Spank Him

This morning while running errands, I was in the frozen food section of Wal-Mart stocking up on chicken nuggets and Moggie toast (Eggo French Toast Sticks) and there was a lady with 2 toddlers in the basket area of her cart. The boy toddler was standing up and wouldn't sit down for anything. I passed her three times and each time she was pleading with him, "Please sit down. This is not appropriate behavior", etc. I wanted to tell her, "Girlfriend, you are in the Wal-Mart. Spank him." You will never find a more suitable place to spank a butt than the Wal-Mart. And the funny thing about it is that most of the patrons would applaud you. There's something about entering the doors of a Wal-Mart that makes normally unacceptable behavior suddenly acceptable. I whacked one of my kids in the head with a pack of bacon one day in full view of everyone in the store and no one made a peep. Except for the kid who was whacked with the bacon.

Up and At 'Em Monday

Last week, my brand new laptop pooped out on me. Luckily, Fidel was a computer geek in a former life so he fixed it up for me yesterday. I was using the girls' computer and that wasn't working out well for anyone.

Today begins the countdown for a two-week mother in law visit. She is flying in on Thursday so I need to get off my ass and MIL-proof the house. Good thing I'm a packrat and keep all sorts of shit when it's no longer needed, because although my children have passed the cabinet lock stage, my MIL just entered it. She has tons of health issues and is so medicated that I call her Judy Garland. Judy got up one night recently and poured herself a bowl full of unshelled walnuts, covered them in milk and took a bite. Another morning, she woke up to find her front porch was covered in dog food, because she had gone out and scattered it in the middle of the night in her Ambien fog. I will be locking up the pantry at night, as well as setting the alarm so that we will know if Judy gets out of the house and starts wandering the neighborhood.

I'm off to do the preschool drop off, then home to work out and dig through the crap in the basement for cabinet locks.

It's Gonna be a LONG Weekend

We had a truckload of mulch delivered this afternoon so we get to work in the yard all weekend, or at the very least all day tomorrow. In preparation for the new mulch, I have been outside with a shovel trying to dig up 2 enormous lambs ears plants to split up and replant. Between the neighbor kid, his mom, and Moggie it's been a freaking uphill battle to get anything done. I was successful at getting Moggie to go play elsewhere. Unfortunately that elsewhere turned out to be the basement, and she got my exercise ball, brought it into the back yard and proceeded to roll it down the hill, over into the impassible area of ravine. She's screaming bloody murder (and she is LOUD. Trust that.) in the front yard, Tootie is at the top of the ravine squealing about spiders (and I'm terrified of those), Weiner Dog and I are scaling slippery rocks and I'm holding onto huge rhododendron branches and trying to grasp a huge ass exercise ball with my feet. I guess the Good Lord was watching out for me today because not only did that rhododendron branch hold my fat ass, but I was able to get that ball up and out of the ravine. I was right next to a hole that could only have been made by a snake so I made the ball retrieval pretty fast.

My afternoon of productivity was shot to shit. I think it's about beer-thirty.

Pros and Cons of Memory Loss

I have a bad case of CRS (Can't Remember Shit) and I have found that while it has it's obvious problems, you also reap a few sweet benefits from CRS. Television reruns are not a problem. I can watch the same shows over and over and laugh/cry/be surprised each time. I don't miss shows like Lost that have long hiatuses because after a few days I forget the shows exist. Not complete amnesia or anything- I don't see a preview for Lost and go "Damn, is this a new show because I have never heard of such a thing" but more like "Oh yeah, I forgot this show was on". I can seriously buy myself gifts a month or so before the occasion and as long as I wrap it, I completely forget what it is. Unfortunately we had one horrible Christmas here where Fidel decided doing no gifts for me was a good idea so yes, I have bought my own gifts.

One unfortunate part of memory loss is not being able to hold a grudge. I know that may sound like a wonderful perk but there is a reason we hold grudges and that's so we don't keep reliving situations that we should have learned from in the first place. Now I'm naturally a bitchy person with a bitter streak, even though I'm blissfully happy. I'm like a Pollyanna cynic, one big old contradictory mess. I'm a good judge of character and within a few minutes I can tell if I like someone or if we will be better off being very casual acquaintances. A lot of times I can make a mental note to steer clear of people I don't like but that's often all I will remember. In the case of the Neighbors from Hell, I'll easily get sucked into a conversation with one of them until some stupid falls out of their mouth and then I'm like, "Oh yeah, that's why I don't like these fuckers" and it all comes back, only to be lost again. I just need to remember to keep it brief with them and go on about my business.

The post below actually made me think of this discussion because commenters were asking if Neighbor Kid was the same one I've been bitching about, and yes he is. Mush Mouth/Neighbor Kid/Future Stalker/Little Lying Fucker, it's all the same kid. He's sneaky, he will lie right to your face even if you catch him red-handed, and is overly aggressive (tries to hold them under at the pool, holds them down to kiss them, shows his pecker, beats them with foam swords, runs over them with his bike, etc. )with my girls so I don't like him, don't have to like him and will likely never like him, all with good reason. I'm tying this so I don't forget it and then get soft hearted and go through the escalation process over and over again because that situation is hopeless.

On a funny note, the mom of this kid put him in camp with my girls last year, even weaseling him into the same class as Tootie. I've kept summer plans to myself this year and she asked me a few weeks back to join her in doing an activity once a week with them, like the zoo and various parks. I'm just grateful that we have some good neighbors moving in next door, and they already know the deal with the Neighbors from Hell from the conversations they have already had with them. At least the "stay away from my kids" deal won't just be from me.

In A Pickle

We have neighbors across the cul-de-sac with a kid in kindergarten just like Tootie is, but right there is where anything in common ends. She is a good bit older than I am, the husband is a nutso, she bickers and complains and gossips about who doesn't have any money (tacky) and I really don't want to be anything more than neighbors. Wave, say hello and go on about my business. I do not want Neighbor Kid over here. It may be just that he is a boy but he is so freaking rough with my girls. We were outside as a family on Easter Sunday blowing bubbles and he comes over and starts tackling my girls so that he could pop bubbles. Nevermind that there were enough bubbles spread about for 20 kids, this little fucker just has to be on top of the girls.

I was at the bus stop on Monday and the bus drove by to turn around in a cul-de-sac and I saw Tootie's head pushed against the window and Neighbor Kids arms flailing about. When Tootie got off of the bus, I discovered that NK had been ripping apart a little Peanut Girl art project that Tootie did in school. It's Wednesday and I haven't said anything yet, because I want to be completely sure of my next step. I'm planning to call the principal to set a meeting to discuss some avoidance techniques, like not having them in the same class or same seat on the bus. He has no freaking boundaries and I am over him being a problem to me. I just don't know if it's acceptable behavior for me as an adult to tell his parents that I don't want him over here under any circumstances. I may be the only person in the world annoyed by him but I just cannot get over it.

Is That You, Mother?

This afternoon I got a call from a drunk slurring woman with a strong Southern accent. No it wasn't my mother, it was Momzilla's. She wants me to help her do something while she is down here taking care of Momzilla and the new baby. I'm just calling Momzilla Momzilla at this point because I don't want to use her real name and she would laugh if I called anyone else Momzilla so hopefully if she ever finds this blog she will think it's funny.

Either way, speaking to her mom reminds me that my own mother has been pretty sedate here lately. She's been really good, actually. She's asked me to bring the girls over for a weekend so Fidel and I can get away. I think she's convinced that I have breast cancer. I ended up telling her (and only her) about my boob issue because I wanted to know if there was a history of breast cancer in her side of the family and I had to spill why I was asking. The wait for the mammogram is killing me. I intentionally scheduled it far out because I have to do it on a Wednesday and I didn't want to miss Moggie's Easter party at school last week and I didn't want know this week, either. I figured ignorance is bliss but I've had enough time to come to grips with the fact that something is going on since my hormone levels and boob culture came back normal. Now I'm just ready to find out what's going on!

Oh The Stench

I grow my own mint for cocktails (and lemonade and iced tea) and I bought this little Herb Bible so that I can take proper care of my mint to ensure happy times this summer. It's just coming back to life after wintering outside and I read that you are supposed to fertilize with something called Fish Emulsion and not regular fertilizer because the fish emulsion doesn't dilute the flavor of herbs. What fish emulsion does, however, is stink to high hell. I think it is literally ground up fish carcasses. It's shit brown liquid that smells like 4-day old roadkill on a hot summer day. There are construction workers next door facing a home with stacked stone and I was out gagging and spitting in the driveway after opening the putrid shit. I bet you will find more appealing crap oozing out of a septic tank.

I believe that Fidel will be giving my herbs their nutrients this summer because I can't stomach that shit. And of course I have a huge jug of it.

Aggravating People and Making Peace with Cardio Party

This isn't directed at anyone in particular, but just to people in general. If you are being aggravating and someone is trying to say no to you nicely, just chill the hell out. It's the people who cannot take no for an answer that drive bitches like me batshit and make me lose my temper. I swallow a pill every night, make the monthly trip to the pharmacy and semi-annual doctor's visits just so that I have the ability to tell you "no" nicely those 4-10 times it takes before I'm screaming. I'm too quick to say "Fuck Off" and I have made considerable efforts to temper that behavior, so meet me halfway and don't make me lose my shit. That means no passive-aggressive shit, no whining, just move the hell on.

Moving on...

I made peace with Cardio Party this morning. I have been avoiding it like the plaque but I did it and Turbo Sculpt this morning. I now need to go make peace with the shower and the Lever 2000 because I'm raunchy.

Son of a Bitch

I just googled for images of Jeff Healey to use on a hilarious story about Moggie pretending to play the piano and closing her eyes halfway like Jeff Healey, but apparently he died this month (WTF celebrity gossip sites??) and I just don't feel like posting a picture now because it's depressing and unfunny. He was only 41. Cancer sucks. Everyone has seen Roadhouse at least ten times and with Patrick Swayze being in the news with his cancer you would think someone could have mentioned that poor Jeff Healey died.

Someone needs to start a celebrity gossip blog for us grown-ups who don't give a shit about seeing Paris Hilton's cooter or Britney's cottage cheese ass. If I ran such a blog I'd dedicate Fridays to posting scantily-clad 80's hair band dudes, starting with Jon Bon Jovi. Kip Winger would be for week 2.

ETA- Apparently the rest of the world knows about Jeff Healey dying and I am apparently not up to speed on recent celebrity deaths.

Attention to Detail

I was driving Moggie to preschool this morning and drove past a "Prison Work Detail" sign. I crested a hill and there was the orange bus with prisoners walking beside it picking up garbage. Since the bus was taking up the whole right lane, there were two prisoners holding the "STOP" and "SLOW" signs. The prisoner in my lane was holding a STOP sign facing me and he was waving me through like I was an asshole for not being sure whether to continue driving or to stop. I pointed at his sign, rolled my window down and said, "It's that same attention to detail that put your ass on a prison bus". Well I didn't really say anything because I was too busy answering questions about why it's spring but I definitely thought it. Plus I prefer to keep my windows up and my doors locked when I'm driving through a prison work area.