Peace Out, 2008

From one home to another, we moved across the street.
A basement and a cul de sac, hath our new retreat.
Built a guest room, bought a couch, framed a picture.
Expensive, ouch.
The street filled with children, our driveway with chalk
Playground in the backyard, evening family walks.
I waddled around Disney, Sea World, Universal
7 months pregnant, grouchiness dispersal

But then...

The Browns came a callin', and Lennie said "Once more",
From North Carolina to Lake Erie's rocky shore.
Shoulder pads, spit, grime, and mud
Goodbye toenail, Hello blood.

Back at home, Mommy's belly continued to grow,
Cradling the daughter we had yet to know.
Our family came to stay, in the countdown weeks,
Ready to lend a helping hand, a baby soon to meet.
Amidst the throes of a Carolina summer swelter,
In our arms a precious child found shelter.

Off to Cleveland, we drove through West Virginia's hills
Ready for apartment life, football pays the bills.
For one long month I was alone, 3 children in my care
It really sucked, and so, a blog was born to share
My stories and my heartache, my laughter and my faults
Posted on the internet, my mom needs smelling salts.

Lennie hurt his shoulder, back home we went once more,
Surgery and recovery. Kindergarten! Soccer score.
Quick trip to the mountains, I swear I saw a lion.
Maybe someday, our vacation will be Hawaiian.

The stock market let us down, The Rock Obama had our vote
Blagojevich and Madoff, those villains got our goat.
Baby's first Christmas, Hanukkah candles glow
2009, here you come. Get ready, set, GO!

Ass. It's what's for dinner.

After the never-ending road trip, we are back in North Carolina, just in time to escape the unseasonably warm temperatures that have moved into the North East. I am feeling pretty badly for one member of our traveling party in particular, my little sister's boyfriend. Oh, you poor poor guy. Not only did you have to ride in the back of the minivan with 2 kids and 1 occasionally livid baby, but you had to keep our snoring and gassy dog on your lap because there wasn't a single square inch of space to spare.

There was one other member of the carpool who was gassy, and while I'm not naming names, it's been an ongoing problem since that person has lost 75 pounds recently. In this person's efforts to remain anonymous, he repeatedly refused to open the car windows after dropping bombs. I can only assume the logic being that this person knew we would identify him as the culprit if he rolled down a window moments before the stench hit. Either that, or this person enjoys his own brand. Instead, he continued to deny that it was his ass gas, and stubbornly kept the windows rolled tightly up so that we could all marinate in the aroma of tomorrow's shit-to-be.

After my eyes began to water in the wake of one especially potent sneak attack, I rode the rest of the 11 hour trip with my window cracked. This had an unfortunate side effect. While it's true that the open window helped, it also served to suck the farts right towards my head. It was as if I held the checkered flags and the farts had to go whizzing by me first before they could cross through the threshold of the window and fly out into the night air. So, while I breathed in less of each particular fart because it was traveling too quickly, I also breathed in more total farts because they came from all corners of the minivan to fly out of my window. However, I figured a quick whiff of ass-stank is better than my skin melting off my bones in an undisturbed mushroom cloud of fart.

My little sister's boyfriend was too polite to crack his window and thereby admit he had noticed the stench being emitted by a certain passenger. He spent a large amount of time texting SOS signals on his cell phone before finally slipping into a coma. Today, I noticed the little lines he must have scratched into the wall in order to keep track of the hours he spent as a captive in minivan road trip hell.

So, what'd you get?

Sorry about my slackiness this week. While usually you can chalk it up to sheer laziness, this week I actually have an excuse, NO INTERNET ACCESS!! My worst nightmare come true. I heard this survey on the radio the other day, "Would you rather live the rest of your life with no internet or no sex?" Going a week with no internet really sucks, and I'll leave it at that.

We've been spending our holiday up in New Jersey shuffling back and forth between my parents' and Lennie's parents' houses for Christmas and Hanukkah. Surprisingly, Ella has been very pleasant and happy to show off her raspberry-blowing skills, and Sayde and Connor have, for the most part, been on exceptionally good behavior. Thank you, Santa, how did you know that's just what I wanted? Lennie, all on his own, went out and bought me 12 art lessons. When I was a kid, I was pretty good, but those dreams died out around the same time I realized I'm not really going to be The President of the United States. But, he knows I always regretted not at least trying, so thanks, Len. It's the best gift of my life (besides the 3 sperms that later became our children.) I also got a new camera, so move the fuck over, Ansel Adams, here I come.

I am so far behind on reading everyone elses' blogs I don't think I will ever catch up. But, I'm going to give it one hell of a try once we get back to North Carolina, and after I finish the last book in the Twilight series, which I had to slink into the 'Teen' section at Barnes & Noble to buy, and which my 12 year old niece is also reading. I like to challenge my mind by reading books at a 7th grade level.

So, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanza, and Festivus for the rest of us. I hope you have a great holiday.

PS, the Limoncello was fabulously disgusting, especially when mixed with champagne. Maybe that's why I feel like the bottom of a shoe today.

Hide and Go Seek

My internet service is down so I'm typing this from a blackberry! Come check out my guest post at one of my favorite blogs, http://halfasgoodasyou.com/?p=2948

I'm soooo honest, and I never use sarcasm

I got a little bloggy Christmas present from Susan! It's an honesty award, for telling it like it is. Thank you, Susan, and I'm sorry it took me 2 weeks to get off my ass to accept!

There are the customary rules, but I gotta tell you I'm feeling a little rambunctious today and may not follow all of them. (Oooooooooo, I'm tellin') At least I was honest about that.

1."When you receive the prize, you must write a post showing it, together with the name of who has given it to you, and link them back.

2.Choose a minimum of 5 blogs that you find brilliant in their content or design.

3.Show their names and links and leave them a comment informing that they were prized with 'Honest Weblog'.

4.List at least ten honest things about yourself. Then, pass it on!"

Ok class, since it's almost Christmas break, today we are going to skip over rules 2 & 3, roll in the TV cart, pop a movie into the VCR, and call it a day. Lights off, heads on your desks. Instead of the requested 10 honest things about me, here are 10 times I was a filthy sneaking liar:

1. In 5th grade, our teacher made us grade our own papers. Actually, she made us switch with the kid sitting next to us and grade each others'. I had a major crush on the boy sitting next to me, and so when he suggested that from now on we just always give each other A's, I agreed, without a single doubt that this would seal our love forever. Of course, we eventually got caught and because of our sneakiness, I wasn't recommended to be on Safety Patrol in 6th grade.

2. Also in 5th grade (it was a difficult year for me), I told one of my Girl Scout leaders that I hated her. She made fun of me too much. My mom was mortified and made me call to apologize. I said, "I'm sorry I told you I hated you. " I lied.

3. I didn't lose my retainer when I was 12, like I told my mom. I sat on it and broke it into 4 pieces.

4. I stole a bottle of Wet N Wild nail polish from the Harmon Cosmetics store when I was a teenager.

5. In geometry, I wrote the formula on my desk in pencil before the test started. (Which actually forced my brain to remember it, thus defeating the purpose of cheating).

6. All those times I called in "sick" to work. But in my defense, there is no such thing as "Just don't feel like going" days.

7. I wasn't too sick to take the final exam in my Research class in college. I was too hungover.
Thanks once again, Everclear.

8. When Lennie called and asked if I had gotten a dog behind his back while he was away at training camp. "Absoultely not," I believe my reply was.



9. I wasn't really on vacation when my old Virginia neighbor invited me to what was basically a "buy some sex toys" party. I was just hiding out in the basement with the lights off for 3 days so I didn't have to go.

10. I can't think of a #10 right now because typically, I don't lie, I avoid.

Lights back on, movie's over. Now, I am supposed to pass this on to 7 more bloggers, but I promised no homework. So, if you consider yourself to be a blogger who "tells it like it is" go ahead and steal this award right off my page. I promise I won't tell on you, pinky swear, it's our secret.

You can have some of my Limoncello ello ello

Somehow, I got it in my head this year that homemade Limoncello would be a good Christmas gift. It looked so yummy in the magazine, all wrapped up in pretty bottles, like lemonade - with
a kick. Plus, the recipe looked so simple (besides the whole "Cover and let stand at room temperature for 2 weeks" part). So, off to the grocery store I went filling my cart with lemons, sugar, decorative glass bottles, and festive ribbons.

The next stop was the local ABC store, which I cannot enter without turning slightly red, avoiding eye contact with the clerk, and smirking uncontrollably. It's like I'm in college all over again as I cruise down the aisles looking for vodka and this:

Whoa dogs. Anytime a recipe includes grain alcohol, you know it's gonna be good. I haven't seen a bottle of Everclear in about 10 years, and even then the memory is marred with an inexplicable feeling of blackness and spinning, and just thinking about it makes me start looking for a place to barf. Good times...

So, once I got home, I began peeling all the lemons by hand, 28 of them total. Lemons are frickin hard to peel! It's not like oranges or grapefruits where you can just peel it all off in one piece. No, the stupid lemons peels are super-glued on, and so centimeter by centimeter I worked, and was so relieved when I was done.

But before I added all the alcohol, I just wanted to double check the recipe from a different source. So, I googled Limoncello and found this and this, two great recipes, both of which stress making sure to use a very sharp knife to peel only the yellow "rind" off the lemon, leaving off all the the bitter white stuff, the "pith". The Limoncello will be bitter if the white pith is left on, so be sure to take meticulous care to remove it all. Um....crap. So, reading my magazine again, it doesn't say anything about pith. Stupid light cooking bastards.

So, back I went to my bowl of peels, to rip all the pith off the rind piece by piece. I now know why people who cook a lot buy those gel mat thingys for their kitchen floors, my back was killing me. I was all hunched over and my hands cramped up, standing there for hours peeling pith, piece by piece. I am also much more aware of the delicate bond that holds fingernail to finger.

But after all that effort, I have to admit, the yellow rinds looked rather pretty in my red mixing bowl (this is only the first half of the lemons - my hands were too crippled by the end to take any pictures).


What's that you say? Still some white left? Bite my ass.

I don't think I would have survived the Limoncello making experience without the help of my assistant, Chocolate Chip. Thanks, Chocolate, you're always there for me when I need you most.


So, now the pith-reduced rinds are soaking in a vat of vodka & Everclear on my countertop and we have only one more week to go before I get to taste the lemony goodness. Oh, by the way before I forget, while I was at the liquor store I picked up a bottle of real Limoncello just to see what it's supposed to taste like. It was disgusting. So, if mine is disgusting too, than I'll know I did it right. Cheers!


Disclaimer:
Never take a Limoncello recipe from an Irishwoman. A Hot Toddy, on the other hand, is a whole different story.

Happy Birthday, Sayde Loo Hoo, who's 4 more than 2 hoo

Dear Sayde,

This is the week of your 6th birthday. This is also the week I've been frantically speed-walking through every Target, K-Mart, and Walmart in the state looking for a very specific 'My Little Pony'. The white one, with the pink mane & glittery butt. You were very clear about which pony you liked the best and I even bought a lot of 12 vintage 1984 ponies off of Ebay in hopes that one of them will be white with a glittery butt. Since it hasn't yet arrived, I'm seriously considering going back to the place where your friend had her party and begging them to sell the white pony to me. Otherwise, my birthday present to you this year will be: searing disappointment. It's a valuable lesson, and the younger you learn how to cope with it, the better off you'll be. Kind of like last Christmas when you wanted a puppy, but instead what you got was a new baby sister. Sorry about that. But, learning to deal with being let down is "good for you" AKA, "the worst words a kid can hear".

To ease the pony let down, while I was looking around Ebay, I came across a My Little Pony stable carrying case also from 1984.

I had this when I was a little girl, and remember how much fun it was to put the little ponies in their stalls. I am aware that the excitement of it all is almost too much to handle. But, I thought you may enjoy it also, until I noticed the price: "Buy it Now for $29. Plus $8 shipping." Are you kidding me? It's a piece of toxic-laden plastic from the 80's. Disappointment is a lot cheaper, and a lot better for you than Bisphenol-A, phthalates, and melamine.

Besides disappointment, Daddy and I decided to give you a birthday party at the local paint your own pottery store, which for some reason you think is a restaurant. I made sure there was a wide selection of butterflies and kitties to choose from for you to paint, because I love not hearing you have two meltdowns in one day you so much.

That's where my battery runs out. And, crap. And off I go to find fake fruits to feed your dollhouse...

Luckily for me, your birthday falls in December, so we still have Christmas and Hanukkah to make it up to you. I love you, sweet girl.

Love,

Mommy

I Fear For My Safety

Right now I am astounded by the universe. Tonight, as I was backing out of a parking space, I paused to let some pedestrians pass. As I was waiting for the people to walk by, who should ram their minivan straight into the back of my minivan? STUPID HAIRCUT KID'S MOM.

No fucking way.

A few of my kindhearted readers expressed pity for the poor cherub, who annoyed us so, for being cursed with such an imbecile for a mother. My cold black heart was unmoved.



Apparently, the universe thought it fit to teach me a lesson. Is it coincidence that a mere 8 days after I wrote a scathing review of her son, that Stupid Haircut Kid's Mom removed all the paint from my minivan's rear fender? I think not. And perhaps I should stop referring to the cherub as "Stupid Haircut Kid" before my tires go flat.

So you may enjoy vicarious payback on Cherub's Mom's behalf, here is a little entertainment.
I especially like when the dude in the green does a hand-puppet-show-dance from behind the couch.

You're not Zero Anymore

Dear Ella,
My little punkin beans, happy 6 month birthday. You are now officially 1/2 years old. Well technically, your 6 month birthday was two days ago, but you didn't seem to notice. Right now, my love, you are asleep in your crib upstairs with a sock on your right hand. When you learned how to suck your thumb a few weeks ago, I thought it was a blessing because finally you had a way to calm yourself down. Don't get me wrong, sweet pea, I appreciate how strong you've made my legs by insisting on being bounced 14 hours a day, but I'm glad you've found your thumb to be infinitely more satisfying. Unfortunately, you've found your thumb to be so comforting, that you've sucked the skin right off it . Your little thumb is all cracked open and raw, and you spent the entire last night screaming because you wanted to suck your thumb, but it had no skin. So, for the good of our entire family, we socked you.

But to our great surprise, you have demonstrated yourself to be a peacemaker. This morning, for the first time ever, you decided that a pacifier was acceptable. In fact, it seemed not only acceptable, but pretty damn awesome; when judging by the snapping turtle impersonation you did when I held that binky in front of your face. It was very mature of you to compromise and I'm so proud of you. 1/2 years old and you are so reasonable.

This easy-going side of you comes as such a surprise mostly because of the circumstances of your birth. After my C-section with Connor, I was convinced that I had brought the need for surgery upon myself by agreeing to be induced because the Redskins had an away game. Yes, you read that right, baby girl, but we wanted Daddy to be there, so induce I did. But, Baby-Connor didn't know which way was South, and so the doctor had to go get him. However, after I saw Baby-Connor, the largest baby in the nursery, I decided that maybe I really shouldn't try and force a Christmas ham through a toilet paper roll - for the good of the toilet paper roll.

However, with you being a girl, I really thought you'd be able to find your way, and plus I'm stubborn as hell and really didn't want another C-Section. But inevitably, after spending 21 hours trying to find the exact right position to ease a Christmas ham through a toilet paper roll,

I gave up and let the doctor take you. It was worth it.

I've kissed you every day since that day. And though things don't always go the way we plan them, as long as I can kiss your chubby cheeks, we'll be just fine. I love you more than you'll ever know.

Now, forget "da da da da". Let's work on "ma ma ma ma", and when all else fails, squeak.

Love,

Mommy

Oh the Things you can Buy on Ebay These Days

So when I was tooling around on Youtube looking for that vulture clip, I came across one of my childhood favorites, 'Garfield's Halloween Adventure'. Unbeknownst to me as a child, Garfield apparently drops the F-bomb, twice. See for yourself:

This got me thinking about all those Disney movies that have subliminal sex messages in them. For example, 'The Lion King'. There is a scene where supposedly the word "SEX" is written into the dust.

All I've got to say is, HELLO! It is.

Then I started thinking about the balcony scene in 'Aladdin' where he is trying to shoo the tiger away. Aladdin whispers, "Good teenagers take off their clothes." This, I know for a fact to be true because I personally paused and rewound that scene 5,000 times.

Next, I remembered discovering that on the old VHS covers of 'The Little Mermaid', there is a huge phallus right smack in the middle of the castle art, just kind of blending in with the other spires.

Nice one. Sparkly.

After that, I remembered the marriage scene in 'The Little Mermaid' where the minister gets REALLY excited to be marrying the Sea Witch and Prince Eric. So excited, in fact, that he pitches a little tent right there under his robes. I know, it's the most disturbing of all.

I also know this to be another personal pause-and-rewind fact. I have issues. Sorry, I don't have the where-with-all to show you a visual of that one though. You sick freaks out there will just have to do your own search, like I did.

Upon my Googling "Little Mermaid Erection", I found some interesting results. However, there was one peculiar invitation that stood head and shaft above all the others. Take a look:

Did you see it? Look closer...

Apparently, you can get a great deal on a huge selection of Little Mermaid Erections on Ebay.

Bid on Little Mermaid Erection Now! Bid, you slippery bitch!

Blogger is down

Have your sandwich boards ready because: The End is Near

So a bipartisan congressional task force has just released a report on weapons of mass destruction, and the fabulous news is they say a nuclear or biological attack is more than likely and can expected in the next 5 years. Furthermore, they say our margin of safety is shrinking. They claim their intent is simply to inform the people of the United States, and not to terrify us. Um...thanks?

Watch how fast I'm going to grab my shovel and head into the back yard now to start digging my emergency bomb shelter, you know, in case. And, for Christmas this year, I would like 4 plastic tarps, several rolls of duct tape, 500 cans of beans, a year's supply of water, and a gun with one bullet. Don't worry, I already have plenty of batteries saved up from Y2K.


I'm anxiously awaiting the Department of Homeland Security's response.

Your little cherub is an obnoxious ass

Some people should just not be allowed to have children. There's got to be a way to sort them out before they unleash their spawn on the world. I met the most ANNOYING kid in the world the other night. I think he was on a covert mission to slip over to our family's table, gain trust as one of our children, and then destroy us from the inside.

This kid would just not leave us alone. We were sitting together, eating our dinner, when here comes Stupid Haircut Kid out of nowhere. He pulled up a chair, while eating a box of NERDS for dinner, and started talking to Lennie. We were all kind of like "Where the hell are this kid's parents?" Uninvited, he picked up Connor's beloved Transformers and began to play. Lennie asked him, in the most restrained voice I've ever heard, to please be gentle with the toy. Next thing you know, the kid fucking broke off a piece.

Then he tried to hug Lennie.

The sadistic side of me actually enjoyed watching Lennie's "fight or flight" response play out on his face. It wasn't hard to tell he was debating between picking this kid up by the scruff of his neck and booting his ass back to his own table, or just gathering our kids, baby and toys and running away hoping he won't pursue. I say, mace first, then run.

Lennie said, "Ok, Pal, time to go back to your own table." Except, his Mom had gotten up to go to the bathroom. She just left her Stupid Haircut Kid with a bunch of strangers and expected us to watch him for her. Here's a tip, lady: Don't leave your kid with a strange family; it could be my family and I could be contemplating macing your kid.

The Mom was gone for a good 10 minutes and the whole time, this kid was trying to snuggle Lennie and taking toys out of Connor's hand, and we did our best to instill order, but he's not our kid so we can't beat him.

When Stupid Haircut Kid's Mom finally wandered over to our table, the kid told her that he broke the Transformer. Her response? "Oh yeah, those things break all the time."

Let's just say it's a good thing Lennie doesn't pack heat like Plaxico Burress, because he'd be turning himself in today too. I think our silence and avoidance of eye contact, coupled with our clenched jaws, would have cued most people on to the fact that we are not enjoying her son's company, but not this Mom. She just went back to her table. Lennie had to physically pick up the kid's chair and move it back to his table before she got the point. Then, she seemed offended.

Now help me, there has just got to be a way to filter these people out. A questionnaire or something they could fill out so we'll all KNOW, that for the good of civilization, this one must not breed. We could even make it easy: TRUE/FALSE

Some questions could be:
1. A box of NERDS can be dinner. True/False

2. It's OK to leave your kid with strangers while you go to the bathroom for an hour. True/False

3. It's cool to give your kid a haircut that would make a Yeti cringe. True/False

4. Breaking other kids' toys is the toys' fault. True/False

5. When someone is restraining themselves from macing your kid, it's a good idea for your kid to attempt to sit on their lap. True/False

It's a simple system, too many True's and it's off to the clinic we go. Tra la la la laaa.

The Polka Dots were giving me migraines

I told you I get antsy. The last time I asked you guys what you thought of the change, it ended in a tie vote. So this time, fuck democracy. This blog is henceforth a monarchy - and I'm the Queen. ok?