Sorry to get so serious on you folks but I need advice. It will not only save my sanity but hopefully the soul of a good kid who grew up with stupid notions, no expectations, sheltered, coddled, and jaded. As I mentioned upon my triumphant after Xmas return, that change was afoot in my household. My brother has come to live with us. Please read on as I need advice on how to handle this situation. Keep in mind that there is an 8 , almost 9 year difference between us and growing up I was forced into a mothering roll for him. I don’t want to mother him or make him feel like an ignorant ass - that is the environment he was raised him. He is afraid to do anything because he’s never been given a chance. Any project that one would expect a son to help his father.. My father would scream at him and do it himself. For god sakes my brother was swinging a hammer 2 handed while working for our friend installing wood floors!

My brother was removed from college by my parents. He basically went and screwed around his first semester. I can understand this, I did the same thing too. We BOTH were not ready to be out in the world and were quite tired of school. My parents gave no other option, I even asked to attend the local college part time and they vetoed that.. Same thing for him. Because I understand his situation I extended an offer to him. When I found out that the only other option he thought he had was enlisting in the military - a snap decision he thought up in run away from dealing with my Dad, I wanted to give him some place that he would have time to think clearly and decide if that is the RIGHT choice for him. My husband’s brother AND sister have both lived with us before, I know how hard it is but in the end it helped them get a foothold and both a doing ok now, I’d like to give my brother that chance.

The BIG difference is my brother is honestly a SPOILED BRAT with no concept about money, bills, or real life. He was raised this way, my parents sheltered him wayyyyy too much. I hadn’t realized the extent of it because I’ve been out of the house for almost 10 years. When I lived at home I was going to highschool, doing chores and working a job (at some points 2 jobs). I didn’t have a car and could not afford my license b/c the rate of insurance is insane in Boca Raton - that is the other part he grew up in Boca Raton Florida so his view of the world is more than just a little skewed. It’s hard not to be spoiled and reality stupid when the poorest kids at your school drive an old Lexus b/c dad cant buy you new one…

The deal was he could live here IF he helped my husband fix up our house, that would be his “rent money”. His first day here he was so grateful to be out from under my parents that he happily helped mix and pour some concrete. The second day he went job hunting and since then he’s been a spoiled pain in the ass! We got him a day gig as a helper for $9 an hour.. He worked 7 hours came home, complained a bunch, ate some dinner I made and went to bed. The next day DH had to practically drag him out of bed and he complained, ranted and raved about how sore he was and kept trying to beg off of working. My husband got so fed up he turned him loose. My brother thinks that 2 hours of helping is a “full day” around here.. DH has this week off and has needed lil bro to put in an actual full day (like 8 hours minimum).

That aside my father told him he had to start paying his car insurance which is $150 a month. My father then handed him $100 dollars so he could pay for gas and if he played his cards right have some money to put towards the bill that is due next week. After working for 1 day and I guess conserving some of that cash he has the $150 and seems to have quit looking for a job. My husband has talked to him about expecting to make MAYBE 20,000 a year if he works full time and my brother looked at him and says “I don’t know what that means” ! ! ! ! ! ! !

Additionally when quizzed on his living situtation at home we found out that he did NOTHING - not even cleaning his room or his bathroom… His reply? “I guess mom did it while I was at school.. I guess”

So now WE have to teach him not only the value of a dollar but what hard work means. We also have to undo this attitude that blue collar work is beneath him. He was bitching yesterday that what he was doing was “Mexican” work…. That stuff doesn’t fly around here, it wont be tolerated and I think he thinks we are joking! I can’t entirely blame him for his attitude it’s what he grew up hearing not only at home but everywhere in Boca… Blue collar is like a disease there. If people find out you are blue collar they want nothing to do with you unless something is broken.

How can we teach him these things without coming across as total oppressive assholes? I want him to walk away from my home wiser and maybe at some point realize that it has made him a better person…

My house has been home to all manner of creepy crawly eewy creatures. When we bought the house we had 843 spiders along with 40,000 roaches for roommates. A 6 pack of bug bomb and a shovel for the carcasses took care of the roach problem and some of the spider problem. Later we had DH’s company come in and eradicate the rest of the spiders as well as the BABY SCORPIONS that were living in our attic (guess how we found out about THAT one.. Yes, I got stung). Ever since the last great bug eradication we have been finding tiny turds all over the unfinished portion of the house. We’ve set traps, nothing, we’ve (by we I mean the Hubster) crawled around in the attic, we’ve left rodent bait.. nada. Today the Hubster shed some light on our turd problem… It’s lizards. My house is full of lizard poop. How does one identify a lizard log as opposed to a rat dropping? Here’s some free education people, file it away in your mind rolodex because you never know when you’ll need to identify lizard poop. Lizard poop is dark with a white spot or “cap” on the end. Apparently it’s also possible to smash up fresh lizard poop and see all the insect parts that the lizard has consumed such as identifiable wing structures and such (insert gagging noise here). If you like to know a little more about creature crapping you can check out THIS LINK and the rest of you can reach for your air sickness bag which should be located in the back of the chair directly in front of you. Thank you and have a nice flight.

If all this titillating turd talk has left you thirsting for more blog fun check out my new renter Madbull. Just clicky click on the top picture of the side bar. I’m proud to be listed among his links and quite enjoy the sarcasm and self deprcation found there.

Happy HNT, in light of all the holiday gluttony I thought I would bring you a picture of my timer. As you can see it’s clearly in the “not done” position indicating that I did NOT in fact eat to much food. Long ago my belly button used to be cute, almost sexy. The only thing keeping it from sexy status was it’s cavernous depth. It was a full knuckle deep! You could hear the ocean if you put your ear up near it. These days it’s just a belly button. My mother had hoped I’d become a Star Belly Sneetch once I had my kids, just as her belly button is a star shape after 3 kids. I tried to bring photographic evidence but was beaten thoroughly and threatened with the loss of my new XOXO cherry purse.

If you’d like to check out my favorite HNT of this year CLICK HERE I don’t want to post on the front page again but let’s just say it was my MOST POPULAR HNT and was done in the name of charity, namely the boobie-thon.

Hoping everyone had a merry jolly holly Christmas and Channuka time. We have returned home but some change is afoot in the Fidget household, nothing I can talk about just yet. If it comes to fruition it will provide hours of Fidget kevetching fun. Will update soon with stories and side splitting fun. As a preview, my oldest Mira (3.5 yrs) walks up to her Auntie K pokes her in the generous bustline and says is a giggly I know your secret kind of voice “You have big boobies!” Grandpa walks up at this moment, blanches white and chugs a beer…. If it’s THAT obvious to a 3.5 yr old that his darling youngest daughter is well endowed what must the rest of the world be thinking??

Happy Holidays everyone. I’ll be taking a break for a few days, you’ll just have to stare at Santa and wait with baited breath for my sparkling commentary to return to Finding Yourself.

If you are jonsing for a good read while I’m gone, check out my renter - Jane Loves Tarzan. Click on that thumbnail at the top of my sidebar.

Smooches to all

Happy Holidays everyone! Welcome to the Christmas episode of Half Nekkid Thursday. This week I found myself decking the halls with no clothes at all!

3 Christmas Wishes for bloggers
I’m sending Landismom A channuka bush so her secular jewish husband can feel included in the festivities. Go ahead and top that sucker with a menorah and hang some gelt for a little bling
I’m sending Jay a martini glass big enough to swim in and a poloroid because I want some pictures of the mayhem that ensues.
I’m sending Alyssa some sanity as she journeys her way through turbulent tides and self discovery

What would you give to the bloggers in your world?

Apparently I made Baby Jesus cry with my carrot porn yesterday, I’m such a naughty blogger. Incidents like this only add fuel to the argument that I should give church a try. Raised by Atheist parents, my only interaction with church has been neighborhood folk who wanted to save my little soul. Most notably the neighborhood Bible Thumpers who every year at Christmas would place giant birthday card for Jesus on their roof. Spelled out in blinkie lights was “Happy Birthday Jesus, We Love You!” I’m surprised my mother would let me within 50 feet of their house. My mother’s atheistic aspirations were driven by her temple. While attending Jew school her rabbi misused his post and was often fondling and inappropriately touching his students, what God would allow that? God must be dead. Thus I grew up hearing that only idiots believed in God and threw away their money and their brains following a non entity such as God.
My husband on the other hand was raised in churches. He attended a Lutheran school for K- 3rd grade and had gone to church basically since he was born. Not long before I met him his attendance had dropped off. His parents had a falling out at the church and his step mom decided to convert to Judaism and then attempt to become orthodox (that’s a whole ‘nother, very LONG entry).
I have always believed in some higher power. I can not tell you if it’s God or Buddha, though I do admire Buddha’s stance on a peaceful existence verses God’s record with things like The Crusades. In AP English we were required to read genesis since it is considered THE MOST controversial book ever written. I have to admit that I gave up when people began begetting others, the only other book I’ve ever given up on being James Joyce “Portrait of the artist as a young man” - snooze o rama (coincidentally James Joyce is the only book I’ve ever willingly thrown away). But back to the matter at hand.
Religion scares me. The fervor that goes along with it, can one really be a casual Christian or Jew and not be made to feel unholy and unworthy? How will I as a person with my outlandish humor and lack of social filter be accepted in religious circles? Will I be welcomed or made out to be a satanic infiltraitor?
My husband has a friend at work who is studying to become a religious leader in his church. Surprisingly, he’s a normal guy. Sadly his wife just left him and they are in the process of divorce, his church is emotionally supporting him as well as paying for seminary school so I’m thinking they aren’t too hardcore if divorce is ok (not that I’m planning one but it’s an intensity indicator). He’s also invited us in the past to some of the socials they have. Apparently it’s a pretty hopping place with socials, dances and the occasional event with a cash bar (!!!). It sounds like some place we MIGHT possibly fit in and if we make friends they might come to our home and not be horrified when we crack open a beer and proceed to drink it in front of the portrait of Mary and Jesus.
What are your thoughts on church? Do you attend? Is my trepidation over involving us in such circles unfounded or should I really fear for the soul lashing to come?

Do me a favor and check out my renter at the top of the sidebar. 3T is great and I must say i’m loving her holiday blog design. Click the link or Baby Jesus will cry even more and ducklings will die.

Tonight as I prepared din din I came across a carrot with an, um, interesting flaw.

It was so, um, interesting that I could not bring myself to shred it into my salad. Further more this, um, interesting formation got me thinking - where do baby carrots come from? Until today I had assumed they were merely whittled down from larger carrots in a thoroughly wasteful and wholly American process where by 1 large carrot becomes 1 tiny baby carrot. I think that you’ll agree that my discovery has proven me wrong. Take a deep breath now as the mysteries of the world are revealed - the TRUE source of baby carrots

Dear PBS,
Thanks for bringing the topic of the birds and the bees to the forefront of conversation with my 3 1/2 year old. Today when we turned on Caillou we were treated to Caillou with the “brit coms” sound track. My daughter was wondering why Caillou wanted to mount Raquel Welsh. I have to hand it too you, the “brit com” sound track synched up incredible well to the animation, much like Wu-Tang Clan does with old school Tom & Jerry. And though I found the British candor to be refreshing as compared to Caillou’s regular whine, it was rather awkward explaining why Caillou was talking about pitching a tent. In the future I hope you can refrain from such mix ups. The last thing I need is Barney expounding on the topic of male impotence or Dragon Tales speaking frankly about gender confusion.

Laying there with my mouth jacked open I was slightly panicked. Senorita Dental Hygenist had no regard for the god given elasticity of my mouth and felt the need to peel, pry and pull my lips to my ears. Tears were welling in my eyes and my right ear lobe was safely tucked in my bottom lip. I simply closed my eyes. When the dentist came in he talked to me. Of course I couldn’t answer but I felt the need to make some eye contact with him. That made me feel uncomfortable considering that his chin was practically resting on my nose. I divided my chair time between unfocused staring at the ceiling, quick darting glances at the dentist when he spoke and squeezing my eyes shut, I just didn’t know what to do! Where do you look when the dentist has your mouth jacked open? Am I the only person who worries about this? I need answers. 2 visits this week filled 4 cavities and sealed 10 teeth - 10! I have another appointment after Christmas where I have to get 4 more cavities fill - yikes! 4 cavities worth of chair time and I need to know what the hell to do with my eyes people!