At Least I'm Not Alone!

I was all prepared to give 12,321 excuses why I haven't blogged lately and then I looked at my reader. Turns out there are TONS of bloggers who can't take the heat and have skipped out- so I won't bore you with my excuses  although some of them ARE really creative and a few are even true. Yeah, I won't even apologize for being gone, I'm just gonna keep on like I never left. Cause you like me that way. And I like me that way. And Chubaca might even like me that way but I decided it was better not to ask. 


And to further distract you TAKE THIS:

This, my Webbers, is my Bo Biscuit. 

He lives in Georgia so I had to go to him. 

And we bonded over Golden Corral biscuits.

And he loves his Auntie B cause she feeds him said biscuits 

(with strawberry jam).

(And M&M's when his parents aren't looking.)

Now that you are totally distracted with the cuteness, I need some help over here. See, on my trip to GA something happened. I was  wrangled into a photography project of mammoth proportion. My Grandpa had a mom- yeah, I know you are totally shocked with that revelation....


Anywho, his mom collected things, like family pictures, and somehow they were passed on to my dad. And he passed them on to me. A whole TUB worth of pictures. And the tub is OVERFLOWING. The upside is that prolly 1/4th of them are actually labeled so I know who they are.... 


And some of them are tintypes (one of the earliest forms of photography) and others are from the late 1800's and early 1900's. Ya know the kind that are fixed onto thick card stock. And they smell bad. Maybe thats cause these were stored in a garage in Texas for years and years and years. And Years. smelly. bad. smells. permeating my house. smelly. bad.


And so here is the part where I need your help. I need a long term storage solution for these photos. Lets face it- even if I don't know who is in them they are still really cool to look at, and they are a small piece of history- my family history to be exact. 


Even better, this nut didn't fall far from the family tree as shown in this tintype of my great great grandfather:

ok, he is the one on the left with the dark hair and mustachio.

Not sure who Country Bumpkin or Colonel Mustard are...

Prepare yourselves for the earliest form of photoshop:

 

Thats right Mr. Arrington! 

I mean great, ummm something, grandpa! 

You rock those pants!

Said the Burro to the Grandpa,

You are one funny guy.

One day your great, umm something, granddaughter

will write a blog and show the world what a funny 

guy you are. 

I mean were, as you are dead by now...

Dangit, now I feel all insensitive. 

Stupid dead man jokes.

crap, I did it again.

But I really do need storage suggestions...

the end.

I Have Some Good News!!!

I didn't die! I vanquished the ticks! Although my mental state is currently debatable resulting from two sugar rushing kids. S'mores are a girls best friend- at least until that girl grows up and has punks of her own that can't seem to sit still or quit talking after consuming the chocolaty goodness. Anywho, I'm alive and crazy- what else is new???

They couldn't seem to keep the chocolate off their hands.

BTW- this is the view from my back door. 

Any question where the ticks come from?

Didn't think so.

This punk says she doesn't care about the ticks 

so long as there are S'mores involved.

I guess it is officially summer as the boy is now out of school. The teachers pulled a mean joke on us parents by loading the kids up with candy to bring home. Any my oldest decided to share with Littlest so I have two sugar high punks to deal with. again. for the second day in a row. help me. please.

Random Pics on a Random Day

Because my punks hate me I have decided to try and cheer myself up by sharing some awesome pics I have taken recently. I sometimes write a "Random Thoughts on a Random Day" post and this is the photo equivalent. 


BTW- I will never cook dinner ever again. It always ends in screaming, tears, tantrums, "I'm not gonna eat that" et cetera. And it isn't like I am cooking fancy here B-Dubbers, I'm talking even the basics like Pot Roast with potatoes, carrots, onions. Or Chicken Alfredo, or freakin spaghetti with Ragu freakin sauce that they specifically freakin asked for and freakin picked out all by themselves at the freakin grocery store. It doesn't matter- If I make it they won't eat it. 


Sorry- needed to rant that one for a minute. On to the funnies.

These are being sold in the MENS DEPARTMENT. I thought the cutoff for action figure undies was 6.

That couldn't have been freakin comfortable, or

 I didn't know dog noses could bend.

 

She cried herself to sleep after bumping her lip on the table. 

The band aids were self applied, I was unaware.

And for this week's winner:

Are you ready????

I need to own this car 'stach. 

I mean I really, really, really, think I need it.

Discuss.

Return of the Mullet, oh, and I Might Die.

Today the coolest thing ever happened! I was at a certain Wally store and there he was. Only, I wasn't sure if he was a he or a she. Kinda had a baby face, it was deceiving okay?? And just so you know there is a Special Place reserved for me in a place thats really hot, for sharing this one.


*Setting*
Checkout line. Super short line, only 1 person in front of me. Older lady. Young boy/girl character.


Boy/Girl character was sporting the BEST MULLET SINCE THE ACHY BREAKY HEART GUY!!!! (so sue me, I can't think of his name at the moment)


Me: (in my head, hopefully not out loud) Oh My Gosh! I wonder if his granny would be offended if I started taking pics of that mullet... Wait, is there some law about taking pics of someone else's kid? No mullet is worth jail time- thats for sure. Only this one is really close to being worth it. Ok, improvise: 


Littlest is here wearing her Giraffe clip, she loves the Giraffe clip. I bet she would go for an impromptu photo shoot. What she doesn't know is that I am gonna make sure that mullet is in the picture too! I can't wait to show this one off!  Oh man, I am not nice. I am a horrid person. I can't help myself. 


So, ignore Littlest and check out Mullet Kid (who turns out to be a boy; I'm 73% sure anyways)

Front View.

Wait! Is he wearing a Hawaiian shirt too? Classic! 

Back View.

(btw- isn't that the cutest Giraffe EVER?)

(I designed it myself. Currently working on a hippo.)

See? What did I tell you? Best Mullet Ever. 

It even has the almost curly look!!!

In other news: I think I might die soon from tick poisoning. I've mentioned how my yard is over run with ticks, right? Well- typically not an issue. Pull it off and flush it. Never had to worry.


Until the last two weeks. I had one attach itself to my hip, super crazy place to get one- maybe it had rabies and was all confused about where it was and thats why I am the sickness now??? Or maybe it's cause of the poop water. Poop water can make anyone sick. Anywho, I finally went to the doctor who loaded me up with antibiotics and steroids. And because I love you, I am going to share my sickness with you. 

I tried really hard to cover the stretch marks, fat rolls, 

and other such "mommy marks" so I wouldn't scare you too bad.

Oh, and my undies cause Charley wouldn't like them posted all 

over the interweb. At least I assume he wouldn't like it...

I now officially feel like a pharmacy. Oldest gets two pills a day, I get 3 (with antibiotic now I get 6) and thats assuming I don't take Xanex or Ambien ;) and Littlest has the snuffies and gets dosed 3 to 4 times a day. Oh, and I can't leave out the dog- he gets seizure meds twice a day. From the time I wake up until I go to bed I am dispensing meds, or waiting to dispense meds, or worrying about when I need to dispense the next round. I now have dreams about meds. I feel like a school nurse who's only job is to hand out meds and the occasional Dora the Explorer Band-Aid. 


Send help. And lets hope I don't die or anything cause if I do Charley would prolly get mad at me. And my kids might miss me someday. 

Come See My Shame

One of my Favorite Bloggers is Amanda over at Martinis or Diaper Genies (MODG). She periodically gets her crap together and posts a Confession Friday, in which you leave a comment depicting your most humiliating/gross/unusual comment. She compiles the results and pics some winners.

Guess what? I won this week. So head on over and see what you've been missing!

If Your Kids Ever Mutiny, I Feel Your Pain

Having two punks home this week was not fun. Not fun at all. They played this super fun game called "Tag-Team" to see just how crazy they can make me. I did NOT enjoy this game. Littlest, who is used to having 8 hours of Momma time a day, decided she would make sure I couldn't spend time with Oldest. Should I choose to disobey her rules she dished out the punishment. Not being one to submit without a fight I ignored her tantrums, I am the MOM after all- and isn't that what Mom's are for? To ignore their kids? 


Anyways, I decided to snap some pictures of my favorite Littlest Moments (and how to fix 'em). Wait, I just realized that one is a video and I don't know how to post a video. Dang it.


*visualize* 
I was helping Oldest with some things in his room. Littlest got really quiet. Quite is BAD, especially from her. I decide to investigate as I could hear her on the stairs and she shouldn't be on the stairs. I walked out of Oldest's bedroom and right there on the wall was a giant letter H. This letter H was followed by more letter H's. They went side by side down one wall, around the corner, and up the wall by the stairs. 


I bought Mr. Clean Magic Erasers and made her little ornery butt scrub them all off the walls. And I only ripped out about 4 hairs out of 10 (like that rating system?) from the Letter H fiasco. 
*end visualization*


Now the one that really got to me happened this morning. Oldest and I have been working on a model helicopter for a few days. And what I really mean is I have been working on it while Oldest watched. Littlest had enough of me spending time with her brother and demonstrated it in a new and unique way. She spilled Barbie Pink nail polish all over my bathroom. See:

And this is only part of the disaster. It covered the floor too.

Here is where my compulsive need to hoard come in super handy. I had this old toothbrush that I was planning on using for Chubaca. It worked great in combination with nail polish remover to get all the paint off the counter. 

Think I can still use this on Chubaca?? .......

Is that a "No?" I figured.

The real magic here wasn't so much the bristled side of the tooth brush, but the tongue scraper side. You know the rubbery thing thats stuck to the back of the toothbrush.

See? This part here works fantastic for the pools of hardened paint!

Oh, and for the floors I dumped out remover and mopped it. Worked great!

You can see by the background that all Barbie Pink polish has been successfully removed. This one ended up with an 8 out of 10 ripped out hairs. Since there is no school tomorrow either I imagine that she will try yet again to hit that magic 10. At which point no amount of Xanex in the world can help me. 


And on a totally sad note: All the playing in poop water took its toll on Chubaca's feet. The pads on his back feet are all torn up and starting to get infected despite the  massive quantities of peroxide I have been using on him. The up-side? He can totally rock out the two sock look.

Littlest showed her rarely seen Sweet side when I was bandaging Chuey's feet. She pet his head and loved on him. Then as a reward for his good behavior she added accessories to his bandaged feets.

And every dog wants Dora band-aids. Trust me.

And I promise that towel used to be clean.

Well, before I cleaned out his paws it was.

Apparently peroxide doesn't agree with my towels.

Or maybe it works really great and got all the junk off his paws.

Either way- still looks gross in this picture.

Think I can win the "Longest Picture Caption" award?

I bet if I tried really hard I could.

But then you would prolly get bored and leave me forever.

And I can't have that cause I need you.

You keep me sane. 

Well, on most days.

The End.

Flooding = Swimming in Poop

When we moved to Clarksville I was all bummed out to see the actual size of the hill our house is on. Every time I have to mow the grass I kick and scream and curse the hill. Now that the entire city is flooding I feel bad. I mean really bad, so bad in fact that I baked the hill some cookies and called it Sweetheart. I think we are on the road to forgiveness; well, I hope so anyhills. 


The flood waters reached right up to my yard and then stopped! Not that they had much choice as the hill has started forgiving me and was all "You can't get these people, Mr. Flood Waters! She bakes me cookies and whispers sweet nothings to me. And she picks up the dog poop so I don't have to smell it." And the hill protected us. It was like magic!

So today to celebrate our survival we decided to let Chubaca play fetch in the water- one of his favorite activities.

 Now, anyone with little Punks knows that you can't have water + kids + splashing without letting the kids play in the water too. So I did what any Redneck type of Momma does and let the kids play. And the neighbor boy joined the party. And by "boy" I mean 19 year old who lives with his parents, doesn't work, and I think he has a crush on me. He just texted me a picture of a rose. I'm scared.


But not as scared as I was earlier when he decided to take his shirt off. I thought my eyeballs were gonna fry right out of my head. Its just not right that a guy has bigger boobs than me. Just sayin.

So after a few hours of playing even Chubaca got tired. The kids are pooped. Well, Littlest just got her second wind so I guess it didn't work out quite like planned. Speaking of poop! As I was attempting to herd the kids up the hill to have some lunch another neighbor came over. Turns out the sewage treatment plant is completely underwater resulting in raw sewage pumping into the river. Awesome. I let my kids swim in poop.


One more negative from the flooding is all the creepy crawlies that have come out to play. Snakes are NOT my favorite. Turtles are okay, it was especially funny to see one kick Chubaca's arse!!!

Moral of the Story: Don't let your kids play in poop water full of snakes unless your name is B-Dub and you are a Redneck. Oh, and don't let creepy 19 year olds have your phone number. Ever.