Relatively Speaking

We've got house guests.

My brother & his daughter are going to be staying with us indefinitely. Um. Indefinitely. That sounds serious. It's not that serious. I don't think. The economy sux. Times are hard. We're both currently single & our kids are related. So, after discussing it for months he finally gave up his rathole apartment (I never saw a rat...but it wasn't pretty.)
The kids are having a great time, and I love having my niece here. Don't tell anybody, but she's kinda my favorite. Shhhhh...
Lilly-Pie is 10 weeks older than Beena-Baby, and they're supposed to be BFF's. Cause we want it that way. They've voted the other direction though, and basically told us to cram it where the sun don't shine. So, it's been 5 days of fighting, toy stealing, tears, outright tantrums, & other loveliness that I'm sure you're so jealous of you can't sit still right now. Right? Right? Hello? Where did you go???
On top of the little bullies...Lilly-Pie has strep throat. She isn't one of those sweet lil babe's that take medicine and make a scrunched up face and you kiss her cheek and give her a sucker for being such a good girl! Hell. No.
Think the Exorcist. Only in a two year old child's body, and instead of green spit substitute bright a$ pink $40 prescription medicine. Kid contorts her body into such shapes you imagine she's breaking herself. Scary.
They are into, on top of, & destroying everything in sight and between me and you...I'm loving every minute of it.
I really am a Mom. Through and through. While I enjoy 'naptime'....I always spend the last half hour or so wondering how long it's going to take the kiddo to get up and keep me company. If the house is too quiet, I feel alone. Don't know what the heck I'm gonna do when these Turkey's decide to grow up and get lives of their own. Probably bribe them to live with me. With cookies.

P.S. ~ Sorry for the old picture...he didn't bring my camera. Jacka$$

Here's Your Sign

I am not the smartest person in the world. Although, I like to think of myself as savvy and resourceful the reality is that I live in a truly chaotic world created solely by moi.
Yesterday, I realized that the grass on the side of the house had turned into a veritable field of weeds. These are the moments when I curse being single. I'm not going to go into detail. Mostly because I would like to keep you in the mindset that I've got a few working brain cells and use them as necessary. But, also because my hand still hurts like the dickens and I don't feel like typing very much.
I burned the pinkie and middle fingers of my right hand on the muffler of the lawnmower. There. I said it. Laugh. C'mon. You can, I won't be upset. Well, too upset anyway.
I've got two spots that are second degree burns and the rest are light first degree that really just itch like crazy. The 'spots'. Oh. My. Gosh.
I won't keep this up, because I'm no crybaby...but I am going to soak my hand in icy saltwater.

Performance Junkie

So, I had a post planned out for today and instead ended up in the hospital with 2nd degree burns on my right hand. I'd explain, but too many people have already laughed at me. Plus, typing us a pain in the rear.
I've been you-tubing to pass the time, and found this old Pepsi commercial that fully feeds the performance junkie in me. Enjoy, and check back later...I'll detail my idiocy for you so you can laugh at me too!

My First Bloggy Award!

One of my favorite daily reads awarded me my first Bloggy Award. Thanks SO much! It's neat to know there's one or two people out there who stop by now and again to pick through my brain matter. :-)
Of course, like all good things, this one comes with conditions. Which I am happy to oblige with...so here's your meme, and Thanks again!

(One words answers only)

1. Where is your cell phone? kitchen
2. Where is your significant other? HA
3. Your hair color? natural
4. Your mother? rocks
5. Your father? fish
6. Your favorite thing? babies
7. Your dream last night? forgotten
8. Your dream/goal? independence
9. The room you're in? bedroom
10. Your hobby? cooking
11. Your fear? tragedy
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? relaxed
13. Where were you last night? home
14. What you're not? patient
15. One of your wish-list items? book
16. Where you grew up? Texas
17. The last thing you did? forced
18. What are you wearing? pajamas
19. Your TV? loud
20. Your pet? chill
21. Your computer? works
22. Your mood? tired
23. Missing someone? always
24. Your car? crap
25. Something you're not wearing? ring
26. Favorite store? Target
27. Your summer? stressful
28. Love someone? Lots
29. Your favorite color? green
30. When is the last time you laughed? minutes
31. Last time you cried? days

The other rule is you're supposed to pass this on to seven people...and frankly, I don't know seven people who have any idea that I exist. I'm kind of a nomad that way. So, look to your right. See my coffee break list? If you're on there...you deserve this award. Cause I stalk you daily. So, grab your bling, do the meme and get back at me(me). mmkay?

Alec the Highlander

This video was made by a friend of ours quite some time ago.
It depicts Turkey #2 as "Alec the Highlander" and Turkey #1 as "the Villain"........you can also hear Turkey #3 wailing in the background at one point. I believe she was only about 5 months old or so at the time, so she was most likely wailing for boobage. TMI? Sorry. My bad.
It's a great video and one that makes me laugh because it's so indicative of their true personalities. Watch, and see!

Also, please excuse the spelling of "coming" at the end, and understand that it was truly a typo on behalf of the guy who created the video. He's a bad A$$ soldier, and I'd trust him to protect my children in the line of fire....In a spelling bee ~ not so much.

Enjoy!


Alec the Highlander

Lollipop ~ U must mistake me for a Suckuh

It's no secret that I'm a Britney Spears fan. Her music and performances inspire me, and now...so does her story. Mental illness isn't a joke. I can't imagine being at a "low" and dealing with the amount of probing she did. It's a wonder that this album ever came to fruition...A year ago, the paparazzi were writing her obituary, today the first single from Britney's new album (aptly titled "Circus") was debuted. This isn't my favorite song ever. "Blackout" (also very aptly named) boasted no less than 6 songs that I can still listen to over & over again without getting bored, and I hope that "Womanizer" is just a tease for better things to come when the album drops in December.
The sound is new & edgy, and the lyrics are great...I'm just dissatisfied with the 'persona' Brit took on for the song. There is something lacking in the vocals, and I don't feel that this is the best she has to offer.
That being said, I'm still rockin' the CD as soon as it comes out.

A decade of friendship & Tums

This is Erin. Isn't she a cutie-patootie?





This is her son, Tyler. He's too much for words! Just smile, cause that's how he makes you feel.




Tyler & Beena Baby (aka Demon child, aka Turkey #3) are getting married. NO. Not now. We're going to let them wait until they're old enough to at least understand that their Mothers are forcing an arranged marriage on them simply to satisfy our need to actually be related after all these years.

Erin & Tyler were visiting from beautiful Rifle, Colorado. She and I have known each other since long before Tyler or Corrina were even considered. Long before either of us were ever married, long before 9/11, the War on Terrorism, Long before Britney was a SuperStar!!!

She's been my rock when I thought I had nothing left, and her soothing words have gotten me through many a moment that I simply couldn't see past, and I love her like a sister. At times, I feel really alone on my journey here...and she's one of the people I turn to when the solitude starts eating at my sanity. She get's me through it by reminding me how great my kids are, how much she loves each one of us, and how proud she is of me for standing up for what I believe in and taking this huge risk. When other people look at me like I'm crazy for leaving my gorgeous husband with a good job, secure benefits, and such a happy-go-lucky outlook on life...Erin reminds me that the happy-go-lucky included days where the children and I ate nothing but MRE's because he'd spent another paycheck at a ski resort and partied his woes away.
She doesn't let me feel sorry for myself, but reminds me that I made the right decision for us.

Without people like Erin, and my Jen-nay...and my Mommy, I'd have given up. I would have crawled under my bed with a bottle of Jagermeister and allowed my husband to run us so far into a financial hole that we'd never see the light again. Erin is my "responsible angel"
When I told her that my utility bill was $420 she immediately started crunching numbers and looking online to find out why. And how we could get it down. Not me. WE. (I keep my thermostat down...My bill is actually one of the lowest that I've heard of around here. It's scary)
Letters to governors, calling the power company....that girl was on it. And, she was on vacation.
See, I was just going to pay the sucker and call it even. Not Erin. No way. Hu-uh!

We also spent hours in the kitchen cooking, taste testing, throwing calories out the window willy nilly! It was wonderful and great and fattening and perfection. I think we used 2 entire bags of sugar and over 3/4's of a large bag of flower. 2 dozen eggs, and we cleaned out the fruits & veggies at the Farmers Market. Then we ate it. All of it. Then we ate some Zantac. Then we slept in the same bed and told ghost stories by candlelight and giggled until the sun came up.
If you haven't had a sleepover with a best friend in a while, I highly recommend it! There's no better therapy!




I love you Erin! You are the bomb dot com. And, I am not Lame dot net.

Chore Store

I've implemented a new program 'round here in order to facilitate a cleaner, happier home.
Using an idea I stole from Pioneer Woman, (and revamped to work for us) we now have our very own, "Mommy Store."

I've bought a few UBFunkey's (Cause they're super cheap), some pretty sketch pads, and some random 'kid junk' that I picked up at the local Family Dollar. There are also coupons that they can purchase to get out of doing chores. Those cost some serious Mom Bucks...but they're in there. Also some really Mom friendly ones, like; Take everyone out for ice cream~Mom's treat; and, 2 Hours free video/movie Time with snack. (Silly Turkey's don't even realize that means I get 2 hours quiet time with snack!)

I'm using a white board (that's actually blue...go figure) to write out each chore that I want to see completed. Beside each one is a point system. cleaning their bedrooms, for example, is 1 point. At the end of the week, we'll calculate the points each Turkey has accumulated. (We have a pink board for that!) For every 5 points, they'll receive 1 "Mom Buck" (I found an old old old box of checks that I've been marking the pertinent info off of, and issuing "Paychecks"...luckily, the Bank of Mom will never go out of business!)

This morning, in the midst of lost hairbrushes, misplaced lunchboxes, and general chaos that ensues each day beginning at 6am, Moonshine came up to me and announced that not only had he dressed himself, brushed his teeth, readied his backpack (lost lunchbox & all) but he'd also made his bed, picked up his books from last night, and put his water bottle back in the fridge after he'd written his initials on the lid. He also wanted to know, "If I have enough money in Mom bucks, do I have to wait until store day to play with my new Funkey?"....aw. Dangit. I'm such a pushover. YES YOU HAVE TO WAIT! It's Mine. All Mine! Muahahahahaha! (At least until next Sunday, when I pull out the box and bad checks start flying through the air!)

I can't wait to see how this turns out. Before, we were using a demerit system. They'd lose points for forgetting. I hate being the bad Mom. Hate feeling like I'm always the one making them do chores, homework, hygiene. I want to be the good guy for once. I think this is a huge step towards that. Instead of giving Lyss a demerit for not making her bed, I simply ignored it and handed Moonshine the marker to give himself points while she looked on and calculated how many Mom bucks he'd just made.

And, after seeing this...she hauled butt to her bedroom and made her bed, picked up hers & the Baby's toys, and cleared the dining table of breakfast dishes. So. I need to win that doll. Otherwise, I'm in real trouble here. Can a Mom store give out IOU's??

Waltzing LaVonne

My Mother finally posted the video of her friends & family singing the song they'd written in celebration of her 50th birthday. Now, I'm passing it on to you for your viewing pleasure....Or pain. Ummm.. Well, Enjoy!

waltzing LaVonne


"Waltzing LaVonne"

Waltzing LaVonne
Waltzing LaVonne
Who'll go with this 'ole gal LaVonne
As she picks up rocks & put's 'em in a box
Who'll go waltzing with LaVonne
Waltzing LaVonne
Waltzing LaVonne
Who'll watch the sled dogs with LaVonne
As we stand on a block of ice, cheering the puppies on
Will Rich waltz with LaVonne?
Waltzing LaVonne
Waltzing LaVonne
Ain't it nifty, she's turnin' Fifty
You'l hear the woe's about her big toes
Who'll be limping to LaVonne

Now, a little background since you've seen the video in all it's glory.
My Mom loves/adores/worships the Iditarod. Her 50th birthday gift to herself (and a special cousin & sister) was a trip to Alaska to see the beginning of the race. This was after a cruise she went on several years ago, where she fell in love with the dogs to begin with. Someday, my Mommy's going to move to Alaska and abandon her family. But, she can't get rid of me as easily as she thinks! I'll be hot on her trail!
She also loves rocks. I believe I've mentioned that. And the toe thing? Not sure. And Rich? No damn clue who that could be!!! My family's a bit on the weird side. The ballgowns were because they were having a "Birthday Ball" and someone brought a bag of (bouncy) balls as gift. Most everyone else gave her rocks. Save for one Aunt who gave her football themed grilling accoutrement's. Excuse me for a moment, my head is spinning.
OK, I'm sorry. And, I'm sorry that I've subjected you to the oddity's that make up my family. Please forgive me. And family? If you're reading this? Well, you should stop now before you cast me unto the hellfire and disown me as your loved one.

Asserting my Independence

Ahhhhh...Naptime! The small niche in my day where I can fold laundry, or empty the dishwasher in peace. I love naptime. I might (once or twice a year) use naptime as a time to catch up on housework that I can't do when the Demon child is awake. (Like all of them) Or, I could spend an hour or so outside weeding my pretend flower beds & mangled vegetable garden.
But, on an average day I use this time as mine.
If I want to try on every outfit in my closet in the hopes that I might someday meet another adult outside my house, for dinner~I will.
If I want to chat on the phone aimlessly for an hour about nothing in particular~I will.
Or, if I want to soak in the bathtub, blessedly uninterrupted, until my toes shrivel up and fall off~I most certainly will.
Cause I can. Cause it's my time. And, cause I'm the Alpha Dog around here!
Uh-oh. Sounds like someone disagrees. Gotta go.


P.S. Go check this out at Jenny's Happy Life and win something for the Turkey's in your life!

Solo Parenting & The Other Dad

This weekend is one of the weekends that the two oldest Turkey's spend with their Dad. One of the upsides of moving back to DF-Dub (vs. fighting it out with the X in Colorado for however long) was that they would be closer to him. Who, regardless of his inability to grow up & become an adult, is a fantastic Dad. Loves those kids with his entire being. He's a good guy. We were simply way too young (16 when we met & 19 when we had the first Turkey.) and way too different to be together. Fortunately, we were never married. Fortunately, we both agree that our kids rock. Fortunately, I have difficulties coming up with other words when my mind is stuck on fortunately.

If he and I were able to simply parent our children without his parent's guidance, we would probably have very little in the way of difficulties. But, his Mother. Oh. Lord. Help. Me.
This woman is the bane of my existence. She's the Tom to my Jerry. The Hillary to my Sarah. The, the, the.....DEVIL.

I recently bought my oldest Turkey (9) a pay as you go cell phone from AT&T. Calls to her Dad, his parents & girlfriend, me and my parents were all free. Any other calls she made were $.10 per minute. (With a fee of a dollar per day). The stipulation was that she has to pay to put minutes on it. As expected, because she's 9, once the first $15 that I put on there was gone, she didn't have the patience to save her money to get more minutes.
Cut to last week. I'm on the phone with her Dad's girlfriend. (Why? Someone please tell me why the hell I have to deal with her?) She tells me that "Nana" has bought the oldest Turkey a cell phone. Put it on her plan like everybody else in their family.
Whoa. Wha? Excuse Me? Your Kidding Me. Right?

I'd really like to give that woman a piece of my mind. The problem is this. She's got money. There is a reason that she can afford to support her 28 year old son, and his girlfriend in high style. And she can use that money just as easily to hire an attorney to take me back to court.
I don't have the funds available. Partly because, when we first went to court I stupidly asked for nothing but my children. I didn't request child support. I wanted my kids.

So, I keep my mouth shut. When they ask if they can pick the kids up 3 hours early and drop them off 2 hours late, I say, "of course." When they claim that they have a 4th of July "Tradition" even though the papers clearly state to alternate holidays, I suck it up and take the baby to my parents without the rest of my crew, then make apologies to the cousins they haven't seen in a year.
When my daughter is taught that rules are made to be broken. When my son is taught that he has a right to play video games and that I'm mean for sending him outdoors to play. When they're both told that I should feed them foods that they enjoy instead of "being selfish in the kitchen"...
I keep quiet. I smile when he brings his girlfriend to pick up my children and they take off running to jump into her arms. I laugh when my son mistakenly calls her Mom, then looks at me with a guilty expression on his face. And, I let the tears pour down my face when their car pulls out of the driveway.

When his Mother decides that she's ready for my kids to live in her house again (did I forget to mention that he still lives with his parents?), she'll pay for her son to take me back to court. She'll buy him the best attorney money can buy.
And all I'll be able to fight back with is the consistency of my parenting. Two children who are doing fantastic in school, who are well fed, groomed, and certainly loved. And, my willingness to adapt myself so that they can continue to have a healthy and vibrant relationship with their Father.

I have all of this on the brain today, because I promised Lyss that I would invite her Dad and the GF over for dinner, and am feverishly trying to figure out what to prepare to make myself look like the culinary genius that I pretend to be. I'm going to have to also figure out a way to make myself not look to be a bitter, angry, demented bitch woman because of all this drama swirling about in the shadows.

Will you help me? I have less than 2 weeks to prepare.

Starlight, Starbright....

First Star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, make a wish upon you tonight.

The night my littlest baby was born was bittersweet. I was finally holding the little Turkey who'd been kicking me for months, and forced me to bed rest weeks before she made her squalling appearance. Of course I was happy, thrilled, and madly in love. But, I was also tired and achy, grouchy & sad. My family had all visited and left at my request...I wanted to be alone with my newest Angel.That day, I'd spent hours before, during, and after the labor & delivery with a cell phone plastered to my ear, talking to my husband in Baquabah, Iraq. His Commander's had given him the day off and he'd spent his day in a tiny cubby hole not nearly big enough for his 6'4" frame.
My Mom kept the video camera running right up until the last moment (due to some strange new rules regarding video taping in the birthing room) and Sergio stayed on the phone the entire time.
I still don't know why, but I was afraid for him to hear me make a sound. I didn't want him to think I was in pain. Though~ duh. He told me later that it made him unsure of what was going on. All he heard were the Dr and nurses telling me I was doing great and "PUSH". After she was born and being weighed the Dr. chimed in to Sergio, "I'm Proud of you Daddy! You didn't even Faint!" with her light southern accent, and sweet little voice.
After that things went blurry. There were people in and out of my room, Flowers everywhere. Sergio had sent 2 huge bouquets himself, and my mother (always aware of peoples feelings) cheated and had a bouquet sent "from Daddy" (just in case he wasn't able to get a florist) along with the flowers & fruit from her and my Father. All up and down the halls were doors with baby wreaths on them. Beautiful creations of ribbon, and plastic booties & pacifiers. My door boasted an Army poster of a Blackhawk & the saying, "An Army of One."
It wasn't what I would have ever wished for. And, oh, how I feel for women who are going through the same thing. But, it was beautiful. I bonded with my baby even more because I wanted to savor each and every tiny moment of her life. I knew that my phone would ring (usually around 4 am, and right after I'd just nursed her back to sleep) and I would get to relate each burp, funny face, and goofy noise to someone who was just as obsessed with the news as I was. I appreciated holding her close to me, and the smell of her hair even more because I wanted to be able to describe it to him in perfect detail.
My baby is 2 now. Into everything. And dangerous. Scary dangerous. But, I'll never forget the deep, raw love I had for her in those first few months. Where just looking at her could send my heart pitter-pattering and I would be overcome with a fervent desire to hold her little body close to mine and breathe in deep, the scent of my child. Where being away from her for even an hour was an intrusion of epic proportions, and I refused at any cost.
There's nothing like the first few weeks of falling in love with your newborn child. Getting to know them in a way that you'll be able to build on for the rest of your lives. Pretty soon, the love you feel stops making you tear up with a flood of emotion and grows into the confidant, relaxed, easy love of a Mother & Child.
I hope, when my children are old enough to have their own children that I'll remember to pass along the best piece of advice I was given, "Savor Every Moment."




Thanks for giving me the idea for this post, and if you enjoy creative writing, be sure and check this out before the contest ends! What a fun way to celebrate becoming a new Mom (again!) I had a lot of fun digging deep into the memory banks and remembering the feelings from those first few weeks. Made me go smother my baby Turkey with Sloppy Kisses!
Congratulations to those expecting!!

From there....To here

That Turkey Cracks Me Up.

There are some days where I feel as though I've been fighting this battle forever. Reality check; it's only been 10 months. 10 months of depression, and anxiety, severe weight loss, pills, doctors, diets, pills, pills, pills..then something snapped and I decided I couldn't take any more pills. Couldn't take the doctors or diets either. Couldn't deal with the X's selfish and destructive behavior any longer. Wasn't going to be a single parent who just happened to also be married. There were too many fights that began with where I needed to cut costs while he stared blankly at the wall with a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. And ended with him storming off to spend days on end at "buddies" houses because he couldn't drink & drive on post. Seriously.

On May 1st, I was told that 5 gallons of milk (per week) was too much for a family of 5. Never mind that one of the 5 was an 18 month old baby. Or that my diet included 3 servings of Carnation Instant Breakfast per day. Made with milk. Or that 50% of the dishes we prepared included generous helpings of....yougotit! Milk. No. That was too much. I (very quietly & calmly) told him that he'd just hit the brick wall. We were over as soon as I figured out a way to get my family out of Colorado (where we moved because he was stationed @ Ft. Carson) and back to my "home" state of Texas. On May 29th, I packed the car with nothing but the kids, dog, cat, and a promise from the X that he would have our 'stuff' sent to me through the military's moving company. (A failed promise, I might add)

Since then I was able to find us a home in a quiet little town outside of Ft. Worth. Close enough to the crazaziness that is DF-Dub that I don't feel too isolated, but far enough away that I don't have drug dealers living next door to me posing as Insurance Salesmen. Or something.
Yesterday, another huge hurdle was jumped when I received wheels to chauffeur my Turkeys around in. I have a fully stocked kitchen, my bills are paid (well, sorta...I say paid, I mean; they have been dealt with in an adult like and appropriate manner...they'll be paid soon) kids are clothed, bathed, groomed, loved & reminded on a daily basis that I'm the Alpha Dog in this Disney Movie!

Basically, it's all coming along. There are days where I feel like it's helpless. I can't do this because I'm not strong, smart, resourceful, driven, enough. But then days like today happen, and while it's far from idyllic, this is my Tranquility. And, I thank God for getting me through the dark days. When I'm alone, and I feel like everyone has forgotten that we're still here. We're struggling and I need you. He's there.

That makes all the difference in the World.

Craziness

So so strange...just had to do a quick post. About an hour after I wrote regarding my car being repossessed...I got a phone call that a friend of mine had come through on his offer to give me his Mother's car when he bought her a new one, and my boss was on his way back from Oklahoma with the car on a flat bed trailer.
The offer was made as a bonus for work the company did on a house, but I didn't actually think it would ever come to fruition. (Only because I'm a pessimistic Dolly-downer)
Hallelujah!
Couldn't have happened at a better time. For so many reasons.

School is sucking me dry...

At this fabulous time in my life, I am without a vehicle. My husband and I had bought a super perdy Mitsubishi Galant Ralliart about a year ago. Then, sold my mini-van and bought him a motorcycle.
When I told him I was leaving, he agreed to pay the car note & insurance in lieu of child support. (Cause the last thing he wants to do is spend his hard earned money directly on his child)
Before I had a chance to even move out of our home, I found out that he hadn't been paying the car note. Of course he wanted me to take it. He knew I wouldn't be pimpin' it too long.
He never did pay the note, and my beautiful car was repossessed a few weeks ago. I'm working my way up to paying cash for a semi-beater because the last thing I need in my life right now is another bill. In the meantime, I'm relying on a dear friend to take me wherever I need to go. Problem is, it's a 30 minute drive to get to me. It truly sucks, because I am not a planner. I've never been a list person...even though I. Try. So. Hard. In order to be (*ahem*) afoot, you must be able to plan. Otherwise, you go to the store and you forget staples like sugar and tortillas.
Who forgets sugar? And, we use tortillas daily around here. (Great for rolled up PB&J's for the baby Turkey)
So yesterday, as I was pondering the fact that there are 2 recipes in the universe that don't call for sugar, and both of them call for tortillas...my Angel Faced 2nd Turkey hands me a note in RED writing that says "Bring snacks for 21 kids." That's all. No, please. No Thank you. I don't know about you, but RED writing from a teacher always scares the crap out of me. I found myself huddled in the bathtub with a woobie wrapped around me and my thumb in my mouth while rocking back and forth and crying, "Mommy?" "Mommy?"
Then I remembered that I am Mommy. Shit.
What I would like to know is, when the hell did school get so friggin' expensive? Why am I bringing snacks once a month for the entire class? Is there a party every day? Why are school pictures taken twice a year now? (And, why are the Spring pictures so much nicer than the Fall pictures?) Why are there Book fairs every damn month? Why did I buy $80 worth of school supplies for the boy only to be told that I need to send another $40 for more supplies?
There are forms every week for t-shirts, bags, fundraisers, money, money, money!
And, if you don't send the money that the school wants, you doom your child to be the only kid in the WHOLE SCHOOl that doesn't have his/her whole body plastered with the school name. (Which in our case is just not a real appealing one.)
I actually used to love doing the kids school parties. Making pretty platters of fruit & cheese...Now, you get no choice. The day before the party you get a note demanding to see 87 pizzas from the Italian eatery 2 states away on the teachers desk before noon the next day. And, it's written in red ink.

(That's my Daddy up there...and dang. I miss that car!)

Positive Thoughts......

I totally wanted to post a blog today, but I have nothing positive to write about. I don't really mind writing about the ups & downs, the crappy with the good, right? But if I feel like I'm just being a whiny, snivelling, cry-baby. Well. I've got some pride left. (And, besides...what is my Mommy supposed to be for?)
So, instead of alienating anyone that's had the misfortune of landing on my page today, I decided to post a simple, sweet survey. OK. Maybe not so much sweet. I am a bit bitter these days. Sorry.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Have you ever showered naked with someone?
Yes I have. Several times. You should try it.

Where was the first kiss you had with the last person you kissed?
In the hospital room where she was born.

Who is your last text from & what does it say?
Not a clue

Latest you stayed up in the past week?
About midnight. That's when I finally feel like I've had a moment to breathe and can sleep.

Are you listening to music right now?
Always

Are you currently craving any piercings or tattoos?
I'd like to get a small clover somewhere to go with the small butterfly I have somewhere else. :-)

How long can you go without your phone?
we shall soon see....

Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?
My Jen-nay

Who last called you babe/baby?
My Dad-day

Does your phone ring in the middle of the night often?
Not very often, no. When it does it better be important. And, it usually is. Barring late night wanna-be hook-up phone-sex BS from the X.

Do you know anyone who is married that shouldn't be?
Right here folks.

Do you curse in front of your parent(s)?
ya. I've got a horrible potty mouth

What is your current annoyance?
do not get me started.

Last time you saw fireworks, with who & where?
Driving home from my parents 4th of July party with my brother in my car. Enough info?

Are you afraid of roller coasters?
Yes. They don't make them safe enough for people of my itty-bitty ness.

Who pissed you off yesterday?
do not get me started.

What are you supposed to be doing right now?
This is MY time. I'm supposed to do WTF I want.

Are you slowly drifting away from someone?
perhaps

When was the last time you felt unbearably guilty?
Weekly, Daily, Hourly......I'm a Mother. It comes with the territory.

Are you bored?
no. I'm vegging. I want to blog, but I have nothing hopeful or helpful to write about so I'm keeping my trap shut. Or not, since I'm doing this survey...but whatev's. (My oldest Turkey said that today to her brother. LMAO!)

The last person you talked to on MSN?
Just got MSN the other day to talk to Er-nin, my sister from another Mr.

Have you ever kissed anyone who's name started with an a?
Yep.

What do you currently hear right now?
JuJu snoring, and Beyonce singing "Naughty Girl" (itunes on shuffle, mkay?)

How old do you think you will be when you kick the bucket?
9 Million Years Old.

Would you rather watch football or baseball?
I'd rather be footballed in the face with a baseball.

Where is your number best friend?
Sierra Vista, AZ

Three things you did today?
made my bed
danced with Mickey Mouse through my House of Mouse
forced the Turkeys to take their Gatorade's and butts outside so I could sit in the garage and smoke a ciggy in peace.

Did anyone see you kiss the last person you kissed?
Maybe. All 3 Turkeys were in the room when the smallest one cornered me and smothered me with her sloppy kisses.

Have you ever kissed in the rain?
Yes. It's not as romantic as it looks

Have you ever fallen asleep in someones arms?
Maybe. But I can't sleep touching someone, so maybe not.

What are you doing tonight?
not a heck of a lot if this is any indication

Do you know someone whos pregnant?
My Jen-nay. And, she better STAY pregnant for at least 5 more weeks dadgummit!

Do you still talk to the person you last kissed?
whats your obsession with the last person I kissed? It's my baby. My little 2 year old punkin face baby. Can I NOT kiss her without you planting stories in the press and having the papparrazi stake out my home with video's and flashbulbs? Wha? Huh? No-one's staking out my house taking pictures of me? I'm not famous? That is quite unfortunate, as I've totally invited ALL my friends to the awards ceremony when I win my Emmy. Shit.

Does anyone hate you?
A certain X just may. He just may.

Last place you hugged someone?
Alec's bedroom when I hugged him good-night. He doesn't like kisses anymore. Wipes 'em off. Makes me sad, so we just fore-go the whole experience.

Do you know anyone named Matt?
Sho' 'Nuff. He gave me away at my wedding. Fucker. What the hell were you thinking??? It was your job to yank my a$$ out of that hideous "church". Wanna pay for the divorce?

When was the last time you talked to one of your siblings?
Few days ago.

Is your hair curly or straight?
Straight

Who was the last person you took a picture with?
My kids maybe....don't know. There were lots of cameras at my Mom's party. (Not mine though. Thanks Travis.)

Do you have a best friend?
A few. Luckily.

Do you remember what you were like a year ago?
Yes. It was a sad state of affairs.

Do you use smiley faces on the computer too much?
Whats your definition of too much? :-) ;-) :-p :D

Who did you last go out to eat with?
Marc and my chit-lins

Do you wear glasses?
I'm supposed to. But that Bratty Baby Turkey keeps breaking them. Gonna hafta beat her one of these days.

Is the sun shining?
Somewhere...

What jewelry are you currently wearing?
a necklace my old neighbor and dear friend made for me

What were you doing at 10pm Friday night?
I think I was sleeping? Maybe? I don't know. That was almost a week ago dangit.

Where was your honeymoon?
Hahahhahaha! My husband was on mid-tour leave from Iraq. At the time I told myself that he deserved to spend that time hanging with his friends even if it meant I didn't really get a honeymoon. Now, I realize it was just another excuse for him to party. Just like our wedding was. A$$hole was drinking a beer before I even made it to the reception. No, there was no "Entrance of the Couple" or whatever. Ugh. Bad question.

Have you ever broken someone's heart?
Yes. It sucked.

Do you have any weird inside jokes?
I'm a weird inside person.....so yep.'

Do you find piercings attractive in the opposite sex?
not necessarily

Could you go the rest of your life without electricity.
No internet? Kill me now.

Name something you dislike about the day you're having?
Um. Let's not go there. Not blogging because I can't think of positive rays to send out...remember?

Is there anybody you're really disappointed in right now?
Yep.

Do you miss someone?
Dearly

Do you watch a lot of TV?
not at all. When I get uber bored, I watch my shows online

What was the last reason you went to the doctor for?
to tell her I wasn't taking any more of their "crazy pills".....they didn't advise me to stop. But they were the same bastards who advised me to start being a zombie with a pretty complexion. Dusty, dirty, cobwebby time of life. Thank God it's over.

Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 months from now?
Goodness, no!

Have you ever wanted something you couldn't have?
Haven't we all?

(The picture is of my middle Turkey. My only boy Turkey. He's the one that makes my heart beam rainbow's out my a$$. See why?)

Happy 50th Mama!

We're back and I'll post more pictures (with promised video!) as soon as my Mother emails them to me....if she has the nerve to email them to me.

We had a wonderful time! Homemade peach ice-cream, family, and the river. I'm finally relaxed.
My Mom wasn't as surprised as everyone wanted her to be, but she was thrilled with the way it turned out.

It says a lot about a person when so many people you've known your whole life will come together to celebrate your 50th birthday. And, go to such lengths to make it a wonderful and joyful experience for you. My Mom is blessed, but more than that..she is an extraordinary woman. She has faced adversary's that we never think of. And came through the other side with an outlook on life as positive as if she'd never been there.

I'm proud of my Mom. I consider her one of my best friends, and certainly the one person who I can go to for anything and know that the advice I'm given is tried & true. Or she won't give any.

All I can say is, my Mom rocks. And guess what she got for her birthday? Guess..No, I don't want to tell you. You have to guess.
Fine crybaby, I'll tell you. She got rocks. Yep. Are you jealous? You should be. The rocks were her favorite part. Really. They were. She's not senile. She just likes rocks. What?

I love you Mom!!!

Retreat to the River

The Turkeys and I are packed and ready to go to my parent's house for the weekend. My Mother's 50th birthday is looming, and her parents & assorted siblings & cousins have planned a surprise party for her tomorrow morning.
She knows though. Betcha money she knows. They all do this for each others 50th. And, hello, my brother and I are driving in together tonight for an impromtu visit. She's gonna know the second she hears us pull up the drive...
I'm totally stoked! It really is wonderful to live close enough to my parents that a weekend visit isn't a 4 month long planning process! (I knew there were redeeming qualities to DF-Dub!)

On another note, Hurricane Ike is being a rat bastard about wanting to eat him some levees. I think I'll be safer on the Illinois River in Oklahoma than I will be in my little house scared and alone with a buncha' squawbling turkeys.

I shall be back with pictures of several 50 (& younger & older) year young women dressed in ball gowns having a food fight....or some variation thereof. If you're really good this weekend, I may even post video of them singing their (horrid) rendition of "Happy Birthday"

(The photo above was taken at my parents Independence Day party. The river is their front yard....and it's a beautiful oasis to go to when you've had a week as traumatizing as we've had 'round here)

A moment of silence.....

It's been 7 years since the World Trade Center attacks. Seven years of war, misery, heartache & turmoil. It suddenly occurred to me today; my children have never really known a life without a war in Iraq. When I was growing up, war seemed like something that happened to other countries. Not ours. Our country had finally figured out that war was senseless.

My Father was in the Navy, both my brothers were in the Navy. (I could say both my Fathers were in the Navy, but one was a POS, so he doesn't get props here) I married into the Army.
Our daughter was born while my husband was in Baquabah, Iraq. My Mom drove me to the hospital at 5 o'clock in the morning and stayed with me throughout my labor. She was the first person to see my little baby be born, and she cut the cord.

My children have welcomed home many a sailor and soldier from Iraq. To them, it's a far off place where boys go when they're older to 'protect' our country. It's a way of life.
They aren't shocked at the knowledge that millions have died and are still dying.
Am I the only one who thinks thats wrong?

I sometimes get the impression from my son that he thinks he's going to have to go to war too. I try and make him understand that he makes the choice...then he comes home and tells me I'm wrong..."It's called a draft Mom, they can make you go to war, unless you have flat feet. Then you get to stay home."
Yo, kiddo. Your seven. You don't have to worry about a war.

So, to whoever wins this dadgum election, please put a notation on my sons roster that says he's got flat feet. Or hands. Or a flat brain. Whatever it takes.
Or, here's a novel idea....Lets figure out a way to end this thing. Whatever it takes. Cause, my kids not fighting this war. Got it? Great. Thanks.


P.S. I'm not saying to surrender. Or Forget. Just get this $hit figured out so my kids can be as carefree & clueless and I once was. Please don't burn my house down. I love the USA. And, I support our troops. Like you wouldn't friggin' believe.

My Jen-nay

Happy Birthday lady! I wish we were celebrating together and not trapped in separate states. I want you to know I'm thinking of you, even though I can't be there for you.
You are an awesome woman, a rockin' Mama, and an amazing BFF. I love you, and I'm always here for you.

Rockin' Iced Coffee

I haven't had a chance to try PW's iced coffee recipe, but I've wanted to post my own because...well it's super yummy. The problem is, my camera is on strike. OK, not really. Really though, it's in the trunk of my brother's car. Because he keeps camera's when I loan them to him. He doesn't do it on purpose....I don't think.
Anyway, here's my rendition of blogging a recipe. Hope you enjoy;

Brew a large pot of coffee, and as soon as it's done brewing remove it from heat and cover with a dishtowel. (That'll keep it from sweating too much)
Once it's cooled to almost room temperature (or so...this isn't rocket surgery) pour into a serving pitcher and place in the fridge.

Once your ready to make your iced coffee, grab your favorite mug and throw about 1/3 of a cup of crushed ice (you can also make coffee cubes and use those if you'd prefer)
Pour your coffee to just below the rim and top with whipped cream.

But here's the secret;

Smucker's ice cream toppings. Drizzle some (or alot, if you're feeling frisky) over the top & stir.
Better than Starbucks.

Please don't shoot me. I didn't mean that. Starbucks is the Coffee God, and I'm not worthy.

Now, go make yourself some iced coffee and tell all your friends to visit my blog and tell me how wonderful and Martha Stewart like I am.
Thank you.


P.S. The picture at the top of the post isn't mine. Like I said, my brother is a thief forgetful. I stole that one from Google. Surprisingly, it looks just like the cup I use for my iced coffee. Only mine doesn't have a handle. I want a handle. Dang it.

Rubber Monkey

This is my baby. Isn't she cute? Don't you just want to snuggle her chunky cheeks? Do you like her olive fingers?
This kid rocks my world. If you have eyes, then I'm sure it's fairly obvious why. And, trust me, she is much cuter in person.

She tried to kill her little self on Sunday. I haven't written because I promised myself that I would write about whatever happened to be on my mind. And since we left the hospital, I've been fighting to get the images of what happened out of my mind. It's not going anywhere though. So, I'm going to go ahead and post this. Child welfare listen up. This is how it went down; (PS. Just kidding about the child welfare thing...maybe in bad taste. Who said I had good taste?)

My baby Turkey and I had just gotten settled in to watch the VMA's and she opened a drawer to get a diaper out. Even though I was sitting right there, I can't tell you if she leaned on the drawer, or pulled down on it, or was just shutting it....Regardless, the television (which weighed about 100 pounds) toppled over and flattened my 24 pound baby. I have no idea how we got through the next few minutes. I don't know how I found the hospital in this town I've only lived in for a few months. I don't know how my baby is ok.
She is fine. Thank God, for giving babies rubber bones. She seems to be a little sore whenever she wakes up from keeping still for so long, and she has a scratch on her leg about half an inch long. Barely broke the skin.

I'm amazed at the resiliency of children. I remember (clearly and will forever) the moment that I saw the tv start to wobble. I couldn't get to her fast enough. It was the worst feeling I've ever known, and (between you & me) I'm crying again as I write this.

I wish I could say, "Lesson learned" and be more aware of a danger that I hadn't yet thought of in my (almost) decade of parenting, but that particular danger has been the stuff of my nightmares for a while already. It's NOT something I'd never thought of. I've always been careful not to put things the kids might want on objects that could tip over on them. Dressers, bookshelves, and yes...even the television. Simply out of fear that they'd go climbing for it and disaster would hit. It never occurred to me that the same thing could happen within 7 feet of my reach.

So, what the heck happened??? I don't know. The only thing I've been able to come up with (and believe me...I've wracked my brain for answers) is that while I was cleaning, I must have pushed the stand back farther against the wall than it was meant to be, which made the tv (and it was a bit too large for that stand) unsteady.

I promised drama didn't I? And, now I feel that I've delivered. Let's just stay away from drama involving my precious children from here on out, shall we?

Hug Your Turkeys

...that's all I wanted to say. They're too fragile not to, so just hug them.

mmm...Coffee

Pioneer Woman is my hands down favorite blog. I check her website before I check my email. I love, love, love her writing style.
I could go on & on...but that would be kind of stalker style, so I won't. But, (I love butts) she recently requested that her lovely readers ask her whatever question they've been dying to know regarding her culinary skills. Since I couldn't ask her to come live at my house & cook with me Rachel Ray style everyday, I asked a simple question.
And you know what?
She answered it. More than a thousand comments & mine was answered.

I feel like the popular kid in the blogosphere high school just invited me to the Party of the Year!

So, here is my question & The Esteemed Pioneer Woman's response.

For a coffee lover, I haven’t seen an iced coffee recipe…and since it’s my current obsession, do YOU have one?
I’m an iced coffee lover—I drink it every morning. Here’s what I do: Grind a pound of coffee beans. Put the coffee grounds in a large pitcher. Fill it with warm water, cover the pitcher with a towel, and let it steep for at least 12 hours on the kitchen counter. Then I strain it with a very fine mesh strainer into a container with a lid. Then I store it in the fridge and use it over the next couple of weeks. To make the iced coffee, I fill a glass with ice, then fill the glass half full with the cold coffee-liquid-concoction-potion stuff. Then I splash cold milk—or, if I’m feeling particularly naughty, half & half—over the top, and stir in a tiny bit of sugar. Oh, lawsie MERCY, it’s good. You can also just mix in water if you don’t like creamy iced coffee. You can also mix in ICE CREAM if you want to sell your soul.

Knowing that PW makes her own iced coffee too (and it's just as serious a process as mine) made my day. If you haven't read her, you really should check her out. Her recipes are easy, & fun. Written in a style that makes people like me look like Martha in the kitchen. (With a lot less perfection than Martha)
I won't get started on her photography. Go see it for yourself. And swoon.

~ What they don't teach in sex ed ~

I am a mediocre Mother. I've learned, in the past 9 years, to suck in my pride & deal with it.
I've been known to *gasp* forget on Tooth Fairy night(s)! I'm guilty of hollering at the Turkeys for leaving backpacks & lunchboxes strewn throughout the living room, kitchen & dining room, while the diaper bag, and my purse, & shoes are just tossed wherever they happened to land when I tornadoed through the door. My weekend catchphrase is, "If your hungry...make yourself some food."

All these things, (and more...oh Lordy! SO much more!!) conspire to instill in me a daily gut wrenching of "Mom guilt"

(I'm convinced that if we could make all girls between the ages of 12-20 feel a smidgen of the guilt their children will cause them....we'd have a serious decline in teenage & unwanted pregnancy's!)

I try and bribe my guilty conscience with the ideology that I really do have great kiddo's and so, I must be doing something right. Right? But, in all honesty, I don't think anything I'll do will ever be enough.

Those kids rock. And they roll. And they're the bomb dot com.
I think...(and what I think is the only thing that matters since I'm the one raising the buttheads)
that having guilt is all part of being a parent. Maybe I'd feel a little less guilt if I had millions of dollars and could give them all their hearts desire, but there would be something still.
I feel guilty when my son tells me he's bored. A little pang in my chest telling me that I need to find something fun, creative, constructive to engage his beautiful brain so it doesn't turn to mush.
I feel guilty when my oldest daughter tells me a girl in class was mean to her; like I should have been there to tell the other girl off.
Mean girls don't disappear with money. I'm willing to bet they get worse, actually. Boredom & Money have never really seemed to just be cool. They usually end up in a 3-some with drugs or worse.

Tonight the baby didn't want to go to sleep. I kept laying her back down with her woobies, her sister's "Lucky" lion (we give her what she wants. we don't fight it), giving her kisses, smoothing her blankets, and singing her lullabies......ok. no lullabies. They ask me to stop when I sing.

But she just kept popping back up. Like a friggin' Jack 'n' the Box. She doesn't just get up and roam around though. Oh no. She beelines straight to me with her lips puckered up and makin' kissy noises! The demon!
How do you punish that? I can't tell her to go back to bed and ignore those elusive kisses! And, once I've kissed her, I can't punish her for being up again.
After about 14 tuck-ins, woobie searches, & kissy marathons ~ I finally lost it. Kid had to go to sleep. I told her I was going to spank her fanny if she got up again. She didn't listen. Surprise...surprise. I fought those little lips though! I used my super human Mom shield to fight the magnetic pull they have over me, and I smacked her little diaper, turned her around and marched her right back to bed.

Ignoring those tears was the worst part of my day.
I wanted to run in there, scoop her up, and snuggle her little sobs away. But, I acted like a parent who has to teach her children limits, rules, routine....blah blah freakin' blah.

The point is. I did what I had to do in order to maintain my status as Alpha Dog around here. If I didn't, these Turkeys would skateboard all over me. But, it sucks. So, now...I'm sitting here with "Mom guilt" wishing I could wake my baby up and tell her that I didn't mean it. She can do her Jack 'n' the box routine all night long if she wants to.... as long as she gives me those sweet 'n' sloppy kisses in return!

Good Night & Tip Your Waitresses!


P.S. She went right to sleep after I showed her diaper who's the boss around this dump!

Two Wheels Move the Soul & Hurt my Bum

I'm getting tricked into a 3 hour motorcycle ride tomorrow. Could be fun. A good friend of mine has been using my garage for the past week to restore a wrecked Ducati Monster 7-something, I don't really know.
Now, I'm all up for an hour or so on the back of a bike cruising down the open road with mountains and rivers surrounding you in their nurturing cocoon. But....but...but....

It's HOT. And, HUMID. And did I mention DF-Dub? Um. Traffic out the wazoo. Semi-Trucks & Corvettes doing 120 are NOT my idea of a nurturing cocoonish type experience. I want to hear the sound of the Ducati revving up when it cruises up a mammoth hill. I do not want to hear 46 different radio stations blasting through the air at ear breaking decibels.
I want to rest my chest on the back of a guy I've known and trusted for longer than I can remember. I do not want to be looking around in fear at the thousands of vehicles rushing along beside me, around me, through me, and gripping said friends thighs while I battle a panic attack of epic proportions and my life flashes through my mind, and I pray that my babies will forgive me for being selfish enough to take an afternoon off.

So. Ya. I'm gonna go. Why? Because this friend saved me. Pulled me up when I was drowning and didn't even see the water rushing over my face. He found a beautiful house for my children and I (that I'm not starving to afford), gave me work through his company where I can keep my baby with me at all times, and smacks me around when I start whining that it's all too much. Dude keeps things in perspective. Dude would have a heart attack if he knew I called him "Dude"!

So, if he wants me to ride a Monster till my bum falls off. I will.

And, dammit. I'll like it.

Get your mind out of the gutter. A Ducati Monster. Motorcycle. You Dirty Bird.

Love & Sloppy Kisses

It's Britney Bitch.

I'm just gonna say it;

Britney Spears better damn perform at the VMA's on Sunday. As a Mother (and a woman with mental issues) I'm rooting for her hardcore. I don't care if her family made her crazy, or if K-Fart is going to take half of what she makes off of MTV this weekend....girl owes it to the people who watched with bated breath, as she turned into the raving lunatic we all wish we could be! (Admit it...Starbucks, sex, & rock 'n' roll? Don't fight it. Release your inner demon)
She's a performer. I don't care if you like her music. Her dancing. Her antics. She's a damn good performer and has been since she popped out of her (just as) Crazy (as me) Mama.
I will be buying her next cd. And, as someone who hasn't bought a cd in 6 years, that's progress.


UPDATE: Way to go! 3 Moonmen for Pieces of Me. A song produced in the throes of mental destruction. Now. Show us what you can really do.

Pitiful Conversations

It's so sad what children do to their Mother's social life. We go from being care-free and clickin' our heels...to dragging 90 pound diaper bags around our necks like a noose. OK, maybe not quite that dramatic...but take this conversation I had with a dear friend the other day;

*Ring* *Ring* *Ring*

Me: "Hello"?

Dear Friend: "Hey! Haven't heard from you in a while, just wanted to check in!"

Me: "Oh! Hey Lady, what's crackilackin?" (Yep..I really said that)

DF: "Oh not much...just getting kids ready for school..you know how that goes. How 'bout you?"

Me: "Just about the sa...."

DF: "Wait, hang on one sec, "GRAYSON, I SAID, IS YOUR ROOM CLEAN???"....Sorry about that, oh wait, No, Grayson...not those paper towells, those are Daddy's garage towells. Use these. OK. Sorry again. Go ahead."

Me: "Oh well, I was just saying things are..."

DF; "hang on...hang on. Sorry. Kimberly? Kimberly? Is that you? Kimberly? Kimberly?hang on one sec"

Me: "Um, ok."

*phone muffles...barely*

DF: "KIMBERLY JANE. GET in HERE! Do you not hear me calling you? Kimberly? Kimberly? KIMBERLY??!!?!?!??!"
"Oh my goodness....TEENAGERS!...now what were you saying?"

Me: "Oh, I don't really remember. Nothing important. Um, do you wanna call me back when you aren't..."

DF: "Oh, Kimberly...sorry, one sec...Kimberly, I need you to get the checkbook out of the top drawer of my desk in the computer room....Ok...go ahead"

Me: Do you want to call me back when you....

DF "NO KIMBERLY! THE TOP DRAWER. No, No, Not that one. No, the other one. No. Kimberly, Look. In. The. Top. Drawer."

Me: Why don't you call me back?

DF: "OK, it was great catching up with you!"

Me: "um. ok. sure."

DF: "Grayson, no, not like that. This one. Wash like......CLICK"




P.S. Names were changed to protect the obnoxious.

The Swing of It

I'm trying to get back into the swing of the whole "blogging" thing, and have been hitting a brick wall for days. Do I have anything interesting to write about anymore? I've read through so many blogs trying to answer that for myself, and you know what? I really don't have an answer. What may be boring & mundane to me, could be someone else's idea of tranquility.
So, I guess...for my first post in forever (and my first ever public post), and what I plan on being a (at least) daily blog I'll just ramble on about myself for a bit & see if anyone gets bored enough to bash their head into their keyboard before I finish. (btw...if this is you, please come back. there will be drama. I promise. Drama is like coffee...like chocolate...like, well...I can't live without it)

I'm a newly single Mama Duck to 3 Turkeys. Yep, I know Turkeys & Ducks are different. Wanna makes sumthin of it? As a matter of fact, one of my Turkeys is actually a dog. The other is a rabbit. Another is a dragon. Yep. Factor that in before you go all hoity toity Species Scientist on me.

My oldest Turkey (the Rabbit) is 9. I say this to myself several times a day because I'm still getting used to it. She sometimes looks at me funny because I stare at her and mutter, "nine. holy batman, Robin. She's Effin NINE"
My middle Turkey (the Dragon) is my only boy. He makes my heart beam rainbows out my ass. Ya, he's that friggin cute.
My baby Turkey (the Dog) is two. And, if you give me any hell for still calling her my baby. I will send you a burning bunny in the mail. Give you and the postman something to whisper about!

I'm newly single because I finally stopped taking enough prescription medications to kill a horse, and realized that I was unhappy with my marriage. Not my life. Not ME. Not anything other than him. He was (is) a Seargent in the US Army. Don't get all mushy now. Your on MY side....remember? Hello?? Hello? Um, is anybody there? Hello?
Someday, I might go into gory details. Right now, I don't wanna. OK? I just don't feel like it. And, at therapy rates THIS high, I don't think I have to. Uh, wait...this isn't therapy? It's free? Well, you still can't make me. Unless you offer me coffee. Or chocolate. Yep.
For now, lets just say that he hates me & I hate him. Yes, we have a child together and yes, she'll be affected by this...but for now, she's a lot less affected than when her Mama sat around like a zombie & cried for days on end without rhyme or reason.

So, thats it. I'm a single Mom to 3 Turkeys (dog, rabbit, dragon). Oh...and I have a cat named Tiger-Jac, a dog named Simon, and another dog (that isn't really mine, but I can't get rid of him cause he loves me too effin much) named JR.
We used to live in the Rocky Mountains, but have relocated to Humid DF-Dub as Mama has to work cause Turkeys don't support themselves!
More on that later.