They don't know about taxes but they've mastered the photo bomb

1. We ate in a restaurant recently with a Godfather poster on the wall and my kids asked about it. While explaining to my daughter why it wasn’t a movie for kids, I said it involved things that are only for grown ups. To which she said, “Like taxes?” No, little one, those are for everyone. You just don’t realize it yet.

2. While on the phone brainstorming an Italian restaurant before my marathon, I made the mistake of asking my old school father if he knew a restaurant nearby. First he has a loud discussion about it in the background with a friend followed by, “Hold on. We’re pulling out the phone book and we’re going to look one up for you.” I was calling him on an iPhone. Um. Yeah. Never mind. Pretty sure I can look one up on my phone.

3. My children are insane. We had an unseasonably warm day and sat outside grilling. Our dog, Honey Wheat, took a dip in the freezing cold pool and I tried to get a photo of him wrapped up like a babushka in a towel. While trying to get him in focus, my children demonstrated their above average photo bombing skills. 

The added touch of standing on a table to pose really added to the photo bomb.  Well played, girl.

We’ve obviously taught them well. Neither of them can run a washing machine or mow our yard for us yet, but they’ve mastered the photo bomb so we’re not complete failures as parents yet. 

Welcome to the gun show.

4. I am the proud parent of the kid that took the worst school photo ever. He’s 8. Shove him in front of a camera and my devoted mother heart should love any shot of him. That is unless he’s wearing an idiotic shirt, has hit foot up on some object that’s not in the shot and has opted to grind his teeth instead of smile.

I’m tempted to buy one just to have it at my disposal years down the line when he starts to think he’s cool. When he was younger, I’d blame myself for the idiotic shirt on his body because I didn’t watch the calendar better and know it was picture day. But at 8 years old, I’m prepared to put that madness on him. Technically, I’m prepared to put anything on anyone else at any given moment. But in this case, it might actually make sense.

5. My household enjoyed the Winter Olympics but we are happy our television now offers other options for our viewing pleasure. Exhibit A: Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. I am losing sleep trying to decide if Lisa is the big fat liar or Brandi. On the one hand, I feel like there’s an element of shadiness to Brandi in how she’s always stirring up trouble. She acts like she doesn’t but she does. On the other hand, I do think it’s beyond odd that Lisa employed the girl that slept with Brandi’s husband for 4 years and the girl was friends with Lisa’s daughter but it never once got brought to her attention that the girl had that connection with Brandi. For example, even if it never came up before, once Brandi was on Real Housewives even once, you’d think it would get mentioned to Lisa that the girl knew Brandi. I believe that. And if I believe that, it means Lisa knowingly had waitressing at the first party and faked like she didn’t know anything. But beyond that, there’s been another party at Kyle’s house where Sur staff served and Lisa could have arranged for that girl to not be on the list of servers. A normal person would have done that. A normal person would have avoided putting her friend in that situation. But she didn’t. So that’s weird. So I’m left pondering it.

I’m also confused that the latest Downton Abbey season is already over. I feel like it lasted 5 minutes and they shouldn’t even be allowed to call it a season. And what’s up Mary even contemplated doing anything about Bates. Has she forgotten moving a dead body during the first season and then lying about it? I realize she didn’t kill the guy but it’s still pretty shady to move a body and hide the facts surrounding his death.

Linking up with Darci for Five on Friday!

I must have been pumping gas during the opening ceremony

1. I want to tell you that my 10 year old shattered my soul the other day and I may or may not be scarred for life. I was issuing the nightly pjs and toothbrush proclamation and my daughter responded by asking me, “Momma, were you ever fun?” I immediately reevaluated my life, who I am and how my children see me. My husband immediately laughed long and hard identifying it as emotional blackmail to delay bedtime.


Me thinks someone needs to go to be early tonight.  Who's the fun one now, kid?  Huh?  How you like them apples?

2. I want to tell you that I’m confused that people are competing in the Winter Olympics already but we haven’t even sat through the long boring opening ceremony yet. You know. That ceremony you watch so you can decide who has the cutest team uniforms. Or maybe that ceremony you watch to see if anyone will ever be able to top that time Spain lit the torch by shooting an arrow and risking the guy possibly choking and missing wildly to the left. I’m also confused about this team figure skating nonsense. When did that become a team sport? Was this Russia’s idea? Because there’s no way Australia was like, yeah, let us get our butts kicked a little extra in figure skating. I’m no Scott Hamilton but I’m here to say they had that medal on lock down last night with their Men’s and Pairs. Boom. But I am not in favor of those Russians just padding their winnings with an extra medal. It’s not right. Let’s start a petition.

3. I want to tell you that it snowed yesterday where I live. We get snow maybe a handful of times a year. Naturally, the gas light in my car comes on pretty much every single time. Much like it magically comes on every single time I’m running late for something. It’s also a known fact that if my husband is going to borrow my car, he will discover the light on despite the number of times he has explained to me why it is bad to play the gas game. I’ve also been known to borrow his car and leave it on empty. I swear I forget to fill up. It’s not intentional. I’m just a space cadet. Really.


This is the face of a man who cannot believe the number of times his wife has been caught driving around town with the gas light on.  This is the face of a man who has explained to his wife repeatedly why any reasonably intelligent person would stop doing that.  He doesn't want to hear any crap about how cold it is, either.  He walked uphill in the snow both ways to get to school.  He almost lost a finger to frostbite and you want to complain about swiping a credit card and climbing back in to wait until the tank is full?  Suck it.  That's what he has to say to you.

 4. I want to tell you I’m over Shahs of Sunset. In fact, it’s hard to even remember what I liked about that show to begin with. Asa doesn’t interest me. G.G. has too much time on her hands and thinks anyone that speaks to her sister is evil. She seems sweet enough but the diamond water thing comes across pretentious. Mike seems to not have a job but shops for expensive engagement rings. If he spent as much time making money as he spends talking about how he needs to make money, that might help. And M.J. consistently wears clothes that don’t fit her. I’ve officially deleted it from my DVR schedule.

5. I want to tell you, I am not over Real Housewives of Atlanta. In fact, I’ve been very annoyed they haven’t had a new episode this week. Either that or my DVR is toying with me. But that fight at the pajama party last week was straight up cray. First, because Nene invited a lot of people that don’t get along so what did she expect was going to happen. Then she was slightly obnoxious walking back and forth in front of everyone. And then Kenya’s friend lost his mind. And then so did Apollo. In the preview last week, Kenya’s friend claims that breaking someone’s rib is an automatic felony. That’s pricelessly ridic. I need to see more. Stat. Like he didn’t do anything to ramp up the crazy that led to the broken rib. And I’m concerned about Cynthia’s marriage. And Phaedra’s. Although at least Phaedra can blame it on having a new baby. I also think Portia needs to go find a job to pay for the huge house she decided to rent because I can’t be the only one that isn’t even remotely interested in her on this show. Her husband was interesting. And by interesting, I mostly mean it was interesting that he didn’t seem to realize the show made him look bad because why else would he have agreed to be on it.




 

Linking up with Kate for Finish the Sentence Friday and Darci for Five on Friday:

I missed the party but at least I got a good price on tater tots

Dude. Remember when you were young and fresh on the job and your vacation days went to, get this, actual vacations? Ah, those were the days. The days of milk and honey. Let’s all take a moment to reflect on our days of milk and honey . . .

Now let’s get back to the real world and reflect on life as a grown up. Yesterday I took a precious vacation day to go to a work celebration for my dad and my kids’ Christmas parties at school. The universe spaced them out just enough that I had to take the whole day off to attend both. So then I’m grocery shopping on my vacation day. Grocery shopping. I can’t think of anything less milk and honey than schlepping my cart up and down the frozen food aisle trying to figure out the best price on frozen tater tots on my vacation day. I also schlepped a kid to dance, did the dishes and made dinner.

On the other hand, I did also find time to get a run in during daylight hours instead of pitch black and I conditioned my hair. So it wasn’t a total loss. But still. Vacation days should be for big fun. Stuff that involves roller coasters, going somewhere you’ve never been or at minimum sleeping late.

On top of not being particularly enthused that my vacation day was turning into a series of errands, my son’s teacher did not successfully communicate to me that his party was starting at 1:00. His sister’s fifth grade party was at 1:30 and the rest of the school was 2:00. So naturally I hit the school at 1:30. We’re 25 minutes into her party when the mother of a kid in my son’s class is rolling in and she asks if we made it to the 2nd grade party. I’m all, huh?

The mother of the year successfully arrived for her son's 1:00 party at 1:55. They were packing up their backpacks and getting ready to go to music. Um. Yeah.

Momma loves you! I swear she does! I blame your teacher for not getting the word out better! So what if the PTA broadcast mentioned it! They send 4,000 emails a day. I can’t be expected to read every testing single one! I’m one person! I can only do so much! And where’s your personal responsibility in this, kid? Did you hide that flyer from me? Are you intentionally trying wreak havoc on my stress level? Is your sister in on this? Let’s go buy you something expensive to help you forget my mom fail! Just kidding! Instead we’ll quickly shove you next to your reindeer and take your photo. We’ll also subject you to lots and lots of hugs and kisses until the guilt subsides.

Mother of the year, in the house!

And then we trekked back to the fifth grade party. Pretty sure all the other 5th grade parents couldn’t believe how long I was at the party. I normally split my time 50/50 in the hopes of avoiding anyone claiming I love their sibling more and requiring therapy for the rest of their life. So I’m normally a ship passing in the night at these gigs. No rushing required this time though. Guess that’s the up side of blowing off your other kid.

Sigh.

At least it’s Friday!

1. I located a genius product at Target:

Prebuilt gingerbread houses.  We’ve done several over the years. One time we baked the walls ourselves and other times we've used the stale hard as a rock pre baked pieces you assemble.  Wall assembly is always the full tilt crazy part.  We always have icing everywhere and our structures are always less than sturdy.  But, if a roof piece doesn’t break or cave in or both at some point during the gingerbread house activity, I’d like to know how much fun you really had. 

2.  My husband was looking pretty fly at my daughter's Christmas program the other day.  He was rocking his Clark Kent glasses and nice little shirt.   I'll take it.  The kid's not rough on the eyes either. 

3. My son got a haircut. He loves getting a haircut because he loves any activity that helps him resemble his father more.  I find every haircut he’s ever gotten slightly painful because a kid with a fresh haircut always looks older. Older = Less my baby. Less my baby = Boo hoo hoo. My husband thinks I’m ridiculous. I think my husband needs to stop buzzing my baby’s head.

4.On top of looking older with a haircut, my son has a birthday around the corner, too. 8. Sigh. I’m against his sister aging, too. But she’s older. So whenever she ages, I just comfort myself that I still have her brother at least. But he doesn't have younger fall back siblings. So when he ages, I find it difficult to pretend he’s still little.

5.At the office crock pot driven Christmas celebration, my team successfully left the crock pot on high for over 48 hours. There were like 4 people in the office today with everyone already off for the holidays and luckily one of them is a bloodhound and sniffed the situation out. The water cooler discussion afterwards was whether or not a crock pot can catch fire. It was the least scientific discussion ever and not one of us has any subject matter expertise. And yet, every one of us was willing to offer an opinion. And we wonder what is wrong with America. And I say that having voted, yes, crock pots could potentially burn down a building.

Linking up with fatchick2fitchick for That's Fresh Friday and Darci for Five on Friday!

Off to build a snowman against my will

1. On top of it being Friday which is by definition the best day of the week, my kids and I won the lottery and got a snow day, too. School and work are closed and everyone is in their pjs destroying the house. My kids are trying to convince me to go make a snow man out of some seriously hard snow. I'm trying to convince my kids we should all be mute and just lay in bed reading all day. So far, they're winning. Darn it.

This is where the snowman should go, Momma!   Hurry up and get out here!

2. My Christmas tree is not up yet. I feel like if I don't get it up this weekend I'll be completely behind the game. One might think a surprise snow day might be a sign from the universe to get her done. One might be forgetting that I'd rather spend the day in bed reading. Plus, my schedule is already pretty booked up with the snowman I'm going to be forced against my will to go outside and build with my children. I'm likely to get pants wet and lose feeling in my toes. That will require some recovery time. The recovery time is likely to involve the bed and a book. I'll count it as a victory if it doesn't involve Oreos, too.

It is not your imagination.  That snowman appears to be leaning over.  That would be my son attempting to perform a take down.  Because we're not enough of a train wreck at the movies as it is.  We definitely need to knock the snowman display over on our way to the popcorn counter. 

3. My brother and I took the kids to see Frozen last weekend. I thought the whole movie was about the stupid snowman and wanted to avoid it like the plague.  But it not. And it's actually good. Especially the music which is strikingly lovely.  It's also funny and heart warming.  Who knew?  The kids loved it, too.  As if anyone cares what they thought.  But if you have kids, you should take them to see it. You will not want to kill yourself part way through it.   So jump on it.  Leave the movies that make you want to die for someone else to take the kids to.

One piece of rope securing it.  Because why waste time on a second piece of rope.  Genius.

4. I drove past a guy on the highway recently with what appears to be a mattress and box spring on the roof of his 4 door little sedan.  We were in traffic going 60 miles per hour.  I must be getting old because all I could think was the $50 this jerk saved not renting a u-haul is not worth someone's life.  What the hell, dude.  In what universe is that a good plan?  In what universe did I become old and crotchety?


5.  In other WTH news, if you are in the market for a reindoor holding a shot gun to put in your front yard to celebrate Christmas this year, Walmart has them in stock.  Nothing says Santa and the birth of baby Jesus like animals holding guns.  And if reindeers aren't your thing, no worries.  You can get a penguin one instead.

 

I know all about the Walmart Christmas section because Clark Griswold has had me in there 3 times already browsing the latest innovations in Christmas lights.  I made the mistake of leaving a bucket of his lights at work over Thanksgiving and he tried to claim I'd single-handedly sabotaged  our entire light display for the year.

We took a field trip into our attic to visit the other 47 strands of lights we own including 13 unopened boxes purchased on sale last year after Christmas.  Every Clark Griswold in my office totally took his side when I recounted this story later. Something about those being "the good lights." Whatever.  

Linking up with fatchick2fitchick for That's Fresh Friday and Darci for Five on Friday!

Bring on the Weekend!

Right now I’m thankful for . . .

1. Weekends. I’m ready for one. Technically, I’m ready for 2 or 3, but I’ll settle for one. Especially ones without any soccer games, birthday parties or urgent crap that needs to be taken care of.   Bring it!

2. Amazon prime free 2 day shipping. Realized Monday that Allegiant came out and this girl hadn’t ordered it yet. While ordering it, noticed the new Mara Dyer book is also out. Boom. Even tossed in some footless tights my 10 year old wannabe dancer needed for ballet. That’s called 2 birds with one stone, people. On my front porch waiting for me when I came home from work 2 days later. Boom boom.

3. Having 2 new books I’m excited to read and a weekend with no soccer games, birthday parties or any other urgent crap that needs to be taken care of. Me and my flannel PJs will be curled up reading all weekend. Whee!

Hat night!  Like headband night except slightly less odd.

4. My insane in the membrane Italian Stallion husband. He’s making me run a mud run with him and group of guys tomorrow in the freezing cold. I’m a pretty delicate flower so you can pretty much bet on tears or cursing. And if I scrape my knees or twist an ankle, it will only go further downhill. So I’m blocking it from my mind. The Race of Which We Do Not Speak. Although if I spoke about it, I’d say it was nice of the Italian Stallion to want me to do it with him. Although if I spoke about, I’d also say it’d be nice to go for hot chocolate and stay dry instead. But whatever.

I am made of steel.  Therefore, I am impervious to cold weather.  Let's jump in some mud and run 6 miles.  Do not cry, little china doll.  Your scraped knees will heal and you'll get a great blog post out of it.  If you agree to stop yelling at me, I'll even hit the Starbucks drive thru for hot cocoa on the way home. 

5. My return to watching reality television. Caught up on Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Carlton seems interesting but wenchy. Thumbs up. The other new chick doesn’t interest me in the least. I’ve decided I like Yolanda. I’m confused what Kyle’s problem with her is and wish she would shut up about it.

And Kyle is seriously trying to jinx herself by being so vehement in declaring that the rumors about her husband cheating are not true. I hope that female knocked on wood or something because I am now just waiting for the cover of US Magazine with all the females he cheated with. Just blow it off and move on, girl. Don’t be a complete weepy mess on national television talking about how completely great your marriage is and that no one can split you up. It’s like triple dog daring the universe.

And Brandi really needs to dial back gossiping about Lisa. She played both sides of the fence joining right in on the fake faint conversation in the limo and then reporting it to Lisa 3 seconds after she walked in the door as if it was the others doing it and not her.






Linking up with Kate for Finish the Sentence Friday and Darci for Five on Friday!

Say My Name

I have been at home sick for two days.  Yesterday I wore 4 layers of clothing and a winter hat while laying under the covers in bed. I'm currently sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, not getting any rest girl.   I blame it all on the cold weather camping which I blame on my husband which, therefore, makes my illness obviously his fault, too.  

1. I finished up Breaking Bad on Tuesday.  I full on wanted to scream when Hank announced that the crazy Nazi guy had made up his mind 10 minutes ago out there in the desert.  I also wanted to scream at Skylar for not just poisoning Walter at any point along the way.

2. I promptly announced over the water cooler at work that I had finished Breaking Bad.  Cue the lost hour of my life debating important issues like Walter's redeeming qualities, could there ever realistically be a sequel and the exact point when Walter turned the corner towards kingpin crazy.  My favorite though is the debate over the best quote from the show.  We narrowed it down to "I am the danger" and "Say my name."

On the one hand, "Say my name" is easier to work into casual conversation because people that haven't seen the show can appreciate it as a zany kind of comment to talk smack with.  It's also easy to picture on a t-shirt.  On the other hand, "I am the danger" is from an awesomely memorable and character defining scene but you'd have to have seen it to know that.  But it's the most fun quote to say to other people that have watched the show.  And by saying it to other people, I mean pretending you are Walter and saying it with the correct emphasis in the sentence, "I AM the danger."  Third place was hands down, "I am the one who knocks."   
 
3.  After watching 6 seasons of Jessie Pinkman, I have to resist the urge to work "Yo" into every sentence.  It's also a struggle to not use the word "Bitch" at the end of sentences instead of an exclamation mark.  First world problem. 

 

4. I'm currently experiencing Breaking Bad withdrawal.  I suppose that's the fall out from spending every free moment on Netflix binge watching and when there are no more episodes left you have to remember what you used to do with your evening.  I hadn't watched anything on my DVR in over 2 weeks.  Last night I discovered the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills started.  If a new season of any Real Housewives series starts and I'm not there to watch it, did the season really start? I say no.

5.  Real Housewives is very low commitment so it works perfect during my post Breaking Bad fallout.  Binge watching an entire season is fun because it eliminates pesky things like waiting for the new season to start to find out what happens.  But you can't rush from one series to the next.  During the fall out period you have to keep things light and not too demanding on your time or brain.  Cue the reality television.




Linking up with Darci for Five on Friday!

Muffin tops come in size 6, too

1. I was recently accosted by two children trying to give me a “spa day.” It included rodeo clown make up and a cracked out attempt at a hot pink French manicure. On one hand only. Naturally. My daughter was confused that I wouldn't want to wear the nail polish to work like that the next day.

This spa day involved less relaxation and pampering and more kids climbing on your lap and threatening to jab you in the eye with the mascara wand. I tried explaining to my son that most makeup artists don’t actually sit on your lap while they work.  I also attempted to explain to his sister that the eye shadow shouldn't form a complete circle around your eye.  

Since when do make up artists share lip stick with their clients?


 2. I ate my weight in Kit Kats and Twix last night. I feel confident Kit Kats contain crack and are highly addictive. I need a stint in Kit Kat rehab to break the cycle. Sadly, I don’t know that I’ve hit rock bottom yet. For example, my kitchen still contains 3 giant containers full of candy. I may or may not know exactly which one contains the remaining Kit Kats. I may or may not be thinking about them right this very second.

3. Finished Season 4 of Breaking Bad last night. Holy crud the last 2 or 3 episodes were off the chain. And I would like it noted that I totally knew where that poison had to have come from. 

In addition to being entertaining, I’ve also found Breaking Bad very educational. And I don’t mean I learned how to cook meth. The important lessons I’ve learned have all been about how good it is that I’m not in the meth manufacturing or distribution field. Because that field requires nerves of steel that I don't have. Like lead in your veins and the ability to look people in the eye and lie well even with a gun to your head. It also includes the ability to come up with some super well thought out but extremely risky plan and then commit to the plan and see it through despite all the chances of things going wrong and how completely unpredictable everyone you deal with is.

It probably doesn’t hurt if you barely value your own life so that the possibility of getting killed really won’t bother you. That is the only possible explanation for how people can act chill while death and destruction is driving directly towards them at 80 miles an hour.

This chick right here couldn’t do it. First, because I flush red when I’m upset. So my cards are on the table when I’m hacked off or nervous. Second, because I’d have a total heart attack in the midst of the death and destruction. Up until the heart attack I’d be alternating between screaming and weeping. If there’s blood involved, I’m thinking screaming. If there are threats of imminent harm, I’m thinking weeping. It's for the best that I don’t actually need to find out first hand.

4. I crammed myself into a size 6 pair of jeans recently. Shock and awe that they buttoned and zipped. More shock and awe that you can cram yourself into size 6 pair of jeans and still have a total muffin top situation going on. But muffin top sticking out the top of size 6 jeans is better than muffin top sticking out the top of the size 18 jeans I started with.  So, holla! 

Don't worry.  I didn't buy the high waters.  It finally dawned on me that not all size 6 jeans are "short" and that they don't write that on all the size 6 tags.  See how clueless you end up when you've never bought a size 6 pair of jeans before in your whole entire life.  Duh.

 
5. My husband did not know what a muffin top was when I subjected him to my muffin top analysis. He asked me if it was some sort of blogging term. Um. Yeah. It’s blogger code for do some sit ups already, girl.






Linking up with Darci for Five on Friday!

Dog Shaming

I’m so glad it’s Friday. I say that literally every week but I really feel that in my soul this week. And I'm going Five on Friday with my obsession for the week.

1. After posting about our dog, Honey Wheat, and his crack whore addiction to swiping loaves of bread off our counter, I wandered over to Pinterest and fell into the well of Dog Shaming pictures. They are essentially photos of dogs with a sign that lays out that dog’s most egregious crime against their owner. There are all different kinds ranging from a foot in a cast and a sign saying the dog tripped the owner all the way up to dogs actually chewing on money or someone’s hard earned college diploma. My favorites are the ones about dogs eating things they shouldn’t. My personal favorite is two dogs in a sea of stuffing they pulled out of a couch they were eating and the sign says, “This is why Mom and Dad can’t have nice things.”

I feel that owner’s pain. So much so that I want to drive to that owner’s house and hold hands. We’ve lost a couch, part of a pillow top mattress and too many pillows to count. My husband has wanted to buy a brand new couch for roughly 7 years now and everytime he explains to me why he wants it I explain to him why I will blow a gasket if we pay several thousand dollars for nice new furniture and they eat a hole in it. I will be physically incapable of cohabitating with those dogs. So the furniture is on hold. For 7 years.

2. I pinned so many dog shaming pictures I decided Honey Wheat needed his own dog shaming photo to commemorate his crimes against humanity.    

I love how happy that ninny looks while posing with the evidence.  See what we're up against?  



Looking slightly more apologetic for his crimes.

3. And since Honey Wheat is a repeat offender, I couldn’t decide if Honey Wheat’s most egregious crime was the bread or the watermelon he inhaled in its entirety.

He did.  Rind and all.  He's nuts.

4. I also couldn’t decide why I had the nerve to call that dog dumb when we’re the ones that left 5 loaves of bread on the counter one right after the other for him to swipe. So then I decided we needed our own dog owner shaming photo. 

My husband's shame is apparently so great he felt the need to cover his face.

5. Honey Wheat’s kid brother, Twister, has long been under a cloud of suspicious related to the bread swiping. Honey Wheat is the greedy bottomless pit that scouts for food incessantly so we’re pretty sure he acts alone locating and swiping the bread.   But if there was any doubt about whether or not Twister was partaking in the illicit gains from the bread swiping, I think his dog shaming photo says it all. That dog couldn’t even make eye contact in the presence of the shredded bread bag. Guilty as charged. 

The willing accomplice. 

 





Linking up with Darci for Five on Friday!

Don't feed the caged animals

It's raining, I'm tired and someone in my house told my DVR not to record the finale of Big Brother.  Before I head off to interrogate my family to identify the culprit, I leave the interwebs with Five on Friday.

1. I’ve been on a project at work that required me to be in a room with 2 other people for 6 full days.  We did 3 days.  Then there was a week long break and we resumed our regularly scheduled programming.  And then we did another 3 days.  

By the end of the 6th day, I was like a caged animal frantically clawing at the lock.  I was ready to eat my young and trample anyone between me and the door.  I may or may not be exaggerating.  The truly strange part is that I wasn’t really doing anything in that room that I wouldn’t normally be doing and the other 2 people were a actually a pleasure to spend time with.   Apparently, the moment you tell me I have to be somewhere for an extended period of time, every instinct in my body just automatically wants to rebel and escape.   

 

2. This week is almost over.  Few things are better than the realization that there’s only 1 more day until the weekend.  My children’s many activities have begun to gear up for the fall and they all decided to start gearing up this week.  I’m the idiot that signs these kids up for this crap so I really have no one else to blame for our hectic schedule.  And yet I rarely let that stop me from complaining.  2 things on Monday.  1 on Tuesday.  2 on Thursday and 2 on Friday.  And my daughter’s volleyball team hasn’t even started practicing yet.     

The star volleyball player planning her outfit for practice and half a yoga ball.  I don't always photograph my children but when I do I always throw half of a random object into the shot to be sure no one thinks I know what I'm doing. 

 3. I'm hoping my daughter is actually on a volleyball team.  The registration for the league she plays on doesn't charge your credit card or confirm that you submitted it right until just before the season starts.  A rocket scientist clearly designed that process.

We're still waiting to hear from her coach so we'll know for sure she got on the team she loves.  I am currently going full OCD trying to remember if I did in fact register her back in July or if I have managed to screw this kid over by forgetting and the sign up period being closed now.  I’m currently 87.6% sure I did register her.  On the other hand, I’m 99.99% sure that if I’m wrong, my daughter will make sure I live to regret it. 

My current favorite song thanks to the stupid hamster Kia Soul commercial.  Coincidentally, this is also what I look like on 3 hours of sleep and attempting to not physically harm anyone.

4. I only got 3 hours of sleep on Monday night.  I have been paying the piper ever since.  I blame the lack of sleep on a new book I was reading (Me Before You by Jojo Moyes).  I started it over the weekend and had 60 pages left Monday night at 11:30 and threw caution to the wind.  They were a great 60 pages right up until it was 1:00 in the morning and I was frantically trying to convince myself to fall asleep.  Nothing sucks quite like counting the hours of sleep you will (or will not!) be getting and knowing that every second you don’t fall asleep is one less second of rest you’re getting and picturing the level of exhaustion you will feel in the morning growing exponentially as each second passes. 

On the bright side, while laying awake picturing the death and destruction of a day spent operating on 3 hours of sleep, I decided it was time to give Spark another test run and I’m here to report I sucked some down pretty much all day Tuesday.  I’m feel confident I was one wired wench but I was a wired wench sitting upright and speaking in complete sentences.  Winning!

Cadbury Screme Eggs.  Get it?!? The rabbit with the hat is a nice touch.

 5.  Did it seriously take the Cadbury people this long to realize they should branch out to other holidays?  And more importantly, please tell me they plan to have an equally cute name for the Christmas Eggs their marketing department hopefully has in the works.  My Jelly Belly would also like to know if they'll be cranking out some pumpkin shaped Mini Eggs.  My brain and utter lack of self control is hoping they aren't.  

Linking up with Darci for Five on Friday!

The Medicated Italian Stallion Finishes the Sentence

My husband has trouble going to bed at a normal hour and staying asleep all night.  He sometimes takes sleep medication to help with it.  He's a nut case on a good day without sleep medication in his system.  All bets are off when that dude is medicated.

Don't bother trying to reason with him either.   It's better to just tell him to lay down and go to sleep.  Unless you're doing a Finish the Sentence Link Up with  Holly and Jake.  Because then it's just blog fodder so you should definitely get him talking.

Even the medicated Italian Stallion agrees.  For example, after telling him about the link up he explained to me in detail that he knows funny.  He also mentioned that I don't know how to manage funny.  I'm not even sure what managing funny means.  But I do know it means he's taken his sleep medication so it's time to have him start Finishing the Sentences.  His answers are in red.

You can never have enough pictures of your husband pretending to eat your kid.  That dude knows funny.

My happy place . . .  The bathroom after a 32 ounce cup of coffee and 2 bowls of salsa.  Pants should be around the ankles and book in hand. He'd be okay with a locked bathroom door, too.

Whatever happened to . . . Pop Rocks and Jolt soda. He's also curious about Captain Kangaroo and Sigmund the Sea Monster.  Uh, oh.  The eyelids are drooping and he's now fretting about Captain Kangaroo and waxing nostalgic.  Let's keep him moving.

So what if I . . . There's a lot going on.  Did we vote for America's Got Talent yet?  Huh.  A little sidetracked.  Maybe it's lingering nostalgia.

E! needs a reality show about ... Me.  And my vida loca.  I would like it noted that he answered this specific question while scratching his butt.  Classy.  At least we know he's done feeling nostalgic.  

My go-to fast food meal is . . . Don't know. Then he started demanding to know what this question refers to.  Who knew there could be a hidden agenda in a question about fast food?  And for the record the correct answer to this for anyone with taste buds should be Taco Hell and the the Bell Grande specifically.  Back in the day, I even got paid minimum wage to run the drive thru there so I'm pretty much a subject matter expert.   That includes knowing the 411 on the horrors of how that tasty crap is produced.  For example, the beans arrive at The Bell dried and looking like corn flakes.  Hot water and 30 minutes later and you have beans.  And yet, my inner fat girl don't care and says extra sour cream no green onions let's do this.   I never saw them put crack in the food while working there but there can be no other logical explanation for how addictive it can be.

You might not know that I . . . Am the product of crazy.  Right.  No one would ever guess that, carebear.  Good one.  I'd also like it noted that there was more itching taking place while contemplating that answer.

Quality parenting going on here.  Hard to decide who's doing a better job.  Him pretending to hold a beer bottle up to the kid's mouth or me for taking the picture.

The hottest quarterback in the NFL is . . . Payton Manning.  No hesitation.  I was all, um, really?   Me thinks he misunderstood the question.  I'm assuming he thought he'd wandered into a discussion about which player managed to cost his fantasy football team the win this week.   He then further confused me by immediately clarifying that Mark Sanchez is in fact the correct answer based on physical appearance.  Still no hesitation.  Interesting.
   
If I could . . . I'd open up a donut store that sells Taco Bell to keep our family together forever.  Highly medicated at this point.   Clearly.   No idea what he's saying.  Fading fast. 

My personality is awesome because . . . It's mine and it's funny.  He claims it's also light.  That's so ridiculous let's all agree to pretend he didn't say it.

Twerking is . . . A beautiful dance move and back stretch.  It's medicinal really.  Therapeutic even.

I think it's super gross when . . . There's mysterious brown crap on our son's hands when he reaches his hands toward my face to pat my face.  I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.  Gag. Me.

Why that kid would willingly agree to put his hands over his head is beyond me.  You're being set up, kid.  Tickle torture ahead.

Someone needs to tell Miley Cyrus . . . You're a young girl and you should qwerk in private. With Billy Ray.  Is it called qwerking?   Medicated Italian Stallion in the house.




Linking up with Holly and Jake!  

I'm sure I'll ride faster once I start weighing myself again

I leave the interwebs with Five on Friday as I prepare to fall face first into the weekend and not get up again until Tuesday.

1. I can’t wait to weigh myself first thing Monday morning. I’ve put myself to the test for the month of August and haven't weighed myself once. I’m hating it. I admire everyone that can throw their scale out and focus just on how they feel and the fit of their pants.  I’m not one of them and it has mostly just played games with my head. Maybe if I discover I’ve stayed the same weight despite no weigh ins for a month I’ll change my mind. But that would blow my mind.

The new bike left me behind so quickly all I got was this crappy photo with a trash can in the middle of it. 

2. My husband bought a fast new bike. He was already effortlessly stronger and faster than me on his old bike. Why I let him get something faster is beyond me. Why I still try to keep up is an even bigger mystery. It should be a rule that the strongest person in the house is required to have the slowest bike so the rest of us have a fighting chance. The family that rides together stays together . . . even if there are certain people leaving other certain people in the dust . . .


Duh.  Of course he's going to smoke you on that new bike.  What the hell were you thinking?

3. The water fountain and the bathroom on my floor at work are both working again. Is it weird that I was more excited about the water fountain working than I was about the bathroom?
4. My family’s faith in humanity did not suffer a blow when B-Double O-T-Y got eliminated on America’s Got Talent for the 2nd time this week. We were initially super excited that Mel B used her judge’s pick on them last week. So excited it required us to make phone calls to distribute the news far and wide. But their performance didn’t end up doing anything for us this week. We couldn’t decide if it’s because we’ve seen the song enough now that it’s getting old or if they were just kind of shouting the song in a way we didn’t like. At any rate, no broken hearts in our house. Our favorite was the #2 pencil comic. Awkwardly charming and funny for the win.

Too legit to quit.  No wonder she rooted for B-Doube O-T-Y.

 5. How much do I hate Amanda on Big Brother? Her judgment is getting off the charts whacked out. Watching her intentionally torture Elissa in the hopes of frazzling her so Andy could comfort her just made me sad for the state of mankind. I get that it’s a game. I kinda see her strategy in trying to get her to soften towards Andy. Maybe? But then she carried the plan out by shouting insults including derogatory things about Elissa’s physical appearance and was just a full blown jerk about it. That’s not a reasonable way to treat someone else. Is that who you are as a person?

And the rest of the idiots let her do it. Nobody thinks maybe that’s bullying and they should point it out to her. Nobody thinks maybe they should tell her she’s being a jerk. Such a sad commentary on our society. The only thing better was the episode before last where someone told Amanda she’s a bully or bossy or something and she had to subject everyone to confirming for her that she’s not. Except you could tell everyone knew it was true and was just saying it to be agreeable and get her to shut up. If the next HOH doesn’t nominate her and her boy toy against each other we should kidnap Baby Zingbot and hold him for ransom until they forcibly remove Amanda from house.





Linking up with Darci for Five on Friday!

The dryer shrank my jeans from the other room

Another Friday.  Another link up for Finish the Sentence Friday and Five on Friday.  This week's sentence to finish is, "I wasn't really myself when . . ."

1. I wasn't really myself when I voluntarily handed over my credit card to pay $54 dollars for new tennis shoes for my 7 year old son.  There can be no other explanation for it.  Yes, he had spent 10 minutes in the basketball aisle trying to talk me into the world's funkiest basketball high tops even though he doesn't play basketball.  Yes, I was so grateful not to have to be seen in public with a kid in the world's funkiest basketball high tops that I probably would have agreed to any other shoe in the store.  But $54? Really?

So help me, if those shoes fall apart in 2 months, I'm going to have a conniption fit like an overtired toddler demanding a lollipop at the grocery store checkout.   Cheapo fall apart 2 months later shoes are fine when your kid's outgrowing shoes every 2 months.  But we're well into the "wear them awhile" period.  That means the soles of his shoes need to stay on longer than 2 months.   

New shoes in effect! Do not be fooled by my crappy photography skills.  They are blue and fluorescent yellow. 

2. I wasn't really myself when I had to go without internet for 2 whole days this week. I know.  The horror.  Holy crap my household is internet codependent.  I was like a child in the forest trying to find her way.  Wandering.  Confused.  Attempting to read Big Brother live feed recaps on my tiny little iPhone.   Not cool, Verizon.  Not cool.  I also blame Verizon for the speeding ticket I got on Wednesday.  I have not yet figured out how that's Verizon's fault but it's equally annoying and therefore far more pleasant to blame on someone other than myself.

No internet = Let's swim!

3. I wasn't really myself when I had the nerve to think I was getting on top of things earlier this week.  I was printing out paperwork, filling out assorted forms and dropping stuff in the mail.  I was mentally crossing stuff off my to do list thinking how much lighter I felt carrying around one less thing on my to do list.  That is the equivalent of tempting fate.  Murphy's law requires fate to shove 23 things down my throat that need to be done yesterday.

Cue the police sirens pulling me over to give me a speeding ticket.  Cue the missing car insurance card so I now have to locate one and show it to someone to get me off the hook for that extra no insurance ticket.  Cue the start of soccer season and the soccer coach that's left me off the email distribution list for the last week.  Cue the work related trip my husband had to go on last minute.  Cue the sink full of dishes.  Cue the kid that forgot to mention that her tennis shoes aren't the only shoes that don't fit so we have to make an extra trip to the store to get more shoes.  The odds of me agreeing to pay $54 for them are slim.  Her brother beat her to the punch on that one.  Sucks to be her.

4. I wasn't really myself when I agreed to let my kids stay up late every night the week before school starts.  How I think I'm dragging their lifeless bodies out of bed every morning next week is beyond me.  I blame America's Got Talent.  I normally hate contortionist acts and small children ballroom dancing.  But I loved the contortionist couple and the uber dramatic bullfighting tango thing (D'Angelo and Amanda).   It was complete icing on the cake when Mel B used her Judge's choice to bring B-Double O-T-Y back.   My household's faith in humanity is restored.

My tired baby trying to convince me she's not tired.  Riiiiiiighhht.

5. I wasn't really myself when I thought it would be a great idea to go the entire month of August without stepping on the scale.  It seemed like a good challenge.  I'm a girl that weighs every morning.  It takes 20 seconds and helps keep me aware of healthy eating.  The day after shoveling my face and throwing back Margaritas, I see the scale go up.  The day after inhaling fruit, veggies and normal portion sizes, I see the scale hold steady.

I don't drink often.  But when I do, I bring Captain Crazy to drink with me. 

No scale and suddenly I'm looking for accountability around every corner.  I took my compression running shorts out of the dryer the other day and spent my whole 3 mile run contemplating whether or not they feel tighter and whether or not the increased snugness (I decided around mile 1 it wasn't my imagination) is the result of over-drying or over-inhaling of food.   I'm currently in denial blaming over-drying.  It's interesting that my jeans are more snug from over-drying as well.  Not because over-drying isn't a real occurrence in our house but because my jeans haven't been in the dryer recently.  Interesting. 


 

Linking up with Kate for Finish the Sentence Friday and Darci for Five on Friday: