Thursday Thirteen

Thirteen Things about Melissa 1. I'm sick again. This time I have a head cold. My whole body hurts. My teeth hurt. My eyes hurt. My sinuses are going to explode and it feels like I have dirt in my throat. Apparently my immune system doesn't like me. 2. Richard got Splinter Cell 4 last night. He was up until 7 a.m this morning playing said video game. The bass on the surround sound is so loud, I thought the helicopters were really in our house. Oh the terror. Oh the sounds of war. Or maybe that was just the medicine I was on. 3. It has been raining for days. At 2:30am I could hear someone banging on our door. I don't know how Richard didn't hear them, maybe the sound of helicopters and guns shooting damaged his hearing. After banging twice she about kicked down the door. The neighbor said there was water in her basement and told him to "check your "sump" pump. He repeated, "Sump pump? My sump pump?" She glared at him and walked back to her townhouse. 4. My first thought, wasn't about the water that was probably all over our basement floor and the countless things that are ruined, but cripes, my kitchen is a mess and she probably saw it. Darn teenage boys, you tell them to do the dishes and.... 5. I couldn't get back to sleep so I watched an episode of Zola Levitt Presents. I'm still sad he went to be with the Lord before I got to go on a tour to Israel. I miss his teaching. I'm a selfish person. To be with Christ is far better then this mucky life. 6. At 4:30am I was rummaging through the cupboards looking for some sort of medicinal relief. I found Benadryl and Imodium AD. Where was that when I needed it back when I lost five pounds in five days from the runs? 7. I gained those five pounds back and some. I'm bootylicious baby. 8. Richard asked me if this is what our home schooling days are like. Me sitting on the computer while the kids do whatever. I told him no, but they don't usually have to listen to the sounds of helicopters, grenades going off, and men of war screaming at each other. Does he really think anyone is going to get any work done with him home today anyways? 9. Vinny is tired of being in his crate. He is starting to put his paws up to fight his way out of the kennel when we put him back in. I hope his pins can come out of his elbow soon and he can walk around again like a normal puppy. Plus I want to dress him up in sweaters and a batman costume. 10. Am I almost done yet? I need to lay down. 11. Mooch is watching the Simpsons on her portable DVD player she got for her 13th birthday. Tchah. I hate when the kids watch that DVD Richard has. I'm going to hide it with all the other stuff I hide around here. wicked cackle 12. I have to close tonight at the restaurant and I so don't want to go. I can barely talk and I'll be blowing my nose every five minutes. That should be real appetizing to those who have just eaten. 13. I GOT A NEW CAMERA!!! A digital SLR!! I'LL STOP SCREAMING AT YOU NOW. It's just that I'm like-so-totally psyched. The only drag is that one of the lenses has a few small scratches and I haven't had enough time to figure out how to use the thing. I can't wait though. Links to other Thursday Thirteens!

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

A Bloglift

I'm sure you've noticed my blog has gotten a bit of a face lift. I still haven't found a blog design or designer that I both like and can afford. I'm the classic perfectionist. And I'm too lazy and busy to do it myself. But I hated everything about the lame looking blogger template. It didn't help with my disinterest in blogging.

• Eventually I'll also transfer any old archives from another online journal that I kept back when I was pregnant in 1999. I'm just too busy to mess with it or scan in old pictures to my flickr account. I also have to include entries from when I first moved here to Wisconsin.
• I went through my blogroll and dumped dead links. If you're not on the blogroll and you know you should be let me know. I don't mean to leave anyone out, just trying to clean things up a bit.
• I added my Stylehive badge. You should get one too.
• I switched to Beta Blogger.
• I added my Bake Space link, let's see how long it is before I use it.
• I've added del.icio.us since many have complained you couldn't add me.
• I changed my flickr badge since many people said they preferred seeing bigger thumbnails of my random images
• I added my frappr map, although I'll admit I hardly check it. I'm sorry if you think I've ignored messages, emails, or requests. Just can't keep up.
• I've decluttered my blog and added new colors
• I'm currently working on getting up a new title bar

And I think it's safe to say, I'M BACK. Thanks for understanding my need to disappear. Thanks for your friendship, compliments, and coolness.

Customer Service in "America"

Has anyone else noticed that customer service isn’t really customer anymore? I might as well be dialing 1-800-Thick Indian Accent.

I realize everyone around the world deserves a good job which is lucky for them that more and more American companies are turning into cheap bastards. It’s so very kind of them to help our fellow global citizens by giving them our jobs at salaries as low as $2 a day. But do I really need to learn another language or get an interpreter to find out why my cell phone ring tones won’t work or why my bank statement says I’ve been charged $1087 for a money order? Call me a beeotch or racially insensitive but I really don’t like discussing my personal banking with someone that mostly has no clue what I’m saying and might not like me by the time the phone call is over.

The Husband surprised me by ordering a digital camera for me at buydig.com and it has been nothing but a hassle. First they didn't put the credit card info through right. Then we realized through our own investigation that the amount was over my check card limit. I didn’t want to deal with getting the bank to adjust the limit so I call and cancel the order to start over. By this time, the fun of being surprised with a fantabulous new camera was turning into frustration. Eventually my bank flags the card for possible fraud since they had screwed everything up by putting the wrong info through more then three times.

When I’m a big annoyed I can at times behave something like Carrie from King of Queens. It isn’t always pretty, but life I kept reminding myself that it wasn't an emergency. I called the company and apparently buydig.com has only two people working their "customer service" department. The first man was Indian. I couldn't understand a word he was saying. He kept saying 'yes' and 'good' a lot.

But how is it good? I don't understand you and you clearly don't understand me. It was quite close to my home life with three teenagers only probably a bit more annoying. At this point , I think it was easier to potty train four children than it was to understand one word he said. Does he mean yes or does he mean no? The husband works with Indians and he has introduced me to several of his Indian friends. Some have an interesting habit of saying yes and then shaking their no back and forth. Needless to say it's a bit confusing. Sort of like when people here give you the thumbs up to something when really they’re saying, “That’s great. I could care less!”At least when you can see the person you usually have the ability to dicipher sarcasm disguised as sincerity. I just didn't understand anything this nice guy is trying to tell me and I know he's just trying to do his job.

The phone call started off innocent enough with a pleasant hello. Then he mumbled something incoherent about an order number.

Me: It’s 123409, but I can't understand you very well. What do you need again?

Him: Badahbahdah-bahd-a-bahd-abah-help you?

Me: Um, I can't understand you. Did you get my order number?

Him: Yes, yes. Help you please?

Long and awkward silence

Me: So, um, can I talk to someone? I'm sorry, but I can't understand you.

Him: Yes, yes, yes. Yes, very good.

Me: So, are you transferring me?

Sound cliche? That's exactly how it went though.

Please is a word used very liberally in these phone calls, even if it seems to be used in a way that suggests the person has no idea what they're really saying. It just must make us feel better to hear please by a person that currently has access to some of our most personal and vital information, right?

Then every single phone call after that was with a pleasant woman I'll refer to as Vampire Girl. I kid you not; it was like I had stepped into the twilight zone where old actresses from cheesy vampire movies spend out their days working the customer service circuits of internet companies located in New Jersey.

"I vant to take your oooordawr numberrrrrr. Please."

I was beginning to feel that we were playing some sort of phone game I wasn't privy to. It was a bit surreal at the moment, but I had to laugh at it later. Laughing is something I do to keep from crying or acting like a crazy person.

One camera-ah ah ah.
Two CS agents- ah ah ah.
Three mistakes-ah ah ah
Four hours on the phone- ah ah ah
Five different phone calls- ah ah ah.
Absolutely zero customer service-ah ah ah

Wait von minute. Since when is buydig.com employing Transylvanian vampires? It wasn’t just like she was from that area, it was like she was trying to talk a vixen from a vampire movie. Her accent was insanely thick and the whole time I’m picturing Elvira with fangs on the other line. I worked hard on my gracefulness. I so wanted to ask her why I couldn't just talk to someone else. But she was holding my camera hostage and she had my credit card number, even if she didn’t know how to use it. Plus, I'm all out of silver bullets.

By this time it was later and I pondered whether it would sound really rude if I asked if she was the only one ever there. Like, is she in charge of the graveyard shift at the customer service desk or something? No pun intended.

I say this because every time I’d hang up to call my bank (who incidentally said every thing was okay on my end) I’d call back only to get HER on the line again.

Whispering past the phone, "Honey, it's vampire girl again. Don't they have anyone else working there? I just talked to her."

The poor lady had had no idea what she was doing and from her own omission there was no one else to help her figure it out. By the time I spoke to that same woman five times in one day I was beginning to think this was some fake company and perhaps this was my husband’s idea of a joke. I googled them just to make sure that The Husband didn’t give our credit card number to some Cracker Jack company. Buydig is for freal. They just have lame customer service. You'd think a worldwide company like that would have more then one person on duty to take calls.

All is well that ends well and after two days of nonsense my camera is supposedly on its way. I can't vait.

Thursday Thirteen

Thirteen Things about Melissa 1. Last night my husband and I got into a fight. It's the second day in a row that we're bickering, arguing, and saying mean things. Let's just say he's trying to quit a nasty habit and he's obviously cranky and moody and I've been with him way too long to put up with it. I know I need to let God work on me in this area of my life, but it's hard. I have a hard time putting up with attitudes and if you start calling me names, or be ugly sarcastic or insulting, I'm likely to give you a piece of your own medicine. Yeah, I got be that biatch. I think I fed up two days ago and hollared, "Um, hello? You know me well enough to know that I'm not the kind of girl that's gonna put up with that BS. You must have me mistaken for another wife. Don't ever raise your voice to me or tell me what to do!!" Of course I feel bad though that I wasn't the ultra amazing patient Proverbs 31 wife. Pfffft. OK, here's the deal. That part was true, but he's my man and I hate when we fight. I had anxiety about it all last night and I got hives on my wrist. I've never had that happen before. I sent him an email; he was asleep already though because he tends to pout ignore people when he's mad and he goes to sleep, regardless of whether or not it's four in the afternoon. This morning he didn't answer me when I asked him a question--oh no, is he inheriting his father's shunning tacicts? I think my mother-in-law said one of the things she hated about her ex-husband was how long he'd drag things out and how he'd ignore her sometimes for days. That's sad. I have to work tonight and I don't want to leave when we're being stupid like this. Richard, I love you. I hate when we fight. Stop being a poopeyhead and let's be nice. 2. My camera has officially died. About 6 months ago it was dropped when Mooch came running at me to see the golf ball sized hail falling down outside. I was trying to get some pictures and next thing I knew it was on the ground with the lense dented in and crooked. That was the second time that had happened and my super genius husband got it back in both times. I'm surprised I was able to take any pictures after that, but even so the quality was noticibly poor, even for a Kodak Easyshare camera. I crave taking pictures. Photography is one of my passions and the last year or so I'm really trying to improve and not just take snapshots. Richard said he's going to buy me a new camera this weekend, but now I don't know. 3. I've discovered I really like custard style yoplaits. I realized this when I didn't eat any real food for about four days last week when I had a stomach bug. Lemon and boysenberry and cherry--oh my. 4. Tomorrow is Mooch's 13th birthday. I'm both excited and sad about it. People, children do truly grow amazingly fast. Don't take one day or stage for granted. Think about it like this, at six years old your child is at the half way mark for being a preteen. At nine years old, they are half way to being eighteen. Thirteen seems so far away when your preschooler is 3, but I promise you it goes extremely fast. 5. It's really cold here today in southeast Wisconsin, but I love the Fall. 6. I've lost 10lbs in the last 2 months or so. 7. I'm working tonight and I have to close. I hate closing, the night drags on and I don't get out until about 11pm. I really don't like coming home to see I've missed a whole evening with my family. Oh well, I'm doing what I can to help my guy get ahead on the bills. 8. I love Christmas. I'm already looking forward to baking cookies, Christmas hymns, decorating, making ornaments, driving around while looking at lights, family favorite Christmas movies, and adding new traditions. 9. I'm running out of things to say. 10. I have bad posture. I can see that I'm slouched over this keyboard and I need to stop it or I'm going to keep shrinking and become a hunchback. Links to other Thursday Thirteens!

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
View More Thursday Thirteen Participants
[thursday thirteen]

Can someone remind me...

Why I've chosen to stay home and homeschool all day. And what was I thinking having so many of children so close together. And when do they start acting like human beings with coginitive abilities, common sense, and reasoning skills and less like little punks. And why must they eat all the toilet paper? Is it really too much to ask to have toilet paper last longer then 16 hours.

Where is it all going? How come they don't understand that you're not suppose to clean mirrors with it, clean your ears out with it, wrap your body in it; stuff your bra with it, clean the cat with it, fake a broken arm with it, decorate the banisters with it.

Oh, and can someone ask God to have me exempt from ever getting a stomach bug for the rest of my life? I think five days of puking and other unmentionable things is enough for one lifetime. The kids got sick for one day, but I was half dead when it was all over. I ended up in the E.R where some young, fairly cute E.R doctor was asking me about my bowel movements.

And what was the upside of that whole ordeal-cause you know I always like to see the positive in things-well I lost five pounds. As if it's going to stay off, its cruel I tell you, just plain cruel.

Regularly Scheduled blogcasting

Back to my regularly scheduled blogcasting. Life interrupted my blogging again. How dare it. Either I couldn't sign into blogger (why do they have so many problems lately?) or my silly computer keeps telling me: WARNING! You are low on disk space! Then it procedes to reboot itself whenever deemed fit. Speaking of blogging after a rough year, home schooling troubles, a miserable winter with S.A.D, and computer troubles I just haven't felt into blogging or writing. It's a tad strange sometimes too knowing a lot of people you don't know are regularly reading about your not so cool life, and you're willingly telling them probably more then you should. I've had a few weird emails this year. Then quite a few kids at my son's prior school got suspended for running their mouthes off on My Space about parties, drinking, and co-ed sleepovers. Ya' never know whose reading. It can't always been freaks searching for animal p*rn or panty houses. It could be your neighbor. Your pastor. Or worse, your mother.

Random thought: I'm bummed that I've missed my Thursday Thirteens. I had so much to blab about, what with my exciting life and all.

I'm tempted to just do them all now, but that would be cheating.

As I write this, my life has changed a bit. I'm still getting older. I still have too many bills. I'm still 20 pounds overweight who do I think I'm kidding, it's more like 30 pounds and I'm still trying to home school three children who could quite possibly make all fertile males and females run to the doctor to yank out their reproductive goodies. Did I just say that outloud?

What has changed is that I'm a currently employed stay at home mom, which makes no sense I know, bear with me. Since I work only at night and part-times it's almost like I'm still a stay at home mom. I'm working at a well known country restaruant/retail chain as a cashier. It's money and that's that. However, I'm not so in to my uniform. Brown aprons and pastel oxford shirts are so not stylish.

I'm also throwing things away. Lots of things. I'm on a roll and I'm getting rather giddy about it. And like all of us mommies know, no one is noticing. Why? Because they all had too much crapola to begin with. What I don't throw away I donate. What I don't donate I sell on ebay. DVDs anyone? Baby Gap clothes? LeAnn Rimes CD?

And the bestest part. Nothing happened. The ceiling didn't cave in. The children haven't revolted. The husband is saying, 'yes , dear' like the good husband that he is. Now if I could just give away these 20 extra pounds.

For those of you who have asked and who have emailed, Vinny is doing much better. He still has a long way to go though. His big bone seems to look good and one day the Vet wants to get the screw out. But before then, she'd like to take a few pins out, it's just that his little bones aren't quite healed yet. We are doing exercises with his elbow every day to improve range of motion. In the mean time, he's become this huge baby Boston. I can't believe how fast he's grown, it's sort of like how fast a baby grows, only seven times faster. Which is pretty fast.

Right now, he's currently my best behaved child. I choose to believe it's my world renowned Dog Whispering abilities. We're still raising money for his Vet care by auctions and donations. I'm still floored at the kindness of strangers. The donations have come in handy as xrays are about $70 each time, but thankfully the Vet is not charging us for the visit. Who would have thought that one day I'd be taking money from complete friends and strangers for a little poop-eater.

He's so worth it so I don't even care.

I got to meet Alicat of Something So Clever, who so graciously donated her web designing services for his blog. She is originally from my area and grew up here before moving to California. Her grandma's house is in my very own town not more then five minutes away. Talk about a small world. Sadly, her grandma has passed and her mom and her aunts and uncles got together Labor day weekend one last time before the house sold. It was a total trip to not only meet her, but to have her sitting in my livingroom. Way cool. I showed her my vintage Better Homes & Gardens magazines where the housewives cleaned in high heels and raved over every new product meant to make their domestic bliss easier. We're both magazines junkies. We both collect cookbooks and tons of recipe pull outs. We both are sick enough to organize them all in clear plastic paper protectors and file them in binders. We are both Christians. We both love being a housewife, only she got bit with the cooking bug and I stink at staying organized. We both love to bake. We both want to have land with a farmhouse and lots of animals. We have quite a bit in common. It's spooky.

She's as super sweet in real life as she is around the net, which I expected. She has the most amazing skin and super great hair. I hate her. When I met her at her grandma's house the first night, she gave me some yummylicious soaps from Shoestring Home in downtown Waukesha, which was very very cool. I have no excuse not to smell good now, except that my children don't believe in letting me shower seeing as though every time I try to, the noise I hear from downstairs sounds like a psycho with a battering axe is trying to wreck the house.

Then when she came to our house she brought some treats from the Elegant Farmer, a place I totally have to visit now. The kids were shy though as mom always tells them not to talk to internet "strangers" and now one of them was in their house and bringing us goodies. As soon as we left the room though they gobbled them up like banshees.

The only lame part is that neither of us took pictures. My camera has pretty much officially croaked and she just forgot and I forgot to remind her. Now she has to come out again and bring Letta and Puggy.

About my dead camera. I'm really, really bummed. I love photography. It's my respite. I was planning on taking some classes next semester. Now I have to buy another camera, which is not bad in itself, unless you don't have the money, which is pretty much my situation right now.

Damn those car payments. Damn those student loans. Damn those phone bills.

You know I love to brag how my children are the cutest ever so I will leave you with a picture of my son's first day of school this year. Due to his expression I'm calling it, Mugshot of a First Grader.

Don't worry, I've posted bond.

Boston Kisses

Boston Kisses
Originally uploaded by Butterfly Bliss.

I'm still here, taking it one day at a time. Life has been crazy, busy, weird, and stressed. What else is new, right? Puppies with fractured elbows, mother-in-laws wanting to move in with us, ear infections, strange rashes from unknown allergic reactions, broken teeth, pulled teeth, school starting, home school curriculum, and a new job.

Sometimes when life seems like poop on a stick, I just look at my kids and furkids and they put it all into perspective for me.

*Run around with wild abandon kissing others.
*Eat anything you want, who cares about the hips.
*Take long naps, eat, and then take another one.
*Spend lots of time grooming and pampering yourself, even if you don't have a boyfriend or anywhere to go.
*Don't worry about tomorrow, it will come soon enough. Just demand someone pat your belly and feed you cookies.

America's Drunkest City

Today Forbes posted a special report on America's drunkest cities and according to their research Milwaukee is the drunkest city in America. I am not surprised. We have like eight bars for every one corner in Milwaukee. The first thing people ask me when I tell them I live in the Milwaukee area is, "So, is that like the beer capital or what" When I found out that The Husband's company was moving us from San Diego to Milwaukee nine years ago the first thing I thought of was Laverne and Shirley. And lots of beer bottle caps.

I've never seen a city have more bars. I've seen ten bars on the same side of the street and only like six blocks separating them. I think Wisconsin invented tailgating which is another occasion to knock a few back. What goes better with deep fried turkey and cheese curds? Beer.

Every time I go to the Milwaukee Zoo I see at least five people who are intoxicated. I'm not sure I can blame them. I often want to get drunk after a family trip to the zoo.

Wisconsinites love their food and their beer, not to mention every other kind of alcoholic beverage. And if the food is fried or on the stick. Well that's just a little piece of heaven. One thing I've noticed since moving here is that Milwaukeeans find any possible reason to celebrate with a plethora of edible delights, the least of which are cheeses, meats, and pastries. Then there's the booze. You can't forget the booze. How else is one going to cook their brats and make cheese soup?

When it comes to getting drunk at a kids birthday party-or baptism-Milwaukee leads the way. You're having a hang nail removed? That's call for a party and three kegs. You adopted a new dog? I'll order six cases of wine and four twelve packs of Leinenkugels. And for those of you who hate the taste or smell of beer, you'll really gag at the smell of it being brewed. I avoided driving to downtown Milwaukee while pregnant with LiL' J because the smell was enough to make me puke. It took me four years to get used to that smell. The stench wafts through the air and assaults the nose. It's nasty stuff. And for some, that smell is GOOD. Almost nostalgic.

I've had a few people tell me that smell brings back memories of childhood in Milwaukee. I grew up with smog. Lots of smog. Tourists were told it was the "marine layer". Um, no. It was smog.

And it smelled a lot better than the scent of fermenting yeast.

I'll give Milwaukeeans this though. They sure know how to have fun. And make a kick-ass danish.

Random Thoughts

Yes, I missed Thursday Thirteen. I'm a little busy here nursing an injured dog, making sure he doesn't jump around and hurt his leg, or eat his poop when he goes in his kennel intead of outside. My poor baby.

I've had a lot of time to think and ponder lately. About nothing really important along with the heavy "wow, man" spiritual groovy type stuff. Today though, I feel like just rambling about all the things I've been wondering about lately.

First of all, I seem to have a new stalker. He followed me from flickr and if leaving me nasty, rude, and dumbass comments because he has a I'm-a-total-jerk-loser-whose-insecure-about-my-short-stature-and-manly-looking-wife complex isn't bad enough, he tried to spread his ignorant stupidity to Vinny's blog and leave sarcastic comments on one of my kids baby pictures. He must be a stupid man.

He had two different flickr accounts obviously and it seemed every time I turned around there he was. What a freak. He apparently thinks I'm some irresponsible pet owner because I allowed an unforseen accident to happen to my dog and I didn't make sure I had thousands of dollars to pay for said unforseen accident. What a clown.

Phish. I think the man has a death wish. He must have, because I'm about ready to go loco on his fugly little ass.

Mean people suck. You just never know whose watching and reading your blog. It just might be your neighbor, your boss, or one of millions of totally unstable asshats in the world. Do they really have nothing better to do?

Anyone seen my pepper spray?

On to my next random thought. Is it unreasonable to expect a frog to swim? See, because I was watching my husband spend hours playing Frogger on the Xbox 360 which he might need to chain down to insure it's still around as I'm selling anything I can to help pay for my piglet's ongoing vet bills and he was so insistant on making sure he got those silly little achievements unlocked, that if he wasn't coming to the rescue of those lady frogs just right quick enough he'd bail out and start all over. Is it possible to train a man to clean the bathroom with that much persistance and passion? I digress...

Anyone seen my stun gun?

He's getting all flustered when the frog keeps drowning. I mean, really. It's called F-r-o-g-g-e-r. Why is the dang thing drowning when it jumps into the water anyways. Yeah, I know, there's all kinds of varieties of frogs, but I highly doubt the African tree frog is the kind that's going to hop through traffic and over logs for a bug. What's the fun in that anyways? It's a freakin frog, can I not expect it to at least froggy paddle it's butt across the river? It drowns the second it goes into water? Zee frog should be able swim through the water and the real challenge will be avoiding getting side-swiped by a log. Now, that would make more sense.

Can't you just see their thumbs madly smashing the controller, arms together and waving up and all over as if pretending they're flying a kite somehow does something for their game, "Come on frog, swim, jump up, swim, come on, up, up, up, almost there...oh $%^& there goes its head.

Stop looking at me like that. I'm not deranged, I'm just a little cooped up lately.

I think I'll end with one last random thought. How is it that soda manufacterers have somehow brain washed people into thinking that diet drinks that taste like old people candy or lemon pledge actually taste good. Snap out of it people. Diet soda is bad enough on its own. And don't go trying to convince me otherwise. We all know that if you drink something often enough you'll get used to it well enough to the point when you take a swig your facial expression no longer looks like you've just seen Janet Reno naked.

Now we have this Diet Pepsi Jazz crap? It's poo. Richard bought the strawberry creme because he's such a sucker for any new or novel product out of curiousity. I relented and tasted some. How they ever got that rancid stuff produced is my first thought. I shouldn't be surprised I guess, Kathy Lee Griffin actually has albums out and Ice Cube even had a hit song. Do people actually want to drink DIET colas that takes like artificially flavored popsicles?

Why? Anyone seen my fly swatter?

It's OK, it's them that should be ashamed. You've all become victim to their little chemical trickery. There should be laws against selling drinks that taste like poo. We can all stand around drinking our Jones, Izzes, Sprechers, and Stewarts while flinging bottle caps at their eyeballs.

Anyone seen my car keys?

I'm going to go wash my mouth out with soap now.

Foto Friday

Crazy Grandma
Originally uploaded by Butterfly Bliss.

That is my crazy grandma and my sixteen year old son. For those who just had a baby boy, yes, they do grow in a blink of an eye. Now J is just about 6 feet. He's taller then any of the males in both of our immediate families. He's a genetic anomaly.

Sometimes he it was just yesterday that the hospital actually LET me leave with him. Just yesterday that I nursed the little guy and gave him baths in the sink. It was just yesterday that I watched his first steps, played peek-a-boo, and taught him to ride a bike.

But it feels like a thousand sleepless nights ago too.

Now on to the grandma. She's more like a mom to me then a grandma. I'm an only child and so was my dad, who was murdered at 20 years old in the streets of San Diego. She is a coal miner's daughter. A daugher of the Applachian mountains. She was raised dirth poor and is one of twelve kids. By the time the girls were six years old they had to be at the table making biscuits for a family of fourteen by 5a.m. In school she only got through the 5th or 6th grade. Yet, she's one of the smartest woman you'll ever meet. And fiesty too. When she and my grandfather were in their early years of marriage he'd go out and drink hard liquor and like a fool he'd come home being gruff and one time he tried to hit her. She laid him out with an iron. Knocked him out cold. Taught him two things. Never hit a lady. And do your own laundry.

She's also one of the kindest most selfless person in the world. She's sort of sassy too. She'll tell dirty jokes that will make Howard Stern blush. She has a huge heart and would do anything for you, but she wasn't one of those cookie baking, sweet old lady grandmas.

Here, I took grandma to the family cemetary in Whitesburg, Kentucky. I tried to take a sweet picture of the two. She hates her picture taking and she's threatening to come punch me out.

Sheesh, grams. Behave yourself! And put some clothes on, will ya?

Thursday Thirteen

Thirteen Things about Melissa1. This week, God used a terrible accident that happened to our 3 month old puppy to teach me some spiritual lessons. One of them is that, if I'd be so devasated at the idea of losing this little furry gift, and be willing to do anything I could to keep him and help him, how much more does God love me by sending his Son while I was helpless in sin? How much more should I be daily reaching out to others in compassion and love? Taking nothing for granted. Loving my neighbor and helping anyone I can, in whatever way I can, brings me one step closer to being more like Christ. 2. I have realized also this week that no matter how much I want to beat myself up for "what ifs", "I should have knowns" or "If had just.." it doesn't change a thing. Sometimes, stuff happens. It's just that way. I am too hard on myself, even when I don't expect the same of others. I have to give myself a break and stop being such a perfectionist. 3. I have almost more online friends now in my life then "irl" friends. I care just as much about them as I do the ones I see. Some of these online friends have been a part of my life for over 6 years now and they mean the world to me. This week I feel I've made a few more and I don't care how weird people might that is. 4. I've learned today that a community of strangers online can do more to uplift and encourage someone then you'd ever know. It's a funny thing, this internet realm. There's the good, the bady, and the ugly. But when it's good, it's very good. I've seen clear examples of more loving and truly caring people then in some of my "Christian" circles. What does that say about the church? 5. I tend to avoid getting into group memes and other blog groups because I often get behind or procrastinate. I used to be the one too that would organize these kinds of things and I'd get burnt out. I'm stepping out of my social cacoon and letting you all get to know me better. If I slack, you can kick my ass. 6. I don't usually swear. Is ass a swear word? I don't want my kid saying it, but sometimes ass just works better then booty or bum. I mean, come on. Cut me some slack, all ye those who like to judge. 7. My knee is really hurting me. I've spend more time online this last few days answering emails, doing research on vet care, grants available for us, updating Vinny's site etc., then I have in the last few months. Which is probably why so many of you were emailing me to ask if I had died and what happened to my great snarky, sarcastic sense of humor. The "I don't know" troll living in my house ate it. I think I will need to go on glucosamine tablets like my dog or stop sitting with my knees folded. Either that or I' m just getting old. 8. I have to lose 30lbs or so. To some, they say phish, 30lbs, what's she bawking about? Well, dears, my butthighs now have their own apendages and my rolls have rolls. Stop rolling your eyes. It's true. When you're almost 5'5, smalled boned and 155lbs like me, you'd know what I mean. For once in my life, my arms are even looking chunky. I blame the husband. It's the damn midnight runs for chocolate, custard, shakes, fries, and other junk food. I was a vegetarian for 8 years and started graving junk. He must like me big or he can't say no. He gives in to easy. What a sucker. Now look at me honey. Even when I was 120lbs a year and a half ago my ass had it's own zip code. Anyone want to be my weight loss buddy? 9. I haven't been to the farmer's market ONE time all this summer. I'm disgusted with myelf. And my lame excuses. *It's too hot to go.-True, with the heat index it has been record breaking around here like most of the U.S. I mean, I thought I moved AWAY from California heat? *I just spent most of our grocery money at the store. -Well, dumbass, you know the market's on Wednesday, stop doing that! 10. I'm talking to myself on my own blog. Sometimes I do that. I do it in real life too. I don't answer back that much though. 11. I've taken more pictures of my puppy lately then my kids. I've been assured that's probably not that abnormal. Or at least that's what I'm telling myself. 12. I have to go back to work. Not only do I have tons of vet bills to pay for this next year as Vinny heals, we're buying a house soon. I'm going to be a homeowner! I will even blog the process and let you all vote on decor. Well, some of you can vote. 13. This was my first Thursday Thirteen and I made it through. Yay, now I'm going to go nap before the pup needs me again. Links to other Thursday Thirteens!

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

Rough Times

I know I'm overdue for an update. Sorry guys. Something terrible has happened to our Boston Terrier puppy. A neighbor dropped him and it fractured his elbow on both sides of the growth plate. It was over $3000 in surgery. We traded in a trip to Disneyworld to save his life and his arm. He's worth it though.

I started a blog for updates and fundraising. I never thought in a million years I'm be schlepping money for a pup, but I am. I plan to continue donating to other organizations in the future after Vin's all better. And a word to the wise, if you haven't already, get vet insurance.

Call me Crazy

Tomorrow morning I'm driving down to Whitesburg, Kentucky, with one teen boy, one teen girl, one preteen girl, one six year old boy, one senior citizen, one Boston Terrier puppy, moi, and The Husband.

We'll be traveling in a minivan loaded with a DVD so I think we might get at least 6 hours of drive time before one of the children impales the other. Just kidding. Sort of. Lord willing we'll arrive on Friday evening and return Sunday afternoon. I'm not sure three days are even worth it, but I'm the guilt ridden good granddaughter and I promised to take my grandma to the family reunion.

I've been to Kentucky many times before with fond memories. This will be the first time the other kids have gone and they are not too excited since Mooch told them it's full of bad food, old fat people, and strangers. (She was six when she went down there, anything that isn't mac-n-cheese is bad food, everyone is old when you're six. And, let's face it. Kids are honest. I think there's a few chunkies in our family.)

I do know that I can expect humidity that wraps me in a blanket, fireflies, morning fog so thick that you can barely see in front of your face, roads so curved and twisted there's mirrors on the shoulders, lots of fried pork products, cornbread eaten from glasses of milk, biscuits with sawmill gravy, corn so fresh you can eat it raw, large expanses of white fencing holding majestic horses, some of the friendliest people you've ever met, and a bazillion relatives that I don't know nor am I sure I even want to.

I can also expect to kiss the ground when I get back home and sigh in relief; there's nothing like sleeping in your own bed after being on the road for days.

Free Toys

Yes, I've been back, but I've been uber busy. I had to blog and show off my new toy.



Toys are cool. Free toys are cooler. Free toys involving some of your most interesting photos on flickr are the coolest.

If you don't flickr, I feel sorry for you.

I'll try and get some photos from the 4th up, but since my camera is sick not many of them are all that good. Plus, to my shame, I think I took more pictures of our new furry baby then the kids.

Don't laugh. Puppy love is strong. It has a way of getting a hold on you.

Happy Fourth of July

I am off to Michigan for the week to see my grandma. I can't wait to see her and some of my friends, but I'm not looking forward to J's emo teenaged attitude crap and being stuffed in a car with another child who becomes a bundle of nerves every time we go anywhere. She's 13 and stayed up half the night with the runs because we are going to see grandma, whom we see every year.

Oh. My. Goodnits.

I wonder what she'll be like when we go to Disney World. Woo hoo.

This year we travel with a pooch. This should be fun. Four kids, 16, 13, 12, and 6, plus a puppy. Did I mention that the husband has ADD, the 16 year old has ADHD and teen-itis, and the 13 year old has ADHD/Tourette Syndrome and a touch of OCD. (That means she'll look at the clock every 5 minutes, count every thing anyone eats, and touch everything four times.

It's a good thing I don't drink.

Have a great holiday weekend and thanks to all that have served this country.

I need a new camera badly, my current digital was dropped during a hail storm so half of the time the pictures are terrible. Sorry about the quality. I'll try to get some pictures of my trip and I leave you with two pictures of my two babies.

A Long Dark Winter

I don't feel like writing. I don't feel like anything but blah. I've gotten your emails. I am sorry to be such a schlup, but I'm far too mean to return emails lately. I know updates are wanted, but I'm just not into it. My impulse to write comes at the most inconvenient times, when the voice and the words can easily flow from my mind, heart, or pen, yet the opportunity to do so isn't there. And I couldn't be bothered.

This winter sucked. I know I'll get emails. For whatever reason, some of my christian peers who read my blog think suck is an inappropriate word and I'm not lady like. Some of them like to send me nasty emails, judging me. Which they're often very good at. I am who I am, and that is that. It didn't stink, it sucked royal ash. This year was the first year I've attempted to home school all three out of four children and I felt like I had no idea what I was doing. Or like they have ever paid attention in a class in their entire lives.

In retrospect, I can see that trials and tribulations work torwards building my patience; my faith; my compassion. My furrowed brow. But the winter was long and dark. And it sucked.

I can see more clearly now. I can see light. But, only most recently. I don't feel as though I'm looking at the world with cataracts. Maybe I had a touch of the winter blues. Maybe I had mental blocks. Emotional blocks. Spiritual blocks. Not enough money. Not enough time. Not enough patience.

Not enough of me.

I felt lost. I lost myself somewhere. I had the big D word again. I realized that I'm like so many other women, moms especially, that seem to fade away into a sea of snotty tissues and sports schedules. This time the depression crept up very slowly. Like the Colorado river carving a canyon into my very being soul. Slowly, bits of myself just fell away, first so inconspciously that I noticed nothing, until all of a sudden there was this massive black hole that is my normal quick- witted, sure-footed self.

Then the thoughts start coming. The ones that good moms aren't supposed to think. Or good wives. Like how do you put into words that you love your children with the very fiber of your being, but sometimes you don't like them? Or that you can't figure out how you've managed to stay married as long as you have without drinking every night. Logically I know it's their behavior I don't like, but it seemed I had less paitence for them then I should have. At some point, even though my senses tell me that the fruits of my labor will come later, I want to act like a two year old and scream, I WANT IT NOW!

When do children step out of their own selfishness for once to see how others matter first, how their inactions or laziness affect others; that the world doesn't indeed revolve around them.

To hell with Martha Stewart's good thing list.

Eating dinner without listening to bickering, jokes about wet farts, or theories about who has the dirtiest undewear. Its a good thing.

Not having to share your drink with backwashing children. Its a good thing.

Actually getting to be alone with your husband more then twice a month. Its a good thing.

Not being woken up night after night because your child doesn't know that bedtime actually means they're supposed to be in bed. Their bed. Now that's a good thing.

I got so sick and tired of the arguing and drama that I thought I might actually excel better at tolerating Chinese water torture over spending even five minutes in a room with these kids. That makes me sad, and not the S.A.D said.

Where's my joy? I used to be Desparate to be a Housewife. This winter I just felt desparate. Desparate for something else. And before I get the emails expounding on how I must have some secret unrepentant sin, lingering unforgiveness or discontent, that's not the case. And there's no major drama or some family secret. If there was, I'd let you send me to Dr. Phil, I promise.

(I could use the free weekend getaway and makeover.)

I'd want to spend a whole Saturday in my room at times, watching the same movies over and over. Just being away from everyone. Away from it all. The weight started creeping on, the thoughts kept coming, the memories of things best forgotten poured out like searing lava leaving a sting in my heart.

Depression sucks. Being cooped up sucks. I felt cooped up all winter and I was.

I've probably missed a lot of oppurtunities to serve God and be a blessing to my family because I've been so miserable. Is this all there is? Is being a mom enough of a ministry? Why is it that, if I want nothing more to be a good wife and mom, and be home with my children, do I feel so unhappy in my house? How can I want all of this, yet often feel so discontent with my domestic life? Why do I feel like there's something more.

And why is it lately I can't handle the sadness. In two years our family has lost three grandparents and one uncle. My friends have suffered. They have lost parents; aunts and uncles; brothers. One of my best friends lost a brother last year to what appears to be suicide or an accidental overdose. Another one of my good friends just tragically lost a brother to suicide. My other good friend has suffered many losses lately and even now is with her family after losing her mother-in-law. I have another friend who has had such deep depression she's wanted to leave this life, leaving behind two beautiful kids. I can't imagine that pain. I feel like I can't tune any of it out. It feels like I'm rapidly downloading data that my hard drive can't hold.

Like, did you know that a large portion of the world's chocolate comes from child labor; even worse, children who are slaves on the Ivory Coast are often forced to work long hours chopping down cacao beans with machetes. If that wasn't a horrendous thought for a chocolate lover, consider that many banana plantations use child labor as well.

Just try to enjoy a banana split now.

Those are not the thoughts of a healthy mind.

I just seem so sensitive to the injustice in my world. I've always been aware of my place as a global citizen, but I've felt so helpless these last few months. I want to do more with my life what. I want to make a difference and leave a legacy. But I spend most of my days cleaning up poop and boogers off the walls.

I'm so annoyed that I haven't taken care of myself. As woman, I always hear the warnings about how important it is to take care of myself, but it seems more like an ironic joke then a reality. Sort of like when doctors put you on bed rest when you have a two year old. And they went to school for like eight years? Are they going to loan me their nanny?

Dr. Numbduts: Why haven't you been taking it easy like I ordered?

Huh? What? Oh, you mean you were serious. I'll take it easy when I can unbirth my other children and stuff them back into my crotch. That might take awhile because my 16 year old is six feet tall and my twelve year old is afraid of small, dark places.

For the last few months I've felt trapped. Lost. Cornered. I'm not old, but I'm not young either, and what do I have to show for it? A basement full of primary colored plastic toys and cat pee stains. A List of To Dos as long as the Mississippi, left unchecked. A mouthful full of would'ves, should'ves, could'ves?

As I write this my 16 year old insists on acting like he's six. God forbid I should get to sit down for a few minutes without using the fire extinguisher or faking a cellphone call to the North Pole. To insist that he do something productive or stay on task for I don't know, say more than four minutes, would be completely unreasonable because his brain cells have shrunk. It's like constant pandemonium around here with their arguing. When you're depressed, every noise hurts, and I can go from o to beast in 2.3 seconds.

I've pondered on anything I'd do differently this year. I've thought about how I'll watch for the early signs more closely if next year comes. And I've thought about anything that might have been missing.

Antidepressants.

The Honeymoon is Over

So we're still in love with Vinny. He's everything we ever wanted in a puppy. It's like we've waited for just him. It's not about the money we saved for him. It's knowing he's the best guy for us. But the honeymoon feeling of all is happiness-giggles-and-glee at the ***** house is over.

We just got a letter dated yesterday from the management of our townhomes and the tone didn't sound good. Something about, "it has come to our attention that you recently brought a puppy into your home, blah, blah, blah."

The dog came a week early, so we had and still have, every intention on filling out a proper pet agreement and handing over yet even more cash for a pet deposit. They already knew we were getting him. This letter came from the boss of our manager and she's never that friendly. Our manager has been out sick for a month or more and she was always very amicable so this is other lady is a real kick in the pants. The woman filling in for the manager of our units is the mom of J's best friend. She feels bad about this.

We will pay the money tomorrow and get everything filled out, but we can't neuter a dog that's only almost 8 weeks old. Not vet would do that and even though humane societies will do it as young as 12 weeks, I'm not taking a chance on messing up his development or physical health. Basically the letter states that we need to remove the dog immediately and comply with the pet agreement and make the deposit or else face eviction. Ugh. Sigh. Why is it almost something?

We're not giving up this dog obviously, so I'm just going to bail to Michigan for a few weeks before I figure out straighten it out with the usual person in charge. We're looking to buy a house now anyways, but we're in a lease which doesn't end until March.Will just have to pay to break it. I certainly don't want to be evicted, but perhaps God's telling us to move sooner then later? We were planning on buying a house next year; now we need to look around.

Hopefully this woman will be reasonable. I'm not sure what her deal is, whether we brought in a dog without permission first (a long time ago we were told we could have one if we paid the deposit and paid a pet rent, but she doesn't work on the premises) or that she's just upset because she's learned many tenants have had dogs without ever even reporting them. It sucks that us responsible pet owners are being bothered because a few try to hide pets. That's how the assistant here feels too. I just found out that the guy across from me has a BIG dog and I've NEVER EVER seen him be walked, he must be messing in the basement. It annoys me to no end that she's not spending her time dealing with someone like him.

Rules are rules though, so we'd never avoid having the proper paperwork, we've been good tenants for way too long. Six long years. Not that being a good tenant is bad, just being here that long has been. :o)

Whose life is so sad and pathetic they had to call that woman that doesn't even work here to let her know we have a tiny dog. How sad.

***Update, since we did leave for vacation, the woman that works here informed her the dog left and now the lady seems to have chilled out even though he's back. One of the men that works here has a big lab, his wife has brought him over to play with Vinny, she adores him and Sophie is so gentle and funny running Sylvester over to Vinnny.

Our new baby is here

After waiting year before deciding to get a Boston, we ended up getting a male. A few weeks ago when I was at my friends for a yard sale we were having, J and LiL' J were helping with the pups. Both boys got attached to the same male. LiL' J wanted to name him Calvin after his best friend. Any time we think about getting a new pet, LiL' J wants to name him Calvin. His African Dwarf frog that died was named Calvin.

No more animals named Calvin please.

Logically, I started calling him Vinny instead. OK, maybe Vinny isn't such an obvious replacement for Calvin, but it made sense at the time. I really don't think I had planned on calling him Vinny forever, but it sort of stuck. My friend called about a week ago to say that a few people were calling about the puppies and she wanted to make sure she knew which male we wanted. I told her it was the one without the black spot on its penis. Now, before you think I'm a freak I have to tell you a story about LiL' J.

When we were at their house I caught LiL' J picking each puppy up ever so gently and examining its crotch. I was about to ask him if we needed to discuss the differences between girl parts and boy parts.

Me: "Squishy, what are you doing?"

Squishy: "I'm looking for my puppy."

Me: "Oh, well, um, why are you looking at their crotches though?"

Squishy: "Pecause I'm looking for the one without the black spot on its penis. That one's mine."

Me: "Ahhh, OK, I see. That makes sense."

So there you have it. We chose the boy without the black spot on its penis. I feel bad for puppies with black spots on their penis. They are picked last.

Look at these faces.



I can't tell which is more adorable. LiL' J has been counting down the days until "Vinny" was ready to come home. My friend called yesterday to ask if we wanted to pick the puppy up today, which is a bit earlier then we thought we'd get him. Of course we couldn't say no. His crate, bed, toys, and supplies have been waiting for a couple of weeks. Since we're leaving for Michigan the week of the 4th, it's good to have him home earlier to work on the house breaking.

Here's J, he's been as excited as everyone.



Here's the last two puppies.



The one with the collar is spoken for, the girl with the white tipped ears is still waiting for a home. That's the one the girls and I had originally wanted. I had a hard time not taking her home. She's just so sweet. She's the chubbiest of all and has the sweetest face. They all do, but she would have been a pampered baby girl around here. I think Vinny's personality is a great fit for us though and if we can only afford one, what can we do? We hae to do the best for the little guy we have!

We're all definately in puppy love now. It's shameful. We have joined the club of dog owners that unabashedly post pictures of their dog, talk about them like they are children, and parade them around to neighbors, friends, family, and anyone else that loves a puppy. Plus the dog is a good learning experience for the kids. I think we'll have some new inspiration for research. Ha! They are so gentle and careful and watch to make sure the cats don't bother him.

I have denied many things, but I've never said we weren't nerds.

Pardon Me

Pardon me, while I figure out who I am lately.

Pardon me, while I try to figure out my place in this life, when so often lately I question what I'm really doing.

Wow, I managed to write something. That felt good. I'm actually opening my eyes these days. For a girl whose blog is titled A Girl in Metamorphosis, I have truly went through about three months of major change. It has left me both terrified, sad, happy, hopeful, nostalgic, grateful, uncertain, and fatter. My heart and mind is all over the place. But, I'm feeling alive again; I'm feeling like scales have been removed from my eyes-I feel like I'm on the precipice of something totally transforming in my life that I can't explain.

Gotta love feel good hormones.

Violence in the Laundry Room

This is what I get for trying to do laundry.



See, there's no point to washing. Every fresh clean load of laundry is quickly replaced with more dirty clothes. Then there's the violence.

I wish I could tell you that I received this bruise due to some gnarly accident where I sound cool and brave, but no, I just tripped over a laundry basket that was hidden by a mound of....well, dirty laundry.

So this is what I get. And it really hurts. It hurts more then showing a picture of my white, pasty, unshaven leg for all to see. Don't think I'm being a baby either, because even though it looks gross, it looked much worse a few days ago. It was practically black and I have a tiny little abrasion.

I suppose I now at least have a good reason for unshaven legs in June.

Puppy Love

Some of you will remember that back in November my kids were trying as hard as they could to convince us to get a puppy. Not just any puppy, but a Boston Terrier from one of our best friends.

LiL' J was especially convincing with his big brown eyes just looking up at me with a hopeful look.

Back then we neither had the money or the time to house break a puppy in the winter. It's important to me to make sure everything is in place and I've seen how hard it can be to house break a puppy in freezing weather. Next to impossible.

Well, we still could probably put the money elsewhere, but that's true of everything. Here's a look at Nika's lastest litter. Tragically, two have died and two have needed stitches after being mauled. They think that Nika's one year old pup from another litter must have done it. Holly is a very sweet dog so the theory is she was probably trying to play with them or bring them to mom for attention.

Here's the remaining four and their mama, Nika.





We've never been "expecting" a four-legged baby before. We've always done rescues. This is exciting.

I'm Not Dead

No, I'm not. And yes, it's I, Melissa. I'm actually posting. To say I'm not dead. To say forgive me readers and friends, for it has been months since my last blogfession. I'm truly sorry. And I'm even more sorry that I'm going to go to bed now without really giving a proper update as to why I just suddenly stopped posting. It has been too long since I last wrote and yes, I have gotten your emails, I have gotten the hint, I know I was a meanie-bo-beanie for just dropping away like that. I realize now some of you think I'm cool people. It's not you, it's me. I just tend to check out of things. My bad. I've just been burnt out.

Do you forgive me?

Do I have To?

Blue eyed kitty
Originally uploaded by Melissa in Butterfly Bliss.

Homeschooling is a lot more work then I ever thought it would be. I have cabin fever. We all have cabin fever and I just feel like sitting around with a cup of hot cocoa and a good book. Or taking a nap.

The boss thinks the same thing. Never mind school work, it's nap time. My feelings exactly, Ash. You have such good ideas.

Happy Birthday Storm!!

The sweet, beautiful, wonderful Present Storm is celebrating her 31st birthday.

Everybody likes a party, won't you flutter your wings on over and wish her a happy birthday? I'm bringing slushies and chips with REAL guacamole.

Because our house is bilingual, we'll give you birthday wishes in a few languages.

From our Mooch, who is fluent in French and is learning Mandarin and Japanese: Joyeux Anniversaire! qu ni sheng er kuai le or Otanjou-bi Omedetou Gozaimasu!

From our LiL' J who is learning some Spanish and Swahili: Feliz Cumpleaños and Hongera! Or Heri ya Siku kuu!

I say Lá breithe mhaith agat! or just plain, Happy Birthday Girl!!

Sneaky Children Go High Tech

I left my email open and apparently my Mooch (12) is a sneaky little schemer. No can do, but nice try. Gotta give her kudos for seizing an opportunity though, having the guts to be so brazen, and being an assertive little thing. Now, I'll just have to make sure she doesn't turn into a hacker and get us all thrown into jail. Here is an email sent by "me" to my husband:

Subject : luv ya

I love you ! You know, Michelle is a very good girl, she's our best child, so i've been thinking,weshould get Michelle a Golden Ritriver!Think about it. But, we really really should!!!Well see you later!!i love you!! Bye!

Melissa

My Perfect Partner

Lost got me back for tagging her so many times. She's always be gracious and so too will I. I was tempted to snag things from my recent Count the Ways post, but I'm that's cheating.

"My Perfect Partner"

1. Loves the Lord.
2. Is honest.
3. Admits when he's wrong.
4. Handles puking kids in the middle of the night.
5. Loves to laugh.
6. Logical and loving.
7. Can tolerate my family.
8. Loves children.
9. Is Sensitive but not wussy.

I'm not tagging anyone, play if you want to.

Let Me Count the Ways

Lately I've been thinking about how great my husband is. Sure, he can't balance a checkbook to save his life (I don't even think he uses one), he leaves tiny scruffy black hairs in the sink, fingernail clippings on the counter, holes in his underwear, he drinks from the cartons, he would rather have a vasectomy then do the dishes, he laughs at me when I'm mad, he aquires many late fees, he's extremely forgetful, he's easily moody, he won't clean the catbox even though he wanted more cats, he mocks Oprah, he drives around on empty in our new van, he thinks almost everyone is lying until proven otherwise, he throws his dirty laundry on the stairs, he rarely likes going places, he swears and calls names like a little boy when he's mad, he doesn't understand that every trip to the store should produce toilet paper, napkins, and paper towels, and he can't dance.

I'm sure there are other things, but I'm being gracious.

Then I had to think of all the ways he's superfragalistic. How do I love him? Let me count the ways.

1. I love that he's known me since I was 15 and he stills gets goosebumps when I touch him.
2. I love that he's witnessed a slimy, crying, tiny human body come out of my crotch, yet he's still super turned on by me.
3. I love that he can buy my tampons without batting one of his very long and beautiful eyelashes
4. I love that he's gone to the store to buy me post baby diapers pads, just to go back again when I informed him they were the wrong kind, yet still he envisions me as a goddess in a thong.
5. I love that he lets me sleep in on Saturdays, even though he's the one that got up early for work all week long.
6. I love that he'll go to the store at midnight, in the freezing cold, if my heart desires something.
7. I love that he'll make me a fantabulous breakfast on the weekend, even if he's secretly bitching that I should be the one to make him breakfast.
8. I love that he reads to my five year old almost every night and tucks him into bed.
9. I love that he watches chick flicks without complaining, in fact, on his own he's seen When Harry Met Sally more times then is normal for anyone.
10. I love that he'll do laundry, even if my clothes don't get put away and he shrinks and bleaches Gymboree clothes.
11. I love that he brings me home chocolate even when I tell him no because my ass is too big.
12. I love that he's a godly man that really truly does care about people.
13. I love that he desires to see curves on my body, especially near my hips.
14. I love that he'll cook for me on the weekends, even if it wasn't his own idea and I hardly cooked meals during the week.
15. I love that he tolerates the light as I read at night, even if only for awhile at least.
16. I love that he'll make me (Ms. Geograpically challenged) directions if I'm going somewhere without him.
17. I love that he calls me from work just to hear the sound of my voice.
18. I love that he knows most of my dirty little secrets and still acts like I'm mysterious.
19. I love that he's seen me practically shart myself during pregnancy, or pass some other nasty alien like substance yet he only jokes about it loudly every three years.
20. I love that he loves babies.
21. I love that he's a strong advocate for breastfeeding and attachment parenting, even if that means he's been kicked in the head at night by a nursing monkey baby performing gymnastics when he's had to work at 6am.
22. I love that he smiles and says ,"I love you", when the kids and I are acting like idiots.
23. I love that he puts up with my endlessly childish pranks and behaviors.
24. I love that he brings me home butterfly patches and embellishments for my clothes, just because he knows I love butterflies.
25. I love that he'll go to Target for crapper supplies and bring me back a Strawberry Shortcake toy because he knew I never got one as a little girl.
26. I love that he buys me gorgeous flowers and jewelry even when the money could be used elsewhere and I'm too frugal and cheap to treat myself.
27. I love that he's accepted my feeding him side dishes for dinner.
28. I love that he'll let me check out library books under his card and gives in to his two book rule, because I have a fine of $17.50 on my own card.
29. I love that he works hard for me and our family, even if sometimes my homemaking seems more like my sitting around all day, which anyone with kids like mine knows isn't possible.
30. I love that he does most of the grocery shopping, a chore that I almost loathe as much as mopping the floor.
31. I love that he's notoriously known for breaking our "no gift" rule at Christmas time and surprises me with even the smallest, yet intensely sweet gifts.
32. I love that he's romantic and saves cards, letters, stubs, and has even put messages in the paper for me.
33. I love that he holds me when I cry letting me use his sleeve as a tissue or when I share my fears.
34. I love that he uses vacation time so we can go to Michigan to see my grandma, who will then undoubtedly share the same stories he's heard a million times, yet he never lets on otherwise.
35. I love that he'll go out of his way to do almost anything for me, even if I'm a bitch.
36. I love that he kisses me when he leaves for work, even if I'm so sound asleep I wouldn't notice.
37. I love that he lets me win when we play yahoo pool.
38. I love that he's almost always supportive of my waxing and waning interests.
39. I love that he always brags about me to his co-workers, even if I know I probably don't always deserve such adoration.
40. I love that he'll sit and stay at the table with me when I eat, even if I that means staying 30 minutes after he's done.
41. I love that he puts up with my teasing with good sportsmanship.
42. I love that he can sew and crochet, even if he's never made me one damn coaster or curtain. It's still sexy.
43. I love that he'll come upstairs when I'm in the shower, just to wash my back. I never let on that I know his true motivation is to see me soapy wet and naked.
44. I love that he lets me crack his toes. Hey, it's not that odd.
45. I love that he grew his hair back for me, even though he loves it shaved.
46. I love that he's usually gracious on the days that I rattle off a million complaints about the day or the kids before he's even got in the door, then he offers to go get me chocolate while I take a shower.
47. I love that he looks incredibly sexy in black turtleneck sweaters.
48. I love that he wants to be with me so much that he drove all night (eight hours ) to Michigan after he worked all day in Milwaukee, just to make it for me 29th birthday. Since it was a surprise we had the doors locked and he had to sleep the rest of the night and wee hours of the morning in the car. That's true wub.
49. I love that he makes me feel safe.
50. I love that my kiss can make almost all his worries and grumpiness go away.

Can I Have a Pony?

Pretty please?

Now, I want to know one thing. How the hell do they get that horse to fetch beer and answer the phone when I can barely get my kids to pick up their dirty underwear off the bathroom floor. Nevermind turn off a light. And I bet they never have to hear the whiny, "why do I have to go?" or "are we there yet"? He actually likes hitting the road.

Feeding him a burger though, now that's just wrong. He's obviously having some sort of identity crisis. The horse totally doesn't know it's a horse. Last time I checked, they don't eat cheeseburgers! Maybe they're giving Patches some ganja or something. Dude, like, the stallion's like got the munchies.

For those of you mothers that can barely manage to keep your kids together without constantly threatening Santa's wrath, you now have a backup plan.

Okay kids, shape up or I'm replacing you with Patches the horse! Now, now. Please, don't send me emails. Of course I'm not serious, but sometimes I wonder.

A Drunk Haircut

It's 4:27 pm. And I'm slightly drunk buzzed. In my defense I rarely drink, so when I do partake of something yummylicious like Baileys, (which is almost never) it doesn't take much before the silly grin sets in. And what do I mean by much? One tiny Baileys and a half. See, this is why I don't drink, and every one must think it's because I'm some sort of Puritan or something, which I am. Not

The Husband is currently being pursued by five different companies. He's thinking of spiffing up a bit and asked if I'd cut his hair.

I have no idea why anyone would want me to cut their hair. I shouldn't be allowed near scissors. My children would walk around looking like they had played beauty shop when no one was looking. Only I had cut their hair. When The Husband and I were first dating back when we were know-it-all teenagers he asked me to cut his hair. I was a little giddy then too. I don't remember what kind of cut he asked for, but I got so carried away that his bangs were a quarter of an inch by the time I was done. He had stubble all around his hairline. He had these little stumps of hair for bangs and when he looked into the mirror I was laughing so hard I almost peed myself. I thought for sure that was the end of R & M for-eva, but he just acted like it was no big deal and kept around and away from anything remotely sharp or electronic. His buddy shaved his head to fix my dastardly haircut and he wore a bandana for months. The funniest part was that even with his shaved head you could totally see how chopped the hair was at the hairline.

So when he asked me if I'd cut his hair, knowing I had a bailey or two in me I finally realized just how senile my 33 year old husband is getting.

You really want me to cut your hair honey? Well sure. Where's the clippers?