A Year Since Damn-It: Happy Mother's Day!

I've been reading back through blog entries from 2009 today. I can't believe how many posts mention my children, and the crazy ass things they do! Many of the things they say and do are completely worthy of a blog... even if it's just for my own collage of memories. Some of the stories tend to amuse others, even outsiders, which makes me happy!
Here is a favorite of mine from June of last year. It walks the reader through the creative sundae-making process of 3 young children. Enjoy: http://kellysoriginals.blogspot.com/2009/06/water-coffee-creamer-baby-carrot.html

Now that Joel has a new home, and the kids spend just as much time there as they do here with Dan & I, I miss them like crazy when they are away. Let me rephrase that... the first day is like heaven... free as a bird heavenly. By day 2 I miss them like crazy. I will still never, ever understand how parents or grandparents can, by choice, spend months away from their children or grandchildren. Those kids, along with Dan and my friends, are my life.

Anyway, often after day one of having the babies back at our house, I'm usually ready to ship them back to Daddy's for a while. The feeling passes, and you may think I'm terrible for feeling that way, but the time we spend with them is precious time, and we both know that.
So, today I am reminded why I became a Mom. Two stories, two kids, one very amused me.

Story 1) Logan (3 1/2) is obsessed with bananas. He loves them. He loves to peel them, look at them, eat them... he's just a banana kid. I have no complaints... they are cheap and easy... just as I like em. Logan & I spent some quality 1:1 time together this morning while the twins were at preschool. I'm still banned from work until my eye has been drenched in antibiotics for 24 hours, and since the doctor prescribed me SULFA, which I'm crazy-allergic to, I'm back to square one. I'm not feeling too terrible at this point honestly, so being banned from work for a day isn't such a problem.
Okay, so I got off-track there... Before Logan & I left the house to pick up the twins from school, he asked if he couldn't have a banana (his second of the day). Me, being the push-over that I am, said yes. We got into the van and Logan peeled his banana, and quickly ate through 1/4 of it. While we were waiting in the parking lot, I took a picture of him happy with his nanner...

I cranked up some music so he'd have some tunes to go with his 5th snack of the day, and soon I hear, "MOM!" (in Logan-speak)... "Turn 'at down!" I looked back at him and he had the most annoyed look on his face. Once he saw I was paying attention, he got very serious and said, "Mom, this nana is igusting (that's Logan-speak). It has poop in it"... I started laughing like a hyena and watched as Logan spit out the pointy end at the bottom of his stick of fruit :P I'm not sure how many bananas will be in his immediate future. He was thoroughly "isgusted". Note to readers: Don't consume the point of a banana... it apparently has poop in it. :)

Story 2) Abbigail & Aiden ran out of school, armed with plants they had potted for me for Mother's Day, and cards with their pictures on them. I nearly started crying, but then remember that my "bad" eye would pay hell for that, so I sucked it up and gave them hugs (no eye contact involved thankyouverymuch).

As we were driving down the road, the kids and I spotted a few yard/garage sales (an everlasting weakness of mine... trash to treasure and all that jazz). I asked them if they would like to have a yard sale, because Mommy, Daddy and Dan all have some things they could probably sell. I also explained to the kids that if they wanted to put some of their toys, etc. in the sale, they could keep the money. They liked this idea, and immediately starting racking their kid brains for sellables :)

After they yelled out the names of a couple of toys, Abbi said, "Mom! I know! That blue blanket! I want to get rid of that. I'll sell it. All I use it for is to wipe my boogers on". Oh my God! The banana incident didn't even register in my brain after that very honest confession! I cracked up! Abbi did not understand why. As I laughed, she worriedly asked me if I was okay, and if I was still happy with my cards and plants. She was clueless... completely, honestly clueless.

These kids make me who I am. I'm glad the combination of our sick, twisted personalities are rubbing off on them. They will never been ordinary. They are kooks! And I love them just as they are.

One year ago Sunday, Abbigail said "Damn-it" for the first time. I look forward to what this Mother's Day will bring. The kids have a whole day to out-do themselves, although I'm not sure the blue booger blanket is beatable, honestly.

Fuzz & Fluff

Beauty in Furr-Form

It occurred to me this evening that I haven't blogged since the new year began. I have lots of happy things to dwell on right now, which is an incredible contrast to some of last year's life changes (see most-recent blog post for details). The holidays were extremely tough, but I had work to keep me busy, and friends to keep me sane ;) Thank God for my babies! They reminded me to keep my spirits up, and I sailed into the new decade quite hopeful... and I haven't been let down. Persistence and patience *sigh* are wonderful qualities. While my persistence is nothing short of one of my finest qualities, patience does not come naturally to me. Quite honestly it doesn't come to me at all. But somehow I've managed to practice it over the past few months. Patience pays off. :0) *big happy smiles*



As I sit here with my new-ish-to-me Himalayan kitty cat, Sasha, I realize that if you have been reading my blog for a while (I've made it past the one year mark, by the way! *self pat on the back... or ass... or wherever*), you probably know that I'm an animal lover. Yes, I have degraded helpless pets in the past by writing mean stories about them, but deep down, I love them to pieces. Sitting here with my lovely Sasha, I can't deny it... I'm smitten with a cat ^^= ♥!

Sasha became part of the family on December 9th of last year. She's been with us for over a month now, and she is an absolute delight! She's good with the kids, although I have decided against getting her declawed, due to the fact that the poor little fluff needs to play defense now and then, and the fact that a kneading, loving cat is just, well... natural. While I have had pet cats declawed in the past, it strikes me as funny now, as we tend to not de-fingernail (or de-toenail, for that matter) humans, unless they have been incredulously naughty (in the bad type of way, not the rawrrrr type of way)... so why subject our poor kitty to the ripping out of the claws. I'd rather not.

As I tend to get off-track, let me get back to the subject at hand, Ms. Sasha. I first learned about the dear poof ball from my best friend Anne. She mentioned that there was a kitty hanging out way out in the country, in the cold and snow, and although Anne's friend and her neighbors were feeding Sasha, she didn't have a real home. This went on for a few weeks. One night Anne sent me a picture of her, and I instantly became giddy! It had been over 5 years since I had a kitty... and I happen to LOVE Himi's and Persians, so this was like a dream come true. I did have plans to get a kitty this year, and that is still the plan (yes, Sasha will soon have a brother or sister... unless they are fond of each other, and then that's just incestuous and gross)... I just didn't count on a beautiful purr baby falling in my lap like she did. I'm thankful for her.

The night Anne took the kids and I out to meet Sasha, I was excited. I had a bit of guilt, because I was intent on waiting for a pet... but as soon as I saw her, I fell in love. I had to have her! She had to come home with me! She was needy for attention, and just beautiful as could be. She looked like an angel, and she had to be mine.

I bought the bare necessities for our girl... litter box, liners, litter itself, a bowl and food. Sasha was a hair skiddish at first (she found comfort under the Christmas tree and hiding in some duct in the basement), but she soon came around! She is now miss sociable Sasha. Everyone that stops over loves her! And it melts my heart when she sits in the window seat in the early mornings, watching the kids and I scoot off for the day. Nearly every morning I hear "bye house, bye Sasha" as we're driving down the road. She's just as much part of this house as our house is now, if that makes any sense. Basically she's a fixture. She moves, but she's a fixture. Huh... moving on... fixing to move on... jeez, just move... :P

While I'm on the topic of pets, my lovely-as-he-could-possibly-be boyfriend sent me a link tonight to a video on youtube. I watched that video, and then I stumbled onto several more. If you are an animal lover, you will find pure enjoyment just from watching this 41 second video by Parry Gripp. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X2F4EFYM_MA&NR=1

And this is the video that made me dig for more: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SMWi7CLoZ2Q&NR=1

And one more... if you are a cat lover, you will appreciate these very useful flushing felines... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hcuv9RuO0NE

Check out youtube for more. The bunny at the end of video number one made me giggle and cry at the same time.

So, in closing, as you've probably heard, people who have pets are happier people. Statistics suck, in my opinion, but this I happen to believe. I truly missed having pets in my life. I'm happy someone neglected their beautiful cat... I'm sorry she spent so many nights in the cold... but I'm happy she became OUR house cat :) She'll be spoiled rotten for the rest of her 9 lives.

Shit Happens :) Happy Shit Even...

2009 has truly been an amazing year for me. It has been a very pivotal year, an overwhelmingly honest year and, while I realize I will continue to grow and to learn, this is the year that I came into myself... the year I realized who I am, who I want to be and who I want to spend my days with. This will be a year I reflect on for the rest of my life.

My best friend told me not so long ago that more than 3 life changes within a year is too much for any given person. Luckily, because I refuse to believe in statistics (they're always flawed) and enjoy taking my own happy-go-lucky path, I am moving along quite nicely through the life changes that are just continuing to rack up.

1) We nearly lost her. Anne and I have been friends for many years. She and her boyfriend are family to me. As I mentioned in a few prior posts this year, we nearly lost her to a horrid infection. Then, because of both of us being extremely stubborn, we nearly lost each other again. Thankfully we found our way back to our forever-friendship, and now have a new appreciation for one another. I'm thankful for her.

2) The move. We purchased a house on land contract. I fell in love with it. I fell in love with the sun room, the bedroom, the kitchen, the dining room, the big yard, the nice neighborhood... I fell in love with the entirety of my new home. I don't even mind the psychotic man across the street who enjoys calling the police when someone pokes a yard sale sign in his beloved tree.

3) No more Twinfants and Twoddlers. While many people see their kids starting school as just the step following toddlerhood, it was something I have feared and anticipated since they were born. My twins started school this year. It was traumatizing and wonderful for me. My babies are getting old, which means I'm getting old (I also turned 30 this year, but I'm not highlighting that, so forget about it :P). On the rare occasion I get to pick them up from school, they run out to me, full of pure joy, and scream for me! I have to catch my breath when I see how much these little people love me so unconditionally. I've never had that. I now do.

4) The signing. Joel and I signed our divorce papers on November 7th, our 11th wedding anniversary. There is much speculation of why, how, what, when, where, etc, and the God's honest truth is, we were just friends living together. He remains one of my best friends. We both just deserved a chance at finding true love. We were not that for one another.

5) Operation: Reject Kelly. My family no longer speaks to me or my children. I'm simply happy. I'm functional. I'm getting along just peachily (yep, totally made up that word) without the ins and outs of a family whose only respect comes from decisions that are made which match their own very strict and stern beliefs. I'm a better woman having gone through this. And I'm taking a wonderful new path with my children... a path much different than I was accustomed to. This changed my life for the better.

6) Be An Original. I realize that starting a blog isn't life-changing for most, but reading back, I realize how cathartic it has been for me this year. While my entire life is not an open book, I have let the world (or at least my 40 followers :) in on the important bits and pieces which are appropriate for the human eye ;) I'm quite proud that I am following through with this. I look forward to blogging. I love writing. Love it. It's my dream, and damn-it, this is a start :)

7) The One. I fell in love. Absolutely, totally and completely fell in love. Very few people understand it. No one understands it the way we do, but we do, and that's all that matters. I have found everything I wanted and never knew existed. I have found him, and I cherish him.

*7* is a lucky number for many folks (trust me, I was in Vegas 2 very long months ago). I suppose these 7 events, which I consider to all be life-changing, were stepping stones toward meeting myself, the real me. I've found her. I actually quite like her. She's genuine, caring, loyal, loving, adaptable & very capable of loving with her whole heart.

I have truly broken a cycle this year. I can't say I grew a pair (I have the wrong organs for that ;), but I most-certainly grew a backbone, learned to love myself and found what I truly needed and wanted for the rest of my days on this earth... My babies, my friends, my soulmate and myself. I just needed to find myself in order to appreciate the rest.

Happy Thanksgiving -Double Divorced :)

So if you check my blog often and eagerly only to be disappointed because I'm a total slacker, you may be surprised that I am actually blogging twice in a week! This is a rare occurrence as of late.

While I could easily blame my lack of blogging on busyness, I won't. I tend to make time for most things I need to or want to do, if they hold any interest to me. Honestly, my heart has been so rollercoaster-y lately, I haven't had the umph, pizazz or normal bullshit attitude to blog properly. And I refuse to post a non-proper entry. Proper to me is cursing, plotting, making fun of folks and turning generally boring objects into fun, sexy, beautiful and rancid joyballs (those small things that make us oh, so happy)... for a spot on example, check out my post "Heda Lettuce"... It's a riveting illustration of stupid humor at its finest.

If you take life too seriously, and don't care for hardcore situations being made into light and fluffy, mushy, soupy stuff, you should stop reading now. This will save me from receiving hateful comments (although they are always welcomed and appreciated), and will save you from having the blood boiling throughout your body, putting you in the hospital with some explosive blood disease... and don't try suing me! Do you know how f'ing easy it is to delete a blog? I know from experience, because I deleted my weight-loss blog, which I only had intentions of keeping for one inspired day. Yeah, try to sue me, and I'll prove this post never existed :P *evil cackles*

I warned you! This is your last chance NOT to read on.

The controversial topic I will be talking about today, my dear readers, is divorce. You see, my husband of 11 years (we've been together for 15) and I have decided to go our separate ways. Actually, we are agreeing upon almost everything (I want those damn red gym pants back, Joel!), which is making the process much easier, because we are going with a dissolution. And thanks to Joel being of the law enforcement variety, we even got a discount on that! So, while getting married is much cheaper than divorcing (in the most literal terms), both can bring just as much peace and harmony to one's life. Joel and I are a perfect example of that.

Although the decision to divorce was primarily mine, Joel and I both agreed that we would both be happier going our separate ways. Because of the divorce, and me being the named "bad guy" in the situation (which by the way, marriages don't end because only one of the people in it sucks... it can be rather a mutual fuck-up)... my parents divorced me.

That's right. I now no longer have a husband (though we remain friends most of the time), I also don't have a family. The entire family disowned me and the babies. Not only am I ruining my kids lives you see, I'm also going to burn in hell once my Earth life is over, due to leaving a friendly companionship of a marriage. I would like to check and see if living a lie to keep a family together works out peacefully and wonderfully in the end, but I have decided not to stick it out to try it. I'll leave that to them.

I believe that our time on this planet should be happy. I believe that if you are knowingly staying in an unhappy, discontented situation, you are doing yourself an incredible disservice.

My babies will learn from me that it's okay to take your own path... even if it's at the disgust of others. And it's okay to make decisions that others don't agree with. That's life. We can't please everyone.

I have learned that I am an extremely strong person. I didn't take a chance when I made my decision. I KNEW it was the right decision for myself and the kids, and Joel too. While things are difficult right now in many ways, I'm truly feeling happiness. I am exhausted and getting used to being a single mother of 3, but I'm content with my new life. People see it. Friends at work have noticed. My oldest, closest friends see it. My kids see it.

If I were to do it all over again, would I disappoint them? Yes! I've been doing it my entire life. There is no winning them over. I've tried to gain their love and respect for years upon years. Unconditional love is apparently optional in this situation. My parents have been on 2 year+ long hiatuses from me before this... it's not a new feeling. But it didn't become bearable until I realized I can make my life what I want it to be! With or without the help of my fair-weather family.

Will I ever divorce my children? No! I've lived it and learned from it, and I know that taking hiatuses from my children is not ever going to be an option. They are my beautiful and wonderful, and we created them. No way will I ever let them go! My love for them... it is truly unconditional.

I have had an outpouring of support from my wonderful friends! I'd try to list them all, but then I'd forget people, and that would piss them off... and then I would have to keep editing this damn post, and as mentioned above, I am a blog slacker recently. I must not be bothered by editing. I'm proud enough when I get it typed once.

I do thank my friends for believing in me! For seeing the reality of the situation, and for not judging me. Very few people have given me negative feedback about this decision. My family just happens to be part of that little group. Even my Christian friends have had my back, and I thank you guys for that! You truly rock!

Today for Thanksgiving, I received two generous invitations to dinners. I also worked this morning voluntarily. I did decide to stay home after work and relax my day away. I knew the kids would be happy and giddy to be having Thanksgiving dinner at Mama and Papa's (Joel's parents). And I was quite content knowing that they would be coming home to me this evening. I do hope my old family had an enjoyable Thanksgiving.

I will never regret shooting for the stars. I will never be sorry that I chose to make all 5 of us happy (some sooner than others) and I will ALWAYS remember those of you who have been here for me, and I'm letting go of those of you who have not.

Friends TRULY ARE the family we choose.
I'm thankful for you.

Potty Mouth

Today was a frantic day for my family. Okay, I'm lying through my teeth right now. It was a frantic and traumatic day for me... and miss Abbi.

We started our day at 5am... sorta. I hit snooze, after waking up and realizing the baby was snuggled up against me as close as he could possibly be. He had teetered in at some point during the night, and I hadn't even noticed. What a love. I couldn't move. I just laid there. Now, whether I actually wanted to snuggle with the baby at 5am, or just use that as an excuse to sleep 5 more minutes, I can't tell. I know, but I won't tell you... :P

That brings me to the wake-up. I hopped out of bed.. literally, because at some point a giant semi (toy) also teetered into our bedroom and plopped it's big square very-hard-plastic ass onto the floor right where I step to get out of bed in the mornings.

Thankfully I had gotten my shower the night before, after my husband graciously made my roots the color they were meant to be... red... not the blonde God graced me with. I'm still a bit peeved at him for making me a natural blonde. It SO doesn't go with my skin tone. We'll have a talk once I get up there to meet him... Lord willing.

Anyway, I still felt rather clean from the shower I had taken last night, so I threw on my scrubs, added a few curls to the fro and painted my face. Not bad for 5:30am, I suppose.

I then packed myself some healthy goodies for work, filled 3 sippies, threw some diapers in the make-shift diaper bag (I finally threw away the lovely pale pink designer-knockoff bag Joel preferred :P) and tip-toed back to wake the lovies up.

Aiden was first. He popped out of bed like he had just realized his sheets were either frozen or on fire. He immediately went out to the living room. I turned on the light, and he gave me an evil little stare. "Mommy, this is WAY too early." "Join the club Aiden... this is how Mommy & Daddy feel every weekend day." Note to self: Tomorrow, wake Aiden up by screaming in his ear.

Abbi was next. She was a little slower than Aiden, but she knew what she had to look forward to (and fear) for the day, so she hobbled out to the living room, too. She had a mini-tantrum over her dress (too many buttons... wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh), but she recovered quite nicely. So I went to wake up the baby.

I shook him a little... not in a baby-shaking syndrome way... in a loving, get-the-hell-up kinda way. He turned over onto his belly, snoring happily. I jiggled his cute little baby leg. He sat up pissed. He started whining and I had to giggle. This was payback.

The getting-out-the-door process went rather smoothly, and we were on the road by 6:15am... off to Papa's house. The drop-off was drama free. The kids love Papa. They even got to see Mama for a quick minute before she left for work.

I got to work and fretted all morning... stomach ache, nausea... I thought I could seriously vomit. But I didn't. At 8:35am on the nose, I left work and met the kids & Papa at the church. First day of VBS. First day I've ever dropped my babies off ANYWHERE and left them. Sure, the grandparents watch them and we have a couple of very trust-worthy friends who have babysit, but this was entirely different.

As soon as we got to the church Abbi was in full-blown OCD mode. I wanted to cry. We registered. She asked me where the bathroom is. We got name tags. She asked me where the bathroom is. We met the teacher's helper. She asked me where the bathroom is. We showed her to her mat. She asked me where the bathroom is.

You see, Abbi did not have to pee. She has a major issue with potties. She must know where they are, how the door closes, who will take her, if she is strong enough to open the door & if it is just 'kinda loud' or 'really loud' when the potty flushes. Preschool starts in a few weeks, and this has been her main concern. The potty.

The teacher (who will also be her preschool teacher) helped to calm Abbi down. This whole time Aiden was being a champ. He was excited.

The teacher's helper showed us to the restroom. Abbi was satisfied after the teacher's helper promised her that if she had to pee, she would show her to the bathroom. Mission #1 accomplished.

Mission #2? Will Abbi be picked up. Mind you, we have never left our kids. We would never leave our kids and the fear Abbi has about us leaving her is extremely real and a bit odd to me. I assured her over and over and over and over again that Papa would be there to pick she & Aiden up at noon. I imagine she asked her teacher the same question 50,000,000 times throughout the day.

I told the teacher on the way out I was going to go cry. Abbi stared at me but didn't start throwing a fit or sobbing. I would cry enough for the both of us...

So I got back to work and had to auto-pilot myself through the morning. My stomach was REALLY aching at this point. I was shaky. I was a MESS waiting for noon to come. I couldn't wait. I couldn't wait to call Papa and find out if the kids had done okay. I had lots of faith in Mr. Aiden. I prayed I wouldn't get a phone call about Abbi. I didn't.

Noon came and went. I waited til 12:30 to call, so I could talk to the kids too. Joel called me at one point and I panicked. I just knew something was wrong. Nothing was.

The kids were SOOOOO excited when I talked to them! They had a fabulous time! I'm pretty sure they didn't even miss me, which makes me want to shout from the rooftops and cry profusely all at once. Day one done, 4 more to go.

VBS was the topic of the night... all we heard about. Logan is a bit too young to go, so he stayed with his Papa all day. He probably loved the attention. Trying to fight for attention when you don't say much, and have twin crazy children as your siblings, must suck.

Tonight we drove into town. One of the kids' favorite things to do is to go through the car wash. We save this for special occasions (I almost said rainy days, but that wouldn't be appropriate) and cabin-fever days. The van gets washed about once every couple of months. (Seriously, it was eight freakin' dollars and it didn't even BLOW DRY the damn van! RIP I tell ya!)

We're driving through (it was nearly dark and it WAS dark inside the car wash) and the baby just started WAILING. Big old sick-cow wails... seriously, he sounded like a wounded animal. From his perspective, I could see why he was so outrageously scared. Tiny Logan (alright he's not all that tiny, but compared to me he's an ant) versus the big car wash machines. I felt for him.

On our way home I couldn't help but think about the scary things in life. If we fear things as adults, can you imagine how small children feel? The world is HUGE to us, which makes it GIGANOURMAMUNDUS to them. We stopped for a train, and I realized how scary a train could be. I just prayed that if it derailed, it would derail off the other side of the track. Trains = Scary.

We got home and Abbi pointed at a giant bug on the wall. She called me over, and it was a GIGANOURMAMUNDUS mosquito. GIGANOURMAMUNDUS mosquito = Terrifying.

See what I'm getting at? Life is full of fear. We spend hours a day avoiding them, making people feel better about them, facing them & beating them. I just pray the train doesn't derail, the mosquito doesn't suck our blood and the toilet doesn't suck our asses down with it.

Life is damn scary. We'll never get out of it alive.

It's not worth worrying about. That's just how it is.

The end = Petrifying.

Tactical... When to Shoot, When to Smile & When to Shut Up... a user's guide to being less-evil

Thank You.

That is my baby's favorite word right now. Give him a piece of paper to color on. Thank You. Change his poopy butt. Thank You. Give him a kiss before bed. Thank You Mom. He'll even yell to me, I'll look over and he'll just say Thank You. It's amazingly adorable, and it makes me feel really, really good.

It doesn't make me happy just because it is so freakin' cute! It amuses me knowing that we, as his parents, have taught him that saying Thank You is not only the right thing to do... it often receives a reaction.

Manners. My 4 1/2 year old twins are lacking compared to Logan. Logan is just a thanker. I truly hope he knows what Thank You means, and he doesn't just love me ogling over him when he says it. Just now... "Mom... marker"... I give him the marker... "Thank You".... and although he will most-likely miss the paper and draw on our graffiti-inspired table, or possibly even the living room carpet (also creatively decorated), he can get away with a lot more... all because of manners.

That brings me to our Walmart greeters. I'm not going to stereotype by saying they are all evil, but let's face the facts, some of them... many of them... are. My husband has befriended a Meijer greeter. Meijer must require smiles during interviews, and they must make sure that the people applying are physically able to pull a single cart out of the herd of carts they are in charge of.

Greeters have several jobs... I realize this... they must un-herd carts (optional), smile (very optional with the likelihood of a smirk or a twitch being 28%), pretend like they care (only if they have time during their shift) and put little stickers of returned merchandise. Sticker-time is the perfect time to feel them out... not feel them up... unless they are hot... and see if they are even capable of engaging in conversation.

One of the pet peeves (near the top) of my increasingly long list of annoyances is people who are paid to greet. I can't tell you how many times I've greeter a Walmart greeter and they haven't greeted back. It pisses me off.

Side Note: Just now Logan asked for water. I gave it to him. Thank You.

So many people need employment right now. I realize Walmart greeters probably make minimum wage, if not only free fountain drinks and pretzel rods. This is no excuse. When you are hired in to greet, you should greet. And management should enforce a niceness policy. The problem is... often management is even pissier than the pissy greeters. Jerk faces!

I'm not only picking on Walmart employees. I also don't appreciate it when we walk into a nice restaurant and the bulimic bleach-blonde, tanned-to-the-hilt 'greeter' gives us the once over, and without speaking, leads us to a table, only to say in a whiny, bitchy voice, "your server will be right with you" ... my response? "I hope he/she is nicer than you... it's a good thing you don't get the tips, cause you'd be one broke bitc.... oh, never mind"...

I grew up on niceness. Mom was always very polite... too polite at times. She admits that now. She finally got sick of people walking all over her. Mom is very assertive today. She is a manager, as am I, and we are both likeably assertive. I've also learned not to let people walk on me, and I love the fact that it's okay to be firm and still be fun! Firmly fun. Hehe!

My whole point is... there is no point in being pissy with the world. Bad days happen. People suck on certain days and then they get better. Bad things happen... mostly to good people. A day of evilness now & then is allowed... but every freakin' day? Seriously! How do you make that okay in your mind? How do you wake up and say "I'm hateful. I will be evil and pissy with as many people as possible today"... that is what we call the reverse of affirmations... assirmations. Say these things in your mirror every morning, and they will make people think you are a complete ass. Feel free to print the following if you need added asspiration... inspiration for mean people:

1) I suck. My life sucks. My job sucks. If I am mean to people, maybe I can make them suck, too!

2) YAY ME! I woke up bitchy for the 120th day in a row! I think I'll shave my legs and cut myself on purpose so I can bitch about it all day.

3) Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, I'm gonna go eat worms.

4) If life were a porno, I'd be the 'go get me a bagel' boy, sent to run errands during every good scene.

5) Bad hair day, my boobs are sagging, I have missing teeth, the teeth I do have are green with fungus. I should go to my greeter job with a scowl on my face and my pistol carefully concealed... and pray I get to use it.

These are only a few of my favorite assirmations. Please email me for more information on learning to be an ass.

In all seriousness, I pride myself on being nice. Yes, there are days when I don't want to smile. I have even been known to yell at people for making me laugh or smile, after promising myself I wouldn't. Some days just suck. All days don't.

People don't deserve what you mean people put them through. The ultimate evil? Talking about someone behind their back and then being polite to their face. Ooooh, you have your own set of assirmations.... you are the ultimate evil.

The good news is, if you are an ass, an evil greeter or just a loather of everyone, including yourself, there is hope. Follow these simple steps and you cannot go wrong:

1) I am a hateful person. I am paid to greet people. If I don't be kind, I'll get fired and stomped upon. (Scare tactic... use regularly for consistent friendliness)

2) I suck. People know that. So if I even smile a little bit, people will wonder what in the hell is wrong with me and talk to me. (The glass is half full tactic. In all honesty, people may be scared half to death if you smile, and run far, far away)

3) People love me. They really, really love me. (The lie tactic... people really don't love you, but it's healthy for you to be delusional)

4) Although I have bad hair, sagging boobs, "summer" teeth and green fungus teeth, there is someone out there for everyone. (The wishful thinking tactic... you are wrong, but bonus! You went from self-loathing to self-loving. Enjoy that, cause that's the only lovin' you're gonna get!)

5) I might never be liked, but at least I'll try. (The Feel-Sorry-For-Yourself Tactic... people still won't like you, but at least you gave it a shot little buddy)

I hope these tricks, tactics, truths and assirmations have helped you in some way. I hope that if you are paid to be nice to people, you will try that. It's a shame that the nice folks have to sit at home and job hunt like an Amish man who hasn't eaten in a week.

Out with the hateful 'greeters' and in with the new.

It was a pleasure serving you today... visit us again soon. (The I don't really mean it but they pay me to say it so I will tactic)

Water, Coffee Creamer, Baby Carrot, Parmesan, Chocolate Sundae Anyone?

I'm used to my heathens. Like all kids, my children throw tantrums (yeah, don't tell me yours don't), smile wickedly when one of the other children gets in trouble... and their favorite thing to do? Play with things that are off-limits.

When they were little, the babies would open a gift (well, actually, we would open it for them, because they were born with ADD), and play with the box and/or eat the wrapping paper. No! They didn't swallow it. Sheesh! Give me some credit here.. I just let them gnaw on it a little. But they have always been more amused with household objects and packaging than an actual toy. That's just how they are. Give them a cardboard box, and some bubble wrap, and they're occupied for hours on end!

So, today is the last day of my 9-day hiatus from work. I laid the kids down for their nap earlier, and rather than tweeting, facebooking or emailing, I decided just to take a nap. The house is pretty much clean, I had chatted the hell outta my facebook and twitter friends, consciously decided to not do the work I brought home 9 days ago, and allowed myself to just veg. Aww... the couch...

I fell asleep quickly and woke up, what seemed like minutes later (it was actually 2.5 hours later) to Aiden yelling at me. I wasn't comprehending what he was saying. I'm normally a light sleeper, so those damn children must have tip-toed and whispered to do the damage I was about to see..

I heard Aiden yell at Joel. See, Aiden calls Joel, well.. Joel. He doesn't call him Daddy anymore. We think it's funny so we don't correct him (yeah, feel free to comment on our parenting skills. I can take ya. ;) Anyway, I heard him yell, "Joel, you can sleep longer if you want to, but Logan made a HUGE MESS!", and then I heard a door slam. Aiden was furious! I started laughing. He sounded like a miniature version of his mother & father combined.

So, I finally comprehended the twins telling me that Logan had made a "huge mess". I stumbled out to the play room/sun porch and about died! Then I started laughing like a full-on lunatic! ALL, and I mean ALL of the condiments (and many other refrigerated items) were sitting there. On the backboard of the basketball hoop, which they had placed on the floor, was a whipped up concoction of baby carrots, 10-12 bottles worth of water (we had NO water left in the fridge at all), hazelnut creamer (that kinda pissed me off, cause that's my favorite), Parmesan cheese and chocolate sundae syrup. See picture above.

Surrounding this lovely brew were emptied water bottles, ketchup, pickles and other various items which are off-limits, unless we are actually, well.. eating.

We decided the best punishment for such a sickening mess would be to make the children clean it up! The carrots were extremely slimy and gross, so this punishment did wonders! One by one, they carried carrots into the house. Aiden grabbed a jar of spaghetti sauce at one point, looked at me desperately and said, "Mommy, can you carry this? It's way too heavy for my little boy hands"... I laughed hysterically. He didn't find this funny at all. Someone had the strength to traipse out to the porch with the spaghetti sauce, so that person could obviously carry it back to it's home. He walked to the fridge like he was carrying a big box of horse dung, not a little sauce jar.

Aiden's comments left me startled. I was so amused, it was impossible for me to keep a straight face. Joel did the disciplinarian thing. He laughed in between, but unlike me, he was very careful not to let the kids see his amusement. I don't have that kind of control. And I certainly wasn't leaving! This was free entertainment!

Aiden screamed at Logan, "this is SO terrible. I'm SO disappointed!".. HA! As if he hadn't had a thing to do with it! So, we finally concurred that all three children played a part in this very organized, hilarious condiment scheme.

I couldn't help but spring some tears, and maybe a bit of pee, when Joel opened the window on the porch, and just threw the whole damn backboard outside... after the kids had cleaned it up. Joel doesn't get rattled very often, so this whole scene was extremely funny. The kids looked shocked. I know what they were thinking... "why did we just clean that up if JOEL was just gonna throw it outside?"... hehehehehehehehehe!

I asked Aiden why they did it... "cause it was fun Mommy"... and did you have fun cleaning it up? "Yes Mommy, I did"... wicked laughs! I couldn't take it! Joel says, "so, since you enjoyed making the mess and the cleaning up, will you enjoy the spanking you all are going to get?" Aiden: "No, but I won't cry"... Joel: "Oh yeah?" Aiden: "Yeah, cause you won't spank my butt, you can just smack my hand JOEL, Ok?" I couldn't hold it together at all.

Aiden looked over at me finally and said, "Mommy, I guess you're gonna have to go to the store and get some more of that cream for your coffee and water. I guess we can't eat tonight." Please remember, Abbi & Aiden are 4.5... they are twins... they are GOING to get into trouble. You know that saying, "what one doesn't think of, the other one will?" Well, it's amazingly true people! Logan, who is 2.5 is the tag-along. And the blamee. He doesn't talk much, so if the twins do something and they know it isn't right, Logan did it. They're learning... that we are a very smart Mommy & JOEL... not Daddy. Hehehehe!

Abbi sat on the couch pursing her lips, wanting a kiss. I laughed. Logan sat there holding his little tiny ass. I laughed. Aiden told JOEL he was sorry... I laughed. The kids were spanked. I didn't laugh, but I did as soon as they were done crying.

It was a fabulously entertaining evening here! No treats though. That broke their hearts more than the spankings. Aiden apologized several times tonight. He was very worried about the lack of water in the house. Little does he know we have faucets. He was also concerned about my morning coffee. I'm concerned too.

Tonight was, by far, the worst and the funniest event of my kiddos' lives. I'm glad it happened. I needed a laugh.

Ding-a-ling

**The Smart Ass**

My head is spinning from listening to the twins (my kids, not my breasts) playing pretend all morning (because breasts playing pretend would just be, well... strange).

Anyway, the kids have been playing with this little broken plastic purple house. I can't throw it away, because they would know. Even if I do something 'without them knowing', they know! They hunt me down and poke & prod at me all day. They stalk me! So, in short, the broken plastic purple house stays. I don't feel like being poked today.

Along with the plastic brokenness, they also have little tiny dogs and cats who have apparently morphed into my children in their minds. At one point today, Abbigail yelled "MOM!" hysterically 3 times. When I finally asked what was going on, she said scoldingly, "I am not talking to you!" with a giant sigh. I love it! I can sit back and not answer to "Mom" today... yay!

Since I hear "Mom" an estimated 5,000 times a day (more if I'm not working), I appreciate this pretend time. Aiden earlier yelled, "get outta this house or I will beat you." Now please realize, we don't say things of this sort to or around the kids. They do have an oddly fascinating love for the Powerpuff Girls, and I believe they are the cause of my children's evil-ness as of late. As a friend of mine would say, "bugger!"... we HAVE come to an understanding that the word 'Stupid' s NOT allowed in this house. I hate that word!

Among the list of other words I hate:
-Tender (ugh!)
-C*nt (just don't say it... I will gag)
-Scrotum (seriously, who would name a body part a 'scrotum' that is so close to another body part that is supposed to turn us on... YUCK!)
-Puss (uck... in every sense of the word! SO Gross!)
-Buford & Hog Leg (the two words my ex nicknamed his ding-a-ling.. he was obviously delusional, and I'm quite sorry he isn't computer savvy, cause I sure would love for him to see this. Heheheehehe *evil snicker*)

So, back to playing pretend, although I greatly enjoyed that little detour, while watching & listening to the kids, I realized how much people in general play pretend... put up a facade. I'm guilty of it. I'm sure you are too on occasion.

How often, in passing, does someone ask you how you're doing, and you say 'fine'. Rarely are we just 'fine'... but we continue to say it, whether we just want to get the hell away from the person asking, or we just don't feel like getting into the drama called our lives. To me, 'fine' is just a reflex now. I'm not sure that many of the people who ask really care. I think the 'how are you's' and 'how's it goin's' are actually auto-pilot questions, too. Sure, some people truly care when they ask, but often, it's just a formality.

One goal I have set for myself lately is to not ask cookie-cutter questions & reply to others with cookie-cutter answers. Who cares if they don't really care when they ask? At least YOU are being authentic if you give an honest answer. I appreciate it when people are genuine. I try to be. I almost always am, but sometimes 'fine' is just easier.

Make-believe for kids is a bit more innocent than grown-up 'play'. We adults really 'play' eachother constantly... go through the motions. It would be nice to know what people really think.

Then again, maybe a touch of make-believe isn't so bad. I tend to like this little place I call my lala land... a little too much. I don't think I could give it up. It's definitely my happy place.

So... my plan? I'll continue to be happy in my own little world, and to allow the slaps of reality to only burden me when they are truly important. Healthy? Maybe not. But it's my world, and I'll be enjoying the blissful chaos day after day...

Wanna join me?

Nailing, Screwing & Glass Licking...

I can never find a hammer. Our laundry room is full of pictures & doo-dads I wanna hang up. I procrastinate, not only because I think it's incredibly frustrating to hang a picture & it quickly becomes crooked, but also because of the fact that the hammer is never anywhere to be found.

Losing things happens a lot around here. I can never find my glasses. I can't tell you how many times I've vowed to put them in the same spot... it just doesn't happen. It's a bit ironic, really... blind girl looking for glasses which make her not quite so blind.

Feeling for them is more like it. It's really too bad glasses don't have a scent. I suppose scratch n' sniff glasses would be pointless, since one would have to find them to scratch them to sniff them. Hmm... that covers three of the senses. I guess taste is out. Licking around for anything just doesn't sound fun unless you are under the influence or in hot, steamy mode... though I have known some to enjoy a good glass licking (see above photo).

I won't even mention hearing... that would just be weird... talking glasses. Actually, it could be fun... after pondering... imagine your glasses yelling "YOU SUCK" or "Lick Me Baby" at a particular time each morning. Alarm clock glasses. Man, I could totally patent this stuff!

Back to the hammering now, cause I like that subject... the children know that I'm always hammer-less. I know right where the screws & nails are. I don't screw as much as I nail.. I prefer nailing for sure.

Aiden, bless his little heart, has offered me his plastic hammer from his tool kit on occasion. Last time he offered, I thought "why not?" ... it worked. It mis-shaped the plastic a little, but it did do the job. I've also been known to use random household items to nail something.. a can of peaches (no puncture wounds to report), the 'other end' of a screwdriver (why is it that the driver is always nearby?) and a baby doll head (no rude comments please... the plastic was VERY hard and the doll's head remained intact).

Other items I lose consistently include, but are not limited to:

-My cell phone

-My keys

-Brain cells

-Money

-As of late, my ass, thankfully :)

-Shoes (seriously, who loses shoes?)

-My kids (KIDDING!)

-Respect (for comments made, such as the one above) ;)

I'm going to set a goal to spend less time looking for things. Rather than having to trouble myself with putting things in their own little place, if I lose my glasses, I'll just go blind and pray I don't hit anyone or sign my life away. If I continue to lose the hammer, I'll just start screwing instead. If my keys are missing, I'll just steal the neighbor's motorcycle. If I lose my shoes, I'll wear my Betty Boop slippers and if I lose those, I'll stop at the nail salon... barefoot... and ask if I can get a pair of those pretty disposable pedicure thongs. If I lose my kids, I'll be thankful for a little vacation. If I lose my phone, you can't bother me. If I continue to lose brain cells, right on! ... I'll be even more closed off from the dark realities of this world... and if I lose respect, that's okay, cause I won't have the brain power to comprehend any of it.

To all of you fellow losers out there, let's drink to that! I'm buyin' a round of test tube 'skittles' shots all around...

And I wonder where my money goes...

Kissin' the Curb

I really don't remember ever blogging when I'm pissed off. I thought this could bring a new perspective to my oh-so-sweet image! HA! As I've mentioned in previous posts, I smile sweetly at people, say hello to everyone who crosses my angelic path, and think only good of others. Tonight this is not the case. I'm just irked. Mad, pissed, angry, evil... whatever ya wanna call it. I'm just AHHH! It's definitely NOT the night to mess with the Kelly. I may scream in your face or start laughing uncontrollably. You just never know when circumstances like these arise.

I'll start at the beginning...

I was visiting my best friend Sunday night. I took a trip down to the gas station to grab some Subway. We've both agreed in the past that deli meat sandwiches are not at all fun, nor a treat, but it was that or Taco Bell. The choice made itself.

So anyway, I get to the gas station & I'm feeling a bit woozy. This isn't too different from my usual state, so I don't think a lot of it. I stepped out of my car and immediately twisted my ankle. I then fell over a curb, fell onto my knees and then onto my nose. I had my glasses on, so the middle section decided to cut into my face. It was fabulous. And to top it all off, I then fell onto my forehead. Priceless!

To rewind this scene, I'm sure I would laugh hysterically, along with the rest of my friends & acquaintances, who all assume I had been drinking when this incident occurred. Just so you are all aware, I was not inebriated. I was, however, drinking grape sugar-free Kool-Aid, which I hear causes green bowl movements. How interesting! I'll get back to ya on that one!

So after falling in slow motion, I then sat on the pavement, unable to get up. A guy walked out of the gas station, looked at me, didn't say a word and got into his car. I smiled at him. How nice that he stopped to make sure I was okay. Asshole!

Then a lady ran to me and asked if I needed some napkins. I felt my face, and when I looked at my hand, I freaked out just a little more. I was bleeding! A lot! Sure lady... bring me some napkins. I stared at her blankly. What I thought had come out of my mouth hadn't. But she went to get my napkins anyway.

When she got back, she asked if I needed help up. I explained to her that getting up at that point wasn't gonna happen. I think she thought I was crazy. She was right :0) Hehe.. okay, so a little smile just emerged from my irritability. Dam it.

So, after I was holding some napkins, I put the contents of my purse back together, grabbed my evil glasses (I will soon be a full-time contact wearing diva) and stood up. Oh woozies.. it woulda felt good if it didn't feel oh, so bad!

I got in my car. A man ran up to me and asked me if I was okay to drive. "Probably not, but I'm gonna" I said. I then drove back to the nursing home. I called my mom, who works there, to ask her if there was any way to get to my friend's room without walking by the nurses station. No such luck. I had an older resident compliment my purse (thanks, by the way, lady!) on my way to my friend's room. Of course, there were several people sitting at the nurses station, and although I was trying to cover my oozing face, they noticed. LOL. Damn giggles.

Nurse Jennifer took care of me. She asked me if I knew my name, where I was and what day it was. I felt so proud! I knew them all! I was secretly hoping for a sticker, but once again, no such luck.

So, to make a longer story a bit shorter, I went back to my friend's room, my husband & kids picked me up (I wasn't sure if I should drive, because although I wasn't drunk, I'm pretty darn sure I couldn't pass any cop tests.. you know, walk & turn, HGN, etc. I'm not even sure I could do those things on my best non-drunk day), and we came home. My mother, husband and best friend informed me I should go to the hospital. I refused. That's right. I refused treatment.

So I've had a killer headache for 2 days now. I know I should've went to the hospital, but it was Sunday night, and the thought of sitting at the Marion General ER just didn't sit well with me. I'd take my chances. If I went to the hospital, I'm sure they would've just told me I was dehydrated or I had an upper respiratory infection, and sent me on my way... I said a nice prayer just in case I didn't make it through the night. (Stifling more giggles as we speak.)

Well, I made it.. and still today (Tuesday) I have had a terrible headache all day. So I went to the doctor today, and they informed me they want to scan my cat. How fun! I've never had a cat scan before. I figure it's a couple minutes of quiet, right?! Who cares about the claustrophobia. I get peace! Bring on the machines!

Tonight when I got home, I explained to my babies that I needed quiet time. Mommy's head was pounding. Daddy had been up over 24 hours, and neither one of us had much energy. The kids decided to scream at me louder than usual (or maybe it just felt that way since I feel like my head is full of lead pipes) and Joel decided to play Rock Band. I tried to catch up on my Young & the Restless in the bedroom, but do you think that worked? Heck no! The kids follow me everywhere. I know I sound like a fantastic Mom right now. I love my kids dearly, and I don't know what I'd do without them (okay, so I do... I'd vacation... for a long, long time), but sheesh! Give me a break!

Well, Abbi now has to poop, Aiden is throwing an economy-size package of baby wipes around the living room and Logan is jumping on Aiden. I have to go. Please pray for me... and forgive my cursing. It's a bad habit... but I enjoy it.

Kisses to all. Hope you all are just swell.

Kelly ;)

Mother's Day: Damn It

It's Mother's Day! It's 2:21pm, I'm still in my pajamas (heaven!) and my kids are quietly watching a show (Powerpuff Girls... ugh) before naptime. In all honesty, we all still have our PJ's on. I decided this morning not to do anything today except relax, read, enjoy the babies and do whatever came to mind that did not involve work, other than the necessary diaper-changing for our 2-year old. Since then, I've loaded the washing machine 4 times, the dryer 3 times, I've cooked lunch & I've unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher. I'm sitting here sweating from helping the kids pick up their toys (in conjunction with a very hot house) and I wouldn't have it any other way...

When I became a Mother, I realized how incredibly huge my heart could stretch! I remember the first time I heard each of the babies cry... Abbi and Aiden 4 minutes apart, and Logan exactly 2 years to the day later. There is nothing like those memories. They say never to let your memories be greater than your dreams. I believe that, but I also believe that such memories can never, ever be surpassed.

That brings me to my Quote of the Day:
Sweater, n.: garment worn by child when its mother is feeling chilly. ~Ambrose Bierce

I interpret this quote two ways, and I believe that both are true. Firstly, I believe that it is meant in a literal sense. If we believe it's cool, we automatically grab a jacket, a sweater, etc for our kiddos. Depending on the Mom's OCD level, she may also grab earmuffs, a scarf and snow boots. Hey, it's March, but you never know... it could go from the 60's to snow in 0-60 seconds. I happen to be in Ohio, where this is not far-fetched whatsoever.

I often help the kids get dressed and ready to go, check myself in the mirror by the door (I placed it there intentionally) and realize I forgot to fix my hair. Even more often, I start to walk out the door, only to realize I haven't put on my own shoes. It makes me laugh thinking about it. And a coat or jacket? Forget about it! Rarely do I leave the house in layers. But the kids... that's a completely different story. They are layered up like little onions... Once again, I wouldn't have it any other way. :)

I also interpret the fabulous quote of the day... here's a reminder... Sweater, n.: garment worn by child when its mother is feeling chilly. ~Ambrose Bierce to mean we struggle to protect our children. I, like most Moms I know, do not want their children to hurt... ever. We don't accept that other children are 'just mean'... that does not make it acceptable that they are mean to OUR kids! When we hear a story about a child being beaten, or worse, we automatically put ourselves in the position of the parent, and cannot imagine the deep pain they are feeling. We just want to protect them.

Before our babies were born, I never understood unconditional love fully. In an instant, one single solitary moment, we are taught so much. The more children we have, the more our hearts expand. It is absolutely accurate that we don't have to divide our love between our children... our hearts just swell more and more... and enable us to love each child more and more, unconditionally.

I must close this entry by telling you that my 4-year old daughter said, "damn-it" for the first time today. Although I do drop the occasional 'bad' word (see nearly all previous blog posts.. lol), Joel & I are very careful not to drop those words in front of the kids. Today I realized they are going to hear and learn these words one way or another... it made me a little sad when she said it, but it made me laugh, too... many more bad words to come, I'm sure. My heart will continue to swell, and to hurt, more & more...

Motherhood is so achingly sweet.

Take Me There...

Summer Vacation. The phrase sounds just like a little piece of heaven! My family & I went on vacations each summer when I was a little girl. I've been to many of the states in the US. I remember bits & pieces, but wish I remembered more... Here are some of my accounts from past vacations, which I have touched on in recent posts.


One of my more vivid vacation experiences is when my family went out west when I was around 7 years old. We took a 3-week trip and saw several states. I can clearly remember my dad, while pulling a travel trailer, driving on excruciatingly scary curvy roads. The 'curves' were much more like sharp turns, and most of the time, there were no guard rails to be seen.



I remember Dad having to honk the horn while going around these 'curves' and the horns still honking in my head long after we stopped driving.



I have 2 very clear memories from this trip... the first being absolutely amazing, in my opinion...



We were going around one of those sharp turn-curves I mentioned, and when we looked down, hundreds of feet, there were old cars piled at the bottom of this huge drop. I could not believe it! This was in Arizona. I believe there should be a name for this spot, and it should definitely be a tourist attraction to promote better driving. Those people that sped over the huge cliff learned their lesson... but they learned it a bit too late to change their ways. I like to think that the people survived, but there was no possible way of pulling the cars out of the pile-up hundreds of feet down. This was educational for me, and I still think about it. It was awful and amazing at the same time.



The second memory I enjoy recalling also took place in Arizona and has to do with my father, who can be extremely funny and impulsive! My brother wanted a cactus. He wanted a cactus really bad. My dad finally got so tired of hearing about the cactus, he pulled over on the side of the road in Arizona, walked right out to a small cactus and tried to rip it out of the ground. Dad's hands were covered in spines and I knew, although he had very rough and tough hands from years of work, he had hurt himself. It was an experience... I promise you that! And I still bring it up to my dad! Impulse cacti-picking is not for the weak or faint of heart. :0) We did not come home with a cactus. My poor brother. My poor dad's hands.



Now, I would like to share with you a wonderful memory from a summer vacation with my family when I was in the 4th grade. Our family went to Hocking Hills to camp in Ohio (a couple of hours from home). There were many activities going on at the shelter house, and when we camped, I tended to get involved in the activities taking place, and liked to make lots of friends (and boyfriends)...



I heard through the campground grapevine that there was going to be a singing contest! My love for singing pushed me to enter. I sang "Somewhere out There" from The American Tale. I won! I remember being so excited! My prize consisted of riding on a golf cart to the campground store, and picking out any t-shirt of my choice, on the house! I chose a pink Garfield shirt. I wore it to bed for YEARS! I'm sure it still resides in my parents' attic. I may even see it again one day! I remember Garfield was half gone last time I saw it, from repeated wash & wear. I was extremely proud of that t-shirt!



The following story is my first real vacation memory with my husband... and I still ache to go back:

Last November, my husband and I went to Atlantic City, New Jersey for our 10 year wedding anniversary. It was amazing! We budgeted and planned, and it was 4 days and 3 nights of bliss! Although it hovered between 50 & 60 degrees while we were there, and the sun didn't come out until the last day we were there, it was magical!



Joel, my husband, is very laid back... so laid back that I often get discouraged, because he is perfectly content to sit at home and stick to the routine of life. I am not this way. I like to experience things! To be impulsive (thanks Dad!) and try new, fun things! Vacations have always been on the top of my list of things to do, but Joel has always been nonchalant about vacationing, so I have pretty much let it sit on the back burner, just keeping it warm enough to know that one day I'd fire it up, and we'd finally escape Ohio!



When we started planning our trip, I was so extrmely excited! Joel didn't seem so excited. He had never seen the ocean. That shocked me! I couldn't wait to show it to him, and although he was not doing cartwheels at the thought of seeing a hugely beautiful body of water, I knew he'd be impressed once we got there.



I was right. Joel loved the vacation experience just as much as I did. I remember one night we had returned to our hotel room after walking on the boardwalk, having a homeless man yell at us (and others) to "GO DIE", eating pizza on the beach and checking out the strip of casinos. Once we got back to our room, I washed my face, got ready for bed and settled in. Joel looked at me and said, "you wanna go down to the casino?" I was in heaven! Such a shock for me! Joel was finally doing something on a whim! Atlantic City was bringing out the best in my husband. I liked it! I loved it!



We did a lot of things the 4 days we were there. I was so happy. I missed the kids, but knowing they were safe, I was able to truly enjoy myself and relax... and so was Joel. I can't wait to go back... whether it be Atlantic City or another city... I am looking forward to a WARM trip to the beach!



My dream vacation is to rent a house right on the beach... to watch the kids playing in the sand, building sandcastles and screaming with joy! My husband will write "Joel Loves Kelly" in the sand big enough for passing airplanes to see. I will sit on the beach with my collection of books, my notebook for future blogs, my babies surrounding me and my husband staring out at the ocean, that he once didn't care about, in awe... I want to start making our own vacation memories... ones the kids can laugh about and blog about one day...

I hope to be there soon...

We're All Nuts! Even You!

I often wonder why people do the things they do. I try not to judge... I would be judged infinitely if individuals were judged on the things we do, think and say.

I was at my wonderful Activity Director conference a couple of months ago, and one of the speakers was fabulous! Her name was Kat. Kat spoke about not judging patients at work, and people in general (the conference was for nursing home activity directors... that's me!).

Kat mentioned that she enjoys pajamas from LL Bean, because they look so cute on the models in the catalogs. When she received her own jammies, she put them on, looked in the mirror and decided they did indeed look cute (she's adorable by the way!)... However, after crawling into bed, the pants rode up. She pulled them back down. They rode up again. Pretty soon she was standing in the middle of her bed, ripping off her pants and throwing them directly onto the floor, not taking the time to get out of bed.

Kat asked us what we would think if we walked by a patient's room to find them standing in the middle of their bed, tearing off their pants in a fit of rage. What would you think? Before her speech, I would've thought the patient was insane. During her speech, I realized that she was brilliant!

Kat's speech made me realize how quick we are to categorize people. It's really amazing how things just click. What she was saying was so blatently obvious! I guess this way of thinking is where the saying 'don't judge a book by it's cover' came from. So smart! We people can just be so damn dumb (no offense)!

This brings me to today's story. Mom & I took Abbi out shopping again. Mom & Dad leave on vacation next weekend, and this was our last opportunity to get together. Plus I have been cooped up in the house for a few days, and I was ready to get the hell out!

We had a less-than-lovely dining experience at Max & Erma's. Abbi kept saying her belly hurt (this is drama... not real belly aches) and decided to curl up in a ball and lay down on her chair, while singing loudly for all to hear. As usual, I found the whole situation amusing. Who cares if people think my daughter has issues? She does! She gets them from her mother! So proud... so so proud!

So after our bizarre lunch, we went to Target! I love Target! The shopping experience was fine. Abbi was a bit crotchety, but we dealt. She found a darling purple purse she just HAD to have, so that brightened her spirits a tad. After our shopping excursion, we went to pay. The guy at the register was quite friendly. It was nice! And so unusual! I just don't get pissed at dim-witted cashiers or brainless waiters anymore. It's just the norm. It used to piss me off that I would say hello to the greeters at Walmart and they wouldn't respond! HELLO?!?! Should you be paying me?! You are PAID to GREET! GREET ME! Okay, maybe they irk me a little, but it's just not worth the effort... they aren't going to become nice just because we smile at them. It pisses them off actually... that's part of the reason I say hello! The bigger you smile, the deeper the frown. It's comical.

After we did a little more shopping, we went to Coldstone Creamery. If you have never been, go! It's exceptionally lickable! I've indulged on 3 occasions now, and I have decided it's the best ice cream I've ever had. YUM!

We waited a long time in line. Abbi tried to strike up a conversation with a little boy her age, and his sister, who was probably around 7 or 8. They weren't having it! How rude! I understand not talking to strangers, but Abbi is 4! She didn't know how to take their indifference to her, or their dirty looks. I didn't know how to take them either! Is this how other kids are going to treat the twins when they start preschool this fall? How bad will it be once Logan (2) starts school? I get a little panicky when I think about people being hateful with my kids, and when I actually catch a glimpse of it, boy does it piss me off!

While we were waiting in the very long line (it's worth it people!), Mom & I noticed that the 2 guys working were in slow motion. I have never seen 2 guys make ice cream with their mouths hanging open, stoned out of their minds. These guys were stoned... stoned beyond stoned. WOW! Again, I found this terribly amusing. When Mom placed our order with one of the high guys, he literally stood there for a long while staring at the toppings. Then when he reached for the brownies, it was very much in slo-mo. Mom & I were looking at eachother, while Abbi looked anxiously at the mean kids. I was trying not to laugh, and then I realized high guy wouldn't care. He'd probably laugh with me. Mom had ordered our lickable ice cream in waffle bowls (heaven... I'm tellin' ya!) and 2 hours later (only a slight exaggeration) when high guy was finally done mixing our concoctions, he placed the first one in a regular bowl. Mom politely asked if we could have the other one in a waffle bowl. He asked if she wanted him to put the first one in a waffle bowl. LOL. So, he proceeds to scoop the second concoction into a regular bowl. Mom corrected him. I cracked up... out loud... I laughed at him... with him! As I predicted, he started laughing, too. He was so obviously stoned. It was so unprofessional and so hilarious at the same time. The poor kid needs help... or maybe not... he didn't have a single care in the world. People lined up around the block? Oh, well! He'd get to em when he got to em.

I do wonder why people go to work stoned. I wonder why little kids are so mean to other little kids. I wonder why children like to push other children they don't even know down the slide at the playground, and why the parents don't yell at them. I'm not judging... honestly, I'm not. I just wonder... why, oh, why do people do the crazy things they do?

Bad Dreams, Hot Dreams, Daydreams & Never-ending Dreams...

I started thinking about dreams tonight. I sometimes have dreams so vivid, I wake up in a sweat, thinking they were true! If I have a really good dream ;) I often think of it throughout the day, proving the fact that women think about sex just as much as men do!

I fell asleep at 8pm tonight. I just couldn't make it to bed, so I slept on the couch... all kinked up and uncomfortable, but it was much easier than starting my bedtime ritual (read recent posts for details on this topic). I just ignored it all and went to sleep... nice, distressing, awkward couch sleep.

I woke at 11pm in a daze. I dreamt that I screamed at one of my friends... I screamed at her to the point we would never be friends again. It was real. It felt real. It took me a good 20 minutes to focus enough to realize it really wasn't real. What a dream! And before 11pm, too! I wanted to call my buddy to make sure we truly were still friends. But I didn't. I know now that I will be able to tell her the full, over-the-top story tomorrow and we'll get a good laugh out of it. But tonight it's real.

When I was little I had a recurring dream. I dreamt over and over that my sister and I were playing out in the front yard. Sis was swinging and I was doing cartwheels (God, I loved cartwheels!), and this man in a station wagon (a woody) would pull up and kidnap us. It was a very vivid, chilling dream. I bet I dreamt that same dream 30 times as a child. I never looked into my dream dictionary to see what it meant. By the time I got a dictionary I was onto a new, equally frightening recurring dream...

As a teenager I would dream that I was on a freeway... a never-ending freeway. There were 2 lanes, one going in each direction with a partition. There were no exits. There were absolutely no opportunities to stop. You were forced to drive forever... forever and ever... I still think about that dream occasionally when I'm on a freeway. Thank God for exit ramps and rest stops! They were nowhere to be found in my nightmare. That's a better word for these bad dreams.

I don't normally have recurring dreams anymore. I daydream a lot. I have huge goals... goals I think of frequently and with great expectation. I like to think I've replaced the good with the bad. I've heard several times that anything is possible if you put your mind to it. I tend to agree... although some days I believe it much more than others.

So, I just looked up my recurring childhood and teenhood dreams. Being kidnapped/abducted means you are in fear of something... losing your most familiar surroundings or something close to you. That makes sense. I'm a worrier.

My never-ending road dream signifies anxiety related to "my path"... that also makes sense. I've never been 100% sure of myself or my course. Maybe it's a good sign I don't have that dream anymore!

Driving dreams also suggest a pattern in your sex-life! WOW! I won't comment on that, but WOW! That's a lot of never ending love!

Dreams can affect us in so many ways. Nightmares may stick with us throughout the day, and have an impact on everything we do that day, only to be forgotten the following day. Sweet dreams may put a spark in our step and a smile on our faces for hours or even days! Daydreams can push us forward or hold us back, depending on the subject matter. Ex. Daydreaming you are going to have wild, passionate wall sex with a famous actor may hold you back... but daydreaming about the same type of wall sex with your significant other can push your sex-life to a whole new level!

I think dreams are amazing. They are like little movies in our minds. Some are rated G, family-friendly and generally clean. Some may be PG... there may be some innuendos, but no full-blown bad language or butts hanging out. Many may be rated PG-13, (these days) you may see a butt or a boob. Bunches may be rated R, depending on how dirty-minded you are. Some may be rated NC-17, just like my website.... and I won't go on, but you get my drift...

I will continue to dream... I'm sure of it. Without the dream that I may become an author, I would have never started a blog. Without the dream that I would be able to have children, I truly believe I'd be kidless. Dreams matter... big and small. I choose to dream big!

Kelly:0)

Confession: I sometimes feel like Izzy Stevens when I blog. LOL!

Easter after Easter

I'm so tired tonight. I'd love to post a fabulous blog entry about my fun-filled day (it really was!), but I'm so exhausted I'm gonna cheat my way out, and show you a bunch of pictures from our day.
Today was our "After the Egg has Hatched Egg Hunt" at work.

It was my contribution to the economy this year... cheap candy, cheap eggs & although we were hoping for a cheap bunny suit, we had to pay full price!

Enjoy the photos!

This is me (on the right) with my staff & the darling bunny! To see the bunny's head separately was quite spooky. More like Halloween than Easter. :0)

This is my son Aiden before clobbering the Easter Bunny. Just kidding.


This is Miss Abbigail posing pertifully for the camera. She loved the bunny!

These are my in-laws with the kidlets. Pretty cute picture.


This is me with a box of eggs. Notice my pretty white legs! They stay that shade all year round!


Now, this is me with the Bunny. I loved trying to hide under her ear.


My boys (and a booty)


My friend & assistant Brittany with Abbi. Aren't they the cutest?


Even super-heros like to hunt for eggs!


Logan shaking it! He's our littlest angel...



Yeah, they're pretty cute! What a fun Easter after Easter!
I'll be less lethargic tomorrow peeps!

Amidst This Chaos, We Find Our Happiness

What are your quirks? Can you count them on one hand? If so, you may be one of the few luckiest folks on the planet. You are blessed. You DO NOT have ANY form of OCD. If you do have peculiarities, which take all of your apendages, along with your digits to count , you are incurable, and you may as well suck it up and deal with it. You are a neurotical freak, just like the rest of us!

I find happiness in small, medium and large, extravagant things. If you ask my friends, they will tell you that I really love pretty much everything. I love gifts, I love handwritten letters, I love mail in general, I love girls' night's out... the list could continue until your eyes bulge out of your irrational heads and you are eating paint chips just for fun.

When I'm at home, I enjoy sitting in front of the fire place, taking baths, cuddling with my babies on the couch, watching my husband play his Guitar Hero drums, napping, reading and cleaning like a bat out of hell, but only when I'm in the mood.

I LOVE vacationing, gambling, texting, date nights, a night alone at the house every once in a while... I'm really quite easily amused.

The OCD does not come through in what it is that we do, but how we go about doing it.

For instance, here I sit at 1:42am. I know I still need to take my medicine before bed, brush my teeth, put up the baby gate, check the doors to make sure they're locked, check on the boys and cover them up for the 5th time, check on Abbi and do the cover-up thing again in her room, watch the rest of Grey's Anatomy (because I promised myself some 'Me' time), read a chapter of the fabulous Jackie Collin's book my dear friend Anne loaned me, daydream, worry about money for A MINIMUM of 15 minutes, think about how I DO NOT want to go to work on a saturday, plan my saturday in my head, make a mental list for the store, which I will completely forget within 10 minutes, wonder how I'm going to get caught up on the Bachelor, the Young and the Restless (I'm behind four episodes from this week) AND get the laundry done, and clean the house. Then I'll wonder again if I locked the door, but I won't get up to check this time, because I'm absolutely exhausted. So I'll turn off the light. The baby will toddle in and crawl up in bed with me. He'll smell like pee. I'll be forced to go get a diaper and unzip his sleeper. Why don't they make those damn gowns for 2 year old boys? While I'm up getting the diaper, I'll feel compelled to check the door. Still locked! I'll change Logan. He'll snuggle with me for a maximum of 45 seconds. Back to bed he goes. I will then drift off to sleep, only to awake at 5am to both Logan AND Aiden sharing my bed, rolling around, fighting over pillows and blankets. I'll kick them (not literally. Please don't call APS) out of bed. They'll saunter off to their rooms, screaming, as if I've just told them they will never ride Papa Mike's tractor another day in their lives. I will then fall into a peaceful sleep, with dreams involving a fireman and a big hose, only to be awoken an hour and a half later, just when I'm about to ask what the big hose feels like, to screams coming from the bathroom, along with running water and three children with raisin hands, most-likely from playing in the soapy sink water for the last hour and a half.

Okay, so I strayed from the subject a little there, but if you are a Mother, I'm sure you appreciate the sentiment. My whole point being... I understand that everyone lives a frenzied life, full of ups and downs, and twists and bends, fireman and hoses, and shriveled hands and a soapless house. I make it through each and every day, and enjoy doing it, by finding the fun in every single thing I do. Embrace your life! Hold your quirks close and never, ever let them go. They make you! They are you! You are you because of your eccentricity.

No matter what idiosyncrasy arises, you will always be you. Learn what you love, learn what creates chaos in your life. Learn what to blow off, and then learn what to hold dear.

Life is a million miniscule acts combined into our own little happiness.

More Tomorrow...
Kelly :0)

Mingling with the Skinnies, the Hotties & the Snotties

So last night was my husband's annual awards ceremony. Most of you know that my hubby is a deputy sheriff. He has been a cop for 3 1/2ish years now and I have never felt quite openly received at these events. Joel tells me he feels the same way. I wonder if everyone does...

Anyway, we showed up last night *right on time* with kids in tow... it was a family affair. We would all mingle with the other deputies, wives and children, as well as the sheriff, lieutenants and the many other persons of importance. We would then all eat dinner together and mingle some more, followed by the annual awards ceremony.

During the ceremony, the children would all play in the gym, under the watchful eye of a few dedicated adults while the wives would escape with their brave husbands to watch them win prestigious awards earned throughout the previous year. My husband was expecting to receive the Mother's Against Drunk Driving (MADD) Award this year, as he had pulled over and properly punished the most drunks (or as I like to call them worthless drunk losers) for the year of 2008. Although I felt a bit out of place, as usual, I was glad to be there for him! If nothing else, Joel should at the very least receive a faithful husband award, which was a lot more than most of the other men in his field can say. I am so blessed to have a faithful, cop husband!

I must do a U-turn and tell you that each year I make a huge deal out of what I will wear to this 'casual' event. There is one particular wife that is stunning. She is literally 'make your tongue wag' gorgeous. The guys stare. The girls envy. The husband parades her. The other cops wish they could. She and her husband have several children, and she literally has a completely flawless body, and a perfect face to match. I believe she recently had a boob job, which bring my perfect *10*opinion of her down a quarter of a notch, but she is absolutely, amazingly beautiful. I actually went to school with her, and she was just as pretty then. The guys have always loved her. The girls all love hating her. That's just how it is.

So, anyway... back to my outfit. I knew I wanted to wear something that appeared to be an ensemble I had just grabbed out of the closet. In all honesty, my mother took me shopping two nights before the event. We found incredibly flattering jeans and a complimentary blouse I was completely happy with. It took me about an hour and a half to get ready. I curled my hair carefully, paid extra special attention to my makeup and lubed on the Amber Romance lotion. I felt pretty darn good. I wanted to soak it in, because I knew that as soon as I ran into the hot wife, I would once again feel like a frumpy, uncool, blubbering, red-headed blob.

So Joel mingled with his co-workers (including hot wife and her cop husband... who, did I mention, is not AT ALL hot and very chauvinistic?) while I sat entertaining the children. I encouraged them to go play. They finally did, but less than five minutes later I heard Abbi screaming at the top of her lungs in terror, like she does at home when she can't find a Barbie shoe or one of the boys is playing with her enchanted princess cash register. Hot wife looked over at me and said "Kelly...", as if I hadn't heard the drama coming toward me. "What's wrong Abbi?" I asked as she ran toward me with full-on tears streaming down her face. "I couldn't find you! Where did you go?" Mind you, I had been sitting in the same exact spot the entire 4 minutes and 45 seconds the kids had been playing. This was only the beginning of our drama.

The kids sat through dinner unpredictably calm and well-behaved. I was proud! Joel was talking to his co-workers about his triumph over cigarette smoking. I was even more proud of him! At one point, one of his cop friends asked how Joel had been since he had quit. Without thinking I responded by saying, "he's been a big jerk." The cop friends seemed to think that was humurous, but when I looked down at an older lady sitting further down the table, I realized I had apparently made this statement pretty loudly, because she stared at me in horror. I smiled sweetly at her.

We finished dinner and mingled a little more. I have to tell you.. there really was not much mingling going on on my part. At one point a lieutenant came over to say hello. He started to push back the chair next to mine to sit down, but decided against it. I thought maybe I had a green bean stuck between my two front teeth from dinner. I attempted smiling at him with my mouth closed and immediately cursed myself for not brining my little flosser my best friend Anne had introduced me to. A few minutes later I was tidying the area around me when I looked down at that chair to find a huge glob of mashed potatoes on the edge of it. I started laughing uncontrollably. If anyone had been watching me, they would've though Deputy Thorpe truly had an insane wife. I couldn't quit laughing. That lieutenant hadn't sat down to engage in conversation with me because of a miniature mound of taters!!!I was still laughing when Joel brought in our coats for the awards ceremony. I was happy to oblige him and move on to a more structured environment where we were expected not to talk.

We explained to the kids that we would be back in a few minutes. Abbi started sobbing... again. I explained to her that I needed to go support Daddy and I would be back soon. Soon wasn't good enough. She continued to blubber. I decided to play tough Mommy and told her I WAS going and I'd be back. I started to walk out the door, and I heard her sobbing uncontrollably. I heard a woman ask her what her Mommy's name was. OH MY GOD! Give me a freaking break! So I went back into the gym and played with about thirty children while my kids played happily. I imagined Joel's name being called and him striding to the podium proudly as he graciously accepted his award. But instead of watching that awing moment, I watched children hitting one another on the head with basketballs, falling off stilts, trampling dress-up clothes, tripping over bowling balls, but mainly I watched my children playing on the fact that Mom had stayed to play because they hadn't LET me go with Daddy. I was pissed. I admit it.

To top the whole damn thing off Joel didn't receive an award. They didn't even present a MADD award at all. Joel tells me that at the end of the ceremony, the sheriff said that they had worked hard not to exclude anyone and not to forget any awards, and to speak up if anything was missed. Joel said he thought it would have sounded petty for him to bring up his achievement. Maybe it was a blessing (for Joel) that I wasn't in there. I would have had a very difficult time not speaking up on behalf of my husband.

Speaking of blessings, Joel received a cop Bible for his continued service... something we will need many times throughout the coming year, I'm sure.

On our way home the kids begged me to never attempt to leave them again. I pretended not to hear, as preschool is coming up in a few months. I'm pretty sure they won't allow me to tag along every day.

To my husband...

YOU deserved that MADD award AND the Bible!!!

To my kids... YOU probably saved Mommy from making a complete ass out of herself!!!

To hot wife... YOU have inspired me to put down the cookies and the barbecue chips and to be only 30-40lbs heavier than you next year at the awards banquet, as opposed to 70ish.

Thank you all for your inspiration!