It is just me, or does this ever so slightly represent the most gnarly wang in history?
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
A gummy...what?!
This evening I ran to the store to get some Dr. Pepper, and came back home with treats for the kids (perchance to buy me 10 more minutes of sanity). I bought my girls these giant gummy snakes. Violet tore hers into lots of pieces. She bit half its head off and threw it at me. *This* slice of yummy goodness is what remained.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Violet, do you have beer in your bedroom again?
"Violet, do you have beer in your bedroom again?" And no...I'm not talking to my 21-year-old daughter. She's 2. What can I say? I'm practicing right now for our future talks.
This morning I went into the girls' room, and immediately smelled beer. Byron mentioned something about it the day before, but I couldn't smell anything at the time. Besides, their room had been *thoroughly* cleaned just 2 days before. Today though? REEKED of beer. Like the party back in the day that I went to where some stupid girl poured beer all over me and my leather bomber jacket, and then I had to walk home, and then I told my parents I fell in sewage instead (to explain the beer, sticker burrs and mud all over me). Yeah, I was a *great* liar back in the day....and you *so* know they believed it. I digress.
I started picking up random things in the girls room and smelling them, trying to diagnose the problem. I finally got around to the play kitchen, moved the little table out of the way, and found this:
Notice how I used the banana for scale, so you could see the actual size of said mystery object. Okay, actually I found the banana in the room too, but isn't it cool how the 2 foods were sitting just like that so I could attempt to use it for an excuse?
A photo from Ground Zero. Notice the height of the object. I think there's a small stem in it too.
I asked Violet what it was, and she said, "Itha uh-may-tah. Now. Put ith in my fidja-ratr.", and she politely opened the door. Translation: It's a tomato. Now. Put it in my refridgerator.
First one to correctly identify the mystery object gets to keep it!
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Can't anything ever be easy?!?!?!
Every time my family gets ready to leave from home, I tell the girls to go outside, get in the car, and put their seat belts on. No matter what I threaten them with (grounding, taking toys away, spanking, etc.) they *never* go straight to the car. They always chase after the cats and dogs, ride their bikes….*anything* to avoid doing what I asked them.
Why would I think this morning would be any different? Byron had already left for church, so I herded up the children and had them heading to the car. The girls, as usual, didn’t get in the car like I told them to, so I was already mad. I was slightly relieved by the fact that it took me less than 10 minutes to get them in and go.
I got about a mile from home when I heard Duke gagging. I looked in the back seat to see Violet with her fingers in his mouth, so naturally I told her to get them out. She’s been known for sticking them in there before, trying to get him to “bite” her. After she took her hand out he was still gagging, so I started slowing down to pull over. Then Violet shouted, “My key! My key!” I’m pretty sure I had my first coronary right at that moment when I realized she had shoved “her” key in his mouth. Where did she get the key ,you might ask. I would sheepishly reply, “Well, Violet was making noise and crying for some keys to play with, and I didn’t have her key ring with me. Instead I just gave her a key I found in the cup holder to shut her up.” I had just said I couldn’t drive with all the noise, and was doing anything to keep them quiet. Just in case you’re in this situation in the future….never give your 2 year old a key….ESPECIALLY if they’re sitting next to their 5 month old brother.
I was still going about 40 mph, but by this time the he wasn’t making any noise. I whipped the car over into the nearest ditch, jumped out, and jerked him out. When you’re in a hurry, those stupid car seat buckles are impossible to get off. I turned him upside down on one arm, and hit him as hard as I could in the back. His eyes, nose and mouth were purple. Look, I’m LOVING the color purple in my hair, and even in a shirt. But on my child’s face? Not attractive.
I was still out in the middle of nowhere, and there were only 2 houses nearby. I picked the one with the shorter driveway, but it was still a good ¼ mile. And then I started running, and kept running until I fell down. Jumped back up, kicked off my flip-flops, and kept running. Ran into their dogs, and kept running. I’m not exactly sure what they thought about some crazy-purple-haired girl running down their driveway with a baby, but I know if I ever saw something like that, it would scare the ever loving tar out of me! Finally I made it to their house, and rang the doorbell a million times over. The residents, a man and woman, ran out to help, thinking I’d had a car wreck. When they figured out what was going on, we all ran inside and they called 911. I kept beating Duke on the back trying to get him to breathe, but we never saw the key come out. The operator stayed on the phone with us until Duke started breathing good again, and they asked me to take him to the hospital.
The lady, Al Sumpter, drove me back out to my car, and my girls. Did I already mention I left them in the car with it running? I knew they couldn’t go anywhere, even if they put the car in drive, because it was STUCK in the mud. I figured with my luck a cop would drive and I’d get in trouble for leaving children unattended, but that didn’t happen. Both girls were still in the car. Violet was swinging from the grip bar and playing, and Gracelyn was crying. Gracelyn informed me that Violet needed to pee, so she just went all over the back seat. Lovely! Then Violet said, “Where’s my key?!” Sounds about right. My car had sunk further into the mud, but Mr. Sumpter went and got some chains to pull me out. I will be forever grateful to that couple!
I took Duke to the GSMC E.R. They got him back pretty quickly and took an x-ray. They’d already discussed how they’d have to get the key out, which would require him being put under, and using a scope, or doing surgery. Neither seemed to appealing to me. See how upset Duke looked by the whole ordeal? Obviously VERY stressed...lol.
The doctor came back with the x-ray results, and finally told us…NO KEY! He said it must’ve flown out one of the times I was hitting Duke in the back. I have never been so relieved in my life!
This afternoon’s plan? To find every spare key, change, or any other small part lying around and throw it away, or put it up and away. My kids will have to think of some other creative way to have me institutionalized!
Why would I think this morning would be any different? Byron had already left for church, so I herded up the children and had them heading to the car. The girls, as usual, didn’t get in the car like I told them to, so I was already mad. I was slightly relieved by the fact that it took me less than 10 minutes to get them in and go.
I got about a mile from home when I heard Duke gagging. I looked in the back seat to see Violet with her fingers in his mouth, so naturally I told her to get them out. She’s been known for sticking them in there before, trying to get him to “bite” her. After she took her hand out he was still gagging, so I started slowing down to pull over. Then Violet shouted, “My key! My key!” I’m pretty sure I had my first coronary right at that moment when I realized she had shoved “her” key in his mouth. Where did she get the key ,you might ask. I would sheepishly reply, “Well, Violet was making noise and crying for some keys to play with, and I didn’t have her key ring with me. Instead I just gave her a key I found in the cup holder to shut her up.” I had just said I couldn’t drive with all the noise, and was doing anything to keep them quiet. Just in case you’re in this situation in the future….never give your 2 year old a key….ESPECIALLY if they’re sitting next to their 5 month old brother.
I was still going about 40 mph, but by this time the he wasn’t making any noise. I whipped the car over into the nearest ditch, jumped out, and jerked him out. When you’re in a hurry, those stupid car seat buckles are impossible to get off. I turned him upside down on one arm, and hit him as hard as I could in the back. His eyes, nose and mouth were purple. Look, I’m LOVING the color purple in my hair, and even in a shirt. But on my child’s face? Not attractive.
I was still out in the middle of nowhere, and there were only 2 houses nearby. I picked the one with the shorter driveway, but it was still a good ¼ mile. And then I started running, and kept running until I fell down. Jumped back up, kicked off my flip-flops, and kept running. Ran into their dogs, and kept running. I’m not exactly sure what they thought about some crazy-purple-haired girl running down their driveway with a baby, but I know if I ever saw something like that, it would scare the ever loving tar out of me! Finally I made it to their house, and rang the doorbell a million times over. The residents, a man and woman, ran out to help, thinking I’d had a car wreck. When they figured out what was going on, we all ran inside and they called 911. I kept beating Duke on the back trying to get him to breathe, but we never saw the key come out. The operator stayed on the phone with us until Duke started breathing good again, and they asked me to take him to the hospital.
The lady, Al Sumpter, drove me back out to my car, and my girls. Did I already mention I left them in the car with it running? I knew they couldn’t go anywhere, even if they put the car in drive, because it was STUCK in the mud. I figured with my luck a cop would drive and I’d get in trouble for leaving children unattended, but that didn’t happen. Both girls were still in the car. Violet was swinging from the grip bar and playing, and Gracelyn was crying. Gracelyn informed me that Violet needed to pee, so she just went all over the back seat. Lovely! Then Violet said, “Where’s my key?!” Sounds about right. My car had sunk further into the mud, but Mr. Sumpter went and got some chains to pull me out. I will be forever grateful to that couple!
I took Duke to the GSMC E.R. They got him back pretty quickly and took an x-ray. They’d already discussed how they’d have to get the key out, which would require him being put under, and using a scope, or doing surgery. Neither seemed to appealing to me. See how upset Duke looked by the whole ordeal? Obviously VERY stressed...lol.
The doctor came back with the x-ray results, and finally told us…NO KEY! He said it must’ve flown out one of the times I was hitting Duke in the back. I have never been so relieved in my life!
This afternoon’s plan? To find every spare key, change, or any other small part lying around and throw it away, or put it up and away. My kids will have to think of some other creative way to have me institutionalized!
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Random Stories & Thoughts
This is probably the longest post in blogger history, but it’s just a few random thoughts, and some of our plans for the next few days. Read it through to the end or don’t. I won’t ever know the difference.
A few days ago, Duke woke up from a nap and Gracelyn told me she thought he had “the rabies”. His legs and arms had a red “rash”, but it was actually the pattern of the sofa fabric where he’d been sleeping. Thank you very much, “the rabies”.
Gracelyn also thinks that the word “titties” is “tibbies”, and bastard is “pastar” (Thank you, Austin Powers). Neither of which is acceptable for her to say, but it’s still funny.
This morning when driving the girls to school, Violet started whining, “Mommmmyyyy! Gimme it! Gimme my we-tahd!!!” It sound like she was saying one of the very few words I won’t say…you know….derogatory term for mentally challenged. Again and again she yelled, almost crying, but still insisting I give her the we-tahd. After a few minutes of listening to her waller, I turned around and saw what she was pointing to. Her sister’s purse, in the shape of a GUITAR. I laughed and said, “Violet, can you say ‘gi-gi-GUI-tar?!” She replied with, “Yep! Weeeee-taaaaaahd.” Guess she told me!
I stopped in the church office this morning after taking the girls to their classes, to print out our boarding passes for the flight. I was holding Duke in my lap at the time. He decided he’d had enough waiting, so he puked on me. Twice. A lot. No big deal…this is my fourth kid, and honestly…what’s a day without puke? Or artwork on the walls? Or a package of red kool-aid opened in the back of the car and mixed with spit to “paint” on the seat? (That piss doesn’t come out! It literally looks like I carried a dead deer back there.) Or a concussion? (Violet had her 2nd concussion in less than 6 months last week, thanks to the jury-rigged “safety net” at Dairy Queen not keeping her out of the wrong area…so she climbed to the top of the outside of the slide, and jumped. I’d say it was about 10 feet in the air, and she landed flat on her back. I was in the room! I couldn’t get her out, because the stupid area was too small for me to get in. Even Gracelyn couldn’t fit back there, but leave to Violet – a.k.a Evil Knievil Jr. – to figure out how. I think we’ll be making her a helmet soon!) I digress. So Duke puked on my hand. A few hours later we’re in the car on our way to Dallas, and I rub my hand by my face…and smelled….baby puke. Apparently? It’s *real* hard to clean out of the crevices of a ring.
So I’m looking out the airplane, and wondering about all sorts of questions I’ll forget to ask myself when we land. For instance…what are all these circles on the ground? I’m guessing they’re crops of some sort, that would make sense….but crops of what? And how do they plant them in a super-cool perfect circle? With a monster pointy-thingy that you used in Geometry to draw circles with? Secondly: There are TONS of these little “driveways” with squares of dirt at the very end. From up here it looks like a community of gophers or prairie dogs, but I have NO IDEA what they are…and this is the crap that will keep me up at night. *If* I happen to remember it later. I’m looking out the window right now, and there’s like 10 square miles of gopher cities. Insanity.
The drink lady & dude passed us a bit ago, and offered free drinks. Nice of ‘em. Then said we could buy a cookie, some nuts, or chips for the price of your firstborn. For real. $4 each. Those suckers better be plated in GOLD, or the size of a dinner plate if I’m buying a cookie for $4. Now some moron a few rows behind me traded his child for a sandwich, and that’s all I can smell. I don’t know what it is, but it smells like Schlotzky’s. He better *hope* I don’t have to go to the bathroom, or it will be on like Donkey Kong. I purposely haven’t eaten today, just so I wouldn’t have to relive the last experience I had flying to Vegas….3 Xanax and an hour in the bathroom later….and so the story goes.
I’m *so* gonna slap the kid behind me. He has to be about 15…reminds me of Quentin…and if it were Quentin sitting back there? I would’ve already smacked the back of his head. I swear he’s tapping and playing drums with boxes of NERDS. Sucka, I have NOT had enough medicine to take care of you yet. We’ll be landing in Vegas, and this kid’s gonna need *major* dental work, because I’m gonna his teeth out.
And now we just flew over something that resembled an Olympic-sized swimming pool. Or maybe two Olympic swimming pools. But instead of cement it looked like tar around the outside, and it was filled with dirt. Weird. Oh! Oh! Oh! And the Hoover Dam! And Lake Mead. I’m *so* impressed. I could probably enjoy the view better if not for the searing pain in my hand making my vision blurry (a bit of turbulence and Byron has a death grip).
So the next few days should be fun. Or interesting. Or both. Tonight we’re not doing anything planned, just ho-humming and watching the oddities on the street. I’ll be SO ready to eat by then. I want a near-alive filet mignon and some bread.
Friday will probably be the best day EVAH. We got tickets to the first ever UFC Fan Expo, coinciding with the 100th UFC Fight Night. There will be tons of vendors there giving crap away, and even more importantly, my main UFC Man, the one who will take me back to Canada to be his love slave, Mr. Georges St. Pierre will be there. Don’t think I haven’t already mapped his EXACT location in the building, because I have. He will be my first stop. If I can peel myself from his body at any point in time, there will be other awesome fighters there, and the Octagon Girls too. I’m taking a picture with each and every one of them to pin on my bathroom mirror to drive myself to workout. Or eat another cookie or 17 because I’m so happy I don’t have to be fit for a living. I also bought Byron, as his actual “present” for our anniversary, a 2-hour training session with Wanderlei “The Axe Murderer” Silva. Suck on that! Which reminds me, what is his actual “present” for me? I’m betting it’s the $100 to gamble with. Sucka. He better be glad I love him.
After that I’ll be home ‘til Sunday, and then head out again that afternoon to redeem myself ‘til Friday as a 7th Grade Church Camp Counselor. Pray for those kids, y’all.
A few days ago, Duke woke up from a nap and Gracelyn told me she thought he had “the rabies”. His legs and arms had a red “rash”, but it was actually the pattern of the sofa fabric where he’d been sleeping. Thank you very much, “the rabies”.
Gracelyn also thinks that the word “titties” is “tibbies”, and bastard is “pastar” (Thank you, Austin Powers). Neither of which is acceptable for her to say, but it’s still funny.
This morning when driving the girls to school, Violet started whining, “Mommmmyyyy! Gimme it! Gimme my we-tahd!!!” It sound like she was saying one of the very few words I won’t say…you know….derogatory term for mentally challenged. Again and again she yelled, almost crying, but still insisting I give her the we-tahd. After a few minutes of listening to her waller, I turned around and saw what she was pointing to. Her sister’s purse, in the shape of a GUITAR. I laughed and said, “Violet, can you say ‘gi-gi-GUI-tar?!” She replied with, “Yep! Weeeee-taaaaaahd.” Guess she told me!
I stopped in the church office this morning after taking the girls to their classes, to print out our boarding passes for the flight. I was holding Duke in my lap at the time. He decided he’d had enough waiting, so he puked on me. Twice. A lot. No big deal…this is my fourth kid, and honestly…what’s a day without puke? Or artwork on the walls? Or a package of red kool-aid opened in the back of the car and mixed with spit to “paint” on the seat? (That piss doesn’t come out! It literally looks like I carried a dead deer back there.) Or a concussion? (Violet had her 2nd concussion in less than 6 months last week, thanks to the jury-rigged “safety net” at Dairy Queen not keeping her out of the wrong area…so she climbed to the top of the outside of the slide, and jumped. I’d say it was about 10 feet in the air, and she landed flat on her back. I was in the room! I couldn’t get her out, because the stupid area was too small for me to get in. Even Gracelyn couldn’t fit back there, but leave to Violet – a.k.a Evil Knievil Jr. – to figure out how. I think we’ll be making her a helmet soon!) I digress. So Duke puked on my hand. A few hours later we’re in the car on our way to Dallas, and I rub my hand by my face…and smelled….baby puke. Apparently? It’s *real* hard to clean out of the crevices of a ring.
So I’m looking out the airplane, and wondering about all sorts of questions I’ll forget to ask myself when we land. For instance…what are all these circles on the ground? I’m guessing they’re crops of some sort, that would make sense….but crops of what? And how do they plant them in a super-cool perfect circle? With a monster pointy-thingy that you used in Geometry to draw circles with? Secondly: There are TONS of these little “driveways” with squares of dirt at the very end. From up here it looks like a community of gophers or prairie dogs, but I have NO IDEA what they are…and this is the crap that will keep me up at night. *If* I happen to remember it later. I’m looking out the window right now, and there’s like 10 square miles of gopher cities. Insanity.
The drink lady & dude passed us a bit ago, and offered free drinks. Nice of ‘em. Then said we could buy a cookie, some nuts, or chips for the price of your firstborn. For real. $4 each. Those suckers better be plated in GOLD, or the size of a dinner plate if I’m buying a cookie for $4. Now some moron a few rows behind me traded his child for a sandwich, and that’s all I can smell. I don’t know what it is, but it smells like Schlotzky’s. He better *hope* I don’t have to go to the bathroom, or it will be on like Donkey Kong. I purposely haven’t eaten today, just so I wouldn’t have to relive the last experience I had flying to Vegas….3 Xanax and an hour in the bathroom later….and so the story goes.
I’m *so* gonna slap the kid behind me. He has to be about 15…reminds me of Quentin…and if it were Quentin sitting back there? I would’ve already smacked the back of his head. I swear he’s tapping and playing drums with boxes of NERDS. Sucka, I have NOT had enough medicine to take care of you yet. We’ll be landing in Vegas, and this kid’s gonna need *major* dental work, because I’m gonna his teeth out.
And now we just flew over something that resembled an Olympic-sized swimming pool. Or maybe two Olympic swimming pools. But instead of cement it looked like tar around the outside, and it was filled with dirt. Weird. Oh! Oh! Oh! And the Hoover Dam! And Lake Mead. I’m *so* impressed. I could probably enjoy the view better if not for the searing pain in my hand making my vision blurry (a bit of turbulence and Byron has a death grip).
So the next few days should be fun. Or interesting. Or both. Tonight we’re not doing anything planned, just ho-humming and watching the oddities on the street. I’ll be SO ready to eat by then. I want a near-alive filet mignon and some bread.
Friday will probably be the best day EVAH. We got tickets to the first ever UFC Fan Expo, coinciding with the 100th UFC Fight Night. There will be tons of vendors there giving crap away, and even more importantly, my main UFC Man, the one who will take me back to Canada to be his love slave, Mr. Georges St. Pierre will be there. Don’t think I haven’t already mapped his EXACT location in the building, because I have. He will be my first stop. If I can peel myself from his body at any point in time, there will be other awesome fighters there, and the Octagon Girls too. I’m taking a picture with each and every one of them to pin on my bathroom mirror to drive myself to workout. Or eat another cookie or 17 because I’m so happy I don’t have to be fit for a living. I also bought Byron, as his actual “present” for our anniversary, a 2-hour training session with Wanderlei “The Axe Murderer” Silva. Suck on that! Which reminds me, what is his actual “present” for me? I’m betting it’s the $100 to gamble with. Sucka. He better be glad I love him.
After that I’ll be home ‘til Sunday, and then head out again that afternoon to redeem myself ‘til Friday as a 7th Grade Church Camp Counselor. Pray for those kids, y’all.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
On my way to the looney bin
It should’ve been simple enough. I was thinking about something along these lines:
“Kids, it’s time to go to VBS! Everyone get in the car. Let’s go have some fun!”
But, alas! It was not meant to be. Flipping figures.
Today was technically my first day unemployed. Of course, everyone *knows* that’s complete b.s. There will NEVER be a day when I’m actually unemployed…*ahem* thank you, four children and husband, who INSISTS on acting like one of the children most days….especially TODAY when I needed him to act like a husband, but oooooooohhhhh no. The stars were NOT aligned in the heavens for me today. I tempted Fate, and that byotch took the bait and ran with it.
I woke up after a nice, long – and might I add *well-deserved* – nap. Stretched, exhaled, and surveyed my kingdom. All was well. Looked at the clock and saw that I had around an hour to get myself and the kids ready before heading to church. Took a shower, still feeling pretty pleased with my control over the situation, and then the Children’s Director called. “Hey! I was just calling to remind you to bring the crocodile, tablecloths, pom-poms and sandwiches. Oh – and you have less than an hour to be here.” Well piss. I forgot ALL about that crap. (In my defense, I’ve been suffering from *severe* short-term memory for the last year or so. She, along with a few others, told me NUMEROUS times yesterday to bring these items. And then they reminded me on Facebook. And reminded me yet again today with emails and phone calls.)
I immediately went into Panic Mode, running around putting lipstick on with one hand, and slapping kids teeth out with the other. My real problem began when I asked Byron for help. It’s odd to me how he’s sick when I ask him to do something. This week, for instance. He was sick for 2 days, then recovered for jiu-jitsu in Dallas on Thursday. He was “sick” again Friday, then better to go to jiu-jitsu Saturday. Fine Sunday, and somehow sick AGAIN this evening when I asked him to get up off his butt and help get kids out the door. You would’ve thought that death was imminent when I mentioned I might leave Duke with him to give me a few extra minutes to do other things, and he could drop him off at my Mom’s when he went to TEACH JIU-JITSU. Notice a pattern here? Most days, fine. Ask him to do something? He’s practically got cholera. (*Disclaimer: He did actually put a onesie on Duke, AND put him in his car seat.)
I’m stomping around, yelling, herding children, just trying to get out the door. Byron eventually offers to keep Duke, but only after I’ve threatened to trash the thing that gives him life. The yin to his yang. The good to his evil. The woman to his man. X-Box 360 game UFC 2009 Undisputed. Instead I tell him *where* he can put his stupid game, and proceed to choke while attempting to yell obscenities.
FINALLY all the kids are in the car, I hop in, and……THERE ARE NO KEYS!!!! NONE! WHAT IN THE SAM HILL?!!?!!!??! Let’s just say it took 20 minutes of searching to find them….in….the……freezer. Thank you, Violet. Or maybe it was Byron, since I think he secretly *likes* hearing me complain. He’s sick in the head that way.
By this time I’m sweating, my head hurts, and I’m REALLY pissed off. Flying down the road 90-to-nothing, and then I see a lone crocodile sailing through the air. It was too late to go back and get him. Earlier I had tied him to the top of the car with a bread tie, got side tracked, and forgot to tie down his other leg. The croc was a prop for VBS. Oh well. It was for the good of the team.
Could I make it to VBS with 3 of the 4 items required of me? Nope. 2 of the 4? More like it. Hey – 50% ain’t bad. By the time I got to VBS, 20 minutes late, dragging 3 children…I had come to the realization that I left the sandwiches at home, risked jail time by leaving kids in the car running (with the door locked) while making a dash for more bread and ham, AND forgot the tablecloths.
Think next time….I’ll just stay home instead. Then again, next time? Happens this afternoon. Think I can make it?
“Kids, it’s time to go to VBS! Everyone get in the car. Let’s go have some fun!”
But, alas! It was not meant to be. Flipping figures.
Today was technically my first day unemployed. Of course, everyone *knows* that’s complete b.s. There will NEVER be a day when I’m actually unemployed…*ahem* thank you, four children and husband, who INSISTS on acting like one of the children most days….especially TODAY when I needed him to act like a husband, but oooooooohhhhh no. The stars were NOT aligned in the heavens for me today. I tempted Fate, and that byotch took the bait and ran with it.
I woke up after a nice, long – and might I add *well-deserved* – nap. Stretched, exhaled, and surveyed my kingdom. All was well. Looked at the clock and saw that I had around an hour to get myself and the kids ready before heading to church. Took a shower, still feeling pretty pleased with my control over the situation, and then the Children’s Director called. “Hey! I was just calling to remind you to bring the crocodile, tablecloths, pom-poms and sandwiches. Oh – and you have less than an hour to be here.” Well piss. I forgot ALL about that crap. (In my defense, I’ve been suffering from *severe* short-term memory for the last year or so. She, along with a few others, told me NUMEROUS times yesterday to bring these items. And then they reminded me on Facebook. And reminded me yet again today with emails and phone calls.)
I immediately went into Panic Mode, running around putting lipstick on with one hand, and slapping kids teeth out with the other. My real problem began when I asked Byron for help. It’s odd to me how he’s sick when I ask him to do something. This week, for instance. He was sick for 2 days, then recovered for jiu-jitsu in Dallas on Thursday. He was “sick” again Friday, then better to go to jiu-jitsu Saturday. Fine Sunday, and somehow sick AGAIN this evening when I asked him to get up off his butt and help get kids out the door. You would’ve thought that death was imminent when I mentioned I might leave Duke with him to give me a few extra minutes to do other things, and he could drop him off at my Mom’s when he went to TEACH JIU-JITSU. Notice a pattern here? Most days, fine. Ask him to do something? He’s practically got cholera. (*Disclaimer: He did actually put a onesie on Duke, AND put him in his car seat.)
I’m stomping around, yelling, herding children, just trying to get out the door. Byron eventually offers to keep Duke, but only after I’ve threatened to trash the thing that gives him life. The yin to his yang. The good to his evil. The woman to his man. X-Box 360 game UFC 2009 Undisputed. Instead I tell him *where* he can put his stupid game, and proceed to choke while attempting to yell obscenities.
FINALLY all the kids are in the car, I hop in, and……THERE ARE NO KEYS!!!! NONE! WHAT IN THE SAM HILL?!!?!!!??! Let’s just say it took 20 minutes of searching to find them….in….the……freezer. Thank you, Violet. Or maybe it was Byron, since I think he secretly *likes* hearing me complain. He’s sick in the head that way.
By this time I’m sweating, my head hurts, and I’m REALLY pissed off. Flying down the road 90-to-nothing, and then I see a lone crocodile sailing through the air. It was too late to go back and get him. Earlier I had tied him to the top of the car with a bread tie, got side tracked, and forgot to tie down his other leg. The croc was a prop for VBS. Oh well. It was for the good of the team.
Could I make it to VBS with 3 of the 4 items required of me? Nope. 2 of the 4? More like it. Hey – 50% ain’t bad. By the time I got to VBS, 20 minutes late, dragging 3 children…I had come to the realization that I left the sandwiches at home, risked jail time by leaving kids in the car running (with the door locked) while making a dash for more bread and ham, AND forgot the tablecloths.
Think next time….I’ll just stay home instead. Then again, next time? Happens this afternoon. Think I can make it?
Friday, May 15, 2009
Everybody needs a cop-out now and then...
So I suck. Get over it. I'm totally lame, and haven't have *time* (AHEM thank you four spawn of my womb, insane job, flat tires, puking, dirty house, gymastics, cheer, American Idol, Dancing with the Stars, House, sleeping, reading, and the Antichrist)....so I'm completely cheating and will just post some of my recent status updates from Facebook. I PROMISE to actually put some time and effort into writing something witty (or completely useless and pathetic) for the blog this weekend.
Here's a recap of my activites as of late:
05/15/09:
Lame-o SD camera cards can suck it. Why do I spend *countless* hours...nay, days (!) to get a decent picture of kids (or the dogs. or a sunset. or the puke ever-so-carefully *placed* across the living room and down the hallway and all over the bathroom. pretty much every place BUT the toilet or trash can) just so I can get to work EARLY (because I'm dedicated that way) just for the card to tell me it won't work?!?!
05/14/09:
Check out the growth on my new hair, yo. And baby, this isn't rogaine...it's *genetic*. Suck on that!
Here's a recap of my activites as of late:
05/15/09:
Lame-o SD camera cards can suck it. Why do I spend *countless* hours...nay, days (!) to get a decent picture of kids (or the dogs. or a sunset. or the puke ever-so-carefully *placed* across the living room and down the hallway and all over the bathroom. pretty much every place BUT the toilet or trash can) just so I can get to work EARLY (because I'm dedicated that way) just for the card to tell me it won't work?!?!
05/14/09:
Check out the growth on my new hair, yo. And baby, this isn't rogaine...it's *genetic*. Suck on that!
Why is it that right when I start singing in the car, someone has to talk to me? They come right out of the woodwork, and all *I'm* trying to do it sing a little. It's not every day that you get a chance to belt out Rock Lobster, ya know.
05/13/09:
So I got these super-cool contacts in...they flipping *Sparkle* like nobody's biz. I look like a Cullen, so you know I'm a sexy beast. Or at least that's what I'm telling myself.
Although Duke can't see more than 12 inches away from his face, he can still sense when I walk through the door of my office. He immediately starts screaming. Thaaaaaannnnkkkkssss.
05/12/09:
What's on my mind, you ask? You. You are always on my mind....you are always on my mind. I would *rock* American Idol, yo.
05/11/09:
I'm pretty sure there's a ghost in the bedroom with me. I'm hoping after I go to sleep it'll fold the flippin' clothes. *Ahem* GHOST: If you're reading over my shoulder, get lost. I know jiu-jitsu, dude. Or at least I live with a jiu-jitsu teacher. And he will *really* mess yo face up, fa realz yo. Facial scrub.
Nothing like 'Try A Little Tendeness' by Three Dog Night to get you going on a Monday afternoon. Oh, if you could only *hear* my solo!!!
05/08/09:
You know what *really* p.o.'s me? These stupid little silver hairs that I keep having to pluck out. Who has like 5 silver hairs? Am I supposed get my hair dyed for FIVE hairs? And even worse if I pluck 'em, because they're small and I ended up taking out all the hair AROUND them, so there's a bald spot. I look like I got attacked by mockingbird. Flipping mockingbirds. Worthless!
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Baby Zoee Benefit Concert - Still time to get tickets!
This Friday night May 8th, 2009 at 7:00 p.m. at the Maude Cobb Convention Center in Longview Texas, there is going to be a very special benefit concert event for one-year old childhood cancer victim, Zoee Loissa Smith, or “Baby Zoee” as many folks refer to her
Zoee is a 1-year old little baby girl from Longview who contracted cancer at the age of 6-months old and has now undergone several operations and chemotherapy for the past 8 months at Children’s Hospital in Dallas and continues through these things today… which is a miracle in itself.
This Friday, Mark Cooke & The Cooke County Line will be performing live plus your ticket will include a buffet dinner provided by Jalapeno Tree Restaurants. This event will be a banquet type, seated intimate setting that will be great for a special date night out or even a perfect Mother’s Day present for mom and all for a very worthy and needed cause.
Tickets are on sale Wednesday and Thursday at Cavender's Boot City on the loop in Longview and then available Friday at the Maude Cobb box office. Please join us for this unique dinner style concert and dance as we gather together to help Baby Zoee and her family fight her struggles with childhood cancer.
For complete details about this event, visit http://www.babyzoee.com
PS: PLEASE HELP ZOEE BY REPOSTING THIS TO YOUR FRIENDS. THANK YOU.
Zoee is a 1-year old little baby girl from Longview who contracted cancer at the age of 6-months old and has now undergone several operations and chemotherapy for the past 8 months at Children’s Hospital in Dallas and continues through these things today… which is a miracle in itself.
This Friday, Mark Cooke & The Cooke County Line will be performing live plus your ticket will include a buffet dinner provided by Jalapeno Tree Restaurants. This event will be a banquet type, seated intimate setting that will be great for a special date night out or even a perfect Mother’s Day present for mom and all for a very worthy and needed cause.
Tickets are on sale Wednesday and Thursday at Cavender's Boot City on the loop in Longview and then available Friday at the Maude Cobb box office. Please join us for this unique dinner style concert and dance as we gather together to help Baby Zoee and her family fight her struggles with childhood cancer.
For complete details about this event, visit http://www.babyzoee.com
PS: PLEASE HELP ZOEE BY REPOSTING THIS TO YOUR FRIENDS. THANK YOU.
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