Ponch…

And you can’t haaaave none!

“They don’t hear their mother calling them but they hear that motherfucking ice cream truck from ten blocks away!” – Eddie Murphy

 

First ya take ya laces…

A few of you guys asked for the link to the video we watched.  Here it is…

This video was moreso, a trip down memory lane, than effective shoe-tying instruction.  Not to mention, a tad creepy.  The little girl looks like she’s being held at gunpoint, to film this bit!!  Or possibly drugged.  Maybe a little bit of both!

After the video, we noticed that Jack was having trouble with the hand switching part of tying your laces.  Gotta give it to him, it IS a little tricky.  So, Jake came up with a way to teach Jack, that got us around the hand switching.  It was brilliant…Jack picked it up, right away! 

So, tonight, I’m gonna make a new video, of Jack tying his shoes, maybe that will help some of your little guys out!  And ultimately, help you out!  So you’re no longer the lazy mom, like me, sending her kid to 1st grade in velcro, because, it just SUCH a pain in the ass to teach kids to tie their laces!! 

Rest assured that there will be no muppets in our video…no children will be forced to participate, against their will…wait.  I can’t promise that…nevermind.  I can promise that I won’t be singing atrociously.  Which means, I won’t be singing, period, because when I do sing, it’s atrocious! 

A made man…

has to be able to tie his own shoes!

 

All of my other kids were taught before they started kindergarten.  It was a house rule.  You had to learn to tie your own shoes, before you started school. 

It’s totally true that the baby of the family is spoiled, coddled, and has his own set of rules.  Because only after my friend’s not yet five year old daughter was doted on by her mother, on facebook, for tying her own shoes, did I realize that I’d forgotten to teach Jack how to tie his! 

So, we searched youtube, found a video, and all sat and watched (because without cable, youtube videos, with muppets, tying shoes, is seriously freaking entertaining), as Jack soaked in a little knowledge, that was long overdue. 

We all rooted him on, and erupted into applause, when after just a few minutes, and a few tweaks to the muppet’s technique, he was a shoe tier. 

It’s about damn time!!

Men...

If there is a god, and I get to stand before him on judgment day (you know, before he casts me into hell for all eternity), I've got a question for him.

Why did he give men the mega metabolisms, since it's us women who gestate the children. We stretch out, puff up, get beat up from the inside out, and literally sucked dry when nursing our young. Why didn't he give us cool metabolisms to go with that? Just to make it easier to shed the extra lbs?

Intelligent design, my ass!!

We've been eating healthier, and started P90X. I look exactly the same as I did about ten days ago, when we started. Jake, on the other hand, is already slimming down. Like, a lot. His spare tire is nearly flat, his face is significantly thinner, and he's tightened his belt, by a notch!

Nice work, honey! I'm super proud of you, but, it kinda sucks having a workout partner with the metabolism of a 16 year old!

I can't help but feel like I'm at a bit of a disadvantage. You know, because of all the people that have lived in my abdomen, and all the ravenous young that I have fed with my breasticles. My weight loss is always a bit disappointing, to me. I have these visions of a tone, firm-ish body, where my thighs don't rub together, my arm fat doesn't flap, and the only muffin top to be seen, is blueberry flavored, and delicious!!

I have come to the realization that I don't firm up.

No.

I sag. I droop. I deflate.

Yup...the only way I can firm up, is to go under the knife. A little nip and tuck! Maybe my first gig, when I become a nurse, should be for a plastic surgeon's office. You know...for an employee discount!

A conversation…

Jake:  “Hey man, Nikki and I aren’t gonna make it tonight.  The Icelandic volcano has effed up our concert plans, and Avery has a ball game, so, we’re just gonna stay home.” 

Our Irish/Lebanese-American friend:  “Dude…did you just pull the ‘volcano’ card, to ditch me?” 

Jake:  “Yeah…I think I just did.” 

I’m pretty sure that card can only be used…like once, in a life time.  I’ll have to read the fine print. 

Not cool…

Bands from Scotland are cool.

Especially this one…

Volcanoes, blowing ash up into the sky, between here and Scotland, impeding air travel for said cool band?  Not cool!

We’ve been wanting to see this band for about a year now.  We were in Austin at ACL, when they were in Dallas, last fall.  In March, at SXSW, we were close.  We were at a different show, and couldn’t get across town in time to see them at another venue. 

We were stoked that they were booked here in Dallas,  and my friend hooked us up with tickets.  Alas, that damn Icelandic volcano erupted, and the band can’t get here in time for tonight’s show.

Soooo NOT cool!

Post it Note Tuesday...

Look who’s back…

Creepy, Porn-stache guy…

This is who I picture, when I look at my husband…

Hot, right?

I don’t think so, either!

Actions speak louder than words, and the return of the creepy ‘stache, screams…

“I HATE SEX!  I GREW THIS ‘STACHE, TO REPULSE MY WIFE, SO THAT SHE WILL NO LONGER ALLOW ME NEAR HER!”

Well, that’s what I hear it screaming.

I bet, to Ginger Lynn, it screams, “BOW-CHICKA-WOW-WOW!”

Why I don’t buy school pictures…

1.  I never remember when picture day is, despite those cute little stickers that they send home as a reminder, and inevitably, my kids end up wearing a “2006 Donnie Worthington Pedal Car” t-shirt on the day that pictures are taken!

*I don’t know who Donnie Worthington is, or, where this t-shirt came from, and as far as I can remember, my kids have never seen a pedal car race!  We lose socks in our house, and gain random t-shirts…that we end up wearing on picture day!*

2.  What kind of background is that, exactly?  Lasers would’ve been waaaaay cooler!

3.  Don’t they usually issue a comb, or something, for the kids, for a quick run through of the hair??  I should complain!  My kid DEFINITELY did not get a free comb, to primp before the pics! 

*Wait…maybe he DID get a free comb, and this is the “after” shot!  Damn…I can’t imagine what he looked like BEFORE he combed his hair!*

Something I'll never understand...

On religion. And prayer.

I'm just gonna go ahead and go here, because I kind of need to vent, a little.

I'll apologize in advance, to whomever I may offend, and to my mother, for publicly professing my disbelief in her deity, of choice. I know she is ridiculously ashamed that she has raised a heathen child, bound for hell.

I was talking to a mom of one of Lily's friends yesterday, at school. She said that she'd heard I was going to nursing school, and we were chit chatting about it. We got on the subject of blood and guts, and mortality, and the reason I wanted to become a nurse, and I mentioned my first born. I did it as casually, and as briefly as I could, in order to lessen the impact of the unavoidable awkwardness.

My efforts, per usual, were futile.

I could see the shock and awe on her face, and she followed suit with the, "I'm so sorry's," "I can't imagine's," and the, "It must've been so hard's," that are the centerpiece of almost all of the conversations that I have about my son.

The talk of hospitals reminded her of the time when her daughter almost got the tip of her finger cut off in a freak accident. Miraculously, and leaving the doctors dumbfounded, her finger was sewn back together, and was 100% fine. No damage, whatsoever. I marveled at the "miracle," that she described, and just as she started to say, "Yes, it was amazing, we were so lucky," she stopped herself, and said...

"No...I'll tell you what saved her finger. We started praying. It was those prayers we said, and that alone, that saved her finger."

There was a moment of awkwardness, where a good, fellow Christian, would've said, "Oh, YES! Amen! AmenAmenAmen, Sister. Praise be to God and Hallelujah!" I'm not. So...I didn't.

Instead, I wondered if she could see the shock and awe on my face.

I wondered if she realized the low blow, she'd just delivered.

I had just told this woman, that my boy had a double organ transplant, and died. She proceeded to tell me, that her daughter almost lost the tip of her finger (I know, I know, the tip is the best part!), but, because of all that praying she did...the tip was fine!

If I were a Christian, what does that say about my boy? Actually, I did consider myself one at the time of his death.

That we didn't pray hard enough? That not enough people had prayed? That SHE hadn't prayed? What exactly...does that mean? What does that insinuate?

I do not understand Christians armed with good intentions, saying things like, "It was God's will." It was God's will that my baby died? He willed an innocent child to death? For what? So that someone else could learn something? That's pretty shitty!!

Or, "We are so blessed. God chose to heal our child." Really? Well, he's an ass, then, because that means he chose NOT to heal mine. If we're all God's children, then, in regard to the healing of my boy, I must be the red-headed step child!!

I don't understand that, about Christianity, and don't know if I ever will.

How does one reconcile that in their heads? How does this Christian woman, tell the mother of a dead baby, that because she and her friends prayed...her daughter's FINGER-FUCKING-TIP, is fine?!?

I imagine it's something, like this..."Oh...I'm sure picking out that tiny little casket for your kid sucked, but, look here at the tip of my daughter's finger! Look how Jesus, and Jesus alone, has given her 10 fingernails to paint, instead of an unsightly nine!! I shudder at the thought of only nine painted nails."

*Seriously, no offense to any nine-fingered people out there. I'm sure it's rough losing one of your digits, and I don't mean to discount that! For your sake, I hope you still have "tall man!" He's my favorite!*

I'm totally being a smartass...

Having said all this...I'm not bitter, or angry, or jealous that "God" didn't save my boy. I'm really not. I've said before that I'm thankful to whomever, for that experience, and the perspective that I have.

However, it is this perspective that causes the ruffling of my feathers, over instances like this one. With all the suffering in the world (again, I'm not talking about me, here...my suffering is minuscule/non-existent compared to that, of others.), why would God answer prayers over tips of fingers? Even the prayers lifted up over my son? How does our "heavenly father" decide, which of his children to heal, and which one to allow to suffer?

If God is capable of answering all the prayers...but, doesn't. Then, why does he answer any of the prayers?

In my opinion, he doesn't. Simple as that.

Growing up…

My baby cousin is getting married. 

I took her engagement pictures this weekend.  As I was going through them, one by one, and editing them…I got a little verklempt.

As I flipped through these pics…

of my gorgeous cousin, her handsome man…and the love between them…

 

I couldn’t help, but picture this…

 

Me, holding that baby girl for the first time.  My aunt had to kick the nine year old me out of her hospital room the night my cousin and her twin sister were born, because visiting hours were over, but, I wouldn’t put her down! 

*Not a word about the mullet!!!  This is a sentimental post about my baby cousin…NOT about my rad…”way radder than Billy Ray, any day” hair!!*

This baby girl (on the right)…

who, in my mind, should still be toddling around, with her paci and her “Puff."  In no way, should she be a grown ass woman…about to get married!

Alas…she is, which translates to…I’M OLD!

Six Word Saturday…

“Most important meal of the day!” 

I rant, on Swear Word Wednesday!

It’s Swear Word Wednesday!!  I should totally start a meme, or something. 

My favorite day of the week!

But,  I’m dieting, so I’m muh-fuckin’ hungry!!

I’ve given up Dr.Pepper.

I’ve given up my happy pills.

I’ve given up the tele.

Now, I’m giving up delicious food???  WTF??!!??

And instead, for breakfast, I had some shitty shake that tasted like snot!!  It was the damn worst thing I’ve ever put in my damn mouth!

Really?  Without all those things…what is there to live for? 

Seriously? 

The joy and happiness that my kids bring into my life? 

They’re damn assholes most of the time, if I’m being honest! 

Jake? 

*this is where I whine.*

He just got the P90X , and he’s gonna make me do it with him!! 

Not IT, it…P90X, it.  Although, at this juncture, I would happily do IT for a Dr. Pepper and a burrito! 

Which makes me, pretty much…a whore.  A burrito-ho!

I can live with that…

Anyway…swear at me!  Even if all you can muster is calling me a “cotton-headed-ninny-muggins.”  I can take it! 

It’s Swear Word Wednesday!

It’s what we do!

Swagger Wagon…

Hilarious commercial, a friend of mine linked, on my Facebook page.  

Jamal : Toyota encapsulates the Bullocks in 30 seconds:

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Nikki : ROFL!! quit hatin' on our swagger!

21 minutes ago ·

Purge…

I’m in the mood to purge. 

My house and all it’s shit is suffocating me.  It’s driving me nuts.  I feel like I can’t move in here, I feel stagnant with all this shit around me. 

I don’t consider myself a pack rat.  Not at all.  Jake most certainly isn’t.  Maybe compared to him, I am. 

Now, my mother, on the other hand, most definitely IS a pack rat.  A lot of the shit that is suffocating me in my house, is the shit that she didn’t want in her house, but, didn’t have the balls to throw out herself. 

My house is a halfway house for my mom’s shit. 

Every time she visits, she brings a box of stuff.  She says, “I brought this…thought you might be able to use it.” 

Maybe it’s a surge protector from 1987, that is probably an actual danger to whatever you plug into it.  Maybe it’s a little knick knack, like these…

Jack ate the petals off of this silk plant years ago, that sits in a little tin with Asians on it.  This Asian people tin, sits atop a broken alligator skinned, treasure box, that my kids used to hide matchbox cars, crayons, and candy wrappers in. 

Actually, they are dust collecting apparatuses, that never get dusted!

Then, I have shit like this that suffocates me….

A cross and a Christian book, from my days when I thought I had to be a Christian.  From the days when there were appearances to be kept up.  Gone are those days…I yam what I yam, these days!

Shit like this…

A candle-less candle holder.  I got this candle holder as a gift…about six years ago.  It’s never held a candle, but, has always had a place on my dresser.  I’ve denied this holder it’s purpose in life, for six long years…and I will deny it, no longer.  That’s cruel. 

I’m purging.  Getting rid of this stuff so I can breathe. 

I’ll probably keep the kids, and Jake. 

Well…maybe!

What’s in YOUR eggs…

Just what does the Easter Bunny bring a grown-up who has everything? 

What DOES he fill those tiny, plastic eggs with?

You can’t go wrong with quaaludes…

At least…that’s what I always say!

Welcome to the gun show…

My boy kicked major ass tonight, in his first game on the mound!!  Major, major ass.  Every out we made, was a strike out!  Every single one! 

I’m so proud of him. 

More importantly, he’s really proud of himself.  So proud of himself, in fact, that he didn’t even care that his team lost.  He was just completely happy with his performance. 

And for this kid…that is a big deal.  He does not lose gracefully.  Not one bit!  I have seen him throw some gnarly fits at the end of lost ball games. 

Not tonight.  Tonight, he played like a man! 

Raddest song there evah was…

Emily posted this song, and I haven’t stopped laughing all day!!

Oh man…

Just a few things…

“He taught me how to turn my cheek…when people laugh at me.”

Ummm…it’s a damn good thing, because I bet this guy gets laughed at a lot!  I’ve been laughing at him all day!

“He taught me how to praise my God…and still play rock and roll.”

Is this rock and roll?

“But Jesus came and found me…and he touched me down inside.  He is like a mountie…he always gets his man.”

Dude…is this guy implying that Jesus is gay?

“And he’ll zap you any way he can….ZAAAAP”

Like…with a death ray?  I’m scared!

Man…Jesus has got to be more careful with how he picks his friends!!

Emily…I cannot thank you enough!!!  This is a riot!!