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.