Thursday, April 2, 2009

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Code Bedhead

This morning I woke to Thing Two's sweet face standing at my bed.....

"Mom. Are you awake?"

"Mom. Are you awake?"

"Mom. Are you awake?"

Bliss. As I slowly open my eyes, dragging my mind from a sexy dream involving David Brinkley and a hot air baloon, her sweet face...

"Holy shit it's the alarm GOGOGONOW!!!" Thank God Pete is here to supervise the crisis.

I knock Thing Two and her tutu over in my mad dash downstairs, past Thing One, at whom I snarl, "YOU are in TROUBLE!"

"I didn't do anything."

"Maam? Is everything okay there?" says the futuristic box on my kitchen wall.

"Yeah, we're all right, it's just my son..."

"Please enter your bypass code, maam."

I am frantically trying to enter the bypass code while simultaneously digging in my ears with freshly cut fingernails in order to retrieve my earplugs.

Thing Two is yanking on my underwear to get my attention.

"Maam. The code."

"Mom! I want a kiss and a hug"

"Um, it's...I think it's...wait that's for..."

"Mama! I wanna KISS. You kiss me, mom."

"Maam, please state your security code."

"Mom, can I have a honey and turkey sandwhich for breakfast?"

"Mom! A kiss!"

"Maam, if you don't enter the bypass code we have to send a squad."







I just...wait here it...Oh ferchrissakes just send em. I could use the help.

You see, my kids do stuff.

Stuff for which there is no warning, no explanation, no adequate retaliation.

They ply the dog with goldfish crackers and then frame him for their petty crimes.

They wipe boogers on my walls.

They wear, walk on, and make tents out of my clean laundry.

They fight over who gets to say, "fubba fubba John."

They grab my skirt to break their falls.

They disable me with pretend laser guns.

They stick their grimy little mitts in my mouth when I'm not looking.

They spill stuff.

They wreck stuff.

They dump stuff.

They do stuff.

They scream.



They use my sewing supplies for surgical tools.

They paint their own fingernails.

They set off alarms.

So by all means, please send a squad.

Every morning at 7.

And have them pick up some turkey, woudja?

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Monday, February 23, 2009

Today's Weather Report

Warm enough to lock your kids outside without fear of Child Welfare knocking on your door. Do it. It'll make you feeeel goood...

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Pillow Talk

Bedtime with Oedipus...

Me: Isn't Daddy the best daddy in the whole wide world?

Thing One: Well, when I grow up, you're not going to need Daddy anymore.

Me: Why not?

Thing One: Because I'm going to marry you and we're going to have an open house.

Me: What about Daddy?

Thing One: Well, he can take a woman from the open house.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

The Simple Answer is Always Best

Thing One: Why do we have to go to our room?

Me: Because you guys put on all your winter clothes, climbed into the pedestal sink in the bathroom, ran a humongous bubble bath, and danced a jig in it, sending a flood of soapy water, Bobby Brady-style, flowing down the stairs and through the bathroom ceiling, filling our kitchen light fixture with water and effectively leaving us without electricity in the kitchen for days.

That's why.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Who Looks Cuter?

The Prince of Lockjaw or...

The Princess of Snot?

Robert Plant and Alison Krauss: Raising Sand

Best. Album. Ever.

What Do You Think?

Would it be rude to call my sewing teacher at 10 p.m?

Just to come over for a quick looksee?

I can't lay the PATTERNNN!!!!!

Sunday, February 8, 2009

I Didn't Go to Yoga Today

But it's not because one of these

fell out when I unrolled my yoga mat last week.

Hey Check Out the Last Three Pics I Posted...

Do you think Thing One has a crink in his neck?

Thursday, February 5, 2009

One from Thing Two

Knock knock.
Who's there?
I pooped.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Am I or Aren't I

SSuuuuuuuuuper caffeinated?????

Who Looks Prettier in the Princess Dress?

Thing Two or Thing Freaky?

Watch Where You Put that Thing

See this beautiful birdie that Thing One made at preschool?

It's a sad story, though.

Apparently it beaked him in the head!

Guess Where I've Been

Okay, folks, I'm taking a leap here and thinking there might just be one of you left out there. I was always coming back, I swear. I've just really had some things on my mind and needed a little's not you, babe.

I was in rehab. There, I said it.

It's not that I'm not a fairly transparent person in most respects, it's just that, well, how do you go from "Redneck Pedicure" to "I'm an alcoholic and I was abstinent for 16 of the last 17 years and a week after I took that video I took a drink and couldn't stop.

Could. N't. Stop.

So I went to Hazelden. Wonderful place. Spectacular staff. Beautiful Minnesota setting, if I do say so myself.

I'd recommend it to any (other) mental defectives. I'm also writing about it. At the Hazelden Alumni site. Yes, I graduated. With honors. (<--That's a little alcoholic humor.) Fortunately, for me at least, I can also share it with you. Because every story contains experience, strenth, and hope. So you can bet your sweet ass I'm going to share mine. Over here. Can you see that okay?

Maybe someday the twain shall meet.

And hey, feel free to leave me comments, okay? Here, too.

Because neediness is the cornerstone of an alcoholic mind.

I just made that up.