The "C" Word ( among others)

So much - too much - has happened over the past year or so. Much that I cannot (or rather choose not) to make too terribly public. Although there are people in my life *ahem* who would beg to differ about that last point, but I won't go into that either. Suffice to say, I have no desire to make this into another navel-gazing post about why I haven't posted. Or maybe that's exactly what I'm about to do. Who can tell?

It's funny when you have a blog that was at one time very frequently updated because then as your life gets to a point where you aren't blogging for whatever reason, you feel that you must explain why it is you've been absent. Only, you really don't want to explain, so you put off writing for even longer and it turns into a vicious cycle and suddenly, you find that you are blogging seasonally at best.** So, I'll leave it at this: We are all good. I hope that you both all had a lovely Thanksgiving, a fabulously blessed & joyful Christmas and that the New Year brings all the happiness in the world.

That should hold me till at least March, right? (Also, SugarPlum turns 15 next week. FIFTEEN. Oh. Em. Gee. Who let that happen?)


Now, I shall share a little story that sums up my life quite nicely these days. It takes place in the van yesterday after we dropped SP off at a friend's house. The boys were doing their "annoy the crap out of Mommy" thing and coming very close to making my head explode. I said something about them needing to take it down a notch or there would be unpleasant consequences. In the spirit of throwing your brother under the bus, this exchange took place:


Bug: "Bear said the "c" word today."
Me: "You know tattling is not o....WAIT, he said wha?? What "c" word did you say?"
Bear: .....
Me: "WHAT DID YOU SAY?"
Bear: (hesitantly) "um, 'crap'...."
Me: (small sigh of relief) "Well. Hm. That's not nice for kids to say. So, uh, don't say that."
Bug: "What? 'Crap'?"

And this is why I only have two kids now....

**Also? You find yourself writing ridiculous run-on sentences that will probably make you cringe once you take the time to actually LOOK at what you've written. AND THEN, you begin to wonder why you are writing in second-person since that seems awfully affected but you can't seem to find a way to stop, so you just keep typing until you decide that perhaps you should just hit "PUBLISH" already and get your butt to bed. Or not.

Obviously I need to censor myself better...but at least it wasn't the f-bomb

Bear, noticing the rather large ding in my windshield:

"Wow! That was a damn big rock!"

Me: *coughcoughcough* What did you say?

Bear: "That was a damn big rock!"

Yes, we discussed how that wasn't a word that is okay children use, blah, blah, blah....

LATER:

after telling SugarDaddy about the earlier conversation: *snicker* "Well, at least he used it correctly!"

Me: That's what I was thinking! hee hee hee

***UPDATED!*** Why didn't I have my camera? WHY? WHY? WHY?

Okay, y'all, seriously. I'm still laughing about this.

As I was driving home from our little adventure yesterday, I espied something that I have seen a zillion times, yet never really noticed. And people, it was HI-Larry-OUS!

So, as we are zipping down the highway, I glance over at the XXX Outlet <-----actual name of the place, not a euphemism or anything, I swear. The XXX Outlet is a store advertises that you can get, well, pretty much what you would expect of an establishment whose name is XXX. And at OUTLET PRICES! This is NOT what made me laugh. What made me laugh is the sign immediately next door to XXX Outlet. The sign that read: World's Best Beef Jerky!

And all I could think was, "Yeah, I'll bet."


After telling SD about this, he reminded me of the time we were driving the same route and, a few miles past the XXX Outlet, we passed the "Adult Bookstore"<---------also the real name, marketing GENIUS, right?! The sign outside the Adult Bookstore read: COME IN FOR OUR SPRING BLOW OUT!

Diet Coke came out my nose. Yes, as I've said before, I am a 12 year old boy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
UPDATE:

Okay, I was feeling all sad and depressed and then I received a comment from Belinda at Ninja Poodles which pointed me to THIS PICTURE. And now I may be laughing for the next four hours. Damn her. I really need to get some sleep.

Yeah, a list post. Because it's too hot for paragraphs.

1. The past two weeks have been truly insane around here for lots of reasons.
2. Last weekend was Bug & Bear's birthday party and it went well. NINETEEN children were in my backyard, armed with water guns, water balloons, and other weapons of mass (lawn) destruction. A good time was had by all.
3. And then we all passed out.
4. Last week was Bear & SP's last week of school. I attended the awards ceremonies for both children. Which is always a bucket of fun.
5. Though both kids DID get certificates for All 'A' Honor Roll. (patting self on back even though I had very little to do with it).
6. Bug is on a bit of a tear. And by "a bit of a tear" I mean the child has been a little shit -testing every limit that we have EVER established and falling to the ground screaming when I enforce said limits. Yesterday was the real corker though because he threw a big stinking fit during children's church and our children's minister had to come get me out of the church service. Oh, I was furious. But I did hold it together enough to not yell at him. I didn't even cuss!
7. I'm a little freaked out because Bug is no longer a "preschooler" AND SugarPlum is no longer an elementary school student. I have a child in junior high. That's just wrong.
8. I got notification of my 20 year HS reunion. THAT is seriously fucked up. I am definitely not old enough to have been out of high school for 20 years.
9. I am officially addicted to Twitter. And it is pissing me off because it has been seriously jacked up lately. That flying whale is officially my least favorite thing to see now.
10. I saw this "Cuss-o-Meter on somebody's site (can't tell you who any more). It looks at the first page of a blog and gives you the percentage of cussing yours has compared to other pages on the web. So, mine? 0% Zero. Percent. That is fucking unacceptable.
11. I finally watched last week's episode of "Top Chef" and was dismayed that my secret crush, Spike, had to pack his knives and go.
12. I am consoled only by the fact that "So You Think You Can Dance" is back. I love me some Nigel Lithgow! (And Tice DiOrio is really nice to look at, too)
13. Have twice answered the phone this weekend and impressively restrained myself from saying, "Are you fucking kidding me?" Really, you wouldn't believe how much self-control that took.
14. Finally, my favorite kid-quote of the month: "For breakfast I want a fried egg. No, wait, Mommy. I want a Mond Egg. And tomorrow, I want a Tuesd Egg." Silly boys.

That ought to bump me up on the cuss-o-meter!

Because I can't say this to my children in real life

Just shut the fuck up and stop whining already!!!!!!!!!! The television is staying OFF until all homework is done and all toys put away! When have you known me to waver on this? For crying out loud........

sorry for all of the bloggy-shouting lately. it's either here or actually at the children & I figure you all can handle it better than they can. plus you won't tell your teacher that I cussed at you. I don't need any more visits from CPS.*

*just kidding

Conversations when you're sick

"Is it 'feed a fever and starve a cold' or the other way around?"

"I'm pretty sure it's the other way around; 'feed a cold, starve a fever.'"

"What about the flu?"

"I think it's 'tell the flu to fuck off, take a bunch of drugs and go back to bed.' Got Motrin?"

IRATE (warning:profanity laden post. read at your own risk)

To the Motherfucking Asshole "gentleman" driving the pickup on I-35 Saturday:

Dear Dickhead,

What the fuck is your problem? I am nobody to lay much fault on someone for accidentally rear-ending another person while driving. But I STOPPED and accepted the consequences. What kind of asshole runs into someone and then LEAVES?? And especially when it was patently obvious that there likely was a baby in the minivan that you bashed in? Who drives off without at least making sure that everyone inside is okay?!! Fucker.

I will tell you that that was my sweet Buttercup in that van. My precious godbaby. And her big sister, my other god-daughter. And my oldest, dearest friend. You hit her van with enough force that it shattered the rear windshield and glass was found as far forward as the middle row - IN THE BABY SEAT. Bless their hearts, they were all freaked out. Thankfully, everyone was okay NO THANKS TO YOU. Moron.

I suspect that you are:

a) an illegal alien
b) uninsured
c) a felon out on parole, afraid of going back to jail
d) any combination of the above

Guy, you had better hope that I never EVER find you. Because I will tear you to pieces. I hope that you are experiencing some terrible guilt. I hope that you end up having an ulcer and chronic migraines over this. Mostly though, I hope that nothing like this ever happens to you. Because the pain, anxiety and trouble that this has caused for my dear, precious friend is something that I cannot ever wish on anyone.

Should you wish to get in touch with the victim of your unconscionable act, you can get in touch with me and I will let her know. Until then....GROW A CONSCIENCE.

Sincerely,
SugarMommy

PS To all of the other people on I-35 in Dallas Saturday who failed to stop and help a woman who CLEARLY needed help or to even give her the license plate of the asshole who hit her: You should be ashamed of yourselves. You all saw what happened and you all chose to keep flying right past her. It's almost as bad.

(There really are not enough profanities in the world, or this post about you would have been much longer)

Some days you're the doorknob, some days you're the Giant F'ing Gorilla

Last night, I was the gorilla. And this doorknob pissed. me. off.



Yesterday was crazy. An absolute clusterfuck of activities. Totally exacerbated by the fact that SD was night flying and was therefore unavailable for transporting SugarBabies about town. He's so selfish. Working and all. So, the schedule was this:

3:30 Parent/Teacher conference
4:00-6:00: SP's soccer practice
6:00-7:00: Bug's soccer practice
6:30-??? Bear's Boy Scout meeting

Allegedly.

So, I bust my ass getting back from the conference to get SP to soccer practice on time. And we made it! But? Nobody was there. Because practice actually started at 4:30. No worries. We hung out for a few minutes and some people showed up. I remembered that I hadn't grabbed Bear's Cub Scout uniform, so I ran back home to fetch it and then came back. (Remember this...this is key) We hang out at practice and by 6:00, I needed to go pee. I mean REALLY needed to. And there is no bathroom at the practice field. So, as soon as SP is dismissed from practice, we hightail it to McDonalds, so that I can potty and so that we can get some food.

If you paid any attention to that schedule up there, it required that I be in two places at once. I'm good....but not cloned yet. Bug's practice got ditched. He's four. He'll get over it.

SO. We eat our crappy fast food on our way to the scout meeting - Bear still hasn't changed clothes. We get to the church right at 6:30! Wooo hoooo!! But wait! There's no one here. Not a soul. The doors are locked. the lights are out. CRAP.

Actually, not all that disappointed. I was ready to go home and chill. So, we head to the casa and everyone unloads their crap I go to unlock the deadbolt and discover that someone has locked the doorknob. I don't have a key to the doorknob. SD is flying. Crap.

So, I try hitting the door with my shoulder like the cops on TV do. Guess what. That shit hurts. Also, it doesn't work. So, I try to jimmy the lock with a credit card. That doesn't work either. Last resort? I start whacking the holy hell out of the doorknob with a hammer until it opens. It was actually pretty cathartic. Though, poor SD got home and thought that someone had tried to break into the house.

I'm such a badass.

The consequences of teaching children the correct terminology for their body parts

The Google pervs are going to LOVE this post. *sigh*

I swear to L. Ron Hubbard that this is ALL true. Seriously. You can't make this stuff up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The discussion in the bathroom

Bug: Mommy, where does your tee-tee come out?

Me (thinking, Lord, I'm not in the mood for THIS conversation right now) ::trying to remain cool & nonchalant:: Out of my urethra, just like yours. Only girls' are tucked up more inside than boys'.

Bug (looking skeptical, but not sure how to respond): Well, then, where is your scrotum?

Me: Girls don't have scrotums. (scrota? scroti?)**

Bear: (looking absolutely horrified) Well then....where do you put your testicles??

Me: *sigh* Girls don't have testicles. We have ovaries and they are up inside of us about right here (pointing at lower abdominal area).

Bear: SugarPlum, too?

Me: Yes, all girls.

Bear & Bug ::silently exchange knowing look that says, "Clearly, WE got the better end of that deal!!"::

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The discussion in the dressing room

Bug walked in just as I was getting dressed after a shower....

Bug (with furrowed brow): Hey! I saw hair down there.

Me (once again trying to act like this is no big deal): Yeah, that happens to grown ups. They all get hair in weird places.

Bug (looking at me like I am crazy): WELL. Daddy has a penis!


aaand he stomps off

::Thank you, my little Freudlet::

**evidently it IS "scrota", because when I spell checked that is the option that was NOT highlighted. Who knew? See! I'm informative as well as humorous!

Lucky to be alive, that child

Sometimes there are days that I love and adore my children. Okay, I always love my children, but I do not always adore them. Sometimes I am amazed at how well behaved, considerate and thoughtful they can be. Then there are the other times. We have had many "what the fuck?!" moments around here lately. But Sunday night. *sigh* Sunday night....well it was the crowning "what the fuck" moment of the year thus far.

Bug had been quite the little shit all weekend. He had been pushing the limits. Seriously. Dumping the clothes out of the dresser, refusing to go potty (that's a whole other entry), defiance. But then he would be all sweet and cuddly and make me love him again. Those toddlers, they're crafty.

After Gray Gray & Gram left Sunday afternoon, he was really on a tear, though. When I called him for supper I noticed that he had little bits of styrofoam all over him. And I do mean all. over. him. WTF? I chastised him appropriately, told him that that styrofoam is NOT a toy, and we had supper. After supper, I was cleaning up the kitchen and Bear came and got me to tell me that Bug had torn up more styrofoam and , oh yeah, "I was fanning it. With my pants." WTF?

I go in the boys' bedroom to see...the blizzard. Seriously. It looked like, well, Denver in there. (sorry, Hula) Bug was naked - except for the nine pairs of underwear he was wearing. WTF???And, the pièce de résistance, he had pulled about half of the freshly folded laundry out of his drawers. Huge pile of pjs, underwear, socks and shirts. Hadn't we just gone over that two days ago? Arrrrggghhhh! I was FURIOUS. (I suppose I could say that I was pissed off, but that would be a terrible pun and so I won't subject you to that.) (heh)

I told them that they had to pick up the chunks of the styrofoam while I refolded the clothes to put back in the drawers. A moment later, Bear tells me, "Uh, Mommy? Bug tee-teed on those clothes. All over them." And yes, they were soaked. What. the. fuck?!? Was it an accident? No. As Bug explains it, the clothes "were on fire" and he was the firefighter putting it out. My hero. This is when I lost it.

WHAT, in the name of Elmo, is wrong with this child?

It was all I could do not to scream at him. (Well, yes, I will admit, I did scream a little.) (Little is a relative term, right?) I then gathered up all of the soiled clothes and took them to the laundry room to rewash them. Because that is my favorite thing EVER to do. I continued to supervise the cleaning up of the styrofoam and berate any boy who stopped to complain. That shit was everywhere, all over their room. And it's a big room. Once the big chunks were picked up, I made them sit on their beds (Bug was n*ked, since I had taken all nine pairs of underwear off in preparation for bedtime) while I vacuumed the teensy tiny static-filled bits up. That took forever, it seemed. And for a child who hates loud noises, that was the most heinous punishment I could come up with.

With the clean up complete, I got both boys ready for bed. Bug wasn't allowed to sit with us for the bedtime story but I did snuggle and rock him while I sang our bedtime songs. I'm not a monster. And they both went to sleep without any protest. I think that they could sense they had pushed me to the very edge.

Not surprisingly, this week has been better. Actually, Bug has been in underwear *dry* all week. The impression of Mommy-on-the-brink seems to have tempered the rebellion somewhat. Don't know how long that will last. For their sake and mine, I hope it will be a while.

Bwahahahahahahaha!!!!

A good friend sent me this joke and I'm still laughing. Hope it makes your weekend a better one!

A 6 year old and a 4 year old are upstairs in their bedroom."You know what? ' says the 6 year old. "I think it's about time we started cussing."

The 4 year old nods his head in approval. The 6 year old continues, "When we go downstairs for breakfast, I'm gonna say something with hell and you say something with "ass." The 4 year old agrees with enthusiasm.

When their mother walks into the kitchen and asks the 6 year old what he wants for breakfast, he replies, "Aw, hell, Mom, I guess I'll have some Cheerios."

WHACK! He flies out of his chair, tumbles across the kitchen floor, gets up, and runs upstairs crying his eyes out, with his mother in hot pursuit, slapping his rear with every step. His mom locks him in his room and shouts, "You can just stay there until I let you out!"

She then comes back downstairs, looks at the 4 year old and asks with a stern voice, "And what do YOU want for breakfast,young man?"

"I don't know," he blubbers, "but you can bet your fat ass it won't be Cheerios."