Apparently Not A Breakfast For My Little Champion

Good morning, blogosphere. Well, wait. Let me rephrase. Morning, blogosphere. There. That’s much better. It is morning, but it certainly hasn’t started out good. Though not horrible, so maybe the good can stay. Wow. I’m full scale babble already today, aren’t I? Let me explain why I am here at this early hour (and yes, I realize that it isn’t actually that early, and by the time I get this posted, it will be even later, but for a Sunday morning following a Saturday night bedtime of 2 am, it is ungodly early for me), drinking my chocolate creamer coffee and writing, instead of blissfully snuggled in my bed.

 

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My four year old (whom I still do not have a nickname to use for him here, what the hell is wrong with me that I can’t come up with a nickname that illustrates some of his personality?!) gets up pretty early in the morning (by my standards) about 99% of the time. When he goes to bed at his regular bedtime, I can pretty much count on him being awake by 6:30. When he stays up until his later, summer bedtime, he usually won’t sleep past 7:15. So, like clockwork, he was in my bedroom at 7:05 today. Now a year ago, that would have been pretty brutal having just gone to bed at 2 am. But now that he’s older, I’m working out a system so that even if he won’t sleep in, I can be a night owl and still get close to the amount of sleep I need. Apparently there are some kinks in the system that need to be worked out.

 

Anyway, 7:05 arrives and he is in my room, which immediately tells my dog he needs to get up too because it must be time for breakfast. He’s got an internal meal clock that is infallible too. He knows exactly when his meal times are and will start whining one hour before said meal time, causing me to lose my mind listening to the whining. But, I’ve gone off track again. (I know. Shocker.) Back to 7:05. The little one is awake, the dog is ready to eat, so I stumble my way out to the living room (opening my eyes as little as possible to avoid the light from forcing my brain to wake up), turn on the TV while he turns on the Xbox so he can play his game (probably not winning any mother of the year awards, but when a girl’s gotta sleep, a girl’s gotta sleep). While this is going on, my dog is doing his version of a happy dance around my feet. I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned it before, but my dog is a miniature dachshund, aka little weiner dog, so he’s fragile. Those long backs can get injured easily and his happy dance has me slightly concerned that I’m going to trip and fall on him. Which I’m fairly sure would jack up his back. But we manage to get the TV on and switched to the Xbox input without incident. Then I head to the kitchen with the dog racing ahead of me, where he proudly parks his ass down on the rug by his bowls. I open the cupboard and refrigerator, pulling out Cheerios and orange juice. And no, that is not for the dog, which I’m sure you figured out, but left him wondering what the fuck I was doing. Which is strange because we go through this same routine everyday.

 

I poured some cereal in a bowl and some orange juice in a cup and put it on the table for the little one. Unfortunately, it was not yet time for the dog’s breakfast, so he was left sitting by his bowl while I kissed little one’s head, told him his breakfast was on the table for him, and puttered back to bed. I climb back under the sheet, put the dark sock I keep on my nightstand over my eyes (I really need one of those sleep masks, but this works), and fall back asleep. Jump ahead to 7:40. Little one is calling for me so I yank my sock off my eyes and go to see what he needs. (And to put the dog’s food out since it is finally time for his breakfast. We’re smart and have his bowl made the night before so all we, I mean I, have to do is take it out of the fridge and give it to him. He’s on a strict diet of dog food and pumpkin and it’s a real pain in the ass to try to put that together when you’re trying to sleep while standing.) He is sitting at the table and asks if we had any more “bendy” straws for his juice. I tell him no. He asks if I forgot to buy more and I say yes. Which, technically, is a lie because I said when the last box was getting low that I wasn’t going to buy any more straws. He said he would use the other straw (one of those that came with a big water bottle), but I told him it was in the dishwasher and that he would just have to drink his juice like a big boy. And I head back to bed.

 

7:43. Yes. Three minutes later. I’m not even making that up. Little one is calling for me again. I yell from my bed to try and figure out what he needs this time and if I really need to get up to take care of it. (I’m sure Hubby was just pleased as punch that I was yelling six inches from his head, but I say tough cookies to that.) Little one wasn’t giving me any indication of why he needed me, but was still calling for me, so I again climb out of bed. And now I’m really starting to get grumpy because getting called out of bed two extra times is not part of the system. I knew he wasn't hurt because he didn’t have that tone in his voice. It was just his regular, ‘I need something, so come take care of it’ tone. I get to the dining room and see him frantically mopping up the table with some napkins. (God bless his little soul for trying to clean up the mess!) I asked if he spilled his juice and he said yes. So I grab some more napkins and start soaking up the juice on the table. Then I glance down and see a puddle, yes a puddle, of orange juice under his chair. I think I made some kind of noise resembling an ‘oh no!’ sound, but it’s all a little bit blurry. I run to the kitchen grab a washcloth, wet it, and run back to start soaking up the juice on the floor. (Why I wet it, I’m not really sure because clearly something that is already wet is not going to have as much absorption as something that’s dry, but my brain was still not clicking yet. I think I figured since it was juice it would be sticky so I’d need to wet it down to clean it. I guess I forgot about the whole 'having to get it off the carpet first’ part.) As I’m trying to soak up the juice on the floor, I see that he is sitting in a puddle on his chair. There is juice all over the place. His shirt is wet, his arm is soaked, legs, feet, underwear, everything. There is literally 7 ounces of juice on him, the table, his chair, and the floor. Awesome. I grab another towel (dry this time, because I realize I’m an idiot for trying to use a wet one) and start soaking up the juice on his chair so I can get him off of it without dripping. He stands up on the chair and proceeds to stick his toes in the puddle of juice and swirl it around like it’s a freaking rain puddle! I yell at him to stop doing that, get it all soaked up and him dried off, and haul him into the bathtub. After his bath, I finished cleaning things up in the dining room.

 

While all of this is going on, I’m asking him how it happened that he managed to spill his entire cup of juice. Have you ever tried interrogating a four year old? I bet even the most seasoned detective or FBI agent would crack before getting a real answer out of him. The best thing I got was, “It just didn’t work.” Well, no shit, Sherlock. The juice all over my carpet is evidence of that. I still don’t know exactly how he managed to dump all that juice.

 

But I do know one thing.

 

I’m buying more straws.

Fried.

This week has been killer at work. I’ve been doing all my regular ad scheduling, data gathering, spreadsheet inputting, marketing analysis stuff, but I’ve also been proofreading a book (the second of three) and listening to an interview (of sorts) while transcribing certain points of this interview. I’m classified as a part-time employee, but these past two weeks I may as well have been full-time. To say that my brain is mush, would be putting it mildly. My fingers won’t follow my brain’s commands and my brain feels like it’s fighting to run through molasses. I should have this sign on my desk.

 

 

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P.S. Even trying to find a sign was a struggle for my brain. So I just made one. Not nearly as funny as a real one, but it gets the idea across.

 

So given the fact that I can’t string together enough cohesive thoughts to make a whole post, I’ll just give you a few little tidbits that are jumping around in this skull of mine.

 

1. In the last five days, I think I’ve gotten about 26 hours of sleep. The person/animal that wakes me up tomorrow morning had better be severely injured or else they are going to be face to face with a very grouchy mama. Oh who am I kidding? There’s no way in hell I’m going to be able to sleep in. Between my dog and my four year old, I can kiss any hope of sleeping in goodbye.
2. I’m really fucking hungry but I can’t find a single thing that sounds even remotely good to eat. And I just went grocery shopping last night. I hate when that happens.
3. I bought some new hair clips at the store last night. Kind of like those butterfly clips, but with a slightly different shape and the words “Will not slip” on the cardboard. This is important to me because my hair is pretty fine and is constantly falling out of anything I try to put in it. I twisted my hair up onto the back of my head this morning, put a clip in, and completely forgot it was there! It’s fucking amazing to me that this clip has stayed in place for like 12 hours! Unheard of!
4. My daughter got a hamster for her 11th birthday last year. (I thought it was a bad idea given all the other animals we have in this house. And I did not want to end up being the one that cleaned it’s cage.) Tuesday, she noticed something on her little rat’s hamster’s face and she wanted to clean it off. Pretty soon she came running out of her room because whatever it was, was not coming off. She started freaking out – crying and generally being hysterical - because she didn’t know what was wrong with it. After some close examination on the part of Hubby and Drama Queen, they came to the conclusion it might be a tooth. (Did I mention I didn’t want the thing?) I looked it up online and sure enough, hamster’s teeth have been known to become over grown and puncture their cheek. All that needs to be done is for the tooth to be trimmed back to it’s normal size. Hubby called the vet the next morning and made plans to take her in Thursday morning to have it taken care of. All day Drama Queen was stewing around worried about what was happening. Thursday afternoon the vet called Hubby back and asked that he come in to talk about what needed to be done before they did anything. Not. A. Good. Sign. (Have I said that I thought getting this thing would be a bad idea?) Hubby and Drama Queen left to go see what was up. Drama Queen was only allowed to go if she promised to stay in the truck. Not too long later, the three of them were home. Protruding tooth and all. Hubby said it was going to be over $150 for the “surgery” to trim the tooth (which had become so overgrown that it actually started to curl because her lower tooth had fallen out and it had nothing to grind against to keep it naturally trim) and then we would have to keep bringing her back every so often to get it trimmed. At a price tag of more than $60 a pop. (Oh dear God, did I not say that we shouldn’t have let her get the damn thing?!) Hubby said thanks but no thanks, paid the $60+ dollars for them to do nothing but grace us with their presence, and brought her home. After a couple calls, he found another clinic that would do it for less, though not as little as I would have liked. It was farther away, but they made the trip this morning and the little rodent got her tooth trimmed. Apparently one of the vet assistants (are they called nurses, too?") said this was the worst overgrown hamster tooth she’d ever seen. (Joy. We’re the worst hamster owners ever. Maybe I should have been a little less vehement about not wanting the thing. Now I feel guilty) They even got to bring it home to show the rest of us. I was going to take a picture of it, but now I can’t find the pill bottle it was put in. I’m slightly disturbed that this tooth has suddenly gone missing. I just pray that Hubby threw it away and that Drama Queen didn’t sneak off with it somewhere. Though I suppose we should frame the damn thing since it cost us about $120!

 

Well, I’m going to have to leave it at that because, well because Drama Queen has been sitting here in the living room with me watching the Olympics and she won’t stop talking, and I can’t hear myself think. Add that to my already addled brain and you have a very unstable situation. And toss in some beer (can you see me smiling?) and who knows what could come out of my mouth. Or I guess my fingers in this case. Until next time.

The Meeting – Part One

She watched as he walked closer towards her; hardly able to believe her eyes. It had been years, though it felt like centuries, since they had been in the same room together. She took a breath to calm her nerves, but it just sort of hitched in her chest and did nothing to slow her racing pulse.

 

“Oh God, don’t let him see how nervous I am,” she thought as he flashed his perfect smile and kept his bright blue eyes locked on hers. She returned the smile, trying to act more confident than she felt. Knowing that her uncertainty would give her away, she lowered her eyes and reached up to play with an earring, her hair tumbling down to frame one side of her face.

 

With a soft, shy, half smile on her face, she met his gaze again; just as he closed the distance between them. Pushing her hair back in a haphazard manner, she laughed – a low, throaty kind of laugh.

 

“Hey stranger.”

 

The dim light made her hair almost glow as the light danced off the browns and golds, and the urge to rake his fingers through it wrapped itself around him. The sound of her voice was like a shock to his system. Just two simple words and he was again mesmerized by her. But in a different way this time. The years had changed them both and their recent conversations had changed the way he thought of her, how he felt about her. They had always had something, but now it was more. Like she had slowly seeped through his system and with one look, one sentence, had latched on to his heart.

 

Feeling the seconds tick by, he finally responded, “I’m glad to see you here.”

 

She lifted her shoulder to shrug, hoping to appear relaxed and aloof while praying that her pounding heart couldn’t be heard above the music and the din of the people surrounding them. “I needed a break. Something to bring the stress levels down.”

 

She glanced past him to assure herself that he had come alone or that he wasn’t planning on running off to meet someone else. Not seeing any likely candidates, she slid further into her booth, moving along the rounded seat until she was more behind the table. She motioned with a jerk of her chin toward the now unoccupied seat. “Wanna sit?”

 

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The movement of her shoulder broke the spell that held his eyes on her face. He finally was able to take in the rest of her; noticing her bare shoulder, with just a hint of a tan. His gaze roamed down the length of her arm, taking in the smallness of it, but also the definition that had never been there before. With an appreciating nod, he sat and shifted in the booth so that he could face her. He continued his study of her features as if to memorize them. She was dressed simply, but smart. He wondered if she had come straight from the office or if she had stopped at home to change. He tried to picture what she was like at home; what her home was even like. Was it clutter free and as sophisticated as her appearance? Or did she leave a trail of clothes as she changed. He grinned at the thought and almost hoped for the trail. Her hair was long and silky; her ears had simple dangles hanging from the lobe. His eyes traced the length of her neck. Oh God, her neck. He could practically taste her skin there, could almost feel the chain she was wearing scrape against his tongue. He felt a twitch as his lower regions became aware of her body and oxygen suddenly became a rare commodity.

 

He inwardly cringed when he thought of his own appearance. His jeans were worn and fraying at the bottoms. His t-shirt loudly proclaimed his continual love of ‘90’s music. “Damn good thing I thought to throw on the button-down,” he thought, glancing at the sleeves that were rolled halfway up to his elbow. He almost reached to button the shirt closed, but decided it wouldn’t cover up the fact that he was far less refined than she had become.

 

She fiddled with the straw in her drink – randomly swirling and stabbing the ice, unsure of what to say next and completely unaware of the thorough regard he was giving her. The years loomed between them, as did the broken heart that she worked so hard to mend. The waitress took that moment to notice his arrival, swooping in with her own flirtatious smile to see what she could get him.

 

Taking only a moment to peel his eyes away from the skin he was already dying to touch, he glanced at the waitress and asked for his drink. Quickly turning back, he saw a glimpse of surprise in her eyes before she quirked an eyebrow and smirked at him. Drawing his brows in for an instant, he leaned over and whispered, “Did I order the wrong thing?”

 

Giggling, she glanced up and saw the waitress’ eager expression. Then she whispered back, “No, but I think she wants you to say something more than that.” She looked up again at the waitress, who was still standing in front of their table, now with a less than certain look on her face.

 

“Oh,” he said, straightening up again and turning toward the waitress. “That’s all I need. Unless you want another.” He pointed at the glass already on the table.

 

“No, no. I’m good, thanks.” She smiled politely at the waitress just as she walked away.

 

“So what was that look you gave me all about?”

 

“I think she expected you to check her out. She is a pretty thing. And she was clearly flirting with you.”

 

“Nah! You’re crazy!”

 

“Oh please. You know she was flirting with you! You are too good at this game not to know when a girl is flirting with you. She clearly was waiting for you to check her out. And probably hoping to hook up with you.”

 

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that ‘game’ comment.” He paused at her snort. “And exactly why would I check her out?” He laughed, watching her sputter with complete enjoyment, pleased they had moved past the awkward, uncomfortable phase. Finally they were talking like they had just the other night. Like old friends; teasing and laughing with each other.

 

“Because that’s what you do! What you’ve always done! You see a pretty girl and you figure out a way to get with her. If she isn’t already fawning all over you. Which, I might add, is at least a good 50 percent of the time. It’s a God-given talent. You wouldn’t have been blessed with your looks and your charm to not use it to pick up women. It goes against the law of nature or something.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have no reason to look at other women.” He gave her a very pointed look.

 

About to counter with a sharp retort, she snapped her mouth closed, momentarily stunned. Recovering quickly, she replied softly, “But you always did.”

 

He sighed and slid himself a couple inches closer to her. Resting his hands on the table near hers, he softly ran his fingertip along her thumb. “I’m sorry. I was a stupid kid who didn’t know what I had while I had it.”

 

Her breath stuck in her throat at his touch. Closing her eyes briefly, she pulled in a breath of air while pulling her hands down into her lap. “You always did know the right thing to say.”

 

He opened his mouth to reply, but she held up a hand to stop him from speaking. “It’s okay. I forgive you. I did a long time ago. We were both stupid kids.” Pasting a bright smile on her face, she sat up straighter. “But we’re grown up now. It’s all ‘go as far and as high as the road will take us,’ right?” She twisted her fingers together in her lap, silently begging the waitress to return and put a halt to this conversation. “I’m a big girl now and I think I’m doing pretty okay. There’s no need for apologies.”

 

Not at all pleased with the direction this was going, he stared at her face, trying to find the right words to say. “I’ve never known just what to say and I’ve never been sure of myself. I…” He stopped as the waitress set his glass in front of him. “Thank you.” He looked up and sure enough, he could see the little glimmer of hope in her eye that matched her broad smile. Nodding at her ‘just let me know if you need anything else’ speech, he took a grateful swallow of his beer.

 

“Can we stop talking about the waitress now? That is the last thing I want to talk about right now.” He scrubbed his hand over his face, silently asking himself, “Christ, will I ever understand women?”

 

She could see the exasperation written all over his face, so she shifted back to her usual, reserved self. “You’re right. There’s no reason for me to rake you over the coals for things that happened more than ten years ago. If I didn’t then, I shouldn’t now. Plus, if I’m being totally honest with myself, there really wasn’t anything definitive tying you to me anyway. Other than the occasional sex of course, but I should have known that didn’t mean ‘relationship.’” She curled her fingers in the air to emphasize the word. “But, Jesus, I’m just rambling now. You wanted to talk about something else. What do you want to talk about?”

 

He scooted even closer, until his thigh was nearly touching hers. He was close enough to feel the warmth of her body; could smell the faint perfume of her shampoo. But he still wanted more. He leaned down and pushed his nose through the curtain of her hair until he barely touched the skin under her ear. He inhaled deeply and spoke low, “Whatever you want to talk about.”

 

Her stomach flipped and her mind went blank at the sensation of his breath on her neck. She closed her eyes and tipped her head slightly to the side, consumed by the desire flooding her body. Trying to piece together a coherent thought, she stuttered, “Um…well, uh…work! Work is a…” He brushed his lips across her skin, causing her nipples to tighten and goose bumps to run down her legs.

 

He reached across his lap and ran his hand along her thigh until his fingertips rested on the inside of her thigh. His body seemed to pulse – every nerve ending was firing on all cylinders. How he could have thought any of the other women were enough was a mystery to him. This night – with this woman – was igniting something that had never before been lit. He pulled his face back so that he could see her face. He drank in the sight of her closed eyes and her lips, glossy and soft, before the fervent need to taste her lips, to own her lips, burned his entire being.

 

She opened her eyes and saw him staring at her. Wondering what he was thinking, she grinned.

 

The corners of her mouth raised, the sexiest smile he had ever seen, and he was lost. The last thread of restraint snapped and he crushed his lips against hers.

 

Her head swam as he kissed her; her core ached and sent heat coursing through her veins. She ran her fingers up into the hair at the nape of his neck. His tongue plunged into her mouth and a moan slipped past her lips.

 

“Dance with me,” he breathed, keeping his mouth on hers. Not wanting to stop kissing her, but wanting to feel her body against his, he wrapped an arm around her waist and started pulling her along so they could both escape the confines of the booth.

 

Fighting against the haze that was clouding her brain, she struggled to understand the meaning of his words. Without breaking the kiss, she managed to answer, “What? Dance?”

 

“Dance with me,” he repeated.

Dare I Show My Face?

I feel really guilty. Like really REALLY guilty. I’ve been away from here for so long, I’m scared to pick it up again. Honestly, I was blown away to see that I still have followers. You all deserve great big hugs for that. I don’t deserve any of you.

 

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So to catch you up – in a nutshell – I’m doing okay. Thank you to those of you who worried about my sudden disappearance. I got a little bit obsessed with Facebook (that happens to me a lot, it’s a horrible personality trait that I have) and of course the kids and the snakes and some small odd jobs and all things domestic kept me very occupied. Then in February, I got a part time job away from home. Talk about a godsend. I was seriously losing my mind just staying at home with the kids all the time. I work in advertising, (not the creative part of it, though I do a little with that) doing scheduling and analysis. I also am my boss’ secretary in a way. And I also get to do a lot of proofreading work, which is really cool. Right now I’m proofing three different books. Not fiction, but you can’t have it all, right? I love the work. I love the people. Well – most of the people, but that’s a story for another day. But even with that, I’m glad to be there. And now it’s even more of a godsend because we’ve put the kids in private school. The extra income is definitely needed now. I just realized though that now that I’m working I have to change my bio. Not totally a stay-at-home mom anymore. Dammit! Okay, I’m kidding. It’s not that big of a deal. I guess.

 

But, here I am, trying my hand at this again. I’m trying to catch up with all the blogs that I follow because good lord, there have been some major changes in the lives of those I love to read. But that guilt thing is raising it’s ugly head again because there’s no way I can catch all the way back up. I apologize. I feel like I’ve let you down. I’m going to try. Things are always crazy here, but I really feel like I need that verbal spewing where I can just say whatever I think. Goodness knows I can’t do that at home and work has lots of rules (no swearing, which I could completely understand if we were always with the public, but we’re in the back offices and rarely see the public), so I’m on full censorship there.

 

(Side note: when I searched for “guilty face” for a picture to use, this is what came up.)

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One last thing before I go. I’m attempting to change the look of it here (I know. I know…it’s not happening very fast. These things take time. Patience people! Said the least patient person on the planet.) and I’m trying to get Kat’s button to show up here. No luck yet. We’ll see what other things I can spice up around here.

 

So thank you again my loyal followers. You are the best of the blogosphere. You sure made this erratic lady feel good.

Come Join The Fun

I’ve been meaning to do this post forever (okay, not really forever, but for over a month) and it’s about time that I do it. But first, please excuse my lack of manners the other day for not properly welcoming and thanking my new followers! It really means a lot to me that you all stop by and let me know that you are interested in what I have to say. So hugs to all my followers, old and new, you bring so much happiness to my little piece of the world.

 

I have mentioned a few times that I am in a role-playing group on Facebook based on the Dark Hunter series written by Sherrilyn Kenyon. The books are the perfect mix of romance, mythology, danger and action. The first book is Fantasy Lover and it’s the one my character, Selena, is seen the most. Basically, it’s about an average girl who has a very eccentric best friend (me!) who convinces her to do a spell to release a Greek sex slave from the book he is trapped in. Of course, nothing is as simple as it seems and by summoning this Greek, a whole world that they never knew existed is unveiled.

 

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I was hoping that I would be able to copy my scenes from Facebook to here, but I’ve gotten the impression that I shouldn’t do that. However, we have lots of followers of our group and non-characters are welcomed as Facebook “friends” and can read the interactions we play out.

 

If you are interested in the series and the group, you can “friend” my character using this link. Her name is Selena Laurens and when I’m logged in as my character, I have to remain in character and cannot be called by my real life name. Even if you’re not interested in reading the books, but want to see what this whole thing is about, you’re welcome to friend me and any of the other characters to watch us in action. Just shoot me an email (gordn99 @ gmail . com and remove the spaces) so I know to friend you right away.

 

And, we are also always looking for people to play different characters from the books. We have quite a few major openings right now and of course, there are tons of minor characters that could join in as well. Soooo, if you start reading the series and love it as much as I do (no kidding, some of the books I have read in just a day or two, they’re that good), you can join the group as a character and play along! With the talent I have seen here in the blogosphere, I know any of you would be a wonderful addition to the group. (And I have to admit I would love to interact with characters that I sort of know who’s on the other side of the screen. There’s a lot less pressure then.) It’s really very fun. We come up with our own story lines and then the characters act it out together over a number of days. It’s always fun to see how the story ends because with so many people involved and no script to go off, the story can include things that was never thought of during the original concept.

 

And if you aren’t interested in the Facebook group, but are still interested in the books, I’ll list the titles in reading order.

 

Fantasy Lover (one of my favorites)

Night Pleasures

Night Embrace

Dance with the Devil

Kiss of the Night

Night Play

Seize the Night

Sins of the Night

Unleash the Night (my all-time favorite from the series)

Dark Side of the Moon

The Dream-Hunter

Devil May Cry

Upon the Midnight Clear

Dream Chaser

Acheron (currently reading this one)

One Silent Night

Dream Warrior

Bad Moon Rising

No Mercy

 

I highly recommend the series. I love them and I hope you’ll check them out and see what all the fuss is about. And if you’re so inclined, come join the fun on Facebook. We’re basically a pretty silly group.

Not An Actual Marathon, But It Almost Seems Like It

Whoo! I am worn out. I feel like I’ve been operating in overdrive for the last five days. Like I’ve just run a marathon. I spent the weekend cleaning because I got some bug up my butt telling me I should dust and vacuum. Everything. Right Now! It’s a sick ritual I keep falling into. Every once in a while, I get irritated about something and then I feel like taking my frustrations out on dirt and grime. But I really hate cleaning so halfway through I get pissed that I’m cleaning while everyone else is just laying around or (worse!) continuing to dump toys on the floor. But by then, I can’t really walk away from cleaning because I’m already too far into it to stop. When I finish, I feel really good because A: I’m in a clean environment, which always makes me feel relaxed and B: I’ve worked out all of my frustrations. But then, within a day, toys are scattered all over my floor again and I wonder why I even bother. That’s the trouble with living with kids other people I guess.

Then, my daughter recently had a birthday so we took her a place called “Incredible Pizza” to celebrate. Just the four of us. (We’re trying to get her away from having parties every year. She’s 11 now so I think it’s probably time.) For those of you that aren’t familiar with Incredible Pizza it’s like an arcade on steroids. It’s very similar to Chuck E. Cheese, but it tries to attract a larger demographic by having more games and attractions that are more suited for older kids and adults, while still having plenty for the younger ones to play with. They also have a really large unlimited buffet that you can eat at the entire time you are there. (Yes, we have actually done both lunch and supper with playing in between the two meals before.) It’s a pretty cool place to go. Unless, of course, you’re like me and don’t really enjoy large crowds. Well, that’s not true. Large crowds are sometimes okay. It’s the large crowds of children that I don’t like. The only saving grace is that this place is large. The building used to be a large grocery store, so they are able to spread things out a bit. We were there nearly five hours and by the time we were ready to leave, I had just about been worn down into the ground.

Allow me for a moment to get on my soapbox. Grownups, I know that places like these are not always fun for the adults. Especially when you have a number of children that you are responsible for. I would much rather sit at my table the whole time too. I even had a really good book in my purse calling my name. And I also know that you cannot always keep your group together. Please, when you allow your children to go off without you, teach them ahead of time what is acceptable behavior. Kids that are twelve should not attempt to play on the toddler playground climbing equipment. It’s called toddler for a reason. Kudos to the boy who saw his friend getting ready to climb and was smart enough and brave enough to tell his friend, “My dad says we can’t play on that.” Kudos young man and I salute your dad. Job well done, sir. And grownups, do not allow young children to play without you. That’s just asking for trouble. Plus, they are not old enough to understand and/or remember said acceptable behavior. Also, when playing with your children, do not allow them to do whatever they want even though you are right there next to them. Standing on a moving car ride is not a good idea. I know you told your child to sit down but after he didn’t listen the four or five times you said it, maybe you should just yank your kid off the ride. It’s not going fast and he’s not even buckled in. I know that he’ll probably cry. I know it costs money to ride, but don’t worry about the 30 cents you’re wasting by not getting a full ride. Chalk it up to a learning experience and have hope that next time, he’ll stay sitting. Finally, adults and children, when going through the buffet line, do not pay more attention to the music that is playing and for the love of God, don’t dance while you’re picking out what food you want. Next time, this tired, hungry mama might go ape shit on your ass and no one really wants to see that. Especially my family. They would be mortified. As would I. I really do want to keep up the façade that I’m an easy-going person. Thank you.

image credit

An example of indoor toddler playground equipment

Now I know that all of you, my lovely readers, do not need the instruction that I just provided. But I am sure, in the course of your days, you will run into people that do need the reminder. I don’t expect you to tell another adult that they should be doing something differently when it comes to their kids. No one likes getting unsolicited advice. But I just had a brainstorm. Maybe you could make up an event that would illustrate why their kid should not be doing whatever it is they are currently engaged in. Take this for example. When I saw the mom with the kid standing up in the car ride I could have said to her, “You know, I heard a couple of months ago at some other arcade, a kid was standing in a car kinda like that one and he fell out and got his foot caught in the gears underneath. I guess it really messed up his foot.” Well, maybe not. I wouldn’t have the guts to do that and I’d probably get called out on the story. But it’s pretty entertaining in my head! So I guess you don’t have to do anything, but maybe chuckle a little to yourself and remember that I went through the same thing.

So anyway, back to my weekend. My parents and Hubby’s mom all wanted to come over so they could give their gifts to Drama Queen. (I’ve decided that I need to give names to my family on here, so my oldest is now Drama Queen. Haven’t come up with a name for youngest yet.) My parents showed up about an hour after we got back home, which allowed me just enough time to tidy up the dishes from the morning and disaster still remaining on my kitchen counter. (Which apparently is oftentimes mistaken for a catch-all. Not only does it collect junk mail and other various papers, but also books, tools, toys, and whatever else we happen to be carrying as we walk by it.) Hubby’s mom came about 40 minutes after my parents. My parents left about seven o’clock, but then mother-in-law didn’t leave until quarter till eight. So it was a rush to get both kids into the bathtub and into bed. Needless to say, there was no time for me to make a cake or make cupcakes for Drama Queen to take to school. And I didn’t get my laundry done.

Monday was a mad rush to get my exercise at the Y in and get home to get laundry going. Monday night I got the cupcakes made and frosted and got finally got Drama Queen’s birthday cake made. It’s a chocolate lava cake and definitely one of my favorites!

Today I had to get Drama Queen to school early for her band rehearsal, get a quick trip into Wal-Mart done, and drop off the cupcakes at her school (preferably before school started so she could just stop in the office when she got to school after band.) I was already feeling stressed by the time school started because I did get the cupcakes dropped off beforehand (read: ran through the store like a mad woman, throwing everything into my cart in order to get done as fast as possible), it was raining and really cold and windy, and Drama Queen spent too much time not getting dressed and was late for rehearsal. (She left the table to go get dressed and 15 minutes later I went into her room and she was still in her pj’s!) But that’s how she learns, right?

I also had to do more laundry today to completely catch up. I open up the dryer to get the first load out and I see a pair of earbuds that came with a cell phone and can be used as a “hands-free” device. Shit. As soon as I saw them, I remembered putting them in the pocket of this flannel shirt that I washed. Clearly I didn’t think about checking the pockets. Oh, who am I kidding? I never check pockets! I know I should, but it takes enough time getting all the laundry done. It’s not like I use them very often, but sometimes I use those for my computer instead of my mp3 player earbuds. Now I’m afraid if I try to use them again they will short out my computer. Or shock me. I’m going to ask Hubby if they’re worth saving or if I should just throw them away.

We also cut the eggs of our first clutch tonight. Today was they day we expected them to hatch, so when we reach the expected hatch date, we snip a small slit in the egg so the snake has an easier time getting it’s head out. I can’t wait to see what we have inside this clutch! This is the most exciting part of breeding snakes.

But now I’m seriously ready for some rest and relaxation. I don’t know when that’s going to happen, so I guess I’ll just look forward to some quiet time in the cardio room tomorrow. I think Drama Queen has to go in early again tomorrow though. They’re really upping their rehearsals because the concert is coming fast. That could interfere with my plans to get to the Y. We’ll have to see how well I can plan this out.

I’m So Not Worthy

While I was gone on hiatus, I was given some awards from some really great bloggers that must really love me a lot. I don’t feel deserving of them since I was gone, but what can I say? I’m a sucker for the blog love and have to tell you about the wonderful people that gave them to me. I’m sorry it took me so long to accept them and post about them.

 

The first was from Alice X at Guys, Boys, & Men. She’s such a doll and has an incredible blog with lots of really cool relationship posts. Thanks for thinking of me Alice X!

 

 

The rules for this award say that I am supposed to copy and paste this award to my blog. Got it. I am supposed to thank the person that awarded it to me and place a link for their blog. That’s above the picture if you need to go check her out. (You should. She’s cool.) Now I have to list 7 facts about myself. Nuts. This is always the hard part. But here goes.

 

1. The last time I flew in an airplane was when I was 22 and I went by myself (huge accomplishment that was!) to Delaware to visit my one of my sisters and her family and go to a NASCAR Cup Series race. (They don’t live there anymore, however.) The really cool thing about that trip was there was a hurricane forecasted to hit Delaware the day I was flying in. I changed my ticket from an afternoon flight to a morning flight and arrived literally less than 30 minutes before the first bands started to hit. The rain from Hurricane Isabel (which I think by then had been downgraded to a tropical storm) started just as my sister and I were driving away from the airport. That night brought the full winds and rain which knocked out the power in the middle of the night and it wasn’t restored until sometime the following evening. Because of the bad weather, qualifying for the race was cancelled. (I was supposed to go watch qualifying with my sister’s father-in-law.)
2. I took dance lessons for nine years. I took ballet, tap, jazz, and my last two years, pointe. My toes still crack in the morning as proof of the beating they took. But they’re still pretty toes.
3. My first job was at a Dairy Queen in my hometown. But I’ve also worked construction, in a women’s clothing store, been an office manager, and am now a mom that does a little bookkeeping.
4. I feel like maybe I’ve said this before, but I believe in reincarnation and have had moments where I swear my past lives are trying to break through my subconscious. I like to think about what my next lives are going to be like and if some of the people from this life will reappear in my next one. I hope so.
5. I took one art class in college because I had to and I loved it! I’ve been in love with art ever since. I’m not so great at creating it, but I love looking at it. My whole house would be covered in it if my Hubby would allow me to put that many nails in the walls.
6. Just yesterday I joined a group with my sister and her coworkers where you log your physical activity and it converts it to the equivalent steps. Then it compares your steps with the other members in your group and takes your group total and compares it to other groups. It’s through the hospital she works for and it’s just a fun way to keep their employees active. My competitive side is now saying I really have to get my butt in gear and exercise more than I have been. I don’t like seeing my numbers so far below that of my sister. I’ve always had this incredibly competitive side about me that wants to be at the top of the heap. At everything. School, yoga (even though yoga isn’t a competitive anything; I’m sick like that), cheerleading, dance, whatever. This blog is actually one of the rare times I don’t feel competitive.
7. At one time, I think it was around the time I was 16-18, I had nine piercings. Three in each ear lobe, two in the cartilage in my upper left ear, and my belly button. Now I only have five. Two in each ear lobe and one in the cartilage in my upper ear. If I could ever get rid of my baby belly bulge, I would seriously consider getting my belly button pierced again.

 

Now I’m supposed to give this award to 5 other bloggers and have them pass it along. But I’m going to have to break this rule. Because I’ve been away so long, I think anyone reading this deserves an award (and the ones to follow) so grab it up and post away!

 

The second was from Lonely Suitor at Bold Remarks. He’s a really cool guy with a blog that is always making me laugh. Thanks Suitor, for thinking I have that little bit extra to offer everyone.

 

 

Again the rules say that I have to provide a link to the person who awarded this to me. Again, got it. Go check Suitor out. I’ll wait for you. Okay, good. Now that you’re back, it says that I have to  provide 3 things that I love about myself. Shit. This is probably harder than listing seven things about myself. Now I actually have to like myself?! Just kidding. Let me think.

 

1. I love to be different from everyone else. Basically, I don’t give a damn about what’s in style or what other people are wearing. I get what I like and what looks good on me. Period. I get a kick out of having interests that are different from other women, especially because guys are genuinely surprised when they find out I like something such as UFC, NASCAR, snakes, etc. I also get a thrill out of stepping out of line with people that always expect everyone to go along with what they say or want. I mentioned a story about doing that here so I won’t elaborate any further. (It’s #3 down at the bottom of that post in case you’re curious.) I should add though, that I always listen and follow the orders of those that require and deserve every respect in the world, such as law enforcement and the military. I would never question their authority unless there was something seriously off about them. It’s just those people so completely full of themselves that have no real reason to be that I like to fuck with.
2. Um, I guess I like my hair. It’s really long and really, really soft. The color is pretty boring, but when it’s highlighted, it’s much better.
3. I like that I’m detail-oriented. Some people might see it as a negative (well, some people probably see my #1 as a negative too, but fuck it, I think it’s awesome), but I like being organized and putting out work that has been looked at with a fine tooth comb. I’m a perfectionist that way. I truly get irritated with myself when I miss a mistake and post something either here or on my Facebook role-playing group that isn’t exactly right.

 

And again I am told that I need to pass this award on to 5 other bloggers. I was going to not do this, but I changed my mind. I do have some blogs that really do give that extra goodness so here there are, in no particular order. Okay, I lied, it’s in alphabetical order. And because I don’t give a damn about these rules (which is kinda funny because I actually am such a rule follower), I am giving it to 6 – not 5 – very funny and very talented chicks.

 

The Onion at A Lot of Layers

Chanel at Fabulously Neurotic

Ms Jenna at FACS Teacher Jenna

Jewels at Jewels Turning 30

Random Girl at Random Girl Blog

Kat at Tapetum Lucidum

 

Finally, my lovely Kat at Tapetum Lucidum gave me this award that I definitely don’t deserve because my rack is more than lacking, but because I love her, I’m going to play along and pretend I have something worth looking at there. So thank you, my dear Kat, I can never live up to the standard of you and Jewels, but I love that you thought of me.

 

 

And with this award, I am supposed to post a picture of said rack. Now before I do so, I feel I must in the spirit of full disclosure, tell you that what you will see is more bra than boob and that I couldn’t create cleavage if my life depended on it. So don’t get your hopes up too high. They just aren’t worth getting your undies all in a bunch.

 

 

And like the first, I am just going to allow any of my lovely ladies to take this award and run with it, because hey, who am I to tell you that you should or shouldn’t show off your set. If you want to do it, now you have the perfect excuse to do so!

 

I also wanted to share my excitement from yesterday, but it really doesn’t need it’s own post. I bought myself a pair of sexy boots yesterday morning and am all excited to shake my money-maker in them! I promised on Twitter (if you don’t follow me on Twitter and want to, the button is on the upper left!) that I would have pictures coming, so, drumroll please!

 

 

They’re only a tiny bit too big, but with feet as small as mine, you learn to not complain when you find a pair that are even close to fitting. They’re not black (more of like a brownish gray color), but again, when you find a pair that are still really cute and practically fit, you don’t quibble about the color. It’s not the greatest picture, but I took both of them with my webcam, so the quality is not as good as it could be. I’ll get a better picture soon.

 

So that about does it for me today. I think I’ve spent more than enough time talking your ear off. I’m in an exceptionally chipper mood today, so before I overdose on happy and give you a second-hand sugar high, I’ll just give you a hug and say see you later!