Wednesday, January 28, 2009

In Local News....

Local News Story of the Day **

All I have to say is, if I'm going out in a blaze of glory, it won't be with a bow and arrow. Stiletto, maybe, but not a bow and arrow.

** A pretty solid reason why you shouldn't fuck with anyone in Texas...most of us carry guns.

Reprimanded by a Pre-School Teacher

So the other morning when I drop BB off at preschool, the teacher pulls me aside and says "I'm a little worried about BB's language." And being the proud mom that I am I'm thinking that his language skills have so far exceeded that of his classmates that they want to go ahead and send him to middle school. Then I realized that would be a ridiculous idea because he is only three and probably couldn't reach the lockers....or defend himself from wedgies. Ahem.

She continues despite the glazed over look on my face, "BB has been using the 'S' word a lot." I said, "um, excuse me? The 'S' word?" Her voice in almost a whisper now, "Yes, he has been using it a lot towards his classmates and we are a bit concerned about it." Knowing damn good and well that BD and I do NOT cuss in front of BB (as shocking as that may seem to you), I am a little more than off put by her accusation. I'm sure she could tell that by the look on my face.

"You see, Mrs. SPM, we have heard him call the other children....stupid...on three separate occasions this week alone." What? Stupid? She has made me 10 minutes late for work so we could discuss at length my three year old saying stupid? Psh! Call me when he starts taking bets on the playground and smoking cigars lady, I don't have time for this non-sense!

Friday, January 23, 2009

It's an Addiction, Sir!!

I smoke. You all know that. It's a gross habit that is almost impossible to quit. Not only that but I have the willpower of Amy Winehouse around crack, so quitting has never been particularly easy for me. BFF smokes too. This makes it even more difficult to quit. Bottom line, I know it's a gross habit, I know it's offensive, and I sure as fuck know it's bad for me. What I don't know is why some self-righteous people feel it is their duty to inform me of everything I just listed.

This wasn't the first time it happened, and I'm certain it won't be the last, but yesterday, BFF and I were outside *gasp* smoking here at work. We were in deep conversation when an old man walks by and slows down when he sees us. "You know if you have to hide in a corner to smoke that it's bad for you!" Astounded, we both turn our heads to him, trying to process what he just said. Without even thinking I shouted, "OMG I had NO IDEA!" BFF stood there still in shock, then a few seconds later the old man said, "You know, I never smoked because my momma wouldn't let me." (PS - I don't think you should still say 'momma' when you're 80.)

BFF's eyes got really wide, then she raised her cigarette, shook it at him and said "IT'S AN ADDICTION, SIR!" I'm sure she added the sir at the end because we're southern and have manners and shit, unlike this asshole. We both walked back to our respective offices, still fuming over what just happened. Then the instant messages started:

Me - "Did that dude just insult our mothers?"

BFF - "That's what I got from it."

Me - "So he was pretty much saying we weren't raised right?!"

BFF - "Well, we weren't raised right...but who the hell is he to judge?!"

Me - "Yeah, smoking is really the least of our problems that resulted from the way we were raised."

Is it just me or was this guy totally out of line? I mean, we weren't smoking near him. We were in the smoking section for pete's sake! And who the fuck is he to judge? I wouldn't go up to an obese person at a restaurant and say, "Do you really need that fried chicken, because you know it's bad for you." Because what aforementioned obese person shoves in their pie hole is really none of my business.

Thursday, January 22, 2009


I am so, so tired right now. It all started around 1am this morning. Baby boy started rolling around and whining a little bit. The whining got progressively louder and more obnoxious. (Yes he sleeps with us, don't judge!) Then the whining turned into full out cries and I thought I should probably stop pretending to sleep and see what is wrong with him. He kept saying that his legs were hurting. Ahh, we've been down this road before. Growing pains.

So I hold him for a little bit and tell him I'll be right back. I look at BD on the way out the room and say, "I know you're not asleep asshole." I take the firt step down the stairs and fall. Right on my tailbone. I only slid down to the first landing so I guess that's the silver lining. I could have rode my ass all the way to the tiled foyer. I finally make it to the kitchen, cursing the day we decided to buy a two story house. I grab two baby tylenol and a sippy with some water and head back upstairs.

I crawl back in bed next to baby boy and give him his medicine and sippy cup. The dog starts crying. For the love of pete! I guess the damn dog needs to go to the bathroom now. At 1:30 in the fucking morning. So I trek my ass downstairs again to let the damn dog out. I did not fall this time. I crawled back into bed and baby boy said "I need to go potty." So I get out of the mf'n bed again and pick him up and bring him to the bathroom. "I don't really need to go anymore." OMG, I almost lost my shit. I put him back in bed. "I don't need to go potty because I already teed in my pants!!" Then he hit me directly on the shin with his sippy cup. I have a lovely blue knot on my leg to show for that.

Oh, but that's not all my friends. I finally woke up after hitting snooze 15 times and hopped in the shower. OF COURSE all the hot water was gone, why wouldn't it be? I probably am developing pneumonia as we speak. So I get dressed and start drying my hair, feeling completely defeated at this point and thinking I should have probably stayed in bed when, the mother fucking dog pukes on my foot. ON MY FOOT!

I am tired, my ass hurts, my shin hurts, and I'm wearing mismatched socks. I seriously feel sorry for the next person that crosses me. And like a good little blogger, I took a picture this morning to document the mood that pretty much consumed all three of us, seen here, on Baby Boy's face...

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

It's a Bag Meme!

I was tagged by super awesome Matter of Fact Mommy (who secretly wishes she lived in Texas, but that's neither here nor there)...

Meme Rules:

1) Post a picture of whatever bag you are carrying as of late. No, you cannot go up to your closet and pull out that cute little purse you used back before you had kids. I want to know what you carried today (or the last time you left the house).

2) I want to know how much it cost:) And this is not to judge, because I’m honestly telling you I was ready to put down some cash; I just got lucky. This is for entertainment purposes only. So spill it. And if there is a story to go along with how you obtained it, I’d love to hear it.

3) Tag some chicks. And link back to this post so people know why the heck you’re showing everyone your diaper bag/non-diaper bag.

Ok, so before I post a picture of the bag I am currently carrying, I would like to explain something. I am not into fashion. Not even a wee little bit. I haven't bought a pair of shoes in over a year, and I've NEVER bought myself a purse. Ever. My mother in law is the complete opposite of me. She is a fashionista that dresses like a hundred times better than me and she is 55 years old. (Sidenote: she totally has the money to dress nice and I don't.) It would be a little embarrassing if I cared. So every Christmas she buys me a new bag. It is either Dooney & Bourke, or my favorite, Coach. Don't hate.

This year, it was a coach hobo shoulder bag:
I love this bag. It is big enough to fit a spare change of clothes in for BB, a spare pull up, a sippy cup, and several monster trucks, not to mention the everyday crap I carry. Here's a list of what's in it now:

Antibacterial Lotion
A prescription for Chantix (kind of ironic isn't it?)
Nasonex for my allergies
A gift certificate for a 1 hour massage (I am sooo using that this week)
A gc for James Avery Jewelers (I'm just too lazy to go to the mall to use it)
Fake Gucci sunglasses (That's what rocks about Houston, you can find fake anything)
Burt's bees lip balm
3 tubes of lip gloss (which is weird because I never wear lip gloss)
A gc to Outback Steakhouse (Like we can ever go to a restaurant that doesn't feature a dancing rodent)
Several unfinished care plans for school

I'm tagging:

Everybody's Working for the Weekend
It's Not Me, It's You (don't get busted this time!)
Erin Jeannine at Crazy Parrot Lady
and Mary

Monday, January 19, 2009

Random Conversations

So we were driving home on Saturday from dropping BB off with my gma. We meet her halfway in a podunk little town that is mostly comprised of cow pastures and an occassional house. This is the conversation that took place between BD and I:

SPM - "wow, look at all that land!"

BD - "It'd be fun to take a four wheeler out there."

SPM - "yeah, until you hit a pot-hole and fly off and break your neck and leave me a widow and your son fatherless."

BD - "How would a pasture have a pot-hole?"

SPM - "I don't know, the cows probably dig them."

BD - "I don't think cows dig."

SPM - "Yes they do, that's why they're always huddled in groups. Stupid."

BD - "So when I see a group of cows they are probably up to no good?"

SPM - "Exactly."

**Passing a huddling of cows at that exact moment**

BD - "It looks like they were just eating to me."

SPM - "That's what they want you to think."

Seeing that reason was going to get him nowhere in this conversation, BD changed the subject.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

The Day Grandma Got a Tattoo

...on her ass.

It all started the first thanksgiving BD and I hosted at our new home. It was shortly after we were married, and baby boy hadn't come along yet. Trust me, this is pertinent information. Let me start off by saying that my gma is not like ordinary gma's. She is the most awesome gma in the entire universe. She is down with hip slang and shares my sense of humor. For example, she calls Pinot Grigio (the wine) penis george. I don't know why and I don't ask but it is damn funny.

So my gma and aunt came to stay with me the night before thanksgiving to help me prepare for the feast. We ordered take out and were preparing stuff for the next day. I opened a bottle of wine. We quickly finished said bottle of wine. It went pretty quick because we were laughing and having a great time. I think we opened another bottle when the topic of tattoos came up. My gma said, "you know, I think I want to get one." I was like "okay, if you want one so bad let me take you to my guy." I completely called her bluff. Then she said, "okay, if you're driving!"

So the three of us piled into my aunts car, and drove half way across town to my tattoo guy. I walk in with two 65 year old women, and we were met with an array of looks. He hugged me and asked if I was there for another and I said, "nope, my gma wants one this time." He shrugged his shoulders and said "sweet! Wish my gma was that cool!"

There was a little bit of a wait so we went to the pool hall next door and ordered a bucket of corona. We were all a teensy bit inebriated by the time it was her turn, so I called big daddy (like the responsible adult I am) and told him we needed a ride home. The conversation went a little something like this:

SPM - "hey big daddy, I need you to come get us."

BD - "where are you guys? There is a turkey in the sink and two empty wine bottles on the table."

SPM - "Yeah, about that...I'm gonna need you to come get us at the tattoo parlor"

BD - "no, seriously, where are y'all?"

SPM - "We are seriously at the tattoo place, can you please just come get us."

BD - "Are you getting another tattoo? With your grandmother?!"

SPM - *giggle* "Not exactly, just come up here"

BD - "Well what the...never mind, I'll be there in twenty"

Big Daddy has learned not to ask too many questions in situations like this.

Meanwhile, Gma picked out a cross tattoo just like the one I have on my right ass cheek. Plus she is a really devout catholic, so I'm sure that had something to do with it. I know, stop laughing. She decided she wanted it on her ass too. So we went to the back and she dropped trou. I still couldn't believe what was happening. She was a freaking trooper. She didn't even grimace! I don't know if it was the wine or her pain tolerance level, but when I got mine I was squirming like a baby.

In walks Big Daddy as he sees my gma getting a tattoo....on her ass. I can't even put into words the look that was on his face. I was all "take a pic of it on your camera and send it to gpa." He's like "the fuck I am! I don't want him to be pissed at me." He ended up doing it because I threatened to withhold the vagina for two weeks. He sent the picture with a message that just said "They made me do it."

Our tattoos look similiar to this, but with color:

Driving home, BD looked at us and said, "never in my life did I think I would be the designated driver for you three."

The next day gpa had a conversation with big daddy about "keeping the ladies under control" or something. I think he secretly likes the tattoo.

And that, my friends, is a thanksgiving I will never forget.

Google and the Freaks That Use It

This is the post where I let google do the writing for me. Without further ado, google searches that led people to my blog:

Flu - no thanks, I've more than filled my flu quota for the year.

pregnant using seasonique - I don't think you're using it right. Mass hemorrhaging maybe, but not pregnancy.

seasonique + awful - welcome, you've come to the right place.

titskies - I swear to God I have never in my life used the word titskies. I do own a pair though.

south texas carnies - four words for you, google searcher...!

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Wordless Wednesday

There was a cherub in my bed this weekend...

Monday, January 12, 2009

Cartoons That Torture Me

Like most children his age, Baby Boy loves his cartoons. I feel guilty plopping him down in front of the TV, but I'm so busy lately that I have no choice. If I didn't occasionally do this we wouldn't have dinner, clean laundry, and a mom that showers.

I've compiled a list of his favorite cartoons, and an explanation of each in case you don't have a three year old at home. Let's just say, cartoons have changed a lot since I was a kid. Whatever happened to the Flintstones and Smurfs?

1. Wow-Wow Wubbzy - an unidentifiable creature that says "wow-wow" before every sentence. And yes, it is as annoying as you think it is. I just recently figured out that Wubbzy was a he. He also says stuff like bally-ball, kickety-kick, and bakety-bake. It makes me want to stickety-stick a forkety-fork in my eye.

2. Spongebob Squarepants - a yellow sea sponge (but looks more like a kitchen sponge?) that resides in Bikini Bottom. He lives in a pineapple, works as a fry cook at the Krusty Krab making Krabby Patties, and has a pet snail named Gary. Overall, he's not a bad guy except for his incessant fingernails-on-a-chalkboard laugh. Oh, and he wears tighty whiteys.

3. Yo Gabba Gabba - This is the kind of stuff that haunts my nightmares. Look at that freak show in the orange hat. His name is DJ Lance Rock. Rock is the last thing I want to do when this guy is on the TV. It's like a show straight out of the 70's with its retro music and psychedelic special effects. The characters names are Muno, Foofa, Brobee, Toodie, and Plex. This show was definitely created when someone was on a bad acid trip.

4. Ni Hao, Kai Lan - This is a cartoon about a Chinese girl and her animal friends. She speaks in half English and half mandarin. Like my kid isn't confused enough by English and Spanish. We live in Texas for fuck's sake. And by the way, I'm slightly disturbed by the ratio of her head and body size, not to mention how freakishly far apart her eyes are. When she wakes the sun up she tickles him, and then says "ohhh, sun fuzzies!" So I tried that with BB the other morning and he looked at me with a grimace and said "you know mommy, the sun doesn't really talk." Well excuse me person-that-has-been-on-this-earth a mere 38 months!

5. Max & Ruby - Max and Ruby are brother and sister that live alone...I have no idea what happened to their parents. Max is the small one. This little bastard has taught my son to revert back to baby talk to get what he wants, and then subsequently throw a huge tantrum when I don't respond. Thanks Nickelodeon.

6. Dora the Explorer - Hey, Nickelodeon, Dora and explorer don't rhyme. Dora speaks in half Spanish and half English, which is cool until BB starts speaking to me in Spanish and I have no idea what the hell he is talking about. Then he looks at me like I'm the dumbass. And whoever is the fashion coordinator on this show should be fired. Pink shirt, orange shorts, and yellow socks? WTF?

Thursday, January 8, 2009

They Just Keep Coming...

The bad days that is. I had a really bad night at school. I am not going into that right now because it gives me a headache just thinking about it. So this morning I get baby boy all ready for pre-school. I'm proud of the fact that I'm not running late for once. I pull into the school and get BB out of his carseat when I notice....that he is not wearing shoes. What kind of a mother forgets to put shoes on their child?! WTF is wrong with me? So of course when we walk in BB shouts, "My mommy forgot my shoes!! HAHAHA!!!" Nice.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

At Least I Still Have a Job

This week has been pretty craptastic to say the least. First, the stopping smoking thing has not really been working out for me. Mainly because I didn't stop smoking, and that puts a hinder on quitting. Well that's not actually true. I did stop. For 5 days. And I turned into such a mean and nasty person that BD actually stopped the car and bought me some smokes. So apparently, he would rather be married to someone with lung cancer than someone that is a raving lunatic and/or huge bitch.

Then on Monday, I was in such a bad mood, and my boss completely pushed me over the proverbial edge. There was a box in my office when I came back from lunch. Then she walked in, and the conversation went a little something like this:

Boss - "Why haven't you sent these books out, they're a month overdue"
SPM - "Dude, today is the first time I've even seen said box."
Boss - "This box has been sitting in my office for a month! It should have been done!"
SPM - "Well, if it's been in your office, how am I supposed to know about it?"
Boss - "You open my mail don't you? You should have opened the box!"
SPM - "That doesn't even make sense!"

So then she stomps out and I begrudgingly get the labels made and envelopes to send out these stupid journals. I walk over and open the box and it is not.even.books. It is stuff she left at the hotel on her last business trip. I was livid. I drug that damn box back into her office, stood up, put my hands on my hips. And then I verbally bitch slapped her.

"Next time you want to yell at me about something not being done, make sure you open the damn box first!!!"

So yeah. Then we had an hour and a half meeting about respect or something. And she took away my 4 day-10 hour work schedule. Do you know what that means? It means I have to work fucking Fridays again. GAH! So basically my new year's resolution has come back to bite me in the ass. I will never make another resolution. Mark my words!

Monday, January 5, 2009

Honest Scrap Award

I got tagged by Matter of Fact Mommy for the Honest Scrap Award. I have to list ten things about myself that are, I'm guessing, honest? Sooo, I will do my best. Try not to laugh too hard.

1. I have four tattoos. Two of them have special meaning, one of them was rebellious, and one of them is the same as the one on my gma's ass. I'll tell you that story later.

2. On my 24th birthday I pierced my girly place. Don't believe them when they tell you it doesn't hurt. I screamed curse words I didn't even know I knew. The piercing came out the day I gave birth to baby boy.

3. I have been in college since 1998. My parents call me a career student. I just call me indecisive with an insatiable appetite for learning.

4. I'm infertile. At 28 years old I know that I will never have another child. Ever. It makes me cherish baby boy, and has turned me into a neurotic, super over protective mother. BFF can totally atest to this.

5. I love nursing. Absolutely LOVE it. I can't believe people get paid to do it. I'm a nurturer, and I love taking care of people in general, so this is definitely my calling in life.

6. I have a serious, debilitating phobia of clowns and people wearing masks. Even typing the c word out gives me the chills. This one time in Vegas one of them came out of nowhere in the casino and was all up in my face and I punched him. I left big daddy there to apologize while I hyperventilated in the bathroom.

7. I met BD at a keg during a frat party my first year of college. Romantic, eh?

8. My father passed away 7 years ago from a massive heart attack. He was 37 years old.

9. My grandmother is the most amazing human being I have ever known. She is pretty close to being a saint in my book.

10. Every woman in my family has huge boobs.

I'm going to tag:

Amber D at Everybody's Working for the Weekend
I Need a Martini Mom
Crystal at It's Not Me, It's You
Leslie at Stethoscopes and Stilettos

An Open Letter to My Cold/Flu/Pneumonia

Dear Cold/Flu/Pneumonia,

I know you have happily resided in my sinus/head/lung region for oh, I don't know, about two weeks now. This is your notice of eviction, bitch. You have completely worn out your welcome in this host. Don't you think it's time to go torment someone else? Get a new, fresh set of lungs? Mine are pretty much on their death bed right about now. I've been hacking up stuff that is unrecognizable to me at this point. And I'm practically a nurse, so that's pretty scary. When I breathe in and out I'm wheezing like a fat asthmatic kid that just ran a half lap with a coach screaming in his face. Surely this is not a good sign. I tried to look up wheezing in my nursing book last night but then I started coughing so hard that my eyes started watering and then I couldn't even see to read anything. So thanks, mucus, thanks for making me sick and blind. Wheezing could mean that I'll be dead in three days, but I'll never know now.

Sneezy McCoughy

I spoke to my mom last night and she's all "Oh my God, are you sick again?!" And I'm all, "NO MOM, it's the same DAMN COLD!" And then she's all, "So then you're going to the doctor tomorrow, right?" And I'm all, "No, I'm going to a little thing called work." And then she's like "I think you mean to say no ma'am." (Then I silently cursed the fact that I still get in trouble for not saying ma'am to her). Then came the "Do you need me to call your boss?" And then I hung up on her. I love my mom.