MammaWannabe

MOVED!

2008-03-31T08:10:00.001-04:00

Visit me at: mamawannabe.com

It's a work in progress - but I'm hoping to have everything dusted and pretty for when you come for tea.

Wii take this opportunity to discuss shoulder related injuries.

2008-02-27T19:15:00.008-05:00

Husband bought a Wii...about two weeks ago. Despite the camaraderie it has brought to my family (even my Dad jumped in and played a round or ten of Wii golf), I need to take a moment to complain.

My freaking thumbs hurt so bad I swear I have a carpel tunnel sort of syndrome in them now. Guitar Hero is no longer my hero. I painfully played songs until I couldn't feel my fingers just so my daughter could "buy" her father Slash. Because Guitar Hero just isn't Guitar Hero until you can pretend to be Slash.

And while we're on the subject. If you have any familiarity with Guitar Hero at all, you know of the characters offered. My son...he digs the robot dude. Daughter? Casey Lynch...have you seen Casey Lynch? Can you say NEGATIVE ROLE MODEL? She wears a skimpy little bathing suit/bra top and some fairly tight leather looking jeans (from what I can tell by staring at a cartoon that is). The best part? Once you start making money, you can buy her new outfits!!! More bras!!! With matching leather pants!!!!! YAY!!!! Needless to say, we've had frank discussions on wardrobe choices and how one should dress should one actually play wild electric guitar on the back of an open bed semi-truck, or in the backyard of some stranger who surely is providing alcohol to underage kids. Make no mistake...your soul is going up in flames once you allow your kids to play the devil's music on Guitar Hero. The nature of the dress code says so.

Evil as it is though, Guitar Hero has its merits. Like when we are able to hook up via Wi-Fi to play my brother's family in mano e mano matches. My nephew strums like he is ~~Satan~~ Santana incarnate. Thanks to him, I've had to put my kids on a daily training regimen so we can cowboy up real good for the next match. Who am I kidding? We’ll never win against them…but at least we’ll have fun trying!

There are other more educational games to be had. All of which I hope become as eternally damned as I am for letting my kids play Guitar Hero - for the simple reason that they've kicked my ass. Several times. Oh, and I'm pretty sure that at the ripe old age of 33, I'm going to need shoulder, knee and cartilage replacement. Why? Because you get SUCKED in.

Wii tennis fools you into thinking that you are actually playing tennis. It's subliminal, the sneaky way that this happens, but happen it does. You start out ho-hummingly swinging your arms back and forth to hit the ball. By the end of the game though, you are swinging ferociously, huffing and puffing and then the inevitable happens. You smash your hand into the wall trying to do your best impersonation of a perfect back-hand. Venus or Serena, you suddenly realize, you are not. Kids are laughing, the judge on the Wii screen (who doesn't have legs or arms that are in any way attached to his body) is openly mocking you calling you a complete idiot and asking you if you got your tennis racket out of a Cracker Jack Box. Okay, so that last part, doesn't really happen, but the Wii players DO NOT have attached limbs-it's downright freaky until you get lost in the game.

By far, my personal favorite is Playground. Although, there is one deviant on the "Playground" that I wish I could find the "kick her in the head" cheat code for. She's clearly the bully of the place as her area of expertise is tetherball. What nice kid plays tetherball? Nice kids do things like play paper airplanes or slot car racers or maybe even a friendly game of wallball. Nice, this girl is not. You should see the smug look on her face when she beats me too - I seriously want to slap her. This is what she looks like...tell me this isn't the same bully from years ago that used to steal lunch money and kick dirt in your eye...I dare you.

See? You want to hit her too, I can tell!

Anyway, I made my son beat her so I could move on the the next level. Where's the cheat code to flip someone the bird on the Playground when you need it?

Seriously though? Buy the Wii...get sucked in. It's all in good fun (except for the slutty Guitar Hero girls). But, when you do get sucked in, be prepared for some really sore muscles for a week or so, until your body gets used to the pummeling it takes. Look on the bright side though, this is NOT the typical couch potato type game system. You do get your exercise...whether or not you are physically capable of handling it seems to be the debatable part. Me? Not so much...you? Probably WAY more than me. I'm off to ice my shoulder now...Casey Lynch needs the Vast Purple outfit tonight.

13 Years

2008-02-11T08:31:00.000-05:00

Dear Husband,

As of today, we have been "us" for thirteen years, officially speaking. We have gone from unruly, uncooperative partners who threw things at each other (okay, so that was me...I'm the only one who threw anything), to card-carrying members of the World of Adults. We still fight, only now the difference is that we know how to walk away. We don't question whether or not "us" will be in existence the next day, next week, next month, or next year...we just know that we will be.

We've grown to learn each other's hot buttons. For example, you know that I am least likely to be happy to see your face first thing in the morning when I haven't yet had a cup of coffee (or nine, as seems to be the case lately). I know that you don't like it when I leave the cap off the toothpaste for extended periods of time (because the toothpaste gets all crusty). I also know that you don't like it when I take a box of Cheez-its to bed with me - it's not the act itself of bringing the box to bed, it's the fact that I usually don't put it back where it belongs and it sits on our nightstand for a few days. You are a person of order, and I am the casual laid-back, complete opposite of that.

Every now and then, you read my mind. You put your hand on my back when I feel like I need to know you're right there - without me asking you to. You bring home small presents, for no other reason than you thought I might like it, and I always do, and it's always, ALWAYS something I've been wanting, but never once told you about.

You don't seem to know it, but you are a fabulous father. You want so much for our children and I know this is why you work as hard as you do. They don't know it yet, nor do they appreciate it fully, but they will someday soon and it will make you realize for once and for all that it was worth it, that you've made a difference in the world because of the way you've raised your children.

From when we first met, you've made it your mission to make me laugh. What you don't realize is that what makes me laugh most is the sound of your laughter-I find it contagious and it makes me happy to "hear" you happy.

With you, I'm safe. I'm on common ground with you. We are partners on this road we've chosen. I've never regretted walking with you, not once, not ever.

You are my love; my life; and I'm so glad we crossed paths that one night, thirteen years ago.

Yes, I fake it.

2007-12-04T08:24:00.000-05:00

And my husband knows ALL about it. In fact, he's completely okay with it and helps me do it once a year.

Get your minds out of the gutter and stop thinking about the word that starts with an "s", ends with an "x" and has an "e" in the middle. We do that twice a year. Jeesch...start thinking about Jesus (he is the reason for the season) and not something, well, that most of us have no time for anymore anyway.

I'm talking about my Christmas tree. It's fake, and I'm probably going to be burned or beaten or whatever by my real-tree-loving friends, but I admit it. In fact, I LOVE MY TREE! Go ahead, hate me for not having a real one. But consider...

It's environmentally friendly (at least until you throw it away) - no need to harvest a tree!!!
It always looks perfectly cut. That is, unless you allow your kids to form the fake branches. In that case, it may end up looking like a drunk Johnny Depp and his freakishly long scissorhands got to it.
There's no need to host a "tree burning party" after Christmas. Think of all the cleaning and unnecessary food preparation that saves you!
No scratches on the roof of the car! No bungee cords to wrastle with!!! It comes in a box!!! A box you can put in your trunk!!!
No need to water - again, think of the environment and the tap water you are saving.
Minimal clean up - no wayward pine needles for you to vacuum up. Of course, there more than likely will be a couple of the wayward plastic/vinyl needles that tend to fall of the tree (especially when your kids "help" with putting it up). BUT, you only vacuum those up ONCE! There's no repeat!
Great ROI - I'm on year number 11 with this tree. We originally paid about $100 for it. So technically, I'm "getting" a 6-foot tree every year for the bargain price of $9.09. Where can you get a tree THAT cheap and still have it look good?

I know there's more fakers out there...come out of the stocking, or the chimney, or where ever it is you've been hiding (statcounter tells me you ARE there, you just choose to not make yourself known!). Tell me your reasons for faking it and there could be a prize!!!

Goodbye House

2007-12-03T08:31:00.000-05:00

Ding-dong the house is gone! The house is gone! Ding-dong the house that wouldn't sell is gone!

It took us TWO AND A HALF YEARS, and we dropped the price about 100k since we originally listed it, but we finally sold it. Now, ordinarily this might not seem like a big deal, BUT, last year, we bought a home that we fell in love with and we have been carrying two houses for well over a year now. Something had to give, and soon.

Just to give you an idea of what we went through to sell, here’s a bit of a background for you. We’ve had SIX contracts on the house that have all fallen apart for the following various, and (sometimes) incredibly ridiculous reasons:

Contract Number One: The buyer is unable to borrow the 80k she apparently needs to buy our house from her dad. She’s one of our neighbors and also has a house to sell. Oh yeah, and she forgot to sign the contract that our agent sent her.

Contract Number Two: The wife of the couple that’s trying to buy our house has a double stroke and slips into a coma two weeks before closing.

Contract Number Three: Buyer’s wife decides she wants a different house three weeks before closing and we end up going to court with them over the good faith deposit (we won).

Contract Number Four: Turns out to be a rather shady dude whose house is in foreclosure and who also tries to win our sympathy by telling us that had he not taken a smoke break when the first plane hit the tower, he would have been a fatality of 9/11. Really now, a much more compelling, yet believable story could have been told like that his wife left him and took everything in the divorce so she could complete her life long dream of herding goats somewhere in the Middle East. THAT would have been more believable to me, especially since I googled the guy and his website CLEARLY states he had his real estate business, HERE in this STATE that we both live in for more than thirteen years. How he could manage to lose every bit of his “business” in New York, but yet still run a “successful” real estate business here, is nothing short of confounding in nature. Needless to say, we walked away from him (perhaps ran would be a better choice) when he requested we do an off-the-books side deal that would get him an additional 15k in cash.

Contract Number Five: The buyers in this instance just couldn’t sell their house and the poor souls gave up trying. We know their pain…more than we care to admit.

Contract Number Six: The buyers love the house and then proceed to ask for enough money to fix EVERY little thing that came up in the home inspection. We ended up dickering, and dickering, and then finally, they got frustrated and walked.

Two months ago, we decided we would pull it off the market for a year and try to rent it out. As it turned out, our renters wanted to buy it. We closed last week.

This is a weight lifted off us like no other. Do you know what this means? Selling this house means we can now afford to buy shoes for the kids and maybe, just maybe some food other than the “five boxes of mac-n-cheese for five dollars” we’ve been feeding them. I’m kidding! It’s been tight, but not THAT tight. Seriously though, what this means is we can move forward on a bunch of projects we’ve been planning. Maybe fatten up our retirement funds a bit more and pay off the cars…who knows? It’s just nice to not have to send that extra check out every month.

On an end note, I don’t recommend at all the carrying of two homes at once unless you’ve either married into money or have a successful prostitution ring on the side that covers one of the mortgages. On the off-chance you don’t have either of those two options available, I strongly recommend waiting…until like, 2010 or so, when the housing slump is “supposed” to be over. Come on now, it’s only another two years…

An Interview by (a) Crazy Lady (in Vegas, of course)

2007-10-17T09:05:00.000-04:00

So, Kari (a.k.a Crazy Lady in Vegas) was doing this interview thing, wherein her friends asked her a bunch of questions, she answered them and posted them on her blog. I jumped in and wanted to play. She emailed me some questions to answer, and I started to...I really did, and them the life got sucked right out of me by some unforeseen events (surprise b-day party for my husband that I waited to the last minute to prepare for AND plan). Alas, I now have some time, so without further adieu, I bring you my interview with Kari!!!

How long was it from ‘the first date’ until the proposal of marriage?

It took my husband a mere three years to realize that he had, in fact, landed a gem. I mean, those less-than-stellar cooking skills! OH MY! The fact that the gene we like to call “domestic goddess” was totally bypassed on this one! WOW!!!

Don’t let him fool you, he knows he scored big with me.

What was your most embarrassing moment?

In general? My life is a constantly occurring embarrassing moment – I liken it to a freakish Merry-Go-Round. But, if I can only choose one…

The time I took my then 3 year old son into the bathroom with me at Sears so I could pee. As I was hovering over the toilet (you all know what hovering is), my son leaned over sideways and looked at me all confused before exclaiming, “MOM! YOU PEEING OUT YOU BUTTHOLE”. The snickering was endless from all stalls. I couldn’t wash my hands fast enough.

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

This one is tough. Some days, I really want to go back to Montana (it’s so CLEAN compared to a lot of places). Others, I don’t ever want to move…I just wish for the ability and money to travel anywhere, whenever I want to (oh, and the ability to leave the kids, whenever).

What do you do when you are feeling creative?

Sadly, most times, I attempt to clean the bottomless pit of despair we like to call home. Other times, I give my best shot at knitting scarves (two currently in progress) and making jewelry.

Its time to cook dinner for some VIP – What do you fix?

Macaroni et fromage – that’s French for “This is all I know how to cook. Suck it up and eat already.” It’s a very famous dish, I swear.

Breaking News

2007-10-02T15:46:00.000-04:00

NEW HAMPSHIRE – A brazen attack on a home here has authorities calling for a nationwide manhunt for the “Backwards Burglar”.

“I’ve never seen anything like this.” says Lead Investigator House Izzawickeddirty, “The perpetrator actually added stuff to this room with little to no concern as to what it would do to the child’s mother!”

Exhibit A - The Room

An apparently invisible burglar wore nearly every article of clothing and left it all in a heap on the child’s floor. “This is shocking to me, especially since I JUST DID HER LAUNDRY TWO DAYS AGO and I was assured by her that I had gotten it all!” cried the mother, who wishes to remain anonymous. In a bizarre turn of events, the burglar also crammed what authorities are referring to as “mountains of crapola” into the girl’s room AND into the mother’s craft room next door. “I just don’t know how we’ll recover!” the mother sobbed when speaking to reporters “I mean, I can’t possibly catch up on all this housework!”

Exhibit B - Some of the laundry in question

Exhibit C - More of the questionable laundry

Exhibit D - The Craft Room

Authorities are mum on what they believe to be the motive behind this unusual attack. "You don't typically see this type of job 'round these parts." says Izzawickeddirty "Usually, the crooks TAKE stuff away, they don't leave more. I'm just outright befuddled how something like this could've happened."

When questioned, the little girl whose room was attacked stated simply “I don’t know how it got this way…coulda been my brother, but then, it coulda been the aliens too…I just don’t know."

Exhibit E - The child

Even with little information from the child, authorities are confident they will catch their ~~kid~~ man. “We have our leads.” says Investigator Izzawickeddirty, “The crook left handprints on the windows and all down the stairwell. We’ll catch him!”

Exhibit F - Finger/handprints of the perpetrator(s)

Exhibit G - More prints left on the walls by the crook(s)

Anyone with information, or ideas on how to prevent this type of crime from ever occurring again is asked to call the House Crimes Hotline at 1-800-CLEANUP.

For Tanner...

2007-09-20T14:27:00.001-04:00

Kristen at Motherhood Uncensored is raffling off some VERY cool, VERY hot (as in mistakenly stolen) items to raise money for a very special little man named Tanner - the nephew of Her Bad Mother. Please pay her a visit, steal a duck button for your own blog (like the one I have to the right) and help raise money for a great cause!

Sarcasm = Bad Mommy

2007-09-19T19:19:00.000-04:00

One day last year, my daughter was acting as though she had been raised by a pack of beagles. She was loud, out of control and in general, all over the map. I looked over at her, rolled my eyes and said, "Child, you need to be medicated." She giggled, I smiled and she was distracted enough to calm down.

I dismissed ever saying that because in our house, sarcasm rules. If you were a stranger sitting in our kitchen and heard the conversations, you might be shocked and wonder why my husband and I ever got married (and procreated, for that matter). If you were a friend, you would laugh, because that's who we are.

If you are my daughter's teacher, you call me up to ask what particular medication my daughter needs to be on, and "why hasn't the school been notified that she needs to be medicated?"

HOLY CRAP. Try being the mom on that particular parental gem and tell me how you feel afterwards. When I heard the teacher ask me "why, why, why," I was stunned. It took me forever to figure out what on earth she was talking about. I asked her if she was sure she was calling the right parent. Her response? "Well, she was acting up a bit in class, which was unusual for her, so I asked her what was wrong with her. She looked at me and said that her mother told her she needed medication."

I had to explain to this teacher that I had made that particular comment on a particularly LOUD and UNRULY day for my daughter (who DOESN'T have a kid with days like that?), and while I shouldn't have said it, I truly didn't mean it - it was simply a flip remark. Nothing more.

"Well, here at this school, we don't joke about matters like this, we take them VERY seriously."

I wonder what they would have said if I had ever made the comment, "what are you smoking?" to my kids...which I haven't, and I swear I won't... ever. Well, at least not until they are 18, out of my house and can be held fully responsible in a court of law for anything they do. Because then? It won't make me look any worse as a mother than I did to that one teacher, that one day.

How was your summer?

2007-09-08T09:19:00.000-04:00

Mine was good. It dragged on and on endlessly like a professor I once had in college. I swear I could her the wind uttering "ummmmmm......" every day, just like he did. The only difference was back then, it put me to sleep (did I mention I sat in the front row?). This summer, it edged up my blood pressure.

We tried to do some fun things with the kids. We took them to an amusement park that was probably 1/25th the size of Disney, but the lines were nearly unbearable. I still think they had fun. Especially since one of them walked out of the park with a weiner hat, courtesy of their Dad. What kid's life isn't immediately bettered by the purchase of a weiner hat????

We took them to a water park which was more fun than I thought it would be. I went on one ride that should have been called "pee in your suit & puke at the end" because that is precisely what I felt like doing when it was over. The kids, they LOVED it.

Mostly though, what the kids did for fun was pepper me with questions (ALL.DAY.LONG) and fight with each other. "She knocked the sandwich out of my hand - and the doooooggggg ate it!". "He hit me in the head with a pillow and my eyyyyyyyyyeeeee hurtsssss!!!".

I can tell you there were many more days of fighting back and forth than there were of pure enjoyment. Wait, maybe they enjoyed the fighting? Or, maybe they enjoyed seeing my eyes bulge out of my head whenever they would sneak up on me and start tattling on each other. Yes, I think that's it. I couldn't ever find one location anywhere where I could get just five minutes of quiet. If I walked outside, there was always a child right behind me. If I was in the bathroom, there was a child knocking at the door.

I know, I know. It's called Stay-At-Home-Mom for a reason. Be a mom, right? I tried, I promise you I did. I think we all have those days that make us want to run screaming from the house. It just so happens that I had a LOT of those this past summer.

Now they are back in school (hooray!). And the only word I can come up with is this: bliss. It's been lovely. I have knitted like I have never knitted before (crooked scarves are IN, right?). I have nearly caught up on my laundry. I was on top of the dishes (until the kids made brownies using 17 different kitchen utensils, 2 pans, and 3 bowls - Betty Crocker, they are not). It is just so nice to have the house to myself. Multiple televisions are not screaming out Hannah Montana, World War III isn't occurring, there's no milk left on the counter, and I'm not finding wrappers all over the floor. I can get things done without having to chase anyone through the house to pick up after them.

I HEART SCHOOL. Mainly because now that they are back in school, I have my sanity back. I'm much more relaxed when they walk through the door now and I can handle their fights without feeling a coronary coming on.

And you....?

WANTED: Straight Jacket; preferably on the newer side without any drool stains.

2007-06-04T19:52:00.000-04:00

I'm officially losing it. Maybe I never had it? I'm having minor panic attacks just walking through the house. To outsiders, perhaps, the house itself might not look that dirty. To me, it looks like someone picked it up and shook it all around and then put it back down.

I'm in house HELL.

What has happened? I opened a drawer in the kitchen and all of a sudden, a dim bulb went on above my head. TIME TO REORGANIZE. Not just the drawer, the whole freaking house. I've got bins for this, and bins for that, trying to "keep like with like". Right-o. It's working like a charm.

I start in one area, then pass through another on my way to do something for the first area and something ENTIRELY different catches my eye, so I drop what I'm doing to focus on the new thing. ADHD much? About the only good thing to come of all this is that I think I've finally discovered some missing socks. There were 3 under my bed alone (thank you Bella), one hidden in a basket in the kids' cubbies, and a whole slew of dirty ones behind the dresser in my son's room. I have yet to locate the rest, but I think I've put a big dent in the 4,762 that were missing prior to this exercise.

I spent nearly an hour trying to avoid a simple throw-away task. I had 3 used gift bags that were still in pretty good condition just sitting on my desk. That irritating little voice in my head kept telling me to just keep them, you might use them someday. Someday??? How about never? Every single time I'm in need of a gift bag, I'm already on my way to a party anyway and have to stop to buy a gift, so I always, ALWAYS just buy the bag when I buy the gift. Wasteful, yes, I know. My family has a gene called "hoard" that I'm trying desperately to avoid. Hanging on to those three bags would surely wake that gene up from hibernate mode.

As I write, I've actually stopped "organizing" for fear of hyperventilating myself to death. I walk out of one room and into another and OH MY GOD! THE HORROR! Must get to work in here...NOW. Then I can't breathe...so I walk around aimlessly, trying to establish some sort of normal breathing pattern. It never works. Tears start to form and I walk away from the spot, completely discouraged.

Know what else? It never fails that once I get some small spot cleaned up and Felixed (READ: Odd Couple reference), there's a demon possessed child waiting right behind me. That child wreaks havoc on that one spot because it's fun, apparently, to make your mom cry and breathe heavily into a paper bag. What better way to get her out of the house and into a straight jacket?

Irritants

2007-05-29T20:19:00.000-04:00

Shirts inside of shirts. WHAT.IS.THE.DAMN.ISSUE????? Is the actual 2.5 seconds it takes to separate the clothes actually considered a waste of time? Why is this annoying habit seemingly an inherited trait? Did you train the boy to do it too, just to see what I would do?

Teachers who yell at my daughter to "stop limping" when she has a 3-inch long section of MULTIPLE layers of skin, missing from the bottom of her foot. You teach, therefore, you should be able to approximate the length of this gash (if you cannot approximate, think roughly along the lines of the length of a deck of playing cards). Because you teach, you should also be able to empathize with this child, knowing that such a gash, should it be placed on the bottom of your foot, will likely hurt like hell. If you absolutely are unable to imagine such a mishap befalling one such as yourself, please, come over to my house. I will gladly take my potato peeler to the bottom of your foot.

Dudes that like to look all "tough and shit", swinging their arms and screaming obscenities at their girlfriends while I'm peacefully driving by. Do you think after I honk my horn at you that I'm NOT going to stop 100 feet down the road when I see a police cruiser and tell them what your punk ass is up to? Oh yeah, and that was your kid in the car I presume? Nice example you're setting...ass hat.

Teenage employees at KFC talking to their friends in the middle of a busy time. No, I don't care if you chat it up with your friends. Yes, I do care if you discuss who you're sleeping with in a CROWDED restaurant. I was most impressed with the fact that you were able to make a sentence by stringing together the f-bomb (17 times) and some other small words and form a semi-coherent sentence. The nice 97 year old lady in front of me appreciated too...she started having a mild stroke after the 50th time you said what you did to that poor boy in the back of his car. I almost forgot to mention, all of the parents in the room that were oh-so-relieved that they didn't have to have the birds and the bees discussion with their children thanks to the way you so delicately described the act of sex for everyone to hear. Well done. You are marked for greatness my dear. In fact, you SO deserve a raise.

Laundry multiplies exponentially, yet socks seem to vanish at the exact moment I need to pack 8 pairs for my son's trip the very next day. Whoever thought this one up is extremely clever. I'd like to meet them...for a blanket party. I will bring the LEFTOVER socks that DO NOT HAVE A MATCH and fill them with the itty bitty chunks of bar soap that everyone usually leaves in the shower for me to pick up and replace with a full bar of soap. That oughta leave a mark, don't you agree?

My Review: The momAgenda

2007-05-22T08:52:00.000-04:00

For years now, I have relied on a Palm Pilot, then a Treo, and now a Cingular 8125 to try to keep me organized. It never worked. After "forgetting" about a few key appointments (ie - soccer practice and a game), I panicked, cursed myself out, and vowed to find a new way to stay on top of things.

For a lot of people keeping a digital agenda works, and works well. At my best, I had EVERYTHING in my phone. At my worst, I had my phone and 8,472 sticky notes with things I should put into my phone. Right here was where I should have realized that I would be better off writing things down instead of trying to find time to type them in. But no. I didn't do that; not even a little bit.

Enter a frantic web search for "agenda for mom". Up popped the momAgenda...I was hooked. I hemmed and hawed for over a week before finally deciding to buy one. It came with a momEssentials book, where you write in all of your VERY important, not-to-forget information, such as phone numbers, birthdays, and medical history information (for that not-so-nice moment when you decide to clock your husband with something that is extremely heavy; for instances such as these, you are prepared). My favorite part of it all though, is the agenda. It is LOVELY. The first few pages are the "month" pages...followed by the meat of it all, your weekly agenda. I LOVE THE WEEKLY AGENDA.

The weekly agenda is important here because it has your week running along the top, and four spaces underneath wherein you write in what your kids have going on. GENIUS!!! I can glance at one day and see what EVERYONE is doing. Even better? It has an extra space on the bottom for you to write in what you are planning to have for dinner each night.

Check it out:

Before you ask, yes, I stole this image from the site. My intentions are pure though, this is a great system for mothers (oh, and they offer an agenda that is for "everyone" in addition to different sizes and colors). And before you ask again, no, I haven't put my meals in my agenda...it would pretty much only say "Mac & Cheese" or "Chicken Nuggets" every day, so I figure, why bother? I will get to the point where I actually cook some sensible meals, but for now, my husband takes care of our meals, and I'm happy to let him do so.

If you're looking for a way to get a grip on your everyday life, this could be your answer. I HIGHLY recommend it. And? I did this review on my own. No one asked me to do this, I'm not getting paid for it. While my writing skills may not be as high as those of a "real" writer, I think that when I offer something from one mom to another and say it "KICKS ASS", that might just hold some weight with you people. Check it out, you might like it!

A big THANK YOU!

2007-05-22T08:34:00.000-04:00

Just a quick post to say thanks to EVERYONE who contributed to the MS Walk on my behalf. Our team actually beat (read: pummeled into the ground) our goal of $4,600! We couldn't have done that without your help, and it is SO very appreciated!!! Countless lives will be helped with your donations and I sincerely hope that you realize what a difference you have made.

THANK YOU!!!

A Cure

2007-03-28T18:53:00.000-04:00

My friend Amy and I go back a ways...a LONG ways. She's seen me at my worst, listened to my hysterics, and has been woman enough to tell me when I'm being stupid and paranoid. She's been my friend...for more than 10 years.

For as long as we've been friends and for a while before that, her mother has had MS. At first, it was just a known fact. If you knew Amy, then you knew her mother had MS. Then it became a harsh reality as we watched her mother slowly deteriorate. The thing about MS is that it robs you of your body. Your mind is completely intact and sharp while your body just stops working. Amy’s mom continued to work as long as she could and even became a source of inspiration for others suffering the same disease as she wrote articles and letters about her disease. She inspired me without even knowing that she had. I’ve watched her, over the years succumbing to this disease, and just not giving up. She found love while confined to her wheelchair knowing that she physically couldn’t wrap her arms around him, but also knowing that mentally giving everything she had was well worth it. She’s a true woman in my eyes; filled with enough love to make everything okay…even though she’s facing what she’s facing.

Here's some more brief but sobering facts about MS:

Over 400,000 Americans are currently living with MS, and someone is newly diagnosed every hour.
MS usually strikes between the ages of 20 to 50.
Two to three times as many women as men have MS.
Having multiple sclerosis means that you may not be able to walk when you wake up. Or that you may suddenly have impaired vision. Or that your memory will fail you for no apparent reason. The symptoms of MS are different, and devastating, for everyone.

For my friend Amy's mother, MS has meant going from walking, to walking with a cane, to being wheelchair bound. There's no doubt Amy will someday lose her mother, and it will be sooner than her mother's intended time to go. I can't even come close to imagining what Amy's life will be like without her mother there.

So, over the next few weeks, I will be trying various different ways to try to raise money for the MS Lifelines Walk in Portsmouth, NH. I am hoping to get some support from you all. The easiest way to contribute is to go to the official webpage of the team that my friend Amy is leading: National MS Society-NE Chapter. Our team is Wiggins’ Warriors. Named appropriately, for the fact that we are not only walking for Amy’s mother, but also for her Aunt, who has also been diagnosed with MS. She has not one, but TWO people in her life that are touched by this disease…TWO.

At the very least, I'm hoping that this post will inspire you to contribute - if not to this cause then to something equally as important. If we don't, as individuals, step up to try to make a difference because we assume someone else is already doing it, then we've become lazy, and our world is no better for it. Take a chance on a cause; a good and worthy cause and see how good it feels to make a difference in someone's life. You never know who's mother you can save :)

*Special thanks to Jenn at Mommy Needs Coffee for inspiring me to post this. She is currently supporting this cause as she has already lost her mother to MS. Check her out!!!

High Aspirations...

2007-02-27T10:07:00.000-05:00

Son: When I grow up, I wanna work at McDonald's.

Mom: Don't you think you'd be more capable than that?

Son: Yeah, but I'd get a discount on hamburgers and Happy Meals!

Mom: Uhhhh...Uncle Rick worked at McDonald's when he was in high school and he will never again eat there...does that say anything to you?

Son: I bet he wished he worked at Walmart instead!

Mom: Why is that?

Son: Because they pay like, 7 dollars an hour...that's a lot of money!

Mom: There's jobs that pay even more than that you know.

Daughter (finally waking up to join the conversation): Why're you picking Walmart? Target is so much better!

Son: Yeah right! They only pay like...minimum wage or something!

Mom: What's minimum wage?

Son: Like, 7 dollars an hour or something.

Abercrombie Wannabe

2007-02-16T12:24:00.000-05:00

I'll admit that I've actually forced my body to walk into an anorexic person's dream store - a.ka. Abercrombie & Fitch. Actually, I sort of forced hubby's body to walk in there too. We were on a quest to buy him some new duds, and that happened to include a couple of funny t-shirts. I knew this store had some that he might laugh at (as witnessed on other people's bodies), so we braved the looks of the super-model, super-thin staff, and had ourselves a look.

I should tell you that a store like this intimidates me. It does on many levels. First, I'm pretty sure that on the application for employment it asks you the following questions:

FOR FEMALES:

1) What size clothes do you wear? (If you answer other than sizes 0, 2 or 4, please discard this application and try working at our Plus Size stores.)

2) How many times a day do you throw up? (Maintenance of weight is of utmost importance; if you answer less than 1, please discard this application and try to get hired at the Food Court.)

3) Does your vocabulary include words such as: "like" "ohmygawd" or "haaawwt"? (Ability to communicate with our customers is key - we ask that if you cannot say these words in earnest, you discard this application and apply at the smoke shop here in the mall).

FOR MALES:

1) What size waist do you have? (If you answer larger than a 28, please discard this application and walk straight down the mall walkway and apply at the Big & Tall store.)

2) Do you have the ability to mutter words such as "hey" and "how'r you" while simultaneously sizing up the person you are speaking to AND fluttering sexy eyes? (If you answer other than yes here, we ask that you discard this application and proceed to the Computer Gaming Store to ask for an application. We assume that by answering No, you are already deeply embedded into the Geek culture.)

3) Do you consider yourself to be chiseled? (If no, just discard this application.)

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Second, I'm almost certain (at least in the store we've gone into) that if you walk in there and you are more than a size 4 as a female, or you are looking for a size large t-shirt as a male (because hey, you actually wear a large t-shirt) you will be SOL in finding ANYTHING that fits. Hubby held up a t-shirt that was a size large and said "I'm not into wearing tight clothes". Hmmmph. He was disappointed, and honestly, so was I.

Unfortunately, we cannot shop in that store. Hubby tried to find a pair of jeans in there that was NOT shredded to pieces, AND was his waist size; no dice. I tried on a size 6 and a size 8 pair of jeans and couldn't get my thighs into either pair. I have jeans that are a size 6 and a size 8 that do not come from here, and they fit perfectly! I think the Abercrombie execs sit there and come up with ways to keep what they consider to be Plus Size, out of their store. "Hmmmm....let's manufacture size 6 jeans, only, we need to make them smaller than an actual size 6. Let's face it folks, if a woman can't get into these jeans, she shouldn't be wearing our label."

Point well taken.

A heartfelt letter to the Tooth Fairy...and her response.

2007-01-24T22:41:00.000-05:00

Here is what the "Tooth Fairy" came across while in stealth mode to retrieve a tooth that is, after all, hers:

And her response? See for yourself...

GAWWWD...the Tooth Fairy is so bitchy lately, don't you think???

Merry Christmas

2006-12-06T09:44:00.000-05:00

I received this via email this morning and I thought it was too cute to just sit in my inbox!

Dear All,

My heartfelt appreciation goes out to all of you who have taken the time
and trouble to send me "forwards" over the past 12 months. Thank you
for making me feel safe, secure, blessed and Healthy.

Extra thanks to whoever sent me the email about rat crap in the glue on
envelopes - cause I now have to go get a wet towel every time I need to
seal an envelope.

Also, I scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason.
Because of your genuine concern, I no longer drink Coca Cola because I
know it can remove toilet stains, which is not exactly an appealing
characteristic.
I no longer check the coin return on pay phones because I could be
pricked with a needle infected with AIDS.

I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a
water buffalo on a hot day.

I no longer go to shopping centres because someone might drug me with
a perfume sample and rob me.

I no longer eat KFC because their "chickens" are actually horrible
mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers.

I no longer worry about my soul because at last count, I have 363,214
angels looking out for me.

Thanks to you, I have learned that God only answers my prayers if I
forward an e-mail to seven of my friends and make a wish within five
minutes.

I no longer have any savings because I gave it to a sick girl on the
internet who is about to die in the hospital (for the 1,387,258th
time).

I no longer have any money at all in fact - but that will change once I
receive the $15,000 that Microsoft and AOL are sending me for
participating in their special on-line email program.

Yes, I want to thank you all so much for looking out for me that I will
now return the favour! If you don't send this e-mail to at least
144,000 people in the next 7 minutes, a large pigeon with a wicked case
of diarrhea will land on your head at 5:00 PM (GMT) this afternoon. I
know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of my
next door neighbor's ex-mother-in-law's second husband's cousin's beautician.

Merry Christmas & Happy New Year

Patricia A. Massari, age 25

2006-09-11T03:00:00.000-04:00

Dear Patricia -

Today is the 5th anniversary of the day you were taken from this world too quickly. There are no words that can justify or explain your death, only sadness at what should have been.

You should have been able to finish the conversation with your husband about the baby you were going to have. You should have had time to hold a newborn in your arms and revel in the sheer joy of him/her. You should have had time to tell those you loved that you loved them - even if for the last time.

You should have had time to live...

I never knew you, but your picture makes me think of you as a someone with a ready smile, who could light up a room, simply by walking in to it. I also think of you as someone who not only gave great love, but that you also had it in return.

Today as I stand at the memorial service that is planned in honor of you, and the others that perished with you, I will think of you. I want you to know that contributing to this project has forever changed my life. In this sense, I want you to know that you did not die in vain. Writing to you and about you has made me realize that we all live on borrowed time. I cherish now, every moment I have with my children, all the while knowing that this is something that you were denied. I cherish my husband and let him know every day how much I love him - something I imagine you did as well, but this too, was taken from you. Your life has touched mine - and reshaped it so that I do not take for granted any of the things you and your family have been robbed of.

I thank you for bringing this change into my life.

Your family and friends who mourn and remember you now have suffered a tremendous loss. Your life was of an immeasurable importance. You cannot be replaced, and you will not be forgotten.

Patricia A. Massari, aged 25 of Glendale, NY was taken from the world on September 11, 2001.

The morning of her death, she had discovered that she and her husband of two years, Louis, would be expecting their first child together. After a bit of discussion and excitement, she left for her job as a capital analyst for Marsh & McLennan on the 98th floor of Tower One. That was the last time her husband saw her. He was on the phone with her when the first plane hit the tower, and heard her last words.

Remember Patricia…
if not for the fact that she died in the attacks of September 11, then for the fact that she will never be able to know the joys of raising her child with the husband that she loves. What was taken from her is something the rest of us are fortunate to have, but seldom give thanks for it.

She was a mother (to-be), she was one of us.

This tribute is part of the 2,996 Project. Please take some time to view the tributes to the other victims of 9/11.

Information for this tribute was found at: http://memorial.mmc.com/pgBio.asp?ID=174.

The Most Wonderful Time....

2006-08-22T21:16:00.000-04:00

So now that Staples has weaned me from their annoying commercials with the parents with the Easy Buttons that magically deliver all school supplies with one push, I have one thing to say...

I get it now.

I totally get it. I've seen these commercials 80,000 times or more, and I'd always just think it was because the parents liked back to school shopping as much as I did (I always smuggle in some new pens or some other organizational tool thingy with the kids' gear). This year, I know I'm wrong. This year I've actually spent an entire summer with my kids. I now know that the Staples commercials are really geared towards the parents who seriously cannot wait to send their kids back to school.

Perhaps it was the time my kids decided to have a HUGE fight over who got to push the buttons on the elevator? Or maybe it was the time they rode the skateboard down the driveway just far enough to jump off and watch it roll down into the road before it was demolished by a car? Nah, it had to be the time my son took a brand new bottle of soda, shook it up, and then opened it in my brand new car? Who knows...I am fairly certain that I am looking insanity directly in the eyes at this point.

It's sad to say, but I need them to go back to school. I really do. I loved the first part of my very first summer home with them, but it's time for them to go back and join the ranks of their fellow students. Definitely soon; definitely before they come up with some new ingenious plan - whether it be buffing the scratches out of the side of my car with a brillo pad because they like to "help", or just cleaning up by using bleach cleaner on my wood furniture...

To Crazy Lady in Vegas...

2006-08-22T21:11:00.000-04:00

I tried to leave a comment on your "Coming Out" post, but blogger kinda f'd it all up and so now I'm left with no other option...

I'm outing you on my blog, so my other two readers will then go to your site and see what the hell I'm talking about! (CLICK HERE TWO FAITHFUL READERS: Crazy Lady's Coming Out!)

All I wanted to say was "nice to meet you"... sigh....

My work for tonight is done.

I ROCKED out Y'all!

2006-08-10T10:18:00.000-04:00

Hubby took me to a Goo Goo Dolls / Counting Crows concert Monday night. We had VIP passes, and one of the women my hubby works with got us backstage to meet the Goo Goo Dolls themselves!!!

Here's my proof...

I'll admit, when I first started sending this picture out to my friends, I jokingly put in the email that Johnny Resnick was patting my behind. That was until my hubby looked and said, "you know...looking at that picture it could look like he was!" Now I don't say that anymore for fear of causing Johnny Resnick (who IS so much hotter in person that you could fry eggs on his tight little belly) unneccessary nightmares from the mere thought that he may have touched moi inappropriately. I'll just settle with the evidence that I, a mama wannabe, got to meet someone famous and was close enough to smell him, and close enough to THINK for a moment, about licking him.

What I've Learned While Staying Home

2006-07-27T07:52:00.000-04:00

Here are some things I've discovered these past few months in my transformation from mundane 9-to-fiver into the fabulous undomestic goddess wannabe I currently am:

1. There actually is a limit to the number of times you can serve your children macaroni and cheese and frozen chicken nuggets. Even if the macaroni and cheese is Kraft.

2. Your house smells a lot better when you clean the toilets regularly as opposed to "when they look like they need it".

3. Soccer Moms do exist. Soccer Moms come in various shapes and sizes and some of them were planted here straight off the set of "Stepford Wives" in order to make newbie stay-at-home-moms feel even more inferior than they already felt.

4. It is impossible for a stay-at-home-mom to sleep in. Sleep is a naughty 5 letter word that SAHM's apparently aren't allowed to use, mumble, or otherwise act upon....AT ALL.

5. It's true that when you stay home, your house sometimes turns into a daycare. Complete with unruly children with very bad attitudes and haircuts to match.

6. It's also true that the arrival of the new "daycare kids" coincides with the amazing disappearance act of every stitch of food in your pantry.

7. It can also be said that other people's children can drive you to the brink of insanity. Which, honestly, makes it hard for you to drive ANYWHERE with these other people because you are feeling this intense need to "drive" them where their children have taken you. (NOTE: In these situations, it's best to keep both hands at your sides; refrain from grabbing the steering wheel).

8. The demand for late night activities with ones husband increases. This happens because the husband inevitably feels that since you are at home now, you are more relaxed (ie - you don't really do ALL that much during the day now, do you?). When you are more relaxed, you probably find your husband more attractive. I'm going to liken this phenomenon to chain vomiting. You know, one person throws up, another sees them and throws up, and it just goes on and on and on.

9. There are books to help those who cannot seem to run a house as efficiently as June Cleaver. Seriously, there are books!!!

10. There are also books on how to cook, yet another area of domesticity I haven't mastered, unless you count my unrivaled mastery of cooking Kraft Macaroni and Cheese while simultaneously baking cheesy chicken nuggets in the oven. Oh yeah, I make mean cereal too.

11. When you buy a minivan because you need to have more room to chauffeur around your own two kids and two dogs, apparently, this tells the world that you have room for their kids too. You've now become a bus driver without the ability to charge any money at all for the ride, and without the swanky drivers cap.

12. It is impossible to give up the vision of being a perfect mom when you stay home. Even after finding out that the perfect mom down the street attends swingers conventions and goes by the screen name "ScreaminGenie", you still hold tight to the dream of everyone on the face of the earth marveling at what a wonderful job you've done raising your kids, and, "Oh my! LOOK at how clean her house is!" Yeah, that's so not happening here...but, there's always tomorrow :)

okay, so now I'm REALLY back!!!

2006-07-10T21:49:00.000-04:00

I've missed my bloggy friends :) Just a quick update, we moved to a new house - though our old one hasn't sold yet (crap). We took a week to settle in, and had some major problems with internet and phone that are hopefully fixed now. We will see though. I will post about the triumphs and tragedies that occur when one moves soon. For now, I would like to make a simple request that we all lend a small round of applause to Metrocast for finally getting us hooked up again.

Apparently, the new house had old connectors on the coaxial cable that schmeared our signal all to crap and made it so I couldn't even take a peek at everyone's blogs to see what they've been up to. The connection would be fine, and then I would start to think about visiting one of y'all, and it was like the grand internet barfed all over me then rolled over to take a nap without so much as an "I love you". I've been in hell everyone, and I've made it back to share the story. I've got loads to share - "How NOT to fill out too many Change of Address Forms (a.k.a - How NOT to get ANY mail - Even VERY Important Checks)", "How to Lose a Dog at a New House - Errr...Scratch that...TWO FRICKEN' DOGS", and my personal favorite "How Moving Companies Make All That Cash, 'Cuz Honestly, They're Loaded After What They Charged Us".

I've a feeling I've lost some of you along the way, so here's my apology for going MIA during a critical season of Mommydom - summer break. I miss you all and hope that I will hear from you soon!!!!

So, fill me in on what's new...leave some comments!!!! Please!!!!

Just got back...

2006-06-01T21:26:00.000-04:00

I've been busy, and I've been gone...sorry friends :)

We just got back from Niagara Falls on Monday, and I've been going, going, going ever since we got back. I'll write more and post some pictures later - if y'all are interested!

Noah wuz here...

2006-05-16T20:00:00.000-04:00

and frankly, he was a little miffed that trucks didn't stop for him like this -

So he put up a sign to make sure EVERYONE knew he was here -

Meanwhile, Satan was getting tired of listening to the masses trample on the ground above his head, straining to get a look at the damn dam that was going to burst, so he installed a direct pathway to hell.

Because hey, if you aren't on the Ark, you're quite obviously late for your appointment in H-E-double hockeysticks.

**Yes, these are actual pictures taken today. The first one was a guy that tried to drive across a road that was clearly posted as closed. The second one, I took on my way to Dover this morning, and the third one I took because I was told that a billion people were standing there yesterday, taking pictures of the dam because it was so close to bursting (it didn't). They were actually taking pictures of their kids in that very spot because something like this only happens once a century. They crawled through the BRIGHT YELLOW "DO NOT CROSS" TAPE to take their pictures! Today, there was a lovely sinkhole where they had been. They are lucky that they didn't fall through yesterday!

Apparently, I'm an ANGRY mom...

2006-05-16T07:35:00.000-04:00

This is the card I received for Mother's Day from my daughter. While I appreciated all the time she took coloring, I was alarmed at the words that the creative process that is making a mother's day card for your mom at school, churned out.

Take a look -

Here's the breakdown:

Left Side -

Lovely Mom (awwww...I think ALL daughters think that!)
Organized (YESSSSSSSS!)
Very Angry (here we go! ALL ABOARD THE ANGER TRAIN!)
Egeer (translation: eager...to go to anger management classes, perhaps?)

Right Side -

Mi real Mom (translation: My Real Mom - apparently she didn't believe me when I told her the stork dropped her off).
Open to suggestions (as in, "I don't think we should have to have chores Mom"?)
Totally Cool (Rock ON!!!)
Have Love (akin to Got Milk?)
Exiting (she says it means exciting, but really I think she's pushing me out the door for my uncontrolled, yet unapparent to me, anger)
Really Beautiful (she's got the sucking up down to a science!)
So Cool (Being that she just discovered that I am her real mother, I would say I would have to be cool!)

Dilly Daling (translation: Dilly-dallying. How the hell did she know that I surf the web all day?)
Angry well some times (here we go AGAIN! I'm sensing a theme here, perhaps I should look into counseling?)
Your a awsome mom (I think you get what this means - I'm an awesome, anger-filled mother!)

*******************************************************************************

Now, I'm confused by this card on so many levels. Does she really think I'm angry all the time? Or, was she lost when it came to locating a word that started with an "A"? OR...could it be that she's already figured out how to take the sting out of not-so-nice words by surrounding them with compliments ("your a awsome mom")???

I confess that our house is not a quiet one. We are a vocal family. Discipline is doled out in stern, loud voices. Anger though, doesn't hover around for long. This is why I'm confused about the double appearance of the word in my daughter's card.

So, either she thinks I've an anger problem, or I'm just your run-of-the-mill, eagerly organized, beautifully cool mom who is exiting the house to dilly dally with the suggestions of my children that make me angry...well, sometimes.

Anyone have a canoe I can borrow?

2006-05-14T19:56:00.000-04:00

Even a kayak or a small fishing boat might work for me. It would be super too, if you could include the paddles as I don't have any of those. What would actually really work for me though, is one of those nifty paddle boats so that my whole family can partake in the fun.

See, where I live, some of the roads look like this picture, taken today in NH:

Nice huh? AND, just so you know the reasoning behind my request for an aquatic vessel of any shape or form, I had to leave my car at my friend’s house because her driveway got washed out in all of this rain that New England is currently experiencing. When we tried to leave my friend’s house last night, the end of her driveway was nothing but a 3 foot wide ditch. So, rather than try to jump the ditch Dukes of Hazzard style, we opted to stay put. The town had trucks out working on the roads so we figured that we would be all set to leave in the morning. NOT SO. When we woke up this morning, the ditch was an awesome FIVE feet wide, and three feet deep. We called upon my husband’s father to come and pick us up, which he did, but not before we had to cross the ditch.

Even better than being stranded without the benefit of Survivor-esque vote-off’s, is that while the husband, who is a nice and rugged 6+ feet tall, and the kids, who scale tall buildings in a single bound - can cross the five foot ditch no-problemo, the mom who totes an egregiously large purse (I tell everyone it’s a “day-bag”) laden with so much girly crap that it weighs 50 pounds – cannot. Oh, and did I fail to mention that I was wearing cowboy boots? Ones without any tread on them and made of a nice, soft brown leather that has a tendency to get ruined when wet. Do you think anyone offered to help me out of the ditch while the water ran over my feet? Nope. Happy Mother’s Day to you! Phooey.

Those boots were my favorite. Services will be held tomorrow at the Church of the Holy High Heels. Please wear your rain gear, I don’t think it’s going to stop raining anytime soon. Oh, and don’t forget your paddles – I don’t know when I’ll get my car back!

Sweden!!! Flipping Tokyo?!!!!!

2006-05-11T06:44:00.000-04:00

So, I was nosey, errr curious about who was visiting my site. I installed a stat counter last night out of sheer vanity, just to see. Within 30 minutes, my new "friend" counter told me I had 3 visitors. 3 VISITORS, IN 30 MINUTES!!! I was ecstatic, furiously writing acceptance speeches for the various awards I was to receive. I mean, surely, 3 visitors in 30 minutes correlated to at least 144 visitors per day! While I was putting on my crown, my husband looked at my stats. He kindly informed me that while I did in fact have 3 visitors, the real truth was that the 3 visitors were: me, me, and me.

I deleted my acceptance speeches, and closed the cover to my laptop. I went to bed thinking this would be funny to blog about. When I woke up this morning, I checked my blog stats again. I had 3 more visitors last night! Before you ask, none of them were me. One was Blog Explosion, checking out my site to see if it would be accepted (it was), one was from Sweden - landing by way of a google search - and I'm VERY interested to know who that is, so if you are reading this, drop a girl a comment and tell me who you are! I then saw one from Tokyo---it was somehow from/through my new pal crazyladyinvegas. I'm not sure how that happened, being that her name pretty much tells you that she's in Vegas - I'm guessing it's because I posted on her site and they followed that link? She is a visitor though, and dammit, I love her for pumping up my stats!

Let's just say I'm excited about this whole stat counter thing. You never know what kind of visitor you are going to get, or where they're from. Yet another thing to keep you online all night!

Sometimes, they make you forget that they just crapped on your shoe...

2006-05-09T21:36:00.000-04:00

Hoochie Puppy waiting for a date....

Secret Agent Dog Hailey wearing the latest of her disguises. She's hot on the trail of some rogue bees...

My name is Bella. I'm 15 weeks old. I like long walks on the beach, licking my own butt, and chewing the hell out of anything that resembles wood or insect. I'm looking for some companionship and loyalty for life. Only dogs that have been ungendered will be considered for meeting - serious requests only and must bring mini-bones.

Top 10 things to think about BEFORE getting a puppy...

2006-05-08T19:59:00.000-04:00

10. "Getting a puppy might take your mind off having that additional child" (In case you were wondering, this was my reasoning. I'm convinced I need therapy). The cold hard reality is that it IS JUST LIKE HAVING ANOTHER CHILD. One that poops E-V-E-R-Y-W-H-E-R-E and pees indiscriminately. See that nice rug? Yeah, there's dog pee all over that.

9. Sleep? Fuggedahboudit. You are now the proud owner of a dog that will whine incessantly until it falls asleep, only to wake up about 4 hours later to take it outside to do it's business. It's like breastfeeding all over again, without the benefit of bonding.

8. Want the dog to be yours all yours? Get one the exact opposite sex that you are. Girl dogs love their male homo sapiens, in fact, they make out with them constantly (once I can catch my hubby on the digital doing this, I will post proof).

7. If you already have a dog in the house, I urge you to be 100% sure you want to bring another pup into the mix. Otherwise, be prepared for endless yapping, biting, nipping and horseplay between the new "siblings". Oh yeah, and it's LOUD yapping too, with lots of growling on the side.

6. To accompany #7, I am forced to introduce you to the world of dog humping. No, it's not something you just see on television. It happens. At first, my older dog Hailey would occasionally do it to my husband, if she hadn't seen him in while. Since the introduction of the new puppy, it happens A LOT now. I'm told it's a dominance thing. I think not. I am convinced that the increase in frequency of her hump-fests have little to do with dominance. I think that she's playing with chew toys on the other side of the fence, if you know what I mean. I don't think Hailey's gay, I think she's bi-curious. In the dog world, the other side of the fence is the human race - and Hailey wants her some of that. Basically, I'm alerting you to this fact should you decide to bring a puppy into a house that is otherwise occupied by another dog filled with sexual angst. It's something to think about, no?

5. Did I mention the sheer amount of paper towels you will need? Buy stock in Bounty, or some other super absorbent brand. That way, when it's 4 in the morning and your bare feet just slid across the floor on some cold pee, you have enough paper towels on hand so you can easily reach some to clean up the mess (I have yet to step in poo; when that happens, I will edit this post).

4. Piss and Poo. Lots of it. 'Nuff said there.

3. To go along with the overabundance of pee & poo items I have, I just want you to be prepared for the smell. You think that you can handle picking up crap that crawled out of a dog's bum, because, hey, you wiped your kids' bums for YEEEAARS and never dry-heaved once. This is a whole 'nother party, with all different smells. Smells that will overpower, overwhelm and put a pasture full of cow turd to shame. Don't say I didn't warn you on this.

2. More that will make you yak? Puppies eat anything they can put their little sharp-toothed mouths on. This includes ants (which, I will admit, is quite comical to watch as the ants are sometimes smarter - if you can imagine - than the puppy), worms, and the coup de grace - fricken HUGE beetles. I thought I'd seen the worst when I watched Bella run away from me with a worm dangling from her little snout, but nope. Today she tackled a beetle as big as her nose, and chewed it long enough for me to run into town and back (I didn't really run into town, I'm just using that to show you time frame). Apparently, beetles are chewy.

Oh yeah, and puppies have a penchant for shoes, and also socks that are still on your feet. Puppy teeth hurt. I told you in advance, it's your fault if you forget this.

1. This is the one that turned my stomach for days. It may or may not happen to you. I put it out here for your review and consideration...just in case. As I said in #2, puppies eat everything - that does include hair. To provide you with a lesson in digestion, here's somewhat of an algebraic equation:

puppies + swallowed hair = puppy chasing it's own ass around because it has a hair hanging out of it's butthole

This also equals you pulling out the offending hair from said butthole. This equation holds true for other lengthy materials that your puppy might ingest such as string and shoelaces. While the latter hasn't occurred in my house yet, I threw it out there to educate the public on the dangers. Because really, who wants to pull something out of a dogs bum anyway?

So, this is why I haven't been here...

2006-04-25T10:19:00.000-04:00

This little furball was given to me for my birthday (errr...my birthday for the next 5 years to be exact) by my husband. She is supposed to keep me occupied while my kids are at school, thereby further justifying my existance as a SAHM. Our other furbaby, Hailey, has taken on the role of big sister/doggy mama and loves to chew on our new little Bella as much as possible (NO, she doesn't hurt her!!!). And just so you know, my life is now completely chaotic and filled with numerous paper towel mop-ups (puppy training is a pisser) and chasing a schizophrenic pup with a sock/shoe/underwear/stuffed animal in her mouth. Sorry for the short AND delayed post, but I wanted to let everyone know that this is why I haven't been here in a while :)

Mamma needs to get her eyebrows done...

2006-04-05T11:18:00.000-04:00

because she looks like this -

and she's scaring her entire family away!!!

I've been tagged!!!

2006-03-27T12:44:00.000-05:00

Thanks to Stephanie for tagging me for the very first time :) I could go off on a song-related tangent here, but I won't. Here goes:

Accent - Does New England have it's own accent??? I'm in NH, so the accents can vary. NO, I do not say things like "cah" for car, or "bah" for bar. I'm actually a big fan of the R. I guess I don't fit in well in NH.
Booze of choice - Beer. I know, I'm more worldly than you thought!
Chore I hate - Cleaning pee (just posted about it)
Dog or Cat - One dog - Hailey. She's a lovey and she REALLY loves my hubby.
Essential electronics - Laptop with internet. Treadmill. - good ones from Stephanie - I'm going to take those and add my iPod and Treo phone...can't live without them!
Favorite perfume(s)/cologne(s) - Modern by Banana Republis
Gold or Silver? - silver, but my wedding rings are gold
Hometown - Born in Columbus, Montana; pretty much raised in NH
Insomnia? - Nope. More prone to cataplexy attacks.
Job Title - SAHM works for now...I'll add more to the title as time goes on :)
Kids? - Pooh and Bean (son and daughter)
Living Arrangement - 3 bdrm. colonial that we can't seem to sell
Most admired trait - I have a knack for saying the wrong thing...to EVERYONE.
Number of Sexual Partners - Currently or ever? (heh, I like the mystery this answer implies)
Overnight Hospital Stays - 3 - one for each kid, and an extra one when I thought I was in back labor at 6 months (I wasn't)
Phobia - 1) losing my children 2) being alone
Quote - I'm not famous enough to have one of these
Religion - Christian
Siblings - 1 brother; 2 SIL's that I adore
Time I wake up - when the bus shows up (inevitable)
Unusual talent/skill - I can burn water
Vegetable I refuse to eat - I have yet to meet a veggie I don't like.
Worst habit - smoking. I know, I KNOW!
X-rays - have I had some? Yep.
Yummy foods I make - does boxed mac-n-cheese count?
Zodiac sign - Aries

Remember, if you don't like my answers...just blog your own.
Tagees of choice: I don't really have anyone to tag just yet. C'mon people...just do it yourselves! Oh...and let me know about it!

To the men in my house...

2006-03-22T16:19:00.000-05:00

Dear Pissers:

Today, while cleaning the home that you occupy (with me), I had the immeasurably pleasurable task of cleaning up your pee.

While I enjoy my newfound job as the "Chief Cook & Bottlewasher/Chauffer/Laundry Do-er", I do NOT, repeat, DO NOT have a fondness for scrubbing your pee from every surface of every toilet in this house. I feel there are some things you need to be made aware of:

1 - As a male, you have a built-in, God-installed pee-pointer. This means, you direct your pointer where the pee needs to go. Try aiming it, and 9 times out of 10, it will go where it is supposed to.

2 - If for some reason, you feel the need to "shake" your pointer to remove excess pee, DON'T. I do not care to find your droplets on my wall, on the floor, or any other location in the bathroom other than inside the BOWL of the toilet. It's called toilet paper - use some.

3 - Do not dance, pretend you are a member of House of Pain (a la Jump Around) practice your jumpshot, or otherwise MOVE at all while peeing. Again, seeing your pee on my walls is not something that makes me smile.

4 - One of the inherent differences between women and men happens to be the "sit vs. stand" factor. In case you were unaware, you stand, I sit. As such, I do not want to sit on the rim of the toilet, I want to use the part of it that I'm meant to - the seat! The next time you leave the seat up for me, I promise you, I will place your head in the bowl, and lovingly apply the most violent swirley known to mankind.

5 - To expand upon #4, also be aware that because you stand, you should lift up the seat so as to widen the circle you point your pipper to. When you choose not to lift said seat, the odds of you pissing on my seat increase from 0 to 100% in no time at all. With this in mind, let me introduce a sub-section of instructions for you to follow:

a) lift seat
b) commence piss disbursement
c) put seat back into position you found it
d) WASH YOUR FLIPPING HANDS! (Another irritant I will discuss with you later)

6 - At this time, I also feel the need to direct your attention to the fact that I realize you are all capable of performing #2 on your own (NOT rule #2, the actual #2, wherein you smell up the house). I realize that because you are capable of this, I KNOW you are also knowledgeable enough to replace a roll of toilet paper - CORRECTLY. I am not picky about whether or not the roll faces upward or downward, just as long as you actually place a roll where it's supposed to go. There is nothing worse than to be a woman rushing around, finding those few extra seconds to pee, only to look over and see that there is not even a smidge of TP to be used. While you may find it funny to picture your mother/wife shuffling to the closet to locate an MIA roll of TP with her pants around her ankles, I assure you, it is anyting but (no pun intended).

Lastly, in the interest of gender equality, I do hereby agree to pick up the teeny-tiny pieces of feminine hygiene product wrappers that inadvertantly miss the wastebasket. I also agree to put away the miscellaneous boxes of the above mentioned products so as not to embarass you when you are meeting with other groups of unreformed pissers in this house.

Oh, and one more thing: failure to comply with my simple requests will result in the complete nullification of what I said in the previous paragraph AS WELL AS the horrifying chance that I will no longer feel the need to wash your undergarments. Oh sure, I'll pick them up from your floor, or where ever else you leave them, and I'll place them near the washer - just to give you the sense I'm doing you a favor. BUT, when you are not looking, I will don my yellow plastic cleaning gloves, carefully fold your underroos, and place them back into your dressers, dirty as they are. You may just end up being the smelly kid at school/work after all. Carefully consider your options here...

Thank you for what I assume will be your prompt adherence to these guidelines.

Love,

Mama

"F**ker"

2006-03-19T11:28:00.000-05:00

A typical rite of passage into adulthood is often the ability to swear/curse without repercussion. My daughter has skipped puberty and has lauched herself directly into adulthood at the tender age of 7.

Apparently, she was trying to say two different words while talking on the bus, and "Fucker" came out. Older brother got wind of the potential punishment factor, and ran straight off the bus to his father to inform him that his sister needed to be punished for skipping puberty and becoming an adult. Oh yeah, and for saying the "F-word with 'er' on the end of it". No, my son did not repeat the forbidden utterance, he worded it carefully so he could avoid growing up and having to obtain employment. His sister, on the other hand, came clean (while sobbing):

"I was on the bus today and I was talking to so-and-so and I was trying to tell them something and I don't know what happened but I said FUCKER and T (older brother) and his friend heard me and they said they were going to tell on me and I'm so sorry mommy I didn't mean to say FUCKER, it just came out of my mouth. I wasn't trying to say FUCKER mom, I really wasn't, I promise. Please don't be mad that I said that word mom, that word FUCKER!"

In case you were counting (as I was while hearing this), she did, in fact, drop the F-bomb with 'er' on the end of it at least four times in that breathless sob-filled paragraph. Half of me is debating on whether or not she meant to say it simply because she was sobbing while recounting her brush with adulthood. The other half is screaming, "She's pulling a fast one! She said the dreaded word FOUR FLIPPING TIMES while telling you about it! She looooooves that she can say it now and KNOWS that she's not getting into trouble!"

Fortunately for her, I did not feel compelled, what with her sudden adult-like actions, to boot her from the house for her wretchedness. O - no. I had to keep from laughing and/or smiling and put on my best stern-mama face and tell her under no circumstances, even in the course of repeating that story, should she use that word ever again.

No, mama isn't mad. Mama is sitting her wondering how many times she calls people that name while in earshot of her kids. This HAS to be my fault. Damn. I was so looking forward to that Mother-of-the-Year award.