Firecracker Mom!

Rants and Rants and Raves.

2009-09-15T14:29:00.002-05:00

To the people whom have the personality of a tadpole and who have the attitude of Paris Hilton. The world does not revolve around you. I don't care how poor you are and how stressful it is because YOU have made it this way. Not I. I have a decent life and I don't struggle as much as you however, I have worked hard for this. You have done nothing but bitched and complained through life until someone finally hands you what you want in an attempt to shut you the fuck up. So. When you post: "Why is it that some people have it all and others barely scrape by?" on facebook in reference to me and my husband purchasing a 19' Bayliner boat for a mere $1000 through an auction it makes me want you to have nothing until you can overcome your selfish attitude. I didn't realize that by purchasing something for our family was against the rules and we are supposed to reward your family with our earnings instead. Even though you and your wife currently already get more support through the government then most single moms do. And the fact that you carry brand new blackberrys in your pockets, drive newer vehicles, eat out quite often and are able to buy Swans dinners because you don't have to pay cash for your other neccissities thanks to welfare. I have a older phone, a older vehicle then both you and your wife ~~the difference is mine is paid off~~, I buy only the needed amount of groceries and we rarely eat special treats and I never purchase Swan's as it is not in my budget. My daughter wears consignment Gap, Old Navy, Children's Place and Justice clothes while your nearly one year old is dressed only in new, stylish attire. However, you cannot understand why you are always broke. We budget our money, you blow yours. Figure it out ASSHOLE.
Kayne West!!! You are quite possibly the stupidest human being ever. You are as sharp as a beach ball. What exactly did you expect after you shamed a talent like Taylor Swift. She is classy and idolized. You are trashy and disrespectful. This isn't the first time you have had diarrhea from the mouth, and constipation of your thoughts. There isn't enough apologies in the world for us to forget your moment of shame. Remember to cry a river when you don't sell another album ever you moron.
Patrick Swayze, Peace to your soul. You are a hero and you fought a good battle and won the war. Rest now...you deserve it.
My lovely daughter. Today was 80's day at school for spirit week. I lived through the 80's my dear, and I lived through them very well. I wore the bright neon colors in pride with 50 belts wrapped around my waist and my hair was so big it could be seen in space. You were born in the 90's my love. So. When you want my help to convert you into a 80's protege please do not argue with me. I know what it takes sweet thing. You don't know diddly about the 80's and no amount of internet research can share with you the experience I had. I am never helping you again daughter. But I do love you with every ounce of my being.
To the hubby. When the trash is full, you pull out the bag in which the trash lives and you take it outside to the bigger trash can. You DO NOT just lie your garbage on the counter for me to take care of. Because I am a nice wife, I will supply you with ample amounts of lube so you can reconnect with your hand at night for the next few weeks, possibly longer. There are Kleenex next to the lube for clean up. Have fun. Your welcome.
To everyone. Please stop calling me for money. I have given enough to charities and have been very generous in helping others out. But just because you forget to pay your electricity bill doesn't mean that I can come to your rescue. And I am sorry that the Animal Shelters need cash now to help all the abused animals. Trust me. If I could find homes for them all I would as I am a huge animal lover but I must insist that I feed my child and my own two dogs before I feed abandoned ones. I am working on a fundraiser for winter that can help but for now.....you are asking the wrong person. And my dear friends, I will no longer help you. In case you missed it...we are purchasing a business and that means that we will be strapped for cash for the next 5yrs or so. Sorry the gravy train just left the station and you will not be riding for free.
To the laundry: I am sorry you are neglected but I hate you. You really suck up a lot of my time. It's easier to just go buy new then cleaning you. Once again, sorry.
To my floors: Why can't you clean yourself??? You do nothing else. Seriously??? You put the "az" in Lazy.

That's my rants and raves for the month ~~week~~. It's so much easier to come here and bitch instead of taking my aggressions out on the people who are currently pissing me off. It's been a helluva week people. Boo.Yah. Good times. Good times.

Greetings from the dropout blogger.

2009-07-29T17:56:00.005-05:00

(For your amusement....the shorter chick on the right with purple and pink hair is me. At a JONAS BROTHER concert ~~trying to molest one of the brothers~~ with my daughter, niece and sister. Boo.Yah.)

I am so lame. I am disgustingly lame. It is....er...disguisting.
I'll give you a quick glimpse into the life of a ADHD, sometimes OCD and always a PMSing chick.

My summer has consisted of water parks, pools, and huge wedgies from my too tight bathing suit. Eh. I love my fat, dimpled butt. It has started to take on a personality of it's own lately. And sometimes it whistles. Hardy.Harr.Har.

My daughter is still in a very disturbing stage. Not yet menstruating however having disruptive mood swings like....well....her menopausal mother. Some days it is nothing but a recipe for disaster in this household. Me having hot flashes like a crack addict and my daughter bitching out. Oh.Joy. And it hasn't been proven yet however I do believe my husband has a vagina too. Blah.

We are buying a business. I cannot release details as we are still gagged with a confidentiality agreement but we are going to be business owners soon. And I am shitting eggs.

I bought a coach purse (one of a few...unbeknown st to my spouse.) and the shitting thing already started tearing when it was only a month old. That pissed me off and I am currently sharing not.so.nice words with Coach. It tickles me pink. I kinda like to argue.

I should have a master degree in counseling by now considering I have put in my hours of work with the deranged.

To be continued........

I want to be just like my daughter when I grow up.

2009-06-05T13:39:00.002-05:00

Because I am the mother of only one ~~vivacious, over exuberant, sometimes ADHD~~ daughter, I am able to observe things much more then parents with a handful of kids. I am not chasing after a toddler while dealing with pre-hormones at the same time. I am not running from softball with a son to dance with a daughter. You get the point, right???

My daughter goes to a very hip, pretty popular dance company. She is in hip-hop which takes up one night a week. We have a few recitals here and there however are calenders are not filled with dance. At one time, she was also in ballet while hip-hopping her tail end off. But my daughter, being the girl she is, was not thrilled with ballet and it was a bit to slow for her likings. Whatever.

The end of the year recital is a BiG deal. It's extra classes, it's dress rehearsals, it's confusion, it's mind draining. You never get the right information and you always call 10 different moms to find out times. Pictures.Outfits.Shoes.Leotards.Hair.Make-up. It is endless. And most moms are so stressed out that they pop out a few extra grey hairs every year at this time.

Except for me. Oh okay. So you would think that being solely responsible for only ONE kid and ONE Dance group and only 2 Dances and Outfits, I would get my poop in a group. We are talking about me though. So. Nuff' said. I missed a few practices because I was too busy yapping my big ole mouth instead of using my ears. Nice.

Anyway. As I sit through 2 THREE HOUR recitals tomorrow, I will be reminded as to WhY we do NOT allow our daughter to be in more then 2 activities at one time. I see worn out mothers, sleeping through the recital. I see other mothers in hives. I see mothers chasing after toddlers while trying to order their T-Shirts. I see mothers scream at their kids because the pressure is TOO MUCH. I see fathers balancing the check book and scratching their head. I see fathers pacing around the halls, confused as to what they should be doing. I see fathers balancing children in their arms, and carrying flowers to hand to their daughters and instructors after the show. I see mayhem. And I sit reading a book.

Some mothers are so full of baloney they should be renamed Oscar Mayer. As the dance parents join together and gossip, you hear a lot of bull shit. "My daughter wants to be a professional dancer, so the $500 a month we spend now is just establishing her dream." Another mother butts in with "My daughter wouldn't be happy if she didn't have activities scheduled every.day. So the 5 days a week spent running to practices are so worth it." Another mother who needs to excuse her madness jumps in "Oh. Totally. It's good to be busy now days. They won't be in so much trouble as they get older." And me? I sit and snicker at the shit that is spilling out of their mouth.

Never mind the fact that the $500 a month spent on your daughter's activities are paid by a credit card....because they cannot afford it otherwise. Actually, the dance center actually have a credit card you can apply for. Heh. And forget the fact that they cannot be approved for the credit card so their outstanding bill to the dance center is going to collections. And lets not discuss how family time is spent in a car and you or your daughter ~~actually, the whole family~~hasn't spent a day at the family table since dance started. And that these moms whom have more then one kid, have not seen their son's softball game in years. Or how about the fact that their daughters grades in school are on the decline because homework isn't getting done and studying happens in the 15min car ride to dance. And let's not discuss how their marriages are suffering because of lack of time together. Those are mute points.

You see. It's high school all over again. Each mom has to have the best of the best and their daughters ~~this usually excludes son's, which is heart breaking~~ have to be the best of the best for their reputation and popularity to shine. I am not making this up. They spend their life savings on tuition's. And they don't bat an eye at it. Sure. They sit together and bitch about how their husbands "just don't understand" and most of them are pouring their hearts out to each other about how they are not separated or divorced. And they cannot understand "WHY" this has happened to me. At the same time, they are using their cell phones to arrange drop off and pick up times for their sons softball game. They call strangers begging for them to usher their son to his one, lonely softball game. *sigh*

The dance studio does offer payment options. And they do offer to do some community service that would help pay for the cost of classes. So. These mothers rush day to day to work at a car wash, baseball game, walk a thons, ecetera to help lower the monthly bill. They do not factor in the gas and the fact that they are truly, in a nutshell, working a second job to support their daughter's extra curricular activities.

Limitations. It's a simple word. It's easy to achieve if you have a backbone. Is it a sin to tell your children "NO" once in awhile?? Or to put away your high school drama and focus on menopause? Do you really need to let your children do whatever they hell they want???

So glad I am really good at saying NO, although my husband isn't so happy about this.

Just when I think things are going to be better.....

2009-05-20T22:16:00.002-05:00

This year has sucked monkey balls for us. If I want to get technical I could say that the last few years have been rather crusty to us however, this year has been, at times, unbearable.

In October, I lost my father-in-law.....of whom I miss daily.

On January 1st...my husband lost his job.
Honestly...we were prepared for the job issue. Obviously we couldn't plan for the death but the job thing wasn't a big huge surprise. The company he worked for sucked ass and I knew it was a dead end road the first week of him working there. We started a strict budget that allowed us to put away enough money to suffice us if need be. He stuck it out, lost his job and we began the hunt for his new employment and started diligently investigating the avenue of owning our own business.

Fast forward to now. The economy sucks just like everything else in South Dakota. I don't mean to be bitter however, South Dakota has NoT been fair to us. Jobs are slim pickings and when there is a good job, it has a mound of unemployed individuals fighting for it. Of course, this allows the company to pay this individual pennies on the dollar and because they are greedy shit heads, they use the crappy economy to their advantage. I couldn't lie to you and say I wouldn't do the same thing though. Bygones.

We are totally on the fence about opening our own business only because it is just scary right now. Granted, things are looking more hopeful at Wall Street but that could be because of the band aide effect and in a few more months, years, whatever; we could see the economy hitting rock bottom once again.

The situation is currently making me a little nervous. All of it. Every bit of our lives right now is making me shaky. I refuse to give up on Sioux Falls only because I couldn't imagine pulling my daughter out of her beloved school and throwing her to the wolves at a different school. She is a tween. She is going to be in middle school, which lets face it, 6th grade was brutal for us all.

And on top of all that, we need to add to our stress and worry about home improvements that have to be done this year. Otherwise, we may be without a roof over our heads, literally. The roof needs replaced, the furnace has seen it's better days and some cosmetic changes are in order. *sigh*

I thought about working out so I could dance on a pole somewhere. Truth be told, I won't exercise. I keep saying "tomorrow" and tomorrow always comes and goes away. And my ass cheeks keep expanding.

Don't jump to conclusions. We are not drowning in debt only because we don't have any debt, thank you Dave Ramsey. And we are not suffocating in worry, because we are still okay. We are concerned about moving and we are concerned about the job market yet we will survive. We always do.

Am I whining?? Hell yes I am whinging!!!! You couldn't read this and NOT understand my whining!!!! Am I asking for sympathy???? Der....I am a bonafide attention getter. So your sympathy will be welcomed.

To top off the madness.....this weekend we are heading to my deceased father-in-laws favorite fishing spot to remember. Simply remember a great man who died way to young. And it isn't going to be easy for me or anyone else for that matter.

Truly, what I really need is some prayers. Pray for the job market and for all the families who have been effected by the economy. Pray for peace in our family. Pray for my sanity and for me to get some spunk back, as I have been losing it a lot lately. Pray that we will finally see some light at the end of our tunnel. Pray for my family as we miss a loved one very much this weekend, and everyday.

Please don't think that we need donations are something absurd like that. We do not need anything other then prayers. There are many people worse off then us that could use your donations. Truly, we have been so good about money lately that I give us big pat's on the back. We are survivors. I'm just starting to see things through a different perspective now. It could be another 6 months before my husband finds a job. And that is what makes me piss myself.
*sigh*

What's a Cracker like me been doing???

2009-05-08T10:43:00.003-05:00

Well first and foremost, I am dwelling in self pity as I realize that I have become a official blogger drop out. And that I can claim this site as DOA (dead on arrival.)

However, as much as I have considered just closing it down, I cannot force myself to do so. Because I don't like failing, even though I should be used to it by now. And secondly, I like to come here and vent my anger. Better here then towards my family, I say.

I have been busy and busy is good for a nerd like myself. I have been........

Doing some partygal parties. Nothing much. Just as favors to my sex addicted friends whom need that extra thrill in their lives. Buzz.Buzz.
Taking ownership of this house again and punished it with some serious spring cleaning. The garage now harbors a boat, car and motorcycle instead of trash, mice and things that should have been deemed "toxic."
Whooping it up with friends and family.
Drinking a lot of wine. What??? It's good for the heart. Don't judge me.
Cussing out a Priest while exhibiting some of my nasty road rage. I have re-taught myself some prayers and begged for forgiveness.
Spanked my husband. Just checking to see if anyone is listening.
Spanked the dogs because they are holy terrors.
Doing some remodeling in the house. I am the proud owner of new stainless steel appliances in which I adore.
Flirting with salesmen to get some descent discounts for said appliances.
One of the salesmen got violently ill from my said flirting.
Yard work. Well some until I got pissy and just called a lawn care company to control the raging weeds in my yard.
Had a vicious cold and therefore convinced myself that I did indeed have the swine flu. After all, I have been pigging out lately. Oink.Oink.
Banned any sex with my husband because he wasn't cleaning the proper way while I fought off the ~~swine flu.~~
Convinced my daughter to pick up all the dog piles outdoors. This worked until I realized she threw all the dog crap in the neighbors yards. And for a side note. I cannot stand these neighbors.
Been on a few road trips but nothing to write home about.
Had approximately 400 temper tantrums about home improvements trumping vacations.
Threatened to burn the house down about 500X's.
Played computer games instead of doing laundry.
Guests have been ravishing our home lately.
4 trillion pounds of homework.
Texting until my fingers bled.
Singing karaoke.
~~badly~~
Behaved like a toddler.
Wet my pants a billion times from sneezing.
Definitely have had some serious ADHD.

The End.

I wanna win OhMommy's GiveAway.

2009-04-16T22:57:00.001-05:00

Ode to my daughter.....

2009-04-08T10:14:00.002-05:00

Dear sweet ~~hormonal~~, lovable girl....

You are so devious at times that I could just punch myself right in the kisser. However, in the very next second, you look at me with those beautiful blues and pouty lips and I melt into you once again. You are devious because you know that your mother is a complete sucker for you.

I can be mad as hell one minute and then consumed by your charm the next. Your charisma and personality radiate love, compassion, fun, laughter and wickedness. I don't know a person who isn't in love with your humor and quick wit. You are your mothers daughter.

This hormonal stage is going to make me pull out every strand of hair out of my head and I fear your dad is dead serious about a chastity belt ~~he's been on ebay searching~~ and bars on your window. Your eye rolling and mouthiness has gotten you in more trouble these past few months then ever before. Your determination to fight with me or to argue is certainly going to land you grounded for life and me in a padded cell. And even though you have heard the word and know the word "NO", you have coincidentally forgotten what it means. Your manners must have been thrown out the window and replaced with crabbiness.

Yet. You still have those killer eyes that make me weep. And you still have your dad and mom wrapped around your little pinky finger. I won't even get into your grandparents and aunts and uncles because we all know that to them, you can do no wrong.

I have watched you sleep like so many nights before. You are growing up and I don't like it much. I miss my chubby little girl with the sweetest of hugs and kisses. You still give the best hugs ever, but I don't have chubby little legs wrapped around my waist any longer. You are almost as tall as me now. Yet I am so excited for your future. I know with all my heart that you are going to make a difference. You have so much light in you that sometimes it's blinding.

I know that you are full of wisdom however, you do not know all. I argue and fight with you over the stupidest of things because you have a sassy-frass attitude that you are always right. You got that from your father.

A menopausal mom and a hormonal daughter are like oil and water but a mom's love for her daughter is a bond that I will never share with anyone else. You are my girl.....

I can sit here and complain about all your hormonal episodes and trust me....there are days that I do. But today....I sit here with tears in my eyes and hurt in my heart.

Today...I read of a sweet baby girl that went to go live with Jesus. She left her weeping parents behind so she could breathe freely and struggle no more. I am so stingy...because I wish she was still here with her parents. Although I don't know the hurt they have, I can understand it. Because I could never imagine living a day without you.

And as I sit here, I am listening to your dads pager and I hear of a baby that is in full cardiac arrest and I can sense the panic in the EMT's voices as they try so desperately to breath life back into a infant. A baby. And my heart is in my stomach and my tears are running down my face. The fear and loneliness these parents must feel right now is so scary to me. I can only pray that God wraps his Heavenly arms around these parents and angels.

So. Today my sweet ~~hormonal~~ daughter. I will not argue with you about wearing makeup ~~even though you will not wear makeup in 5th grade~~ and I will not argue about buying you a bra ~~story for another day~~. I will just sit here and remember how lucky I am and how blessed my life is and I will cry for these families. Yet I will always be grateful for you sweet girl.

I love you my skeeter butt munchkin butt......
Mom.

True to yourself???

2009-04-07T15:45:00.002-05:00

"The best way to drain life out of yourself is to have a death grip on your true personality. And if you have never failed at something, then you are NOT trying hard enough."

Do you ever have to deal with the "complainers" or the "back stabbers" or the "whiners" in your life? Or my Gawd....don't you want to smack them straight in the face hole???

I mean seriously. Complain. Groan. Poor Poor Me. And yet. They make No effort to change or to sacrifice just to make things right again. Don't you wanna kick them in the head???

I get down too. There are some really dark times that I have drudged through. I have cried rivers and been on bended knee many times begging and pleading for strength, relief, time, etc. And you bet, I wiped my nose on many a friends shirts and laid across the laps of my family while they console a sobbing bag of mess. I have sat in the sunniest of pastures but seen nothing but dark, gloomy clouds. I have had to walk through the sand to get to the ocean.

I am all about metaphors today.

And I have had to hold my head up and plant a big, sappy smile on my face to just try and pull myself up. And I know that people were sick and tired of hearing me cry and whine. And I don't want to be the one everyone hates to be around. C'mon. I'm a firecracker. I can't be the dreary butt of the group.

And some people did smack me in the face hole and told me to suck it up.

I swear....they did.

But I shoved donuts in my mouth and pretended like I was happy and then I went to the doctor and got put on some happy pills. And they are good. And when you drink alcohol with them, you see little naked leprechauns doing head stands while singing "The Star Spangled Banner."
And then you laugh and laugh and you feel soooo much better however, nobody else sees those silly little men so you sorta look like you just snorted fairy dust. Careful. This can cause some concern.

Anywho. The point to this delusional, effed up story is you make the most of your life. I'm tired of the downers. I feel like shooting them in the foot. I'm sick of the crabs, the cocky asses, the depressed and oh so deprived of life. And I'm not going to deal with it anymore.

"I'm not gonna take it....NO...I ain't gonna take it....I'm not gonna take it anymoreeeee..........."

(name that tune. Seriously, name that tune with the singer bc I forgot who it is.)

To Spoil or Not to Spoil???

2009-04-02T08:27:00.002-05:00

Sheylee on the left and her twin-friend Emily.

My child is spoiled.

She doesn't act spoiled, because she is 11yrs old and nothing is never good enough at this age however, she doesn't brag to all her friends that she has "this" or she has "that."

Some of her friends are poverty stricken. Some of them is because of their own selfish needs, others because they have more then one child and little income. Some because the economy has eaten them alive. Stupid Economy.

I'll tell you right now. My daughter is in dance, will start guitar lessons once she is ready (the instructor feels she isn't ready yet.), has a Nintendo DS, a Nintendo Game Boy (a gift from her Aunt), a Wii (technically, that was my gift but I never wanted one so I'm pretty sure it was my husbands gift.), a cell phone and now a PSP. She has nice clothes and shoes to wear, even though she won't wear them because they feel funny and only wears the scurvy clothes. Bygones.

She has two dogs, one was a present to her that she adores and she truly is Sheylee's dog. She has friends over constantly. We take her places often. We don't do many trips but she has been to Orlando, Fl.

I'm not the only one who spoils her. My parents, Hubs parents, my sister, my sister in law, friends, etc. She is a very loved little girl. Most of my friends have all boys, so they have adopted and spoiled my daughter. This doesn't bother me because the more love, the better rounded.

But I'm afraid we spoil our daughter too. Not just me. It's we. My husband has a hard time saying "no" sometimes too......even though he will deny it. They went to Walmart the other night without me and she came home with a new digital camera. And note. This has already been taken away because of her eye rolling attitude. And I was the meany who did it. Proudly.

We discipline her. She suffers consequences often. We take things away. We ground her and we stick to our guns. She doesn't do terrible things, she is a mouth, but only pushes it so far before she realizes she is tipping on the edge. Usually, she is warned by the evil mom look that I have grown so accustomed to doing. She is a preteen and I understand the phases.

I can say this. I was spoiled too. My mom was very poor as a child. Her dad hauled garbage and many times her Christmas presents and shoes came from trash. She had a fantastic childhood however, she was ridiculed and humiliated by classmates because of her ragged attire. So. She also endured a very abusive relationship to my real sperm donor ( I have no contact with the mother fucker.) Abuse to the worst degree. So. When she finally got the nerve to leave him (he never went to jail even though he through my mom through a plate glass window once. Laws were different then.) and found my new dad (our hero), she started to try and compensate for all the harsh times we had. Oh. And after her divorce, she was severely stalked by a lunatic and would sleep with a shot gun and throw us in closets when he broke into the house several times a week. That's a story for a later day though.

Anyway, I was spoiled. So was my sister. I can say this. I was way mouthier to my mom then Sheylee is to me. I am more of the punisher then my mom ever was. I knew how to irritate snot right out of her. Looking back. I laugh. Now. I cry.

My dad. Not so much the wiener. Oh no. I got a D in high school and I was grounded for 9 weeks. No phone. No friends. No nothing. And I'll be damned if it wasn't the full 9 weeks until he un-grounded me. Ugh.

I like to think that we are better about consequences then my parents. Mainly because my mom didn't do anything and my dad over-consequenced. Yet. I never once got a spanking. Isn't that odd. I was a mouthy little bitch to my mom. I should have sat with soap in my mouth for years. I should still be burping bubbles.

I don't like to say that I am my mother. None of us do. However. I am my mother but I learned more from her then she will ever know. And all those times that she cursed me and told me I would have a daughter "Just like you" I secretly knew it was the truth and braced for this day. Haha momma. I did listen.

Regardless. I turned out pretty okay. I was never rude or disrespectful to anyone. I have a kind heart and a need to help others. My daughter already has many wonderful qualities that will get her along in life just fine.

I may not be lucky.....but I have my blessings. And I'm hoping that my daughter has a kid just like her when she is older too.

"Mirror, Mirror on the wall......I am my mother after all." :0)

Patience is the virtue....Blah.Blah.Blah.

2009-03-31T08:56:00.002-05:00

Today I feel like a lady of not so many words yet a lot on my mind. My tongue wants to shout out profanities in every single language, and I don't know why.

I don't feel like getting into my trauma ~~drama and hell~~ but I want to say this. I want to yell this from the top of my lungs. Patience sucks. How long do you have to wait until patience just turns into forever?

And just what is normal really? Each of us have our own perspective on normal? Hell. I think, at times, that I am normal. Then I take the blood pressure cuff off of my neck and inhale again and realize that, Nope, I am certainly not normal. But at least my blood pressure is good.

But is it okay for someone else to call me odd? Because I live a different life? And because your life is boring and not as interesting as my life of stories filled with poop, stress, poop, puke, poop, kid, poop, husband, poop, dogs, etc.

And back to the patience. Why do I feel just when good things are going to happen, it all takes the wrong turn right into the city dump? I seriously feel that at times, my "thinking" positively leads to negative things. I gotta be honest, I feel seriously jinked at times. Is that normal?

I may not be lucky.....but I am blessed. I have my family, my husband, my sweet daughter whom I adore, my friends, my faith, my angels. But sometimes I still feel hopeless. I know my blessings and are so very thankful but I still cannot shake the feeling of discouraged and ill fated.

Why does contentment feel impossible for me? I never feel content. I always feel edgy, agitated, skittish, ecetera.

I am tired. I admit. I have been sick. I need a few hundred beers and I could use a good day of happiness. I could use some alone time. I could use a whole lot of something but I don't know what because I am fidgety. And this post is all over the place and it makes no sense and that is EXACTLY how I feel.

Time. Patience. Virtue. Ugh.

Oh Shit balls.

2009-03-26T08:04:00.002-05:00

First and foremost. I have mono.

*applause all around for the sick bitch.*

Second, my loins, my muscles, my tendons, my hair. It all hurts. Why? Because of that evil ho Jillian and her 20minute workout. Owwwwiiiieeee.

I am a warrior and I am gonna work through the burn again today. Maybe. Well. We'll see. This is where I need some super dooper support.

Too bad my blog has gone from a solid "C" straight to a "F". I still have my friends that frequent though and they are pushing me through. Read the comments of my last post. Stlbee....she is there for me. Thank you Boo-Boo McFoo. She knows my pain.

Have I ever told you that I am a baby when it comes to pain?

My daughter, well, she is making me age in dog years now. Sassy McSassa Frass is grounded for oh....I don't know.....a lifetime. The child, whom is boarder line OCD, ADHD and could possibly have some sort of sensory disorder just HAD to wear gaucho's on a MAYBE 40* day. I pick my battles. Then, as the child entered the windy outdoors that had a bite to it, she complained and ironically, it was all my fault for allowing her to wear them.

I got peeved and told her to walk to school (It's 3 freaking blocks people). She questioned child abuse and was once again, grounded for a second lifetime. As a not so patient mother, in menopause, with mono and has her loins on fire, you may just not want to fuck with me. She doesn't get it. Never has.....probably never will.

I curse my mother for saying: "I hope someday you have a daughter that acts just like you."
That is what I call child abuse. My mom should be behind bars.

I should be sleeping, yet I refuse to sleep my days away which in turn means I won't get better. Double edged sword thing. I should go put on my support bra ~~poor thing doesn't stand a chance with my boobies~~ and cuss at Jillian for 20 minutes however, I just don't feel like it yet. I said yet. There is still a chance.

I should go shower, but for what. I'm just going to put on my hot blue yoga pants, halter top and snugglie and go embarrass the hell out of my daughter for making my life difficult by visiting her at school. And so you can get the full visual, my mid section resembles a tube of dough that exploded.

Mama can be a bitch too.

And. I'm gonna disconnect the phone's and turn off the cell phone because even though most people know of my current diagnoses of mono, it doesn't hinder them from calling in favors. So. Poo to you people. This is my free pass to lounge and not do a damn thing for you. Have fun taking care of your own dilemmas.

I'm now going back to bed.....just to rest my eyes ~~snore like a mother effer~~ even though I don't want too. My eyelids are not cooperating and the toothpicks are breaking under the stress.

All of this....before 8am. This is what I wake up for???? Grrrrr.

To be somewhat positive, my pre-hormonal daughter got a great report card again. So. I might limit her grounding to 20yrs. She better be on best behavior tonight though.

The new me.

2009-03-25T11:00:00.003-05:00

It sucks to be ~~somewhat~~ beautiful ~~not even close~~. I have decided to take a new track on life and well.....it's killing me.

Exercise. Ugh. I decided to try the Biggest Loser bitch trainer that has made 500lb humans weigh 100lbs. It is 20 minutes of vigorous exercise. By vigorous I mean for 20 minutes you don't breath and sweat pollutes your eyes. But through research, this is the fastest way to lose the fat rolls. You go full bore for shorter amount of times. If I choose to be positive, I could say that it is just 20minutes of my day but my negative side is saying that my lungs exploded and my heart pounded out of my chest. And. I'm pretty sure my groins are on fire. And not the good kinda fire either. But I'm giving it a try. I'll do it again tomorrow, I hope, and see if I can lose the 20lbs in 30 days that it promises. I'm already dreading tomorrow. *sigh*

Alli weight loss system. Well. If you don't mind pooping slime out of your anus then this is the stuff for you. I talked with my Doctor and I talked to my pharmacist and it isn't harmful if used accordingly. It doesn't even make my other meds react differently and make me all whacked out. And I have already lost some weight because I shit it out of my bunghole. It isn't pretty, but it shows results. And yes....I do everything the easy way.

Better eating habits. Well. Let's just say I'm trying. Okay. Move on now.

Drinking water. I used to hate the taste of water. Like gag on a glass of water. Which isn't so rad when your kidneys are less then perfect and you sometimes pee syrup. Diet coke doesn't help with the syrup peeing either. However, our stellar new fridge with a water dispenser and filter makes me love water and I actually prefer it over a can of pop. Not a fountain diet coke, I can never find another love like that, but I still spoil myself once in awhile with it and I still drink more water then pop. And my kidneys are thanking me by peeing a nice pretty color of yellow instead of bright orange or dark mud. This is good.

The problem. I'm pretty sure I have mono. How do I know. Because everyday I have to take a nap. And I despise naps. I wake up like a crabby bore. It's ugly. I don't like wasting my days away. I would rather be proactive. But my energy nil and every little thing is exhausting. Oh. And because my nephew had mono just a few weeks ago and I was kissing my little munchkin, drinking from the same cup and snuggling my little bug. My glands are not swollen, I don't have a fever and I don't feel sick. Just physically drained. It could be fibromyalgia, it could be my thyroid, it could be the lack of caffeine. It could be I'm getting old. WebMd said it was an aneurysm.

Or maybe I'm just trying to get some sympathy from my husband and he'll buy me that beautiful ring I have had my eye on. Hmmmmmmmm............

I need you. I need you to tell me how much you hate exercise and how much you do it anyway. I need you to push me forward and keep me going. I need ideas. I need you to tell me how to forever change my ways. Not just a temp thing like I have done in the past. Help me. Love me. Help me.

Oh, and I got a new darker dye job with awesome highlights and a cut. I love it.

Can I have some guilt with a side of throw up?

2009-03-21T10:25:00.002-05:00

Let me lay it out for you. I question my motherhood often. Not because I am the mom that abuses her child or neglects her or wishes her away.

I love, adore and inhale the scent of my beautiful daughter everyday. Her beauty and intelligence is outstanding. Her zest for life is intoxicating. Her sweetness brings me to tears. My heart bleeds fear just thinking about ever losing her. I am in tears just thinking about that right now. She is my favorite person in the world.

My daughter is exceptional. Her heart is big and full of love. Her smile is contagious. Her laughter is infectious. Everyone who meets her loves her. I'm not over bragging either. It is the God's honest truth. To know her is to love her.

She has her sides that make me wanna gauge out my eyeballs with a hot toothpick. But I don't feel like talking about them right now.

Except for her sensitivity. And this is where I feel like a shithole mother ~~just one reason~~

I like that she is sensitive and not a cold hearted bitch. I like that she cares enough to have a delicate heart. But on the flip side. I want her to not care so much of what others think of her. She is hurt daily by friends and classmates. Over things that are really not a big deal. But to her, they are.

So. Sometimes I tell her that she needs to grow a tougher skin. To not care about those other fifth grade snots that tell her she looks like Willy Wonka when she cuts her beautiful hair chin length. To tell the winches to shut their pie holes. I try to encourage, yet there are times that I sorta look like I don't care about her problems. Because if I make a big deal out of it, she will too. I talk to her about it....I just don't dwell on it.

And then if that isn't concerning enough, there is last night. I went out. It was bunko night where me and a few girls play a fun game of dice and then get snookered. I had that and another b'day party to attend. Let's just say that after my third sex on the beach with cream, I was feeling numb.

And then my phone starts vibrating like a pimped out dildo. My daughter is with my sister, spending time with them so she could attend my nieces b'day party. My sister is harsher then us with her kids and sometimes this sends Sheylee into a crying rampage. She isn't mean, just has a different way of parenting. To each thy own, right? They were fighting. I was drunk. My sister was mad at Sheylee and Sheylee was hurt and I was in the toilet throwing up after 14 sex on the beaches with cream. ~~try a sex on the beach with half and half in it....you will fall in love~~

*note-The glasses were small even for a ompaa-loompa.*

And so I am in the bathroom, puking out the contents from my stomach, which was so bad that I'm pretty sure the last Thanksgiving dinner came out of my nostrils. And I tell my kid to toughen up (my sister had a valid reason to be upset but she doesn't need to yell either.) and to go to bed. I call my parents, whom only live 5 minutes away, and make arrangements for them to go get my daughter in the morning. My daughter, whining like a stuck pig, is still on a rampage. I'm now throwing up last Easter dinner and it isn't looking any prettier.

I'm don't ever seem to get a break. Getting a cell phone for her was the worst thing to do. I'm feeling mighty fine (besides the turkey leg getting lodged in my throat from Christmas time), having a good time, or was at least, and wanted to continue to have fun. Fuck. I deserve it people.

So. I told my daughter: "Mom is drunk. Mom is having fun with her friends. Mom needs alone time too. Mom needs to enjoy a night without drama. Now go to bed or you are grounded until my first grandchild is produced. And since you are my only child and will be grounded, that means forever. Good night. I love you. Toughen up."

And I didn't get another text. And today, with my hangover polluting my thinking and my toilet being flushed every 2 minutes, I feel like a shit hole mom, yet again.

Mama was drunk. Mama put drinking before her spawn. Mama is a fuck face.

The End.

*note* My husband was equally drunk and texting back and forth to her too. As always, he had more patience. After my text. She didn't text him either. And she isn't texting me back today or answering her phone. I'm a bad.bad.mom.

Boo to me. I already know.

I gotta go throw up now.

New Friends.

2009-03-16T09:26:00.002-05:00

Today is 67* outside with no wind. It is beautiful. It is gorgeous. It is my kind of weather.

Yet. I am restless. I am bored. I'm depressed for no good reason. I should be outside enjoying my weather. But I don't wanna. I could be cleaning my house with the windows open. But I don't wanna. I could go for a walk while jamming to my ipod. But I don't wanna. I could be shopping. But I feel guilty. I could be cleaning out the garage. But hell no. I'm blogging. But truthfully, I don't wanna.

I'm in a mood where nothing will make me happy. So. I turned to my friends. I sent out a text that read:

"Dear Friends. I am bored and restless. And because you are my friends you have no choice but to hear me whine. Trust me. I've heard you whine a thousand times before too so it is time to repay. Pity me."

I'm not dumb enough to think that there would be a pity party for me. I tried deeming today "Krissy-Pa-Looza" knowing full well it would be more like "Krissy-gets-Poopedon". But it was worth a shot. Here are just a few of my replies.

To: Krissy

From: Friend A

"I'm tired and don't wanna work so shut up. Go clean my house."

My response:

Fine. Just fine. Fine.Fine.Fine. I need new friends. (she totally knows I'm kidding.)

Her response:

haha. LMAO.

To: Krissy

From: Friend B

"Freak!"

(She has been my BFF since middle school. I'm used to her abuse.")

My response:

I'm deeming you a monkey's ass.

Her response back:

Good. Go get me some banana's.

My response back:

I'll get you banana's alright and shove them up your butt hole.

To: Krissy

From: Friend C

"Go get your eyebrows waxed because I have been noticing a uni-brow growing on your forehead.

My response:

I like having a Caterpillar on my forehead. It keeps my eye's warm.

To: Krissy

From: Friend D

"Life is a box of chocolates, so go eat some."

My response:

I'm on a freaking diet but thank you for making me hungry now.

To: Krissy

From: Friend E

"You are such a idiot."

My response:

You need a cat scan.

To: Krissy

From: Friend F

"Here's your pity. Piss off."

My response:

Wipe my ass! Nut lick-er.

(another long time friend and this is normal.)

To: Krissy

From: Friend G

"Krissy. Stop your depression or I will smack you upside your head. Do you understand me? Now go give your hubby a BJ"

My response:

You are such a crappy friend. And what fun is servicing him for me????? Duh

(Again. Normal.)

There were more words said. Finally I text them all and said.

"You all suck eggs. Boo.Too.You. I need new friends....ASSES. :-)"

And they all responded back with:

"We love you. You always make us laugh. You are hilarious. What would we do without you?"

So. Even though I needed the pick-me-up.....I made them all happier. You are probably thinking that I should feel good about making them have a better day and YOU.ARE.WRONG. I want to be the happy one today.

Well. Actually. I'll tell you that it was fun. So. It did make me happy. But I am not telling them that. And actually. I am so damn lucky to have these geeks in my life.

Here's my favorite pic of the week. It is my daughter. And I took the shot. She is my guinea pig. But a cute one.

Mental Awareness Time.

2009-03-09T22:31:00.002-05:00

Let's face it. I'm mental. I am aware that I am high strung. I am a worry ~~tumor~~wart and I am very aware that I am borderline OCD and ADHD. This is the short list.

Nonetheless....it is all well maintained. I am learning to cope with my anxiety and stress. It is worse then counting calories or in my case, popping an Alli pill every meal and pooping out lard. But mental wellness is something that can be obtained by a hard work and the want to live life without stress controlling your every thought.

Not only is stress exhausting and restraining; it is harmful to your health as well. Did you know that stress can cause:

stomach disorders
intestinal disorders
nerve disorders
heart issues
skin issues
liver disorders
and so on and so on...........

Did you know that stress can decrease your life span drastically? Did you know that stress is the number one cause of death???? This is not a fib. This is the facts. Stress can kill you and is more of a threat then heart attacks. You.Need.To.Listen.

First. You must identify the cause of stress. The list can be long. It can include money (the number one reason for most humans anxiety and depression), jobs, kids, family, marriage, friends, etc. You are more then likely worried about more then one thing. But. Like a block of ice, chip off the biggest reason first and once you have resolved it, tackle the next one on your list.

Sometimes it is easier for people to start at the smallest reason and move to the biggest worry. It feels empowering when you somehow manage to control your LIFE. This is important. This is detrimental to you living a better life.

For instance, let's use me as a Guinea Pig. Or just a pig if you wish. I can handle the truth.

I worried a lot about money. Money to me is evil. It causes so much trauma and drama and is just plan evil. It reeks evilness. It is evil-riffic.

So. I realized that my biggest worry is by all means, finances. I stress about retirement, about college, about the economy, about the prices of groceries. The prices of gas. The whole kit and caboodle. It was so overwhelming to me. You can never have enough. EVER. And for me, it was out of control. I needed to find peace with it.

Second. Think about the worst thing that could ever happen. Okay. This could be a multitude of things however, I thought about the single most worst thing to happen. That would be to lose my house. My comfort zone. There is nothing worse then that. Even though we aren't even close to losing our home and it isn't really an option, I started here. Because, the unknown bothers the shit out of me. The "what ifs" of life. What if the economy got so bad we lost our home? It isn't that big of a stretch when you watch the world news and you see the depression (don't get me started....this is not a recession! Our country is witnessing a full blown depression and we might as well get used to the word.) So after giving myself an ulcer at the pure thought of this, I had to move on to step three. I will forewarn you......this step was the hardest for me because my brain raced about the worst case scenarios. I was gulped up by anxiety. And I had to simply breath and meditate for a few minutes to focus on the task on hand. It did help.

Step Three. Face it. Man....I said that step two was the hardest for me but that was because my stress was eating me alive. In this step, I had to stop being a pansy. It was time to own up to my problems and handle them. In this step....I had to focus on the positive. My fears and anxieties were "what ifs" and so I had to prepare myself. So. I thought of the things that I would have to deal with. For instance. If we lost our house, I would have to find a new place that would allow pets. Scary. I could not give up my furbabies. Not.An.Option. So. I secretly looked in the paper and saw that there are houses to rent and apartments to rent that allow dogs. Even gigantic dogs like mine. Then I focused on my daughter. The stress this would cause for her. And as much as it would hurt and as hard as it would be, she would survive if we survived. And I would be willing to do whatever I could to help her cope. I am capable of that. And then I moved on to ownership and my feeling of defeat if this happened. And as much as my ego would be bruised, I would still be alive and kicking and my life wouldn't be over because my ego was bruised. Ecetera, Ecetera, Ecetera.

And then. The most amazing thing happened. I stopped worrying about the "What if" because it isn't as bad as it sounds. For me. I could cope. And then I started realizing that we are lucky because it is far fetched. And as much as the economy is failing, we have a low house payment and it is not killing us financially. And we can 100% afford this house on half of the income we have. And we don't have any home improvement loans on our house. We don't have second mortgages. We are in a great position to never lose this house. And then I remembered that this house is a savings account in a sense. We have some good equity. And if worse comes to worse....we always have that.

What happened. When I was consumed with fear of the "what ifs" and the anxiety it caused, I wasn't seeing clearly. I was too worried to see clearly. And once I realized that I would survive the worst case scenario, I cleared my vision. And I started thinking rationally. And all of a sudden, my biggest fear became a laughable thought.

I am going to post more about mental health awareness. Not because I am a expert but more because I am a victim. And I am learning slowly to become a survivor. And I want to share my thoughts and experiences with you. To help you. To fight with you. This isn't a witty post. There is no humor. It can be quite boring. But it may just help you. This is only the beginning stages but trust me....to go to bed one night with one less thing to worry about is uplifting. And always remember, that every problem can be resolved.

To be continued.........................

It really is all about poop.

2009-03-05T19:19:00.002-06:00

NOTE: If you have a weak stomach and gag at the mention of poop.....keep reading. I don't want to be the only one gagging.

Let me set this straight. I hate the word poop. I hate the word fart. I know I use it in my vocabulary often but I am usually typing it. Not saying it. I spit when I say poop. It's the way my mouth forms that makes me shower whoever or whatever is in front of me.

And. I hate poop and farts. I gag. I actually threw up a little once while changing my own daughters diaper. It makes me hurl chunks. And I hate puke too. So. I'm fucked. But I do get a sicky feeling when I see poop or smell farts. It is disgusting.

But I cannot stay away from it. It follows me. It is everywhere I go.

***********************************************
My dog ate a whole roll of toilet paper. She ate the whole entire thing. I didn't really know which dog it was, so I scolded both of them. Until today.

My old dog Vamp, had a hanger. It was a long string of paper hanging out of her butt hole. It was so gross. Naturally, I made her stay outside until she could lose the hanger. After awhile, I realized it wasn't coming out on it's own.

This is where you could puke.

I had to pull it out of her ass. The dog should have just shit a tree. Seriously. I kept pulling and pulling and....well....you get the picture.

She felt elated that she didn't have a wad of T.P. stuck up her intestines anymore and I was heaving and gagging and cussing and yelling.

My dog is going green because she recycles paper. Awesome.

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

I am taking Alli for weight loss. I had no choice. My pants were cutting off circulation to my legs and turning them purple. And I cannot even get my large ass off of the couch to sign up for the gym.....let alone go work out.

And when it says that you poop some weird, nasty slimy stuff out of your hole, it wasn't lying. In a few words, you shit the fat you it out. And it looks like grease. It is horrible.

And the gas is even worse. It smells like rotting fish. Can I get a "Ewwwww."

However, it works. You look into the bowl after a movement and realize that the lard you just squirted out is what you force into your face hole. Not very appetizing. So. I have second thoughts when I order the chicken sandwich with extra mayo off of the Burger King menu.

I said I thought about turning it down. I don't have that much will power. Geesh.

************************************
My husband likes to fart. My daughter likes to fart. My friends like to fart. My dad likes to fart. My sister and mother like to fart. My niece and nephew like to fart. Need I say more?????

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

My life stinks.....literally.

For Sale.

2009-02-25T12:34:00.004-06:00

If you are in need of a husband, look no further. You can have mine!

For a short time, you can bring home this fine piece of ass and prop him in a recliner with the remote in his hand. He will sit there, flipping through channels, farting, scratching his balls and out right ignore you or any of your demands.

But WAIT. There's more!!!!!!

When it comes to children, he is a special breed. He will actually come out of his t.v. trance long enough to say "Hi. How was your day?" to the children and answer math questions they may have. You must act quickly though. He is only coherent for a short time before his eyes glaze over and he can no longer interact with human kind.

He makes good money, enough for you to stay home and do all his laundry, cooking, cleaning, child care and become a under paid whore. Once in a great while, after oodles of begging, he may rub your back for 45 seconds before complaining that his arm is tired. It's pure bliss for those enjoyable 45 seconds though.

And you can sit in the comfort of your own home and smell the horrendous farts that he is truly the master of.

All of this PLUS!!!

He's pretty good in bed. Okay. He's the master of the bedroom. Sex or standing in front of him naked is your only ticket to get his eyes away from the flat screen.

If you ask him to do something, even though it is a small task, it will take him 7 days to fulfill your wishes. He uses the "Honey Do" list as toilet paper to wipe his ass. On the bright side, you save money on toilet paper.

If his friends call or he has a meeting ~~which is only suitable for meetings that are well worth his time and involves having "meeting's after the meetings" (aka the bar)~~ he is very motivated and it doesn't take him anytime to get ready to run for the door. This only applies to things that peaks his interest. If it is to go shopping, he will procrastinate for an eternity.

He pouts and whines like a toddler. So. If you are unable to have children and are pursuing adoption, he is a winner. You do not have to change shitty diapers ~~yet.~~ like you would with a infant.

And if the mood is right and I am bitchy enough, he comes with a package deal. Not only do you get this one husband, but you could have the fortune of getting the kid and two dogs to go along with him.

*note* He does not feed the dogs or kid. That is your job.

I will ship him to you as soon as he changes the light bulb in the bathroom that has been burned out for several weeks now. I can think positive and say that he will be on your doorstep in the next few days however, that is laying a lot of hope in him.

Act fast! This could all be yours for the low price of $.01 and if you comment within the next hour....

I will pay for shipping.

Make Checks Payable to:

One bitchy wife.

6969 UpHisAss Avenue

Butthole, FU 69696

*Note* I love my husband and he is a wonderful man and father but today, he done pissed me off. So. I turned to the blog for my therapy. Thank you for understanding that I am one messed up menopausal bitch.

Dislikes and likes.

2009-02-18T08:09:00.003-06:00

Things I dislike.

When someone owes you money and instead of paying you back, they buy themselves items that are clearly on a "want" list and not a "need" list. i.e. Big screen T.V.'s, Wii's, games, vacations, etc. This is beyond rude and I can guarantee that there will never be anymore handouts. EVER.

Keeping up with the Jone's. I'm sorry if this offends you. But there is nothing that is more upsetting to me then getting dogged by a friend because her "new" friend lives in the posh neighborhood and we live in the "modest" side of town. It is disturbing. I don't keep up with the Jone's because a.) I don't have the need to be in debt for the rest of my life and b.) I just don't feel any better about myself just because I drive the cool cars or live in the upside of town. And let me just say that if you are wondering if this is you that did this too me.....probably not because I can guarantee the person of who I am speaking of doesn't read this blog.

Judgement. This goes along with #2. Don't judge me because I don't wear designer duds (even though I sorta do. I just buy it at consignment shops.) or because I don't have the "look" that you feel I need. I will be the first to admit, I sometimes judge people myself. I know. Completely hypocritical. However, I don't like myself for doing it. I have been making a conscious effort to stop doing this and matter of factly, it was a New Year Resolution.

Condescending assholes. Nothing makes my blood boil more then individuals who condescend others to make themselves feel better. I'm sorry. But this cannot make you feel too good about yourself either. Truly. Is being disrespectful and demeaning to another, especially someone you confess to love, making you any better of a person? It is hurtful and cruel and my stomach hurts when I see sadness in a loved ones face when harsh words are spoken to them.

Selfish, rotten humans. I hate selfishness. If you have something to spare....then spare it. I give to charities often. I also give to friends that are in stressful times. I won't share names but I will give an example because truly, I am deserving of a pat on the back. I'm not trying to be conceited or I don't need verification that I am a nice person ~~because I am not always so nice.~~ but I want people to Pay it Forward as well. A friend of mine was struggling this past Christmas and was worried about buying Christmas gifts for her family. I knew she was struggling back in August. I started saving dimes and pennies and by time Christmas rolled around, I handed her $300 to buy presents. To this day, no one knows what I did but her and I. I will not tell anyone either and told her the same. Only because I want her family to be appreciative of her hard work. And she does work hard. She just had some ripples to take care of. So. I helped as a friend. And I'm proud that her family had a nice Christmas and she got the attention she deserved.

Conceited fucks. Oh do I loath conceited people. How irritating is it when every single thing you say someone has done it and done it better. It is so annoying. It is equivalent to scraping nails on a chalk board. Speaking for myself, I don't give a rat's ass if you have done it better then me. Let me get out a sentence before you must interrupt the conversation to give examples of your greatness. R.U.D.E. I try to understand low self esteem for being the source to the conceitedness but I have a hard time understanding this.

Things I love.

My daughter and her sweet face when she is sleeping. She can be such a devil at times but when she sleeps, she resembles nothing less then a precious angel. I love to listen to her breaths, the way her lip quivers when she sleeps and the way she talks so sweetly in her sleep. She is absolutely the love of my life.

The way my husband gives me gentle reminders of how much he loves and adores me. The way he rubs my back when I am pushing a grocery cart through the store. Or the way he hugs me and kisses my forehead. The way he gives me air kisses from across the room. He is so perfect for me in every single way.

The way my family cares and worries about us. The way they all lend support when we need it and affection when we want it. My family. All of my family, are always going to be some of my favorite people forever and always.

Friends of all different kinds. My friends are diverse. And I fit perfectly into their lives as they do to mine. The positive reinforcement they offer when I need it. Friends are so important in my life and always will be.

The love my dogs give me even after I yelled at them for chewing up a shoe again. They are so forgiving and so dependable and they love me for everything I am and see no faults. I love my pooches.

Happiness. Happiness is something that is worked for. Not just giving to you. I work hard for my happiness and I could be bitter, trust me. Instead I choose happiness and I try hard to always see the cup half full. Sometimes my cup runneth over, however I try to ignore the overflow.

God. My God. Our God. I don't care if you call him God or Jehovah. He is one God and we mostly all worship Him....regardless of the name you call him. Or the religion in which you have chosen to worship Him. Even if you choose to worship Him in the comfort of your own home and not in a church. As long as you worship Him.....it doesn't matter how or where you do it. I have worshipped Him in my car. In the bathroom, in Target. Just worship Him.

This is very inspiring for me to write this down. I need reminders to do better everyday. This certainly puts things in perspective. Try it. You'll see.

And away we don't go....

2009-02-16T21:28:00.002-06:00

This past weekend, I was anxiously awaiting the escaping out of my home. I was fit to be tied all week. Just me and my husband, riding in a car, sans the child that cannot stop saying "mom?" all the effing time.

Ahem....

I was even more excited because my husband was tired after working until 3am in the mourn. This meant I could listen to my "Journey" CD without any interruptions besides a snoring husband. Ahhhhh.....

We were going to Kansas City to help a friend move some of her belongings back home. And we were pulling a trailer with our truck. A regular sized truck. No semi. No diesel guzzling truck. Just a 4 wheel drive Chevrolet. Nonetheless....I hate driving this truck because I am vertical challenged. But it was well worth me driving it just to do nothing other then think to myself on the drive down.

I was pretty pumped in the a.m. before we headed south. I eagerly went outside to start the truck and pack our belongings.

I must digress here. For 5 weeks now my hubby has been badgering me to get a new set of keys made for all the vehicles. We only have one key for the truck. I told him "no." over and over because that is just to mundane of a chore for someone of my statue.

Ahem.

I locked the keys in our running truck.

Ahem.

I felt like a shit hole.

So. After 45minutes of the truck running and me pouting on the couch and my hubby laughing and snickering at my dumbness, a tow truck hero unlocked my truck. I promised to get another set of keys made ~~tomorrow~~. And I instantly set up on star again. Because those wizards can open your doors instantly. So. That means we don't really need that other key but my bossy husband says "Yes.We.Do."

Blah, Blah, Blah.

To make a very long story short....I realized half way to our destination, it was Friday the 13th. Shit.Fuck.Shit. I am overly superstitious. I will drive blocks away from a black cat. Don't judge me!!!!

We hit Omaha, Nebraska and it was a complete white out. Snow.Snow.Snow. Ice.Ice.Ice. And goofy mother effers driving like they are on speed. Not fun. At this point my husband woke up. I was white knuckling the steering wheel and my eyes were set on the road ahead.

Did you know that when you are pulling something behind a truck that it can fish tail or lose control which incidentally, makes a freak like me lose all control of her intestinal track and bladder and closes her eyes, throw her hands in the air and yell hysterically. Not good people. Not good.

I got control again. And then when you try to break, did you know that the trailer you are pulling will actually push you forward, making it much harder to stop. And did you know on ice, this makes a freak like me scream and cry and scream some more. And then the hubby makes "suggestions" and that makes you yell:

"Just Shut.Up. Just shut the hell up. I will cut out your freaking juggler if you don't shut the hell up!"

Not good people. Not good.

And then when you finally make it to your destination, by the grace of God, all hell breaks loose and you realize that some people are down right losers and thief's and goober-booby heads. And then you see such diversity in different neighborhoods of larger cities and you cannot believe your eyes. Just unreal. And you realize that some people are scum. And that the trip down to grab a friends stuff is a waste because the "friend" sold and pawned all of her stuff for money. Which I'm pretty certain was for some crack to stuff up her nose. While her small, innocent children play in the streets. I'm not gonna even explain how much of a freaking crack whore this gal is and how she doesn't deserve kids.

Ahem.

However, the next day I hung with my husband on Valentines Day....went shopping at some very cool places....and had hotel sex. Yes. Hotel Sex. Jealous?

Bow-Chicka-Bow-Wow.

The next Friday the 13th, you will find me in a closet. K?

Picture it.

2009-02-09T14:52:00.007-06:00

1. Picture it. Pregnant. Kidney infections.
I was working and had to go to a bachelorette party after my shift. I was 6 months prego and was in a ~~moo-moo~~ dress. I wasn't looking forward to going out however I promised I would and I was already late. Which means I didn't have time to pee before I left. A few minutes later, I was doing 55mph down the interstate and realized that my bladder was going to explode. I tried holding it for a few more miles to the next gas station, but I couldn't do it. I failed. I peed my pants. Luckily, I am a weirdo and whenever I have a dress on, I have to hike it all the way up when I drive. So I only peed in my granny undies and seat. I hate being late. So. I carefully slipped the undies ~~tent~~ off and threw them out the window (shame on me for littering but you never know, a hitch-hiker could have picked them up and used them for a hanky....or their own undies. It could happen!). Fast forward a few hours. The girls were already drunk off of their asses by time I made it there. Did I mention that my fat assed pregnant self was the D.D.? Anyway, at a bar, my one friend decided to lift my skirt. Imagine her surprise and laughs when I was butt ass naked.

The point?.........My friends are bitches.

2. Picture it. Me (single and childless). My friends. A Ford Tempo (bwahahahahaha. A Ford Tempo......LOL) and Pumpkins.

I used to love stealing pumpkins. So. One crazy night me and my friends left the bar (we were NOT drinking.) to take pumpkins away from innocent little children. Yes. I was terrible. Anyway, my friends car worked the best because it had a button that popped the trunk open. You Know. Easy Access. My one friend had some rank gas and it was seeping out of his bunghole. He came running back to the car with the biggest pumpkin I have ever seen and it was so heavy that he was pushing farts out as he huffed and puffed. We popped the trunk, he threw it in the back (which only made the back of the car look like a low rider.) and tried to open the car door. Did I mention that he almost got caught from the parents? Anyway, we could hear him tooting about a block away so we decided he needed to air out. We locked the doors and made him run next to the car for awhile. He hurt something or other in the process. I think he pulled a groin muscle. Hahaha.

The Moral of the Story?........Don't have gas while stealing pumpkins.

3. Picture it. A bar. Me. My cheating boyfriend. Alcohol.

I was dating a man for about a year at this point. Or at least I thought we were dating. Apparently he thought it was okay to do the "horizontal mambo" with other women as well. WRONG! We were out and about one night and I was feeling mighty fine thanks to tequila. His ~~whore~~ other "screw" informed me that she was "seeing" him as well. I approached him, which ironically he was at a table full of girls he was trying to mack on. I asked him if this information was true. He tried to lie. I persisted until he fessed up. At this point, I was being rather loud and we had an audience. After he told me the truth, I popped him in the face. I called him so choice words and walked away with people applauding me. He was humiliated when his posse of girls told him to get the hell away from them and he left the vicinity. Which is a good thing considering I was shooting some more tequila for some more liquid courage. I found out that the chick ~~whore~~ that gave me this information continued to have a "relationship" (read between the lines and take special note of the quotation marks.) for a while after this. He finally broke it off to her and begged for my forgiveness. I refused any sort of "relationship" with him other then friendship. We are still friends to this day. And I remind him occasionally of my punch to his kisser.

Moral of this story?.......Don't fuck with a drunk Firecracker.

4. My daughter was getting bullied when she was in 1st grade. This bully didn't want her to have any other friends and wanted Sheylee all to herself. So. She would tell Sheylee that she was going to hurt her if she talked to any other kid. My daughter was strong, and didn't listen to her. One day, out on the playground, she tried choking my daughter. My girl is tiny. This bully is not the average sized 1st grader. Sheylee didn't have a fighting chance. After Sheylee's other friends got the bully off of her, Sheylee went to go tell the playground teacher. She told Sheylee to stop tattling. My baby girl came home with finger marks on her throat and tears in her eyes. I went to the school, demanded to talk to this playground teacher and informed her that if she ever makes such poor judgements again with my child, it would be her neck she would have to protect. The Principal didn't bother to butt in as she knew I was pissed off. The bully had to see counseling for a year and the teacher won't even look my direction to this day.

The Point?......Mama has a temper when you mess with my Stinky Girl.

Boo-RAh!

Highs and Lows.

2009-02-08T11:22:00.002-06:00

I have been reflecting a lot. Don't worry. Not in a sad way. Just a soap box sorta way. Keep reading if you are as confused as me and I will do my best to explain.

A friend of mine has a sick child. She works full time, is a mom full time and her mind is racing full time. The woman doesn't catch a break. Her down time is consumed with worries of her child(ren) and money.

She is a workaholic. She gives her all to her company. They don't return the favor.

She has to take time off of work quite a bit to get her son to the doctor or miss work when her son is sick or in the hospital. Her job threatens her often. She has been on written warnings about her attendance.

I understand, to a point, her employers position. After all, my husband ran his fathers company for years. It is crucial to have dependable workers. I totally get that. However, my husband was very understanding to circumstances and situations. Never, Never, Ever did he reprimand a employee for taking time off for family. He would have been a total hypocrite had he. Family, in his beautiful eyes, is always first. No Exceptions.

Even though I understand the importance of dependability, I cannot accept that companies don't understand life. Life happens and sometimes it knocks us flat on our asses.

My friend is a testament to this. Trust me when I say that she would rather be working then taking her sick child to the doctor. Or holding his hand in the hospital. Or rubbing his hair when he is throwing up. She didn't chose this life. She deals with it.

How sad is it that she has to feel guilty and ashamed to stay home from work to care for her child(ren)? She is in a constant state of guilt. If she goes to work, she feels guilty for not being there for her son. If she stays home, she feels guilt about not being at work and scared of the consequences.

She cannot leave this company. Most companies are the same. She is stuck. She is beating her head up against a brick wall.

I have been there. Working full time, at a job that barely pays the bills. It is very frustrating.

I was the one who stayed home with our daughter if she was sick. It doesn't make since for me to go to work, making little money, or my husband going to work, making triple of my wages. It isn't rocket science.

I was reprimanded as well. Written warnings. Embarrassment of the manager pulling you aside in front of your co-workers to scold you for being a parent. And as much as you want to show your teeth to them, you cannot. It doesn't do a damn bit of good.

I am lucky enough to be a stay at home mom/wife now. I am a minority. Most families need 2 incomes to survive. And with today's economy, even the stay at home moms are reconsidering their position. Money is tight. Money is essential. Lose. Lose. Situation.

I am concerned for my friend. She is a single mom. Did I mention that? She is enduring more pain and stress then the average person. She is barely treading water at this time. She has family and friends helping her. She isn't alone. Yet she feels complete loneliness.

I stress to her: "Give us this DAY, our DAILY bread."

This to me means that you take one DAy at a time. Each night, you go to sleep. The next day, your slate is clean. New Day. New Beginnings. Sure. We are all putting money away for retirement and college. It is okay to plan for the future. But my motto is: "Worry about yesterday or tomorrow when you are there. Not Today." It may not make sense to you, but it does to me. And I hope like hell she learns from it too.

Prayer. Prayer is a powerful tool. He listens. He doesn't leave you stranded. He will fight for you. He always does. And even though we don't see His will or plans and sometimes it is the complete polar opposite of what you want, He will do what needs to be done. He knows your future. He knows you better then you know you. Faith. Prayer. Patience. Love.

Please bow your heads and pray for the families struggling like my dear sweet friend. Get on bended knee and thank the Good Lord for your blessings. Pray for those who are lost and cannot find their way home. Pray for those who are walking in the dark without a candle. They need you. They need your prayers. And above all. Feel compassion and understanding for people who are in less then desirable lives. Don't judge. Just feel.

*stepping down from the soap box now*

Some overdue thank yous.

2009-02-04T22:44:00.005-06:00

To the Superbowl commercials makers.

Thank you so much for providing entertainment for the 15children that were running rampant through my house on Superbowl Sunday. For a few brief moments, you stopped the kids in their mischievous tracks plus you did the impossible and actually made them quiet while they viewed your commercials.

Their favorite was from Bridgestone Tires that featured no other then Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head. Hilarious.

And better yet, the drunk adults were also momentarily controlled as they were engrossed in the commercials.

I had over 20 adults and 15 kids in my humble home. It was busting at the seams however, it was also bursting with laughter, giggles, screams, yells and fun.

But I very much enjoyed my minutes of sanity brought to me by your commercials. They were not the best ever but nonetheless, they were worthy of the 2 million dollars each company paid. Tell me again why we are in a ~~depression~~ recession and America's economy is in jeopardy? Bygones.

And because I am throwing out well deserved thank yous. I would also like to thank my doctor for prescribing my "happy pills." They saved a lot of hurt feelings and children sitting in time outs.

And thank you to the alcohol manufactures. You are beautiful.

Regards,

A happy camper.

P.S.

What are the chances of moving football to the warmer seasons so we can have a Superbowl Party that would allow the children to go outside in non-frigid weather? Just a simple suggestion.

So Long Life....Heeellllloooo Guitar Hero.

2009-02-03T22:40:00.002-06:00

Oh save it. I know Guitar Hero has been around too long for people to care anymore. But me, myself and I are really not that hip and rad. I don't follow fads, because with Katie Holmes rolling her cuffs on her jeans again, I would quite frankly rather spit some Tabasco sauce in my eye. And not because I would have to take the time to "roll" my jeans ~~although that is a big part of it~~ but more so because I think it is uglier then Kid Rock.

The reason I started my "Guitar Hero" infatuation is pure and simple. My husband thinks he is freaking Axl Rose on it. And anything he can do I can do better.

The End.

Or not.

I cannot let that human with a penis do better then me. And right now. He is way better then me. He is at a "medium" stage and I am still failing in the "easy" stage. And I look like a huge seizure when I play. It is disgusting. He looks like a gay member of Gun's and Roses but that is going away from my point.

I have used every excuse as to why I suck hairy balls. Like "My fingers are too short." or "I'm sweating too much." or "My butt crack itched." however, the reality, I am never gonna be a guitar "hero!" *sigh*

My reason for telling you this? Besides the fact that currently I am pouting because he kicked my fat hiney once again, is I haven't been blogging or commenting because of HIM and Guitar Hero. One way or another, I will master this damn game by summer ~~or 2020~~ . I will miss you while I'm away being a gigantic loser, playing my daughters Christmas present all.damn.day. And this further proves that I need to involve myself in activities. Before my ass needs it's own zip code from lack of exercise. Did I fail to mention that I am such a lazy beast that I don't even stand while playing? Instead, I recline in my couch while eating mass quantities of peanuts. And no...I am not scared of getting salmonella. I laugh in the face of infectious diseases. Hahahahacoughspewpukevomithahaha.

The sad part of this story? I'm almost certain that I am such a blog failure that nobody notices my absence. And in case you didn't know this, blog failure is as disappointing as a lonely old mans hand getting too tired to jack off. That's a let down.

Rat Bastards....

2009-01-29T14:42:00.002-06:00

What now? Let me tell ya.

I spent two hours of my life at the bank, filling out papers to dispute fraudulent charges on my account. Well. It's "our" checking account but I do use it the most.

Regardless....I got screwed out of $1200. And I am pissy, pissy Krissy.

The nerve of these corrupted geeks is disgusting. I wanna play kickball with their testecles. If only I knew who they were.

The paperwork was astronomical amounts. We had to wait for a Sheriff to file a police report. I looked like a criminal. I'm pissed, stressed and really, really just miffed. Ahhhh.

I'm having so many anxiety attacks that my hot flashes are in over drive. I'm sweating like a crack addict.

My bank will make good on the money yet I am still worried. What if it turns into Identity Theft? Do you have any idea how hard it is to prove yourself right in those cases. It is grueling and intense and it sucks hairy balls. I know someone who went through it and it took over 5yrs to get it straight.

Yet I sat on my dumb cloud thinking it could never happen to me. Thank God it wasn't identity theft or more money. They could have bled us dry. *sigh*

I'm gonna pass on some valuable information that you MUST do to prevent this from happening to you. It could have been worse. Had we have not had the adequate amount of money in our account, we would have been slammed with overdraft fees too. It could have been doubled the amount. And that money doesn't just reappear back into your account that day or even the next day.

This could happen to you. If you have never listened to me before, just listen to this. Pretty Please?

Do not ever hand over your debit card again. For instance. If you are paying for a meal. You put your card in the envelope and the waiter/waitress walks away with it. Think of this. Camera phones. All they have to do is snap a quick picture and just like that, you could be screwed. The possibility of them being nabbed for their crime? Slime to None. It's a easy crime to commit. Either pay in cash, with a check or use a credit card because they monitor those cards much, much more. Discover is the best for feud protection.
Try to use cash only. Remember back in the day, when ATM/Debit cards were newer? We all thought it was "safer" to use then cash. In some ways it is. Because how easy would it be to lose your wallet or purse and your cash doesn't have security on it. However, Freud is just as easy to lose money from.
Shred everything. Everything. Credit card offers, statements, anything that is thrown away needs to be shredded. It is crazy to think that this will become my life but it is what it is.
Use your card on the Internet only when you are 110% sure it is safe and secure. Ebay is very secure. But I am hesitant to even buy online from them anymore either.
Never give your card number out over the phone. Never. Even if it is a bill collector. You cannot give that information out any longer. Tell them that you will send them a check or money order. Explain why you refuse to give out your card number. If they don't understand, fuck em. It is not their money that is at potential danger.
Review your bank and credit card statements constantly. Your bank will not figure this out for you. You are in control of your own money. Immediately call your bank if anything sends up a red flag to you. That is what they are there for. I am so lucky we caught this when we did. They started out small. And the amount taken out got bigger as they got more greedy.
Monitor your credit score as well. Identity theft would be easier to find early by checking your score monthly.

Now go. Go check your bank statements and get busy on shredding.

Tonight...Let's talk about Superbowl Party Anxiety....shall we?

2009-01-28T21:46:00.002-06:00

We are hosting the Superbowl Party here, at my abode. The same house that I am completely anal in. The one that I work on cleaning everyday of my sick sadistic life. I'm shitting knives right now. Do you know what that is like? Shitting knives is very painful indeed.

Here's the low down. It's the mass amounts of ~~complete brats~~ children that will be running rampant. I'm talking a mass quantity of other people's children.

There are days that I don't even like my own child in the house because she is filthy. Seriously, I am that anal. No lies.

Last party here, with screaming children in attendance, a non-listening misfit spilled Koolaide on my beige ~~almost white~~ carpet after I repeatedly told her to keep her drink in the kitchen, on the hardwood floors.

Most of the kids that are coming listen NIL. I'm not saying my daughter is a saint. However, she respects other peoples property with the highest regard. She listens because she is soft hearted and fears being yelled at by other adults. I'm not going to go into how she doesn't give a rat's hairy ass what I yell at her. Nope. Not going down that road tonight. I'm already having a stroke because of the pending party. No need to have heart palpitations as well.

I am not shitting you ~~because you are my favorite turd~~ about these children NOT listening. They Do.Not. They are loud, obnoxious, rude, disrespectful and don't have boundaries. They are not welcomed to most homes because of their destructive behavior. And the parents are 100% clueless about this. They are lazy parents. They ignore their behaviors instead of dealing with them. And I am not that kinda parent. And I want to drop-kick their bratty asses.

Scratch that. I don't want to spank them as I fear I wouldn't have the control to stop once I started. They are really that bad.

I have to try and lock my daughters door to her room in fear that they will conquer it once again. Yep. They've done it before. Her door doesn't have a lock on it. I'm not sure how to get around that bygone.

I want to hide anything that could be broken and is sentimental or worth something. This would be every.single.thing.we.own. That is a fail.

I'm praying for nice sunny weather so they can be locked entertained outdoors. At least I don't have to worry about writing on the wall or Koolaide stains on the carpet.

I cannot talk to the parents, because they don't listen. Believe me, we have tried. Tried.Failed.Tried Again.Failed.

I have recruited others and told them that if they see anything in their harms way, to scold them or find me and I will scold them. They are officially activated for duty.

I'm going to bribe the older children to babysit them, which means I will have to sell a kidney to pay them considering the job will be challenging and hard. Harder then they will ever work. But it is a small price to pay.

I'm gonna hire the freaking FBI and have them stand in. Maybe they could lessen the blow to my house. Doubtful.

The anxiety attack will continue until we get through the party and I can visually that my house is still standing. Wish me luck. I'm gonna need it.

I feel pretty...Oh so pretty....

2009-01-26T18:20:00.002-06:00

Last night, we came home very late. We had a full day of visiting family and homework, for once, took the back burner. It felt good to be honest with you. Homework is a thorn in my muffin top. Blah.

So. After leaving to go home about 2 hours later then planned and with more then a hour drive to go, I read my daughter's book to her about Annie Oakley, with a flashlight no less. We arrived home at about 11:30pm. Not good considering we had the daunting homework to finish. I convince my daughter that we will blast through it in the morning and it was better that she go to bed so she isn't cranky and sassy in the morning. Honestly, I cannot handle the cranky-whiny butt attitude in the a.m. any longer without growing gray.

This morning, instead of waking a few moments earlier, we accidentally overslept. My morning homework plan failed miserably. I tossed and turned all night and went to bed well past my bedtime. I was bushed and couldn't pull my pants down to pee let alone do homework. We ate some breakfast and I decided to let my daughter go into school later.

After doing the homework, I quickly showered and dressed. At this point, my eyes began to puff, my nose was stuffed and I broke into hives all from allergies. I quickly swallowed some benedryl, fixed my hair ~~or just ran a brush through it~~ and pushed my girl out the door. Upon arriving to the school I noticed that I put on the wrong color socks and SHOES. Yes. I had on two different pair of tennis shoes.

High Fives all around!

I barely got home with my eyes open. Did I mention that it was snowy and my puffed eyes were having a difficult time focusing because of all the white? And I was so tired. And did I mention that the day before, I had threw my back out something fierce?

And so, I had the wrong colored socks on and two different pairs of tennis shoes, I was doped on benedryl, my eyes looked like I just smoked crack, I had hives and my back was having spasms. Whoopity-Doo....this was going to be a great day.

Can I get a round of applause????

I managed to make it home, noticed my car had a flat, slipped on the ice for the 400th time this winter and screamed in agony. Foul words were rampantly escaping my trashy mouth.

Do you wish you were me yet?

I limped into the house, looking like I either needed a cane or a wheelchair. Nonetheless, I looked like an old blue-hair.

I went straight to bed. But for the life of me, couldn't sleep.

My husband wanted to know if I wanted to run to the DMV to get the plates for the new year with him. Stupidly, I agreed. I never took my shoes off once I got into bed. I know, it is wrong but I was freaking tired and close to tears.

So. I leave with my husband, and realize that I am still wearing my different paired shoes. I shrug and say out loud: "Who freaking gives a rat's ass?" My husband looks at me like I am sprouting horns.

Before we enter the DMV, I take a quick peek in the mirror. Imagine my surprise to see my hair sticking straight up, my mascara down to my chin(s) and I'm missing an earring. I once again yell: "Screw it." My husband understands my words this time as he is looking at me in horror. I limped into the DMV, looking like the hunchback of Notre Dame and Medusa.

I was pretty.

Note. I even braved the grocery store and soon realized that I was not the only one having a bad day. I saw a mom get puked on, in which she simply wiped the chunks off and went on her merry way. I saw a grandma with her skirt tucked into her dress and a whore with a skirt on that could only be described as a tube top used as a skirt.

Here's some funny commercials sent to me via email. It made me smile so it should do wonders for you. :0)

A little rant and a lot of rave.

2009-01-26T00:01:00.002-06:00

Dear Bloggers....

I only entered the blog world about a year ago. In my time on blogworld, I have seen it all. Okay. Not it all but I have seen a lot.

I have seen the mean, nasty assholes who find websites and trash them or send them condescending emails desperately trying to convince the receiver that they are worthless and that the mean nasty sender is the "Awwww Powerful."

I have seen dipsticks giving their "humbled" opinions all.to.often. Trying to fix the world one blogger at a time. If you put up a picture that is "distasteful" in their "humbled opinion" they advise you that you are being disrespectful, rude, or some other stupid shit. In my "experience" as a human, opinions are like assholes, everyone has one. And truly, what your description of distasteful or disrespectful is could be way off cue and completely different from the next persons. So. Shut up.

I have seen bloggers who are super dooper popular and in my "humbled" opinion, they are cheesy and fake. So. I don't revisit that particular website. I move on to one more my taste. Something that is more for my liking. I don't discuss in detail in a full-blown email or comment of why I don't like them. That is humiliating. Not only to the blogger, but to yourself. You sorta look like a desperate loner with nothing else to do. A Blogger Bully. Cowards.

I'm not quite sure how to put this. Let's see if I can do it tactfully.

Nobody likes a whiny-assed, disturbed, low lifed fuck who finds pleasure in hiding behind the their computer trash talking someone else.

Delicate is not my forte.

However, I don't hunt you down, write some malicious remarks or mouth some inaccurate accusations. I'm sorry. Unless you are God himself, you don't have the right to judge. So. Shut up.

I was once making my way up the bloggy ladder. Meeting a ton of friends, getting a lot of comments and even more awesome emails. I was on my way.

I got bored and overwhelmed way to quickly. Sure. I see these blogs that are the Prom Queens of the blogworld. They have admirers. I am usually one of them. And I admit, sometimes I get a little sickly because I feel like the pocket protector nerd secretly stalking the beauty queen, but let's face it, I get overwhelmed easily. And I would be very intimidated to have so many lurkers.

So. My small amount of friends is just fine with me. Sure. I would like to be a bit more popular and maybe find a happy medium however, I don't keep myself up at night worried about it. If I was meant to be popular, then I would be. I cannot force myself upon people because I am more out going then some of the blogs. The pretty, sweet and nice blogs are like virgins compared to me. So. If they wish to take a visit to the wild side, I would welcome them. Nonetheless, I cannot forcefully make them loose their virginity.

Most of the time, I laugh at rude remarks and snotty emails. They make me feel empowered. And the general rule in life is that you usually have triple the friends then you do enemies. So. Enemies just verify that I have bloggy friends.

But seriously, when you play the "I'm a terrible mom" card to me, I am gonna fight back. Maybe because that is like sucker punching a man in his gonads. You are hitting below the belt.

You bet my daughter is mouthy, sassy and smart assed. But she is mine, and I happen to like her, so kiss my ass you sack of vomit.

She may be pre-hormonal and I am definitely menopausal which excuse me.....is like water and oil. We argue like the dickens. But. I love her pre-hormonal ass.

What is really mind boggling to me is that I rarely discuss my relationship with my baby girl. Not because I don't wanna be a mom blogger. But because my job is being a mom. I rarely get to discuss sex because I am usually in "Mom Mode" and this blog gives me a brief moment to be something other then a mom. It's like a lunch break. However, I am 100% dedicated to my motherly role. And I may not be the ideal mother for you but that, my enemy, is why I am not your mother. I am my daughters mother. And she happens to love and adore me. I know this because she tells me it a few hundred times a day. And I likewise to her. And she is my true love in life.

I am not a spectacular mom and never said anything different. But I am certainly not a mis-fit mother either as you so spitefully called me. And the worst thing is that I have this need to explain my parental role to you....a coward. A harasser. A filthy ass. However, I did have to explain myself and I hope it helps you to understand that if you were to have said the same thing to my face, I would have spit venom in your eye. Yet again, like I am sure you have done to others, you hide behind your computer screen probably masturbating because you are a complete idiot and have nothing or anyone else to do. My suggestion to you, is stick you penis up your ass and screw yourself (if your a man). If your a female, buy a dildo. Seriously, you need to have an orgasm.

I have so much more to say, but I won't. You and your ghastly friends who are causing pain in other blogs as well need to find another hobby before you get chewed up and spit out.

And you are a gigantic loser. And my daughter is a happy, healthy loved child. She is loved by many because of her outgoing personality and lovable nature. I feed her with confidence everyday. I cry with her when she gets her sensitive little heart broken and I hug her when she is confused and hurt by peons like yourself. Trust me. If you are looking for a heartless abusive mom, you have landed in the wrong place. Bastard.

Go get yourself some help. Kay??????

You are not so loved by:
The Pissed off Firecracker.

P.S.

You probably won't understand a lot of this if you did not write the email and for that, I apologize. :0)

I hope this doesn't give you nightmares.

2009-01-23T08:07:00.003-06:00

Because my words have escaped me these last few days and my brains only function right now is to bring me grief and worry, I thought I would give you tid bits of me.

1. I'm not a jealous person at all. My husband can enter a strip club and he need not worry about his wife getting all green-eyed monster on him. Usually, I enter the strip club with him and have sat in sniffers row.

*note. Before the judgements are ruled and rumors fly....I am the furthest thing from a lesbian. I could vomit in your lap just thinking of that. Because I am damn sure of my sexuality it doesn't bother me to give a naked chick a few bucks. She's probably just trying to feed her babies. And if I had a body to make some money instead of making some puke, I would have sex with a pole too.

2. Once upon a time, a bunch of my best girls and all of our tag along husbands entered a strip club. The ladies paid me because my boobs are homegrown. And they liked them a lot. I scored $40 without ever showing off my Buddhas. Sweeettt.

3. This has backfired too. The same night, a working girl who was clearly into S&M attacked me and showed me who was in charge. She spanked my butt so hard that I had hand prints the next day. The entire bar was screaming and laughing at my agony. She paid me $10 of the $40 dollars. I think she felt bad.

4. I was the maid of honor in my girl friends wedding. For her bachelorette party, we did a scavenger hunt. She was hesitant to do some of the challenges so I took over. One of the goals was to swindle $50 off of men only. I made her over $150 that night. I was empowered and decided to go for broke after the $50 came from one man. Men are so stupid. And I didn't have to take off my shirt once. BooRah! ~~nevermind the fact that the men would have paid more to keep my clothes on~~

5. My sister and mom are constantly on the Weight Watchers diet. My sis lost over 100lbs. She is sexy and svelte now. This pisses her older sister off. So. When I bring dishes for holidays, I promise them that I made it with all low fat ingredients. I really do not. Mwahahahaha.

6. Drama, Trauma and crap is attracted to me. I'm like glue. This is why friends call me "Black Cloud Krissy". It's not original, but it is sadly very true.

7. I inherited my gift of laughter from my parents. And they taught me to have fun. I remember growing up we had the most amazing pool parties. My parents had/have a ton of friends and pretty much are loved by all that meet them. I did not inherit that. I have enemies. However, the enemies make me laugh and I love it when people hate me. Their loss.

8. Did you know that South Dakota has Cobra's? I kid you not. I have seen these snakes along with Boa Constrictors and Anaconda's. They reside in my back yard. My husband calls them Gardner Snakes however, he hasn't seen the beasts that taunt me.

9. I am a bonafide KLUTZ. Ask my long time friends, their parents, their siblings, my parents, my sister, my neighbors, anyone. I am the family klutz. Yet. I have never broken a bone. Knock on some damn wood already.

10. The person you have known to love~~hate~~ on this blog is exactly the person you would meet in person. I don't pretend to be something I am not. I am a loon. I am crazy. I am all of the above. I do fear that if I met my blog friends in person that you would be highly disappointed though. It's an insecurity I carry.

Happy Weekend Friends.

Thank God for happy pills.

2009-01-22T16:18:00.002-06:00

I'm doing good. While I was sleeping, I had a visit from the "Pull it together loser" Fairy and I am doing better today. I'm still very worried, but a couple of happy pills, a half bottle of wine and a tear fest pulled me out of the shitter.

My daughter's issues seem better since her awesome mom came to school to enjoy a little lunch. All the kids wanna sit by me because I am the cool mom ~~and I always bring cookies for the monsters~~ so she felt pretty special. The bullies had the look of fear in their eyes and I'm pretty sure are well aware that they don't wanna mess with this mommaCat. Meeeoooowww.

I'm trying to be positive. I'm going to go watch Mall Cop because it looks hilarious and then I am gonna go drink with a friend. I'm very aware that I sound like a lush.

Although things are still pretty hard for me I am managing. My sweet goober of a husband told me that if I smile more, he will take me to Texas to see my bestest friend. So. I need to make myself happy so I can go hang with my number one fan, go to Six Flags and ride roller coasters until I puke.

Now. I am going to go do some laundry, help with homework, clean my daughters beastly room and then run like hell to get out of this house.

And just like that....

2009-01-21T21:22:00.002-06:00

Life starts to make me shake my head in disgust again.

My beautiful friend, whom I love and adore, had some terrible news to tell me today. Her middle son, who is a young teenager, has a golfball sized tumor on his brain.

For now, there is no word on if it is cancerous. He had a major seizure last week which triggered the tests to determine the tumor. If he has another seizure, they are concerned his precious heart will not take it well. Friday is a trip to the specialist and from what we understand, a biopsy will be done to determine rather or not it is....the ugliest word I know, cancer.

I don't even know what else to say right now. I don't have an answer and all I could say to her sweet voice as it was cracking with pain, is "I'm praying." I'm planning on spending some time with her this weekend. Just supporting her.

I could vomit by just thinking of her pain. Her fears. Her heartache. I hate thinking about it. I'm scared it will be me in that position some day. I know, I cannot think that way but I do. I cannot stop. And I don't want her hurting this way either. I want her to be okay. I want her son to be okay.

And if that isn't enough, her son is scared. He has fears. He doesn't understand. He shouldn't have to understand. Why? Why? This boy is a sweet, big hearted soul. Why?????

My heart. It hurts. I cannot stop thinking about him. About his fears. His mother doesn't want him to sleep alone afraid that he will have another seizure. It's pathetic. It's disgusting. It's wrong. I cannot get the words out that I want to. Ugh.

And then my daughter is getting bullied. Like in her face bullied. And I tried to help the situation and probably made it worse. I don't want to get into it because I can barely see through my tears however, it just sucks that I cannot do anything right tonight. Trust me. I am doing nothing right. Piss.Piss.Piss.

I know that my life isn't terrible. I have a modest home, money in the bank ~~some~~, a healthy family and great friends. I know this. But I still feel beat up lately. Honestly, it hasn't been all peaches and cream for us in the last few years. And I feel guilty because I get pissed that we cannot have good luck for more then a freaking week.

I'm sorry. I'm just pissed. I am all out pissed off. And my words are stupid and probably don't make much sense but I am going to hit publish and then go cry for awhile anyway.

I write this post to once again, come here for prayers. Not for me. I will be okay once I get my shit pulled together. But please, pray for my friend and her son. They are hurting. Actually, pray for the whole family because she has other kids that are scared too. And you could say a pray for my daughter for having a dumbass mom like myself. *wink*

It's on like Donkey Kong.

2009-01-20T22:04:00.005-06:00

My butt nugget of a husband is messing with fire.

Because I now have a super-uber classy expensive camera, he feels that he can put his plump fingers all over it. And as if that isn't enough to shave off his eyebrows while he is sleeping, he takes terrible, horrible, disgusting, "my chins are going to need their own zip code soon" pictures.

I suppose some of you want to see these pictures so you could all just hee-haw laugh your butts off.

I don't disappoint.

Exhibit A of why my husband is going to be extracting his "man danglers" out of his throat.

Oh save your comments. I was sick with some horrific disease that makes you smile upside down. I'm lucky to be alive. I was sleeping downstairs because I was having hot flashes like a mother sucker. I cannot believe I frown in my sleep. Apparently, gravity has effected more then my milk jugs.

Exhibit B: Okay. I really don't have an exhibit B because I delete all pictures of me looking like something you should flush down the shitter. But believe me. He has taken pictures of me that had made my jaw drop at the pure ugliness.

It's on like Donkey Kong. I don't know how or when because he is not as hard to embarrass as me but mark my words, he is going down like a slut on prom night.

I need some serious shock therapy. Putting this discriminating picture of me on my blog is proof.

Here's a virtual "High Five" if you have ever sought revenge after your peasant of a husband as well.

*smack*

Breathe, Release, Rejoice.

2009-01-20T19:40:00.003-06:00

First. Breathe. Easy enough, eh? Actually, take in some big healthy breathes over and over and get some oxygen to that big brain of yours. This is the first step in healing your stress.

Second. Release your stress or anger. Get rid of it. Find a suitable place for it to go. I'll let you lead by my example.

*ahem*

My dear friend is in a tough spot currently. Single mom. Ignorant ~~shit for brains~~ ex-husband and father of her children. Financial struggles that are relentless. She says over and over: "Why can't I get a break?"

Because of the financial difficulties, she is in a slump. And when she is down in the dumps is about the time the bill collectors start calling. Of course, they have impeccable timing. And like so many others in the same situation, she is bullied by these collectors.

The other day she got a call from a debt collection company about a hospital bill for around $500. She desperately tries to explain that she has nothing left over after her household bills, her car and groceries to feed her children.

This particular punk proceeds to "advise" her to default on her car payment for the month to pay him, a unexpected medical bill. "Sir Shithole" informs her that she spends too much money on groceries and her kids do not need to eat that much. He goes down the list of things she should remove from her expenses so he can get paid in full ~~to get commission~~.

*Insert a pissed off friend that has been helping her friend get out of debt by introducing her to the Dave Ramsey Plan. It is a successful plan because we did it ourselves and are now, debt free.* ~~that was the longest damn 2 sentences EVER~~

I'm gonna tell you what, there is nothing that pisses me off more then bullies. I know her pain. I have been there. These bastards will torment and torture you until you finally give them a credit card number to put the medical bill on or they will harass you countless times by calling and calling you. AND...AND...THIS PUTZ CALLS HER AT WORK 3-5X'S A DAY. BASTARD.

I'm gonna rip his nut sack off. I'm ready to pounce. NoONe. I mean NoOne bullies my friends or family. Grrrrr.

Let's just say for the sake of a really long ass post, that I spit rat poison in this dudes eye. I know my laws. I did research after research after my hysterectomy because I was the one being bullied at the time. And luckily, I had a good friend who jumped in when I was a big wad of chewing gum and took care of my dirty work. I learned from the best of the best. She was a rock star. And I learned so very much. And I know my laws and rights. And this bastard stumbled into War Territory. The End. Until the next one calls and I get a bite of his ass too.

And I suppose if that doesn't work for you, just kick sand in someone's eye.

And finally, Third you rejoice.

There is nothing more exhilarating then to know you took control of your stress. You did it. You live and learn. And I'm gonna tell you sweet friends, rejoicing is NOT overrated.

My very delusional point here is take it from a chick who had/has numerous panic attacks, anxiety and fear. You live and learn but you cannot learn unless you fail. I have failed. ~~a lot~~ And today, my friend picked her head up, realized she was living in fear, dusted off her bottom and is learning to take action and control.

I am soooo proud of her. It's like succeeding in potty training a toddler. BooRah Baby!

*Note. If you have financial burdens that are causing you great pain, I am highly recommending the Dave Ramsey Plan. It isn't fun. It is something that you have to work hard at. But trust in me, the first time you pay off a bill that has been gnawing at you for awhile, you will feel triumphant and renewed. I only suggest this because I know the financial burdens to well. Not long ago my friends, I was eating my fingernails for dinner. I was a wreck, worrying about money day in and day out. My husband introduced me to the plan, I kicked and screamed however I gave in and did it. And today, I am so relieved I did. Please. Go to Dave Ramsey and learn more. And if you have personal questions, although I am no expert, I do have a very good knowledge about the program and can try to answer your questions. Email me. I'm here to serve you.

If you don't have financial foes because you succeeded in the Dave Ramsey's Total Money Makeover, then a virtual "High Five" to you.

Flatulence.

2009-01-17T15:48:00.002-06:00

Flatulence. Or for bone heads like myself that don't like big words. Fart. Gas. Sneakers. Sliders. Whatever works for you.

You see. This is a natural occurrence. You have to fart. It will come out some way or another. If you don't fart, you burp. If you don't burp, you fart. If you don't do either, your pores will leak out a stench so putrid you will want to die. I heard about that anyway. I'm not a doctor though. But I believe this.

So. The gas that leaks out of my buttocks has caused great grief for me. For instance. I sneeze, I fart. I pray that a plane has just passed over and I can blame it on that. Or a dog is sitting near. Or my husband, cause he gets blamed and he knows better to squeal on me.

However, my prayers go unanswered. No plane. No dog. No hubby. Just me, sneezing and a loud, obnoxious sound escaping through my crack. I don't think that you can physically sneeze and clench your butt cheeks together. It is like sneezing and blinking. It cannot be done.

However, the worst to date was when I was drinking. I was bombed off of tomato beers and crappy cigarettes. It was before my daughter was born, and I had drank for 3 nights straight. Which can only lead to beer farts, which are the most vile smelling toxic gas you could ever inhale. And when you factor in tomato beers, it's downright revolting.

So. I was standing in a mixed crowd of best friends, good friends, acquaintances and strangers. It was packed and the music was loud. I was holding in a ass bomb. My stomach was beginning to go into convulsions. So. In a intoxicated state, I decided to let it fly, knowing full well it was going to be loud.

And just as I relaxed my butt cheeks, the music went dead and for some reason, the crowd was quiet. And they all heard it.

Oh dear Lord. I realized I had to come up with a damn good excuse or blatant lie. I sort of looked up into the eyes of my friends. I was totally busted. My best friend/soul sister was standing in front of me. She loves farts, poop, puke, belly button lint. Whatever. She is a gross lady. She farted on blind date with a guy who was extremely HOT. She took a shit at his apartment (and informed him that she was going to take a dump) before they left for the movie. Her now husband, got the covered wagon on their first *ahem* "make-out" session. She is the opposite of girly, even though her hair and body are perfection. She is a tom boy inside a beautiful girl's body.

Anyway, I digress.

So. As I looked into her eyes, she was already belly rolling. She couldn't contain herself. She was welling up with tears. Laughing her fool ass off. And then in the mix of her giggle fits she yells: "You totally just farted." I look for support from my other friends. They were in no better state then her. Even the "Miss Priss" friend who I swear, has never pooped a day in her life, was rolling on the ground. She is such a faker.

I look to acquittance's, praying for someone to shoot me in the head and end my misery. They were hamming it up too.

Strangers? Hell no. The girls were mortified and the guys were laughing. I was destined to die.

And then. It happened. Like "slo-mo" happened. Everyone smelled the ass gas. And their faces went from laughing to a severe look of vomiting. It was toxic. The strangers quickly left. The acquaintances disappeared too and the friends all fanned their noses or covered their faces with their sleeves. Gagging. Yelling. Spewing.

And that, my friends, is the night I saw my life flash before my eyes.

Punch lines to Avoid a Punch.

2009-01-17T10:56:00.003-06:00

CNN reported 10 things to say to avoid a fight. I laughed my ass off. Some people are so damn naive or have not been in a relationship for a good amount of time. Or maybe I'm just hard to please. The later is plausible.

1. "Thank you for your opinion, I will think about it."

Holy hell. I could see my husband telling me that we cannot afford a lavish vacation to Venice, Italy. And I could totally see me saying:
"Thank you for your opinion, I will think about it" as I am packing my bags and leaving on a jet plane. Fail.

2. "Is this a good time?"

Instinctively when someone says this to me my brain goes into super-drive making up excuses as to why it isn't a good time. I'm no brain however, I do know that after these 5 words comes bad news of some sort. So. It is never a good time. Thank you very much.

3. "Would you like my thoughts?"

The answer will be "NO", I don't want your thoughts. Thoughts and opinions are like assholes, everyone has them.

4. "Why don't we get the facts?"

Facts? Facts? FACTS? I'm not a planner nor do I need facts to make improv decisions. Finding facts are a big waste of my time. I go by gut instinct, which is why I have bad luck more then good luck. I could see my husband asking me if he can go ice fishing though and me responding back:
"Umm....why don't we get some facts about ice fishing before you go, Mkay?"
I could see my husband kicking my ass to the curb too.

5. "I need your help, can you please....?"

I'm used to this one. I'm convinced my family couldn't survive a single second without the help from me. I see wiping my husbands ass in the near future. They are immune to doing anything for themselves. They are hemorrhoids on my ass. But Gosh do I love those festered up boils.

6. "What did you mean by that?"

I'm sure CNN meant this to be said in a subtle, non-confrontational way. However, if I say that to my husband, each word is exaggerated out. "Whatttt diddd youuuu meeannn byyyy THATTT?" And then my husband intuitively runs out of the house yelling: "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that. I'm so.so.sorry." Well. SortaKinda I suppose. But he does know that there is a storm coming when I say those words.

7. "I don't like that, so why don't we do this instead."

Hahahahahooooooohooooooohooooooha.
This would be a disaster in this house. What a joke. Instead we say things like "No. That is not the final answer." and "Why don't I get a say in this." and "Damn it. This is what we are doing so shut the hell up already."

We are a dysfunctional family obviously.

8. "I'm sorry your upset."

In my abode, this is usually followed by a big ole "BUT" or "However". We don't stop at "I'm sorry your upset." and the sentence is usually "I'm sorry your upset but get over it."

We fight for the last word around here.

9. "Let's wait on this until we have more information."

Me: "Dear, did you leave the milk out all night?"

Hubby: "let's wait on this until we have more information."

Drive to ER to remove the shoe from his ass.

10. "Let me get back to you"

Me: "Can you take the garbage out?"

Hubby. "let me get back to you."

Start making the arrangements for his funeral.

I'm aware that these could work in a normal classy family. We are not that family. In this household, we have a menopausal mom, a pre-hormonal daughter and a PMS'ing husband. We also have to demonic dogs. I'm OCD, my daughter is OCD times four and my husband is a procrastinator. I like things clean, my husband is messy and my daughter is a filthy pig. And my demonic dogs shed.

Yet. We are a strong, supportive, well-balanced family. I know. Odd? We are blessed. We have Faith. We have love. We are a family that is a bit dysfunctional and a whole lot of weirdness yet we laugh constantly. We are a family. And maybe tomorrow I will give you some of my wicked, sadistic, mean vindictive ideals to become one with me. Or not. Too many of me can just be difficult. Right?

Somebody turn up the damn heat.....

2009-01-14T20:40:00.003-06:00

It is a balmy negative 18 degrees outside. Wowser. Yes. I said NEGATIVE. It isn't even at Zero. Zero being the lowest number. IT IS BELOW ZERO. Holy shitballs. And when I said "balmy" I was being overly sarcastic. In case you needed to know that.

Today. I hit a squirrel that I thought was road slush. It didn't move. My windows were ice-packed on the INSIDE of my car. I realized it was a poor squirrel when I saw it's beady little eyes staring at me in panic. I'm pretty sure it didn't move because it couldn't. It's butt was frozen to the street. RIP frozenbutt squirrel. I'm sorry.

Today. I saw a child trying to climb back into his mothers womb. The poor child wanted the warmth from the uterus again. So sad and so disturbing.

Today. The leather seats in my car were like ice blocks. Thank you GOD for heated leather seats. I would have frost bite in my Netherlands by now. Ouch.

Today. My daughters eye lids were almost closed shut. She literally walked from the school's door to my car and she could barely see. Poor baby. And the poor thing had a rotten day at school because the girls are getting a little hormonal and my sensitive child gets her delicate feelings hurt to easily. My heart is weeping. Does any mother of a pre-teenager girl relate to this or can you relate to this and if so....please give me some of your wisdom. I want to smack the girl who hurt my baby in the head right now. Sorry. Help.

Today. My dogs lost all their hair on the bottom of their feet from the freezing cold snow.

Today. My baby girl declined the mall. She thought it was to cold. This is a first. EVER. I would have risked the damn weather to cheer up my sweetie. Stupid.Stupid.Stupid weather.

Jack Frost is nipping at more then my nose.

I may have to put caution signs on my boobs so my extremely ~~hard~~ sore nipples won't hurt somebody.

Santa took us off of his list. It's too cold for the fat bastard to ever come here again.

Eskimos wouldn't live here.

The North Pole would be a tropical paradise.

I am mad that Grisham is leaving CSI. I am aware that this is off the subject however, I saw the preview and I am crying. And I needed to say it. I love you Grisham.

My body aches everywhere. I wasn't aware that cold weather effects my Fibromyalgia like this. Every aching bone in my body. It has been a very, very rough day for me. And then my baby is sad. It's a sucky day.
(I know that I keep bringing up my baby however, Fibromyalgia effects my mood as much as my aching bones and I feel so.sorry for her today. I know. It's life. I know. It's part of growing up. But I am her mom. Am I not supposed to protect her? And again. I am a emotional web of shit right now. And Grisham is leaving CSI. And it's really depressing outside. And I can go on and on. I need therapy or a good bottle of wine. And I refuse to go out in the Arctic to get a good bottle of wine. And can I whine any more? Geesh.)

Alright. The last paragraph is proof that I need to take a few TylenolPM to help with my pain and knock me on my ass.

Advice? Please? Think of it as a new ideal for tomorrows post on your blog. Or mine. I don't care. Guest blog for me while my Fibromyalgia settles a bit. My fingers hurt. I kid you not. Help me? Please. Anybody? Hello? Are you there?

And now.....Fast, Easy and sometimes cheap wisdom from me.

2009-01-13T21:45:00.000-06:00

I have become a champion of finding the easiest, fastest and sometimes cheapest cleaning solutions. After all my years ~~all 34.5 years~~ of cleaning, I have searched the web, watched my favorite shows, read magazine articles and just pulled some shit out of my ass for a ~~lazy~~ busy mom like myself. Behold my madness.

First of all....my favorite show is "How Clean is Your House?" on BBC. With sassy hosts like Kim and Aggie, how couldn't you love this show. And I love it when they rip into filthy people and make them feel like lazy losers. My favorite part of the show.

Love those clean freaks. I want to do a segment on our local stations and I want to be the host. I could give Kim and Aggie a run for their mops.

Anyway. Here we go.

Leather furniture. Did you know that your leather furniture is alive? Seriously. It needs to breath and it needs food. So. To make that sofa happy and well, mix some vinegar (will tackle the grease and dead cells your skin leaves behind) and olive oil. Not a lot. Rub down the furniture and then buff the hell out of it with a dry cloth or paper towel. Taa-Daa. You just fed and cleaned your leather. The olive oil shines and feeds the leather. Make sure you test it in a un-seen spot first. For a quick wipe, use a facial cloth on it. Another method? Sure. Use a regular bar of soap. Rub some soup on a wet rag, wash the couch and wipe off the residue. Brilliant.

Speaking of facial clothes (anything you use to clean your face), use those babies to wipe down your keyboard, piano keys, phones, or remote controls. If it is good enough to wash your beautiful face, it will not harm these things. It's shear genius I tell you.

Salt. Just regular old salt that you cook with. It is a mild abrasive yet it isn't strong enough to scratch surfaces. So. For that nasty ring around the tub. Put some salt on a nylon bristle brush and scrub away. You don't have to worry about nasty fumes that make you high (unless that is the highlight of your day, then you can get high on your cleaning fumes all you want.) and you don't have to worry about mixing cleaning products that cause you and your family to evacuate the house. Also. Use a bar of soap to scrub the area. Wrap a washcloth around the soap for a better grip, and wipe away. Do this why you are taking a shower and belting out ~~off key~~ "Eye of the Tiger".

Note: Shaving cream is a condensed soap. It is also great to clean with and usually smells nice.

Hardwood floors can be a pain in the buttock. They always streak, right? Not anymore. Use vinegar and a dry mop. And because I hurl at the smell of vinegar, I use apple cedar vinegar or just regular vinegar with lemon juice. It still smells a bit, but it doesn't last for long. And your floors are streak free. If your family walks all over the floor after you slaved on your hands and knees, stick the dry mop up their asses.

Nasty crusted microwaves. Easy as pie. Put a glass of warm water with lemon juice in it for a few minutes. Let it boil. Remove the cup and immediately wipe down. The gunk should be soft enough to just wipe it clean and the lemon juice made it smell clean. Then advise family that if they don't start covering up their food or wiping it down after an accident you will start their prized possessions on fire.

Mirrors suck. I hate wiping them and windows down. Streak, streak, streak. I admit, I use Windex. But there are some eco-friendly people who would rather not use that. So. Use water, vinegar and newspaper. Done.

Hint: Put a drop of your favorite fragrance on light bulbs (just a dab) and when you turn on the light, you will soon be soothed by the pretty smells.

Laundry detergent, rather powder or liquid, is a great alternative to harsh cleaning products. Use it to clean the poop smears from the toilet bowl or to actually clean the washer and dryer. And if your dogs pee on the carpet, use warm water with a few drops of laundry detergent and scrub down the carpet. It will deodorize plus clean. And then rub the ~~husbands~~...I mean dogs noses in it.

Use plastic shoe holders to organize bathroom accessories. You can put makeup, lotions, soaps, sex toys, whatever you want in there. Hey. I don't judge your life. Sex toys could double as back massages. At least that is what you can tell the kids or in-laws.

Are you closets a disaster? Do you worry about a concussion every time you open the door?

Well...So do I. So ask someone else for that advice. My closets could harbor Jimmy Hoffa's body. I wouldn't know if it did.

Hint: Use a wet sock over a broom handle to remove spider webs or dust bunnies hanging off of the ceiling.

Okay-Dokie. Happy Cleaning friends. And remember, you got this information from Krissy, super cleaning machine.

(and for your viewing pleasure, another hog-o-riffic picture of me.)

The End.

Why am I so irrisistable to women?

2009-01-11T18:24:00.004-06:00

Now. Before I get an angry lesbian blasting my blog for being discriminating, I do not care if you are gay or not. It doesn't bother me one bit. It's your crotch. I have friends that are gay and just because I am not doesn't mean that I judge you. Again. It's your woo-hoo. I don't care what you do with it as you don't care what I do with mine. And calling you a lesbian does not mean that I am discriminating against you or labeling you. So. Don't jump on soap boxes here. I also don't like men that have blond hair. I like the dark haired mystery men. I prefer Chase Crawford over Brad Pitt. So. This has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me because it is my bloggity-blog-blog dawg. Snoop out. Okay. I'll stop acting like a low paid rapper now. Sorry for that. On with my post, shall we?????

Hokey Dokey. Let's talk.

I like it when men find me attractive. Mainly because I can rub it in my husbands face when he pisses me off. It's ammunition. But also because I feel sexy and feel like I still have the stuff. Well. I do have the stuff but it is entirely the wrong kinda stuff I would like to have. Did that make sense? Probably not. I had wine tonight.

And although I don't like to toot my own horn ~~yeah right. "toot.toot."~~ I do have some attractive men ~~or men with more then 1 tooth~~ who make google eyes at me ~~sometimes it is because they have a lazy eye~~.

But far to many times it is gay women who are mesmerised by my beauty. Or maybe they just think I am really kinky ~~cuz I am~~. Regardless. I get hit on by the same sex often. And sometimes it has caused trauma.

I know you are in suspense right now so I will tell the story.

There is a nasty ~~whore~~ chick in my town that has stuck her vulgar tongue in my ear (which I later washed out with bleach) and whispered how much she wanted to "do" me. I puked just writing that. Gag.

I told her ~~get the fuck away from me before I strangle you with your crab infested tongue~~ politely to "get the fuck away from me before I strangle you with your crab infested tongue." (please don't report me for cussing.) and went home to bleach my ear.

Did I mention that she was intoxicated because she is a foul mouthed drunk?

Sometime at a later date, the bag of vomit was at the bar again when my husband and I were there hanging with friends. I tried to hide from her. I did. I pleaded with my posse to leave and go somewhere where her crabs couldn't jump and catch us. They ignored my pleas. Apparently, they don't care about herpes infested crabs jumping on them, but I do!

Later in the night, she spied me. And she came running at mock speed to wrap her herped arms around me. And as she was coming at me, she hit me in the nose and I was bleeding all over my new shirt. Needless to say, I was furious.

Long story short. My husband and friend did my dirty work and pushed her drunk, VD'ed ass out the door. I fixed my nose and drank a shit load more. And the hooker went home.

But honestly. I get hit on more by girls then guys. I admit. When I am out with my girls we tend to look a little lesbianish. We kiss and hug and get all girly with squeals and tears and act like a bunch of mushy.....well....girls. And I don't care what people think because they are my girls. Like sisters. And I love them in a non-lover way. And I admit. I sometimes feel flattered because women want me (nah,nah,nah. Girls find me hot. Envy me yet?). I really do. But I would feel a whole lot better if the opposite sex wanted to rub my boobs too.

Anyone else have this problem? Hahaha. Like somebody is going to say "yes". Damn it.

I have now had 3 glasses of wine ~~oh yeah baby.....3 whole glasses and I am plastered ass drunk~~ and the liquid courage to post this post (I am a poet and didn't know it.). I fear the soap box jumpers as I can just hear how I judged gay people but seriously, I didn't. I didn't. I really, really don't care what you preference is. Mine is Freddie Prince Jr. I know he is a washed up wannabe actor but I think he is hot. I think blonde's are not (there's that poet thing again. damn I'm good.). I did however judge the drunk hooker. She is not a good person though so it is alright to judge her. Okay. I'm done. Toodles.

P.S.

I understand the Youtube videos now but I still have a generic piss of crap blog and would love some bling to it. Please.Please.Please. Pity me. Help me. Please?!

Holy Hell.....

2009-01-11T08:53:00.003-06:00

Last night was the first night I shit myself since ~~last week~~ I was a child.

Picture it. I was all snuggled in bed for the night. It was a good day filled with happy memories of family and friends. I was content and I was ready for a good night's rest. My husband lay next to me with contentment and gas. We just got home from hanging out with some sweet friends and we were pretty exhausted as our old asses shouldn't be out too late.

Earlier in the night me and my husband had date night. We went to a PG movie alone and it was fantastic. It was our second selection though because I was geared up to go see "The Unborn" which is supposed to be a pretty freaky show. I had it in my mind that I could handle seeing a show that pumps up my blood. Thank Goodness we didn't go.

As I was almost into my slumber....I hear something faint in the background. At first I shrugged it off as nothing or my imagination and closed my eyes again. Ten minutes later I awoke to a very disturbing sound.

I am not kidding when I say that it sounded like the devil himself. And then it resembled a ghost trying to talk from beyond the grave. You know what I am talking about. The words are drawn out, it echos a bit, it scares the living daylight out of me. Think of a ghost movie you know and listen to the ghost trying to speak. I would find it on youtube but I don't know how to add a video onto my blog. Plus, I am too spooked out to do it. But it really comes down to I don't know how to add a video to my blog. Blog failure.

Anyway, I smacked my husband and asked him if he heard it. He lazily said yes....he heard it too. And then went back to sleep. What the hell?

I'm on freak out time now. I swore there was a ghost or the devil in my abode. I started praying. I started chanting "The devil is not welcome here, you are not welcome here." I was seriously wigging.

I smacked my husband again.

"Listen Gosh Damn it. I heard it again. What the hell is it? Pray. Pray you idiot. Pray."

He rolls over and said:

"It's your screen saver on your laptop. You didn't shut it off. Can you please stop smacking me now?"

I considered his explanation and realized that it was in fact my screen saver. Then I realized my computer was possessed. Shit balls.

I smacked my husband again.

"Would you go shut the freaking thing off so I can get some sleep then?"

With a couple of cuss words, a lot of farting and probably thoughts of committing me to a psycho ward, he shut the possessed computer off.

In short. My computer is possessed. A priest will be here shortly. The End.

P.S. You must scroll down to and click on the link to a funny as shit youtube video. You will feel better about your own spawn after seeing it. And again. I cannot add videos to my blog. In case you have not noticed. I need help. And for God sakes, can somebody please instruct me on how to make my blog all pretty and nice. Seriously, I am sick to hell of my blog being generic. This is a plead for help people. Help me make my blog pretty. Pretty pretty please. Please.Please.Please. Help me.

The End.

2009-01-10T17:50:00.001-06:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4RnZeaTkCQ8

Why? What? Why?

2009-01-10T00:28:00.003-06:00

What the hell did I do to ruin my child. No. Why the hell did I torment my child when she was younger? I'm such a screw up. Seriously.

There is no way to say this without you thinking I am a crack head. But I have so much guilt and quite honestly, I could spit the fillings right out of my teeth right now.

When my daughter was about 4yrs old, she was being ~~Satan's spawn~~ a terror . I'm talking mouthy, whiny, crabby...just complete hell. And it was bedtime. And I was working full time and my husband was gone for the evening.

And no matter how many excuses I give you, you will still consider me a pile of shit.

I was dead on my feet tired. So. After pleading with my daughter to go to bed, I finally blew a gasket. And because she was afraid of alligators, I told her that I was going to go buy an alligator and put it in her room if she didn't go to sleep.

Five whole minutes later, the snot was snoring away. And I had an epiphany. Every.single.time that she struggled with me for slumber, I threw the "alligator" card at her.

And before you throw stones. Let me tell you this. Karma pissed in my cereal. Because at 11yrs old, the child is scared by her own reflection in the mirror.

Did you know that other children her age are already babysitting? Now I will admit. I am not that kind of mom. I could NOT allow my 5th grader to babysit. Yes. I maybe sheltering her. But I'm surprised that she can wipe her own ass. She is not a mature 11yr old by any means.

However, I do think that the child should be able to stay at home, with a friend, while I run errands in the same small town we live in or meet some friends for a beer.

Tonight her friend is spending the night and they begged for me and hubs to leave for awhile. Suspicious? Yes. I was. But we figured we had to let go sometime or another. So. We went to have a cocktail ~~or 5~~ . I laid down the law. No calling boys. No making a mess. No cooking. And I dished out consequences too. Me and hubs left the house feeling very uneasy as we anticipated the phone calls.

It wasn't 10minutes later, my cell phone rings. It's her telling me that she heard a funny noise. Uh-Huh. Okay. I calmed her nerves, told her to buck up and sipped my cold beverage some more.

The next phone call was more dramatic.

"Mom. We are scared. We are standing on the counter because we are afraid there is somebody in the house."

Please remember that we have 2 big dogs that are extremely over-protective that live indoors. This wasn't any help. I again told her to settle down, to get off the damn counter and to play the Wii.

And then I get the mother of all phone calls. {insert a hysterical girl here.}

"Mom. Come home quick. I cut myself bad and I am bleeding all over the place. We were scared so I was carrying a knife and it cut me. Come home NOW!"

I scurried home feeling like shit and was home under a minute. I busted through the door at mock speed just in time to see a freaking cut the size of a pubic hair and small amounts of blood. Seriously, I have had more blood when I popped a zit. Curse this child.

Needless to say. I left my hubs with the friends as he was ready to ground the daughter until she was 15yrs old and I put on my PJ's, made the girls go to bed early and cracked open a brewski.

Tomorrow we are going to recount the events leading up to her brain fart. Seriously. A knife???? She soooo knew better then this. And may I add that she will NOT have her cell phone back until I see that she matures.

Do you think the alligator trick will work again? Nah. Best to leave that ship sunk.

I do understand why some animals eat their young though. It's a good thing she's cute.

The soul reason I am heading to thearapy.

2009-01-09T13:38:00.002-06:00

Yes. She is a cutie. Yes. She has sparkling blue eyes. Yes. She can instantly put a smile on my face. Yes. She has ruby red lips. Yes. She fascinates me. Yes. She is the reason I live and breath. Yes. She is my daughter.

Yes. She makes me want to scream. Yes. She torments me with her anal-ness. Yes. She makes me want to drink excessively. Yes. She makes me cover my head under the blanket and pretend I am on a beach in Florida.

However, this is so much cheaper then therapy. I found my "zen" at Picnik. Thank you Picnik. You make me feel better by being a vindictive bitch of a mom. And for one single minute....the world is exactly where it should be ~~until the bratster arrives home with a friend at 3:30pm and I retreat to my blanket again.~~

The poor dogs got blamed again.

2009-01-08T12:35:00.003-06:00

Now, if you have a low tolerance for talking bodily functions or your gag reflex is already high due to pregnancy or just because you are odd, then this isn't the post for you. Come back tomorrow but for now, find a blog that is all roses and pretty.

Cause this isn't the place for you right now. That is your one and only warning. I promised that I would start making you all throw up in your mouths again and I fully intend to do that.

My dogs are always blamed for foul smells. Mainly because their breath does smell of rotting garbage 90% of the time. I brush their teeth, I give them doggy breath mints, I give them tums sometimes because Scooby has a tummy issue anyway and the tums double as a fruity scent. But for some God Awful reason, their breath continues to make me turn green.

So. My daughter was running a muck around the house, her friend was here doing homework (yes. I am a mother of many young, mouthy pre-hormonal girls. It bites!), my husband was laying on the couch sick, I was incoherent on the opposite side of the couch because it was time for bed, Vamp, the eldest dog, was inspecting the floor for any signs of scrap food (because she is a hog.) and Scooby, the youngest dog was needing some attention. The dogs are not permitted on our furniture however, Scooby will try to inconspicuously try and crawl onto your lap. She is a Lab and Vamp is a German Shepard/Lab and yes...they both believe they are lap dogs.

Scooby tried to sneak her way onto my lap. And then I smelled it. It was similar to a dead fish, a ashtray, a little bit of rotting meat and a whiff of spoiled milk. It was vulgar.

I instantly pushed her off my lap and turned green. I said something like:

"Good Lord, her breath is foul. Oh My. I think she is sick."

I was very worried that her insides started to die and that was the reason for that horrendous smell. My daughter stopped in her tracks and went into panic mode. "Oh no mom. Is she dying? She cannot die. I love her. Take her to the Vet NOW. You have to MOM. NOW!"

Her friend had a glazed look over her eyes as she was probably worried that Sheylee was going to spaz out and have a seizure or something terrible.

I was still swallowing vomit.

And then I saw it. My husband. Silently curled up under his blanket, trying to not laugh out loud. And I remembered. I remembered being ripped out of my dreams last night and into a stinky reality as his ass was singing a sickening tune. The air biscuits were lethal. And I am not being dramatic.....his ass stink woke me up from a dead sleep.

It's sorta slow motion for me now, but I remember coming to the realization that it wasn't the poor dog who almost suffered a trip to the vet, a colon cleanse and another teeth brushing round. And then I noticed even the dogs themselves were gagging and running to save their lives.

"You S.O.B.! Did you do that? You gross, putrid, PIG. You were going to let poor Scooby take the fall for you? You are a JERK."

He continued to laugh, I stuck a can of Febreeze up his hole, Sheylee finally settled down enough for me to tell her that her Dad was the one who was rotting inside his body, her friend continued on with her shirt over her nose the dogs were hiding somewhere (no doubt sniffing their own ass just to smell something better.) and I died. CPR was performed, George Cloony miraculously showed up to perform mouth to mouth, and Noah Wylie gave me a breast exam.

What? After that incident I needed to put something good in here.

Now excuse me while I go kick my husband in the head. Have a good day.

And I'm back....sorta....kinda...okay I'm trying.

2009-01-06T20:21:00.004-06:00

So as you can tell...the past few months haven't exactly been exceptional for me. They haven't even been alright with me. They have been more like....ummm...~~shit on a shingle~~ somebody running me over with a tractor. There....that sums it up well.

And I was in a rut.

And because when I am in a foul mood or a rut, I have the tendency to bring others down with me. Not on purpose ~~all the time~~. It's like a foul smell that lingers on me though and usually, people just pick up on it and get sorta sad too. And I don't like sad, sappy, woe-is-me personalities. Sure, once in awhile everyone does it, but the type that bitch and moan but choose to do nothing about it pisses me off.

Where was I going with this???? Oh yeah....ahem.

So I have stopped commenting on every ones blogs. I keep it real here so I gotta say this. Sometimes I would be jealous. Not over materialistic items or any shit like that, but jealous that they were happy and I was a big pile of poo.

I just peed my pants a little. Sorry. I have to make sure you are paying attention because this is going to be a long ass post.

Trust me when I say that I also see that I have it pretty damn good too. I am a positive person ~~somtimes~~ but these last few months have beat me down something good. I just wanted to hide in my hole and wallow in my own ~~pee~~.....I mean pity. There's no excuse for my actions, but I am going to slowly wean myself back into life. I'm giving it a go people.

To show that even though I lacked in commenting on blogs I still visited....and you cannot prove otherwise......

So, a little linky love from me. Just as long as I don't get picked on because I forgot someone. My brain is still a little mushy and although I swear I am going to crawl out from under the rock I have been living under it won't happen over night. But I am going to be a happy, smart-assed, wise cracking, ~~whore~~, sex talking, butt licking...um...I meant kissing, girl you all love (or hate) so well. And I promise you this....I will make you vomit in your mouths over and over again.....just like old times.

Also, I am a underachiever, so I always have that excuse going for me too.

Let's begin.....

side note. I realize that you probably all know the information I am writing about my blog friends but you just need to pretend that you didn't know. Shake your head, say "OOoohhh" or "AAaaahhhh" and freaking humor me for a minute. There will be a pop quiz too.

Kel. By Golly I love this girl. She ran a marathon this past summer (that does make me want to smack her a little too.) and she wanted to get smashing drunk on New Years Eve (facebook told me that.) She is such a doll face and did you know that she, being the sweetie she is, sent me a beautiful bracelet that I wear every.single.day that makes me remember my Father in Law and that I have friends all over the U.S of A. Lovvvveeee......Heeerrrrr!

side note again. I forgot how to hyperlink. Wait. I think I remember. We can resume.

Kat. Guess what? She is prego with her 4th child. Oh.My.Gawd. And we already know that her and her hubby "make & bake" some delicious boys. They are cute. I wish I lived closer. I do. Because I love newbies. I would spoil that baby rotten however, I do not like the terrible two's so well so I give the kiddo's back when they enter this stage. My daughter ruined me of toddlers. She was Satan's spawn. H.O.R.R.I.B.L.E.

side note again again. My daughter is going to get her neck rung if she doesn't stop interrupting me. Just saying.

April. Oh yeah. She is baking a baby too. Her first. And I suppose Big D had something to do with it as well but I don't believe I need to tell you about sex ed....Do I? Anyway, she has been wishing and hoping and praying for this little "Cashew" for sometime now and I couldn't be happier for her. Yeah. And. If I lived close to her too, I would freaking smother that "Cashew" with lots of kisses.

Tara. She is just too sweet. And. She is up for a award so go....go now. Vote for her. She is a great friend, a supporter, a damn cool gal. Seriously. Go now. Go vote. She deserves to win. Go. Tara. Why the heck are you still here? Oh. Wait. Finish my post, then go vote. So. Go. Vote. Got it?

Cyndy. She always puts things into perspective. She is deep. She is insightful. She is Dysfunctional too. I love the way she views life. I love her posts. They are beautiful. And she has always been a good friend. Yes. She purposely rubs it in my face that she lives in sunny Florida while I live in South "Frozen" Dakota but I'll let her get by with it. I bet if I told her I wanted to come live with her she would let me. Hmmmm....there's a thought. I'm betting Tara would too. Hmmmm.

Holy Hell I'm getting tired. ZZZzzzzzz.

Oh my Huckdoll. She doesn't live in the "hood" anymore but she is still well and good. She has a new found love of life. She is back to work at a job she loves (who the hell has a job they love?), has her two beautiful look-a-likes and good friends. She is moving on up in the world people and I love watching her move. She deserves a "Woo-Hoo."

We all know and love a Bun, right? She took a couple weeks off from blogging to spend some time with her family (as if?!?!) but she is baaaackkk. She is a very amazing lady. She works, she has two adorable children, a cool husband, a couple of dogs, a house and a blog. Good Gawd I just got winded from writing that. How the hell does she do it. What's the freaking secret here?

Jennifer. What a sweetie. Thankfully her little boy is out of the hospital all happy and well and things seem to be a-okay now. She is funny, cute as hell, a terrific mother and has an amazing faith. Inspiring faith is more like it.

I cannot feel my fingers. They are numb. I think I see a light. "God, is that you? God???" Wait. "Damn it husband, why are you shining a flashlight in my eyes again?"

Kori. If you don't do anything other then going and visiting her sight and leaving her some love I would be happy. She needs prayers, support and laughter. She is a wonderful, wonderful mom, devoted wife to a sick husband who equally needs your prayers and even though life has thrown her some wrenches, she is a true believer in God. She recently had to go through some tests that may not be news she wanted nor needed to hear. My heart is bleeding right now. Not because I fear for her, but because she just doesn't need this right now. I am begging, on my knees begging, for her to get some good news. Oh Kori dear, I just love you and you are such a leader to me. I could only hope that I could be as strong as you. Words could never express how deeply you have touched me.

Please get down on bended knees and pray with me.

Patios. I believe Patios entered my life about the time I lost my father-in-law. And she has been a welcomed guest ever since. She thinks I'm funny and I think she is spectacular. I don't think I told her this yet. Patios....do you hear me? I think you are awesome girlfriend.

Sandy. What a dolly. I do believe that I always think of the "Haunted House" when I think of her. I laugh because I see me just as freaked out. I shiver because I swear, I heard a funny noise. I can't help it. I know she is much more then this, like lovable, priceless and fabulous, but I always laugh about this post. Funny.

OhMommy. You must leave in a cave if you don't know Ohmommy. Her writing is pure brilliance. When she writes about her kids, you feel as if you actually know them. She can suck you in with a few classy words. Her children are precious and her Lola is a firecracker like me. But cuter. And....yeah...cuter.

Okay. I know I am not done but when I start typing like this: "jru///jpe str upo?" I either:

A) Am losing consciousness from blog/linky/post overload or

B) Drinking three glasses of wine ~~with my "Happy Pills Cocktail"~~ has made me a little tipsy.

I must leave it at this. Don't fret. I'm going to make a effort. I swear. I will be around the bloggy town. Okay. I'm just plain drunk. Shit. Hangover tomorrow. Ugh.

Nighty-Night friends. Mwah.

I'm Freeeee-Free Balling.

2009-01-06T00:06:00.004-06:00

Riddle me this. How can I; sophisticated, classy, uber-super, glorious me, be the wife of a man that wears shorts, knee-high socks and slippers out into the blistering cold? A man that scratches his balls in public because he is free-balling it (the only reason for the title of this post). A man that doesn't know that white socks do not mesh with black shoes.

And furthermore, how can I be the mother to a girl that farts in her hand to sniff it? Or who has such toxic gas in her bowels that she could be the soul reason for the hole in our ozone.

Something just isn't right here.

Honestly, I ooze "Posh" from my pores. If you bite me, I would taste of candy. I can wear a potato sack and still make it look good. I could be a bit more discreet about my terrificness but I would only be denying the obvious. So. I'm gonna just shoot the shit straight. I am a rock star.

Try not to be jealous. Jealousy can cause wrinkles. I'm only trying to help you.

Now. Try to refrain yourself from asking any of my beauty secrets. I will not share. There can only be one of me.

Is it just me or do you see the striking resemblance between me and Angelina Jolie?

A Punch in The Gut.

2009-01-03T21:25:00.002-06:00

Have you ever been like me? The type of person that wants to sucker punch those people that have all the good luck? Wouldn't you just love to rip their lips off when they speak of all the good luck they have? Or is it just me ~~as always~~????

I know some ~~shit heads~~ people that just love to rub their good luck into my bad lucked face. The braggers. The people who never have a worry, never have a care. They don't know what true stress is and their biggest gripe is they don't get to shop as often as they would like. ~~fuck, fuck, fuckers!~~

Usually I just roll my eyes and ignore those ignorant piss ants. But today I cannot ignore them. I want to rub their face in some shit or something. I don't wish bad luck on them ~~uh huh~~ but I wouldn't mind seeing them get a gigantic cyst on their ass. Or maybe a huge hemorrhoid that makes them pray to the Preparation H Gods. I don't wish death, illness or disease on them.....but a zit the size of a marshmallow on their nose would do me fine. Is this really too much to ask????

But instead, they have flawless skin and no apparent hemorrhoids. And if they did have a massive skin defect, they have the bank account to have it surgically removed. And then too top it all off, they are twig like creatures but still have "Lose 10lbs" on their resolution list. This makes me want to shove my fist down their face hole. The only place they could possibly lose 10lbs is in their huge ego. It's my theory that they only say this so fat people can say things like "Oh please, I wish I looked like you." or "Whatever, you are so thin and cute and perfect." You know the type....Pity Pushers. They suck ass.

I could be a bit angry right now. Seriously, I could a bit vengeful and pissed off at the world. I could be taking my shitty attitude out on them. I realize that I should be seeking therapy.

But for today, I'm restraining myself from shoving a stick up their tight ass.

Not off to a good start.....

2009-01-02T12:52:00.002-06:00

It's officially the second day into 2009 and already, yes already, our year stinks. It smells like shit actually. It isn't what I anticipated.

That could have been my biggest mistake. I anticipated a great year. I was hoping that my best day in 2008 would be my worst day in 2009. I am so naive.

My resolutions were short and most likely would be nothing more then a thought but damn if I didn't wish I could dive into those resolutions now instead of stressing out and worrying.

I felt it in my bones. I felt a strange feeling that something would drag us down again. We are the typical family that anything good comes with a price. Darn it....there is nothing in this world for free. Everything is a price. It's silly. It's discouraging. It's pissing me off.

I don't want to get into my drama. I don't feel like talking about it. I would rather wallow in my pity for a few days and then snapping out of it as I always do. We have each other, family, friends, health, a house, vehicles and we are able to pay our bills. And most importantly, we have God in this house. We are always supposed to "Give our worries to him" and I am trying so hard to do that.

Anywho. I think what is more discomforting is the fact that since we moved to South Dakota, 6 years ago, we have had some rotten luck. It is always one thing after another. We get beat up quite often. Because I am optimistic, I always know it could be worse. I have seen worse. And I am still thanking God for the blessings I have. So. The glass is half full....right?

I have nothing witty to say. I have nothing sarcastic to add. I don't have any energy and very little humor. I'm plastering a cheesy smile on my face for my daughter, husband, niece and nephew who are staying with us for a few days. I'm pretending that I am relaxed and calm. In reality, I want to scream and possibly harm a few people. Seriously, I could bang a few heads together right now. I would feel sooooo much better. Hmmm.....

If you have a few extra seconds just pray for peace for us. That's it. The holidays sucked without Dave (My father-in-law) and we have cried many tears because we could totally use his expertise advice. Happy New Year (blah, blah, blah.)

How to be a firecracker.

2008-12-27T09:42:00.004-06:00

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 note...men 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.

I survived.

2008-12-26T08:02:00.002-06:00

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.

I Quit.

2008-12-23T21:02:00.002-06:00

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 loser~~amazing 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.

Because I have nothing else.

2008-12-21T09:44:00.004-06:00

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.

The "real" Christmas Card.

2008-12-16T07:13:00.002-06:00

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.

Love,
Krissy.

What is a Cracker to do?

2008-12-15T12:21:00.003-06:00

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. Seriously...it 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.

A fly on our wall....

2008-12-08T10:43:00.002-06:00

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 "Moooommmm..mom....mommm..." 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.

You cannot laugh!!!

2008-12-04T20:56:00.002-06:00

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

*sigh*

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 me.....you 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 shave.it.bald. 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 them....my 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.

A side of Humor with my Insanity.

2008-12-01T20:17:00.006-06:00

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.

So...at 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 God....you need to start wiping your own butt!"

I heard Sheylee say:

"Oh my Gosh...you 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!

My day in a crazy nutshell.

2008-11-25T11:03:00.006-06:00

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.

Sincerely,
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.

The Power of Screaming

2008-11-24T20:44:00.004-06:00

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

Sex talks and giggles.

2008-11-19T22:38:00.004-06:00

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 every.time.you.mention.sex.

"Ewwwwww."

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. Well...my 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:

"Ewwwwww....you 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.

I'm a crotchety, menopausal, stupid moron.

2008-11-16T21:47:00.004-06:00

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 it.....it 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 Kel....my 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"

Oh Sweet Biscuts....

2008-11-11T15:44:00.002-06:00

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.

ZZZZZzzzzz....so until tomorrow.

How do you not wish......

2008-11-10T08:13:00.003-06:00

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 it.....today 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.

When I get to thinking....

2008-11-08T08:52:00.002-06:00

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.

So....it 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.

Must....Get....Help.

2008-11-05T06:04:00.004-06:00

Somebody help me. Anyone. I am desperately needing a intervention.

I am a "As Seen On T.V." freak!!

Example:

Magic Putty.

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!!!!!

Listen Up.

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!!!!!!

Save A blade.

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!!!!

Ultra Lawn Patch.

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 PediEgg.....works 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.......... http://www.asseenontv.com/) 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.

Just in case you didn't know me yet.

2008-10-31T07:43:00.002-05:00

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.....

2008-10-28T07:33:00.006-05:00

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

2008-10-24T07:59:00.004-05:00

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.

2008-10-22T18:23:00.002-05:00

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.

2008-10-17T13:26:00.002-05:00

“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.

2008-10-15T07:48:00.003-05:00

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.

2008-10-14T08:02:00.005-05:00

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.

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.

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.

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.
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.

2008-10-11T10:31:00.002-05:00

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????

2008-10-06T16:21:00.003-05:00

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.

2008-10-02T23:38:00.002-05:00

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.

2008-10-01T20:49:00.002-05:00

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.

2008-10-01T07:59:00.002-05:00

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.

My questions not answered...

2008-09-29T14:31:00.002-05:00

I have been working my fingers to the bone. They are red, bloody stumps as we speak. My keyboard is on fire. I set out on a quest and accomplished.....NOTHING.

I've been searching the web for some different ways to handle stress instead of popping a pill every couple of hours. Not that I care if you pop a pill all the time however, I don't want it to be me always popping the pill. So I diligently worked my way through 400pages on google looking for some sure fire ways to control my panic, anxiety and sleep deprivation.

Some of the ideas sounded legit. I decided to try practicing deep breathing. I hyperventilated. I tried drinking tea. I gave myself a urinary tract infection. I tried rubbing pressure points on my body. I got bruised. I tried to find outlets like exercise or hobbies. I'm just lazy. I tried praying. God asked me to leave him alone for awhile so he can take care of other issues like war, the devil and sickness. I tried focusing my energy on other activities. I buried myself in my bedroom cleaning and threw up because I was so crapping hot. And then I popped a couple of pills. I tried cooking and burned my arm. It is a festering blister now.

You see. It doesn't work. For me. Yet, I am really happy.

Yes. I only gave it a few moments to try these techniques and then gave up. I give up easily. Go ahead, call me a quitter because I will call you fat. Just saying.

So you see. I'm a happy pill popper. I'm not gonna lie. Stress is like a heavy cloud that dangles over your head. Especially if you are like me and never, ever stop stressing. There were days that I was so consumed that I couldn't even get into the shower. I would physically be exhausted. So I turned to a pretty little pink pill that makes stress a little more tolerable. It doesn't take away stress. But I don't get consumed in all my gloom all.day.long. I have moments. There are dark moments for me and my family. Like when I am pissed and I am flying off the handle and then turn on a dime and start sobbing. Actually, now that I think about it....their facial expressions are comical. They look like I just shot them with a stun gun or something. Even the dogs quietly move into a different room when I am on a rampage. Luckily, it only takes a brief second for me to apologize and smother my family with kisses when I fly off the handle. But I do fly off the handle. Ask my husband. He will be happy to tell you. He likes sympathy since he doesn't get any from his bitch of a wife. And he's a drama king too.

But I am a pill popper and I like it. If I was stranded on a desert island, all I would need is diet coke (fountain preferably), my pills and Qtips. I would be A-okay. And bug spray. I hate bugs. And a good looking cabana boy would be acceptable too. Actually, I would like to be stranded on a desert island with all the above things.

Especially a hot, sultry, sweaty, tan cabana boy who resembles Patrick Dempsey carrying a fountain diet coke in one hand and my pills in the other. Oh my.

Excuse me. I have a date with my shower.

P.S. I love being happy :-)

Thankfulness.

2008-09-25T23:00:00.005-05:00

I am thankful for so much. I know I can be whiny but truly...I am thankful. Obviously, my family, friends, dogs, teachers, GOD, love and so on is top of the list always. But there are little reasons to be thankful for as well.

Sex Toys. Like you didn't know I would go there.

Dishwashers. Oh sweet Mary...I love my dishwasher.

Taco Johns. I worship Taco Johns. The grease is like the cherry on the top for me.

Magic Erasers. These miracle sponges amaze me and I cannot clean without them.

Medication. I can't even fathom how sucky my life would be without my meds.

Fountain Diet Coke. My nirvana.

Socks. To cover nasty swamp paddles.

Yoga. Breathing. Relaxation.

Taco Johns. Mmmmm....greasy. greasy. tacos. I know I already mentioned this. I'm craving it now though so it was worthy of a second bullet.

T.V. Shows like Ghost Whisperer. I get lost for an hour watching Ghost Whisperer.

Football. I love football. Especially my green team: The Packers!

Calculators. I can't remember 6 X 7. I hate math.

Spanx. Anything that helps suck in the tummy is a good thing.

Toothpaste. I cannot stand raunchy breathe.

Tylenol PM. For those nights that sleep is a challenge.

Qtips. So I can itch the ear drum.

Karaoke. I suck but I have the best time.

Garage Sells. I love cheap shit.

At home drug tests. I will stock up on those when the time comes.

Phone. I should have it surgically attached to my ears.

Fans. I wouldn't sleep if it wasn't for my trusty fan.

America's Funniest Home Videos. Who doesn't love this show??? Cracks me up.

You Tube. So I can watch clips of America's Funniest Home Videos. (click to watch funny shit.)

Dancing with the Stars. Max is back this year and looking hot as ever and of course the little cutie Mark Ballas (even though he never looked cuter then when he was with Sabrina, Cheetah Girl Extraordinaire and I do.not.like.Kim Kasharidian!)

And lastly I am thankful that my husbands chest pains are gone. That my medications make me less sad and depressed and in need of a straight jacket and I'm really excited for Wheel of Fortune because I am a POWERHOUSE at that game and want to be a contestant on the show someday (friends week because I don't wanna do it alone!)

This is my Thankful blog. I do like being thankful. And as always...I am thankful for you, and you, and you, and you, and you.........

Love you all....

Crap...Crap...Crap.

2008-09-25T22:08:00.005-05:00

My computer went on the blitz for a brief time until my uber great husband formatted it. Luckily, he saved the billion of pictures that I am to lazy to store on our external hard drive. Not so luckily, I lost all my favorites and all my email addresses and all my sanity.

So, now I am clicking on all the blogs I remember by heart, finding all my super doper friends from their blogs and adding them as favorites. Next, I am trying to remember 10 million passwords to get into different sites. Then I am going to have to download Microsoft back onto my computer so I have spell check on my emails. Then I am going to try to add as many emails into my contact list. Then I am going to stick my head in the toilet and give myself a swirly.

I do not have patience. I have no patience what.so.ever. So while my husband and daughter were missing tonight I started the process of the above list and I must say....I started talking to myself in tongues and swearing like a mother "f"er. And then I just start giggling uncontrollably just to start crying ten seconds later. Then I jumped up and down, kicked the dog, sucked my thumb and finally took 2 Tylenol Pm's so I will knock my crazy ass out.

And then I came here to vent my frustrations and to re-read this post to realize that I am a whacko. LOL!

My favorite quote of the day:

"A friend sees your first tear, catches the second tear and kills the motherfucker that caused the third tear!"

And so you know, if you want me to break some knee caps of the person that has caused you tears.....I am your ho'. Yes. I am that kinda friend. :-) And I also find funny pictures that make you laugh. Cuz I'm nice like that.

I will be pissing with my personal computer issues all weekend and by Monday of 2010...I should be finished.

And NO....this is not me. I've been fortunate enough that there was never a camera around when I pissed down my leg. Okay, there is this one picture but I promise....you will never see it!

NOTE: I just realized that I could go through my comments and find all my favorite blogs. I am such a stupid bitch. *sigh*

Second Note: My daughter asked my husband if she could wash away puberty. Bwhahahaha!

You know you are cool when....

2008-09-23T16:03:00.004-05:00

You sing (or yell really loud to a good song) in your car only to realize the windows are open and people are staring.

You trip on a old person's wheelchair because you were in a big hurry and they were not moving fast enough for you.

Your husband farts in your face with your mouth open.

You stand in front of the mirror and run in place to see how bad the Buddha's bounce up and down.

You forget your daughter's friends are over doing homework and you fart loudly and don't realize they are laughing at you until one of them turns green.

You carry a large bag of dog food down the stairs and then realize the bag was open and is only half full by time you make it to it's place.

Strangers that only know you from other friends call you "Firecracker" or "WildOne" and they actually do not know your real name.

You gag loudly at a restaurant while eating lunch with a friend because you found a big piece of gnarly hair in your food that was clearly....NOT YOURS! *gagging now! Ack*

You tell your friend that you haven't talked to in a few months that you are pregnant and wait for their funny reaction.

Tell your daughters friends that if they don't stop driving you nuts you are going to hang yourself.

Get really cool bloggy awards from a terrific friend (Kel) that makes you all giddy inside when you read this:

Krissy @FirecrackerMom - She keeps it down to earth with no sugar coating life. A woman of amazing strength who raises her daughter, is a wonderful wife and juggles the mired of crap life deals her with a fight that I can only envy. She's there to make me chuckle (sometime throw up in my mouth) and plot revenge in the need arises. Thanks for being a friend!

Thank you Kel!

And finally...you laugh until you faint because of something like this:

Whatcha gotta say about this??????

2008-09-23T08:11:00.003-05:00

Oh my goodness. I am shocked to say the least. I have been told by many poor saps that they are completely jealous of my husband. Why??? Because his wife (me.) likes sex and likes sex to be exciting and new. Not the same old routine of getting into bed, taking off your own clothes, discussing who will be on top this time, and then sleeping in less then 5minutes.

So I wonder what people would say if I told them that I tell my husband "no" sometimes too? I admit...it isn't often. But I do tell him "no!" I do get "Headache's" sometimes and I do miss having my period because it was a good excuse to have some peace.

Now granted. I am also the wife that has sex on a country dirt road in the backseat of the car and I have had sex on the slide in our backyard and I have had raunchy sex in the rain. Oh shut up....you know you have too. Your just too shy to admit it.

But I don't always give in. I do like sex. I do like orgasms. I don't fake it....no reason too when you know what you are doing. This means get your ass to Partygals and get a damn toy or some Love Potion #9 so you can also have some orgasms. Just saying. You can be me too.

But this jealousy comment makes me laugh. I never fancied myself as a person that someone else would be jealous of. Me??? Are you kidding? I don't have the brand new cars or the high dollar house or the expensive as shit wardrobe. I am the one who paid off her cars and swore that I would have my uterus back in my body before I ever have another new car payment. That sucks. I don't need the super big ass house that cost over $1000 a month because I want a modest house so my money could be spent on fun things. I don't have the Armani wardrobe because I shop at clearance racks at Target or second hand shops. I have designer labels but I guarantee I did not pay full price for them or I am the proud second owner for the designer jeans. I am determined to pay off all our bills so we have money to blow. That is my 10yr plan. This is nothing to be jealous of.

So I was oddly proud to be a person of envy. Well, actually, my husband is the envied one and I am the one who looks like the SuperWife of the year. I kinda like that. I admit. I would much rather someone be jealous of me because I have a ass that you could bounce a dime off of and not an ass that has fat dimples, but I will take what I can get.

Now I am going to go tell my husband that he is the luckiest man alive and for that, he better buy me something damn good and not something off the clearance rack. Actually, I would take the DVD set of Ghost Whisperer which I just realized after reading this that I am a complete utter retard.

Goodbye.

How to screw with your kid.....

2008-09-17T23:35:00.002-05:00

Tell them you are going on a "camping adventure." Don't answer specific questions like "Do I get to miss school?" Skate around questions like we always do as parents anyway. No??? Okay, it's just me but whatever! Moving on!

Jump in the car fast. Go to your local sporting goods store. Once you are there, find the camping equipment. They will most likely think that you are shopping.

Take pictures. Pictures sorta seal the deal here. You'll know why in a minute.

Then go home. Without purchasing anything. And then drop the bomb. "That was a camping adventure. What? You didn't have fun? Sorry. I thought you would be happy. Gee, I guess I won't do anything special for you ever again." And when you get home...show them the pictures for proof of your "camping adventure!"

Or you could tell them that you are going on a trip that has rides. Get them excited. They will think you are going to Disney World or some place fun.

Then take them to the mall and put them on the merry go round ride. This is really messing with their heads.

Don't feel bad about this. They mess with your head all.the.time. They will use guilt, tears, smiles, "I love Yous" and the worst........their puppy dog eyes. They are tyrants. They know that they should be grounded for putting your favorite shoes in the toilet (yes...my daughter did this!) but they turn on the waterworks and suddenly, they are free. They have no conscious. It is time for us to get even.

Hello???? Is this thing on???? *tap, tap*

Am I alone on this?????

Out of the mouth of MY babe....

2008-09-16T21:11:00.003-05:00

How is it that kids know just what to say? Especially when you need it the most. I'm seriously the proud mother of a very sensitive, very sweet daughter.

Diva: "Mom, did you know that you are by far the coolest mom EVER?"

Me: "Thank you Stink, but I'm outta checks so you will get nothing more!"

Diva: "I don't want anything else, except another Webkinz, but that isn't why I told you that. I told you that because all my friends want you as a mom!"

Me: "I am not getting you another Webkinz. You just got one plus I just sold a kidney to buy stuff from your schools fundraiser. And Christmas is coming. But I'm glad your friends like me."

Diva: "Your a ROCKSTAR!!"

Me: "As are you sweetkins!"

note: I am sick to death of school fundraisers. I paid over $20 for a stupid little silicone thingy-ma-jig. R.I.D.I.C.U.L.O.U.S.

Earlier today Diva and her friend came rushing into the house.

Diva: "Mom...Mom....MOOOMMMM! I am going to be in a commercial. You know so-and-so's dad? Well, he asked for me to be in a commercial. I think it is because I am hot!"

Friend: "Hey...ME TOO! I'm hot too. And I am going to be in the commercial. Can you sign the release form for me?"

Me: "Diva. Stop being conceited. Friend. No. Your actual mom has to do that. You know her. The one that birthed you. She has to do it. And who the hell just asked you to be in a commercial and if it was a stranger I am going to beat your butts!"

Diva: "You know him. He gave me a card to give you. You are supposed to call him."

Friend: "Well....can you at least call my real mother?"

For the record, the story jived and I actually do know the dad and he is very cool and so not a molester or a child thief. And I did call friends real mom and she is going to be in the commercial too. A local commercial of course. We are not that damn cool.

I love being a mom. To my real daughter and to the numerous adopted children that have staked claim to me.

Note: I don't always look this shitty. And please ignore the fillings in my mouth. And Diva is now self conscious because she has a "Twisted Sister" tongue. Ha!

Extra note: I love you people. The comments and of course, the emails. I love you people. And to my sweet friends whom called me today to tell me to settle down, you are my life lines. Mwah!

The lesser of two evils.

2008-09-16T08:20:00.009-05:00

Do I blog or do I carefully watch my husband as he is having chest pains?

Do I blog or do I secretly peep in on my husbands office to make sure he is alive?

Do I blog or do I quietly call the doctor and ask 10,001 questions?

Do I blog or do I not so quietly sob in my pillow because I am worried?

Do I blog or do I drug myself so I don't freak my husband out any more?

Do I blog or do I hold my stomach because it hurts from the stress?

Do I blog or do I quickly go for a brisk walk to clear my head?

Yep, I am consumed with fear. My husband will be fine. I am sure. The doctor is sure. I figure if I keep saying this I will convince myself. But I still worry, cry and weep because he is the rock in the family and he cannot be hurting. He tries to put on a brave face yet I can see the fear in his eyes too. Arm pains going into the jaw. Chest pains. High blood pressure. I am freaking out my friends. I do not like him hurting.

I'm only gonna ask for some prayers that he feels better and the doctor can fix him. And pray that I have enough strength to stay strong. Strength is something I lack daily. I am not strong. Actually, (shhhh...don't tell) I am a very weak person. It is true. You may all be thinking "yeah right!" but honestly, I am a very weak, weak person. Worry attacks me daily. I worry about things that cannot be fixed. I worry about "What if's?" and I worry about things that are plain and simply stupid. I am a worrier and I am very weak.

Know that I still visit your blogs even though I haven't commented like forever. I am so sorry. These "issues" have been sucking the life out of me and I find myself just not wanting to talk to anyone as I can break down in tears at any given moment. This past weekend my husband went on a very relaxing fishing trip with his best bud and I played the part of "freedom from worry" very well. I convinced those who know my deep dark fears that I was doing better, yet inside I was scared. I tell you this only because I need to find an outlet soon. The truth is, this blog was going to be private. I wasn't going to allow anyone to read my thoughts. I needed to find a safe place from all the issues I was having with my health. Then I realized that the greatest source of strength comes from those who choose to lift you up when you are down. People who are not selfish and will not judge and will walk with you when you are in the dark. People who have faith and love for God. People who will put aside their problems to give me an ounce of love. And even though I have never met you face to face, you always seem to lift me up. Thanks for that.

Okay, enough with the daytime Emmy stuff here. Happy thoughts! Must.think.happy.thoughts.

I visited a blog last night that had me chuckling. Ohmommy found a very fun spot that entertained me for awhile. I will share the pictures that made me snort.

This is my husband. I laughed until my stomach hurt. I am laughing out loud right now.

Wishful thinking. I know. But I love David. He is sooooooo fabulous. That body. Good Lord, that body. Look very closely at the tattoo and his cell phone hanging from his neck. It is me. Yummy.

My husband didn't like this picture. He doesn't like to think of her getting married. I laughed because she would wear something this 80's on her wedding day.

Mona Lisa had a few dirty secrets. She was secretly a man. Or she just had issues with facial hair and waxing wasn't an option back then. My husband isn't a very pretty woman either.

I really resemble Yoda more then Obie.

We call Stink "SuperS" sometimes so this is fitting. She looks like a dork. I love it.

I am printing these off and hanging them on the wall!

"Laughter is the best medicine for a worried soul" Firecrackermomma said that.

You asked...you shall receive........

2008-09-11T17:11:00.002-05:00

There are some questions that I haven't addressed yet. They are not interesting. Well, a couple could be interesting I suppose. I won't necessarily write the questions down, but you will understand the all the same.

I'm lazy like that.

I am saving my hard earned money for a Nikon camera. I like the Cannon camera's just as well however, the Nikon stole my heart. That's not to say that my ADHD won't set in and I won't change my mind a thousand times as I really don't remember WHY? I went with the Nikon.

My husband and I are currently on the Dave Ramsey's Plan for Debt relief. Actually, we have done it before. We paid off credit cards, my car payment, our Jeep payment, our motorcycle payment and a couple of other bills. But now since I have had a rough couple of years with health, we are working on the medical bills that I swear by all that is holy, we have been robbed. That's another problem that I don't want to speak about. Anyway, we do the envelope system. We pull out cash for all the things like groceries, extra activities, fun money, etc. It is in a effort to recognize where all the money goes. It is sometimes difficult as I see shoes that make my heart leap out of my chest, gives me orgasms and makes me itch to put them on my feet. Then I remember that I don't carry debit cards, checks or credit cards with me any longer and only have my cash that needs to last for two weeks. Then I break something.

I don't really like the taste of any alcohol. Honestly. I crave it at times just to ease my wound up nerves. Tomato beers are my fav followed by Miller chill or Boulevards. But I drink only socially and my beverage of choice is Diet Coke.

I love T.V. and I need it on. For background noise more so then anything. I do not worry about the effects it has on my family or my daughter. First and foremost, without tooting my own horn, my daughter is a very smart gal. She has excelled in school and continues to do so. As a matter of fact, she very rarely watches T.V. with the exception of Hanna Montana. The fact is, it isn't a temptation for her. Commercials suck. I admit. However, they can also open up a door of conversation. Speaking to her about situations. Sometimes difficult conversations that are hard to bring up unless you have a reason. I'm not saying that T.V. should be used as a babysitter and some people abuse it.

My dogs drive me nuts but they are sorta like my other furry children. But really, everyone that lives in this house drive me nuts.

I have huge issues with parents that cannot tell their children No every now and then. Cripes. And I get sick to death of parents that do not show their children what consequences are and then bitch when their kids get into trouble. Duh! And what the hell is with parents allowing their kids to hit them?????? I don't understand.

Diva is in a dance group that is very new age hip. The group is awesome and it has become a second family for us. I love it, she loves it and even the boring ole' dad loves it.

I'm hot. Not like sexy hot, but having a hot flash "hot!"

I am going to get another tattoo. On my other foot. So I don't walk funny and the weight evens out. Ha! I don't know when. The Dave Ramsey Plan shot that in the foot.

Time to make supper. More to come later.

My big cause......

2008-09-10T21:30:00.003-05:00

Please pray for a bloggy family that I love dearly. Kori and her family needs you to talk to God right now. I love Kori. I love her strength...her love...her faith...everything. I just love her. I will not give you the story because I sorta didn't ask her if I could link but because I have done it before I'm taking a wild guess that she will approve. But please take a few minutes to get on bended knee and also to stop by and give her support.

Kori....read on. This is for you and all the other people I know effected by Cancer.

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

I just did something that may or may not surprise you. But I need your help.

As most of you know, I am a big supporter of St. Jude. I have lost people to cancer and seen many more struggle to win their battle with cancer. I hate the word cancer. Nowadays it seems that anything you do can cause cancer. It is very scary. I also know for a fact that awareness and funding are the best way to fight the beast. Here is where I am going with this. Here is where you may think I have lost my marbles, unless you already think I lost my marbles years ago.

I am going to coordinate a Walk-A-Thon to which all donations will be sent directly to St. Jude for research. St. Jude is a phenomenal organization that has helped thousands upon thousands of children. I will not bore you with the details and I will just ask that if you don't know about St. Jude, then visit their website to find out more information. This Walk-A-Thon is scheduled for Oct. 4th. The first Saturday of the month. It may or not be cold. You never know with South Dakota weather. But I think walking in cold weather is simple compared to what some children endure while battling cancer. Would you agree?

Why am I doing this? Well first and foremost, my daughter will be highly involved with this. I want to teach her that we all have a job to do. We all have sacrifices to make to help others. That you can help with whatever cause you believe in the most. I want her to see her mother working her tail end off to help with a organization that I believe in the most. My hope is someday she will find a purpose in fundraising, whatever sort of fundraising she chooses. It is a life lesson and I think it takes a lot of heart. And I know my daughter well enough to know that she has plenty of heart. She is a sensitive child and I feel that this is the best way for her to showcase her sensitivity. St. Jude may be my choice of organizations but hers could be something entirely different as she grows older. And I want her to know that you can do this for any organization. Whatever it may be.

Does it make sense to you?

I need help though. If you feel so kind as to help, I am only asking that you will sign up to walk on that date. And to get a sponsor(s) to help with donations. It could be $5 or $500 dollars or more. The minimum will be $5. And you could sponsor yourself. I am going to organize the best Walk-A-Thon this city has ever seen. I am getting sponsors to help with cost and I am getting donations to hand over to St. Jude. If I have a big check, some of the proceeds may go to toys and such for the hospital to have for their patients. It hasn't been determined yet. And I am also considering finding one sponsor to fund a quick trip down there so Sheylee can hand the check over and visit the sick patients in which she just helped. That is very tentative right now though. I would much rather see all money going to them. We will see.

I hope you can all understand that I hate Cancer and I want it to go away. This isn't for glory as some insensitive people would say. This is just my way of showing my daughter and hopefully other children that we can all do our part. I have been involved in fundraising a lot. It is a calling if you will. It is invigorating and heartwarming. Please don't judge me for this, but help support my cause.

Anyone can help. Even if you live thousands of miles away. You can co-host a Walk-A-Thon at the same time in your area. If you would like to sponsor someone, you can do that to for as little as $5. I promise you that all your money will make it to St. Jude and that this Walk-A-Thon will NOT fund our trip down there if we decide to do that. I will find my own sponsors for that if we make that decision. I know the stereotyping people do, and I will promise you that I am in this for the purpose of teaching my daughter and doing my part. If you question this, please email me with your concerns and I will promptly get back with you.

So, will you do this? Will you help? Let me know what you want to do. If you want to walk or help with organizing. Anything counts.

I don't have information about where or times yet. I just started organizing this with the help of St. Jude. But I will guarantee that you will hear more about this in the next few weeks if you choose to hear about it. If you don't want emails or information, please reply to this email and I will take you off of the list. And the scariest thing of all is this will be in the paper and news. Just saying. This scares the tarnation out of me. If anyone would like to be my PR, we can work that out. :-)

Your support and understanding means alot to me. Thank you for taking the time to read this.

Always crazy but always with a purpose,
Krissy

Note: If you live far away and cannot be near to walk the walk, then you can consider being a sponser. Remember, it is $5 at the minimum. I will be speaking with a bank to have all the money directed to them. That way I am able to organize all money better. More information to come. And if you would like to do even more, then link this post to your blog. Let people know what I am doing. The more this gets out there the more sponsers I will have. Link it as often as you want. And I will also mention that if you would love to come walk with me, and make it a trip, I would be very excited. Just saying.. You know I want to meet each and everyone of you gals.

Wish me luck. I might need it. Remember, AWARENESS!

Oh My Lordy....

2008-09-10T13:53:00.002-05:00

I have some big shit coming up. I am getting in over my head but I love, love, love it. You will have to wait for the big moment though. It is like waiting for the big release.

For now we are going to talk about getting old. Yeah, I know. Who the hell wants to talk about getting older? It bites. I know.

Especially when your back goes out more then you do. Or you knees buckle but your belt won't. And you need to get the size belt labeled "equator." When corn becomes a ticking time bomb for your intestines. When you sit in a rocking chair and can't get it going.

This is old. I wonder how long before I start growing hair out of my ears. Maybe I already do have hair growing out of my ears but I cannot strain my neck enough to see it. Oh hell!

I can clearly remember when the dead sea was only sick. When Kangaroo shoes with zippers and pockets on them were the coolest shoes ever. When I didn't have to worry about crapping my pants when I have gas. Too much? My apologies.

But the truth is....I like being in my 30's. I can still party like a super star but I also can stay in and watch a movie and both of them would be okay. Back B.C. (before child) I wouldn't dream of wasting a Saturday night watching a movie. No matter how hot the man I was watching the movie with was. Hell to the No. I was more interested in beer and friends and flirting. That was me. That was my life. But now I have variety in my life and perfectly content with it.

So, the 30's work for me now. And now I am going to go pluck my ears.

Soap Box Special.

2008-09-09T20:54:00.002-05:00

Picture it.

Your child is sick. Your child is battling a disease that just the word itself instills a bone chilling fear. Everyone knows someone who has battled the disease or has succumbed to it. A sister, friend, mom, dad, brother, child, adult. Whomever it was. It was scary. It could be disheartening. Many parents visit their sleeping child buried in a cemetery instead of picking them up from school.

It does not discriminate. It does not choose. It is relentless. It is atrocious.

Are you scared? I don't think that my words are actually scaring you, it is the word....CANCER.

I know so many victims of this disease. I hate the word. Some victims are survivors and some lost the battle, but won the war. Children are suffering. Adults are suffering. Parents are suffering. Grandparents are suffering. As.I.Type.This.Post.Children.Are.Suffering.

St. Jude.

A word that gives hope instead of despair. That is determined to save babies, children, moms, dad's, etc. We all want to save them. Right? We all want a cure, Right?

Well, you cannot find a cure if you are not funded. I truly believe that we are close. I also believe that the government and insurance companies and hospitals are killing our chance of this. But that is another subject for another time and only a opinion.

For now, I want to discuss what we can do. What can we do to help a hospital that has a goal to fight this battle. I want to do something.

I have always wanted to do more. But how? I don't know. I have considered many things. But I have determined that the best way to help is to bring awareness to the subject. Cancer. Oh how I hate this word.

My grandma is an angel in heaven. She died young. She had cancer.

My friends beautiful daughter fought the disease. She did this with grace. She is a warrior. She survived. But not without a big, huge fight. Her parents are in fear still to this day. Praying that the beast isn't lurking in the dark, waiting to rear it's ugly head again. Living in fear. What a disheartening thought.

My aunt, my special aunt. The first person whom I told I was pregnant. She no longer resides on earth, but still lives in my heart. I miss her.

My neighbor. A mother of younger children. Battling cancer. She will survive. I pray she will survive.

You can help without digging into your pockets. How?

Call the local hospital or cancer center. Run in a Mile Race for cancer. Walk in a walk-a-thon. Be a respite friend to a parent of a sick child. Take over care while they go to supper with their other children or to even take a shower. They usually cannot leave their sick child. Your own children can help. We all have a job. There are so many ways. Help with fundraising. You can do it.

Awareness. Are you aware?

I'm off my soap box now. This is not a downer post. Don't even go there. Nobody likes to be told that cancer can attack anyone, your own family. But you must count your blessings and do a deed. It could be something so small and with as much effort as you choose to give. Anything and Everything matters.

I'm not feeling down, I'm feeling invigorated. I can help. I will help. I love people too much to not help and most of all I love kids way to much to sit around and hope someone else is helping.

The Moment I lost my brains.....

2008-09-07T10:32:00.005-05:00

NOTE: This post will contain rambling, bitching, cursing, and self pity. If you don't like it....don't "f'ing" read this post.

This morning I woke up to a crotchety back, a slimy snotty nose and a urge to kick some body's ass. This added on to a raging headache that has pounded in my brain for the last 2 days that nothing short of a hammer would help ease the pain. And not to mention that I have to go to the shitfuck place of Target to work with crabby ass senior citizens that bitch because I cannot return a item that is 3yrs old.

I decided to double my dose and make myself a pot of java to temporarily make me somewhat coherent after a sleepless night thanks to my butthole dogs that try to sneak their way onto the bed, coincidentally laying on my legs.

Let's just say this. I was in love with my coffee pot. I purchased it 3yrs ago for a pretty penny at the time. I would have married this certain appliance if it hadn't been that I already had a marital arrangement with my vibrator.

On to the point. Lately this appliance has been giving me some heartbreak. It leaks. It leaks all over the place. It is incontinent. If it were human, it would need depends. It is only 3 shitting years old. Nonetheless, coffee was the only thing saving somebody from getting a black eye. I pleaded with it before I pushed the button to turn it on. I begged it to not leak today because I would drop kick ass. It didn't listen.

This is what it looks like after I make a pot of sanity.

You can see the pieceofshithellhole coffee pot at the end of the picture. It is stuffed with paper towel to prevent leakage. I probably killed 400 trees by just sopping up this mess.

A side note: I had to wait for 5 minutes after seeing this mess to take a picture to prove to my husband that I don't do anything to the appliance to make it lash out at me like this. I had showered first and then came out to the kitchen to get my cup of peace. This is what I found!!!!

I was home alone this morning. My husband had a thingy-ma-jig to attend to at 5am and my daughter was at a sleep over. Oh, and the dogs are still sleeping on my bed.

The profanities that escaped my mouth were words that would make a sailor blush. I was torched. I was about to ignite into flames. I sat down with my head in my hands and breathed heavily. I was losing it.

I decided to write down a pro and cons list of the hysterectomy and subsequently the loss of my marbles. I needed to break out of the funk and put a smile on my face.

Then the commercial for abandoned or mistreated animals came on. The tears were rampant. I went from totally angry to bawling like an infant in a split second. I regrouped and tried to focus. Look at the bright side of things. See the light! Yada, Yada, yada. I knew I couldn't save all the poor animals from the abuse or feed starving children without winning a gazillion dollars so I decided to put all my energy into me. What makes me happy.

First and foremost I thought of these.

No longer do I have to insert a plastic tube of cotton up my Woo-Hoo! Satin applicator for quick comfortable application my ass. It doesn't work well when you are raw from your disgusting period anyway. Comfort fit?? What a wad!!! And lets not discuss the mothereffing diaper that you have to have between your legs as well. The pads and pantyliners are just as much torture as the plug.

I get to say goodbye forever to inserting a plastic tube into my vagina. I don't have to wear pads that have stickiness to adhere to your hair down under causing excruciating pain ever again.

Yipee!

And, And, And....I don't have agonizing period hell that crippled me into a ball on the floor or made me walk like I had a tube steak stuffed up my girly hole. Matter of fact, I gave all my women torture devices to my friends that still get visits from the bitch, Mother Nature.

I definately have a smile on my face now!

And suddenly I feel so much better.

Thank you for making it through the ramblings of a screwed up post hysterectomy bitch. And thank you for sticking with me while I piss through this trial in my life.

Hi Hoe, Hi Hoe, It's off to hell I go.....

2008-09-04T17:07:00.002-05:00

I'm still sick. Let's get that out there right now so maybe more sympathy heads my way.

But I realized that I may just be heading down a road that ends in molten lava. I've gotta stop laughing at other people's downfalls. It isn't appropriate. It isn't Christian like.

Today my friend almost hit a man on a bike. I laughed. I cracked a rib. I stopped breathing. It was funny.

My husband tripped on his own two feet. I spit out my diet soda.

My dog ran into the steps nose first. I was rolling.

My daughter hit her head on the door. I giggled like a schoolgirl.

My other dog slipped on the hardwood floors. I snorted.

And then I sneezed and my head blew up. And I realized that it could be a sign.

And when my daughter laughed at me she got grounded and when my husband snickered he got cut off for a month.

And as they gallivanted around the house doing whatever they wanted while I coughed up my lung and cried like a sissy I came to the conclusion that they don't care that I am ill. And that they carry on with their normal lives and I am left picking up the slack. Then I yelled at them for not helping out and for them to rub my feet and they suddenly wanted to clean the house and cook supper.

And I realized that even though I am sick and going to hell....I still rule the roost.

Dance Puppets...Dance! :-)

Gag!!!

2008-09-03T21:21:00.002-05:00

Just when things start to calm down here I get sick. Wouldn't you just figure?

I have a nasty chest cold that has migrated it's way to my head which makes me gag on my phlegm. And I don't like gagging and throwing up. So, needless to say, I have been laying on the couch a lot with a raging headache. It is more fun then a needle straight through the eyeball.

I don't spend a lot of time on the computer as the glare irritates my nasty headache.

Do you feel sorry for me yet? I didn't think so. Hey, a girl has to try. God knows I don't get sympathy here.

My daughter cannot stop saying "Mom....MOM...MOOOMMMM!"

My husband cannot stop saying "Honey, HONEY, HHHOOOONNNNYYY!"

And I cannot stop saying "For the love of God.....leave me the HELL alone!"

The hellions!

So, who knows when I will start feeling up to par again. I wouldn't suspect for my luck to suddenly change but here's to hoping!!!

God, I need a stiff drink. I like things stiff.

Nice to know my hellacious cold hasn't dampened my sick deranged sense of humor, eh????

Things that make me laugh....

2008-09-02T22:41:00.003-05:00

There are lots of funny things in my life. My daughter. My husband. My dogs. My family. My friends.

I don't live a sheltered life by any means and I make sure that my daughter isn't sheltered or spoiled either. I don't want her to think that she can have whatever her little heart desires. I don't want her to have "Only Child Syndrome!" This is a goal that me and my husband share. We often tell our daughter "No" and we do not give in to her every need. Yes. My daughter is more blessed then some children. No. She doesn't hurt for much. But trust me when I say that she is not a spoiled rotten brat. Just a brat! Kidding...only kidding. Somewhat!

Anyway, we do know that certain things in life are going to cost us a few appendages and organs. For instance, college. Unless she gets a kick ass grant, we will pay the pretty penny. Wedding. We are the brides parents. We will carry more of the monetary responsibility. We are aware of this. However, if my child ever acts like the ladies from the show "Bridezilla's," I will kick her matrimonial ass all over the states.

But the show "Bridezilla's" is a show that makes me laugh out loud. It is so wrong in so many ways and I am often saying "Bitch" during the show but nonetheless...it is wickedly entertaining. And when I watch it with my husband, he is extremely grateful for me after the show. My friend and I love to watch this together and then use our use of the word "Bitch" often..together.

But as much as I refuse to have my daughter become a "Bridezilla" I will outright die if she was ever a bride like this:

You cannot see it in the picture but she is wearing a camoflauge veil. And they had pigs in their wedding. And they went mudding for the reception. And they chased a pig lathered in lard.

This show is hilarious. My Big Redneck Wedding. Oh My God. I cannot believe this montrocity of a wedding. It is so raw. So odd. So Redneck.

"I wish I could lock your love in a locket, because you are hotter then a Hot Pocket!"

That was a famous wedding vow from a Redneck groom. And his wife lost her teeth before the wedding ceremony. And they were married under a arch of beer cans. And they were married in a Flea Market.

But this is very funny entertainment. I will admit. It makes me crack a rib from laughing. I cannot help but to wish I was there because it would be a party to remember. And they are usually happy. Unlike the Diva Bitch Brides from Bridezilla that usually have hundreds of thousands of dollars wrapped up on their big day. So, you gotta respect the Rednecks!

You gotta take a gander at these shows sometime. It makes you very giggly or makes your husband very grateful. Either way, you win!

And it doesn't take much to get a license to "Party Like a Redneck!"

I got mine! :-)

And why oh why is spellcheck not working again. I.Need.Spellcheck. Grr..

A thought to think about....

2008-08-29T22:19:00.002-05:00

Will Nature survive the wild beast?

Or

Will the wild beast survive nature?

Tomorrow my husband and I are going to partake in a "Birthday Bash" that my wonderful sister-in-law has so thoughtfully arranged. It is about a 3hr drive for us. We will be going with nothing but the bare essentials. A few clothes, sleeping bags, pillows, deodorant (because I wish for no one to smell my body odor....ewww!), toilet paper and some food.

It will be a test. A bonafide test to see if I; hot flashing, menopausal, part-time psycho, full time whacko; will be able to survive nature. To see if I can give up air condition for a mere 24hrs. To see how well I can pee in the woods. To see if I can take a bath in a dirty pond. To see if I can dig a hole to poop in (you dig a hole so you can cover it up after. This is important. You don't want someone else stepping in your shit.) To see if I can make edible food over a open flame. To see just how well nature likes me or how much I like it! To see if I can handle the wild animals and slimy snakes. To see if I can make the mile long hike planned. To see if I can survive bugs!

I have my work cut out for me. In the past, when I have used a bush for a toilet, I usually pee down my leg. I usually have a difficult time sleeping. I usually fret about snakes crawling into my sleeping bag. I have never pooped outside. My daughter has many of times, so I will be getting advice from her before we leave. I have burnt corn over my stove top before. I sweat like a hog in the air condition. I like bathing in clean water. I've never been considered a "Nature Girl" before. Never, Ever, Ever!!!! I didn't mention that I would be using a plastic spoon to dig my hole if nature called. If nature did call, I don't think I would have time to dig a hole with a flimsy piece of plastic!

Hmmmm.....

Actually, I kid you. I will be outdoors but if I get too hot, I can go inside my air conditioned cabin. And the toilet has running water. And there is a shower. And there is a swimming pool. And a Zip-Line. And a grill. And actually, my sister-in-law is making all the food. And I don't have to go on the mile long hike if I don't want too. And we will be drinking Margarita's. And there will be over 30 people there to kill a snake if I see one. I will wear bug spray too. And there will be a hay ride. And a campfire. And dirty practical jokes pranked on the men (Women Vs. Men). And we are actually going to a restaurant to eat supper.

And I gauran-fricking-tee that I will have a super time. And all my troubles and worries are going to be left at home. And I will relish in a stress-free adult night.

I must tell you though...the digging a hole to crap in is a very useful piece of information. I learned this a few years ago, when we did a Niobrara trip (Niobrara River is in Nebraska. You lay on tubes all day long while the current takes you down to your campground. The water is usually only knee high. It is beautiful. It is fun. But the campsites are far from any toilets. The trees are your potty room!), my friend walked into the woods by herself with her trusty plastic spoon. I wasn't sure what she was doing and my curiosity was sparked. When she came back I questioned the spoon. Everyone looked at me funny. I was the only person who didn't know the "rules" of pooping in the great outdoors. I laughed my ass off. I couldn't imagine walking away with a plastic spoon. Everyone would know what I was doing. I am shy like that. Thankfully, I was constipated so I didn't have to worry about it.

And so now you can go away with valuable information. And you can think of me next time you are digging your hole....wait....nevermind that.

Your welcome.