tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5619510935610986512011-11-29T22:37:21.597-05:00Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.comBlogger1941100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-81240009399103842962011-11-29T17:39:00.003-05:002011-11-29T17:58:52.077-05:00

My boys aren't like the other kids.I recognize this fact and quite often, I embrace it.When the 'other kids' are taunting others, I am proud mine aren't involved. When the little girls are being catty, I am saying a little prayer that God gave me boys. When mine are spouting Beastie Boys lyrics and the other kids are looking on in complete confusion, I am beyond encouraged that I am raising boys

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-21234656803752045912011-11-08T08:53:00.002-05:002011-11-08T09:11:18.311-05:00

Last week, Dorkfish went grocery shopping. This isn't an 'out of the ordinary' thing for him, but he totally screwed it up this time...As with most husbands, if he can't readily find the specified item on the list, he attempts to convince me that the store no longer carries it. Example: "Hey, where are the chocolate chips for my cookies?" Him: "Yeah, they don't have any." Me: "Reeeeaaallllly....

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-67620560711697935182011-09-16T12:51:00.003-04:002011-09-16T13:15:49.986-04:00

So, I warned you guys that Mams was in town, so now y'all are expecting some hilarious posts full of Mamsisms...Today ain't that day.But she is involved...On Monday, Mams decided she wanted to go to our favorite little Mexican restaurant. Never needing my arm twisted for fat, salt and beer (the three most important food groups), I happily abliged. (Please note that the information inside the

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-20105415104283077542011-09-12T09:49:00.002-04:002011-09-12T10:01:17.123-04:00

Let me just start out by warning you, Mams is back.And she is FULL. OF. IT. this time....Just to give you an example, she was sitting with Dorkfish last night reminiscing when he interrupted her. "Yes, Mams, I know what you mean about how some people are just likable. A lot of people like me. I am a likable guy," he said smugly. Mams, without even pausing to ponder this statement said, "Well,

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-88583617237172410222011-09-08T10:11:00.003-04:002011-09-08T10:17:18.576-04:00

One of my girlfriends and her husband are both out of town on business. In a moment of desperation, she asked me to take care of her kids this evening until her flight gets in at midnight.Obviously she does not read my blog.Or anything I put on facebook...ANYWAY, so we had been joking about how I would have to clean the house for her kids since her daughter seems to prefer a neat and tidy house.

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-26215420496810862802011-08-05T12:23:00.002-04:002011-08-05T12:49:23.851-04:00

Dorkfish has been on a 4-10's schedule at work for over a year now. This means that instead of cramming 60 hours of work into five days, he now tries to do it in four. So naturally, he has felt compelled to go in on his 'Friday Off' to finish up the stuff he wasn't able to get finished in the 16 hours he worked every day for the last four days.(Work too much, maybe?!)Ahem.Now that the boys are

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-56764900882174047512011-07-19T18:12:00.005-04:002011-07-20T08:24:04.969-04:00

Dorkfish and I have had this running battle, argument, standoff about certain 'duties' around the house. I don't mind doing manly chores such as taking out the trash, fixing toilet leaks or mowing the grass. I typically do most of the cooking and I don't argue about cleaning up the mess after. But there are some things that I feel he can handle on his own. These include, but are not limited to,

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-35823919086184689592011-07-19T13:15:00.004-04:002011-07-19T13:31:33.348-04:00

Few things in life are more entertaining than listening to my grandmother tell a story. She can't tell a joke to save her life as she always forgets the punch line, but when it comes to a true, here's-how-it-all-went-down story...she's the master.Last week, my neighbor T-racy, My Beesh and I were privy to one of Mam's famous story telling sessions. We had been discussing pets, specifically cats,

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-52407088130840758032011-07-18T13:05:00.005-04:002011-07-18T15:09:50.909-04:00

Well, we did it. We all survived track out. My grandmother, Mams, made a guest appearance for a week here and that provided PLENTY of blog material... Honestly, my head is still spinning from some of those stories. But first, last week was Bonus's first week back at school. He is a big second grader; which apparently means he has to dress nicer than those white-trash kids in first grade. He

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-80322438840110983822011-06-21T14:06:00.003-04:002011-06-21T17:05:44.384-04:00

Week ONE of vacation:1. Humidifiers are not toys. a. Humidifiers can catch on fire for unexplained reasons. b. If the flames coming out of the humidifier don't burn you, the steam will. c. Please don't act surprised when mommy is upset because she had to run naked through the house to the sound of "MOMMY! THE HUMIDIFIER IS ON FIIIIIIRRRRREEE" and she arrived scared and angry. She was angry

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-3419921946198153002011-05-27T07:36:00.008-04:002011-05-27T08:52:41.077-04:00

Despite my initial concern that another puppy would increase my workload (IE potty training) exponentially, I simply had to have him. After all, who could pass up ANOTHER! SNUGLY! PUPPY!?! Welcome Flash! (Thunder, curled up behind him, is obviously happy with the new addition.)But I kinda forgot to let Dorkfish know that I was going to get the other one. I mean, he had already agreed that it

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-69609988029144687202011-05-18T09:45:00.009-04:002011-05-18T11:54:11.207-04:00

Out of all the puppies in the litter, I knew Thunder Pup was the perfect fit for us as soon as I saw his bent tail. Apparently, it was wrapped around his leg in the womb and the vertebrae in those two spots are completely twisted. His bent tail does nothing more than give him character and in my opinion, makes him a perfect addition to the quirky two and four leggers we have around here.Not long

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-26296650904490886382011-05-12T11:11:00.000-04:002011-05-13T16:25:26.384-04:00

After my mom passed away, I decided that the next dog we owned would be an Italian Greyhound. Mom had owned two and they were the best dogs. (Okay, one had health problems and the other preferred to potty inside.) But their dispositions and attitude and cuddlebility (totally a word, hush) was just perfect. This would be our next pet.I am a firm believer that there are too many homeless pets out

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-85986904345367886652011-05-10T09:29:00.002-04:002011-05-11T10:49:00.746-04:00

You know how organized, well-planned, REAL bloggers other bloggers do a GRAND! GIVEAWAY! or offer a SPECIAL! DEAL! for their 200th post?Yeah, I ain't them. And that's why you love me.So, my 200th post is going to be about sick kid crap from this week.But at least it will be funny...Remember last winter when the ENTIRE HOUSE contracted mono except Deuce? Yeah...we had a mono scare this week with

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-4573936918230420442011-05-06T13:52:00.003-04:002011-05-06T17:41:01.720-04:00

In a hilarious twist and a perfect ending to the 'tooth saga', Bonus brought home his Spring pictures yesterday.Let me just warn you, the apple doesn't fall far from the Dorkfish Tree...But he obviously was paying attention when I showed him how to hide the beaver teeth.

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-55922063096224806832011-05-04T14:51:00.003-04:002011-05-04T15:03:40.547-04:00

Yesterday, I was sitting at the gazeebo, waiting on Bonus' bus. One of my neighbors, who is also the boys Sunday school teacher, stopped by. Her: "Oh, did I tell you about Easter Sunday and what Deuce said?"(This always causes great fear, an overwhelming sense of dread and a teeny bit of nausea...)Me: (flinching) "Um....no? Do I really want to know, though?"Her: "Oh, yes! It was adorable!"She

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-2885341467449181292011-05-03T07:21:00.006-04:002011-05-03T09:40:04.242-04:00

We have finally hit the tooth-loosing stage in the Davis household and let me say, it's about damn time. Bonus was so proud when the first one came out and he got to experience the magic that is the tooth fairy. Well, until I screwed up and he found it in my drawer the next morning...While we're on the subject, this 'tooth fairy gifts' crap is something we all need to agree on. Giving your kid $5

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-58420791840025118822011-04-25T16:31:00.002-04:002011-04-26T10:20:39.342-04:00

I have to admit something. I came *this* close to screwing up Easter this year. In my defense, Deuce was off all last week and we went to the beach for two days. When we got home on Saturday, I ran to the store and fought all the other lazy-ass procrastinators for the last two bunnies. Sadly, even the boys noticed their baskets were pretty empty. However, I had succeeded in pulling it off another

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-40747658956963782632011-02-01T15:48:00.002-05:002011-02-01T15:56:57.450-05:00

In a rare Amo-moment, I am actually posting twice in one day.Simply because this is too funny to not post RIGHT. NOW.A couple weekends ago, some girlfriends and I got together and were discussing what age was it no longer appropriate to allow your male child see you naked. Unanimously, we all decided that the age was best determined by the individual child. Bonus is seven now, but he has never

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-2864155903069963672011-02-01T11:56:00.004-05:002011-02-01T12:25:26.285-05:00

So I'm sick again.Naturally.This time it would appear to be a sinus infection that my body can't quite fight as well as it should thanks to the mono. Before you say anything, I realize that you can't actually 'give' someone a sinus infection, so I am not attributing this one to Dorkfish. Well, not entirely. You see, I did find THIS in the cabinet last night when I thought I was going to DIE

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-55043551662442440252011-01-29T18:24:00.002-05:002011-01-29T18:28:38.790-05:00

Me: "So, Bonus, how did you do on your spelling test?"Bonus: "I did great! Got them ALL RIGHT!" *insert cheesy, fake smile*Me: "Oh, yeah? How do you spell 'four'?"Bonus: "F-O-W-R."Me: "Um, no."Bonus: "F-W-O-R?"Me: "Um....again, no."Bonus: "Yeah, I probably missed that one."

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-674442468334719162011-01-17T15:56:00.005-05:002011-01-17T16:50:05.860-05:00

Being stuck at home with mono has given me the opportunity to catch up on some things that I have been wanting to get around to for some time now. In one sense, this has been good, as I have been able to accomplish much more from a 'resting state' than one would assume. So I figured that some of you, who I may or may not have infected, would enjoy a list. You're welcome. Oh, and SORRY, in advance

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-87330527892702857662011-01-14T14:04:00.004-05:002011-01-14T14:23:26.849-05:00

Since it's Friday, I decided to make some peanut butter blossom cookies. (No, Friday has nothing to do with it, but it seems wrong to make cookies for no reason; so there.) Deuce loves helping out in the kitchen, even with his obvious aversion for food, so I was letting him and My Beesh unwrap the kisses.My Beesh lines up the kisses and asks, "Hey, Deuce, what is this?"Deuce takes a long, hard

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-32554354529237204632011-01-13T08:15:00.003-05:002011-01-13T17:06:49.560-05:00

Last night, we took the boys out to get some pizza. I don't believe I've ever mentioned it on here before, but Deuce is quite possibly the PICKIEST eater in. the. world. Despite my begging, pleading, threats and punishments, he won't even try a single bite of any food that he deems 'icky'. The term 'icky' appears to apply to just about any food, lately. Peanut butter is too 'icky' because of the

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-49951549688921262102011-01-12T20:08:00.002-05:002011-01-12T20:13:22.791-05:00

Guess what? I posted for the THIRD! DAY! IN! A! ROW!Yes, the sky is falling.But more importantly, this one ISN'T about mono or Dorkfish trying to kill me.My dear friend, Jenny, asked me to do a guest post on her blog called Great Little Stories. I was flattered since my stories are neither great nor little...but I guess she ran out of bloggers or something.So Go! Read! and while you're there,

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-1536857330205737782011-01-11T14:05:00.003-05:002011-01-11T14:43:12.678-05:00

Soooo....Bonus' doctor called today. (You know that's never good.) He said his test results came back and guess what?!Yeah, mono.Joy.Not that I was surprised or anything. In fact, that's the whole reason I INSISTED that they do the blood work even though he said he didn't have the 'classic symptoms' and was only doing it because I insisted.But I guess I'm a bad mom for making my kid go through

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-43987895106062767472011-01-10T13:13:00.002-05:002011-01-10T13:36:46.916-05:00

It's taken four and a half years, but I think I've finally found a useful purpose for Deuce.Yes, he is awesome at comedic relief. Just this morning he said, "Momma, I don't want to go to school anymore. I already know everything." When I asked exactly what he meant he said, "If you put a bottle of ketchup in water, it floats. See? Everything. I got it."How can one argue with that logic?He's also

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-55678462915513947152011-01-01T18:36:00.002-05:002011-01-01T19:30:17.024-05:00

I have spent the last NINE days in a supine position with the silly assumption that 'I can't possibly feel any worse.' Amazingly, it is possible to feel immensely worse every time you wake up... (I have to say, Mr. Mononucleosis is a bastard. Yes, I did give him a proper name as I feel confident that he is not one to upset.) On the rare occasion I feel as if I can tackle some simple task such as

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-30863866265768874812010-12-26T22:47:00.002-05:002010-12-26T23:19:09.112-05:00

Last month, I told you about Dorkfish trying to 'off me'. It started out as a joke; a bit of a 'har-har' but the gloves have come off. I believe we are in full-on WATCH. YOUR. BACK. mode now.He has been on vacation for the past two weeks and has been happily pointing out how effortlessly he keeps the house clean, puts food on the table, entertains the kids, and is now befriending my neighborhood

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-84082117666051570882010-12-10T09:37:00.002-05:002010-12-10T09:45:05.222-05:00

Conversation with My Bitch last week:Me: "So, my bank is forcing us to switch to Master Card."My Bitch: "And..."Me: "I really don't want to switch; I like Visa. Not to mention, Master Card isn't accepted everywhere."My Bitch: "Like where? Where do you go that doesn't accept it?"Me: (Trying to think up a quick example.) "Well, you know, like the Dollar Tree. They don't accept Master Card."My Bitch

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-49849287869700069362010-12-08T20:31:00.003-05:002010-12-08T21:01:15.595-05:00

At the end of every day is this time I lovingly call, "The Witching Hour". It comes after dinner and before bed and is characterized by my sons acting as if they were possessed. Generally there are ridiculous fights, an ungodly amount of screaming and it ends with me threatening to run away from home. Last night was no different. They boys are in the tub and I had resigned myself to just mop up

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-56105773272499944402010-11-15T09:11:00.003-05:002010-11-15T11:31:17.116-05:00

Lately, I've been getting the sinking sensation that Dorkfish is trying to 'off' me. It's nothing big, like changing a life insurance policy or anything, but it's the subtle things that I am finally noticing. Small, incidental things such as leaving the glass shower door open, so when I get up in the middle of night to pee, I run into it. 'Misplacing' my wine bottle opener so I am forced to use a

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-79206331288776597472010-10-31T15:11:00.002-04:002010-10-31T15:39:27.022-04:00

I've always had a fond appreciation for listening tentatively to the stories of previous generations. I feel strongly that to be a good steward, we must record these stories to pass on to future generations for the purpose of learning valuable lessons from our wise ancestors.It is because of this obligation that I am sharing this family story with you now. But if you know my grandmother, don't

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-68085500814961819632010-10-30T07:00:00.005-04:002010-10-30T08:32:23.211-04:00

On Thursday, I told you about Bonus' little 'incident' in the cafeteria and how they apparently don't take kindly to the deafening sound that is made by crushing a milk carton in the cafeteria.Seriously, they should live with him. That. Is. Nothing.His teacher had already warned me that he hadn't returned the Here's-How-Screwed-Up-Your-Child-Is note, so I was completely prepared when he got off

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-88585263253234857002010-10-28T16:37:00.005-04:002010-10-28T17:58:08.772-04:00

First grade has brought with it a few challenges to say the least. We've had a lot of new 'slams' thrown toward Deuce, some fancy eye-rolling when asked to do something and a frightening amount of lying. Considering Bonus received the Integrity Award last year for being the ONLY child in class to never tell a lie, this is quite a disheartening change. I realize every kid lies. I know I tried to

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-66049071862894422952010-10-26T05:16:00.002-04:002010-10-26T05:40:49.815-04:00

About a month ago, Dorkfish sent me an email and in it, he spelled 'damn' as 'damb'. Being the astute journalist I am, (snort) I picked up on it immediately but decided it was because the 'bad word' filter at work was too stringent. (Yes, I completely made up this scenario to put my mind at ease over his typo.)Then he did it again.And again.Finally, after the third 'damb' I asked him over dinner

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-81800633060141556102010-10-17T14:03:00.006-04:002010-10-17T14:33:56.172-04:00

It would seem that I have a complete mental block on most school-related urgencies in regard to my children. (You may remember a few months ago, we had the where-in-the-hell-does-all-your-lunch-money-go epiphany.) Yes, I thought you might...Well now Deuce has started preschool and it would seem that my complete lack of regard for all things date related applies to his preschool as well.On Friday,

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-44183512224726431542010-10-13T09:59:00.003-04:002010-10-13T10:21:45.820-04:00

This morning's pee was interrupted by the sound of blood-curdling screams coming from the driveway. Barely getting my pants back up and not bothering with the button, I sprinted out back to exactly what I expected to find. Deuce had gotten in the fire ant nest for the THIRD DAY IN A ROW and had already received four bites. Coming to the rescue was Bonus...with a water hose. Because apparently

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-58670580862763901922010-10-09T11:43:00.005-04:002010-10-09T12:50:38.771-04:00

I woke up yesterday morning and my first thought, which is generally, "What was that thud?!" was instead, "Two years ago today was the last time I spoke to you." I have to admit, that might be the worst wake-up I've ever experienced. I guess I had assumed that the first year without you would be the hardest, but it would appear that this two-year anniversary of ours is proving to be the most

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-75429637822795154492010-08-22T18:53:00.003-04:002010-08-22T19:04:25.963-04:00

Setting: The kitchen. I'm cutting an apple as Deuce aka "Coopy" starts his 20-questions routine for the evening.Deuce: "Momma, how does a hot air balloon go the direction you want it to go?"Me: "Do you know what altitude means?"Deuce: "No."Me: "At different heights, or altitudes, the winds go in different directions. When you're flying the balloon, you can sometimes ascend, or go up, and go in

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-70091923658641897632010-08-16T22:30:00.003-04:002010-08-18T19:59:59.744-04:00

A few months ago, Deuce "officially" changed his name to "Coopy". No, he doesn't play with any kids named Cooper or saw it on TV. He chose to name himself "Coopy the turtle" because that is what he wanted to do and when a four year old sets his mind to something...well, you know the drift.At first it was kind of funny. We'd all joke and laugh about "Coopy" doing this funny little thing or he'd be

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-35417556520611170572010-08-08T18:35:00.002-04:002010-08-08T18:48:20.051-04:00

The past two weeks have been crazy busy with two trips to Tennessee, a wedding in Maine, several dog fights between the boys (and some neighbors) and a few hilarious one-liners from my famous-only-on-my-blog-that-she-doesn't-know-about-because-she-doesn't-get-the-internet(s) grandmother. (Yes, it's plural to her. Hush.)However, while I'm writing all that up and adding PHOTOS!, I thought I would

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-56010222259542290332010-07-22T10:08:00.003-04:002010-07-22T22:09:16.368-04:00

We're finishing up our second week of first grade and so far I have to admit that I think we may survive it.Maybe.We've finally solved the great "Where the hell is all your lunch money going?!" mystery from kindergarten. Bonus came home one afternoon and said, "Momma, why haven't you ever made me sausage on a stick wrapped with a pancake?!"Me: "Because I care about your arteries. Where did you

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-66326424903663785022010-07-15T05:22:00.003-04:002010-07-15T06:35:00.051-04:00

Last month, my neighborhood book club read Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight: An African Childhood by Alexandra Fuller. I had a busy month and had missed the previous meeting, so I hadn't read the book. I went to the meeting regardless because I wanted back in the loop (and let's be frank, it's an opportunity to have some adult conversation with some well-educated women, rather than the usual

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-59529846005353545222010-07-10T10:50:00.004-04:002010-07-10T11:04:24.903-04:00

Bonus' first day of first grade was Friday. In anticipation of this BIG! DAY!, I had asked him what he wanted to do all week so that we could spend the day before focused on doing whatever he wanted to do on his last day of being a 'little boy'."I want to make Jello and do something that doesn't suck."*blink, blink*So I took him to the planetarium and bought him gelato. What?! He's a smart kid.

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-36038386689877748512010-06-24T11:20:00.011-04:002010-06-25T11:21:29.645-04:00

Last week Dorkfish was on vacation. Typically, our vacations involve a trip SOMEWHERE, ANYWHERE and we play hard, barely sleep and return home absolutely exhausted and thankful to still be speaking to one another after a week straight of me yelling at all three of them.Naturally.This time, we decided to stay home and save some money as the Mazda hasn't sold yet. (As an aside, who isn't waiting

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-47100211952508793222010-06-17T22:45:00.002-04:002010-06-17T23:09:21.797-04:00

Dear Bonus, I was more proud of you today than I have been in a long time. Today, you showed us your compassionate side while standing up for your beliefs. It took a lot of strength to tell that older kid he was doing the wrong thing and I am proud of you for doing so. But just in case you don't remember what happened by the time I actually get the nerve to tell you about this blog, here's the

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-49544952689552474692010-06-14T13:38:00.006-04:002010-06-14T23:06:09.094-04:00

Every couple of years, Dorkfish decides to reinvent the wheel, and by 'reinvent the wheel, I mean grow his hair out until it gets Jon-Baker big: and it stays like this until he gets tired of it and gets a flat top. Generally, this period coincides with him being stressed at work and needing some sort of adventure. (He doesn't grow well under florescent lighting.) He has always done well with

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-51995774803943239012010-06-09T09:08:00.004-04:002010-06-09T09:38:44.160-04:00

Yesterday, Bonus completed his first year of school. He has officially finished kindergarten. Aside from a few 'punching Jack in the junk' issues, it went reasonably well. He finished at or above grade level in every area with the exception of one. Apparently he is above a first grade level with creative writing.Weird.The perk to our school system is that it is year-round. Meaning, that he is in

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-41383542192086481572010-06-07T21:09:00.005-04:002010-06-07T21:56:46.697-04:00

Disclaimer: This post is an update on my last post. It will make absolutely no sense if you haven't read (and possibly re-read) the last post. Also, "NPC" means "Not a Porn Convention". That will save you some time. You're welcome.So.....Biscuit Fest (NPC).......Where do I begin.....Let me give you the back story by saying that I feel pretty certain that ever since Knoxville secured the 1982

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-42051642745960695982010-06-03T02:45:00.004-04:002010-06-03T04:29:51.948-04:00

Sometimes it takes moving from a place to realize how much of it has become you. You can live your entire life in one location and never know how the people or the place has impacted you or shaped your personality until you leave. You find that you are taking with you much more than you had anticipated and you treasure those memories, the people, the places and how you have been shaped by

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-64259123276965427672010-04-27T09:49:00.001-04:002010-04-27T09:49:47.037-04:00

I've noticed more recently that parenting is full of those 'duh' moments. Originally, I assumed it was because I didn't have my mom around to teach me the 'here's-how-it-works-as-a-mom' sorts of things. (Although, looking back on it, I distinctly remember a time when I ran to the store and left Bonus, who was about three months old, with my mother. Upon returning, I walked in as she was trying to

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-92086447102797308212010-04-25T17:00:00.003-04:002010-04-25T17:10:58.899-04:00

Deuce finally made it to four and we've always had a 'birthday week' rule around this house. (More specifically, my father spoiled me by insisting we celebrate the week leading up to my birthday and so now I not only expect it from others, but have passed this narcissism on to my children. I love you, dad!)Unfortunately, this is one mandate that Dorkfish has refused to acknowledge. So we keep it

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-54903381631512044052010-04-21T14:48:00.003-04:002010-04-21T14:59:32.958-04:00

Today Deuce and I went shopping. He was okay with it for the first few minutes, but by the time I had him carrying around swimsuits in Banana Republic, the demasculinizing had set in..."Momma, I don't wanna carry your panties any more.""Deuce, those aren't 'panties'. It's a swim suit.""Whatever they are, I'm tired of carrying them." And he began hanging them from every mannequin in the store...It

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-60976816061975835972010-03-29T17:33:00.002-04:002010-03-29T22:13:45.872-04:00

After the Great Mams Adventure where she came to visit and was stuck here for a month, she finally volunteered to return. Yes, I fully took advantage of her senility and never mentioned it had only been a couple of weeks since I had taken her home. Hush. However, once we got to Tennessee, Mams decided she would just enjoy our visit there and not return back to North Carolina after all.

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-44736153236844711762010-03-27T12:57:00.001-04:002010-03-27T12:59:43.956-04:00

Bonus finally lost his first tooth.Well, technically, he didn't "loose it" so much as I convinced him that my friend Carrie was a dentist and therefore was fully trained on the fine art of tooth removal.He did look a little concerned when she shoved a paper towel in his mouth and considering she had just been holding rabbits in the back of her pickup truck, I didn't blame the kid. (Yes, I miss my

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-12827820913516201432010-02-13T17:25:00.001-05:002010-02-13T17:32:39.628-05:00

Straight out of The Never-Ending Vacation, my grandmother is here for yet ANOTHER week. This weekend it snowed for the third weekend in a row in a city that rarely sees any of the white stuff. Not only is she insisting that she will never return in any cold season, she's pretty convinced that this might be a sign of the apocalypse. (And she says she's being punished for some bad deeds of which

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-57038594811258027552010-02-11T10:15:00.002-05:002010-02-11T10:21:38.228-05:00

Two days ago, I woke up with an incredible soreness in my gums, behind all my teeth. After consulting Dr. Dorkfish who diagnosed it as eating soup that was too hot the night before, I inspected them in the bathroom mirror. Just a little redness, nothing serious. The next day, they're worse. And there were red and white patches. And I started feeling achy. (Just to clarify, I've never even

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-46147489089758560852010-02-04T17:56:00.002-05:002010-02-04T18:07:11.512-05:00

Thanks to the Great Snow Storm of 2010, mams has stayed an extra week with us. She wasn't exactly pleased with this plan, but never the less, she's here. This weekend, they are predicting MORE SNOW! FREEZING RAIN! AND ICE! To an 84-year-old woman this is like a run in her favorite panty-hose on the way to church... completely unacceptable and a true sin. Today, I fully planned to rush her

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-59574295191078468632010-02-02T10:22:00.001-05:002010-02-02T10:22:54.505-05:00

In only the second time since I've lived here in North Carolina, we got a decent-sized snow storm. It wasn't quite the snopocolypse that everyone on twitter was forecasting, but the inch of ice made the seven inches of snow a bit more treacherous. I was pretty excited as this forced my grandmother to stay another week. She, on the other hand, was none too pleased to be stuck here. Despite my

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-26780981594052887302010-01-30T19:52:00.003-05:002010-01-30T20:10:54.814-05:00

Last Saturday, I went on my epic journey to bring my grandmother here to visit for a week. She was chomping at the bit to get home by Tuesday. Fortunately, Mother Nature had other plans and dumped five inches of snow and an inch of ice on our little town today. Mams, though not pleased, decided it was in everyone's best interest if we didn't go skidding of the side of a mountain driving back

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-42781013383798467382010-01-24T20:45:00.002-05:002010-01-24T21:19:40.546-05:00

Yesterday morning, I woke up with the great idea to get my grandmother over here for a week. I haven't seen her since Christmas and she complains DAILY that the boys will grow up and never know her/the neighbors see her boys more than she does/we never call anymore and every time she goes a day without a phone call she just KNOWS it's because something bad happened and I don't want her to know. (

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-1128940771680013612010-01-17T09:22:00.004-05:002010-01-17T09:37:23.395-05:00

I am realizing fully why God made women able to put their own illnesses aside to take care of their family. In times of need, we mom's are able to put aside our own aches, pains, sinus infections and annoyance with the fact that the Christmas tree is still standing AND LIT UP, ahem, to make sure that our patients are comfortable and without want. But occasionally, we have to leave a few tasks up

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-68497020684587926052010-01-16T15:14:00.001-05:002010-01-16T15:14:01.593-05:00

Bonus started back to school on Monday. (It was all I could do to not end that sentence with "!!!!1!!!!11!!!!!") Seriously, once you have tasted the beauty that is your child being gone all day to school without you having to pay out the ass for it and thus feeling guilty that you're not being productive...yeah, it's a beautiful thing. He was sick by Wednesday. Sigh. It was Deuce that was

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-53494983865242457642010-01-13T18:48:00.003-05:002010-01-13T20:11:10.741-05:00

I completely realize how horribly I've neglected you wonderful followers and for that I'm terribly sorry. In fact, I love you so much I refuse to recap each and every day with an enormously long post about my whereabouts. Instead, I'll give you the quick and dirty... (But it will still be enormously long simply because it's been too damn long.) ~ Thanksgiving was a good time; the whiskey

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-56757606622981432532009-12-17T11:10:00.002-05:002009-12-17T11:14:11.232-05:00

Florida Trans-Am hair predicts 100% humidity.Also wants to know if you've got a light.Snort.*Be back soon!*~ Amo

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-17247291647600838012009-11-25T07:05:00.002-05:002009-11-25T07:10:44.170-05:00

The most difficult part about writing has nothing to do with putting words down. It's not stringing sentences together or painting a picture. It's not even finding something worthwhile to say. The part I find completely crippling is when you have a story to tell and cannot write anything else until it's finished. It is absolutely paralyzing to know that you cannot put another word on paper,

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-70143775983449494332009-11-17T09:53:00.001-05:002009-11-17T10:00:23.361-05:00

The past four months have been burdened with a barrage of medical tests and unimaginable stress. Ultimately, I told myself I was going to be fine, but the internal strife was overwhelming at times. The annoyance of the unknown welled up inside me. The urge to scream became overpowering, but silently, so as to not draw attention. Tears of anger that I was enduring this at a time when I was so

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-32045147232058883142009-11-12T21:08:00.002-05:002009-11-12T21:09:03.450-05:00

Well that was a good time... Last week, I went in for an angiogram only to have it canceled because their table broke. (For the record, I had not even made it to the table when it broke, so hush.) They rescheduled me for Tuesday, but called Monday evening to cancel me again. Considering I didn't really want to go through with this in the first place, and there was that whole 'allergic reaction

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-37786622142392789742009-11-05T19:53:00.001-05:002009-11-05T19:53:29.955-05:00

Today I had to go in for an angiogram to try and figure out why I hear my heartbeat in my left ear. Now mind you, I don't really care that this occurs unless it wakes me up. Otherwise, meh, at least I know it's still beating. Right? If you're a neurologist, the obvious answer to that question is no, apparently. After numerous MRI's, a CT, hearing and vision tests, I drew the short straw and was

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-45656156403836572702009-10-25T09:45:00.003-04:002009-10-25T09:55:57.339-04:00

Dear Dorkfish, We've survived two weeks of you being away for work. I won't kid you, it's been difficult. The boys haven't felt well the entire time, I'm exhausted and needing a break, and the dog is super pissed that you aren't walking her first thing in the morning and letting her poop on other people's yards. The neighbor's appreciate that part, though. I've been telling myself that it's

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-62193191469346640652009-10-24T10:42:00.001-04:002009-10-24T10:42:00.285-04:00

Deuce just walked in the kitchen as I'm desperately attempting to get the coffee into the cup while managing a sinus headache the size of China and announced, "If you don't get me a fruit rollup, I'm gonna smack you in the face." So I sent him to his room. He cried his broken-hearted, I-don't-have-a-friend-in-the-world-and-everyone-hates-me cry for about five minutes. Sniffling, he quietly

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-78572136088853263662009-10-19T23:22:00.001-04:002009-10-19T23:22:54.387-04:00

A year ago, it was done. You were officially gone from this earth forever. I honestly cannot believe it's been a year. Some days it feels like only a few weeks and other days it feels like a lifetime has passed. In reality though, a lifetime has passed. When you left me, us, this place, you took away a large part of me. Your death left a hole that I could not have dreamed would surface. I had

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-40614519023493568002009-10-05T14:40:00.001-04:002009-10-05T14:40:28.019-04:00

Last weekend, Dorkfish and I decided to take the boys to the beach for the day. Okay, actually, he decided we were all going to the beach and forced me to put away my laptop and GET IN THE DAMN CAR ALREADY. So off we went. There was fighting, screaming, gnashing of teeth, threats of pulling the car over and empty promises made for being quiet for FIVE WHOLE MINUTES! It was a good time. The

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-13934455350657211312009-10-02T09:42:00.003-04:002009-10-02T09:49:32.937-04:00

After much begging, my dear friend Rachel let me guest post on her blog. She's a food blogger, but it's a post about boobs.Go figure.Go read it, laugh, post a comment and support the boobs.It would make your momma proud.

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-47644146532865464542009-09-30T08:53:00.002-04:002009-09-30T08:57:18.895-04:00

There are some things you should never have to say to your children. That title? I said that yesterday.Twice.To both of my sons.And have forever scarred the neighbor's precious little girl who despite having an older brother, has never seen a boy drop it and whiz in public.Truthfully, I was secretly proud that he knew to use the bushes instead of the middle of the yard like he usually does. (

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-43489965969083597272009-09-18T14:21:00.001-04:002009-09-18T14:21:57.724-04:00

Today was yet another test-filled adventure day! Apparently, the neurologist is a bit more concerned about the heartbeat sound in my ear than I am. Truthfully, it's been there for two years now and I use it as a measure to determine my stress level. To be quite honest, having your heart beating in one ear and the other one making you dizzy, it's like a really bad date...possibly one involving

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-45311659038223104312009-09-14T14:53:00.002-04:002009-09-14T15:03:07.299-04:00

Deuce has always been the one to make the strangest correlations, but the past two days he has truly surpassed all the others.Deuce: "Momma, I finished my nap."Me: "Um, why are you naked?"Deuce: "Because my bed was wet."Me: "You peed your bed?"Deuce: "I don't know. I was asleep and it got peed on."Me: "Okay, go take your sheets off and I'll get you some shorts."Deuce: "I WILL NEVER DO THAT. I

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-44756322824211414372009-09-10T17:39:00.002-04:002009-09-10T17:41:32.069-04:00

It's not often that I share my domestic goddess side in this space. After all, no one comes here to feel inferior for their own lack of cleaning abilities. Parenting, yes. ::Snort:: But seriously, it's generally not me who keeps this place in tip-top shape. After all, I've got you guys to think about. Where would you get your daily weekly dose of funny if I was too busy scrubbing the shower?!

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-89655209319441145862009-09-08T09:52:00.001-04:002009-09-08T09:52:54.381-04:00

Every morning I get a 'good morning' email from Dorkfish since he leaves for work at that 'if you wake me, I'll put arsenic in your soup' hour of the morning. This morning, he was late. I emailed him and got this as a reply: Dorkfish: Took Molly for a walk this morning. She pooped three times and I didn’t have a bag…once across from Scott’s driveway, once in empty lot 137 in phase 2 and once in

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-23700664367313810552009-09-03T17:05:00.002-04:002009-09-03T17:09:47.262-04:00

You make them walk the plank.No, I am not joking here. I spent an hour at the physical therapists office today learning how to train my brain to recognize that my ear is jacked.I wish I was kidding.Basically, these exercises consist of sobriety tests such as standing with one foot in front of the other with your eyes closed. Easy, right? I fell over almost immediately. In another one, I stare at

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-76221327890714612022009-09-02T12:20:00.003-04:002009-09-03T11:51:49.574-04:00

Remember when I told you all about Deuce's little "slip on a hotwheels car" that ended with him in a full leg cast? Maybe you remember me mentioning that he's STILL LIMPING? Yeah, so I got a second opinion from CARY ORTHOPAEDICS a place I won't mention on here so I don't trash the reputation of their DR. ANDERSEN unnamed physician. This DR.ANDERSEN unnamed physician came *this close* to

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-71827796368917472462009-08-30T15:40:00.001-04:002009-08-30T15:42:51.540-04:00

In July, Bonus started kindergarten. To put it nicely, it's been the biggest pain in my ass ever since. It's not the getting him to school, picking him up, packing the dreaded lunches every damn day or the report cards. None of that has pushed me into the liquor cabinet...yet. It's the attitude. My neighbor calls it, "Kindergarten Ugly" and describes it as that little bit of ugly that each

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-56205744104074223722009-08-28T10:19:00.002-04:002009-08-28T10:23:18.845-04:00

We are on the verge of what has become the widely-anticipated grand finale of 'What the Hell is Wrong with Amo'. We have ruled out a brain tumor, aneurysm and now earwigs. Which is good news. In other better-than-good-news-and-probably-close-to-FREAKING-AWESOME-NEWS, the ear doctor figured out my dizziness finally! Normally, I'd cut to the chase and slam down the diagnosis for all of you...

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-7489206736895530142009-08-20T16:40:00.003-04:002009-08-20T19:33:22.260-04:00

Today we were told that my MRI looked good. My brain is apparently in perfect, working order. We all know better. So that's the good news.The bad news? Those DARE bastards were lying. Next up is the VNG (a test where they simulate vertigo) and a hearing test. This should be entertaining at least...

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-44018223612578657642009-08-18T15:45:00.001-04:002009-08-18T15:45:11.820-04:00

How was the MRI, you ask? Well, if you ever have to go have one, I suggest putting a stew pot over your head and have a friend beat it with a metal spoon. Incidentally, if you are going to slam your head on the bottom of a cabinet in a restroom, you should do it before the MRI, so they can look for the brain bleed. (P.S. Those stars you saw? They weren't real, nor are they a good sign.) Also,

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-10283375350216107302009-08-16T13:39:00.001-04:002009-08-16T13:39:56.395-04:00

Telling Bonus that if he doesn't learn to tie his shoes soon, he's going to be living in my basement until he's 35, probably wasn't a good confidence-instiller for a five year old. Promising him that we would still feed him until we move off without telling him was what I like to think of as 'being a better parent'. Screaming F*CK when Deuce slammed his cast on my bare toes may not have been

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-32200425394262137872009-08-14T14:35:00.003-04:002009-08-14T14:50:00.961-04:00

So yesterday was a good time. I wish I could have taken all you guys with me and you could have sat in the waiting room receiving text messages like the one's I sent Jennifer:"After two vision tests, I can't tell which eye is blurry anymore. But the head hurts ALL OVER, so that's a win, right?"(That text may have ended with some obscene language, but we'll pretend I don't cuss when nervous.)Maybe

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-26943310087929042272009-08-12T21:14:00.002-04:002009-08-12T21:26:07.392-04:00

Today the funny returns. I know, I know, it's been a bit depressing as hell less funny than usual around here lately. I've made you all cry with my letter to Deuce and my anniversary post. In fact, I'm surprised anyone is still here! Wait, you're here, right? Today, we will laugh at leg casts, strep throat and brain tumors! HAHAHAHA HaHaHaHa hahahaha....ug. Shoot me. So, yesterday was my

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-61030702365403807622009-08-11T12:28:00.002-04:002009-08-11T12:31:36.481-04:00

Eight years ago today, I was an hour and a half late to see you. You still tease me about that, but I know you will always be there waiting. You skydived into the church but I wasn't there to see it. It was the first time that I hadn't been waiting on you to land. I have learned that I don't always have to be there for everything to be copacetic. It rained that day. Actually, it poured just as

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-23937495170089389122009-08-07T15:14:00.001-04:002009-08-07T15:14:16.688-04:00

I look down at your precious sleeping head, those rose-bud shaped lips that occasionally still suckle in their sleep, and I remembered. She always told me I had rosebud shaped lips. I look at the way your blonde locks fall on each side of your perfectly-smooth baby skin. It is like ropes of gold. She used to braid my hair back and tell me how beautiful my golden rope was. I brush the

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-23791473979714945302009-08-06T13:19:00.002-04:002009-08-07T07:34:10.155-04:00

Wow. Look how long it's been since I posted. I am really a slacker, huh? Okay, in my defense, here's what has happened up until now. The first day of BlogHer, I woke up dizzy. Convinced it must have been something I drank (or drank too much of) the night before, I went on and enjoyed the conference. Throughout the trip, I kept telling my friends when I was feeling funny in case I died because

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-32405884053799702072009-08-02T07:14:00.002-04:002009-08-02T07:31:04.657-04:00

I've been holding off on posting after BlogHer to see what everyone else was saying. Each experience is unique as with any event and I always prefer to let something sit for a while before I write about it. (Yes, I'm a dork and no, I don't plagiarize. All this crap is really mine. I know, I'm sorry too.) Thanks to U.S. Air and the president, I was eight hours late to the first round of parties.

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-25488900147341063292009-07-21T21:18:00.002-04:002009-07-21T21:41:12.988-04:00

Lately, I've been working on my fat ass girly figure since I can no longer blame the extra twenty twenty pounds I've been carrying around as 'baby weight'. The 'baby' is over three years old. Ahem. So I tried on a pair of pants this morning that I've been hoarding in my closet for a few months (years) and I modeled them for two of my neighbors who insisted not only did the fit well, they

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-82551812560350383242009-07-17T21:45:00.003-04:002009-07-17T22:24:29.725-04:00

1. When your grandmother comes to visit and is offering up little parental advice gems such as 'if you don't dry his hair, he's going to wake up with a cold after sleeping under that ceiling fan' and you choose to ignore them...the child will, in fact, have a fever the next day.2. That fever? It's going to last for DAYS AND DAYS just so she can remind you every. single. day.3. The purchase of a

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-6143896504845789932009-07-15T07:02:00.000-04:002009-07-15T07:03:46.032-04:00

Me: "Bonus! Come put your pajamas on right now!"Bonus: "Momma, I can't! I'm limping."Me: "That's not limping, your dragging your foot."Bonus: "Oh. Then how do you limp?"*****Bonus: "That boy who's daddy owns the brewery? He told me he didn't care about my daddy."Me: "Really? That seems like an odd thing to say."Bonus: "Yeah, but it's okay. I threw him in the dirt for it."Me: "Dude! You can't

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-74020830040359570792009-07-12T21:55:00.008-04:002009-07-12T22:29:01.002-04:00

Little DiggersBig DiggerSandy NoseSandy ToesWashed AshoreWashed.....up ;)*Now go get lost at Lotus's place and check out the other weekly winners! (Don't forget to tell her who sent you. Heh.)

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-28345703738832137842009-07-11T08:37:00.011-04:002009-07-11T14:15:10.928-04:00

Bonus survived his first day of kindergarten, but the rest of the week is still up in the air. Here's the thing. You know how everyone warns you that 'the kid will be fine, you'll be crying', or 'he's going to be so excited and part of you will feel dead'...you know, helpful advice. What they left out was 'he's going to come home exhausted and be a jackass for the entire day, OH and next week...

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-19987349954292421582009-07-07T07:33:00.002-04:002009-07-07T07:36:43.352-04:00

"Are you okay with Wednesday?" Jae asked with more compassion in her voice than I felt was warranted. "If by 'okay' you are asking if I'm going to be skipping out of the school and whistling, then yes, I'm going to be okay, " I responded in all honesty. Bonus has his first day of kindergarten tomorrow. He's five now, and will tell you that he's 'busy' when you want a kissie or 'too tired' when

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-561951093561098651.post-50191400841287179732009-07-05T11:57:00.003-04:002009-07-06T09:02:08.398-04:00

Motivation to do something with these other than leave them in a random folder on my laptop courtesy of Lotus.

Amohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05406745191755932850noreply@blogger.com12