as much as it may disappoint the UPS guy.

D just got back from China. With GIFTS. And knowledge. I now know how to say “Shut up” in Chinese. She told me a couple of other interesting and fun insulting phrases, but I can’t remember them. One of the coolest things she brought back is this most awesome ceramic cricket! I LOVE it! I’ve always wanted a ceramic cricket – really, I have. It’s so cute; I have no idea where to put it so it’s in a box by the monitor and I open it up to pet it several times a day. What? Stop looking at me like that!



My new favorite movie! OVER THE HEDGE! I love, love, love that movie. I love Hammy the squirrel. I am a red squirrel. *hearts and stars spinning around head for squirrel love*

I’ve been reading lately. No! Really! I have! I know it’s hard to imagine me doing that, but I do. I finished a book in early January and then another one and then I started this book that I’m reading now – I’m almost done with this book but it’s a fucking struggle to finish it. Because it’s so fucked up! And THAT is what is compelling me to FINISH the book. I wont’ tell you what book it is because I don’t want anyone to tell me the ending or worse to laugh at me just yet (no it’s not one of the Dick and Jane books, I’m WAY beyond that reading level fuckers). But I’ll finish it soon and post an all important REVIEW!!

Wow… cookies for breakfast really do rock. Off to shower.

Because I Lack Any Time For Anything Interesting To Say

Leo Since you are such an attention craver, you are into wearing the sexiest clothes and going straight for the sexiest person in the room. You like secure people who are genuine and have a good fashion sense. In bed, you like to get all of the attention, so you need a partner who can worship you for the hottie that you are. You like to dance and strip for your partner and you enjoy buying the sexiest lingere for yourself. Sex matches: Aries, Sagittarius, Libra Take this quiz at QuizUniverse.com

Me? Go figure!

I need a partner who can worship me for the hottie that I am - That's gotta be my favorite line.