When two people love each other very, very much..they make a baby. Or two.

I know I have been MIA again lately, but..nothing. I have no excuses. Well, I have one..sort of. I intended on this being a light-hearted and somewhat humorous blog (which is why the last post is gone..too much dramaz!), and the truth is: I don't think I'm all that funny that often. Others tend to agree. In fact, my younger sister told me that the first time my dad read this blog, he said something along the lines of, "Huh. I didn't know she could be funny." Thanks, dad.

Annnnyway, I have a lot on my plate right now. Some of it is so top secret that my husband won't let me even talk about it yet. If those who knew me did not know that I wrote this, it wouldn't matter. BUT, I have friends who know and like to use my name when leaving comments or writing on the facebook wall. Thanks, guys! ;) Now that I have gone off on another ADHD tangent, I'll try to get back to what I was saying.

Ahem. I have a lot on my plate right now. I know they say that opposites attract, but that isn't always the case. It isn't in MY case. Aside from politics (SO not going there), my husband and I are pretty similar. We have a similar sense of humor, we like the same music, we were raised with most of the same values..I could go on. We also both suffered from anxiety as children (I still do) and both have pretty severe cases of ADHD. Apparently, when two people like us procreate, they end up with one child with such severe anxiety that she no longer wants to leave the house, and another who will ask you the same question 152 times and still say "What?" each time you answer with the exact same answer..all because there is something shiny in his peripheral prohibiting him from processing that answer.

Right now, the only time The Samurai's issue is REALLY difficult for me to deal with, is when I tell him to go pee after catching him doing the I Need To Potty dance and he comes back soaking wet because, on the way to the bathroom,  he turned into Spiderman and his spidey-sense led him to another room where he had to hurry and defeat some bad guys before he turned into a transformer and had to save the world from a tyrannosaurus rex and OH, LOOK..shiny object!!!

My Sugar Boog's anxiety is a bit more troubling. It is awful for her and, pretty much, for the rest of us, too. Even if it didn't feel like a knife through my heart every time I had to watch her shake, scream, and cry in fear, it would still be difficult. If I don't put her in the cart when we are shopping, she holds onto my jacket or pants so tight that it's hard to move. If I do put her in the cart, she has a meltdown anytime my hands are not on the cart..even if I am staring at her. Do you know how hard it is to shop without being able to remove your hands from the cart? It is Pretty. Damned. Hard. She constantly reminds me that I "have 2 little children and you might lose them if you don't hold onto the buggy!" Thank you, Sugar. I almost forgot that I spent months in agonizing pain before delivering each of you. She can't help it, though. She says she knows I would never lose her, but she can't make her brain stop thinking that I will. Oddly, while that really doesn't make sense, I know exactly what she means. So, yeah, right now, her main fear is--getting lost. Her other fears: being locked in the car or other small areas (like bathroom stalls), being left at home by herself, and lastly--she is terrified that one of her parents will be put in jail. Reading that, you are probably wondering what the hell kind of parents we are to cause her to worry about those things. Really, it's nothing we have done. She has never been lost (she has thought she was, when we were actually standing no more than a foot behind her), I have never locked her in the car or left her there alone, I have never left her home alone, and I've never even gotten a speeding or other traffic violation citation before! I've never even been pulled over for a busted tail light or anything. While I'm not 100% sure where her other fears originated, I DO actually know where her fear of police putting her parents in jail comes from. She told me. It came from "that baby show you were watching where those parents went to jail" (DON'T JUDGE ME!). F#CKING JENELLE AND KIEFFER!! It's my fault. I shouldn't have been watching my guilty-pleasure show in front of the kids. I tried to turn it off, but Sugar wanted to look at the babies. I didn't know this would be the outcome. /facepalm

Sugar hasn't had any major episodes like this is a long time. It has probably been at least 4-6 months.This one is by far the most crippling. She just doesn't want to leave the house, nor does she want anyone else to leave the house. She tells me bye, that she loves me, and reminds me to pick her up 538 times before she will walk into the school each morning and her teachers say she recently started having meltdowns there. Tuesday, she had 4-5 inconsolable meltdowns while there. Makes me really want to pull her out of school. It's just pre-k anyway, right? Anyway, right now, she is at my mom's. They had their Christmas get together with my grandmother yesterday and I didn't want them to have to miss it just because I did. I was terribly worried about how she would do, but she is doing surprisingly well. My mom says the only meltdowns she has are when they are in the car. She doesn't want my mom to get out until Sugar is unbuckled--so she can ensure that she will not be left in the car.

We have an appointment with a psychiatrist at the end of January. I made sure to be put on the call list in case of any spots opening sooner due to cancellations. Until then, I am instructed to pretty much do what I can, within reason, to appease her. If she doesn't want to leave to have a playdate at her friend's house, she doesn't have to. If she doesn't want to accompany me to the grocery store and another option is available (staying with her father), we will go with the other option. We'll do this until we are told otherwise (IF they tell us otherwise) at her psychiatrist appointment. It might be a long road, but we are going to do everything we can before resorting to medications. In the end, though, if medication is needed to make my sweet girl feel safe and not constantly terrified, medication it is. I just want her to feel safe and secure again!

Alright, enough rambling, too little cleaning. My house is a disaster and I'm about to go all Cracked-Out 50's Housewife Who Also Suffers From OCD on this bitch. It needs it. Bad.


P.S.
I just realized that I thanked people a lot in this post. Ha! Guess I was feeling thankful. I'm so nice.

Toddlers aren't really "my thing"..

I have decided that I'm not a huge fan of toddlers. Many of them don't talk, they hit, they cannot wipe their own asses, they have no understanding of the word "no", they are messy eaters, they are just messy in general, they hate nap time more than any other age group.. oh, and, they bite. Don't get me wrong, I love toddlers. I just do not always like them. I used to. I used to see a kid aged 4 or under, and immediately wish I could pick it up...without seeming creepy, of course. Now, I keep toddlers in my house everyday. Now, they scare me.


The Hitter: Well.. she hits. All. Day. Long. My other kids are terrified of her. She cannot walk into the room without every kid in there bursting into tears, anticipating getting hit in the face with a car or other hard toy. I have tried redirecting, firmly saying no, time outs...she still hits. She can't talk and some think that she hits because she doesnt know how else to communicate. Well, yeah, she is communicating loud and clear by hitting. She is saying, "I'm a tiny asshole!"


The Pooper: How many times can one kid shit in a day? Well, this kid goes at least 4 times in the short amount of time I have him. I'm not exaggerating. Everything goes STRAIGHT through him. I have a break from keeping him for a while since custody is split between his parents..and thank God. If I had to hear "I'm DONNNNEEEEE!!!" come out of his mouth one more time, I was going to lose it.

The Creeper: This kid creeps me out. He gives me evil glares and is never just.. nice. I try my damnedest to sweetly talk to him and play with him and I just get a cold, mean stare back and a, "NO." He will also kung fu your ass in the face if you even attempt to get him to take a nap. He is completely relentless..he will cry until you finally say, "fuck it" and let him up. On top of everything else, his poop is rancid. I only keep him part-time, but I swear he saves up his shit for me. I can't even double bag the diapers to keep the stench out. I keep a garbage can near me just in case I lose it and puke. RANCID.

The Manipulator: She is such a sweet child. She, however, has some serious, constant demands and follows them up with big puppy dog eyes and a "Pweeeze." Nap time is a bitch with this one. She puckers up and pulls out all the stops. Makes you feel like shit for even considering making her nap. When you deny her requests, she drops to the floor and squalls.

The Baby: I have nothing negative to say. Best baby ever.

In conclusion, I'm an awful person.

Ewww, FREAK!

I haven't posted much lately because I have been working on a few things.
Number 1: In-home Daycare. It deserves its own post, so I'll get to that next.
Number 2: Adult Day Care

When my neighbor suggested opening an Adult Day Care, I still had THIS STORY  burnt into my brain and thought, "Ewww, FREAK!"

...And before I move on, let me just say--the person in that story with the REAL mental disability is the one taking care of the weirdo.
Anyway, she was actually talking about a place where the elderly go for care and socialization during the days when family members are working or just aren't available to care for them. Whew!
After a lot of talking and researching, we decided to do it together. I never knew how much work goes into things like business plans. Holy shiz! When I'm not watching children and even during nap time, this is what I'm working on..phone calls, research, business plan, research, emails, and more research. I really hope my neighbor is better about staying on track with her ideas than I am. If its left to me, there will be a half written business plan or a half built building..I'll half ass SOMETHING major.
Anyway, after a few weeks of all this, I'm not sure where it is going or if it is even going anywhere. Being a housewife just started sounding better and better. Still, that is one major thing that has been going on with me. It isn't nearly as interesting as the adult baby story, so I'm going to touch on that with this picture that says EXACTLY how I feel about the freak. (F being PC, you know you are thinking the same damn thing.. F-R-E-A-K!)

Did I already say that I think he is a huge FREAK? Yeah, total f'ing freak.

Now, off to write my second post about how much I dislike children who didn't come out of my vajizzle.. or, in my son's case, out of a custom created hole in the area just below my belly button.



.

What was I thinking?

Beware: This is incredibly boring. I started writing it about 2 weeks ago, so I dated it for when I wrote it. Yeah, that's how much time I get to actually write.

The lady who has a hard enough time wiping asses, cleaning up after children (and husband), and just maintaining a household in general..has decided to start watching kids in her home. I'm the lady. Today, I'm the lady with 7 kids all by myself. Those of you that choose to birth this many..baffle me. I wake up at 5 am, I take my medicines and go back to sleep for 15 minutes, I then get up and shower. At about 5:45, I get dressed and start straightening the house back up plus sweep..I do this the night before, but it's always necessary again in the mornings. At 6:05ish, I make my kids and the early birds breakfast. The samurai is usually up by now and destroying my hard work. At 6:25 am, I take a deep breath, say a prayer to ask God to help me keep my sanity throughout the day, and then...I open the door. Shortly, lots of little feet are clonking around my den. Sugar gets up, I get her ready for school, and then, my neighbor-whom watches the kids with me (but is in hospital sick this week)-shows up and one of us runs my kids and hers to school.

We do breakfast, ass wiping, story time, outside play, snack, sneak into the liquor cabinet, activity time, quiet time, lunch, wipe an ass, nap, pull my hair out, more outside time, wipe ass, free play, and clean-up. Seriously, the amount of times I hear, "I'm through!!" from the bathroom..from ONE CHILD in particular...is ridic. As much as he shits, you'd think he could wipe himself by now. Another child is only here for 7hrs a week (2 days, 3.5ish hours each day), but I swear, it's the only time he poops. It's the "bring a trash can to the changing area because you might puke" type. Shoot me. He's just not a nice..or cute.. kid either, so I think it makes it worse. Kids are like any other person: attractiveness can totally depend on personality. A not so cute kids can be adorable with the right attitude. Let's face it, not all kids are cute. They just aren't. I keep one (or two) of those kids.

By 6pm, most kids are gone and it's time to really cleanup. I have to do the dishes, cook dinner, sweep, mop, vacuum, clean up the table, do the dinner dishes, and sanitize. Before I know it, it is 8:30. Kids go to bed, I get Gracey's stuff ready for school, wash some clothes for the next day, cry, then pass out. Wake up at 5 am and start all over.

I don't usually have 7 kids. In fact, after this week is over, I'll only have 3 full time kids and one part time. Right now, school is out for Fall Break and I have a little boy who has only needed care for the last month. I kept him until 7:30 in the evening. Whew. Wears me out just thinking about doing it. That little boy is WILD and I hate to say it, but I won't cry when he leaves. I can't handle this many on a daily basis. I don't know how long this lack of sleep can last, but it's wearing on me. I promise to blog more, but it's sleep or blog during nap time and sleep is usually the winner. Now, I must go. A kid needs wiping. Awesome!

I'm 0 weeks and craving a more effective way to raise breast cancer awareness.

This was my status message last night. It had 21 "likes" by morning...way more than I could have expected.

Everyone seems to be playing this game:

Hey!! This is what its about...Ok pretty ladies, it's that time of year again, in support of breast cancer awareness!! So we all remember last years game of writing your bra color as your status?.....or the way we like to have our handbag handy? Remember last year so many people took part that it made national news and, the constant updating of status reminded everyone why we're doing this and helped raise awareness!! Do NOT tell any males what the status' mean, keep them guessing!! And please copy and paste (in a message )this to all your female friends to see if we can make a bigger fuss this year than last year!!! I did my part... now YOUR turn ! Go on ladies...and let's have all the males guessing! .. It's time to confuse the men again (not that its really that hard to do :)) Everyone knows it makes their brains work wonders on what we're talking about!! The idea is to choose the month you were born and the day you were born. Pass this on to the girls only and lets see how far it reaches around. The last one about the bra went round all over the world. So you'll write... I'm (your birth month) weeks and I'm craving (your birth date)!!! as your status. Example: Feb 14th= I'm 2 weeks and craving Chocolate mints!!January-1week Febuary-2weeks March-3weeks April-4weeks May-6weeks June-8weeks July-10weeks August-12weeks September-13weeks October-14weeks November-16weeks December-18weeks Days of the month: 1-Skittles 2-Starburst 3-Kit-Kat 4-M&M's 5-Galaxy 6-Crunchie 7-Dairy Milk 8-Lollipop 9-Peanut Butter Cups 10-Meat Balls 11-Twizzlers 12-Bubble Gum 13-Hershey's Kisses 14-Chocolate Mints 15-Twix 16-Resse's Fastbreak 17-Fudge 18-Cherry Jello 19-Milkyway 20-Creme Eggs 21-Pickles 22-Skittles 23-Gummy Bears 24-Gummy Worms 25-Strawberry Pop Tarts 26-Starburst 27-Mini Eggs 28-Kit-Kat Chunkie 29-Double Chocolate Chip Crunchy Cookies 30-Smarties 31-Chocolate Cake

That's fine, whatever.. their facebooks, their lives. I'm not personally hurt or offended by the silliness, but I am lucky not to have lost anyone to breast cancer or suffer from infertility. So, yeah, I won't be playing. At least, no more than I did--with a sarcastic version. I just don't get it. If you are like me and many others, you saw all of your friends announcing pregnancies, knowing they weren't pregnant, and scratched your head. Later, I got the email and was all, "Ohhhh, okay.. wait.. what? What does that have to do with breast cancer? How does tricking people into thinking I'm pregnant raise awareness? I'm not even 'allowed' to tell anyone what it's about, so how am I making anyone aware of breast cancer?" It's strange.

Have you seen this blog post? It's a good read. http://cgwardphotography.blogspot.com/2011/08/regarding-facebook-breast-cancer.html?spref=fb

Here are my own, personal reasons:

• If my family thought I was pregnant again, they'd probably all be devastated. Not because they do not want more babies in the family, but because another pregnancy could very well end up killing me and, even more likely, kill any babies I became pregnant with. I wouldn't do that to them.

• When I was in high school, I was best friends with "M". Her mother had colon cancer and was always in and out of hospitals for a while. Eventually, she was just cared for at home. I watched this sweet woman, rapidly it seems, lose her battle to cancer. When I would go over to M's on good days, she would call me back to say hello... on bad days, I would hear her moaning in pain from the living room. There was nothing fun or funny about it.

• I have 2 friends, "J" and "L", who are both suffering from infertility. Each badly wants a baby and, after several, several months of J trying for a second child and several years of L trying for her first, neither has had a successful pregnancy. I can't imagine how they feel seeing all the "Gotcha!" pregnancy posts. J not only suffers from infertility, but also lost her mother to breast cancer. I hate to speak for others, but I'm fairly certain that she doesn't find the games beneficial at all, and instead--finds them rather hurtful. I do know for sure that she doesn't like them. The fact that the game has to do with faking a pregnancy just adds insult to injury. Here is another (similar) great post on why this game sucks for the infertile: http://infertility.about.com/b/2011/09/03/im-pregnant-just-kidding-new-facebook-meme-for-breast-cancer-awareness.htm

One of the comments on that article implies that the article is suggesting that you shouldn't even talk about your dinner because someone may be hungry and offended. The f^#k? How does someone get that from the article? I think what it's saying is more along the lines of: If you knowingly have some starving, homeless people on your Facebook (which would be odd, but go with it), it would be flat out evil to be all, "Guess what? I just had an awesome steak dinner in my warm, comfy home!" as a joke.

When you add all of that to the awkward feeling one must get after genuinely congratulating a person they think just announced a pregnancy, only to find that it's a game..well, the game doesn't seem very fun or funny anymore.

I apologize for the fact that this post isn't funny or entertaining..but, you know, neither is cancer. Let's spread some real awareness. Post some links with some real information on breast cancer. Here is one link the has multiple links conveniently pasted on the same page:

http://www.nbcam.org/patient_free_information.cfm

Need more? Let Me Google That For You

Satire:

sat·ire   [sat-ahyuhr]
noun
1. the use of irony, sarcasm, ridicule, or the like, in exposing, denouncing, or deriding vice, folly, etc.
2. a literary composition, in verse or prose, in which human folly and vice are held up to scorn, derision, or ridicule.
3. a literary genre comprising such compositions.

Please keep in mind, many of my posts are sarcastic. I do not actually think parents who harness are sick people. My children had Elmo and a monkey harness. I travel alone frequently and have 2 children very close in age. There was no way I could have survived without them. I can't carry 2 children, I couldn't fit my double stroller in the trunk with my luggage, and depending on 2 toddlers to hold my hands at all times..is unrealistic. I AM the mom who cares about "petty" things like safety and security over looks and others' opinions. Go ahead, give me a nasty look. I'll just tell my children to start barking at you and have the boy come piss on your leg. ;-)

I can't believe my sarcasm was taken so seriously by so many. Maybe I'll start using the sarcasm/  and  /sarcasm tags.

Edited to add: I was not directing my post towards everyone who  dislikes harnessing for whatever reason, just those who judge other moms for using them and claim we are treating our children like dogs.

My kid ain't no dang dog!!

When it comes to parenting, there are quite a few hot button issues. One of those issues is...are you ready for this?? HARNESSES. I have read a million and one of these debates and always end up mentally giving 75% of participants the Are You Really That Stupid?? look. Still, I have learned a LOT from these debates and I'm here to share it with you, bulletin style. Your welcome.

• Harnessing or leashing your child is treating your child like a dog. You know.. with care, love, and respect. It's disgusting. People leash their dogs to give them freedom to walk while also keeping them safe and in a controlled environment. Children don't need any of that. Strap them down to a chair with wheels, it's clearly more humane.
• Parents that harness are terrible, sick people. They have no regard for image and only concern themselves with petty things, like safety. Wussies. If they had a single shred of self-respect for their child, they would remove the harness and allow the child to look like a decent human being. Seriously, there are more things to worry about than cars and kidnappers.
• Not only are these people not concerned at all with image, they also have no concern for discipline. If your child doesn't walk beside you like a perfect angel or if he/she likes to slip his/her slippery, sweaty hand out of yours, you aren't doing your job. You can TEACH them to stay beside you or to hold your hand at all times a few different ways: 

1. LEAVE. It doesn't matter how much you paid for those Disney World tickets or how much it will suck to walk all the way back to the car when you were only a minute from where you were going, when they disobey and pull away or walk away--you LEAVE. The whole family should suffer until your little devil learns his lesson.
2. BEAT SOME ASS. 'Nuff said. 
3. Natural consequences. This works for SO much and I use it for almost everything. Have I ever told you all about the time The Samurai electrocuted himself? He doesn't play with the outlets anymore!! (Put the phone down, it was really just an accident.. don't call CPS!) You know what else natural consequences works for? Running into the road. Kid runs into the road, kid gets hit, kid won't run into the road again. I promise. Works for kidnapping, too. Ever heard of a kid being kidnapped twice? I haven't. 

•  Most other safety devices are approved by most parents. This can be confusing. Cribs look like baby cages with the bars and all that, but they are fine. Same with playpens. Obviously, treating your child like a pet is fine..just not a pet dog. Strollers? Again, restraining your kid like a criminal or mentally unstable patient by strapping him to a chair with wheels is totally cool. Baby gates are fine, too. Pretty much anything and everything that allows your child to safely explore his or her surroundings is AWESOME, except leashes/harnesses.

Moral of the story: I do not care if your harness looks like this..

unless you want to be one of those disgusting, safety-only concerned sissies, Do. NOT. Harness. Your. Child.

Not now, Mommy is hungover..

I never actually said it, but I felt like saying it. I don't know what happened to me when I popped the kids out, but something definitely happened to my tolerance. Mama can't hang!

Saturday night, we went to a little girl's birthday party across the street. It was a byob, so..we did. If you are wondering why there was alcohol at a child's party, well..you have obviously not been to enough children's parties. I drank my beer and had a great time laughing and cutting up. Everything was going great! I wasn't even feeling all that buzzed and was proud of myself for holding my alcohol so well.






For some reason, after the children were sound asleep, the neighbor and I decided to start taking shots of vodka. My husband was there and sober enough to care for children should they need to be taken care of (he just likes to get me drunk & take advantage of me later)..no worries. Three shots later, I'm on the swing passing out! I'm practically drooling on myself as the neighbor and my husband just sit and chat it up! I remember hearing them, but not being able to respond. Amazingly, 45 minutes later, I wake up perfectly fine..like nothing ever happened! I was still buzzed, but fine.






I partied the rest of the night away and then...I. Woke. Up. Holy headache. The nausea, the spinning, the jittery feeling I just can't shake...it was all too much when 8 am crept around and little feet started pitter pattering through the kitchen and into my room. Shoot me. This is no good. What was I thinking?? Vodka?!? Why can't the kids feed themselves? Why is the room spinning? Why are they so whiney today? Please stop fighting! Please let go of me for just a second, I'm already spinning. Stop touching your sister! Oh, come on! I just fed you! You need a drink, TOO?!? Pleeaasseee! Oh my GOD, what have I done?? I am only 25! Not 45! What HAPPENED to me? Get out of the bathroom before I puke on you!!

To top off my morning, my neighbor sends me a text to ask how I'm feeling. I respond, letting her know that I feel like SHIT. She tells me that SHE has already been up, out of the house, and even exercised. I can't repeat my response. It was (half-jokingly) ugly.

Turning scented candles into wax tarts/wax melts...

My blog really has no single specific focus anymore, so just thought I'd share what I've been doing lately: Turning my old, broken candles..or just candles that smell good and would smell better in a wax warmer..into wax tarts. Sorry, I have nothing funny or witty to share tonight. Maybe tomorrow will be a more humorous day.. we'll see.

 

Things you need: Candle with wick removed, clean soup can, mini muffin pan, pot with about 1.5-2inches of water--boiling. 

Place candle inside of cleaned can. Also, after placing inside, pinch the sides of the can lip to make a spout.

 

 Place can in the boiling water. DO NOT LEAVE UNATTENDED. Depending on the amount of water in the can, it may move around in the pot.

Once wax is melted, pour into the mini muffin pan. How much you fill it up should depend on how much you wax warmer will hold.

If you are impatient like I am and want your wax to easily come out of the pan, place the pan in the freezer. Allow wax to completely harden in freezer.

Once the wax is completely hardened, turn muffin pan over onto flat surface.

I couldnt get a good picture of this step, but to easily remove the wax, strike the back of each mold with.. something. I used a pair of pliers I had nearby.

This is what you should get..perfect little wax tarts!

 Label a ziplock baggy to store them in. These are the Orange Clove tarts I just finished and some Blueberry Cobbler tarts that I made yesterday. One of my favorite Blueberry Cobbler candles had broken, and that is what inspired me to make these!

Place your wax tart in warmer and ENJOY! 

Your welcome. 

I originally found these directions here:

http://www.allfreecrafts.com/candles/melts.shtml 

I just used scented candles, obviously.

Big boys don't pee in their pants.

I picked Sugar up from school yesterday and, on the drive home, we have this conversation:

 Sugar: (read in a valley girl voice) "Ew. Ew. Ew. Boyfriends are gross. I don't ever want a boyfriend. Disgusting. Ew."

Me: Why do you say that? What happened today?

Sugar: (valley girl voice again, I have no idea where she got that from) "A little boy wants to be my boyfriend. Boyfriends are disgusting. They are sooo gross." (I later find out that he asked to be her boyfriend forever)

Me: "What did he look like?" (hoping to be able to pick him out of her classmates so I know which little asshole is trying to pick up my baby)

Sugar: "I already told you. He looks like a little boy. I don't like little boys. I like big boys. Big boys don't pee in their pants."

Well, can't argue with that!

Exercise is killing me.

Exercise makes me sore. Why would I want to do anything that makes me sore? I like for my muscles to feel nice and relaxed. I'm a good host. It's just who I am.

Exercise makes my heart race. When I go to the doctor, he is usually a little concerned when he checks my pulse and finds that my heart is racing. It must not be a good thing.

Exercise makes it hard for me to breathe. Do I need to explain why that is bad? You can't breathe, you DIE.

Exercise isn't great for my back. I can't do much bending, no twisting, and no lifting heavy shit. My only option I can come up with is some non-twisting dancing. I have no rhythm and have videos to prove it...or just ask Queen of the Couch. It's not good.

Exercise doesn't give me energy like people claim it will. It sucks my energy levels dry. I need my energy. How else will I care for my kids.

Exercise makes me feel like I'm dying. That can't be good.

I'll come up with more convincing excuses later. Until then, I guess I'll have to get back to doing Zumba.

New Favorite Apron!!

My newest, favorite apron!!

My Favorite Kitchen Utensil: (picture of corkscrew)

Busy Bitches Cookbook aka Lazy Bitches Cookbook: A Banana Heart Attack

This is for neither the busy, nor the lazy. But, whatevs. It would just be filed under "Shit That Doesn't Belong In This Recipe Book"...if it were a book.
Not sure if it's a pie or a pudding, but it's definitely a heart attack waiting to happen. It's so worth it. I whipped this up when I wanted banana pudding, but couldn't find my vanilla flavoring or condensed milk. I just had to wing it. Oh. My. Gawd. Turned out phenom.

Ingredients:

• 1 5oz package of vanilla pudding
• 1 8oz package of cream cheese (softened)
• 1 cup of milk
• 1 cup of vanilla ice cream (slightly softened)
• 1/2 cup of heavy cream (see what I mean about the heart attack, now?)
• 2 Bananas
• Nilla Wafers
• Nilla wafer pie crust (optional, can just use wafers to make it more pudding-like)
• Thawed Cool-whip

Combine first ingredients, beat until well blended

Line bottom of pie crust with banana slices OR line bottom of dish with crushed or whole Nilla wafers, then top wafers with banana slices.

Pour half of the "stuff" you just mixed up on top.

Spread it out, duh.

Top with more Nilla wafers and banana slices

Pour remainder of the pudding on top and spread out. You can top with Nilla wafers and banana slices again if you'd like. I didn't have any room!

Cover with Cool-Whip

Top with crushed Nilla wafers (I like those bitches)

It's going to be really thick if you use a pie crust, so you will have to rig up the lid with aluminum foil..

Set the lid on top, wrap bottom and sides with aluminum foil to cover the sides of the lid and pie. Refrigerate until ready to eat.. or grab a frickin spoon and dig on in.

EFF'ing De-licious.

Try it and let me know how you like it.. if you survive the heart attack.

School Lunch...

is F'ing nas-tay. Unhealthy school lunch options is an issue that has gained more media attention in recent years. So much that I was shocked to see my daughter's school lunch menu. I thought the media attention would have encouraged schools to shape up. I was so wrong.

Here's the thing, my kids would LOVE to have pizza every single day for lunch..delicious, greasy pizza. If I actually fed my kids pizza every single day and admitted to it, I imagine I'd get more than a few "I'm judging you" looks. When the school feeds our kids pizza, or gives them the option of eating it everyday, too many parents think nothing of it. If the kids don't want pizza, they can have chicken nuggets, a corndog, or another fried, greasy food..with fries.

Don't get me wrong, I do not feed my kids the healthiest shit everyday. About 9 times out of 10, it comes out of a can or box. But my kids do get, at least, one healthy meal a day. Fortunately, my kids actually get more than one meal a day. There has also been more media focus on the fact that school lunch is the only meal that too many kids get all day. Shouldn't we make that one meal a little less artery-clogging? It would also help me out in that, my kids one healthy meal a day--wouldn't have to be cooked by yours truly. I could feel less guilty when I crack open that can of raviolis!

Also, I hate to say this, but I'm sitting in the Parent Pick-up line (as usual) and I can count at least 15 kids on the playground right now that do not appear to need anymore greasy foods. I see 8-9 year olds that look like they are on their way to a heart attack. I hope what I see on the playground is not a preview of what our future generations will be like. We better shape up FAST, or it will be!

Speaking of heart attacks and unhealthy food, I still believe in the right to a deliciously unhealthy desert once in a (frequent) while. Later tonight, I will be posting my very own recipe (meaning-I made it up, unless someone else had the same idea and I don't know about it) for the desert I have named...
Banana Pudding/Pie Heart Attack!
You can be looking forward to that!

Undomesticated Housewife

P.S.
I do pack my daughter's lunch 4 out of the 5 school days each week. She is awesome and loves salad, blueberries, carrot sticks, or grape tomatoes for lunch. I'm not so lucky with the Samurai. I'd probably have to fry his salad if I wanted him to eat one. Packing his lunch will be fun next year.

Another random thought: Sometimes, a little sexism is okay with me!

This is regarding me, and me alone. Whatever you want to do with your life, I support your right to do it regardless of whether it's a stereotypical man-thing, or stereotypical woman-thing.

Just now, while on my way to pick up my daughter from school, I drove past some road construction workers. I thought, "What a miserable job! It is too damned hot for all that!" Then, there were the guys working on the power lines. Again, miserable job. I understand that, while men hold the majority of these jobs, women do these jobs as well! What I don't understand is..why? Why would ANYONE want to work in a profession that requires subjecting oneself to extreme weather?? I know people don't always us choose it, it's necessary. I'm referring specifically to those that are wanting to ensure that they have the right to burst into flames while working on a power line. Right now, I'm sitting in the pick-up line, air conditioner on, trying to type this before I melt. People want to work hard, doing manual labor in this stuff?

You know what other stereotypical man things I don't like doing? Taking out the trash. Killing bugs (I've blogged about these twice now, I really hate them!). I even try to push the "but driving is the MAN's job" on to my husband sometimes. That never works..instead, the non-driver is the one that makes it to the liquor cabinet first. This is why women should always go first in things, too..like ordering at restaurants first. "I'll have a margarita on the rocks..double. Oh, by the way, husband, you are driving home tonight, right?"

Anyway, back on track..plumbing--another male dominated field. I'd like to meet the woman that complains about losing out on that job to a man. I'd shake her and ask, "Woman! What is wrong with you?! Have you ever smelled SHIT?!" I can use a plunger when my children have had too much milk or tossed a toy in the toilet, but that's MY toilet. Others' toilets? Um, gross.





I dream of a day where washing dishes is "a MAN's job!"

Another thing..I like being prettied up and dressing like a typical female. I'm not trying to be a man. Facial hair is going to be enough of a bitch when I get older, I'm sure--considering my black hair and all.

I guess what I'm saying is..I don't fight for the right to stab my eyes out of my head or slam my fingers in the car door repeatedly. I don't get how it even crosses one's mind to fight for certain rights. The day I start fighting for my right to use a urinal..is the day you can punch me in the face and call me a douchebag. Sometimes, a little sexism is okay with me!

I don't kiss his ass..

I'm writing this really late. Forgive typos, run-ons, or shit that just doesn't make sense. I'll clean it up tomorrow!

Today, I have decided to address some things regarding military wives. I don't say too much about being a military wife..because I am my own person. I know, I know--my name refers to me being a housewife, so why not military wife? Because, overall, I mostly write about being a housewife. And that brings me to the first thing Id like to address!

**These may be true for many, but I doubt it's true for most. I'm speaking for those of us that are quietly loving military men.**

• Military wives sit at home on their asses all day.

Well, I do..sometimes. Most times these days, I am up and doing something from 6am until 11pm. Yeah, so..um.. you can F off if you think I sit on my ass all day, everyday. I could get a job if I wanted to, but being home with my children as long as possible is more important to me. Besides, I intend on starting school again in January. Plenty of non-mil wives stay at home with their children too. It isn't exclusive to a specific group of women. Also, many women stay home because they move a lot. It is hard to move up very high on the totem pole when you move every few years.

• We are all fat, lazy slobs.

Speak for yourself. I am within my healthy weight range, I have big and fake boobs, and I only go to Wal-Mart in sweat pants every other time I go. Yeah, suck on that. I haven't even seen many fat wives around here. I'm sure there are plenty, but--at this base at least--there aren't anymore than there are in other groups.

• We also dress up to go to the commissary and judge those who don't. We are representing our husbands out there!!

Wait.. what?!? I thought we were fat, lazy slobs? Now, I admit that I have seen plenty of these types out and about. They are typically rank wearers & I'll get to those later..

• We are popping out kids left and right.

I don't know about the majority of the military couples, but we have 2 kids. I thought that was pretty much the norm? We did consider the benefits of Tricare when it came to our decision about more children. Tricare doesn't just cover birth, it also covers VASECTOMIES..and female birth control. I am done, done. We have insurance.. I do NOT have a death wish. Even if another pregnancy wouldn't kill me, I'd still be done. The cost of birth is not the only factor in the decision to have a child. All of the couples I know have a normal amount of children.

• I want a trophy for being a military wife. After all, it is the toughest job EV-AR.

I mean, if you really want to give me one..but, I'd prefer a crown. You could actually just give me the cash. Really though, no, we do not all expect people to kiss our asses for being military wives. It is not the toughest job in the world. It isn't a job. Sure, I support my husband in his work. Isn't that what spouses do? Support each other? Do you get sad when your spouse is gone? I do! It isn't because he is military, it is because he is my husband. He is also put in dangerous situations. However, I am not in a dangerous situation, not that kind anyway. He is the one who has it HARD. I have it.. sad. Also, not all of us get irritable when people complain about missing their spouses because they are working a little late. It isn't a competition. I spent the majority of the first 2 years of my marriage away from my husband, and I still get sad when he comes home from work too late. Other people's problems do not become petty to me.

• Military wives kiss their husbands' asses, because they have the second hardest job in the whole wide world!!

My husband is awesome. He goes to work everyday and bitches about it only at a reasonable level. He provides for his family because he loves us. Still, he has responsibilities at home, too. Being a member of the USAF doesn't mean you are excluded from lifting a finger at home. I don't kiss his ass... I'm not that freaky. Hubby washes his own uniform, he cooks sometimes, he even cleans up after himself on rare occasions. Bug needs killed? Hubby kills it. Trash day? Hubby takes it out. Nine times out of 10, I'm the one needing a massage. And I get that massage.

• Our husbands' ranks are how we define ourselves and others.

What?! No! I do not wear my husband's rank. I didn't earn it and, to the bitches who think you are special because your husband is a what-the-f-ever he is, you didn't do anything to earn that rank either. Blowing him doesn't count.

• We all screw our husbands' best friends during long deployments. All the good wives do. The friends are just being GOOD friends & helping us out, like our husbands asked.

Nah, not all of us. But, uh, thanks for that, Hollywood...and whores!

Some afterthoughts:

No, it isn't hard to be married to a military man. It's hard to be married to me. Really though, it's marriage. It all takes work.

Sure, the lack of..ahem.."intimacy" during deployments, TDYs, and whatnot is a bummer, but it doesn't ruin a marriage. I didn't need to "get down to bidness" to fall in love & don't need to in order to stay in love. The women who cheat on their deployed husbands and husbands who cheat on their deployed wives (or spouses that cheat while they are the ones deployed) are shitty people. They are the same people who would be sluttin' it up outside the marriage with the pool boy or "working late" if they had/had spouses with civilian jobs. Deployments do not drive people to cheat. Whorie'ness does.


I'm not downplaying the role of the military spouse. We go through a lot of heartache and pain..and we sacrifice a lot. However, I guarantee that 99% of us make those sacrifices for love, not a trophy. Not all of us feel some sense of entitlement for dealing with long separations.

I do appreciate the gratitude others express, but no one has to thank me for loving my husband.

Why bother?!

I cleaned the living room spotless. I cleaned the kitchen..spotless. Now, I just stand around with that "the f*#k?!?!" look on my face. I actually cleaned the kitchen yesterday. Like, yesterday evening. Sometimes, I think I must be stupid. I can't think of anything else I would fix over and over and over again, knowing it will be destroyed moments later.

My children have this strange quirk..they have to destroy everything in sight. A clean house just means they get to start all over again. My hubby has a bad habit of setting shit down wherever he is standing. I need freaking order!! Organization! I need things to have a place. Why do I even bother? I'd, obviously, be a much better housewife if I didn't have to clean up after everyone.

(found on Views from the Couch)

You know, I love Angry Birds. I mean, who doesn't? Someone should really make a game for me: Angry Housewives. You would throw things like vacuums and brooms at little cartoon men and children. Each time you peg one, your house gets cleaner. I'd play the shit out of that. I'd play the game rather than actually cleaning the house. Win-win for me! I hope it goes without saying that I'd never throw brooms or vacuums..well, I'd never actually throw vacuums at my children or husband. I'd never throw birds at pigs either.

Okay, enough random thoughts. I think my anger has subsided enough that the stupid has set back in & I'm considering cleaning again.

I can't blog about it.

My Sugar Boog started school yesterday. If I try to blog about it, it wont be humorous and will only make me bawl my eyes out. I can, however, tell you the funniest part of the day.

While walking down the hall, taking Sugar to her room, I made her hold my hand and The Samurai hold her hand. I was already late because I decided to wash her carseat cover and, well, forgot to put it back on. So, I'm practically dragging the kids along in a panicky, upset frenzy. A group of 1st or 2nd graders walk by and start laughing. I think nothing of it. They are children, they laugh and cut up. Then, coming from behind me, I hear it. The Samurai yells, "Aw!!! My pants fell down!" Not quite processing what he said, I keep walking and just glance behind me at the caboose of the train I have going on.. I find my son walking like a penguin, with his shorts around his ankles. I had forgotten to make use of his adjustable waist band. /facepalm

I will also say that Sugar Boog had a wonderful day. She loved it. Dropping her off sucked, but it was harder on me than her.

Though lacking the fine details, I suppose I did blog about her first day... great for her, sucked for me, but had a good laugh in all of it.

Busy Bitches' Cookbook (AKA Lazy Bitches' Cookbook)

[It took me forever to complete this post. I'm only sorry that I was actually busy enough to not be able to finish it in a timely manner ;-).]
I think I might make this a series--Busy Bitches Cookbook. You could also call it Lazy Bitches Cookbook, but I have a reputation to uphold! <<hahaHAAA, kidding. The recipes in this (possible) series are shit I cook when I don't have the time to cook, when I just plain don't feel like standing in a hot damned kitchen all day, or when I am just having yet another lazy day! Today's recipe is going to be Chicken'n'Dumplings.
Be aware that I do not measure. That would totally take away from the simplicity. It's unnecessary. Oh, and it sounds like more work than it is, actually. I make this for lunch occasionally, and the Lord and my Fry Daddy know I do not like to spend time cooking lunch.

Ingredients

Bisquick

 Canned Biscuits and/or Croissants (biscuits turn out better)

Equivalent to Country Crock (or real butter, if you give a shit--I don't)

Chicken Broth 

Salt

Pepper

and

 Frozen Chicken Tenderloins (preferred, but I was out)

or

Frozen Boneless, skinless Chicken Breasts

Add some Garlic Powder to the broth, if you feel like getting crazy with it (not pictured, but I think you can figure it out).

 Put chicken in the pan with some oil as pictured above. Oh yeah, you need olive or vegetable oil.. Crisco even, I don't  care. Turn on medium. Cover with lid. Cook until it is done, flipping once. Let it cook while you work on the dumplings.

Put some chicken broth in a pot.

Add a little salt and pepper to the broth.

Toss in some butter.

Boil that shit. Sit down, have some wine, whatevs. Shit might take a while.

"A watched pot never boils."

I don't know who came up with that, but I have a few things to say about it. One, he/she obviously didn't stand and stare long enough. Dumbass. Two, I would like to thank that person for that excuse to sit my ass down for a minute.

Get the Bisquick or flour..

Put it in a bowl.

Coat your canned biscuits or croissants in the Bisquick.

Pinch pieces off and put them in the boiling broth. If the pieces are too big, no problem. Well, if you don't own any forks or knives and your dumplings somehow come out really hard, then it might be a problem. When all pieces/dumplings are dropped in, immediately turn down to low heat and simmer/

Let them simmer for about 10 minutes.

Add chicken to the pot.

Cover with lid and let simmer for another 10 minutes, and you are done-zo.

Next, I'll be covering the Busy Bitches' recipe for homemade chicken fingers OR the Lazy Bitches' guide to good pizza. We'll see what kind of week it is, first!