Monday Grumpies

Eh. It's been awhile again. It's how I roll. I prefer to keep you on your toes; anticipating the next great installment of, well, nothing much.

It's the Monday after Christmas and I'm in a funk. Not feeling it today. Easily irritated. Moody. I know, I know. This is different from every other day how? I'm too crotchety to even be sarcastic.

(OK, the use of the word "crotchety" cheered me up a bit...)

Due to my mood, I felt I would misdirect some pent up whatever it is I'm feeling at a very deserving person.

Specifically: Lil Wayne.

I mean seriously? What is this world coming too? EIGHT! grammy nominations.

Yes, I realize they announced this awhile ago, and honestly, as far as I know, the grammy's may have already taken place. I don't know nor do I care. I wont watch them. I don't want to see Britney perform (I'm assuming she is) or see Coldplay do anything but fall off the stage and die. (That's another one! Did you see how many damn nominations they got??)

Didn't the grammy's use to mean something? Didn't music? Talent? Oh yah, it's all gone the way of MTV and reality TV.

Please don't get me wrong. Lil Wayne has an entertainment value. His music is catch-ily perverse. I know I've enjoyed singing along to songs of blowjobs and/or candy, sex with cops, being rich, drugs, you know, all the good stuff. But is this guy good enough for awards?

As someone who puts out a new song/collaboration/remix/do-over every week, I'd say if anything, he's a genius. In doing my research for this blog (yes, yes I did), I discovered that he was in the gifted program at school, in drama, and even performed as the Tin Man in a production of The Wiz at the age of 12. He also dropped out of school at the age of 14. He is 26 now and disgustingly rich. Yah, I'm jealous.

And have you seen him "play" guitar? I used the bunny ears because from what I can tell, he sucks. Something feirce. I give him credit for trying. E for effort and all that. But give it up already. Can't you just accept your milions for your mediocre music and the fame associated with being possibly one of the weirdest looking/sounding/acting freaks ever to top Billboards Top 10?

Seriously. Have you seen this guy? Because I am so kind, I found a picture for you. I know, I'm awesome.Total stud, right? The picture sends chills down my spine. And not the good kind like that saucey waiter at the sushi place last night. Yeow. But the icky, lock you children in the closets, read the bible like hurry, someone sterilize his mother type.

Well, I feel a little better and it's about time to head out for lunch. And I probably should attempt to get some work done today. Eh.

Maybe it shouldn't...

But it does. It bothers the hell out of me. I'm so upset that I could cry.

The best part of Christmas, you ask? Giving gifts. I love to see people open up the gifts I give them. I put a lot of thought into what I buy. Especially my kids. Christmas is magical and I've been threatening them with Santa for months.

So for their *big* present this year, the one from Santa, I've bought them a Wii. I've been incredibly excited about this and can't wait til Christmas morning when they get to see what Santa brought.

Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, knows this is what the boys are getting.

Um, so when I ask Tony what he is getting the boys, what does he reply?

A Wii.

Are you freaking kidding me?

He knows I've already bought them one.

I've asked him not to give it to them at Christmas. Just to have it at his house and give them something else. If he even agrees to this (which he probably wont because he's ignoring my emails now), he'll probably give it to them this weekend.

I shouldn't be surprised but I really didn't even expect this from him.

And this after I bought his girlfriend a Christmas present from the boys. It's a frame, granted, but it's very pretty. I think now I'll just have to put a picture of me and the boys in it before I give it to her.

It's been awhile...

And as it was brought to my attention by one of my wonderful 4 loyal readers, here I am.

First of all, my children are the spawn of the devil. I'm not sure if that makes me the devil or Tony or if somehow the combination of our genes recreated the exact genetic make up of the devil but regardless, spawn of the devil. Actually, let me capitalize that: Spawn of the Devil. It's more appropriate.

Don't get me wrong, I love them and all blah blah blah. But seriously, does every mother feel like they are losing the battle that is motherhood? Or am I the only one who feels they have done something seriously wrong? OK, OK. In general, they are great, loving, affectionate, funny, smart, etc. etc. Well, maybe not so much Jacob.

Ahhh Jacob. He's my karma for everything I've ever done and/or will do to every person I may or may not have met.

A small example.

In going through the Christmas decorations, Jacob found a card holder. It's like a fountain of clips that come up and you put the cards in the clips and wa la, pretty! Well, each clip has a metal star. Jacob immediately ripped off one of the stars and begins throwing it around the house. My efforts to stop him were fruitless. He was a ninja throwing his chinese star around and that was that. I take the star away set it on the counter and go back to assembling the tree. Jacob gets the star off the counter and throws it into the kitchen.

That's when I heard the shattering glass. Luckily, this time it was not a window. No, it was the globe around the light hanging in the kitchen as seen to the right.

He's got a great arm, I tell you.







I flip the light on to see if it still works. Lightbulb looks intact. Here is what I see when I turn the light on...

Yep, it's the star. Inside. He can't get it now! I should have thought of that in the first place.


Next example, I believe my boys are on the verge of being kicked out of their daycare. Why? For fighting. It seems they both like to kick and punch other kids. Specifically in the head. Yesterday, Aidan punched another kid for "almost punching him" and Jacob kicked a kid in the head for, and these are his words "he made me mean".

Well, at least I didn't do it.

Now Aidan. He's actually pretty good. He has some self-control issues but overall, he's pretty good. However, I had a meeting at his school yesterday. As it seems, he likes to wander the class. While everyone else is sitting down listening to the teacher or whatever, he's wandering the class. His teacher actually has an agreement with him that he may wander as long as he pays attention to her and doesn't disturb anyone. And now I get to have him tested to ADHD at the request of the school.

I'm not sure how I feel about that. Maybe I'm just use to their energy (although it does tire me out many a nights) but I'm not a fan of medicating children.

I take that back. I wasn't until I picked the kids up yesterday from daycare and got the news of their training for UFC.

I'm now wondering if 3 is too young to medicate. I think with Aidan we can just focus on the the self-discipline and sitting still. Jacob, anything short of an exorcism in the form of Ritalin is probably futile.

I actually just looked up ages for ADHD medications... for shame. There are some for 3 year olds. I wonder if they still do electric shock?

Well that was a lot of complaining about my kids...

I said something to my mother last night about when it's all worthwhile, this whole mothering thing. On the rough days, sometimes it's hard to see how blessed you are or even like the little brats. I was having one of those nights so I did something about it.



Yah, we roasted marshmallows in the fireplace on wire hangers.

It was awesome.

Now Hiring

As I have just recently passed the 6 month milestone of singleness, I have put quite a bit of thought into what I want out of life, myself, my future, love, shoes, etc. You know, the important stuff. Granted, my life is pretty damn good right now but there are a few things that are not as I would like them. Specifically, I really don't feel like I have enough time. As of late, I have greatly slacked off in my domestic and everyday responsibilities (not that I've ever been that great at them).

For example, whilst I continue to wash the laundry, I do not fold it or hang it up. It spent literally a week on my floor, clean and wrinkled. I did spend a great amount of time on Saturday getting all my clothes hung, but the boys clothes are still on the floor. Also, I cannot tell you the last time I mopped. This is terrible, I know. I need to go through the boys room, again, and throw out or donate the excess toys. My carpet needs a deep cleaning AGAIN (this was done the week before Ike but is in desperate need). Don't get me started on dusting. My garage needs organized. I have plants in pots that needed planted into the ground. I need to finish the touch up painting in my living room.

The list goes on. And on.

It's not that I can't find the time to get all this done. I am home almost every night. The thing is, I'd rather do other things with my time. Anything, really. Play with the kids, read, drink, read, homework with Aidan, hang with friends, sleep, etc.

So here is the conclusion I have come to. I need a housewife. I've spent a lot of time thinking about this. I've got it all worked out. First, she will be home all day so there will be no need for the kids to go to daycare. Right there that saves me almost $800 a month to help offset the cost of an extra person in the family. She (I use she but I'm not opposed to a manwife - they just must fulfill the job as requested - i am an equal opportunity employer) would need to keep the house clean, all laundry clean, hung, folded, etc. and have my meals prepared each evening. I would also expect her to handle the paying of the bills because I am truly unorganized in that matter (I keep a little book at my desk that I write it all down in but it really is not a good system). And definitely handle all the grocery shopping. I'm so over that.

But what are the benefits for the position, you ask? Well, a monthly allowance, the honor of hanging out with me, your own vehicle (if you already have one, we can adjust your monthly allowance accordingly), and an occasional night off to hang out with your friends. Actually, most nights could be taken off. When I'm home, this person is not really needed (as long as their chores are done). I'm not looking for a companion or a spouse, just someone to fulfill the role as best as it suits me. I don't want someone prying into my life or harassing me about where I've been or whom I slept with last night. Ugh, that's so annoying.

Now I know what you are thinking. Why don't you get a nanny? Simple, I think it would cost more. AND, I want someone on call 24 - 7, like a wife. They can have their own room as the boys don't really use theirs as they sleep with me every night. They'd of course have to keep all the toys in there. I only have a two bedroom house, you know.

So ya, if you're interested, let me know.

Sewing a plus. I need some curtains!

Grocery Shopping

I went to the grocery store last night. With the kids. I am positive that one day, soon, I will forever be banned from Kroger. It is impossible to shop properly when they are with me. Aside from the grocery store, I do not take my kids out in public. The only reason I even take them to the grocery store is because we have to eat and we just can't have Hot Donalds (as they call it) every day. Mainly, I can't afford it. Plus, I overheard this group of gangsta thugs at the mall discussing the hormone levels in the beef at McDonalds (I'm completely serious here) so I feel I should try to give them healthier foods on occasion. Just in case the thugs are right.

I would prefer to shop from a list. It's more organized and you spend less money. I would also like to use the coupons I cut out. I can do neither of these things. Why? Because it adds time to my shopping adventure. Regardless of how much I have to buy, I have no more than 20 minutes to get from my car, find groceries, pay for groceries, and get back to my car before all hell breaks loose. And that is on a good day.

This does not mean that those 20 minutes go by smoothly. No. There is fighting, screaming, pushing, and crying, and that's just me. You should see the kids. Aidan's favorite thing to do is run across the floor and then slide on his knees into people and displays. He tells me it's "tight". Jacob spends his time either trying to climb out of the cart, demanding everything sugary he sees, or growling and/or shooting other shoppers.

How do I handle this? I run. It's like an episode of Supermarket Sweep. I don't even put my fruits and veggies into the plastic bags. I just throw them in the cart. There is no time to spare. Most times, I don't even know what I bought until I get home and unload. And EVERYTIME, I forget something important and end up with three items the kids threw in the cart when I wasn't watching.

I love my kids but the truth is, they just aren't fit for society. A zoo maybe. Public places, no.

I'm Your Ex, Not Your BFF

I will start today with a little History lesson to introduce the main characters in today's story. Most of you know all the characters but at the rare chance some stranger is reading this, I would not want them to be lost.

Erin and Tony were together around 7 years. They had two wonderful children during this time together. Erin and Tony could not get along. Erin and Tony ended their relationship just over 6 months ago. Now while the Erin and Tony relationship is still far from amicable 100% of the time, they are actually getting along far better than predicted by either party.

All this being said, there is still a lot of history there. While I believe at this point no party wishes to reconcile (or realizes it is in no ones best interest to do so), there are certain boundaries that should be kept. Specifically, that Erin and Tony are still recent ex's and are not BFF's.

So this past Saturday, at Aidan's soccer game, it comes to light that Tony is seeing a girl named Ashley. Erin informs Tony that if it is going to be serious between them and Ashley will be spending time with her children, that WHEN it gets serious, she would appreciate it if she could meet Ashley.

(Please excuse me at this point. I am confusing myself with all the third-person-ness and am switching to first.)

Ehh, where was I? Ok, so what I envisioned in my head when telling Tony at some point I would like to meet Ashley (or to this matter, any person spending a lot of time with my kids), that was at some point, down the road, we would arrange a meeting on neutral ground. They have only been dating a few weeks, after all.

Tony interpreted this to mean he should bring his new girlfriend over to my house on Sunday without warning me when he brought the boys home. I'm not easily taken aback, but her lurking in the dark waiting for him to tell me she was with him, well, that was a little freaky. I honestly could not help jumping back a little.

Don't get me wrong. She seems very nice. I almost respect her bravery. She had no idea what she was walking into and I can only imagine all the wonderful things Tony had to say about me (this is sarcasm). If I were her, I would be mad at Tony. You don't spring your new girlfriend on your ex without warning your ex. That really wasn't fair to her (or me, really). This is Tony we are talking about though.

The good part about him bringing her, they left in 5 minutes instead of the usual hour Tony hangs out.

In all, I found the whole situation weird.

Ahhh Politics

Really, I usually try to stay away from the political conversations. Mainly, because most people are idiots. And some of these idiots are my friends and I wish to keep them so. I do not dislike someone because they would actually choose to vote for McCain/Palin and it's not that I'm not open to their point of view and/or opinions. However, I do object when the conversation begins like this...

"So I read in this email..."

At this point, I throw up my hands and walk away.

Really? You read it in an email? Well then it must be true! Oh MY GOD! I've been completely wrong about this Obama guy since 2004.

Yes, 2004 I started following Obama. I watched his campaign in 2004 and when he won the Senate seat in Illinois, I called it. You can quote me on it. I said on November 4, 2004, "That man will be President of the United States of America." I'm pretty sure I had my hand over my heart and burst into a lovely rendition of the National Anthem immediately following.

Back to subject. It's not that I can't be wrong. I just don't think I am. And on November 4th, 2008, I believe this country will prove me right. Maybe I should send out a mass email. Quote the bible (even if incorrectly), accuse McCain of being in the KKK (he's white right?), Palin of being a lesbian goat herder, etc. etc. etc. I don't need actual facts. I just need idiots to hit forward and spread the crap across the globe. The sad truth is, some people will buy it. They'll eat it up with a spoon. And then, they will be at my desk saying, "So I read this email..."

Ugh.

Let me explain something, I work Oil & Gas. In Texas. In a predominately white office of wealthy men with big gas guzzling trucks and their own airplanes. There are 27 people who work IN my office (we have guys in the field). This is how the political party statistics work within the office:

Republicans: 26 Democrats: 1

Guess who that one is?

Yes. Me.

Just call me Token. Everyone else here does. In fact, we recently hired two new guys. Both out of the military. One from Alaska (eek!). While they were being brought around and introduced to everyone, I was introduced as a democrat.

Now don't get me wrong. I don't agree with 90% of the crap that spews out of these peoples mouths, but I like them. They are good, yet misguided, people. They also have lots o' money (mainly the men). They fall into the $250k plus a year that will be affected by Obama's economical plan. I wont. Over half this office will not.

They also have never "offended" me or treated me without respect. However, at least once a day, one or more will stop by my desk and bring up something about Obama. Often in ignorance. I tolerate it. Why? Because I know I will walk into this office on November 5th with a big grin on my face. I will not have to say anything. And the line to my office will begin to the right (no pun intended).

I have no idea where I'm going with this. Basically, don't forward or attempt to discuss with me any email that you have not already fact-checked, sanity-checked, or biased-checked. I don't want opinions. I want facts. I want to discuss the issues and the platforms ONLY.

NOT who has a bigger American flag pin or a nice rack (yes, this somehow is important to some in this election). If you are going to come at me with a quote, you better have the entire context of that quote.

And don't forward me ANYTHING.

One last thing, if you still believe Barack Hussein Obama to be a terrorist, I hope that you at least stopped for a second when you heard Collin Powell is officially backing Obama and thought, even for such a fleeting moment, "Wait! That guy wouldn't back a terrorist!" No. No he wouldn't.

How Well Do You Know Dwight Yoakam?

"Well you don't know me but you don't like me,
Say you care less how I feel.
But how many of you who sit and judge me,
Have tried my Chicken Lickin's Chicken Fries?"

I should write jingles.

Remember the trip to Walgreens? Of course you do. I just told you about it yesterday. Well, same trip. I stop in the small frozen food section to figure something out for the kids for first dinner. Second dinner was the chicken and dumplings I was cooking but that would not be ready for a few hours and they MUST eat the moment we get home. Regardless, this is what I find...

Sorry for the picture quality. I only have a camera phone.

So I bought 'em.

Besides the fact I've never been truly comfortable with a "chicken fry" (it's just not natural), can I mention how disturbing "chicken lickin'" is? Who licks the chicken? Is this chicken on chicken action? Does Dwight lick the chicken? That would be a good selling point, I think. "EACH CHICKEN INDIVIDUALLY LICKED BY MR. YOAKAM HIMSELF!" It could go right under the catchy phrase, "Just Heat 'Em and Eat 'Em"

However, I do not find that they are part of the Bakersfield Biscuit Brand a powerful selling tool. I lived in Bakersfield. It's not much to brag about.

In the Beginning...

Thank you. Thank you. Welcome to my island. Please hold your applause. Seriously. I can't hear you and look like an idiot.

So I will spare you much of the "who I am" and "why" crap because it's irrelevant. Instead, I will share a story with you. A story of love, self-discovery, and overcoming extreme obstacles in a quest for the meaning of life.

Ehh, not really. It's about three trips to Walgreen's to buy Hydroxycut.

Before I begin, I must mention that I realize Hydroxycut if probably bad for me. I don't care. I'm going on 27 (read: 30) and would like be comfortable in my body at least once. Do you have any idea what it's like being a skinny girl trapped in a fat girls body? It's like some cosmic joke that I wasn't let in on. I just get the punchline. And I don't find it funny. And yes, I realize I could exercise, eat better, vomit, etc. but I prefer the easy, highly-caffienated, self-destructive way. It's how I do.

Moving on...

A friend told me his sister lost 20lbs on Hydroxycut. Sounded good to me so I headed my wide load to my local Walgreen's. Found the aisle with the "diet aids". Of course, they are locked behind a plexiglass case. On the case is a sticker that says, "For assistance, press this button". I push the button. Over the intercom, interrupting the music, comes a loud dong followed by a ladies voice, "Customer needs assistance in diet aids" and the music proceeds.

Now maybe I'm alone here in my thinking but bear with me. By looking at me, one could easily infer that I could stand to lose a few pounds, at least by today's standards (and my snug pants). Is it TRULY necessary to tell ALL of Walgreen's that I need some assistance dieting??? I felt I was in that bad movie where the gum-smacking highschooler pages overhead for a price check on (fill in embarrassing item here). I wanted to run. Find someone fatter then me and stand next to her. Something, ANYTHING.

I regained my composure. I'm not one easily embarrassed or much concerned with the thoughts and opinions of others, especially towards me. But no. Walgreen's was not having that. Again I hear the dong. A double dong this time. Again I hear "Customer needs assistance in diet aids." Yes, thank you. I'm still fat. Haven't lost anything in the 30 seconds since you last told the store.

By the third announcement (yes third! poor customer service at this Walgreen's! and yes, THREE dongs this time), a young, attractive man in a Walgreen's smock approaches. I thank him for the announcement to the store, take my Hydroxycut, and strut to the front like I own the place.

Fast forward a few weeks. I'm out of Hydroxycut (and down 7lbs). I return to Walgreens... but a different one this time. I've already decided that I will outsmart Walgreens this time. They will not get me again. No sir. First, I wander the store seeking out other items I may need. What I'm really doing is scoping out the store. Where are the employees who can help me? How many skinny girls am I going to have to beat up for laughing? Finally, I find the "diet aids" case. And what do I find, to my joyful surprise, 4 feet to the right of the "diet aids"??? Another case with ANOTHER button! I'm so excited, I push the button! "Dong! Customer needs assistance in eye care."

YES! I've won! The only people who will know are me, key guy, and the cashier! Key guy doesn't care which case he opens! I'm feeling quite proud of myself here. But no, this would be too easy. In my excitement of outwitting that bitch on the intercom, I forgot to make sure they actually had the Hydroxycut I wanted. Nope, they were out.

I did my walk of shame to the front and purchased my shampoo and new razor.

Three days later, this would be yesterday, I stop back at the original Walgreen's. Walk straight to the "diet aids" and reach for the button. Then I stop. Turn, walk away in search of an employee. I'm just not ready for that attention again. My brilliant plan from before won't work as well here as there is no other cases in the same aisle. I'm debating finding the pregnancy test case and pushing that button. That would embarrass me less and actually give me quite a chuckle.

So, for my non-climatic ending (I'm like a man in so many ways): I found the same guy from before crouched in the Halloween candy. He turned out to be less cute and much less young than I originally thought. Embarrassment, apparently, is a lot like beer goggles.