Monday's that is.
I mean sure, it's the beginning of the work week but what kind of crybaby would I be when I only work 3 days and I just had 4 days off? What I hate is the responsibility of what Monday's bring.
It takes me about an hour to get back into the groove of things. And that's an hour AT work. Like right now, I could totally close my eyes and fall back asleep. But I can't. I've got about 1/2 an hour before I have to leave. When I get there, hopefully the 2 cups of coffee and the Red Bull in my hand wakes me up a bit. Either that or makes me jumpy....cause I gotta pee. :)
5am wake ups for this track thing with M is killing me! And yes, I know, M's the one who actually has to DO the track at 6am in the morning but the act of rolling over, pounding the snooze button 4+ times and then repeating myself, "Get up baby, you've got lots of stuff to do, make your lunch, let's go," is really exhausting. But I already went into that on Friday, NOT gonna repeat whine.
My husband had to be up at 4am this morning but that was his choice. He's on his way to some new deer lease to sign the contracts for it. From what I hear, and I rarely listen when the word hunting is mentioned, it's a better lease of land. Whatever. Hunting season starts in October, why am I being forced to hear about it in March?
M has a track meeting tonight at 6pm. She told me about it and I elected to say, "Tell your father, I ain't gonna be able to rush home for it." These kids are gonna be the death of any relaxation for me and my husband. We've got soccer and now we've got this track AND choir stuff. I mean jeez, can't a girl plop down on a couch after a day of work. Well, THIS girl is. And this girl is also going to go to bed at 10pm tonight. This is where it starts too. Dinners are gonna start being served at 5pm. Showers are gonna be taken at 7pm. Old fart status will be achieved within the week.
I carpool M and E to track on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays now. Being so early, here's the convo.
Me: Hey E, are you as tired as we are?
E: ::grunt::
Me: My feelings exactly.
M: ::mumble::
Me: No, you'll have to walk home today. Nobody's home to pick you up.
M: ::grumble::
E: I'll walk with you.
M: ::grunt::
Me: See ya later my little track stars. Have a great day!
E: ::mumble:: you too.
M: ::grumble:: bye.
Yah, we're a laugh riot in the morning. Have a great Monday people. It'll be about 1 hour and 45 minutes before I start speaking more audibly without mumbles reminiscent of a monkey. :)
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
Showing posts with label daughter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label daughter. Show all posts
3/4/11
I'm a lover....not a fighter.
Mornings are so monotonous. It's the same thing every morning. I yell at my kids, I yell at em again, I threaten death, I yell at them yet again. I get it, you're tired, school sucks and sleep is all you wanna do. Well suck it up azzholes, you think I want to be doing this too?
So yesterday I was in a coma from 10am to 3pm. Count that as 3 days of catching up from repeating the words, "Get UP!!!" over and over again. Today, I have to do the taxes. Taxes used to be fun for me. I loved watching the refund climb as I added my deductions. Lately, for about 3 years, the refund barely climbs. My husband makes too much money and add me going back to work, this one may just be about 8 hours of praying we don't owe.
It pisses me off when people come out with thousands of dollars in a refund. Jeez, what famous author of fiction does their taxes???
Anywhoo! Today I have a rant. 13 year olds. Even worse, a 13 year old that always has an answer. How can this girl listen to reason but STILL have a mumble or a grumble for rebuttal. I swear, I wanna reach over and strangle the rebuttal out of her. And the arguments are so ridiculous, I sometimes wanna strangle myself for falling for it. And everything is so dramatic. Oh and even better, or more annoying is she thinks she's such a bad ass. I mean, the girl hasn't gotten into a fight once in her life yet she acts like she's the UFC champion of the world. Um......no sweetie. You can't get into a fist fight with your friend's mom or dad. That would be my job, and I ain't gettin' involved. But I swear, this girl's attitude is gonna get me in trouble. My thoughts on that is, "Why me?"
M: ::slamming the door:: I swear, if (name omitted)'s dad doesn't quit being a jerk, I'm gonna have words with him.
Me: What?
M: I already told (name omitted) if he has a problem with me, he needed to come over and say it to my face.
Me: Are you freaking kidding me? Jesus! You do realize that if he says anything to you, which he has a right to now, me or your dad is gonna get involved, right?
M: Good!
Husband: If your mom or I get into a fight with a neighbor because of your mouth, I'm gonna have to beat you.
Me: Hmmmmm, I wonder where she gets it from. :/ Whatever happened to solving problems with a joke and a smile. Why's it always gotta be so dramatic?
And this has been my life since I was 16 years old. My husband was the most hated person in town because he was SUCH an asshole! He ran his mouth first and never freaking shut it. I on the other hand never got into a fight. I probably had a total of 3 people that hated me enough to want to fight me, but I had some great friends that kept me from harm's way. Oh and sidenote, those 3 people that hated me, hated me because of that asshole who is my husband right now. Silly girls. ;) I've tried to explain to the 13 year old the trick to NOT fighting. Being mouthy is fine, but you better have a bad ass friend in your corner, cause I was not meant for being a bad ass.
I don't think she gets it though and I fear one of these days is probably gonna end with a black eye and more dramatics. I only hope she finds a friend like I had. It was a Halloween party of Halloween parties. The girl, we'll call her "Sasquatch" had been gunning for me for about a month. It happened so quick but all I remember was my hair being pulled from behind. The next thing I knew, my bad ass friend had clocked her good, my hair was released instantly and "Sasquatch" was out cold on a kitchen floor. I looked at my friend in shock because it may have been quick, but my life passed before my eyes with the first hair tug. Seriously, "Sasquatch" would've mutilated me. I smiled a mischievous grin and said, "Shot of tequila?"
That was the first night I got sick off tequila....and it wasn't my last. Happy Friday everybody! I've got a freaking 8am soccer game tomorrow for Katie and I'm ridin' it solo. Lord help me or give me a stomach bug to get me out of it. :)
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
So yesterday I was in a coma from 10am to 3pm. Count that as 3 days of catching up from repeating the words, "Get UP!!!" over and over again. Today, I have to do the taxes. Taxes used to be fun for me. I loved watching the refund climb as I added my deductions. Lately, for about 3 years, the refund barely climbs. My husband makes too much money and add me going back to work, this one may just be about 8 hours of praying we don't owe.
It pisses me off when people come out with thousands of dollars in a refund. Jeez, what famous author of fiction does their taxes???
Anywhoo! Today I have a rant. 13 year olds. Even worse, a 13 year old that always has an answer. How can this girl listen to reason but STILL have a mumble or a grumble for rebuttal. I swear, I wanna reach over and strangle the rebuttal out of her. And the arguments are so ridiculous, I sometimes wanna strangle myself for falling for it. And everything is so dramatic. Oh and even better, or more annoying is she thinks she's such a bad ass. I mean, the girl hasn't gotten into a fight once in her life yet she acts like she's the UFC champion of the world. Um......no sweetie. You can't get into a fist fight with your friend's mom or dad. That would be my job, and I ain't gettin' involved. But I swear, this girl's attitude is gonna get me in trouble. My thoughts on that is, "Why me?"
M: ::slamming the door:: I swear, if (name omitted)'s dad doesn't quit being a jerk, I'm gonna have words with him.
Me: What?
M: I already told (name omitted) if he has a problem with me, he needed to come over and say it to my face.
Me: Are you freaking kidding me? Jesus! You do realize that if he says anything to you, which he has a right to now, me or your dad is gonna get involved, right?
M: Good!
Husband: If your mom or I get into a fight with a neighbor because of your mouth, I'm gonna have to beat you.
Me: Hmmmmm, I wonder where she gets it from. :/ Whatever happened to solving problems with a joke and a smile. Why's it always gotta be so dramatic?
And this has been my life since I was 16 years old. My husband was the most hated person in town because he was SUCH an asshole! He ran his mouth first and never freaking shut it. I on the other hand never got into a fight. I probably had a total of 3 people that hated me enough to want to fight me, but I had some great friends that kept me from harm's way. Oh and sidenote, those 3 people that hated me, hated me because of that asshole who is my husband right now. Silly girls. ;) I've tried to explain to the 13 year old the trick to NOT fighting. Being mouthy is fine, but you better have a bad ass friend in your corner, cause I was not meant for being a bad ass.
I don't think she gets it though and I fear one of these days is probably gonna end with a black eye and more dramatics. I only hope she finds a friend like I had. It was a Halloween party of Halloween parties. The girl, we'll call her "Sasquatch" had been gunning for me for about a month. It happened so quick but all I remember was my hair being pulled from behind. The next thing I knew, my bad ass friend had clocked her good, my hair was released instantly and "Sasquatch" was out cold on a kitchen floor. I looked at my friend in shock because it may have been quick, but my life passed before my eyes with the first hair tug. Seriously, "Sasquatch" would've mutilated me. I smiled a mischievous grin and said, "Shot of tequila?"
That was the first night I got sick off tequila....and it wasn't my last. Happy Friday everybody! I've got a freaking 8am soccer game tomorrow for Katie and I'm ridin' it solo. Lord help me or give me a stomach bug to get me out of it. :)
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
7/27/10
Still got nothing....
...so I'll just continue with the story.
Y'all know about my moment but I have somewhat of a gigantic circle of people that experienced their own moments the day M was diagnosed with diabetes. I had warned a bunch of people that morning what I feared. There was a lot of, "Don't think that!" and, "I think it's just something simple." I continued to keep the positive thoughts but I am a chronic Web MD viewer and Web MD was screaming at me what the signs were.
After the doctor said those words, "It's diabetes." he left the room to start the admission process into Children's Dallas. I grabbed my phone and sent out a mass text to my circle of people. I often cringe at the feeling of being behind that text.
"It's diabetes. We're being admitted into Children's Legacy and being care flighted to Dallas after they stabilize her."
How horrible to be the recipient of a text like that. It must've felt like a sucker punch to the gut. I could've done it better but at that moment, I couldn't speak. No words could come out of my mouth.
My poor mother was at lunch and was at Home Depot. She had almost made it out the door but alas the text reached her in the garden department. My beautiful mother just sat down on a bag of fertilizer and cried. Every scenario that I had experienced, she was also experiencing. How do I fix this? What do we do? Another experience was, why is everybody just walking past her? Seriously, my mother has gray hair and nobody stopped to see if she was okay. You gotta love people!
My husband never got the text. This is a joke that will go down in the books. M's dad was at Sports Academy picking up empty drums and loading it onto a truck. He left his phone in the other car and was in reality doing something he shouldn't have been doing on his lunch. I kept waiting for him to storm in and demand control of the situation so I could finally break down. He wasn't coming.
As M and I walked through the hospital, into elevators, I kept checking my phone. I kept pressing the call button to call my husband but I never followed through. I looked at M and said, "I can't talk to him." M just calmly said, "Just page him mom, he'll come if you page him." I think I knew that but I'd already sent the text of doom....I didn't want to follow it up with a page of doom. I did though but I just typed three words.
"I need you."
We were in the car on our way to Children's Legacy when he finally called. I was driving like a lost, old lady looking for a garage sale. When my husband asked, "What's up?" I knew he had no clue what was coming. My heart was already broken but to actually say the words would do nothing for it. I couldn't get anything out except, "I need....I need....I need." That was all I could say. By the third plea, my husband finally got it. "Just say it and send me a text of where you are."
That was my husband's moment. He had 3 drums in the bed of his truck. He was over 50 miles away from us. His wife was on the phone with him barely holding on to reality. My Mr. Fix-it couldn't fix it. In the 30 minutes it took him to finally get to the hospital, he'd seen the text of doom, replayed in his head the pleading words, "I need....I need....I need," and still wasn't where he should've been.
He often apologizes for not being there when he should've. I've never felt like I was abandoned or alone that day. The amount of people that reached out to us and took control of an otherwise uncontrollable situation was huge. My mother finally got off that bag of fertilizer and picked my K up from school for me. My friend G immediately started getting my prescriptions covered by my insurance. My social network of friends continued to lend me their hands or their ears so I didn't feel so alone. My husband finally arrived at the hospital and allowed me a shoulder to lean on. My daughter M remained brave throughout the day when I needed bravery to prevail.
It was one thing that created a couple dozen moments.
My moral of this story? When I see an old lady sitting on a bag of fertilizer crying, I'm for damn sure gonna stop and ask if she's okay! :) Happy Tuesday everybody! I am quite sure today is gonna fly by seeing as it's already noon and I've only accomplished this today.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
Y'all know about my moment but I have somewhat of a gigantic circle of people that experienced their own moments the day M was diagnosed with diabetes. I had warned a bunch of people that morning what I feared. There was a lot of, "Don't think that!" and, "I think it's just something simple." I continued to keep the positive thoughts but I am a chronic Web MD viewer and Web MD was screaming at me what the signs were.
After the doctor said those words, "It's diabetes." he left the room to start the admission process into Children's Dallas. I grabbed my phone and sent out a mass text to my circle of people. I often cringe at the feeling of being behind that text.
"It's diabetes. We're being admitted into Children's Legacy and being care flighted to Dallas after they stabilize her."
How horrible to be the recipient of a text like that. It must've felt like a sucker punch to the gut. I could've done it better but at that moment, I couldn't speak. No words could come out of my mouth.
My poor mother was at lunch and was at Home Depot. She had almost made it out the door but alas the text reached her in the garden department. My beautiful mother just sat down on a bag of fertilizer and cried. Every scenario that I had experienced, she was also experiencing. How do I fix this? What do we do? Another experience was, why is everybody just walking past her? Seriously, my mother has gray hair and nobody stopped to see if she was okay. You gotta love people!
My husband never got the text. This is a joke that will go down in the books. M's dad was at Sports Academy picking up empty drums and loading it onto a truck. He left his phone in the other car and was in reality doing something he shouldn't have been doing on his lunch. I kept waiting for him to storm in and demand control of the situation so I could finally break down. He wasn't coming.
As M and I walked through the hospital, into elevators, I kept checking my phone. I kept pressing the call button to call my husband but I never followed through. I looked at M and said, "I can't talk to him." M just calmly said, "Just page him mom, he'll come if you page him." I think I knew that but I'd already sent the text of doom....I didn't want to follow it up with a page of doom. I did though but I just typed three words.
"I need you."
We were in the car on our way to Children's Legacy when he finally called. I was driving like a lost, old lady looking for a garage sale. When my husband asked, "What's up?" I knew he had no clue what was coming. My heart was already broken but to actually say the words would do nothing for it. I couldn't get anything out except, "I need....I need....I need." That was all I could say. By the third plea, my husband finally got it. "Just say it and send me a text of where you are."
That was my husband's moment. He had 3 drums in the bed of his truck. He was over 50 miles away from us. His wife was on the phone with him barely holding on to reality. My Mr. Fix-it couldn't fix it. In the 30 minutes it took him to finally get to the hospital, he'd seen the text of doom, replayed in his head the pleading words, "I need....I need....I need," and still wasn't where he should've been.
He often apologizes for not being there when he should've. I've never felt like I was abandoned or alone that day. The amount of people that reached out to us and took control of an otherwise uncontrollable situation was huge. My mother finally got off that bag of fertilizer and picked my K up from school for me. My friend G immediately started getting my prescriptions covered by my insurance. My social network of friends continued to lend me their hands or their ears so I didn't feel so alone. My husband finally arrived at the hospital and allowed me a shoulder to lean on. My daughter M remained brave throughout the day when I needed bravery to prevail.
It was one thing that created a couple dozen moments.
My moral of this story? When I see an old lady sitting on a bag of fertilizer crying, I'm for damn sure gonna stop and ask if she's okay! :) Happy Tuesday everybody! I am quite sure today is gonna fly by seeing as it's already noon and I've only accomplished this today.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
7/25/10
Here's a quandry!
I've totally ran out of things to say! I know! SHOCKER! I think I'm going to just tell a story none of you knew. Excuse me if you don't care but until I get my muse back, this is the best I can do.
The day M was diagnosed with diabetes, I think everybody knew that I had already had a feeling what was coming. Call it instinct or just signs screaming at me for months that I chose to ignore. When I took her to the doctor, the long car ride prompted an apology to her for my procrastination. I had to say that I was sorry. I didn't tell her what I thought it was. I didn't want her to worry if I was wrong. I did however assure her that I was sorry and I wasn't mad at her. Cause you see, I wasn't quite ready for the answer and earlier that morning I felt like she was forcing me to get it.
When we got to the doctor and I gave the doctor her symptoms, he and I both knew what was coming. M left the room to go to the bathroom and I remained in the room. I didn't cry, I just sat there like a statue waiting for my life to crack. When M came back into the room, I realized that I had to pee too.
Now I went into the same bathroom M was just in and it had that little steel door you put your sample in. I heard the steel door open. I stood there in the bathroom, eavesdropping in a way. I heard the sounds on the other side of that square steel door. I held my breath waiting for anything. I heard the paper ripping. I heard the cap being twisted. My hearing was working very well that morning. I heard the nurse on the other side of the steel door say, "Oh no. Get the doctor."
My heart broke that moment. I left the bathroom and went back in the room with the biggest fake smile on my face. I stood there by the door just waiting. I had my hand on M's leg when the nurse came in and tested her blood sugar with a monitor. I didn't look at it. I just stood there with my eyes closed, holding onto her knee. I already knew. Instincts be gone, I'd eavesdropped on the worst news ever. I had a secret that was about to be spilled any second.
This was a moment where I didn't know if I should be the one that told my daughter of her fate or wait for the professional to do it. It's like those moments in your life that you'll never forget. Did I want M to remember this as coming from me or with me just standing beside her when the doctor told her? I didn't want to be a part of this moment. I couldn't be the one. I wasn't.
When the doctor came in and looked at me, I just closed my eyes again when he started to speak. "It's diabetes."
That was my moment. It was basically an hour of moments that I wish never happened. I pick through that day and try to figure out how I could've done those moments better or differently. If there was any moment I wouldn't change, it would be the one where I gave M a hug and said, "I'm sorry."
Happy Monday??? :) Yah, it's a happy Monday. I hope you all have a fantastic day.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
The day M was diagnosed with diabetes, I think everybody knew that I had already had a feeling what was coming. Call it instinct or just signs screaming at me for months that I chose to ignore. When I took her to the doctor, the long car ride prompted an apology to her for my procrastination. I had to say that I was sorry. I didn't tell her what I thought it was. I didn't want her to worry if I was wrong. I did however assure her that I was sorry and I wasn't mad at her. Cause you see, I wasn't quite ready for the answer and earlier that morning I felt like she was forcing me to get it.
When we got to the doctor and I gave the doctor her symptoms, he and I both knew what was coming. M left the room to go to the bathroom and I remained in the room. I didn't cry, I just sat there like a statue waiting for my life to crack. When M came back into the room, I realized that I had to pee too.
Now I went into the same bathroom M was just in and it had that little steel door you put your sample in. I heard the steel door open. I stood there in the bathroom, eavesdropping in a way. I heard the sounds on the other side of that square steel door. I held my breath waiting for anything. I heard the paper ripping. I heard the cap being twisted. My hearing was working very well that morning. I heard the nurse on the other side of the steel door say, "Oh no. Get the doctor."
My heart broke that moment. I left the bathroom and went back in the room with the biggest fake smile on my face. I stood there by the door just waiting. I had my hand on M's leg when the nurse came in and tested her blood sugar with a monitor. I didn't look at it. I just stood there with my eyes closed, holding onto her knee. I already knew. Instincts be gone, I'd eavesdropped on the worst news ever. I had a secret that was about to be spilled any second.
This was a moment where I didn't know if I should be the one that told my daughter of her fate or wait for the professional to do it. It's like those moments in your life that you'll never forget. Did I want M to remember this as coming from me or with me just standing beside her when the doctor told her? I didn't want to be a part of this moment. I couldn't be the one. I wasn't.
When the doctor came in and looked at me, I just closed my eyes again when he started to speak. "It's diabetes."
That was my moment. It was basically an hour of moments that I wish never happened. I pick through that day and try to figure out how I could've done those moments better or differently. If there was any moment I wouldn't change, it would be the one where I gave M a hug and said, "I'm sorry."
Happy Monday??? :) Yah, it's a happy Monday. I hope you all have a fantastic day.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
7/20/10
I think it's gonna rain.
You ever notice that when it rains it freaking pours when you least need it?? God help me, I'm in the middle of a shit storm and there ain't nothing I can do about it. It has nothing to do with anything but life and money. So the best way I can get through this is to try to find the funny.
Here it goes!
Ethan is doing great. His surgery went very well and unfortunately for him...and I, I know a bit too much about his "no-no square." And in honor of Ethan and trying to lighten his unrunnable spirits, when he came to the door this morning, I answered it in a towel. God, I'm going to hell but for some reason, the peephole is blocked by a piece of paper. What did the paper say?
"Give God a chance."
Thanks, maybe another day.
Yesterday was K's last day of futsol. Her daddy went and I prayed she'd have a good game. She did. Oh god, I love to watch her play. Being me however, I just wanna watch her play. The parent's of the other girls on the team, please don't talk to me. I'm cheering for my soccer stud. So this guy, we'll call him "Buff." I have no idea what his name is but "Buff" seems to fit the persona. Not cause he's actually buff but because he wears t-shirts the size my 8 year old wears. Seriously? Your shirt being tight doesn't make you look buff. It makes you look like you washed your shirt in hot water too many times.
Buff: Oh man, K was on it tonight! (He talks REALLY REALLY loud too)
Me: It was a good game.
Buff: Good game? Oh honey, that's the understatement of the world right there! That was ridiculous!!
Me: Well, I'm just glad this is over. I'm ready for outdoor soccer already.
Buff: Oh I've heard about you alright.
Me: Oh yeah? I'm famous huh? I am a bit of a screamer but it's really just cheering.
Buff: No, I'm talking about the tube tops. Can't wait.
Me: Oh, the tube tops? Yah, I don't like tan lines. What's your excuse for that outfit?
Buff: Huh?
Husband: We'll see ya at practice tomorrow! (He's literally pulling me with all his strength at this point)
Me: Um....arm socket....need use of my arm.
Husband: I should kick his ass for being a douchebag but damn Jean, you sure know how to castrate a man!
Me: His shirt's too tight. His brain doesn't have enough oxygen to understand what I said.
Today at soccer practice? My husband decided to go and leave me at home.
Text from husband: That guy is wearing an over sized shirt today. It looks like it would fit a grizzly bear.
Me: He prolly just bought it. Hasn't had time to wash it 3,000 times in hot water yet.
Text from husband: No, I think your verbal castration clicked. He refuses to look at me.
Yah, that's the best I got for funny. I hope you all had a great Tuesday! Mine is about to be called. I'm so ready for this shitstorm of bills to STOP already! Momma needs a vacation but can't afford it. See y'all tomorrow!
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
Here it goes!
Ethan is doing great. His surgery went very well and unfortunately for him...and I, I know a bit too much about his "no-no square." And in honor of Ethan and trying to lighten his unrunnable spirits, when he came to the door this morning, I answered it in a towel. God, I'm going to hell but for some reason, the peephole is blocked by a piece of paper. What did the paper say?
"Give God a chance."
Thanks, maybe another day.
Yesterday was K's last day of futsol. Her daddy went and I prayed she'd have a good game. She did. Oh god, I love to watch her play. Being me however, I just wanna watch her play. The parent's of the other girls on the team, please don't talk to me. I'm cheering for my soccer stud. So this guy, we'll call him "Buff." I have no idea what his name is but "Buff" seems to fit the persona. Not cause he's actually buff but because he wears t-shirts the size my 8 year old wears. Seriously? Your shirt being tight doesn't make you look buff. It makes you look like you washed your shirt in hot water too many times.
Buff: Oh man, K was on it tonight! (He talks REALLY REALLY loud too)
Me: It was a good game.
Buff: Good game? Oh honey, that's the understatement of the world right there! That was ridiculous!!
Me: Well, I'm just glad this is over. I'm ready for outdoor soccer already.
Buff: Oh I've heard about you alright.
Me: Oh yeah? I'm famous huh? I am a bit of a screamer but it's really just cheering.
Buff: No, I'm talking about the tube tops. Can't wait.
Me: Oh, the tube tops? Yah, I don't like tan lines. What's your excuse for that outfit?
Buff: Huh?
Husband: We'll see ya at practice tomorrow! (He's literally pulling me with all his strength at this point)
Me: Um....arm socket....need use of my arm.
Husband: I should kick his ass for being a douchebag but damn Jean, you sure know how to castrate a man!
Me: His shirt's too tight. His brain doesn't have enough oxygen to understand what I said.
Today at soccer practice? My husband decided to go and leave me at home.
Text from husband: That guy is wearing an over sized shirt today. It looks like it would fit a grizzly bear.
Me: He prolly just bought it. Hasn't had time to wash it 3,000 times in hot water yet.
Text from husband: No, I think your verbal castration clicked. He refuses to look at me.
Yah, that's the best I got for funny. I hope you all had a great Tuesday! Mine is about to be called. I'm so ready for this shitstorm of bills to STOP already! Momma needs a vacation but can't afford it. See y'all tomorrow!
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
6/8/10
Oh Glorious Day Off.
I have the day off today. Going back to work was a welcome adventure. It took my mind off the constant counting of carbs and the in my face worry about M. Now of course I looked at the clock whenever the time allowed to wonder if she had her snack or tested her blood sugar, but luckily for her, I wasn't right there nagging her about it.
With going back to work, I haven't lost touch with the modern annoyances of a pharmacy. The customers that call and drag on about what the hell they want. My daughter has a new saying for that. "Spit it out Bella!" You know, from Twilight! Bella always stuttered when she was upset. Yah, I am constantly thinking, "Spit it out Bella!" I mean, how hard is it to say when I say, "Target pharmacy, this is Jean," what exactly that you want. No, instead I get, "Uh, um, er, I, um, I." It takes all my energy not to reach through that phone and strangle them.
Even worse? I actually get to see these people face to face! They come in and they're just as annoying. Oh! And then they complain about the price AFTER I rang them up and they paid for it already!
With being gone for over a week, I'm still being blamed for stupid shit. I've got the best comeback though. "I don't know. I was home taking care of my daughter when that cluster fuck apparently happened!" You should've seen the look on my bosses, Dennis Hopper's face when that left my lips. It was fantastic! There's this thing we do at the pharmacy that's called returning to stock. If a prescription isn't picked up over a week, we need to clear the bin of it. You credit return it and black out the name and prescription number BEFORE putting the bottle back on the shelf. Well, somebody didn't do that step and one of the techs caught it. Did she just black out the name? No! She saved it to show Dennis Hopper. Why in god's name would she do that? I haven't a freaking clue.
In doing that, she unleashed a pop quiz of pop quizzes on how to return to stock. That's what I'm talking about. There is no teamwork here. There is only a game of who can get the finger pointed at them and get told that they are WRONG. What this tech didn't realize is, she potentially got one of her friend's in trouble. Not me! The other tech. Uh oh! Maybe you should just keep your mouth shut next time huh?
Now here is where I'm going to digress. Upon returning to work, I have a new respect for where I work. I have a new respect for the other techs. They stepped up when I needed them too and in my opinion, I haven't been there long enough for them to step up. But they did and I will forever appreciate that. I don't pretend to understand the constant finger pointing but I only work two days a week so I don't have to. My only job is to come to work and do my job the best that I can. I can do that.
Dennis Hopper: It's a mess over here.
Me: Jeez, it was clean when I walked away. What did you do?
Dennis Hopper: I just did the overrides.
Me: ....and decided to run the labels. Just do the overrides next time and keep your fingers off my stuff.
Dennis Hopper: I was just trying to help.
Me: How is screwing with my labels, then complaining about how messy it is helping?
Dennis Hopper: Are you using the prioritizer?
Me: I'm sorry, did you just say prioritizer?
Dennis Hopper: Sorry.
Me: Seriously, move along now. There's gotta be a report you need to run or something. Go...shoo!
Dennis Hopper: I can honestly say since hiring you, the abuse I get has multiplied.
Me: Seriously, why are you still standing here?
Yes people, I love work. It's a welcome change. Have a great Tuesday!
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
With going back to work, I haven't lost touch with the modern annoyances of a pharmacy. The customers that call and drag on about what the hell they want. My daughter has a new saying for that. "Spit it out Bella!" You know, from Twilight! Bella always stuttered when she was upset. Yah, I am constantly thinking, "Spit it out Bella!" I mean, how hard is it to say when I say, "Target pharmacy, this is Jean," what exactly that you want. No, instead I get, "Uh, um, er, I, um, I." It takes all my energy not to reach through that phone and strangle them.
Even worse? I actually get to see these people face to face! They come in and they're just as annoying. Oh! And then they complain about the price AFTER I rang them up and they paid for it already!
With being gone for over a week, I'm still being blamed for stupid shit. I've got the best comeback though. "I don't know. I was home taking care of my daughter when that cluster fuck apparently happened!" You should've seen the look on my bosses, Dennis Hopper's face when that left my lips. It was fantastic! There's this thing we do at the pharmacy that's called returning to stock. If a prescription isn't picked up over a week, we need to clear the bin of it. You credit return it and black out the name and prescription number BEFORE putting the bottle back on the shelf. Well, somebody didn't do that step and one of the techs caught it. Did she just black out the name? No! She saved it to show Dennis Hopper. Why in god's name would she do that? I haven't a freaking clue.
In doing that, she unleashed a pop quiz of pop quizzes on how to return to stock. That's what I'm talking about. There is no teamwork here. There is only a game of who can get the finger pointed at them and get told that they are WRONG. What this tech didn't realize is, she potentially got one of her friend's in trouble. Not me! The other tech. Uh oh! Maybe you should just keep your mouth shut next time huh?
Now here is where I'm going to digress. Upon returning to work, I have a new respect for where I work. I have a new respect for the other techs. They stepped up when I needed them too and in my opinion, I haven't been there long enough for them to step up. But they did and I will forever appreciate that. I don't pretend to understand the constant finger pointing but I only work two days a week so I don't have to. My only job is to come to work and do my job the best that I can. I can do that.
Dennis Hopper: It's a mess over here.
Me: Jeez, it was clean when I walked away. What did you do?
Dennis Hopper: I just did the overrides.
Me: ....and decided to run the labels. Just do the overrides next time and keep your fingers off my stuff.
Dennis Hopper: I was just trying to help.
Me: How is screwing with my labels, then complaining about how messy it is helping?
Dennis Hopper: Are you using the prioritizer?
Me: I'm sorry, did you just say prioritizer?
Dennis Hopper: Sorry.
Me: Seriously, move along now. There's gotta be a report you need to run or something. Go...shoo!
Dennis Hopper: I can honestly say since hiring you, the abuse I get has multiplied.
Me: Seriously, why are you still standing here?
Yes people, I love work. It's a welcome change. Have a great Tuesday!
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
6/4/10
Schools OUT!
Am I the only parent that loves when school is out? I don't think I am but I know a lot of people that like the schedule of school. I like a schedule, don't get me wrong. Shit, my life is a freaking schedule now. But there is nothing sweeter than silence in the morning. There is no need to yell out, "Get UP!" Not once have I said the sentence, "Hurry UP!"
Okay, reality check. In about a month, I'm probably going to post a blog about how I hate summer because the kids have said, "I'm bored. There's nothing to do." Granted, with the kids being older, they can pretty much find ways to occupy their bored times in the form of some technological device. That's what I do when I'm bored. {{dirty thought}}
I'm so incredibly exhausted. I'm so tired, that on a regular basis, I act drunk because my mind is so exhausted. No, I'm really not drunk....I swear. I don't remember things I should remember. I don't recognize people that I should recognize. I say things that don't make sense. And lastly, my writing is kind of suffering too. And don't think I don't sleep. Oh, I sleep alright. It's just even in my sleep, my mind is buzzing. I dream of diabetes. I dream of numbers. I dream of syringes. I dream of expired insulin. I dream of over feeding M with french fries. When I wake up, I feel like I've ran a marathon...well, a 5K cause I'll never be in shape enough to run a marathon.
Because I'm so exhausted, my social skills are suffering. I don't have the energy to be a social butterfly. I don't even have the energy to be a hermit. And sure, there are little glimpses of who I used to be here and there but the glimpses are fleeting.
Today, I'm going back to work. I'm a little worried about M but there's nothing I can do. My mother, bless her heart, told me to quit. Thanks mom. That's the last thing you should tell somebody. I know though, she's thinking with what happened to M, I need to focus all my energy on her. I know, I get that but I truly don't have anymore energy that I'm already giving her. You see, when I sleep, I'm thinking about it. When I'm awake, I'm thinking about it. Watching TV, every other commercial is about a meter or diabetes. Reading a magazine, every 5 pages is an advertisement for a glucose meter. It's freaking everywhere! I'm not in lala land, trying to avoid the issue. Trust me, my energy is all on this.
So today, I hope to discover at work that putting another task in front of me will make me relax. And I know it's weird to think that a busy pharmacy will be relaxing but hey, a girl can dream yanno? I know that I'm going to look at the clock today and wonder if M had her snack, or what her blood sugar was, or if she ate lunch but even with that....at least my energy will be distributed among other things too.
I'm fooling myself, aren't I? Have a great Friday people! I'll see you all on Monday, bright and early!
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
Okay, reality check. In about a month, I'm probably going to post a blog about how I hate summer because the kids have said, "I'm bored. There's nothing to do." Granted, with the kids being older, they can pretty much find ways to occupy their bored times in the form of some technological device. That's what I do when I'm bored. {{dirty thought}}
I'm so incredibly exhausted. I'm so tired, that on a regular basis, I act drunk because my mind is so exhausted. No, I'm really not drunk....I swear. I don't remember things I should remember. I don't recognize people that I should recognize. I say things that don't make sense. And lastly, my writing is kind of suffering too. And don't think I don't sleep. Oh, I sleep alright. It's just even in my sleep, my mind is buzzing. I dream of diabetes. I dream of numbers. I dream of syringes. I dream of expired insulin. I dream of over feeding M with french fries. When I wake up, I feel like I've ran a marathon...well, a 5K cause I'll never be in shape enough to run a marathon.
Because I'm so exhausted, my social skills are suffering. I don't have the energy to be a social butterfly. I don't even have the energy to be a hermit. And sure, there are little glimpses of who I used to be here and there but the glimpses are fleeting.
Today, I'm going back to work. I'm a little worried about M but there's nothing I can do. My mother, bless her heart, told me to quit. Thanks mom. That's the last thing you should tell somebody. I know though, she's thinking with what happened to M, I need to focus all my energy on her. I know, I get that but I truly don't have anymore energy that I'm already giving her. You see, when I sleep, I'm thinking about it. When I'm awake, I'm thinking about it. Watching TV, every other commercial is about a meter or diabetes. Reading a magazine, every 5 pages is an advertisement for a glucose meter. It's freaking everywhere! I'm not in lala land, trying to avoid the issue. Trust me, my energy is all on this.
So today, I hope to discover at work that putting another task in front of me will make me relax. And I know it's weird to think that a busy pharmacy will be relaxing but hey, a girl can dream yanno? I know that I'm going to look at the clock today and wonder if M had her snack, or what her blood sugar was, or if she ate lunch but even with that....at least my energy will be distributed among other things too.
I'm fooling myself, aren't I? Have a great Friday people! I'll see you all on Monday, bright and early!
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
6/3/10
Sorry I was Absent Yesterday. :(
My husband and I had a busy day yesterday. We had our first class. It was called English Diabetes 101. It was basically a refresher course of sorts from last week but I got a lot more out of it. My husband? Yah, he would've rather been home sleeping. I think it's the idea that we have to be "taught" how to take care of OUR child that he's resenting. He doesn't quite get that we actually need help now understanding. He's just looking at it like a man being told he's WRONG!
However, in sitting with a man that really didn't want to be there, I did laugh a bit more than I have in the last week. Laughing to me is almost surprising. It's like when someone dies and the first time you laugh, it surprises you and you think, "Am I allowed to laugh yet?" The answer is yes, you are allowed to laugh. You are allowed to cry and most important, whatever emotion you're having, embrace it.
So we had four sets of people in the class. We had the over protective mom that is really pissed off that diabetes has changed her life. (I totally relate to this woman but I'm not as bitchy about it.) SHOCKER! We had the quiet mom and grandmother that doesn't quite understand this disease and feel sad for their son because he was diagnosed on his 6th birthday. (Yah, that one broke my heart.) We had the couple with a 5 year old. The mom was more understanding of the disease but the dad was desperately trying to appear like he got it MORE! (He had a Northeastern accent that boomed throughout the conference room. Highly annoyed my husband.) And finally there was me and my husband. The couple that complimented each other. My husband with the look of, "When's lunch?" Me with the eye rolls of, "God please don't let him embarrass me."
Turns out, we were the misfits of the class. Go us! The question being asked by the other sets were a little scary. We were the most recently diagnosed family and their questions made us feel like we ruled! Of course, I learned a lot and left feeling like life isn't really that difficult if you follow the plan. I had to get that out because when you see the conversations my husband and I had...it may not seem like we were listening.
Husband: This is ridiculous!
Me: Oh pipe down, it's lunch time.
Husband: I hope they ask us to critique this class because I've got some things to say.
Me: Oh good lord, what?
Husband: Um....like if you say lunch is at 11:30am...maybe you should send us to lunch at 11:30!!!
Me: It's. 11:40am.
Husband: Again, if we're in a class about abiding by a diabetes schedule, they should prolly abide by a schedule too.
Me: I didn't realize you were diabetic too.
Husband: Oh shut up....I'm freaking starving.
Me: If I give you my moon pie, will YOU shut up?
Husband: I love how they're allowing us to go to lunch. Are they paying us to come to this class?
Me: I wish I brought my earphones so I wouldn't have to listen to your bitching at lunch.
Husband: Are you really giving me your moon pie?
Me: ::sigh:: If you quite whinebaggin, you may have my moon pie. :)
After going back after lunch, he conveniently forgot about the "No Whinebaggin" rule.
Husband: These freaking chairs are uncomfortable.
Me: Would you rather have diabetes for the rest of your life or sit in these chairs for 6 hours?
Husband: Hmmmmmmmm, tough call. I mean, really, it's a hard decision seeing as I've already been sitting in them for 3 hours.
Me: You're an idiot.
Husband: No, I'm just freaking uncomfortable in these chairs! How come the teacher gets a cushioned chair?
Me: I don't freaking know. Seriously, shut up.
Husband: I'm so gonna steal it.
Me: Why do you insist of making us the most hated parents in the room?
Husband: How's me needing a cushion for my ass make me hated?
::He totally switched the chairs. Then when he sat down, he moved his shirt so they would see his gun and badge::
Me: You're kidding, right?
Husband: Nope! I dare her to take it back.
She didn't but she noticed her chair was missing.
And finally, class was almost over. We could see the traffic on the highway! So ready to say goodbye to the hospital. Mr. Northeastern Accent decides it was time to start asking questions. I wish I could've got a picture but the look on my husband's face made me pigsnort. He looked like he was going to kill someone...and we knew who he wanted to kill.
Me: What are you thinking right now? ::snort::
Husband: Me? Oh that I wanna kick this guy's ass.
Me: I know, I could feel it. The air around me smelled like smoke and heavier.
Husband: I don't think it was a good idea to bring my gun.
Me: Oh shut up!
Husband: No seriously, this guy needs an ass whooping. I'm hungry again. You got any snacks in that bag of tricks of yours?
Me: I have some low carb fruit snacks.
Husband: SCORE!
::crackle crackle shake shake chomp chomp::
Husband: Oh ugh, these taste like the inside of a monkey's ass.
Me: I swear, I'm gonna move.
Husband: ::whispering:: But they really do!
Me: Your over exageration of the yuck meter on those is ridiculous. A monkey's ass?
Husband: I wouldn't even share em with Mister McI talk too much....they're that bad.
Me: I have a shortbread cookie but it's carb free and I'm afraid of the next analogy.
And then it was over. We came home and life returned to normal. Or as normal as it can be. Have a great Thursday people. I missed you yesterday!
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
However, in sitting with a man that really didn't want to be there, I did laugh a bit more than I have in the last week. Laughing to me is almost surprising. It's like when someone dies and the first time you laugh, it surprises you and you think, "Am I allowed to laugh yet?" The answer is yes, you are allowed to laugh. You are allowed to cry and most important, whatever emotion you're having, embrace it.
So we had four sets of people in the class. We had the over protective mom that is really pissed off that diabetes has changed her life. (I totally relate to this woman but I'm not as bitchy about it.) SHOCKER! We had the quiet mom and grandmother that doesn't quite understand this disease and feel sad for their son because he was diagnosed on his 6th birthday. (Yah, that one broke my heart.) We had the couple with a 5 year old. The mom was more understanding of the disease but the dad was desperately trying to appear like he got it MORE! (He had a Northeastern accent that boomed throughout the conference room. Highly annoyed my husband.) And finally there was me and my husband. The couple that complimented each other. My husband with the look of, "When's lunch?" Me with the eye rolls of, "God please don't let him embarrass me."
Turns out, we were the misfits of the class. Go us! The question being asked by the other sets were a little scary. We were the most recently diagnosed family and their questions made us feel like we ruled! Of course, I learned a lot and left feeling like life isn't really that difficult if you follow the plan. I had to get that out because when you see the conversations my husband and I had...it may not seem like we were listening.
Husband: This is ridiculous!
Me: Oh pipe down, it's lunch time.
Husband: I hope they ask us to critique this class because I've got some things to say.
Me: Oh good lord, what?
Husband: Um....like if you say lunch is at 11:30am...maybe you should send us to lunch at 11:30!!!
Me: It's. 11:40am.
Husband: Again, if we're in a class about abiding by a diabetes schedule, they should prolly abide by a schedule too.
Me: I didn't realize you were diabetic too.
Husband: Oh shut up....I'm freaking starving.
Me: If I give you my moon pie, will YOU shut up?
Husband: I love how they're allowing us to go to lunch. Are they paying us to come to this class?
Me: I wish I brought my earphones so I wouldn't have to listen to your bitching at lunch.
Husband: Are you really giving me your moon pie?
Me: ::sigh:: If you quite whinebaggin, you may have my moon pie. :)
After going back after lunch, he conveniently forgot about the "No Whinebaggin" rule.
Husband: These freaking chairs are uncomfortable.
Me: Would you rather have diabetes for the rest of your life or sit in these chairs for 6 hours?
Husband: Hmmmmmmmm, tough call. I mean, really, it's a hard decision seeing as I've already been sitting in them for 3 hours.
Me: You're an idiot.
Husband: No, I'm just freaking uncomfortable in these chairs! How come the teacher gets a cushioned chair?
Me: I don't freaking know. Seriously, shut up.
Husband: I'm so gonna steal it.
Me: Why do you insist of making us the most hated parents in the room?
Husband: How's me needing a cushion for my ass make me hated?
::He totally switched the chairs. Then when he sat down, he moved his shirt so they would see his gun and badge::
Me: You're kidding, right?
Husband: Nope! I dare her to take it back.
She didn't but she noticed her chair was missing.
And finally, class was almost over. We could see the traffic on the highway! So ready to say goodbye to the hospital. Mr. Northeastern Accent decides it was time to start asking questions. I wish I could've got a picture but the look on my husband's face made me pigsnort. He looked like he was going to kill someone...and we knew who he wanted to kill.
Me: What are you thinking right now? ::snort::
Husband: Me? Oh that I wanna kick this guy's ass.
Me: I know, I could feel it. The air around me smelled like smoke and heavier.
Husband: I don't think it was a good idea to bring my gun.
Me: Oh shut up!
Husband: No seriously, this guy needs an ass whooping. I'm hungry again. You got any snacks in that bag of tricks of yours?
Me: I have some low carb fruit snacks.
Husband: SCORE!
::crackle crackle shake shake chomp chomp::
Husband: Oh ugh, these taste like the inside of a monkey's ass.
Me: I swear, I'm gonna move.
Husband: ::whispering:: But they really do!
Me: Your over exageration of the yuck meter on those is ridiculous. A monkey's ass?
Husband: I wouldn't even share em with Mister McI talk too much....they're that bad.
Me: I have a shortbread cookie but it's carb free and I'm afraid of the next analogy.
And then it was over. We came home and life returned to normal. Or as normal as it can be. Have a great Thursday people. I missed you yesterday!
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
5/28/10
I promise....
...to not turn this blog into a diabetic diary. Yah, it's going to be mine and my daughter's life but as I've heard over and over this week, "Your dreams don't end with diabetes," my blog will still be here for me to vent my frustrations. And holy shit, do I have some frustrations!
Today's is a little late and I apologize. M came home today. I am somewhat happy and scared to have her home. I stated on my Facebook status update that I was the proud owner of a diabetic but with that comes my fear. I am responsible for her health now. Wasn't I responsible for it before? Well, yes, but now I can seriously do some damage. That scares the shit out of me. Any glitch and I am personally responsible for quite possibly damaging this little one. Oh the pressure!
She looks great! It's amazing how "well" she looks now. With the medicine, I actually could see how sick she looked before. Her little pot belly is coming back. Her cheeks are puffing out a bit. Her tiny little double chin in starting to peek out. I kind of missed her and it's nice to have her back.
Okay, lemme tell you how proud of her I am. She is so brave. While I teared up with every milestone of this disease, she just shrugged her shoulders and got over it. Her main complaint was being hungry. She had a hamburger and onion rings at almost every meal. Diabetes isn't about not eating, lemme tell ya! And thank the lord because this girl can eat! With my pride of how brave she is, I was also privileged to witness how strong she was. Here ya go people, take a glimpse and let her inspire you.
M (daughter): Can we go to the gift shop?
Me: Sure but I ain't got any money.
M (daughter): Not even for your newly diagnosed diabetic daughter???
Me: Not even for her sweetie, but I sure do love my diabetic daughter and how she's already using the system of guilt on me.
Our friend brought her over a gift tonight and the gift was earrings. They were beautiful but M doesn't have pierced ears.
Me: It's okay M, we can exchange em for maybe a necklace.
Husband: Oh, they for pierced ears?
M (daughter): Yah.
Husband: Well since you're not playing soccer anymore you can get em pierced.
M (daughter): That wasn't why I didn't have em pierced dad. I was scared of the needle. I guess that excuse goes out the window now....insulin shot anyone?
And finally.
Me: I gotta go pick up your prescriptions. Try to drink that Dr. Pepper please.
M (daughter): How much did it cost?
Me: You don't wanna know.
M (daughter): Sure I do, how much?
Me: $244 and some change.
M (daughter): Sorry about that mom.
Me: What are you sorry about? That doesn't even compare to the thousands of dollars these past 3 days are gonna cost us!
M (daughter): The food was good though.
Me: And I got you home safe and sound. I would've spent a million dollars for that.
M (daughter): Ohhhhhhhh, I think I need my blood sugar checked....Ima vomit!
I hope your Friday was as good as mine was. I got my baby girl home and that was the best part of this week. Have a fantastic weekend and be safe!
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
Today's is a little late and I apologize. M came home today. I am somewhat happy and scared to have her home. I stated on my Facebook status update that I was the proud owner of a diabetic but with that comes my fear. I am responsible for her health now. Wasn't I responsible for it before? Well, yes, but now I can seriously do some damage. That scares the shit out of me. Any glitch and I am personally responsible for quite possibly damaging this little one. Oh the pressure!
She looks great! It's amazing how "well" she looks now. With the medicine, I actually could see how sick she looked before. Her little pot belly is coming back. Her cheeks are puffing out a bit. Her tiny little double chin in starting to peek out. I kind of missed her and it's nice to have her back.
Okay, lemme tell you how proud of her I am. She is so brave. While I teared up with every milestone of this disease, she just shrugged her shoulders and got over it. Her main complaint was being hungry. She had a hamburger and onion rings at almost every meal. Diabetes isn't about not eating, lemme tell ya! And thank the lord because this girl can eat! With my pride of how brave she is, I was also privileged to witness how strong she was. Here ya go people, take a glimpse and let her inspire you.
M (daughter): Can we go to the gift shop?
Me: Sure but I ain't got any money.
M (daughter): Not even for your newly diagnosed diabetic daughter???
Me: Not even for her sweetie, but I sure do love my diabetic daughter and how she's already using the system of guilt on me.
Our friend brought her over a gift tonight and the gift was earrings. They were beautiful but M doesn't have pierced ears.
Me: It's okay M, we can exchange em for maybe a necklace.
Husband: Oh, they for pierced ears?
M (daughter): Yah.
Husband: Well since you're not playing soccer anymore you can get em pierced.
M (daughter): That wasn't why I didn't have em pierced dad. I was scared of the needle. I guess that excuse goes out the window now....insulin shot anyone?
And finally.
Me: I gotta go pick up your prescriptions. Try to drink that Dr. Pepper please.
M (daughter): How much did it cost?
Me: You don't wanna know.
M (daughter): Sure I do, how much?
Me: $244 and some change.
M (daughter): Sorry about that mom.
Me: What are you sorry about? That doesn't even compare to the thousands of dollars these past 3 days are gonna cost us!
M (daughter): The food was good though.
Me: And I got you home safe and sound. I would've spent a million dollars for that.
M (daughter): Ohhhhhhhh, I think I need my blood sugar checked....Ima vomit!
I hope your Friday was as good as mine was. I got my baby girl home and that was the best part of this week. Have a fantastic weekend and be safe!
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
5/27/10
Well....what do I say?
My daughter, M, was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes yesterday. I suspected it for a couple weeks now. That's not hard to admit. What is hard to admit is I was waiting until I was ready to face it instead of getting her the help she needed. :(
They admitted her immediately and transported her by ambulance to Children's Dallas. She's being very brave. She's hydrated and they're sticking her with insulin to regulate her blood sugar.
I still haven't had my moment. I was talking to someone last night and said, "I'm not ready yet. If I start to cry, it'll be too real." The reply? "Jeannie, it's already real. You have no problem speaking your thoughts....let go and let your heart speak for a change." You would've thought that would've broke me, but it didn't. I'm still trying to keep it together. I can't lose it. I just can't. That someone doesn't read my blog but I just wanted to say, I will, I promise, just not right now.
Here are some quotes from my 12 year old yesterday and some talks we had throughout the long day in the hospital.
Me: I'm so sorry.
M: Is it bad?
Me: No, but it changes everything.
M: Oh mom, it could be Cancer. I can deal with a little change.
Check her out! She's like me with her positive outlook....where the hell did mine go?
M: Diet soda?
Me: Yep!
M: Gross.
Me: Oh sweetie, do you know how hot your momma is gonna be with your new diet?
M: Yah, people are gonna ask you your secret and you can do your pose and tell em, my daughter got diabetes.
Me: Yep!
I hope everybody Thursday is good. Today is going to be information overload for both M and I. The good news is they won't let us leave the hospital without knowing everything there is to know about diabetes. I feel very comfortable knowing that. I just wish we were doing it for knowledge. I know this isn't the end of the world, I just wish it wasn't M's world now.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
They admitted her immediately and transported her by ambulance to Children's Dallas. She's being very brave. She's hydrated and they're sticking her with insulin to regulate her blood sugar.
I still haven't had my moment. I was talking to someone last night and said, "I'm not ready yet. If I start to cry, it'll be too real." The reply? "Jeannie, it's already real. You have no problem speaking your thoughts....let go and let your heart speak for a change." You would've thought that would've broke me, but it didn't. I'm still trying to keep it together. I can't lose it. I just can't. That someone doesn't read my blog but I just wanted to say, I will, I promise, just not right now.
Here are some quotes from my 12 year old yesterday and some talks we had throughout the long day in the hospital.
Me: I'm so sorry.
M: Is it bad?
Me: No, but it changes everything.
M: Oh mom, it could be Cancer. I can deal with a little change.
Check her out! She's like me with her positive outlook....where the hell did mine go?
M: Diet soda?
Me: Yep!
M: Gross.
Me: Oh sweetie, do you know how hot your momma is gonna be with your new diet?
M: Yah, people are gonna ask you your secret and you can do your pose and tell em, my daughter got diabetes.
Me: Yep!
I hope everybody Thursday is good. Today is going to be information overload for both M and I. The good news is they won't let us leave the hospital without knowing everything there is to know about diabetes. I feel very comfortable knowing that. I just wish we were doing it for knowledge. I know this isn't the end of the world, I just wish it wasn't M's world now.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
5/26/10
Double the worry....cue the boogyman.
So today is Wednesday...Hump Day. My favorite day of the week. Today? Yah, it ain't treating me so well today.
Here's a pretty picture of what today is starting out with. My father-in-law is preparing for surgery today and tomorrow. We are kind of worried but we're not really talking about it. Avoidance has always been our forte in the Bonifacio household.
Avoidance. It should be my middle name.
For about two months now, my oldest daughter M has grown 3 inches and shrank to an annoying 75lbs. Yah, I'd give anything for her metabolism but I'm not 12. I've attributed it to puberty and hormones but something else has been going on that I've.....um....avoided. My procrastination was to wait until school was out but she was dizzy and weak this morning so today is the day. So now we've got two crisis to deal with until all the answers are given.
And whether my knack for avoidance or procrastination denies me for the 12th year in a row the award of Mother of the Year....then so be it. I can handle any crisis you throw at me after about 5 minutes of hysterics. That's all I need is 5 minutes and then it's done and over. I'm ready to handle the crisis. You give me that 5 minutes and when it's done, I'll hold you up, hand you tissues and take charge. I haven't been given my 5 minutes today yet. I've never had 2 things to worry about. Does that mean I need 10 minutes or am I just screwed?
Bottom line? I may need a shoulder later. I may need someone to slap me. I may need to just curl up in a ball and cry until there are no more tears.
My true bottom line? I'm not going to ask for any of those things. I am the strong one here. I am the one that never loses it. I am the one person that can't do any of those things.
At least not this week. Maybe next week. Have a great Hump Day people. Mine is barely getting started and I can't wait until Thursday already.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
Here's a pretty picture of what today is starting out with. My father-in-law is preparing for surgery today and tomorrow. We are kind of worried but we're not really talking about it. Avoidance has always been our forte in the Bonifacio household.
Avoidance. It should be my middle name.
For about two months now, my oldest daughter M has grown 3 inches and shrank to an annoying 75lbs. Yah, I'd give anything for her metabolism but I'm not 12. I've attributed it to puberty and hormones but something else has been going on that I've.....um....avoided. My procrastination was to wait until school was out but she was dizzy and weak this morning so today is the day. So now we've got two crisis to deal with until all the answers are given.
And whether my knack for avoidance or procrastination denies me for the 12th year in a row the award of Mother of the Year....then so be it. I can handle any crisis you throw at me after about 5 minutes of hysterics. That's all I need is 5 minutes and then it's done and over. I'm ready to handle the crisis. You give me that 5 minutes and when it's done, I'll hold you up, hand you tissues and take charge. I haven't been given my 5 minutes today yet. I've never had 2 things to worry about. Does that mean I need 10 minutes or am I just screwed?
Bottom line? I may need a shoulder later. I may need someone to slap me. I may need to just curl up in a ball and cry until there are no more tears.
My true bottom line? I'm not going to ask for any of those things. I am the strong one here. I am the one that never loses it. I am the one person that can't do any of those things.
At least not this week. Maybe next week. Have a great Hump Day people. Mine is barely getting started and I can't wait until Thursday already.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
5/14/10
It was a Sad Goodbye....to Friday carpool.
I still have two more Tuesday carpools but today marked my last Friday carpool. Granted, I'm probably going to see E everyday this summer but even though M2 just lives down the street, I probably won't see her. Yes, it was a sad realization. I'm gonna miss those three little boogers to brighten up my every three Fridays.
Me: Hey yo M2!
M2: Hello!
Me: Any plans this weekend?
M2: My dad and brothers are going on a father/son camp out tonight so my mom and I are gonna do something girly tonight.
Me: Oh yah? Punishment over?
M2: It is for me. I've got plans this weekend with my friends and even my parents can't ruin it.
Me: There's the spirit.
::Ethan gets in the car::
Me: Hey yo E!
E: Helllloooooo Miss Jean.
M2: What are you doing this weekend?
E: Nothing exciting.
M2: Aren't you going on the father/son camp out?
E: Oh....yah. I'm going on the father/son camp out.
Me: There's the excitement of a 12 year old I love to see.
E: Oh, it'll be fun. I just kinda wish we had a weekend where we didn't have anything to do.
Me: Well, I have some bad news this morning.
Boogers: What?
Me: It's our last Friday carpool together.
M2: Awwwww, it is! But we still have two more Tuesdays left together.
E: And you dressed for the occasion too.
Me: Nah, I just put on yesterday's clothes.
E: Annnnnnd yesterday's clothes was a tube top thank God.
M2: I'm kinda gonna miss your tube tops too Miss Jean.
M (daughter): Over the summer? That's all my mom wears in the summer.
E: I love summertime.
Me: Me too.
M2: Hey M (daughter), you should take swim team, then we can still do carpool.
Me: What time is swim team?
E: 5:30am.
Me: It was nice carpooling your asses...see ya next year!
Because it might've been a sad goodbye but it was a goodbye. Miss Jean doesn't do anything before 6am.
Have a fantastic Friday! I hope your weekend is great and your Monday is slow to show up.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
Me: Hey yo M2!
M2: Hello!
Me: Any plans this weekend?
M2: My dad and brothers are going on a father/son camp out tonight so my mom and I are gonna do something girly tonight.
Me: Oh yah? Punishment over?
M2: It is for me. I've got plans this weekend with my friends and even my parents can't ruin it.
Me: There's the spirit.
::Ethan gets in the car::
Me: Hey yo E!
E: Helllloooooo Miss Jean.
M2: What are you doing this weekend?
E: Nothing exciting.
M2: Aren't you going on the father/son camp out?
E: Oh....yah. I'm going on the father/son camp out.
Me: There's the excitement of a 12 year old I love to see.
E: Oh, it'll be fun. I just kinda wish we had a weekend where we didn't have anything to do.
Me: Well, I have some bad news this morning.
Boogers: What?
Me: It's our last Friday carpool together.
M2: Awwwww, it is! But we still have two more Tuesdays left together.
E: And you dressed for the occasion too.
Me: Nah, I just put on yesterday's clothes.
E: Annnnnnd yesterday's clothes was a tube top thank God.
M2: I'm kinda gonna miss your tube tops too Miss Jean.
M (daughter): Over the summer? That's all my mom wears in the summer.
E: I love summertime.
Me: Me too.
M2: Hey M (daughter), you should take swim team, then we can still do carpool.
Me: What time is swim team?
E: 5:30am.
Me: It was nice carpooling your asses...see ya next year!
Because it might've been a sad goodbye but it was a goodbye. Miss Jean doesn't do anything before 6am.
Have a fantastic Friday! I hope your weekend is great and your Monday is slow to show up.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
5/11/10
Church Folk are Weird
Yah, I said it. The possibility that this statement will come back and haunt me at the Pearly Gates doesn't scare me. But seriously, church folk are weird.
It was carpool Tuesday today and our good girl M2 informed me that she was being punished. The conversation went on for the entire car ride so try to keep up.
M2: I got grounded.
Me: I'm shocked. What'd you do?
M2: I broke my commitment.
(I have to admit at first I thought it was a commitment to abstinence. My mind always goes to dirty.)
M2: I was up at 8:15pm when I should've been sleeping by 8pm.
Me: Did they beat you with flames and needles?
M2: They took my books away from me.
Me: What??!! So they....um....well that's just stoooopid. Church folk are weird.
E: Sing it Miss Jean! Oh and wear that tube top when you do it. Blue is definitely your color.
Me: Oh I'll do you one better. I'll wrap a rosary and use it for an ankle bracelet.
E: Seriously, I'm still mad about the airgun.
M2: What about the airgun?
E: Well, now D**** threatened to shoot my dad with his airgun.
Me: Why's he mad at you?
E: Cause my dad called his parents and told them they were illegal. Now D***** can't play with it either.
Me: So how's he gonna shoot your dad?
E: I don't know but I started laughing and told him that my dad has 911 on speed dial.
Me: Cause pressing 9-1-1 isn't fast enough?
M (daughter): Good one mom. E, your dad is crazy.
E: If church folk are weird, explain to us just how long K is grounded for?
Me: She's grounded until I say she isn't grounded.
M2: Ohhhhhh, what'd K do?
Me: Um....er....she called a boy g-a-y and kneed him in the....um...er....
E: The no-no box!
Me: ::snort:: The what box?
E: The no-no box. You know.
Me: Yah, I got it but why is it the "no-no box?"
E: I don't know, my mom and dad call it that.
M (daughter): I dare you to call it that to your friends.
E: No way.
Me: What do you call it in front of your friends?
E: We don't really talk about em.
Me: So, lemme get this straight. Your parents grounded you from books for reading 15 minutes past your bedtime....which in my opinion is way too early. And your parents have reinforced in that brain of yours that....um....er....that general area is a "no-no" box.
M (daughter): Mom, I love you.
Me: Yah, I don't ever wanna hear you say the words "not fair" come out of that mouth of yours. You could be M2 and E.
E: What's wrong with calling it the no-no box?
Me: Lemme put it this way. When you're older....you're gonna wanna change it to the yep-yep box. Your parents have basically, sub-consciously, made you think anything that has to do with...um....er....forget it.
E: No! What?
Me: How many carpools are left in the year?
M2: About 3?
Me: I'll tell you everything you two wanna know on my last carpool day.
And with that, I repeat....church folk are weird. I am convinced that I was put on this earth to fix the evils that they put upon their children.
Have a great Tuesday and have fun with your yep-yep boxes! :)
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
It was carpool Tuesday today and our good girl M2 informed me that she was being punished. The conversation went on for the entire car ride so try to keep up.
M2: I got grounded.
Me: I'm shocked. What'd you do?
M2: I broke my commitment.
(I have to admit at first I thought it was a commitment to abstinence. My mind always goes to dirty.)
M2: I was up at 8:15pm when I should've been sleeping by 8pm.
Me: Did they beat you with flames and needles?
M2: They took my books away from me.
Me: What??!! So they....um....well that's just stoooopid. Church folk are weird.
E: Sing it Miss Jean! Oh and wear that tube top when you do it. Blue is definitely your color.
Me: Oh I'll do you one better. I'll wrap a rosary and use it for an ankle bracelet.
E: Seriously, I'm still mad about the airgun.
M2: What about the airgun?
E: Well, now D**** threatened to shoot my dad with his airgun.
Me: Why's he mad at you?
E: Cause my dad called his parents and told them they were illegal. Now D***** can't play with it either.
Me: So how's he gonna shoot your dad?
E: I don't know but I started laughing and told him that my dad has 911 on speed dial.
Me: Cause pressing 9-1-1 isn't fast enough?
M (daughter): Good one mom. E, your dad is crazy.
E: If church folk are weird, explain to us just how long K is grounded for?
Me: She's grounded until I say she isn't grounded.
M2: Ohhhhhh, what'd K do?
Me: Um....er....she called a boy g-a-y and kneed him in the....um...er....
E: The no-no box!
Me: ::snort:: The what box?
E: The no-no box. You know.
Me: Yah, I got it but why is it the "no-no box?"
E: I don't know, my mom and dad call it that.
M (daughter): I dare you to call it that to your friends.
E: No way.
Me: What do you call it in front of your friends?
E: We don't really talk about em.
Me: So, lemme get this straight. Your parents grounded you from books for reading 15 minutes past your bedtime....which in my opinion is way too early. And your parents have reinforced in that brain of yours that....um....er....that general area is a "no-no" box.
M (daughter): Mom, I love you.
Me: Yah, I don't ever wanna hear you say the words "not fair" come out of that mouth of yours. You could be M2 and E.
E: What's wrong with calling it the no-no box?
Me: Lemme put it this way. When you're older....you're gonna wanna change it to the yep-yep box. Your parents have basically, sub-consciously, made you think anything that has to do with...um....er....forget it.
E: No! What?
Me: How many carpools are left in the year?
M2: About 3?
Me: I'll tell you everything you two wanna know on my last carpool day.
And with that, I repeat....church folk are weird. I am convinced that I was put on this earth to fix the evils that they put upon their children.
Have a great Tuesday and have fun with your yep-yep boxes! :)
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
5/4/10
Here Are Some More Clues
Okay, so yesterday I gave some clues as to why I am the way I am. There was some confusion at the end if I wasn't done. Note, I am never done. Hasn't the fact that I haven't ran out of things to say on this here blog proved I am never done?
So, continuing.
My father. He's always thought I wasn't funny. He is also the one that passed on the eye roll gene to me. Funny thing is, whenever I rolled my eyes at HIM, he wanted to slap me. One thing about my father is, he'd rather be on his couch, watching his TV than anywhere else. He has his priorities and he isn't afraid to grumble when your priorities don't match his. With that quality, he has no problem saying out loud thoughts....even though they really should've remained silent.
Father: K's coach needs to shut the hell up!
Me: Dad! Her husband is right behind us.
Father: You don't think he agrees?
Me: Well maybe but that doesn't mean he won't defend her.
Father: If he does, I probably won't be able to hear him cause his wife won't shut the hell up.
Me: You're gonna make me burn some bridges today, aren't you?
Father: I've been listening to this lady scream at K for over a year. Burn baby, BURN.
My mother, you would think is the extinguisher in the relationship. Nope! She hasn't changed a thing. She knows perfectly well what she's doing to annoy my father. She is also the one woman in my life that I'm not afraid to say no to and not feel bad about. She and I have an eery relationship. We are alike in more ways than I'd like to admit. She also throws the guilt and the little spikes of disappointment like a pro.
Mother: I signed M up for a 4 hour babysitting class.
Me: What? When?
Mother: It's at the YMCA on a Saturday morning.
Me: Um....cancel that.
Mother: M said the same thing.
Me: Well jeez mom, I'm just barely getting my Saturdays back and you're signing her up for stuff?
Mother: It's all about you, isn't it?
Me: No, it's about trying to wake your 12 year old granddaughter up on a Saturday. Are you gonna do it?
Mother: No, I signed her up, you can handle the other stuff.
Me: Of course, seriously, unsign her up.
Mother: Fine! I just thought since you went back to work and "expect" M to babysit when you're not there....she might want to know how.
{{ZING}} Ah yes, that's my mother. I do love her so. :)
My sister. I rarely have conversations with her these days. She's very busy being a great mother and there ain't nothing wrong with that. Growing up, we hated each other. We couldn't tolerate a minute of each other's company. What I've learned from her is patience. When I had my girls and realized that they are the EXACT difference in age as my sister and I, I thought I was doomed. Well, I am doomed. My girls hate each other too. Well, K doesn't but she sure helps out M, giving her reasons to hate her. Now I'm not saying this is my sister's fault. My daughter M is kinda like my sister. She's sensitive, she's smart and she's logical. I appreciate my sister more because of the similarities. I pay attention to the detail of an argument between my daughters. I make sure I don't let a fight go without consequences. At the end of the day though, they still argue, they still hate each other. But what my sister has taught me is no matter what, there is and was always love there. It never goes away and it'll always be there when you need it desperately. See? Patience.
My friend G. Oh yah, she's my little dose of crazy and even bigger dose of reality. She's not afraid to tell me the truth....no matter how much it hurts. We all need friends like that. I once got a haircut. I asked G if she liked it. G said, "Kind of but I like it longer." Well shit! I was crushed. What was I supposed to do? Hurry up and grow it overnight? But that's my friend G. She has her faults. She has her idiosyncrasies. But most of all, she has my back. She'll never let me make a mistake without saying, "I told ya so!" She'll never let me fall without saying, "You got dirt on your ass." She has shown me what it means to have somebody I can depend on. I never feel used. I never feel slighted. I just feel loved. And that is what a friend is supposed to do.
I have many friends. Friends that I've known since I was a tween like my daughter. Friends that I made promises to and still, to this day, I've kept. Friends that at a moments notice, they'd hop on an airplane and rescue me....if I needed rescuing. I'm a very lucky girl.
So today, on this lovely Tuesday, worthy of a yellow tube top, think of who you can blame for the person you've become. And for the confused one....this ain't done but I am done for today. Have a great day.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
So, continuing.
My father. He's always thought I wasn't funny. He is also the one that passed on the eye roll gene to me. Funny thing is, whenever I rolled my eyes at HIM, he wanted to slap me. One thing about my father is, he'd rather be on his couch, watching his TV than anywhere else. He has his priorities and he isn't afraid to grumble when your priorities don't match his. With that quality, he has no problem saying out loud thoughts....even though they really should've remained silent.
Father: K's coach needs to shut the hell up!
Me: Dad! Her husband is right behind us.
Father: You don't think he agrees?
Me: Well maybe but that doesn't mean he won't defend her.
Father: If he does, I probably won't be able to hear him cause his wife won't shut the hell up.
Me: You're gonna make me burn some bridges today, aren't you?
Father: I've been listening to this lady scream at K for over a year. Burn baby, BURN.
My mother, you would think is the extinguisher in the relationship. Nope! She hasn't changed a thing. She knows perfectly well what she's doing to annoy my father. She is also the one woman in my life that I'm not afraid to say no to and not feel bad about. She and I have an eery relationship. We are alike in more ways than I'd like to admit. She also throws the guilt and the little spikes of disappointment like a pro.
Mother: I signed M up for a 4 hour babysitting class.
Me: What? When?
Mother: It's at the YMCA on a Saturday morning.
Me: Um....cancel that.
Mother: M said the same thing.
Me: Well jeez mom, I'm just barely getting my Saturdays back and you're signing her up for stuff?
Mother: It's all about you, isn't it?
Me: No, it's about trying to wake your 12 year old granddaughter up on a Saturday. Are you gonna do it?
Mother: No, I signed her up, you can handle the other stuff.
Me: Of course, seriously, unsign her up.
Mother: Fine! I just thought since you went back to work and "expect" M to babysit when you're not there....she might want to know how.
{{ZING}} Ah yes, that's my mother. I do love her so. :)
My sister. I rarely have conversations with her these days. She's very busy being a great mother and there ain't nothing wrong with that. Growing up, we hated each other. We couldn't tolerate a minute of each other's company. What I've learned from her is patience. When I had my girls and realized that they are the EXACT difference in age as my sister and I, I thought I was doomed. Well, I am doomed. My girls hate each other too. Well, K doesn't but she sure helps out M, giving her reasons to hate her. Now I'm not saying this is my sister's fault. My daughter M is kinda like my sister. She's sensitive, she's smart and she's logical. I appreciate my sister more because of the similarities. I pay attention to the detail of an argument between my daughters. I make sure I don't let a fight go without consequences. At the end of the day though, they still argue, they still hate each other. But what my sister has taught me is no matter what, there is and was always love there. It never goes away and it'll always be there when you need it desperately. See? Patience.
My friend G. Oh yah, she's my little dose of crazy and even bigger dose of reality. She's not afraid to tell me the truth....no matter how much it hurts. We all need friends like that. I once got a haircut. I asked G if she liked it. G said, "Kind of but I like it longer." Well shit! I was crushed. What was I supposed to do? Hurry up and grow it overnight? But that's my friend G. She has her faults. She has her idiosyncrasies. But most of all, she has my back. She'll never let me make a mistake without saying, "I told ya so!" She'll never let me fall without saying, "You got dirt on your ass." She has shown me what it means to have somebody I can depend on. I never feel used. I never feel slighted. I just feel loved. And that is what a friend is supposed to do.
I have many friends. Friends that I've known since I was a tween like my daughter. Friends that I made promises to and still, to this day, I've kept. Friends that at a moments notice, they'd hop on an airplane and rescue me....if I needed rescuing. I'm a very lucky girl.
So today, on this lovely Tuesday, worthy of a yellow tube top, think of who you can blame for the person you've become. And for the confused one....this ain't done but I am done for today. Have a great day.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
5/2/10
It's Time to Clue Everybody In.
People often wonder why I'm funny....or a bitch. The truth of the matter is, I'm constantly finding myself surrounded with characters that deserve a shout out. I wouldn't be who I am without the help of the people that I make fun of, live with or despise.
My husband. The quintessential asshole. It's an endearing term. It's also hard not to get some pointers from him during certain moments in my life. Like the time the Market Street manager saddled up next to me and asked if I needed help renting a video.....as I was returning a video.
Me: I'm returning a video so I think I got it.
Him: Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh....oh-kay.
Me: You alright there or are you having a seizure?
My oldest. The emotional melting pot of tears and dirty looks. Yah, we pick on her occasionally but seriously, toughen up girl and stop crying!
Her: Dad doesn't fight fair. He fights dirty.
Me: Welcome to my world sweetie.
Her: He purposely tries to pick on me to make me cry, then he gets mad at me for crying.
Me: Yep, you're an idiot. You've just painted your button neon yellow and given him a free pass to push it until it's dead and black.
Her: How do you fight with him?
Me: Well, sometimes I put an "Out of Order" sign on those buttons and when he pushes them, I don't let it bother me. It really pisses him off. You should try it. You'll save me some money on Kleenex.
My youngest. The reincarnate. The karma that has bitten my ass. The girl that is doomed to be cute as hell but grounded for the rest of her life.
Her: Hey mommy, I finally figured out what I am.
Me: What are you talking about?
Her: I'm filipeño!
Me: Sweetie, it's just filipino. Not filipeño like the pepper.
Her: Well, everybody always thinks I'm Mexican so I just added a little flavor.
Me: You're. A. Genius.
My boss. The Dennis Hopper of my life. The "Pop Quiz Asshole." One on one, he's actually great. Add a couple more people in the mix, good god, where's my gun?
Him: Okay, pop quiz people.
Everybody: ::sigh::
Him: How do you alphabetize?
Yah, I'm not even going to dignify that with anymore banter.
There are so many more people in my life that I will mention throughout this blog. I'm not forgetting you, I promise. It is Monday though and I have to get to work. I'm almost positive that I'm working with Dennis Hopper this morning. I'm also positive that I might need a beer after work. Have a great day!
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
My husband. The quintessential asshole. It's an endearing term. It's also hard not to get some pointers from him during certain moments in my life. Like the time the Market Street manager saddled up next to me and asked if I needed help renting a video.....as I was returning a video.
Me: I'm returning a video so I think I got it.
Him: Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh....oh-kay.
Me: You alright there or are you having a seizure?
My oldest. The emotional melting pot of tears and dirty looks. Yah, we pick on her occasionally but seriously, toughen up girl and stop crying!
Her: Dad doesn't fight fair. He fights dirty.
Me: Welcome to my world sweetie.
Her: He purposely tries to pick on me to make me cry, then he gets mad at me for crying.
Me: Yep, you're an idiot. You've just painted your button neon yellow and given him a free pass to push it until it's dead and black.
Her: How do you fight with him?
Me: Well, sometimes I put an "Out of Order" sign on those buttons and when he pushes them, I don't let it bother me. It really pisses him off. You should try it. You'll save me some money on Kleenex.
My youngest. The reincarnate. The karma that has bitten my ass. The girl that is doomed to be cute as hell but grounded for the rest of her life.
Her: Hey mommy, I finally figured out what I am.
Me: What are you talking about?
Her: I'm filipeño!
Me: Sweetie, it's just filipino. Not filipeño like the pepper.
Her: Well, everybody always thinks I'm Mexican so I just added a little flavor.
Me: You're. A. Genius.
My boss. The Dennis Hopper of my life. The "Pop Quiz Asshole." One on one, he's actually great. Add a couple more people in the mix, good god, where's my gun?
Him: Okay, pop quiz people.
Everybody: ::sigh::
Him: How do you alphabetize?
Yah, I'm not even going to dignify that with anymore banter.
There are so many more people in my life that I will mention throughout this blog. I'm not forgetting you, I promise. It is Monday though and I have to get to work. I'm almost positive that I'm working with Dennis Hopper this morning. I'm also positive that I might need a beer after work. Have a great day!
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
4/29/10
This is Why I'm Doomed.
My reincarnate. She is why I'm doomed. She's the cutest little troublemaker in the south. She annoys me to no end but makes me laugh out loud into pigsnorts.
My tween. She is also why I'm doomed. She's a melting pot of emotions that I don't understand. Seriously, stop crying already!
A conversation with my reincarnate.
K: Mommy! I read this entire chapter book!
Me: Awesome! How much points is it worth?
K: Enough to shut my teacher up about my AR goal.
Me: Hey now, don't be rude.
K: Ooops, sorry. It's worth a lot though.
Me: So you can take the test on it tomorrow then.
K: Oh yah, I'm so gonna ace that test. There's just one thing I don't get.
Me: Hmmmmm? (At this point, I'm thinking that I'm gonna get screwed into reading this damn book. I really don't wanna have to read a 2nd grade chapter book.)
K: Can you explain something to me?
Me: ::sigh:: Sure sweetie. What's up?
K: Who would name their kid "Cha-low?"
Me: "Cha-low?"
K: Yah, isn't that the craziest name? That was the main character's name. How embarrassing!
Me: ::confusion::realization::sigh:: Sweetie.....that's......Chloe.
K: Ooooooooooh, that makes more sense.
I'm doomed.
A conversation with my melting pot of a tween.
M: Mom? What does "Shawty" mean?
Me: Why?
M: Cause the next door neighbors are always saying it.
Me: Um.....how do I define this? I'm Jean, your WHITE mom. I haven't any idea how to explain what "shawty" means.
M: Whatever.
She walks away and I don't see her for about 15 minutes. This is the conversation I overheard between her and her dad.
M: Hey dad, I have a nickname at school now.
Him: Oh yah, what is it?
M: "Shawty!"
Him: Shorty? Who the hell calls you that?
M: Everybody does....um...cause I'm short!
Him: You're one of the tallest girls in your class. That makes no sense. And that isn't what "shawty" means.
M: What does it mean then?
At this point, I decide to call her out. Cause in high school, my nickname was "Bitchy!"
Me: You're such a liar! You just asked me like 10 minutes ago what that meant....now it's your nickname at school.
M: It is! I'm not a liar.
Me: Whatever "Shawty!" You so crazy! (I said this in my best Martin Lawrence voice.)
Dad: Oh snap.....you got schooled yo!
Me: Old school homie!
M: Stawwwwwwwwp! I hate you guys. ::tears::
Me: My work here is done. Go forth "Shawty" and be superfly with your bad self.
::SLAM::BANG::
I'm doomed but it sure is funny.
Have a great Friday!
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
My tween. She is also why I'm doomed. She's a melting pot of emotions that I don't understand. Seriously, stop crying already!
A conversation with my reincarnate.
K: Mommy! I read this entire chapter book!
Me: Awesome! How much points is it worth?
K: Enough to shut my teacher up about my AR goal.
Me: Hey now, don't be rude.
K: Ooops, sorry. It's worth a lot though.
Me: So you can take the test on it tomorrow then.
K: Oh yah, I'm so gonna ace that test. There's just one thing I don't get.
Me: Hmmmmm? (At this point, I'm thinking that I'm gonna get screwed into reading this damn book. I really don't wanna have to read a 2nd grade chapter book.)
K: Can you explain something to me?
Me: ::sigh:: Sure sweetie. What's up?
K: Who would name their kid "Cha-low?"
Me: "Cha-low?"
K: Yah, isn't that the craziest name? That was the main character's name. How embarrassing!
Me: ::confusion::realization::sigh:: Sweetie.....that's......Chloe.
K: Ooooooooooh, that makes more sense.
I'm doomed.
A conversation with my melting pot of a tween.
M: Mom? What does "Shawty" mean?
Me: Why?
M: Cause the next door neighbors are always saying it.
Me: Um.....how do I define this? I'm Jean, your WHITE mom. I haven't any idea how to explain what "shawty" means.
M: Whatever.
She walks away and I don't see her for about 15 minutes. This is the conversation I overheard between her and her dad.
M: Hey dad, I have a nickname at school now.
Him: Oh yah, what is it?
M: "Shawty!"
Him: Shorty? Who the hell calls you that?
M: Everybody does....um...cause I'm short!
Him: You're one of the tallest girls in your class. That makes no sense. And that isn't what "shawty" means.
M: What does it mean then?
At this point, I decide to call her out. Cause in high school, my nickname was "Bitchy!"
Me: You're such a liar! You just asked me like 10 minutes ago what that meant....now it's your nickname at school.
M: It is! I'm not a liar.
Me: Whatever "Shawty!" You so crazy! (I said this in my best Martin Lawrence voice.)
Dad: Oh snap.....you got schooled yo!
Me: Old school homie!
M: Stawwwwwwwwp! I hate you guys. ::tears::
Me: My work here is done. Go forth "Shawty" and be superfly with your bad self.
::SLAM::BANG::
I'm doomed but it sure is funny.
Have a great Friday!
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
4/28/10
I'm Not the Normal Type of Girl.
I know, SHOCKER!
But it's true. I don't like jewelry. I'm not a big fan of shopping for clothes. My shoe collection is so sad. Pampering such as pedicures and manicures are like torture to me. Massages? Yah, I bruise too easily.
I have a wardrobe of tube tops and shorts. I have some dresses but those dresses consist of one black dress suitable for funerals and all the others look like I'm going to Mexico. My shoes consist of over 25 pairs of flip flops and one pair of black heels. They cost me $5.88 and they are my favorites. When they die, I will probably cry for a week. I feel that way about a pair of black flip flops too. My flip flops are my staple. I even wear flip flops in the winter. Yah, I'm one of those whiners. "I'm freezing!" Well, put some damn shoes on then!
Personal pampering for most women is heaven. Pampering for me is just having the ability to sit on a comfortable chair with a beer in my hand. Pedicures make me want to vomit. I've had em so don't try to convince me otherwise. Feet, even my own, make me squirm. Don't touch my feet. You will regret it....ask my ex-boyfriend, who shall remain nameless. Manicures suck! My nails grow beautifully without the help of those ninjas that file and paint. Every freaking time I've ever gotten a manicure, my nails ended up breaking and looking like crap.
Jewelry. Every holiday, when the jewelry brochures start coming in the mail, I would turn the pages hoping to see something that I liked. Every flip of the page making that sound of defeat to me.
"I can't wear those, my ears reject earrings."
"I might wear another ring but I like the rings I already wear. What's the point?"
I'm just not like most girls. My idea of "girly" is that 5-7 days every month and that isn't a good thing. And don't get me wrong, I'm not sporty either. The idea of running around and acting like a kid again makes me hyperventilate just thinking about it. I'm just different. I'm not high maintenance. I don't expect much. Is that a good thing? First instincts might be yes but after awhile it gets a little annoying.
It's hard to find friends that share my dislikes. It's hard to keep a lasting relationship when I make it so easy. A friend who enjoys a pedicure thinks it would be weird that I'd rather get my eyebrows waxed. A man who knows I'm not about the expensive things would take advantage of that by never going the extra mile when he needs to.
My lack of "girliness" is a quandary though as I'm raising two girls who haven't quite figured out what type of girls they're going to be. My oldest is on light speed to becoming a woman and doesn't want to be. My youngest is desperately trying to speed up the process and failing miserably at it. All of this is happening while I am just trying to reach back into my failing brain of memories to when I was a "girl." I can't remember the important stuff.
1) When did I start worrying about if I smelled good? (Because seriously, it's like pulling teeth to get these girls to take a shower! Gahhhhhhd.)
2) When was a hairy leg gross? (I wish they weren't, I really hate shaving.)
3) When were boys not the evil, disgusting, incarnate of slime? (Wait, did that ever change?)
4) Should I have her dad talk to his daughter about feminine napkins? (Sorry, had to put that one in. Still funny.)
And finally 5) Is it a good thing that I've always been brutally honest with my daughters about EVERYTHING? Sex, hygiene and all the stuff mom's should be embarrassed to talk about with their daughters?
So, even though I've come to love my lack of "girliness," it's kind of bitten me in the ass in this block of my life. Because in reality, my girls are gonna have to figure this kind of stuff out on their own.
If they ever need fashion advice on what flip flops go with what tube top though....I'm their gal!
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
But it's true. I don't like jewelry. I'm not a big fan of shopping for clothes. My shoe collection is so sad. Pampering such as pedicures and manicures are like torture to me. Massages? Yah, I bruise too easily.
I have a wardrobe of tube tops and shorts. I have some dresses but those dresses consist of one black dress suitable for funerals and all the others look like I'm going to Mexico. My shoes consist of over 25 pairs of flip flops and one pair of black heels. They cost me $5.88 and they are my favorites. When they die, I will probably cry for a week. I feel that way about a pair of black flip flops too. My flip flops are my staple. I even wear flip flops in the winter. Yah, I'm one of those whiners. "I'm freezing!" Well, put some damn shoes on then!
Personal pampering for most women is heaven. Pampering for me is just having the ability to sit on a comfortable chair with a beer in my hand. Pedicures make me want to vomit. I've had em so don't try to convince me otherwise. Feet, even my own, make me squirm. Don't touch my feet. You will regret it....ask my ex-boyfriend, who shall remain nameless. Manicures suck! My nails grow beautifully without the help of those ninjas that file and paint. Every freaking time I've ever gotten a manicure, my nails ended up breaking and looking like crap.
Jewelry. Every holiday, when the jewelry brochures start coming in the mail, I would turn the pages hoping to see something that I liked. Every flip of the page making that sound of defeat to me.
"I can't wear those, my ears reject earrings."
"I might wear another ring but I like the rings I already wear. What's the point?"
I'm just not like most girls. My idea of "girly" is that 5-7 days every month and that isn't a good thing. And don't get me wrong, I'm not sporty either. The idea of running around and acting like a kid again makes me hyperventilate just thinking about it. I'm just different. I'm not high maintenance. I don't expect much. Is that a good thing? First instincts might be yes but after awhile it gets a little annoying.
It's hard to find friends that share my dislikes. It's hard to keep a lasting relationship when I make it so easy. A friend who enjoys a pedicure thinks it would be weird that I'd rather get my eyebrows waxed. A man who knows I'm not about the expensive things would take advantage of that by never going the extra mile when he needs to.
My lack of "girliness" is a quandary though as I'm raising two girls who haven't quite figured out what type of girls they're going to be. My oldest is on light speed to becoming a woman and doesn't want to be. My youngest is desperately trying to speed up the process and failing miserably at it. All of this is happening while I am just trying to reach back into my failing brain of memories to when I was a "girl." I can't remember the important stuff.
1) When did I start worrying about if I smelled good? (Because seriously, it's like pulling teeth to get these girls to take a shower! Gahhhhhhd.)
2) When was a hairy leg gross? (I wish they weren't, I really hate shaving.)
3) When were boys not the evil, disgusting, incarnate of slime? (Wait, did that ever change?)
4) Should I have her dad talk to his daughter about feminine napkins? (Sorry, had to put that one in. Still funny.)
And finally 5) Is it a good thing that I've always been brutally honest with my daughters about EVERYTHING? Sex, hygiene and all the stuff mom's should be embarrassed to talk about with their daughters?
So, even though I've come to love my lack of "girliness," it's kind of bitten me in the ass in this block of my life. Because in reality, my girls are gonna have to figure this kind of stuff out on their own.
If they ever need fashion advice on what flip flops go with what tube top though....I'm their gal!
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
4/27/10
I'll Fix You My Pretty.....and your little dog too!
Today was Tuesday which means I have to get up as usual but I actually have to leave the house for my carpool. It was a great morning in spite of the fact that I could've slept for an eternity longer. The Blu-Ray was fixed....by me. I read up on the blu-ray player I have and figured out how to update it with my wireless network. I am now watching Avatar on blu-ray. Yes....I am the plus in this relationship. Found my loophole and read the fine print....oh yes I did.
Tuesday Carpool people and I can't possibly do it justice. It really needs pictures and audio but since I got neither of those, let's see how good my writing is.
M2: I'm sorry, I didn't know it was so late.
Me: It's 7:22am, you're not late. You're right on time in Jeanieland.
M2: I hurt my arm playing basketball with my dad last night and my mom's all mad at me because I can't practice my piano. Well....she's not mad...
Me: Yah right....she's beating you, isn't she?
M2: Yah, she's got a mean left hook.
::E gets in the car::
Me: Hello E. Ready for your tests today?
E: Oh I'm as ready as I'll ever be Miss Daisy.
M2: You're weird.
E: You're weirder.
Me: That's okay, M's the weirdest so she's got you all beat.
M (daughter): Why mother? Why do you always have to.....?"
E: Oh dang, have you ever seen her when she's hungry? She acts like she's drunk and going to die.
Me: I have, I'm the one who has to feed this child.
M (daughter): I'm not weirder than you E. You're just plain lame.
Me: Oh, that's not true, E's my favorit...est boy in the neighborhood.
M (daughter): Not mine....I like (bad kid who shall remain nameless) Oh, I kinda just threw up in my mouth a little bit.
Me: Yah, there's no way (bad kid who shall remain nameless) is your fave. Swallow that vomit!
E: Oh that kid needs a good butt kicking at least twice a day.
M (daughter): Then do it already!
E: Oh I did. Yesterday I had to tackle him and sit on him until he stopped. I said, "Boyah, you bettah quit child!"
Me: ::snort:: So what you're saying is you turned all Aunt Jemima on his ass?? What's with the southern accent...did you get your switch and whip him till he squealed like a pig?"
E: Oh hush you! You should have your husband teach him a lesson.
M2: Oh yah, your husband is a little scary. That one day I came to the door to get M and he opened the door, I almost ran away screaming.
Me: That's cause you woke him up. He's like a bear waking up from hibernation. FOOD! ::scratch scratch:: WHERE'S MY BERRIES???
M (daughter): ::snort:: You even added the scratching. When he wakes me up, as he walks away, he's always scratching "something."
E: Let's stop talking about him....he's so scary, he probably senses that we're talking smack about him.
Me: Okay, this conversation doesn't reach his ears. Deal? We're all safe from the bear.
M (daughter): Hey mom, you see that tall kid in the green? That's the kid that doesn't believe in God.
Me: It's okay he doesn't believe in God.
E: He's Catholic!!! Oh and a....douchebag too.
Me: You finally learn what a douchebag was? And being a Catholic explains it. Catholic parents are like Nazis.....most kids grow out of it.
M (daughter): Yah but he's always swearing at me. He's the one who called me the "B" word.
Me: ::pulling up to the curb::pushing the button for the window down on M's side:: You want me to talk to him? I'll teach him a few new words and have him crying for his mommy.
Sidenote: As the window is slowly rolling down, all three kids in my car squeal nervously and scoot down, hiding. From an outsider looking in, I look like the only occupant of the car. The kid (the non-God believer) looks over and I ask, "What are you looking at?"
The snickers and sighs throughout the car almost give them away. Of course the fact that they actually had to get out....really gave them away.
E: Thanks a lot.
M2: Yah, I bet he's calling you the "B" word too.
M (daughter): Mother, one day, I'm going to get you back.
Me: Nah, one day, you'll be doing this to your own daughter. Have a great test day weirdos!!!
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
Tuesday Carpool people and I can't possibly do it justice. It really needs pictures and audio but since I got neither of those, let's see how good my writing is.
M2: I'm sorry, I didn't know it was so late.
Me: It's 7:22am, you're not late. You're right on time in Jeanieland.
M2: I hurt my arm playing basketball with my dad last night and my mom's all mad at me because I can't practice my piano. Well....she's not mad...
Me: Yah right....she's beating you, isn't she?
M2: Yah, she's got a mean left hook.
::E gets in the car::
Me: Hello E. Ready for your tests today?
E: Oh I'm as ready as I'll ever be Miss Daisy.
M2: You're weird.
E: You're weirder.
Me: That's okay, M's the weirdest so she's got you all beat.
M (daughter): Why mother? Why do you always have to.....?"
E: Oh dang, have you ever seen her when she's hungry? She acts like she's drunk and going to die.
Me: I have, I'm the one who has to feed this child.
M (daughter): I'm not weirder than you E. You're just plain lame.
Me: Oh, that's not true, E's my favorit...est boy in the neighborhood.
M (daughter): Not mine....I like (bad kid who shall remain nameless) Oh, I kinda just threw up in my mouth a little bit.
Me: Yah, there's no way (bad kid who shall remain nameless) is your fave. Swallow that vomit!
E: Oh that kid needs a good butt kicking at least twice a day.
M (daughter): Then do it already!
E: Oh I did. Yesterday I had to tackle him and sit on him until he stopped. I said, "Boyah, you bettah quit child!"
Me: ::snort:: So what you're saying is you turned all Aunt Jemima on his ass?? What's with the southern accent...did you get your switch and whip him till he squealed like a pig?"
E: Oh hush you! You should have your husband teach him a lesson.
M2: Oh yah, your husband is a little scary. That one day I came to the door to get M and he opened the door, I almost ran away screaming.
Me: That's cause you woke him up. He's like a bear waking up from hibernation. FOOD! ::scratch scratch:: WHERE'S MY BERRIES???
M (daughter): ::snort:: You even added the scratching. When he wakes me up, as he walks away, he's always scratching "something."
E: Let's stop talking about him....he's so scary, he probably senses that we're talking smack about him.
Me: Okay, this conversation doesn't reach his ears. Deal? We're all safe from the bear.
M (daughter): Hey mom, you see that tall kid in the green? That's the kid that doesn't believe in God.
Me: It's okay he doesn't believe in God.
E: He's Catholic!!! Oh and a....douchebag too.
Me: You finally learn what a douchebag was? And being a Catholic explains it. Catholic parents are like Nazis.....most kids grow out of it.
M (daughter): Yah but he's always swearing at me. He's the one who called me the "B" word.
Me: ::pulling up to the curb::pushing the button for the window down on M's side:: You want me to talk to him? I'll teach him a few new words and have him crying for his mommy.
Sidenote: As the window is slowly rolling down, all three kids in my car squeal nervously and scoot down, hiding. From an outsider looking in, I look like the only occupant of the car. The kid (the non-God believer) looks over and I ask, "What are you looking at?"
The snickers and sighs throughout the car almost give them away. Of course the fact that they actually had to get out....really gave them away.
E: Thanks a lot.
M2: Yah, I bet he's calling you the "B" word too.
M (daughter): Mother, one day, I'm going to get you back.
Me: Nah, one day, you'll be doing this to your own daughter. Have a great test day weirdos!!!
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
4/22/10
No words.....just cracking nuts.
So my phone rings yesterday and before I pressed the button, I had no idea that I was about to find out my sweet 8 year old is really a bully.
Concerned parent: Is your husband there?
Me: No, he's working.
CP: Oh, I know all about that. Is this "Miss Jean?"
Me: Um....yah, some people call me that.
CP: Well, your daughter is in my son's 2nd grade class.
Me: Okay.
CP: And your daughter called my son "gay" and kicked him in the....um....the nuts today. Then she proceeded to tell my 1st grade daughter that her brother was "gay."
Me: (GASP) Are you kidding me?
CP: I wish I was but my son just came home and mentioned it. My wife thought we needed to talk to you about it.
Me: Okay, wait. What is your son's name and clarify.
Now the clarification was who the boy was and yes, my sweet little girl did exactly what he said.
Me: I assure you, I am going to take care of this immediately.
Oh good god people, I was mortified. So after finding my daughter and telling her to get inside, I asked her point blank, "Do you have something to tell me?"
Now here is my curse, she lied immediately. Her first instinct was to lie. Her second instinct was to tell the truth. Now the truth only came out when I threatened her life and assured her that I knew the truth. Then I find out that this nutcracking thing is a neighborhood problem as well. The mouth? Yah, she's been dropping f-bombs and other bombs as well.
The outcome?
She's grounded until further notice, no TV, no computer, no iPod. She will be on a first name basis with her four walls in her room until I see fit to release her. She wrote an apology note to every person she's ever touched or swore at. Oh hand cramps!
My only question?
How completely screwed am I with this kid?
Forget it, don't answer that. She is me, reincarnated. I'm so incredibly screwed.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
Concerned parent: Is your husband there?
Me: No, he's working.
CP: Oh, I know all about that. Is this "Miss Jean?"
Me: Um....yah, some people call me that.
CP: Well, your daughter is in my son's 2nd grade class.
Me: Okay.
CP: And your daughter called my son "gay" and kicked him in the....um....the nuts today. Then she proceeded to tell my 1st grade daughter that her brother was "gay."
Me: (GASP) Are you kidding me?
CP: I wish I was but my son just came home and mentioned it. My wife thought we needed to talk to you about it.
Me: Okay, wait. What is your son's name and clarify.
Now the clarification was who the boy was and yes, my sweet little girl did exactly what he said.
Me: I assure you, I am going to take care of this immediately.
Oh good god people, I was mortified. So after finding my daughter and telling her to get inside, I asked her point blank, "Do you have something to tell me?"
Now here is my curse, she lied immediately. Her first instinct was to lie. Her second instinct was to tell the truth. Now the truth only came out when I threatened her life and assured her that I knew the truth. Then I find out that this nutcracking thing is a neighborhood problem as well. The mouth? Yah, she's been dropping f-bombs and other bombs as well.
The outcome?
She's grounded until further notice, no TV, no computer, no iPod. She will be on a first name basis with her four walls in her room until I see fit to release her. She wrote an apology note to every person she's ever touched or swore at. Oh hand cramps!
My only question?
How completely screwed am I with this kid?
Forget it, don't answer that. She is me, reincarnated. I'm so incredibly screwed.
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
4/8/10
Ah, Young Grasshoper....Go Forth and Annoy!
A lot of people that knew me when I was younger always say the same thing. "I never knew you were this funny when we were in high school." Well, let me just say, I was. I've been perfecting my comedy act since I was a six years old and my dad used to say, "You're not funny Jeanie!"
Funny thing is, my dad still doesn't think I'm funny. As I've mentioned before, karma has bit me in the butt with my youngest daughter, K. She resembles me with her dimples and her comedic wit matches me smart ass comment to the next. The sad thing is, her dad doesn't think she's funny either. I have to admit, sometimes her wit is just plain rude. Sometimes. (My dad is loving this right now by the way.)
The thing with K though is she's so dang cute that she can melt your heart with her smile and pig snort with her comebacks. I grade most of my laughs on how they come out. A pig snort means you've surprised me and oops, pig snort. :)
While in the car the other day after the infamous soccer game of sprained ankles, the girls were asking their dad why he hasn't scored a goal yet. My husband played soccer in high school. I never saw him play. I never went to his games. I didn't know him then. His "good ol' soccer days" are a mystery to me and don't make me swoon. My eyes glaze over whenever he talks about his soccer days. Here is why my daughter K is me and why my husband has morphed into my dad.
Husband: Even when I played before, I never scored then either. They didn't count assists but I was really good at dribbling down the field and passing it to the scorer.
K: What position was that?
Husband: I was midfield. I ran anywhere I wanted and did everything.
K: Aren't I midfield?
Husband: Yep, you're center midfield.
K: Um.....I score. What was your excuse? Looks like the master has suddenly become the cockroach.
Me: I think you mean grasshopper.
Husband: I think she meant she's in need of an ass beating.
K: Yes on the grasshopper, No on the bootie beating.
Now you see, I thought that was genius. One, she's so damn cute and misspoke the grasshopper line. Two, she completely obliterated her daddy's "good ol' soccer days" with her own accomplishments.
Her dad on the other hand had no comeback other than to threaten a beat down.
In my opinion? Freaking score for K!
It truly is the passing of the torch. My young padiwan has become the master. God help you all......there are two of us!
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
Funny thing is, my dad still doesn't think I'm funny. As I've mentioned before, karma has bit me in the butt with my youngest daughter, K. She resembles me with her dimples and her comedic wit matches me smart ass comment to the next. The sad thing is, her dad doesn't think she's funny either. I have to admit, sometimes her wit is just plain rude. Sometimes. (My dad is loving this right now by the way.)
The thing with K though is she's so dang cute that she can melt your heart with her smile and pig snort with her comebacks. I grade most of my laughs on how they come out. A pig snort means you've surprised me and oops, pig snort. :)
While in the car the other day after the infamous soccer game of sprained ankles, the girls were asking their dad why he hasn't scored a goal yet. My husband played soccer in high school. I never saw him play. I never went to his games. I didn't know him then. His "good ol' soccer days" are a mystery to me and don't make me swoon. My eyes glaze over whenever he talks about his soccer days. Here is why my daughter K is me and why my husband has morphed into my dad.
Husband: Even when I played before, I never scored then either. They didn't count assists but I was really good at dribbling down the field and passing it to the scorer.
K: What position was that?
Husband: I was midfield. I ran anywhere I wanted and did everything.
K: Aren't I midfield?
Husband: Yep, you're center midfield.
K: Um.....I score. What was your excuse? Looks like the master has suddenly become the cockroach.
Me: I think you mean grasshopper.
Husband: I think she meant she's in need of an ass beating.
K: Yes on the grasshopper, No on the bootie beating.
Now you see, I thought that was genius. One, she's so damn cute and misspoke the grasshopper line. Two, she completely obliterated her daddy's "good ol' soccer days" with her own accomplishments.
Her dad on the other hand had no comeback other than to threaten a beat down.
In my opinion? Freaking score for K!
It truly is the passing of the torch. My young padiwan has become the master. God help you all......there are two of us!
If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.
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