If she were interested

I'm not your average stay-at-home mom. This is me and my random thoughts, rants, and extensive knowledge of bullshit. It's my life, read it.

Hello, Santa?

O.M.G. The spoiled one approached me with a question and it was like a loaded gun.

“Do you have Santa’s phone number?”

“Yeah buddy, I have Santa’s phone number.”

“Can I talk to him?”

“No, that is only for mommies. I have to call Santa and tell him when your being naughty.”

“Well why do you have to call him and tell him, if he is watching me all the time to see if I am being good or bad?”

“Hey buddy, do you want a devil dog?”

How the fuck do I answer to this? He is too smart for his age. How did he compute this all in his mind at his age? And how did the devil dog totally distract him from the conversation if he was able to come up with this conclusion? I am interested in how his mind works.

What a week. So much is going on. Its like I blink and its Thursday already. Friday night was nothing less than amazing. That’s all I will say on that subject. Next week is going to be tricky but I’m pretty sure I can manage. The more of a challenge, the more that I like it. It’s like the thrill of being able to manage just gets me to a whole new high.

I want more.




Marvel. Rarity. Thaumaturgy. Wonder.

I am ready.

Rough couple of days. Horrible week by some means. I found my oldest dog (13 y.o. pitbull) Not moving in the dog mansion. He was alert and his mind was there with just a hint of confusion. I didn’t know what was wrong. I rushed him to the Vet thinking the unthinkable. Was it his time? Couldn’t be… He had a stroke, there was a bloodclot compressing his spinal cord. He was paralyzed. I was given the decision. There was only a 20% chance he was going to survive with treatment. IF he did, he would never be the same again. O.M.G. Worst decision in my life to make. It’s not even my dog! Its my husbands dog, he had him since he was just a pup. How could I make this decision. OF COURSE, the hubbs left the decision up to me. I chose to put him down. They left the room to get the paperwork and the injection. I was sobbing like I was losing my best friend. What can I say? I love the dog! They came back in the room, ready to go. I couldn’t stop staring at the syringe. I CANNOT DO THIS. I changed my mind. Do whatever it takes to save him, if there is a chance, I have to try. He made an AMAZING recovery. The Vets are astonished at his recovery. He is walking again, sometimes even running. Still unstable on his feet at times but HOLY SHIT. He is a miracle. I could never live with my decision if I didn’t at least give him a shot.

It makes me think about my marriage. Is there any hope left? What if I don’t give it that one last chance. Am I giving it a premature death?

He caught a flight the next day to come be with his dog. I understand that. He had just left, we had a rough weekend. It was going to be a rough week with him. I can just see it now. We barely talked all week. He was pissed when I stayed late at work. His demand was “Your finished with work at 2 o’clock. That’s when your done. That’s when you need to come home.” I’m sorry, I seen that as a perfect opportunity for you to spend quality time with the spoiled one.

I just feel like I went through the motions all week. Is it ever going to come to the point when we really need to make a decision? Or will we keep acting like this?

I guess its time to just keep on trucking.

The slacker. My 11 year old. What is his deal? I tried to bribe him with $50 to finish stacking firewood. He did maybe 12 logs and then decided he didn’t want to do it anymore. The money didn’t motivate him either. He is by far from spoiled. Why the hell didn’t he want the money? When I was his age, I would have done anything for $5!! I tried to buy him a new pair of sneakers. He didn’t want a pair. I told him he didn’t have a choice. I wanted him to get a super pair of nikes or new balance. He picked, yet another, pair of DC’s. Only with the exception that he had to get new laces. The ones that they came with were so lame.

It makes me wonder where did he get this lack of motivation? His father and I are so not like that. We are go getters, ball of fire, enthusiastic and get up and go. Did we use up all the motivation and it not get passed down to him? Where is his spark?!?!?!? I think I am going to have to light a fire under his ass.

The spoiled one is sick. We spent the majority of Friday night/ Saturday morning in the Emergency room. Damn kid is going to be the death of me. I swear it. He has asthma, he has a cold. His asthma seems to get out of control when he has a cold. But ALAS! All is well now. Enjoyed the lazy day saturday watching movies and napping in front of the fire with my 2 guys.

I swear they are my life. My love. I wake up each morning just to see them smile. Without them I would be nothing.


I have the courage to look fear in the face and say I don’t care.

The weekend was shit. Hubbs decided to come home for the weekend. He came home Friday afternoon and left early this morning. I think maybe he has finally realized something isn’t quite right. FINALLY. I could be wrong, though. After hearing all his nonsense of “You don’t love me”, “Your so mean to me”, “You don’t love me”, “Your so cold”, I laid it out to him again. We have a troubled marriage, we address our problems but then do nothing to resolve the issues. You sweep it under the rug, with the mindset of out of sight, out of mind. He stared at me like I had 3 heads. He also asked if I was having an affair. I desperately wanted to say yes. Then I felt like “O.M.G. He knows. How does he know? Is it that obvious?” I don’t think it was a genuine question. He would have been shocked as all fuck to learn that I am.

I guess my dilemma is an emotional relationship with another man considered an affair? I know that physical contact is, but I am unsure about the emotional. I have come to have a deep connection with a guy friend. He is also married. We communicate in a way that is pleasing to each other. We bitch and complain about our marriages, console each other when we are down, just lend an ear when someone needs to listen. I would go as far to say that he is my best friend and I love him. I’m not in love with him, but I care deeply for him.

It has been said that “A relationship between a person and someone other than their spouse, or lover, that has an impact on the level of intimacy, emotional distance and overall dynamic balance in the marriage. The role of an affair is to create emotional distance in the marriage.”

Would I say that my “affair” has caused emotional distance between my spouse and I? No, absolutely not. We had this distance before this developed with my friend. I did not intend for this to happen, it just did. He listened to me when I was going through a very rough bump. He did what my husband refused to do. Do I feel guilty about this? Nope.

Research found that men’s extramarital relationships were more sexual and women’s more emotional. For both genders, sexual and emotional extramarital involvement occurred in those with the greatest marital dissatisfaction. Emotionally intimate affairs tend to be more common than sexually intimate affairs. 44% of husbands and 57% of wives indicated that in their affair they had a strong emotional involvement to the other person without intercourse. 

I guess I am not alone in this. I feel that my marriage will forever be in limbo until the hubbs address the issues that I have brought to the table. Sure, he has some issues with me, and they are total fucking nonsense. Ex: I don’t keep my truck clean enough, I don’t have sex with him enough, I don’t worship him enough…. Fucking nonsense. Horseshit. Ridiculousness. Absurd and almost quite comical.

I feel like I am  in a constant state of anxiety. Waiting for the sun before the burn, the thunder before the lightning.


Say Uncle, say uncle!!

How do you know when you have come to a point in your life when you say “enough is enough” or when you can say that you have given it everything you have to give, to the point that you feel like you have nothing else to give? I feel like someone is giving me an Indian burn and I am fucking screaming uncle and they just won’t quit. 

I can tell you that I have given it more than the ol’college try. I have read books, went to counseling, therapy, sought advice. You name it, I have done it. I have exhausted all of my options, explored every choice, given in to every demand and desire with such determination, that I have completely forgotten about myself. What MY likes, needs, wants, desires and decision are. This may sound very selfish and I understand that. But its time for a much needed change. When will this “change” happen?

My marriage vows say “I do take you, to be my lawfully wedded. From this day forward, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do us part. To this I pledge my love, my faithfulness, and my devotion. I will do all that I can to keep our marriage strong and happy and alive with possibilities.

I know the vow I took. I fucking said them. I can guarantee that I have done all that I can to keep this vow. But what happens when the other half isn’t living up to their half of the deal? Then, what?

I know that I am almost not perfect. I will never claim that I am. No one is, you learn from your mistakes and move on. It’s not a simple concept for some to understand.

So where do I begin telling my story? From the beginning of course. The beginning of the end, which was almost 2 years ago. I should have seen the big, red, flashing “WARNING” signs earlier in the relationship but I didn’t. Even the little things. If I was a little bit smarter then, I wouldn’t be here now. I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to be the person it has made me today. I am thankful for that. I truly am.

“Your crazy and you need to see a doctor”. I am not crazy. The way that I feel isn’t irrational. This is how I feel and don’t tell me that I am wrong. Your feelings are not wrong. How could that possibly even be. You cannot help how you feel. You can certainly change how you feel about something but its not like a light switch that just changes on and off.

“You make me feel so unloved.” You cannot take those words, I have already said, and use them as your own. ESPECIALLY if it something silly as me not answering the telephone. I was in the middle of dinner with a girlfriend and I really thought that would have been just a slight bit rude.

“I am the one out of town, answer my calls.” How the fuck does it feel? When I am in the middle of a mental breakdown from I don’t know… maybe the stress of working, raising 2 kids, caring for 2 dogs, doing all the laundry, cooking, cleaning, homework, bathtime, bedtime stories, and the list keeps going, how about you answer my calls? I don’t care if you are having drinks with your guys.

“Your home, I’m not.” I know I am home. Let me remind you of the opportunity that you had to be home. The local job that the office asked you to come home and do? The one that you refused to do? Why did you refuse? Because of a really stupid reason. You missed the opportunity to be home with your family for 4 weeks. All the while, you say how much you hate being out of town, you miss our family, you just want to come home. Shut the fuck up. REALLY. Shut the fuck up.

“I love you.” I love you too. But actions speak louder than words. You can tell me you love me all you want but you need to show it. I can honestly say that I love you but I am not “in love”” with you. It is sad to say that I have fallen out of love with you.

A marriage is about making decisions together. On everything. Yeah, even down to what kind of toilet paper to buy. You don’t get to decide to spend $5,000 on a car that you had in high school, or $4,000 on a snowmobile. If it’s going to be a large purchase that going to significantly effect our bank account. Let’s discuss it. If you want to move out of state, on some ridiculous notion that your starting a new career. Maybe, we should discuss that first and don’t expect me to start packing up the house right away.

Your may be asking, have you told him any of this? I have, multiple times. Many times, many different ways, for almost 2 years. I almost hired a plane to write in in the sky.

This is just the tip of the iceberg. It gets even better… or worse, depending on how you look at it. I’ll keep going. There is so much I need to vent about. I just need to get it all out there before I make a decision. If you think this is wrong, blasting my husband here, then by all means stop fucking reading. Keep in mind, that this is my blog and I will feel free to write whatever I want. That is your decision to stop or keep going.

Look into my eyes….

So, I know it has been quite awhile since I’ve posted. I know how much you’ve missed me. Hopefully, I will be back on track now. Who knew how hard it would be to juggle children, working, chores, etc all by my lonesome?

I have learned so many things about myself these past few months. I could go on and on about how FAB-UH-LUS I really am but why would I do that all in one post? You can just keep reading and find out all about it for yourself.

In my quest to figure out who the “real me” is, I have come across a few things that intrigue me about other people. Why do you try to label or place them in a place? Not like a place, more like a class or a category. There’s a word for that, I just can’t think of it… Why do we feel the need to place someone in a category? Such as “Next door type” of girl (this is not porn, I swear), or “sweet” or STEREOTYPE! Thats the effin word I was looking for… I knew It would come to me!!!! Maybe its not that word but you get the jist of it. BTW: If you know what word I am talking about please tell me… I have a point to this I swear.

Last night I had a girlfriend over for dinner. After we had dinner and chatted it up for awhile, we really started to have some deep conversation. She wanted to know what made me tick, what made me the way that I am. She bombarded me with questions that I was happy to answer. Maybe she could help figure me out. I can barely figure myself out, so why not a little help? This is what we summed up:

1. I have definetly broken the mold. You will never know another person like me.

2. I don’t fit into a stereotype. I have so many characteristics that I don’t seem to fit into just one category. I am perfectly ok with that. I am not your normal person.

3. I am a very strong person. I have over come so many obstacles in my life that have made me the person I am today. I have many more to hurdle over but I will get there, I promised myself that. And I have to be strong for my boys.

4. I am ambitious. I pick a goal and I work pretty damn hard to achieve it. Under no circumstances must I fail. I will succeed in everything and everything that I do. Once I put my mind to it, I am so set on it.

5. I am a self teacher. I can pick up a book or manuel and pretty much teach myself to do anything. I taught myself how to sew, can and preserve food, scrapbook, garden. You name it, I pretty much taught myself to do it. And when I do something like that, I emerse myself totally. I get obsessed with it. I have to know every little thing about it.

6. I can see my flaws and weaknesses and I learn from them. I change them. I see where I have made mistakes and I fix them.

7. I am a giver. I will seriously give you the gloves off my hands in the middle of a fucking blizzard and get frost bite even if you already had a pair of gloves.

We had a really great night talking, we talked about many more things. Especially my marriage. I’ll get into that in tomorrow’s post. I have so much to catch you up on, you have no idea.

To be continued…..

Embrace the rack!

I am dedicating this post to none other than boobs. You might know them as bosoms, cantelopes, hooters, jugs, melons, rack, or tatas, just to name a few.

I will tell you that boobs is what I am lacking in the “womanly” figure. I feel society has told us that a woman should have full, perky, plump breast and that flat chests are unattractive. There are many influences on a woman to have larger breasts. But why does society get to decide what a “womanly” figure is defined as?

I bring this topic up because I am on a mission for some new bras. I have several of the Victoria’s secret “Miraculous” bras. They are guaranteed to make your tatas to look 2 cups sizes bigger. After wearing these bras for a few months, I decided I’m not going to wear them anymore. My problem is finding a pretty bra in my size. This mission will continue.

I have been on a major debate these last few years on plastic surgery. I was so gun-ho on getting bigger ones!! Then I had a “magical revelation” and I didn’t even have my hands down my pants. I’m not going to have plastic surgery. I am going to embrace my tangerines and not go for the melons. I have small boobs… so what? I do wonder if the grass is greener on the other side but who doesn’t? Who’s to say I go to the other side and its hard to maintain the lawn? My BFF has had enhancement surgery and she looks fab-uh-lus!! They look very natural and so great on her. But she also has a list of cons to go along with it. I think I’ll save the money and take a vacation.

Work has been interesting this week. I can’t wait until we get into a routine and finally get it down pat. I feel like I have been really “winging it” this week and I am one for schedules. I like to have a plan. I don’t like when I am not in control.

There has been a secret pact in the office to secretly bury “The bitchness”. This is what we will call the other chic in the office that can’t do her job worth shit. They were going to fire her several times but she always seemed to stay afloat. So we have decided that we are going to bury her with her own bullshit. She was demoted when I came on board and I got her job. I just find lazy and incomplete work that she has done and now its my job to redo it.  She will soon learn that I am the daughter-in-law of the boss and it will only do you harm to fuck with me.

As I was leaving today my F-I-L said to get the spoiled one and come back, he has a few things for me to do. Great… Yesterday it was getting an address off the internet and programming it into a GPS. “I’ll be there in 10 minutes, make sure its ready”. I can only imagine what he needed me to do. Come to find out, he just wanted to show me some pictures of the Jamaica house. It’s almost finished being remodeled and I had to e-mail them to someone. Then call and find out if his Landrover was ready. Really?!? This is what I have to do for the boss when he’s in the office. Hey, I am getting paid an outrageous amount of money to do this bullshit work. So I do it.

I finally left after the spoiled one spilled root-beer soda on a very important file that was on my desk. It was an out of state contractors license renewal. Whoopsie! I will have to redo it tomorrow. When I am asked why I have to redo it, I’ll be sure to remind him that it was his idea to bring the kid back with me. Hahaha!! Put that in your pipe and smoke it pops!!

Miss me much?

Whoa. Pump your brakes!! I feel like we were living in fast forward for a few days.

I had a very enjoyable weekend without the children. I went out dancing with the most fab-uh-lus friends that I have. Really, they are the best. I danced my pants off and i could barely walk the next day. I drank so much, I had to be driven home. The moral of this story is: I may only be 31, but I’m not 21 anymore. 

Even though I was extremely hung over and exhausted, I didn’t want to miss dinner at my In-laws. Why? My sister-in-law was bringing her girlfriend. She has never openly come out to her father, so I thought this was going to be a very interesting dinner. It turned out to be not as dramatic as I thought. We still had a great time with the family. That’s what really matters, right?

Do you really want to hear about our appointment with the dentist? No. Do you want to hear all the silly things I did with my girlfriend from out of town? No. Do you really want to hear how my first day of work was? Why yes you do.

I was on time, I even surprised myself with that one! I can already tell you that I am not going to get along with the other “Assistant” in the office. She’s bitchy and I wanted to slap her at least 3 times in the span of 6 hours that I worked today. Really? She pretty much explained to me that she has barely done any work for the past 3 months and I was going to be the one to catch up on it all. I can see why she was almost fired twice. I work 100 feet from my office. For real. I have walked to into the office many times over the past 3 months to see her chatting and laughing with the other workers. Sitting at her desk and heard her say “I’m bored, I don’t have anything to do”. How about if you actually do the work that you are paid for? Maybe she should stick her hand down her pants and have a “Magical revelation” like I did.

My F-i-l strolled in the office at about noontime and called me into his office 30 minutes later and said “Shut the door”. I was expecting a very serious chat.

F-i-l: “I need you to go down to the deli and get some lunch for me”.

Me: “Really? Let me go grab my job description because I’m pretty sure it doesn’t say anything about getting you lunch.”

F-i-l: “You think your so smart. And hurry up because your on the clock.”

Me: “Well if thats the case, I’m going to take my time.”

This was my first big job?!?!? REALLY?

I wasn’t even gone from the office for an hour and he was calling me.

F-i-l: “You know, if your son can sit over here and play quietly, you could work some more hours.

Me: “He’s 5, he can’t exactly entertain himself. He does need direction.”

F-i-l: “Well he could read a book.”

Me: “He’s 5, he doesn’t know how to read yet.”

F-i-l: “Oh yeah, good point.”

I will leave you with this. The best part of the day was this morning after I had gotten dressed for work. The spoiled one said to me “Momma, you look beautiful for your first day of work. Your shoes are really cute.” He really is a momma’s boy 😉





Honey, where are the children?

What I am about to say, might freak you out a little. So Prepare yourself now and just take a minute before you read on……


I am officially KID-FREE all weekend. 

I know. I know! I’m so fucking giddy!! What am I going to do with myself? Am I actually going to miss them? I’m sure at some point through the weekend, I will. But as of right now, I don’t. Right now I am eating a salad (Because that’s what I like to eat for dinner) and I have a tall ice cold glass of Firefly. Firefly is the best thing since sliced bread. Get ready for this, it’s Sweet Tea flavored Vodka. Oh yes my fellow alcohol lovers. It tastes ever so sweet!! Although it is only 60 proof, you cant even taste the vodka. Who comes up with this shit? A fucking genius! Don’t get me wrong, I’m a Captain and diet Dr. Pepper girl all the way. I’ve even been to Captain Morgan’s place in Jamaica and they even opened the bar just for us. AWESOME. What was your latest triumph while having a little Captain in you?

OK, back to the weekend. What to do, what to do. I’m pretty sure I’ll have to go clean up a drama mess for my sister-in-law tonight, then I’ll get back to the Firefly. Tomorrow, I plan on sleeping late. Depending how much Firefly I drink, just because it goes down ever so sweet you still feel the after effects of consuming too much alcohol, I may mow the lawn. No big thing right? Uh yes, because even though I have this super awesome Toro zero turn mower, It takes 4 hours to mow. I should be up for it, its going to be a beautiful sunny day tomorrow! Saturday night, I am heading out for some fun with my bff’s and I love them dearly! They have been there for me so much during this “tizzy” with my husband. I am forever in their debt. Sunday funday! Dinner with the in-laws and I have a girlfriend coming in from out of town. Its really going to be a great weekend. I’m siked!!

I guess at this point it would be good to inform you that my husband is working out of town. He will be until probably March, he does come home every 3-4 weeks for a long weekend. It’s really tough most of the time but we get by. I mostly feel like a single mom but we manage it somehow. Don’t ask me how cause I don’t know.

I don’t really cook much because of my husband being away. So we pretty much just eat whatever. I mostly let the kids pick, they love it. Last night we ordered out pizza. I actually had to stop myself from eating the last slice of my pie, just so I could say “I didn’t eat the whole thing”. Your thinking, what type of fatty is this chick? Are you picturing me as an 766 lbs woman with greasy hair and a diet coke in each hand? I’m not, I weigh 118 lbs and I’m 5’8″. I have a very high metabolism and I fucking LOVE food.

Well, I’m off to clean up the drama mess. By the way, I got the job. During the chat with my F-I-L, I did inform him that I was expecting special treatment. I mean, I am his daughter-in-law, I should expect something right? I just wanted to lay it out there for him so it didn’t come as a surprise. So I guess I’m no longer a “stay at home mom” I’m a part-time, work while my kid is in school, and then back to married/single motherhood. I’m going to keep up with the blog, as I really enjoy writing. Although I possess absolutely no writing skills whats-so-ever, I’ll keep writing. Just don’t mind run on sentences, or grammar errors, spelling is under control with spell check.

So tune in tomorrow and I’ll tell you how the clean-up went.

Squirrel on Meth

Today, I am a squirrel on Meth. No fucking joke. Maybe it was the 3 cups of coffee, or the Redbull, or the Excedrin that also has caffeine in it. It’s only 11:30 a.m. and I can’t sit still.

I scared the spoiled one this morning with all of my perkiness. You should have seen his face when he was watching me brush my teeth. I’m sure we, as parents, have gotten that look before, you know the “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Look. He was completely puzzled as to why I was dancing while I was brushing. Because I have told him 4,683,902 times he MUST stand at the sink while brushing his teeth.  We were jamming in the car on the way to school to “I’m sexy and I know it” by LMFAO. Well I was jamming, he was getting soooooo pissed. “Momma, stop dancing. You can’t dance. That man is laughing at you. STOP IT!”. It continued until he was yelling and pretty much in tears because I was embarrassing the shit out of him. At least I stopped when we were pulling into the school. I mean, I can’t let his friends see that, can I? Singing and dancing is a common thing in my household. I really suck at both but so fucking what? Its me, love it or hate it. Lumpy hates it. He wouldn’t speak to me for hours after the incident in North Carolina. Let’s just say I got a little tipsy and decided that I was a fab-uh-lus singer and that I could totally do karaoke. In reality it was horrible, I wasn’t but I wont admit that to him.

In conjunction with ADD, I also have OCD. Which I think is a very odd combination to have. For instance, I don’t like my food touching each other on a plate. Its like food segregation.My steak cannot touch the mashed potatoes or the veggies. I’m so anal about it. If I’m eating something like a salad or spaghetti and meatballs and the food is supposed to touch, that’s different and OK.  But only in that scenario. When I am washing dishes, the sponge must go around the plate 7 times. Its fucking weird shit like that, that freaks even me out.

So I thought today, being so full of energy, I would finish organizing my closet. I even color organized the clothes according to the basic color wheel, which is based on primary colors, secondary colors and tertiary colors. Just writing that, I have realized that I might be partially insane. So while organizing the closet I was texting, singing, dancing, facebooking, pondering a separation would be like and writing this post. ADD or multitasking? Neither, I’m fucking that good.

Now it is time for me to bring the fat ass carrot sticks and find out more about this job I’m getting. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, pops!! I have a 10 other projects I will start and not finish I want to do today.

Before I go let me confess my undying love for John. I love you. And you said I wouldn’t do it! Hahaha!!

Your Joking, right?

A recent phone call between Lumpy & I.

Lumpy:Hey you

Me:Uh, hi.. Hey do you know how many pairs of flip-flops I own?

Lumpy: No? Is this a trick question?

Me: No, just answer it.

Lumpy: Why do I care?

Me: Do you even know how much I love my flip flops?!?! I own 14 pairs, by the way.

Lumpy: Uh, ok. I got to go.

Me: Click!

Anyone who knows me, knows how much I LOVE flip-flops. I will let my fat little sausage toes hang out until the snow starts to fall. They are comfortable, slip on easy, come in every color and show off a great pedicure. What else can I say?

The whole point of this post is that Lumpy does not pay attention. I am the utmost amazing person he will ever know in his whole life. When is he going to realize that? Maybe when he receives the separation papers.

Something new I have learned today: October 5th is the most common Birthday, which also happens to be my ex-husbands birthday. This must mean that the most common day for people to have unprotected sex is on New Year’s eve. Thoughts to ponder on this little known fact… How many pregnancies are resulted from a drunken, wild night of sex? What a fabulous thing to share with your partner on none other than Valentines day! Pro-life or Pro-abortion. Everyone has their own opinion on that one. I’m not telling you mine. This is a blog, not a fucking moral debate.

Holy shit. I know Leap Years happen every 4 years but according to  International Earth Rotation and Reference System Service (IERS) there are Leap Seconds. The last one occurred in 2008, so when you waited for the Ball to drop that year, you actually waited another second. More of my random bullshit.

I find myself lately trying to come up with ways to re-use my wedding dress. Alas, I don’t have a daughter to pass it down to, I have 2 very wonderful boys. So, what the hell do I do with it? A few ideas I have come up with so far. Mow the lawn in it. Wear it while doing housework. A skirt under the Christmas tree. A scarecrow. It’s just sitting in a box in the basement, why not put it to good use?

I’m off to build the biggest, most bad ass fort you’ve ever seen in my living room. Yeah, I’m that kind of Mom.

In my eagerness of building the bad ass fort, I forgot to mention how the meeting with my F-I-L went. I prepared myself with a chocolate cream pie and a bag of grapes for my visit. Why did I need to bring Chocolate cream pie with me. You see, I have been doing some major sucking up to my F-I-L by bringing him cookies, cakes, soup, sandwiches, and candy. One day he finally asked why I was sucking up to him so much. I simply informed him that I was saving up all my favors for something really big, like a glass room addition with a heated, in ground swimming pool. (A girl can dream can’t she?) I know your thinking, why the grapes? Well, he started complaining that I bring him treats that aren’t good for him. So, the bag of grapes were for him, the pie was for everyone but him. I know, how douchey , right? To sum it up, he decided to take the day off. WTF?!?!? Was this the same man that was in Jamaica for 10 days? Did he need a vacation because of his vacation? I guess you can do things like that when you own the company. Tomorrow, I’ll bring his fat ass carrot sticks.

Speaking of fathers… My Dad’s Birthday is soon approaching. I’m really stumped on what kind of gift to give him. A little background for ya: I have given my Dad the same pair of pajama pants for 3 years now. I fucking kid you not, the same pair. I have dug them out of his closet and re-gifted the pajamas to him for 3 years. I did tell you he was that stupid. Inside information was given to me that these particular pajamas are missing. I bet my brother has caught on to this scheme and has decided it was his turn to give him the pajamas. Now I have to find another gift that keeps on giving.

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