The art of killing the mood: Chapter 3

One morning before school, Alan and I were having a great argument. It seems that the previous week Alan had sent Shepard to school with a bag of chips for a snack. The children are supposed to bring in a 'healthy snack' so I was a bit miffed by his decision. The discussion became more heated (and louder) since he was trying to defend himself and argue that a bag of chips was a healthy snack. I yelled, "Yeah, maybe compared to a bag of lard!" And on we argued, until...

Sage, who had been sitting at the breakfast table the whole time, piped up and said with a grin, "I need a bag of popcorn!! I'm enjoying this!" This shut us both up rather quickly.

Yes, wheter it be a good argument or good love (see Chapter 1 and Chapter 2) my children really know how to kill the deal.

J.Hi's secret

My boobs are once again sitting up and at attention. I am sure you all are relieved. My post Christmas mall aversion lasted a bit longer this year. But last week I was finally able to enter the mall and bra shop. I tried hard to find a bra other than a Victoria Secret bra because I really do not have a strong desire to spend $40 on one bra. However, through careful research (OK, so I went to one other place) I found that the VS bras are far superior. These lovelies are very well packaged now--no wiggling, jiggling, falling or flapping in the breeze (unless I choose to make those things happen.)

According to my bra expert Erica (I didn't check her credentials), I was wearing the wrong size bra. She measured me at a size smaller than what I was wearing but when she measured my cup size she went two cups bigger than what I was wearing. She said I measured at a D cup but she must have been coming on to me because I have never been a D cup. I decided to go for a more reasonable C cup. I love my bra! It's lifts, supports and it's so pretty. Man, I feel like a woman! I cannot stop looking down my own shirt.

I wish I could share with you my new and improved boobalicious figure but I'm not that kind of blogger. I refuse to stoop to such levels to get more readers. Although I have been known to do things that are out of character when people are chanting my name (and after lots of alcohol.) Shhhhhh, don't tell.

Jason loves you

Friday the 13th. What does that mean to me? Well, I am not superstitious so it would be just another day except for that damn movie. When you think of scary don't you think about that hockey mask? I know I do. I loved horror movies when I was younger, especially Friday the 13th Part 2. I never saw the original because I was too young at the time but I did see Part 2. It came out in 1981. I would have been 11 and I don't think my mom would have let me see it at that age either. I'm pretty sure I saw it years later when we got cable. I saw a lot of movies I shouldn't have seen when we got cable. I remember sitting up late into the night on weekends watching inappropriate TV. I had my finger on the remote and would change the channel if I heard the faintest creak or felt the slightest change in pressure. "Friday the 13th part 2" is one of those life changing movies because the images just stay in your brain. I never sit with my back to a large window. And I can't walk through the woods without looking over my shoulder to make sure I'm not being chased by a psycho. Here is one of my favorite clips referencing Jason from the movie "Nothing to Lose" with Martin Lawrence and Tim Robbins. Bad language alert: Don't watch at work!!

I also want to bring to your attention that today is Peter Tork's (The Monkees) birthday. What?!! I love The Monkees!!

Hope you all have a lucky 13th and I hope you get some good Valentine lovin' tomorrow. Monday is President's Day, so if you feel like spreading your wealth, send it on my way! Ha!

Opthamologists: scourge of America in the 21st century

**Warning: This post may contain strong language because I am really fucking pissed.

There is a great injustice going on in this world and I am here today to expose it. If you are a contact wearer you are probably aware of this problem. But you seeing eye people most likely have no idea of the travesty of justice that befalls the visually challenged. This is an issue that affects me everyday, for you see, I am practically blind. I started wearing glasses in fourth grade for near-sightedness. After an unfortunate school picture in 6th grade, I vowed to get contacts. So I have been wearing contacts for about 26 years now. I am not sure when this happened but sometime after I was married in 1994 I found that the eye centers were refusing to sell contacts to me unless I came in for a yearly exam. Since contacts can only be ordered and purchased with a prescription, I have been forced to see an opthamologist every year for about 10 years. I ask you, is this fair?! I think NOT. I don't see them harassing the glasses wearers. They aren't confiscating glasses if you don't get a yearly eye exam. I don't see dentists taking out crowns if one doesn't have yearly dental exam. And I don't have the birth control police coming to rip out my IUD if I don't have my yearly pelvic invasion. So why pick on the contact wearers?!

I have had to put up with 10 years of diatlated pupils, puffs of air in my eyes, stupid eye technicians (or eye monkeys as I like to call them), and "what's better--1 or 2? 1 or 2? 1 or 2? how about now? 2 or 3?" The eye monkeys really irritate me. I understand it's their job to check my vision but what right do they have to look in my eyes with that light thing? In my opinion if they don't have a DR in front of their name then they should not be looking inside my fucking eyeball! About 5 years ago I had a Lasix consultation in the hope of never seeing an eye doctor again but guess what? MY FUCKING CORNEAS ARE TOO FUCKING THIN!! Yes, the only thin thing on my whole body and it has to be my corneas! JUST GREAT!!!

I have to continue having my yearly exams and play along with their contact extortion racket. Monday I had a followup exam with the eye doc. They had given me a new brand of contact since the previous brand was causing an allergic reaction to my eyeballs. The followup was to check if the new contacts were working and to give me my prescription. My appointment was 10:45. I arrived at 10:43 and sat in the waiting room until 11:40. Finally got back to the room with the eye monkey who had me read some letters and then looked in my eye!!! FUCK!! So I finally told her "I have to leave in about 10 minutes to pick up my son from preschool." She said the doctor would be in any minute. 10 minutes go by and I walk out. I see her on the way and tell her that I have to leave and could I please have my prescription. She says no because the doctor has to see me. The doctor comes out and I tell him I have to leave. He will not give me my prescription either and says, "Well, just call back for another appointment."

DAMN FUCKING COCK SUCKING RETARDED ASS CLOWN!!!!

Just to show him I have not called back for another appointment. Yeah, that will teach him. But I need new contacts soon so I will have to go back. Do you see the injustice? Are you as angry as I am? Start a petition!! Write someone about it! March somewhere and protest! Join the cause by going to my website www.fuckalltheopthamoligistsmaytheyburninhell.shithead or www.number1isbetteryoueyemonkeypieceofshit.kissmyblackass. Help a sister out and save me from another 10 years of opthamology hell!

Tag, I'm it!

I have been tagged by Kimber p over at I Know, Right?! to participate in a picture game. (Thank you, girl!!) I am supposed to go to my 4th folder in which I keep pictures and post the 4th picture I see with an explanation. So here it is.

This is Sage and I when Sage was about 9 months old. Alan and I took him to a playground near our house and took tons of pictures of him. Sage was the center of our universe back then. He was the golden child and received all of our attention. Wow, how intense it is with your first child! With the second child, I think your love is still as strong but there is also a need to balance between the two. It's just not the same somehow. I am amazed at how far he (and we) have come since then and how much has changed. It makes me long for the baby he was but makes me happy for the boy he has become. *Sigh* Now I am starting to feel like I would like to have another baby which is why I will stop looking at this picture now and instead go look in the mirror. I am sure seeing my wrinkles, sprouting gray hairs, and stubborn fat will cure me of my baby making urges.

iPod revelation

I discovered that this song is #1 on my iTunes top 25 most played list. What does this say about me? I'm not sure but all I know is that it has a catchy beat and is fun to work out to. Happy Friday!

The enemy within

The reason why I have only been posting about once per week lately is because nothing is going on here. For the past month, things have been running smoothly. Alan and I are getting along, no major extended family drama, no house issues, and--here's the weirdest part--the kids have been fairly well-behaved. So how am I supposed to get any good material with all this peacefulness and tranquility? Sheesh!

This was not the case one month ago. Sage was causing lots of problems, Shepard was copying him and I blamed Alan for all of his damn Y chromosomes. Let me explain about my darling Sage. He is what Alan's mom refers to as a "strong willed child" or, as I like to say, **"a pain in my ass." Our relationship seems to have developed in a contentious one. We are constantly butting heads. He likes his way in all things, he will argue with me just to argue, and he enjoys seeing me yell (he actually admitted this once.) Keep in mind he is only 8 and yes, you may feel sorry for me when you think about his teenage years.

Back to one month ago. Sage was worse than ever. He decided that I hated him. I apparently manifested this hate by making him learn his multiplication facts and refusing to let him wear all camo all the time. Shepard was taking his lead and one day when I was trying to get him to put on a shirt with buttons, he said to me, "You hate me, don't you?" I really wasn't getting any respect (or support) at home and I was on the verge of taking off to an undisclosed location ala Marie Osmond when she got in her car and just left her family in the name of postpartum depression. She's like my hero!! It's been 4 1/2 years, can I still claim postpartum depression? But I didn't take off, somehow I got through it. Probably because my favorite TV shows started back up and I was able to escape a bit from the hell. Jack Bauer and The Others saved my family.

Lately, I have started noticing that there haven't been as many arguments. I haven't been called 'MEAN' in quite some time. When I told Sage to pick up some clothes off of the floor he said, "OK, Mommy" instead of "Are you crazy, Woman?!" Shepard has been very affectionate and telling me he loves me all the time. And it's been weeks since I've had the overwhelming urge to kick Alan square in the nuts. What's going on here?! Do they think I am stupid?! My suspiscions are piqued. My alert is on high. I know they're plottin' on me. They think they can lull me into a sense well-being with their love and good behavior and then POUNCE!! Well, I've got my eyes on them. They don't realize who they are dealing with. I am a Mother--my eyes are always open, my mind is always made up, my rules are law, I will always suspect the worst and my guard will NEVER be down.

Domestic Terroritsts------------>

Weapons used: Hugs, kisses, agreeable

behavior
Highly Dangerous: DO NOT TURN YOUR BACK!

**Ok, you know I love my kids more than life itself. I'd take a bullet for them, I'd throw myself in front of a train for them, yada yada...WHATever!