Wednesday, October 19, 2011

The Last Straw

Ok...so something happened yesterday that...I guess if it happened to be someone else's kid (yours, for example) I would think it was funny-  really, really funny.  And to tell you the whole truth, I did laugh.  Because I just was NOT expecting it but...

During outside play yesterday, one of my littles slipped into my house and locked the back door.  This is not an unusual occurrence, so I had a plan of action, but the way I found out the door was locked was because my sweet Baby C (His nickname is 'Demon'.  The 'sweet' part might be pushing it), the littlest of them all, took the pacifier out of his mouth, looked me right in the eye and said very clearly "Someone locked the fucking door."

Followed by "Hey, mom the fucking door is locked."  That's just the icing on the cake folks- the night before last he let loose with a string of swear words.  Yes.  He knows enough to make a string.

I know.  Worst. Mom. Ever.  So I'm going to enlist your help, if you know me in real life.  If you don't, just skip this next part and go on about your day with the satisfaction of knowing that you're a better parent than I am.  But if you know me in real life and you hear me say a swear word, please punch me in the arm or if you hit really hard, make me give you a dollar.  (Frank:  you're disqualified from punching me or taking my money because I can predict exactly what would happen:  you'll goad me into swearing and then gleefully punch the shit out of me or take all of my money for 'swearing back pay.')  Also, I need to be able to WRITE swear words so anything that is written, either on here or in real life doesn't count.  Also, if I have PMS, sometimes swearing is the only thing that keeps me from murdering people, so just make sure I don't do it around my kids.  I already don't do it around other people's kids, so this should be a breeze, right??

Also, please remember I bruise like a fucking peach and I don't have a shitload of money. 

This may be harder than I thought...

Monday, October 17, 2011

The List (Official)

Ok...all the debating is over.  I've decided on my final list and now I'm going to share it with you.  This is NOT a list of my favorite musicians- we all know what this list is about.  There is a content warning on my blog, for Pete's sake!  AND before anybody yips about how rude this is to do to Frank, let me just tell you he has his OWN list- and it begins and ends with Carrie Underwood.  He did not give his list much thought.  I however, did.

1.  Matt Montgomery- because I'm his favorite rock star mom. Ya heard me FAVORITE.  It's that easy folks.  Actually, it reminds me of this time when I watched a documentary on HBO about how mean pig farmers were to their livestock.  It disgusted me so badly that I swore off of pig for about two days.  Then I caved because pigs are delicious.  So now you know- Piggy D is delicious and I can't ever veer far away for long.  That's all I have to say about that.  Except that I've been a fan of his for years so he had to be number one.  Plus he has awesome guy hair and I KNOW he smells like cotton candy and sunshine.  Plus we had a moment (I KNOW, ok, but I'm going to have Wenifer write a note because she witnessed the whole thing.  And NO it doesn't matter if he knows me from a rat's ass- this is ALL about me.  You should be used to this by now.)

2.  Dj Ashba- Oh, the debate between numbers one and two- I wish there could be a tie.  But I think second place on my list is a pretty good place to end up.  He is so gorgeous it's impossible to look at him for a long time without becoming cross eyed.  Plus, he signed an entire poster to me, too.  (See??  Easy cheesy!)  He's...so gorgeous that I can't think of words to describe it.  Me, chatty chatterton at a loss for words.  Imagine!  But seriously, he has the looks thing plus he seems like he's really funny and down to earth.  I'm sure he smells delicious, too.

3.  Joey Jordison- totally love this guy but never noticed him til he started playing guitar (Note:  most of my favorite musicians are drummers...this is a different list)  He's sinister (love), wears a mask (scares me so love that, too) and he plays drums like a demon on speed.  Maybe he is, I don't care, the point is, he's gorgeous, too.  Plus, without the make up, he looks like a regular guy...like, from Iowa or somewhere.  Plus his charisma gets me.  He seems like he's a cocky little mess and I love him for that!

4.  Dave Grohl- Please don't yell at me, but I hated Nirvana.  I wasn't a huge fan of Dave's until this past year when I saw the Foo Fighters live. Now, I'm a goner.  I would climb him like a tree.  If he's tall.  Otherwise, I'd climb him like a shrub, which still sounds fun.  When I saw the documentary of the making of their last record, there's a scene where his daughter comes in to tell him it's time to go swimming while he was in the middle of recording.  I expected him to act like an asshole.  All he did was laugh.  And then take his daughter swimming.  Swoon.  Plus, live and in person, he is dreamy times a thousand.

5.  Wednesday 13-  If you mix Peter Criss and Eddie Munster in a blender, it would be Wednesday 13.  Except, Wednesday sings and as far as I know, he doesn't play the drums, but if he does that just proves my point- I prefer a little 'creepy' (rock star creepy, not dude at Quick Trip creepy) and he's exactly the right amount.  Plus, he's the ONLY guy I know of who looks good without eyebrows.  Also seems really funny (from the 'Mad Manager' videos. From a lot of videos.  He's campy and I'm all over it)

How Having Sons Turned Me Into a Dude...Kind Of

Anyone who knew me BBC (Before the Baby C's) knows first hand that I'm the girliest girl in the world.  I have daytime perfume and bedtime perfume.  My favorite color is sparkly followed by pink.  I occasionally wear bows in my hair...and I think it rocks!  I own a tutu (yes, it's for an adult)The first time my hubby took me to an OU game, I asked him when someone was going to hit a home run (that isn't a lie- ask him. He loves to tell the story)  But I've noticed lately that something inside me is...slipping toward the dark side.

I use the term 'ball's out' liberally in conversation. And I'm aware it's referring to testicles.  I also say 'jerking off' as in 'stop jerking off and get in the car!'  I barely bat an eye when the oldest Baby C does his Ace Ventura 'Let me asssssk you a question' routine buck naked, legs behind his head.  I can burp the alphabet (I know, I know...really classy but that one was in self defense...it's a long story.)  I've had to say 'Wash your penis and your butt and also your face.  But wash your face FIRST' so much that it's an automatic response whenever one of my children (or my husband- I'm not gonna lie) gets in the bath.  I'm no longer afraid of balls flying at my face.  Yeah- you heard me BALLS!  I can't say 'pick up your balls' or anything else that even remotely sounds dirty even when it isn't because it makes me have a case of church giggles.  (That might be because I'm extremely immature.)  It makes sense to me that the babiest Baby C needs a cheerio to pee on in the potty because I 'get' that men need targets. 

Nothing takes the 'girl' out of you faster than watching your son play football. You WILL yell 'Rip his heart out!  Eat it while it's still beating!' Of course then  there's the embarrassment of having another parent point out that it's just practice and you're encouraging the cannibalism of his own teammates, but that's irrelevant.  The point is, having boys around makes you more aggressive, too.  I've wrestled my way through cooking dinner (I can soooo shoot for the knees AND cook spaghetti- the kids have weak knees- they go down like flies).  I've wrestled my way through the grocery store, doctor's appointments and car trips.  I fear nothing! 

But I really love all of the things it has taught me about boys.  Men, too of course.  I love how loving my sons has made me love my husband more.  I feel like I understand so much more about men's needs than I used to- men want to kill something, blow something up or wrestle.  Then, they want a sandwich.  They may also want to start a fire. (if they're a pyro- the babiest Baby C is so a pyro...I'll let you know how that one turns out)

The point I'm trying to make here is about tolerance, my friends- boys need an awful lot of it!