Monday, September 29, 2008

Ramblings from a very, very tired woman

It's a Monday morning not unlike the 2476 Mondays that have come before it. I'm at work and I'd rather be just about anywhere else. I'm incredibly exhausted and if you saw me now you'd probably be downright scared. The bags under my eyes and my lack of attention given to my coif this morning make it hard to tell me apart from this guy

Actually, my weekend was good. The weather was brilliant and the fam and I discovered a delightful new italian restaurant. It's the same old story though, just when I start to get really into relaxation mode I find myself back at work. May I make a recommendation to whoever controls the days of the week. Might I suggest a two day work week and a five day weekend. I'll just let you chew on that for a while... mmkay.

Oh and my apologies to anyone I may have bothered Friday night whilst 'tipsy texting'. I was drowning my sorrows about my pooch in a bottle of chardonnay and well my phone was nearby so..yeah if I had your number you were most likely a lucky recipient. Good times.

Oh my pooch, my poor pooch. He has cancer. We're exploring treatment options but unfortunately none of them are that great. Surgery may not get all of his small nerf football sized tumor. Chemo and radiation are pricey and may be too taxing for him at his advanced age. It sucks. Fucking cancer.

But the hubs is good (and has quit smoking!! Praise the lord for Chantix even if it does make you have crazy ass dreams), the kids are good (more stories on their craziness later on) and I'm tired but good.

So there you have it. I'm back .

Missed you my little lovelies!

p.s: I also come bearing gifts for you yogurt fans, check out my latest review and giveaway

Monday, September 22, 2008

The furry member of our family

He's the one on the right and he's not doing so great. He's 12 and he was my baby before my babies, so you'll excuse me if I'm not around much this week while I tend to his needs.


Monday, September 15, 2008

In search of the butt bra

Lets just say I have an ample backside. It's not quite a shelf booty but let's say I identify with the term "bootylicious".

Most of the time I'm ok with it. It's my lot in life. Hell, I'd much rather have some then none. In fact, some days if you get me in the right jeans I'm rather likin' what I was given. But that's in heavy denim. Denim that holds and lifts and shapes.

Lightweight cotton culottes do not. But I wore them anyway last week as it was due to be a scorching day and anything else just seemed...well... hot.

That happened to be the day I needed to run Downtown to the Post Office and overnight a package. I knew it would be a zoo there and I knew I only had a half an hour so I jog-walked the seven or so blocks from my work.

And as I did. I felt. The jiggle.

I do not like to jiggle. It's probably one of the worst feelings in the world for me and probably accounts for the reason I don't like Jello. But I digress.

Ask my hubby. He knows I have jiggle issues. If he playful slaps my behind and it jiggles, well I stop feeling playful and the claws come out.

"DID YOU JUST MAKE ME JIGGLE ?" I'll screech in a voice he's come to know as the if- you-do-it-again-I'm-going-to-go-all-medieval-on-your-ass-voice.

"Uh, sorry" he'll say cowering in fear.

Yep,I'm like that. It's not pretty.

So I got to thinking as I unhappily jiggled down the hill. We have bras so that our boobies don't jiggle with reckless abandon as we lead our active lifestyles.

Why not a bra for those of us with badonk-a-donks ? I picture something very closely resembling a bra with two cups but rather then shoulder straps having a waist strap.

What? If someone is making raincoats for purses then dammit someone can make a bra for the behind.

Maybe that's my golden ticket

Now, a name. A name. What would I call this stroke of genius ?

Hmm...the jiggleliminator ? the brass ?

Well something will come to me...sooner or later. There has just got to be a public need for this kind of thing.

Umm,right ?

Thursday, September 11, 2008

A little linky love is all you need

Recently, I've noticed some blogger folk have taken to spreading the love.

Linky style.

Not for any particular reason. Just because (thanks for the idea'r Jennifer).

And I think it's high time I showed folks some love. Not because I'm a follower(well not most of the time anyway...ahem) but because who doesn't like a little love, a little shout out, a little affirmation ?

So without further adieu:

I'm giving love to Elisa,the Unlikely Housewife . She bestowed upon me this lurvely award and I have finally stopped slacking long enough to tell her she's the ketchup on my burger, the Splenda in my tea...thanks, my friend

And Biddy, dear sweet Biddy. Believe it or not this bad ass diva brought Jenny the Bloggess to my blog. I already dug me some Biddy but now I'm convinced she positively rulz. Please, go squeeze the bejesus out of Biddy as she's been in a funk and could use the extra love.


To newly married Amy of Butrfly Garden . Congrats, love . I wish you all the happiness in the world.

And to those I didn't single out, you know I love you. Believe that. But, if you really feel like you need something extra special from me...well head on over to the review blog. I'm giving away free cereal and it's chocolatey ...mmm

Happy Weekends my friends, Happy Weekends.



Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Things that are making my week

In bullet points for your viewing pleasure:

  • Seeing the ultra-conservative CEO of our parent company try and dance at a staff block party celebrating construction of a new wing. If only I'd had a mini video camera I could have shared his super spaz-ticity with you. Picture a "suit" walking over hot coals with ants in his pants. It looked something like that. And I experienced pure joy when he turned three shades of red as he danced. Because I knew he was highly embarassed at his lack of skills and probably forced in to shaming himself by his staff who I'm sure were trying to make him appear less stuffy . Yep watching him squirm was fun. Literally and figuratively.

  • my son's comment after his grandma tried to clean his nose and came across a particular little stubborn boog she couldn't get. "I don't know Grandma, maybe it's backed up to my brain"

  • my son at the dentist last night, thinking up every excuse he could not to have to get in to the chair "If you make me do this, I swear I'm going to cuss, dammit". Proof he is my child

  • and this. I freakin love this commercial...

  • Monday, September 8, 2008

    For maximum entertainment stick close to home

    I did very little this weekend.

    It wasn't intentional. I had all kinds of plans. Movies, shopping, lunch out at a restaurant. Things of that nature. But those plans never came to fruition.

    My plans went south Saturday, when a neighbor girl I'd seen only once before rode down from her cul de sac to ours and struck up a conversation. She was sweet and mentioned that she had a younger brother and sister that might like to play with the twins.

    It was a beautiful day, the twins wanted to ride their bikes, I was ready for a short walk so I headed down with the kids to check out the neighbors. The mother Misty seemed quiet and mousy but incredibly nice so I engaged in polite conversation with her while B played with her 6 year old son and J played with her 5 year old daughter. She and I were both so pleased to see our sons playing so well together we continued to let them play for some time.

    As time wore on the small talk had all but ceased so I asked if she'd be ok with me returning home and the kids continuing to play. I pointed to my house and indicated I was within eyesight. She was fine with that and I turned to leave.

    That was until her hot-ass-twenty-something next door neighbor came outside to chat with her hubby. I found I no longer needed to drum up small talk; that I was quite content to just drool.

    Why hadn't I ventured to this area of my neighborhood before?

    I sat back down in their driveway pretending to be looking at the kids riding bikes but really positioning myself so I had an optimal view of Hawt Neighbor and found something to continue to talk to Misty about.

    Hawtie McHawterson left after a bit and I successful picked my tongue up off the ground.

    Turning to leave again, I heard Misty say "I'm suprised we're actually here today."

    "Huh?" I inquired.

    She then told me she actually had 5 kids. The four I'd seen and a 3 month old that was in the hospital.

    "We're hopeful he'll come home soon" she said. He's had 3 surgeries for a heart defect."

    Whoa I thought. How awful! They'd all seemed so together and complete until that point but I quickly found out this mother was not. And was heartbroken she didn't have her baby boy with her. It was sad, but the prognosis seemed good so I lamely offered support and wished her the best.

    Transitioning the conversation back to small talk at that point would have been incredibly awkward so I decided I'd let her get back to cleaning her garage and let her know I'd be hanging out reading on my front porch when the kids were ready to come home.

    On my short walk home I ran in to another little neighbor girl,Shauna, and her parents Tom & Trystan. Tom has three kids from a prior marriage and Shauna is Trystan's child from a prior relationship. Knowing the other three had gone to visit their mom I good-naturedly said "Wow it must be pretty quiet for you all what with only one this weekend"

    "Yep" Trystan said with a sigh of relief "you wouldn't believe it"

    She then launched in to stories about the kids and their emotional problems, including one's call to Child Protective Services (CPS) about only being given raw food and made to cook it herself on a lightbulb.
    What tha?? This was a child I'd seen quite a bit. A child that had played with my kids quite a bit and seemed so... so...well... normal.
    Trystan told me tales of the little girl peeing outside (she's 9), lying, and numerous back and forth calls to CPS between her and the kids "dysfunctional" mom.

    I was suprised and shocked that I'd gotten all this information from one simple statement.

    I headed home, my head spinning.

    Right around this time I realized how much of the day had passed and was going to start dinner when TomGirl, my 15 year old, almost knocked me over heading outside to play basketball. Our other neighbors were having a BBQ and I noticed their son and some of his friends had gone outside to play basketball. Teenage boys. Boys that would probably take off their shirts.

    "Since you'll be outside, TomGirl, do you mind keeping an eye on your little brother and sister" I asked

    "Sure," she said

    Even so, I put dinner on pause and plopped myself on the couch where I could look out the window and spy watch the teens play ball. B-ball quickly turned in to love connection as I saw cell phones being pulled out and numbers being keyed in. Damn, teenagers worked fast.

    Minutes later, I went to go retrieve B & J after realizing their sister wouldn't actually be watching them.

    As I headed to the neighbor's, they saw me coming and had plates full of food ready for me to take home. Amazing smelling food. I loaded everything up and headed back in for the day. Ecstatic I no longer had to cook, I went into the kitchen poured myself a glass of wine and thought back on the day.

    Sexy neighbors, heartbreak, wayward kids, horny teenagers... Hell who needs to go anywhere. I've got a soap opera right in my very own backyard.

    Thursday, September 4, 2008

    What not to do when asking for important things from your boss

    Kindergarten being the new first grade, I thought it best to adjust my schedule in order to be home earlier in the afternoon to help the twins with the mounds and mounds of homework I'm assured they'll get (and still find time to cook, clean, wash etc).

    After much thought, I decided upon 6:30 a.m. to 3:00 p.m which would effectively start and end my work day one and a half hours earlier then present day. Yes, that is ridiculously early and no I'm not a morning person but working 30 miles from home it would be necessary to end my work day that early just to get home by 4ish.

    My supervisor was on vacation last week which was the week before school started, the week in which I wanted to begin my new hours. I drafted what I thought was a thoughtful email with the request to alter my ongoing schedule. As I pushed send it was as if a weight had been lifted. I just knew she'd agree. After 6 years of loyal service and the way I'd handled things in her absence why would she not? We share a close working relationship , she has a young child of her own. What really was there to think about ?

    I left that week assuming I'd start my new schedule the following week but called Bosslady Tuesday afternoon (the twins first day of school) to confirm I could begin my new schedule Wednesday morning.

    To my utter suprise I was met with resistance. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement but I sucked it up and agreed to let her think about it more and proceeded to enjoy the remainer of the day.

    The following day I arrived at work at 8 a.m. disgruntled but desperately trying to suppress the rage. About an hour after I arrived, Bosslady asked me if I had time to talk about my schedule.

    She stepped into my office and closed the door behind her, which I assumed couldn't be good. I was determined to be stone faced and plead my case in such a way that she couldn't do anything but agree to my demands.

    She first asked why I wanted to start so early. She then admitted she was worried that me not being available for the customer service aspect of my job in the afternoon might lead more traffic to her door. I said I understood but as I saw it staff didn't tend to need as much service later in the day... and then it happened.

    The water works. I begin to bawl.

    I was horrified at myself but couldn't stop. "Blah , blah , blah my babies" I whined and "blah, blah they need me".

    Lord, what had happened to me to turn me into this pathetic pile of goo?

    Damn my hormones.

    I apologized. She said not to worry and that she understood.

    But I was still embarassed and ready for her to leave my office and hinted as much.

    In the end, she offered a compromise. It was for me to start and end one half hour earlier. Not exactly what I wanted but she agreed to revisit it in a few months.

    Damn, I thought... there went my dignity and my new schedule in one fell swoop.

    And this...this is the reality that is my life. *sigh*