Frequent Emergency Card

I swear we should move closer to a hospital for Moggie. On a quiet Saturday afternoon, she has decided to liven things up a bit by swallowing a quarter. She was standing there smiling about it and poor Tootie was grabbing her chest and having an anxiety attack over the whole deal. This leaves me here sitting on the computer after Googling "swallowed a coin".

Dr. Google has recommended the wait-and-see approach since she is showing no signs of choking or pain. I'm going to get a second opinion from the on call nurse at our pediatrician's office.

Strange, Strange Birds

Here's a list of recent keyword activity for Mama Fidel. I attract some oddballs for sure. Just to make it fun, I'll turn this into a Q&A.


1. What is the benefit of eating marigolds? If you are a slug, eating my marigolds will get you a slug poison buffet and/or impaled on a sharp stick.

2. Chihuahua dog sandwich If you are making your chihuahua a sandwich, I recommend chicken or turkey. If you are making a sandwich out of your chihuahua, this is not the blog for you.


3. Grandmother's cock I think your grandmother or you have really serious issues. Being that you are from Argentina, I'm telling myself that it's just a language issue because the thought of a sweet grandmother having a cock is just wrong. Unless you are meaning "rooster" and not "penis". Even then, you better watch her because that fucker will end up in a pot on the stove if he looks too tasty. I have seen it happen.

4. Spank mama's ass You had better be careful about trying to bow up on your Mama because you will likely end up getting your ass whipped, or at least make the front page of your local newspaper and look like a total idiot. You will probably have the whack-ass talk shows trying to lure you onstage to humiliate you even more than you have already humiliated yourself.

5. Caillou is a little bitch I agree, but I can't understand why on Earth you (the collective you, I get this search a LOT) would feel the need to Google this phrase. Do you know an actual bitch named Calliou or are you referring to the little bald brat on PBS?

Take That, Biotch

Trying to beat Fidel's high scores on our Wii Fit is going to have me ready for a bikini in no time. I worked out for 55 minutes straight today and wasn't ready to quit. My laundry room was ready for me to quit so I decided to heed the call and get some garments a-spinning. My children are getting pretty easy to handle so I figure I can earn my housewife keep by keeping a clean home and working out regularly. I may even throw daily showers into my job description. None of us wants me to end up back among the working, now do we?

Etiquette Dilemma

Last night, right as my ass hit the chair at the dinner table to enjoy my garlic shrimp and spinach salad, the doorbell rang. And there were two adorable old church people handing me a book and a box of cookies. Before my slow brain could politely decline and tell them we were sitting down for dinner, something caught my attention and stopped me from sending them on their way. They were from the church that runs Moggie's preschool. I stood on the porch and talked to them for a little while. The gentleman asked me if I had made my reservation for Heaven and I said "Um, well I'm not planning on traveling for a while" but that wasn't a great answer. It took me a little while to assure him that I had been raised a good Baptist and all of that jazz. We had a word of prayer on the front porch, said goodbye (after I promised them I would come to church next Sunday) and I came inside to eat my dinner. Then I realized that I had probably been extremely rude to entertain those folks while standing on my front porch and I should have invited them in.

I'll Miss You, Kid

I have a feeling that poor Moggie will be sent off to Baby Boarding School or perhaps sold to a sweatshop somewhere this evening. She is a major destructo and has cost us much money and many man hours of manual labor, undoing all of her little projects of destruction. This time, she has decorated Fidel's immaculate Lexus with sidewalk chalk and scratched it up. He told me to take a photo to remember her by because he's getting rid of her this evening. I am actually curious to see how much she turns on the charm. Her beautiful porcelain skin actually glows when she's putting on her sweet angel act.

Happy Birthday, Dummy!

My wiener dog, Charlie, is a year old today. She has celebrated by taking an extra nap and gobbling up some treats. I'm taking the girls out this afternoon to get her a few little presents and we can all make over her tonight after dinner. Some neighborhood dog left her a pile of turds in our front yard and she's sniffed them quite a bit so I guess she likes them. I, however, am not so fond of piles of strange dog turds in my grass. Now that I've conquered my slug problem I may have to stalk the dog walkers to find out who cannot pick up their dog's shit. If I catch the lazy bastard I'll post a picture for the world to see.

Jive Talkin' Turkey

We got our Wii Fit hooked up, finally, and it's pretty fun. I even enjoy the running and I hate to run.

You go through this little diagnostic part to test your balance and calculate your BMI. After I did the balance test the screen was telling me that I was in great shape. When it got to the weight part it told me that I was a fat ass and oinked at me. Then it made my Mii round and plump. Fucker.

There Goes That Idea

Apparently listing your children on Ebay is a no-no. Well shit. I've held onto that dream for 4 years now. I can still dump them off on unsuspecting grandparents, right?

Slug Killer

I spent the afternoon Googling aphids, bugs eating marigolds, bugs eating verbenas before the ADD/CRS kicked in and I forgot about my gardening problems. I took a nap and woke up after our little afternoon thunderstorm was over to take the dogs out to pee. I sat on the front steps to wait on the canine urination fest to end and noticed fucking slugs eating up my plants in the urns flanking the front steps. The little bastards have eaten my marigolds down to the stalks and have feasted on every verbena bloom that's thought about opening. I ran inside to grab the salt but Fidel told me not to because he didn't want the gooey mess on the front sidewalk. I'm glad he's so tidy because after I googled salting slugs I discovered that the salt can ruin your soil. I'm putting a deep bowl with some milk in it out there tonight to try and drown them. Some people say to use beer but I don't feel like drinking tonight (yes, I am actually sick) and I'm not wasting an entire beer on the vermin who have ruined my flowers.

Tomorrow I'll go and get some Sluggo to kill the slugs. And I'll whittle down a chopstick to a sharp point to impale the survivors of the carnage.

90 Minutes

Today is the first day of summer break for Tootie. We had a wonderful morning, getting out of bed at 9 am. Then it was straight downhill from there. She has bossed Moggie around beginning with telling her exactly how to eat her breakfast, how to sit and when to swallow. She's appointed herself Queen of the World and has ended up in her room for some quiet time here at 10:30. I can't wait for August.

Chilling Like Ray

I'm rocking sunglasses indoors today like I'm Ray Charles or something. What I am is a woman suffering from the Headache from Hell. My previous experiences with migraines have all been the have-a-headache-and-hate-my-job type deals and oddly enough I haven't had one of those since I stopped working. I'm having some bad light sensitivity and nausea but I also have the crud in my lungs and I swear my mucus stinks so I'm leaning toward sinus issues. I only have one more dose left of the wonderful decongesting, mind-numbing cough syrup so I just called my doctor and the bitch is out of town until next week. I have a rapport with her so I know I can walk in there and say "Hey, I need some of my special syrup because I'm coughing and tired of pissing myself" and she will whip out her pad and hook me up. That stuff is wonderful and I'm paranoid that if I walk in there and see the new doctor that he will just think I'm a druggie and tell me to take Sudafed or something equally as worthless. If I'm going to take chemicals I may as well take what's proven to work instead of dicking around with the OTC crap. My Orange Elixir of Bliss may be a narcotic but it does a damned fine job of clearing up the gunk in my lungs plus it has the added benefit of making me all smiley.

In the meantime, I'll just suck it up and hold this couch down and let the dirty dishes pile up all around. Fidel is cooking dinner tonight and there's nothing to do tonight to prep for tomorrow since today was the last day of school for Tootie.

The Asking Hour

When you have children, there are certain hours of the day that you can just predict. For me, 7:20 - 7:50 (school days) is the bitching/crying/sassing hour. (I am completely aware that it's only 30 minutes. It feels like 3 hours so I'm calling it an hour) 5:00 - 6:00 is the asking hour. I am at the children's beck and call all day. I neglect tidying up until 5 pm because no matter how much I clean, it will be undone by the time Fidel gets home and it will look as if I've done nothing anyway. At 5:00, I start picking up the living areas, working on dishes and prepping dinner. It's during this time that my children decide to ask for everything and anything under the sun. Popsicles, popcorn, raisins, watercolors, playdough, moonsand, knives to throw, etc. I have finally lost it today after the baby powder incident and I've forbidden to ask me for anything unless they are bleeding uncontrollably or have managed to light themselves afire.

The Price of Hygiene

This afternoon, I decided to multitask and clean my shower while I cleaned myself. I sprayed the tile and floor down with cleaner, scrubbed until it was clean and then took a shower. About halfway through Moggie came in wanting to shower with me so I turned on the second shower head and let her hop in with me. When I got out, she stayed in and I went into my bedroom to get some underwear and looked toward the door to the hall and saw this:



Really. I just don't even know how to begin handling this kind of shit. Obviously my vacuum will be involved in the housekeeping portion of this problem, but what in the hell makes a child who can read, write and do addition and subtraction at four years old make such a stupid decision about what to do in her downtime? The girls have a lovely playroom with any sort of toy you can imagine. Books out the ass. Art supplies to rival most craft store inventories. And yet, this allegedly bright child of mine chooses to take a box of fucking baby powder to dust all over the hardwood upstairs hallway, which in turn scattered down the wooden stairs and all over the wooden foyer.

Have you ever dreamed of having a lovely blue-eyed, blonde haired child of your own? I can have her ready to go by 7:00 tonight. No need to call, I'll have her sitting on the curb. First come, first served and NO RETURNS.

Sexytime Splash

This post will be about sex so just close out now if that offends you.

Last night, Fidel and I decided to have sexytime but it was so late and we just wanted a quickie so we dispensed with the foreplay and decided to just get down to the business at hand. I sat up in bed to roll over toward him, and I completely lost my balance and fell hard on him. He said, "What the fuck was that about??", and I got the giggles and told him that was my new move, the Sexytime Splash. We were laughing so hard I didn't know if we would be able to do actual sexytime.

Don't Know How to Break This to Him

I took the girls out to Kohls this afternoon to get Tootie a new pair of shoes. If I ever mention going to Kohls again for shoes please kick me. I should know by now that they do not carry any shoe in my children's sizes that are presentable in public.

Anyway, Tootie spotted the rack of training bras in the girls section and starting telling me that she needs one. She's six, rail thin and nowhere near ready for a training bra. I'm sure her father isn't ready for her to be in a training bra, either. One day we had a baby, the next she's growing two rows of teeth and asking for a bra.

Freakshow

Tootie is six. Her two bottom teeth have been loose so while I was in her mouth checking her throat (possible sickness b/c she's complaining of a sore throat and her breath is funky) I wiggled her teeth to see how loose they are at this moment and I jumped because there was a big damned tooth poking up behind her baby teeth. Not a little white line, a big damn tooth. I immediately started panicking because it just looked crazy. I'm used to seeing the gap-toothed smile when kids lose baby teeth but this kid has a big ass tooth sitting there right behind her baby tooth.

Of course I googled this weird tooth shit and discovered that it's fine. It's called "Shark Teeth" and apparently the adult teeth will push the baby teeth out within weeks. If they aren't out within 3 months you have to go see the dentist. Leave it to my kid to have some crazy shit going on.

Rough Bunch

I got to sit in on Moggie's ballet/tap class today since it's parent observation day. I've always been afraid to make eye contact with the dance teacher since Moggie is quite a handful, but after what I saw today it's a wonder that Moggie doesn't have angel wings and a halo because that class of 4-year old girls has to be made of the sassiest and rottenest kids in our county. One kid kept leaving the room to go roam the halls, another constantly interrupted and talked over the teacher, one was melting down in the middle of the floor. Moggie did cuss out a girl who sat on her hurt finger by accident and cried a little bit when she fell on her ass on the hard floor but other than that she did a good job. Well she did give a classmate a good Look, Bitch when the girl took the little prop Moggie was holding but if you mess with the bull you get the horns, you know?

Public Library for Dummies

Now that summer is upon us, I need to figure out how you use the public library because my Tootie loves borrowing books from her school library. I have a card but I honestly don't know how you go about renting the books. I did attempt to do this once and I didn't see anyone who appeared to be a librarian and I tried to use this little kiosk thing but I couldn't figure it out and I ran out of the building in shame and empty handed. The kids were crying so I had to take them to Target and buy them some damned books. That was two years ago and I haven't been back since. Hopefully they have forgotten me and my abandoned stack of books, and hired a human being to help dummies like me borrow books.

Happy Mother's Day!

My evil uterus has chosen to reenact the crowning moment of motherhood by making me feel like I'm giving birth all over again today. I'm as bloated as a week-old whale carcass and am having cramps comparable to labor pains.

In other news, Fidel and the girls bought me my pretty giraffe purse! I have to exchange it since it's too big and roomy but still, it sure does look pretty sitting there. He got me the large hobo version and while more organized women may fawn over the roominess, all I can see is the mess my junky ass will accumulate inside there.

Enjoy your day, mothers!

No Thank You

I thought English was a widely recognized language in the Bahamas, but to Ashley's chagrin "No, it will make me hurl" fell upon deaf ears. The waiter should have been able to tell by her body language that she wasn't wanting that liquor poured down her throat. I mean, c'mon, look at her.

Removing Blood from a Lilly

Last night, I was making dinner and Tootie crashed through Fidel's garage door screaming about her bike being in the creek. I wasn't alarmed until I noticed that she was spotted with blood, then my poor Moggie crashed through the same garage door looking like she had been on the bad end of a switchblade knife. I ran outside to get Fidel because I knew that I wouldn't be able to handle the sight of a wound that was producing that much blood. I must add that I applied pressure on her wound with a wet washcloth. I didn't leave her hemorrhaging or anything. During all of this excitement, Tootie kept sobbing and screaming about her bike being in the creek. After trying to collect myself to take care of the injured child and ignoring the constant and increasingly louder demands for bike retrieval, I lost it and screamed, "Shut up about the fucking bike already". I have to get a special Mother-of-the-Year plaque for that one, right?

After being rejected from our usual ER because of the ugliness of the wound, we made it down to the county ER (yay) where we waited with the masses. Four hours, and lots of baby happy drugs later, we left for home with five new stitches under the nail bed of her left middle finger and the old nail sewn back on top of that. She's got a big old ET-finger bandage on her that I have to keep dry for the next five days.

You know when your kid is covered in their own blood, you tend to scoop them up and head out to the ER without bothering to change clothes or anything. Moggie was dressed in a Lilly Pulitzer dress because we had done a Mother's Day tea party at her school earlier. That nice little Lilly is now covered in big drips and smears of blood but the poor child kept getting compliments on her pretty dress. Let's hope the gods of enzyme action can remove that blood.

Snoring Isn't Helping My Marriage

My cruise was this past weekend so I'm still exhausted from not getting much sleep. I crashed on the couch last night before 9:30, I think. I was snoring like crazy so I just slept in the upstairs guest room so that poor Fidel could get some rest. I have to say that I am not ready for this whole separate bedroom thing. I think we both sleep better because for me, I can sleep without worrying about not sleeping on my back or facing him, and he isn't subjected to my various snorts, grunts and puffing. Better sleep be damned, it just feels odd to not sleep with my husband when he's in the same house.

I need to get one of those anti-snore pillows from Brookstone and some earplugs for Fidel before we end up scheduling time for conjugal visits and making things all awkward.

Slacker. Where Are You?

I just got home from a weekend girls cruise last night and I have some really funny stories to tell you guys over the next few days. I have to pull pictures together and do some laundry but I swear that I have laughed since Thursday. No one got in any trouble but I have been invited to join the Pink Hat society by some elderly Red-hatters that I met on the cruise. I think they extended the invitation to me because I saved them from certain death on a wave runner.

I have some funny shit written on the back of a car rental receipt. I was in Senor Frog's on Saturday laughing so hard I nearly peed myself so I started jotting stuff down so that I wouldn't forget.