I have recently started a new affair with Jack-in-the-Box Grilled Chicken Clubs. OMG! So good. I get them without cheese or mayo but they are simply to die for. I really was not digging chicken these first couple of months but now I am down. But I will still eat Lion's Choice everyday if I could. Maybe I could switch it up with Jack-in-the-Box one day and Lion's Choice the next.
I feel like I am going to explode out of my drawers! I have a Bella Band on today and I hate it. I have come to my 'simply impossible to be comfortable unless you are wearing yoga pants and a huge tee' stage. I did go to the bathroom earlier and only then was I able to button and clasp my pants! But it was pretty pointless because then my fat gets shoved above the waist of my pants and I then look like a backwards camel with 2 humps up front. If only I could shove it all in my bra!
My SIL and my mother told me I look pregnant. Great...All I need now is to have my MIL insist I am getting fat and then life will be officially miserable. My BIL assured me that I am 'still pretty stretched out' so he is not surprised. Thanks. As if I don't have enough image problems.
We had birthday party for Baboo this weekend and it was sucessful. Only a few nasty comments from the MIL but other than that it was nice. I just wanted to share one of her comments.
Scene: The Idiot and I are standing at the concession stand at our local bowling alley to turn in the kiddos drink orders and MIL shuffles up.
MIL:" So how much does this all cost?"
Me: " Why does it matter? You can't buy it on clearance at Costco so who cares!"
The Idiot: HAHAHA
Much later to my poor unsuspecting 'rents:
MIL: "That rattle used to be The Idiot's so I gave it to them for Beebo. But I didn't buy it at Costco."
My mother was WTFing and my polite father who can't hear, asked her to repeat because of course he didn't hear (I don't see how...she has Rush Limbaugh's deafness from her painkillers addiction and yells at everyone). So she repeated it. I then had to explain to my mother what her idiot comment was about.
I just hope to hide this pregnancy from her as long as possible because she thinks she has to rub your belly as you get bigger. Like shining a bowling ball. Honestly she is the only nutcase to do that. I have to sit there and let it happen for fear The Idiot will be upset with me for not cooperating with her wants and needs (because she is the one who will be uncomfortable for 9 months and her needs are most important). She also likes to stab your baby-incubator with her kitty-litter encrusted fingers. As if it isn't uncomfortable because it's stretched taut that she has to cause you more pain by shoving her dirty long fingernail in your gut.
I am really dreading the day we tell her anything. She was so mad at me for not finding out the gender that she will be on me again this time.
A conversation last September:
MIL: How far along are you?
TI: She is 9 months.
MIL: No she is not.
TI: How far along are you?
Me: 9 months.
MIL: No you are not.
TI and BIL: You are pregnant 10 months, Mom. 40 weeks. 40 weeks is 10 months.
MIL: I don't know where you get your information from!
TI: The doctor.
MIL: Well it must be a man because you are actually pregnant 11 months.
Me: (thinking to myself WTF???? Is she really this crazy and what have I gotten myself into!)
TI: No Mom, you are wrong.
MIL: I would think I would know since I had 3 kids. (While I am standing there) She only has one and she is probably lying about anything that has to do with him. (then to me) What are you going to name that baby?
Me: I don't know we don't even know if we are having a boy or girl.
MIL: Bullshit! You know and you just won't tell me! You are probably going to name that baby Shitpot just to embarrass me!
Me: You're right! I can't name the baby something normal because I named my first Pisspot so they have to match right?
The Idiot was so upset that he actually considered calling her and telling her Shitpot was here if she wanted to visit. I made the phone call to my FIL who relayed the information. But she informed The Idiot the other day that she doesn't remember going to the hospital to see Beebo. I was thinking of convincing The Idiot that we could just pretend like we told her and then when she comes to realize it we just tell her we told her and she forgot!
I think I will just wear parkas for the duration of the summer, sit in my closet, and avoid anything that requires visiting with the out-laws.
April 14, 2008
April 10, 2008
Finally!!!
I got The Idiot a doctor appointment against his own will and had my mother take him to make sure he goes. He hasn't seen the doctor since Beebo was born.
So the doctor has him taking the blood pressure meds that he should have been taking all this time. His blood pressure was on the high side so that's why. He needs to take care of himself because now he has 4 people counting on him! Plus his mom. She might need him to come change her 15 cat boxes.
I just can't get over the fact that he is so unbelievably stubborn.
So the doctor has him taking the blood pressure meds that he should have been taking all this time. His blood pressure was on the high side so that's why. He needs to take care of himself because now he has 4 people counting on him! Plus his mom. She might need him to come change her 15 cat boxes.
I just can't get over the fact that he is so unbelievably stubborn.
April 8, 2008
What is the world coming to?
I think Beebo has an earache. He will be asleep and all of a sudden he stiffens his body, screams and starts scratching his face. Right next to his ears. I am taking him tomorrow to find out. Poor guy. His face is worse now than it was in the previous pictures. So so sad. But he is as happy as can be.
Baboo is doing so well on his meds that it is unbelievable! We have had only one problem we have had since he started and it wasn’t even his fault.
The schools in our area have a NO FIGHTING policy. If a child picks a fight with another child and it gets physical everyone is to blame. Apparently there is a rugrat on his bus that is a constant trouble maker and has it out for Baboo. His ‘4th grade guardian’ wasn’t on the bus to block him in and he meandered back to Baboo’s seat and started hitting him. So Baboo fought back.
Now luckily the principal caught my husband on the phone at home and not me. The first thing I thought of was FIGHT OR FLIGHT.
I found this:
What is the "fight or flight response?"
This fundamental physiologic response forms the foundation of modern day stress medicine. The "fight or flight response" is our body's primitive, automatic, inborn response that prepares the body to "fight" or "flee" from perceived attack, harm or threat to our survival.
Interesting…I wonder what else it says.
What happens to us when we are under excessive stress?
When we experience excessive stress—whether from internal worry or external circumstance—a bodily reaction is triggered, called the "fight or flight" response. Originally discovered by the great Harvard physiologist Walter Cannon, this response is hard-wired into our brains and represents a genetic wisdom designed to protect us from bodily harm. This response actually corresponds to an area of our brain called the hypothalamus, which—when stimulated—initiates a sequence of nerve cell firing and chemical release that prepares our body for running or fighting.
What are the signs that our fight or flight response has been stimulated (activated)?
When our fight or flight response is activated, sequences of nerve cell firing occur and chemicals like adrenaline, noradrenalin and cortisol are released into our bloodstream. These patterns of nerve cell firing and chemical release cause our body to undergo a series of very dramatic changes. Our respiratory rate increases. Blood is shunted away from our digestive tract and directed into our muscles and limbs, which require extra energy and fuel for running and fighting. Our pupils dilate. Our awareness intensifies. Our sight sharpens. Our impulses quicken. Our perception of pain diminishes. Our immune system mobilizes with increased activation. We become prepared—physically and psychologically—for fight or flight. We scan and search our environment, "looking for the enemy."
When our fight or flight system is activated, we tend to perceive everything in our environment as a possible threat to our survival. By its very nature, the fight or flight system bypasses our rational mind—where our more well thought out beliefs exist—and moves us into "attack" mode. This state of alert causes us to perceive almost everything in our world as a possible threat to our survival. As such, we tend to see everyone and everything as a possible enemy. Like airport security during a terrorist threat, we are on the look out for every possible danger. We may overreact to the slightest comment. Our fear is exaggerated. Our thinking is distorted. We see everything through the filter of possible danger. We narrow our focus to those things that can harm us. Fear becomes the lens through which we see the world.
We can begin to see how it is almost impossible to cultivate positive attitudes and beliefs when we are stuck in survival mode. Our heart is not open. Our rational mind is disengaged. Our consciousness is focused on fear, not love. Making clear choices and recognizing the consequences of those choices is unfeasible. We are focused on short-term survival, not the long-term consequences of our beliefs and choices. When we are overwhelmed with excessive stress, our life becomes a series of short-term emergencies. We lose the ability to relax and enjoy the moment. We live from crisis to crisis, with no relief in sight. Burnout is inevitable. This burnout is what usually provides the motivation to change our lives for the better. We are propelled to step back and look at the big picture of our lives—forcing us to examine our beliefs, our values and our goals.
What is our fight or flight system designed to protect us from?
Our fight or flight response is designed to protect us from the proverbial saber tooth tigers that once lurked in the woods and fields around us, threatening our physical survival. At times when our actual physical survival is threatened, there is no greater response to have on our side. When activated, the fight or flight response causes a surge of adrenaline and other stress hormones to pump through our body. This surge is the force responsible for mothers lifting cars off their trapped children and for firemen heroically running into blazing houses to save endangered victims. The surge of adrenaline imbues us with heroism and courage at times when we are called upon to protect and defend the lives and values we cherish.
Once it has been triggered, what is the natural conclusion of our fight or flight response?
By its very design, the fight or flight response leads us to fight or to flee—both creating immense amounts of muscle movement and physical exertion. This physical activity effectively metabolizes the stress hormones released as a result of the activation of our fight or flight response. Once the fighting is over, and the threat—which triggered the response—has been eliminated, our body and mind return to a state of calm.
Now I know that it is not the principal’s fault. She didn’t make up the rule. I will give her a small break and that is hard for me because I am a realist. I don't expect children to be robots but I do expect them to follow rules within reason for their age. But is he really supposed to sit there and let the kid pound on him and wait until the inattentive bus driver realized what was going on? I guess you can deny the science of our bodies and punish involuntary reactions. It's not like he could flee!
All I know is that Baboo is lucky that she didn’t get a hold of me. I think I will let her know Thursday at his Spring Concert about how I feel. Or email her and the school superintendent the ‘fight or flight’ info. It’s ridiculous. We told Baboo that if someone attacks or hits him he has a right to fight back and he scraps every now and then but never, ever will he hit a girl. I refuse to raise children that can’t stick up for themselves or lack free-thinking. I think the kid was actually older than him too. Poor guy.
Baboo is doing so well on his meds that it is unbelievable! We have had only one problem we have had since he started and it wasn’t even his fault.
The schools in our area have a NO FIGHTING policy. If a child picks a fight with another child and it gets physical everyone is to blame. Apparently there is a rugrat on his bus that is a constant trouble maker and has it out for Baboo. His ‘4th grade guardian’ wasn’t on the bus to block him in and he meandered back to Baboo’s seat and started hitting him. So Baboo fought back.
Now luckily the principal caught my husband on the phone at home and not me. The first thing I thought of was FIGHT OR FLIGHT.
I found this:
What is the "fight or flight response?"
This fundamental physiologic response forms the foundation of modern day stress medicine. The "fight or flight response" is our body's primitive, automatic, inborn response that prepares the body to "fight" or "flee" from perceived attack, harm or threat to our survival.
Interesting…I wonder what else it says.
What happens to us when we are under excessive stress?
When we experience excessive stress—whether from internal worry or external circumstance—a bodily reaction is triggered, called the "fight or flight" response. Originally discovered by the great Harvard physiologist Walter Cannon, this response is hard-wired into our brains and represents a genetic wisdom designed to protect us from bodily harm. This response actually corresponds to an area of our brain called the hypothalamus, which—when stimulated—initiates a sequence of nerve cell firing and chemical release that prepares our body for running or fighting.
What are the signs that our fight or flight response has been stimulated (activated)?
When our fight or flight response is activated, sequences of nerve cell firing occur and chemicals like adrenaline, noradrenalin and cortisol are released into our bloodstream. These patterns of nerve cell firing and chemical release cause our body to undergo a series of very dramatic changes. Our respiratory rate increases. Blood is shunted away from our digestive tract and directed into our muscles and limbs, which require extra energy and fuel for running and fighting. Our pupils dilate. Our awareness intensifies. Our sight sharpens. Our impulses quicken. Our perception of pain diminishes. Our immune system mobilizes with increased activation. We become prepared—physically and psychologically—for fight or flight. We scan and search our environment, "looking for the enemy."
When our fight or flight system is activated, we tend to perceive everything in our environment as a possible threat to our survival. By its very nature, the fight or flight system bypasses our rational mind—where our more well thought out beliefs exist—and moves us into "attack" mode. This state of alert causes us to perceive almost everything in our world as a possible threat to our survival. As such, we tend to see everyone and everything as a possible enemy. Like airport security during a terrorist threat, we are on the look out for every possible danger. We may overreact to the slightest comment. Our fear is exaggerated. Our thinking is distorted. We see everything through the filter of possible danger. We narrow our focus to those things that can harm us. Fear becomes the lens through which we see the world.
We can begin to see how it is almost impossible to cultivate positive attitudes and beliefs when we are stuck in survival mode. Our heart is not open. Our rational mind is disengaged. Our consciousness is focused on fear, not love. Making clear choices and recognizing the consequences of those choices is unfeasible. We are focused on short-term survival, not the long-term consequences of our beliefs and choices. When we are overwhelmed with excessive stress, our life becomes a series of short-term emergencies. We lose the ability to relax and enjoy the moment. We live from crisis to crisis, with no relief in sight. Burnout is inevitable. This burnout is what usually provides the motivation to change our lives for the better. We are propelled to step back and look at the big picture of our lives—forcing us to examine our beliefs, our values and our goals.
What is our fight or flight system designed to protect us from?
Our fight or flight response is designed to protect us from the proverbial saber tooth tigers that once lurked in the woods and fields around us, threatening our physical survival. At times when our actual physical survival is threatened, there is no greater response to have on our side. When activated, the fight or flight response causes a surge of adrenaline and other stress hormones to pump through our body. This surge is the force responsible for mothers lifting cars off their trapped children and for firemen heroically running into blazing houses to save endangered victims. The surge of adrenaline imbues us with heroism and courage at times when we are called upon to protect and defend the lives and values we cherish.
Once it has been triggered, what is the natural conclusion of our fight or flight response?
By its very design, the fight or flight response leads us to fight or to flee—both creating immense amounts of muscle movement and physical exertion. This physical activity effectively metabolizes the stress hormones released as a result of the activation of our fight or flight response. Once the fighting is over, and the threat—which triggered the response—has been eliminated, our body and mind return to a state of calm.
Now I know that it is not the principal’s fault. She didn’t make up the rule. I will give her a small break and that is hard for me because I am a realist. I don't expect children to be robots but I do expect them to follow rules within reason for their age. But is he really supposed to sit there and let the kid pound on him and wait until the inattentive bus driver realized what was going on? I guess you can deny the science of our bodies and punish involuntary reactions. It's not like he could flee!
All I know is that Baboo is lucky that she didn’t get a hold of me. I think I will let her know Thursday at his Spring Concert about how I feel. Or email her and the school superintendent the ‘fight or flight’ info. It’s ridiculous. We told Baboo that if someone attacks or hits him he has a right to fight back and he scraps every now and then but never, ever will he hit a girl. I refuse to raise children that can’t stick up for themselves or lack free-thinking. I think the kid was actually older than him too. Poor guy.
April 1, 2008
Oy...
Well, Sunday night it hit me. I am pregnant AGAIN! It was so overwhelming I hid in my bathroom and cried a little (all the while Baboo beat on the door). It's pretty scary right now because I can't even keep track of my cat who has been missing since Easter and now I have another kid to take care of in 7 months.
And forget about taking care of myself! My legs are so hairy that I am scared to wear capris for fear that someone will call animal control on me and have me hauled off. Half the time I want to eat but once it's in front of me I just can't do it. I just can't eat it or I nibble. I know the baby is fine. I sit at a desk all day at work. I am not using any calories.
Do not get me wrong... I love my kids. I just feel a little overwhelmed right now. And hiding the pregnancy from the bosses, the hens at work and the out-laws makes me on edge too. My boss comes in and sits down and asks me what is going on and why I am so quiet all the time. I just shrug my shoulders. Scared to even open my mouth. As if I would blurt it out. I want to. My boss and I have known each other for about 11 years. I just don't want to say anything before I know that truly, everything is ok.
Call me crazy...
And forget about taking care of myself! My legs are so hairy that I am scared to wear capris for fear that someone will call animal control on me and have me hauled off. Half the time I want to eat but once it's in front of me I just can't do it. I just can't eat it or I nibble. I know the baby is fine. I sit at a desk all day at work. I am not using any calories.
Do not get me wrong... I love my kids. I just feel a little overwhelmed right now. And hiding the pregnancy from the bosses, the hens at work and the out-laws makes me on edge too. My boss comes in and sits down and asks me what is going on and why I am so quiet all the time. I just shrug my shoulders. Scared to even open my mouth. As if I would blurt it out. I want to. My boss and I have known each other for about 11 years. I just don't want to say anything before I know that truly, everything is ok.
Call me crazy...
March 29, 2008
March 24, 2008
The 3 Princesses
Once upon a time, in a time far, far away, there were 3 princesses who worked together at a fast food establishment. The oldest and the youngest were related. The middle princess was the silly one who is over-protective. They worked for the grumpy, male-chauvinist, pedophile Prince Dirty who liked little girls. He was always mean to one of the girls and pretty neutral to another but he wouldn’t leave the tiniest princess alone. He was always trying to get her to go to his parent’s castle, tried to get her to go swimming and would call her and leave her dirty nasty messages that would make her ears bleed (never mind the fact she was barfing because he was 10 years older then her and that was old back then). He tried to lure her with alcohol, partying and promises of rocking her world (puke!). He sported a mullet of sorts. Similar to this.
He had ears that could get him home to his emergency keys if he was ever locked out of his car or to Florida for a vacation, which ever came first. He had a big nasty mole right on his cheek that the princesses stared at whenever he talked. He also supported a full lip Hitler moustache.
The princesses didn’t know they had rights at this time and decided to let it be because they were young and no one would probably listen to them or respect them enough to listen (Law and Order SVU wasn’t running then to give them any ideas). But it became too much to bear and they got together and plotted against the evil Prince Dirty.
One night, very late, the princesses decided they were fed up with the ass-grabbing and the phone calls and the floor scrubbin’ and they went to Prince Dirty’s parent’s castle (while he was out fighting dragons in the drive-thru). See Prince Dirty gave the tiniest princess the address during one of his late night drunk calls. The princesses ran around the yard and stuck sanitary napkins covered in ketchup all over the trees in his yard (it looked like someone went white dove hunting), ketchup packets, and trash and threw toilet paper everywhere. One princess decided she would also leave a stinky present on the driveway for Prince Dirty. All the while the princesses were giggling and laughing hysterically.
The princesses went home and collapsed into a fit of giggles at what he would find.
The next day mean Prince Dirty was ranting and raving about how someone pooped on his driveway. The princesses held it together when a co-worker asked him if it was his dog. He swore it wasn’t his dog because a) his dog wouldn’t do that and b) it was people poo! He couldn’t believe that someone shit on his driveway. And he showed everyone pictures of the poo.
I hope the caca on his daddy’s driveway disrupts him to this very day or his perverted ass is in jail.
Stupid evil prince…
The princesses didn’t know they had rights at this time and decided to let it be because they were young and no one would probably listen to them or respect them enough to listen (Law and Order SVU wasn’t running then to give them any ideas). But it became too much to bear and they got together and plotted against the evil Prince Dirty.
One night, very late, the princesses decided they were fed up with the ass-grabbing and the phone calls and the floor scrubbin’ and they went to Prince Dirty’s parent’s castle (while he was out fighting dragons in the drive-thru). See Prince Dirty gave the tiniest princess the address during one of his late night drunk calls. The princesses ran around the yard and stuck sanitary napkins covered in ketchup all over the trees in his yard (it looked like someone went white dove hunting), ketchup packets, and trash and threw toilet paper everywhere. One princess decided she would also leave a stinky present on the driveway for Prince Dirty. All the while the princesses were giggling and laughing hysterically.
The princesses went home and collapsed into a fit of giggles at what he would find.
The next day mean Prince Dirty was ranting and raving about how someone pooped on his driveway. The princesses held it together when a co-worker asked him if it was his dog. He swore it wasn’t his dog because a) his dog wouldn’t do that and b) it was people poo! He couldn’t believe that someone shit on his driveway. And he showed everyone pictures of the poo.
I hope the caca on his daddy’s driveway disrupts him to this very day or his perverted ass is in jail.
Stupid evil prince…
March 21, 2008
Why didn't anyone tell me...
That Brandon Flowers from The Killers is gorgeous!!
I better calm down. The Idiot may get jealous. But probably not as insanely jealous as I get when he drools over a muscle car with a 357 with NO chick on the hood!!
It's a...
Baby!
I strong-armed (not really) my mother into going to the ultrasound and we saw the little baby. I do mean little. But there was a heartbeat and everything is fine and dandy according to the doctor. It was a touching moment. She has been there for both of my boy's births and we aren't really planning for her to be at this one. She is not offended but she will be there at a drop of a hat if I call her to come hither and yon again.
I just can’t wait to follow my mother’s footsteps and take over the position of calling kids by mixing their names up or just running them all together, or rattling all of them off until one shows up. That ought to be a hoot!
I recall a lot of “Neil and Bradley, Bradley and Neil.” I also recall “Delia, Neil and Bradley, Bradley, Neil and Delia.” Sometimes we heard “Neilia!”and "Nadley" and we weren’t sure who was needed. I am not making fun of my mother at all, because I will be doing it too. I am sure of that. I just think it’s comical that things that were funny to you as a child will come back to bite you in the ass.
Someone asked me what my nickname for the newbie will be, and for now it will be Teeny Tiny (like it Alisha?). Basically, because that is the only thing known about our latest addition now. After birth we will see what we are dealing with.
Baboo came from my mother. I don’t know where she got it from. She might comment and explain but it stuck. It is more like a term of endearment. Only used by family members.
Beebo came from a Susan Reinhardt book. It is an awesome read. I don’t want to spoil it for anyone but it will make you cry because a) it’s so funny, it’s so true and b) she does touch on some serious subjects in it.
And Tiny Teeny will just remain Teeny and Tiny until we learn some other attributes. I am just praying that we won’t have to change the nickname to Gigantor and Monstrous before their arrival.
I am sure that everyone has nicknames for their family members.
Mine was not only Princess Thundercloud. I was also anointed with Bubble-butt. (Don’t hate me because of my nickname- it is a bubble-butt)
The Idiot’s is Slug. I imagine it’s because he is so full of life and initiative.
My Siblings nicknames-Speedy B, Mr. Perfect, Mr. Baby, Marmaduke (yes the cartoon Great Dane-my personal insult to my youngest brother), G2.
I am sure you have nicknames for your little ones or family members that drive you nuts or that you love. If not just wait. It will happen. Or you could have a Neilia or a Nadley running around and not know it!
P.S. I have been known to call the in-laws the OUTLAWS.
I strong-armed (not really) my mother into going to the ultrasound and we saw the little baby. I do mean little. But there was a heartbeat and everything is fine and dandy according to the doctor. It was a touching moment. She has been there for both of my boy's births and we aren't really planning for her to be at this one. She is not offended but she will be there at a drop of a hat if I call her to come hither and yon again.
I just can’t wait to follow my mother’s footsteps and take over the position of calling kids by mixing their names up or just running them all together, or rattling all of them off until one shows up. That ought to be a hoot!
I recall a lot of “Neil and Bradley, Bradley and Neil.” I also recall “Delia, Neil and Bradley, Bradley, Neil and Delia.” Sometimes we heard “Neilia!”and "Nadley" and we weren’t sure who was needed. I am not making fun of my mother at all, because I will be doing it too. I am sure of that. I just think it’s comical that things that were funny to you as a child will come back to bite you in the ass.
Someone asked me what my nickname for the newbie will be, and for now it will be Teeny Tiny (like it Alisha?). Basically, because that is the only thing known about our latest addition now. After birth we will see what we are dealing with.
Baboo came from my mother. I don’t know where she got it from. She might comment and explain but it stuck. It is more like a term of endearment. Only used by family members.
Beebo came from a Susan Reinhardt book. It is an awesome read. I don’t want to spoil it for anyone but it will make you cry because a) it’s so funny, it’s so true and b) she does touch on some serious subjects in it.
And Tiny Teeny will just remain Teeny and Tiny until we learn some other attributes. I am just praying that we won’t have to change the nickname to Gigantor and Monstrous before their arrival.
I am sure that everyone has nicknames for their family members.
Mine was not only Princess Thundercloud. I was also anointed with Bubble-butt. (Don’t hate me because of my nickname- it is a bubble-butt)
The Idiot’s is Slug. I imagine it’s because he is so full of life and initiative.
My Siblings nicknames-Speedy B, Mr. Perfect, Mr. Baby, Marmaduke (yes the cartoon Great Dane-my personal insult to my youngest brother), G2.
I am sure you have nicknames for your little ones or family members that drive you nuts or that you love. If not just wait. It will happen. Or you could have a Neilia or a Nadley running around and not know it!
P.S. I have been known to call the in-laws the OUTLAWS.
March 18, 2008
Keep your fingers crossed for me...24 hours to go! And why I love my MAMA!
Well I have 24 hours until my next ultrasound. Hopefully we will see a baby and a heartbeat. I kind of feel pregnant but I have a cold that was generously donated to us from the in-laws so it's hard to tell right now. I am very nervous and I know I will be there by myself unless I twist my mother's arm to go with me.
I just wanted to share some of the funny things my mom says to brighten my day. Yes you, Mama! I am being nice.
When I told her that we are expecting again, she covered her face with her hands and started chuckling, then she said, "Just because I gave you a mini-van doesn't mean you have to fill it in 2 years!" and "The Idiot must love you a lot!"
She also called me the other day right after I lay down and opened a book, so I didn't run to the phone and my message was, "God, can't you two stop having sex long enough to even answer the phone!?!"
Email Message from Mama on Valentine's day:
Now that you're married you have obviously noticed that we fems must rely upon one another for Valentine's Day greetings. When you gave me the card last night, I knew that, sadly, this reality has now touched you, too.
My Reply:
Oh dear,
Mama didn’t raise a fool! I wouldn’t expect any man to be romantic (you know the kind in the movies, not that crap they pull to get you in the sack) without a little bit (or a lot) of guilt. Quite frankly, if he was I would worry that he was a closet homosexual. Thus, I used my witchy ways to make The Idiot get me something (a neck massager-he just doesn’t want to massage my neck now either).
Maybe we should lobby to have a personal chef, housekeeper, book-keeper, nurse, shopper, sex-hole and child bearer day (I think they call this mother’s day now but for some reason it isn’t gratifying). Somehow we will have to tie in drinking, sports events, and sex to make it all the rage to get the admiration we justly deserve. Maybe in my case we throw in a car or 2 as an attention grabber and it could work. I mean they have Secretary’s Day and Grandparent’s Day. Shouldn’t they have a National Slave of Matrimony Day? It could be a little bit better than macaroni glued in the shape of a heart to construction paper. The husbands could give us money to shop for ourselves. I know it is unheard of, but just think, we could go shopping for a nice fitting brassiere instead of their tube socks or diapers for kids! Or they could send us on vacation to somewhere fun. You know some place we want to go. A girl can dream. Maybe we could write a letter to Hallmark, American Greetings and other card companies to get the ball rolling. They would die for another day to sell greeting cards! They could do the lobbying for us.
She also gets a kick out of this.
Maybe this is why I love her and our weekly lunches so. She makes me laugh and keeps me grounded (and she gives us money when we need it!).
I just wanted to share some of the funny things my mom says to brighten my day. Yes you, Mama! I am being nice.
When I told her that we are expecting again, she covered her face with her hands and started chuckling, then she said, "Just because I gave you a mini-van doesn't mean you have to fill it in 2 years!" and "The Idiot must love you a lot!"
She also called me the other day right after I lay down and opened a book, so I didn't run to the phone and my message was, "God, can't you two stop having sex long enough to even answer the phone!?!"
Email Message from Mama on Valentine's day:
Now that you're married you have obviously noticed that we fems must rely upon one another for Valentine's Day greetings. When you gave me the card last night, I knew that, sadly, this reality has now touched you, too.
My Reply:
Oh dear,
Mama didn’t raise a fool! I wouldn’t expect any man to be romantic (you know the kind in the movies, not that crap they pull to get you in the sack) without a little bit (or a lot) of guilt. Quite frankly, if he was I would worry that he was a closet homosexual. Thus, I used my witchy ways to make The Idiot get me something (a neck massager-he just doesn’t want to massage my neck now either).
Maybe we should lobby to have a personal chef, housekeeper, book-keeper, nurse, shopper, sex-hole and child bearer day (I think they call this mother’s day now but for some reason it isn’t gratifying). Somehow we will have to tie in drinking, sports events, and sex to make it all the rage to get the admiration we justly deserve. Maybe in my case we throw in a car or 2 as an attention grabber and it could work. I mean they have Secretary’s Day and Grandparent’s Day. Shouldn’t they have a National Slave of Matrimony Day? It could be a little bit better than macaroni glued in the shape of a heart to construction paper. The husbands could give us money to shop for ourselves. I know it is unheard of, but just think, we could go shopping for a nice fitting brassiere instead of their tube socks or diapers for kids! Or they could send us on vacation to somewhere fun. You know some place we want to go. A girl can dream. Maybe we could write a letter to Hallmark, American Greetings and other card companies to get the ball rolling. They would die for another day to sell greeting cards! They could do the lobbying for us.
She also gets a kick out of this.
Maybe this is why I love her and our weekly lunches so. She makes me laugh and keeps me grounded (and she gives us money when we need it!).
March 17, 2008
Are you kidding me???
Apparently the people who had our number before us owe a lot of bills and we get phone calls NONSTOP. It is to the point where The Idiot wants to turn off the ringer to try to get some sleep since he works nights. They start at 8am and keep calling until 9pm. I want to hunt them down and give these callers their new number.
I have had people ask me to give them a message, and if I know where they are. It's a freaking phone number! How do I know where they live now? I have told these assholes to take us off their list and check their fucking credit report like they do us. That's how they keep finding me.
Sorry just a rant of a pregnant woman. Who goes to bed at 7:30 or 8 and passes out as her head hits the pillow. Don't want to be waken up an hour later to be asked about Amanda and Anthony Hong and their whereabouts.
Oh yeah and do men eat rotting dead carcasses covered in curry for lunch and crap it out here at work. I know my stomach flip-flopped and somersaulted on my way out of the door all the way outside because I breathed in through my nose as I walked past the men's room. HUGE MISTAKE! I ran outside for air. Thought I was going to die!
I have had people ask me to give them a message, and if I know where they are. It's a freaking phone number! How do I know where they live now? I have told these assholes to take us off their list and check their fucking credit report like they do us. That's how they keep finding me.
Sorry just a rant of a pregnant woman. Who goes to bed at 7:30 or 8 and passes out as her head hits the pillow. Don't want to be waken up an hour later to be asked about Amanda and Anthony Hong and their whereabouts.
Oh yeah and do men eat rotting dead carcasses covered in curry for lunch and crap it out here at work. I know my stomach flip-flopped and somersaulted on my way out of the door all the way outside because I breathed in through my nose as I walked past the men's room. HUGE MISTAKE! I ran outside for air. Thought I was going to die!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
