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.

Remembering.....

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.

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 it...you'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.

Breathing.

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.

Gratitude.

“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. ;-)

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.
Love,
Your disobedient and favorite daughter-in-law.

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 www.beaubienfamily1.shutterfly.com

Episodes.

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! :-)

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.

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!)

More School Day Drama.

I already told you about the 50lb backpack that my daughter has to carry on her back. Your ideas were great. However, they do not allow rolling backpacks. And you are so right. Their lockers are made for backpacks, coats and shoes. That's it. I cannot tell you how much I want to shove these idiots into this teeny little locker. I would love to ball them up and stuff them into the locker. Grr.

So today my Diva has been waking up with some terrible allergies. It's fall. The leaves are changing and this ultimately means that she will be suffering from a snotty nose and a congested chest. So I opted for her to NOT do P.E. (physical education) today as they are running the mile run. Let me just lay this out for you. Diva has suffered from this since she was basically born. So you could say that I know my daughter, right??? Well. This brilliant school had the nuts to tell ME, her mother, that I needed a doctors note to pull her out of P.E. What the Hell?????

I can labor for over 24hrs giving birth to her. I can worry about college savings. I can feed her every single night. I can do homework with her every single night. I can give her drugs for her allergies every single day. Hell...I can make this girl rub my butt if I wanted to. Which that actually sounds pretty good right now but that is.so.not.the.point.

But I cannot tell the SCHOOL when she can or cannot run a mile run. Never mind the fact that if your kid has a asthma attack and needs an inhaler, she/he cannot carry it with them. So if a child goes into a terrible asthma attack; they need to search for the nurse to get the help they need.

And these crap-hole stink bombs think they can tell me...her mother...that I don't have a say. That I don't have a voice as her own mother. That I need a doctor to tell them that she is NOT by any way, shape or form, able to run a mile run when her chest is already congested. I don't think so.

Suffice to say, there were words. And they were not nice words. And I was one pissed off mom. And if the school has the nerve to tell me what my daughter can or cannot do, there will be cuss words said. And I so don't care that the P.E. teacher is my neighbor. He now knows to not piss with this mommy. Hmmpphh.

Please tell me when the schools decided to become the decision makers in a household? And trust me. I know sometimes they have to step up and make the decisions for kids so that there are positive outcomes. I have seen first hand what a piss-poor parent looks like. But I am not that parent and we live in a small town and they certainly should know by now that I am a very interactive mother. For the love of Moses; I am the go-to girl for the schools. I get the phone calls asking for help. I am on the pathetic PTO. They know who I am. I guess now they know what a B.I.T.C.H I am as well.

Next time they try to tell me what to do with my daughter, I will kick them in their junk. I will break their knee caps and I will give them a swirly. I will march my fat ass into the school with fire blowing out of my ears. I will point fingers and probably swear because that is how pissed I am. I will probably make them eat the school lunch as well....just for shit and giggles.

Now I must go write a vicious letter to the superintendent because if you can believe it...this is not the only issue I have. Luckily, I have a swarm of parents backing me and they are petitioning the school so I must do my part as well. I wish I had the patience to home school. I may not have a choice real soon. Damn. Double damn damn.

The Back Pack Saga.

My daughter has been complaining about her back hurting lately. She rubs Hot Legs (an amazing potion by Partygals) on her back every night. She asks for back rubs. She walks like an old lady sometimes...or to really put it into perspective for you...she walks like me.

My friends daughter has also been complaining. So she decided to weigh the over stuffed backpack that her daughter carries on her back every.single.day. It weighed 51lbs. 51lbs of text books, notebooks, pencils, papers and folders.

I decided to weigh Stinks. 49lbs! This is pretty much her weight. She weighs anywhere between 49-50lbs. She has to walk like the Hunchback of Notre Dame just to keep herself from falling backwards. She has marks on her shoulders from the straps cutting into her skin. Her neck hurts from the strain.

She is basically carrying around HER WEIGHT on her back. Or like giving a piggy back ride to another child her age. Or like carrying half my ass on her shoulders. Basically, one butt cheek.

Speaking of ass cheeks, I have joined the "Biggest Loser" at Stinks dance company. I'm just praying that I am not the only one who gains weight instead of losing it. Does anyone know, is vanilla cookies in lowfat milk is on Weight Watchers???? I said Lowfat Milk. Geesh.