I may be crazy, but then again, I may just be crazy.

I really don't have anything in particular to write about today, but it's been a little while, and I know how much you've missed me, as my awesomeness has no limits.  So, I've decided to grace the blog with the pleasure of my presence today, for no reason other than my own entertainment.  I could go on a serious rant about all of the idiots that inhabit the mall on weekends, or the highways teeming with escaped mental patients, but I shan't.  I shall instead conduct myself with dignity... Oh who am I kidding?  I just don't DO dignity.


So, I didn't bring you here to tell you that.  And, yes, I'm fully aware that I really haven't made any point so far, but hey, this is me.  I've never claimed to be normal with you folks.  I'm sort of bored, so it's either this, or I call each and every one of you dedicated, hypothetical readers, and make you entertain me.  And, since you're not fulfilling your role in our little entertainment bargain, I guess I shall have to do all of the work.


We've been working diligently on landscaping/pool plans for our backyard as of late, and if I have to look at one more design plan, I may have my dinner re-surface.  Needless to say, I'm at the point of just picking the next thing I'm offered.  If that's the case, I may end up with a Playboy Mansion-esque pool complete with grotto and petting zoo, or quite possibly, a roller coaster.  I haven't really ruled out either of those yet, but I'm pretty sure they'd be budget-busters.  Darn the luck.  I really kinda wanted that pair of peacocks.  And, I guess there'll be no upside-downies, cavern-cruising coasters either. Ah, such is life.  Maybe I should just let Hubby make the choices... Oh, scratch that.  I do want something OTHER than a 1200 square foot workshop and rock in my yard.


So, I guess I'd better drink myself a bottle of Pepto so I can stomach getting back to the painful process of replacing my weed-infested, dirty, dusty, oh-so-brown backyard.  Somebody please just put a .45 through my occipital lobe so I don't have to look at it anymore.


I guess I broke my promise about no rants today.  Whoopsie!

Mama never said there'd be days like this.

I was a good kid. The "Mother's Curse" never even worried me as I got older and began having children.  But, then again, maybe I was wrong thinking I was so right.  Ok, I'll admit it.  I was not the perfect child.  I remember telling on my sister (I was 4 or 5, she was 6 or 7) for sneaking down to the nearby, partially frozen Mississippi River boat launch a block from my house.  (it was basically a very steep, scary hill that dropped off into the mostly frozen water)  Yes, I was there too.  Yes, it WAS my idea.  But she was older, and should have foreseen the punishment awaiting us if I opened my big fat mouth and told on her.  So, ultimately, it really wasn't my fault.  She knew I was a tattle-tale, and should have also known that I would still tell on her, even though it would get me into trouble doing so.  Okay, so maybe I was a sado-masochistic child.  But, on the whole, I wasn't so bad.


So, why do I feel the need to complain about my own children via blog entry?  Oh, just 'cause I hypothetically can.  As a hypothetical reader, you can close out of my blog and not listen to my whining, and I can continue ranting on to nobody in particular about how my children are big bloated hemorrhoids on my derriere. (Which is hypothetically small, by the way... My derriere, I mean)  I really don't remember fighting quite this hard or quite so much with my sister when we were younger.  I would ask my mother, but she tends to exaggerate how awful we were.  I just don't believe her.  Now, I will not deny that my sister and I fought; just that we were sooo much quieter when we did so.  We knew the repercussions if Mom, or God forbid, Dad, heard us.  It scared us into quietly beating each other into a pulp until one side gave in. (Usually her. Didn't I already tell you I was a tattle-tale?)


My children prefer a more boisterous form of fighting.  It probably includes a similar amount of violence as the likes of my sister's and my fights, but Good Lord; it sounds like someone has lost a limb most times.  But, I have found the most perfect solution to this very problem.  My super-smart-mommy remedy for this?  I'm glad you asked.  The iPod.  It's an amazing little thing, especially when you turn up the volume loud enough to drown out the Armageddon going on in the next room. For a mere two hundred-ish dollars, you too can enjoy your life, fight free.


So, just to summarize... Oh, crap... they're starting up again.  Time to pop in the ear-buds and crank up the tunes.

And, we meet again...

After a three month hiatus, and I use the word 'hiatus' extremely loosely here, I am back.  Back as in, well, for  right now I'm back.  Who knows how long this may last this time.  Have I mentioned I have ADD?  So, I'm now fully medicated, hubby's home, and kids are on spring break.  I'm not stressed at all.  (hint of sarcasm there, for those who didn't detect that).


The last three months have been filled to the gills with home improvement, furniture shopping, yard-work, cleaning, hair pulling, screaming, and tantrums.  The last three were just me, in case you were wondering.  A semblance of order has finally filled my house.  It unfortunately has not yet filled my backyard, as there is only dirt and a large number of weeds filling that area.  I will be overflowing with joy when THAT project is done, but given our current rate of progress, that will be sometime in the early fall of 2037.


I do have many a good tale to tell of our recent past, but all in good time, my hypothetical readers.  I have been diligently working on perfecting my ability to procrastinate, so it may be awhile before I actually get my tall-tales in order.  At the moment, I'm working on NOT cleaning. I'm really getting good at this procrastination thing.

I'm singing Christmas carols, I swear

I would first like to start this off saying, it is by NO means Christmas-time in Arizona... It was 80 degrees today. I have a very serious problem with this. We are in the northern hemisphere, something is tragically wrong with the universe.


That aside, I have been doing my darndest to make this a 'real Christmas' for the family, as my husband will be home for good, and it will be the first REAL family Christmas in four years. I am making EVERY possible treat known to man. Plus, I have the whole holiday menu planned for Christmas dinner. It may end up killing me, but I'm doing it nonetheless.


Yesterday, I made winter-time muffins, a family favorite; and also made some pretzel/turtle treats. Today, I made sugar cookie dough for an army, and then proceeded to make holiday chocolates... And, this is where the fun turns into pain.


I have three, yes, only three chocolate molds... This can be a problem when you have ten pounds of melted chocolate to make. Six hours later, all the chocolates are made, my back it shaped like a horseshoe, I'm covered in blisters, and I have chocolate imbedded in all of my fingers.


I'm not a huge fan of sweets, but I do believe it will be another five years before I ever put another chocolate to my lips. Did I mention that tomorrow I'm making cookies? Should be loads of fun!


*please kill me now*

Bring the pain.

Well, it's that season again... That one where I rue ever leaving my house, or having children IN my house...

That first little tickle in the throat... usually overlooked the rest of the year, is now cause for anxiety in my household. The little boogers brought home some germs.  I am not, I repeat, NOT a germaphobe.  But I swear that the next person to sniffle in my general direction is going to get Lysol sprayed in their face. I downright refuse to get the winter cold this year. I don't have any apprehension about wrapping myself in cellophane and wearing a gas mask the whole season. I will NOT get sick. I will have my husband home, and my family in full array for Christmas for the first time in years, and if hyperbaric chambers or oxygen bubbles are required, we will get through it!

Having three children and a husband who has been through the ringer and back, I am fully prepared for winter ills, but NOT for Christmas. The day after, they can be sick to their hearts content, but NOBODY is gonna mess this up for me. It's been too long since we had a proper family Christmas.  I am prepared to maim or kill the next germ-infested body that comes within 50 feet of anyone in my family. So, if you have the sniffles, or even worse, a cold, I would suggest you don't drop by or even call me; for fear you may send your germs through the phone lines. I am on full RED ALERT. DEFCON 1 here people.

If I only had a brain....

I think I may have misplaced my grey matter.  If anyone finds it please return it to me as soon as possible. There will be a reward of two gourmet meals if returned in good condition.  If returned in poor condition, you get hot dogs. 

I started my day much earlier than usual, as I was helping an unnamed 'friend' at his/her place of business.  Now, most of you know, I do not have a 9 to 5 job per say, I'm a full-time mom with all the benefits; you know, cooking, cleaning, listening to whining, and boo-boo fixing.  I used to have the whole 9 to 5 thing down pat.  And, dealing with most things military, I put up with a LOT of red tape and politics.  Needless to say, my military training did me absolutely NO GOOD today. 

Having many years experience in the business my friend is in, I have certain expectations.  I was not met with those expectations.  I was met with chaos.  Not just your standard day to day chaos, this was LA Riot-type chaos.  Other than the complete lack of organization (which normally is my forte), the lack of timeliness made my frustration level amp up even more.  Add in a little vehicular breaking and entering, and you've got my day.  And, my overly sympathetic behind signed up for more days of this. 

So, as I said, if someone finds my brains, I really need them back.  Of course, if it takes too long, you may have to look for me at the local mental institution.  Just ask for the girl with the glossy look, missing hair, and knot on the head (been banging it against the wall recently).

Technology has officially made me stupid...

I am a bookworm.  To most avid readers, I am what one might call obsessive when reading.  Very little can rouse me from the story I'm drawn into. 

I purchased a Kindle (electronic book) a little over two years ago, and have definitely gotten my money's worth.  Unfortunately, this has also caused some loss of normal motor functions. 

As I picked up a regular old hardback book this morning, I immersed myself into a world of wonder.  That lasted for exactly one page before my thumb tried to hit the "next page" button on the paper.  At first, I laughed at myself.  But then it happened again three more times!!!  As if that's not bad enough, after a couple of chapters, I closed my book to get some lunch.  Whoops.  No bookmark, no automatically going to the last page I had read.  I had to actually SEARCH for my page.  I'd like to write it off as coming down from an excessive amount of Halloween candy last night, but unfortunately, I didn't actually eat any candy. 

So, I've come to the conclusion, that as much as technology teaches us, it also kills off certain brain cells required to do things the old-fashioned way.  Is there an app to get that back?