Thursday, March 31, 2011


I just realized that tomorrow is April Fool's day. I don't think Big Kid realizes either, so I've got to get him in the morning.

I jokingly suggested that we tell them we're going on a surprise trip to Disney World and then drop them off at school instead. It would be hilarious--until Big Kid murdered us in our sleep that night. He would have a complete mental breakdown over some unnecessary cruelty like that and he would definitely never get over it.

It would be funny though.

I can't believe it caught me by surprise like this. Last year I got them good with the meatloaf cupcakes but this year I've got nothing. What the heck can I do?

Wednesday, March 30, 2011


I have really bad insomnia right now and that combined with not feeling well made it so I hardly slept at all last night.

I was exhausted after dropping Big Kid off so I turned the television on in our bedroom, told little kid to sit and watch it quietly and pulled my comforter over my head so I could try to snooze for 30 minutes before starting the day. Just as I started to get in that comfy spot between being awake and asleep, I heard, "Mudder?"

"Nooooo," I whispered, afraid to wake myself up. "Not unless it's an emergency. Sick."

"Is an emergency, momma."

"No." I felt little fingers prying the comforter away from me.

"Mooooooom. I need you to wake up. I got's an emergency!" little kid said as he removed the covers. "You's awake? Awake now?"

"Yes! Yes I am!"

"Okay, the question is--what's I gots to ask you does the Easter Bunny get the eggs out of the fridge if he doesn't gots no hands?"

God. Seriously?

"Very carefully." I answered. I then got up to go to the bathroom for the 400th time since midnight and came back to find him in my spot in bed.

"Can you get out of my spot, please?"

"I can't believe you. I'm just wantin' to snuggle my mudder and she doesn't want to!"

"No, we can snuggle, I'm just asking you not to wiggle into my spot every time I get out of bed. You know I like having my pillow, please just move over."

"Fine! Fine, we won't snuggle. Does that make you happy? Not to snuggle me? I'll just lay all the way over here, way away from your spot so you don't have to snuggle me. Okay?"


"How mean. It's just mean."

"You're welcome to come lie next to me."

"No no. I might get in your spot. Can't have people gettin' in your spot, not even your baybay who wants to snuggle you."

"I'm in my spot now. You can lie next to me and snuggle."



Ten minutes later he walked back in the room. "Can't believe you don't want to snuggle your own baybay. I don't know what your problem is today."

"I'm sick? And you're harassing me over silly things?"

"Oh yeah, okay. A mudder not wantin' to snuggle her baybay is not silly!"

"That's not what happened. Come snuggle me."

"No. I don't want to snuggle with people who are mean to me. Like you."


"See? That's mean."

I'm ready to give him my spot and go sleep in the car.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Tone Deaf

little kid still calls me princess a lot of the time. Sometimes he jazzes it up and calls me Princess Peach or Princess Araya (that's what he calls Princess Leia). "My sweet princess mommy," is heartwarming and endearing and I love this whole princess thing the majority of the time.

(What girl wouldn't?)

But some of the time, he comes across as rude and condescending; "Now listen up, princess," he'll tell me, speaking all slow and sassy, as I try to correct his behavior. (He always has an explanation or some negotiation to do--homeboy might end up being a politician or a lawyer. Not the good kind.)

"little kid, don't you talk to me like that!"

"Like what? I always call you princess."

"Yeah, but you know what I mean. I don't like your tone."

"I don't know tones, princess, I'm a 4-year-older."

He knows tone. I know he knows tone.

And he better watch his.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Theory of Rain

"When it's rainin', that's God pourin' buckets of water on us alls," little kid announced the other day.

"No. No, that's not true at all. What happens is that sunshine absorbs the moisture on the earth and takes it back up into the sky where the drops all get together and make clouds, then when the clouds get too heavy it rains and the water goes back to the earth. It's like, evaporation and precipitation and stuff. A cycle." Big Kid explained.

I was impressed.

"No! Noooo! It's God, God does the buckets! Water doesn't go back UP into the sky, Big Kid. Have you ever seen water go back UP into the sky? Water comes down. It's God's buckets makes the rain go down." little kid insisted in a very Rush Limbaugh-like fashion.

"Yeah, you can't see evaporation. It's not like rain drops, it is like particles of water. Teensy tiny." Big Kid clarified.

"WRONG! You's wrong, brudder. You's know nothin', you so wrong. Mom! Moooooooom! Mo-om! Tell Big Kid that rain is God pourin' buckets of water out on us and waters don't go up into a sky!"

"Well, actually Big Kid is right. And he explained it really well. Better than I could have." little kid looked irritated.

"How does he knows that? Why don't I know that?" little kid asked.

"I've been studying science for, like, years. I'm in second grade, dude."

"Mudder, will I learn 'bout participations in kindygarden? What if they forgets to teach me? What if the teatsers teach everybody but me about the water going back up?"

I assured him that his teachers wouldn't forget to teach him.

But I doubt they'll teach it as succinctly as Big Kid could.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Heaven and...

"I can't wait to go to heaven because Heidi Louise is there!" said little kid from the backseat. I don't even know if he was old enough to really remember our old dog (he was 2) but he frequently mentions how he cannot wait to see her again in heaven.

"Yep," I answered. I don't really love this line of conversation, although the sentiment is sweet. It makes me too sad.

"In heaven I knowed that they had a birfday party for Dr. Seuss. Because he died but it was his birfday and he's in heaven now! I knowed they have birfdays in heaven because it's such a nice, fun place."

"Yes, I'm sure he is celebrated even in heaven."

"So when I get to heaven will I meet Ben Franklin?" asked Big Kid, a big Ben Franklin fan.

"Yes, I imagine so."

"What about Theodore Roosevelt?" He knows that Teddy Roosevelt was a total bad ass, that boy listens to me.

"Of course."

"What about Adam and Eve?" little kid asked. "Will I meet them in heaven?"

"Mmmm hmmm."

"I don't know, mom. Would they go to heaven? They broke the rule and messed everything up for everyone else," Big Kid pointed out. I was thinking that this was an interesting philosophical question when he added, "They might be in Haiti."


"They's not in Haiti, brudder! They's in heaven!"

"Why would they be in Haiti, Big Kid?" I asked, wondering what Big Kid has heard about Haiti.

"I don't like using that other H-word and I thought Haiti was another word for it."

"Hades! You mean Hades from Greek mythology," I clarified, wondering how the hell he knew about Hades.

"Whew. I been feelin' really bad for people from Haiti. So, where are Adam and Eve?"

"They's in heaven, bro. God loves you even if you're bad," little kid answered.

I'm glad we cleared all of that up.

Reading List

I've been back on a real reading kick lately, I love my nook. This is unfortunately expensive because e-books are a big, fat rip-off and the pricing ticks me off but I do love the portability, convenience and wide selection. I think I'm going to have to go back to real books with the occasional e-book because e-book publishers can't figure out that I would buy 5 $5 books a month but will only buy one $13 book a month. I also object to the way library licensing and e-book lending is handled.

Whatever though, this wasn't intended to be a rant about the publishing industry (but screw you, stupid publishing industry!). Here are my extremely summarized book reviews:

Room: I really liked this book--until I got to the third quarter of it. It's a short novel and I think that contributed to its pacing problems. It was a fantastic book, until it fell a little flat. Worth reading though.

Sarah's Key: I don't know why everyone liked this book so much. Great idea for a story, shoddy one-dimensional characters. It was good, I didn't regret reading it but I don't know why it was so celebrated.

Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet: This was enjoyable. I liked reading it, but could easily put it down. It was fine; very sweet.

Same Kind of Different as Me: I would have never read this book if I fully understood what it was going to be about. I dislike spiritual books, I dislike anything about cancer, I dislike emotional memoirs, I dislike anything that leaves me open to feeling emotionally manipulated. But this book really moved me; I thought this was a phenomenal book...and then I got to the end and figured out it had all been a true story? (This isn't a secret, just something I hadn't noticed.) Totally profound, well-written, thought-provoking, touching and full of wisdom. I am so glad I read this book.

Tiger, Tiger: A Memoir: This is a memoir about a girl who had a 15 year relationship with a pedophile, starting when she was 8. It is incredibly disturbing, especially since it's true, but she is a fantastic writer with a unique perspective. Totally bizarre life and again, disturbing (obviously!) but she has an amazing way with words. I hope she goes on to write fiction, she is brilliantly talented.

American Psycho: This is the worst book ever. In the history of writing. There is not one good thing about this book: it is not well-written, it is not clever, it is not interesting or fun to read, its gratuitous violence isn't entertaining in any way--if you like gory crime books, you probably still won't like this book because it was stupid and it sucked. It was annoying, it lacked a plot and it was a total waste of time. I HATED this book. I can't emphasize that enough. Don't even bother picking it up to see why I hated it. (You're welcome.)

Right now I'm reading The Alchemist and I really like it; it's very inspirational and motivating. Next, I think I'll probably read Nefertiti because I'm in the mood for some historical fiction and I like Egyptians (and I'll probably buy it full price from Barnes and Noble like a sucker.)

Have you read anything good lately?

Monday, March 21, 2011

Jump on 3

It's Spring Break and we're Spring Breakin' it!

We went to a city pool with friends today. The boys were delighted to see diving boards there; I was a little apprehensive about it. Within moments they lined up for the small diving board. Big Kid got about halfway down the plank, turned to look at me, and froze.

"You can do this!" I shouted from the sidelines.

"I...don't know," he said, looking back at the line behind him nervously.

"The only way off is to jump. Walk to the end, keep your arms down by your side, and say '1...2...3' and jump on 3. It's no biggie."

He hesitated, looking toward the end of the board and back to me. "Potential injuries?" he asked.

"Almost none," I replied, attempting to stifle my laughing. The lifeguard and my friend (Em's mom) were also attempting to contain themselves.

"Just keep your arms and legs pointing down! Jump like a pencil!" Em's mom shouted.

He briskly walked the length of the board, counted to 3....and jumped. He lined up and did it over and over again.

Soon he stood before me, wet and dripping on the hot pavement. "Mom, I want to do the high dive." His eyes were bright and shiny, his cheeks pink, he was excited about this idea.

"Oh. Really?" I remembered the high dive from where Catfish and I took swimming lessons when we were children. It was impossibly high. Em's mom reminded me that it was probably just as high as this one but when you're little, that feels impossibly high. I remember getting to the top and wanting to go down but not wanting to jump. The pressure to do so and the resultant belly flop that was as bad or worse than the humiliation of begging to go back down still stings. I got the hang of it eventually but as an adult it's hard to see the point of putting yourself through that.

"Yes, really," he said with certainty.

"Okay. There's no turning back once you get up there. The lifeguard said that, you have to jump if you go. It will seem high--like, really high. But you can go if you want...but if you don't want, that's cool too." Please don't want, please don't want, please don't want, my heart hoped.

I wanted to tell him not to do this. I didn't want to watch him try to do this.

"I'm doing it."

He turned and climbed the ladder as I analyzed the kids in line behind him; bigger kids, rough-looking kids that might be mean when/if he insisted on coming back down. He got to the top, walked calmly down the plank, and jumped on 3. Successfully and without hesitation. Without even having to analyze potential injuries first. And he was fine. Better than fine.

I am so proud, and so glad that we don't always listen to my heart.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Labor of Love

"Mom? I've been thinkin' about what kind of girl I'm gonna marry," Big Kid said in a serious voice a couple of weeks ago.

"Oh yeah? What kind of girl are you going to marry?"

"I don't know, that's what I been wonderin'. Like, what things will she like? What will she like to do? I've been wonderin' things like that."

"Hmmm. Well, you'll have to marry a girl that likes things that you like and that has the sort of qualities and good things you would want to have in a wife."

"But what kind of things? That's what I can't figure out--what kind of things do you think?"

"Well, I hope she likes to read and enjoys spending time with her mother-in-law," I advised him.

"Oh yes, reading is a good one! You know in the olden days it wasn't even cool for girls to read? Because girls should just, like, cook and stuff. But I'd want a girl that likes to read--and cook! Are you the mother-in-law?"

"Yep. She better love your mother!"  We laughed (but I'm serious.)

"But you know what, mom? I've also been thinkin' 'bout havin' babies."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah...and I don't think I want to look down there when the baby comes out, you know?"

"Oh. Huh. Uh--it's all very exciting at the time. You'll be okay. You'll be excited to see your baby that's been growing in her belly, it's really pretty neat."

He grimaced.

" know how...babies get out? I wasn't sure if we really covered that or if you heard that in school or...if you have any questions.....?" I asked, wishing I didn't feel obligated to.

"Well one day you said that doctors help get them out and sometimes cut the mom's belly to get them out."

"Oh, yes! Yep. That happens." I thanked the sweet baby Jesus that we were talking about c-sections.

And yes, I do believe in honesty as often as possible but there was no way in hell I was breaking the news of natural delivery to Big Kid. He's 7 years old and freaking out about his hypothetical wife having a c-section, can you even imagine if he knew the whole truth?? I'd never have grandkids. Yeah, no. We'll cover the details later. If we have to.

"I don't want to hurt my wife's feelings, but I really don't want to look down there. Even if it's exciting, you know? 'Cuz I'll see the baby later, like right after."

"Yeah. I think that's probably okay. You can just look in her eyes and tell her what a great job she's doing until they bring the baby out. And maybe buy her jewelry!"

"That's a good idea. They clean the baby off pretty quickly, right? I'll look at her instead and I'll get her some jewelry."

We were both relieved, for entirely different reasons.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Life and Links

Good news. I survived through the night. My sleep schedule is now completely screwed up because I was awake all night contemplating gouging out my own eyeballs with a grapefruit spoon to relieve the headache pressure, but today I seemed better.

(So it's a good thing I left my eyes alone.)

I'm trying to post more frequently again but can't always guarantee quality AND quantity. Today's a quantity kind of post. So here's some fun links because that's all I've got for you right now:

Rock, Paper, Scissors: You vs. Computer
Please use me (I love typewriters, by the way.)
Old school parenting: AKA when kids weren't pussies.
Jersey Shore review: Dead on. But I still watch every single week.
A very good Banksy and a museum exhibit with his work
I heart John Stamos: And embarrassingly enough, Charlie Sheen too (but in a different way).
Movie Barcodes: Every frame of a movie compressed so you can see it's palette (yeah, I don't know why I think it's so cool but I do.)
Romantic: In a weird, creepy way.
Think of the children: LOL
Right brain, left brain: Makes me want to buy a Mercedes! Not really, but a good-looking ad (and I wanted a Mercedes anyway.)
7 Deadly rings: I want lust and wrath (along with the Mercedes).
Time capsule mansion: I know I've mentioned this place before but here are some additional photos.
A Mother's Journey: This photo series really moved me. Warning, it's sad.

Enjoy! Or think I'm weird because I enjoy weird things. Whatever!

Tuesday, March 15, 2011


I have had a migraine for 2 full days. It ranges from complete "Someone please do me a favor and split my skull open with an ax" agony to a more mild "This hurts really fucking bad and I'm sick of it." If I had health insurance, I would've been in the E.R. this morning because I was 87% positive I was having an aneurysm. I've talked myself down from that thought, but am still conjuring up ways to inject Excedrine for Migraines intravenously and I completely understand why people in ancient times practiced trepanation; drilling a hole in my head to relieve the pressure really seems like a logical course of action. Evil spirits may be at fault and if they want out, who am I to stand in their way? And it can't hurt worse than it already does, so why not?

But kids and dogs don't give a fuck about other people's migraines, so life goes on. I have gotten no mercy at the hands of those who love me so loyally. People still need drinks and an ever-present audience. People need to exercise their right to shriek for no real reason or speak in a yell at all times. People still need volunteers. People have parties to attend. People actually seem to sense my weakness and misbehave accordingly. little kid tried to pull the "I will go underwater and pretend I can't hear you as you ask to me to get out" trick at the nerd herd's end of the year pool party today and I pulled the "I will lean out into the pool and pull you in by the tuft of hair I can reach while nobody is watching" maneuver in return. No regrets, either; he totally deserved it.

It was a little soon for the nerd herd reunion party, even if I didn't have to organize it. Some time to miss them first would have been nice. I will say that the other moms involved are super nice, easy to talk to and enjoyable to be around but they are also so wealthy that it's like they live on another planet; it can be difficult when they invite me to $85 per class pilates sessions or suggest I buy a membership to the beach club because it's a really good deal. One of them recommended a resort for our anniversary and when I got home to look it up, it was $995 A NIGHT, on sale. I can't spend $995 on the whole weekend trip! It makes it hard to relate--and I'm jealous. Totally jealous.

They bought me a beautiful wine glass with my initials and black and pink polka dots along with a bottle of wine but little kid broke the wine glass before I got home. It was a really nice thought though.

So this is a whiny, petty post. If my head explodes into a million pieces tonight (as I suspect it might) I will regret that this was my last entry to you all. But what-the-heck ever. Have my memorial service at that swanky $995 a night resort, you all deserve it.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Accidents Happen

Today Big Kid came home and sadly reported that some kid in his class said he was annoying and that he knew 1000 people who didn't like him.

I proved to him that this simply was not true by listing everyone in his class who clearly likes him and offered some advice if this child says anything like this again. (Ignore him completely, tell the kid to mind his own business or the always efficient "Whatever", and if all else fails, tell the teacher). He thanked me for the advice and seemed to feel better.

However, I cannot stop thinking about how awful it would be if I accidentally tripped and elbowed this kid in the face tomorrow while volunteering. I would feel really bad if I lost my balance and gave him a black eye. Really, really, terrible. It's not this kid's fault that he's rude and annoying, and adults can't go around elbowing kids in the face for being rude and annoying.

Unless it's an accident.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

God's Plan

"God made everything. Every thing everywhere," little kid said. He's a serious Christian. He loves God and he loves Jesus and Bible stories and he talks about those things frequently. The rest of us aren't as well-versed or faithful. I've been thinking I'm going to have to start attending church just so he can continue to have this once he leaves his preschool (because it wouldn't be cool to drop him off on Sundays, right?).

"No! That is not true, little kid. Human beings invented some things. A lot of things, actually," Big Kid retorted.

"MO-OM! Mom! Moooom! Is that true? Is what Big Kid said is true? God invented all of the things everywhere, right? Because that's what I knowed. I knowed that He did."

"Well, hmmm. People believe He inspired or helped create everything everywhere. Like, God didn't invent cars but He put the right people in the right places with the right ideas at the right time so that cars could be invented because it would change the world in a good way; that God has a plan and things will work out the way He thinks they should."

"So are you saying God inspired the dumb comments people leave under Youtube videos?" Big Kid asked in disbelief.

It's a good question. If any one place summarizes everything wrong with the world, it's probably the comments section of Youtube videos.

"Um. Well. He also gave everyone free will so that they could make their own choices, so I guess He made the Youtube comments possible by allowing people the ability and choice to say those things."

"Well...I kind of wish He hadn't. Maybe there are some things people shouldn't get to choose."

He's got a point. I don't know if Youtube comments would be on my short list of things God should stop people from doing, but maybe it should be.

3 Things

I have had the same three things on my to do list since last Thursday. Occasionally I'll add another item or two so I'll have some things to check off, but I just can't get myself to do these other three things. They aren't even difficult or tedious things--it would take me less than an hour and I've spent at least that much time seeing them on the list, thinking about doing them or making a plan to do them later.

A few minutes ago I was like, "I'm going to go do those three things! That will feel good!" and then I decided, "I'm going to go blog about how much I don't feel like doing those three things and how long I've spent putting it off," which wasn't a good step towards accomplishing these things.

These things could be done tomorrow. There's no deadline really. Monday would even work. Maybe I could do one of these things today and one tomorrow and one Monday (because I don't do things on the weekend).

I did just download a new book and reading is more important than things, right?

The Proposal

"Mommy, will you go on a date with me?" little kid asked me last night.

"A date?!? Where are you going to take me?"

"To Mexico."

"Mexico? Really? That would be the best date I've ever been on. Wow. You're a good dater." He looked a little nervous that I was so excited about the idea.

"Yeah. It's gonna be when I'm older though. When I'm growed up and I have a nice wife."

"When you're married? Well, you'd better ask your wife first then. She might not want you to go on a date to Mexico with your mom," I informed him.

"I'm not askin' her anything, I'm gonna be bigger than she is. I'm doin' what I want whens I'm growed up!"

"Yeah. Good luck with that. I will go to Mexico with you, though."

A few minutes later he approached me again. "Momma?"


"I was thinkin' and...well, I think you should take me to Mexico. While I'm a kid. Because I'm your kid and the growed ups take the kids on vacation."

"Some date! I have to take you to Mexico?? I don't know about that."

"How 'bout I buy the hotel for you?"

It's a decent offer and I told him I would consider it.

The other night Mr. Ashley and I took him out on a "date" because Big Kid had dinner plans with the Stalker and little kid was heartbroken not to be invited. After dinner I patted his leg and said, "I'm having such a nice date night tonight!"

"Does this mean you'll marry me?" he asked in a serious tone.

"little kid! I cannot marry you! I am your mother, you can't marry your mom and trust me, some day you won't want to. And did you really just propose to me in front of my husband? What about your poor dad?"

"I just wish you weren't married 'cuz I want to marry you," he said sadly.

"Well...thank you. But no matter what, we could not and would not get married. I love you but mommies love their babies in a different way. You'll find a nice wife one day," I promised.

But I am flattered that he asked.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Just Go

The Stalker (aka neighbor kid) has declared that our guest bathroom is too disgusting for him to pee in. I cleaned that bathroom top to bottom this morning (with a scrub brush and bleach and everything--not my normal quick  wipe-down).

Upon closer inspection, there were 2 tiny pee splatters inside the rim once you lifted the seat, something little kid most likely did after I cleaned.


He wouldn't even go after I wiped down and disinfected the seat. Homeboy is in Kindergarten, spending half the freaking week at my home which he frequently says isn't as nice as his, and now he's criticizing my cleaning work? I know he's going to go home and report to his mother that our bathroom was too disgusting to be used and I can only imagine what type of scene she'll imagine would prompt a response like that.

I wish I could have said, "The bathroom's not dirty--you're just a wuss."

(Because it's true.)

Monday, March 7, 2011

Bed Time Aversion Tactics

About 30 minutes after bed time, like every night, little kid trekked into my room.

"little kid, what are you doing?!?" I asked.

"The 'zact same thing I do every night," he said with a laugh. He ran over to my side of the bed.

"And what exactly is that?" I asked.

"You know how I do. Just give me a kiss, princess."

I gave him a kiss and sternly said, "GO TO BED, LITTLE KID. No more kisses after bed time if this continues."

So imagine my surprise when I heard a joyful giggle from the kitchen area a couple of hours later. I sent Mr. Ashley out to investigate and apparently little kid was standing in the middle of our kitchen, peeing on the rug and laughing.

Mr. Ashley said his name which startled him and it was then that he realized he wasn't in the bathroom. He must have (might have?) been sleep-walking.

Unfortunately, we laughed so hard about it that I'm afraid he may add peeing on the kitchen floor to his after bed time routine.

And that doesn't work for me.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Alpha Neighbor part deuce

So, this morning while getting the kids ready for school, I got a text message from Mr. Ashley that said, "I took care of the Dog Whisperer."

This sounded ominous. Wondering if I was about to find a pile of bodies at the foot of the driveway, I decided the kids could be late if need be and called him back right away.

I guess as he was getting in the car for work she popped up and said, "Oh, hi! How are you? I was hoping you could help me straighten something out. I, uh, left something in your yard and I think your wife picked it up. I just--well, uh, when I walk my dogs, and they defecate, um, I put it in the bag and then I fling it across the street. I think your wife picked up the bag and she doesn't have to do that. I don't want her doing that."

"....she doesn't like poop in the yard."

"Well, yeah, but I'm coming back for it. I was going to pick it up."

"Yeah. She doesn't like poop in the yard."

"Well, she doesn't have to pick up the bag. Don't you guys have dogs?"


"I mean, I'm coming right back for it."

"She doesn't like poop in the yard."

At this point she looked completely perplexed and clearly thought I was the unreasonable one, even though she's the one admittedly FLINGING SHIT ACROSS OUR STREET INTO MY YARD. My god. To even use the words "defecate" and "fling" in the same sentence, you're instantly wrong. There is nothing right about that.

"Oh. Okaaaaay. Well....have a good day." And that was that. So I guess maybe it's over but now we're both confused and annoyed with each other.

And you know what? If on our first encounter she had smiled sheepishly and said, "Mind if I leave this here for 2 minutes while I finish walking around the block? I promise I'll pick it up!" I probably would have thought it was a weird request, but would have most likely laughed and said, "Oh, sure. No problem!" and meant it. It's the presumptuousness of flinging crap into someone's yard that I'm not okay with.

I also now see why she appeared to be walking back up my driveway to deliver the poop the first time--she must not have had the balls to fling it while I was watching and walked it across the street to my house. Freak.

This better conclude all poop-throwing stories. If I ever find poop in a bag in my yard again, I'm going to beat her about the head with it.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Alpha Neighbor part deux

I got home from dropping little kid off (a not even 10 minute journey) to find a bag of dog poop in my yard.

At first I was pissed. Then I was worried. I had let the dogs out for a few minutes right before leaving to take little kid--could one of them possibly have pooped in someone else's yard? Murphy is on a long leash type thing and can't reach the property lines. Lily goes to the bathroom in the exact same spot every time, never leaves our yard and was right at the door waiting to come in so I didn't think so, but maybe?

I sat here freaking out about it and feeling terrible. No matter what, one of our neighbors clearly must hate us to be leaving bags of poop in our yard. I briefly thought of the Alpha Neighbor but I haven't seen her lately. She changed her like-clockwork walking times so our paths don't cross; I took this as an admission that she was wrong to use my yard as a dog poop depository. I felt triumphant about that situation and have been commending myself for calling her out on it and resolving it quickly.

I decided to take a shower and as soon as I was naked and all oiled up, water running, I heard a knock on the door. I chose to ignore it and then thought that it may be the new poop-leaver and that I better figure out who it was so that I could go to their house and apologize profusely. I peeked through the blinds and see Alpha Neighbor's two fat, furry dogs waddling around my yard.

What the hell is this woman's problem? Okay, so you somehow don't know that people may not want you to leave bags of dog shit in their yard, even temporarily. Once someone TELLS you not to leave bags of dog shit in their yard, even temporarily, YOU STOP DOING IT. Leave it in someone else's yard if you must. I know she did it because she didn't think I was home and this pisses me off even more. I live on a heavily populated street, there is not one good reason that I should be the dog poo drop off station. I cannot figure out what her problem is.

I wasn't about to towel off and get dressed to hear her explanation or apology or whatever she wanted, so I ignored her.

I have no idea what to do about this lady, though. I'm seriously considering running one of her dogs over next time I'm driving and see them out sashaying around the neighborhood--I don't know how else to get my message through to her since shouting it across our neighborhood (and plain old common sense) doesn't seem to work.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011


Today is the last nerd herd meeting.

Last week was supposed to be the last nerd herd meeting but they did TERRIBLY and tonight is their dress rehearsal with Saturday being their final performance. My co-coach convinced me that they had to have one more practice, and it had to be at my house. I agree that they needed another practice, notsomuch at my house.

I don't care if they get up on stage and completely mortify themselves tonight at rehearsal--I WILL NOT, CAN NOT do this even one more time. Not even not at my house. I.Am.Done. I cannot say this emphatically enough...I AM DONE.

The county coordinator tried to assure me that it's like having a baby and you forget all of the trouble and want to do it again.

Well, you know what?

I remember having babies, I think it is a complete and total pain in the ass and I never want to do it again.

Same goes for coaching kids.

I don't care if they give a Broadway-worthy performance on Saturday. I will give them each a hug, sprint to my car, lock the doors and drive away as quickly as possible. I may also change my cell phone number and have to get a new Facebook page.

Because I am done forever.