"Words of Wisdom" or Whatever...

"They" say the first year of marriage is the toughest year...and whoever "they" are may be on to something...but WE TOTALLY MADE IT!

Not everyone can say they married their best friend TWICE

This past weekend, Joe and I celebrated our one year wedding anniversary...and this year was certainly one to celebrate...we earned it. It was a roller coaster of a year, full of highs (eloping/honeymooning in the most beautiful, lavish place we've ever been, buying our first home, partying at a wonderful reception thrown by my in-laws) and lows (the infamous Christmas Tree Incident of 2012* and that one time we got in a fight because Joe didn't kiss me goodbye and I tried to prove a point by staying out all night long but got tired and bored and hungry after an hour at Target and was home by 6:30) BUT WE MADE IT!

We're still rookies at this whole marriage thing and like everyone tried to tell us before we tied the knot, it's hard work. We fight sometimes. We get over it. And every day we learn something new about each other...and about ourselves. For instance, just last week Joe and I BOTH learned that if he tries to exit the room during an argument, I will throw a book at him...not AT him...but in his general direction**...I didn't know I was gonna do it, he didn't know I was gonna do it. Live and learn. That being said, I've come up with a few marriage "Do's and Don'ts" for me to reference when I'm feeling feisty...

DON'T throw books at each other....
It didn't go over well...plus it's a little crazy and not very nice. 

DO go to bed angry...
The number one piece of advice that EVERYONE gives at weddings and bridal showers is not to go to bed angry...I think that's some seriously unrealistic bullshit. These are my LEAST favorite "words of wisdom" ever. For Joe and I, late night arguments tend to start because we're tired and therefore, irritable (go figure). If we tried to stay awake until we were no longer angry, we would be up all night arguing and getting more tired and more irritable, creating an endless cycle of tiredness and irritability (hide all the books). When we DO go to bed angry, we usually wake up in the morning feeling refreshed and more often than not, we forget what we were even angry about in the first place. It's hard and feels very unnatural at first, to go to bed angry...but Joe can now do it in .05 seconds flat.

DON'T yell...
I have a strong belief system and tend to get pretty passionate about ummmmm...EVERYTHING. Naturally, Joe and I don't see eye to eye on some things so we often get into little debates... the topics range from the existence of Jesus to whether or not  it's okay for women to have their own gyms. It doesn't matter whether I'm advocating for Curves or arguing that a human being cannot die and then come back to life, I get just as equally amped up...I start talking louder and louder and louder...thinking the increased decibels will convince my opponent when really, I'm just yelling. Not only does the yelling NOT make my point any stronger or more convincing, but I look bat shit crazy.

DO focus on the good stuff...
During one of my psychology classes in college, I learned that bad emotions and negative situations have more of an impact on people than the positive. It actually takes your brain more time to process bad things which makes them easier to remember...which is SO fucked up, RIGHT? When Joe and I get into an argument, my mind works like that. I hone in on all the bad memories...like that time he told me I had a unibrow or when he asks why my breath smells which isn't fair because that man picks up poop for me! And changes the oil in my car! And vacuums a lot. He calls me beautiful every single day and he even cooked dinner for me on Valentine's Day this year and sprinkled rose petals all over the house. It may be easier to remember the bad stuff but putting the effort into focusing on the good stuff helps put the bad in a little more perspective.
The act of picking up dog poop > Telling me I have a unibrow...ANYDAY.
 
DO watch the opening scene from the movie "Up"...
Okay this one sounds weird but hear me out. One day Joe and I were bickering about...pssht who knows what but there we were...at a standoff. Neither one of us talking to the other. Sitting in the living room. Watching TV. In silence. Then this movie starts...

...and oh my god. We both looked at each other (me crying...the emotional train wreck that I am) and whatever we were arguing about was squashed because...really? I mean...really. This is what it's all about. Having a partner in life...who's there by your side through all your shit... good AND bad...who knows you better than anyone else. Seriously...if I'm on my deathbed and Joe's there sending me messages attached to helium balloons, I WILL DIE HAPPY.

Marriage may be hard work...but nothing worth having comes easy and one year later, here we are...eating an oddly delicious but at the same time disgusting frozen cake...and it's totally worth it.


*stay tuned for a blog post about this festive debacle

**the book was titled "Guilty Wives" which is a strangely appropriate title to be thrown at your husband in the middle of a heated argument

Toddler Boys

I am so very blessed to have been given a girl and a boy.  I am done and I get the best of both worlds.  I was always more inclined on having a boy though.  I have two brothers, most of my closest friends in high school and college were guys.  I get guys.  I like them they have no drama and they don't think I am a threat.  So, when my second child was born and he was a boy I was thrilled!  I could have had all boys and been good with it but I am definitely glad I got to buy all the pretty dresses and shoes for my daughter. 

Now I know why parents "Baby Proof" their houses.  My daughter never crawled and went right into walking and never left my side.  She never got into anything and never really cared about much unless it had to do with me.  My son on the other hand, not good.  He is into everything and I mean everything!  I used to make fun of parents that had all the plugs in outlets and clips on toilets and rubber foam on their tables.  Well I get it now.  While my husband was in the shower my son decided to throw his underwear in the toilet.  Guess who had to get them out?  He loves the toilet.  He thinks it is great to put stuff in it and he really loves to play with the water that just hangs out.  I am afraid of the toilet clips.  I have seen some of them and an adult has trouble getting them open.  What happens when you have a sudden case of diarrhea and you can't get the clip off?  Or in my case you sneeze and pee yourself and need to get on the toilet?  I don't want to wake up in the middle of the night and have to fight with a toilet clip.  Not really something I look forward too.  He also likes to be naked.  I really wouldn't mind if he was potty trained but he is not even a year old yet.  He was in his crib the other day and took off his pants and diaper and peed in his crib all over everything before I could get him covered!  Those little ding-a-lings really like to spray everywhere!!  I have had to clean curtains and walls and doors because of that!

He loves digging through the bathroom drawers and cupboards while I am in the shower.  His latest thing, throwing Q-tips in the shower.  I have found them everywhere!  I even found some in his crib.  Some how he managed to break open the Q-tip box and I haven't seen them since.  What Q-tips I had left, I had to put in a zip lock bag so he couldn't get into them.  I do have locks on the cupboard where all the cleaning products are so at least he won"t poison himself.

AND Boys are dumb!  If my daughter did anything that hurt her, she never did it again.  She is that way still.  My son, he would just keep doing it over and over and over.  He loves to jump around on the couch.  He thinks it is his own wrestling arena.  He fell off one day before I could grab him and of course the world was coming to an end.  I gave him kisses and cuddled with him and all was good and doesn't the little turd go right back to doing it all over again!  WTF??!!  Do you keep letting him get hurt until he gets it or do you just give in and pile a bunch of pillows around the area so he can't get hurt?

Boys have this charming way about them that just makes you melt.  My son knows when he is in trouble and he just gives you this look and smile that will melt your heart and you don't even know why you are mad in the first place.  Boys suck!  lol!  He hits his sister and for some reason I am yelling at her.  No wonder boys are so loved by their mothers!  I tell you what though, the day some hoochy 15 year old walks into my house with short shorts and her boobs hanging out, you better pray.  My daughter has plenty of people looking out for her including and ex-Marine and a Sheriff.  I on the other hand will be there to protect my son.  No skanky girls for this boy!

Teenage boys will be another post I am sure.


Dana

Wal-Mart Adventures

I don't know if it is just me but for some reason my children seem to attract all the weirdo's out there, especially on our lovely adventures to Wal-Mart.  I HATE Wal-Mart.  Truly.  I have to need something really badly in order to go to Wal-Mart.  Parking sucks, there are never any cash register lines open and the "Self Check-Out" is a joke.  I tried it once and I guess I am dumb but I set off the buzzer after every damn item I tried to scan.  At one point the helper person just stayed with me until I was done because she had to reset the computer so many times.  Plus I had a coupon which I guess is a big NO NO at Self Check-Out.  Won't do that again.  I like to breeze in and out of a store and Wal-Mart is not the place you can do that.  And for some reason I always end up spending way more money than I intended too.  I am thinking it is because Wal-Mart has too many things to offer so I go a little crazy.

One time I was cornered by a couple that clearly had some sort of disability but I am not quite sure what kind.  They were interested in my children and asked what their names were.  I told them and they could not quite grasp the name Brett (my son).  They guy said Brent and I said no Brett.  And he said Bred and I said no Brett.  And he said Brent again and I said Yes.  They finally moved along and I think for the first time in 5 years my daughter was speechless.  She knew not to stare but they kept asking her questions but she really couldn't understand what they were saying so she didn't say anything at all.  I told them she was shy.  After they left I don't think she knew what to do.  I just said just be polite and smile. 

Have you ever seen those Wal-Mart videos they do showing all the classy people that come through Wal-Mart?  I am probably on there.  I have been trying to blend in hoping that nobody will talk to me or my kids.  So far it seems to be working or I am just too scary for people to approach. 

My latest adventure included my grandmother.  I love her.  She is great and she loves to say whatever is on her mind no matter the consequences.  She means well but she definitely crosses the line once in a while.  She has to do trips to Wal-Mart once a week.  She has a system down and she mostly goes to get her 5 liters of Diet Ginger ale.  They have the best price don't you know?  Some how I was volunteered to take her one week.  I really don't mind.  I figure it is good practice for when my parents become that age and they need my help.  Well what I thought was going to be a quick trip turned into a 2 hour adventure.  She had a coupon for Tylenol.  At some point during our rounds she lost the coupon.  Doesn't the stubborn old woman retrace all of her steps to find the damn coupon?  I mean we went back our every steps.  She finally figured she lost and decided to give up.  She placed the Tylenol on a random shelf in an isle.  She couldn't get it unless she had the coupon.   We were rounding the corner just about to get in line when she said, "let me check one more place."  Sure as shit she found the freaking coupon!  Now she had to go back to find what isle she left the Tylenol in!  Her memory was better than I gave her credit for because she knew exactly what isle she left the Tylenol in.  THANK GOD!  We made it to check out and didn't look back!  Of course I had both of my kids with me who were not too pleased but I had to give her credit because she didn't give up!

Wal-Mart Adventures.

Dana

Relax Mom...

I was watching Katie Couric the other day and this mother was being interviewed about a magazine article she was in recently talking about the fact that she has to take an anti depressant on a regular basis. Well apparently it was a huge deal to a group of mother's out there and she was receiving a lot of back lash.  To the point where she was actually told she shouldn't be a mother because she was taking medication.

WHAT THE F**K??!!!  How dare you criticize someone because they need to be on medication to make it through the day.  Have you ever had postpartum depression?  It is bad.  I had it after my daughter and my doctor suggested a pill but I preferred not to be on one but I don't have anything against anyone that does. It can be mild or very severe.  I just cried all the time. I would show up on my parents door step in tears with my daughter in my hands. And FYI...We have no control over it or if we get it.  It is completely out of our hands and not our fault!  I fought my way out of it myself.  If a mother needs to take a pill so she doesn't harm herself or her children then so be it.  Who are we to judge someone that is making a smart decision.  So she can't be a mother because she is on a pill?  Seriously.  What is it with some of you mother's out there?  I can't believe how some people are these days. 

I was reading a blog a few months ago and the answers some of these mother's respond to just make me want to drink.  A mother actually had a huge problem with people putting babies in a swing.  Really?  Do we not have anything better to do.  She actually said that it would delay your child's development and cause problems down the road.  Am I the only laughing about this? Apparently I don't read enough because I just don't get it.  Get a life. 

I try not to associate myself with too many people, especially specific mother's.  I try to avoid being put in a bad situation and gravitate towards mom's that are more like me.  I am young and I wasn't married when I had my daughter but I don't think that makes me any less of a mother.  I like to drink and I tend to indulge in a cigarette from time to time but it does not affect my children in any way shape or form.

Perfect example.  I watch a little girl after school that just happens to be friends with my daughter.  I get paid for it and the mom gets to send her child to a safe place.  Well for the most part.  This is the kinda mom I like to be around.  She had her daughter out of wed lock and didn't plan on having any kids but it happened and she dealt with it.  She doesn't judge and I don't judge.  This poor little girl has been through the ringer at my house.  The first time she came over, my daughter made her cry.  (Now just a side note, I know I wrote about bullies in my previous post so I am clarifying that my daughter is not a bully but she is also not perfect.  She does receive punishment when necessary whether it is a spanking, time out or I take something from her that is dear to her heart.)  I explained the situation to her mother and she was like "It happens.  No biggie".  The second incident was a few weeks ago when my daughter decided to use the lovely word B***H in front of her.  I almost lost my marbles and was very embarrassed and yet again, this mother tells me about the time her daughter used that word.  She wasn't mad, she understood and she just brushed it off.  Now, I am a very straight forward person so I keep her very up to date about the things that go on and don't try to hide anything.  I figure it is just better that way.  The latest incident was just the other day.  The girls got home from school and immediately went out to the play ground.  I just happen to look out the window and my daughter has her shorts and under wear off in the middle of our yard.  I asked what she was doing and she says "peeing".  Great.  My daughter has peed outside before so it wasn't something new to her but I really thought she new a little better than to pee outside in our own backyard and it front of the rush hour traffic.  Sometimes peeing outside is better than a porta john or it is necessary in a specific moment but that wasn't one of those moments.  Just lovely.  So as the little girl and her mom are leaving, I say "Oh by the way..if your daughter starts peeing outside, that would be because she learned it from my daughter."  And she simply says "ok".  She doesn't ask any questions, she doesn't get mad, nothing.  Now that is my kinda mother and she stills sends her child to my house!

I think some of these women need a glass of wine or two and mind their own damn business!
RELAX

Dana

What has this world come to?

So I know me and Lauren write blogs to make people laugh and tell our stupid stories but my next few blogs are going to be downers.  I have to get this off my chest because it is really bothering me.  I might make some people mad too but hey, that is what freedom of speech is for!

My daughter started kindergarten last week.  She is there all day long and takes the bus in the morning and the afternoon.  I cried my eyes out.  Not just because she is my oldest and this is the first time I have gone through something like this but because I am completely terrified for her.  Since when is it no ok that your child is not even safe in school anymore?  Since when has bullying and cyber bullying become so bad that we have to have shows about it?  Since when is it ok that I have to check a website regularly to see if there are any pedophiles that live in my area or the area of the school?

Let me tell you something.  The day I get a phone call telling me that my daughter's school was held hostage by a crazy gun person and several children and teacher's were killed....that SOB better kill himself for I will be killing him MYSELF.  And quite honestly I blame that psycho's parents.  There is something wrong if a kid shoots up an elementary school because he is mad at his mom.  Hello?  Did Momma not see any signs that the kid might need some help?  Maybe when your kid starts setting things on fire for no reason or starts torturing animals you might want to get them some help.  Also, spanking is not a bad thing.  Me and my brothers were spanked every time we deserved it and we turned out just fine.  I am married, have two children and my bachelor's degree in Marketing/Management, my younger brother is married and a Sheriff and my youngest brother just started his freshman year at Mount St. Vincent and was accepted into their nursing program.  So get over it.  My daughter has been spanked and I am sure my son will need one too.  A mother especially should know there child and you know when something is wrong and they need help.  Get it together people or stop having kids!

My daughter's good friend was choked by a younger boy the other day in school while standing in line waiting for the bus.  She actually had bruises on her neck.  Guess what?  That ever happens to my daughter I will be knocking on that parent's door and you better be ready.  Nobody messes with my kids.  I don't care if it is online or in school.  I will be coming for that child and that parent.  I already had to deal with a problem child in preschool.  My daughter didn't want to go to school because a boy was hitting her and saying bad words to her.  So, I wrote a note to the teacher and explained that my daughter had my permission to protect herself and if it didn't get taken care of I would take care of it myself.  My daughter never had a problem again.  I tell my daughter almost every day to never let any one touch her and she has my complete permission to fight back when necessary.  I know teachers don't always see or hear everything so I really don't put the blame on them, but it is just sad to have to think about stuff like that with 5 year olds.  Again, where are the parents?

One of my biggest fears in life is my children being molested or kidnapped.  I worry every day about it.  I watch movies and shows I probably shouldn't but I want to be as proactive as I can about things like that.  I regularly check the pedophile website so to speak and get alerts when one moves into the area.  As soon as my daughter was old enough she learned where her private parts were and no one was to touch them.  I remind her daily too.  I have my brother who is the Sheriff talk to her constantly as well.  She knows how to fight and scream if she needs and she knows to never leave anywhere especially school with anyone.  I tell her each and every day you are to get on the bus and you are to leave on the bus.  If there is a change I usually start letting her know way in advance.  I will do the same with my son.  It makes me so sick some of the things people do to children and most of the time they were molested at some point in their life as well.  There is no excuse but if the cycle could have been broken I bet there wouldn't be as many molesters or rapist out there today.  Again Parenting. 

Protect you children.  Be there for your children.  Look for signs that they need help.  Sometimes it is more than "just a phase".


Dana

Bitch Please

I got some news this morning. Bad news.

As soon as Joe told me, I knew I had to write about it...because it's not necessarily funny-ha-ha...but it's definitely a "that WOULD happen to Lauren" story.

PLUS, I've been working like crazy for 12 days straight, making the line between what would be considered funny and what's completely depressing slightly blurred.

Annnnnnnd I haven't written a blog in a while. So this is all I got!

We ALL know I hate my job. It's really a broken record at this point and I hate myself every time I say it but I mean, for REAL. Every minute that passes and I'm sitting at my desk doing NOTHING except waiting for someone to show me mercy by requesting a photocopy is like dying a slow and painful death.

My PopPops once said that working a shitty job was like, "hitting yourself in the head with a hammer all day because it feels so good when you stop." That never made sense to me until I became a receptionist....because every time the phone rings, I feel like I'm getting bashed in the face with some kind of heavy instrument (hence the slow and painful death). I get it.

Preach on PopPops, preach.

Anyway, after two years of applying for hundreds of jobs and my hard earned Bachelor's Degree gathering dust, it finally seemed like there was some light shining at the end of the tunnel...because I landed an interview! I landed the holy grail of interviews with the county government! I studied up on the position, practiced the perfect answers to all the typical interview questions, planned a professional interview outfit....I even paid twenty bucks for a manicure in a conservative "nude" shade because the Career Center at my college said any other color for an interview was "distracting and off-putting" AKA skankalicious. I was prepared to sell the shit out of my nude-nailed-self.

Unfortunately I'm not black.

A couple weeks went by and I had heard nothing. Assuming I blew the interview, I kind of shrugged it off and chocked it up as another loss. Then I learned (from a couple of my husband's connections) that it was between me and another chick - we were the top two candidates. This made the anticipation even worse. It really could happen. I e-mailed the director of Human Resources to make sure he knew how interested I was and asked if a decision had been made.

I should have known when I never got a response.

Then this morning Joe told me. He said he wanted me to hear it from him instead of in a rejection letter, or worse, never hearing anything at all. The position had gone to a black woman, not based on credentials or that she interviewed better than me....it was simply because the county needed a more diverse candidate.

Now, I harbor no resentment to this lady at all. I'm sure she was extremely qualified for the position and she will do a great job but I can't stop thinking about how everything would have been different if only they had known that I am, in fact, black on the inside.

I've given this situation a lot of thought and, in an effort to avoid this heartache next time around, I've decided to make some changes to the "Additional Skills and Information" section of my resume. It now looks a little something like this:

Additional Skills and Information

• Ability to accurately rap any Nicki Minaj song on command
• I've never passed up an opportunity to dance to The Wobble or The Cupid Shuffle
• If I'm drunk enough, I can even do them properly
• When I was little, I used to BEG my mom to buy me a black baby doll
• 2 out of my 6 preset radio stations are of the hip-hop variety
• Certified Whooty (white girl with a booty)

 
I think this will clear up a lot of confusion for any interviews I embark on in the future.

Mommy Dearest

I don't know if it is just me or if this happens to most people but my parents have really become very relaxed in their old age (not really that old, neither one of them has hit 50 yet) and their parenting rules really go out the window.  I have noticed that with my children my parents really don't use any parental skills at all.  It is pretty much free rein.  I know they are grandparents and it is their job to spoil and what not with their kids but I figured some sort of rules would still apply.  Apparently not. I think parents really take the term grandparents way too far and think they can get away with a lot of stuff that shouldn't be allowed.  For example, I was at my parents the other day and immediately my father puts my son in the high chair and feeds him cinnamon gram crackers and chocolate cookies.  Now my son is 8 months old and probably should not be eating this stuff but he is a hog and a big boy and has been on solids since his was 3 months old.  That is really not my concern anyways.  I was more concerned with the fact that my father fed my son all this stuff for about an hour and then when he is done, my father walks away.  Suddenly he forgot he has something to do and now I am left with a child that looks like he went through Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory.  How amazing.  You feed him the crap and now I am left cleaning him up.  Feeding him is the easy part, cleaning him up and the surrounding area, not so fun.  Thanks Dad.

My mother is the worst of all.  She doesn't think she is but she is.  My daughter is the Diva she is today because of my mother.  She yells at me for spoiling her all the time but you can guarantee that if my daughter walks in to a store with my mother she will be getting something, if not one thing then a few things.  It has gotten to the point where every time my mother comes to our house, my daughter has her hand out expecting something and usually gets it.  This particular day though, I was really taken back by my mother.  We are having breakfast at a local diner with my brother and his wife.  My son is playing with all the spoons (because he is at that point now where he needs to be doing something if he is not eating) and eventually drops all the spoons that were on the table on the floor.  I am in conversation with my brother and look over at my son and noticed that he was now playing with a knife.  My mother thought it would be a good idea to give the 7 month old a knife.  Her response "It's just a butter knife, It's not like it will hurt him."  Really?  I don't even know what to say at this point.  I take the knife from my son and tell my mother that I am putting this in the blog and she says "YOU BETTER NOT!"  Karma sucks.

This is kinda off point but I had to throw this in somewhere because it was just too good to ignore.  My husband was taking a shower one day and my daughter had to get something out of the bathroom.  She was trying to go in and my husband said just wait I am taking a shower.  She is getting to the age where she really shouldn't be seeing Daddy naked but she doesn't understand that yet.  So my daughter says "UUGGHH Dad, it's ok, it's not like I haven't' seen your little whoohoo before!"  My husband says "Excuse me?"  And she says "Dad I have seen your LITTLE whoohoo before!"  I am in the kitchen trying to feed my son laughing hysterically!  My husband obviously does not find the comment very amusing but I just couldn't help myself.  Kids!!


Dana

BAD HAIR DAY!!

All right ladies now I know that everyone has had their bad hair days.  We have all been through it and we will continue to go through it, especially after you have kids.  Your hair is not even the hair you remember in high school.  Some women get lucky and it becomes thicker and softer and flows and the color itself is like one out of a movie.  Then there is the other sad few that get screwed.  It starts to fall out, you lose your bounce and the color has turned into a pinch between brown poop and Pippie Long Stocking.  I have had several bad hair days but there are a few that really stick out (and I mean literally) that I just have to mention.

My lovely Sister-in-law reminded me the other day of the time I bought the ethnic hair conditioner (and I am using the word ethnic because I don't want to insult anyone and I don't want to use the incorrect term) and I really didn't know it.  You know how in the shampoo/conditioner isle you have miles and miles of the white person stuff and then there is the tiny section of the ethnic area?  Well I was in search of a new conditioner and I wandered to the fine line of white and ethnic area.  I was eyeing this conditioner that really wasn't in the ethnic section and really wasn't in the white section.  It said that it was very nourishing and good for dry hair and the price was good plus it was a pink bottle and I couldn't resist.  I looked at it for a long while because I really was in a debate with myself of whether it was for the white's or different race.  There was no picture on the bottle and it did not say anywhere that it was meant for people of different ethnicities.  (again trying to be politically correct)  So I went ahead and purchased it.  The first time I used it I thought in the shower that it was great.  My hair felt smooth and I didn't have any snarls and I thought AWEOME, I just found a new conditioner that is cheap and works great.  Then I blow dried.  Well let me just say that Diana Ross had nothing on me.  My hair could have been in a rap video.  I had no idea that it could even get to the potential.  It looked like I had teased it for hours and then added some Hair Net for another couple of hours.  And let me just say, I have blonde hair and it is very fine so this was really a new look for me.  I had to be at work so I had no time to try and fix it, not to mention I didn't even know where to start.  I was a bartender at the time and when I walked in one of my regulars asked me if I was going dancing or to the club later.  I said "No why?"  And he said "Your hair looks like you might be going dancing or getting wild later."  I just pretended like I was trying something new and I meant for it to look like that.  I was at my brother's and my sister-in-laws that following weekend and brought the conditioner and used it to show them what it did to my hair.  They all agreed it was not meant for my hair type.  A few weeks later a friend of mine (who is also my hair stylist and knew the story) sent me a picture of that same conditioner clearly in the ethnic section.  Live and learn I guess.

A few months ago I decided that I was going back to coloring my own hair.  I just do highlights and all through college I had a roommate do it for me using one of the kits and never had a problem.  It saved a ton of money and time.  When I met my lovely husband he would pay for me to get it done and take care of me but after the kids I just don't have the time.  Call me crazy but it is too much to try and find a babysitter and then pay them for me to sit in a salon for hours and hours listening to someone talk that I really don't want to talk to.  So I decided I would go back to doing it myself.  Everything was going great and the color was looking good until one day I got lazy.  I decided instead of pulling my hair through a cap I would just use the highlighting kit and just color my roots.  Why not right?  BIG MISTAKE.  The top of my head was white, like printer paper white and the rest of my hair was a normal blonde.  So instead of just going through the process again and pulling my hair through the cap to even it out, I decided that I will buy a blonde dye and tone down the white.  Well I learned that I can't use a blonde dye on white hair, it turns my hair orange.  So now instead of the top of my head being white, it was ORANGE.  Great so now what?  So stubborn me goes back to the store and buys a root touch up thinking I could just put it on the orange part and it would blend in.  Nope not really.  It more mixed then blended.  I ended up just coloring the normal part of my hair darker and it really did nothing for the orange part at all.  I figured I should give my hair a break seeing how I just colored it 3 times in two days but that didn't last long.  My mother in law really let me know how it looked when she saw me and her faced pretty much dropped to the ground and she said "What the hell did you do to your hair?"  So off to the store again but this time I bought the highlighting kit and said I will not be lazy I will pull hair through and make this right.  One of my friends that I was telling this story to asked me "At one point did you just think maybe I should go get this fixed professionally?" No of course not!  I was bound and determined to fix this myself and still save money, my hair on the other hand, not really feeling the same.  So I get the kit and I'm at home, the baby finally fell asleep so I had two hours to get this done.  As I am mixing the stuff together and getting ready for the cap I noticed that they forget to put in the tool that you use to pull the hair through.  Now I have a dilemma.  I know that the store that I just bought this from only had one left, so I could return it but then I wouldn't be able to get the same kit.  I could get my money back and buy it some where else but that would just take too much time.  So, I look through the junk drawer and find a screw.  I looked at the cap and then at the screw and said "why not?".  I used a freaking screw to pull my hair through the little holes.  It worked.  It took some time but it was successful.  I lost a good chuck of hair and had to do some major damage control but my hair came out a normal blonde color.  I was afraid every time I showered that I would just find clumps of hair in the drain but to my astonishment it wasn't too bad.  I have yet to color it again but I am do soon and I know now that I CANNOT be lazy and worse case scenario, you can use a screw to pull your hair through the cap.

Live and Learn.


Dana

It Could Happen.....

So you know how some of those scary movies have scenes that people watch and totally think or even say...that would never happen in real life?  Like the chick with the white tank top on and big boobs running through the woods getting chased by a chain saw guy and then it starts to rain and then she trips on some rusty piece of junk that would never be there in real life?  Well my brother had one of those moments and it was so bad that I actually had to say "That's the stuff that happens in a scary movie and you say that would never happen"  Well it did and he lived through it. 

My brother is a Sheriff and I really wish I could talk about a lot of the stuff he does and sees but for privacy reasons and laws I am not allowed.  Let's just say though that the show Cops doesn't even touch on some of the stuff my brother sees and does.  I get a phone call from him one day and he says you would never believe what happened to me the other night.  He proceeds to tell me that he got a call to go check out a warehouse that had their security alarm going off.  As a Deputy he has to go in and inspect and make sure everything is ok but most of the time it is usually a bogus call.  As he was walking around the dark warehouse all alone his flash light goes out.  Then he says he tried to make a call on the radio and the radio when out! So he is alone in the dark warehouse with no flash light and no radio!  I immediately started laughing.  And of course he did not find that very amusing but I couldn't help myself.  I was like don't you realize that you should have been in a movie and half the people in the audience would be like that would never happen!!!  But I guess now it can.  So don't always mock the horror movie some things can really come true!  He managed to use the light on his cell phone to find his way out and all was good.

Also, if you ever come in contact with a snake and happen to have pepper spray on you, they don't like it.  Another story from my brother.  The big bad Sheriff was once again in a warehouse and came face to face with a big black snake (not really sure what kind or if it was really dangerous but that was just how he described it) and he said the snake looked at him weird so he panicked and pepper sprayed it.  He said it worked though and the snake ran away.  Glad the tax payers dollars are being well spent on snakes!  Although in all honesty I would have shot the thing or even tazed it.  That would have been awesome.  I hate snakes and so does he but now we know what to do!

In a lighter note, my daughter told me the other day that if she had a change-o-machine she would use it to take away my belly fat.  I thought I was doing pretty good considering I have an 8 month old but according to my daughter I have belly fat.  I guess it is good though that she would help me out!


Dana

I Can Still Smell It

Dana's last post had me thinking a lot about...well...barf.

As far back as I can remember I've had a paralyzing fear of vomit. It's not an "EW! GROSS! BARF! ICKY!" feeling...It is more of a legit "PANIC! CURL-UP-IN-A-CORNER-COVERING-MY-NOSE-EARS-EYES-AND-MOUTH (so I don't taste the fumes, duh)" phobia status. 

For a long time I tried my hardest to avoid fairs and amusement parks and large groups of children because I was in a constant state of anxiety, looking for puke at every corner. I was SURE I would stumble across someone with their head in one of those giant garbage bins or that if I saw a child jumping around, it would spew or even worse, that someone would blow chunks while upside down on a roller coaster and gravity would force the barf down to land on me.

When I was little, I couldn't even read books where there was a puke scene without my mouth drying up and getting the cold sweats and feeling betrayed by the author. To this day when a character spews in a movie, I impulsively yell at the television which makes everyone else in the room jump and look at me funny.

Phobias, by definition, are EXTREME and IRRATIONAL fears. 

Check and check.

Most people don't really take me seriously when I disclose this...fun fact...about myself. I don't even think my husband really understood the severity of this issue until we were in Target about a month ago. 

It started out as such a nice Target run. Usually when we go together, he wants get what we need and get outta there as quickly as possible...while I prefer to take my time going through every aisle, admiring and window shopping. On this particular day, he allowed me to peruse every aisle...it was wonderful. 

Until we turned into the mirror aisle. 

I noticed two Target employees with rubber gloves on, cleaning up what I assumed was a broken mirror. I start to steer our cart into the aisle when one of the employees points at the ground and says, "Um...that's uhh...throw up." I look down and see that I've rolled my cart over a large pink splat on the floor covered in powder and LOSE. MY. SHIT. 

Joe moseys away LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED while I spend the rest of the shopping trip shaking and rambling all, "Oh my god I can still smell it" "Oh my god did I step in it?" "Oh my god do you smell that?" "Oh my god the cart wheel is making a barf trail" "Oh my god the smell is in my hair" "Oh my god I have to get rid of these shoes" "Oh my god the pink splat is en-grained in my line of vision" "Oh my god I can taste it" "OH MY GOD I STILL SMELL IT!!"

I talked about it the whole car ride home.

Even after we got back and showered, I could STILL smell it.

I dreamt about vomit that night.

I think that's when he realized this shit is REAL.

Or maybe it was when we moved into our new house and I requested that he never vomit in our en-suite bathroom. Every time he says his stomach hurts, I make sure he knows that I expect him to leave our bedroom and vom in the guest bathroom if he feels the urge....and definitely not to get his hopes up that I might rub his back or hold his hair back. 

Sometimes I worry that he thinks I'm kidding...

I'm definitely not.

PS: I googled "vomit phobia" and IT IS REAL. I AM NOT ALONE. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emetophobia

Random....

I need to start off by asking if anyone has seen the new BMW commercial?  It is freaking hilarious.  Let me break it down.  The husband pulls into the drive way of his home, obviously in the BMW and his email pops up on the radio screen and says..."Hi Honey, my mom stopped by see you when you get home."  The husband looks at his email then looks at the house then puts the car in reverse.  As he is backing out the email pops up again and says..."Hey honey, where the HONK are you going?"  And you actually hear the car honking during the little blurb that really is the F word.  I think that is great...anyone?  I love my in laws so I don't have that feeling but my husband and mother definitely have a love hate relationship and that is something he would do.  LOVE IT!

So a few weeks ago the stomach bug ran rapid through our house.  I hate stomach bugs.  I would rather have anything but a stomach bug.  The puking, diarrhea, nausea, give me anything but that.  Not to mention that they are extremely contagious and usually if one person in your household has it then the whole family is going to get it.  Stomach bug and kids...not a good combination.  My husband got the bug on Friday and my daughter got the bug on Monday.  She was a trooper...I will giver her that.  It was actually Memorial Day and we had some friends over for a BBQ.  My daughter was playing bubbles with her friend when she started vomiting.  Not just a little either, like a whole hot dog and then some.  I cleaned her up and got her to rest and gave her some water and she was like I am good.  So I figured it was just a fluke and she was ok.  Really I was having a good time with my friends and I really didn't want to deal with a sick kid so I sent her back out to play.  Yes, I know horrible mother, but you only get so much time to yourself...you want to enjoy it.  I don't think it was 20 minutes later and she was on the deck vomiting again.  She has the whole yard to throw up in and she comes on the deck where every one is and starts barfing.  Awesome.  At this point I figured she was really sick and needed to go to bed.  So I unfortunately asked our guest to leave so I can tend to my daughter.  What I didn't expect was a replica of the exorcist. 

What started out as just barfing and needing to rest turned into world war 3.  As she was barfing in her pan I gave her she pooped a little.  I figured she was barfing so hard that it just slipped and she would be ok.  I get her in the shower and cleaned up and of course after all that she needs to barf again.  So she is leaning over the toilet and barfing and while this is going on I notice that she has poop running down her leg.  I say "Lex do you know that your are pooping?"  And she says "No Mom I just farted"  And I'm like "No Lex you are pooping"  She had no idea.  This is how bad this stomach bug was.  She had no idea that crap was running down her leg.  She literally thought that she just farted and no big deal.  Oh no.  This was the messiest stomach bug I have ever witnessed in my life.  And it SMELLED!  The pooped smelled, the barf smelled, my daughter smelled....everything smelled.  At one point as I was cleaning my daughter, I actually stuck my head in her barf bowl because I thought I was going to lose it.  That is how bad it smelled and I don't have a weak stomach.  I can actually tolerate a lot!  My husband's under wear was in the garbage when he had it too so he also fell victim to the whole pooping the pants thing.  I did eventually get the bug but lucky for me I DID NOT poop my pants!

Humiliating....

So I had this bright idea to take the Police/Sheriff test a few months ago and all in all it was a sign that this was not for me.  The place where I worked closed and I was about 7 months prego when that happened so me getting a new job...not happening.  I was on unemployment or unenjoyment as my dad would call it and they are a stickler about job searches and all that so I thought it would be a good idea to take a civil service test because it was free for people on unemployment.  The test was in November and to be quite honest I really didn't think that was going to happen because it was very close to my due date and if my second child was like my first then I was going to be early.  Well the test date came and no baby.  I did study and took the practice test so I was ready to go.  This should have been my first clue.....
I walk into the auditorium where the test was given and one of the test proctors asked if I would like to sit in the handicap section.  Now, I am not a big girl but being pregnant I am all belly so I wasn't too offended by this but it was definitely not a good thing in the back of my mind.  As I looked around and noticed that if I chose not to sit in the handicap section I would be on top of two other people and would have to squeeze down a very small isle and the handicap section was looking pretty good.  They were pretty much double sized desks in the way back very far apart.  I chose the handicap section naturally.  The only down side, the proctors forgot I was back there because of course I was the only one in the handicap section at a police/sheriff test, so I would  have to raise my hand constantly because they would forget to give me the test sheets and booklets.

I thought I bombed the test.  I walked out of there not really feeling good at all about the test and pretty sure that I was not going to hear anything ever!  So I had my son and life moved on until May.   I got a letter in the mail saying that I scored high on the test so I was to report to the YMCA 3 weeks later and do the physical fitness test.  Not so good.  I had a 4 month old and I had 3 weeks to get my fat ass into shape.  This is what they require of a 27 year old female:  32 sit ups in a minute, 15 push ups with no break and run a mile and a half in 14 minutes 50 seconds.  This really doesn't sound so bad until you have had 2 children one of them who is only 4 months and you have pretty much accepted what your body was going to be from this moment on.  I am an athletic person I always have been so I wasn't going to not show up and I wasn't going to not at least try.  So, for 3 weeks I pushed myself and worked on running, sit ups, and push ups every day.  The push ups I had down.  I was always pretty good with upper body strength.  The run I had down to like the last second.  The sit ups on the other hand..not happening.  At my best I was doing like 25 sit ups in a minute.  I was kinda hoping that adrenaline would kick in and I would just bang out the rest and be down with it.

So, the test day came and I showed up to where I needed to be and walked into a group of about 6 girls.  Yes girls, not women.  They were discussing the college classes they were missing that day to take the test.  I think one of them had told me that she just turned 21 and the other one had just turned 22 like a week ago.  There was one other woman there who was older than me but she was in the State Trooper boot camp and she was just taking this test as a back up.  ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!!!  No one was married, no one had kids and this was just another day for them.  I instantly started to sweat.  Of course the first test was the sit ups.  Now once you fail a section you are done.  You are not allowed to continue with the rest of the test and if you want to try again you have to pay a fee and wait until the next test comes around.  So of course, the sit ups are the first obstacle.  I think 3 girls went ahead of me and they all pass.  Now it was my turn.  By the way you have some amped up chick who runs the boot camp sitting (yes I mean literally sitting) on your feet holding you down and she is all serious.  No joke cracking with her.  I thought she was going to suck my blood for a second.  Also, to make it a legit sit up your hands have to be inter locked behind your head, the back of your shoulder blades need to touch the mat, and your knees need to touch your elbows on your way up.  So I got all ready I was laying on the mat and the guy with the stop watch said GO....I was off, but not to the start I wanted.  I think I did like 10 good ones and it was all down hill from there.  I did NOT have the adrenaline I was hoping for nor the motivation.  I was actually trying not to laugh and this poor girl was actually saying..."YOU CAN DO IT...COME ON"  I started laughing at one point and I think I did a total of 20 when the guy said TIME.  I was the only one who failed the sit ups.  I wanted to scream..I JUST HAD A BABY...but I didn't.   I was actually very proud of myself.  I wished the rest of the girls luck and walked out of the room with my head held high.  Now once I got into the parking lot...all bets were off.  I had tears rolling down my face and I was still trying to tell myself that it wasn't a big deal and I just had a baby and this wasn't what I wanted right now in my life.  I got home and my mother in law was watching my kids and she was like....wow that was fast...I guess you didn't make it.  Nope..I failed miserably.  They couldn't start off with the push ups..which by the way the other girls didn't think they were going to pass those and I would have blown them away in that section, but NO lets do the sit ups and make the old lady embarrassed. 

Needless to say, I am glad I at least tried, but I am also very glad it is over with and I get to be home with my kids.  Lessoned learned.


Dana

Yoga: A Tale of Ass Juice, Peen Stains, and Gin Sweat

I love yoga...specifically hot yoga. It's one of the few physical activities I feel like I'm actually pretty good at. That being said, my history of practicing yoga has been a series of seriously unfortunate (and excruciatingly embarrassing) events....ESPECIALLY as of recently. These aren't your normal, to be expected yoga mishaps either. You know, like a camel toe from your yoga pants or a loud fart/queef that slips out when you're in the ol' happy baby pose...these are a totally different breed of inappropriate yoga mishaps.

The Happy Baby pose...I mean COME ON...

The first time I went to a heated yoga class was in college. One of the girls I worked with at the time mentioned a heated yoga class that she had heard about and was dying to try. She said the room was heated to 105 degrees and the heat was supposed to help you sweat out your toxins and loosen your muscles up...I figured the heat would also help distract me from all the "OHM" chanting (which I've always found totally awkward) so I agreed and we made a plan to go on a Sunday morning around 8:00, before our shifts at work.

Well...the heat DEFINITELY had me sweating out all my toxins because the night before I had gotten HAMMERED...on gin (possibly the worst smelling booze out there)..and I was sweating that shit out of every single one of my pores. Not only did I smell like a homeless man at an AA meeting, I was also severely dehydrated and on the verge of passing out after every downward dog.

Even though my first attempt at hot yoga was extremely unpleasant, I continued to go until Joe and I moved. Then I was on the hunt for a new yoga studio...but having heated classes was a requirement and those are pretty rare up here in the sticks...After months of searching, I finally found a studio in the college town nearby that offered the heated classes I had been missing.

I was so excited the day of my first class at the new studio...and really nervous about going to a place I had never been before. It was a full house. The place was packed.  I signed in, paid my drop-in fee, found an open spot, rolled out my mat and this is what I found:

I can't make this up

Is it just me? Or does that stain look like a brown penis wearing a Mickey Mouse hat?

How did I stain my yoga mat? Well I've always kept it in the car. Sometimes in the trunk, sometimes in the back, sometimes on the floor on the passenger's side. It's a pain in the ass to lug the damn thing inside the house after every class...so this way it's always ready to go. I'm also a bit of a car slob. I throw shit everywhere...coffee cups, water bottles, granola bar wrappers. I'm guessing the peen stain was the result of a Vanilla Chai or Mocha Latte spill.

BUT WAIT. There's more.

Last week I went to my usual Sunday morning class, rolled out my yoga mat and a pungent stench emerged from the mat, completely filling the room. The smell was familiar...but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I could feel the chick next to me staring and everyone else in the 105 degree room judging me as the smelly girl in class (which is saying a lot...because no one smells particularly GOOD in such a hot environment, sweating their balls off). I pushed through the smell, despite the fact that it was getting significantly worse as it BAKED in the heat and mixed with everyone's B.O. About halfway through the class it hit me...Rosie (our dainty American Bulldog) SQUIRT all over my mat...probably while it was in the back seat of my car.

For those of you who don't know what a "squirt" is...simply put...it's anal juice...that leaks out my dogs ASS HOLE.  It definitely has a one of a kind scent...a scent that has no place in a yoga studio. I know the smell well, as Rosie squirts every time she's scared...and she's a huge weeny. It would make sense that she would squirt in my vehicle because she's TERRIFIED of tractor trailers...every time one passes, squirts happen. My car quite often smells like her ass juice. I should have known better.

It may seem like I'm a glutton for punishment returning to yoga every week...but I love it and always think it can't get any worse! So I keep going...and glorious things like these continue to happen.

At least I'm not queefing.

Oh...and I'm in the market for a new yoga mat.

What to Expect After.......

Ok..so there is a great book out there to follow when you are expecting, but what about the aftermath?  I don't see too much out there giving us women a heads up on what happens after you are in labor for 38 hours and you pushed for an hour and a half.  Don't get me wrong..."What to Expect When Your Expecting" was great for me when I was pregnant with my first child.  I read the whole thing from front to back and lived by it.  I also used Google a lot, which probably was not a good thing because I am pretty sure I called my doctor about 5 times crying about having a miscarriage, which never happened.  I also loved the movie, and by the way, I was that blonde chick that tried really hard to get pregnant and then hated the whole experience.  I didn't have to try hard to get pregnant but I really hated being pregnant.  I hated the weight gain, the uncontrollable bodily functions, the fact that I couldn't see my vagina...the list goes on and on.  So, I am making a few heads up about the after math.  I really wanted to write a book about this, but lets face it...probably not going to happen.

1)  Exploding Hemorrhoids: I heard of hemorrhoids when you were pregnant and I really wasn't unfamiliar with them, I actually have had them several times without being pregnant but I didn't know that they could go as far as EXPLODING and leaving your pants full of blood.  This was actually before I had my second child, about the 8th month in and I had to go see a butt doctor.  I realized there was a problem when I started bleeding from my butt and had to stuff my butt hole with toilet paper so I didn't ruin my under wear.  I mean what do you use to plug a butt whole?  I have no idea.  I had a busy day that day of course and I was on my way grocery shopping when I picked up my brother to help so he could lift all the heavy stuff for me...he got in my car and complained about having a bad day...and I said.."Oh really, I have a wad of toilet paper stuck up my butt right now so I don't bleed all over the place and you think you have had a bad day?!!!" Well the good news was the butt doctor actually said my butt looked pretty good considering I was almost 9 months pregnant and the hemorrhoid exploding was a good thing.  Other wise they would have had to numb my butt whole and drain the hemorrhoid.  EEEWWWWWW!

2)  PUPPPS:  I know a lot of you don't know what that means and I really don't feel like spelling it out but you can GOOGLE it.  This is a very severe rash that only like 1 in 10 pregnant women get and it is most common in the last trimester and if you are having a boy.  I got this rash about the last month in and it was the worst thing I have ever experienced in my life!  There is no cure and there is NOTHING you can do or take to make it better.  It only goes away about 2 to 3 weeks after delivery.  This is probably the most uncomfortable and intolerable thing I have ever dealt with in my life.  It starts out in your stretch marks and spreads to your belly, arms, legs, and vagina!  It is small red dots that completely covers you and ITCHES like crazy!  I itched myself so bad that I actually bled and have scars from it.  It is terrible.  You think you have problems sleeping as it is being almost 9 months prego....well let me tell you....You have no idea unless you  have had this rash.  I hope that you never get it and I feel awful for the poor women that do.  Good luck with that!

3) Pain, Pain, and more Pain:  If you think that pushing out a kid is enough, well you haven't felt the after affects of the uterus shrinking and your butt hole screaming because you just pushed for over an hour.  Now, I only have had vaginal deliveries so I really don't know if this is true for C-Sections, but it hurts afterwards and it hurts pretty bad.  You see all these women on TV that look great after just giving birth and are smiling and blah blah blah, well let me tell you what...they are full of POOP.  You are having contractions after the birth too.  It sucks!  Not only have you just bled out your entire supply of blood but your uterus needs to go back to normal and your colon feels like you just got raped by a lot of very large black men.  And I mean that in a good way, well for them at least.  Now, after my first child I really didn't know what to expect and I figured I would have some pain killers and be on my merry way...OH NO!  Freaking Tylenol...Really?  That's all I get...I just pushed a 7lb baby out of my vagina and you are only giving me a freaking Tylenol!!!!  WTF!!  We have nurseries in the hospital for a reason.  Mom can't get doped up and sleep for a few hours before she brings home a screaming baby?  No, of course not!  Have fun with that!

4)  Keegals:  I don't care how many Keegals you do a day and how many times you do them.  When you have a child your bladder is SHOT!  Forget it...Trampoline's are a NO NO and sneezing and laughing on a full bladder is an invitation for trouble.  When I was at my brother's recently I was sitting on the couch and I had a few glasses of wine and hadn't gone to the bathroom recently.  I sneezed and not only did I pee my pants but it went through his couch.  Yes I just happened to be going commando that day, but still, I literally peed my pants and that wasn't the first time either.  My daughter asked me to jump on the trampoline with her the other day and I think I made it one jump and tinkle tinkle here we come!  Now, I have had two vaginal births and my recent one is only 4 months old but this is really pathetic.  I wasn't expecting to have to worry about buying Depends this soon in life.  I really have to watch what I am doing and where I am doing it.  And trust me...I did the Keegals on a regular basis...it really doesn't help!

5)  Appearance:  What ever you do, Don't look down there for at least a month.  Thanksgiving dinner has never been the same since.  I am pretty sure my vagina could gobble and I don't even want to tell you what my butt hole looked like.  Let's just say, if you like it in the butt...you are not going to want to do that for a while!!  As my Mom would say..."I have never seen hemorrhoids that big in my life"  She was there in the delivery room so she got full access.  Someone once told me that I wouldn't want to look at it for a while and of course I didn't listen and I regret it every day.  If your wondering why walking is a problem after you have giving birth..well it could be because you have golf ball size hemorrhoids or the fact that your vagina looks like a giant turkey.  Either way..not pretty!!


Happy Mother's Day!!!


Dana

HEY YOU GUYSSSSS

I have a nasty habit of catching falls with my face.

My face was first introduced to the floor when I was six. They've been besties ever since.

I was dicking around, swinging from the arm of our couch and rocking chair when I slipped and slammed my mouth into the floor. A couple buckets of blood later, my parents rushed me to the emergency room where the doctors slapped me into a straight jacket (apparently I was "too wiggly" while they were trying to get their hands all up in my grill. GO FIGURE) and informed us that the nerve in my front tooth had died, causing the tooth to turn a disturbing shade of gray. They assured us that this would be temporary and only affect my baby teeth. THEY WERE WRONG. Once those little suckers fell out, the adult teeth came in an equally disturbing yellowish color. VERY attractive.

The rocking chair crash was only the beginning of a long history of dental emergencies including (but not limited to), the time I was on a see-saw with my neighbor and the little bitch jumped off while I was on the upswing...causing me to crash to the ground and bash my poor, already damaged, gray front teeth into the handlebar. I've also fallen out of a school bus, tumbled down a couple hills, tripped running UP the DOWN escalator and slipped jumping rope...not once did it occur to me that I should probably extend my arms to soften the blow...instead of eating dirt. Literally.

I could have my own freaking montage on America's Funniest Home Videos.

As a result, I had some seriously jacked up teeth. I'm talking, pallet expander, six years of braces, multiple extractions, root canals, and a stray molar growing out of the roof of my mouth jacked up. If I hadn't followed the recommendations of my dentists, orthodontists and oral surgeons, I would probably look like Sloth from The Goonies right now:

"Heyyyy youuuuu guyyyyys"

(ALSO. I would have been the sexiest cave woman back in the day...when teeth of unusual colors, growing out of unexpected locations were all the rage. I was born in the wrong era.)

Anyway, when I was younger, trips to the dentist were easy. I was a total champ. During procedures that some would consider torture, I played it cool, not even breaking a sweat. Fast forward to 2013 and I'm singing a completely different tune. I had an appointment to have one of my wisdom teeth removed yesterday and by the way my anxiety was revved up (I almost "nervous crapped" my pants on the way there), you would think that I was signed up to have my arm amputated with a rusty saw.

I called my dentist to see what she could do for me to "take the edge off"  and she filled me in on a glorious solution to my problem. Nitrous Oxide. The way she described it sounded magical. "Inhale a couple deep breaths of the laughing gas and BAM...it's like you're drunk." I was sold. Drunk in the middle of the day? Just from breathing? Sign me up. The best part? It could be turned off once the procedure was finished. Being able to "turn off the drunk" would have come in handy on my twenty-first birthday while I was curled up in my bathtub with pillows and blankets crying because I "didn't want to be drunk anymore."

Armed with this knowledge, I waltzed in the dentist office ready to go! Wisdom tooth? Gimme the juice and get that bitch out of my face! Unfortunately, my hopes of being hammered in the middle of a workday were short lived. When I arrived, the dentist broke it to me that another patient would be utilizing the Nitrous Oxide since they worked on a "first come, first served" basis...I'd have to go through the procedure totally sober. Totally fucked up, right?

The procedure only took about fifteen minutes...but it was a LONG fifteen minutes of me deep throating my dentist's arm all the way up to her elbow while she reached in my mouth and assaulted my mandibular third molar. As if the mouth rape wasn't enough to throw my anxiety over the edge, throwing out words like "oozing" and "dry sockets" during the post-op discussion really did the trick. I was soaked in sweat and shaking like an abused chihuahua.

Once we left, I was THIS CLOSE to going over to the grocery store and buying 5 cans of whipped cream and getting some Nitrous Oxide on my own through a whippit binge...but decided to embrace the Vicodin prescription instead.

How we met.....

I am going to give you the story of how me and Lauren were introduced to each other.  I figured some people are probably questioning our relationship and wondering how the hell sister-in-laws get to be the way we are.

Now, most people that know me consider me to be a bitch.  Well as one of my friends would say, "I don't think you are a bitch, I just think you are really honest". (Thanks Jessica!)  I don't really like girls and most of my close friends were guys.  I can count on one hand how many close girl friends I have.  I just hate drama and I am a very honest person, which is not really accepted in the girl community.  So, I never had any lasting girl friendships.  This doesn't really bother me especially because I have two brothers and really had my hands full taking care of them.  Lauren's husband is the middle child and he was the nice guy.  And girls you know exactly what this means.  He always got burned and bitches walked all over him.  He was kinda chunky in high school but he had a great personality and could be a real charmer, but this is not what the girls wanted.  He was always "just the friend".  As you can imagine this really irritated me and any time Joey brought home a girl I was NEVER nice.  He always used to lecture me about being nice and how he really liked a girl and blah, blah, blah.  Well knowing my brother and how girls are, I really used to put his girlfriends through the ringer.  I was never nice and in fact I went out of my way to be mean.  No one was ever going to be good enough for him.  That was the bottom line.  Then came Lauren.  I was going to tell this story at their wedding when I made my toast, but of course the two of them decided to go off to the Dominican and have a destination wedding. Thanks.

I was visiting my brother for the weekend in MD when he was in the academy.  It was me, our Dad, and grandparents.  We just had a long day touring the academy and meeting a lot of people and watching a football game the academy put together for the families.  (It was family weekend for the police academy in MD.)  We were back at Joey's apartment and I just started bartending a few weeks ago and Joey bought some liquor for the weekend and he wanted me to make some drinks for us.  So a few hours have passed and the liquor is flowing pretty good and then Joey drops the bomb on me.  He informs me that the new girl is coming over in a few to meet us and I am to be nice!  I think he really had this planned the whole time.  Get his sister good and liquored up before the new girl comes over.  Great.  Joey's apartment was kinda small and I was sleeping on an air mattress in the living room for the weekend.  So, naturally that is what I am sitting on when Lauren comes over.  Do you know how hard it is to get off an air mattress when you are drunk?  Not to mention the farting noises it makes every time you move.  And to top it off when Lauren comes in she has her puppy with her that is licking me all over my face!  So, I am trying to get up to meet her and not look like such a retard but it is really not working out in my favor.  Again, I think Joey did this on purpose.  You can't really be intimidating when you're drunk, have a dog licking your face that probably just licked its butt, and you can't get off a freaking air mattress!  Mean while my Dad is in a comatose state in the recliner.  He wasn't feeling that great and popped some Nyquil on top of drinking for a few hours.  I am pretty sure he is seeing things that we are not and I probably should be worried, but he looks pretty happy, so I just let him be.  I finally manage to get up and ask Lauren if she would like a drink and of course she says yes.  So, me being me, I made a drink that I don't think even an alcoholic would touch.  I think I did a whole glass of Bacardi and a tiny splash of coke.  I guess at the time I thought this was funny and teach her a lesson, but the more I think about it, I don't really know what my plan was.  Get her drunk, poison her?  I have no idea.  And the poor girl actually drinks it and finishes it and does not complain once!  And thanks me on top of it!  Jeez...what an ass.  Lauren had me right then and there.  She was the nicest girl I have ever met and she was just so innocent and sweet.  I tried so hard to be mean but it just wasn't working out.  After a while I just felt like a bully.  She laughed at all my jokes and listened to all my drunken stories and just took everything in like a champ.  I could actually have a real conversation with her and enjoy it.  So, needless to say it has worked out and I love her like a sister and I am glad they found each other. 

Now, it is on to the next brother!

Is This Normal?

So, I normally don't like when parents constantly talk about their children and brag and all that crap, but I am dedicating this post to my daughter because sometimes I just don't know where she came from.  She really says and does the craziest things that I really question a lot of things that I may or may not have done during my pregnancy to create such a child.  She is 5 and will be starting Kindergarten full time this coming September.

We are sitting at the gas station one day while my husband was inside getting some stuff.  She is in the back seat and she is playing house like she usually does and talking to her pretend children.  She has two and they are Matthew and Sammy, which they are actual children in real life.  We have a couple that is good friends of ours and our children are close in age and naturally their children are Matthew and Samantha. The conversation goes like this:

 Lex:  Stop it you little BLASTARDS.  (Talking to her pretend children)  You guys are being little BLASTARDS.

Me:  Lex, what does BLASTARDS mean?

Lex:  You know Mom, it is the name that parents sometimes call their children,.

Me:  (Now it dawns on me)  You mean BASTARDS?

Lex:  Yeah Mom, that's the word...BASTARDS.

Me: (Silently laughing)  Ummm...I really don't think you should be using that word.  It is bad, please don't say it, especially at school.

Lex:  Ugghhh...ok Mom

And just to get one last one in, thinking I can't hear her, she says "Be quiet you little BASTARDS!"  At least she used the right word this time.


 She got into a fight with her toy box the other day and lost but it was pretty entertaining.  I was trying to read my 50 Shades of Grey trilogy, which I LOVE by the way, and I hear a big crash and some stuff hit the floor.  I was just getting into a naughty part of the book too and trying to focus when this interrupted my thoughts.  I look up from the book and the toy box some how got flipped over while she was in it and the toy box ended up on top of her with all the contents dumped out and on top of her.  I was waiting for the "Mom!" or the tears but much to my surprise I didn't hear either.  Instead I hear, "What the hell just happened?  How did I end up with the toy box on top of me?  Mom is going to be so mad!"  Now, I really should have yelled at her for the swearing and for all the noise because of course, I just got her baby brother to sleep in the swing, but I just can't bring myself to say anything.  I am too busy trying to hide my laughter with the book I was so into at the time.  And by laughter I mean tears rolling down my face because I am laughing so hard but I am trying very hard to not let her hear me.  She some how managed to get herself out and pick up all the toys.  Mean while, my sex scene was ruined in my book.

The other day we were walking around Lowe's.  Lowe's is like a shopping mall to my husband.  He could go there for hours and just walk around looking at crap.  I am lucky if he actually purchases something.  Well, like usual we are wandering around and I have my baby in my arms talking to him and Lex is dressed to impress.  By this I mean stretch pants, a short sleeve shirt that really doesn't fit her and high heeled princess shoes that I bought at the Disney store.  I used to care what she looked like in public and I attempted to try and get her to wear normal outfits, but it is just too much of a fight and I just don't care anymore.  I started taking pictures so I can blackmail her when she is a teenager and not cooperating with me.  I am trying to pay attention to something my husband is talking to me about when I see something not quite right out of the corner of my eye.  Lex is humping a pole in the middle of Lowe's.  And I am not just talking about a little rub here and there, I am talking full blown wrapping her legs around it and moving up and down and I am pretty sure there was a little tongue action.  Now, I know that kids are kids and they do stuff.  I mean when I played with Barbie's when I was younger I had them doing the hanky panky and making babies and all that, but I don't think I ever went public with my tendencies.  And of course we are not alone in the isle.  So, I casually walk over to Lex and say, "Please stop humping the pole.  We are in public and I really don't want anyone to see you doing that."  She stops and says something I can't really hear to the pole and walks away.  The crazy part, I am not really phased by this and I pretty much just say, don't hump poles in public,

Is that Normal?


She is constantly surprising me by the stuff she does and I really should write a book about it but I am sure every parent says that about their child.