Tales of a Misguided Mommy

The most genius thing I ever learned

Fri, 09 Jul 2010 23:42:20 GMT

When I first got my iPhone I excitedly posted my first blog post from it while going pee in a restaurant bathroom. It went something like, "I hate waiting in fucking lines at restaurants."

The only problem is, it came out as, "I hate waiting in DUCKING lines at restaurants."

Jodifur commented and told me I needed to teach my iPhone to cuss.

Two years later and the fucking thing still wouldn't type, shit, fuck, piss, fucker, hell, etc.

While browsing comments on the new iPhone software I came along the most brilliant comment on the planet.

I learned how to make my phone cuss. You see, your phone will never auto correct the names that are in your contact list. Meaning if you have a friend with the name Hipitabano your phone will never correct that word when you type it.

Which is why I now have a contact named FUCK SHIT.

Guess what? My phone has never corrected the word shit again. No more shit turning to shot. Nope not here. I am planning on adding the following contacts.

Fucking asshole. Piss Pissed. Fucker shitty. Fucked shitty and Cunt bitch.

Pretty fucking genius if I do say so myself.

To leave it on a lighter note

Thu, 24 Jun 2010 12:51:16 GMT

After telling Codi to go put his shoes on and go finish getting dressed he stomped up the stairs, turned around and said;

"CHECK YOU ATTITUDE MOM"

Great.

A tribute

Fri, 18 Jun 2010 09:53:21 GMT

I promised you an update and I will do that soon. For now, what I can tell you is, I never realized just how much I would miss all of you when I was going through something really shitty. To summarize, I've spent the last 5 days at the hospital watching the grandfather that I stubbornly hadn't spoken to in two years deteriorate. He has been unconscious the entire time which means he never got to hear me say I'm sorry, that I love him, that we are both totally bullheaded, hard headed and stubborn but he wins I give up and I'll say sorry first. I learned one thing from him. In fact it wasn't learned it was bread in my genes (aside from a raging temper, the need to be right, and being one stubborn son of a bitch) the art of cooking came from him. He is the reason I don't use a recipe and on the off chance I do I always change it. The reason I cook from taste. He was the reason that for so many years I cooked every meal with love. He is the reason my kitchen is full of All-Clad, Les Creuset and Wusthof. The reason Henckle knives have been banned from my kitchen. In fact, hes the reason I have fingers because he was the only person who could explain to me how NOT to cut them off while cutting a tomato. Needless to say I can't cook anything right now. I was able to walk in the kitchen long enough to get coffee but in the end I had to drive to the store at 730 this morning to buy a lunchable because packing Brandon's lunch was too much.

The last few months I've said over and over I've lost the luster in the kitchen. I don't love to cook anymore. It doesn't thrill me I don't care and I cook only to make sure they have food. I wonder if my mind wasn't trying to tell me something. If it wasn't telling me to buck up, stop being a shit head and just go see him. They say kids and animals have a sixth sense, well, I wonder if that part of my heart didn't have that same sense. I will spend the rest of my life regretting the things I didn't say to him. Or knowing he died never knowing how much I still loved him. His eyes moved a little and he blinked some and I can only hope he heard all of the stuff I said. Some serious, some stupid, some just to get a response. But, one thing my grandma could tell my mom and I (his first wife my actual grandma) is that when he died he wanted "I did it my way" on his head stone. I never got it. So yesterday when I loaded my moms iPod with Neil Diamond and David Allen Coe, and maybe even a little Willy Nelson, we added Frank Sinatra's My way on. And now, my final hope is that in those last few minutes, while he could maybe hear, he heard his final song. And if you read below, I can't imagine ever finding a song more perfect for him, or those last moments. We will be taking him off life support soon and then it is just a waiting game to see how long his body lasts.

Until then, I dedicate this song to him, take a second to read it.

Artist : Frank Sinatra
Song : My Way

And now, the end is near;
And so I face the final curtain.
My friend, I'll say it clear,
I'll state my case, of which I'm certain.

I've lived a life that's full.
I've traveled each and ev'ry highway;
But more, much more than this,
I did it my way.

Regrets, I've had a few;
But then again, too few to mention.
I did what I had to do
And saw it through without exemption.

I planned each charted course;
Each careful step along the byway,
But more, much more than this,
I did it my way.

Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew
When I bit off more than I could chew.
But through it all, when there was doubt,
I ate it up and spit it out.
I faced it all and I stood tall;
And did it my way.

I've loved, I've laughed and cried.
I've had my fill; my share of losing.
And now, as tears subside,
I find it all so amusing.

To think I did all that;
And may I say - not in a shy way,
"No, oh no not me,
I did it my way".

For what is a man, what has he got?
If not himself, then he has naught.
To say the things he truly feels;
And not the words of one who kneels.
The record shows I took the blows -
And did it my way!

How to say goodbye

Sun, 23 May 2010 16:58:02 GMT

This post has been a long time coming. I'll go ahead and warn you ahead of time that I will say the words truth and honesty a lot in this post, so please don't tell me to get a thesaurus.

I've been blogging for close to three years. When this started I had dreams of being famous. Of being a Dooce or an Amalah. The truth is, the stories in my head would have drawn me a giant fan base. The problem is, my real life friends and family found me and suddenly I censored everything I wrote. So I turned to humor. I tried to keep it light and funny. Occasionally I would discuss the dark places in my head, and often I would simply ramble. When this all started I would rush to my phone or grab paper to write down all the things in my head. I was full of posts. Full of anecdotes about my boys. Now, well, now I have a hard time thinking of things to write. I find myself forcing the funny, or searching very hard for a post.

The truth is this. While I have wanted to say my medicine feels like it is working, I know it is not. I know that I have retreated back into myself. Maybe that is part of this post, maybe not.

Being honest I'm having a hard times with things in my life. I'm having a very hard time dealing with my extended family. I thought I tucked them away in a neat little box but last week I saw them all. In one room they were there. I broke down. Badly. I found myself wondering why the only good grandma, the only good extended family had to die and I got stuck with these people. It was hard. Hard knowing I let them get to me that much, and hard knowing they didn't even care.

My cousin told me God never gives me more then you can handle, if that was true I wouldn't be heavily medicated right now. I wouldn't find myself lost in my head wishing I could find myself again even if it was just for a day.

Blogging has become a chore. It's become something I feel obligated to do for so many different reasons. But lately I've found myself leaving my computer closed. Drawing away from Facebook and Twitter. Spending time with my family has made my Google reader over load. But pulling away from the computer has helped me in so many ways. My husband and I are getting along the best we have in nine years. The other day he said that all of our mushy texts and cuddling and hugging are because we are still in love. Every day still feels like that honeymoon phase, those first few months. I am so glad we got that back. So glad that every single night when I get in bed he automatically opens his arms to cuddle with me. I believe his actual words were that we were still "courting" each other. He chose that word because he thought it was something Edward would say. He told me that a lot of people who have been together nine years don't have what we have. People who have been together a year don't have what we do. I wouldn't have found that if I was still sitting here on my computer.

I used to think my grandma sent Rob to me. But lately I've started to think my birth father did. I think he sent me Rob to make up for all the things he never did for me. No matter what he did dead or alive he will never compare to my actual dad. Never. Truth is, I'm just as thankful for my dad as I am for my husband. My birth dad has become a distant memory. He has become a burden. Having his name is a burden. I want it gone. I want to wash my hands of it. I do know for sure that my grandma sent me my boys. I know she did it to save me. She must have known I would have gone to any length to become the mom I needed to be. She had to have known I would turn myself around and let go for the sake of my boys. Dead or alive she is still the best grandparent I'll ever had. I've come to appreciate the blessings in my life. My mom who is on my side no matter what. My dad who will protect me always, even if it is silently. I am thankful to have a husband who will spend the rest of our lives holding me and loving me no matter who I am. Thankful I have two boys who love me unconditionally. Thankful for my best friends who have never left my side. Friends who let me spend two and a half hours in a car talking about nothing but MIley Cyrus and music. I don't need to write anymore to feel special. I don't need to share my life anymore. I need to keep it here inside of my heart and hope that all of this good will eventually push out the bad.

So. With great difficulty and sadness I have made the decision to stop blogging for now. Not forever but for a long time. I hope you keep me in your reader so you will know when I come back. For now though I need to be with myself. I need to work out my head. I feel like I can only burden all of you so much talking about my crazy. I can only write so many stories about my boys. I've become repetitive and boring.

I have made some amazing friends from this blog. Patty, Mathers, Jiff, Marnie, Christie. All of them. The thing is, we no longer communicate via blog, we text, or email, or or leave notes on Facebook. I've realized I don't need the blog to communicate with them.

I have so many stories in my head. Things I would love to get out. Things that would amaze all of you. Not being able to share them is starting to clog up my brain.

Yesterday I got in my car and drove two and a half hours alone to pick up Ginger. I had my Miley Cyrus music, and the sound track to her movie blasting. I had the windows down in a hail storm and the heater blasting. I relaxed. I knew in that moment I was done writing. I knew it was time to close the computer and find myself.

I am doing something I never imagined I am walking away. Again I hope you never lose my link because some day I could come back refreshed and anew. I might come back ready to write again and be funny. I might stop by here and there to let you know I'm still alive and well. Besides that I will say goodbye for now.

I will miss all of you. I hope you can understand why I am leaving. I hope doing this really helps me succeed in my journey. I hope I am finally able to find some peace and put my head to rest. I hope I will be able to spend every single second with my husband and kids. My true family. My family that will never walk away. I hope I can find the courage to never break down in front of them again. I hope so many things.

If this post seems rambly its because it is. I sat outside today and wrote this post a thousand times in my head. It sounded so much better in my head. I have the hardest time transcribing my head onto my blog. The truth is I am witting this as fast as I can so I don't change my mind.

I love all of you. Thank you to my loyal readers. I will close my computer now, I don't plan to open it again until it is time to balance my check book. And for now, I say goodbye.

Goodbye.

NOTICE THE HAIR

Thu, 20 May 2010 12:33:37 GMT

THAT IS THE LAST TIME I LEAVE HIM ALONE WITH HIS SAFETY SCISSORS

Peep show

Wed, 19 May 2010 10:16:37 GMT

The next time I get the bright idea to only paint the toenails that will be visible through my peep toes....

Someone go ahead and remind me to fix that before I put on flip flops.

Dumb ass!

Will resume as soon as the hang over is gone

Mon, 17 May 2010 07:49:53 GMT

Ouch....

It must be the alcohol

Wed, 12 May 2010 23:59:10 GMT

I'm pretty sure it is the mom in me, but, I cannot go to the bathroom with out shutting the door. Even if I am home alone it is now instinct to shut AND LOCK the door. Why? Because four years of having some shit head little kid walk in while you are peeing can give a girl a complex. And really, four years of having a kid walk in while you are changing your pad, and then ask if "you are changing your diaper" will really give you a complex.

Nine years later I still won't pee with the door open if Rob is near the room. In fact. If Rob is home I won't pee with the door open if he is in the house PERIOD.

Nine years later if I pooped (because girls don't, obviously) I will not do so in the same room as Rob. Which means, if he is in bed rather then go into our bathroom and poo (if girls did, which we don't) I'd rather go to bed with a belly ache then...do that while he is in ear shot. Could I go downstairs and poo? Sure, but then HE WOULD KNOW I WAS POOING BECAUSE I WENT DOWN STAIRS.

It's hard being a woman.

I am going out this weekend. If there are any hip young girls who read my blog can you please school this old lady on what the cool kids wear out these days? Please keep in mind my jiggly bits when you are telling me what to wear.

The new limited edition S'mores ice cream is the most stupidly delicious ice cream I've ever tasted in my life. EVER. Why why why is it limited? WHY? In fact, it is better then the Thing Mint ice cream which is a very tall order. But y'all any slow churned ice cream that still has bits of graham cracker goodness and whole marshmallows totally kicks ass in my book.

My husband is at a soft ball game. My parents have the kids and I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO. Am I really so old that I spend my first night all alone doing nothing but watching Top Chef and eating ice cream? Isn't there something worthy I'm supposed to do?

I have cracked my knuckles about 7 times since typing this.

I hate when people lick their finger to turn pages. If it's your book fine. But when I stop by to pick up paper work and you lick all over your fingers and then touch your nasty ass grubby fucking germs on my paper I want to karate chop you. Why why why do you feel like it is okay to smear your disease infected saliva on my papers? WHY??? This happened to me a couple weeks back when I had to pick up a material receipt from a supplier. I wanted to vomit on myself when he handed me the paper. I tried so hard to remember where he touched it so that I didn't put my fingers anywhere near his nasty teeth, smoker mouth, gross ass saliva.

The dishwasher guy came over yesterday to look at my dish washer. It doesn't seem to dissolve all of the soap and...I dunno it just doesn't seem to work right. His answer, "well your water isn't getting hot fast enough.

HOOOOOOLD ON THERE SPARKY. Didja know the part about me having instant hot water? Instant. Do you know what instant means? It means that if you turn my faucet to hot turn it on and put your hand under it YOU WILL GET BURNED.

The guy looks at me and says, well I understand that you think you have instant hot water but just to be safe you should probably run your sink water for about 3 minutes before starting your dish washer so the water gets hot enough.

.......

Did you read that?

THREE MOTHER FUCKING MINUTES. This guy was old, but fuck I didn't know he was senile. So again. Slowly and very calmly I explained my instant hot water. To which he shook his head, and said, yes honey I know you "think" your water gets hot fast but water has to run a while until it heats up.

I wanted to bang my head into a wall. So I had him stand up, put his hand under my faucet and turn it on. Fucking shocker it was hot! No shit sherlock. And he says, "well that is because we have been messing with the dish washer for a while so the water has had a chance to turn hot.

In the end I gave up. Totally gave up, said okay sure, what ever crazy old man and sent him on his way.

This reminds me of a totally random story. I might have told you about it a hundred years ago on this blog, but I have new readers, so old readers, tough luck you get to hear it again. When we were moving in here the alarm guys came out. They asked where I wanted the alarm bell thinger. I said, well I don't want it right out in the open because it hurts my kids ears. They said, no that wasn't possible. OOOKAAY. So then they ask where I want my key pad. I show them where and they say, "nope not possible." Look. I'm a nice girl. But when you tell me no with out even kind of trying well...I'm going to get testy. So geek boy one and nerd boy two try and tell me where they need to put my key pad and where my alarm bell thingy is going to go.

I cross my arms and say, "NO I WANT IT HERE."

Shit for brains guy #1 again tells me no. Right about this moment my dad looks over and sees that I am 1975 days into a remodel, I'm testy, and I want what I fucking want AND THE CUSTOMER IS ALWAYS RIGHT. He turns to the guys, looks around for a total of about three seconds and says, "okay, let me show you, obviously you can't figure this out." With in 30 minutes the moron twins had my shit wired in right where I wanted it.

Huh. Imagine that.

I'm sure it comes from 20+ years of my dad running thermostat wire into places about the size of an ant hole, but what really pissed me off is that they just said no. NO. How do you say no with out even trying? It is probably good my dad was there that day because I think I would have thrown those assholes out.

The humorous part is my dad looks like a totally normal guy. Like some average Heating guy, or construction guy. But he is not. He is a fucking genius. It kind of drives me crazy. Growing up I would ask how to spell something and he would say "look it up." Man that shit pissed me off. But, I guess he must be so smart because he "looked it up" all those years. Anyway, the funniest part was that these guys looked at him like he was crazy. Like he couldn't possibly know what he was talking about. These two youngins thought they were going to school him. Silly silly boys. They must not have "looked it up" when they were learning their job huh?

People give me so much hell for my Google addiction. But, that is why. I'd rather Google the dumbest thing and figure it out then remain ignorant while pretending to know what I'm doing. Which is why, last week when Patty got her iPhone I was adamant that she get the Google ap. So she could Google such things as sauté. Although why she would Google that instead of me just baffles me. Point being. That damn Google ap is the best free thing I ever put on my iPhone.

Google can get me in a little trouble too. I have a habit of Googling people and finding out naughty bits that I shouldn't. Don't people know in this day and age you should stop being a fucking idiot because if not I will Google you and find out your dirty little secrets. Then of course I will get Ginger on Yahoo and show her my Google find, then 90% of the time I will get my mom on Yahoo and share my little Google gem, and then...99% of the time I end up in trouble.

Point being, if you are a thief, a baby stealer, a cheater, an asshole, a player, a cheat, a bad business man, or a closet gay man who is married I WILL FIND YOU!!!!!

Okay. I should stop talking now. You see, this is what happens when I'm left home alone with nothing but ice cream and amaretto.

Uh oh, maybe I shouldn't talk about all of this....you might all be able to Google me some day.

PS my spell check says that: Poo, fuck and thingy are not real words. They obviously haven't fucking met me.

Stupid little girl

Tue, 11 May 2010 14:10:36 GMT

I was thinking that next time I go to the gym I want to repeat the work out I did at my last training session. Then I reread this and figured it might be better to go home have some vodka and stumble up and down my stairs calling it exercise then to ever do that again.

This part specifically reminded me I DO NOT WANT TO REPEAT THAT:

This is the point when I realized I had actually just thrown up a little in my mouth and that I was seriously at the gym swallowing down vomit.

VOMIT

Eventually I was done. I was a free girl. I stumbled out of there wobbling like I was drunk, the room spinning like I had just tossed back a bottle of Jaeger. When I got downstairs I actually had to sit down for a second (that is when I wrote the first blog) and regain composure before getting the boys. For a moment I actually wondered if I would be able to safely drive home. Then I thought, "fuck safety do I even have enough energy to push the gas peddle down?

The answer? Barely.

I just got home. I pretty much collapsed in my chair. I have no idea how I think I will make dinner. I have zero idea how I will parent for the remainder of the night. In fact, if I have to pee I'm pretty much fucked because I don't think my muscles have enough energy in them to even squat down onto the toilet, let alone heft my fat ass up off the toilet seat. I'm contemplating asking Brandon to go get me one of my jumbo over night pads so I can just pee in that all night rather then trying to actually move.

Give away results

Mon, 10 May 2010 12:08:07 GMT

Moved the give away post, Shannons in trouble post, and results here. I have announced a winner so hurry up and go see.

Also, you really want to go see it because it is another ridiculous video blog by myself, the dork.

Until I have better time to edit it, the give aways will be posted on my former Misguided Mommy blog. Here is the link

http://wilddreemer.blogspot.com/

Shannon gets in trouble...also, why the winner hasn't been announced yet

Sat, 08 May 2010 12:24:46 GMT

Live video blog of Shannon being a moron and discussing results delay can be found here

http://wilddreemer.blogspot.com/2010/05/shannon-gets-in-trouble.html

This girl is kicking your ass in the give away

Tue, 04 May 2010 17:47:46 GMT

This picture of her purse is kicking ass in the give away, I think she gets extra points for labeling each item on her flickr. You all better get it together before she totally creams you!

Too see her mad labeling and organizing skillz click here

Then someone magically find one of these purses for only $20.00 instead of $250 mmkay

How to get pink hair

Sun, 02 May 2010 21:44:21 GMT

(Don't forget to enter my $60.00 giveaway)

Let's have a giveaway ($60.00 value)

Sat, 01 May 2010 11:41:57 GMT

Recently I was contacted by a company called ******* asking if I would like to do a review or give away. I browsed around there store and I was dumbfounded by all of the things they had. Bar furniture, kids things, kitchen stuff, purses ugggg the list went on. I had to close it when I got to the kid section because I started getting caught up in things like this (I don't even like bunk beds), and this (TRIPLE BUNK BEDS WHO KNEW!!!) I got out of there and some how stumbled into housewares which somehow led me to the recycling bin area where I saw this..Just what I've always wanted a trash/recycle bin for my kitchen. I headed over to the hand bag area and that is when I found this ridiculously cute diaper clutch. Right about then I knew I had to stop browsing because I DON'T USE DIAPERS MY KIDS ARE POTTY TRAINED! I had all but made up my mind that I was taking that $60.00 and running. But alas, I like you my dear readers so I am going to give it to you instead. (Round of applause please)

Here is the game. In my last post I discussed my issue with not having my purse/wallet/ID case when I went somewhere. My mom commented that perhaps I needed a smaller purse. So, I would first like to show you why that won't work either.

This is my every day purse. It is my beloved Lucky purse that I just had to have. Everyone told me it was too big.

Everyone did not know how much stuff I NEEDED to carry with me. Here we have the contents of my purse!

My wallet.

My bag of necessities (epi pen, xannax, motrin, oragel, etc)

My bag of other necessities (tooth brush, tooth paste, gum, and fancy smelling lotion) (side note you should always have fancy smelling lotion in your bag you never know who you might need to woooo with your delicious apple smell)

My notebook, journal, and pens.

My medical stuff. the boys medical records, my records (med dosage, dr visits etc) and all of our insurance cards and doctors information.

and of course my keys

And my variety of purses IN EVERY SIZE.

So you can clearly see that having a smaller bag is not an issue, I have EVERY SIZE OF BAG.

Here is what happens when I try and carry a smaller bag

The girl stuff gets all pushy with the kids essentials bag, my notebook gets drown, my wallet cries because the pen holder is pinching it and THIS DOESN'T WORK.

I could lose the girl essentials (begrudgingly)

And things fit just fine.

Here though is the actual real problem. The root of it all. NO MATTER WHAT I hate carrying any purse unless it is totally necessary. What I've learned is that I prefer to simply have my phone and ID case. I stick those in my pocket and away I go.

But Shannon what if you don't have pockets (gasp)?

Never fear my lovely friends I always have a pocket. For those of you with kids in diapers you know that they have a terrible habit of shoving things in their diaper and calling it a "pocket." Well folks meet my "pocket."

Yup. There you have it. My pocket. I discovered this while I was at the gym. I needed somewhere to put my phone/iPod so I stuck it in my sports bra while running. I liked that idea so I tried it out a few times while shopping around. I liked that even more so I figured, "hey why not stick your ID case in there and be gone."

Best idea ever. So yes if you run into me now there is about a 90% chance you will see either my phone, or ID case (or both) crammed in my bra.

So it's settled. Purse, no purse, wallet, whatever I will still end up with my goodies stuffed in my bra. Like I said before the real issue is remembering to grab my purse with my wallet from my house and put it in my car. Or remembering that my ID case was in some jeans pockets. The purse has nothing to do with me remembering to put the necessities in my actual car.

But Shannon didn't you say there was a give away?

I did! I did!

Here are the rules. Following them will win you a $60.00 gift card. The better you follow them the more entries you get. I will put all of your entries into a bag and with photo evidence I will pick a winner. Here is how you can enter.

1 entry - leave a comment here

2 extra entries - link to this post on your blog (make sure I know you linked it)

3 extra entries - show me what is inside of your purse and then come back here and comment so I know to go look

And if you want 4 extra entries you can link this post onto your Facebook and/or Twitter account.

So remember the person with the most entries is most likely to win. And trust me folks, you want this $60.00 gift card because there is some really good shit on ********.

(deadline to enter May 7th, you have one week)

Operation DUMBASS

Fri, 30 Apr 2010 21:19:56 GMT

I'm pretty sure somewhere in heaven God is laughing at me. I carry a purse. Inside my purse is my wallet. Inside of my wallet is my little card case.

Inside of that I have my id, my debit card, my chick account debit card and my Smiths card. I keep those in the little case because sometimes if I'm just going to dinner or a movie I don't want to carry my wallet, so I just grab that. I carry my purse often, but if I'm being truthful it usually hangs out in my car doing nothing but carrying stuff I "might" need one day. (Note to car jackers: Ha ha if you break in and steal my purse, you just scored, two notebooks, a MAC lip gloss, kids toys, infant motrin, and two pens, that's one hell of a steal huh.) I bring my purse in the house once in a while, if my parents take my car, or if I need to get my checkbook or whatever. These are the stories of why THAT IS A REALLY FUCKING STUPID IDEA!

Two months ago weeks ago I pick Brandon up from school and because I'm feeling nice I decide to surprise him and take him to get that Birthday cake milkshake that Burger King had for a while. He was sooo excited. We go in and order. Milkshake, kids cheese burger, fries for Codi, and a milk. Then the guy asks for my card. No problem, I reach into my wallet and NO CARD CASE. Goddamit I had went out the night before and the fucking thing was in my pants pocket in my laundry hamper AT HOME.

....

I just stare at the guy

...

Uhhh, I don't have a debit card (this looks 3 times more stupid because I have a wallet in my hand so I look like I'm full of shit) so um, yeah can you cancel that order. I was soo embarrassed. Who cancels an order at a fast food place? Of course since I promised Brandon that meant I had to drive home, get my debit card and go back. Since there is only one Burger King near me I had to go to that one and REORDER from the same guy. Walk of shame people.

So, two months later feeling nice again I decide to stop and let Brandon get a Double Stack (NOT a double cheese burger, not a junior double cheese burger a DOUBLE STACK) with a side of bacon, ketchup only, two frosties and fries for Codi. The lady says "great that will be $6.98."

.....

OMFG I am in the drive through with no wallet. None, no wallet, card case, nothing and I'm pretty sure Burger King won't take a check. I did the adult thing and sped out of there as fast as I could. I was lucky that I could drive out of that drive through with out actually passing the window. Both of the boys started yelling at me about their frosties and double stack and FAIL MOM. Back home we go. Get the wallet and since I'm NOT going back to the same drive through and ordering the same meal I convince Brandon that Burger King has a great double cheeseburger (thank god he loved it).

Fast forward to today. I was at work, and Brandon is sick so he was at work with me. Rob doesn't get off work until six which means I would have to miss the gym because I don't want to take a sick kid to the gym (do you hear that mom who brought her kid to the gym daycare with pink eye ASSHOLE). I ask my mom if I get the boys to sleep at the same time can I go to the gym during work. This is fine, but it suddenly turns into about 4 more errands. Okay cool it's nice out who doesn't mind driving. Then I remembered I had to pick up a building permit. And since my city is broke the permit place is only open until three rather then 4:30 like normal. FUCK! I have to go now. I have one hour and thirty minutes. I needed to go pay a bill, hit up three banks, go to Office Depot and do that. I pay the bill and I have one hour and fifteen minutes left. I decide that when I go to the gym I want to swim. But crap I don't have my gym bag so I don't have a bathing suit. GENIUS I'll just run to Walmart and buy one. You have got to be kidding, I don't have my fucking purse. I contemplate driving home but realize I have my check book, SCORE. I look at the clock I have 14 minutes and I know I can make it in time. I run in and manage to find a massively cute bathing suit and even find matching tops and bottoms (impossible at Walmart, I think people buy all of the bottoms to the bathing suit I like just to fuck with me). I get up to the check out and was so happy to see that there was only one person in front of me in the express lane. Hell ya I'm going to make it!

"Can I see your ID"

.....

Fucking fuck shit fuck. ID are you kidding me. I guess I'm so used to every store in town knowing me well enough to take a check, not to mention most places will do it if the sale is under $20.00. So now I'm standing there with the lady behind me standing so close she could be a hemroid. I am begging the cashier in front of all these people but NOOOOOO.

Walk of shame out of Walmart.

I came home got my gym bag, got my purse and hauled balls to the permit place. I luckily made it in time and then made it to the gym (minus one super cute bathing suit) and things turned out okay.

Moral of the story? I think I need to go to my bank and ask for an extra debit card on our account. One that I can keep in my car for emergencies like the above examples since it appears I do this shit often.

Okay and on to a totally different topic. My Smith store always has shopping carts outside with things on mega clearance (hello Cheerios for .79) and I ALWAYS stop and look because one day I might need an arm load of tongs and Easter bunnies. But today, oh boy, today, there was my favorite Always brand of maxi pads. Pads are expensive and there they were for only $2.00.

TWO DOLLARS.

But I stopped. I they were sort of at the bottom of the cart and I realized I wasn't brave enough to be the girl digging to the bottom of a cart for maxi pads, nor was I brave enough to carry my clearance pads to the check out. So tell me, would you have gotten them and thrown your pride aside? Or would you have run screaming like a four year old the way I did?

Parenting at its finest

Thu, 29 Apr 2010 18:35:05 GMT

Both of my kids are picky eaters. Well Brandon isn't anymore but he used to be. Both of my kids are also very skinny. Brandon was in the 10th percentile for weight for almost three years and Codi spent a whole year in the 3rd percentile. Their pediatrician was pretty clear on the matter:

1. If they want to eat it let them, as long as they are eating something

2. Anything bad for a woman on a diet is good for them right now

I guess I took that a little seriously huh? The other problem is that my kids have a way of getting other things in their mouth that aren't food. But the biggest problem is papa, he lets them have anything because he is wrapped around their finger. I only wish I had a picture of Brandon at 3 months old when my dad tried to feed him a chocolate doughnut.

Once upon a time Brandon found a tub of butter in the fridge and decided it tasted good. He not only ate over half of the tub of butter, he also stripped totally naked, covered himself in butter and started sliding around on the kitchen floor at my work.

Codi just has issues with getting the food in his mouth. This past summer he pretty much lived on pop-sicles while teething. He came home stained a different color every day.

But once, the little shit mistook a stamp pad for something delicious. He was so fucking pissed off when I had to clean all of this red off of him. My niece was supposed to be watching him...oops.

Cream cheese. From day one. Yes, that is my son eating a bowl of cream cheese with his fingers. No need for crackers, a bagel or even a spoon.

I will never understand why it is so hard for kids to just get the ice cream in their mouth. And yes, that was his dinner...but he ate right???

Brandons second Halloween we stopped by my grandmas house. She gave him a Hershey's bar. On the way to another grandmas house I let him have a piece while we were driving. Rob got mad and said I shouldn't do that, because he could make a mess. I told Rob to shove it. About three blocks from our destination i suddenly smelled chocolate. Then I thought wait, I SHOULDN'T BE ABLE TO SMELL IT. We pulled over and this is what I found. I guess Rob was right.

A while back at the grocery store Brandon was going on and on about being hungry. I asked what he wanted and of course he replied "cream cheese." Being the A+ mom I am of course I obliged!

About a year ago my dad was watching the boys. Rob came home to find out that papa had indeed fed them dinner. Brandon wasn't quite finished with his yet.

But was it the popsicle or the high lighter?

When Codi won't eat and starts losing weight I have one full proof plan. CHOCOLATE!

This was their dinner one night when we were out at the rib cook off. Excellent dinner eh?

We can't have peanut butter anywhere because of Brandon's allergy BUT we do have tons of soy butter. Surprisingly Codi likes it. Usually he dips his apple in it. But some times he says fuck the apple, screw the utensils I'm using my fingers!

And there might have been one accidental incident where Codi might have possibly eaten a little bit of dirt.

What I learned? Never leave Brandon alone with pudding again!

Hey look, that was vitamin fortified milk GO ME for being healthy...too bad Codi didn't realize the milk box wasn't a sippy cup.

To reiterate...papa feeds the boys excellent dinners!

It appears hell froze over

Thu, 29 Apr 2010 17:18:32 GMT

I WIN I WIN I WIN I WIN I WIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I WIN

I told him last night that this can go on for eternity. It was supposed to stop when I hit my goal weight but I can easily stay one pound over my goal weight just so he suffers. Guess I scared him!

Correction

Wed, 28 Apr 2010 22:11:35 GMT

My husband got his panties in a bunch because I didn't mention his time on the Climb the Legacy thing. Mr. Show off pants came in at 5:05, 23rd place out of 271 people. Pretty fucking amazing huh? I'm proud of him can't wait for next year when we both train harder.

Post it note Tuesday

Wed, 28 Apr 2010 10:39:53 GMT

10:32

Mon, 26 Apr 2010 17:49:44 GMT

I made it to the top of that fucker in 10 minutes 32 seconds. Next year I'm training double time...I'm coming for you stairs! (Yeah, looks pretty high huh? It's even higher when your coming around a corner panting and dying and some dick fuck says smile and snaps your picture)

Heartbreaker

Sat, 24 Apr 2010 19:53:55 GMT

I keep everything. By everything I mean EVERYTHING. The old calendars from my date books, letters, notes, you name it I have it. I'll be the first to admit I cried a lot of tears over guys in high school BUT I'll also admit there is a reason they used to call me heartbreaker. I wasn't always the fat crazy (maybe was crazy) girl I am now. I used to be pretty hot. I was just going through some pictures and I came across a ton of love letters from guys. The humorous part is how many of them talk about loving me after I'd only known them for a week or so. The extra funny part is how many of them are dated in the same week but from different guys. I was kind of a player.

I was thinking about posting some of these guys love letters. They are hilarious, but, I'm not sure if that would piss my husband off or not. There are so many things I did from the time I was about 16 until I was 19 that a lot of people don't know about. There are guys that some of my best friends only just found out about. Or stories of my cheating ways that are slowly coming out. Going through all of this stuff should make me feel bad but really, it makes me laugh and at the same time it makes me smile. I had some pretty fucking awesome years when I was younger. I'm not just finding pictures of guys, but nights out. They are so funny to me because unless you were there you would never know why that picture is so funny. Like the picture of my friend and I at the Nugget splitting an ice cream sunday, that doesn't seem funny to you, but if you knew how totally stoned we were and how long we searched for that ice cream sunday, the picture is much funnier. I'm going to dig around in them and think about this, what is your opinion, should I do it or not?

At least the guy in the car thought it was funny

Sat, 24 Apr 2010 12:45:08 GMT

I don't know if I've mentioned that Codi is pretty much potty trained. He wakes up dry every day but I'm mostly too nervous to let him sleep with out a diaper or pull up. This mean he is really new to learning when and where to go potty.

Last week I pick the boys up from school and I've become pretty good friends with his teacher so we chat for a while and then leave. I walk out and notice her boyfriend there ready to pick her up and I smile and keep walking to the car. I have a lunch box and a bunch of papers in my hand so my goal is just to get all of that in the car before the boys take off running through the rocks and trying to climb the flag pole. I get to the car and Brandon says, "mom I have to go potty." Of course I said, "dude we were just inside for over 10 minutes why didn't you say it then?" As I'm saying this I'm putting all the shit in the car when I hear Codi of course repeat that he he has to go potty too. I put the last of the stuff in the car and look up to tell them we can go inside when I see Codi standing directly in front of the Pre School doors (and right in front of his teachers boyfriend) with his pants and undies all the way around his ankles thrusting his "parts" out as far as he can giggling his ass off and PEEING alllllll over the side walk. I was too embarrassed to look at the boyfriend to see if he noticed so I just grab Codi mid pee and was dashing to the car while trying to pull his undies up at the same time. I get to the car open the door and turn around to see Brandon (my very smart very potty trained, knows better 4 year old) standing about three feet from where Codi just was standing pants around his ankles thrusting his "parts" out even far, no hands and just laughing his ass off trying to see how far across the sidewalk he could pee.

Then I died. Because at this point I saw about three other parents were coming in and out, the boyfriend for sure saw and one of the teachers had even seen. I get Brandon in the car and his teacher comes walking out to meet her boyfriend and I said, and I quote, "DO YOU SEE WHAT MY ASSHOLE LITTLE KIDS JUST DID." She looks down, sees two puddles and looks up at me, looks down again and is like," OMG is that pee???????? The mortified look on my face confirmed it. She told me she was going to talk to Brandon about tomorrow and we were one our way.

Minutes later she texted me to tell me that her boyfriend saw the whole thing and was STILL laughing about it. In fact the next day he was still laughing about it. The remainder of that ride home went from bad to worse. Codi spent the next fifteen minutes saying FUCK FUCK FUCK. This prompted Brandon to say, "moooooom Codi said FUCK CODI SAID FUCK."

AHHHHHHHGAHDLKSAJGAIO;RSGJAW;RGNTAO;RIGN;OAIDHFGAREGH;ARUHG;OAEWUIHG

I was about 4 seconds from ripping my pink hair out. Instead I said, "Brandon, you know you don't have to REPEAT the word Codi said, you can just say Codi said a bad word." The car was silent for about 13 seconds before the two of them went at it again. Codi touched Brandons car seat, so Brandon punched him and on and on and on and on. And then Brandon says, "moooooooom Codi is being an ASSBUTT."

I deserved that didn't I? That's what I get for calling my boys assholes right in front of their face huh?

I called Rob and told him I was meeting him right away and he was taking the kids because I was about 4 seconds from totally curling in a ball and dying! I dropped them off, drove to Scheels, returned some shoes, then got myself a nice cup of gelatto. But don't worry, I went right to the gym after!

Things I do that really annoy my husband

Fri, 23 Apr 2010 00:20:16 GMT

He will put a fresh hand/dish towel on the counter, and with out fail I will immedietly use it to wipe up some kind of spill and then put it back. Drives him NUTS.

I never flush the toilet when I pee at night (unless it's my girl time of the month) because for some reason toilet flushing at night scares the fuck out of me. He huffs and puffs at me every morning.

Say something just as he was thinking it. He always tells me to get out of his head. I think it's hilarious.

Britney reminded me of this one, I clip my toenails on the couch. It drives him batshit crazy because he clips his toenails outside. Psh, I'm not freezing my ass off for that.

I leave about 17 episodes of Oprah and 42 episodes of Rachel Ray. He gives me nasty looks every time he scrolls through the DVR.

I use the kitchen island as a desk/dumping ground/mail center. Basically when I walk in the house most everything ends up on the island.

I am terrible at putting my laundry away. He runs around and puts his laundry away the second it's folded. Me, I just stare at it for a while and will it to get put away.

I giggle at the gym.

I pile blankets on the boys at night even though I'm well aware that they both kick them off and sweat.

I crank the heater up to 72 if I get a little bit cold while he sweats and melts.

I complain allll night long about the noise the fan makes in the summer when it is 90 degrees outside, eventually making him turning it off.

I leave stuff in his car every single time I drive it.

My car is always messy.

The list goes on and on. What do you do to drive your spouse nuts?

Sticky note Tuesday

Tue, 20 Apr 2010 16:22:26 GMT

My new totally fucking awesome hair

Mon, 19 Apr 2010 01:06:02 GMT

Isn't it so super rad?

It's just in time to honor breast cancer month. It's going to fade into the raddest color!

For those of you wondering this is the product I used it was $9.99 from Walgreens