Where's my mute button???

     It's been a while!  Life is just too busy sometimes!  Reminds me of an article going around facebook lately.  A lady wrote to a paper asking a question about how stay at home moms are so busy.  Quite frankly the lady was a condescending wench.  I wish that question came with a name, cause I'd like to meet her in a dark alley one night.  I get so angry when the job I do is regarded as less than any other job because it doesn't come with a paycheck.  I know I am super lucky to be able to stay home with my kids, but that doesn't mean that I don't want to work or that I haven't sacrificed.  What I do is work.  Raising children isn't sitting on a couch watching TV all day.  It's a lot of work, thought, effort, analyzing and patience.  I'm responsible for teaching 3 kids how to be independent and self-sufficient, how to read, write, work hard, be good people, with good morals and values, show them what the important things in life are, how to treat people, not to argue...the list goes on.  It's all day every day.  Some people just consider you lucky and lazy.  I would love to go back to work.  I sacrifice that to stay home with the kids.  My household would benefit from a second income just like anybody else's would.  There are plenty of things I don't have because of that decision.  But you do what you can for your kids.  We have found a way to do it, but it isn't easy.  You have to take the good with the bad.  Everybody in this world has a job to do.  The guy who sits at a desk all day may not always work as hard as a construction worker, but I don't judge him.  It takes all kinds to make the world go round...and no job is more important than another.  The daycare lady could raise my kids and get more credit than me, just because she's paid to do it!  It's the same thing people!  On the same note, I know quite a few working mothers and I see how hard that can be too.  They deserve all the credit in the world.  They have to do most of the same things I do plus another job outside of the house, and they miss their kids too.  And it's just as much of a sacrifice for them because they work for their kids just like I stay home for mine.  Whether they need the second income or they are single moms, they sacrifice being with their kids to provide for them.  At any rate, to each their own and condescending idiots can keep their opinions to themselves!!

    Now that I got that rant out of the way, time for next one!  I have been relentlessly HARASSED about box tops since school started.  Day in and day out my kids are up my butt with "buy more stuff with box tops,  we NEED MORE box tops!"  I have been patient, today was the last straw.  As they were getting ready for school it started again.  ~Mom, we need you to cut these box tops now, did you buy more gogurt yet?  I started yelling.  "That's IT!  If I hear one more word about box tops -EVER, I'll end your life!  You will never SEE another fruit roll up, you'll forget what yogurt tastes like..I won't even take you to the store!"  That shut them up, and then when they came home from school I experienced a short lived moment of joy like no other.  They told me that the school contest for box tops was over now.  I was so happy.  UNTIL I saw the prize Lexi's class won for collecting the most.

I couldn't believe it.  Noisemakers.  Are you kidding me?  I had to hear them whine about collecting these things for 2 month's and this is the thanks I get.  I thought maybe Lexi's teacher had some sort of personal vendetta against me, but she can't hate every parent in the class.  After about 2 hours of hearing this thing non stop I gave Lexi a look from hell.  My plan was to break it after she went to bed, I think she knew, because she hid it.  This may sound like terrible parenting to you.  Go ahead and think that.  Leave me your name, I'll be sure to mail one to your kid when Christmas rolls around.
     I was eavesdropping on Dana singing this evening.    And I quote, " It's not that good of a life, not that good of a life, until you have Burger King for breakfast."  I thought to myself, well isn't that terrific.  If she thinks life's bad now, wait until she has to work at Burger King.
    
     Nate refuses to say Mama, and not because he can't either.  He does it to torture me.  He thinks it's funny.  He will say Dada for hours, here is a short video so you can see for yourself.  Also, you'll want to watch cause he's so stinkin cute!

If his foot looked dirty, it was a shadow.  Trust me, because MY kids are always impeccably clean.  ;)

     It amazes me how easily your kids can make you look like an idiot.  Lexi put Steeler's tattoo's on her face a couple weeks ago, they were on upside down.  It was a Sunday and I wasn't going to make them scrub the crap off of their faces just for school, so they went to school with them on Monday.  Lexi's teacher, who happened to graduate with my husband, asked her why they were upside down.  Lex told her it's because her Dad did it, and he doesn't know what he's doing.  HAHA!  A girlfriend of mine had her son pull his pants down and show a cashier his business when he was about 2.  One day when the girls were little (Lexi 2, Dana 1)  I was babysitting April's son Kaden(also 1).  I spied on them from the hallway as they played on their Little Tykes slide.  They were taking turns and being good.  Lexi was growing impatient because it took the little kids longer to get up the stairs, and I watched in disbelief (followed by tons of laughing) as she said, "Hur-ry up, fuckersssss!"  I laughed in the hall for several minutes before I could go in and punish her with a straight face.  Like the time at Christmas when she was 3.  Her grandma had wrapped up a package of new underwear with this storybook toy.  It was a stuffed bible guy, that looked like he was wearing a backpack(or what looks like a pillow- to a kid), and inside the backpack was a book.  Lexi tears into the package, and very excitedly yells, "I got undies and a man with a pillow!!"  I about spit out my drink!  She's not allowed to get excited about that until her wedding night.  Most people think I am wishful thinking, but I believe in dictatorship type parenting.  My dad had to catch me sneaking out, so I know to bolt my kids windows and screens shut BEFORE they start sneaking out.  I bet I can still buy a chastity belt on Ebay, and GPS tracker ankle bracelets and at home drug testing are good options also.  Am I taking this too far?  I think not!  (wink wink)  Will my kids hate me?  Most definitely.  Does that mean I'm doing my job?  Yes.  I guess none of us wants our kids doing the things we did, and I know the secret.  NEVER trust your kids.  So that is my plan.  Remember chaperoned dates?  Me either.  But my kids will know what they are.  If you ask my girls today when is an appropriate age to date and get married they will tell you, at least 30.  I have been actively convincing them that arranged marriage is where it's at.  (If they fall for this- I already have 2 boys picked out for them...coming straight out of the Farmer household, where they are being raised to be impeccable husbands and fathers.)  Okay, I joke everybody.... kinda.
  
     I've employed a new form of punishment for Lex and Dana, they hate it.  They have to write whatever they do bad, 25 times.  I've found it's a huge time saver for me, now I don't have to stop what I'm doing to beat butts, or remember to watch the clock so a kid can take their nose off the wall.  If you've read the blog about my little brother, Josh...then you understand why I'm so strict with my kids.  In fact the girls think Josh is one of them.  They don't even realize we're the same age.  Kind of like Dad's.  I'm sure some of you have this problem.  "Dad is soooo great.  Oh!  Dad's home!  Let's have a parade and meet him before he even walks in the house to tell him how much we missed him and how fuuuuun he is!  Dad never gets us in trouble, Dad takes us to the park!  Dad said we could have the gum, we asked him cause we knew you'd say no!  Dad picked us up a special new toy on his way home from work!  Dad always gives us quarters for the gumball machine!  Dad is so cool he can light a fart on fire!"  I guess I'll stop there.  Where's my big ups from the little ones?  Dad's are like kids that can drive.  And they don't know how good they have it.  Today at dinner I said having kids has got to be similar to chinese water torture.  They all looked at me as if to say "You've got some balls sayin that to us".  No, if I had balls, I'd be appreciated and get days off.  But seriously, the repetitiveness is absurd.  I was kicked all through dinner.  Lexi asks so many questions that Jimmy calls her google.  Dana keeps leaning back in her chair, Nate's trying to escape his, which he does..every time.  I multitask more during dinner than one person should.  I cooked the food, how bout you let me eat it?!? 

     In other news, my little brother is having a baby (GO READ THE BLOG~ My little brother I call him Vanilla)  Pray for him and the sweet girl that has to raise what will probably be, the craziest child ever born.  I can't wait though.  I'm pretty excited about it!  So congrats to Josh and Nat! 

     That's all folks...for now!

          
  

School starts!

     This is year one of public school for my kiddos...they went into 2nd and 3rd grade.   I was nervous about everything, including school supplies.  I called my girlfriend April fretting about it.  She burst out laughing when I told her I better add band-aids to the list, cause they might need one.  She reminded me the school nurse handles those types of things. 
     They have been with me virtually non-stop for about 9 years.  They don't have attachment issues at all, but I do.  I don't tell them that, but I hate being away from them!  In fact, I remember when they were younger and wanted to go hang out at my Dad's house.  I called so often to check on them that my Dad stopped answering my phone calls. 
     When the first day of school came, I was crazy.  I imagine it happens to every mom when they ship their kids off to school, especially the first day of kindergarten.  I missed them so much!  I drove myself crazy all day pacing and thinking of all the bad things that could happen.  I did nothing but stare at the clock and feed Nate.  Honestly, the day is a blur to me.  I remember thoughts of Dana sucking her thumb and the class starting a thumb sucker chant.  What if they didn't wipe their butts well enough and smelled like doo-doo?  (they always wipe their butts good at home...I'm just an idiot).  At home they are like crazies with each other and spend half their day wrestling and trying to get each other's clothes off cause they think it's hilarious.  What if they tried to disrobe their new friend on the playground?!?  I was going nuts!  Finally, after lunch, I put Nate in his stroller and took a walk........to the school.  I walked around it, everything seemed to be fine, (duh), and I walked back home.  I am such a jerk.  I am really thankful for great friends who took the time to get hold of me, it really helped get my mind off things a little.
     FINALLY, it was time to get them off the school bus!  I stood there as the bus pulled up and the girls came running, Lexi first, with arms wide open and screaming until she got to me and gave a big hug telling me how awesome school was.  Dana said it was awesome as well.  So, I felt much better and listened for hours as they told me about their day.  Dana told me about a boy that said "kiss+kiss=girrrrrrl"  EVERY time she walked past him. 
     Day 2 came and was much easier on me.  The girls had just as many stories to tell when they came home.  One thing they agreed on was how mean the gym teacher is.  I told them he's just trying to get them going.  Lexi said, "Ma, he is just downright scary and non-motivational!"  I laughed my butt off.   I asked Dana if she has gotten in trouble for talking in class, I know her to well.  She said only a few times.  So I told her she better not talk in class, ever, AT ALL.  She said, "okayyy, okayyy, I'll whisper".  Ugh.  Lexi informed me she had not broken 1 rule, which is totally believable.  I began unpacking their book bags and lunchboxes, and noticed Dana didn't eat.  I asked her why.  She said she had changed her mind and got hot lunch because she wanted pizza.  Guess she has officially made a decision of her own now!
     Today was day #3.  The day started with us getting woke up half an hour early by a ringing phone.  So we got ready and sat around for about 20 minutes until I said it was time to go catch the bus, which stops at our driveway. We walk out the door and the bus is coming!  We run off the porch and dude drives right past us!  I don't know how he didn't see us.  And who misses a bus when they were ready to go 20 minutes early!  I called their Pappy to come and drop them off.  Then sat on the porch with them while we waited, and Lexi burst into tears!  I asked her why she was crying and she said, "This is one of my rules!  Come to class on time, and be prepared!"  I told her to stop crying, it was fine, she probably wouldn't be late, and that is wasn't her fault, it was mine.  She burst out crying again and yelled, "Ohhhhh, That's another rule!  Take responsibility for my own actions!"  I had to laugh, it couldn't be helped!  Hilarious.  They got off the bus and Lexi told me she wasn't finished with her juice box and put it in her book bag, it was dripping everywhere.  We went inside and I cleaned up that mess.  I asked Dana how her lunch was.  That morning she opted for the school lunch, chicken nuggets.  She said she didn't get one.  I was frantic and was like, "Well what did you eat?"  She said she ate the snack I sent with her.  One string cheese and yogurt.  She said she was full.  I explained to her that people were going to think I didn't feed her and never to do that again.   Then she told me her book bag broke, no surprise there.  So we had to go the store for a new one.  It's been eventful, but so far, so good.
     In other news, I bought a box of cereal.  When we got home with it, Lexi saw, that on the back, were cut-out badges for a police officer, which went perfectly with her dress up outfit. She grabbed some scissors and went to town. Later when I went to get some, I took a look and saw the perfect badge shaped cut that was made in the bottom of the cereal bag. So we are now the proud owners of a cereal pour-spout.
     I also bought the girls each a single serve, organic milk.  Dana was drinking hers and going on and on about how good it was.  My response was, "straight from the cows tit!"  Dana asked me what a tit was.  I told her not to say tit, but that it was a boob.  She starts screaming, "EEEEWWWWeeeWWW!"  I said, "Uhhhh, where did you think the milk came from?"  She say, "The cow's butt."  I was like, "So you'd rather have butt milk, then boob milk!?!"  This conversation prompted her to tell me she couldn't wait to go back to school and see someone with a wedgie.  When I asked her why, she said, "So I can tell them their butt looks hungry!"  Haha.

     Lexi had to miss a dentist appointment because Nate was running a fever. When she found out, I could see the anger in her eyes and overheard her telling Dana in a not-so-sweet voice that she had to miss her appointment because "stinkin Nate" was sick. So after I told her to get over it, the girls and I were sitting around looking at pictures, doing some reminiscing, when Dana suddenly points at a picture of herself and says, "That's before Nate was born, when I had a good life!" I was like, "WHAT?!?"

That's all there is time for now folks...but I'll blog again soon!

Super Bubbles

My kids and I do these "Super Bubbles" every year.  It's one of our favorite Summer activities.  I didn't come up with this, but I'm glad somebody did.  I've been doing it since I was a kid.  I thought I'd share the recipe on here, maybe you will try it out.  I know you'll love it!

You can see 2 things happening in this last picture.  1- even I'm having fun, and 2- my house still needs painted...it's a work in progress!

So here's the recipe...it's very cheap and really simple to do!

For the bubbles you will need:

• 1 bottle of dawn dish liquid soap (the plain-old school kind only..the new ones with added crap do not work nearly as well) (costs about $1)
• 1 bottle of glycerin it will probably say skin protectant somewhere on it (found in the pharmacy section--wal-mart is where I get mine)  (costs $3-4)
• water

The basic recipe calls for 1 gallon water, 1 cup dawn, 4 tablespoons glycerin.  I usually end up adding all the dawn and glycerin to my gallon of water, but you can mess around with the recipe.  Just combine these ingredients in a tub of some kind. 

I use a dishpan.  Stir them together gently, creating to many suds kind of ruins what it can do.

As you can see, there is plenty leftover, which I save in an empty jug for the next time.

The next step is making your bubble wands.  There are plenty of ways to do this, you can be creative.  Bend coat hangers, use fly swatters, etc.  I prefer yarn and straws for 2 reasons.  I always have both on hand, and you can make all different sizes.  All you do is cut yarn to any length desired, stick 2 straws on the yarn, then tie the ends of the yarn together. 

Your straws are your handles...dip these in your tub of super bubbles..and have fun!  Oh, and something I haven't tried yet but want to..is adding food coloring.  Enjoy!!!

blog...mythbuster-style!

     'Indecisive women'.  The simple task of picking a restaurant to eat at opened my eyes to the importance of blogging about stereotypes.  You've had the conversation, 'where do you wanna go?'~~ 'I don't care, where do you wanna go?'  This may be old fashioned, but isn't the man supposed to be the leader and the decision maker?  Should this conversation be less about me and more about your level of manliness?  Shouldn't a man be happy with the fact that he can choose to eat whatever his little heart desires?  Maybe we aren't being indecisive.  After all, we "indecisive women" are busy thinking about all the other petty, unimportant things we have to make decisions about.  Like the lives of your 3 children.  I decide what they will be eating for 3 meals a day plus snacks, that's a minimum of 12 feedings in case you lost count.  Then I decide to cook it so they don't starve.  Then I decide to have them brush their teeth so they don't rot out of their mouth.  Then I decide to clothe and groom them so they are clean and less prone to sickness and infection.  I decide to clean the house so everybody has a healthy environment to live in.  I decide teach my children morals and values so they grow up to be all that they can be.  I decide to play with my kids and tell them that I love them so they don't grow up to be serial killers.  I decide to show them how to do chores so they are not lazy down the road.  I decide to teach them things, like how to read, write and add, so they are not illiterate and can function in the world.  I decide to put them to bed at night, so that they can all wake up well rested the next day and prepared to have me make all of their decisions for them, all over again.  All 3 of them.  So I'm thinking, maybe we are just sick of making in excess of 1,000 decisions a day, so when it comes to something like where to eat dinner, I don't care.  I'm just happy I'm not cooking it!!!  P.S.  If you're asking me where to eat, then you don't know either, making you equally indecisive. 
     'Women are weak'.  On the way back from dinner (the establishment I chose, by the way) I told my husband I wanted these little mini Christmas tree things cut down in my front yard.  I asked him to provide a chainsaw for me to do it with.  He chuckled, and not just on the inside, which was his first mistake.  I told him I wasn't an idiot, the things are so small a butter knife could probably do the job.  He laughed again and told me I would need practice before I "just went out there chopping trees down".  I informed him that I wasn't going to go out front acting as if I were a greenhorn, I know how to be careful, and that I could handle it.  He ended the conversation by telling me he would do it.  That means they will be full blown pine trees before they are ever cut down.  That's not how it's going down.  I will get a chainsaw.  I will be cutting the trees down in all my protective gear wearing, blue collar glory.  One thing you should never tell me is that I can't do it.  Then it becomes less of a task and more of a dare.  There are better odds I get killed by some sort of assassin caterpillar out there, than me cutting my own arm off.  My point here is, why do men think women are incapable of things like this?  It's absurd.  I'm almost 5'3", Jimmy has friends smaller than me, (male ones), and I don't see him running to their house to prevent them from mowing their lawns! So clearly it's not a size thing.  Then what is it?  Oh yeah...I'm a chic!  I can't do manual labor!  I don't know what got into me!  I can't wait to see the look on his face when he comes home from work and those trees are gone.  Sweet, sweet, victory.  I birthed 3 people, how's that for manual labor?!?
     'Typical jealous women'.  I have to agree that these do exist, but speaking on behalf of myself and millions of other smart women out there, maybe it isn't jealousy.  I think it's brains.  Just an example, perhaps planning your buddies bachelor party at a strip club sounds like a good idea to a man.  I would never tell my husband not to go because I'm jealous.  Nope, I would tell him he's not going because I am smart.  Those girls want your money and will do what it takes to get it.  Your not staying home because their boobs are showing, your home because your ability to keep your money may be clouded by the fact that their boobs are showing.  Your welcome, now you'll have the money to retire one day!    
     'The wifey's PMS-ing'.  Sometimes, this may be true.  Some ladies do have it bad.  Instead of getting all pissy pants about their bad mood, just be glad it's not you losing bodily fluids all day and having major stomach cramping.  How about, bring them home a sixer and take the kids outside for a few?!  What you don't want to do is accuse your lady of being crabby cause it's that time of the month.  For all you know, she didn't get that promotion, then came home to the kids, to find they had cut her face out of all your wedding pictures to use them for a mommy collage, which they taped to her favorite shirt, and then stapled to the most expensive curtains in the house.  Followed by a food fight, someone cutting their hair off, some vomit, a broken toe, and a round of screaming sword fighting to top it all off.  Be kind, and since life has no rewind, take the load off of her for a little bit, instead of walking in the door talking about how sitting quietly in your air-conditioned car in traffic prevented you from arriving home five minutes sooner.  I'll guarantee she'd take sitting in traffic over another nose bleed session any day.  How about we start telling men to quit PMS-ing when they come home from happy hour talking about how their buddies girl problems are really hard to listen to (over a few beers).
     'Women aren't as smart as men'.  Another one that is true, in some instances.  But there are definitely women out there who are smarter than men.  Like those 'dumb' women who try to tell you it's important to check the fluids in the car and check it for leaks.  That seems dumb until your car overheats and you have a blown head gasket.  I apologize if there is a man reading this and didn't understand what I just said.  For the women, you may know what I'm talking about, if you don't, no worries!  Nobody expects you to know it anyways!  Some women do know a little something.  But I have to say, man's attitude has made it a much simpler existence for us!  If I want to go outside and work on a car, good for me.  If I don't I can just pretend I don't know what's going on, and poof, I'm out of it.  If I get pulled over, I can just pretend I don't know what he means by registration or speedometer, and poof, I'm out of it!  If I don't want to pump my gas or check my own tire pressure, I just say I don't know how, and poof,  If I'd rather sleep than navigate, I pretend I can't read a map, and poof!  The kitchen sink has a leak?  I don't know how to do that either!  Seriously though, men do the same exact thing.  That's why you never see them changing a diaper after they just built a house.  They pretend they can't figure it out, and poof!  We get out of doing way more than men do, which just might prove, we're smarter.  
     Don't take me too seriously here, my point is..men: don't stereotype us!  Haven't you figured it out yet?  We're always right!     Later y'all!  ~Jovial Jess   

Official tester: Ramen Noodle Diet

     Jimmy really likes watching shows he can learn something from.  The stuff on Discovery and The History channel.  I used to like stuff like that too...until I had kids.  Now, if I turn the TV on, I'm hoping for the most mind numbing shows possible.  The last thing I want to do when I get a chance to relax, is think.  So he was watching a show about how whales have figured out an efficient way to kill great white sharks, and may now be the most dangerous thing in the sea.  I hope that's true.  I've always had a fear of sharks.  Don't get me wrong, I am the kind of girl that likes to face her fears.  If I get the chance to swim with sharks...I'll do it.  But I'll definitely be sporting a chain metal suit!

     Even if I'm in a swimming pool, if I realize I'm the only person left, it's a mad dash to get out.  I don't want to be in there by myself!  You never know.  I realize the odds of there being a shark in the pool aren't great, but if somebody had it out for me they could even throw a few piranhas in there.  Which is even scarier, cause I could punch a shark away, but you're not punching a hungry school of piranhas off of you.  My BFF, April,  knows my fear and sent me this pic. 

     I really do wish Jimmy would stop making me watch all these educational programs.  About as much as I wish he would stop farting by me.  Or my milk for that matter.  I mean c'mon.  Milk is a sensitive thing. Nobody wants it if it isn't just right.  If it's a little warm you pour it out.  I feel like if you fart by it, it will go bad.  It sounds reasonable.  So why do people laugh when I start screaming that they have farted and curdled my milk?  April called me the other day to see if I had caught the latest infomercial on TV.  She said they are making blankets now that absorb the odor from a fart.  It's called a marriage saver.  I might buy it. 

     I saw Titanic. so you'll never get me on a cruise ship.  That seems stupid anyways, if I'm going to stay in one place, I can do it for free at home.
      I hate when somebody I'm in the car with spits out the window.  Spit and wind are very unpredictable.  Once it leaves your mouth you have no control over it.  What if that spit flies back in the car and lands on me?!?  I'm not crazy.  I have an example people!  My Dad and brother were going to work one day and Josh spit a hawker out his window and it flew back in and landed on the inside of my Dad's sunglasses, so he was staring right at Josh's hawker!  1. Ewwww  2. Dad was pissed.  If that ever happens to me, run.

     Have you ever woke up and realized you slept on your face wrong?  Sleeping with your ear bent in half.  That crap hurts.  It's only happened to me a couple times, but my ear hurt all day.  I never knew cartilage was so sensitive.  Now I always make sure my ear is flat when I go to bed.  Talk of body parts reminds me of another problem.  Sometimes I get sick, and when I do, I lose a bunch of weight.  When I get down to 100 pounds people start thinking I have an eating disorder.  Can't say I blame them, but I have recently thought out my plan of action.  I will have t-shirts made!  I'll order them to say things like: ~Crackpipe'n it!  ~I poop a lot!  ~Official tester-Ramen Noodle diet!  If people are going to talk, you might as well do it up!
     And while we are mentioning how I look I might as well share this story with you.  My hubby, Jimmy, went out with his buddy one night.  Jimmy tried to drop him off at home at the end of the night but he had drank to the passing out point.  So Jimmy drove home and his friend stayed asleep in our car.  I wake up to a knock on the door about 6am the next morning.  It was his friend.  I opened the door to let him in, and the guy looks at me and yells, "Damn, I thought I looked rough in the morning!"  I laughed so hard, but what an idiot!
     I happened across an interesting website the other day.  It's a payback, revenge kind of site.  Instead of sending flowers, it will send dead ones.  It has stories and ideas of revenge.  Some of them are just wrong, but some are great.  Here's the link if you want to check it out.  It'll provide some laughs. http://www.thepayback.com/revengestories.html
     That's it for now...until next time!   ~Jovial Jess

    

          

    

    

    

  

Got Baby?

     I was looking at my belly flab from having a baby 7 month's ago.  Actually, it's probably just loose skin.  And just in time for pool season!!!  I am so lucky right now!  I have always dreamed of going to the pool with weird gut!  Seriously though, I know you ladies will agree with me, how unfair is this post-baby-body business?!? 
     First, we are blessed with the ever awesome period.  How convenient!  There is no day like the one you leave school early because you think your butt is bleeding.  Only to lock yourself in a bathroom with a mirror between your legs while yelling to your mom, "Which hole is it!?".  If your mom was anything like the lady I had to put up with she'll probably just start laughing at you for asking.  Then the years of running to the bathroom when you don't even have to pee, just to change a tampon, and if your lucky a few minutes later you really will have to pee, then you get to change your tampon again or risk walking around with a wet string in your undies.  I can't forget to mention the obsessive need to find a friend and whisper, "okay, I'm gonna walk in front of you and you tell me if there is anything on my pants".
     What are we blessed with next,  a baby!  Oh, the joys of pregnancy!  Isn't it great?  No period for 9 month's!  Instead you'll find yourself falling asleep on the job, taking naps like your my 80 year old grandpa.  Your heads bobbing while your making dinner, and you quickly realize the best time for a nap is anytime you stop at a red light.  And I say take advantage of it.  Throw it in PARK, and let some annoyed driver's horn wake you up!  Anytime you are fully awake, your stupid.  That baby is sucking the life out of your brain.  You forget everything from putting on your bra to unplugging your curling iron and simple spelling. 
     You'll be peeing more than the family drunk, but you can't drink.  Don't worry though because your husband will be kind enough to drink for the both of you!  Some parts of your body, previously unseen, will be exposed, like the inside of your belly button.  While other parts you could see all the time, like your va-jay, will be nearly impossible to see without some outside resources (like a mirror).  And you WILL get a mirror, cause you'll be grooming the crap out of it.  You'll have a few reasons for doing this.  One, your husband has been made fully aware that these 9 month's should be taken full advantage of, since it's the ONLY time he's going to get near you without protection.  Two, your doctor might be a hottie, so your damn sure gonna tame your beav before you go to an appointment.  Number two will keep you grooming on the regular, you never know when an emergency will land you in his office.  Number 3, your doctor is a chic.  You already know she doesn't like you that much and she's plotting any way possible to force natural child birth on you.  The last thing you want to do is piss her off by leaving a jungle down there for her to sort through.  You don't need the whole run down.  Basically, it's the most uncomfortable 9 month's of your life.      
     Then the day comes when you get to give birth to an actual person.  A WHOLE person.  That just means you better expect whats coming out of there to be huge.  In my case, 8.8, 8.9, and 9.1 pounds.  If you don't know what that feels like, I'm happy for you.  Everybody says it, and it's true, you really do think you're going to die.  My eyes were literally wide open, and I couldn't see!  It was completely black in the room.  THAT is blinding pain.  Not to mention everybody thinks you're a psycho because of your labor behavior.  Word to the wise, if a lady in labor ever asks you for a tissue, you better pass her ~A~ tissue, not the box of tissues... unless you plan on getting that box thrown at your face.  I'm just glad after a couple of month's, everything is back to normal.  IF your doctor knows how to give some proper stitches that is!  If the stitches are bad you end up with the nickname "flappy taint".  Okay, okay...you do get an awesome baby out of the whole deal, so it's all worth it in the end.  But why after you go through all of that do you have all these other things to deal with?  Haven't we been through enough already?  We are left with stretch marks and sagging skin, fat pockets and love handles.  I mean seriously, before I had kids I had 1 ass and 2 legs.  Now I have 2 "asslegs" as I like to refer to it.  My belly button can double as a cereal bowl, and my tummy sticks out farther than my chest.  I guess it doesn't help that the family 'Double D's' didn't get passed down to me, I'm an official member of the IBTC.   I think God had it wrong when he did it this way.  I would have set it up where we could just lay an egg.
    
         

My little brother.....I call him Vanilla

    Prepare to read the funniest blog yet!  Make yourself ready to find out how bad a little brother can really be.  My little brother Josh is 11 months younger than I am.  He was my only sibling until a couple years ago, when my Dad married an awesome gal and I acquired 3 more brothers and a sister.  People always asked us if my bro and I were twins when we were growing up.  Aside from that, there were no similarities between the two of us. 
     It all started almost 27 years ago, when my brother came home from the hospital.  That day I showed my little baby brother who the boss was when I slapped him across the face.  What can I say, I wanted to teach him early.  He spent the next 10 years trying to get his revenge by ripping the heads off of all my barbies and chewing their feet off.  But, for the most part, we actually got along well. 
     He was the orneriest kid I've ever known.  He used to wake up early in the morning and climb the counters in the kitchen and eat all the sugar cubes.  The only reason he was up before the rest of us is because he had a nasty nose-picking habit and every night at my house you would here him picking and my parents screaming at him to stop.  In the evenings you could find him standing by the fence next to our neighbors house.  We grew up in California so all of our neighbors spoke Spanish.  When the people next door would go sit outside to relax, you would hear Josh over there babbling to them like he was talking to them and knew how to speak their language.  How embarrassing!
     Once he started school it was a nightmare.  The kid refused to learn how to tie his shoes!  We were late for school almost everyday while he was forced to sit in our driveway until he tied them.  The big shocker came just a few days into kindergarten when my parents got a call from the school to let them know that Josh had tied his teacher's shoelaces together during reading time on the special carpet.  I couldn't believe it!  He knew how to tie his shoes all along and was doing this on purpose to get out of a few minutes of school! 
     He was in trouble at school everyday.  My dad would have to go pick him up, or the principal would paddle him.  How do you get suspended in kindergarten?  He was so bad!  His teacher would be teaching and realize Josh was missing.  He always found him over in the corner playing with his hot wheels.  Those were all confiscated.  His teacher had more of his hot wheels than he did by the end of the year.  Luckily that teacher had me the previous year so he didn't think my parents were complete idiots.   My first grade teacher got Josh the year after she had me as well.  He had gotten worse over the Summer though.  He actually got suspended more than he was at school that year.  They wouldn't hold him back because nobody wanted him in their class.  When recess was over he would (amazingly enough) tie his shoes together and throw them up on the roof of the school to get out of going back to class.  But not before his teacher caught him peeing on the fence and throwing spit wads on the bathroom ceiling.  She finally had enough and transferred him to the most militant 1st grade teacher ever.  Even she was no match for Josh.  When she told him what to do, he just grabbed his crotch, flipped her off, and said, "Right here lady!".
     Summer time was interesting with him around.  The Summer after first grade in particular.  While he was riding his bike my dog Smokey was chasing him.  I kept pleading with him to be careful but he ended up running my dog's tail over.  Within a week the tail fell off and I had to bury it in the backyard.  We had a little dog tail funeral for it.  My dog looked weird after that. 
     We were always out playing in the desert.  We came across a huge hole in the ground.  Probably 8 foot deep and 8 foot wide.  Immediately we thought we'd hit the jackpot and would have the best fort in town.  Then we saw a huge stash of porn.  I was out of there...quick.  I later found out Josh had hung around.  When one of my parents was putting away his laundry they found a stash of porn in his dresser!  A few days later he got upset about something and said he was running away.  We didn't believe him.  The parents figured he was hiding out in the back of the truck and tried to water hose him out of it.  When that didn't happen they had a look and realized he really was gone.  It took my Dad some time to find him.  He hid in a bush when he saw him coming.   Dad pulled over and went in the bush and came out with Josh in one hand and a teddy bear and a pillowcase full of hot wheels (no pillow) in the other.  I guess when it came down to it, he thought he'd only need his hot wheels to live. 
     I remember we would watch E.T. almost every night.  And every night I would have to walk him to his room, turning every light on along the way, tuck him in, and then shut the lights out when I left.  He was so afraid of that alien! 
     We were riding our bikes down the road one day and Josh turned and flipped off a guy driving past.  The guy followed us home and told on us. 
     Josh wanted to race me to see who was faster.  So we hopped the fence and took off.  I was winning and turned to look at him right as my tail-less dog ran in front of me and tripped me causing me to roll under a car, smacking the exhaust pipe, and breaking my leg and ankle.  At least Josh ran for help.  That began our days of sitting on the couch together eating Kool-Aid ice cubes and listening to Alvin and the chipmunks on cassette tape.  When we got bored with that we would fight over whether we were going to watch, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, or Jem and the holograms.  A kid in the neighborhood had the coolest bike, everyone wanted a turn on that thing.  Josh got his turn first and then brought me the bike.  He had failed to tell me the bike had no brakes.  I was hauling ass down the street, and went to stop right before the end of my road, where I would enter a busy intersection.  I quickly figured out myself, the bike had no brakes, and rolled straight through the intersection.  Luckily, I didn't get run over, but I still couldn't stop.  So I kept going until the only place to land was directly into the fence approaching quickly in front of me.  I smashed into that and flew off the bike.  Thanks Josh. 
     Josh woke up one day and his eyes were stuck shut.  I think it was from eye cheese.  Looking back on it I don't know why he was stuck like that all day.  I would have put a warm rag on it if I was the adult.  I had to help him eat and everything.  It was kind of fun taking care of his blind butt. 
     I used to make him chase his shoe all the time.  I wish you could all see it.  He would throw his shoe across the room and then, like a dog, he would run after it and go crazy with it, then do it all over again.  It was hilarious!  It was all fun and games until he decided to get himself a 5 finger discount from Sam's Market, the local convenience store, and my parents made him turn himself in.  Hope the gum was worth it!   
     Just before we were teenagers we moved to stupid, freezing West Virginia.  We started school and it didn't take him long to make a name for himself.  I remember one day in particular.  A kid at school had jumped off the swings and broken both of his arms.  I knew this because when he came back to school the principal made him spend his recess holding a sign that said that's how he broke his arms.  The same day the kid was holding the sign, Josh got suspended for calling a little lady 'chocolate girl'.  Now don't go getting all upset about it.  I think it was probably more of a compliment in is eyes cause I think he liked her.  In case you didn't figure it out, this is when I started calling him Vanilla.
     There was a time Josh brought one of his friends home and they were watching wrestling.  I just simply commented on how fake it was and this kid burst into tears!  He had no idea it wasn't real.  I had no idea why Josh would want to be friends with a big cry baby. 
     Vanilla was constantly getting me into fist fights.  He would be a punk and I would beat people up so he wouldn't get beat up.  I have no memory how many times that happened.  I lost count.  I am my brother's keeper.  Any time my parents left the house I'd have to hurry up and lock all the gas cans in my bedroom because I always caught him and his friends huffing gas.  Another time my parents left, Josh and I decided to go through the house and gather a bunch of stuff to have a yard sale.  We laid it in the yard on a tarp, but found ourselves thinking we needed some advertisement.  So I sent Josh to the end of our street to scream YARD SALE every time a car drove past.  There is a video of this somewhere, and it's a great one.  A lot like the video I shot of him making his own music video to Salt N Peppa's "whatta man", it's a must see!
     In the top five funniest things I remember was when I was rudely awakened from my sleep early one morning by my neighbor yelling.  I looked out the window and saw that the guy was walking up and down our street yelling, "I know who did this you son of a bi***!  I'm gonna F***ing kill you, you sick bast**d for putting Sh** in my mailbox!"   I knew immediately it was Josh, rolled over, and went back to sleep.  When I woke up Josh told me I was right.  He pooped and put it right in our neighbors mailbox.  And not in a bag either, he just stuck it in there.  This wasn't his first rodeo with poop, He left it in places like the Library book drop off slot, the handles of the UPS truck, and our neighbors porches.
      As we got a little older Josh's voice started to crack when he talked.  I told him that he was going through puberty.   He didn't know what puberty was.  Of course I'm not just going to tell him!  I made him guess, and then try to figure it out by putting it into sentences.  I wish I had it on video because I know I let that go on for a solid 20 minutes, laughing the whole time.  But the only sentence I can recall is, "I slam dunked the puberty!".  Soon after that I woke up one morning and found him sleeping on the couch.  I figured this was my chance and slapped some bright blue and pink eyeshadow on him, some blush and some lipstick.  Then woke him up and asked him to go outside (and clear down our street and across the main road)  to check the mail.  I watched him the whole way, waving to the neighbors.  He had no idea he looked like a drag queen!  It was one of the coolest ideas I'd ever had.
     Being the responsible child I never got up late for school.  Josh was late everyday, and I mean everyday.  In fact I had to get up early just to have time to try to get him out of bed.  I got him up because my Dad threatened to make him walk to school if he was late.  I don't know exactly how far it was, but I took a cab home from track practice once and it cost 23 dollars, so the school wasn't close.  Then the day came.  The day I woke up late for school.  Guessing yet?  Yep, my Dad told us to start walking.  I was so mad!  My Dad always tried to be a fair man, but this???  So we started walking.  About a mile into the walk I convinced Josh we should just hide under a bridge until school was out, then walk back home.  Of course it didn't take much convincing.  There was only one bridge so we climbed under it.  We should have kept walking.  The underneath of this bridge was lay down  or curl up room only.  We were smashed all day long, and had to ration our lunches like we were on Survivor.  We walked home when the first bus rolled by, and my Dad asked of if we went.  I guess I didn't plan ahead for him interrogating us.  So in the end we fessed up and realized we wasted a whole day of our lives squatting under a bridge. 
     We got a little older and some idiot at the DMV actually passed my brother on his driver's test.  I'm positive the DMV has to regret that decision.  Of course I didn't want to ride with him.  I was forced one day when my family was invited to dinner at someones home.  We got there and immediately the old lady that lived there starting hitting on my brother...and she took it way to far.  Then she got sloppy drunk and started fighting with everybody.  It was crazy, and nobody was saying anything.  So I finally said, "Screw this, I'm leaving.".  Two cars, my parent's- who weren't leaving, and Josh's- who couldn't wait to leave.  I knew Josh would likely kill us, but I had to get out of there.  By 2 miles into the ride, I was sincerely scared for my life and told him he better pull over and let me drive or I'd kick his a**.   I have NEVER ridden with him since, and that was 11 years ago.  And I never will, since I don't have a death wish.  Without exaggerating he has probably had 20 cars and wrecked or blown up every last one.  And I'm pretty sure he has blamed a deer every time.  I don't think there is hope for him. 
     I saved the best for last.  When Josh was in 5th grade, as was expected, he refused to do well in school.  He used every last available resource to get out of doing anything, including even showing up.  He never once did his homework, and he probably spent most of his time in school with a hall pass so he could go clog up the toilets.  I never expected what happened, and to me it proved he was actually pretty smart.  Apparently, he was telling all his teacher's that his mom was handicapped and wheelchair bound.  He said his life was really hard for him because he had to take care of her all the time, so it was hard for him to concentrate in school, and it was impossible for him to do homework.  No joke, that actually worked for some time.  Then it all came crashing down when his mom showed up to parent/teacher conference day and introduced herself.  The teacher just looked at her and said, "Where's your wheelchair?".  Haha!  Well Vanilla, you had a good run while it lasted! (love you Vanilla)          

Diarrhea can ruin everything.... if you let it.

     I realize diarrhea isn't the sexiest subject in the world, but when I recall my experiences with it, whether it involved myself or somebody else, I knew I had enough material for this blog.  You're probably wondering what got me on this subject, and no, I didn't have an accident today.  It all started with a trip to the carnival.  I should take a moment to tell you about it.  I watched as Jimmy got swindled by a fast-talking carny at the 'pop a balloon with a dart' booth.  He ignored me as I stood behind him saying NO over and over.  When he realized what happened and we walked away, all he could say was, "that guy must own this thing."  I wanted to kick him.  The girls and I hopped on the weakest carnival ride ever.  It ended up being funny because the little girl sitting behind us kept yelling, "I'm gonna die!"  Me and the kids were cracking up.  Of course that reminded me of the time we took the girls to Kennywood.  They were 3 and 4.  They insisted they could handle the ride that goes around like a ferris wheel, only you are in a cage, which you can also flip around in.  Against my better judgement, I let them try it.  They got to the top and starting banging on the cage and crying and screaming relentlessly, "Get us off of this!  HELPPPPP USSSS MOMMMMM!  Stop this!  Help!!!".  They actually had to stop the ride on my kids behalf.  You would have thought that Freddy was in the cage with them the way they were acting.  As I thought of this story another came to mind.  The time Jimmy and I took a trip to the beach with another couple.  It was my goal to ride the Sling Shot.  Jimmy is not fond of my thrill seeking and did not want me to do it.  Luckily, an old friend of ours, Alex, was in the area the same day Jimmy had planned to golf.  So with him gone, and somebody willing to ride this thing with me, I was set.  I figured if I did it and lived, then Jimmy couldn't be mad at me, and he wouldn't have to worry about me dying because by the time he found out about it I would have already done it.  (He still got mad by the way).  We walked to this towering bungee jump ride.  There was no line, so we got right on, with my best friend watching from the ground.  We opted out of purchasing a dvd of our ride, which was a huge mistake!  I wish I wasn't so cheap.  That thing shot us up so high and so fast!  The whole time I was screaming how awesome it was, but Alex wasn't having the same luck.  The only thing he was yelling was how his balls were being smashed repeatedly.  When we got back to the ground a crowd of a least a hundred people had gathered.  I thought it was to watch us and see how it worked.  I looked at my best friend who went with us and she was laughing so hard she couldn't speak..she was beet red, doubled over in laughter.  As it turns out, the ride is equipped with a microphone.  My immediate thought was all these people heard me screaming and cussing about the rides awesomeness, it only took me about two seconds to look at Alex and burst into laughter because hundreds of people just heard him screaming about his balls for several minutes straight.  I was hysterical.
     Here's where I started thinking about diarrhea.  On that same trip to the beach, my best friend April and I went parasailing.  We were waiting patiently on the boat for our turn.  We watched some people go ahead of us and they were being dipped in the water, which freaked me out because  HELLO!?!  There are sharks in the ocean people!  Right before our turn I realized something didn't feel quite right..and then it happened.  I was praying, please please let it be just a little bit and not come out of my bathing suit..please!!!  It was a little scarier than the thought of a shark attack at that point, because once we were in the air I told April that I hoped we got dipped in the water 30 times so I would come out of it with a clean bathing suit.  I would rather get eaten by a shark then sit on a boat with 8 strangers smelling like poop!  Thankfully the water dips worked.
     I don't get out much, so when I planned a trip with April to go to Kennywood for the day without the kids I was so excited.  A whole day without responsibilities!!!  When we got there, neither of us felt well.  I think it was the Burger King.  We spent about 2 hours learning where all the bathrooms were, since we both had to go every five minutes.  We tried a couple rides, but got tired of squeezing our buttcheeks together.  So we cut our trip short.  The ride home took twice as long as it should have because it was so bad I had to pull over every few feet and hug my steering wheel for dear life trying to hold it.  That day the diarrhea did ruin everything.
     Another time I went on a little trip with a few friends.  We were driving around looking for a place to have a few beers.  My friend sees a gas station and says, "You should stop here, I have to go to the bathroom.  Oh never mind, I can wait."  We passed the gas station by just a few feet and she starts screaming in horror, "GO BACK!!!  It can't WAIT!!!".  The problem was, we were on a one way street.  She was panicked, she starting sweating and crossing her legs, squirming all over the place.  She kept putting her head in her hands saying how she was going to poop right there in front of all of us.  She's yelling, "Find somewhere to stop NOWWW!  I can't hold it!  It's gonna happen NOW!!"  I was seated next to her trying to comfort her like a good friend should, but I had to keep turning my head and laughing to myself because this was so hilarious..she was freaking out!  I kept saying we should just find an empty parking lot because this diarrhea was coming now.  After about 5 agonizing minutes we finally found a parking lot where my friend and I hopped out.  I got out because I had offered up the shirt off my back to cover her while she went and then also for her to wipe with when she was done.  That's a good friend right there!  We were in position, when another friend spotted a restaurant across the parking lot and convinced her to try to hold it just long enough to get there.  My friend was in obvious pain still screaming, "GO, GO, GO!!!  I can't do it...hurry UP!!!!"  Me; still laughing to myself.  We jumped out of the car and sprinted to the restaurant, which was closed.  I busted us through the front doors anyways and ran to the nearest employee who could sense there was trouble and pointed us towards the bathroom, the whole way my friend was sweaty and in obvious pain.  We bust through the bathroom and get her into a stall.  She didn't emerge for a good half an hour, just to be safe.  It was horrendous.  I'm just glad she can look back on it and laugh, because it was one of the most hilarious scenes I'd ever witnessed.
     I feel bad about the time I picked a friend up from work. For some reason I had to have a milkshake. My friend kept telling me they had to go to the bathroom, but I insisted they could hold it an extra minute to run through the drive-thru. I was wrong!
     One day I was standing in the kitchen cooking, when someone (who wishes to remain anonymous) came in to talk to me while I cooked.  All of the sudden, out of the clear blue, anonymous went off on me!  Yelling at me to get the H*** out of the kitchen!  I decided to avoid the argument and get out...it wasn't until a couple years later that person told me they had crapped their pants and didn't know what else to do.  So there you have it.  Diarrhea can ruin everything...if you let it.
       
    

Dinner, dogs, dreams and drugs.

     Thanks to all the people who bothered themselves to read my first blog.  So far I really like doing this blogging thing.  I may have to give up farmville to have the time for it.  Truth be told I needed a reason to escape farm life.  I went as far as to buy a dog on that game.  I had to feed the dog once a day or it ran away to the pound.  It ran away alot.  I wonder why my real life dog doesn't run away?  Maybe I'm not trying hard enough.  Perhaps I should create a mix tape of subliminal dog messages.
     I thought you would all be interested to know the different things I have broken teeth on.  Here's the list.  Bazooka bubble gum, hard tacos, soft tacos, biting my eyeliner when I lost my sharpener, and most recently a reese's pieces.  That's what I can remember anyways. 
     In another string of unfortunate events, two days ago I went out to dinner with the hubby.  That's not the bad part.  It was the service and what it led to.  A long wait, no refills, and they came and put my husband's food on the table and never brought my order.  My husband was kind enough to share.  Kind of made me feel like we were Lady and the Tramp, minus all the carbs that would have left me feeling full.  We head to the in-laws to pick up the kids.  Because I was starving I snatched a reese's piece, just one, out of the candy bowl.  It was the hardest one I'd ever eaten so I spit it into a napkin, only to find that I was actually trying to eat one of my teeth.  Nice.  As we head home I noticed that what's left of the tooth is slashing my tongue.  I walk in the house and head for the mirror.  I wasn't sure what to make of what I saw.  That tooth had a filling in it, before I tried to eat it.  The tooth and filling were gone but apparently they put a metal post in and built a filling around it, because what's left looks like a nail sticking straight out of my gums.  Literally, no tooth, no filling, just a tall, skinny, sharp nail thing.
     Me and my nail-tooth wake up the next day and start cleaning.  Around 5pm I noticed my house looked worse than when I began.  After trying to get through to my family nicely about picking up after themselves, I declared I was on strike.  Nobody seemed to care until they got hungry, and I said, "Go make yourself a sandwich, I ain't cooking, I'm on strike."  The looks of devastation and bewilderment on their faces let me know that if I can just keep this up, it just might work.  My husband had to keep asking me where things were at, so that he could do all the things I normally do for him.  Like set up the coffee for morning, get his work clothes and alarm clock ready, ect.  I just layed on the couch and said, "I don't know, I'm on strike."  I thought he was going to pop a vessel.  I forced myself not to get up and do it for him, and made sure I never laughed while he was watching.  Really, what would they do if something happened to me?  A bunch of spoiled pansies is what they are.  At any rate the strike was alot harder than I had anticipated.  I did it for 12 hours, most of which we were all asleep for.  In the end I cleaned the house.  I lose.
     As I was sitting here typing this up, I heard my youngest daughter talking in her sleep.  I have had some fun experiences with this so I ran to see what she was talking about.   As I walked in she yelled, "IT'S A GAME I PLAY!!  I PLAY IT!  HEY SIS?  I WAS LOOKING AROUND LIKE THIS AND LIKE THAT AND LIKE THIS AND I SAW A SHOE!!"  As I got closer she kind of woke up and saw me, she said in a drunk type voice, "The twisty things are fuuuuun.....funnnnn, they bend!" then she asked me, "How do you spell bear-bills?"  Back to sleep she went.  Ha!  Earlier this evening at dinner our other daughter told us she had a dream that she walked out of our house and got stuck in a pile of spaghetti and had to eat herself out of it.  Haha!
     When I was growing up my brother talked in his sleep all the time.  About 1am every morning I went in his room to listen to what funny crap he was going to say.  The best time was when I got my parents to listen with me.  Turns out I picked the perfect night for that.  He was talking about riding in a car with my dad.  All of the sudden he says, "Gimme the keys fat a**, I'm driving!"  I burst into laughter.  My dad, not so much.  That was hilarious.
     My mentioning that I need to go to the dentist and all this talk of people doing funny things and having no control over it reminds me of the time my oldest daughter went to the dentist to get a couple of busted teeth pulled.  She was 7.  Her dad took her.  When they got back my husband showed me a couple of pics he took of her after she was drugged up.  She looked high, and my husband said she kept saying she couldn't feel her body, and that she wanted to hear Fergie sing.  When they got back I made her sit down because she kept bumping into the walls.  I sat with her.  After a minute I looked over at her and saw her with the pencil that she brought home from the dentist.  She had the unsharpened end pointed towards her face and she was staring at it with one eye open like she was in some kind of trance.  Funny, but I confiscated the pencil.  She said she was sick of sitting and could prove that she could walk.  I let her try.  She was very serious about it and made her best attempt.  Basically she stood up and shuffled her feet in super slo-mo, but she was moving her arms about a hundred miles an hour.  She looked like one of those speed walkers except she wasn't really getting to far.  I was laughing so hard.
     Time to go make homemade rice krispie treats, thanks to my BFF for the awesome idea!!!   ~Jess          

My first blog!

     My first blog.  I figure this is the perfect outlet for me.  Mostly because my pens and paper are always disappearing.  Of course it's never the kids fault, so I figure I have a ghost.  A ghost that likes pens, paper, eyeshadow and roast.  I decided to do this to tell all the funny stories from my day to day life, most of them involving unfortunate events...and I may even vent a little bit.  :)

     I always say I have bad luck.  It's true.  If it can happen, it probably will.  The greater the odds against it happening, the better the odds it will happen to me.  I plan ahead for worst case scenarios.  Most of the time my bad luck is hilarious.  Like the time I took the kids to the park with the duck pond.  I'm pushing the stroller around the lake, I turn and look just as a duck decides to fly at my face in kill mode.  Keep in mind, I had been mobbed by ducks prior to this duck-attack and nearly drowned when I had to stay under water to escape their wrath.  So I cover my head and hit the ground screaming.   Anybody who saw it was laughing at me.  It's hard not to laugh at it yourself, once you realize you're gonna live.  Stories like this are a dime a dozen in my world. 

     Then there are the things you can laugh about later, but aren't really funny when they happen.  Like when my daughters were 1 and 2, and I realized my house got quiet.  I saw the bathroom door was shut and made a beeline for it.  I open the door and find them both in their birthday suits, covered head to toe in vaseline.  I had to bathe them twice a day for a week before they stopped looking greasy.  Their hair looked wet all week.  The day they returned to normal, they did it again.  I haven't owned vaseline since.  At the time, not so funny.  Looking back on it....hilarious!  Oh, and the time something was wrong with my eye.  My expert opinion was my eye was probably going to fall out.  It was so sensitive to light I had to wear an eyepatch in the dark.  My kids thought this was great.  Yelling, "Arg!  Walk the plank, ye scallywag!", everytime they saw me.  I harrassed a Dr.'s office for 2 weeks before the secretary stopped asking me to get a referral and made the stinking appointment.  I went in and found out that if I had waited much longer I would have gone blind.  I told the Dr. all about his simpleton secretary.  He told me it was his wife (insert foot in mouth).  He said on extremely rare occasions a person can get a cold sore in their eye.  I've never heard of such a thing.  That story wasn't funny until my eye stopped hurting. 

     All these crazy things that happen from day to day make my life more interesting.  Last Saturday was a good example.  The kids and I are all up at 7am.  I decided to take the three of them to the donut shop.  They were pretty excited about it.  We drove down and walked in.  I quickly realized I had just taken my kids to their very first gambling joint.  Awesome.  At least they had a few pathetic looking donuts I could buy the girls.  I got out of there as fast as possible!  Wasn't to happy about all the people gambling their lives away looking at me like I was the crazy one.  After we left there I had to stop for a gallon of milk.  The local produce store was the best option because I needed some fruits and veggies too.  We pulled in and saw they didn't open for about 10 minutes.  I should have left when I saw that every elderly person in town was outside the door like it was black Friday.  But the doors open and we head in.  It was like a stampede!  I've never seen old people move so quickly, my kids were nearly mowed down.  I guess I didn't realize how important a good honeydew was.  We got out of there.  Back home to eat our donuts, and I'm in productive mode, so we head to the grocery store.  I tried out a new one that was supposed to have great deals.  Fail.  As I was thinking of leaving I hear this chipmunk version of a pop song I hate, that happens to be my husband's ringtone.  NOOooooo!  It's like nails on a chalkboard.  I figure out my husbands phone ended up in my purse and answer it.  I thought he'd sleep in on his day off, but he wanted me to go back home so we could all go shopping.  Now we are all headed to the mall to get a birthday gift for my niece.  I get the baby out of the car and realize he peed through his clothes.  Not only has this never happened, but it's the first time I left home without extra clothes for him.  First stop, buy baby a new outfit.  Head in to the next store and run into a mallfull of screaming trekkies, there were hundreds of them, girls, boys..even some adults, who were there to see some dork from twilight.  Are these people serious?  This turd was charging an arm and a leg for pics and autographs, AND making them buy a ticket to stand in the line for it.  It was like a Jonas Brothers concert in that piece.  It was about 40 degrees outside and these 12 year old girls were wearing miniskirts.... that's bad parenting on so many levels.  Next on the agenda was Wally World.  That place is my arch enemy.  Actually, shopping in general is a nightmare to me.  Anyways, good news!  I found my niece a cute beachbag on sale for 7 dollars!!  Happy birthday to both of us with a deal like that.  At the checkout the hubby decided to take the girls in the arcade, I met them in there and proceeded to open my chocolate milk, which proceeded to explode.  Unbelievable.   Back home to unload groceries.  That was all before noon.  I got this crazy idea that I would try to take a nap.  After 20 interruptions from a barking dog with mental issues, and my daughter informing me that she clogged the toilet I gave up on that dream.  I had to pee, but not before a 20 minute toilet plunging session.  I should have just gone in the utility sink.  Then I had to scrub my toilet and floor.  Next I head to the kitchen and find my floor is soaked.  Apparently I developed a leak under my kitchen sink.  So an hour and three wet pairs of socks later, the kitchen was restored back to its prior level of cleanliness.  Ughhhh.  As I walked out of the kitchen I noticed somebody let the dog out of the cage without taking him directly outside first.  Now I'm busy cleaning the poop off the floor in my hallway.  Thanks hubby!  I am currently plotting revenge.  I'll keep you posted.  We eat some sloppy joes for dinner.  Sometimes my cooking lacks.  I said, "These sloppy joes taste like metal."  My eight year old says, "It does!  Kinda like that time I had to put a coin in between my front teeth."  To which I reply, "Why did you have to do that?"  She says, "BECAUSE my hands were full!"  Uhhhhh.  Later we realized my other daughter could easily hold a buck fifty between her front teeth since the middle 2 recently came out.    My 7 year old daughter tries to help me around the house.  She goes in the laundry room everyday and wipes down the top of my (clean) washing machine.  This day I walked in there and found she had taped a note to the top of it.  "PLEASE KEEP THIS WASHER CLEAN :)"  Seriously?!?  I guess I should just tape notes to every surface of my house.  Who knew?  About 10pm my husband wanted to go get all his work clothes out of the car and throw them in the washer.  A few minutes later my girls come running to inform me the laundry room is flooded.  Oh Yay!  For a moment there I thought I would be bored until bed time.  Aahhhhhhh, go to bed up a few times with a 6 month old that refuses to sleep all night, and a 4am awakening when my dog starts barking like an idiot.  I thought about offing him.  I guess I have to stop being patriotic and take down the flag on my front porch since the dog barks at it relentlessly every time the wind blows.  Note to self: buy a muzzle...ehh make that a shock collar.

   A day in the life of Jess.  Not every day is this crazy, but somedays are worse.  I'm gonna end it there for now though because I think I'm catching a buzz...there was an ant on my floor (tis the season) and the kids drenched it with hairspray.  Until next time!