slackin'

HAHAHAHAH!



i have a funny story to share with you. let me get to it tomorrow so i can post the pictures and what not.

(don't get too excited. things are usually funnier to me than they actually are)

Why do YOU drink?

We all have our reason. Some don't drink, they eat ice cream. Some meditate. Some count to 10. We all have our go to's for certain things. Today I'm doing drinking. Mostly because I'm trying to dry out. This bloated catfish thing is NOT a good look for me.
So here's a list of types of drinkers and their reasons.

Frat boy: Drink till she's cute

Mom: Drink till they're quiet

Dad: Drink till you can't think about work anymore

Husband: Drink till she gets to the point

Wife: Drink till you're horny

High School student: Drink till they think you're cool

Bum: Drink till you're warm

Performer: Drink till your stage fright goes away

Alcoholic: Drink till the shakes go away

Socialite: Drink till you flash your Hoo-Ha

Best Friends: Drink till you're crying

Business Meeting: Drink till they stop ordering

Mel Gibson: Drink till they pull you over

Catholic: Drink till the priest stops pouring

Mormon: Don't drink

Christian: Drink till you stop judging others for drinking

Jewish: Drink till you find out it's not Kosher

Anyone who got offended by any of these: Drink till the stick falls out of your ass

Product Distraction *updated*

Wow, has it really been 3 days since I blogged? Holy cow. Well I've got lots of things cookin' over here. I'll tell you about it, just not today.

I woke up at 3am this morning and couldn't go back to sleep. Funny the things that run through your mind when you're trying to lull yourself back to sleep. Something made me think about preparation H and it's effectiveness at getting rid of puffy eyes. Then that made me think about if that would be an embarrassing thing to buy or not. So long story short I've come up with some ideas to avoid the embarrassment of buying certain products. Because let's face it, we still get a little uncomfortable when we plop down our tampax on the conveyor belt.

1. Tampon/pads
Purchase with red wine, brownies from the bakery, and a copy of The Notebook.
2. Preparation H
Purchase alongside concealer, powder, makeup sponges and kleenex
3. Lube
Purchase with  Geritol, a 40th birthday card, and a magnifying glass. Giant print crossword puzzle book optional.
4. Condoms
Purchase with a plastic rain poncho.
5. Douche
Purchase with a gift bag (same size as douche), tissue paper and a bow. Birthday card optional.
6. Enema
Purchase with water balloons.

Am I missing anything?

I just thought of another good one for tampons. Buy them with black gloves, a rope, duct tape, and large garbage bags.

Wrestling, math and a mommy time out

It's true. I got sent to time out. By my husband.

Rewind to a few hours ago. I planned on making hamburgers for dinner. Daddy and I asked the kids MULTIPLE times. "who wants a crabby patty?"  Neither one of them. 1st one said " I want cereal" Poof! I have him cheerios. 2nd one said "I want juice" Poof! I gave her juice.

DING! Burgers are done. I only made 4. I did the math.... 2 adults eating... no kids eating. Ok, I'll make daddy a double, I'll eat a single and we'll have 1 left over. In reality the equation is more like:
question:  There are 4 hamburger patties. 3 patties get eaten. 1 is leftover. How pissed off can your children get because they changed their minds and decided to eat them?
answer: VERY.
My daughter caught the problem quickly. So I made her a burger. Now there are no burgers left. That's ok right? The little man ate cereal after all. He's probably full. WRONG. WRONG. TRIPLE WRONG.

We had a full on autistic MELTDOWN. We're talking WWF RAW throwdown. Head thrown bad, blood vessels bulging, and low, blood-curdling-growling  scream. (think Guns N' Roses 'Welcome to the Jungle', only less melodic) All he was missing to complete his WWF act was a microphone, spandex and knee pads. All I was missing was my "John 3:14" sign.

WTF? Am I a god damn mind reader? I thought that when he said "no", that he meant "no". I'm not a frat boy after all. *take a minute to figure that one out if you have to*

So I might have, sort have, kind of snapped at him. I might have dropped an F bomb and I might have used a higher than normal decibel level only to add to the already catastrophic tantrum entering the ring. FML. Hubs said "Where's your glass of wine?" I said "in my muther effing hand" he said "down it, or go to your room and take a time out".   I said "I'll take a time out". I grabbed my glass, my computer, what was left of my patience and stormed in my room. I slammed the door but it was totally on accident because the window was open.

Now here I am, drinking, blogging my feelings out so that when I walk back out there the announcer will say "AND FIGHTING IN THE MOM CORNER..... LISA "THE LUSHY" MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTHEEEEEEEEEEER!" and then the ref will ask us to have a nice clean fight at which point I get out the baby wipes and hand sanitizer. I'm a mom like that.

Bear Food

My husband and I were discussing backpacking the other day. I was asking about bears.
He told me that if you ever encounter a bear you should either lay down in the fetal position and not move OR try to make yourself look bigger by raising your hands and lifting your backpack over your head.

Look, I don't know about you, but if I'm hungry and I see a hamburger I'm going to try to eat it. Especially if it was running and now it stops. Bonus if it can make itself bigger.

This sounds to me like Bear Propaganda. They might have a man on the outside. Smoky perhaps?

Green Eggs and Ham

I love ham. Especially for breakfast. With eggs. Love love love it. I could never understand why that guy didn't want to try Sam's green eggs and ham. I'm forced to believe it's for religious reasons. Maybe he was Hindu, or Jewish (can they eat pork?) or Muslim. Let's say he's Muslim.  Some religions don't drink, some don't commit adultery, some don't eat pork. Whatever. R.E.S.P.E.C.T. the religion. So we'll call him, Tim. Tim the Muslim.

Now, of course.... if you're Muslim, ham is a no-no.  Now let's say Tim is sort of a, on-the-fence Muslim. Maybe he's tried bacon before. It was probably an accident, like someone put some in his omelette. He probably loved it, but because he loved it so much he felt super guilty about it. He's probably really vulnerable to a relapse. Maybe Sam knows that.

So now we have Sam waving this plate of ham in front of Tim's face. Tim probably thinks Sam is the devil and is here to test him or something. But Tim is not an idiot. He knows that ham is not supposed to be green. How appealing can this be? ~~~~~>


Upon further inspection Tim probably thinks Sam wants to poison him. He thinks Sam is looking for an alibi so he's trying to get him to eat it with a goat on a boat or in a house with a mouse or in a box with a fox. That way Sam's name stays clean. By the time they find Tim's body in a box, or in the ocean, or in that house Sam will be long gone to Mexico. But what the hell did Tim do to deserve this?? If it's because of his religion there are much better religions to poison first.

Tim is getting pretty upset now. He's fed up, he just wants to be left alone so he can read his newspaper. Sam is sweating bullets wondering how the hell he's going to get this aged, mutated, possibly poisoned, or salmonella laden pork off his hands.

I'm going to tell you a secret though. Here's where Sam made his critical mistake. He didn't offer Tim any cheese. Anyone who eats ham and eggs knows that you can't eat it without cheese. HELLO! Denver omelette anyone?
"I'll take 'ultimate toppers for $400 Alex"
"On ham and eggs, it's a melting pot"
"what is 'cheese' Alex"
"Correct! for $400"
Even Jeopardy knows that.


If Sam had just offered up some green cheese he could have sealed the deal by page 4. Religion or not, no one can resist the awesome power and might of cheese. Every woman knows you only look as good as your accessories. This accessory, my friend, is the perfect accompaniment for green eggs and ham. Get it right Seuss.


click me once!!!

Champagne Cocktails

Listen up people... this video is four and a half minutes long. In the world of online entertainment that is a LONG time. Sorry. It's hard to edit videos after you've sucked down a gallon's worth of booze.

To all my non-boozing followers.... don't feel left out. I've got something for you guys coming soon. =)

if you can't see it here and need to go to youtube then click here

Recipes:

50/50

orange juice

vanilla vodka

whipped cream vodka

champange

Berry Daquiri Champagne

strawberry juice

lychee liquor

pomegranate liquor

chambord liquor

cointrou liquor (i don't think i spelled that right)

squeeze of lime.

Combine above ingredients in a shaker with ice. shake

Put 3 raspberries in a champagne glass, add shaker contents (no ice)

add champagne.

get drunk.

Apple Pie Champagne

apple juice

goldschlagger (there is not way to say that word without sounding drunk)

champagne

Kind of a Kir Royale Champange

chambord

raspberries

little squeeze of lime

champagne

Cranberry champagne

lychee liquor

cranberry juice

champagne

Women need women.

True story.

Brazen Apron meets
Home C.E.O.

Women need women. We need to bond and connect and support and help and take care of other women. I had the amazing opportunity to meet one of my favorite bloggers IN PERSON. That's right. In the flesh. Let me just say that The Brazen Apron is aptly named. She is feisty, sassy, saucy, straightforward and highly intelligent. She put up with my nervousness (which means I interrupt constantly. Sorry A.) and was friendlier than a JW at a new neighbors house. She's the kind of complex creature that you just want to absorb all her energy and splash it all over you. She is super cool. Of course, I'm cool too.... I brought wine to our first meeting.

 

Drinks with R., the B-day girl

The other day I had another opportunity to spend quality time with one of my home girls. I took her out for belated birthday drinks. We talked, we drank (we are really good at doing that together. We're 3 bottle friends), and we bonded as women. This woman always has a smile on her face. Her motto in life is "I just want to have fun". Who can argue with that? She works full time, has a little boy, made it through a remodel with her sanity in tact, and continues... to keep a smile on her face. I love spending time with her. She reminds me how simple attitude is. Attitude is simple, but it's worth a lot.

I don't spend nearly enough time with other women. I wish I did. I wish I knew more women. There is something to be said about the benefits of quality time with them. I'm not talking Real Housewives type of women. I'm talking about real, honest women. If you have women friends, meet for coffee, go out to lunch, take your kids for a walk. Spend time with each other. It is so important. I mean, we blog, we Facebook, we twitter, we email, but we don't see and connect nearly enough.

So phone a friend and invite her over for mimosas. You never realize how important real, tangible friendships are until you don't have them. Take care of your friendships. Nurture them, water them (with booze, obviously), give them sunlight and love. We're the only ones who really know what we're going through.

Go, bond with your women friends.

Dear Beer

Dear Beer,

Thank you for being so cold on this hot day. Thank for so graciously sharing the limelight with the juicy lime (no pun intended) that is floating in your bowels right now. Your wonderful bubbles helped digest my awesome fish tacos. (We may have to talk about your sweating problem though) 


You are like an umbrella on a rainy day, a tissue during "The Notebook", or a towel after a swim. You were there for me today. I love you beer. Your sleek neck, your open spout, and your see-thru bottle.... You are so damn sexy. I find that the more I drink of you, the more I fall in love with you. Never leave me, Beer. I will follow you to the ends of the earth and back. 


Oh no, Beer, what are you doing? Why are you losing your cool?? Drastic measures must be taken... *GULP, GULP, GULP*   Ahhhhhhhh. I'm sorry, Beer. I couldn't sit here and watch you get warm. I could not, WILL NOT, see you in such a state. Thank you for the tingles, the giggles, and the burps.

I love you Beer. Forever and Always, you have my heart.

xoxoxoxox
Lisa

ultimate pina colada

Please disregard the state of my hair. If i tried to make it perfect I never would have got to the drink.

I have a dream

Remember when you were little, and you would dream about being a princess? (or a stripper or whatever) Then as you got older and started dating you would fantasize about what it would be like to be married? You envision the dress, the guests, the handsome husband... all that. Then you met a guy you were really into... and then you couldn't stop dreaming about your wedding to him.

Ok so now your married to stud muffin. Now you're dreaming about having... a baby. Awwwwww, a little baby. A little DNA mixer of the two love birds. You picture the nursery, the baby clothes, walking them to the first day of school. Then of course you have toddlers and you start dreaming about the day the graduate and move out.

AHEM, moving on.....

So this is what I dream about..... Owning my own home.

*Backstory*

My husband and I moved to Santa Cruz on the notion that we would only be here a year. We always planned on leaving. 8 years later, we're still here. It has become home to us, but we still feel like we're only here temporarily, so why the hell would we buy something?

Back to my dream. Every house we've ever rented I've fantasized about remodeling it. Now look, I'm not an idiot... I know better than to remodel a house. (My friend is STILL taking medication after her remodel) It's just the idea of owning it and doing whatever the F I want to do to it.  I want a house with a yard. Front AND back. I want an entire room dedicated to the love of laundry.  With a sink, a counter, storage area and this.  I want a kitchen that is not cut off from the living room or dining room. I could go on and on with my specifications. So I'll stop there.

Hubs says "what would you do differently in a house we owned than what you're doing to our rentals?" What is he talking about? Well.... I've sort of done a lot of painting. All the bedrooms, the living room, the upstairs trim, the ceiling downstairs, and one of the bathrooms. I've also hammered many nails into many walls. We've installed shelving into closets, laundry rooms and living rooms. We've taken out closet doors, changed out blinds, and changed numerous light fixtures. He's right. What would I do differently short of a remodel?

Now, I know what you homeowners are thinking "it's not all it's cracked up to be". You're right. I have the benefit of calling the electrician/plumber/appliance man anytime something goes wrong, and the bill gets sent somewhere else. The only time I pay is if it was something that was the direct cause of something we did. We don't have to pay HOA's. We don't pay for the windows to be redone. etc.etc. We pay our utilities and rent.

Wait, so let me get this straight, financially I live like a rental.... but physically I live like I own the joint. AM I INSANE?!?! I want to rent forever! Nevermind, it's not a "dream" so much as it is a "delusional vision".

(I'm glad we were able to work through that together. Thanks for holding my hand)

Not an ultimate margarita

Dear crazy grandparents at the beach

*disclaimer*
I am HEATED about this. This is a full on bitch rant. You've been warned. 


Dear Poppy, and grandma (at least, that what the 18 month old was calling you)

The sand is FUCKING HOT. Your grand baby is not crying because she is a brat, she is crying because the sand is burning through 2 layers on her thin baby skinned feet. You look like careless, abusive, idiot jagoffs. When I went over to you to suggest the sand is hot and maybe you should help her out [I opened up with "this is non of my business.... BUT,"] because my 5 and 7 year olds were doing the hot sand dance, you blatantly ignored my plea. I hope you break your fucking hip you heartless bastards.

Sincerely,

A lady who is going to buy your granddaughter shoes.

NO joke. After the grandpa said "no she's fine" I walked away. Then I heard all the other beach goers pipe up "c'mon grandpa! The sand is too hot!" and what not. She was barefoot, in a bathing suit wearing a sun hat. Every time she tried to take a step on the hot sand she screamed bloody murder. WTF?!?!   You're going to tell me that that's OK? That's "she's fine" when obviously she isn't? I'm HEATED PEOPLE!! TOTALLY HEATED ABOUT THIS.

*on a side note. My daughter forgot her shoes. I gave her mine. Halfway to the car she said she was OK and that I could have my shoes back. What a toughie. Then again, the girl hates to wear shoes.... EVER. Does anyone else find pairs and pairs and pairs of shoes and socks in the car? Why? We're in the car 5 minutes and she's already peeling everything off her feet. I'm like, We're late because I waited for you to get your socks and shoes on. Now we're more late because I have to wait again for you to put your socks and shoes on AGAIN. ugh. Why can't they make shoes like they make mittens? With a string that attaches them to the belt or something.

Top Ten Items for the Beach

Top Ten things you need with you when you go to the beach with kids:

Beach towels. OBVIOUSLY. I always bring an extra + a hand towel.

My friend Michelle taught me this one. Baby powder gets the sand off body parts. Awesome mom tip.

Look, we're not getting any younger and sunblock can only do so much.

PACK YOUR TRASH.

Bring plenty of reading materials.

Snacks. Here's a tricky one. I don't pack snacks. If they get hungry, we leave. Feed them before you go.

Binoculars. DUH, for the DILF's at the beach. Oh, or to find your kid. Yeah, that one too.

Bring plenty of water. Dehydration is no joke.

Spray on sunblock! This is my favorite.
Goopy sunblock + sand = disaster

Isn't this a given?





Leave at home anything that requires a second bag. (unless you have a second person to carry it) You're going to the god damn beach, not a weekend away at grandmas.

Odds and Ends

I had a really controversial topic today. I'm not doing it because it's not really my style. I prefer to talk about controversial things in person. Where I can get a good debate volleying back and forth between some idiot who doesn't know what they're talking about and the person I'm talking to.  I LOVE controversy. The trick to these discussions though is actually hearing your opponent out. You HAVE to listen to their side completely.
There is your lesson for the day.

When I was thinking about my plan B blog topic I started browsing my drafts. Bits and pieces, ideas jotted down, that sort of thing. So I'm going to put them in here. It will make NO SENSE. These are actual drafts: (It will be obvious why they never became full posts)

• "Botox"-[YES, I was going to do an entire post on my love of Botox] I love Botox. LOVE IT. Super love it. I only do it twice a year and I only do my forehead.  I leave the spot above my eyebrows alone because if you know me, you know my face is VERY expressive. My eyebrows being the most active........
• "My House Has a Revolving Door"- Remember when having a revolving door in your house meant you were slutty? Now it's just means you have lots of company. 6 weekends in a row I've had house guests. Considering turning my pad into a B&B. I know what you're thinking "gee Lisa, with all those house guests you should have more funny posts". And you're right. Unfortunately they all read my blog. So I can't write about that......
• "I Hate 3D"- I thought maybe I could take the kids to the movies. Yes! Movie theatre right next door, playing times.... ooh! In 10 minutes, let's roll kids! Sorry ma'am. The 1pm show is in 3D. (and will cost $358) The 2D show doesn't play for another hour and a half. SERIOUSLY!?
• "Urban Legends"- *finished laundry *clean car *kids that eat healthy *debt free *normal neighbors

So there. My "get out of blogging free" card for today. It's a quilt of a blog post. A smorgasbord of bloggy thoughts. Bits and pieces that otherwise would never have seen the light of day, or the caress of your beautiful eyeballs. Yeah, I know. It's a weak excuse for a post. Cut me some slack, I haven't even had coffee yet. Biatch. 

 

*Hubs is finally home! So what, pray tell, will I be doing?? Going out for drinks with my girlfriend. Because I EARNED IT. *

A question I was asked

"why don't you blog about your son's autism more?"

You know, I've thought about his. A lot. I have TONS of drafts about him and his autism. I've read lots of mommy blogs who deal with autism. I live in this world DAILY. Yet I don't share it with the outside world.

 He was my first born, so I've had nothing to compare him to. So to me, there's nothing different about him.  I don't think of it as an affliction, at all. I think of it as a hall pass. An awesome hall pass to get into amazing schools, get special attention, get a leg up with all these and have a doctors note.

I think every child has special needs. EVERY ONE. My daughter, doesn't have autism, is she higher maintenance than her brother? Ummmmmm, YES. I have more trouble with her than him.  A lot of people say "well he doesn't look like he has it".   And what exactly would that look like? Because he DOES flap his hands, he DOES stare out into space and he DOES walk on his toes. But he doesn't do that stuff all the time. There are triggers for those things.  Or this one "he seems normal to me". He is normal. Very normal.  The difference between him and everyone else his how his brain processes information. That's it. So no, you wouldn't see that. You couldn't tell he was autistic upon meeting him right away.

Since he is higher functioning people say "are you sure he doesn't have aspergers?" Yes. I'm sure. He has his own autism. It can't be compared to anyone else's. Yeah there will be similarities with others, but ultimately, it's his own.

We have "autism" issues every day, but I also call that "life". Shit happens, you do what you can, then you move on. Simple. Blogging every day about autism, for me, would be like  blogging every day about watering my plants: unnecessary.

I know some people have it harder than me, some people have it easier than me. But what it comes down to is raising my children. You deal with each child differently. They have their strengths, they have their weaknesses. That's why I blog about being a mom. Raising my crazy kids, running my household....blah blah blah.

Autism doesn't define us. It is not an elephant in the room. It is not a road block. It is LIFE. And that is what I choose to blog about.

Welcome to my bar

Take a tour of my bar, my double chin, and loud kids in the background. 

It's actually a metaphor. The whole reason why the bar is there, is because

of the screaming kids running around my house all day. 

Excuse me?

I promised my kids we would walk to the beach today. Lucky for me it has been SOOOOO overcast. It's given me time to clean and FB and stuff like that. So I'm walking around doing the THIRD round of picking up my kids toys. SE looks at me and says "Mom, I have a great idea. I'm going to sit on the couch and watch you clean while we wait for the sun to come out"
........................................
I'm going to type that out again, just for clarification.

Mom, I have a great idea. I'm going to sit on the couch and watch you clean while we wait for the sun to come out.


Is she insane? Where is her straight jacket? Did she sneak into the liquor cabinet? Did she find my flask? Did she find her way into some magic brownies? She must be high.

It actually took what felt like 5 minutes to process this information, sort my rage, and decide how I would explode at her. And boy did I explode. It went something like this.

*one hand on hip, one had shaking the vacuum attachment at her*
" Are you serious right now?!? YOU THINK IT'S OK TO SIT THERE AND WATCH WHILE I CLEAN UP YOUR MESS? WHAT PLANET ARE YOU FROM? DO YOU THINK I LIKE CLEANING UP AFTER YOU?? I DON'T! IF IT WEREN'T FOR YOU[being messy, not her in general] I  WOULDN'T BE CLEANING THIS MESS, YOUR MESS! THESE ARE YOUR TOYS. NOT MINE. THESE ARE YOUR CLOTHES, NOT MINE. THESE ARE YOUR CUPS AND BOWLS, NOT MINE. WHY DON'T YOU GET UP OFF YOUR ASS AND PICK UP AFTER YOURSELF???"

and the mother of the year award goes to...... not me.
But look, I was freaking fed up at that point. I don't want to raise spoiled brats who think they can just make a mess and have it magically disappear. That's one of the reasons I got rid of the dog.

On a plus side- do you know how fast both of my kids shot up and started cleaning? I'm not proud of the fact that I blew up at her. I'm glad I did though. Sometimes they need to be reminded that they need to be responsible too. They're old enough to be cleaning up after themselves anyway. (at least, that's how I'm going to justify it in my head) They are 5 and 7. That's plenty old to pick up your damn toys and mix me a cocktail.

What to do, what to do

Anyone who knows me, knows I'm not the most proactive parent around. I do stuff with my kids... but it's not consistent. Lately I've been trying to find really inexpensive ways to entertain my children. And wouldn't you know it, I've found A LOT of inexpensive things.
I'm going to do something very out of the ordinary right now. I'm going to tell you what I've been doing, things I have planned and kids activity ideas.  Believe me- after these activities... my kids PASS OUT. Yours will too.

1. walk. Crazy huh? We walk everywhere. We walk to the farm, through the redwoods, to the farmers market. I'm trying to get them used it. Trying to take them for longer distances to build up their stamina. Walking them wears them out more than the park does. Bonus- I don't have to put up with other people's asshole kids. 
2. Ikea. 45 minutes of FREE babysitting. After I drop them off, I find a nice living room, sit down and read my book. Maybe even take a nap in one of the bedrooms. Then I'll check my Facebook on my laptop at a really nice home office room. Bonus- when we're done, I feed them a hot dog for 50 cents each. 
3. The airport. Parking is usually $10 for an hour. It's already full of chaos, so it's not like your running, screaming kids are going to be noticed. Let them "ride" the horizontal escalator. (what the hell is that thing called??) Back and forth, back and forth. They never tire of it. Also- there are a lot of shops open before you hit security. For a small price you can buy them a pack of gum. What kid doesn't like gum?? Also, airports are fairly large.... so they have to walk. A LOT. 
4. Feed the fish.... or the birds, or the ducks. We live near a "lagoon" it's a preserved wetland and it has this walkway in it. In the water live tons of fish. This is a great way to rid your cupboards and bread box of old food.  Feeding the fish and letting your kids run laps around the nearest lake while you read a book is a great time. 
5. Find a local farm and ask them if they can show your kids how farming works. Your kids will get an educational experience, learn the value of hard work, and you may get some free greens out of it. Bonus- If you help.... you'll get a chance to work on your tan. 
6. Weed pulling. This is easier than you think it is. You tell the kids that mutant grass is growing and it's going to take over the lawn/garden/walkway. Only a few people are born with the ability to pull them out of the ground. You wonder if they have the ability. You are shocked and amazed that YOUR children have the power. You make them promise to only use their powers for good. Bonus- children's gardening tools are very inexpensive. They love tools. 
7. Waterballons + mailman = FUN. Make sure you have a 2 story for this one. Never aim it AT the mailman. Always to the side, front, or back. If it is an exceptionally hot day... he will love it. He will chuckle and give a little wave. You are awesome for keeping the mailman cool. 
8. Swimming. Tell your kids there are invisible sharks/eels in the water. They will swim and kick and paddle till their little hearts leap right out of their chest. Great exercise for them, great tan for you! *toy snakes optional*

So there you have it. Just a few ideas for the long summer days. 

Do you even OWN a mirror?

You know when you see a lady walking around and her clothes are too tight and her rolls are hanging out and you think to yourself, "jeez lady, did you even look in the mirror before you left the house?"  and you just assume all she has is a little bathroom mirror so she can only see from her décolletage up?  I mean, how can someone go out looking like that? At least put on a looser fitting shirt or SOMETHING. She has more rolls than a bakery.

Well, I'm here to tell you that she does own a full length mirror. She is aware that she has gained weight so her clothes are too tight now. She is PAINFULLY aware of how many rolls are sealed up in cotton and that shirt IS her looser fitting shirt. I know this because today, I WAS THAT WOMAN. 

I was even wearing my girdle/yoga pants. In all black as to lessen the blow to onlookers eyes. My "big" t-shirt I put on over it? Tight. *sigh* This is what happens when my mom comes to visit and I survive on a bread/wine diet. Unfortunately for me, I will not be shooting a movie any time soon where I play a British underdog singleton waiting for my Mr. Darcy.  

So yeah. I went out in public looking like the kind of lady you yell "spandex is a PRIVILEGE! NOT A RIGHT!" when you see her walking down the road. (Hey, at least she's walking in spandex. It's not like she's wearing them and sitting on the couch eating donuts.)  It was embarrassing to say the least. I'm not going to let it get me down though. We all have our less than stellar moments. At least now I won't be so quick to judge women wearing tight clothing.

Now, 18 year old girls with a body that should not now, not ever be wearing low rider skinny jeans.... I will judge like it's rapture. 

The story of us.

Since my Beloved has been gone for a week and will be gone until Friday I thought I would share with you, Our Story.


Just so you know, I typed out the whole story and it was 1,000,000 words. This is the mini version.

I was 23. I went to Vegas. I met HIM. He was 34. We spent 48 solid hours together upon meeting. I knew 5 hours after meeting him that he was the man I would marry. Discussed getting married then and there. Decided against. I was living in San Diego, He was in the Bay area. The following weekend I flew to Bay Area. Spent an incredibly romantic weekend with him. 3 weeks later, he proposed. 2 weeks later I packed up my life, left my friends and family behind and moved in with him. 5 months later I was pregnant. 4 months later we were married. 8 years later we are still together, with 3 children. 1 his, 2 ours. Happier than ever, more in love than ever, and better friends then we ever were. He is the love of my life, my dream man, and my soul mate.

(I've never been able to tell that story so quickly. I must remember this.)

So there it is. A passionate, whirlwind love affair.

I had to get that out there so that I could get it off my mind. Now I can go back to writing ridiculous stories about my kids, and bad drivers, and crazy family members.

Pissed

Sooooooo, while doing laundry I found something awesome. When I say "awesome" I mean AWESOME. Fan-freaking-tastic. I was loading the washing machine and while pulling dirty clothes out of the basket I was greeted by this smell. Pungent. Strong. Stinging the nostrils. Gag inducing. We're talking DEFCON level 3.

One of my little darlings SATURATED something in URINE. (possibly multiple things) Then hid the evidence in the bottom of the laundry pile.... some time ago. One word: DISGUSTING.  I threw the offending articles of clothing into the wash and went straight to the bathroom to wash my hands. Then I took the laundry basket outside to clean that out.

Fast forward one hour 30 mins. The clothes have been moved into the dryer and working on getting dry. I go outside to retrieve the laundry basket. Our dryer vent is next to the front door. So what smell was I greeted with when I opened the door? DAMP URINE. (Because really, what's better than regular, dry, stale urine?) Not to mention my vent is blowing it  all over my neighborhood. I went to the dryer and checked on the clothes. AWESOME. The urine clothes didn't get clean. They took the entire load of laundry down with them. EVERYTHING stunk. All of it. I just bathed a load of laundry in urine. Old urine. Stale urine. Disgusting urine. I was pissed. (Pun intended)

Evasive action taken: rewashed with warm water, bleach, extra soap, the sign of the cross, double chest tap, finger kiss, peace sign to the sky. It totally worked.
I'm pretty sure it was the double chest tap.

show this blogger some love.....

Snapping out of it

Why haven't I been posting? (I'm completely convinced you guys actually care and might even have been worried. *side note- have you guys ever noticed how terrible my grammar is? and my usage of mixed tenses? Guh. I need to take a creative writing class)
Anywhooooooo...... I've been MIA because I've been in these really bummer moods lately.  Every time I go to write something it starts with "Dear Diary...." and ends up being some sad, sappy journal entry that talks about my feelings and other boring stuff. I'm trying to shake all that stuff off. This post is my attempt at doing that. If I start to whine, or complain, or get negative... then slap me.

School is out so I've been busy, doing that thing.... what's it called? When you have kids, and you raise them? Starts with a P. Puh pah poh puh puh ppppp...... PARENTING! That's it. I've been busy parenting. I forgot how much work it is. What's on our schedule for today? A long walk to the farm. A long, tiring, walk. Followed by, a nap? *fingers crossed* if not a nap, then maybe a 2 hour kids movie so I can nap on the couch. (my favorite past time. no joke) Then I get to do my second favorite past time.... clean. I'm totally joking.
It's my third favorite.

Big Daddy comes home tomorrow so we have to get the house ready. Truthfully, it never got that out of control. Nope, I had my shit together. I was totally imagining pizza boxes on the floor, cheerios covering the couch, empty wine glasses and coffee mugs strewn everywhere. Mystery smells, dirty kids, my 5 o'clock shadow.  Nope. It was surprisingly.... normal. Damn. Nothin' blog worthy about that! I had house guests so it forced me to, you know... shower.  Sweep, vacuum, do dishes, cook meals! That sort of thing.  Damn. Damn you normalcy. DAMN YOU!!

get over it

Once you get over yourself... it's actually a lot easier to like yourself.

True story.

My mom is in town

Look, My mom is here while my hubs is away. That's why I haven't been posting. I've been busy shopping, running errands, going to meetings that no one showed up to but me, and drinking. Oh, and recovering from drinking.
Speaking of drinking (when aren't I?) here is video for your enjoyment.
My husband and I COVET stand up comedy. Pete Coreale is one of our all times favorites (top 5 is him, Jim Gaffigan, Demetri Martin, Louis CK, and Mitch Hedberg ((RIP)))

So go... view this, laugh... and cheers to you, my dear sweet reader. I wish I could reach out and stroke your hair and thank you for stopping by and giving my blog your love.

1 Reason I'm glad he's gone.

As you all know, my husband is out of town. In Germany. For a week. Then he leaves for 4 days. I'm not going to get all sappy and sad. To prevent this from happening I like to think of things that he does that drive me crazy. Here is one:

Every Monday this is what I see. The gas light on. Big Daddy, you mean to tell me that you didn't see this ALL WEEKEND?? YOU were the one driving! I ask him "do we need gas?"
He says "no" which DIRECTLY translates to: the light is on, but the reserve has 30 miles so we're fine. We've never run out of gas so technically he isn't doing anything wrong.
Look honey, I love you, but I HATE starting my week with an empty tank.

*sigh*

Sarah-Eve nonsense

My Daughter is Sarah-Eve. Not Sarah, it's Sarah-Eve. No we do not live in the south.
She is a funny thing to communicate with. Let me show you.....
SE, crying says: Mom! Aiden took the pens out of my hands!!
me: Why did he do that?
SE: I was giving them to him and he took them away from me!!
me: So what's the problem?


SE asking me question after question after question, getting me very close to the brink of a nervous breakdown.....
I say: "I can't play "the diner is closing, take your ticket" right now! I'm making dinner and cleaning ok?! do you understand that?!?
SE: jeez mom take it easy
Oh my god, she was the one getting all crazy because I wouldn't play with her.

She was using a canvas shopping bag as an apron. Her and Aiden (my son) were fighting over it. I got the scissors and made 2 aprons out of the bag. Problem solved? Sort of.
SE: There is no room for my baby!!!!  This is not the most awesome thing ever!!!
me: I'm totally writing this down before I forget"
SE: no mom! You don't understand! This is the worst day ever! YOU'RE NOT EVEN LISTENING TO ME!! GET OFF THE COMPUTER!! I'm having a very bad day!

She is so dramatic. I have no idea where she gets it from.

Last night I said to her: Sarah-Eve, my wine glass is empty. Do you think you can get me more wine?
SE: Of course I can! Thanks for asking me mom! You're a good mom for letting me get you more wine. I like doing jobs for you mom.

 *shed a tear* She's going to make a very good best friend one day.

co sleeping

 When Daddy is gone, my kids sleep with me, this is the best case scenario. (I'm not as good an artist as Lola but you get the point.)
So this was last night. Not bad. Not bad at all.

This is a worst case scenario. My youngest spooning me off the bed, groping my breasts and drooling on my arms.  In the words of another very funny woman I know,  Annie: "Clearly there is some sort of magnetic or gravitational force that attracts a sleeping child to its parent when they are sharing the same bed, until the parent is perched precariously on the edge of the mattress while a vast expanse of unused sleeping space exists, wasted, on the other side of the child. This force increases exponentially with each additional child in the bed."


I couldn't' have explained it better myself.  Even after 2 glasses of wine.

They sleep in their own beds tonight because I'm not taking any chances with a worst case scenario. 

Birthday Cookie

My son's class celebrated June birthdays today. His birthday is in June.
He got a HUGE cookie for it. My daughter was pretty jealous, to say the least. She was hinting and asking about the cookie. I kept telling her to leave him alone because it was HIS cookie.

After a few silent moments she says to him "I don't think you can eat all of that cookie. It's just too big"  Having that statement not completely hit him yet, he says "NO, I love this cookie! I'm going to..... HEY WAIT A SECOND!!! I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TRYING TO DO! YOU'RE TRYING TO SNEAK UP ON MY COOKIE TO EAT IT!"

Oh the cleverness of her.

Earlobes and Belly Buttons

 This is my baby girl. Getting her ears pierced for the very first time. She was so excited to get it done. I told her she was a big girl now and that alone was enough to make her smile for hours. We took her to the shop, let her pick the earrings, and put an eye mask on her. We told her they were going to glue the earrings in.

All done. That wasn't so bad was it? She said it hurt. I told her the girl probably pinched her ears too hard when she pressed the earrings onto her ear. There were some teenagers there waiting in line... They congratulated her on being so brave. They proceeded to show her their multiple earrings.... and belly button rings. She gave me a look like "you're not going to make me do that are you?"

Happy girl. Lollipop. Pierced ears. Done and Done. How about some ice cream? Sure. How about going out to lunch? OK! How about a family trip to the movies? Fantastic!  What a big girl you are! She was so happy about her new earrings. She was so happy to have pretty sparkly earrings like mom. She was so loving, and cuddly, and happy. She loved them! I felt so happy. Worlds best Mom!! My first daughter, her first ear piercing. It was a magical day.

Until night came. 

She accidentally banged her ear on the door jamb. Guess what happened? Her earring came out. I tried to get it back in but it was already closing up. I yelled at her (oops) and told her to sit still while I tried to stab her ear again (FAIL).
I possibly traumatized her for life (again).

Finally Super Dad stepped in. "Lisa- there is a better way to handle this".   We sat her down and listened to her side of the story. It went something like this:
(remember, she turns 5 on friday)

"Mom, Dad. I'm not a big girl. I'm just a little girl. I can't have earrings until I'm a grown girl like mommy.  I'm too little right now. I can't have it. I'm not big. But one day, I'll be a big girl, and I can get sparkles for my ears..... and my belly button"

I SHIT YOU NOT.

While the Cat's away.....

My husband is leaving town for a week. Of course I'll miss him, but by the time I do finally miss him, he'll be back already. So I'm making a list of the awesome things I'm going to to, or not do while he's gone.


1) Make dinner at 4pm.  He usually gets home super late, so we eat dinner at 8 or 8;30. and that cuts into my nighttime TV time.

2) Go to bed at 9. Crazy right? I relish going to bed early. I have no need/desire/reason to go to bed any later. My kids wake up at 7am every morning so, why would I stay up late?

3) Skip dinner for at least 3 nights. I have no problem eating sandwiches/hot dogs/salad for dinner. I don't even have a problem eating breakfast for dinner. Luckily, neither do my kids.

4) Skip cleaning. At least that 5pm mad dash around the house to make it look like you spent all day cleaning. yeah, I'm totally skipping that.

5) I may have the kids keep me company in my bed ol' bed. But they have to EARN it!

6) Two words: Male Strippers  (I realize that this is twice now i've mentioned male strippers in my blog. Don't over analyze it)

7) I am going to watch a chick flick EVERY DAY. Maybe even TWICE a day. (I'm talking about you, Burlesque)

8) I'm going to catch up on my shows. I missed the muther effing OC finale last night. This just means I'm going to have to catch it on a rerun. DON'T TELL MY ANYTHING. I want to be surprised.

9) I will still sleep on  my side of the bed. Mostly because that's where the groove is that I've made. If I slept anywhere else I would roll right back down in it anyway.

10) I'm going to wear my granny panties EVERY.DAY. because they are so comfy, and I won't need to be sexy.

11) I am going to work out every day so that when he comes home he'll be all "wow honey you look really good" and I'll say "I know, you should leave more often"
(I'm totally kidding honey. I know you're reading this) ((actually, #11 is a total lie, but I'm going to tell him I did it)) (((wait, he's reading this right now... crap. Well now he's not going to know WHAT to believe. muahahahahahaha))) {no, he'll definitely know I didn't work out, he'll be all "I see you were on the wine diet while I was gone" and he'll poke my belly button and I'll go "hee hee" like the pillsbury dough boy}

So there it is.  My list of to-do's and not-to-do's.

I might be addicted

Confession: I've been juicing. A lot. I'm talking.... A LOT. I don't think I have a problem though. I can stop whenever I want to. If I wanted to I could, I can.
I haven't always been like this. I've had the juicer awhile but it has spent much time in the cupboard. I rediscovered the juicer one day while I was looking for my fondue pot. And I said to myself "self, you have some vegetables that are on the verge of being thrown out, maybe you should juice them up"
And so I did.
Then I said to myself "self, this isn't so bad. Maybe you could buy more vegetables and juice those too. Self, maybe you could get creative"
So I took myself to the store and bought $200 in produce. It didn't last long. Then I stole money out of my husbands wallet to buy more fruit. I can't get enough and it never lasts long enough.
I'm getting hooked, and when you become hooked, it doesn't matter what it tastes like. grapefruit, tomato, celery? Sure! Kale, lime, nectarine, strawberry? Why not? Watermelon, cucumber, spinach, apple? Make mine a double! I've been juicing everything in this house. I've been sneaking to my neighbor's yard and stealing their shrubs. My neighbors are wondering where their roses went. I'm getting neighborhood watch flyers on my door asking if I've seen someone taking people's landscaping. I'm hiding in the house and peeking out the windows watching for their cars to leave. Then I make my move. I can't stop, I need the greens. The guy to the left of me just bought a Doberman and a motion light.  What they don't know is that it's only making me more stealthy. My hands are shaking even as I write this. My mouth is salivating.... oh look, the sun is down. Excuse me while I slip into a ski mask... the new lady down the street just planted an orange tree.....

The Physics of Wine

I got this idea from Paula Poundstone. She does this bit about how it's so easy to eat an entire box of pop tarts. I would find the link but that would mean more time on the computer and less time with my kids. On second thought... let me go track it down....
No! I gotta stay focused.
So here it is. How you end up drinking a bottle of wine.

The first glass you pour is usually a larger than normal glass.
After the first glass you feel nice and warm and fuzzy, loosened up. You think, "I like this feeling, let's feel this feeling some more"
So now you pour your second glass.
Ahh yes, let the texting/facebooking/blogging/tweeting begin.
Glass number three actually slips in while you're not looking. You're mid status update and realize your glass is empty. You don't even think about what number you're on. Just that you're still thirsty.
So you pour glass number troi.
Well now you're left with a small amount in the bottle, can't leave it all alone
in there right? Not worth pumping all the air out.
At this point you pour glass number four. Which is really just a tiny bit. Not enough to even call a full glass. (You tell yourself this to make yourself feel better)
You consider opening another bottle. Decide against it because after all, you are pregnant and you want to go easy. .
I'm totally kidding.

So there you have it, how you consume a whole bottle of wine. You can't argue with science.

Just give it a little clickity click click

Incantations

On my front gate:

OBVIOUSLY my kids don't realize that 

people used to get burned at the stake

for doing this kind of shit.

lookin' for a good read?

Are you getting the picture? A good read is a blog I thoroughly enjoy. Since I don't make rules for my blog I will just post these.... well... whenever I damn well please I guess. 

Today is The Brazen Apron.  She writes, she runs, she bakes AMAZING cakes (so she claims.. i'm still waiting for mine in the mail), she stays at home with her daughter and consumes large amounts of coffee and booze. Sometimes separate, sometimes together. She chronicles everything funny and interesting. If it's not funny and interesting, her amazing writing ability can make it so. 

 Check her out. You'll laugh, you'll learn something, and you'll probably feel worse about your own writing.  She's hard to hate because she's so likable. (auto correct said lick-able... i'm sure that only happens when she's BWI. Baking While Intoxicated.) 

My favorite (it was HARD to choose) is the one about the gynecologist. prepare to possibly be offended, for sure entertained, guaranteed to laugh.  

I am TOTALLY a genius.

I get a lot of good ideas in the shower. And not just about waxing, self tanning, spanx or dieting. Although come to think of it, i might do a post about self tanning. *there is no such thing as bad self tanner, only bad application* stay tuned.

Anyway,
Like I was saying..... about my brilliant ideas and what not. This latest came to me in latest shower. It started off by me thinking about self tanner. Which got me to thinking about the Jersey Housewives (if you need to brief yourself click here)  I had a dream about them last night. That's besides the point. Ok, getting back on track....

You  know how people have book clubs? And every week you have to read a book, then have a "club meeting" to discuss the book? Wait for it .........

Real Housewives Show Club

Huh? HUH?? Brilliant right?!?! Every week you watch the show, then get together with your bitches friends to "discuss" that week's shenanigans. I'm a genius right? No, I am. No, Really. Just call a spade a spade. Or in my case, a genius. 

This is how it works, every week you watch the show, then meet at someone's house, and everyone has to bring one snack and one bottle of wine. Any wine leftover (as if) will rollover to next week. (which is why the party can't be at my house. The wine won't make it to the next week. I'll convince everyone we drank all the wine and that there was none leftover. Everyone will have to believe me because after all, I'm a genius, not a lair. I've been trying to use my powers for good, not evil. So don't tempt me with leftover wine.) 

So there you have it. #257 in my series of "Brilliant Ideas That Come Here En Shower"

or B.I.T.C.H.E.S. (it's French. Obviously)

Who's hosting the first party?

By clicking this box you acknowledge

that you want to vote for me. 

Because I am awesome? perhaps.

A quote

"One mommy blogger alone, is like a single thread. Many mommy bloggers supporting each other is like many threads woven together to make a sack in which we dispose of the bodies of our enemies."   ~Home C.E.O.

My kids love me

It's true. They totally love me. Well, they're still too young to know otherwise. But still! Today I was having a blah blogger day. Nothing cool, or funny, or weird happened. Seeing this frustration in me (was it my constant back and forth eyes from the bar to the clock?), my son did something awesome. Something, totally blog worthy.
It was like he went out, wrapped a blog topic in pretty wrapping paper and then placed it's perfectly folded box into my lap.

At any rate, my darling children requested my presence outside for some sidewalk chalk time. I acquiesced their request (thank you elizabeth swan). We drew and colored. I was covered in chalk dust.  I looked like I got in a tug of war match using a bag of blow.  Once the blow dust blew away and we could see again... there, in the ground.... was my son's gift to me. Unbeknownst to him.

G.L.O.R.I.O.U.S.

His sweet little voice asked me "Mom, how do you like my mushroom?" 

I told him it looked like his mushroom was a grower, not a show-er.  

*editors note: my mom was totally "aaaaggggghhhh!!!!" when I explained the whole 'grower' vs. 'show-er'   

**look it up at urban dictionary   If you have high blood pressure, are on any heart medication, if you have a full stomach, get nauseous easily or have uptight tendencies... 

consider yourself WARNED.