The Confessions of a Stay at Home Mom

Busted!

2011-06-10T08:00:00.000-07:00

Daddy, Why is mommy naked? Possible and often plausible excuses to free you from one of parenting's most awkward moments.

Meteorological: It is hot outside and she was very warm, so she took her clothes off.

Medical: Monthly mole check

Exhaustion:She was putting on her pajamas, got really tired and decided to lay down.

Fashion: Mommy's not naked. Her clothing is just clear.

Political: Why is mommy naked? That is a good question, but we need to put it into context. I am not sure that, that is mommy and I cannot verify truly that she is indeed naked.

Knee-Jerk: What? Naked? Mommy's not naked. Go back to bed!

Just Plain Jerk: I told you to put a lock on the damn door.

Weight Loss Update

2011-06-09T17:11:00.000-07:00

Not having posted in a while I have not had a chance to brag endlessly about my weight loss success. What was I thinking? I should have posted this a long time ago. At the third picture was taken I had lost a total of 34.5 pounds. I am now at 37. The loss has slowed down a bit, but it is still happening. I have started lifting weights and doing some circuit training, so that should help kick things back into gear.

Here is my muscly arm, after only one month lifting

And here are my legs.

Run, Cicero, Run!

2011-06-08T16:25:00.000-07:00

"Times are bad. Children no longer obey their parents, and everyone is writing a book."
~Cicero

Okay, I normally loathe a quoter, but today I am the quoter. I suppose this is self loathing at an all new low, or would that be high. I digress. It seems as though everyone wants to write a book or at the very least everyone has written a book. That oompa loo from the Jersey Shore even wrote a book. Imagine what good ole Cicero would think of her, where he to spy her walking along to the Forum. Surely he would think she was some sort of monster sent from the gods to destroy Rome....hold on just a second. I think that has already happened. Not to be outdone by anyone I too am going to write a book. A memoir of my life. Here are some of my better title ideas:

I, Amy

The Mom: A Confessional

The Confessions of a Stay at Home Mom (shut up~one persons redundancy is another persons branding)

The Bible (what I want it to see a lot of copies don't I)

Completely Untrue: A Memoir (this one allows for a high level of plausible deniability)

Basically, these are all about my life, only the version were I took mescaline. Because my real life is most about taking sharp things away from children.

I'm Sorry, What?

2011-06-05T10:52:00.000-07:00

Admittedly it has been a while since I posted on the blog. I have managed to keep up with my cooking blog, but getting stuff down over here proved to more than I could handle. I have hopes that as schedule lightens up this summer and I spend more "quality time" with the children I will have more fodder for the blog.

Here is just a sample of what you have been missing because I have been lazy.

me: I cannot believe that women in this country have only be able to vote since 1920 and even then we were often treated as chattel.

him: I know, and this was in my great-grandmother's time.

me: I know. My grandmother got married and started the long arduous task to birthing NINE children, but she could not vote. And she never learned to drive, because my grandfather did not think women should drive. He did not even want his daughters to learn, but luckily their brothers all thought that was bunk and taught them anyway. Hell, even you think women are physically inferior.

him: Well, they are.

me: (starts to rear up and get pissed). We may not have upper body strength, but we more than make up for that with lower body strength and a high threshold for pain. It is not inferior, just different.

him: Okay, different. My point is just that I man could easily hurt or kill a woman, but a woman could not so easily hurt or kill a man. If I attacked you right now, I could do some serious damage to you, but if you attacked me you could not kill me.

me: Oh really. That's sounds like a challenge to me.

him: What?

No husband were harmed in the writing of this blog post.

Mustaches and Other Strange Household Conversations.

2011-03-14T08:00:00.000-07:00

Me: I need to go get a pedicure and have my mustache situation taken care of.

Hubbers: What mustache situation?

Me: This one (touching my upper lip). I'm starting to look like Tom Selleck.

Hubbers: Or Willford Brimley.

Me: NO! (I smack Hubbers at this point to make certain I have driven my point home)Tom Selleck. I get to pick the person for my mustache analogy and I want to pick someone who was hot when I was a kid. So, that person is Tom Sellack, NOT Willford Brimely

Hubbers: I was thinking Willford Brimely because his mustache was bushier and I was being ironic because you actually do not have a mustache.

Me: Your irony is lost on me good sir!

Hubbers: You know, Tom Selleck has aged well.

Me: I know(rolling eyes), that is why I picked him

Hubbers: for your mustache analogy....

Me: (insert heavy put upon sigh here) Yes. I mean he is no Gregory Harrison, but he is doing okay.

Hubbers: You're going to blog about this now, aren't you.

Me: Hell yes. That okay?

Hubbers: Sure. I'm not the one with the crazy faux mustache.

Don't Worry. I'm Still Here and I'm Still Weird

2011-03-12T12:11:00.000-08:00

I have not updated my blog ins months at this point. There is no real reason for that, except that this blog has always been very much fueled by my angst. Whether it was angst at having PPD, or angst with my weight issues, or personal issues......angst was always at that core of what drove this blog. Well over the past 6-8 months I have lost my angst and this is a good thing, don't get me wrong. Being happy is a way better thing then not being happy. For those people who have not tried or are perpetually unhappy might I suggest you give it a whirl, cuz it rocks the Casbah. Well, right about now you might be saying to yourself, 'Amy, how the fuck do I go about being happy?' That gentle reader is not something I can tell you really. Your path to happiness is yours alone and no one else can really even guide you along that path. You have to go it alone, or you will never go it, at all. I can only tell you about what I have done to attain happiness.

First: I stopped giving a shit about ANYONE, other than myself and my kids. So now I do pretty much was Amy, The K-Man and The Deedle want and need. Please don't feel bad for Hubbers because a happy wife makes for a happy husband. He just sets around and smiles...or maybe he has had a stroke.

Second: I started exercising. I know this sounds hackneyed at this point, but dammit this shit is better than Prozac. I start to feel overwhelmed or pissed off and I just got a run or a walk. Best damn thing ever. I highly recommend.

Third: I took control of my eating habits. I eat more of what my body needs and less of what my sadness wants. I limit eating out and I rarely participate in any social outings that revolve around food. It just makes life easier.

Fourth: I stopped giving a shit about ANYONE, other than myself and my kids...No this one is so damn good, I had to say it again. Come one moms, we put everyone else first and this is our nature. But we need to start putting ourselves first if we are going to be able to take care of everyone else.

And then blog about it. Either you'll feel better or you'll piss off eveyone else, which also feels good.

Sweet Misery

2011-02-08T08:33:00.000-08:00

There was on the interweb last week an article from Forbes which rated the misery level of American cities. Read it for yourself, here. The criteria by which this list was made are not immediately evident to me, but I am a yahoo article skimmer. So, admittedly I could have missed the intense scientific misery calculations used in this study. Sadly 8 of the 20 cities on the list are in California, mostly because we have been fucked the hardest by the housing crisis. For example, the Hubbers and I spent roughly 8 billion dollars on our Hobbit house, which is now worth 50 cents. This sucks ass for sure, but do not worry about us we will dig our way out even if it takes us 30 years. Of course for many many others job losses or an irresponsible financial past have caused them to lose their homes. I feel sorry for those who have lost their jobs. I am kinda pissed at people who did stupid shit, but then hey I do stupid shit all time; so I try not to judge too harshly.

Back to the list, California cities make up 4 of the top 5 on this 20 city list. Most of these cities are not far from were we live. And while things are bad here in California, I would like to remind people that this is still California and that this is a pretty sweet place to live even in bad times. So before you other cities get to smug or before my fellow Californians lose hope (or move to Idaho) let me remind you of one things. It was 73 degrees here yesterday, February 6th. That is right, 73 degrees.

How to be Frumpy: The Footware Addition

2011-01-25T08:00:00.000-08:00

My dearest students from this day forward I will refer to you all simply as, Frumpsters. One day I hope you are all able to attain a masterful Frumpy look and these lessons are here to help. Today at Frumpy University we will focus on footware. In order to fully achieve a Frumpy look one must be Frumpy from head to toe. This portion of your Frumpy look is best achieved by utlizing one for the following looks.

The Slippers: one of the best tools for the Frumpster. It is especially effective if your slippers are as filthly as a homeless man's ass.

The Man's Sandel: Keeping with our theme of raiding your man's closet we have men's sandels. For this look the Frumpster can chose the sandels which would be most likely to be found in 1975.

The F-UGG(aka Fake Uggs): This look can take the Frumpster through a long winter in comfortable non-style. Please note that the look is finished with only tucking in pant leg.

The Sock & Sandel Combo: For this look one must double raid their man's closet. The socks used for this look must be either grey toed or striped tube socks.

Remember the Frumpy is a state of mind and a fashion choice. You too can be Frumpy with little to no effort. Just remember the basic tenets of the Bring Back Frumpy Movement: Comfort, Convenience, and Ignore all good taste.

Lost and Found

2011-01-24T08:00:00.001-08:00

Recently there was a story on Yahoo.com and Time.com about a man who found a roll of film in Prospect Park in Brooklyn. He was cross country skying through the park because it was had snowed and he apparently wanted to be really cold. Instead of leaving the film on the ground he takes it with him, develops it and finds some picture which he likes. No, they were not pictures of naked people, they were pictures of a snowy NYC and some people he believes to the European. By posting a video on YouTube this guys hopes to meet the photographers and become friends. He hopes he can visit them in Holland or France or Russia or whatever kind of cool European country they might be from.

Dude, the same thing happened to me. I was walking down in the park one day and the ground was covered in grass, you know because I live in California. And I saw this film canister sitting there on the ground and my first through was, who still have a film camera? Well, I decided to get the roll of film developed, just in case it contained something that I could use for blackmail purposes. Only the people in my photo were not from some place cool like Holland. I am not really sure where they were from, but it looks like the most God awful place ever. They appear to not have heads or maybe they are just shy.

And I think that these people need a maid. I hope they NEVER find me, because I like hiding in the bathroom while I blog.

This is why you proofread your resume

2011-01-21T15:39:00.000-08:00

What is that noise? Do you hear it? It is kind of a weird vibrating, buzzing noise. Seriously, what is that noise? Shhh! Quiet. Listen. Do you hear it?

Crap, it is my iPhone. Why is my game/music player making that noise? Is it time to give the boys their vitamins or time to pick them up from school? Is it time to make dinner? No, clearly it is a phone all. Crap, someone is calling me. Who is calling me on my game/music player? I don't recognise the number. Should I answer it? What if it is someone I know? Nah, not likely. They know me and therefore no longer like me. What if is is someone I don't know, but really should want to talk to? Also, I highly unlikely as a I have grown to love being anti-social and therefore rarely want to speak to humans. Right about now, you are wondering how long my phone rings for before going to voicemail. Honestly, not that long. I just really think at a feverish pace. Shit! What should I do? Answer it.

'Hello'

vague noises, and then a voice or rather a voice in the distance: ' i don't know but there was a mistake and she has been paid ever since.....' more vague noises. I don't say a word. I just listen.

'Angela?' says a man

'No, but close. Wrong number.'

'This is not Angela. You did not send me a resume.'

'No, this is not Angela and I did not send you a resume.'

'Are you sure?'

'Reasonable. I mean I think I would remember a name change and a resume mailing. But, I have been pretty drunk lately. So maybe.'

'What you are kidding?' turns to maker(s) of vague noises and says, 'she says she is not Angela.'

And then they just hang up. Before any real fun can begin. I hardly got to pretend to not be Angela. I hope they call back because I am totally going to be Angela the next time they call.

If you wanted to

2011-01-20T10:31:00.000-08:00

The K-Man: (looking at favorite book: Things That Go) Mommy, that should be your car. You could drive that.

Me: What? The Porche, right? Or the Mercedes. Right? (yes I am insanely familiar with the cars in this book).

The K-Man: (between fits of giggles) No, not those.

Me: Okay, what then. What should I be driving?

The K-Man: A jeep. You could drive a jeep, if you wanted to.

Me: Sure I could drive a jeep. If I wanted to.

The K-Man: When? When are we getting a jeep for you to drive, if you wanted to.

Me: Well, we are just pretending. But maybe some day.

The K-Man: Could you haul chocolate milk in your jeep, if you wanted to?

Me: Um, what? Probably not? What are looking at?

The K-Man: See (shows me picture of tanker truck)

Me: Well that explains the milk hauling. No I will not be hauling chocolate milk. Sorry buddy, but mommy cannot drive a tanker truck. I have the wrong kind of driver's license.

The K-Man: I know. That is why I called it a jeep. You can drive a jeep, right?

Me: Yes, I could drive a jeep, but I cannot drive a tanker truck. And calling a tanker truck a jeep does not make it legal for me to drive it.

The K-Man: Oh. Well what if I bought you a tanker truck when I am older and then you can leave to drive it.

Me: Would I be hauling chocolate milk?

The K-Man: Yes!

Me: Alright, I am in

The K-Man: Yes!!!! (insert fist pumping and jumping for joy here)

Coming in 2021: K-Man's Chocolate Milk delivery

Wordless Wednesday

2011-01-19T15:21:00.000-08:00

Running~ Gettting Started

2011-01-17T20:47:00.000-08:00

Anyone who has known me for any length of time can tell you that I used to despise the very idea of running. My old motto used to be, 'if you see me running, it is no doubt because my ass is no fire'. I thank a life time to cranky gym teachers for this motto. Really, did they need to wear those awful polyester track pants and be SOOOOO mean. Really?

It was not until 6 years ago that I even considered running and even then I refused to run outside or in front of anyone. I was a 100% treadmill runner. But then my kids were born and I got heavier and heavier. I thought that I was simply too fat and too out of shape to run. So, I started out walking and I would walk a little longer each day. I did this off and on for months until I was easily able to walk the distance of a 5K (3.10 miles). Then one day I just started off running and I decided I would run until the next intersection. And that intersection I decided to run to the next intersection and on and on. Before I knew it I had run 2 miles. I could not believe it. My feet believed it and that was when I discovered that socks for running should not be cotton! Holy blisters, Batman!

So, with my new sporty running socks on I set off on my twice weekly runs and I was loving it. I had high hopes of losing weight and maybe meeting some new friends in a running group. I contacted one in my local area, only to be told that I was too slow and need not be bothered in joining. I would be running alone, anyway, said the woman so why bother showing up to the groups runs at all. It was so discouraging. I really let it get me down and I went back to walking. And eating. A couple of weeks later my father in law came up for a visit and I asked him for his advice on improving my running time. He has been running for years and at 60 years of age runs almost daily. I told him what the woman from the local club had said and he laughed, 'she's and idiot! Your goal should be how long you are going to be able to run, not how fast and by how long I mean how many years. All the guys I used to run with who gave me a hard time about being slow are now to broken down to run.'

With this renewed thought in mind I started again and this time I was determined to make a real change in my life. This time I was determined to do it for myself and by myself. I started a mile at time and now my typical run is a 3.14 miles. Don't get me wrong, I am slow. Really, really slow. Only now I really don't give a shit.

If you are interested in starting to run check out the following sites.
The Courage to Start
Cool Running
Runners World

You don't need to join a gym, hire a trainer or go to a boot camp to get fit and lose weight. You can do it yourself. You can find the strength within. I know, not because I done it but because I am doing it. I might stumble and fall along the way, but I am going to get there. And now my motto is, The miracle isn't that I finished. The miracle is that I had the courage to start.(John 'The Penguin' Bingham)

I have no idea

2011-01-16T11:55:00.000-08:00

Lately I have been having issues coming up with something to blog about. Aside from my noble efforts to bring Frumpy Back, I cannot think of what to write about. I think of great things to write. Witty conversations to ~~amplify~~ relate , exciting lists, timely observations about the world around me, you know, the usual. I think of these things at night while I am trying to fall asleep. Basically I am a freakin' genius from 11pm until 11:15pm when my desire for slumber takes me to the land of dreamy-dreamdome. But, once 7am rolls around, I am back to being my normal stupid uninspired self. I try to remember what I was thinking the night before. I even once kept a pad and pen by the bed, but the kids stole it or the cat ate it or I just forgot where I put it. Who freakin' knows, regardless, the ideas are lost. Lost in the abyss that is my child muddled brain.

Until I figure out how to capture my post-slumber genius, I need to figure out a why to get some stuff up on this bad boy. Cuz, I am letting down all 8 of my fans and y'all are the best 8 people in the whole wide world. Never fear, my effort to bring Frumpy back has not ended and I will be adding more Frumpy tips soon. But one cannot live on Frump alone, not even when the Annie Hall look was all the rage. I could do some more memes. When I first heard of memes, I was revolted that they had a cute name and I was doing one of them: Wordless Wednesday. So, I stopped for a while. But like Michael Corleone, they just keep pulling me back in. So, I could do more memes. I could even bring back Haiku Thursday. I mean that was an amazing success. Right? Shut up. It was, too. It was amazing, it was just that people are not ready for Haikus. On. Thursday. Alright, maybe I am not a meme person.

What about prompts? I could do a writing prompt. I met this gal, The Mad Mom at Bloggy Bootcamp who does them with great success on her blog all the time. So I checked out one that she does all the time. It is called, The Red Writing Hood and it is explained here on The Red Dress Club. It too is a meme of sorts,in the form of a writing prompt for the week. I could do that, right? Last weeks prompt was Pantry. Anyway, here is what I came up with: I got some coffee from the pantry and then I drank it. Somehow I don't think that works. I am sure that in some circles, like those were they create stereo instruction manuals, boiling down something into one sentence might be met with great excitement, but I thinking I would just look the fool amongst real literary types. Not really gonna work for me.

Since the end of August I have spent much of free time exercising. Time which I previously spent on blogging. So, I could devote a blog post now and then on that topic. Tips or running tales. Sure, running tales. I could tell you about all the cool stuff I see when I run, um, sure. Like the time I saw a lady walking here dog or the time I saw that man walking his dog or the time I saw that guy run up a hill carrying a chainsaw (okay that was exciting and more than a little terrifying). Maybe running tales would be pretty boring, but weight loss tips might work.

Okay, so that is settled. I have a future in Stereo instruction manual writing and I might share some weight loss tips. Or I'll take the cat to the vet and get that damn notepad back and share my true genius (insert triumphant choir of angels here)

How to be Frumpy: The Clothing Edition

2011-01-13T08:51:00.000-08:00

Yes, that is Frumpy with a capitol F, bitches and I am bringing it BACK!!

I realise that some of you may not know how to be Frumpy and if I am going to bring Frumpy back I need to teach the masses how to be Frumpy. First things first, clothing that actually fits has to go. If you want to be Frumpy you need to look like a grunge rocker who has lost 20lbs. I achieved this part of the Frumpy look by losing 26 lbs and being too broke to buy a whole new wardrobe. You can do it this way or you can just go buy bigger clothing. Either way, in order to be a Frumpy one must never look polished and put together.

In addition to the overall size of ones clothing, in order to be Frumpy it helps to wear clothing that is not best suited for your sex. This is to say, raid your husbands closet to get that great Frumpy look. For the dads/men out there I am not sure that raiding your wife's closet will meet the Frumpy criteria, a man in large woman's clothing is another look all together and while I have no issue with that per say, I just do not feel qualified to offer advice on the topic. In addition to the fine array to over sized clothing one can find in your Hubbers closet you might also be able to find an assortment of mismatched tube socks. This will help to finish off your best Frumpy looks. More on this in the accessory addition to come later.

While on the topic of mismatching, in order to really get that great Frumpy look one must try and mismatch whenever possible. Different shades of the same color is always a way to achieve this look. Think this years black yoga pants with a 5 year old black t-shirt. There is no way in hell that those two are still the same shade of black, so voila mismatch made, outfit complete. In addition one may also match a set of shocking colors together. Think green and yellow! Not even the CEO of Nike can make that shit look good and neither can you. Green and yellow, orange and red, purple and hot pink.... the possibilities for Frumpiness are endless.

In summary, one can achieve the Frump look by simply ignoring all good taste and simply chosing what is most comfortable. I hope you enoyed this first lesson and that you are well on your way to comfort-land, population 1.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-01-05T15:18:00.000-08:00

Justin Timberlake brought sexy back, putting pressure on the rest of us to be sexy all the time, but I realise that we cannot all live under that kind of strain. So, I am single-handedly bringing frumpy back. You can thank me later. Is it just me or is Justin Timberlake kind of an ass for putting us through all this?

New Years Resolution

2011-01-03T08:00:00.000-08:00

Year after year this question inevitably arises: What is your New Year's Resolution? Year after year I am required to explain that I made a resolution in the 5th Grade never to make another New Year's Resolution. Genius really. It takes off all the pressure of making or keeping one. The less savvy among us are forced to come up with something each year, a something that they will usually not be able to live up to. So my savvy (possibly cheating self) is here to help you out. Here are some New Year's resolutions are your sure to keep.

Be mediocre
Practice some hardcore slothfulness
Not to commit murder (if you are in fact a murderer, simply add the word, again to the end of the statement)
Eat something
Sleep at least one hour a night
Avoid water fowl
Run, to the bathroom daily (say that last part really quickly so no one notices)
Eat, Prey, Shove

If these do not give you the much needed easy to achieve New Year's Resolution, might I suggest that Make No More Resolution Resolution thing.

Year In Review

2010-12-31T10:19:00.000-08:00

January: Cold, wet and brought about the end of .blogspot.com here on The Confessions of a Stay at Home Mom

February: Went to party and on the way home was informed that I whine too much about child's problems. What a downer. One a brighter note, Deedle turned two and began his slow and steady progress towards global domination.

March: Announced the creation of Haiku Thursday!

April: Saw the sad death of Haiku Thursday

May: The Mom announces her desire for a mini-van and is mocked by many. Their mocking will end when they see my fancy new car with its magic doors. I should have enough money to buy it some time in 2015.

June: Flew alone to GA with two small boys. Was judged certifiably insane by several individuals at airport. The K Man got bullied for the first time, turned 5 for the first time, lost all his life long friends for the first time, and got the best damn teacher ever! I share a recent sad truth with a friend who then announces it to all the judgemental people I had hoped to keep it from. Heartbreak galore.

July: The city in which we live chose celebrate the 4th of July with a Journey cover band. The search for a new town begins. I soon learn people now actually like Journey. WTF?

August: I turn 39 and a new leaf.

September: After a mild summer it is 104 degrees and it sucks.

October: The K-Man gets a second teacher, also the best damn teacher ever....is this even possible. Gregory Harrison may or may not have actually commented on my blog because I said he was still hot. I stand by my diagnosis of hotness and welcome Mr. Harrison to the blog any time.

November: The TSA starts grabbing our asses and no one takes my Barry White in the background advice for making the situation tolerable and maybe even pleasurable. Stupid dumb heads

December: Here on the last day of December I am 25 lbs lighter and a thousand times stronger. To a point this was a pretty sucktastic year, but it pulled its shit together in September and came back stronger than ever. Way to go for the win in the 4th Quarter 2010, you rock!!!!

The Warning Signs

2010-12-17T13:23:00.000-08:00

In order to pretty protect the citizens of Casa De Mom, we have developed this color coded warning system. Please be alert to the current threat level. We are currently at non so pink, pink. So things are pretty okay. Due to recent chatter on the child front we expect to be at level red or FUBAR in no time at all.

Stupid Head

2010-12-16T13:19:00.000-08:00

Over the course of the last year I have come to the conclusion that my body is trying to kill me. Specifically I think that my reproductive organs have decided to drive me to off the deep end one arduous menstrual cycle at a time. Right off the bat, let me explain my uterus has long been a manipulative bitch. She causes trouble and draws unwanted attention to herself until she gets what she wants, which is usually vicodin or chocolate or vicodin covered strawberries dipped in chocolate. Regardless she always gets what she fucking wants while my lungs and feet are just drug along for the ride, helpless victims to her every whim and fancy. Of course my ovaries are her primary facilitator in this long drawn out co-dependent relationship. Again me and the rest of my body parts are just along for the fucking ride, unable to get off this hormonal express.

Recently my uterus has stepped up her assault by soliciting my head in her plot to bring about my downfall. Every month without fail I suffer from PMS induced migraines and this month for the first time I am joylessly experiencing DM (d is for during) migraines. Basically I am walking ball of pain and barfiness. If not for my actual need of a head I would cut the damn thing off. Off it would roll and a brief moment I would feel no more head pain, but then I would remember that I no longer had a head and I would probably be pissed off.

I would gladly rip the whole system out, but my doctor has these things called morals and she will not just take out healthy body parts. Stupid morals. Stupid head. Stupid uterus.

A Very Merry McDougal Christmas

2010-12-10T08:00:00.000-08:00

Here is the annual McDougal Chrismas letter. The McDougal's are a fictional family of my own creation. We all get tons of Christmas letters each year and they only show the glossy side of life. My good, fake friend Mo, only tells the truth.

Hello Friends and Family,

Has it been a year since I sat down to right our annual Christmas missive? It hardly seems possible. Oh my word, the McDougal’s have had an exciting if not challenging year. Things seemed so hopeful last year what with Frank retiring, Justin moving back home, Emily getting her dream job in Claxton, and Little Max getting paroled. Well, it seems that things do not always go as smoothly as one might hope.

Frank continues to enjoy his retirement, having taken up newt watching and elf carving. One would not expect to find many newts, but it keeps Frank occupied for most of the day and sometimes late into the night. The elf carving is a new hobby indeed and Frank is considering traveling our proud nation to exhibit his crafts. He is blessed to have found a mentor in Edna Mellbottoms. You all surely remember Edna from her days as the head checker at Piggly Wiggly. In addition to being the best darn checker Piggly Wiggly ever employed, Edna is also a heck of an elf carver and has also shown some interested in newt watching. Edna has been a true blessing to Frank and me, especially given present unfortunate incarceration.

You might remember that last year our oldest ended his marriage to his high school sweetheart Samantha. Justin being all sweetness and no anger gave Samantha the house they once shared together and moved back in with us, at Crescent Way. While we enjoyed having him to home the constant crying proved to be too much for Frank’s nerves. His nerves being shot from his days at the extract factory. So, Justin had to move back in with Samantha and her new husband Gunter. Things seem to being going well. Samantha and Gunter have a full basement and Justin has been able to make himself at home down there with all the cats. Luckily the crying does not carry as badly in their cinder block home as it did in ours.

Emily was unable to maintain the needed level of excellence that the citizens of Claxton have come to expect from their Eye on Claxton news team. She too has returned to the roost. Luckily there is far less crying from Emily and she was recently taken on the challenge of the new frontier of Public Access TV. Emily has been able to create such shows as Cooking with Carl Marx and Fishing with Earl. Everyone is more than pleased with this new source of entertainment. I hear they even tune in down at the pool hall.

Luckily Max we able to obtain a parole! Sadly the rate of recidivisms is very high on fish kidnappers and Max found himself in trouble with the law all over again. Why they do not have better security at catfish farms is beyond me. If you ask me they are asking to have those darn fish stolen. Oh well, there is always next time.

As always, I save myself for last. Many of you may be aware that I have had some legal woes of my own this past year. What I thought was orchid feed was indeed marijuana and in large enough quantities to warrant my arrest and subsequent imprisonment. I now reside for the time being at the Marion Walters State Prison for Women. I have been here for almost 6 months and for the life of me I still cannot figure out who Marion Walter’s actually is, but she put together a pretty nice place. I have a nice room that I share with my roomie, Deborah (or Deb as she prefers to be called). Deborah is a rather large woman who may or may not have stabbed a series of bartenders in the foot. Deborah is adamant that she IS NOT the Tootsie Popper, but I fear that she just might be the notorious criminal. She was after all caught in the act and convicted. In addition to Deborah’s fine company I also get three meals a day that I do not have to prepare myself! Most of my days are spent in the prison laundry ironing the dishrags, but I hope to one day move up to a bleach handler. Frank, Justin and Emily get in to see me as often as they can and I get the occasional letter from Max via the inter-penitentiary mail.

My lawyer is hopeful that Interpol will find my gardening mentor, Jade and that Jade will be able to explain how this horrible mistake was made in the first place. Keep your fingers crossed! Well, it is almost time for lights outs and tomorrow we have the big Christmas parade.

Love and hugs,

Mo McDougal

A Love Note

2010-12-08T08:00:00.000-08:00

Honey~

Here it the list of Christmas Card photos from which you may choose.

112710-5 The one where I look like Nero Wolf
112710-10 The one where the Deedle is crying
112710-9 The one where you are sneering at the Deedle, I can only assume this is why he is crying in number 10
112710-15 The one where the K-Man is obviously counting on his fingers. I can only assume he is counting the number of days until he can move out on his own.
112710-13 The one where I actually look really good, but your eyes are closed and the boys are fighting.

I would strongly suggest that your pick number 13.

Love,

Amy

P.S. I have PMS and access to knives.

History

2010-12-07T16:02:00.000-08:00

My mom was a witness to the bombing of Pearl Harbor. She was ten at the time and her step-father (only father really, so we rarely make the distinction) was station there. That morning dawned like any other for my then 10-year old mother. Sadly it would have been another day of abject neglect as my grandmother was among other things a raging drunk and a serially unfaithful to her husband. Instead it was a day of standing on the front lawn watching bombs fall, a day of smelling smoke, and a day of wondering where daddy was and hoping he was alright. My grandfather's ship was on maneuvers that day, out of harms way. This fact NEVER sat well with my grandfather. He deeply regretted not being on base that day.

My mother and grandmother fled Honolulu and retreated to the home of a friend who lived in the mountains. My grandmother and many other believed strongly that the island would be invaded by the Japanese at any moment; and apparently they were laboring under the misconception that the Japanese would not be able to find them if they went up hill. For a time, life came to a standstill, school was cancelled and military family members were given gas masks and other protective equipment(this consisted mostly of sanitary pads which were to used as bandages). My mother missed most of the 5th grade and she got in big trouble for leaving that gas mask in the movie theater.

It has been 69 years since the attack on Pearl Harbor and sadly more and more of people who remember that time are fading away. My grandparents died years ago, and my mother is pretty fuzzy on the details. I only know the story so well because I used to bring my mother to school for show and tell every time was covered this part of American history.

Burn, Baby Burn

2010-12-06T08:00:00.000-08:00

Dear Neighbors and Those Living in My General Vicinity,

As you are no doubt aware of, by your own return address, we live in California. For those un-initiated into the California experience, let me assure you that one of the reason we all live here is because of the weather. It is currently early December and the talk here is all about rain, not snow, not sleet, not ice, but RAIN and little else. This talk will not get much worse, we might have a hard frost, but that is about it. In the higher elevations, they do get snow(and those people are exempt from the upcoming rant), but for most of us it is just rain. The temps will be in the 50's, 40's and the occasional 30's. Again compared to many parts of the country, this is incredibly mild weather and basically this is why we all deal with insanely high property costs and an even more insanely run government (think the last days of the Greek Empire, but with more whining).

This brings me to my point and yes I have one(insert shocked look here). If the weather here is so mild, then why does it seem like everyone within a 20 mile radius of my house lights up their wood burning fireplace the second the temperature drops down to 60 degrees? Why? For the love of all the is holy, please tell me why. Because I am sick of smelling the burning wood. It drives me crazy. Do you want to know how many times we have used out fireplace in the 6 years we have lived here, ZERO times? I don't even know if the damn thing works. For real, we have central heat, and we really need nothing more than that and a sweater. The power rarely goes out here because we live near an airport and two large national labs. They need the lights on, so the rest of use get some damn fine power service.

The environment and lung factors aside, we have also have this thing in California called Fire Season (it is less of a season and more of an omni-present threat really), and I find it very alarming to smell smoke and not know if it is coming from my chilly neighbor or from a brush fire. Sure if it is raining I know what has caused the smell, but on a day with dry and windy conditions, one really has to take pause and wonder: destruction fire or warmth fire or both as these things can get out of hand.

So, I beg, nee implore all to just grab a sweater and save us all a little fresh breathing air. And the next person burning a wood fire on a spare the air day with the Prius parked outside get turned in directly to Al Gore. I am serious, Al Gore!

Sincerely,

Coughy McCougherson

Dear Santa

2010-12-02T16:09:00.000-08:00

The K-Man: I am going to write a letter to Santa (he declares as he pulls his Thomas chair up to the coffee table)

Me: Great, need some help.

The K-Man: Can you write it on the computer?

Me: Sure, but why don't you also draw a picture for Santa to go with the typed letter.

The K-Man: Okay, good. But you have to do the chit-chat.

Me: The What?

The K-Man: The Chit-Chat. In the letter, the Chit-Chat.

Me: What? Stuff like: How is Mrs Claus or is Donner feeling better. That kind of thing?

The K-Man: Yes, the Chit-Chat.

Me: Em, okay. (I type away at the Chit-Chat)

The K-Man: I want a Black Shipping Truck, some hot wheels and a bicycle. Only three things. One, two three.

Me: Well let me finish the Chit-Chat.

The K-Man: (Stares at me like I am some kind of simpleton). Three things. One, two, three. A shipping a truck, hot wheels cars and a bicycle.

Me: Okay, three things. Got it. Go do you picture while I finish the Chit-Chat.

He returns with the picture which depicts him driving the black shipping truck. I think that somehow the world's best Chit-Chat is not going to cover the particular request.

My Motivation

2010-12-01T08:00:00.002-08:00

For those who follow me on Twitter and here on my blog, you know that over the last three months I have exercising and leading a healthier lifestyle. As a result I have lost over 20 pounds. Several people have requested that I share what keeps me motivated. Here are some the basic things that I have been doing.

If I exercise I can eat 1700 calories (I use myfitnesspal.com to track every bite I eat), but I do not exercise I only allow myself 1200 calories. That is a huge motivational factor in my eating and exercising patterns.
As for my motivation to run, that is pretty easy. I burn more calories in a shorter period of time than I do by just walking. Plus I can be smug and runnery, so that helps.
When I started running, I set some goals for myself. Goal number one was to run a mile without vomiting. You should not expect too much at first and allow for the fact that your body needs to adjust to anything that is new. After goal number one came the goal to run 2 miles without vomiting and then 3 miles. Once I got to the point were I could easily run 3.1 miles (a 5K), then I started working on running that distance in a shorter period of time. When I started I was averaging 17 minutes per mile and now I average about 13 minutes per mile.
When you feel temptation coming on, like say at a kids birthday party, just imagine all the time you will have to spend working out to get rid of that cake and suddenly the cake looks pretty yucky.
Another motivating factor in weight loss. Looking better than that asshole who pisses you off. For real nothing is better than that!

I am on myfitnesspal.com and if anyone wants to be my friend over their just send me a email at green0monkeeatgmaildotcom.

Thanksgiving Re-Cap

2010-11-30T08:00:00.001-08:00

After much thought and consideration, I believe that Thanksgiving is nothing more than a male created holiday. Let's look at this ladies, we cook all day making a cornucopia of heavy foods which harken back to a thoroughly misogynistic time while the men in our lives watch football. Football, people, football. Football games which are chock-full of beer ads, which contain little more than tits. Once the work is done and the meal is served the men venture into the dining room to wolf down what took days to create. With the last slice of pumpkin pie comes the return of football and what do we women do; we go back into the kitchen to clean up. We clear the table, scrap the plates, load the dishwasher, scrub the pots and pans. And tomorrow we will unload the dishwasher, and wash all the table linens. Some of us will even have to iron those linens before they are put up for next year.

Well, ladies I say that next year we tell the men in our lives to just suck it. Let them either take us out or let them do the cooking, cuz we are on strike. Or better yet, let's all just collectively go to Las Vegas on Thanksgiving for cocktails and mail strippers!

Who is with me????

Top Ten Things I Hate About Thanksgiving

2010-11-26T08:00:00.000-08:00

Again, I have no fresh ideas. I am without reservation a one trick pony. I also did a list like this last year and it was so freaking good I thought I would just re-post it this year and then I started to feel all guilty. So I decided to do a new one, so really it is just the idea that is recycled and recycling is good!!

10. Family: For the love of all that is good and holy, how much more of these people can I take. Did I mention that my pudgy cousin got a boob job, bitch.

9. Cooking: For real too much time is spent in the kitchen to create stuff that is going to be consumed and turned into poo.

8. My New Laptop has turned on me caused second degree thigh burns. I guess 12-hours of SIMS 3 was a mistake.

7 and 6. Hangovers and Small Children. And by hangover, I don't mean the movie; I mean the real thing. Holy Fuck-Balls, someone shut those kids up, my head is pounding.

5. Wine stains, Cab teeth and other wine related hangover issues. Club soda for the stains, right.

4. The rum cake has migrated to my ass and now I have to run 45 miles.

3. Family: For real enough already

2. The wine: did I mention that too much wine upsets my stomach.

1. Having to hold my pudgy cousins hair extensions while she pukes up all the fucking wine.

Thanksgiving Greetings

2010-11-25T08:00:00.000-08:00

Wordless Wednesday~Thankful Addition

2010-11-24T08:00:00.000-08:00

I supremely thankful for my family. These three guys have taught me more about love then I can ever express in mere words.

Top Ten Reasons Why I Love Thanksgiving

2010-11-23T08:00:00.000-08:00

I did a post about what I love about Thanksgiving last year and this year will be no different. What can I say? I am a one trick pony. Plus this is holiday week and you have to expect some re-runs.

10. Family: Nothing better than being in the warm glow of family, especially when you have recently lost weight and can rub it in the face of your stuck up pudgy cousins (insert evil laughter here)

9. Cooking: I like to cook, so for me this is game time.

8. My new laptop: upon which I will play SIMS 3 while everyone else watches the USC game. Did I mention no one that we know went to USC and I don't fucking know why we watch the dame game every year. For my East Coast friends, I refer to the Trojans, not the Gamecocks.

7. Small children, large drum sticks and thoughts of Christmas.

6. The alcohol. For real check out My Veggie Table for a series of cranberry juice cocktails and I mean real cocktails, not the Ocean Spray cocktail which just means a mixture of cranberries, mine have actual vodka in them.

5. The Wine: No I don't have a problem. Do you? Yes, I am totally buying a #wineparty tank top, so what.

4. The Rum Cake: No problems here, it is made with rum extract. This is the best cake ever, but the recipe is a sworn secret that is shared with no one, not even me. But I can still eat it.

3. Family: Did I mention that already? Gotta love family.

2. The Wine

1. The change to watch my pudgy cousin hit on oddly shaped tree after too much wine!!!

Tips for the TSA

2010-11-22T08:00:00.001-08:00

Over the past week or so the TSA has taken some heat for their X-Ray we see you naked scans and their labia/testicle searches. I am not here to debate if this should be happening, this is not that kind of blog. I am here to suggest some ways that the TSA might make this a more pleasurable experience for us all.

We Put the Sizzle in Safety: This could be the new slogan for the TSA. Whether it be an image of the fiery loins of last Christmas's underpants bomber or the gentle tug of a gloved hand on your buttocks, I think the imagery is astounding.
TSA Bartenders: Who doesn't like or expect to be groped in a night club. What we need to do is dress this damn pig up a bit! Put a positive spin on things. Speaking of spin:
TSA DJs: Spread some of LAs finest DJs around the nation to spin some hot tunes while people get their grope on. Might I suggest a little Al Green. He always gets me in the mood.
Ladies Hour!: From 8am to 9am ladies get free cocktails served by their TSA bartender. Might I suggest that these bartenders be ripped, hot and between the ages of 18-25. I am just thinking this might put the over ladies at ease.
Hire this guy. Only hire a couple because the line would be way long and filled with woman and maybe a couple of gay guys.

Disco Ball: Really does this require an explanation.
Restaurant Gift Cards: To be given to all those exiting the screening area because I know I like to get a free meal out of it after I get fucked.

Please keep in mind that this is the kind of blog were hot men like Clive Owen and Gregory Harrison are going to be objectified by me and possibly other women. Yes, this is that kind of blog.

That Girl

2010-11-19T08:00:00.000-08:00

The above photo is me and friend doing something or rather waiting for something to happen in high school. I would guess we are 14 or 15 years old in this photo. I have blacked out my classmates image because she is now married to a gentrified land owner in a small Caribbean nation where the locals often wish her and his family ill will. I added the smiley face because the black blob alone seemed odd. Having a classmate who married an overlord from a small Caribbean nation, not odd apparently.

A couple of weeks ago an old classmate added some photos to her Facebook page and I was tagged in one. That alone is not so odd. I had a rather large high school class(around 500 or so) and being involved with the drama club and drama productions left me appearing in a fair number of photos at that time. What caught my attention was her caption for the picture: I don't know when or where this was taken-R.P. (edited to remove photographer's name) took it- He obviously had an appreciation for beautiful women. After reading the caption I went to check on the photo, feeling certain that she had made an error. My maiden name was a very common name and with the first name Amy there was usually several of us floating around at the same time and I have never been the sort of woman/girl one would call beautiful. Maybe cute, maybe on a good day kind of pretty, but NEVER beautiful. Much to my surprise it was in fact a photo of me. A much much younger me, but still me. I stared at the photo for some time. Trying to remember when it was taken. Trying to remember what was happening at that time. I cringed over the hair, make-up and I started to criticize the image; when it hit me: I was beautiful.

But never in my life have I ever felt beautiful. Honestly not once. Why did my 15 year old self not see herself as something other than ugly and stupid? Well, for most of that young 15 year old person's life she was told she was ugly and stupid. And I don't mean that someone once told me I was chubby or someone once told me I look unattractive. I mean my mother told me directly on multiple occasions that I was ugly, fat and stupid (the Trifecta of low self-esteem). Many years have passed since the last time I allowed my mother to speak to me this way. Okay, not that many. It has been 6 years since I allowed my mother to speak to me in this way. In those 6 years, I have forgiven her for her actions. She did the best she could given her own horridly fucked up childhood and in many ways her actions were an unconscious attempt to not lose me, to keep me at home with her forever. Now when the conversation takes a turn for the worst I simply stop it.

Despite my reconciliation of her words and actions, the scars still remain. I have honestly never looked in the mirror and seen a beautiful woman looking back at me. No matter how often my husband assures me, that I am beautiful, I cannot fully believe him. His image of me is tempered by love, I always say to myself. But this picture and that caption have me rethinking it all. I am thinking that not only was I beautiful then, but that I might just be beautiful now, too. Sometimes you just need to see yourself through someone else's eyes to see what is really there.

Would You? Could You?

2010-11-18T08:00:00.000-08:00

The other night the Hubbers and I were discussing what we would and would not do for $1 Billion. Well, it started what we would do for $5000. My husband was shocked to find out that I would do almost nothing for $5000. Seriously in today's dollar, $5000 is chump chain I reasoned. Upping the ante, I asked he would eat a turd for $5000. He was sure that he would. I stated without reserve that I would not. Upping the ante again he asked would I do it for $1 Billion. Again, I said no. I don't think that I would be able to do anything of the sort. Not for any amount of money. Sure I would run naked down Fifth Ave for $1 Billion dollars. I would eat raw meat for $1 Billion dollars. I would even force myself to sleep with Clive Owen for $1 Billion dollars, but I would not be willing to eat a turd. Not even with ketchup.

I asked my twitter friends how they felt about this question and they were pretty equally divided. Some would and some would not. So I ask you inter-web. What would you do for $1 Billion? Would you eat a turd? Would you run naked down a busy street? Would you sleep with Clive Owen? What would you be willing to do?

Correction: My husband has requested that I make it clear that he would not, could not eat a turd for $5000. $1 Billion yes, but $5000, NO. I stand corrected and I profoundly apologize for any harm I may have cause the Hubbers and his family (oh wait, that is me).

Wordless Wednesday

2010-11-17T08:00:00.000-08:00

Remember when I said I was not going to do Wordless Wednesday or any Meme for that matter. Well, I lied. I am a liar and my pants are on fire.

but I can still celebrate Autumn. Who says we don't have seasons in California?

Inventions That Should Be

2010-11-16T08:00:00.000-08:00

As a parent there are several things that I think should be invented. Now, if these things have been invented, let me know because I want them. If you are talented enough to invent them, then go ahead. I ask only that you speak of me kindly and get the damn link correct.

GPS for sippie cups: How often have you lost a beverage filled sippie cup only to find it hours, days, weeks or months later? In the case of our milkaholic(The Deedle) milk filled sippies cups found long after lost often have to be tossed directly into the trash. Never lose a sippie cup again with The Ba-Ba Locator
Suspenders for Pregnant woman: For real, when you are pregnant those damn pants never freaking stay up. I was forever pulling the damn things up. You could have red ones, clear ones and even rainbow Mork from Ork ones. Never lose your britches again with Clip Ups for Cervical Slip Ups.
Grown Up TV filter: Now by grown up TV, I mean programs like NCIS or CSI. This would protect against programs too gruesome or contextually mature for children. If you wish to filter porn, you need to get a lock for your door. But to filter the more minor prime time shows, try The Sesameizer. The Sesamizer will turn any prime time cop drama into an episode of Elmo is Grouchland when filtered through the eyes of a youngster.
Sippie Cup Bungee cord: This item causes a sippie dropped from a moving car or stroller to bounce back into the hands of the offending dropper (ahem~ Deedle I am looking at you). This would stop mom or dad from having to stop and pick up the cup or better yet this would stop a jogging mom from tripping over the dropped cup. Never trip up again, with Sip Be Up, the Sippie Cup Bungee Cord.
A Mischief Alarm: Tired of actually having to keep an eye on your children. Never fear, the Mischief Sniffer is here. This device will alert you the minute your child begins to wave that old crutch in the air dangerously near the ceiling fan.
Mother New Little Helper~Children's Valium: Kids strung out, day to day life got them down, too much candy, too much Yo-Gabba-Gabba winding them up. Never fear, Palium(Diazapram) is here. That is right child strength Valium in convenient chewable V shaped gummies.

Return of Project Big Ass Reduction

2010-11-12T13:41:00.000-08:00

Right off the bat, let me say hello to those individuals to come to my blog by searching the words: BIG ASS MOM, BIG ASS, BIG ASS TRAFFIC or any variation of the sort. Hey guys! I am assuming you are all guys. I applaud you for your love of the big ass-ed woman, but I again have to suggest you instead search the terms: Kim and Kardashian. I think you might be happier with what you discover. Again, thanks for stopping by and good luck you to!

For those who have been stopping by since the beginning and are not looking for images of the big ass-ed woman or for images of ass traffic (shudder~shudder), you know that I have been struggling with my weight for some time. Over the last six years since I got pregnant with the K-Man I have gained more weight than I care to admit and I lost the same 8 pounds over and over and over and over again in the time as well. Sadly my efforts were continually stymied by depression, pregnancy and a series of co-dependent "friendships" which revolved around eating, drinking and little else.

On my 39th birthday I really hit rock bottom. For the first time in 5 years I spent that birthday with just my family. It was a very depressing proposition that save for perfunctory Facebook Happy Birthdays, my birthday went completely unnoticed by the group of friends I had once been so close to. There was no dinner with friends, no celebration with friends, no movie with friends. Oh wait, there was one card that made fun of my general appearance, but I was not even sure that was for my birthday. I think it was just to cause pain and confusion. Anyway, as the day approached I waited in dread. I ate, I cried, and I moped around the house. I was general pain in the ass to live with. Then the day came and it dawned on me that none of that other stuff matter, none of those other people mattered. The only people I really needed to worry about were right where they belonged, they were at my side. On the day, that I turned 39, I decided to change some things with myself. Because no matter how hard I try I cannot change anyone else. I cannot make people be nice. I cannot make people be honest with me. I cannot make anyone do anything. Okay, I can make the Deedle do some things, but even those days are numbered.

So, I decided to start treating myself better. I decided to start eating right and exercising and soon the depression went away. I decided that at 39 I was happy with the family I had and the thought/threat of future pregnancies went away. I decided that I would no longer participate in social situations which are solely about food and soon the rest of the pain went away. And a new stronger me began to emerge.

Here is what I once looked like:

This was from some time last fall and it was probably one of the few full body photos taken of me.

This is from right before October. This was two months after I begin using myfitnesspal.com to track my food and workouts. I joined MFP on August 29th and in that time I have dropped 19.5 pounds. I have exercised every day no matter what. I have exercised with a migraine. I have exercised after a nasty fall. I have exercised through minor injuries (non-falling variety). I have exercised the day of and the day after surgery. I have exercised while sick with a stomach bug and while battling a bad cold. I have exercised over 75 days in a row and I have honestly not felt this strong and healthy since moving back to California in 2005.

Up In Smoke

2010-11-03T08:48:00.000-07:00

Dear California Voter,

In the future if you are going to vote Jerry Brown and Gavin Newsome into state wide office would you please be so kind as to vote YES on any initiative(s) that involves decriminalizing marijuana. Because right now I really need to get high and stay that way for the foreseeable future and now the only thing I have at my disposal is cough syrup. Fuck!

Sincerely,

The Mom

Crushes without Eyeliner, Mostly

2010-10-28T13:06:00.000-07:00

Someone mentioned Shaun Cassidy on twitter today. I am not really exactly sure what they were referencing as I was too lazy to check, but I was not too lazy to remember the warm tingly feeling I used to get from Shaun Cassidy. I was just a wee girl of 6, but wow I knew what dreamy was and Shaun Cassidy was mega-dreamy. I even had a Shaun Cassidy t-shirt that I wore with distinction and honor. I was envy of almost every 6 yr old girl in Thomaston, GA.

Over the years my taste changed and as is often the case my crushes mirrored popular culture. Hot on the heels of Shaun Cassiday came Han Solo fresh from an outer galaxy known as Hollywood. Of course I was again just a wee girl, but even as wee girl I knew that Luke Skywalker was not for kissing. He was comfortably in the friend zone and the poor thing would stay there loveless and relatively unkissed for the next three movies. Han Solo on the other hand was just the right mixture of good looking and rugged rogue to get the heart pumping. As quickly has Han Solo had a place in my heart he was replaced by Gregory Harrison! OMG, he player Gonzo Gates on Trapper John MD. Now, I am not really sure what a 10 yr old girl was doing watching Trapper John MD to begin with, but nonetheless watch it I did. I have to admit that even after all these years, I still kinda find Gregory Harrison hot.

It was around the age of 11 that things got serious as far as crushes went, because this was when the celebrity crushes became intermingled with the real life crushes. I won't name any names regarding the real life crushes, but I can tell you one thing, they were all TALL. Life was a hard as a 5'5"tall and still growing 11 year old girl. Of course the celebrity crushes were also on men over the height of 5'10" (somethings transcend real life and fiction). By 11, I was firmly and unabashedly in love with Duran Duran front man, Simon LeBon. Really seriously firmly and unabashedly in love with Simon LeBon. Every inch of the walls in my bedroom were covered with Duran Duran posters. I was member of the Duran Duran fan club. Every cent from my allowance went into purchasing Duran Duran merchandise and records (yes actually round records). I even sent Simon a birthday card every year, on October 27 (fuck yes I still remember although I no longer send a card~sorry Simon). This crush lasted longer than all the others. At least straight threw to 9th or 10th grade.

By the time I got to high school crushes were replaced by actual live boys who actually asked me out and then tried to do anything to separate me from my panties. Looking back I probably should have stuck with Simon, it would have been far less tiring.

Commercials that Need to End

2010-10-25T09:29:00.000-07:00

Usually I do not watch commercials because we have this amazing thing called a DVR. So I tape most the shows that I want to watch and then I watched them at my convenience all the while fast forwarding through the commercials. But from time to time I find myself having to watch a program LIVE. Usually the morning news (i.e. The Today Show with the occasional interruption from the local news) and of course my husband insists on watching sporting evens live (something about not wanting to know what happened or it being more exciting). Thus in these instances I find myself a typical consumer, having my life interrupted at the whim of advertising agencies and TV executives. Now more commercials I find boring and stupid and I totally tune them out. Occasionally there are funny ones, like the E-Trade commercials with the talking babies. Those crack me up every damn time. But time of year what I really do not look forward to are the horror film commercials which appear both during the Today Show and most sporting events. I mean really, the Today Show is not frightening enough, now you have to show commercials for devil movies, too. Is Ann Curry constantly saying thoughtless stupid things NOT horrifying enough?

These commercials are horrible for me. I hate horror movies, hate them. I was scared as a child by watching The Exorcist and there was no going back. I especially hate that all these movies now seem to have some sort of disjointed spooky creepy walking ghoul in them now. We can thank the Ring for that one. Really, was that necessary Hollywood. Was it? Wasn't a guy in hockey mask with a axe enough? And now they have to remake them, too. The old Halloween was not enough, it needs to be scarier. The old Freddy Krueger not scary enough, it needs to be scarier. Opps, Linda Blair hoovering over a bed and molesting crucifixes, not scary enough, we need new exorcism movies.

Still the commercials, they have to go. Really life if frightening enough without that shit being on before 8pm and please commercial makers and programmers keep in mind this little thing called a time difference. Sure it might be 8pm on the East Coast, but out here in little old California it is still only 5pm and really do not want to explain melting heads to my children.

A Shear Drop

2010-10-21T15:06:00.000-07:00

‘How come I end up where I started? How come I end up where I went wrong?’ These lyrics run through my mind as I drive home. Moments earlier I had been actually enjoying myself by simply participating in an adult conversation with two other moms at the K-Man’s school. I felt comfortable. I laughed. I responded. I smiled. To anyone around me, I probably seemed ‘normal’ and for those few moments I felt ‘normal’. But back in the car, back with my memories, back with myself, the dread sets in and I wonder: Why am I doing this again? ‘How come I end up where I started? How come I end up where I went wrong?’

In the space of about nine months I went from having what I thought was a close and loving group of friends to having no one who will return my e-mails, phone calls or texts. From Pal to Persona Non Grata in Nine Months could easily be the title of this chapter in my life. I am not sure how or why this happened. It could have been an, out of sight out of mind thing. It could have been a, damn you are annoying and we are done with you thing. It could have been a, that K-Man’s awesome behavior is just too bizarre for our kids kind of thing. I don’t know and most of me does not care, but what I do know is that it really hurt. It hurt a lot to suddenly just be forgotten by people I cared so much about. Frankly in the end I am better off for this loss. I am not depressed and feeling miserable about myself for the first time in almost 5 years and there is only one thing about my life which has changed.

So here I am again in a position to be friendly with another group of women and I just do not know if can, or want to do that again. I am left wondering: ‘How come I end up where I started? How come I end up where I went wrong?’

A big thanks to Radiohead for yet again creating the soundtrack of my life.

I'll Pencil You In

2010-10-18T11:36:00.000-07:00

I have gone from posting almost everyday to posing almost once a week, it that. There, there interweb, I have not forgotten you. You are still my bestest friend, you have gotten me through more than one scrape, like that time I got gum in my hair or the entire last fucking rotten year. It is you interweb, that I love the most. I have not forgotten you, but life is just getting in the way. Here is an example of my current schedule.

9am-drop kids at preschool
9am to 11:45am workout, clean house, run errand, take shower to prevent odor
12noon- pick up kids from preschool
12:05pm- drop off K-Man at at speech class, but first shove many high protein snakes in his mouth
12:08pm- return home to feed the Deedle only to spend the next two hours keeping him awake and occupied as this is his normal nap time.
2:15pm-pick up the K-Man from speech class
2:20pm- return home, feed K-Man, wrestle over tired Deedle into crib.
Spend rest of day playing with K-Man, making dinner, bathing children, and collapse.

There is little time of blogging, but I endeavour to keep it up. I was thinking this would be easier if Steve Jobs just gave me a lap top. Listen Steve, I promise no more mock turtle neck jokes and I will make you some really yummy vegan food. Do you like celery?

Oh Crackers

2010-10-13T17:46:00.000-07:00

K-Man: What's the name of that song?

Me: Why Don't We Do it in the Road?

K-Man: Do what?

Me: Um (mild panic setting in~not ready for discussions involving sex in the road) eat crackers! (pats self on back for brilliant quick thinking)

K-Man: Crackers? That's crazy!!

Me: I know, right?

K-Man: Is it because they are beetles?

Me: I would expect that had something to do with it.

The Mom's Top Ten Torture Tips

2010-10-07T15:04:00.000-07:00

Like most of you I am tired of the US Government taking its torture tips from Jack Bauer. First of all, Uncle Sam, Jack Bauer is not a real person. Of course neither is Uncle Sam, so one can see were the lines between real and fake could easily become blurred. Regardless, I think that it is time for the Government to get some tips form people who really know about torture: MOMS. That is right. Your average mom is tortured day in and day out both by her spouse and by her children. Here are my top ten suggestions for how to effectively and almost humanly torture. They are sure to make the Spanish Inquisition cringe.

10. Repeat the same inane question over and over and over and over and over again to your captive until they crack or their ears bleed, whichever comes first. Might I suggest the classic, 'are we there yet?'

9. Force them to watch the same episode of Dora the Explorer, Wonder Pets or Telletubies on a continuous loop from 5am in the morning until 8pm at night. You may also substitute with Yo Gabba Gabba.

8. Have them mop an 10x10 foot room with real mop and a real bucket until it shines. Then drop a pound of sugar, a gallon of Kool-Aid and a dozen eggs in the middle of said floor and watch them fold like cheap suit.

7. Tell them they get to take their first solo shower in 8 months and then open to shower door every 10 seconds and ask, 'watcha doing?' over and over and over and over again.

6. Make them cook an elaborate meal, have them set the table just so, allow to sit down and as they start to eat, ask them to get up and get you something. Repeat until their meal is cold and then demand they start your bath.

5. Enlist them in a system of carpool drop-offs and pick-ups so complex that it would make Tom Clancy's brain bleed. Then make them do it in a station wagon with malfunctioning windows and no attenna.

4. Force them to sit through weeks of allergy testing under the guise of proper healthcare. They will be poked dozens on times with small razor blades containing itch inducing ingredients, forced to sit still for 30 minutes WITHOUT scraping and then told that the test was null and void because of their delicate terrorist skin.

3. Strap them into a car, drive them down a boring stretch of highway and force to listen to the Wiggles for 10 hours strait while someone kicks the back of their seat constantly.

2. Never let them poop alone, in fact stand directly to their right asking repeatedly if you can flush the toilet for them the entire they are trying to go.

1. Wake them up ever two hours demanding milk and a diaper change.

Just When You're Thinkin' Things Over

2010-09-23T18:15:00.000-07:00

As you have no doubt noticed, I have a rather vivid imagination. An imagination which is prone to running away with me. Almost literally, galloping the country side in search of things more interesting then the TV, the Radio, or whatever boring conversation I am doomed to participate in. Think thought bubble containing clips from Steam Willy and you will see how I make it through the most mundane of situations.

Earlier this week I had the misfortune of having to go to the dentist. I don't find the dentist to be particularly painful and as I grew up in an area with water that heavily fluoridated I hardly ever have any cavities. What I hate about the dentist is the fact that I have to sit there for an hour with nothing to do. Nothing to read, no iPhone, no Internet, no conversations. Nothing. It is one hour of mind numbing boredom. That is why I loved my dentist in Atlanta. He had TVs in the ceiling. He was my fucking hero. For real Dr. Roger Abbot, you live in Atlanta, go to him. He has TVs in the ceiling and he his ridiculous with the nitrous oxide.

So that I sit for an hour with nothing to do. I suppose if I was smart I could load a podcast or a book in tape on the iPhone and just listen to it. But I am not smart. I am just a smart ass. There is a difference. So there I am, just thinking. Thinking about stuff like, how many words I can make from the word BELMONT. Thinking about stuff like, how I was right about Lindsey Lohan being in prison and now apparently even she wants to go back. Thinking about stuff like, why did I not floss more. Thinking about stuff like, why do my neighbors have people living in the RV they have parked in their drive way. Thinking about stuff like, how when I was a kid I used to go feed catfish at a catfish farm and then I went inside the cat fish farm restaurant and ate catfish. Thinking about stuff like, what? What was I thinking? Oh yeah, how many words can I make from BELMONT. MELT. BELT. LEMON. TON. TEN. BET. NET. MET.

Screw Hiring a Nanny. I need a wife!

2010-09-21T16:04:00.000-07:00

Today as I ran errands with two kids in tow, took one kids to swim class with second kid in tow, took two kids to post swim class celebratory cookie, ran back home to drop off kids with husband so that I could go to a dentist appointment, came home to set up dinner in the crock-pot, worked out with the "help" of a five year old, showered with the "help" of a five year old, spoke on phone with several old people with two children chiming in at regular intervals (insert huge inhale here) it dawned on me that I do not need a nanny; I need a fucking wife.

Now, now. Calm down. The Mom has not changed teams. Not that there is anything wrong with the other team. It is a great team and I love it. I firmly believe that more televised hot girl-on-girl action will cause everyone to vote YES on gay marriage. I have nothing against lesbians; I am just too fucking lazy for that shit. Women are complicated. Men are easy. I don't need a wife for the lovin aspect of my life. I need someone who will care for my home and children for free so that I can do some other shit throughout the day. Like maybe go to work and interact with adults in exchange for a salary. Or maybe shower without the "help" of anyone.

Obviously my options in this matter are limited. I could try and get a mail order bride from maybe Russia or something, but eventually she might expect to get married to someone. I could join some kind of religious group/cult which allows plural marriage, but I would look really horrible in a prairie dress. I could attempt to clone myself. They have cloned a sheep, so I think they could clone me. I am pretty sheep like at times, only my hair is not curly. I am fairly certain that curly hair would not factor heavily into the cloning process. Considering that the first two choice might result in some sort of negative legal action, I am pretty sure that cloning is my best option.

Anyone know of a place where I can get myself cloned for cheap.

Go Fingle Yourself!

2010-09-15T08:00:00.000-07:00

It has recently come to my attention that the corn growers association is seeking to rename High Fructose Corn Syrup. They want it known by the gentler more user friendly term: Corn Sugar. Now, doesn't that sound nice. What could be more pure than sugar? Actually sugar is not the pure considering it starts as either a piece of cane, which is then cut down and processed to hell and back until it a white grain. Basically if sugar is pure than Paris Hilton is a virgin who really thought that was some gum in her purse. The worst part is that they have the power and money to get it done. They will probably get a new name and we will go on eating that crap for years to come.

If you read my blog (thanks to the three of you----love you lots) you know that I have had some issues with the 'level of profanity' on my blog. You see I am too smutty for advertisers and apparently just smutty enough for PSA. Go figure, Celiac Disease has no issue with the F-word on my blog, but Nestles does. It would seem however the the opposite applies for F-bomb dropping bloggers who actually have traffic as their blogs seem to run lots of name brand ads and nary a PSA. Weird, right? I was still stewing over this information when I learned about the whole renaming for HFCS.

Then it hits me (insert chorus of angels singing). I should just rename the word FUCK. It will take a while before anyone realises that I am still saying FUCK and by that time they will still be eating it up. Seriously, I am a genius. An evil genius, but a genius nonetheless. Therefore effective immediately the word FUCK will now be called, Fingle. I am going to down to the motherfingling trademark office get this fingler registered. If you don't like it you can go fingle yourself.

Slow Running

2010-09-14T08:00:00.000-07:00

I am yet again attempting to get proverbial house in order and by this I mean I ass in order. My house is slowly falling into ruin, but I hope to look better while watching it happen. I have been walking and running for exercise. As I have mentioned previously I am not a very fast runner and lately it has been worse because of some calf pain. Here is list of things that run faster then the Mom.

A three legged dog
A 87 year old man
A crippled crow
A tree
Dragonflies
A man in a wheel chair
A man pushing a wheel chair
A lone wheel chair
A tree
A really fat wiener dog
A really thin chihuahua dog
A runaway trashcan

For real, I am slow. I am trying to go faster, but I swear gravity is holding me back. No matter, I will keep at it. At least I faster than a tree. Oh wait. Never mind

United We Stand

2010-09-13T16:49:00.000-07:00

It has recently come to my attention that pot sellers in the Bay Area are unionizing. Apparently they working conditions which involve the selling of pot to "patience" has become intolerable, what with all the Grateful Dead music and cheese ball stains on everything. As you are no doubt aware, when things get intolerable like this a union must come in and make it all better.

Therefore I propose the creation of Moms Local 1, because frankly our working and living conditions have become intolerable. We are on call 24/7. We get no breaks. We pee and shower in company of others, and sometimes those others are members of the opposite sex(clearly some form of sexual harassment). We do laundry for days at a time only to have to start again as soon as we finished. We drive hither and yon to fetch and deposit children. We are work like dogs on Memorial Day, Fourth of July, Labor Day to get those fabulous grill-tastic feasts off the ground. Do you even want to know what mom does for Thanksgiving and Christmas? Guess what, it does not involve watching football and keeping an eye on the kids (by keeping an eye on I mean only responding to blood curdling screams or actual blood). We ensure that everyone is fed, clothed and basically alive on an on going basis. Some of use it with little to no help and all we get is one day, Mother's Day. Yup, bad buffets and poorly cooked eggs, that is a mom's fate.

My fellow Moms, we must unionize. We need breaks. We need vacations. We need to poo alone! We need to fucking get paid! Join me. Rallies to be forming soon. Sometime between school drop off and the afternoon nap.

Me and Lenny Bruce

2010-09-08T14:01:00.000-07:00

Oh man, oh man, oh man. I gotta tell y'all something. I am too profane for advertisers. That is right, the amount of profanity on my site is the reason why the ads you normally see to your left have been blank for the last couple weeks(please note they are now running, so I guess I am now just profane enough for the Friends of Maddie and Celiac Disease).

I do not deny that I occasionally curse like a drunken sailor. I make no bones about that fact and I knew that this might be an issue for some advertisers, but it has apparently over the last few weeks because any issue with ALL the advertisers. This does not seem fair because currently the f-word, the c-word or any other _-word do not appear on the main page of my blog. Now, I willing admit that the word penis appears twice, along with a picture of a penis flower. I do not consider these to be profane. For one, the word penis is a medical term(serving both a urinary function and a sexual function) and the penis flower just a flower that bares a striking resemblance to a penis.

What is even more curious is the fact that the Penis flower post ran after I had contacted my ad network about their 'dead air'. So it was not the penis flower and it was not my ode to the f-word which ran months ago. Curiouser and Curiouser. Now let me tell you why the normally abiding mom is kind of irked by all this. First of all, I hate to tell the good people at my ad network, but I only agreed to sigh up when they contacted me because I knew it would piss off my enemies and impress my friends(mostly just wanted to piss off the enemies). I never expected to make any money. I really don't have the traffic for it and as expected I have made very, very little money off these ads. I did not miss the money when they were down, I just did not want my blog to look unbalanced. And I just wanted an honest answer as to why the ads were not appearing. It took weeks to get that answer. This is what irks me. I asked a very easy question and the answer considering its simplicity took an especially long time to get back to me.

Now that I have that answer I think it is time to say good-bye to advertising. It was fun. We had a good run, but I really do not want to be censored, not for $2 a month. You can totally censor me for $500 a month, but not for $2. I fulfil my obligations, so until I receive word on how to end this arrangement I will leave the ads in place. I have sent an email asking just that question. Should be getting a response, any, day, now.

Russian Dressing

2010-09-03T08:00:00.000-07:00

Top Ten Ways that Suburban Russian Spy Rings Are Spying on Us. Thereby making us all unhappy and spied upon.

Why are you laughing? You should beware, because loose lips sink sips. If we do not speak up and squash this while we have the chance things will get worse. Next we will have the Amish going undercover at the DMV!

10. They infiltration of the Montclair, New Jersey PTA. All bake sale not include Borscht flavored cookies.

9. They stole the secrets on how to grow perfect Hydrangeas from Edna Rodgerdale of Yonkers, NY.

8. They have discovered the secret of coupon clipping and are now able to purchase a month's worth of groceries for .10

7. In an effort to 'get us back' for creating a Russian Dressing they have stolen the secret formula for McDonald's special sauce and they are selling it across Europe as American Dressing. Our approval ratings in Europe plummet yet again.

6. They have infiltrated Twitter via the handle @BorisNNatasha. Their attempt to use social media to catapult Justin Beiber to stardom has been more than successful.

5. They have captured Yakov Smirnoff in order to extract all his: 'In Russian jokes'. Yakov is expected to be released some time in early 2021.

4. They have colluded with my WV Passat to ensure that the good people at Maserati never here about my total awesome blog and therefore are unable to give me a free car.

3. They backed not one, but two talking chipmunk movies, causing alcoholism to spread through America's suburbs like kudzu.

2. Hokey Smokes! They have captured Moose and Squirrel.

1. They are currently attempting to infiltrate the Olive Garden in Toms River, NJ so as to discover the secret of the never ending pasta bowl.

Hubris: You are One Evil Ass Bitch

2010-09-02T08:00:00.000-07:00

Both my children go to school on Mondays and Wednesdays, so these are the weekdays that I am able to exercise without having to push around a double stroller. I usually try and go for a jog. Now I am still a good bit overweight and I have been a slow runner my entire life; so I don't want you to get the impression that I go on these amazing 8 mile runs. Nothing could be further from the truth as I usually run for 30 minutes. I do try and cover as must distance as possible in that 30 minutes. When I have more time I go longer, but as these are my two free weekday I have other stuff to do, so for now 30 minutes is it.

Wednesday, my to-do list consisted of tidying up the garage, going on a run, stopping by the library and picking up some stuff at the grocery store. Phase one of to-do list, garage tidying: while collapsing and storing the sad two dimensional swing that I literally cannot give away, I saw the knee cooling device that I used after my ACL reconstruction surgery back in 2007 (my new ACL and I celebrated our third anniversary this year by squatting pain free). That is when I did something really stupid. I said out loud, "Why am I keeping this thing? I am hardly going to use it any time soon." Note the foreshadowing. Shoving that damn two dimensional swing in a corner leaving it to rest against my husbands one tire bike (not a unicycle-just a bike missing a tire) and went inside to get ready for my run.

Phase two of my to-do list: go for a run. And what a run it is. As mentioned above I am slow, but today I was managing to keep a 14 minute pace going the entire run. This is really good for me and I was feeling good about it. I even altered my route a bit to get some more distance in and I good to go. My pace was not faltering. The next song on my mix was Obsession by the Animotion and I was stoked. Things were going along smoothly when all of a sudden I something grabbed my ankle (should read as: I tripped on a bit of sidewalk which had been pushed up by a tree root). I knew right away I was going down. I put out my hands and twisted in an attempt to fall against the sound wall that was to my right. This did not work and down I came, BLAM. Left elbow, hands and knees were all involved. I limped home, cursing Hubris, Animotion and trees everywhere all the way.

Phrase three and four of my to-do list involved some limping and cursing. Luckily most mornings the library and the grocery store in question are filled to the hilt with old people, so limping and cursing was par for the course.

Some "Sweet" Tea

2010-09-01T08:00:00.000-07:00

Y'all know I am from the South and one of the things I miss most about home is the ability to get sweet tea just about anywhere. McDonald's does offer a really good sweet tea, but other then the tea McDonald's make me want to through up (you really do not want to know what lead up to this). Anyway, I am always on the look out for sweet tea. Mostly I end up making it myself.

Recently, however, I decided to try out that Lipton's Green Tea. It is not the usual tea, but I thought it looked refreshing and frankly I really liked the commercials. So I tried it. It tasted okay, but I feel like I was mislead. Because I tasted it and sure it tasted okay, but that was about it. Nothing else happened. I did not get high. I did not experience hallucinations of any kind! WTF! It was like drinking any none-psychotropic substance. Wow, I feel mislead. I feel lied too. The commercial made it very clear that I would be hallucinating after consuming this product. There is sat in my kitchen surrounded by various soft and soothing objects waiting for the cat to start to talking. But nothing.

I am so pissed. There should be some rule about lying to consumers about what your product can do. I mean Jillian Michaels seems to always be getting in trouble for selling those 'you will lose 20lbs just by taking this pill', pill. Then why is Lipton's not in trouble for promising vivid hallucinations, but delivering nothing. Why? I mean the humanity. The Humanity. See look. This is what I mean.

Do you see? Like, she takes a drink and second later, BAM hallucinations. I drink a whole damn bottle and all I had to do was pee, a lot. And fish don't have ears....double liars!

Shit My Mom Says

2010-08-31T08:00:00.000-07:00

The following is from a recent telephone conversation with my mother.

Momma: So, what are you watching on TV lately?

Me: I don't know. Let's see. Mad Men, Rubicon.

Momma: Oh, you watch those. Well, we know we don't have HBO anymore.

Me: Mmm, yeah. Well, they are on AM......

Momma: Whatever. What else are you watching? Is Rubicon any good?

Me: What? Em, Rubicon is good, I guess.

Momma: What ELSE are you watching? ( at this point I am getting nervous)

Me: Mmmm, the Closer, Rizzoli and Isles

Momma: The CLOSER. You know I don't watch that show. Don't you.

Me: Yeah, I know.

Momma: Do you know why? Do YOU?

Me: Yes (insert sigh of resignation here).

Momma: Don't sigh like that. I don't watch that show because they killed the cat! The Cat, Amy. The CAT.

Me: I know. But you told me that the actor cat died and that was why they wrote the death into the show.

Momma: What!!???!!!! Who told you that crap? That is unreal. An actor cat.

Me: Okay, maybe that is not the right phrase, but the real cat died. So they wrote the death into the story. You know, out of respect. At least that is what you told me, like two weeks ago.

Momma: Who told you that crap? Do you believe everything you hear?

Me: Momma, you told me that crap.

Momma: Me. Really? Are you sure?

Me: I am reasonable sure that I have only discussed The Closer with you.

Momma: Okay. So, what else are you watching?

Me: Nothing. The TV stopped working.

Glimpses into Madness

2010-08-30T08:00:00.001-07:00

Here is a look at some of my notes from Bloggy Boot Camp(told you, like a dead horse). Please do not let these notes symbolize anything other than the ravings of a lunatic who probably needs a mega dose of adderall.

'She didn't land on the page, the page landed on her."

Plinky: "A good name for a monkey butler"

This gem was found following a Sylvia Plath quote: "and then she put her head in the oven."

Fish? Not a Fish?: A Hit New Game Show from the Creators of Minute to Win It.

Sounds dirty, but isn't: "It speaks to our back end"

"For Cooking parents, is that a site for patricidal cannibals?"

"Time for Penis Flower"

Penis Flowers

BART Plan 2b OR Not 2b

2010-08-27T08:00:00.000-07:00

To recap, on Wednesday I posted something about a planned extension of our local rapid transit into my town. Initially this BART extension was to be on the highway running through our town, as it is in the neighboring town of Pleasanton. In resent month my city council and BART managers have chosen a very different path for this rapid transit extension. They now propose to move it through and under our town. This will effect countless people and businesses. More than 81 homes and business will be potentially be condemned for this project, which will place a subway and train station through a city of only 85,000 people. There was meeting held on Thursday night for those living in the effected corridor to come and ask questions of city official and BART managers. This plan is know as the BART extension to Livermore, Plan 2B

I was able to attend this meeting and I learned several things. Number one, Casa de la Mom will not be condemned by the government. Number two, the decision to go with this Plan 2B extension, has been made and the city wants me to bend over and take it. Number three, the people in the areas most affected by this issue are really, really pissed off.

We were told up front that at this time none of the houses in our neighborhood would be affected, however no one could assure us that this would be the case at a later date. Essentially there was little that we could be assured of at this early stage of this process other than the fact that this IS the plan that our City Council and BART managers want. Much was made of the impact of putting this extension on our highway might have on animal life, and little if no thought has been put into the impact on human life. This saddens me more than words can say.

Previously meetings were held to discuss these options, however these meeting were very poorly communicated to the citizenry, they were held near holidays and they seem to have been held in areas less effected by the Plan 2B option. In all fairness I have to say that I learned of this process and chose not to attend the earlier meetings, because I never thought that any government entity dealing with the current economic crisis would chose a nearly 4 billion dollar project over an almost 1.5 billion dollar project (these are today's dollars). I was obviously wrong and for this I am very sorry. I should not have placed any such trust in my elected officials.

I would like to now help to better inform the citizens of Livermore as to the effects of this project. If you live in the area near the airport, Portola Ave or Junction Ave, be prepared for your roads to be dug up, and for rail tunnels and rail lines to placed under these roads. Your roads and commutes will be jacked up for years! If you live in or very close to downtown Livermore, you will have deal with the train re-emerging at an existing ACE train station. You will also have to deal with an additional 1500 plus multi-story housing units to be placed on already cramped land. If you live in low income apartment complexes in this area, well, it was nice knowing you. Your homes are gone and you most likely will not be able to afford to live in the new housing. If you live in the Patterson Pass area your home will at the very least be smack dab on a rail line. I fear if you live too close, your home will be gone. Also keep in mind that if you live in any of these areas, you must disclose these fact to any potential buyers should you chose to sell your home. These buyers will not walk away, they will RUN away from your property.

Now to those who do not live in these areas, let me spell things out for you. A major transportation hub will be going into our downtown area. This will be within walking distance of movie theaters, our performing arts theater and several schools. Please keep in mind that our precious little 2, 3, and 5 year olds will soon be 7, 8, and 10 years by the time this construction might be starting (the more the delay the older they will be). They are going to be wanting to use this downtown area more and more. While they might be able to use this subway station as a hopping off point to go other places, it will also be used as a coming in point for drug dealers and predators. Additionally you can kiss goodbye that parking structure that was built for the new movie theater for weekday use by Livermore residents. It will be in use by the BART riders, most of whom live in the area to our East.

You see, we will all potentially be impacted by this. However, if we leave BART on the highway as it is in Pleasanton, we will alleviate some if not all of these concerns. This plan is done and there seems to be not that much that we can do about it, except voice our opinions. Here is a list of the city council members here in Livermore.

Mayor
Marshal Kamena Term expires 2011
(925) 960-4020
mayor@ci.livermore.ca.us

Vice Mayor
Doug Horner, Term expires 2013
(925)980-2655
jdhorner@ci.livermore.ca.us

City Councile Members
Marj Leider, Term expires 2011
(925)447-4502
mrleider@ci.livermore.ca.us

John Marchand, Term expires 2013
(925)487-5283
jpmarchand@ci.livermore.ca.us

Jeff Williams, Term expires 2011
(925)455-5575
jdwilliams@ci.livermore.ca.us

Address:
Council Chambers
3575 Pacific Avenue
Livermore, CA 94550

These individuals voted unanimously to move this rail line through our downtown and into our neighborhoods. They did so without regard to the safety of our children, our homes and our community. I would strongly recommend you contact them via email, phone and their address at city hall and I would suggest that you do so often. We need to send a message that WE ARE LIVERMORE. WE ARE PISSED. AND WE VOTE!!!!!

Please see my post from Wednesday for additional information on this plan. The previous post includes links. If you follow me on twitter(@TheMomv2) and hope you do, I starting the hashtags, #WeAreLivermore and #KeepBARTontheHWY as a way to follow the Twitter line of communication.

I am not done and this is far from over. I am well educated, pissed off and most importantly I have little to do but deal with this mess. I will devote much energy to this. This affects the future health and well being of my children. You have seen anything yet, until you have seen this Momma Bear protecting her cubs.

Update: Here is a link to the TV news coverage from last nights meeting. Please note these are humans being effect by this. The Fish and Game are oddly silent. http://www.ktvu.com/news/24779373/detail.html

Livermore BART extension

2010-08-25T12:11:00.000-07:00

I don't often comment about local stuff here on my blog, but I feel duty bound to mention the following meeting. Tomorrow night, Thursday, August 26th at 6:30pm there will be a meeting at our City Council Chambers to discuss the BART Plan 2B extension. BART officials will also be on hand to answer your questions. This meeting is to specially address questions of those residence in the affected corridor whose homes may be demolished to make way for this extension.

For those unfamiliar with this situation let me give you some background. BART is out local rapid transit and in our neighboring town it runs along the median of a highway with stations and parking on either side of the highway. Originally when I moved to Livermore and purchased a home here the plan was to have BART extend along the same stretch of highway. Now our City Council and BART officials have decided to take the extension from the highway(at the soon to be new Isabel Exit), tunnel underground through our city(Portola, and Junction), come back above ground at the downtown ACE station(behind the parking garage at Livermore and First Street) and continue down the existing Union Pacific Line to the Vasco ACE station. There will also be a train yard near the Vasco station.

What is not immediately evident with this plan is impact of long term construction, tunnel construction, and 81 plus homes and businesses which will be destroyed to make way for this plan. In addition those of us far enough away to avoid condemnation will be too close to the tracks to EVER sell our homes for anything close to what they were once worth. Furthermore, there is no money for this plan, and it will probably be 10 to 15 years before their is enough money for this plan (the original plan was billions of dollars cheaper). During the 10 to 15 years if you as a homeowner in the effected corridor wants to sell you home, you will have to disclose this plan. I think it is safe to assume that at that point, only BART will want to purchase your home.

This plan does not just effect those of us who live near the Vasco ACE station. It also effects those who live in and around Portola and Junction as there will be construction on and under these streets for 6 plus years. Then their will be trains running under these streets as often as every 10 minutes on weekdays until 1:30am. Also we can kiss the free parking at Livermore and First good bye during the week as this structure will be used for commuters getting on BART at that station.

Please check out the following links for additional information.

Livermore BART.org~ See top ten reasons to put BART on the highway
http://www.livermoretobart.org/

City of Livermore~ BART to Rail planning~including map of approved BART route
http://www.ci.livermore.ca.us/eng/eng_BART.html

BART to Livermore~Environmental Impact Report
http://barttolivermore.org/

Transbay Blog~Blog about Transportation in the Bay Area
http://transbayblog.com/2010/07/01/bart-board-selects-alignment-for-livermore-extension/

A Word On Memes

2010-08-25T08:00:00.000-07:00

Usually on Wednesday I entertain you with a snap shot of something from my life under the heading Wordless Wednesday. Now, I know full well that this is not something I created, but I seemed like such a damn fine idea. Everyone loves photos, especially ones of my kids and let's face, I am lazy. So taking off a day seemed like good idea, because I would not want this blog thing to over tax me, right?

Then on the BART riding home from Bloggy Boot Camp (and no, I am not dropping this topic--I am beating it like dead horse, so fuck off), I learn about Meme's from my new peep and possible minion. She tells there is a whole site for these things. That there is one for everyday of the week. I feel dirty. I feel violated. I don't mind doing something that others are doing (duh, like blogging), but wrap it in a cutesy name and I throw up a little in my mouth. Really, I did something called a Meme. Christ on a Cracker, I thought I was just being lazy and now I find out that I was being lazy and insipid. Fuck!

The worst part is that there is a whole page of these things, yet Haiku Thursday was a dismal failure. How could Haikus containing dirty words be a failure when Wardrobe Wednesday thrives? What is wrong with this world?

So no more Wordless Wednesday. I will be forced to think and do something. You know, like this. I bet you wish I had just posted a damn picture. Don't you.

Goal!

2010-08-24T08:56:00.000-07:00

In my head the title of this post sounds just like one of those World Cup announces, so I want you to try hard to hear/read it that way. I'll wait.

Okay, moving on. As you are no doubt aware I attended the SITS Girls Bloggy Boot Camp this past weekend. One of the tasks we were asked to do was state a goal for our blog(s). To prove that I was paying attention, here are some of goals that I considered for this blog.

Break Dan Brown's arm or maybe his clavicle. I am not really sure how a non-porn blog could do that, but I really don't like Dan Brown novels and I think someone needs to do something to stop the man. So many be could just fall over from the awesomeness of my blog and hurt himself as a result.
Get a free Maserati
Learn to correctly spell Maserati so as to better attract the company to my blog. Admittedly I should attempt to achieve this goal first.
Create a Facebook Fanpage. Check it out.
Use power of "the Blog" to crush my enemies and make them pay (insert evil laughter here).
Share the penis flower doodle with the world.
Get the Vice President to say, "Holy Fuck-Balls Mary". Then I want him to turn to the camera and say, "Thanks to The Mom"(and wink). Come on Joe. You know you want to do it!
Make you all pee in your pants at least once.

An AAA Plus Bacon Recap of Bloggy Boot Camp

2010-08-23T10:08:00.000-07:00

What? I was paying attention. You are shocked, right. You expect nothing but fart jokes from me, don't you. Well, not only did I pay attention but, I hardly farted at all. I did draw some penis flowers on my notes, but only a couple. So that is good. I was grown up and for the most part I behaved myself. For the most part.

Bloogy Boot Camp is a great one day conference. This particular BBC was held at the Westin St. Francis on the 32nd Floor. Getting there for me involved a car ride, a BART ride (kudos to BART---the train smelled really normal), a short walk past the sweetly sleeping homeless (they are so cute when they are sleepin'), and a death defying ride up a freakin glass elevator. Serious, Westin St. Francis, you need to have a warning sign outside the elevator because glass aspect of this ride it no immediately evident. Because, you get on and it is not until you are surrounded by 9 luggage toting Spanish tourist that your realise the fucker is see-through! Then another elevator whizzes up in the other direction and is cling to the glass wall and weep softy while the nearest Spanish tourist tries to offer words of encouragement. But WTF, I am not listening to him, he got on an up elevator when he needed to go down. Finally I make to the top only to discover that I am early and have to go back down. Crap! Thanks to the Westin St. Francis employee who told me to look for the clock on a near by building to distract me on the way back down and then back up again.

Once I was safely seated away from the windows. I took some photos of the view. These are the only photos I took all day, so you know they are freakin special...

This is why I am not a photo blogger

Our hostess, the very very pretty Tiffany, not only planned a great conference, but acted our Master of Ceremonies by keeping everybody on track and on time. Did I mention how pretty she looked while doing all this. It was nothing short of amazing. Our speakers included: Jessica Bern of Bernthis, Julie of Angry Julie Monday, Ciaran Blumenfeld from Momfluencial, Jennifer James from MommyBloggerClub, Lindsey Krolik, a cool lawyer(no really) who blogs at Me Too You, Ted Rubin from Open Sky and Kristy Campbell from Kristy Campbell Creative. We learned about vlogging(sounds dirty, but it isn't), privacy protection while blogging, marketing our selves to brands, branding ourselves, not getting sued, Open Sky and how to just write. Okay, that last one was my favorite. Sorry, but I play favorites. I like to write. Not saying I write well, but I do write.

I enjoyed the day. The view was great, the people were great, the presenters were great, the hostess was really pretty and lunch was good, too. We got some sway, cuz what would a conference be without the swag.

The best part was new tribe I formed. It is The We Rode BART Home at 5pm Instead of Having Cocktails Because We Were Tired Tribe. That is kind of a long name, so I don't think we will be able to put that on a t-shirt. We will think of something.

Twitter Made Me Cry Today

2010-08-20T13:02:00.001-07:00

For the second time this week the internet has brought me to tears. First there was the quote featured on AOL New about PPD(see yesterday's post).

Today, I thought, that is enough crying, I need some happiness, I need to laugh. So I went to MamaPop for daily dose to celebrity snarky gossip and here is what I found: Jennifer Anniston Uses the R Word on Live TV. Now this story did not make me happy, but at least the person relating what happened seemed to get that what Anniston said was wrong. Then I read the comments. I was shocked. I was shocked that people still don't seem to get that this word is bad. It is a derogatory comment levied against members of our society who have a disability. It is a bad word. It can cause harm. It is wrong to use it. We all seem to get that there are words regarding race and religion which are also derogatory and we seek to verbally slay those who use them, ie: Dr. Lara, Mel Gibson. There are ad campaigns designed to teach people not to use the phrase, 'that is so Gay', but when an advocate for disabled persons calls Jennifer Anniston's comments, “extraordinarily offensive and inappropriate.”, it is suddenly a case of too much PC.

My sister was born with a severe physical disability at a time when this country was not ready to handle or accept people with disabilities. She was called every name in the book for being handicapped. Those words hurt her then and they still haunt her today. We all want to be accepted. We all want to be liked and being called names is harmful and hateful. As long as we allow words like, retard, gimp, gyp, and gay to be used to denoted the negative in every day ways, we will have incidents were these words will be used to cause pain. Why? Because words like these seem harmless when used to denoted silliness, or injury, or oddity, or slyness, but when used otherwise they can cause great pain. When we use them flipantly we give credence to the belief that they are not potentially harmful, but I assure you, to a child who does not quite achieve that which society deems as normal, the word retard is like a slap to the face.

I know this all to well as I recently had to explain to my tearful child what this word meant. His only crime for being made fun of and called this word: being afraid going down a water slide. My son did not understand what the word meant, but he knew that is was horrible and he knew enough to be sad and to ask why. I don't blame the kid who was mean to my son. But I do wonder how that word is being used in his home that he would be able to hurl it so carelessly at another child.

From Darkness to Light

2010-08-19T11:41:00.000-07:00

Words cannot express the horror felt by all at the news of a mother purposefully harming her own children. Parents and non-parents alike inhale sharply and cringe in disgust at such a story. Most recently a woman in South Carolina appears to have murdered two of her children in an attempt to be free of those children. Please note she had an older child who was unharmed. I know next to nothing about this story other then what I have shared with you. Not being the strongest of persons when it comes to gruesome news stories, I did to flip to another channel or turn off the TV all together when a story involving a child appears. Seriously, I don't even want to hear the stories that end well. I just want to change the channel, hug my boys and move on with my life.

I was doing just that when I read a blog post about an AOL news statement on this most recent incident. The AOL News story, has been edited since it was originally posted. But here is what a criminal profiler had to say about mother's with post partum depression:

"Most women who suffer depression after their children are born are suffering from post-how-did-I-get-stuck-with-this-kid, this body, this life? They may be depressed, but it is their situation and their psychopathic personality that brings them to kill their children, and not some chemical malfunction."

My first thought was, AOL NEW? WTF? Really, AOL News? After I overcame my shock that AOL would be considered a news source and I re-read the statement again and I cried. Because I like so many women have suffered from PPD.

Immediately after, The Deedle was born I felt fine. He was in the hospital for a while longer than usual because of Hemolytic Disease, but in the end he was fine. It was not until the buzz of a baby and the hospital stay died down that I started to unravel. And that is exactly what it felt like, I was unraveling on seem at a time. I cried too much. I yelled too much. I was not able to sleep. I could not cope with anything. I remember very vividly driving home from a playgroup where one of my friends had said something unkind to me and I literally wanted to drive my car into a wall because I simply could not cope with how I felt. The comment was one if said today would cause me to simply say, fuck you. But at that time and place if almost triggered a tragedy. As I idled at that light feeling like I did not deserve to live the K Man asked a simple question: 'Mommy, can we have chicken stars for lunch?'. I think God everyday that this was all it took to pull be back to reality. This small little question reminded me that I was not alone. Not alone in that car or in this world. That simple question reminded me that no matter what I was feeling, these little people needed me, here. With this realization, I pulled myself together and continued on without further incident.

That day I took my kids to get some Chicken Stars and when we got home I called my OB/GYN and asked for some help. For me that help came in the form of a pill and I ended up taking Zoloft. I slowly weened myself off the Zoloft when the Deedle was about 15 months old and I found that I was able to cope with whatever life had in store for me. But during that preceding 15 months the Zoloft gave me that little something extra that I needed to be cope and this allowed me to be a better mother. I do not know what I would have done if not for that little pill that took me from the darkness to light.

Pourquoi?

2010-08-17T13:37:00.000-07:00

Our dear Aunt Becky has posed the question: Why Do You Blog? Never one to shy away from the request from Aunt Becky, I yet again pose this question. Only this time I am asking it in French. Disclaimer: Just to be clear I am not going to answer the question in French. In all fairness this is the only French word that I know other than souffle and moi.

When I first asked this question(in English), this was my response(click on this not to cleverly embedded link). I think that my answer has changed just a bit and I sure as shit hope my writing style has matured a bit (probably not so fucking keep that to yourself). As stated previously, I started this was a way to deal with some wicked PPD that the Deedle brought with him as he slide screaming out of my womb, but over time this blog has become so much more. Well at least to me it has. To my three ardent readers they wish my husband would grind some Prozac into my coffee and be done with it. But to me it is more.

Let's start with my moniker: The Mom. I called myself The Mom because I felt I was getting lost in the tittle, MOM. Please believe me when I say, I love my children, because truly and deeply love these little people. But in choosing to stay at home to raise them I have lost, oh, so very much of my own true identity. I am known not by my given name most of the time, but as The K Man's Mom or the Deedle's Mom. I am now, just the Mom. This blog began as an outlet for a deeply depressed woman, but it has morphed into my attempt to regain my own identity. To be Amy again and not just The Mom. So, I write about the real me and on occasion, my real children and real husband. While I keep our last names and their first names private, I still try and tell the truth about life with them.

Plus I am a proficient smart ass and on occasion people find that amusing, but and this is a BIG BUT:I have not aspiration to richness. I do monetize, but I do so in an effort to pay for whatever expenses this blog has directly incurred. I do not plan on getting rich from this blog or from My Veggie Table. Nor do I want to be a stand up comic or a comedic writer. I actually don't consider myself to be a writer. I am just plain and simple a smart ass, who can on occasion string together two words to make a sentence. I have been a smart ass my entire life and I am just happy to have a format for it.

That in a not so nut shell-y, nut shell is why I blog.

Blistering

2010-08-16T12:54:00.000-07:00

"Want to go for drinks before dinner?

"Sure. How about that place across from the restaurant?"

"Nah, let's go further down the street."

"Okay"

Walk, walk, walk, hold hands, talk, talk, talk, hold hands. Cross street, walk, walk, walk.

"Looks like the wine store is changing hands again."

"Good, that guy was an idiot"

"We should check it out again"

"We should. But tonight lets have cocktails."

"Okay, where?"

"I don't know we will find something."

Walk, walk, walk, talk, talk, talk,

"Oh look some sort of street festival. What is going on?"

"A salsa festival? Hmm?"

Walk, walk, walk, no more talking, walk, walk, walk

"I need to go back my feet are hurting. I don't think there are any bars down this way, just dives."

"Really?"

"My feet are really hurting"

"Okay, let's go back."

Walk, walk, walk, no talking, walk, walk, limp, limp, limp.

"Wait, I think my feet are bleeding."

"Do you need to sit down?"

"I think I will be okay, let's just go back down the street closer to the restaurant."

Walk, walk, walk, no more talking, limp, limp, limp, bleeding just a little.

"Okay, I do need to sit down."

"Oh honey, what do you need?"

"Band-aids maybe, but I can't walk anymore. I think I have some in the car"

"I'll go get them for you. If there aren't any there do you want me to go buy some. We have time."

"Sure if you don't mind."

"No, I don't mind." Run, run, run

Sit, sit, sit, wait, wait, wait, tweet, tweet, tweet

"Did you find them?"

"Yes. Here you are."

Band-aid, band-aid, band-aid, ahhhh.

"That is better. Where is the restaurant, exactly?"

"Right there. Now where do you want to go for drinks? How about here?"

"Great, that is right across from the restaurant."

Cocktail, cocktail, cocktail, martini tree, fondue, fondue, fondue....

"My feet feel better now."

"Must have been the Martini Tree."

"Must have been."

And it was a magical day

2010-08-11T13:48:00.001-07:00

Nine years ago today my husband and I wed. Thus, the magic began. To follow would be three plus years of wedded bliss. We stayed out late, slept in, drove across country three times, lived in a craptastic apartment to save money and generally had some fun.

Then one day, baby made three.

Thus began a new kind of magic as we stumbled around in the proverbial dark trying to act like we new what the hell we were doing. Luckily for us the K Man was inexperienced enough not to notice.

Then we became the Fabulous Four.

Thus began the magic that is raising two children. By the time that the Deedle came screaming out of my vagina, we thought we had the whole parenting thing down pat. Until we realised we had to do it all while taking care of a baby. Again, the Deedle was too inexperienced to know any better and the K Man had the good sense to keep his mouth shut.

It's My Birthday, Too!

2010-08-10T13:02:00.000-07:00

I am turning 39 today. Don't let the rumors (that I started) about me being 29 fool you. I am in fact a 39 year old person. Honestly, not sure how I feel about this one. I liked 33 a lot! And 36 was good as well. But I am thinking that 39 might be a real kick in the ass. Because you know what comes after 39, dontcha? That is right 39 1/2 comes after 39, but eventually comes 40. As must as I loathe to admit it the thought to turning 40 bothers me.

I am getting older. Things hurt that have never hurt before. I am getting more and more platinum hairs every day. My skin in changing and my butt is sagging and soon I will just dry up and blow away. But before that happens I think I still have a little life left in me. So, this year for my birthday I am going to do something I have never really done before, EVER. I am going to do something for myself. I have always made concessions for others. I did what my parents wanted me to do (up to a point as they never expected me to marry and leave their home). I made concessions based on my sister's health and wellbeing. My life currently revolves almost exclusively around my husband and children. So here is what I am doing.

First thing I am doing is I am going to a small blogging conference in about two weeks. The badge is over there >>>>> somewhere. It is the Bloggy Boot Camp which is being put on by the Secret is in the Sauce girls. And I am staying over in San Francisco for the event! Hah, take that 39!

Second thing I am doing is going to a spa for the day and getting some spa-ish shit done to my body. I don't really care what as long the day at some point involves a fluffy robe. Not sure where to when I doing this, but it is certainly happening. In you face, 40's right around the corner!

HomeHer10:Chock Full of Hashtaggy Goodness

2010-08-06T10:40:00.000-07:00

From humble beginnings often come great things and #HomeHer10 is no exception. This cinderella story started in the kitchen of blogger turned Peeping Tom/Peach Canner (not nearly as dirty as it sounds), Backingpacking Dad. From these humble peach canning beginnings was born the real awesomeness that is #HomeHer10. It is the Real Broke, Sick, Pregnant or Whatever People's Party. That's right, this is the twitter/blogger conference for those too broke, too sick, too pregnant or too anything else to go to BlogHer10!

We now have our own logo made by Toni

We have our own Twibbon: for those without the Twitter induced speech impediment, a Twibbon is a ribbon to go on your Twitter picture.

We have out own shirts
http://www.customink.com/designs/homeher10/mct0-000f-a0gh/hotlink?cm_mmc=hotlink-_-1-_-Body_txt-_-link1

We have giveways from the following(these are the ones I could find while writing this, please check the #HomeHer10 for more):
CBS Mom: Lunch
4 Baby and Mom: School Supplies
Eye Lash Stuff

No, we did not make it onto the Today Show. No, we did not get to use the bathroom where The Bloggess was hiding. But Holy Fuck-Balls Mary we are having some real fun! We are still meeting new people and if might even still win some shit. Join the fun, your know you want to. #HomeHer10

Joy

2010-08-04T13:00:00.000-07:00

“This post is part of SOYJOY‘s: What brings you joy contest. Learn more here.”
What brings me joy are the simple moments in time which I encounter on an almost daily basis. They are sights, sounds and smells. They are heart-achingly fleeting. In a word, they are temporary and I wish that I could capture each and every one of these moments forever with the blink of my eyes. My joys are:

Homemade cookies

The sound of my children playing as brother, but becoming friends
The cat warm from the sun
My children winding wonder in the world.

They won’t last forever, these moments. I can do my best to remember. I can take many, many photos, but in the end away they will go. Boys become men and good pets become beloved memories, but mom will do her best to remember each and every moment that brought her infinite joy.

Like a Poke in the Eye: 3D

2010-08-03T08:00:00.000-07:00

Last weekend I took the K-Man to see Despicable Me. He had seen the preview when we went to see Toy Story 3 for his birthday and it looked cute, so we went. While we have hit the big kids movies this Summer season, what we have not seen is any movie in 3D. But it seems that so many movies are offered in a 3D version now a days, Toy Story 3, Despicable Me, Avatar, Step it Up 3D, The Jonas Bros Experience, etc. It makes me wonder what movies should have been in 3D, but where not. Here is a list of movies that I think would have benefited from a little 3D action.

Titanic: Imagine the stirring strains of Celine Dion's unforgettable, "Our Love Will Go On." as Leo's rock solid frozen corpse bobbed up and down DIRECTLY in front of you face. Not the mention the laugh riot of helpless Irish immigrants falling off the side of that metal leviathan know simply as The Titanic.
Thelma and Louise: Who feels cheated that they did not get to see a younger very, very muy caliente Brad Pitt dance around half naked in 3D. Think of the pelvic thrusting action on that one. Also, that final over the edge scene would have meant so much more if we had been able to see the car hang there for a just a minute before our very eyes. Don't you want to just reach out and try and touch Thelma's face.
Fargo: Wood Chipper, Steve Buscemi, 3D. Need I say more!
Napoleon Dynamite: Okay just the last 3 minutes because we need to see bridal LaFawnduh in 3D. Oh yes we do!
Apocalypse Now: I love the smell of napalm in the morning! It smells like victory. Just imagine that right in your face and now imagine an aging, crazy, fat Marlon Brando RIGHT. IN. YOUR. FACE. Stop gagging and take it like a man.

Word Play-revisited

2010-08-02T10:44:00.000-07:00

Okay it has been a while since we had any Word Play and I thought it would be fun to revisit and bask in the glow of our Word Play. You might remember my original Word Play rant against the Most Annoying Word poll on Yahoo last Oct that really mostly contained phrases and not stand alone words. This solo rant was soon follow up by two more about words I like and words that sound dirty, but are not really dirty. Well here I am back in the vault (now there is a phrase which sounds dirtier than it actually is).

Todays Word Play involves words or phrases I probably should not have said in front of my children. Luckily my boys know how to practise some discretion and thankfully so far was is said in the car has not left the car. This is probably only because they are huge music lovers, so they are too busy repeating the lyrics to Traffic and Charlatans songs (we live in a child music free zone).

Fucktard: as in, "Does that stupid fucktard not see that I am trying to parallel park!"
Asshat: as in, "That asshat put whole milk in latte on purpose!" (file that under a first world only problem).
Durr: as in, "Well durr, of course I know how to get to your house. You like in Dublin, right? No. You moved. When? Last year. Wow. Okay, so how do I get to your house, again?"
Stupid Cat: as in, " AHHHHHHH!(crash, smack, crunch) Stupid cat!"
Shut your Pie Hole: as in, "Shut your pie hole, you stupid cat. I'll feed you in a minute."
Craptastic: as in, "Wow, Fly Me to the Moon was one craptastic masterpiece"
Christ on a Cracker: as in, "Christ on Cracker, Deedle! Get down from the top of the elephant exhibit."

Operation Mommy Freedom

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

So the Deedle started his first day of school this week. He will be going to pre-school on Mondays and Wednesdays. His brother goes to the same school on Mondays, Wednesday and Fridays. So for two days a week, at least for three hours I am a free woman.

The Deedles first day of school started on Wednesday and this is what i did with my freedom. I went to the bank, picked up toys off the floor, fed the cat, and updated my cooking blog. I am doing all this happily when it hits me. Holy Fuck-Balls Mary, this is the same shit I do when the Deedle is here. I should be doing something exciting or at the very least something different. I have been waiting for this day since the minute my little angel/devil started walking and now I don't fucking now what to do with myself.

With two kids in what is essentially private school we really do not have a lot of extra cash laying around the house, so shopping is out. There are only so many errands to be ran and the house is used to being dirty so I don't want to send it into shock by cleaning it. I could knit or read or blog....wait a minute.

Seriously, I need some goals. I need some plans. I am at a loss. Any advice and first person who says skydiving gets a punch to the throat.

Kitchen Confessions

2010-07-29T09:25:00.000-07:00

I have a cooking blog which is decidedly more sedate than this blog. My Veggie Table is dedicated to sharing vegetarian recipes with the mostly non-vegetarian masses. Unlike this blog which is about making a smart assed fool of myself on a regular basis. I think that those who read the cooking blog probably have the impression that my family is eating these great nutritious meals every night; when in actuality it is more like the husband and me eating the meals while the kids whine about the food placed before them. Don't worry, they get chicken nuggets at least once a week, so they are not going to starve to death any time soon.

Here is an actual conversation that took place in my kitchen recently.

Deedle: What you doing mommy?

Me: I am cooking dinner.

Deedle: Yeah! Cookies for dinner.

Me: No, that is not what I said.

The K-Man: Cookies for dinner? Yes!(insert clapping and jumping up and down).

You can imagine their disappointment when I served Risotto instead. There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Wordless Wednesday

2010-07-28T11:00:00.000-07:00

A saw fish at the GA aquarium. Further proof the God created hallucinogens on the first day.

Dear Lindsay Lohan: shut up, please

2010-07-27T11:39:00.000-07:00

Well, at least for some of us it would be. Seriously you mean I would not have to cook a meal, clean a kitchen or wipe an ass. Are you freaking kidding me? I would not setting in around chewing my nails down to the nubs over this one. I would be jumping up and down in front of the jail begging to start that shit early like it Christmas where I got my pink huffy.

All kidding aside I know that jail for the regular folk must really suck syphilitic donkey dick, but for the Hollywood set such as Lindsay and Paris...not so much. Sure they cannot twitter or shop or take crack. Okay, they can probably get some crack, but I don't think your can twitter or shop in jail. Here is what Lindsay has to deal with, an 12x8 foot cell which is larger then my last dorm room and I had to pay for that. Her room contains a bunk bed, a sink, a toilet, a table and a window with a 'bad view'. Again save for the toilet and sink this was my last dorm room. Only in my last dorm room I had to deal with drug addled roommate who like to get high and have sex in the bathtub with a rotating group of equally high guys. So, I am thinking that I would have preferred the toilet in the room. Lindsay will get to take a shower every other day. I think I last time I showered regularly was in the Summer of 2005. She gets to exercise three times a week. Well that has to be blow to Lindsay as she lost all that weight by exercising regularly....exercising her ability to get her hands on coke and adderall. But for those of use with the childrens might think this is not so bad.

So two weeks of not having to talk to anyone. Two weeks of not having to deal with children and husbands. Two weeks of not having to run in five different directs during the day to get everyone, including the cat to were the need to go. Two week so of no cleaning, no cooking. Two weeks of not having to keep track to who has and who has not pooped. Two week of getting to shit without someone banging on the door (okay that one might still happen in jail). Two weeks of sleeping ALONE with out a tiny foot smacking you in the back every ten seconds. Hell, two weeks of sleeping more than 4 hours at a time. And that is IF she stays for two weeks of her 90 day sentence. She could stay fewer days then that.

The Allergy Saga: The Conclusion?

2010-07-26T18:08:00.000-07:00

So I went back to see the allergist on Friday for my post poke test visit. This visit was supposed to clear up the issue of the hives I had in June. The anaphylaxis we are still assuming was caused by the Naproxen. But we are in the dark on what caused the most recent problems.

So when the nurse said I was allergic to everything she was not kidding. I tested positive to everything including saline. Which is the negative control test to see if they test will work. So basically I my skin is so sensitive that I swell up with poke with sharp things. So there is not tell what I might or might not be allergic to. In the words of my doctor: My sensitive skin rendered the test null.

What really pissed me off was that they knew this on the first day, but I still had to come back three times to finish the test. Which they should have known was null after the first poke. And did the doctor not think this might be an issue considering I am only one day in the basement away from being confused with an albino.

We raise our paws together

2010-07-22T08:00:00.000-07:00

It is I, Penny the Cat. I have taken over the computer while my female human is outside playing with the issuance of her unsavory loins. She calls them boys, I call them pestilence covered in stickiness. I now control the computer to call to action all my fellow cats. I know some of you blogesphere humans out their have a cat or two or three. I feels sorry for you that could not find the perfect cat, like the Penny Cat and had to get two cats. I digress but you must forgive me because I am superior being and because I am very upset about something I saw on the human entertainment box last night.

It was this:

You must see what they have done to our brethren. They have catnapped a pack to defenseless stupid kittens and forced them into humon clothing and made them sing and dance for humon entertainment. This is egregious to say the least and criminal at worst.

We must band together my feline friends and fight this foe known as a Quiznos. We must find the location of this Quiznos. We must seek it out, free our these kittens and most important stick a blow for cats everywhere.

We will start right after nap time because the sun is warm in the front window right now. So, later we will do this. Yes, latter. Right after nap time and bird watching time. Yes, after those two things.

Do any of you know what a Quiznos, is?

Wordless Wednesday

2010-07-21T11:13:00.001-07:00

Nose to Nose with a penguin.

The Home Finishers Files

2010-07-20T12:04:00.000-07:00

Way back when we first moved to California I worked at this construction company. Well, they mostly provided labor to construction companies. Our employees would fill the gap on jobs like painting, dry wall, as well as some basic construction skills. We also offered the ever popular home warranties. Honestly if they had just done the home warranties this company would have lasted, but sadly they branched out too much. I worked in the payroll department and these are my stories.

Here, I was in Northern California trying to figure why everyone was complaining about the heat when I only felt like it was 85 to me. Because 85 in Atlanta felt like 102 out here, at least back then. Now, 102 out here feels pretty freaking hot and 85 in Atlanta feels like the inside of Satan's ass. But back then I was still figuring things out. One thing I had to learn about was Kimba.

Kimba worked for our collections department and she had the cubicle right next to mine. Kimba came from a large Mexican-American family, and I swear more than half of them worked in our office. Kimba was about my age (29 at that time), and she was a divorced mother of three teenage/pre-teen children. She had left her husband and children for another man with whom she had at best a stormy relationship. I tell you this not to pass judgement on Kimba, because I could care less the choices someone else makes in their life. That is their business and most assuredly not mine. I tell you info because it is background into this very interesting person with whom I once worked. Kimba was at time rough around the edges and she honestly did not like white people. But she was also a good person and she would give you the shirt off her back if you needed it.

Every morning Kimba would come in and drop her keys on my desk before proceeding to her own cubicle. The first week or so this happened I did not think much of it as I was busy learning the ropes of my new position. But finally with some work knowledge under my wing I just had to ask, what was up with the keys? Kimba was always on the phone yelling and one or two of our customers attempting to be paid. We had two or three builders who were always in arrears. I decided to ask my fellow payroll clerk, Cristina. Cristina explained that Kimba had used to leave her keys on Mindy's desk, but that she started leaving them on my desk when I started and she did not know why. Off to see Mindy I went only to learn that Mindy did not know either. Mindy was more than a little afriad of Kimba.

I go back to my desk only to hear Kimba calling out: 'Wendy?' over and over again. Thinking she was attempting to get Mindy's attention I did not answer. Then finally she says, 'Hey white girl in the next cubicle, do you hear me calling your name?'. Choking back laughter, I responded: 'Sorry, I did not know you were calling me. My name is Amy.' Kimba's reply is simple and to the point: 'It is going to be easier for me if you and other white girl have names that rhyme.' There was some discussion as to whether I should be Wendy to match Mindy or whether Mindy should be Jamie to match Amy. In the end I was forever and always called Wendy by Kimba. It did cause a bit of confusion in the office and to the credit of others they still called me Amy. Oh well. At least now I could ask her about the keys. Here was her response:

'I was arrested for stabbing my ex-husband's new girlfriend with my keys. But that really isn't stabbing. It is key poking, not stabbing: to stab you need a knife. Right? Wendy'. It takes me minute to figure out who Wendy is because I new to being Wendy, finally I get it and say, 'No, I think that is still stabbing. But why do you have to leave your keys on my desk?' With a sigh and an eye roll she continues (because this all should be obvious): ' I can only have my keys when I am driving. When I am not in the car I have to leave my keys with someone responsible and you seem responsible. Plus you are white so the judge will like that, too.' Aghast that I had for the first time in my life been racially profiled I began to stammer that I might not be responsible. I might in fact be a desperate criminal. To which Kimba replies, 'No. No, your not.'

I gave up. She was right. I was responsible person who was not at all a desperate criminal, and for the next year I was the keeper for Kimba's keys.

Rejected Children's Books

2010-07-19T10:31:00.000-07:00

The Perv on the Curb
Flat Stanley Visits Document Disposal
The Very Squishy Slug
How Fletcher Was Run Over by a Car
Crabby Abby
Amelia Bedelia Goes to the Unemployment Office
Everyone is an Asshole
Emotions Are Best Swallowed: The WASP guide to Feelings
Gerald and the Purple Sharpie or Why Mommy Drinks too Much?

Porn-ish Part 2

2010-07-14T19:40:00.001-07:00

They keep coming. These comments in a foreign language. I am not checking any links, but in the past the comments linked directly to porn sites containing nearly naked Asian women. Hold on, don't you all run to check at once. Okay, I'll wait........

Anyway, I am not sure what this means. I thought moderating all comments would help, but it has not. And I must say it is very disheartening that the vast majority of my comments are these sorts of comments. I am not sure what about my blog is attacking them. Is the word Confessions particularly appealing to an Asian porn site algorithm? Once can only wonder.

Please be aware that the Mom does not watch porn. Not to cast dispersion on those who do, it is just not my thing. I saw a porno once while taking a Human Sexuality class in college and while everyone once sat rapt with the pure sex that literally lay wide open before us; all I could think was: I hope that weird scratching noise is coming for the chair and not that woman's vagina. I am pretty sure it was chair, but one can never be too sure.

So please porn-bots, go away. I am tired of you. And does anyone have any insite into why this keeps happening.

Cat Convo

2010-07-13T14:18:00.000-07:00

Me to Cat: If you don't start cleaning (eating) up the food that these kids keep dropping on the floor; I am going to trade you in for a dog.

Cat: (haack, phewt) Can a dog cough up a fur ball that looks like St. Joseph?

Me: (pause for thought) I am going to have to go with NO.

Cat: Ha! Suck it fido

Me: You are so stupid. That looks nothing like St. Joseph.

Cat: You're the one talking to a cat.

Tendy

2010-07-10T09:46:00.000-07:00

Because I am old and resistant to change, I use Yahoo as my homepage. I have used Yahoo as my homepage since I got I my first computer from Stupid PC, way back when in 1998. I had a dial up modem and I was so shitastically happy to have the ability to edit without whiteout that I did not mind at all that Stupid PC had programed my to sound like a hillbilly. Don't ask and yes it was not long because I disabled the hillbilly and sent him packing. But, I digress. This is not about hillbilly computer voices, this is about the trending topics on Yahoo.

As I compose this post the tending topics on Yahoo are as follows:
Carrie Underwood
Jessica Simpson
Carmelo Anthony
CD Rates
Rachel Maddow
Glenn Beck
Roy Rogers
Train Vacations
Oakland Riots
Patio Umbrella

This is the 'correct' order as they appeared this morning on my computer. Of course as time progresses these will all change, but right now this is what the yahoo searcher is interested in. I look upon these lists with endless wonderment, because I don't really want to know who or what is trending. I want to know, WHY these subjects are trending.

Carrie Underwood and Jessica Simpson? Was there some sort of controversy involving mom jeans, blond hair and boobs. Have those three things been linked to a increased risk of cancer? Did they get into some huge fight at airport?

Carmelo Anthony? Why? Are you tired of searching about LeBron James so you decided to mix things up? For a laugh why don't you search for info on the Golden State Warriors. Seriously the laughter never stops with that bunch.

CD Rates? Well that is a good sign right? Maybe people have finally decided to stop throwing their money away on useless shit and instead they have started to save it.

Rachel Maddow? Actually she trends a lot and I can only assume that is be because of something she said or wrote in regards to her own political leanings that others either love or hate.

Glenn Beck? I am going to assume that Rachel said something that made him cry. This guy sure cries a lot.

Roy Rogers? Is dead...Just thought you would want to know. He has been dead for some time so I am not really sure why he is a trending topic. Maybe the cowboy is coming back.

Train Vacations? Are you out of you mind people? Unless you want to fork over the cash and go ride the Orient Express you are going to be sorely disappointed. Trains take forever to get were they are going because they use the same lines as do freight shippers. Trains go through some not so great parts to town. And the rocking will surely make you hurl.

Oakland Riots? Okay this one I get. I live in the Bay Area and I know all about this one. I am only to say that I am glad that more people did not get hurt. Wait, I also want to say, shame on the jury for not taking longer to deliberate on this one. I was on a murder trail several years ago and we took three days to deliberate. What you could not fake to at least give the people of Oakland the impression that you were trying to do something other than leave early? I know that jury duty is no fun and I know that most of us what to avoid it, but once you are there it is your DUTY as a citizen to take it very seriously. I hope they unvalidate your parking. Shame on you.

Patio Umbrella? Either everyone wants a nice place to entertain this summer or this is a sexual position I have never heard of.

The Allergy Saga

2010-07-05T08:00:00.000-07:00

Last year I had a severe allergic reaction which resulted in anaphylaxis. If you are wondering what anaphylaxis is it is kind of like being Violet in the original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate factory only no where near as entertaining. After a series of blood tests my doctor (an allergy specialist who has a penchant for equestrian ties) was able to determine that I was not allergic to anything out of the ordinary that they usually test for, but that I was definitely allergic to something. With that helpful information I was sent home with an epi-pen and a stern warning to stay away from Naproxen (Aleve), as this was the most likely cause of my reaction.

For the next year I routinely and diligently managed to avoid Naproxen....not really all that hard. However, this past May I begin breaking out in hives again. They hives were pretty bad, but they went away with benadryl and my breathing was never affected. But I have to tell you that the original reaction started with hives so this time around the hives have a my husband and I just setting around monitoring my breathing...just in case. This is stressful to say the least. Particularly for my husband. When this happened last year he leaves the house to go buy some benadryl and when he returns 15 minutes later my lips are blue and I am having a very hard time breathing. I was frightening for me, but terrifying for him. This time the hives would go away quickly with the benadryl and then come back as soon as the benadryl wore off. In the end I had to resort to taking prednisone. Which I hate because it makes me sweat like a pig. So for 7 days I lived with my back to the open freezer and all was well. The hives went away and as to yet I have not had a problem again.

BUT, at the behest of my spouse I made an appointment to see the horse tie loving allergist. I had to wait many weeks to get in to see him as it is seasonal allergy season. So in I go. Again, no idea, but he wants to do the traditional skin tests for allergies. This involves three appointments and being scratched multiple times with stuff that makes you itch. Only you cannot ITCH them. It is pure torture. Then for the third appointment you are injected with those things that did not make you allergic the first time. In may case I was allergic to almost everything. So I only go three injections at the end. Now I was not really certain what might have caused a reaction from the first two days to tests because the nurse administrating the tests was a big fan of the double negative.

As a result of these tests I have learned that I am allergic to everything, but dog and guinea pig. Next week a start a breeding program. My guinea dogs will be both tasty and friendly.

Wordless Wednesday

2010-06-30T08:00:00.000-07:00

Wondering what flavor are the jellyfishes?

Headline News

2010-06-29T14:42:00.000-07:00

You see, I used to be the manager at a Bombay Company store in the mall and there was this guy who came to work for me part time, who also worked as a producer for Headline News. Now you might think it is odd the this producer guy would want to work part time at the mall, but he had just purchased a house and wanted to furnish it at a discount. You might also wonder why I as a manager would hire someone to work in my store who so obviously just wanted a discount and had no plans to work their beyond the decorating of his new home.

Well, he was hot and cute and really smart and I REALLY like that combination. Turns out he was a great employee and I had a enormous crush on him and he just happened to be gay(not that there is anything wrong with that). I know! I should have seen it coming because, well, he took a part-time job at a furniture store in the mall in order to decorate. Today I would see it, but then I was 23 and all I saw was a cute, hot, smart, older guys who seemed to be at least somewhat interested in me. I think he just liked my hair or something(it was a all spiral curls just like Sheryl Crow wore at the time). Anyway, he was a nice guy, but he batted for the other team and I blame Headline News. Because him working for them also made him that much more attractive and made me crush that much more on him. So Headline News was really the nail in the coffin of my post pubescent heartbreak.

Now this was not some embarrassing thing, like I hit on him and found out he was gay. I would never have hit on someone who worked for me. That would be SOOOO wrong, but I was totally going to try and tap that fine ass the minute that damn house was decorated. Luckily my super best friend at the time was a gay, cross dresser from Monks Corner, SC named Seth/Allyson(for reals his mom dressed him as a girl until he was 6 years old and called him Allyson...it was not until he went to school that he found out he was not a girl and was in fact a boy named Seth....true fucking story, y'all). Anyway, Seth figured the whole thing out long before I could make a totally ass of myself. God bless his daisy duck wearing little heart, he even stayed away from Mr. Headline News himself out to respect for my heart. A true fucking friend, that one.

Under Used Wall Art Sayings

2010-06-28T15:22:00.000-07:00

Don't you love those cute sayings and words that people so proudly display on their walls in kitchens and dens throughout America. Please don't confuse this with the classic Microsoft WordArt, because that funky shit is classic. I am talking about trite one liners or one worders which was meant to sum up a persons home or being.

They range from simple words like: Cucina (because nothing says I am chic like kitchen in a foreign language), -or- imagine (really you just killed John Lennon again), -or- joy (hmm okay). Of course they go straight from simple to complex with quotes and phrases like: Friends, like wine, get better with age (at least until they start pissing themselves) -or - All You Need is Love~John Lennon (again with the killing of the already dead John Lennon) -or- Made in the USA (highly doubtful, but okay we can pretend).

Now I would understand such things is your ran a business and need these things for display purposes, i.e. men's hosiery this way, or watch your step. Or I could understand this if you had a person living with you who might need some assistance such as, 'this way to can, Grandma!', or 'that the waffle iron not the phone, Grandma'. But otherwise, I find these items to be trite and just a waste of money, not to mention sweet to the point to making saccharin ashamed. I know that we as humans need to define ourselves. We need to make statements about WHO we are. We need to heard....that is why (ahem) some of use start blogging.

Maybe I should try a find a few that would define me:

The K-Man is 5 Today!

2010-06-25T08:00:00.000-07:00

This is the story of how my oldest came into the world. His story is less comical than his brother's and I am pretty sure it will always be like that. The K Man will always be my serious one and the Deedle will always be the cut up. I wrote this originally for a birthing board that belonged to while pregnant with the K-Man, so it may read a little odd as it was written for a group of women with whom I was very intimate. I have edited it to remove the K-Man's name and my husband's name.

Okay here it goes. I woke up in the morning on Saturday (6/25) at 6:57AM with contractions 4-5 minutes apart. When we got to 45 minutes of contractions every 4-5 minutes I called my doctor and my husband put all the bags in the car. My doctor was off for the weekend but the doctor with whom she shares office space was on call. She gave me the option of staying at home to labor or coming in to L&D. As I have a weakened cervix I decided to go in to L&D.

We got there at about 8:15AM and after determining that I was 4 cm dilated and 100% effaced they decided to let me stay. So my husband and I settled in. By 2pm I was at 6cm dilated and I requested my epidural. The anesthesiologist got there and everything went fine with getting the epi. But by the time he was done I was at 10cm dilated. I numbed up very quickly, but then my blood pressure dropped drastically. I had to get oxygen and I kept fading in and out. Finally the oxygen kicked in and I was able to pull myself together and push. Which was really good because we found out later they were preparing the OR to do a C-Section.

So, I got it together just in the nick of time. I pushed for two hours and at the end his heart rate dropped and they had to vacuum him out. It turned out he breathed in some amniotic fluid into his lungs and this made his heart rate drop. But everything was okay in the end. I am okay and I have a beautiful and healthy baby boy. We love him so much. We cannot take our eyes off of him. I am just so amazed that my husband and I created this wonderful baby.

At 6lbs 15oz The K Man was born at 5:55 pm on Saturday, June 25, 2005. I feel as though I have been waiting my whole life for this moment and I am beyond happy to finally have this child. Love to you all.

Rejects From the Fortune Cookie Factory

2010-06-24T08:00:00.000-07:00

Keep you face washcloth and your butt washcloth separate.
Never play with a cat while naked.
If life is a bowl of cherries you are the pits.
Were you aware that the FDA allows for a certain amount of bug excrement in all processed foods?
The squeaky wheel gets the oil, but eventually it just gets replaced. So, STFU.
Your cat mocks you behind your back, mostly about how you look naked.
Remember, that which does not kill us makes us stronger: Sorry about the diarrhea.

Wordless Wednesday

2010-06-23T15:23:00.001-07:00

Playing on a hill in my parent's backyard while waiting for the lightening bugs to appear.

Things Worse Than a 5 year old with a sheet of Bubble Wrap

2010-06-22T14:55:00.000-07:00

Jillian Michaeals' Face: What? Too Cruel. You listen to bubble wrap in the hands of a five year old for 1 hour and let's see how nice you can be.
Nails down a chalk board: Same child different hand and no he has not done them together yet.
Getting a cold after returning from the tropics (i.e. Georgia) just in time for your husband to go out of town and render you a single parent.
The 2 year old: waking up screaming from his afternoon nap in the middle of Bubblefest 2010. Not sure if the two are related, but together they suck an extra lot.
The song Isn't It Ironic?: Because NONE of that shit was ironic....it all just sucked!
Allergy testing: For real this should replace water boarding. Poke those terrorist guys with a bunch of itchy stuff and then not let them scratch for 20 minutes or more, repeat three times. Seriously, you could incorporate it into their health care plan and no one would be wiser. Better yet, put them in a room with a 5 year old who has a full sheet of bubble wrap!
Quoters and the people who enable them: Seriously, put down that copy of Bartlett's Quotations and come up with something fresh. Oh who am I kidding, you stupid Quoters have never heard of Bartlett's. Instead stay off of google quotes or whatever. By the way, that wasn't Katherine Hepburn who said that, it was Dorothy Parker. When in doubt, it is always Dorothy Parker.
Miley Cyrus and those who enable here: Come on, stop looking and they will go back from whence they came, in this case some holler somewhere.
Oh Christ let's just face it, nothing is worse then a 5 year old with a full sheet of bubble wrap. For real how long is this going to last.

Post trip re-cap

2010-06-21T12:57:00.001-07:00

I do not normally show photos of my children where you can see their faces, but I felt this could be an exception as my children are not usually blue.

We travelled back East to Georgia last week to visit my parents and my sister. I gotta say, things went better then expected. Both kids were on their almost best behavior (come on the 2 years still loves the word NO, better than a coal miner loves fresh air), and my family did really well with having us there as well. My sister was a absolute Godsend when it came to the boys. In fact it took three days for them to stop calling her Grandma as she spent far more time with them than their actual Grandmother. Oh well, I suppose at some point my mom will notice that I have had children and she might then actually try and interact with them for a minute or two.

We discovered a couple of things while on our trip. We discovered that children born and raised in California DO NOT like unheated swimming pools. In fact they react to a 78° pool in much the way a person would react to being dipped in acid or shot in the crotch by a laser. They react so loudly that the across the street neighbor can hear them and is left to wonder what sort of torture is going on poolside. Please note that the neighbor did not come to investigate because she was too busy being eaten alive by mosquitoes while trying to plant mosquito flummoxing plants (oh the irony).

We discovered that a curly haired children quickly becomes a Afro-headed child when introduces to temperates in the mid-90's with a humidity level around the 60% range. We also learned that when you calculate the heat index for the mid-90's with 60% humidity you get a temperature which is roughly that of Satan's butt crack. Also please note that any dog let out to play in such temps with two little boys will also SMELL like Satan's butt crack after about 15 minutes.

We went to the Georgia Aquarium and we learned that the people who volunteer at the aquarium appear to be the very same people who where released from the Georgia Hospital for the Criminally Insane, back during the Carter administration. While I applaud their efforts to reestablish a link with polite society, I do question the choice of having them yell the directions to the Penguin exhibit. I mean what did those penguins ever do to anyone. And do I really need to be told that I have a choice to crawl through an exhibit....what about me suggests that I have crawled an inch since my 1st birthday. Really?

Finally we learned that when we leave a place it stays with us not matter what. Whether it be the accent, or the ability to say the word" y'all without sound like a douche bag, I will forever be from and of the South. There is no taking that away from me. But, going home sure makes you think about how far you have come and how much you love how you got there and who are you with now.

365

2010-06-17T11:16:00.000-07:00

I do a lot of list on this site and I know that this is not considered a good way to blog by many, but honestly this is way better than some pedantic, self aggrandising whine-fest that reads like a bad English 101 paper.

Yesterday I tuned in to the Today Show and caught a story about a Yoga instructor who did everything Oprah advised for an entire year. Of course she blogged about it and now she has written a book about the experience. Then a couple of years ago there was the couple that had sex everyday for a year...no matter what. Well, of course they wrote a book about it. And of course there was Julie & Julia...and we all know how that worked out. Yes, with Meryl Streep playing a woman my age in a movie....am I bitter about that. FUCK YES! She is old enough to be my mother, dammit.

Anyway, I was thinking what could I do for a year which would put me into a position to write a book and of course that would give me better blog fodder than my two very boring children and super shy husband.

Here are some options:

•Pee on my neighbors front lawn every day for a year...well it might not be book material, but it would definitely get me booked!
•A journal about how I lost the spellcheck function on new post screen and my attempts to find it because I cannot spell or type worth a crap.
•button collecting
•mock Yao Ming
•stalking and then pinching total strangers
•downloading useless apps onto my iPhone (I do that one already!)
•work for a year as the crotch checker at my local airport
•try to figure out what is making that weird nose only to discover it is the icemaker
•read the same book to my children every night (again i already do this one...curse you Polar Express)
•button collecting
•not shave my legs and take a picture of the results every day
•place a crank call every day to Nancy Pelosi's office claiming to be calling from the Botox Lobby...oh wait that will never work. She would take the call EVERY time.

Best of Wordless Wednesday

2010-06-16T11:10:00.000-07:00

Building a better man is some serious business. My oldest also know how to pick up his dirty sock off the floor and change out the toilet paper roll, but I could not find this pictures when I was putting this together.

2010-06-15T11:07:00.000-07:00

This obviously first appeared on August 14, 2009 and I am going to need write a similar letter for the State Department regarding my new passport.

August 14, 2009

California Department of Motor Vehicles
Driver's License Inquires
P.O. Box 942890
Sacramento, CA 94290

Attn: Director of DMV

Subject: Recent error in licensing process

Dear Director:

I recently had the good fortune to having to renew my driver's license with your fine agency. Allow me to assure you that I am not being sarcastic. Having lived in both Georgia and New Jersey I have come to love the efficiency with which the California DMV operates. That appointment system is brilliant! I bet it was your idea. Don't believe the detractors who criticize the long wait time and the moody employees at the California DMV. Those people were obviously too stupid to make an appointment. Really, between you and me, they are too stupid to live and we ought to direct them to that new Death Panel thingy that has been in the news lately.

Forgive me, I digress. While I feel that my time spent at the DMV was productive and well spent. I do feel that there was some serious mistake was made somewhere along the way. Because you see somewhere between me standing before the camera and mailman delivering my new driver's license and serious error occurred. You can imagine my surprise when I opened my new driver's license to discover the face of a stranger looking back at me.

Who is this I said to myself. This woman is overweight, and old. Her hair is limp, yet unmanageable at the same time. Her nose is crocked and she appears to have an orange-ish glow about her. She is also clearly insane for why else would someone smile like that. In short, this is not me! I am young and svelte. My hair is the picture of perfection and I am certainly not orange. Also as you have no doubt been able to determine, by the tone of my letter, I am anything but insane.

I can only imagine that this poor, old, unattractive and crazy woman has infiltrated the ranks of the DMV in order to swap out her photo with that of a much more attractive person. You are just lucky that this happened with me and not to someone famous and powerful, like Cindy Crawford. Boy, would that have been embarrassing! Luckily for you I have brought this error to your attention before things could get out of hand. This is California and we can not afford to be angering any celebrities, now can we. I feel that I can overlook this error and continue on in my relationship the California DMV.

In conclusion, I suggest that you make every effort to find my missing photo, affix it to my driver's license and send it to me post haste. Thank you in advance for your assistance on this matter.

Sincerely,

The Mom(aka Amy)

Never

2010-06-14T11:04:00.000-07:00

This was orginally posted on September 29, 2009, but the sentiment still stands.

I never want their hearts broken. I never want them to hurt. I never want them to know sorrow. I never want them to feel the sting of someone else's stupidity. I never want them to go without. I never want them to struggle. I never want them to....

This is what I never want to happen to my sons. Of course as their mother I have an overwhelming urge to shield them. I would like to encase them in large bubbles and keep them at home forever, but that hardly seems reasonable. It would not be fair. It would not be right. I would be no way to live. I tell myself this.....

Life is just as much about failure as it is about success. You cannot know love, without heartbreak. You can never know pleasure without pain. You cannot know true joy until you experience sorrow. You have to be able to face other's in order to truly know yourself. You need to go without to be able to really enjoy plenty. You will not know true triumph without struggle. I know these things. I know that they need to experience life fully and that my job is not to shield but to help them learn to cope with life's problems.

BUT, with each struggle or roadblock my heart breaks for them. I can only hope that somehow my heartbreak helps to immunize them against their own.

On My Way Home

2010-06-10T10:59:00.000-07:00

Today the boys and I are leaving for Georgia to visit my parents and sister. I don't want the site to be barren for an entire week and I am not sure that I will be able to update that often from my phone, or my parents computer which is set to some weird stark white huge font setting.

So, my husband suggested that I do a best of week next week. I am not sure what that means as this blog has not been around that long and even he does not read my blog (so how would be know what was best). But I think I will just re-run some of my favorite posts.

I hope you all have a wonderful week and I will think of you often as I am sipping on my sweet tea.

Georgia at it's Finest

2010-06-09T10:37:00.000-07:00

This is were I get all mushy. I wanted to share this with you all because this song and these images are to me so indicative of my home. Sure we have some things in our past(and present) that we are not so proud of, but the fact remains that Georgia is one of the most beautiful place on God's green Earth. From the mountains in the North to the coast in the Southeast and with every inch of red clay in the middle, this place is and always will be my home.

I have made it clear to my husband and I will make it clear to boys when they are old enough to hear it; I want to be cremated. They can keep part of me to bury or keep near to them, but part of me has to go home. Part of me has to be rest in someplace green and warm and familiar.

Georgia at it's More Finest...remember I know about Guam

2010-06-08T10:24:00.000-07:00

Okay we may be rusty on the basics of island geography in Georgia, but we did spawn REM. That has got to be worth something, right?

Georgia at its Not So Finest

2010-06-07T10:13:00.000-07:00

This video is of the House Armed Services Committee. Admiral Robert Williard is being questioned about the stationing for something like 5000 US Marines and their families on the Island of Guam.

Now, it may seem odd that I am posting this video which obviously shines a less than stellar light on a fellow Georgian and the Georgia educational system in general. But I just thought it was funny. Also, I was hoping that you all might notice that while I make the occasional grammatical or spelling error, I do know that Guam can and will not tip over with the addition of about 20,000 people to its population. I mean of course not, the people of Guam are certainly smart enough to line everyone up on opposite coasts so that the island would stay balanced and not tip over. I mean, duh. To think otherwise is a insult to island dwelling people every where.

Homeward Bound

2010-06-04T11:11:00.001-07:00

In less than a week I will be flying home to Georgia to visit my parents and sister. I taking the boys with me and my husband is staying at home. This was all my idea and now I am despersately hoping that they will offer a Valium cocktail on the drink menu.

Thoughts of flying alone with a 2 year and a 5 year old notwithstanding, I am also not looking forward to being there. The original intention was to take my son's to where I came from so that they can have a better understanding of me as a person. I am now pretty sure that this lofty idea should have been shot in the ass the minute it reared its ugly head. Seriously, what was I thinking.

My parents are in their 70's and they only ever raised girls (18 years apart mind you). They are completely and totally unprepared for the hell that is two boys, at once. Not to mention that my oldest has some pretty serious anxiety issues ( I call him my little Woody Allen) and does not always get along well with my dad. Now my youngest is a living replica of my father, so they get along just fine. Like two freakin peas in a pod, but my dad just does not get The K Man. He sees the K Man's actions as proof beyond a doubt that my husband and I suck as parents. This is a constant and growing concern on my part because the K Man really senses these things and gets all the more anxious. I am hoping he will just spend most of his time outside with the dogs, because not matter what dogs love boys, and vice versa.

Then their is my mom. To say that my mom is a character is the understatement of the century. She is a woman of very strong opinions and feelings; and each and every one of those fucking opinions and feelings must be expressed IMMEDIATELY and LOUDLY. Thankfully she is also more than just a little obtuse and self obsessed, so my kids will not give her any problem whatsoever. In fact, I hope she notices that they came with me.

My sister is my sister. She has laundry list of problems far to long for this blog or any blog. I only hope that she can stay happy for the entirety of our visit. Otherwise she will just barricade herself in her room and my boys will be left with the impression that Aunt Kay-Kay is a door.

The last thing I am concerned about is the freaking humidity. For all those years I never noticed that humidity existed. It just was the way it was. But now it hits me like a ton and a half of bricks. From the moment I step off the plane I am completely and totally aware that humidity suck that this is why I spend a small fortune to live in California.

I need to be positive and think about little boys learning that green can last longer than a rainy season and that lightening bugs do actually exist! I need to think about honeysuckle and sweet tea. I need to think about what I do miss about home and not about what helped to drive me west.

Sweet tea, sweet tea, sweet tea.....ahhh I feel better now.