The Big Day...

These pics are from the festival on Wednesday night...I don't know what the kids will decide to be tonight. But, I do know it won't cost me a dime! WooHoooo!

First we have a basketball player (Ave's buddy down the street) and Avery the army man...



Next, the cutest witch ever who didn't want to mess up her rad red highlights with a silly witch hat...



Here's Lord Sidious from Star Wars...most people probably don't even know the guy, hell I don't..and we had to do lots of explaining at the carnival...but Jack instructed me on how to paint his face and when I found a pic online to check my work...Jack did a pretty good job.

The first one is Lord Sidious before the carnival, looking rather sinister...



This one is of Lord Sidious when we told him it was time to leave...still looking sinister, and now scaring the bejeezus out of me....little kids are creepy when they're mad, especially when made up to look like lords of the dark side...



Lastly, our little hot dog...funny, he has a sinister look, as well...the "you're gonna be so pissed when you find out where I'm going to pee" kind of sinister look. Nope..that's utter humiliation...



Ya'll have fun...I'm sure we will!!!

Holy Crude Oil, Batman!!!

For the past several months I've put just $10 here and $5 there worth of gas in the suburban because I don't drive it that often...well, hell, we couldn't afford to drive the damned thing.

I went to put gas in it today and you could've knocked me over with a feather...it was $2.08 a gallon.

For a measley $40.00, I got nearly 3/4 of a tank of gas!!!

Makes me wanna fill up and head west just for the hell of it!!!

Ya wanna know what makes me happy?

America's Funniest Home Videos!

Yep, that's it. Not world peace, or my smiling children, 8 straight hours of sleep, or Chipotle burritos...nope, not those things....

America's Funniest Home Videos!

Either I get great pleasure out of seeing other people make jack-asses out of themselves, or my brain has been completely ravaged by the dumbing down of society...either way, I friggin love that show.

All 6 of us sit on the couch after dinner and watch the show forwards, backwards and in slo-mo and laugh our asses off. It's the greatest thing ever!!!

Uncivilized...

No, my family is not being raised by apes. Lily requested a spaghetti dinner sans silverware for her birthday dinner and against my better judgement...I obliged. I dreaded it and couldn't fathom the mess that would be made, but to my surprise and really to my disappointment...they were no messier without silverware than if they had used forks for their meal. Hmmmm...interesting!

If you're a member of PETA...please don't read!

I hate rats! I mean...I hate them...the damn things FREAK ME OUT! I'm terrified of them. Something about how quick they are and all the scurrying...ooooh...they give me the willies.

Before I begin the story...let me explain. They aren't rats...they are actually tiny little mice that live in the fields around the house, but the image that my brain receives from my optic nerve looks nothing like sweet little Jerry!

So, they were living in the walls. We had already killed one rat family when we first moved in...but, a new clan had arrived and it was time to reclaim our territory! But, we had no traps, so I was instructed to go to Wal-Mart and get traps to kill the rats while the kids were at school.

Jake was playing basketball early in the morning and I was getting the kids ready...when, I'll be damned, if one of those furry little bastards didn't dart out of the pantry straight into...guess where...MY OFFICE...where my computer lives...where I spend ALL a little of my time! So, I leap up onto a stool and start directing the children to find the thing and shoo it out of my office. Picture me...grown ass woman in her pajama pants and robe, bedhead and bad breath...perched up on a stool, holding a broom...screaming at the top of my lungs for the children to save me. They were in hysterics and had no intention of helping me whatsoever!

The rat has now perched itself up on our 7 foot tall bookshelf...this is another phenomenon that freaks me out about the rats...they can climb slick vertical heights! Oooooh, the willies! So, we're at a stale mate...everytime he moves, I scream and scare the bejeezus out of him...I was probably giving him the willies! I tell the kids to hurry off to school and they give me a hug without making me come down off of my pedestal...huh...on a pedestal...exactly where I always wanted to be, but DEFINITELY NOT under these circumstances!

Went to Wal-Mart to get the traps, but they were all out...completely...so, I settle for the glue traps...I know, I know...I wasn't thrilled about having live mice stuck to little pads of plastic around my house...but, at least they would be in one place and not running around. Jake could dispose of them when he got home.

I set the traps...and wait. Jake was working late and the rodents continued to terrorize me throughout the day...that was such a fun day! I'm laying in bed waiting for Jake to get home...all is quiet, the kids are asleep...and I hear it...EEEEEK, EEEEEEEK...GOT ONE! The rat is terrified and I'm overjoyed. The trap was under the sink, so with the broom handle I open the door and there he is sprawled across the glue trap...STUCK LIKE CHUCK!! HaHa!!!

Jake gets home and I show him my trophy and tell him what a horrible day I had and how I couldn't even get on the computer...and I tell him "the good news is...I got the rat...the bad news is...he's alive!" He's not thrilled and now HE'S afraid to reach in and grab the sticky pad with the live mouse on it and throw it away...notice how when I'm involved, they're rats...but, Jake...he's just scared of a little ol' mouse!!

So, we decide we need to kill it, then dispose of it...to be humane. We choose our weapon and Jake picks Jack's air-soft gun...the one with the bright green bulltets the size of a pea. Jake takes a few steps back, aims and fires...EEEEEEK...he just hits the thing on the side and hurts it...and from experience I know it really does hurt. He adjusts his aim, gets set and fires....BAM...right in the eyeball...and the bullet STICKS there!

Good news...the mouse is dead, a bullet to the eyeball...bad news...he looks like a crazy Tim Burton creation, or a rat exposed to Gamma rays...this tiny little mouse, stuck to a glue pad, one black, beady eye and one BRIGHT green pea sized, bullet-eyeball! WTF??? My stomach starts turning and I'm starting to wretch a little...it was a little sad and SUPER-DISGUSTING!!! I'm gagging and wretching and Jake yells..."Awwww, man...LOOK AWAY, LOOK AWAY...I told you to get the traps, not the glue pads!!!!" It ended up being not very humane..AT ALL!

That should teach them not to mess with me!!!!!

I'm at a good place in my life...

I have to say...I'm quite proud of myself and my kids...and I guess my husband had some small hand in it somewhere down the line.

For the past month or so, the kids have been telling me who they wanted to be for the big day...Indiana Jones, Darth Vader, Hannah Montana....they rattled off a list of characters for which I would not only be paying for the costume, but the name and the packaging...all I could see was $$$$$$.

I've always kept all the kids old Halloween costumes...for play, for hand-me-downs, extra costumes for multiple parites, etc.... So, in our attic is a large tub with remnants of Halloweens long ago. The other day, at gun-point...Jake climbed up there and brought it down. Hey...it's football season and a girl's gotta do what a gir's gotta do...plus, it was only a BB gun.

When that tub was placed in the middle of the living room...it was magical! The kids faces and eyes were aglow with Halloweeny happiness. They tried everything on, danced and played around...it was amazing to see them so excited about a box of old costumes.

The best thing about it all...the kids have decided to create their own Halloween costumes from bits and pieces of their old ones. So, I can't imagine what they'll come up with...but what I can see clearly is that this year...I will spend a big, old, fat $0.00 on costumes!!!! That's the kinda shit that makes me happy!!!

Here's what makes me so proud about this whole thing...first, I'm proud of the kids for not being so materialistic that they HAVE TO HAVE the newest fad when it comes to dressing up. I'm also extremely proud of their creativity, that...and it should make for a good laugh. Don't worry, I'll definitely post pics of their masterpieces. Lastly, I'm quite proud of Jake and I, as parents. I'm proud that we have instilled in our children that creativity and making something for yourself is fun and something you can be proud of...and I'm quite proud that I'm not one of those psycho moms that will spend a fortune on every accessory for each costume, hair dye, nose jobs...whatever it takes...so the kid looks EXACTLY like the real thing.

This year...I CANNOT wait until October 31st!!!!

Shitty Mood...Day 2

Well, the gift my leathered friend sent yesterday did lift my mood some...but, my high from the zippo didn't last too long. The thrill soon gave way to rabid frustration when I never could figure out how to light the damned thing! Stupid, Stetson wearing, malignant, Marlboro man!

I feel this way a couple of times a year...you know, just really pissed off. I had a hysterectomy and my husband translated it to a PMS-ectomy, he was ecstatic...but, oh what he didn't know then. Sure, I don't get all PMSy every 28 days, no, now I get a psychosis that sets in for 30 days about every 6 months. Doesn't that sound fun? I mean, to me, it's TOTALLY worth it...no pads, tampons, cramps...all that shit. My husband, on the other hand...well I checked the history on the computer and he's been researching uterus transplants. He can have the damned thing trasnplanted into his abdominal cavity.

Just a mildly severe (is that an oxymoron?) case of temporary psychosis. The typical mom shit that no one but other put upon mom's understand, like:

• my kids don't listen to a word I say...in fact, they only acknowledge my existence if they need money, food, permission for something, their asses wiped, or are just bored out of their wits and feel like annoying the hell out of me.
• my husband...he runs his own agenda and well...he only acknowledges my existence when he's randy...which, thank goodness, the psychosis has thwarted. so, lately, it's never!
• the dog, who is supposed to be MY dog...he only acknowledges me between the hours of 8-11am M-F when he and I are the only ones in the house...if anyone else is here...I'm chopped liver...well, no, a dog would probably LOVE chopped liver...I'm kitty litter...no, the sick little bastard would probably like that, too...the vacuum...he HATES the vacuum, that's it...I'm as useless to him as the vacuum.

So...I'm really feeling sorry for myself and feeling TOTALLY put upon and taken for granted. Who am I kidding...I feel this way pretty much 365 days a year..that's the bad news...the good news for my family is that I'm only pissed off about it for 30 days every six months.

Red Letter Day

Well, I'm in a shitty mood. I didn't know what to blog about besides the fact that I'm in a shitty mood, so I sat down to start the ranting and raving. But, before I started typing, I decided to check the mail...well, I'll be damned...if my day didn't do a complete 180!!!

When I opened the mailbox...I saw it immediately. A little red package. I knew what it was and could barely wait to get inside to open it. I sprinted inside...and, I mean, you would have thought I had just received my Little Orphan Annie Secret Society decoder pin or something.

I opened the package and there was this perfect little black velvet box. I opened it as delicately as you would handle a butterfly...that's when I glimpsed my treasure for the first time. My very own, stainless steel, zippo lighter, decoratively etched with guitar strings and pick...straight from the Marlboro man himself!

Now, before you start in with your rendition of "you don't always die from tobacco....sometimes you just lose a lung," let me explain...Jake and I consider ourselves "social smokers." For some reason, when I have a beer in my hand, I have the tendency to light up a fag. I don't know if I'm trying to look cool, or bored..maybe Freud could explain...but, it's what I do. There.

The last pack we bought had this questionairre attached and an offer to receive a free zippo. More than anything in this world, I love free stuff...so, OF COURSE, I went to the website, jumped through some hoops and 2 weeks letter comes the little black box that saved the day!

Me, Circa 1988

There are so many wonderful things about this photo.

First, I'll address the giant mullet, of course. Go ahead, get jealous...you know you tried to grow one too and you're only mad because I rocked mine so hard!

Next, check out that shirt...in case you can't tell, it's just run of the mill, straight up, cotton fabric. Not "comfy, oh-so-soft, t-shirt" cotton, but instead its, "don't throw those sheets out there's still some good fabric on there that isn't too stained, let's sew it together and make a shirt" cotton. All this time I've been shopping at Old Navy for school clothes, when everything my kids will ever need in the clothing department is right here in my linen closet. Geniuses, my parents were!

Lastly, I'll address the poofy heart earrings. I'd like to thank my parents for making me wear those...for, had they not, I may still bare the scars of a life-altering gender identity crisis!

Thanks, Mom and Dad!

Face it...boys have a penis and girls have a vagina

In our house...I've taught my kids the actual names of their anatomy. Some use "PP", "privates", "weener"...all the cutesy little names kids call their nether-regions. My parents called my vagina a "ya-ha". WTF? What the hell is a "ya-ha". Well, it is not uncommon in our house to hear the following phrases:

"Mom, she kicked me in my penis!"
"Mom, he threw the ball at my vagina!"
"Mom, there's something in my penis!" (see the post titled, 'There's a splinter in your WHAT?!?')

Anyway, I personally don't think there's anything wrong with kids saying 'penis' and 'vagina'. The same way saying stomach and tummy are the same...so are "PP" and 'penis'. Let me back up...my kids don't just run around the house yelling "PENIS, PENIS, PENIS, PENIS"...well, I mean, sometimes they do...but, they definitely don't do it in public. And, for pete's sake...they're not dropping F-bombs!! These are appropriate words for their anatomy.

A little while ago my kids were in the Kids Klub while I was teaching yoga...I went to pick them up and Avery was in time out. The overworked, underpaid, wrung out looking pleasant child care worker explained to me that he had said the word "penis". I asked in what context and she said, "He came up to me and said that Jack hit him in his (she leans in to whisper the word) penis." I immediately turn to Avery and say, "Oh man, is your penis okay?" The lady didn't think it was very funny.

My point is, I think people are too sensitive to those words. Of course, there are times that using it is inappropriate...like if they run out of the bathroom right after a shower, jump in front of the tv, and with the carefree glee only a 4 year old possesses, they exclaim, "Look at my penis!" I agree, that is a little too much. And, in my defense, that is something that we're trying to stop Jack from doing. But in the appropriate context...I have no problems with my kids saying penis and vagina. In fact, I quite enjoy the look on people's faces when they hear my kids use those words.

Farewell, Dear Friend...

I'll never forget you. I'll never forget those lazy mornings when you were the only one who could lure me from my cozy lair. I'll never forget those afternoons around 2pm when the day starts to drag and you were the only one who could stoke the fire in me, motivating me to last just a few more hours until reinforcements arrive. I'll never forget how you even made my food taste better while we stared at one another at the table. You were there for me when I needed you, but I must move on.

So...farewell, dear friend...I'll miss you!

What's it to you?

Here's something I don't get..."never discuss religion or politics". Let me first say that I would probably agree with that statement if the person I'm discussing it with say, has a gun in his hands...or is my boss and has my salary in his hands. A situation like that. But just discussing the subject...what's the harm in that.

I feel like we should be strong and proud of our beliefs...strong enough to withstand criticism and judgements of others. I also feel like we should be understanding and willing to listen to the beliefs of others.

• What I think shouldn't affect the way you think in any way.
• My beliefs or disagreement with yours shouldn't hurt your feelings and vice versa.
• How do we expect change and growth to happen if we can't talk about things?
• If friends or acquaintences are willing to disassociate themselves with me because of my beliefs...then good riddance!

I mean, people have to be civil and avoid personal attacks. But, even if it does go there...that's a fault of the person making the attack...not of you.

I just think it's silly that we are guarded and careful about what we discuss...especially when it's regarding our own beliefs. I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR OPINIONS ON THIS.

Mommy, that really chaps my hide....

My sweet, shy daughter and I just had our first fight. It wasn't over friends, or boys, or hair, or shoes...it was over Pace Picante Sauce!!!

Lily has loved to eat chip's and salsa since she was little bitty and it's her favorite snack. We were out of salsa and she had been asking me to get her more the next time I went to Wal-Mart. I was getting out to run errands and planned on going to Wal-Mart and said if I did, I would get her salsa. Well, I decided not to go and came home without the goods!!

OMG...the child's world crashed in around her!! She put on this face...a face that can make your skin crawl and she was pissed beyond recognition. She stormed off to her room, slams her door and throws herself on her bed. She didn't speak to me for probably an hour...she didn't speak to anyone, for that matter! I was kind of glad though...I can't imagine what kind of thoughts were going through her pretty little head! To be honest...I was a little afraid of her! The same kind of fear I had for those weird "Goth" girls in high school. The ones who wouldn't speak, you could never see their eyes because their hair was always in their face, but you wouldn't make eye contact with them even if you could see them. I knew behind all that black and hair they were secretly planning my torture and demise...that, or casting a horrible, horrible spell on me.

She calmed down and came out of her room...her face wasn't nearly as contorted, so I was no longer afraid. I explained to her, "There are more important things in life, than salsa" and "Salsa would come and go, but Mommy will be here forever" and "Tis better to have had salsa and eaten it all, than never having had salsa at all" and "Don't worry you'll see, there will be more salsa."

She seemed to understood and it was good preparation for her first broken heart!!

Mother ____-ing GREEDY ___-holes!!

YOU FILL IN THE BLANKS!!!

"AIG execs planned SECOND resort trip after bailout" - http://www.nydailynews.com/money/2008/10/08/2008-10-08_aig_execs_planned_second_resort_trip_aft.html

$443, 000 on a luxury retreat!!! Are you kidding me? FOUR HUNDRED AND FORTY GRAND!!!!

My family is living on peanut butter and Ramen Noodles while I'm in school and the economy crashes around us! And these ass-holes spend $23,000 on spa treatments!! WITH MY MONEY!!!

Oh man...I can feel my blood pressure rising...I better stop before I have a stroke!

I said that?

As a mother of boys...these are things that I say on a regular basis...that still surprise me everytime I say them.....

"The next person to pee on the curtains is going to be beaten!"

"Put the gun down and eat your broccoli!"

"Quit pointing that gun at me and do what I said!"

"No farting on people, that's gross!"

"Put some underwear on, I'm tired of seeing your penis!"

"You didn't 'accidentally' fart...I saw you raise your leg!"

"Get out of here, you're bleeding on my carpet!"

"He let you stab him, now let him stab you!"

"Just flush it, I don't want to see your poop!"

BOYS!!!

Vote now for the Shittiest Mom of the Year 2008!

This post is rated R...for strong sexual content.

Avery, my 9 year old, was playing outside yesterday with his buddy down the street...all was well. He then comes running in looking a little guilty, I didn't think much of it, and plops down on the couch and sits in front of a black tv screen...now I know he's guilty. The kid cannot lie to save his life!!! He has been cursed with an honesty gene...it does make it easy on me when my 3 start pointing fingers at each other when someone does something wrong. Avery cannot tell a lie.

Anyway, lo and behold, the doorbell rings...GASP! It's 4 little girls from down the street who range in age from about 10-13. They are soaking wet and muddy and have been playing in the rain and in mud puddles. They tell me..."Um, Ms. Bullock (damn I'm old), um, Avery and John (his name has been changed to protect him since he's a minor child), well, they were being mean, then John called us dumb asses and told us to..." here comes the R rated part..."he told us to suck each other's, well, these parts (she motions toward her flat chest where breasts will later be)". WTF!!! What do two little boys ages 7 and 9 know about girls sucking each other's boobs??!!??

Oh man...does the shit hit the fan!! I take a second to calm down so I don't rip all his hair out, out of anger. I confront him...he is still in front of the blank tv screen and his eyes are as big as golf balls. I give him a chance to tell me what he did wrong...but, he says, "I can't tell you, because it's a bad word and if I say it to you, I'll get in trouble." Now, this "playing dumb and innocent" actually works in his favor, because it reminds me that he is a very frightened little boy who is about to be tarred and feathered and he knows it!

I'll skip all the back and forth..."Tell me what you said!"..."No, I'm scared"..."You should be scared."..."Waaaaaaaaa"..etc, etc.... I send him to his room to wait for his punishment. I have found that this is one of the most effective punishments I can give my children. Sending them to their room to wait and wonder what in the hell I'm going to do to them. From what I can tell, it's torture.

I decide that first, and foremost, I should wash his mouth out with soap. I cut a 9 year old mouth-sized piece from the bar of soap and sit him on the tile, in case he pukes, to take his punishment. I tell him I want to see teeth marks in the soap. I sit him down, shove the soap in his mouth. I go to finish up dinner while he's washing up! I leave him there for about 15 minutes...he's gagging, and drooling and fidgeting, and moaning...I have him facing the wall and I ignore it all. Dinner is done and I go to remove the soap and tell Avery to go brush his teeth and get ready for dinner. His shirt is soaked from drool and he's sudsing at the mouth. He sits down to dinner, but won't eat because it's too hot. He pokes around at his food, then goes to bed.

I go to tell him goodnight and this picture is what I find. I don't know if it was just irritation, a chemical burn, an allergic reaction, or what...but, it looks awful and I almost...almost...felt sorry for him. Out of a mother's compassion...and guilt...I gave him a benadryl and some A&D ointment and kiss him goodnight.

Now...in my defense...we have these 3 teenage boys who live near us, who think it's funny and fun to teach the little kids these very adult words and phrases. Avery explained to me that that kid told them about the "sucking boobs" thing and "dumbass"...and John is a little bit mean and was saying this stuff to the girls and Avery kind of chimed in. I do believe Avery on this...he really can't lie...but, as a mom, I DO NOT want to believe that my child would come up with something like that...so I might be delusional. Regardless...Avery is grounded for a week.

So, men...ya'll are perverts and it starts at a VERY, VERY young age. I guess seeing the girls in a juvenile "wet t-shirt contest"...was too much for the boys and the fantasy of girl on girl action that is engrained in their DNA boiled to the surface WAY before I thought I would ever have to worry about that stuff. SERENITY NOW!

Overprotective moms....

got into a discussion the other day about bullies and hazing and protecting our kids from harm. i was listening to these moms say that any time their kid has an argument or a run in at school...they rush up there, rip the principal a new one and demand that something be done to protect their kid!! ranting and raving about the physical and psychological damage that bullying causes. now, i don't deny that it can cause damage...but, i don't think it has to.

we, as parents, can only do so much to protect our kids. we can't be there 100% of the time to watch over them, nor should we be. there are things we can't control and that stuff happens. bad things happen....they just do. if parents had the power to prevent bad things from happening to kids....they wouldn't happen. there wouldn't be any accidents, molestations, abductions, etc.... there wouldn't be a parent out there who would "let" any of these things happen to their kid.

the best way for us to protect our children is to teach them to protect themselves.there are most def circumstances where adults should intervene, but for the most part...teach your kid to stick up for himself.

how about teaching your kid at home about bullies and the sort...why they do what they do...that they should never let someone else influence how they feel about themselves...teach them to be more aware and not set themselves up in a situation where they could be bullied...teach them to use intelligence and wit to outsmart bullies...teach them to rally their friends and plan something to get the punks (not to hurt anyone) if they are being bullied. if taught these things at home to fight their own battles in the world, then these kinds of situations would build character instead of destroy it.

i know kids can get hurt when this stuff gets out of hand...that's the flip side...but, you can't control other people. no matter how hard we try, we can't stop people from being mean, or evil, or stupid....we have to teach our kids how to handle these situations.

losing my son didn't make me more protective...it showed me that no matter what...shit happens. all the "want to's" or "should have's" or "could have's" in the world wouldn't have saved my son...so, i've learned to lighten up and enjoy life a little...and let my kids enjoy theirs as well!!

Part of your nutritious breakfast...

So, we're out of groceries...and I mean we were out. Nothing of substance anywhere in the house. Busy weekend, we were hardly home, so I didn't make it to the store until this afternoon.

I had to feed my kids something so they wouldn't be miserable at school and this was the best I could come up with. In case you can't tell from the picture...that is an iced oatmeal cookie in his right hand and a shot of whipped cream in his mouth. The whipped cream was Dad's idea!!!

It could be worse, right? Oatmeal is a breakfast food and the whipped cream is dairy...I'm not SUCH a bad mom!!