62

On this day I remember and celebrate you - your brilliance, your wisdom, your charm, your love.

On this day you would have been 62.

As I type these words I am shaking my head incredulously…still after so many years. Because you should be here. We should be celebrating 62 years of an incredible life while smiling at thoughts of what the future might hold.

I miss you more than words can say.

Happy Birthday, Daddy

I love you.

P.S - in case you’re wondering,I think it’s ok to hang from chandeliers in heaven.

It Takes a True Friend to tell you that you suck!

Thanks Dooz, for holding that mirror in front of my face. Yes, I know,I know I haven't been around much lately and truth is I may not be around much for the next week or so. In addition to holiday madness, I've got a friend in the middle of a divorce and work ...well what can I say there are many end of the year loose ends that need to be tied in a neat little bow.

Never fear,though, I will return soon with stories of menage a trois (or being propositioned for one anyway),penis pumps and sipping, spa'ing and celebrating...to the point where I was feeling it for 2 days.

Thank you all so much for the birthday wishes. It makes a gal feel like you might kind of like her a little or something.

Ta for now,

WM

You Say it's your Birthday...It's my Birthday too

In the words of one 50 Cent
Go, go, go shawty
It's your birthday
We gon' party like it's yo birthday

Is there any more that needs to be said ? Today, 12/12 yours truly was thrust from the loins of one Supermom.
Uh wow did I say that out loud - that was graphic and not really the direction I wanted to take this post but the point is
IT's MY BIRTHDAY

How am I celebrating the big day you might ask ? W-O-R-K

I know, I know sad but true, but the Worker Twin arrives in Seattle tomorrow afternoon then I'm off Friday and she and I are throwing a Sip, Spa and Celebrate party so really I promise you I'm not that pathetic.

And now a little linky love:

I have to give a shout out to my girl Lollie for being the first to bestow bloggy birthday wishes on me. I lurves me some Lollie. Thanks lady, for the b'day wishes.

And on another serious note I'd like to point you in the direction of a fellow Seattle Blog Mom. Kathryn has graciously and selflessly been giving of herself to help those who were affected by the recent flooding here in WA. My heart goes out to all those who were victims of such unfortunate and tragic circumstances. Please, if you are so inclined, check out her post (which includes some heartwrenching photos) and while I normally would never ask readers to donate, if you feel inspired please consider donating to the Red Cross to aid those in need.

That said, Happy Birthday to me and all that jazz and if any lurkers would like to give me a present I'd love it if you'd comment. I'm always so curious about who you are.

Ta for now and Smooches,

The newly 35 year old WM

Life Lessons Learned this weekend

DO not, I repeat DO not allow yourself to drink a whole bottle of wine on Friday night (what can I say I was relaxing with hubs and next thing I knew the bottle was empty)

Do not go to the meat section of the International Market the following day (that way you can avoid nearly vomiting in the store at the sight of a larger than life Squid, and some kind of meat which can only be described as the asshole of some animal)

Do not go with hubby and his friend to pick up mattress because you will wind up standing on the shoulder of one of the busiest sections of I-5 while hubby and friend check to make sure said mattress is still securely fastened to the top of the vehicle

Do not go with hubby and his friends to pick up mattress because not only will you wind up standing on I-5 you will then get back in the vehicle and be subjected to riding home in a cloud of smoke because even though you asked them not to smoke with you in the car the stress from thinking the mattress was falling off the truck made them “need” a cigarette and sadly the spot you selected in the truck was right in between them

Do not let hubby’s friends stay at your house after picking up mattress. Normally, you don’t mind them but in this case you are hung-over and you didn’t really need them hanging out all night - especially when all you want to do is fall on to your new comfy king sized pillowtop mattress and begin a deep slumber

DO recover nicely after Saturday and go get a Christmas tree with your kids.

Do laugh with your youngest stepdaughter,GT about the fact that she thinks the guy helping with the tree is hawt

Do joke with her good naturedly about how she should go give him the tip and maybe slip him her phone number at the same time and then watch her turn red as you suggest this

Do have each family member pick out their own special ornament that they like or feel represents them (mine just happened to be a cocktail with a smiley face- go figure)

Do decorate the tree and put up Christmas lights together while drinking hot chocolate and listening to the radio station that only plays Christmas music this time of year because your family truly rocks and its moments like this that you live for

Oh, if only the boy in clogs would quit touching me

First off, no boy nor man should ever wear clogs. Ever. I don't care if he has the worst foot pain ever. And believe me I know about foot pain.

Yesterday Clog Boy (who is really a grown man in his 20's but the name stuck as soon as I spied those things on his feet) did it again. In the elevator. He and a fellow co-worker were in there as I stepped on. We all shared a laugh about something silly and as I exited the elevator he did it. A brief touch on my back. This was the second time.

I don't honestly believe Clog Boy's pats on the back are intentionally done to be skeevy. I just think he thinks we're on friendlier terms then we are and in his mind it's just a good natured, "take it easy" kind of touch.

But right, hi, HR personnel here. You might want to re-think the touching of the folks that are charged with maintaining a workplace free of harassment.

I chalk it up to his complete and utter dumb assedness.

Seriously what else could it be... obviously if the boy wears clogs then his judgment is clouded anyway.

Now, to those I owe memes I shall get to them soon (or not) just don't rush me. I beg of you, please because this fending off of clog wearing beasts is hard work,yo.

Until next time

Smoochie Smooches

I got your Drama Queen

As part of my children’s co-op preschool program I’m required to attend monthly parent education meetings. Despite the fact that these meetings cut in to my after work relaxation time I generally enjoy them. Snacks, chitchatting with other parents, talking through our different parenting issues and walking away with new and creative ways to tackle them in the end is usually time well spent.

At the meeting a few nights ago each parent was supposed to bring a "hot topic" to the table for discussion. As topics were broached that I felt I had something valuable to contribute I did. Yet I still hadn’t thought of my own hot topic.
I just kept drawing a blank.

Then it came to me, my daughter J and her flare for the dramatic.

“Ma- ahm” she said to me the other day as if it were a two syllable word “you just can’t say that to me” when I scolded her for playing with my laptop and then burst in to tears or “Ma-ahm I just can’t wear socks today ” she’d say in a voice that clearly meant that life as we know it will never be the same if you don’t let me do as I would like. Or “Ma-ahm I’ve just got to sleep in my cheerleading uniform” she’d plead and gesture to it animatedly appearing more like one of my older girls then a 4 year old .

When it came time for the others to offer suggestions another mom that had offered many useful suggestions to others that evening raised her hand. As I made eye contact to let her know I was eagerly awaiting her response she began "Is it possible she gets it from you. I mean I’m not saying it well …and I don’t mean it offensively but just watching your mannerisms you talk with your hands and well I mean you are kind of animated.”

Resisting the urge to deliver a swift karate kick to her neck, I thought about it for a moment. The room was silent as the other moms waited to see how I’d react.

And before I knew it I began to laugh because J is mostly likely mimicking behavior she’d seen from me.

When the other moms realized I wasn’t going to choke her with my bare hands they too began to laugh and after the laughter subsided, someone suggested getting J involved in theater or some type of class where she might be able to have fun with her newfound “talent”.

To which I thought - that could be a great idea.

And as the others made suggestions I didn’t hear I realized I’d gotten lost in the thought of my daughter turning an annoying stage into an amazing moneymaking talent.

Advance several years:

Off in the distance a voice speaks: And the winner for outstanding performance in a dramatic film …

J for her performance in Memoirs of a Childhood Drama Queen

As they announce my daughters name she will take the stage to a standing ovation.

The camera will then pan to an immaculately dressed, diamond draped, sophisticated middle aged woman clad in the hottest size 2 Praza gown tearing up.

"I have to first thank my mom" she’ll say "for recognizing and nurturing my talent early on."

The middle aged, hot-bodied, Prada clad me will beam with pride as she goes on to talk about how "we did it".

Aah... I can see it now.

I will have taken early retirement to a mansion in LA somewhere because my little drama queen parlayed her preschooler dramatics into a career earning 30 million per picture.

Don’t hate…

My name is WM and I’m a drama queen producing a mini me and damn proud of it

Freakish Tendencies - Part II

I'm thinking I may just do a weeklong series on the oddities that make me me (part I is here).

Mmm...on second thought maybe not. I like the fact that I have deluded myself in to thinking I'm normal. It works for me.

But, what I am going to do is a "part two" because well this one is just too odd not to share. And if you can't laugh at yourself well then who can you laugh at? Me!!! So here I am baring my soul for your amusement.

Here goes.

Remember that post, you know the one I wrote about the need to recognize the shoes of the person using the facilities next to you.
Yes, well in this particular instance at work several days ago I didn't even have to recognize any shoes.
As I stood at the bathroom sink washing my very own hands this bold , brazen, nasty hussy leaves the stalls and as I look up at her in an effort to be polite she looks at me glares and walks out. She didn't even try to hide the fact that she wasn't going to wash her hands. Uggh!! So what did I do ?

I shuddered and then...

wait for it...


No, no I didn't do as one may have thought and make a mental note to leave an anonymous note on her desk

I washed my hands again.

Here's where you laugh (as I did when I realized what I had just done).... As if at that moment my washing my hands a second time would compensate for this nasty stinky filthy non hand washing bimbo.

*sigh*

And there you have it. The end. Feel free to leave numbers for good therapists in the comments.

Proof of my freakish tendencies

Aahh, nothing like 4 consecutive days away from work to refresh and rejuvenate me.

My holiday was absolutely lovely with the exception of the twins getting nasty colds on Thanksgiving thus requiring they stay home with Dad while the older girls and I went to my Aunt's for the annual festivities. (Thank goodness for the tons of leftovers I grabbed before I left to enable us all to have Thanksgiving dinner together the next night.)

Oh yeah, and with the exception of when hubby and I got in to a "debate" about my blog.

It was at that time that I discovered hubby, who does not read my blog ,thinks that the bulk of what I do is bitch about him. He thinks that I have painted such a horrible picture of him that he wouldn't dare meet any of my blogosphere pals. I told him not to flatter himself and that I have better things to talk about then him. I merely invited him to read posts other than what I have shared with him to see that while there have been a few times in which he was depicted in a not so favorable light those types of posts are few and far between.

So in an effort to emphasize the fact that I do not constantly paint a poor picture of my husband I am shining the light on myself and blogging about what a weirdo I am.
Weeeell it's not so much that I am a weirdo as it is that I have the tendency to do weird things every now and then. Ok, yeah, I guess I am a weirdo.

Aaanyhoo...

Take for instance last Friday. Black Friday. The Friday in which people at a local mall were trampling one another to get to the good sales. Right. I joined in the madness.

No I didn't go to the mall.

But I did go to Wal-Mart. WAL MART.

If that isn't proof that I'm a freak then I don't know what is.

In my defense the Wal Mart in my neigborhood is only a few years old and hasn't yet turned in to crazy central. It's actually nice, clean and well staffed.

But still. What was I thinking ?

When my alarm went off at 4:15 I silently questioned my sanity but got up, got ready and headed out anyway.
And while I figured it would be madness I didn't count on seeing a line around the corner. A line that was not single file but quadruple file. After a few expletives and more sanity questioning I decided to take it as a personal challenge to brave the chaos. I found a spot to park and as it wasn't quite 5:00 when I arrived I stayed in the warmth of my car until I saw the line moving. And boy did it ever move. I didn't expect it to move so fast. I literally got out of my car and ran. Thank goodness it was still dark...because really I'm not sure why I was running. I mean even though the line was moving quickly there was still a buttload of people that had not yet been let in.

But, as luck would have it , the line went quickly and I was let in after only freezing one ass cheek off. And minus one or two traffic jams near electronics I quickly made my way to the toy aisle.

What was so important you might ask. Well believe it or not my 4 1/2 year olds have never had bicycles (they've had trikes and foot powered cars but no bikes) and I felt it was high time I stopped being a lamo and purchased them for my poor deprived children. So one Spiderman bike and one Disney Princess bike later, I left the madness. Sure, they had other great sale items but I could only take so much. And here's the funny thing. The bikes weren't even on sale. So yeah, I'm not sure why I needed to get to Wal-Mart at 5 am on the worst shopping day in the history of human beings ... It's a mystery...(cue twilight zone theme)

So there you have it. That's how I roll. I'm a freak, an oddity...uh me and all the other 4 gazillion weirdos who thought it was also a good idea to shop on Black Friday.

I am Thankful...

That last week ended without any casualties. Lets just say it was a hellish week at work - probably one of the most stressful times of year for me as far as my "job for pay" is concerned. It became even more stressful when my boss inadvertently added babysitting and hand holding to my job description. So yeah, I did a lot of hand holding for grown ass adults last week. People who knew they had to get information to me by a certain deadline but didn't and only wanted to bitch and moan about the deadline and how they couldn't meet it even though they were notified of it 3 weeks prior. Thus I'm thankful that I made it through the week with minimal hair loss, only broke out in hives once and only drank 5 nights out of 7. *ok,I could be exaggerating a bit here... maybe

I'm thankful that my hubby is so good with his hands. (Get your mind out of the gutter). Never having cut hair before in his life he purchased clippers and was able to cut my sons hair perfectly yesterday - even lining it up nicely around the hairline, neck and ears just like the professionals - effectively saving me $15 a month which results in about $180/year back in my pocket also known as a few super cool new pairs of shoes

And most importantly I'm thankful for a 3 day workweek! Oh yes and those people that took the entire week off making traffic today a breeze, finding parking effortless and my office nice and quiet which is a welcome change after last week.


Now then please, go forth and be thankful, be safe, have fun and don't expect to hear much outta me until next week.


Smooches,
WM

But He Only Cross Dresses On The Weekends

As hubby prepared to take his uniforms in to work for the weekly laundry service he commented “I better check and make sure none of your panties are in here”

“My panties...Why would they be over there?” I asked referring to the dirty clothes hamper in which he keeps his uniforms prior to taking them back in to be cleaned each week.

"I don’t know but the laundry service guy sure did give me an odd look as he handed them back to me the other day." hubby remarked

“Really” I said through laughter “What did he say?”

“Well he just looked at me funny and said I don’t think I’ll be needing these and handed them back to me."

Oh what I wouldn't give to have been a mind reader that day.

In which I turn into a radio dj and just start announcing things

Like any good radio dj I must first start with a few shout outs (could I be any more "90s")

First to my beautiful and talented youngest stepdaughter GPT, who turned 13 on Saturday, Happy Birthday, Sweets. I shall now pull out the chastity belt and the padlocks for your bedroom door (uh and window too). Oh and I suppose I can no longer rightfully call you GPT (Girly Pre-teen) so from this point forward you shall be known as Girly-Teen . Love you GT

And another b'day shout out to my big sis, E, who turns 37 today. Happy Birthday baby. Take care of you today and not everyone else. Smooches and huge love to you.

Ooh and lest we not forget my mom. My amazing, selfless, funny, beautiful kick ass mom turns 61 tomorrow.

Now let us leave birthday central so that I may announce my proudest parenting moment yet. Really I wasn't in the room when it happened but hubby told me quickly after. So yeah, my four year old son called his sister bitch. According to hubby he'd heard it from the Batman movie and quickly parroted it . Let me tell you I'm oozing with pride.

And I'll leave you with that.

WM out

Because I must Know

Because I must know...see what I did there ? It's a play on my blog title...clever, huh ? Uh right anyway before I get to the point of this post a quick update in which my last two posts tie in to one another.
Aunt Flo helped me grow a pair...wait that didn't sound right. I didn't actually grow a pair , but I did use Aunt Flo as my excuse for why I was unable to make it to the Mary Kay facial. So maybe AF is not such an evil whore after all - well yeah she really is...but I guess in this particular instance she was spot on with her timing.

Ahem, now that you've been properly updated... on to what I must know. Comedian Ralphie May whom I get a kick out of (what can I say I like a little crude humor) suggested that men don't actually like the gifts we (their significant others) give them. Frankly, he says our gifts suck and that really we could satisfy our men better with two gifts that are free. FREE, he says.
Can you guess what those two gifts are ? No... well let me just tell you: "oral" as he puts it and "silence".
Now I must know, ladies and especially any gentleman lurkers now is the time to speak up, is that really what men want ?
If I refrained from ever buying hubby a gift , ever again and simply "performed" and gave him a little more peace and quiet (hell, I'll admit it I like to talk) he'd be satisfied. Really ?
I have to wonder because my hubby sure in the hell wasn't complaining about how he'd wished he'd gotten a hummer instead of his prized VW , or his favorite cologne that he even went so far as to paste a magazine ad on the refrigerator to make sure I remembered the name , or his car stereo. Hmmm...puzzling to say the least.
Thus I must know...have I been fooling myself all these years thinking hubby enjoyed his gifts - could I realistically be thousands of dollars richer had I listened to good old Ralphie.
Because it that really is all hubby wants then dammit I'll be quiet for the rest of my life.

The curse on Halloween...why that should be Illegal

Oh, the amount of chocolate I consumed last night. Frankly, I'm suprised it's not coming out of my pores this morning. Why surely if somebody cut me today I'd bleed brown. I think the KitKat and Reeses folks may send me a cut for increasing their stocks.
So it is for that reason, my rebelling belly and I feel we need to, yet again, write a letter to Aunt Flo and her band of hellacious hormone co-horts.

Dear Ms. "I think I'm funny":

How dare you pay me a visit on a holiday that revolves around chocolate and candy ? Are you trying to ruin me ? I've already had to buy an uh "garment" to keep the jiggling to a minimum but please don't forever mess with my psyche and make me have to purchase a mumu.
In closing, your timing is just bad. Please for the sake of my sanity do not even think about visiting me at this time next year.

Your friend until I hit Menopause,
WM

Dammit, I need to grow a pair

I was sitting peacefully, catching up on a little mindless television Sunday night enjoying a little me time when the phone rang. I half convinced myself to ignore it but thought better of it as I didn't want to miss out on any good gossip any friends or family might be privvy too.
Glancing at the caller ID, I stared at the name for a second thinking "I'm pretty sure I know this name....but I can't for the life of me think why". So I picked it up.
"Is this WM ?" the voice on the other end questioned.
"Yes, it is." I said
"This is Rita, Drew's mom from pre-school. Gosh, this is kind of odd calling you about this but..."
Uh-oh I thought as my stomach dropped. What did B say to Drew that I'm going to now spend the next few minutes of my former me time apologizing for ?

"Well my other job," she began "outside of preschool is with Mary Kay and I just got back from a weekend convention..."

Oh shit I thought desperately wishing one of the kids would wake up so I could politely excuse myself and end this conversation.

"... at this convention they issued a challenge for us to approach people we hadn't before and well their products are so wonderful and you're so pretty I immediately thought of you. Are you familiar with Mary Kay ? I just know you'd love the products."

And before I knew it I'd agreed to go to her house for a facial. When really I'd rather grate my eyeballs with a cheese grater.

I tried to think of something , some tactic to stall for time so that I could postpone this facial appointment until the end of time but nothing came. She was just so sickeningly sweet and while I knew it was simply a sales tactic , dammit, she called me pretty and actually managed to come off sounding genuine.

"Crap" I exclaimed as I went downstairs to complain to hubby.
He really had no words of wisdom because he knows I'm a sucker. He's told me before when I agreed to throw a Partylite party for a friend that I need be firmer and just straight out tell them I'm not interested. But when a friend ,that's simply trying to make a living, asks for my help I find it hard to just outright turn them down.

Yeah I know, I need to just grow a pair and tell them "Hell no what makes you think I'd be interested in some shit like that?"

But I didn't and I can't. What is wrong with me?

Wait a minute, perhaps I could shop eBay for a pair. Hmmm, how do you think those are listed anyway ? Scrot for sale, gnads for the needy, balls to the highest bidder...
I guess I'm not really sure but in the end could care less. Hell, as long as they can expedite shipping on those suckers I'm good. After all, Saturday is only a few days away.

For Rachel

I can't get you out of my mind. Your smile, your laugh, your warmth, your compassion. My heart aches for your little girl who is now motherless. For your mother who has now out lived her child. For a life cut way too short.

Goodbye my friend.

We'll miss you.

Inappropriately Funny

Pulling out of the parking garage at the park and ride yesterday I noticed the license plate frame of the car in front of me: "My other ride is" it began. Expecting it to say “ a Jag, or Viper” or some other ridiculously expensive car I almost didn’t continue reading because truthfully, I’m not sure I really get the point of that particular message on license frames. Ok,so you have another car, so what...

But no this one wasn't like that, it continued on to say “your mom”.

I’m pretty sure I guffawed (i've alway wanted to use that word. Whew, now I can check it off of my list of things I want to say before I die) because for some reason at that particular moment that was very funny.

I guess it's because I think "Yo momma" jokes are funny. There I said it.

Sure there are some “Yo momma” jokes, just like many other non "yo momma" jokes that are outright offensive. And I don't much care for offensive ...but I do likes me an inappropriate joke now and then.
Besides when I hear a “yo momma" joke, I just plain don’t associate them with my own mother…or anyone elses mother really…I simply appreciate them for being bold and creative in an inappropriate kind of way.

Hell, what is there really to get offended by ? I know full well that my mom is not so stupid she hears it's chilly outside so she gets a bowl.

Just like I know my momma is not so stupid when asked on an application, "Sex?" she marks, "M, F and sometimes Wednesday too."

C’mon you can’t tell me you didn’t snort a little when you read this?

So yeah I’m guilty of laughing at a joke or two that others may consider inappropriate, childish and maybe even stupid, but dammit some inappropriate things are just funny

Perhaps, one day I’ll get a wake–up call when B or J come home and ask Mom “Do you really model for trophies ?”

“What?” I’ll ask

"Well, little Petey Snotnose said to me today Yo momma so short, she models for trophies.”

Then I’ll have to explain, that what Petey Snotnose said was not nice and that we shouldn’t say mean things about other people.

Of course after that I will go in to the bathroom and howl… because , just like at the ripe old age of 2 when B uttered the word shitty, sure it’s inappropriate but even when it’s directed at me…it’s still funny.

When life imitates Art

As I sat and watched Indecent Proposal the other day I wondered why life isn't more like the movies. No, it's not so much the whole million dollars for adulterous sex with a billionaire scenario (although I must admit it is a bit tempting, Robert Redford in his day was very humpable...and something about loads of cash generally makes a man hotter but no that's not what I meant).
I'm talking about one scene in particular. I found myself enthralled by a scene in which the wife frustratedly runs around the house picking up clothes that her husband has lazily left on the floor. After launching a few of the items at her oblivious hubby she reaches her breaking point and swats him. They have a brief scuffle (her lashing out /him ducking for cover and trying to stop her), laugh and then begin tearing at each others clothes falling to the floor unable to get enough of one another.

It occured to me at that moment that it might be cool if real life played out that way.
Hell, I want to get all hot and bothered by hubby's inability to pick up his work uniforms. But really, all I get is annoyed.
I want to go all weak in the knees when he leaves dishes in the sink. But that only seems to piss me off.
Dammit I want to feel like dropping my drawers when hubby fails to put the toilet seat down. Aaah, that would be the life. Horniness brought on by my husbands inability to perform routine household chores.

Hmmm...on second thought maybe not.

Sure Indecent Proposal was a good movie and yeah that scene was kind of hot but there is a reason life doesn't imitate art.

If life were really like that I don't think I'd ever get off my back.

As if I wasn't obsessed enough with Blogging

I had to go and meet bloggers in real life. Sure I was nervous and sure I was late,I mean c'mon my kids had to figure out some way to make the hot chocolate when mommy couldn't be bothered because she was too busy trying to prepare herself for some serious scrutinzation by the Seattle MB Posse. So since Mommy couldn't be bothered, they decided they'd make it themselves, with tap water, in the bathroom sink. After cleaning up the mess, I headed out to the Method House about 30 minutes away. I was both excited and nervous as I walked up the walkway in my stiletto boots (uh picture stylish, not whorish). Just as I was about to knock, the door opened and I was greeted with "You must be Worker Mommy".
I can't tell you how funny it is to be addressed in real life by the moniker Worker Mommy. I quickly told her my first name and extended a hand.
And then she said it. She said I had to take off my boots. You see the house is one of five newly built, "green" homes and my boots were not safe on the bamboo floors. Dammit I thought I should have washed my feet. Ok, not really, of course I showered before going, but I did wish I would have sprung for that winter pedicure and now I was sans my security shoes (is it wrong that I'm attached to shoes that make me much taller than my lowly 5' 1'). I kind of wanted to turn around and run for the hills but then Jenny walked toward me. "I know you" she said greeting me enthusiastically with a big old hug. I'm a hugging kind of gal so I appreciated that and she is just incredible.
Long story short, I can't wait to hang with all of these women again( sorry for not giving more linky love...I'm just lazy like that, but know that I enjoyed you all). And don't even get me started on Mrs. Flinger. She is so freakin' funny I can't stand it. She actually made one blogger snort. And I love that with very little prodding from me, even after the Method folks started cleaning up the cocktails from the cocktail demo asked "how could we score another Mojito ?" I think it was at that moment I fell in love with her, well that and when she ever so gracefully and drukenly broke a glass. Hell I was just glad it wasn't me. Because any other time it probably would have been. Hey, you know it's not really a party untill somebody breaks something.
I wished I'd had more time to talk to more of these women. They were warm,funny, smart,easygoing and I felt like I'd known them for years.
At times, the noise level in that house was so deafening you would have thought there were hundreds of women rather than the 20 or so that were actually there. The conversation just flowed, there were plenty of to die for appetizers (it was all I could do not to inhale the whole spread), heavenly cocktails and most importantly schwag. We each left with a t-shirt (after divulging our "dirty secrets"...yes I confessed that there were a couple science experiments in my refrigerator) and cleaning products- which believe it or not actually made me excited to clean the next day (which I can say without a doubt is a first).
All in all, I'd say it was wildly succesful and really I'm just happy I didn't drink too much and start revealing my newfound affection for these woman by crying loudly to each and every one "I love you (wo)man".
Uh, not that that has ever happened before or anything.

The Big Reveal

Excitement, Excitement , Excitement (and well maybe a little nervousness too). Tonight at 8 p.m. yours truly will actually reveal herself to a group of Seattle bloggers. You see the folks at Method the environmentally friendly, "people against dirty" are sponsoring a cocktail party this evening and I will be amongst some very fine folks like her and her.

Did I say I was a little excited ?

Besides it's an excuse to go out and shop for something hip, and fun and I'm nothing if not all about shopping and new clothes.

I shall return Monday with hopefully delightful stories of learning about cool new products, chatting it up with the blogosphere elite and well sipping cocktails.

Ta for now my lovelies.

Uh and don't even think about hitting these bloggers up for the dirt on ol WM. I've already made them sign contracts in blood. *wink,wink*

Is this Corny ?

If you're reading this I'm assuming you're here because you may kinda like me a little (or here by accident...if thats the case go on your merry way...nothing to see here - I don't ever talk about spanking hubby, or hot mexican cleavage, or farting on demand or any of the other things that bring some of you crazy Google searchers here so move along)

Now then, may I ask you, my bloggy friends, a favor ?

You see I'm kind of known as the party planner around my workplace. It was one of those "other duties as assigned" that I've accepted and happily incorporated in to my job description. I pride myself on throwing a killer party - or at least as killer as a party can be in the workplace. Let see, there was virgin Margaritas and a mariachi band on Cinco de Mayo, catered foofy sit down "Holiday luncheon" in December and then there's Halloween.
Halloween is really big in my workplace and I just can't disappoint. It's always a potluck and employees always come in costume but it's the the theme and entertainment that they look forward to. In prior years, I've done a Fear Factor party a la the now cancelled television show where I made employees compete in three daring stunts for a prize, a Wheel of Torture party, for which hubby custom made a carnival style wheel, which employees spun landing on either , trivia , mystery or torture. Oh what fun it was to torture my co-workers.

But this year... I'm at a loss. You see I'm working on a new system implementation and all the related communications for benefits open enrollment which starts in 2 weeks, I'm preparing for salary increases, I've got the walk in folks that sometimes ask one question and then want to sit around and chat, I've got a 1 hour commute each way, evening classes for the twins, preschool jobs I'm responsible for, dinner to fix, a hubby to service, clothes to wash, blogging to do, a dog to walk, blogs to read....you know I'm a busy kind of gal (there now do you feel sufficiently sorry for me?)
That being said...please help, I need ideas for this years Halloween festivities. The best I could come up with is Guess the Character. As guests arrive we'd slap a nametag on their backs of a Halloween themed character. They have to ask others questions that can only be answered yes/no to determine who they are. The quickest three or four correct guessers will get a prize. Hmmm....too corny ?

Don't like it ? That's fine. I'm not entirely sure I do either. That being said it's fine to trash my idea all to hell but please, if you do leave me a better one in the comments.

*Disclaimer - I will claim your idea as my own. You will get no credit whatsoever. I mean really , I'm not that nice. I can't just tell the world that my bloggy friend came up with this idea. Where is the coolness in that? Besides then they'll want to know my blog address and then they'll read my archives and then they'll see that I've been known to blog when I should be working and then I'll get fired and then...C'mon do you really want to be responsible for me becoming unemployed? Then I'll have to be known as UM. Do you really want that on your conscience ?

Why my mama told me never to run in the house

Because being the illustration for kids everywhere on why not to put things in your mouth that you're not supposed to just wasn't enough...gather 'round, kiddies, because I'm about to tell you why you shouldn't run in the house.
I should have been enjoying an anniversary breakfast in bed, Saturday morning, instead I was trying to maintain my composure while my little man's two front teeth were pulled.
A head on collision with his sister Wednesday, which at the time seemed to result in nothing more than a lot of tears and a fat lip in reality, had destroyed his top front right tooth and loosened the top front left tooth.
When my mom called me at work to let me know B & J had collided I thought I'd asked all the necessary questions...but for some reason I just didn't think about his teeth actually becoming loose. Friday evening the tooth became discolored. Consulting Dr. Google gave me some hope the tooth might be able to be saved but the realistic part of me told me that I was likely only zoning in on the optimistic stories ....because I didn't want to face reality.
Bright and early Saturday I was on the phone with a new dentist (his normal dentist wasn't open. Hell, they didn't even respond to my panicked message left on Friday after hours). The staff was wonderful and were able to squeeze us in on short notice. This place was rather cool, it had a fridge stocked with beverages, a seperate waiting area for children complete with books and video games, each "patient" station has a dvd player and head phones so one can be pleasantly distracted before the horror begins (can you tell I'm not normally a fan of dentist office visits...).
So B, got to watch Tom & Jerry while sitting on his Daddy's lap just before they numbed his gums with a topical gel and proceeded to pull his teeth. Me...I tried my hardest not to cry and tried to joke with the staff about the crazy parents they must get in there.
But as soon as my baby started to cry and I saw the blood, I became one of those parents. I couldn't pick him up fast enough to console him and even though the dentist said she needed to put some ointment on his gums I demanded she do it while I was holding him and hugging him to me.

It was more traumatic for me then for him. It still is. I just can't stop feeling guilty and sad for him. Yes I know his permanent teeth will grow in in two years and 4 years down the road we'll say "remember when..." and laugh.

In the end, he's still got a darling smile, he raked in a ton of guilt presents ( you know the stuff you buy your kid to make them happy when you feel bad...uh yeah...don't judge)and "four green dollars" as he says it from the tooth fairy. So he's more than fine...that I'm sure.
In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he was plotting with his sister ( who also got Island Princess Barbie out of the deal) now to knock out some more teeth. *sigh*

On Love and Marriage

Seven years ago tomorrow I married the man who gets me like no other. The man who makes me laugh often. The man whose beautiful blue eyes still make me weak in the knees. The man with whom I share two of the most beautiful and amazing children and two that while not biologically mine I thank him for bringing in to my life. They are two of the most incredible young ladies. We’ve been through a lot you and I in the 11 years we’ve been together and though not every moment was the epitome of perfection we weathered it and have come out stronger for it.


We complement each other so well you and I. The introvert and the extrovert. The opposites. Each half of a whole. I smile when I think of how far we’ve come as people,as partners as parents and most importantly as a team.
I love you, hubby.

Happy Anniversary!

Hey you...yeah you with the big old Uterus

Because I totally heart Amy from Butrfly Garden&Brillig I’ve decided to show them some love by bringing you my very own gyno horror in honor of their one time only event

Beware, there is no telling what I may say as I’m currently under the influence of some pretty serious drugs of the cold medicine variety.

So here goes:

I’ve mentioned before that I think the sun rises and sets with my gynecologist. If I have to have someone all up in my lady bits I’d just as soon it be her. Wait that didn’t sound right...did I tell you I was in a cold medicine induced fog …ok good. So it's not my doc that's the problem here it was uh...well just keep reading.

After the birth of the twins I knew life would be chaotic and I wanted a form of birth control that I didn’t need to remember to take each day in order for it to work properly . A friend had just gotten the Mirena IUD and spoke highly of it. When I inquired about it with Dr. B she said yes it was becoming quite popular and just happened to be the choice of most of the female physicians in her practice (whom I love almost equally as much as Dr. B). I was overjoyed and made my appointment to get the IUD.

The day that worked best for me was a day Dr. B was unavailable, so I got on the schedule of a nurse practitioner I’d seen before.

When I arrived in the room I was given a pamphlet and told different risks like it might fall out (what tha ?), some men say they can feel it during intercourse (again, what tha), but that it was 99% effective and the hormone dosage was fairly low (ok, now you're talking). So I listened, signed the paper saying I understood and then prepared myself for the ,er, installation.

But before we could get started the nurse indicated she needed to measure my uterus as the Mirena was designed to fit uteri (yes, I know its not a word but doesn’t it just seem like it should be) 6 to 9cm.
Have you ever had your uterus measured? No? Well lets see…pull your top lip all the way over your computer monitor and then you’ll get the gist of what it feels like. It really hurts. While I can’t say I knew exactly what she was doing down there I know I felt lots of tugging and pulling kind of to the point where I wanted to kick her in the face. But I refrained…she was not the enemy. She was actually the one that was going to make it so that I could be more spontaneous with hubby and not have to worry about swallowing a pill each day on top of remembering everything that goes along with caring for newborn twins.
Be nice I tell myself.
Finally after what seemed like forever, she spoke
“11cm" she said "I just wanted to measure it twice to be sure. It looks like you’re not a candidate for the IUD.”

Damn, why didn't I kick her when I had the chance?

“Really?” was all I could muster.

“Yes,” she said. "Your uterus is just a little too big.”

“Darn twins” I mutter.

She proceeds to explain that it wasn’t necessarily because of the twins, that uterus size has nothing to do with the size of the woman. She says she sees women that are really large and have the smallest uteri (well I made it up, I gotta use it again) and woman that are petite with very large uteri. So there really isn’t any rhyme or reason.

Great ... wonderful I’m thinking. Can you please stop talking so I can put on my clothes and go down a bottle of painkillers for my whoo whoo .
When she began to talk other birth control methods with me, I tuned her out.

I’d.had.enough.

So with a quick, “Thanks, I’ll think about it and get back to you" I lugged my big ol uterus off the table, got dressed and went home.

It came out of nowhere and took over my body

I just want to curl up in bed with my warmest flannel pajamas, a cup of hot tea,shut off the thinking part of my brain and fill it with the overly dramatic and sappy programming of the lifetime movie network.
Yours truly is s-i-c-k. Scratchy throated, watery eyed,prone to frequent sneezing fits , head cloudy kind of sick. Oh woe, is me (cue violins).
Really, over the past several years I've been patting myself on the back because my "moms immunity" has allowed me to spit in the face of any illness that has tried to penetrate my supermom shield. Over the past four years I've been slobbered on, vomitted on,used as a human kleenex and managed to come out on top. But as it gets harder and harder to fight this death warmed over feeling I'm thinking I may need to succumb to this one.
Yes,this time I'm actually going to let myself be sick. I'm going to lie in bed while hubby fetches me whatever it is I need and simultaneously cares for the twins.
Besides, the Mr. owes me. He's the one that whined like a baby was sick last week and me being the loving,wonderful spouse that I am catered to his every need.
So I deserve it right? Hell, I may just decide to be sick for the next few weeks...
It might be the only way I'll catch a break.
And with that I shall commence my moaning and really settle in to this sickness mode.
Now if only my kids hadn't made parachutes and doll blankets out of the last box of kleenex...

A Monday that might actually be...Happy

Generally, Mondays suck for me. I don't enjoy having to work and Mondays... Mondays are just the beginning of the madness. While I enjoy what I do for a living, I simply don't enjoy that I have to do it five days a week 8+ hours a day. In my fantasy world I'm not required to work, I have a bazillion dollar wardrobe, a personal chef , a maid , a savings account that never drops below 1,000,000,000 a private jet, a....
Oh sorry, did I lose you ?

Ahem. Where was I ? Oh... Mondays.

After two days of sleeping in and enjoying , well not having to work, I really have a hard time getting back in to the swing of things. Yes it's only two days , but I can purposely forget a lot in two days.
So as my alarm went off at 5:30 this morning I quickly reached over, slapped the shit out of it hit snooze, and then dreamed of ways we could make things work financially with 4 kids and one income. Finally coming up with nothing truly feasible I got my lazy ass out of bed, got ready and drove down to the park and ride.

As I boarded the Sounder and saw how full it was I sighed and thought just another day of the grind. As I walked down the aisles I felt a tap on my arm. It was another passenger trying to get my attention in order to offer me his seat. I thanked him but politely refused thinking there were other passengers more in need of a seat than I. Before I could resist anymore he got up and gestured to the seat and said "Please".
Aah,chivalry is not dead. I smiled and decided to let that experience set the tone of my Monday.
So when I arrived at my stop I happily walked the nearly 16 blocks mostly uphill to work. It's amazing what one good deed will do.
Then I got in to the office, checked email and my eyes immediately went to an email entitled "A Plateful of Pleasure,
Diet Your Way to Better Orgasms ". Really ? I thought. Eating healthy and acheiving better orgasms. I just had to read it. Sure it was spam but they hooked me , as was their intention, with such an enticing title.

***TMI warning... please skip over this paragraph if me saying I don't have problems acheiving the big O but hell if I can have an even better one then I'm all for it is entirely more than you want to know about me.

and getting healthy to boot.I'm pretty sure it doesn't get any better than that. Chivalry and better orgasms...and it's only 8:51 a.m.

Yep, it's going to be one Happy Monday indeed.

Parenting other people’s children

I’ve never professed to be the perfect mom. In fact I don’t even think she exists. Besides, who defines perfection as it relates to parenting children. Who cares if dinner wasn’t comprised of the four food groups each and every night? Who cares if bedtime wasn’t at precisely 8:00 each night? There is no magic parenting manual and for every parenting manual out there, I guarantee there is another that disputes much of the material contained in the first manual. In my mind if I raise well mannered, compassionate, thoughtful and respectful young adults then I will have done a good job.

I also don’t hold other parents to unrealistically high standards . Before I had kids and heard a screaming child in a store I couldn’t imagine why the parent wasn’t “controlling” the child. Now that I have kids of my own I know the reality of it is that kids do that. And while yes it is up to the parent to try and correct certain behaviors sometimes she just really needs that one thing, and there is no one to watch her child while she runs to the store. So I try and cut that mom some slack. Because I’ve been there.
But what I refuse to try and understand and cut slack for is rudeness in children. Specifically, children that are old enough to know better.

Friday evening, as I was helping my son learn how to inline skate one of the little neighborhood girls who’d been playing with my kids for some time looks at me and says
“You should exercise.”

A little taken aback but not knowing where this was going I answered her honestly and said “I try to when I can.”

My honesty was rewarded with “You should lose some weight, then you can be skinny just like me”. Mind you this little girl borders on unhealthily skinny but I thought two things 1) WTF and 2) as she went on about how skinny and wonderful she was, she is an eating disorder waiting to happen.

I.was.shocked.

Sure I could stand to lose a few lbs. But that wasn’t the point. The point was that she actually uttered those rude, obnoxious comments. It took me a while to regain my composure. So I stood there for a moment silent.
Then I calmly asked this bold 9 year old “Eva, did anyone tell you that it’s rude to tell people they need to lose weight”

“No, I didn’t know” she replied.

“Well it is” I said and with that I told the twins it was time to go in. But of course I stewed on it. Several glasses of wine later and some ranting to my mom, my sister and my bff I was on the mend.

Then Saturday hit and we agreed to watch the son of a casual acquaintance. We’d initially been told it would only be for a couple of hours and when last, Jay, was over he was generally a well behaved child and the twins enjoyed playing with him.
Saturday,Jay was a terror.
On the way back from picking Jay up I asked hubby to stop by the store. Apparently Jay asked for everything. My husband, being the softie that he is, agreed to buy a six pack of yogurt drinks and even a toy for Jay (and B & J of course). When they arrived home Jay told me to tell my kids not to drink the yogurt drinks because he was taking them home. Then he proceeded to use up all the web “goo” in the Spiderman toy that hubby bought for B and wouldn’t give it back nor would he share the toy, that hubby bought him, with the twins.
He hogged the swing set- telling the twins they were not allowed to swing on it. When they were playing house he assigned the roles and told my daughter she could not play if she was not the mom. She wasn’t allowed to play the sister. He slammed doors in my children’s faces, took toys away from them, tried to pit them against one another, you name it he did it. Jay is 7.
Hubby and I both had to talk to Jay about good manners.
When his mom returned to pick him up, 6 hours later, she didn’t thank us or ask how Jay was. She grabbed him and pretty much took off.
Jay will not be returning.

I.simply.don’t.get.it.

Why was I forced to teach these children their behavior was not ok? Shouldn’t those basic teachings have come from the parent?
I teach my kids that good manners are important. I teach them that rudeness is not ok. I try and teach them that sharing and playing nice with others is fun.

No I am not the perfect parent and I don’t profess to be

But heed my advice - Teach your child basic courtesy, basic manners and respect.

Because if I have to parent your children, you may not like what they come home saying about you.

An update on my mom & a shameless ploy to win a vacuum

Wow, ever since the stroller giveaway I've gotten all kinds of commercial chez Because I must Blog. I promise a "real" post soon but please indulge me while I get just a wee bit "commercial" yet again.

I just found this at 5 Minutes for Mom.

A Dyson Vacuum Giveaway. I mean c'mon who doesn't want a Dyson ? Ok, Ok, maybe it really is just me that secretly dreams about one of these super-powered vacs but dammit I have a very furry canine,two little ones and one not so little one that all like to leave crumb trails in their wake.

Now I'd go out and purchase one but sadly somehow I just can't find the extra $400 in the budget for this item.

But if I did have it, this vacuum would be at the top of my list. This particular Dyson is pink and $40 from each sale goes towards funding Breast Cancer research.

As many of you know, my very own mother was diagnosed in October of last year. Over the last 11 months she underwent a bilateral mastectomy, chemotherapy and radiation and I'm happy to report she's doing well. We're not out of the woods yet, but each day that passes we get closer to that 5 year mark in which she can be considered officially cancer free.

My mother means the world to me and I want to support her in every way I can. As such I've become more of an advocate for Breast Cancer awareness and education and have done what I can financially to support the cause.
I urge you to do the same. Even if its the purchase of the specially marked pink tic tacs or the pink water bottle please consider purchasing pink to support the cause.
And if you're rollin in the dough go out and get yourself a Dyson at Target.

But do something! Take action so we can ultimately eradicate this horrible disease.

Now, I shall step off my soapbox and sit and wait patiently for my name to be drawn for that kick ass vacuum. *wink*

And the Winner is...

Drumroll please...


Phunkymama1


Congratulations, Katie, you are the winner of the premier Ct 0.1 stroller from Chicco.
Thanks to everyone that entered and came up with such creative names. I wish I had a stroller for all y'all. You deserve it. There is still time to head over to Chicco's 30 Strollers in 30 days giveaway site but hurry you must enter by September 30th.

Also thanks to random.org for helping me select a contest winner (try it out for your next contest...it's nifty)

I'm Scurred

Cause I don't bare my soul enough on this here blog I just had to join in the fun here (thanks Mamma for showing me the way).

I was initially tempted to pick dare because it just sounded generally easier and a little less risky. But then I imagined that she might actually ask me to like post a picture of myself or she might have me run naked through the streets of Seattle yelling "I picked dare, I picked dare" . Naw, not for me.

So I strayed and picked truth. Only now I'm scurred.

Is she going to ask me if I've ever farted in public (uh yes and it was during a new hire orientation at work - I wanted to die).
Will she ask me if I've ever fed my children candy for dinner (why yes I have, uh not intentionally though, I let them have it before dinner -duh!- and of course they weren't hungry later).
Or dear lawd, she may even ask me if I've ever stolen (yes, when I was a little juvenile deliquent,about 14, I stole some t-shirts and other stuff I didn't need -I can't even remember what-from a neighborhood store. I thought I was so clever in my thieving techniques. I paid for one thing and had the rest stuffed in my bag. I figured they wouldn't dare think I was stealing if I actually paid for something. I was stopped just before exiting and asked if I was going to pay for the rest of the stuff. "What stuff?" I faked ignorance. "All the stuff in your bag". Shit I remember thinking. Do I run or admit I did it, hmmm. In the end I gave the stuff back and was let off with a warning "If I ever see you in here again I'll call the cops" he yelled and I hightailed it outta there and didn't look back)

Wait, that was quite a bit of embarassing truth I just revealed...scurred, smurred.

Bring it on.

And y'all better head on over there too and then come back and tell me what you picked.

I'll be waiting.

Smooches,
WM

My dear guests, I am your host Mr. Roark, welcome to Fantasy Island

When I wasn't dreaming up ways to commit mole-icide,rejoicing in the fact that Vera Wang is down with the po' folk and is debuting her new affordable fall line at Kohls, or enjoying the first few days of preschool with the twins you may have caught me , ass glued to my couch ,watching re-runs of Fantasy Island.

I have a little confession to make. I freakin' love that show. It was my Friday night thing as a kid in the 80's. I waited a whole week to see what new and exciting fantasies the guests would request. And then one day it just disappeared. I hoped it would come out on video. I looked everywhere to no avail and as I got older my fascination with the show grew. When it didn't show up on DVD or cable's TVland network I resigned myself to never seeing Mr. Roark and never hearing the words 'The plane, the plane' muttered in Tattoo's familiar french accent ever again.
Until several weeks ago. I was searching through the cable On Demand feature menu and I spotted it. Furckin Fantasy Island. I was geeked. So I sat and I watched and it was as entertaining as I remembered. Aah good old Mr. Roark with his sexy accent and element of mystery and lovable goofy Tattoo. The sheer joy I experienced as I watched F.I. in all its '70's glory was indescribable. What can I say I'm easy to please.

So I watched and I watched until I'd gone through all of the episodes.

Then it occured to me , these guests spent $50,000 to live out their fantasies but ultimately never did. Mr. Roark always had to throw in a little twist. A lesson of sorts. Like the episode where the nerdy teacher, who spends most of his life unnoticed by women, asks to be a sheik and have a harem. Mr. Roark arranged the fantasy, having this teacher replace a "real life" sheik but failed to mention to this poor sap that the sheik was wanted dead. If I was that sap I'd be thinking Uh-uh no you di-in set me up to be killed and then I'd insist on getting my 50 large back.
But if anyone could pull it off, Mr. Roark could. He had that way about him... you know as if to say "Look you greedy bitches you can't have it all." Ha! It doesn't get any cooler than that.

Yep, I lurves me some Fantasy Island.

What show does it for you?

I don't even know what the hell to call this post -signed Frustrated

There is an evil mole hanging out in his tunnel somewhere in the depths of my front yard plotting against me. He made his presence known Monday evening and has continued to taunt me every day since that time with a new molehill. Each one bigger than the next.
My quest for the perfect June Cleaver lawn is dying a horrible death at the hands of this mole.
Never have I wanted to do violent things to an animal but I'm feeling it. I'm feeling it now. I'm thinking of ways I can ruin his little mole world.
But he's smart this little sucker, he only shows himself when I'm away at work. He's probably laughing at me now, silently plotting his attack for tomorrow.
And I , well I just sit here and blog about it.
You've won this round evil mole, but I fully intend on Googling ways to destroy your ass as soon as I can tear myself away from this blog.

Uhh and if anyone has any experience with making these little suckers go far far away you'll have an extremely indebted, but much more sane bffl (best friend for life)

How big of a sleeping bag does your horse need ? **Updated

****Updated w/pictures, blurry pictures, but pictures nonetheless

Saturday night I had without a doubt the most unique overnight guest. Or guests shall I say - there were two of them. Two cute little ponies spending the night. In.my.backyard.

No I don't live in the country, I live in a normal residential area several miles south of Seattle in a well populated city.

My guests were very well behaved I might add. They even went so far as to mow my lawn. Er, eat it , I mean. And fertilize it too. Alot. Big round steaming piles of fertilizer. For as small as my equine guests were they sure dumped quite a load.

Did they just crash the party you may be asking ? Nope they were invited, only I thought they'd be leaving instead of hunkering down at the house o' Worker Mommy. Here's how it all went down. Those of you that having been reading my blog for sometime know that my oldest stepdaughter, TomGirl scored a job at the pony place where the twins had their 4th birthday party.
Saturday night I had my bff and her family over to celebrate her daughters upcoming birthday. TomGirl suggested we call Sarah,her boss, and see if she'd bring a pony as a present for my bff's daughter.
Sarah came and brought not one but two ponies for free. So of course we fed her and thanked her profusely and well maybe we loosened her up with a beer or two. And being the responsible adult she is, she didn't want to drive home.
So there you have it, she, her son and Izak and Kip, my pony pals, all crashed at my house Saturday evening.
I can't tell you how cool odd it was to wake up, look out my window and see horses munchin' on my grass.
That was truly one for the record books.

My son B, Sarah (the pony owner) and of course the pony

J, Sarah and Sarah's son (notice the yawn), leading the ponies home in the morning

Don't hate me, I succumbed but I did it all for you... A Chicco Stroller Giveaway

*my very own blog contest (winner gets a free stroller) coming up so keep reading,purty please

Oh the pressure. I never intended for this blogging thing to be anything more than an outlet, a means of cheap therapy,a tool to help me maintain my sanity in the chaos that is my life.
Slowly it became more.
I've met all sorts of wonderful blog friends - moms , dads, people,incredible people with a lot of amazingly brilliant, funny and poignant things to say and it's meant more to me than you'll ever know. And that in a nutshell is what blogging has done for me. Blogging for me was never a moneymaking tool or a means to gain freebies. So when I was contacted by a company about promoting their new product I wasn't really going to consider it.
But then I remembered back to when I became pregnant and nine weeks later found out I was having two babies and then eight weeks later experienced complications and landed on bedrest for four full months. Not being able to work full time led to financial difficulties. Luckily family and friends came through for us offering meals, purchasing baby supplies and gear and emotional support. And I truly appreciated that.
Enter Chicco, the Italian infant and toddler toy and gear company with their new "fancy pants lance" Ct 0.1 premier stroller. From September 1 through September 30 they are giving away one Ct 0.1 stroller a day. No strings attached, you simply fill out a survey and you'll be entered to win.


And if you're feeling lucky enter my very own blog contest. One lucky winner will get a Ct 0.1 stroller of their very own. Paraphernalia for infants/toddlers is not cheap and while maybe you've already been there and done that perhaps you know of someone in need. Enter on behalf of a friend/neighbor/community member in need.

The contest: Ct 0.1... that's kind of a boring name isn't it ? Leave me a quick comment with what you think the name of this bad ass stroller really should be and you'll be entered to win. Entries/comments must be posted by 09/21/07 4:30 PST . One winner will be selected at random.

Enjoy, spread the word if you want to and most importantly good luck.

Discovering new trash to pervert my mind

I took the day off work yesterday to do the last of the "pre" preschool readiness activities but never wound up making it.

When I picked up the twins from FMCP's the night before my son B was coughing,sneezing,sniffling and generally feeling miserable. I assumed a good nights rest would have him feeling better in no time but night time rest really wasn't in the cards as it turned out.
His cold medicine slumber lasted about 6 hours and then he was up and wired unbeknowst to me until I found him down in the pantry at 4 a.m. with fruit snacks in hand and toothbrush laying beside him.
"Whatcha doin ?" I asked trying hard not to laugh
"I got some fruit snacks... but I'm gonna brush my teeth afterwards" he said picking up the toothbrush and waving it at me.
I chuckled and said "you need to get back in bed it is late"
"Ok, after I finish my snacks".
But then he didn't go to sleep, not until 5 a.m. and then he was out. So I let him sleep.
By the time he woke back up around 8:30 a.m. the congestion and such had set back in so I knew I'd never make it to the parent workshop.
So I resigned myself to a day at home. I made him comfortable,set J up with some of her favorite toys and activities and then sat down to rest and watch a little tube.

I now know why daytime tv gets a bad rap. Because daytime tv is utter trash. And what's with the court shows ? It would appear that each network has about six of these shows. When I was growing up there was only one. Good old Judge Wapner. Now there's Judge Judy,Judge Alex,Judge Cristina and Judges Curly ,Moe and larry. Its crazy !
If you haven't seen these shows let me tell you they are pure DRA -MA. Sisters cracking each other over the head with beer bottles, roommates needing to tie one another up with bed sheets to prevent the other from trashing the house while in a mushroom induced haze. Ordinary people airing their dirty laundry in front of the world. Who does that ?

Oh Wait. I do. On this blog. Just about every day.

HA, no wonder I found those shows so wickedly appealing. Uhh...in a train wreck kind of way that is.

Here a booty , there a booty , everywhere a ...

We've reached that age. That age where all my kids want to talk about is their bootys. (And,er, the things that come out of them)

For several weeks now just saying the word "booty" sends them in to fits of laughter. And they say it often. Now really I'm not that up in arms and maybe I even snorted a little when they were in the backseat telling one another they had stinky bootys but they are headed to preschool in two weeks and I don't want to be that mom.

You know the one that the other moms smile politely at but then whisper behind perfectly manicured nails "There's the one who has the twins that are always talking about their um hind parts. What is she teaching them ?"

No,nope don't want to be her.

But maybe it's inevitable - because as hard as I've tried telling the twins that their "booty" conversation isn't proper that simply makes them want to say it more.

So I'm preparing myself for the notes I will likely get:

Dear bad mother Ms. Mommy:
It has come to our attention that your children have an odd fascination with their behinds. In fact they talk about them constantly and now have other children doing the very same thing. We're not sure what in the hell you're teaching your children at home requesting that you speak with them as soon as possible and review what is proper and what isn't in the preschool setting.

Best of Luck,
All the moms that are far more superior to you
Co-op Board


*sigh* I can't wait.

Top 5 Reasons you should limit your Toddlers' exposure to your Teenagers

5)Your teenager will insist on calling your toddler "Fitty Cent" . For a while it's cute (hell you even made jokes about it) but then you realize he's begun to tell everyone his name is Fitty Cent, which will cause you to have to launch in to an explanation of a story that typically has people horrified and wondering why you are making light of it.

4)Your toddler will overhear a jokingly sarcastic interaction between teenager and Dad in which teenager asks father to get something for her. Dad asks teenager what the magic word is and teenager says "Now" (rather than the expected "please"). Your toddler will save that in her memory bank for the next time she asks Dad to get her milk. But when your toddler does it she will put her own spin on it and scream "NOW".

3)Your teenager's obsession with WWE will have your toddlers running around shouting John Cena at the top of their lungs because teenager thinks it's funny and requests it all the time.

2)You will find yourself becoming a broken record continually repeating the phrase "Your little sister and brother look up to you, please set a good example for them". It will always fall on deaf ears. You'll sigh in frustration.

and the number one reason to limit your toddlers exposure to your teenagers

1) When you ask your toddler if he needs a jacket for the day so he doesn't get cold he'll respond "Dude,I'm fine with nothing"

If the birds are a chirpin' don't come a slurpin'

I remember when I first met hubby. We were like rabbits. I mean I seriously couldn't get enough of him. I remember sitting at my call center job more than 11 years ago daydreaming about hubby and the things we might do to one another later that night. I had an extremely high sex drive and hubby being the typical male had one to match. I miss those carefree days of getting naked at a moments notice and playing a little grab ass for hours on end. Sleep ...we don't need no stinkin' sleep. I'm in it to win it.

But, several years and several kids later, things are just a tad different. Let me start by saying while my desire for hubby has not waned my energy level sure in the hell has. Particularly shall we say in the morning. Let me say it out loud so there is no mistaking. I DO NOT like sex first thing in the morning. I really don't get it. Yes, I know that most men are "at attention" shall we say first thing in the morning. But surely, my finger-in-a-light-socket hairstyle and morning breath would fix that little problem. What's that you say - I should get up and brush my teeth and fix my hair. What's the point ? By then I'm up and if I'm up I need to be getting ready for work or fixing breakfast, or tending to little ones. Mornings at the Worker Mommy estate do not lend them selves to quality lovemaking . And while a quickie every now and then is ok, I'm nothing if I'm not all about the quality loving.

When I question hubby's rationale for waking me up at o'dark thirty for a little mattress mambo I truly believe that somewhere in the depths of his mind he thinks I'll come around. To which I say with utter defiance - not likely! Catch me in the afternoon, catch me just before bed, hell, wake me up in the middle of the night with a nice round of foreplay at least then I'll know I can get a few more winks of beauty rest before I have to get up at the ass crack of dawn to face the perils of work.

So hubby, my parting words to you are this, tread very lightly when it comes to a.m. lovin. The next time I feel that familiar poke and/or the familiar boob grab while slurpin on my neck and the birds are simultaneously chirping don't be pissed if all you get in return is loud snoring or are met with the stinging of a king size pillow smack dab on the side of your cheek.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Padded Cell here I come

As you may have noticed I've been MIA for the last two days. Aah, it was glorious. A much needed Worker Mommy mental vacay.
Then today I returned to work to find that EVERYONE is quitting. Seriously, everyone ! Well...I maybe be stretching the truth a bit but a high level director, a lower level manager and my co-worker here in HR have all decided to fly the coop.

I'm pretty sure Armageddon is next.

And this is now the point where I will reveal how truly selfish I am.

Fuckity , Fucking fuck. Oh the timing. My coworker was hired two years ago when it was determined that there was too much work for my boss and I to handle. I gladly offloaded multiple duties hoping never to see,hear or speak of them again. But now I have to take those duties back -the ones I had chosen specifically because I was severely burnt out on them.

AARRGH !That really chaps my ass!

And come next month I will have a job outside of my daytime gig. Or two jobs rather. The twins will be returning to preschool. And said preschool just happens to be a co-op. Why on earth would a full time work-outside-of-the-home-mom choose a co-op ? Glad you asked. Well, frankly the teacher is simply amazing! She is incredibly patient, nurturing and loving and has taught at the same preschool for 28 years. 28. Did you hear me ? I said 28 years....teaching 2,3 & 4 year olds. I bow down to her. Sure I pay a little extra tuition to enable me not to have to work during class but I'm still required to hold two school jobs. Not one but two, because I have two children enrolled. Then there is the fundraising,the all school meetings, the Saturdays spent helping clean the school and the monthly parent education classes associated with the school...my mind is starting to disintegrate into goo.

So my lovelies, I may be a sporadic blogger at best over the next few weeks.

I'm reading you all, I really am... but commenting,yeah, not so much.

Just know I'm loving you and sending you huge cyber smooches.

Exhaustedly signed,

WM (aka drama queen)

Holy Hell Batman, did I wake up back in High School?

What good would a 100th post be if not filled with scandal?

My intention was to have a fairly casual bbq for hubby's b'day festivities , but as I knew I'd be drinking I felt it best to arrange for the twins to stay at my mom's that way they wouldn't be emotionally scarred by seeing their parents as drunken slobbering fools too disturbed by loud music and would be able to enjoy a "g" rated evening.

I was still cooking as guests began to arrive. (Well, I don't know if you could call it cooking so much as attempting to cook while drinking wine and thus causing my homemade potato salad to become much more of a mashed potato salad. But I later realized drunk people will eat just about anything as was apparent from the men perched on stools at the end of the evening with faces practically swimming in potato salad). It didn't take long for the the madness to begin as testosterone quickly filled my house. We women were clearly outnumbered.
But, one particular highlight was the debut of Hubby's friend, the fisherman's, new girlfriend. Was she ever cleave-alicious. This woman had cleavage for days. My son could have gotten a heck of a lot of toys in there.

As the evening went on and more spirits were imbibed I just couldn't resist talking about new girlfriends cleavage. The conversation went downhill from there.
Hubby's sex starved friend Ripple, in his infinite wisdom thought it would be fun to hit on new girlfriend and at some point during the night ,although I didn't see it- hubby did,Ripple wound up with his head buried deep in new girlfriends cleavage. Apparently new girlfriend began to flip out when she realized she'd been caught and said "I don't know what I'm doing please don't tell fisherman...I'm too drunk" and disappeared.

Oh the scandal. It's kind of reminiscent of the crazy parties one might have in high school...oops I mean college. I was never, ever doing such things in high school.

I have yet to find out if fisherman found out that the new girlfriend was sharing her goodies - but you can be damn sure I will.

And that, my friends, was my weekend. The party to end all parties. Seriously, I don't think I can have any more parties like that. My liver will not survive.

But I am kind of giving myself props because all the cool kids were talking about it Monday at school.

Read it Now- my 99th Post

Whoa, can you believe it ? Time flies when you're having fun. This is really my 99th post and I've only been blogging since March. In honor of this post I will not write anything brilliant (as if I could ) , or witty (not sure about that either), I think I just want to be random. All the cool kids have done a "random thoughts" post. And let it be known that I can hang w/the cool kids.

So here goes:

Do I feel any saner ? Is this blog in fact helping me to preserve my sanity one post at a time. Hmmm...
While I'm not sure about that I do feel lucky as I've made some of the coolest e-friends ever.
I think it'd be rather nice to make your acquaintance in normal life (said a la Anthony Hopkins in Silence of the lambs)

Hmmm do I buck tradition and not do the 100 things for my 100th post. Does anybody really care ? I know this will keep me awake tonight. NOT.

Mom's last radiation treatment is tomorrow! Whoot! She is done with her treatments. She will have to take a hormone blocker for 5 years but by the grace of GOD, I hope we will have seen the last of this nasty, filthy, stinky, dirty, cotton pickin cancer! She's got a nice smattering of peach fuzz and is soon to be cleared for new boobies so she's excited and I'm excited for her!

I'm off tomorrow to clean and stuff and things, we're throwing a b'day bash for hubby. So if you don't see me around Blogistan Monday it's because I'm in a drunken stupor...still.

That's it, Farewell. Thanks for listening. Happy 99th to me and

I'm out!

Wishing you lovely weekends,

WM

We take all Major Credit Cards and Checks w/2 forms of ID

On the way home from work yesterday afternoon I stopped by the gas station. I decided rather than paying at the pump I would go in to the convenience store as it was rather warm and I wanted to grab some bottled water.
No sooner had I unbuckled the twins from their seats had J leapt out and began to admire the shoes of the woman pumping gas on the opposite side of us.

"You have very pretty shoes" J said "I really like the the shiny jewels".

"Thank you" the woman said

Not missing a beat "J continued "Ohh and you have pretty orange polish on your toenails" and then B stepped up and said "I'm a superhero"

My kids are very friendly and can be very chatty. (I have no idea where they get that.) Usually when they do this I'll let them say hi and then quickly move them along so as not to annoy the person they've decided to chat with. This lady was engaging though, and told J she needed to redo her polish and asked B what kind of superhero he was so I let them continue to chat her up.

"They're so cute" she said to me.

What a nice woman for engaging the kids I thought. As much as I like kids, if I was on my way home and it was hot and I got bombarded by a couple of unknown kids I might be a little dismissive. But she wasn't and I appreciated that.
As quickly as these thoughts were flowing through my mind I watched the lady get in to her car while one of the twins was still talking. No "ok bye " , no "yeah right gotta go".

WTF!? Ru -hude!

Seconds later she reappered waving a $5.00 bill at me.

"They're so sweet " she says "Here, go get them some ice cream or something"

Shocked as this is a true first for me I said " That's VERY nice of you but I can't take it"

"I insist" she says more persistently waving the bill at me.

"Ok, you don't have to tell me twice" I joked and took the five from her. "Wow, thanks, that is really very nice of you. Kids make sure you tell the nice lady thank you"

With several thank yous from the twins we headed off in to the store when another thought popped in to my head.

"B & J, who else do you think has nice shoes around here ?"

Huh, cute little kids complimenting people can actually cause people to dole out cash. I could make a career out of this.

Maybe there is something to this concept of pimpin your kids...

Pimpin' my daughter for Coffee

Kellie,Kellie,Kellie what are you thinking?

Yes, it's another post in which I feature a news story . But this one is different. I know this woman. She is the ex-wife of one of hubby's good friends and someone I've spent time with.

I'll give, Kellie credit for being an entrepreneur and doing something to jump start her business that wasn't initially succeeding. As a 36 year old woman she's entitled to wear lingerie while serving coffee. If that's what she chooses to do. She's an adult. Key word adult. She can make her own decisions. What disturbs me is the fact that she features her 16 year old daughter ,in provocative clothing, on the signs advertising her business and has her daughter selling coffee clad only in her bikini.
I've heard Kellie comment that "it's nothing different then what she wears to the beach". Perhaps not. But the circumstances under which her daughter appears in her bikini make all the difference in the world.
Adorning your 16 year old in her beach attire to sell a product and/or entice customers is objectifying her and sexualizing her for the purposes of your own profit.
I have to wonder if she truly thought this out.

I'm half tempted to head there today, even though I haven't seen her in several years and shake the piss out of her and ask her what her motivation was.

Because I really gotta now, what on earth would cause you to pimp your daughter out for coffee?

Well, we are passionate about our music here in Seattle

For some reason this story is thoroughly amusing me.

A little frightening yes, but amusing too.

My Children are Pervs

We've always been up front with B and J when they started to become curious about body parts. While hubby wanted to find "alternative" names for their privates I opted for the real thing so as to avoid any confusion later. So it's been established for some time that B has a "penis" and J has a "gina" (we did shorten it for ease in pronunciation) which was important because the twins have always taken baths together and thus were curious about the difference in the way one another's privates looked.

Bathing the kids together began as an "easier for mom kind of thing". Then I realized they preferred taking baths together as having a bathtime companion made for more fun, splashing and giggles and so it continues on to this very day.

Last night, I put them in the bath ,took care of washing them and then let them have play time. I left the bathroom briefly to grab more towels when I heard all sorts of giggling. Even more than normal.

"What's so funny ?" I ask as I head back towards the bathroom.

"We're putting... on B's peen" was all I heard.

Now my son has done some silly things as it relates to his penis. He once figured out that it would fit perfectly in a little mini mug that we got from a gumball machine - which I've captured on film and may show to his future wife dependent on how he treats me during his teen years.
But I digress.

As my son has done some ,er, interesting things involving his privates I hurried back in to the bathroom to see what all the fuss was about. I walk in to both kids lying on their backs and J's got both her feet in B's groin area squishing his penis between them. And they both think this is hysterical.

"Uh Guys" I said not wanting to make them feel dirty "I know the game seems like fun but really you shouldn't be putting your feet on B's privates J. Remember they are his privates and so J you really shouldn't be touching them"

"Ok," they both said

...so much for my lazy parenting. I guess it's time for two seperate baths now.

*sigh*

Sometimes things do work in my Favor

Beginning this Friday, the WDOT is closing down several lanes of I-5 for 19 days while they do repairs. I haven't bothered to investigate why this work couldn't be done during the early morning hours when we working folk aren't in the midst of our commute because I have to believe they know what they are doing and aren't about to cause the worst traffic delays in the history of (wo)man for no reason.

Herein lies my dilemma. I live South of Seattle and while I don't get on I-5 for my 30 mile commute to Seattle I imagine my little back roads will now be cluttered with the commuters that are avoiding the I-5 madness. What to do ?

As I started to get very frantic and want to quit my job for the 750th time since I had kids my boss flew in with her superwoman cape and told me I was welcome to work from home and/or adjust my schedule accordingly.

What tha ? Did she just say I could work from home ?

"Ok, I'd appreciate that" I said calmly but as soon as she left I closed my door and did a jig!

Whoot! Does she know what she just did ?

19 day party at the Worker Mommy Estate. I'll provide jello shots.

Who's with me ?

I've been Nab'd

I love getting something for nothing.

Warning: Female ranting ahead, you might want to head to the next blog if you're male

Today was the dreaded annual appointment. You know the one. The one in which you fix your eyes on a part of the ceiling while the doctor makes small talk and checks out your lady bits.

Yeah, that one.

And in so much as I dread the appointment I do really like my doctor.
She's brilliant. She was the one that at 17 weeks discovered the problems with my cervix and quickly moved in to action so as to be able to save my pregnancy. She's this tiny little dynamo. I remember how sweet she was as I balled when she told me I'd have to go on 2 months of bedrest in the hospital. This was after being on 2 months of bedrest at home.
So I really just think the sun rises and sets with her as far as doctors go. But that still doesn't mean I feel comfortable with anybody taking a long drawn out look down there and the other delightful things that go along with that exam.
Fortunately,it went quickly and we could move on to more comfortable things. Like preventing a second set of twins or a singleton for that matter.

I've had an aversion to pills with higher hormone dosages because I thought they made me gain weight. But as I've come to realize and verbalized to Dr. B, it really had nothing to do with the pills, I was turning in to fattycakes all on my own .
So what the hell, bring on the pills! And if I'm going back to pills I'm going for the big guns. Yes, Seasonale. I'm stopping that dreaded AF (Aunt Flo) in her tracks. Dr. B thought it would be a great choice, tells me they now have a generic available, that I'm protected on the first day I start taking the pill and sent me off with a prescription.

Well, boyhowdy it just doesn't get any better than that I think as I head off to the pharmacy. 10 minutes later they call my name and I'm all set to pay until the Pharmacist Assistant says "Were you expecting this cost ?" and points to the receipt.

$127.80 it reads.

"$127-motherfuckin'-80 are you kidding me? "(well I really didn't say that but I wanted too)

He explained that it's 3 months worth and insurance just doesn't cover that much of this pill.

Frickity, frack, fuck. What am I gonna do now?

So an embarassed me says I really wasn't prepared for that cost and I'd have to think about it and get back to them.

I mean do I want to be spending $127.80 every 3 months or $511.20 per year simply to see less of AF ?

It is tempting because I really don't care for that be-atch

But hmm ,lets see I could just go on regular pills pay a $15 co pay each month and spend the $300 I'll have saved on clothes,liquor, therapy, liquor, several hundred boxes of chocolate, liquor,downpayment on a hitman for AF, liquor... you know those kinds of things.

Because anything I might post today would sound like incoherent rambling

I'm beyond exhausted. It's been a long busy week here at work and equally as busy at home and my body recognizes its Friday and has decided to shut down.

So rather than trying to formulate a post and have it come off as an unintelligible mess (I know you're probably asking how that is different from any other posts I've written) I'll leave you with a picture. When the twins were 9 months old we had a photographer come to our home and shoot the kids in several different outfits with several different props. This turned out to be one of my faves.



Dontcha just love chubby babies ? I want to munch on their little fat rolls. Yeah I know I'm weird like that.

Ta for now and please , my lovelies, have delightful weekends!

Um, Are you gonna Stalk us Now ?

Last week I emailed a woman about some cute items I'd found on Craigslist for J. She said she had some out of town company coming and that she was sorry she wouldn't be available for me to come and pick them up until Monday.

Fine, I emailed. I was in no hurry and told her Wednesday would be ideal for me. She was fine with that and gave me her address. Great, I emailed back. I'll see you then. Wednesday after work, the twins and I drove to her house and knocked on the door.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Oh yes, I'm WM and I emailed about the butterfly hooks"

"Oh yes" she said, "Just a sec and I'll go grab them"

She reappeared with the hooks I handed over the cash,thanked her and headed towards my car. But then it began. The incessant talking. And that's saying a lot for me because I am a self confessed chatty Cathy. But the difference between her and I is that I try and be in tuned to people's body language and facial expressions and thus know when to shut the hell up.
But not her.
She told me all about her elderly constipated dog, her homeschooled children and the fact that she homeschooled them because there were little boys calling the girls "women" at the public school they were attending.

"I mean I wouldn't want to be called that,"she said "At least not in the way they meant it"

So as I'm trying to figure out how the word woman or women can be used derogatorily she's moved on to how her kids know how to socialize with all ages and how they spent their day at the lake, and that she has a playground in her back yard and we can sit on the porch and have coffee while the kids played together.

You know I'm all for play dates and meeting new friends but typically I like to have just a few things in common with someone before I start committing to play dates and hanging out for coffee. And we'd really not had the opportunity to talk about much. I mean I didn't anyway.

The whole time I'm trying to make my escape she just kept chattering on about her garden, her bushes and all the landscaping she'd done and I'm thinking damn my kids haven't had dinner yet. So I call to them and of course they don't want to go because the "older girl and boy have a Lightening Mcqueen skateboard and a scooter." But,after much convincing I finally got them to say their goodbyes and was able to make my escape.

But then this morning , I come in to this email:

S,
It was so nice meeting you and your twins today (J and B, right?). They are so cute :) Maybe we could find a time in the next couple weeks to get together and let the kids play. Here, your house or even a park somewhere or even at the lake. I'm glad J liked the butterfly hooks. Now my girls are bugging me to get their new hooks up (they needed more space). Anyway, have a great evening. Hope to see you again soon.
Vicki

Sure the email was nice but I really want to cut her off at the pass. I'm pretty sure I'd rather scratch my eyeballs out then spend the afternoon with her listening to her go on and on and on and on. I told her we were very busy this month but perhaps next month. I didn't want to be a total bitch but I also didn't want to encourage her.

So I just have to hope that between now and then she'll get an email from some other unsuspecting victim person wanting to buy some of her stuff and then she'll have a new BFF to talk about her constipated dog with and I'll be off the hook.