Rad Girls

Have you all ever seen the show Rad Girls? It's on Fuse and it's kind of like Jackass for girls. It is so fucking weird. Last night this girl was running a marathon and drinking creamed corn (out of a beer bong, no less) instead of water, and dumping creamed corn all over herself and then she peed her pants. WHAT THE FUCK?? These are fairly hot girls too.

I saw another episode where one of them carved initials into herself and took a bath in Tabasco....I thought women were smarter than this....

These Damn Kids

You know, my house used to look similar to those you see in the Pottery Barn catalogs. I took great pride in choosing eclectic but matching pieces of furniture and decor that had character.

Now it looks like the fucking Fisher Price ghetto. I'm tired of primary colored plastic crap, I'm even tired of the classic wooden toys, rockers and pedal cars I've bought them. I'm sick of the fucking Elmo figurines and the Hot Wheels cars that hurt like a sonofabitch when you step on them in the middle of the night. I'm tired of seeing play food scattered throughout the house and wedged into fine pieces of pottery that I purchased many moons ago. The next time I find alphabet magnets in my rice steamer I'm just going to go apeshit and throw the whole kit and caboodle into the woods. THIS IS MY HOUSE DAMMIT!!!!

The little kid just pulled down a primitive sugar mold candle holder (mine is black and has more holes and no stand, but you get the idea) and two of the glass candles inside broke. I am ticked. I don't know anywhere locally to purchase them, am unsure if I can find purple glass again and I don't really have the money to be replacing decorative things that we don't use.

Between the pets and the kids, I just can't have anything nice. Next time I want to splurge on something I'm just going to puke on it, roll it in cat hair and then bounce test it until pieces fly off and then I'll remember why I shouldn't bother.

These kids better grow up to be rich, they owe me big time. BIG TIME. They'll be paying me back, as a matter of fact I'm going to go start an invoice for the little kid right now. Destructive little punk.

Speaking of Asses

Britney, where the hell are your pants? You have been fucking whack job crazy lately but this is an all time low (or high? You must be high). YOU LEFT YOUR HOUSE WITH NO PANTS ON. I have a lot to say to you actually and have been composing a letter for quite some time, but you're obviously insane and I doubt you can read, so I won't waste my time.

You know you're losing those kids right? A chimpanzee could care for them better than you could. And Kevin is almost as smart as a chimpanzee.

Your poor mother. Your poor children. Your poor manager. Your poor career.

Get Your Ass Home

So I'm home alone with the kids at dinnertime. This is a big no, no since I am totally tired of being a mom by 6:00pm or so, when they turn into total monsters. I thought I would keep the Big Kid busy by having him use a cookie cutter to make cucumbers into a star shape:

Big Kid: Dere we go, anutter perfect one. Why are we doing dis again?

Ashley: For fun.

Big Kid: Dor Dun? Dis is dun?

Ashley: Yes, isn't it fun?

Big Kid: No. No, dis is not dun. We do not need to do this. We can just eat da cucumbers in circles.

Ashley: I thought you would like this.

Big Kid: No, I don't. I'm going to go play video games.

(I start singing Shameless by Garth Brooks at the top of my lungs)

Big Kid: (running out of his room) What is all dat noise? What is up with all da wacket awound here?

Ashley: I'M SHAMELESS, WHEN IT COMES TO LOVIN' YOU...

Big Kid: You stop dat. You stop dat now. Dat is bad, dat is not good at all.

Ashley: Hey, you don't tell me to stop singing. It makes me feel happy. I'LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT ME TO, I'LL DO ANYTHING

Big Kid: Dat should not make you happy. It does not make me happy Mudder. I'm going to tell you one more time, dor da wast time, no more of dat.

Ashley: AT ALL...

Big Kid: Mudder, you should eat sumtin. Or maybe play da harmonica. Do sumting with your mouth 'cept for dat.

Ashley: I'M OUT OF MY HEAD...

Big Kid: No, no, no, no, no. Mudder no. Mudder, why are you not listening? You are making da wittle kid cry.

Ashley: (singing, singing, singing for as long as I can to prove he can't make me stop, making up words just to finish the song. Big loud finale.)

Big Kid: Dank you.

Ashley: (annoyed silence)

Big Kid: Mudder, dank you for stopping. I told you to stop and you stopped da singing. You stopped making all dat noise. So dank you for being a good wistener and doing what da Big Kid tells you to do.

Ashley: I'M SHAAAAAMELESS....

Big Kid: You're just a bad grul is what you are. You are on timeout from me. I'm gonna be in my woom and you do not come in dere because I do not want you being all loud. I'm going in dere for some quiet.

Oh darn.

Closing Down the Titty Bar

Offensive photo to follow. Cover the eyes of your husbands and sons. Protect your children from such wickedness.

(I know anything I post today will be anti-climatic compared to the drama of the weekend, but I figured maybe seeing my boob would excite some of you a little. Sorry, it's all I got.)
Well it really does suck to be the little kid this week. He didn't get to go to Hooters on his birthday, hHe didn't win the photowow prize, and the titty bar has shut its doors (mommy is sick of having to wake up every morning).

I would probably keep it going at least at night, but he likes to switch back and forth and he's really loud about it and I'm just over it. So tonight (read: any minute now) I'll be enjoying a nice bottle of wine. Not that breastfeeding kept me from drinking, but it kept me from drinking the whole bottle.

I accidentally had a productive day. I went grocery shopping (Why can't I get out of that place for less than $175?) and then I came home to discover that my internet was down. Oh boy was I pissed. I suspected that Mr. Ashley had done this on purpose and he was going to catch hell when he got home.

I didn't want to clean the house because I didn't want to validate his often spoken theory that if I had no internet I would get more done. My counter argument (and the truth) being that I'd probably just read more books or find another way to spend the time. However, there was really nothing else to do so I cleaned the whole house. Well, not the whole house but I did clean up quite a bit.

Finally, I could stay away no longer and thought I would make a list or play solitaire or do something with my computer and it turns out that my internet was just fine, the page I had gone to must have had a problem. What a waste of a freaking day.

Lost the battle but won the war

Well the contest ended 10 minutes early (what a rip) and the girl in the bucket was in 1st by a hair when it did, so I'm pretty sure we didn't win the prize. The only thing I can call foul on is that it didn't end when it was supposed to, had it ended 2 minutes prior he would have won, so who knows what could have happened in the next 10 minutes. At least the winning photograph was a cute shot of a beautiful baby, so a sincere congratulations to that mom, and I know that the only reason I didn't win is because a bunch of pathetic women spent days on end low voting my baby because they were mad I didn't want to get in line to cheat like the rest of them.  It's really a compliment if you think about it.

So I have composed a victory letter, because I know you all love to hate them, so they deserve one more moment in the spotlight.

Dear Grow Some Balls, her Bible Thumping Friend & their Henchmen,

I never thought I'd say this, but I just wanted to send you "ladies" a letter of thanks. I may not have won the prize I originally wanted, but neither did you and in the end, that is all that really matters.

I just wanted to point out that you totally fucked your friend. She probably could have won it, but because of a little help from her "friends", she ended up in 10th place. I remember how you guys kept saying "Let the cutest baby" win...and that baby that won was pretty damn cute. So by your own reasoning, would that make your friend's baby the 10th cutest?

Let's face it, everyone is so over the Photowow thing. Normal people who aren’t involved just aren’t willing to put out as much effort as us crazy moms are. However, normal people who aren’t involved LOVE drama and by creating so much of it and playing your villain roles so wonderfully, you generated tons of interest and made people want to rally together (past tense is rallied, btw, not rallyed, keep that in mind for future love letters) and help me.
 
 Maybe I'll frame one of the "Selfish attention loving weiner gobbler cards" and put that in his room instead, he can't read yet but one day he'll appreciate that nugget of literary genius.

One last thing before I go, because frankly, your 15 minutes of fame is up. Bible Thumper, I got you a card:



*curtsy*

Thanks so much for the drama and the laughs, it's about all you're good for. Also, thanks for the virtual fame and fortune. I feel pretty lucky to have such great readers and friends.

Uup yours....truly,
Ashley

I Pity The Fool...

...that fucks with my momma.

The contest ends tomorrow at 1:00pm (ETA: I guess that is 1pm Pacific, so 4:00pm Eastern time). So keep voting...Entrant 47860...and start thinking of all of the embarrassing things you want to ask me on question day! Don't worry, soon we'll get back to me posting pictures of my kid's lunch and bitching about how tired I am. Mr. Ashley has banned day time naps. He really did. We may have to take him down next.

Look at me, Look at me!

1853 unique visitors and 3707 page views today!! Unbelievable. This was taken at 11:30pm, by the time midnight struck we were up to 2,029 visitors and 4163 page loads. Who even knew.

Photowow Wars: Several Updates

Well I hate to mar the little kid's birthday post with total stupidity, but this is too funny not to share.

So, I belong to several online communities, mostly parenting stuff. When I joined one of the groups, I noticed that they have a Photowow "schedule" and they put the babies up one at a time and gather their resources and vote, vote, vote. Very cool (if morally questionable) idea but the list was already out until March 2008....when my kid would be too old for the contest. So I posted and told them I wouldn't be signing up on the list and warned them that I would be entering him whenever I wanted and that it was nothing personal and I wouldn't rally there for votes because I can see that they have a system in place.

And so I did. Now they are ticked that their entrant has competition. So they have gathered together and are low voting the little kid by giving him 3s and 4s (90% of the 1s and 2s aren't counted). They are also saying things like "They see me for who I truly am" and "I asked for this" and have posted vomiting smilies on the little kid's happy birthday post.

Can we say CRAZY? Totally, truly and completely?? It's a contest, people.

Edited to add: This is an actual post from one of them:

You really want to know what's freaking annoying?YOU.....You KNEW there was a list for a reason. Yet, like the selfish attention loving weiner gobbler you are, you insist on entering your child anyway because you had "no intentions of following the list". I mean really, what makes you any different then the other ladies who have been waiting patiently in line for months for their turn? They have waited and rallyed for the child of the week but NOOOOOO not Ashley. She has to cause trouble once again with her stupid self centered ways. She thinks she is special and above the rules and lists. It isn't fair to anyone involved and the fact that you can't see that makes you a self centered piece of spooge.You may think you haven't done anything wrong and in retrospect, in the grand scheme of things, you really haven't. But when it comes to board loyalty and internet courtesy, you just blew many people away with your rudeness and brazenness to go forward regardless of the fact that there has been a list since March.Would you enter him against one of your fellow Chaws? Highly doubtful. And that just proves that BTBBC really means nothing to you. It is probably like the many things you poke fun of on your blog. It is probably just somewhere you can copy and paste from to get a laugh with all of your Chaw buddies at their expense. Sad, really. Why even bother posting there if you had no intention of being a true member like everyone else?I guess you don't realize that this means war. It's on like Donkey Kong, baby. May the best baby win. And I can guarantee you it won't be your's.

Can you hear the psycho music in the background?

ETA: The pack of wild dogs has now issued a Myspace bulletin to low vote the little kid. Seriously. That's what I get for messing with the fucking Photowow Mafia....

E(yet again)TA: I will gladly accept the title of Selfish Attention Loving Weiner Gobbler. The more I think about it, the more I really like it and think it fits. I may even have business cards made.

And even more because, really, it is great entertainment: So the jerk that put out the Myspace bulletin to low vote the little kid is apparently a devout Christian with a profile full of hardcore Christian stuff. Wouldn't Jesus be proud? Hypocritical Christians are always my very favorite. That's a great spot to be in, holier than thou but going against the very concept. I'm more of an Easter and Christmas Christian and my moral compass is super wobbly, but I'd be just flat out embarrassed to put out a myspace bulletin asking someone to low vote a baby.

You know her kid was probably sitting at her feet in a urine soaked diaper drinking Coke from a baby bottle while she took the time to put that together.

Speaking of husbands, Mr. Ashley totally agrees that I'm a Selfish, Attention Loving Weiner Gobbler. We all knew that I was selfish and an attention lover, but I don't think I've divulged my weiner gobbling skills here. Let's just say she hit the nail on the head. My girl Carol, the girl that came up with the brilliant Hate Mail line has offered to make me Weiner Gobblin' business cards!!! Hell yeah!! I love Carol and I love her work. I can't wait to show you all the goods.

Hopefully this will be your last update on the drama portion of the photowow competition. Although it's like a train wreck and it is kind of fun to argue with people who are wrong, I once read that fighting on the internet is like giving a monkey a knife....nothing good will come of it. So I'm just going to steer clear of those bitches.

Dear little kid,

One year ago today I gazed upon your sweet newborn face, with your peaches and cream complexion and the velvety fuzz of your golden hair, and fell in love at first sight.

And to be loved by you. You love me adoringly, passionately, and persistently. You need me. You demand my love and attention and reward me with grins of pure happiness and a twinkle in your eye that enchants me. I love you, and I love being loved by you.

You have always been so snuggly, plump and warm on my lap, your head on my chest, content to nurse and gaze into my eyes. You are happiest in your sling, cuddled onto my front like a baby koala, observing the world while still hearing my heartbeat. You are my anchor to the world, forcing me to slow down and play with you, making me aware of time rushing by as I watch you grow.

You love people and they are universally delighted by your attention. If somehow they have failed to notice your sparkling presence, you wave them down with smiles, giggles and coos and melt their hearts for a moment. You are adorable and charming and impossible to ignore.

You are your own person and I look forward to watching you evolve into Yourself. I am wistful about the loss of your infancy, this sweet, chubby, cuddly time, but excited to know you more and to love you more and to watch you develop into the amazing person that you’re going to be.

However, in my heart and in my mind you will always be my baby.

I like you, I love you and I’ll always protect you.

Yours Forever,
Mom

P.S. Don't you worry baby, these nice ladies are going to vote for you shamelessly, relentlessly and creatively (Vote here for entrant #47860). You will have one of those prints in your room and we will post a picture of it!

He's a 10

So tomorrow is the little kid's birthday! The Big One! I can't believe it has been a year. To celebrate, I have entered him into the Photowow Cute Baby contest. If he wins, I get a cool Warhol style print to hang in his room and you all will get a whole day to ask me anything you want (except questions that would help you stalk me).

So please go to the photowow website and vote for him, he's entrant number 47860. You can only vote once per computer, so feel free to use every computer you have, including your neighbor, children's, husband's work, library, etc. and I will love you forever. I believe the contest ends Tuesday, so get your votes in by late Monday.

After all, I don't get paid to entertain you all each day and I SERIOUSLY deserve a prize for getting this little monster to one year of age.

Note to Self:

Self, the "I'm going to get started as soon as I finish this cup of coffee" excuse is no longer valid if you have a ginormous cup of coffee that you have taken 2+ hours to drink and is now cold.

Get off your lazy ass, clean up, make your to-do lists for the day and continue kicking butt in the chaw chub club challenge.

From the couch to the fridge is unfortunately only 12 steps (24 round trip!). Get walking.

Edited To Add:

The Renee just inquired about the history of pie safes and why pies needed to be locked up. My best guess was to keep those scent trails from enticing cartoon animals from stealing pies off of your windowsills but apparently that is not the case. This website has a better explanation and photos (and some furniture I'd love to buy):

Throughout the 19th century into the first decade of the 20th century the distinguished Pie Safe served households all over the country. Weekly baking of bread, cakes, cookies and pies were stored in a "Pie Safe" which was a ventilated with decorative Pierced-Tin Panels that kept out the critters and allowed air to flow through so the baked goodies would not get moldy.

Who knew? We keep toys in ours.

She was also questioning me on the meat and cheese thing with the Jews. Don't quote me on that, now that she mentions it it doesn't seem right that the Jews wouldn't eat Hamburger Helper. I was only half listening during orientation (I've always been a talker, believe it or not, and utilized this time to chat) and somehow took this away from the whole thing. Maybe it is a pork thing. That seems more likely. Whatever, I'm no expert.

I Don't Know

So today I dropped off the Big Kid! Miss Sharon was very nice and gave him a hug hello. That made me feel good. She was also thin and was wearing great shoes. Clearly, we've got a winner! I made the introductions, showed him the potty, sat him at his table to color his picture, gave him a kiss and left. He never even batted an eye.

I, however, was overcome with tears in the hallway and almost completely lost it until someone distracted me. Turns out this snotty girl I used to know sends her kid there. Joy oh joy, I get to see her three days a week.

Then the little kid and I went on our walk. We walked around a lake and there was an alligator hanging out near one of the shores. I knew chances were he wasn't interested in me in the slightest, but he had me nervous and I swear I would've done a couple more laps if he wasn't there. I'm totally kicking ass on the Chaw Chub Club Challenge, by the way. Those bitches might as well just send me their money now.

I did that and some errands and more or less waited around to pick him up. Finally 1:45 rolled around and as I peeked into the classroom I saw him happily sitting on the big red rug, learning his numbers in French. Can we say kick ass pre-school? Learning his numbers in French? On the first day? I love it.

He looked up and made a weird, thoughtful, sad about something sort of face. I came in and sat down and Miss Judy, the equally awesome assistant, pointed me out to him and he gave me a small nod of acknowledgment and kept watching her. She then told all of the kids to pick a book and look at it until their parents arrived and he ran to the bookshelf, chose a book and asked her if she would read to him. Maybe he was sad to see me?

I asked the teacher how he did and she said he did great and that he was very cute. I guess she wouldn't tell me if he came out of the bathroom with no pants on or told someone his penis was feeling pretty big. As I sat and waited while Miss Judy explained sonic boom to the kids (I shit you not), I overheard the following conversation:

Clueless Mom: (picks up papers from kid's folder, looks at them) Um, excuse me?

Miss Sharon: Yes, hi! How are you?

Clueless Mom: Are you teaching the kids to write from right to left?

Miss Sharon: Right to left? No. We teach them to write the correct way.

Clueless Mom: Because I'm looking at this paper and he wrote his name right to left and I know another little girl that goes here and she does that too sometimes. I thought maybe it was a Jewish thing?

Miss Sharon: A Jewish thing? No, that's very typical at this age. We just had them write like they normally write to assess where they are at with writing skills. We didn't do a lot of writing today, it being the first day and all.

Clueless Mom: But don't the Jewish read from right to left? Or something like that? I thought that was why.

Miss Sharon: Ahh, that thought hadn't crossed my mind. No, we teach them to write like everyone else.

LMAO. Hello clueless. I'm no expert on the Jewish stuff, but I look like one compared to this moron. Although there is some Jewish reason I don't have to pack a snack on Friday but I don't know why or what it is called. I also didn't know they don't mix meat and dairy. I'm learning though, I'll be an expert in no time.

Miss Sharon hugged the Big Kid and I took him out to the car where I gave him a bear hug and a big kiss and excitedly asked:

Ashley: How was school?

Big Kid: I don't know

Ashley: What do you mean, you don't know? Wasn't it fun?

Big Kid: I don't know

Ashley: Well what did you do?

Big Kid: I don't know

Ashley: Come on, Big Kid, think of everything you did and tell me your favorite.

Big Kid: Art the Dog. He paints. Wit gold paint. Yewwow weally, I guess. Dat's all.

Ashley: That's all? What does that even mean? What else did you do?

Big Kid: I don't know

Ashley: But I want to hear about your day. Was Miss Sharon nice?

Big Kid: YEAH! And Miss Judy is my fwiend.

Ashley: Oh good, I want to hear all about it.

Big Kid: I already told you already. No more.

Ashley: Did you go outside?

Big Kid: Enough mudder. No more.

Ashley: But I...

Big Kid: (Covering face with hands) Noooooooo. Ahhhhhhh!!! Noooooooooo. I say no. Big Kid says no.

Ashley: Whatever

Big Kid: Whatevah.

It is really weird that he has gone somewhere and done things and had experiences I know nothing about. I wan't to install a nanny cam on him or something. I want to know, damn it!

Look what I packed him for lunch (because I'm a GOOD mom):

For anyone studying the background, it's an antique pie safe. So it's supposed to be shabby. It's on purpose. Anyhoo, I was inspired by this blog. What a fun idea!! I love the whole "Bento" concept and I'd like to eat this way myself. Why shouldn't it be fun? Plus, you know the other kids at the lunch table are going to be way jealous. HaHA! I also packed a snack because that isn't much food.
So this is my new hobby. I bet it doesn't make it 'til Monday even. But right now, I love the idea. Tonight I even used a star shaped cookie cutter to make cucumbers and tomatoes into shapes. I then lovingly presented it to the Big Kid:

Big Kid: What's dat?

Ashley: Cucumbers and tomatoes! I made it for you!

Big Kid: No. No. I don't want dat.

Ashley: But why not?

Big Kid: It's all cwazy. No. I said no. Dat is not wight.

Ashley: That's mean, I did this to be nice.

Big Kid: (Slaps at me) I told you no, mudder.

Ashley: TIME OUT YOU BRAT. The little kid can eat the stars.

little kid: (Throws them angrily to the dog and smiles at me defiantly)

After the dog ate it the Big Kid was desperate for some of his own, but see how they treat me? See how I'm totally underappreciated? It's just not right.

So I'm concluding that pre-k went pretty well, although I really know nothing about it other than that tidbit about Art the Dog and that the Jewish teachers write like everyone else. We'll try again Friday.

First Day Eve

Tomorrow the Big Kid gets sent off to The Jews.

Do they wipe butts?
Will they know what he's talking about?
Will he have fun?
Will Miss Sharon be nice?
Can we afford it? (No, not really. At least this I know)

I'm a little nervous. I have packed his lunch (in a creative and fun way even) and have written him a little note and I'm washing his clothes now. I will wake up early and hand him over and then the little kid and I are going on a walk! Without anyone hanging on the stroller or asking 4 million questions.

Why am I walking around S. FL in the middle of August, you ask? The Chawbacons have started a Chaw Chub Club and we're doing a walking & weight loss challenge. You pay $10 for each challenge and the monthly winners get the money. I am uber competitive and I'm going to win.

ARE YOU READING THIS BITCHES? 'cuz I'm about to kick your asses and take your money.

Stay tuned for the First Day update.

(This does mean I can make Jew jokes now, right? For as much as we're paying them, it should be okay.)

Come One, Come All

(Names and locations have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent and the formatting got a little wonky when said changes were made. In real life, it's perfect. Of course.)

This was the invitation to the birthday extravaganza. I had them printed as 5' x 7's and rolled them up, tied them with a curly blue ribbon and put them in an animal cracker box with a clown nose. I was going to put a peanut in there but I forgot to get peanuts and then justified that by thinking of those with peanut allergies.

Then I put a label on front and $1.13 worth of postage. Have I mentioned how much I hate the fucking post office? That's highway robbery right there. For that price they shouldn't have been telling me that the boxes could get crushed.

When it was all said and done, the invites were NOT a bargain at almost $3 a piece, but they generated a lot of excitement. I love doing unique invitations so I think my happiness over them was worth every penny. Mr. Ashley was pretty impressed and didn't bitch about the cost too much. The Big Kid helped me assemble them and told me they were "so cool and weally beyooteedul".

We had the party at a local park. I can't even tell you how much shit I had to haul there. One SUV and one car load. I went over there early and started decorating (by myself, in the scorching heat), but I really needed half an hour more. It all worked out great though. I wanted those flag banners (available at Party City) to go all the way around and I was going to use red and white tablecloths as entrance curtains and drop the balloon bunches into popcorn boxes and I had more pinwheels, but whatever. It looked cute. I had the invitation blown up poster size and displayed it on an antique wooden folding chair with an elephant rocker in front of it.

The red, white and blue buckets I found at Target's $ spot and when the kids arrived I gave them one along with an animal shaped sippy cup (found at Walmart on clearance for 18 cents a piece) full of slushy lemonade and we'd send them to go play. We would then direct the parents to the refreshment table and offer them a margarita flavored snow cone.

Everyone loved the snow cones. We rented the machine and used it from Friday to Sunday. I want to own one. For the Margarita Snow Cones we bought the liquid mix in strawberry and original and poured a little out and poured a little tequila and triple sec in. It was more like a punch, you couldn't taste alcohol at all. We didn't want people getting trashed, it was just for the novelty of it. Besides, the park specifically said "No alcoholic beverages" but neglected to mention snow cones...so we were walking a fine line as it was.

Mr. Ashley's uncle is very dramatic and heavily involved in theater, so when he offered to help we recruited him to be a clown. He joked and played with the kids and acted as a sort of Master of Ceremonies. He did a great job. When everyone had arrived and settled in a little, we had him direct the kids to the games.


We had the Lollipop Tree. I bought mini tootsie pops (from Oriental Trading Company) and colored the bottoms blue or orange and I had two red ones. Then I painstakingly jammed each one into a topiary form I bought from a craft store. I put it in a pot that I wrapped with a popcorn bag and white and yellow ribbons and filled the pot with glass stones to weight it down.

I made the sign by printing the letters out really big, only 3 fit per legal sized page, and cutting them out to put on poster board. Use a glue stick so the paper doesn't wrinkle. I used double sided tape to stick the giant lollipop (that I got at Walgreens 3 for $1) to foam core board.

The kids chose a lollipop and then got to choose two prizes from the bag that corresponded with the dot on their stick. There were only two items in each bag and each bag had the same two items, so no matter what everyone got the same prizes. The kids who got the red dots got a gigantic lollipop. Everyone else got a big lollipop (Oriental Trading Company) and silly putty (2 for .88 at Walmart).



The Lucky Duck game. I got weighted ducks at OTC and once again drew colored dots on them. Pretty much the same concept as the lollipop tree. I was going to use a baby pool, but already had the tub and decided to use it in an attempt to be budget conscious. They won a monkey whistle and a monkey finger puppet from OTC.


The Tattoo Lady. This station was a big hit. The kids loved the temporary tattoos. They also got a slap bracelet for their prize bucket.

Twister Toss. I bought bean bags from OTC and thought I'd make Mr. Ashley paint some sort of thing with a hole in it to throw them threw. I sort of ran out of steam towards the end and remembered my trusty Twister board (Twister Queen of Key Largo 1997, thankyouverymuch) and made do with that. The kids threw the bean bags unti they got one on one of the dots and then they got crayons (bought from a back to school sale for 12 cents) and a kaleidoscope.

I got that display board for $1 from the dollar store, by the way. The dollar store should be your first stop. I got tablecloths, the take out boxes and prizes for the older kids' goodie boxes, display boards, candy, and cutlery there.

Go Fish. This board had fish glued all over it but the little bastards fell off. For this I just took clear cocktail cups and filled them with water and a fish and had the kids throw ping pong balls into them. They won an animal eraser (3 for $1 at Joanns) and Fish in a Bag soap, made by me.


These were a pain in the ass and once again, not budget friendly. If you decide to ever do this project, you'll need more soap than you think. I probably went through almost 8 lbs to make 20 soaps. They were really cute though and the kids were excited about them, so obsessing over each and every one of them and having my kitchen covered with soap for a week was worth it.


The Freak Show. This was definitely one of the highlights of the party. Mr. Ashley made the sign for me because I was sick of cutting things out. I don't have a good photo of it, but he did a great job. He used graffiti style lettering and wrote "World's Strongest Man" and "See the Bearded Lady" underneath. I had clown wigs, hats, dress up clothes, disguise glasses, sunglasses and the strong man bar and a mirror.

The strong man bar was the papier mache craft that traumatized the Big Kid. Honestly, it was more work than it needed to be and about halfway through I realized I should've tied two black balloons to a stick and called it a day. Originally I was going to buy those styrofoam balls but turns out they were like $9 a piece and that was just ridiculous. So I blew up balloons, tore newspaper into strips, dipped them into a flour/water paste and slapped them on there. Each layer had to completely dry before you could apply the next and it needed 3 layers. Then we popped the balloons and stuck the cardboard tube from wrapping paper in the holes, taped them up and papier mached that. PAIN IN THE ASS. Then Mr. Ashley and Mr. LK took it outside to paint it and were out there fucking around until I stomped out there and yelled at them. I do apologize to Mr. LK because he ended up being a great popcorn bag stuffer, but there is no denying the fact that there was screwing around going on and there was no time for screwing around. (They did indeed try to deny screwing around).

For food we had hotdogs, popcorn, peanuts, snow cones, and a veggie tray. Instead of a cake we had popcorn cupcakes:
I had to edit our last name out of the photo. I made the wrapper in photoshop. They will not stick to the cupcake wrappers, you have to glue them into rings and drop the cupcakes into the ring. The topping is miniature marshmallows cut in half and squeezed back together. I suggest that you recruit a very good friend for this project, just don't tell them how much it's going to suck beforehand.


I bought the cupcakes unfrosted and then added the frosting and marshmallows. I lured LK over and gave her some scissors and the opportunity to become a marshmallow cutting master. Cut them lengthwise, squeeze back together and put on top of cupcake. It takes FOREVER and the marshmallows get sticky and gross. Stick the marshmallows in the freezer and go test out the margarita snow cones and take a break when this happens. LK has definitely earned her place in BF heaven by helping with this monotonous task.

I rented a circus calliope CD from the library and had that on in the background, that was a super cute touch and it was FREE!

The goodie bags for the older kids were takeout boxes with a whoopee cushion, Nerds, a string of gumballs, wax bottles with liquid candy inside, a gummy hotdog and a ring pop.

The babies got buckets, alphabet tiles, a biter biscuit, a bath toy and a board book. The preschoolers got the prizes in their buckets.


The boys wore shirts I found from a seller on Etsy



I also did a time capsule for each boy. I found scrapbook paper that looked like popcorn and had guests write messages on that and put them in a popcorn box for each boy. I used popcorn boxes for centerpieces as well. I put floral foam in them and covered it with yellow tissue paper and then used floral picks to secure curled yellow and white ribbon to the foam so it spilled over the sides and top of the box. It looked really cute and luckily I had brought balloon weights for the bottom so they didn't blow away.


We played pin the nose on the clown and everyone got punchballs (those little bastards are CHEATERS) and then everyone just hung out and played.

I'm not sure of the etiquette on publishing photos of your guests online, so I've tried to limit myself to mostly pictures of guests in disguise. Damn the psychos that ruin it for us all!

A great time was had by all! Especially by those with Margarita snow cones. Even the little kid managed to go all day without fussing...it only takes a three ring circus and 50 people to entertain him apparently!

I hope you enjoyed the photos, I did this post how-to style because I have some friends that wanted step by step details and I know people are itching to make their own margarita snow cones. Feel free to steal any ideas and pass them off as your own.

I'm STILL tired from doing all of this shit. When I asked the Big Kid what his favorite part was...he said the monkey bars. Why, oh why, do I bother?

Weekend Update

Well the party was yesterday and let's just say I throw a kick ass party. Because I do. I have so many great pictures to show you all but unfortunately our last name was a big part of the theme. It was a circus party for both boys and a lot of the stuff says "Ashley Bros" on it (but my last name, obviously not my first name). So because of the one or two psychos that are inevitably out there waiting for a good clue so they can easily stalk me, it ruins it for the rest of us. Don't worry, I'll find a way to share but it will be a pain in the ass for me. Thanks psychos.

I just got back from a BBQ with three other couples. The girl crush was there and the hostess is another girl crush I haven't told you all about for fear of you thinking I'm just out of control with the girl crushes. She's super hot though and she's fun and she drinks, so you can hardly blame me. The best part is that all of our husbands got along wonderfully and that can make or break a friendship. Our kids had fun too, I guess. No one was crying or injured so I'd chalk that up to a good day.

Want to be the life of the party? Show up with your own snow cone machine and margaritas mixed for alcoholic snow cones. It'll be a shame to take that puppy back. The margarita snow cones were an essential part of the circus party and were a smashing success again today.

I'll be back later, hopefully with some photos.

Back to Reality

Gosh do I miss you all!! Damn. This whole "Party Extravaganza" thing was super fun to plan and make lists for, but is kind of stressful to pull together. The party is tomorrow and then I am all yours again.

Our trip was awesome, I wish I was still there. The Big Kid and little kid both adore The Renee's herd of kids. The little kid really showed his true colors, now The Renee really knows the extent of his evildoing. Mischievous is the perfect (nice) word to describe him. Her littlest kid had been there two weeks and had not yet discovered the allure of cleaning fluids, the joy of unrolling toilet paper, pulling trash bags out of boxes, playing with grocery bags, getting into the garbage, putting things in electrical sockets, reconfiguring the tv and vcr, playing in the toilet, throwing sand, etc. My little kid opened up a whole new world for him (sorry about that The Renee). The kid just does not play with toys, EVER and is also constantly seeking danger and new ways to make me get up and chase him around.

The Renee and I would sit on the kitchen floor in the morning drinking our coffee and letting the babies play with plastic grocery bags because it was one of the safer activities the little kid enjoyed. He wore me out and had me up every morning at 6:45am, which was slightly more tolerable with an ocean view but not much. I thought for sure that maybe I could borrow the nanny and take a nap at some point but the nanny is a big napper herself and was actually napping IN MY ROOM, right next to the little kid in his crib, when I went in to take a nap after finally getting my kids to sleep. With the tv on. As a matter of fact, every time I'd put him down for a nap she'd find a reason to go in his room and make a bunch of noise, I was about to lose it on her. The Renee and I have determined that she's pretty much useless. The Renee was getting her old nanny back (whom we both love) the day after I left and I'm glad she's getting rid of the skimpy-suited brainless wonder.

We played in the pool a lot and the Big Kid is really doing awesome with his swimming. He was even swimming underwater a bit with no floaties. At one point he jumped out of the pool, ran to the deep end and jumped in, sinking to the bottom like a rock while I was in the shallow end with the little kid in my arms. The Renee's biggest kid was trying to reach in to pull him up by his hair while the brainless wonder stood and watched him drown because she doesn't swim when she has her period. So I got to the deep end, swimming with one arm and trying not to drown the little kid and rescued him while she looked on from her dry poolside area. Fucktard.

I wish I could recreate the look on people's faces when we would tromp into the pool area, with our baby rafts, diving rings, 900 kids, wacky noodles and a stray hanger that The Renee's 3rd kid has an attachment to. People were scared, and they were right to feel that way.

We also lounged on the beach, went down to the nearby pier for a sunset party, went on a nature walk, and walked down the beach to a local restaurant for some Cuban sandwiches and ice cream cones. Some freak there told me my boys had beautiful eyes and asked me to stop by his place (the one with the red van in front of it) to show them to his wife. Um, no. The Renee has now witnessed TWO weirdo confrontations and can vouch that I do nothing to encourage this wackiness.

The most fun was just lounging around the condo. It is amazing to me that I met someone online a little over a year ago and now feel totally comfortable digging through her fridge, laying on her couch, talking for hours on end and not feeling awkward during pauses in the conversation. I'm a lucky girl!

Not so lucky with all the party shit I have to do today. I have NO BUSINESS even talking to you all. I'd post my to do list but I'm scared to even look at it. Heaven help us.

I Am Home

We got home today and I know I've got to update you all. I had a busy night because the Chawlings First Online Birthday Bash was tonight and I had to work on the posters I need for the boys' party. I was all proud of myself for accomplishing so much and admiring one of my lovely signs when I noticed I spelled Tattoo wrong. Two Ts Fucktard. Fuck me. I'm so mad at myself. Of course it is the sign that took me the longest to make. Now I don't know what to do. AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!

I give up, I'm going to bed. I'll be back tomorrow.

Reunited

I had a lovely weekend and I suspect I'm going to have a kick ass week!

Saturday I had the privilege of going to see my friend Katy try on her wedding dress! Katy and I have been bestfriends since we were three. She has met a great guy and I am super excited about their wedding because she's an attention-to-details kind of girl and I love that.

I'm a bridesmaid and get to wear a really pretty dress from JCrew (I'll show you another day, I'm in a hurry), the ceremony is going to be on the beach and the reception will be in her parent's backyard (that I grew up in). It was so exciting to see her dress and how beautiful she was in it! We also did the veil consultation that day and she chose a gorgeous floor length veil. AAAAAAHHHH! I just love stuff like this!! AND I got a couple of kid free hours away from the house AND we had a drink afterwards.

Today I've been very productive. I had to get most of the party stuff done because I'm going to visit The Renee until Wednesday! (!!!) She's vacationing about 3 hours away from here and then going back to her home state and I just can't let her go without seeing her again. And she's staying on the beach, with a view, and a pool, and a jacuzzi, and a nearby pier with live entertainment and fun stuff for kids every night. Woo-hoo. Break out the pimp chalices, we're going to party like soccer moms!

Dat Was Rude

I know, I know I've been letting you all down these last few days. I've been up to my elbows in papier mache and doing other equally crazy crap for this damn party (which I promise I WILL update you on one day).

I thought it would be fun for the Big Kid and I to papier mache together, so I laid everything out and got him all excited about doing a craft and then I showed him how we do it:

Big Kid: Wike dat?
Ashley: Yep, just like this. Put the newspaper in this stuff and then slap it onto the balloon.
Big Kid: But dat is a weally, weally big mess.
Ashley: You can wash your hands.
Big Kid: I don't know. I don't tink dat is a weally gweat idea.
Ashley: Sure it is, it's fun. Who cares if you get dirty?
Big Kid: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! AAAAHHHH! DAT WAS SO RUDE!! YOU ARE SO RUUUUUUUUUDE.
Ashley: Why? What happened?
Big Kid: You got dat dirty stuff on my shorts. It is all over me now.
Ashley: It was one drop.
Big Kid: Dat was rude. You are rude, mudder.
Ashley: I am not rude, Big Kid. It was an accident. I am trying to do something fun with you. FOR YOU.
Big Kid: Now I am going to have to wash these shorts. Did you hear me? I'm going to have to put dem in da dirty clothes.
Ashley: Fine.
Big Kid: And I'm going to have to wash my hands.
Ashley: It didn't touch your hands.
Big Kid: I'm going to wash them anyway. (washes hands, walks into Mr. Ashley's office)
Big Kid: Uh, daddy, do you know what mommy is doing?
Mr. Ashley: Crafts for your party?
Big Kid: She is making a weally big mess. Weally, weally big.
Mr. Ashley: Hmmm
Big Kid: You should see it. In the kitchen. It is so messy, all dis stuff all over da place and she messeded up my davorite shorts.
Mr. Ashley: I'm sure she didn't mean to.
Big Kid: I tink she did mean to. (back in kitchen) You are still doing dese crafts?
Ashley: Yes, Big Kid, all by myself because you won't help me.
Big Kid: You should not do that. You should not touch that stuff, you should not make crafts wike dat.
Ashley: Okay, Niles Crane. Go wash your hands again, for like the 400th time today. Weirdo.

So I have been doing all of this cool stuff for his party and he's just pissed I've messed up the kitchen. This is why we call him Rainman. We call it "quirky" but I'm thinking it may be flat out "Crazy" with a dose of OCD on the side.

Turdsday

We had a lovely day yesterday. We went to the local waterpark, where Big Kid was tortured by all of the slides he couldn't go on because of his short stature. Then we went to my parents' for dinner and I snuck out to go to the hair class.

I'm not sure what I was thinking when I was envisioning the class, or if I really thought much about it at all, but it wasn't what I had pictured. I walked in and there were 20 some people standing there, notebooks in hand. I'm ushered to a chair in the middle of the room, already feeling a little self conscious of all eyes on me, and my hairdresser is doing her spiel on my baby hairs and how it happens a lot to women who have just had a baby and blahblahblah. Then she invites everyone up to come take a look.

Here's where it got surreal. I had 20 people gathered around me so tightly, I couldn't see the room anymore. Just a wall of people. I didn't know where to look or what expression should be on my face. Then they start reaching out and touching my hair, brushing the baby hairs down onto my face, picking up my curls and asking her if she permed it and searching through my full head of hair for what my original color would most likely be. It was like having a gaggle of third world children who had never seen blond hair pawing at me. It was very, very strange.

And they would mutter things like, "Beautiful", "Simply gorgeous" and once again I didn't know what to look at or if I should respond, because they were really talking about her work and not my hair. It was super weird having people scrutinize, touch me and talk about me like I wasn't there. Then she puts the stuff on and as she is washing it off, there they are, gathered around and peering down at me and reaching out to touch my hair some more. W-E-I-R-D.

However, my hair looks great and I now know what an expert my hairdresser is. She was speaking a whole nother language and clearly knew her shit. I guess I'll stop arguing with her about wanting to go blonder every time I see her and start counting my blessings that she knows what she's doing. It all worked out great and I get my next haircolor for free too, so that rocks.

Then I get back to my parents' house and tell my mom how self conscious I was and how they were all staring at me and pawing at my hair and she asks if I've seen my tan lines in the back (I was wearing a halter dress) because they remind her of an article she just read about celebs with horrible tan lines. Gee, thanks so very much for that. She then went to get me the magazine so I could see these atrocious tan lines (that looked very much like my own) for myself. So I guess I should have been more concerned about my back tan than my protruding tummy. Ugh. She then went on to "solve my storage problem" by suggesting I just get a front loader washer and dryer, build a tiled countertop over top of it and do one wall of wood cabinets in my laundry room. Which is a great idea, but about as practical of my idea of building a guest house and just as likely, because we simply can't afford it. Not so helpful.

So today we've spent the day keeping the little kid from so much as looking at the Big Kid's gifts and playing referee during their fights. LK is coming over with her crew because they are without a/c, which is simply unacceptable in this heat. I invited them to spend the night, but she declined. She must have forgotten that KICK ASS two weeks we spent holed up together with no power, a/c or water during Hurricane Wilma. And you probably think that's sarcasm, but we really did have a kick ass time. We grilled sugar cookies, had dance parties, built tent city in the house, had a Twister tournament, broke out the camcorder for some Weather Channel-like journalism of our own and showered in vacant mansions (because the mansions always get their power back first, dammit). Par-tay, par-tay. Damn, that was seriously fun.

Okay, they're here, gotta run, be back later!

Happy Birthday Big Kid!

Dear Big Kid,
4 years ago today, I had the privilege of becoming your mother. My life changed forever that first moment I held you in my arms. You introduced me to this journey called Motherhood. You made the world more important. You changed me as a woman and a person.

You taught me the importance of responsibility, selflessness, courage and patience. With you I gave up my old definition of freedom, my body, my very being, and my heart.

And you gave me the sort of love that can’t be put on paper, a joy that fills my heart and soul, the pride that comes with being your mother, and the fear and anxiety of having one of my purposes in life, a huge piece of my heart, exploring the world and beginning his journey as an independent person (with the reckless, carefree mind of a 4 year old).

You have re-defined “The Small Stuff” that I’m not supposed to Sweat. You have given life a new depth and a new purpose. Thank you for setting me on this path. Thank you for being such a good guide on this journey. I look at your beautiful little face and consider your sweet, intelligent nature and think, “How did I do this?” and am content to know that I have done something right to have such an extraordinary little person as my own.

I like you, I love you, and I’ll always protect you.

Yours Forever,
Mom

It's always a special day with you, Big Kid.

Note to Self:

Self, just because Walmart has ginormous bags of Twizzlers and Nibs on sale for 2 for $2, doesn't mean you have to buy them. Particularly because you are the only one in the house who will eat them and because you will eat one large bag within 24 hours.

Remember that diet you started last Monday? No? I didn't think so. Go put a bathing suit on and look in the mirror, you'll remember and probably even lose your appetite.

Rock Star Reality

So last night I stayed up way too late watching "The Rock Life" on VH1. It features the band Whitestarr, whose lead singer is Cisco Adler, best known for his absolutely hideous ridiculous looking junk and for being Mischa Barton's ex.

Although not one of these guys is attractive, there is something kind of sexy about the group as a whole. Not that I'd touch this with a ten foot pole (eta: WARNING, NOT SUITABLE FOR WORK, OR HUMAN CONSUMPTION). Well, the one with the glasses doesn't make me PIMMAL, I guess. I don't know, maybe I'm turned on by their last names. Cisco Adler is producer Lou Adler's son ($$) and Orbi is Roy Orbison's son ($$). Anyhoo, it's a good show and I will continue watching.

I am also watching The Rock of Love on VH1 where they try to find Brett Michaels (from some hair band, Poison I think) true love. True love that understands he is going to do other chicks and never be around. Lots of substance there. He's always wearing a bandanna or a hat, I'm wondering if there is some receding hairline action going on or if he really thinks it looks cool.

Intellectual viewing at it's finest, my friends. Just thought I'd share.

Technical Difficulties

I may or may not have mentioned that our television set is dying a slow and painful death. The picture is awful and it randomly turns itself off. This started happening about a month ago and our first instinct was to rush right out and buy a new 50" plasma on credit and then we got kind of used to not having television and to actually having the television itself set a time limit on everyone's viewing. Sure, it is annoying in the middle of a good show but if worse comes to worst you just have to run in our bedroom to catch the end. So we decided we would do the fiscally responsible thing and save our money and buy ourselves a television the day after Thanksgiving.

Well now the television doesn't even stay on 10 minutes AND the Big Kid is without internet. I was just thinking maybe Bestbuy.com could overnight me the 50" plasma. Maybe they could even have the Geek Squad drop it off while they fix our household computer problems. There's got to be some sort of 36 month no interest sort of deal, screw getting out of credit card debt at this point.

I just had to have the following conversation:

Big Kid: Mommy, I was watching tree wittle pigs and dey were weading and I wiked it awot and den da t.v. turned off.
Ashley: I'm sorry, the tv is broken. Turn it back on.
Big Kid: I already did dat, wike 4 times.
Ashley: I'm sorry, that's a bummer.
Big Kid: Maybe I could do some special chores and I could get my computer back and all my games back and all dat stuff.
Ashley: Oh, hun, it's not that your games are in time out. The computer doesn't work and I can't fix it. I called a guy today to see if he can help us, but it might cost lots of money.
Big Kid: (Sadly) Den I will have to do a lot of chores. What should I do?
Ashley: You can start with the dishes.
Big Kid: (Starting to cry) It's just that I was such a bad boy and I wost all my pwivwidges and I never ever dot em back. Never ever did. The Big Kid is so sad.
Ashley: No, you did get them back. We just don't have a tv or internet access anymore. I'll help you get started with the dishes.

I feel bad for him. And he's annoying without a television or computer. He just made me recite a bunch of words for him to type into a word document and is changing his desktop wallpaper and all of his icons as I sit here and type this. My poor deprived child with no internet.

Oh My

I have just run across this blog and I'm torn between almost peeing my pants and puking. It is seriously funny, but also seriously inappropriate for work/kids/husbands/pets/humans/vegetables. There are penises (penii?) involved. You've been warned.

I WILL have fun dammit!

Tonight I am going to a play that one of Mr. Ashley's very creative, talented and quirky family members will be performing in.

About twice a year I have an excuse to sit in the elegant theater house downtown and almost always manage to fanagle drinks and appetizers at one of the posh restaurants nearby beforehand.

For some reason, I'm a little apprehensive about the whole thing. I should be longing for a night out, since I haven't had one with Mr. Ashley since pre-little kid (other than the Willie concert, but my parents were there, didn't count), but for some reason all I can think of is how I inevitably get bored at some point during the play and that I feel bad about asking someone else to deal with the Satan Spawn brothers.

This time, I asked LK to watch them since my mom has not been feeling well this week and I know she is well acquainted with the monsters and they're excited to go. I'm also very grateful she's willing to do it, since she was witness to the total insanity that resulted in the spanking, attempted abandonment, and the complete loss of privileges on Wednesday. She was actually offering to spank him for me. That's a good friend.

So they'll be fine, I'll have fun, everything will be just great and I'm not sure why I am dreading it. I will be wearing the dress shown above. It is lower cut than I had suspected when viewing it online so the ta-tas will be out. They don't get out much anymore since they have shamed me by losing their lovely shape and volume. Damn kids have ruined me.

Speaking of these damn kids, the Big Kid is freaking out because his internet connection won't work. He has a wireless antenna thingy (not a card) and his USB port is screwed up, but it has been working fine. Now it is telling me that it cannot assign an IP address. I have googled it, I have messed around with it, I am sick of dealing with it but he keeps coming up to me and telling me he is "just so sad. Just so, so sad." and suggesting that I just need to try again. He just told me maybe if he poops in the potty his computer will love him again. I don't want him to be sad, I want him to be entertained and learning happily on his computer and leaving me alone.

If anyone knows how to solve this problem I will find a way to post audio of him singing a super cute song he learned online AND him and I will both love you forever.

My Freaky "Friend"

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Say Cheese Damnit!

Today we went to FINALLY get our long awaited family portraits done.

Let me begin by saying that the photographer was my engagement and wedding photographer and did a phenomenal (and EXPENSIVE) job. We had one failed attempt at getting pics of both boys a few months ago and this was our re-shoot.

Let me also say that my family looked adorable in our jeans and white button down shirts with the sleeves rolled up and then with my boys in their blue madras shorts (for the Big Kid) and matching overalls (for the little kid) with matching polo shirts, Mr. Ashley in a light blue work shirt and khakis and myself in a pretty darker blue shirt and khaki capris.

Now let me say how highly irritated I was/am about the whole thing. First of all, the a/c was barely on. I bet it was 85 degrees in there. It was so unbelievably hot for my poor family in our jeans and crisp white shirts. I could feel my hair frizzing and I could feel the beads of sweat on my upper lip and I just know I was shiny.

Secondly (and worst of all), her dog was there the whole time. I don't hate dogs (but some people do) but in most situations, I think they have NO PLACE at any kind of work place where they may be (almost always are) a distraction. And a distraction he was. Neither kid could take their eyes off of the dog or it's ball, the ball rolled into several shots, the dog walked into several shots, the dog was busy hitting her in the face with it's tail during several shots, the dog was licking the clean faces of my hot children. At one point she actually had to leave the camera, with all of us sitting in front of it calmly and smiling (one of the few instances, the little kid is no model and spent most of the shoot arching his back, clawing his face and shrieking), to retrieve the ball from under the couch. For Christ's sake, lady.

She then told me she could not put the dog outside because of the lawn crew being present and she couldn't take him back into her house (her studio is another building on her property) because he would cry the whole time.

You know what? I don't give a fuck if he cries. I'm going to cry if these photos don't turn out nicely. The little kid is crying because he wants to roll the ball. The Big Kid is about to cry because I am squeezing his arm and hissing "LOOK AT THE CAMERA" in his ear every time I catch him looking at the dog.

I don't know, between the heat, the sweat, the crying, the stupid fucking dog and the frustration of knowing she is not getting the shots I want, I'm thinking that I may not have been looking my prettiest (although I was when I left my house damn it!)

The photos should be true to life though, the little kid shrieking, the Big Kid disobeying, me hissing through clenched teeth, Mr. Ashley looking tired and perplexed by the unprofessionalism of the situation. It's just not exactly what I was looking for. I was hoping for something that didn't represent us quite so accurately. I wish I could have used the $300 gift certificate to rent her studio for the hour and take my own damn photographs.

So tonight LK and crew are coming over and my house is totally destroyed, even more so than usual because it is Crazy Birthday Party Planning Central. I was making fish in a bag soaps last night for prizes and my kitchen is covered in hardened soap. So the kitchen is dirty but technically clean. Dishes are stacked up, clothes are on the couch, dog hair tumble weeds on the floor. I talked to LK earlier and explained that it was so gross I didn't even want to hang out here and that I would clean it up just enough to get it back to "messy" and call it quits. so she'd best be prepared.

The best kind of friend is one I can be my messy self in front of. After this afternoon, I deserve some relaxation, entertainment and good company (messy house or not).

What To Say

Yesterday was the day from H-E-L-L. Some of it would probably be pretty amusing to you all, but I am too tired/beaten down/traumatized to even recount it in an amusing fashion. Let's just say that the Big Kid got a spanking and was almost abandoned in a parking lot (I even threw his shoes out of the car to him) and he does not have one toy in his room, the computer is on top of the fridge and he is begging me for his "pwivwidges" back.

So I'm not much in the mood for blogging today, but maybe things will improve after I crack open that bottle of Pinot Grigio. I did manage to put dinner in the crockpot, am I the only one that feels wrong handling a whole chicken? Yuck. I feel like a pervert putting my hand in the cavity and I always feel like I'm putting a baby in the crockpot to cook. In an ideal world, I'd be a vegetarian, but I really like to eat meat.

I also have to update you on the insanity that has become the boys' birthday party. Seriously, I'm crazy. Please lock me up. And throw away the key.

P.S. Oh...and the cord on my computer has some sort of problem and it makes my screen flicker constantly. If it wasn't for you all, I would seriously open up my sliding glass door and chuck this piece of shit into the woods while screaming, "ADIOS MOTHER FUCKER!" Seriously, I've been fantasizing about it all day.

Please sir, Can I have another?

I have to go to the dentist soon because one of my teeth is hurting me. First off, let me say that I have no dental insurance and I chose my dentist because of his ability to get me into his office very quickly and because he doesn't make me wait once I'm there and because he seemed nice. Here are a few things I don't like about the bastard:

*He has no concept of "broke". "You can't afford not to take care of your teeth." Well yeah, I get that but since you don't take payments or barter eggs or clay beads, I simply can't produce the currency that you require in order to take care of my teeth.

*He's a condescending ass. "I'm seeing some decay on these front teeth, Mary" (Mary is his 100 year old sweet-as-pie assistant) "Perhaps it is from all that morning sickness she had, Doctor." "No, it's probably because she doesn't floss enough." I can hear you asshole. I'm a human being. You're right though, it probably is because I don't floss enough.

*He treats me like a crack head. I don't get off on Novocaine. I don't know if there is an epidemic of people getting cavities filled in order to get their Novocaine fix, but I can find cheaper and less painful ways to get my swerve on. Numb isn't really my style, frankly. If I ask for more Novocaine, don't get all pissy and tell me I should be numb and don't do your little exaggerated sighing routine as you shoot me up again. I'm not faking this shit. I'm not yelping and jumping out of the chair to irritate you. I agree, two Novocaine shots should do it, I apparently have some sort of tolerance to the shit.

*I swear he only got into dentistry so he could have a captive audience. I am all for good conversationalists, HOWEVER, I am a little sick of hearing how fucking great this guy is. What a great dentist he is, how he graduated in the top of his class, how he owned a restaurant in Spain, the kid he saved from the locked car in the parking lot, the dogs he saved from the locked van in the parking lot (dangerous Dobermans at that), how he stitched his friend's head up in the Bahamas and then they went surfing (last time I checked, not much surf there). I get it. You're smart. You've lived a privileged life. You are a fucking hero. Now how about some more Novocaine?

*His total unwillingness to prescribe pain killers. Honestly, I don't even like pain killers. God, being the sneaky jokester that he is, has made sure that I get horrible vertigo and nausea if I even look at anything in a prescription bottle. Me, drug loving me, only took Motrin after giving birth both times. However, he doesn't prescribe it because "good dentistry doesn't hurt." Like hell it doesn't. I'm sorry, any time any one is drilling into your head, it is going to hurt, especially if you're a bitch about providing Novocaine. Mr. Ashley had some wisdom teeth pulled and he ABSOLUTELY deserved something stronger than Tylenol III.

So, you now have some insight as to why I'm totally dreading my next visit and why I put things off until they hurt. Which just makes him shake his head and tell Mary about how you can't help people, they have to help themselves and that's what is so hard about dentistry. He gives these lectures with my mouth stuck open and stuffed full of cotton, so I'm unable to defend myself. There is no excuse for tooth neglect though, so it's probably best that I don't even try.

I need a new dentist, I just don't want to pay for the whole "new patient consultation" scam. My hairdresser has a dentist that gives gas for cleanings. I think that is good incentive to get your teeth cleaned and he may be (read: is definitely) worth the extra money.