Son Of A .... She Made A Duck Face!

I had to take a picture of Alice for Girl Scouts tonight. Just a simple head shot for all the "what if" scenarios that we hope never happen. I took quite a few to get the perfect one. Sadly, one photo I caught just as she was pursing her lips...



This is the first truly terrifying photo I have ever taken. AHHHH!!!! We finally settled on the one below, no questions asked. Could you imagine an 8 year old duck face plastered across the six o'clock news? Please pray we never have to use a photo like this of either of my babies. Yours either.

"Happy Anniversary, Now Let Us See The Kids!"

The title is the message left for us this morning by my stepfather. He called Mr. Peaches phone, but unfortunately (for him? Not us!), the phone was dead. The message was a bit wordier, but broken down, that was the gist of it. "Hey Mr. Peaches, it's stepfather. Uh, we just wanted to call and wish you guys a happy anniversary and were wondering when we might see the kids. Maybe come back and see what Thumbelina wants for her birthday."

Um, yeah, right.

Wedding Shoes

Today was my 10 year reunion. I skipped the main two events, but had my Trojan Man and the kids in Statesville by 9:40am to tour my old school. It was wonderful seeing everyone again, especially Amanda. I missed her so much! I know I missed seeing other people because I skipped the park and dinner, but tomorrow's my anniversary, and we have plans.

Have I mentioned that the tore the really old part of my school down? The part that was completely wooden, even the lockers? I wanted to cry, but I have to admit, the renovations turned out to be better than expected. The school really stepped it up and has become very supportive of the arts programs. So much attention was put into the theater rooms, I am jealous! They even have dressing rooms for the students now with the bright "I'm a superstar!" mirrors and lights. I expected to hate the auditorium, but the renovations were mostly updating the stage lights and things to make for better productions. Amanda, Lane, and I got up on stage, hamming it up. Amanda and Lane actually jumping off. I was too chicken in high school, and still am now apparently!

Did I mention the school now has a dance room? Floor to ceiling mirrors and ballet beams. They bus in students from the county next to mine to take dance there! You can also attend the school for 5 years, leaving with an AA degree. Tell me that isn't something wonderful? I feel that in some ways, we missed out.

When we left the school, we headed to Amalfis to eat. My first real job, waiting tables. I loved it, and loved the food. Mr. Peaches and I split a large stromboli. By split, I mean I ate 1/4 of it. Thumbelina liked the cheese raviolis, but swore mine were better. Alice is still raving about the "real" pizza. We have nothing but crap in this town, so she was enthralled. After that, I took them to Lakewood park, the park I spent many a childhood days in. Even Mr. Peaches agreed that it was beautiful. I miss home so much.

We are back home now and Alice is still trying to wrap her brain around the fact that her mom was in fact, young once. Mr. Peaches is sleeping. I am typing here, waiting until 5pm to wake him up for us to go out. Thumbelina is at her fathers. She wanted to stay, but he would miss her I'm sure. Thinking about what was going on during this time last year, I got nostalgic about my wedding shoes. I have worn them once, but they still sit under my nightstand, where I see them daily. I remember Mr. Peaches sending me out to find them. Promising to watch the kids for hours so I could. I had so much trouble and had drug them so many places, imagine everyones surprise when I arrived home in 20 minutes, the perfect shoes in hand.



And I am wondering where that polish disappeared to. I looked everywhere for it last night!

OMG! Did he have a nose ring?!?!

"I met a guy at Hot Topic". Normally that phrase would have my husband looking at me funny, but luckily, I have a very trusting husband. All I got was an "Oh? Really?" in that special tone of voice. I quickly rolled my eyes (he couldn't see through the cell phone) and went on to explain the conversation to him. This guy was the guy most people would typically cross the street from or just give weird looks. He had a large u shaped ring through the middle part of his nose, multiple face piercings, and I didn't stop to count the tattoos. Actually the kind of guy that makes most parents terrified their daughter will bring home. Yes, I dated a few of them. No, it doesn't bother me in the least.

Why? No, it's not because I'm a freak of nature who doesn't make snap judgments based on appearance. We all do that. It's not right, but we do. I had a friend 10 years ago who was goth before goth was cool. Most people would take one look and scream "Devil Worshiper!!!" in their heads, when in reality, he was a devout Christian. So devout that he wouldn't have sex until marriage.

Back to the guy I met yesterday. I was the only person in the store, and I explained to him that I figured of all places in our tiny town, this might be the one that carried something related to bento. They didn't, but it got us talking. He started telling me about the blogs that he has seen where the moms make sushi look like Pikachu. I sadly explained that I wasn't that creative, but I tried. I told him it was the best way to get my daughter to eat and not complain about her lunches and the conversation took off from there. We talked for a few minutes about school reunions, peoples judgmental attitudes about anything different, and about how grown up children seem to be compared to us. Before I left he smiled at me and told me that I was doing the right thing for my daughter, and that made me a great mom. Then he went back to work, and I went on my way.

That simple conversation made my day better. From the least looking "normal" person. I think normal is overrated. Why not be different? Stand out from the crowd? In my experience, it's the normal people who bring me down, and those who don't care who say the smallest thing to build me up.

The Devil Has a Birthday?

Parents, please stop. I don't care what your church says, Halloween is NOT the devils birthday. Saying so makes you sound like a brainwashed idiot who can't think for themselves. I mean honestly, read your own bible. The christian devil is a fallen angel. Gods former right hand man. So, do angels have birthdays?

When my daughter comes home, feeling like an outcast because all but 4 kids in her class think that Halloween is Satans birthday, it scares me for our future. For the lies that are being spread. The link I am including isn't everything, but it can help get you started.

http://www.history.com/topics/halloween

So dress up your kids, get some candy, and remember, Halloween was Americanized long before you were born, and it was never evil, and its roots predate Christianity. Paganism is not evil, and only people who are ignorant and hate anything but their own religion would try to put that out there.

Sicko to Bento

I have been nursing this cold for 3 days now. I'm not as achy as I was, but I am keeping myself medicated and hydrated. For this reason, Alice went to school with no lunch today. I wasn't feeling up to it, and my darling Trojan Man tossed her $2.30 and told her to eat at school. One day I'll pick on him for his inability to pack a simple lunch. :P She's happy though, as she likes the salad bar.

It's now after 11am and I do have to do something for the preschool aged Thumbelina, so I thought, hey? Why don't I bento for her? It's not a box, but it's still creatively prepared, and I have the perfect plates for it. I call it "Flower Power":

Cheese Flowers, with a raisin center and celery stems


Bologna and cheese cut with the same cutters and celery stems


If I were super creative, I guess the peanut butter would be a flower, but I don't rock that much


I also picked up some really cool lunch boxes at Walmart for $1.68. I got 3 in the pack, and they are much stronger than your 3 sectioned gladware containers, and I hope they hold up well, they should, as they are practically un-bendable:

Ben... What?

Bento. The cool new mommy movement. Well, it's been new for almost 6 years and I am just now getting to it. The cool kid is always the one who makes an entrance, right? Bento is a slang Japanese term, that basically means convenient. (so I understand. Correct me if I'm wrong) Some say it means boxed lunch, but there are tons of jokes there, so let's skip it for now.

Bento has been popular in Japan (and moved into other countries) for hundreds of years, and it didn't start out as what we have turned it into. You know us crazy American. Always changing shit. For something that is supposed to be convenient, we've turned it into something to showcase our supermommy skills. I'll call it New Bento. May the best mama win. (Bloggers, that would be me. I'm the super special snowflake mommy. Deal with it)

The idea of the new bento started to appeal to me due to the reduction of lunchtime waste and no longer wanting over processed foods for my children. Do you know the number of plastic baggies and food wrappers an average child goes through a school year? Neither do I, but I figured it must be a lot. So I started using gladware to package my daughters lunches and for a while, I was happy. But then, I wanted to do things to make them smile, so I busted out my cookie cutters and started cutting the sandwiches into shapes and making sandwich rolls.

Finally, I decided if I'm going to go halfways, why don't I just march onto full New Bento? This morning was my first official New Bento meal, and for someone who has no tools of the trade, I was pretty happy with myself. I met Alice at school for lunch however, and she had opened the box on the bus (she wanted to see what I did, and she didn't shut it back correctly) and I about cried at seeing how the items went everywhere, ruining my presentation. So, it's time to invest in some actual Bento boxes. So I don't burst into tears during lunch time again.

Look Me In The Eyeball!

Thumbelina has the most beautiful eye color. It's not blue, but it's not green, it's a mixture of the two that leaves me staring at them in wonder. Alice and I have brown eyes. Mine are darker, almost black, though many people tell me they turn orange when I get really angry. (that would be the hell fire, I guess)

Thumbelina's look almost as if the color is moving. I don't know where the color came from. It has to be some far back gene that both her father and I have, but we have no living or known relatives that have it.

F is for FAIL

Alice is bored again. She can't stand the review weeks at school and is frustrated that they will not be focusing on spelling, yet again, at this school. I'm beginning to think that she was either spoiled at her old school, or this school has no clue as to what they are doing. The scarier thought is the fact that one school is in a higher income ratio district, compared to the other one. Anyone want to take a guess? Anyone else find this a bit scary and insulting?

So bored is she, that she's asked me to come up with spelling lists for her each week to learn and test on. Me. The person who can't teach left from right without getting frustrated. I'm up for the challenge! I'm just scared. She shouldn't hate school at 8. She should be loving it. Be ready to learn. AIG is kicking up again, and even though it's only 1 day a week this year, she's excited because she thinks she might be challenged more. Let's keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best.

Urinatreeapeein!

Like my title? This is a name that Thumbelina and I debuted today. She was in the car and had to pee really bad, but there was nowhere to pull over and we were almost home, so I started joking with her.

"Well, Thumbelina, I Can pull over and you can pee on the grass right there"
"Mommy! Everyone will see me! Can't I climb the tree and pee in the tree?"
"That sounds great in theory Thumbelina dear, but then everyone would see the pee coming down, look up and say "URINATREEAPEEIN!"

We have interesting conversations on the way home. But on to the point of this journal. Let's talk about trolls. Specifically ones that target me. I don't know who you are, troll of the grandma board, but you sure as hell aren't my mom. If you were, you would made things sound a lot worse. I mean, hell, to really drive home what a slut I am, you should have mentioned that I have two kids, BY TWO DIFFERENT FATHERS, and then am married to a 3rd man who is not blood related to either! Because if that doesn't scream slutty whore, what does?

I honestly couldn't figure out what you were trying to do. You kept going back and forth between making me look like the worlds biggest tool of a mama, to making my "mom" look like an all out fruit loop. Trust me, she doesn't need your help. She does that all by herself. So that leaves me to think you were doing it for two other reasons.

1. Make me out myself on BBC with my new screen name. WTF dude, I didn't think it was really all that much of a mystery.
   
2. Make me look bad to other people, either by making me look like a tool, or by making people think it was me trolling for fun.

You probably succeeded. Good for you. Next time you try though, you need to get a few facts straight, ones you probably weren't able to cull from my former posts on the boards.

1. My mother wouldn't be able to watch Thumbelina on the playground. I'm there. I would see her.
2. It's not my husbands who's a controlling jerk, that's me! ;)
3. The second restraining order that was taken out was not by my sister, it was by my BIL, on our mothers husband.
   
4. In NC, it's not called CPS. It's DSS. If that was really my mother, she has enough experience with them, she would call it that.

I hope this helps you on your plans to do God knows what in the future. Good luck, and next time pass me a note. If I hadn't of checked right before the DWILs post was deleted, I never would have seen it, and wouldn't that have sucked? And if I were really as awful as you say troll mom, here is what Thumbelina would do to me!

First, she would be scared


Then she would beat me up


Finally, after beating me up, she would eat tacos

So Much Clarity, You Can Feel The Anger

Our new camera came today. I am excited to have a new toy, but it's going to take me a while to learn it, if I ever do. I was playing with the settings, and I needed some still shots. Alice is better at being still than Thumbelina, so I said I needed to use her. This of course, hurt Thumbelina's feelings, and these are the photos that resulted:







She got over it in time to do the action shots, where I had her head banging, just to see how clear the photos would be...

Sometimes I Wonder If The People Who Make Up Qoutes Ever Spent A Day In High School

It's better to be hated for what you are,
than loved for what you are not.
-Andre Gide

Yeah yeah, I know. The quote makes total sense, and it's completely correct too. I'm just pointing out the fact that what's true isn't always what's easy. We all pretend to a degree, just so we don't cause more waves than we already do. Be honest, how many times have you wanted to reach out and smack someone, but held back because you knew the drama that would ensue if you did? That's what I'm saying. Sometimes, it's good to hold back a bit. No one wants to be hated. I mean, imagine if Kanye had kept his smarmy ass off that stage. Just thought to himself that Beyonce's video was the best of all time and didn't feel the need to share it during Taylors acceptance speech? He might still be loved. By someone other than me. I always thought he was an egotistical jerk face.

This is what we are supposed to teach our kids though. To not worry about swimming in the mainstream, and to take the road less traveled. What do we do however, when that road leaves our babies stranded, without a friend to call on? Do we then encourage them that sometimes it's OK to play in the mainstream if it means having friends? Everyone wants their child to be popular, but no one wants their child to be a follower. Do you see how this doesn't exactly add up? Someone has to be the follower, or they have to strike out on their own, and hope that others follow them.

Being a parent is a tough gig, because you have to try and help guide, the best you can, without the outright interference of "TAKE THAT ROAD! NO, THAT ONE OVER THERE, WITH THE LIMBS BLOCKING YOUR PATH!" Also, why does the road less traveled always have to be the right one? I'm sure the worlds first whore traveled a hard road. Didn't make it a good one.

It's pretty sad that reading one quote in a book (Some Girls Bite by Chloe Neill) sent me down this silly little introspective. I need to get my butt on the road and start traveling soon. I'm taking the one well traveled and laid with asphalt. I don't even want to think what the less traveled roads would do to my undercarriage! I guess my point is this:

Life isn't going to be easy, you shouldn't always take the easy way. But life shouldn't be unbearable either. Sometimes the path of least resistance turns out to be the best. You just need to take the time to judge both paths before heading down it. And leave breadcrumbs in case you need to find your way back.

Southern... and Proud? Yes Ma'am.

I used to be embarrassed to be from the south. The place that said y'all and thought fried was it's own food group. As I've gotten older, I've realized that each and every place has their own stereotypes, and being honest, it has some basis in reality. What I've also realized, is that basis? It's not always the majority it's based on. All southerners are racists? You know, I can name quite a few stupid asses. But guess what? I can name just as many northerners that are just as ignorant. All southerners talk slow? Um, has anyone heard me speak? Ask anyone, I speak faster than any northerner I know. Just ask my friends. Of course, my father is a Damn Yankee.... He converted years ago.

There is a beauty to the South, and true deep beauty, and I am sick of hearing it trashed by ignorant asses. Hell, I get just as mad when I see some moronic redneck acting like the war isn't over, but it pisses me off just as much when a Northerner acts all superior about it. Really? Aren't we all part of the same country? Can't you all just get over yourselves and realize that there is beauty everywhere and that it's not just the south that allows cousins to marry?

I love the south, and I will always defend this place from anyone who is stupid enough to try and put it down. Get a life and move on with your jackassery. If you have such disdain for us, get the fuck out and we'll make sure the door doesn't hit you. I've come to realize that I don't need to be ashamed of the place I live. I'm not scared to say I am proud of the place I live. I love it here.

Y'all come back now, when you change your own bigoted attitudes. I'll make sure to have some tea and southern cooking for you.

Can You Feel The Love Tonight...

After picking up Thumbelina from preschool, I told her we were heading to the grocery store. "Why mommy" she innocently asks. "You said you wanted pizza tonight Thumbelina, so I have to get some cheese and stuff" I respond back, as we drive out of the school parking lot. I hear a long suffering sigh from the backseat, "Mommy, you know I think your pizza is the best pizza ever, right? But I wanted to go to Ci-Ci's for my back to school. I still think yours is the bestest, just 'cause I want Ci-Ci's doesn't mean I don't like yours best!"

Feel the love there? Yeah, just making sure.

I Totally Suck

Why Does It Always Have To Be Me?

Last night I was exhausted. Mr. Peaches fails to realize that I get less sleep than anyone in this household, and it all culminated in me almost passing out from lack of enough sleep. "GO TO BED EARLIER!" could be screamed from the rooftops, but as any mom knows, that's not always an option. Which leaves everyone but me bright eyed and bushy tailed.

So, last night, half out of it, I heard Mr. Peaches say he would take care of the mess from dinner. I wake up to find that the sink is stuffed with dishes, the onions and chili were left out on the counter (oh, he places a napkin over them) and the extra brats, thrown into the fridge, no tinfoil nor placed in Tupperware. So look at that. 6 brats, an onion, and an entire bowl of chili, in the trash can. I know, it's only $5.00 down the drain, but it could have been lunch today, you know?

I'm just tired and frustrated. I was supposed to sleep in this morning, but that went over everyones head. Mr. Peaches remarked "What are you talking about? I let you sleep in!" Really? Slamming doors, being really loud, and locking yourself in the bathroom for 45 minutes while the kids are up is letting me sleep in? Holy hell. I'll make sure to return the favor all next week, getting the girls ready for school. :/

I've also realized something awesome. You need to leave for work at 9:15am. Thumbelina has to be at Preschool at 9:00am. Guess what? If you get up 30 minutes earlier each morning, YOU can drop her off at preschool on your way to work! It's not even out of your way by more than 5 minutes, making the timing PERFECT! I'm an evil bitch.

No Vampires At Walmart Today. Mildly Disapointed.

I'm on Chapter 13 of Meg Cabots newest book, Insatiable. The book is about Meena Harper (vaguely familiar?), a woman who hates vampire story lines, but is forced to write them for the soap opera she is working on. The book so far has gotten in a few hilarious jabs at the whole Twilight obsession some people seem to have (*whistles as I look around the room. Not me. No... NEVER me!) In this version of vampire lore, Vampires burn in direct sunlight, need blood to live, and are still a secret.

There are also vampire hunters, a secret sect of the Vatican. You don't even have to be a Christian to work for them, just have the ability to kill anything with sharp fangs. Of course, there is also an uber-sexy vampire, who we all know Meena will wind up falling in love with. It wouldn't be Vampire porn otherwise. Oh, you guessed it. The main vampire hunter? He's gunning for him. Oh Noes!

What had me cracking up last night was during a part that the hunter narrates. He's trying to get to Uber-sexy vamp, by tracking down a vampire who is sucking the blood of a pretty Walmart employee. Well, formerly pretty. Apparently the blood loss is taking it's toll on her. Vamp Hunter explains to the audience (us) that for some reason, vampire prefer trolling Walmart parking lots, over Target. He thinks because Target has better security cameras. Vamp Hunter himself prefers Target. All I could think was "I need to tell the girls on the BHB!"

Meg Cabot is also the writer of The Princess Diaries, one of my secret loves. I started reading it years ago, and had to find out how Princess Mia turned out, even though she didn't finish the series until I was 27. She actually writes quite a few well known series, and there is irony over the fact that she is one of my daughters favorite authors as well. Allie Finkles Rules For Girls, a great series for all girls.

Facepalm Guy Saw and Hates You For It

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Am I Overreacting?

I talked to Mr. Peaches about this last night, and he said he had to think on it before I emailed the gym teacher. Is it because I'm a mom? Because Alice has had issues? Because I'm hyper vigilant enough?

Yesterday in P.E., the coach weighed the kids. Which, honestly, I am not against. What I am against is the fact that he yells out the weights in front of the entire class. Alice is in the 73% for her height and the 75% for her height. We worked really hard getting her weight stabilized, and the doctor was in happy tears over it. Alice has never really been concerned with her weight, but came home in tears (sad ones), upset that she weighs more than other girls in her class. She was also upset that a girl who weighs 115lbs was made fun of by other students.

I am sure he was calling it out to be written down, but let's be honest. Kids are cruel. Kids are soaking things up at this age. Kids should not be crying over their weight. Teaching healthy eating habits? YES Teaching about getting enough physical exercise? YES

Making them feel self conscious about their weight at 8 years old? FUCK NO