For those of you who read this blog regularly, you may wonder from time to time if there may be some embellishment, seeing as my life is something out of a bad redneck sitcom.
Believe it or not, it’s true. The whole reason I started blogging is because crazy stuff happens to me all the time.
Case in point:
I came home from work yesterday and got ready to prepare dinner because I’m all Martha Stewart in a trashy wife beater, cut off Levi’s, and flip-flop sort of way.
I made the executive decision to serve chili in the main dining room.
So, to prepare this gourmet feast, I must defrost the hamburger from the freezer. When I opened the freezer door I discovered this…
Wonder Nut (A.K.A. Ella Bella Bo Bella) has yet to understand the basic principles of science that a liquid (in this case, a can of Diet Coke) freezes into a solid at 32 degrees and thus exploded and made a huge mess in the inside of my freezer.
However, there was a light at the end of the tunnel.
A bright, luminous beacon of light to make all my worries dissipate into happy thoughts…
because I had prepared for this moment….
and had put this in the freezer two nights before….
HALLELUIAH!!!! HALLELUIAH!!!! HALLELUIAH!!!!
(Post Script from previous post: Felix, I have been told, is a boy. I am so blind I could not see his cat balls. Please pardon the mistake.)
My mothering skills are questionable.
My first born was my pet project. She was like home economic class without the text books. My trial run at motherhood. It still baffles me that they let me take her home from the hospital seeing that I couldn’t figure out breast feeding nor installing the car seat. You can imagine the disgust from the nurse when she wheeled me out and realized I hadn’t installed it yet.
Shouldn’t that have been a sign people? You think I need to go home with one of these?
Yes, I know I had taken care of a dog for a couple of years but I knew going into that situation that I had the option of giving him to a good home should I change my mind, plus he didn’t care if I slept all night and forgot to feed him unlike that 7 1/2 pound tittie muncher in there.
Seven years later, I thought I had mastered the art of motherhood, clearly more Roseanne Barr than June Cleaver, and decided to do it again.
The second time around was much easier. No worries of dog hair on the pacifier or dog slobbers, you just learn to worm them both every couple of months. No worries about daily baths. You learn that dirt makes a kid grow and with that Ella is growing like a weed seeing as she only get a “good” one three times a week with a spit shine in between.
You also learn to compromise. I take the oldest to school in the mornings and Rico takes Ella to day care.
Motherhood for me is doing it your own way and bucking against society standards.
For instance, the other morning when Rico had an early out of town business meeting causing me to take Ray-Ray to school and Ella to the babysitters.
Ella decided she wasn’t wearing clothes that day and everytime I put them on, she took them off. ON,OFF. ON, OFF. ON,OFF….until I totally lost my freaking mind and blew a gasket….and….
TOOK HER NAKED TO THE BABYSITTER’S!!!!
I grabbed a blanket, carried her to the preheated truck, placed her naked hiney in the car seat, listened to her sing “ME AM NAAA-KEEE’ and prayed that no one would pull me over.
Upon arrival to the babysitter’s and the unveiling of the the birthday suit, the babysitter reassured me that sometimes a “momma’s gotta do what a momma’s gotta do” and I told her that’s exactly how we roll, keeping it real in Hooterville.
Can ya’ll imagine what kind of hot mess I’d been if I’d been that crazy fertility woman with 14 kids??? America, be thankful I stopped at two!
My parents have become snow birds. They leave the day after Christmas heading south to Tampa until spring. (sooner if my mom gets homesick for the kids)
They have two pets, an old feeble chocolate lab named “Whizzer” and a black and white cat named “Felix.” Since I am the most wonderful daughter ever, I offered to pet sit for them ’cause I’m nice like that.
They decided to bring them down the weekend before they left to do a trial run, making sure everyone adjusted. I should have known it wasn’t gonna go well when my parents arrived with only the dog. It seems the cat didn’t take to kindly to being put in the car and decided that she wouldn’t be making that trip at that time.
So, “Whizzer” arriveed and she is happy as a clam. She loved the girls but most of all loved the fact that we decided that she needed to be an inside dog. Since she had been an outside dog for fifteen years, she was now in doggie heaven.
Next came the arrival of “Felix”. She arrivedwith my mother later that day tied up in a bed sheet. For reals.
I should have known it was a bad sign. My mother opened the sheet and she lit out of it like someone poured turpentine on her ass.
Needless to say, Felix was not happy.
That day was an exploration day for Felix.She was checking us out. I would see her here and there, around the yard,on the porch. But boy was she skittish.
I dutifully put her food and water out, cause I’m a good child.
I called to her and tried to show her some love.
She hissed and bristled.
Then she left.
A couple days later, I noticed Felix had moved up the road to the neighbor’s trailer….to the trailer that has a 2009 Cadillac Escalade.
Seems a little snobby to me.
If I ever catch her, she will go straight back to my mother’s exactly the way she came.
The dog, however, is staying.
Rico and I decide to not make a big deal out of Valentine’s Day this year.
We needed a new laptop for the business so that was our big gift for each other.
We usually like to splurge on a nice dinner at Ruth’s Chris or 440 on Main but with the economy tanking we decided to go to Buffalo Wild Wings and indulge my love of Spicy Garlic chicken wings and potato wedges.
It was a great afternoon until I found out….
THAT THE WAFFLE HOUSE WAS BRINGING OUT WHITE LINENS AND CANDLE LIGHT FOR VALENTINE’S DAY!
For Reals People! I coulda had a patty melt and some hash browns covered, smothered, scattered, diced, jalopenoed, and covered with Bert’s chili. What a better way to show some love to someone than to give them heartburn?
I love me some Waffle House. It’s the redneck altar to the God of grease.
Had I known this monumental event was taking place, I would have been there in my Sunday best soaking up the grease with a smile on my face and sunshine in my heart.
So I’m telling you all now, as God as my witness, next Valentine’s Day I will be patronizing the Waffle House and this glorious event.
I will be MIA for the next few days as I can’t see crap.
I have become afflicted with severe dry eyes. (Stop laughing!)
My sclera are as dry as the Sahara and my vision is nil. (Stop asking how many fingers can you see? I can see the middle one just fine))
Until the Restasis and the other seven eye drops kick in and the newly ordered glasses arrive, y’all gonna have to make do without me.
Soon to be reading Braille
I have some serious issues. Those of you who have followed my crazy little blog know I’m not running on all cylinders and for all you newbies, I’ll just let you know right off the bat, I’m a bit of a klutz.
“Bit of a klutz” is an understatement but I don’t want to be too hard on myself and damage my self esteem. ‘Cause Lord knows I got plenty of that.
Anyhoo, this weekend Rico and I were working on one of our projects, cause were always freaking working on a project and you know what they say, ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES SFM GRUMPY AND KLUTZY. While all my bloggie friends were hooping it up in Nashville for the fabulous Blissdom conference, I was working, working, working instead of socializing, drinking, shopping and having girl time. But that’s a whole different post.
So, I was cleaning up this project and this said project is in the process of having laminate flooring put down. But not all the floor is down….so half the floor is laminate and the other half is this thin yellow foam pad you have to put under the flooring. And under parts of the yellow foam pad are several large heating/air return ducts sans metal grates.
So, I says to Rico while looking all fabulous in my mismatched pink and black construction flip flops, “You know, if I don’t watch what I’m doing, I’m gonna step in one of those holes and kill myself.”
And he says, “Yes, my dearest wife, be careful and don’t do that cause if something ever happened to you I could never ever cash in all your life insurance money in singles and bring home some woman name Lexi to raise your children.”
And I laughed cause I knew he was lying.
With that being said, I walk across the room to pick something up and as I sasshay back across the room, I STEP IN THE HOLE and FALL STRAIGHT DOWN IN THE BOWELS OF AIR CONDITIONING VENT HELL UP TO MY ASS.
I have one leg in purgatory and one leg straight out on the floor in some kind of short bus cheerleader wanna be splits.
I’m screaming and crying and scared to death that my one pedicure for the last six months is ruined….RUINED, I SAY!!!!
So, Rico gets me out and is looking for blood ’cause he’s sure I have cut my coochie off. Praise the Lord, my coochie is spared but my butt is bruised and battered.
Then Rico says to me, “You OK?”
And I tell him “Yes.”
And then he goes on to inform me that if I want to go to the gym I should probably get going seeing as he is going coyote hunting in about an hour and a half.
Now, I have just fell through the freaking floor and he wants to know if I am going to the gym. REALLY???? REALLY????
He thought it’d be good for me to work the soreness out.
And had I been able to get off the floor at this point and time, this is where you all would’ve been reading how I had been incarcerated for murdering my husband. REALLY.
We finally got moved into the new office.
Phones and computers are up and running smoothly. Bid’ness is getting back to normal.
Although we are officially moved in, we are nowhere near finished.
The french doors to Rico’s inner sanctum have yet to come in and decorating is coming to a slow halt due to exhaustion and lack of funds.
Rico thinks it looks great. I see potential…shelves being adorned with eclectic Southern art…a desk with an antique ink well…leather lined books, etc.
Rico likes to think this is where the big bid’ness deals take place.
Notice the flat screen TV, leather couch and rifle in the corner? He thinks that’s crucial for big bid’ness deals.
I think it’s crucial for slackin’.
He spent all this money for ”crucial” things for the office but when I told him I needed to go buy office essentials like art, accent pieces and of all things….A TOILET PAPER HOLDER…he said, “WE DON’T NEED THAT CRAP!”
But I know the truth…THIS is where he does his BIG BID’NESS and that placing the TP on the plastic storage bin beside the crapper is not conducive to efficienct BID’NESS. And God forbid, we don’t have any Chili Cheese Frito’s in the bathroom…your guess is as good as mine.
And with that being said, TP holders are now installed.
They’re ganging up on me.
While doing my daily shopping at the local hardware store, Ella decided she needed to go potty….
in the display commode.
Rachel knew exactly what Ella was up to and caused a distraction so she could get away with it.
When I finally figure out it was just a ruse, Wonder Nut had her pants/Dora panties to her ankles and hiked a leg onto the commode with her shiny, hiney for everyone to see.
People were stopping and laughing.
I pretend they aren’t my kids but then I realize there are security cameras which will prove I brought them there.
We survived the great ice storm of ’09.
Luckily, we didn’t lose electricity and for that I am oh, so grateful. The ice was really beautiful. Everthing was encased in a large layer of ice and looked like a fairy tale.
I was about to put Farm Chick’s mug on the back of a milk carton but I then found out she was roughin’ it Little Prairie style and cooking on the wood stove. She’s so resourceful.
Ella came down with the croupy cough/how in the crap does your body make that much snot/Sahara fever illness. A quick trip to the pediatrician before the ice started got us a snazzy little prescription for cough medicine.
Now, you can all say what you want to…but if you have or ever had kids who didn’t sleep, a little sleepy time cocktail cough suppressant is your best friend. And since I haven’t slept all night for the last 820 nights, I was praying it would do the trick.
Alas, God has a sense of humor.
I told the nurse about the prescription of anti-histamines I was giving Wonder Nut. We see the doctor and get the golden ticket to sandman land and off we go.
Bedtime comes and I give the anti-histamine and the cough syrup and it is at that time that I look at the ingredients on the anti-histamine. They are the same. Holy crap!
I panic and try to get her to spit it out but she has already sucked it down like a Jello shot like a little sister pledge a frat party.
I call our pediatrician (Fabulous) and tell her what I did and how I should have known better being a nurse and all and I’m spazzing out and breaking out in a cold sweat….and she starts laughing. An evil laugh…and says, “You know, this ain’t gonna make her sleep…it’s gonna make her stay up ALL night.”
It was far worse than that. She would lay down and try to go to sleep and then sit straight up in the bed and yell nonsense like, “Can’t find my bologna in the DVD” or “Me pee pee in the Kool-Aid.”
So ladies, let this be a lesson to you. Be sure the nurse AND the doctor know all your kids medications or you will get home and deal with a toddler strung out like the guy at the Banshee party in college when he striped naked, took a roll of toilet paper and stuck it in his butt cheeks, proceeded to light it on fire and jump off the Rugby house. He thought the mosh pit would catch him…they didn’t…and it was horrifying and hilarious.
Those nights are entertaining when your 21 and can sleep all day but brutal when your 36 and employed.