Inspired by my Father in laws "quote book", it will only be the funniest, and most though provoking of statements, I am gonna try not to do too much mushy shit, its just for laughs after all.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Sometimes, I get sick of being such an asshole. I start to feel, like maybe I am missing out something, not being the perfect Mom, who all the kids wish was theirs. Ill get this wild hair, that I am gonna be the best mom ever. Like super triditional, and be all Martha, or June Cleaver, or some crap like that. I put on an apron, and get out all my baking stuff. And I make a bunch of cookies, and get out all the decorating supplies, and round up the kids, and prepare for this really wholesome rainy afternoon of cookie decoration with mom.

Reid made Batman!

Finn made Spiderman!

Arent they creative!!! Ahhhh, I get a nice warm fuzzy feeling fostering their creativity like this. A feeling that I am really buliding some memories here, that are not going to send them into therapy. Memories that might stick with them for the rest for their lives, and when they grow up, they will tell their kids, "Grandma used to make gingerbread cookies with us, Its my favorite childhood memory!"

And that dream just turns into a big puff of smoke, and flys out the fucking window.

Shes White Trash, see her clevage, and her belly shirt?

I made her a red headed whore, because, I have always wanted to be a redheaded whore

Oh yea, these memories will last alright.

Thursday, November 11, 2010


With Thanksgiving fast approaching, I feel it is my responsibility, neh, my duty, to give you a little information on Native Americans as told to me by my 6 and 3 year olds.

Indians dont have shoes, just feet.

Indians live in pillow caves.

Indians take care of Winnie The Pooh, Lions, Giraffes, and Fish.

Indians eat Spaghetti-o's, eggs, and bad aminals, like bad dogs, but not this dog, cause its a good dog.

and most importantly:

Indians just have underwear! They dont wear pants cause I puked on 'em!

Sometimes, when and Indian eats too many spaghetti-o's, hes has what is called a "wet burp", on his pants.

Update: Miah is Custard, and hes making them chose between their own lives, and the lives of the aminals they take care of. "I am gonna kill either you or them, you pick." They were all like "US!" They totally went Braveheart on him "You can take or lives, but you can never take our aminlas!!!!" Or some bullshit. Braveheart? Hummm, not the best Indian analogy, but you know what I am getting at.

Indian Uprising.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

motherhood in a fucking nutshell

Here's something fresh, and new, and exciting. A quote from me!

Circa 2004

"I don't ever want to put Reid in preschool, because, ya know, you only have so much time with them before you have to send them off to school anyway. I want him with me for as long as I can have him!"

Fast Forward 3 years....

"I don't give a flying fuck if you like it or not, your going to preschool!"

Fast Forward 3 more years...

"If someone had told me "having kids", meant actually having them...with me...all. the. time. I am pretty sure things would have gone down a little differently"

and there you have it, Motherhood, in a fucking nutshell.

In other news, koala is gone. I believe for ever. Remember koala....

Its been a rough day around here, with all the threats of physical violence (mostly involving kicking, and punching and "sacking" {smacking} in various body parts, included, but not limited to eyes, nuts, tummy's, faces, and "ub-side their heathds") from Finn on the evil doers who possibly stoled his koala. Where does he get this violent streak?? I have no idea, I have been trying to beat him in to submission from day 1...What? Whats that? You say violence begets violence? Well, my parents never laid a hand on me and look at what a raging psychopath I turned out to be! Boo-yah! In yo face!

A beautiful light at the end of the tunnel. At gymnastics in the little gift shop, behold...

I know he dosent look that happy here, but trust me, this ended the evening in the rarely seen, almost never duplicated for film, "Whoot, whoot", "Tiggery Miggery Dance" combo...

Sorry about the head tilt, I am not techno. savvy.

Monday, November 1, 2010

I went to the Dr. last week. No worries, I just needed a referral, to a dermo. to check out these giant old person moles all over my body. Anyway, I am in the office, chillin', like you do, and the Doc comes in and sits down to discuss shit. ****Take note those of you with girl children, or no children, who think there is something wrong with mine*****

Doc: So, how are you doing? (furrowed concerned brow, and slightly fearful smile)

Me: Uh, fine? And you?

Doc: Good. So, you have 2 boys right?

Me: Yup. I do.

Doc: And how is that going? (bitch looks like she wants to cry)

Me: Um, well, they are still alive, and have all their limbs, and I am not drunk right now at (checking imaginary watch) 11 am, so I'd say pretty damn good.

Doc: Yea, I have 2 girls.

Me: I know.

Doc: I had a patient in here the other day. She brought her little boy with her. How old are your boys?

Me: 3 and 6.

Doc: Hers was 4. And, you know, boys are really different. It stressed me out, I mean the tension was palpable.

Me: Word Doc. Can you refill my sleeping pills while I'm here? Make it 30.

She is a fucking doctor. A real one, board certified in family medicine. She is concerned about my mental facilities, not because of anything I have done, or said, or anyway I have acted...but because I have boys. Shes never even met them. She doesn't even need to. I bet I could have gotten some seriously stronger shit than sleeping pills, remind me to work that angle next time.