Lost and found…

Our hotel room in Mexico had scales in the bathroom. 

WTF?!?

Bullshit, dude! 

Who the hell weighs themselves, while they’re on vacation?

I’ll tell ya who does?  Jake does.

Late into the first day, Jake said, “Hey babe, hop on the scale and see how much you weigh.  I weighed myself.  Let’s see if you really gain weight while you’re on vacation.”

I was all…”FUCK THAT!  I don’t need that shit right now…I’m on vacation.  It takes every ounce of confidence I can muster to get my fat ass in a bathing suit and parade these thighs down the beachfront, there is no freaking way I’m getting on a scale.  Unless, you’re cool with sitting right here listening to me bitch and moan because I’m too fat to get in the suit.  You cool with that?”

“Just do it,” he said.

“Fine!”

Don’t even ask me what I weighed…I’m not telling.  It was a three digit number, and that’s all you need to know.

So, we ate drank, and were merry, and I all but forgot about those god forsaken scales for the rest of our trip. 

The last day, before checkout, I was reminded by them, while weighing our bags, to make sure they were under the 50 pound mark.

The bags were…me, notsomuch!

Jake said, “Oh yeah!  Let’s weigh to see if we gained.  I’ll go first.”

“Dude…you’re ridiculous.  Do you think this is fun?”

“Oh look…I lost three pounds while we were here,” Jake reported. 

“REALLY?!  Let me see, you metabolic freak!  I hate you!”

“Quit hatin’,” Jake tried to make me feel better, “you probably lost, too.  It was probably all the hiking we did that day at XPLOR.  Get on.”

“Yeah…maybe,” I replied, as I hesitantly stepped on the scales.

The scales settled on a number…a number FOUR POUNDS HIGHER than the number it settled on, my first day in the room.

Jake erupted, “BWAHAHAHAHAHA…I lost three pounds, and you found ALL  of it!!!   AND…a pound of someone else’s!!!!  BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

“Are you done?” I glared.  “What a stupid effing idea that was!!”

As I recount this story….there is no wonder where my libido has gone, for, I left it on the scales at the hotel, whilst being laughed at by my husband!!

Vanita and Dan...

We were at the hotel bar, in Mexico one night, and this adorable lesbian couple walked up, and sat down next to us. Jake was smitten. So was I.

How do I know they were gay? One of them had hair as short as Jake's, was wearing a baggy polo, and her breasts were bound, or she was wearing a very tight fitting sports bra. She could also, probably very easily, beat the shit out of Jake. Not that there's anything wrong with that...

Soon after they bellied up next to us, an older couple walked up, and I saw the lady, who was in her late 60's, eyeing the lesbian couple. I immediately thought to myself, "Oh boy...there is no way this old broad is gonna be able to stand how gay these chicks are, and there is NO WAY IN HELL, she will ever sit down next to them."

I thought wrong.

Vanita, I would soon learn her name to be, pulled up a chair and sat down right next to the pair, who we cleverly called "Corey Haimy," because one of their names was Corey, the other, Amy.

Anyway, Vanita and her husband Dan, just start chatting them up. Us, too. Oddly enough, we found out we were all from the Dallas area. It's a smallish world, I tell ya!

Vanita was sharing stories about her favorite cocktails, her husband's new knee, her two new hips, her grandchildren, and what makes their marriage strong. We all laughed and joked, and took SoCo shots together.

I acquired such a respect for Vanita and Dan. I thought it was uber cool that they were hanging out with lesbians and young people, like it was nothing.

Something about me, that some people may know, is that I sometimes stick my foot in my mouth, and I sometimes say inappropriate shit, at inappropriate times.

This was one of them.

We were all enjoying the conversation, and I started rambling about a gross hotel story we had about pubes in our bed, that weren't ours, after which, there was a bit of an awkward silence. I realized that pubes was kind of a gross conversation point, with strangers, and old people, and I made matters worse by trying to avert the awkwardarity. I started stumbling, and rambling further about how we had no clue how the pubes had gotten there, and that we were certain they weren't ours. All the while I'm bumbling, I'm trying to figure out how to stop the freight train that my mouth can sometimes be. Suddenly, I hear, "The cleaning lady must've been giving some dude a blow job in our bed, while she was on the clock," come out of my mouth. Which means, I had basically just talked about pubes and blow jobs, in front of my grandmother!!

I felt like a douche...

It really wasn't that big of a deal to anyone...they gave a little polite chuckle, and the conversation rolled on, quite smoothly actually, considering the way I'd mucked it for a moment. But, nah...it turned out, that much like Corey Haimy's sexual orientation wasn't a big deal to Vanita and Dan, neither was my foul and inappropriate mouth. I appreciated them even more for that.

Vanita introduced me to the Dirty Monkey's that I drank for three days straight, and she and her new-kneed husband, closed down the hotel bar every single night we were there.

I wanna be just like them when Jake and I grow up...

A poem…

It’s been a while.
The days are darker without you.
Your touch. Your smile.
I don’t know what to do.

I call out for you in the night.
He is calling, too.
You’re no where in sight.
I don’t know what to do.

We were close.
Our friendship was true.
I dug you the most.
I don’t know what to do.

Come back to me.
I’m lost without you.
Can’t you hear my plea?
I don’t know what to do.

This one’s titled…Ode to my Libido, alternately titled: “My husband’s probably with a whore right now, and I can’t say that I really blame him.” 

A proud in me…

Title from here.

Before we left for Mexico, my aunt and I went on a little road trip to see my brother’s Change of Command ceremony at the Naval Air Station, where he’s been running a school. 

We loaded up, rented a car, and I gave my aunt the fair warning, that when travelling with a Bullock, whatever can go wrong, usually, in some shape or fashion, WILL GO WRONG.

Five minutes after this warning was issued, we were being detained by the law, for excessive speed.  THREE MILES FROM MY HOME!!!  I guess he felt sorry for us when we told him we still had to travel all the way across the mighty Mississip’ and he let me go with a warning.

We made it there, and got to spend a little time with my brother, of whom, I’m extremely proud.  Not because he’s a Commander in the Navy and has had an amazing career in the service.  Not because, at the ripe old age of 39, he served time in Afghanistan, training the Afghan Army, away from his family for 16 months.  Not because he’s one of the two smartest men I know (the other one, I married…and for those of you who grew up with Jake, and didn’t know he’s smart…he is.  He’s an evil genius!!).  And not because he’s simply my older brother and I always have and always will think he’s the shiz-nit. 

While all of those are reason enough to be proud of my brother, I am most proud for his strength and resiliency.  His daughter suffers (and really, his entire family suffers from her disorder) from a seizure disorder, that has caused brain damage and behavior issues.  They have been pushed to the brink with this child…and I mean the brink of every aspect of a person.  And the truth is…I don’t even know the half of it. 

Yet, here they are…all standing, all smiling, and together…and as happy as they’ve ever been. 

 
Having said all that…he’s still the scumbag who threw a snowball at a car once, and pinned it on me!!

Killing time…

Our flight on the way to Mexico was late. 

Not just a little late. 

FOUR HOURS LATE!

We walked.  We talked.  We bitched.  We moaned.  We ate.  We napped.  And we STILL had like three hours to kill before the plane arrived to whisk us away to Margaritaville. 

On one of our jaunts around the aeropuerto, we found a cool set of escalators.  I talked my husband into (read:  bribed with sexual favors) letting me take pics of him on it. 

He got into it, actually, and played the part so well, that other people began taking pics of him, too.  I don’t know if they thought he was famous, and I was papparazzi, or if they, like me, just thought it looked cool. 

Vacation, in pictures…

   

Xplor'ers...

We did an excursion today, and paid like $2350 to go zip lining. Lucky for us, that price was in pesos...so, it was only like, 1/10 as painful as that figure. But, painful for Jake, nonetheless.

The price was steep, but,it turns out...it was TOTALLY worth it.

We did death defying shit, like this...

And this...


We swam in a cold ass, underground river, and we paddled a raft, with stupid looking paddles on our hands, in an underwater cave...


And once we decided to spend another $1,000,000 in pesos for the pictures of us at the park...we had a blast posing for pictures throughout the day.






I think this was our best day in Mexico, and climbing endless towers, and flying through the trees COMPLETELY exhausted me. So much so, that I'm actually almost ready to come home. I kinda missed my rugrats today, when I thought about how much fun they would've had, had they been with us.

Don't tell anyone I said this, but, I'm kinda looking forward to being back at home with them*.

*Words I will surely eat withing 24 hours of returning home!

Hola...

We're in Mexico, and I'm totally stressing out!

I can't decide if I want a Dirty Monkey, or a Mojito...and I have NO IDEA which bar I should go to get one!

Do I swim up?

Do I put on my flip flops and walk up to the bar with the swings?

Do I wait for Sergio to bring one around????

What's a fucking girl to do??

I’m on my way…

From misery to happiness today….

uh-huh (uh-huh) uh-huh (uh-huh)…

Trading in this view…

For this view…

  
Quit hatin’!!

 

Do I look like a girl?

Do I?

How ‘bout now?

   
Suck part of being so pretty, and having a sister who will hold you down, and put pig tails on you…is that YES…you do look like a girl!

*For the record…we are still not cutting his hair…MOTHER!  Even if he DOES look like a girl!*

Karma...

The other day, I noticed a baby bird sitting on our back porch. As I stood at the sliding glass door, the momma bird began squawking, and doing fly-bys to keep me away from her baby. I watched for a while, and I could almost imagine the conversation she was having with her child...

Mom: You can do it. Just flap your wings like this...

Baby: *in a whiny voice* But, I caaaaaan't...

Mom: Can't never could...now just try!

Baby: *still whining* I caaaaaaan't. It's hard. I don't waaaaaaanna.

Mom: If you don't start flapping those wings...THIS INSTANT...I will...I will...well, you just wait until your father gets back.

I'd imagine that conversations between a mother and her disobedient child, in the animal kingdom, are not that different among species!

I noticed three other baby birds perched on our ceiling fan, high above these goings on...and a nervous daddy bird also close by. They didn't have a nest near our home. I would know if they had...for under a bird's nest, is a nice splattering of bird shit!

Lily and I watched for a long time, and wondered where their nest was, and how their flying lessons had landed them in our backyard. Poor Tucker was scared to take a shit himself, because his moving bowels were a perceived threat, by the bird parents, and they dive bombed him the entire time he was conducting business!

Soon, the boys came in for lunch, after playing with the boys down the street. I urged them over to the window, to watch our television-less version of live Animal Planet. We even joked around with our own narration, in our best Australian accents.

We learned a little about our porch-guests, when Jack ratted his brother out...

"Mom...there was a bird's nest at Tyler's house...and Avery got a broom...and he knocked the bird's nest down...and...like...a bunch of birds flew out of it."

Avery piped up, and tattled, too, "Yeah...well, Jack threw a rock at it."

As they continued with the "nuh-uhs," and the "did toos," I put two and two together.

Our boys knocked down a bird's nest, three doors down. The birds flew away, three doors up...onto OUR back porch.

Thanks to my little asshole angel, this, now homeless, family of birds, had perched themselves atop our ceiling fan, which happens to be above our inflatable hot tub. Which meant that their shit was falling all over our porch, and the cover to our hot tub!

I realized that I could simply turn our ceiling fan on, to deter the birds from calling our porch their new home, but, I felt a little guilty. After all, it was my kid who destroyed their home...the least I can do, is put them up for a while.

Mi porch es su porch, my feathered friends!! At least, now it is, because karma is a bitch!!

Midieval…

We got midieval on Lily’s ass, and had a torture device installed…

 
We turn a crank, twice a day…her palate expands, making room for her teeth.  Sounds painful, and torturous, and like a notsofun way to spend a summer, huh?!?

In Jesus’ name…

Some may consider this blasphemy, but, naming one of the Mii’s on our Wii, “Jesus,” has sure made for some good laughs…

The following is overheard often around our home…

“Dude…Jesus just hit a home run!”

“Dangit!!!  Jesus just knocked me off the bridge, and now I’m in last place!”

“Oh yeah…look who it is!  Jesus is my clean up hitter!  He’s awesome!”

“Dude…JESUS!!!  Get outta my way!  I’m coming through!”

And the funniest, to date…

“Maaaaaan!  Jesus and Michael Jackson just beat me in three on three basketball!”

When I grow up…

I want to be as much in love, as this couple is, after many, many years of marriage…

Operation Lower Incisor Extraction…

Jack had a baby tooth, that had seen better days.  It was old.  It was tired.  It had bitten into a few too many apples, and cheeseburgers…

 
As a family, we decided we should pull the tooth. 

Lily manned the video camera, I manned the still camera, and Jake did the dirty work.  Avery pouted because he wasn’t the center of attention…

 
I don’t know where my husband learned to pull teeth…or what kind of tortuous childhood he had, but, he kept just jamming the tooth forward and back, trying to loosen it right out of the boy’s head. 

*Did you hear Jake say, “It didn’t hurt…you’re not even bleeding.”  It’s a principle we live by in our home.  If there is no blood…it is physically IMPOSSIBLE for there to be pain…SO QUIT YOUR BITCHING!*

Jack began to squeal, and I offered to put him out of his misery, and yank the damn thing out myself…

*Even the dog was in on the action…it was truly, a family affair!*

And in a matter of minutes…perhaps even seconds…the boy had one less tooth in his head, and his father was schooled in more humane ways to extract a lower incisor!!

What if...

It's the beginning of the summer, and that means one thing...that the end of the summer is coming, and I'll be back in school soon.

My confidence is crumbling just a bit...which I'm sure is normal, and typical, and when I think about it, this is exactly what I felt when I started classes last summer.

So, I should be good, right?

But, what if...

What if I DON'T have what it takes to be a nurse.

What if I hate it.

What if I fail in "bedside manner" so horribly, that they never let me near patients again.

What if I get queasy during procedures, or cleaning out wounds.

What if I stick my foot in my mouth, and am cold and calloused when I should be warm and compassionate to a person dealing with the death of a loved one? Strike that...not what if I do that...what do I do WHEN I do those things?

What if I can't keep my shit together? Like, my literal shit. Wait, not my LITERAL, literal shit, like my feces...but, my shit. My schedule, my tests, my patients, their meds? Sometimes, I forget to brush my teeth in the morning (hence the root canal, I suppose)...how the hell can I hack this?

We start seeing patients 10 days into the Nursing Program. TEN DAYS...

What if I'm not ready?

What if, after all of this talk...I'm not ready?

I'm pretty good at putting my best foot forward, bullshitting when I don't have an answer, and giving one confidently when I do...but, will that cut it this time?

I can feel my feet getting cold, and it pisses me off more than anything!

What if I don't want a job?

There it is...there's the reason. All this bitching and moaning about, "what if I'm not good enough..." yada, yada, yada...it comes down to, What if I'm too lazy for a career?

I've gotten spoiled this year that I've taken off.

I sleep until 10 some days, 9 on most days, and only set an alarm on two, out of seven, days of the week. I don't wear a bra on some days, stay in my pajamas on most days...and very often, don't leave the house. NOT EVEN TO CHECK THE FUCKING MAIL!!!

It's crazy this life I'm leading. Why would I trade it for a career? Why would I give this up? I know, I know...there is that bit about being a nurse being a dream of mine, and all...and I'd hate to waste those freaking science classes, but, really? I got it pretty good over here.

This old SAHM gig got pretty cush when the kids were in school all the damn day!!

Alas, it is the summer. And the summer means one thing. THOSE FREAKING KIDS ARE GONNA BE HOME ALL DAY, AND THEY'RE GONNA HARSH MY MELLOW, MAN!!

I'd wager a bet, that by the end of this summer, I'll beating down the doors of the school, just for a break from the kids!!!