Holiday Recap and a Request for Humble Children

Well, we're off to Vegas first thing Monday morning, returning sometime on Saturday. And in the spirit of things, I thought I'd do a little reflection on some of the holiday highlights here in our humble household.

I'm hoping I don't lose too many readers by not being here for a week - but then again, I don't have many to lose, plus a trip to Vegas kind of trumps everything else these days...especially after being in lock down with four kids for the past week surrounded by never ending packaging to open and cardboard recycling up the ass.

And to throw out a temptation for those somewhat interested in what goes on in Vegas... it'll be my 100th post when I return, so I'll have to make it a doozy. And let's just say that even though my husband and I agree "What goes on in Vegas STAYS in Vegas", I promise to bring my camera and share some of our highlights. [I'll probably have blogging content for months from this trip.] .

Thanks to all of you who continue to visit, read, and especially put up with my foul language - this new blogging world has given me a little something on the side to allow myself to vent frustrations - so much better than beating the kids or slashing my husbands' ex-wifes' tires. So thank you for that. And I'm totally serious. [OK, I haven't beaten my kids, I PROMISE. But that doesn't mean I haven't thought about it. ]

So, here ya go. And one pic really says it all... and it's not my armpit, I swear.

Family ROCKS.
And even though we had our share of family over the past week, there's nothing like running around like a chicken with your head cut off, sipping wine and chasing 14 kids through the house [along with my brother's new bichon puppy] in the spirit of celebrating the holidays.

OK. Two more pics.

The first only comes in the format of an apology for my last post picture which I believe may have been a little too "real" for some people...


This school holiday feast pic has absolutely nothing to do with Christmas but since it's new [and I believe I scared off many readers with the close up of my sweaty arm pit], I thought I would include it to show that I actually do love my kids. Swear. [Oh, and I can clean up somewhat decent too, if needed.]

And finally, remember that post reaching out to all of you asking if we should make the jump and bring home a puppy? WELL...............................

No fucking way. This is Gizelle, my brother's bichon puppy who we kindly babysat overnight for this past week. That's all it took. I'm not sure if it was the brutal attack to our Christmas tree or the walks at 3:30am after being woke up by puppy yelping. But it was the best gift we could have gotten. A sound decision. There is no way this household can manage a puppy right now. Thanks Sami for the opportunity. [And we might even offer to have Gizelle back once she sleeps through the night and kindly shits and pisses outside, bro.]

It seems like this was the longest holiday ever. If I see another present handed to any of our children in the next several weeks I could possibly lash out and dig my nails into the kind presenters' eyeballs, so for those of you in close proximity, stay clear. In all seriousness, we're going to try to make a new tradition next year of taking all the kids to help work in a soup kitchen, or some other "giving" capacity to help those who most need it. If any one out there has any suggestions, please advise - PLEASE - before our kids turn into total narcissists and feed on other kids. It's totally possible these days, and absolutely not acceptable in this house.

See you in a week, and Happy New Year!

Cheers!

Guitar Hero Addiction...blogging hiatus needed

Dear Fellow Bloggers,

Happy Holidays. I am in need of a blogging hiatus due to a horrible addiction I must address: I can NOT STOP PLAYING the new Guitar Hero Wii Band game that we presented to our four children last night around 5pm.

I would like to thank my drum teacher of 5 months from 1982 and my violin teacher, Mr. Thomas of 4 years in elementary school, for giving me the abilities to actually beat the shit out of my husband and brothers on drums and guitar.

And I would like to apologize to my kids. Especially Sydney. I didn't mean to yell at you and hit your fingers with my drumstick that third time - but seriously, how many times did I tell you NOT TO TOUCH THE YELLOW DRUM PAD WHEN MOMMY IS PLAYING?? I mean, go grab your god damn Nintendo DS or PIXOs for heavens sake that you wanted from Santa with ALL YOUR HEART. Please. Leave us alone so we can rock out.

And for those contemplating this endeavor, I would like to leave one final note.

This is the results of too many hours of Guitar Hero:

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I rest my case. And also promise to shave and wash my sweaty arm pits after our microphone is hooked up tonight and we have Band Face-Off #2.

PS...And I would also like to thank my bbf Sha from high school days who sat and sang every word of the Beastie Boys album with me for hours on end. I would not be where I am today without you.

An Apology Well Needed

Dear Jokster Daughter #2,

I absolutely cherish your wonderful sense of humor, always trying to make everyone laugh, always trying to be the center of attention. Even your little patty cake dance routine you've created to announce an upcoming fart for the family has us laughing, especially when you're frozen in the Saturday Night Live John Travolta stance at the end as the gaseous odor suddenly and simultaneously escapes your behind. I actually think you are talented and have been given a gift by God to make others smile and laugh.

At the same time, I'd like to remind you of something. You know how everyone in the world says you're JUST LIKE MOMMY? Well, I have a confession.

Last week was a doozy between work, the holidays and most horrifically that nasty ass stomach bug invading our house - do you remember sweet angel? So with all that stress, while you were at Daddy's house this weekend, Mark and I had a nice [over the top, wild, drink til' you're on your knees] kind of weekend, sweetheart. And one night, when we got home a little too late after an abundant amount of red wine, your precious gingerbread cookie was just STARING at me from the kitchen counter. I mean those beady little eyes Syd-Bo-Bid just would not let go of the hold they had upon me. And Mommy got mad.

So dearest Jokster Daughter #2, when you see this, I apologize. I didn't intend any harm, but then again, remember: Mark is a cop, and cops just play jokes. So when Christmas comes, and I pull out all the gingerbread cookies, please remember baby cakes, that you are just like Mommy. And Mommy is just like you.

I'm so, so sorry.

PS... and for the record, that arm was absolutely, scrumptious!

Love,

Mommy

What Kind Of Mother Am I?

I don't know, I'm thinking that maybe there really is too much pressure these days on little girls and sexuality.

I mean, how else in God's name could a child literally entertain herself for HOURS on END like this if that is not the case????

[Is my child hopeless? Please send help.

Or in the very least, a very, VERY, BIG bra.]

Charity: Crappy Gifts for the ill

I lied. As exhaustion was just beginning to set in, I made the mistake of clicking on The iNDefatigable mjenks for a quick visit, who absolutely kills me at times... and through my bloodshot eyes I thought I saw my name in the middle of his post.

Shit.

So here it goes. The iNDefatigable mjenks over at "A Crown of Thistles" is passing along a challenge to participate in holiday charity work. [I'm going to do the best I can in explaining this, as I usually have to read his posts several times to gain full understanding as he uses a much higher level than my common vocabulary of "fuck" and "ass"... but please remember I excelled in math and always lacked in verbal skills] .

The challenge stems from the originator of it all, the supposed Internet Sensation Dr. Zibbs over at The Blue Yak... and basically it's based upon the lovely thought of charity giving. And how nice it would be to give charity gifts to sick people over the holidays... with the hopes that some fucking rich guy could just find our list of electronically-generated ideas of generosity and actually go buy them to distribute appropriately. But then, Dr. Zibbs decides that sick people really didn't need nice gifts because they'd probably just cough on them or something, so here was born the challenge of the Crappiest Charity Gift Ever.

So here are the very easy rules. Those of us so honored to be chosen must pick a crapolicious gift for the ill and post it, then simply pick five other bloggers who you believe would go along with the crappy gift giving task to sick charity groups, ensuring links to the the one who selects you and the original creator, aka, Dr. Zibbs.

Here are my picks:

Scary Mommy

Swirl Girl

Shelle

Binks

Katie

So here it goes. And because I've actually been dealing with the most violent stomach bug I've ever witnessed in my 38 years through the body of my 8 year old daughter, my immediate instinct is to give things for those effected by such a mother fucking condition.

After experiencing my first suppository deposit into my little girls ass last night, I thought for those extremely ill, and those without astute butt clenching abilities, a case of Enemeez would suffice. There is nothing like the feeling that your abdomen contents are impacted all the way to the top of your esophagus while suffering from the inability to take that miraculous shit of a lifetime that you so desperately crave.

I mean, come on. With a case of mini enemas... how could I NOT include a pair of disposable panties for those unexpected droppings??? Or drippings???

And this just starts to go along with the whole bottom back body section that I thought was very interesting... it's anal bleach creme - which you can apply at night for longer acting treatments. My thoughts are ... wait... I just can't even type my thoughts. Or my questions. I'm actually quite scared about this product. Especially after my husband just told me about the use of this product in the porn industry. So I'm going to offer it anyway since it falls into my "ass" theme, with highest recommendations going out to all those sick porn stars working hard over the holidays to keep smiles on many of our, [oops, I mean other peoples'] faces.

And finally, for those men that may be suffering from a bad cold, it's the almighty "Male Package Enhancer". In the chance you have to overdose on cough medicine, here's an extra boost of confidence if you're on a date or just trying to build some pride. This hint comes from personal experience, as in our house we have learned that cough medicine is NOT compatible with BIG BOY SIZE. It actually has temporary detrimental effects. Sorry honey, but it's not like we haven't shared this with our close friends, right?

[Disclaimer: On my husband's behalf, I would like to ensure readers know that cough medicine does not literally shrink his penis. However, temporary functionality is an issue. And as such, he will always choose to cough his lungs out before medically treating any type of upper respiratory issue again.]

Can I take a free pass today?

I'm exhausted and begging for a free pass today. I'm taking a break from writing so I can wash my hands, brush my teeth and actually spend some time with my husband as I have somehow forgotten what he actually looks like these days. I've spent the last 36+ hours with an 8 year old as she has been puking, crying, clinging and begging me to stop her from feeling so sick inside.

And usually while I'm the first one to crack a joke or sarcastically swear about my kids and tell it like it is, the only thing that comes to mind today [aside from how I'll be lysoling the entire house for the next 18-24 hours to reduce African monkey disease that I am now sure has seeped into this house] is that being a mom is pretty fucking hard. And at the same time, as my little girl could only find comfort in "mommy" every second of every hour for the past day and a half, and as my eyes continue to burn from the loss of sleep I've endured, the only other thing I can feel is how pretty awesome being her "mommy" truly is.

Bringin' on the love for Binks... GO BINKS!

OK my friends... for the sake of supporting my groupies, click here and vote for this week's "Don't You Hate It When..." Winner.

And no, this is not any type of self promotion as I of course did not make the finals once again [some people just can't take a potty mouth mom] . But hey, if I can't win, then I would like to offer my entire subscribers' support [all 11 of you] to BINKS!! And all you just peepin' in without any blogger account, YOU CAN VOTE TOO!!! I know you are there, so go and vote! Make a difference!

So, once again, click here , check out the top right column, and vote for Binks. And better yet, check out the update on today's post over there, and CRACK UP at her own "Don't You Hate It When..." entry. It's easy. It's free. And she will LOVE YOU FOREVER! And then comment here and send her some love so she knows it!!!

Well, what do you think? [and why I need to get a life]

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Oh Yeah... ANOTHER "Don't You Hate It When..."

[Disclaimer: After writing this last night, I have gone back and tried to edit for PG-13 acceptance. I believe "ass" would be acceptable, at least it is in our house, but if not, please do not read any further and cancel this post. K?]

It's time again to play the almighty "Don't You Hate It When..." game, and while I absolutely love this topic, I'm also quite depressed around the fact that this theme is just WAY TOO EASY for me to write about. I'm just sayin'.

Last week while scrolling through my camera card pics, I came across two messed up themes that seem to be recurring nightmares. The first theme, "Freaky F_#K*!G Family", was my submission for Candid Carrie's Foto Friday. You can check it out here.

The second theme [which will be the source of today's "Don't you Hate It When..." post] comes from one of our little peeps... and I'm wondering if you can guess which one looks just a bit MISCHIEVOUS below - she NEVER smiles normal for a picture, and yes, this could be one more addition to the "Freaky F_#K*!G Family" theme:

If you guessed the little blonde peep whistling Dixie, then you're correct. She's taken up a new photo hobby these days. [And I can only hope those dirty pics my husband and I took last year do not somehow resurface during one of her play sessions. If they do, I'd willingly take the dart my step-son is just short of launching at my forehead in the above pic.]

So, for today's post, here it goes....

Don't you hate it when you find out that your 6 year old peep has a dirty, secret obsession with snapping shots of family asses without you knowing at the time? I mean, come on! It's hard enough to find a head shot that makes you feel OK about yourself to post, but your f_*K#!g ASS? And don't you hate it when you have to prepare a question for your next therapy session asking if repeated ass picture taking by a 6 year old signals serious mental problems? I hate when that shit happens.

Now go on over to Shelle's and join the fun.
And Thursday, go vote for the funniest "Don't you Hate It When..." entry!

Dear Santa (please don't hate me)...

Dear Santa,

I am writing to say "I'm sorry". We are really trying to be in the utmost Christmas spirit this year, but continue to have several challenges. So in my quest to "keep it real", here is a list of some of the things I'm very sorry about.

I hope you can forgive me, and somehow find it in your heart to put me on the "nice" list.

1. My four kids seem greatly unappreciative. When it's this difficult to think of what to buy each of them, doesn't that mean they just have way too much shit? I truly think this is the case, however, I am having a hard time making them see the light. Instead, they just circle catalog items such as a $4,999 youth jeep vehicle and a $1,950 Pottery Barn couch. Oh, and they also wouldn't mind a brand new orange corvette and three more computers with high-speed broadband service because taking turns to play on Webkinz is just not fair. I'm sorry on their behalf.

2. I have been swearing just a little more than normal. Little Sydney just yelled "Shit!" from inside her fort this morning because she couldn't get out in time to answer the telephone. And 5 year old Cooper repeatedly talks about his "ass" and "package". As I remind them how we don't use those types of words in our house, Samantha just mumbles "Jesus Christ" under her breath and Spencer proudly announces to the entire household that he wasn't the one to last yell "Asshole". I'm so sorry.

3. My attitude has been a little on the down side these days, since the announcement of possibly losing my job in early January came to fruition. And worse than losing my job, there's always the chance that I'll be the one chosen to actually stay in my department, while inheriting a territory that will bring even more hours of driving each day, staring at a windshield with nothing else to do but listen to self-therapy talk radio on Oprah and Friends XM Channel 156. My apologies for realizing today that no matter what happens next month, I will bitch and resent the upcoming transition, whether it is accompanied by a paycheck or not.

4. This one's the hardest for me to admit to. Yesterday, while taking all four kids to one of the local Christmas tree farms, my husband and I pulled a trump card. I only hope you can understand how long 35 minutes really feels like when traipsing through snow and ice in 17 degree weather, with four kids who would never come to an agreement on what type of Christmas tree we should bring home to decorate this year. I realize there are many things to consider in such a holy decision such as height, width, fullness, branch length, bushiness and don't forget the absence of any major holes in the center which would not allow for lights or ornaments to evenly flow. Actually, my husband and I thought we were doing quite well with our patience until my 8 year old suddenly shed real tears while insisting a particular 13 foot [biggest, widest fucking tree I've ever laid my eyes on] was the one we must get "...because the bigger the tree, the more presents you get...", we came to the end of our human rope. With that we threw [literally] all four kids in the car, screeched our minivan wheels backwards out of the dirt parking lot only to make a bee-line for our basement storage room where we pulled out a 4-year old fake as Pamela Anderson's titties tree which is now our staple in the family living room. I will not spare you more details.

5. I'm sorry about the Pamela Anderson titty reference above.

And while I don't have any specific items on my personal Christmas Wish List, here's a few things that would inspire me to smile:

• Daughters that brush their teeth a little more regularly.
• Step-sons that have better smelling asses at night.
• Ex-spouses that would move away to Japan. Or Africa. Or anywhere greater than a country length away.
• Support to all those that need it in this country with all going on. I mean the ones who really need it. Please give your energetic magical wishes to them.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year,

Susan

New Foto Friday... FREAK FAMILY

So, I've come across Candid Carrie's Foto Friday opportunity for today's blog content... check her out yourself at : http://carriestuckmann.blogspot.com/ - all you need to do is throw out a favorite pic or roll of pics and mention why they bring something special into your heart. Favorite project? Family pic? You know, whatever makes you smile.

[Hey, I can do this, right??? Yeah, let's roll through the camera card and see which shot jumps out.]

Well, within 4 minutes of scanning pics, the only god damn thing that jumped out at me was a frickin' theme. A family theme that I guess goes right along with the whole "F" theme today in Carrie's Foto Friday opportunity...

Can you say "Freaky Fucking Family"???

Take a look.

I don't think many words are needed.

Uh... yeah, I wonder where my kids get it from, right???

Even my proper, perfectionist kid can sometimes get into the freaky act.

Uh, yes, and it's obviously a hereditary trait, as that's my brother with my little peep.

And who the hell is THAT behind all those happy kids? WTF????
[For the record, they all SAID they were going to make funny faces with me , OK??!!]

Freaky, Fun & Fabulous. Yep, that's my family. And I think I'll keep 'em.

Who, ME??? HONEST???

Well, here it is. I'm honored as hell.

I'd like to thank binks at http://binksday.blogspot.com/ for the honor and recognition of "telling it like it is" in my posts. Trashy mouth, nasty kids, ass of an ex. Yep. Keepin' it real. That's me.

So, as the game goes, if you get an award, you usually have to work for it. Here are the quick [and not-so-painful] rules:

"When you receive the prize, you must write a post showing it, together with the name of who has given it to you, and link them back.

Choose a minimum of 5 blogs that you find brilliant in their content or design. [ok, the real rules said 7 but I don't have that many people to torture!! - also I will assume that brilliant = honest/truthful/keepin' it real to match the so called honesty award attached??]

Show their names and links and leave them a comment informing that they were prized with 'Honest Weblog'.

List [if you can and/or dare] at least ten honest things about yourself. Then, pass it on!"


OK, here's who I'm taggin'. Don't hate me, OK??? But I can't help to think that each of you will have yet another list of unbelievable honest confessions that I'm sooooo looking forward to! :

• Karen at http://knaphrodesiac.blogspot.com/ - She makes me feel better about myself because she has a mouth like mine. Her son almost became president, and she knows how to kick ass in a courtroom. She totally keeps it real.

• Katie at http://www.strayraisins.com/ - OK, as if no one knows, I am a loyal fan. Just like Karen, here's another "potty mouth" mom, who literally should write a comedy book of her personal stories. And spiders. With pictures.

• Dorsey at http://searchingformyinnerskinny.blogspot.com/ - This is about as real as it gets. She's a daily click here on my end, and the one thing that keeps me there is literally how real and honest she can be. And her husband wears a cowboy hat.

• Georgette at http://canthardlywait38.blogspot.com/ - Even though I just learned that I am old enough to be her mom, I still love the way this girl tells her story. I am pulling for her to make some mighty decisions in her life...I feel like I'm reading a book, and look forward to each and every new chapter... plus, she swears way more than I do.

• Jennifer at http://familypogo.blogspot.com/ - How much more real can it be than putting one of the hardest personal tragedies you might ever face out there in blogland. And while I am not expecting any immediate response right now with all going on, my thought here was to offer some new blogging content for her - just pure distraction for the time being. My heart aches for her as I've been through her most recent personal experience twice myself.

And to follow through on my obligations so I don't feel guilty about posting my award to the left column in the very near future, here's 10 HONEST things I can think of at this very moment:

• The more I drink, the more I fucking swear. Oops! Shit. Sorry.


• I think Michael Phelps has the ugliest haircut, and his feet gross me out on his new commercial that's on every 10 minutes. I will admit that boy can swim though. Damn. (Shit, there I go again.)


• I absolutely LOVE Beyonce. I think she is one of the most beautiful women out there. Seriously. Not that I buy her CDs, or hang life-size posters in my bedroom [though my husband might like that], but I think she is just beautiful. Did I say beautiful?


• Even though I am 3 weeks away from finding out if I get laid off from a career of 12+ years, I'm kind of excited and hoping it happens. But then I'll literally shit my pants if it does.


• I have never literally shit my pants, but I have come very, very close and only my husband knows how I avoided this mishap. Only because one night we shared our most private "accidental shit" stories and literally almost laughed to death. And then last month he made me tell his sister and her husband. Oh god. So I guess my husband's not the only one who knows. Shit, I forgot.


• I am extremely fearful of turning into an old woman that leaves a smell in a bathroom stall upon exiting. You know what I'm talking about, right? Oh please god, let me always be able to keep a clean ass.


• I married my Dad in 1998.


• Ok, I didn't LITERALLY marry my dad, but you know how therapy goes, right? I mean, I finally learned that I married my dad when I married my ex-husband years ago, and it took years with an amazing therapist for me to learn how my past affected many personal choices I have made, and years to allow someone as wonderful as my current husband into my life. I'm literally blessed.
  
• Even though I've been described as having a "potty mouth", or a "mouth like a sailor", I am probably one of the most risk-averse humans you could meet. Except drinking too much red wine.


• I still go to my therapist once a month and actually write notes before my appointment to ensure I can make every minute worth while since she's seriously so fucking good. I'm not kidding. She rocks.


• And I'm just adding a #11 here because I always like to add to the record the fact that I truly do not like, care for, respect, appreciate, tolerate or stand in the least my husband's ex-wife who continues to believe she controls our lives. And I'm petrified she might find this blog since by some accident one of the networking sites I joined months ago somehow turns up on a google search. Fuck.
  

So, there's my dose of honesty for the day. Oh, and as I'm typing this and spell checking, I might as well add one more honest confession at 6:23am... while many schools are closed at this point while I sit here watching the news, I am PRAYING that my kids have school today even though I'll still most likely use an "inclement weather" day for work, in order to do some shopping, go to the gym, then cook a big pot of chili. GOD, PLEASE LET THERE BE SCHOOL. I'm terrible.

Now for those of you "tagged", let's get to it!

In The Clear???????

Did you ever have a time where suddenly you were bombarded by out-of-the-blue hints that force you to do something you should have done a LONG TIME AGO? I mean, eerie, sudden hints? Eerie, sudden hints that continuously slap you in the forehead, to the point you ask yourself:

How much longer can I actually put something like this off????!!!

Here are the facts:

• I have two girls and my husband has two boys. Grade-wise we have a kindergartner, first, second and third grader. Yeah, I know.
  
• My husband had the amazing courage to offer to get a vasectomy last year. Actually it was 15 months ago this Christmas, but why would we be counting, right?


• Routine follow-up for vasectomies includes TWO sperm-sample checks, to ensure the procedure went as planned, and there is NO sperm spillage... sperm leakage... You know, accidental pregnancy for a couple that has way too much on their plates already.


• We never got our second sample check.

Here's the sudden, eerie hints I'm talking about:

• Psychic at recent psychic party feels "MORE" children around us. AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.


• Lunch at my husband's Urology office 2 weeks ago [I am a drug rep]: Stories of two men just coming in with pregnant wives, both after vasectomies that didn't get samples re-checked. AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

• Waking up too many times with temporary birth control ring stuck to my right ass cheek. AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
  

So this proud procrastinator would like to say, "We did it, everyone".

Sperm-Free, and Proud.

OK, My Family Is Just As Nuts!

In honor of the holidays, and the fact that my mind is still pre-occupied with work issues, I am going to post our family Christmas card. I was able to mail out 80+ this past Monday, which is absolutely unheard of in my world... Um, can you say "Procrastinator"???? Between me and my husband, we would put off wiping our asses if possible. And how I even thought of that type of exaggerated example to just throw out there into this black, dark, cyberspace of a hole, I have no idea, aside from the fact that there must be some truth to it.

So anyway, as goes my potty mouth, so goes our Christmas card.

Totally "nontraditional" however, in my mind... absolutely "perfect".

Happy Holidays!

I'm way too busy. Here's Why. And Check this out.

I'm having a few challenges this week with keeping up on creative blogging content.

Here's Why [like how this correlates directly with my title?] :

• Work is kind of the priority on my mind and my phone is ringing off the hook. More details have come about my department, and we're going from a group of 300+ to a team of 125. I'll find out January 5th, or soon after. Merry fucking christmas. And everyone who is calling me: STOP WITH ALL THE "WHAT IF's". I can't be dragged down with all the unknown, so leave me alone. Let me enjoy my last month, being as irresponsible and incapable as possible. [Except for you Carla - I love friends who are willing to strategize as to how I can best spend the next 20+ weeks of a possible severance package living the good life until reality hits me right in the ass. Bring it on girl.]


• My husband's ex-wife is back from a 12 day trip. She's back. What a wonderful time it was for us and the kids.


• The girls had yet another half-day of school today. I'm not sure why this seems to surprise me as they pretty much never have school any more. No wonder kids can't pass state exams. Maybe if they held school more often, they'd fucking learn something.

Oh, and for my "And Check this out" part of my title, CHECK THIS OUT:

I know many of you already read Katie over at Stray Raisins. But if you haven't already, PLEASE, for your own entertainment, click on the below link. I dare you to tell me you can't relate to her story about the obnoxious ass - AKA: Stupid Haircut Kid. I am still snorting my wine, laughing out loud, and I thought that in honor of her hysterical post, I would just use it as content for my own. Thanks Katie!

http://www.strayraisins.com/2008/12/your-little-cherub-is-obnoxious-ass.html

Blogging Lesson Of The Day

I'm going to make this very quick. And let me just say that this is a perfect example of how my life works on a regular basis, and I swear new readers, totally unintentionally.

What not to do when attempting to research and join new blogging networking sites such as Blogamama or SITS in order to find new blogging friends:

Do NOT comment on any new social site the exact same day [or actually 7 minutes after] writing your last blog post entitled "I'm A Blog Snob. I'm so sorry." without realizing that your comment will actually entice other curious social networking members to possibly click on your comment link which will then direct them to your latest blog posting which boasts what a fucking snobbish blog bitch you actually might be, and how you hate blogs that might focus solely on content such as kids, food, recipes, blah, blah, blah...oh, sorry.

And did I mention that this also opens you up to receiving horrid, tear-your-ass-up comments from members of that social network that don't even know you, and because of this you shouldn't give a shit about what they write back on your blog consisting of 6 total readers, [thank you dear friend Libby for pointing that out yesterday], but these comments will stir within you for hours upon hours, not allowing you to sleep and forcing you to talk about it with your husband seven hundred and twenty four times, even though you get no reaction or empathy back, forcing you to realize that you are totally on your own and need to then stand up for your right to write what you want to write since that's what blogging is all about anyway?

Well, if I didn't ever mention that before, I'm throwing it out there today. BELIEVE ME. Don't do it.

Holy shit, are we THAT Bitchy??? yep...

NINE WORDS or PHRASES WOMEN USE

[Disclaimer: I would like to thank my sister-in-law for this. Author is anonymous.]

[My husband said he could have wrote this himself.]

(1) "Fine" : This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to shut up.

(2) "Five Minutes" : If she is getting dressed, this means a half an hour. Five minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given five more minutes to watch the game before helping around the house.

(3) "Nothing" : This is the calm before the storm. This means something, and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with "Nothing" usually end in "fine".

(4) "Go Ahead" : This is a dare, not permission. Don't Do It!

(5) "Loud Sigh" : This is actually a word, but is a non-verbal statement often misunderstood by men. A loud sigh means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you about nothing. (Refer back to # 3 for the meaning of "nothing".)

(6) "That's Okay" : This is one of the most dangerous statements a women can make to a man. That's okay means she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake.

(7) "Thanks" : A woman is thanking you, do not question, or faint. Just say "You're welcome". (I want to add in a clause here - This is true, unless she says "Thanks a lot" - that is PURE sarcasm and she is not thanking you at all. DO NOT say "You're welcome". This will bring on a "Whatever").

(8) "Whatever" : Is a woman's way of saying F-- YOU!

(9) "Don't worry about it, I got it." : Another dangerous statement, meaning this is something that a woman has told a man to do several times, but is now doing it herself. This will later result in a man asking "What's wrong?" For the woman's response refer to # 3.

I think this is hysterical.

The Truth: I Am A Blog Snob. I'm so sorry.

I am admitting a major fault today, with the possibility of sounding like a ruthless bitch.

I'm a BLOG SNOB.

I have spent the last several HOURS searching sites to introduce myself to new blogger friends..."stalking others" within this black hole of cyberspace, as people so openly call it. However, I have realized that even within this somewhat anonymous blogging world, I am very, very picky.

Maybe I should call it "being truthful" or "keeping it real". However, there are so many blogs out there that make me "yawn" or even "cringe in my seat" as they repeatedly rant about how wonderful and beautiful their kids are, and let's see, what else... share shopping deals, homemade baby food tips and holiday cooking recipes.


NOW, PLEASE DON'T GET ME WRONG... all of this is great when it comes in small doses... I would NEVER claim to be BETTER than someone else at blog content, but from those I ran across this morning, I might say mine is "different" [and probably more trashy/real/honest in a self-therapy kind of way]. I've certainly had my own share of writer's block, and have had to resort to such morbid and boring topics such as molesting massage experiences, how I suck as the tooth fairy, and outright bitching sessions around my husband's ex-wife and her narcissistic ways... but when the Joy of Cooking 8-Course Meals is someones sole content, I immediately shut down and wither away, like the Wicked Witch of the West... my internal sole just melts to smithereens and I feel the need to chant out words like "FUCK" and "SHIT" for no reason while running to the kitchen to sip wine or vodka.

I guess that in reality, this whole blogging thing was initiated around the joy of writing trashy humor and to allow my husband and I to laugh at ourselves regularly. I love to pick out the imperfections in our lives... and I love to swear. And of course, I love my red wine. But I actually can't tell you the number of blogs I clicked on just this morning that quoted scripture or life lessons or just rolls of family pictures that cited over and over how beautiful and perfect their kids of all ages were. My anxiety has doubled with it, while realizing that people like this would undoubtedly be insulted by a comment from someone who writes about how putting a potato up your vagina can actually hold your uterus in place. Or maybe they would feel sorry for me and offer a well needed prayer.


So today I would honestly like to say to all my readers in this hour of honesty and truthfulness, if I comment and click on you regularly, it means you have made me literally laugh my ass off on more than one occasion. And that's what I need from this blogging world, with all the other bullshit going on in my life.

So to all you readers who may come across this post, THANK YOU.
Cheers.

A Picture Can Say 1,000 Words.

As we prepare for our second Thanksgiving Holiday Meal later this evening, this is how my husband and I are feeling today. Can you say

B - L - O - A - T - E - D ???

[Disclaimer: This is NOT my real husband. I swear he doesn't wear saggy jeans like that. His ass is much nicer. And he really doesn't have a big gut as shown above, I swear.]

[Disclaimer: This is NOT really me. Even bloated however, I would welcome this woman's shapely middle section these days. I would like to admit, my bloating is MUCH worse than hers.]

That's all I got for today.

Holy Potatoes! I guess it could be worse.

[DISCLAIMER: I would like to note that I did google the story below after writing this post (and being taunted unsparingly by my husband for hours) and I found it to be a tale spread online 2 years ago...but I will continue to believe expert physicians on prime-time tv in this day and age hold some credibility, at some level. Otherwise, I am without blogging content for today. Thank you.]

[And for the record, you would NOT BELIEVE what you can find on the internet when googling "potatoes and vaginas". Oh. My. God.]

I'll probably be getting notice in two weeks that my job will no longer exist - and it has nothing to do with the "economic crisis" we are currently facing. In a nut shell, it's the nature of the industry I have lived in for 13 or so years... our next big drug for small-cell lung cancer didn't make primary endpoints in two of its three big trials. News just came last week... which was then followed by a sudden mandatory conference call this morning which shed the dismal light that many of us will be notified in two weeks as to whether we'll have to look for other positions within the company, or simply move on.

It should be a sad day for me, or at least one filled with a little angst... which actually, it is I guess. But then I heard this story while visiting my Dad's Cardiology office talking to my Mom who is his Office Manager there and some of the other girls who work with them and who have supported our family for many, many years... (my husband made me add the credentials so you know we're actually some what educated people here which you will no longer believe once you read the story below.)

Have you heard about the woman who in order to push up her uterus that was falling out (ie, YES, her baggage down below was too low!!??) inserted a potato to get by for an evening on the town, and forgot to take it out when she got home [all I can say is I have never had enough wine that I would forget to take out the potato I stuffed up my crotch] until weeks later when a horrid odor from that area forced her to go to a doctor and get an internal exam which caused them to find the rotting potato with vines growing inside her?

My husband says this is absolutely NOT a true story, and is equivalent to him shoving a broomstick up the tip of his penis and forgetting about it.. Total Bullshit... But my Mom swears this was a credible physician show where one of the experts on it was from Oprah, etc... I swear!! And yes, my husband sarcastically is yelling, "Well Fuck YEAH, of course, if it came from O-P-R-A-H then it MUST be true." [My husband is a cop and a skeptic.]

My life is just not that bad. And you can't go crazy about the things you can't control.

So whether my job is spared or not, I am trusting that my company will work with me as best they can... something they have a history of doing for its people, and the reason I've been with them for 13 years. And maybe I will be forced into not working for awhile [which has always been a hidden personal dream even though I am not sure how long I would last without the paycheck], and maybe I will seek a new career.

No matter what happens, I DO know deep inside, that for sure I can control the fact that I will never have a potato shoved up my crotch and growing vines. And for this, I will consider myself one of the lucky ones today. We can ALWAYS find things to be thankful for.

Happy Thanksgiving Blogger Friends...

BAG TAG, not tea bag, baby!!

I've finally been tagged for something. And of all things that I'm being asked to do, this is a doozy for me. I am a chaotically organized person. You will soon see what I'm talking about.


Here's what Dorsey over at http://searchingformyinnerskinny.blogspot.com/ calls a "BAG TAG"... And when I mentioned this to my husband earlier today, I immediately had to explain to to him that "NO HONEY, ... Dorsey's "Bag Tag" has nothing to do with TEA BAGGING"...

My God, men are always thinking about sex in one way or another, aren't they???


Anyway, here's what I am required to do:

1. Dump the contents of your handbag in a pile.

2. Take a photo of your handbag and the contents.

• This caused internal anxiety this morning, but I did it. I also used the opportunity to throw out all the used gum wrappers, old receipts, movie tickets and other crap that's been sitting in there for weeks, in the extreme situation that I might have needed any of it in some emergency or something.
  

3. Be brave and explain to your fellow bloggers what lurks inside the handbag.

• Wallet, cell phone, pen, tampon that I regularly pull out accidentally to use thinking it's my pen, tickets from our Philadelphia tour of the USS New Jersey ship 2 weekends ago, old movie tickets, lots of gum wrappers, one wrapper with wadded gum, shopping list, things to return to Target list, my daughter's gloves from soccer the night before, empty bank envelope in case I get some money to put back in it???, a loose button, earrings, 3 lip liners, 3 lip glosses, 1 Clinique lipstick I just bought but don't care for, and finally 5, 621 receipts all scrunched up so I won't be able to find them when I need them. Seriously there was a lot of other little shit in there, but it could get quite boring and extremely embarrassing if I continued any longer.

4. Tag others who might want to embarrass themselves.

I will tag the following five to join the club only if they have the time or feel somewhat more organized than me...it's not a hard act to follow, I swear:

• http://crashtestdummydiaries.blogspot.com/ - I just recently have become a regular of CTD. She has a motto "Only boring people have clean houses." I love that. I'd also like to add "Only boring people have clean purses."
  
• http://binksday.blogspot.com/ - OK, you should really follow this blog. If nothing else, just for her recent "R" rated posting. I love that I'm not the only one to talk smack like this.


• http://floridatransplant.blogspot.com/ - Just a Girl and Her Dogs is hysterical - someone back in the single life, who can talk humor, sex or major politics all the in the same day. And, I am betting her purse might be the cleanest on my list of picks. Hmmmm....


• http://blokthoughtsnmore.blogspot.com/ Shelle at Blokthoughts is another site I now consider a regular stalker of...and she has introduced me to a great many new blogging friends, so for that I thank her. She's also the inventor of the ol' "Don't you Hate It When..." contest which now I think I have my latest entry for: "Don't you hate it when... you get bag tagged on your blog?"


• http://jensjingle.blogspot.com/ My last tag will go to, once again, a new blog I have recently found and visited regularly, Jen at Jens Jingle. She has come up with a great holiday eating schedule to ensure you can gorge yourself at that Holiday Meal and ensure you don't gain weight. Gorge? Me? Perfect.

5. Now, I must answer these questions:

• Describe the contents of your handbag. See number 3 above... too painful to repeat.


• What's the most important thing in your handbag?: Debit card; lip liner and gloss; My get out of free spouse badge if I ever get stopped by the police.


• What's the most embarrassing thing in your handbag?: My tampon - but only when I pull it out at the Target register or in front of my Mexican waiter at Los Tapatios for lunch thinking it's my pen. OH...and the receipt from CondomKingdom for a $12.50 bottle of cherry flavored lube... I SWEAR, it was my first time frequenting such an establishment... yet another Philadelphia stop two weekends ago.

• What's the smallest thing in your handbag?Is there anything illegal in your handbag? A tiny button that belongs to I have no idea what piece of clothing. The lint mixed in with old loose cigarette tobacco fragments from when I used to smoke during nights out lining my current purse bottom should absolutely be illegal.

Have a mentioned no social smoking now for almost 3 months?? Yeah!!!

So for those of you now tagged, I'll be waiting for your pics. And in the meantime I'll simply be thankful that Dorsey didn't "Closet-Tag" or "Minivan-Tag" me. And even more thankful that I wasn't tea-bagged by the hubby recently. But then again, there's always tonight.

Oh God, I hope he doesn't read this for once...

A little more explanation of my not-so-spiritual psychic reading...

So now, I realize, I get the most comments on individual posts that I write while I'm drunk on red wine. Perfect. And for those readers who requested a little more detail on my somewhat "leading" post around SPIRITS... here ya go.

First of all, here's what other obviously "more spiritual than me attendees" got to hear from their personal readings:

• K.M. - Recently married. Blatantly told she was pregnant. Definitely. With a boy. She was also surrounded by her deceased father and a very good friend who committed suicide several years ago. Wow, the tears...


• L.S. - Her mother is around her all the time. It's her mom that is actually visiting in her dreams when she wakes up talking in conversation. Her father is ready to go...let him go. Her son will major in accounting and will go away to school - north. It is a good decision for him.


• W.F. - Will live a very long life - into her 90's. She will be a grandmother soon. At least 2 girls coming in the next 4-5 years.


• My husband - His grandfather is a very strong guide around him. His ex-wife will start to limit her controlling ways with us soon - she sees a small infant child around her [No fucking way??!!! This has been our secret evil wish placed upon her - pregnancy. There is a god maybe.] and this infant will calm her when it comes to dealing with us. Please, if there is any truth to any of this psychic bullshit, P-L-E-A-S-E let this be the one ounce of truth.

• Others Attendees: More relatives showed up, lots of tears appeared, and some pretty stunning exact numbers and dates were thrown out to individuals, including details on a specific car accident that caused everyone to breath and look at others in silence.

And then there was my reading.

I have a LOT of energy. But when it comes to spirits and/or guides, all of mine were obviously busy at the moment or they simply didn't get the invite to this damn event.

No feeling of anyone around me... aside from a faint feeling of someone old, someone generations away from me who didn't have the inability to speak. But it wasn't clear to her. And something with loss (hmmm...think anyone could relate to loss??? Seems a little generic to me...). Maybe a miscarriage? Maybe the loss of a relative? (Yes, miscarried twice, but I'm not feeling it, lady.)

Is my grandmother around? No, not sensing it. [What??]

Career changes? Not really. Looks like same old shit for the next 2-3 years. Everyone else in the room were either getting promotions, changing roles, doing something entirely different but plain ol' me is just hangin' pretty. Woo Hoo. I will take this as only one not getting laid off.

Final question: My Dad's Health. Not feeling anything. No health issues, maybe something with his prostate. (Um, sorry to inform you Lady but I actually sell Prostate Cancer drugs and know that any dad of someone my age has prostate issues. Again, way, way, way too generic.)

So there you have it. I suck so bad that spirits don't even want to hang around to check in. I will continue to say it was the wine, or that others maybe just need more guidance than me at the moment. Which one is it??? I'm not sure.

Individual sessions are available for $65. Whatcha' think???

Sucker?

Too Much Going On....SPIRITS????

OK, we just returned from a psychic party reading and I'm depressed because I have no obvious spirits surrounding me. I suck.

I will try to be back tomorrow.

In my own full spirit.

Gram...WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU????????????????

Another Don't You Hate It When...

"DON'T YOU HATE IT WHEN..."

...you attempt to use the new-to-you Nuva-Ring birth control in an attempt to be a responsible mom of four kids under the age of 8, only to wake up the very first morning "after" testing this lovely new contraption with your horned up husband simply to pee since you've pretty much had to since 3am but were too lazy to get up, only to hear your husband softly ask in a tone I can only describe as "fearful hesitation"..."Honey, what the hell is stuck to your right ass cheek?"

Do you think the Nuva-Ring effectively prevents pregnancy when glued to your ass cheek for 8 hours after sex?

I HATE when that happens.

PLEASE click on the http://blokthoughtsnmore.blogspot.com/ on TUESDAY, November 18th to vote for this week's best entry in Shelle's "Don't You Hate It When" contest...!!! I promise you will enjoy some good laughs and even be tempted to enter next month's contest!

Normal or Nuts?

Are my kids normal?

How come every time we walk through the local Blockbuster Video Store and view the New Release wall my children can not help but point out [and announce to the entire store] the DVD cover details of anything with boobs, butt cracks, cleavage or naked bodies ... I can not convey the hysterical laughter these covers bring to my children. And I can not convey the challenge of getting them to stop.

Why in God's name during the only one desperate time we needed to stop for a favorite bottle of red wine on our way home with the kids did there have to be a vendor display for them to gravitate towards front and center.. and even worse, WHY at a time when my 8 year old daughter felt so compelled to read signs for the rest of the gang, which at this moment caused her to ask my husband, myself and the 2 male cashiers no more than 22 years old, "Mom, What does SUCK and BLOW mean?"... Oh.My.God.

Why does our newly turned "5" year old son do body contortions of such unbelievable magnitude while buckled in the back seat on the way home from school to such a degree that I believe he would be classified as an advanced yoga or pilates instructor? I'm really serious. What the HELL is this?

Why is my 6 year old daughter so addicted to hoarding the TV remote control to the point of waking up EVERY morning in a panic race to beat her sister to the couch in order to posses it first and will take it into the bathroom with her if hiding it under the pillows does not allow her to feel 110% confident it will still be there on her return?


WHY?

To PUPPY or NOT TO PUPPY???

OK. Today, I am reaching out to my readers. Not that there are many of them, but we could actually double the votes available in our household with this. So I'm going for it.

Bichon Frise or NO PUPPY???

Situation:

Blended family. My two girls are 6 and almost 9. My step-sons who are with us almost half the time are 5 and 8. I think "puppy" was the first word out of their mouths when each of them were under a year old.

Task:

Convince my husband and I that this is a smart decision. We realize the unconditional love and joy puppies can bring to a house hold. We also realize the poop and pee accidents, the yapping in the middle of the night that occurs while crate training, and the fights we will probably have around responsibilities for the dog, which will most likely all fall on us.

Here are the FACTS:

Our current visitation schedule with all the kids allows for us to have every other weekend alone.

And in our house, with four kids ranging from Kindergarten through third grade, this is our survival mechanism built into our marriage. If a puppy wins out, we would actually have to "plan" spontaneous decisions to travel on these weekends, or question the ability to head out of town for a night just to get away. However, the sound of having a little tiny dog to cuddle up with on the couch and watch a movie instead of heading out might just be enough to persuade us to stay home.

My husband and I up to a week ago have always been on the same page: "We are not dog people."

However, I had a dog for years in college and beyond until she got sick. I really did love her and miss her dearly, even though it's been 15 years since she's been gone.

My brother just got a Bichon.

He sent pics. My husband secretly researched them online (I was familiar with the breed but he was not) and suddenly 2 days ago started initiating conversations to me about them, and pictures he'd found online, and how damn cute they actually were, and... need I go on???

The conversation to the kids went like this:

If we were ever to consider a puppy at this time, we would have to give up our Disney trip in April that we've been trying to plan for the past month or so and wait at least another year for it. We had a family meeting, and posed to the four kids that this is a democracy - they get to deliberate together and propose a plan to us; a plan of responsibilities needed in order for Mark and I to believe they were serious about taking care of a "puppy". It needed to be fair and it needed to show us that they were serious about the decision. Then, after their "presentation" over dinner, we would deliberate and take some time to come to a decision.

Their verbal "presentation" turned into a formal play in the basement. Check this out:

They were all hiding behind the louver doors, scripts in hand, and formally recited "why" they wanted a puppy, along with a list of 20 responsibilities they would own. They also gave US responsibilities to be fair (we have to feed the dog since they don't know how much food it needs).

They also together revealed our fantasy puppy's name which would be Diamond [nickname Dime] if it was a boy, and Isabella [nickname Bella] for a girl. They even closed the sale and asked for the business. Damn, they were good.

So now we are in the midst of deliberation. (If a breeder came to our door right now with a Bichon in hand, it would be engulfed within seconds.) I said yesterday to my husband that I feel like this is our way of having our own "child" together since such thought and consideration is taking place on this joint decision - talk about responsibilities, and more talk around possible names and why we can't call her "Grace" or "Jake" because it reminds one of us of someone we went to school with or dated in the past.

And since breeders do not just end up on doorsteps, we will fight the urge to contact the local breeders we've found through good friends who have years of experience with Bichons. We will instead continue to torture ourselves with puppy stalking fantasies we now see and hear everywhere, until we can believe we are the point of making a rational decision.

SO PLEASE let me hear your thoughts... either support the animal bonding, or tell us we're fucking crazy. Your vote counts in this household! And by the way, you can always throw in a name suggestion... just in case.

Puppy? Or No Puppy?

DAMN. There are no other words.

I took this picture at the Syracuse Zoo during a field trip with my daughter's entire 2nd grade class.

This was our first animal display as we entered the zoo. Now imagine 75 or more eight year olds gasping in mid-sentence, gripping onto the fence in front of them with knuckles as white as snow, while most of them appeared to be injected with instantaneous fear...

Damn.