Filling Space And Amuseing Myself!

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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!

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

I Rate!

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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. ;)

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.