My first Christmas gift this week.

Sometimes, the tv irritates me. Now, sometimes it is a godsend so don't be thinking I am one of "those people". Sometimes tv is a great baby sitter when you stayed out way too late playing beer pong with a golf ball and driving around with a chick in a prom dress in the back of a truck. But I digress, this is about the present I got this week. I shut off the tv after dinner, it was irritating me. My children were VERY sad, they did not appreciate this. They were upset. I figured they would get over it; however, when I went to bed that night I found a gift on my pillow. It was a sock, and in the sock was a rock, and folded note. I unfolded the note, thinking that my child had left me a love note since I had saved her from the evils of television earlier.
The note read:
Dear Mom and Dad,
You are meen. I don't like them. Just meen.
From,
Gracie Smith

Helping others....It's my thing

My baby was so proud of herself for helping kids who might not get presents for Christmas, get presents for Christmas. She picked out 4 things, 2 girl presents and 2 boy presents. Then, she made a video about it......that just happens to be an entry in the PingGadget "Ping Your Thing" contest. PingGadget is a cool next generation micro blogging service. Check it out here: http://pinggadget.tumblr.com/




If you like my baby and her video, help her out by clicking like on the Facebook contest page of PingGadget~ http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=206745656371&oid=135752659709

Toast

This is my favorite ornament, toast. When I was in kindergarten I made this in class. I took a holiday napkin, put it on a piece of toast, and shalaqued the whole thing. I effing loved that toast. Then, when I was about 21, my mother thought she would be clever and stick the toast in my suitcase so when I got home to Boise I would have my favorite toast ornament. Well, it took me a while after I got home to figure out what the crumbled toasty mass was in my suitcase pocket. Her stupid plan destroyed my toasty buddy. So, about 6 years later, my mom and my sister got together one year and made me a new toast. They presented it to me for Christmas. This is it...not the original, but not bad:






This is the new ornament my mom gave the girls this year. They love it. I, love magical mushrooms. Now don't go getting any psychedelic ideas. I just think they are romantic and cute.

Genetics......they are amazing, aren't they?

Friday morning my youngest child got up before everybody else, unannounced to us. When my husband got up to let out the dogs, he found her in our living room...with her blanket, and with the television on. She was mesmerized. This conversation did ensue:
Trev: Emma. What are you doing?
Emma: Watching these people clean. Daddy, come see this. Come watch these people clean with me!
Trev: I'm confused. What?
Emma: Look dad (points to tv) these people are cleaning. We should buy this!

My husband looks at the tv. It's an infomercial for one of those yellow steam cleaner devices. He looks at my daughter. She nods.
Here comes Grace, who has woken up by now.

Grace: Why are you guys watching commercials? You are so weird.

Is it wrong to go work out and then eat taco bell and a bag of your 4 year old's halloween candy?

The answer to that is no, it's not. Now that we have that cleared up, let's address the fact that I have not updated this blog for a month! Well, we are busy. I think I have said 10 times today, this year just needs to be over. Sometimes you know, there are just years when the whole year is bad. If I had a fast forward button I would use it. I remember the last year that was a "bad" year: It was 2004. That was the year that Zack was killed and Bob went to prison. It was a bad year. This is the year that my husband will lose his dad. At 58. To cancer. So, what have we done in one month? Well, I went to the ladies wedding. It was lovely. I hung out with some fun boys afterward and got drunk and threw up in a hotel room. That's what all 32 year old mothers of 2 do, isn't it?



Then, we flew to Boise for Trevor's brothers wedding. The Halloween wedding. It was cool, it was a beautiful wedding. It was also an emotional black hole of emotional-ness. Yup folks, that's as eloquent as I get. Well, it is what it is. We are so lucky to have family and friends who care about us, a roof over our heads, jobs...and...as my Daddy always says, "we're rich in love". Thanks Dad.

My lady friend is going to marry her lady friend

In Seattle this weekend. And I am going. Alone. On Friday I will drive to DIA and get on a plane by myself (which I never do anymore)and meet my college roommate April in the Seattle airport. We then get to go downtown, and stay in a hotel--a fancy one by my standards (hey, I live in BFE here!). The reception is at a place called Purr, which I understand is a pretty cool bar. I will be kid-less and husband-less! Lucky me!! I can't wait to take pictures of my highfalutin city adventure and post them all for you to see here. Happy Trails!

**perhaps I should sneak some barbies into the suitcase so they can test out the pool**

Ineptedness and loserdom (yes, those are both words, I promise)

So, I have just spent an inordinate amount of time on Blogher. It is a website where women who blog can congregate (that is the simplest description). I thought to myself, Self! You have a blog! You should join this Blogher thing. So I did. Then I became entangled in a web of blogs which were very pretty and nicely set up. The owners were crafty, and they were selling their crafts. Or they were photographers or artists selling their art. The owners were pretty. They did not have blogs about naked barbies, douchebags or setting corn dogs on fire.
It was intimidating. I mean, here I am thinking this was a great place for REAL women to list blogs and such as. However, it seemed at first like a place for women who have way more talent and skills than I do to list their blogs.
So, I did it. I submitted this naked barbie loving snuggie wearing corndog inferno blog for listing on Blogher. We shall see if they will have me. On a positive note, those fancy pretty blogs with photography and great layouts are fun to read and look at. They are also fun to aspire to. I suggest if you are bored to check it out (blogher, that is) and thumb through the list of blogs they have listed. It's better than bad, it's good!

What happens when you let little girls take barbies to the Hampton Inn pool.....

Excuse me while I go get my bumpit and snuggie while listening to pure moods....

I love infomercials. No really, I LOVE infomercials. So does my sister, I believe there may be a genetic link. As a matter of fact—my love of infomercials is the reason why I can’t have another baby. It’s true! I am currently the owner of a ginsu knife, the ultimate chopper, pure moods 1-7, Tae-bo, and very nearly a food dehydrator. These items were all purchased via telephone at approximately 2:45 am, whilst a newborn baby was nursing like a ravenous animal. Had I been asleep, this probably wouldn’t have happened. However, babies like to eat, therefore, I own a plethora of random crap I don’t use and should probably give away on free cycle. My husband and I have logically concluded that if we had another baby, I would be forced to purchase a snuggie, a bumpit and the WEN hair care system. So, I have made peace with this decision. I do not need a snuggie, a bumpit OR the WEN hair care system. Although I am pretty sure that if I utilized them all at once, I would be so attractive I would have to beat men off with a stick. Perhaps this is my husbands ulterior motive…..he wants to have me all to himself and therefore cannot have me gussying myself up with fabulous items like snuggie (in case you were inept at placing a blanket on yourself) or the bumpit (in case you are inept at ratting your hair like Vince Neil from Motley Crue circa 1984). On second thought, maybe I need to go turn on my tv!

Lack of insight into your own douchebaggery OR why people can't seem to understand they are asshats.

You know, I have been pondering this and the meaning of life for some time now. What does it all mean, Basil? Well, I wish I had answers. What I do know, is that it seems like there are a large handful of douchebags out there that just do NOT know the vast depth of their own douchy-ness, if you will. Now, for today's purposes we are going to focus purely on the internet debauchery that is running rampant. However, feel free to apply these concepts to real life as you see fit. So, take the one upper, internet style. You put something in your Facebook status. They inevitably have to one up you. Every.Single.Time. What about this exchange? Zombie skunks Facebook status: "I had a terrible day, everything went wrong" and inevitably there is this idiocy: Reply from Douchey Mcdoucherton to Zombie Skunk: "Today I had the best day ever! I won the lottery, cleaned my house, screwed my husband and baked a cake. Sorry your day sucked!" WTF???? Seriously? *sigh*
Now we move on to an entirely different category of douchnozzles, the "arguers". You put something in your status and they have to argue with you. Why? Because Facebook is a debate forum? Because you are going to change somebodies political ideology over a status report on a social networking site? Yes, yesterday Douchey Mcdoucherton didn't like my status update on universal health care and said so. Consequently, I changed my political party to Republican. NOT.
Equally annoying are the people who never seem to access the social networking site you are on....not for 3 or 4 months (or they do but can't seem to find the time to interact with YOU)and then BAM! They appear out of nowhere only to post a snotty comment or two on something. Yes, Douchey McDoucherton, my daughter started first grade this year. I got a new job after 8 years and my father in law has a terminal illness. Thanks for not acknowledging those things but then swooping in to plant that snide comment on my link. *eye roll*
Will they ever get it? Will they ever have insight into the error of their ways? Probably not. Fortunately, it's the internet and the "remove" and "ignore" buttons will be getting a lot of play this week. If you are applying this to real life....good luck to you. I hope you live in a rural area.
FYI, it's 42 (the answer. just in case anyone was wondering)

Mr. Mantis aka "Mr. will eat your face off"

So, my kids found Mr. Mantis at my sister's, hanging out on her patio. He stayed relatively in the same spot all weekend and sometimes when we would watch him...he would fall over. I think either this was the greatest defense mechanism of all time or he had a traumatic brain injury and was severely disabled. At any rate, when he noticed you were there, he would rear back and waggle his feet at you. Then he would turn his head back and forth, kind of like that scary creature in the movie Alien before it ate somebodies face off. I am pretty sure if you fell asleep on the patio you would have woken up to this dude eating your face off. I am also pretty sure that my kids wanted him for a pet. Fortunately, animals like Mr. Mantis belong outside....patiently waiting to eat my sister or brother in laws faces off. Sleep well Katie and Dennis!

Trip to Boise.....The Rematch

This is what happens when you take your military, ex-law enforcement, semi-redneck husband to a fancy hotel.


On the other hand, we did go to a fondue restaurant downtown. Children were spared. He was, however, forced to use pink fondue stickers. Hey, if it involves cheese he probably would have donned a tutu if it was required.

Are appendages really that necessary?

I would seriously consider cutting off a finger or toe in exchange for going to see bad religion live. Also, for a millions dollars I would definitely cut off something. Most likely my pinky (who really needs those anyway?)even more likely than that, a pinky toe. I have broken both my pinky toes several times and I am certain they don't bend or serve any useful purpose at this point however a million dollars or bad religion would. Now that I am thinking about it, I would probably cut off a toe for 50K. True story.

Trip to Boise=EPIC FAIL...or maybe not? Wait......yes. Squiggy declares it is so.

Ahhh. Waiting in the airport for flights that have been canceled and/0r delayed depending on which day we are talking about, re-routed to the tune of approx 1 million dollars, screaming hungry children that want snacks which now can only be paid for with credit cards (not the actual cash in my hand), more children waiting in airports, Squiggy (yes, squiggy) holding down the fort-aka-airport lounge chair and a burrito which was paid for with cash money. Our only sustenance so it turned out to be quite tasty. I would say that we are lucky we didn't end up in the "cavity search" TSA section of Denver International. BONUS!

Flowers that I did not kill

I have a semi brown thumb. Lets call it a beige thumb, or maybe a tan thumb. Either way, I should look into Xeriscaping. However, I have managed to keep alive several plants this year. Mom, it's not the hydrangea, and speaking of which, if you come over--don't look. Seriously. Don't.

Well, apparently, only dead crusty worms are on the radar. She certainly didn't have any problem with her dad stringing this worm up so she could catch a fish!

Prison dads, face punching, and why it's hard to be a girl

Let me give you the "pre" story to the story. This year was my babies first year of kindergarten. We were somewhat trepidatious about this, as we were wondering if it would be easy for her to make friends and how that process would go. Soon after school started, the following conversation ensued:
Grace: Mom, Tiffany is my best friend.
Me: That’s nice
Grace: Her dad is in prison
Me: *chokes on tea* Really? Did she tell you that?
Grace: Ya, she told me. That's why she lives with her Aunt. Her dad stole a bunch of stuff and now he is in prison in California.
Me: Wow, sounds like her dad made some really bad choices. Stealing is never a good choice.
Grace: Nope. Oooo. Wonder Pets is On!
Fast forward to later on in the school year.
I walk into the house at about 6:30 because of an emergency at work and a sick husband who begged me to stop by Sonic for dinner. Trev is lying on the couch lamenting about how he thinks he feels feverish and might have the flu. Oh! The drama. My children are fortunately engrossed in Noggin (best invention ever) instead of destroying my home. I ask Emma how her day at preschool was. She starts to cry. Gracie goes to the bathroom. I ask Emma what happened today.
Emma: "Daniel* says my dress is yucky and that I am yucky"
Me: Did you tell Daniel that wasn't nice and not to talk to you like that?
Emma: Ya, I told him HE was yucky then.
Me: Well, we don't tell people they are yucky. I want you to tell Daniel it isn't very nice to talk to people like that and that he is mean.
Trevor: Daniel is an idiot. You are beautiful.
Grace comes out of the bathroom and I, trying to be ever positive, say "Grace! How was your day today baby!"
Grace: Terrible
Me: Oh my goodness, why?
Grace: At recess I tried to play with my friends and Tiffany got them in a circle and said "we don't want you to play with us"
Me: Wow. It sounds like Tiffany wasn't very nice to you. Real best friends wouldn't do something so mean. What did you do?
Grace: Cried
Me: Next time you tell her that's fine, you will play with somebody else. And then you go find somebody nice to play with. Can you do that? I know that's hard.
Grace: Why would she do that? I thought she was my best friend?
Me: Well, sometimes people make bad choices and they aren't nice. I hope you would never treat anybody like that.
Trevor: I hate girls.
After they went to bed Trev and I decided that:
A. Daniel is lucky Emma did not punch him in the face, because she has the tendency to do that when upset.
B. We think Tiffany sucks. But how do you tell your 6 year old that their best friend will probably have 3 kids from 4 different dads and be doing private dancing jobs at the Clowns Den in 12 years so not to worry about it cause she's a loser? Ah well, she will learn soon enough I am sure. Like, about the time her 10 year high school reunion comes around. That's not in too long, is it?
* All names have been changed to protect the innocent, people in prison, their children, people who might end up in prison or people who might end up working at the Clowns Den as a "dancer"

Jesus doesn't want people to be left handed

Grace: Mommy, I am right handed, right?

Me: Yes, you are right handed.

Grace: What "handed" are you?

Me: I am left handed.

Grace: Why are some people one way and some people the other? How does it happen?

Me: Well, it's just the way you were born. Some people are born left handed but most people are born right handed.

Grace: That is not true.

Me: What?? Why would you think that is not true?

Grace: Nana (my mother) told me what really happens.

Me: Really. Well, what really happens then?

Grace: Well, see, you go to this class and learn about Jesus. Then, they make you be right handed. You are right handed because the Jesus class makes you be right handed.

Me: Well, I am sure that is not what Nana said. Jesus, I am sure, does not care what hand you use.

Grace: Yes sir! That is the truth.

Me: hmmmm.

So, I call my mother and ask her what, in the name of right handed fiesta Jesus, she told her grand daughter. Apparently the conversation revolved around my Dad going to Catholic school and how those mean nuns hit left handed kids with a ruler until they wrote right handed.

However, in our house, Jesus makes you right handed. And that, is that.

Souse, Wieners, and wormy buddy

I found these items at the grocery store in Torrington, Wyoming. The first one was squishy if you squeezed it. But also seemed to hold its square shape. The people I asked were unaware of what "souse" was. I may Google it to get a better disposition. However, I also am hungry and need a snack so, feel free if you have the time. The second pic does not do those wieners justice. They are a frightening unnatural color of red. They seriously scared the shit out of me.

In unrelated events, it has been raining here for days. While that is a bonus because it means I don't have to water my plants or my yard (which I tend to forget anyway, I am a plant murderer) it also means that an inordinate amount of earth worms are beached in my drive way. So, Emma has a new best friend. She found him outside in our drive way since it rained all night last night. He is sleeping in her bed. Can you guess what he is? He is a crusty dead dried up earthy worm she has named "wormy buddy". When I freaked out and went on a tirade about how gross this was, She cried and cried. She said he was her best friend in the whole world. She said they needed to be together. I said "Wormy buddy is a dead crusty earth worm you found beached in our driveway." Then, I relented. Its disgusting. But, they needed to beeee together.

Oh, by the way, has anybody else noticed that now 2 out of the 3 posts in this blog include wieners? Hmmmmm.

Oops! I crapped my pants!

I am fat. I want to be skinny. On the other hand, I do not want to poop my pants. That is why I will not be purchasing the weight loss drug ALLI. Here is a quote from an MSNBC article on ALLI :

"(I)’ve pooped my pants 3 times today, and sorry to get descriptive but it even leaked onto the couch at one point!” writes one user. " which can be found at : http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/19587389

There is also a list of side effects on ALLI's website. http://www.myalli.com/howdoesitwork/treatmenteffects.aspx These include:

* You may feel an urgent need to go to the bathroom. Until you have a sense of any treatment effects, it's probably a smart idea to wear dark pants, and bring a change of clothes with you to work

* You may not usually get gassy, but it's a possibility when you take alli. The bathroom is really the best place to go when that happens

OK, how about eating healthy and exercising as opposed to pooping your pants. I'm all for losing weight, and I know that eating healthy and exercising are hard (this is why I am still fat), but let me tell you I would rather not poop my pants. It's bad enough to be overweight. Let alone to be an overweight pants pooper.

Wieners, fire, and...well....wieners and fire.

In an irritating turn of events, I was forced to get up off the couch during Jeopardy and run to my kitchen because I burned the Schwan's corn dogs. I mean, I literally lit the sticks on fire......flames were coming from my wieners. The smoke alarms were going off. Emma was screaming and holding her head in her hands saying Too Loud! Too Loud!. Grace was yelling "mom, you set off those fire detectors with the corn dogs again! and Trevor had opened the oven door and was waving a hot pad back and forth saying "You lit corn dogs on fire while I was gone, more than once?"