Monday, September 7, 2009

This is where I put the smack-down on my kids and teach them some kitchen etiquette

Kitchen Rules

If you wish to continue being provided with food and shelter, you will follow these rules:
1. If you use a: knife/ spoon/ fork/ bowl/ plate/ cup/ pan/ pot/ cooking vessel/ etc…you will place said item in the DISHWASHER

a) If the dishwasher is full, you will proceed to EMPTY the dishwasher
b) All items are to be THOROUGHLY RINSED before being placed in dishwasher
c) If you do not have time to empty the dishwasher because of either work or school or if item does not fit in dishwasher, you will WASH AND DRY the item and PUT IT AWAY

2. The sink will be keep FREE from all debris, including, but not limited to the following:

Food, paper, cans, bottles, cigarette butts, gum, toys, etc…

3. All food and drink will be consumed at the KITCHEN TABLE

a) All items will be removed from table after consumption is finished
b) All spills will be wiped up from table
c) See rules #1 and #2

4. Empty food containers will be placed in the TRASH CAN or RECYCLING BIN

a) If there is no trash can in the kitchen, WALK out to the corner and RETRIEVE one
b) Cans will be RINSED before being placed in recycling bin

5. If you cook food on the STOVE, you will clean up following these steps:

a) Put all leftover food in a container and cover it
b) Put covered leftovers in the fridge
c) Clean up all items used to cook; see #4, #1 and #3
d) Clean up all items used to eat; see #3 and #1
e) Clean the area where food was prepared and consumed; see #1, #2 and #3

6. If the trash can is FULL, you will do the following:

a) Put lid on trash can
b) Take trash can out to the back porch
c) If it’s Thursday, take trash can out to curb
d) Rule also applies to trash bags

***these rules do not apply to children under the age of 8
***all guests must follow these rules
***failure to follow these rules will result in loss of kitchen privileges

Friday, September 4, 2009

My Favorite Poem...Where Should I Get It Tattoo'd ??


The beauty of a woman
Is not in the clothes she wears,
The figure that she carries,
Or the way she combs her hair

The beauty of a woman
Must be seen from her eyes,
Because that is the doorway to her heart,
The place where love resides

The beauty of a woman
Is not a facial mole
But true beauty in a woman
Is reflected in her soul

It is the caring she lovingly gives,
The Passion that she shows
The beauty of a woman with passing years --
only grows and grows

Monday, August 24, 2009

Think Of Me While I'm Curled Up In A Corner In The Fetal Position On Wednesday


I am a nervous wreck. Owen starts the 1st grade on Wednesday. I will be putting him on the bus his first day. His first day at his new school in a new district; a school where he knows no one. The bus will take him the 9/10ths of a mile to school, where it will drop him off at the double doors.


This is where I start to panic.

How will he know where to go?
Will he get lost in the shuffle of all the other elementary school kids?
Will he take a wrong turn and end up in the girl’s restroom?
Will he walk up the steps and be totally lost among the 3rd and 4th graders?
Will he just stand there at the doors and cry?


If I think about it too much I get nauseous.

We went to open house tonight. This is the second time we have been in the school. We went last week for the new student orientation and we saw his new classroom. We walked in the school tonight, and Owen walked straight to his classroom.


We walked in the doors and turned right


…then we walked down the hall and turned left


…then we walked down another hall and turned right


…then we walked down another hall and turned left


…then we walked through the hallway going through all three 2nd grade classrooms


...then two 1st grade classrooms before finally coming to his classroom.


Excuse me whilst I vomit.

**wipes puke spew off chest**

I can’t even make myself feel better knowing that every other 1st grader will be new to this school too. I asked Owen if he wanted me to take him to school the first few days, and he said, “But I want to ride the bus!” And he led me to his classroom very confidently tonight.


He isn’t the least bit nervous, so why am I?

Sunday, August 23, 2009

I Am The Most Inconsiderate Mother Ever


Dear Valerie,


I guess I owe you an apology.


It was very selfish of me to (finally) hang curtains in the living room; but I am tired of the neighbors seeing me walk around the house in my bra and underwear every morning. It was also very selfish of me to rearrange the living room after I finished (finally) hanging said curtains. I just don’t know where my mind was when I did not ask your permission to do this, seeing as how by moving the TV, I would have to unplug the wireless internet for 5 whole minutes. I apologize for having the audacity to interrupt your YoVille game. I know you can’t stop playing that game for longer than a bathroom break, so I really overstepped my bounds by interrupting your internet service. I feel bad that, because I moved the wireless router and modem, you are not getting a fast enough connection out in the garage, where you spend your days and nights playing on YoVille. I’m sorry that I upset you so much that you had to storm into the house, scream (your veins were popping out of your neck) at the router and shake it to try to get more bars so you could get a faster connection. And I totally agree that you had every right to demand that Sophie let you see her brand new laptop to see how fast her connection was. How dare she refuse to tell you her password?


I guess I also need to apologize for buying Sophie a laptop for her birthday; I should have asked if it was okay with you first. You informed me that you hate your laptop (remember, the one you HAD to have?) and it’s a POS. Just so you know, Sophie’s was $200 CHEAPER than the one I bought you for your birthday this year. I know, I know…she still should not have a newer one than you.


I’m sorry, I will never be so inconsiderate of your feelings again.


Love,


Mommy Dearest

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

My Blog Is 100 Posts Old Today

Today is my 100th blog post (its about damn time! I've only been blogging since Feb. of 2008!). I have to admit, I still have no clue how to blog! I'm just now getting down the bloggy lingo (seriously, I had to look up 'snarky' on Urban Dictionary). I was trying to do a "100 Things About Me" post for today, but I got to #25 and got bored, so I scrapped it. While I was doing my evening blog-hopping, I decided I would snag something Piper posted today, since she posted it with the following disclaimer:

If you would like to snag this good stuff for a post of your own, please feel free. I snagged it from RealWorldMom.

So, since I couldn't come up with 100 things about me (damn, I'm boring!) I decided to answer these questions instead:




I am...A mommy, a daughter, a sister, a hair designer, a student, a sounding board, a friend.

I have... Hopes, dreams, gas at the most inopportune times.

I know...How to neatly mud drywall.

I think...My life is headed in the right direction for the first time in my life.

I don’t think...I will ever grow tired of watching re-runs of The Golden Girls.

I want...To marry Tim and live happily ever after.

I have...An addiction to Facebook. And texting.

I like...Having wonderful people in my life.

I dislike...My older kid’s actions.

I hate...The smell of Matrix Sleek Look hair products.

I dream...Some crazy shit!

I fear...That my kids will grow up to be like their dad.

I am annoyed...By the sound of people chewing.

I crave...Tim.

I usually...Sleep too late and go to work with wet hair and no make-up.

I search...For Owen and Ella’s shoes. Every. Single. Day.

I hide...From confrontation.

I wonder...If my kids will be dependent on me forever.

I just can’t help...Falling in love…with…you. (Yes, sing it!)

I regret...Not saving more money.

I love...My kids, my family, Tim, my job, school, and my life.

I can’t live without...My Blackberry!

I try...To be a good person, parent, and friend.

I enjoy...Eating. Way too much.

I don’t care...If my house is a mess. Or anything that has to do with politics. Or basketball.

I always...Lock doors, like in an OCD kind of way.

I never want to...Bury one of my children.

I rely on...My parents.

I believe...In only having one true love.

I dance...Only when shitfaced.

I sing...In the car.

I argue...With myself.

I write...When I have time, though I have trouble conveying my thoughts into words.

I win...Every time a client tells me how fabulous I am.

I lose...My train of thought a lot.

I wish...I could lose a bunch of weight. But, if I did that, then I would have a bunch of sagging nasty skin.

I listen...Very closely since I am damn near deaf in one ear.

I don’t understand…People who have medical/dental coverage and rotten teeth.

I’m scared of...Growing old alone. Or with 27 cats.

I forget...To pay the trash and water bill all the damn time.

I am happy...For the first time in my life.

For my 100th post, I also want to recognize my top 10 favorite blogs to read. Here they are, in no particular order:

The very 1st blog I ever read
This guy and his offspring ROCK!!!
Canada will never be the same
Mr. Lady's (tall) twin sister
ratfucksonofabitch!!!
Pee-your-pants funny!!!
Beautiful writing by a beautiful chic
Mullettville, watch out!
She's been known to drink ants
Random shots of chocolate
Go visit them and give them some love!

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Real Friends Don't Let Friends Get Homemade Tattoos From Other Friends, And Other Random Thoughts

Aparently, Dustyn doesn't have any REAL friends.....

Go here to read the full story of this tragedy.

*************************************************************************************

Softball season is finally over! For a while, I am sure she's not going to miss wearing this:
But I don't know if I am ready for her 8th grade school year to start, because I know I will be seeing her like this:
*************************************************************************************
One of my teenagers is in the kitchen doing the dishes. BY. HAND. I wonder what they did wrong, or how much money they want?
*************************************************************************************
Ella doesn't sleep at night. She's driving me crazy. She is not going to be fun next week when school starts!
*************************************************************************************
The kids and I went to see G-FORCE 3D last weekend. I did not see anything warranting that movie to be 3D. What a waste of money!!!
*************************************************************************************
I got a new book today and it is AWESOME!!! Its called Such a Pretty Fat by Jen Lancaster.
I can't wait to read her other books Bright Lights, Big Ass, Bitter is the New Black, and Pretty in Plaid.
*************************************************************************************
**UPDATE**
Sophie was doing the dishes. She doesn't get in trouble or ask for money. Should I call 911? I think she may be deathly ill!
*************************************************************************************
This is my 99th post! I'm working on my '100 things' post. Try to hold your enthusiasm!

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Responsibilities

I went to a viewing this past Tuesday. I went to pay my respects to my Aunt Connie. She wasn’t really my aunt; she was the ex-wife of one of my dad’s brothers. They divorced over 33 years ago, and had both remarried. I come from a very strict Catholic family; out of my dad’s 9 brothers and sisters, they were the only ones who ever divorced. All of my extended family lives in Indiana; we moved to Ohio when I was 11. My dad was transferred here for work. My Aunt Connie and her new husband were also transferred here with the same company. My cousin Lisa moved here to live with her mom and step-dad; her brother stayed in Indiana with their dad. Lisa and I are the same age. We went through 8 years of grade school together. We shared our high school graduation parties. She is little and blonde and beautiful and I have always been jealous of her. As adults, we rarely talk.

She and her mom were very close. It pained me to see the hurt and loss in her eyes at the funeral home. Her mom’s illness had come on very suddenly; she only lived for 7 weeks after her cancer diagnosis. Lisa and I hugged, and she kept telling me, “She looks so good. I can’t believe how good she looks!” I agreed with her that her mom did look very nice. She looked very peaceful. (I didn’t pay much attention to the outfit she was wearing, but it was later told to me that she and her husband were both wearing their wedding clothes. The very same wedding clothes they wore 30 years ago. It gives me goose bumps just to think about it.) Lisa said, “No seriously, you don’t understand. You have to look at this.” She took me to a photo album that was lying in front of a collage of memories of her mom. The pictures she showed me broke my heart. They were pictures of Lisa curled up in bed with her mom. They were facing each other and smiling. The love they have for each other was radiating from the pictures. These pictures were taken the last week of her mom’s life. She looked emaciated; nothing like the beautiful woman in the casket. I totally understood then what she meant.

I stood next to Lisa as she spoke with her mom’s co-workers and friends. My heart broke for Lisa even more when I overheard her tell people that her mom didn’t know she was going to die. Lisa explained that her mom told her step-dad that, if she was given a time limit, she didn’t want to know. They respected her wishes and didn’t tell her that the doctors sent her home to die; the chemotherapy wasn’t working and there was nothing more that could be done. She thought she was going in for chemotherapy on Monday. She didn’t live to see Monday; she died the Saturday before. Lisa said that the worst part of not telling her mom the truth was that there were so many things left unsaid. So many things she wanted to say to her, so many questions she wanted to ask. The sound of her saying that keeps echoing in my head.

I left the funeral home feeling uneasy. I could not stop thinking about my own mom. I love my mom dearly, but we are not close. I can’t imagine curling up in bed with my mom the way Lisa was with hers. That really bothers me. The only memory I have of any “special” time between my mom and I was during the summer when I was about 10 years old. It didn’t happen every night, but once a week or so I remember these times. My brothers and sister would all go to bed, and I would stay up with my mom until after the news and watch M*A*S*H with her. She would let me have a bottle of Pepsi and share potato chips out of a Tupperware container. I think of that every time M*A*S*H is on TV, or even mentioned. I think my mom still has that Tupperware container.

I can’t remember the last time my parents told me that they loved me. I can’t remember a time when we ever hugged, even as a child. I notice that I have a hard time showing affection to my own kids as they get older. I don’t want to continue on the same path and have my children write a similar blog post about me someday. I do spend a lot of time interacting with my kids, but I know that’s not enough.

My parent’s health is not the best. They are moving slower and slower. My mom has a pacemaker; they are both diabetic and have high blood pressure. I don’t even know how to broach the subject of their wishes with them. One time, I asked my mom why my dad was taking a certain medication, and her answer was, “Just keep your nose out of there. It’s none of your business.”

I think it should be my business. I am the oldest. I know that my siblings won’t be jumping in line to help out when the time comes to make decisions for our parents. I have no idea if they have a will, life insurance, burial plot preference or even in what state (Indiana or Ohio) they want to be laid to rest! Even if I did know what state, I still don’t know which cemetery.

Thinking about any of this makes me sick to my stomach, but what makes the sickest is that I don’t have that special bond with my mom.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Remembering My Past, Looking To My Future

Sympathetic Character –Alanis Morissette

I was afraid you'd hit me if I'd spoken up
I was afraid of your physical strength
I was afraid you'd hit below the belt
I was afraid of your sucker punch
I was afraid of your reducing me
I was afraid of your alcohol breath
I was afraid of your complete disregard for me
I was afraid of your temper
I was afraid of handles being flown off of
I was afraid of holes being punched into walls
I was afraid of your testosterone
I have as much rage as you have
I have as much pain as you do
I've lived as much hell as you have and
I've kept mine bubbling under for you
You were my best friend
You were my lover
You were my mentor
You were my brother
You were my partner
You were my teacher
You were my very own sympathetic character
I was afraid of verbal daggers
I was afraid of the calm before the storm
I was afraid for my own bones
I was afraid of your seduction
I was afraid of your coercion
I was afraid of your rejection
I was afraid of your intimidation
I was afraid of your punishment
I was afraid of your icy silences
I was afraid of your volume
I was afraid of your manipulation
I was afraid of your explosions
I have as much rage as you have
I have as much pain as you do
I've lived as much hell as you have and
I've kept mine bubbling under for you
You were my keeper
You were my anchor
You were my family
You were my savior
and therein lay the issue
and therein lay the problem

While there are some lines that didn't apply to me, the majority of this song was my life for close to 11 years. I know that I've told you some of my past with Ex#1, but I'm not sure exactly how much I've told you, or how much you even want to know.

I was only 17 when I met him; he was 26. I met him through a friend, and I was never really attracted to him. I had only had maybe 3 dates before I met him. I was at a point where I believed that I was ugly, and that no boys would ever want to date me. Looking back, it's amazing the things that I worried about as a teenager. I didn't hang around with the most appropriate people when I was in school either. When we moved to Ohio from Indiana, I ended up in 2 different schools where the kids had been together since Kindergarten. I was a social outcast. Ex#1 was the first guy who paid attention to me. I was naïve, and I fell for it. He was not drinking at the time we started dating. I had no idea about his past arrests (trafficing in marijuana, breaking and entering, DUI's and receiving stolen property). I hid it from my parents that I was seeing him.

Then I got pregnant. He started drinking again a few months before Dustyn was born. I was very ignorant to it all. I come from a family with 27 collective aunts and uncles, only 2 sets were ever divorced. They rarely ever drank, so I had no clue of the consequences his drinking could have. At any rate, I went with the flow of it all, and I thought I was happy. I worked in a low budget salon, and had low budget clients. I seemed to fit in for the first time since I moved to Ohio. Then I changed to a nicer salon. The staff was more middle class, and so were the clients. I wanted to fit in with them. When I started hanging out with the girls I worked with, things started to change. I got my driver's license to (I was 22). With that, I had more freedom than Ex#1 liked. I didn't have to depend on him to take me everywhere. I still could not come and go as I pleased though.

The abuse started slowly...at first, I didn’t even realize that the things he was saying and doing were abusive. He would say something mean, I would cry, he would apologize a few days later and I believed him. When I left that job and started a new one, things took a turn for the worse. He would take me to work every day so he didn't have to worry about me leaving, and if I did drive, he would time how long it took me to get home. He didn't want me going anywhere or doing anything with anyone. Every time we went to a hair show he would go nuts.

I started lying about the bruises. He was also sexually abusive, which I didn't realize until years later. Everyone knew what was going on. My boss went so far as to give me the number for Project Woman because they were so worried. I started bucking him. He wanted me to quit my job. He DEMANDED that I quit my job. I left him. I had left him before, but he had always manipulated me, or threatened me, into coming back. That job was more important to me than he was. He had me convinced that I could not make it without him, which for me to believe was stupid on my part. It took me 11 long years to leave and stay gone.

One major event that let to me leaving was the night he had me backed into a corner screaming at me. He was drunk, so drunk that he fell down the steps. There was a hammer lying on the kitchen table and I was trying to will myself to pick it up and hit him with it. All I could think about was that my kids would grow up without me because I would be in prison. It never dawned on me that the same scenario was possible by him killing me. He tried to choke me that night. All this happened in front of my kids. They screamed so much that he finally stopped. I dialed 911 and he took the phone from me. I knew they would come anyway, so I went to the living room and stood in front of the window so they could see me. He came down and had a hold of my arm when they pulled in. They saw it. He went to jail and I testified in front of the grand jury. They wanted to know what the argument was about, so I told them the truth, he was mad because I would not got get him Taco Bell (it was 2am). They chose not to indict him, which dropped the charges against him.

I was frantic.

He wouldn't leave the house, and he wouldn’t let me go. I had been getting my ducks in a row with child care and some other things so I could just run when I had the opportunity. One day, I decided to just turn it over to God. A week later I came home from church, he was in a drunken induced sleep, and I told the kids to grab what they wanted so we could leave. It took the 10 minutes to stuff a few trash bags full of toys while I filled laundry baskets with our clothes. We took what we could fit in the car and we went to my parents. He was LIVID. He just could not understand what he ever did wrong. I went back with a police escort a few weeks later to get more of our stuff, and they ended up taking him to jail for threatening me (when we arived, the police could see the hole he had punched in the living room wall...it went all the way through the kitchen), so I was able to get the rest of our things.

I finally had the strength I needed, and I never went back. I was happy for the first time in my life. I had a nice place and I had friends and the kids and I were making it. What I never did gain was self esteem, which is probably why I ended up with douche bag #2. I don’t know why I let myself get into that mess, but I got these beautiful kids out of it, so it wasn’t all for not.

I have PTSD from the abuse. I have a lot of triggers. The smell of beer makes me sick to my stomach. Driving past our old house makes me tense up. Sophie's coach sets off a lot of my old behaviors. The way Dustyn walks, talks, yells, gives dirty looks, etc. all make me shiver. I know it is the reason we butt heads, I also know it's the reason I give in to him when I shouldn't (I have a feeling he knows this too).

Over the years, the nightmares have stopped. I have been so fortunate in my current relationship that he has never done anything remotely like what my ex's have done. I have also learned from my past to be more sensitive to what abuse others have endured. This is one of the reasons I have considered Domestic Violence prevention as a concentration for my Social Work degree. I think there is a need for education at a middle school and high school level on the warning signs of domestic violence.

Recently, I made the decision to agree with Sophie and look for a new ball team. It has taken me almost 3 years to realize that her coach intimidates me the same way Ex#1 did. It is not healthy for me, and it is not healthy for Sophie to see everyone bow down to him, and to expect her to bow down to him. He asked me for a commitment for her to the team a few weeks ago, and I told him that I hoped to move out of town by next summer, so I could not commit. I know he is going to ask me again the next time he gets his hair cut, and I am going to tell him the same thing. I am also going to tell him that Sophie will not be able to play fall ball for him in September because it will interfere with the only day we have to spend together as a family. I know that I am taking the coward’s way out, but I HATE confrontation, and I know it will cause one if I told him that we don’t want him as a coach anymore. She is going to try out for a team in the area where Tim lives in a few weeks, and we are searching for a few more try out dates for teams in that general area. I will admit to you though, I have told more than one person (ok, so I tell everyone that will listen) that I do not want to live in Springfield by next summer.

I have my heart invested in my new relationship with Tim. We are building a very strong bond. I want us to be happy. I want us to be forever. One day, we were at the mall, sitting on a couch talking, and he asked me why I've never been married. I told him that I had been asked (and threatened at some points) but I would never do it because I knew that I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with the men who asked. I know it was irresponsible of me to have kids with men I knew I didn’t want to be with, but at the time I didn’t think about what it would do to them in the future. Tim is the FIRST and ONLY person I have ever been able to envision growing old with. I can't imagine my life without him. If you want to know the truth, I have our entire wedding all planned out in my head. That is something I have never before even contemplated.

A girl can dream, can't she?

Sunday, July 19, 2009

You Tube Weirdness




How weird is it when you check out a roller coaster video on You Tube, and you realize that the girl in the video is your teenage daughter?


This video is of my daughter Valerie, my ex (Owen and Ella's sperm donor) and his 2 younger sisters on the Firehawk ride at King's Island in Mason, Ohio.


I wonder how many other You Tube clips of my kids are out there that I have no clue about?


How Can You Look Into My Eye And Say You Don't Remember Me???


My freshman year of high school was very scary for me. I had gone to parochial schools for my entire life...uniform skirts, white blouses, Nuns, the whole shebang! I would be starting my freshman year at a public school. I only knew about 8 people who were going to be in my class; most of them lived in my neighborhood. And by 'neighborhood' I mean within a mile radius of my house...we lived in the middle of nowhere. All but about 2 of these people were only my 'summer friends' ...you know the type, they are your best friend all summer, but they snub you at school because you're that weird Catholic kid...*I've worked very hard on letting that go!*


Anyway...


The high school I went to is a very small county school; about 130 kids in my freshman class. The elementary, middle, and high school were set up like a campus. The majority of these kids had gone to school together since KINDERGARTEN!!! I was definitely an outsider. To make matters worse...I had been wearing a uniform for 8 years...I have always rocked a plus-size body, and I had NO idea how to dress stylish!


So...


The year was going along, and me and my black Payless high-tops were adjusting (just to set the record straight, this was 1985, Payless was NOT cool. It wasn't until my Sophomore year that I got my coveted high-top Reeboks!). I had made a few new friends, I liked my classes and I was fairly happy. About 1/2 way through the year, a new guy started at my school. For the sake of this post, I'll call him 'Bruce'. Bruce was in my study hall. He was a really nice guy. I was not attracted to him, nor did I ever have a crush on him (I never thought he was very good looking...'cause I'm a freakin' beauty queen ya know!). We had a horrible habit of passing notes to each other in study hall (remember, it was 1985...texting was not invented yet!). We never got caught, mainly because I don't think the teacher gave a rat's ass what we were doing as long as we were quiet. At any rate...every day for 1/2 the school year we wrote back and forth with other.


Fast forward to June 23, 2009...


Facebook. I loves me some Facebook! I have re-connected with soooo many people that I haven't seen, or even thought about, in years. I thought to myself one day last month, 'I wonder if Bruce has a profile on Facebook?' So, I did a search and I found him. The following is our email communication on Facebook:


Me: Did you go to *ruralcountyschool ?

Bruce: Yes, I did.

Me: Wow! You look the same...how have you been? It's been years!

Bruce: Yes it has been a long time. I'm having trouble remembering you. Help me!!

Me: I can't remember if it was 9th or 10th grade...we had study hall together...there was a lot of note-passing involved...A LOT of note passing!!! Oh, and I think my hair was blonde then! lol

Bruce: do you have any pictures from back then? You with blonde hair?

Me: No, not on my computer. You have no clue who I am, do you? lol

Bruce: I can't tell by the pic you have on here.

Me: We had study hall together in one of the classrooms, not the cafeteria, and we passed notes back and forth every day. I feel so unremembered! lol j/k

Bruce: what were our notes about? Did you live close to the mall?

Me: I lived on *Big Hilly Road outside of *Speedtraptown. The notes? I really don't remember! lol I just know we wrote them a lot

Bruce: you need to post a different picture

Me: lol...dont you know how to look thru the albums? I have more on here

Bruce: i tried that the other day and it would not show your pics

Me: ok i changed it.

Bruce: now I can't see anything

Me: hmmmm...weird! i can see it on my homepage but not in the emails.

Bruce: I can see it now

Me: Still no clue? LoL

Bruce:


Yes, that last one was left blank on purpose. He never answered me. How do you not remember your friend from high school? The girl in study hall that you passed notes back and forth with


EVERY


SINGLE


DAY


I am trying very hard not to revert back to that place where I was long ago...feeling faceless and unimportant. It also makes me question how many other friends of mine on Facebook have no clue who the hell I am???


I feel so unremembered...and I am NOT j/k!

Saturday, July 18, 2009

The Rainbow That Leads To My Pot-O-Gold


So, I have this StatCounter thing. I read about other bloggers knowing where their blog traffic comes from and how people find them and what-not, so I decided I needed to have one too.

I have not the slightest clue how to use it...

I was reading one of my favorite blogs the other day, I'm Living Proof That God Has A Sense Of Humor, and was damn near peeing myself over this post (I meant that in the most endearing way, even though I damn near pee myself every time I move!). Helene listed some of her Google search keywords and phrases that led people to her blog, so I thought it might be fun to check out my keyword searches.

Here we go...

1) Hairy Coochie
Ummm....not sure why this was my top search keyword? One has to wonder what exactly this person was trying to gather information on...the pros/cons of sporting a hairy coochie? I can understand why someone would run across some certain Redneck blog when searching for a BLUE HAIRY COOCHIE, but I have never blogged in reference to my nether-regions!

2)Blackberry sand in my rollerball
This sounds like a personal problem!

3)Bobblehead + Guy Fieri
One word...WHY???

4)Karmasutra dust
I have an 18 year old son who can tell you all you need to know about this subject **shudder**

5)Ketchup pedicure
Again...Ummmmm...All I can think of is EWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!

6)Can Pantene conditioner in your vagina cause a miscarriage
Wow. I can't imagine why anyone would search for this? I know that I bought like 73 bottles of store brand shampoo and conditioner, some being Pantene, but the words 'vagina' and 'miscarriage' were not mentioned in that post. I just have one question...Why the hell, pregnant or not, would anyone put conditioner in their vagina? KY Jelly makes a great lube, so I've heard!

7)OCD psychology magical thinking
Owen is OCD. No amount of 'magical thinking' is going to change that.

8)BLINK YOUR EYES CONSTANTLY
MAYBE IF YOUR EYES STOP BLINKING YOU'LL STOP YELLING!

9)Think, blink, duh
Duh! Why did you even need to search this?

10)Peoples rotten teeth
Yea, this is something I really want to see more of, 'cause I just don't see enough of it in this lovely town in which I live...

11)Humpfh mean
This was obviously one of MY little kids!

12)Funny description of busy old lady
I think the answer to this would be best found by watching re-runs of the Golden Girls.

13)I'm too busy for a teenager
Well isn't that just too damn bad?! What magic answer did they think they would find for this problem? The best advice I could give them would be BOOT CAMP!

I think I'm going to have to check out my StatCounter a little more often!

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Sometimes, I Think It Would Be Easier If Ella CRIED At The Densist!

While I was picking the corn-on-the-cob out from between Ella's teeth after dinner, I thought to myself:

"Hey! I should post that video of Ella at the dentist on my blog!"

So, here it is:


And here's another one!



* These were my first youtube uploads EVER!

Monday, July 6, 2009

31,536,00 Seconds


It has been…


1 year.
12 months.
52 weeks.
365 days.
8,760 hours.
525,600 minutes.
31,536,000 seconds.


…since I first laid eyes on you. Since my heart first flip-flopped. Since you first asked to hold my hand. Since you first asked if it was okay to kiss me. Since I first knew what it was like to enjoy a kiss. Since the staff at Applebee’s gathered outside as we tried to say good-bye, but couldn’t stop kissing. Since we decided we wanted to invest our time and hearts in a relationship. Since I drove home in a daze. Since my thoughts became entangled with visions of you.

you


…you are amazing. You are a dream come true. You are so sweet…and kindhearted…and caring…and patient…So strong, yet so gentlePassionate and compassionate…Your embrace makes me feel so safe. My favorite place to be is snuggled up to your chest, listening to the sound of your heartbeat.


…I respect you…I cherish you…I value every second that we spend together…I admire you…I care for you…For the first time in my life; I understand what it means to fall in love.


…and it all began 1 year ago…


…and I hope it never ends…

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Ella Is Staring In A New Television Reality Series Called: TOTAL. DRAMA. PRE-SCHOOL.



*editor's note: you must look at this picture sideways...as with everything else, Ella wouldn't co-operate in her picture either! No matter what I did, the picture wouldn't rotate!

Episode 1:



“Mommy! I hate my pre-school, and I don’t want to go anymore!”
“Why don’t you want to go to pre-school anymore, Ella?”
“Because when I want to play some-ping, Arianna always bees the boss of everybody!”
“What do you want to play?”
“Grrrrr….I don’t want Arianna to be the boss!”
“So, you want to be the boss?”
“Arianna always bees the boss and I goed there FIRST!”



Episode 2:



“Mommy! Arianna’s not my best friend anymore!”
“Why not, Ella?”
“Because she bees mean to me!”
“What did she do?”
She won’t let me be the cooker in the kitchen center, and I wanted to be the cooker!”
“Ella, you have to take turns when you play.”
“I DO take turns! But I wanted to be the cooker first and she always tells me she wants to be the cooker first!


Episode 3:



“I hate pre-school!”
“Why do you hate pre-school now, Ella?”
“Because Miss Cindy makes me take a nap when I’m not even tired!”
“Why don’t you just lay there like a good little girl and watch the movie at naptime?”
“I do watch the movie! Miss Cindy always bees telling us that we have to close our eyes, and when I close my eyes I fall to sleep!”
“Ella, if you fall asleep when you close your eyes, then you are tired.”
Grrrrrr!”


Episode 4:



“I hate when people call me Ella-Belle!”
“That’s your nick-name. Mommy started calling you that when you were a baby.”
“Well I hate it and I want a new nick-name!”
“What do you want your new nick-name to be, Ella?”
“I choose…….Dog Biscuit!”
“Dog Biscuit?”
“Yes! My name is Ella Julianna Dog Biscuit.”
“Oooooookaaaaay then!”

Monday, May 25, 2009

So Much For Proving I Was Paying Attention In My Racial/Cultural Minorities Class!

Tim and I took the 4 little kids to Chuck E. Cheese and the park today. The park we went to wasn't a playground-type park, it was an arboretum. We walked around the trails and looked at the wonders of nature on this perfectly beautiful day.

After about an hour of being at the arboretum, Ella decided she was going to pee her pants if we did not find a bathroom soon. We all traipsed back to one of the buildings which housed a restroom so that Ella didn't tinkle down her leg.

We exited the building on the opposite end in which we entered. We saw a beautiful pond in front of us when we opened the doors and walked outside. Ella said,

"Are we in China?"

I thought Ella was confused because we had come out in a different area of the park. I said,

"No, Ella, we're not in China!"

Now, when I said this, I was not exactly whispering. Ella was quite a ways ahead of me, so I needed to speak louder than a normal talking level for her to hear me. No sooner had these words rolled from my tongue did I see an Asian family standing to my right.

That bright red color in my cheeks? No, that was not a sunburn. I wanted to run back into the restroom!

I can't wait to tell this one to my Racial/Cultural Minorities class!

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Jealous Much?

My supersweetandsexy boyfriend Tim and I went to see Jay Leno perform in Wilmington on Sunday night. Wilmington was one of the stops on Jay's "Comedy Stimulus Tour". This was the first chance we have had to go on an adult date in close to 2 months! We have spent every-other weekend together, centered around our kids. We always have a great time when we are all together as a family, but it was nice to spend some time one-on-one.

Tim is just so amazingly wonderful! He makes me feel all giddy...like a teenager again. We held hands as we walked through the parking lot up to the event center. As we sat and watched Jay perform, Tim had his arm around me and I continued to hold his hand. Every so often, our eyes would meet, and he would softly kiss me on the forehead. I love it when he kisses me on the forehead!

We had such a nice evening; just 2 people in love:)

Then today, when we were doing our weekly stalking of our ex's MySpace pages, we discovered this:

StupidBitchExWife*
Female
38 years old
Wilmington, Ohio
United States

Last Login: 5/12/2009

Christy Jay Leno was speechless during his Wilmington show when an almost middle-aged couple were going at it (XXX PDA) like a couple of horndogs!!!

Mood: EEEEWWWWW!!!!

First of all, let me just clarify that we are NOT almost middle-aged. And HELLO! StupidBitchExWife*-you are older than both of us!

XXX PDA? HORNDOGS? Seriously?

We were HOLDING HANDS; he kissed me on the FOREHEAD...

It's a wonder no one took the garden hose to us!

*Name has been changed to be more suitible!

Monday, May 4, 2009

Owen Has Us ALL Floored!

My kids get to drive me freakin insane and demolish the house out of school on June 9th. The kids have been through a lot of changes this year. Owen started Kindergarten, he was diagnosed with OCD and SPD, we moved into a new house, and visits with the Sperm Donor decreased (I guess decreased isn’t the correct word…we split over a year ago, and he doesn’t show much interest in being the SuperDad he always portrayed himself to be).

The one thing that has kept some stability in Owen’s life is that he didn’t have to switch schools mid-year not that our superintendent didn’t prove he suffers from “SHORT MAN SYNDROME” by trying everything he could think of to keep Owen from being open-enrolled, but I digress and have to enroll in a half-day program. This school year has gone quite well for Owen. He has a wonderful teacher, and has finally learned to make friends.

The form of discipline used in our Kindergarten class is the dreaded ‘moving your star’. Because of Owen’s OCD, he is a stickler for following rules. He doesn’t stand on the bus, he doesn’t talk in line, he doesn’t cut in line, he doesn’t trade his snacks at lunch, and he always does what the teacher tells him to do. He is the only one in his class that has gone this entire school year without being told to move his star.

Until last Wednesday, that is!

Owen came home from school Wednesday and, as always, I asked him if he had a good day. He said,

“NO! Meanie* was pushing me and hitting me and I told him to stop and he wouldn’t so I started hitting him and the music teacher saw me and she told Miss Murphy and I had to move my star! HUMPFH!”

My jaw was on the floor. I don’t know if I was more shocked the he had to move his star, or that he told me about it. I decided not to worry about it too much. I told him that next time someone hits him; he needs to tell his teacher. He promised me he would.

He lied.

On Thursday when Owen came home from school, I asked him if he had a good day. He said,

“NO! Brat Boy* was cutting me in line and I told him not to do it and he kept cutting me and pushing me so I started hitting him and Miss Murphy made me move my star and I lost 5 minutes of recess! HUMPFH!”

I told him that I hoped this was not going to be an everyday occurrence. I had to give the kid credit for telling me that he had to move his star, and why he had to do it. I emailed his teacher and told her that I hope this was just because he was getting re-adjusted from spring break---Owen does not do well with change.

The kids and I had a great weekend. Sophie’s team came in 2nd place in their softball tournament, and Owen and Ella played a very entertaining game that thank God only lasted 1 hour! of T-ball. When I took Owen to latch-key this morning, I was a little proud dumbfounded, shocked, and taken aback when his teacher asked me if I heard about what happened when Owen got off the bus.

Owen beat the crap out of a kid!

When Owen came home from school tonight, I asked him if he forgot to tell me about what happened at latch-key. He said,

Bully* keeped telling me to stand by the wall and I was and he said I wasn’t so he keeped on pushing me so I kicked him and he kicked me back so I punched him in the eye and his glasses falled on the ground! HUMPFH!”

So, I’m trying not to laugh as Owen demonstrates how he slugged this kid in the eye. Dustyn and Sophie were in total awe of him. Dustyn tells Owen to ‘give me 5’ for sticking up for himself. Normally I would not condone one of my kids using violence to solve their problems, but I think this situation is a little different. Here’s the reason: This boy, Bully*, is not Owen’s age. He is in either the 3rd or 4th grade! He is close to a foot taller than Owen! I don’t want this kid picking on my baby! Owen says this boy is mean and picks on him every day. The latch-key teacher, who also happens to be The Lunch Lady, told me that she has to remind Bully* every day that he can’t pick on the younger kids.

Except today. Maybe Bully* learned his lesson? Every person has a breaking point; I guess Owen has reached him!

*the names have been changed, obviously. who would name their kids Meanie, Brat Boy, and Bully???

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Sux To Be A Legal Adult, Huh Dustyn?



I have always been a very open-minded and lenient mom, especially to Dustyn and Valerie. This is probably why they are the belligerent, lazy, money bumming bums that they are. But I digress...

On Dustyn's 16th birthday, I took him to get his first tattoo. I had a few rules, guidelines if you will, about where he could choose to embed said tattoo, and what it could NOT consist of:

1. Nothing above the shoulders

2. Nothing below the elbows on the arms

3. No drug references

4. No names

On this same trip, I offered to pay for a tongue piercing. I also had a list of guidelines about piercings:

1. No facial piercings

2. No gauging ears

3. No telling mom if you decide to pierce your genitalia

The nice thing about him being a minor was that I had to sign for his tattoo. He decided on a tattoo of the Grim Reaper on his right bicep. Who am I to judge? I have a Power Puff Girls tramp stamp.

But this post isn't about Dustyn's first tattoo. This post is about how many of my guidelines my sweet baby boy has chosen to ignore.

I don't have a problem with his tongue piercing. I do, however, have a problem with the snake bites he decided to inflict on himself (as shown in above pic). Did you know, when you remove a facial piercing for a few days, you can actually squeeze shit out of it like a zit? Yummy!

Then he decided to gauge his earlobe. All his friends were doing it, and yes, he probably would jump off a bridge...He had it stretched to the point that he could stick his pinky finger through his earlobe, and he walked around with a chap-stick lid in it for God only knows what reason. He has sense taken out the gauge. Now, he has what resembles a cat's behind on his earlobe. Sexy.

Yesterday, Dustyn woke up and called for me to come to his room. I found him sitting on his bed, crying like a baby. He held out his arm and said,

"I don't know why I did it."

There, tattooed on the top of his forearm was the word 'Norton', his last name. The dumb ass let some random friend with a tattoo gun give him ink. I think said random friend was either very nervous or suffers from Parkinson's because it is the wiggliest thing I have ever seen. It looks like Owen took a fine-tipped Sharpie and wrote his name. And the 'O's' look like doughnuts!

"Do you think I could scrub it off with an S.O.S. pad?"

I have an idea! Why don't we try that just for shits and giggles? Seriously, Dustyn, no we can't use and S.O.S. pad to scrub it off! But, being the nice mom that I am, I will foot the bill to have the ugly-ass thing fixed. This 1 tattoo broke 2 of my guidelines: 2. Nothing below the elbows 4. No names

So, a word of advice Dustyn: The next time you HAVE TO HAVE A TATTOO, ask your super-cool momma...and maybe you won't wake up in tears.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Wow, Payton...

Valerie and Sophie have these two adorable dogs:

Princess Payton (after Peyton Manning...Valerie's a HUGE Colts fan)

Sammy (he was named when Sophie got him...too bad my boyfriend's daughter has the same name!)

Sammy and Payton got their groove on, and had 3 adorable puppies


Brownie the puppy...Owen and Ella were so upset with me for letting Valerie sell all the puppies.

After the birth of the puppies, I decided to have Sammy neutered. Valerie did not like seeing Payton looking like a pygmy goat with her ginormous belly...and I was sick of Owen and Ella running around the house saying, "Mommy! Sammy and Payton have their butts stuck together again!" Sammy is, well, WAS a stud-muffin.

So, the puppies were born on December 23; Sammy was de-nutted in January. Now, all is safe on the puppy mill front.

But, alas, someone forgot to tell Sammy he was now a dud.

Sammy and Payton were running around the house this evening. I glanced over just as Sammy was trying to mount poor innocent Payton. I yelled at Sammy,

"Dude! What the hell are you thinking? You can't do that; you have no nuts!"

Sammy hung his head in shame as he dismounted Payton. He just stood there, embarrassed. And what does Payton do?

She stuck her head between his back legs! She was checking to see if his nuts were actually gone!

Seriously...Payton is a tramp!!!

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Ella Julianna, Princess

April 14, 2004.
It seems like yesterday. I was dreading the thought of going to work. Little did I know I would be working harder than had ever worked before! Five years ago today, I have birth to this little princess:


Seeing as how she was the 5th in line, I assumed she would just walk on out with out much effort on my part. You know what they say about ass-uming! My sweet little baby girl decided she would try making her way through the birth canal facing up. Lucky for me my sweet baby girl was also impatient, so she managed to turn herself rather quickly and slide right on into the world.

Her name is Ella Julianna.

We have called her Ella-Belle since the day she was born. I even had Ella-Belle printed on her t-ball t-shirt. She informed me on the way home from t-ball sign ups that she HATES when people call her Ella-Belle.

*sigh*

My sweet baby is growing up. She is registered for Kindergarten! My sweet baby also has a mind of her own. She knows what she wants, and she usually wants it NOW! She makes disgusting noises out of every orafice of her body. She lives in her own world. She is her own person, and I wouldn't have her any other way!





HAPPY BIRTHDAY ELLA-BELLE!!! I love your burpin', fartin', beautiful self!



Friday, April 3, 2009

Hug Your Children Tonight!!!

I have 5 beautiful nieces and nephews. Of those 5, the oldest boy and the youngest boy and girl were adopted by my brother and sister-in-law. They were not adopted as infants, nor were they adopted internationally. My brother and sister-in-law adopted children that were in foster care. They had 2 beautiful daughters of their own, but they longed for a son. My brother and SIL decided that the only way to ensure having a son would be to adopt one. Matt came into our lives 5 years ago, at the age of 7. He is the sweetest boy, and the perfect addition to our family! Even though they had their son, they decided to open their home and hearts to more children. A couple years later, Haidyn and Dillon found their way into our lives. They are natural siblings, who just happened to be the same ages as my Owen and Ella. Even though they have some behavior and developmental issues, they are a perfect fit within our happy family.

My SIL's parents recently decided to become foster parents. This is the reason for my post. My SIL's parents got a call for an emergency placement this evening. They were told to go to the local hospital where the children been sent by their pediatrician. My SIL called me tonight to ask me if I had heard about these children on the news.

My heart ached when she said this to me. I had read about these children in the newspaper. I even read the police report; it sickened me. I just do not understand how a mother can be so heartless and uncaring. I do not understand how a mother could allow ANYONE to harm her children. I do not understand how this "mother" can look at herself in the mirror.



The only thing these children have is the clothes on their back, and each other. Their bodies are beaten and bruised, but they are SAFE now.

If anyone has extra clothing that they would be willing to donate to these children, please contact me. The little boy is in need of size 5-6, and the little girl needs size 3-4. Any items would be greatly appreciated!

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Why No, Little Old Lady Who Doesn't Know How To Whisper, It's Not French!

Sophie and I went to a funeral today. We went to pay respects to Sophie's Great-Grandma, her father's Grandmother, the woman she was named after (Mary Sophie Ridgway).

I need to give you a little background information on Dustyn, Valerie, and Sophie's father and his family. Can you say DIS-FUNC-TION-AL?

Keith, their father, was born in 1962, when his mother was 15 years old. Even though his mother, Pam, married his 21 year old father, Ray, Keith was not a welcome addition. He was, in his younger years, raised by his grandparents, Mary and Lamar. Pam and Ray had another son, Todd, when Keith was 5; Todd was loved by his mother. When Keith was 15, Pam and Ray divorced. By this time, Pam was ready to live her life, so to speak, so the boys remained living with their father. This is when Keith's downward spiral into drug and alcohol abuse began. Ray allowed his son's to drink; encouraged it, if you will. Keith never went to visit with his mother after the divorce. He always considered Mary to be more of a mother to him than Pam ever was.

(I won't include all the details of the years Keith and I spent together-that is a blog post all it's own. By 2008, we had been apart for 7 years. By this time, I had worked through MY anger and forgiven him for what he did to ME. What he did, and continues to do to my kids is inexcusable.)

Fast forward to February 2008. Lamar passed away. The kids and I had not seen him in years. He was never very friendly when we did see him. I read his obituary in the newspaper. At this time, the kids and I had not heard from their dad in almost a year. I knew that he had been arrested for living in a vacant house and was on probation. I knew that Pam would never try to track him down, and he had a right to know that the man who raised him was gone. I called the probation department and was put in touch with his probation officer. I explained the situation to him, and told him that I knew he couldn't give me his contact information, but I would appreciate it if he would pass along the news. About 45 minutes later, Keith called me at work. I offered to take him to the viewing and funeral since he doesn't drive. He was 45 days sober at his grandfather's funeral.

We all walked into the funeral home together. Mary was sitting in a chair next to her daughter-in-law. The DIL was telling Mary who each person was as they walked up to her. It was obvious that she had Alzheimer's. I reintroduced each of the kids to her, and told her that Sophie was named after her. I believe I saw a hamster wheel in her head start to turn because she had no clue her name was Sophie! But when she saw Keith walk in the door, she jumped up and hugged him. She knew exactly who he was. She spent the rest of the service asking people if Keith had a ride, would someone make sure he had a ride? Pam hugged all over my kids and said she couldn't believe how big they were (kids do tend to grow in 11 years!) After the service I gave Pam every phone number we have so she would be able to get ahold of us if something happened to Mary. She thanked me for that.

I read Mary's obituary in the online newspaper on Monday. She died on Saturday. Such a close knit family my kids have! It was easier to get ahold of Keith this time as I had saved the last number he had called me from. Again, I offered to take him to the funeral. He is no longer working on his sobriety.

Dustyn and Valerie refused to go to the funeral. Dustyn said he didn't want to see his dad. Valerie said she wasn't going if Dustyn wasn't going. I told them this was about showing respect for their great-grandma, Obviously my teenagers have no respect. I can't image why? Sophie was fine with going, this was the woman she got her super-cool name from after all!

Sophie turned 4 about a week before we left her dad. She doesn't remember living with him. She would spend the weekend with him until I realized that it just wasn't safe for her to be there with his friends in and out all the time. She hasn't seen him much in the last 3 or 4 years. When she has seen him, he has not spoken to her. Not. One. Word. She says it doesn't bother her, but I know it does. When we picked up Keith for the funeral, Sophie climbed in the back seat. He got in next to me and started making small talk. He glanced in the back for a second and then he said, "Hey Valerie! How ya doin'?"

What the fuck did he just say??? He seriously thought she was Valerie. Sophie is 12...Valerie is 17. Sophie is my twin...I could probably disown Valerie (tall skinny bitch!) The look on Sophie's face was like she had been slapped. I said, " That's not Valerie." He looked at her again and said, "It's not? Wow, they look so much alike. Sorry, Sophie."

Just exactly what the fuck was I thinking when I was 17???

So we go to the viewing, and of coarse Pam sees us and says, "I lost your number, I couldn't find it anywhere!" Sophie said, "That's OK, my mom is obsessed with reading the obituaries." *Love ya baby girl*

So now for a *giggle giggle*

There were 2 little old ladies sitting behind us while we were waiting for the funeral to start. They were whispering to each other VERY LOUDLY about how funerals were a waste of money. The one lady said she just wanted someone to dig a hole and throw her in. The other lady said she would like to donate her organs. Seriously? Is there a high demand for 85 year old hearts? In her defense, she said she was probably too old to do that. Now here's the real *giggle giggle* point of this part.

Old Lady #1: "Look at her neck! Did you see that?"
Sophie: **shoots snot out her nose holding in a gut busting laugh**
Old Lady #2: "Do you think that's French?"
Old Lady #1: "I'm not sure. I wonder what it means?"
Sophie: type type type type send
My Blackberry: bzzzz
Me: **reads following text from Sophie**
SOPHIE'S TEXT: Those old ladys really need to learn how to text!

No, Little Old Ladies, it's not French, it's Arabic, and it means BITE ME! EMPOWER



So we went to the cemetery after the funeral. It was raining, so we were in the Mausoleum. The pastor read a really cool poem about the dash on headstones between our birth and death dates. I want to find and post it; even Sophie thought it was deep. As we were leaving, Pam said she appreciated that we came. I told her of coarse we did, after all I have her namesake. Pam looked dead at Sophie and said, "I know, I just can't believe how big you've gotten Valerie."


Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me?


We got back in the car and I dropped Keith off at a mini-mart (I have no clue why). When he got out of the car he said, "It was good to see you Valerie."


**Bangs head on steering wheel**

Wordless Wednesday



It's T-Ball Time!
photos courtesy of: Owen







Monday, March 23, 2009

Someone From Blackberry...I Need Something To Hold My Balls!

I am uber-cool. I have a Crack Blackberry. I have had said Crack Blackberry for over a year…the longest I have ever owned a single phone! I love this thing…not THIS kind of love…ewwie!!! The kind of love where it is never more than 12 inches from me at all times. It is my lifeline to my kids, my clients, and my superhotandsexy Mr. Wonderful. I’m pretty sure that one day I will have to have it surgically removed from the palm of my hand. I start to panic if I set it down for too long; my heart races, I get all flustered and I start to sweat.

My poor Crack Blackberry is kinda dirty. Cruddy, actually. The keys are all gunked with sand from the summer of Sophie’s softball tournaments, and nail dust from being 2 inches from me while I work. The cool little roller bally thingy was starting to stick, so I decided to clean it. I figured it was just like when a computer mouse needs to be cleaned.

Wrong!

There is a little ring that holds the roller bally thingy in place. I took this off to take out the little roller bally thingy. Easy enough…till I went to put it back together and noticed that the little ring that holds the little roller bally thingy in had clips on it.

Plastic clips.

Which I broke.

Actually, there were 4 clips; I only broke 3. So now the ring that is supposed to hold the little roller bally thingy in is flopping all over the place. Oh. Shit.

So I get on Crack Blackberry’s website and search for roller bally thingy replace roller ball replace. This is what I got:

You searched for: roller ball replace.
Did you mean: rollerball replace

Oh, sorry, my bad! So I click on roller ball replace, and I get this:

You searched for: rollerball replace.
Your search - rollerball replace - did not match any documents. No pages were found containing "rollerball replace".
Suggestions:
Make sure all words are spelled correctly.
Try different keywords.
Try more general keywords.
If you are looking for answers to your technical questions, please visit the BlackBerry Technical Solution Center.

Seriously? Did Crack Blackberry’s website just send me on a wild goose chase of sorts for something they knew they didn’t carry? Well doesn’t this look like a useless great thing to blog about!? I have had 0 hours of sleep since I woke up on SUNDAY and I am starting to get a wee bit slap-happy, so the screen is starting to go blurry and I keep getting interrupted by text messages and oh great I forgot what I was talking about……

Opinions Are Like @$$H0L35...We All Have One!

So I have insomnia...and I was catching up on my bloggy reading at 3:00 am when I ran across this awesome post on Polka Dots & Pansies. It's some random, but In-Your-Face questions that really made me think. It was interesting to read some of the other bloggers that answered these questions too, like love Maegan and Because Katie Says So and Penny's Thoughts. And just like they did, I will add the following public service announcement:

THE FOLLOW VIEWS BELONG TO ME, SHELLI (WISHES SHE WAS) MRS. BURCHETT, WWW.IMAKEHAIRROCK4U2.COM, AND I'M TOO BUSY TO BLINK...AND I NEED A PEDICURE. YOU CAN AGREE, OR YOU CAN DISAGREE, BUT YOUR VIEW WILL BELONG TO YOU;) ISN'T FREEDOM AWESOME?!?!?!

Feel free to grab the questions and answer them yourself...I love to share!


Would you do crystal meth if it were legalized?
Well, let’s see…do I want to age 10x faster that normal? Do I want my teeth to rot out of my head? Do I want to have oozing sores all over my body?

Naaawwww, I think I’ll skip the crystal meth!

Abortion, for or against?
I would never; couldn’t live with myself if I did.

I am DEFINATLY against 3rd trimester abortion for any reason. Saying that the mother’s life is in danger sounds like bullshit when 24 week gestation babies are surviving with advanced technology. As far as the baby being at risk…like vacuuming their brains out isn’t harmful?!?!?! Even if the babies have medical issues, there are people out there that would LOVE to adopt them if their biological parents don’t want them.

As far as abortion in general is concerned, I do not think it should be used as a form of birth control. Every woman is responsible for her own body. Abortion is a decision that will stay with a woman for the rest of her life. It is not a decision that should be made with out serious thought and counseling. In cases of rape and sexual molestation, where it is out of the female’s control, my view differs somewhat, but it is still something they need to think about seriously before making any decisions.

So, I would guess that makes me against? But I did agree with the mother of that poor 9 year old girl in Brazil who was raped by her step-father and pregnant with twins…I would have made the same decision if she were my daughter. So, I guess that makes me a hypocrite?

Would the country fall if there was a woman president?
Women=RAWR!!!

Do you believe in the death penalty?
Leviticus 24:19-21
19 "If a man injures his neighbor, just as he has done, so it shall be done to him: 20 fracture for fracture, eye for eye, tooth for tooth; just as he has injured a man, so it shall be inflicted on him. 21 "Thus the one who kills an animal shall make it good, but the one who kills a man shall be put to death.

Matthew 5:39
Turn the other cheek.

Ok, so I paraphrased Matthew. No, I do not believe in the death penalty. Housing the same inmates in death row like conditions ie. no physical contact with family, solitary confinement, etc. would probably cost less than the appeals process that goes on for those on death row that wait 20 years before ever being executed. What makes the people flipping the switch or starting the IV any better than the murderer themselves? And while we’re on the subject of starting the IV…why do they wipe the inmate’s arm off with alcohol before they start the IV to administrate the sodium pentothal? Is infection really an issue at this point in time??

Do you wish marijuana would be legalized already?
I have my CDCA (Chemical Dependency Counseling Assistant). I laugh my ass off at people who preach that marijuana is safe. Have you ever noticed that people who smoke pot on a regular basis are usually immature? A person stops maturing when they stop using drugs. For instance: my oldest 3 children’s father started smoking pot when he was 15. He is 47 now. He stopped smoking pot 2 years ago. He has the same level of maturity as my 18 year old son. People who are regular users also display a lot of the same characteristics as those with bi-polar disorder. It messes with blood pressure, memory, lowers testosterone and gives guys moobs! I could go on and on!

Just say NO! to drugs! (but D.A.R.E. is a proven waste of $$)

Do you believe in God?
Most Definitely! I was raised Catholic, but when I was old enough to go out on my own, I started venturing out in search of something else. I am much happier in the Non-Denominational Christian church.

Do you think same sex marriage should be legalized?
Again, most definitely! As long as two people are in love and they aren’t related…who are we to judge?

Do you think it's wrong so many Hispanics are moving to the USA?
Hell no! We all came from somewhere to here, unless you are a Native American. They are the ONLY people who can claim the Unites States as their own!

A 12 year old girl has a baby...should she keep it?
I have a 12 year old daughter. She is a really good kid in general; I’m very lucky. BUT…she is a horrible babysitter and she never feeds HER dog. There is no way in hell she could take care of a baby, nor would she want to. If a 12 year old is having sex, and its not because she was taken advantage of, then there are other issues that need to be addressed with this child. There is probably no supervision at home. This could be due to parents who work all the time, or parents who just let their kids run wild. In either scenario, adding a baby to the mix would be disastrous. I would definitely say this child and her family would need to be involved with a social worker and counselor so an informed decision could be made.

So, my answer would be no, she should not keep it herself, and it’s questionable if her parents should raise the child either.

Should the alcohol drinking age be lowered to 18?
Can I get a HELL NO!?!?!?!? Like I said…I have my CDCA!
Should the war in Iraq be called off?
I know why we went there, but do we know why we’re still there? Yes, it’s time for everyone to come home to their families so they can start to heal.

Assisted suicide is legal...do you agree?
Is it legal? I think it should be legal. We just discussed this in my Psychology class. Why is it inhumane to let animals suffer, but not people? Why is it ok for a man to have his wife’s feeding tube taken out so she starves to death, but it’s not ok to push a little too much morphine to a terminally ill person so they drift off into eternal sleep a little bit easier? I know I don’t want to suffer, and I don’t want my family to watch me suffer.

Do you believe in spanking your children?
I got my ass beat when I was a kid, and I was still a brat. I spanked my oldest 2, and they don’t listen to me. I never spank the youngest 3...they actually listen to me (sometimes).

Would you burn the American flag for a million dollars?
Duh! I think I’m allowed and it wouldn’t be unpatriotic…I was born on the 4th of July!

A mother is declared innocent after murdering her 5 children in a temporary insanity case...what do you think?
What kind of insanity? Postpartum Psychosis? That is the only temporary form of insanity I could imagine. There are serious mental illnesses that could facilitate someone doing this, but I can’t imagine it would be temporary. I think she should be sentenced to a psychiatric hospital for the rest of her life, where I’m sure, if she regains lucidity, she will hate herself for what she did and find it hard to live with herself. That punishment would be more severe than any the law could hand down.