January 22, 2012

Quote This - Bridesmaids

I've glimpsed my future while watching Bridesmaids last weekend. I am Rita.

"The other night I'm slaving away making a beautiful dinner for my family, my youngest boy comes in and says he wants to order a pizza. I said no, we're not ordering pizza tonight. He goes, mom why don't you go and fuck yourself! He's nine!" -Rita, Bridesmaids

January 20, 2012

How 'bout I Do What?

Aidan's said some dumb shit in his seven years on Earth. He's still alive so ya know, I'm like Mother of the Year, right? Just minutes ago he upped the ante on the Um, what did you just say to me? scale. I am folding laundry - freshly out of the dryer, I might add - when he asks if he can help. He folds exactly one towel, one washcloth and paired up some socks. When we were all done I hand him his stack of clothes to put away and he gives me attitude. So when he was done I handed him the kitchen towels to put away and he gives me more attitude. So when he finished that I handed him the pile of towels and washcloths for the downstairs bathroom and he temporarily loses his sanity, stomps away and snarls... 

Why do I have to put everything away?!?! How about you do some work, hu?

And then he ran. Because he knew. And I didn't raise a complete fool.

January 18, 2012

Inny Minny Miney Moe

We bought the Altima in mid-December. It's mid-January, the payment is due in 10 days and we still don't have a statement to pay it. So yesterday I call the bank the dealership financed us through and they have no damn idea who we are - no paperwork, no loan, nada. This morning I call the dealership. Here goes that conversation...

I started out perfectly calm and reasonable. We bought a car last month, financed through XX Bank but they don't have our loan or any paperwork on us. 
Immediately comes the 'tude from Dealership Douche. Who told you you were financed through XX Bank?
And then my 'tude rears it's head. Um, YOU did. Also, the paperwork from YOU says XX Bank.
Dealership Douche adds defensive to the 'tude. Well, we don't benefit from telling you that you're financed through one bank and then financing you through another.
And in my head I'm thinking You're about to be in way over your head, tiger. But instead I say I'm just telling you what we were told and what our paperwork says.
Then Dealership Douche adds to the 'car salesmen are full of shit' stereotype by saying Just because it's on the paperwork doesn't mean anything. We can put anything randomly on that.
After giving him ample time to retract that statement I retort Really. I'm not sure what to do with that information. It's not exactly comforting. Do you think you could tell me who you randomly financed us through so I can make the damn payment?

For crying out loud! I mean this is all well and good for blog material but really... My whole life is a series of shit that happens to most people like twice in their lifetimes.

January 14, 2012

Planning Ahead

"Be polite, be professional, but have a plan to kill everyone you meet."

January 11, 2012

L Is For Loyalty

Last year when I was all pissed that Asher didn't get into preschool I was text-ranting to my friend, Krista, about Asher seriously needing preschool  The kid only knows one letter, E, and about 49% of the time he calls out B when he sees it. Meanwhile Skinny Bitch's boys are pointing to the magnet letters on my fridge saying 'G is for Grey, C is for Cat, M is for Mom'... They're 2!  Krista responds Yeah well S is for Show-off. He'll get in next year. And that, friends, is why I heart Krista. She's always on my side.

January 10, 2012

Probably Not What He Had In Mind

I figure my husband, like every other man on the planet, has the menage a trois fantasy. And me, being the best wife in the universe, am about to make that fantasy a reality.

You see, I have what can only be described as another person developing just under the skin on my forehead. Certainly by the time we get busy again it will in fact qualify as another entity, therefore deeming that encounter a threesome.

Bam! Best wife ever! Now to convince him that this scenario and the one percolating in his head since he was 13 are one and the same. I'll let you know how that goes...

January 8, 2012

I've Really Got It Rough

I got kicked out of my Jeep. Something about a Hemi, my lead foot, and $200 a week in gas... Whatever, I was just keeping up with the other traffic on the road. It was determined that since there is no chance in hell that we will add more children to our clan, I do not require a vehicle that seats eight to drive two small heathens to and from school, sporting events, and meetings with probation officers. Okay, we're not scheduled with a probation officer yet but it's not out of the realm of possibility. So now he is driving my beloved Jeep and me? I got this.

A Nissan Altima. I love her! And she loves me. Yes, my car tells me she loves me, I heard her. The best thing though? I got her a week before Christmas and I've gotten gas ONCE. Granted, we were out of town for a week and she was left all alone in the cold, dark garage and therefore not driven but still! Once. $40. Okay, so maybe kicking me out of the Jeep was a sound financial decision. Maybe. 

January 6, 2012

They Started It

I got a letter from the School Attendance Nazi's right before Christmas break. It said...

Dear Parent,
Aidan has missed two days of school and left early two times. Keep in mind our attendance policy. After five absences a meeting will be scheduled with the principal to discuss the issue. After seven absences we will notify the prosecuting attorney who will order your public execution in the city square.  
Sincerely,
School Attendance Nazis

Or some such shit. As I look at this letter I am thinking about how in the month of January alone a total of six potential school days will be missed due to the school closing for one reason or another. So I plan on sending them a letter on February 1 that will say something like this.

Dear School Attendance Nazis,
Aidan and the rest of the student body have missed six days of school this semester. Note: We are merely 30 days into said semester. Please keep in mind your performance relating to your attendance policy the next time you find yourself typing up a shame-on-you letter to me because my kid was sick for two days and was checked out a half an hour before dismissal twice in one semester. You're not the only ones keeping track.
Sincerely,
Amanda

January 5, 2012

I'll Make Your Resolutions For You

I've decided that my kids, the dog, and my husband for that matter, need some direction in making their New Year's Resolutions. 

First on the list? Asher and Aidan. Boys, in 2012 you will learn to pee INTO the toilet rather than ONTO it. I swear on my laptop I will let that bathroom morph into the hazardous material dumping ground it teeters on the edge of becoming on every day except the days I take it upon myself to don a gas mask and go in with no regard for my own well-being. Next time I see this?

I will... You will... It will be... Just don't piss all over the toilet anymore, okay?

Now, Dear, I actually had to look for something to create a resolution for you about because, well, you get off pretty easy here on the ol' blog and frankly it's your turn. Also, you're darn near perfect. So, sweetie, in 2012 I resolve for you to clear your mind of the delusion that the space between your bedside table and the wall is a closet. It also is not a clothes hamper.


And no, I do to wish to discuss the various places in which my randomly discarded clothing ends up. This is neither the time nor the place for that nonsense. 

And finally, Brody. Oh Brody. I could understand if you believed yourself to be a Chihuahua  based on how you try to crawl up into the laps of little old ladies and small children. I could even understand if you were under the impression that you were a human considering how you flop your big, black ass on the couch like you own this joint. What I am confused by is where you got the idea that you were a cat. Why do I think that you might think that you are a cat? Well, it's the only reason I can come up with as to why you try to cover up your shit with grass and two inches of soil from the yard. The yard that we pay a service an uncomfortable fee to keep looking respectable. Covering up your shit is a cat thing. I would think being a cat would be the very thing a dog would not want to be. So stop being a cat, will ya?

January 3, 2012

I Truly Don't Know What I'm Doing

I'm here, I'm moving to a new place, I'm back here, I'm quitting all together... I can't even keep up with myself. All this shit started when I had an attack of "oh shit what if real life people find out about this? This being here, my blog, where I will pretty much say anything regardless of appropriateness. But now it's 2012 and I'm not changing how I write or what I write or where I write. Hell, I have no problem offending people I don't know, why not be fair? 

So now that I said all that, I don't have to move but I still kinda want to. Changes though, yeah, I might need some of those. For instance, I tried no comments. Which at first I was all for because Whew, away with one more way of measuring my bloggy shortcomings. You guys though? You're all WTF, Amanda, why can't I comment? What is this bullshit? And I'm all Oh, NOW you wanna comment, hu? Where were your comments the past few months? You have yet to respond so that ends that convo.

Yeah, I don't know what I'm doing but I'm here now.