Thank You for Not Writing Toilet

I have been painting the girls' bathroom this week. This afternoon, I was working on cutting in the area where the walls meet the ceiling. The girls bathroom is on the second floor, the ladder is in the basement. See where this is going? Mrs. Brilliance decided to put a short step stool on top of the toilet to paint. The stool shot out from under my feet like a greased pig and I went down hard on my right shoulder on top of the toilet tank. I washed as much paint off of me as I could, called Fidel to come home, dropped Moggie with our good neighbor next door and asked her to get Tootie from the bus until Fidel got home.

Turns out, my arm isn't broken but it is sprained. I have a bottle of pain meds awaiting me at the pharmacy and an ugly ass blue sling around my neck.

Wahhh.

I'd Just Take Their Word

A week and a half ago, my gallbladder/rib/what-the-fuck-ever pain went from moderately annoying to a give-me-a-knife-I'll-cut-this-shit-out-myself sort of pain. I walked around all bent over, huffing and puffing for a few hours and then I was fine. I didn't even have my usual evening pains for over a week.

I have my upper quadrant ultrasound scheduled for tomorrow morning. I was hoping it was all for nothing but now that the pain has kicked in again I'm not so sure. What I am sure of, however, is that I do not care to have surgery. I have never had surgery (other than minor mole removal crap) and it's not that I'm scared of the actual surgery, but I do not want to go through the whole recovery process. I have a crazy 4-year old child who needs a serious amount of supervision (see yesterday's post about her being buck naked in the front yard in broad daylight) and I don't know if I can provide adequate supervision if I'm dancing with Mr. Percoset. (I hope I spelled your boyfriend's name right, Kelly)

Anyway, in my effort to avoid surgery, I consulted Dr. Google on "treating gallbladder pain". I've never heard of anyone dying from a gallbladder problem so I figured if I can treat the pain I can live without having to face the knife. You know the natural people or the Chinese will have a cure for everything and sure enough, I found the cure. The cure involves taking herbs, mass amounts of salt water, and olive oil and lemon juice cocktails. Testimonials from people who have done this miracle cure detail the amount of stones they passed, what they looked like, etc. I had to dig more because I have a pretty good knowledge of basic anatomy and I don't remember the gallbladder being anywhere in the urinary tract. Also never heard of anyone hacking up gallstones so that left only one option. Poop. These people have dug through their own turds to find these "stones".

Needless to say, anything that involves me digging through turds is out. Get out your dancing shoes, Mr. Percoset.

Hells Bells

I woke up 10 minutes before bus time, got cussed out for painting the girls' bathroom (to be fair, maybe "You never fucking listen to me" is some man-code for 'Thanks for doing that!'") and then flipped on the tv to watch the Today show anchors jack off to the DNC happenings. I took as much of that as I could, then just turned it on CMT to veg out a little. Perhaps I'm PMSing a little too much, but I have spent more time than I care to crying over friggin' country music videos.

First off, there was the Carrie Underwood "Just a Dream" video. I loved Carrie on AI but the stuff she's done since then has sounded really screamy to me. I do like "Just a Dream" so I didn't change the station when that video came on but I wish that I had. It is a beautiful video but it is definitely a real tear jerker. Miss Carrie might want to try acting because she did a fantastic job acting in the video.

Next, Brad Paisley came on with "Waiting for a Woman". I think Brad Paisley is a genius. He seems like he's really in touch with his emotions and his wife and kid are probably pretty lucky, unless he enjoys making them teary like he made me this morning. Who needs to see Andy Griffith waiting on a bench in Heaven in a white suit? Nobody wants to think about Andy Griffith being dead, although it's just a matter of time.

I think I'm going to go kick some puppies to cheer myself up.

Can They Do That?

If people were issued licenses for parenting (as they should be), the status of mine would be in some serious jeopardy tonight.

We have been getting some lovely rain from Fay and Moggie loves to splash in puddles, so I let her be a kid and go out in the rain. She came inside completely soaked, so I took her clothes off and threw them on the back porch so she wouldn't continue to drip on the hardwoods. Those suckers will mildew before I remember they are out there, but getting back to my story, my child was unclothed. I sent her upstairs to get some dry clothing and started making dinner. I noticed it got pretty quiet so I started calling to her, with no answer. I walked over to the stairs and saw her out of the dining room windows. Stark naked, frolicking on the sidewalk without a care in the world. She was holding a ladybug umbrella, twirling and leaping in the rain. Completely naked.

I actually ran to get a camera on my way to get her in the house, but then I remembered it's not a good idea to post naked pictures of your kids (or any kids) on the internet. Just take my word for it, it was freaking hilarious.

Busted

I just got busted by the neighbors for holding an umbrella over a wiener dog so that she could pee. The poor dog just despises rain and it's not letting up any time soon. Fidel made her go out in it this morning and she just sat out there and cried like she was being whipped. He just doesn't know how to deal with a little wiener dog princess.

Not Dead Yet

I called my dad this morning at my Grandparents' house where he's been taking care of them during the day since last Thanksgiving when my Grandpa had his stroke. After a while he put my Grandfather on the phone and he was like, "Now who is this?" and I said, "Papa, this is Jennifer, your granddaughter!" and he was like, "Oh. I thought you were dead". I shouldn't have but I got tickled and just couldn't stop laughing. I told him I knew it had been too long since I've visited but I'm very much alive!

Screwing it Up for Everybody

This morning was our first time at our new bus stop, two houses away. Of course the transportation department set the bus stop in front of an unmarried and childless guy's house. His name is Matt and he's a nice guy. He has a big black Labrador on an invisible fence in the front yard. This dog is huge and sweet as anything.

First of all, I'm pretty sure that you aren't supposed to flail about like a fucking moron at the bus stop for safety reasons. Secondly, it's just not good manners to send a gaggle of first graders unsupervised to the bus stop and allow them to strip leaves from trees, turn the driveway into their personal playground and kick at the homeowner's dog. Good Neighbor's (GN) kid and Tootie were supervised by GN and me, but Neighbor Kid was on his own. Flailing about like an idiot into the street, driveway, grass, kicking at the dog, pulling on tree limbs and being his typical little asshole self.

If our bus stop gets taken away from the neighbor complaining (rightfully so) about that kid acting like a spazzy asshole, I swear I'm kicking the mom's fucking ass.

Keep Them Straight

I've taken to telling big fat lies when people try to corner me into babysitting or encroach on my personal (nap) time. I'm not really good at fibbing and I don't do it often because I have a horrible memory. I just spent 5 minutes trying to figure out who I need to avoid this weekend because I remembered telling someone that I was going out of town and I really have no plans to leave my house.

Now that the neighbor drama is starting up again, leaving the city for the weekend sounds like a pretty good idea.

Never When I'm Clean

How is it that nothing ever happens when I'm freshly showered and presentable?

This morning, I got an urgent call from Dysfunction Junction and all she said was "Please meet me in my garage immediately" in a stressed tone. I threw on some flip flops, begged Moggie to stay inside and ran over there. I wasn't sure if I was going to find a bloody carcass of a husband or an animal, but it didn't sound good. As I climbed their driveway (yes, it's that steep) I saw the husband walking around with an earpiece and a cellphone in his hand. My sense of reason was screaming "Turn your ass around and run home" but he had already seen me so I kept going. She was in the garage, removing his bags and computer from his car to keep him from leaving. She was sobbing and saying that he was drunk and wanted me to call the Po Po the second he drove off to report him for drunk driving. I went to talk to him at that point and he was no drunker than I was at that time. Unfortunately I do feel like I have to say that I hadn't had a drop because I know you all think the worst of me.

Anyway, he was sober, she was frantic and he said he wanted to leave to deescalate the situation. I laughed inside at that phrase because it sounded like something he learned in his mandatory anger management sessions.

He left, she walked over here with a pot of coffee and cried at my breakfast bar while I washed dishes. I told her it was time to cut her losses and get out of the marriage. She is not American and says she can't find work. I'm sorry but there are plenty of non-Americans working everywhere you look. There are jobs out there, you just have to swallow your pride and do what you need to do to get on your feet. You can't check out of Kohls or Kroger without being asked if you want a job. I understand that Kohls or Kroger won't be able to pay the salary to which she is accustomed, but there comes a time when you just have to buck up and take what you can get.

I relayed all of this crap to Fidel and he said, "Sometimes you are just too good of a person", which was pretty funny because I don't feel like a good person for encouraging divorce and forcing people to get jobs. Sometimes life isn't pretty.

You're Doing it Wrong

It doesn't end up like this on Swingtown.

Victory is Mine

I have done my one supermom task for the year, so I can now retire to domestic averageness.

I managed to get a new bus stop 1/4 mile closer to our house! Our old bus stop was up a hill and around a curve, so I had to walk all the way down to the bus stop to fetch Tootie in the afternoon. Obviously a good walk never hurt anyone but I have a whiny ass 4-year old who threatened my sanity every afternoon.

We live at the end of the main drag of our neighborhood, in a nice big cul-de-sac. The bus was turning down a side street with 2 houses with no school aged kids to turn around, so I lobbied the transportation department to reconsider their route and I was successful. My next step was blockading the side street that the bus was using to turn around until they saw reason so it's in everyone's best interests that we were able to settle this matter peacefully.

I so need a life.

Don't Be an Asshole

Somehow, I don't think good mothers tell their kids to not be an asshole, but really more moms should use that phrase. I will be the first to tell you that my kids are indeed assholes quite a bit of the time. Especially the younger one. She's loud, obnoxious and all about being the center of attention. She doesn't respond to "Sweetie, please use your inside voice" unless I pop her in the head after saying it for the fifth time at the top of my lungs, which results in ME being the asshole in the eyes of the waiting room at the doctors office. Actually, there are a bunch of old timers in my doctor's waiting room and I'm sure they were happy to see her loud, nonlistening ass get smacked and were likely eager to do the smacking themselves. Old Southern people are good for smacking and then handing out peppermints.

I seriously pray for strength to get me through the next two weeks before that child starts preschool.

Clorox Gargle and a Tetanus Shot

Fidel and I took the girls to a local park today since the temps have fallen below the 90-degree mark. Moggie and Tootie had a great time, and when it was time to leave we took the path to the parking lot that leads by a drinking fountain because they like drinking fountains and it was kind of hot. They started drinking and I got distracted by looking at a dog and I heard Fidel gasp, and I turned around to see Moggie and Tootie lapping water out of the clogged bowl of the water fountain like dogs. They had their tongues, lapping up dirty water that had dribbled off of the nasty lips of the general public. All I could do is stand there and say, "Jesus Christ".

Anger Management

I am not one to run to the doctor for every little sniffle, but take a look at this list. It's enough to drive anyone crazy and I pity poor Fidel for having to live with me at the moment.

1. I snore like a chainsaw.
2. My gallbladder hurts and I can't bear to lay on my stomach at night.
3. I have horrible sinus drainage at the moment, causing me to cough and pee myself.
4. #2 and #1 don't go together very well because my husband wakes me up CONSTANTLY (and that is yelling) he seriously wakes me up FUCKING CONSTANTLY no lie I'm so tired from being WOKEN CONSTANTLY that I can't even write coherent sentences because I'm WOKEN CONSTANTLY and being told to roll over to my side or stomach so that I stop snoring. I cannot roll over, motherfucker. I mean that in the most loving way possible.

No Funeral Yet

This morning, our vet came over to check on poor Rusty since he keeps crapping the bed and the foyer. Turns out he isn't on his deathbed, just has a run-of-the-mill intestinal bacterial disturbance. He got a cortisone shot, a bottle of antibiotics and a case of special dog food. I have to mix a little plain yogurt in his food to rebuild the good bacteria in his system.

The vet said he's pretty healthy for an old man dog. He's actually pretty pissed off because he got poked and prodded but he's cuddled up in the softest blanket in the house, on top of two pillows so he should be over it soon.

My newest neighbor emailed me to see if everything was ok. She knew he was sick (and ancient) so I think she thought we were having him put down since we had a mobile vet here. I reassured her that everything is ok so she wouldn't go baking casseroles or anything. You know us Southern women have to start baking casseroles if any death is in the air.

Thank You, Dr. Google

Dr. Google isn't always right but you can't argue with his fees.

My latest meeting with Dr. Google is to discover the root of the pain I've had in my rib for weeks. The rib pain comes nearly every night and stays with me all night but is normally gone in the morning. It's a sort of burning pain, like a stitch in your side from running. Multiplied and overstaying it's welcome. There's no walking it off, drinking it off or medicating it off. I just have to deal with it until I fall asleep and wait for it's return the next evening. My dealing is done so I'm calling my doctor in the morning to see what we can do about this crap. Dr. Google is telling me that it's a gallbladder/gallstone issue. Dr. G diagnosed me with gout last time I had a problem and it turned out to be bunions, or more accurately the beginning of bunions. Don't think I have gnarly bunion hooves because I don't. I am way overdue for a pedi but that's as gnarly as it gets. My point is that Dr. G isn't exactly too reliable so I may have some muscle with a kink in it. In case it's my gallbladder, please work up a meals on wheels schedule so that my family isn't starving while I waste away in a hospital. If I have to go under the knife I'm going to ask them to remove my overgrown tonsils and adenoids so that I can stop snoring. If I can save on that OR bill, I can afford to be put into a faux coma until my throat and abdomen heal appropriately.

Great Advice

I'm in the stage of parenting right now that straddles wanting to hold onto my babies and wanting to give them the room to grow up. Last Thursday, I met Tootie's first-grade teacher for the first time and she said something that really made an impression on me. I was the only parent in the room at the time so we had plenty of time to chat and she said, "I work them pretty hard during the day and try to not burden them with a ton of homework. It's important for kids to get to be kids". What a concept! Education is not my field and only time will tell how this whole thing turns out but I am feeling really at ease with our school system.

My New Career

Apparently I have a newfound career. I didn't ask for this job or even want it, but I'm stuck. I'm a caregiver to a geriatric chihuahua. Rusty is nearly 12 and he has lost his sight completely in one eye, partially in the other and is pretty much deaf. He has started pooping in his bed at night, all over his three blankets. He even stuck his ass up against his kennel and got a turd completely out of the kennel, onto the carpeted floor of Fidel's home office.

I just emailed Fidel and told him that the dogs aren't allowed any table food at all from now on. Hopefully he's just getting too many little "bites" from our plates and doesn't have some condition. He's going to have a condition called "being put to sleep" if I have many more days of cleaning up slimy smelly dog crap.

Day One

Tootie went back to school as a first grader this morning. She was so excited and I was a little sad. She is doing a few things to become more independent of The Great Enabler this year. She picked out her clothes last night, and fussed at me when I tried to put the toothpaste on her toothbrush this morning. She did blow me extra kisses from the back seat of Fidel's car as they backed out of the garage. She must have known that I'd need a few kisses, being stuck home alone with Moggie and all.

Moggie has pretended to be various Chipmunks and Chippettes all morning. She's planted about 20 virtual gardens on the computer and fed me at least 3 imaginary pumpkin pies. All of this while I've been cleaning out dressers and doing laundry.

With all of this structure stuff starting up today, I figured that today was as good a day as any to start planning my meals after the free-for-all that summer turned out to be. Let's hope this planning thing and the walks to the bus stop do something to combat the spread of my rear end.

Should Have Found This Sooner

I really should have found this book sooner.

I went to Tootie's registration for first grade this morning. I should have gone unshowered, wearing my Dr. Seuss tshirt and comfy shorts. Instead I broke out a Polo shirt (that's as dressed up as I get in the daytime), made my face and fixed my hair. I made eye contact with the PTA chicks and got sucked right in. I clicked a little too well with Tootie's teacher and walked out holding the title of Room Mom. I wonder if this gig comes with a sash? If not, I'll make one. I've always wanted a job that required me to wear a sash with glittery letters.

Since I have gone to the bus stop (in the afternoon, no less) in pajamas more than once, I figured I'd have my picture on the front of the White Trash Mom Handbook but given this morning's behavior, I'm looking more like one of the Muffia chicks.

I'm Official!

I am officially a licensed driver. Until 2018. Tootie will be 16 when I need my next license.

I had to take Moggie's school application and registration fee by her preschool this morning and since I was dressed and halfway to the DMV anyway, I just drove on over there to get it over with. I expected the worst but I was pleasantly surprised at how fast and easy the whole process was. I was seriously in and out in 15 minutes. And I had the girls in tow! My picture looks like shit but at least I won't go to jail if I get pulled over now.

The DMV provides a great people watching opportunity. There was one younger guy there who was into the whole Emo look (I think that's what it is) and he had on Ed Hardy shoes, and these jeans that were just hilarious. I don't even know how one would go about finding a pair of jeans that unflattering. They were painted on, skintight purpley washed jeans. The pockets on them were way down at the bottom part of his ass and the waist was really low-riding, which worked together to make it look like his ass had slid down toward the bottom of his pelvis. It was probably wanting to hide from the shame.

Of All Things

This afternoon, I had to run out to the grocery store for some side dishes to go along with Fidel's ribs for dinner. I planned to make jalapeno creamed corn but the corn looked unsuitable to feed goats, so I had to change my plans right there in the produce section. I decided to make a mac and cheese and went on about my shopping. I swear, it took me forever and I went through 3 people to find a package of goddamned Velveeta. I was waiting on this chick to move out of my way by the regular cheese section when it hit me, that of all the shit in the grocery store, I was burning time looking for fake cheese. Fake cheese that I ended up finding in the beer aisle. Can't buy beer from the beer aisle on Sunday but you do have to cart past the beer to find the fake cheese. For someone who has been out of beer for 2 days, that's just cruelty.

That's MY Warning

Last night, the neighbor kid came over uninvited (as always) and took a break from snooping around in our garage to beat my kids with a stack of swords that he brought over from his house after I took away the foam pool noodle he was using to beat them. Moggie was riding her scooter and bike down the driveway, and according to the girls, the neighbor kid attacked her with his play swords and knocked her off of the bike, resulting in the hide being barked off of her poor elbow. Fidel gave the kid a warning that if he did anything to hurt the girls again he wouldn't be allowed to step foot in our yard. The girls were just talking about the warning and Moggie raised her eyebrows and said, "Well if he steps foot in my yard I'm going to beat him in his face. That's MY warning". It was so funny.

Fidel is more patient with this crap than I am. I told the little fucker to take his swords home and I'm not allowing him back over here. I haven't talked to his parents yet because 1) they don't care and it will do no good anyway and 2) I'm PMSing and grumpy and I fear the redneck beast inside me. I know that accidents happen but this wasn't an accident.