The Calm Before The Storm

On Monday, before we got spanked by the big bad ice storm, we logged some quality time with our friends. First, Lisa suggested having breakfast at the butt crack of dawn. Okay it was 8:30am but damn if it didn't feel like o' dark thirty.

Aidan had some insane idea of exactly how he wanted his pancake and sausage plate to look. He tried to tell the waitress and she did everything she could to make him happy. He wanted a cherry on top of his pancakes and she gave him several to be extra nice. That poor woman looked like she might cry when he freaked out on her because he only wanted ONE cherry. I tried to tell her ahead of time that there was no chance of making him happy but she tried anyway. Bet she doesn't go through the trouble again.

I wanted to stop by Wal-Mart before we dropped Skylee off so I braved the pre-storm psychos. A half hour later I finally pulled into a parking spot and prepared to wrestle 3 kids in the hell that is Wal-Mart. I turned around to see all three of them sleeping. Dammit! So we left. I might be crazy enough to attempt to take 3 kids into a store alone but you can bet your sweet ass I'm not gonna wake sleeping children and then try it. I choose life, thank you very much.

I Better Not Catch Mother Nature In A Dark Alley

...because that bitch and I are gonna lock horns. The aftermath from this ice storm, while beautiful, is quite the clusterfuck. Aidan thinks the ice is popcicles and he consumes them as such. Unfortunately, he grabs the easiest ones which happen to be from the bottom of the cars in the parking lot.

Moms were not meant to be confined to a small room alone with 2 miniature demons misbehaving children. And if this kind of torture must exist, why, for the love of God, can't school at least be open? I know preschool is good for Aidan but it's right up there with air for me. I need him to go to preschool.

We went back home today to get some more stuff and holy crap, was I ever glad we wised up and decided to get a hotel and not freeze to death. Good choice on my part.

Lexi was saved by AJ and her family who picked her up last night and took her to their house where they had heat. We picked her up from there and found a vet with room to board her so she's safe and sound.

Then we stocked up on snacks. Unfortunately I'm weak and I just want the kids to shut up and act like they have been raised by humans and not hyenas so "snacks" were whatever the hell Aidan wanted. Say hello to the biggest sugar/Red Dye 40 high this side of the Mason Dixon. This pretty much nixed the shutting up and acting like they were raised by humans. Say hello to Mama, one slip on the ice away from a padded room. God, how I wish they made baby Ambien.

Before we headed back to our jail cell, I mean hotel room, we had lunch at Chili's. Everyone else in town had the same idea and there were 4 servers, 2 cooks, 1 dishwasher and 0 busboys working (I overheard the host yacking). We waited almost 40 minutes and the scene these two made was ridiculous. Anyway, finally we got seated in the very back corner - coincidence? I think not. 

There was a woman eating by herself in peace. Aidan noticed her and when he said, "Mama, that girl is eating alone." I didn't skip a beat when I said, "I wish I was eating alone." And then the wiseass says, "Yeah, well you can't eat alone because you got all these kids to watch because Daddy's in Nebraska. Sorry, Mama, it sucks to be you." If only he would listen to me when I said the good stuff.

I Never Would Have Guessed

The kids and I put ourselves up in a hotel after we lost power at home due to Mother Nature's sick twisted sense of humor. Apparently she thinks causing school to be cancelled isn't enough, a citywide power outage is just what we all need to bring us together. I say Mother Nature never spent any time with my kids or it'd be 70 degrees and sunny every damn day.

We get all unpacked, run out to the closest place to get some lunch, and then decide to hit the indoor pool. BAM!!! Right in the middle of a game of Marco Polo (Aidan cheats), the lights go out. A woman walks by the pool a couple of minutes later and looks in at us as she walks by. Then she turns around, uses her keycard to open the door to the pool room and says to me, "The power is out."

No way! Is that what happened? That would explain the darkness now wouldn't it? Thank you, Miss Stating The Obvious, I'm not sure I'd have figured that one out on my own. *multiple eyerolls*

In The Red

I don't know how in the name of Baby Jesus I forgot to blog about this!

At the tender age of four years old, Aidan is in debt to the tune of $200. Instead of living beyond his means, he breaks shit beyond his means. The kid only manages to make about 50 cents out of a possible $7 a week in allowance so his credit score pretty much blows right now.

Aidan's cousins have a Guitar Hero World Tour for Wii. And now we have one. Of course they have a Wii to play it on and we do not. Do you see where this is going? Uh hu, he was trying to put on a "concert" and despite being told no less than 87 times not to touch the drums, the drums got knocked over and broken.

Do you think they sell the drums seperately? No, that'd just be too damn easy. So to replace the drums we had to buy the whole $200 set. And as I said earlier, we don't have a Wii so we've got a brand new Guitar Hero World Tour package with broken drums. Well, the drums work they just won't sit up on the stand anymore.

We thought it might turn out ok because maybe we could sell it all to a used game store. I mean you can buy the guitar and game alone for $100 so maybe, just maybe, we could get close to that for our bunked up entire package.

You're not really going to be surprised to find out how badly mistaken we were, are you? We were offered $35. $35!!! Are you fucking kidding me? So I made the kid quit jammin' out on the damn thing and pack it back up. Now we've got $200 worth of video game crap that is totally wasted on us sitting in our garage.

Damn shame. Damn Aidan!!!

Mama Needs Answers

Who can tell me how to see how many people read you in a reader?

What is a feedburner? Or is it Feedburner? Either way...

How do you get rid of the stupid navbar at the top of Blogger blogs?

Why am I obsessing over this when all hell is breaking loose at my place? Our very not old fridge has went out. Spoiled half of the frozen food and I don't even know the damage to the rest yet. So I just chucked it all outside - thank heaven it's butt-cold outside.

Tool

And thank you, P!nk, for introducing the phrase, "you're a tool, so, so what!" to Aidan. Because now I'm a tool, Asher's a tool, Lexi's a tool...

And STFU, Anonymous, I'm not gonna listen to The Looney Toons singing that alphabet song 68 times a day.

In Progress

So sorry if you all just got 379 new posts from me - I imported Martians over here. Just delete them. I'll get this all worked out soon.

~A

The Case of Good Mom vs Bad Mom

I counted seven Happy Meal toys. We accumulated them while on our 5 day trip to Nebraska.

Yes, I was one of those girls who said I'd never feed my kids McDonalds. I then grew into that mom who, for the sake of her sanity, eventually gives in when her kid refuses to eat anything but chicken nuggets.

And ya know what? I care not what you think because we survived the trip and that, my friends, should be what we focus on.

The Big Post About Nothing

I'm notorious for my impulsiveness. I have zero patience. If I see something I want, there is nothing that can convince me that the three bucks I'd save if I shopped around is worth giving up that instant gratification. I'm somewhat of a spoiled brat in that way. Take it up with my husband.

This theme carries over into anything I get in my head. I decide I want to redecorate a room and thoughts of nothing else will consume me. Right now, I'm way low on blog funny. I've got nothing. And so, the customary blog post about having nothing to post. Jesus, I'm such an unoriginal dope.

Alas there is a twist! The reason I have no funny in me is that I'm consumed with this elusive move. And also I should probably spend less time on the internet.

Let's start with #1. I should delete everything. Blogs, MySpace, Facebook, Twitter... even Webkinz. But that would be mean because technically the Webkinz is Aidan's but somehow manages to suck my time. The time I spend, it's ridiculous. I wonder if my kids know what my face looks like without a laptop covering the bottom half.

The #2 mind-fuck I've got going on is this moving thing. I don't want to leave my friends and my familiar place but if it's happening, then HAPPEN ALREADY! My husband is gone, we can't sell our house and even if we could, we're gonna lose our asses on it. It's infuriating. Tell me again exactly where that $700 Billion Bailout went? Because unless you just stop paying your mortgage all together, they've got "no programs available" which is just code for "tough shit".

Everything is contingent upon moving. I'll start working out again after we move. I'll keep the new house clean. I'll bother with make-up and a hair brush when we get moved.

Before the comments start flowing - yes, I know that in this economy we are lucky to have such a problem. This is my blog and I'll bitch if I want to.

So, there ya go. In the midst of an unfunny, nothing to blog about because I have issues dryspell, you get this begging for the zoloft post. Sorry for ya.

Gone For 5 Days

Wow, the outpouring of concern for my well being and demands for my immediate return to blogging have truly melted my heart. Who knew so many of you really cared. I must have dozens of "where are you? bring back the funny!" emails. And by dozens I actually mean ZERO. I mean WTF, guys? I could be dead in a ditch somewhere! And then who'd write here to make you feel better about your kids because at least they aren't as bad as Aidan and Asher. Noone, that's who! Pay attention and would it kill you to stroke the talent's ego just a little bit?

You Are What You Search For

Oh how I love the Keyword Analysis function on StatCounter. Well, we have a love/hate relationship. On one hand, if you have come to my blog by way of searching for any of these terms

kid n*ked swimming pictures

kids swimming n*ked

n*ked swimming kids

kid n*kedness

then you are a skank pedophile and may you get what you deserve in prison, pervert.

If you have landed here by a search of these terms

hogtied sissy

sissy

is you a sissy

kids being a sissy

I'm on the fence about you. For now you can keep reading my blog but don't push it.

If you are here because you are searching these terms

kid hogtied
hogtied homemade

bling for my awesome blog
hogtied kids

how to hogtie a kid

don't let a kid hogtie you

my kids might really be martians

then we should talk. I think we could be friends. Possibly long lost sisters. Call me!

If you searched for these things to get here

creative blog for kids
learn all about martians for kids
what do about stuffed up nose at night only kids
creative stuff for kids to do

then you are in the wrong place. You are looking for the blog by Mrs Perfect about her 2 Perfect Kids and all of the intellectual stimulating activities they do each day. I am not Mrs Perfect, I'm more a Mrs Barely Surviving and this blog is all about my 2 Absolutely Unperfect Kids and all the ways I make it through the day without hurting anyone. Much.

I Did Not

I did not consider making Aidan pee in a Mt Dew bottle so I didn't have to stop again on our way to Nebraska. I'm sure there will come a day when that has to be rephrased to say I did not actually make Aidan pee in a Mt Dew bottle but so far, I'm still in for Mother of the Year.

I did not while at my inlaw's house yell downstairs to my husband, "Is everyone gone, is it just us here?" and when he said yes, yell down to Aidan "If you don't stop that obnoxious cackling I'm gonna come down there and whip your ass!".

I did not give serious thought to badgering my husband into quitting his new job in Nebraska because it is just too damn cold for me here.

I did not just lower the price on our house to 30K below what we paid for it. Oh wait, turns out that's exactly what I had to do. And STILL no one has called on it.

Well, that's it, I can't continue after that last one. Gonna go not stick a magazine in the toaster, blow out the pilot light, and leave the house for the day.

WTF, Asshole!?!?

I know that I read another blogger writing about some asshole using her email address to sign her up for a bunch of stupid newsletters and spam sites. Looks like she and I share a common asshole reader.

Is it just me or is that not some juvenile, bullshit thing to do? I think Spam Asshole and Anonymous should join ranks and start their own blog called 'We Are Dysfunctional Pussies So We Screw With People On The Internet'.

Here's what I wish for Spam Asshole and Anonymous - a wicked computer virus that wipes away years of your pictures and complete asshole children that live with you until they're 43.

Karma's a bitch, bitch!

GNO - kiddie style

Last Thursday was a Girls Night Out. Kinda. Since I'm playing single mama right now I had to bring Satan Aidan and Judas Asher.

We do not eat out with Aidan and Asher. Ever. Would you take a bull into a china shop? It's the same idea, my kids = the bull, public places= the china shop.

Except that tonight. Despite Asher running on a mere 45 minute nap all day, he was fantastically well behaved. Aidan's only trouble involved the peanuts. He was swiping all the buckets from other tables. All of the other tables. He ate his weight in peanuts and then went on a misson to stomp the holy hell out of all of the peanut shells on the floor. All over the restaurant. I'm pretty sure Aidan's food got spit in. Sucks to be him.

We walked out of there with a huge paper bag full of peanuts to bring home. I'm thinking I might have a stroke because I'm not sure the Dyson can take all those shells after all the popcorn it took this afternoon. Paula came to my rescue and encouraged Aidan to dump the peanuts out in the parking lot and she joined him in stomping into dust. And that little scene was the best of the night.

I Can't Stop Crying

I swear on everything that is holy, this is the funniest thing I've ever heard. You have to turn your sound on to really get it. If you don't get tears in your eyes from laughing then you can't read my blog anymore because there's something wrong with you.

A Dramatic Reading Of A Real Break-Up Letter

A Timeline of Bullsh*t

God is pissed off at me! That or I'm just over-reacting. Either damn way...

Today I wake up like the walking fucking dead. I felt, looked, and smelled like hell!

HELL, I tell you!

I was basically sleepwalking all morning. By some miracle of God (this was when I didn't think He was mad at me) the boys both got visably tired at about 1:30pm.

Holy hell, both of them are gonna take a nap? I'm all, "no fucking way!". But the universe said, "way!". So off to bed go the heathens. Easy peasy. I go lay down and catch a glimpse of the clock as I slipped into blissful unconsciousness - 1:58pm.

2:07pm - Ringy dingy!!! goes my phone.

Shit!

It's Century 21 saying they had someone who wanted to see the house at 4pm.

Shit!

I spend the next 140 minutes in a near panic cleaning the house and praying that these are the oblivious idiots wonderful poeple who are going to buy this house and end my torture.

3:57pm - I'm dragging a half-asleep Aidan and a still sleeping Asher out to the truck before the people show up.

4:50pm - The three of us are in the driveway across the street waiting for them to show up, look, and buy.

Bupkis! They didn't even show up!

So... instead of approximately 2 hours of rejuvination I got to sweat like a fieldhand, cut my kid's naps short, and stalk my own house for an hour for no damn good reason.

Shit!

Boys Are Gross

Aidan wipes boogers all over his window in the truck and I found a collection of his boogers wiped on the bathroom wall.

Seriously, why?

Lost In Texas?

We were driving Lexi to her vet appointment (a blog for another time). Actually, we were lost. I wasn't ready to admit defeat but Aidan caught on to this when I turned around for the 3rd time and decided he needed to be in on the navigating. And this is that conversation...

Mama, are we there yet?

No, son, I can't find the clinic.

Oh, so we're lost.

We're NOT lost! Okay, I guess we might be lost, baby.

Where are we then?

Lost, remember, smart guy?

I wonder where we are. Maybe we're in Texas.

Texas! What do you know about Texas? We're NOT in Texas, pal.

How do you KNOW we're not in Texas? You're lost so you don't KNOW we're not in Texas.

Nevermind, Magellan, we have arrived at the vet.

Yeah, the vet in Texas!

They didn't have room to board him there overnight. Dang it!

The Weirdness Continues

Thank Baby Jesus that weirdos are still perusing the internet for sick shit and winding up on my blog. Low on blog fodder? Just check your keyword analysis on StatCounter. Bam! Instant funny (and somewhat disturbing) shit. Such as...

will blemish cream help with a hickey? - help it with what?

Mama sucks me off while I sleep - well, isn't that nice for you?

can u suck me off - I could but I'll pass, thanks.

how to cover a hickey, boy - lots of people are having hickey issues aren't they?

snuggie battery powered - why would that dumbass thing need batteries?

giving hickey and got boner - I hate to hear that. really, I hate to hear that, you adolescent idiot.

rejuvenique danger - I think you might be the danger, my dear.

hide a hickey - yes, please hide the nasty thing!

I Have No Authority Over My Children

This illustrates just how scared Aidan is of me.

Last night as I was at the very end of my proverbial rope and about to snap because Aidan refused to do one single damn thing I told him to all night long I got the 'Mama is about to commit a felony' look and through clenched teeth I hissed, "If you don't pick up your clothes and toys up off of this floor right this very minute I am going to lose every bit of my mind and spank you until I feel better. It will take a long time for me to feel better. You will cry. Hard. Now pick up your crap! When I come back you better be hard at work."

3 minutes later I come back to find him in his underwear standing on his toybox jamming with his guitar giving Asher a talent show. The room was exactly as it was when I left. No wait, the clothes he had on 3 minutes earlier were on the floor now.

Really!?!? Are you kidding me?

By some miracle of God, instead of spontaniously combusting right then and there I just sat on the bed and watched the talent show with Asher. We both laughed.

Broken Resolutions

Well, that was quick. I've broken a resolution. #6 I will not Ped-Egg my feet into bloody masses of meat at the end of my legs.

I can barely even walk today! That Ped-Egg is the freaking devil, I tell you. It's like crack, once you get started, you just can't stop. Next thing you know you're bleeding.

But hey, I'm still on track to exercise once this year.

Signs of Gluttony

If you can actually see sand in your son's diaper, he's probably eaten too much of it. I'm just sayin'.

How Kids Deal

Aidan is dealing with Daddy's absence in a sweet and a tiny bit annoying way. He's obsessed with packing to move to our new house. You know, the new house we don't have yet? He finds empty boxes all over the house. And by "empty" I mean he dumps whatever is in the box out so he can pack up his crap in it. Then he stacks and scoots the boxes all over the house. He tells me he's "got very important things to get done to move to our new house".

He can't pick up his clothes off the floor because he's packing.

He can't brush his teeth because he's packing.

He can't stop whacking his brother because his brother is interrupting his packing.

It goes on and on and on...

When Mr was getting his stuff ready for leave, Aidan kept bringing out his toys for him to take with him. Each item came with instructions or conditions. Such as:

"Daddy, this is Big Bear. And this is a blanket. You put the blanket on Big Bear when he gets cold on the way to Nebraska."

"Hey Daddy, you wanna take my guitar so you can rock and roll anytime you want to in Nebraska?"

"Okay Daddy, either you take this ball, this truck, AND this puppy or nothing at all. What's your choice?"

Somehow he became convinced that he shouldn't send his toys with Daddy because it's gonna be a long time before he'll get them back to play with. And I've since figured out how that was accomplished. Now Daddy introduced Bunjee cords. So now all the boxes get stacked up and strapped together with the bunjee cords. Thanks for that, honey.

On a sad note, after he left today and I had been crying, Aidan comes up to me and pats my back and says, "Mama, I've got tears for Daddy, too." He might string up his stuffed animals in nooses but that's one sweet damn kid!

Chick Stuff

We have a mouse. We saw the nasty little thing scurrying on the counter and through the living room.

Bastard had no fear.

He even played peek a boo with us.

I'm really not kidding, the bastard had zero fear.

If he had opposable thumbs there would have been a note next to the mousetrap with the peanut butter licked clean off of it that said, "Thanks for dinner, bitch."

So we bought some different traps and not 30 minutes after we set them, we heard the snap.

We had a mouse. And then I start feeling bad for breaking the little prick's neck. I actually felt bad. What IS that?

Tools Not Toys

Aidan was messing around in the garage so of course I had to scold him about getting into his Daddy's tools. But I misspoke and he quickly corrected me.

"Aidan, you can't play with Daddy's toys, I mean tools, out here!"

"Mama, you said 'toys' and they're 'tools'. Daddy tells me every single day that they're not toys."