Ahh, Visits to the Doctor

I finally caved and got myself in to see the Doctor this morning. Oldest is in arse end of spring break, Littlest is the allergy queen, and I am the now over medicated.

Have you read the Twilight series?? I will shamefully admit that I have. And I have seen both movies. In fact, I might just OWN both of the movies- but only because Oldest likes them way more than I do. He even did a calendar countdown to the day of New Moon's release.

Well, one of the characters is Carlisle, a vampire doctor guy, who is described as the hotness. In the movies he is NOT what I had pictured in my head, but for an older guy I guess he isn't too shabby. Maybe.

Yeah, I only wish my Doctor could compete with Carlisle. He can't. Some people get the Cullen, and the rest of us get this:

Now, knowing that Mr. Dr is a bit of a weenie I knew I had to be somewhat patient with his bedside manner. Or lack of bedside manner I should say. (Um, I think he was hitting on me at one point). Basically I had to throw down and demand more Xanex so I can make it through a day without strangling myself (or my punks) (or my dog) (or the neighbors punks) (I think you get the picture).

Turns out he called my Xanex and raised me some Ambien. He fooled me with his p-p-p-p-p-p-poker face. Then, just to make sure there were no hard feeling for the whole "hitting on me thing" he threw in some Zolof, recommendations for therapy, AND threatened blood pressure meds. Then, get this B-Dubbers, he said I need to work out. That is basically the EXACT same thing as callin me fat. OBESE EVEN!!!  I left that office feeling a bit like Fat Bastard. 

And the killer? I DO work out. 5 dang days a week. Jerk.

 

Phone Calls and Peach Ceilings

As I mentioned several times, we live in a Log Cabin. Its a great Cabin and I mostly love it. What I don't love is the few walls that are Sheetrock instead of wood paneling. I don't love them simply because they are painted PEACH. Who paints their walls peach? Not me, that's who. And to make matters worse; the upstairs bedroom and bathroom had matching PEACH CEILINGS. Who paints a ceiling peach? An Idiot, with a capitol "I."

I became a rebel with a paintbrush this week and painted those peach ceilings white. You heard me, I did it. I loudly and proudly exclaim to the world that I painted those peach ceilings white, without permission from the folks we are renting from. Rebel? Thats me! Last night I was a very UNhappy B-Dub. Painting ceilings are NO FUN. Especially after 4 hours at the park and a strength training workout for my legs. I was hurting something fierce by 1:30 in the AM when I finally finished. Is this the face of a happy B-Dub? I think not.

As if I needed any other reason for the angriness, I was also dealing with this:

Stupid hours spent at the Park. : (

But this morning provided some excellent entertainment to distract me from my misery of aching butt regions and sunburned top regions. Littlest was chatting it up on this old cell phone my big bro Coolio gave to Oldest. And by chatting it up I mean having actual conversations, like "I love my family, but Dadda is at work" and "I have a puppy and his name is Chuey-baca," et cetera.

The second time she started with the talking on the celly I could have sworn I heard someone talk back to her. Impossible, there is no service associated with that particular phone. She couldn't have call anyone, Right?

Wrong. She was having a very merry conversation with the ever so happy 911 operator. You hear me, Littlest called 911 and filled her in on the status of each family member, including the dog; and talked about going back to the park, wanting to go to McCrappies for lunch, and how we have not yet brushed her hair this morning. 

Needless to say, that phone no longer has a battery. And, I am now convinced, my kids wish to cause me bodily harm in the form of busted blood vessels in my eye. Or maybe my ear, either way. Send help, Xanex, and blood pressure medication ASAP.

Oh, and just in case you are wondering what a peach ceiling looks like part way through its transformation:

It was similar to living in a cave. Badness.

White Kids Can't Dance. Brown Dogs Can.

I hope in like 15 years I am still hip enough to throw down at a club. I mean, I love shaking the B-Dub Booty and all. I am even working on a patent for the B-Dub Booty Shake, which, just in case you haven't heard, is all the rage these days! Unfortunately neither of my punky punks have inherited my shaking skills. I blame Charley. So, really, in 15 years I better go to different clubs than my kids- I would hate to put them to shame on the dance floor. Schooled by your Mom? Sads for them.

Good thing for me, dogs take after their owners. That's what everyone says anyways, and tonight I was able to prove that a) my punks lack skills, b) my dog is a whole lot like me, and c) for an hour of entertainment all you have to do is turn on some jams and let the kids free.

Yeah, prolly should have brushed her hair... : ( 

He is calling this move "The Robot." Poor kid.

Headbangers Ball 2010?

I don't even know what to say...

Chubaca decided to show them how its done 'round here

CHECK OUT HIS AIR ON THIS MOVE

I swear to you, skills like his can't be taught. You either have it or you don't. Finally, I have someone I can completely relate to. 

Notes of Interest: 

1. my camera lens is dusty.

2. Please excuse the blinds- hazard of the B-Dub Booty Shake, I know your jealous.

3. Also excuse my lack of floor cleaning this weekend. It isn't anything personal. If it was personal I would have made sure the mess was bigger- special treats for special friends and all that.

The Day I Almost Went to Jail

Today was a day like no other. And I have had some doozies, but today takes the cake and will forever be known as "The Day I Almost Went to Jail."

In an effort to Keep it Real, like I always do, I'm gonna give you the play by play- with my internal thoughts in orange.


Phone rings:
Me: Hello?
Lady: Is this Mrs. B-Dub?
Me: Um, yes.
Lady: Hello, how are you doing today?
Me: Um, okay?
Lady: Great, good to hear (ok, is this some telemarketer? Seriously, get to the point already) I am Mrs. So and So from your child's school. (Oh crap, here it comes) And I need you to come and pick up your son as he decided to bring a knife to school today.
Me: WHAT!?!?!??!?!? Are you serious?? (Oh man oh man, he finally did it. He freakin snapped, he prolly stabbed that kid he calls his "Arch Enemy." Oh my, I am gonna kill him. This is it, I am actually gonna have to kill him.) Ok, I will be there as soon as I can get out the door.

I throw some clothes on Littlest, grab some shoes and head out the door. These are my thoughts along the 5 mile drive to the School.

I wonder if the police are already there. What the hell happened???? How did he get a knife in the first place? He knows better! I am sooo gonna kill him, that's it. I guess I should call my mother so she can pick up littlest so she won't have to go into foster care. How am I gonna explain this one to Charley? "Sorry Dear, Oldest took a knife to school and stabbed some kid on the bus and then I strangled him. Don't worry though, I shouldn't be locked up for too terribly long. Maybe I can even get out before you get back from Afghanistan! Wouldn't that be good?" Ok, maybe not. No, definitely not, I think he will be pretty pissed that I killed his kid and all. Maybe I don't ACTUALLY have to kill him. Maybe the po-po will already have him locked up and I won't be able to get my hands around his neck!


Arrive at the school. (Wait, why aren't there any cop cars here? Shouldn't there be sirens and flashing lights? Thats what happened at Columbine. I mean, I know it was a knife and not a gun but what the heck! Oh no, maybe they are just waiting for me to come before they call the coppers. Wait, that doesn't make any sense.


Enter office, start signing into the visitors log. Ladies behind the counter start whispering to each other. All I can hear is "Go get so and so, his Mom is here." Great, they are anticipating my violence. Not good. Perhaps this "So and So" is the one that is gonna call the cops. I can't believe this is happening.


Get called back into the principals office (yeah, you never lose the terrible butterflies involved with the dreaded "Principals Office" NEVER.

Lady: The reason we called you in today is because Oldest decided to bring a knife to school today. (Yeah, thats what you said on the phone, get to the point already so I can strangle him) We are relieved to tell you that we don't think he actually meant to hurt anyone, he just wanted to show off for his friends. (What? Didn't hurt anyone? Does not compute. Holy Moley, does this mean I don't have to kill him?)

Me: Oh, well, thats good. I mean that he didn't hurt anyone, not that he brought the knife to school or anything. Cause that is still really bad and all....

Lady: Well, yes, I think. Anyways the point is that the principal is out sick and the assistant principal is out of the building for the morning, so basically we just need you to take him home and the assistant principal will give you a call when he gets in.

Me: So, what your saying is that he didn't actually hurt anyone? (she nods) And he was just trying to show off? (Nods again) And I don't actually have to go to jail today? Or call my Mother to come and get Littlest so she won't have to go to foster care?

Lady: Um, I'm not sure what you mean...

Me: Um, well, this is a little awkward. Anyways, the point is that not one was hurt, and I just have to take him home instead of Jail or whatever?

Lady: Um, are you okay? I don't know why you thought you would have to take him to jail...

Me: .....  .......   ......   ......    .......  ....... ..... .... .. .. Well, isn't that what usually happens when kids go psycho and start stabbing other kids at school? I mean, its not like I have much experience with it, as I have never actually stabbed anyone before or anything.....

Lady: Mam, is there someone you can call to hang out with you for a while?

Me: You have no idea. Anyways, I am just rambling because I am so relieved that I don't have to kill my kid today. Um, yeah just rambling. Soooooo I guess we are gonna leave now. I hope you have a great day! Um, and if you don't mind, the next time you call to tell me that my kid brought a knife to school can you please go ahead and tell me that he didn't stab anyone. Cause then maybe I won't freak out so much. That would probably be great for me. Maybe, you should work on your phone skills, cause you really had me freaked the  heck out.

Lady: Excuse me?

Me: Never mind, we are just gonna go now. I think I need a Xanax.

Exit office.


Yeah, another great parenting moment by B-Dub.

Oh, and FYI the "knife" was actually a multi-tool that had a little pocket knife as one of the attachments. And Oldest had it because we were making a 72 hour Emergency Kit and the paper recommended we include a multi-tool, cause you never know when one will come in handy. The blade is exactly 1 inch long, so I don't actually think he could have seriously damaged the Arch Enemy, even if he wanted to. And, as he repeatedly tells me, he just wanted to show off how cool it is to his friends, he didn't actually want to hurt anyone.

And he gets to go back to school tomorrow, only he is officially suspended from the bus.

Probably, no harm no foul.

McCrappies hearts Shoe Dazzle

The rain hasn't stopped in two weeks. TWO WEEKS people. That is 14 days of cooped up kids, 14 days of ripping out my hair, 14 days of not going outside EVER. Pretty much hell on earth.

Last night we had to go to a fund raiser for Oldest's school at Chick-fil-a. So, it wasn't like pulling teeth to get the kids out the door for a change. However once we arrived the screeching started. Littlest can out-screech the best of 'em, and it makes you want to shove a rusty spoon in your eye. We didn't stay for too long, perhaps an hour tops- long enough for the kids to finish their dinner and play in the play area for a bit. It was time to go when Oldest came out of the play land and said it smelled like dirty wet socks. Once whiff confirmed it and I decided it wasn't worth the kids getting athlete's foot just to burn off energy. It smelled BAD.

This morning Oldest forgot to take his lunch to school with him, so Littlest and I had to run it up there. I figured that since I had to leave the house I might as well get dressed. I even put on makeup and heels. But not just any heels- my Shoe Dazzle, picked by Kim K, stylish kinda heels. They are silver, strappy, and the heels and platforms are silver snake skin. Who doesn't feel fabulous wearing silver snake skin? No one, thats who.

So after dropping of Oldest's lunch I decided to take Littlest out for lunch. Wasn't trusting the Chicky, prolly all stinky still. The only alternative for an indoor play land is McCrappies. Yeah, I went in there sporting my silver snake skins. All the other Moms were jealous, I could tell.

And then something remarkable happened, Webbers. Remarkable. Are you ready??

I met another Mom who:
1) recently moved to Ft Campbell and
2) has a kid the same age as Littlest and
3) she has no friends yet either.

Needless to say it was my Shoe Dazzles that sealed the deal. I know she was thinking that I had to be the coolest Mom in the area. Shoes tell a lot about a person and mine are screaming "HIPSTER."

She not only asked for my digits but also has volunteered her hubs to watch ALL THE KIDS so we can go work out. And by "work out" she means check out Dunbar Cave and see what their trails are like, so not really working out at all basically.

The stars have aligned themselves today. Bekum is already JEALOUS, and has informed me in no uncertain terms that I am NOT allowed to like my new friend and her punks more than I like her and baby Ty-Guy. All I can say to that one is "Duh" and guess what else? I won't like her more than Rabbit (BFF winner) or Mr. The Savage (BFF RU (Runner Up). I never forget the people who got me to where I am today. Even if it is just sporting Shoe Dazzles to McCrappies.

The Hurting Locker

Last night I was sitting around bored after the punks were placed into their beds and decided to watch The Hurt Locker. Lets review:

Excellent Movie.
The part at the end when he is all standing in the cereal aisle, totes true. I have seen the same look on Charley's face more than once.
The adrenalin kick is a force to be reckoned with, it will haunt you in your sleep  (so I hear).

Probably, not the best flick to watch while Charley is in Afghanistan. Didn't sleep a wink last night. Stupid movie.

Chubaca Exposed

I know, I know, I promised this post like days ago but it really isn't my fault it's late!!! See, my computer is almost 6 years old. Super Ancient. And like any geriatric patient it needs a lot of maintenance to keep it running. Newest prob? Registry errors (Code 19 for all the super geeks out there). My computer is officially the Joan Rivers. I don't know how long I can keep it up and running, but we have been through so very much together that the thought of getting a new one feels like betrayal. Not to mention that my CD ROMs aren't working so I can't get all my pics and other such nonsense off of this one to put on another. Sads.

But, true to form Chubaca continues his quest for world domination regardless of my computing issues. Charley used to think I was crazy when I told him that Chuey would speak to me. And he never did believe me when I told him "Chuey made me do it." Well, take this Unbelievers, I have photographic evidence that my pooch is possessed. See:

He is looking at me...

Here he is having one of his "little episodes." Usually there is a lot of rolling

around on the floor, drooling, and sometimes gagging.

See?!?!?! He even grows freakin HORNS!

We tried using baby Ty-Guy to drive the demons out.

We were unsuccessful.

Send Help.