Dear Amy Winehouse,

You scare me. Like, a lot. A lot, a lot.

There's Fun Crazy and then there is Scary, Crazy crazy and you are definitely option B.

I am all for the rock and roll lifestyle. Sex, drugs and rock and roll...hell yeah! HOWEVER, at some point you have to go to sleep. Eat a sandwich. Wash your old eye make up off. Drag a comb through that snarled rat's nest you call hair.

It will be okay. Night will fall again. There will be more parties. Until then, lay in bed, smoke a joint, eat some macaroni and cheese, watch some reruns. Lather, rinse, repeat. Take a little break from the hard stuff and you'll catch a better buzz next time.

At least try to tone it down to a Lindsay Lohan-like level. You know, pretend to go to rehab and still drink too much and snort a little coke socially.

At the very, very least...keep it indoors. No more photos of you crawling around your yard at 5am. You're becoming the female version of Pete Doherty. It's not cool. What's he even famous for other than being Kate Moss' druggie boyfriend? No one even remembers.

You also need a front tooth. I don't care what kind of trashy, rockabilly look you are going for. Toothless is simply unacceptable. Period. Furthermore, that husband of yours....LO-SER. Man oh man. He's just yucky.

Anyhoo, just some advice from Ashley. Take it or leave it. I'm just trying to help.

Yours Truly,
Ashley

LMAO

at the following comment, left in regards to the Duggar post:

I think that is tacky and judgmental, personally.

Who cares if they want to have 30 kids? Just because you wouldn't do it, doesn't make it WRONG.
First, when on Earth did I claim not to be tacky or judgmental? Hell-ooo, the words fuck and weiner gobbler are in the actual introduction to my website. I'd bet my baby that you found me through the parenting forum where my signature is my weiner gobbler business card and the words "don't click here if you're easily offended".

(I'd even go so far as to guess that you're one of the scrapbookers that are ticked because I pointed out that your friend can't sue a glue company because their bottle says washable and yet the gobs of it that a two year old smeared in his hair aren't coming out. You are a scrappy little group.)

As far as being judgmental goes, I have a theory that everyone is judgmental to an extent and if they deny it, they're lying or unaware. It's human nature and animal instinct to perceive differences in others and change your opinion of them or behavior around them accordingly. A friend of mine and I have a long running debate going about this and whether or not being judgmental of someone or having a negative opinion of someone are the same thing. So yeah, I'm judgmental. Even tacky most of the time. So sue me.

I do want to state for the record that in a debate, I always take the Duggars side. It comes up ALL THE TIME on Babycenter and I say as long as they can afford them and provide for them, rock on with their bad selves. Do I personally think it is INSANE to have a million kids (somewhere between 16-18 these days I think)? Hell yes I do. Do I think it's a little selfish even? Yes, I do. That oldest child has probably never even spent a full year without his mom being pregnant or having a newborn in the house. Do I think vaginas should be clown cars? No, generally I don't.

Whatever though. It affects me 0%. I'm impressed. They've got their shit together. Maybe they'll take my two. I do think she needs to go on extreme makeover and lose the mullet but it would be tacky and judgmental of me to say so. ;-)

I just wanted to clear up any confusion regarding my feelings for Michelle Duggar. I hold her and her poor tired va-jay-jay in the highest esteem and wish I was even 2% as on top of things as she is. As I type this, little kid is sitting on top of the side table throwing small toys into the Christmas tree. Yeah, I probably don't need one more kid. Actually, if I could get a couple of older kids, I could make this work. Set up a buddy system. Spend more time on the couch. Yes, Yes, I do need more kids. Some older ones.

Edited to add: Yeah, my Christmas tree is STILL up. Talk about tacky.

Mrs. Duggar

Yesterday

It was 56 degrees here. Damn near freezing! People had scarves on. Everyone broke out their skinny jeans and furry boots. I got to wear my new cashmere sweater! There's something about wearing a $200 sweater with $29 jeans bought 3 years ago that keep sliding down my butt and shoes from Payless, but whatever.

So LK and I took the brats to Chick-Fil-A (oh how I love thee) and Joann's (because I never did learn my lesson about taking groups of kids to craft stores) and had a nice afternoon out. At Chick-Fil-A we saw a brand new, itty bitty, red, wrinkled, fuzzy, squinty eyed newborn. Awwwww. It's amazing how my heart flip flops for those ugly, fussy little people who emit foul liquids from every orifice.

Lately, it seems that everyone I know is pregnant. Well, everyone I know online. And Renee's live in nanny (who may or may not be illegal, depending on how you look at it). I know some "real" people who just had new babies too. Of course as the mother of a 16 month old, who hangs out with other mothers of 16 month olds, I'm around a lot of conversations about trying to conceive and pregnancy announcements.

As absolutely PSYCHOTIC as it is, this makes me want another baby. Blech. I know, I don't even really like kids that much and I don't want a whole bunch of people living with me, even if they are people that I made. I know it is total insanity and that if I actually got a positive pregnancy test right now I would probably cry and scream at Mr. Ashley for doing this to me once realization settled in.

Even so, last month I sort of thought I was pregnant (although that was 100% impossible. It would have been the next immaculate conception, which would have been pretty cool) and was a little disappointed to discover I definitely was not (even though I knew I really couldn't be). Sometimes lately just for fun, I look at Mr. Ashley and say, "Let's have another baby!" and he laughs and shakes his head. Thank God he does, because in general our conception process goes like this:

One of us: Hey, wouldn't it be fun to have a baby?
The Other: Oh, that would be fun!
One of us: Really? Oh let's!
The Other: Okay! Yeah!

20 sweaty minutes later

One of us: You know, I've been thinking. Maybe right now isn't the best time to have a baby.
The Other: Yeah, I know. I was thinking the same thing. Let's wait until ____.
One of us: Yeah, that's a good idea.
The Other: One time probably won't take. We're probably fine. We just won't do that again.
One of us: Yeah, I agree.

and 10 months later, along comes a kid.

Mr. Ashley knows that this is just my crazy hormones talking. That there is just something in a woman's body when her youngest baby enters toddlerhood that makes her forget that getting that baby there was more or less a total nightmare, and tricks her body into thinking she needs another one.

This is when I worry for those women that are going to have as many babies as God tells them to have. No offense, but if my hormones are dictated by God, then he really wants me to eat a ridiculous and unhealthy amount of chocolate. He also makes me act like a total crazy bitch sometimes.

Also, I see where the undereducated welfare abusers go wrong. Aside from the physical miseries, it's kind of fun to be pregnant. The attention and the excitement and the interesting-ness of it all. Then you have a new, sweet, snuggly little person everyone likes to ooh and aah over and all kinds of tiny, cute new stuff. Next thing you know, you've got 7 kids by 7 daddies and you can't afford daycare and people are saying you should be sterilized.

Anyway, I don't know if I'm going to have another kid or not. The plan was always two, but the plan was always 1 boy and 1 girl and little kid screwed that one up. I really want a girl. My entire life I was just certain I would be the mom of a girl. I love tutus and dance recitals and baby dolls and bikinis and dresses and all of that jazz. I have known her name since I was 12 (Bailey, after my grandfather) and can completely picture a curly headed, munchkin faced crossbreed of me and Mr. Ashley. So stinking cute. He really wants a girl too.

However, there is that pesky problem of that 50% chance that this imagined 3rd child would have a penis. Actually the more I think about it, I can completely picture myself as the mom to a herd of boys. I've always been a guy's girl (not a slut either) and I love the dirty, silly, tough but vulnerable thing that makes boys boys (and I'm not talking about penises either).

So to prepare myself for this possibility, I try to imagine 3 boys and although the thought exhausts me and I'm not even sure where we'd put another one, I think I could handle it. Maybe. That could just be the hormones talking. Or the fact that I've come up with a name I love. As with little kid, I've informed Mr. Ashley that if the imagined child is a boy, I get to name him whatever I want as a consolation prize. I told him little kid's name when I was pregnant with Big Kid and it took him that long to warm up to it. I fought him on the middle name up until delivery (I won).

So if I have a 3rd boy he will be....Cash Alexander. I love it. I know some people will hate it and that's okay. I'm aware that it sounds like the name of a drug dealer's child. I know people will roll their eyes when they hear it. But when he's a gorgeous successful grown up (because I make Exceptional children, otherwise I wouldn't even consider a third), it will suit him perfectly. Besides, when people ask him who to make the check out to, he can say "My friends call me Cash."

So I pretty much just want to use the name. Good reason to have a 3rd huh? I love baby names.

The other day on the boat though, I had both boys in my lap, Big Kid tucked under one arm with the towel over his head (as usual) and little kid laying in the other arm with no towel touching him (as usual), sucking on my arm as he slept, and I felt content with the thought of having two and giving up on a Bailey or a Cash and just embracing the idea of having one for each arm. My two fun boys who I already know and love. Become the ultimate soccer mom and enjoying less drama and a more reasonable clothing budget as a result.

Besides, that would mean I could get a boob job sooner and be the head bitch in charge around here forever, with no competition. I could also get to that gorgeous, tan and toned, rock hard size 2 body I deserve a lot faster. I wouldn't be outnumbered or have more toys to pick up or one more loud mouth to listen to.

Who knows what I'll do. I really do love those names. I think we've come right back around to me needing a bigger house and a nanny. Isn't that the answer to everything? Maybe I could just get an illegal pregnant nanny and pretend her baby is mine when I want to? And make her name it what I want? I think that is The Renee's plan, but don't tell her that I told you that.

Weight Loss Solution

So while reviewing my weight loss goals for 2008, I realized that I really just need to grow 3-4 inches. I'm 5'3, if I was 5'7/5'8, I'd be smokin' hot and it would be easier to find pants that fit right.

I'm tired of putting "Lose weight" on my resolutions list every year. Instead, I will amend my outline to include "Grow 4 inches" for 2008 and I'll break this vicious cycle.

Edited to add: How funny is it that I did the math wrong? This is SO ME. I freaking hate math and it hates me too. I guess I need to grow 4-5 inches to get the results I was looking for. That doesn't seem as do-able. Damn.

'Splain Please

Why, oh why, do toy manufacturers make toy packaging capable of surviving nuclear warfare?

As someone who has opened about 9 trillion toy packages in the last week or so, I can assure you that they all do it. Little People's Noah's Ark takes the cake though. I counted 18 of those twist tie wire things and don't even get me started on the labyrinth of cardboard. That sucker would indeed make it through a flood. Does each piece need to be attached to the boat AND to the box? Did Noah need to be secured horizontally and vertically? Geez Louise people.

I have to accomplish this impossible task of untwisting these twisty ties and ripping through thick cardboard while I have a toddler jibbering loudly and impatiently and pulling at the toys and with a 4 year old breathing down my neck, because although he chose this toy as a gift for his little brother, he really just wanted to get his hands on it himself. I talked him out of a science set, a telescope and a drum set and was suspicious when he decided on the Little People set, since he is a big fan of Little People himself, but he was adamant that this was what he was going to get his "bubba" because he knew he would "wuv" it. They've been fighting over it ever since I freed it from the confines of it's cardboard and twisty tie prison.

I don't know if I told you all or not but Big Kid did indeed get me a book about Penguins. He insisted it be from the children's section and could not be swayed by fictional books or illustrated books. "Dat's not what I was tinking. I had sumtin else in mind," he would say about anything Mr. Ashley would suggest. They finally enlisted an employee for help and he found the perfect book. A nonfiction children's book about penguins.

Then he decided that he knew what little kid wanted to get me and guess what that was?? A dolphin book! Much to his dismay, they couldn't find a suitable dolphin book and had to settle for a book about Dolphins & Whales. When I expressed my excitement over Dolphins AND Whales he instantly became sad and told me whales were not what he had in mind and I should ignore the whales. Because little kid didn't want to get me a book about whales, just about dolphins. Yay me, huh?

He got Mr. Ashley a shower radio so they can listen to the radio while showering. little kid got him a keychain that beeps if you whistle for it, but Big Kid's squeaky voice sets it off, so we're going to have to get rid of that thing.

While we're discussing Christmas loot can I point out the clear link between toy manufacturers and battery companies? There's got to be a referral fee or some sort of kickback because I REALLY don't see why the SmartCycle should run on batteries. Of course Big Kid left his on and instantly ran the batteries down and D batteries are hard to come by around these parts.

And I discovered this last year, but shame on V-tech for not including a power adapter with their video game console. Gee...pay $10 for the power cord or pay $10 to put new batteries in it every month? What video game console doesn't come with a power cord? That's just an obvious rip-off right there.

I'm also tired of battery covers for toys needing to be taken off with a screwdriver. Isn't there a better way to child-proof these things? It's just too much work.

I spent today trying to assimilate all of the new Christmas loot into our environment. The amount of stuff we have is just overwhelming. Mr. Ashley thinks we need to get rid of some things but I think we just need a bigger house. It's a good thing I have pages of lists dedicated to organization in my new software program. Now if I could just get around to doing any of it...

I hope you all had a great New Year holiday. I love the hopefulness of a New Year!