Terrible at Blogging

Folks, I have let you down.  I have been terrible at blogging lately.  But, I just got a new craft table/computer desk and this should increase my blogging ten-fold!

I am blaming my recent move, the lack of daylight in Alaska, and my dry skin issues on the non blogging.  My skin is so dry I am looking into chapstick for my bunghole.  (But more on that in a later blog.  It really is a funny story.  I promise!)

17 Kids

I am obsessed with the shows on TLC that feature families with 16 or 17 kids.  I am currently fighting with two toddlers that refuse to go to bed.

Do you know what I would be with 17 kids.

Drunk.

Shit Happens

My two year old ate three feet of dental floss the other day.  And not just regular dental floss, but the dental floss that is really two pieces of floss twisted together.  One of the pieces is coated with fluoride.  Now, because of his culinary tastes, I have to closely examine his poop to make sure it comes out.  One of my friends asked what would happen if it only partially came out.  It told him I would take manicure scissors, cut it off, and tie a little bow.  Needless to say, he was pretty grossed out at my crassness.

The Crazies are Out

It is officially the holiday season and the crazies are out in full force.  I love how the sprirt and cheer of spending time with loved ones stresses everyone out and makes them go mental for a few weeks out of the year.  It is no wonder that most of us choose to spend the holidays knocking back holiday cocktails like nobodys business.

I already have a tree up and it is not even Thanksgiving yet.  Of course my children have decorated it with pipe cleaner ornaments and a colorful paper chain, so it doesn’t even look pretty until you have a couple of drinks in you to blur your vision…

Remember When Cold Medicine Was Good?

Seriously.  Remember the good old days when cold medicine could give you a high?  Remember when it would actually work alleviating your symptoms?  I was at Target the other day because I got massive head cold and I needed some good over the counter drugs.  Now, because of dumbass white trash meth makers, you can’t buy anything good over the counter.  The pharmaceutical companies have changed for formulas of everything and I think they are just selling us placebos.  You can’t even get a good NyQuil drunk on anymore and pass out at bedtime!  WHAT IS THIS WORLD COMING TO!!!  I just wanted to drug myself up enough to ignore my cold and I couldn’t even do that with the wimpy medications I purchases.  AND, I got carded for buying cold medicine.  CARDED FOR BUYING COLD MEDICINE.  You have to be 18 or older to by cold medicine now.  Because they younger kids are getting high off of it.  No shit, how else are you supposed to forget about your horrible sinus pain and hacking cough.

It is a conspiracy people….  And I don’t like it…..

Bowling Injury

Last night I gave my staff the option to choose what they wanted to do during our staff meeting.  They wanted to go bowling.  I haven’t been bowling in a while and I was shocked that a.) there were so many teenage parents with their YOUNG CHILDREN AT THE BOWLING ALLY AT 10 pm on a school night and b.) how fucking expensive bowling has gotten.  Bowling is a sport for the lower middle class (according to one staff member’s sociology class.)  How does one game of bowling cost $8????

I got ripped off.

Anyway, I selected my bowling ball and got ready for my first crack and knocking over some pins.  As I released the bowling ball (more like hurled it down the lane) I felt something in my shoulder tear.  That’s right folks.  I am so damn old that I pulled my shoulder muscles while bowling.

All in all it was a fun evening.  I bowled a 42 and I got to listen to such great country classics as Shania Twain’s “Any Man of Mine.”  There are probably photos of this bowling adventure going on facebook as we speak.

I am going to be spending the day icing my shoulder while working.

Turning 30

I recently had a monumental birthday.  To celebrate this occasion, I was stupid enough to go to the doctor for my yearly physical.  I got the lecture on losing weight (see the previous post — I joined a gym), drinking less caffeine, and vitamins.  Now, I am not really a vitamin person, but I really try to take my vitamins whenever I remember to dig the bottle out of the cabinet.  However, I was not prepared for the two additional supplements that my doctor insisted that I start taking because I AM GETTING OLDER.  First up was additional calcium with Vitamin D.  This made sense, as bone health is important and according to the doctor most of the people living in my state are Vitamin D deficient due to the shortened sunlight in the winter months.  However, I was not prepared to be told that I would also need to start taking a FIBER SUPPLEMENT!  Fiber is for old people.  I am not old BUT I NEED TO TAKE FIBER!?!?!?!  The reason that I need to take fiber pills is because of all of my old lady colitis.  The doctor warned me to ease on to the fiber.  Too much too soon would be a bad thing for the old colon.  However, she said that for the first month that I was taking extra fiber I would get really bloated and crap more often.

Well, she didn’t say “crap more often” she said, I would have “more frequent bowel movements.”  All I know is that I am just taking one of the three recommended Benefiber tablets a day and I am shitting like a goose. (There was no way I was going to mix up a Metemucil shit shake so I am bucking up and paying extra for fiber tablets.)

Growing older sucks.  Fiber and vitamins suck too.

Joining the Gym

After avoiding exercises for as long as possible, I have finally joined a gym.  I have not really worked out since before grad school and I figured, one masters degree, two children and 50 lingering pounds were good reasons to get back on the old elliptical machine.

A few years ago I joined Curves for Women and I didn’t really enjoy it that much.  But, month after month, I paid my fat tax while avoiding Curves like the plague.  I finally canceled my membership after I added up the amount of money I was wasting on my membership.

Sooooo, off to the gym it was for me today.  (I really only went to escape the craziness of my two toddlers.)  I picked up my membership card and free tshirt at the desk and I was off to the elliptical machine.  I lasted about 8 minutes before I wanted to die.  I decided that I needed to get off and get off fast before passing out.  I went over to the reclined bikes and spent 20 more minutes torturing myself for the last 5 years of gluttony.  By the time I was done, my legs were jello, and I could barely get off the bike.  I limped into the locker room, got my stuff and slithered out to the car.  I bypassed any arm or ab workouts because I figured my legs hurting me would be punishment enough.  My gym membership also come with free tanning and I was in so much pain, the thought of pumping ultraviolet light into my body was unappealing.  Sore and sunburned would be terrible, so maybe next week I will try out the tanning beds.

As I am sitting her typing, my legs are on fire.  I am such a weenie.  But I will triumph over the gym. I will go back tomorrow morning and I will overcome the pain.  The memory of the medicinal chocolate cake I ate tonight will help me get through the pain.

Shopping Trip

Dear Crazy Grocery Store Checker Lady,

Please, please, please don’t force the 14-year-old bag boy to take my 3 bags of groceries out to the car.  I know that he was dying to get away from your crazy ass for the 5 minutes it took him to walk me to my car, but I did not want his help, nor did I need it for 3 bags.  You made me look like the laziest suburban soccer mom ever.  And I resent you for that.

Also, I am not impressed when you scan my rewards card and force me to watch the savings add up on the register.  Please don’t ever make a big deal out of this again, or I will go mideval on your ass right there in the grocery store.

Please stay in the storeroom taking inventory of cereal boxes.  Where you belong.  Oh wait, did I say that outloud.

Sincerely,

A Loyal Shopper

Time Out Sucks

My yougest son, #2, has a love/hate relationship with time out.  He loves misbehaving in such a way that forces me to give him time out, yet he hates actually being in time out.  Case and point.  The other night at dinner, he climbed up on the table, picked up a handful of his dinner and threw it at me.  I immediately said, “NO #2!  No throwing food at mommy!”  He laughed, picked up some more food, and aimed at me again.  I jumped up, ran over to him, picked him up and declared that time out was in order.  Of course he freaked out, but what was I supposed to do?  The toddler was not going to get the best of me!  I hauled his little ass over to time out and told him to sit there.  He refused, but this was partially because, The Husband, and his older brother, #1, were laughing hysterically at our exchange.  Finally, after much frustration, threats of spanking, and lots of stern lecturing, I discovered the time out postion that works best for my little anarchist.  Standing in the corner.  Oh, the shame and the tourture of standing in the corner facing the wall!

I won the battle.  Who wins the war is still up for grabs.  For now, I am basking in the glory of my triumph!