Music Meme

It's Shylah's fault... she made me do it!! Since music is hugely important to me, I'm actually enjoying this meme...

10 random consecutive tracks from iPod WMP:

November Rain~ Guns & Roses
This Is How We Do IT~ Montell Jordan (OMG I'm embarrassed!)
Roll On 18 Wheeler~ Alabama
Re-arranged~ Limp Bizkit
Ain't Drinkin' Anymore~ Kevin Fowler
Baby Blue~ George Strait
Run~ George Strait
Lullabye (Goodnight My Angel)~ Billy Joel
Wild Horses~ Sarah McLaughlan
That's Cool~ Silkk the Shocker ft. Trina


What's the total number of music files on your computer?
540 EDITORS NOTE: Make that 1007, apparently a bunch of my files were hiding from WMP!!

The last CD you bought was:
Dave Matthews~ Some Devil


What was the last song you listened to before this meme?
I have no clue, it was on the country station in the car.

Name 5 songs that you listen to often or that mean a lot to you:
This is REALLY hard for me, a lot of songs are meaningful to me...

The Woman With You~ Kenny Chesney
I Melt~ Rascal Flatts
Crazy~ Dave Matthews Band
Semi-charmed Life~ Third Eye Blind
Ants Marching~ Dave Matthews Band


Who are you gonna pass this stick to?
Cori
Tish

Jinxed!

Genuine jinxed me. Damn you, G! He blogged about his case of the Mondays this morning, and how Murphy's Law rules in his house. Well, my day started out decent enough, but oh, the disasters that struck this evening!! Both kids decided to forgo the potty after dinner, and wet their pants. Grrr. No huge deal yet, just annoying. Then, while I was in the bathroom washing off my makeup, all of 3 minutes tops, all hell broke loose. Shane decided to go #2 in his pants, and then shove the pants under the kitchen table. Madison noticed the pitcher of apple juice I had just made, and decided to pull it onto the floor. I walk into my kitchen to find a flood of apple goodness on my freshly mopped floors, Shane with poop all over his legs and rear, and a "surprise" under the table. Nice. Really, really nice. Needless to say I'm not entertained, the kids have been bathed, the floor re-mopped, the laundry washed, but my floors will be sticky for at least a week, and I think I sprouted my first grey hair.

Thanks for clarifying that

This is possibly the shortest news article EVER. Headline on Yahoo read:
Sen. Clinton Collapses During Appearance
Click to read the actual article. Someone is totally wasting their journalism degree!

The Infamous NYT article

Everyone in the blogosphere has read the infamous article in the New York Times that calls parenting blogs "An online shrine to parental self-absorption." I'm not even going to bother linking to it, mainly because I'm too lazy to look it up right now. Anyway, since we're all buzzing about it, and rightfully so since it's more than a little insulting, I want to add my 2 cents. Is this a parental shrine to self-absorption? Well, yes and no. I am totally and completely devoted to my children. I'm also pretty devoted to myself, because I've been with me for 22 years, and it doesn't look like I'm going anywhere soon. So I do talk about myself, my kids, my husband, and my pets quite a bit. I also talk about my online friends, my real life events, the news, the blogs I read, and occasionally stupid people. For the big name blogs, like Genuine, Suburban Bliss, and Sarcastic Journalist to name a few, each has their own niche. All three of those bloggers are parents, but we read about their life, entertaining thoughts, and sometimes we participate in games or discussions. Genuine's readers helped name his now 6 month old baby, and will help name the new bun in Mrs. G's oven. SJ blogged through her daughter's birth, but she was a blogger way before the pregnancy, and was "Dooced". Melissa at Suburban Bliss makes you feel like you are a good friend joining her for coffee and a scone, sharing war stories of parenting and marriage. The journalist who wrote the NYT article apparently only glanced at most of the blogs he mentioned, but he probably read a lot of Dooce. I like Dooce, Heather is entertaining, but it is sort of self-absorbed. She turned off her comments (for good personal reason) so her blog is not about a sense of community, but rather an outlet for her struggles and frustrations. That's perfectly ok, since obviously quite a few of us like reading it, but it doesn't describe the rest of us, and the intentions of our blogging. So if you have a blog, or are thinking about starting one, go for it!! Write about whatever you want, for yourself, or to entertain, or even to just embarrass your kids. Maybe blogging is the new scrapbooking. Just have fun!

Poke her wth a stick!!

I like to sleep. A lot. As you may know, if you've read the last week's worth of posts, I'm not sleeping, and unhappy about it. Since I'm sick I bought some Nyquil, and hopefully will pass out in about 10 minutes. Until then I'll entertain you with a description of an average night with a sleeping crazy woman.

N is working nights right now, and gets home about 6:30 am. We have a queen sized bed that I like to sprawl out on when alone. As in I'll lay diagonally just to maximize my sprawling. N is no small guy so he usually needs me to move in order to lay down and get some sleep. He's known since the early stages of our relationship that I'm just not a damn morning person. As in you should wear a football helmet and pads when waking me, and poking me with a stick seems completely reasonable. Everyone knows not to call before 9 am, and God forbid we have an early appointment. Anyway, with N on the night shift, it gets tricky.
N-"Baby, I'm home..."
C (with head spinning and red eyes)-"I don't ******* care, leave me the **** alone." (commence spastic flailing of arms and legs)
N- "Ok, I Love you too!"
(N tries to get into bed, braces himself for at least a couple elbows flying into him as I'm nudged over)
Later, when told of these antics, I have no recollection of them, but I always ask why he bothers to tell me he's home. Apparently, he's afraid if he doesn't tell me and just gets into bed, I'll think someone has broken in and will beat the crap out of the "intruder". Nevermind the elbows he already takes in this ritual. Poor guy is screwed either way. Luckily he loves me, and has grown accustom to my sleepy abuse, but how lucky am I to have a man who will put up with that?

TMI

Today is not a fun day. I'm sick, there is a little head cold going around, and Shane and I have it. (Actually, this is my 2nd go-round with this damn bug!) Today was spent lazy and snuggley on the couch. The problem is my boobs. They are swollen and sore in protest, I guess, since there is no reasonable explanation for this. Not normally a blog-worthy event, except they might as well have targets painted on them. My children have taken every opportunity to grind their bony little elbows, knees, fists, and butts into my chest. Trying to climb on mommy's lap? Just dig into her boobs for leverage. Getting fidgety? Push hard into her chest to find a comfy spot. Bored? A nice hard toddler noggin to mommy's twins might entertain you! Ha Ha! Look at the way mommy cries when we do that. Do it again!The poor hubs got yelled at for hugging me as he left for work. "Don't squeeze God dammit! Didn't I mention they HURT?!"

On to other news from my nuthouse, my children's room officially smells like a urinal. Since we are potty training, and the pull up training pants seem to enable my children to pee without care, we have resorted to regular undies only, damn the laundry that ensues. The problem is my kids will often sleep on the floor together, so rather than pee on the sheets and their waterproof mattresses, they pee on their blankets and the carpet below. It's a nice pungent odor that hits you in the face when you open the door. I need to get a carpet cleaner. In the meantime, I wonder where I can find one of those deodorant tablets they put in the urinals... the whole house can smell like a piney truck stop!

I think I'll just go to bed now...

Margaret Spellings and the anti-gay crusaders

Jay and Kim have been blogging about Secretary of Education Margaret Spellings' outcry over the PBS show Postcards from Buster episode depicting families headed by lesbian couples. I think Kim's letter to Mrs. Spellings describes my opinion perfectly, and I urge you to go read it. Kim asked that we all blog about it to show our disgust with Mrs. Spellings trying to regulate the morals of all Americans. So here is my 2 thumbs down to Margaret Spellings and my support for the gay and lesbian community's right to raise their families. Last time I checked this was The United States of America, not the Untied States of Christian Morals Only.

Genuine Bash Jan 2005

We are well into Genuine Bash 2005 and Genuine just passed out. On his webcam. You know you wanna be here next month to see it yourself!!

And the award for Miss Obnoxious 2005 goes to...

Her. This one finally pushed me over the edge. She posted about her neighbors who share the duplex she lives in. Apparently they are slobs, currently child-less slobs, but slobs no less. Here are my favorite quotes from the original post.

"... While they aren't anything like our typical friends, and no one else in the neighborhood cares for them, we like them. But why oh why can't my cleanliness rub off on them, or at least her???"
(She goes on to describe how disgusting the house is, and how it's from "pure laziness".)

"I've gone up to both of them on their days off, and offered to help them clean and have even told them I'd clean their entire downstairs for $100 (which is great considering the condition of the house). But Noooooooo! they like their dirty mess, I guess."

"...I've even told her I don't like going in her house because it's so dirty."

"I know I'm a bit of a perfectionist, but it's not just me who complains to them. They know all of the neighbors prefer not to go in their house because it's so unsanitary."

"I guess I've offered all I can, and all I can do is sit back and hope they need my help at some point? :) But honestly, how does ANYONE live like that??? YUK!!!!"

OK, first of all, this is not the 1st (or 10th) time we've heard about her wonderfully perfect and clean house. We get it, you're PERFECT! Second, this comes a couple days after she posted it has been 1 year since she found out her husband had a hooker overseas. So can we all say "Overcompensate much?" She repeatedly mentions in the responses she is not going to report them to CPS (neighbor *may* be pregnant), or post command (military housing has strict cleanliness standards) because she is SUCH a good friend, but she thinks they are lazy for not cleaning up. Um, I know I talk shit about all my good friends behind their backs, don't you? Someone mentions her mother had low self esteem, and could only feel better about herself by criticizing others, but this point went over Miss Obnoxious' head. So let's recap...

Miss Obnoxious 2005 is a better housekeeper than you, buys expensive things all the time, has a credit score near 800, her baby deserves to win awards for cuteness, her marriage is perfect, her president is right, her religion should rule our country, and anyone who doesn't think so should be treated as second class. (But honestly, we're ALL second class compared to HER!) She promises to tell you these points constantly, but continue to beg for your sympathy because her hubby strayed. Personally, I can't blame her hubby, her perfection must be too much to handle.

Landslide victory if you ask me!

** Disclaimer: If you are reading this thinking I must be the biggest bitch ever, you're right, but that's irrelevant. This woman would grate the nerves of any normal person, but the board we belong to is too well regulated for me to tell her so there. If you disapprove of my snarkiness please feel free to send me hatemail... I'll gladly make fun of that too. Cjaping at yahoo dot com. :)

Just Random

I'm going to post a few of the more random things that have happened this week.

• N got a message on his cell phone from someone we have not spoken to in a year (and never planned on speaking to again), saying she thought it was my number (she knew better) and that a guy we worked with over a year ago comitted suicide. I haven't been able to verify that yet, but she says it happened 12 Dec, but she decided to call me (N really) this week. Weird, especially since I wasn't close to the guy, though I liked him, and it's sad news.
• Our landlord had cut down a bunch of trees to clear the property, and had made a MASSIVE (like way too big to be reasonable) pile. We were expected to burn the pile, but couldn't because of rains and it being green wood. When we attempted to burn it we would usually only get a small portion to burn, and it was getting to be a hassle. Finally we got about 75% of it to burn a few nights ago, and I have to admit I had WAY too much fun for physical labor, not to mention playing with fire. Who knew burning stuff could be so fun??
• My insomnia is still kicking my ass. As in I didn't get to sleep until after 6 am this morning, because N made the mistake of waking my up a few hours earlier, and I couldn't get back to sleep. He let me sleep in all morning, probably because I threatened to rip off a certain body part and shove it up his nose for waking me. I'm mean when I'm tired... like grizzly bear mean! Thank God N loves me, who else would put up with that?
• Mads is sick, the cold passed from N to me, and now her. Luckily it passes quickly, but she is just inconsolable and exhausted today. Poor thing, nothing sucks worse than seeing your baby sick.
• Mads also snuck into my purse today, and ate 4 pieces of mint flavored gum. She's already a little anal retentive, so this should be interesting.
  

Well, that about sums up my random week thus far... I hope you have been having a more entertaining time!

A few weeks ago with boring brown hair... but damn my kid is CUTE!!

My newly highlighted hair, though you can't see the streaks well in the photo

Promises, Promises!

I promise to update with soemthing interesting soon, along with pics of my hair. BTW, it didn't quite turn out the way I'd planned, but I'm pretty happy with it anyway, I'll let you be the judge later. Anyway, I'm just not blogging because I'm cranky, miserable, whiny, and pathetic right now. Not fun to read, huh? Actually, it may be entertaining, and I might go into it later, but it's so not fun to blog about when you are in the midst of it. I'm neurotic, I've always been neurotic, and always will be. Occasionally it really gets me in this type of funk, so woe is me! Oh, and insomnia has me in a freaking headlock, so far nothing is working, I've tried one OTC med, am connsidering going back for another, but I honestly think this calls for some Valium. Too bad I have none, and therefore suffer in my anxiety filled sleeplessness. Any suggestions? Well, I'll stop whining now, maybe tomorrow will be better!

So Far...

Well, the first attempt did not go as planned. The top of my head looked fin, but the stupid little comb you are supposed to use didn't distribute the color evenly down my head. It would be fin if my hair were only a couple inches long, but not good for my below the shoulder cut. So, Take 2! I have put more on in hopes of evening it out. Hmmm... do I smell disaster?

A quick DTV update

I posted a couple days ago about my DirecTV being screwy. Well, it wasn't my system, it was them. And being the #1 ranked provider in customer service, they left this on their tech support number. "If your receiver is shutting off and resetting without your input, there is no need to wait for a representative. We are aware of the problem, and working to fix it." It's slowly improving, but I'm glad to know it wasn't my (expensive) equiptment! The kids are still in shock when it turns off, you'd think they would be used to it by now!

Foolish

One might say that I'm foolish. Why? Well, you think I would learn from Cori's mistake, and not attempt any home hair highlighting. However, we all know I'm insane, or at least a little eccentric, so when she told me about her hair disaster I thought "Hey! I'm bored and miss having highlights. I'll go buy me some color and have at it!" (I should have been especially scared, because she sent me pics... it really was jumpsuit orange!) Well, in about 25 minutes we'll know if I should enter beauty school or not. I did the all-over color last night, and it came out well. I've been dying my own hair since I was in 8th grade, I can't really tell you what my natural color is. However, I've only had highlights done professionally, until tonight. The dye is on my head, and I will know soon if I need to ask N to stop at HEB in the morning on his way home for more dye. Oh, that's a bad idea. He can barely remember to pick up cigarettes in his exhausted post-night shift state, He may come home with some absurd dye. (His Ex is a cosmotologist, this man knows more about hair products than I do, but sleep deprivation is a mofo.) Well, one thing's for sure... either way I'll post pictures here. You can either laugh or marvel, whichever is appropriate. 15 minutes and counting!

Getting to the good stuff (unless you are easily offended)

Every state has wacky laws, but sometimes you really have to wonder what provoked the law to be written. Actually, I'm not so much talking about laws specifically, but in this instance an Army regulation. N and I were talking about TX, the Army, and just life in general. At some point BJs came up, and how they are banned in the military. (Not just BJs, all oral sex.) This brings up an few interesting thoughts.
1. How is this enforcable? Granted the Army can do random home inspections, but how often does an NCO show up at your door while you're having sex? And they can't just walk in, so how would the prove it? Breathalyzer? "Son, you been eating that coochie? Come here... blow on this!" (no pun intended!)

2. I'm not sure what it's punishable by, but if you got an Article 15 for it, how uncomfortable would you be standing in front of your chain of command because you got a BJ? "Yes sir! I will not let my wife do *that* again SIR!" (Oh come on, no married guy is getting head... everyone knows that!)

3. What had to happen for some MALE soldier to write that reg? Is there any guy in his right mind who doesn't want a little head action? There are a couple possibilities to this. A: He wasn't getting any, so no one else should be B: his wife wanted some, and he was looking for a way out of that. "Sorry honey, Army says I can't do *that*!" C: It was an attempt to prohibit homosexual acts, though that is a whole other regulation, and therefore is redundant.

So what do you think? What would make the US Army have a ban against oral sex? Anyone interested in protesting it?

Oh no!! Mommy!

That's what I've been hearing for 2 days now. Why? My Directv system is having issues. Now, I've been a DTV customer for a few years, and generally love them, but for 2 days my system has been locking up, shutting down, and restarting. When this happens during Dora or Backyardigans, it is a major catastrophe. The frightening part is right before it shuts off, it sounds like it is posessed by Satan. Um, since when is Dora a child of Satan? Not good! Anyway, the kids say "Oh NO!!" and proceed to tell me repeatedly that there is a technical problem. The bright spot? (I'm good at silver linings) When the guide is reinstalling there are little yellow bars that tick across. The kids are trying to count them. "1, 2, 3, 8, 11... yea!!!" So we've been practicing our counting, since those pesky numbers between 3 and 8 get them every time! I know what you are thinking, "Why don't you call and get it fixed?" I did, and after 20 minutes on hold, the tech tells me to reset (which I've already done), and then transfers me. 15 more minutes on hold, they guy in tech support says "Well, I suggest you wait another day or so, and if it doesn't fix itself it'll have to be replaced." Ya think?! So, after the second day, we tried to use our other reciever that is currently sitting in a closet (took me 48 hours to think of that!!), but that access card isn't programed, and they are tied to the reciever serial numbers, so they cannot be switched. Will someone please call customer care for me, and have them switch the cards? I cannot bear being on hold that long again. **sigh**

Blog it forward

The whole "ask and ye shall receive" thing is true! I asked Genuine for a picture of the original Starbucks while he was in Seattle, and he posted one. Christine asked all her readers to do a little "blog it forward" post, and here is mine. See, you can get anything with a "please" and "thank you". (Unless you are my children asking for *more* candy before dinner... that is still a "No!")

I didn't stumble upon this site, but she stumbled upon me. The nice thing about that is I usually enjoy the sites of people who leave comments on mine, and this one is definitely a good read. TheQueen is a single mom, and I have much respect for any single mom, especially one of a teen. Her 3 kids keep her quite busy, and apparently are very hard on plumbing. If I found all those things in my sink I'd die. Then I'd come back to life just to make them eat the booger soup. Come on, click the link... you know you wanna! Enjoy!

The one where she links a lot

Keeping in my theme (read: laziness) for the night, I was just over a Rockstar Mommy's. I have been shocked and appalled to find out that many people do not know what a cheesesteak is. As in, they've never heard of a Philly Cheesesteak. Is this possible? So, I'll explain, while drooling on my keyboard. You see? I mentioned in an earlier post that I'm homesick. Cheesesteaks are one of the things I miss about home, and will be one of my first orders of business upon arrival at Philadelphia International.
A cheesesteak is a hoagie (or sub/grinder/whatever your locale calls it) made with thinly sliced rib-eye steak, grilled, and served on a roll with cheese, sauteed onions, and any other toppings you like. A Philly Cheesesteak (are you taking notes??) is the "original", and has specific qualities. The meat is shredded into tiny bits while grilled, and you add Cheez Wiz. (that's important!) You also add in whatever toppings you like, then flip the meat into an Amoroso roll. (again important!) Voila... you have a delicious steak, though you want to be careful, just looking at one can clog your arteries. Serve this with some WaWa Peach iced tea, your favorite Tastykake, and you one hell of a meal. If ever in the area, stop by Jim's Steaks on South St., or the famous Geno's, or Pat's. On your way to the Shore, stop in my family's deli, we make a mean hoagie of our own.

Next up... family affairs

My wonderful blog friend Tish has been giving us a tour of the nutty branch on her family tree. Come on, admit it... we all have a branch (or 10) that makes you wonder how much lead paint their mothers were exposed to. If you can't figure out which family member that is, be careful, you are probably the nut! My family? They aren't so much crazy as tempermental. We're the ones who embarass everyone, because we're loud, and we all lack that censor in our brain that keeps us from blurting out tacky things. I've fallen victim to the missing gene, I shouldn't be around anyone easily offended. So, let's pick one member of my family to discuss. I'll go with my step-grandfather, so no current family members will be offended if they get ahold of this. You see, he was my Grandmom's second husband, and the only grandfather I knew on that side. He is boisterous, likes to drink, and is a wealthy buisnessman, so this can lead to embarassing situations. One time, when I was a pre-teen, my parents, a couple of their friends, and I drove up to Cape Cod to visit him. Upon our arrival, he took us all out to a nice seafood restaurant on the Cape, where he had a reservation for 15. Well, they screwed it up, so we waited for about 30 minutes while they arranged some tables together for us, and my grandfather passed the time with some Miller Lites. By the time we get seated, he's had a bit much to drink, and decides he's mad. He refuses to order himself food, but tells me (an 11 year old) to order a 3 lb lobster. (After all, he *is* the man who taught me how to eat those yummy beasts!) So he's picking at my lobster, and eating half of his wife's dinner (but he wasn't hungry at all!), all the while wearing sunglasses inside at night, and saying "Thes ish bullshet. BULLSHET!" People are looking at us like we're insane, the poor waitress looked like she might quit on the spot, his wife is rolling her eyes and shushing him, my parents and their friends are hysterical, and me? I'm enjoying my lobster with Grandpop Lew, oblivious to it all! What did I care, I was his princess, dammit!

Funbags!?

Tonight I'm not feeling very creative, but I'm really enjoying the stuff other bloggers are writing. So, I'm going to write some related posts, sharing the twisted fun of my own stories with you. (Trackback much?) First up? The Sarcastic Journalist. If you aren't reading her blog, you should be... she's damn funny. She is having boob issues, and since she is still breastfeeding, the trips to the doctors are always fun. So... my most embarassing breastfeeding moment!
When I was still breastfeeding the twins, you can just imagine how HUGE my boobs were. Any mom who nursed can tell you how leaks will pop up at the worst possible time. Every Saturday, my best friend Amy and I would leave the kids with the hubbies, and go grocery shopping. I know, I know... it's lame, but it was a nice break for us! We always went to the commissary on Ft. Hood, which means going through a checkpoint with soldiers checking IDs. As we are pulling up to said gate, I'm driving, and don't pay any attention to the tingle in my chest telling me it's time to whip out the milk jugs. Well, I'm rolling down my window, and turn to Amy for her ID when she says "Um, Crys... you have a problem!!" (She's nursing at this point too, so at least there is sympathy) My red tank top now has 2 saucer size wet spots on the girls, making it look like a wet t shirt contest during a drought. Well, if you have never tried to drive through a checkpoint with your arms folded across your chest, you haven't lived. Even better? We were pulled to the side for a random spot check, meaning I have to get out of my car, open all doors, the trunk, and the hood, then stand there while 3 soldiers inspect my car for bombs or terrorists. Thank God Ft. Hood was protected from my leaky jugs, the could have put an eye out!

Toddlerhood

You know, I haven't been a mother too long in the scheme of things, but I'm far enough into this insanity to make a few observations. When my kids are teens I will probably look back and laugh at my current self, but this is regardless.
Carissa was discussing her 1 year old son, and how his head knocking into her's knocked out a tooth. Not just any tooth, a molar. Wow... that's some head! It made me smile a bit, because I've got an appointment with the dentist this week to repair a tooth my wonderful son broke. One too many head butts and my front tooth cracked. Great. Parenthood is bad for your teeth. Anyway, I've realized quickly that what we think is the hardest point in our children's lives is usually not. When they are babies, we PRAY for a good night's sleep, thinking it cannot possibly get any worse than this and "OMG, will the baby ever stop crying?". Fast forward to toddlerhood... you begin to wonder what in the world happened to your child, and where did this demon come from. "No" becomes the most common phrase in your house, as in "No, you cannot flush the kitty down the potty!", "No!! You are not allowed to climb up there!" "No, markers are not to be used on Mommy's carpets!" "No, we do not throw things at the ceiling fan!", etc. At this point, you pray for them to revert to babies, because you may not have been sleeping, but dammit, the kids couldn't get very far. I'm sure I will reminisce about toddlerhood when my school-aged kids are wreaking havoc on the world, and I'll just pray for valium when I have two 15 year olds learning to drive. The moral of the story (yes, folks... there IS a point!) is cherish each day with the kids, you'll soon forget about spilled oatmeal, and knocked out teeth. Unless of course, the spilled oatmeal is yours since you have no teeth to chew your food. (I can almost hear the collective swallowing of birth control pills right now!)

Haloscan

Well, I've "upgraded" my comments to Haloscan, but I have hit a little speed bump. My old comments on Blogger are gone, it says 6 comments on my last post, but those comments are nowhere to be found!! Does anyone in Blogger-world know how to fix this, or if it even can be fixed? There is a reward for any information leading to the recovery of my comments, Said reward will be named later this evening. Please contact me at cjaping at gmail dot com Thanks!

Like, OMG!!

I guess this weekend is my bitchfest, because here I go again!!
Ok, there is this woman, my age, married, has 1 child, and thinks her family is God's gift to the world. She belongs to an online group I belong to, and is incessently posting about the newest expensive ridiculous item she bought, or how high her credit score is, how much money her husband makes, etc. Oh, and she's a God fearing woman, don't you forget it! A Republican (are you shocked?), her hubby is in the service, but she still stands by her President because he doesn't like gays. And you know, gay marriage would RUIN the sanctity of her CHRISTIAN marriage. (Personally, I thought the hookers her lovely husband enjoyed overseas did that already!) "Omgosh, don't let those nasty homos marry! They could corrupt my kid! Did I mention the 3 new cars we have? And my credit score is 799!"
I could go on and on about her, and I'm not the only one. There are literally thousands of members to this board, probably about a hundred post on a regular basis, and she is the only one who drives me this insane. There are a couple women on there that I don't care for, but none are as obnoxious as this particular one. Since this is a well-regulated board, there is no flaming or rude comments allowed, so I'll have to vent my frustrations here. And if by some chance you are reading this, you now know I REALLY don't like you. I'm sure you'll get over it, just go shopping!

Unpopular

This post might actually get me hate mail, but that isn't my intent. Spc. Charles Graner was found guilty in the Abu Ghraib prisoner abuse case. Personally, I think this is bullshit, plain and simple. Why? He's a lower enlisted, he is the bottom of the "food chain" so to speak. His superiors knew what their guys were doing and turned there heads. This is not at all uncommon in the Army, the Don't Ask, Don't Tell policy isn't the only ostrich maneuver the service pulls. However, when it came time to fess up, the NCOs and Officers let these low ranking soldiers take the fall for them. Personally, I don't care if they abuse the detainees, they would be abused if taken POW, this isn't recess it's WAR! Killing people legally gives soldiers a God complex, where they think no one can tell them what to do, and getting shot at causes stress on a psyche most of us will never know. Combine these emotions/rationales and you have prisoner abuse. Try this: You are walking down Main street with your closest friend, when a shot rings out ans blows friend's head off. You capture the guy who shot him, but instead of going to the police, you have to keep him in custody yourself. Days and days of feeding this guy who shot your friend in front of you, looking at him and thinking about your buddy's blood on his hands. Would you be able to resist getting a few kicks in on him? How about if he had information on people trying to kill thousands of innocent people. How far would you go to save those lives? War is war... these people are trying to kill our soldiers, they are cutting the heads off our civilians, they are blowing up innocent people! Do you know anyone that died in Iraq? I know 3 good soldiers with families left behind, blown up by car bombs and improvised explosive devices. There is a damn good chance my husband will go to Iraq soon, and face the same dangers. I expect him to behave accordingly, do what it takes to get the damn job done and come home to us. The bottom line is this: A soldier's job is not to die for his country, it's to make the other motherfucker die for *his*. You do what you have to do. Ok, that's my end rant. To Spc. Graner and his family, I'm truly sorry... life's a bitch.

Where are my glasses??

You know how when you were a kid, you always thought mom had eyes in the back of her head? Like when you were sneaking a cookie before dinner, and she catches you without even turning around? Well, today in the car, I figured out why our children think that. They were sitting in their car seats, playing with toy cars, making the wheels spin. Madison says "Mommy... look!" and I hear the tires spinning on the little race car. I said (without turning around) "Good job, baby!!", which made Shane want a little praise too. "Mom! Mom! Look!" "Very good, Boo Boo!" (yes... I call him Boo Boo, so what?!) again not moving my head. I figure a few more years of that, and they will be convinced I see all. Really, I just hear all, but the effect will be the same, they will be frightened to sneak around me, thinking I'll catch them with my other eyes. What? What do you mean it won't work?! They'll figure out how to be sneakier?? Balderdash! Didn't anyone tell you? I'm Mommy, dammit!

To do lists

Christine inspired me to write this post, because she is turning 30, and compiled a short list of things to do in the future. She is asking everyone to comment with a list of their own, which I did. But since I'm 22, my list is long, and I'd rather post about it here than take up all of her space. You came here willingly, so I can bore you with details, but I'm not trying to alienate her readers! What I hope to do by age 30... Here goes!!

In no particular order, and this list is subject to change at any time:

Own a home
Take a cruise
Take the kids and N to Disney World for the first time (I've been more times than I can count, but they haven't)
Meet Cori in person
Have another baby
Travel somewhere that requires a passport
(obtain a passport!)
Get a degree in something
Own a pair of Manolo Blahniks
Live in a big city (I have always wanted to, but I really don't see it happening in the next 8 years)
Learn foreign language
Get another tattoo
Get my teeth fixed

I'm really easy to please, I guess. I'm actually incredibly spoiled, (it's all N's fault!) so I know I could have any of those things, provided we could afford it. In the meantime, Cori and I will dream about the fairies who will drop the $350 mil on my front lawn, so we can have all the things we dream of NOW!

Blog dammit!!!

I really need to get my ass in gear and blog! I just haven't felt interesting enough to entertain you nice folks, so I've been avoiding my Blogger dashboard like the plague. I promise to come up with something interesting in the next couple hours. If, for whatever reason, I cannot, I'll entertain you with stories of stupidity from my Ex. This is probably why I haven't blogged, I've been incredibly entertained (read: laughing my ass off at his expense) by the information/events of the last week. :) I know I'm evil, I can't help it!

Smiling

Today has been a good day. Madison's cast came off, the Army papers are moving along for N, and karma has finally come through for me. I will not go into details, at least not right now, but justice is finally being served on Ft. Hood TX, and it has NOTHING to do with the prisoner abuse trials going on here. Lesson?? Behave and play nice in the sandbox, karma can be a REAL BITCH!! Oh, and the moron who lives in a glass house should not throw stones!!

The cast is OFF!!!!

'Scuse me while I do the happy dance...
The cast is off, the cast is off, thank the Lord the cast is off!!!

Ok, I'm better now!! Maddie went today to get the cast off, and her femur is looking great! What an odd statement that is, but it's true and I'm happy. She's a bit cranky and stiff, but getting around without it, by tomorrow I'm sure she'll be back to normal. Now the quandry... in order to prevent refracture, we need to keep the jumping and roughing around to a minimum. How do you explain this to a 2 year old?? Pray for my sanity!!

Gotta be family friendly!!!

Last night, I had the house to myself, and took a nice bath. I had gotten out of the bathtub, and heard my IM go off, Cori had signed back in. (The PC is my bedroom, away from sticky toddler hands!) Anyway, I grabbed some yoga pants and a white tank top, and got dressed. I looked down to notice my white tank top is see-through, and my instant reaction is to grab a bra. GOD FORBID THE INTERNET SEE MY GIRLS!! Now, my real concern is when did I get so modest? What happened to the days of flashing Spring Break style without a second though?? Oh... that's right... I had kids. Oh, well... you weren't missing much then!!

Goin' to the big D

N is in Dallas overnight for his military physical. This means I am not only by myself, but BORED because it's Sunday. Why are Sundays so freaking boring?? I have been seriously tempted to just beat my head against the computer desk, there is just nothing to do! Actually, I was not bored for an hour, because I just watched the new Desperate Housewives. For anyone who hasn't had the pleasure... what's wrong with you?? Do you live under a rock?? Anyway, the show is over, and I'm back to bored. I'm waiting (impatiently) to see what Tish's results to her Jeopardy post are. (hint hint Tish!!) Tomorrow is back to the everyday crap, appointments, calls to make, chores to do, all the fun housewife stuff. I guess I shouldn't complain about being bored!!

Fear and Loathing

Overheard from my kitchen a few moments ago.

"Uh oh... a meh (mess in Shane-glish). Sissy!! MEH!!!"

This is my cue that all hell has broken loose, something has spilled, and I will probably need to bathe both children immediately. I got lucky this time, it was just a small lake of milk pooling on the kitchen floor. It is not unusual to find my whole house destroyed while I do something as frivilous as pee with the door shut. One of these days I WILL have a clean house AND be able to use the bathroom without fear. In the meantime, does anyone know where I can get a dairy cow cheap??

"Ok, kids.... take off your clothes!!"

The school strip searched children. And it's legal.
In a TX town, it's perfectly ok, and the parents didn't have to consent. Just read it, and tell me if I'm the only one who thinks this is fucked up. Let me ask you something.... have you ever been strip searched at the office for missing Post-it(c) notes?? Why is this ok, when it would certainly never fly in an adult world. WTF??? I hope the mom sues the crap out of the school, and I'm generally not a litigous person, but come on!!!

SLEEEEEEP!!!! For the love of God, go to sleep!!!

That's what I've been telling my children, who have been boycotting sleep. We were doing ok in the bedtime department for a while, but then they realized they can actually make veins pop out of mommy's forehead if they refuse to sleep. It's 12:01 CST and I believe they are just now asleep. I say believe because I'm scared to go check. They were up less than 30 minutes ago, and it's been at least 2 hours since I took the lightbulb out so they couldn't turn the light on anymore. Please, I'm begging you fellow bloggers, give me some advice!!! They don't get sweets before bed, they have plenty of exercise and activity during the day, we have a bedtime routine, and there is a night light in there. Here's what happens:
Time for bed, we go through our routine. Shane points at his pillow wanting me to lay down with him, which I do for about 2 minutes. Mads gets upset because I'm giving her brother attention, so I tell Shane good night, kiss him, and go over to Madison. Snuggle her a bit, kiss her, tell them both good night, at which point Shane FREAKS!! 5 minutes of him screaming at the door, I go in and lay him back down. He quiets, then turns on the light until I catch them playing. Repeat for the next hour or so, before I finally take the bulb out. 2 hours of playing and talking to each other in the dark, until Mommy's veins are bulging, and sometime around midnight they fall asleep. Please help.... before I need professional help, or at least medicinal relief!!!

Updates coming... hopefully

Provided I don't have a nervous breakdown in the next few hours from all the additional crap that's been stressing me out lately, I will be updating tonight. For those faithful few who read this on a regular basis, I promise to be as crazy and entertaining as I possibly can. Thank you, and have a nice day!

De-Lurking Day!!

I'm jumping on the bandwagon that Sheryl at Paper Napkin started, and pushing De-lurking Day. This is the day that all the lurkers comment on sites, instead of reading silently. Let's face it, we all have a need for attention, and who doesn't LOVE to see comments on their blog?? Christine asked everyone to leave a comment on a blog you've never commented on before, but I'm going to up the ante. Leave a comment on every blog you read today, even if it's just a "Hi!". Seriousy, that takes only a few seconds. Please don't leave anything nasty, if you REALLY cannot be nice, just skip that one, and move on. Don't worry I won't tell. The exception? You can be nasty here if you really feel the need to, no worries, I can take it. I only make that offer because I love a good argument, and who knows, maybe your comment will be constructive to me. Not everyone has that personality, so everyone play nice in the sandbox!! So let's here what you have to say, good, snarky, or otherwise. I have a hard time believing you can lurk and not have SOME kind of opinion!! Happy blogging everyone!!

I've got a friend

I know... I know!! It's hard to believe!! Actually, you may know this friend since I talk about her frequently. So I'm going to blog about her, because this is definitely one of the coolest, but strangest friendships ever, You see, we've never met in real life. We belong to a message board together, and eventually started talking by Yahoo! Messenger. We're so alike it's scary... we could be sisters. Our lives have had many common points, even our husbands have the same type of personalities. I'm grateful for my friend Tink, because even though she lives in Cali, and I'm in TX, we still talk just about daily, and do normal friend things together. Let's see... we gossip, we sympathize, we bitch, we plot, we daydream, we have coffee, we drink, we celebrate, we ask advice, we vent, we play games, we shop, we listen to music, and we trade recipes. All from different states, thanks to the internet. I personally think she's one of the best moms I know, and am constantly getting advice from her. We share cool things we find with each other, though I wish we lived nearby so we could share more. (Like shoes... we wear the same size!! And we'd love to be able to trade babysitting, so maybe we could go out with our husbands every once in a while!)

So... it's class participation time!!! I'm feeling like no one ever reads my blog anymore, (except for those few... you know who you are!! :) ) And I want to know if I'm talking to myself. Tell me, do you have any close friends from the internet?? Or maybe a friend who moved away, and you keep in close touch online?? If so, post me a comment... then go HERE to send them an Ecard!!

The mind of Shane

I've got a weird son, though this is not surprising to those who know me best. So I'll share with you the weird things my son does... he can share these stories with his therapist later in life.

He loves to poop. LOVES IT!! He has to sit down and poop every time he goes to the potty. There are at least 2 occasions each day where I have to pull him kicking and screaming off the toilet, because he sits there and yells through the door "I potty!!" For the love of God, son... you don't need to go THAT much!!

He's obsessive about cleaning, and I swear this is not my fault. He will pick things up off the carpet, perhaps a crumb or tiny piece of fuzz, and shove it in my face saying "Mommy! MOMMY!" until I tell him "Well, go throw it away!" Then he wants a "five" or a hug for doing such a wonderful job. If I ask him to throw something out for me, he THANKS me for handing him this wonderful task. Drips some juice on the floor?? "Mommy MESS!!!" over and over until I wipe it up. Mr. Clean has taken over my 2 year old.

He's currently obsessed with one of the tables lamps in the living room. He and N are having a battle of wills about this one light being on. Shane must have it on, N wants it off. I am the ref. Wonderful.

He's equally obsessed with turning light switches on and off. And telling me about it.

Then, out of nowhere tonight, I hear him calling for me from his bed. We had bought them Build-A-Bears for potty training, and they are wearing little tee shirts and undies. Well, Shane is always taking off his bear's shorts, and I think I figured out why. It was dark in the room, since it is after bed time, and he was saying "pants!!" so I turned on the light to see if he had an accident. Nope... he had put his bear's shorts on up to his thighs, and then tried to take off his own underwear. This resulted in him getting stuck, and needing my help.

So I'm left to wonder... where does my son get these odd ideas and tendencies?? Why does he act so strange?? Really though, he's also so loving and sweet... he is affectionate and silly, and all around cute. Even if he *is* a weirdo!!

Because we're just weird

This is an actual comment from an online conversation my friend and I are having.
"R got home and wanted to know what we are doing. I told him we are spending our $350 mil that the fairies dropped on your panties instead of Dubya's ranch. He said 'Ok, what's for dinner?"
Funny thing is, that line makes perfect sense... we're freak shows!!!