I awoke this morning to the sound of beer cans being rolled across my living room floor. Realizing this was not, in fact, a college flashback, I jumped out of bed and ran to the sound yelling, "Deuce! NO! That's alcohol abuse!"
When I entered the living room I found both Bonus and Deuce rolling cans across the floor to each other.
(Go ahead and stop wondering if the beer cans had anything to do with me being in bed still...they didn't and it was only 6:30 a.m.) You see, my father-in-law and brother-in-law had been visiting while I was in Nashville at Blissdom09 and I had returned to a bit of a 'bachelor pad'. (In case you've been following along, this is where I was embarrassing the family...)
I digress.
Much to my relief, the beer cans were still full. (Thank God! Can you imagine the mess if they had that little bit of backwash left! Ick.)
Upon further inspection, I realized that these were cans of Natty Ice that my brother-in-law had left behind.
My response?
"Roll, baby, roll." And I went back to bed.
You see, dear readers, this is why when my friend, Candice Stone tweeted about her cleaning business, I just had to share my desperate need for a house cleaner.
And I'm sure you would agree whole-heartedly.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
Why I don't deserve to be let out in public...and other embarrassing stories.
I just returned from Blissdom09 and let me tell you...I've learned A LOT. Those of you that follow me, okay, both of you, will be amazed at the upcoming changes to this little blue-back grounded, "It's-not-a-damn-pet-blog" site. Oh yes, you might even tell your friends that secretly you read my writing and not be embarrassed to admit it!
Maybe.
I hope, at least. Heh.
Anyway, I now know that not only am I a much smaller fish than I had realized, but the group of Big Fish that I had previously been worshiping is much, much larger than I knew. And some of them have said that they would be following me too...eek. So now, not only do I have to 'up the ante' so to speak, but really have to make this place look good.
And considering I've got mad skills...but none of them have to do with HTML...it's gonna be a long road. So I'm putting on my big girl panties and you're welcome to join me!
Just don't show me, cause mine are big enough.
........
Okay, first of all, anyone who was at Blissdom09 with me and saw me on Friday night AFTER the cocktail party; it was the new Rx and not the two drinks I had that caused me to act like that. And by that you pretty much have to insert your own experience with me. Cause honestly, I don't remember much of the night let alone what I said.
However.
I do remember getting on the elevator with the fabulous Jen Lancaster and bits and pieces of the conversation have slowly been returning. (When I honestly wish they wouldn't.)
First, I said, "Hey! You're Jen!" (As if she may have been suddenly stuck with amnesia or something.) Secondly, I remember saying, "I can't wait to read your new book in August!" To which the fabulous Jen Lancaster responded, "Um, actually, it comes out in May." Okay, total party foul, but it could have been excused had I not responded with, "Awwww, Man! I thought it was August!" (with much disappointment.) Apparently, in my medically-induced reality, August comes before May...who knew?! The rest of the elevator conversation is a mystery to me except for my parting line which was me stumbling off the elevator mumbling something about my son's stuffed frog. I'm not sure what I was saying, but I'm pretty sure that no one, including me, cared.
The next morning, I posted this on twitter, "Totally bombing intros #blissdom09. When did I become 'socially awkward'?! Anyone who saw me last night, it was new meds not the beer! Geez." This tweet not only showed me how many new followers I had by the number of people that approaced me saying, "Oh my gosh! What did you do?" but also by the sheer volume of bloggers who admitted having conversations with me...and I don't remember them.
Not to mention that the very awesome Poppy was along for the ride...sorry about that! Great intro, huh?! (And no, contrary to her post, Poppy did not have price tags -ala Minny Pearl- but she did have an amazing sense of humor and equally impressive personality.) -not to mention she was too kind to tell me what an ass I had made of myself in front of her dearest friend, the fabulous Jen Lancaster.
........
Yeah, I guess you could say I made a name for myself. If the embarrassment of the night didn't do it, the business cards may have...
For those of you that missed them, it was a beverage napkin with my blog site written on them and lipstick.
(The cheesy grin is added for effect...I have no explanation for the puffy shirt.) -photo courtesy of Jenny over here.
Apparently, when one goes to such functions, they are expected to bring a business card so that others will later remember their blog and follow them. Who knew?!
At least Tanis thought it was entertaining. She saved my card...in her bra.
........
Oh, and for those of you who know me and how I constantly recount my favorite posts from my favorite bloggers, you will understand my excitement on meeting Catherine! I did, however, make a dork out of myself by only being able to compliment her blog by telling her it makes me cry. I was actually trying to say that she is so thoughtful and stuff...which still sounds better in my head.
She did let me hold the precious Jasper, though! So either I didn't make a total ass out of myself, or she was desperate to eat lunch.
In typical FAIL fashion, I made him cry. Again, zero points for the dork fish. I can't even accomplish one simple task like keeping a baby happy for five minutes. (And I have done that TWICE...)
........
And then there was Saturday night. I spent most of the evening with Tara, who may or may not want to admit it so I'll leave her details out. I do remember the embarrassment that ensued. But I'm not willing to share all the gory details until they become less memorable. (And the headache fades.)
But I will admit that I thoroughly enjoyed the high-dollar cosmo that was purchased for me by a unnamed police officer who worked at an unnamed airport and meeting the famous Denny who's tagline was "Denny, like the restaurant."
No, I am not kidding. But I wish I was...
........
The previous evening may or may not have had anything to do with me missing my 8 a.m. flight.
But I'm pretty sure that the humiliation of loosing my fruitloops in the handicapped stall of the women's restroom at gate B9 taught me a lesson. Yes, I was kicking my own ass.
And if the handicapped woman who was waiting on said stall had not been bound to a wheelchair, I think she would have been too.
........
So, what have you, o beloved followers, learned from my experiences? (And please don't tell me if it's to stop following me!) If it is to stop following me...just keep it to yourselves. Mkay?!
Update: Just in case you are one of those followers who wonders, "What were her kids doing while she was writing all that?" Here you go:
Maybe.
I hope, at least. Heh.
Anyway, I now know that not only am I a much smaller fish than I had realized, but the group of Big Fish that I had previously been worshiping is much, much larger than I knew. And some of them have said that they would be following me too...eek. So now, not only do I have to 'up the ante' so to speak, but really have to make this place look good.
And considering I've got mad skills...but none of them have to do with HTML...it's gonna be a long road. So I'm putting on my big girl panties and you're welcome to join me!
Just don't show me, cause mine are big enough.
........
Okay, first of all, anyone who was at Blissdom09 with me and saw me on Friday night AFTER the cocktail party; it was the new Rx and not the two drinks I had that caused me to act like that. And by that you pretty much have to insert your own experience with me. Cause honestly, I don't remember much of the night let alone what I said.
However.
I do remember getting on the elevator with the fabulous Jen Lancaster and bits and pieces of the conversation have slowly been returning. (When I honestly wish they wouldn't.)
First, I said, "Hey! You're Jen!" (As if she may have been suddenly stuck with amnesia or something.) Secondly, I remember saying, "I can't wait to read your new book in August!" To which the fabulous Jen Lancaster responded, "Um, actually, it comes out in May." Okay, total party foul, but it could have been excused had I not responded with, "Awwww, Man! I thought it was August!" (with much disappointment.) Apparently, in my medically-induced reality, August comes before May...who knew?! The rest of the elevator conversation is a mystery to me except for my parting line which was me stumbling off the elevator mumbling something about my son's stuffed frog. I'm not sure what I was saying, but I'm pretty sure that no one, including me, cared.
The next morning, I posted this on twitter, "Totally bombing intros #blissdom09. When did I become 'socially awkward'?! Anyone who saw me last night, it was new meds not the beer! Geez." This tweet not only showed me how many new followers I had by the number of people that approaced me saying, "Oh my gosh! What did you do?" but also by the sheer volume of bloggers who admitted having conversations with me...and I don't remember them.
Not to mention that the very awesome Poppy was along for the ride...sorry about that! Great intro, huh?! (And no, contrary to her post, Poppy did not have price tags -ala Minny Pearl- but she did have an amazing sense of humor and equally impressive personality.) -not to mention she was too kind to tell me what an ass I had made of myself in front of her dearest friend, the fabulous Jen Lancaster.
........
Yeah, I guess you could say I made a name for myself. If the embarrassment of the night didn't do it, the business cards may have...
For those of you that missed them, it was a beverage napkin with my blog site written on them and lipstick.
(The cheesy grin is added for effect...I have no explanation for the puffy shirt.) -photo courtesy of Jenny over here.
Apparently, when one goes to such functions, they are expected to bring a business card so that others will later remember their blog and follow them. Who knew?!
At least Tanis thought it was entertaining. She saved my card...in her bra.
........
Oh, and for those of you who know me and how I constantly recount my favorite posts from my favorite bloggers, you will understand my excitement on meeting Catherine! I did, however, make a dork out of myself by only being able to compliment her blog by telling her it makes me cry. I was actually trying to say that she is so thoughtful and stuff...which still sounds better in my head.
She did let me hold the precious Jasper, though! So either I didn't make a total ass out of myself, or she was desperate to eat lunch.
In typical FAIL fashion, I made him cry. Again, zero points for the dork fish. I can't even accomplish one simple task like keeping a baby happy for five minutes. (And I have done that TWICE...)
........
And then there was Saturday night. I spent most of the evening with Tara, who may or may not want to admit it so I'll leave her details out. I do remember the embarrassment that ensued. But I'm not willing to share all the gory details until they become less memorable. (And the headache fades.)
But I will admit that I thoroughly enjoyed the high-dollar cosmo that was purchased for me by a unnamed police officer who worked at an unnamed airport and meeting the famous Denny who's tagline was "Denny, like the restaurant."
No, I am not kidding. But I wish I was...
........
The previous evening may or may not have had anything to do with me missing my 8 a.m. flight.
But I'm pretty sure that the humiliation of loosing my fruitloops in the handicapped stall of the women's restroom at gate B9 taught me a lesson. Yes, I was kicking my own ass.
And if the handicapped woman who was waiting on said stall had not been bound to a wheelchair, I think she would have been too.
........
So, what have you, o beloved followers, learned from my experiences? (And please don't tell me if it's to stop following me!) If it is to stop following me...just keep it to yourselves. Mkay?!
Update: Just in case you are one of those followers who wonders, "What were her kids doing while she was writing all that?" Here you go:
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Let Them Eat Cake
Every night the Big Dog has a few questions for us. At first, it was his stall tactic to keep from going to bed. But now, it's become a tradition and he seems to really enjoy it.
Just so you know, he doesn't ask easy ones. There has yet to be a "Why is the sky blue?" or a "How does grass grow?" Nope. Never an easy question.
Tonight's question was, "How does a heater work?"
"Well, that's an easy one, buddy. First, you plug it in and the power goes through the plug to the coils. The coils heat up and then the little fan sucks the air from the back side and blows it across the coils, heating them up, and thus blowing out hot air."
Feeling pretty confident with my response, I flashed him an overly cocky smile and a quick pat on the knee. Little did I know what would come next...
"No, momma. I know how all that works. My question is, HOW does the electricity heat up the coils?"
"Um...How about another cupcake?!"
Just so you know, he doesn't ask easy ones. There has yet to be a "Why is the sky blue?" or a "How does grass grow?" Nope. Never an easy question.
Tonight's question was, "How does a heater work?"
"Well, that's an easy one, buddy. First, you plug it in and the power goes through the plug to the coils. The coils heat up and then the little fan sucks the air from the back side and blows it across the coils, heating them up, and thus blowing out hot air."
Feeling pretty confident with my response, I flashed him an overly cocky smile and a quick pat on the knee. Little did I know what would come next...
"No, momma. I know how all that works. My question is, HOW does the electricity heat up the coils?"
"Um...How about another cupcake?!"
Monday, February 2, 2009
Groundhog Day....EVERYDAY
I know many stay-at-home mommies out there. In fact, I pride myself on learning their tricks for survival and using my own sarcastic twist to keep treading water in this inevitable downward spiral called parenthood; which I am certain will eventually lead to my sons writing books about me.
I just hope they make me sound pretty; cause dammit, I try.
Most days.
But years ago (5 to be exact) I came to this conclusion. Each day of parenthood brings with it new surprises such as cute new words, precious hugs and fleeting glimpses into the reality of how quickly each moment passes. I find myself starting sentences with, "It seems like only yesterday," while making a mental note to never ever sound like an 80-year-old Jewish grandmother again. I struggle to remember when they took their first steps, their first words and even their damn birthday when caught off guard by strangers.
In a nut shell, it's an awesome experience to be with them every second of the day and watch them transform from the most perfect baby in the world, to precocious little toddlers and handsome little preschoolers. I want to remember each and every little word, giggle and smile.
But give me a damn break. Tell me I'm not the only one trapped in a Groundhog-Day scenario.
Every morning it's the exact same thing.
"I want waffles! No, not your waffles, the frozen kind! And I want milk too! MIIILLLLKKKK! Can we watch cartoons now? Can we? Huh? Plllleeeeaaaassseee?! NO! I can't go back to bed! I already wiped the icky stuff from my eyes and that helps me sleep! MOMMA, he's got POOOOOOOP! Change him NOW! He smells BAAAAD! I won't play with him cause he STINKS! I know you were sleeping, but I'm awake and you should be too! It's time to get up, Momma! Remember, you have to make me waffles! No, I can't reach the toaster to do it myself! Momma, that's a bad word."
Every. Damn. Day.
That groundhog's got nothing on me. I see my shadow every morning...with two shadows in tow.
I just hope they make me sound pretty; cause dammit, I try.
Most days.
But years ago (5 to be exact) I came to this conclusion. Each day of parenthood brings with it new surprises such as cute new words, precious hugs and fleeting glimpses into the reality of how quickly each moment passes. I find myself starting sentences with, "It seems like only yesterday," while making a mental note to never ever sound like an 80-year-old Jewish grandmother again. I struggle to remember when they took their first steps, their first words and even their damn birthday when caught off guard by strangers.
In a nut shell, it's an awesome experience to be with them every second of the day and watch them transform from the most perfect baby in the world, to precocious little toddlers and handsome little preschoolers. I want to remember each and every little word, giggle and smile.
But give me a damn break. Tell me I'm not the only one trapped in a Groundhog-Day scenario.
Every morning it's the exact same thing.
"I want waffles! No, not your waffles, the frozen kind! And I want milk too! MIIILLLLKKKK! Can we watch cartoons now? Can we? Huh? Plllleeeeaaaassseee?! NO! I can't go back to bed! I already wiped the icky stuff from my eyes and that helps me sleep! MOMMA, he's got POOOOOOOP! Change him NOW! He smells BAAAAD! I won't play with him cause he STINKS! I know you were sleeping, but I'm awake and you should be too! It's time to get up, Momma! Remember, you have to make me waffles! No, I can't reach the toaster to do it myself! Momma, that's a bad word."
Every. Damn. Day.
That groundhog's got nothing on me. I see my shadow every morning...with two shadows in tow.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Had to be Said
Dear Admiral Title,
Did you really think that calling the mortgage company 18 hours prior to the closing to get the payoff was a good idea? I mean really? And does your totally incompetent staff not understand that if the number they are calling isn't working, they could use that fancy-pants internets thingy to look it up?! Even my grandmother knows that you can find anything on the internets. Ask her, I dare you.
Since when do we drag our feet on sending in the payoff? Hmmm? Let's see, these people are trying to sell a house in the worst economy since the Great Depression AND they are buying a home in another state in 14 days. Should we send it in now? The answer is YES. Hell Yes, even. Oh, and did I mention that when you drag your feet on sending in said payoff it causes the seller to incur a $70.81 late fee. (Of which they are planning on taking out of your behind should you not find it in your heart to refund it.) Please don't forget the power of bad publicity. Cause I fully intend to use it should this situation not be fixed.
With all due respect, I would highly suggest you get off your asses and do the job you are way overpaid to do.
Oh, and I had nothing to do with the flaming bag of dog poo. Molly is a bit upset herself.
Sincerely,
The Davis Family
Taylor, Bean & Whittaker, you're on notice. Just keep that in mind.
Did you really think that calling the mortgage company 18 hours prior to the closing to get the payoff was a good idea? I mean really? And does your totally incompetent staff not understand that if the number they are calling isn't working, they could use that fancy-pants internets thingy to look it up?! Even my grandmother knows that you can find anything on the internets. Ask her, I dare you.
Since when do we drag our feet on sending in the payoff? Hmmm? Let's see, these people are trying to sell a house in the worst economy since the Great Depression AND they are buying a home in another state in 14 days. Should we send it in now? The answer is YES. Hell Yes, even. Oh, and did I mention that when you drag your feet on sending in said payoff it causes the seller to incur a $70.81 late fee. (Of which they are planning on taking out of your behind should you not find it in your heart to refund it.) Please don't forget the power of bad publicity. Cause I fully intend to use it should this situation not be fixed.
With all due respect, I would highly suggest you get off your asses and do the job you are way overpaid to do.
Oh, and I had nothing to do with the flaming bag of dog poo. Molly is a bit upset herself.
Sincerely,
The Davis Family
Taylor, Bean & Whittaker, you're on notice. Just keep that in mind.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Bad (stuffed) Dog
The Big Dog has now brought on a whole new level of genius. He's got me reprimanding his stuffed animals. I'm not sure how I ended up here, but I'm pretty sure he's off somewhere snickering.
We're at a McDonald's birthday party for a friend's daughter. Big Dog decides to start playing siren. Sure, all the other kids are loud too, but his is a screechie kinda loud.
Me: Sweetie, it's a bit loud in here for you to be screeching.
Big Dog: Mommy, dat makes no sense. If it's woud, den I'm doing wite.
Me: Yes, I see your logic, but you're much too loud. Please stop with the siren.
Big Dog: But mommy, it's not me doing it. It's de toy puppy.
Me: Okay, well tell the toy puppy to stop it.
I walk off. "WOOO WOOOO WOOOO WOOOOO!!!"
Me: Dude. I told you to stop with the siren. Why are you still doing it?!
Big Dog: No, you told de puppy. He's in time out now and he's stopped. Dat time it was me.
Any suggestions out there?!
We're at a McDonald's birthday party for a friend's daughter. Big Dog decides to start playing siren. Sure, all the other kids are loud too, but his is a screechie kinda loud.
Me: Sweetie, it's a bit loud in here for you to be screeching.
Big Dog: Mommy, dat makes no sense. If it's woud, den I'm doing wite.
Me: Yes, I see your logic, but you're much too loud. Please stop with the siren.
Big Dog: But mommy, it's not me doing it. It's de toy puppy.
Me: Okay, well tell the toy puppy to stop it.
I walk off. "WOOO WOOOO WOOOO WOOOOO!!!"
Me: Dude. I told you to stop with the siren. Why are you still doing it?!
Big Dog: No, you told de puppy. He's in time out now and he's stopped. Dat time it was me.
Any suggestions out there?!
Monday, January 12, 2009
Lessons Learned in Yankee Country
After Christmas, we ventured above the Mason-Dixon line to visit the in laws. Over the past nine years, I have assimilated into their culture quite well. I have managed to lessen my 'southern drawl' and find urgency in every event. However, I have come to terms with the fact that I will never acclimate to their winters. And that is fine.
This trip was quite a shocker. The day we arrived, it was 60 degrees! I, being the thoughtful southern girl I am, had packed only puffy coats and wool socks. Poor planning, yes, but if you had said it would actually be WARM, I would have laughed at you. The coldest I have ever been was in Ohio.
Two days later...it was snowing. Yes, my friends, we woke to 4 inches of snow and a damn blizzard. (Okay, it was a blizzard by southern standards and a 'light dusting' according to the buckeyes.) Fortunately, I was prepared with my puffy coat and wool socks, but had somehow misplaced my long underwear in the move. Grrrr. (Again, damn movers.) I threw on every article of clothing I had packed plus my brother-in-law's flannel-lined pants and hit the snow. My little southern boys, whom we chose to call 'Bonitta' and 'Spurceann' the entire day, chose to ride in the heated golf cart rather than on the sled with their mother who had something to prove.
After all, one can only bitch about their nose freezing off for so long before someone calls you a 'big girl'. So I pulled up my big girl panties and hit the toboggan. (Which, by the way, is a HAT not a SLED. But this is apparently an argument for another day. -not to mention they definitely had the upper hand in the discussion since the damn sled actually said 'toboggan' on it.)
So, I hopped on the sled and hit the snow. And yes, we were being pulled by golf cart before you even ask. I will leave the rest to your imagination. But, the part no one mentioned is that while riding the 'toboggan' your cheeks will hang off the sides and freeze solid. (I refuse to consider that it might have just been my wide load that hangs off.) Never the less, it was numb and I was bitching while my little girlie boys were peering from the back window of the cart so toasty they had to remove their coats.
Jerks.
Five valuable lessons that I learned from this experience:
1. Never leave the warmth of the south without long underwear and a t-shirt.
2. When your ass cheeks freeze while riding a SLED, do not mention it as it will only draw attention to the size of your behind.
3. A frozen behind should not be placed directly in a 102 degree hot tub before thawing.
4. Do not try to carry on a conversation with a stranger in a waiting room. The assume you're nuts.
5. Do not thank said stranger for 'warming the seat for you' in the waiting room. They will still consider you nuts and do not care to hear your story about being from the south and how cold it is up here.
This trip was quite a shocker. The day we arrived, it was 60 degrees! I, being the thoughtful southern girl I am, had packed only puffy coats and wool socks. Poor planning, yes, but if you had said it would actually be WARM, I would have laughed at you. The coldest I have ever been was in Ohio.
Two days later...it was snowing. Yes, my friends, we woke to 4 inches of snow and a damn blizzard. (Okay, it was a blizzard by southern standards and a 'light dusting' according to the buckeyes.) Fortunately, I was prepared with my puffy coat and wool socks, but had somehow misplaced my long underwear in the move. Grrrr. (Again, damn movers.) I threw on every article of clothing I had packed plus my brother-in-law's flannel-lined pants and hit the snow. My little southern boys, whom we chose to call 'Bonitta' and 'Spurceann' the entire day, chose to ride in the heated golf cart rather than on the sled with their mother who had something to prove.
After all, one can only bitch about their nose freezing off for so long before someone calls you a 'big girl'. So I pulled up my big girl panties and hit the toboggan. (Which, by the way, is a HAT not a SLED. But this is apparently an argument for another day. -not to mention they definitely had the upper hand in the discussion since the damn sled actually said 'toboggan' on it.)
So, I hopped on the sled and hit the snow. And yes, we were being pulled by golf cart before you even ask. I will leave the rest to your imagination. But, the part no one mentioned is that while riding the 'toboggan' your cheeks will hang off the sides and freeze solid. (I refuse to consider that it might have just been my wide load that hangs off.) Never the less, it was numb and I was bitching while my little girlie boys were peering from the back window of the cart so toasty they had to remove their coats.
Jerks.
Five valuable lessons that I learned from this experience:
1. Never leave the warmth of the south without long underwear and a t-shirt.
2. When your ass cheeks freeze while riding a SLED, do not mention it as it will only draw attention to the size of your behind.
3. A frozen behind should not be placed directly in a 102 degree hot tub before thawing.
4. Do not try to carry on a conversation with a stranger in a waiting room. The assume you're nuts.
5. Do not thank said stranger for 'warming the seat for you' in the waiting room. They will still consider you nuts and do not care to hear your story about being from the south and how cold it is up here.
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