Gonna party like it's 1999!!!

Rather than one, long, ginormous New Year's post, I'm going to break this thing down...and don't have me break this thing down for nothin'...now I wanna see ya'll on ya'll baddest behavior...lend me some sugar...I am your neighbor!

Sorry, I got carried away channeling Andre 3000. You can take the girl outta the hood, but you can't take the hood outta the girl!

I'm going to reflect on 2008 over the next week. Hell, let's make it 8 days. I'll follow suit with Alicia, at Two B's And Me and I will give 8 valuable lessons I learned this past year. This will give me time to really think about it...and check in with myself to see what will stick with me about 2008.

Ya'll be careful tonight...don't do anything that I wouldn't do. Here's a list of things that I wouldn't do on New Year's Eve in case you need it for reference:

1. Stay sober! Bor-ing!
2. Kiss someone other than my significant other at midnight!
3. Go streaking! No, strike that...because ya just never know!
4. Pass out before midnight!
5. Drive drunk!...so pack your jammies!

That's only 5 things I wouldn't do...no, wait...I removed one of those. So, only 4 things I wouldn't do...that leaves it wide open!

Have fun..and...

Are you there, God...It's me, Nikki

Stay with me here, folks...we're going to swing out wide, then come back around to make a point...I promise!

I consider myself spiritual, not religious. I feel like we all have the ability to be as close as we want to, to God, or Allah, or Muhammad, or Buddha...to whomever we pray...without someone standing in a pulpit telling us what we should and shouldn't do and even worse...impressing fear and guilt on a congregation.

My personal beliefs...I believe in a higher power...I don't know who or what he/she/it is...but, I believe in an afterlife and a spiritual existence. I just don't choose to associate myself with any one particular religion. I don't judge those who do or try to impose my beliefs on anyone else...and hope for the same in return. To each his own...and what a miserably boring place this would be if that weren't the case and we were all the same!!!

On the other hand, The One doesn't really believe in a higher power. He's analytical and a realist...and ALWAYS keeps both feet firmly planted on the ground. Most of the time...this is a perfect balance to my wandering mind.

Alright...we're going to start the wide-swinging...

In my Psych class this fall, I learned about the refractory period during sexual stimulation. It's the period of time after an orgasm, during which a man/woman cannot climax again. Most women have a very short refractory period, if they have one at all. Most men have a refractory period that is at the very least, several minutes and can be hours or even days! This is something we've all pretty much figured out for ourselves, though...without the psychology dudes explaining this to us.

Last night, I got to thinking about these refractory periods. I thought to myself:

What would it be like if it were the other way around? What if men had multiple orgasms and women only one and then a lingering refractory period? Men already have a souped up sex drive...can you imagine if they also had the ability to have multiple orgasms? They wouldn't work, or eat, or sleep and our species would've died out very soon after it began, because men would spend all there time in their personal Masturbatoriums.

Which then led me to think:

This might be the most convincing argument I've yet come across, that there is indeed an intelligent design. Someone up there knew what he was doing. Someone up there knew that:

testosterone + no refractory period = extinction!

When I argued my point to The One last night...I even had him questioning things a bit!

Alright...thanks for sticking with me...I told you I'd bring it back around and tie a nice, neat, pretty little bow around it. So, maybe it's not a nice, neat bow...maybe it's string and twisty ties and whatever I could find handy...but, you get my point, right?

I'm alive! WooHoo! Thank God, I'm alive!!

Christmas came and went...just like it does every year, and unfortunately, I say this with much joy and jubilation! I'm just so happy to have survived it!

Don't know what made this year so stressful...but it was! I'll try to figure it out and change it for next year.

One big problem I'm running into is the whole Santa thing. The One Who Knows Everything is onto us...totally! Why am I surprised? He knows the truth...he knows the big guy isn't real, but is just being kind and not completely fronting us out...maybe for the sake of his brother and sister.

The One Who Doesn't Say Much...is starting to question the process...but, staying true to form...she's not talking! The One Who Gets Away With Murder...he still has the carefree spirit of a 5 year old and totally believes...but, the questions are coming. I can feel it.

Am I alone...or do you all feel like a putz for lying to your children? To build a case for myself in the future...I've never said the words, "Yes, Santa is real." I dance around the truth with OJ Simpson-like agility..."I didn't put the presents there...Daddy, did you?"..."I've never seen Santa...have you?"..."Do you think he's real?" "If the Santa suit doesn't fit...you must acquit!"

I feel like I'm setting them up for major disappointment. I don't want to lie...but, I don't want to kill the spirit of Christmas for them at such a young age. I don't know about your Santa...but, ours is broke. Broke as a joke. As they get older, they're asking for bigger and bigger things. This year...The One Who Knows Everything asked for a laptop...Santa can't afford shit like that...and definitely can't afford shit like that for all three of them!! Santa asked Dr. Soos (my mother) to help a jolly-brotha out! In perfect Grandma form...she obliged. She spends the night with us on Christmas Eve and after Santa gifts in the morning, we exchange gifts with her.

The look of disappointment on The One Who Knows Everything's face was crushing when he saw that Santa hadn't brought his laptop. Part of me was thinking, "Look, you little asshole...you have no idea how hard it is to get you everything you want for Christmas...your Dad works his ass off, we cut back and save...just to get you the things you want...Don't you dare pout, I will beat you on Christmas!" But, then...it dawned on me...he's wishing and hoping to this magical, make believe person to make all his dreams come true...to give him everything he asks for...and all he has to do is mind his parents! In his defense...I'm sure it's a little disappointing when you ask the big guy for one thing...and one thing only...and you wake up and it's not there! I'm sure it's a pretty big blow to a nine-year old!

Then it gets me thinking about the people who are financially much worse off than we are...how the hell do they give their kids what they ask for? I can totally see why those growing up in low income families, or poverty stricken households are more likely to participate in criminal behavior...THEY'RE PISSED OFF! Probably because Santa disappointed them year after year...they hoped and wished and behaved their little asses off...all for nothing. Then they find out..."Oh, by the way, he wasn't real anyway...you were never going to get all that shit you wished for! Now grow up and get a job...life sucks...DEAL WITH IT!" I'd probably start shooting the place up, too!

I'm just having a real problem with the whole idea of Christmas. Not religiously speaking...I get all that and have plenty of issues with that, as well. I mean, I know I turned out just fine believing in Santa and all...but, I'm just wondering...is it all necessary?

The Twelve Days of Christmas, Bullock-style...

I'll spare you all a video of me singing this little ditty...Christmas is stressful enough already without you having my singing voice ringing through your ears this holiday. You'll have to sing these lyrics yourself!

On the 1st day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…a migraine that could bring a mammoth to his knees!

On the 2nd day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…two dozen houseguests, and a migraine that would bring a mammoth to his knees!

On the 3rd day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…three feuding children, two dozen houseguests and...DRUGS...I'm going to need drugs for this headache!

On the 4th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…four holiday parties, three feuding children, two dozen houseguests and a migraine that would bring a mammoth to his knees!!

One the 5th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…FIVE OVERDRAFT CHARGES…OMG, seriously? Are you F-ing kidding me??, four holiday parties, three feuding children, too many people to feed, and a migraine!!!

On the 6th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…six hours of sleep, FIVE OVERDRAFT CHARGES, four holiday parties, three kids that won't SHUT UP..., two dozen houseguests, and a labotomy...that's what I need for this headache!

On the 7th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…seven days on a beach…oh wait, no…I dreamed that...F$&*...six measly hours of sleep, five overdraft fees...looks like we'll be having this for dinner instead:

four holiday parties, three annoying children, two dozen houseguests, and a migraine!!!

On the 8th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…eight strands of lights, seven days on a beach...I wish!, six hours of sleep, five assholes at the bank, four holiday parties, three feuding children, two dozen houseguests and a migraine that would bring a mammoth to his knees!

On the 9th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…nine thousand gifts to wrap, eight strands of lights that never work, seven days on a beach, six measly hours of sleep, all those overdraft fees, four holiday parties, three feuding children, two dozen houseguests and a headache...for the love of all that is sane and good...WHY AREN'T THESE DRUGS WORKING!?!

On the 10th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…ten TV specials, nine thousand gifts to wrap, eight strands of lights, seven days on a beach...yeah right, six measly hours of sleep, five overdraft charges, four holiday parties...”oh yeah, good to see you, too…how are the kids?…could you show me where your shotgun is!?!”...three awful children, two dozen houseguests and that horrible, horrible headache!

On the 11th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…eleven pairs of pajama pants, ten TV specials...that clay-mation abominable snowman FREAKS ME OUT:

nine thousand gifts, eight strands of lights, seven days on a beach, six hours of sleep...i need more sleep, five...F#$% F#@% F#%#, four holiday parties, three little rugrats, two dozen houseguests, and a migraine!

One the 12th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…twelve bottles of cheap wine…it looks like this is the only way we’re gonna survive this, people...eleven pairs of pajama pants...you won’t see me in sequins or silk…it’s flannel for me, all season long, ten TV specials, nine thousand gifts to wrap, eight strands of lights, seven days on a beach...that's all I wanted...DAMMIT, six hours of not near enough sleep, five overdraft charges, four joyous parties, three nightmarish children, too many houseguests and a headache that will be the death of me!!!

Merry Christmas you guys!!!

Dear Santa...

Depending on who you ask...I've been pretty good this year. I'll keep this short and sweet...

All I want for Christmas is the ability to shower, evacuate my bowels and do "laundry" with my husband...without the children banging on the door, yelling through the door, or lying on the floor shoving their hands and/or notes under the door.

I'll level with ya...it's bad. They will not give me five minutes to myself. I didn't need to get rid of my uterus as a means of birth control...the children don't give The One and I enough time alone to ever come CLOSE to reproducing any more of their kind.

Is there anyway you can help me out with this problem? Maybe soundproofing for my bathroom walls, an impenetrable force field I can surround myself with...no, that will inhibit the "laundry"...what about a shock collar or a electric fence to keep them away from the bathroom/bedroom door!!

Is that too much to ask. If you think about it...it's a gift the whole family will appreciate. We all know that this would protect my sanity, which will trickle down to the well-being of The One and the children!

So, think about it...see what you come up with...and drive safe, big guy!

Love,
Nikki

P.S. I am impressing an embargo on the following items...prohibiting them from entering our home...just in case they made it on one of my children's lists:

Guns
Knives
Any sharp or blunt object that can be used as a weapon
Drum sets
Microphones/Megaphones
Amplifiers...the little shits are loud enough on their own!
Wrestling video games...this is for the safety of the dog and others!
Anything worth more than $25 bucks...they will just destroy it or lose it anyway!
Any of those FurReal things...dogs, lions, parrots...those things are just creepy!
No live pets please...I have enough trouble feeding the 5 of us and the dog!

Thanks for your cooperation!

Ya do what you gotta do...

People tell me all the time, "I don't know how you do it. I don't know how you go on after losing a child. You are so strong."

To tell you the truth, I don't feel strong. Very often, I feel weak and fragile and frail. I think surviving the death of a loved one is more about perseverance than strength, and I think it's more about honor than bravery.

How do you do it? You dig down deep, pull yourself up by your bootstraps and you put one foot in front of the other. Some days the steps are quick and steady and a brisk pace is kept...some days they are heavy, slow and painful, but forward-moving just the same.

The world spins only forward, friends...so, we might as well dance!

Thanks for all the warm wishes today!!

Eleven years ago today...

I began one of the most challenging, yet rewarding jobs that anyone can have. Eleven years ago, today...I became a mother.

We knew that The One I Miss So Terribly would have to fight to live. We found out in my 18th week of pregnancy that he had a birth defect called Gastroschisis. His abdominal wall had not completely closed during development and his intestines developed on the outside of his body. We were told that when he was born...they would take him immediately to surgery and they would simply slip his intestines back in through the existing hole, then close him up. It was supposed to be simple...pretty cut and dry, and he would be left with only a small scar. It would turn out not to be anywhere near that easy!

I was being closely monitored by a Perinatologist and my C-Section was scheduled for the 4th of February, roughly 3 weeks before his due date. In early November of 1997, I had a dream. I dreamed that he would be born before Christmas. I don't recall the dream, or the details of it...I just remember telling The One the next day, that we had to get ready because the baby was coming early. I even told my family and insisted on my shower being held in November before Thanksgiving.

On December 15, I started having contractions. The doctors said I wasn't in labor, that it was just Braxton Hicks contractions...but, I knew. As I stated before, a mother knows! I kept contracting and they would try to send me to the regular floor of the hospital, but my contractions would pick up, so they would move me back down to Labor and Delivery. They had me on ridiculous doses of Magnesium to stop the contractions...the baby wasn't coming, but my uterus was pissed off! Three days later they finally decided to do an amnio to see what was going on. When the fluid was drawn...the room fell silent. The fluid was black...it was bile...the baby had been vomiting in-utero.

Things began moving quickly...everything was a blur. About an hour later...I was in the operating room. I was groggy from all the drugs and remember the room spinning and desperately looking for The One...I was 20 years old and I was terrified! When Joey was born, the doctors knew it was bad immediately. His exposed small intestine was black and necrotic. His intestines had twisted, cutting of the blood supply, and had died. I didn't even get to see him when he was born...they immediately whisked him away to the NICU. They would be rushing him straight to surgery, to see just how much of his small intestine was gone. It didn't look good...it looked like a significant portion had died. Your small intestine works to absorb nutrients from the food you eat. Without it, you cannot maintain adequate nutrition and you cannot survive.

They rushed me into the NICU to see my baby before he went into surgery...they wanted me to see him at least once in case something happened behind those double doors. When I saw him, I didn't see the tubes, or wires, or leads...I didn't see the bandaged mass on his belly. I saw my boy...my perfect baby boy. A part of me and a part of The One. He was beautiful...all 4 pounds, 10.5 ounces and 18 inches of him! He arrived EXACTLY seven days before Christmas on December 18th...a mother always knows!

They took him away and we waited. I was being moved from recovery to my room on the postpartum floor, so the time flew by. The hours seemed like minutes and the surgeon returned to my room. I could see it on his face. The news wasn't good. Joey had lost 90% of his small intestine. He could possibly survive with 40%...but, definitely not with only 10% of his small bowel. I remember the surgeon saying that the GI docs didn't want him to finish the surgery. The GI docs told the surgeon, "When you saw how much was gone, you should have just sewn him up and said there was nothing we could do. This baby doesn't stand a chance." I didn't understand that kind of talk. He was MY baby...my perfect baby boy...and he would fight. And put up a good fight, he did!

You all know how this story ends. Although it's not the happy ending we all desperately desired...I wouldn't change a bit of it. I wouldn't be where I am today if I hadn't experienced this great loss. I treasure these memories. I was fortunate enough to learn at 20 years old lessons that some people never learn in a lifetime. You heard me right...I'm lucky...I gained perspective, depth, meaning, understanding and compassion.

This time of year is extremely special to me. It represents and reminds me of so much about my firstborn and about life. While we were cleaning last weekend I came across Joey's keepsake box...chock full of letters of congratulations and sympathy...diapers no bigger than a maxi pad and tiny outfits that would be too small for a doll that my sweet boy wore in his first few days of life. It contains outfits and socks that he wore in his last days of life, sealed in a ziploc bag in hopes that they might still smell like him. They don't...time has robbed me of that. But, I have this box...this box full of memories and things...all that I have left in this world of my first born son!

I pulled a few of my favorite things out of the box and hung them on my tree this year. I don't know why I hadn't thought of this before...but, they are there now and they warm my heart.

When Joey died...we stayed in a hotel room and my family packed up his things so that Jake and I wouldn't have to. We came back to the apartment and all of his things were gone...but, we found his paci under the bed. It's a moment Jake and I shared that I'll never forget.

His sippy cup lid...it has his little teeth marks on it...physical proof that he did exist and it wasn't all a dream.

Happy Birthday, Jo-Bo!

Conversations in the car...

On the way to school today:

The One: You guys know that since you had a snow day yesterday, you'll probably have a makeup day.
The One Who Gets Away With Murder: Awwwwwwww...MAN!!! *he starts whimpering*
The One: What's wrong with you buddy? Why are you crying?
TOWGAWM: I don't want to have a makeup day.
The One: Sorry, that's what happens when you have a snow day.
TWOGAWM: But...I HATE lipstick!

I guess we don't have to worry about him being a drag queen!

An explanation...

As to why The One Who is Adopted hasn't gone out to pee in a day and a half!

Snow Days Suck!

The One took the kids to school this morning...I did what I normally do...groggily said goodbye, then rolled over to catch some peaceful zzz's began some quiet reflection. A few minutes later, my hibernation meditation was interrupted AGAIN! It's The One...with all 3 kids...back at the house...being loud...jumping and bouncing...and TALKING...for God's sake!

I wanted to cry...the school was closed when he got there...snow day! It's not even snowing! Snow days are great when you can bundle the kids up and send them out to build a snowman or throw snowballs...but, it's just wet and slippery out there. We're all stuck inside.

Sunday, we were wearing shorts and flip flops...it was 78 degrees here! It was beautiful...now it's 32 degrees and miserable out there. No worries though...it's forecasted to be back in the 70's before the weekend is here!

Friggin CRAZY Texas weather!!!

Conspiracy Theory

You know those emails that ramble on and on about some poor kid dying of cancer, or some photo of clouds in the form of God's hand reaching from the heavens captured on film...or the one about the McPlayPlaces, you know, the rattlesnakes in the ball pit! Those emails that either tug at your heartstrings, piss you off royally, fill you with guilt, or make you want to move into a storm shelter and withdraw from society completely!

I got one of those emails today...maybe you've gotten it already. The one about the guards of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in Washington D.C. Have you seen it? It lists the duties and qualifications of the guards. It says that they can't drink or curse for the 2 years that they serve as guard and for the rest of their lives!!! Well, that puts me out of the running fo sho!!!

Anyway...it lists all these crazy facts about something which I know nothing about. So, initially...I believe every word of it. Then I realize that it might be one of THOSE emails, so I go directly to Snopes to check it out. I search for it...it pops up immediately...and while some of the not-so-shocking facts are true...most of the ones that were surprising, were completly made up. Like, the guard can drink and curse while they are off-duty! Whew, maybe there is a chance for me, after all!! So, after reading the explanation on Snopes...I feel much better...I feel like I have investigated this thoroughly and have sniffed out the truth!

After finding the truth...I'm always a little pissed. I wasted precious time researching this bullshit story! I mean...who sits around and comes up with this crap? Is it a global game of "Telephone"...where you sit in a circle, whisper something to your neighbor, then they pass it on...by the time it makes it all the way around...it's not AT ALL what you said to begin with!

But then,...I got to thinking again! What if the poeple at Snopes are just professional bull-shitters? What if they just pull this shit straight out their asses, put it on a plate, serve it with a beautiful garnish and I waltz in and eat it up! How do I know if what I read on Snopes is true? Is there a Snopes-type website for websites like Snopes?

Maybe it's all just a conspiracy...maybe the people at Snopes make these stupid stories up, just to support their own website. That's my theory...what do you think?

CONFIDENCE...it's what's for dinner!

For me, one of the biggest struggles in being a parent...besides carrying the little beasts inside my body for 9 months, besides being at their beckon call for months feeding their insatiable appetites, besides being puked on, pooped on and peed on more times than I can count and besides trying to figure out the best way to discipline temper tantrum throwing toddlers, feisty five year olds, and know it all nine year olds...ASIDE from all that, one of the biggest struggles for me has been my confidence in my own parenting skills. Dealing with the pressures and pains of constantly wondering:

Am I doing the right thing?
Is he/she going to hate me for this when they're older?
Am I causing psychological damage to my child?
Is someone going to call CPS on me?

I can't tell you how often I have laid in bed at night recounting the events of the day and second-guessing some of the decisions I'd made regarding the children. It has been really stressful at times. I've worried about it way too much.

Until now! I don't know what has changed...whether something in me has changed, or maybe something in them has changed...but, my confidence level regarding my parenting is at a comfortable level these days. Maybe it's because they're a little older and I see that The One Who Knows Everything seems just fine despite 9 years of living under my care. If I do say so myself...they're pretty good kids.

I'm sure that in about 7 years...I'll look back at this post and think, "Oh you silly, silly woman! You think you've survived trials and tribulations with 3 youngsters? Is that what you think...you dumbass? Did you forget that those sweet little angels would one day be teenagers? You haven't seen JACK SHIT about tough decisions as a parent until you've taught your kids about puberty, periods, boys, girls, mastrubation, college, sex, drugs, rock and roll, etc.... You silly, silly, DELUSIONAL woman!!!"

This is probably just the calm before the storm. But, hey...I might as well enjoy it, right? Because I'm sure I'm about to be in for one HELLUVA ride!!!

The One with Isabella Rossellini...

I'm sure you all remember the Friends episode where Ross has the list of celebrity "freebies," he's allowed to have sex without being considered infidelity. If you don't know what I'm talking about...then, I'm sorry...but, we can't be friends anymore!

The One and I are always saying, "Oh, they're on my list"...or, "No, they're not on my list anymore." So, to prevent any confusion in the event that I am propositioned by any of the following men...Honey, this is my OFFICIAL list!

#1 Hugh...The Doctor is IN!! -- damn, that can be construed as really dirty. I didn't mean it that way, I promise...but, hey...Whatever!!!

#2 Robert, I developed a crush on you in Chances Are when I was prepubescent...my feelings haven't changed. During those rough years...I even thought your mugshots were hot!

#3 Eddie...we don't even have to do it...I just want to hear you monologue!!!

#4 Paul...you know how I know you're hot?? Cuz you are!!!

#5 Vincent...baby...you're so money and you don't even know it!

There you have it...I'm even going to have it laminated!! Who's on your list?

I love your work!!!

The One Who Gets Away With Murder is really into Santa this year. His favorite movies right now are Elf and Fred Claus...he watches them over and over again.

He's questioning the process...A LOT. It's a sign that he's growing up and needs a little more info on how/why a fat man in fur is going to break into our house while we're sleeping, eat our food, then leave us presents..BUT if and only if, Jack minds his Mommy.

He asks repeatedly, "Is Santa going to deliver our presents, or will his brother, Fred, deliver them?"...and, "Mom, we don't have a chimney...how is Santa going to get in? Do we need to leave a key out?"...and, "Why do I have to WRITE Santa a letter? What if he doesn't get it? Can't I just call him and tell him what I want." So funny...at 5 years old, my kid has already developed a mistrust for the USPS!!

Since the boy is only in Pre-K and can't write, yet. I asked him to dictate his letter to me. It went like this...

Dear Santa,

I would like a bunch of Star Wars guys...lots of them. I want a Nintendo DS. I love video games and would like some more. That's all I need.

I love your work.
Jack

"I love your work!!!" How hilarious is that??? I mean...I get it...if I wrote a letter to Chris Martin or Judd Apatow...I would definitely say..."I'm a fan, I love your work."

My boy is a Santa fan!!! Soooo damn cute!

Christmas is gonna stink for me...

Oh man...I had forgotten that I introduced my children to this song last year. I made a Christmas CD for Lily and this was one of the songs on it. Well she LOVED it. I mean...who can blame her. Farts are funny, I don't care WHO you are!!!

She prides herself on knowing every single lyric to this song. The boys don't know the lyrics...they just make fart noises in time with the music! Silly boys, no musical appreciatiion what-so-ever!!! I try to give them a taste for the finer things in life, you know, the arts...and they just don't get it!

Anyway...this song is playing again nonstop...and I can't get it outta my head!!

Enjoy...and your welcome!!

!!!HALLELUJAH!!!

I FINALLY have a header that I'm happy with. If you frequent my blog...you've noticed that I've made it over a few thousand times in the past few weeks.

I was never happy with a prim and proper, frilly, and straight-laced header. It was soooo NOT me!

So...I worked on it yesterday and this is what I came up with!!

What'd'ya think???

Sweet nothings!!

Here's something that every woman wants to hear. We all just long and dream of the day that our husbands utter these words.

The scene: He and I getting comfy and cozy in bed...snuggling up, 'spoonin', if you will. I back up against him and he tenderly wraps his arm around me and this is what the love of my life says:

The One: "What is this?"...as he squeezes a fat roll...nice, right?

Me: "Shut-up...it's not mine"...denial, that's how I deal with things!

The One: "What? Are you 'fat-sitting' or something!?!"

Isn't that beautiful! Doesn't it just make you want to melt...but, right before you melt, doesn't it make you kinda want to punch him square in the nose, knock some teeth out, give him a black eye...maybe break his jaw just a little!!

Right after he said it...he realized his mistake. He knew what he'd done...and this is what he said:

The One: "Shit!!! You're gonna blog about this aren't you?!? I'm going to have a mob of angry women after me tomorrow!"

Me: "Oh, you silly, silly boy...I wouldn't worry about a mob of angry women if I were you...I would worry about one very angry woman with whom you share your bed!"

I would probably divorce him if he wasn't speaking the truth! His brutal honesty is both a blessing and a curse. He may not tell me what I want to hear...but, he'll tell me what I need to hear. I tell people all the time..."He's an ass-hole sometimes...but he is one CHARMING ass-hole!"

And...yes, dear...I'm MOST DEFINITELY going to blog about this!!!

Lancaster, Dear Lancaster....

Ran across this video today. This "performance" by a high school band at a half-time show. Can they really call themselves a band? There were very little instrumentals in the video.

They could call themselves a dance troupe maybe...or maybe "DJ Master Mike and the Marchers"...something like that...but, calling themselves a "band"...that's a far stretch!

Oh...I almost forgot to tell you the best part of this video! This is the high school I attended...my good ole alma mater! Can you believe that? I'm a ghetto girl!!! It's making sense now, right...the gangster Christmas card...we were just getting back to our roots.

Now sing the title of this post to the tune of "O Christmas Tree"...go ahead try it....Lancaster, Dear Lancaster...nice, right!?! That's the fight song the high school I attended. Well, it used to be, anyway. You saw the video...they might have changed the tune to Snoop Dogg's "Gin and Juice" by now!
Go Tigers!!!

WWJD????

I'm not religious...AT ALL! That's a-whole-nother post and I won't get into it now...but, even though I'm not religious, I know what Christmas is SUPPOSED to be about! So, 23 days before the celebration of the anniversary of the birth of Jesus Christ, I find myself wondering...What would Jesus want for his birthday?

Would he want my family financially strapped for the 8 weeks preceding the celebration of his birth while trying to buy gifts for a bunch of people who don't need shit?? I'm talking about Grandma, Aunt Sharon, myself and my own greedy little children! None of us NEED another pair of pajamas...none of us NEED another picture frame...none of us NEED a Wii Fit. Well, I could probably argue that point, because I have packed on a few pounds and I do NEED something to get my fat ass of the couch. Okay, I digress!!

We're already living on peanut butter, Ramen noodles and stretching out a whole frier chicken for as many meals as possible...I mean, we're running out of things to cut back on people!! Are you going to be the one to tell my innocent little children that we have to cut out Mom's happy pills this month so we can buy Aunt Mildred a stupid sweater with a penguin on it?? Huh...are you??? Because they all know what Mom is like without her happy pills...and they will tell you it's not good, not good AT ALL!!! Are you going to be the one to tell my sweet husband that we have to cancel the cable this month and he will miss the Cowboys and the Mavs games for the next 30 days in order to buy some relative that we only see once or twice a year a new scarf?? I would advise against it my friend!!!

I wonder...would Jesus want my husband and I...who normally NEVER, EVER fight...screaming at each other over the holiday custody arrangements of my nieces and nephews. Custody arrangements that have ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with either of us.

Would Jesus want an innocent man to be trampled to DEATH because some pricks are in a race to buy their over-indulged little brats ANOTHER video game system for $20 less than it's MSRP??? Seriously...is that what he would want...a dead guy for his birthday...talk about a shitty gift!!! Like I said...I am far from religious...but, I'm thinking it's not what he had in mind!

Alright, I'll stop the ranting and the raving...I gotta run anyway. I gotta do a little more online shopping and make a run to the storage shed I had to rent to hide ALL the gifts I got for my children!!!!

Confessions...

!!!DISCLAIMER!!!
This post is gross. It is childish and mean and...just GROSS!



Here's a picture from my past that I ran across the other day...I have carefully concealed the identity of the perpetrator of this...this...this foul act! Look at the picture...study it...see if you can figure it out what god-awful thing my friends and I were up to. Now...while reading the rest of this post...please keep in mind that we were about 16 when this picture was taken. Okay...that really doesn't make it any better...16 is too old to be doing "crap"...no pun intended...like this. Here goes....

It was about 1993 and I had just started dating a guy who had very recently broken up with his long-time girlfriend. She was pissed...so was her mother. Her mother worked at the school...she was the drill team sponsor/study hall lady...I don't know...some kind of teacher. Anyway...these chicks were pissed and they made life hell for me and my friends. Her mother was slightly LESS mature than we were at the time...so, she was always in our business and talking about me and my friends, spreading rumors, etc....

My friends and I came up with a plan...a mean and vindictive little plan to get them back. It started out innocent enough...then...well,it evolved...or, I should say it DEvolved!! We set out to toilet paper their house and the conversation went something like this:

SOMEONE: "we should write 'EAT SHIT' on their porch"
SOMEONE ELSE: "we should put dog shit on their porch"
SOMEONE ELSE: "we should stick a fork in dog shit and write 'EAT THIS'"
SOMEONE ELSE: "we don't have any dog shit"
SOMEONE ELSE: "here's a shoebox, let's shit in it and put it on their porch"
SOMEONE ELSE: "yeah, let's shit in the shoebox, stick a fork in it and write
'EAT THIS' with shaving cream on their porch!"
SOMEONE ELSE: "okay, who needs to shit?"

So, there you have it...our plan was conceived. We drove around to a dark alley and stood guard while one of my friends very awkwardly squatted and hovered over the shoe box and successfuly dumped in it. You have to believe me when I say, THAT IS NOT ME IN THE PHOTOGRAPH!!! After her bowels were emptied into the Keds box...we wouldn't let her back in the car with her box of excrement. So, our dear, brave, bowel moving friend ran beside the car, shit filled shoe box in one hand and toilet paper roll in the other...all the way to the house we were targeting.

I know what you're thinking...besides...OH MY GOD, THESE CHICKS ARE SICK. Girls don't do crap...another pun...like this. This is something boys do...which is why I wrote this post. When my friends and I tell this story...no one believes that we really did this. We made a pact that night to deny the shit...again with the pun...out of this. When rumors started flying the next day...we held strong out of loyalty and to be honest, embarrassment...and never broke our vow of silence.

UNTIL NOW!!!!