Saturday, December 27, 2008

How to be a firecracker.

1. If you are not so lucky blessed to ever go see strippers, walk up to one and ask them if their crabs have herpes. It could possibly get your thrown out which in my humble opinion would be a good thing or if you can stay for the rest of the show, you will not get another lap dance.

2. Whenever you see a man wearing plaid, flannel or wranglers, yell across the room, store, bar "Cowboy Up!" For some crazy reason, some cowboys don't like this. Beats me. They do however love it when you yell "Wrangler butts make me nuts."

3. Walk into Target and yell "Walmart Rocks!" (even if Walmart so does not rock.) Target people are pretty dedicated to their store and will get disgruntled about this. Don't worry. They are working and cannot ream your ass for yelling this.

4. If you are at a bar, and a toothless man is trying to make out with you, hand them some Chiclets and ask them to put them in as replacement teeth. And for added insult, say "They will not only give you make shift teeth to replace your missing ones they will also double for a breath mint for your stank ass breath."

5. Wake up in the morning and do a beat down on your sleeping husband. If they are coherent enough afterwards or you didn't put them in a coma, tell them you are sorry for the beaten but you had a dream he cheated on you. Even if you didn't dream that, you can get some repressed anger out with an excuse. Seriously, I am not the only one who has urges to hit their husband am I?

6. If you don't like your snooty neighbors, have a kick ass party, go knock on their door when there is already a few hundred cars outside and instead of asking them to join the party, ask them if your rowdy friends can park in their driveway. It's like a knife in the heart.

7. Ask your doctor for a prostate exam. (Hint. Only if you are a woman because woman don't have prostates. I know this because I had to WebMD it. But if you are a man, and you say this, the doctor may stick his thumb up your ass.) (On a serious should be getting prostate exams because it could save your life. So. Go get a finger job. It is worth it. And I don't think they use their thumb. You can request the pinky.)

8. Super glue a quarter to your local Walmart's floor. Laugh out loud when people try to pick it up but cannot.

9. Take a bucket of water and pour it on your worst enemies sidewalk on a blistering cold day. Then get your video camera ready when they exit the house. Remember, only do this to your enemies. Revenge is sweet my friends.

10. Fart a little and deny it.

Friday, December 26, 2008

I survived.

Christmas. Done. Almost. One more family Christmas to go.

New Year's Eve. I'm getting trashed. For real. The vomit in my lap kind of trashed too.

Today I am being lazy and being a bum, bum, bum, buuummm.......(Sing to Little Drummer Boy to get the real effects of this.)

I could return a gazillion items that ironically never worked in the first place but that means I would increase my blood pressure and probably have one to many anxiety attacks dealing with the rejects out on the streets attempting to drive in a coma or deal with the geeks inside of Sears or Target running over my toes. There is no amount of happy pills to help with that chaos. No.Thank.You. Hmmpppfff.

I could attempt to learn photo shop better and turn all my RAW pictures into Jpeg's but hell...that would demand my brain to work and it is complete slush right now. Not.Happening. This is why I married a computer guru. He can attempt this task or he will be doing a hefty amount of laundry instead.

I could brace myself and enter the disaster zone that my child calls her bedroom and either dump everything into a garbage bin or just start it on fire. Seriously, the other day my brat was actually cleaning it and found a rotted old egg sandwich. She tried to feed it to the dog to erase all evidence but confessed once the poor dog puked it up from the bottom of it's gut. She couldn't lie anymore. After having a few hundred breaths to control my anger I realized that she is not in control of her room any longer and I will return to cleaning it. She has been grounded from a few hundred things now. Gah.

I could try to tackle the mound of laundry that is going to walk itself to the washing machine soon so my hubby can have socks to wear to the basement where he insists he works but I have serious doubts work. Nah. He has slippers.

I could go get a massage Not happening sista's. I have sort of spent my life savings and my child's college tuition on Christmas gifts this year.

I could blog. Oh wait. I am. Ha.

I did survive the sadness that comes with losing a loved one right before the holidays. We all survived. My husband is sad and misses his dad a ton. My daughter is still having troubles talking about him without big alligator tears rolling down her sweet face. I am still crying when need be. Golly we miss that old fool. But. We survived with heavy hearts.

We were all spoiled rotten once again for Christmas. My daughter is definitely not hurting for a damn thing. Sadly. She doesn't get to play with anything until she learns to clean her room. Can I get a woo-hoo from all the mom's who stick to their guns?

I am pretty pumped about getting shit-faced for New Years Eve. Oh yeah. I will probably show my tits a few hundred times. This is sort of a tradition when I get toasted. Hopefully I won't be cold and somebody will not lose their eye.

I truly hope you all had a terrific Christmas as well and that you cherish you moments with your loved ones. And if you are grieving over a loved one as well.....hold on to your faith and your memories. I love you and you and you.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

I Quit.

O yeah. I quit. I am done arguing. I am done fighting. I am done repeating myself over and over.

Tonight, after I told my daughter repeatedly to eat her supper so we can go see a movie, I finally blew a plug. Instead of yelling or throwing out ultimatums I told her to do whatever she wanted. If her supper was not consumed or the dishes were not stacked in the dishwasher on time then we just wouldn't go. I slowly ate my supper, put my dishes in the dishwasher and walked into my room. I knew I couldn't hold my tongue and I knew I would eventually cave and yell "Hurry the hell up" so I laid in my bedroom trying to meditate to lower my blood pressure.

Five minutes later my daughter bursts into the room with her shoes on and by a small miracle even had her coat on. She cleaned up after herself and was anxiously awaiting me by the door.

I couldn't believe it actually worked. I felt empowered. I can do this mom thing after all. The past few months I have doubted my parenting skills as my daughter has challenged me with a multitude of different antics. The worst being late all the time, constantly needing harassed. I cannot stand being late. I find it terribly rude and uncalled for. And then my daughter, the watermelon with shoulders that I tried to push out of my vagina but ended up being ripped from my womb, is always.always.ALWAYS late. Woe is me. I have grounded her, yelled at her, took things from her, jumped up in down in a fit of rage in front of her and I have shed many crocodile tears because of her. And every single thing has failed. Miserably.

Until today. I always knew that allowing children to make their own mistakes and therefore having their own consequences worked but that mother needs to have patience, tolerance and in my humble opinion, needs to be freaking Mother Theresa to achieve this sort of discipline. I know I am a pathetic loseramazing but I am no saint....yet. But dammmnnnn....I proved that I do have a wee bit of patience left.

So. I praised her, loved up on her and was ridiculously excited that we would make it to the show on time....for once.

Until I saw my husband sitting on the couch, clearly not ready to go.

We were, as always, 10minutes late for the show.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Because I have nothing else.

Because I have nothing positive to write unless you want me to moan and groan about how much I hate South Dakota weather, I am going to tell you some more facts about me. Oh stop. No need for the applause. Stop it. I can hear you hooting and hollering. Really. You guys should get a life. Just saying that nobody should be that excited about me. Come on now. Settle down.

Oh alright. I will come back to reality now. It was a nice dream though. Thank you for that much.

Ahem. And the top 10 things you should know about me this week are:

1. I think Mark Ballas, the pro from my all time favorite Reason for living Dancing with the Stars a hottie and I would totally bump uglies with him. Except he doesn't have the uglies. I do. So. That sucks.

2. I also think my little heart throb Zac Efron is a gift from God for all of us women to drool look at. Oh. He is some good eye candy.

3. I have recently taught myself to crochet. It's too bad the Afghan that I am making is turning out to be a blanket for a mouse but that is bygones. I really need to learn how to do corners though.

4. I got a pedicure this weekend with a friend and the guy who did my pedicure was flirting with me something fierce. Well. I believe he was flirting with me. I couldn't understand a damn word he said as he is from China (or Vietnam). But it was in his eyes people.

5. I also got really paranoid when he was talking to his mom (whom owns the spa). I'm sure they said something about my feet looking like a crusty ole' scouring pad. I haven't used my PediEgg in a few weeks. I've been busy crocheting and drooling over young pups.

6. I also haven't had time to pluck those pesky whiskers growing on my chiny, chin, chin. That is my plan for this Sunday day.

7. I love watching "How clean is your house." They are two British ladies who shake their wrinkled fingers at dirty people and their nasty houses. Some people are freaking gross man. Ick. But it always makes me feel really good about my own housekeeping.

8. I also love, love, love watching "House Hunters." No reason for this. Just do.

(p.s. I am not linking anything today because I am a lazy blob. You should know this by now. So. Goggle anything you want to know about.)

9. I hate winter with a blazing anger. I hate it and still don't know why I live here in the Midwest. Stupidity is my best explanation.

9. I did nine over again because I am pretty sure you all knew that about my hate relationship with winter..

10. I am infatuated with snow man figurines. Love them soooo much. I love them. I even made up a song for them when I was decorating for Christmas/Winter. This does NOT mean that I love winter though. My snow man figurines do not cause frost bite, nostrils freezing shut, and nasty white slush.

Alright. There you have it folks. Enjoy. Or don't. Whichever works for you.

I must go now and pluck my whiskers, shower and get my ass out the door just to freeze my ass off to go to my daughters dance recital. And maybe I'll do a little shopping considering we will be at the mall anyway. Retail therapy works well for me.

Peace and Happy Holidays my crazy friends.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

The "real" Christmas Card.

Merry Belated Christmas and a Happy New Freaking Year.

Hello Friends and Family. I hope you this letter finds you well, happy and for crimeney out loud, I hope it finds you warm because so far mother nature has been a slut to us here in the Midwest.

This year has been a whirlwind. I had diarrhea 65 days of the year and the other 300 I was constipated. At this time, you should be thankful you are not my doctor because he gets the whole picture when I am discussing this. Color, texture, firmness etc. Did I mention that my doctor is "Hot" and it is really embarrassing when you are discussing the firmness of your poo. Bygones.

I still do shit for the PTO even though I unofficially stepped down from Vice President last year. I'm a sucker. Next year, I swear, I will be null and void from the PTO. If you have small children just entering Kindergarten next year, take my advice and run for the hills if the PTO tries to enlist you. Just saying.

Oh, and I sell dildo's and butt plugs for a living.

My daughter is a mouthy preteen. The good news is that because she knows everything Craig and I have decided to let her rent her own apartment and move out at 11yrs old. She will be fine and we will only be right up the street drinking at the bar if she needs us. Just a hop, skip and taxi ride home for us to get to her. We also decided that she can drop out of school because it is totally cramping her style. Besides, she knows it all, why does she need school?

And she is always, always late. She's a pokey ass. This way, she need not worry about getting to school on time.

The husband is working from home now and I am drinking daily. It's so much better to tolerate when you are completely shit-faced. He is also the Assistant Chief on the Fire Department which probably has saved him from being murdered by me. At least he is gone more. His bald spot isn't showing signs of growing, so that's good. Someday he will fart is asshole out and he smells like hot garbage 60% of his life. He could probably win a farting contest though, so we always have that going for us. Oh. And he snores like a banshee. Some valuable advise, putting a pillow over their face only temporarily stops the snoring when they stop breathing. The cops will question this though and it turns into a ton of paperwork. I find jabbing him with my elbow works the best.

My hot flashes are out of control and turn me into a raging bitch. One of my dogs is the phantom shittier and shits downstairs occasionally. I find punishing them both by rubbing their noses in it makes me feel much better. And because they cannot mouth back to me I don't give a shit what they think. I procrastinate something fierce and can be labeled lazy. This is why you are getting your Christmas card in July.

Have yourself a Merry little Christmas friends and family. Don't forget to drop a $20 in my envelope for my Christmas present. If you are family, we don't accept anything less then $50. I will break your legs if it isn't at least that.

And I almost forgot. We are also a grieving family and I find myself more aggravated because my father-in-law isn't here for me to pick on anymore. So. This causes my anger to build up. Christmas will never be my favorite holiday again because of losing him so close to the holidays. Maybe Martin Lutheran King Day will be a fav of mine now. Anyway, you may not want to come for a visit anytime soon. I'm liable to pick on you. And most of you getting this letter are snot-nosed babies who cannot tolerate a good beating. Pansies.


Monday, December 15, 2008

What is a Cracker to do?

I'm incredibly bored. I really couldn't get an more bored. I could clean more, but I don't feel like it. I could finish decorating my finished basement, but that would require me to go into the garage to find things and it is toooo damn cold to be in there. I can't leave the house because my nostrils freeze together and I suffocate. is really that damn cold. My nipples are inverting and poking out my back. It isn't pretty.

I could sit and write a post and watch a movie, which is what I really am doing however, the ants in my pants are getting the best of me and my restless leg syndrome makes me feel like I am moving, even though I am stationary. This totally sucks when you are trying to get some shut eye. I have considered cutting my legs off sometimes.

I could tackle the disaster of a room that my daughter resides in but I already threatened her that if she doesn't do it, she will be grounded. And I don't know how you feel about groundings, but I feel it is actually more punishment for me. So, I guess I'll give her yet another day to finally make it look presentable and not like a pack of wolves ransacked her bedroom. A troll would consider it disgusting.

I can give you some valuable cleaning tips since it is what I do best. Plus, I am a lazy piece of slime and I always look for the easiest way to clean. So, I will pass my knowledge onto other lazy pieces of slime too. Your welcome.

1: Use paper bags to clean your mirrors. Newspaper works well too but if you insist on paper instead of plastic, now you have another reason to get what you want.

2: Shaving cream is soap. And so I lather it up in the shower while I am allowing the hot shower to relax my cramped muscles. Then I use a washcloth and clean the tub and shower. It works might fine. And you don't burn your lungs out with toxic fumes.

3: If you have a nasty stubborn ring around the tub, grab a jar of mayonnaise (which isn't any more expensive then cleaning solutions), rub it into the ring and leave over night. Rinse the next morning and viola'....ring around the tub vanished before your very eyes. Or instead of rinsing it out you can make your family packed lunches and that my friends, is called multi-tasking.

4. Lemon juice is awesome for removing rust. And it smells so fresh and clean.

5. Put some baking soda in the toilet and let it sit for awhile. Flush and see how nicely the bowl sparkles. Until your husband rushes in with a newspaper. It ain't so pretty after that.

6. Use tea bags in warm water to wash your hard wood floors. Oh.So.Pretty.

7. Duct tape doubles as a lint brush. It does have more uses then just shutting up a mouthy pre-teen.

8. Put some nice smelling dryer sheets under the couch cushions. It will smell great for weeks. Don't bother removing the crusty food, pencils, mouse turds or anything else. Nobody will see it but they will smell the fresh smell of dryer sheets.

Alright, the Restless Leg Syndrome and ADHD isn't going to let up so I must run around in a circle for a few hours. It's gonna be awkward when visitors come over later.

Happy cleaning.....or not. But please for the love that is all holy, never allow your house to look like this.
You are ultimately a big pile of raunch if you live like this. Just saying.

Monday, December 8, 2008

A fly on our wall....

My marriage is strong, fun, and will last a lifetime. We have an understanding between each other. However, our marriage is always put on a pedestal by others. People envy our marriage. People wish they had a loving marriage like us.

It is true. My husband is a very affectionate man. He routinely shows his love in front of others as I do as well. We are truly, deeply, madly in love. We love our lives, we love our daughter, we love our family. We share love with each other and yes...I think my husband is pretty terrific as well. I am proud of the bond we worked so hard to achieve and I am proud to say that I am pretty spoiled rotten.

But....and this is a big but...we do have our moments of wanting to poke each other in the eye sockets. We have our moments that we leave the house running to get the hell away from each other. I have been known to call my husbands friends and beg them to take him to the bar and out of the house. Especially when my favorite show is on and he is whining like a baby.

You would laugh or cry if you were a fly on our wall though. It can sound something like this.

Husband: "You are being bitchy."

Me: "You are being a bag of vomit!"

Then there are the days that he makes me want to push him down the stairs. For instance. My husband is completely dependant upon me. I'm surprised I haven't had to wipe his ass yet. He cannot manage anything without my help. I know it is a cliche to say "He is like another child" but honestly....he IS like another child. My ears bleed. I hear any given day:

"Honey, Hon, Hooonnneeeyyy" or "" or "Woooffff, Wooooffff, Wooooffff, Bark, Woof,Bark"

from the kid, the husband and the dogs. And then there is the phone. I get asked daily for favors from somebody. I want to hide under a blanket of warm sand in Bermuda from these people. I.Am.Not.Kidding. It is annoying as SHIT.

I swear it is the curse of "Stay-at-home" mom. Your husband expects the world, your kid expects the universe and the friends/other family/acquaintances expect the leftovers. Apparently, my "job" was to become every one's "bitch" when I became the stay-at-home mom. It stinks of hot garbage.

And if that isn't enough, I am also expected to do much more because I only have one kid. So, that means if Sheylee's friends have siblings, then I am expected to pick up slack and be responsible for play dates. I'm considering pulling my child out of school, ending all relationships with her friends and homeschooling her. Pretty much I'm going to turn her into a hermit. It's appropriate since I'm considered a "troll".

Today I got mad at my husband/overgrown-child and made up a Christmas song for him to hear.

To the song "Deck the Halls"

"Deck Craig's balls with a bunch of bruises.....falalalalalalala....laaaaaa!"

He has since left the house giving me the space that I desperately needed. This is where "Understanding" comes into play. He understood that if he didn't get out of my face, he would have his balls for lunch. It's good to be evil.

Thursday, December 4, 2008

You cannot laugh!!!

My daughter. My adorable, sweet, perfect (at times) daughter.


She is my daughter. And for that.....I have no one to blame but myself.

I'll explain. This is another story of how my daughter can embarrass the shit right out of me.

We decided to go shopping for her teachers Christmas gifts and a few of her friends gifts as well (which resulted in buying 10 gifts for all her "best friends"). We were in a store at the mall that has a variety of things. Skanky things if you go in the wrong area (I avoid when I'm with my child but ironically it happens to be my favorite shopping spot when I'm alone), kid things in the good area and a great assortment of cheaper but cool gifts. And there is an area that the teenagers that look like they worship the devil find their clothes.

My daughter, who was staring down a young teenage girl dressed in baggy black pants, chains hanging lower then her pants, spiked black hair, some shirt that had a demonic saying on it, white make-up, black lipstick, and earrings all over the place. She was spooky. I said a few "hail Mary's" after I looked into her strange eyes. Anyway......

My daughter, who never seems to know when to shut her hole, yells:

"Mom, is that a girl or a boy that is dressed all Gothic?"

(imagine her saying this with her hand on her hip, her eyes rolling and her head sashaying)

I prayed like the dickens and pushed (literally) my daughter out the door. I felt the sting on the back of my head from the girl's stares. Gah!

After lecturing her about stereotyping.....and....I'm ashamed to say.....after I got on my knees thanking God I didn't die from Gothic Girl killing us (What? Don't judge know damn well you stereotype too......)we proceeded to Younkers. I was interested in bedding. We happened to go through the make-up area. A older lady was getting a make-over. My daughter, who thinks she is the fashion guru (even though her coat, which is supposed to be a bright green, is covered in chocolate milk, mud and who the hell knows what else) mentions very loudly:

"That lipstick looked hideous on her!"

This is where I considered taking her to the security guards and telling them she was a lost child.

Me...being the patient mother I am, told her that I would shave her head bald the next time she embarrasses me like that. And I mean it people. I will Her head bald. That needed clarification. Moving on.......

We made it through Thanksgiving without my father-in-law, his birthday and now Christmas and my daughter's birthday are coming up. We are not anticipating the holidays at all. Well. Craig and I are not anticipating daughter has presents on the brain right now...which is fine by me. I hate to see it when she misses her papa. We still have some stress and big decisions that we need to get through but all in all.....we are doing good. If you could pray that my husband can find a job he enjoys and not one that he despises, I would be grateful. And pray that we find some peace in our heart. Thank you so much.

Now. For you amusement. A funny joke.

What do you call a delivery truck full of vibrators on Christmas Eve?

Toys for Twats!

ha, ha, ha.

Monday, December 1, 2008

A side of Humor with my Insanity.

Today was one of those "kapow in the kisser" days. I found out that a young kid I know passed away this past weekend from injuries sustained in a motorcycle accident. My "Scoober Boober" dog has what I believe is a intestinal blockage. She just got a mouth full of mineral oil per the Internets advice. My "Vamper Rampers" dog cracked her nail straight down the middle all the way to the bottom and bled all over the place. This means I will be carting two disobedient but very loved mutts to the vet tomorrow. It should be completely shitty. But I will sell my kidney to fix my fur kids. Not to mention I could never, ever tell my daughter that her best pal's died.

I decided that my day was crap so I took my daughter and her friend to see the Wizard of Winter. You probably all seen the Budweiser commercial with the house that lights up to Christmas music? Well....we have our own (and better) house in a town only a few miles away. Go here to check out this spectacular light show. It only has video's from the prior years and I must say, this years is bigger and better plus his neighbors are getting into the spirit too. So, it is more then one house "dancing" to Christmas music. And...And...And...he takes donations and all proceeds goes to Make a Wish! In the last 3yrs, he has raised over $50,000!!!! It's magnificent
So, in the car my daughter reminded me of a very funny story. I thought I would share.

Sheylee was about 5yrs old and decided that she was not able to wipe her own butt anymore. So, she would call you into the bathroom, where you would find her bent over with her butt cheeks spread and poop smeared all over. It was soooooo not pretty.

Me and my husband were going insane. She was in school for criminey out loud. I'm just glad her bowl movements were always on schedule and always when she was home. I couldn't imagine the embarrassment of her teacher finding her in this position. the time we were remodeling our bathroom. There was a gigantic hole where the tub was going to go. My husband and I were downstairs working when we heard the words: "Mooooommmm.....Dddddaaaadddd.....Come wipe my butt." She didn't know we were downstairs so my husband yells up through the hole:

"Sheyleeeeee.....This is the Butt need to start wiping your own butt!"

I heard Sheylee say:

"Oh my just scared the crap out of me. Who are you?"

My husband repeats:

"This is the Butt God. I came here to tell you that you are too old to have your mom and dad wipe your butt. It's gross. Staaaarrtttt wiiiipppiiinnngggg yyyyooooouuuuurrrr ooowwwwnnnn bbbuuuttttt!"

I laughed until I peed. It was hilarious. I hear Sheylee go:

"Fine. I will wipe my own butt. But it is not my fault if I have poop in my undies!"

It may not be funny to you.....but the Butt God story is a classic in our home. We laugh every time. I get the vision of my parents being old and decrepit and living here instead of a nursing home. I get the unsettling vision of my parents needing their butt's wiped and hearing my husband yelling down to them:

"This is the Butt God....wipe your own Butt!"

I'm gonna go drink a little wine and pray that my pups are all better soon. I'm gonna pray for Matt, the young kid who lost his life this last weekend and I'm gonna think about his family. My heart is heavy. Not to mention tomorrow would have been my father-in-law's 64th Birthday. I miss him terribly. I wish he was here. I could really use some advice right now. My husband is not so hip on his current job because they are being dorks and I know he could use his dad's wisdom. My father-in-law was the most brilliant business man I have ever known. *sigh* But I keep on "Keeping ON" because he would not be at peace if we were not. But that doesn't mean I can't wish for him here.

Fly High Matt!

Happy Birthday Dave. We miss you so very much! I can almost feel your strong hugs that I would so often get. Just one more hug, one more smile, one more laugh, one more day. We love you!

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

My day in a crazy nutshell.

1. Woke up angry because I wasn't bit by Edward, the vampire from the book (and movie) Twilight.

2. Sat down to finish homework with spastic daughter and eating cinnamon toast crunch. Sneezed in my bowl and blew chunks from the holes on my head into daughters cinnamon toast crunch. Tried to convince her to eat it anyway.

3. Blew a gasket when I walked into my dirty daughter's room. Threatened to take away the cell phone. She exclaimed that it is her room and she should keep it as she wants. Threw garbage bags in her room and said the infamous words: "When you pay rent, you can keep it how you want." Cringed about sounding like mother.

4. Had a panic attack when I remembered how much work I have to do.

5. Considered breaking my leg so I could get out of Thanksgiving at my house this year.

6. Contemplated what would be better. A broken leg or a concussion.

7. Left the house to get last minute shit. Filled the car up with gas. Couldn't pay at the pump. Fine. Went inside to pay. Came out and put air in my almost flat tire. Decided I wanted a pop. Went back inside. Almost fell. Shook my fist in the air at my father-in-law because I could almost hear him laugh. Got back in the car. Realized that coffee sounded much better then a pop. Went back inside. Talked to an older gentleman for a good 5 minutes. Ended up giving him a hug because he reminded me of my deceased father in law. Smiled. Left.

8. Almost blew a stop sign. Let out a collective sigh of relief. Had another panic attack because I realized once again that I had a lot of work to do.

9. Cursed at the person in front of me that was driving like they were in a coma.

10. Had to pee so bad I thought I was going to blow out my urethra.

11. Stop at Home Depot and peed. Couldn't find what I wanted. Got angry because no one was there to help. Considered choking someone. Another panic attack.

12. Got a text from hub that read "What are you doing?" I responded "None of your bees wax."

13. Didn't get a response. Felt triumphant.

14. Called hubby because I needed to ask him about the trip to Home Depot. Got pissed. Said some mean words. Hubby laughed. Pissed me off more. Hubby laughed more. Broke a few commandments.

15. Left Home Depot empty handed. Told hubby to go himself. I was coming home.

16. Decided to go find some angry music to listen too. Couldn't find angry music. Asked an associate what kind of angry music I should get. Associate was dumb founded. Sighed. Grabbed Enya instead. In case you didn't know, Enya is classical music. Not angry music. Failed again. Damn it.

17. Forgot to email one of daughters teachers. I was mad at him. Email read:

Dear Mr. Yoursointrouble,

Sheylee did not get the homework done that you assigned. Mostly because her, myself and my husband could not figure out the answers. In the future, please keep in mind that we are not stupid but have been out of school for over a decade. There was multiple answers that would have been right. We didn't understand what you wanted from us. This is very unfair.

I do not want to hear that Sheylee got a bad grade on this assignment. I would be highly upset if she did. If you would like to further discuss this, we can set up an appointment.

Sheylee's mom

This is the same teacher that I bribed with a doughnut to give my daughter an "A". He will most likely laugh at this email. Putz.

18. Got roped into taking 3 girls to dance tonight. Another panic attack and another commandment broke.

19. Prayed. Prayed for forgiveness and for patience.

20. Yelled at husband approximately 900X's. Once again, he laughed.

21. Pumping myself up to clean and get things done. Instead. I get on the computer and blog.

22. Curse myself for being a procrastinator. Left new post undone.

23. In town again. Forgot things. Go figure.

24. Get behind another person in a coma. Curse you people.

25. Considered buying numb chucks on Ebay.

26. Panic attack. Double up on meds.

27. Diffuse huge crisis in friends life. Talk on the phone for a hour while in town.

28. Jealous of everyone else that can multi-task.

29. Go to Walgreens to look for Cinnabun Coffee thanks to Dysfunctional Mom. Cannot find it. Find a cute pair of PJ's thanks to Kel (who's having a give-a-way) and Kat (who just bought a cute pair of PJ's.) Rats. Cannot find my size. Apparently they do not make PJ's in the size of "BlubberButtThunderThighsGETyourfatassupandexercise"

30. Decide to shit slime out of my ass and start taking Alli.

31. Do not buy Alli. Shitting slime scares me.

32. Home again, Home again. Let the Procrastinating begin.

33. Panic attack.

34. Contemplate a nap.

35. No nap.

36. Cries. Laughs. Sings along to Pink. Cries. Laughs. Cries.

37. Open door to rat infested daughters room again. Shut it quickly. Another panic attack.

38. Sent a text to daughter. Told her she was in a heap of trouble.

39. Sent another text that said sorry for being so crabby.

40. Cry. Laugh. Cry. Laugh. Pee.

41. Finish the daughters room which resulted in 9 gigantic bags of garbage. Contemplated punishments. As I was dragging the garbage out, husband stupidly says: "The garbage man is going to be mad at us. Ha, Ha...Ooops." Husband realizes that he is in deep shit. I scream: "Us. Really? Us? Wouldn't that mean that you would have had to do something?? Really! Us!" Husband retreats to office to lick his wounds.

42. Clean out the fridge. Start dishwasher. Thank God for inventing dishwashers otherwise I would have thrown all the dishes away. Realize that I have what feels like my period cramps. Wait? I don't have periods anymore. Realize that I have worked my ass off and I have some serious stomach issues. Laugh. Hardy-Harr-Har. Does this constitute as too sick to have Thanksgiving here????

43. Call sister-in-law. Cry. She chuckled. Told me to relax. She'll be here tomorrow to help. Nope. The cramps don't help get me out of Thanksgiving Hell!. *sigh*

44. Vow to never have another holiday here forever. Talk to sister. She recommends Christmas here. I agree. Dang it. Fooled again.

45. Worry that this post may be too long. Too bad. I'm venting before I blow up. Don't judge me.

46. Drats. Another project that has been on the back burner suddenly needs attention. Cuss. Swear. Curse. Cuss. Swear.

47. Decides to not do project and to take a tums.

48. Finds humor in my obnoxious day. Considers admitting self to psycho ward. Would it work? It would be like a vacation. Maybe I would lose weight because the food is so awful? Hmmm. This is tempting. So very tempting until I realize that I would come home to disaster. Still worth it though.

49. Breathing becomes erratic. Teeth begin to grind. Eyes start to flutter. Begins to mumble words that are not known in the English vocabulary. Farts. Feels better.

50. Just kidding. I didn't fart. But it made me laugh. Ha.Ha.Ha.

Realizes that this is what the holidays are all about. Puts on Christmas music. Changes answering machine announcement to "Happy Holidays From Us. We cannot take your call right now. Leave us a message and we will call you back as soon as we can. Thank you for calling." Sounds reasonably happy. Lights a memory candle of father-in-law so he can be with me while I clean. Remember holidays spent with him. Smile at the memories with tears in my eyes. Glues hairs back on head that were pulled out because of the outbursts throughout the day. Give husband kisses and hugs (he's reluctant, scared that I am going to choke him.) Sends an "I love you with all my heart" message to daughter. Thanks God for days like today because everyday is a blessing to you after you just buried a loved one. Thanks God for my patient husband and loving daughter and forgiving dogs who also got yelled at today. Gets even more giddy because husband agreed to take girls to dance.Sings to self: "What a man, what a man, what a mighty good man."

Hopes everyone has a Very Happy Thanksgiving! You are all so wonderful. I'm also thankful for you and you and you.

Monday, November 24, 2008

The Power of Screaming

This is a story about me and a hot dog. Sit back and relish in the fact that you are not me and for should be very grateful.

So. Some pile of shit decided to rain on my parade. I don't like people who rain on my parade. Sure. I may be the only idiot in this parade but that is bygons. Moving on..........

So. Let me start over. I was hungry for a hot dog. Yes. Me and a hot dog equaled LOVE today. Usually, I gag at the mere thought of hot dogs (meaning the actual hot dog....not the hot dog smothered in my husbands underwear....I like that kinda hot dog.). But today, I got a unsuspected craving for hot dogs. *Gag*

And because we were at Sam's Club and we hadn't had lunch yet, we embarked on their cafeteria for a quick grub fest. And I was salivating. I was frothing at the mouth. I was ready to munch on some wieners. I had just got done making it all purdy with some ketchup and mustard and it was looking mighty fine. Bow-chicka-bow-wow.

This is were the old bastard decided to educate me on what hot dogs are made of. And I was ready to belch up everything that had been in my stomach within the last 24hr period after his lecture. And I could not bring myself to put the plump wiener in my spit pooled mouth. Even though I wanted nothing more than to eat a hot dog....I couldn't eat left over pig guts encased in pig intestine.

I held back my urge to give this old dick a good ass kick. I wanted to karate chop his eyeballs out. I was so pissed that he ruined me giving into a pregnancy craving (NO. I'm not pregnant. Apparently when I joke to people that I am pregnant they forget that I have no equipment to make or house a baby.). I wanted that wiener shoved in my mouth!!! GAWD.

So, instead I gave the old geiser a dirty look and sarcastically thanked him for informing me of the dynamics to hot dog making while throwing my lunch (and money) in the trash. He got the clue I was really not that thankful. I wanted to yell: "Seriously, your so old you remember when the Dead Sea was just sick, but in all the years, you never figured out to shut the fuck up when not spoken too?????"

His wife gave me "the look" like "Yes...I married this schmuck!" and I gave her a sympathetic look back. The look that says: "Miss, I know your pain." Men need to learn to shut their freaking face-holes. And let me tell you what. I moaned and groaned and bitched and complained until.....well....until now really.

I should learn to get over things quicker. It might help my moods.

Then again, it may not. So screw it.

And may I add "Go Packers!" Actually, I can add that because it is my blog so "Go Packers"

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Sex talks and giggles.

My brat and her friends had to have "the class" at school. Yep. The sex ed class. She decided to embark on this adventure by only using one word


The school allowed parents to come the night before "the class" to the school to watch a very out dated video of teens who go through hormonal changes, peer pressure and then pregnancy.

My husband and I were curious and thought that this was a splendid idea. husband thought this was a splendid idea. I didn't so much care to go, but I agreed enthusiastically by saying "Why?? I already saw the video in 6th grade. I'm pretty sure I know what sex is by now. Why the hell do I have to go to this??? Why Gosh Damn it....why?????"

Then he told me that it was important, blah, blah, bullshit. So, we went. At first we were confused. The parking lot was empty, the school looked deserted and maybe we just got the date wrong. I was hoping we missed it. But the principal and the nurse were there, in the library, with the materials and the dreaded movie. Shit. We waited, and waited and waited for someone else to show up. I started to realize that it would be me, my husband (whom I deemed a pervert and was only there in hopes to seeing porn because he couldn't possibly be that involved in our kids life, could he? ) the nurse and the principal. Oh My God. Shit.

So, we watched the sex ed video that could have possibly been the same damn movie I watched in 6th grade, with the nurse and principal. I stifled about 500 giggles. I almost shit myself watching my husband stifle the giggles as well and had a sudden urge to stand up and yell "Oh Hell....just have sex already you little slut!"

It was hilarious in my mind.

And now we are learning about how tree's have sex. And how plants have male parts and lady parts. Yep. Did you know that a flower has an ovary??? Am I the only one who doesn't????

And tonight while doing her homework with her friend I heard "Ewwwwww...gross....they are having sex. The trees are having sex." I rolled my eyes at them and then turned my head and giggled because they said "sex". That's terribly wrong, isn't it??? I'm never winning "Mother of the Year" award am I??? Double shit.

Anyway, I pulled it together and told them how the conifers have to release their *uh hem*, sperm (giggle, giggle) from the pine cones and then the wind blows the blah, blah, blah and if it lands on a female cone then they just did it. They reproduced."

And then I hear roaring laughter and suddenly they stopped and both together went:

" said "did it!" That's gross"

I should be worried. They are totally understanding what "did it" means now. This is bad in so many ways. Now I can't talk "code" to my husband when I want "sumthing, sumthing" anymore because my soon to be 11yr old can decipher it. This blows chunks all over my stealthy moves as a wife. No more "code". We may have to stop sex altogether because I realized that I heard my mom and dad "doing it" at about her age and it brings back bitter, disgusted memories and I didn't talk to them for weeks because I was so mortified and pissed that their old asses did that shit. I would die if my daughter heard us. Oh my God....that is just so wrong.

"Ewwwww" is the only word that comes to mind for me too.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

I'm a crotchety, menopausal, stupid moron.

I am pretty competitive. Did you know that?? Well, I am. We bought the "Price is Right" Wii game and I shit a elephant if someone wins other then me. When driving, if a car passes me, I have the sudden urge to press a little harder on the gas pedal. I rarely walk away from a dare. That is why I have streaked around the house naked before. But that's a story that should never be shared.

Today was a celebration. A school teacher, and a friend, is battling cancer for the 2nd time in her life. She is a strong, courageous lady. The community was buzzing with life today. I have never seen so many of my fellow towns people in one place at the same time. It was beautiful. It was a carnival, a bake sale, a silent auction, a petting zoo. You name was there. And her fellow co-workers and the wonderful teachers in this community put on a brilliant, extraordinary celebration for her. Her spirits are high thanks to all the encouragement and love. I was impressed and seriously cried when I saw the turn out. A.M.A.Z.I.N.G. I was proud of this town.

So it was a Pink celebration since she originally battled breast cancer. I was decked out with a pretty pink blazer, some nice jeans and some high heeled boots. Even my purse matched. My daughter and friend were pretty in pink as well and wore some matching pink hats to celebrate in. I have to admit. I was feeling good this morning.

At the carnival was a game called "Dizzy Bats". Sounds fun, eh? You put your forehead on the bat, spin as fast as you can and then race to the finish line. You are pretty dizzy and it always makes for some funny moments. A friend mentioned to me that I didn't need the bats. I was already dizzy. I snarled at him and showed my teeth but took the joke in heed. I ran after him saying "Say that to my face, PUNK!" It was humorous.

Then my friends son wanted to race me. A normal person that already has bone density issues thanks to the lack of hormones would have instantly said no. Well, I am one stupid idiot. The least I should have done was ditched the heels. I am a walking catastrophe as it is. Heels usually result in some blood shed. I should have known.

But I decided against better judgement to just hurry up and beat the tarnation out of this much younger human. He is only 13yrs old but I could have so kicked his ass if I would not have been teetering on 2inch heels. Okay, maybe one inch. I don't have the slightest clue.

To make this shorter, even though I have a bruised ego and could use some pampering, I ended up in the doctors office. Yep, stupid ole' crotchety dumbass that I am snapped a ligament and pulled a tendon. Which mind you last week I pulled a groin muscle. So, in so many words, I am a freaking disaster. It was not fun to tell the doc what I did. I wish I had a story like "Well, I was drunk and fell off of a table while dancing." or "I ran down a murderer and brought him to justice."

But nooooooo....I was playing a silly kids game. Ugh.

I will be fine in a few weeks. Actually, it feels somewhat better already. No cast needed. Just a ugly tie-up bootie. It helps support the tender area so I cannot move it a lot. If he could have taken a X-Ray of my pride, it would have been worse then the foot.

Worse part, the friend that was teasing me saw the ugliness and him and his wife pity me because I am such a klutz. *sigh*

I'll be icing my foot and licking my wounds all week now. The funny part was the doctor actually wrote a prescription out that said:

"Husband is to cook supper, do dishes and take care of all his wives needs."

What a hoot. My husband didn't find this as funny. I am framing the bitch.

I still haven't told you about sweet friend that thoughtfully sent me a bracelet that reminds me of my dearly missed father-in-law. A person I never met in real life, but still thought of me as I grieve. A doll. A sweetheart. And if my computer didn't need to be reformatted AGAIN so I could download pictures, I would show you the beautiful bracelet. But apparently, when I download a buttload of shit, it really messes with the lap top. I blame the kid of course, it is more understandable if she does it and not me. That's the beauty about being a mom. You can totally blame the kid. :-)

Now that the pain killers are taking effect, I am going to go drool the night away. I am so out of touch right now and I will be even further behind after the reformatting takes place because I will have to add every blog to my favorites list again. I am already overwhelmed but there is no excuse for neglecting my bloggy friends. I'm just a bit unmotivated too, which doesn't help plead my case any. Sorry for being lazy.

And now....a quick joke.

A blonde takes her sweater into a cleaners to have it dry cleaned. She talks softly and the cleaner couldn't hear her. So he said "Come again?" The blond said "No, only mustard this time"

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Oh Sweet Biscuts....

The last time I had a massage it felt more like torture then relaxation. I swore, the lady put me in the pretzel position and her name was Ulga.

Not this time. I found a new massage therapist that made me weep with pleasure. Massages are usually awkward for me. I make my husband turn the lights off when we are having whoopie time. I don't care that a sheet is covering me. I feel vulnerable. But today when I went to see my doc because I was having flu like symptoms, severe muscle pain and groin pain that was killing me, he told me that I pulled a groin muscle and my fibromyalgia is being ugly. I was told, per doctors orders, to get a massage.

I hmmmmppphhhed at him. I was already feeling like a Mack truck ran me down, no way was Ulga gonna manhandle me again. But my husband forced me to find a new therapist. So, after whimpering I reluctantly called this gal, who came highly recommended.

She was little, cute and perfect. I walked in looking like a creature that just limped out of a lagoon. Gravy!!! I was going to feel even more awkward as her fingers did Braille over my cottage cheese. I decided to go with the hot stones, even though these usually send me into a hot flash fiesta. This girl must have known me before she met me. She cooled the room down, to a point that made my nipples make teepee's in the sheet. But the minute she used that hot stone on me, I was in a good place. She didn't blab about how bad her life was like Ulga did. She didn't talk about her gastric issues like Ulga did. She turned on Enya....whom I love, lit some partylite candles that smelled delicious and shut the lights off. I placed my round face into the hole, and relaxed. For the first time in a long time, my body relaxed. She was terrific. The experience was nirvana. And all my issues went right out the window. I didn't care that she saw my fugly undies that had holes in the ass. At least I didn't wear my spanx. I didn't care that my cottage cheese was moldy. I didn't care that when I turned over on my back, my boobs split down the middle and my nipples touched the floor. I didn't care that I didn't shave my upper legs. It's snowy and winter here. I shouldn't have to shave the upper half. I shouldn't have to shave at all. I didn't care that I started drooling when I fell into a half assed sleep. I didn't care that I had to pee. I would have peed right on the table and not have moved. I could have sharted (fart and shit yourself) and I wouldn't have given a damn. My mind went blank. I thought of Dave (F-I-L) for a brief second, started to cry and then she massaged my scalp and I went blank again. She didn't hurt me ever. She got most of the knots out even though she didn't use her fat elbow to release the knots. She simply stoned me and rubbed it out. I tipped her $40. It was soooooo worth it. I would sell my body 500X's to get the money for that experience again. I know what I want for Xmas now. I know that I will become a fat prostitute to see her again.

There was no school today because of the shit ass weather but my daughter went to a friends house and is staying there all night because chances are there won't be any school tomorrow either. My husband will either starve or cook supper. I bet he starves. I am going na-night soon. I am so relaxed that I will sleep like a baby for once. And I refuse to feel guilty about it because I have a doc's note and a massage therapist's strict instructions to rest. I can watch Dancing with the Stars without doing laundry. Tomorrow will be a different story but I always have today.

I have to tell you about a bloggy friend that we all know that sent me a beautiful bracelet but she is worthy of a whole entire blog. until tomorrow.

Monday, November 10, 2008

How do you not wish......

I have a few friends who, as hard as it may sound to believe, talk to spirits. They do not see spirits, although one did have a ghost in her home, but they can talk to spirits. And one of them talked to my father-in-law on the drive to the funeral.

I am so jealous. I would love nothing more then for Dave to tell me that it is okay that he died alone....with a broken heart, both literally and not. He missed his ex-wife (my husbands happily remarried mother) and even after all the hurt and deception, would have taken her back.

The other spirit talking friend told me that they will talk to me when I stop wishing they would. I cannot stop wishing that. Sometimes I silently ask him to talk to me, sometimes when I'm alone I scream out to him. The dogs seem to think I am screaming at them because they run to the bedroom, their time-out room.

I still cry daily. I still miss him dearly. I am afraid of the holidays. I am afraid of his birthday which is coming up. I am afraid of forgetting him. But, I am grieving in a good way. I know that sounds silly, but I am grieving like I should and not ashamed of it. I cry when I need to, I have private moments of grief, I smile and laugh at funny moments, I may not be able to talk to him but I do feel him. I know he is with me when I need him the most.

Other then that, my daughter got her cell phone. I am sooooo sick of text messages and ringtones right now I could puke in her cereal bowl. She sent the same text of Stu from Family Guy to me 8 times. It is funny though when I get a text that says "Hi from the whole bus and I love you mom!" Then I don't mind the text. But I'm sick of Stu. She is obviously excited.

I'm pretty sure I have a hernia from the scar that was from a kidney surgery, c-section and the hysterectomy. They used the same opening 3X's and I'm sure it has caused a painful hernia. So, I've been walking like a blue hair all weekend fighting with my husband because I refused to go to the damn ER. And wouldn't you know when the doctor's office is open, I feel fine. So, I'm not going. I don't wanna go. I wanna stay home and read my Twilight book even though it really is supposed to be a book for teenagers. It is gooooood. If your a reader, and you are not accustomed to reading a book about vampires and such, I bet you would still like this book.

Well....the time has come to go vacuum for the 4ooth time this week and to do some laundry so I must stop blabbing. Okay, really, I'm gonna go play a game on MSN. I have good intentions.

Saturday, November 8, 2008

When I get to thinking....

Which isn't all that often. Seriously people. I'm not just shooting the shit with you on that. I try really hard to not think. It gets me in t.r.o.u.b.l.e.

For instance. I get in trouble with my husband because if my daughter sneezes, and I get to thinking, I wrap my almost 11yr old daughter in a few hundred blankets (because winter is officially here with snow on the ground and wind that will rip your outer layer of skin off), carry her to the car, which isn't a easy feat since she is almost taller then me, and rush her to the doctor. He then tells me that she has allergies. So. In a nutty nutshell, I basically just spent $30 (thanks to our insurance co-pay going up) for me to learn something I already knew. And my daughter is pissed and won't talk to me for awhile because I suffocated her.

Another example. If I get to thinking, I suddenly think that I have a life debilitating disease. I sat up all night long on WebMd pondering if I had a cancerous tumor wrapped around my aorta. I rush to the doctor, give him my diagnosis, tell him why and walk out of there with my head hung low in shame. Because he scolded me for being on WebMd again. Another shameful walk to the receptionist to shell out another $30.

And one more crazy moment. I swore that my house was haunted. I got to thinking about why the fan will move sometimes or footsteps are heard. I get freaked out, sit with a blanket over my head, praying with my rosary in hand until my husband comes home and explains the footsteps are the wind (45mile per hour winds in South Dakota) and the fan moves when the heat comes on. Try making up a lie like "I was just kidding and see if you would be my hero!" to that one. It goes over like a prostitute trying to get money from a priest. is best to not think. I can think about things like "Oh shitty shit, I broke a nail." or "Why the flippity flip is my middle toe bigger then my big toe?" or "Craptastic, the dog just shit downstairs and then threw up in it's pile of shit!"

These are okay to think about. My husband allows this thinking. He was worried when I pondered who to vote for. I did think about how to save the country but that just turned me into a blubbering douche bag. It took a priest, a bottle of wine and a shopping trip to get me out of my blubber douche bag state. And yet....I still chose the loser. For the first time since I have been voting....I chose the loser. This was almost a suicidal attempt. I don't like picking losers. I like picking my nose...but not losers.

Now...I have to go find someone to fix my broken nail and clean my house from a crazy bunko night that ended with tequila getting spilled on my carpet and my dogs getting drunk and singing "Tequila" with a worm in their mouth. I have a crazy life.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008


Somebody help me. Anyone. I am desperately needing a intervention.
I am a "As Seen On T.V." freak!!


It can fix anything big or small. You can hang a real life elephant from your house if you wanted to. You can fix any leak.....hell for $14.95 I would never need a plumber again. I could have put my favorite coffee mug that broke and shattered into a million pieces back together and painted it. I don't think it is toxic. So, when my daughter is arguing with me over which cell phone she thinks she needs (she thinks she needs the $200 Dare cell phone) I can just Magic Putty her pretty little mouth shut for awhile. Peace and Quiet for a mere $14.95!!!! Sold!!!!!

This little device amplifies sound so you can hear anything. I can use it to listen to my neighbors talking bad about me when my daughter pulls my pants down and I show my southern regions to them all. I can hear better in church (if I went to church) and could probably hear all of the old ladies digestive systems at work. I can eavesdrop in on my daughter and friends, so then I wouldn't have to get up from the couch to put my ear to the door. I betcha I could hear my neighbors fighting or having a romp fest. Wouldn't that be fun????? And can you believe that once again, it is only pennies to own this spy technology. Sold!!!!!!

I get so sick of buying razors to shave my hairy legs, pits and my girly area. The razors are never sharp enough and I am sure that it is the reason I have stubble all the time. Never again. With this contraption, I can just sharpen my blade anytime I need to. I may cut my juggler and bleed to death or cut off a important part of my vaginal area but at least my legs would be baby butt soft without the pain of waxing. And my daughter is sure to take off the top layer of her skin with this sharpened blade now. Only $19.95. Sold!!!!

Are you embarrassed of your ugly lawn and have your neighbors put up barricades to hide your lawn from the ugliness??? Mine have. I mean really, if it wasn't for weeds, there would be no green. And I have these ugly brown patches of dead lawn from where I peed in a drunken state and my urine is like acid and killed off the lush green dandelions. Well, now my neighbors can take down the barricades because I have Ultra Lawn Patch. I will no longer feel like the Hunchback of Notre Dame locked up in my bell tower. The townspeople will rejoice and once again accept me. This is the best yet....$12.95. Sold!!!!

Now seriously, I have bought a lot of "As seen on T.V." stuff. The wonderful. I don't have fish scaly feet in the summer time. Shoes away for shoe freaks like myself is a great help to your messy closet and Richard Simmon's "Sweating to the Oldies" did shed unwanted pounds for me with some great oldies music that I grew up on. Don't hate me because I love me my Richard Simmons. And trust me....there are many other "As seen on T.V." purchases that I truly have loved. I am addicted. Is it sad that I know the website by heart (pssssssttttt.......... at that I know all the retail stores that carry the most "As seen on T.V." items (pssssst.....Walgreens!)?

My family buys me these things for Christmas. I love watching infomercials. I could totally take Billy Mases's job.

I need a intervention. I think I'm going into counseling. Nicki?????? Nicki????? Are you there. Your a counselor....can you help a sista out here?????

Guess what. I lost all my favorite links again due to a new laptap this time. I am so shitting busy with things that I couldn't do over the course of the funeral and planning. I have about 200 thank you notes and 200 addresses I have to anywho to find. I have procrastinated too long now. I have insurance to deal with and all of the mail. Plus.....I am grieving in a much harder state then I would have expected myself too. I heard a old message on our answering machine from my beloved father-in-law yesterday and I cried for hours. I was looking for a number in my contacts on my cell phone and saw his name and busted out the tears. I have been dealing with my daughter asking and pleading and screaming "Why??? Why didn't God ask me first?" It breaks my heart. My husband is staying busy and yes...he has grieved a lot but this man was not only his dad, but his best friend. His mentor. He called and asked business questions all the time because my father-in-law was a genius business man. I fear a major meltdown and I am terrified because I am not strong enough for that. I call my parents all the time, make them go to the doctor, cry because I am scared that something else is going to happen. It always happens in 3's for us. I can't believe I wrote that because it makes me shake with fear. I am praying a lot. I feel Dave with me when I need him the most and I feel Jesus walking with me. This is the so comforting to me. I sleep none. I've been up since 4:30am, watching infomercials. Nothing makes me content. My favorite shows, my favorite movies, songs, food.....NOTHING. I feel disconnected and stressed. So, in a very big nutshell....I am neglecting you. I'm so sorry.

I know...I know. It will take time. But how much time?? I need to know. I really need to know. I think my friends are sick of me crying. I think that they have their own worries and are sick of me. I don't want to talk to Craig, it was his dad after all. I don't want to talk to Sheylee and disrupt her anymore. I don't want my sister-in-law to think I'm losing it. And I am certain that everyone is sick of me. I have bailed on so many of my responsibilities that I am sure the PTO is hating me right now. And I ask the same questions over and over and over. Ugh.

I went out last weekend and got plastered. It helped for a short time until I started throwing up and had a hang over the next day. But I smiled. Note: I actually do smile and laugh still. I don't want that taken away from me. You know I get through stress by laughing and I still do that. I am not a vegetable. I'm just venting my hard times that are more often then I would like of course. But I still laugh and I still smile and I still remember. So don't commit me yet.

Friday, October 31, 2008

Just in case you didn't know me yet.

I grew up in Sioux City, Ia (also known as Sewer City, Ia because John Morrell stinks it up!) I graduated from West High School in 93'. I wasn't the most popular but I wasn't the nerd either. Actually, I hung with them all. I never ever worked up to my potential in school and hanging with my family and friends was of up most importance. I sucked the big wiener in math but my favorite part of school was Romeo and Juliet.

The Homecoming King had a major love for me since 1st grade and even though he was handsome, I had no love interest back. I had a major crush on my history teacher, which ironically was my other favorite subject. He was just out of college and was very good looking. I went to a tech college in my senior year of high school and graduated mid term. I was a cheerleader for boy's basketball and football. I was also on the Dance Squad. After graduating mid-term I continued some college and then decided to get engaged to a cop and move to Ponca, Ne with him. I don't ever recall seeing my parents face as distorted as the day I told them I was moving in with my cop/cheater fiance.

Needless to say, it didn't work out. Not for lack of trying though. He cheated, I moved back home, he wanted me back, I sent him his ring back with a note that read "Buy your next girlfriend a diamond big enough to see!" See....I tried to work it out! :-)

My priorities changed from engaged retard to partying dork. But boy did I have fun. There are a lot of things I will not share with you about my drunken moments......those will have to wait. I will tell you that the history teacher that I loved so much saw me at a bar and we made out for an hour. Then I found out he was married. Fucker.

Then I met another loser of a boy. I had sex (protected....and I wouldn't lie about this) but somehow I ended up pregnant anyway. Loser boy didn't want to be a dad and I wouldn't give my baby up so I decided to be a single mom. I was strong, I have a great family and faith. 9 months later I had a beautiful little cone headed girl. She instantly became the love of my life.

Fast forward about a month after ripping my baby girl from my stomach and I met yet another man. This time I was fed up with men and pretty much gave him the cold shoulder. About two weeks later, in a different city (ironically the city we now live in) I ran into the same man again and now we are married. Happily most of the time until he pisses me off and then I make his life miserable. My cone headed girl is now almost 11yrs old and doesn't have a cone head any longer. It is a oddly shaped head but luckily her beautiful hair covers it. We have two furry kids, Vamp and Scooby. I had a hysterectomy so no more kids for us unless we decide to adopt. I am open minded about it but my husband changes the subject whenever I bring it up. We are happy and funny and goofy and have lots of friends and family that love us dearly.

I haven't picked a winner for the photo yet but there is still time to add your title.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008


My father in law. Gosh I miss him.

My father in law. This is his big fish that we stuffed. I have this fish in my possession now and I am so thankful for it. It is the only thing I wanted. It brings back memories. Memories that I won't ever let go.

It was a family photo. Notice how my father in law couldn't stop looking at his catch. He was so proud. My husband wasn't there when he caught it. He told him to "Get the Hell out of my fishing hole, your catching all the big ones!" Ha.Ha. Dave tried to get stink to hold it and she refused.
Now....because I was going through old pictures to find memories of my father in law whom I have missed so much and have had some really bad melt downs lately I happened to come across a picture that made my gut hurt. My daughter has a camera and you never know when she will take your picture. Some have them had to be deleted, as she took one of me on the crapper, but others are just plain funny.

I said that it looked like Craig just birthed our dog and I was the OBGYN. Ha, Ha. But, to put a smile on my sad face....come up with your own title. I need laughs. Forward this on and get people involved. The funniest one will win Leg Fusion from Girly Gals. It is a wonderful rub that you can put on your legs, back, neck....whatever. It is soooooo good. It helps with my Restless Leg Syndrome. I swear by it. I only ask you to forward this or link this on because I could use some serious laughs. I need them in a bad, bad way.
I will pick my favorite. Good luck. Don't forget to tell your loved ones how deeply you love them. You just never know.
I am still busy as hell so I haven't spent much time on the computer. Frankly, I have been going to bed early so I can feel better. My fibromylgia has been terrible. So, once again I ask for time to come back to blog world. But I read your comments over and over because they make me feel supported. Please don't stop.......
Fly High Papa Dave. We miss you so much and our hearts are shattered. I hope you are happy. I hope you haven't forgotten me. I haven't felt any signs lately and I need to know you are here with us. You were by far, the best father-in-law ever. I love you.

Friday, October 24, 2008

Flipping Aye Mother Rucker

I am soooo glad I did not grow up in the 50's or 60's. I've always wanted to live in that era until recently. The movie "Grease" made me want to done a poodle skirt or a pink leather jacket. I wanted to be Rizzo. I wanted to be the bad ass one who thought she was pregnant and sang about my distress in a drive-in movie theater bathroom. Actually, we have a drive-in theater near us....two to be exact. And sometimes I would go into the bathroom and sing a little. Or I fantasize that Sandra Dee is in the car next to me and I just punched her in the pretty little perfect goody-two-shoes head. Yep, I wasn't a Sandra Dee fan. She needed to be screwed bad. Her little prissy attitude was too much for me to handle. I think underneath those ugly clothes there was a slut waiting to get laid.

Moving on...........

But then I played around with a website that you could place your face in a different era. I cannot remember the site.....but it was yearbook something or other. Google'll find it.

I suddenly am very mad at my mother because she would have made me wear this hideous hair-do and ugly glasses. Trust me. She would have done this to me. She was so mean like that.
Why do I feel like crying right now? Or, I remember why. Because I truly think that I have a yearbook picture that resembles this. Now do you believe me when I say my mom was a nasty lady?
I sound like I have pent up anger and I have to say....I do. And I have to vent otherwise it will back up inside me and come out some other way. I was cramping a bit so I figured I better let it out before it comes out my bunghole. Just saying.
If I wasn't a lazy slob I would google this website myself. But I am in fact a lazy slob today. Have fun.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008


This week has been very long...very tiring....and very frustrating. To bury your father in law, of whom you love, is not something I would ever want to do again. E.V.E.R. If I could, I would go back to the day before he died, made him seek medical attention, and prayed over and over that he would be fine and with us for at least another 20yrs. But I cannot do this.

I found out a few things about myself that surprised me. I have been told that I am strong. But I never believed it. And after planning a funeral for a loved one, I realized that I will grieve yet I will survive. I bucked up and did what I had to do for my family. I believe that my lovely father-in-law was the source of my strength. He held me up when I felt down. Well...him and God because I think he saw me weak a few times and he lifted up my chin and patted my shoulders and sent me on my way. I am so very thankful for that. And my friends, oh how I thank God for our friends. They supported me and loved me and strengthened me. I only hope that I am as good as a friend as all of you (them!). And of course, my family. I can only say that I am so lucky and we are all sooooo loved. It makes my heart swell with pride. It is such a relief.

I also realized that just because a man puts on a robe, makes a vow to God and calls himself a Priest does not make him nice. In fact, I realized that they can be quite mean. And quite judgemental. And quite insensitive. And a certain Priest that just so happened to be the man I trusted to send my father in law off in a Honorable way can turn that into his own personal sermon and can quickly forget what his purpose of this sermon is. I am livid mad at this Priest right now. And I know that I should not judge the Catholic religion because of one rotten man that I have encountered but I must say, today it is very difficult for me to remember that he is the bad egg...not the church. Rest assured that this man will get a letter expressing my disappointment in his manners and I will remind him that a grieving family does not typically know exactly how to plan a funeral in a few short days. And that family does not deserve a coward of a man hiding behind his robe treating them with so much disgrace. I hope that my letter will help a different family when they have to deal with his anger. Unbelievable.

My family is doing okay. We are all sad and we are trying to remember that he is in a better place. You see....a quick little background on my father in law will help you understand our comfort a little more. He grew up with very strict Catholic parents. His father was harder on him then his other siblings. He struggled with his relationship with his dad. He married and provided for his family well but had a lot of stress with his job. He made his mistakes with parenting, as we all do. After 30 plus years of marriage, his wife decided that she didn't want to be in the place that she was. A bitter separation and a traumatic divorce left him sad and lonely. He managed to become closer to his children and grandchildren and kid-in-laws with a broken heart. He never healed from the hurt and deception. He would put on a brave front but deep down, he was lonely and sad. It bothered the hell out of me that he was alone at times. Anyway, long story short......he is now, after 7 years of pain, free from the hurt. He is flying high and he met God in person. He is happy. I know this. I have seen the signs. You may think this is crazy or maybe you don't, but my father in law let us know in subtle ways that he is very happy and we shouldn't worry about him any longer. We all used to struggle with his unhappiness, always wanting to ease the pain, and now we don't have to worry any longer. But I can say this.....he will be sorely missed.

The path of grief is funny. I find myself sad, mad, guilty and all the other emotions that I am too tired to remember. I am on the road to healing, as is my family. It could be scary at times but I am confident now that I can handle it. I hope you are all well and I will be back very shortly. Forgive me for being away from your blogs. I can assure you that I would have rather be visiting you then planning a funeral.

Love you all and thank you for your friendship.

Friday, October 17, 2008


There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love.

We are doing okay. Thank you dysfunctional mom for your linky love. You are amazing. Now. Jump your butt on a plane and come here fast. :-)

All your kind words and prayers are appreciated very, very much. You have helped my healing by simply caring. I find so much comfort from each and everyone of you. Thanks just doesn't seem to be enough to say.

As you can imagine, we are busy. I am torn on my feelings of just wanting to get this funeral over with as I am overwhelmed with speaking to the funeral home, church, caterer, family friends etc. (which coincidentally soothes me as well which is odd!) yet I want to procrastinate the inevitable. I am a procrastinator by nature. But this is something I don't have control of.

So many ask what they can do and all I ask is some prayers for the future without my FIL (father-in-law) just a phone call away or a hour trip. I did mention to my friends that are near that they can do my laundry or rub my feet but so far there are no volunteers. A massage would be helpful as well. Oh I suppose my husband could use a back massage as well however I deserve a longer one. I think the golden rule should be "Those who have the milk jugs should get whatever they want!"

In all seriousness.....thank you for your thoughts. And don't forget to pray for those her are in a much deeper situation then us. It can always be worse. This was my FIL mantra. ;-)

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Bad Day.

Yesterday was a day that I wish I could just close my eyes and it will all go away. Push the rewind button or click my sparkled red shoes together and say a mantra. However, I am not running from an evil witch or hanging with friends that have tails or straw for brains.

Yesterday, my father-in-law, had a massive heart attack and he went to meet his maker. He is catching the biggest fish in heaven with his dad sitting next to him with a fishing pole in hand. And he left us and he went to heaven. And we are devastated.

My husband is numb. My daughter is confused and torn. I am comforting and nurturing them with big tears in my eyes and a heavy heart.

My saving Grace is this. I spoke about God a lot with my Father-in-law. And I know for a fact, without a doubt in my mind, that he was NOT afraid to die. He looked forward to meeting Jesus and shaking his hand and he was anxious to see all the loved ones that went before him. And he had an amazing relationship with God. He was not afraid and there was no "unknown" in his mind. He knew that Heaven awaited him. He knew that it was full of big fish. He knew that it was a place with Golden Roads. No more stress. No more fear. No more loneliness. No more sadness. No more pain. He knew that there was never gloomy days or cold winters. He knew. And this brings me so much joy and so much happiness. I am okay because of this.

He was only 63yrs old. And he lived a full life. It was full of happiness, sadness, stress, fear, laughter, smiles and sometimes pain. He left this world and we are left with empty hearts. In time we will smile. In time we will think of him and not cry. In time. Funny how time will heal us yet time is what we yearn for the most right now. More time. One more minute with him.

We saw him on Monday. We hugged him. We told him we loved him. He did not go to Heaven with any doubts. He was loved.

We need strength and understanding the most right now. Pray for these things for us.

God Speed Dave. You will forever be missed. And thank you for the signs. You know what I am talking about.
Rest in Peace (at least until I get there!) We love you so very much.
Your disobedient and favorite daughter-in-law.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Some things parents should NOT do.

  1. Don't have your child go to the security guard at the mall and tell them that they are lost while you do some kid-free shopping. After you "pretend" to pick up your missing child there is a long list of questions that they will inquire about. Instead give your child a roll of pennies and leave them at the water fountain in the food court.

  2. Don't fall asleep at your child's music concert. Especially if you snore. Other parents will never let their child come to play at your house again. Actually, that isn't such a bad idea.

  3. Asking the teacher to keep your child an extra half hour after school so you can have that extra 1/2 hour of peace is not such a good idea. Some teachers may consider this abandonment.

  4. Don't threaten to take your kid to the doctor for a shot when they are misbehaving. This backfires when they actually do need to see the doctor and they scream and throw a fit.

  5. Don't give your kid money and a note that reads "Please allow so and so to buy some Bud Light and a pack of Marlboro's" because it will not work. And you will feel awkward having to go in yourself after the note didn't work.

"Mothers are fonder than fathers of their children because they are more certain they are their own." ~Aristotle

P.S. I now know why some animals eat their young. Can anyone give me advise on how to handle a "Tweenager?"

P.S.S. You can visit my photo blog at

Saturday, October 11, 2008


I call people pushing me off of the cliff into insanity "episodes!" Sadly, this happens often. I usually resort to a place to gather my thoughts and regroup. Even more sadly, this is usually the toilet. I can lock the door and read a book with my pants around my ankles for minutes if I need too. Usually in this household, the kid or the husband stand outside the door asking me dumb questions but I will either turn on a radio or the blow dryer to block them out. Seriously, can I have a few minutes of peace??????

So, let me give you some examples of these episodes.

The Kid: Okay. Homework sucks. I groan and throw a tizzy fit when it comes time to do homework. The kid is very capable of doing her homework herself however, she likes to flop around like a fish out of water when she should be buckling down. This pisses me off. She knows it pisses me off. She doesn't care that it pisses me off. And then the kid will say "mom, I don't know how to do this, can you help?" Please. She so knows how to do it. But like the nice mom that I am I drag myself away from the computer to help. After figuring out the problem I try to explain it. And do you know what this bratface does. She argues with me. "That's not right MOOOMM!" Are you freaking kidding me??? So, I argue my defense and she argues hers. And we bicker back and forth until I finally get so steamed that I say "Fine! Do it yourself then!!!" and then she whines that she doesn't know how!!! Read this over like 500X's and you will feel my pain. If she didn't know how to do it then how in tarnation can she argue with me that I am wrong???? This is when I head to the toilet with my book. Either that are you can hear me speaking in tongues.

The Husband: My husband believes that he is the guru of everything. He knows all. He is a master of anything. I'm telling you he is not. For instance. His driving sucks balls. He is very aggressive. There is a imprint of my foot on the dashboard and grip marks on the "OhShit" handle. So on the rare occasions that I drive, the geek will criticize my excellent driving skills. Your speeding, your going to slow, your slamming on the brakes, you just hit a curb. Seriously, curbs are nothing more then speed bumps. It's not like I hit an elderly lady or something. But o' guru himself will bitch and moan the entire time I am driving. Most words like "Shut up you loser, or you can drive!" or "I will open your door and push you out if you don't shut up!" will be heard.

Disclaimer: It was not my fault that I almost creamed a Asian man on a bicycle the other day. When there is a flashing sign with a big "X" through a picture of a walking pedestrian that usually means to NOT go across the 6 laned street of bumper to bumper traffic. There should be not translation on this. So had I have actually smoked this dumbass, it would have been his own fault. Duh!

The Job: Okay. You are a mere 22yrs old and are the manager of Target. I get that being smashed the night before or growing out some pubic hair on your face could be more important then your job. However, when I have to perform a task on the register the requires a supervisor's number, don't walk away from me without giving me the numbers so you can go show off your wanna-be mustache to a hot young girl. And certainly do not get your panties in a bunch when I call you back over to give me your stupid number. And don't look alarmed when I finish with the customer and then come marching over to you with fire in my eyes. And don't be at all surprised when I give you a lip lashing from hell. And certainly do not do any of the above to a middle aged lady that is hot flashing so bad that she is releasing more water then the Hoover Dam. And yes. Middle aged women can be very, very bitchy.

The parents: So my parents are having a chili feed this weekend. It is a annual thing that they do. Every single year my husband makes his famous beer chili. We never have any left overs. So don't you think that we will once again make this chili??? Don't call me at 6am to ask me for the 100th time if we are in fact, making the chili. Especially when you called me the night before and I assured you that we will be bringing the chili!!!! We have never NOT brought the chili. Cripes!!

Crazy. I'm telling you. And just so you know....I NEVER do anything to irritate these people. NEVER! :-)

Monday, October 6, 2008

What has the internet taught me????

Remember when you first brought your baby home and you were completley clueless and you said: "I wish they had a handbook for this motherhood thing!"

Well, they do. It's called a laptop.

I have searched the internet for things like "Compulsive disorder" or "Sensitivity disorder" after numerous fights with my daughter about not wearing the $40 pair of jeans I bought her because they feel funny.

I have searched the internet for advise about the "sex talk" with a flipping 8yr old.

I have searched the internet for home remedies to help with my daughters horrible allergies.

I have searched the internet for a atlas, social studies, science, language art and math all to help do impossible homework.

I also searched on ways to make your child buckle down and do her darn homework as well.

I also searched homeschooling. For all of 3 minutes.

Along the way, I found things like:

Ear Wax. I searched for ear candles and came across a youtube video of ear wax. It is so wrong. Sadly, I was intrigued. Gall Darn it....I need a life.

I also came to the conclusion that lighting your farts equals scorched ass/pubic hairs. I have never, ever tried this. I swear to the Holy Bible...I have not. (I did not say that I didn't try to make my husband do it!)

I laughed my ass off at this yoo-hoo. His name is Paul. This guy made me snort.

Ewwww. Have you ever seen a bot fly? Oh my. This gave me the willies. The bad willies too. Not the good ones.

I have searched WebMD too many times and determined that I have every known disease to man. My doctor, sister, husband and friends have banned me from WebMD. I still don't understand why????

Meet Logan. Logan is a true testimant of God. I little boy with more knowledge and faith then most grown adults. I'm in awe over this sweet boy and I am humbled by his innocence. If you don't click on any other of these hyperlinks at least do yourself the pleasure of clicking on this one.

You can listen to one of my favorite rockers...Pink. I love this song. It's just fun and intoxicating.

And you all know I am a prankster. Right? I mean I broke into a friends house (with my hubby and other goof-ball friends) and destroyed their house with mean practical jokes. Don't worry. They never were able to get us back. Ha.Ha. We WON. Ha.Ha. So go watch these characters.

Okay. My arm is tired from all the hyperlinking. Have fun. I know I did. And one last thing I have learned is that I spend too much time on the ole' internet.

Thursday, October 2, 2008

The Secret Life of a Sex Toy Momma.

On any given day, you will find me cooking supper plus doing homework with a table full of girls. The PTO mom who has not learned how to say "no!" My planner is full of tasks, PTO dates, dance schedules, parties and a "to do" list that is very overwhelming. Underneath my mom sweats is a "SuperMom" costume complete with the underwear over the leotard and long, red fake leather boots. On most days my legs are half-assed shaving and my teeth are barely brushed. My car looks like a 7-11 threw up in it. My house is clean but my closets are disastrous. Next to the stove is a stack of mail that desperately needs to be organized and thumbed through. My fridge has a thick layer of muck growing on it. My dogs are begging for a good brush and a much needed bath. I can barely remember my phone number and my cell phone is always ringing a "Super Mario Brothers" tone reminding me to check my calendar or answer a text message. I grocery shop, clean up dog doo, dust the furniture, check the mail, pray for patience, search the Internet for the best ways to remove spots from the carpet and clean toilets.

But I have a dirty little suitcase that is jammed full of pink, blue, black and red vibrators that twist, turn, swirl and circle. There is also a vibrating tongue, a few little contraptions that go "buzz in the night" and an array of "potions" that are named "Nipple Nuki" or "Happy Head!" On this suitcase is a gigantic lock so little eyes cannot see it's contents. Sometimes these contraptions suddenly turn on and you can hear a consistent "buzz" inside this suitcase, buried under clothes and blankets. My stage name is no longer "Mother Guru" but is now "PartywithKrissy!" I get emails all the time that ask me questions like "Our sex life is in a rut, any advise?" or "My vibrator isn't working as well as it once did, is there a warranty?" (which btw...if you have used this vibrator in any way, you cannot return it to me! That's just nasty!"

Sometimes I stand in front of a crowd of women and men and hold these devices in my hands explaining the rules of usage in my brand new jeans, posh shirt and stylish shoes. I always show numerous ways in which to get the up most pleasure. I recommend using "this vibrator with this potion for the biggest orgasm you have ever had!" I explain in depth the human anatomy in the private area. I have pictures. You will not find these pictures in any "Sex Ed" text book.

I recommend places to hide your toys, places to place the key to the furry handcuffs so you don't have an embarrassing moment if the key is misplaced and I strongly recommend cleaning your toys A LOT! I have games that way more fun then Trivia Pursuit. And at the end of the day I stuff my gadgets back into the same suitcase and lock it up tight. But not before I remind myself to remove the batteries so I don't have to wake up at 2am to silence a possessed vibrator. My suitcase has become quite popular and if you see my toting this to my car, you know that I am on my way to make some killer cash by selling dildo's.

And then the next morning I put my ratty old sweats back on and turn myself from "Sex Diva" into "Beat Up Mom!"

Hi. My name is Krissy and I sell sex toys. (Psstt. And I like it!)