Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Home Alone

So it's Wednesday... I hope everyone was able to enjoy their holiday weekend.

First and foremost... I'd just like to say that I finished this semester with three A's and two B's. Somehow I managed to pull a B out of my art class! I'm so proud of me!

My sister and her Dick flew in from Cali on Thursday and left yesterday evening. We had such a blast! We threw a dart tournament on Friday night at my local white trailer trash bar... of course Dick took first place... but Andy got second place so we were happy. Sucks to get beat in your own bar by out of towners though. My partner for the tournie, Mango, was not on his game and I could only do so much. He's a great shot and we've gone to the top before as partners. We all have bad nights though. We were out in 2 and 2. Bleh. My sister got my best guy friend Chris for a partner. They played a while, but didn't make it to the finals. All in all it was a super fun night. Dick wow'd everyone with his skills on the dart board and my sister kept everyone entertained, as usual.

We did get to Texas to see our mom and granny on Saturday and Sunday. Before we left though, we had to stop at a doc-in-a-box clinic to get some x-rays of my Dick's arm. Somehow he hurt it the night before. We all joked and said that Andy tried to break his dart arm since he was getting spanked over and over again. Too bad he broke the wrong arm. It was a nice visit in Texas though. This is the first time our family has had the chance to meet my sissy's Dick. They really liked him, but seriously, what's not to like? Andy cooked supper on Sunday evening and shortly after we headed back home.

Monday we had a little BBQ at our house with a few close friends, went to throw some darts that evening and called it an early night.

Now they are gone and I miss my sissy :-( She's my bestest friend in the whole wide world and I don't get to see her nearly enough. She keeps me laughing the entire time we are together. We are going to Florida to their summer house in July to see them for a week though. This summer we decided to take the two oldest kids, 10 and 15, with us and drive out there. We can make it there in 20 hours and round trip gas money will cost what one plane ticket would cost. My sister will have her two youngest with her, 7 and 19, so it will be a great family vaca for all of us.

I would have pics to post, because my sissy has an awesome camera that I want soooo bad and she won't let me have it, but she left all the memory cards in Texas, and the one she had left in the camera wouldn't read on my stupid laptop. Our mama is mailing the cards to me though, instead of my sissy, because I'd never get the pictures if she mailed them directly to her. I'm still waiting on my pictures from last summer's trip to Florida.

Anyhoodle, I'm back to my normal routine again... I have one more week... hell it's already Wednesday... I only have three days counting today... of kids still in school. Then my world will be filled with 6 kids during the day, and still trying to work through it all.

This weekend we have the kids and then next weekend we are off to Missouri for the outdoor steel tip dart tournie. Can't wait!

I guess I should get back to work if I want to be able to throw darts tonight with Andy, especially since the babies are down for a nap.

Have a wonderful day bloggy peeps!

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Writer's Workshop: 10 Things

Join MamaKat over at Mama's Losin It for the weekly Writer's Workshop.

I chose prompt #3: List 10 things you are currently sick of

This should be easy! LOL

1) Fingerprints. I clean the sliding glass door and 10 minutes later there are million little people hand prints on it. I clean the glass storm door in front, and MY stupid self puts a forehead print on it. Give me a break, it's never been that clean before and I guess I didn't see it when I was trying to look out the front door and down the street for the mailman.

2) My art class. Which is over by the way. That class has been one disaster after another. I think I had the end of semester blues and the itch to play outside. Every assignment I was trying to finish was interrupted with either a kid screaming, an abscess tooth, a filthy house, a paper that I wrote single-spaced instead of double-spaced, a forgotten assignment, a cram session to get my 50 dang art pieces memorized (name, era and artist) or complete exhaustion and falling asleep with my face on the laptop. I woke up in a puddle of drool more than once people. Art is NOT fun!

3) People, their obsession with Adam Lambert on American Idol and not thinking Kris deserved to win. He was the dark horse and a great competitor. I wasn't thrilled with the shriekings of Adam and to be honest, he didn't need to scream EVERY DAMN THING.

4) This dang baby. Baby K is giving me the blues people. Real baby blues! She won't be more than 2 feet away from me without screaming at the top of her lungs. Occasionally, she'll be occupied with a toy, but as soon as she hears my voice or see's me walking through the house, which desperately needs some help, she's back to screaming at me to pick her up. I've tried the 10 minute thing where I let her scream... it doesn't work. I told her mama about it and she said, "You have the disease. She does that to me too!" Well, YOU gave that disease to this baby and I need you to fix it dear mother-of-the-child or I'm going to send you all to another day care. This.Is.Not.Fun!

5) The fridge not being closed. Our fridge is a piece o shit peeps. We bought it when we moved into this house from the apt and thought we got a good deal. It was in a used appliance store, big enough and already had a child lock on it. It was plugged in and cold as ice. Nice! Within a month (mind you, a day after the 30-day warranty period) the door stopped shutting all the way and you have to physically put your body on it to close it, secure the child lock, and pray it doesn't crack open in the middle of the night. The kids don't get this. And the child lock sucks because the 3-year-old has managed to crack the combination and graze through the fridge whenever he so chooses. Stupid fridge.

6) My sick body. For some reason, April and May have been a real challenge for me to stay healthy. I'm down for 3 weeks with a horrible upper respiratory infection, and I think I'm finally over the coughing fit ritual every morning as of today. Then my wrists start acting up. Then I've got an abscess tooth from hell. My back hurts... I think it's all the sweeping. I should not be forced to pick up another broom for the rest of my life, if you ask me. I think my body is telling me to go to Tahiti and take a nice long break, be handed drink after drink by a hot cabana boy named Pedro, and sit by the beach all day long under a fancy umbrella -- where children aren't allowed.

7) Work. I don't think I should have to work. It sucks. At the end of last year things were great... I was minding my own business, making good money and working from home. Right after Christmas we lost a multimillion dollar account and I'm on part-time status. I work when I want, but there really isn't enough work to go full-time. Then, out of nowhere BAM! The doctors are dictating like madmen and my boss flips out, emailing me that I need to be pulling more work. I'm juggling a full load at school, 2 kids during the day plus our 2 kids that aren't in school yet, getting the house prepared for my sister and her Dick to come stay for the weekend... and now I'm supposed to stop everything and work full-time again. Make up my damn mind!

8) Not having enough money when I want it. I know, I know, I'll be working more now and the money will start flowing in again. Andy makes good money folks, and he does a great job supporting our family of 6. I just don't like the feeling that if I want to go out and have a few drinks and throw some darts that I'm on a budget. Or if I want to take the kids to the movies or run away for the weekend, I've got to do my guzintaz (goes-into's, Beverly Hillbillies duh) to make sure there is enough left over to pay the damn water bill. Running water and flushing toilets are over-rated.

9) Getting everyone else's mail. Since we've moved here it's been a fiasco with the USPS. With the change of address that Andy filled out from his former address the USPS apparently felt it was prudent to move their HOUSEHOLD instead of the INDIVIDUAL mail. Plus, the mail from the apartment I was in for 5 years, where my mother also was for a period of time, now has sent her mail FROM TEXAS (don't ask) to our new address. She's a mail shopper, so I'm getting an influx of stupid old lady clothes magazines, and even shipped super big mama bra's that should be going to HER HOUSE.... IN TEXAS! Mind you, Andy loves the fact that we get his nephews ESPN and other sport mags sent to our house. He uses them for bathroom reading prior to sending them to their intended owner.

10) Aunt Flow. (Pardon my raging PMS moment) It seems that EVERY time we plan a road trip I'm on the rag. Check this... we are going to Texas this weekend. Two weeks later we are headed to an outdoor dart tournament with lots of drunks and camping. There is an entire spread of time between these trips that I could rag. No. Doesn't happen. Yesterday, Mother Nature rears her ugly head and today Aunt Flow and I are close, real close. So my hot, steamy, fancy nighty slam-me-against-the-wall-and-take-me-Daddy hotel room adventures with Andy in Texas will be postponed. I hate you Mother Nature. I hate you with a passion. On a positive note, at least I won't be bleeding like a stuck pig while I'm camping. Tent sex is great too; except for the rocks, sand, dirty, stinky sweat (completely different from normal bedroom gettin-it-on kind of sweat) and the balancing act to keep from rolling off the air mattress.

There you have it. My 10 things I'm sick of. Piece of cake. I'm off to finish cleaning up this house and comply with my boss' orders to crank out some work (pffft), all while ignoring 4 kids, unless of course there's blood or a bone that appears to be out of place.

Have a great day folks... and enjoy your weekend!

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Ever Been Attacked by a Lauper Hobbit?

I have. Mix this:
With this:

And you get the broad that attacked me Friday night at the $500 dart tourney.

Shall I start from the beginning?

Let me give you a visual of this bar first. White trailer trash bar with a bunch of redneck men, most of whom are married. Most of these folks are tight-knit and have been coming here for years. This is a second home, and they are protective of their family. It's a Friday night, so that means the dart players are there, and they are in a category all to themselves. There is also karaoke -- drunk karaoke. It's a mess of things going on every Friday night. And occasionally, we get the young crowd that tries to run up in this hole in the wall dive and take things over. They are louder, more obnoxious and hormonal. The drinks are STRONG and CHEAP, so these morons are getting smashed without even knowing it and, 9 times out of 10, end up making complete asses of themselves.

Case in point: Lauper Hobbit vs. Spider Monkey

I'm teamed up with a dude named George. It's a blind draw tournament, so you never know who your partner is going to be, except if you are a female, you know you get a male partner. More men play than females, so there ends up being mostly male/female teams with a few male/male teams.

Anyway... George and I are playing on board 1. This is the dart board that is closest to the pool tables, and another section of the bar. These people, the new ones who don't know dart etiquette (there are rules people!), seem to want to walk up close and personal to those of us throwing for a $500 pot, instead of going around to the other side of the bar. I'm at the line, getting ready to throw and this Lauper Hobbit comes up close enough to stop me from throwing as she is trying to get around to the bar. I stop, take a step back and say, "Can't these people see we are THROWING!"

Lauper Hobbit's first mistake was the stop, look at me and say, "What did you just say?"

At 5'5" I'm no giant, but I had to look down at Lauper Hobbit and tell her politely (hahahaha) that she should go around to the other side to get to the bar because we are in a tournament and she was being rude.

She, obviously in a drunken state of mind, didn't know she was messing with Spider Monkey (a loving nickname given to me by my best guy friend Chris many moons ago when I jumped on the hood of a guys car, after whipping his ass, to again, politely, tell him he wasn't wanted at this bar).

Anyhoo - someone steps in the middle of us and then a friend of hers comes to her side and drags her off to the pool table area again, profusely apologizing drunk Lauper Hobbit's intrusion.

All is good. I'm throwing my darts, having a good time and didn't think twice about the little drunk person.

George is up at the line and I'm leaning on one of the pool tables waiting for my turn. Mind you, this is a double elimination tournament, and we've already lost one match. If we lose this match, we are out of the tournament. WAY too early in the night for me to be out!

Lauper Hobbit's second and final mistake: She comes right up to my face... ok, she's really eye level with my boobs... looks up to me and says "Excuse me" in a sassy tone. I wave for her to move to the side. There's plenty of room to my right for her to get her little body around me and scram. Apparently she didn't think that was a good enough idea. She stands there. Looking up at me. Blood red eyes, jet black dyed hair, a ton of makeup and some fancy getup that only Cyndi Lauper herself would actually look good wearing.

"Go around." I say, without giving her much satisfaction, and look over her head at the dart board.

"What if I don't want to?" she chimes in, like a smartass teenager. This biotch is obviously looking for a fight. Her fists are clenched, jaw is jutted out and she's ready for some action. Stupid girl.

"Well, then you can go that way, " I tell her as I push her backward and out of my face. Now, she's not much taller than my 10-year-old, so I know not to use full force or she'd end up clear across the bar.

This chick goes crazy. She gets knocked back a couple of feet from me pushing her and then she's like a midget-bull in a China shop. I think I could actually see smoke coming from her nostrils and digging her feet into the tile as she literally started charging for me. DONK! I punch her in the face (it was more like she ran into my fist though, after all, she was charging at me) one good time before Phillip (a 50-something previous owner of the bar, husband to the bartender that night and friend of mine), grabs a hold of the mighty midget and begins to wrestle her to the ground. Her arms are flying everywhere! She's desperately reaching for me! So I reach out to her, and tag her again in the head. I may have gotten one more punch in before Phillip flattens her little body on the ground.

Next thing I know, she's out the door. After all is said and done I see Andy wearing a shit-eatin grin when he tells me, "I knew she was fixing to get tagged when she stepped up to you like that. I just sat back and watched."

White Trailer Trash/Redneck Bar Fight Scoreboard for May 8, 2009
Spider Monkey: 1
Lauper Hobbit: 0

Ok ok, I know. Some may say I'm too old to be punching broads in the head. Other may say I'm too old for bar fights. Not to mention I'm a mommy. But yanno what, I'm also a person. A person that doesn't take shit. Real talk. And I'll be damned if I'm going to get hit first. It's just a rule I have. I especially don't like getting hit in the face. That broad was definitely going to pull something, I just beat her to the "punch".





Sunday, May 17, 2009

Quick Update - I'm Alive

So I haven't posted in over a week.

Admittedly, I took a mental hiatus at first, simply because everything that was happening in my life, my mind immediately went to the thought of how I could turn that into a blog. Blah. I couldn't have a moment without obsessing over blogging. So I started out taking just a couple days off bloggyland and was going to come back and post something sappy for Mommy's Day. Didn't make it.

By Monday morning I realized I had a crapload of homework for my Wednesday Intro to Art class to get done. So I spent the next three days working on that. I was the hero in class because I gave all the students a link to my flashcards online that I created. They are all instructed to bring me Starbucks next Wednesday.

Thursday... I have no idea what I did.

By Friday I had a toothache so bad I went to the ER. I type these reports, as a transcriptionist, and actually made fun of folks who went to the ER for dental pain. Seems like only drug seekers would do such a thing. Certainly not moi! Well, by Friday evening, when my face looked like I had a golf ball stuck in my cheek and I thought childbirth was a piece of cake compared to this type of pain, I reluctantly decided to check out the scenery at my local ER. The doctor who saw me (a doctor that I've typed many a ER report for, and his face looked nothing like his voice) said there was nothing he could drain, but sent me home with a nice supply of pain medication and an antibiotic. Since that moment I've been in a drug-induced coma.

Anyhoodle - I'm alive and well again...

But...

My Wednesday class, the last one for the semester (YAY!) is approaching again and I've got to get a powerpoint presentation together and study for my final. Then Thursday my sissy will be here from Cali with her Dick. We are going to Texas for the weekend to hang out with our mom and gma in Mayberry, a dinky town with a plethora of old folks and only one bar, which you have to be a member of to enter. Believe me when I type... I'm a cardholding member. We'll be back in OKC Sunday evening for a dart tourney, BBQ at my house on Monday for Memorial Day, and then my sissy and her Dick leave Tuesday.

So I probably won't be around much until next week. Looking forward to getting caught up on blogs and stalking blogs again. Until then...

Friday, May 8, 2009

Happy Friday! Darts, anyone?

Happy Friday bloggyland peeps! And happy early Mother's Day.

Andy and I will be partying at the trailer trash bar tonight and throwing darts. Another $500 tourney! Woot woot! So basically, we will pay $10 each to enter, $1 each for the mystery out, who the hell knows how much we'll spend on alcohol, and then we'll pray we get a partner that can hang in there til the end. By the time it's over with, we'll have spent well over $100 and the prize money, IF one of us hits first place, is just over $100 per person. I rarely win, mostly because my drunk darts don't hit exactly where I need them to, but Andy usually stays in there for the long-haul and brings home at least some of the bacon. Plus we really need to practice. My sissy and her Dick (big dart nerds who win lots of money all the damn time) and we can't let them put us to shame. We.just.cant!

I'm brain dead today... so I'm going to steal a post from Ruggy and use it here. Feel free to play along.

I Am: desperate for a friggin beer!

I Want: to win the big money tonight!

I Have: limited dart skills after I hit the alcohol plateau.

I Wish: my sissy was already here.

I Fear: flying stingin things!

I Search: for anything and everything on Google. Such a Google-whore.

I Regret: not finishing my education way earlier in life. Studying is for the birds!

I Love: my precious family. They make me so happy!

I Always: wait until the last minute to get everything done.

I Usually: karaoke when I'm drunk.

I Am Not: as young as I used to be. I looked at my face in the mirror last night, while attempting to pluck eyebrows and nearly pinched my eyelid completely off, and realized that my face looks old. Ick.

I Dance: naked in the house when nobody is here.

I Sing: all the time!

I Never: have enough time or money.

I Rarely: finish my homework more than an hour before class.

I Cry: every single flippin time I watch Extreme Home Makeover. Ugh!

I Am Not Always: a leader. Sometimes I like to take the backseat and just ride (figuratively speaking of course, I never like to actually sit in the backseat and ride).

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

American Idol and Andy's Philosophy

Two things today. They aren't connected. He doesn't have a philosophy on American Idol, other than thinking Adam really didn't make it into the bottom three last week and that stunt was just pulled for ratings. Pffft, he did so. I saw him. In the bottom three. With my own eyes! And that leaves Danny as the only one who hasn't been in the bottom three, at least until tonight.

American Idol recap -

I liked the duet thingy they did last night. But does that mean that AI just can't find any musical rock celebrities to perform that they have to make the contestants do duets? In any event, I was passed out on the couch when I heard Adam screaming his song and woke up. I caught the tail end of it. I'm sure it was amazing and the world ooh'd and ahh'd over his performance, but I'm still not going to go back and watch it. I get it. He's good. He's fantastic. He's a natural.

Allison. Poor Allison. I thought she was really going to rock the house last night. Joplin is definitely the artist choice for her, but the song choice wasn't hot. I still love her and I think she has come so very far in her time on AI. Raw talent. And I love that her new hair seems to have given her more confidence.

Kris. I love that face distortion he makes when he sings, his jaw moved completely over to the right side of his face. I'm so glad he got it back. I think Danny or someone really made fun of him for doing that, but it's his trademark, just like Adam wears more makeup than all the women in my family combined... it's him. It's what he does. I don't think he did so hot last night and he'll probably be the one going home tonight. But I adore that sexy, sweet face of his, that great voice of his and I know he'll do great things with his career.

Danny. I heart him. He's got that gruff sexy voice that gives me chills when he sings. That last note wasn't a great one, but I think the duet with him and Kris will keep him in the game. Guess we'll find out if going outside the box helped him or put him out of the game tonight.

As a side note... last week when Danny and Allison had their little food fight... am I the only one who thought they were really friendly? Maybe I just have a sick and twisted mind, but Danny has got to be super lonely, still mourning the death of his wife, and Allison, a hot girl with a mad voice, and the ONLY female in that house??? I realize she's only 17 and he's a grown man, but c'mon, there was something more than just a food fight going on there.

Now for Andy's Philosophy... I'm getting a bit serious here. Watch out.

I mentioned Andy's idea that most people are bad investments here, and therefore he cannot be friends with them. That was a bit harsh so I thought I'd ellaborate on this philosophy of his.

Andy thinks of people/potential friends as investments, in a very analytical type of way. He thinks that if a potential friend sucks more life out of you than they give you, they are bad investments. He believes that if people bring drama to your life, they aren't worthy of your friendship. It's very cut and dry here. If he meet someone who seems nice on the outside, but their life is in turmoil and all they do is "need", he will not waste his precious time on them. Don't get me wrong, he won't be disrespectful or tell that person what a loser they are (unless they ask for his advice and then certainly he will be very blunt); he just won't allow that person in his circle. Think about it. You invest time, money and emotional ties with friends. If they don't reciprocate in a positive manner, and your initial investment is used up with nothing to show for it, how can they be deemed a good investment?

My philosophy on friends is way different. I have friends from all walks of life. I'm not a people person really, but I find life interesting, and everyone has their ups and downs. I wasn't going to judge these people because their lives were different than mine, and they didn't judge me. I was the "mama" figure to most of them and when something horrible would happen they would flock to my door. I thought I needed them as much as they needed me. Then Andy came along and showed me exactly how some of these people were sucking the life out of me and I was allowing them to hold me back. I was constantly surrounded by gossip and who is doing what and with whom, so much so that I was forgetting all about the greatness my own life could hold.

Andy's philosophy started to make sense to me, but I wasn't ready to fully commit to that idea.

One particular friend of mine hit rock bottom and needed a place to stay. To sum it up, she was a very close friend, I offered our home without speaking to Andy first, he just warned me that this decision would bite me in the ass. It did. Hard. She once was very productive and had all her ducks in a row. I just thought she just needed someone to believe in her... no job, no car, no place to stay, completely boy crazy, and very few friends who would put up with her. I, being the rescuer and humanitarian, thought I could fix her. At first, it was working out fine. I was training her to do transcription, she was helping me with the kids during the day, sending out resumes and going on job interviews. Then she broke the rules. She went to darts one night, in my car, and by the time Andy got up for work the next morning, my car wasn't home. This turned into a huge fiasco. Andy called a friend (at 5:30 am) who called another friend who tracked her down. By 6:30 we found out she apparently drank too much and in her hormonal, drunken, needy, state of mind she went over to a dude's house and stayed the night. I tripped out on her. Not only was my man, the one who is paying the bills in the house that she is currently living in, late for work, but she had the carseats for Monkey Boy and Baby Love in my car. Needless to say, I was livid. Forced to keep my cool because the kids were there, I ushered my friend in the house and sent my man and the kids on their way, 30 minutes late.

In my life prior to Andy, I would have just thanked my lucky stars that she didn't drive my car while drunk and that she was okay. I never would have seen the predicament that she caused for my family. I would have been pissed, but I would have calmed down much faster and been able to deal with her. This time her stunt was different. And believe me, there have been some stupid stunts in the past, but nothing of this magnitude that directly involved me.

I had to put my big girl panties on and make a decision. Andy said he would handle it for me and talk to my friend (and by talk he meant put her out). As much as I wanted him to be the bad guy in this one, I decided it was my responsibility since I was the one who offered her a place to stay. I sat her down and told her... "Bottom line, you've got to find somewhere else to live." She cried, apologized, cried some more and asked, "Will you still be my friend?" Of course I would. I didn't hate her. I just knew, at that moment, she was a bad investment.

I love this girl. We have been there for each other through thick and thin for years now, and it's hard to distance yourself from people you care about. But Andy is right. He's got his head on straight about investments and friends. When they begin to cause turmoil in your backyard, it's time to cut the ties. It took me a while to wrap my head around this philosophy of his, but after I did, I was amazed at how drama-free, calm and happy my life was turning out to be. I pushed this friend out of my backyard and handed her off to her family. I still love her very much. She hit rock bottom shortly after that incident and has since started rebuilding her life. She's got a long road ahead of her, but I'm so proud of her. We talk, occasionally. We see each other, occasionally. But I definitely am still guarded regarding how close I can be to her.

People are all different. But ultimately, we are the ones who make the final decisions on who and what we allow in our lives, how close we allow them to get, and how much control of our lives we allow them to have. I was never really surrounded by a close family growing up. My family caused pain, therefore, my needs for connection with people were filled with friends, pre-Andy. Now, my need to be needed is filled by Andy and the kids. My family needs me. And my friends/associates/investments are kept at a safe distance. I still make time for my friends, love and cherish them all, but they definitely take a back burner to my family now. It's a great feeling.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

RTT: Sims 2, One Missed Call & Projectile Vomit

randomtuesday



Random Tuesday Thoughts - yanno, this is my favorite part of the week, as far as blogging goes. I get to ramble on about nothing really, and people pretend (my fantastic 23 followers) to show interest... And some even comment! It does wonders for the stuckinthehousealldayandallnight EGO and I'm perfectly comfortable rambling. It's a "forte" of mine. (Gettin all fancy on ya, bet you didn't see that one coming!)



I'm going to admit that I've been keeping a RTT note pad. Ok, it's not really a notepad per say, but I do scribble notes and jot down thoughts on the back of an envelope. Hell, I have a slew of blog envelopes, one for each day of the week. I've decided to pick a new bill for each day of each week to draw all over and scribble on. Makes me feel better about paying the bill that's inside in some sort of way. Plus, this way I've always got fresh ideas. These are pretty much in chronological order, as they really happened, because you won't find any lies and false shit here folks. Because that's.how.I.roll.





Last week Andy, feeling sorry for me because I couldn't seem to get rid of that hacking, nagging cough, brought me home a surprise. Colloidal Silver Classic. He tells me to take a teaspoon of this liquid metal and put it under my tongue for 1 minute, then swallow. I'm not sure if it was mind over matter or what, but the next morning I felt FANTASTIC! I was even in a good mood, and mornings and I usually don't get along very well. Andy of course thought it would be a neat experiment... I would have to bow down to his feet because HE brought me the two week long lougie-hacking remedy, not to mention he thought I'd be shittin' nickles. He only wanted his initial $21 investment back for the tiny 4 oz bottle. I completely understand.




I'm back to work right? Kinda. Well, I'm part-time, mostly because the great doctors at one of our local ER's (the one where I once made sooooo much money it hurt people's feelings) figured out that instead of spending hundreds of thousands of dollars a year on a transcription service, they could just invest in a point-and-click piece of shit software and completely ruin my life. So now I'm stuck doing stupid discharge summaries and transplant institute reports. Bleh! Anyway... I got my first paycheck since I had been back and it was a measly $200. WTF man! I think I got ripped off or something. Surely the account lady screwed up. Surely.


Andy occasionally looks at my blog at work, on lunch of course, because he wouldn't want folks to think that their hard earned tax dollars are going to a plethora of bookmarked pages for his enjoyment. He looked at one entry I made last week and tried to be sneaky and comment. Bahahahahahaha, it didn't take because he is not a blogger. I told him you have to have special woman powers and go through an excruciatingly painful interview by a panel of Xanax-free, hormonal women to be able to post. Then I added him as an author to this blog. Warning: Watch out for random Andy thoughts. He might sneak in here.


This weekend, I think it was Sunday evening, Andy and I were sitting in front of the boob tube and watched One Missed Call. It's supposed to be a scary movie, but it's pretty stupid. Basically, someone dies and right after they die, a "contact" of theirs from their cell phone is called from a future date and leaves a scary message, indicating their death is next. Right in the middle of the movie, and the futuristic death calls, my cell phone goes off. It's a text. Needless to say, we were a bit freaked out. AND it just happens to be one of my life long best friends, who Andy isn't that fond of. I should be dead by 7 pm today, according to the storyline.

I'm not sure if many of you are "blended families" or not. Yanno, step kids kind of blended. We are. And every time the oldest, my bio kid, the 15 y/o, goes to her dad's for the weekend and I have to endure the 2-hour long convo about how she hates her step-mom upon her return. She doesn't really hate her. She just listens to her older sisters over there bitch about her, so naturally, she thinks the step-mom is evil. I try to even the playing field and stand up for the step-mom, even though I'm secretly laughing inside... because I'm better... at everything... but for the sake of argument (with bio-dad) and respect for their household (pfffft, as if), I do what I can. One thing I'm particularly happy about is that she (the step-mom) can't cook. The 15y/o, Nisha, hates her step-mom's cooking. I love it when she comes home and tells me how horrible her food is. But this weekend was different. Nisha comes home and tells me she had the most fantastic salad ever. "It was the best salad of my life mama!" Ex-ca-use ME! Biting back my sharp tongue and cynical look, I listened and smiled. "She puts strawberries in her salads mama!" Whatever. Sounds gross to me. And my salads are WAY BETTER!



I'm completely addicted to Sims 2. If you don't know anything about it, don't look it up. It's dangerous. I played that game from 2 pm yesterday until 2 am. TWELVE FREAKIN HOURS! I declared it a left-over night and never stepped away from the laptop screen (except for the 30 second bathroom trips). In any event, I managed to virtually kill Andy and I (because I created us as characters). We started out with no kids, he knocked me up twice and we raised them. Then all of a sudden, out of no where, I can't get us to get out of bed. We aren't doing naughty things in there either. Sickos! We are just sleeping. And we can't get up. Nothing I click on works. I think my Sim actually pee'd the bed. I killed us. So then Nisha wanted to play and I helped her create a Sim. Because she's just a beginner, she did it all wrong, and now all her Sim wants to do is make babies. Ack! I'm teaching the kid, the hormonal teenager, how to MAKE BABIES! Anyway... at 2 am, everyone in our REAL house is asleep (at least I thought they were) Andy comes down the hall, takes one look at me all snuggled up on the couch, eyes beet red and plastered to that screen and says, "Ok, you are officially a loser." Sims 3 comes out in June. I need rehab.

And finally, yanno how when a kid pukes sometimes it just flies out of their mouth and ends up 4 feet away. I always wondered how that happened. Like, what mechanism in their throat and mouth causes them to shoot puke that far away. I was awestruck. Until today. I'm minding my own business in the kitchen, getting Big K some apple juice, and having a normal morning. I have another one of those damn coughing fits and all of a sudden, out of flipping no where, I hurl! And not just puke a little bit in my mouth kind of hurl, where I can cover my mouth and charge to the bathroom toilet before spewing. This was pro-jec-tile! I turned my head just in time for the monsoon of Pepsi to come rushing out of my throat! It hit the back of my top teeth, which somehow guided it right into the kitchen trash can. It was like when you turn on the faucet and magically a steady flow of water comes flying out. Let me tell you, there is no wretching and body curling like with normal puke. This was just a steady, even flow of regurg-Pepsi. Like at the fountain drink station at 7-Eleven. Totally gross. All I could do was stand there for a few seconds to process. I.just.puked.a.tsunami. Then of course I took out the trash and headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Yuck! On the positive side, there was no acid taste, like something was eating the enamel right off my teeth.

Ok, your turn. Go on over to Keely's at The UnMom, snag the button, hook up with Mr. Linky and post your RTT. I'll be back later to make sure you have done it.

And NO... I'm not going to play Sims. I'm doing homework. Nosey.

Monday, May 4, 2009

Husband Meme

I jacked this from The Mom Jen at Cheaper Than Therapy who jacked it from Georgie at Decisionally Challenged (currently on hiatus, boooo!)

In an effort to try and keep this one short, I've included both mine and Andy's answers together. I emailed him at work and we answered them at the same time.

**Being that we aren't married YET, I've changed the term "husband" to reflect his name. (Don't be offended honey, because I know you stalk my blog during lunch at work, I can't wait to refer to you as my husband.)


1. What is something your husband Andy always says to you?
me: I love you
Andy: I love you

2. What makes your husband Andy happy?
Me: Spending time with the kids, camping, hunting, fishing, anything outdoors. And when we wrestle. That always makes him happy. And he's not afraid to cuddle afterward. Be jealous ladies. Be.Very.Jealous.
Andy: Spending time with family/outdoors

3. What makes your husband Andy sad?
Me: Duh! When I'm not happy. He's truly a worry wart. And I tend to make everyone else around me miserable when I'm not happy. It's a right that every woman gets, don't you think? We bleed like stuck pigs once a month and have to "plug" our innerds, push 10-lb watermelons from our loins and then get the pleasure of making sure their every need is taken care of for 18+ years. It's a God given right that we can make other people miserable!
Andy: when Denise is not happy

4. What was your husband Andy like as a teen?
Me: Pffft, his mama and baby sisters tell me what a whore he was, but I wasn't there. I'm sure he'll say he was athletic or really nice or something.
Andy: Way out going young man

5. How old is your husband Andy ?
Me: 33 - a year and a half younger than me. And he tells me about it on an almost daily basis.
Andy: 33

6. How tall is your husband Andy ?
Me: 6 foot, and he loves it that I have to look UP to him, even when I'm on my tippy-toes.
Andy: 6 foot

7. What is his favorite thing to do?
Me: All out-doorsy crap AND "wrestling". He loves to wrestle.
Andy: Hunting/fishing, playing softball

8. What does your hubby Andy do when you're not around?
Me: He's like a little lost puppy when I'm not there. Wandering around aimlessly, cleaning things, doing laundry... pffffffffffffft or has his head so far up ESPN that he doesn't even realize I'm gone.
Andy: wonders when Denise will get home/cleans

9. If your husband Andy becomes famous, what will it be for?
Me: He thinks he's funny, so I'm sure he's thinking comedian, but he'd really be famous for his cooking or sewing ability, like Martha Stewart, or being in some political office making laws and forcing people to obey him them.
Andy: Comic or business man

10. What is your husband Andy really good at?
Me: "Wrestling". That's code for um... you know... gettin' busy, doin the humpty dance, gettin your freak on, makin' whoopie, gettin' laid -- need I go on?
Andy: ask Denise she'll tell you :)

11. What is your husband Andy not very good at?
Me: Being nice to strangers/random bar people/people who touch him inadvertently. He also doesn't like doing things with friends. He's got this idea that most people are bad investments, therefore they cannot be friends. I'll have to ellaborate on that one later.
Andy: staying calm or quiet when I have had one too many

12. What does your husband Andy do for a job?
Me: Um, he does something for the State and gets a really nice check and really good benefits and just got a promo where he gets his own office to do something secretive and fight fraud and identity theft, I think. That's all I know.
Andy: State Job (I love how he gets all wordy and technical LOL)

13. What is your husband Andy's favorite food?
Me: Raw red meat. Steaks that are still moo'ing. Yuck!
Andy: Steak or Denise's spaghetti

14. What makes you proud of your husband Andy?
Me: He's a great father, role model, husband-to-be, great morals and values... just an all around fantastic guy!
Andy: The way I handle situations


15. If your husband Andy were a cartoon character, who would he be?
Me: He's my Superman. He's faster than a speeding bullet and ALWAYS there when I need him. He could lift a car with a pinky if it meant saving me or the kids from being hurt. Superman IS a cartoon character right? Ok, maybe a little like Papa Smurf too. He's got an old soul and always seems much more wise than most people I know, calm, secure, and people flock to him for advice... and actually listen to what he says.
Andy: Hercules there's nothing I can't handle

Friday, May 1, 2009

Hi! I'm Denise, the Grocery Store Grump!

**Disclaimer - this post is long as hell, but in my defense, I'm only trying to avoid putting away the groceries. Surely you can feel my pain. But it's funny too, I mean if you have kids, you'll completely understand my new found desire to hire a babysitter for me, the babysitter, while I'm at the grocery store.


Hi! I'm Denise, the Grocery Store Grump!


Yanno, grocery shopping isn't hard when it's just Andy and me. We usually end up getting stalked by some random old lady because were are just.that.damn.cute.

Taking the Baby K and Big K to the grocery store is a completely different story. Baby K throws a 10-minute fit when I place her in the front of the buggy, squirming, kicking, screaming and even producing real tears. Big K wanders off everywhere and I'm chasing her, constantly reminding her that her hand needs to be on the buggy at all times.

Then there's the endless conversation all the way through the store:

"Denise, do we have these at home? What are these? Can we borrow these? Buy, I mean buy, can we buy these. I want salad. Do we have salad at home? You said I get Dora fruity snacks. Where are the Dora fruity snacks? Did you remember we don't have any chocolate milk too? I like chocolate milk. And Dora fruity snacks. What's this? Can I have a plastic bag? I like plastic bags. Can we put meat in the plastic bag again? I like putting meat in there. That's fun. I like pickles too but I don't like pickles. Can we borrow some pickles? I mean, buy. Denise, when do we get to go to McDonald's? You said we could go to McDonald's and get chicken nuggets and french fries at McDonald's when we were done. Denise, will my mom be here in 2 minutes? What are these? Can we borrow... er, buy these? I want some yogret too. I like yogret, but only the Dora kind. I don't like that other kind like we had last time. Look at that little gril. She's got shoes like me. We both have little gril shoes. Not boy shoes. Boys eat bugs. Isn't that right Denise? Boys eat bugs and girls eat candy, right? Can I have some candy Denise? And some Dora fruity snacks?"

Finally, we get to the checkout, after of course the world has oooh'd and ahhh'd the precious kids I've ventured into the public world with. I'm always asked "oh how precious, how old are they?" and I usually respond with a blank look and "I don't know, they aren't mine," which causes all kinds of stares and maybe even secret phone calls the local police department. I've learned that it's much easier to say, "10 months and 3" and continue pushing my buggy.

I realize a lot of moms out there might like to stop and gab to complete strangers about how the growing process is just moving right along, how Sally Jane has pushed 2 new pearly whites through her gums and how Nancy June is the smartest kid in the universe...

But there are also those of us in there, *a-hem* ME, rushing through the store tossing things in the buggy because I've only got a 2 hour window before the precious teething 10 month old, cranky Baby K, is going to blow me a big, fat, runny, mud-kiss through her diaper and the smell isn't going to be pleasant for ANYONE. I've also only got one shred of patience left for Big K, the 3 year old, who is driving me up the wall touching everything in the store, trying to sneak stuff in the buggy, and standing in the middle of each and every aisle trying to poke a hole in the damn plastic bag she got from the produce section, all the while blocking traffic of the other shoppers who desperately want to get by her as fast as they can because someone else is going to beat them to the 2/$1 sale on canned green beans.

Of course I've got to have help getting out to the car because now I've got two buggies filled with groceries (I've never understood how I start with one and after it's bagged it takes up TWO) and two kids in tow. Do they send me out with some young, energetic kid? Hell to the nawl! They send me out with this 90-year-old, broke down, slow as molasses man saying "Lead the way" and I'm just thinking, "Yeah, try and keep up with me gramps!" He was super nice, but slowwwwww! C'mon skipper... any minute now Baby K's butt will explode and I do not want to smell that all the way home!

And woah, the race against time doesn't stop there folks. Then we've got to get to McDamnDonald's and beat the lunch rush to get that kids meal with blazing hot french fries so I've got to hear Big K yapping all the way home about how she really likes fries and they are really too hot and she likes chicken nuggets too but they are probably hot too and did you get me a drink Denise? because I'm super thirsty and I want chocolate milk did you get me chocolate milk from McDonald's? My mama does. Are the fries cooled off yet because I'm super hungry Denise...

We get home. I get the kids out of the car, sit Big K down on the couch with her happy meal b/c I'm going to need the entire kitchen table and all the counters for the shitload of groceries I just bought, get the baby changed, get the groceries in the house, sit down to feed the screaming baby her lunch, plug her with a bottle, set her in the playpen, move my quarter pounder and drink to the quad room where I think I'm going to get to enjoy it, far, far away from the kids... when Big K insists we listen to this stupid CD that was the "toy" in the happy meal.

We listen to the entire CD twice, singing along and dancing in the livingroom, I get her laid down for naptime and go back to the quad room with my food only to realize I'm too pooped to even eat. I want a nap. I don't even care that the fish sticks are melting away and the hamburger meat is probably bleeding through the paper sack. I just want to lay down and pass out. Like a power nap. Yanno, the 20 minute kind where you get up feeling all refreshed and ready to tackle the world again?

And I'm just the babysitter folks! I'll ship these guys off with their mommy at 530ish only to receive 4 more when Andy gets home... and the saga continues.

Even through the exhaustion and the serious lack of patience being one of my virtues, these napless, teething, screaming, kicking, yelling, ankle biting little people are the bestest in the whole wide world. And our four, ranging from 3 to 15, are my pride and joy! I love them with all my heart and soul, and wouldn't trade lives with anyone even if I could.

I'm off to put away the mini-grocery store in my kitchen and hopefully get 20 minutes of power-nap before they scream again. Happy Friday!

Friday High Five

Happy Friday folks! It's early and I've got a big to-do list again, mostly because I suck and didn't get yesterdays list done, but I'm determined to get started early today. Here are the five things on my mind at this very moment:

  • Sims 2. So I'm minding my own business last night, playing Sims. I've created Andy and I with no kids. Neither one of us have jobs and we are independently wealthy (mostly because I know cheat codes so I get $50K by merely pressing a key stroke combo). So in the afternoon, while the kids are entertaining themselves of course, I'm decorating our new house. Putting in plush white carpet and beautiful art on the walls. Adding in every top of the line stainless steel kitchen appliance, a big fancy flat screen that hangs on the wall, a big ole game room with a pin-ball machine, dart board, chess table. I've even installed a pool in our backyard. The house is amazing! I get started on actually playing the game. Almost immediately Andy knocks me up and I'm waddling around the house like a fat cat only interested in peeing, eating and sleeping. Good thing I don't have a job. I give birth to what I think is a girl, we name her Kara Michelle (Andy picked the name) and then winter hits. I'm carrying around this baby and then a message pops up "Kara Michelle is freezing. You better keep her warm before the social worker shows up!" It's then I realize I didn't put a roof or any ceilings on our beautiful 3-story home. And because the house is already built, I'd have to tear it down and start all over to get the ceilings in there. This took me HOURS to build! So we moved.
  • It's grocery store time. I hate... despite... loathe going to the store on the first of the month. To avoid the crowd I'm packing up the kids and heading out as soon as I'm done with this post. There is now way we would make it through the weekend with no food if I didn't go today. Nisha is going to her dad's for the weekend, but we get DD, Baby Love and Monkey Boy, along with their cousin, this weekend. It's going to be a mad house around here mostly because the yard is muddy and it's supposed to rain all weekend, so I can't just put them all in jeans and throw them out the door. Mother Nature hates me.
  • Holy shit it's MAY! It seems like just yesterday it was the beginning of April when I got my sister's flight info for when she would be here in May.... and I wrote up the list of crap I needed to get done before she gets here. HAY-SUESS! (That's how we say Jesus around these parts, so we don't offend, of course.) I haven't accomplished anything on that list. In fact I don't even know where it is. On the back of a bill's envelope I'm sure, but WHICH bill is the real question. My garage is still a pit, I haven't waxed the floors, there are about 4 pictures up on the walls in the entire house (excluding the kitchen because that's my favorite room and it was the first, and only, room that was finished a week after we moved in), my seedlings are still sitting on the back patio waiting to be planted in the garden beds, my quad room (laundry room/office/den/dart room) is a complete mess, and I've got about 25 days to get this place ship shape. On a good note, I get a present this month. It IS Mother's Day month right?
  • Is it just me or what? Am I the only anal retentive person that thinks it's rude and disrespectful for a service technician to park in my driveway? They are here to perform a service, they don't live here. So don't be pulling up in my driveway like this is YOUR home. That irritates me to no end. I had the phone guy come out yesterday to fix my land line because my cell phone bill is $265 AGAIN because we needed a home phone and that moron just whipped into my driveway like he was coming home for lunch or something. Grrr! And to top it off, he wasn't nice. He wasn't rude either, but he wasn't nice. Very curt and to the point. No additional information was given and I had to ask a million questions just to get him to tell me what the hell the problem was with my phone line. And his answer was, "Cox converter, sign here." That's it. Go park in someone else's driveway you zit faced geek!
  • This morning I get dressed, like usual, in the quad room (because I've boycotted doing laundry and all of my clothes are now in the dungeon) and come into the living room, where Andy is ready for work, feet perched up on the coffee table, enjoying whatever is on HBO, and ask him to fix my bra. I've got one arm out of my t-shirt and my hair is all tangled in my bra strap. I just wanted him to fix the flipped over strap. Easy task. He's fumbling around back there for what seemed like an eternity, cold ass hands all over my shoulder and back, and he finally says "THERE! I did it!" and then proceeds to pull the strap all tight, because I guess it looked like it needed to be flipped AND adjusted. Now I'm walking around with one boob at chin level while the other is sitting over there all comfortable and laughing. Thanks Andy. Thanks.A.Bunch.

So that sums up my High Five Friday! The highlights of my morning, and what looks to be the beginning of another adventurous day. I'm off to the God-forsaken grocery store on the first of the month. If you all don't hear back from me by mid-afternoon, call the President. Seriously.