Completely ripped off of HDL who ripped it off someone else--but I think she likes me stealing stuff from her, she's a good sport.
A is for Age - Thirty-one B is for Booze - Miller Lite--my husband has denounced me since we live in the Land that Anheuser-Busch built, but hey Miller Lite was cheaper in college so I stuck with it C is for Career - I used da work in an abused kid's shelter--now I'm a Shit Ass Ho Mother fucker--or, if you prefer, a Stay at Home Mom D is for Dad's name - Big Billy E is for Essential Item to Bring to a Party -I usually bring a bottle of wine but that doesn't mean I'm pretentious--it's usually something like Sutter Home or crap like that F is for Favorite Song(s) of the Moment - "Best of You" by the Foo Fighters G is for Goof Off Thing To Do - Blog for hours straight and pretend I know everyone better than I actually do H is for Hometown - Belleville, right next to the Murder Capital of America, East St. Louis I is for Instrument You Play - Piano and the flute J is for Jam or Jelly You Like - Grape and Blackberry but I never eat it anymore K is for Kids - Two. Complete opposites. L is for Living Arrangement - In a house on a street. M is for Mom's Name - Sandbags N is for Names of Best Friends - I have several from each period in my life. O is for Overnight Hospital Stays - 4. Two for my kid's births, one for my own, and one for a real bad infection I had after I had my first baby. That's a definite post for a sooner than later day. P is for Phobias -Flying. Q is for Quote You Like - "I am the master of my fate, the captain of my soul" R is for Relationship That Lasted the Longest - My marriage--married 8.5, together 9.5 S is for Siblings - One brother T is for Texas, ever been? - Yes, Dallas. West of Dallas was very, very dry. We did stop to see the frog that was stuck in a cornerstone of a building that they've kept stuffed. Ew. U is for Unique Trait - I um, can do the MC Hammer dance. V is for Vegetable You Love - Broccoli, cucumbers are veggies right? W is for Worst Trait - Oh my god I can be SO sensitive. I think everyone hates me. X is for X-rays you've had - My lungs for pneumonia, that is all. Y is for Yummy Food You Make - Turkey spaghetti, Mexican casserole and these really good cranberry crumb cakes at Christmas (ooh how about that alliteration?) Z is for Zodiac Sign - Libra sign of Indecision and Can't Say No (but ask LP, I say no all the time)
So I'm a little late with the SPD today but at least I participated this week! Although I must say I'm kinda glad I skipped the in a public bathroom one...and yes, my cats DO jump on the counters so if you ever visit keep that in mind.
Today I took my parents and my kids across the river into Missouri for fireworks (all we have here in IL are snap n' pops and sparklers) and I played that "Ma ai hee" song by O-zone and my dad was HOWLING laughing because all the girls were singing it and making Cat's facial expressions--it was hilarious!!!!
This weekend we went to Sam's Club. Why? We love the smell of excessive merchandise. I walked in and to my immediate left was the CD rack. I walked casually by, when his PRESENCE was felt. I could feel him. I turned, and there it was. Rick Springfield's latest 'greatest hits' album!! There! Staring back at me with his Dr. Noah Drake eyes!! I was transfixed.
**Note: Okay, say what you want but YES there were other songs on there besides 8 renditions of "Jessie's Girl". He is multi-faceted ya know. And yes, I know, as my sister-in-law pointed out, that this "NEW" greatest hits only has like 2 new songs in it than the 'old' greatest hits that I already have. Whatever. No hating on Rick please. I will laugh, but then tell you to SUCK it because I know you listened to Milli Vanilli and had no IDEA they weren't singing. so THERE.**
I carried it, nay, I cradled it while we walked around the store. As we approached the check out line, I noticed it curled around well past the ginormous tubs of animal crackers. No way was I going to wait in line with ONE thing. These people ahead of me have months worth of mustard, and I had one item. Aaron looked at my sadness and said, "Don't worry, honey, we'll go straight to Best Buy, it will be there." (did I mention I love this man?)
Only problem was, IT WASN'T. Not at Kmart, Not at Wal-Mart. It was NOWHERE TO BE FOUND.
So now I go on in my days, mourning yet longing for the day I can make it back up to Sam's and come home with the greatest Lifetime movie actor EVER singing his greatest hits.
Alex had a frog birthday party this week. After we took this picture my husband started freaking out because she had blood on her arm and he was trying to find the cut, and it was gushing out--then we realized DUH it was the red icing, as you can see in this pic her arm is totally smearing.
I must act quickly as the Computer Whore will realize i am actually ABLE to use the Internet and then she will immediately CUT ME OFF. So i can at least hurry up and fire one off here before she notices. Seriously, I have written at least 3 posts in the past few days that she has quickly WIPED away from existence. Bitch.
Anyway today was Clean up the House Day and I *accidentally* vacuumed up one of Alex's rosaries. Holy beads flying everywhere!!
Al made the select soccer team--woo hoo for her!! I'm not sure if I'm elated just yet--this means 2 practices a week and at least 2 games a weekend, lots of runnin'. Better enjoy my summer while I can.
I am seriously working the tan this year, that pool membership has paid off skin melanomas be damned. Al had her first swim meet this weekend--yeah it was 98 degrees and I don't mean the rock pop boy sensation group. It is HOT. Anyway, she came in last or next-to-last in all 3 races, and I was worried she might have felt less than fantastic, but when she got out of the water she said, "Did you see me mom? I finished!!!" I'm so glad she was not throwing an Official Al Hissy Fit about it, and I was so proud of her.
Well I must hurry the computer whore is figuring me out...hopefully I will be able to write more soon!! I missed both self/stuff portrait days and everything. Sigh.
I was so scared, Al. I was scared that it was going to hurt (and it did!) but I was also scared about bringing home a human being. What did I get myself into??
The first few months were awful. I cried, you cried, it was miserable. I wondered if I'd ever bond with you like all the other mothers had told me I would. You were a little stranger to me, and I loved you, but I felt like I was doing something wrong to make you cry all the time.
Eight years have gone by and it seems like yesterday I was holding you, rocking you, trying to get you to sleep.
I wish I could go back in time and tell that young mom, holding the screaming baby, that it would be alright, and that her daughter turns out wonderful, and that the bond she'll have with that baby will be like nothing else she's ever experienced. That although she will never lose that feeling in her stomach when her daughter is out of her sight, all of the laughter you share together will be the sweetest feeling in the world.
Happy 8th birthday my little fish. I love you Al, more than you'll ever know.
Well since it is Tuesday I will just say one thing about feet: It took me several years before I would allow my husband to even TOUCH my feet. That is all. take care of your feet, please.
I would like to talk about BUGS however. I am one of the apparent minority of women who have no problem with our insect friends. Bugs, spiders, creepy crawlies of any kind, do not faze me in one bit. Mice, the non-Mickey kind, freak me the hell out, but that is a story for another day. But bugs are my friends. Ever since I saw Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, I thought it would be cool to eat spaghetti with bugs. I haven't yet, but it's still on my list of things to do.
Anyway, the bug world must be ticked (ha...er, sorry) off that I don't show them the respect they deserve, and that I do not bow to their ickiness by not being afraid, that they have chosen to TORMENT me in the most annoying way possible. They go for the orifices. And this affliction has been passed on to my children, as I have taught them NOT to be afraid of bugs.
Be afraid of bugs. Be very, very afraid.
Last summer I was working at my church picnic when a BUG flew into my ear. He could have made it easier on all of us by flying OUT of my ear, but instead chose to BURROW INTO my ear, thus causing me to completely go insane for about 5 minutes. Have you ever heard flitting and the feeling of a foreign object going straight for your brain? Well this was it. After much freaking and visiting several levels of hell, I finally squeezed on my upper jaw and ew... the dead bug and much of his insides came slurping out. Now, it hurt like HELL but seriously, how do you tell that story without the person hearing the story laughing hysterically at how ridiculous it sounds? You can't. It is ridiculous.
Yesterday, while at the pool, another malicious and obviously unhappy with our family embracing the species instead of fearing them, decided to attack my oldest daughter. Ooh but this guy was MUCH unhappier about our resistance to their authority. He was like the Grand Poobug of Making the Humans Fear Us because he aimed right. for. her. Special. Purpose.
Yep, he crawled right up there and ZZZZT stung her once. She starts flailing and freaking out! "There's a bug in there! Ah! Ah!" and in front of God and all the other pool members (assuming God has a pass) she starts pulling her suit off, as she should have. I covered her with a towel and tried to get the damn bug out of her swim suit. But I failed.
I got her up to the bathroom and the lifeguard brought the First Aid kit. That mothergrabbing insect bit her 5 times!! All of them millimeters from her very tender spot. God it must have hurt like hell. I put some After Bite on it and she felt better, but dammit when we got down to the pool she FEARED the bugs. "They will get me again, Mommy. I know it."
So all of you bugs out there listening, YOU MESSED WITH THE WRONG KID. YOU WILL BE GOING DOWN IN A BLAZE OF RAID AND OFF AND CITRONELLA AND DDT IF I CAN FIND IT. I WILL NOT BOW DOWN TO YOUR SPECIES!!! I AM NOT AFRAID OF YOU!!!!!!
Sunset from my friend's house...since my computer is acting crazy I don't know how often I will be able to blog this week...LP is getting more memory next week so I may have to wait until then...so for now enjoy this!!
Yeah I want less of those numbers on the scale. Not lesser feet, people. And no I'm not insane enough to show the Internet what numbers are ON the scale. I love you Internet, but even lovers need to have a few secrets!
Sorry sorry sorry I was unable to do SPD today, I was gone almost all day doing Kid Chores. ya know, dragging them around to Kid Commitments buying Kid paraphenalia and practicing for Kid Recital that resulted from several weeks of Kid Lessons. What I mean was, yo I was busy.
but anyway if you look a few posts ago at my GINORMOUS monitor then you will find where I do my blogging. It is usually when I'm transcribing and I need to take a break from the stories of rashes and erectile dysfunctions and mucous and all those pretty things. You would never believe how many people go to the doctor having onychomycosis (toe fungus, basically).
The soccer drama is still ensuing, hopefully it will clear itself up as quick as that toe fungus does. Then I can focus my pursuits elsewhere, like blogging!
Tomorrow, gals and boys I will definitely be participating in the Self Portrait Friday.
My husband thinks I should put a picture of HIM up there, as he believes I always need more of him, but sometimes less of him but still love him the way he is. I could do that, but I'm not.
Also, I need to come up with a better nickname for him so I don't have to keep typing out his name. I could call him AHH!!--Ah the Hot Husband. Or I could call him TGWIAPM--that guy who is always poking me--but people might take 'poking' the wrong way and think he's some sort of pervert. And plus, that's more letters than are in his real name so that would be pointless. Hmm, let me ponder that one.
Today's blog is brought to you by the letters D, R, A, M and A. Why? Why must be there be drama?? I hate it. I run away from it, screaming with my arms flailing AiiiEEEEE no drama.
But still. There it is. Everywhere.
Especially when it comes to sports. Eh. I hate the sport parents drama!!
IT IS JUST A GAME. Your son/daughter will not lose everything if they do not do well on their soccer/tennis/bocce/bowling/baseball/pingpong/MahJohng/Bangagong game. None of this will matter in 20 years. Remember Al Bundy in Married with Children? Yeah, he was on his football team in high school. NOW HE SELLS SHOES.
I can't handle the drama in soccer parents. Around here, soccer is The. Sport. I put Al in in kindergarten, thinking she would like it. FOR FUN. By 1st grade there was already pressure about going 'select'. I can't stand it!! What is it that turns normal, well-meaning parents into these hounds of hell? Why does it always turn into, "My kid is better than you"?? Ohhh the drama.
I am going right now to iTunes and downloading that Mary J. Blige song. I need me some dancing around the house. Then I will play Polly Pockets with Rug and THAT my friends is the only 'drama' I need to be around!!! :)
Is everyone in the world reading "Ya-Yas in Bloom"?? It seems like every blog I read it comes up. Well, I finished it and would love to hear what others thought of it. I am also in desperate need of a good pool book this summer--ah my kids are finally old enough where I can watch them from outSIDE the pool--so any suggestions would greatly be appreciated. Thanks.
I read on Susie's site that today's topic is love, and what it is. I do believe several songs have been written on said subject, hell, most of them are, except for that one about prison sex from Tool, I'm fairly certain that's not about love. Anyway. Dee-Lite has "What is Love" and so does Haddaway. I guess no one out there can truly figger it out. I thought that little naked girl and boy from the 70s seemed to have an idea, at least.
Love to me is so many things. It's doing the dishes, making dinner, giving your loved one the last cupcake even though you really, really want it. It's waking up for feeding time, planning a surprise date, sending a funny email.
I do believe the more love you give the more you will get in return.
As far as love goes, I knew nothing of it before I had kids. Loving your husband is one thing, a passionate love. But when I instantly knew I loved my baby, it was all encompassing. You can tell my husband his feet smell, but if you tell my daughter that I will cut you.
My favorite love in pop culture:
Love in the movies: I know, I cannot get over my poor 80s movie affliction, but the scene in "Say Anything" with Lloyd Dobler holding that boombox up in the rain is OOZING lovelovelove. How many girls instantly got a crush on John Cusack from that one scene?
It's a Wonderful Life...George is surrounded by people who have donated their own money to him to save his building and loan...friends who loved him and cared for him. I have seen friends gather around when someone is down and it is a tremendous, emotional event.
Love on TV: I don't watch a lot of TV, so I'm just going to say the Love Boat really kicked ass when I was little. Charo must've known a lot about love.
Love in music: Hands down one song sums up my feelings, "Somebody" by Depeche Mode:
I want somebody to share share the rest of my life Share my innermost thoughts Know my intimate details Someone who'll stand by my side and give me support And in return she'll get my support She will listen to me when I want to speak About the world we live in And life in general Though my views may be wrong They may even be perverted She'll hear me out and won't easily be converted In fact she'll often disagree But at the end of it all She will understand me
I want somebody who cares for me passionately With every thought and with every breath Someone who helps me see things in a different light All the things I detest I will almost like I don't want to be tied to anyone's strings Im carefully trying to steer clear of those things. And when I'm asleep I want somebody Who will put their arms around and kiss me tenderly Though things like this Make me sick In a case like this I'd get away with it...
okay great song. But I do have to say, that putting your arms around me when I'm sleeping will eventually cause me to kick you because I need my SPACE man.
And last of all, Love on SNL. The late great Chris Farley had a chance to interview the great Paul McCartney and it went down like this:
Chris Farley: Right. I think we.. I think we got time for one more question. Uh.. remember when you were in The Beatles? And, um, you did that album Abbey Road, and at the very end of the song, it would.. the song goes, "And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make"? You.. you remember that?
Paul McCartney: Yes.
Chris Farley: Uh.. is that true?
Paul McCartney: Yes, Chris. In my experience, it is. I find, the more you give, the more you get.
Chris Farley: (Ecstatic, starts to point at Paul and mouth "AWESOME!)
Totally ripped off HDL. I thought her poem was beautiful, and it wasn't even personal to me.
I am From: by Vajana
I am from orange-colored Trimline phones, from Marboloros and Handee Wipes. I am from the old, brown house on the hill with the screened-in backporch and ripe tomatoes in the garden, where the doors were never locked and the color once was green. I am from the rhubarb, the lilacs, the honeysuckle bush. I am from camping in the summer, and trivia nights and baseball games, from Mildred and Sally, Davidson and Wessel. I am from clean houses and cluttered basements. From playing it by ear and because I said so. I am from Catholics and Protestants, from baptisms and confirmations, from uniforms and strict rules, from guilt for eating a hamburger on a Friday. I'm from Illinois, Germany, Ireland and America, from dad's popped popcorn to mom's chocolate pudding with the layer on top. From the man who cries at Field of Dreams, the woman who still longs for Hawaiian sunsets, the brother that thought he'd become Indiana Jones, from grandmothers who smelled like Estee Lauder and baked pies especially for me, and a grandpa who loved his Burmuda shorts, and one I never got to meet. I am from high closets I can never reach, from a top drawer of an antique dresser, from memories staring back at me now.
5. Flipped up collars on teenagers. LP pointed this one out. At a local carnival, they were there in droves and several had the ol' Izod flipped collar up. I couldn't believe it and had to walk over and see if the young ones were wearing Polo as well. If they were, it had disintegrated into Midwest sweaty teenage juice.
4. Old man on bike obsessed with Tigger. Remember when Harley guys were Hell on Wheels and could tear your ass a new ass? well now they enjoy the bouncey-trouncey T-I double Grrr! This 'hog' was adorned with several renderings of the lovable creature, aww.
3. Mohawk on 4-year-old. did I mention we were at a carnival.
2. Boy on bicycle doing a wheelie down the street with Joe Boxer underwear on. They were leopard print. He took a bow when he was done. Did I mention I live in Middle America?
and the top random and really odd thing I saw this weekend:
1. Old carnie giving baby a bottle behind the Ferris Wheel. Cuz dem carnie babies got to grow up strong so they too can get a chance at the glory that is Carnival.
Our CD collection, which does not include the disks we've burned, those are somewhere else in the house. I've displayed the one CD that is essential to all CD collection, Rick Springfield's Greatest Hits.
My father is one of the most pure, innocent souls around. He still believes in Santa Claus, the goodness of others and that politicians are honest. He is a true 50s Pleasantville throwback.
The other night I went to my parent's house for a BBQ and we were looking at his old high school yearbook. He went to an all boy's school, and as I was leafing through it, I asked my father,
"Was there a lot of man love?"
Since it has been mentioned numerous times on this site that I suck, and I oftentimes say the wrong thing, what I MEANT to say to my father, what I was trying to inquire, was whether or not the men bonded more without the fear of the fluffy, often times insane prowess of women lurking in the hallways. You know, the gggrrrr stuff that men usually obtain thru football, poker and drinking or a mixture of the 3.
I thought LP was going to fall over he was laughing so hard.
THIS, the same guy that told my MOTHER, June Cleaver personified, that he played the SKIN flute in his high school band.
The theme this week for Self Portrait day was Transportation so I decided to 'roll with it' heh. This is my favorite mode of getting from point A to point B unfortunately rollerblades do not have back seats for the kids, a DVD player and satellite radio like my other main mode of transportation, the Kickass KSHE Grand Caravan, does. Oh well.
Yesterday I took the girls to Subway for a bite to eat. Upon walking back to the car, I saw an EPT stick lying in the parking lot. Having had experience with pregnancy tests in the past, I could not supress my urge to go and see what the results were. (and I had an immediate sense of having to pee)
Well the results were negative. So the question remains, how did a used EPT test stick end up lying in the parking lot of Subway?
Those subs are fresh. They're delicious. Their new slogan should be, "They're so delicious you won't even need to know what your pregnancy test results are. They're THAT GOOD."