Technorati Blogging Bid'ness

Okay, Technorati. This? Is my blog. Verify away. :)

Q5T7UMSCNSMB

A margarita for mommy. and a bloody nose for you!

After the *good* time I had day before yesterday with Duke drinking piss and tequila, I figured it would be at least another week before something note-worthy happened. I should know better. That’s never the case.

Today started out normal enough. I woke up late…as usual. The kids got to school late…again. I picked up my Mom and made the *adult* decision to have some balls and take initiative to continue working out every day, so that’s exactly what we did. After shaping my body into a *true* work of art, we decided to grab a bite to eat, and get something healthy. Fate intervened when some moron pulled into MY parking space in the deli, so we were forced to wait for another. Then I realized that Chili’s was in the next lot over…and we *could* have something healthy there too. Three Southwest egg rolls, 15 chili glazed chicken wings, and *ahem* 3 margaritas later, it was time for a nap. Hey…I earned it!

I crashed at my aunt’s house for a few minutes (or 2 hours), and then we went to pick up the kids. That’s when the *real* fun started. I was pleased as punch that Gracelyn got a green dot, AND a recommendation from the teacher to be placed in the Gifted & Talented program!!

We were on our way home when Violet started beating Gracelyn in the head with a plastic bottle (to congratulate her on her school achievement). It was innocent enough, I suppose, but Gracelyn was NOT impressed, and retaliated with a punch in the gut. Payback from Violet was served up with another bottle smack to the head, and hair pulling. Gracelyn let out the most high-pitched scream *evah*, started crying, turned around, and slapped Violet in the face. Now both girls were crying and screaming, and I did the thing any *good* mother would do. I started laughing, and told them both they had it coming. ALL while I’m driving!! Another glance in the rearview mirror showed Violet with a bloody nose. About the time I told Quentin to get a napkin, my Mom yelled, “Oh no! She’s bleeding everywhere!”

I try to imagine what people in other cars thought when they passed us….all in my pimped out mini-van, me driving, my Mom’s butt up in the air….because she was standing on her knees in the seat, leaning over trying to help Violet. By this time Gracelyn’s screaming thinking she’s killed Violet. Quentin was absolutely NO help at all. Violet’s nose was literally *squirting* blood, and I was saying, “Wait! Someone get my camera!” Priorities, people. It’s ALL about priorities.

Long story short, everyone in the family survived. The only death was for Violet’s shirt and 5 blood soaked napkins. When I got her out of the car, she had blood all over her legs and said, “But Mom! My wegs is bweedin’!" I didn’t get a picture of her bloody face, but I did get one of some of the damage, and looking perfect 20 minutes later.

This would technically make her *third* broken nose, in less than a year, and she’ll be 3 next month. Anyone want to donate to the upcoming nose job fund? I would be *much* obliged.

We do NOT drink piss in our family!

So it’s been a coon’s age since I last blogged. We’ll just say my unfortunate run-in with a pine tree gave me writers block for a bit (or 3 months). The pine tree *finally* met it’s ultimate demise a few days ago, when I saw it being chopped and loaded into a trailer, and the rest being put into a wood chipper. Suck on *that*, pine!

You may not have any idea of what I’m referring to with all this pine tree talk. In October, on my way to drop off my girls at school, a pine tree smite me in the SUV, so to speak, and I nearly met Jesus up close and personal. Fortunately the girls were unharmed. My SUV died and went to junk heaven, and I was taken to ETMC. I don’t remember a thing, but I got 8 liters of blood (thank you very *much*, donors), and spent 6-8 hours in surgery for them to save my now-gimpy left arm. After a few days on a ventilator, and some good drugs (from the best parts I recall, of course), I was released about a week after the accident. I’d also like to extend a *very* personal thank you to the suckbag pine tree, who forced me to have to drive a minivan now.

I had to have spots on my biceps closed up a few times, because it kept coming open, so *that* was nice. My stupid arm is still numb, and burns all the time. A few of my fingers won’t bend, and that pisses me off when I need them to help button my pants, but honestly I shouldn’t complain. I *do* have one of the best scars EVAH and it instantly makes me 10 times hotter. I’m lucky I’m alive and that I have 2 arms.

Now, on to *more* important things.

I’ve come to the conclusion that Duke should live in Japan because he likes to drink piss. Piss is, after all, sterile. If you’re stranded out somewhere for a long while, and need something to drink, you can drink piss if you need to. It still doesn’t make me a fan of it. I’m not sure how long I’ll have to wait before I can kiss Duke on the mouth.

Fa’real yo. He managed to escape the carefully planned out trap doors we have put up around the house; this particular one made up of about 7 pillows. He was able to squeeze his little fat body underneath them to the other side of the couch, and made a beeline down the hall. I wasn’t worried, since I knew I shut the doors in the hallway. No problem. Until a few minutes later when I hear Gracelyn screaming, “NO Duke! You can drink that! Oh my gosh, Mom! Come here!! Duke is drinking pee and sucking on toilet paper!!!” LOVELY.

Apparently Gracelyn went into the bathroom earlier to wash her hands and forgot to shut the door. It was *also* disgustingly apparent that Byron is in 3rd grade and *still*, at 34 years of age, doesn’t know how to flush the toilet. Duke was standing at the toilet, leaned over with his arms in it, and covered in piss water. Holy piss indeed ma’am. Needless to say, Duke was bathed in GermEx.

Later, in the bat cave, all was relatively calm. Duke was upset because he didn’t think I’d ever kiss him again, so he crawled over to one of his favorite parts of the house. The Liquor Cabinet. He took out his favorite old bottle of tequila, started beating a spoon on it, and chewing on the lid. It *was * pretty cute, so I even ran to find the camera to take a picture. I switched over to look at it, to make sure he wasn’t all goggle-eyed, and noticed something more important. The lid was sitting behind him, on the floor. The cap to the bottle. A UWS (unidentified wet spot) was on the floor behind him. It seems Dukers took it upon himself to get the lid off, and washed his mouth out all antiseptic-like so I’d feel better about kissing him (he *knows* I love margaritas). Fortunately I was only gone getting the camera for 15 seconds, so he wasn’t *totally* soused. We’re SO waiting for his 1st birthday party for that!!

PS: I got extensions, so I look like this now: