Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Bitches & Over Sleeping

This morning most of us over slept.  Not the hubbs, because he gets up earlier than the rest of us & uses his cell phone as an alarm while I use a real plug in the wall alarm clock.

I can recall over sleeping maybe two times in my 18 years of parenting.  Below are the conversations that followed.

Hub: HEY! Don’t cha think you should get up? It’s 7:40.

Me:  Oh MY GAWD! Addie has to catch the bus in 10 minutes! Are Myles and Blake up?

Hub:  I dunno, I think Myles showered.

Me: Why didn’t you wake me up?

Hub: Well shit, your alarm clock goes off like 50 times every morning!!! Gotta get to work. Bye. Fine play the fucking dumb card! Ouchie! You suck for making fun of a woman who obviously has dependency issues with her snooze button. Don’t let the door hit ya pal.

Me: Ok, ok, I can still pull this out! BLAKE ARE YOU AWAKE?

Blake:  What the hell? My alarm clock didn’t go off! I know honey the alarm clock gods and your dad are plotting against us.

Me:  MYLES WE OVERSLEPT! The fucking world is ending RIGHT NOW! Oh wait, your hair is wet; ok you’re good-GET UP!

Myles: Ummmm OH KAAAY (that’s teenager condescension speak that translates to “sheesh, chill the hell out, you’re tripping HARD mom”) Bite me.

Me:  Blake, can you take your sister to school?

Blake: Ummm, yeah if I left like RIGHT NOW!


Addie: Mom, we gotta go RIGHT NOW!

Me: I know I know! Just let me throw on some pants.

Addie:  Can we go to McDonald’s first?

Me: Ummm...NO!  Is that a fucking joke?

Addie:  MOM!  Everyone’s parents take them to McDonald’s when they miss the bus! Your little 6th grade butt might have straight A’s right now, but you get a BIG FAT “F” for THAT, in fact I’m embarrassed FOR you for even attempting THAT shit!

Me:  Get in the car.

Text from Hub:  Did Addie miss the bus or did Blake take her to school? I’m sorry. Yeah SUUUURE you are.

Me:  Addie, since I’m driving, can you answer this text from your dad?  Do you know where the asterisk, number and percent keys are on my phone? Never mind, just tell him that you missed the bus and that Blake did not take you to school.

Hub Text:  I’m really sorry. My mistake, I let the time get away from me. Hmmmm, that sounds kind of legit.

My text to hub:  Not your responsibility. Short and sweet, passive aggressive, hit him where it hurts.

Hub Text:  Yes it is! I had been up for a long time and I got busy with work emails and didn’t pay attention to the time.  I’m really sorry.  BOOOO YAAAAAW!  You are forgiven.  

What are YOUR over sleeping stories?


Monday, February 21, 2011

Presidents' Day

Today is Presidents' Day and my kids had school! What a RIP! My kids didn’t have school on Martin Luther King’s birthday, nor do they have school this Thursday and Friday in observance of AZ Rodeo Days, but they did have school today….mmmmkay

In honor of Presidents' Day, I pondered what we here in my household are the Presidents of.

The Hubb:  The President of Lost keys, tools, wallet and various man shit.

Me: The President of being blamed for secretly plotting to hide lost keys, tools, wallet and various man shit because I obviously delight in such crap and have nothing else to do.

Kid 1: The President of Influence, Deep Thinking and using the most profanities in a conversation without knowing it.  Pretty sure he convinced his sweet great grandmother that she has infinite OTHER selves in infinite universes while dropping the F bomb at least twice per sentence over the holidays.

Kid 2:  The President of shitty driving with others in his car. Thank you once again AZ for no driver’s education.

Kid 3:  The VICE President of lost man shit- homework, school ID, shoes, contact lenses, eye glasses, cell phone……

Me:  The President of being blamed for secretly plotting to hide the VP’s lost man shit. I’m the president of 2 things.  

Kid 4:  The President of simultaneously channeling Medusa and Maleficent every morning before school. 

Please share what you et al are the president of.

Truly love my family presidents, squishy xoxoxox's!

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Mommy Alchemy

♫ Halleluiah Halleluiah! ♪ After 20 years of dangerous and arcane experimentation (that has no doubt shortened my life), I have finally discovered the secret and magic formula to clean the filthy kid bathrooms!   

I can barely contain myself because I have been SO close for SO many years. I have suffered many failures and sacrificed many things (lungs, nasal passages, fingernails and various surfaces in the bathrooms to name a few).   Today I am going to share my discovery because I care deeply for my fellow man mom/maid and want to prevent everyone else from making mustard gas, napalm or using acetone in an attempt at a clean kid bathroom.

The simplicity of my formula is magnificent and truly humbles me after so many years of devoted fucking slave hood study in the art of cleaning.

Below is my magic formula-  When used in unison and precisely, the heavens open, the cleaning angels sing and it makes you prettier (ok, that "prettier" part is bullshit).

If you already know of this mystical formula- Shame on you for not sharing BRAVO!

Okay, so it's not Pb to Au, but in my world it's damned close!

Please share any magic formulas that you have discovered.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Spooky Stuff

 I know this blog will probably piss a lot of people off and I will probably lose a lot of friends. However, I cannot help myself and please know that I mean NO offense.  In fact I totally encourage any and all comments. 

BUT-Since we moved to Tucson (approx 6 years ago) we have noticed that a LOT of people around here believe in the super natural, especially ghosts and spirits. 

I really do not care what people believe in, i.e. ghosts, alien abduction, leprechauns etc.
However, since moving to this part of the world, my youngest kid has become increasingly paranoid. It seems to be a very common idea to be in touch with or see spirits/ghosts. I constantly have to use reason and logic to put her mind at ease.  

Kid 4: Mom, so & so’s mom says that I have a spirit that follows me, but I shouldn’t worry about it because it’s probably just a loved one that passed over.  

Me: Are you fucking KIDDING ME! SHE SAID THAT TO YOU? Oh honey, don’t worry.  Until someone catches a ghost in a jar and shows it to me, I just don’t believe in that shit, I mean stuff, do you need to sleep in my room tonight?

Kid 4: But Mom, my other friend so & so’s grandpa sees ghosts, in fact they have a room just for their ghost. It has a bed and everything.” Hahahaha no fucking way, for real?

Kid 1:  Hahahaha, no way!  You need to go shine a flashlight in their window every night at the same time & leave notes written backward on their porch.  

Kid 2:  MAN, I know a lot of people that believe in this shit too.  I’m not saying it’s not REAL, but ignorance is bliss in my case.

Kid 3: No shit dude, I say keep your fucking “gift” to yourself, I don’t want any part of that crap.

Me: I know right? How exactly is that supposed to work next time you go take a poo or pick your nose or other manly/girly things?  Do you think your Grandpa’s & Grandma’s ghosts see all that? Plus I just can’t seem to reason out the whole going to heaven and being a ghost at the same time thingy guys. Call me crazy, but I just can’t make that piece fit.  AND remember guys, you spent the first halves of your lives in a big ole turn of the century 2 story house with secret cubbies & attics etc that would make these McMansion people around here cry for their Mama if they just looked at it.  If you didn’t see any ghosts there….I’m pretty sure we’re good.

Kid 3:  Well sometimes I do kind of see something from the corner of my eye dart by.

Me: Shut the fuck up, I mean the front door dude!  Really like what? The Devil?

Kid 3: No No, just sometimes it seems like I see something dart by.

Me:  Yeah, don't worry, I’m sure you just need to clean your contacts. 

All this said, I don’t discount the idea and I am certainly not throwing stones ok maybe little teeny ones with happy faces on them. I understand the whole concept of believing and having faith in things that can’t be proven, i.e. God, Love, Gravity etc etc. I’m just not QUITE ready to jump over to ghost thing.  Am I narrow minded?  So very.  Am I ok with that?  So very.   

PLEASE comment about any thoughts, beliefs or experiences on this subject.  Do you believe in ghosts/spirits? 

Thanks kid 1, you're humor kills me sometimes.

Friday, February 11, 2011

2/14 Sucks

Good Gawd it’s almost Valentine’s Day.  I have nothing against the Holiday or day or what ever the hell it is.  It just makes me nervous.
Having 4 kids, Valentines Day has always given me anxiety attacks.  For the last 15 years, Valentine’s Day meant the following things: 

1.  Make a school Valentines card box of some sort for kids. The first few years of this shit had some off the chain boxes with shiney paint, stencils, glitter, stickers, lace & ruffles to name just a few kick ass features.  By the time we made our last one, it was a recycled red gift bag with the Christmas name label torn off.  Oh, it’s ok Addie, no one will notice.  Look how RED & Valentineey this looks! 

2.  Find the EXACT type of Valentines your kid wants to give out at school,  which in my experience ranged from Rugrats and Power Rangers to High School Musical junk. And normally requires 2 boxes, because the standard box is 3 short to accommodate the entire class. 

3.  Kids must bring Valentine cards to school for every student in their class. The rule of thumb is that the kid only has to write who it’s FROM, not each and every recipient’s name wheew. However, once in a while you get one of those rogue teachers that sends home a list of student names and requires them to be addressed completely, first and last name. Encourages penmanship and anxiety.  Then you have to tape the fucking piece of Juicy Fruit to each one and make sure you don’t cover up the names blah blah blah. 

4.  Getting the teacher (or teacherS in my case) a super cool card or gift.  It has to be REALLY special. And if you know how to read, you are aware that this doesn't mean a coffee mug that says "I heart teaching" with an apple and giant ABC's on it. 

5.  Then of course there is the whole spouse Valentine’s thing. It took my husband about 10 years to realize that I despise squishy greeting cards.  I mean power washer puke in a bucket despise.  Something about stealing other people’s squishy sentiment is just twisted to me.  I’m a blank card; write your OWN shit kind of girl.

Fortunately the school Valentine party days are over for me now.  My kids are out of primary school and it’s all about dances and buying grocery store roses for my youngest son's “this week’s girl friend.”

But of COURSE now there is the Facebook dealio *sigh* “In honor of fucking Valentine’s Day, change your profile picture to one of you and your spouse together. Be sure to tell how long you have been together. GAWD! Okay.

I think I did this one for “Husband’s Week”.
This one for “If You Love Your MAN week”
 This one for "If You Love Your Baby Daddy" week or some shit
For Facebook Valentine's week profile picture of your special blah blah blah...I'm just going to alternate between the two below to show my appreciation for such an awesome holiday/day. Just keeping it real.

Heart you John, even if you do sometimes give me squishy greeting cards!

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Filthy Dirty Little Thangs.

For the last 10 years or so, my husband & I have ferociously debated the filth difference between boys and girls.  We have 3 sons and one daughter.  Our daughter is the youngest at 12 years old.

I have personally always been on Team Girl in the filth debate –after all there is clean dirty and just nasty gross dirty right? However, I am aware of the differences.
Boys have: 
1.      Dried pee and various forms of mucus on every inch of their bathroom.
2.      Dirty clothes in various piles (but will be re-worn until the laundry fairy intervenes)
3.      Petrified sweaty sock balls that actually make a sound similar to eating trail mix if you touch them. 
4.      Dirty dishes and drinking glasses taking over their bedrooms (which will be re-used if a buddy shows up with 5 Dollar Foot Longs or pizza, until the dish fairy intervenes).
5.      A gazillion bath towels only used once in a huge pile (that they will NEVER use again until the laundry fairy deals with them) WTF is THAT? I swear that is one of life’s mysteries to me that I put in the same place as wondering why so many homeless people are fat. 

Girls have:

  1. Make up & hairspray residue all over the place.
  2. Dirty & clean clothes inter mingled & tossed everywhere (NONE of which will be worn until the laundry fairy intervenes).
  3. Dirty dishes and drinking glasses taking over her bedroom, but useful for holding magic markers, beads & sequins. Call me crazy, but there is just something awesome about tacos & fake finger nails sharing a plate…ok, that’s gross dirty.
Last night my girl came into my room right after I had watched a teeny bit of The Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood (for the 100th time & one of my faves because it makes me feel like a LESS bad mom) and I was feeling especially kissy/snuggly.

She asks “Mom, do you remember that black makeup we have from last Halloween that comes in a tube?” Ummm yeah.  “Well it squirted out all over the place a minute ago.  I tried to take a shower to get it off, but it looks pretty bad in my shower.”  

 Since I was feeling like a better mom than Ashely Judd, I just said “No you worry Daaaw Link” shit, scratch that, that was my Natasha from Rocky & Bullwinkle.  Oh Sweetie Pea, don’t you worry one bit, I’m just sure we can get that dirty ole shower clean petite baybee, now take this hug you sweet thang.”

Here is what I have finally learned:

Rule 1: If you have sons and your husband makes comments for over 10 years that boys are not as messy as girls- you agree every time! Even if you just scraped whiskers, boogers & ear wax off their tooth brushes with a butter knife.

Rule 2: Do not test your theory by not putting toilet paper in your boys’ bathroom -they will just use the empty toilet paper tube and petrified sweaty sock balls until you do and not even say a word.

Rule 3: If your daughter ever asks “Mom, remember the black Halloween paint?”  Brace yourself.  I don’t give a shit if you just watched Beaches, Joy Luck Club and fucking Sophie’s Choice on the same day, you are NOT going to feel kissy/snuggly.

Rule 4: Remember rule #1 because you will be needing your husbands sand blaster. 

 Love my little filthies. <3

Monday, February 7, 2011

Sports and Dorks

After 20 years of marriage, 18 ½ years of parenting, being raised by sports people & participating in sports as a kid, I have realized that I live among sport dork a doodles.

While watching the Super Bowl yesterday, I finally and fully grasped the notion that I live in a sport dork den.  Denial can only take a person so far you know?

My 1st light bulb moment was when my only daughter & youngest child asked her DAD (a.k.a. servant/slave of daughter Addison) if he would take her & her friends to the grocery store 30 minutes before Super Bowl kick off so that they could buy Super Bowl party supplies. WTF? A tweenie party 30 minutes prior to kick off? I’ve been busting my ass all afternoon to cook Super Bowl food for you dorks and now there is a party planned by our 12 year old daughter?

Thank you girls for keeping an awesome OCD account of your pop consumption.

My 2nd light bulb moment was when my youngest and most athletic son (who btw is ripped to shreds) flipped off (middle finger) the TV during the Steeler’s line up call. Sweetie, they can’t see you.  Myles yells “I hate those fuckers!” at the t.v.  Ok, that’s sort of sportish. I reply with a “Why do you hate the Steelers, we’re from freaking Kansas pal, who cares?” Myles simply says “Because NO one around here likes them.” Mmmmkay

So in a nutshell, this is how our house sounded last night:

Me: John, the game starts in a minute.

John: Yeah, I know. I really want to watch it because a friend of mine from high school had a cousin who played for the Steelers.  SWEEET! I saw Joe fucking Namath play at Arrow Head Stadium & Elvis Presley perform at Henry Levitt Arena.  But OK, if your friend’s cousin played for Pittsburgh---shit, I’m IN TOO! 

John:  Holy shit! False Start!

Me: Um, no that’s Off Sides (good effort John)

Myles: I hate those Pittsburg fuckers, fuck you Steelers! While flipping off TV

Me: Remind me again why you hate Pittsburg Myles.

Myles: Cuz I DO, they SUCK!

Me: Are you fucking juicing, cuz you have some real rage here pal!

Myles: OMG MOM! Are you kidding me? I love my balls! Why would you ask me THAT?"   
Me: It’s my job gorilla boy, just thinking about my future grandchildren! 

Addie et al:  OMG! YAAAY! Score! Facebook status update: Wooo hooo! Yay Green Bay scored I heart Lady Gaga her album drops in May!  (will be so happy when my girl knows where Pittsburgh & Green Bay are on a map)
WOOO HOOO Black Eyed Peas!  Woooo Hooo Usher! Woo hoo, fucking shoot me. 

(Blake in his room playing online games (probably Maple Story foot ball or some shit)

Alex in his room refining that whole teleportation or worm hole problem.)

John: Holy Fuck! A Safety

Me:  Um, no sweetie, that’s called a conversion, but AWESOME use of profanities! Thank you God, I could NEVER be married to a man who couldn’t spin cool cuss words- that would just be gay.

John: TRAVELING!  Ok, I made that up

John: Now Green Bay is just going to be conservative & run some time off the clock. OMG! How did you come up with THAT idea? Oh wait, wasn’t that exactly what the commentator just said?

I love my dork a doodles. And the one thing I know for SURE is that they are ALL good sports even if they aren’t sports fanatics & they always have my back, (line, tail & full). <3 my Dorks! 

Friday, February 4, 2011

Recent Faves

Below are just a few comments/conversations that cracked me up over the last months, but weren’t really long enough to write an entire blog about, so I just compiled them all into one.

Me to my 12 y.o daughter Addie: “I can’t believe you are turning 12 tomorrow, you know you have always been my favorite daughter.”

Addie: “Umm, I’m your ONLY daughter, unless you count Myles” (her older bro).

Me while driving my 16 y.o to school: “I’m so sorry your car is jacked up buddy. It’s so weird how it seemed ok until your dad started messing with your alarm system.”

Blake: “Well, you know dad’s philosophy has always been-‘If it aint broke, fucking fix it 'til it is’---(love that kid!)

Me to my oldest nephew during the holidays:  “Man! Your little boy is darling & reminds me SO much of your little brother!”

Nephew:  “Oh really? Cuz he reminds me of the Devil.” (so crazy about my neph)

Stranger Vendor at the 4th Ave Street Fair in Tucson (the freak show of AZ/ arguably the universe):  “Excuse me, but here in about 10 minutes can you guys leave this curb to allow my fashion show to walk through here?”

Me:  “Oh sure! No worries, we’re just resting and grabbing a bite to eat.”

Stranger Vendor: “Where are YOU from?”

Me: Oh shit, what the fuck does THAT mean?  “Ummm, Tucson, why do you ask?”

Stranger Vendor:  “Oh, I thought I heard a southern accent.”

Me: God damnit! Be specific when you ask a question like that around HERE! I’ve seen people eating out of trash cans & snorting tree pollen at this freak show!  “Oh, well I grew up in Southern Kansas. We can get a little Oklahoma-ish. After all, we had to drive there to get our beer on Sundays. Good Ear! Are you from the south?”

Stranger Vendor: “Yeah Mississippi.”

Me: “Wow! ♫em eye ess ess eye ess ess eye pee pee eye♪ really? You don’t have even a hint of an accent, you sound just like a news anchor, how did you manage that?”

Stranger Vendor:  “Years and years and years of college.” (Bless his heart; I swear that was his response). THANK YOU scary fashion show vendor dude. Imma gunna tries to member that adivce, now go get your fuckin ghetto dresses ready for the fashion show while me & mine mosey on out of your way YOU FREAK!

My oldest son & I just looked at each other and tried not to spew our chicken on a stick out of our gosh dang noses while laughing. 

Addie while at 4th Ave Street Fair: “OMG MOM! Look at that lady snarfing that giant chicken leg!”

Me: “Actually Addie, that’s a TURKEY leg, do you think that’s cool?”
Addie: “Yeah, maybe if I was Homer Simpson.” 


Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Insane or Pink?

For the past few months I have been living in my own little personal hell because I thought I was going insane, especially while driving.

When ever I am driving, I swear that my cell phone is ringing, vibrating or notifying or some other kooky cell phone shit. I’ve found with having 4 school aged kids, that when the cell phone makes a noise, you DEAL with it!  After all, it could be the school nurse, the principal (or worse, the vice principal), a kid that forgot homework or field trip money, a kid facebooking song lyrics or school lock down statuses or the pediatrician asking for organ donation permission etc etc.

I have finally realized that my imaginary cell phone sounds are from songs on the radio.  Particularly “Raise Your Glass” by Pink. 

Every time that song is on the radio, I swear it sounds exactly like my phone! I ALWAYS freak out & start desperately digging for my phone while driving & trying to decide which kid organs I am willing to part with  (yeah okay, corneas, oh-wait, what happens in heaven without corneas? Shit-that might suck)

Everything changed the other day.  I have my awesome daughter to thank for the realization that I’m not completely crazy (or at least not alone in my insanity) because when we were in the car jamming to Pink’s Raise Your Glass song  -♫ Slam slam oh hot damn, what part of party don’t you understand?” (That’s my favorite part), awesome Addie Bird says “Mom, is your phone ringing?” OMG! I started happy driver dancing and daughter hugging (which for the record is not as dangerous as text driving) and welcomed her to cuckoo town. 

Now if I can just get that fucking ATT 4G “I like Tacos” commercial dude  to stop messing with my head, I will be in good shape!