Phone Calls, The Skinny, and Kokopelli

Charley called last night, Whoot! It was actually morning for him, but what ev. The good news? He called before the kids went to bed so they actually got to talk to him. Oldest filled him in on how school is going, and how we "get" to make a diorama for school. And by "get" I obviously mean "forced." The amount of homework coming home is killer.

Littlest decided to talk about the Army and how she misses her Dadda when he is away at the Army. Might have shed a tear, her not me, and then she was distracted by America's Funniest Home Videos. Dadda didn't mind as the result was a big belly laugh with some snorting thrown in. Poor kid, she gets that from me.

I was telling Charley about the homework situation:

Me: So Oldest's math homework just about killed me yesterday. There was long division, fractions, and word problems.

Charley: Let me guess, you couldn't do the word problems.

Me: WHAT! How did you know!

Charley: Well, it wasn't too hard to guess, you couldn't do the 3rd grade word problems either.

Me: It really is lame, who needs word problems anyways?

Charley: You better get a math book and figure out how to do them, otherwise the Teacher will think you are blonde.

Me: I hate you.

In other news I have decided I hate the Olympics. They make me stay up way to late at night and make me feel like I have to work out. Why? Who knows, something about being skinnier than me. Except for the speed skaters of course. Have you seen the SIZE of their thighs? I mean really? But they do get to wear super fantastic spandex so I guess it isn't a total loss.

So now my abs are killing me and I walk all funny due to the rubber bands that have replaced my legs. All I am gonna say is I better get the skinny with a quickness. For Real.

My bloggy friend Rabbit recently wrote about Kokopelli who is this guy:

And if you have seen Littlest Punk's floor, which most of you haven't but I will tell you anyways, she has two of these guys depicted in a tile mosaic. Smack Dab In The Middle Of Her Floor. She calls them her "Dancing Men."  Unfortunately, that description is a bit too accurate. As Rabbit points out: 


"Legend has it, everyone in the village would sing and dance throughout the night when they heard Kokopelli play his flute. The next morning, every maiden in the village would be with child."


To which I say, if there is any "dancing" or "magical flute playing" I will attack the floor with a sledge hammer.


That is all.

Are You Smarter Than A 4th Grader? No.

The best thing about homeschooling your punks is that they KNOW you are smarter than they are. You get to pick subjects that let you rant and rave and show how much cooler you are than them. Because you are smarter. Oh, and prettier.

Unfortunately for me, my home school reign has officially ended, as of yesterday. And nothing is worse than KNOWING you are not as smart as the other 4th graders. My punk might be, but I am not. I struggled with his homework last night like you wouldn't believe. He picked up on what was happening long before I did.

I can handle the long division, I can handle the fractions, and the mixed fractions. But the word problems? I know that at one point I knew how to solve them. And I remember it being easy. But last night, nada. And really, who cares that SoandSo had 2343 dollars after a week and saved 343 dollars more each day and how much did he save on each day? All I know is that I want to save $2,343 a week! Show me the MONEY!

And really, if someone has to take a boat, an airplane, and a train ride then they could prolly afford to charter a plane and cut out all the middle crap anyways. It would save them tons of time in the long run. Geesh.

So wish me luck, and lets hope I can keep up with the homework. Otherwise I might have to admit to the punk that I am not as smart as I have made myself sound all year. And that would not be cool AT ALL.

Just to prove I am the prettier one, here is Charley in his 

birth control glasses. Army issued of course.

And speaking of Charley, it has officially be a week since I saw him last. I am over it. He can come home now. Aarrgg. The good news? He made it over without any incident, and will be in Afghanistan itself in a few days. 

Not my Usual, but This Time its OK

I am not usually a "Giveaway" freak. I don't re-tweet, I don't use MrLinkys, nada. But today I really really really want to win this super fab flat iron from Mass Hole Mommy, so here I am groveling. Groveling in the mud, with my nose full of dirt.

Anyone who has seen the Cousin It experiment knows that I need serious hair care. For Real. And I am thinking this flat iron with magically turn me into Lady Ga, complete with glittery star stickers.

Go check Mass Hole Mommy  if you don't believe me. I need more Ga in my life. And I have a long, long way to go. Proof:

And to take this horrific image out of you sweet brain, I leave you with this:

I Too Can Chanel Lady Ga

Having a bit of fun with InStyle.com and their handy dandy "makeover" maker, thingy. Here are two of my FAVes!!!

This is what I started with. Look! You can see my plant! I grew it all by myself and everything!!!!

This is me channeling Julia Roberts. Um, does this hair make my already gianormous nose look even bigger? 

Oh the Lady Gaga look. I think I can pull this one off pretty well. Nothing says "Psycho" quite like the super big blonde with super green eyeshadow. I love you Ga.

Now I am off to the Wally World to purchase large quantities of bleach for my doo, then off to Sally Beauty Supply for some killer extensions. Wait, maybe I should go red?

InStyle, here I come again! 

The Pukes and the Lonely Toothbrush

My girls came, they stayed, and the pukes concord. And now its lonely at my house cause every one left me. Huh? I realize that I am not exactly making sense today but bear with me.

Ok, so really what happened is Bekum brought baby Ty-Guy who was slightly sickly to visit me and wallow in a pity party cause my hubbs was gonna be leaving soon. Sick baby snuggles are the best, they are all warm and smooshey, and cuddly.

Only then on Sunday Bekum was violently attacked by the pukes. And unfortunately for her she and T had to drive back to NC on Monday. Like 12 hours in the truck with a sickly baby and a puking Bekum. Didn't envy them at all. Not one bit. Then we get the word that C has to leave for Afghanistan. Like the next day. Like less than 24 hours notice. Not cool.

Did I mention that my big bro came to visit too? And C's army buddy spent the weekend here. So we were full, to the top, kinda bursting at the seams. And there was vomit.

My big bro, Coolio, left Tuesday morning. And then I had a vomit attack. I almost NEVER have the vomits. Ever. C had a few things to do at hq and got back home around lunch. I slept the entire day. I think I finally woke up at around 8pm. Exactly how I wanted to spend my hubby's last day at home. NOT.

I woke up, he crashed, and at about 12:30 in the AM I had to wake him up. And then he woke the kids. We all drove to Post. Almost made it there incident free, but right before the hq building our littlest punky punk started the pukes. Pull over, puke in parking lot, buckle back up, get to building. Cry a lot, say good bye, cry some more, start the lonely drive home.

Almost made it home incident free, but littlest punky punk wasn't finished with the hurling. Pull over, puke in parking lot, cry some more, realize scary guys walking towards truck. Buckle quickly, tires spinning, get the hell outta Dodge. Puking continued the remaining 11 miles home. It is now almost 3 am.

Get in, give bath, clean vomit, take littlest punk to bed with me, wake up 403894 times to hold the bucket for her. Finally remember the Children's Pepto hidden in medicine cabinet, grab bottle. It was EMPTY. Who puts and empty bottle back on the shelf???? Apparently I do. Give littlest punky punk 1/2 of an adult Pepto. Hope she can handle it. Sleep for 30 minutes or so, Oldest Punky Punk wakes for the day.

Haul self out of bed, go to bathroom to brush the teeth. My toothbrush is lonely. It is all alone. It will be about 6 more months before her companion returns for a quick visit, and another 6 ish after that before her companion is back for good.

Poor toothbrush, I feel her pain.

Randomness

I know you have been chomping at the bit to know whats been running through this head of mine; so I am gonna let you have it! Welcome to the second Random Thoughts on a Random Day!

1. My three year old wants her own bathroom. Background info: We have 2 bathrooms in our house, 1 upstairs (MINE! and I am not sharing!) and 1 down stairs, the downstairs is for the  kids. "The Kids" are a 9 year old punky boy and the 3 year old punky girl.

I asked the girl punk why she was going upstairs, and she responded that she was going to use MY facilities. Oh no she didn't! I corrected her by screaming at the top of my lungs  gently reminding  her that she has her own bathroom. Response:

"But Momma, brother has poops all in it. I need a clean one!"

Which brings us to #2,  hee hee.

2. Regardless of how many times you tell a punky 9 year old about the goodness of a courtesy flush he never seems to remember and proceeds to clog said potty with giant wads of tp. And don't get me started on poo rings.

3. The Lady Ga was on GMA. I LUVRE the Lady Ga.

Your Welcome

4. We have about 3 inches of snow outside. The snow is covering about an inch of ice that I discovered while trying to take the trash to the curb for pick up. We live on a hill and I busted my B-Dub booty, proceeded to slide down the driveway on the Booty, and deposit the trash all over my yard. The trashcan is sitting in the middle of the yard while I consider "plan B" which will not involve B-Dub Booty Busting. I might even pick up the trash at some point.

5. My sister is 13 weeks pregger! Whoot!

And that is all Webbies, until next time.

Random Bumper Stickers

I keep getting e-mail about super fab bumper stickers that HAVE to go on my rocking out 94 Camry. I guess the fact that my car was indeed birthed in 1994 does seem to grant it special bumper sticker wearing privileges, all senior citizens should have stickers riding on their bum announcing to the world their (in this case) political affiliations. Its a privilege that comes with age, get over it and like it. Here we go!

Ok, ok, ok, I get it. I am feeling a bit "Anti" today. Obama fans need not feel bad, I am against EVERYTHING today, and it isn't my fault that someone made such rad bumper stickers and that my mother e-mailed them to me. Or that C and I laughed for-ev-er about them. Get over it.

Additionally, the countdown has begun. Less than 1 week left of Charley loving. Today Tennessee, next week Afghanistan. But the super fantastic fabulous butterfly filled sparkley glitter fun fact is that my Bestie Bekum, Tee, and baby Ty-guy are all coming to visit on Thursday!!! It's important to squeeze this visit in as C has not yet made the acquaintance of Ty-guy.

Until we meet again Webbies!

Might not post so much cause we are gonna spend some "quality" time before C leaves us. I will be back when I can!