Not Much to Post

So here I sit, having checked everybody's blog. I actually have time to post and I have nothing. Pooh!

I could talk about how utterly lovely my teen daughter is being lately.

She's at THAT stage. You know the one, the "we are out to get her and we treat her so shabbily" stage.

While I know I am not the perfect parent, I don't think I'm the worst in the world either. But she certainly does.

There are days I'm sure that aliens have visited and switched children with me.

I find it hard to believe that I got a fatter belly, saggy breasts and stretch marks only to have to put up with this crap.
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We have not decorated yet or put up a tree. This is awful but I don't feel like digging out the decorations this year.

Every January I pack my ornaments up and put them in the storage shed. Every December I go out to get them and they are buried under a ton of $hit.

I am tired of digging them out. I'm tired of undecorating the tree. I'm tired of the whole thing.

I want one of those Adam Sandler remote controls so I can fast forward through this month.

Am I the only Scrooge out there? The rest of you seem so cheery!
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Due to the stress of raising a teen and my Christmas angst, I am now mainlining chocolate. That's right. I heat it up in a spoon, load the syringe and put it straight in my veins.

Pity it flows straight to my belly.
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But let's not end this "whiny as all get out" post on a sour note.

There are some good things going on too.

SJ has become a talking machine. When we go in the store, all decorated for the season, he points to all the decorations and asks, "What's that?"

Now he points to the trees and says, "Christmas tree."

This kid, who never answers questions, also surprised me in another way.

I said, "You like to open presents, don't you?"

And he laughed and replied, "yeah."

You could have knocked me over with a feather, well if I hadn't been mainlining chocolate you could have.

Start Spreading the News

The word is out. We taste like chicken.
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In other news, there is a movement to get people to quit using the "n" word.

I would be happy to never hear that word again. It is, in my opinion, the ugliest word in the English language.

Maybe we should start a movement to wash people's mouths out with soap when they use it. If only we could.
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Anybody that has read Joke's blog, knows that he refers to his wife as TFBIM. (the fabulous babe I married) I wish all marriages were that happy.

But there are many of you who don't feel so loving toward your spouse.

Why aren't you people using TPHIM (the poop head I married) or TAHIM (the a-hole I married)? Join the game with me. Share the abbreviation of your choice.
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Cecil peed on the floor a few days ago. I scolded him and sent him outside.

When I tried to let him in, he looked at me, snuggled tighter in the outside dog bed, and refused. I didn't know dogs could pout, cats yes, but dogs?
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I have found yet another sign that you are a parent. You have four bathrobes and you can't find the sash to any of them.

On Your Mark, Get Set, Go....

It's time to start that holiday shopping. GAAARRRR!

Oh and in case you're not freaking out yet, there's less than four weeks to do it in. :)

I hope everybody had a great Thanksgiving. My husband was home on vacation from the 16th on, the 16th being his birthday.

I spent the whole day of his birthday getting ready. I made a grocery store run, baked two cakes, wrapped presents and cooked chicken cordon bleu. This was in addition to my usual daily chores.

Maybe I'm a sucker to do all this considering what I got for my February birthday. For those who don't remember or didn't read the post, it was the silent treatment. My birthday is the day after Valentine's Day and the argument started then so I actually got that same present for both occasions! Don't envy me now.

But now back to our regularly scheduled blog.

Anyway, the husband was on vacation and so was number two daughter. During the few times I wasn't too busy to blog, getting to the computer was like finding a nickel slot machine in Vegas after the senior citizen's tour has rolled in. There was a high chance of pulling back a bloody stump.

I should have written down what I wanted to talk about on paper, because I lost much of it. It couldn't have been too horribly important in that case though.

We had a lovely Thanksgiving. Every year I mess up one dish. It's my own little tradition, I guess.

This year it was the pie crust. I actually don't make a very good pie crust anyway, but leaving out the salt guaranteed it this year. I should have gone with the Mrs. Smith's pies, but oh no, I wanted to give my family the "pleasure" of homemade. It's only the best for MY family. LOL

I gained two and a half pounds. Who else wants to volunteer how much they gained? And if you lost weight, just shut your darn mouth! :)

I thought it would be incredibly hard to get back in a routine today, but am actually enjoying it. I like a routine. It calms me.

Does this mean I'm just an overgrown toddler?

Now quit reading this blog and start shopping!

Will Be Back Soon

We're visiting. I'll be back Monday, promise!

Dear Fellow Shoppers,

Please look closely at this picture. This is a trashcan. The purpose of a trashcan is to hold TRASH.







Now look closely at the next picture. This is a grocery cart. The purpose of a grocery cart is to hold GROCERIES.







Here is a list of things I do not want to find in the grocery cart I am preparing to use.

1. Your old grocery list
2. Your snot rag
3. Your bags
4. Your empty drink cups
5. Your receipt
6. Empty boxes
7. Crumbled napkins
8. Dirty diapers

Please note that all of the items I listed go under the definition of trash. If you need a place to put them, and you are confused, please view the top picture AGAIN! That's right. All those things go in the trash can.

If you can't find a trash can, take them with you and throw them away when you get home. I don't want your disgusting germs.

Note: For those of you who are reading this and agree, feel free to print it out and hang it on the bulletin board of your local store.

Road Trip

My Mom broke, well shattered, her leg in the spring of 2005.

She was clearing what she thought were empty bird nests off her patio using a broom and a step stool. One nest started falling at her head and it wasn't empty. She got startled and fell off her stepping stool, and the rest is a history of pain, surgery, physical therapy and more pain.

Birds are no longer one of her favorite animals so a parakeet for Christmas is out. Boo.

She had her second surgery on her leg recently. My grandmother flew out from Maine to help around the house. She is 77 years old and I know I'm lucky to have a surviving grandparent at my age.

So we have visited my Mom's house a few times in the last couple of months. It is a 4 1/2 hour drive so we don't go that way much, usually only about twice a year.

We drove down Thursday night. I stupidly started my trip with a water bottle. File it under the heading of, "What was I thinking?"

About an hour and a half into the trip, my teeth started floating so we found a rest area. There were a few odd looking maintenance men walking around slowly outside.

I used the bathroom and then my teen daughter went.

When she came back she asked me why the FBI was at the rest area.

I had missed the letters "FBI" on those maintenance men's chests.

I'm glad we arrived AFTER whatever had happened. I'm also glad I've never had to be an eyewitness. I would be worse than useless.

We made a second stop on our trip for gas and fast food.

We made a third stop when SJ said from the back, "Poopins."

It was actually tinkles, but he had had a diaper blowout and his carseat was soaked. I cleaned it with baby wipes and put paper towels on the wet spot so it wouldn't soak through to his butt.

He used the rest of the trip to pull the urine-scented paper towels out from under his butt and then fling them at me. Who needs a monkey when you have SJ?

During this visit, I realized that XM radio would be a necessity if I lived in this area.

My Mom wanted photos done with all the kids in it. Less than two hours before the photos, she let me know that my Grandma wanted me in them.

So I rushed out to buy a red sweater. I must have tried on every freakin' red sweater in Mervyns. Finally, I dashed home with about seven minutes to do hair and make-up.

Only my Grandma had just washed her hair. So first I blow-dried and styled it for her. I wish I'd had more time for it.

Then I changed my clothes, touched up my make-up, brushed my hair and borrowed some of my Mom's Aqua-Net. I didn't even know Aqua-Net was made after the eighties.

My parents had already left with the grandkids.

My Gran and I hurried out the door. I still only had one shoe half on.

The photographer didn't know what she was doing. (Wal-mart)

When she got done taking the world's crappiest photos, we got to preview them on the world's crappiest computer. It was SLOW.

I half-jokingly suggested it had a 286 motherboard and she looked at me blankly. Did I mention she was smart too and she had the personality of a house plant?

At least if I come out ugly, I can blame it on her.

Cross Your Fingers

I am going to try REALLY hard to stay off the computer.

It might seem laughable, but this is really hard for me. Still, feel free to laugh. :)

I'm going to visit my family this weekend so I need to get ready.

Have a wonderful weekend!

Instant $hithead - Just Add Red 40

SJ had to go to the dr. Friday for a cough. Both the girls had already had bronchitis and it was his turn.

The dr. gave us a prescription for an antibiotic, histinex and duradryl, all good stuff.

SJ spent Friday clinging to me while we sat on the couch.

By Saturday he was much better.

By Sunday he was bouncing off the walls and getting into EVERYTHING.

It occured to me that his cherry flavored antibiotic might have a little bit of red dye in it. Since I couldn't find out on google, I called the pharmacist today. He verified my suspicions. The antibiotic had the evil red dye 40 in it.

He has to take his antibiotic one more day. Man, will I be happy when he's done.
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I thought of another reason fur children are great.

When your Aunt Myrtle comes to visit, they don't repeat verbatim the not so nice things you said about her last week when you thought they weren't listening.

Of course, this might not apply to a parrot.
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My daughter "A" is off track from school. We went to Borders last week.

We were in rather a hurry, but the sole cashier had apparently loaded his bong to the hilt that morning.

I commented to the lady behind me in line that maybe the book store should offer him complimentary coffee.

She allowed as to how it might not be a bad thing if he had a few shots of espresso.

Finally it was my turn. He announced proudly to me that today was his twentieth birthday.

Ah, that explained it. He was taking twenty minutes to wait on each customer!

I kindly refrained from pointing that out.

And now I have a puppy to go protect from my children's brand of tlc.

Fur Children Are Sweet Too

Since my last post was about human children, it is only fair to mention fur children. I now have as many fur children as I have human children. So...

The Advantages of Fur Children (FC)

FC LOWER your blood pressure.

FC don't pound on the bathroom door while you are trying to have some privacy.

FC can stay at home with a chew toy while you go out to dinner.

FC will never tell you, "I hate you and I wish I'd never been born."

FC never blather incessantly when you're trying to read a book.

FC don't interrupt you two to three times in the middle of every single task.

FC don't throw their dirty laundry in the middle of the living room floor.

FC don't borrow your stuff without asking and then lose it.

FC don't hog up the telephone.

I'm sure there's a lot I've missed. Please feel free to add to the list.

The Theme Of The Week

The theme of the week on many blogs seems to be motherhood.

It's a topic that I had been planning a short post on. Now I'll look like a copycat. :)

Sometimes when my kids are arguing with each other, or worse with me, I find myself wondering what the heck I was thinking.

Why did I ever think I could be a parent? Why did I ever arrogantly assume that I could be responsible for another person, let alone three? Where can I hide the bodies?

Then there comes a night like Tuesday. SJ was wearing his cookie monster costume. We went to the first house and he had no idea what to expect. I need to say that every time I walk this kid around the block, he asks to ring people's doorbells. (He's nosy like his Mom.)

So first he got to ring a doorbell and then the super bonus...OMG they gave him CANDY!

His Dad was waiting at the end of the driveway. He ran as fast as his little legs would go, yelling, "Daddy, I got CANNY!"

It only took one house for him to get it. From then on, he was flying up front steps and ringing doorbells, multiple times if I didn't get to him first.

And then, joy of joys, when we got home, he was allowed to eat all the stuff he can't usually have. Mr. Hyper was hard to get to bed that night.

The next day I had to clean candy-induced diarrhea off his legs, his pajamas and the floor. But you know what? It was worth it.