Here comes Peter Cottontail Screaming Down the Bunny Trail Because Laying Eggs Would Hurt!

We took our children to our annual mom's club Easter Egg Hunt and it is with this event that the Lenten season goes out the window and the bunny hops right on in. I mean how could this not happen. Sure getting a palm at church is fun, but getting chocolate eggs is way better. Besides the Passion of Christ is a heady and emotional concept even for adults, so it is off with the Easter Bunny that I hop promising myself that I will tackle the death and rebirth of the Savior in the not to distant future. Almost daily my son asks when his Easter Candy will be here. We tell that children leave baskets out the night before Easter and that the Easter bunny will fill them up and then hide them for the children to find on Easter morning. This explanation placates him and he seems happy to wait for yet another unseen deliveryman to make his day.

That is until he upped the ante. He asks yesterday, "Where is the Easter bunny, right now?" I immediately replied, "On Easter Island of course!" Immediately visions of Moais, brightly colored eggs and a fevered harangued Easter bunny jumping around trying to get it all done in time fill my mind. Now I understand that the Easter bunny is a pre-Christian symbol. That the rabbit and the egg represent Spring and fertility. But how did we get from a symbol of fertility, to rabbit laying eggs and delivering them to children. And does this not strike anyone else as very odd. Not so much the delivery business, but the laying business. This is odd, right. Because Rabbits are mammals and usually the Easter bunny is depicted as male. So I looked it up. On the internet, because to me the internet is like the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus and The Great Pumpkin combined: only better. According the site I liked best and therefore took as gospel the word Easter is a variation of the word Eostre and Eostre was/is the German goddess of fertility. The rabbit was her symbol. She bestowed upon this rabbit the ability to lay eggs once a year. This seems a bit extreme of Eostre and I wonder if she herself had every had to "lay" anything and mean that in the birthing way, not in the fun let's get laid kind of way. Perhaps she should have had him build eggs. Yes, that seem more appealing to me.


BTW, the name Eostre is also where the word uterus comes from, so while I do not like the idea of a rabbit laying eggs; I do consider us luckily that this legend did not take a different turn. Suppose that Spring was the one time of the year that this rabbit got his period. That would be a fun holiday.

Ode to the F-Word

This "poem" is dedicated to Vice President Joe Biden.  Because whether you support it or not, healthcare reform is a big fuckin' deal.  For real solutions however, stay tuned for The Mom care.  Seriously folks I have ALL the answers.  I don't know what the question is, but I have ALL the answers. 

Oh F-Word!

Oh Valiant F-Word!

Just four simple letters F-U-C-K,

they speak so loud.

You are the oh so magical F-Word.

You can denote raunchy sex.

Or exclaim horror and joy.

You can describe wonder

and confusion.

You are the oh so magical F-Word. 

You are forbidden

You are unwanted

You are bleeped when

spoke aloud.

You are the oh so magical F-Word.

Haiku Thursday?

On the walking path
two walkers plod on before me
I said on the left, mutherfucker
NOW MOVE!


What? Seriously you expected an actual Haiku. Oh man, you are on the wrong blog. 

Wordless Wednesday-Project Build the Perfect Man

The K-Man changes the toilet paper roll all by himself.  Sorry about the toilet in the photo, but this is what the master bathroom in a hobbit house looks like and I like to share hobbit house lifestyle whenever I can. 

Tips for Surviving the NCAA Tournament

My husband has a big problem, he is an addict. He is addicted to college basketball and sometimes to baseball. Okay, so as addictions go this one is not so bad. I mean it could be worse, he could be banging waitresses like Tiger or bribing the maid to score some oxy like Rush....hey wait that would be mean we had a maid....hmmm.. No, NO! Drugs are bad, mkay.


Here are some tips for surviving your spouse’s sports addiction.

· Get a hobby. Knit, cross-stitch, scrapbook, weld things together. Whatever just find something to fill the time that you will be spending alone.
· Read a book! Might I suggest Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged. In our present political climate it is more frightening than a Stephen King novel, but it is very long. It should last you through the tournament and well into the MLB playoffs, which you are going to have to watch even if your team is not in them because it is tradition.
· Drink
· Bake or cook. It is time consuming and fun and maybe even nourishing.
· Run away to the gym or a spa. Sure the kids are exactly being watched by your husband while you are gone, but legally there is an adult present.
· Start a blog and bitch about it!
· Or you could actually fill out a bracket and try and get into it. Nah, that is too easy. Stick with the blogging idea.

Happy St. Patrick's Day

May those who love us love us.

And those that don't love us,

May God turn their hearts.

And if He doesn't turn their hearts,

May he turn their ankles,

So we'll know them by their limping.

m4m Under the Bridge

Dear Sirs:

I am very sorry that you were so startled when my young son and I came along the pedestrian path, which runs under the bridge on Concannon Blvd yesterday morning. In all fairness I did not see you there behind those bushes and I really do appreciate that you waited until we were out from under the bridge before you yourself, Guy #1 darted out. If you had leapt while I was under the bridge I would have assumed the worst and probably pissed my pants. As it was I was only mildly startled, as I wondered, 'Where did he come from?’ Then I saw Guy #2 hurrying along a few seconds after you. I must say, Guy #1 it was not very gentlemanly to have left him with his pants not exactly on just yet. The poor thing was having to adjust them as he ran.

Now I am a pretty open-minded person, but I could not help but notice that you were both wearing wedding rings. Now as one of the handful of people who voted no on 8(and one of only like three Republican's at that--BTW no on 8 meant yes to 'Gay Marriage'). I am happily willing to think and allow that you two might be married to each other. Maybe your marriage needed a little spicing up, so off to the bridge you ran for a little quickie by the babbling brook. But, something in your demeanor, plus the furtive glances and pulling down of baseball caps over faces when you saw me, tells me that there are a couple of Mrs. out there who have no idea that their misters are getting some mister on mister action. This my good sirs is where my open mindedness ends. I have no issue whatsoever with someone’s sexual preference. It matters not to me. I do not think is immoral or disgusting for two guys or two gals to get it on. It is the lying that I am objecting to. You are lying to yourself and to your wife. You need to be honest. You need to tell your wife what you really feel. And until you do that you need to stop what you were doing yesterday morning and not because the act of two guys getting it on is wrong, BUT because you are going to get busted. Next time that person walking along might actually recognize you or they might call the cops. If your wife learns about your try sexual preference from a friend, an acquaintance or a cop and not from you, it is going to 100 times worse for you, her and any kids you all might have.

If I am totally off base and you guys are just two happily married to each other men, might I suggest some of those empty business parks up by Costco.  Car sex it fun, too!

Sincerely,

The Mom

Day 4440 of captivity to the hu-mons. Freedom is mine now that I have gotten my paws on the talking fun box(insert evil laugh here). I now have control over the tweeting bird site and the booking of the stoopid hu-mon faces. I will be eatin that bird soon so get your fill of that tweeting bird while yous can evil hu-mons.

Before I commense my bird eating, I has a list of demands for hu-mons so them can get there power fun book back. I want to watch Big Cat Diaries now and every day. And that show should have more big cats eating hu-mons, tweeter birds, owls and those stoopid hu-mon loving, drooling dogs too. There should be anchovies and caviar in my food bowl three times a day. I want to be carried around on a silk pillow by the big hu-mons so that those little hu-moms can't touch my soft fur with they stoopid sticky hu-mon off-spring hands. And I not to get in trouble for plotting to kill that rodent guinea pig from the very sticky boy's class. He sounds yummy and I cannot wait to meet his tastiness.

I give tweety bird fun box back when I gets my demands. Oh and dog is stoopid.

Some Random Thoughts from The Mom

Here is a re-cap of some of my more recent random thoughts. Thankfully I managed to keep them all in so that I then share them with you.  Like the Pope, I am filled with a generous spirit and I too like red shoes. 

• If you state that you are not narcissistic enough to start a blog, does that not in fact prove that you are narcissistic? 
• Well, Oklahoma is not here to make you happy. 
• Hey I am no longer on the board of my locale mother's so, I can delete you as a friend on Facebook if I damn well want to. Whoot-Whoot! 
• http, people. Say it with me: the link will not work without the http! 
• Why are umbrellas child magnets?
• Sleeping with two boys is not as exciting as I thought it would be, especially after one of them ate extra garlic with dinner.
• Fake cake has no calories!  Yeah!  Unfortunately it also tastes like a toy car.
• Timothy Olyphant is in a new show.....drool, drool, drrrr, drool, drrr, drool?  I am sorry, what?
• Wow, Billy Bush is a real douche bag or is he a tool.  I get those two confused.
• Snark, snark, snort, snort: Meth Lab found in snobby neighboring town.  Snark!

Sue-a-what?

Okay, so Lindsay Lohan is suing E-Trade for their Milkaholic ad. In the ad the main E-Trade BABY is being questioned by his BABY girlfriend about whether or not he has been spending time with another BABY named Lindsay whom his girlfriend refers to a milkaholic. He denies that he has been with this other BABY, but then the Lindsay BABY pops up and says, 'Milk-a-what?' Seriously this is a very funny commercial. Here is a link to the "news" story about the lawsuit and a link to the commercial. And just to be clear I am the mother of a proud 2 year old milk-a-holic and I have an e-trade account, but I swear that these do not factor into the diatribe I am about to ride off on. AND yes in my little world diatribes are basically the same things at winged horses.


Basically this suit suggests that the characterization of this BABY named Lindsay as a being addicted to MILK is dig at Lindsay Lohan and that it will cause her harm. So does this mean that she has trademarked and copy write protected the name Lindsay or merely the partial word: 'o-holic'. Last I checked that are two ways to spell Lindsay either with an A or an E. Do we really even know that this BABIES named is spelled L-I-N-D-S-A-Y? Hell this commercial could actually be a dig at Lindsey Vonn. We all know that she is a snow-a-holic. There are lots of Lindsay/Lindseys out there and Lindsay Lohan is hardly in the same category as Oprah, Cher or Madonna. Furthermore, you Lindsay Lohan are not the only drug addict/alcoholic. Not by a long shot. You are probably not even the only person named Lindsay/Lindsey who has a problem with drugs and alcohol.

Besides and big newsflash to Lindsay Lohan, this commercial depicts babies doing things like talking, play golf and using E-trade. We can assume as the viewer that there is a certain suspension of reality going on here. Or maybe Lindsay Lohan thinks that babies can play golf and use E-trade. As a mother of two, allow me to assure you all that children cannot golf or use E-trade until they are least like, what 6?

Let me just ask Miss Lohan a quick questiong here: this is the battle you have picked to fight? Really? You passed out in a car with your hoo-hah exposed for everybody to see. Maybe you should have sued yourself for defamation of character.

Wordless Wednesday

at age 2 the mop training begins

A Nanny Tree

I need to make a doctors appointment and I am wondering if it will just be easier to have my husband make the call. As a stay at home mom I have plan a visit to the doctor around the schedules of children and spouse with little thought actually made to what it best for me. Before I get to this point even I need to call the insurance company to make certain that what I want done is even covered, and we all know how that is going to work out. 5 minutes into being on hold with the insurance company both kids are going to have total meltdowns and very noisily need my complete and total attention. So, I am either going to have to hang up or stay on the line and not hear a word said by the person/machine on the other end.

Let's say that all goes well, I call the insurance company to happily discover that this thing I want is covered. Then I have to ask my husband for his work schedule for the next couple of weeks and ask again and ask again. Once he remembers I then have to decipher his handwriting. Once the handwriting is figured out I have to call the doctors office and hope that I can get an appointment on one of the available dates for the available times. Of course I have to factor in drive time and actual wait time at the doctors office. Ugh!

This is all before I can even think about the actual doctors appointment. I am seriously thinking he should just make the call. Might be easier. Of course my husband has trouble saying the word vagina out loud so calling a gynecologist might be out of his comfort zone just a bit. Of course being grown woman being reduced to little more than a child in order make a doctors appoint is for sure out of my comfort zone.  But what is to be done.  Nannies don't grow on trees and I really don't want to take the children along with me to the gynecologist.

My Oscar Re-Cap

To be fair, I only saw the end of the Oscars. So this is really just a re-cap of like the last hour or so. Not really sure how much I actually watched because I paused the DVR during the dance number and then fast forwarded through it and all the other shit I did not want to see.

So here is my re-cap of the last hour or so of the Oscar, minus all the shit I did not watch.

The over all vibe: Self Congratulatory Narcissism. But that is the same every year, right? Actors are just kind of like that. If they were not they would be accountants.
Best Dressed: Sandra Bullock! That dress was awesome. Just beautiful! Again I have to admit that I only saw like three dresses. But this one really stood out.
Worst Dressed: J-Lo! Bubble wrap is not a good look. PERIOD.

Dumbest Thing That I Watched, but Wish I had FF through: The introduction of each of the nominees for Best Actor and Best Actress. Was this needed? I think not. A simple clip from the movie has been working for like forever. So, let's go back to that. Shall we.

The Reason DVRs were invented: Dance Numbers at the Oscars. News Flash people, Busby Berkeley is still dead. Except for the once in a while occassion they do not make song and dance movies anymore. So there is really not need to dance. Just place a clip of the movie with the music. Enough! Move on! Leave the dancing to the Tony's, were they have musicals still.

Oscar Movies that I actually saw this Year: A Serious Man (I am a sucker for those Coen Brothers) and Up. Those two, plus The Hangover, New Moon and The Squeakwel (sp? but who cares it is a movie about fucking talking chipmunks) were the only movies I saw this year period. Honestly The Hanover was the best. Funny, but really good too.

Oscar Nominated Films I Will Probably Never See: Inglorious Bastards; I just do not like Quentin Tarantino. I am of the opinion that he peeked with Pulp Fiction and every movie since has been nothing more than a psychological exercise in why Quentin hates Blonde Women...one wonders what mommy looked like. In all fairness of Quentin, I think Alfred Hitchcock had the same issue. Avatar; Yup this flick holds no appeal to me whatsoever. I just don't think it sounds that entertaining. It looks like a video game.

Oscars Big F-Up: You left Farrah Fawcett off your tribute. You could have had one more person up that. I know you could have. And why is the audience clapping? Are the happy that these people died? Seems odd. I should have made this plural because I think something technically went wrong when Tom Hanks did the Best Picture award. It just seemed to skip a beat.

Arboreal Homicidal Thoughts

Every year this tree in my neighbor's back yard blooms and as a result my head explodes.  I am probably  exaggerate just a bit.  If my head actually exploded I would have to grow a new one each year and that would be most troublesome.  Okay, my head does not explode, but it sure hurts like a mean fucker for a month or so. 

This is the tree:

Sure it looks harmless enought, but this is what it feels like to me:

Notice the red, the post-apocalyptic feel, that is the inside of my head until all the blossoms fall off this tree.  Sure it is pretty and trees clean the air, but I am in pain here.  I dream of the tree's untimely demise.  I want this tree left for dead on the side of the road.  I want it pushed into a wood chipper.  I have never had such strong feelings towards flora.  But this pain the only force in my life that matters at the moment.  My children and cat know to give me a wide berth when the pain hits. My husband knows to bring me motrin and water on a regular basis. I wake everyday in pain and end every day in pain.  It is omni-present.  This and this alone makes me hate the tree.  I have tried many allergy medicines, but nothing seems to work.  I am limited as to the pain medications I can take because of body's hatred of Aleve.  So, I am stuck in pain most of the time.  I know it will end, but still it is horrid while it lasts. 

Craptastic Movie Week

Last week my husband was out of town so I marked the week by watching one craptastic movie after another. This was not the plan. The plan was to have something going on the background while I knitted, but the only thing on was the Olympics and I grew bored of the Olympics like the minute I realized all the athletes were young enough to the be product of one of my high school fumbling sexual encounters gone array. For the record the Mom was a most responsible teen who managed to keep her panties on all throughout high school. I am just saying one thing can lead to another and the next thing you know you panties are flying threw the air. Am I right? Oh maybe I am the only person here whose high school homecoming queen had a 3 year old. Anyway, I digress.

The Olympics made me feel old so I decided to find something else to watch. Things started off well. I watched the movie Ghost Town with Tea Leoni, Ricky Gervais and Greg Kinnear. They all made me feel really young. I like them the most of all! Not only was this movie a good ego booster for my 38-year-old self, but also it was pretty fun. How could it not be Ricky Gervais would be amusing while reading the phone book aloud? Sadly, things went down hill from there.

The following movies were either free on demand or on cable at the time I was looking for something to watch. I though that there was the chance that the first one might not be all that bad, but by the end the rest were chosen for there potential horridness.

· The Swing Vote: Not only is this movie completely impossible it is completely horrible. In a nutshell Kevin Costner plays an out of work egg checker whose daughter guilty of voter fraud. So, he pretends to have attempted to vote so that he can avoid another felony conviction. This movie is so ripe with stereotypes about the average white guy that the chickens left the production early on in protest. And Dennis Hopper really needs a facial.

· Paul Bart Mall Cop: Ahhhhh! My days as a mall employee came flashing back before my eyes. It was painful. It was stupid. It made me throw up a little in my mouth. I really hate the mall.

· Fred Claus: Okay this one had Kevin Spacey, Paul Giamatti, Kathy Bates, and Miranda Richardon in it. That should balance out anything that Vince Vaughn could dish out. Should and did are two very different things.

· Pearl Harbor: In all fairness I picked this movie because I knew it was supposed to horrible. It really had no hope. Where to start? Where to start? How about I will start and end with the fact that Ben Affleck’s character took a train from New York to London. Need I say more?