Holiday Errands

So I was checking out the 3rd grade stocking wall art at the bank, deciding on which to vote for in this local-yokel contest.  And it was obvious who the girl artists were-purple hearts on snowmen and carefully coordinated Christmas trees were a dead giveaway.  And then I spied #17.  Totally a boy stocking.  There was no premeditation in the placement of glued foam objects-sparse as they were (all 3 of them).  As a matter fact strings of dried glue crisscrossed the stocking like a crazy train of runaway reindeer had trampled it in reverse.  The wobbly angles of the snowman bespoke volumes on poor fine motor skills (that clearly had the kindergarten teacher shaking her head in despair!).  And well, the expression on the snowman's face ...well, it was kinda strange.   But oh, the raw joie de vivre of #17's artwork!  You know he was quite content (proud even!) with the final product, oblivious to the sympathetic teacher and all those persnickety little misses with their glitter extravaganzas.   So of course I voted for him...9 times!!!

I BELIEVE IN YOU #17!

So I'm blithely cruising through Barnes and Noble when I nearly topple over the display of those naughty little elves that are the new rage.  You know, the ones that spy on kids and do bad tricks and write annoying letters that threaten to tell Santa on you???  Well I shrunk away like I had nearly been bit by a cobra.  Who has time for pretend naughty elves who make extra messes that require pics posted on Facebook and threatening, witty letters that you have to keep for years and years???  The boy-man-barians over here at blither blather headquarters are making messes for freakin' REAL, people.  I ain't paying $29.99 for a freakin' pretend elf to do that sh*t too.

 Laws...!

Almost Done...Maybe....NOT!

*********************************************************************

I've been hustling and bustling all over town lately trying to get my sh*t together.  I swear!  I wish I were one of those women who had her holiday list together in August and had it completely executed  by October 1st (I HATE those kinda freaks).  No, I am one of those clueless, bumbling fools who cruises through the store backtracking for hours trying to find inspiration midst the jammed aisles of holiday shoppers who are elbowing each other in the eyeball for the last Lego-whatever....  So, no.  I am not done.  I will not be done until...well, I'm not really sure...  You will probably see me gritting and gnashing my teeth in some store today.  But that's what makes Christmas, Christmas!!!  LOVE IT!!!

My fav gift I have bought thus far is for my youngest blither blather fan-Lil Miss ('member my f-bomb throwing 6 yr old friend who loves kitties and tiaras and Jesus-that's her!?!).  I couldn't help myself.  Mr B looked at me like I had lost my mind when I clutched it to my bosom and lunged for the counter to pay a damn fortune for..  A RED VELVET PURSE WITH GIANT POINSETTIA!!!  Laws!!!  I LOVED it instantly.  Er'y lil miss needs a velvet church purse to put her lip smackers gloss and tiny white bible and dollar in.  That way WHEN she drops the f-bomb in front of the Episcopalians....she will have done it in STYLE!

Time to get those last minute items...or DIE trying!!!

Have a hustling. bustling day, y'all!!!

Merry Merry!

The halls are decked at blither blather headquarters

and the stockings are hung with care. 

Now all that's left is a trip to the liquor store...

In the annual Christmas tradition, lil brother and I went to big kid's Christmas band concert...  And of course it was a typical kid musical event-honking clarinets and all.  But for f$#%'s sake, the lady in front of me who wouldn't shut the f$#% up nearly made me lose my groovy holiday mojo.  I swear!  Laws, y'all...  I wanted to beat her to death with jingle bells.  Give me an irritatin' kid over an irritatin' adult any day.  Anyhoo...

In the spirit of holiday cheer, I signed up lil brother and Mr B to ring the Salvation Army bells at Wal-Mart on a Friday night with a group of squirrely cub scouts.  Can y'all imagine?!?  No way in HELL you could whip me into doing that...  For the record: MR B IS A GOOD MAN.

Hope all is merry and bright for you & yours!

Day in the Life

Morning:  "WHO GOT THE CAT WET!?!" booms Mr B to a soaking wet lil brother who is dripping from the shower and standing there all innocent and perplexed in his towel.  Now ain't that a mystery....

Later that day:  Lil brother and I set out (against my will) to deliver the over priced crap from the school fund raiser to our victimized neighbors (which btw frosts my @ss that schools are pimping kids to sell cheap @ss plastic crap for exorbitant prices that not even the Russian Mafia would have the nerve to extort).  Anyhoo...  So we pass by a neighbor who is outside carving pumpkins with her kids and I wave and say a friendly greeting when lil brother announces in his booming voice, "THAT LADY DIDN'T GIVE OUT CANDY LAST HALLOWEEN!"  Which made me squeeze his arm and hiss in his ear about keeping his trap shut 'cause I prefer to talk about people BEHIND their backs not up close and personal and in hearing  distance.

Minutes later still circling the neighborhood:
"So who else did you sell this crap to?!?"  I grouse, trying to decipher the list with names I don't know with no addresses.
"I sold stuff to de lady who does drugs," he informs me.  
"What?!?"  I stop in my tracks.
"Yeah, dat lady who lives dere."  And he points to the house.
"What do you mean drugs???  And how do you know this ?!?"
 (And yes, I get the irony of being concerned with where my child has gone a month ago.  But whatcha gonna do???)
"Dere was cigarettes on her porch.  I saw it."

Next year, I am paying lil brother $20 bucks to NOT sell this crap.   Kids....sheesh!

Dodging a Bullet

After a girl's slumber party weekend, my gal pal and I stoically brace ourselves for having to pay back the hubbies (who have been on kid duty all weekend) by graciously performing our wifely duties-albeit that would mean "performing" on a Sunday-which the Bible says is a DAY OF REST.  Don't y'all just love quoting the Bible when it suits your own selfish purposes???  Anyhoo...  I decide to take care of business and just hope that God's not looking in my direction while I do what a working girl has to.  So later I check in on my friend who boasts that she dodged a bullet and is surfing the Internet without being molested or felt up by a hopeful hubby.  Her secret???  She just got out the tampon box and put it by the potty.  Which gives her another five days free...seven if she's a good actress, and he's not paying attention.

...Now how brilliant is that?!? 

PS-Unfortunately that lil trick doesn't work over here at blither blather headquarters.  I guess leaving the tampon box out for 3 weeks kinda blew my cover with Mr. B...

Whackadoo Hangover

So the preacher's kid is in my back yard as I stumble out the back door in my sloppy pj's and pony tail with no bra/make up to holler the dog back in...at 4 PM...after unsuccessfully trying to nurse a rum headache for most of the day. And he wants to have a conversation with me... and pet the dog...and tell me sh*t... and I'm clutching my old stretchy v-neck sleep shirt just trying to keep my boobs from popping out as I mumble and nod sumpin' unintelligible before slamming the door in his face mid sentence. Laws...

So even though I have a rum-skull-buster of a headache, playing Whackadoo Bingo with the ladies was SOOOOOO WORTH IT. Oh, and just to put your mind at ease, I did get rid of the "drug" evidence on the back patio which lil brother found and reported on at the last lady party... i.e.: an ashtray filled with cigarette butts. I tell you what, the Red Ribbon Week at the elementary school is really killing all the grown-up fun 'round these parts.

In other exciting news: I am already thinking about getting out the CHRISTMAS CRAP! I know, right?!? Screw Halloween and all that ugly black-death-sh*t. I bought myself a hand crafted gourd Santa at the local craft fair, and I am ready to get out the freakin' jingle bells-just as soon Mr B gets home from camping with the boys this weekend. Y'all know he's gonna be thrilled...

Confucius Say...

The ancient Chinese had the wisdom of Confucius; the ancient Greeks had the sage words of Aristotle.  We, however, have Internet flotsam.  Enjoy!

Last Night:
Lil brother comes busting through my bedroom/bathroom door to show me his "murderer" costume for Halloween with his spend the night buddy hot on his heels.  Only problem, I am sans habille (that's fancy French for what we Southerners call "nekked") as I step into the tub.  Of course I holler, and he does a 180 and slams the door before spend the night friend gets a look at mama boobies.  Praise the Lord!  'Cause if I have to call a mom to 'splain THAT then he is NEVER HAVING ANOTHER FRIEND OVER FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE.

Honestly, I do think we need to de-mystify the boobie.  It is a universal truth that you will not die from seeing your mama's boobies.  And yes, I understand that all kid's have to clutch their throats in the universal death gasp as they jerk their t-shirt over their heads and make gagging noises.  Sheesh... it's just a BOOBIE, for God's sake. 

However, for you voyeur types (that's fancy French for what we Southerners call "perverted peekers") who are curious about what  Blither Blather boobies look like, well... just picture Kim Kardashian.  Yeah, we're practically twins...  Go ahead:  I know you want to Google that. 

How's THAT for de-mystifying the mama boob?

Hello Blog...It's Me Again...

Hello again....  I know, right?!?  It's been awhile...  I have seriously been wrestling with some major PISS & VINEGAR issues-mostly political & philosophical-which I know may sound surprising considering the drivel that normally gets posted here-but I have been downright vitriolic while foaming at the mouth with bitterness.  Sombody oughtta put me outta my misery.   A rabid skunk probably has a better world view than I currently do.  My mojo seriously needs an overhaul.

The fact that I am even willing to post this much must mean that gallons of caffeine and a daily B vitamin occasionally decreases a smidge of b*tchiness for like 3 minutes...sometimes...if the sun is shining.

Lest you think I have become abysmally bitter and boring, I will share this lil detail of daily life:  I ran into the neighborhood Bunco-Porno-Clear-Heel-Wearing-Glitter-Boobed-Slut-Wannabe at the local Laotian nail salon (that's a whole nuther story involving awkward smiling and nodding which resulted in my getting a ridiculous flower painted on my big toe like a 12 year old).  Anyhoo...  I kept my head down, averted my gaze, and clutched the year old copy of The Enquirer like it held the secret of eternal youth in it.  Posting stuff on the Internet 'bout real life folks has a tendency for making things, shall we say...  AWKWARD???  You'd think I'd know better by now.  And FYI-she was wearing NO BRA.

Lastly, I met a guy who introduced himself as a Wicken (I'm supposing a real life WARLOCK!).  Ain't that THRILLING!?!  And y'all, I know this is mighty un-Christian of me, but I am seriously considering having him put a hex on someone.... I'm just biding my time.... Like, FOR. REAL.  And if he's just some Faker Harry Potter Freak then I am definitely gonna put that on the Internet too.  I ain't playing, is all I'm sayin'.

Progress Report

Good morning, gentle readers!  Please pardon the silence over here from Blither Blather headquarters.  As you all know from the previous gnashing of teeth posts, I have returned to my day job.  And although that always entails some form of high drama, I am happy to report that I have played well with others this week.  The f-bombs have been folded and put away, and I am wearing lipstick while smiling politely and affirming others.  IT'S FREAKING EXHAUSTING, PEOPLE!  How long will this last, you ask???  I feel your scepticism, dear friends...  Ambitious as this may sound, I am hoping to get to Labor Day before the gloves come off.  We shall see...  And of course where else would I go with all the juicy tidbits but straight to the Internet for your reading pleasure.

Oh!!!  I have a new goal for the work year:  making my bed DAILY!!!  So far, 5 straight days!  Who knew this could actually be done?!?  And I  must say the universe feels much more like a friendlier, less hostile b*tch when I return home to my tiny corner of  peace and order.

Household chaos is gonna be the death of me one of these fine days...  Happy laundry day!

Matisse

Balm for the weary soul..... priceless indeed.

O-VER!

The fun is O-VER here at blither blather headquarters.   And it's back to work I go...   hi-ho-hi-ho-hi-ho.... @#$!  And it's not pretty, people.  Totally sucks, if I'm honest.  So don't be expecting rainbows and skittles on this blog for awhile...although I don't think I could ever be accused of THAT.  Thank God.  So thanks for stopping by and checking in.  Rest assured I am either stress eating BIG bowls of ice cream,  throwing f-bombs and foaming at the mouth, or slumped over the computer in a daze.  Not a damn thing funny 'bout that...   So here's a Blunt Card to help us get O-VER the shock of back to the grind.  Mercy...!

What I Learned This Summer

This has been my lucky summer. I have learned 3 new tricks to ward off irritatin' kids.  Let's review:

1.  "I'M NAKED!"
2.  "I'M ON MY PERIOD!"

................................DRUM ROLL!!!......................................

3.  THE BRA LASSO!!!

I unintentionally discovered the bra lasso while lil brother was jumping on my bed (again!  in spite of my yelling at him to QUIT IT!).  I'm picking sh*t up from the floor and tossing it on the bed...when  the black bra sailed through the air and smacked him across the chest-mid jump... and the recoil was INSTANT, his  face contorted in horror and disgust.  So of course I snatched it up and started swinging it over my head like Wonder Woman and commenced to chasing him through the house shouting, "IT'S GOING TO TOUCH YOU! IT'S GOING TO TOUCH YOU!"  Which caused total pandemonium and got the dog and cat riled up too.  Of course big kid is slouched out on the couch watching YouTube and casually comments as we zip past him, "Really MATURE, mom..."  WT*???

Okay...  So mature it's NOT.  But effective???  Totally! And a pretty good work out, I might add.

TRY IT!!!

Happy Bday, Mr B!!!

Mr B celebrated his 45th  b-day this weekend.  Mr B-who does a terrible job of keeping up with his current age-reported that he will be 45 twice because he spent year 44 thinking he was 45 already.  Forty-four is pretty overrated I assure him.   So raise a glass of cheer for Mr B's second go 'round at 45!   May he be continually blessed with squirrely kids and a sharp tongued wife with an axe to grind.  What more could a man want in life???

Since Mr B clearly has a memory issue, I am going to record for posterity a few b-day details that his sons can read to him when they visit him in the nursing home with their squirrely kids:

2011 B-day Details:
*Went to see the movie Cowboys & Aliens with Honey and family
*Grilled brats & dogs
*Boys made a white cake with white frosting and lots of sprinkles. To lil brother's profound regret I only let him put 12 candles on the cake instead of stabbing it full of 45 candles-which is a little much at our age and likely to catch the house on fire.
*Spent the day swimming and hanging out
*Boys gave their dad recycled gifts-The Fart Book (which never gets old for any of them) and a pair of shutter shades-what every cool dad needs...
*Watched our current fav show Falling Skies
*And my gift to Mr B...well, let's just say, use your imagination...!

Happy b-day Bunny!!!

Trading Places

In a moment of ire, lil brother informs me, "You would be MAD if you hadda be me!"

Me:  "Oh YEAH?!?  Why's THAT?!?"

LB :  "Cuz you's always bossing me around! (He mimics in a girlie voice)  GO DO DAT!  GO DO DAT!  You wouldn't like it AT. ALL."

And we just both stood our ground giving each other the hairy eyeball...

And just between you and me and the fence post.....He's RIGHT!!!

Learning Experience

I knew I was forgetting to tell y'all something...  Last Sunday big kid volunteered to work in the 2 yr old classroom at church (I know, right?!?  Kids are soooo clueless...).  Frankly, I'd rather be burned at the stake.   But anyhoo...We pick him an hour and half later and before he has passed through the threshold of the classroom, he announces in his booming voice (weird detail:  big kid has the gawky frame of a fledgling teen but the booming voice of 47 year old man):  "THAT WAS TERRIBLE!  THAT WAS THE LONGEST HOUR & HALF OF MY LIFE!  THERE WERE 8 OF THEM-BUT IT FELT LIKE 20!  AND ONE OF THEM PEED ON THE FLOOR!  MAN!  I'M NEVER HAVING KIDS!"  And Mr B and I just chuckle to ourselves.  Who knew that taking big kid to church would be the best form of future birth control???  Love it!  Gonna sign him up again...

"His People"

So I finally capitulated and took lil brother to go see "his people." By that I mean the dudes who work at our local used video gaming store. Lil brother just loves these paid-by-the-hour dudes. These guys are about 37 years old, wear old, faded black t-shirts with Pac-man iron-ons, haven't shaved or showered in days, still live in their parent's dark basement, and have played Every. Single. Solitary. Game. EVER made. So lil brother will hustle up to the counter with his baggie of dollars and change and will ask for the most obsolete game... and every time they're like, "Whoooaaaa dude! I LOVE that game. Just a minute... Hey, Gus!?! Where's that (fill in the blank game)? I KNOW we had it. YESSSSS!!! HERE IT IS DUDE! You are so lucky, man."  And lil brother is TOTALLY stoked. Of course I have to ask the obligatory mom question about whether there are any naked ladies in it, and they assure me just killing and cussing which is perfectly acceptable over here at blither blather headquarters. I'm not necessarily proud of that, but lil brother's already blown my cover on that one... So hopefully this will be my last trip of the summer until lil brother's fall b-day which is around the corner. And then I can guarantee you he's gonna be begging to go visit "his people."  Until then...! 

Losing It

I lost my sh*t in the school parking lot and went all Rambo on big kid. He told his dad, "Mom acted like I was a hooligan! She grabbed my shirt and yelled cuss words at me!" Well...okay...GUILTY! But when big kid slammed the trunk lid on lil brother's collar bone which threw him onto the asphalt in writhing, screaming agony, I crossed to the DARK SIDE. And tasting blood was the only thing that was going to calm the beast... Truth be told, the only reason big kid lived to tell about my misdeeds was because the marching band was practicing in the parking lot, and I wasn't sure that I could contain that many witnesses. Long story short: lil brother has a bad bruise but no broken bones, and big kid had to be his personal slave for the next hour as penance for his stupidity. Can you imagine having lil brother as the boss of you??? I give myself major creativity points on this one.

So later I call in big kid to apologize for being such a crazed mama grizzly bear who nearly ate her young for breakfast. And he mosty forgave me...so I offered him a trip to Sweet CeCe's if that would speed up the forgiveness process. And he felt pretty sure that that would cover his attorney fees and damages and future therapy bills. So I tell him we will officially bury the hatchet, but he tells me, "Too late. Lil brother just told all the kids in driveway that you tried to wrestle me down then cussed me out." ...F@#$!

Understanding God

Lil brother keeps asking me clarifying questions as soon as I issue him a command or request. His questions often start with "How come?" or "Why?" And I sharply remind him that it's not for him to know or understand all the Why's or How Come's of every request. He just needs to listen and obey... And as I said this very thing, the cosmos shifted and a little ray of heavenly understanding sunk in... Who am I to always be asking/whining/demanding/stomping my foot at the Why's and How Come's of God's infinite universe??? Like me, God is BUSY (OK-busier!) and has a lot on his plate. And like lil brother I may not have the maturity or understanding to be entrusted with upper management issues. Clearly God has a game plan, and I am just one of his many players. And some things are just above my pay grade frankly. I need to listen more, argue less, and have a little FAITH once in awhile that God's got it covered. Just maybe not in my time or in my fashion...God be praised!

May those families in Norway feel HIS infinite love and pressence in the midst of their tragedy and heart ache.

Snippets

You know how I recently discovered how the phrase "I'M NAKED!" drives off kids and can give a gal a good few minutes of much craved privacy??? Well, I discovered another one recently. "I'M ON MY PERIOD!" You'da thought I'd scalded big kid with boiling oil. Suddenly I'm walking by myself...not a kid in sight. And I just smile to myself... (FYI-neither of the above work on husbands. You have been warned).

The thoughts of August are starting to piss me off...in a bad way. Y'all know how BAD I hate February...well, August can just go !$#@ itself. S'riously, what a buzz kill. Sucking my fun. Making me buy sch-l sh*t I du-wanna. August-spit!-you are DEAD to me! Dead, I tell you-spit!

I saw a mama at Wal-Mart lose her sh*t yesterday in the parking lot. Her toddler was kicking and smacking an older kid who was struggling to carry her to the car mid-meltdown. When the mama sees her lil hellion carrying on, she shrieks, "Are you hitting your sister?!? DON'T HIT YOUR SISTER!" SMACK! She pops that bad baby a good one. And yes, the irony was exquisite. And yes, I get it. I am guilty of the same thing...laws! Not even Jesus himself couldda withstood the temptation to fire up that baby's leg though. Good thing that the devil never thought to take Jesus to Wal-Mart with a bad baby. He surely wouldda cracked... Just sayin'...

Big Kid

I am feeling convicted about how little I tend to write about my eldest boy-barian, big kid. He is often left out of the Blither Blather chronicles simply because he's often on the go chasing his passions and hobbies leaving lil brother and I to our own messy devices. And although many parents dread the teen years, I have to say that big kid is a 13 year old who I not only like...but respect.

1. The kid is a "Yes, ma'am!" PRO. Every time. No questions asked.
2. There is no household chore that the kid won't do...with no complaining.
3. He lives drama-free.
4. He strives to be pure in body and spirit...and often holds us to a higher standard. Not to mention he runs 3-4 miles daily and can't understand why people would abuse drugs or alcohol.
5. There is no adventure he won't try: flying alone at 10, rafting, climbing, camping, skiing, etc. You name it. Give him a backback, and the kid will GO.
6. The kid is a Jesus freak. And I am often inspired and convicted by the depth of his faith. His moral compass is turned upward. God knew what he was doing when he put this kid in my life...

Isn't it a marvel how our children are our best teachers???

Love this kid... I can't wait to see the man he will become.

Who's Being Punished Here?!?

So lil brother lost his TV/gaming privileges which meant that I ended up being his entertainment for the afternoon. You'd think he wouldn't wanna be up in my grill all day long seeing as how I was the "bad guy" who put the hammer down on him. But no such luck... So we play a round of Go Fish, followed by Mancala, then Candy Land and next CLUE...which I ABHOR but he LOVES... And yes Colonel Mustard did it again with the candlestick... I tell you what, I gotta think up a better punishment where I can have some peace and quiet in the future. And now that I think about it, the kid had a blast playing all those games ALL afternoon. So WHO is being punished over here at Blither Blather headquarters?!? Lil brother wins another round. ...sigh!

Count Down

Lil brother has me check the calendar every other day to see how many more days before his birthday...and there are 54 remaining, as of today. The kid is desperate BIG TIME for his BIG DAY. So I actually sat Mr B down to have a bday planning meeeting/discussion. And here are a few things we've decided...

1. We ain't paying money to rent out some over-utilized-kid-tastic place for a few hours when we have a perfectly good backyard for FREE running around. Will I have to clean the house before, during, and after said event??? !@#$ YES! But we're embracing this retro-old school-stay-at-home birthday party ideology. Sugar crazed kids thumping through the house squirting silly string while screaming like a serial killer's just been released in the bedroom...nothing like it, really. And yes, someone will get hurt, someone will be terrorized, someone will cry, someone will throw up... It's a PARTY for crying out loud. Who would want to miss out on all that???

2. We are not holding adults prisoners. I know this is a little socially awkward to admit, but...other people don't give a sh*t about your kid's bday. Who wants to hand over 1/2 a Saturday to watch kids do all of the above...and worse??? Adults have important stuff to do... like laundry. Plus adults will resent you a little less if their $12.99 bday investment buys them a few hours of freakin' peace from their own annoying kid-let alone your and 12 strangers' kids. Totally worth the investment and the pain in the @ss shopping trip.

3. NO GOODY BAGS!!! !@#$ THAT! Who thought that up anyway?!?!? Dante should have made that a realm of hell in his Inferno for the fool who thought that giving kids bags of plastic sh*t to sprinkle throughout mini vans and houses across town was a good idea. The dog is gagging on it, the husband is stepping on it and cursing like an enraged Russian sailor, and you have to dismantle the vaccuum cleaner to get a piece of it out of the nozzle... I hope the creator of that "good idea" chokes on a plastic piece of goody bag crap... Some people...

And that's about it, really. We will survive. Lil brother will have his shining moment, and the event will go down in the family annals. And hopefully no animals will be hurt in the process.

Welcome to the Club!

We celebrated my gal-pal L's 40th bday last night. And it was a fabulous event. There was a keg, lots of food & drink & goodies, fresh cut flowers, kids running around, the sounds of organic music and singing, ladies in dresses, husbands propped in corners, and even a pair of granny panties that materialized...from God knows where! PERFECT!!! It was the kinda adult party that teenagers aspire to. My friend L really turned the corner in style. Welcome to the 40 & Fab Club!

When Mr B and I got home, big kid (the conscripted baby sitter) was fast asleep (exhausted from ignoring his brother for several hours) and lil brother was hopped up and roaming around in his polar bear pj pants-thrilled to have some party company walk through the door. So I had my late night debriefing with just lil brother-who had the bright-eyed, bushy tailed look of a squirrel on crack. And he informs me that were no problems (yeah, RIGHT) and all the milk is gone...WT??? Once lil brother is in bed-wide awake and no where near ready for sleep-I solve the mystery. There's a bottle of chocolate syrup sitting in a gooey puddle on the kithen counter. Lil brother's been mixin' and chuggin' chocolate milk-getting his PARTEEEE ON! Looks like good times were had...by ALL!

Preposterous Request

Mr B calls me from two counties over while picking up big kid at scout camp to ask me if I will go look in the garage in the white cabinent on the third shelf to find his.....CAULK GUN?!? ...WT@#$! Do I look like someone who jumps up for a CAULK GUN?!? And let me tell you, I grudgingly went to look. But I'm no dummy. I've been taking boy-barian lessons. I stand in front of the cabinent with a blind stare for 1.7 seconds before I proclaim with absolute finality, "It's not in there." And don't think for a minute that I rummage around looking either. Oh, HELL NO! I ain't never seen a man or boy over here at Blither Blather headquarters actually move sh*t AROUND in order to find a requested item. So I tell him the best I can do is leave the garage door open for the neighbor who needs...what was is it again??? Oh, yeah....the caulk gun...

Lest you think I'm totally unhelpful (never mind all the grunt work I did today), I will have you know I was in the MIDDLE of attacking the turtle in my MAH JONG game when he called. And we can all agree that that is WAAAYYYYYYY more important than a whatchamacallitcaulkgun. Pffftttt!

Terrible News!

Via People Magazine (my fav news source!):
Kate Middleton (the Duchess of Cambridge) is Bringing back Sheer Panythose

Ohhhhhh Gaawwwwddddd!!! Ring the Clarion Bells! Join Forces!
Ladies, be strong and STAND TOGETHER! Repeat after me: OH, HELL NO!!!

Member your mama spanking you before church and squeezing your arm cause you were whining and resistant to be rolled up in sagging hose that ALWAYS had a run in them and were sliding down your hips that you had to continually claw back up or pick out of your butt??? Remember surviving the 80's and all those godawful white hose we wore with all that permed hair???

Laws... I refuse. On principle. Been there. Done that.

BLASPHEMY!

I have a sassy, smart, young 20 sumpin' friend who is planning her wedding (love you, J!)...and is considering wearing NO MAKE-UP!!! I nearly had 20 heart attacks at the thought! BLASPHEMY!!! And of course, I could NOT keep my opinion to myself. I wouldn't be caught dead without make-up...even at my own funeral! Full face, is what I told her. And NEVER skip foundation. EVER. Oh, and waterproof mascara for big events that change your life. And full on eye make-up so your eyes POP in those pics... THAT WILL LIVE FOREVER...sometimes longer than the marriage itself. It's one thing to regret your choice of groom. Your choice of looking bland and blah on your wedding day??? Oh, HELL NO!!!! No amount of therapy can fix that regret... Y'all also know I NEVER leave home without lipstick or gloss. I mean, what if you spy the high school boyfriend in line at the bank??? Laws, whip out the tube of gloss, of course! So glossed lips at your wedding is a MUST-although lined and lipsticked is better for all that kissing, chatting, and eating you're gonna be doing.

I have WORE myself out worrying 'bout this. As you can see from all those above exclamation marks. Who knew the thought of NO MAKE-UP could send me into such a tizzy. BLASPHEMY!

FYI-I remember my first lipstick. I found it in my granny's bathroom cabinent. It was Cherries in the Snow. And laws, it was DARK! And I LOVED it... wore it down to a nub. Which led to pilfering old, nearly dried out bottles of foundation from my mama which I (badly) applied in my middle school locker mirror, to thick bright blue eye liner in high school... And y'all, I've never looked back!

Keep applying, gals!

Crazy Chinese Lady

I have a new manic-obsessive addiction to the Chinese game of Mah-Jong. And I think it's beginning to affect my "real" life as I walk around muttering to myself about east winds and green dragons and bamboo nines and the cursed fortress and the spider's relentless snare. It is the last thing I think about at night and my first goal of the day to dismantle the turtle or the cat before I will even consider getting out of my nightgown and dealing with chores an' such. OK-so call me weird. But I will be the MASTER of the dragon's teeth...if it's the last crazy thing I do.

fashion quiz

'Hood Report

Nuthin' much happening in my neck of the woods. Hope y'all survive the heat index of 110 degrees today....laws! That'll really ruin a gal's hair for sure.

Stay cool!

Fashion Advice

Ok-so this was a stupid question to ask a man. But no one else was around, and I really needed some fashion input on my upcoming shopping trip. "So what new direction do you think I should take my wardrobe?" And Mr B answers surprisingly quickly for a man who has never given 7 consecutive seconds to the thought of putting clothes together.

"Trashy," he assures me. "Throw in some Wal-Mart, some Target, a little bit o' last year, and a few hand-me-downs, and you're covered. Although if you're not in the mood for trashy, I personally prefer slutty..."

And I'm not gonna lie, I was IMPRESSED that he had this much knowledge on the topic, as I sat their mouth agape. Who knew that MR B, of all men, knew sumpin' about women's fashion??? However, not sure that I'm gonna use him as my personal shopper. Looks like I'm gonna be calling some girlfriends today for some REALZZZZ advice.

Relaxing Woman vs Working Man

Have y'all ever watched a man "work" from home? Well, at the risk of starting a marital fight via this blog (trust me gentle readers, this is familiar territory for me-have no fears), I have been observing this phenomena while on summer hiatus from my own kick @ss job. You'd think while on hiatus I'd be "resting" or "relaxing." Call me up on any given day and you will hear the hiss of the washing machine, the churning of the dishwasher, or the thumping of the dryer in the background as I text, talk on the phone, or fold and put sh*t away. Actually stop by for a visit, and you will see my @ss bent over throwing sh*t in a basket while hollerin' at disappearing chil'ren as I'm windexing the counters and stirring the pot on the stove. I guess you might call this multi-tasking (i.e. "woman relaxing"). Contrast this to the "man-at-work" phenomena: he sits on couch intently and obliviously watching History Channel or Pawn Stars while kids, pets, and wife run amok and chaos ensues with no visible signs of stress or anxiety or an increase in blood pressure or pulse. And when you ask him about the project he's working on which is due the next day, he assures you, "Yup. Almost finished." WTH???

I've decided I need to retire from this "relaxing woman" gig and get me a "work from home man job." I don't even care if I get any vacation days or insurance benefits. I just wanna focus on ONE THING AT A TIME....like holding the clicker, thank you very much.

Visitin' Day

Norman Rockwell painting

Today was visitin' day. We went to check on Grandmother at the old folks home...and the parking lot was FULL!!! I actually had to do some AGRESSIVE driving to finally circle my way outta there and park at the Kroger's gas station, walk over, and then cut through the landscaping just to get into the old folks home as more folks were pouring in. Who knew?!? I mean this place was busier than the MALL where I had just come from. And when we finally got inside, the place was a hustling-bustling beehive with folks shucking and jivin' all over the place. Come to find out, Grandmother told us, lunch was about to be served (I swear it was 10:45 AM), and they were serving hot roast beef with gravy, biscuits, green beans, a salad, and fudge pie...ALL FOR $3!!! Now y'all, this is about the best kept secret in my little town. Grandmother even said, "They serve real country cooking here. This food has taste!" And from all the elbowing I had to do to get in there, I BELIEVE her. I'm making a reservation for next week.

Kinda makes you look forward to your turn at the old folks home.

Come-to-Jesus Meetin': Success!

Y'all know that I was threatenin' to have that Come-to-Jesus meetin' with lil brother a few posts ago??? Well, it happened. And even Mr B got in on the action. Truth be told, Mr B just wanted lil brother to settle down and fly right just so I'd quit chewing on his @ss 'bout it. But whetev....it got results. Point in Case: All day yesterday, ever time lil brother spoke to me, he addressed me as his "shugah-love"-in EVERY SENTENCE outta his mouth as a matter o' fact.

And for the time being, I feel quite justified and mollified...

SICK

I am SICK and disgusted by the Casey Anthony verdict of not guilty. SICK, I tell you. That poor baby was murdered by it's mother. Do I have ABSOLUTE PROOF??? Well, HELL NO! And I don't need it. Circumstantial evidence is enough for me. What the hell happened to good ol' fashioned COMMON SENSE??? Remember when you were little and first learned the sayings, "Walks like a duck, quacks like a duck?" or "Where's there's smoke, there's fire?" What more truth do you need than that??? Looking up chloroform and neck breaking and having the smell of death reak from your car trunk??? And did I mention the hair fibers??? How can that be ignored??? If jurors need ABSOLUTE PROOF to believe a person's guilt, then why are they so willing to believe the defense's fiction of sexual abuse and drowning? Did we have ABSOLUTE PROOF of that?!? Pshaw... SICK, I tell you. Justice did not occur in that court room for that sweet child...

Casey Anthony might be celebrating her "victory," but she has to live with the everlasting truth of her choices and actions. Every second of every day. Not to mention living a life looking over her shoulder waiting for retribution...or justice, perhaps? That woman has just entered purgatory... so let her have her "freedom." That will be nothing compared to the final reckoning she will have with our almighty JUDGE & JURY.

SICK and SAD, I tell you.

Happy 4th

God bless the USA!

Man-Dilemma

Five minutes before loading up and moving out for church, Mr B gets a very IMPORTANT phone call. From the CABLE GUY. Who wants to come by EARLY. I know, right?!? This is right up there with hitting the big lottery, for crying out loud. Whoever heard of a cable guy coming by EARLY?!? Preposterous! I could tell from Mr B's tight, pained voice that having to choose church over the cable guy was KILLING him. With every fiber of his being I could tell he wanted to shout, "C'mon over dude! I'll be waiting on ya, man!" The agony and pathos was EPIC. But instead he drove us to church all slouched over and deflated and defeated. Poor guy... Life just ain't fair.

Cleaning Day

Woohoo!!! It's housecleaning day!!!
I know the troops are gonna be dancin' for joy when I break the news after their br'fast cereal rampage.

Cleaning Tip:
There's a mom in my neck of the woods who lives with 3 boy-barians and REFUSES to go upstairs to their boy quarters EVER (y'all know how BAD I hate to do the same). So here's what this forward thinking mom does: she sends them upstairs with the digital camera to take pics of their rooms, and then she reviews the evidence....downstairs! BRILLIANT!!! This lady is my new hero.

Cleaning Story:
While floating in the pool the other day, this mom friend told this story about zapping out cleaning orders to her three chil'ren. The youngest pipes up, "Why don't YOU do sumpin!" So she does. She flips him over her knee and wears his @ss out. Now how bout that?!? Don't you just LOVE a story with a happy ending???

Happy cleaning day, y'all!

Oh, my...!

Well, now... This bumper sticker gave me sumpin' to re-think. Generally speaking "slut" is about the worst name a gal can be called down here in the South. But now with this new achronym afloat, we may ALL be jumpin' on the bandwagon. Generally speaking I am way too finicky and lazy for the old-fashioned definition of "slut," but as a modern woman living in a hectic world...I just might have to embrace this newfangled terminology. As they say, "When in Rome..."

True Confessions:

1. OK-I was impressed with Anthony Weiner's ummm, ya know...
2. Shia LaBoef should keep his mouth SHUT if he had the good fortune to get naked with Megan Fox. Only douche bags kiss and tell. MAN CODE, dude! Follow it.
3. Does anyone really give a rat's @ss about Lyndsey Lohan???
4. I can live with dirty floors, but I am NEUROTIC about tidiness.
5.

Private Conversation

"Don't come in here! I am NAKED!!!" I shout from the closet. Which makes lil brother do an about face. And gives me an uninterrupted 20 minutes to chat on the phone in peace...fully clothed. HA!

Aspiration

Real life @ blither blather headquarters... It's EXHAUSTING, y'all.

Thank God for (No) TV!

Monday went a lil sumpin' like this:

CLASH OF THE TITANS
STARRING MOM VS LIL BROTHER!!!

So later in the afternoon lil brother asks me, "Who made up taking de TV away from de kids for a punishment???" And he is totally perplexed by the audacity of such a radical and unnecessary idea. "I mean, what else are de kids gonna do?!?" he logically queries.

Me: "Not sure. But pretty brilliant, huh???"

And honestly, whoever thunk that up needs a freakin' NOBEL PEACE PRIZE for sure.

Moment of Contrition:
So lil brother finds me lying prostrate on the bed after a full day of trying to slow his roll, and he crawls up to snuggle. He puts his big square hands on my cheek, looks into my eyes and says, "Do you need some lotion on your feet???" ...And all is right in the world again. I'm a total sucker, y'all.

Pain in the @ss

Jesus Murphy Malone! Lil brother has been stubbornly riding my @ss 'bout WHY he has to do his language workbook over the summer. Even though he KNOWS exactly why considering that was one of the conditions for participating in his martial arts class-which he LOVES. But with equal intensity, he HATES having to practice language skills. According to him, it's BOR-ing!!! Godamighty!!! When I complain to Mr B about all the manipulation and questioning and renegotiating that I have suffered and endured, he just archly stares back at me. His expression an essay in irony as he gives me the once-over. So I just harumpphhh off about my business, mumble bitchin' to myself...

Know this: There is a Come-to-Jesus in Lil brother's future FOR SURE.

Murky Parenting

So we let big kid invite a friend to the water park... but not lil brother...who said, "Das not fair!" followed by a huff, a stomp, and a door slam... And he's right, it's not. But Mr B and I didn't want to have to closely watch someone else's lil kid flounder around the deep end at the opposite end of the pool from our lounge chairs. So call this selfish (if you must), but we just wanted to soak up some rays in freakin' peace and silence without having to do the life guard's job ourselves. We actually discussed this beforehand, so this was a deliberate c*ck block to lil brother having a play date. And btw-he actually had a blast doing his usual fearless danger-ranger antics with no one to negotiate with as well as hanging with the older, "cool" kids. And Mr B and I got to lie in our chairs uninterrupted without having to get up and watch/worry about kids. Mission Accomplished-guilt free.

OK-moving on to the neighbor's kids (this is the juicy stuff-although a little risky to put it on the Internet-but who am I to walk away from that, right?!?). Lil brother loves the neighbor kids and has invited the youngest brother X to spend the night multiple times. And every time he does, he comes back to report that X can't come over unless the big brother Y comes too. Sigh....!!! F@#$! Really?!? When did brothers become a package deal??? So sometimes I capitulate and let BOTH spend the night, and sometimes I put my foot down and tell lil brother to tell them only ONE KID. Which I suspect causes high drama next door. And means that lil brother has NEVER been invited to a spend the night at their house and even got left off X's bday party list a few months ago. C'est la vie. Screw 'em... But it does hurt lil brother's feelings. However, a few nights ago, lil brother scored a spend the night invite from friend X. He was ELATED!!! "Dis is de first time EVER!" And I am happy for him. So we pack up the sleeping bag, brush his teeth, put him in jammies, have a quick manners review, and I send him out the door with a kiss. And Mr B casually reminds me, "Hey! You forgot to send big kid with him." And y'all, it was sooooo tempting...

Bunny the Crack 'Ho

My friend rolls up into my driveway with a pink and white zebra license plate that proudly displays the moniker BUNNY in a curlicue script on her hot-to-trot mama carpooling wagon. And of course I am instantly jealous... and curious. Has this magnet school-carpooling mom become a stripper since I last saw her??? She confesses that this attention grabbing moniker came hot off the presses from our local newspaper that had reported on the rather unorthodox antics of a local crack 'ho by the name of BUNNY. My friend was intrigued (and somewhat impressed) by Bunny's boldly whackadoodle moniker that clearly threw caution to the wind and spit in the face of Southern propriety. Southerners KNOW that only grandmothers can pull off a name like BUNNY. No one under the age of 62 should even try this without expecting a social backlash that would keep tongues wagging at the dinner table for five generations, at the least. My friend even reported that her 7th grade son begged her to take it off because he was having trouble at school explaining why he rode in a Bunny-mobile. So as any mother would-she took it off for two months-before proclaiming, "Screw it! Let 'em wonder!" I mean who wouldn't want a BUNNY alter-ego loudly and proudly displayed that would get all those vengeful magnet school mamas buzzing about on Facebook??? Sounds like my kinda fun frankly.

So as I finish typing this, I am currently trolling the criminal section of our local newspaper looking for a rare jewel of a moniker to blazon across my own lil retro set of wheels. If/when I find something tongue waggin' worthy, I'll be sure to report. Until then, there's only room for one BUNNY in this town.

Do as I Say...

Mr B and I were "disagreeing" in the car while driving round town the other day. So lil brother, who'd been listening intently to our "disagreement" pipes up, " Mom, I get in trouble when I say dat stuff back to you like you said to Dad!"

"That's right! I get to say it and you don't!" I retort.

"Yeah...but I can think anything I want, and you can't say anything 'bout dat."

...Hummmmmphhh... Kid's gotta point there.

Martial Arts

I signed lil brother up for martial arts class yesterday, but frankly was a lil concerned about what I might be getting myself into... since he is the miniature reincarnation of Genghis Khan himself on any given day. Not sure why I was given a warrior child to parent...although Mr B has a few theories on that topic that I will NOT go into here...ahem. Nevertheless, signing lil brother up for martial arts means that I have to get on the interstate and fight rush hour traffic, will have to locate all the pieces of the uniform as well as the water bottle and try not to forget it on the counter, and then PAY for someone to teach lil brother round house kicks and the like...which we all know he's going to practice on me, the dog, the cat, his brother, the neighbor, his grandmother, et al. (Notice Mr B is not in the list of potential victims. Kid ain't dumb). So anyway, against my better judgement I put my money on the counter and watch lil brother on his first lesson. And he is INTENSE 'bout this stuff. Totally taking these kick @ss lessons s'riously, as you might expect. But at the end of the class the instructor makes the class turn to their parents, look them in the eye, and BOW TO THEM while yelling their thanks in Korean. And let me tell you what...I woulda paid double for that alone. I've already signed lil brother up for the fall class. I'm getting my money's worth on this one.

Church Lady Dream

Mr B had a dream that our family went to visit another church (ugh!) but once we were seated I decided that we needed to move to another section (sounds perfectly reasonable), so we did. But once we got to the new section I discovered that Mr B had left all our stuff in the other section, so I say to him (in a loud and strident and demanding voice, I'm sure): "You forgot all our sh*t over there!" Which made the church lady in front of us REALLY mad. Who then got into a very accusatory argument with me 'bout my use of wordy-dirds IN CHURCH. So I left in a huff...naturally...with fellas in tow...naturally. Mr B assures me that this was the most true to life, vivid dream he has ever had of me. In my defense, I personally think it is perfectly reasonable to say, "You left our sh*t over there!" if you really did leave all our sh*t over there. Sheesh...! Those church ladies can be so judgey-judgey.

They can just kiss my grits!!!

Dadisms

Lil brother had a dream that he was wearing a jetack and needed to rescue a kitten stuck in a tree, but the jetpack wouldn't work so he gave up and walked down the street flipping the switch on his jetpack that then caught his pants on fire so he ran to the hose by the house and his dad put out the fire. And then got mad at him...VERY MAD at him for catching his pants on fire.

And Mr B said, "That's right! Even in your dreams you'd better not be playing with fire!"

Praise the good Lord for butt-busting dads. Can you just imagine boys running wild without them?!? Laws...

Happy Father's Day to all you fellas out there who are taking care of bid'ness!

I'mmmmmmm Baaaaacck!!!

Ya know what is so refreshing about leaving your zip code and taking a vacay??? It gives you new sh*t to worry 'bout! And we all know that it is vital to the well being of the universe to give your LAST NERVE a break once in a while. For example, here's what was on my vacay worry list:

1. Was that sea weed touching my ankle....!@#$?!? ...followed by wild thrashing.
2. ...one scoop???...or TWO?!?
3. So what is my shuffle board score NOW???
4. Is it time to reapply my sunblock???
5. Oh hell! That wave is gonna RUIN my hair!
6. Do these flip flops match my suit...???
7. Pirates or Transformers...that is the question.
8. So what is the protocol for reinserting a boob into a wave bashed suit???
9. If I owned this place, those curtains would HAVE to go!
10. OMG!!!! WHERE IS MY LIPGLOSS!?!

FYI-Two Ibuoprofen and a four hour nap in a wet swimming suit can cure a fun hangover!!!

Be Right Back...

The blither blather gang is taking their show on the road!!! I'm sure real life will happen wherever we're headed, but I promise to update when we get back!

Happy Trails!

List

I just ADORE making lists! It's one of life's most satisfying activities. Right up there with spa treatments, in my book. I even try and make Mr B sit down and make lists with me. I always tell him, "Let's play secretary and boss, and I'll take the notes!" (wink! wink!) But he's not buying any of that. That sh*t just gets on his nerves. What a killjoy... Anyhoo...!!!

What Excites Me:
1. Packing & planning for vacay!!! Always more fun than the event itself, ya know??? I just bought some adorable travel size products at Target. LOVE IT!
2. Phone calls and visits from good friends...outta the blue!!! Balm to the soul...
3. Nothing to do...nowhere I have to be...Ahhhh!!!

Sh*t that Irritates me for no Good Reason:
1. Cyclists-Get off the !@#fn road already!!! Don't make me and the dump truck try to swerve around you...@sshole. Leave that bike riding sh*t to the French or the 12 and under crowd. Sheesh...
2. Cleaning before, during, and after vacay. Sigh...
3. Crazy @ss coupon ladies who buy 19 bottles of blue cheese dressing and 37 bottles of Nestle Quick chocolate milk...Really?!?! Who needs all that?!?!? You're pissing off a whole lotta people waiting in line for sh*t we KNOW you don't need. And don 't act like you're sending that sh*t to starving kids in Africa...

Gotta go!!! More lists to make before departure time!!!

Toodles!

Chunky vs Smooth

Big kid was discussing (i.e. complaining about) my spaghetti sauce again. "It's toooo chunky! I prefer the smooth kind." ...Sigh & eye roll over his nit picking, culinary preference...

Then lil brother pipes up (seems like er'ybody has an opinion over here at blither blather headquarters). "Yeah, das right! Kinda like chunky barf. Nobody wants to throw up chunky barf. Smooth barf is much better."

Big Kid: Yeah!!!! You're right...! That's exactly how spaghetti sauce oughtta be."

Great. Just GREAT. The next time I make my sauce, chunky barf is gonna be on my brain. Sigh...

Out of the Mouths of Babes

So I've been toting kids to camp all week long and listening to their chatter. Here's some of their thoughts about kids at camp:

"I HATE having to watch those babies!"
"Those kids can't shut up for even a minute!"
"Do they not know how to walk in a straight line???"
"My group is just stupid."

Never one to be left out of a pissing contest, I step right up and take aim too, "Kids are soooooo annoying."

And all the kids in the car agree with me. Priceless...

Romance at the Skating Rink

Mr B presented me with a plastic yellow peace sign necklace at the skating rink last weekend. How romantic, right?!? I mean this was my 1979 fantasy come true-at last!!! I actually gave him the "eye" and forced him to kiss in public I was soooooo giddy with surprise. I mean that's the kinda thing that will help a guy get lucky-so I remind him. "Are you kidding me?!?" he responds. "After all the money I've spent this weekend on your clothes, swim suit, purses, and personal appearance paraphernalia?!? A $1 plastic necklace is what it takes to get LUCKY?!?"

"Yup," I blithely reply. "That's why it's called getting LUCKY. You just never know what's gonna tip the balance."

Gotta keep a man motivated, ladies.

Breaking News: Kitchen Slut at Peace!

Mr B was a little skittish and mistrustful the other day when he stepped into the kitchen and I was cheerfully putting away the silverware (the boy-barians have mutinied on this chore, and I don't have the energy to b*tch about it anymore). He stopped in his tracks, gave me the once-over-eye and a wide berth as he opened the cabinet. "So how long is this gonna last?" he archly queries. "Probably 'bout a week," I reply in a chipper voice as I perform an adorable bend-snap-toss with a serving fork. And for now I am strangely at peace with my kitchen slut status. Although not even I am under the illusion that is gonna last for long... I guess I am just so giddy about my two month hiatus from the roiling, boiling cauldron of my day job that Windexing idly for hours and organizing the dirty dishes in the dishwasher has put me into a zen-like, peaceful trance. So let sleeping dogs lie, folks. Just back away slowly and keep your eye on the door... You'll be the first to know when all this "peace" and tranquility goes BAD.

Adjustment Phase

Lil brother and I are having some adjustment issues now that we are home 24/7 together. Neither one of us can believe the other one rolls that way... Here are the "issues"-lil brother thinks I'm bossy and controlling and demanding and too needy of his hugs. I think lil brother is rowdy and messy and lazy and too standoffish with his hugs. And so the world turns... So we decide to make cookies together. And I let him eat one. Then he begs for another. Even though I said, "One!" So we make a deal-he can have another cookie as long as he goes on a walk with me later. He gobbles another cookie and appears to agree to said deal.

Fast forward to late afternoon: lil brother doesn't want to go on a walk. It's too hot, too boring... And he whines, shuffles, stomps, complains, slows down, jogs ahead, and repeats this cycle the entire walk. So I put my nose in the air, look straight ahead, refuse to slow down or speed up or acknowledge that we are having a power struggle while keeping my power walking pace when all I really want to do is jerk him up by the armpit and wear his @ss out in the middle of the asphalt like a freakin' crazy lady. Just wait til we get home... At which point I announce he's lost all tv/gaming privileges and he can just go to his room for his bad attitude, etc. (yadda, yadda, yadda)...

Thirty minutes later: lil brother comes humbly walking down the stairs, looking (somewhat) contrite (he's not as good a faker as I am) and reports that he's ready to apologize. And I am feeling triumphant that lil brother has finally seen the light regarding his annoying and ridiculous behavior when he says to me, "I'm sorry I went on that walk with you!" ...And I want to THROTTLE HIM while Mr B and big kid are laughing hysterically, rolling on the couch over this brutally authentic apology. So I decide to teach lil brother how a REAL apology should go: "Yeah! Well, so.... I'm sorry I made you cookies!"

And we called it a draw.

Puke & Barf

When I looked at the boys' potty yesterday... omgah.... BA-SCUSTING!!!...as in instant puke & barf. Ever been to a 1970's KOA campground right off the interstate??? Well frankly my dears, that woulda been preferable...

Lil brother and I made a deal prior to our cleaning: I would not yell like an obsessed screaming banshee demon, and he wouldn't be a disappearing, lazy no good whiney butt. Miraculously we both sucked it up....mostly. Afterwards, we took a vote to see who was the deal winner. Interestingly enough, we each voted for ouselves. Go figure... So glad we've got the once a year once-over OVER!

Update & Kissing Cousins Recipe

I've been absent from blither blather headquarters lately due to my very busy and uber-hectic social life (totally braggin' here). As in four nights in a row-which technically makes me a party slut (totally braggin' here). Who knew my dance card could fill up so quickly??? Truth be told, the forty-sumpin party crowd is pretty lame with worrying about work in the morning, getting the kids in bed, and answering work emails that keep popping up on their phones-a total buzz kill, right??? Sadly I'm feeling a little rode hard and put up wet from the past four nights of "partying" which is pathetic considering the events were low key adult functions where only modest amounts of alcohol were consumed and no clothes were removed (sigh...). Right now I'm clutching the coffee mug with raccoon eyes like I just woke up on the sticky floor of a bar at 5 AM when the lights were suddenly turned on by the cleaning crew. So today I'm gonna wrangle the troops to church (i.e. shove Mr B and lil brother's heathen butts through the door) and then drag Mr B to the pool for a sunshine nap. I am determined that we will not blind other beach-goers on our upcoming beach vacay.

A few more yawn-worthy notes of no importance:

1. I need to muck out lil brother's room....but godamighty! I sure am dreading it...the sweating and hollerin' is gonna be epic.
2. Big kid ended his 7th grade year with honor roll and a new girl friend-who is gone all summer. Perrrrrrfect!!!!
3. Mr B and I are going on a 5 day diet....that might lead to our divorce. Stay tuned...

Since you have so kindly and patiently read this yawn worthy post, here is a lil prize for you!!!

Kissing Cousins Recipe (close kin to the Pink Panty Pull Down):
2 quarts of red wine
4 cans frozen juice (lime, orange, pineapple, pink lemonade)
Sprite

Mix all ingredients and VOILA! you have a perfect summer punch!

Cheers to Summer!!!

Marital Advice

Norman Rockwell painting
I was recently asked to write a piece of marital advice for a young whippersnapper on his impending nuptials. So I kept it brief. Cause we all know there are some things worth discovering on your own... Here's what I wrote: "Apologize first and often. That should just about do it." What I wanted to say (but didn't have the courage to put a wordy dird in the uber-cute wedding scrapbook) was this: All marital fights can be amended when THE HUSBAND utters this simple sentence-"I'm sorry I'm an asshole." You'd think that a man could remember this due to its simplicity. But we all know they're gonna mess this up with their reasons and rationale and ridiculous 'splaining. And by the way, fairness and justice and being RIGHT has nothing to do with anything. Simply put: you can take the long way or you can take the short way but their ain't no short cuts. There's no closing the barn door on maritial disharmony UNTIL that sentence gets spoken-BY THE HUSBAND. It's so simple...you'd think a cave man could do it...

Zombie Report-Part Deux

Big kid quote of the day regarding his new book Zombie Survival Guide:

BK: "Other than the bible, this is the most useful book EVER! I mean what are you gonna learn from Harry Potter?!?"

Me: .....Alrighty then...!

Summer Reading

So this is the book that big kid has chosen for his summer reading. When I saw it I naturally snorted in good humor. Really?!? Upon further perusal of my $15 investment (I know, RIGHT?!? The zombies' accountant must be thrilled.) I discover it has real chapters, diagrams, appendixes, references, quotes, etc. I mean people are taking this !@#$ seriously. And big kid is no exception. I watched him at the book store for 20 minutes sitting in his armchair, drinking a tall blended coffee, reading with absolute intensity...and he never even snorted once. For two days now he has been ignoring the TV and video games in order to read this book and then later surfacing to give us important updates such as you will need a machete and sub machine gun when the zombies attack (items for the Christmas wish list); motorcycles are better getaway vehicles than trucks, etc. And he assures me that we will have to move upstairs, fill the bathtub with drinking water, destroy the steps, and hole up for three weeks to wait it out before we can run for safety. On the bright side that means I won't be able to do any laundry when the zombies land since downstairs is off limits, and I can force lil brother to muck out his bedroom with no means of escape which will give us all a reason to work for escape. I think I'm starting to get behind this whole zombie apocalypse now that I think about it. So I say, BRING IT!!! ...Big kid's got this covered.

FYI-I gave several copies of this book for graduation gifts. No harm in being prepared...

Cultural Confusion

Mr B barks orders to the troops to get them deployed on their yard work duties:

Mr B to lil brother: Go get on your shorts and work shoes!
Lil brother: ....but I wanna wear jeans (totally whining)...
Mr B: I SAID SHORTS! (in the voice of Darth Vadar).
Lil brother: (foolishly standing his ground) But the Mexicans wear jeans in the summer when they work.
Mr B: Hate to break it to ya, but you're not Mexican.
Lil brother: ......dang it.

And FYI-Mr B and I had our annual spring landscaping "disagreement" in the front yard in full view of the neighbors. We settled it with intense glares...and eventually getting my way...of course. However I did go to the grocery and buy him some Sam Adams to help the loss go down a lil smoother.

Ready for summer....officially!

Home Alone ...with New Wicker F*cker

So all the boys at blither blather headquarters are camping this weekend. Which means...yup, you guessed it! I AM HOME ALONE!!! But y'all it's never as romantic as you picture it. I actually had to go the gas station myself...AND PUMP MY OWN GAS!!! And we all know that's man work. Sigh... It is soooo irritating trying to figure out which side of the car the gas tank is on. Also the cat was annoying the damn dog in the early AM hours by walking near him (and breathing his air) so I had to fuss at them for getting on each other's nerves at 4:23 AM, then Murph (the good child) insisted on going outside like he was going to pee on the carpet any second, even though he and I both knew he just wanted to chase rabbits, so I got up to let him out...and then discovered there's no dogfood, dammit!... and that's Mr B's job, so there will be a grocery run in my future... and dang it! I next notice that the catbox is full... And did I say that Mr B was camping this weekend??? Sigh... but on the good news front: I did spend $12.25 at my friend's mother's yard sale!!! I got a giant wicker f*cker of a basket, 2 monkey pillows, a brass elephant picture holder, red mixing bowls, a chicken cookie cutter, and a set of mini alaphbet cookie cutters. I am absolutely ecstatic about my treasures. But I am sure Mr B is gonna be a little confused/irritated about the giant wicker f*cker taking up half the kitchen counter... But I am sure he can deal with it. Since I did pump my own gas this weekend.

Reality Check

It's Mother's Day...and in spite of the romanticized BS about honoring mothers, let's just keep it real and tell it like it is:

Today I have washed, folded, cleaned, dusted, wiped off, put away, picked sh*t off the floor, walked the dog, fed the cat, orchestrated, planned, traveled, explained, adjusted attitudes, decided, listened, referree'd, excercised, put-out, grocery shopped, and in other words-cracked the f'n whip. Thank you very much.

And there you have it, folks. Real life minus the romance.

Oh! But I did get a new computer! That everyone insists on using...

To my Sons on Mother's Day

Some mothers are kissing mothers and some are scolding mothers, but it is love just the same, and most mothers kiss and scold together. ~Pearl S. Buck
God could not be everywhere, so he created mothers. ~Jewish Proverb*

Dear Sons,
1. Remember you are God's sons first...mine second. But he did put in a clause that says you have to obey me...or else.
2. Even when I am yelling at you and have crossed over to the dark side: I STILL love you. Just don't turn your back or forget to say "Yes ma'am."
3. NEVER walk through a door in front of a lady. You are getting so much better at this. Thank you for honoring this small and subtle courtesy to all womankind. It will pay off one day.
4. All good things have been sanctioned by your mother. I just made your dad drive you there. So remember to thank the right person...who might be at home in the bathrobe.
5. I love you to the moon and back...and then again. And honestly wouldn't change a thing about this whole messy journey we are on together...but it still wouldn't kill you to pick up some of that $#@! in the hallway upstairs.

Love you ALWAYS!!!

Mom xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

All Hail the Queen

Queen Victoria is famously known for saying, "We are not amused!" And meaning it...

Like the rest of the world, I have been watching and discussing all things British lately, especially William and Kate's wedding and their shocking royal relatives. Recently I became enamoured of a British idiom that I just knew my loyal followers would be delighted to learn (all 3 of you-thank you very much!!!). I accidentally discovered this idiom by watching my new fav reality show Pregnant in Heels with the very sensible Brit star Rosie Pope who is concierge to some of NYC's most uber rich (i.e. uber ridiculous) moms to be. While listening to Rosie discuss her clients, she kept referring to "Queen Victoria." What??? Come again....???? Until it hit me: Rosie was referring to the VIJAJAY (whackadoodle Oprah strikes again) as QUEEN VICTORIA! Jesus Murphy Malone!!! How perfect is that expression??? Which got me thinking of course... Has there ever been a more powerful politician in the history of the world than QUEEN VICTORIA??? And if you study her pic above, the symbolism is rich. QUEEN VICTORIA may not be much on youth and beauty, but laws, put her behind closed doors and she is a force to be reckoned with.

All hail the QUEEN!