Birthin'

The only metaphor that I can rightly compare home-reno to is birth.  It's gory, unglamorous, graphic, embarrassing, agonizing, and tedious.  You get the idea...  The list of adjectives is endless.  Having strangers parade through your spread eagle home is probably the worst though.  Anyone who wants to snap on a rubber glove filled with KY can have a feel or a peek at your private parts-in all their humiliating glory.  And you know they are judging.  I wanted to die a thousand-gazillion deaths when one of the lady workers needed to use the boy-barians' bathroom.  I knew the toilet was ba-scusting.  That weird orange ring around the inside rim was proof enough.  I was so humiliated that I cowered and cringed in my own bedroom-kinda like Eve in the garden when God was shaking his finger at her 'bout that damn apple.  I really wanted to blame it on Adam!  I never could look that poor (rightfully traumatized) woman in the eye.  And yes, I understand that construction workers generally use a porta-potty, and what could be more ba-scusting than that, right???  Uhhhmmm, well....that would be blither blather facilities.  I wish I were more of an avenging-cleaning-angel wielding her righteous toilet brush aloft, but honestly I more closely resemble a slutty slattern with legs akimbo reclining on a sagging sofa.  I just can't bring myself to feel inspired...  Plus God made boys to pee all over ery'thing, right???  Who am I to interfere with the Almighty's plan???

Like birth, no one can do home-reno for you.  There are no willing surrogates.  You just gotta grit your teeth, take as may legal drugs as possible, and remember the Queen as you perform your duty to God and country.  As you can tell, I am desperate to wrap this baby up and pull down my proverbial nightgown over my lady parts.  This process has been quite unladylike. 

Laws, y'all...!

Quips

Norman Rockwell's Saturday Evening Post

Blither Blather headquarters is in full chaos mode with the demolition of our flooded floors (sigh...!).  The dust and trash is downright tragic.  Not to mention all our possessions are stuffed in random rooms and the odds of finding items like toe nail clippers, the cereal, Ben-Gay back rub, or stamps for the bills is nigh on impossible.  This too shall pass...  The nice worker man greets me at the butt crack of dawn with an embarrassed apology.  "Sorry ma'am, I meant to call before coming on over, but my mama was on the phone..."  And he squirms uncomfortably.  I assure him that's THE BEST excuse I've ever heard.  I'm even impressed, frankly.  E'rybody knows that when mama's on the phone, back the f* off!  She was pro'bly speculatin' and trash talking bout some of her relatives or neighbors.  And that sh*t is IMPORTANT.  Clearly my boybarians need more training in this department.

At lunch with lil brother the other day, he asks me what kinda job I would pick if I didn't have my current one.  I tell him I'd like to be a librarian since I LOVE books and organizing.  He is clearly unimpressed that anyone would care about such.  So he pressures me some more.  "OK-well, then, I would like to work in real estate since I love houses."  He quizzically assesses me and then says, "You need to work on your people skills then."  WTF???  I assure him I DO have people skills-which is rich coming from a barrel roller like him.  PPPfftttt.....

Today we are having lunch with the grandma brigade at the nursing home.  We plan to be there early.  Like 10:45 AM.  Cause the old folks ain't playing.  Grandmother assures us they serve real food there-with taste.  None of this healthy nonsense.  And the best chocolate pie...  Trust me:  I will be elbowing my way in.

Hope y'all are enjoying your local watering holes and the easy-breezy pace of summertime!

So it begins...

Lil brother is already riding my @ss, and summer has just begun.  I mean, he's no fool.  He knows that I'm the go-to-gal who makes sh*t happen over here at blither blather headquarters. I even hid behind a door today so just he'd leave me alone.  And don't think that having a year end zombie sleepover party with swimming and pizza and a camping tent gets me any points either.  This kid has plans.  And I'm supposed to execute them-chop chop-and on his timetable.  Laws, y'all...  Our annual summer time come-to-Jesus meeting with Mr B as resident hard @ss is on the horizon.

I got my summer time pedicure off my to-do list today.  This is one of my least fav chores.  Tiny Asian women with sharp implements and dead behind the eye glares really creep me out as they mutter guttural oaths and exchange sly glances over your poor, abused feet.  But I survived and managed to grit my teeth through the callous attack and cuticle stabbing procedure.  The result is a lovely, shiny red that Mr B thinks is super hottttttt!

On other news:  the house is a wreck; my bedroom looks like a teenager had a rave party in it;  I am on a quest for the Jergen's SPF/tanning lotion; I am having Mr B order the first season of Justified for our summer entertainment; and it took me 20 minutes to do a complete swim suit shave today.  Not sure why the female gorilla look is not en vogue this season...  Sigh!  Hope y'all are working on your vitamin D intake and applying lots of sunblock.

So that's it for now.  Hopefully I will have some poolside drama to report soon....stay tuned!

Joie de Vivre

All is groovy over here in blither blather land these days seeing as how I will be on hiatus from my day job very soon.  I am just leaking joie de vivre!  Kinda like an old, incontinent house cat with fresh catnip...  I get it:  this is not my usual bitterfest blather, but I'm gonna run with it after such a piss-n-vinegar fall/winter...  Bear with me, bitter friends:

Mr B and I had a lovely lunch date on Saturday (both boybarians were otherwise engaged-SCORE!).  I wore a new blue, over the knee, sleeveless cotton dress with yellow sandals and peacock earrings.  And my hair totally ROCKED!  Think Wonder Woman with her gold crown...  We had a lovely lunch at an Italian bistro and then went home so I could fulfill, ahem... a debt...  I will leave you with the ol' curtains flapping in the breeze imagery, but I will say this:  Afterwards Mr B was all "Holy sh*t!  Where'd you learn that?!?"  with a look of utter shock, mistrust, and new found respect.  And I just nonchalantly shrug and lean in so he can light my cigarette. 

FYI-

I never reveal my sources.  And I always pay my debts. 

Happy Freakin' Summer!

I'm ready to get my freakin' summer ON!!! Aren't you???

FYI-I'm gonna sneak-smoke cigs, read naughty books publically, take a few trips here-n-there, party with some groovy friends, stay up late watching mindless TV, lay by the pool trash texting, and mix up my fav party bevs while Mr B is the boss of the bbq. 

What could be better???

Happy Mother's Day!

Big kid:  "Mom's like the Supreme Court.  No one trumps her."  Isn't he gonna make a good husband one of these days???  Love that kid!

Lil brother to big kid:  "Mom says I'm winning the Mother's Day competition cuz I give the best hugs!"  Sure nuff.  He's the BEST hugger EVER.

Mr B and the boy-barians did a bang up job for Mother's Day.  We went out to lunch at Olive Garden which is one of their favorite places not necessarily mine-but I just didn't really care.  It was nice to be on a date with 3 groovy dudes.  We also stopped in at the bookstore so I could pick up Fifty Shades of Gray which is getting a lot of female attention.  I suspect it's gonna be a stupid and steamy S&M sappy romance novel (puke and barf), but I'm jumping on the wagon for a ride anyway.  This novel even inspired one of my MILF friends to enact a scene with her hubby-outside-in daylight!  Clearly, I gotta see what all the fuss is about.  If it's stupid and sophomoric, I promise to tell you so.  And if it's, ahem, inspiring-I'm sure I'll be too busy with Mr B to blog 'bout that.

Lastly, my fellas bought me a pink knock rosebush with some stained glass glow balls for my landscaping.  I am looking forward to appreciating my patio and yard all summer long!

I hope all you groovy moms have had lots of hugs and surprises from your own crew.  Happy Mother's  Day!

Projects

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