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.