By god, there will be pictures...

I haven't been posting a lot lately.

I'm finishing up my first summer course, Microbiology, and I have been buried in my books. I need kick ass grades on my last lecture and lab test to pull off my A. It's gonna be a tight race...but, I got this!!

Plus...I'm working on a SUPER SECRET project right now. I can't tell you about it, yet, because then, I'd have to kill you. That's not cool...so, I'll just keep it under wraps, for now!

While there isn't a lot of time for words, BY GOD THERE WILL BE PICTURES!

I mentioned last week that we were given Jonas Brother's tickets by our good friends...and I'm FINALLY getting around to posting about it!!

Jake and Lily went on a date to see the boy band. Jake was a little overwhelmed by droves of high pitched squeals of pre-pubescent girls. His eyes were as big as saucers when he came home. But, he and Lily had a great time. He did me proud and took some killer pictures...

This is Jake's "I can't believe I agreed to go to a boy band concert" face...

This is two of Jake's three favorite girls, Lily and the new Cowboys Stadium...


My girl at her first concert...


I asked Lily if she screamed at the concert...she said, "NO..."


"...But, Dad did!!"


On the way home...


Which, is, ironically, EXACTLY what I look like on the way home from concerts!!!

My little girl had a blast! I don't think she'll EVER forget it!

This kinda shit melts my heart!!

Poor Farrah, he totally stole her thunder...

I usually view death as a part of life. Something that we all have to do...kinda like learning how to tie your shoes, or wipe your own ass. But, sometimes, it comes as a surprise to me.

Yesterday, it did.

I'm sure we'll view the death of MJ much like our parents viewed the death of Elvis. It's likely that for years to come people will talk and theorize about the life and death of Jacko, given the idolized enigma that he was.

He was one weird dude, but was the epitome of ICONIC. Very few rise to that level of fame, it seems.

While Jake and I were discussing the news and reading and watching about his death, the kids were curious.

Ave: "Who is that guy?"

Me: "It's Michael Jackson, son. He was AWESOME. Even people who don't like him know he's AWESOME. And he just died."

Lil: *perturbed that they were even talking about MJ on So You Think You Can Dance* "Why do they keep TALKING about this...ALRIGHT ALREADY!"

Me: "Well, he's a big deal. He's HUGE. Mom and Dad grew up listening to his music."

Jack: "He looks weird. Why does he look so weird?"

Me: "He didn't always look like that. He used to look more normal. But, that's what happens when you get rich and famous...you start to look weird."

We realized that our kids didn't know who this guy was. WHAT?? Everyone KNOWS MJ. How could we have failed to teach our kids about the greats. Kids should know about all the greatestS of all time. They will learn the new/future greats on their own. But, it's our responsibility to teach them about the old greats...the ones who have already secured their status as legendary.

So, in a dark room in front of the glow of the computer screen, we sat them down to watch one of the greatest videos of all time, Thriller, and introduce them to the King of Pop on the day of his death.

While it was a sentimental time for Jake and I, remembering our youth, his lyrics, and dance moves...it was more comical for the older kids, and terrifying for Jack.

Jack wanted to know why, if MJ was a boy, did he talk like a girl. We explained that it was soemthing that people have been trying to figure out for years, and that we may never know.

Lily wanted to know if Abraham Lincoln was one of the zombies, then threatened that if Jack didn't quit itching his poison ivy, that the zombie of MJ would come out of the screen and get him. At which point, Jack ran out of the room. I can't say that I blame him, because I saw that zombie bitch come out of the screen on The Ring, and to this day I hesitate when walking in front of a TV at night. Say what you will...I'm a big, big chicken. And so is Jack.

Avery found it ironic that we were watching a zombie MJ on the day of his death, the day he became an actual zombie in the grave. Nice, right? His compassion is warm, isn't it?

I lied and told the kids that their Dad was one of the zombie dancers. Then, they spent several minutes looking at the feet of dozens of zombies, trying to find their fathers'. All the while, to make the story a bit more credible, Jake jumped up and did the classic zombie line dance in perfect rhythm.

This death makes me feel so old. I didn't even realize MJ was 50!! Father time is a fucking ASS HOLE!!

Which reminds me...

My blog post yesterday about our middle of the night scare, reminded me of another middle of the night scare we had long, long ago.

It happened so long ago, when times were very different. During a very brief, but very fond time of our lives that my husband and I shared as a newlywed couple, sans children. A family of two.

It was a simpler time. A time when our home was always clean and quiet. A time when we came and went as we pleased. We had money in our pockets and food in our cupboards. We had time, and space, and peace...it was a beautiful time.

All that shit is gone now. ALL OF IT!! The food, the money, the clean and quiet house, time is fleeting, space is confined, and if I ever find peace again, by god, I will...I will. I don't know what I'll do because I have resigned to the fact that peace is something to wish for in The Middle East. It's not something I'll ever find with three children in the house!! Save for bedtime, of course.

What a digression...

It was about ten years ago and I was pregnant with Avery.

We were in bed and I set the alarm as I did every night. We had a keypad in our room, because I was a little paranoid and freaky back then. After losing Joey, for a while I had an irrational fear of death. I felt that if shit happened to me once, then it could happen to me again.

We had sensors on every door and window in the house and a motion detector. Our house was all of 1100 square feet. I think one sensor would've likely been sufficient for the whole house!! A little obsessive!! Each night I would activate all sensors and shut our bedroom door. It was the only way I could sleep.

Sometime in the middle of the night, the alarm goes off.

DEAR JESUS!! The only thing worse than being startled as I was the other night, is being startled out of a dead sleep!! The alarm is deafening and as we go to shut it off, we notice that it's the motion sensor that has been triggered.

HOLY HELL...something was moving in the house!!

The only thing scarier than hoodlums, murderers, and thieves, and/or psycho, bag-headed killers on the outside of the house, is them being on the INSIDE of your house!!

I probably peed a little at this point, what with the fear, and baby sitting on my bladder.

Me: "Baby, there's someone in the house...you have to go out there."

Him: "Uh-Uh."

Me: "What do you mean, 'Uh-Uh'!"

Him: "You go."

Me: "FUCK YOU...I'm not going. I'm scared. I'm a girl. Plus, I'm busy gestating your seed...YOU FUCKING GO!!!"

Him: "ALRIGHT!"

Jake starts looking around our bedroom. He's opening drawers, scouring countertops. Then he stops and moves towards the door.

Me: "What were you looking for?"

Him: "A weapon."

Me: "I don't see anything, what do you have?"

Him: "A pen."

Me: "A pin...like a PEE-EYE-INN?"

Him: "No, like a Bic. A pen."

Me: "You look for a weapon to protect your wife and your legacy...and you come up with a FUCKING PEN!!! What are you gonna do...DOODLE HIM A CARICATURE??!!"

Him: "It's all I got...SHHHHHHHHHH!"

Jake tip-toes out the door, pen in hand, ready for...something, I guess. He walks all of the five steps, past the other two bedrooms, the bathroom, the kitchen and the garage...tiny house...and finds himself in the living room. Nothing. No hoodlums, murderers, thieves, or bag-headed killers to be found.

He does find a large, empty Target sack on the couch and the ceiling fan on high. We conclude that the fan blew the sack, and triggered the alarm.

Jake didn't have to use his weapon, after all.

He's still my hero, because I know that if someone had been in the house...he'd have doodled the SHIT outta them!!

Ding-Dong, the B**** is scared...

Which ole B*****, This ole B****...

Everyone was asleep. It was about 1:30 in the morning, I was watching my third consecutive episode of my new favorite show, Crime 360. Have you seen it? It's real crimes, real investigations, real people, and it's real graphic.

I hadn't realized it, but three hours of hoodlums, murderers and thieves shooting up people and places, had left me a little on edge.

Then...

*DING-DONG, DING-DONG, DING-DONG...BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM*

My mind starts spinning...

*Oh my god...the hoodlums, murderers, and thieves have found me.*

I jump to my feet, Jake is aroused...

*I'm not talking about THAT kind of aroused!*

Jake is stumbling toward the front of the house, the dog is going nuts, and I'm yelling...

"DON'T OPEN THE DOOR...it's the hoodlums, murderers and thieves. DON'T YOU DARE OPEN THAT DOOR! "

Jake goes to peer out of the front window, while I'm doing a perimeter check on the inside of the house. Checking beds and counting heads. I meet him in the part of the house that would be called the fo-yay if we were rich...alas, we're not...so, I meet him near the front door.

Panting, eyes wide, heart racing, I whisper, "What do you see?"

Jake replies, "I don't know...looks like a man and a woman in a cop car."

Mind spinning again...

*FUCK...it's the hoodlums, murderers, and thieves...they've stolen a cop car and are trying to lure me into their trap. I'll be damned if I fall for that.*

I decide I should call 911. My rationale is that if there are cops out there, I will ask the 911 operator to radio them, and verify that they are legit, before I just blindly open my door to hoodlums, murderers, and thieves.

As I turn and head to the back of the house to get my phone, Jake asks, "What are you doing?"

"I'm calling 911...I'm not fucking around with these people. They need to explain why they are out front before I open the damn door."

Jake says, "What are you talking about?"

But, I'm in a hurry to get to the phone and don't answer him.

Again...

*DING-DONG, DING-DONG, DING-DONG...BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM*

*They're not going away...shit I'm scared.*

The phone is to my ear as I walk back through the dark house, to Jake. All of a sudden, my mind wanders to that movie, The Strangers. Now, I'm worried about hoodlums, murderers, thieves, and psycho killers with sacks on their heads. FUCK ME RUNNIN'!!

"Um, yes sir...I have three kids here and someone just started pounding on the door, and aggressively ringing the doorbell..."

The operator asks, "Aggressively?"

"Yes...um....you know like DINGDONGDINGDONGDINGDONG. My husband says that it's a man and a woman and a cop car. Listen, I have three kids here, and I'm not opening the door until I know what's going on. So, if you could radio them and ask them what they want...then, I'll open the door."

Jake is now more confused than ever and says...

"Nikki, I said GOLF CART...not COP CAR!!!"

*Oh...Ooopsy! My bad, I guess hoodlums, murderers, and thieves wouldn't have a golf cart as a getaway car...or would they???*

"Oh...I'm sorry...my husband now says it's a GOLF CART, not a cop car..."

Jake interrupts, "I NEVER SAID COP CAR."

I cover the phone..."SHHHHHHHHHHH...I'm talking to the cops."

Back to the operator, "Well, still...it's late and these people have no business beating on my door in the middle of the night."

The operator says, "We'll send someone out, ma'am," and I hang up the phone.

The cop shows up and I try to explain that we don't know anyone who has a golf cart, and that if it was someone we know, they would've called or texted an "I gotcha"...and if it's someone we don't know, then they have no business banging on our door in the wee hours of the morning.

The cop is kinda looking at me in the same way that Jake was, then turns and leaves, stating that he'll "keep an eye out."

Back inside...

Jake says, "Nikki...SERIOUSLY...who is gonna rob us or invade our home in a golf cart???"

"Well, I don't know, but I was scared...it might've been the hoodlums, murderers, and thieves..."

We go to bed, and I can't sleep. With every little noise, the dog jumps, his ears perk, he growls, and starts shaking just a little...as do I. At about 4:00am, I finally drift off to sleep.

The next morning, I find this update on our friends Facebook status...

"Me and the girl just got done ding dong ditching a friends house "Niki & Jake" then rode thru some sprinklers and beat the popo home. Not bad for a golf cart and a 12 year old driving. Gotta love Daddy/ Daughter time!"

Just as I posted a warning on his page, that he has stirred up a hornet's nest...his wife, my friend, calls and says...

"Hey my sister is giving away two Jonas Brother's tickets for tonight and I thought Lily might want them."

So...I guess we're even.

Public apology...

To my children,

I'm so sorry I sat on you and held you down and allowed the nurses to give you all those shots when you were babies. However necessary they were...it was still cruel and heartless and insensitive of me. I'm sorry.

Because, today, I was inoculated for the first time in a long time...and it hurt like a SONOFABITCH!! A big, big SONOFABITCH!! It made me tired and grouchy and mean...and it hurt! It hurt like a SONOFABITCH.

I'm so, so sorry. We still cool?

Love,
Mom

After my shots (for school), I was pissing and moaning and yelling answering "NO" to every question they asked. I think they were starting to get a little frustrated with me.

Me: *pissin' and moanin'*

Jack: *gives me a hug* "Aww...Mom, I'm sorry about you."

Me: "What? What do you mean, buddy?"

Jack: "I'm sorry about you...I'm sorry cuz you're such a grouch."

18 again...

Being a full time student is changing me. Well, it's causing a regression actually...it's like I'm fucking 18 years old again.

This is a list of the shit that college students do, that a 30-something wife and mother should NOT be doing:

Sleeping until 10am...everyday.

Having Dr.Pepper for breakfast.

Digging through the dirtly clothes hamper for clothes to wear to school.

Eating lunch out of a vending machine.

Dealing with fucking acne...likely due to the DP for breakfast and CheezeNips for lunch.

Crying because I didn't want to clean the kitchen...literally crying! WTF??

Staying up all hours of the night...studying, blogging, watching TV.

Living for Fridays...ya know, to blow off a little steam.

Drinking a staggering amount of alcohol on the weekends.

Aaaaaaand, in turn, spending part of the weekend hugging the toilet.

It's crazy...I shouldn't be doing any of these things. What the hell is going on??

And, like, what makes things worse...is that, like, it's like nobody even fucking understands me. OH EM GEE!!

Rock out with your 'hawk out...

My wonderfully awesome neighbor has taken my kids to VBS with her kiddos this week. They've had a great time, and I have gotten a little extra study time in. It's a win, win! Thanks, Jess!

She reads my blog, so it's likely that she's trying to save the souls of my children. Protecting the kids from their heathen parents, who are draggin' them along on a fast track to hell!! Good lookin' out, Jess!!

I was helping the kids get ready this morning and thought...

By god, if my kids are going to church, then they're gonna rock that mutha out!!

So, I did this...

Relax...it was crazy hair day!!

A dry spell...

I hit a new low in my marriage last night. It was awesome!!

My brain is fried from this fast track Microbiology class I'm taking. For five hours a day, I'm in the classroom and the lab absorbing as much information as possible. Then, when I get home, I hole up in my room and study some more.

The good news...I'm learning A TON, and making the grade. The bad news...my marriage, and my house, and my kids are being neglected.

I don't know how you working moms do it. I really don't. Kudos to you guys...my hat is off to ya.

Last night, I was in bed studying when Jake came to bed. He climbs in and rolls over to go to sleep. I look over at him and realize it's been a little while since we've had relations, so I say...

Me: "You asleep?"

Him: "No..."

Me: "You need anything?"

Him: "What? Uh...no..."

Me: "No, I mean...do you NEED anything?"

Him: "Oh...nah, I'm good. Keep studying."

Me: "Cool. 'Night."

New low...strictly business. Nothing to do with love, or passion, or desire...just straight up asking if he "needed anything."

I'm seriously hoping that this has EVERYTHING to do with our crazy schedule...and NOTHING to do with the fact that we've been married for almost eleven years and have possibly settled into a rut.

This ain't ya Momma's Land of the Lost

PHOTO FROM HERE
We just took the kids to see Land of Lost. We took a vote and it beat out Up by a landslide.

I watched the show every Saturday morning as a kid. I loved that damn show. After watching a couple of old reruns recently...uh, I don't really recall why I loved it. But, hey...it was the 70's...we made do with what we had.

As far as the cinematic version...it was quite entertaining. A helluva lot more entertaining that I remember the television series being. But, I have to say, they stretched that PG-13 rating preeeeeeetty fucking far!

Speaking of fuckin'...at one point in the movie, Will Ferrell's character moves in for a closeup and mouths "Fuck You" to dear sweet Chaka. My little one finds that word fascinating...and remember, no matter how foul my mouth may be, I DON'T curse in front of the kids. But, Will Ferrell does, so upon seeing this, Jack jumps up and shouts, "OOOOOOh Snap...he just said 'EFF YOU'!" Ya know...just in case the other movie-goers missed it.

Throughtout the movie, the words "asshole", "pussy", and "dick" were thrown around carelessly, a coffee mug with a nice pair of bare titties was showcased, and Danny McBride's character warned that his tube ride might get Holly "wet", then later suggested that she might want to sit on the giant vibrating crystal.

Oh, and thanks to this big screen adaptation of a beloved 70's children's show...the phrase, "tap that ass," is now a part of my offspring's repertoire.

AWESOME!! That should fly in Kindergarten!!

Vloggity, Vlog, Vlog...Vol 5...

Head over to The Fort to play along with this Vlog Carnival that Bubbles has going on. It's pretty simple. You get in front of a video camera and talk about an emotion you had this week.

On this episode of VlogEmo...

Guess who's back...back again...
Nikki's back...tell a friend...
Guess who's back, guess who's back,
Guess who's back, guess who's back...

DISCLAIMER: I HAD TO FILM THIS ON MY CELLY, YO!!

THAT'S my boy...

We were at the pool, because I was trying to appease my kids a bit since I'm spending so much time away from home these days. I didn't want to go...I had a headache and a ridiculously expensive textbook to read. But, I went anyway.

They older two can swim...and the little one is learning. He's completely capable, but, has a few kinks to work out before I would consider him a swimmer.

He's always been reckless around the water...completely fearless. He's nearly drowned...oh, half a dozen times in his life. But, it's been over a year since his last near-drowning...so, I'd say we're making progress. I still have to watch him like a hawk because he gets a little over-confident and desperately tries to keep up with big brother.

I'm watching the kid...and I see a snot-nose little brat come up and take Jack's tube and swim off. My boy doesn't let anything go without a fight...so he started swimming after the kid. This kid is little. Maybe 3.

Now, I'm a mom. Meaning that on the day that my first born was squeezed out of my uterus...I acquired the ability to forsee one minute into the future as it pertains to children.

Like, when I'm walking into the grocery store and my kid has his "school shoes" on, and a puddle is five strides ahead...I instinctively say, "You step in that puddle and you're dead, mister."

Or, if I catch my boy with his finger in his nose, and during his digital retreat, I see his eyes divert towards the treasure he has un-nosed...without thinking I say, "If you eat that booger, you're penis will turn green, capiche?"

I can see the future...most moms can.

So, I was watching this thing go down. I knew what was going to happen. Jack was going to chase down the little klepto, into the deeper water, take back his tube, and unintentionally leave the perp to drown.

It happened just as I saw it in my head, and the little thief went under the water. I could only see the very top of his dark hair above it. The kid was starting to bounce off the bottom of the pool to try to catch a breath. His attempts were futile.

I was anxiously waiting for the kids' mom to intervene. She didn't...apparently, she had plans of dethroning me as the "Shittiest Mom of the Year" and had no clue any of this was going on. About fifteen seconds passed. My attention was focused on this little one...I wasn't watching mine as close.

A little bit pissed at this mother's incompetence, I decided it was time to step in. As I got up from the lounger, I glanced back to the kid...and was surprised by what I saw....

My boy had wrapped his arms around this kid, lifted him, and was swimming...the klepto in tow. My boy swam him to shallower water. When he got to the steps Jack lifted the boy and carried him completely out of the pool.

My heart swelled...my boy had saved him.

With his tube back in his possession and the boy safely back on dry land...Jack raced back to the other side of the pool. After all, he'd missed out on a full three minutes of horseplay...he had shit to do.

As he ran past me, I hollered, "Hey! Jack...did you just save that little boy?"

Over his shoulder, without looking back, he yelled, "Yeah, Mom...he couldn't swim. I had to help him. I'm like a Lifeguard, or something!"

"Yeah, son...just then...you kinda were."

Up...

My nephew was 9 months old when he was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes.

I guess it's a good thing, in a way...he doesn't know any other way of life. He knows nothing other than checking sugars and counting carbs...planning meals and watching the clock...measuring insulin and multiple daily injections. It's routine for him...and his mom.

He's 9 now, and keeping a handle on the blood sugars of a growing boy is far from routine...for anyone. He might sneak a snack and his sugar may skyrocket. He might play a rigorous game of touch football in the yard...and his sugar may plummet. The good thing about him being a growing boy, is that he knows his body now. He knows what he needs and he lets us know. Often, he just takes care of it himself.

Except at night.

He inherited the "sleep like a goddamn hibernating bear" gene from my husbands side of the family. Jake and his sister...the boys' mom...can fall asleep mid-sentence. And sleep through a flippin' hurricane. Now, the hurricane thing is speculation, but, falling asleep mid-sentence, mid-conversation...I've witnessed that myself. Both of them!! It's incredible.

For me to fall asleep, it has to be dark, and quiet, and cold, with warm blankets, Jake must be present, with all the external doors locked, bedroom door closed, freshly emptied bladder, ear plugs in place, pillow between my legs, one behind my back, Venus must align with Jupiter, and goddamn Halley's Comet must pass the Earth's orbit. Then...and only then...will Mr. Sandman will bring my ass a dream!!

Not this kid...like his mother and his uncle, he's damn-near comatose if he stands still for just a few minutes. Not a problem for a typical kid. But, it can be a problem when that kid has Type 1 Diabetes...and has been in a WWE Smackdown with his cousins...and didn't eat much of a snack before bed. His sugar drops fast...and if we don't check it through the night...he might quite literally become comatose.

So, just now, as Venus was eclipsing Jupiter...I thought I'd check the kid before my big moment. His sugar was low...very low. The protocol is to get this comatose-like, hibernating kid...who's very near to a very scary-as-shit, real-life coma...to wake up and drink some juice. Ya know...before his brain starts shutting down his bodies' organ systems, in order to protect itself.

The juice went down, but Halley's Comet has fucking passed by...and I will now have to wait another 76 goddamn years, or something, before I'm able to sleep again.

But, he's totally worth it...

While the cat's away...

...the other cat let's the mice do whateverthehell they want!!

THIS is the shit I come home to after a long day, eyeball deep in E. coli!!!

Why I oughtta...

WOW!!

People never cease to amaze me. That's been one of the most...let's just say, enlightening aspects about being back in college. I'm learning more about people than about the courses I'm taking. Some of what I'm learning...is a little disheartening.

Good news...this semester, my professor KICKS ASS. She's the KICK ASSINGEST professor I could want, or have, or imagine. Of course, she did NOT have a hard act to follow after Cletus!!

My 20 classmates are typical...a hodge podge of people...good, bad, and ugly, all fighting for the same limited number of spots in the nursing program.

Yesterday, a certain "academically challenged" woman in the front row calls the professor over for a chat. We were on a break and most of the class was out of the room. I had my nose buried in my $233.82 textbook, but couldn't help but overhear the conversation, as she sits directly in front of me.

It went like this:

WOMAN: "OK...Ms.C...I noticed that there is only one guy in the class...Sam. Since he's the only guy in the class, I think that he should get a little bonus on his tests...say 5 points."

MS. C: "Hahahahahahaha"

WOMAN: "Actually, I'm serious...he's brave enough to sit in here with all of us women...I think he deserves something. Also, I'm the only black person in the class...so maybe I should get a 5 point bonus, as well."

*silence....a silence that I wanted to fill with murderous shrieks*

Ms.C waited. She must've been giving this woman a chance to deliver the punchline...the "ba-dum-bum" part of her speech. When it didn't come, Ms.C finally said...

"Uh...Ms.A...I hadn't even noticed. If you want 5 points on your test, you should study and earn them, like everyone else. Nice try, though!!!!!"

With that, she turned and walked away. I'm pretty sure I heard Ms.C mutter under her breath, "You fuckin' BITCH!" But, that might've been me...I'm not entirely sure.

At this point, I jump up on my desk and start doing this very awkward and unflattering..."You just got TOLD" / "Ms.C, I think I love you" dance!!

I sat back down from my imaginary "victory over ignorance" dance...reeling after what I'd just witnessed.

Words don't often escape me...but, after this...they did. My thoughts were frantically swimming, and colliding, and exploding. I had to cover my mouth with my hand to hold them in.

People NEVER cease to amaze me.

WOW!!

A conversation I wish I'd had...

Hi! My name is Nikki. We haven't met. I've seen you up here at the school a few times...class parties, field day, awards assemblies, you know...all the bullshit events that we feel obligated to come to just because we're SAHM's.

*awkward silence*

Hahahahaha! I'm kidding...kind of.

*awkward-er silence*

Anyway, I couldn't help but notice...but, it looks as if there might be a stick up your ass. I'm not completely sure, but I've met mothers like you before. Look at you! You walk in here with your high heels, pressed clothes...which is always a cooridinating outfit, nonetheless...hair done just right, earrings, necklace, and even makeup for the love of all that is sane! That's incredible. I'm lucky if I get out the door with a matching flip-flops, my hair thrown in a pony-tail, and clothes that aren't visibly dirty.

I suppose he's yours. That one...the one that looks like he has a tiny stick up his ass, too. They don't fall too far from the tree, do they? Hahahahah!!

He looks so angry...it must be hard for him to live up to your expectations. You know...keeping that fucking part in his hair just right, his shirt tucked in, keeping dirt off his sneakers, all his I's dotted and T's crossed. Bless his heart, it has to be frustrating for him.

Let me guess...that's his project over there. The Cape Cod style bungalow that in perfect scale, hue, and functionality, and looks like it might be something that a prospective architect might submit to a developer. Nice work...he did that all on his own, huh??

Oh, Lily's?? Her's is the one made out of macaroni, Fruit Loops, and juice boxes. Yeah, that one. The one with dried glue all over it, and Darth Vader on the roof. That's hers. I didn't help her one bit on hers, either.

Which one is she? She's over there...wearing the T-shirt that is a little too small, her brother's basketball shorts, and one pink sock and one purple...that's her. She dresses herself!

Oh...these are your little girls? I should've known...Crisp matching dresses, 18 pony-tails between the 2 of them, and 14 hair bows...ADORABLE!! That little one looks a little pissed off, too. She hasn't quit screaming since you guys got here. It's actually a little annoying.

Maybe you should try being a little more stern with her. I hear you talk in that sing-song-y condescending voice to your children. The voice that most people reserve for other peoples children. You know the one they use when their tongues are bleeding because they are hiding what they really want to say. You don't have to do that, you know. Watch this...

"Jack...if you eat one more Fruit Loop off of your sister's project, I'm going to take you in the hallway and rip all the hair out of your head. Got it?"

See...no big deal. You should try it. Go ahead. No? Alright.

Anyway...well, it was nice chatting with you. We should set up a 'playdate' for the kids...we could have coffee.

No...wait...I'm NOT free on Friday. Oh, Jesus!! I was TOTALLY kidding...I don't do 'playdates'. I was being sarcastic...it's my thing. But, hey...if you're free...maybe you could watch them for me while I do some stuff.

Nah...nevermind. You'll probably be busy scrapbooking, or baking for a potluck at the church, or psychologically damaging your

Winner winner, Chicken dinner...

I never win anything...ANYTHING!! I DEFINITELY don't win contests. Particularly those where the winners are chosen by random generators. Or, call-in contests on radios stations...I NEVER win those.

Until yesterday!!

I was on the way home from school and I changed the radio station and heard the last little bit of a contest...

Cheesy Radio Guy: "Call in now...Caller nine gets it."

*cut to commericial*

So, I start dialing...just thinking, what the hell...why not!! The first several times is was the "All circuits are busy" crap, then on my 5th call...it rings. The dude answers...

Radio Guy: "Who'm I talkin' to?"

Me: "Uh...me?"

RG: "Yeah, YOU...who is this?"

Me: "OMG!! OMG!!! Did I win?? Did I win?? Am I the 9th caller??"

RG: *now laughing at me* "You sure are. Do you have a name?"

Me: "You've got to be fucking kidding me..."

*OMG! Did I just say fucking? Great...I finally win and now my voice won't be heard on the radio, because I just said FUCKING!...NOTE TO SELF: Get those 'How to Clean Up Your Potty Mouth' self-help tapes I saw online!*

Me: "Oh...Sorry...um..."

*quit saying UM...FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!!!*

Me: "Nikki...My name is Nikki. OMG...I can't believe I won...I never win!!"

RG: "Well, you won today...and on June 11th, you're going to the MMA match at Dr.Pepper Park."

*Yum...did he say Dr. Pepper?*

Me: "MMA?? Dude, I don't even know what that is..."

*now I'm sounding ungrateful*

Me: "...BUT...I still want it. Because I'm so excited I won!! WOOHOO!!"

*Did I just WOOHOO?? Great! I'm such a redneck...I'm just like all those other redneck Texans who end up on the news or radio and sound like backwoods, inbred, morons...yeah...now that's ME!!*

RG: "MMA is Mixed Martial Arts...Cage Fights...UFC...you've heard of that, right?"

*Are you fucking kidding me?? I finally win something, and it's tickets to a GODDAMN CAGE FIGHT!! You mean like this:

PHOTO FROM HERE.

Me: "Oh...OK...I'll take my boy. He loves that kinda stuff."

RG: "Uh...I don't know if it's for kids...it's pretty violent. I mean, they're really fighting...I don't know if I would take a kid."

Me: "Dude...you obviously don't know me!"

The evolution of Lily...

My girl is changing right before my eyes. She is growing out of her "The One Who Doesn't Say Much" phase and moving into a "The Mature One" phase.

Her shyness started when she was just a baby. She was even shy around her Daddy. For as long as I've known her, she's been a Momma's Girl.


She's a thinker...she's always been the one to sit back quietly and figure shit out. She's patient...and I KNOW she doesn't get that from me. Her personality is the most like her Daddy's...and I am so thankful for that!!


She may not show a lot of people this side of her...but, she's fucking HILARIOUS!! She's sharp, and witty, and quick with the perfect comeback. She always gets my jokes and always laughs at just the right moment.


She's the only one I don't worry about...she's strong and it radiates from her. She's AMAZING!!

Conquering fears, one drink at a time...

For as long as I can remember, I've had a fear of drowning. I can handle swimming pools, but lakes, oceans, and rivers freak me out. I will go boating on the lake, but, in my head, I am constantly plotting my escape in case we capsize. As much as I would love to travel to Europe and Australia...I am too afraid to fly over oceans. The One really wants to go on a cruise...yeah, I DON'T THINK SO!! I'm no moron...I saw Titanic!!

I've thought long and hard, but, I don't remember a specific event that might've triggered my fear. I've even thought a little on past lives. I don't know if I really buy into that idea, but I did read a good book on it called, Only Love is Real.

I went so far as to do a craniosacral therapy session with the owner of the yoga studio I used to work for, to address headaches, jaw pain, TMJ, and my fear of water. He did some guided imagery taking me back to times where I began clenching my jaw and holding onto pain. And, more than a few times, water came up. Images of raging rivers kept popping into my head. An image of a pond that I visited frequently as a child came to mind. I envisioned myself sitting next to it, at night...the moon was reflected off the water, which was dark and ink-like. Very eerie! These images weren't necessarily memories, but, they might've been.

Anyway, this weekend, I faced my fears and went boating with some of our good friends. Now, getting my ass on a boat is one thing...but, skiing and wakeboarding and tubing...that is just ridiculous! Why in the hell would I want to be drug around the lake...white knuckling every second of the ride, until my fingers give out, or the sadist driving the boat goes fast enough, or turns hard enough to throw me off!! Sounds like a blast to me!!!

I discovered that all it takes to conquer my fear, is a little Red Bull and vodka. Okay, a little more than a little. Fine...A LOT of Red Bull and vodka is all I need to face my fears!

Would you just look at my face...can't you see the terror!!