I'm sitting here trying to think of something to whine about. I can't. I guess all that cussing an bitching and yelling I did last night got it all out of my system.
Ummm....lemme see if I can at least write something....
**There's a fly in my office and it keeps buzzing my head.
**Gas is expensive.
**The house that my parents lived in when they were stationed in Missisippi is gone. That's sad. She made it through Camille, but Katrina got 'er.
**My dining room was clean, freakin' neat as a pin, but I got my Free Cheese and lots of other free food today and now my dining room looks like a farmer's market. Uhh...with canned goods. A farmer's market with canned goods - now that's service, people. Anyway, now I've got to find a place for all of these canned goods so that my Brownies will have a place to make their Shrinky Dinks tomorrow. And a place to eat their cupcakes because they are not eating them on my carpet, no ma'am.
**Cute Baby has been a little on the sober side the last two days. I want my happy Cute Baby back!! He won't smile or belly laugh when I blow on his tummy and he will only sleep if I hold him and that's not a bad thing because I like nuggling him, but I just worry he's getting sick. Poor fella.
That's it. That's all I can find to whine about. If I'm going to have decent Whiney Wednesday posts from now on, I'm going to have to stop cursing and ranting on Tuesday nights.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
T3 (aka Top Ten Tuesday)
THE TOP TEN THINGS THAT HAVE MADE ME MAD TODAY
1. My husband is refusing to take out the trash again.I don't know why. I guess I'll just have to refuse to do his laundry and cook his meals until he gives in.
2. I let another damn load of laundry sour in the washing machine. I hate it when I do that. I thought I'd dried that load, but obviously I didn't since they now stink to high heaven.
3. The little ol' blue-hair that was in front of me alllllllllllllll the way down Main in her big white Lincoln, driving oh.....all of about 17 1/2 mph. God love her. But she still made me mad.
4. The fact that it's Men's Night and I always like Men's Night simply because after the kids go to bed at 8, I have until midnight to be completely by myself, yet tonight Paul just wheeled in about an hour ago. The jerk. He knew I'd had a bad day. When he's cranky I try to stay away and give him space. When I'm cranky he just smothers me. Or maybe it just seems like he smothers me because I'm crankyy. Either way, I'm REALLY cranky and now he's here which makes me EVEN BITCHIER.
5. My tan is fading. Normally I would include this in Whiney Wednesday, but for some reason today IT JUST MADE ME MAD.
6. The butheads at Discover didn't call today. And I was in JUST the right kind of mood to actually answer the phone and give them a piece of my mind. But see, when you pay your bill, they don't call. Hmh. Who knew.
7. I spent $20 for SEVEN GALLONS OF GAS this evening. That gave me oh....about 1/16 of a tank. Have I mentioned I drive an A*shole Van with a gas tank the size of a Sherman tank?8. The fact that I'm cranky has even made me mad today. I'm normally a pretty happy camper and I like to think I also stay on a pretty even keel most of the time. I'm not as moody as I used to be, by no means. So when I find myself cranky for no apparent reason it makes me even crankier because it's not like me to be this way, yet there's really just nothing I can do about it. AND there's really no particular reason WHY I'm cranky. I tried to get un-cranky this afternoon, but it just didn't happen.
9. I broke an underwire in my bra. My bras are $37.50 AND the closest Lane Bryant is in Springfield - an hour and a half away.
10. Did I mention that Paul CAME HOME EARLY????????? And he is now sitting in the living room playing PS2?? WHY is this making me so mad????The only good thing to happen today is that Sis and I found a twenty in the parking lot at Wal*Mart tonight AND WE KEPT IT. And it felt good.
*yawn*
I've had a bowl of frosted flakes and a Diet Coke this morning and I still can't wake up. And that's sad because I got up at 6:30 and it's now 10:40. This is how bad it is - when Cute Baby laid down for his morning nap, I turned on the TV, put Chan at one end of the couch and Kady at the other. I put one of my feet in Kady's lap and one of my hands on Chan's leg. Then I went to sleep. I figured that if they moved or tried to get up so they could set the house on fire or go eat crayons, I'd feel them move and I'd wake up. The poor kids were so dumbfounded that their mom/sitter was passed out cold on the sofa at 9am that they sat stock still for the 35 minutes I was unconscious. I feel awful that I had to do that, but man, I needed it. I actually need more. But now Cute Baby is up and out of the very safe refuge of the playpen and therefore, I must now remain upright and conscious. He eats things. Things that aren't meant to be eaten. Like ponytail holders, lint and stale Coco Puffs that I have no idea where they come from, I just swept, for cryin' out loud.
I know why I'm like this - I should be starting my period soon. For some of you that will be filed directly into your Redneck Diva TMI file and that's okay. But I just felt like I needed to explain my extreme need for sleep today. So you wouldn't think I was a crack ho or something and that I had just pulled an all-night corner walk while smoking and snorting things that might possibly be illegal. Because I'm not and I didn't.
---------------------
Last night was Ladies' Night. April won money. I'm sure at one point I knew how much she won, but for some reason the amount is escaping me this morning. But anyway, gooooooooooooo April!! Woot. Yeah.
--------------------
My youngest child has Chandler in a headlock and is saying "Come ON, suckah! You think you can defeat me? You are WRONG, suckah!!" I have no idea where she gets it.
--------------------
I really need to go to Mrs. Coach's office to get my Free Cheese. I do believe I was double dog dared to go in my pajamas and whaddya know I am still in my pajamas, but for some reason the thought of loading these children into the van and driving to town just makes me kind of nauseous right now.
--------------------
Last night when Jill picked up Chan, she found her son sitting in my darkened living room next to my husband who was playing Kill Zone on PS2. I was sitting at the table writing checks to Scholastic Book Club so my kids' classrooms can get free books when I order every month. She said, "Uhh...well, it's kind of dark in here, huh?" Without looking up from the check I was writing I said, "Yeah. Your son is getting his daily dose of gratuitous bloody violence. I'm pretty sorry about that. Blame my husband. I told him to turn it off while there was a child NOT related to us in the house, but he won't listen." And all the while Chan's over there going "Yeah! Ooh you got 'im, Uncle Pa-Paul! Yesssssssss!" I'm fairly sure she can't wait till he's enrolled in public Pre-K next year.
--------------------
Speaking of enrolling - I spoke with the lady in charge of Lab School this morning. Kady and Chandler will start in a mere 4 weeks.
Let me explain - Lab School is the Child Development Lab at the local college. College students enrolled in Early Childhood Ed, Child Development, etc and are required to do a lab can take this class. The school has a teacher and an aide, but the college students also go into the school and help, observe and interact with the kids. The 3-year-old program is Tuesday/Thursday for two hours a session. The 4-year-old program is Monday/Wednesday/Friday for two hours a session. It's entirely a play to learn cirriculum and I've never seen a child NOT thrive in the school. It lets them get used to an organized school-type setting, but in a very relaxed way.
Four weeks till my baby spends time away from me with someone who is not related to her for two whole hours at a time!! I feel kind of woozy when I think about it.
In the meantime, though, Kady is so excited she can hardly stand it. Every day she asks if she and Chandler can go to school today. I think I'm going to make a paper chain with a link for every day until school starts. We can take one off every day and then maybe she can focus on the chain and not driving her mother up the wall with the continual asking.
----------------
I think I'm going to go make some coffee. Ugh. It's now 11:20am. I'm still in my pajamas and I'm still tired.
*yawn*
I know why I'm like this - I should be starting my period soon. For some of you that will be filed directly into your Redneck Diva TMI file and that's okay. But I just felt like I needed to explain my extreme need for sleep today. So you wouldn't think I was a crack ho or something and that I had just pulled an all-night corner walk while smoking and snorting things that might possibly be illegal. Because I'm not and I didn't.
---------------------
Last night was Ladies' Night. April won money. I'm sure at one point I knew how much she won, but for some reason the amount is escaping me this morning. But anyway, gooooooooooooo April!! Woot. Yeah.
--------------------
My youngest child has Chandler in a headlock and is saying "Come ON, suckah! You think you can defeat me? You are WRONG, suckah!!" I have no idea where she gets it.
--------------------
I really need to go to Mrs. Coach's office to get my Free Cheese. I do believe I was double dog dared to go in my pajamas and whaddya know I am still in my pajamas, but for some reason the thought of loading these children into the van and driving to town just makes me kind of nauseous right now.
--------------------
Last night when Jill picked up Chan, she found her son sitting in my darkened living room next to my husband who was playing Kill Zone on PS2. I was sitting at the table writing checks to Scholastic Book Club so my kids' classrooms can get free books when I order every month. She said, "Uhh...well, it's kind of dark in here, huh?" Without looking up from the check I was writing I said, "Yeah. Your son is getting his daily dose of gratuitous bloody violence. I'm pretty sorry about that. Blame my husband. I told him to turn it off while there was a child NOT related to us in the house, but he won't listen." And all the while Chan's over there going "Yeah! Ooh you got 'im, Uncle Pa-Paul! Yesssssssss!" I'm fairly sure she can't wait till he's enrolled in public Pre-K next year.
--------------------
Speaking of enrolling - I spoke with the lady in charge of Lab School this morning. Kady and Chandler will start in a mere 4 weeks.
Let me explain - Lab School is the Child Development Lab at the local college. College students enrolled in Early Childhood Ed, Child Development, etc and are required to do a lab can take this class. The school has a teacher and an aide, but the college students also go into the school and help, observe and interact with the kids. The 3-year-old program is Tuesday/Thursday for two hours a session. The 4-year-old program is Monday/Wednesday/Friday for two hours a session. It's entirely a play to learn cirriculum and I've never seen a child NOT thrive in the school. It lets them get used to an organized school-type setting, but in a very relaxed way.
Four weeks till my baby spends time away from me with someone who is not related to her for two whole hours at a time!! I feel kind of woozy when I think about it.
In the meantime, though, Kady is so excited she can hardly stand it. Every day she asks if she and Chandler can go to school today. I think I'm going to make a paper chain with a link for every day until school starts. We can take one off every day and then maybe she can focus on the chain and not driving her mother up the wall with the continual asking.
----------------
I think I'm going to go make some coffee. Ugh. It's now 11:20am. I'm still in my pajamas and I'm still tired.
*yawn*
Monday, August 29, 2005
I'm gettin' dizzy
Tonight I've been listenin' to some vinyl. Yeah baby. I think I mentioned a few posts back that Sis gave me her old record player. I so love this thing!!
For now the record player is perched rather precariously on my little hand-painted gingerbread man cart in my dining room. This record player is HUGE. So huge that sitting on that little metal cart, it reminds me of, I think it was Jeff Foxworthy, who talked about when he was a kid they put the television on a metal TV tray and if the kids pulled it over on 'em, well they'd only do that once. Yeah. I really need a table for that gargantuan thing. I want it out here in my office so I can chill with my records while I blog. It's like a melding of eras - records and blogging.
Right now my collection is pretty limited. I have more John Denver than anything. And I'm okay with that. I have two Carpenters and I'm so happy I could cry. "Rainy Days and Mondays" and "Top of the World" - yeah. The only thing that would make me even more ecstatic is if I had "Close to You". Sadly, I don't. Yet. Christmas is coming ya know.
I have one Statler Brothers record as well. Now, keep in mind that my sister actually gave me one of her precious Statler Bros. records when she gave me the player. I was shocked. Bub had been buying her them in lots on eBay and the one she gave me she had three of. So it wasn't a huge personal sacrifice, but still, I was honored that she chose to bestow upon me a coveted Stats record. We are major Statler Brothers fans in this family. Sis has seen them in concert like, five times. Mom and Dad have seen them several times. I have only seen them a measly once, but then again, I'm not as die-hard a fan as Sis is. I was in the third row the time I saw them, though. That's gotta count for something.
I managed to be the one that came out of Mom and Dad's divorce with the lullaby record. This record was actually Nana's and as kids, we listened to it any time we were at her house. Well, along with "YMCA", "Macho Man" and "Chicken Fat", which was an exercise record that we always played faster than it was supposed to play and nearly throw ourselves into cardiac arrest trying to do what the record said. Those were some good times. But the lullaby record - I loved that thing. This woman's voice, to this day, makes me sleepy.
Side one is her singing about a little boy and girl on a rainy day and all the things they do to keep themselves entertained till they could go outside. Nothing like what we did on rainy days; these kids did wholesome things like play with the toys they had been neglecting like a funny little monkey and a pretty ballerina. Yeah. They were total dorks, those kids, Bobby and Cindy, I think were their names. We really didn't listen to that side much. Even back then it was boring.
But side two . . . to this day causes my eyes to involuntarily close. I will never forget the day that my mom asked my Nana if she could take it home with us. We fell asleep on the couch for over a week because we just HAD to hear it every night. The whole second side is her narrating the journey of a Lullaby Train. The train starts in Great Britain and she sings a Welsh lullaby, then on to Norway, Spain, Germany, and France. The next song is a Jewish lullaby that was always my favorite. The album cover describes it as "haunting" and that is how I would have to describe it as well. It gives me the shivers - the good kind. After that it's an Italian lullaby and she finishes up with a lullaby she wrote her children.
The night we brought the records home, Sam was having a sleepover, so I told the girls they could listen to it in the living room. I told them how much I loved it as a kid and how none of the cousins could resist its magic. Abby, who is a tough, somewhat evil, nearly 9 year old, claimed that no stupid record was going to put her to sleep. She'd stay awake through the whole thing. Well, of course, Kady was out like a light. Abby played with my hair, thoroughly inspected all of my fingernails and their polish, twirled her own hair, and fidgeted until she finally just passed out. Cold. Even the evil one succumbed to its power. (Insert evil triumphant laugh here)
BUT the pride and joy of my collection is this -
Now, not only do I have it on CD, but I now have the record. I ROCK.
OOOH and look at the back cover -
Would you not just love to curl up next to the stud wearing that chain? Run your fingers through his curly chest hair and nuzzle his sideburns? Mmmmm . . . yeah.
For now the record player is perched rather precariously on my little hand-painted gingerbread man cart in my dining room. This record player is HUGE. So huge that sitting on that little metal cart, it reminds me of, I think it was Jeff Foxworthy, who talked about when he was a kid they put the television on a metal TV tray and if the kids pulled it over on 'em, well they'd only do that once. Yeah. I really need a table for that gargantuan thing. I want it out here in my office so I can chill with my records while I blog. It's like a melding of eras - records and blogging.
Right now my collection is pretty limited. I have more John Denver than anything. And I'm okay with that. I have two Carpenters and I'm so happy I could cry. "Rainy Days and Mondays" and "Top of the World" - yeah. The only thing that would make me even more ecstatic is if I had "Close to You". Sadly, I don't. Yet. Christmas is coming ya know.
I have one Statler Brothers record as well. Now, keep in mind that my sister actually gave me one of her precious Statler Bros. records when she gave me the player. I was shocked. Bub had been buying her them in lots on eBay and the one she gave me she had three of. So it wasn't a huge personal sacrifice, but still, I was honored that she chose to bestow upon me a coveted Stats record. We are major Statler Brothers fans in this family. Sis has seen them in concert like, five times. Mom and Dad have seen them several times. I have only seen them a measly once, but then again, I'm not as die-hard a fan as Sis is. I was in the third row the time I saw them, though. That's gotta count for something.
I managed to be the one that came out of Mom and Dad's divorce with the lullaby record. This record was actually Nana's and as kids, we listened to it any time we were at her house. Well, along with "YMCA", "Macho Man" and "Chicken Fat", which was an exercise record that we always played faster than it was supposed to play and nearly throw ourselves into cardiac arrest trying to do what the record said. Those were some good times. But the lullaby record - I loved that thing. This woman's voice, to this day, makes me sleepy.
Side one is her singing about a little boy and girl on a rainy day and all the things they do to keep themselves entertained till they could go outside. Nothing like what we did on rainy days; these kids did wholesome things like play with the toys they had been neglecting like a funny little monkey and a pretty ballerina. Yeah. They were total dorks, those kids, Bobby and Cindy, I think were their names. We really didn't listen to that side much. Even back then it was boring.
But side two . . . to this day causes my eyes to involuntarily close. I will never forget the day that my mom asked my Nana if she could take it home with us. We fell asleep on the couch for over a week because we just HAD to hear it every night. The whole second side is her narrating the journey of a Lullaby Train. The train starts in Great Britain and she sings a Welsh lullaby, then on to Norway, Spain, Germany, and France. The next song is a Jewish lullaby that was always my favorite. The album cover describes it as "haunting" and that is how I would have to describe it as well. It gives me the shivers - the good kind. After that it's an Italian lullaby and she finishes up with a lullaby she wrote her children.
The night we brought the records home, Sam was having a sleepover, so I told the girls they could listen to it in the living room. I told them how much I loved it as a kid and how none of the cousins could resist its magic. Abby, who is a tough, somewhat evil, nearly 9 year old, claimed that no stupid record was going to put her to sleep. She'd stay awake through the whole thing. Well, of course, Kady was out like a light. Abby played with my hair, thoroughly inspected all of my fingernails and their polish, twirled her own hair, and fidgeted until she finally just passed out. Cold. Even the evil one succumbed to its power. (Insert evil triumphant laugh here)
BUT the pride and joy of my collection is this -
Now, not only do I have it on CD, but I now have the record. I ROCK.
OOOH and look at the back cover -
Would you not just love to curl up next to the stud wearing that chain? Run your fingers through his curly chest hair and nuzzle his sideburns? Mmmmm . . . yeah.
It burns! It burns!
This morning Ab had a dr's appointment at 8:20. She's been having some pretty bad abdominal pain and burning in her stomach and chest lately, so I figured we needed to get that checked out. She's a worrier, so my first thought was that it was an ulcer, or at least the beginnings of one. Up until just recently the poor child had calouses on her pinky fingers from chewing on them constantly. She's always been a bit nervous. Thank God she's coming out of that, but from time to time she'll start chewing on those fingers again.
So after a rousing game of Twenty Questions mixed with The Spanish Inquisition, Dr. David declared her ulcer free (or as ulcer free as you can declare someone without actually doing a test for it) and said it was acid reflux. I was really not surprised. All three of the kids had it as infants. Ab's was the worst in the "vomit across the room" category and Kady's was the worst in the "scream 24/7 because my insides are being eaten away by acid" category. Sam just spit up on everything, but never barfed across the room or screamed - ah, that precious middle child. So he prescribed Zantac twice a day. Voila. That was pretty simple.
We dropped off her Rx at the pharmacy and the chick said it'd be 30 minutes. Oy. So we went to the bank and got Mr. Diva some money because he lost all of his at the casino Saturday night. Then we went to Dollar Tree, or "Dollar Treat" as Kady calls it. The store is full of crap pretty much all the time, but I get the scented diaper sacks for the babies' nasty stinky drawers there, so I still go. But this time I hit the dollar store junk jackpot. I got sand bracelet kits, three for a BUCK!! And sun catcher painting thingies, two for a BUCK! Talk about some cheap Brownie time-consumers.
We picked up Ab's Rx and headed back to the school. As I waited my turn to pull out of the parking lot, I checked out the receipt stapled to the bag. According to it, my insurance saved me $143.50 for a bottle of Zantac. God save the welfare system.
Now the munchkins and I are just hangin'. I should probably go back to town to pick up this month's Free Cheese allotment, but I just can't bring myself to load 'em all up again today. Which means that tomorrow I'll have to get around and dressed and all presentable to the public tomorrow, too. Yeesh. I mean, Mrs. Coach says that I can come in my pajamas and that lots of others get their Free Cheese in their pajamas, but there are a few shreds of decency left in me and standing the Free Cheese line in my pajamas, I just can't do.
So after a rousing game of Twenty Questions mixed with The Spanish Inquisition, Dr. David declared her ulcer free (or as ulcer free as you can declare someone without actually doing a test for it) and said it was acid reflux. I was really not surprised. All three of the kids had it as infants. Ab's was the worst in the "vomit across the room" category and Kady's was the worst in the "scream 24/7 because my insides are being eaten away by acid" category. Sam just spit up on everything, but never barfed across the room or screamed - ah, that precious middle child. So he prescribed Zantac twice a day. Voila. That was pretty simple.
We dropped off her Rx at the pharmacy and the chick said it'd be 30 minutes. Oy. So we went to the bank and got Mr. Diva some money because he lost all of his at the casino Saturday night. Then we went to Dollar Tree, or "Dollar Treat" as Kady calls it. The store is full of crap pretty much all the time, but I get the scented diaper sacks for the babies' nasty stinky drawers there, so I still go. But this time I hit the dollar store junk jackpot. I got sand bracelet kits, three for a BUCK!! And sun catcher painting thingies, two for a BUCK! Talk about some cheap Brownie time-consumers.
We picked up Ab's Rx and headed back to the school. As I waited my turn to pull out of the parking lot, I checked out the receipt stapled to the bag. According to it, my insurance saved me $143.50 for a bottle of Zantac. God save the welfare system.
Now the munchkins and I are just hangin'. I should probably go back to town to pick up this month's Free Cheese allotment, but I just can't bring myself to load 'em all up again today. Which means that tomorrow I'll have to get around and dressed and all presentable to the public tomorrow, too. Yeesh. I mean, Mrs. Coach says that I can come in my pajamas and that lots of others get their Free Cheese in their pajamas, but there are a few shreds of decency left in me and standing the Free Cheese line in my pajamas, I just can't do.
Sunday, August 28, 2005
Phunday Photos
I am avoiding some major laundry and what better way to shirk your household duties but to blog! And add a lot of time-consuming pictures as well!
Sam's "tots" shirt. He'd wear it every day if his mother could keep the laundry caught up.
This is Sam getting his first stripe on his belt a few weeks back. It was our first experience with a ceremonial awarding of a rank and I was pretty impressed. Or it could've been that I was just giddy from getting to stare at Sensei for an extra hour that week.
Sam's "tots" shirt. He'd wear it every day if his mother could keep the laundry caught up.
This is Sam getting his first stripe on his belt a few weeks back. It was our first experience with a ceremonial awarding of a rank and I was pretty impressed. Or it could've been that I was just giddy from getting to stare at Sensei for an extra hour that week.
This is Kady practicing how to milk a cow Thursday morning at the Fair's mobile milking demonstration. Of course, the guy showed them all how to milk a cow by hand and then told them it was an archaic practice and very germy and unsanitary. Yeesh.
This poor fella ended up half in the ditch at the derby Friday night. He was upset about it, too. Can't say I blame him.
Last night we went to the Mud Run at the Fairgrounds (I told you it was a redneck weeekend). I just had to take a picture to show y'all non-redneck folks just what the guys around here like to do to their trucks from time to time.
Mom took this with my camera the weekend we went to the "beach". I had gone to get the car and when I drove back up to where they all were I found them all, all 8 of them, standing there looking up at the sky. That alone would've made a good picture, but then Mom showed me what she took and I was okay with it instead.
This is Cindy Brady taking a well, cat nap on the ladder on my front porch. I used to decorate this ladder for all the seasons - pumpkins in the fall with autumn leaves, holly garland at Christmas, flowers in the spring. But when Little Dog (God rest his little puppy soul) invaded, he ate anything I'd put up there. Then along came the kittens who feel compelled to bat at and shred anything I hang from it. They have taken it over now as a napping ladder.
I shot it from my big chair in the living room. And yes, I realize that the window is disgustingly filthy. I never said I was Martha Stewart.
This poor fella ended up half in the ditch at the derby Friday night. He was upset about it, too. Can't say I blame him.
Last night we went to the Mud Run at the Fairgrounds (I told you it was a redneck weeekend). I just had to take a picture to show y'all non-redneck folks just what the guys around here like to do to their trucks from time to time.
Mom took this with my camera the weekend we went to the "beach". I had gone to get the car and when I drove back up to where they all were I found them all, all 8 of them, standing there looking up at the sky. That alone would've made a good picture, but then Mom showed me what she took and I was okay with it instead.
This is Cindy Brady taking a well, cat nap on the ladder on my front porch. I used to decorate this ladder for all the seasons - pumpkins in the fall with autumn leaves, holly garland at Christmas, flowers in the spring. But when Little Dog (God rest his little puppy soul) invaded, he ate anything I'd put up there. Then along came the kittens who feel compelled to bat at and shred anything I hang from it. They have taken it over now as a napping ladder.
I shot it from my big chair in the living room. And yes, I realize that the window is disgustingly filthy. I never said I was Martha Stewart.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Redneck Friday Night
Last night was the demolition derby. We attended. As spectators, not as drivers. Yes, my husband and I went to the derby and took our children and sat in the stands and just watched.
We got there really early and sat backwards in the bleachers watching the typical last-minute welding and banging and clanking and such that always goes on in the pits. The pits that we were in last year. *sigh* So we sat there and watched and pointed out things to the kids, etc. At one point Paul leaned back and rested his back against my chest and turned to nuzzle my neck. It was HOT and humid and I don't like being touched when I'm sweating, but he's not one for public displays so I allowed it. He began speaking, his breath hot on my neck, I closed my eyes in anticipation of the sweet words he was going to say to me and then I heard, "Man. I sure wish I could've gotten that car ready in time."
I shoved him hard in the back, nearly knocking him and Kady's snow cone into the muddy pits below the bleachers. I said, "You had PLENTY of time to get ready it's just that you CHOSE not to! So don't sit there and be all whiny and sad that you're not driving because you're just a ... a ... WEENIE!" At my outburst a whole herd of rednecks turned to look at us. I just glared at them all and they turned away, scared of the wrath they had just witnessed by the curly-headed sweaty chick over by the judge's stand. Paul mumbled something that I didn't understand and I didn't ask for clarification because frankly, I didn't care. Weenie.
I wasn't really mad at him and he wasn't offended by my harsh words. He knew I was right. So things went along normally, we discussed different cars, visited with some of the guys we got to know before last year's derby, got some tips on where to find a Grand Prix trannie and yelled repeatedly at our children that if they kept standing up in the bleachers and ended up falling and breaking theirs legs we didn't want to hear them squalling about it.
Finally the announcer asked us to stand for the National Anthem. We couldn't see a flag so we just kind of stood there looking off in the same direction everyone else was. I'm pretty sure we were actually being respectful to the Zipper that was whirling screaming, cotton candy-laden people just on the other side of the arena. Kady stood there waving her arms, "directing" the music. I didn't know she was doing it till she hit my leg and I looked down to find her with both arms high in the air, eyes closed, obviously really getting into it. Then the announcer said, "Folks, let's just have a moment of silence for those who have lost their lives fighting for our country." So I put my hand over Kady's mouth, Paul slipped his hat back off his head and I guarantee you the announcer didn't even take another breath before he said, "Alright folks, the derby will begin shortly!" Paul kind of laughed and said, "Was that a full moment?" I said, "Well, I guess a moment is kind of relative."
We made the kids wear tennis shoes last night because sandals at the fairgrounds is never a good thing. Trust me, I wore flip flops last night. Yuck. Well, Sam hasn't worn tennis shoes all summer. He's either barefoot or in his flipflops all the time. I was absolutely mortified when I happened to look down at his feet propped up on the seat in front of me and saw that his socked-covered baby toe was sticking out the side of his shoe! I told him that we'd get him some new shoes as soon as I possibly could. He shrugged and said, "Okay. Whatever." Abby would've died a thousand deaths before she'd have even worn them out of the house, but the boy, eh, who cares.
When the derby started all three kids were completely still. Save for the occasional "Oooh!" or "Oh!" or "Smash 'im!!" they were mesmerized by what was going on directly in front of them. Abby sat enthralled, more quiet than the other two. After the first heat she leaned over to me and said, "How old do I have to be before you'll let me drive in one?" I said, "Fourteen." She said, "Okay. That's only 5 more years. I can wait." She's her momma's girl.
There were storms in the forecast, but there have been storms in the forecast for a solid week and a half now and we haven't seen much action, so we really didn't pay them too much attention. But by the time the fourth heat was underway, the sky was pitch black and the lighting was getting closer. If it had just been a matter of rain, we could've just moved to the covered stands, but the lightning was scary. While there was a break in the action (The announcer said, "They're gonna take a short break so if y'all need to go to the bathroom, now'd be the time." That just struck me funny for some reason. He could've at least said, "Visit the concession stand or something.") Paul and I discussed the safety of staying or the responsibility of getting our children out of harm's way. We finally decided that the kids' safety was well, yeah, our responsibility.
When we told the kids it was time to go you should've heard the gnashing of teeth and the wailing the ensued. We had to all but pry their fingers from the bleachers. Abby and Sam have been to several derbies, but we never sat in the pit before. Kady had never seen one and was MAD that we were making her leave before it was over. Of course, Paul was just getting mad that they were whining and crying and begging and I could see that things weren't going to be pretty so I said, "Hey! Let's just go to Wal*Mart and buy everyone some new shoes!" That shut 'em up.
Of course, Sonic is right on the way to Wal*Mart so we stopped and got a soda. Sam said, "You are SUCH a great mom!" as I handed him a Dr. Pepper at 9 o'clock at night. I said, "Yeah, seems I'm the greatest mom ever when I'm giving you what you want." Abby said, "Welllll...yeah. So give us what we want more often and we'll tell you you're awesome more often."
At Wal*Mart Paul took the kids to the fish tanks while I picked out some new socks for Sam. They were right across an aisle from where I was. Kady came running over to me and said, "Oh Momma!! You gotta see dis!!!" So I walked over to the fish tanks and she was standing in front of one particular tank, shifting from one foot to the other excitedly. She said, "Look! He's not moving!! Awwww. I'm going to call you No Move-y." Paul caught my eye and we both laughed. I said, "Sweetie, if he's not moving, you might wanna call him Corpse-y." She said, "Okay! Hi Corpse-y!"
All three kids got new sneakers and Paul and I got arch supports. Man, it sucks being old. I gazed wistfully upon all of the adorable heeled winter shoes and boots as I dropped my old lady arch supports into the cart and wheeled off to pick out some calcium for my upcoming bone-loss and figured I'd better start scoping out a delectable brand of fiber cereal.
On a lighter note, we ran into Jeff, the guy who gave me the Grand Prix that is missing a trannie and a distributor cap and needs four new tires. He asked if I was running and I said no. He said, "Yeah, I heard you had a hard time getting any car to work for ya. Sorry." I shrugged and said, "Eh, it wasn't meant to be. But next month - I am SO driving. Even if I have to get out there on a bicycle!" He said, "So what all was wrong with the Grand Prix?" I informed him that the trannie was completely gone and that it also didn't have a distributor cap. He kind of grinned and said, "Oh. I didn't know the trannie was gone. And also, I just realized the other day, the drive shaft is sitting at Dad's shop." Hmm... I guess we'd have figured it out eventually. So he said he thought he knew where he could find a trannie, said he'd personally get a distributor cap for it and get the drive shaft if I could come up with four tires. Heck YEAH I can come up with four tires.
A friend of Paul's called this morning and said he'd get the Mustang that Andy gave us over to the shop where he works and he and Paul would finish up what needed to be done to it so that Paul can drive next month. Then he asked what I needed. I told him that if we could come up with all the parts, I had a car that needed to be Frankenstein'd together. He said, "Sis, you get 'em together and get 'em to me and I'll build you a derby car." I think I love him.
Three weeks. We have three weeks. I'm trying not to get my hopes too high just yet. You see how this month's turned out. But in the meantime I'm gonna air up the tires on Paul's bike.
We got there really early and sat backwards in the bleachers watching the typical last-minute welding and banging and clanking and such that always goes on in the pits. The pits that we were in last year. *sigh* So we sat there and watched and pointed out things to the kids, etc. At one point Paul leaned back and rested his back against my chest and turned to nuzzle my neck. It was HOT and humid and I don't like being touched when I'm sweating, but he's not one for public displays so I allowed it. He began speaking, his breath hot on my neck, I closed my eyes in anticipation of the sweet words he was going to say to me and then I heard, "Man. I sure wish I could've gotten that car ready in time."
I shoved him hard in the back, nearly knocking him and Kady's snow cone into the muddy pits below the bleachers. I said, "You had PLENTY of time to get ready it's just that you CHOSE not to! So don't sit there and be all whiny and sad that you're not driving because you're just a ... a ... WEENIE!" At my outburst a whole herd of rednecks turned to look at us. I just glared at them all and they turned away, scared of the wrath they had just witnessed by the curly-headed sweaty chick over by the judge's stand. Paul mumbled something that I didn't understand and I didn't ask for clarification because frankly, I didn't care. Weenie.
I wasn't really mad at him and he wasn't offended by my harsh words. He knew I was right. So things went along normally, we discussed different cars, visited with some of the guys we got to know before last year's derby, got some tips on where to find a Grand Prix trannie and yelled repeatedly at our children that if they kept standing up in the bleachers and ended up falling and breaking theirs legs we didn't want to hear them squalling about it.
Finally the announcer asked us to stand for the National Anthem. We couldn't see a flag so we just kind of stood there looking off in the same direction everyone else was. I'm pretty sure we were actually being respectful to the Zipper that was whirling screaming, cotton candy-laden people just on the other side of the arena. Kady stood there waving her arms, "directing" the music. I didn't know she was doing it till she hit my leg and I looked down to find her with both arms high in the air, eyes closed, obviously really getting into it. Then the announcer said, "Folks, let's just have a moment of silence for those who have lost their lives fighting for our country." So I put my hand over Kady's mouth, Paul slipped his hat back off his head and I guarantee you the announcer didn't even take another breath before he said, "Alright folks, the derby will begin shortly!" Paul kind of laughed and said, "Was that a full moment?" I said, "Well, I guess a moment is kind of relative."
We made the kids wear tennis shoes last night because sandals at the fairgrounds is never a good thing. Trust me, I wore flip flops last night. Yuck. Well, Sam hasn't worn tennis shoes all summer. He's either barefoot or in his flipflops all the time. I was absolutely mortified when I happened to look down at his feet propped up on the seat in front of me and saw that his socked-covered baby toe was sticking out the side of his shoe! I told him that we'd get him some new shoes as soon as I possibly could. He shrugged and said, "Okay. Whatever." Abby would've died a thousand deaths before she'd have even worn them out of the house, but the boy, eh, who cares.
When the derby started all three kids were completely still. Save for the occasional "Oooh!" or "Oh!" or "Smash 'im!!" they were mesmerized by what was going on directly in front of them. Abby sat enthralled, more quiet than the other two. After the first heat she leaned over to me and said, "How old do I have to be before you'll let me drive in one?" I said, "Fourteen." She said, "Okay. That's only 5 more years. I can wait." She's her momma's girl.
There were storms in the forecast, but there have been storms in the forecast for a solid week and a half now and we haven't seen much action, so we really didn't pay them too much attention. But by the time the fourth heat was underway, the sky was pitch black and the lighting was getting closer. If it had just been a matter of rain, we could've just moved to the covered stands, but the lightning was scary. While there was a break in the action (The announcer said, "They're gonna take a short break so if y'all need to go to the bathroom, now'd be the time." That just struck me funny for some reason. He could've at least said, "Visit the concession stand or something.") Paul and I discussed the safety of staying or the responsibility of getting our children out of harm's way. We finally decided that the kids' safety was well, yeah, our responsibility.
When we told the kids it was time to go you should've heard the gnashing of teeth and the wailing the ensued. We had to all but pry their fingers from the bleachers. Abby and Sam have been to several derbies, but we never sat in the pit before. Kady had never seen one and was MAD that we were making her leave before it was over. Of course, Paul was just getting mad that they were whining and crying and begging and I could see that things weren't going to be pretty so I said, "Hey! Let's just go to Wal*Mart and buy everyone some new shoes!" That shut 'em up.
Of course, Sonic is right on the way to Wal*Mart so we stopped and got a soda. Sam said, "You are SUCH a great mom!" as I handed him a Dr. Pepper at 9 o'clock at night. I said, "Yeah, seems I'm the greatest mom ever when I'm giving you what you want." Abby said, "Welllll...yeah. So give us what we want more often and we'll tell you you're awesome more often."
At Wal*Mart Paul took the kids to the fish tanks while I picked out some new socks for Sam. They were right across an aisle from where I was. Kady came running over to me and said, "Oh Momma!! You gotta see dis!!!" So I walked over to the fish tanks and she was standing in front of one particular tank, shifting from one foot to the other excitedly. She said, "Look! He's not moving!! Awwww. I'm going to call you No Move-y." Paul caught my eye and we both laughed. I said, "Sweetie, if he's not moving, you might wanna call him Corpse-y." She said, "Okay! Hi Corpse-y!"
All three kids got new sneakers and Paul and I got arch supports. Man, it sucks being old. I gazed wistfully upon all of the adorable heeled winter shoes and boots as I dropped my old lady arch supports into the cart and wheeled off to pick out some calcium for my upcoming bone-loss and figured I'd better start scoping out a delectable brand of fiber cereal.
On a lighter note, we ran into Jeff, the guy who gave me the Grand Prix that is missing a trannie and a distributor cap and needs four new tires. He asked if I was running and I said no. He said, "Yeah, I heard you had a hard time getting any car to work for ya. Sorry." I shrugged and said, "Eh, it wasn't meant to be. But next month - I am SO driving. Even if I have to get out there on a bicycle!" He said, "So what all was wrong with the Grand Prix?" I informed him that the trannie was completely gone and that it also didn't have a distributor cap. He kind of grinned and said, "Oh. I didn't know the trannie was gone. And also, I just realized the other day, the drive shaft is sitting at Dad's shop." Hmm... I guess we'd have figured it out eventually. So he said he thought he knew where he could find a trannie, said he'd personally get a distributor cap for it and get the drive shaft if I could come up with four tires. Heck YEAH I can come up with four tires.
A friend of Paul's called this morning and said he'd get the Mustang that Andy gave us over to the shop where he works and he and Paul would finish up what needed to be done to it so that Paul can drive next month. Then he asked what I needed. I told him that if we could come up with all the parts, I had a car that needed to be Frankenstein'd together. He said, "Sis, you get 'em together and get 'em to me and I'll build you a derby car." I think I love him.
Three weeks. We have three weeks. I'm trying not to get my hopes too high just yet. You see how this month's turned out. But in the meantime I'm gonna air up the tires on Paul's bike.
Name Brand
Okay, so not only do I steal from Hillbilly Mom all the time, but now I'm going to steal from Brian as well. Brian did a post about the things that he has to have name brand, the things he can waver a bit on and the things he could care less about and it made me think about the brands that I use in my home. And now I'm going to share with you because well, I'm just pretty sure that y'all are just dying to know what kind of deodorant I use. Oh you aren't? Too bad.
It's gotta be this brand or I'll do without:
Laundry Detergent - Tide Clean Breeze. Once, when Mr. Diva and I were first married and broke, one of the warehouse grocery stores in town had Surf for like, $4 a gargantuan box, so I bought some because if I'm not mistaken, we only had about $5 that week and no clean clothes. Mr. Diva put on that first Surf-laundered shirt and promptly broke out from head to toe. We've used nothing but Tide since. I did go from Original scent to Mountain Spring a few years ago and then when they came out with Clean Breeze I switched over. I live in fear that they will discontinue my scent.
Fabric Softener - Downy Clean Breeze. Hey, it matches my Tide. I was out awhile back and Mom gave me a box of Bounce. Then all of my laundry smelled like Mom's. Not that that's a bad thing, I just like my laundry to smell like well, my laundry.
Bleach - Clorox. I don't like cheap bleach.
Shortening - Crisco. We get generic shortening when we get our monthly alottment of Free Cheese, and I use it to grease pans and stuff, but when it comes to actual baking, it's gotta be Crisco. Loretta Lynn knows her shortening, I gotta give it to the ol' gal. I used the generic once when I made decorator icing and it separated and was nasty-looking. Mom clicked her tongue and said, "Didn't use Crisco, did you?" Then like a wise product sage, pulled a can of Crisco from her cabinet and handed it to me. "Never use anything but Crisco from now on, dear." And I haven't. It was a bonding moment, a passing down of the shortening torch.
Salt - Morton's. I don't really know why. Mom said that Memaw always used Morton's and Mom has always used Morton's, so I do, too.
Waffles - Eggo. Those Great Value Wal*Mart waffles are disgusting.
Chips - We only buy Lay's KC Masterpiece BBQ chips, Cheetos, Ruffles, Pringles and Doritos. I can't handle a wanna-be chip or cheese puff.
Peanut butter - Peter Pan. I cannot eat anything else. My throat locks up and I gag. The kids would eat peanuts that had been run over by a truck on their PB&J, but I just can't do it. I even tried Jiffy once. It just wasn't the same.
Ketchup - Heinz. I can make barbecue sauce with the cheap stuff, but for my burgers and fries, dudes, it HAS to be Heinz.
Soda - Gotta be Coke, Diet Coke and Dr. Pepper. (Brian, I agree, that Dr. Thunder is just wrong, man.) We don't do Pepsi either. *shudder*
Deodorant - Secret Platinum Protection Shower Fresh. You just don't mess with perfection. When you find something that works and doesn't smell like sweaty flowers, you stick with it.
Body wash - I use only Bath and Body Works shower gel. The kids use only Johnson's Soft Wash. (Mr. Diva isn't picky. Dial, Irish Spring, Lever 2000, heck, I bring home motel bars and he's okay with those, too.)
Hand soap - Again, only B&BW. Antibacterial, foaming, smelly-good - we use 'em all, but they all come from B&BW.
Toothpaste - Colgate. Plain ol' Colgate. I don't like to brush my teeth with vanilla or bubble gum or anything that tastes like something I might sit down to a table and eat. I like to be minty fresh when I'm done brushing. And I tried the Equate that is "comparable to Colgate" once. I gagged and spit and threw the tube in the trash before any other family member got hold of it. That was a whole .78 wasted. It was nas-ty.
Dog food - Pedigree. We had a blue heeler years ago that suddenly got really sick and lethargic. We thought he had worms, so I hauled him to the vet one day. Turns out the poor fella was suffering from malnutrition. We were feeding him Ol' Roy from Wal*Mart. The vet said that's like feeding a dog flavored sawdust. He recommended Eukanuba or Iam's and I said, "Well, what can a working person feed their dog?" He laughed and said Pedigree was the best you could get that, at that time, wasn't from a vet. Now our Jake gets Pedigree with "crunchy nuggets." Yum.
My underwear and bras - I will only buy them at Lane Bryant. Fat chicks have a really hard time finding a bra that fits good and this fat chick found her perfect bra at Lane Bryant. God-light from heaven shone down upon that rack on the back wall and a voice said, "Go and partake of these bras, my child. You shall be comfortable from this day forth." I could probably buy Wal*Mart panties, but the ones at Lane Bryant match my bras and y'all know I'm a bit compulsive about them matching. It just saves my brain from freaking out knowing that my bra is a different shade of blue than my panties.
Toilet Paper - Quilted Northern. Anything else gives me a rash. Quit laughing. I'm serious! When I stay in a motel I have to take my own toilet paper. What can I say, I have a sensitive cooter. When we were having septic problems the plumber suggested Scot tissue. I walked around miserable for a week before I said, "Screw the pipes" and bought a 24 pack of Northern.
Tomato soup - Campbell's. Only Campbell's. I can fudge a bit on the other kinds, but not my tomato soup.
I have a few choice brands and will waver a bit:
Paper towels - I got back and forth between Brawny and some generic at Wal*Mart. But I won't use Sparkle paper towels - they smell like dirty butts when you get them wet. Ask my sister - she thinks so, too.
Shampoo - I got back and forth between Thermasilk for curls and Pantene for curls. I used to use something from the salon, but then I had child #3 and I gave up my expensive hair stuff. That's probably why I always look like Phyllis Diller these days.
Cottage cheese - Borden's or Hiland. Anything else has a funny taste to it. Cottage cheese is a delicate food as it is - you can't have sub-standard curdled milk, ya know.
Dish Soap - Dawn or Palmolive. Whatever's cheapest when I need it.
Dishwasher Detergent - Electrasol or Palmolive. As long as it's not lemon, I'm not too picky. The store brand is crap, though.
I could care less:
Milk - Generic is fine with me. I don't drink the nasty stuff and no one else in the house cares.
Sugar - Whatever's cheapest.
Tea - You'd think as much sweet tea as I drink I'd be a Luzianne or Lipton-only kind of gal, but truthfully, I like the generic just as well. It's tea, not rocket science.
Bread - It's bread. If it's white and squishy and sticks to the roof of your mouth when you take a big bite, we'll eat it in this house. White bread is bad for you anyway, why pick a more expensive brand to gum up your intestines?
Cream of anything soup - Hey, I don't actually like eat a bowl of that nasty glue-looking shit. I just stick it in casseroles. I'd rather stick a .50 can in my chicken casserole then a .98 can.
Cereal - The big $1.97 bulk bag of CocoRoos make my kids just as happy as the $4.50 box of CocoPuffs. As long as they are ingesting sugar-laden balls of chocolate-flavored puffed corn, they don't really care if it's a box or a bag. The big $1.97 bulk bag of CocoRoos makes Momma happier and ultimately, that's more important.
Syrup - Aunt Jemima, you're cute and all with your little bandana and oh Mrs. Butterworth your 80's commercials were mesmerizing, but I'm sorry - you ladies are just a bit too expensive. Maple-flavored corn syrup shouldn't cost $4 a bottle. Sorry. The $1.35 generic tastes just fine on my Eggo waffles.
It's gotta be this brand or I'll do without:
Laundry Detergent - Tide Clean Breeze. Once, when Mr. Diva and I were first married and broke, one of the warehouse grocery stores in town had Surf for like, $4 a gargantuan box, so I bought some because if I'm not mistaken, we only had about $5 that week and no clean clothes. Mr. Diva put on that first Surf-laundered shirt and promptly broke out from head to toe. We've used nothing but Tide since. I did go from Original scent to Mountain Spring a few years ago and then when they came out with Clean Breeze I switched over. I live in fear that they will discontinue my scent.
Fabric Softener - Downy Clean Breeze. Hey, it matches my Tide. I was out awhile back and Mom gave me a box of Bounce. Then all of my laundry smelled like Mom's. Not that that's a bad thing, I just like my laundry to smell like well, my laundry.
Bleach - Clorox. I don't like cheap bleach.
Shortening - Crisco. We get generic shortening when we get our monthly alottment of Free Cheese, and I use it to grease pans and stuff, but when it comes to actual baking, it's gotta be Crisco. Loretta Lynn knows her shortening, I gotta give it to the ol' gal. I used the generic once when I made decorator icing and it separated and was nasty-looking. Mom clicked her tongue and said, "Didn't use Crisco, did you?" Then like a wise product sage, pulled a can of Crisco from her cabinet and handed it to me. "Never use anything but Crisco from now on, dear." And I haven't. It was a bonding moment, a passing down of the shortening torch.
Salt - Morton's. I don't really know why. Mom said that Memaw always used Morton's and Mom has always used Morton's, so I do, too.
Waffles - Eggo. Those Great Value Wal*Mart waffles are disgusting.
Chips - We only buy Lay's KC Masterpiece BBQ chips, Cheetos, Ruffles, Pringles and Doritos. I can't handle a wanna-be chip or cheese puff.
Peanut butter - Peter Pan. I cannot eat anything else. My throat locks up and I gag. The kids would eat peanuts that had been run over by a truck on their PB&J, but I just can't do it. I even tried Jiffy once. It just wasn't the same.
Ketchup - Heinz. I can make barbecue sauce with the cheap stuff, but for my burgers and fries, dudes, it HAS to be Heinz.
Soda - Gotta be Coke, Diet Coke and Dr. Pepper. (Brian, I agree, that Dr. Thunder is just wrong, man.) We don't do Pepsi either. *shudder*
Deodorant - Secret Platinum Protection Shower Fresh. You just don't mess with perfection. When you find something that works and doesn't smell like sweaty flowers, you stick with it.
Body wash - I use only Bath and Body Works shower gel. The kids use only Johnson's Soft Wash. (Mr. Diva isn't picky. Dial, Irish Spring, Lever 2000, heck, I bring home motel bars and he's okay with those, too.)
Hand soap - Again, only B&BW. Antibacterial, foaming, smelly-good - we use 'em all, but they all come from B&BW.
Toothpaste - Colgate. Plain ol' Colgate. I don't like to brush my teeth with vanilla or bubble gum or anything that tastes like something I might sit down to a table and eat. I like to be minty fresh when I'm done brushing. And I tried the Equate that is "comparable to Colgate" once. I gagged and spit and threw the tube in the trash before any other family member got hold of it. That was a whole .78 wasted. It was nas-ty.
Dog food - Pedigree. We had a blue heeler years ago that suddenly got really sick and lethargic. We thought he had worms, so I hauled him to the vet one day. Turns out the poor fella was suffering from malnutrition. We were feeding him Ol' Roy from Wal*Mart. The vet said that's like feeding a dog flavored sawdust. He recommended Eukanuba or Iam's and I said, "Well, what can a working person feed their dog?" He laughed and said Pedigree was the best you could get that, at that time, wasn't from a vet. Now our Jake gets Pedigree with "crunchy nuggets." Yum.
My underwear and bras - I will only buy them at Lane Bryant. Fat chicks have a really hard time finding a bra that fits good and this fat chick found her perfect bra at Lane Bryant. God-light from heaven shone down upon that rack on the back wall and a voice said, "Go and partake of these bras, my child. You shall be comfortable from this day forth." I could probably buy Wal*Mart panties, but the ones at Lane Bryant match my bras and y'all know I'm a bit compulsive about them matching. It just saves my brain from freaking out knowing that my bra is a different shade of blue than my panties.
Toilet Paper - Quilted Northern. Anything else gives me a rash. Quit laughing. I'm serious! When I stay in a motel I have to take my own toilet paper. What can I say, I have a sensitive cooter. When we were having septic problems the plumber suggested Scot tissue. I walked around miserable for a week before I said, "Screw the pipes" and bought a 24 pack of Northern.
Tomato soup - Campbell's. Only Campbell's. I can fudge a bit on the other kinds, but not my tomato soup.
I have a few choice brands and will waver a bit:
Paper towels - I got back and forth between Brawny and some generic at Wal*Mart. But I won't use Sparkle paper towels - they smell like dirty butts when you get them wet. Ask my sister - she thinks so, too.
Shampoo - I got back and forth between Thermasilk for curls and Pantene for curls. I used to use something from the salon, but then I had child #3 and I gave up my expensive hair stuff. That's probably why I always look like Phyllis Diller these days.
Cottage cheese - Borden's or Hiland. Anything else has a funny taste to it. Cottage cheese is a delicate food as it is - you can't have sub-standard curdled milk, ya know.
Dish Soap - Dawn or Palmolive. Whatever's cheapest when I need it.
Dishwasher Detergent - Electrasol or Palmolive. As long as it's not lemon, I'm not too picky. The store brand is crap, though.
I could care less:
Milk - Generic is fine with me. I don't drink the nasty stuff and no one else in the house cares.
Sugar - Whatever's cheapest.
Tea - You'd think as much sweet tea as I drink I'd be a Luzianne or Lipton-only kind of gal, but truthfully, I like the generic just as well. It's tea, not rocket science.
Bread - It's bread. If it's white and squishy and sticks to the roof of your mouth when you take a big bite, we'll eat it in this house. White bread is bad for you anyway, why pick a more expensive brand to gum up your intestines?
Cream of anything soup - Hey, I don't actually like eat a bowl of that nasty glue-looking shit. I just stick it in casseroles. I'd rather stick a .50 can in my chicken casserole then a .98 can.
Cereal - The big $1.97 bulk bag of CocoRoos make my kids just as happy as the $4.50 box of CocoPuffs. As long as they are ingesting sugar-laden balls of chocolate-flavored puffed corn, they don't really care if it's a box or a bag. The big $1.97 bulk bag of CocoRoos makes Momma happier and ultimately, that's more important.
Syrup - Aunt Jemima, you're cute and all with your little bandana and oh Mrs. Butterworth your 80's commercials were mesmerizing, but I'm sorry - you ladies are just a bit too expensive. Maple-flavored corn syrup shouldn't cost $4 a bottle. Sorry. The $1.35 generic tastes just fine on my Eggo waffles.
Friday, August 26, 2005
I so busy
If I suddenly start typing baby-talk, just go with it, okay?
I have Cute Little Baby again today!! And oh my gosh, he is one cute little baby. (And I'm not just saying that because his mommy reads my blog, lol.) He really is freakin' cute. Kady and I spend a lot of time just rubbing his fuzzy little round head.
Things are going so incredibly well that I just had to jump on here for a moment. I just wanted a connection with adults, even though it's completely one-sided and no one is actually going to talk back to me immediately. Mr. Diva's here, but well, that's just like talking to the kids.
Already today both Cute Babies have had a nap. Kady, Chandler and I watched Dora and 30 minutes of TickleU on Cartoon Network - that takes up our hour of TV today, but we really like TickleU. Kady and Chandler have done a tracing sheet with capital K's and C's. I have done one whole load of laundry. Cute Heavy Baby had his morning applesauce. Cute Little Baby had his bananas and cereal. The big kids and I have performed our version of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat for the babies, complete with jazz hands and go-go dancing. Now, Cute Little Baby is sitting at my feet rocking back and forth (No, Jennifer, I am NOT allowing him to crawl - he and I already had a lengthy discussion about that. He has agreed to stay immobile awhile longer. I didn't get it in writing however - he kept trying to eat the pen.) and Cute Heavy Baby is eat a Yu Gi Oh card. Oops, better get that. Okay...Yu Gi Oh card is now in trash. Thank goodness I made a huge pot of spaghetti last night for dinner so that lunch today is going to be simply reheating and serving. Then in a mere 45 minutes everyone will drift off into slumber . . . and I will do more laundry.
Btw, no derby tonight. He chickened out. He'd kill me if he knew I'd said he was a chicken, but the money wasn't an issue, neither was the time, so it must've been nerves. Pussy. I am SO kicking his ass in next month's derby. By golly, I'll make sure we both drive in it.
Okay, off the change a poopy diaper! I smell someone and it ain't me. I done checked.
I have Cute Little Baby again today!! And oh my gosh, he is one cute little baby. (And I'm not just saying that because his mommy reads my blog, lol.) He really is freakin' cute. Kady and I spend a lot of time just rubbing his fuzzy little round head.
Things are going so incredibly well that I just had to jump on here for a moment. I just wanted a connection with adults, even though it's completely one-sided and no one is actually going to talk back to me immediately. Mr. Diva's here, but well, that's just like talking to the kids.
Already today both Cute Babies have had a nap. Kady, Chandler and I watched Dora and 30 minutes of TickleU on Cartoon Network - that takes up our hour of TV today, but we really like TickleU. Kady and Chandler have done a tracing sheet with capital K's and C's. I have done one whole load of laundry. Cute Heavy Baby had his morning applesauce. Cute Little Baby had his bananas and cereal. The big kids and I have performed our version of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat for the babies, complete with jazz hands and go-go dancing. Now, Cute Little Baby is sitting at my feet rocking back and forth (No, Jennifer, I am NOT allowing him to crawl - he and I already had a lengthy discussion about that. He has agreed to stay immobile awhile longer. I didn't get it in writing however - he kept trying to eat the pen.) and Cute Heavy Baby is eat a Yu Gi Oh card. Oops, better get that. Okay...Yu Gi Oh card is now in trash. Thank goodness I made a huge pot of spaghetti last night for dinner so that lunch today is going to be simply reheating and serving. Then in a mere 45 minutes everyone will drift off into slumber . . . and I will do more laundry.
Btw, no derby tonight. He chickened out. He'd kill me if he knew I'd said he was a chicken, but the money wasn't an issue, neither was the time, so it must've been nerves. Pussy. I am SO kicking his ass in next month's derby. By golly, I'll make sure we both drive in it.
Okay, off the change a poopy diaper! I smell someone and it ain't me. I done checked.
Just wondering
Have any of y'all ever been in a situation where you have to write a letter/note to someone and you have to be all diplomatic and ass-kissy and nice and shit when all you want to do is call her an idiotic fuckhead?
Yeah. Me, too.
Yeah. Me, too.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Okay, okay, I'll do it already!
Irish Divinity tagged me and she and April both seem to think I'm the most likely to respond, so I guess that I must now fill out the meme. I think y'all know pretty much there is to know about me, but I'll play. I like talking about myself. Like you hadn't noticed.
1. First name? Kristin
2. Were you named after anyone? No.
3. Do you wish on stars? Yes. And probably always will.
4. When did you last cry? Day before yesterday when I finished the last Harry Potter book.
5. Do you like your handwriting? Yeah, pretty much. I can be sloppy when I'm in a hurry, but when I try it's pretty.
6. What is your favorite lunch meat? Shaved turkey from Nott's.
(I want to know where 7 and 8 are!)
9. If you were another person would you be friends with you? Heck yes! I'm awesome.
10. Do you have a journal? I blog, therefore I journal.
11. Do you use sarcasm a lot? Doesn't everyone answer this with some form of sarcasm?
12. Would you bungee jump? No way in hell.
13. What is your favorite cereal? Frosted freakin' flakes. If they are in the house I will eat them for every meal and a bedtime snack. They are like crack to me.
14. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? Yes. Except flipflops. I tried that once and it ruined 'em.
15. Do you think that you are strong? Physically, I have no arm strength whatsoever, but my legs are pretty strong. Emotionally and mentally I am freakin' Atlas.
16. What is your favorite ice cream flavor? Ben & Jerry's New York Super Fudge Chunk
17. Shoe Size? 9 1/2 or 10, depends on the shoe
18. Red or Pink? To decorate or paint something, pink. To wear, red.
19. What is your least favorite thing about yourself? As far as my personality I hate the fact that I cannot stand up to people. I have no spine. Physically - I got big butt and I can't deny.
20. Who do you miss most? Memaw
21. Do you want everyone you send this to, to send it back? I think it's time to retire this bad boy. Even I'm getting tired of it!
22. What color pants and shoes are you wearing? Denim capris
23. Last thing you ate? I hate to admit it, but I scarfed down an apple pie from McDonald's on the way home from karate.
24. What are you listening to right now? Mr. Diva is watching COPS or something and I can hear the sirens. And there's a cricket in my office.
25. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Diva Silver (Okay, so there is no diva silver, but I'm a diva so I can make one up if I want.)
26. Are you married, divorced, seperated, eternally engaged, or single? Married nearly 13 years
27. Any children? Yep. Abby, nearly 9 - Sam, nearly 6 1/2 - Kady, 3 1/2
28. Any grandchildren? Until one of my children hits puberty . . . oh hell, I don't even wanna think about that. Next question.
29. Who is LEAST LIKELY to respond to this? Please. Haven't we all already? No one is going to do this.
30. Who is MOST LIKELY to respond to this? Everyone seems to think it's me.
31. When is your birthday? January 21
32. What is your favorite kind of food? Mom's meatloaf, burned on purpose around the edges. Mmmmmm. With mashed potatoes and corn and brown and serve rolls. Ooh my stomach just growled.
33. What is your favorite restaurant? Applebee's
34. Favorite fast food? Schlotsky's
35. What is your MIDDLE name? Dawn
36. What kind of jewelry are you wearing NOW? My wedding ring, my mother's ring that isn't really a mother's ring since it has the whole fam damily in it, a toe ring on the second toe of my left foot and my silver chain bracelet.
37. Are you left handed or right handed? Right. If I try to use my left hand, my brain hurts.
38. What is the weather like where you live? It's Oklahoma. Therefore it's always hot and humid. Unless it's Christmas, then it's just hot.
39. What city and state do you live in? Miami, Oklahoma. Gosh, I hope Fitty isn't reading this.
40. Do you pray? You betcha. Otherwise I'd be insane. Oh wait, I am insane. Okay, but I still pray.
41. Any tattoos? Ladybug over my left breast, TinkerBell on my back and a yellow rose design on the top of my left foot. I have every intention in the next week or so to get my 4th - a cluster of 3 forget-me-nots, one for each of my kids, and a small unopened bud for the baby we lost.
42. Any piercings? Just my ears - three in one, two in the other.
Amen.
1. First name? Kristin
2. Were you named after anyone? No.
3. Do you wish on stars? Yes. And probably always will.
4. When did you last cry? Day before yesterday when I finished the last Harry Potter book.
5. Do you like your handwriting? Yeah, pretty much. I can be sloppy when I'm in a hurry, but when I try it's pretty.
6. What is your favorite lunch meat? Shaved turkey from Nott's.
(I want to know where 7 and 8 are!)
9. If you were another person would you be friends with you? Heck yes! I'm awesome.
10. Do you have a journal? I blog, therefore I journal.
11. Do you use sarcasm a lot? Doesn't everyone answer this with some form of sarcasm?
12. Would you bungee jump? No way in hell.
13. What is your favorite cereal? Frosted freakin' flakes. If they are in the house I will eat them for every meal and a bedtime snack. They are like crack to me.
14. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? Yes. Except flipflops. I tried that once and it ruined 'em.
15. Do you think that you are strong? Physically, I have no arm strength whatsoever, but my legs are pretty strong. Emotionally and mentally I am freakin' Atlas.
16. What is your favorite ice cream flavor? Ben & Jerry's New York Super Fudge Chunk
17. Shoe Size? 9 1/2 or 10, depends on the shoe
18. Red or Pink? To decorate or paint something, pink. To wear, red.
19. What is your least favorite thing about yourself? As far as my personality I hate the fact that I cannot stand up to people. I have no spine. Physically - I got big butt and I can't deny.
20. Who do you miss most? Memaw
21. Do you want everyone you send this to, to send it back? I think it's time to retire this bad boy. Even I'm getting tired of it!
22. What color pants and shoes are you wearing? Denim capris
23. Last thing you ate? I hate to admit it, but I scarfed down an apple pie from McDonald's on the way home from karate.
24. What are you listening to right now? Mr. Diva is watching COPS or something and I can hear the sirens. And there's a cricket in my office.
25. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Diva Silver (Okay, so there is no diva silver, but I'm a diva so I can make one up if I want.)
26. Are you married, divorced, seperated, eternally engaged, or single? Married nearly 13 years
27. Any children? Yep. Abby, nearly 9 - Sam, nearly 6 1/2 - Kady, 3 1/2
28. Any grandchildren? Until one of my children hits puberty . . . oh hell, I don't even wanna think about that. Next question.
29. Who is LEAST LIKELY to respond to this? Please. Haven't we all already? No one is going to do this.
30. Who is MOST LIKELY to respond to this? Everyone seems to think it's me.
31. When is your birthday? January 21
32. What is your favorite kind of food? Mom's meatloaf, burned on purpose around the edges. Mmmmmm. With mashed potatoes and corn and brown and serve rolls. Ooh my stomach just growled.
33. What is your favorite restaurant? Applebee's
34. Favorite fast food? Schlotsky's
35. What is your MIDDLE name? Dawn
36. What kind of jewelry are you wearing NOW? My wedding ring, my mother's ring that isn't really a mother's ring since it has the whole fam damily in it, a toe ring on the second toe of my left foot and my silver chain bracelet.
37. Are you left handed or right handed? Right. If I try to use my left hand, my brain hurts.
38. What is the weather like where you live? It's Oklahoma. Therefore it's always hot and humid. Unless it's Christmas, then it's just hot.
39. What city and state do you live in? Miami, Oklahoma. Gosh, I hope Fitty isn't reading this.
40. Do you pray? You betcha. Otherwise I'd be insane. Oh wait, I am insane. Okay, but I still pray.
41. Any tattoos? Ladybug over my left breast, TinkerBell on my back and a yellow rose design on the top of my left foot. I have every intention in the next week or so to get my 4th - a cluster of 3 forget-me-nots, one for each of my kids, and a small unopened bud for the baby we lost.
42. Any piercings? Just my ears - three in one, two in the other.
Amen.
There's nothing like the smell of livestock in the morning
Sis and I took Kady, Chandler and Cute Baby to the fair this morning.
We unloaded from the van, settled Cute Baby into the stroller where he promptly slid down to almost laying, threw one arm over the side of the stroller and gave us a look of contempt that said, "I am so much cooler than this stroller makes me look." Then we walked over to the barns. The dairy barn was the closest and we just headed for it. I kept hearing this clinking noise. We'd take a few steps and I'd hear the clinking. It was unusual, but I really didn't think much of it. Then Sis, out of the side of her mouth mumbled "That. Is. An. Inmate. An inmate is over there in chains picking up trash." Ahh...that's where the clinking was coming from - his ankles. She started walking faster, dragging poor Kady and Chandler behind her and I had to jog with the stroller to keep up. I guess she thought maybe Fitty might be out to visit his incarcerated homeboys or something.
Now, it was widely advertised that today was Kids' Day at the fair. Why on earth would you bring out a chain gang to pick up trash when you know that virtually every daycare in town, lots of local elementary schools and both Christian schools in town would be bringing buttloads of kids into the grounds?
So we hid in the dairy barn checking out the bottle/bucket calves and stepping in a lot of cow poo. Btw, Mrs. Coach's kids' posters look awesome. That Mrs. Coach is quite talented with her glitter. When the inmates were loaded back into their bus, chains a clinking as they went, we ventured back out into the fresh air. We went about 2 feet into the barn where the big cows were, but when we discovered that they were blowing water on the cows we opted to just skip that one. I had no desire to be sprayed with essence of cow.
Chandler has some chickens entered and we headed to the poultry barn to check them out. Thing was, he's three. He has no idea which chickens are his. He kept saying "I think that one might be mine. But it might not be. I dunno what it looks like, Kiki - it's a chicken!" He did have a point. I kept gagging at the smell of superheated poultry flavored air and finally I said, "Chan, dude, I'm sure the chickens are gorgeous and I'm proud of your ribbons and all, but if we don't leave Kiki is going to puke on a chicken and quite possibly that duck over there."
We skipped the hog barn. Superheated swine flavored air didn't really appeal to me either. We did check out the sheep, and the total highlight of that barn was the two goats who were headbutting. One backed the other into the corner of the pen and hit him real hard the goat pooed everywhere. You should've seen the look on Kady's face. Chandler jumped about 12 feet in the air.
We took the kids over to the mobile dairy and watched a guy milk a cow. Now, Papa had a dairy farm when we were kids, so I have seen more than my fair share of cows milked, but the kids hadn't and they were mesmerized by it.
Then we hit the exhibition building where the kids got a popsicle, we got a bag of goodies from our friend, Melissa, and her bank, the kids got their picture taken with the bank's "free bee", I got a free thermos thing just for having my electric with REC (I don't think she would've given me a cooler if she'd known that I'm late on my bill), I picked up a couple of gun locks in hopes that Paul will actually put them on the guns, the kids got a sheriff's badge sticker and then we left the building. By that time it was freakin' hot anyway.
I took some pictures and I'll post them tomorrow. Right now I have to load up two very hyper boys and take them to karate. Paul is staying home with the girls. Somehow I think I got the short end of this deal.
We unloaded from the van, settled Cute Baby into the stroller where he promptly slid down to almost laying, threw one arm over the side of the stroller and gave us a look of contempt that said, "I am so much cooler than this stroller makes me look." Then we walked over to the barns. The dairy barn was the closest and we just headed for it. I kept hearing this clinking noise. We'd take a few steps and I'd hear the clinking. It was unusual, but I really didn't think much of it. Then Sis, out of the side of her mouth mumbled "That. Is. An. Inmate. An inmate is over there in chains picking up trash." Ahh...that's where the clinking was coming from - his ankles. She started walking faster, dragging poor Kady and Chandler behind her and I had to jog with the stroller to keep up. I guess she thought maybe Fitty might be out to visit his incarcerated homeboys or something.
Now, it was widely advertised that today was Kids' Day at the fair. Why on earth would you bring out a chain gang to pick up trash when you know that virtually every daycare in town, lots of local elementary schools and both Christian schools in town would be bringing buttloads of kids into the grounds?
So we hid in the dairy barn checking out the bottle/bucket calves and stepping in a lot of cow poo. Btw, Mrs. Coach's kids' posters look awesome. That Mrs. Coach is quite talented with her glitter. When the inmates were loaded back into their bus, chains a clinking as they went, we ventured back out into the fresh air. We went about 2 feet into the barn where the big cows were, but when we discovered that they were blowing water on the cows we opted to just skip that one. I had no desire to be sprayed with essence of cow.
Chandler has some chickens entered and we headed to the poultry barn to check them out. Thing was, he's three. He has no idea which chickens are his. He kept saying "I think that one might be mine. But it might not be. I dunno what it looks like, Kiki - it's a chicken!" He did have a point. I kept gagging at the smell of superheated poultry flavored air and finally I said, "Chan, dude, I'm sure the chickens are gorgeous and I'm proud of your ribbons and all, but if we don't leave Kiki is going to puke on a chicken and quite possibly that duck over there."
We skipped the hog barn. Superheated swine flavored air didn't really appeal to me either. We did check out the sheep, and the total highlight of that barn was the two goats who were headbutting. One backed the other into the corner of the pen and hit him real hard the goat pooed everywhere. You should've seen the look on Kady's face. Chandler jumped about 12 feet in the air.
We took the kids over to the mobile dairy and watched a guy milk a cow. Now, Papa had a dairy farm when we were kids, so I have seen more than my fair share of cows milked, but the kids hadn't and they were mesmerized by it.
Then we hit the exhibition building where the kids got a popsicle, we got a bag of goodies from our friend, Melissa, and her bank, the kids got their picture taken with the bank's "free bee", I got a free thermos thing just for having my electric with REC (I don't think she would've given me a cooler if she'd known that I'm late on my bill), I picked up a couple of gun locks in hopes that Paul will actually put them on the guns, the kids got a sheriff's badge sticker and then we left the building. By that time it was freakin' hot anyway.
I took some pictures and I'll post them tomorrow. Right now I have to load up two very hyper boys and take them to karate. Paul is staying home with the girls. Somehow I think I got the short end of this deal.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Okie Blogs
I just now discovered, while checking out the Okie Blog Awards page at Okie Doke, that Shannon from B's Mom is in the running for Best Family Blog!! Woot!! Go Shannon!
I have been nominated in four categories, myself: Best Overall Blog, Best Family Blog, Best Humor Blog, and Best Writing Blog. I am totally flabbergasted and honored that fellow Okies nominated me for these awards.
IF I had been a good Okie Blogger myself, I'd have nominated a few of my favorite Okie blogs, but alas, I squandered away the nomination period with such silly things as laundry and getting ready for Cute Baby and such. So, while it doesn't get you in the running, y'all are still my favorite Okies!!
----------------------
Of course, I'm very partial to Small Town Starlit. Cousin Courtney would've definitely been nominated by me. I love her stories of Kindergarten woes and victories, her awesome camper and her continual quest for stardom.
Magnet Lady and I graduated high school together. She had the best big bangs in the class back then. Now her hair is smaller and soon, her boobs will be, too! She makes some really awesome magnetic jewelry and if you have headaches, bone and joint pain or arthritis, she can fix you up with some kickin' jewelry that serves a purpose. She has a hot tub, too!
My BFF, Tiff, says "Welcome to My Life". She wasn't posting there for awhile, but she's back at it again and goin' strong!! Gosh, I miss her. She's got a bit of OCD goin' on, but we like her that way.
Irish Divinity is keeping us updated on her pregnancy. I love the way Stormie gets excited about Nascar! Although, I don't understand it, I certainly do admire her passion for it. She's also been to some awesome concerts, too.
Mrs. Coach is the Queen of Free Cheese, a talented Fair mom who has quite a flair for creating things with poster board and glitter and is soon to be my accomplice in a 55-gallon barrel adventure.
April is just funny. She also can scare the heck outta the blog community as a whole with her freaky HNT posts sometimes. I don't understand her penchant for Buffy, though.
Brian writes An Audience of One and is probably my most favoritest male Okie blogger ever. Brian is an amazing writer, incredibly intelligent and his posts are thought-provoking, deep and more than one has actually brought me to tears. You really need to check him out.
The Conversation Station is brought to you by the amazing Babs. She's a home schooling mom of two boys, she's an artist and her husband makes knives. Wow. What a family eh? She writes posts that make you think, make you ask questions, ask for your opinions and heck, she's not scared of tornadoes either!
Dave in Ardmore is a new one I've been reading. He's a college student, he hates dial-up and has a son who is a bit of an exhibitionist it seems. He's got a lot to say.
The Daily B*tch is a hoot and a half to read! I sincerely hope she's at the Round-Up next fall because I really want to meet her. Really. (I'm not a stalker and I don't own any 55-gallon barrels. Cross my heart.) She's the one that turned me on to the whole Googling yourself thing. She rocks.
And last, but by no means, least - Okie Doke!! *the crowd goes wild* I love Mike. Mike is cool. Mike rocks. Mike, you da man. He throws in Oklahoma news, editorial statements, utter nonsense and quite a bit of humor. He is also responsible for starting this whole Okie Blog Awards thing and is the mastermind behind the Okie Blogger Round-Up next year. Three cheers for Mike!
Now, if you're an Okie blogger, you can vote in the Okie Blog Awards. Betcha didn't know that, didya? Well, now you do. So all you Okies go over here and check out all the nominees. There's some good stuff out here in Oklahoma !!
I have been nominated in four categories, myself: Best Overall Blog, Best Family Blog, Best Humor Blog, and Best Writing Blog. I am totally flabbergasted and honored that fellow Okies nominated me for these awards.
IF I had been a good Okie Blogger myself, I'd have nominated a few of my favorite Okie blogs, but alas, I squandered away the nomination period with such silly things as laundry and getting ready for Cute Baby and such. So, while it doesn't get you in the running, y'all are still my favorite Okies!!
----------------------
Of course, I'm very partial to Small Town Starlit. Cousin Courtney would've definitely been nominated by me. I love her stories of Kindergarten woes and victories, her awesome camper and her continual quest for stardom.
Magnet Lady and I graduated high school together. She had the best big bangs in the class back then. Now her hair is smaller and soon, her boobs will be, too! She makes some really awesome magnetic jewelry and if you have headaches, bone and joint pain or arthritis, she can fix you up with some kickin' jewelry that serves a purpose. She has a hot tub, too!
My BFF, Tiff, says "Welcome to My Life". She wasn't posting there for awhile, but she's back at it again and goin' strong!! Gosh, I miss her. She's got a bit of OCD goin' on, but we like her that way.
Irish Divinity is keeping us updated on her pregnancy. I love the way Stormie gets excited about Nascar! Although, I don't understand it, I certainly do admire her passion for it. She's also been to some awesome concerts, too.
Mrs. Coach is the Queen of Free Cheese, a talented Fair mom who has quite a flair for creating things with poster board and glitter and is soon to be my accomplice in a 55-gallon barrel adventure.
April is just funny. She also can scare the heck outta the blog community as a whole with her freaky HNT posts sometimes. I don't understand her penchant for Buffy, though.
Brian writes An Audience of One and is probably my most favoritest male Okie blogger ever. Brian is an amazing writer, incredibly intelligent and his posts are thought-provoking, deep and more than one has actually brought me to tears. You really need to check him out.
The Conversation Station is brought to you by the amazing Babs. She's a home schooling mom of two boys, she's an artist and her husband makes knives. Wow. What a family eh? She writes posts that make you think, make you ask questions, ask for your opinions and heck, she's not scared of tornadoes either!
Dave in Ardmore is a new one I've been reading. He's a college student, he hates dial-up and has a son who is a bit of an exhibitionist it seems. He's got a lot to say.
The Daily B*tch is a hoot and a half to read! I sincerely hope she's at the Round-Up next fall because I really want to meet her. Really. (I'm not a stalker and I don't own any 55-gallon barrels. Cross my heart.) She's the one that turned me on to the whole Googling yourself thing. She rocks.
And last, but by no means, least - Okie Doke!! *the crowd goes wild* I love Mike. Mike is cool. Mike rocks. Mike, you da man. He throws in Oklahoma news, editorial statements, utter nonsense and quite a bit of humor. He is also responsible for starting this whole Okie Blog Awards thing and is the mastermind behind the Okie Blogger Round-Up next year. Three cheers for Mike!
Now, if you're an Okie blogger, you can vote in the Okie Blog Awards. Betcha didn't know that, didya? Well, now you do. So all you Okies go over here and check out all the nominees. There's some good stuff out here in Oklahoma !!
Whiney Wednesday
* I have boogers. Lots of boogers. Of my very own. Don't even need the kids to provide them for me today. Allergies suck.
* Chandler doesn't have boogers, but he has lots of snot. And I just can't convince him that using a kleenex is far better than wiping his nose on Kady's stuffed cat which he has done approximately 40 gazillion times today. It makes Kady just shriek. Poor guy. I've a notion to just clothespin a hankie to his nose or something. It'd save me from have to watch him lick his snot and save him from getting his ear drums ruptured every time Kady sees him desecrating ol' Chip.
* Kady has snot, too. Fortunately she has mastered the art of obsessively wiping her nose. So much so that she's gone through a LOT of kleenexes today. And while she has got the whole wiping of the nose thing down, she kind of forgets that they go into the trashcan after they are full of snot.
* I have a zit in that spot where your nose attaches to your face. Man those HURT.
* I need to wash my hair when the kids lie down for naps, but I'm thinking that right now, the way I feel, I'm just going to lie down, too.
* I need a table for my office, but I can't seem to find one. I got a kickin' record player and have no place to set it so I can listen to my John Denver and Carpenter's records.
* I just admitted to y'all that I have John Denver and Carpenter's records.
* Cute Baby has just discovered that when he slams the computer armoire's door into my knee repeatedly it makes a cool thumping noise. He thinks it's hilarious. I, not so much. He slams it into my knee, I say "Ow", he giggles, claps his hands and says "Ow" back to me.
* My children have eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner three nights in an row. I should probably cook soon. I wasn't even sick when I started the pb&j thing - just lazy. Now that I'm actually sick, I'm going to have to cook.
* My laundry was all caught up yesterday. I just went back and dug out three loads from the hamper. I think we should all become nudists.
* I finished the latest Harry Potter book yesterday. I cried.
That's it. I'm done whining for now. I need more drugs. I think the children do, too.
* Chandler doesn't have boogers, but he has lots of snot. And I just can't convince him that using a kleenex is far better than wiping his nose on Kady's stuffed cat which he has done approximately 40 gazillion times today. It makes Kady just shriek. Poor guy. I've a notion to just clothespin a hankie to his nose or something. It'd save me from have to watch him lick his snot and save him from getting his ear drums ruptured every time Kady sees him desecrating ol' Chip.
* Kady has snot, too. Fortunately she has mastered the art of obsessively wiping her nose. So much so that she's gone through a LOT of kleenexes today. And while she has got the whole wiping of the nose thing down, she kind of forgets that they go into the trashcan after they are full of snot.
* I have a zit in that spot where your nose attaches to your face. Man those HURT.
* I need to wash my hair when the kids lie down for naps, but I'm thinking that right now, the way I feel, I'm just going to lie down, too.
* I need a table for my office, but I can't seem to find one. I got a kickin' record player and have no place to set it so I can listen to my John Denver and Carpenter's records.
* I just admitted to y'all that I have John Denver and Carpenter's records.
* Cute Baby has just discovered that when he slams the computer armoire's door into my knee repeatedly it makes a cool thumping noise. He thinks it's hilarious. I, not so much. He slams it into my knee, I say "Ow", he giggles, claps his hands and says "Ow" back to me.
* My children have eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner three nights in an row. I should probably cook soon. I wasn't even sick when I started the pb&j thing - just lazy. Now that I'm actually sick, I'm going to have to cook.
* My laundry was all caught up yesterday. I just went back and dug out three loads from the hamper. I think we should all become nudists.
* I finished the latest Harry Potter book yesterday. I cried.
That's it. I'm done whining for now. I need more drugs. I think the children do, too.
It has been decided. Shalom.
Mr. Diva will be the driver reprezentin' the Diva clan on Friday.
I mulled it over all day yesterday and just couldn't decide what I wanted to do. When he got home from work, he looked so tired. I asked if he was going to the shop to work on the car or what. He sighed and said, "Yeah. I guess." He called Andy to see if he could help him work on it. I know darn good and well that he was only doing it for me. He was so tired that if he'd been doing it for himself he'd have stayed in that recliner. So he gathered up some casino clothes (last night was Men's Night) and prepared to go back to town to the shop.
I told him to sit down, I wanted to talk to him. I told him I wanted him to drive Friday night and that I'd rather sit in the pits with the kids and watch him. He looked at me and grinned and said, "You want me to? Oh you are such a liar." I explained that really I wasn't confident enough in the car yet, we didn't have a sitter for the kids and I totally handle them better in situations like that. I mean, he's my pit guy, his focus is on me when I'm driving. The last thing he'd need is three kids to keep an eye on as well. If he's driving I am SO not a pit chick. So he sat there quiet for a minute, shot me a sidelong glance and then just gave me the biggest smile ever and said, "Wellllll . . . if you insist."
Gosh, hon, don't make me twist your arm or anything.
He jumped on the phone again and called Richie to see if he could pit for him. He was so excited. I'm glad I gave this one to him.
He works the late shift tonight, so he really can't work on it after work, but tomorrow he has the early shift and then he's off all day on Friday. There's really very little that needs to be done and since he's driving it's not going to be painted titty pink, so it won't need painted. I think we can pull it together. Ha. I say "we" like I have anything remotely to do with it. I have a pretty insignifigant role in this one - I will just sit in the stands and shovel funnel cakes, snow cones and soda into my children while their father willingly gets smashed repeatedly.
Plus - he won enough money last night at the Big Fancy Casino to cover all of his derby costs and now I can take MY money and go get a tattoo!!
It's gonna be a perfect redneck weekend.
I mulled it over all day yesterday and just couldn't decide what I wanted to do. When he got home from work, he looked so tired. I asked if he was going to the shop to work on the car or what. He sighed and said, "Yeah. I guess." He called Andy to see if he could help him work on it. I know darn good and well that he was only doing it for me. He was so tired that if he'd been doing it for himself he'd have stayed in that recliner. So he gathered up some casino clothes (last night was Men's Night) and prepared to go back to town to the shop.
I told him to sit down, I wanted to talk to him. I told him I wanted him to drive Friday night and that I'd rather sit in the pits with the kids and watch him. He looked at me and grinned and said, "You want me to? Oh you are such a liar." I explained that really I wasn't confident enough in the car yet, we didn't have a sitter for the kids and I totally handle them better in situations like that. I mean, he's my pit guy, his focus is on me when I'm driving. The last thing he'd need is three kids to keep an eye on as well. If he's driving I am SO not a pit chick. So he sat there quiet for a minute, shot me a sidelong glance and then just gave me the biggest smile ever and said, "Wellllll . . . if you insist."
Gosh, hon, don't make me twist your arm or anything.
He jumped on the phone again and called Richie to see if he could pit for him. He was so excited. I'm glad I gave this one to him.
He works the late shift tonight, so he really can't work on it after work, but tomorrow he has the early shift and then he's off all day on Friday. There's really very little that needs to be done and since he's driving it's not going to be painted titty pink, so it won't need painted. I think we can pull it together. Ha. I say "we" like I have anything remotely to do with it. I have a pretty insignifigant role in this one - I will just sit in the stands and shovel funnel cakes, snow cones and soda into my children while their father willingly gets smashed repeatedly.
Plus - he won enough money last night at the Big Fancy Casino to cover all of his derby costs and now I can take MY money and go get a tattoo!!
It's gonna be a perfect redneck weekend.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Poor, poor Sis
Yesterday she felt up GG.
Today she saw her naked.
I fear the woman is now scarred for life. Sis, not GG.
She took Papa and GG to Joplin this morning to admit GG. It was her understanding that she was simply driving them up there, getting GG settled and then bringing Papa back home. But oh no. It seems octogenarians don't care what they have told you in previous conversations. They just change their plans and whims at will. God love 'em.
Papa went to lunch first in the hospital cafeteria. When he came back up after an hour and a half later and told Sis that they were serving prime rib and oh how delicious it was so she grabbed her purse and headed down there to discover that they had closed the cafeteria 15 minutes before he had even left it! So she ate something from a vending machine.
When the nurse told GG to get into a gown Sis said, "Okay, well I'll just wait out in the hall while you change," and tried to bolt out the door, but instead GG said, "NO! I need some help!" Sis looked at Papa thinking that since he married the woman that surely he would be the one to help her change, but no...he was conveniently looking out the window and ignored them both.
She called me later this afternoon and I asked how the day had gone, knowing that it hadn't been great from the phone calls I'd gotten from Bub and Mom telling me that Papa didn't bring any of her meds with them because in his mind she wouldn't need them - she was in the hospital for cryin' out loud. She sighed and said, "Oh I SO did not sign on for what I endured today!" I said, "Oh hon, I'm so sorry. I heard it was a bit of a mess with the meds and all." She said, "OH! NO! The meds were the least of it. I. Saw. Her. NAKED!! I touched her pee. I touched old lady pee!" I said, "Oooh you actually saw the waist boobs today?" She sighed again and said, "Oh I wish it had only been the boobs."
I tried not to laugh. Really I did. And I know that I'm going to pay for the laughter someday like when I have to see my mother in law naked or give her a suppository or something, but I just couldn't help it. I just couldn't.
Later my phone rang and y'all know I don't answer my phone without the caller actually speaking to my answering machine. I waited for the beep and then I heard my mother speaking in a small, frail-sounding voice say, "I'm old and I'm naked and I need some help getting dressed...can you help me?" Mr. Diva was sitting at the table eating a sandwich. He got the strangest look on his face. I grabbed that phone off the hook and said, "Oh I'm sorry. You must be looking for my sister."
Today she saw her naked.
I fear the woman is now scarred for life. Sis, not GG.
She took Papa and GG to Joplin this morning to admit GG. It was her understanding that she was simply driving them up there, getting GG settled and then bringing Papa back home. But oh no. It seems octogenarians don't care what they have told you in previous conversations. They just change their plans and whims at will. God love 'em.
Papa went to lunch first in the hospital cafeteria. When he came back up after an hour and a half later and told Sis that they were serving prime rib and oh how delicious it was so she grabbed her purse and headed down there to discover that they had closed the cafeteria 15 minutes before he had even left it! So she ate something from a vending machine.
When the nurse told GG to get into a gown Sis said, "Okay, well I'll just wait out in the hall while you change," and tried to bolt out the door, but instead GG said, "NO! I need some help!" Sis looked at Papa thinking that since he married the woman that surely he would be the one to help her change, but no...he was conveniently looking out the window and ignored them both.
She called me later this afternoon and I asked how the day had gone, knowing that it hadn't been great from the phone calls I'd gotten from Bub and Mom telling me that Papa didn't bring any of her meds with them because in his mind she wouldn't need them - she was in the hospital for cryin' out loud. She sighed and said, "Oh I SO did not sign on for what I endured today!" I said, "Oh hon, I'm so sorry. I heard it was a bit of a mess with the meds and all." She said, "OH! NO! The meds were the least of it. I. Saw. Her. NAKED!! I touched her pee. I touched old lady pee!" I said, "Oooh you actually saw the waist boobs today?" She sighed again and said, "Oh I wish it had only been the boobs."
I tried not to laugh. Really I did. And I know that I'm going to pay for the laughter someday like when I have to see my mother in law naked or give her a suppository or something, but I just couldn't help it. I just couldn't.
Later my phone rang and y'all know I don't answer my phone without the caller actually speaking to my answering machine. I waited for the beep and then I heard my mother speaking in a small, frail-sounding voice say, "I'm old and I'm naked and I need some help getting dressed...can you help me?" Mr. Diva was sitting at the table eating a sandwich. He got the strangest look on his face. I grabbed that phone off the hook and said, "Oh I'm sorry. You must be looking for my sister."
Quandry
I won enough money last night at Ladies' Night that I can now forge ahead with my Demolition Derby plans for Friday night.
I have a car. My darling friend, Andy, oh so generously provided me with one.
Here's the problem - it's a standard. I don't drive a standard very well. Especially not well enough to head out into a dirt arena and then attempt to avoid demolition and in the process do some demolishing of my own.
But I really wanna play crash-up with the boys Friday night!!!
If I had some time - like more than 3 days - to practice, I might be okay, but seeing as how I actually really only have 3 days, I'm thinking it's a disaster waiting to happen. Not to mention a waste of my money.
There is another derby on the 17th of September. I thinking at this point I'm going to just be really nice and let Mr. Diva drive this Friday since he already knows how to drive a standard quite well and he's absolutely faunching at the bit to drive. He's a derby virgin ya know. Then I can spend the next three weeks looking for another car or at least practicing on this one. Or I could just chance it and drive this weekend.
I'm so torn.
I have a car. My darling friend, Andy, oh so generously provided me with one.
Here's the problem - it's a standard. I don't drive a standard very well. Especially not well enough to head out into a dirt arena and then attempt to avoid demolition and in the process do some demolishing of my own.
But I really wanna play crash-up with the boys Friday night!!!
If I had some time - like more than 3 days - to practice, I might be okay, but seeing as how I actually really only have 3 days, I'm thinking it's a disaster waiting to happen. Not to mention a waste of my money.
There is another derby on the 17th of September. I thinking at this point I'm going to just be really nice and let Mr. Diva drive this Friday since he already knows how to drive a standard quite well and he's absolutely faunching at the bit to drive. He's a derby virgin ya know. Then I can spend the next three weeks looking for another car or at least practicing on this one. Or I could just chance it and drive this weekend.
I'm so torn.
T3
Top Ten Lines Used Either By Me or On Me with the Sincere Hopes of Getting Laid
1. On me - "You have inviting shoulders."
I totally kid you not on this one. I was 18, living in Stillwater and had worn a cami top with my ultra tight-fittin' Rockies to the cowboy bar (Back when I was skinny) and this really drunk like 50 year old guy was so hitting on me and I was so not takin' the bait. Then he leaned down and breathed really nasty on my shoulder, ran a finger down my arm and told me I had inviting shoulders. I just wanted to know what he thought they were inviting him to do.
2. On me - "So you wanna see the back seat of my new car?"
Nope not kidding on this one either. 16 year olds are pretty unimaginative.
3. By me - "Oh I'd love to see your apartment! Ooh and it has a bedroom?"
Yeah. Turns out 18 year old girls are sometimes unimaginative as well.
4. On me - "If I buy you a pitcher of beer, will you come back to my place?"
He bought the beer. I didn't go to his place. I was such a bitch back then.
5. On me - "Your name's Kris? Hey! My name's Chris, too?"
And even after I told him my name was Kristin and not just Kris, he still kept on with the whole name correlation thing. My roommate's boyfriend ended up escorting the dude out of the apartment.
6. By me - "You know what, I really don't care if you have a girlfriend. It's not like I know her or anything."
Ooh I was bordering on skank here. I'm kind of embarrassed about this one.
7. By me - "You're a fireman? I'm a sucker for a man in uniform."
Well? I am!
8. On me - "If I said you had a beautiful body would you hold it against me?"
Yes, it's also a really bad Bellamy Brother's song, but this poor fella that had a HUGE crush on me in high school actually walked up to me in Drama one day and asked me that. I said, "Hon. Really. You know the answer is no." He shrugged and said, "Yeah, I know. But I have to keep asking." Poor guy.
9. On me - "Wanna play lion? You go lay in the floor and I'll throw the meat to ya."
We heard this one originally by a friend of some friends one night at a party. He was drunk and he asked his wife that. Really loudly. So then of course, it was adopted by Mr. Diva. He thinks he's clever. All it ever does is make me roll my eyes and throw a pillow or something at him.
10. By me - "I haven't gotten laid in a year. Help a guy out, will ya?"
I not only helped him out, I married him 3 months later. What? He was cute!
1. On me - "You have inviting shoulders."
I totally kid you not on this one. I was 18, living in Stillwater and had worn a cami top with my ultra tight-fittin' Rockies to the cowboy bar (Back when I was skinny) and this really drunk like 50 year old guy was so hitting on me and I was so not takin' the bait. Then he leaned down and breathed really nasty on my shoulder, ran a finger down my arm and told me I had inviting shoulders. I just wanted to know what he thought they were inviting him to do.
2. On me - "So you wanna see the back seat of my new car?"
Nope not kidding on this one either. 16 year olds are pretty unimaginative.
3. By me - "Oh I'd love to see your apartment! Ooh and it has a bedroom?"
Yeah. Turns out 18 year old girls are sometimes unimaginative as well.
4. On me - "If I buy you a pitcher of beer, will you come back to my place?"
He bought the beer. I didn't go to his place. I was such a bitch back then.
5. On me - "Your name's Kris? Hey! My name's Chris, too?"
And even after I told him my name was Kristin and not just Kris, he still kept on with the whole name correlation thing. My roommate's boyfriend ended up escorting the dude out of the apartment.
6. By me - "You know what, I really don't care if you have a girlfriend. It's not like I know her or anything."
Ooh I was bordering on skank here. I'm kind of embarrassed about this one.
7. By me - "You're a fireman? I'm a sucker for a man in uniform."
Well? I am!
8. On me - "If I said you had a beautiful body would you hold it against me?"
Yes, it's also a really bad Bellamy Brother's song, but this poor fella that had a HUGE crush on me in high school actually walked up to me in Drama one day and asked me that. I said, "Hon. Really. You know the answer is no." He shrugged and said, "Yeah, I know. But I have to keep asking." Poor guy.
9. On me - "Wanna play lion? You go lay in the floor and I'll throw the meat to ya."
We heard this one originally by a friend of some friends one night at a party. He was drunk and he asked his wife that. Really loudly. So then of course, it was adopted by Mr. Diva. He thinks he's clever. All it ever does is make me roll my eyes and throw a pillow or something at him.
10. By me - "I haven't gotten laid in a year. Help a guy out, will ya?"
I not only helped him out, I married him 3 months later. What? He was cute!
Monday, August 22, 2005
Coppin' a feel
I mentioned in last Wednesday's whine that my step-grandmother is a little well, cuckoo on her meds right now. Sis and I have done our homework on the meds and interactions and possible side-effects. Then Sis, armed with her newfound information, went with Papa and GG to the doctor today. Talk about confusion. She has a regular doctor and a cardiologist and these two men work in the same building, hell they even share an office, yet neither of them have talked to the other about her, her condition or anything. My personal opinion is that the regular doctor is a total moron and should not be allowed to practice medicine anywhere ever again and upon learning that the heart doctor is working out of Dr. Moron's office, I'm wondering about him as well. Btw, my opinion of Dr. Moron isn't formed out of just this experience - I've been forming this opinion for years.
So today Dr. Heart decides he wants to admit GG to the hospital for a few days to tweak around on her meds, observe her and do some tests. I think it's a good idea. I just wish all of the doctors involved would get to communicatin'.
They finished up the appointment and drove back to Papa's house where Heather began helping GG up the front steps. GG started to fall and Heather wasn't in a position where she could grab her arm and steady her, so from behind she just wrapped her arm around GG's waist to catch her.
And she grabbed GG's boob.
Notice I said she "wrapped her arm around GG's waist."
Yeah.
*shudder*
She was standing in my kitchen telling me about it with such a helpless look on her face and all I could do was laugh. She said, "I just can't get old. I just can't." I just patted her arm and offered her a cookie. I comfort with food, what can I say. She went on, "Well, I didn't realize at first that I'd grabbed it. I just thought I'd grabbed her belly. It wasn't firm and felt just like squishy skin. It wasn't until later that I realized, 'Yeah, I just touched my grandmother's breast.'"
So today Dr. Heart decides he wants to admit GG to the hospital for a few days to tweak around on her meds, observe her and do some tests. I think it's a good idea. I just wish all of the doctors involved would get to communicatin'.
They finished up the appointment and drove back to Papa's house where Heather began helping GG up the front steps. GG started to fall and Heather wasn't in a position where she could grab her arm and steady her, so from behind she just wrapped her arm around GG's waist to catch her.
And she grabbed GG's boob.
Notice I said she "wrapped her arm around GG's waist."
Yeah.
*shudder*
She was standing in my kitchen telling me about it with such a helpless look on her face and all I could do was laugh. She said, "I just can't get old. I just can't." I just patted her arm and offered her a cookie. I comfort with food, what can I say. She went on, "Well, I didn't realize at first that I'd grabbed it. I just thought I'd grabbed her belly. It wasn't firm and felt just like squishy skin. It wasn't until later that I realized, 'Yeah, I just touched my grandmother's breast.'"
My very own lizard
Okay, so this morning I was reading Sam's Stories and it seems she has her own critter problems. No, it's not just Babs and Karen and me - Sam has her own varmints to reckon with. And seeing her "friend" reminded me of one of my own friends of like repitlian heritage.
I posted this on my Tripod blog back in October last year:
"Okay, first of all take a look at what I found in my bedroom floor this morning: Now I'm not sure yet as to whether one of the kids was playing with it last night and it just got left there or whether a certain husband that I live with planted the reptilian decoy to scare his charming, albeit a little edgy, wife. I will find out, though. Trust me on this one. For those of you who are just joining in on my adventures, there is a lizard living in my bedroom somewhere. No, he's not a pet, he just decided to take up residence here. I do not like the lizard. I actually can say I loathe the lizard. He's harmless, but still...it's a freaking LIZARD people! I have set out numerous sticky traps, but he's obviously a smart lizard and won't go near 'em. So anyway, I discovered the fake lizard belly-up this morning when I....btw, have I mentioned before that I am a clutz? Keep this fact in mind while you read... Okay, so I'm walking from my bedroom to the utility room and on the way I had to walk by a box that was covered in wire hangers (I've been cleaning out closets). As I walked by, the hem of my nightshirt caught on one of these hangers, thereby causing the kerfuffle. Imagine, if you will, me walking along, dragging a growing chain of wire hangers with my nightshirt. Have you ever put scotch tape on a cat's paws and watched them have a seizure as they try to flick it off? Well, that's kind of what I'm sure I looked like this morning, shaking my leg and trying to release the offending damn hangers. FInally I got it to let go and as I bent down to gather up the mess my eyes locked on the stupid plastic lizard. Oh the screaming. Almost as loud as when I first discovered the real lizard - you know, the time he actually ended up under one of my bare feet and we were formally introduced. Yeah, that time. Of course, upon further investigation I realized he wasn't real, but still...agh, I hate lizards.
"And you know when I grabbed the camera to take a picture I thought, 'Ya know...what if he really is real and only sleeping or possibly playing lizard-possum and the flash of the camera wakes him up?'
"Well, I'll just answer my own question... You would have ended up reading a story about a lizard that drowned in pee.
"That, friends and neighbors, is the truth."
Looks as if we all have our demons.
I posted this on my Tripod blog back in October last year:
"Okay, first of all take a look at what I found in my bedroom floor this morning: Now I'm not sure yet as to whether one of the kids was playing with it last night and it just got left there or whether a certain husband that I live with planted the reptilian decoy to scare his charming, albeit a little edgy, wife. I will find out, though. Trust me on this one. For those of you who are just joining in on my adventures, there is a lizard living in my bedroom somewhere. No, he's not a pet, he just decided to take up residence here. I do not like the lizard. I actually can say I loathe the lizard. He's harmless, but still...it's a freaking LIZARD people! I have set out numerous sticky traps, but he's obviously a smart lizard and won't go near 'em. So anyway, I discovered the fake lizard belly-up this morning when I....btw, have I mentioned before that I am a clutz? Keep this fact in mind while you read... Okay, so I'm walking from my bedroom to the utility room and on the way I had to walk by a box that was covered in wire hangers (I've been cleaning out closets). As I walked by, the hem of my nightshirt caught on one of these hangers, thereby causing the kerfuffle. Imagine, if you will, me walking along, dragging a growing chain of wire hangers with my nightshirt. Have you ever put scotch tape on a cat's paws and watched them have a seizure as they try to flick it off? Well, that's kind of what I'm sure I looked like this morning, shaking my leg and trying to release the offending damn hangers. FInally I got it to let go and as I bent down to gather up the mess my eyes locked on the stupid plastic lizard. Oh the screaming. Almost as loud as when I first discovered the real lizard - you know, the time he actually ended up under one of my bare feet and we were formally introduced. Yeah, that time. Of course, upon further investigation I realized he wasn't real, but still...agh, I hate lizards.
"And you know when I grabbed the camera to take a picture I thought, 'Ya know...what if he really is real and only sleeping or possibly playing lizard-possum and the flash of the camera wakes him up?'
"Well, I'll just answer my own question... You would have ended up reading a story about a lizard that drowned in pee.
"That, friends and neighbors, is the truth."
Looks as if we all have our demons.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
My darling mother
My mom and I had another heated discussion this morning about blogging and her loathing thereof. Y'all know how she has fueled a whole new faux fear in the hearts of bloggers - the 55-Gallon Barrel Killer, and I was telling her that Hillbilly Mom nicknamed this mysterious unknown killer, "Fitty". I personally think it's funny. Not actually being chopped up and stuffed into a barrel - no, that wouldn't be funny at all. We just took Mom's paranoia and coined a phrase or two. She doesn't think there is one single thing funny about it. She said, "I don't think it's funny, Kristin. In. the. least. And I'm sure that the people of Wichita wouldn't find it funny either. OR the girl who actually ended up dead IN a 55-gallon barrel! I bet she wouldn't laugh." I could only reply with, "No, Mom, I don't reckon she would." I also didn't think at that moment that it would've been wise of me to argue with her that I didn't think the BTK killer stuffed people in barrels. I don't think he did anyway. Great, now I'm going to have to go Google that.
Anyway, back to the topic of blogging and it's number one supporter, my mother -
She loathes blogging. She not only thinks it stupid, but she also thinks it's dangerous and irresponsible. She swears that I actually did come from her womb, but sometimes I wonder why I didn't inherit the paranoia. Sis sure did. And while Sis doesn't share in Mom's actual loathing of my hobby, she has never hidden from me the fact that she finds it ridiculous, unsafe and a waste of time.
Mom was cleaning her kitchen while I was trying to tell her that Hillbilly Mom has appointed me to assist in the education of the citizens of Beclakia. She just turned around, Windex in hand, and stared at me blankly. Then she kind of raised her eyebrow, tsk'd and said, "Well, you just go on and blog, but if you'll notice - I'M not chopped up in a 55-gallon barrel." Then it was my turn to stare at her blankly. I said, "Uhh . . . Mom . . . if you'll notice, I'm not chopped up in a 55-gallon barrel either."
Anyway, back to the topic of blogging and it's number one supporter, my mother -
She loathes blogging. She not only thinks it stupid, but she also thinks it's dangerous and irresponsible. She swears that I actually did come from her womb, but sometimes I wonder why I didn't inherit the paranoia. Sis sure did. And while Sis doesn't share in Mom's actual loathing of my hobby, she has never hidden from me the fact that she finds it ridiculous, unsafe and a waste of time.
Mom was cleaning her kitchen while I was trying to tell her that Hillbilly Mom has appointed me to assist in the education of the citizens of Beclakia. She just turned around, Windex in hand, and stared at me blankly. Then she kind of raised her eyebrow, tsk'd and said, "Well, you just go on and blog, but if you'll notice - I'M not chopped up in a 55-gallon barrel." Then it was my turn to stare at her blankly. I said, "Uhh . . . Mom . . . if you'll notice, I'm not chopped up in a 55-gallon barrel either."
Saturday, August 20, 2005
I think we're going to have to find another barber shop
I took Sam to the barbershop today on my way to pick up my sister's kids so they could clean up yet another mess at their farm-ette. Poor little guy was gettin' pretty shaggy and his father for some reason hates to take him to the barbershop. So, for the last 6 years I have pretty much been the only person to take the child for haircuts. Not only do they all say "Sam!" like "Norm!" on Cheers when we walk in, but they all know me pretty well, too. They talk local news and gossip with me, occasionally sports, they inquire about my dad and my grandmother and have kind of adopted me as one of the guys. Just one of the guys with boobs. I don't think many moms frequent the manly hair-cutting domain of Larry's Barbershop. It's totally a guy place.
And honestly I'm not complaining because the cute little guy that cuts hair in the middle stall and is probably young enough to get me thrown into jail if I quit just admiring him once a month, is eye candy. Oh yes he is. Most certainly.
So we got in there and got settled in the chairs and began our wait. Abby said, "Where are we eating when we get done here?" I said I didn't have any place in mind, where did they want to eat? Abby suggested Charlie's. I made a face and said, "Ugh. NO. Not Charlie's." Ab said, "Why? Why can't we eat at Charlie's?" And Sam, who had been quiet up to this point, piped up rather loudly with, "BECAUSE IT GIVES MOM THE DIARRHEA!!!!"
The cowboy sitting next to me tried to hide the snort and the laughter that followed, but I knew he'd heard. Oh I knew. All the while that my face glowed red and I wanted to find the nearest hole to fall into, I heard him snickering. I think I heard snickering from others, too, but I wouldn't know for sure because I had my head ducked and a hand over my eyes. Ya know, if it's a total stranger you can almost just laugh it off and go on, but as the cowboy got up to get in the chair for his haircut, I made eye contact and realized that I've known him since I was a kid.
I don't think I can go back again. Because now the cowboy and my son could very well be on the same haircut schedule and it's highly likely that he might be in there again on a Saturday morning four weeks from now. Not to mention eye candy barber will be there as well. Yeah, now is probably as good a time as any for Sam to grow his hair out. The curly look is in for guys this year. It'll work.
And honestly I'm not complaining because the cute little guy that cuts hair in the middle stall and is probably young enough to get me thrown into jail if I quit just admiring him once a month, is eye candy. Oh yes he is. Most certainly.
So we got in there and got settled in the chairs and began our wait. Abby said, "Where are we eating when we get done here?" I said I didn't have any place in mind, where did they want to eat? Abby suggested Charlie's. I made a face and said, "Ugh. NO. Not Charlie's." Ab said, "Why? Why can't we eat at Charlie's?" And Sam, who had been quiet up to this point, piped up rather loudly with, "BECAUSE IT GIVES MOM THE DIARRHEA!!!!"
The cowboy sitting next to me tried to hide the snort and the laughter that followed, but I knew he'd heard. Oh I knew. All the while that my face glowed red and I wanted to find the nearest hole to fall into, I heard him snickering. I think I heard snickering from others, too, but I wouldn't know for sure because I had my head ducked and a hand over my eyes. Ya know, if it's a total stranger you can almost just laugh it off and go on, but as the cowboy got up to get in the chair for his haircut, I made eye contact and realized that I've known him since I was a kid.
I don't think I can go back again. Because now the cowboy and my son could very well be on the same haircut schedule and it's highly likely that he might be in there again on a Saturday morning four weeks from now. Not to mention eye candy barber will be there as well. Yeah, now is probably as good a time as any for Sam to grow his hair out. The curly look is in for guys this year. It'll work.
Friday, August 19, 2005
Surprise
I just looked down at my shirt and there is a really big booger smeared on my left boob. I'm not sure which kid put it there. If it was the baby I rocked first then the second one now could quite possibly have a few extra germs. If it was the one I rocked second, then hopefully all germs are contained in my shirt. If it was my four year old, then she and I are going to have to have a very serious talk.
Think I'll go change my shirt now. Very quietly, though - all four kids are asleep.
Damn, I'm good.
Think I'll go change my shirt now. Very quietly, though - all four kids are asleep.
Damn, I'm good.
Deep freakin' thoughts
What's the sound of two babies sleeping?
Boring as hell.
Cute Little Baby's mom din't say nothin' 'bout her baby takin' no morning nap (got all gangsta on ya, how'd ya like that?) so I wasn't going to attempt one, but when he started fussing awhile ago and I picked him up and he laid his head on my chest and sighed really big and then fell promptly asleep, I'm thinking he needed one.
Cute Big Baby didn't fight a nap either. He curled up on my chest, patted my arm, sighed real big and went to sleep.
It's the boobs. Mother Nature's pillows.
When Sam was about two or so he had this habit of pinching and squeezing and rubbing my boobs, especially my left one. I'd swing him up onto my left hip and he'd immediately put his hand on my boob. At first I didn't say anything, I'd just move his hand. Sometimes several times. So finally one day I said, "Look. Sammy. Honey. You really shouldn't play with mommy's boobs like that. It's just not right!" And he grinned, put his hand back up on it, rubbed and poked at it and very sweetly said, "But they're. just. so. squishy!"
Well, you can't argue with that.
He also had a thing for Magnet Lady's boobs. Heck, he still does. He'll be 7 in a few months. I'm thinkin' he's gonna be a boob man someday. Gosh, he's going to be SO disappointed when she gets her breast reduction!!
Okay, I'm gonna go make some noise and try to wake up a couple of babies. It's getting boring around here! The two three-year-olds don't want me to play with them. They're kind of clique-y that way.
Boring as hell.
Cute Little Baby's mom din't say nothin' 'bout her baby takin' no morning nap (got all gangsta on ya, how'd ya like that?) so I wasn't going to attempt one, but when he started fussing awhile ago and I picked him up and he laid his head on my chest and sighed really big and then fell promptly asleep, I'm thinking he needed one.
Cute Big Baby didn't fight a nap either. He curled up on my chest, patted my arm, sighed real big and went to sleep.
It's the boobs. Mother Nature's pillows.
When Sam was about two or so he had this habit of pinching and squeezing and rubbing my boobs, especially my left one. I'd swing him up onto my left hip and he'd immediately put his hand on my boob. At first I didn't say anything, I'd just move his hand. Sometimes several times. So finally one day I said, "Look. Sammy. Honey. You really shouldn't play with mommy's boobs like that. It's just not right!" And he grinned, put his hand back up on it, rubbed and poked at it and very sweetly said, "But they're. just. so. squishy!"
Well, you can't argue with that.
He also had a thing for Magnet Lady's boobs. Heck, he still does. He'll be 7 in a few months. I'm thinkin' he's gonna be a boob man someday. Gosh, he's going to be SO disappointed when she gets her breast reduction!!
Okay, I'm gonna go make some noise and try to wake up a couple of babies. It's getting boring around here! The two three-year-olds don't want me to play with them. They're kind of clique-y that way.
Last night I had the strangest dream
Seriously. I did. And I usually don't remember them come morning, but I made darn sure that the details were ingrained on my conscious mind before I went back to sleep.
I was Harry Potter. Except I wasn't really Harry Potter. No one actually called me by that name, but I was Harry Potter. And my toyroom was suddenly a room at Hogwarts - some kind of common type sleeping room that later turned into a Pentecostal church sanctuary. Yeah. But anyway, while I was being murderously trailed by Voldemort (Boy, if you haven't read any of the HP books I just realized how confused you just might be by reading this.) I was suddenly shrunken and found myself dangling from a window sill on the outside of the common/sleeping/toyroom. I was rescued, obviously. Then everyone piled into this ginormous beds that reminded me of the princess and the pea they were so tall. And I was afraid to sleep next to a window and I was justified in my fear seeing as how I'd just been shrunken and dangled and all, but everyone just poopoo'd it all away and went to sleep. THAT's when the room turned into a church sanctuary and the pastor was reading the church announcements. But then he took it a step further and started making fun of everyone who had called the church that week and had left messages on the answering machine. He made it like a parody skit where he was a telephone operator and he even had a Power Point presentation! I was sitting in my pew a'fumin', lemme tell ya, at the fact that poor old Mrs. Johnson had just called the church because she needed some food and he was making fun of her! Then suddenly I was outside, leaning out of a school bus window talking to Necia, a girl I went to grade school with who I haven't seen in ages. She and I were talking seriously and she was telling me something really important and I was very interested but then this girl who was a year older than me in high school, Stacey I think was her name (Gonna have to look her up in the yearbook) just butted in and was inviting me to their class reunion and they were going to toilet paper Coach Hurt's house again just like in the old days and I wanted to listen to them both, but neither would stop talking and I was about to cry I was so frustrated because they were bound and determined to make themselves heard.
Then I did this choking thing that I've done a few times before in my sleep. Know how you sometimes just get choked for no reason, like on your own spit? Well, I guess I do that in my sleep occasionally. I wake up gasping for air, needing to cough like there's something in my throat, but I can't get any air, so I try to swallow but what comes out isn't just normal quiet swallows but these pukey sounding gulps that remind me of a dog before he barfs because he's got a possum bone stuck in his throat. I'll gulp a few times like that then just when I think I am going to pass out from lack of air, I manage to gasp in a wheezy sounding asthmatic breath that if my youngest child did, I'd be hauling her butt to the ER. And then I can get some fresh, cool, life-giving air.
The last few times I've done that has conveniently been when either I or Mr. Diva have been sleeping on the couch, so he never knew I had such a talent. But last night I did it while he was spooning me. I was gasping for air, desperately trying to breathe and there he laid with his arm over me, curled up to me like nothing was wrong. When I FINALLY could breathe again and was secretly praying that I hadn't woken him because trust me, it doesn't sound all that pretty when I gasp and gulp for air and I knew I'd be embarrassed, he goes, "Wow. That was gross. You sick or something? Maybe you should get a drink of water, hon." And for a half a second I was like "Awww...how sweet, he's concerned." Then I heard him snoring again.
So I laid there awhile coughing obnoxiously in an attempt to annoy him and went over the details of that dream just so I could share it with all of the blogging community. Aren't you glad I did?
Okay, so now I must go. I have approximately 3 minutes before the attack of the babies. Today I'm watching another baby in addition to Cute Baby. And Chan. And Kady. Anyone who wants to buy me a drink come 5:30 tonight, y'all just get hold of me and we are SO going to a bar somewhere - even the Elks Lodge if that's what it takes.
I was Harry Potter. Except I wasn't really Harry Potter. No one actually called me by that name, but I was Harry Potter. And my toyroom was suddenly a room at Hogwarts - some kind of common type sleeping room that later turned into a Pentecostal church sanctuary. Yeah. But anyway, while I was being murderously trailed by Voldemort (Boy, if you haven't read any of the HP books I just realized how confused you just might be by reading this.) I was suddenly shrunken and found myself dangling from a window sill on the outside of the common/sleeping/toyroom. I was rescued, obviously. Then everyone piled into this ginormous beds that reminded me of the princess and the pea they were so tall. And I was afraid to sleep next to a window and I was justified in my fear seeing as how I'd just been shrunken and dangled and all, but everyone just poopoo'd it all away and went to sleep. THAT's when the room turned into a church sanctuary and the pastor was reading the church announcements. But then he took it a step further and started making fun of everyone who had called the church that week and had left messages on the answering machine. He made it like a parody skit where he was a telephone operator and he even had a Power Point presentation! I was sitting in my pew a'fumin', lemme tell ya, at the fact that poor old Mrs. Johnson had just called the church because she needed some food and he was making fun of her! Then suddenly I was outside, leaning out of a school bus window talking to Necia, a girl I went to grade school with who I haven't seen in ages. She and I were talking seriously and she was telling me something really important and I was very interested but then this girl who was a year older than me in high school, Stacey I think was her name (Gonna have to look her up in the yearbook) just butted in and was inviting me to their class reunion and they were going to toilet paper Coach Hurt's house again just like in the old days and I wanted to listen to them both, but neither would stop talking and I was about to cry I was so frustrated because they were bound and determined to make themselves heard.
Then I did this choking thing that I've done a few times before in my sleep. Know how you sometimes just get choked for no reason, like on your own spit? Well, I guess I do that in my sleep occasionally. I wake up gasping for air, needing to cough like there's something in my throat, but I can't get any air, so I try to swallow but what comes out isn't just normal quiet swallows but these pukey sounding gulps that remind me of a dog before he barfs because he's got a possum bone stuck in his throat. I'll gulp a few times like that then just when I think I am going to pass out from lack of air, I manage to gasp in a wheezy sounding asthmatic breath that if my youngest child did, I'd be hauling her butt to the ER. And then I can get some fresh, cool, life-giving air.
The last few times I've done that has conveniently been when either I or Mr. Diva have been sleeping on the couch, so he never knew I had such a talent. But last night I did it while he was spooning me. I was gasping for air, desperately trying to breathe and there he laid with his arm over me, curled up to me like nothing was wrong. When I FINALLY could breathe again and was secretly praying that I hadn't woken him because trust me, it doesn't sound all that pretty when I gasp and gulp for air and I knew I'd be embarrassed, he goes, "Wow. That was gross. You sick or something? Maybe you should get a drink of water, hon." And for a half a second I was like "Awww...how sweet, he's concerned." Then I heard him snoring again.
So I laid there awhile coughing obnoxiously in an attempt to annoy him and went over the details of that dream just so I could share it with all of the blogging community. Aren't you glad I did?
Okay, so now I must go. I have approximately 3 minutes before the attack of the babies. Today I'm watching another baby in addition to Cute Baby. And Chan. And Kady. Anyone who wants to buy me a drink come 5:30 tonight, y'all just get hold of me and we are SO going to a bar somewhere - even the Elks Lodge if that's what it takes.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Eye See You
The eyes have it!
Makes you want to sing that song from Sesame Street, "One of these things is not like the other..."
Tales from the toyroom
Some days it all comes together. The bigger kids are getting along and playing and the baby has discovered that a Duplo is the most amazing piece of plastic ever made. So, being the attentive day care lady that I am, I have plopped my butt in the toyroom floor and have been reading Harry Potter. But there are just some conversations that merit hoisting my big butt up off the floor to go blog.
-----------------------
Kady and Chandler are playing "dog". She had him on his back, legs in the air and was rubbing his belly to beat the band. It was hilarious because his leg was shaking!!
So she rolled him over onto his "legs" again and swatted his rear, which of course made him yelp and go scurrying off to his doghouse under the Lego table. She then told him to come out and quit being a bad puppy. He did, and if he had a tail, it would've been tucked between his legs. I was shaking from trying not to laugh and interrupt their play.
This is the conversation that followed:
K: Okay, pretend you're having fun. Okay?
C: Rokay. (pant pant)
K: Go. Go have fun, puppy!
C: Uhhhh....Kay-dee....can I have some doggie toys? I can't have fun without my doggie toys.
K: Oh whatever. If you must.
(Yes, I swear she said "If you must.")
-----------------------
Then the suddenly became horses that howled very loudly like a pack of wolves during a full moon. Freaky horses, lemme tell ya.
Then they attacked Cute Baby who was innocently chewing on some plastic french fries and a pirate sword.
----------------------
Now they are off playing "family". Chandler is the son and Kady is doing a pretty good job of being Mommy Dearest. Just now she sent Chan to his room. He went to the corner and laid down on his stomach after a stop at the toybox. Then he said, "Ohhhh Mommmmmmmm-uhhhhhhhh! I have a surrrrr-priiiiiiiiiise for youuuuuuu!" So Kady got up and went over to him and he jumped up, pulled out a toy gun and went "Bang!! SUR-PRISE!!"
Yikes. Jill should probably sleep with one eye open tonight.
-----------------------
Kady and Chandler are playing "dog". She had him on his back, legs in the air and was rubbing his belly to beat the band. It was hilarious because his leg was shaking!!
So she rolled him over onto his "legs" again and swatted his rear, which of course made him yelp and go scurrying off to his doghouse under the Lego table. She then told him to come out and quit being a bad puppy. He did, and if he had a tail, it would've been tucked between his legs. I was shaking from trying not to laugh and interrupt their play.
This is the conversation that followed:
K: Okay, pretend you're having fun. Okay?
C: Rokay. (pant pant)
K: Go. Go have fun, puppy!
C: Uhhhh....Kay-dee....can I have some doggie toys? I can't have fun without my doggie toys.
K: Oh whatever. If you must.
(Yes, I swear she said "If you must.")
-----------------------
Then the suddenly became horses that howled very loudly like a pack of wolves during a full moon. Freaky horses, lemme tell ya.
Then they attacked Cute Baby who was innocently chewing on some plastic french fries and a pirate sword.
----------------------
Now they are off playing "family". Chandler is the son and Kady is doing a pretty good job of being Mommy Dearest. Just now she sent Chan to his room. He went to the corner and laid down on his stomach after a stop at the toybox. Then he said, "Ohhhh Mommmmmmmm-uhhhhhhhh! I have a surrrrr-priiiiiiiiiise for youuuuuuu!" So Kady got up and went over to him and he jumped up, pulled out a toy gun and went "Bang!! SUR-PRISE!!"
Yikes. Jill should probably sleep with one eye open tonight.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Whiney Wednesday
It's 10pm and I'm just now finding time to whine. You know you're busy when you don't have time to whine.
* Cousin Stacey is sad and I don't know what to do to help her. I hate not being able to fix things, especially for people I love as much as I love her.
* Sis is under a lot of stress and bullshit these days and I can't fix her either. So is Mom. Three of the people I love the most are hurting and I can't make it better. I feel pretty helpless.
* My step-grandma is totally cuckoo on her meds right now and it's causing a HUGE strain on my Papa. She and Papa live next to Mom (and Sis for now) and she's calling all of us all the time, but more often them because they're close, and she's scared she has Alzheimer's. She doesn't have Alzheimer's - she's just on too many meds and the wrong ones at that. Too many doctors giving her too many pills.
* I may or may not have a demolition derby car, but the thing is I may or MAY NOT have it. I have no clue when I'll find out either. It's driving me nuts. What I need to be doing it fixing up the mystery car, but I'M NOT EVEN SURE I HAVE IT YET!!!!!!!!!
* I have had a headache all day. It was bad this morning, but it's down to a dull throb in my left temple now.
* I miss Cousin Stacey.
* I cooked a big ol' dinner for the fam tonight - breakfast for dinner complete with sausage gravy, eggs, homemade biscuits, pancakes - and now I'm going to have to hand-wash all the damn pots and pans. Now I remember why I don't cook too often. Damn expensive cookware.
* I haven't won anything gambling in a long time. It's totally not fair. When's it gonna be my turn again?
* I need to shave my legs. I was sitting in the floor playing with Cute Baby today and he'd rub my leg, then make a face, rub it again and shiver. It was funny. Sad funny. I hate to shave.
* I went barefoot all day today and I just know I'm going to pay for it tomorrow. My foot is going to hurt like a bitch.
* I didn't sleep good last night because Mr. Diva kept trying to molest me. He didn't try while I was awake. Oh no, he waited till I was good and asleep. I hate when he does that. I do NOT handle being woke up like that well at all, so of course he never actually gets lucky when he tries, but the thing is, he keeps thinking he will and then I don't sleep good the rest of the night because the dude just can't get a clue. Even when I kick him with my boot.
* I need to mop the kitchen floor. I hate mopping the kitchen floor. It sucks.
* Cousin Stacey is sad and I don't know what to do to help her. I hate not being able to fix things, especially for people I love as much as I love her.
* Sis is under a lot of stress and bullshit these days and I can't fix her either. So is Mom. Three of the people I love the most are hurting and I can't make it better. I feel pretty helpless.
* My step-grandma is totally cuckoo on her meds right now and it's causing a HUGE strain on my Papa. She and Papa live next to Mom (and Sis for now) and she's calling all of us all the time, but more often them because they're close, and she's scared she has Alzheimer's. She doesn't have Alzheimer's - she's just on too many meds and the wrong ones at that. Too many doctors giving her too many pills.
* I may or may not have a demolition derby car, but the thing is I may or MAY NOT have it. I have no clue when I'll find out either. It's driving me nuts. What I need to be doing it fixing up the mystery car, but I'M NOT EVEN SURE I HAVE IT YET!!!!!!!!!
* I have had a headache all day. It was bad this morning, but it's down to a dull throb in my left temple now.
* I miss Cousin Stacey.
* I cooked a big ol' dinner for the fam tonight - breakfast for dinner complete with sausage gravy, eggs, homemade biscuits, pancakes - and now I'm going to have to hand-wash all the damn pots and pans. Now I remember why I don't cook too often. Damn expensive cookware.
* I haven't won anything gambling in a long time. It's totally not fair. When's it gonna be my turn again?
* I need to shave my legs. I was sitting in the floor playing with Cute Baby today and he'd rub my leg, then make a face, rub it again and shiver. It was funny. Sad funny. I hate to shave.
* I went barefoot all day today and I just know I'm going to pay for it tomorrow. My foot is going to hurt like a bitch.
* I didn't sleep good last night because Mr. Diva kept trying to molest me. He didn't try while I was awake. Oh no, he waited till I was good and asleep. I hate when he does that. I do NOT handle being woke up like that well at all, so of course he never actually gets lucky when he tries, but the thing is, he keeps thinking he will and then I don't sleep good the rest of the night because the dude just can't get a clue. Even when I kick him with my boot.
* I need to mop the kitchen floor. I hate mopping the kitchen floor. It sucks.
Looks like you get a photoblog today, my friends
Been awhile since I've done a photoblog, but by golly today's as good a day as any.
While I wait for Flickr to upload my photos, I'll start writing about my weekend. I think I left off with Mr. Diva stalking me and making me come home from a fabulous GNO. Yeah. So Saturday morning I woke up later than I had intended because Mom had the kids and she was wanting to hit some flea markets and garage sales and I knew she'd be whizzed. So I hit the floor, threw on some shorts, a bra, a 'do rag, grabbed a Diet Coke and ran out the door. Sure enough, she was whizzed. But she got over it quick and offered to feed us all lunch. We totally said yes.
So after lunch the conversation turned to Branson and how we'd like to go and take the kids to see Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. I really didn't have the money, but thanks to the First National Bank of Mom, the Diva family was all set. I called Mr. Diva at work and told him the plans and then went home to pack. Mom and Sis went down before we did so that they could get a motel room since Mr. Diva had to work till 4.
The drive down Mr. Diva and I played duelling air conditioner, but other than that it was pretty uneventful. We encountered a car show on The Strip and came in on the back routes, which is always better anyway, finally found the motel, got settled and Mr. Diva went promptly to sleep. So much for family time. The kids and I went to the pool and they swam for a couple of hours with Sis, aka YaYa, while I stood at the side and counted to five over and over and over again to make sure no one was drowning without my knowledge.
Sunday morning we got around and after a delightful breakfast in the motel where my 3-year-old spilled her coffee all down her white shirt and everyone said, "Oh Diva, of course you can eat breakfast in your pajamas, no one will even notice!" except I was the ONLY fool in my pajamas looking like I just rolled out of bed (I had) and felt like a total dork. We did a little shopping and then went to the theatre. We had kept it a secret from the kids and when we pulled in Abby just drew in this huge breath and whispered, "Joseph!" This is the crew waiting excitedly for the show to begin.
You can see how excited Mr. Diva was.
They make a big production about not taking flash pictures during the show because it messed up the lighting for the audience and it also distracts the cast. So what did I do during Joseph's first song, but flash a big ol' picture right in his face! We were on the first row. I'm sure he was seeing spots during the next two scenes. I was mortified. Mom said she just knew someone was going to come down and throw me out. But it was worth risking the theater po po's coming to get me because look how it turned out!
Without the flash, the pictures turn out like this
- just a bit blurry. This picture is of the brothers singing about how much they loathe Joseph and his coat. It rocked sitting where we sat. I got some awesome pics.
This is from my favorite scene, "Go Go Go Joseph". Complete with well, go-go dancers.
Kady is pretty shy when it comes to total strangers, so when she walked right up to this "brother" (who also played Pharoah) we were astonished. Then she got embarrassed and hid her face behind Mom's legs.
The kids all wanted Joseph sign their ticket stubs. This is Sam with Landon, aka Joseph.
This last one is all five kids posing with an Egyptian sculpture in the lobby. Notice they are all doing some kind of Egyptian pose, except for Kady who just opted for a traditional make a face sticking your tongue out pose.
You really should check out the show. And if you take the whole fam damily, get the Family Pack.
While I wait for Flickr to upload my photos, I'll start writing about my weekend. I think I left off with Mr. Diva stalking me and making me come home from a fabulous GNO. Yeah. So Saturday morning I woke up later than I had intended because Mom had the kids and she was wanting to hit some flea markets and garage sales and I knew she'd be whizzed. So I hit the floor, threw on some shorts, a bra, a 'do rag, grabbed a Diet Coke and ran out the door. Sure enough, she was whizzed. But she got over it quick and offered to feed us all lunch. We totally said yes.
So after lunch the conversation turned to Branson and how we'd like to go and take the kids to see Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. I really didn't have the money, but thanks to the First National Bank of Mom, the Diva family was all set. I called Mr. Diva at work and told him the plans and then went home to pack. Mom and Sis went down before we did so that they could get a motel room since Mr. Diva had to work till 4. The drive down Mr. Diva and I played duelling air conditioner, but other than that it was pretty uneventful. We encountered a car show on The Strip and came in on the back routes, which is always better anyway, finally found the motel, got settled and Mr. Diva went promptly to sleep. So much for family time. The kids and I went to the pool and they swam for a couple of hours with Sis, aka YaYa, while I stood at the side and counted to five over and over and over again to make sure no one was drowning without my knowledge.Sunday morning we got around and after a delightful breakfast in the motel where my 3-year-old spilled her coffee all down her white shirt and everyone said, "Oh Diva, of course you can eat breakfast in your pajamas, no one will even notice!" except I was the ONLY fool in my pajamas looking like I just rolled out of bed (I had) and felt like a total dork. We did a little shopping and then went to the theatre. We had kept it a secret from the kids and when we pulled in Abby just drew in this huge breath and whispered, "Joseph!" This is the crew waiting excitedly for the show to begin.
You can see how excited Mr. Diva was.They make a big production about not taking flash pictures during the show because it messed up the lighting for the audience and it also distracts the cast. So what did I do during Joseph's first song, but flash a big ol' picture right in his face! We were on the first row. I'm sure he was seeing spots during the next two scenes. I was mortified. Mom said she just knew someone was going to come down and throw me out. But it was worth risking the theater po po's coming to get me because look how it turned out!
Without the flash, the pictures turn out like this
- just a bit blurry. This picture is of the brothers singing about how much they loathe Joseph and his coat. It rocked sitting where we sat. I got some awesome pics. This is from my favorite scene, "Go Go Go Joseph". Complete with well, go-go dancers.Kady is pretty shy when it comes to total strangers, so when she walked right up to this "brother" (who also played Pharoah) we were astonished. Then she got embarrassed and hid her face behind Mom's legs.
The kids all wanted Joseph sign their ticket stubs. This is Sam with Landon, aka Joseph.
This last one is all five kids posing with an Egyptian sculpture in the lobby. Notice they are all doing some kind of Egyptian pose, except for Kady who just opted for a traditional make a face sticking your tongue out pose.
You really should check out the show. And if you take the whole fam damily, get the Family Pack.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Someone stop me!
Okay, I'm still Googling myself. Hey, it's Men's Night at the Buffalo, the kids are in bed and I'm bored. It's either this or the local news.
Kristin loves seafood! Iew. Blechy. No I don't.
Kristin likes kissing girls while she is drunk. Hey, it was one time at the Elks Lodge . . .
Kristin loves 'Cool Money'. Even lukewarm money is fine by me.
Kristin likes to drink wine with friends. Heck yes, especially if they're buying.
Kristin loves the water and jet skiing. Iew. Blechy. No I don't.
KRISTIN LOVES SEX AND THE CITY. I love sex, yes. The City, not so much. But sex, yeah. Definitely.
Kristin likes to use Urban Apothecary's Brow Now Eyebrow Gel. Because it makes my eyebrows so gel-licious.
Kristin loves you. Yes I do, my little schookie wookie pookie bear.
Kristin loves hockey but still can't grasp the rules. Of course, I'm sure it would help if I'd actually tried.
Kristin likes to get families in a natural setting. Just call me "Fitty".
Kristin loves her lil' piggy meal. Doesn't everyone love a lil' piggy meal every now and then?
Kristin likes humans a lot, too. But not as much as a good ol' lil' piggy meal.
Kristin likes it that way. And that way and oooooh yes, that way, baby. Mmmhmmm.....oh yeah, THAT way....YES YES YES
Kristin loves chocolate, shopping, her cell phone, music, reality television,pop culture, advertising, volunteering, hanging out with Rodney Winkelman. Good ol' Rodney. He's so much fun to shop with!
Kristin likes watermelon because she showered in it. Shower in watermelon and use an apricot scrub on your face and you've already taken care of breakfast first thing in the morning!
Kristin loves her double life. We make big trouble for Moose and Squirrel.
Kristin likes to hear the reassurance. I want to hear you say you like it when I smell like watermelon all day long.
Kristin loves to eat doritos and vanilla ice cream with oreo cookies. Creamy, yet crunchy and a wee bit zesty.
Kristin loves seafood! Iew. Blechy. No I don't.
Kristin likes kissing girls while she is drunk. Hey, it was one time at the Elks Lodge . . .
Kristin loves 'Cool Money'. Even lukewarm money is fine by me.
Kristin likes to drink wine with friends. Heck yes, especially if they're buying.
Kristin loves the water and jet skiing. Iew. Blechy. No I don't.
KRISTIN LOVES SEX AND THE CITY. I love sex, yes. The City, not so much. But sex, yeah. Definitely.
Kristin likes to use Urban Apothecary's Brow Now Eyebrow Gel. Because it makes my eyebrows so gel-licious.
Kristin loves you. Yes I do, my little schookie wookie pookie bear.
Kristin loves hockey but still can't grasp the rules. Of course, I'm sure it would help if I'd actually tried.
Kristin likes to get families in a natural setting. Just call me "Fitty".
Kristin loves her lil' piggy meal. Doesn't everyone love a lil' piggy meal every now and then?
Kristin likes humans a lot, too. But not as much as a good ol' lil' piggy meal.
Kristin likes it that way. And that way and oooooh yes, that way, baby. Mmmhmmm.....oh yeah, THAT way....YES YES YES
Kristin loves chocolate, shopping, her cell phone, music, reality television,pop culture, advertising, volunteering, hanging out with Rodney Winkelman. Good ol' Rodney. He's so much fun to shop with!
Kristin likes watermelon because she showered in it. Shower in watermelon and use an apricot scrub on your face and you've already taken care of breakfast first thing in the morning!
Kristin loves her double life. We make big trouble for Moose and Squirrel.
Kristin likes to hear the reassurance. I want to hear you say you like it when I smell like watermelon all day long.
Kristin loves to eat doritos and vanilla ice cream with oreo cookies. Creamy, yet crunchy and a wee bit zesty.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)