Forever is a long time...

Yup, that's actually them in 1950!

Today is my Grandparent's 61st wedding anniversary. That's NOT a typo. 61 YEARS. Together. They got married in 1950 in Los Angeles, California (where we are from). They have had good times, bad times, extremely bad times... they toughed it out when most people would have said "Screw this" and shot the other one. They had 3 kids and have 6 grandchildren and 2 great-grandchildren. Of course neither of them is perfect. He's one of those "my way or your an idiot" kind of guys and she's a very liberal, hard-working, out spoken but passive-aggressive (well, she used to be before the stroke a few years ago. Now she's pretty quiet, but has no filter, so conversations are always fun!).

So, Happy 61st Anniversary to two truly amazing people. I'm amazed every day by your love and devotion to each other, how you honor the vows and committments you made... but mostly that you didn't strangle one other 30 years ago! ;)

Seriously, though, you are both an inspiration and a testament to what a little hard work and a lot of love can overcome.

Much love to you both,
~Your First (and favorite?) Granddaughter xoxoxo

Say it ain't so...

Seriously. Someone please tell me WHAT I did to Karma?! Cuz I am like super, super sorry about it. Both kids are sick... pretty sure it's "just" a sinus infection. Ok, I can handle the runny, snotty noses. The coughing in my face. Even a little whining (they don't feel well, after all and I did say a *little*). But last night The Husband went to bed at 8:55. No joke - it wasn't even 9 o'clock! I knew something was wrong. Then he says the 4 words every woman dreads to hear from their husbands... "I think I'm sick". NOOOOOOOO! No, no, no, you cannot be sick!

Having The Husband sick is like having TWO extra kids. The whining, crying, whining, snotty nose, whining, coughing... it's almost enough to make me roofie his ass so he passes out and wakes up 2 days later, totally fine and unaware of what has happened. If the kids get sick and it doesn't get better, I take them to the doctor. I give them medicine. I make them take a nap. I make sure they drink fluids and eat. The Husband lays around moaning and groaning, won't eat (unless food magically appears in front of him), refuses to drink anything except soda, and getting him to go to the doctor... well, let's just say I have an easier time convincing The Boy to eat broccoli. He parks himself on the big chair in my living room and falls asleep, snoring and hacking and it drives.me.fecking.in.sane!! He managed to get himself some cold medicine and leave for work today, but when he came home 7 hours later, he hadn't eaten anything all day! When I told him to get a sandwich he said "Eh. Nevermind." For reals?!

Does anyone know what happens if Mommy gets sick? No, of course not. Because nothing changes. Mommy still cooks, cleans, takes the kids to school, changes diapers, does the laundry... she just does it grumpier-er than usual and with half as much sleep as she usually gets (Wait, what's half of nothing? I'm really bad with math). But heaven forbid if Daddy gets sick. My sole purpose in life, when he is sick, is to bow down and serve his sick ass. He's going to get served alright.

Someone say a prayer for me please... or maybe you should say a prayer for The Husband, so he lives to see another day.

And for goodness sake, go get a flu shot. Adios, people.

Baby I Got Yo' Money...

Can I just take a minute and thank all of the amazing, thoughtful and efficient waiters and waitresses out there? It's not easy serving people, especially when it comes to food, and you are the BEST. Thank You for taking such good care of me and my messy family!! If I could, I'd tip you 100%. :)

Don't forget my tip, bitches.

Now, to the rest of the idiots working in restaurants out there - you know the ones, the waiters and waitresses that don't really want to be there, but are too damn lazy to find another job (or one that starts after 1pm!). The college drop outs that just don't want to do any work and enjoy snorting or smoking something out behind the dumpster before work, during a break, after putting in your order, after work, really whenever they get bored because they don't take their Ritalin. The dumb chicks with an IQ roughly the same as their shoe size. I'm not exaggerating either.


It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that if there are young kids at the table, you should probably wake the feck up and pay attention to your surroundings! Stuff you do with a table full of teenagers or grown ups cannot be done to a table with small kids. And you don't have to be a parent to know these few simple things. I call it the "How to Ensure a Great Tip" list:

1. If you put a 32oz glass full of ice and freezing cold carbonated liquid in front of a 2 year old, that glass and all of its contents will be on the floor, an adult and the now screaming 2 year old before you are done handing out straws. Give the kids their kiddie cups FIRST and then place the grown up drinks AWAY from the little ones.

2. Kids can only play with a piece of paper and 2 crayons for about 5, 10 minutes tops, depending on their age. Bring the kids more crayons and a basket of chips or breadsticks. This will give you another 5ish minutes. This is plenty of time to get orders filled and entered, I have seen it done countless times. And don't ask if they want more chips or something else to drink, JUST.KEEP.BRINGING.IT!

3. If one of the Parent's starts ordering by saying "Can we get the kids food as soon as it's ready, before our food comes?" then LISTEN to the word BEFORE. Not WITH their food, not AFTER their food, BEFORE. And not 30 seconds before. Like a good 5 minutes, so that Mom can cut everything up and swap out the pickles and add 90lbs of ketchup so that she can actually eat a hot fecking meal for a change.

All you had to do was check
the temperature of her french fries.

4. Before you actually head out to the table with the kids food, stop and check it. If the plate is hot, then the food is hot. Have you ever seen a 2 year old pick up a steaming hot piece of pizza and start munching away? No! You've probably never seen a grown man do it either, because your mouth doesn't like scalding hot food. And my ears don't like the sound of a toddler screaming at the top of his lungs because he burned off all of his taste buds. And it defeats the purpose of bringing the kids food early, since Mom will spend all 5 minutes getting dizzy blowing air all over the plates and trying to use ice cubes to cool it off without making a watery cheeseburger. Hot food = Screaming Kids, No Tip. Warm food = Happy Kids, Good Tip. P.S. The Chef (my brother) told me the fancy places put the kids food on a pre-chilled plate. Now THAT is a smart idea! :)

5. Bring extra napkins. Extra paper towels. Extra linen. Extra hand-wipes. Don't wait around, don't ask, just bring them when you deliver the drinks and bring more about 5 minutes after we start eating. It'll be easier to clean up the napkins than to clean what was done on, around and under the table, trust me.

6. If you don't like kids, don't want kids, can't stand kids... SWITCH TABLES with another waiter for feck's sake! Don't act all depressed and rude and obnoxious because we chose not to ruin our dining room floor that night and now you have to carry food to our table. I didn't ask you to sit down and feed me my soup, so grow the hell up. Either suck it up and be nice or swap tables with someone who doesn't mind side-stepping the half-chewed cheese scattered around the high chair.

So there you have it. These are the top 6 things that are important to us, anyway. If you have more to add to this list, feel free to comment below!

Adios, people.

Shake, Shake, Shake...

We had an earthquake Tuesday. A Mutherfekking earthquake. THIS was the SOLE reason I chose NOT to live in California after breaking up with Stoner Jay. I am Terrified of these things. Seriously, like hysterically crying, throwing up, hiding under the table terrified. There was a huge earthquake in LA when I was little and I remember running and diving head first under my Abuela's kitchen table and then not wanting to come out. Ever. It took her about an hour to get me to come out.

You're going to watch WHAT?

Luckily I had put the short people down for a much needed nap before this current one hit. The Boy was passed out in the middle of our bed surrounded by open air (my laziness paid off for a change, since I have never bothered to hang any pictures up in our room!) and when I checked on The Girl in the video monitor, she was sitting up in her crib, looking around. Then about 5 seconds later, she grabbed her dog and passed the hell out. I picked up the phone and called The Husband on his cell phone. I could tell he thought I was over-reacting... I had immediately started freaking out, crying and skaking and asking him where he was and yelling "That's not supposed to happen here!!!" He was concerned about me (probably losing my mind) and didn't say much beyond, "You're ok, I'll be home soon" but at the same time, I could tell he was very excited that he had just been in an earthquake. The first thing he did when he came home... care to guess? Hug me? Give me a kiss? Reassure me that he was there and could protect me by turning into Superman? Nope. He turned on the TV and watched all the news reports and kept saying "Wow! My 1st earthquake!" I almost kicked him in the nuts.

A few days and some aftershocks later, I am still here. But I'm not so sure I like this state anymore. And if the earthquake wasn't enough, now there's a crazy bitch named IRENE making all kinds of noise and threatening to wreck shit. I mean, really... there's only so much a lazy wife can take.

So try to stay safe. Don't forget to buy water and toilet paper. Adios, people.

Welcome to the Family... please don't die.

Damn... I'm so lazy, I don't even update my blog about being lazy. HA! Actually it was another crazy week here at Chateau Broke. Because he finally did it. After months and months and months and months (really, I could keep going)... The Husband.Bought.A.Car!!!

So he will be driving around (only when he goes to work since he's on restriction per the state) in this sleek little sexy thing and will save all kinds of gas because it gets like 5x better gas mileage than my newly inherited Big Blue Beast. Just FYI, Big Blue Beast is a 2002 SUV with a V8 engine... and he's blue. The minute we saw him, I called him Hank [5 points if you're as geeky as me and can tell me what that reference is from] and he gets 13 mpg. So glad I have a job to pay for my gas bill... oh, wait... feck. Sorry kids, no fruit this week, Hank needs a few gallons!

So I was trying to come up with a really good name for this new beauty and realized I have always named my cars. Because I'm a dork like that. Usually by their color, sometimes for other reasons. Here's the list, just for fun:

"Lemons" - My very first car! I had Lemons for 2 glorious weeks. I bought it with cash from a shady guy with burn scars all over him in a shady part a nasty little town. But it was kind of cute. '89 Accord hatchback. The AC worked. 2 weeks into it, I was 1 mile from my house, ONE mile... and it died. There was a huge creaky/cracky/clacky noise and then POOF, it ran out of steam... and then ACTUALLY steamed. Turns out they sold me a car with almost NO.OIL. When a car runs out of oil and you keep driving it, you can crack the engine. And apparently a new engine costs a lot of money and takes awhile to do. Who knew? Unfortunately I bought the car "as-is" and there wasn't anything I could do.

"Loaner" - My grandma had a little blue Subaru something from 1980-something that was 5-speed. My ex-fiancee (Stoner Jay) was the only one that could drive it and that only lasted for about 3 weeks, when the shifter thingy fell down through the car and onto the street. I'm told they aren't supposed to do that. Loaner was donated to charity. Or the dump, I'm not really sure.

"Blue" - A 1990 Camry with 130,000 miles that was bought on auction by Stoner Jay without looking under the hood. She ran for almost 2 years and we never changed the oil, tires, washer fluid, etc. and it never gave us a problem. Stoner Jay drove around a curve too quickly in a rainstorm and flipped it upside down. On Valentine's Day. After proposing to me earlier that night. He was fine. Blue was not.

"Morrie" - He belonged to my grandparents and was a 1993 Dodge Colt. I loved Morrie. He taught me how to drive, how to parallel park, he got me across the country, he survived 2 blizzards and every time I put the key in the ignition, he started right up. I took good care of him and if it hadn't been for that crazy lady from the "country" not paying attention to the traffic lights in the "big city" (her words) Morrie wouldn't have died a horrible, head-on death. :(

Yes, the interior is pink. Yougottaproblemwiththat?

"Redd" - Here's her tribute. She died unexpectedly almost a year ago and it has made me realize that the men in my life should NEVER.BE.ALLOWED.TO.DRIVE.MY.CARS!

So, Hank, it's up to you to keep me and the short people safe now. And I promise to take good care of you and not let The Husband drive you too much, especially now that he's got his as-yet-unnamed beauty. He didn't really love you as much as I do anyway. You were never good enough for him. I mean you don't have bluetooth or a radio that shows text, you guzzle gas like it's your last meal and you make a funny noise by one of the back tires. But I want you to know that I appreciate you... in spite of all of those things. And I love how big and spacious and sturdy you are. I never feel like I'm going to fly off the road when it gets hella windy because you're heavy. And this is starting to sound dirty and a little creepy, but suffice it say, I'm glad to have you back Hank.

I got a ticket to ride...

Make it a good week. Adios, people.

It's What I Love About Him...

Can't think of a better reason to link up from Multitasking Mumma than her "It's What I Love About Him" post. Well, ok, but the wine comes in 2nd, honest. :)

I'm going to post mine a little differently, though.

To The Husband: here's a list of things that you probably didn't know...

1. You invaded my personal space within 3 seconds of meeting you and almost 9 years later, I thank God every day that you did.

2. I complain about it, but really, I like hearing about your high school days and the stuff you used to do before you met me.

3. When I see it's you on the Caller ID, before I answer, I tell the phone "Please say 'Hi Beautiful'"... and you usually do, which always makes me smile, no matter what is going on.

4. Even without your glasses on, I think you are incredibly handsome.

5. I really do prefer the goatee.

6. I'm glad you made me a Redskins fan, even if they need some major help.

7. I wouldn't change a single thing about the way either of the short people came into the world.

8. The reason his middle name is not spelled the French way on The Boy's birth certificate is because I was more concerned with getting an accent mark over the I in his first name and completely spaced out... sorry...

9. I know I used to say I didn't want a daughter, for fear she would be like me, but that was all a lie and I cried happy tears after she was born when no one was around.

10. I pray every night that you, The Boy and The Girl all wake up the next morning. I've always been afraid that you will be taken from me in my sleep.

11. I admire the hell out of you because you excel at everything you do.

12. I like that, after you teach me something (no matter how trivial), you are genuinely proud of me. It's a great feeling that I didn't get a lot of growing up.

13. I am jealous of the fact that you can have a crappy day but still manage to have a good attitude when you are done with work.

14. I see you as a good Man, a wonderful Husband and an amazing Daddy.

15. I make a point of telling the kids more than a few times a week how much you love them and that you work very hard so they can be happy.

16. If boths kids grow up to be exactly like you, I would consider it a job well done.

17. Even though I don't say it to your face often enough, I appreciate everything you sacrifice and do for this family and if it weren't for you, we simply wouldn't be.

18. Some days I really don't feel worthy of being your wife.

19. I would have said "Yes" in the restaurant. I was actually hoping you would ignore me and do it anyway.

20. I will love you... F O R E V E R.



Way Back When:

2 Kids, 9 years and a lot of fried chicken later:

Speacial Thanks to Anita, because I totally copied this from her blog. CHEERS!

Car Salesmen Suck. Except Jim.

It's "Let's borrow money from a billion places and spend a hundred hours trying to buy a 2nd car" week here in Crazyville. Does it REALLY have to be this difficult to buy a new car? I blame the men. No, really. There are very few women selling cars out there, but if they DID, this is how I imagine it would go:

Husband & Wife walk into a dealership. They are approached by a good looking (read: not skanky/slutty/whorish/24), clean, well-mannered woman who offers them a beverage and asks if she can help them.
Wife: He wrecked one of our cars [points to husband] and we need to replace it. It needs to have 4 doors, decent gas milage, be any color except red or white and a blue tooth thingy for his phone so the cops don't arrest him when he drives to DC.
Saleswoman: No problem! What's the budget look like?
Wife: I stay home with the short people, so he's the one with the job and his credit is only OK because he didn't pay off his student loans when he was single. So we'd like to pay about $17,000 out the door. Oh and we have some cash for a down payment on that price.
Saleswoman: Typical. But that's still not a problem. Let's take a look at our inventory. [Pulls up long list of cars, sorts by color, then by price, prints list.] Here's what we have on the lot right now that are ready to go. The prices on the left INCLUDE all the taxes, tags, and processing fees. We currently have 13 cars under $17,000 that fit your criteria. I also happen to have a coupon for $750 off the sales price, and we double all coupons here. There are no restrictions on it, either. Now, which color would you like to see? *smile*

Here's what actually happened:

The Husband and I go to a dealership. We stand around for 5 minutes before someone approaches us. The Husband gives the name of a guy he spoke to on the phone. Loud muffled page over the loud speaker. 5 minutes later a short, spazzy Salesman with a scruffy beard comes up and has no clue who we are or what he spoke to The Husband about. The Husband explains he found a car on their website that fits into his budget, has blue tooth, etc., etc. Salesman sits at a computer and they both look at the car online. I text my Mother back a list of acceptable foods that The Girl can have since she is currently squishing and throwing her dinner on the floor. Salesman gets up and goes to talk to the "mystery rule maker" in the back [totally dark and enclosed] office, comes back and says that said car was sold this afternoon and no one bothered to update the website. The Husband gets a look on his face like his non-existent dog died, then asks if there is another, similar car on the lot.

Salesman, The Husband and I shuffle to a different desk (apparently the internet doesn't work the same way on all the computers in the building) and Salesman brings up the inventory. He finds 1 (ONE) car that could be in the budget if the numbers work out right. Everyone traipses to the back of the lot (damn you cute black high heels!!) and we get into the car, which has been sitting there since June. I know because checked the sticker on the window. Everything is covered in plastic and it is HOT.AS.HELL. The Husband drives it up to the front, we get out and go back inside to sit at the 2nd desk.

Salesman tells us that since the car has not been on the lot for a long time, it's going to be hard to negotiate the price down, and also because that's just not how they work. He takes the printout The Husband had of the car that got sold to the "mystery rule maker" to see what the final price would be. I text my Mom back and apologize for the ginormous pile of clean laundry upstairs and yes, The Girl's pj's really are in her room. Salesman comes back with an outrageous number that included almost $3,000 in fees (one was actually for freight. Yes, FREIGHT. I looked him in the eyes and said "That car's been sitting back there since JUNE. Why do we have to pay freight?" He said nothing.). Also, we have to finance the car through THEM or they charge us an extra $500. BUT, if we finance through them, they'll GIVE US $500 CASH. To which I said "WHUCK?" The Husband has been shaking his head no the whole time and saying "That's $1,500 more than we can do. No way."

Salesman keeps insiting that with this incentive and that incentive it works out great and he's not making any money off of the deal at this price anyway and did we go to college because if we can give a transcript he can knock off $500 (WTF is the obsession with $500?!) and maybe there's a way to drop it a LITTLE, but really our budget is just unreasonable and why are we being so unfair? The Husband said "Ok. Thanks. Bye."

So we went to Carmax next door. Met a nice, laid back guy named Jim. He let us look around, printed out a few cars, gave us some info, let us know they could transfer a car to that dealership from up to 250 miles away for FREE and told us to call him when we were ready to go. The Husband looked less like his dog died and more like the internet was temporarily unavailable. A few days later (today) he went online, found a car on the carmax website and requested a transfer.

That was WAY more complicated than it needed to be. You either want to sell a car or you don't. Don't waste my mother fecking time playing with the price of the car (in increments of $500) just to eek out a few bucks. Want steady money where you don't have to rely on commission? GET ANOTHER JOB!

And so, after all that... there's a chance that in the next 7 days, we could have another car! I have already promised The Boy that we would take a picnic lunch and go to the Dinosaur Park. In the middle of the day, whenever we want to, because The Husband will be able to take his own damn car to work! Yey!

I need a glass of wine. Adios, people.

Insane in the Membrane... Part 2

When we last left our little drama infused facebook messaging with the BIO-MIL (for you newbies that's my husband's BIO-logical mother, who is quite possibly certifiably crazy), she ended her crazy nonsensical ranting with a statment that implied that I could call HER more often if I stopped drinking. Then she sent a 2nd message and said "The part about drinking was referring to your comment about my smoking" as if I had the reading comprehension of a 2 month old gorilla. She constantly clarifies the obvious and leaves you to decipher the rest. I initially found it funny... then odd... now it's just stupid.

So, fast forward about 4 hours - yup, HOURS - and I log back onto facebook. She's posted a status about dodging bullets by private message so you don't have to dodge bullets (I'm telling you, she's a real life "Damn You Auto Correct") and I see that I have ANOTHER message from her. This is the entire message, copied and pasted from FB:

and it was me that made the comment on putting sun screen on his little head AS A JOKE I will be happy to talk if one of you are willing to bring something productive to the table. A way that WE can improve this situation and WE can work TOGETHER. Other then that, please dont contact me again...

I never replied to any of her messages. I told her I wouldn't when the whole mess began. But will say a few things about that message here! :)

1. Learn how to use punctuation. Your son over-uses it and you don't use enough.
2. Maybe you should type out all of your thoughts in a word document and read them back to yourself. If you can't figure out what you just wrote, NO ONE ELSE WILL EITHER, WHORE!
3. Then and Than are two totally different words. Learn the difference.
4. I sincerely hope you realize, that by asking me not to contact you again, you have effectively severed all ties and communication to your grandchildren and son. For I am the sole creator, distributor, writer, mailer and reminder for every birthday card, major holiday card, school picture, family portrait and/or any other correspondence that leaves this house. And you just unsubscribed, bitch.

So there you have it. I still see the occasional status update from her, but I de-friended her creepy husband and have blocked most of my page from her.

Be careful what you wish for... you never know when it's going to bite you in the ass.

Adios, people.

Spoiled Rotten Princess...

Seriously... if I hear one more grown-ass woman call their daughter "Princess", I'm going to BEAT.THEM.SENSELESS!

Here's the thing, I totally understand why the Disney Princesses are so popular. They are beautiful, blemish-free, thin, proper ladies who have snagged the man of their dreams and are now living worry-free in a ginormous castle/mansion/palace that they will never have to clean. I want that too! Hell, I would settle for being thin and owning my own home, but that's just me. I get wanting your daughter to be "girly" and playful and have tea parties and especially wanting them to dream big and aspire to be anything they want to be. I want all that for my daughter, too. But I sure as hell am not going to sit around and encourage her to be the spoiled, snotty, entitled little girl that you find today. Because that is what has happened to these girls now by using the term "Princess".

Future Engineer Las Vegas Showgirl!

Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis was not an actual Princess, but her, along with Princess Grace, Princess Diana and even the newly tiara'd Princess Kate... these were/are classy, intelligent, educated women. They were courted and treated with respect, they bowed and curtsied and knew their place. They were appropriately attired (read: no tata's or bare va-jay-jay's hanging out all over the place), spoke calmly and eloquently, were civilized and just all around decent women. All I see today are rude, obnoxious little girls who think they were placed on this earth so that you could serve them. Prime Example: Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, all 16 5 of the Kardashian girls. These chicks are famous because they are rich, spoiled girls, NOT because they have done amazing and incredible things with their lives.

These days if a girl turns 12 and isn't immediately handed a smartphone, credit card, facebook account, some sort of "Pod" made by Apple (damn you Apple!), and a credit card, then they whine and complain and throw tantrums like a 3 year old and insist that you must hate them and want them to die. I know this to be true because I have seen this with my own eyes... in public and in private.

How can you not love all that hair?

Two of my nieces are 13 years old and one of them has had an iPhone since she was 11. Her Mother gave it to her and keeps upgrading it whenever they come out with a new version. They actually had an argument the other day on facebook (Mom lives in NJ, about 4 hours away) because the contract isn't up yet, but my niece "broke" her phone and wanted a new one. Ok, let's flash back for a minute. When I was 11 I had a hello kitty diary with a sparkly pink pen, tons of those puffy stickers, a pink banana-seat bike and posters of NKOTB on my wall (with a big heart drawn around Jordan Knight's face). Remember when you begged and pleaded for money because you just HAD TO HAVE that pair of Jordache jeans or those mulit-color hi-tops or the hyper-color shirts because "all the other kids" were wearing them? Usually you could scrape a few extra bucks together by babysitting or doing some extra chores. But it's not like that anymore. Yes, some of it is technology's fault for advancing so quickly that these kids kind of don't have a choice BUT to grow up and expect these things. Now all of a sudden every one of the kids at your children's school ACTUALLY DO HAVE EVERYTHING. Even the kids you thought were on welfare are walking around with blinged out cell phones!

It's just so much worse amongst the girls, too. And it only exacerbates the issue when they go home and Mommy and Daddy call them "Princess". I have called The Girl "Diva" on occasion because she has been know to get demanding. But I have never said it in a way that would make her think that it's a good thing. Because The Girl is going to know 3 things as soon as she is old enough to understand:

1. If you want to be respected, then be respectful. Respect is earned, not given away like a lollypop at the bank.
2. Be Thankful - for everything from the minute you wake up each day. And the moment you stop, I'm donating everything you own to a kid that has nothing.
3. Everything can change in an instant - for better or worse. So take nothing for granted and thank God you were one of the lucky ones that got to be born in America and not some 3rd world nation.

So please, Ladies, PLEASE for the love of Maude, STOP calling your little girls "Princess". It's not healthy. Unless your daughter actually IS a Princess, then by all means... *curtsies*

Adios, people.

Insane in the Membrane... Part 1

The Husband's biological mother (my BIO-MIL) is literally hanging on my very last, teeny, tiny, nerve. I totally told her to put her big girl panties on and grow up.

Here's a little background: The Husband's parents are divorced and each parent is remarried. My parents are also divorced and my Father is remarried (to the woman he knocked up while he was still married to my Mom... but that's a whooooole other story!). So the short people have 7 grandparents, but only 3 live locally and are active in their lives: The Husband's Dad & Step-Mom (aka Grammy & Peepaw) and my Mom (Meemie). The Crazy Cougar BIO-MIL and her husband - who is 12 years younger, ewww - moved to SC in 2006. That's about 9 hours away from us. *Claps excitedly* My Father and his family live in California, where I am originally from. The Husband grew up broke (not "poor") and so did I, but my family has always had some class and appreciates the finer things in life. Like china, cloth napkins and toothpaste. His family is straight up marlboro redneck. And I'm so not exaggerating.

BIO-MIL, The Husband and I have a long history (6 years or so) of "communication problems". Basically, the woman is a head case. I'm 100% certain she has depression, she has lots of anxiety, especially in public and she's probably got a personality disorder. Since the entire FECKING family has joined Facebook, it has only gotten worse. Now there is no need for her to visit or contact anyone that doesn't live near her because she can "talk to and see them" ALL.DAY.LONG. She ACTUALLY stalks me on Facebook. It's a fact. I have posted a status and when I refresh the page 5 SECONDS later, she's already either a.) Clicked "Like", b.) Posted 1 or more nonsensical comments, or c.) All of the above. Dios mio. She's actually gotten into comment "wars" with my Dad, several of my friends, my soon-to-be Sister-in-Law, myself and her own son. Here's a few examples of her comments:

My Status: Grocery shopping without the kids OR the husband. Dreams do come true!
BIO-MIL: how did you manage that?
ME: Drugged husband. Kids duct-taped to the wall. (I actually typed this and then erased it. I really should have just posted it. Did she forget I married her son, who despite her raising him, has become a very intelligent and respectable human being?!)

A few days later I posted a link to Mommyland's Top Ten Reason's Why 3 is Worse Than 2. In the comments section we find:

BIO-MIL: LOL I always thought 3's were worse. I didnt mind the terrible twos at all. Are you guys alright?
ME: Everything's fine, why?
BIO-MIL: Just wondering I had written my son a couple of times asking and he hasnt responded other then my request for your address again. I dont need it now, I found it in another location. Just wanted to be sure everything was alright. love ya

Posted to my wall 4 DAYS after the exchange above: Hi, hope all is well. Wrote my son a couple of times asking how you guys are, but have heard nothing. Love you guys and again I hope everythings going good for you
Comment #1: omg, I meant havent heard anything LOL sorry
ME: We're good... Your son has been extremely busy with work and we were very busy this weekend, but overall things are good. I'm just home with the kids. No news is good news with us.
BIO-MIL: LOL I understand that. Well good. Glad to hear it and glad you got your laptop the way you want it. Have fun with it

She complained about being broke so we've offered her money for gas and free lodging to visit us, to meet the kids and have even given her a special phone number that is free for her to use to call us. She declines the money and lodging using lame excuses and never calls. And when we get upset, she says "why don't YOU call ME?" Um, Hello? We DO. We DID. You don't ANSWER. You don't call BACK. I'm get a little dumber every time I deal with her. I sent her a private FB message and basically broke it down for her and told her that we were no longer going to communicate through Facebook. It wasn't healthy. And that she needed to make more of an effort to call or write to the kids because she doesn't know them. And then I said this: " And don't tell me it is because you don't have the money to do it. Because if you can buy a pack of cigarettes, you can buy a calling card. You probably don't like that I said that, and if it made you mad, then I've made my point, because IT'S THE TRUTH and you know it." Oh yes, I did.

To which she responded: "It is SO important for us to have verbal contact in yours and my son's opinion, why dont you call us. You have free long distance and still dont call. Maybe if you gave up drinking you could afford it."

WHUCK? Give up "drinking"? I'm not a wine-o! I mean, I like wine (a lot) but on average, I have about 1, MAYBE 2 glasses a week. Some months I have them all in one night. Some months I have nothing. I didn't tell her to give up smoking, I just illustrated that if she could buy a pack of smokes, she could afford to call us. And last time I checked, my 1 year old doesn't know who you are, so why should she call you?

And I guess that's where I have the most confusion, uneasiness or maybe it's a microscopic bit of maybeiamwrong-ness. From the day I met The Husband almost 9 (NINE!!) years ago, we have been upfront and open and honest with this psycho. We've made all of the efforts to go visit HER once a year, to offer HER money, etc. The Husband's step-mom, "Grammy" calls me randomly once a week or so just to say Hi and make sure things are ok. This past weekend, she showed up with 5 bags of shrimp, grapes and a chicken. For no reason! I HEART her like my own mother.

So I ask you: Are we wrong in wanting BIO-MIL to step up and get to know her grandkids, to make a little effort and contact US for a change? I honestly want some outside opinion, so feel free to leave a comment below.

Make it a good week - I'm going to try to despite all of this! :) Adios, people.

Silver Lining #1

Thanks to my buddy over at My Belles Choses (who, according to her, is enjoying her life now that it has beaten the crap out of her!) I'm going to post a weekly happy thought. Because I complain. A LOT. But I DO have stuff in my life that is good and worth smiling for and definitely worth getting up for in the morning. So once a week I'll make a point to pay tribute to a friend and smile verbally.

I should have hidden in the laundry room.

This week was a hot one. And the kids and I were mostly trapped in the house. Thank God for air conditioning! But probably my favorite part of the whole week was when the kids and I played "hide and seek" for an hour. Now, remember, The Boy is 4 and The Girl is 16 months. It went something like this:

Me (sitting on the couch): I'm going to cover my eyes and count to ten. You go hide!
The Boy: OK!! Hahahahahahahaha.... (runs around in a circle)
Me: Go hide! I'll cover my eyes and count to ten and then come find you!
The Boy: OK!! Hahahahahahahaha....
Me: 1, 2, ..... 10! Ready or not here I come! (uncover my eyes)
The Boy: Here I am! (pops up from behind the ottoman)
The Girl: Woo-hoo! *claps excitedly*
Me: Ok... let's try this a different way. Mommy is going to hide. YOU sit on the couch, close your eyes and count to ten, then find Mommy.
The Boy: OK! Hide behind the couch!
Me: Um... I'm going to hide somewhere else.
The Boy: OK! 1, 2, 3, 4... (I run to the kitchen and hide beside the fridge)... 9, 10! Ready or not, I'm going to get you! (Walks into the kitchen and I jump out at him.)
Me: BOO!
The Boy: AHHH!!! MOMMY! That was so much FUN, let's do it AGAIN!!!!!!
The Girl: Woo-hoo!

So we did... for an hour. We took turns "hiding" and letting The Girl help seek. I even managed to cram myself into the playhouse at one point and he thought that was the best thing ever. And it totally, truly was.

Enjoy your weekend. Be safe. Adios, people.

Don't Make Me Hit You With My Pocketbook...

Dear Husband,

I think we have a communication breakdown. By that I mean I have communicated several times to you how I feel about certain things and you conveniently ignore for forget them. You work very hard for our family and we appreciate everything you do for us. With out you, there'd be no family... no home... no food... it would suck pretty bad. Monday nights are your poker night, and I have accepted that and hope you have nothing but safe fun while you are out. I'm even ok with every-other Wednesday's poker night after your team meeting. Hell, we are even having a poker night here at our house in 2 days! So overall, what I am saying is, you deserve your time off.

Well, so do I. I know I created this blog and most of my rants around all the crap I don't do around the house. But I DO actually accomplish quite a bit around here. I know our laundry may be a clean pile of clothes resembling Mt. Everest, but it's a CLEAN pile. Randy the Laundry Fairy did not get those clothes washed and dried, of that I can assure you. I also keep you and our short people fed. And let me tell you, that is not easy. You usually consume the food of 1.75 people and the short people eat every two hours. What makes it worse is they eat like refugees at a $3.99 Vegas All-You-Can-Eat Buffet (sending the kids to Vegas for lunch is probably cheaper than my bi-weekly grocery bill, actually). I have also been keeping the sink clean. It hasn't been easy, and I do ignore the dishes on Sundays, but overall, I get it done. I even spend a total of about 2 hours a day picking shoes up and putting them back into the shoe basket in our entry way after The Girl Shoe Diva has scattered them around the house.

So when, instead of spending my ONE measly free night a week doing my own thing, I go to the MARKET, and GROCERY SHOP for our family (it WAS nice to shop without short OR tall people!), I don't want to come home at 10:40pm and step into a dark living room (because you went to bed at 8:55 and turned off all the lights) and TRIP over 4 shoes, a toy drill and 6 magnets. And when I finally manage to turn the kitchen light on with my hands full of the 6 bags I carried in by myself, I don't want to see a pile of dinner dishes thrown into the sink and a pizza smeared high chair tray on the counter. The dishwasher was empty. I looked you in the eyeballs before I left and said this to you - out.loud.

Of course after I put everything away, I cleaned up the dishes and the tray and all the shoes, etc. Because I don't want to undo all the progress I have made. And it makes me feel disrespected. Think of it like this: all those nights you go out and play poker and you do really well and you have a great time and you come home all relaxed and happy and maybe I'm in a good mood too after having a glass or two of wine (wink, wink)....... and you get a CSC call because none of the on-call guys will answer their phones and you are the only person that can fix this server issue. You know how much that sucks? I know you do, because I have seen it happen quite a few times. Well that's what it feels like when you leave the dishes and don't put a tray away and don't make the kids pick up the toys that are in our walkway. Especially when you know I am coming home with bags of groceries. So please, can you just try to clean up after yourself and the kids? I'm not asking you to grab the mop and hit the floors or scrub the toilet (OMG you'd get some mad happy time if you did though!). Just tidy up the few things you and the kids use/play with/destroy while I am gone.

I do have to say, though, more than anything, I am mad that you went bed at 8:55pm. You suck. But I love you anyway.

xoxo,
Your Lazy Wife

Delirious from the Heat? Maybe...

Eagads... 8 days with no complaining? I must have been hella busy. Ha! Yeah right, I wish. Well, actually, no not really. It's actually been too hot to do much of anything. I *have* been keeping the kitchen, dining room and living room clean. I have even been putting clothes AWAY. Like folded, put in a dresser drawer away. I honestly don't know what has gotten into me, except that maybe the other day I was eating my lunch while the short people were napping (and I use that term loosely as The Boy no longer naps...) and I was watching my "stories" and looking around the room thinking I needed to dust again but I didn't feel like it. And I also needed to vacuum. And unload the dishwasher. And fold a 7ft foot tall pile of clean clothes. But instead I finished watching my show and then took a 30 min nap. Epitomy of Laziness, right here, folks! So I started thinking... and you know how much I like to do that! And I came up with a reward system for myself. If I did a little bit of "work" in the morning and afternoon and evening (read: made dinner AND cleaned up 3 nights in a row!!) then I wouldn't feel so bad about that show and nap. I could do it more often and not feel guilty because I would actually DESERVE it.

I put clean, folded laundry away. This was my Thanks. Score!

Friends and family tell me all the time that they don't expect everything around our house to be perfect because I have two small kids and that it is not easy raising kids and staying home with them. And The Husband gives me a LOOK and then rolls his eyes because he & I both know what they don't: that while yes, it is hard raising kids and keeping up your home, for the most part I don't do nearly what I should. But the past 7 days we have been going through and sorting out stuff that we don't NEED (55lbs of toys have now been condesnsed to a manageable 20lbs). Because the fact is, we have a lot of crap in this house that is making it harder to keep under control. So out it goes (hello Craigslist!) and in comes a new attitude from me. But I know myself, so I'm starting slow and will work my way up to being one of those Mommies that has everything together, is on time, has a clean house 99% of the time, whose car doesn't smell like french fries and an old sock and well ok, maybe I am getting ahead of myself, but I have recognized my weaknesses and I am working on them. The Husband has been pleased. And in this house a Happy Husband is a Happy Husband that likes to randomly give me money to buy myself something pretty. Sounds like a win-win! Adios, people. Stay cool.

Fruit + Wine = Awesomeness

I was at Target last week (shocking, I know!). I needed diapers and wine before heading to Mrs. W's house for a little girl time and some drunken waxing. I didn't know what to get because I just wasn't in my usual "Moscato" mood... and then I remembered the T-Box. The ladies over in Mommyland coined the term "T-Box" and while it's a funny term, I never thought I would actually buy a Box of Wine from Target. But I did. I couldn't stop myself. There it was, a small yellow cube, with the words "white sangria" written on the side, for the low price of $11.99. Upon closer inspection it showed that 1 cube was the equivalent of 2 bottles of wine. It also mentioned that it would be even more yummy if you added some fruit like berries.

Also available in juice box size - straw optional.

So I squealed with delight and grabbed a T-Box while a young couple analyzing two bottles of red wine gave me a disgusted look. But you know what, I don't care if the bottle of wine you are buying costs $125. If you are buying it at Target you have no right to judge me! Anyway, I grabbed the Sangria and practically ran to see if the strawberries were on sale... they were!!! Thank you Fruit God. I was so excited to get the strawberries into the wine and drink it, I could barely see straight.

After arriving at Mrs. W's house and hanging out with her and Jameson for a bit, we broke out the berries and the T-Box. It.Was.Awesome. I'm not a red wine fan, so this white wine mix was perfect. And I'm happy to announce that everyone was waxed safely before too much alcohol was consumed.

Right now I'm going to get the short people into bed so I can crack open a Riesling. It's been a long week and Mama needs a glass o' juice. Adios, people. Don't drink and drive.

Top 10 - Things That Shouldn't Be Washed

My List... From *sigh* to WHAT THE HELL is THAT?!

#10 Receipts and notes
Not a fun thing to find, but at least they tend to "clump" and get sucked into the lint trap for easy removal.
#9 Tissues and napkins
Now the only reason I know a tissue has been washed is because when I pull a shirt out of the dryer, something like cocaine tends to puff out of the shirt pocket. And since The Husband sleeps ALL THE TIME, I know it's not blow.
#8 Coins
In case you didn't know, I am 5'4" on a good day with a 44F chest (that's right, 44F. And they were free. As in I grew them myself.)... so finding a PENNY at the bottom of the washing machine usually results in something that looks like a midget dove head first into pickle barrel. Short legs flailing in the air, muffled expletives from inside... you get the idea. Because the coins are always STUCK to bottom of the washer. And on the rare occasion that I get the laundry out of the dryer right after it's done, those suckers are HOT!
#7 Paper Money
Long ago I claimed that any money found while doing the laundry belonged to me. I even have a little coin cup. But finding a clean, crisp bill torn in half or into confetti just makes me mad. You'd think I would learn to check pockets, but seriously, it's enough that I am doing the laundry. Police your own clothes, people!!!
#6 Lighters
I'm constantly finding these stupid colorful little plastic tubes full of liquid fire. Yes, I saw the mythbusters episode that explains that lighters can be put in the washer/dryer and it will be fine. But it's gross.
#5 Rocks and Sand
A quick trip to the beach or the playground turns into 3 days of washing the same pair of underwear because 3 grains of sand will not.wash.away.
#4 My Cell Phone
So it was a complete preggo moment. And I said I just put it in there... but really I washed it.
#3 Markers and Pens
Some come apart. Some don't. It's like roulette, but with sharp pointy things that can stab you and make you bleed.
#2 Crayons
The wrappers separate and you are left with a bald crayon... or some paper and colorful clothes. :/
#1 A pack of cigarettes
That's right. Smokes. The filters come out whole, plastic gets chewed up and there's tobacco on everything. EVERYTHING. Like the evil laundry gnomes jumped in during the soak part and shredded the pack, laughing hysterically the whole time.
Thank God for my Dyson!! Adios, people.

Red, Red Wine...

Because not everyone can pull off a unibrow.

Hope everyone had a great 4th of July! Ours was pretty low key... we kind of like it that way. But we are definitely not digging the DC fireworks anymore. We've decided to try and plan a trip to NYC next year for the Macy's fireworks show. That was a sweet show.
Anyway, tonight I was able to escape the dungeon with minimal screaming from the short people. Ended up having a great night out with Mrs. W and her good buddy "Jameson". We headed over to her new neighbors house (those are some crazy cool SOB's!!) and had a blast drinking wine and trying to play some card game that none of us either knew or could remember how to play. Eventually it was abandoned for more drinking, talking and lots of laughter. I haven't laughed that hard in a long time and I am hoarse because of it. All in all, one of the best nights in a long time. Thank you much ladies. I am looking forward to seeing you next week for some drunken waxing. :)

Reality Check

Dear Miss Priss,
I hope you had a safe flight home. I hope you had a nice visit while you were here. I hope your feet don't hurt from all that walking you did in DC wearing flip flops. But mostly I hope that one day soon you will GROW.THE.FUCK.UP. Seriously? Temper tantrums, moodiness, whining, lack of communication... I sound like I am describing my 4 year old, not a 22 year old woman about to graduate from college!! You are one of the most selfish, rude, and completely oblivious people I have ever encountered. I was absolutely floored. I gave you a gift - you did not thank me even once. And I'm sorry, but "oh, cool" does not mean THANK YOU! You wear 1/4" flat flip flops (designer flip flops, to boot!) to walk around DC all day long and then complain that you are tired and your feet hurt. News flash: flat shoes + lots of walking + big feet = tired, cramped feet. You claim to be somewhat of a "fashionista"... shouldn't you know that by now? And maybe, just maybe, when everyone around you is pitching in to clean up a meal that you took 2nds and probably 3rds from, you could put the iPhone down for like 5 minutes and throw some napkins away?

Now, what I am most upset about is that you have no idea - NONE! - about how to function on your own in the real world. You have an unrealistic view of life... and part of that is yo' mama's fault. At 22 years old, I had moved MYSELF across the entire country four times. FOUR. I was working my 3rd professional full time job and living on my own. Paying my own bills. Ruining my own credit. My Mommy was not paying all my bills and depositing money into my account so I could go to concerts and shop, take some classes and pretend to work. Yes, that's right, pretend to work. Showing people empty apartments is NOT real work. Making 25 copies of a document at 8am that you stayed up until 3am editing and then distributing them at a 9am department meeting and then taking the minutes of the meeting is REAL WORK. Spending the night in a dark, empty pet store counting all the GOLDFISH is REAL WORK. Teaching adult women, such as yourself, how to wax someone's legs is REAL WORK. Walking around playing Vanna White is not.

One day you will wake up and it will be YOUR responsibility to pay for your own car, gas, insurance, rent, electricity, water, cell phone bill... see where I'm going with this? And I don't mean just paying the bill. I mean EARNING the MONEY that you need to pay those bills. Regular shopping sprees at name brand stores with your Mom is not normal. What you spent on shopping and eating during your visit would pay for my kids diapers for 3-4 months. You need to wake up and realize that you have been spoiled your whole life and soon... oh, so very soon, it's going to stop. And then you'll be freaking out. Please do yourself a favor and don't come crying to me.

Oh, and if you aren't going to meet someone when you say you will, do the decent thing and let them know beforethey waste their entire day waiting on your fat ass.

Sincerely,
Your Cousin

PS You are not a size 10. Quit wearing short that a 12 year old couldn't even fit into. Thigh cheese is not cute.

Mama Said Knock You Out!

2 family members have come to visit for the red, white and blue holiday. My Auntie Em and Cousin Miss Priss. I'm really bad about remembering to get to the post office (see previous posts about lack of transportation!!). So I had a few gifts for Miss Priss and gave them to her last night. It's been over 24 hours and I have not heard a "Thank You" yet. That's the last time she'll be getting gifts, I can tell you that.

Tonight a bunch of us went to eat. The evening went great - especially the part where I consumed a hybrid strawberry daquiri-pina colada thing that was the size of my face. That was fecking awesome. But other than that, things were pretty low key. Until the drama that is Miss Priss happened. That girl cannot just have a normal day. She went into the city on the metro with her mom (Auntie Em) & a family friend and proceeded to be bi-polar most of the day. She then ditched them to meet up with some friends. She finally made her way back to the metro around 10ish tonight and proceeded to transfer to the wrong train. We know this because she sent a text. Then she got on the right train and her phone died. We (her mom, my mom [sisters] and I were waiting to pick her up at the last stop) didn't mind, we were just hanging out. Miss Priss finally showed up and refused to walk the 15 feet to the car... just stood there motioning like a maniac. Her mom pulled up a few feet and then I waved out the window that she needed to go around the car. Then she threw a fit. Huffed, puffed and complained that her feet hurt and she was too tired to talk. As she got in the car, I looked at her feet and noticed she was wearing flat designer flip flops. So I casually mentioned that maybe next time she should wear sneakers. DUHHHHH. She said nothing as she flopped onto the seat, slumped down and went to sleep.

They dropped me off first, I said goodbye to everyone but Miss Priss didn't say a word. Did I mention Miss Priss is TWENTY TWO years old!? Is she too old for a spanking? Not that this is really anything new. I mean she's been this way practically since birth. Bottom line: spoiled, prissy, know-it-all young people piss me off. I'm going to try and sleep now. Adios, people.

Bullseye

God.Bless.America.

The short people and I were watching a cartoon the other day on one of the new kiddie channels we got after we tossed out the satellite and got cable (bundle deal, saved us some cash). A commercial came on for a new Capt. America toy... basically it's big shield, but it shoots stuff at people. Awesome. Yeah, that's what The Boy thought. Now, he already has a Capt. America face mask AND shield... but his doesn't shoot stuff (thank God). So he sat there watching this commercial, literally NOT breathing.

When it was over he looked at me and said in one breath "Mommy!! I have to get that Captain America shield to use with my other Captain America shield because that one can shoot stuff and the other one can block stuff and then I can be the REAL Captain America." I just stared at him and said "Really?" and then he says "Yes. Let's go get one at Target." That's right, Target. My 4 year old already knows that if we really need something, you go to Target.

Oddly enough, we went there today (yes I was just there last week, don't judge, The Girl needed a refill on her meds) and I was seriously worried about what would happen when we got there. I don't ever. EVER. go near the toy section when we are there. We managed to get in and get out without any mention of any kind of superhero. Score! I even got them *both* down for a nap right now... so I'm off to read or watch a trashy soap or something while I can. Housework be damned today! Adios, people.

Non Sequitur

I am tired. So very, very tired. The Girl ended up in the ER the other day for IV fluids as well. Paid the doctor's office $25 to tell me to go to the ER. What a waste of cash. Anyway, that was like THE worst thing I have ever had to watch. But I am praying they are all better. And since we are currently day 3 with no vomit, I'm thinking we're good to go.

On the downside, I've not been sleeping much (averaging 3.5 hours per night) and it's really taking it's toll. Nothing is getting done, just shifted around. Big shock there... but really, I had started cleaning! Kind of. Mostly. And even though I've been trying to keep the living room really neat, it's destroyed in 30 seconds after the kids wake up. I like blankets. I have a few tossed around the couches. Apparently they look like tents and tunnels to the short people. Which normally I would think is really cute. But The Boy makes a tunnel or tent and then The Girl comes along, rips the blanket down and walks into the playroom with it. This elicits a lot of yelling, whining and "she took my blanket AGAIN!"

So instead of going to bed at a reasonable hour - before midnight? - I sit at the computer until late at night/early morning and try and design stuff people might actually buy. And I might look at facebook. Certain people in my family are entertaining with all their "I don't want any drama in my life" drama. But it would be nice to earn some money for a change. Feel free to send me some if you like. I'm sorry that I can't promise not to buy booze.

Well I suppose it's time to make the short people their like 4th meal of the day... seriously, one of them needs to get a job to pay for all the groceries they consume. Also, I'm getting kicked out of my office space because The Husband needs to call clients. Or watch the end of "The Price is Right" in a quiet environment. Whatever. Adios, people.

Hakuna Matata

I had to go to Target today. Yes, HAD to... we needed diapers and about $90 worth of... um. Whatever, we needed diapers. But after the craptastic weekend I was determined to not leave the house without a shower. A real shower. You know, the kind where you get to shave your legs and use conditioner. So I waited until about 9:45am when The Girl was getting worn out and The Boy was ready for his 9th snack of the morning. So I stuck The Girl in the pack and play (praying that she didn't decide to finally throw herself out of it and escape), put The Boy on the couch and turned on our new Sprout channel that The Boy is always whinning to watch. BTW, that is the strangest channel ever, nothing lasts for more than 12 minutes. I can't tell if it's a good thing or a bad thing.

Anyway, I headed upstairs and hopped in the shower and started doing my thing, making a mental list of the items needed at the store. Then I hear this weird music and The Boy opens the door yelling "Mommy? Are you still in the shower??" I yelled back that yes I was and to please close the door and go watch tv. He then say excitedly "But Mommy, I just brought you some music to relax!" And again, I hear this music. Last year for Christmas, their Titi (what we call his Godmother) bought him a book with shortened versions of disney movies... Nemo, 101 Dalmations, Jungle Book and The Lion King. Along with it was this 2 button "CD player" that played plastic 3 inch CD's with instrumental muzak versions of the popular songs. For my showering pleasure, The Boy had selected "The Lion King" - and had somehow gotten it to loop the first song over and over and over and over. By the time I said "thanks but no thanks" he was long gone.

I'm not quite sure what happened after that. The next thing I know I am rinsing off my blue scrubby loofah thing and for the life of me, I can't remember if I shaved my armpits or even washed my lady bits. I think I zoned out - or fell asleep standing up for 3 minutes! (And yes, as it turns out I had washed and shaved...) So I guess I owe The Boy a bit of Thanks. It was a good shower. And when I went downstairs, The Girl was still confined.

Little did I know that the "good day" we were all having would end with The Girl projectile vomiting all over the table at IHop during dinner. I cleaned her up as best as I could, left a fat tip and NASCARed my way home. And it was during those 5 minutes that I was in the bathroom, giving my daughter a whore bath so she didn't smell like a junkie during detox, that I realized something very important:
I hate vomit.

Adios, people.

Getting Down with the Sickness

My TiVorgasm was short lived. Ended up in the ER Friday/Saturday at the ass crack of dawn with The Boy. The Girl had puked a few times Wednesday/Thursday but I thought it was from all the drool and snot (she's teething... and snotty). The Boy was fine. Totally fine. Until 8pm Friday night when he said his tummy hurt (his code for "I'm about to shit myself") and he took off for the bathroom. He stood in the doorway and puked up about a pound of chicken lo mein. Oddly enough, it doesn't change color when it hits your stomach. Just sayin'. He then proceeded to yack every 20-30 minutes for the next hour and a half. After talking with the on-call Doc, we decided to watch him sleep, since he'd passed out in the living room next to the puke bucket. He stayed asleep for about 2 hours when he woke up and retched again. I felt bad for the little guy, he throws up violently, like I do. :(

Anyway, around 1am, The Husband decides we shouldn't watch him anymore because it's not doing any good so I got dressed and took The Boy to the ER. 5 hours, an IV, 2 belly x-rays and a cute toy bunny later (courtesy of the ER Doc), we were sent home. Nothing was really wrong with him, so it was probably viral. Just wait it out. But at least he'd been re-hydrated. Got home at 6am and staggered to bed just to hear The Girl wake up 45 minutes later. She did that not quite awake thing where they cry for a second and then are silent for 10 minutes... so I ignored her. An hour later she started howling. So I kicked The Husband out of bed and made him get her. But of course I had to go help because she'd puked on HER HEAD and had pooped. On EVERYTHING! Sheets, crib bumper, clothes. You name it, there was poop on it. So she got a 5 minute bath and then I dumped her on The Husband, who was looking kind of green. I didn't care. I wanted sleep.

5 hours later The Boy and I got up to find a very ill Husband and cranky Girl. I spent the entire weekend trapped in the house while The Husband, The Boy and The Girl took turns blowing up the bathroom or puking on my floor. By Sunday (Happy Father's Day! Want some breakfast??? No?) The Boy and The Girl seemed better - they were playing and fighting, all good signs and The Husband spent the day asleep. I tried to do as little as possible but still managed to make a nice dinner and a cake. Tomorrow (today) I've got to get cracking and disinfect the house, clean as much as possible and start getting this house in order. After 3 days of gross, sick kids I want a clean house. I deserve it. And the next time all 3 of them get sick, I'm going to the Marriott. They're nice there... they have clean sheets and a pool. Adios, people.
****************************
Feliz Dia de los Padres. Especialmente a mi esposo, el mejor papa del mundo para mis hijos. Aprecio todo lo que haces para dar a nosotros una vida buena. Te amo y deseo que te mejores rapido. xoxo besos xoxo

Season Pass

Seriously, I should just say "Honey, I want to talk about what's bothering me" more often... because apparently when The Husband hears that, he thinks "wow, she opened up to me, I should buy her a gift." And gift he did! I've got TiVo again baby!!! He said it was my belated anniversary gift. Whatever, it's in the living room!!! And it will be hooked up next week! SWEET!! I've missed my TiVo so very much! We had DirecTV, but we just moved the phone and tv over to comcast and did a bundle thingy to save some money. I'm so excited, it's like Christmas! Wait... I didn't get a Christmas present either. I wonder what I'll have to do to get one in July? Probably clean something, dammit. Ok, time to make 2 lists. "Stuff I Want" and "Stuff That Needs to be Clean ASAP." If you think I'm joking... you must be new here. Adios, people.

Summer Dreams...

So I broke down and confessed all the crap I had been ranting about in the two previous blogs to The Husband. And he said "I would probably feel the same way if I were you." HUH?! I was totally expecting to have to defend myself and argue... and he got all quiet and just listened to me. And then he just hugged me. He even let me cry without saying "don't do that!" Wow. I forget sometimes in all the day to day crap that it was little things like this that made me fall in love with him.

So it looks like we're going to start new and fresh. And I've decided to (for the most part) get up off my bum (ok, at least 2 or 3 times a day) and DO something around the house. I mean I did little things like vacuum (when the kids smashed up the their snacks), dishes (usually), dust (sometimes if the black furniture was turning grey) and laundry (it's not that hard to toss clothes around!). What I really need to do is get myself into a routine. Funny how I managed to give one (mostly) to the kids... but I just have totally neglected myself.

Well, time to get crackin. Wish me luck cuz I'm gonna need it. Being lazy is sooooo easy. Adios People.

Think, Think, Think...

Ok, so I came across a blog called "What Makes a Good Wife" and it has the 1950's version of what to do for your husband. It inlcudes items such as:

• Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready on time for his return. This is a way of letting him know that you have be thinking about him and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they come home and the prospect of a good meal (especially his favourite dish) is part of the warm welcome needed.
• Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you’ll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh-looking. He has just been with a lot of work-weary people.
• Be a little gay and a little more interesting for him. His boring day may need a lift and one of your duties is to provide it.
• Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives. Run a dustcloth over the tables.
• Over the cooler months of the year you should prepare and light a fire for him to unwind by. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift too. After all, catering for his comfort will provide you with immense personal satisfaction.
• Minimize all noise. At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer or vacuum. Encourage the children to be quiet.
• Be happy to see him.
• Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him.
• Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first - remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours.
• Make the evening his. Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner or other places of entertainment without you. Instead, try to understand his world of strain and pressure and his very real need to be at home and relax.
• Your goal: To try and make sure your home is a place of peace, order, and tranquility where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit.
• Don’t greet him with complaints and problems.
• Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or have him lie down in the bedroom. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him.
• Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes. Speak in a low, soothing and pleasant voice.
• Don’t ask him questions about his actions or question his judgment or integrity. Remember, he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to question him.
•A good wife always knows her place.

And I scoffed. YEAH RIGHT. Good luck honey! Pfftt... no way. I'm not going to be a door mat. Then I scrolled down to see all the comments. The *positive* comments that a wife should WANT to provide for her husband and family and if she is lucky enough to stay home, then she should do it with joy. Lots of references to Proverbs 31 in the bible, which, I'm sorry to say that I had to google because I have no clue where my bible is right now.
Here it is... Proverbs 31: 10-31.

10 A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies.
11 Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value.
12 She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life.
13 She selects wool and flax and works with eager hands.
14 She is like the merchant ships, bringing her food from afar.
15 She gets up while it is still night; she provides food for her family and portions for her female servants.
16 She considers a field and buys it; out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.
17 She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks.
18 She sees that her trading is profitable, and her lamp does not go out at night.
19 In her hand she holds the distaff and grasps the spindle with her fingers.
20 She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy.
21 When it snows, she has no fear for her household; for all of them are clothed in scarlet.
22 She makes coverings for her bed; she is clothed in fine linen and purple.
23 Her husband is respected at the city gate, where he takes his seat among the elders of the land.
24 She makes linen garments and sells them, and supplies the merchants with sashes.
25 She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.
26 She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
27 She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness.
28 Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her:
29 “Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.”
30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.
31 Honor her for all that her hands have done, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.

Hmmm... ok. So The Bible Wife and the 50's Wife are two TOTALLY DIFFERENT PEOPLE. The Bible Wife would totally kick 50's Wife's ass. I mean, the bitch is out there buying real estate and making wine. That's my kind of lady!

In all seriousness, this has really made me think. We're supposed to be a Christian family. God is important to us - that was one of the main reasons we joined and got married in the church. We wanted the church and God as part of our lives, to give our children a foundation that they could build upon when they grew up. And yes, I know, for a church going woman, I have a pretty foul mouth, but in my defense our Sr. Pastor has uttered quite a few expletives himself. So my feeling is, I can always ask for forgiveness! Huh. Ok. New thought. What makes me so special that I can ask for forgiveness, but not give it? I don't want to be one of those old, crotchety women that holds on to one mistake her husband made 25 years ago and has been tormenting him for ever since... Like my Grandma. Damn. Time to think. Adios people.

Rest in Pieces Redd

It's crazy how the smallest comment will set you off. I was on FB and noticed a friend comment that she'll be on vacation next week, but won't have her car... then proceeded to complain about how hard it would be to not have a car all week. Then her 11 year old son (also on FB - gonna rant about that soon!!) comments something like "yeah thats gonna suck". Hey, kid, you know what sucks even harder? Not having a car for SEVEN months! I know, I have beaten that horse to death, but I need to get this out once and for all. Really I am just at the point where I have zero sympathy for people that don't have a car for a few days. I totally grew up taking the bus places when there wasn't a car, and if there was one out here in podunk, I would use it!

So that car comment got me thinking about my long-gone car "Redd", which made me think of my Abuelo's (who gave it to me), which just made me sad and mad. I hated that car. It was like 2 steps below the base line model (what car doesn't come with cruise control?!) and it was that "Hey, Cop, I'm over here!" Red color that only guys in their 50's choose for their mid-life crisis "Por-shuh". But it had no payments. It was NEW (299 miles) when it came to me and IT.WAS.MINE. It was my reward for all of the bullsh!t drama I put up with putting myself through school, the late night studying, the extra long work hours, having two jobs and having to *gasp* move back in with my mother just to finish school. Getting the car was like a little sigh of relief, the one thing I didn't have to worry about. It was, symbolically, a pat on the back and a "We are proud of you!" statement from my Abuelo's. And now all that is gone. It's not doing anyone any good for me to keep complaining about not having the car anymore. So I'm going to make a conscious effort to stop. What's done is done, and I've not been dealing with it well. But whining doesn't help and it's starting to make ME crazy, so with this post, I'm letting you go, Redd. Thanks for all the trips, for always starting up when I needed you to, for always having cold or warm air for me, and for the great gas mileage. I'm truly sorry I didn't appreciate you more. R.I.P.

Me & Redd on Day 1. The extra "D" was the only extra this car had. ;)

School's Out... dammit.

Wow. Two months flew by since I posted last. My bad! In my defense, I got un-lazy for a while. I started cleaning, cooking, and getting out of the house a little bit because The Husband's job lets him work from home a few times a week now. Which was all great... until the pipe above the water heater blew up. I discovered it at about 7:00am on a Thursday in early May. The only time I have ever been thankful that The Girl woke up earlier than usual! There was so much water in the basement, we could have let the kids play in it. So the water was shut off and I waited for a plumber. And I waited. And I waited. For NINE HOURS!!! WHO makes a SAHM with 2 small kids wait NINE hours to get the water turned back on?! I was FURIOUS. But The Husband didn't think there was anything wrong with that. Apparently I don't understand the service industry and that it takes time to respond to an emergency. Really? What was I supposed to do if one of my kids puked? Or took a massive shit... which The Boy DID on the way home from school!!! Thank GOD for my neighbor (big props to Mrs. W!!!) - she gave me a key to her house for emergencies and I was able to run over there and hose the kid off in the bathroom. But that's not inconvenient, right? Oh and we had no AC that day either. Stellar.

That started a downward spiral of events and emotions for me that I am just now starting to come out of. Still no car. Made up with The Husband after the previous posting but then after all the water damage and subsequent repairs, we got into it again. It wasn't a nice night, and he pretty much told me it wasn't his job to make me happy, so if I didn't like my life, I could leave. That both hurt me and made me laugh. I would like to see how he copes with a week alone with these two crumb snatchers. He'd be begging me to come back. Because as much as he claims that he would love to be a SAHD, he doesn't have the patience for it. He can't even make them a meal without asking me to write down instructions. Um... it's a PBJ, not beef wellington! The "c" word came back again (constistency) and I just want to know are there ANY Mommies of 2+ kids out there who have exactly the same schedule day-in and day-out? My kids are spazoids and all over the place. Are your homes spotless and clutter free? Do you have a precise menu of meals planned for each day of the week? I've found a lot of Mommy blogs recently and it sounds like I am not as alone as I feel. If you DO have a spotless house, perfectly planned meals and perfectly behaved children... suck it.

I've always felt better after writing things down, so I'm going to try and post more often. And since it was brought to my attention that I sound like a victim, know that I am not trying to sounds like one. I have never been a victim and I'm not going to turn into one. I'm just an overwhelmed Mom trying to get it together. So offer to help or get the hell out of the way. Adios people.