all crazy things must come to an end...

Christmas has come and gone for yet another year. I love the holiday. It is by far my favorite, but it sure does zap your energy and patience towards the end. I had to keep remind myself to slow down yesterday. Take a breath and enjoy everyone and the zany things they do. Try to not growl when Hannah ask me to open yet another Barbie box. Why do they attach Barbies into the boxes with 40 twist ties? And they sew their hair to the box?? Huh?? Just, why? I was so tired of opening them by the end of the day. But then I watch her take their little shoes off (to be sucked up by the vacuum later this week-stay tuned) and play with their hair and change their clothes. She is in little girl heaven. Justin is in little boy heaven too, but he is so absorbed in video games, I have a hard time actually seeing the joy first hand. I think Matt gets Justin's joy more then I do. Ry is just funny playing with his stuff. And everyone else's stuff. We were cracking up watching him play last night. He goes from painting his face with Hannah's new makeup kit, to running around with a light saber and a Darth Vader helmet on. It's this stuff I have to take in and enjoy. Soon enough they'll be opening boxes with boring stuff like clothes.
Hope everyone enjoyed their Christmas! Twist tied toys and all.

enough with the list already...

so why bother making a list? I crossed off so very little and just added more to it. Blah.
In my defense, I did get the bathrooms clean and got a mountain of laundry clean. Of course now I have to put a mountain of clothes away and flip out every time someone uses a toilet. I quietly pondered making them use the great outdoors instead of dirtying my clean potties, but that might have gotten a little weird with the neighbors and the public park behind us and all. But I digress...in the end, I am allowing my family to carefully pee in toilets and begging them not to make me clean them again until Christmas is long over. Or at least Dec 26th.
Added to my list are small gifts for the neighborhood children. Apparently we were exchanging them?? No one told me. Silly me, I assumed that the children's gift swap at the neighborhood party served this purpose. Guess not. Either way, I am shopping the dollar store for them because I refuse to drop a ton of cash on it. Go ahead, call me scrooge.
I also added a couple of other things that I have already forgotten because I am refusing to write shit down this week. I'll remember later and freak out all over again. It's all good.
None of it matters because tomorrow I am entering the 7th level of hell. I must do all of my Christmas shopping with all of the other last minute shoppers. In my head, I think that finding a parking spot will send me into mad screaming fits, let alone actually entering stores and standing in lines. Just thinking about it makes my head spin. My answer to all of this is to force my husband to stop in the middle of the day and take me to my current favorite food spot so I can eat some good grub :) My other answer to the mess is to shrug my shoulders and just go with it. If we can't find everything on the list, we'll find something else. To quote Tom Cruise before he became a raging, couch jumping, cradle robbing, know-it-all jackass, "sometimes you just have to say, what the fuck". I think I'll be saying it a lot tomorrow. My sister is watching the kids for us so I won't be saying it in front of them. I am thanking God for my sister and her willingness to stay with them. Dragging the 3 of them around with us tomorrow would mean adding another stop or 5 to the liquor store.
Dear Santa: all I want for Christmas is sanity.

this list that never ends...

Amy's to-do...

1. make teacher cards. have son sign cards and remind him 14 times to actually deliver cards today at school.

2. bake, bake, and bake some more. I have had one batch of cookies so far turn out good, the rest have been horrible.

3. go to grocery and find cookies that look homemade to pass off to Santa.

4. go to liquor store.

5. pick up ornaments that have fallen off (or been knocked off) of the tree AGAIN.

6. purchase almost all of our gifts. i still have 4 days, right? **twitch** **twitch**

7. go to liquor store.

8. wrap all of the *&^% -ing gifts.

9. threaten to call Santa's cell phone (shut up, it is 2006- you know he has one now!) for the 137th time this month.

10. build a robo-mom to clean my house.

11. realize robo-mom needs the same damn batteries that everything else in this house needs that WE DON'T HAVE.

12. throw robo-mom in the yard.

13. go to liquor store.

14. clean house and threaten children with bodily harm and a call to Santa's cell if they touch anything or pee even a drop outside of the toilet. (Matt this goes for you too)

15. go to grocery for the 20th time this week.

16. go to liquor store.

17. Pick up ornaments that have fallen off the tree AGAIN. Throw ornaments and tree out in the yard with robo-mom.

i want it all....

there is a very, very fine line that most kids are walking this time of year. My six year old is falling off to one side right now. It's that line between being a greedy rat bastard and just being a normal kid who wants a lot of cool stuff. I like to think he is more on the normal kid side, but all I have heard for days is what he wants. My kids do not lack much. I hate to call them spoiled, but they have a lot of stuff. This boy of mine, whined at the neighborhood Christmas party because the Transformer he got in the gift exchange was a small one, not a big one. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment at his behavior. I know that kids are prone to bratty nature at this time of year, but I feel like by ignoring it and calling it "just being a kid" it makes it seem like that is OK to me. It is not. I lectured him when we got home and then again yesterday we talked about the spirit of the season, and how good it makes you feel to do for others instead of concentrating on making a list in your head of all the stuff you want to have.
I don't think most of it penetrated his head. He just nodded at me and then went back to whatever he was doing. Am I being a nag? Probably. I ended our little discussion last night by telling him if he dared look around on Christmas day after opening his pile-o-presents and say "is that it?" (isn't that every mother's nightmare?? Tell me it is, and it's not just me) I was going to pack up all of his gifts and take them to a child who deserved them. That struck a little fear into his face.
On another Christmas-y note, I now have a prominent twitch in my left eye. Love that. I'm thinking that's a sure sign of stress and I can't fix it until Friday. That, my friends, makes me want to twitch more.

because apparently I need to be told more than once...

more than 4 glasses of wine = hellacious hangover

and why do I never remember to pop 2 advil before going to sleep (passing out in this case) ??

On the bright side, I was so drunk, I didn't even notice my screaming feet. Problem solved!

pretend these shoes don't make your feet bleed...

we have an evening out tonight. Matt's sister is keeping the kids, we are going to Cincy (2 hrs South), and have a hotel for a whole night. You'd think I'd be jumping for joy, correct? I wish I was, but I despise gatherings like this. Matt's company Christmas party. Just the thought makes me want to scream and run around in circles. I'm good in groups where I know 2 or 3 people, but in a group where I don't know anyone but Matt, and he knows everyone? Yikes. I'm going to be introduced to 40 or so people tonight and not remember more than 3 of their names. Sounds fun, yes? Blah. Plus I have to dress up. This also makes me want to scream and run around in circles. I won't be able to do that though, because I'll have shoes on that are so uncomfortable they make my feet beg me to remove them. But they're so pretty!!

kick ass cookies and a game of tag...

i must pat myself on the back. I finished teacher gifts today. Divine mint chocolate covered pretzels. Then because I have to take cookies to Hannah's class tomorrow and because I love them, I made oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. Only I don't really have a good recipe for them because I have two people who make them for me because they know I love them SO VERY MUCH. I wanted to find a good one so I shopped food network's website and came across one that looked good. It's not good, it is kick ass good! They are yummy beyond all reason.

Then I got tagged by Janet, so tag I'm it...here's a game of ABC tag...

A - Available or single: None of the above. Married for 11 1/2 yrs.
B - Best friend: I'm so lucky! I have 2! Kelley & Carol
C- Cake or pie: Cake...I love cake... and pie...wonder why my ass is so big??
D - Drink of choice: Chocolate martinis or Diet Mt Dew if I'm not being an alcoholic
E - Essential item you use everyday: My coffee pot
F - Favorite color: Periwinkle
G- Gummy bears or worms: GAGGING. I hate gummy anything.
H- Hometown: Columbus, Ohio
I - Indulgence: Cheryl's Cookies
J - January or February: January - 'cause it's my birthday month!
K - Kids & names: Justin (6), Hannah (5), Ryan (2)
L - Life is incomplete without? laughter
M - Marriage date: June 24, 1995
N - Number of siblings: 3
O - Oranges or apples: apples. oranges are too much damn work.
P - Phobias or fears: Sharks & being locked in a small enclosed space
Q - Fave quote: I could be the walrus, I'd still have to bum rides. (Ferris Bueller)
R - Reason to smile: Ryan singing 'Jingle Bells'
S - Season: Fall
T - Tag 3 or 4 people: Jenn P, Carol, Elle
U - Unknown fact about me: I can do the splits 3 ways.
V- Vegetable you don't like: Cooked spinach
W - Worst habit: excessive bitching
X - Xrays: ?? probably 10-ish??
Y - Your fave food: Mexican
Z - Zodiac sign: Capricorn (that's me- the goat!)

gone but never forgotten...

the world lost a really cool lady this week. I was lucky to call her my grandma. She had a rough couple of months at the end, but the majority of her life rocked. She was a nurse. Not just any nurse, a nurse who went into the army during World War II. She went all over Europe. She had fabulous stories about going on rides in stolen jeeps, hoping on airplanes for quickie trips to Casablanca, having people take pictures of her that would turn her parents hair grey. She was fun like that. She also had stories about following the soldiers in to liberate concentration camps. Every time I sat down with her she told me a story. Lots of times you would get the same story over and over. Like when she was so mad at my dad she jerked him into the house so fast she doesn't remember opening the screen door. She thinks she pulled him smack through it. Or the one she always told my sister about the cool bar she was at in Boston (my sister goes to Boston University) that rotated around in a circle once an hour. Only they didn't know it rotated so they thought they were a little punch drunk :) This happened the night before she shipped out for Europe. Most of the cool stories she told were about things that happened in her 20s. You could only wish to live as full of a life by the time you were in your mid- 20s.
Once she came home from the war, she started a family and continued nursing. She was a nurse at Children's Hospital for 30+ years. She worked some of the floors that most nurses say it takes a special kind of person to work. She was a special kind of person. When I had my tonsils out, I don't remember much more than vomiting for 4 days straight and her bringing me Garfield comic books to cheer me up. She made sure my nurses knew she was my grandma so that I got VIP status. But mostly it was the Garfield books. We both loved him.
I spent what was her last day at the hospital for 8 hours. I sat with her and if she woke up, I rubbed her arm or stroked her hair until she fell back to sleep. She wasn't aware enough to even know I was there, but I talked to her anyways. Sort of a little closure for me I guess. I didn't know it was her last day, but I knew it was coming.
Today was her funeral. She got a full military honor, 21 guns and all. She'd have loved that. It would have been even more exciting to her because one of the soldiers who folded up her flag was a woman. She was buried in her sweats because it's what she would've wanted. She'd have said she didn't want to wear panty hose through the pearly gates. We also made sure that on her feet, she was sporting her new pair of crocs. She is showing them to everyone in heaven right this minute I'm sure. She had to have them when she saw that all the nurses were wearing them. Everyone knows that nurses have the most comfortable shoes. It was one of the things she kept asking for in the hospital when she was all but delirious. She wanted those shoes!
I'm sad that she is gone. Sad that my kids aren't old enough to remember her stories and that they'll have to hear them second-hand from all of us. I cried when they played 'Taps' for her, but wanted to smile through my tears because if she'd been able, she'd have asked them to play 'boogie-woogie bugle boy' instead. That's just the kind of girl she was.
We're really going to miss her.

door is in...

the door is installed. I can't say much more about the wicked ordeal except that it's backwards and that is a bigger deal than you might think, and I hope that the prick who sold us this house is wallowing in nightmares in his new house. I truly believe he knew this door was going to be a major ordeal and that he bought the wrong thing and that it was going to cost a fortune in time and money to install. I don't care if the neighbors say he's the nicest guy on the planet and would never have left us the bad door if he had known. BULLSHIT. If he knew it wasn't going to be a total pain in the ass, why didn't HE install it? Why would he let his family sit in the lovely room with the drafty door last winter? Did they like having snow inside and out? I'm guessing not. I'm guessing he knew all of the above things and lied his ever-loving ass off to us to get us to accept the broken door when we bought the house. Lesson learned in the Mohler family. Once again it was a lesson learned with a brick to the head like most of our lessons are.
***siiiiigh*** at least the wind and snow are outside, not inside. I can be positive, right???
I do soooo hope that our friends who sold us this house are not planning to attend the annual street wide Christmas party next weekend. I'm not sure I'll be able to be pleasant.

grumbling...AGAIN...

so of course the door didn't get done yesterday. Why would it just because they said it would? It was too windy. Really??!!?? I hadn't noticed since the wind comes RIGHT INTO my jacked up sliding door. It was like 5 degrees (slight exaggeration, but only slight) in that room yesterday. The guy fixing our door said he'd come out today because it looks like it's supposed to be warmer. It is supposed to be a full 5 degrees warmer today. Less windy, so I will give him that.
If it doesn't get done today I will be going all-out-crazed-postal. Which may work out to my benefit since I have been asking my husband to pick up stamps for 2 days so I can mail these cards. He has yet to do it.

Edited later to add: Door guy called an hour ago and said they'd be here in a 1/2 hour. I am waiting as patiently as I can. Hopefully this means he is actually coming. Which doesn't necessarily mean it will get done, but I gotta look on the bright-ish side. AND darling Matt went and got stamps this morning before work. Because he is tired of listening to me bitch.

bah humbug...

i am crabby today. Not sure why, I just am. I'm trying to put my finger on the crab-factor and figure out why I am feeling it today. I think it's because the guys are supposed to be coming to fix the sliding glass door this afternoon. I am afraid to hope that they will actually show up and said door will actually be fixed today. I stood at the door today watching the dogs play in the snow and the draft coming in is obnoxious. You can't sit in that room- our family room where we do most of our sitting FYI- and be comfortable if it is the least bit cold or windy. It was supposed to be fixed in August and now it's December. Needless to say, I think the crank that is hanging over me today comes from the fear that they will not show up and it will once again not get fixed.
I think that's it. That's why I am a little crabby today.

ouchie...my hand...

the Christmas cards arrived today in the mail. Rather than put off that Christmas project like all (and I do mean ALL) of my Christmas to-dos I went ahead and addressed them. 2.5 hours later they are all addressed and my hand is permanently cramped into a pen gripping form. Within the next few days, 50+ of my friends and family will be rolling their eyes at yet another happy, smiling picture of my chiclets. I used to personalize each card with a cute and happy message. Then I got pregnant with my third child and got a clue. I do not have time for zippy messages. I barely have time to get cards in the mail. So be happy with the pre-printed heartfelt message :) It's the best I got!
Today for your entertainment I offer the picture rejects from our card picture taking session. I've said it before and will say it again. Trying to get 3 children to look in the same general direction and smile without looking like a troop of complete dorkuses (or is the plural dorkusi??) is much like trying to herd cats.

...You can almost hear Ryan saying 'CHEESE!' in this one

...Here we lose Ryan's focus

...No Hannah look at mommy!

...Less tooth Hannah. Justin, don't strangle your brother. Ryan, SIT UP!!!

in the land of make believe...

that's where I currently reside. In this land there are no deadlines or toilets to clean. You want to live there with me, don't you?
I cannot wrap my brain around the fact that Christmas is in like, 5 minutes. I know I have a little more time than that, but barely. I have an obscene amount of shopping to do and a limited budget to do it with. In the land of make believe I don't need money. Just my winning personality and toothy (metal covered) grin. I wish I could stay in make believe a while longer, but eventually I am going to have to step away from the bottle of Bailey's and come to reality once again.
**sigh**

as promised...

All twinkle-y and everything! Although now that Carol pointed out how wrong it is not to have a shiny star at the top...sigh. I have always loved my bow so maybe it's my imagination but is the top lacking??? Is it not twinkle-y enough?
I absolutely love having all of my Chrismas up and lit. Having the fireplace this year is a bonus. I had the fire going last night and it was awesome. There is just something peaceful about it all. Were it not for the drafty sliding glass door I would've stayed there all night! However now that it is frigid, the sliding glass door that doesn't work is a nuisance. A nuisance that will be remedied as of Thurs this week if all the stars align. I don't want to count my chickens yet because this is the 3rd time now I have thought it would certainly be fixed. I am hoping for the proverbial Christmas miracle. Maybe THIS time it will be fixable. So I can sit in my living room without a down quilt covering me. That would be ever so nice!

100% squirrel free...

the deed is done. We hiked into the wilderness (okay, not really. We drove to the farm and then were bussed into the woods) and picked us out a fine and dandy tree. Matt cut it down while I corraled the kids so we didn't lose them in the trees, and then we hauled it back and sipped cocoa while they bailed it. It was a perfect experience. It was extra fun being one of the families driving down the road with a tree strapped to the roof of the van. We got into in the house, stood it up and it is perfect floor to ceiling. If it had been a 1/2 inch taller, it would been too big.
It is all sparkly and decorated as of today. I promise a picture of the finished product tomorrow. It'll be a way prettier night time shot, and I'm a geek that way.

*Clark a.k.a Matt gives my tree choice a once over

it's december! it's december!!

Did you know?? Did ya??? The chiclets get a huge kick out of the advent calendar. We get to do a pocket today!!! YIPPEE!! They fist fight over who gets to do the first pocket (Justin won since he's the oldest) (and because he lets the dogs out for me once a day and that is-apparently- torture)
I sewed like a mad-woman to get that calendar finished in time for Christmas a couple of years ago, so it does my heart good to see them love it so. It also does my heart good when people see it for the first time and gush over it and ask me where I bought it. And then stare in shock and disbelief because ***gasp*** you made that?? I can be crafty! I think this year I might get some little chocolates for each pocket so that when they put the item for that day in, they can also take a tasty treat out. Plus...hello?? Chocolate? In the morning? I am bound to score good mama points with the chiclets for that! I wish I had thought of it before today. I suppose they'll forgive me for starting a day late!
Happy December to all :)

i'm ever so puzzled....

why do boys/men have such an issue with aim? And to clarify further why does the issue with aim seem to only affect them around toilets? Like, for instance, my husband, (who will probably want to kill me for this, but it's OK honey it affects ALL men, not just you!) he can aim a golf ball at a hole that is yards and yards and yards away. He can get pretty damn near that hole and usually on the first try. I've heard tales of a time or two when he has gotten it the first time. And yet...with penis in hand, the art of aim eludes him. I just. don't. get. it. My young and sweet son is much the same. As are most men in the world. I've been into men's rooms before- out of pure necessity and maybe a little morbid curiosity, not for some hanky panky. And WHO would go into a men's room for hanky panky anyways? Just, ICK! After venturing into a men's room I found an interesting thing out. Did you know that at stadiums and large facilities of the like, they have a trough-like contraption for the men to pee in? AND THEY USE IT. Can you imagine the horror if they tried this in the women's room? The line could be a mile long and I still would wait for a stall. I don't think there is any amount of desperation that would even make me think about trough use.
I think the trough was invented because it is easier to aim into. That's my guess. Because apparently the standard toilet is too damn small.
Toilet-cleaning Thursday was obviously no fun this week. No fun at all. Just, ICK.

the great tree debate...

real or fake? Feel free to weigh in on this issue. Most people lean very much one way or the other. There are few folks in the world who would answer "ehhh...whatever works" to the tree question.
I grew up in a live tree home. Love the smell, the hunt, the trying to make it stand straight. Hate the mess. The very first year Matt and I were together (living in sin? yes we were thankyouverymuch) we trudged off to get our tree. We got a nice one, spent an obscene amount of time cussing at it because it was crooked, finally got it 'straight enough', decorated it, went to bed. At about 2 a.m. we heard a large crash. Of course it was the tree. I threw that bitch out the window (not really- I think I took it to the dumpster) and we promptly bought a fake tree. And shock of all shocks, my live tree loving self found that I could also love a fake tree. And love it we did, for 11 yrs. It died last year. We have done a little looking this year for a new, pre-lit model. When out of the mist comes Justin's little voice... "maybe could we get a real tree? From the woods? With a trunk instead of a pole?" He had me at 'maybe'. I have been coaxing Matt all week now. I think I wore him down today. A co-worker shared a tid-bit about a tree farm about 20 min from here that promises old-fashioned family fun. Hiking into the woods and cutting it down, then tagging it and hauling it in. They also promise a lodge and hot cocoa. The Clark W. Griswold in Matt was intensely interested. So I do believe that come this Saturday late afternoon that Family Mohler will be hiking into the woods with cocoa in hand for our very first real tree with a real trunk instead of a pole. Wish us luck. If a squirrel comes flying out of it once we get it home, you'll all be the first to know.

for lack of a better post...

not that I am lacking in material to write about today. It just isn't post-able material. God help me if I actually wrote what is in my head and a certain family member reads someday. Or God help them. Enough already, right?? Sooooo...instead of a 'real post' today you can get to know the inner holiday of Amy.

Enjoy!!

Welcome to the 2006 Holiday Edition of Getting to Know Your Friends!

1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate? Hot chocolate (with Bailey's)

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree? Wraps them, but sometimes I wish he didn't!

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white? White

4. Do you hang mistletoe? Yep.

5. When do you put your decorations up? The weekend after Thanksgiving most of the decor goes up and the tree follows sometime later.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)? Those casserole potato thingys with cheese and sour cream and bacon.

7. Favorite Holiday memory as a child: Giving my mom the present I picked out especially for her at the Secret Santa shop at school. It was always something horrible that she pretended to love. Too bad it isn't PC to do Secret Santa shops at schools anymore!

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa? I think I was 16 or 17 . OK...maybe not that old but I was one of the last Santa hold-outs. Someone at school ruined it for me

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? No, but I usually give the chiclets new jammies- does that count?

10. How do you decorate your Christmas Tree? White lights, tons of ornaments- most of them gaudy, red bows, and a big bow on top with ribbon streaming down. It's all very tacky-chic :)

11. Snow! Love it or Dread it? Hate, hate, hate it. Snow is only good on Christmas and maybe one other good sledding day. Then I am DONE WITH IT.

12. Can you ice skate? Not well. I wish I could though!

13. Do you remember your favorite gift? The doll house my grandpa made me.

14. What's the most important thing about the Holidays for you? Being with my family

15. What is your favorite Holiday Dessert? I wish I only had one! Probably grandma's oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition? Seeing my sister's face at 4 am. She's almost 21 but she'll never grow up :)

17. What tops your tree? A big ol' bow

18. Which do you prefer giving or Receiving? Giving

19. What is your favorite Christmas Song? Brenda Lee "Rockin around the Christmas Tree" It makes me dance like Will Ferrell in 'Night At The Roxbury' everytime I hear it!

20. Candy Canes! Yuck or Yum? YUM!!! I steal one a day from the Christmas tree!

21. Favorite Christmas movie? Depends on my mood...my favorite funny one is 'Christmas Vacation'. My favorite traditional ones are 'Charlie Brown's Christmas' and 'It's a Wonderful Life'

22. What do you leave for Santa? Cookies, milk and carrots for the reindeer.

Matt channels Clark W. Griswold...

So...we put our lights up this weekend. It was an experience. Not fun in the least. Not festive. A lot like Clark Griswold in the Christmas Vacation movies. That same maniacal laughter when you've almost got it and the strand falls again. For the third time. It was at that point that I said (as sweetly as I could because I didn't want to get punched) "ummm honey...maybe we could just leave the bottom row and not have a top row? This is a little more work than I thought it would be." He growled (not an exaggeration) back at me "I'm not quitting now." Okie dokie. I'll just go in the house and mind my own beeswax. He did get it accomplished. With the help of a kind neighbor and his unbeliveably tall extension ladder. He got 'r done alright.
And it looks bee-u-ti-ful. If I do say so myself! Now if we could figure out how to put the screens back in the windows, all would be good again. We, being morons about such things, can't figure it out. I'm guessing there is an easier way to remove them and re-install them. Other than bending them in 1/2 and pushing with all your strength until they pop out. I'm thinking that isn't the way. Now we can't get them back in. Matt tried last night until one of them was nearly broken. I finally had to remove it from his hands until our brains weren't fried from holiday lighting fiascos. Otherwise I'd be buying replacement screens today.
Nope, today will be spent on decorating the inside -minus the tree- and getting the wreaths up. Then we will be completely Christmas-fied.

trade offs...

When the kids are all home sick I got the luxury of not having to rush like a crazy mama to get everyone off to their prospective schools. We can hang out in our jammies and watch cartoons and get to the other stuff whenever we get to it. The flip side of that coin, is cabin fever among the natives. I thought I was going to climb the walls yesterday. Of course everyone is feeling better now. They have been on their antibiotics and they feel like brand new chiclets. This means that they want to run and play and be free. For me that means screaming at them to stop running around the circle. They love to run around through the kitchen, dining room, and living room where there is no silly wall to stop them in their game. They chase each other around and around and scream and laugh. It is the ultimate fun. I am the ultimate fun-killer. Someone always slips on the wood floor, or their screaming makes me want to lose it. The rule is: no running. They break it. A lot. Yesterday it was more than a lot. I wanted to take them to school in the middle of the day and leave them there just to get them out of my hair for a bit. I have been with them now caged inside the walls of our house for going on 5 days. My only escape was a trip to the Dr's office and then to Target to fill prescription. Now school is out for the rest of the week for the holiday so I must find some form of escape today. God help the family member whose quiet home we choose to invade.
Happy Thanksgiving to all.........

land of the icks....

I think just last week I was going on about how my kids are hardly ever sick. I am such a pin-head. Who does that? Who brags about being disease free? Someone who wants to run 4 loads of bed sheets in one day, that's who. We spent a good part of the weekend cleaning up vomit. We meaning mostly me. Matt on the other hand had an el-primo ticket to the OSU-Michigan game. Being the good-natured and loving person I am, I grudgingly allowed him to go. While I washed the bedsheets and toasted bread and made soup. What I thought was the flu, is actually strep. I took Justin in this morning because he was complaining about his throat. Strep, indeed. Then I took Ryan in because he was among the pukers this weekend. His strep was negative but he has a raging ear infection and a throat that looks "suspicious". Not sure if that means his throat is about to commit a heinous crime or what, but we are to keep an eye on it. We meaning me, of course. So if I am absent the next few days I am preparing for turkey day and keeping a watchful eye on that suspicious looking throat of Ryan's. Leave it to him to have a suspicious anything.

EDITED TO ADD: Matt did clean up a little vomit this weekend. I am not going to listen to him howl at me for making people think he skipped out of the house while I scrubbed the mess. He was in on a little of it. Very little, but he was present.

I think I have become my mother....

poor Hannah.
You see when I was a child, my mama was a beautician. This, for me, meant that I was probably the only 4 year old with highlights and a perm. She had to practice on someone! She also could wield a brush like a lethal weapon. Because of this I have one of those heads of hair that can be pulled in 12 different directions and I can sleep through it. Dance team moms loved me. I was the only girl who didn't whine about those too-tight french braids.
Fast forward to today. Hannah has been wearing the same headband day in, day out for about 2 weeks. She loves it, so she wears it. I'm kind of sick of looking at it, so I think if I offer to do something fun and snazzy with her hair she will put away the hair band at least for a few hours. No. Not the case. She screamed and cried and it became a battle of wills that for some reason I wasn't giving up. When it was over she sobbed that her head hurt so bad....it was as if she was dying. The ponytail holder might make her brains ooze slowly out of her ears. Something of that nature. Now seriously, it was not tight. But apparently what the princess wants, the princess gets. I was seeing red so I jerked the ponytail holder out in "I'll give you something to cry about" fashion. My sister chose this time to place a phone call to me. After telling her my side of the story I realized immediately that I had become my mother. ***ACK*** I cannot tell you how many times as a small child I would think in my little head "I will never pull my daughter's hair like she pulls mine". In the end it was to my benefit since I now have hair follicles of steel. I didn't know that when I was Hannah's age. Maybe she'll thank me later??? I doubt it. She'll probably just share the horror stories with her friends. My sister reminded me of her childhood hair trauma with mom. She begged and pleaded for weeks to have bangs cut into her hair. She has naturally curly (it's beautiful. I hate her for it) hair and bangs will only look like pubes. My mom told her over and over again it was a bad idea, but Manda was unrelenting. Finally my mom decided to shut her up and cut some bangs for her. Only it must have been a PMS day for mom and Manda chose the wrong time to do battle with her. Mom cut those babies to about 1" in length. They were LOVELY. My sister has never had bangs since that day. We had a good chuckle about it today while we were reminiscing our childhood hair traumas. I know Hannah will have fun talking about 'the bad ol' days' with her friends someday too.

the awwww...so sweet factor....

so, my husband...he has his ordinary husband moments. You know- the ones that make me want to box his ears, or smack him repeatedly upside his head. He has a penis, so this is normal. He can't help it, it's just the way they are. Then he has other moments. The ones where I realize how lucky I am that his friend talked me into going out on at least one date with him. I wasn't in the mood to start with a new guy right at that moment, but I got talked into it. I'm lucky. Damn lucky that I decided to go out on that one date.
I realize it frequently, but especially on mornings like this one. He thanked me. I still am not 100% sure why he thanked me, but he did. This after he had the kids alone from last Thurs-Mon. with no complaining. That's right- no complaining. He sounded cranky at one point around day 3 on the phone but if I had been left for that long while he was say, golfing with a friend, I would have been more than cranky by day 3. I would have been an evil bitch. He just got a little cranky. And then last night when we both just wanted a quiet-ish evening, I was called off to help my mom with dogs because grandma had to go to the hospital again. Matt took Ryan with him to Justin's scout meeting so that I could get all of the dog stuff done and not have to worry about Ryan flushing a stuffed turkey down a toilet at my parent's house while I was off being otherwise occupied by feeding a dog. That may seem like a little thing, but Ryan really adds a note of quirkiness to any event he attends. He can make it hellish in no time flat. Then, my loving husband didn't whine when I realized I had left my keys in the van so he had to drive all the way back over to my parent's house to give them to me. AND HE DIDN'T BITCH, COMPLAIN, OR MOAN ONE TIME.
This is the same man who will help with the dogs anytime he is needed. Again this may seem like no big deal, but it involves scooping lots of dog shit and dealing with nastiness that the average husband would say "hell no" to. Not Matt, he does it. With minimal whining.
Also this man didn't slug me over the head even once last night when I couldn't sleep. He tried to make the dripping in the bathroom stop around 1 a.m. when I decided that might be what it was that was making me want to climb the walls. He didn't even do one of those exaggerated sighs. He just got up and got the shower to stop dripping. He really is a good guy.
On top of all of this, it is a major understatement to say that I am not an easy chic to live with. I bitch, moan, and complain on a regular basis. I have a vagina, so this is normal. I can't help it, it's just the way we are. :) Not to say he probably doesn't want to box me in the ears sometimes too. I'm sure he does. But he never has.
Instead, on days like today, he thanks me. Just for being me. Awwwww... he's so sweet!

you can't ever have too much fun...

not with Carol anyways. I have never been a birthday present before, but I was this past weekend. It was fun being a present. Although I'm thinking I shouldn't have had to make any decisions on how the weekend was going to play out. Shouldn't Carol have been the one to decide how and what she wanted her birthday present to do all weekend??? Damn. She made me make decisions all weekend!! :)
Let's see... we shopped, and ate, shopped some more, had a few cocktails, ate again, shopped some more... do you see a pattern? South Carolina has some damn fine shopping of the bargain variety. And Carol is the champion bargain hunter. Just ask her about her $11 mirror and the .37 cent serving bowl set she scored. Bitch. She is fun to shop with though.
I'm pretty sure she was happy about her surprise birthday present. She had a few moments of panic over a dirty toilet and some hairy sheets on my bed, but we remedied that before she had a stroke. Then I spent the rest of the weekend off-setting her placemats because it makes her twitch when they aren't all lined up and that makes me laugh. Aren't I just the best friend ever? I think she had fun even though I was trying make her insane and making fun of her for having OCD. Because seriously, the girl lined up the sleeve on her Starbucks cups so that the picture on the sleeve matched the picture on the cup. How can I not make fun of that?? She is more than welcome to make fun of my collection of dry erase boards when she comes up here to be my birthday present in a few months (**HINT MATT. HINT, HINT**)
End of weekend note to self...never make a Rachel Ray cocktail again. The girl has some good recipes, but pumpkin martinis ain't one of them. Other than that fiasco, all of our other cocktails were divine. Although just the thought of those pumpkin nightmares sort of makes me twitch. Did I mention how nasty they were?

it can only get better...

this morning I went over to my parent's house because my mom needed help with the dogs. She had an early morning appt. and couldn't get them all done. I let the Pointer pups out for their breakfast and potty time and as I was cleaning out their pen, I stuck my hand in a pile of dog shit that one of them had artfully hidden under a piece of newspaper. Really, it's a good thing they are cute puppies because otherwise I might just set them free near the freeway someday.
The day can only get better now, right?

do you know one??

Raise your hand if you know an adult that acts like a spoiled teenager... everyone does?? Of course you do! They are everywhere! I have to shake my head at adults that can't step away from High School. Grow up already. The day I graduated from HS, I turned away from all of that nonsense. I don't understand the point in re-living it for years and years. The cat fights in the hallways, who was on homecoming court, who made the cheerleading squad, who didn't...none of the crap matters in 'the real world' so why hang on to it?
I have a neighbor who is a total bizarro. Her daughter is a total brat and does cruel things to other kids. 2 other parents on the street have confronted her and she literally goes off like a bomb. Screaming obscenities in the street. Instead of saying anything to her daughter about being nasty to other kids or even asking her what happened like a sane person, she starts screaming about things that have nothing to do with anything. What is that teaching her daughter?? I can tell you one thing for sure. Her daughter is likely going to grow up to be one of those bitches everyone hates in HS and no one will talk to at the class reunion. That's what her mama is modeling for her. She is in 3rd grade and she is already a bitch. I hate to say that about a child, but some of the things I have seen her do with my own eyes would take your breath away.
I can't even count the number of people I have known in my adult life that leave me shaking my head in wonder at them. Concerned more about the brand of clothes their toddlers are wearing than anything else in the world. I guess that lesson never got to them in High School. I just assumed everyone learned eventually that whether you are wearing Tommy Hilfiger or Circo you can be a good person. Silly me.
I met another person this past weekend who is still flipped out over the fact that she wasn't on homecoming court. Seriously. She is going on 40 years old and still is angry at the world because she wasn't on homecoming court. She still has a grudge against people who were on court, and now their children as well. Did I say psycho already?? I wonder if she thinks the girls who did get on court still wear their sashes to work everyday? Really. WHO CARES?? No one even remembers that crap 10 years, 15 years, 20 years later. Let it go....
As I was listening to one of the neighbors talk about the latest neighborhood fight involving the 1st mom I talked about, all I could do was shake my head. My kids aren't involved in it and the crazy mom hasn't even stooped from her high horse to introduce herself to me yet, so I am hoping to never be involved in the crazy plot she lives in. Their house is for sale and all I can say is good riddance. Hopefully a sane family will buy it and move in and we can have less High School drama on the street.

i don't want to be THAT MOM...

I spent a long day on Saturday at a dance competition. If my husband was worried about me wanting to hop back into coaching and teaching dance, he need not worry a moment longer. Just a taste of the psycho moms at the competition on Sat. was all the reminder I needed for the reasons I quit doing it in the first place. One mother has a daughter who is in FOURTH GRADE. She spent the entire day hounding her about a back walkover. The poor girl was not comfortable doing it, but mom wanted it in the routine. Did I mention this mere child is in FOURTH GRADE?? I want to pull this woman aside and tell her that psycho bitches like her are the ones who have daughters who walk out on the floor to compete and freeze because of stress. Who wants to stress out their kid that much?? She was almost in tears over it. She has YEARS to perfect and perform a back walkover for the judges. These are also the kids that are oooozing talent and walk away from it when they are at the top of their game because they have had it with their parent's constant pushing. I've seen it everywhere- at soccer, football, pretty much anything sports oriented. I just know for myself, I have never coached a team that didn't have at least one of those moms. I don't have the patience to deal with them anymore. Nor do I have the ability to bite my tongue long term and not tell them they are being freakish. I would not make a good dance coach anymore :)
The beauty of it is, I will never be that mom. I have seen too much of what it does to the kids when their parents aren't standing there. When they come to me hysterical because they just can't take it anymore. I never want that for my kids. They will do what they want to do. I may do some gentle prodding, but that's it. Everyone thinks I'll flip out if Hannah doesn't dance. Nope. If she decides in a few years that she isn't having fun, then she's done. That's what it's all about to me. If she has fun with it for years like I did, then I am happy. If she wants to play soccer for the rest of her life, I'm happy too. Psycho mom, I ain't.

just say no...

I can't do it. I can't say no. People ask me to help with things and I immediately blurt out "sure! I have nothing going on that day!" Why??? Why do I do that to myself? Now I have a calendar that is so full for the next 2 months that I literally have ZERO free weekends. Some of my weekend activities are fun, some are not, either way it will be 2007 before I have a weekend with no plans. No exaggeration. In 2007 I think I have a free weekend. It probably won't happen though because someone will ask a favor of me and I'll quickly answer that I have nothing else going on that weekend before I can stop myself.
What can I say? I am one of those 'people pleasers'. Much as I hate it sometimes, it's what I am. It's good and bad. Most of my friends and family appreciate it about me. My husband probably hates it. He would give anything for a plan free weekend. Good thing he is patient. He is usually the last in line of people that I please. Poor guy. Plus his mom only let him eat 2 friggin' pieces of candy at Halloween when he was a kid. He has been underprivileged his whole life!! I did try to make up for that by sending him to work with a basket of all the good stuff. Damn if he isn't a people pleaser too. He gave it all away.

soggy Halloween...

I wish I had some cute pictures to share of my darling trick or treaters today. I don't because last night would be the all-time suckiest trick or treat night in my memory. It was 40ish degrees and raining. WOOHOO. Lovely weather. Now, the day before, it was 60 and beautiful but who am I to question Mother Nature and her fall insanity plan?
The kids still had fun and I guess that's what it's all about, right? I don't enjoy bundling up and walking door to door looking like a drowned rat, but the children were unfazed by this. Unfortunately, it wasn't good picture taking weather. I tried to snap a couple indoors but we had trick or treaters ringing the doorbell 15 min. early (talk about ignorant) so they couldn't focus on me or my camera they just wanted out the door to go beg for their own bucket o' candy.
This is the best shot I got....















Isn't that a lovely shot of the chiclets? Oh yes...straight into the scrapbook with that one. Last year I made a whole photoshow of how cute they were. This year I got one lame picture. What's a scrapper to do with that?? Oh well. We have more candy than we could eat in a lifetime and they were bouncing off the walls until 10 p.m. I nixed Matt's idea of a 2 piece of candy limit. I went with the plan my mom always used...eat candy till you feel sick. I think the kids liked my plan better. 2 pieces indeed!! Whoever heard of such a thing? I was making fun of him in front of his mom for this ridiculous plan and then found out it was actually HER plan and that's what Matt had as a rule when he was a child. Don't you feel sorry for him now?? I do.
At the end of the evening we dried off and drove over to my parent's house so they could see them in their costumes and instead of candy I got a tumbler of Bailey's with caramel on the rocks. Who needs candy? I was feeling much better about my soggy Halloween after that.

just because it made me laugh...

not whining. won't do it.

I promise not mention how bad my teeth STILL hurt today. I won't mention the fact that I can barely be understood because I can't open my mouth all the way to speak. My family is enjoying it immensely. I will mention that I got a good chuckle at my ownself this morning. I woke up and couldn't believe how much better my mouth felt. Just as I was marveling over how quickly the pain ended it occurred to me that in my drunken stupor last night I forgot to put the damn rubber bands back in after I ate dinner. DUH. No wonder I felt better. Then I trudged into the bathroom to reinstall the torture devices (rubber bands) and almost cried at the pain flooding back. I think even Matt felt bad for me. This was a good sign in our marriage because I think he was ready to kill me last night. I wasn't kidding when I said I needed a big bottle of vodka with which to drown myself. I really did dive in with both feet. I think I irritated him with my alcoholism last night. I guess if he felt bad for me this morning that must mean he likes me again.
But I won't mention the pain in my mouth. Promise I won't.

whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiining...

My teeth hurt. Bad. I am currently waiting for my knight and shining armor (Matt) to arrive with my liquid pain killer (vodka- in the vanilla variety) so that I can drown myself in it. Hoping the bottle is that big. Must drown myself in it.
I thought once I got over the initial pain and whiny-ness of getting these bitches (ooops, braces) put on my teeth, I would never again feel that kind of pain in my mouth. The kind that makes you want to just jerk the *#$&ers smack out of your mouth. The kind that makes even my inner pig not want to look at food, let alone be forced to chew it. Sadly, I am again experiencing the pain thanks to my friends the rubber bands. I have them going in 4 directions currently in my mouth and I want to shout at my short, pudgy orthodontist and tell him what a rat bastard he is for putting people in this pain. I know it isn't his fault. It's actually mine. I brought this on. It doesn't matter. He is still a rat bastard (he really isn't. He's really a nice guy. He can't help this). I might feel differently in a day or so when it stops. Please tell me this will stop in a day or two. Probably until they put thicker rubber bands in a different location, going in a different direction. Then it'll all start again. Curse this bad bite of mine!!!!
I found out today that my blood pressure meds prevent me from taking ibuprofen. I refuse to ask if I should be limiting my alcohol intake. I'm sure I don't want to know the answer and quite honestly tonight, I just DO NOT care one iota. I'm havin' the liquid pain killers in vanilla form. Several of them. Do not call my house tonight and expect anything more than slurred speech. The fault of both the vodka and the rubber bands.

grey skies...

We are supposed to have "November grey skies" all day today. It was cold yesterday but the sky was blue and the clouds were puffy. It was a crispy fall day- my favorite. Today we are November grey. Blah. Except they were wrong at the ol' NBC weather station today. They said we wouldn't see the sun at all. Nary a bit, all the live long day (my words- not his. He isn't a total hillbilly. I am). And yet I saw it. Just as we were headed toward the bus. It came up over the field behind us and peeked through the November grey. Just long enough to hit the tress on the opposite side of the field and light up the oranges, yellows, and reds on the leaves. It was bright, fantastic, beautiful. I made a mental note to run home and grab my camera and take a picture of it as soon as I could dump Justin out of the van. Sadly, when I got home, it was November grey again. None of the fiery, bright colors were still illuminated by the sun. They are still pretty, but it isn't even close to the same.
Still...for a moment today, I saw the sun. They said I wouldn't, but I did. I think that means it's going to be a good day.

Avoidance is my friend...

I am avoiding several things today. Cleaning being the biggest one. My house is a pit. I need to get it clean before Fri when we have a visitor coming. Matt's mom. She hasn't seen the house and it'll be the first visit. I REALLY need to get it clean. Yet, here I sit, avoiding.
I am avoiding getting on the scale because I have been on an ice cream kick this week and it is going to be U-G-L-Y.
I am avoiding figuring out what is on my nerves today. Something is. I am in a mood and I don't know why. I feel a storm brewing in my brain and I have no idea what the deal is. Could be hormones, but I fear I blame 90% of my current pissiness on hormones. I'm starting to think it's not hormones so much as it is just me. Who I am now. What I have grown up to be. I think when I was little I wanted to grow up and be a veterinarian or a teacher. Instead I grew up to be the wicked witch of the west. Who'd have thunk?
I am also avoiding what to make for dinner. Maybe if I avoid this long enough it will turn into pizza night. This is my hope.
I have a long list of avoidances. I won't bore you with it all. This is already an ignorant post. No need to ignorant it up any further.

Oprah strikes again...

That Oprah. She has more money than anyone. Yet she always reminds me what a heel *I* am for not appreciating what I have. Her show yesterday was "moms around the world". Hannah was watching it with me so it was enlightening for us both. Some of the women (like the hot mom from Brazil- and I don't mean temperature hot) had more riches than they could even handle. Nannies, maids, drivers, all the goods. Brazil mommy was spouting how lucky she was to be able to spend time with her children. Yes...because someone else is cleaning your toilets and mopping your floor. Plus she is married to Brazil's version of Brad Pitt. That could go either way on the good-bad scale. I wouldn't want to be married to any form of Brad Pitt- even Brazil's. Thanks Matt.
Then, of course, there were the moms of Africa. That Oprah, she refuses to let us bury our heads in the sand and pretend what is going on in Africa is not. She shows us these horrible things regularly. Things that makes anyone with a soul uncomfortable. What she said that stood out in my head, was that those moms in Darfur, Africa want the same things for their kids that we do. They have the same hopes, dreams, and aspirations. Except they live in a refugee camp and can't sleep at night because someone might invade the camp and rape them or their children. Oh...and they don't know when they'll have their next meal. Or sip of clean water. They are lucky if they get one meal of grain a day. Yet, they hope the same things for their kids that I do.
Yep...Oprah knows how to make me appreciate that I have time to play Candyland. That I even own the board game. She even made me appreciate my crappy water and ignorant clean-nothing dishwasher. Even better than that, my daughter saw this same thing. Last night as we were saying our prayers, she prayed for the mommy that didn't have food for her babies. Yes, Oprah. We got the message.

Earn bad mommy credits for the day...check that off my list.

Help me try to make a 5 year old understand why I am backing out of a field trip to the pumpkin patch. We were supposed to go last week but they cancelled because it was muddy. That's nice of them, but now it's muddy and freezing. It doesn't sound like a fun trip to me. Especially not with Ryan in tow. Of course, I have devastated my daughter. Just earning my bad mommy award points. Yes indeed. It isn't just cold, it's bitter...and did I mention the mud? A 2 hour trip through the pumpkin patch just does NOT fit into my plan for the day. It would be different if it was even partially indoors. It is not. It is 1 hour and 45 min of listening to "the life of a pumpkin seed" and 15 min of picking pumpkins. In the freezing cold, bitter wind, and mud- wait did I already mention that? Blah. I have scarred her for life by telling her we aren't going. I'll pay for the therapy later, I'm sure. Whatever.

Friday funnies...

For your reading pleasure I am going to share 2 conversations I had with Justin last night.

Background on conversation #1- they are talking about seeds in school. They were supposed to bring in seeds to share with the class. We walked back to the Buckeye tree and found a buckeye (which is indeed a seed I just learned) and also a buckeye still in the hull (which is cool and porky in Justin's words) (porky=spiky for those who don't know that already) (DUH). I put them in a baggie and he takes them to school. Fast forward 2 days...riding in the car...

Justin: Mom! Why didn't you name my nuts??

Me: Uhhhh... what?

Justin: {sighing in complete exasperation} My nuts mom! My nuts! Why didn't you name them??

Me: Justin, I can't begin to figure out what you could be talking about.

Justin: My nuts! When I took them to school I couldn't remember what the porky one was called.

Immediately my brain clicks because remember, porky=spiky...

Me: You mean your SEEDS? I think you mean why didn't I label your seeds?

Justin: Yes, mom. Seeds...nuts...whatever.

Me: Big difference, son. And I didn't label your seeds because it was your homework. Name your own nuts next time.


Conversation #2. No background available. I still don't know what the heck he was talking about.

Justin: Mom is a chicken wild?

Me: A chicken? No it's a farm animal so it's not really wild.

Justin: How about a spider? Is it wild?

Me: Umm...sure I guess a spider is wild.

Justin: A worm? Is a worm wild?

Me: Gosh, I guess if a spider is wild, then a worm is too.

Justin: What about an acorn?

Me: Ask your dad.

I'm still figuring that one out. He was cracking me up, though so I thought I'd share :) I'm sure in a day or 2 the lightbulb will click on again and I'll know why he needed to know if an acorn was wild. If any of you know about the wild-ness or lack of wild-ness in acorns, please share. Janet- maybe you could ask Alex. That would be a Bubba-ism, correct?

How do you not love a man in uniform?

Today is Justin's first Tiger Scout meeting. Could he be any cuter? I'm thinking no, but I'm a little biased. He is so excited. I'm hoping he isn't bummed when he figures out he isn't camping out tonight. I've tried to explain that's it's a meeting, not a camping trip, but he is one who needs to actually BE THERE to catch a clue.
Do you know how hard it is to sew those little patches on the shirt? HARD. Even using all of my mad housewifey skills, it took a lot longer than I thought it would. The numbers are still crooked, but I attempted 3 times to get them straight, and then I called it good enough. I'm sure one of the other moms is Martha Stewart and her patches will all be perfectly level. Mine aren't and I'm good with that. I'm wondering why those patches aren't iron-on anyways??? That would've made it loads easier.
Anyways...that's all I've got for today. Cute boy in uniform. You're welcome.

Domestic goddess...yes indeed...

I'm not sure why it is that the term "housewife" makes me cringe. In the technical sense, that's what I am. But when someone calls me a "housewife" I just conjure up images of a frumpy woman in slippers and a robe with those pink spongy curlers in her hair. I may be frumpy sometimes, but I can at least throw on a pair of sweats everyday. And those curlers? Not since I was in elementary school thankyouverymuch. I impressed my grandmother with my homemade pumpkin butter and canning skills this weekend. She said at some point yesterday that I have turned into a good housewife. I *think* this was a compliment, but it was said in a way that made me think that she figured I would amount to nothing, so at least I can mop a floor with the best of them. She also said I should hang on to Matt because I'd never find someone as good as him. I know that to be fact, but again it was said in a way that screamed (to me at least) that I barely deserved him , so I better keep mopping the floor and keep him happy. I know old folks say rude things. They think they have earned the right to say whatever, in front of whoever (or is it whomever?). At least my grandma has. Sometimes it is downright funny. Sometimes it makes you want to crawl in a hole and die. Recently it seems to always happen at a holiday gathering and it makes me want to cry. She always seems to strike a nerve with me and make me feel like all these years she has thought I would end up a loser. I can't help but wonder why. I was always a pretty good kid. I made good grades, I went to college. I didn't finish, but I went on to a respectable career. Bless her heart, she has no idea that what she is saying is hurtful. She was a nurse in the army during WW II and then for many years at Children's Hospital. She can tell stories that make your toes curl. Over and over, we get to hear those stories :) I know that she thinks I done good, but it just seems it's not good enough. Maybe if I had become a nurse...
Anyways, apparently I make a damn fine housewife. Though if you don't mind, I'd prefer to be referred to as the domestic goddess that I am.

Edited later to add: While I was making lunch for the chiclets today (using all my mad housewifey skills to whip up PB & J) it occurred to me that possibly the reason she says I make a good housewife with a note of disdain in her voice is because she would've rather been strung up by her toes, than be a stay at home mom. She loved her work and needed it. I can totally get that. Not everyone wants to do this job- I don't even want to sometimes! That was a lightbulb moment for me.

When I am old...

I hope I am healthy

I hope I am active

I hope my brain still works as well is it does now

I hope my kids will sit with me when I am not well

I hope I don't say mean things about people as though they can't hear me when they most certainly can

I hope I am surrounded by love

I love the 80's....

No really, I do. Nothing made me happier than to hear that some of the 80's styles were coming back. I remember fondly my 80's clothes (most of them). Baggy jeans, 10 button shirts (layers and layers of them), big chunky sweaters, Eastland shoes...I could go on for days...
I just wish the fashion police would check with me before they pick what they are bringing back. I'm scared. No really, I just gave up my last pair of what I'm sure my sister would roll her eyes at and call "mom jeans" for a cool pair of straight leg jeans that were "in" last year I'm sure of it. Now I'm watching the Today show this morning and they got a 'hot styles for less' segment on. What do mine eyes see? Leggings. Hello?? Fashion police?? I'm going to be your latest victim. Ain't no WAY I'm am going to stuff my thighs into leggings EVER AGAIN. I can just see it now. Me, thinking I am all cool in my leggings, walking down the street. All the people behind me wondering if that's cottage cheese on my thighs or if I have just been sitting in gravel. Why didn't they bring baggy jeans back? I still know how to peg them! Does that count for nothing???? Instead they bring back skinny jeans. I cannot wear skinny jeans, for I am not skinny. I can still do kick ass big hair if need be. Maybe that will save me from the fashion police paddy wagon? Doubtful.

The impossible to-do list...

I have this to-do list. It is, oh say, as long as my arm. I have written down all the stuff I want to accomplish today and tomorrow morning. It is completely impossible as it stands right now to get it all done and, like a complete moron, I keep adding stuff to it. A bunch of family is coming over tomorrow afternoon for Hannah's birthday. A few of whom have not seen the house yet. So, I want it spit shined. Totally needless, since most of them will likely not be looking for dust with white gloves on. Yet, I must trudge through the motions of cleaning it up as if they might. We have 2 soccer games tomorrow morning and it is supposed to be frozen tundra here in the a.m hours. Should be a blast! Especially when I'll barely be able to think about anything but my to-do list that is left un-done.
I get a little sick pleasure out of crossing stuff off the list though, so I must make one. So much pleasure that after I cleaned the fish tank this morning (which is, by the way, thriving with our store-bought water) I realized I had forgotten to actually put it on the list. So I wrote it on there, just so I could cross it off. How ignorant is that????
Happy Friday to all. I'm off to do my to-dos

At least you have your legs...

I am the first to admit that I whine. A lot. Too much. Give me a topic and I can find a way to whine about it. Yesterday I was in a "woe is me" state of mind when it occured to me that I have a pretty damn good life. So maybe (and this is a BIG MAYBE- big like my ass if that helps you gain frame of reference) if I focused on the positive instead of the negative, I'd feel a little better. I know. It doesn't take an afternoon of watching Dr. Phil to figure that out. Anyone can tell me the same thing. So why, oh why, do I not do that? Not sure. Maybe because it easy to count up all the bad stuff? Well, brainiac, how hard is it to count up the good stuff? Not so hard. So here I go:

1. a great husband who makes me laugh. He also makes me roll my eyes at his ability to pull ignorant, who gives a shit, facts out of the air at any given moment. Wait..this was supposed to be positive...that one may at first sound bad, but it might serve a purpose someday, for him to be able to tell me that running in a zig-zag pattern will confuse an alligator and give me time to get away from it. See you're rolling your eyes aren't you? OK...most of the time he's funny and he loves me, so he gets the #1 spot. I am not easy to love.

2. 3 healthy & happy kids. They are blessings. They are also total pains in the arse sometimes, but I love them like nobody's bidness. They are now and will forever be my babies.

3. a house. A really cool house. A house that we fit quite comfortably in. A house in a cool neighborhood, with fun people (now that I know them). No matter what, we have a roof over our heads that we all like. For that we are thankful. If it weren't for the stupid sliding glass door... STOP...positive, Amy, positive. OK, so I hate the door, but at least I HAVE a door, right???

4. My family. They are zany. I don't have an "average family" by any stretch of the imagination, but they are all wonderful people. People who would give you the shirt off of their back, even if it was the last shirt in their closet.

5. a bunch a WONDERFUL friends who I can count on for anything. And I do mean ANYTHING at all. I could show up on almost any of their front doorsteps at any given time and be welcomed in with open arms. Maybe it's because they know I tend to come bearing gifts & alcoholic beverages. Whatever the case, I'm pretty sure I have the best group of friends on the planet.

See...that's only 5 things and I think anyone would read that and think I was a lucky girl. And...wow...I am lucky. Intensely lucky. Because I have a ton more good in my life than even those things, but if I typed them all out you'd be rolling your eyes at me, not at Matt. I'd hate for that to happen.
In case I forget how lucky I am, and fall into the whiny-ness again, I am also so lucky to have my mama who will be sure to remind me. I may not have buckets of money to pay my ever-increasing stack of bills, but at least I have my legs. There are people who can't say that. I told you they weren't average people, that family of mine.

Happy Birthday Hannah...

Five is a big milestone birthday for most kids. Hannah is sure she is taller this morning. And her baby teeth will certainly be loose by the end of the day (never mind that Justin is 6 1/2 and still holding on to all of his). Anyways...she had a fun morning! New dollhouse, birthday cake for breakfast... Life is good in Hannah banana-land!

Your bonus smile for today...

Every mother learns the fine lesson about "choosing your battles" at some point when her child is around the age of 2-ish. Some battles are just not worth fighting about. Case in point: Hannah's outfit choices...

Daydreaming...

If I ruled the world…

All children’s pants would be adjustable waist. No exceptions. Really…this can only be a good plan.

Children would never whine. Again, no exceptions on this one.

I would be paid an hourly wage for this job I currently hold.

It would not be minimum wage.

I would have access to a jet and a spa so that my friends and I could go whenever we wanted and get a massage and pedicure.

I would have a beach house within a few minutes of the spa. Gotta be able to show off those new pedicures while sticking our toes in the sand and sipping a cold martini.

½ & ½ would automatically come out of the container and into my coffee, in just the right amount. The perfect amount if you will.

Caffeine would make you lose weight. Lots of it. As would brownies and chocolate chip cookie dough.

Mean people would fall through a trap door in the floor Scooby Doo style every time they acted like assholes. At the bottom of the trap door would be garbage. Weeks of rotted garbage. I’m guessing after a week or so of this plan, there would be a few less assholes in the world.

Stoli Vanilla Vodka would arrive at my home anytime I snapped my fingers. And a hot dude with washboard abs would be there to mix my drinks.

Home appliances would always work properly. Until you wanted a new one- then they would automatically be broken with no hope of repair.

Dogs would only be allowed to fart outside. Never in my bedroom while lying on MY bed. Shasta- this one is about you.

I would have an engineer on call to build the train tracks that my son desires. I admit to not having the brain capacity to do this. It only frustrates me. More so when the track falls apart 5 minutes after I walk out the room. Damn you, Thomas the tank engine!

I would have volumes of easy dinners at my disposal. They would be healthy and tasty. They would, of course, also cook themselves and I would always have the ingredients in my fridge or pantry.

Toy manufacturers would be restricted from placing twist ties of any kind on toy packaging. Any toy manufacturer caught placing even one (let alone the 27-50 they currently use) would be forced to spend the next Christmas day or birthday in the homes of small children everywhere, where they would be forced to get their own toys out of the freakin’ boxes.

Toy manufactures would also be forced to use the same battery rechargers, AC plugs, and remote controls for ALL TOYS. Do they have any clue at all what it is like to keep all of those stupid cords separate??

I would have never ending patience with my kids and husband. I’d never lose my temper or my grip on reality. I wouldn’t have to pretend to be excited about yet another game of Candyland or Chutes & Ladders, because they would actually be enjoyable to me (before you snort a -yeah right- at me, keep in mind the bit above about Vanilla Stoli and the hot guy mixing my drinks)

And there would definitely be world peace. All of the terrorists would be in the Scooby Doo trap doors, along with pedophiles, school shooters, kidnappers, etc. so we would have a peaceful and happy world.

Fun grandma...

My mom very rarely gets the "fun grandma" award from Hannah. They have a love/hate relationship. Grandma Joy usually wins the prize because she spoils Hannah like nobody's business and because she usually shows up to our house with bags of M&Ms and sometimes a twinkie or 2 in her pockets. So, in all rights, she should win the prize. How could anyone else even be in the running when she bribes with chocolate and twinkies?? This weekend my mom was able to take the lead away from Grandma Joy. She had Hannah over for a sleepover and they made haunted gingerbread houses. Hannah hasn't stopped talking about how much fun she had. My mom is probably still recovering because Hannah rarely stops talking, period. She doesn't believe in silence. Ever. She makes your eyes cross sometimes. I'm used to it, but my mom had a large dose of it this weekend and she wasn't used to it. I think she is likely still drinking it off. I'm hoping it was worth it in the end. She has the "fun grandma" prize firmly in her grasp for at least a few days. Even if she had to sport a 2 day headache to earn it :) No pain, no gain right??

A brighter day...

Nice stuff to ponder...

The changing of the leaves behind our house. This was taken as I was sipping my coffee (with perfect cream of course) (and it was REALLY GOOD JEN) in my chair on the back porch. The leaves have just started to change and I'm thinking once they hit their peak it will be beautiful...

And then of course my new mums...which I did indeed stop and smell. In case there are inquiring minds out there who are dying to know how mums smell, they smell..ummmm....unremarkable. They don't have one of the smells that makes you say "ahhhhh that smells great!" They look nice though!

Heavy stuff for a Saturday...

Why do people do bad things to children? All the violence in the schools this week makes me unbelievably sad. I mean really, the Amish?? What did they ever do to you? Nothing. They are peaceful and unobtrusive. And yet a man broke into their school and killed little girls. Killed them with the intent to rape them first. I can't believe I am saying this outloud, but at least he *only* killed them. Those poor girls in the Colorado school shootings were apparently raped first. The last moments of that poor girl's life were hellish. And that's the thought her parents have to live with.
Can I just say right now...this is my worst fear. My biggest nightmare. That someone will take one of my children and harm them in this way. I can't even think it without getting emotional. And really, God forbid this ever happen, the guy who does it better kill himself, because hell hath no fury like a mama. I would need to be locked in a rubber room for the rest of my life. I can't imagine losing a child.
I have been thinking about these horrifying things all week. I'm hoping now that I have written it down that it will leave the recesses of my mind. I think it makes me so insane because there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. You want to believe that you can protect your children from the horrors of this world, but there are things out there that no one can protect them from. You can't keep them in a bubble. No matter how badly you want to. You have to let them ride bikes with their friends and look for bugs under rocks in the woods and just generally be kids. I wonder if our parents worried about predators lurking behind bushes when we were kids? I rode my bike down the street by myself in the dark. My best friend lived about 10 houses down from us and I often left her house after dark and rode home. I could never do that with Justin. Granted, I was in 4th grade at the time and he is in 1st, but in 3 years will I feel differently? I don't think so. We currently live at the back of a court. Justin walks to his friends house that is 4 or 5 houses away just at the edge of the court circle. I watch him out the window until he gets there. I wonder if I will ever not feel like I have to keep an eye on him while he plays outside. Don't even get me started on the Boy Scouts. Justin just joined and I informed Matt he will forever have to go on campouts with him. Sorry, not that I don't trust people, but how many stories have we heard about those 'trusty Boy Scout leaders' taking advantage of little boys. Makes me want to vomit on my keyboard right now. I want to protect my kids as much as I can. Unfortunately I have to send them to school. I can be thankful that there is only 1 unlocked door in the building and it is directly in front of the principal's office. There is a margin of safety, but it's never enough.
OK...go on about your lives. Sorry for the downer.

It's Friday again already...

I have a hard time believing sometimes how fast time goes by. I feel like I was just waking to the dread of Monday and here it is Friday already. Where did this week go? I have to remind myself to stop and smell the roses or whatever is blooming right now. Not the roses, the mums! I'll stop and smell the mums. Good thing too, because I don't even know what they smell like. Next week when I have a minute I'll stop and smell the mums for sure. I'm too busy right at this moment :)
I made fun of Amanda yesterday because she was talking about being excited for Christmas. It's too early to be excited for Christmas isn't it??? ISN'T IT??!!?? If not, I am in big trouble. But she's sort of right- it too will be here before we know it. Then I'll have to smell the poinsettias or something- do they even smell? I'll let you know if I have time to stop and smell them, but it isn't likely because I tend to procrastinate about Christmas shopping. Unless someone thrusts a poinsettia in my face and tells me to sniff it or else, you'll have to take time from your own procrastination to see what they smell like. Don't depend on me for that report.

Where was I? Oh yeah..it's Friday again. Enjoy your weekend :)

Where are my ruby slippers anyway?

We had us a big ol' scary storm last night. Yes indeedy. Made me feel sort of bad because when the lightening first started I was thankful because I knew it would mean no soccer practice (bad mama). Then it just kept getting stronger and stronger. The local news never went onto National news because they couldn't stop talking about the weather. The TV showed maps which started out green, yellow and orange, but as it neared us it turned to all colors of the rainbow. Never a good sign. Especially when purple is on a warpath straight towards your house. Definitely not a good sign. Even worse when your own mama calls to make sure you and the family of chiclets are holed up in the basement (we weren't yet, but I could hear a margin of panic in my dad's voice in the background. Making sure we knew it was headed straight for us). Then the weather boy mentioned our specific city and go to the NE corner of your basement in the same sentence so we packed it in. When it was all over, it ended up breaking up before it reached us but the word tornado was mentioned more than once. We had no major damage but it sure was scary. The kids were a total mess, but storms tend to whip them into a frenzy. I think because trees fell on my parents house during a storm a few years ago, while we all happened to be there. Justin was scarred for life over it. Seriously, everytime the wind blows hard, Justin starts looking at trees with a note of worry on his face. He tried to be all cool and seem unfazed last night over our storm, but then he blew it when he asked whether or not any trees could hit our house. It's hard not to laugh at him because having a tree phobia is not normal for a 6 yr old & he has a bad one.
In the end we had some lovely golf ball sized hail in the yard to gaze at until it melted in the rain. No storm damage and we got out of soccer practice!

I saw a very funny thing today....

I went upstairs to Hannah's room to brush her hair and do something with it for the day. As I was perched on her bed, brushing away the syrup from this morning's waffles (frozen, not homemade. Martha, I ain't) I happened to glance over and notice that Hannah had taped a photo to one of the drawers of her Polly Pockets organizer. I seriously had to laugh out loud. You will too... Go ahead and laugh...

Yes...that (in case you can't see clearly) is Matt's college senior picture. I don't even know where she found it. But it is now very securely (4 pieces of scotch tape) pasted to the stack of Polly drawers right smack next to her bed. Isn't he a stud??? This is the year we met. Can't you see why I fell madly in love with him? What do you mean, no??!!?? OH!! That's right, I forget he isn't very photogenic sometimes :) Sorry Matt. I am now getting giggles at your expense. In all fairness, if there was a photo of me scotch taped to Justin's bedside I would totally share it as well. Alas, there is not.

Now you have all seen a very funny thing today too. You're welcome.

The water strikes again...

Not the fish. The fish are alive and well in their store bought water. The lovely city water we are drinking is now plotting to destroy my coffee pot. THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE. I had to throw out an entire pot of coffee this morning because it was leaking all over my counter. Apparently the nastiness that lives in our water also clogs up coffee pots. Again...water if you are listening...this is NOT ACCEPTABLE. You may not kill my coffee pot.
I had to spend time this morning tearing apart my coffee pot and cleaning it all out (am I supposed to do this on a regular basis?? DOH!). I don't have time for coffee pot maintenance today. It is toilet cleaning Tuesday and I have lots more toilets now than I did not so long ago. Toilet cleaning Tues sucks up a good chunk of my day. I did not have time to squeeze in a little coffee pot maintenance. I did fix it, and it is no longer leaking. It would've been an ugly scene if it was un-fixable. An ugly, ugly scene. It was bad enough that I had to waste a pot of cookie doodle flavor coffee. Hello...it's my favorite flavor.

Poor kitty....

"have I not yet endured so much in my life, that I need to deal with this boy trying to balance Hot Wheels on my head? I was trying to take a nap. Leave me alone child!"

Life in normal land

Mom is home from the last dog show for awhile so we get our normal life back. I can honestly say I don't know what our normal life is. It's been awhile since we did it! I do know it involves a MOUNTAIN of laundry and 4 toilets that are calling my name and begging to be scrubbed. This week is going to involve a lot of cleaning and honey-do lists (Matt is reading this and cringing at his desk- sorry honey) but it feels good to be able to have time to do some of this stuff! When mom is out of town it is impossible to have time to do anything extra!
On another note it occurred to me the other day that it was this day last year that my husband lost his job. Got downsized- such an ugly word. I will never forget the sinking in the pit of my stomach when he gave me the news. We had no warning that it was coming, just BAM!! it's over. When I look back over the last year it is a jumble of emotions. Some of them not so good. I can recall more than one phone call to him while he was here in Ohio working and I was still in Michigan, where I was telling him I was on the edge of insanity and I didn't know if I could take it much longer. Luckily everything worked out and we are at the other end of it all now. New job, new house, new state, new schools. Lots of new stuff and it's all good so far! There were times in the thick of the mess when someone would say to me "everything happens for a reason" and I wanted to knock their teeth out. Anyone who has ever been in the middle of a crisis and been told that, knows what I mean. In the back of your head you know it has happened for a reason, but you can't clear the cobwebs enough to see what the reason is, and therefore don't want to hear about that nonsense. All I knew at the time was that my husband was unemployed, we have 3 children to feed, and it all sucked. Now I know the reason. Matt's former employer had a major crisis of their own a few months after he was let go. A crisis that would have made his job pure hell. Which in turn would have certainly made him a bear to deal with at home. Beyond that, we now live minutes away from almost all of our family, instead of hours. My kids see most their grandparents all the time instead of once a month or on holidays. That is reason enough for me. I'm thankful for the blessings that got us through to this side of the mess. Without wonderful friends and family, we'd still be hanging out in Michigan waiting for the house to sell and I would be babbling to myself and rocking in a corner of a room.

Can I bring Spanky?

A little girl in Hannah's class had a birthday this week. Her parents bought her a new kitten for her birthday, and she brought it to school with her on Fri. to show everyone. It was very cute. Just a little ball of grey fluff. Hannah came out of class and immediately asked if she could bring Spanky on her birthday. I could do nothing but laugh out loud at the thought of it. I told her that her friend had a sweet little kitten and Spanky is a 14 year old, cranky cat with a crooked leg that makes most people wince when they see it the first time. He would NOT be a big hit with the preschool crowd. Hannah was determined to have her way and argued with me for quite awhile about it. She won't win this one. No matter how long she chooses to argue. I won't force Spanky to be cuddled/petted/tortured by a group of 18 4 & 5 year olds. He wouldn't tolerate any of that nonsense for a moment and would probably just pop a kid across the face a run out of the room hissing and spitting all the way. What fun!!

Spanky says "hell no"

Mean kids suck...

Mama bear instincts go into overdrive when I see other kids being nasty to mine. I can't help it. Both of my kids dealt with it yesterday and right in front of me- which makes it worse.
Hannah's class went on a field trip to the apple orchard yesterday. They all went to a park to play when it was over and she was happily swinging on a tire swing and I was talking to the mom whose little girl was sharing the swing with her. Then a third girl came over to swing with them. She hopped on and promptly started quizzing Hannah on why she had to wear glasses. Hannah put her head down and answered her back, "because they help me see better." Then the little brat face, snot head girl said, "well they really make you look funny. I wouldn't wear them". The other mom who was standing with me almost fell over. It wasn't snot head's mom. She, of course, was nowhere to be seen. So this other sweet mother said "I think they make you look beautiful Hannah. I wish I had a pair just like them for myself." I could have kissed her. Mostly because Hannah is REALLY self-conscious about her glasses. She hates having to wear them. After the sweet mom spoke up, Hannah giggled and was instantly happy again. I am a firm believer in letting them at least try to deal with things like that on their own, but I was having a hard time not stepping in and pushing snot head right off of the tire. I wouldn't have done that- but I wanted to. Why do little girls, even at such a young age, feel the need to bring others girls down? Irritates the shit out of me.
THEN...at Hannah's soccer practice last night. Justin was wanting to play football with one of the boys who was there. He's never played football and really hasn't even tossed it around much unless it's with Adam in the living room. Then it's just knocking lamps down and stuff so they don't get to play all that long before my mom threatens bodily harm if they don't stop. The kid who had the football was just kicking it around alone- no one else was even there yet. Justin walked over and asked him if he could throw it with him and the kid got all nasty with him about it. He couldn't have been but a year or so older, but he's looking at Justin and telling him he won't do it right and he should just leave him alone so he could play with the bigger kids when they got there. How does this kid know Justin isn't a total football stud?? He is, of course, NOT even remotely stud like and probably would've flinched and ducked if the ball came at his face (he's so like his mama that way) but the kid could've at least given him a shot. He was one of those kids who makes you roll your eyes anyways because he was acting like a total ass. Acting like he, himself was a football god, when he clearly was NOT. I'm guessing he didn't want Justin to be really good at it on the off chance that the other kids would come over and ignore Mr. holier than thou and opt for playing with Justin. If he'd have given him a chance, he'd have seen that Justin stinks royally at football. His playtime with the older boys was totally safe from Justin stealing it away. Still- once again why do kids do that??? Why do they have to make other people feel like dirt in order to make themselves feel better? What's worse is those kids who never grow out of it, and turn into brat face, snot head adults. I've known a few of them in my day. There is nothing worse than a kid like that who chooses not to grow out of that hateful stage. You know at least one, don't you? You've wanted to push them off of the tire swing more than once- admit it.

The evil uglies are back...

I can't even post anything fun. I am tied up in PMS and add to it first days of a diet (my favorite diet, but one that gives you a nasty attitude for a few days in the beginning). Add to that my mom being out of town AGAIN (thank God this is the last week for a long time). My brain is fried and I am not a nice person.
It is evil. It is ugly.