Get a full time job
Go to school and pass your class
Help out around the house to pay rent
DO NOT sleep all day and stay up all night
Pay your bills
Pay for your own food
Save to return to college

I thought they were fair simple and straight forward rules but we have been having trouble with your follow through. I’m glad that you found a job and seem to be doing well with it, however it is still not a full time job. Full time is 40 paid hours per week, minimum. This 40 hours does not need to be all from one job, but you need at LEAST 40 hours.

I know you wanted a complete break from school but passing up the opportunity to have healthcare was not an option I could give you. It is one 3 credit class. It required 1 morning a week and some minor time spent doing class work - that is it. I got a little irked when you purchased the wireless router for $150 verses the cheaper option of buying the software package and doing your work at school. It’s become glaringly apparent that allowing you to set up the wireless router was a mistake. You now spend hours on end secreted away in your room eating bag after bag of starbursts and fucking around on line. When given the chance you stay up all night doing this and then try to hurry to bed just before Troy is due to wake up - yes, we know. When the high speed internet is not working you instead stay up all night talking on the phone.

Considering that you have all of this time and energy you should be holding down a second job quite nicely. Instead you are hiding in my home, refusing to leave your room to even pee because you know that when you do there is a chance someone might ask you to do something. This pisses me off. You are supposed to be earning your rent by working. 2 hours of babysitting (mostly a sleeping child) does not pay the rent. Troy has all but given up on asking you to help, I can wholly understand why. Example: 330 pm Sunday afternoon, you are still IN BED. I ask you to come out and help Troy and you bitch about working 35 hours… 35 hours… Troy works 35 hours in approximately 3 days. Your 35 hours are spread out over 6 days. You have 2 hours one time a week that you need to devote to class and at 8 hours a night 7 days a week - 56 hours that you should devote to sleeping. Where the hell are all of the rest of your hours going? Oo oo oo I know, you are wasting them and in that process you are taking advantage of my family. We all love you and care about you that is why I have been putting up with this. I have been praying and hoping that you might realize the stress you have been causing by not contributing and by hiding from responsibility. Something as simple as taking the empty trashcans up to the house.. You can’t even manage without being directly ordered to do it. Last night you parked so closely to my car to avoid the trash cans that this morning I had to back out to load the children into the car. The only reason the trash cans moved last night is because troy made a point to talk to you about it. For 2 weeks we’ve been hoping you would get the hint or simply exercise common courtesy - neither happened. You took more initiative to find that CD you wanted than you have taken in any other aspect of your life.
As a solution to this problem we could start charging rent. Your portion would be 250 for the room, 50 for electric, 20 for water and 15 for internet. I’m not offering you that option. You STILL owe us $55 from back in January, I doubt you would think it important enough to pay rent on time (especially considering that joining a gym and paying monthly dues was more important then paying your debts). Instead I am presenting you with an ultimatum. I need to see a complete turn around in attitude this week, starting now. I want the remaining $55 dollars paid, I want you asking to help out - if you see someone working, if you think someone is thinking about working, etc I want you asking to help. I’m not giving you a bedtime but I sure as hell want you up before 10 am every morning. I want you to clean out you room, throwing away all the wrappers and putting your clothes in the dresser. If you tell someone you are going to do something DO IT, don’t put it off. If troy asks you to sand something while he’s at work, it better get done, remember this is your rent money. I want to see a current bank statement so I know how much money you have managed to save.
So long as these changes take place you are welcome to stay. If you are still interested in the military as an option Morgan will take you down to a recruiter to make sure that you don’t get screwed over like he did. Mom has said that you may go back home though she is not looking forward to it. She mentioned that she doesn’t think Daddy will offer a warm reception. The decision is yours to make.

Dear readers, can you tell I’m at the end of my proverbial rope with my ungrateful slackass brother?

“Moooom! I got poooooooop”

Oh joys of motherhood. I’m not in the best of moods today. I awoke to the battle cry of the diapered. Once the tush was cleaned, both animals, er kids, were fed and watered I hid myself away in the bathroom. No, this was not some Calgon Take Me Away orgasmic experience. I retired to the bathroom to salivate into a tube - yes you did read that right. Apparently all this weird lactating could be tied to my progesterone vs estrogen levels. It’s not something I envisioned myself dealing with in my 20’s but quite apparently it could be the source of many of my problems. For you long time reader, you remember my journey into mental medication madness, there could be an underlying reason as to why so many different drugs not only failed me but made me more insane - my hormones simply may be out of wack. I don’t deny being bipolar (or cyclothymic depending on who you speak with) but I can’t help but think that perhaps these medications could not help me because there were other things wrong, things that on their own would make one nuts. Now take those factors and combine them with mental illness and it might suddenly explain why everything went so poorly. It’s a shame things had to degrade to the point I’m at now.

*Despite regular workouts and a fairly healthy diet I’m still gaining weight, yet ONLY gaining weight in my thighs and ass. Looking at my face many people have commented that I look like I’m losing weight. Not that I want to complain, but losing weight in my face and applying it to my inner thigh is not my idea of a good trade off

*I am LACTATING despite not having breast fed in over a year. This is not little droplet of residual milk. I have actually woken up wet from a let down - ew!

*I’m having problems with irritability, anxiety, depression, tearfulness (which includes crying at America’s Funniest Home Videos at the man who proposed to his sweetie by shaving “Marry Me” into his BACK HAIR, not exactly a hallmark moment and yet tears were welling in my eyes).

*I’m tired all the damn time. It’s to the point where I want to spend half my day napping and I don’t nap, hell normally I hardly sleep due to insomnia. Right now I could sleep 16 hours get up to pee and sleep 16 more, I’m just that exhausted.

*Extreme brain fog. Some days I have a hard time even speaking in sentences. Last week a friend came over with her kids and I was so bad off she sent me out to procure caffeine, I rarely drink caffeine.

*Mondo urges for sweets, serious I might kill someone standing between me and a cake… or chocolate.. or ice cream… you get the picture.

*Crazy night sweats

There’s some other stuff too but you get the picture. My point is there is SOMETHING else going on and it is somehow tied to my hormones. Maybe it’s my estrogen and progesterone, maybe it’s my thyroid.. at this point I have no clue. In 10 days I might have some indication but until then I sit.. and wait… wanting to sleep… snarling at my loved ones, lamenting my thigh expansion and plotting my next cake. Today I will force myself from my home to drop off my vat of collected saliva (damn “test” collection took 45 minutes, I had to ooze so much saliva that my eyeballs are dry) and send it airborn to people shut away in a lab, who may be able to help me put my life back together.

Part of my Amazon.com order arrived. Being huge fans of “Everyone Poops,” which helped Mira navigate through the turbulent artificial blue waters of learning to poop in the toilet, we naturally turned back to the series to help us once again. You can find out more about this book by CLICKING HERE We bought it paired with The Gas We Pass because who can resist an entire book about farts fully illustrated with an elephant fart blowing two people over? Personally I think everyone should own these books - even those without kids. They are a GREAT ice breaker at parties and have fabulous coffee table book potential. Happy Half Nekkid Thursday everyone.

“Take away, take away, take away this ball and chain”
I’m belting it at the top of my lungs, keeping rhythm on the steering wheel. Tessa is in the back seat doing her level best to sing along when we get stuck in traffic. I don’t know about you but I’m nosy, very nosy, so I take every opportunity I can to look round. Sitting at the light I glance to my left and see this guy smiling shyly. I can’t help but smile back. The light turns green and away we go playing traffic tag. He keeps slowing down in the fast lane just long enough to shoot me another smile. I fall in behind him as the road narrows down to one lane. His license plate indicates he’s driving an official US military vehicle reserved ONLY for “official” US military business, which explains the uniform. This little bit of flirting has me so a’twitter that I miss the turn off for my shortcut- D’oh. At the next light we are turning the same way and it occurs to me that he must think I’m following him. I decide I don’t want him thinking such things - I am a happily married woman after all, and take the opportunity to flick on my turn signal well before my turn. Whoops I think he took it as an invitation! He swings into the gas station and I keep on rolling. A minute goes by and I realize he’s behind me again with his headlights flashing as I turn into my drive way.
“I don’t mean to bother you but do you know the way to the high school?”
I take a minute to explain where he needs to go and then he says
“I’m sorry if I was bothering you, but you are really pretty”
He gives me this million dollar smile, throws his car into reverse and takes off. Damn that made my day!

Yesterday was a constant battle ground. Mira must be enjoying school because she spent yesterday accusing me of withholding it from her. Well, I guess it could be that she is enjoying it or that she is rabid to go and check on her fish blanket. Mama made a boo boo, Mira is required to have a blanket for rest time and foolishly I sent along her fish blanket (one that I sewed for her) thinking “oh won’t it be nice to have a piece of home at school.” WRONG, foolish, WRONG! For 2 days she kevetched and moaned about her damn fishy blanket, she even had her 1st tantrum at school over the blanket (rolling eyes). In any event, Mama promised to right this heinous wrong, which lead me to Walmart. Yes, I know Walmart is evil but where else can one buy fabric at 10pm?

Some how I managed to lose two hours. I could justify this if I had wandered up and down every isle or had I emerged with the week’s groceries but no, neither took place. Thankfully in that 2 hours I managed to settle on new fabric for Mira’s blanket. One side has a bright green background with dancing princesses in pink dresses printed all over it, the other side will be pink with a sparkly white 6 pointed star pattern. I’m using a medium pink satin binding for the edges. When I finally exited the fabric department the disembodied voice of Walmart comes over the PA system “new releases are now available next to the jewelry counter.” I didn’t make much of it at first until I realized this was not an ad, this was informative… The day had rolled over to Tuesday, movie release day… I had lost 2 hours.

WHAT? 2 hours? Gone.. And I hadn’t even made it close to the groceries yet. I counted in my head how many hours of sleep I might get of I beat feet home and went straight to bed. It sounded more appealing then the estimated time I would get if I finished the grocery shopping, drove home, put away said groceries, got ready for bed and then went to sleep- I think that figure came in around something like 45 seconds. I made a mad dash to grab milk, granola bars, cereal, bananas and bagels, enough to carry us till I can make it to Publix. (oh god, I think I’m going to die.. My dog just farted and I don’t know that I will have enough air to finish typing…………………………………………………………………………………)

oh, gag, sorry about that - the perils of living with a bulldog.. Oh god, it’s lingering. Anyone have a match?

um so long story short I lost two hours, forgot to grocery shop, came home, got me a little sumptin sumptin and still managed 5 hours of sleep. By this weekend I shall be redeemed in my daughters eyes as I will have produced a new and better model of blankee.

The really weird part about the whole incident was exiting the store. A dense fog had settled over everything. Visibility driving home was nil. It gave the me the impression of a Sleepy Hallow, 100 year nap kind of deal. When I got home I half expected to find 2 grown girls and grey haired husband.

I’ll admit it, I am brash and loud mouthed. I sometimes say inappropriate things but I have my limits! Today I was out shopping at Ross with about 10,000 other people. With my 4 year old in tow, I was on the prowl for bargains. Searching through housewares the only thing I got was something I wasn’t bargaining for.

” Yes she still drinks and does cocaine, I saw her smoking crack last week (pause) mm huhm well she goes back and forth about it saying oh I’ll keep it, oh I wont, oh but I want it. Then I see her ordering another drink, god she just needs an abortion”

Ok, I would tend to agree that something is going badly but do you need to be yelling about an abortion while rummentating over which curtains would go in your bedroom? I didn’t need to hear this, nor did any of the other 20 people who froze when you started squawking about it. I’m pro choice and people like your friend are exactly why (aside from the whole obvious no one is telling me what to do with MY body issue).

I simply went out to buy some new workout pants and maybe some new throw pillows. I did not want to leave my house and have to dodge my 4 year old who is wondering what an abortion is. Have some sense of decorum. If you can’t manage talk about it in private at least avoid broadcasting it to the world.

In the arms of another man I felt exhilarated and almost dizzy. There was a lightness to me, ease and grace. It was wonderful. I replayed the scene over and over again, at least 10 times over the 3 hours I was there. Standing out on the floor in my husband’s dress socks, my arm on another man’s shoulder, my hand in his grasp I felt no guilt. Admittedly I lied by omission 90% of the night -

“So what do you do?”

I’m an artist

And leaving it at that. Sometimes omitting information isn’t such a bad thing. It gives someone a chance to know you instead of tipping your hand too early and them running like a buck in hunting season. For three hours last night I was whirled and twirled, I was desirable again.

There were a few people I recognized, they know my secrets but alas for them I know theirs too. When our eyes met over the shoulder of an 18 year old I knew there was no reason for them to spill the beans, they were just there to dance. I’m sure had I casually worked my age or my husband or my kids into the conversation my dance card would have emptied out. By all standards I’m old these days, well at least by the standards of an all ages dance. One boy, soft and fresh faced, confided that he went to the local high school. I simply smiled not wanting to tell him he was 10 years my junior, allowing him to whip me around the floor thinking I was merely a college student.

Dancing used to be a regular thing for me. It was required weekly maintenance for my sanity. If there is music I can and probably will dance but if I had my choice I’d be swing dancing. I have always felt very tied to the music. In my grandparents little apartment the record player would crackle and snap to life with big band sounds and my grandfather would try to entice my grandmother into a few steps around the living room. When she would oblige him the electricity in the air was amazing. Watching them step and twirl in synch, the music peeling back the years, always thrilled me. My grandmother’s face flushed pink with delight, her reflection loving displayed in my grandfather’s eyes, I easily could see how they fell in love.

I started swing dancing in 1997. With my best friend and downstairs neighbors in tow we hit a local club downtown that had a swing night. For me this seemed to just come naturally. Ask me to tap and without months of practice I’m a flailing danger. Ask me to arabesque and I am a grotesque cartoon of what a ballerina should be. Ask me to jump jive and wail, step back and watch me swing. That first night I had the basic steps down, by the end of the first month I was entering dance contests.

These day’s I’m far behind the curve of a good dancer. Last night was the first time in 2 years that I fell readily into the arms of another man and obeyed his command. The small signals telling me to turn, step and spin slowly came back to me and by the end of the night I was looking like an old pro. I came home flush with excitement, feeling rather content and confident. I can’t wait to go back.

The only cruel hand that swing dancing has dealt me is my husband. I met him at Atlantic Dance, at the time 7 nights a week of swing dancing. Somehow I managed to fall in love with the one man there who can’t and won’t dance.

A while ago I mentioned my daughter Mira and her special issues. I have spent the last 8 months working towards getting her help. In October she started speech therapy and on Monday it was deemed that 60 minutes a week was simply not enough to address her speech issues, nor was it addressing her “other” currently undiagnosed issues. Wednesday Mira started a specialized PreK program. For 6 hours a day 5 days a week Mira is now off to school. I am elated that she is under the care of people trained to help her instead of merely me, bumbling along and feeling like the worst mother in the world for losing my temper 10,000 a day. But I pick her up from school and then I know I’m the cruelest mommy around. I dropped an entire new routine in the lap of a high ritualistic kid and not only did I drop that bomb on her but I left her alone to deal with it too. Oh rotten rotten mommy! 2 days in, she has had her 1st meltdown. Her teacher handled it with grace. Mira has been sullen and angry upon returning home each evening. She yells and snarls, lashing out and then grabs me up in a fierce hug, not wanting to let go. I think she’s afraid that I’m not coming back when I drop her off and I know that she is lost in the sea of new routines and expectations. I am slow to handle change, I can feel her pain. Tessa on the other hand is blossoming. Out from under the hours of walking on egg shells and the odd demands of her sibling, Tessa is basking in the glow of mommy’s undivided attention. Other people are commenting on how lovely her behavior has been and suddenly sentences have been tumbling from between her rosy pink lips with perfect clarity and quite a bit of humor! It is my hope that this new situation will allow them both to grow independently of one another so they can more enjoy each other.

As you may have guessed from the previous post the Hubster was in quite a bit of hot water. Thankfully the dinner party went well. Dessert was ugly (the top layer of my beautiful sugar cake with triple berry syrup cracked in half and slipped off the top!) but dinner was well received. Cheese enchiladas with Blackbeans and rice with a salad. Our guests were over an hour late - I was livid.

They were not late entirely of their own volition, they were held captive by a mutual friend who KNEW they had a dinner date with us between 530 and 6 pm. I am none to happy about this. That very same friend dropped her children off today while they ran some errands. When I first promised to keep the kids it was suggested we just have dinner together. I remembered this nugget last minute. While the Hubster entertained the kids I whipped up ANOTHER dinner party worth of food. When she called to inform me that she was picking the kids up in 30 minutes after she ran some more errands since her original stuff didn’t take to long and would I mind watching them that much longer? I mentioned dinner. She said she’d have to discuss it with her husband (which means argue for hours) and then would call me right back, she off hand mentioned that they were thinking of eating out but maybe they would have dinner with us instead… So I waited.. And hearing nothing I cooked and then baked and then 45 minutes after speaking with her about being in my home in 30 minutes she called to say that her husband felt ill and they would not be joining us for dinner. 10 minutes later her husband is on my door step to pick up his kids looking fine and dandy. In that 10 minutes my Brother-in-law called to talk to the Hubster. The Hubster mentioned that they might be coming to dinner and brother-in-law informed us that my lovely friend had plans for weeks with HIS wife.. Which means that

a)she originally double booked herself
b) that going out to dinner with her family as a reason not to honor our earlier date was a lie - why not just say oops i messed up sorry!?
c) that her husband was NOT ill - lie number 2
d) it took her 45 minutes to make up those lies and still leave me hanging so I made dinner for 8 instead of dinner for 4
e) She is on my shit list for not only standing us up for dinner, not only taking advantage of my watching her children to get some other stuff done when she knew that my life is VERY hectic right now, not only for LYING repeatedly to me, but also for making my previous night’s dinner guests LATE for dinner with me

Honestly hours before they were due for dinner we were talking and she said - oh they are coming over maybe I’ll stop by.. uh huh, instead she hijacked them by guilting them into coming over. I swear typically she is quite a sweet woman, a bit neurotic but on the whole a lovely person… But lately she’s turned into a mega bitch! I’m thinking it all may be tied to her impending move but at this point I don’t think I’m that sad to see her go if this is how she is going to behave. Good god just tell me the freakin truth, don’t lie and don’t try to sabotage me!!!

OK wow, that was long, Bravo for reading this far. Go check out my renter, I’ve been a shitty landlord this week.

Name some way to piss your spouse off on Valentines

Forget Valentines
Ignore Valentines
Give a Valentine to another woman

Yes these are great examples but how about

(ding)

Invite your sister’s family over to dinner with less than 24 hours notice on one of the busiest days without consulting your wife and you house is a fucking mess.

(ding ding ding)

If anyone needs me I’ll be on my hands and knees scrubbing the floor or doing my damnedest to stuff 500 loads of unfolded laundry in the walk in closet.. or perhaps I’ll be bleaching the laundry room as it flooded this weekend and the mess is still lingering.

Can you guess who’s husband is in deep shit?

I’m sorry, I’m sorry (giggle, giggle.. beep) oh oh I’m sorry (giggle giggle) Lather, rinse repeat for 15 minutes. When we finally roll out the door $240 dollars poorer something just didn’t seem to add up. Sitting in the car I review the receipt and realize a glaring $145 omission. “This moral decision is up to you honey” I hand the Hubster the receipt and he of course opens his door, retrieves the item in question and battles the wind back into the store.

“Thanks for your honesty, that will be $155.36″

No good citizenship discount

We could have walked off with a very nice front door lock set for 5 dollars. The novice cashier only charged us the Rekeying fee that was written on the top not for the rekeying fee AND the brand new lock set. The Hubster and I both know that not paying for it would have resulted in years of ulcers. Every time we saw the front door, feeling a little panic in our souls.

In the car we discussed this.

“I had to return it” he says.” I still remember the time I found and open pack of gum on the floor and took it, for months I was convinced I had ruined someone else’s life because I chewed their damn gum”

“And now?”

“Now I still feel pretty crappy about it”

I closed my eyes and thought about the time I stole a ten cent ponytail holder. It still plagues me on the rare occasion I find myself shopping in that particular mall. The store is long gone and I know they weren’t taken down by my 10 cent 5th grade thievery but I still feel guilty. Years after swiping it I found it stashed someplace in my bedroom, the act of picking up felt like the burning hell fires. It went straight into the trash and I worried my parents would find out… 3 years after the fact.

This is not to say I never took anything without guilt. As a child I would be sent to peel a dollar from the wad in my Dad’s wallet for lunch money and on occasion I would pull out 2 or 3 instead. My 2 cookie limit was always discarded when left alone with the cookie jar. We had a strict laundry rule- any monies under $10 found in the laundry could be kept by the laundresses, I kept $20s and once a $50 bill. I never felt guilt for these acts commit against my parents, no, I felt justified. It mitigated those times when my mother bought my clothing at Kmart and I was tormented by the other kids in school. It lessened the blow of the insults my father would hurl at me “dumb ass” “moron” “fucking idiot” I felt like if he didn’t know I was doing this, then I must not be THAT stupid.

The differences between these situations are not vast, but in my mind there is a huge moral gap. Financially raping my family might bring the occasional pang of guilt but a ten cent pony tail holder made in Chine for a mega corporation, who’s masses of employees are nameless and faceless to me, brands me for life. This tiny moral deviation, in my mind, threatens to send me to the burning depths of hell.

Would you have returned to the store and paid for the lock set considering that you were under charged by $145 or would you have driven off without feeling a pang of remorse?