Monday Minutes

Just a recap of the last few days:

Thursday after Nisha, the 15 y/o, comes home from school she tells me she's gay. I guess she was looking for a shock-face from me, but didn't get one. My reply, "As long as you're happy." Then she changes her mind. She decides she's got a girlfriend, but she's also too boy crazy to be gay, so she's going to be bi. "As long as you are happy baby girl." I let it go. She followed me around the house telling me more about this new girlfriend of hers and I just listened.

Friday I tried my hand at canning. That's right... I canned. I made some applesauce (cuz nothing beats homemade applesauce) and canned it. It worked! Ahhh, the simple pleasures lol. Nisha was away at a vocal competition all day and they took 2nd place! Go girl! Then after school Nisha tells me she's being ridiculed for being gay. She looked so sad. Then she tells me it was just a joke and she's not really gay, but she certainly didn't like the way kids were being so mean about it. "As long as your happy baby girl, but now you see it's not so nice to poke fun about something so serious huh?" She agreed.

Friday night Andy and I go out for the dart tournament and a drama filled night at the bar. Ugh. Two of our friends had birthdays coming up, so that was the designated night to par-tay! All was good for most of the night until everyone who boycotted our home bar because one of the birthday girls (who happened to be a bartender there) was 86'd and fired the night before wanted to show up at that bar. Why? What was the point? "Hey, we are boycotting your bar but we are going to act like a bunch of heathens and show up here just to prove a point." Ridiculous. Andy and I left right after we got there. Got us some drunk burgers from Mickey D's and passed out at home.

Saturday we did the Easter egg hunt at his mom's with the rest of the fam because of the 100% chance of rain on Sunday. Nisha rode with us and Andy's ex-wife dropped off the rest of our crew (Oh I've got story about that fiasco, but I'll save it for another time lol). Good times! I love hanging out with his family. They are really some good people. That evening a bunch of us were going to meet up at one of the nephew's houses for some drinks and fun, but my old ass was too hung over from the night before... Man I remember the days when I could party the entire weekend... So long 20's, I'm an old broad now.

Sunday we took Nisha too her dad's so she could go to church with his family. Her dad was out of town (what moron schedules a couple's retreat on Easter weekend?!?!?!) but her older sister called and asked that we bring Nisha out there and she'd bring her home. I thought that was a really nice gesture. Nisha sometimes feels left out of their lives and I know it made her feel all warm and fuzzy... especially since her own daddy didn't even call to say Happy Easter! Sense some animosity? Perhaps.

Andy and I spent a lazy day on the couch watching Big Love and eating snackies. I really enjoy my lazy days with him, especially when I get him all to myself. I love having all the kids together and I love being a mommy, but our alone time is precious to me too. It's an odd feeling to me. In past relationships I would have felt smothered, but with Andy I can't get enough. I'd rather be curled up next to him on the couch than out and about. It's a great feeling. A really great feeling.

And today... I've got work until noon, homework until 5 and then class tonight. Somewhere in there I'll get supper started so we can eat before I head to class. This is the 4th of 5 weeks of Intro to Holocaust. Tonight Nisha and Andy will do their ritual bonding time while I'm away. I love that they have quality time too. Nisha really loves him to pieces, and I know he feels the same about her.

So I guess I should get busy with my day huh?

Thrift Stores and the Stinky Lady

I guess I'm on a roll today with the "shit" stories. But while I was stalking other blogs, this funny memory from this weekend popped in my head.

Ever been driving down the street and something funny happen and you want to write yourself a note so you can remember to blog about it? That happened ALL WEEKEND LONG! Andy kept me laughing the whole weekend, only I didn't write anything down, because he'd think I was nutzo about this blog thing and so now I have nothing to blog about... Except shit.

Ok ok, back to the story.

So we had three of the four kids this weekend (the oldest was with her bio-dad, and by bio I mean that shithead rarely goes out of his way for this kid unless he gets a phone call with my foot coming straight out of the receiver aiming for his tail-end, and sometimes that doesn't even work so I call his wife and tell on him :D).

Anyhoo - we like to meander through thrift stores. I admit it, I'm a thrift store junkie. Now I'm not the old lady buying undies and fancy dresses for a buck, but I will get the kids play clothes, books (because I have time to read LOL), and occasionally I'll find some neat Nascar stuff for Andy. We just browse through there really and if anything hits home for us, we'll get it. The kids have a ball. I love that our kids don't care that we are in a thrift store and not Macy's buying $85 jeans for them to rip to shreds or grow out of in a week.

Jeeze - get to the story lady!

So the tween is trying on some shorts. She's in an odd size right now, so we just pick up what looks like will fit and have her try them on. Next to the ONE AND ONLY dressing room in this joint is the wall of books. I'm in book heaven! Well, on the other end of the book wall there is a lady, also seeing the jackpot of reading material, browsing through each and every book, moving her finger along as she reads title outloud. I'm not sure if she was just practicing reading aloud, or if this was a normal process for her... either way it was distracting to me and I couldn't focus on what the hell I was doing.

A few minutes into her title search, we met in the middle of the book wall and had to switch sides with each other. She moved in front of me and politely said "Excuse me." I backed up, but apparently not far enough. This woman smelled like pure D poop! I thought at first, maybe she farted and the smell would go away. Hell to the nawl... that smell had some hang time baby! It was rank, disgusting and I'm not sure exactly how she could stand the smell of herself. Ewwwww! And THEN, this lady squats down so she could read aloud all of the book titles on the bottom shelf! Oh-my-God lady! So just squish all the jam you got in your chonies all around will ya! Gag! I just threw up in my mouth a little thinking about this story.

So I gracefully move to the END of the wall-o-books, out of the nasal-scope of stinky lady. My beloved, sweet, charming Andy walks up and looks at a few books. I step away because I know in my heart of hearts, this man that I love so dearly, is going to say something outloud and my face will turn 10 shades of red, embarrassing for both the stinky lady and myself.

The tween comes out of the dressing room and goes to her dad's side.

Andy: PEW! Tween, did YOU do THAT?!?!?!?! (he's a grown man ya'll, and NOT a quiet one at ALL!)

Tween: Ewww! Gross daddy! That wasn't ME!

I turned and headed for the register, trying to hide from my family. I can't imagine the look on stinky lady's face, or why she stunk to high heaven and thought it would be cool to hang out at the thrift store.

Come out, come out, wherever you are....

I'm in the kitchen this morning scrounging around for something to snack on while I work (bahahaha, I'm actually stalking blogs and commenting). I have my Pepsi that the mom of the kids who I babysit was kind enough to surprise me with this morning WOOHOO! Now I needed a snack. I don't do real breakfast, except on the weekends, because that will just put me in a coma and I'll sleep right through the morning and not get any work (blogging) done.

I went grocery shopping the other day and accidentally bought a few things that we didn't need... I justify this by claiming everything was on sale and even if we didn't need it, you can never have too much. Andy thinks I'm nuts and preparing for WW3 or really concerned about the recession. I think like this... he gets paid once a month... when I work (lol) I get paid every two weeks... when we are nearing the end of the month and I need pasta to fix our family Pennsagna recipe and the bank laughs at me, all I have to do is open up the pasta drawer and voila! Dinner will be as scheduled.

Looking for my snackies this morning, I open cabinet #1:



Seriously... who needs 5 bottles of salad dressing?

Then cabinet #2:


Now I know you can't see all of what's in there... but check this. Somehow I managed to rack up 5 jars of peanut butter, 2 bottls of syrup, 4 jars of Miracle Whip (including one jar of Light Miracle Whip in the back that nobody will touch), 2 bottls of squeezable grape jelly, 2 bottles of catsup and I can't see if there is anything behind that.

Nothing I can immediately shove into my mouth...

Moving along to cabinet #3:



Here we have 3 bottles of apple juice, 4 boxes of 10-pack juice packs, 3 jars of sweet relish and 1 bottle of mustard.

Again, nothing that I'm looking for.

Off to cabinet #4:



This is actually a drawer... a drawer filled with nothing but wheat pasta. There are 4 boxes of Rotini, 1 box of Penne, 2 boxes of Lasagna and 6 boxes of thin Spaghetti. We like pasta! LOL

Nothing that will give me my fix as of yet...

Next cabinet, #5:



You can't really see how much is in there, but this is twice as deep as the picture shows. Every thing from canned veggies, every canned tomato product known to man, soups and broths, I don't even know how many tuna cans (I love tuna and crackers).

Still nothing to help me out. What the crap man! There has got to be something in this flippin house to snack on! And that was only half of the cabinets... all neatly arranged with the lables facing forward... Ahh the joys of kitchen-OCD. But where are my dang snackies!!!

And just then I remembered! JACKPOT!



I have a secret hidey hole for my snack crackers... with 4 kids it's hard to call "dibs" on your favorite snackies, so I just hide them. I've bought the nastiest looking crackers, the wheat kind with absolutely no flavor thinking the kids wouldn't like them. Pffft, they snarf them down just like Doritos. I buy them their own boxes of fruty snacks so they leave my stuff along, but to no avail. Apparently nasty wheat original flavored wheat thins are better than Dora the Explorer fruity snacks! So in the quad room (the garage that's been remodeled and turned into the laundry room/den/office/dart room) I have some built in cabinets over my desk filled with paint and junk for the house. This is the one place the kids would never look, especially for food... so I've hidden my Cheez-Its and Triscuits there.

Life is wonderful again... what more could I ask for than my 32 oz Big Gulp of Pepsi and Cracked Pepper & Olive Oil Triscuits...Ahhhh!

Toilet Paper Nazi

I'd just like to know... for real... am I the only one in this house who knows:
Where we keep the toilet paper?

How to get a new roll on the fancy little toilet paper holder?

How to rinse off dishes with the oh-so difficult to use faucet?

What all the intricate buttons on the dishwasher mean? "Start" being the hardest one to figure out I guess.

When the trash can is full, that the bag full of nastiness can be transferred out to the polly cart in about 15 steps?

Exactly where the new trash bags are kept?

How many items can fit in the washing machine without it making a CLANK CLANK THUD noice b/c it can't spin properly?

That bras should not go in the dryer?

That the entertainment center is for entertainment, not a catch-all for homework, books, keys, mail, trash and receipts?

The tool box is where we keep the tape measure, screwdrivers and hammer... not in the place where we last used them?

To make the vaccum cleaner work, all you need to do is plug it in and push?

And the fancy thing about the broom is, you don't even have to plug it in?

The toybox is where the toys go, not under the couch, under the playpen, under the dining room table and on top of the damn entertainment center?

That sanded and beautifully refinished desk, efforts of Andy, in the teen/tween room is actually for homework?

An after school snack does not consist of 35 pizza pockets and some tater tots smothered with catsup and ranch dressing?

If you trip 15 times over your tennis shoes sitting in the middle of the livingroom floor, that's actually a signal to put them where they belong instead of grunting and moving them over a few inches?

When I say I need to see your bedroom floor before you go to bed tonight doesn't mean swoop all the clothes into a pile behind the door and hope they find their own way to the washing machine?

Seriously... am I the only one who knows these things?

Lions and Tigers and Bears OH MY!

"Dreams are illusions... from the book your soul is writing about you." Martha Norman

So the other night I had a dream that a bear was chasing Andy. He was trying to distract the bear from me so that I could shoot it. Sounds easy enough. Well, from all my hours playing Hunting Unlimited 2009 (complete addict) I knew that if I hit the bear in the forehead, the bullet would slide right off the top of his head and wouldn't kill him. So I had to choose my shot carefully. Well, this wasn't a game and I was frantic! And to top it off, I only had a shotgun. TWO bullets. I aimed, shot, missed. Aimed, shot, hit the bear, but didn't stop him.

Here's where panic overtook me. The bear is coming straight for Andy and I didn't know how to reload the gun. I don't even know if I had more ammo, all I knew was reloading wasn't a task I'd ever been shown. I was going to watch the love of my life be eaten by an angry black bear!

Usually, I have the ability, while still sleeping, to stop the dream, rewind the scene and direct it the way I want it to go. Tonight was different. I couldn't redirect the bear. The same scene just played over and over again and I woke up in a cold sweat, heart beating outside of my chest and body trembling. I was almost in tears as I reached out for Andy to make sure he was still there.

HORRIFYING!

So the next morning I remembered the dream and told Andy what had happened. He was appalled that I would let him get torn to shreds by a bear. He thought it was funny at first, but quickly changed his mind. I couldn't help it. I did manage to stop the dream before he was eaten alive, thus it has no ending. And I couldn't find the clear meaning of the dream. For the life of me I couldn't put that dream into perspective. Other than the fact that he needs to make sure I know how to use and LOAD a damn gun. We have guns in the house. For arguments sake, lets say an intruder comes in while he's gone away to some hunting or fishing trip and I'm alone with the kids. What the hell am I going to do to save my family? I believe I'd blow a robbers head off if I felt there was danger, but HOW with no BULLETS???

Anyway... the following week Manny, the 3-year-old, wakes up at 6 a.m. and crawls in bed with us. "Daddy, I'm scared".

"Why son?"

"The dinosaurs are going to get me."

"Don't be scared son, I'll kill the dinosaurs," as he squeezes him in closer, protecting Manny. We all snuggle up together, covers pulled up close to our faces.

Shortly after, we all get up and Manny heads to the hall bathroom while Andy is getting our girls up.

"Dad... watch out for the bear!" Manny hollers from the bathroom.

Needless to say, I'm a little freaked out but I don't say anything. How did Manny know about the bear? Hmmm. Something is off kilter. A threatening feeling, but I'm not sure what it's about.

I honestly believe that our subconscious mind tries to warn us about certain things. It tries to protect us from events or situations that we might have otherwise avoided, or it uses dreams to make us aware of something that is or could be coming our way.

Manny and I are apparently incahoots on something... I just wish I knew more.