blissful babble

What the Puck did you just say?

2011-05-23T20:16:00.000-07:00

My sweet daughter Maggie just told me I was, "Full of crap!"

No she did not learn this from me! What kind of parent do you think I am!

Wow judgemental much?

She learned the saying "full of crap" from one of her 3 big brothers I'm sure, who may or may not have over heard me telling their father that.

Which certainly can't be entirely my fault because...

1) Their father is often full of crap!

2) Who could possibly keep track of four kids at all times?

HELLO I'm not Nanny McPhee!

Yes, I guess you could argue that as a parent I should watch my mouth at all times and that would be far easier. But whats the fun in that?

I waited all these years to become an adult and do adult stuff like cuss only to have kids and have to watch my mouth again!

Forget that, after all the soap I ate as a kid I earned the right to cuss Damnit!

Come now I'm not that bad, I have toned it down a lot.

When Maggie was 2 I thought she was really into toy ships because she talked about them a lot.

She'd drop her tipsy cup ..."Ship."
She'd break her color crayon..."Oh Ship!"
She'd stub her toe... "Ship! Ship! Ship!"

Well you might misunderstand her meaning and take if for something else so I don't say "Ship" anymore or anything that could be misunderstood as "ship"....see good mommy.

And I sure in the hell don't ever say "Tuck" or "Fruck" or "duck" cuz that would be just nucking futs!

But we do have a dog named "Buck" So if you should over hear my daughter yelling something that rhymes with "puck"..she's just calling the dog....
and not repeating what she overheard her mommy say when her mommy saw the cost of gas last week.
Maggie can still be a little hard to understand sometimes. So your understanding and not your judgement would be greatly appreciated.

I do try really hard to raise good kids, so when my now darling little 3 year old tells me I'm "full of Crap" it makes me sad.

Not because she said the word "crap"...
But because she's right about me being full of it!

It's always darkest before the dawn

2011-05-02T09:42:00.000-07:00

Things are not always what they seem.

I awoke at 3am this morning to someone or something

BANGING on our house.

BAM BAM BAM BAM

I had watched "Black Swan" before bed by myself...so my mind was in a bad way.

BAM BAM BAM BAM

My head is spinning in the darkness

I jump out of bed...heart thumping

I'm so confused mind raising, do I pull pants on or go down stairs in my underwear? do I put on a bra or just flop around?

BAM BAM ...

I hear the front door open...there is no time for pants...

I flop down the dark hall

look down the stairs

and there stands two large dark figures

"what's going on...who is that!!"

one of the men starts up the stairs after me

I have no pants on I'm going to die in ugly underwear...I'm freaking out!!

the other yells something I can't hear over the blood rushing in my ears

I step back...trying to get a grip on whats about to happen...Oh God...Oh God!

Do I run and call the cops? Do I scream? God I wish I had a bra on!!

I stand FROZEN.

A 5'8" 180lb man is running up at me and I understand...
I'm going to have to fight! Oh my God Oh my God!

I ball up my hands ready to push him back down the stairs to protect my sleeping children.

The man looks up and me and grins...through the darkness I can now see, its not a man but my 13 year old son.

I'll kill him later...My sweet son.

I swallow my heart and look down the stairs

the second figure is my husband and he's pissed yelling at the dog

I pull my underwear out of my crack and turn back to bed.

Seems our 3 year old locked the storm door on him.

When our mind is in a bad place it's hard to see what's really standing in the shadows.

We can...

1)Freak out

2)Freeze up

3)or Fight

Or maybe all three over time.

When we endure hardship we can get stuck in the Darkness. The Darkness can suck us dry, leaving us hurting and confused.
Educating ourselves and getting support is the first step in seeing through the darkness into the light.
Then we must fight, to save our ourselves our children our loved ones.
God allows us to walk through fire to be shaken to our core. Why?
I believe it's because something needs to be shaken, shifted, burned off.
When our mind is in a bad place we can't see for the darkness.
Has God been shifting you, what bonds need burnt off?

Now I lay me down to sleep I pray the bugs my brain not eat.

2011-02-18T19:54:00.000-08:00

Saying Prayers is part of the nightly routine at our house, though some nights I ~~conveniently~~ forget…like when Gray’s is on.

BUT Inevitably I hear, “Mawwwwwwwmah don’t forget prayers!,” called down from somewhere far far away.
Heavy with guilt pains I drag my sorry butt up the stairs (at the next commercial break) with the intention of doing an abridged version and make it back before you can say McDummy. Then again you and I both know that wont happen, by the time I get back McSteamy and Little Gray will have gotten back together and broke up again….Dang it!

I stand at the bunk bed with one kid on the top and 3 kids and a dog crammed on the bottom, close my eyes, take a deep breath, and start.

Me: Dear Lord Jesus, Thank you for this day and all our blessings, thank you for our health… Avery stop touching Sam’s nose! Sam get off your sister! Jesus please watch over us as we sleep…

Avery: (12) *fart nosies*

Sam:(5) and bless Wawa and Papa…and make Avery's farts stop stinking!

Maggie: (2) and may Wawa and Papa not get eat up by coyotes.

Me: What! Why would Maggie think her Grandparents are going to get eaten by coyotes…JONAH?

Jonah: (8) I didn’t tell her that…Sam did!

Sam: No I didn’t you did Jonah!

Avery: *fart nosies*

Sam: STOP IT AVERY!

Jonah: Noooo I said that because Wawa and Papa’s cat got eaten by the coyotes that maybe their new puppy would get eaten by coyotes too…then SAM said maybe Wawa and Papa would get eaten by coyotes!

Me: Lord help me, and grant me patents.

Avery: *fart nosies*

Sam: Mama Pray I have a good day at school tomorrow and that I don’t hit Skyler….ummmm… and if I do hit Skyler that I not get another referral.

Me: and Wisdom Lord …Wisdom and strength.

Jonah: oh and mom Pray that bugs don’t crawl up my body and into my ear at night when I’m sleeping and lay eggs in my brain.

Me: AMEN

Maggie: Em en em

Sam: Its ahhhmen Maggie not M & M

Avery: *fart nosies*

Maggie: I want M&Ms!

I'm sure Gray's was lame anyway *sigh*

How much worse!!??

2011-02-01T15:31:00.000-08:00

I stomp up the stairs and slam my bedroom door in a huff; I’ve had it and needed to find some peace before my kids find themselves locked in the crawl space under the house.
Breathe Michelle…breathe. I tell myself I’m over reacting, knowing this would get better.
It gets worse before it gets better they tell you…Its no ones fault they tell you…Just take care of yourself they say. But all I can think is… How the Hell do you take care of yourself when there are so many other people to take care of! And How much WORSE can it get!!??
Ok maybe I’m being dramatic…maybe throwing myself on the bed and turning the TV way up is not productive and a bit childish…Pity party for one!

I can’t go in to detail about what I’m dealing with, or not dealing with for that matter, lets just say it ran over me like a crazy train over a month ago. I’m on this crazy train and I can’t get off and at this point I have little of no control over this mess. And you know us woman don't do well when we lose all control. I know I'm talking in code here and I'm sorry but trust me you don't want to know...sheesh I don't want to know.

So I sit on my unmade bed and think of running away, we all do that right, think of packing up and taking off, we’ve seen it done in the movies and I even know someone that did just that. But in the end it seems they live a life filled with guilt and regret in doing so. Huh?…that doesn’t sound all that bad…little guilt and regret is looking pretty dang good about now. I’d take the kids of course even though they are why I find myself bouncing my skull off my head board right now.

Don’t get my wrong…I’m not going anywhere…but its fun to dream right?
Anyway I hate packing.
For now I’ll do what I can to find comfort….eat pray sulk.

Apparently I’m a boob ogler...and I need help.

2010-12-29T15:30:00.000-08:00

When my cousin Rainy asked me if she was “showing too much cleavage,” during a conversation we were having on Christmas Eve, I had no idea what she was talking about.

“You keep looking at my Boobs,” She said.

“No I’m not, are you crazy woman, why would I be looking at your boobs?” I said shaking my head and giving her the ‘you’re a moron’ Look.

“Yes you are, see you’re doing it now! Is this shirt too low cut? Should I put on a cami? Is it tacky?” She asked honestly concerned about the vast ravine plunging down between her fleshy white (all but snow covered) mounds bursting out of her V-neck.

“Well Yeah, I’m looking now! You keep talking about them, how am I suppose to NOT look at your boobs when you keep pointing THEM out. Oh and by the way I was looking at you’re butterfly necklace before NOT you’re boobs!” I snapped envies over her ample Ta Ta’s.

“Okay whatev Michelle, but really is this shirt too low should I change it?” She asked again overly concerned about her blessings.

I admit this is not the first time I have been accused of boob ogling.
o·gle /ˈoʊgəl/ [oh-guhl]
verb, o·gled, o·gling,
1. to look at amorously, flirtatiously, or impertinently.
2. to eye; look or stare at

My good friend Andrea asked me once during a conversation if her bra was showing. Guess I was ogling her boobies and she just thought she was flashing her under-roo’s at me, nope Andrea your friends just got some issues. (Like you didn't already know that)
Another time I could swear my neighbor across the street accused me of looking at her boobs under her breath once…kind of passive aggressive like. I couldn’t be sure what she said exactly and at the time I thought I must of heard her wrong, but in my defense she does wear a lot of low cut tank tops.

But I know one thing for sure I. AM. NOT. looking at their boobies darn it!!

To tell you the truth all three of the above mention woman are very blessed in this area, so maybe…just maybe they get this all the time…you know the “hey fella my eyes are up here” kind of business. So it could be just their own insecurity’s or even their own ego thinking everyone is always talking to their chest…HA! That must be it... I’m not a perv! Phew…I'm a MAN...what...wait... Scratch that!!

OR….Maybe I do have boob envy…for shame.

Hi my name is Michelle, I’m a boob ogler….and I need help.

I kid; I really have know idea what I’m doing when I’m doing it. Its one of them subconscious things, ya know. I have problems with eye contact when I’m talking to someone, my eyes will drop from their face and apparently land on their chest when I’m thinking.
I can’t think about what someone is saying to me while I’m staring at their face…I just can’t…I’ve tried…don’t work. I think about what I see on their face…a patch of dry skin…clumpy mascara…moles…scares. It’s all part of my self diagnosed autism, when my gaze drops I don’t “see” boobies, I don’t “see” anything but inside my head, that’s what happens when you’re a visual person.
This is not a problem when I'm talking to a man, unless they have a gravy stain on their shirt then that's all I can think about. But with woman...I guess I’m seen as some kind of perverted lesbo, I don’t know, no wonder why my neighbor stopped talking to me…I hit on her too many times.

P.S. If one day we are having a conversation and I seem to be looking at your boobies... just know that I'm not...I'm really listening to what your saying and trying not to ogle at the booger in your nose.

P.S.S. What do you want to bet I'll get a ton of "Google hits" and "p*rn spam" from this post...pervs.

"federal, state and local authorities have developed this system to keep you informed in the event of an emergency."

2010-12-16T11:01:00.000-08:00

This has been an alert from the emergency broadcast system If this had been an actual emergency, the Attention Signal you just heard would have been followed by official information, news or instructions

Where the hell is my official information, news or instructions, this emergency sure has gotten my attention, now if I could get some instructions please.

What happens when the unexpected flips my world upside down, well I’m not so blissful and my babble turns to grumbles. My husband had some serious medical issues and ended up in the hospital, after 12 days he is on the mend and hopefully will be home soon. In the mean time I have been on a crazy roller coaster of not knowing and waiting. I’ve had to “deck the halls” all by myself, take out the trash and be a single parent to 4 kids, while worrying about my husband. It’s taken a toll on my fragile sanity, my diet has jumped ship, my brain’s been overheated and in all the upheaval I went and bought a new puppy. Yes I have lost my mind.

My dear husband doesn’t know about the puppy yet, and he is going to kill me. My mom told me I’m crazy and to take her back “RIGHT NOW!” My BFF said I’d be crying on the phone to her about how I should of never of gotten the dog and how I’d want to toss her out the window. My dad said I’d be known as the nutty dog lady….Maybe…maybe not.

Miss Daisy-Mae Hope ( cavalier king charles spaniel and bichon frise mix)

She has made for a wonderful distraction from all the madness, the kids LOVE her. Just look at this face…she is sweet and cuddly and makes me happy. Plus her poop is so small it’s like little tootsie rolls.

Over the last few months I have been seeking God first in all things, learning to turn to Him in times like this, and as always He has been faithful. I am so grateful for my family and friends for helping pull me through this, however without God’s grace I don’t know what I’d do. I’d guess I would fall into a pit of despair, fear, and sorrow…I have seen the end of my rope, pushed to my limit, lost hope, fallen flat on my face and in all of the darkness have reached out in prayer. I’ve been given just a little more rope, a little higher limit, a small gleam of hope, and have been lifted off the floor (sometimes by the head of my hair but I’m still on my feet).

I read somewhere this week that “God promises a safe landing, not a calm passage”. No kidding! I pray that though this pain I will continue to find purpose, I have learned how much I am loved, needed, and blessed. I have found God trusts me to handle much more than I thought, I have gotten strength only God could give, and to top it all off…a new puppy!!

My Therapist Dogged me…

2010-11-30T16:22:00.000-08:00

I know my blog header says “avoiding Therapy” but sometimes you have to face the music and realize when you’re as crazy as I am…you need to suck it up and ask for help. Life is hard just deal with it right? Well guess I’m dealing with it in the wrong ways and it’s time for some professional *cough* help.

I went twice and it was what you would expect, she asked questions that made me cry she told me I had to deal with these feelings. Whatever…I HATE feeling…why doesn’t she just deal with it for me?? Just give me Peppermint mocha, a scone and round it off with a bag of chips, just let me eat my way to comfortably numb! Well guess that hasn’t been working because now I’m just uncomfortably fat!

This is the deal, according to my Therapist, I have self-worth issues. DUH! Oh and I sabotage myself…and that’s what I need to learn how to stop doing.

I freaked out before my third appointment with said Therapist, the one that wants me to learn self-worth. I started to panic all day not wanting to go, not wanting to talk…to talk about…well that’s none of your damn business now is it. I sucked it up and went…and waited…and sat…and waited…and she never shows up! Hell good thing I’m not suicidal cause I might have just jumped out the window. Talk about teaching someone they are worth a lick…just not worth her time.

After an apology from the Therapist and another appointment I had to force myself to go to…she leaves me hanging again. Now I really think there must be something wrong with me… guess I’ll just go eat worms. Or better yet a bag of chips. On the bright side I don’t have to change my blog header.

P.S. If your feeling sorry for me please send food.

Excuse me as I grab your crotch.

2010-11-22T16:45:00.000-08:00

I realize most of us have an opinion about the major U.S. airports X-ray scan that can peer through clothes or the pat-down search that includes the crotch and chest. Although many travelers said that the scans and the pat-down were not much of an inconvenience, and that the stepped-up measures made them feel safer, it’s all over the news and people are freaking out and calling for a boycott of these major airports.

Personally I’d rather be groped then have my plane plummet into the Columbia River in a fiery ball of twisted metal, but that’s just me and you know what opinions are like.

This all made me think about those poor TSA folks who have to do the “pat-down.” Now that’s a job I would not want…everyone is pissy and offended that you’re feeling up there nether regions. Feeling peoples junk all day cannot be any fun…What kind of training would you have to go though? Would you have to pass a tests? “I’m sorry Jon, but you failed…that was not my ball sack…it was a sack of C4. Lisa however passed with her VERY thorough inspections.” *wink*

If you were a woman TAS agent having to give men pat downs…can you imagine all the lines you’d hear

“No that is not a pipe bomb…I’m just happy to see you.”

“Can you do that again…just faster and longer?”

“Wait you might want to check again I think you missed something…yeah thats it.”

"A little to the left please."

“Oh baby…and I didn’t even have to buy you dinner.”

"Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

“Got a cigarette?”

“All this attention is making my head swell.”

“Wow this gives ‘flying the friendly skies’ a new meaning.” *wink*

I’m sure that they have male agents’ pat-down men…or we would hope. I think the next time I fly I’ll stick a banana in my pants just to make things a bit more interesting.

*Imagines from AFP

Soul snatcher?

2010-11-17T15:25:00.000-08:00

Mommy: Now I lay me down to sleep,

I pray the Lord my soul to keep;

Child: Lord? What Lord? Lord of the rings? Lord of the fly’s!? And what’s my soul…can I still dance without it?

Mommy: if I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take, Amen.

Child: Amen? Wait a minute did you say DIE! What do you mean, die? Is that Lord guy going to kill me and take my soul? Is that him under the bed! I’m sleeping with you FOREVER!

As a child I never understood this prayer, even now as an adult it still kind of creeps me out. My daughter has a little stuffed lamb that says this prayer but the second verse is much sweeter. It says “the angles watch me though the night and keep me in their blessed sight.” Angles are a lot less likely to create fear in small children, don’t ya think.

I started praying regularly with my first son, he was about two and saying a little prayer with him was part of his bed time routine. To be honest it was more for me, not really knowing how to pray, it was good practice and a two year old has no idea if you don’t know what you’re doing.

He loved to ask God to bless his Grammy and Papa and we both got comfort knowing he felt safe to drift off to sleep under Gods watch. Anything is better than worrying that someone might snatch your soul in the dark…I should know.

I realized that my Son knew the full power of prayer at the age of four, I heard him cry out to God from the bathroom one day. Well actually he screamed out for me first…I am his mother after all. I came running to the bathroom, flung open the door to find him on the toilet bent over red faced.

“What…what’s the matter,” I asked him.

He looked up at me with tears in his little eyes and begged...
“Mom please pray for me, my poop in stuck in my butt and won’t come out!”

Now that my dear friends is what they mean by having faith like a child, we should all follow his example and reach up to God first before falling in the pit…or the toilet whatever the case might be. Oh if you are suffering from the same affliction my son needed prayer for...you may want to keep that one off your Church’s prayer request leaflet…just a suggestion.

I have been driven many times to my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had nowhere else to go. ~Abraham Lincoln

Night Prayer:

Watch, O Lord,
with those who wake,
or watch or weep tonight,
and give your angels charge
over those who sleep.

Tend your sick ones,
O Lord Jesus Christ;
rest your weary ones;
bless your dying ones;
soothe your suffering ones;
pity your afflicted ones;
shield your joyous ones;
and all for your love's sake.
Amen.

This ancient prayer, attributed to Saint Augustine of Hippo

Avoiding the Pit Fall...Life's lessons learned the hard way.

2010-11-05T17:44:00.000-07:00

Oh honey have I ever been having a journey as of late, the breaking down of walls and a break though to personal Joy. I’m giving up the fight and giving into God's leading in my life, giving up on proving myself to the things of this world and realizing how valuable I really am. If you will, take my hand as I open my heart and show you how God’s making it a beautiful place again.
Do you remember that classic video game “Pit fall?” The goal of the game is to swing over these big pits, on the bottom are some evil things just waiting to kill you down there in the pit. If you reach up and grab hold of the vine you can swing over the pit avoiding the alligators and scorpions, good thing It’s only a video game, to be honest I don’t have the upper arm strength to swing myself over a golf hole.

Wonder if we reached up before falling into the pits of life? What if in times of pain, sadness, insecurity, arguments, fear, and doubt we first turned to God? It’s been my prayer on my own life, that like a child that has fallen cries for mommy, I cry out to Him first. It’s not an instinct for me, for the most part I cry and whine to everyone but Him and only reach for God when all else fails, I’m deep in the pit and the scorpion is about to sting. I have thought pitifully little of the person God has made me; I’ve despised myself and considered myself inferior to others. What a foolish child I have been, He has made a wonderful treasure in me and in you dear sister. We were not meant to suffer alone behind a wall of shame, God wants us to reach up for Him first, we are deserving of His grace.

When I was 17 I worked at McDonald's with a wonderful woman named Louise. Louise was an older lady, to me she looked OLD but in reality she was maybe 50. During the lunch rush things would get hairy, we would run out of Coke, someone would no-show for their shift, or a bus load of people would pull into the lot, and on a good day all of this would happen at once. If you have ever worked fast-food you know it’s the pits, the customers cab be jerks, you have to be fast, and get paid squat. Poor old Louise was not fast, however she had something I didn’t have. During stress filled moments I’d often find Louise in the back room, hands clasped together, eyes closed, head bowed.

“The drive threw is wrapped around the building, the fries are screaming, and I’m by myself, WHAT ARE YOU DOING BACK HERE!” I’d ask her sweetly.

“Praying for the Lords strength,” she would reply, take a deep breath and make her way back to the fries with a renewed sense of peace about her. I’d roll my eyes stomp back to the drive threw window, toss a sack of burgers at the waiting car, and bark into my head set “would you like fries with that?!” Part of me envied that peace Louise had, but I wouldn’t be caught dead praying in the break room, (because if you know me at all you know I was a flaming feminist atheist back then) prayer was for weak old women. HA! It’s almost painful to realize how foolish I was.

Allison DuBois (yes the woman who inspired the hit TV series “Medium”) paints a beautiful picture in her book “don’t kiss them good-bye,” of God’s hand. I won’t get into the whole psychic thing, weather her vision was true (I believe it is) or only to comfort her…it’s a powerful one.

“As I watched the towers fall, I had a vision. I saw a woman in a blazer and skirt; she was huddled on the ground next to a desk. She was scared and she was praying as the building crumbled around her. I started to feel anger that she had to die this way. In that moment I saw the strongest, kindest, golden-white light descend though the ceiling above her and as it lowered, settling over her, it took shape of a hand. In that swift and loving gesture, the woman’s fear was removed and she knew that she was no longer alone.…. The hand was that of a God whose only intention was to show some level of mercy. The hand of this higher power covered people, shielding some of them from certain death. The same hand swiftly carried over those that He needed to call home. ”

This is an extreme example of the power of God’s hand, but He can work this same power in our lives even in the simple every day. All we have to do is reach up and He will settle over you removing your fear, bringing you peace. And honey I’m here to tell you that He has pulled up some deep roots of fear from even this damaged girl. So before we fall into the pit and have to scream out to God for mercy to avoid becoming alligator supper, reach up. I’ve learned that it doesn’t matter if your praying for strength during a stress filled lunch rush or Crying out in despair over a dyeing friend's hospital bed, He hears us and is merciful.

That all sounds fine and dandy for you Michelle, but that’s just not me…I don’t Pray.

Awe well grasshopper; let’s look into that with a follow up post about Prayer, if you will humor me I’m very excited to show you how He washed away all my doubt and smacked me up side my insecure head…

Boo...

2010-11-03T13:28:00.000-07:00

Can anyone please tell me what happened to October? Anyone? I blinked and it was gone, I've looked everywhere and all I could find was the Joy it left behind.

Birthday cake...pumpkins...a little spooky...bright falling leaves...and lots of trick-or-treat candy.

And the Joy of just being loved.

October gave a party;

The leaves by hundreds came -
The Chestnuts, Oaks, and Maples,
And leaves of every name.
The Sunshine spread a carpet,
And everything was grand,
Miss Weather led the dancing,
Professor Wind the band.
~George Cooper, "October's Party"

Flailing around like a fool

2010-10-18T15:27:00.000-07:00

I struggle daily with my relationship with God and the plan he has for my life, the path he leads me down is unfamiliar territory and downright scary. When I stretch myself beyond my comfort zone and take a few shaky steps on His path I find joy, excitement, and happiness like no other, there is always great reward down this road. But soon I start freaking out, get uncomfortable and find myself flailing around like a fool, worried and insecure.

I didn’t grow up in the Church; frankly this “FAITH” thing is weird to me. My mom did start taking us to Church when I was 11. I started looking forward to youth group as a teen, where I spent most of my time making out with boys behind the Church. I didn’t find Jesus at Church, but I did find out that most boys could be tempted with some sweet cherry lip-gloss.

Like Jonah and his Whale, (Y’all know that Bible story right?) I fight against God’s desires for my life; I give him attitude and walk away. Not that I think others are undeserving to know God’s heart, Love, mercy and forgiveness, mostly I fear looking like an idiot. Sometimes I think it would take a lot more than some little whale to make me move.

Who am I to tell you about God anyway? I am not a Bible teacher; I didn’t even grow up in a “God centered home,” Heck most Sundays I can’t even get my ass out of bed to make it to Church. I was a self-proclaimed Atheist for most of my life. I misquote the Bible and misunderstand the meaning of verses’, (as my husband will quickly point out) I gossip and use bad words, I don’t have a college degree and to top it all off I’m dyslexic…
far far far far far from perfect!

Before Jesus entered into my heart, I was a mess, totally fucked up, and lost. Now I wasn’t whoring myself out for crack, but I was in a pit. (Wow I’m such a rebel I used the F-bomb and Jesus in the same sentence and I’m not drunk or talking politics). I know firsthand how God’s love can bring peace and joy to a crazy messed up chick like me. Jesus has given me EVERYTHING I could ever want to be happy, But I still fight with the pull of the world, the easy life…I get angry with God when He leads me to step out…WTF Doesn’t He know I’m not Perfect and NO ONE will listen?

Do you fight God’s plan for your life, do you take the easy path, I’m right there with you sister. Why do we do it? It’s selfish really, when we have the poor WTF attitude of Jonah we fail to reach others and we fail our own journey. But when we are on the path God has laid for us, people will hear and respond in Faith.

How? Seek…sister…Seek. If we purpose to do God’s will, we will know His leading and the Peace of God will rule in our hearts. (Col 3:15)

I may not be a Bible scholar but I know this for sure… in Jesus…
We have Life in His name
We have Peace in His rule
We have Hope in His promise
We have Faith in His love
We have Joy in His forgiveness
We have Grace thought His sacrifice

Dear Pittsburgh Stealers, may I have my husband back please?

2010-10-12T16:11:00.000-07:00

Maybe you have noticed its football season, and I know I speak for everyone when I say football should be outlawed. Ok not everyone will agree with me but I know you football widows understand. Would it be wrong to wish my husband’s team go down in hot smoldering flames? The sooner the better I say! I’m very serious; I wish bad things on the Stealers. They have caused a problem in my household that, regrettably, has reached epidemic proportions.

I don’t hate the game of football, I even enjoyed going to a game when the Stealers played a rare game against the Seattle Seahawks, I was in fear for my life wearing black and gold into the Seahawks stadium, but fun all the same. So I don’t hate the sport as a whole, I just hate the Stealers for stealing my husband.

Now you may think I exaggerate, but I am not lying when I say the Stealers have sucked the brain out of my husbands head. It’s like nothing you have ever seen in your life, he becomes a raving lunatic when his Stealers are playing. His mood is subject to how the game is going, he swings way up high and happy when their winning, but honey if they lose watch out, down he goes! He once spiked a football so hard on a bad play it almost took out our 5 year old.

The Stealers gain complete control over his body and mind, he hears and sees nothing or no one but the game. He screams at the TV so loud that the neighbors know the score and the fire department is on standby in case his head should explode and set the block on fire.

My husband, like most men, is not one to get overly emotional; in fact he is very laid back. He has seen me give birth to our children and never shed so much as one tear, however I’ve witness him weep when the Stealers loose a close game in the playoffs.

Professional football is every exciting, competitive and breeds character, you know with all them men it tight leggings chasing after a misshapen ball and all, I get that. But with all the mood swings, screaming, yelling and crying, what I don’t understand is how football can take a man and turn him into a menstruating woman.

I am so getting hell when he reads this….Gooooo ~~down~~ Stealers!!!

p.s. in case you didn't get it...Steelers is spelt wrong to be ironic...not to be confused with my normal moronic.

Whats with all that Luggage Lady!? Let it go...

2010-10-06T16:16:00.000-07:00

Last week I told you a story about my friend Emily and how we laughed about the horrible day she had getting to the Doctors office. Emily was running late because she stopped and got herself a much needed and much deserved Starbucks coffee, of which she didn’t even get to enjoy because she was rushing and stressed. She was so overloaded and overwhelmed she lost out on that little bit of Joy. Laughing about our stress is a great way to lift some of the weight of our baggage. I do it all the time, make fun of myself, even blogging about my blunders and burdens in life is a wonderful way to get them off my back. BUT do I let them go? No, duh I’m a woman, don’t we all have tons of worry, are we not brainwashed from a young age that worry, stress, baggage and all of it is just part of life.

I remember being about 8 when a neighbor girl and I went into her shed and peed into a canning jar. Since I was always a pushover, I peed into the jar first, not an easy thing to do mind you. We held the urine filled jar up to the light and saw that floating around in my pee was dirt, gunk and a dead spider. After I dumped out my sample, my neighbor friend peed into the same jar but the light revealed no gunk or dirt in her pee. My friend, who had not ever attended any kind of medical school, told me according to the test results, I was dirty inside and she was clean. Well of course 30 years later I know that I had just peed into a dirty jar, but I was convinced I was sick and going to die. I worried about it for weeks and thought for sure I was an unclean person (and I secretly hated that neighbor girl for being clean and gunk free.)

How do we stop this worry and fretting about things we have no control over? How do we let go and find more joy in life? How do we get a clean jar to pee in? Wait for it…..it’s coming…..hold on…..ready….

How the hell should I know?? I have no idea; if I did I’d be skinny and happy, not fat, sassy and blogging about it. I mean if you really want to hang on to that baggage, I say own it baby. Hold on tight to that stress and worry, who am I to tell you to let it go? I have crap and I’m proud, shout it out sister! Bet I have more crap then you, I once peed a spider! Heck maybe you enjoy being a victim to your burdens, do you? Naw, no one gets off on being overwhelmed and overloaded (is that redundant?).

I know one thing for sure, Emily is no longer stressed, all of Emily’s burdens have been lifted and she is no longer looking for a little peace because she has complete peace. Emily is dead. Is that what it is going to take for us to drop some of this crap that weighs us down, death? How’s that saying go?…I can rest when I’m dead.

It’s a beautiful day, think I’ll take a slow stroll up to the store and enjoy me a Starbucks, the dust, dishes, and drama aren’t going anywhere, ya want to come?

Whats with all that Luggage Lady!?

2010-09-27T15:30:00.000-07:00

My friend Emily told me this story once about how she took her infant daughter to a well check doctor’s appointment. She was walking into the office carrying her baby girl in one of them infant car seats in her right hand, her over stuffed, but fashionable, diaper bag was flung over her right shoulder; her purse hung from the crock of her left arm, and in her left hand was her Starbucks coffee. She was in a hurry, running late and it didn’t help that she was wearing some very cute and very high heal shoes. I remember Emily laughing as she described the look on the faces of the people she hurried past and the horrible feeling that her thong was showing out the back of her hip hugging jeans. With her hands full Emily was unable to pull her blouse down as she felt it riding up her back with the weight of her diaper bag, and she could no easier tug up her jeans as they seemed to be creeping down from the infant car seat perched on her hip. And the best part was she had her two year old son Connor jetting off in front of her, so as she trotted in her heals bouncing her baby in its carrier and her latte splashing about, she screamed after her son with the all vigor of a very stressed mom, “CONNOR, STOP!” “CONNOR, WAIT FOR MOMMY!” “CONNOR!”

When Emily reached the Doctors office covered in sweat and coffee, she bent over to set the baby down sending her over stuffed, but very fashionable, diaper bag swinging down around her arm and smacking her baby girl right in the head, sending the contents of the bag spilling onto the floor and her baby into fits. When the mess was picked up and the baby settled down, she hiked her pants back up over the crack of her ass, and put her blouse where it should be. Emily soon realized not every thing was right in the world… her son had taken this opportunity to suck down her much needed Starbucks!

Have you ever felt like the sweet things in life were just with in arms reach, but all the baggage your carrying with you, all the time everyday, keeps you from drinking them in? Is all of that baggage even yours?! Did you pick up someone else’s luggage too? What is that there on your back? Is that a pack of garbage your Mother in Law dumped on you last week? Why are you still lugging that around? What about that baggage under your eyes, are you missing out on some sleep, busy digging though your head looking for a way to fix someone that insists on staying broken?

Me? Oh here look at this, my over sized purse of crap, isn’t it cute. I like to open it up sometimes, run my fingers around in it, stir up some nasty smelling poop, get myself nice and worked up, and maybe even share some of my crap with my friends. I keep it around because its mine, it stinks and it’s stressful, but it’s my crap and I own it. Sure life would smell sweeter, and feel a lot lighter if I got rid of it, but just like Emily’s very fashionable diaper bag, there might be something in there I would need some day….right?

Naw, unlike Emily’s diaper bag it has nothing I need in it! The dam thing just keeps wielding around and smacking me upside the head sending me into fits, I could really do with out it. Our luggage, our unwanted carry on so to speak, keeps us from doing the things we need to do, want to do. Keeps us from hiking up our jeans and taking on the world for all its wonder, we just keep running around with our ass crack hanging out not being able to do a dam thing about it. If we weren’t so weighted down, our arms so full, and our view so obscured we could fly.

So how do I let go? How do you let go? Let God...

Oh honey ….I’m not going to leave you hanging….This is just part one.

Ding ding ding...Mean mommy is in the ring!

2010-09-17T15:05:00.000-07:00

Ding ding ding...the homework battle has begun ladies and gentleman!
In this corner ...standing at 5 foot 6 and weighing in at *mumble mumble * pounds the all time heavy wight champion...
Mean Mommy!

And in this corner...standing at 5 foot 4 weighing in 150 pounds the returning challenger with the smart mouth...
Reluctant Tween!

Graphic by Avery aka reluctant tween

Mean Mommy took a major hit in the first round when Reluctant Tween distracted her with a chocolate chip cookie.

But Mean Mommy comes back strong in the second round rocking Reluctant Tween off his feet with a one two punch, no video games or computer.

Reluctant Teen negotiates though the third round, gaining headway with his fancy foot work, dancing circles around Mean Mommy in the fourth.

In the fifth round Mean Mommy trips up and suffers a knock out right before the dinner bell. What a nail biter folks!

Reluctant Tween feeling cocky over steps boundaries and ends up against the ropes leaving victory to Mean Mommy in the sixth round.

Reluctant Tween pulls out all the punches in the seventh, it looked like he was going to take the crown away from Mean Mommy when out of know where Mean Mommy puts her foot down hard and spills blood.

…Three…Two…One!

Graphic by Avery aka reluctant tween

What an exciting match ladies and gentlemen! It was a hard fight but Mean Mommy does it again; Reluctant Tween is down for the count!

Swiss Cheese face

2010-09-09T16:21:00.000-07:00

With Kindergarten starting tomorrow I drug my very reluctant 5 year old out to get his hair cut. When we walked into the local Perfect look I was shocked to see who would be taking scissors to my son, I almost turn tail and ran out the door mumbling something about looking for the post office.
This young gal working at Perfect look had a far from Perfect look, she had metal sticking out all over her face, sporting one of them bull like rings through her nose and metal studs in her cheeks where dimples would be if she hadn't killed them. She also had tattoos running up her arms and crazy multi colored hair. Not wanting to be judgmental and look un-cool, I gave her a big smiled and let her know Sam would be getting a trim, my smile was not returned, I guess the face jewelry makes smiling difficult.

“Mom that lady is creepy,” Sam whispers to me as we follow her back to the chair, Yes, I thought, Yes she is.

Living near and working in Portland most of my life I’m not put off by lots of pricings and tattoos, Portland is famous for being “Weird” after all.
I have 6 pricings *in my ears folks, ears!* and a tattoo myself, I’ve even always wanted to get my nosed priced, so who am I to cast stones. But I couldn’t help think if you’re going to be working with the public you should probably try and avoid scaring the crap out of small children, hell she scared me.

I know I’m getting old because I really wanted to tell her, “You have such a pretty face why did you want to mess it up with all that metal.” But I kept my mouth shut and just kept smiling like a moron.

As she was working on Sam’s hair, he sat trying to avoid looking at her for fear she would give him the Weegee stare and kill him. I, on the other hand could not help staring at her...I noticed the area around her cheek impalements looked raw and sore and you could see into the hole in her face. This made me think what having holes in your face would be like.

Having a Swiss cheese face can’t be easy, think of all the things you can’t do, like whistle or blow bubbles with chewing gum, could you even suck a milkshake though a straw. *OMG I'd die before giving up milkshakes* You couldn’t blow up a balloon; you might shoot one of them studs out of your face and hurt someone.
And what about leakage? Would you wake up in the morning with drool running out of your face holes?
You can’t be a happy person if the simple act of smiling and laughing cause’s pain or do you think punching holes through your face muscles makes you smileplegic?

She didn’t smile the entire time she cut Sam’s hair, in the end she completely messed it up, when I asked her to take more off the top... she took more off the back. I was too afraid to ask her to fix it, tipped her four bucks and took my little Dorothy Hamill home. When my husband told me to take him back and have them fix his “dorkcut” I told him I couldn’t because I was scared she would use him in a Wicken sacrifice or something.

Before

Dork-cut

Maybe she was trying to give him that "Justin Beeper" (whatever) cut, but if you think I'm going to be blow drying, flat ironing and styling a 5 year olds hair every morning you're nuts!

Zoo Tails

2010-09-06T06:08:00.000-07:00

My husband got up this Sunday morning and asked me, “What are we doing for Family fun today.” Well the only fun I had planed was cleaning the house and doing laundry, not exactly what he had in mind. With some brain storming we came up with the Zoo, great day for the Zoo since it was in the high 60s and little chance of rain.

So we packed up the kids and headed for the Washington Park Zoo, 30 minutes and several arguments with my 5 year old later we coughed up 40 bucks *and a little white lie that my 12 year old was 11* and we were ready for some “Family fun.” Well fun if you like butts.

The animals where not happy to see us, if they happen to be out, they wouldn’t cooperate. It started with the Lion, all we could see was his hairy back side and a giant pair of, well you know. My son yells, “Hey mom take a picture of the Lion!” “Of what?” I ask, “his butt?” Bet you can't guess what he yells next..."And his furry tenders, thier huge!"
So that’s how it went all “Family fun” day, my 5 year old Sam crying that he wanted to go home, and animals giving us the “Tail”.

Here we have a bit of Warthog butt.

A big ol Rhinoceros butt, he looked kind of...I don't know...dead, I had to make sure he was breathing, he was just napping tho.

Zebra was having none of us, just talk to the butt.

Some kind of Monkey butt.

Gazelles have cute butt’s, they keep in shape with all that running.

Can you tell who’s butt this is? Hey this could be a new segment on Sesame Street.

And the biggest Butts of all…..My kids.

Here is Jonah, just plan old pooped out from all the “Family fun”.

Sam is just Done, even had to ride with his sister because he was so tiered, wanted to go home, and didn't want to see anymore animals…sheesh…What a butt head.

What kind of Family fun did you do this weekend?

Mommy Rhapsody...Saturday sunshine

2010-09-04T13:05:00.000-07:00

Leanne, The Jerk, and long flowing stuff

2010-09-02T20:54:00.000-07:00

When my wonderful friend Leanne @ from chaos comes happiness“Tagged” me on her blog I could not refuse her, its not that I'm to cool for "Tags" I never seem to have the time for them, but I'll make time her.
Leanne is awesome in so many ways, I love reading her blog because she is always true to herself and full of life, she is also very talented. I was lucky enough to have had her design my blog header and it makes me smile every time I see it. If you are looking for some great design work or something amazing to read go check her out.

So here we go… the following questions were given to me by Leanne, they are fun and deep, just like her.

1. What is your all-time favorite movie (the one that you can watch over and over, when just hearing it in the back ground is enough to imagine exactly what is happening on the screen)?

I love anything Steve Marten, from “the Jerk” to “Cheaper by the dozen” you can’t go wrong with Steve, he makes water squirt out of my eyes.

2. Tell me about one Halloween costume you remember wearing as a child.

Growing up we never had much money and we moved around a lot. I often went as a gypsy woman, I’d wear my mom’s long flowing skirts and peasant top with big hoop ear rings lots and lots of bangle bracelets, my mom would tie my long hair back with scarves. It was fitting really, being a gypsy woman, since I never lived in one place long enough to go to the same school for a full year.

3. Why did you start blogging?

Being that I love to make others laugh even by making fun of myself, I offten say silly dumb stuff on my FaceBook status, one day my friend Mary commented “you always crack me up, you should have a blog”. Well I never really thought about it…but I looked into it and here I am. I enjoy it much more than I ever thought I would.

4. What makes you happy?

'Oh my…. When my husband gropes me in the kitchen and call me his honey muffin, that makes me happy. It makes me happy that my kids Love when I read to them. Ice cream makes me happy. Blog comments make me really Happy.

5. If you were able to go back in time, where would you go and why?

I’d like to visit the renaissance times, live as the women did back then, with the long gowns, hooded cloaks, flowing hair and were treated like woman should be treated….Like a Goddess. Yeah I’d like to ride through the forest on my big white stallion with my large bosoms busting out of my corset…oh sorry forgot where I was for a min.

6. What was the last thing you bought at the grocery store?

This morning the only way to get the kids out of the house and take a walk with me was to bribe them with doughnuts…we walked to the grocery store and bought 6 doughnuts, 4 chocolate milks and a Starbucks (the true reason for the walk)

7. How do you take your coffee? (If you don’t drink coffee … wait, let me get a handle on that … YOU DON’T DRINK COFFEE??? Ok, if you don’t drink coffee, then what is your favorite beverage?)

I like my coffee every morning with Carnation vanilla nut creamer….yummy.

8. Brag a little . . . tell me about a recent RAK (random act of kindness) that you took part in.

Huh? You are killing me here! Let’s see, I always try to do a little RAK, holding doors open, sharing a smile, teaching my kids kindness. I guess the last thing I did was pick up (instead of steeping over it like everyone else) someone’s Visa card off the floor of Wal-Mart and turned it in to customer service, because that’s what I would of wanted someone to do if I dropped my credit card on the floor of Wal-Mart.

This was fun, thanks Leanne! Now I am going to be lame, because I’ve run out of time, and not forward the “Tag”.

Your welcome.

TMI about GYN

2010-08-26T06:00:00.000-07:00

My pelvic floor is pretty much shot, after 4 vaginal births, its seen better days. Being that I worked in an ob/gyn office I’ve seen what can happen when your pelvic floor gives out, it isn’t pretty. Let’s just say you sure in the hell don’t want to be sitting across from me when I sneeze, you could get impaled by my IUD.

Today I find myself sick, some junk I’m sure I picked up from our Doctors office. My 5 year old goes in for his last vaccinations before kindergarten and I walk out with some crud. It never fails, what is with parents taking their sick kids to the doctors, I mean if your kid is shivering in a blanket in the waiting room...put a dam mask on them or something…or leave them in the car…sheesh.

I am not a happy sick person (duh) because as you know moms don’t get sick days, my house is a dump and at this point I’d rather take a match to it then clean it. And how is it that you can’t suck air in through your nose but snot can drip out nonstop? Do you have any idea what loads of herbal tea, constant hacking, and a week pelvic floor make? Damp underroos!

But the good news about my pelvic floor (Cause I know you are just dying to know) is that my fate is in my genes, no not the damp jeans I’m wearing now, buy my genetics. My grandmother gave birth to 8 kids and still has all her original hardware in its original place. Way to go grandma, and thank God we have IUD’s now a days!

The Ugly truth about my BFF...

2010-08-21T17:28:00.000-07:00

There is a reason my BFF has truly been my Best friend forever, since 5th grade. We call it the "first 5th grade" because we both got held back and had to do 5th grade twice, gives you an idea of what kind of friends we are. After 27 years of friendship she is still holding up her end of it and going strong, the following is a pretty typical conversation between us.

Me: (Licking Chili Cheese Fritos dust from my fingers) Tanya I am just so pissed at myself I can’t even stand it anymore, you have NO idea, I just can’t believe it!

Tanya: Really? What’d you do now?

Me: I don’t even want to talk about it...It's just too horid.

Tanya: Then what’d you call me for?

Me: OK OK ...well you know I got this super cute top last summer, and it like fit me really good and I’d get complements on it, you know like ‘wow that top is so cute, you’ve lost more weight’ and stuff like that.

Tanya: Yeah…

Me: Well I have it on right now and I look like a stuck PIG, like an pink over stuffed sausage, I’m so pissed, my gut is rolling over the top of my pants and this shirt has gotten so tight, it looks like I stuffed a tractor tier in there or something, its not a little muffin top it’s a fricking 3 layer cake!

Tanya: You must have shrunk it in the dryer.

Yup, She is a big fat liar...and THAT is what true friends are for…keep you in denial about the pounds that are creeping back on. But the ugly truth is sitting right here on my lap...

The ugly truth!

A. The painful button mark from my pants as payback for having to hold up my fat ass all day.

B. what would be a cute beauty mark if it wasn't for all the ugly over shadowing it.

C. My belly button that is so deep I could lose a Lego man in it.

D. Bottom and Top cake layers of flabby stretch marked belly fat.

E. Stark White frosting from years and years of lack of sun light.

F. Top layer of cake, sagging boobies (keeping it clean here so no booby shots and those are my finger tips so stop squinting at the screen boys)

So back to eating less and moving more...but Truth? I'd rather sit on my bum and eat some more icecream. Its all my BFF's fault for leaving and moving 4 HOURS away, I don't know how its her fault ...but it is.

Thou shall not read…

2010-08-16T20:20:00.000-07:00

Teachers will tell you that reading to your kids every day will help them learn and give them a love of reading. They jam it in your face every chance they get, teachers send home reading logs and books and truck loads of pamphlets on the benefits of reading. Like a cult, at first they are kind and sweet about it, but next thing you know your going to burn on a stake for turning in a incomplete reading log. (Sidenote: I agree kids should be reading, this is not a teacher bashing post, so don't click away Bossy Betty)

They also say it’s very important that your kids see you reading, by seeing you read they will want to read books just like their parents. Kids will love books if mommy loves books, that’s what they say. But they lie, all lies, lies.

I love to read; use to read all the time, every night it was me, tea, and book. I think that’s where my love of writing comes from. Even now I spend hours in the library and bring home as much as I can carry. I. love. books!

Did you know you can get books on Blogging at the Library? You can!

But my kids hate to see mommy reading, mommy reading means mommy’s not watching head stands or back flips off the couch. If I sit down with a book and a cup of coffee some alarm goes off in their little head and they need something from me, they are just dyeing of thrust, or they must get the bug out of their eye NOW. My daughter has been known to rip books from my hands and jump on the newspaper as I’m reading it.

My husband has this same alarm in his head, but his needs are different from the kids, he will stare at me while I read in bed, or ask if I'll be reading for much longer. So I've given it up.

Oh and the things they do to my books, it’s not pretty. They draw in them, spill drinks on them, rip pages out of them. What did a book ever do to my kids? It's partly my fault for having books everywhere, cause I like to have them handy, so I. Can. Read.

The dog ate this parenting book, but I think my kids put him up to it.

This is my Bible; it was so hard not to tell my daughter she was going to hell for that one.

For now I’m down to reading only children’s books to my children, because that’s the only kind I’m aloud to read. Plus I fear the teachers will find out I’m not reading to them the suggested 20 mins a day and take my parenting card away.

What do you love to read, and how do you get away with it?

Just blame your mother...cause you know your kids will blame you.

2010-08-12T18:00:00.000-07:00

The way I picture it, Motherhood is a big, well executed curse, placed on us by our own mothers as payback for the hell we put her though.

It started back when we were very small and did little things, like rubbing our poop on the walls, mom would give us the evil eye then smile, so you barely notice the signs. Then, feeling stronger about our independence as a child, we cause a bit more trouble for our mom, like lighting the living room drapes on fire. Before you know it, mom is muttering chants under her breath and looking all wield eyed, hair standing on end.

And then it’s too late, after keeping her up all night waiting, you come home smelling like an ashtray with purple hickies on your neck. Mom starts screaming and waving her hands in the air, “I pray your kids put you through the same hell you’re putting me through… I thought you were dead… how dare you do this to me…just you wait one day you’ll understand! One day. One day you’ll get yours!”

And you cement the deal by screaming back…”WHEN I HAVE KIDS, I WILL LET THEM DO WHATEVER THEY WANT AND NOT TREAT THEM LIKE BABIES!”

While you’re crying in your room over being grounded until college, mom sits by candle light, holding your baby pictures in one hand and a large glass of wine in the other. With the complete power of the curse now unleashed, she knows all she has left to do is wait.

At first we as mothers are too stupid to figure out our fate, all goo goo in love with our sweet apple cheeked babies. Lack of sleep and adult contact keep us blind to what’s about to come. We get little clues here and there, like when mom drops by, sticks a sucker in the 12 month olds mouth, gives her a new puppy, and leaves.

When the curse starts having its hold over your life, your not sure what’s going on but you notice the signs: You find yourself saying the same things over and over. “Stop pushing your sister, Stop picking your nose, put your butt back in your pants, your making me crazy, we don’t use words like ‘ass cheese’ in this house, poop stays in the potty, don't make me beat you”.
Then strange things start to happen: Your bathroom floods after Buzz and Woody take swimming lesions in your toilet. You find your underwear all over the front yard attached to army men, after a game of paratrooper. Your “Personal sensual tingling” gel ends up on the neighbors cat.

You really know what’s going on when you call your mom crying because your teen keeps telling you your “overreacting” (a word he learned from grandma) to the dogs new Mohawk, and the cars new moon roof, to which your mother say. “Oh honey don’t be so hard on the kids, boys will be boys, you did crazy things when you were a kid and look how well you turned out.”

Yep, I’m sorry to say we have all been fooled. Motherhood is a curse and part of this curse is in the end, we turn into OUR MOTHERS!

I need to take off my shoes before I open my mouth

2010-08-10T15:50:00.000-07:00

Have you ever asked someone a question, and then ask yourself why the hell did I just ask that? We all blurt things out and wish later we had said it better or not at all. It’s just not me right? Right.

I must have a taste for foot, because I’m doing that more and more lately. Some say it’s being “out spoken” I say it’s getting older and not caring so much about how others see me. Take me as I am or leave me as I am. Fighting to be something I'm not just so others like me is a thing of the past.

Like last week I was having a conversation with a friend, the conversation was going well until I felt the uncontrollable urge to ask him a question.    Being that this friend is gay he must know all things gay related. I am after all an expert on all things woman, mother, wife....NOT.   True to form I blast the question and as the words where spilling from my mouth I was kicking myself in the butt.

Me: I've got a questions for ya, before I was married I dated like five different guys that are now gay. What is with me that I attracted men that where confused sexually?   Do you think its cause I'm like a Tom boy or something?

Friend: I don't know, I think its just chance, its not like you can turn someone gay or all gay men hide in the closet with the same kind of girl.

Yup, I felt like a dumb ass? I don’t know why I couldn't stop myself from asking him this burning question, I have no excuse. Like he’s going to know what my issues where that I went for men that where emotionally unavailable. Poor guy, lucky he has a good sense of humor, but now he’ll never let me live that one down.

Maybe, just maybe, I just wanted him to tell me that I'm so fricking hot that any man, gay or straight, would want to be with me.   That's got to be it, right? Right...RIGHT!

Let the world know you as you are, not as you think you should be, because sooner or later, if you are posing, you will forget the pose, and then where are you? ~Fanny Brice

Blueberry fields forever…a blissful trip

2010-08-04T06:00:00.000-07:00

I’m going to take you on a walk, to a place I love to go. Just though my moms backyard and down the deer path watch not to step on the wild flowers.

Past the tall grass and out of the shady wood, just wait as your eyes adjust and take in the fresh air. Its so quite here, only the occasional distant mooing of cows or a flock of crows bursting into flight, disturb the sound of the cool breeze.

Did you bring your bucket like I said, you can fill it as we walk.

Don’t eat to many save some for a friend. See the farmer is fine if you glean, but please don’t get greedy.

Just up this hill, you’ll see my favorite part.

Do you know this snow cap peak…oh I know it well. Yes that is Mt Hood, let us sit and rest a spell.

Take in the lovely day, let the sun warm your face, if you are very still you can feel God in this place.

I hope you enjoyed this little walk, what a blessing to have you along.

SpongeBob is a great role model for kids!

2010-08-02T09:24:00.000-07:00

I know a lot of parents don’t like Nickelodeon’s show SpongeBob Squarepants, but I think SpongeBob is very good role model for kids. I get that they use words like stupid, idiot, moron and barnacle head, they show their butts and use lots of good ol fart humor, they are basically clueless boneheads. Not exactly the things we want our kids emulating. Right?

SpongeBob can be a little miss-understood, look at it from another point of view. SpongeBob is always happy, in a good mood and positive. SpongeBob loves everyone; is a loyal faithful friend to a fault. He has a great work ethic, and shows great pride in his crabby patties. And has there ever been a bigger lover of animals? SpongeBob also shows an undying adoration for his grumpy neighbor Squidward.

Now if watch the show you know Squidward would rather SpongeBob fall off the face of the earth, Squidward is highly annoyed by SpongeBob and his buddy Patrick. He treats poor SpongeBob and Patrick like crap, he is very clear that he can’t stand those two and belittles them every chance he can get, Squidward is a big grumpy bully.

How do SpongeBob and Patrick handle this Bully? Ha! Now that’s the great part. They handle him with humor and wit…yeah I said it…Wit. It’s the best way to shut down a bully, bullying in school would be history, like a fart in a strong breeze, if kids these days would handle it more like these two. Seriously.

Think about it…some brat walks up to your kid in the hall and says something like…
“Hey Billy, you’re as dumb as a doorknob?”
And Billy says "Remember, licking doorknobs is illegal on other planets!" ~ SpongeBob

Don’t you agree that would stop that kid in his tracks…what can you say back to that?

Some examples of how SpongeBob and Patrick use their wit and humor to block verbal attracts.

Squidward: How dumb can you be Patrick?
Patrick: It varies.

Squidward: SpongeBob where you dropped on your head as a baby?
SpongeBob: How did you know!!

Sandy: Don't you have to be stupid somewhere else?
Patrick: Not until four.

I understand your kids are not going to have a writer to give them some good come backs, but SpongeBob can teach you kids how to use humor. See a bully can't make fun of you if you can make fun of yourself better. Its worked for my kids over the years, and so has SpongeBob.
Watching SpongeBob has benefited my kid in many ways, just the other day my uncle thought he would give my 12 year old some crap.

Uncle: Wow Avery your smelling a little ripe, ever heard of deodorant?
Avery: That’s my Manly pit smell *lifts arms and sniffs pits*, Why cover this up with deodorant? I like my man smell, don’t you.

Now that I think about it maybe that’s not the best example of a benefit.

Dumb people are always blissfully unaware of how dumb they really are...

-Patrick

Sunday Super Short

2010-08-01T13:52:00.000-07:00

My goal in life is to be as good of a person my dog already thinks I am. ~Author Unknown

The dog was created specially for children. He is the god of frolic. ~Henry Ward Beecher

I'd rather be walking the Dog.~

You know your insecure when...

2010-07-30T10:47:00.000-07:00

You know your insecure when…

You call Customer service 12 times a day just to hear how your call is very important to them.

You cry after being mugged, not because some punk stole your hand bag, but because he called you a b*tch.

Your feelings are hurt because your lesbian friend has never hit on you, even though you are not only straight but married with kids.

You follow your own blog to boost the numbers.

No matter who or why someone is unhappy you know it’s got to be your fault.

No matter who or why someone is laughing you know it's got to be at you.

You fear your toddler doesn’t loves you anymore when she no longer cries when you leave the house, and you start pinching her just before you walk out to make yourself feel better.

You feel like you’ve missed out on being a hooker after watching “Pretty Woman” and wonder if it’s too late.

Every time you go to church you’re convinced the message was directed at you personally.

You shoot me an angry email for writing this post about you.

In Washington there are no specific laws stipulating the age at which a child can be left home alone...I think I need to take advantage of that more often...wow you can really put a lot in a title.

2010-07-27T05:08:00.000-07:00

Why do I take my kids out of the house? You would think I’ve learned my lesson by now.

Like the time I was checking out at Wal-Mart and my 5 year old son starts singing some song he heard on someone else’s radio, cause I only play soft christen music in my car.

Sam: “Honeys got a booty like POW POW POW … Honeys got some boobies like WOW oh WOW! Oh oh ohohoh oh my gosh”

This complete with dance moves and booty shaken.

Oh my gosh is right, but I guess people have come to expect this kind of behavior from kids in Wal-Mart. Super

I should have never taken that kid out in public again. But NOOOOO I have a compulsive need for embarrassment and dirty looks from strangers.

As written in the Bible, if a child is taken into a store, he has to go to the bathroom. This need to pee must happen (according to Jon 24:7) at the furthest possible point from the restrooms and with great urgency. If I’m not mistaken (and of course I am) it reads, “He who has no understanding of a Child’s self-control is foolish and reckless – that is his folly and his shame.”

So today while in the Garden center at Lowes Sammy informs me and the rest of the planet that he has to GO NOW. And where is the Restroom at Lowes, that’s right, on the other side of Lumber clear across the great vast.

Here is where the folly and shame come in. Seems it’s a busy day at the Ladies room, as we wait for a stall to empty Sam explains to me that he is a boy and should use boy’s bathroom, then goes into why he is a boy.

Sam: because I have a dink and tenders…girls don’t have dinks or tenders.

Just super.

When a stall opens up I shoo Sam inside.

Sam: Mom I just got some pee on my shirt...why does it stinks so bad in here.

Super, now I’m trying not to laugh.

Sam: (singing) It’s 3am I’m a little drunk and I need you now…(huge fart)...Holy cow that was a big one! Mom did you hear that? Mom...mom...

Dirty look from strange lady with silly glasses

Me: Wash your hands and let’s go.

Sam: Why do I have to wash my hands, I never wash them at home.

Super Dee Duper.

Autism: it's a trip ~ we've come a long way baby

2010-07-26T15:06:00.000-07:00

“Your Aspergers is showing.”

This is what my husband says to me when I am having an anxiety melt down, or getting overly excited (not that kind of excited…sheesh…get your mind out of the gutter).

You see our oldest son Avery has Aspergers syndrome, and my husband says he gets it from me. I frankly don’t know what he is talking about; stop looking at me. If you’re not aware of what Aspergers (AS) is, and you give a rat’s fart, Google it. (And NO it is not like Rain Man)

For us AS has been a real rollercoaster ride, the kind where you just never can get off no matter how much you want to, mostly because your butt is glued to the seat. Now that my son is 12, the ride is not so scary and I want to toss my cookies a lot less, but the ups are still ups and the downs can still get you running to the local market for some beer and smokes.

Today I’m going to share our journey through this wonderful and scary world of AS, and the Hope that comes after the nightmare. So buckle up and enjoy the ride, the barf bags are located under your seat.

When you accept the hard fact that you child is not “Normal” you grieve the loss of the child you envisioned having; the one that may never learn to ride a bike or even tie his own shoes. You fear the unknown and are paralyzed by the possibility of having a "dysfunctional child”.

I remember sitting across the table form my sons second grade teacher, in one of them little chairs, ya know the ones that you just can't feel like an adult in, as she tried to tell me she thought my son had AS…then try and explain to me what AS was…poor woman. Once she said the word autism, I turned her off "there is no way my son has autism," I informed her, “he doesn’t rock in the corner flapping his hands and banging his head on the wall, are you new or just stupid." (Ok I didn’t say that last part, but I wanted to) He was our first son, to us he was fine, to us there was nothing wrong, and to us …we were lost.

At first it was 6 months of complete denial, lack of knowledge, pain and confusion. Then we could no longer fight what was staring us right in the face (or in this case what was NOT staring us in the face).

Dealing with the reality that your child is not like all the others kids, that he isn’t “normal” is overwhelming to say the least. But adding the stress of getting a diagnosis, finding the right doctors, jumping threw hoops dealing with the school system, driving to all the therapy apts, OC, PT, Speech, Social skills groups etc etc. can be downright exhausting and emotionally suffocating.

We, or more like I, (husbands seem to have a harder time dealing with this kind of stuff then moms) read every book ever written on AS and spent countless nights up to 3 am searching every web site and support message board on the internet, slowly we/I (He took longer to come around) begin to understand our sons thinking, and why he does what he does. We realized it’s not our bad parenting … (like every one said behind our backs and worse, sometimes to our faces) We started using the new tools we learned, cause everything you’ve ever known about parenting didn’t work with our kid. Then Avery started using the tools he learned…and before you know it a weight started to lift and the black clouds part.

It’s been a long crazy scary journey, and at some point my theme song had become:

Bob Marley's - I Can See Clearly Now (for the rest of this post this song should be playing in the back of your head)

Through our journey I've gained a passion, a mission, a purpose to advocate for my son. To push back at the school system that wanted to put him in the “resource room” or use a “jacket” to tie/weigh him to the chair. I’m not making this stuff up. As a parent you find out fast your on your own, no one holds your hand.

It would of been easier to just label my child as "broken" played the victim, sat back, thrown my hands up, saying “poor me” at the crappy hand life dealt me…my son has a neurological disorder and he'll always have limits and problems. Letting Avery fall through the cracks and into that box labeled "broken"

I couldn’t put him in that box; it’s been a struggle and a fight the whole way even now. I made a choice to fight hard…But I couldn't have done it without God and his hand in my life. With lots of prayers begging "God help me, give me something... anything I can't do this by myself.” God gave me the strength and clarity...His loving hand opened doors for me; brought supportive people into my life, and showed me the way around road blocks.

God has shown me how to remove the label off of Avery…Our son may have Aspergers but it doesn't have him, man has set limits on him; God has not. I focus on the gifts and what a true blessing he is, as the song goes, "Nothing but blue skies." God has blessed me with Avery for a reason and with my love he can do great things.
"All the bad feelings have disappeared."

Today I honestly think that if we had Avery tested (again) for Aspergers, it would be a test he would fail with flying colors. “There is the rainbow I’ve been praying for.”

I'd like to think that Avery is an example of what is possible, to quote Avery when I told him what I was writing about...

“I’m an example of all that is awesomeness!"

All we need is a spark, that starts a fire of hope…when you put your fears in God’s hands and focus on the gifts they become limitless.

Wecome to my town, where they grow milk jugs

2010-07-24T16:12:00.000-07:00

I’m going to take y’all on a small tour, forgive the photographs I am not skilled at taking photos. Plus all the photos you are about to enjoy are taken from my car going like 50MPH.

This is what you see when pulling out of my street, nice huh? They bail hay here. I know boring...WAKE UP!

Some old barns that I LOVE. Are you Yawning?

Here you might find some cows.

Oh here are some cows now. This is what we say when we see the cows. “LOOK! Cow Maggie, what do cows say?” “Moooooooo”

“Look, horses Maggie what do horses say?” “Moooooooo”

I really like the old beat up old houses, reminds me of growing up. (No Mom I’m not trashing my childhood again)

This one is kind of creepy even in daylight.

Now here we have our local Dairy farm, at the local stores you can buy the local milk, for 5 times the price of milk shipped in from like, I don’t know, Canada.

In our family we have a disagreement about what is under the white plastic.
I say its cow dung, because it stinks to high heaven, when you drive by you wish you could cut off your nose and leave it at home.

My husband says “it’s all the dead bodies of the wife’s that blame their husband’s for farting in the car when they drive by. That one even has a smiley face on it, bet some happy husband put it there.” “ Talk to the hand stinky”…I say

Milk cows, which make the high priced local Milk.

Oh and here is where they grow the milk jugs. Bet you didn’t know Milk Jugs grew on farms. We have the only milk jug farms in the World! That’s why our Local milk is soooo expensive, the Jugs are Organic.

No, really what is this guy doing with all the jugs on a stick? My dad says its a way to keep moles away from your yard. (my dad is an expert on lawn care, moles and how to buy anything for a dime). According to my dad, The wind blows the jug, that vibrates the stick, and sends the mole culprit running for his life. "Its the humane way," Dad tells me." I just toss a smoke bomb down the hole and smoke the suckers out."

Well I think this guy is smoking something, because the moles sure have him fooled. I just picture all the moles sitting around pointing and laughing at the guy as he mows around them milk jugs on sticks.

And someone should tell him its not working, cause after all these years he keeps putting out more and more jugs. That tells me maybe the moles like the jugs and the vibration they make, cause they keep making holes for them. I don’t know just a thought.

Dr Fix it?

2010-07-23T05:57:00.000-07:00

Parents I am here to solve all of your child’s medical needs, Ha! Only joshing. Seriously though I have discovered that most of your child’s injuries can be repaired by something found in tool box or maybe your junk drawer.

Today I had to run my 2 year old daughter up to the Doctors office. Seems she some how (and I have know idea how) ripped her fingernail completely off the nail bed, in medical terms its call a “fricking gross lifted nail.” Her poor little nail is being held on at the cuticle…gives me the Hebe gee-bees.

I know the photo is bad, my cameras a piece of junk, but can you make out the discolored little nail?

So the Doctor has a quick look and says “some Superglue will fix that.” I’m not making this up. This guy spent 65 years in medical school and the best he can come up with is Superglue it? Superglue!
For a minute I thought maybe I walked into the wrong office, like I was really in Dr Fix-it's office "where all your handyman needs can be met."

Being the responsible mother I am, (glue…sheesh…what a quack!) I got a second option. I Goggled it.

According to the Superglue blog, (Yup even superglue has a blog;Who knew) it has been used for medical treatment for years.

During the Vietnam War, it became apparent that cyanoacrylates could be used to treat war wounds. Field surgeons began using the substance by spraying it over open wounds, which stopped bleeding instantly and allowed hurt soldiers to be transported to medical facilities for conventional treatment. This saved many lives during the war and lead to the eventual approval by the FDA of cyanoacrylates for certain medical uses. Some of these include rejoining veins and arteries during surgery, sealing bleeding ulcers, punctures or lesions, stopping uncontrollable bleeding of some soft organs, and use during dental surgery.

So I ran up to the local hardware store and got me some Krazy glue (they where all out of Superglue, guess there are alot of wounded kids out there) I got the "All purpose" kind, although it didn't list "children" on the package only wood, plastic, glass, etc etc... I thought it was best option. Then I got ready to patch up my daughter.

Here's all you need: (The candy is to keep the child busy so you can glue the wound)

It says right here on the warning label that it bonds skin instantly…so naturally why not use it on your toddler.
And that’s just what I did.

All Better, Then I used the Superglue to fix the busted handle on my coffee mug.

So the next time your kid splits his/her chin open, don’t run him up to the ER, run to your junk drawer and just superglue his/her busted chin back together. Think of all the money you'll save on medical bills!

(Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional and can not be held liable in the event any idiot Superglues their kid)

Why we scream for ice-cream

2010-07-21T19:58:00.000-07:00

Scientists calculate that the attraction between a child and an ice-cream truck can be up to sixty times as strong as mere gravity.
Scientists have also discovered that the music played by the ice-cream truck can interrupt the language center of a child’s brain, resulting in a frantic high pitch squeal.
Most parents try to correct this phenomenon by ignoring it, in hopes it will go away. The problem with this technique is that it is based on the moronic premise that the child is unaware of what is in the ice-cream truck. Ultimately this creates a secondary condition causing the child to scream in hysterics and spew water from the eyes and nose. Studies have shown that the only known antidote is to cram frozen treats into the mouth of affected child.

There is some speculation that ice-cream truck music has some affect on the mind of parents. Drivers have reported being chased down the street and shot at by garden hose welding parents. The majority of these cases seem to be in direct correlation to the fact the water blasting parents have multiple children. However what affect ice-cream truck music has on parents of small children has yet to be scientifically proven.

Bad day for the dog

2010-07-20T16:45:00.000-07:00

The great pleasure of a dog is that you may make a fool of yourself with him and not only will he not scold you, but he will make a fool of himself too. ~Samuel Butler, Notebooks, 1912

"Buck" up to his old tricks

So my dog likes to roll around in crap, not his own crap mind you. He has high standers when it comes to crap rolling, it must be the best quality organic vegan crap. Only Deer dung fits the bill.

Now when it comes to rolling in road kill or decaying matter…anything dead will do…and the deader the better.

He spent most of Sunday rolling in some of the finest Deer poo the Pacific Northwest can offer. Lucky for me organic vegan crap has a much less disgusting smell then death.

I still made him an appointment at the doggie groomers for today, he needed to be deshedded and dedunged. And the last time I gave him a bath I ended up in the tub with him, Not pretty.

Being that he is a big ol chicken and today his first time at the groomers…he literally pooped himself, guess they scared the sh*t out of the poor guy…so lets just say It didn’t go so well. I had to go in to the back and get him out myself; they informed me after the 2nd bath (cause of the pooping issue) he started snapping at the workers.

Poor dog…poor me…still have a stinky fur ball and now he is wet.

So the task of cleaning this 115lb stink tank is up to me….oh goody!

I picked up some “Fur so fresh” dog shampoo (we were out from his last roll in road kill).

This shampoo says it “Beautifies and Freshens” I need me some of that! But it says right on the bottle that it’s for dogs only…danggumit… I want a high lustrous sheen that helps eliminate yellow discoloration and stains.

It also claims to Brighten, highlight and prevent dryness.

Wonder if it will make him bright enough not to roll in crap anymore? Well at least I hope it will brighten his day!
Crap or no crap...we love the big goofball and all his tricks.

Maggie and her sweet puppy bear.

I talk to him when I'm lonesome like; and I'm sure he understands. When he looks at me so attentively, and gently licks my hands; then he rubs his nose on my tailored clothes, but I never say naught thereat. For the good Lord knows I can buy more clothes, but never a friend like that. ~W. Dayton Wedgefarth

Don't let the door hit ya...

2010-07-17T18:18:00.000-07:00

I left my husband this week…packed the kids and the dog into the mini-van and left the bum. Thought he’d miss me…nope. Thought he’d care…nope. Thought he’d change his ways….nope.

I’m such a fool.

After camping on the Oregon coast for 3 days with my parents and a herd of kids, I’m about done. I’m dirty, stinky, have sand in places sand should never go, sun burnt, chapped lipped, and I miss my bed...And now I just need a stiff drink!

My husband however…I didn't miss. He left me with a sink full of dishes and split the nana-second we all dragged butt in the house.

“Ya home already” He greets with not so open arms. As Me, Myself, and I unload the car, while tossing snacks at the kids.

“Already?” I moan, “We just spent hours in traffic, there was a wreck on I-5 and the Dog has nasty gas, the kids fought the whole drive, I about died on that freeway! My knee is killing me, my butts numb and my sunburn itches like crazy but I can’t scratch it cause it hurts like a fricking bitch when I do! And NOW I get to cook dinner, YIPPIE-YAHOO!”

“Ok, well I’m going to take the Van up to have the oil changed.” He mumbles, dashing out the door.

Well that’s just stinking awesome! “The beach was nice, thanks for asking and ya might want to have them lube a bit more then the car while your there, CAUSE I’M GOING TO BE TIRED TONIGHT!!!”

If he wasn’t so cute, I would consider leaving him forever. MEN!

10 things you never wanted to know about me…

2010-07-12T19:04:00.000-07:00

But I’m going to tell ya anyway.

1. I have a one inch gross scar over my right Butt cheek where an ugly mole was removed. And with the mole went all my hopes and dreams of ever becoming a Playboy bunny.

2. In my teens I worked at McDonald's and ended up dating my Manager…Would you like fries with that?

3. I have 5 wisdom teeth which I am to freaked out to have pulled. Plus I’d no longer be very wise if I did, right? Or would I be wise to have them pulled? I know who gives a rat’s fart.

4. In my early 20s I worked at Meier & Frank and dated my Manager. (What he was hot.)

5. If by bad fortune or bad foresight, I should happen to notice to late there is no TP left on the roll, I’ll wipe with my bath towel. Oh come on… like you’ve never done that! Sheesh...

6. When I turn off the light…I dash for my bed for fear of being grabbed in the dark. Just typing this gives me the creeps.

7. I was born on a U.S. Air Force base. At the time my Father was serving time in the clink for selling pot on base. I’m so proud of him, served our country in more ways then one.

8. When I pick up the Dog's poop in the yard…I fantasize about putting it in a box and shipping it to my nasty old boss. What…don’t judge me.

9. I pick my toenails, I can't help myself…It drives my husband crazy! And drives off any chance I Had at becoming a foot modal.

10. I’m a big Dork!

But you already know that…Are you still with me?
If so you should know my biggest blogging pet peeve is when someone comments and have clearly not read anything but the title of my post, I mean really, you can fake it better then that. So if you made it this far…congratulations you have won this amazing blogging award. But first you have to comment with something completely off the wall….like “My dog eats worms.” And as always….I’ll hit ya back. Cause I love ya and that’s how I roll.

A Big Thank you to Grownupforeal for this awesome award!

That's NOT Chocolate syrup dummy

2010-07-08T05:00:00.000-07:00

As you may already know, blogging is my new hobby; I enjoy writing mostly as a stress release. I also love making ya’ll laugh, even if at my own expense.

I have sacrificed a lot for my new hobby. One major sacrifice is my Facebook games. All my Fishville fish are belly up and pets are running amuck in Petville. I am sad to say my Farmville farm is looking extremely neglected. My crops are all wilted, my dog has long since run away, my trees are heavy with rotten fruit, and my poor farm animals...well lets just say I think PETA is about to shut me down.

I’ve sacrificed sleeping, eating (you may not know by looking at me, but I’ve skipped a few meals) and now to top it all off I’ve sacrificed my beauty…that’s right my beauty.

Last week while I was plugging away at a post my dear sweet daughter came to me looking like this…

Can you tell what is all over her sweet face? That is ALL my new whipped (very expensive) foundation. She took advantage of a very distracted mommy to get into her makeup bag and completely clean out a jar of foundation.

And if that was not enough, today as (I thought) all the kids were happily playing Wii; I was doing some blog hopping. Oh but what a fool am I. This is what my ~~little turd~~ dear sweet amazing daughter was doing…

At first I thought for sure she had gotten into the chocolate syrup... But then I looked closer…

WTF is that?? It was everywhere, up her arms down her legs. I started to freak out when it all started to slowly compute in my head…

”Oh No Maggie…no. no. no.” I mutter to myself running down the stairs to find this…

That’s my purse strung all over the kitchen floor…

This was my favorite NEW lipstick…the one I spent over an hour with the MaryKay lady to get just the right color.

And this is what the rest of my lipsticks look like…

My daughter had lipstick shoved so far up her nose, I couldn’t get it all out in the bath, she looked on the verge of a bloody nose all day. Then all the lipstick didn’t wash off her skin or hair completely… she looked all bruised and beat up…I was afraid to take her out of the house…she might be mistaken for an unwanted redheaded step child.

So the next time you see me all freckled faced and pail lipped you’ll know why.

A big Thank you to Nicole at Thats life for this blog award!
I'd love to take the time, follow the rules and pass it on...but I need to check on my kids...don't ya think?

React first and think later

2010-07-06T15:49:00.000-07:00

Ya know how the smell of cookies baking can make you happy; your feeling happy right now aren’t you? Don’t you just want one? Fresh from the oven, with some cold milk. Are you smiling with me, mouth watering just a little?

Now how about the sent of a warm, fresh dirty nappy? Nope, a loaded diaper does not invoke the same kind of reaction as home made chocolate chip cookies.

I would do about anything to get me some fresh cookies once I caught the smell of them baking. And I have done some major weird stuff to avoid having to change a pooh filled pamper!
According to some articles I have read….its not my fault!

Scent stimulates nerves to fire in the emotional center of the brain, but it also stimulates the master gland to release hormones. Hormones affect the fight or flight response, as well as digestion and heart rate.
Anxiety, depression, fear, anger, and joy all emanate from this region. The scent of a special fragrance can evoke memories and emotions before we are even consciously aware of it. When smells are concerned, we react first and think later.
(Source LeDoux, JE, Rationalizing Thoughtless Emotions, Insight, Sept. 1989)

Like when I’m working in the Church Nursery with another volunteer. If I catch a faint whiff of something funny, I react first and think later. My first reaction when I know one of them rug rats just laid a major loaf is to slowly move to the other side of the room.

If I can keep my gag reflex under control, my second reaction is to play dumb. Act like I don’t smell it in hopes the other volunteer will take care of it. But chances are she is playing dumb too. Well I’m not backing down…now it’s a game of will power…who can stand the smell the longest. She has no Idea who she is up against…I estimate in my life time as a mother I’ve changed over 4500 poopie droopies. I got this!

I know I’m winning when I see her eyes start to water…HA! So now we are both avoiding eye contact when one of the little buggers blurts…

“Ewwwww poo poo tink, poo poo tink!” Dang gumit!! When did that bugger learn to talk?

There is something just so wrong with crawling around on the floor and sniffing little back-sides, but that’s just what we had to do to find the guilty party. This does not make me a happy camper, and I don't care what kind of saint you think you are...No one would be happy doing this.

In my head I say a little prayer as I sniff little bums, I was on my knees after-all.
"Please God ….please let her find the pooper…I’ll never yell at my kids again! Please don’t make me clean up the doo doo." What! I'm in a Church, it can’t hurt right? Please don't think I'm a bad person...I'm not really…I love babies…just not their crap…anyway it’s the hormones talking!

I suddenly have a craving for home made cookies….

Blue Dragonflys

2010-07-03T08:17:00.000-07:00

One year ago today, a dear friend of mine lost her hold on this life. After almost three months in a coma, brought on by traumatic brain injury, she left us surrounded by her loved ones, gracefully landing in the arms of Jesus.

On Emily’s 25th birthday she got into a car with a intoxicated driver, never to see her two amazing children, husband, or wonderful family again.

This blog became part of my grief process, helping me deal with her loss though blissful writing, however it was not always so blissful. During her three month struggle for life, I kept a journal that acted as a punching bag of sorts, inking out my rage, pain, and fear. Rage at the driver, Pain of her loss, Fear & heartbreak for her Family.

As part of this process, I’m posting what I read at her service. Emily is gone, but what she gave lives deep in my soul. Rage, pain and fear will not replace the Joy she has filled me with.

Emily’s service

I am so grateful for Emily in my life.

Sometime God puts people in your life that you would least suspect. I would never have foreseen us becoming so close. But God had other plans.

I ended up in the bible study Emily hosted in her home….around the corner from my home.
I feel sorry for the husbands in that study as everyone of us gals ended up pregnant over the first year, 5 of us. Don’t drink the water at the Buck’s!
You know nothing bonds woman together more then crazy hormones and ultrasound photos!

So with walks around the neighborhood, shopping, play dates, and lots girl talk.. I was blessed with getting to know Emily and the true Magical person she was.

Emily never held back when it came to letting you know how she felt about you. She was like a cheerleader in that way. Often telling me that I was an Awesome mom, wife.. friend.

At our last bible study, the Wednesday before the accident. The question was asked in the study...
“Who has inspired you in your spiritual growth,” Emily's cheerful reply was “well Michelle has”.. my comeback... “oh your just saying that cause I’m sitting here”… she then told me to shut up and tossed a baby toy at me.

Well the truth is Emily inspired me!

Her giving spirit and love for others, the grace she carried naturally. She pulled a warmth out from deep inside my heart. Emily was like an old soul with a great wonder in her eyes, But with the innocents of a child that didn’t know the ugliness of the world. She was free of the bitterness so many seem to carry. A bitterness that holds us back from telling those close, I love you. Her heart held no shame. I saw that Emily filled herself with up with the love of her children, family, and friends. She did it by giving her love without end or conditions.

She never held back a hug, a joke, a smile, or a tear. Emily just didn’t hold back and she shard it with everyone. She loved life!

So having learned that from her…I’m going to honor her life by spreading her Joy in my own life. By Hugging that neck squeezing that shoulder, sharing that smile and even that tear. Her Joy, her love will live in me always.

A Friend

What is a friend? I’ll tell you.

It’s it a person with whom you dare to be yourself.

Your soul can go naked with her.

She seems to ask you to put on nothing, only to be what you really are.

When you are with her, you do not have to be on your guard.

You can say what you think, so long as it is genuinely you.

She understands those contradictions in your nature that cause others to misjudge you.

With her you breathe freely – you can avow your little vanities and envies and absurdities and in opening them up to her they are dissolved on the white ocean of her loyalty.

She understands. You can weep with her, laugh with her, pray with her- through and underneath it all she sees, knows and loves you.

A friend, I repeat, is one with whom you dare to be yourself.

-author unknown

                                                   In Loving Memory

                                           ~ Emily Ann Buck~
                                               May 9 1984 - July 3 2009

My baby's got back

2010-07-01T15:27:00.000-07:00

Could someone please tell me why designers make hip hugger jeans for toddlers?
For one thing they don’t have hips, resulting in them forever falling down.
My poor kid must be humiliated having her diaper always showing out the back her pants.
Cause, Really what girl wants everyone to know what size she is wearing, advertizing that she is in #5 huggies.

She runs around looking like an old man all day, I'm sure she can't be happy about it.

“But Maawwwwmmmm these diapers are like, so ugly are you kidding me with these, they make my butt look huge! It’s so ya know, like so not fair."

"I can’t be seen in these … duh!
Gawd it’s like so embarrassing, I feel like such a major freekazoid!

The other day… in nursery… like Sydney was all like… ‘You wear a size 5? Wow I’m like totally still in a 3.’…
Like, O-M-G mom… I just wanted to die, ya know?"

"How would you feel if… like ya know…like all your friends knew you totally wore like them granny panties and stuff?”

What! I so do not wear granny panties! Sheesh.

I'm so ashamed, Help! I think my son might be a pig?

2010-06-29T15:08:00.000-07:00

HELP! I’m a little worried about my youngest son…

This is the condition he left my daughters Barbie in. Do you think I should be concerned? Is this normal behavior? Do I show him too much affection…or not enough affection?

I blame his father…my husband’s a pervert…I think it must be hereditary. Yeah that has got to be it... I feel a little better now.

What do you think she is thinking right now?

Anyone got the number of a good child therapist?

Tall, none fat, sugerfree vanilla, extra hot poopuccino please. Re-run.

2010-06-28T06:00:00.000-07:00

Lazy Monday Repeat, The following post is a re-run, cause I just don't want to think today.

When someone says, “Life is hard,” ask them, “Compared to what?”
~Barbara Johnson

~ ~ ~

When life gives you lemons, make Lemonade… That saying is so lame.
I don’t care much for Lemonade. I’d make some Margaritas and have a few friends over to share them.
What do you make when life throws dog poop* at you?
Make poop smoothies, maybe a poopuccino?

Life has given me more poop then I’d care to admit. Sometimes people have dumped it on me, and sometimes I’ve done it to myself. Then there’s the times I’ve literary had dog poop thrown at me!

Growing up, my little brother Shawn lived to torment me, as most little brothers do, I’m sure.
I clearly recall ridding my red 13 speed home from my BFF’s house when I was 12. My aqua net coated hair flapping in the wind, daydreaming about the awaiting dinner and the crumpled notebook paper in my back pocket. “You are cute, will you Go with me?” the note read. I frantically checked the “YES” box, as if it would cease to exists, only leaving the “NO” box.

THWAP…I was jolted out of my euphoria of “Going with” the cutest boy in sixth grade by a flying Dog turd!
Hit in the chest, there was now a poop smug across my favorite “Boy George” T-shirt. Cringing at the stink I turned my bike up the driveway.
There in the grass, stands my brother falling down laughing. “You are so dead!” I scream slamming my bike down. Shawn reaches for some more ammo….

THWAP! Nailed in the leg, now have poop embedded in the zipper of my parachute pants. “You sick retard!” Still yelling as I dart for the front door. Shawn is going for a third assault.
Then, as if the Gods where looking down on me, Shawn yelps “GROSS, This ones fresh!” Wildly flailing his hands trying to fling brown sticky Dog droppings off .

Now it’s my turn to laugh, or is it? Running straight for me is Shawn’s nasty poop wielding hand. Red faced and splattered with Dog crap…I stomp into the house.

“MOM! Shawn is throwing Dog poop at me again!”

...Nothing…”MOM!”

“(Sigh)…Shawn stop throwing poop at your sister.” My mom calls from the kitchen.

Now this really cracks my brother up…lets be honest…It sounds funny.

“God your such a retard!” I scream in his face.
He rebuts by calling me a “fat pig” and flipping me the bird.

~~~

When life drops a pooper

That’s unkind to our noses,

Use it for fertilizer;

It’s your chance

To grown roses!
-John Richard Allen

~~~

Barbara Johnson says “Pain is inevitable, but misery is optional!”

I don’t like to wear problems around like my dog poop smeared Boy George T-shirt anymore. Lets face it, after a while you start to stink and no one wants to be around you.
I don’t know how to fix most pain on my own, so before I start attracting fly’s I ask for help. Gods got a great pooper scooper in the Holy Spirit.

In letting go of the problem and giving it to God, weather be fresh or old…He sends the Holy Spirit to shower me with hope and Joy, clean again.

…we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts though the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. Romans 5:3-5.

I think I’ll pass on the poopuccino, Thanks anyway.

*I wanted to use the “S” word to ad some spice, but I’m a recovering cussoholic.

How to drive and text on the sly

2010-06-26T21:21:00.000-07:00

Tooling down Main Street with a bag full of Big Macs steaming in the passenger seat, I witnessed a truly tragic thing. The women driving in the car next to me was texting, and not even trying to hide it! The nerve of some people!

Washington has a new “Talk-text-ticket” law, and this lady was in for it…well if the cop I just passed had been paying any attention anyway. How he missed it I have no clue, dang she had her cell right up in front of her face, maybe he was on a break. Wow I felt safe, sheesh…

Then I thought to myself…ha! This would make a great blog post. Dumb lady doesn’t know how to text on the sly. You know texting on the down low, at stop lights and stuff. (oh please, you know you do it...aside from a few honks, it works for me) Funny stuff right? Right? Come on work with me people.

And what would go great with that post would be a photo of this silly nit-wit driving with her phone flipped open in front of her face, tapping away at the keys. It was after all prettying stinking funny!

Digging in my pocket I find my cell after some creative wiggling…hit * ok, to unlock the dog gone thing…get myself right up next to this law breaker…narrowly avoid on coming traffic…stretch out my arm to get a good shot…steady now...Click!

Screeeeeech!

Tell you one thing…she is good! Because she seemed to see the traffic on Main Street slowing before I did.

How to do you spell H-Y-P-O-C-R-I-T-E?

In case you were wondering...the pic didn't turn out ...to blury with all the hard breaking and all. I'm telling ya... it would of been good, youre just going to have to trust me on this one.

Who ME? Bitter?

2010-06-24T17:18:00.000-07:00

Bitterness is an ugly monster that creeps in and wreaks havoc on your soul.

Bitterness is a serious contagious disease, spreading like a weed in an untended garden. Bitterness can also act as a repellent, sending loved ones running, screaming, seeking a reprieve from your bitter venom.

Showing up in many forms, bitterness is dangerous to your physical and mental health. Envy, Jealousy, resentment, hurt, sadness, pain are leading causes of bitterness

Warning signs of bitterness are as follows:
Sudden loss of ones own head
Sour taste in ones mouth
Fuzzy teeth
Sharp tong
Stiff extended middle finger
Foul smelling ears
Potty mouth
Permanent scowl
Cardiac organ shrinkage
Inability to crack a smile
Pains in the ass
Extreme pissy mood
Changes in appearance that make you resemble your own mother
Uncontrollable urge to kick the dog
Constant high pitch whine
Vanishing Friends
Compassion blindness

If you are experiencing one or more of the above symptoms you may be suffering from Bitterness, the following extreme measure must be executed swiftly to prevent your permit eviction from the planet earth.

1. In front of full length mirror remove all your clothes at priestly 10am.
2. Cover entire body with a thick layer of hot fudge
3. Get a firm grip
4. Slowly remove ones head from ones ass
5. Carefully remove foot from mouth
6. Facing mirror Jump up and down quickly to shake of any hard feelings
7. Plant left foot on floor, using right foot swiftly kick yourself in the butt (Repeat)
8. Run out of house, down street screaming "I am free! I am lovable! Someone hug me!"

Warning attempting this act prematurely could cause one to back slide
Resulting in loss of ones grip and shoving ones head further up ones own ass.

Contact your physician if you experience fits of laughter lasting longer then 7 hours.

Blissful babble will not be held liable for any fudge burns resulting from the use of these treatments.

Go Home Creepy Boy

2010-06-22T21:06:00.000-07:00

We have a lost puppy on our block, he’s cute and always wanting our attention. Peering in on me threw my screen door…looking for a scrap of food or a pat on the head.

His name is Brannon and he lives across the street from me…If only he didn’t talk…I’d take him in and give him a forever home…or Not.

As a matter a fact he’s at our front door now, asking for my kids to come out and play. My kids are bathed and ready for bed…

"It’s late honey, he can play tomorrow," I’m telling him…but he stands there and gives me his puppy dog eyes …"but why can’t he play?...please? It’s not to late for me…please.”

“Go Home Brannon!” I find myself yelling louder then I need to.

He stands there…pleading...creeping me out a little.

You know the kid…always running around unsupervised, banging on fences getting the neighbor’s dogs all up in a thither. Wearing the same shirt he had on yesterday, tossing rocks in your yard and running off with your walky-talky.

I can’t help but feel sorry for him; on the other hand he makes me crazy!! I don’t do well with other people’s kids…hell I can barley handle my own.

This little bugger is always freaking me out. I’ll be kicking back on the couch just me, my diet Dr Pepper, and a bag of blue chips, when I get the creepy feeling I’m not alone. And here’s 7 year old Brannon Bates….just standing in the window.

I can’t get away from the kid…go out to check the mail…there he is… “Whatcha doing?”

Go out to the car….there he is… “Where’ya goin?”

Get out of the car…there he is…"where’ve ya been?”

Strange happenings today started just after lunch. The boys were riding bikes and had left garage door open, I found a big Lego mess all over the garage floor…of course I scream at the boys to go pick it up.

“I didn’t do it, He did it” Thing 1 said, pointing at his younger brother.

"NO I DIDN"T! I didn’t do it,” Thing 2 said.

“Oh so all them Lego’s jumped out of the tub all on there own, I don't care who did it …pick them up NOW!!!” I ask sweetly.

Later I find some board games laying about the garage, and best I can recall the kids have been playing in-side.

“I don’t know! I didn’t do it.” Thing 1 says.

“The baby did it!” Thing 2 says.

“What the bloody hell is going on?” I say sweetly.

When I start to get that creepy feeling again… peering around …I see him…there sitting behind us… quietly watching….Yup you guessed it!

"GO HOME BRANNON!"

That nasty fir-ball is at it again!

2010-06-19T17:08:00.000-07:00

I HATE CATS! I hate. Hate. Hate Cats.

Now don’t all you lonely ol’ Cat Ladies go having a hissy fit on me, I’m not looking for a Cat fight here.

We have a cat, and most of the time I am quite fond of him. But when the big orange fuzz ball takes a dump on a pile of laundry, I get pretty pissy. I wish the Dog would just eat him and get it over with.

If it were up to my husband, he would take the cat out to my moms and let the coyotes have at him… But the kids love him…so we put up with the nasty thing.

Whose fault is it that the cat craps and pisses on my laundry you ask? Well that would be my fault, yes EVERYTHING that goes wrong in this house is my fault…and the blame goes to ME! COME ON… Give this girl a hand!

Why is it my fault? Because cleaning the cat box is not on the top of my “to do list,” Hell... it’s not even at the bottom of my “to do list,” more like it's at the Top of my “Don’t want to do list,” just under… cleaning up kid vomit.

For some insane reason my dumb feline will not go in a box that he has already gone in once that day! Sheesh…who does he think he is? Just pee in the dirty box like the rest of the family!

Have you ever smelt cat urine? I mean REALY smelt it! Like pick up a towel off the floor of your kids room (cause that’s where they go) to see if it is clean enough to use again (kids are small, they can use the same towel more than once…hey don’t judge me!) Press your face right into the towel and take a deep smell…..and your friggin’ brain melts out your ears!

Its a smell stright out of the deep dark evil fire pits of Hell! Why must pee smell like that??? Are they eating nuclear waist or just trying to kill off the human race one lazy mom at a time?

Apparently I’m not the great mom I thought I was

2010-06-16T14:40:00.000-07:00

It’s that time of year, the last week of school, when the kids come home loaded down with tons of ~~crap~~ papers.

I found this little Gem in my 1st graders journal, this entry from the first week of school.

It reads...
“I feel sad when my mom gets me in trouble”

Yeah Like I get HIM in trouble…I’m always planting incrementing evidence on him, setting him up to take the fall for the juice stain in the rug.

Is it just me or does it look like I just smacked him upside the head a good one?

Lets take closer look inside the head of my 7 year old...

Sheesh…I get no respect.

WHAT did she just say?!

2010-06-14T20:03:00.000-07:00

You ever have one of them moments…a moment when someone blurts out something truly stupid or downright asinine, then that uncomfortable moment follows when they realize their mistake. You watch as the person tries to dig out of the whole or cover up the dumb ass thing that just flew out of their mouth.

What do you do?

a) Just pretend like you didn’t hear it and let them off the hook?

b) Say nothing, smile politely (turn bright red of embarrassment) and walk away in shock, call up your mom and cry?

c) Let them squirm and enjoy calling them out on the error of their ways?

I tend to do the latter anymore, a few years back I would have been calling my mommy.

Today at the bank with my 5 year old, depositing the husbands pay check, I had this pleasure. The teller, who is in her mid 50’s heavy set and is wearing her hair far too long and about 20 years out of style, strikes up a conversation with my son…that goes something like this.

Teller: Hey kiddo what’s your name?

Kiddo: WHATS THAT SIGN SAY?

Teller: oh that says, please wait here for the next available teller.

Kiddo: SEE MOM, IT DOES NOT SAY, Spinning around this poll will cause brain damage!

Teller: So buddy what is your name?

Kiddo: (hides behind my leg.)

Me: You can tell her Sam, its ok. (DUH!)

Kiddo: My names Sammy and I'm this many…can I have a sucker?

Teller: So Sammy, are you going to have a new baby in your house soon?

Me: (WHAT THE F*CK DID SHE JUST SAY??!! Did she just insinuate I'm expecting!! )

Kiddo: We already have a baby in the house, duh.

Teller: awww…oh you do?

…uncomfortable silence…

Me: (dead pan, waiting for her to start digging)

Teller: did you have a baby sister or baby brother?

Kiddo: a sister…can I have a red sucker?

Me: (Making plans to burn this shirt and do some sit ups when I get home)

Teller: (handing Sam the red sucker and me the receipt) How old is your baby?

Me: She’s Two. (smart ass grin)

Teller: (dropping subject) Bye Sammy it was nice to meet you, have a good day.

Me: Can we have another sucker please …ya'know...for the baby and all?

Teller: (turning red as the sucker) Of course…

Oh the things you find, yes we all just need a little love.

2010-06-09T13:42:00.000-07:00

The following listings are found on Craigslist “missed connections.”

**Cute Little Dog - w4m - 41 (0utside New Seasons - on 33rd)

________________________________________

Date: 2010-06-08, 5:54PM PDT

I was walking in and noticed a little dog tied to the tree outside the side door - little critter seemed scared of the cars and had it's leg all caught up in the orange leach it was on.

As I got up to help it out with it's leash difficulties he or she leaned right in and was the absolute sweetest little beast I've met in ages.

Too bad you aren't a human female...you're just my type!

***Xochiquetzal, who are you? - m4w - 32 (Port Land)

________________________________________

Date: 2010-06-09, 11:12AM PDT

The odds are slim... You posted as Xochiquetzal on Mercury Lovelab, you sound phenomenal, and your photos are captivating (stunning is maybe a better word). In another world we would stalk the moonlit plains together, i think, and our antics would become myth. Maybe in this one? i am what you are looking for. Find me!

*barista - w4m

________________________________________

Date: 2010-06-09, 12:19AM PDT

to all the ladies out there that continue to throw themselves at my incredibly sexy barista boyfriend:

1. thanks for paying my rent, sending me on sex filled vacations, and forking over the cash so that he may utterly spoil me!

2. no matter how excited he seems to be when he sees you, that is how the tips are earned. end of story. Although I'm sure you are amazing.

**you have the type of body i want - m4w - 34 (downtown)

________________________________________

Date: 2010-06-07, 7:54PM PDT

i asked you if you work out or if thats just your natural body. i took your picture . your really hot.

_______________________________________

I say to my husband as I’m reading through some of these adds today..

“Oh my gosh how pathetic are some people… Listen to this! (reading add to him)… .Bwahahahahahahahahahaha (evil judgmental laugh)…
Come on! Man some people need to get life, don’t they have anything better to do?”

He calls me out, “coming from someone sitting in her pj’s at 1:00pm, reading them all.”

Nice.

I wonder were he gets it from? A world of Pixels!

2010-06-08T09:05:00.000-07:00

The following is a guest post by my 12 year old son, I enjoyed this so much I had to share.

A world in pixels!
Let us find out if our unlikely super hero, Bob Mcperson can save the day, or not.

It was an odd day in strangeville (duh) where everyone is a stickman or stickwoman, when Joe was playing video games while his sister, Jill was acting all vain and stuff. Joe wasn’t a fan of her attitude, but he was to interested in his video game.

He finally got to the dragons lair when a shiny light appeared behind him.

Joe said “wow mister! Who are you?”

The light said “I am the great shiny light of cosmetic video gaming doom, but you may call me… GUY!”

There was a long silence. Joe looked back. Then he said “what is that?”

Guy said (with a deep voice) “that’s the money you could be saving with Geico.”

“Oh” Joe finally said. “He is scaring me” so Guy threw it away.

Then Guy said “I’m now going to banish you to your video game!”

“Oh no not the video game!” Joe yelled.

Then Guy started growing bigger, and bigger, and bigger. Pretty soon the entire room was shrouded in light.

Then he was in a white room, nothing in it. But Joe noticed there was small different colored squares popping up everywhere. Soon these squares made a big picture. He then realized these were the pictures in his video game.

He was in the video game! He looked at his arm, it was also made of the pixels of this mysterious world.

He then did what any one in trouble would, eat a glass of water, it was the way to call Bob Mcperson!

Soon Bob thrusted into the video game with Joe.

“Quick! said Joe, A weird light named Guy banished me to my video game! And forced me to watch educational television!”

Bob Mcperson gasped and yelled “educational television nnoooooooo!”

Then Joe said “we don’t really have to worry! Level one is candy land! This level is always easy!”

So the two odd stickmen set off on their journey, and had to battle gumdrop warriors. Then as they came to the level boss, it was a giant candy cane, and he has a tv with only channels of educational television!

Bob screamed like a little girl. EEEEEeeeeeeee!

But he then pulled out his favorite mussel yum energy bar (with extra fiber!) and ate it.

“I have solved my hunger problem” Bob Mcperson said with a burp.

Joe then said “now is not the time for eating! This is the only part of level one that is actually hard!”

“Mmmm eating” Bob said dreamily. “Wait… EATING!” Bob realized that the giant singing candy cane with educational television was a candy cane! Bob lunged forward and grabbed the candy cane! Then he licked it.

“MMMM, peppermint!” he murmured dreamily as he licked. Then the candy cane turned white and melted into a puddle! Bob and Joe cheered! Then Bob said “now, how many levels are left?”

“1024!” Joe replied.

“Nnooooooo!” Bob cried!

THE END? ß

Praying for Kyron, missing 7 year old boy.

2010-06-07T15:22:00.000-07:00

I had a silly post all rolling around in my head for today; however I can’t get this missing 7 year old boy off my mind. The whole thing has made me sick to my stomach.

You can read Kyron’s story here if you have not already seen it on the news or the "Today show".

His story hits home with me in so many ways, I just want to puke.

Not only did this happen locally... but I have a 7 year old 2nd grader who some freak tried to nab at the post office when he was 2. (that’s a whole other story) Let’s just say if I ever saw that women they would have to scrap her remains off the street with a spoon.

Then there was the time my son didn't get off the school bus, what a horrid experince.

When my oldest son was in 2nd grade (what’s with these 2nd graders?) I stood waiting on the corner as the bus unloaded its kids and my son was not one of them.

After calling the school and then 911 I raced up to the school frantic with horrific thoughts going through my head.

Seeing dozens of police cruisers buzzing around knowing they were looking for my son is a sickening feeling to say the least.

It was 45 min before a bus driver called in to say she had picked him up walking home in the deep drainage ditch. The longest 45 min of my fricking life!

He was scared, scrapped up and bleeding from the ordeal but in one piece, I never cried so hard in front of so many people. Then I spent the next 20 min screaming at the teachers and school staff for not seeing a 7 year old boy wander off the school campus, not pretty.

The pain this family must be going thought is...gawd I can't even think of a word...I just pray they find him.

Over the weekend I’ve talked to my kids about Kyron, and going over again safety rules and stranger danger, stressing the importance of being smart. We continue to pray for Kyron's safe and speedy return to his family.

Photos Kyron Horman, Missing 7 year old ~ Please keep him in your prayers~

Cleaning Tips from the Messy~Just don't do it.

2010-06-04T08:00:00.000-07:00

I hate. Hate. Hate. to recycle, not cause I’m a bad person, mostly I’m lazy and don’t want to clean out the cans/jars/jugs/tubs and break down boxes.

Reduce. Reuse. Recycle. Really?
Sheesh I’ve got enough to do, now I’ve gotta save the planet!

Now before all you tree- hugging Go-Greene’s send me Hate mail about how I’m defiling Mother earth an all…hold on.

I DO Recycle, It's just not my favorit thing to do…and truth be told, sometimes I cheat.
(Oh come on, doesn’t everybody?)

Today as I turn to toss the empty Peanut butter Jar/Tub/thingy in the trash (for shame) I hear the voice of my friend Megan in my head.

You can recycle that!

Seeing that Megan tried to tackle me to the ground when she once caught me innocently tossing out an empty tub of salsa, I’d better recycle it. (guilt guilt)

We use a lot of peanut butter in my house. And not just in pb&j, we make banana dogs by putting PB on a hotdog bun with a banana, toping it with honey…yummy.

Or my famous PB apple, core out ½ an apple and fill the hole with PB…well you get the idea.

All them dang PB jars are the WORST to clean out, it’s not like you can just rinse them and be done, it’s an ordeal, PB get slimy when mixed with water...it’s just yucky…I don’t do slimy.

Then I got a brilliant Idea!!

If you don't want to do it yourself....Make the Dog do it!

Dogs love Peanut butter right? I put it in his toys and he cleans them out.

Wow I’m so smart, Problem solved!

He even got all the way down to the bottom, now thats clean!

Now if I could just get him to do that to the toilet!

Smile Stupid!

2010-06-02T14:58:00.000-07:00

A smile is the light in the window of your face that tells people you're at home. ~Author Unknown

There is a reason there are so many quoits about “a Smile”

A smile costs nothing but gives much. It enriches those who receive without making poorer those who give. It takes but a moment, but the memory of it sometimes lasts forever. None is so rich or mighty that he cannot get along without it and none is so poor that he cannot be made rich by it. Yet a smile cannot be bought, begged, borrowed, or stolen, for it is something that is of no value to anyone until it is given away. Some people are too tired to give you a smile. Give them one of yours, as none needs a smile so much as he who has no more to give. ~Author Unknown

5th grade

Growing up I had messed up teeth and hated them, my front teeth were huge *think horse.* I had what you would call a cross bite, but I just called it fangs! I often would fanaticize about being a vampire and if I sharpened them up a bit I could suck your blood.

Being that I was a blood sucking vampire horse, I didn’t smile. I made great effort to not show my teeth, even to the point of covering my mouth when I laughed.

The tight lip smile

With all my Fat and Fang issues I came across as cold and bitchy to those around me, making me more Vampireish….tho I don’t see many Fat Vamps.

(Right about now my Mom and my dear BFF Tanya are screaming at their computer…"SHUT UP YOU WERENT FAT"!!! But it’s my Blog and my Body image issues, so bite me. )

The High School "Non smile"

It took until I was out of high school and almost 20 years old for my parents to get me some much needed braces. My parents must have hated me to make me go thought high school with a fat fang face, or they just never wanted me to date.

Even after the braces came off I still had a hard time cracking a smile at anyone. I was so conditioned to hide my teeth I had to relearn that expression.

The day the braces came off with my braces Dr., I look stoned.

At some point in my life I did figure out that a simple smile made me a warmer person, more likeable, approachable. I didn’t enjoy being perceived as a hard ass, bitches need friends too.

I did an experiment…When out shopping I would smile at everyone I made eye contact with. I still do this today, well when I’m not in a completely pissy mood that is.

It is kind of cool to see who will smile back and who will look at you like you’re a nut case.

Men almost always smile back, if it’s an older man I may even get a wink or “Hello.”

If he looks confused he may asked were the Salt is.

You do have to be careful, once a guy asked me if I could give him a few bucks. “Dude I’m not your mom.”

Women, on the other hand, smile back a lot less. Mostly they will look away quick, trying to pretend they didn’t see me smiling at them, Snobs.

This also depends on the age, women my age with kids in the cart are more likely to give me a knowing smile, saying my kids are making me crazy too let’s park em in the cookies and go get a drink.

Then the older ladies will stop and talk to my daughter…”oh she’s so cute, how old she is”…always followed with a story of how her daughter would scream in the store too, or how they grow up so fast, before I know it I’ll be paying for her wedding.

Wedding...Naw…I’m just never going to get her braces.

It is said that 55% of communication comes from nonverbal cues, such as facial expression and gestures.

So I’m thinking that there is a lot more meaning in a smile then I ever thought.

Think about that the next time you are rushing around with lots on your mind, slap on a smile and the whole world gets a little warmer. Plus it makes people wonder what you've been up to.

Everytime you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing. ~Mother Teresa

A friendly look, a kindly smile, one good act, and life's worthwhile. ~Author Unknown

A kind heart is a fountain of gladness, making everything in its vicinity freshen into smiles. ~Washington Irving

Beauty is power; a smile is its sword. ~Charles Reade

If you don't have a smile, I'll give you one of mine. ~Author Unknown

I've never seen a smiling face that was not beautiful. ~Author Unknown

Wear a smile and have friends; wear a scowl and have wrinkles. ~George Eliot

Always remember to be happy because you never know who's falling in love with your smile. ~Author Unknown

Smile Stupid ~

The Magic Liar of Dragons

2010-05-27T15:50:00.000-07:00

I’m a big fat liar, so sue me. I lie to my kids, who doesn’t? Right? When they ask questions you just don’t want to deal with.

I don’t fear the “SEX” questions, they know all that stuff. I however fear the “did you smoke pot” question…I’ll be lying then too.

Today the question came up while talking about my 7 year old's middle name. When I was prego with Jonah, my oldest which was 4 at the time, wanted to name him Dragon.

Well Jonah Dragon was not what we went with, and Jonah now thinks that Dragon is a much better middle name.

He's pretty much thinking he got screwed and at 7 knows having the name Dragon would make him the coolest kid in 2nd grade.

Naturally he now wants to know where we got his middle name, since his parents must be giant morons not to see that his big brother had a much better idea.

“We named you after my brother.” I inform him.

BUT that’s not enough…he starts the interrogation.

“You don’t have a brother.”

*Major attitude here*

“I did have a brother.”

“Well, where is he?”

*Challenging me*

“He died before you were born.”

*Thinking this hard fact would shut him up…but he’s not falling for it*

“Oh yeah, how did he die then?”

*Like I’m making this all up!*

“They think he died of hyperthermia. Did you get your homework started like I asked?”

*Trying to be vague and use big words to confuse and change subject*

“What’s hyper-term-pee?”

*HA! He’s confused!*

“It’s a medical condition like cancer, now get your back pack please you have a game tonight.”

*Paints on Fire*

“Awwww MOM I don’t waaaannnnnaaaa go to baseball!.”

*SCORE*

I loved my brother very much, for many years it was just me and him against the world. I wanted to honor his memory by giving our 2nd born his name.

I miss him all the time, but I’ll be honest, my brother had a hard life and made lot of bad choices that most likely lead to his death. How do you explain this to a 7 year old? One day I will, but not just before baseball.

Photos Bing Image

Blame it ALL on this piss poor Weather!

2010-05-26T09:26:00.000-07:00

Hey did y’all see the weather map this morning? Pretty nice eh? Don’t ya just love spring?

Well do ya see all that blue in the upper left, that’s me. See me waving; I am, waving franticly there in Washington State, look close right there under the big 51. Yup, that’s me waving the bird at the other half of the map.

When the sun fails to come out of the clouds, my 12 year old fails to get out of bed and miss’ the bus.

So in the down pour I am forced to drive his butt to school, oh Joy.

Saying a small prayer I don’t get pulled over racing off to the middle school. Heck any cop that saw me would just feel sorry for me and let me off, seeing me all disheveled and braless in my P.J.s.

Now most middle school kids would be horrified to be seen with their mom in this condition, a fate worse than death. Not with my kid, he don’t care, He thinks I’m a laugh a minute.

If you have ever had the pleasure of braving the parking lot of a school, you understand the mass panic to quickly shove your kid out the door and drive off to avoid ticking off the frantic line of parents trying to do the same.

But of course nothing comes easy for me.

“Ok get ready, as soon as I stop jump out.” I instruct my son.

As my 120lb 5 foot 4” 12 year old bolts from the car he yanks his 500lb back pack off the floor of the van, causing an avalanche of crap to spill out after it. Discarded Starbuck cups, Zhu Zhu pet packaging and other such trash spill out on to the ground.

My son stands there looking at it baffled, “just pick it up and toss it back in the car!” I scream over the pelting showers, glancing over my shoulder at the waiting traffic jam behind me. No way in Hell am I getting out of this van!

At first I think he is crying as he chucks the run-a-way trash back in the van. Oh God I’ve traumatized him for life! Here he is humiliated in front of his class mates, his mother with her wild bed head hair and trashed out van. How will he ever live this down? I’ll have to pay for years of therapy! I just want to pull him back in the car and home school him until collage.

Turns out he is cracking up…rain running down his face. He thinks the whole thing is funny, that’s my boy…he’s just like his mom. Thank God because I could never home school and can’t afford the therapy.

I blow him a kiss, yell “Love you kid,” crank the wheel, run over the forgotten Starbucks cup and speed off…almost sideswiping the jack ass who tried to sneak around me.

I hate this weather!

Painting over the Messy

2010-05-25T16:06:00.000-07:00

I have some major faults, not being a very organized person nor having the strongest drive for neatness to name a few. Like my friend says…I’m a messy, normally I’d take great offence to being called a messy, but she is one to…so I’ll let it slide. Plus it’s the truth, what can I say.

I beat myself up all the time, I just never seem to be enough…

I’m Messy, but not messy enough to make it on “Clean House.”

I’m Fat, but not fat enough to make it on “The Biggest Loser.”

I’m not the best parent, but not bad enough to get on “Super Nanny.”

I’m on my own.

So to make me feel better, I’m going to paint. 5 years of baby gates, kids and neglect have turned my walls nasty. Not the best color for a home.

Here’s the problem though, my husband is thrifty.

I came home with some paint samples and hubby starts in with…

“Are all them paint swatches free?”

“Where are you getting the money for the paint?”

“We have all that paint in the garage, just use that up.” (from 5 years ago!!)

See what I mean… ~~cheep redneck~~ thrifty.

It makes me feel better that I’m not the only one dealing with a thrifty hubby; I’ve read about another blogging Michelle, she has some of the same issues.

Knowing my hubby, I was one step ahead of him…see honey I’m going to sell some of ~~our old crap~~ our lightly used things at a yard sale and use that money on home improvements.

Or maybe I could just get enough free paint swatches to cover the walls?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to get all down on my hubby; he did try and be helpful with this other suggestion.

“How a bout using that 5 gal bucket of left over exterior trim paint to paint the living room, you picked out that color.”

Naw...thanks tho. How a bout ...

lets just sell the paint at the ~~crap~~ yard sale....

or I could use all the paint to lift and burn off some fat...

or I could just beat the kids with it when they write on the walls??

What?!...Bad idea?

The Mom Song...seen it...watch it again.

2010-05-24T14:20:00.000-07:00

Mommy's Law

2010-05-21T23:12:00.000-07:00

You’ve heard of Murphy’s Law, well this is Mommy’s Law:

If you sit down the phone will ring.

If the kids need money for school, they will only remember as the bus roll up the block.

If you stop to hug your Husband the dinner will burn.

The chance of the juice staining is directly proportional to the cost of the carpet.

Tell a child there is a tooth fairy he'll believe you. Tell him something stinks he’ll have to smell it to be sure.

If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously had too much wine.

If there is an elephant in the room, your kid will surely point it out.

The busier the restaurant the louder your toddler screams.

The more effort put into cooking dinner, the less your kids will eat of it.

If there is a worse time for a dirty diaper, it will happen then.

Money can’t buy love, but it sure doesn’t hurt the mood.

If you take a shower, your kids will figure paint with peanut butter and BBQ sauce.

If you can’t blame the kids…blame the Dog.

If you take off your bra the door bell will ring.

Life's lessons learned the hard way...Men are EASY when you're SLEAZY.

2010-05-17T14:03:00.000-07:00

Men are easy, Women make them crazy.

WARNING: The following post contains some sexually awwwummm…stuff and is meant for married adults only. Also my Mom, Dad, Pastor and Husband are forbidden to read any further.

If I want to make my husband happy all I need to do is feed him and take off my pants (well not at the same time…although he would enjoy that), then he is putty my hands.

Simple…men are simple.

Unless your husband is a narcissistic abusive psychopath, then you’re crazy for staying with him. I’ve dated my share of them…run honey, RUN!

We women make men unnecessarily crazy with all our bicthin’ and naggin’.

“What about me…my needs, I’m tired, the kids take all I have! Why must I give give give to HIM too?”

I’ll tell you why, cause once you take care of his “Horney & Hungry”, He’ll take care of all your massive amounts of womanly needs. Pretty sweet deal…ask any man… he’ll tell you I’m right.

Case in point:

The arrival of my Verizon bill would turn my husband into a gigantic ass and me into a massive Bitch. Oh it was on…every month…month after month!

With his resent cut backs at work and us being a one income family with four kids, a cell phone was an unnecessary expense and HE was NOT going to pay it.

So I’d bitch and nag and with hold sex until he paid up. He’d be a hard ass jerk until he couldn’t take anymore of my shit.

One day, being on the verge of getting my phone shut off, I made him a special offer…an offer no man can refuse. I told him that if he paid the bill I’d give him a B.J. Yep.

I am a bit of a B.J. snob and deprived him of this treat…so He was all up on that deal!

After that, whenever the Verizon bill turned up in the mail box my husband would walk in the house with a big ol' grin on his face waving the bill in the air, declaring…

”Honey, it’s time to pay your cell phone bill!”

Over the years ….this “Special offer” has bought me a Large capacity washer/dryer, Range and over the Range Microwave to name a few.

Pretty sweet deal!

HEY YOU! Get that OLD MAN off, your stinking up the place!

2010-05-13T14:48:00.000-07:00

If I was your mother I’d smack you right up side your pretty little head!

“Get that nasty OLD MAN off right now! He’s stinks like crap and is weighing you down.”

As christens we carry around our OLD MAN on our back, not wanting to let go, what a lame thing to do. We are spiting in the face of Jesus, the Dude hung on the cross for us to lose this OLD MAN.

What do we do?? We hang on to him like our skinny jeans, just face it sweetpea, the jeans will never fit the same again, and neither is the OLD MAN.

(SIDE NOTE: if you don’t know Jesus and have yet to give your heart to him…then you better get on it honey, times a wasting. I’m not going to hold your hand …there’s no “Jesus loves you” babble here.

And I am sure the hell not going to hold your hair back as you keep vomiting up the things of this world. Maybe you could find one of them sweet “Christian love spewing mommy” blogs to help you with that. But I’m not one of them.)

You see that OLD MAN on your back... it is dead! How sick are we to carry around a dead old man on our back….*gaggin*

He’s Dead! Dead! Dead! Gross! Gross! gross!

He’s rotting, beating you down, and stinks like HELL, get him off!! NOW For Christ sake!

What the eff am I talking about?? Don’t know?? It’s the old sin we keep revisiting, the old shame and past we can’t seem to let go of.

Honey, I know believe me, I do it all the time. Beating myself up over crap I did in the past, for mistakes, bad judgments, SIN, SIN, SIN.

It’s not pretty, this rotting corps on my back, he keeps whispering shit in my ear. However it’s my choice to keep him, Jesus is not going to rip him off my back and bury him in the back yard. He’s already killed the guy for us…what more do we need.

Romans 6:4-6 tells us that when Jesus died on the cross (we all know the story right…we don’t celebrate Easter for that dam bunny after all, but I do love me some chocolate mini eggs) [4] we were buried with Him and Just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we walk in newness of life.

[6] “Knowing this, that our OLD MAN was CRUSIFIED with HIM, that the body of sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves of sin.

I shit you not, that’s what it says…read it for yourself.

Romans 6:7-11 goes on to tell us that we are no longer ruled by the power of our past Sin…that sin is dead…our OLD MAN is Dead. The Grace of God has defeated all the past crap in our lives. Our sin has been deprived of it's power over us.

We are no longer slaves of our past sin, it is dead, but we carry the stinky shit on our backs every day! It’s sure not because it feels good! WTF?

Now check this bad boy out. (Didn’t think you were going to get a fricking bible study today did ya...HA!)

Romans 6:12-14 Tells us WE must consider ourselves DEAD to SIN but Alive in God, However we have a continual choice day after day whether to yield to our sin or to God.

What the heck did you think God sent Jesus down here to do… well it wasn’t so you could have a sparkly “Holiday Tree” now was it. Wake up women…we are Free from this nasty garbage.

Need more smack down? Well Colossians 3 tell us to put our mind on things above, not on things of the earth, we have put off the OLD MAN with his deeds. And have put on the new man. We are renewed.

I do not lie, there is much more but I can’t do this all for you. Dust off your Bible or better yet go buy yourself a new one…they have some pretty pink ones, and study this stuff yourself. I’m not your mother after all!

Oh for the Love of GOD… go and get that nasty Stinky rotting corpse off your back and take a deep breath of Life…

Smells good don’t it.

Snotty snarky selfishness.. Don't think with your dink kids.

2010-05-12T17:03:00.000-07:00

We interrupt this Blissful Babble for some Serious Snark… we will return to our normally scheduled Blissfulness when the babbler gets some dang sleep.

I’m feeling snarky today, maybe I’m on the rag or it’s just the fact I’ve been fighting a bug. But I’ve really just had it with selfish parents.

Oh sure I’m selfish when I chose to sit here and bang on my computer instead of playing with My 5 year old.

Selfish when I fall asleep on the couch instead of feeding my kids breakfast, only to wake with a jolt when the 2 year old clocks me a good one with her tippy cup. (In my defense I’m sick! Awesome now my head hurts worse.)

SO my rant today…

I really struggle with how we honor others before our own kids, well struggle is the wrong word... I think It sucks big snot balls.

I try and keep my big mouth shut, and sometimes I even can keep my big mouth shut…WHAT I CAN!

Like when I saw a friend’s “face book relationship stats” change that he was dating that dumb chick again...

I kept my big mouth shut…no sarcastic jabs about how he was so “Done with her games and drama he’d never go back." I made no criticisms, or snotty snark, no “well lets just see how long it lasts this time.”

Even when his face book stats changed to “Engaged” I still said NOTHING. See I can behave myself.

What I really want to say is…WTF are you thinking?? Thinking with your dink again are we?

She wants him to move hours away from his kids, so they can be together. However she won't think of up rooting her kids for him?

SELFISH on her part to even ask him to do that, but what does she care, she gets what she wants.

As long as its all in the name of LOVE, its all good, Right?

He didn’t want to move, but is now? Why, to shut her the eff up?
So now his kids get to visit him, where HER kids live full time. Oh goody! So super awesome for them!

SELFISH on his part, why will he honor her and her kids before his own flesh and blood?

What? Does she have his balls in a vice? Why would you go against what you know is right, dishonor yourself and your kids, for what, a piece of tail?

Oh yes...Love rules over all good sence. I remember them days, God I was such a dumb ass.

Do his kids have a say….NO.

Yes... it’s his life, he should be happy.

BUT... isn’t it his children’s life as well?

No…I have no control over any of it, all I can do is be very sad for his kids.

What I’d like to do is slap some sense into him….but if he is thinking with his dink…it won’t help.

I just pray that their marriage will be one of the 20% of mix families that make it…them and the “Brady bunch.” Good luck with that pal.

Love from, the Snarky Snot.

JESUS...I wish this guy would just stop calling me!

2010-05-07T06:00:00.000-07:00

Brrringggg… Brrrringgggg… “Hello?... hello?
Oh aww Hey God, What’s up?

Yes, I got the beautiful flowers; they are blooming all over the back yard…and the butterflies…that’s a nice touch.

Yes, the kids are great…healthy…I could use some help with the back talk though.

Umm…Well I don’t know… guess I could do that….

Oh Wha-Wha-What did you say?

Oh, you're breaking up on me…

Sorry, I cannot hear you,

I'm kinda busy.”

Man why does this guy keep calling me!?

I know I have Peace in his Promise…but I’m kinda busy.

I know I have Hope in His Word…but I have laundry.

I know I have Life in His Name… but Gray’s is on tonight.

I know I have Forgiveness in His Grace…but I’m kinda spent.

I don’t want to deal to the Big Guy... When life is so busy.

I know I said I’d spread your word…but I don’t.

I know I said I’d serve…but I won’t.

I’m just too dam busy… I’d rather just not hear….so I don’t.

I’ll call him when I need something DAMIT!

Like Lady Gaga & Beyonce Sing …

Stop telephoning me …I’m busy.

Stop callin', stop callin',

I don't wanna think anymore!

I left my hand and my heart on the dance floor.

Stop callin', stop callin',

I don't wanna talk anymore!

We're sorry… the number you have reached is not in service at this time.

Please check the number, or try your call again....

Where did you leave your heart?

Ya know whats fun?

2010-05-05T15:16:00.000-07:00

Ya know whats fun to do?

*Ground your 12 year old from his laptop, then blog on it right in front of him.

* Leave a bucket of hot soapy water and a mop in the middle of the kitchen and forbid your 7 year old to touch it! (resulting in a clean kitchen floor a washed Dog)

*Wink at the bag boy when your one year old calls him "daddy."

*Send your husband a "Sext" message in Church.

*Stand really close behind that annoyed looking old guy in the bank and not correct your 5 year old when he pulls on the back of his coat.

I have more but my 12 year old keeps asking what he's grounded for...and I really can't think of anything right now.

I'd love to hear how you have fun just for fun's sake.

Unexpected Baggage…Free pet!

2010-04-28T05:42:00.000-07:00

I have a pet I’d like to get rid of…to tell you the truth I’d love to see it gone forever, never to return. I know that sounds so bad, mostly I’m a lover of all pets, however I just really dislike…ok… Hate her.

There is very little to like about her. Well I guess she is soft and warm, she goes with me everywhere. When I lay down in bed... she lies next to me, and when I relax on the couch... she sits on my lap. I can even rest my ice cream bowl on her…she don’t mind because she LOVES ice cream.

But then mostly she just drive me crazy, like whenever I bend over to tie my shoes or pick up toys…there she is…always in my way.

I’ve had her for what seems like forever; she’s been with me since the birth of my first son. So it’s been 12 years now and its just time to let her go! She can really be quite a pain!

The other day I was out at the store buying some snacks, (one of her favorites) I was in one of them “self check-outs” do-hickys when I lean over to put my money in the money eating thingy, what a shock to hear the dang thing yelling at me!

“THERE IS AN UNEXPECTED ITEM IN THE BAGGING AREA”

What the….I got nothing "extra."

I look down at the “bagging area”…and there she is, my pet, resting herself on top of the arm of the bag holder thing-a-ma-jig.

My pet…AKA…My belly, was the “unexpected item” the "EXTRA".... just sitting there looking back up at me, I could tell what she was thinking.

“What! Just get the snacks and let’s go already, I’m hungry.”

That's right my belly…and hell Yes it’s an unexpected item! I didn’t expect all this extra “Baggage” when I had babies.

But I have to tell you one thing, she sure has been one faithful loyal pet!

Hey Sister! Get your groove back girlfriend.

2010-04-26T15:23:00.000-07:00

Women are never stronger than when they arm themselves with their weakness. ~Marie de Vichy-Chamrond, Marquise du Deffand, Letters to Voltaire

What I learned at the 2010 Spring Women’s retreat.
“You - More then you think”

I learned that I really really missed my bed.

I learned 22 Women + 4 bathrooms = Shower Rage.

I learned if you’re the first one up in the morning, you’d better have started the coffee or there’s going to be hell.

I learned that the Pastors sister in-law is not apposed to flashing people, or mooning them for that matter.

I learned I may never be able to make eye contact with some of the lady's husbands again, not without cracking up anyway.

I learned the Church secretary is NOT a morning person.

I learned that the Pastors daughter can shake her "groove thing" like she’s on Fire.

I learned that very little sleep and a house full of estrogen makes me a cry baby.

I learned tears can be contagious and healing at the same time.

I learned that laughter is better then wine.

I learned that when I start opening my heart to other Women, I end up with Sisters.

I learned that even the most “Put together” and strong women can feel weak and scared at times too.

I learned I am not alone in having sobbed in the shower when life feels out of control.

I learned that even though I’m ruff around the edges, Fat and Sassy, I have something wonderful to offer.

I learned that God is doing amazing things in my life, all I have to do is be open to it and He’ll take care of the rest.

I learned this was not all about me getting closer to God…Its all about letting Him get closer to me.

And when I got home from the retreat:

I learned my husband knows I matter more then he thought after leaving him for an ENTIRE weekend with four kids, the cat and the Dog.

I learned that the House didn’t fall apart without me.

I learned the most excited one to see me home was the Dog.

I learned that nothing had changed not even the kids, they were even all still in the same outfits I had left them in.

OK maybe one thing had changed…one very small surprising thing…me.

When we can't piece together the puzzle of our own lives, remember the best view of a puzzle is from above. Let Him help put you together. ~Terri Guillemets

I Rock! I make a difference, or do I?

2010-04-20T15:53:00.000-07:00

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around. ~Leo Buscaglia

I so rock, and rock hard! In my own head I am even more phenomenal then Twilight, even my kids think so.

See this photo of Edward and Bella?

Whatever Bella, been there! Done that!

This photo of my husband and I was taken in the very spot Edward and Bella stood; only we did it years before them.
See How I rock?!

I love this photo of us, and it would have never happened if that nice man…whoever he was…had not stopped to offer to take it. A small act of kindness I'll never forget.

Well, ok I’m a big liar; I don’t rock, most of the time I think I suck. Not the Edward kind of Suck just the lame ol kind.

It’s actually a major problem I have.

I don’t see the good things about myself. The Differance I make everyday.

Do you see the Good in yourself??....The differance you make every day?

I don’t see that I make a difference, and I don’t take complements well. When someone shares with me that they think I make a difference, I get a real funny feeling on the inside and it makes me all uncomfortable and goofy. "Naw, whatever... nothing big." Always making less of myself.

Where I fail big time, is seeing the little things I do every day that make a difference to others. I always wish I could do more, I'm not doing all I can.

I use to wonder why I’m not rich, why didn’t God bless me with tons of money. I want to help everyone that needs it. But we just don’t have the money to help anyone but ourselves.

God is showing me... that showing love, kindness, or just telling someone you care, is just as important as making a huge difference to millions.

Just being there for someone makes more of a difference then what money can buy them.

Here is Conan doing stand up and bringing Joy to thousands!

Here I am *Scary resemblance I know* last summer, telling a story at my cousin’s wedding, “the tick was this big.” Bringing, what I hope was just a little Joy to her.

She did tell me later it meant a lot to her that I told that story. I told her I hate that she put that nasty photo of me on Facebook!

Love you Kell.

Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see. ~Mark Twain

Life's lessons learned the hard way...Get a BackBone

2010-04-12T16:21:00.000-07:00

This post brought to you by your backbone.

Do you say what you feel, mean, want?

Or do you say what people want to hear?

Don’t want to rock the boat?

Don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings?

Are you a, go with the flow, yes man?

Don’t want to cause problems, People pleaser?

Are you?...whoever you are?

I did... I was...I let people walk all over me…worried they would be mad, not like me…didn't want to stand out, or up...blah blah blah…I was a people pleasing Sissy la la!

Now being a mother of 4 and on the down side of 30 I don’t take as much crap as I use to. I'm a much kinder person now...Huh?... go figure.

Sometimes being popular is not always right, and what’s right isn’t always popular. Not everyone likes you…just face it. If you want to be understood, say what you mean.

Not saying what you feel, mean, want, or not standing up for what you know is right, you are giving a false impression of who you are. If you don’t respect yourself enough to let people really know who you are, how are they ever going to respect you?

If you challenge nothing, never give anyone grief, and don’t express who you really are, you bring out the worst in people. Hiding under the façade of being a pleaser, allowing them to walk all over you sucking your blood dry.

Then what do we do when people take advantage of us? We Bitch…you know you do…bitch about them to anyone who will listen.
What kind of evil person to take advantage of such a giving selfless person as yourself.
How dare they!
Playing the victim are we?

We are such martyrs! Creating the Monster then crying and bitching when the Monsters Bites!

How many times do you give money to the one who can’t budget?

How many times must that boy at the play date bite your kid before you stop going?

How many years do you waste on that guy (gal) that treats you like garbage?

How long will you let them bash your friend before speaking up?

How many times will you say Yes, when you really want to say No.

How many times will you listen to them bitch about being a poor victim before you Tell them to get a backbone?

How many? Just give me a number.

the dog ate my bra

2010-04-10T14:00:00.000-07:00

You start out happy that you have no hips or boobs. All of a sudden you get them, and it feels sloppy. Then just when you start liking them, they start drooping. ~Cindy Crawford

I hate it when I can't find my bra! By the end of the day I’m dying to fling it off, don't care were it lands, I just want the girls free.

Until the next morning when I can’t find it, it’s crazy making. Boobs flopping around all morning as I’m trying to get the boys off to school. Sit down to have a cup of coffee and my boobs squish themselves in the crook of my arms. So every time I take a sip of coffee I pinch my own nipple.

Being strapped for cash all the time, bras are not on the top of my list. Truly I need to keep better track of my bras, having only having 3.

The back up, brown beat up bra, it’s lost its underwire. The all purpose, white (more like dirty white and currently MIA) it’s straps fall down all the time. And the sexy mama, pretty salmon push up, my husband’s favorite.

I have know idea where it could be, bras have ended up all over the house! I’ve tossed my bras on the couch, only to find my 7 year old walking around with it on his head, sing "I'm a booby head!" Tossed em over the banister, that one met a tragic fate when the Dog chewed it up. RIP pink floral bra.

Better get looking for old faithful "all purpose bra." I would hate to have to wear "sexy bra" and fight off the hubby all day. Plus all this typing could cause some serious chaffing.

It’s a day of doing laundry.

A normal daily chore.

Washing, folding, put-a-way

And picking up the floor.

My toddler’s running all about,

A ribbon in her hair.

Wearing the cutest little dress

With fashion and with flair.

I venture to the dryer

To switch another batch.

My mouth drops open wide

When I open up the hatch.

The one bra I have left to wear

That’s nearly a decade old.

Looks like it’s been rolled around

In some yucky, greenish mold.

Somehow it got sorted in

With all my darks and blues

And now is spotted pink and green

Like smelly bowling shoes.

I just want to sit and sob

When my toddler saunters in

Dressed in too-pricey clothing

And an I-know-I’m-cute grin.

And I realize, right then and there,

How mothering’s meant to be.

So I’ll wear my ugly, tie-dyed bra.

‘Cause it’s no longer just about me.

-Angie Barr

Sandy's smile: a look at drunk driving, through the eyes of a child

2010-04-08T10:22:00.000-07:00

My mother’s face looked strange to me. Her normally flawless skin was blotchy, her hazel eyes now rimed in red. Had she been crying? That too was strange. To my 7 year old self my mom was ageless…strong…safe. But now…now she looked almost weak…older…and it scared the hell out of me.

She had called us to the front porch, needed to talk to us, needed to tell us something. Something. She drew a deep breath blew it out, then another. A chill ran down my back, was it the October air or something?

I stood…waited… fidgeted in my boots and scratched at an old scab on my arm, watching with intent as it bled. Not wanting to look at my mom…weak…older.

“What Mom!” My brother shouts impatient, wanting to get back to his Big-wheel and our leaf pile. He’s stomping up and down the paint chipped porch steps that my mom sat on. Mom sat there…just sat there, a blue bandana holding back her blond curly hair…the same golden hair that sat atop my brother Shawn’s head.

Mom looked up and met my own hazel eyes…opened her mouth to speak then closed it in what could only be an attempt to stop her chin from quivering and swallow the pain lumped up in her throat… She dropped her head looking at her hands and the mass of used tissues balled up with-in them.

I looked at my own hands, picking at a hang nail, blood drying on my finger, the blood turning from red to brown blending in with the dirt. I can’t look at her…my heart pounds.

Shawn stumbles on the last step, trips up on a small pumpkin that had appeared on our door step, he and the pumpkin go sprawling onto the cold concrete. In one sweeping move, the kind only mothers can do, mom scoops him up and plops his 5 year old butt on the step next to her. “Didn’t hurt,” Shawn declares eyeing the tipped gored.

The distraction seems to give her the strength, the resolve to speak. Again she looks at me, standing in front of her, in my grubby jeans and floral sweat shirt.

“Last night your Aunt Sandy was in an accident,” she says. This time I don’t look away…can’t, but mom seems to be looking though me at some point behind me. To steel herself? Holding on?

My 7 year old brain sees Sandy falling down the dark basement stairs or flying over the handle bars of a bike, visions taken from my own fears. I see Sandy in the hospital with her arm in a cast…I’m thinking of what I will write on her cast, “You’re my favorite aunt, get well soon, I love you.”

Mom’s head has drops back to her chest…older…holding on… deep breath.

“A very bad car accident, Sandy was hurt very bad and didn’t make it…she’s gone,” her voice cracks on the word gone.

“Gone where?” Shawn asks, picking green paint chips off the step. “To the doctors?”

“No honey,” Mom says putting her arm around him, releasing a mangled tissue that drops to her feet. “She has gone to heaven, Sandy was in the back seat when the car hit a tree and she died.”

Unaware that I’ve stuck the lock of hair I’d been twirling with my finger into my mouth and was now twirling it around my tong. Sandy always told me I’d choke on a hair ball someday. I looked around for a car crashed into a tree, I saw none…fear…holding on. I look to the sky for heaven, I saw nothing. Gone.

“Sandy died? What’s that mom?” Shawn asked kicking at the pumpkin and turning to mom.

I can’t do this anymore; I can’t look at mom red eyed and weak. My mind is flashing shots of Sandy’s bright smiling face, her shiny, dark, all-the-way-down-her-back hair. Hear her voice calling to me, “Come give me a kiss lue-la-bell!”

My chest tightens, my eyes start to sting…my brain freezes on an image of Sandy again in hospital bed, no longer in a cast but coved head to toe in a white sheet. I shake off the image balling my hands into fists.

“You don’t know what dead is!” I scream down at my clueless freckled face brother. “God you are so dumb! Every. One. Knows. What DEAD IS!”

“Michelle!” My mother scolds “don’t be mean, he just doesn’t understand, come sit down.”

My body takes over…running…up the stairs past my grieving mother…holding on… over the wood porch, the screen door slamming behind me as I race down the hall to my room. Gone.

I land face first into my pillow. I should be crying, but I am not, I should be crying, but I can’t. I just see her face…always smiling, always…always happy to see me. I see the brown paper bag she hands me at my last birthday, a rumpled brown paper bag…her bigger then life smile…a brown paper bag with my birthday gift inside. An etch-a-sketch. I don’t remember any other gifts from my 7th birthday, but I’ll never forget that brown paper bag…that etch-a-sketch…and that smile.

I was too young they said. Too young for Sandy’s funeral service…too young to say goodbye.

“Bunny, you’re my favorite Auntie now,” I informed my Aunt Bunny shortly after that day…the day I was too young for. “But when you die… Auntie Jerri will be my favorite Aunt.”

“Oh, great,” she laughs tossing her cigarette butt into the grass and rubbing her smoky hand in my hair. “Lucky me.”

I guess I just didn’t understand either.