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"
Friday, August 31, 2007
Monday, August 27, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, August 24, 2007
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)
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)
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
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 beemotionally 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.
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
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.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
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
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
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
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...
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...
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
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?
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
Because I really gotta now, what on earth would cause you to pimp your daughter out for coffee?
Monday, August 13, 2007
Thursday, August 9, 2007
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*
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*
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
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 ?
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 ?
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Monday, August 6, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, August 3, 2007
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!
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!
Thursday, August 2, 2007
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 unsuspectingvictim 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.
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
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Grandma-isms
After reading Sugar Kane's post today I was inspired to write about my very own grandma.
She's seen and done a lot in her 77 years and has much wisdom to impart on the younger generation. Wisdom, I just love hearing.
But what I love even more is to hear the incredibly entertaining stories my mom tells. To hear my mom tell it, my grandma was quite different then the quiet,sweet, gentle woman I know today.
She was a little bold and brash back in the day. Like the time my mom had a friend over and grandma began to sing off key and loudly much to my mom's chagrin. My mom knew better than to say anything. She simply escorted her guest out on the front porch so as not to subject her to Grandma's warbling. But Grandma didn't care. She simply opened up the window leaned out and sang louder. Because thats how she rolled.
She had her own unique way of dealing with anything.
Like getting her children not to eat anything bad for them. Lest they get the "bloody flucks". I'm really not sure what they are. Only Grandma knows. But I'm pretty damn sure I don't want them. I think threat of the bloody flucks is enough to scare the bejeebuz out of any child. In fact, I'm thinking I might need to share with B that quarter eating causes the bloody flucks.
And my personal favorite grandma-ism is the phrase "goat pissin in a tin can". As in "That horrid music you're listening to sounds like a goat pissin in a tin can".
Have you ever heard a goat urinating in a tin can? Me Neither. But if I trust Grandma it's not a sound I ever really want to hear.
Good old Grandma you gotta love her.
And I do crazy sayings and all.
She's seen and done a lot in her 77 years and has much wisdom to impart on the younger generation. Wisdom, I just love hearing.
But what I love even more is to hear the incredibly entertaining stories my mom tells. To hear my mom tell it, my grandma was quite different then the quiet,sweet, gentle woman I know today.
She was a little bold and brash back in the day. Like the time my mom had a friend over and grandma began to sing off key and loudly much to my mom's chagrin. My mom knew better than to say anything. She simply escorted her guest out on the front porch so as not to subject her to Grandma's warbling. But Grandma didn't care. She simply opened up the window leaned out and sang louder. Because thats how she rolled.
She had her own unique way of dealing with anything.
Like getting her children not to eat anything bad for them. Lest they get the "bloody flucks". I'm really not sure what they are. Only Grandma knows. But I'm pretty damn sure I don't want them. I think threat of the bloody flucks is enough to scare the bejeebuz out of any child. In fact, I'm thinking I might need to share with B that quarter eating causes the bloody flucks.
And my personal favorite grandma-ism is the phrase "goat pissin in a tin can". As in "That horrid music you're listening to sounds like a goat pissin in a tin can".
Have you ever heard a goat urinating in a tin can? Me Neither. But if I trust Grandma it's not a sound I ever really want to hear.
Good old Grandma you gotta love her.
And I do crazy sayings and all.
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