I am looking for an escape for a few hours. The heat, my house, one child in particular. So I am perusing Fandango for a movie. And there I see it: “Resident Evil: Retribution.” THIS is the explanation for the shitstorm that is raining down on my household. I have no idea what this movie is about, but judging by the title, my mother’s prayers from my teen years have come true. I hope that she negotiated residuals.
I think that I am back. I wasn’t trying to leave for any particular reason, I simply got busy, had some big changes in my life (no, I’m not sporting a penis or anything that extreme, not that there’s anything wrong with that, although I do think it would be fun to stand and pee, but having a penis would definitely change the dynamics of my marriage in ways that I doubt my husband would appreciate) and I’ve wandered back. So now my mom can be excited because she can see what I am up to a bit more. I am sure that scares her a bit.
Whatevs. Happy day to you, sirs. I am off to my craft room to sew fabulous things, eat leftover candy from my daughter’s party, and watch cable movies. Yesterday it was “Crazy People.” Dudley Moore- love him. The movie is just so-so, but it’s worth watching just for the whole ad campaign. Honest ads. Although I loved the Jaguar ad, my personal favorite is this here Volvo one.
Because I drive a Volvo, and I am not trying to be sexy. I am trying to get kids somewhere safely so that some day they will live to see their sexy days. Because according to the head Kardashian, serving up sexy children to the public is what constitutes good parenting. While I was perusing the web for this super-duper image, I came across this ad and it made me laugh:
There are even more of these funny gems at this website: http://www.visualnews.com/2012/03/21/keeping-ads-honest-crazy-people-style/ Check them out, because they will put a smile on your face.
Happy weekend to all!
I’ve been a homeschooling mom for 7 years. Next year both of my kiddos will attend school full time. I’m not used to all the meetings and things that are expected from parents. At home I only require that you brush your teeth and wear pants. So, if you would like to weigh in on how to proceed before tonight’s meeting, please dispense your wisdom. It will be greatly appreciated.
It is a good idea to have wine before registration at your kids’ new school if:
A. you only have one glass (sorry, that hilarious/useful glass that holds a full bottle doesn’t qualify)
B. you have a mint before you go
C. you drink enough to belligerent, ensuring you won’t end up on one of the lamer committees.
Don’t even get me started on what to wear. I simply plan on wearing pants and brushing my teeth.
I’m all about unconditional love. Until I hear you blow your nose in the shower. Then I simply hope you slip on your own mucus so I can laugh evilly and say “I told you that was gross AND dangerous.”
I think some shit is going to go down with my HOA. I should probably make sure we are current on our dues…
This is the toilet paper I use:
probably ripped open by someone's teeth
I am not a brand snob. However, there are 3 brands I insist upon: Bounty paper towels, Cottonelle toilet paper, and Dr. Pepper. If you try to sneak another past me, you will be wiping your blood off the floor with sub par paper towels, and drinking Nurse Dynamite until the cows come home.
So I glanced at the packaging of the Cottonelle, as it sat on the stairs waiting for some desperate human to carry it upstairs. I saw the offer for the free toilet paper cover and it reminded me of the commercials that are currently running. I’m sure you’ve seen those ridiculous commercials with the new toilet paper covers, right? Where the wife calls the husband in to tell him that he forgot to “back it up.” That their TP is so precious that he needs to back up the back up, or something equally ridiculous? And then the dude walks off repeating the mantra, sipping his coffee.
Seriously, Cottonelle, you are killing me. Backup the backup roll?
In my mind, when the term back up plan is used in relation to toilet paper, it has never once occurred to me, dainty woman that I am, that I should be essentially hiding an extra roll of toilet paper. In a container that no one can see into. Back up plans as they are relate to toilet paper generally bring to mind Kleenex, paper towels, toilet seat covers, or anything of a fibrous nature that is within reach. In our bathrooms, we have toilet paper holders that hold 3 extra rolls that can be clearly seen into so that we don’t have to resort to extreme measures (i.e: the cardboard tube itself) in any instance.
If my life were mundane enough to nag my husband or even myself about backing up the backup roll, I would just kill myself. No, I would really probably kill myself if I worked on the marketing & advertising campaign that had to try to convince people that “backing up the backup” relates to toilet paper and not something that a politician would refer to as “not technically sex.”
There are debates and cartoons about convincing your bathroom partner to refill the toilet paper holder, and even to do it a particular way. And now Cottonelle wants us to add some nagging about refilling a holder? Seriously? And according to their commercials, the women do the nagging. Don’t we as humans have plenty to be concerned about without adding refilling a toilet paper holder that you can not even see into? This has got to be the stupidest idea ever in the history of butt-wiping fibers. Screw off, Cottonelle, if you think women are that piddly and ball-busting. This makes me mad enough to not wipe my ass with you. Almost.
I woke up my beloved this morning at 5:30am. For a soccer game, a camping trip, or because the house was on fire? Nope- way more fun than all of those combined: a neighborhood HOA garage sale! Woo hoo! I simply love garage sales and estate sales. I always have. When we lived in Dallas, I used to put Hudson in his little Baby Bjorn Borg (wasn’t that guy the cutest ever?) He was the pre pubescent crush to my current David Beckham obsession:
here's your baby, Bjorn
Sorry to veer off track. Anyway, I would but my little guy in his baby sling and go the Good Friends estate sales. If they still operate in Dallas, these are the sweetest people ever. I’ve moved to a more suburban area and I’ve found that things work a little differently out in this area. Oh yeah- and in a completely different state. However any way you cut it, there are three main principles that I find true in almost all garage sale instances:
1. Get up early. Things out here are in full swing at 7am. I can’t even believe this but it’s true.
2. Old people have all the good stuff. I don’t want a bunch of plastic crap that I can buy myself at Ikea. So if you are under 50, chances are, I am not all that interested. Unless you are clearing out your grandmother’s house. Then let’s talk.
3. Listening to older people’s stories are the best part of it all. Really and truly. Going into someone’s garage and seeing their tools all lined up under their Schlitz Malt Liquor neon sign, the comforting smell of a smoldering pipe, or seeing left over 50th anniversary napkins on a folding table- these are all indications that there are some good tales to be shared by some cute woman or even a smart ass older guy with a funny joke or two. Stop and listen. You won’t be sorry.
Laith and I grabbed some breakfast, and hit a neighborhood HOA sale that allows its residents to have garage sales once or twice a year on a designated weekend. It seems kinda stringent, but it works out really well. There is a lot of traffic and then garage salers have about 80 houses to walk around to. Win-win.
Here are some of the gems that we scored today:
highlights: a copper colander, a funky suitcase, twine, apple crate (free!) a Dremel hole poker (industry term) old scale
someday my kids will put this crap in a garage sale
I love milk glass. Love it. I’ve collected it since that bitch, Martha Stewart, drove up the price of jadeite and now I can only afford the white Fireking. Whatevs, I still love milkglass, and scored 4 pieces today. Also I got those awesome seltzer bottles and that gorgeous platter with the ubiquitous pattern.
possibly cool light fixture
My new house is lousy with can lights (blech.) So anytime I see a cool light fixture, I pick it up. These sweet people could not believe that I wanted their old apple crate that I spotted in their garage, and threw it in for free. Laith also bought some (unpictured) prints of Moulin Rouge from them for 50 cents. He apparently has fond memories of that boobie show when we were in Paris. Guys- so predictable.
Serious vinyl score- 39 total
My kids received a record player for Christmas and are looking to add to their collection. In today’s haul there are John Lennon, Tom Petty, The Pretenders, Echo & the Bunnymen, Pat Benetar, Led Zeppelin, Fleetwood Mac and more.
Today we ran into a friend that I met 6 months ago at a previous garage sale. He and his wife were checking out instruments while I scored some venetian glass lamps. We visited a bit and he mentioned that he was a guitar teacher and now this guy, is Izzy’s guitar teacher:
super nice and talented teacher, Tim
So for under $100 I had a date and fun shopping with my guy. Yeah, we may have had some sleepy eyes, and not the freshest breath, but it was darn fun. We came home by 10 and the 2 youngsters had not even woken up enough to come to blows. So next weekend, get some small bills, hot coffee and hit the garage sales with your sweetie and see what you can find. Tip: look out for the old woman in her yard, hand watering her plants and smoking a menthol – she probably has the best stuff.
I never think that mopping gets the floors all that clean, so every once in a while I hand scrub them. Artesian hand-scrubbed tile. Which is completely ridiculous. All this artesian hand-scrubbing of floors makes me edgy, I’m told. For instance, when I see someone carelessly dribbling lemonade on the floor from an overfilled glass, or tracking mud onto the floor I want to scream, “didn’t you see me on my hands and knees, scrubbing those tile floors for hours? Do you think I earned a college degree so that your inconsiderate self could completely obliterate my hard work?” Ok, so I probably have screamed that on occasion, because the cleaning of baseboards, grout, and tile is back-breaking work. And after a long day, the floor scrubber needs a drink. Or twelve. So screaming from your semi-bilingual floor scrubber is to be tolerated and really, expected. Because I am quite certain if you rang up Merry Maids to get a quote on how much to hand scrub (not even by an apprenticed floor scrubber) several hundred square feet, I am quite certain you would be told to go to hell.
As sparkly clean as my floors are, apparently my mind-set afterwards is not so great. So my considerate husband bought me a floor cleaner. It was highly rated on Amazon and my mom said it rocks too. But apparently Laith decided that if he was going to buy a floor cleaner, then he would go a step further and get the model that also cleans carpets. Dum, dum, dum. Which makes sense. I’m just glad he didn’t go two steps further and get one with a floor waxer. Actually, he should be glad he didn’t buy an appliance that waxes dirty surfaces.
I like to think that my house is pretty clean. It can get cluttery. And glittery. And hot-gluey. But that is how Mommy ticks, so we all accept it. My point being, we are not filthy people. Yes, we have a bathroom that is mainly used for pooping. But that is just good sense. I am secure in my housekeeping skills. Not too stringent, not too filthy, just right- and with the lingering scent of Fabuloso. Until the carpet cleaner.
Cleaning the carpet is a big process. First the vacuum is blocked up from Christmas tree pine needles. And the boy spawn has recently used it in his den of filth. So it is completely inoperable. After 48 minutes, modifications to a wire hanger to create a jabbing tool, and lots of creative curse words later, our Dyson has borne us a new pet:
she has my eyes, and my husband's hair
After clearing our cute new pet up, and emailing her photo to Amy Sedaris for inclusion into her next craft book (they can be like Cabbage Patch Kids!) I got to the carpet-cleaning section of our program. I had some serious mixed feelings. Partly proud that I undertook such a big task. Partly ashamed that my carpet was that filthy. And partly elated that I made such a difference in our lives! And equal parts relieved/surprised that I did not find a tooth when I dumped the carpet cleaning water.
even dirtier in person
So my artesian hand mopping floor days are behind me. Thank goodness. Now I have more time to patent and market my vaccuum cleaner animals. Based on the collections from my craft room, I am creating a glittery line.
Today I woke up and it was raining. And it’s Monday. And I stayed up entirely too late, so I am tired. This sounds like a recipe for an awful day. Nope- not me. I live for days like this. Sometimes I can be moody, so I appreciate it when the weather is on my side. Sometimes too much sunshine pisses me off. Today is already awesome.
People that know me personally know that I am a homeschool mom. Mostly because we can never talk candidly because my nosey kids are around. Well, I recently stopped homeschooling one kid, but that is a story for another day. So, there is now usually one nosey kid around, but she makes excellent coffee, so we often send her to do that while we speak of adult matters. Yeah, I homeschool and live in California. Surprise, surprise, eh?
So Monday is a day where I have a few hours to myself because one kiddo is in school, and another one takes some homeschool classes. Homeschool away classes. Oxymoron? It’s pretty awesome. I usually run around wondering what I should prioritize. Laundry, stress relief (say what?),cleaning, lesson plan? Grocery shopping, bathe the dog, file some papers, sew something? Read a book, cook dinner, play guitar hero? Dammit! It’s like having a newborn without a napping schedule all over again! Except no sore nipples. Praise the Lord, becasue I don’t have any cabbage leaves in the fridge. Mostly I run around, starting 12 different projects, and finishing none. It’s not very productive, or good for my mind-set.
So today I am going to enjoy my day after I drive the home school carpool to class. And then I am coming right back home to make some homemade soup, start some laundry, and get some sewing done. All without changing out of my fuzzy pajamas. I need a crafty, creative, stay-at-home-day. It’s good for me and I think that someone ordered up this weather to tell me to slow down and regroup.
not the only electronic I have have a date with today
Have a terrific Monday!
Look away: if you think a mom bitching profanely about her children is ungodly
This has been a supremely sucky week. Really truly awful. No, no one has died. That I know personally. I’m not losing my house. Just my mind. And my dog has not run off. But since he has been groomed, he’s lost that comforting corn tortilla smell on the top of his head. And that is kinda sucky too. Although it has lessened my queso cravings signficantly.
I’ve spent a fair amount of time in my jammies, with unwashed hair, and staring at my ceiling fan. And not in the way my husband would prefer me to. More like staring at the dust that accumulates when no one is looking. Although I haven’t quite sunk to the level where I morph into the plaid that is on my couch. Bitch, please. If I actually had a plaid couch and it wasn’t in my country house, I’d just do myself in.
So I’ve been walking around wondering how I gave birth to the 2 most ungrateful people pushed out of a birth canal. I would say born, but I don’t want to steal anyone’s thunder that have given birth to some ungrateful C-section kids. And I am generally pissed at both of these kids. For a number of reasons. All of which are super stupid. And to clarify- the actions are stupid, not the kids. Yeah- I know the kids aren’t selfish, stupid, or mean- their actions are. And by the same rational thinking- I am not being a bitch. My actions are simply bitchy. But two of them at this very moment are surely conspiring to make me mentally unhealthy.
Luckily the weekend is upon us. And it’s Friday during Lent. And I have this golden ticket:
i'm clearing out my purse to smuggle some of those cheese biscuits
Hey- I know it’s not a golden ticket. And it’s likely expired. But is gives me reason to scoop up one of the ungrateful (acting) ones, shove him in the car, and drive him to Red Lobster before the rush for dinner. I spent many of my childhood Fridays at the Irving Red Lobster with the red booths. In fact, my husband had a business trip last week and took both sets of my grandparents there for dinner. What a damn gem he is. Poke fun if you want, but I find Red Lobster very comforting and Catholic. So it’s kinda like going to church. Yes, that does in fact make sense.
So whenever my twerpy (behaving) kids grow up and procreate some occasionally genetically equally twerpy (behaving)kids I hope the internet is still around. I will point them to this post and laugh evilly and display the tattoo that I plan on getting tattooed on their dad’s ass that says “payback’s a bitch.” So listen up kids: luckily your dad and I love each other enough to band together in anticipation of mocking you via our future hellion (acting) grandchildren. And we love you both enough too. Now pass the popcorn shrimp and quit being so dang awful (behaving.)
surpriseitsmom 