There's no point arguing...I'm not listening

Completely heartwrenching

2009-10-05T18:09:00.002-04:00

This is going to haunt me for a long, long time.

http://media.causes.com/590365?p_id=37516772

My own personal Emmy Awards, Part I

2009-10-04T23:20:00.003-04:00

After a few glorious months of watching cable, I have taken it upon myself to grade the shows and even the commericals we so graciously pay $50/month for. The so-called Real Emmys are a trumped-up lot of fluff that, in my ever-so-humble opinion, have nothing to do with actual viewers' opinions. And, of course, my categories will not resemble the Real ones in any way, shape or form. But mine are probably better. Oh, and I also just threw in a bunch of comments about stuff kinda randomly.

So the winners for 2009, (which I dub the Year of the Nurse Show) are:

The winner for the show with the most superfluous amount of judges, hosts commentators, etc goes to: Iron Chef America. Really, how many frickin' people need to be in the hallowed Kitchen Stadium at any given time? Is Alton Brown that hard up for money? And why can't he just be the one to walk around and report what's going on on the floor? Do we even need that other guy whsoe name no one can ever remember anyway??

The winner for the show that proves a girl really will do almost anything to get on TV: Man vs. Food. Have you ever paid any attention to how many chicks go up and kiss the man I believe to be the nastiest, greasy slob to ever grace a cable network?

The winner for the company whose cheesy commercials are most likely to bring tears to your eyes: AT&T. Come on, tell me that "lost dog" ad didn't make you tear up.

The winner for the stupidest commercial (of the week, at least): The one that begins with "1 out of every 4 women can misread a traditional pregnancy test." Seriously? Then 1 out of 4 women need to be sterilized to protect the gene pool.

The winner for the most over-done theme: Vampire Anything. Really, it's over. Move on.

The winner for the dead celebrity we're all tired of hearing about: Michael, of course. Did you really even need me to announce the answer to this one?

The winner for the dead celebrity who didn't get near enough coverage because of other events: Farrah Fawcett. Poor, poor Fallen Angel.

And let's not forget our other winners, who are all the celebrities who DIDN'T sell out to a reality show.

Honorable mentions:

Best possible new show ideas: The Kardashians Take Kosovo, Stacy London Will Do a Commerical For Anything, TLC Special Truth Be Told: I Maimed Flav-R-Flav

Aaarrrrggghhhh!

2009-10-04T23:12:00.003-04:00

I pride myself on my better-than-average command of the English language. I am quite a good speller, I only use words when I am sure of their correct punctuation and context, and I try not to leave any participles dangling. However, I find myself with the sometimes misfortune to find myself paired with a partner who butchers this language on an almost daily basis.

Quick Example: This summer, I was explaining something to our kids and I used the phrase "as the crow flies" when I was talking about distance. Well, my dear husband picked it up and filed it away for later use. For the next two weeks or so, he used "as the crow flies" as often as possible without once getting it right. Say he was trying to tell me what happened in a movie or TV show that I missed. Instead of giving me all the tedious details ("and then House sneezed") he would say, "well then, as the crow flies he just decided to...." Let's not get into his use of the words "florensics" (yes, he puts an 'L' in there) or "coupe."

Tonight's example: All three kids are asleep and he and I are enjoying a rare treat: actually watching a show together without constant noise and/or interruptions. A man used a word completely inappropriately and I groaned and expressed my displeasure to Dear Husband. Dear Husband agreed. "Yeah," he says, "he's just trying to sound smart. He used that word totally out of contest."

I repeat: aaarrrrggghhhh!!!

The Secret Life of the American Preschooler

2009-09-03T16:46:00.002-04:00

Exciting, huh? Yes, my youngest son has been introduced into the wide world that is the public school system. Pity the fools that saw his name on the registrar and still decided to keep the doors open.

Today was day two for him.

3:31 pm: Exit bus talking excitedly but totally incomprehensibly.
3:34 pm: Enter house and strew shoes, socks, backpack, crayons and art projects from front door to kitchen
3:41 pm: Eat snack, preferably whatever was leftover in the lunchbox that has now been sitting lukewarm for about 3 hours
3:55 pm: Still in excited rush-mode, run figure eights through the hall-study-living room with a plastic light saber
4:04 pm: Fall asleep on the living room floor in front of Spongebob rerun

I think I like preschool

Conspiracy or Coincidence?

2009-08-05T07:18:00.002-04:00

One thing you should know about me: I am not a conspiracy theorist. Really. However, I do believe the moon landing was staged. I don't think it was done with malice, but I do think it was done.

Another thing you should know: I worship at the alter of my public library. Best. Place. On. Earth.

That said.....

I was reading a magazine article the other day and they used a book, published in 1999, as a source. I jotted down the title to search for in the inter-library loan system(state-wide). When I went to search, the book was not in the system. That's not so unusual all by itself. Afterall, there are something like 5 million books in print at any given time and I do not really expect the Ohio library system to purchase a copy of each one. So instead of searching for a specific title, I did a general search. I tried "moon landing hoax" "apollo 11 hoax" and every variation I could think of. There is not a single book about the subject available through Ohio public libraries. Odd.

So just to amuse myself (and my inner Paranoid was curious) I googled some books about the JFK assassination, particularly those that suggested the government/CIA/lemurs on crack did it. I wrote down 7-8 titles. One interesting one was pretty bold, the title was something like "Why the CIA killed Kennedy." Then I went back to the library site. They don't carry any of those books either.

Now I know the library needs permission to purchase every book. I know the state or whoever has the ultimate power to say which books are ultimately allowed to end up on the shelves for the reading public. But, really? I issue the challenge that nobody can find a book that says the U.S. government did something 'wrong.' The library just won't carry them. (Yep, I know history is written by the winners - I went to public school after all)

Part of me wants to say it's a conspiracy. (looking over shoulder furtively) But I'm not that kind of person. Really.

Versatile, isn't it?

2009-07-24T11:39:00.001-04:00

I have discovered that everyone I know, with the exception of siblings raised in the same house, make Ramen noodles in a different way.

How I lost 5 pounds in 7 days

2009-07-12T13:45:00.002-04:00

Yep, not a huge loss, but one I'm proud of. I'll even share the secret to my success. Are you ready for it?

Diet and exercise.

Surprising, huh? No magic fat-melting pills, no fad food programs, no weight-loss group like WW that cost $XX a month plus food.

I cut calories and fat and did about 30-45 minutes of moderate workouts everyday. Isn't it amazing? Why has everyone been keeping this from us all these years?! Those bastards.

The only "fad" thing I did was replace the diet soda I was drinking with unsweetened green tea. (Totally unsweetened, no sugar, no artificial stuff. Blech). I was drinking a LOT of diet soda.

I forced myself to get up and do something. Instead of sitting watching TV, I got up and cleaned out a closet. Rather than lay on the couch and read a book, I rearranged the cluttered shelves in the study.

And you know what else? I'm going to keep doing it. I know it's drastic, but those 5 pounds are just the tip of the iceberg.

The Advertising Writers Just Aren't Putting In The Effort They Used To.......

2009-06-18T08:27:00.002-04:00

Commercials and advertising in general is a big business, right? And commercials cost a lot of money to film & air, right? My vast years of movie-watching have of course made me an expert on this.

So I am going to describe what is officially the Dumbest Ad Ever. And I think you will agree.

Firstly, it starts off with Brooke Shields. This should be all the evidence you need, but I'll continue. If you are using Shields as your spokeswoman, you have already lost your "edge."

Anyway, Brooke goes on to describe some stuff I didn't really listen to.

Then I hear this: "For the health of my mouth, my dentist recommends Colgate Total." And about 1.6 seconds after this we have a shot of the dentist who says "For the health of your mouth, I recommend Colgate Total."

Ooooooookay.

I am assuming this bit of dialogue was written by the janitor while the Ad Team was on a lunch break. Come on people, you have about 20-30 seconds to grab my attention and make me want to buy your product. Redundant much?

Top Ten Things the World Can Do Without

2009-06-10T09:24:00.002-04:00

I have spent the last few weeks watching cable and....well, actually just watching cable. Not much else has gotten done. I have been inundated with the "Top" lists: Ten Best Bikini Bodies, Ten Fatal Women, Twenty Horrifying Hollywood Murders. (And who decides these anyway? I know I wasn't consulted. I think that #12 of that last list should be the death of the show FARSCAPE, but of course nobody asked me!) So I have made my own list.

10 THINGS THE WORLD CAN DO WITHOUT (the television edition):

10) Bilingual cartoons. Uno! Dos! Tres! How cute. Now teach the kids something they might really need to translate in life. Hey boys and girls: ¡Hice una bomba en forma de tubo hoy!

9) Kendra and other "celebrity" reality shows. (You're on TV because you're famous: you're famous because you're on TV. Do you see the vicious cycle?) But especially Kendra. That laugh make my brain itch.

8) Ads for Viagra and Viagra rip-offs. Does anyone else find these as creepy as I do? Trust me, if a guy wants/needs it, he'll Google it.

7) CD compilations and anthologies of music nobody listened to or bought the first time it was released.

6) Pitch men. These guys will get enthusiastic about hamster food if they're paid enough.

5) Celebrity reality shows. Oh wait, I mentioned that one already? I guess that's because the world can really really do without them.

4) Any show that has "Dumbest" or "Wildest" in the title. Even if it has D-List celebrity commentators. Especially if it has D-List celebrity commentators.

3) Kate. Jon + 8 can stay. For now.

2) Any television program that shows me how I can transform my moderate suburban home into a moderate suburban home with a $15,000 laundry room.

1) The combining of celebrity couple names. 'Nuff said.

Come to the Dark Side. We have.......cable?

2009-05-23T10:06:00.003-04:00

Ah, cable. The wonder of dozens of channels just waiting for you to pick up that remote. I like to say that I have not had cable (not even basic, not even the one single news channel that almost everyone can pick up) since the day I moved out of my parents house almost exactly ten years ago. I did, however, enjoy a brief stint of about 6 months with satellite. That was made even more pleasurable since we lived next door to a guy who worked for DSS, and he rigged our satellite card to pick up EVERY SINGLE FRICKIN STATION. Like, 700 channels. We could watch pay-per-view sports and porn and new release movies all for free.

But I digress.

Our family got cable yesterday, about 16 hours ago to be exact. No one in this house has spoken to each other. OldestSon is ensconced in his room, not able to decide on one channel, but clicking through them at a speed fast enough to induce seizures in even the most staid person. MiddleSon is damn-near orgasmic by the fact we have not one but four channels that show almost nothing but baseball 24 hours a day. YoungestSon, our 3 and 1/2 year old, just likes to stand in front of whichever TV he can so that you can't see through him. And my DearHusband has developed ADD in the last 12 hours: "Hey honey! Super Plasma Beast is on channel 42. But Cold Forensic Investigators in on 61! And they're showing CSI: Cleveland on 12! Agh!!! How do I choose? Oh no! Look, it's The Ghost Catcher Paranormal Adventure Show on station 33!" (Cue blubbering tears)

There is one major change in cable since I was a wee girl. I did not know "fuck" was acceptable on some of the paid cable stations. And I don't mean HBO or Showtime. I'm too cheap to subscribe to those. But about 1/3 of the stations throw it around now like nothing. I watched a funny ass Aussie comedian last night who said it about 6 x a minute. But what the fuck was I watching an Aussie stand-up guy for? Huh. Because it was on, I suppose, and there wasn't very many commercial breaks.

Okay, commercials. Of course I knew I'd have to deal with them again and I have quite a few things to say on the subject. For the last few years, everyone has said, "Oh did you see the commercial with...." or "I really hate that ad that....." Sorry, no cable, don't know, don't really care.

I have read and heard a lot of things about the vile marketing targeted at our kids. I hated the companies that produced these ads when I heard that my kid could watch something like 10,000 ads a year for their sugar-and-fat-laden products. Can I tell you something in secret? Seriously, don't tell anyone. I did not see ONE SINGLE ad for junk food or candy in my hours of spaced-out-couch-potatoed-ness. I saw one single fast food as for Taco Bell. Ronald's ugly mug didn't show up once. I also saw only one commercial for breakfast cereal, and that was about an hour ago as my kids had Spongebob on. But they are watching what now passes for Saturday morning cartoons, so if I don't hear "I'm lovin' it" I'll be shocked I tell ya.

I did see dozens of ads for pills. Pills of every make and model. Pills to make you fat or thin. Pills to make you happy or calm you down. Pills for every disease real or imagined. And, of course, "natural male enhancement." Sorry, not touching that with a 20 foot pole. (That's what she said....*snicker*)

Late late late last night every other ad I saw was for mattresses, especially Craftmatic adjustable beds and Tempurpedic. Especially that Tempur one. Let me say one thing about that commercial. It starts out with a man & woman kind of hugging on a bed. The camera pans back and you see the bed, complete bed not just a mattress, is sitting on the edge of a pool in the middle of a huge field. What the holy blue fuck is that about?

Then I thought all these companies were morons. (Well, I think that a lot, but it was really prominent about 2 am last night) Who the hell decides to buy a mattress, a quite expensive one, at 3 am? I mean, do they think all these lazy fatasses are just lying in be.........ah. Nevermind.

And while I was flipping between Forensic Files and Mythbusters, I discovered a gem. A very annoying gem, but one nonetheless. John and Kate plus 8. Huh. I watched about 13 episodes of this last night. Wow. Since it was a marathon type thing, I saw the kids as babies, as 3 year olds, I watched as that nagging bitch had her stomach fixed. But none of it was in order, chronologically, so I'm still a bit confused. Judging by the previews for the next show, I'm guessing they split up or something. But I'm still going to tune in Monday @ 9 to catch the premier of the summer season. I hate myself.

Wow. I really am quite stupid

2009-04-16T12:52:00.002-04:00

You see, I darn near killed myself trying to retreive a mini Reese Cup Egg from it's hiding spot.
On my computer desk is a little cupboard. This is the kind with no handle or anything, but that you push a corner of to get it to pop open. This desk is really old, and I think we are the 5th or 6th owners as it gets passed from house to house. The cupboard doesn't always pop open when you press it, and I really should've known better than to hide a candy stash there since it sticks so much.

But, as I said, my Reese cup eggs (the white ones, mmmmm) are hidden in there. I finish a ton of housework and stuff this morning and decide to reward myself. But the cupboard sticks. I pound on it for 5 minutes and it still won't pop. **Brilliant idea coming** I grab a thin metal ruler to stick in there and try to pry it open. But apparently this pressboard desk is more powerful than a piece of steel. The ruler bends a little, comes loose, and then flings back and cracks me right in the nose, on that spot on the bridge that brings instant tears to your eyes. Pissed off and blind with tears, I lean against the desk. And my hand hits the cupboard door. And it pops open. Just for that - I'm eating TWO Reese eggs.

But thinking back, this is still not as stupid as the day I almost killed myself with paprika. I had made deviled eggs and the container of paprika was still open on the counter after I finsihed putting most everything away and cleaned up. I picked it up to put it away and a cloud of fine red dust rose from the container. I sneezed, banged my head forward on the bottom of the cupboard and fell flat on my ass on the floor - out cold. I came to just a few minutes later, hand banging, and the paprika still in my hand.

A completely self-serving whiny-ass post

2008-11-20T12:18:00.002-05:00

Just to get it off my chest. Of course, i take another hiatus from posting, and then I have to come on here and dump all this crap off.

Okay, so my DarlingHusband has his oldest son, henceforth known as SmartAss. staying with us. SmartAss is working with Darling, trying to save up money, get a place of his own, and move his girlfriend (Henceforth known as MeanBitch) up here. But before I get onto the whiny-ass part, you need some background.

Darling had a screwed up childhood, and a mostly screwed up adulthood to be honest. So he has (or thinks he has) a lot to atone for. So he has this odd way of showing it to the people he harbors guilt over. SmartAss stayed with us for a year when he was 14-15. When he first moved in, it was Darling, myself, MiddleSon (who was 2 at the time) and SmartAss. And Darling was all "Son! Son! Sorry i was such a shit! Let me shower you with attention and money and show you how great I really am!" Fast forward about 5 months. Darling and I get custody of his other son, (who was about 3 at the time, and is now always referred to as my Oldest Son, since I have raised him.) And the processed repeated itself: "Son! Son!" So on and so forth. Fast forward about a year. SmartAss moves back with his mother, several states away, at the end of the school year. Darling's Brother moves in with us after being released from a vacation with the federal penal system. You know what's coming: "Brother! Brother!" Well, Brother ended up with us for a year and a half, and it went so seriously sour I can't even get into it here. Anyway, we had a peaceful for years, and added Youngest Son to our family. So you see, when Smart Ass moved in with us at the beginning of October, it started all over again.

Now I'll try to explain about SmartAss. He is almost 20. And he acts like it. Darling and I have gotten as far as we have by having a cordial, polite relationship. I know many couples who argue over petty things and call each other names and stuff, but Darling and I do not do that. We are not rude or sarcastic to each other. We actually like each other. SmartAss comes into the picture and starts getting lippy. Just the usual wise cracking smart ass comments that are not appreciated by the person who cleans the house, does all the laundry, cleaning, cooking, etc for three adults and three young boys. And I do not need Oldest Son and Middle Son hearing that crap either. In this house at least, respecting your mother still means something.

SmartAss is a new dad. My little step-grandson is about three weeks old at the time of this posting. His mother is MeanBitch, and she lives several states away from us. Mean Bitch also has 2 toddlers from a previous relationship. Needless to say, I do not want MeanBitch living up here. I have enough drama of my own, thank you very much. MeanBitch and Smartass have nightly 2 hour long phone conversations where they do nothing but yell and insult each other. MeanBitch keeps our phone lines buzzing all hours of the night and day.

Anyway, I have about had it. SmartAss is an eating machine. Food that was planned to last for 5 or 6 meals is getting eaten in 2. He s lazy and does nothing to help around the house. Case in point: a few weeks ago, I was sick. Not just sick....but sick! I had a horrible flu and pink eye in both eyes. I was lying on the couch, trying to ignore everybody and everything. SmartAss and Darling come home from work and proceed to shower and eat dinner that I had ready for them. Neither SmartAss nor Darling have a lot of work clothes, so i had been doing a load of laundry nightly. earlier this day, I had done a load of the other kids' clothes, and they were still in the washer. SmartAss yells from the laundry room that he "can't put his stuff in because there is stuff already in it". So I drag my ass off the couch and switch loads. Now seriously, how hard would it have been for a healthy hardy young man to take wet clothes from the washer and place them in the dryer?! Apparently, it was just too damn hard. So is doing dishes, even ones he creates all for himself that were not part of a meal I cooked. And picking up after himself. Or making his bed. Or putting his clean folded laundry away after I finish with it. Or picking up a few groceries at the store to replace the ones he uses. The kid ate 4 packages of ramen noodles in one sitting at lunch, and then packed away 4 pork chops, rice and corn for dinner. (He skipped the beans - the one thing I make that he won't touch) Hot dogs and mac n cheese? I can no longer cook 10 hot dogs and one box of mac. I know have to make at least 16-18 hot dogs and no less than three boxes of mac. 4 bowls of cereal for breakfast, 4 grilled cheese sandwiches as a 'snack' after dinner. You get the idea.

And of course, SmartAss is making plenty of money working for Darling. He sends a good chunk of it down to MeanBitch. The rest he spends on fast food (which Darling and i do not buy on principal), bowling, junk food, etc.

And if MeanBitch does move up here - we have another problem. This woman (though i hesitate to call her that) has no idea how to live on her own. She never has. She has no way to set up a home for herself and her children. (She is 21, by the way) I asked SmartAss what kind of furniture and stuff they had that would need to be moved up here. Nothing. A few old mattresses for the kids, and some toys. Oh wait! Not quite 'nothing' he adds. The kids each have one of those $400 Power Wheels ride-on toys, and they have two computers and a big screen TV. But no couches or tables or chairs or dishes or pots and pans or curtains or a microwave or any appliances or towels or anything else you need. Sorry, you do not "need" a big screen TV. You do "need" a refrigerator. Darling and I do not have the money to help them get set up. (Well, we sort of do, but with Christmas and two kids birthdays coming up, not to mention bills) We have been trying to clean out and declutter ourselves, and have sold or given away almost all of our extra household crap. Also, I do not particularly want to help SmartAss and MeanBitch.

And with SmartAss and MeanBitch, I also would get the drama of CrazyDrunk, who is SmartAss's biological mom, who lives in his home state. All these years, I have been so thankful that CrazyDrunk lives so far away. But now her "only grandbaby" would be moving up here. And with them would be ThugChick, SmartAss's juvenile delinquent and high-school dropout little sister who enjoys spending her days sleeping around and beating up her current boyfriend's mom. No, I am not making this up.

I have had enough........

Teaching my son everything he needs to know....on the way to football practice

2008-09-05T07:01:00.002-04:00

I am blessed with three sons. My oldest is an inquisitive sort, which I -usually- greatly encourage. I have honed his manners enough that his questions are no longer of the "Why is that man bald?" and "how come that lady is so fat?" variety. I have told him that any time he asks me an intelligent question, I will answer to the best of my ability. I have become quite good, if I do say so myself, at explaining difficult things at eight-year-old level.

Now, five days a week, OldestSon and I make the 1/4 mile 10 minute drive to football practice. Some days we take the scenic drive by the river, othre times it's through the center of town, hitting every red light along the way. And of course, my town thought it good planning to stick a red light every 20 feet through our busy 'downtown' section. (Downtown consists of 4 blocks and about a dozen businesses.)

We pass a small family-owned pizza chain that shut down recently. Dear OldestSon asks why it closed. Cue a brief but informative talk about Huge Corporations versus Small Family-Owned Business. Somehow, in that short drive, I got through to him. My son now hates WalMart. :-p

On the way home, I was telling him to take a quick shower once we got home, because MiddleSon would need one too, and we still had spelling words to do before bedtime. Cue an 8 minute explanation of water heaters. (In kidspeak, a hot water heater is like keeping a pot of boiling water on the stove. If you use it all, you can fill it back up, but it needs time to heat up again).

Sitting at home last night after the kids were in bed, it dawned on me that since football started in late July, OldestSon and I have had some interesting, intelligent and certainly diversified conversations.

Abraham Lincoln, slavery, a brief history of the civil war (this came up because he wanted to know why Lincoln was important enough to get on a coin *and* a bill)

The war in Iraq, the WTC attacks (because, sadly, we lost some young men in our town over there, and he was curious about the new memorial)

Hybrid cars, electric cars, the (ridiculous) price of gas

Why riverfront property costs more, real estate costs in general (Why is anyone homeless? he asks, When there are all these houses?)

Sadly, my own education seems to be lacking, because there have been quite a few questions I actually had to go home and google so I could answer them. The most recent example was: what animal does pepperoni come from. Huh. Um.....pig? Maybe? (P.S. after reading exactly what pepperoni is, I am seriously considering plain cheese pizza from now on)

I feel good, somehow, knowing my son is learning things he wouldn't otherwise. I feel better knowing that it is me he chooses to ask. And I feel best when i hear him explaining it to someone else.

However, I am still dodging the question about where babies come from.

The trials & tribulations of Saturday

2008-06-29T10:09:00.002-04:00

Yesterday was a busy day for us. The town hosted a safety day for the kids in the morning (basic first aid, how to handle minor emergencies, etc) followed by a Fireman's Parade The parade was actually, I think, intended as a jab at the businesses along our small town's main street. You see, at the last Christmas parade, the shops all got together and requested that the ambulances & firetrucks NOT use their sirens when going down these 2 blocks. The way the buildings are set up, the sound just reverberates & echos and feels 10x as loud as normal. So they didn't get to use the sirens in the December parade. And then they planned a parade and invited about 60 ambulances & fire trucks from neighboring areas. And blasted their sirens All. Along. Main Street. Go them, that is exactly my idea of revenge. They did at least hand out ear plugs before it started for the spectators.

Then we had OldestNephew's bday party. Just your usual party for an 11 yo boy. Nephew's father, my wonderful (*snort*) Brother, is however, and amateur comedian. Or thinks he is. He was setting up one of the new presents so the kids could go outside and play with it. This toy happened to be a pitching machine for whiffle balls. He set it up, and turned it on. Inside the house. Without thinking that my 2.5 yo ToddlerSon was sitting directly in front of him. So ToddlerSon has a nice little welt on his cheek from that.

Later in the evening was supposed to be the swim party for the baseball league. I tell you this to show that my kids were a little amped up from the day (not to mention candy from the parade, cake & ice cream and more candy) but the time 6 pm rolled around.

As time for the swim party rolled around, the sky was getting really [b]really[/b] dark. Severe thunderstorms opened up at 5:45, and the party had to be postponed.

The power goes out at 6. Since it didn't flicker and didn't come back on within 10-15 minutes, we knew we'd be dark for awhile. I had planned on all of us eating BBQ at the party, but that fell through. So we ended up with a cheese & cracker dinner by candle light (which the kids thought was fantastic and we should do at least once a week). Followed by the ice cream that was melting in the freezer.

We played cards for a bit (you may remember from a previous post that my kids are becoming quite the little Blackjack players), and then switched over to hit our stockpile of board games: yahtzee, chutes & ladders, boggle, kids scrabble, go fish, etc. And then it got too dark to see.

We retreated into the living room where DH & I flopped on the couch, the kids on the floor, and we all laid around, staring at the ceiling and whining about being bored. DH & I started talking about nothing, and of course the subject got on to certain movies and actors and the like. I must have started to get up a dozen times to "Put that one in, I haven't seen it for ages." before realizing I was an idiot. Not to mention how many times I tried to turn the fan on.

Just to [s]shut everyone up[/s] keep the peace, I started the kids playing 20 questions. Which we ended up doing for over 2.5 hours and had a blast. Dh thought we were being stupid, and wouldn't join in at first. But 20 questions (or in my house, 2400 questions, 326 silly guesses, and 289 cries of "I give up! What is it?") is addictive to those around you. And to my DearestHusband (*Double snort*) saying "This is something that can be found in, around or on the ocean" and then the item in question is a dive watch......well, I want to keep this post PG so I won't say what I thought about that.

When the power did come back on (by then we were all punch-drunk tired and laughing like crazy) the kids actually were going "Oh, noooooo! Can we keep playing? Pleeeeeease??" So we went around, shut everything off, relit the candles and played for another hour. It turned out to be one of the most fun evenings we've had for awhile.

My Cujo-esque Moment - Literally

2008-05-04T08:33:00.005-04:00

We live next door to some really good people. To give you the set up, there is out house, Big Daddy's house and Little Man's house. Big & Little (father & son, obviously) have their yards fenced in together. Little & His wife are very nice folks. Their boy plays with our kids, we chat when we see each other, the usual neighborly crap.

Little has 2 huge Saint Bernards. One is very large, and not very friendly. The other is a bit smaller and okay. They try to keep them under lock and key becuase our 'hood has lots of young kids. In case you forgot, this is what a St Bernard looks like:

Anyway, there has never been a problem. As a side note, I should add that while my DH is scared of dogs, I have never been in my entire life. Now, we have recently acquired our own puppy. He is about 12 weeks old, and while he looks like a yellow lap pup, in reality he is just a mutt. Here is Loki:

Okay, so Thursday evening (my *grumble grumble* X age birthday) my DH and our 2 older sons (age 8 & 6) are in our kitchen playing BlackJack. We think it's important to teach them these vital life skills early. We have our big sliding glass door open with the only the screen in. Loki is tied up out back. I glance over between hands and see a gigantic face looking back in at me. It's the bigger of the 2 St B's. My first fear is Loki. This dog could eat him in one bite. My second is that there is only a flimsy screen between this horse and my children & I.

So while the monster, er beast, I mean dog is nosing around the yard, I slip out the front door to inform neighbors their ogre has gotten off it's leash. Trust me, this is something they'd want to know. They are responsible pet owners. The few times the giants have gotten out, you usually see Little & his wife in hot pursuit. Since I didn't see either of them this time, I knew they didn't know. As I go to Little's house, I see the St B coming around the front of mine. It sees me on what he views (rightly) as his porch, and he is coming fast. I am knocking on the door as fast as I can. (I didn't mean to knock that way, but by then my hand was shaking uncontrollably by then.) And of course, no answer. The St B is now blocking on my exit. He is barking & growling and does not look happy. I decide to try Big's house, since it is his son's dog, afterall.

I manage to calmy walk past the St B, shaking and looking a lot like this:

The St B is on my ass. He wants a chunk of it apparently. I, naturally, have grown accustomed to having my ass intact. My only thought is that I was going to be mauled on my birthday. Like I said, I have never been frightened of an animal in my life. I know how to handle one that is pissed. I walk slow & calm (though inside I'm giving my best horror movie bimbo scream) and don't make any loud noise or sudden movement. Not only did I envision my mauling/demise, I tell you in my mind, I was attending my own funeral.

But I make it onto Big's porch. Barely. Thankfully, Big's wife answers my knock pretty quickly. When I tell her my problem, she gets ready to bolt back inside, leaving me stranded. Turns out she's scared of the St B's too. Again, thankfully, Big comes out to handle the situation. He yells at the barking snarling drooling dog, and funnily enough, the dog almost looks ashamed of itself. Big gets his slippers on, walks off the porch, and smacks this beast on its nose. I'm thinking Big is going to lose a chunk of his arm. And that this is as good a time as any to make my escape. So I, heroically, jump over Big's porch railing and sprint the yard to my own. I don't think I've moved that fast since I was 15. Husband and kids are at the window, watching everything. They want to laugh, but even they admit that my rail jump was pretty cool.

We tried to go back to our card game like nothing was wrong. DH did shut the big glass door, though. And Loki, my own ever vigilant watch dog, slept through the whole thing. I'm not going to tell him what happened, no sense making him feel bad about it now. But I don't think the St B has forgotten me. I think it's only the beginning.

Don't panic..... I'm here now.

2008-04-11T13:36:00.003-04:00

Okay people listen up. Now that I have officially been put in charge, there are going to be some drastic changes around here. This has been a long time coming, but it will be all right now. First and foremost is the issue of my official title. We should have our priorities, after all. I prefer "The Fairest Queen Amanda" but only because "The All-Knowing Trash Heap" is already taken.

Don't worry, I'm keeping everything fairly simple. And there's no point arguing, I'm not listening.

Let's start with the basics: Income tax is gone. No more of that crap. From now on, everybody just keep what they make. If you make $7/hour, that is what you will take home. Daylight Savings Time is a thing of the past as well. But only because no one has ever given me a truly good explanation or reason for it. Next, there will no longer, *ever* be a change in postal rates. I'm tired of buying new stamps every six months.

Now for those important little details:
Businesses must now keep set hours for everyday they are open. Example: My bank is open from 8-4 Monday thru Wednesday, 8:30-5 on Thursday, 8-5 on Friday, and 9:30-3:30 on Saturday. That is just damn ridiculous and nobody can ever remember when they are allowed in. The bank is officially open from 8-5.

Clothing sizes will become standard among brands. Example: I bought 3 pairs of jeans from three manufacturers. They all fit me exactly the same. One pair is an 8, one is a 10, and one is a 12. Again, ridiculously complicated.

On that same note: printer ink cartridges and cell phone chargers are also now going to be industry-wide standard.

Only the driver of the car is allowed to see or speak. Just like seat belts, it will now be law that all passengers who enter a car be blindfolded and gagged. I have three kids, I don't think I need to give an example on this one.

All movies will now be given an intelligence rating as well as a violence/language one. So that really dumb movie can be rated PG-13/D- and you can save the $8 on a movie ticket. I'm talking to you people who made things like Lake Placid 2 and Judge Dread.

Children's names like Ztyphannie and Braetleighn are now forbidden.

Those who have the hardest (yet least recognized) positions in the world, like teachers and nurses, are my Deputy Queens and should be treated accordingly.

And finally:
Thou shalt not yell at a police officer for giving you a ticket that you *know* you deserve
Thou shalt not throw garbage in thy neighbor's yard
Thou shalt not talk about a great party in front of those who are not invited
Thou shalt not talk or use text messaging in a theatre or cinema
Thou shalt not dispense of any body fluids in public places
Thou shalt not honk a horn/blare a radio in a residential neighborhood before 7 am
Thou shalt not take up more than one parking space in a lot

As always, these subjects are subject to change at any time, for any reason, or even just because I have a headache.

I'm leavin' on a jet plane

2008-04-06T21:07:00.003-04:00

Well, not really of course. I'd much rather take an old fashioned, cross-country train ride. Or a luxury cruise. But my friends in the little box on my desk have given me the assignment of picking a city somewhere that I would like to visit, and explain why. I have to admit that I have dug myself a comfortable little rut, and am quite happy in it. But I can tell you where I wouldn't like to visit. ((Warning: This will be filled with stereotypes complete and toall political incorrectness and some blatant rudeness. If this offends you, just walk away))

Let's stop at Australia first. No offense to Australians, I hear y'all are friendly & hospitable folks. I'm sure your country is lovely and gorgeous. However, I watch too much Discovery Channel. I could not swim at your beaches: you have 8 of the 10 deadliest sharks hanging out in those waters. Take a nice hike or even a leisurely stroll? Nope. The world's deadliest snakes and spiders live in your parts. Awwww, Amanda, but Australia has those cute little kangaroos. Wouldn't you love to see them? Again, a large and resounding NO. I've seen videos of those little buggers attacking.

Okay, let's try England. First off, it may be a horrible stereotype, but I have to say no thanks to England because of the food. Again, no offense, but y'all's stuff doesn't even have appetizing names. Blood pudding, tripe, spotted dick, fish that's been battered & fried to death and served with 'chips.' So let's skip England and try France. First of all, the French make me feel fat, even though I am not overweight. Again, the food is going to become an issue because you just don't serve enough. And I don't like wine, so I'd probably be ostracized anyway.

Italy....who can say no to Italy? I really don't have anything bad to say here. Parts of Italy are virtually teeming with wonderful History and beautiful landscapes & architecture. So Italy is a possibility.

China or Japan? I hate crowds. I hate loud noises. I hate fish. I don't think me and Southeast Asia would get along very well.

Canada I could get into. Beer and hockey. All I need is some good prize fights and I would die a happy girl. Canada is tying with Italy right now.

Egypt would be a wonderfully educational trip. I would love to walk the same lands as the Pharaohs did thousands of years ago. But I'm not big on heat. Or sand. I can spend 6 minutes on a beach and pick sand out of my ears and between my toes for a month. So I don't think Egypt would be a good choice.

Mexico?? Eh...well....see....I like to drink fresh water and I enjoy hot showers everyday. I don't like spicy food. Tequila and I parted ways many years ago.

Africa is next on our world tour. (What did you say? I'm jumping around too much for you? I don't care) I would love to see the Serengeti's and plains of Africa. I would love to take a safari tour to see those wonderful animals in their natural habitat. But see, I sort of have this base survival instinct of not wanting to get eaten. But if you go I would love to see pictures.

Ireland/Scotland/Northern Europe area. Once again, beautiful, educational & historic, peaceful, rolling greens and ancient castles. One of my greatest dreams was to take one of those walking tours of Ireland. But I would need to take an interpreter. Oh, they speak English? I'm sure they think so. Funnily enough, I love the sound of an Irish accent. Again, no offense, but I can't understand half of what y'all say.

So, is there any region I haven't offended mortally yet? I'm probably safer if I keep my feet on the soil of 3rd Street, if for no better reason than not getting mobbed by everyone I just insulted.

I can't believe I'm almost crying over this

2008-04-06T20:57:00.003-04:00

When I woke up this morning, my 2 year old Toddler had almost shoulder-length silky strawberry blonde hair. He has a head full of cowlicks, and it always stuck up in every direction. Nothing I could do would make it lie flat. So I didn't and it was much cuter that way. He perpetually had "bed head" from 8 am until midnight.

A few days ago, my DearHusband brought home one of those hair cutting clipper sets with all the attachments. Because he can be vain, I decided to try it out on the kids first, who needed haircuts anyway.

Both OlderSon and MiddleSon like the 'fade' look so that it is cut almost to the skin at the nape of the neck, and gets a little longer and thicker at the crown and in front. And I managed it quite nicely. We got ToddlerSon up in the chair. Now, I have trimmed his bangs and around his ears many times, but I was worried. He was really good and sat still for me and everything. Just to make a matching set, I gave him a 'fade' cut as well. I was tearing up as those pretty soft locks fell to the floor.

He looks better....much more grown up and like a Little Boy instead of a Toddler. But I've been through this before, and I know it will never be the same. Once it has been cut drastically like that, it grows in darker and thicker, and never lays quite the same. I can't believe a haircut has me all shaky and emotional.

Is she really gonna tell a story about a vaccum??

2008-04-03T09:06:00.003-04:00

Yes. Yes I am.

Two weeks ago what I thought was a funny incident was really an episode of karma turning around to bite me in the butt.

My kids and I were cleaning the house. We were almost done and were just vacuuming the floor. Knock on the door. To make a long story short, it was a vacuum cleaner salesman. He could see and hear my vacuum ( a beloved shop vac) running in the next room, and he still tried to sell me another. I managed to get him to go away without the use of a can of mace or a pitchfork. I thought it was funny, even if the guy was clueless and rude.

Cue a week later and my shop vac dies. Ah, karma.

90% of my house is carpeted. I tried, vainly, to keep the mess to a minimum while I waiting to go get a new vacuum. My dark blue carpet in one room looked horrible with every speck showing up. Not to mention the 3 growing boys in my house not helping matters.

So I go last night to purchase a new shop vac. I'm in the vast warehouse known as Lowe's. My mother accompanied me, because trips like this, as boring as they may seem, always turn into an adventure when she is along.

Lowe's does not have my 10 gallon shop vac in size. However, I didn't realize my own shop vac was a 5 gal. Both she & I own the same kind, and we thought they were 10 gallons. So I decided to go with was the next size up: 14 gallons. First off, in that store, with its huge ceilings and 2 mile long aisles, nothing looks "too big." The box did seem oddly large & heavy.

I get home and make dinner. Now, it had been almost a week since I had last been able to vacuum and I was jonesing for a fix. The kids, who weirdly like to run the vacuum, begged to go first. Huh-uh, sweetie. This was my new toy and I was going to take the first test run.

OldestSon and I take the shop vac out of the box. This thing is a monstrosity. It is so tall that it comes up past my waist, and I am not a short person. The tank is so large that both my younger children could fit inside. My arm could easily fit into the hose.

I tentatively turn it on. The casing is a no-nonsense gray color, like this thing knew it was built to be productive and dammit, that's what it was going to do. So basically I approached it like a sleeping tiger. And it purred. Not really, but the engine/motor/whatever just sort of gently starting humming. Okay, so far so good. I put the hose to my carpet. And the carpet actually gets pulled off the floor from the force. I swear this thing has a jet engine. It is so powerful it could probably suck the hair off my head if I cared to try it. (And don't laugh. Someone must've tried it before - how do you think those old Flow-Bee things got invented?!?)

Anything that works this good can't be cheap to run. I figure I will get a $500 electric bill for the 15 minutes I ran it. But there are some pros in this mess. If the kids are acting up and romping in their room, I can probably just put the hose to the ceiling and the force of the vacuum will hold them to the floor. If my DearHusband is working int he basement and I need his attention: Schlowock! And he will be stuck with his head to the beams yelling "Turn it off for the love of Gawd!"

Other pros: No more worrying about dealing with those pesky wasp nests that pop up in the garage eaves: just shop vac it. No more stretching to get the curtains down to wash: just shop vac it. No more worrying about Toddler trying to run out the front door: just shop vac him.

I'm gonna go sweep something......

A Baseball Story.....sort of

2008-04-01T19:33:00.002-04:00

To tell you this story, I have to begin with some visual aids. No pics, though, because I keep forgetting to take my camera along to the park.

Okay, in my teeny tiny town, we have a very nice "park" type of area. I hesitate to call it a park because it doesn't really have a name, and it's sort of laid out funny.

It sits on a nice, long rolling hill. Here goes my attempt at the visual:

_________ Up here is parking area

_______This level is a nice shelter house/picnic area and courts for
tennis & basketball

__________ This level is open and grassy. There is a nice size playground and
a few benches.

___________This level is the Little League field, bleachers
concession stand and bathrooms

After the field, the hill flattens out and the public pool sits below that. Though technically that is a separate area and cannot be reached from the park. Alleys run uphill along both sides of the park. It is only fenced in with an ancient split-rail fence. There are gates to enter at the top near the parking lot and at the bottom near the field.

I, and many many others, have practically grown up in this place. Besides those of us that were dragged here to watch older brothers play baseball, there are also a lot of parties and activities planned for the space. The town Easter egg hunt, various church picnics, you get the idea.

Each level is mostly flat, and the hills that go down to the next are between 40-60 feet long. So if you are standing at the parking area yelling, no on in the play ground area can here you. Now, to watch my sons play ball, my family and I sit on the benches near the playground. Up there, we can sit & talk & complain about the coaches, spit out sunflower seed shells into the grass and other stuff.

Baseball season has started again. Most of the year, I am usually so proud of my little town and the people in it. And then baseball season starts and that all goes out the window. I see people doing the most unbelievable things. A mother changing a diaper on the bleachers. She laid down a blanket and changed a poopy diaper. Now, why couldn't she have moved away from the other people and laid that blanket on the grass? I have changed my child like that too many times to count, as have many others.

People making out with their Significant Others, people yelling & cursing at each other. The worst, by far, are those who let their dogs run, unleashed, around the park areas. And of course, about 95% of these people feel their dog can use this area as a large & convenient public toilet without having to pick up afterwards. Now, while there is a long walkway that runs from the parking level that goes all the way to the field, that is mostly only used by the adults. The older kids run barreling down the hill at top speed. Many of the younger kids like to roll down the hill. One older 'gentleman' (using the term loosely) does not have any relation to him playing ball. But he likes to walk his (leashed) dog in the park and stop to watch the kids play. I wouldn't have a problem with that. However, before he leaves, he walks his mutt up to the playground level to go to the bathroom! He lets the dog do its business, and then he heads back down the walkway, toward the field and out the lower gate. So it's not like it was on his way or anything.

I keep telling myself to just make it through one more season, just one more. But of course, this year both of my older sons are in the Minor League. Next year, OldestSon moves up to the Majors, MiddleSon stays in the minors. The year after that, Both of them will be in the Majors and I will have to start all over again with Toddler in tee ball.

The only thing I fear

2008-03-31T16:16:00.002-04:00

........is fear itself. Well, that might not be entirely accurate. But it's close. I am not scared of the dark, or spiders & snakes & creepy crawlies. I am not afraid of speaking in public or heights. I am not afraid of ghosts or aliens or axe murderers. Scary movies, roller coasters and such don't faze me a bit. (Once again, this is for my friends who live in my computer!) My one true fear is completely idiotic and irrational.

I am absolutely terrified of embarrassing myself. Not that I mind 'making a scene' it's more like 'making a spectacle.' The worst thing I can imagine is humiliating myself in front of people, whether they be friends or strangers. I just know that I am going to burp or fart or throw up on my shoes or something. It doesn't even have to be someone with power or authority or someone who intimidates me. It can be my neighbor or the clerk at the dollar store. The idea that I am going to do something stupid or embarrassing or worse haunts me.

After having a conversation with someone where things didn't go quite right (for whatever reason - possibly real, possible in my own overactive imagination), I will replay that for days. Analyzing everything I did or said and physically get the shakes thinking about it. I know it is completely irrational, and even a little egotistical. I mean, come on Amanda. Not everyone cares so much about you that they are going to remember you said/did that. But the fear plagues me anyway.

The fear of embarrassing myself is constant, but it only effects my life in small ways. I can not use a public toilet for 'longer' visits. What if I stink it up or make nasty noises or something and someone walks in and it smells really bad and they know it was me?

I cannot leave the house if I am feeling even slightly upset to my stomach. What if I need to find a restroom suddenly and can't? What if I can find one...and that just leads me back to me first point of probably not being able to use it anyway. What if I throw up on my shoes?

I cannot eat a large meal, especially at a restaurant, and then go on with my day. What if I get gas? What if my breath is raunchy? What if I suddenly get food poisoning and throw up on my shoes? (Can you see that throwing-up-on-my-shoes thing is the biggest?) Basically I won't go anywhere on a full stomach. If I have something to do at 6 pm that requires me to be out of the house for a few hours, I will not eat after about 10 am. Just in case.

I have a lot of trouble walking alone across open spaces in front of lots of people. What if I trip and fall? Who cares if I fall, what if I just stumble? What if my pants are sliding down and my butt is showing and I don't notice? What if I just look plain stupid? Will they laugh? You wonder why I wasn't Homecoming Queen? I would have had to take that walk across the football field with thousands of people watching me. (Who cares that I wasn't nominated to be HQ, because even if I had I couldn't have done it)

It's not that I can't eat in a restaurant or use a bathroom or walk. I just don't want to embarrass myself. And that's what it all comes down to. It doesn't matter. I just know I will do something humiliating and people will remember and talk about it and I won't be able to forget it and it will stay with me forever and keep me up at nights and then I get even more embarrassed. I told you it was irrational.

Lady in waiting...

2008-03-31T15:29:00.002-04:00

....and waiting and waiting and waiting.

I had a few errands to run this afternoon. About 4 stops that should have taken 5 minutes each. Uh-huh. I decided to take MiddleSon along with me. I try to take just 1 kid with me on trips like this. A little quality time mixed in with some real life experience. Afterall, they'll have to go to the bank and the post office and the dry cleaners and the gas station on their own one day.

So the drive-thru bank window. Only two lanes, quite a few cars ahead of me. We wait ten minutes. I had to turn off the engine after two, or risk running out of gas (I knew I should've gone to the station first). I would've backed out, but there was already 2 cars behind me. Finally, there is one car left ahead of me. And they apparently have about 8 transactions to complete. Totally ignoring the big red sign that said "For more than three transactions, transactions with rolled coin, or business deposits, please use the inside lobby" This guy had all of this. Trust me, the weather was mild, my window was rolled down, and I could hear him complaining to the teller through the speaker that he had places to go already, what was the hold up?! When I finally got to the window my own business took about 2 minutes.

Next is the post office. I had 10 packages to drop off. These were all ready, and had the postage printed on them. All I had to do was set them on the counter and go. However, I like to make sure the clerks actually get them, so I always wait to hand them over. There is a long line. I have never been more proud of MiddleSon as we stood patiently. The first man in line was mailing in his taxes. He wanted to send them Priority, No Express Mail. Wait, he should probably insure that. Hang on, how much does registered mail cost? Do other people pay for registered mail? What sort of things do people mail that need to be insured and have a signature confirmation?

The next gentlemen in line had a stack of 4 or 5 smaller envelopes. While waiting on Mr. Tax Guy, he kept getting out of line to check out the postal mailing supplies. He'd pick something out. Put it back. Pick something different out. Put it back and grab the first thing again. Okay, I get that he couldn't make up his mind. However, when it was his turn at the counter, he had none of his envelopes addressed, and was still folding things to put in the envelopes. Dude, you just waited in line for ten minutes, you couldn't have taken care of that? He bought his stamps and mailing supplies and decided to stand right there by the clerk to fill out everything. I distinctly heard the sweet grandfatherly-looking gentleman behind me mutter "Come on, asshole" After a minute, the clerk saw this and asked him to step aside. He moved over a quarter of an inch. The next man was right in front of me. Thankfully, he was only buying a few stamps. Uh...not those ones. Do you have anything different? Ugh, is that all? Okay I'll take those first ones you showed me. I need 5. No, 6. (Clerk rips stamps out of a standard book) Actually, I better just buy a book. (Cashier hands over the book she had been tearing his stamps out of) Can I get a whole one? Thankfully, the cashier gives him the icy-glare-of-death and the man buys his not-quite-whole book of stamps. My turn! Clerks know me very well. They know that my postage is bought online and my packages are always ready to go. All they have to do is toss them in the outgoing bins. She looks, oddly, relieved to see me.

Okay, luckily the gas station is self-serve, I'm thinking at this point. No waiting on cashiers or other customers. There are 4 cars waiting. The other pump is out of order. Despite the line (or maybe because of it) things move quickly. Until the car ahead of me (of course. What else would you be thinking by now?) He has six 5-gallon containers in the bed of his truck to fill up. I decided that if I try really really hard, I can convince my car to run on fumes for a few more miles. The power of suggestion is a strong one indeed. I leave the gas station with MiddleSon asking nervously from the back seat, "Will we run out of gas again mom? Will dad have to come get us? Will we have to walk?!?!" He has been extraordinarily patient up to this point.

Normally, when Toddler-free, I like to take my time in the grocery store. Check out the sales and browse for a good deal. But because I am the mother of 3 children, I have learned to speed shop. I know where everything in the small store is and can buy a weeks' worth of groceries in 15 minutes. Luckily, I have no complaints about the store today. Until (you knew this was coming) I got into the parking lot. Very Nice Lady (VNL) was unloading her cart into her car at the same time I was. VNL was parked next to me. VNL remarked that the weather sure was unpredictable lately, but gee it was nice today. She hoped it would hold out. But no, it looked like it was going to rain. By now, my cart is unloaded, MiddleSon has returned it to the corral, and I have shut the trunk. I am fidgeting with the keys in my hand. I have the drivers door open and one leg in the car. VNL remarks how quiet and and well behaved MS is. I thank her, and say I better get home to fix some lunch. VNL says oh yes, she knows how growing boys are, eating all the time! Eat you out of house and home! She really is very nice, but I have already been gone an hour and have more to do. So I take my, "Oops my cell phone is ringing" escape route and duck into the car.

Back to the gas station......no cars! Yippee! I fill up my tank, which leaves me about $4.22 left in my checking account.

Drycleaners for some dress clothes I will be selling. I have my ticket. I have my money. But I have no patience left. And of course, the drycleaners is closed for lunch. I absolutely have to get these clothes today so that I can get them sold. I make a plan. Not the smartest or best thought out, but it is a plan nonetheless. I decide to try and drop Son and groceries off at home and then swing back to the cleaners. All the while trying to avoid letting Toddler see that mommy's car is in the driveway. When I get home, Toddler finally notices that I have been gone. Without him! (I'd snuck out so he wouldn't see me go, I am a bad mom). Oh the horror! The terrible horrible unadulterated PG13 horror! Toddler throws a fit. I give up. The drycleaning can wait until another day.

So I am home. I am tired. And I realize I forgot to buy milk. And mail the bills out. And take my mother's tupperware back. There's always tomorrow.....

Not to brag....

2008-03-24T15:22:00.002-04:00

...but I sure do like me. I am always busy, yet I never seem to get everything I want done. I am always tired, but then I feel guilty for going to bed early or sleeping in. I spend hours in the kitchen, but dinner sometimes feels half-assed and there's always one more dish in the sink. I can speed-fold the laundry, but one more load is always waiting in the dryer. I spend hours working with the boys on their school subjects, and they're still behind their grade level.

That said.....I do like me. I like my life. I like my husband and kids. I like my house. I like my work-at-home job. So for my ehellion friends behind my computer screen, here we go......

I like me because I know:
I am not the tallest, but I am not the shortest.
I am not the smartest, but I am not the dumbest.
I am not the skinniest, but I am healthy.
I am not a supermodel, but I am not ugly.
I am not a vigilant house cleaner, but I don't live like a slob.
I am not a comedian, but people always laugh at my jokes.
I am not the most athletic, but I can teach my kids to play ball.
I am not the busiest, but I am not lazy.
I am not a gourmet cook, but I am creative in the kitchen.
I am not super frugal, but I am great at finding deals.
I am not the most gracious person to walk the earth, but I am not a total bitch.
I am not drowning in money, but I am not drowning in debt, either.
I am not Super Mom, but no one else is either.
I am not the greatest friend one could hope for, but I am a good listener.
I am not the perfect sister/daughter, but I am there when they need me.

I like me because I can laugh at myself. I can make the darkest situation slightly better. I am the one you hear laughing *not disrepectfully* at the funeral. And making others laugh as well. I drive an old beater and make jokes that I wish it was stolen so I could get the insurance money. I have rolled dimes to buy gas while I have money for the kids birthday presents in the bank. I have bought gifts and cards for my family and friends when there was absolutely no reason or special occasion except that I like to make them smile. I cook dinners for people home from the hospital or with new babies and then serve frozen pizza at home. I have worn the same pair of boots for 5 winters while my kids get new cleats for every baseball season. And I actually like all that about myself. It's what makes me the Best & Worst. And it's what makes me -me-

Hey! Bunnies don't lay eggs!

2008-03-24T08:08:00.002-04:00

This is a story about my Easter woes. But to tell you about Sunday, I have to tell you about Saturday.

I am fairly active in my church. Even though I am not in a position to donate hugely in a monetary way, I volunteer a lot of time and effort. To make sure there would be a nice variety of food for the Easter lunch after services, the ladies who wanted to participate drew foods from a hat rather than having a typical pot luck sign up. Two ladies and myself decided to work together in my kitchen Saturday morning. I drew baked beans, another drew potato salad and the third drew 'hot dessert.' Fine, good, nice easy stuff. Each of us also volunteered to hard boil 3 dozen eggs each. There is a movie night for the kids on Saturday night, and we were going to let the older ones color the eggs (the younger ones were painting wooden eggs....we were smart about that!). Those eggs would then be used as part of the egg hunt Sunday afternoon.

So that's how my Saturday went. I was busy, but I was happy. I've been in a bit of a slump lately, and working constantly took my mind off of things. Saturday night it was my Sister-in-Laws turn to shuffle the boys to movie night. Afterwards, we did our own egg coloring and by the time we sent the boys off to bed, I was dead on my feet. But I managed to put the kids baskets together and tidy the house up. It is well past 1 am by the time I get to bed.

Easter Sunday! Yeah, hoorah! Wait...I forgot I was an adult and there was no basket with 2 lbs of sugar waiting for me. Ah well, I can steal some from the kids. We do our own little mini egg hunt and the kids dig into their mounds of sugary delight. I notice my toddler is playing with a (now cracked) egg and sort of picking at his basket. He is glassy eyed and has a fever. Joy. Because of a minor heart condition, he gets really high fevers with no notice and no other symptoms. They spike quickly, like within 10 minutes, and get up to 101 or 102 degrees. Scary, but I have learned to handle it pretty well. My Darling Husband could handle it, but he gets nervous. I decide to stay home. I call another mom, who agrees to pick up the kids and my dishes for church.

After 2 hours or so, Toddler is feeling better. The fever has come down, but he is still a bit lazy and listless. I decide to try and hit the end of church services and be on hand to help during lunch and the egg hunt. I arrive at the church at the tale end of the sermon and manage to sneak into a back pew. Then I head down to the kitchen to help if I can. Now, the deal was that some of us drew food, while others drew services. I know for a fact that 3 members drew kitchen help. Basically setting out silverware, serving the food, filling drinks. There were supposed to be at least 12 people in the kitchen. There are 4. So I help and skip lunch. When it's time to take the kiddos out for the egg hunt, I told the youth director I was going out front for a cigarette (away from the kids) and she could find me if I was needed. Two puffs into the cig, I was needed. There weren't enough people to help out the littlest kids (in the 1-3 age range). Wait, I said, I don't have a kid in the 1-3 age range here. Toddler is at home. Where are all the 1-3 age range parents. They are finishing lunch. Harumph (I always wanted to type that). Must be nice. Some of us never even started lunch. But I help. The hunt only takes 15 minutes or so, but 10 minutes in my cell rings. Toddler is feeling yucky again. Can I come home? Surely dear, surely. By now I am ready to escape.

That afternoon, Toddler is feeling better and I take him and his older 2 brothers to visit family. Not only do my parents make up baskets for them, but so do my aunt & uncle and my cousin's family. By the time we leave, we have enough candy to supply an army. The good thing is that now they have so much they really won't notice if DH and I snitch a piece. Or four. or eight. However, I don't know what we will do if the kids grow up and like Snickers.

Finally something wonderful happens. My brother & SIL call and would like to have my older 2 come spend the night. Trust me when I say that I could see the shining golden light and could hear the angels singing. At least I would have them out of my hair for a night.

Two hours after they are gone I realize how sorely mistaken I was. Toddler is so very attached to his older brothers. So that when they are gone, he is like a lost child. Think "Lord of the Flies" type lost child. He has no direction, no anchor. I see him slowly de-evolving from lack of companionship. Do DH and I qualify as companionship? Of course not. We're parents, and that's an entirely different species altogether.

My Easter evening is no more enjoyable than my Easter day. It is well after 7 before I realize that the only thing I've eaten all day is a mini Reese cup and a handful of jelly beans. Am I cooking for just us? Hell no. Cheese sandwiches and corn chips all around! Toddler is not happy with me. And quite frankly, neither is DH. I appease the 2 angry men in my life by allowing them full access to the other kids Easter bounty. They are sated.

The moral of this story is that there is no moral of this story. Children of the world....please remember that wonderful holidays for you are often like working a 22 hour day for your mother. At least I have a couple of months before the next one.....

Check me out. I am so badass..

2008-03-21T09:59:00.002-04:00

67%

I could never get the hang of Thursdays.....

2008-03-21T08:31:00.004-04:00

I woke up yesterday morning, realized it was Thursday, and then realized Sunday was Easter. And then I panicked. Three kids + no Easter baskets = mutiny. So I needed to go shopping, but that would have to wait until Dear Husband returned home from work.

I managed to get through the day. And then things got worse. They always do. But this time it was my fault since I needed to head to the dreaded and revered WalMart. Oh the great and powerful WM.

As I was walking out the door, DH decided he needed new jeans, and would I pick him up a couple of pair?? Now, the last time I picked his pants out for him, it was disaster. Even though I bought the exact size, the exact cut and the exact color he wanted, he didn't like them. They were too tight. They were too snug on his legs. I must've bought the wrong ones. Far be it for me to tell him he'd just gained a little weight.

WalMart was mobbed, as usual. But I don't think it had anything to do with the approaching holiday. People just go crazy over that big yellow smiley face announcing that this WAS $19.99 AND NOW IT'S ONLY $19.49!!!!!!

Then I head to the food section where I buy enough eggs to feed a small contingent of soldiers. I look around, but there is no egg dye nearby. Isn't WM like the king of upselling? Wouldn't putting the PAS coloring next to the eggs be a smart idea? Apparently not. Thankfully, a lady next to me was also stocking up on enough eggs to ride out the Apocalypse. She had egg dye in her cart. Oh thank you, lady who was better prepared than me for directing me to the egg dye. Which was on the completely other side of the store.

Next up was the promotional Easter candy aisle, also located in the food section. It was so crammed with carts and people that I made a game plan before I navigated through it. I have three kids. But damn near everything is packaged in twos, fours or eights. Or sixteens. Now, I'm a smart girl, but do you know what I'm going to have to go through on Saturday night assembling three baskets out of that mess? Anyway, back to my game plan. I stuck close to the shelf, and I walked, without stopping, and started grabbing three of everything I wanted. I won the Blue Ribbon for Easter shopping. I navigated that whole aisle in about 4 minutes. Go me. But I got to the end, and no egg dye here either.

So I have to traipse across the store to the aisle near the greeting cards and school supplies. Which of course, is where I would naturally think to look for egg dye. I was so flabbergasted at what I saw that I am still not over it. An entire aisle of Easter toys and doo-dads. Since when did Easter become a holiday akin to filling up a Christmas stocking?? Easter toys, Easter games, Easter yo-yos, Easter silly putty, Easter stickers, Easter Pez, Easter temporary tattoos, Easter checkers, Easter plastic jewelry, Easter....wait.... Monopoly? What?!?! Yes, there was a mini Easter Monopoly game. Now, I know in our health-conscious world we are trying to keep our kids from becoming obese. But this....this was just ridiculous. I got my egg dye and got the flock out of there.

I was one of the lucky ones. I only had to wait in line 2-3 years. I mean minutes. I was behind someone who had only a moderate cart full, she was youngish, and like me, sans-kids. That is usually a good sign. But no. She had a few coupons (I can live with that), Was that price right? (Come on lady, it rung up .21 cents extra) She was paying with a check (you couldn't have started filling that out while your stuff was being scanned?) and then wanted to chat with the cashier about how it was soooo busy and she wondered why she could never seem to get out of this store quickly. (I'll give you three guesses, but you're only going to need one)

I am getting in my car. Dear Husband calls. Was I planning on making dinner for the kids? Um....I am 20 miles away from home. That is physically impossible at the moment. And what did he really expect me to say, no, I am going to turn the kids out into the wild and let them fend for themselves. Well, the boys had some friends over, so could I maybe pick up dinner? I ask him if he could just order pizza. The kids don't want pizza, they want McDonalds. Now he knows I hate those golden arches. I hate the food, I hate the smell, I hate the whole corporation. But I am tired, and I, stupidly, agree. Okay, well.... He proceeds to give me the longest most complicated order I have ever heard. Are you writing this down? No, because I am currently doing 65 MPH on the highway, talking on my cell phone to you, and trying to keep the milk from falling on the bag with the eggs. Oh yeah, he says, I also want 2 Big Yucky Sandwiches with no lettuce, extra pickles and tomatoes. And large fries. And a shake. He is so lucky I love him.

Surprisingly, McCrap gets my order right and I manage to leave with money still in my checking account. Sort of. However, what I didn't take into account was that 6 boys between the ages of 5 and 10 don't ever really know what they want when you take their order. Everybody wanted what the other person had. I left the food in a pile on the table and left them to fight it out.

And just to really reinforce the idea that I can't get the hang of Thursdays....I let the boys talk me into having these friends over for a sleepover. Please save me.

I turn my back for one minute.....

2008-03-20T15:27:00.003-04:00

Let me preface this by saying my toddler (2 years old) is fat. No horrible Maury Povich-worthy fat. But he's really really chubby. He is also a nudist. He hates clothes. I can get him to keep his training pants on, but that's about it.

Now, I was cooking dinner yesterday. The toddler was 'helping' mommy. And by 'helping' I mean he was dragging all the pots and pans out and banging on them loudly with a wooden spoon. He would also occasionally try to scale the pantry shelves. What would I do without that kind of help? My older 2 boys decided to play outside before dinner. Fine. Great, actually.

Toddler disappears and becomes very quiet. Any mother of a small child instinctively knows this is not good. The naive ones might think 'Oh, the little dear has gone off to amuse himself.' But us veterans are thinking 'Great, he's probably dismantling the computer or trying to put the turtle in the VCR.'

I happen into the study. Where, thankfully, I find him. He has found a pair of my Middle Son's pants. (which, oh lord, almost fit him even though Middle Son is 4 years older) He has also found OlderSon's shoes, a pair of gloves and a toboggan. He was trying to make a break for the (*locked*) front door. (Hey, I told you I was a veteran, what did you think?)

Trust me people. He may look cute, but that is all just a way to lull you into his trap.

I will admit I'm related to you just long enough to tell this story

2008-02-25T11:13:00.002-05:00

A conversation about family heirlooms has brought back some old memories.

When I was 6, my grandmother died, though my grandfather was still alive and kicking. My grandparents were depression-era, so they didn't really have a lot of 'stuff.' Though what they did have was well-cared for and very nice.

My family at the time was (and still is) very close. But mainly the ones who looked after and spend time with my GPs were my father, his sister, and her family. My father had one other sister who had 4 daughters, and each of those daughters had spawn. I mean kids.

I was only 6 at the time, but there is something I remember clearly. My cousins (much older than I and most were already married with families) and a few aunts and uncles were going through GPs very small house and marking items with their initials on masking tape. Hey people! See that old man over there? This is his house and his stuff. And last time I checked, he was still breathing! You wanna lay off the greed for 5 minutes!?! And also the last time I checked, you came to visit this man maybe once a year. Didn't you just get mad at him for not knowing your kids' names? That's because he's hardly ever seen you or your spawn (kids, I meant kids).

Fast forward 5 years to when grandfather dies. Because of his religion, there is no will. Same greedy relatives come pouring out of the highly polished woodwork. And Cousin M? Nice try on getting the house, but Pap had already signed over the deed to his other daughter. The one who remembered him. (Good thinking Pap, I always knew you were a shrewd old guy)

In the end, the relatives that cared for my GPs ended up with very few of his possessions. But we got what we cared about. See while we were busy, you know, actually mourning the death of the family patriarch, the greedy relatives were busy carrying the lamps, dishes and end tables out the back door.

The Battle of The Brands

2008-02-25T10:46:00.002-05:00

Well, battle of the corporations really, but I thought that title sounded too spiffy to pass up. I'm going to relate a story involving 2 huge and well-known corporations. If you can deduce the particulars, good for you.

I was the recipient of a High-Priced, High-End Electronic Unit (HPHEEU...but we'll shorten that to EU for the stupid people, you know who you are......maybe you don't know who you are) as a lovely Christmas gift. This EU has many functions, but is primarily known and used for only one. Which was the intent with which it was purchased for me. (okay, end of hokey legalese language, I swear)

This EU was manufactured by Huge Conglomerate #1 (HC1) and sold by Huge Conglomerate #2 (HC2).

The EU was used sporadically from Christmas time until just a short week ago. So basically, about 2 months. One day, a VCR tape was inserted into EU and jammed. Literally jammed. Not going in, not coming back out. EU shut down and refused to power back up. Now, me being a human begin who has walked this earth for almost 3 decades, I decided to troubleshoot. Nada. Because of the nature of this EU, I was not about to try and extricate the tape and possibly damage the EU or make it unusable for its main purpose. So I decided to contact the customer service number for HC1.

That was my first mistake.

Did I insert the tape normally or was it forced? Sorry ma'am, but I've been using a VCR for pert near 20 years. It was inserted normally. It won't power on...okay, did you check to make sure all the cords and wires were connected properly? Why didn't I think of that?!? Of course I checked, stupid.

Basically, I started out being as polite as I possibly could, but it all went down hill from there.

The receipt was located by the givers of this EU. We discover it was purchased 5 days before HC1's 90 warranty policy. So basically, sorry, we can't help you unless you'd like to pay $XXX and ship the EU back to us. Where we will examine it and get it back to you within 8-12 weeks. Did it matter that the EU was not even used for 30 days after it was purchased? Certainly not. And of course, the service fee could only be paid by money order or cashiers check, and I would be responsible for shipping costs. And insurance if I wanted to be sure the EU actually made it there and back in one piece.

Frustration rising. I decide to place hope over experience and try to contact the place where EU was purchased, HC2. HC2 is not known for its friendliness or excellent customer service. I seriously doubted they would take back the defective machine since it was past the 90 mark for them as well.

Here's the pleasantly surprising happy ending. HC2 is willing to take back the EU provided I have the original receipt (check) the original box and everything that came with EU. (Hehehe...I am such a packrat...I had it all!)

We box up the EU and take it to HC2. When we arrive at customer service and present our issue, the CS workers have already been informed of it. Turns out, the man I talked to on the phone called ahead to let them know I was coming, and to accept the EU. What?!?!? You mean I didn't have to try and explain my problem to 6 different people 10 different times? Excellent!

But wait, there's more......

When we go back into the electronics department, Man from the Phone (MP) is there to help me pick out a replacement EU that matched the features of the one I had. They were sold out of the original EU, and I wouldn't have wanted the same type anyway. MP even carried the new EU back to the customer service desk to help with the exchange. I was in shock I tell you. Pure shock. I walked out of HC2 expecting the Customer Service Gestapo to pull me up and explain that it was all only a test or something.

The best part in all of this? MP tells me that to get credit, HC2 will ship it back to HC1 for service. Which HC1 will do for free. And then EU will be sold as a refurbished unit for about half the original selling price. HC1 really screwed themselves by not just fixing my EU in the first place! Ah...wonderful irony.

Okay, I lied again, as I seem to so often do around here.
EU was a DVD recorder. HC1 was Magnavox and HC2 was Walmart. I think Walmart deserves a little credit here.

Dear Person Who May Never Enter My Home Again

2008-02-19T13:14:00.002-05:00

Dear Person (formally known fondly as 'Friend')

It was unexpected to see you the other evening. I would have said it was an unexpected pleasure, but unfortunately I cannot tell a lie. Well I can, but I don't want to.

It has been many months since you had graced our home with your presence. Initially seeing you brought us joy. And then you had to go and open your mouth. The joy evaporated soon after.

I can only say that you seemed to have changed so drastically since your last visit that I can only hope one of two things has happened to you. Either A) You contracted some rare condition that caused you to develop a major personality disorder, or B) Your evil twin/clone was sent in your place. That said, we still tried very hard to spend a tolerable evening with you.

It so happened that when you arrived dinner was almost completely prepped. Luckily it was that much-beloved crowd pleaser: pizza. Ah, pizza, so versatile! A yummy favorite that can accomodate innumerous dietary restrictions and varied accounts of taste. I was glad that I had chosen to make 2 of those 8 inch medium sized cheesy wonders.

Your single glance at the 'adult' pizza told me that you would not be partaking of it. (I guessed as much by your comments of "Ewwww, onions make me gag!" and "Yuck....banana peppers. Nasty!" These comments were of course, accompanied by unneccesary facial contortions, hand gestures, and the timeless 'fake-vomit' gesture.) This was all actually a good thing, since my husband generally likes to eat a whole one of these himself.

So you had to resort yourself to grazing over to the 'kids' pizza. Classic pepperoni and cheese at its finest. What you are not aware of is this: the children and I cannot consume a whole of these pizza pies in one evening. I know this, and I still make too much on purpose. You see, reheated pizza is one of the best lunches a busy mom can have. But guests are guests, and I consigned myself to not having seconds on the following day. What I didn't consign myself to was not even being able to eat firsts! You really should make a note to yourself that a guest should not help themselves to six slices of an eight-slice pizza.

But all that aside, Person, for now at least. We have two major areas of congregation in our home. The study is mostly off limits to guests, as that is where school studies and work are dealt with. The other is the living room. Cluttered, comfy and inviting.

Person, I know you realize we have an extensive collection of videos and DVDs available to watch. This does not mean I am a rental agency. So no, I wouldn't let you take just those 7 DVDs with you to watch at your other friend's house. This also does not mean that you can take the disc I was watching out of the player and pick your own from the shelf. Especially not when the movie of your choosing happens to be a 2 and a half hour badly dubbed French werewolf movie that I have already viewed 42 times.

The thing about my house is, Person, that I keep a variety of pillows and blankets folded (quite out of the way) in the corner of the living room. These come in handy when you want to wrap up on the couch, or when the children have friends over for sleepovers. I am, also, very particular about these items. You see, I would not let you crawl into my personal marriage bed to get comfortable. So I don't know why you thought it would be okay to dig through the pile of (neatly folded) blankets to find "the softest one." Do you wonder why you couldn't find it? Because, I had the 'softest one.' Strange how I like things like that in the comfort of my own dwelling.

Now despite all of the above mentioned things there is one finality that I cannot overlook. See, I put up with a lot from you that evening. Not the least of which was that you dropped by unannounced at 6 pm on a Monday evening after a long 3-day weekend. The problem was that apparently you didn't notice something I figured was quite obvious. After 9 pm, when the children were bathed and sent to bed, did you not wonder why my husband and I had quit contributing to the conversation and were trying (without too much subtlety) to hide our yawns? I know you lead a mostly responsibility-free existence, but a lot of us do not. Yes I am aware that I work from home, and that the boys are homeschooled. That does not mean we do not rise early. When i finally ushered you out of the hosue at 11 pm did you not notice the coldness of my goodbye? Or the fact that I hastily shut the door behind you? Or the sound of the deadbolt being quickly thrown into place? Or maybe the fact that I turned the porch light off before you had even reached our front steps?

Maybe not. But I do hope notice that I will not be answering your knock in the future.

Yours Truly (Fed Up),
Occupants of the Home You Will Never Enter Again

eBay Sellers Speak Out Against Feedback Policy Changes

2008-01-29T17:02:00.000-05:00

This thread pretty much says it all.

Hope you don't plan on buying much from eBay after May. There may not be many of us around by then.

But on the bright side: Check out my eBay store as I am clearancing out EVERYTHING and closing as soon as the inventory has sold out.

This is the pertinent information on the new changes, directly from the eBay site:
http://pages.ebay.com/services/forum/new.html

eBay Shoots Itself in the Foot - Signs Its Own Death Warrant

2008-01-29T16:47:00.000-05:00

From the latest changes in the [sarcasm]wonderful [/end sarcasm] world of eBay, to be taking effect soon:

This comes directly from an eBay email

Seller Update: Fees, Rewards & StandardseBay buyers want value and selection from sellers they can trust--and good sellers deserve rewards for delivering great customer service. That's why we're making a number of important changes that may affect you:
Reduced Listing Fees You asked, we listened. We're reducing Insertion Fees and adjusting Final Value Fees to lower your up-front cost to sell on eBay. You wanted free Gallery, now you've got it--plus more feature discounts.
Lower Insertion Fees
Making Gallery free
Lower fees for Gallery Plus, Picture Pack, and Feature Plus
Rewards for great sellersThere will be discounts and incentives for those who satisfy customers best. Who decides who gets rewarded? Customers do, by giving sellers high Detailed Seller Ratings (DSRs).
More search exposure through Best Match
Fee discounts for PowerSellers
Increased protection for PowerSellers
Feedback ChangesSignificant changes coming soon will increase buyer confidence and showcase good sellers.
Buyers will only be able to receive positive Feedback.
Positive repeat customer Feedback will count and Feedback more than 12 months old won't.
Negative and neutral Feedback left by the buyer will be removed for transactions in which a buyer doesn't respond to the Unpaid Item (UPI) or if the member is suspended.

Check out that part that's bolded in bright red. Nice, huh? Way to encourage those sellers!
The new changes are going to kill the site. The rate changes aren't what's upsetting people, its the new no bad-feedback-for-buyers thing. LOOK AT THE EBAY MESSAGE BOARDS AND READ THE 800 THREADS GOING ABOUT HOW WRONG THIS IS!!!!! Ebay has always catered to buyers, and pretty soon that's all they're going to have because sellers will be leaving in DROVES over this. This new system will leave us sellers wide open to scammers and untrustworthy buyers. Buyers may be supposedly more fair about the ratings they leave, but it opens us up to NUMEROUS false claims. This new change is akin to signing the death warrant for an already faltering site! Don't they care about sellers? You know, those of us people that are the ones paying THEM all the money to list? They are so concerned about getting buyers to the site that they forget buyers don't pay eBay ONE RED CENT! I can tell you one group that will be thrilled about these changes - eBAY COMPETITORS!

eBay has always told us that Feedback is both trading partners voluntary opinion of a transaction. Well now, that means my opinion can only be positive? I don't think so!

Now, we can have buyers bid or BIN our listings and then send a nice ASQ that states "Leave me a glowing positive feedback within 24 hours or you'll get a big fat NEG" And what are we going to do about that if it happens? Nothing....eBay has taken that right away from us!
Not only is this supremely unfair to those of us who are trying to make a (substandard) living, but I'm fairly sure it is not entirely legal.

Please, any eBay sellers reading this: Add your voice to the rest of ours. There are currently multiple petitions on the eBay forums to stop these outrageous changes.

At least we're safe until she procreates....

2008-01-25T18:33:00.000-05:00

I'm going to preface this post be saying I hate to cook. Or at least I used to. Then the kids came along, I became a SAHM, and fish sticks and take out pizza just didn't cut it anymore. I am not known as a fantastic cook, but I am infamous as a creative cook. I think it's my inner Mad Scientist that loves the idea of combining many foreign items and turning them into something edible. Usually. I can turn a Thanksgiving turkey into 20 different incarnations. Pork chops and chicken breasts are my medium for art.

Now I am going to relate a story that is entirely true, but names have been changed to protect the terminally stupid. Our characters today are SP {Smarter Person} and DA {Dumb Assistant}. Admit it, you thought I was going to call DA something else. Geez you've got a mean streak!

So the characters: SP and DA. The setting: A normal kitchen

SP is at the counter, showing DA how to make homemade taco seasoning mix. Cheap, tastes better than the storebought, easy. There is a skillet of ground beef cooking on the stove. It is time let loose the inner Mad Scientist and begin mixing things. Ground beef is drained & rinsed. Seasoning & water have been added. SP is adding a little extra salt to the mix, and salt shaker slips from hand, allowing some salt to pour into the burner SP & DA are using. Some, for people who can eyeball measurements like SP can, being about a teaspoon or so. Here's where it gets interesting.

DA: Whips skillet off burner and quickly turns the dial to off
SP: What in the hell are you doing?
DA: You spilled salt on the burner! Are you trying to burn down my kitchen?!?
SP: Calmy brushes excess salt away, turns burner back on and replaces skillet
SP: Do you remember before Christmas when the grease caused a little flare up on the back burner?
DA: Yes.
SP: Do you remember what I poured on the burner to quickly stop small fire from becoming big fire?
DA: Yes. You grabbed the big container of salt and dumped it on there.
SP: Gives DA a fixed stare, trying hard to keep hands on skillet and off of DA's neck
DA: (realization sinking in) Oh! Hahaha!

In all fairness, DA is not truly dumb. Clueless and naive....yes.

Okay, end of narration, confession time begins. When I first started cooking I cook make about 3 things that didn't come out of a pouch or box that you just added water to. Spaghetti, scrambled eggs and baked potatoes. (But I could bake a mean corndog, damnit!) I learned, with a lot of help from those pouches and boxes. I was clumsy at first. (But again, in all fairness, I am uber-clumsy IRL. Walls walk in front of me and I trip over lint on the floor) I spilled ingredients, cut myself, and burned everything from the corn muffins to my fingers. I can now cook a full T-Day dinner while reading a Harry Potter novel and teaching math to a second grader at the same time. So, I can forgive some initial stupidity. Hell, I invented intial stupidty.

But if I, oops, I mean SP, am to continue giving DA cooking tips, I need to know if anyone out there has a hard hat, an asbestos suit and some strong sedatives for sale.

Geez I stink at this

2008-01-11T22:34:00.000-05:00

You'd think by now I'd have the hang of all this html junk, but....no. So I'm still playing around. Consider this another test. But this was so damn cute, I had to try it:

Big Crumbs??

2008-01-11T22:07:00.000-05:00

Just one more bit of shameless plugging. Trying out yet another new site to try and get some traffic to my store. Let's see if this works:

BigCrumbs Shopping for eBay and more!">

Amanda's Little Bit of Everything

2008-01-08T18:50:00.000-05:00

Okay, a little bit of shameless self promoting here while I try out a link to my eBay store.

http://stores.ebay.com/Amandas-Little-Bit-of-Everything_W0QQsspagenameZMEQ3aFQ3aSTQQtZkm

Books, DVDs & VHS, games, clothes. I guess that's why I called it 'a little bit of everything.'
I also work as a Trading Assistant, and am always willing to take on new clients. Contact me through eBay if you're interested.

Okay, end of self-promoting. For today anway. But expect more to come if I can ever get the ebay-to-go logo thing to work. ;-)

I'm back! New...not so improved

2008-01-08T18:39:00.000-05:00

I can't believe it's been almost a year and a half since I posted. I actually surprised myself by even remembering my original log-in and password to the site. My life is so hectic, I almost forgot my address when I was ordering pizza earlier.

I wish I could say that my life has changed soooo drastically, but really, not so much. With 2 elementary-aged boys around the house all day, plus the Toddler, I'm in a bit of a rut. Even if the older boys were in regular public school it would still be rough. Ugh..terrible twos. And if one more person tells me that the three-year-olds are worse, I'm going to do one of two things. I'll either A) get myself fitted for a straight jacket and rent a nice padded room with a view; or B) smack them. Option A is not as much fun, but probably won't get charges pressed against me either.

Well, there is good news. we finally moved into our house about a year ago. we'd been remodeling forever. It's still only about 2/3 finished, but it's better than shelling out rent. There are bonuses to living in a house-in-process. Firstly, we don't have cabinet doors or anything on the kitchen cabinets, so grabbing things and putting dishes away is easy. But we don't have any regular doors on the interior of the house either. Like, for instance, on the bathrooms. Now, I live in a male-dominated household. I gave up any pretense of privacy or dignity a long time ago. But visitors still find it a bit disconcerting.

And the biggest bonus of all was getting rid of my pain-in-the-ass mooching brother-in-law. One day, when I can look back at the year and a half he lived with us and find humor in it, there will be a 20 page blog post about him. And if you're reading this, BIL, you know who you are, and good godamn riddance.

How to Feed a 9 Month Old Baby

2006-09-17T09:25:00.000-04:00

Okay, so you have this baby, and its hungry. You should be used to this by now...right? Well, he's a guide for those who are not quite beginners.

1. Retrieve hungry crying baby from under the table/ behind the chair/ out of the laundry room.
2. Place him in highchair or other desired feeding aparatus. Once he climbs out, place him in it again.
3. Securely attach a bib to the front of baby. Staples work best, but all but the most stalwart of babes will cry. Try SuperGlue.
4. Gather jars of baby food and spoon.
5. If need, heat food in microwave.
6. Place a large protective mat over you, floor and anything else non-washable in the immediate vicinty.
7. Spoon food into baby's mouth. Now stop him from crying. The food was too hot? Next time check the temperature, idiot.
8. Spoon more food into baby's mouth.
9. Now wipe that spoonful off baby's cheek, chin, forehead, whatever.
10. Retrieve spoon after baby whacks it (complete with pureed spinach) out of your hand.
11. Continue until baby is full, or food is gone.
12. Get large bucket of soapy water and scrub off highchair, walls, etc.
13. Call the drycleaners for a quote on how much it will cost to get pureed spinach out of wool.
14. Wait two hours and start all over again.

More dumbing down of America

2006-04-21T13:42:00.000-04:00

WARNING: For all those who think that American society consists of mainly intellectual people, or that we on a whole are smarter than other nations, you may want to skip this part. These labels all came from products people here use everyday!

On a Duraflame fireplace log: "Caution: Risk of Fire."
On a compact disc player: "Do not use the Ultradisc 2000 as a projectile in a catapult."
On a propane torch: "Never use while sleeping."
On a box of rat poison: "Warning-Has been found to cause cancer in labratory mice."
On an air conditioner: "Avoid dropping unit out of window."
On a vacuum cleaner: "Do not use to pick up anything that is currently burning."
On a Batman costume: "Warning-Cape does not enable user to fly."
On a bottle of hair dye: "Do not use as an ice-cream topping."
On a curling iron: "Warning-This product can burn eyes."
On a cardboard windshield screen: "Do not drive with sunshield in place."
On a toner cartridge: "Do not eat toner."
On a toilet bowl cleaning brush: "Do not use orally."
On a pair of shin guards: "Shin pads cannot protect any part of the body they do not cover."
On a portable stroller: "Caution-Remove infant before folding for storage."
On a plastic, 13-inch wheelbarrow wheel: "Not intended for highway use."
On a laser pointer: "Do not look into laser with remaining eye."
In a microwave oven manual: "Do not use for drying pets."
In the instructions for a digital thermometer: "Do not use orally after using rectally."

These are all honest-to-goodness labels. What bothers me isn't the fact that manufacturers have to warn people about things like this; it's the fact that for them to be added, someone must have done it, or asked the company about it. Scary shit, huh??

This is why I prefer swimming pools

2006-04-21T13:24:00.000-04:00

*Sharks can detect the heartbeats of other fish
*Mako sharks have been known to jump into the very fishing boats that are pursuing them.
*Bull sharks have been known to kill hippopotamuses in African rivers
*Approximately 10 times more men than women are attacked by sharks (though this doesn't ease my mind any)
*While in a feeding frenzy, some sharks bite their own bodies as they twist and turn
*A 730-pound mako shark caught off Bimini in the Bahamas contained in it's stomach a 120-pound swordfish--with the sword still intact
*Lemon sharks grow a whole new set of teeth every two weeks
*Sharks have a sixth sense. They can navigate by sensing changes in the earth's magnetic field
*Sharks will continue to atteck even when disemboweled
*Greenland sharks have been observed eating reindeer that fall through ice
*Some sharks can detect one part of blood in 100 million parts of water
*Bull sharks have been knownt o pursue their victims onto land
*The jaws of an 8-foot shark exert a force of 20 tons per square inch
*The average shark can swallow anything half its size in one gulp
*The original idea for steak knives derived from shark's teeth
*Approximately 100 shark attacks on humans occur world wide each year

So go ahead and scuba dive in those crystal-blue, bath-tub warm waters. Slip ont hat wet suit and dive down to explore. That's their territory, and they were here first. Okay, i give up......they win! Maybe, just maybe, if a shark and his family move into the house next door, I'll be a little more open minded about getting in the ocean.

DON'T

2006-04-21T13:21:00.000-04:00

Don't get mad. Don't get even. Just get elected...then get even.
Don't marry a man to reform him-that's what reform schools are for.
Don't ever send a man window shopping. He'll come back carrying a window.
Don't take life too seriously. You'll never get out alive.
Don't worry if you're a kleptomaniac, you can always take something for it.
Don't worry about people stealing an idea. If it's original, you'll have to ram it down their throats.
Don't meet trouble halfway. It's quite capable of making the entire journey.
Don't carry a grudge. While you're carrying the grudge, the other guy's out dancing.
Don't steal. The government hates competition.
Don't blame God, He's only human.
Don't dig for water under an outhouse.
Don't just do something, stand there.
Don't compromise yourself. You're all you've got.
Don't worry about the world coming to an end today. It's already tomorrow in Australia.

New Rules For Dieters

2006-04-18T15:31:00.000-04:00

Ok, it's that season again when I realize it is 6 weeks or so until I will be seen in a bikini. I look better now than I did in high school, and for that I'm extremely grateful. However, having a baby this winter has added a few extra pounds I'd rather not be carrying. So I invented some rules of my own to help shed the poundage.

1. Calories are afraid of heights. My mother taught me this one. You place all your junky, fatty foods on the highest shelves of the cupboard and the calories, who are running for their lives, will simply jump out.
2. Calories consumed while driving or while working on the computer do not count.
3. Any food eaten at parties or picnics or any type of holiday/family affair will not add to your fat factor. It is just not fair to ask your body to fight off food consumed at something you were invited to (this is doubly so if you had to purchase and bring a gift to said party).
4. If you don't remember eating it, it doesn't count either.
5. Eating candy from the kids' Easter baskets doesn't matter. After all, it's their candy, not yours.
6. It is perfectly okay to eat something like broccoli or cauliflower smothered with cheese. Duh! It's broccoli!
7. Any food consumed during the preparation of other food doesn't count.
8. If you haven't eaten anything else at all all day long, half a bag of Cheetos will consume the space in your body that is vacant, and will not add extra fat.
9. If you use a cookie jar that makes noise when opened, or one of those refridgerator policemen, use a piece of duct tape over the speaker, or better yet, take out the batteries. Theory being that if no one hears, it didn't happen.
10. From now on, all the following will count as exercise: Singing in the shower, typing, carrying a heavy laundry detergent bottle from the car to the washing machine, shoe shopping, manicures & pedicures, and of course, brushing your teeth.

Happy dieting, and good luck!

consumerism and new bunk beds

2006-03-22T07:44:00.000-05:00

I spent a long day yesterday helping my husband to assemble bunk beds for our two oldest boys. It was one of those kits from Kmart with everything you need laid out nice and simple, but the directions could have been in mandarin chinese for all the help they were. Anyway, I noticed how every single board had a little sticker on it with the number and "Made in Viet Nam" on it. So I'm standing in the kids' room sorrounded by about $2,000 worth of toys that my kids have. Most of them were all bought in the last two years or so, as kids their age tend to cycle through toys pretty quickly. There was enough stuff to fill a land fill in there. At least the boys are grateful, and they do take care of their things. My boys haven't been hit with the worst of consumerism, because we don't get cable or watch regular TV or anything. So I don't have to put up with them begging for toys every five minutes that they see on commercials. But anyway, I'm standing there staring at these stickers thinking that some mal-nourished kid named Yu Phat earned the equivalent of $2.16 spending all day painting the beds for my over-priveledged children. But the worst part is I didn't really mind.

I confess.....

2006-03-19T17:22:00.000-05:00

I bite my toenials.
I don't get the Matrix movies.
I think Tom Petty is pretty sexy.
I used to have a crush on Data (the asian kid) from the Goonies.
Donald Sutherland is hotter than Keifer.
Zombie movies totally freak me out, even cheesy ones.
I always wondered how Samwise stayed so chubby even though they did all that walking and climbing and they didn't have much food.

Fuck You, Wizards of the Coast

2005-09-15T08:50:00.000-04:00

I have been playing Dungeons and Dragons for roughly half my life. There are two kinds of people in this world: those who have never played D&D, and those of us who weren't like other children. I'm considered 'old school' because I prefer the Advanced D&D 2nd edition over the redone, revamped, and totally incomprehensible 3.0 or 3.5 editions. I recently read "Celebrating 30 years of D&D." And that's why I say fuck you WOTC. Gary Gygax (for those of you who don't know--first of all why are you reading this post, and 2nd of all, he's the father of D&D and RPGs in general) is mentioned about twice in the whole book. It's like WOTC is saying, Gary Gygax didn't invent the pen, he just found a way to put the ink in it. They give him no credit at all. WOTC bought out TSR during desperate times, and personally I think they destroyed it. Commercialized it. Let's face it. ( And I can say this because I am a gamer) D&D is not a hip cool game for hip cool people. D&D is a game that requires creativity and imagination. It's for us people with pale skin who weren't that great at sports to unleash themselves into a world of complete fantasy. If you ask me, there is still nothing more fun then sitting down at my kitchen table with 4 or 5 friends with character sheets, dice and pencils for a marathon gaming session. If you've ever played you know. If you haven't, then you never will.

Don't complain to me, complain to the manufacturer

2005-09-15T08:33:00.000-04:00

I'm now 6 1/2 months pregnant and I still smoke. I've cut down, but I haven't quit. Mainly, I don't smoke in public anymore, because my belly is finally starting to poke out, and I get sick of the dirty looks and rude comments. But honestly, I know I don't have the only bad habit. Because my insurance sucks (state issue medical card) I am forced to go to the clinic at the hospital instead of seeing a private doctor. It's horrible there. A giant, unprofessional cattle call. Me and 30 other pregnant women. The nurses frown at me and give me lectures when I say I'm still smoking, but they say nothing to the girl sitting across from me with a 1 liter of Mountain Dew in her hand. No one says anything to a pregnant woman sitting in Burger King with 2 Whoppers, a super size fry and soda in front of her. Or to the pregnant woman who sits on her ass watching Dr Phil and Ricki Lake all day. I don't drink soda or eat fast food. My kids and I walk everywhere. So you're saying that me smoking 8 or 10 cigarettes a day is killing myself and my baby?!?! Back in the 50s, smoking was vogue. It was in. It was cool. Everyone did everywhere. You smoked in stores and doctors offices. Babies were born looking around the room for an ashtray to park their Lucky Strikes. Now don't tell me cigarettes are any worse today than they were forty years ago. The dangers are all still there. Yet surprisingly, we have a whole generation grown up whose mothers smoked and they are fine for the most part. Let me sum this whole rant up with one example, one that I know personally. I smoked during my 1st pregnancy (pot as well as tobacco), but I also filled myself with the best foods I could get my hands on. Lots of milk and oj, fresh fruit & veggies, whole grains and lean meats. No caffeine, no sugar. Plenty of exercise. My kids are 2 of the healthiest specimens you will ever see. My sister-in-law smoked cigarettes, drank soda by the quart, ate fast food, pizza, cookies and chips everyday. Her idea of home-cooking or fresh food was frying the fish sticks and french fries herself. Both of my nephews are behind developmentally. WAY behind. The 8 year old has major hearing & speech issues, and the 4 year old has the mentality and behaviour of a 2 yr old. There's my example, make of it what you will.

25 Things I've Learned In 24 Years

2005-08-10T13:40:00.000-04:00

1. The badness of a movie is directly proportional to the numbers of helicopters in it.
2. You will never find anybody who can give you a clear and compelling reason why we observe "Daylight Savings Time."
3. People who feel the need to tell you that they have an excellent sense of humor are telling you that they have no sense of humor.
4. The most valuable function performed by the federal government is entertainment.
5. You should never say anything to a woman that even remotely suggests you think she's pregnant unless you can see an actual baby emerging from her at that moment.
6. A penny saved is worthless.
7. They can hold all the peace talks they want, but there will never be peace in the Middle East. Billions of years from now when there is nothing left alive on the planet except a few microorganisms, the microorganisms in the Middle East will still be bitter enemies.
8. The most powerful force in the universe is gossip.
9. The one thing that untes all human beings, regardless of age, gender, religion, economic status or ethnic background, is that deep down inside we all believe we're better drivers than every body else.
10. There comes a time when you should stop expecting other people to make a big deal about your birthday. That time is: age 11.
11. There is a very fine line between "hobby" and "mental illness."
12. People who want to share their religious views with you almost never want you to share yours with them.
13. There apparently exists, somewhere in Los Angeles, a computer that generates concepts for television sitcoms. When TV executives need a new concept, they turn on this computer; after sorting through millions of possible plot premises, it spits out, "Three Quirky But Attractive Young People Living In An Apartment." And then the next time they need something it comes out with "Six Quirky But Attractive Young People Living In An Apartment." And so on. We need to locate this ocmputer and destroy it with hammers.
14. Nobody is normal.
15. At least once per year, some group of scientists will become very excited and announce that:
*The universe is even bigger than they thought!
*There are even more subatomic particles than they thought!
*Whatever they announced last year about global

The big picture

2005-07-29T11:19:00.000-04:00

I think God might've known a little something about what he was doing when he put families together. Not always, because there are plenty of exceptions to the rule. But mostly I think he had the right idea. By placing certain people together, things usually fall into place. This happens by birth, adopting, fostering, step-parenting and integrated families. Sometimes things just work out in the way they were meant to. My family for instance. Both my parents and my older brother are down right terrified of spiders. My brother has of late tried to overcome his fear by watching movies & documentaires, but he still doesn't get closer that a foot or so to the terrariums in the zoo. I, on the other hand, can pluck them off my shirt or brush them away without a second thought. So, since I became old enough, I have been the spider and other creepy bug displacer in my family. My parents are out-and-out treehuggers. They shudder at the thought of harming ANY living creature. Except, duh, spiders. My father will not step on a spider. He will instead reach for a can of Raid and (not, he doesn't just give the poor arachnid a spritz or 2) he will hold the can and spray until the thing drowns instead of just being poisoned. So I think God knew what he was doing by placing me with these insane people. It was his way of insuring that these 3 people do not end up standing on chairs shrieking at a daddy-long-legs for the rest of their lives. Now, that happened by birth right. But when I think of my family now, my husband and 2.5 children, this is what I mean by the right people coming together at the right time. They are all allergic to wasps, bees and hornets. Their reactions go from moderate to severe. If I get stung, I pluck out the stinger and go about my business with just a bump and a little pain. So now I am also the flying-insect dispenser. No I don't think either of these was an accident. He saw a need, an opening you could say, and I fit the bill. I'm not saying I'm the completely unpertable one in this place. I have my own hang-ups and things that give me the creeps. But mainly it's dead things. We've had quite a few of our lizards & frogs die over time, and I simply can't go near the tank until it is disposed of. I've called my sister-in-law to walk to my house and remove a dead frog from his tank so I could walk through the room again. My husband just reaches in and pulls whatever out and stuffs it into a bag. So, our hodge-podge family might just seem that way on the surface. None of it was coincidental or anything. We got in each others way on purpose, because we had to for one reason or another. No, I wouldn't call it fate, destiny or even ka. Just the big picture.

JKR, HBP and APWBD

2005-07-23T09:29:00.000-04:00

Okay, so she killed Dumbledore. Can't say I'm shocked, exactly. Afterall, we can't honestly expect Potter to live happily ever after considering all that's happened to him. That's just about it as concerns my reviews of the book. I must say, though, that I'm happy that Harry isn't quite so much of a little asshole in book 6.

My post today is about the people I met the night I went and bought the book. My brother, sister-in-law and myself went to one of the midnight sales at our local bookstore. The people there were about 30% kids, 70% adults. Also not very surprising. We are not HP geeks. We simply waited 2 years for this frigging book. A lot of the kids were dressed up. Even more adult were dressed up than kids. While in line, we had the good fortune to be standing in line in front of Hagrid. (No, not Robbie Coltrane) This was (I assume) a reasonably sane adult male of overlarge size who decided it would be a good idea to don a large over coat, shaggy wig & beard, and speak in the worst phony British voice I have ever heard. FOR TWO HOURS! The three of us were biting our lips and insides of our cheeks so hard that it hurt to talk the next day. But wait! There's more! After wending our way through to the back of the store, we had to wend our way back up to the cash register to actually purchase the book. (And believe me, the temptation to skim through the last chapter or so of the book and reveal the spoilers out loud was extremely tempting.) I noticed that my dear friend 'Hagrid' also purchased a few other gems, including: "The Christian wisdom of the Jedi religion" "Being a Wizard in a Muggle World" and (I saved the best for last) "Releasing the Wizard in You: How to break free of your Muggle chains". I can only wonder, where was he carrying his pink umbrella?

may God grant a Y chromosome

2005-07-01T15:04:00.000-04:00

Okay, this whole baby thing again........
My husband decided he's going to name the baby. We won't even know what is it for another month or so. But, he has already decided on a name for either. I'm not going to disclose the names at the moment. The boy name isn't too bad. I could live with it. Which I know isn't how you're supposed to feel about your child's name, but I'll take whatever I can get. However, the girl name he has choosen is so bad, that I actually lie awake at night scared to death its going to be a girl. There's been a few times that I have cried over this. I am honetsly petrified that I'll burst into tears at the ultrasound if it shoes we're having a girl. Beofer he broke out these names, I really couldnt't have cared less which we got. We have two boys, so it would've been alright to make 3 of a kind. On the other hand, since we do have 2 boys, a girl would've been a nice change of place.
But since the advent of this atrocious name, I am praying for another boy. What am I supposed to do in a situation like this? I've told him over and over and over again how I feel about it. But, he just shakes his head with this smile on his face and say's "Nope, it's gonna be ______ for a girl" like it's a joke or something. No parenting magazine has ever covered this particular subject. I've conisdered what options I do have, and they all look terrifyingly bleak:
1. I could consider widow-hood before the birth.
2. Secretly pay off the nurses to switch babies.
3. Dope him up after the birth and fill out the certificate while he's out cold.
4. Tell him that the name he's picked turns out to be the #1 ranked name for little girls in Iraq.
5. Reverse psychology: start using the name so often he wants to throw up every time he hears it.
6. Point out ugly babies and say "Hey, her name is ____, too!"
7. Tell him it translates to a swear word in Swahilli/Eskimo/ or other obsure language.
8. Finally, give in and let him name the baby and just call her "It" or "Hey You"

I'd be stupid not to do this!

2005-06-19T15:59:00.000-04:00

I am finally getting used to having a stranger moving in with us. Someone who will constantly demand things from me and run my life in general. Also, it's probably going to cost me an arm and a leg to give them room, board and food. The worst part is, the authorities will come after me if I even hint about throwing them out.

Now, for all you stupid people...you know who you are (maybe you don't know who you are!) this means we're having a baby. The baby books and child-rearing books never put it like I just did. Here's my example of baby-book-ese translated into English for all you wanna-be parents:

1. Having a child will change your life. Translation: Your life will never never be the same.

2. A baby is a joy to welcome into the family. Translation: As long as you are not the parents. It certaintly is wonderful for the grandparents, aunts and cousins who can come and visit, and then get to go home to their nice, quiet, clean house when the kid starts wailing.

3. Bonding with your baby is a wonderful thing. Translation: It sure is. Especially if you are a nursing mother. Nothing like sitting on the couch with your shirt over your head for 12 hours a day and a kid attached to the front of you to get a really strong bond going.

You probably think I am being way too negative, or, you're pyscho-analyzing me and thinking I'm scared out of my wits. (You'd be right on both counts, by the way) But this is actually going to be kid #3. I know the tricks and turns. I know how to wash the baby without drowning him, and I've yet to put a diaper on backwards.

All I'm saying is come into my home on a bad day. Then snap a few pictures. This would be the new poster for birth control.

TV's Rules To Live By

2005-06-10T08:10:00.000-04:00

"Remember: the Eagle may soar but the weasel never gets sucked up into a jet engine." --Rick Simon, Simon and Simon
"The first thing to do when you're being stalked by an angry mob with raspberries, is to release a tiger." --John Cleese, Monty Python's Flying Circus
"Always enter a strange hotel room with extreme caution, especially one with a samurai warrior in it." --Thomas Magnum, Magnum P.I.
"If you can't fight 'em, and they won't let you join 'em, best get out of the county" --Pappy Maverick, Maverick
"Just keep laughin'" --Bozo the Clown, Bozo's Circus
"The older you get, the better you get-unless you're a banana." --Rose, The Golden Girls
"Like my old skleenball coach used to say, 'Find out what you don't do well, then don't do it.' " --Alf, ALF
"As we say in the sewer, if you're not prepared to go all the way, don't put your boots on in the first place." --Ed Norton, The Honeymooners
"An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of bandages and adhesive tape."
--Groucho Marx, You Bet Your Life
"It's been the lesson of my life that nothing that sounds that good ever really happens." --Alex Reiger, Taxi
"Never wear polyester underwear if you're going to be hit by lightning."
--Roz, Night Court
"A watched cauldron never bubbles." --Morticia Addams, The Addams Family

my empty marble bag

2005-05-27T16:28:00.000-04:00

**What kind of person am I that I can feed 4 pairs of socks into the washer two at a time, and when I retrieve them from the dryer have a total of 7 or 9?
**How come I'm never informed I have a Spongebob sticker on my butt until I've spent 6 hours walking around a zoo?
**I put fishsticks on a baking sheet. Then I put them in the oven at the alloted temperature for the alloted time. So how can they be burnt to a crisp outside and frozen inside? (Sheer haute cuisine, I suspect)
**Why do I always choose the check-out lane and get stuck behind the little old lady who has to write a check for $3.64 to pay for her bananas and loaf of bread?
**If a 7 year old tells you you're a bad driver, is it okay to give him a crack upside his head?
**Why do I feel old because I remember the words to the Fraggle Rock theme song, and how come I'm the only one who remembers the Fraggles anyhow?
(Gobo, Red, Mokey, Boober, Wimbley....and don't forget the Gorgs and the Doozers!)
**Why do people get rude with me when they get a call-waiting beep and leave me on hold in phone limbo, so I hang up?
**Do telemarketers have souls?

The joy of the 4th percentile

2005-05-24T10:29:00.000-04:00

My birth control pills, which I have been taking since I was 16 (minus the 9 months or so with the twins) are said to be 96% effective. Needless to say, my husband is strutting around because he is now in that ever-elusive 4th percent of guys. Which also, needless to say, means we'll have another member joining this dysfunctional family this coming winter. His super sperm have no limits, apparently. Happy happy. Joy joy. Cry with us? Rejoice with us? I'll let you know.

My own personal Monster-in-Law

2005-05-17T11:00:00.000-04:00

I know, I know. All the stories about horrid mothers-in-law are so cliche. But I was awoken at 11:oo pm last night to be informed my own personal horror would be visiting us today. I would rather have been awoken and told that our front porch collapsed, or the street sweeper destroyed my truck, or even that one of the boys was suddenly a female or something. My husband has no warm and cozy feeling sof rhis mother, either. She visits us once every six months for an hour or two. in another cliche, nothing I do is right. I'm too young for my husband (I really must do something to remedy that), I'm a bad housekeeper, a bad cook, a bad mother. The kids are 4. They always have scatches, bruises and scraped knees. But as soon as she spots one of them, she'll grab them and turn them to me, and this is how the dialogue goes:
MIL: "What happened? What did you do?"
me: "He fell down, Joyce."
MIL: "Why did you let him fall down?"
me: "I didn't let him fall I pushed him down!"
So, now I must be off to clean and polish my house. Maybe I should loofah down my lizards so that any shedding skin doesn't offend her eyes or something. Also, I have to abuse my children a little, so that she can play affectionate-and-caring-grandmother. Plus, I have to throw all my husband's clothes into the yard and grub them up a little, and then leave them in a basket outside the laundry room. (That's a little extra so she can say I'm not taking care of him, either) If I knew what plane she was coming in on, I'd call in a bomb threat. Her #1 reason I'm a horrible person who should not be entrusted with anything? (For real here, people) I'm a natural blue-eyed blonde that stands 5' 7" and weigh 130 lbs. Apparently to her, I don't look "real" and I will probably abandon my family and run off with some Latino lover, only to end up whoring myself on the street for $10 a trick.
On a side note that is completely, totally unrelated: Does anyone know where I can pick up some arsenic cheap? Or possibly belladonna?

Drywall, drywall everywhere, yet all our walls are cracked

2005-05-14T13:23:00.000-04:00

My husband has his own, very successful, drywall business. He works for a home manufacturer across the river in Pennsylvania. He is very good at what he does. So why does every wall in our house have cracks in it? First of all, we rent our home. Its large, and old, and contains two rambunctious boys, numerous lizards, frogs, hamsters and such. I guess it's the old adage about the shoemakers kids' going barefoot. He never has the time for our house. But there is dryed up joint compound all over the place. Anyone who's been near the stuff knows that when it dries, it crumbles easily and falls off clothing, skin, etc. I'll tell you this story real quick. One of the boys started running a fever that kept climbing to about 103 degrees. We took him to the ER, and he was diagnosed with an inner ear infection. (Which neither boy has had in his life) While the doc was examining his ear, he noticed a large, infected cut near his eardrum. Cleaning it, he found......a chunk of drywall compound. Resulting from: A wet-willy given to him by his dad when dad had some drywall under his fingernails. How did a normal person like me end up in a life like this?

I'm telling Dr. Phil that you ruined my childhood memories

2005-05-14T10:02:00.000-04:00

My heart has sunk. All is lost. Nothing will ever be the same again. They have remade Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. This is the end for me. Johnny Depp cannot be Willy Wonka. It's not right. It's sacrilege, damnit. Gene Wilder is the only Willy Wonka. Why are they doing this to me??? What have I done wrong??? And, now I also hear that a remake of Revenge of the Nerds is in the making. And Howard Stern has redone Porky's. Is nothing sacred? What will I have to look back on after this? Ashton Kutcher as Gilbert and Sean William Scott as Booger? NO!!!! What about PeeWee and Meat? Oh Lord this can't be happening. What next....a remake of Labyrinth, or maybe Sesame Street's Follow That Bird? (Shit, now I went and gave them more ideas)

Why creepazoid??

2005-05-13T12:48:00.000-04:00

The first andonly time I have ever heard of this phrase was in a Stephen King book, The Dark Half. It's used to describe a slimy reporter that's a waste of air. But that's not why I chose it. It seems this little guy brought out the worst in everyone. And that seems to be my specialty. Since I started this blog, my husband and they guys who work for him read it everyday to see what I've posted. They've seen I pulled my brother (who's like my best friend), my parents, and even my kids into the mix. They're scared to death of the day they'll see something about themselves. I have the unusual talent to be able to always see the darker, more cynical side of things. In other words, I bring out the worst. People who spend long periods of time in my company generally come to like me. But sometimes my mouth says things before my brain can stop them. So, their baser natures come out in my prescence. And in life, as in the blog, I tell the truth. So one day, I'll have to describe the circus, uh.... I mean his work crew. And I'll probably just tell them I didn't post anything that day.

Eeek! Friday the 13th! and other stupid superstitions

2005-05-13T08:01:00.000-04:00

Admittedly, I didn't even remember that today was the most superstitious of all days. The worst thing to ever happen to me on on a Fri.13 was a pop quiz. I'm a moderately superstitious person. If I spill salt, I throw some over my shoulder. I will not split a pole when walking with someone I like (If I don't like them, not only will I split the pole, I'll probably shove them in the street or something). If someone else is washing their hands at the same sink as me, I will not change the soap directly from hand to hand, I'll set it down instead. Ladders are not unlucky. Black cats are not unlucky. The only unlucky thing that can happen would be if you were standing on a step ladder and a dog chased a black cat under it, hit the ladder, and you fell. I can see how that would be construed as unlucky. I will not light three on a match, but only because I'm tired of my broke ass friends mooching everything they can get. If they can't find their own damn match, screw 'em. I will not sit down at a table if the number then comes out to 13. But only for the same reason as mentioned above. Damn moochers. I won't drink out of a cracked glass. But only because that poses some health issues rather than superstitious ones. Breaking a mirror is only unlucky if you have no other mirror. I do knock on wood if I'm speaking of something favorable that I would like to continue. But considering all the cheap fiberboard furniture floating around, most likely it's not real wood anyway. I firmly belive in moons and goochers if my buddies and I are flipping for something. In the case of either happening, I know it's my coins being used and if it comes up a moon, I'll get my dimes back. If it's a goocher, I'll never see them again. Friday the 13th is just another calendar day. It could just as easily have been Tuesday the 22nd that we all got nervous on.

Does the Tooth Fairy have e-mail?

2005-05-09T12:21:00.000-04:00

I certaintly hope so, because my goddamn dentist can explain my problem to her himself. The drill-happy bastard ripped out two of my teeth, and wouldn't even let me keep them afterwards. So, here I sit with a mouthful of gauze, two big ol' gaping holes in my gums that weren't there this morning, and I'm not allowed to eat, drink or smoke. Come on, man, that last one is just mean! And I asked him what they did with all the teeth. He said they're sterilized and thrown away. (Which is good, because I had imagined him using everyone's pulled teeth and selling them to spray paint companies to get that weird little rattle in the can) I asked for my teeth. First I got a weird look. Then he told me no. Those teeth had been with me for damn near two decades and I wasn't even allowed to keep them. Bastard. I should've bit him when I had the chance.

More views on our strange way of life

2005-05-09T08:06:00.000-04:00

Tattoos. Now, I've got plenty of them. So does my hubby, my brother, and quite a few friends. But sometimes I truly think that people get them just to have them, and not for any meaningful reason. Okay, I'm not saying that every tat has to have deep personal meaning for you. But you should not be able to walk into any ink parlor in the world, point at a random design and say "Yeah, put that on me" The reason for this post is I have a friend, who shall remain nameless. (Actually, I should tell you his name just so everyone can join in on ranking this guy with me) He stopped at our house to show off his new tattoo. He got Mel Gibson's face in full blue & white Braveheart makeup tattoo'ed on his shoulder. It's not bad looking. Pretty good likeness. But what I really, really wanted to know, was why exactly? Did Mel call him up and ask for his pic so he could get a tattoo of him? I doubt it. But, hey you never know. Another dumb guy I know spent three days letting his friend put a tribal design on the back of his neck. Now everyone with ink knows that as it starts healing, some ink will peel away from the skin. Usually it's just a little. But I noticed right off that there was a lot of ink peeling up. One week after completion, and you couldn't even tell it'd ever been done. A 15 year old kid I knew got a weird mushroom tat on his neck, because his girlfriend liked the design. (It was kinda gay looking) They broke up a few months later. I know people that have gotten Nike checks, the dog from Red Dog beer (and we all know how long that stayed popular), the donkey from Retarded Animal Babies, Kenny from South Park, and one girl got a dolphin that looks like Flipper needs some serious cosmetic surgery. But the winner in really dumb tattoos is my cousin. He got a leg with a high heel on the foot done down his left arm, and another down the left side of his chest. So naturally, with his arm pit hair it looks like.....well, hopefully you can use your imagination. But that's not his award winner. He also has a rope tattoo'ed around his neck in a noose style, with the loops of the noose going down his back. Once again, I only asked why.

I'll give up my controller when you pry it from my cold, dead hands

2005-05-06T17:36:00.000-04:00

I've been a video game addict since I was 8 and my parents got my brother and me an 8-bit Nintendo. We worshipped that thing. By the time we upgraded systems, we must've had 50 games. (Plus the game Genie and the code books) The bad thing is, it's still hooked up in my parents basement, along with our Atari and the multitude of games my dad collected for it. (Pitfall rocks!)
We took good care of our crap. Hence, my SNES is currently hooked up and entertaining my twins. Kids whining? Throw in Mario Paint for an hour or so. Unfortunately, one mouse causes a few problems. I also have my original PlayStation (now 8 years old) and my XBox hooked up. I admit, our entertainment center looks a little funky with the variety of technology spread all over it. I am a junky. One day you'll probably meet me in a church basement with a "Hello, My Name Is _____" sticker on my shirt. But I know that I won't be alone. For one thing, my brother and my kids will be sitting on either side of me. We have been known to waste whole periods of time trying to defeat a certain boss or get past a particular section. I'm not talking about an hour here or there. I mean 9 or 10 hours. It's really cutting into my Dungeons and Dragons RPG time. It wouldn't be quite so bad if I hadn't found a Super GameBoy. So now I can play all my classic GB games on the SNES right there on my 32" TV. My husband doesn't recognize me without a controller of some sort in my hand and an ashtray beside me. I need help. I know all the Pokemon and their special moves. (No, the kids don't play it. I do) I argue with the boys when they pretend to have trainer battles, and Travis says that his Geodude can beat Alec's Vileplume. I cut in...."No, Travis. Use Charmeleon, rock is weak against plant type!"

Getting My Geek On

2005-05-06T17:24:00.000-04:00

I'll start by saying that for my b-day this year, my older brother purchased an XBox for me, and we pimped it out. We did everything but put spinners on it. We yanked the cover off and filled it with blue el-wire and blue LEDs. Then we slapped a retro virus looking skin on it. We also had to pimp out a couple of Mad Catz controllers. Filled 'em with lights, too. So anyway, until two days ago I had a total of 1 game. Tony Hawk 4. So I bought Simpsons Road Rage, Sonic Collection, The Suffering & The Cat in the Hat at a pawn shop. The Suffering is a dangerous game. Leave the lights on when you play this one. Demons and devils and bagpipe lookin' monsters jump from everywhere. The voices in the inemates' head are great. "Calm Down" "No, Fuck Him" But I have honestly become completly addicted to the Simspons and the Cat. Now the movie for the Cat was like a junior Gigli. Horrible. (Not as bad as Garfield though) But I have to admit, the game is cool. It's geared for kids, so it's colorful and loud and fun. But not so easy. It's getting harder and harder. (So what if I don't let the boys get a turn anymore?) If anyone's reading this, I'm dying to know how to get past the car in the garage level. We're stuck and going around in circles. Help would be appreciated. I'll make a trade. I'll give you Road Rage shortcuts in exchange. Now that game is fun. Especially after you unlock Otto & the schoolbus, or either of the snow plows. It's hard to get safe driving bonuses with them, but the Road Rage points go through the roof. So far, I've only earned like 4 million. I need 6 more. I figure if I keep up the pace I'm at now, I'll have it beat in a day or so, but I'll still be wondering in circles on the Cat. So that's what I've been doing for 2 days. Lord, please let the weather clear up so I get expose my vampiric skin and bloodshot eyes to some fresh air and real sun light!

The de-evolution of man

2005-05-04T12:41:00.000-04:00

I wasn't sure at first, but now it's become pretty clear that the human race is getting dumber. It's the little things that make the changes so evident. Why is it when the batteries in the remote control are dead, people either push the buttons really hard, or stretch their arm all way out to get closer to the TV? Do you see what I mean? Men and women are likening themselves to Neaderthals everyday and not even noticing. Okay, maybe that's a little too cruel, but we are definitely becoming decidedly un-civilized. The most disgusting display of this? I can tell you. Overweight men who wear t-shirts that hang just an inch or so above the waist of their jeans. Unfortunately, their hairy stomachs hang two or three inchs over the waistband of said jeans. Leaving a sight which is better not visualized, but I'm sure you know what I mean. Don't laugh yet, ladies. Because some of us are just as bad. A tip: if the sweater/blouse/t-shirt is so snug that you have to keep tugging it down every few seconds, then that means it is too small, and find something else to wear. If the bulges that show around your bra are bigger than the bulges in your bra, then, once again wear something baggier. I'm not trying to be mean. (Well.......) All I'm saying is that people don't care how they look or act anymore. I saw a woman in Giant Eagle wearing a faux fur coat, red sweat pants, a floral scarf on her head, and clogs on her bare feet. I'm assuming here that she doesn't own a mirror. In a nutshell people, even if you're only running to Walmart, take a look at yourself as you walk out the door.

My vegan-hippie-nudist-biker parents

2005-05-03T08:09:00.000-04:00

Let me start by saying I had a very normal and happy childhood. Seriously. We were close with a lot of aunts and uncles and cousins. We all got together on holidays & birthdays. We still get together and play Trivial Pursuit and have cook outs. Growing up, we were so the "Normal" family. Mom stayed home with us, and dad worked in a steel mill. (still does) We weren't perfect. We had money problems, I smoked too much pot, and my brother skipped a lot of school. But we were happy. We got along. When I reached high school, something happened to my parents. My mom went back to work, and my dad, since he got home form work at the same time we got home from school, became the 'home' parent. He cooked dinner and took care of the pets and stuff. However, at first, my any dinner my dad cooked was something he could throw into a deep fryer, or a variation of Hamburger Helper. He got better and started making these gourmet casseroles and fancy dishes. Now, my parents have always been bikers. To this day, my mother is still the only over 50, overweight female riding a NightHawk in our small town (A fact my friends never failed to remind me of). Anyway, the changes didn't become severe until my brother and I mover out on our own. First, they discovered a Nudist Colony. Now, my folks are both plus-sized people. But apparently they people that also go their are not the Hollywood version of nudists. So my brother and I lived with it. It was like...."Oh well, mom & dad are having a mid-life crisis. They'll get over it" Not a chance. 2 years ago, my brother shot his first deer. (Actually I think it was a just a Great Dane or something.....that thing was puny) I'd shot my first deer when I was 18, but I made sure not to brag to my 'sensitive' parents about it. Jim couldn't keep his big mouth shut about his, though. So my parents decided it was so wrong to kill animals to eat. Hence, instant vegetarians. Not only instant, but extreme, too. They got rid of every animal product in their house. Leather and all. (My father died a little on the day he turned over his well-loved leather jacket. But it found a good home.....with me!) Anyway, so now my parents have eschewed all variations of meat & eggs. They're so fanatical about it that they've started to lean toward the sun light some days. Not only that, but they also take great pleasure in telling everyone else what's in the food they eat. I really don't care how chickens are treated at the farm, I just know I want chicken nuggets, damn it. So that's their story. Normal meat loving people gone wrong. God save them.

Amanda and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad birthday

2005-05-03T07:52:00.000-04:00

I've held it in and it's time to rant and rave. Sunday was my birthday, the big 24. I know, nothing special to write home (or a blog) about, but still it's my birthday. Well, I'd made plans at the beginning of April to have my kids go the the grandparents Saturday night so hubby and I could go out to dinner and enjoy an evening of frolicking naked aorund the house. No such luck. We ended up taking a 2 hr drive to Akron on Saturday morning. For the first time in my life I was car sick. I mean completely miserable. We then spent a jolly six hours with hubby's brother. A man who, by the way, has the personality of soap. I could have spent the day hemming my curtains at home and been just as entertained. But, they hadn't seen each other in years, so I went along happily. On a good note, the boys were remarkably well behaved. Probably because I bribed them with a trip to the toy store and threatened them with cancellation of their sleepover. Well, to make a long story shorter (too late) we got home, my mom picked up the kids and hubby took a nap. Needless to say, we never made it to dinner that night. But I was still feeling pretty lousy, so we stayed home and watched a Star Wars marathon. With a promise from hubby that we'd go out to lunch the next day, I took my aching stomach to bed. Sunday: the big b-day. Picked up kids, got them home and we all got dressed. Since my favorite restaraunt is a bar/diner type place, I called to check their Sunday hours. A polite man who answered the phone cheerfully informed me they were not opened that day. (They've been remodeling) I slunk back into my sweat pants and played my Pokemon game. So, I persuaded hubby to make lunch, saying I shouldn't, couldn't and wouldn't cook on my birhtday. So he made lunch. Steak. Which happens to be his favorite food, and my least favorite. My birthday dinner consisted of leftover baked beans and those butter noodles from a pouch things. Still, I tried not to complain. I managed to not complain until a friend of ours stopped over. He's still in high school, and he's a real sweet kid. He usually plays D &D with us. When hubby and Joey asked me to run to the store with a list of soda and junk food they wanted, that's when I cracked. I was on the verge of asking them to sign an IOU that stated that on their respective birthdays they would be required to be in my services. So that was my day. No favorite meal at Margaret's, no monkey sex, no special treatment. Ah well, maybe next year.

Did You Know?

2005-04-28T12:49:00.000-04:00

*That you have more sweat glands in your hands & feet than anywhere else in your body
*That George Washington had to borrow money to get to his own inauguration
*It was illegal in Nazi Germany to name your horse 'Adolph'
*Queen bees only use their stingers to kill other queen bees
*The Roman emperor Nero married his male slave Scotus in a public ceremony
*There are an average of 50,000 earthquakes in the world every year
*One in ten truck drivers is a woman
*Playing cards in India are round
*Flies can get athlete's foot
*Eskimos have over 100 words for ice
*An ounce of gold can be drawn into a wire 500 miles long
*2.2 pounds of steak cost about $51 in Tokyo
*Mosqitoes prefer biting you if you've just eaten a banana
*Ulysses S. Grant was arrested during his term of office as President for speeding on his horse
*People in China don't eat cheese
*Kansas law prohibits catching fish with your bare hands
*Armadillos can walk under water
*If an orangutan belches at you he's warning you to stay out of his territory
*Americans spend $8 billion a year on pornography
*Attila the Hun was a dwarf/midget..(sorry..I mean a 'little person')
*If your body temperature was only 86 degrees, you could live to be 200
*96% of American children can recognize Ronald McDonald, but not George W. Bush
*A butterfly has as many as 12,000 eyes
*Snakes' ears on in their jaws

Never forget....the more useless information you have crammed in your head, the more excuses you can have for forgetting something important.

Napoleon Dynamite

2005-04-27T07:55:00.000-04:00

My cousin has a 15 year old daughter who thinks 'Napoleon Dynamite' is the best thing to ever come to the screen. She and her mother have watched it so much they started calling their dog 'Tina' and 'Fat Lard'. I'm sorry to all of you that think this is a cinematic gem....Napoleon was actually painful for me to watch. The 80's was my prime time. I remember carrying a TrapperKeeper, and pegging my jeans, and using a big pink Caboodle for my makeup and friendship bracelets, and wearing the weird hairstyle with big bangs and the rest of the hair all swept up and over to one side. I was never happier than when those fads died. Also, I can't imagine that when Napoleon gets the girl at the end, they actually go play tetherball together. I would have been at Pedro's partying with the cousins! In all fairness, Pedro was the best part of the movie. I actually do like the part when he decided to bake a cake to get the popular girl to go out with him. Okay, so I liked 10 minutes out of the entire movie. What scares me the most is that there are teens out there today who like this move a lot! Which means when they get older and go out into the real world to get jobs, some of them are going to end up in the movie industry. Which, naturally, means more movies of this same caliber. God save us all.

So lame.....

2005-04-22T15:42:00.000-04:00

Well, after I put it off and put it off, I finally saw "8 Mile" last night. I can safely say that is 2 hours of my life I will never get back. I kept getting dizzy because everytime a beat started or someone started to speak in lame rhymes, every person in the background started doing this head-bobbing thing. I lost no love when poor little 'B. Rabbitt' got beat up. Sure, he got jumped and kidney punched from the back, but what did skinny little white boy think was gonna happen??? There are exactly 2 Eminem songs I like. My big problem with him is that he thought.."I'm gonna be a big shot rapper and all the blacks will look up to me and have respect" Well, so sorry Marshall... but most of the people listening to your music are skinny little white boys just like you. Also, as for the big "Rap Battle" scene at the end.....personally I liked the white-boy rap from 'Scary Movie 3' better.

People and their big fat mouths on the Net

2005-04-21T16:17:00.000-04:00

I was playing a game today that had a chat room with it so you could talk while you played. Well, someone started cussing people out for no reason, and someone else told them to watch it, cause there were kids online, too. Well, the discussion went on and on from there, and I mentioned my kids liked to play online a lot. My boys are almost 5, and I'd mentioned that in this chat room. Well, some idiot got all pissy with me. Saying crap like...."I certainly hope that you moniter what they're doing and looking at" and yadda yadda yadda.
I told her no, as a matter of fact, when they get online I just tell them not to spill their bottle of Jack on the keyboard and to not burn the mousepad with their cigarettes. Some people are completely insane.

Confession

2005-04-19T11:21:00.000-04:00

I have a confession to make. You know those pieces of paper they glue over the top of salad dressing bottles that say 'Twist to Open'? I can never twist the damn thing open. I always have to get knife and cut it.