Friday, September 2, 2011
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
This is the best chicken tortilla soup and it's so easy because all you do is open a bunch of cans, throw in some chicken breast (which can be frozen) and in 6-8 hours you have yummy deliciousness. This is so good that I've never had anyone eat it and NOT ask for the recipe.
- 1 can of whole kernel corn, drained
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
I just hate dealing with it all and I also hate feeling deprived of the things I want. When I think about putting together an actual household budget, I get all antsy because what if I budget a certain amount for say, going out to eat, and then I want to go out to eat and it's not in the budget? That would piss me off. I know, spoiled bitch, right? Whatever, I own being a spoiled bitch. Even so, the truth of the matter is, I like doing things and doing things costs money. I don't foresee myself ever being the type of person who is like 'Oooh, sitting here at home and playing a game together was SOOO much better than taking the kids to Busch Gardens.' Yes, I know that playing a game together can be fun and economical but is it better than Busch Gardens? No, I don't think it is.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Friday, July 1, 2011
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
Friday, June 24, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
I've never had a roommate, unless you count my husband. Have you seen Single White Female? No thanks.
Monday, June 20, 2011
It sounds so cliche, but I really do feel like yesterday they were babies and I blinked and now we're here, teetering dangerously close to their teen years. My lap sits empty because my girls, who no matter what are still my babies, have outgrown it. There are no more bedtime stories, no more kissing boo boos to make them all better, no more picking them up in my arms and cuddling them close. I can see that there's a time, in the not too distant future, that they won't need me anymore. At least not in the way that they used to.
Sometimes though, when I least expect it, I catch a glimpse of my babies in my not quite yet young women. Someone hurts themselves and needs me to hold their hand until it feels better, someone says 'I'm scared and I miss you and I don't want to spend the night here, please come pick me up' or someone still wants me to tuck them in and kiss them goodnight. It's at these times that I remember.
A Mom is always a Mommy.
Friday, June 17, 2011
2) So, the dog ate a bouncy ball, right? Then, he refused to throw up even though I followed the vet's instructions exactly (10 cc's of hydrogen peroxide down the gullet). I figured that when a foreign object is ingested, eventually it has to come out, one way or another right? Right. For the next couple of days, Violet was on poo watch and would report her findings every time he went out to do his business. The bouncy ball pieces never re-appeared but we did find some ribbon, some tape, a bandaid and pieces of a popsicle stick. Apparently, I have a Shih Tzu that moonlights as a carp. Well that, or he was trying to wrap a present, cut himself and decided to make it better with a bandaid and a popsicle.
3) This week, I was talking to a friend who said that they thought it was weird for people to eat at a restaurant or go see a movie by themselves. As someone who has done both of these things many times, I don't get it. What's wrong with some quality time by yourself? I know I tend to lean a little more on the 'loner' side of things, but I really don't see anything wrong with it. As a matter of fact, I'm probably going to go to the movies with me, myself and I this weekend. I want to see a movie thats in theaters right now that's a confirmed 'chick flick'. I know there's a snowball's chance in hell that Mr. Chick will go with me and all of my friends are busy. So, I'll just go by myself. Is that weird?
4) I'm not a very good photographer. I forget to bring our camera everywhere and if it wasn't for my husband, we'd probably have about 12 total pictures of our children. I just always seem to have better things to do than worry about taking pictures. Not to mention that when I do attempt to take pictures, they're blurry, or too dark, or too far away or too this or too that. Photography = Not My Thing. Given that, it makes total sense that I asked for a really nice and expensive camera for Mother's Day, right? Mr. Chick totally came through and purchased said camera and I think I've taken four or five pictures with it. This reminds me of the time I asked him to get me a scrapbooking kit for my birthday, which then sat on a shelf in a closet for the next five years before I finally decided that maybe I'm not so into the scrapbooking and sent it off to the Goodwill store. Yeah, it's just like that...but a lot more expensive this time. I better figure out how to use that thing.
5) I've mentioned it a few times on Twitter this week, but seriously, I think Jillian Michaels is trying to kill me. And she's doing it slowly, one 30 minute workout at a time. Seriously, people the 30 Day Shred workout is hard and I'm in fairly decent shape as a runner. It is, however, the best 30 minute workout I've ever done and I've done quite a few. If you are looking for a workout program that gives quick results in a short amount of time, RUN to get this DVD. The fact that it only takes about 30 minutes out of your day is a bonus, also. Here's the thing: You're supposed to do the workout every day. I've only done it every other day so far because I swear, my arms would fall off and beat me about the head if I tried to make them do that amount of push ups every single day. I'm going to attempt to do it every day next week and I'll update with my findings. If my arms fall off though, typing is going to be hard.
Have a lovely weekend!
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Friday, June 10, 2011
4) I was a champion speller when I was in school. I'm not even kidding. I won the school spelling bee two or three years in a row and went on to the county spelling bee from 4th through 8th grade. All of a sudden, I'm forgetting how to spell words. What is up with that? I blame texting. As I was titling this post the 'Annoying Edition' I started to type 'Annoying Addition' before I caught myself. Also, I'm constantly guilty of run on sentences, until I catch myself and edit. WTF? I blame texting. Also annoying.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Not surprisingly, Violet had a few problems at school with some 'mean girls.' Sixth grade is BRUTAL people, and sixth grade girls, lo, they are bitches. At the time, I tried my very best to turn each incident into a learning experience for Violet, when I really wanted to march into that school and
Nonetheless, I stayed the course every single time and encouraged Violet to stay above the fray. My instructions were simple: try to be friends with everyone and if somebody says something about you, starts a rumor, or just acts like an asshat in general, IGNORE IT because they are looking for a reaction from you. If you don't react, they will get bored and go away. And, if you hear someone talking about someone else behind their back, you should be a friend and stick up for the person getting trashed because you know how that feels.
I could never be sure if my message was getting across until several months later when Violet mentioned that some kids were laughing at one of her friends in the cafeteria that day because she has cancer and has no hair, and it was making her friend cry (I told you, bitches, right??). When I asked Violet what happened after her friend started crying she said "I remembered what you said, Mom. So I went over to those girls and told them that she can't help that she has no hair and that she is way prettier than they are because they're making themselves look ugly by making fun of someone who is sick."
When I recovered from the shock of my Violet asserting herself, she went on. "Then I told them that if they want to make fun of someone, make fun of me instead, because I don't care what they say about me and I can take it. And other than that they should keep their mouths shut and quit being rude to everybody because they just look stupid."
When I asked how the mean girls responded, she said "They didn't say anything else after that, I think they knew I was serious. And my friend felt better after someone stuck up for her, so you were right, Mom. I'm glad I stood up for my friend."
That, my friends, was a proud parenting moment. She's not such a shrinking violet after all.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Shortly after moving in, however, I discovered something about myself. An important something. I am not really a 'gated community' type of person. Apparently, there are a few key rules to follow in order to flourish here in Utopia and I lack these skills because I just don't give enough of a crap about other people's business. Read on though, to discover how you too can become a maven of Gated Community Society. I'm told it's a very prestigious post.
1) You must be nosy and care who's having an affair with who, who got drunk at the Valentine's Day 'Sweetheart Social' (and you should actually want to attend crap called the 'Sweetheart Social') and who hasn't paid their association dues in two years. I don't care about any of that and I also don't care who keeps their garbage cans out at the street for more than 24 hours after trash pick up (scandalous!) or who saw police cars on their street two nights ago (there goes the neighborhood!). Mind your own business, people. Nobody cares. Or maybe that's just me. Whatever.
2) Another responsibility of any good gated community citizen is to guard the front gate with your life. If someone tries to tailgate you in the gate, you should automatically brake check said individual, roll down your car window and accuse them of trying to get in the gate without a code. Even if the person behind you clearly has a resident sticker that opens the damn gate, just like YOU do. This might have happened to me and I might have jumped out of my car in the middle of the street and told the jackass in the Prius to mind his own damn business (although I might have replaced the 'damn' with another word that might begin with the letter F) because as a matter of fact, I do live here, asshole. But, I digress. Never mind the fact that the back gate is open ALL DAY and anyone can get in that gate WHENEVER they want...you should guard the front gate like Fort Knox. The security of the community depends on you!
3) If you're over the age of 65 or so, it's important to operate under the notion that you live in a retirement community when actually, you do not. As such, you should scowl, snipe and yell at all the kids in the community whenever possible because clearly, they are up to no good. Selfish kids, for wanting to use the bike paths, sports courts and parks! Isn't it obvious that their mere existence in these areas encroaches on your enjoyment of the community? Apparently the sign out front that calls this a 'family' community wasn't prominent enough when you were looking for a place to live out your golden years, Mr. and Mrs. Retiree. Too bad for you.
As you can see, being a good Gated Community Citizen is a big responsibility. But, if you follow the few simple rules above, you too can be part of this exclusive club. We have big two story houses! Award winning landscaping! Pretty lampposts! And don't forget the cleverly named dog park and resort style pool with waterslide and splash zone! Move right in! You know you want to.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
- Quit my job to become business partners with my mother.
- Decided that although I really love my mom, I don't like being her business partner.
- Got a new job, which involved working from home, in our house that we were already busting out of thanks to the fact that it was our 'starter home' that we bought before the real estate market sank, much like the Titanic. So we...
- Listed our house for sale and moved for the first time in seven years. Two weeks before Christmas. Yes, I am that breathtakingly stupid.
- Then I decided that I really hated the new job. It involved way more travel than I initially agreed to and you can only take so much of people that work for you crying at work EVERY. SINGLE. DAY before you want to poke your eye out with a stick. Fundamentally disagreeing with how the company is run by the owners also presents quite a problem. So I...
- Got a new job and quit the sucky one.
That's a very brief synopsis of 8 months that have been one shitstorm after another, gritty details of which I don't care to revisit. Some of it was indeed self-inflicted, but all of it was painful. Things are most definitely looking up and I believe that everything happened exactly how it was supposed to.
We're all settling in to this new version of normal and the scars of the last 8 months have started to turn from fresh bright pink to pearlescent white. Our house? Still for sale. The new(est) job? Pretty awesome, actually. Change is good. I'm going to keep saying that until I believe it. Change is good! Nope, not there yet...