I lapsed into rude

I am thinking this is what my stepfathers parents were thinking when they came over, uninvited this morning. I was still in my pajamas, having been doing laundry (I personally detest getting dressed just to clean), and the house was a mess from me going through the girls winter and summer clothes, to get rid of what would no longer fit. So you can imagine my annoyance at having to entertain two guests that I most certainly do not think much of. Especially two guests of whom I know will report back to my mother everything that they saw. There is no doubt in my mind that they were here at her insistence. While my stepfathers mother is abnormally rude, thinking that old age should allow her to be a hateful person, his father tends to try with manners.

So, they were able to see Alice, as Thumbelina is at her fathers for the weekend. Alice of course, sitting near me and I having to remind her to be polite. She tends to fiddle with me when she's uncomfortable, as she is now around them. I think they must have quickly realized that it was not a good time, as they didn't stay long, and I have to admit that I was glad to be rid of them as they make me horribly uncomfortable and I do not feel I should be so in my own home. I must also confess I was on the first disc of Colin Firth's Pride and Prejudice, which my explain my manner of "speech" in my typing. ;)

A-SS-HO-LE

Matt and I are having fun going through our Youtube accounts lately, can you tell? So, here is the one that brought a smile to my face tonight. Dennis Leary is a lovely Asshole. I'd do him.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=no6-vsHgHJg

Why, yes! It is my life goal to torture you!

I just tried my hand at french braiding Alices hair. I've never done it before. I am NOT posting photos of that, but I have to admit, for a first attempt, I'm proud of myself and she loves it. Oh, you want to see photos, don't you? Damn it. FINE! IT'S AWFUL! AWFUL I TELL YOU!






Stop.Laughing. Seriously. Stop laughing. I hate you. :p

Blank Pages Just Haven't Been Written On Yet

I Need Crazy Block!

Apparently my mother changed her number. Must have realized I blocked her? Damn it. I was sitting on the couch beginning to watch the pilot of Lois and Clark (hush, it's 17 years old and I loved it in all it's cheesy goodness!), when the phone rang. I didn't know the number, so I let it go to voicemail. It was my mother calling to tell me about one of my aunts who is having heart surgery. Now, I know most people would care, but this is the aunt whose only concern about her son molesting me, was how quickly she could shut me up, so she stuffed me in a mental hospital. At the age of 10. Apparently, 10yr olds lie all the time about being molested? Now, the best part is, when my sister and I cut our mom off, she still hated this woman with a passion.

I guess your daughters calling you out on your alcoholism is enough to make you want to have a relationship with the rest of your psychotic family?

I feel lost

I find myself hearing my husband say something, reading something, or just really anything, and wanting to run and tell them, but it's not possible. It's going to take some getting used to it, to move on fully. I'm not letting it ruin my days, but it's there, in the back of my mind, ruining me. One of my foster fathers once told me that it takes a good year to get over a break up. I think that might be true for normal people. I'm not exactly normal though, am I? I love deeply and I hurt deeply. It's always lasted longer for me. Is it because I dwell on it? Because I am not an open person, so that when I do open for someone it hurts harder?

On top of that, I'm still kind of angry. That's one of those 5 steps to emotional healing, right? My anger isn't from that anymore. It's from the lack of being able to defend myself and get the damn truth out there. Honestly, no matter what I say, it will be twisted by those already twisting it, so that's the reality. It would lead to more hurt feelings and more anger, so I am choosing to let people think what they want about me, and I am finishing up my 5 steps as quickly as I can.

Chocolate Milk "Tea" Party

We have our alarm clock set on a certain station, so that we are awoken each morning to the soothing sounds of classical music each morning. This morning, however, the station decided "shock and awe" was appropriate, by playing the loudest music possible. Evil bastards. I wanted to go back to sleep, snooze just once, but the girls were apparently awake, and LOUD in the playroom. I get up, brush my teeth, and drag my sleepy butt into the kitchen to make waffles. They both come flying in, screaming "MOMMY!" and giggling their heads off. Both dressed like princesses (or in Alice's case, the anti-princess princess). Apparently, princesses do not comb their hair. 2 hugs later, I ship them back off to the playroom so that I can cook the waffles. The waffle maker gets really hot and lets off steam, so I don't want them in the kitchen with it.

While waiting on their waffles to finish, I get the bright idea to let them have a tea party, but I don't want to give them tea, water is boring, and plain milk is for everyday. "Chocolate milk will be perfect!" I shout, throwing my pointer finger in the air. Not really, it just makes it sound more dramatic. The tea cups are on the dreaded second shelf. Have I mentioned I am short? At barely 5'4, most things are out of reach. Matt was in the shower, so he was out (he's 6'5. He can reach everything. Why do you think I married him?). I drag my chair over to the cabinet, climb on top, and grab the cups and matching saucers.

For the most part, the kids loved it. Alice only begging that I never put these photos online where her friends might possibly, one day, who knows when, see them. Oops.... BAD MOMMY! BAD!

Thumbelina:


Alice:


Hugs!


Thumbelina, who wants to be called Snow White when wearing this dress:


And Alice, begging me to never upload these photos:


Oh, does anyone have some laundry soap I can use? How about a can of good starch? Ugh. I need to hit the store.

Kidisms, saved from Babycenter

"Thumbelina, wash your hands, it's time for dinner!" "I'm not eating mommy!" "We have mashed potatoes" "Well, I'm eating that!"

"Thumbelina, wash your hands, it's time for dinner!" "I'm not eating mommy!" "We have mashed potatoes" "Well, I'm eating that!" save nevermind

I'm not very naughty. Just a little bit naughty. - Alice, age 6, in response to Santa doesn't bring toys to naughty kids.

I'm not very naughty. Just a little bit naughty. - Alice, age 6, in response to Santa doesn't bring toys to naughty kids. save nevermind

"Oh Pickles" Thumbelina, age 3 whenever we say no to something

"Oh Pickles" Thumbelina, age 3 whenever we say no to something save nevermind

Thumbelina has picked up the phrase from the OVU commercial and screams it everywhere: "MAKE THE MONEY!!!"

Thumbelina has picked up the phrase from the OVU commercial and screams it everywhere: "MAKE THE MONEY!!!" save nevermind

Thumbelina, age 3: "Mommy, do you know how to use da carwash?" "Yes, Thumbelina, Why?" (Confused) "Mommy, you car is berry dirty." All this while driving down the road. Yay.

Thumbelina, age 3: "Mommy, do you know how to use da carwash?" "Yes, Thumbelina, Why?" (Confused) "Mommy, you car is berry dirty." All this while driving down the road. Yay. save nevermind

My 2yr old was at the sitters while her dad and I were at work when a huge storm came up. She started crying and when the sitter asked what was wrong? "da big storm gonna wash way my mommy an daddy an I never see dem again!"

My 2yr old was at the sitters while her dad and I were at work when a huge storm came up. She started crying and when the sitter asked what was wrong? "da big storm gonna wash way my mommy an daddy an I never see dem again!" save nevermind

My 5yr old threw up her fourth of July hotdog in mid bite and started crying. When we asked what was wrong, she screamed "It Looks like PENIS!" Is it wrong to burst out laughing when your child just threw up?

It Seemed Truly Fitting For Me

"In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends."

- Martin Luther King Jr.

Sometimes, Life Gives Me Hope

Waiting on my husband to get home from work, dinner ready to go as soon as he pulls up (Seashell spaghetti tonight), I decided to sit down and rest. I've been online today, but no where near the amount that I have in the past. Today was a "shut up and clean" day. I washed all the bedding (hung dry) and 3 loads of clothes. Beds made, clothes are ironed, folded/hung, and put in their correct spots, I cleaned the kitchen, dusted, and still need to vacuum. Eh, Matt manages a vacuum store, I'll have him demo his skills when he gets home.

So, back to that sitting and resting thing I mentioned! I pulled up Yahoo! News and came across this article. About a girl, who at the age of 9, was given a seedling. She took that seedling home, and what grew was nothing short of amazing. A 40lb cabbage. It's not the largest cabbage on record (according to the article, that's a 55lb one), but it's what this 9 year old did with it that brought a smile to my face. She donated her cabbage to the local soup kitchen. That cabbage (with the help of some ham and rice) helped feed almost 300 homeless people.

Now here is where the story got even better (and gives me hope for the future). Katie is now 11, and started her own charity. Because Katie believed that if she could feed 275 people with just one cabbage, what could she do with more? Her non-profit, Katies Crops, currently has 6 gardens that are grown exclusively to help those in need. One of her gardens is the size of her local schools football field. Volunteers, along with Katie and her family, take care of the gardens, giving out weekly vegetable baskets people who will benefit from them. At harvest time, they collect over 1,000lbs of crops and donate to the local soup kitchens.

The heart of this one little girl is big enough to think beyond herself. Her selflessness gives me hope.

Bittersweet

I spent part of the morning reading my past blog posts. It was bittersweet, because I remember it vividly while reading, but honestly, had forgotten so much. Like the months in the winter where I was sick for so long. After reading, I remembered the pain of the sore throats, the ear infections, the stomach viruses. Sounds like a wonderful trip down memory lane there, doesn't it? I also remembered the cupcakes I made for my cake class and was glad that I took photos to remember. I laughed again at the fact that my instructors name was also Kendra, though this one didn't grab my boob at our first meeting. She waited until our 4th (kidding, my instructor never grabbed my boobs) I looked at photos of Matt scraping ice off his car, only to drive on ice to get me something to eat, just because he loves me (and probably was hungry himself).

I also noticed I need to start proof reading. Spell check doesn't catch stupid. My brain goes faster than I type (considering how fast I type, that should tell you something), and I found myself looking at words out of context. I'm super emotional this past week (Ruby Ruby ruby ruby so-ho!), so nostalgia waged war hard.

Back to clothes again. 1 load in the dryer, 1 in the washer, 4 more to go. It's bedding day in my house. Luckily the sheet and spreads can dry outside.

Song Headache

While finishing up dinner, this song got stuck in my head. It was so horrible, that I started belting it out in the middle of the main course (baked sockeye salmon). Of course, then Matt had to join me, which lead to the kids looking at us as if we had lost our minds. Our rendition sounded nothing like like the cast of Glee. I can fully understand why the song won't leave me alone.

Photobuckets Tech Support Sucks Donkey

Ever since Photobucket did their last update, my photo editor has been wonky. As in, unless I am in full screen, I can't edit crap. If you work with PB editor, you know there are many things you can't do in full screen mode. Finally, I emailed them today after growing frustration of not being able to do things. It didn't take long for me to hear back from them. Their email simply stating that any issues I have to take up with Fotoflexer, and until it's fixed, to just use that site directly. Really FB? That's your advice? Gee... Thanks for the help!

That rant out of the way, the Fotoflexer site worked wonderfully and allowed me to create what I have been wanting to do since I decided to leave BBC. You see, when your account is deleted, your posts remain, and whatever picture you were using for your avatar remains forever. I really didn't like the one I had, so while the french loaf was rising, I tweaked it:



I thought the play on words was pretty cute. Maybe a little bit too Ryan Seacrest now that I think about it.... Oh well, too late!

I Think He Has NO Faith In My Cooking Abilities...

I was sitting on the couch, waiting for the tea to finish steeping, chatting with a friend, when the timer goes off. As I am walking to the kitchen, my sleeping husband jumps up, runs into the living room and goes "Where's the fire?!" Really honey? I have to admit it was a bit hysterical seeing a guy his height jump out of bed and come running that quickly.

He supposed to be going to the store to buy a whole salmon for dinner tonight, but at it's 1:37pm right now, I'm not sure that's going to be happening. I should start looking for baked salmon patty recipes. As of right now, I only know how to fry them. I also need to get Church Girls baked buttermilk chicken recipe. My mouth waters thinking about it.

Edited: It's 3:15 and he went to the store for the salmon. He swears he's going to thaw it on the back porch. It's 100 degrees out there with a 106 heat index. It might wind up cooking out there...

Princess Hairstyle, Attempt One?

Recently I came across the blog Princess Hairstyles and immediately thought "There's no way in hell I can do that!" Then immediately after that thought "Hey, I just cleared a bunch of free time in my schedule, why don't I practice on my guinea pig, I mean daughter!" Today was attempt number one, and I have to say, this was something that I already knew how to do, but I put each one together to make the cute, but simple look. Alice loves it too. She keeps walking by the mirror to admire herself.





One day, when I am feeling brave, and have a lot on hand to bribe my children with, I will try the more intricate styles.

I'm not nice, I just play that on the internet

Do you ever just want to scream? I do, especially right now. It's been a long week and that scream would be a scream of release. It would be loud, long, and powerful. I used to do this all of the time when I lived in Asheville, at one of the group homes. I would run into our field of hay and just scream for fun. Sounds a bit crazy doesn't it? What if I tell you there was a really cool echo? Well, there wasn't. It was just the sound of screaming into an open field at 13/14 years old that made it fun. Screaming into a pillow doesn't have that same kind of helpful release.

My Mommy Sense Is Tingling

A bit late of course. I realized today that the teacher I wanted Alice to have this year is the one she's begging to not get. Not because she doesn't like the teacher, but because she despises the teachers aide. It's the same woman that was the aide in her 2nd grade class. That woman was nothing but a headache. One big bad frustrating headache. Apparently she pegged my daughter a problem child, but when I would talk to the regular teacher, she would have no idea what I was talking about. If it was just us, I might wonder if we were being over sensitive, but it was actually the majority of the class and their parents that had problems with this teacher. Now as much as I want my daughter to have Ms. Morgan, I feel like I have to email to ask that she NOT get her, just so she doesn't have the evil teachers aide.

Being a parent is hard. Frustrating. Always wondering if you are making the right choices. I just can't see forcing her to face a problem like this in 3rd grade. I think it's too early for that lesson, and could wind up making school a hated place.

The Haunted Place

In the greenest of our valleys
 By good angels tenanted,
Once a fair and stately palace-
 Radiant palace- reared its head.
In the monarch Thought's dominion-
 It stood there!
Never seraph spread a pinion
 Over fabric half so fair!

Banners yellow, glorious, golden,
 On its roof did float and flow,
(This- all this- was in the olden
 Time long ago,)
And every gentle air that dallied,
 In that sweet day,
Along the ramparts plumed and pallid,
 A winged odor went away.

Wanderers in that happy valley,
 Through two luminous windows, saw
Spirits moving musically,
 To a lute's well-tuned law,
Round about a throne where, sitting
 (Porphyrogene!)
In state his glory well-befitting,
 The ruler of the realm was seen.

And all with pearl and ruby glowing
 Was the fair palace door,
Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing,
 And sparkling evermore,
A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty
 Was but to sing,
In voices of surpassing beauty,
 The wit and wisdom of their king.

But evil things, in robes of sorrow,
 Assailed the monarch's high estate.
(Ah, let us mourn!- for never morrow
 Shall dawn upon him desolate!)
And round about his home the glory
 That blushed and bloomed,
Is but a dim-remembered story
 Of the old time entombed.

And travellers, now, within that valley,
 Through the red-litten windows see
Vast forms, that move fantastically
 To a discordant melody,
While, like a ghastly rapid river,
 Through the pale door
A hideous throng rush out forever
 And laugh- but smile no more.

Edgar Allan Poe:  1839

I'm A Mermaid Too

This is not my secret. I found it today on Post Secret. I normally read on Sundays, but we were busy and I forgot. Thumbelina is sitting beside me and I was once again putting off the vacuuming and folding. I remember as a child I always pretended I was a mermaid, and secretly, even now, at 28 (just like the secret sender), I still pretend in my head. My daughters would think their mother was insane.

(Shhh... they don't need to know they would be right.)

I Have The Most Wonderful Life

No, really, I do. I wouldn't call it perfect, but I would say that I am very happy in my life now. I have friends I love, two beautiful girls, and a husband, who while annoys me, is someone I would call my own personal Edward Cullen. My Edward doesn't sparkle, is 34 in December, and happens to not be a vampire. Plus, he prefers Honda to Volvo.

It wasn't always like this. I've been having nightmares about my ex lately. I know it's because of his birthday that just past. It normally passes and I don't even think of it, but a good friend had a baby the other day, and when she came close to giving birth on that date, it reminded me. Then the dreams came back. The ones that are so realistic, you wake up still feeling the phantom pains of where he would kick me while I was on the ground.

Once I start remembering that, I start remembering the rest. The bad from him, from my parents, from foster care. I remember being raped at 15, multiple times by the same person, because my house moms didn't care. They said I asked for it. I remember starting to believe it was my fault and holding that in for years. I remember being beaten and put down as a child. I remember being told I would never amount to anything. I remember being treated like scum of the earth, for no reason more than because I was in foster care, through no fault of my own. I remember being hurt over and over and over again. I remember having that positive pregnancy test in October 2007, and how the only person who cared about what happened was my wonderful husband. He still remembers, he doesn't forget. I would never compare it to the loss of others, of friends, but it did hurt.

I wake up sick to my stomach and spend the day feeling the same. My friends, though we mostly talk online, without knowing it, help me feel better again. Help me laugh. Realizing how wonderful my life is now does too. Don't get me wrong, my wonderful life sometimes leaves me throwing cheeseburgers at the wall, but I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. I will NOT use my past as a excuse to be horrible to ruin my present as others before me have done. I will use it as a stepping stone, not a crutch. Because I am better than that. My past is not an excuse to play the victim. It's a reason to be strong.

Darn that stupid princess

I found this today while looking for Princess Peach fails. It's Sunday, I have nothing better to do. (Clean? What's this "clean" you speak of?)

You are a Dumb.... SHH! You Can't Say That!

I was out at my husbands aunts store today (catch that? My aunt in law). We had to return an outfit my MIL bought Thumbelina, which was too small. We also bought a few other adorable items. This store is a mecca for spending my husbands paycheck. I spent some time talking to her while she spoiled the hell out of Alice and Thumbelina, when I realized it was lunch time and we needed to leave . So, we walk back out to where I had parked. This is Main Street, USA, so it's all parallel. This guy was parking in front of my van, and when I got behind the wheel, I noticed his lone bumper sticker.

I'm white, straight, and republican. How else can I piss you off today?

I'm including a link to a similar sticker below. All I could think was "really dude? Are you really a jackass, or do you just play one on the road?" No one is pissed off that you are white, straight, or even Republican. They are pissed off that your sticker makes you sound like a racist homophobic ASSHOLE. You just go ahead and assume otherwise. No changing stupid.

*I'm a stupid moron sticker*

Bragging About Alcoholism

I don't understand the moms who brag about being alcoholics. Who think it's funny to brag about how much they drink and that people should just "shut up and get over it". Maybe they do have a problem and humor is just their way of dealing with the horrible path they chose? I can't imagine anyone actually thinks it's cool. "I'm a bigger alcoholic than you!" is a phrase that brought bile into my throat today.

Alcoholism is funny. It's not a joke. Many people have been affected by this issue. I'm not talking about the selfish alcoholics, I'm talking about the people surrounding them. Their friends, their families, their co-workers, neighbors.... Those people. The ones that are innocent to it all. The children who have to watch their mothers in ICU and wonder why they no longer care anymore than her skin has turned yellow due to her failing liver.

I don't mind drinking. I do it once in a blue moon. I drank at my wedding, my friend Nat making awesome mimosas, when I met my grandmother for the first time, she made me a wine spritzer which was awesome. I even love pina coladas when going out from time to time. Many things are fine when doing it in moderation, but when you start bragging about being fall down drunk almost every night? Please, seek help. Don't let your children suffer the way we did.

http://www.aa.org/

You Failed. It was cute that you tried though!

Ever feel like the world is out to get you? As if you do everything you can, but something always comes along to fuck it up? That it will NEVER stop? That you will never escape all that you feel keeps happening to you?

Then you know how I felt about that pizza last night, and how I felt when my husband took it back up there and made them fix it! I know, all that drama over a pizza. It was just the topping to what started going downhill on Saturday. We ordered a pizza from Pizza Hut (there are no good joints in this town) and Matt brought it home, only to find that 2 slices were just cheese, there were only 3 slices of mine and a few of his (we had it done 1/2 meat lovers and 1/2 green pepper, onion, and pepperoni). This was a stuffed crust pizza, and apparently, they forgot that part too. There was only hollow dough.

So we called, hoping they would start a new one so he could just switch it out, but no, they had to INSPECT the pizza first. Really? He already said he was bringing it back up there, but whatever. The stupid manager tried to argue that the cheese melted out from the crust. Really? Does that normally happen? I didn't think that it did.... Finally, she had to make a new pizza, and he watched her like a hawk the entire time, because it was obvious she was pissed off at having to do it, and we didn't want the "free" toppings.

So, you failed at your job lady. It was cute that you tried though. Tonight, Beef stew.

Just Another Manic Monday

Thank God it's not Sunday... Come one, you know you just read that to the Bangles tune. If you didn't you are younger than me. If you are younger than me, your music sucked. :p KIDDING! I'm totally a child of the '90's. Born in 1982, I caught the tail end of the 1980's, for which I should be grateful. I do admit I look great in neon though.

I think after my blowup this weekend, sugar fixed it all. Oh? I didn't tell you about my blowup? It's a bit embarrassing. I had a "Can't mommy every come first?!?!" moment after the kids went to bed. Saturday night. It all went down hill from there. It started over food and ended over food. No sour cream, cold french fries, fly lands in my salsa I didn't get to touch, for some reason my pizza dough comes out more like cake batter, despite being a recipe I've used before...

My darling husband who put up with all of it, fed me a slice of Orange Dreamcicle cake he went out and bought for me and then let me snuggle in his lap. I woke up happy and excited to start my day this morning. So, this would be why I am so happy it's no longer Sunday!

To My Beautiful Baby Girls:

I love you, even when you are annoying the crap out of me. Like now. You have a playroom, go play in it. Mommy is not your personal jungle gym, despite your belief that I am lying about that one. Please stop running to me, just because the dog touched your hair, or because you want to play different things and it's not fair. Guess what my beautiful baby girls? Life isn't fair, and all mommy is going to do is smile and tell you to figure it out for yourself. Mommy is not always going to play mediator, sometimes, you need to find a solution for yourself.

Here is what Mommy is going to do: Mommy is going to fix your lunch. Then I am going to fold the clothes, vacuum the rooms, sweep and mom the kitchen, before starting on the lasagna and Italian bread. Of course, you will not appreciate it, but I want you to know, I still love you.

Mamma Mia, Here I Go Again!

I made a pizza! The first time I have used my bread maker since it took a flying leap, for no reason, off my kitchen counter in the middle of the mixing cycle for the french loaf. I had to tape the lid closed, just so the light would go off. I'm awesome like that. The kids were bugging me, expecting me to feed them AGAIN (what, breakfast isn't enough?), so I thought I would get creative, and by the sounds of silence, inturupted only by "This is better than Pizza Hut!", I think I did well. What? Decent pizza joints are few and far between in the south. The nearest one is Amalfis pizza in Statesville. New York hasn't got anything on those boys.

The only thing I might have done wrong is to go a bit, overboard. I cut the damn pepperonis into hearts. I AM SUPERMOM!

How Did This Happen?!

I blinked, right? That's the only reason I can think it happened so fast. I also laugh at the smaller differences between just yesterday and today. Just yesterday it was June. Just yesterday I was dreading the fact that the hottest months were to come, after already reaching 102 in the middle of June. I blinked and it because July. A July where the temperature has a been a cool 77; weather.com says the humidity is at 64, but I don't feel it. I am even opening the windows to feel the cool breeze. For the first time in weeks, the kids are playing in the cul-de-sac, not staying in the house to avoid dying outside. I shouldn't allow myself to be so happy however. In looking at the 10-day forecast, it seems today is just a calm, before the heat attacks again.

Evil, evil bastard.