STOP!

Do NOT read any farther if you have any idea, whatsoever, of getting offended.
This is my space. For me to rant. To praise. To whine. Whatever.
Do NOT send me bitchy emails or messages about what you read here.
You don't have to like it and you don't have to read it either!







Thursday, December 16, 2010

My heart's a dead tomato splotched with moldy, purple spots...

For all the talk and the schmaltz, I am just NOT feeling it this year. I write about the joy in the simple things and I really do mean it, but for some reason, this year, I just can't find MY Christmas. I smile when I fill the glass tree with the Hershey kisses, I tear up when the little guy freaks out over Santa, lights, trees, and ribbons. This year I just feel very "seasick crocodile". I have spent 13+ years trying to get the hubs to understand why this time of year is such a huge deal to me and he tried some years to fake it and some years he just didn't care and some years he really did mean it. He basically Grinched me most of the time. I guess I just got tired of playing and singing Fah who for-aze! Dah who dor-aze! Welcome Christmas, Come this way! This year he is even PURPOSELY listening to the Christmas station all on his own to and from work and me? WMMR- that's the rock station here. I re-did my iPod with GIGS of Christmas music...it sits there gathering dust. I am not into making cookies or candy or sending out cards...even though I did and am. I just feel tired. And disenchanted. Apathetic? Whatever. I put out the houses...they are still not connected to electricity. Nothing is wrapped. It's all in boxes in the attic. I am thankful for everything and everyone in my life. I think i am just SICK to DEATH of the crap. The bigger, better, faster, NOW mentality. I am tired of the shit on t.v. telling us we NEED this or my fave...AUDI trying to tell me that by buying a brand new car from them I am actually SAVING money! WHAT THE AY-EFF?! I love to give presents and I love getting them, but I am tired of CRAP. I would rather get one thing that means something than 5 things that I will put on a shelf and forget or end up tossing out because it broke. I would rather GIVE 1 thing that means something than waste precious money on shit. We SEVERELY scaled back this year because really? What sense is in going into debt to buy a bunch of crap that will break or be forgotten in a drawer/toybox in a month or so? NONE. The boys know this is happening and are so cool with it, it's crazy! They wrote a list with 3-5 things each. And it was crazy stuff like an am/fm alarm clock with 6 soothing sounds, new clothes, a Bookworm booklight! WHAT?!?! They are not going to the store and pointing at every mindless thing and squealing that they want it, NEED IT! I am thankful for that. Really I am. But this year...I almost want to skip it altogether.

Monday, December 13, 2010

What in the HOT HOLY HELL?!?!?

What is it with kids? They KNOW they are not allowed in OUR room without permission. Not because there are weird and freaky things in there... (crickets chirping...) but because it's about RESPECT. Sing it with me... R-E-S-P-E-C-T... and I'm back... so needless to say TWO rules were broken. NUMBER ONE- Do NOT go in our room without permission or on direct orders to retrieve something for myself or the hubster. NUMBER TWO- Do NOT touch the Super Glue or Super Glue Gel or Gorilla Glue or any other adhesive that will require special remover or a trip to the Emergency Room of our local hospital! Don't ask why that shit was in our room. It just was y'all. Doesn't everyone keep the crazy glue in their room? No? Just me then. ANYWAY...the little vagisite comes out of his room in a panic. He has Super GLue GEL (cause that shit is better than the regular stuff right?) ALL over his fingers. WHAT THE AY-EFF?!! So I ask how it came to be that his fingers are crusted over in the now completely hardenend gel. He says his older brother was fixing his fighter plane and it got all over the desk anbd he was afraid they would get in trouble and are his fingers going to melt off cause they are covered in super glue GEL? All in one sentence. Now here is where it gets murky and possibly crosses a line. The oldest is already in the bathroom scrubbing his hands after he has quickly spirited the GEL back into our room. He knows it's coming...DAD. He naturally gets sent to bed with warning of..."What if he had glued his hand to his face?" (I had to leave the room cause I IMMEDIATELY saw that image and am screwed up like that!) "What if he had gotten it in his mouth?" Where does he get this stuff???? It's GOLDEN!! No argument...go to bed, directly to bed. Do NOT pass the cookies. So now the little guy is REALLY panicking...Mom, can I get sick from super glue GEL? (MURKIER water ahead and possibly REALLY bad parenting)
Me- Maybe. How much did you get on you? Him- Ummmm...is this alot? Me- Well, it kinda looks like it. Him (lip quivering)- Can I die from getting sick cause it's kinda alot? Me- You could. But... Him- WAAAAAHHHHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! (that is NOT laughing y'all he is SCREAMING) Me- Stop crying you are not gonna die. Him- I'm not? Me- No, but don't pick at it cause the skin COULD come off. And don't put it in your mouth cause it's CHEMICALS. Him- WAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Me- You could have glued your hand or face to the desk and then you'd be known FOREVER as that kid that glued his hand/face to his desk.We'd have to leave town. Him- You're not going to tell anyone that I did this are you? Me- Of course I am sweetie. Now go to bed.
Now he will be afraid to touch any adhesive until he is 35! AWESOME parenting if you ask me!

Saturday, December 11, 2010

What does it mean to you?

 For me it is so many things. Some tied to religion, some to magic, most to memory. There once was a pair glass trees that were ALWAYS filled with red, green & silver Hershey kisses. That is it. NOTHING other than that went it. EVER. They sat on my mother's glass coffee table. Every year. Somehow they were never diminished. Never empty. It was magic. My mother was my grandmother.( She adopted me when I was 4-5. But that is beside the point.) My sister and I split the pair. (she was NOT adopted by our grandmother. My Family story is very "Days of Our Lives",) They are always full. And little by little we are keeping them full and therefore keeping THAT particular magic alive. Red, green, and silver. I for mine and my sweet, beautiful sister for hers. (Even though NO ONE is allowed to touch them but us!) And I am teaching my children the magic. Little by little. Christmas was always the, to quote a FAMOUS song, "The Most Wonderful Time of The Year". My mother went OVERBOARD in the very best sense. There were HUGE plywood trees, candy canes, and YES, Virginia, A Giant Santa Sleigh and Eight Tiny Pink Flamingos. (It was FLA people)Those bits went to my birth mother, who THANKFULLY, still puts them up every year. Even though they have seen better days. It's the spirit behind them I think. My mommy. Billie Jean. (Really, NO LIE, that was her name. It was Sylvia, but she changed it to Billie Jean. And then regretted it a little when Michael Jackson came along.) SHE is the biggest part of this time of year for me. I still put chocolate coins in my boys' stockings because of her.(STILL not sure of this one) I still make let them open ONE present on Christmas Eve...Christmas Jammies...DUH! Because of her ( Tam- remember matching the blue and pink "satin" nightgowns? I have pictures...just sayin...) I watch the cheesy movies, and bake the cookies, and sing the carols, and lay under the tree on Christmas Eve, when it's all lit up,(remember that Tam?) alone. And I cry a little and thank GOD I was given a woman like my mommy. And then I have a little Kahlua and Milk like my mommy used to and just look at the lights and I talk to her. And thank her for all the MAGIC.
My 11 year old is losing it and it kills me. He is very cynical. But THANKFULLY, sweet enough to realize that his little brother still believes. MY child. He even said to me tonight, "Mom, if you tell me the magic is real. I'll believe." He wants to, so badly. What do you think I said? i held him close and told him that it's the magic and the spirit, and the LOVE and family that is what is important. And THAT is what is THE MAGIC. He smiled and I think he GOT IT. The little one is MY child too. He still believes. In every single bit of magic. He is VERY concerned that Santa will not be able to fit down our TINY chimney. I told him that Santa is magic so therefore everything is possible. That was enough for him. We were outside pruning and weeding and winterizing the yard and damned if Santa didn't ride past on a fire truck and slow down in front of our house (which is on a semi-major road) and wave to my baby. As did the firemen, police and rescue folks accompanying him. HUGE thanks to the Williamstown Fire Dept. for that little bit of magic. You made my baby wave his little arm so hard his wrist STILL hurts, you made my oldest stop and wonder, you made the GRINCH aka, the hubs, pause and smile at his offspring and crazier than bat shit wife waving like maniacs in the front yard. But...the point is, don't lose it. EVER. The magic. Whatever it is to you. Matching Christmas Jammies. Oranges in the stockings. Midnight Mass. Whatever. Just be. And remember. And be thankful. And Love Each other. And GOD BLESS US EVERYONE. I love you, Mommy. Thank you for your magic and your faith. And for my special moments at Christmas.

Friday, December 3, 2010

Elbow deep in a frozen turkey...I can't make sense of tonight and I was there!

So tomorrow is my birthday. yay. No biggy. Whatever. I decided that in celebration of that and the fact that my egg donor and her Bill (it's his name not like a bill for services rendered!) are coming up from FLA i would make a Thanksgiving part deux! What the AY-EFF was I thinking? So I took the 18 pounder out of the freezer on Monday and placed it in the fridge...here we are on Thursday...and I was elbow-friggin-deep in a halk frozen turkey. AT.NINE.P.M. Trying to pry the frozen gizzards and neck from the rock hard cavity they were entombed in. This is full of the awesome, y'all. I finally manage that task and set about removing the leftover feathers from the carcass. I am weird like that. Now I get it in the pan and back in the fridge it goes...BEFORE all this I was fixing some broken ornaments and tchotchkes...with super glue. Not just super glue, but SUPER GLUE GEL. Cause that is better right? Right. well, naturally it isn't. It takes LONGER to dry. So you have to sit there and hold whatever it is you are trying to glue back together for like ever! NOT full of the awesome. So naturally I get my finger glued to the chest of the wooden smoker man. (it's German and cute.) He now has a permanent fingerprint there since a few layers of my skin came off when i was trying to detach him. Talking to myself...no, No, NO, NONONONONO...DAMN.IT! In the process of detaching the wooden man I managed to get glue on a few other fingers (read: ALL of them). I also managed to glue the tips of a few fingers to their fingernails. Oh, and I got super glue GEL in my hair. AND I was dead sober this whole time. Maybe I should NOT have been.