You are not invincible. (Ode to dumbasses everywhere)

My husband, God love him, fails to act his age. I realize this is probably not an isolated case. So enjoy while I sing his praises.

One fine morning, a fresh football season brought “the guys” over to prepare for the proper abusing of the PSLs. My hubby and his “bros” were all geared up (in appropriate team wear), toting coolers and groceries, talking loudly about guy crap. They were loading up the truck to make the haul down to where the chest beating, ball scratching, shit talkin’ takes place. It being one of the first games of the season had this lot in rare form.

I don’t know what happened conversation-wise to require the riding of my husband’s childhood BMX bike, but they were doing it. My kids are out laughing at them. My neighbors were too. My husband takes his turn at being the baddest ass and “I can’t watch”. So two grown men and two little boys are watching as dear husband ramps the curb, hops the sewer and bites it. “Awwww! Wow! Ouch”. Head first over the handlebars. I knew it was bad before I even turned around. I kinda wish I would have seen it. He is laying on the grass and then just pops up like “It’s ok! I’m ok!”(name that movie). He was obviously shaken. I am not sure by what, the fact that he is not 12 anymore or that he has just seriously hurt himself trying to be 12. Oh, and he hit his head, but that couldn’t have anything to do with it, right?

He staggers. He heads to the house. He stands in the bathroom trying to convince me he didn’t hit his head very hard and it’s just a hematoma on his shoulder. *in my best Schwarzenegger* “It’s not a toma”. Crickets?!?! Really? I thought that was hilarious. Fine, I’ll admit, ill placed. I digress…

So my adrenaline junkie goes to his football extravaganza, and proceeds to tail gate. Chest bump. Wait. That hurts.

Then I get the call.

“Huuuuneeee, could you pick me up? I think I’m hurt worse than I thought.” “Of course” *eye-roll* *huff* *grumble*. The kids and I gather up and head downtown (35 minute drive with no other cars on the road) to sit in baseball and football traffic and finally arrive at the corner of “major interstate” and “right in the middle of downtown”. He is standing there with this painful glare and when he slides in the car he instructs me to drive him directly to the ER. These words are not uttered by my husband lightly. Before you get all upset, his dudes were handed the tickets and told to keep him posted, they instructed him to do the same. All is not lost.

Off we go! Two major highways, one bridge closing, giant loop around detour, two antsy kids, one injured husband, an hour and 12 minutes drive time, one Xanex and 51 deep breaths later we are at the hospital closest to our home. We wait in the ER (ya’ll know what that’s like so I’ll spare ya) and they tell him his collar bone is detached and they won’t touch him. He needs an Orthopedic Surgeon!?! Yikes. 

Here, take a look:

BLAMO!

My poor hubbs had to throw all aspirations of swimsuit modeling out the window and come to grips with the fact that until he has surgery he will have a bump on his shoulder. Like Quasimodo. I know, low. But funny.

You will be pleased to know that almost two months of physical therapy and loads of time off work he is fully functioning. For those interested, the bump is barely noticeable. The only thing he can’t do is lay on his left to sleep which leaves me snuggle-less and I hate that. He has also completely forgotten any lesson there were to be had from this. I asked him to buy a skateboard for our dude’s 7th birthday and he comes home saying “man, skateboards have gotten way cheaper! I almost picked one up for myself.” REALLY?!?!? Did you learn nothing?! I would kill him, of course I could just wait and see if he does it for me.

I would like to state for the record that I have been very supportive, non-judgy, and only have half of a tongue left because I have been forced to bite the other half off. Everything happens for a reason. Accidents happen. Blah blah blah.

I am convinced this must be a chromosomal defect. The Y chromosome.  

HELP! I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!

Call Life Alert. I have fallen out of the blog-o-sphere. I am having a hard time finding my way back.

Holy crap, my life has been stupid crazy lately.

We moved. We found out we are not good at moving. I picked up a new career. Hubbs got laid off. Find out new career kinda blows. Hubbs got hurt (for-the-love-of-god-that-is-a-whole-'nother-post). Two new schools start. I can’t remember the last time I read a book for grown-ups. A boy turned seven. Hallo’frickin’ween. Hubbs goes back to work, but at night. And that almost, with very large gaps, brings us up to now.

I really wanted to be a good little blogger and continually bang out witty post after witty post. Unfortunately my new Big Girl Job has me chained to a computer six hours a day and I’ll be honest, I just don’t feel like it anymore.

Then I realize how much I have missed. I have not done any sewing. I have not had any snarky rants. I read up on my faves and realize that I suck. Who do you have to blow to get Pintrest to accept you? What is the big friggin’ deal about Pintrest anyway? Reminds me of Jr. High when we used to clip pictures out of magazines and make our dream house/wedding/family. Don’t lie, you did too, didn’t you? Why can I not do something simple like pick a paint color for the dining room, or wash socks? My last project was lame, my attempt at “mumming” (don’t ask) was weak, and my car has had one headlight for like a year. 

I need to have a good old fashioned “get your big girl panties on and get over it’ lecture handed to me. I’ll try. I will.

So in the spirit of things I vow to post immediately after this one with a story about the Read-Todd-Did man I married, shower, take a yoga class, and suck it up.

I promise.

Poetry

One of my KK Mommy friends posted this today and it touched me so I wanted to share. *sigh* If only they were small and sweet again.

Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth
empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
hang out the washing and butter the bread,
sew on a button and make up a bed.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
...She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.
Oh, I've grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).
The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew
and out in the yard there's a hullabaloo
but I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren't her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
for children grow up, as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.

by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton

 

Have a great weekend.

Thank you JS.

Our poor tree.

I wrote last year about this tree. Take a look HERE. Seems a little silly to put so much emotional importance on a tree but I do. I think this tree is a significant story teller that runs parallel with us.

Let me add a little back story and maybe you can see it. In my and husband’s relationship there have been a few bumps. Nothing catastrophic, but bumps big enough to jostle your brain when ya go over ‘em. Who hasn’t?! It seems whenever we have something major happen everything major happens. So, we built a new house and were moving crap over daily and in the middle of the mess a huge storm hits our town. Tornados nearby, rain coming sideways, and lightening that was scary close. Ya know, summer storm, Midwest style. I thought sure with everything happening we would have lost the tree. She was a bendin’. Nope. It stood. Strong and tall and I looked at my hubbs and thought “just like always we are gonna make it”. Then two days later a second but not nearly as ferocious storm blew through and took our tree with it.

Leveled to the ground. Again! This tree does this about every five years. So do we. I cried. A lot. Then I started over analyzing the symbolism. With all the stress of the five-million-and-two things that we loaded up on our plates, my lover and I had been fighting quite a bit. Is the tree trying to tell us that some storms you can weather but some are just to big to withstand?! Or was it saying here’s a fresh start for you? Just call me neurotic. Some people take advice from tea leaves. At least mine was living.

Well… running true with the tree speak we have moved on, started fresh. We have cleaned up our old mess (well…almost) and have begun to grow a new life from the ground up in a different place.

(insert sad faces)

Let’s just hope this new house’s tree isn’t a sign of anything. It was a straight-up pain in the ass then immediately it died. Puleeze! Really?!?

And of course, before i got a pic (stupid camera. STUPID battery.) the magic tree fairy (aka: project manager) came and replaced it. Maybe that is a sign! Ugh.

So now I have little to no worries a (surface survey) and I just pray the grass here is not the fortune teller. Premium Kentucky Bluegrass my foot! More like poopity-poop-poop. Poop. Although the grass does kinda feel like me right now… crabby and a little “broad”.

Wanna see some pictures?

I am totally not a photographer. At all. That being said… shall we?! Here’s what the last nine months have looked like:

October

Please try to focus on the reason for the season instead of my half-wit facial expressions. Yes. As a matter of fact my tongue is out and I have indeed not bothered to brush my hair. Huh.

 November

Incredible. In November we celebrate my nephew’s birthday.

December

 

 

January

 

“Playing” with our Christmas loot. Um… that is a volcano. You’re welcome.

February

Let the building begin!

This is the one I made for my baby’s 4th birthday.

March

 

April

   

May

We were waiting for the much anticipated port removal.

Almost done!

June

Hello Summer!

July

 

Check out my sexy mutha-*bleep* with his cold blooded jewelry.

And… this is what happens when you hand me one! Ack!

Do you have any idea how hard it is to come up with just one (ok, sometimes two) pictures to sum up an entire month? Why nine months, not six, or twelve? Dunno. Deal.

Been a long time…

It has been since Easter since I posted?!?! It has been since Easter since I posted.

We have had a whole truck load of crap happen, I probably have about 27 funny things to tell you, like 16 not so funny, and at least one that will make you cry tears of joy. None of those things will be posted right now though. I am simply too pooped. Plus that would mean organizing my stack of post-its. Too hard. Especially when I can’t find my stapler, my favorite bra, or about three dozen other things since the move. Never been too organized, now it bites me in the ass.

Piled high on top of the move is summer (aka: boys parked in my face), my '”fun job” that sucks a big one, a lay-off that turned into out of town work for my dear husband, and my car just up and gave me the finger. The friggin’ clutch went out. I want to scream. Instead I decided to pout. We had loads of wonderful family activities that needed attending this weekend and I was stuck. With my sweetie out of town the weekends get crammed full of shit we hate (him working on the old house, me at work) instead of the things we really want to be doing (spending time with friends and family, or hell just enjoying summer for five minutes).

Today I surfed the net for solutions to the car disaster until one of eyeballs actually fell out on to my keyboard. Don’t worry, it was the one that recently survived pink eye not my good one.*

*in a tiny little side note: whenever anyone says “pink eye” do you immediately think “poop on your eyeball”?! I do. I did. Till now. I did not have poop anywhere near my face. I am a compulsive hand-washer. Sort of. (remember the scene from Knocked Up when they all got pink eye from farting on each other's pillows?! I feel better)

My dear sweet sister showed up and informed me that we needed to get out of the house and do something fun with the boys for just once in their poor deprived lives. That was at like 1:00. So by 4:00 we started really thinking about what to do. The public pools around here (well not really around here anymore since “here” has moved) have special cheap-o rates after 4:00 so since it was now only 99° instead of 105° we suited up.

Pay attention… this is where it gets good… in string bikinis!!! BWAaahahaha.

No seriously.

We totally did.

We dug around in my swim suit pile and finally decided on the little ones. Why? ‘Cuz we are obviously of diminished brain capacity. Obviously.

I have two things to tell you about this ridiculous decision:

1. We are not the adorable 20-somethings that these suits were originally purchased for.
2. If you ever want to feel better about your physical appearance you should head over to the public pool.

Knowing these two things led us to the conclusion that we are too old to care what anyone really thinks. That and she has a tropical vaca coming up and she and a thawed out chicken have the same color skin. So my sis, her blissfully happy new b’dunk, our three pasty boys, and my scarred up nasty (think shark bite or mauled by tiger) belly jiggle all got in her car. I made her promise to make a whooper-whill whistle if one of my nipples popped out and then made her practice it with me for insurance. God forbid she mistake it for another bird call. She rolls eyes and comments on my mental handicap.

We arrive. Pay. Throw our crap on the first empty chair. Undress. Suck in… and head for the water. I don’t have the required stomach muscles it takes to hold the kind of blub I carry. Little sis meant what she said about not caring about what people think and is sitting down. You can’t suck in and sit. F*@#. Oh well.

In an hour and 20 minutes my insignificant stomach muscles are sore from trying their hardest. My thighs are rubbed red on the inside from the weird way I was walking trying to minimize the jiggle. We have been splashing and playing the entire time. The boys were having fun. The water feels great and so does the sun. Having a great time.

Until… she swims up to me and giggles “thought you might wanna know your suit is see through”. Really? Really?!?!

Not only did I not hear the whistle we rehearsed but she waited an hour to tell me that everyone could tell within a millimeter exactly how my nipples look?!?! Aaahhhh!!!

Top that shit off with a trip to Wal-Mart in goofy half wet swim covers with three over tired and hungry boys and I was almost in tears looking for a happy pill.

No. There are no pictures to go with this post.

SHEESH!!!

 

  

 

 

Ahhh… Easter.

I will start by saying that both my husband and I were raised Catholic. We celebrate Easter with family, dyed eggs, ham, and loads of chocolate. We had a very nice day filled with family and fun. Then this will promptly turn into a rant. Sorry.

What is it with all of the “stuff”?!

The Easter Bunny brought chocolates, Peeps, jelly beans and a bubble blowing whistle for each of my kiddos. We try to keep it simple and remind our children that holidays are much more than scoring tons of new toys. I have noticed quite the opposite trend going on in other households though. In my opinion our kids are pretty spoiled, especially when compared to how we were raised. I am simply astounded by the way that other parents over spend for holidays, whatever the holiday be. While the Easter Bunny did fill a big ol’ basket with enough candy to make an entire city diabetic in about 20 minutes, I just don’t get what I am hearing about what this crazy bunny left for others. Does it mean you love Jesus more if your kids get 9 DS games, 6 jars of Play-doh, 14 Barbies, and a Karaoke machine?! I think not.

It seems to be a bit excessive. What exactly does this say to our young ones?

I have noticed the same trend around Christmas time. Does St. Nickolas really need to bring an entire load or just the traditional goodies that fit in the shoe? I actually heard one mom say that she was buying a Loving Family house for her daughter for St. Nick’s Day! Really?! What the hell is little Veruca getting for Christmas later the same month? Gold plated bike? Trip to Fiji? What has happened to us as a society?!

I realize that with the rise in divorce some parents play the “I love you more” game. I also realize that these little brats will eventually be adults. If the trend keeps up will Santa be able to fit a Ferrari in little Johnny’s stocking and will the real reason for the season just be dead? 

I think family traditions are being lost to the hype. We always got fruit and nuts along with candy in our Christmas stockings. We would get the one thing our heart’s desire under the tree from Santa. Ya know, the big one. Not $1800 worth of every toy we asked for all year long. I am trying my hardest to keep family traditions alive. My boys each got the one thing they wanted most, begged Santa for, and pleaded for in their letters. It was accompanied by a couple smaller toys and your run of the mill stocking stuffers. Neither of my kids died. No arms flew in the air with exclamations of “is that all?!” and they were sure that Santa really did listen and they really were good boys all year. Then they go off to school and hear of the ridiculous excess that happens in other houses. “Mom, my friend Dan said that he got the entire LEGO City from Santa!” Really?! I want to slap Dan’s mom. Why can’t Christmas be about the birth of our Lord instead of the $700 in tiny building blocks that Dan’s parents thought were just what was necessary to make the day special? One kid got a pony and a horse!!! I thought we were in an economic slump right now. Lets teach our kids about that. They will be the ones running this country some day!

So back to Easter. I was talking with an acquaintance the other day and after she got done rattling the items she compiled for her kids for Easter, ranging from board games to sports equipment, she added “I still need one more thing for the baby so they have they same number of things”. Just who is keeping score? And what is up with taking pics of your kids’ loot to post on Facebook?! Is this really even about the kids, or the holiday for that matter? It’s not like these were pics of the kiddo’s surprised faces and the joy of rifling through their haul. Just pictures of stuff. Tacky.

My kids got baskets from us and from Grandma. Each loaded to the hilt with a mother’s nightmare, and a dentist’s dream. Not once did my children ask why they didn’t get the 4 Bakugan toys they need to complete their collection, or why the Easter Bunny didn’t drop off a swimming pool. They hunted eggs and were not disappointed in the least when the plastic ones held pennies and candy instead of $5 bills.

Our Santa is kind and generous without extending our credit into financial ruin. Our Tooth Fairy still brings coin (lots of it but still coin). Our Bunny fills a basket, not the living room. Our kids know the reason for the things we celebrate, beyond the “stuff”. They experience the magic first hand. They believe in fairy tales and fictitious characters that reward them for being good people. The thought never crosses their mind to be greedy.

Maybe if this were more about the traditions associated with Easter and less of a contest our kids will benefit from the experience. Brush up HERE.

Think about the “stuff”. Ask yourself what you are teaching. Lead by example.

I truly hope everyone had a lovely Easter/ Passover/ Summer Solstice.

Let’s get Spring underway!

Much Love.

A charitable post

I absolutely adore charity work. I don’t mind taking one for the team when someone really needs it. I have donated both hours and dollars to many an organization. We, unfortunately, have also been on the receiving end of a couple such organizations too. If you aren’t sure why read HERE, RIGHT HERE, and OVER HERE for some small glimpses of may little dude’s journey, since I don’t have the balls to write it all down just yet.

So… for obvious reasons I am quite partial to charities pertaining to children. Or cancer. Or hell, children with cancer. Which brings me to my weekend to come. My sis has a wonderful friend who is celebrating her 10th year of being cancer free. She had breast cancer. She is in her late 20’s. Yep. You heard that right, not only is high school bad enough but now you have to survive the year bald and fighting for your life. This chick is amazing and her charity does some good work. This weekend is their second annual Pinkapalooza trivia benefit and the money collected will head off to help out with breast cancer research. Check out her website HERE. The event is crazy fun and put together by her and her hubby and about a bazillion other volunteers. I am one of these fortunate folk.

My sis is a photographer. She is friends and a co-worker of the spearhead of the event so naturally is asked to come document the evening. Then, Lord only knows why, she asks me to help her with the evening. The first year I was handed a camera and told to do my best, all the rest will hit the cutting room floor. Thank goodness for digital. I would have wasted more than my mortgage in film had this been done like “in the old days”.

Long story even longer… last year was such a hit that this year has already exploded, selling out in no time and it promises to be unforgettable. Which is where my sis is once again involved. Except this time she has called in some reinforcements. So, three of us will be wielding cameras, two professionals and this yokel. Sheesh.

Back to the original point of this post. Ya still with me?! Great.

When I say that I will be volunteering at a charity event and it takes preference over all other things that could be going on that night I have been getting the reply “oh, charity” like “why the heck waste time on that when you could be (fill in blank)”. Just so happens that this IS very important and unless you are, or have a loved one very close to you that has been, on the receiving end of such an event, you will never understand. This is how I make my mark. Behind the scenes. The thing to do, it seems, is to do a charity run. Well this momma don’t run. Weeeell unless I’m being chased. By a dog. Or the cops. So this will just have to do. Besides being way fun, it is kind of like a payback (forward? ugh. this could go on foreveaaa). After all this amazing lady showed up to “walk” (mosey) on our team that honors my son and raises money for one of our favorite charities.

I think that if you are the type to roll your eyes when someone says “charity”, or are too busy/lazy to help out when others are in need then you need to remember that everyone has somebody they are trying to save. Mine? I made.

I challenge all of you to do something good for someone else this weekend. I don’t care what it is. Just good.

Much Love!

Thanks Mom.

I got this in my email tonight, from my Mom. She always seems to have the right words to say and even if they aren’t exactly her words the quote is always more than appropriate.

I am a mother of two little boys. I appreciate stuff like this:

TODAY
Today he is Batman
His true identity concealed 
Via his jet-black cape still damp from the dryer
 
Today he duels evil
Racing against time
In his convertible top, two-door plastic 
Playschool car
 
Today he breaks cryptic codes 
Hacking into his Etch A Sketch and
Disabling reactor buttons on his
Mom's cell phone
 
Today he saves Gotham City
One cruel-intentioned
Peace-threatening plush toy at a time
 
Tonight he departs to the Bat Cave
After a long day of portraying Batman
He closes his eyes and ponders what is 
To come tomorrow.
 
Tomorrow he is Captain Hook
And Barbie is walking the plank.
 
--Jessica McKeon
 
Embrace the little treasures, they are fleeting.
Love to all,
MOM

We roll Imperial style ‘round here. Play is serious business in these parts.

These are old but I couldn’t resist. 

I love you too Mom! XOXO

I live for the little things.

Lately I have been a little off, mood-wise. I have been grumpy or down, depressed or angry. It has been an emotionally tough week. Nothing seems to be going right and when things start looking up it seems some little thing always throws things off again. I am usually a pretty upbeat person, or try to be (if you ask my hubby he will swear I am a die hard pessimist). I try and be a good person and act kindly towards others. It seems lately it is more my law than Murphy’s and my Karma is just a tad shy. I feel like yelling “smite me oh Mighty Smiter!”, name that movie.

So today, pooped out and still in jammies at 11:30, I am trying to turn this frown upside down. So I have to stop and say to myself “self, what is the big friggin’ deal with your crap ass attitude?! Snap out of it!”. I need an adjustment. So I will pull my big girl panties on and reflect on what I love instead of all the yuck. I think we should start with the little things. Things that you don’t really notice day to day but rather when they are gone. These are a few of my faves:

• The way my little guy mumbles “I love everybody in this family” while snuggling.
• When my older son, who is too cool for school much less holding Mommy’s hand, laces his fingers in mine.
• The fact that my dear husband still finds me attractive.
• Laughing with the man I married.
• Entenmann’s Rich Frosted Doughnuts
• The rare occasion when my sissy says “bye” before she hangs up.
• Hugs from my Mom and Dad.
• Smiles from strangers.
• Hearing my little sis’s voice.
• Napping in a pile with my boys.
• Spending time with my Grandparents.  
• Dr. Pepper (which I gave up for Lent).
• How my dog always knows when my feet are cold and promptly lays across them.
• Being the first to slide into clean sheets.
• The smell of raw silk.
• One hour of yoga.
• A too-hot-for-your-skin bath and a book (doesn’t matter which one).

Today I challenge you to look at the little things that make your day brighter.

Care to share? I’d love to hear it.

What cha readin’?

It is a question I often ask. It is important to me. It kinda gives me a gauge of the conversation that will naturally follow. I don’t care if you answer Boynton or Dostoevsky. Just as long as you’re reading something. I believe reading is important. My hubbs does not read much, he prefers visual stimulation (i.e.: video games) but he will read periodicals. That is good enough, it is still reading.

I have read to my children since before they were born. Before my life became kid laden and ultra busy I could pull down about 1000 pages a week. I know, right? N-E-R-D! Nowadays its more like I am lucky to grab 300. To me the gift of literacy is one of the most powerful talents a person can posses. Just think, you would be missing out on my ramblings without it!

I have two babies. One who is too smart for his own good and a bit on the ADD side of things. He must constantly be busy. He eats information like I eat potato chips (hey! they’re like kryptonite!). Also much like me, if he is being fed he is at peace. My little one has a blissfully average intellect with a bit of a mechanical streak. He is totally interested in putting things together (or much my bane, taking them apart) and has no interest in ever singing his ABC’s, not that he can’t, he just doesn’t want to. He is 4 and wonderful in as many ways as his big brother just in the opposite direction. It always amazes me that polar opposites can be made of the same ingredients.   

My big boy, who is in Kindergarten, has just discovered the joy of reading. How he finds it is a mess since he finds it to be extremely frustrating. He wants to just know things instead of taking time to learn them. His greatest challenge is that he can’t read like I do, but instead more like a kid. It irritates him to have to start from scratch. He told me once that when he understands every word his life will be so much easier. Pretty profound, if you think about a 6 year old making this statement.

This is an oldie but too sweet not to share.

They are 7mos. and almost 3 here.

A couple of months ago I attempted a chapter book. I introduced Judy Blume’s Freckle Juice. It was a short book with a cute story that they both enjoyed. Since I am reading to two, each with a different level of patience, I must choose wisely. I couldn’t dream of picking up Harry Potter or Artemis Foul (yet) because I would never be able to hold my audience with such a demand on their imagination. Though they can watch Mr. Potter with no trouble, actually they can last through just about any “big kid” movie (Percy Jackson and Last Airbender are our latest faves), I have to be careful to read something that they both can sit through.

I am a regular at no less than three of our local library branches and while wandering through the other day I decided I needed another adventure to read to the boys. I wanted one that was far fetched and fast paced. I landed on The Spiderwick Cronicles by Tony Di Terlizzi and Holly Black.

I started the series two nights ago and we are already deep into the second of five books. I even worked last night and surprisingly my hubby read two chapters without my asking. The boys (all three of them) are hooked! My beloved came in to listen the first night and he came back again tonight even though there was a show on in the other room that he didn’t want to miss.

These books are wonderful! The story is very entertaining, clever enough to keep their attention, and the bonus for us all is there are amazing sketches every other page or so. No one is happier about this than the baby. He has to examine every inch of the illustration before I am allowed to continue.

This excites me in a big way. I am moved to tears. I can’t wait to grab the other three and find out where the Grace children end up. I can’t think of a better family activity than some good ol’ storytelling.

 

So… drop me a line. Let me know what you are reading! 

-The Happiest Bookworm in the House

Movin’ right along, ditty dum-ditty dum…

Does anyone remember that song? Muppets? Now it is lodged in my brain. Grrr…

I am sure my friends on Facebook are getting pretty sick of me by now but it has only just begun! Actually, just by the one-liner updates it is hard to decipher whether we are building a house or a lame porno! First I had a hole, now we have wood, and so on. tee hee It really is pretty easy to entertain me lately, think 5th grade.

 

Check out my wood. Yeah, it looks small here but in person it makes a big impression. tee hee

In other news… my backsplash is D-O-N-E!!! My loving and ever encouraging *ahem* husband really loved it too. No joke. Probably because it turned out exactly just as I had planned. It is the same lovely color as the kitchen sink and all the painstaking labor made it appear that I changed the color of the grout as well. Is that even possible? Sounds like a pain in the arse. I would have just started from scratch but I didn’t have to. It worked out just fine the way I did it. Now look at some pics. Don’t judge. I am no photographer and we actually live here.

You remember where I left off, right? This is washed, sanded, and primer/painted with two coats.

 

 

Here I am mid-way, washing over it to help relieve some of the “bright white” issue.

Yes. I know. All of you who are actually good with a camera, who happen upon this page. I know things always look better when you don’t use your flash but there was hardly enough light in that spot and I do not have all the time in the world to navigate my Photoshop program that my super cool sister (who is an actual photographer) gave me to use. Get over it. 

Here is a little close up of the wall behind the stove. Remember? Check out the before HERE. See? Much better.

Ta da! Hey… don’t snicker at the ghetto stove! I happen to love it.

 

 

…Footloose and fancy free…

It’s been awhile…

Have I really gone months without an update?! Sheesh!

We have been super busy around here, that is my only excuse. Lame, I know. Between trips to the ER and big life decisions it has been a little crazy around here.

I know I have gone on before (way back) about my fun job and how it ended. I have not worked outside the house since April 2010, which is kind of silly to complain about since I am a stay-at-home mom. For my fun job I worked in a restaurant a couple nights a week for some social time and a little mad cash. I served tables, bartended, sometimes managed the place in a pinch. I worked for a wonderful family who I love and became good friends with. I miss them dearly.

I finally got antsy enough to look for work and have started a new fun job, which isn’t really all that fun yet. The money is great and the people (well most of them) are really nice, I just really hate being the new girl. This will change and it is only a couple nights a week anyway. I have already noticed the change that a little out-of-the-house responsibility can bring about. The kiddos actually miss me, the hubbs sees how much weight I carry around here, and I am happy. Hope it lasts.

We have also decided to move into a new home. I know, right?!

We looked high and low. We fought about it. We made up over it. Then we decided to build. We found a great little neighborhood which is just a little out of the way and set the gears turning. I have been annoying all on this jobsite with my daily picture taking. They either think I am psycho or have seen this a hundred times. I haven’t asked, I’m still too chicken. So…I go by my lot, a lot, and was pleased when I had more than a lot, I had a lot and a hole! But it gets better because now…

We have a foundation!!!

“Hi guys. Me again.”

This also means that we had a fire lit under our butts about the fixing up our current little shanty needs. In the end we will either need to sell it or rent it out so basically someone new will be living here. Fueled by a wild hair the little fire under my rear sparked and I found myself wandering the isles of Home Depot. Duh-da-dummmm.

I, alone, and all by myself had then decided to re-do the backsplash in our kitchen. If I were a better blogger I would have all kinds of advice and a step by step pictorial of my process and progress with full detail of every step taken. Sorry, you will have to get over it. Instead you get me. Flying by the seat of my pants. As usual.

I have shades of white in my kitchen mixed with wood. I decided to paint the circa 1972 tile that is my backsplash. I picked white. After a lengthy lesson from the hottie working the paint station I now know the difference between white, white, and white. I bought a paint and primer in one, in white. I really like Behr paint and the Premium Plus Ultra interior paint and primer in one in a semi-gloss enamel is what I am using. In white, no joke this time, he had to mix the paint to make it White (#1852).

  

This is a “before” to show just how amazingly awful this tile was. I guess you just get used to something and don’t realize how bad it was until you change it. Ignore the grime… I am mid-project. Besides that is the wall behind the stove.

I cleaned the wall, roughed it up a little with some sand paper and after one coat with a brush and two with a roller I get this:

No judging the filthy sink, you.

To this my dear sweet husband replied “that’s too freakin’ bright”. Yes, dear, I know. I am only getting started. I need a blank slate. I fully plan to diminish the glare with a little Antique White (#1823). I will make this super bright and shiny backsplash match the rest of the many shades of white in this kitchen where I live. It has to gel better with my almond sink at least. I know this. I’m working on it.

I will have an update on how it turns out in a day or two… hopefully.

I am off to go stalk my new house.

Have a great weekend!

Mothers of boys…

I know I have mentioned my dear Granny before. She has a great sense of humor and always shares.

I asked God for a whole house of boys. I have two. Full enough, we can stop!

My Granny got me this craftacky plaque a few years ago as a birthday gift. It hangs in my kitchen.

Tacky? Yes. True? Absolutely.

While the same can be said for having children of either sex, girls just don’t get the same play on words as boys here. Anyone who has tried to harness the madness that ensues from the Y chromosome will see the humor.

Granny never gets tired of the silliness though. This is a gift that hangs on my fridge:

Cute, huh? (sheesh)

The reason for this lame post was that I ran across a cool quote, about boys (thank you step-sister-in-law) on Facebook *eyeroll* of all things, and had to play with it:

 

Download HERE

I hope you will have fun with this one. I think I will head over to my girlfriend’s and abuse her Cricut machine to make this beauty into a vinyl. I will display it proudly over the toilet bowl that is only a mere suggestion of where to pee.

 

Lord have mercy!

 

Oh, and Happy Hump Day.

Ugh.

Free stuff totally beats all other stuff! Free stuff also means that I will be up till the wee hours trying to redesign my blog template.

A shout out must go to the wonderfulness that happens so that I may choose a new look.

Megan, you are the best! Check her out HERE. She is the amazing talent behind Shabby Blogs.

Thanks girlie, you rock!

Free printables:

Valentine’s Day is not too far away. I am not really into decorating for every little holiday but I do like to make cards.

Here are some fun, free, downloadable, printables for you to play with:

Download HERE 

      

Download HERE

 

Download HERE

 

These are simple and fun. I have them laid out in an 8x10. I plan to use the two black and white ones on cards and the brown one I might put in a frame.

Enjoy. If you have any questions or would like to share ideas leave a comment.  

Saturday 6:

 

Sheee’s Baaacckkk!!! Since one of my favorite blogs to read is back up doing it’s thang, I will play along today.

 

 

• How do you feel about the death penalty? Hells Yeah! I kind of wish the penalty for unspeakable acts was taken more seriously across the board. You really think a molester/rapist can serve time, be “rehabilitated”, and thrown back out into society?! You are stupid if you think this works.  
• Did you make a New Year's resolution? If so--what!? Yes. Because I am a masochist, I make one every year. Usually it is broken by Jan. 3rd… This years? I broke it so fast I don’t even remember what it was, and I feel bad about that.
• Why do women take men on Maury for paternity tests when they know DAMN well that Maury is going to say..."You are NOT the father!"?? Sheesh! Because some idiot out there still watches it. If this is even real, those women make me sick. How do you not remember who was inside you?!?! Whore. I have an idea: spend more time at home with your little bastard instead of being the neighborhood cum bucket. After all, you are all he has!
• Teen Mom on MTV...does it glorify teen pregnancy? Do you watch it? Don't lie--you do, don't you? Why is this even a show?! I haven’t watched MTV since it actually played music videos. It totally does glorify. I don’t care what the show even has for content but when I am checking out at the grocery store and in giant letters the “TEEN MOM” is on the cover of People, it kinda makes it cooler than it should be.
• Pajama jeans--rockin or ridic? Hmmm… I won’t lie, I watched the commercial.
• Travel back in time--tell us about the teenage you! I have been trying to stuff that little biotch away for years! I was a lot different to me than a lot of people saw me. Grunge was pretty hot so most days I could be found in baggy jeans and a flannel. I kept my eye on my feet or my face in a book most times. Never really fit into a group. Decent grades but I was lazy. Most of my day I was just wishing to be back in the band room. Defiant, careless, moody, poor self esteem, stupid, you know- typical teenage girl. (right?)

 

Now c’mon bloggies, head over to the link and play along!

I have a less than desirable day ahead of me. Maybe Sunday will make up for it.

Have a great weekend! *muah*

In honor of:

I would like to say first off: thank you God I did not get a hysterectomy this week like miss thang and her boobies! Now for my list…

• Fawk you stupid people who can’t see two inches from your face (figuratively).
• Fawk you to the crazy house market that makes my decisions sooo hard.
• Fawk you to the jerks that think it is a good idea that my dear hubbs work nights this week (Oh how I miss your sweet ass baby!).
• Fawk you to the 4 or 5 (ok, 17) cigarettes that have stopped my 7 month no smoking streak. And the stress you rode in on!
• Fawk you to this crazy epiphany that astrologists had that make a tattoo I got with my sister for her birthday null and void. I will always be born under the sign Gemini. So there.   
• Fawk you Mirena that decided that after a year I needed to experience the full wrath of my menstrual cycle!
• And fawk you very much for this shitty hand. Lately.  

Grrrrrr…..

 

Ahhh… thanks.

Snow day!!!

I promise not to whine.

I do, however, fully understand why my own mother (who has never complained about being a mom) always had a small sigh of resignation at the thought of all of us home all day, cooped up and crazy.

I love the snow. I love the winter. I also love Bailey’s and coffee but there is a time and a place for everything. My point is that I need a little break before we get another break. With the kids on cycles at school they got a really long break for Christmas. I only get two hours to myself twice a week as it is and the past month I haven’t. This is doubly compounded by the fact that my hubbs is now pulling the evening shifts. This is short lived I hope.

I am not ungrateful, I do love spending more time with my dear husband. I love my kids. I actually miss them when they are gone but i think I really need the time to miss them once in a while. That being said, let us entertain the troops!

We (well anything with a penis) laid around all morning (I did 4 loads of laundry) and then it was time to play.

I am a really crappy blogger because instead of endanger the life of my camera, I chose to play with my kids. Now picture Miss Piggy on a dinner plate going 40mph straight down a hill. There. That is the best picture I can give you. After treading on every inch of untouched snow in our yard we chose hot chocolate (I know it’s too early but I still vote Bailey’s) over frostbite and decided to call it a day.

A mother’s work is never done. I even cleaned off my car as a part of “playtime”. Now while the rug rats complain that their snack is not filling their bellies like a four course meal (dinner is in the oven!) and loaf around rotting their brains with kid TV, I will be taking care of the aftermath of play. 

I will name thee Load 5!

In reality I long to be here:

My favorite flannel sheets, on my fresh made bed, with my Bailey’s and a chick flick. Mmmm…

Pass the pot man…

Neti that is. My husband called me a hippie when I whipped it out, frankly I’m just desperate.

I have had this freakin’ cold for what feels like 8 months. In actuality I should have probably sought the help of a medical professional many weeks ago when the first stabbing pain hit my ear. Then the holidays happened, and no one else got sick, so I just kept putting it off. Now I am absolutely miserable and have random weird symptoms of death. I have tried everything to unlock my sinuses so that I may have even partial use of my nose with no success. I have been waking up with terrible stomach pains and have deduced that it is gas caused by the gasping and swallowing of air in my sleep. I know, TMI. My poor husband.

So in my desperation I have chosen to do something that I would normally only do on a dare… drunk. I decided to pour water  directly into one nostril and let it run (using the “smooth gravity flow”) out the other washing my sinus cavities. Nasal irrigation. Shit.

I usually love things that run along the lines of holistic medicine, let Mother Nature take care of us right?! This is one that I have strictly avoided. I set this bitch up at the kitchen sink much to the amusement of my dear husband and prepared to Deepak my face. It was weird, but it started to work! In your face sinus infection!

Well that only lasted like 5 minutes. It seems that an isotonic, pH balanced, Sodium Chloride and Sodium Bicarbonate/ warm water solution is no match for the snot that resides in my sinuses. I am back on complete lock down. Double shit.

So I will take up Afrin like a junkie and I will make an appointment so see someone who “practices” Western medicine first thing tomorrow. I promise. Unless I get busy. Or feel like crap and stay in my PJ’s all day. This damn thing cost what my co-pay is maybe I’ll give it another shot. Wish me luck! *snort*