Monthly Archives: August 2010

Coupons and Romance in Aisle 13

I think I have a winner for my Twitter competition. Now if I can just figure out how to use the damn thing…Details coming soon.

It’s Sunday and I’ve straightened the house — so much easier than actually cleaning it and now I feel semi-accomplished. I’m in my work out clothes, so my head’s in the right place. Even if I don’t actually exercise, at least I thought about it enough to get dressed.  Ah, today is turning into one accomplishment after another.

My lovely husband and I just had the previous night off from the kids. And what did we do on a kid-free Saturday? I’m embarrassed to admit it. We cut coupons, went grocery shopping, worked on a business plan, and then watched a steamy foreign film and … well I’ll leave the last part off the internet. It was a good night and now today, I’ve straightened the house…Mission accomplished. Where’s my banner and battleship?

Because currently I’m so utterly boring and I have no drama worth mentioning, I will leave you with some pictures.

A lovely picture from my garden…yeah right.

I kill fake house plants.

This is what I built last weekend, so you can see why today I feel so accomplished. I fluffed couch pillows…

I took a hike through some magical misty woods, until I spotted some weird building off in the distance.

Then I got lost in the plains of South Africa.

Ok, so I didn’t really do any of these things; my husband did…But did I mention I straightened the house?

Here’s to hoping your weekend was as “accomplished” as mine.


A Give Away and some fruit

Because I could hear the sound of birds chirping and my stomach growling on my last post, I decided to up the ante. Help me think of a Twitter name and if I choose it, I’ll give you a 25$ gift card to Target (woohoo – just think of all the free toothpaste $25 buckaroos can purchase!)

Now you are getting great “advice” AND possibly a gift card just for being my friend a reader of my blog.

Isn’t life great? Just one more tidbit of “advice” to keep you thinking, laughing and remembering why you’re reading this in the first place.

If life hands you lemons, either mix them with Vodka or squeeze them in someone’s eyes.

Until then, if you can still see…(then obviously you’re not drinking enough Vodka, haven’t pissed off anybody enough to get lemon juice in your eyes, or just maybe your day’s going pretty darn well and nobody’s handed you any lemons)…if that’s the case, feast your pretty peepers on these pictures.

This is me in the morning...I'm trying to poke my OWN eyes with lemons. Alas, I have missed.

But then I have a little breakfast and all is good with the world. Except...I see a hand a little too close to my "coffee".

Now I've had my morning "coffee", I've got my pitchfork and I'm ready to start my day!

So let life throw you lemons…you might just have $25 worth of your own to throw back!


I want to add a Twitter account, so I can update the world regularly on my awesome parenting advice and world domination. I mean if you could see how well my kids behave, how clean their rooms are and the fact they start every morning, after bringing me breakfast in bed, with:

“Mommy, after we’re done feeding the homeless, what can we do for you today?”

You would understand why you need me in your life — on a daily basis. Moment by increasingly dull moment. Not sure how to parent your kid effectively, read this. Wondering how to talk to your teenager, have no fear, check out this.  Thinking of improving your marriage? Look no further, I have all the answers here. I’m practically an expert on everything and I have the checkbook, the debt, the kids who adore me and the perfect marriage to prove it. Face it, you really can’t go on without me and my “advice”. (See, you didn’t even realize I was giving advice, did you? Don’t worry, neither did I.)

So, help me think of a name for a Twitter account. It can only be 15 letters.  Your spouse, life partner, mother, sister, boss, friend will thank you for it. Or at least I will…

Yeah sure, I’ll talk to him

I got a call from one of my kid’s teachers today. It was the same story I’ve heard many times before. This time it went something like this:

Teacher: “Your son has been told numerous times to come into the class and put away his books. He consistently fails to do it in time; he’s too busy talking.”

Me: “Yes, he told me he had 5 points deducted because he had his book in his lap.”

Teacher: “Yes, it’s supposed to be inside his desk or at his feet.”

Me: “Oh, ok.”

Teacher: “I give them all a couple of minutes to put away their things in the beginning of class, but your son never pays attention to the time.”

So that’s when I tell them in the shortest length possible, I know. I know he’s unable to do anything in the exact time alloted. He daydreams, he fidgets, he creates things with paperclips etc…but never what you ask him to do right that second. Then I apologize and tell them I’ll talk to him. His story is entirely different, but there are still enough similarities to see and sympathize with the frustration he’s feeling.

We can go on and on that it must be our parenting; he must listen and instantly obey. But…he’s not going to. The reason I know this is because his father is the same way.  He doesn’t even hear half of the things going on around him. He, like my son, can observe the tiniest object in  a place no one would ever look and remember its exact placement, but realize the person in front of him is on fire — no way. They could both instantly recognize a tree has lost 3.5 leaves from a certain branch they walked by the other day, but if you asked them to hand you a pair of scissors they will forget by the time they reach the drawer. Meanwhile they’re contemplating where those 3.5 leaves could have gone. And if they did go somewhere it was probably some far off land…

You know, the far off land where only “artsy” people’s minds wander. I imagine it looks something like The Yellow Submarine movie or a Van Gogh painting.

I know it must be annoying if you’re a teacher. I know it is as a mother and as a wife. It’s annoying to me because I am so firmly planted in this world… I’m a complete and total stressed out mess. There is no wandering to a far off land; I’m too busy worrying about the dirt that’s right under my feet.

And you know what? I’ll never be an artist. I’ll never “see” what these people see. I’ll never live in their far off land. And you know what? That Sucks for me.

The more time goes by the more I realize, public school doesn’t teach you anything but the basics and if you’re “special” in any sort of way it’s just something  hopefully you can deal with and still come out of with at least a speck of self-esteem.  Basically, school — you suck.

Sex and the morning

Jason thought I should title this ” State of Denial”. Damn morning people.

My husband leaned over to kiss me goodnight last night and lingered. I brushed him off, telling him I was too tired. He whined for a second and even threw in, “Are we ever going to have sex again?” I answered, “We had sex Saturday, it’s only Wednesday.” He looked at me blankly like — Yea. Exactly. It’s already Wednesday. That’s 4 days.

I laughed and pushed him away.

As he sulked on the other side of the bed, I turned around and flopped my arm on him and apologized. He shrugged. I said I had too much on my mind and that I loved him, but I was exhausted.  And I am. See, I already need about 23 hours of sleep a night. I recently read a study about living longer and they said anyone who sleeps more than 2 hours a night (ok, it was 8 ) was actually hurting their health because they must be making up for hangover or something.  Really? I’ve had one or two hangovers a week in my life, and regardless I could sleep forever.

Rip Van Winkle has nothing on me. I will think up every excuse I can when the alarm clock starts ringing.

I don’t need to wash my hair? A little ponytail holder and we’re good. Snooze.

I don’t need to put on make-up? I can do that in the office or in the car. Snooze.

I don’t need to make breakfast, don’t they serve it at school? Snooze.

I don’t really need a shower; I smell fine and it’s  nothing a little deodorant and perfume can’t handle. Snooze.

I tell myself, “Self, it’s ok. Just use this time to pick out an outfit for work by visualizing your closet. ” Snooze.

Before it’s all over and done with, I’m basically jumping out of bed, grabbing my toothbrush, throwing together an outfit with a couple of pairs of shoes (so I can decide in the car which ones looks best) yelling at my children; “Mom overslept again, so let’s hurry! Sorry, no time for breakfast, I’ll run in a store and buy you doughnuts some fruit as a treat on the way to school…Chop-chop.”

Then I’ll let my daughter choose whatever clothes she wants and she’ll pick the smallest ill-fitting stained shirt she wore to bed sometime this past week, with an impossibly non-matching skirt and flip-flops — she would never purposely choose socks. I’ll throw them all in the car with my toothbrush still in my mouth and get halfway out of the driveway before realizing I don’t have my cell phone or make-up bag. Then I’ll hobble up the driveway with one shoe on, wave at my neighbors walking their dogs and all the while I’ll curse myself for not getting up sooner.

But at least I’ll be more awake for my marriage’s sake…

And Now for Something Completely Different…

So I’ve been at a loss for what to write, besides those great stories that come into my head while I’m falling asleep. Gosh those are good stories, the verbage is so eloquent, everything falls into place and comes out exactly how I mean it.  It’s perfect. Novels, blog entries, the little assignment sent home by one of my children’s teacher asking me to describe my child, man they’re so good. I should get a tape recorder.

But alas, all I have is the dribble that comes out in the daytime.

It’s back to school time here in the South. Yes, the kids have heat advisories warning them to stay inside for recess, but there is air conditioning which is more than our house had for half the summer.  Anyway, even though it’s hot, it’s time to “get it together”. The routines, the bedtimes, the early wake-ups, the homework, the after school activities, the babysitters, the forms (oh my God – why are there so many forms?), dinner at a reasonable time, the homework, did I mention the forms?

It’s a time better suited to cooler weather. Cooler weather tends to make you want to have some routine. Hunker down so to speak (that’s a Florida term for what you do when a hurricane is coming — why I thought it works here, I don’t know). You know you feel the need to get things done, the need to “make it happen”.  Summer is better suited to lazy days at the pool, vacations, sleep-overs, margaritas, water with everything – just not my margaritas. A time when you swear you’re going to start working out everyday and look fabulous in a swimsuit, but not today…Today is for drinking and lying slovenly in a chair by  the pool. Plus it’s too damn hot to work out, I break out in a sweat just reaching over to lift my wine soda out of the cooler.

They’ll close the pool in a week or two, truly signaling the end of summer. The temperature is expected to be in the 80’s; who could possibly swim in that? In a few weeks we’ll start turning on the fireplace to discount the air conditioning which is set at 65. And I’ll start eyeing my boots and scarves, thinking – well, it is awfully chilly in the house…

The routines will start to become, well, routine. We’ll settle in, getting used to the structured days. We’ll think of all we’re going to accomplish this year. I’ll volunteer think about volunteering  for too much and then whine I don’t have any time, spend too much at the grocery store and then think about where to go out to eat every night. I’ll be late to work because someone’s socks are not aligned properly on their toes. It will be another school year, another chance to get it right. Or another chance to really screw it up. But let’s think positive, right now it’s one last chance to spend the weekend in a lawn chair. One last chance to swear off jogging because it’s too darn hot, one last chance to think every night deserves a wine spritzer. One last chance to think eventually the kids will get in bed early.

I know, I know — who am I kidding? I’ll be saying the same thing come December; I’ll just change the type of drink.