Do these x-rays make me look fat?

I was at my chiropractor's office last week and he took some spinal x-rays. At the time, I thought...cool! I get to see my bones and my skull and my teeth. I could then bring an image into my mind of using those teeth to snarl and gnash things (like math books and stupid people) and could picture myself doing a skeleton lurch around town scaring the hell out of people.

Yes, I have an active imagination.

Anyway, I went back to his office this week to discuss the x-rays and, if needed, form a plan of action for treatment. So, I sit down in front of his HUGE light box with Little Bit right beside me and my mom behind me. Weird? Yes, but Little Bit loves science-y things and my mom was...just curious. So, I'm sitting there, overflowing with excitement! My skeleton! My badass bones, out there, showing off their mad clacky skills! He dims the lights, he flips the switch on the lightbox.

And there is my body. In all its naked glory.

Yes, you read that right. It wasn't just my super awesome skeleton. It was my skeleton plus some bumps and rolls and bulges. As in, my belly flab and fatback. There was even the faint outline of my silhouette. Lumps and all.

Really?

All I wanted were my clacky bones and what I got was my tubby skeleton. Who even knew skeletons could BE fat? Not me. Every skeleton I've ever seen was stick thin. A walking skeleton, if you will.

Did you see what I did there? A "walking skeleton"? No? Never mind.

So, I'm sitting there trying to listen to my chiropractor explain what he found but in reality, all I can think about is this...My skeleton has a belly roll. Then I started thinking about the airport. People at the airport are fully aware that my skeleton has a belly roll. AND, have seen the outline of "The Girls". Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that why clothes were invented? So our naughty bits wouldn't be on display for all the world to see? But oh no, airline security can see everything. Belly rolls, fatback, boobies.

Awesome.

Then, to cap it all off, Little Bit wants to know, "Mom, can we take some pictures of your x-rays?"
Why, you ask? She wants to bring them to school to show her class.

Uh, no. No, you can't.

Good times.

In which I get heckled

I love Pinterest. Seriously, it's a super terrific place to get ideas for crafting, cooking, etc. It's also my favorite place to go for a laugh. And laugh, I do. I poke fun at stupid people, myself and life in general. One of the things I pin about is politics. I am not a fan of politicians in general and take advantage of any opportunity to get a giggle at the expense of political stupidity.

 

Apparently, Pinterest has revealed my true nature as a "hater". Now, my personal opinion is that people use the term "hater" when they disagree with something you do or say but have no valid argument to present. As in, "Oh! You posted a smart ass pin about President Obama but seeing as I don't really know you or clearly have no understanding of your principles or values, I'm going to call you a hater and be generally obnoxious.".

 

I was happily pinning shit that made me laugh and then I received an e-mail telling me that someone had commented on four of my pins. I was super excited because while people frequently repin things I post, they rarely comment. All I thought was, "Yay!". Then I looked at the comments...Not only were they not fun and witty comments, they were rude and abusive.

 

Huh.

 

I didn't bother to respond to the comments and subsequently deleted them, thinking that perhaps the commentor was having a bad day or perhaps hadn't gone poop for awhile and was just a little cranky. Nope. She kept on commenting. So, I fired one back, asking why she continued to rudely comment. Her repsonse was that I was obviously a "hater".

 

Now, intrepid readers, I can admit that rather than taking the high road and ignoring her, I found myself posting pins that I was sure would irritate her. I know, I know, probably not the nicest thing to do. But honestly, I pin for myself not anyone else and if it makes me laugh, I'm going to pin it. Consider it icing on the cake if it pissed her off in the process. So sue me. Anyway,  because I love you, I have posted the most entertaining exchange. Before you think I'm a complete bitch, I have removed her name from these postings because I don't reveal anyone's personal information. Ever. Let's just call her Thundercloud, shall we?   

 

This is the pin that I posted. Funny, right? I realized the other day that I haven't been fond of a presidential candidate in many, many years, so this isn't me just harping on Obama. But, you know, take it any way you want ;)

 

                                                                                 

Thundercloud:
Love theis president

Me:

If you are so inherently opposed to what I pin, why bother following this board? This isn't meant to be a public forum for debate.

Thundercloud:
I'm not follpwing you, don't worry. Just can't stand haters when I accidently run across them in this world. Sorry for you.

Me:

Oh brother...get over yourself. Self righteousness is unattractive.

 

Thundercloud:
Still sorry for you, now knock it off and talk to someone that agrees with your sick outlook on this world.

Me:

Oh honey, you're the one who started commenting, remember? I'm just pinning shit that makes me laugh, not getting butt hurt when I see something I don't agree with.

 

B: (this is a friend of mine)
Wow, someone needs to get a life don't they?

Another Pinterest user:
LOVE THIS PIN!!! So sad, but true!

 

Me:
You know, I think its one of those times where "live and let live" don't apply. I'm sure, had the election gone the other way, her boards would be filled with Romney bashing pins. It's all good, people like that amuse me more than anything :)

 

Thundercloud:
No I don't pin hateful things. Would block all you haters with no respect if I could. What are you teaching your children?. So Sad .

Me:

Wow, who ate your bowl of sunshine? It's called having a sense of humor, you should try it. And feel free to block me anytime, seeing as you keep coming back to my pins...not the other way around.

 

 

Funny shit, huh? My personal favorite is where she questions my parenting skills. Now, I'm curious, of the two of us, which one seems to be hateful and aggressive?  

 

In which I get saucy in my sleep

I don't know about you, but Winter wreaks havoc on my sleep. I know that you are just dying to know what I'm talking about because you are here on this blog that clearly never goes anywhere and is simply a product of my over active imagination.

Anyway...

In the Winter, the heat is on (because The Mr. is a delicate flower and gets cold...big baby), since the heat is on, I get parched in my sleep. Yes, parched! I use big words now, big words are cool. When I get parched, I get thirsty and when I get thirsty, I cough. And this wakes me up. Still with me?

Good.

Last night, I woke up coughing and so I got up and went to the kitchen for a drink of water. Now, here is where the story gets fuzzy. I was sure that I went right back to bed and fell asleep. Sounds legit, right? According to The Mr, this was not the case. His version of the story goes like this...

I came back to bed and sat down on the edge. And didn't take that next critical step, the lying down step. Never one to miss an opportunity, The Mr reached over and, um...placed his hand on my northern regions. My response to this? "Why, hello there!".

Now, I can't testify to the validity of this event but in all honesty, it sounds about right according to the recent night time antics my brain has been playing on me. Greeting my husband's wandering hand with a suggestive and slightly shady, "Why, hello there!" pales in comparison to my recent dream in which I was in a McDonald's bathroom and the toilets where so high up off the floor, that I had to leap up onto it and then, when I managed to get up there, the toilet became a swing toilet and there was some sort of circus happening under me.

See? Winter + heat = havoc.

In which I ease my mom's worries

We are leaving for a Disney Cruise in 2 days! I'm super excited about it...so excited, in fact, that I decided to make a schedule for my mom because as moms are wont to do, she likes knowing where we are and what we're doing. I think this should ease her mind and allow her to know that we are safe and having fun!


The Sique’s Epic Adventure at Sea or…In Which We Run Away to be Pirates

Day 1 - October 28, 2012

     All Aboard by 4:00 pm (Tito mentioned something about a strip poker game. But I’m sure he was  kidding.)

Day 2 - October 29, 2012 (at sea)

    Today is “Swim With the Dolphins” day. I hope we can keep up with the ship because according to the Pirates Code, “Whoever falls behind, stays behind.”

Day 3 - October 30, 2012 (at sea)

     Today is “Job Switching” on the Disney Wonder. It’s a special time in which the guests and the crew switch places for the day. It should be a real learning experience! I hope they make me Captain.

Day 4 - October 31, 2012 (Puerto Vallarta)

     Today we have planned a great day at a spa. It’s called “Cosechamos los órganos de forma gratuita!”. I think it means, We play organs while you harvest your free spirit! Sounds pretty amazing, right?

Day 5 - November 1, 2012 (Cabo San Lucas)

     Today we plan to drop the girls off at a local school so they can learn something new and appreciate what they have at home. Then, Tito and I plan to see some local color. This may include the nearest cosmetic surgeon, a brothel and possibly the dentist. Super excited!

Day 6 - November 2, 2012 (Cabo San Lucas)

     This is our “Anything Goes” day. Discuss.

Day 7 - November 3, 2012 (at sea)

     This day is solely reserved for drinking, dancing and carrying on. And some water skiing. But that’s not definite because the waters may or may not be shark infested.

 Day 8 - November 4, 2012

     All ashore by 9:30 am. I’m sure we will have made some new friends. Looking forward to sharing our trip with you but I hope you won’t need a kidney anytime soon because Tito is a little unsure about the spa. I bet it’s fine though.

　

　

　

　

Shoplifters, Yoda and The One

Today is a special day. Today, I'm giving a big shout out to all the thieves and shoplifters out there. Now, before you become indignant, let me tell you a little story.

It starts innocently enough, the family and I headed out to the Mall to do some back-to-school shopping. We found a great deal on backpacks. Yay! As usual, The Mr. escaped to the TV section (the big baby), which happens to be right next to the bra section. In hindsight, I realize that this is, in fact, great marketing at work. Think about it, you're a man, your lady wants to look at pretty panties, "Babe, aren't these cute?". You're as cornered as a rat in a barrel. Suddenly, you see out of the corner of your eye, your White Knight. He beckons you, "Come toward the light!" You find yourself drawn like a moth to a flame, "Yeah, those are great. I'm just going to look over here...". Your lady is blissfully unaware that you have abandoned her (cardinal sin, gents) and you get to stand, slack jawed before a huge bank of TV magic.

It's a win-win.

Anyway, I left The Mr. drooling over TVs big enough to fill a wall and went in search of the ever elusive Comfortable, yet Flattering Bra. Perhaps you've heard of it. I've heard whispers, rumors..."It's true, I say. My mother's cousin knows a bartender that has a roommate who met a girl at the bank who swears that she has one! It's real!" I decided that today was my day, I was going to find this Mythical Beast. Onward!

I searched high and low, pulling style after style, color after color. The tags shouted at me, "Best Bra Ever!", "No Pinch Underwire!", "The Best Kept Secret!", "Mega Pushup!". Oh, the sensory overload. I gathered my wits about me and headed to the fitting room with an armload, thinking, "One of these has to be The One."

Things started out fairly tame. Not The One, but nothing weird either. Which, ladies, you KNOW is important when we are seeking the Care and Maintenance of "The Girls". Then, it happens.

The security device.

Don't get me wrong, I completely understand stores using these and don't disparage them for it. However, I definitely have a problem with where they have decided to attach them. Could it be on the strap, where it wouldn't interfere with the fit? No. How about on the upper area of the cup where, while it may feel awkward, wouldn't really be that big of a deal? No.

No.

The security device is on the back. Right on the clasp. Because that's THEE perfect spot to put a large, bulky plastic thing. It's so incredibly easy to reach behind you and blindly try to fasten your bra clasp when there's a plastic bulge the size of Australia. Not. If, by some miracle, you get the damn thing fastened against all odds, now you're faced with a different problem. When a woman is trying on her most important piece of clothing, it's important that it be seamless and comfortable, right? Well, nothing says comfort like Australia digging into your back. I wish ALL bras had Australia somewhere on them, it would make life much more interesting and our clothes would look just that much better on us.

So, while I was trying to appreciate the bra that may well be The One, I was also cursing shoplifters everywhere because thanks to their errant ways and general misbehavior, I got to stand in front of a fitting room mirror (or as it's more commonly know, the Fun House Mirror) and try to ignore Australia hunching on my back like Yoda. So thanks, all you rotten shoplifters, you made my day,

I did prevail, I found The One. I skipped back over to the TV section where not only was my husband still drooling over the big screens, my daughters were standing in front of a 3D TV with 3D glasses on looking like little zombies. As special thank you for "shopping" with me, I let The Mr. pay for The One. Good times.

Remember ladies, when you're faced with roadblocks on your search for The One. Don't despair. Don't give up. You too, can conquer Australia.

"Do or do not, there is no try" - Yoda

In which we narrowly escape the black market

I went away this weekend and almost didn't make it back. True story.

A girlfriend of mine, Lulu, is turning 30 and so her hubby aranged for a surprise weekend away for her and some girlfriends at a beach condo. Awww. We whisked her away and headed for a weekend with no men, no kids and if we played our cards right, copious amounts of alcohol.

We made a stop on the way to get a snack and pee. We thought it would be a perfect moment to take a picture so that our trip could be enjoyed for generations to come. My bestie, Tracy, approached a normal looking guy and asked him to take our picture. Now, this seems innocent enough, right? How many times have you asked someone to take your picture or been asked to take a picture? It's not like we were asking him to donate a lung or solve world hunger. Nope, it was just a picture.

Tracy: Excuse me, can you take our picture?
Man: No, I don't have time.

*crickets*

Now, intrepid readers, if you had just told a group of women that you didn't have time to take a picture (because let's face it, that's some hard, time-consuming shit right there), wouldn't you make an effort to walk away? Perhaps whip your phone out of your 80's throw back denims and start madly texting or talking or...something? Not our new friend. Nope, he just stood there. And stood there. And stood there. He stood there while we asked a woman to take our picture. He stood there while we laughed maniacally about people who "don't have time". He stood there until his wife/girlfriend/babysitter/parole officer/dominatrix came out of the bathroom and they walked away.

Shit. You. Not.

We made it to the condo in one piece and had some wine while watching the ocean. We walked down to the beach and wiggled our toes in the sand and picked up shells. Good times.

 As the day wore on, we decided that we should adhere to the "Safety First" rule and called a cab to take us into town for dinner. Charms specified that there were 6 of us (twice), could they accomodate that? Yes, ma'am, be there in 20 minutes. Yay, let the party start!

We should have known that the driver was a whack job when he couldn't find his way through the parking lot to the unit we were at. When he finally arrived, he pulled up in a mini-van. Looks promising, right? Oh, you optimistic little ray of sunshine.

He opens the door and there, where the middle seat belongs is...nothing. That's right, folks, there was no middle seat. Why? Who the fuck knows. He says he took it out but doesn't know why.

Alrighty then.

If we were smart, we would have sent him packing and found a van with ALL its parts. But not us! We said, "Fuck it!" and off we went with Lulu and Charms sitting on the floor of the van. On the FLOOR of the van. From this vantage point, they were able to see that our driver had a cooler between the 2 front seats. Obviously, he was going to smuggle us out of the country, steal our organs and sell them to highest bidder. Beacause really, could it get any weirder?

Yes, yes it can.

After dinner, we called another cab to take us downtown (for 6 please, with 6 seats!), hopefully for drinks and dancing! While we waited, we went into a little gift store and looked at all the crap that tourists absolutely insist on buying while on vacation but almost always turns out to be something like, "What the fuck was a thinking?" We came around a corner of the store and there was the tallest chick I've ever seen with a pelican at her feet...biting her hand. Seriously, a pelican. One of these...

That's right, in the store, biting her hand. But it's okay because it's a baby, it's been there for 2 days and birds poop all the time. Phew, thank goodness Tall Chick was an expert on birds.

Our cab arrives. Yay!

We count the seats, yep all there...and we're off! This driver seems normal enough until we notice a bottle of...something between his legs. "Whatcha got there, O'douls?"

Driver: No, no, this is just Ginger Ale.

Riiiigggghhhhhttttt.....

He drops us downtown and we go looking for trouble. I mean dancing. For a beach town, it was damn quiet. The most excitement we found was at the pizza parlor where the staff was doing a floor show. A little Greased Lightning and some flying pizza dough makes for a damn good time. We did find a slightly frightening person that looked like the Bird Lady from Mary Poppins...

Except without the birds and about 75 more colored scarves and electric blue paint and glitter around her eyes. And she sang. Why yes, I did have nightmares.

And we called another cab (for 6 with 6 seats). This guy was younger than the other two and the ride started out without incident. Until he informed us that he was a 3rd degree black belt and if anyone was to ask, he was a fighter not a lover. Oh and he didn't seem to like it when Lulu asked him if he was going to steal our organs and then kill us. Touchy, touchy.

He dropped us off at a "club" where there was supposed to be good music for dancing. There was dancing alright...there was the guy that was just DYING to dance and looked like he was about to bust a move at any moment. The chick who was either dancing with an invisible friend or had dropped some very pretty acid before she left the house. Although our personal favorite was a couple who we don't think was really a couple that was either having a dance off or this was their version of foreplay. They were running into each other and flinging each other around. At one point, she ended the dance by falling slowly to the floor and then just laid there.

Best entertainment ever.

And we called another cab (for 6 with 6 seats). Apparently, the reason downtown was so quiet is because cab driver #4 thought the party was in his van. I'm pretty sure each and every one of my organs was vibrated to within an inch of their lives (it's a good thing cab driver #1 didn't try to sell any of them then because I think they were damaged) and I think I'm clear on how it feels to have heart palpitations. And did I mention he thought he was in the Indy 500? At one point, while trying to enter the condo address (which Bre had to google on her phone because he didn't know where in the hell he was going), he nearly plowed into an off-ramp guard rail. But don't worry girls, "I got you!" But I'll tell you what, Kristin and DanceBoy were dancing and singing like it was 1999!

Thankfully, we made it home alive (and with all our organs) and had dessert and more wine.

This is where we get to the sad part...we're old. I hate to admit it but we are. Give us a warm blankie and a glass of wine and we'll fall asleep on the couch.

No one lost a kidney or got stung by a jellyfish or was dry humped on the dance floor. But it was amazing and unforgettable and I can't wait to do it again.

I would tell you more, but I don't have time. *wink wink*

iPods, fractures and a discount

I think there is a conspiracy against me, and my iPod is in on it.

Due to the excessive amount of time I spend in my car, I have been listening to a lot of podcasts. Alot of them. Yesterday, while driving to school, I started the first podcast in my "Stuff Mom Never Told You" queue. Ordinarily, these are fairly benign and often very educational. Good stuff.

Not this time.

The podcast was titled "Is masturbation good for you", an enticing title, to be sure. They started out talking about the different myths associated with masturbation and statistics of who is doing it and where. For the most part, this didn't sound to dangerous, so I kept listening. I was doing really well until the conversation turned to the dangers of men humping hard surfaces. Hard surfaces?? What, like the table or a door? No, no...the floor. WTF?? Guys hump the floor?! Apparently, they do and if they do it too hard (!!), they risk the chance of a penile fracture.

.....

You heard it right folks, penile fracture. I almost had to stop the car so that I could vomit. *shudders*

I decided the safest course of action would be to change podcasts. Yeah, I'm just that smart.

So, I switched to "Stuff From The Science Lab - Those crazy Kimodos". Cool, right? Not so much. Apparently, Kimodo Dragons vomit. All. The. Time. And not just your normal vomit, they vomit things like partially digested goats. Goats!

And, another switch. This time it was about sending Jay-Z and Beyonce on the Virgin Galactic to film a music video. At the cost of $200,000. It's a good thing people don't waste money on stupid shit. Let me tell you that as soon as I heard the words "vomit bag", I switched again.

Then, I noticed the title on the next podcast... How the digestive system works.

Seriously.

On the upside, I went to Save Mart after class to do some grocery shopping. As I was checking out, I handed the lady my S.H.A.R.E.S. card (super cool if you've never heard of it. You earn points every time you shop and then Save Mart sends a check to your school. Check it out.). As she proceeds to push the button telling the register that she is going to slide my card, she accidentally presses the senior discount button. Sweet! $10 off my grocery purchase! I am totally willing to be a senior, if it saves me money.

In which my neighbor's true identity is revealed

I firmly believe that my neighbor is indeed, a superhero.

How can I know this, you ask? Well, I'll tell you...

Around Halloween, I happened to glance at his front window (this is a bedroom with a window that faces the street) and I saw what I can only imagine to be a poster featuring Batman, The Riddler and The Joker (I think). I didn't really think anything of this as it was Halloween and people do some weird shit to their houses around this time of year. Did I mention he is really, really weird? No? Well, that won't do.

He only wears sweatpants and muscle shirts with tennis shoes. This would be okay if he say, worked at a gym or spent alot of time at the gym or...was an 80's Jazzercise instructor. To my knowledge, he is none of these things so this behavior becomes weird and slightly disturbing. He also wears a fanny pack.

A fanny pack. You read that right. My theory about this is that he distracts bad guys with its weirdness and then does his superhero thing.

He's also probably in his 50's. And by his own admission, stays up most of the night and sleeps very, very late the next day. Not quite feeling the weird? I can fix that.

He combs all his (grey) hair up to the front of his head and then does a weird sort of poofy thing right at the top of his forehead. It sort of resembles a pompadour which looks super hot on say...

Sean Connery (you're welcome)

or...

James Dean (again, you're welcome)

or even...

John Travolta (while he's not my favorite, he still rocked the pompadour. oh, you're welcome)

Does my neighbor look anything like this? Well, of course he doesn't. He just looks weird. Oh! I almost forgot the event that confirmed my suspicions. I was in the backyard and glanced over his fence. I had a direct view of his dining room window and what do you think was hanging in this window? Bedsheets with ninjas on them. Ninja sheets, folks...it doesn't get any weirder. Ninjas added to the Marvel comic character poster (which is still there. In December.), could really only mean one thing. He is, in fact, a superhero. 

Because really, what other explanation could there be?

In which I'm traumatized at the grocery store

I'm a huge fan of flip-flops. I've been known to wear them in the rain, in 30º weather...to weddings. You get the point. However, there should be rules attached to wearing flip-flops.

Take for example the man I saw in the store last night. I went in for tortillas because I was going to make fish tacos. Mmmm, fish tacos. Is there anything better than fish tacos? No, the answer is no. Unless, of course you don't like fish or are allergic to fish, then I can well imagine you can think of many things that are better than fish tacos. Like my friend Marisa who is completely in LOVE with avocados, I bet she would say that avocados are better than fish tacos. I would vehemently disagree with her though because I think avocados are right up there with beets and peas and head lice. Not that I would eat head lice, but you get what I'm saying.

Where was I...right, the man wearing flip-flops. While waiting in line, I happened to glance down at his feet and was treated to the nastiest thing. Ugly toe nails. Now, before you get all hopped up, let me clarify that there is a difference between toe nails that aren't attractive and UGLY toe nails. These were ugly. I would even go so far as to say they were fugly. Fugly nails, people. They were a weird brownish-yellowish color and they looked like they could take a layer of skin off if they were to attack you. Needless to say I was not only traumatized by this but I was also unable to look away. It was like a train wreck, you don't want to look but you can't stop looking.

It was wrong. So very, very wrong.

So, the rules...well, it's only one rule, but I think it's a pretty great rule.

If you wear flip-flops, please make sure you don't have toe-nails that look they belong on some pre-historic beast.

Am I asking for the impossible? No, no I'm not.

Toilet paper, the media and keeping your butt clean

The media subjects us to all sorts of things, don't you think? We get to hear about every medication for every ailment and all their glorious side effects. We are privy to the fireworks intended to represent orgasmic climaxes, compliments of K-Y Jelly. We get to hear about incontinence and constipation. We are so eloquently educated on the perils of not wearing the "right protection" during Aunt Flo's monthly visits. Good times.

As much as I hate every single one of these commercials, there is not one of these that compares with toilet paper commercials.

Really, toilet paper? Have we devolved enough as a society that we don't know to grab some toilet paper and wipe our asses? Not only do we have to be told to do it, we have to be told to do it by a family of bears, which in my observation spends a freakish amount of time taking a dump.

You know the ones I'm talking about. The ones that make taking a shit a family affair. Disturbing at best.

To add insult to injury, the logo is currently "Enjoy the Go". Seriously, it is, I checked the website. The moment you open the site, you are treated to a cute little video extolling the relief, the calm of "going". Especially after morning coffee, "talk about getting things going!".

I may vomit.

CDA

Sometimes, when my kids touch me, I want to shout, "2319!" Especially in public.

A fly's revenge. Or, how I mangled the keyboard.

I was working the other day and was being harassed by a fly. Naturally, I did what came...well, naturally. I murdered it. In cold blood. Gleefully grinning the entire time.
Unfortunately, the fly had its revenge because as I completed my downward swipe to end its miserable little life, I hit the keyboard of my laptop. Oops. I completely knocked off the "f" and "g" keys. My bad.
Although, my good friend Aimee told me I didn't need to swear about it, I could have just said "stinky g key".
Bah ha ha ha ha!

Speak!

Words are pretty nifty things, don't you think? I mean, I don't like words like homework, vomit, taxes, cancer...words like that. But on the whole, words are way cool, right?

I was thinking the other day about words that I especially like. Of course, that sort of thinking brings me to a list. Why? I LOVE lists!!

Words I like:

• Chortle - This just sounds fun, don't you think?
• Martini - Think of all the ways you can describe this...Shaken, stirred, dirty, dry, olive, no olive!
• Snafu - Now I wonder, is this really and truly a word? An official word? I really don't care either way, just wondering...
• Mrs. Nezbit - Okay, okay...I know this is a) two words and b) technically, not really a word at all, but really, is there a cooler sounding name? I think not.
• Fritter - As in, "He frittered away all his money". Doesn't this sound so much better than "wasted"?
• Hankering - I would rather have a hankering for something rather than a mere craving. If you're craving something, I imagine a drooling, wild-eyed mess. Whereas, when you have a hankering for something, you could be roping cows and shearing sheep while wishing you had something! This sounds much more exciting.
• Porcupine - No reason, really...I just like the way it sounds. ;)

Ahh, words...little words, big words, silly words and serious ones.

In the car or short trip to crazy land

My family took a mini vacation this Labor Day weekend. We traveled about 7 hours to Southern California and spent some time on the beach and with family. First and foremost, you need to know that I don't like the beach. I know, I know...what kind of crazy person am I? But really, sand in unfortunate places? No thank you. Anyway, The Mr. and the girls LOVE going, so I brought along a book and a chair and enjoyed the beachy weather while they swam. But that's not what I want to tell you. What I want to tell you is that strange things happen when 4 people are in a car for long periods of time. For instance...

Little Bit, "Mom, she bit me and she licked me"

Zippy, "Mom, she bit me and licked me first"

Little Bit, "Mom, she took Mr. Bumble (this is her Pillow Pet...clearly not to be touched). Let's take her to get the cheapest, ugliest pillow pet, then she won't take mine anymore"

Kid. You. Not.

I was also privileged enough to hear the Happy Nappers jingle, reasons why boys are dumb and a running monologue of Little Bit being Tour Guide Barbie for Mr. Bumble.

But seriously folks as much as I was glad to be home, we had a great time. Not as good of a time as I plan to have on my birthday trip to Disneyland with The Mr. but that's another story ;)

Dressed for success

Because I clearly have too much time on my hands, I was thinking of shirts I should have custom made for myself. They should include but not be limited to:


Beer and Burger Girl

Motherhood makes me drink

Would you like fries with that?

You lost me at Mommmmm...

Is your homework done?

Of course I would like to pick up your dirty socks

Math is my frenemy

Mmmmm, coffee

Shhh, I'm reading

Mommy's in time-out

Don't touch my nose. Or my feet. Or my wine. Better yet, don't touch anything.

I love the smell of Bleach in the morning!

Where's the Maid?

What? That's good music right there!

When will we be there? Any minute now...

Tattoo? Yes please :)

I typed LOL, but I'm not really LOLing. Sorry 'bout that.

I breathe, I eat, I blog.


Maybe I'll check with Threadless and ask nicely ;)

Thoughts on shaving

Day 10 (of 30ish)

Just one more reason having kids is fully awesome!

Little Bit: Mom, why do people shave their legs?
Me: Maybe to make them look and feel nice.
Little Bit: But people don't shave their arms.
Me: Nope.
Little Bit: But they shave their armpits. I wonder why?
Me: Because people don't want to be hairy monkeys.
Little Bit: I guess so.

*a very long pause*

Little Bit: People don't shave their butts either.
Me: Uh.....
Little Bit: I guess most people don't need to shave their butts because their butts are naked.
Me: That would sure explain it.

To be or not to be

As much as I LOVE Summer vacation, there are moments where I find myself terribly bored. This is not to say that there isn't a million things I should or even could be doing...I just don't want to. So, for your reading pleasure, may I present my "I should be doing this, but instead I'm doing that" list.

Things I should be doing:

Laundry - because somehow the laundry fairy always misses my house.
Dishes - I think the dish fairy is in cahoots with the laundry fairy.
Cleaning the bathrooms - I'm not even going to comment on this one.
Vacuuming - I hate doing this. I'm campaigning hard to replace the carpet with a hardwood floor.
Reading a book - Don't get me wrong, I LOVE reading. The problem here is that I'm on the couch and my book is not and until it learns to grow legs and walk to me, we have a problem.
Balancing my checkbook - Now, before you think I'm on top of this, think again. My idea of balancing the checkbook is writing down what I've spent, calling the bank and crossing my fingers when the current balance is announced.
Taking a walk with the girls - I do actually plan to do this. Later.
Going to the Library for more books - See? I love me some books.
Sweeping and mopping - I don't actually mind this because I love the smell of Pine-Sol :)

Things I am doing:

Playing Poppit on Pogo.com


See my problem?

Bleach, Ice Cream and other yummy things

Day 7 (of 30ish)

I feel the need for a Top Ten.

Like Letterman...but better.

The Ringmaster's Top 10 (in no particular order because my brain is already starting to hurt)

Books - I love books. Books are like tiny, little movies in my head. They make me happy!

Ice Cream - Let's face it, ice cream embodies all that is amazing in this world.

Disneyland - Normally, I hate crowds and don't have the patience to wait in line at the grocery store, but somehow, as soon as I walk in the gates at Disneyland nothing bothers me. It's my happy place.

Flip Flops - I would wear flippys all day, every day!

Coffee - Do I really need to expand on that? Coffee is the elixir of life and should be celebrated daily!

Bleach - My goal when I'm cleaning is to make the house smell like the community pool. Only better.

Just about anything by artist Jack Vettriano - In my opinion, he is one of the most talented artists I have ever seen.

The word Fuck - Sorry for you sensitive folks but really...is there a more versatile word out there? Fucktard, Fuck me! Get the Fuck out! UnFuckingBelieveable! See what I mean?

Flowers - I like almost any kind of flower. Smell-good ones, funky ones, classy ones.

Shoe Store Smell - C'mon, don't tell me that you don't like that wonderful smell of new shoes? I'm telling you, if Scentsy carried Shoe Store, Bleach and New Tire I would stockpile like nobody's business!

There you have it.

Say what?

Day 5 (of 30ish)


Parenting brings many joys (said with extreme snarkiness). No really, joy is an every day experience! As is confusion, frustration, exasperation and just plain silliness. The girls never cease to amaze me, many of you might remember "The Great Gender Debate" as recorded here. Now, for your reading pleasure, may I present other delightful things that come out of my mouth in response to motherhood.

Things I never thought I would say. Ever.

• Quit sitting in the garbage can
• If you plan on calling my daughter anytime soon, you better sit down and read a book this weekend (said to a boy who likes my daughter)
• Don't lick your sister.
• Go into the bathroom, turn the water on, take your clothes off, get in the shower, get UNDER the water. Apply soap, rinse it off, turn off the water, get out, dry off, put your clothes back on. (in response to the smarty pants who stood in the shower, fully clothed without the water on. Why, you ask? Because I told her to jump in the shower. awesome.)

And people wonder why my bloggy name is Ringmaster...

Secret Spy stuff

Things I call the cat.

His name is Shadow but because he is secretly a highly intelligent government operative, he goes by many names...

Señor Tiny Paws
Monsieur Pointy Ears
Sir Fuzzy Tail
Colonel Claws

Keep it to yourself. Okay, if you HAVE to tell someone, make sure that they don't tell anyone because that's how secrets get out and rumors get started.

Also, I will deny everything...