I’m Killing Me

I've been thinking about death a lot lately. Who can blame me what with the death of Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, Michael Jackson, Billy Mays and now Karl Malden. Last night I dreamt that Christina Aguilera delivered my baby in between concert sets while on tour in Japan. Don't dreams of birth actually mean death? It probably also doesn't help that I've been contributing to my own death this week as well. I don't know how it happen but somehow I have a pack of cigarettes in my house and they are rapidly depleting. Can I blame the economy? How about the lack of paid work I have right now? Yeah, that's it. Take my meager earnings and blow it on kill sticks. That's wicked smot. It doesn't help that I have a partner in crime living right in my house either. Just when I think of throwing the … [Read more...]

It’s a Good Morning All Around

You know what's a great way to start a day? First, take a baby that has been blissfully sleeping through the night for the past week and allow them to wake you up every two hours. Said baby is not content at just seeing you enter her room but instead glares at you, flails her arms about and screams as if to say, "Hey, Feedbag! Hustle! Feedbag, Hustle!" Second, add in a Tiny Dictator who awakens at 4:45 a.m. to wet the bed. More screaming and hot tears ensue and just as H, who thankfully got up to take care of that hot mess of problems, crashes back into bed the dog throws up rather loudly into her crate right next to you. The smell permeates the room in about 2.5 seconds and you realize you have no choice but to start the day.The laundry monster you spent all day slaying the day … [Read more...]

News from the Front

Live from the front lines of parenthood: We took a lot of hits this week. Yesterday we suffered our heaviest casualties to date. The night before was long without much sleep had by any of the troops and when day broke we were already exhausted.A rundown:Wednesday night's piggyback ride to bed went horribly awry as TD slipped off H's back and he tried to pull her back up. We all heard the pop and the whole block probably heard the screams that ensued afterwards. One visit to the ER later and she is splinted and wearing a sling. The endless round of doctor visits, waiting on hold over the phone and giving her pain meds has begun. We honestly have no idea what is wrong. The x-rays are inconclusive and the kid is learning to make do using her left hand. She is a strong little soldier. An … [Read more...]

Bugs Crawling Under My Skin? Nope, Just Hormones

Ever have one of those days where you actually feel the hormones pulsating through your body? It is like there are bugs crawling under there or quite possibly your skin is about to jump off your body because it is on fire? Really? You too huh? Yesterday was one of those days. I classify a day like this when the following symptoms occur. If and when three or more of these traits show up on my door step I basically have to just ride it out. Ride it out and tell everyone else to just take cover.1. The creepy crawly skin feeling. Also accompanied by hot flashes and waves of nausea. If you speak to me when this is happening I just may flip out on you in a Tom Cruise scary fashion. Not the fun couch jumping Tom Cruise either. The Gawker displayed type with the nutty eyebrows and crazy … [Read more...]

H & the Unholy Trinity

There is a reason I normally do the grocery shopping in our house. H just gets too fired up while he is there. It takes me about 45 minutes to calm him down after each excursion. I must admit that I often agree with him but once I walk through those automated doors my mind shuts off and I am all about the list and getting the heck out of there in record time. If I can do a weeks worth of shopping in under 30 I am a happy camper. H's top three reasons he isn't allowed to go to the grocery store.1. The beige factor- It gets to me too. For H, it's worse. He will rant and rail against the fact that the frozen food section consists of food that is one color only. Beige. Why? Because it's fried carbohydrates or some type of processed food that sends him into a nauseated state of despair and … [Read more...]

Edgar Allan Poe and Warren G Collide. In my basement.

I am crouched in a corner of the house, my laptop balanced on my knee caps. I figure if I stay in this spot and type quietly enough everyone will forget I exist and I can escape the onslaught of January cleaning that is H.Days. Days have gone by and my house has systematically grown more chaotic and messier with each passing second. Mix tapes from 1993 have been unearthed and dear God must I admit it... they have been played. Cathy Dennis anyone? Plastic margarita glasses from parties that were eons ago rolled along the basement floor as H lugged bag after bag of detritus out of the room. Somehow we still have too much stuff. Do we really own all those board games? When did we acquire that many DVDs and brands of car wash soap? Is that Diet Coke from the party four years ago? Because that … [Read more...]

Michael’s a.k.a. Pain & Suffering in Suburbia

Dear Micheal's Craft Store,Or should I be calling you Crafty store? You suck me in each time with the power to persuade me that I really can bake a four tiered cake with sugared flowers and fondant decor. All done by me and my masterful hand. Ha! Your masterful hand. Like a Puppet Master you hold the strings as I glide slowly down the aisles being seduced by your sparkly paste gemstones, beads, and modeling clay. Your bright and colorful displays of silk flowers lure me in making me feel inadequate when I know that no amount of green foam or designer dish will make my floral creation something of beauty. Each time I go in for one thing only and come out with foam pumpkins (only 50 cents!) and fabric paint. You are tricky Michael's. Very tricky. I dream of weddings gone by that could have … [Read more...]

Witchy, Evil Woman

I would stand back from me today. Just stand back. I'm feeling that witchy, twitchy, evil feeling with a touch of fang. I simply have too much to do and not enough time to do it. There are lists. Lists of people to call, things to remember, bills to pay, work to do, places to go, and actually no people to see thank the high heavens. I should have known that it would be one of those days when I walked into our bedroom, that sacred place, to find dog poop by the bed. Say what?! I know! Dog poop. Somehow I don't think it's from our neighbors dog either. Disgusting as it is I think it was an accident, what H calls a "lost nugget". Choke down whatever you are eating and I'm sorry. I ran to clean that up and on my way into the bathroom I ran SMACK! into the door. The door I closed so T.D. … [Read more...]