April 10, 2008

My 7-year old daughter always has many burning questions and seriously, who doesn’t want to know this:

Mom is the Easter bunny like real?

Sure.

Ya but is he real? And…is he really a he? Or a she?

What do you think?

I think he’s a boy and I think it might just be some dude dressed up in a rabbit suit. I mean really, a giant rabbit going around with eggs and chocolate? Plus, rabbits poop ALOT. And I never see any rabbit poop in our house at Easter time.

True. Thank goodness for small miracles.

I think I’m going to write about this in my journal.

Good plan.

January 3, 2008

Well the holidays are officially over. Kinda. My kids are still home until the 7th but the presents are put away and the tree is down and the snowmen in their boxes. I did all of that on December 26th. After having my tree up since November 17th, it was time.

I’m sure all of the parents out there that do the whole Santa routine, put out a plate of cookies and a glass of milk and may or may not put something out for the reindeer. This year, we had to do something slightly different after a pre-Christmas conversation I had with my seven year old daughter.

Mom, this year we are not putting out cookies for Santa.

Um, why not?

Well, because have you seen him? He’s fat. He doesn’t look healthy. I’m sorry Mom, but Santa Claus just does not need one more cookie. I will not contribute to his unhealthyness. Is that a word Mom?

Ah, well I’m still stuck on the fact that you used ‘contribute.’

I’m seven. I know that stuff.

Of course you do.

So? Can we leave Santa something else instead of the cookies?

Sure, what do you want to leave him?

He can have some fruit and those reindeer can have a carrot. They probably pig out too and there’s no need for that.

You’re probably right.

Yes I am.

I think you are.

Good, it’s settled then. Santa can have fruit. And water. He doesn’t need to fill up on milk either. Water is good for your body.

Yes. How did you get so smart?

Duh, I was born this way.

There you go, that’s my heartwarming Christmas story. Santa is fat. Happy 2008.

Oh, and by the way, thank you to anyone, whether you’re a friend or a stranger, who clicked my posts and helped me get to the bonus level for work. It’s a great way to start out the new year!

October 30, 2007

I love Halloween. By love, I mean, who invented it? Who came up with the tradition to take huge, orange vegetables and cut the tops of them off, scoop out the enormous amounts of stringy shit and seeds and then attempt to be ‘artistic’ on the surface of them? Huh? Who? I’d like to slap thank them hard.

I decided that my 2 youngest children needed five pumpkins as opposed to just one each. Who buys 5 pumpkins? Someone who seemed to forget just from last Halloween how absolutely fun it is to carve pumpkins. Wow. She sounds like a moron.

By the time I was done carving the said 5 pumpkins, my hands looked like I got into Lindsay Lohan’s medicine cabinet. No, no, no, not like all white n’ powdery and stuff, but orange. My hands honestly looked like I’d had a bad fight with a huge bottle of self tanner. I was day-glowing. They’re still slightly ‘tanned’ today even after showering. Not the most attractive look.

As for the pumpkins, I might take pictures of them tomorrow night when they are all lit up and glowing and share them with you because I know ya’ll (my tribute to Britney) be waiting for them. I have nothing else to say, so I’m going to go eat a pumpkin.

May 21, 2007

Okay, what the hell is with a migraine that never fully goes away? I practically gag at the thought of popping one more pill but what can I do? Short of loping my head off, which, quite frankly, I kinda need, I’m not sure what the solution is. Perhaps if someone would kick me in the ass, then my concentration would be on my butt and therefore, I’d forget my head pain. I’ll sleep on it.

I took my kids to see Shrek 3 this weekend and I personally thought it was really funny. The ‘critics’, whoever the hell they are, said there wasn’t ‘enough donkaaaay’ but let’s remember people, the movie is called Shrek, so if Shrek appears in the movie more than the donkey, then duh. I thought all the characters were funny and laughed quite alot, so there. Bite it.

My husband bought me a lawn mower and a weed whacker/whipper snipper/thinga-ma-jiggy, so I’m guessing that means my job is to mow the lawn. However, I don’t mind because I like a nice lawn and I know I’ll hire the 12 year old across the street anyways do a great job and make everyone proud.

We hit a few yard sales on Saturday but since it was the long weekend here, they were few and far between. We did find a handful of good deals though and as well, did see a whole lotta shit out there too. One lady was selling trophies. As in, someone, perhaps her son, won for hockey or golf or some such thing. Ah, ya, his name was on them too. So I guess if a Randy Stairs comes along and wants to pretend he won some stuff back in ‘85, then maybe he’ll snatch those up. Another person was selling an old rotary phone from like 1980. In beige. Okay. It’s between an antique and out of date. So basically it means, it’s a piece of shit. Throw it out. Noone is going to buy it. Another lady was selling wire hangers. For $10. There were 7 in the pile. Listen, it’s a yard sale. People want deals. If you want to go into business with your wire hangers, fine. But selling them in a dirty cardboard box in your back yard isn’t going to make you rich. Just sayin’.

I did get 2 brand new picture frames for a dollar and a very nice lady gave my daughter a like new stuffed dog with a red leash and she was on happy high for the rest of the day. She called him doggie. Very original. My son got 2 hockey games, one for his computer and the other for his XBox, so he was also floating. Amazing how you can put a smile on your kid’s face for under $5 bucks. Dollar store here I come.

Oh speaking of Shrek again, I tried one of those McFlurry things from Rotten Ronnie’s today, the fudgy sludgy pudd n’ pie Shreky minty ones with pieces of fudge and candy in them. They look very green in the picture and claim to be mint flavoured with pieces of fudge. Sounds good in theory. Not so good in real. First off, the guy waiting on me, only gave me half of the small that I ordered. Sure I don’t necessarily need more jiggle to my ass by eating a whole small McFlurry but dammit, if I’m paying for the fucker, then I want the full small. Not half a small. Get it bud? Ya. Second, he didn’t mix it well enough, so most of the green coloring or whatever it was, toxic dayglo shit for all I know, was all clumped at the bottom of the cup. Third, it did not, I repeat, did not taste the least bit minty. False advertisement people! Unless dinkledorf forgot to mix the mint flavour into it, which based on his skills performing his tasks, is entirely, very possible. And lastly, the bits and pieces of ‘chocolate covered candy’, were in fact, rock covered candy and I’m pretty sure I broke a few teeth. I highly recommend NOT eating one no matter how much you love Shrek. Or maybe just don’t order it from the Mickey Dee’s at the Walmart I go to. Beware is all I’m sayin’.

It’s midnight and that means my pumpkin is going to rot or my stage coach is going to turn into a pumpkin or my bed is going to melt into pumpkin pie……..see, I’m tired and can’t even get that right. Sweet pumpkin, err, dreams.

May 14, 2007

Oh right, moms work 24/7, even on, you guessed it, Mother’s Day. I forgot. So even though this was ‘my’ day, I still had to be a mom. Funny that.

We couldn’t decide on what to do for our family day. We had wanted to go to a movie but there wasn’t really anything playing that the kids wanted to see. So after much humming and hawing, we decided to take the kids to the Shrine Circus, to which Ryan proclaimed that he hated circuses.

You’ve never been to one though. How can you hate it?

I hate the circus.

After much protesting, we convinced him to go. It said on the website, that the show started at 1pm. We arrived at about 12:54 and my husband kicked me out of the truck to go stand in the insanely long ticket line while he parked. He had tossed me his banking card. The line is moving fairly quickly, so I’m thinking that I’ll get the tickets before one and we’ll get half decent seats. I finally make my way to the front of the line, get to the ticket window and ask the guy if they take debit. Nope. Just cash.

Ah, can you make an exception?

Right.

So out of the line I get and go find my husband in the parking lot. I tell him the great news, that I stood in the mile long line up for nothing and that we need to have cold hard cash or we ain’t gettin’ in that damn big top.

We go into the mall and as we’re looking around for the debit machine, he’s telling me to get back outside and get back into the line. Fantastic. I head out and hop back into the now even longer line up, again waiting for my turn. I look to my right and see a frigging bank machine set up just outside the circus tent. Good Lord, couldn’t the guy at the ticket booth have maybe, oh, MENTIONED THAT?

I called my husband on his cell and tell him to forget searching the mall for a cash machine, that’s there’s one right in front of me. He comes back out and I see Ryan smiling. Oh, good maybe he’s got a better attitude about going to the circus now and we’ll actually have a drama free afternoon in a hot, giant tent. While standing in line, there were people passing out coupons that would save us a few bucks on the admission price, so I took 4 and that would only cost us $40 bucks to get in. My husband brings the cash over to me just as I get to the front of the line again and I hand the girl the 4 $10 each passes and the forty bucks. She carefully counts out the tickets THREE times and then says, ‘that’ll be forty dollars please’. Ah, ya, well I just handed you forty dollars, so I’m not about to hand you another forty. ‘Oh you did’? Yes. ‘Oh, I guess you did’. Ya think?

As we’re making our way to the front entrance of the tent, my son turns to me and asks if he should go to the truck now?

What? Why would you go to the truck?

I’m not going to like this. It’s stupid.

I can hear the panic setting in now, so I bend down to his level and explain that there are no scary clowns (I hope to God there aren’t), no man eating tigers nor will anyone call on him to perform in the big ring, so not to worry.

We get in and find some seats and then the crying begins. I see my husband talking to Ryan but whatever he’s saying it’s not working. I get Ryan to come over and sit beside me, where I let him lean on me and tell him to relax and that the circus might be fun and he might actually find parts of it entertaining. He’s not buying it however and is begging me to let him leave. Well since you’re a 5th grader and not in college, sorry but that will not be taking place. After much hugging, back rubbing and hushed tones to calm him, he settles in to watch but assures me that he’s going to hate every minute of it and that he’ll never go to another circus again. Fine by me because as I’m sitting in the hot, dark tent, remembering how I took Sean and Matt to the same freakin’ circus 12 years earlier, I forgot how much the circus tent smells like sweat, B-O and urine fun it really is. You know buddy, I’m thinking I’ll never go to another circus again either. You might be on to something there.

After two and one half very long hours, the show is finally over and Ryan lets me know that he hated it (even though I caught him laughing at things several times during the show) and he was relieved it was over. I can’t say as I totally blame the kid because after inhaling the nasty scent of what seemed to be stale pee and elephant shit co-mingled, I was sorta relieved that the circus was over too.

All in all it was a nice day even though I had to work overtime to console a weepy, paniced kid, smell elephant body odour/pee/poo, listen to tattling, put up with some whining, break up a fight and clean up a few messes. I also got some nice hugs, a phone call, some kisses, homemade pictures, a new purse and a whole lot of ‘I love you’s’.

April 10, 2007

Raise your hand if you’ve eaten way too much of your children’s chocolate from Easter? Your shirts are probably stained from it too right? And you forgot to go pee in the toilet and just did it in your pants because you were too busy gorging yourself on chocolate? Am I right or am I right? Oh. Anyhooo, moving right along…..

I think the Easter bunny was a little tipsy this year. She ended up putting a bottle of bubbles in her son’s Easter basket. And what’s the big deal about that? Well the bottle was a duck. Yes, a duck filled with bubbles. You’re thinking to yourself, what’s the big deal? Well, the retarded Easter bunny forgot that the 11 year old boy that lives in this house is terrified of ducks. Although we don’t know why, he just is. So great job Easter bunny. You suck rock.

We had such an exciting Easter lemme just tell you. I am probably a bitch for telling you all about our excitement because then you’re going to be jealous and then end up throwing food at me but that’s okay, my shirt’s already stained from the chocolate remember?

I was awoken at 7am by my daughter. She apparently didn’t get the memo, that Easter isn’t like Christmas and mommy doesn’t give a rat’s ass about baskets and candy and that we do not need to wake at the ass crack of dawn to do an egg hunt. It’s really just not necessary. So she pestered me for 2 AND A HALF HOURS while we waited for hubby and her brother to wake up. They decided to sleep in. Just my luck. She just couldn’t believe that we had to wait for them to get up. I told her that, sure, you go wake them up and see what happens, I dare ya. She decided that maybe she should listen to her mother and instead of waking them, she tortured me with reasons why we should wake them up and how life isn’t fair when you wake up super early because you’re excited it’s Easter and everyone else just wants to sleep. Oh the injustice of it all. She made me do a questionaire. She asked me things like ‘do you think the Easter bunny is just some dude dressed in a giant rabbit costume or do you think it’s just a giant bunny’? And ‘if you were allowed to rob a bank, would you’? And ‘what’s your opinion on parents who are snoopy, you know, parents who go through all your stuff’? What is she 17? Am I on trial here? Geez. All I wanted was to be able to sleep until 8am. Is that asking too much? I think not.

Once hubby and Ryan got up, the kids rifled through their goody baskets and then did the chocolate egg hunt. They told me the Easter bunny was kinda lame in his/her hiding of the eggs and that he/she should make it harder next year. Like they aren’t 2. Soooorrrrry. *Note to self* Don’t hide eggs while drinking eating.

After all that fun, we got dressed and went to the new house to work. We spent all day there. All day. I was envisioning a barbequed steak and a baked potato and thought for sure we’d go home and make it a dream come true. Instead daughter begged her father to take us to McDonald’s. Yum. I love eating there so I can feel nausous and bloated and become delusional from the toxins in their food. It was the best Easter dinner ever. Ever. I know, I know, you’re so freakin’ green with envy right now that you almost want to beat me up. I know I shouldn’t have said anything but I’m evil like that. I just have to make you all drool over my daredevil, livin’ on the edge of my seat lifestyle. It’s a habit that I just can’t break.

I’m off to do more packing. How can one person have that much stuff in her closet? I mean really, who has that many trophies for being cool and sexy in their room? Sheesh, it’s embarrassing for me. It’s just not fair to you how awesome I am. But you’ll get through it and love me just the same.

November 3, 2005