Welcome to Snarkfest

Welcome to my snarky corner of the web. Join me as I discuss everything from wine to chocolate. There may be a few other topics mixed in there too. I talk a bunch about my amazing offspring, 24 and 21. I sometimes go on and on about my secret crush on the amazing Mike Rowe. I talk about things that irritate me or things that make me happy. Sometimes I just talk to hear myself talk. Feedback is always appreciated but please make sure it's respectable. No nudity or profanity. I'm the only one allowed to be profane. But any and all snark is welcome and appreciated!

Sunday, December 30, 2012

Getting back my mojo

After posting yesterday's blog, I actually, almost, for a teeny tiny moment began to feel like I was almost sorta getting motivated to start blogging again. Not one to lose the momentum, I banged out a post for The Epistolarians, which I promise I will link to once it's up on the site. I was feeling so good at that point! I checked my email (because I seem to live on the internets) and found a request from Courtney over at Chewylicious asking for guest blog posts. Feeling like this could only help in my sluggishness, I emailed her back that I'd love to guest post for her. She's such a sweetheart and she's dealing with the same sluggishness this holiday season as I am, so I typed out my third blog post in as many hours. You can read my guest post on Courtney's Chewylicious site here. Then stick around to check out her site, she blogs about photography, crocheting, food and life in general.

Saturday, December 29, 2012

Lazy slugs unite!!

I've been such a freaking SLUG lately!! No offense to slugs but DAYUM I don't feel like doing a friggin' thing. Seriously. I believe that in the past week I've put on about 79 lbs. No lie. Eat, drink, be merry, repeat. That's been my mantra. Have I run even one time? No sir I have not. I worked exactly one and one half days  this past week. When I wasn't working I was either eating or sleeping. Or farting around on FB. Truly. Santa must've taken all my willpower and all my motivation with him when he dropped off our gifts.

Dear Barbara I'm lazy! Lucky for me I already own a gym membership, so I won't be buying one to begin a New Year's resolution. I WILL, however, be heading to the gym with all the other resolutioners who got fat during the past week (year) like me.  Starting Wednesday. I mean really, Sunday I could start running but I'd undo any good when I eat, drink, be merry and repeat on Monday. And besides, my gym is closed on Tuesday. And we've finally had snow here so the canal will be snowy and muddy and way too dangerous to go for a run on, what with all the leaves and the roots and the snow and mud. 

So yes, I am the epitome of lazy ass. But on the plus side (?) I've been spending oodles of quality time with my kids. It's been awesome (?). We've watched TV like nobody's business! And eat! Oh my goodness we've been eating like champions!! We could take gold at the Olympics if eating and watching TV were actual events. We'd be the United States Lazy Ass Eating and Watching TV Team!! USA! USA!

I can honestly say I'm really looking forward to Wednesday when the girls go back to school and I go back to a normal routine. Gym, work, run around picking up girls from practices, dinner, FB, sleep, repeat.  There really is something to be said for routine. It's so....routine, but yet so awesome. Everyone is where they're supposed to be, everyone is relatively productive and I'm not in the house all day surrounded by cookies, pies, cakes and other delightful, delicious temptations that just keep jumping into my mouth! It's crazy! Come on, I can't be the only person in the world who has sugar cookies hurl themselves into my mouth every time I walk by them, can I?? 

I am? 


Dear Santa, 
Please bring my willpower, my motivation and my size 8 body back soon.

Monday, December 24, 2012

Merry Christmas!

To all the Snarkfesters out there, I hope you have a wonderful Christmas. Thanks for reading. 

Merry Christmas!

My Favorite Things!!!

So the lovely, warm and wonderful Jenn over at Jenn's Blogspot ran a contest where the winner received a bunch of Jenn's favorite things. Lucky for me, I won AND her favorite things are also MY favorite things too!! So without further ado, I present to you my booty (not THAT booty, get your snarky minds out of the gutter), the loot that I won in this awesome contest. 13 can be seen helping me open my gifts (while 15 was in the shower for an hour and change).

The goods, before we dug in!
13 helping. She loves to help. 
13 wondering what she'll be able to use.
MMMMMMMM coffee!!
Holiday wine charms!!!
MMMMMMM again!!! LOVE me some chocolate!!!
A coffee mug personalized with Jenn's beautiful face!
Mug from the back. Smoochies to you, Jenn!
Jenn's favorite things, and what a coincidence, they're all my favorite things too!
So in the spirit of Christmas, I raise my beautiful wine glass from A Beaded Whim, and fill it with a nice Shiraz, and I toast to you, Jenn and to your generosity. And I toast to you, my snarky friends, I hope you have a wonderful holiday season!

Thanks Jenn, you rock!!

Thursday, December 20, 2012

My Snarky Wish List

So the lovely and talented Joules from Pocketful of Joules kindly tagged me in the writing prompt that's going around called My Christmas Wish List. But since I've never been one for hearts and flowers and flying unicorns riding rainbows and shitting glitter, I'm putting my own twist on the whole thing. Hopefully she'll still be talking to me after she reads it.

If I could wish for 5 things for Christmas, you know they'd be for things you KNOW you want but would never ask for. So in no particular order here they are.

WISH #1 For the love of all that is holy, I'm BEGGING for this weekend to be extended by about 5 days. I want Sunday to be a 120 hour day. That's all I'll really need to get my shit together before Christmas Day. For those of you who normally received cards from me? Yeah, those would be sitting on my morning room table. The envelopes are all written out. No return address labels. No stamps. No pretty cards, personalized to you. Nope, just got as far as the envelopes.  So Merry Christmas, you'll get your cards about 362 days early for NEXT Christmas. You're welcome.

WISH #2 I am going to bed tonight with the hopes that when I wake up tomorrow, wonderful, kind and thoughtful burglars will have entered my house and instead of STEALING things, they declutter my house, silently vacuum my filthy carpets, mop my horrendous floors, dust off all of my furniture, baseboards, countertops and shelves (without sneezing, good luck with that). I'm sure it's an odd request but it's more interesting that wishing for a maid. Plus I can't afford a maid so if they're burglars, and they actually DO clean my house, they'll deserve whatever it is that they end up stealing.

WISH #3 I am going to bed tonight with the hopes that when I wake up tomorrow, my entire family will have learned how to do an actual load of laundry from start to finish. I know, I know, it's crazy. It's totally unrealistic to think that a grown man and two teenage daughters would be able to understand the concept of wash...dry....fold....put away. The wash and dry part, we're golden with that. But those last two steps? Nope, we got nothing. Blank stare. Drool. Fold? What is this fold of which you speak? Put away? You mean, like, NOT on our floor?? You mean, NOT piled on the guest bed? YES family, that's EXACTLY what I mean. Away!! Into those big rectangular things we have that you pull out and put stuff in and push back in. Those are called DRAWERS and while it's a LOVELY idea to store all your school shit and unmatched socks in there, that's actually NOT what they're there for. So let's work on that, shall we?

WISH #4 Is it too much to ask that delicious food magically become healthy and healthy food become fattening? You may ask "Teri, have you been drinking??" No, I say! I want freshly baked chocolate chip cookies to be high in Vitamin C, D, B12 and niacin (whatever the hell that is) and for lima beans to put weight on your ass and thighs!!! Why can't chocolate cake have more good stuff other than antioxidants?? Why can't chocolate cake be GOOD for you and NOT make your ass bigger?? Why must celery, broccoli and artichokes be the healthy choice??? Can't I just, for like, a month, eat anything I want, no matter how high in calories, fat, cholesterol, etc and NOT worry about the goddamn scale?? Seriously, it's not like I'm asking for a new Lexus in the damn driveway on Christmas morning!! I just want to be able to eat what I want. Hey, it's my wish, dammit.

WISH #5 Here's the serious portion of the blog, so if you've gotten a good laugh, I'm happy, and here's the sappy portion. Deal with it. I know that you have to take the good with the bad, and if nothing bad ever happened, we couldn't ever really appreciate the good. But seriously? Does the bad always have to be so fucking BAD?? Really??? Cancer? Children losing their parents? School shootings?? Parents losing their babies?? Why can't the worst bad things be, like, flat tires when you're running late? Why can't bad be stopping up the toilet in the morning? Why does bad have to be DEVASTATING?? So just for one year, for 2013, I wish for good. I wish for a year full of happy. No pain, no killing of babies, no cancer, no sadness. I PROMISE I'll appreciate the good, I'll thrill at the positive. I will love what I have been given and not long for more. I will cherish and hold dear those close to me. Hell, I'll even give up being snarky if it means a year without pain and suffering for others.

What's your wish? Now, I've been informed that this is pretty much a chain thing so I have to tap 5 other bloggers. Those bloggers are in NO WAY obligated to carry this through. Christ, it's December 20, who the hell has TIME for this stuff? But I'll do my part, just in case my wishes, any of them, could come true if I pass this on. So tag, you're it:

Evil Joy - UPDATE: Read Joy's here
Somewhat Sane Mom
My Mom's a Whackjob  - UPDATE: Read Joules' here
You're My Favorite Today  - UPDATE: Read Michelle's here
Paige Kellerman - There's More Where That Came From
                                             UPDATE: Read Paige's here

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Cancer. It Sucks. A Lot.

I absolutely hate cancer. Okay, okay, I know nobody really likes it. But seriously, cancer is a fucking bitch. Cancer is sneaky. It sneaks in and takes. It takes and takes. Cancer does not discriminate. Cancer takes young and cancer takes old. Cancer takes black, white, red, green, purple and yellow. Cancer takes friends and neighbors without even saying 'sorry'. You can fight cancer and some people, some amazing and wonderfully lucky people, beat that bitch. I worked with a lady in Atlantic City named Annie who successfully beat breast cancer twice. I also lost a close friend to cancer after she won the battle twice. She even told me, she wasn't feeling so lucky the third time around. And she was right. Cancer took her. Cancer left her daughters without a mother and her husband alone to raise those girls on his own.

We are lucky enough to have an amazing man in our lives, 12's Godfather Bill, who was lucky enough to receive a heart transplant some years ago. We have been lucky enough to know this man, and even luckier that we've been given an extension of our time with him. Yet, cancer decided that it would step in and fuck things up. He's been diagnosed with a malignant mass in his intestine. His heart is definitely strong enough to withstand the surgery to remove it, but sadly, his lungs are not. So he gets to play on the chemo-go-round. Lucky him. My best friend from grade school and high school just went through this awful bitch with her husband, whom I love dearly, who always makes me laugh. And he beat it but not without a price. He suffered from neuropathy due to excessive radiation. So he didn't get off scott-free. My friend Lisa has a brother who is currently going through chemo and we're hoping for the best for him. Too many lives touched.

I've had best friends lose loved ones to cancer, I've worked with countless fantastic people in Atlantic City who were taken from us by cancer. I've made some unbelievably wonderful friendships online and suffered with them as they lost their loved ones to this awful disease. And now there is a neighbor who has been hit with this fucking sickness. The father to one of my daughter's best friends, the husband of one of my own dear friends, and it has hit like a Mack truck. He's not 'lucky' enough to ride the chemo-go-round, the disease is too far gone. So now he is at home with his family around him, and they wait for this bitch to take him from them. And I am angry. I'm so angry I could scream. And saddened at this loss. He is funny, very funny, a very quick wit, and I always enjoyed our conversations. And his big black dog Riley will miss him. And that's not fair. Cancer's not fair.

So this blog is for you Howard. I dedicate this blog to you, with the hope that your passing will not be painful to you, but knowing that it will be very painful to all who know you. And I also dedicate it to Monica, who was in my wedding, and I in hers. And to Peggy. And to Jim and Annie who overcame it. And to Bill who is fighting it to the finish. I love you, I love all of you. And I hate cancer.

Please feel free to tell me who YOU'D dedicate this to. Who have you lost? And what would you tell them, if you had one more chance?

UPDATED: My friend and neighbor Howard passed away this afternoon. He will be sadly missed by all who knew him. 

Sunday, December 9, 2012

She Corked My C**k

Did you ever have one of those evenings where absolutely everything that comes out of someone's mouth is absolutely the perfect opportunity to release your inner snark? Tonight was one of those nights. I had dinner with some old friends and some new friends. After dinner, we headed back to my neighbor's house to play cards. Some of us drank whiskey sours, some of us drank wine, and we corked a cock.

Let me explain. My neighbor Lynn went into town to do some shopping before we met for dinner. She found this lovely metal chicken which, she explained, was to hold corks from wine bottles. My neighbor drinks exactly one whiskey sour per month. Girlfriend doesn't even drink wine, yet she felt compelled to buy this chicken so that in case she ever DOES open a bottle of wine, she'll have someplace to store all the corks. But she's my friend and I love her so I'm totally behind whatever decisions she makes, no matter how senseless they are.

But as luck would have it, one of the ladies at the table did drink some white wine and therefore there was a cork, and guess where that cork went! If you guessed 'In the Cock' you'd be right!! That's right, Lynn's cock was corked. And it was beautiful. What was even more perfect was when Lynn said 'she put her cork in my chicken' which begged the response 'she corked your cock??'

I had no idea just how close to perfect that statement was. You see, upon closer examination of said chicken, you can see something deliciously ironic. Here is the chicken from the front. Looks like a chicken, right?

Cork holdin' cock. See, there's already one in his tummy.
However, when I first saw the funky fowl, I was looking at him from behind. This was what I saw when I first saw the cork holder:
Look closely at the chicken's head. No really, look closer.

Are you seeing it? When I pointed it out to the other ladies, I was so pleased that they didn't look at me like I had 352 heads (that's the look I get when I tell my kids that they have to clean up their mess). I was thrilled that they saw exactly what I was seeing. A cock that holds corks. You simply stick the cork in the cock's butt.

As if this wasn't enough to make us all giggle like middle school kids, if you look at the counter up there in the first picture, you'll see a duck wearing a santa hat. This duck belongs to a set of three. Sadly, one of the duck's heads is broken off. When I asked Lynn how it happened, she said she accidentally grabbed him by the neck and it broke. My immediate response was that she 'choked her chicken'. I'm guessing it's a good thing our middle school aged children weren't there, or they'd have rolled their eyes so hard a chicken would probably die somewhere.

Good times and lots of Snark on a Saturday night. Jealous?

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Shopping with the Snarkfest Family

I took my friend Sio shopping last night. Sadly, we were also joined by 15 & 13 who, as you well know, have NO nice clothes to wear. Poor things. What kind of a mother am I that I consciously send my kids to school in sackcloth and ash? Burlap bags on their feet, dirty faces. They look like something out of Les Miserables, no? Poor pumpkins.
OMG I can't believe we have, like, no nice clothes to wear!
As usual, I digress. So we headed over to Kohls where all the cool kids go for clothes. Specifically, Sio and I were looking for dresses to wear to the local Rotary Ball tomorrow night. Yes, Cinderella, it's a ball. My first ball, and I needed something pretty to wear, just in case Prince Charming is there and wants to sweep me off my size 8 wides and take me to his palace on the beach of Maui. Oh, did I digress again? Sorry. We dropped 15 & 13 off in Juniors and headed over to find dresses for ourselves. Unsuccessfully. I DID, however, find some Spanx. Spanx rocks, my friend. ROCKS out LOUD!! If you haven't already done so, please go check out Frugalista's video tutorial on Spanx (after you finish reading this, of course). It's hysterical and she is AWESOME.

Dammit there's that digressing thing again! Focus, Snarkfest, focus!!

So I got my Spanks and a cute little shrug to wear over my go-to little black dress, and Sio got a lovely dress shirt for her hubby (at least HE'LL have something to wear to the ball) and we went on a store-wide quest to find my teens. They were right where we left them, in Juniors, still trying to decide, an hour later, on what they wanted to get. Each girl has to dress up on game days for their respective basketball games. They were given specific instructions. One outfit. ONE. Said outfit could be one top and one bottom, or one dress. Period. The end. 13 found a really cute cream colored dress, which coincidentally, is too short for her school standards because she is her father's daughter. She's 5'5" I think, which to me is tall. So of course she'll need tights. Or something. And 15 found a pretty top and a rubber band which she'll pretend is a skirt. It's like homecoming shopping all over again. That girl is 5'9" in flat shoes. Which, by the way, she is lacking. Shoes that is. Poor thing has no shoes that she could POSSIBLY wear with this top and rubber band pretend skirt. At that point, we schlepped over to the shoe section of Kohls and went on a 'Quest for cute shoes in a size 11'. 15's feet are smaller than 13's feet, so we can at least attempt to find shoes at Kohls that could fit 15. Sad to say, 13's feet are a women's 12. She's my little baby Sasquatch (a nickname she loves OH SO MUCH hates with a passion) and I believe I have to travel far and wide across the lands to find shoes that fit her. DSW and Nordstrom Rack have both been suggested to me. But sadly, there are no DSW's or Nordstrom Racks anywhere close by.  Sad face.

Stay with me here, I'm almost finished!

While we didn't even bother to look for size 12's for 13, she did try on this lovely red hat and managed to look absolutely adorable in the process:
13: "I'm so, like, rocking this hat! Wait, is it on backwards?"

And while we WERE in the shoe section, just for shits and giggles, 15 tried on a pair of high heeled boots which made her appear approximately 9 and a half feet tall. Especially when standing next to both Sio and myself, who are both under 5'2". I now present to you, my 15 year old daughter in her basketball practice shorts, cross country hoodie and a rocking pair of  heeled sexy black boots:

Think coach'll let me play in these?
After walking away from her and giving her the 'We're leaving in 2 minutes with or without you' speech, she headed back to the gigantic box from which the gigantic heels came and I pointed out the one other pair of shoes I saw in her size. Cute, flat brown boots. Poor 13. I fear that child will be wearing mens sneakers for the rest of her life. She'll be walking down the aisle in a pair of Reebok cross trainers. White, of course.

Anyway, after puttering around Kohls for far too long, we meandered up to the registers and, being the high maintenance shopper that I am, had to give the cashier a hard time. As the victim of repeated attempts at identity theft, I now have passwords on all of my credit cards. So when I go to Kohls, every single time I try to use my charge card, they have to call customer service and I have to get on the phone and give them my password in order for the sale to go through. Pain in the ass? You betcha. So we are at the cashier desk for a minimum of 15 minutes. By this time, I'm thinking Sio is mentally putting her house on the market and moving far away from me and my needy, crazy offspring. And I can't say that I blame her.

What started out as two friends going shopping for dresses turned into a scavenger hunt from hell. Sorry Sio. Maybe we'll try it again when my kids have graduated?

Monday, December 3, 2012

Ungrateful 15

Let me tell you a little story about my oldest child. I love her like no one I've ever loved with the exception of her sister. I am more proud of her than you can ever begin to imagine. She is the light of my life, the cream in my coffee, the jelly to my peanut butter. But tonight, I was ready to put her up for sale to the highest bidder. Look up ungrateful in the dictionary, you will find 15's picture.

Let me elaborate. It all started this morning at 6:05 when I woke her ass up the first time. Then continued at 6:10, 6:15 and 6:20 when I went back up to get her up again (and again and again). She finally dragged her ass into the shower at 6:35. Naturally, at 7:00 when the bus came (and went) she wasn't on it.  And naturally, being the idiot sucker kindhearted mom that I am, I drove her (again). Ask me how many times she    missed the bus last week. Go ahead, ask.

Fast forward to this evening. At 7:00 I arrived at her high school to pick her up from basketball practice and headed to the middle school to her sister's basketball game. IMMEDIATELY upon entering the car, she informs me that they have to dress up for tomorrow's basketball game in Virginia, and that she has NO nice dressy clothes to wear, so would I PLEASE take her to Kohls and buy her some nice new dressy clothes. Yes, she's asking me to blow off her sister's basketball game to take her to buy new clothes because the poor thing has no nice things to wear. "She'll have like, 14000 other games, it's okay if you miss this one." The answer was no. I'm not taking her to buy her anything new when I know for a fact that she's got tons of nice clothes in her room. They're just buried under all the shit that's on her floor. Oh yeah, and did I mention she missed the bus AGAIN?? Yeah, maybe had she MADE the bus this morning I'd be a little more willing to drive her to Kohls and buy her pretty things But dammit, she didn't and she just thinks it's my obligation to do as she wishes. I know damn well she's got nice dressy black pants in that mess she calls a room. She also has several pretty sweaters and blouses and camis she can wear with them. But no, because she can't find them, she doesn't have them so I MUST take her shopping.

Then, while we're sitting at her sister's game, the husband asked me what my plan is for tomorrow. I explained that I'll pick 13 up from practice and then head to the band booster meeting at the high school. 15 perks up and says "You're not coming to MY game??? You can't miss 13's game but you can miss MY game???" Well, let me just calmly explain that I'll be attending the first band booster meeting I've been able to attend in 3 months. Ask me why I've missed the last 3 months. Well, I'll tell you. Because I was busy working in the concession stand at high school JV football games and soccer games. Now, let me clarify something for those who think, 'wow, what an awful mom, she can miss the older daughter's games but not the younger??' I am a member of the band boosters organization for the high school marching band, an organization to which 15 belongs. And when I miss a band booster meeting because I'm working concessions, it's because every time I work in the concession stand, I earn money for 15's band account, which means she gets to go on trips and events and it doesn't cost much money out of pocket. So I'm not just blowing off her game, as I believe she thinks, but I'm trying to catch up on what I've missed over the past 3 months.

Since we arrived home from 13's game I have been confronted with nothing but attitude, nastiness and disrespect. I left to run to the grocery store and when I came back, I did receive an apology, which I accepted, but I did NOT forgive. And now she is uploading stuff onto her iPod for the bus trip to her game tomorrow and is out of money on her iTunes, so she's asking if she can use the money on my account and pay me back (in quarters). Really???

Why is it that she is only nice and kind to me when she wants something from me? Why does she think that I am here for her to walk on and treat like shit? I have become a doormat for my 15 year old daughter. And apparently, I've allowed it to happen. Well, no more.

How do you handle disrespectful offspring? How many of my fellow moms or dads have allowed themselves to become doormats? What does YOUR doormat say? Mine must say "Tread on me".

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

I Broke a Promise, But I'm Thankful

Taking a break from being a snarky bitch for a day (don't worry, I'll be back to my old self soon) to confess something to you all. Remember when I said I was going to call my mom everyday like I used to when I lived in Jersey? Remember I wrote that here? Well, I broke that promise. And I'm ashamed. I talked with Mom today, after a 2 week silence, and she called me out on it. Busy isn't really a good excuse. It's a shitty excuse and I should be ashamed, no, I AM ashamed that I use that as an excuse not to call and touch base with my Mom.

So Mom, I know you'll never read this because you don't have a computer and you are scared to death of them, but I called you this afternoon and told you, and now I'm putting it here for all 4 of you Snarkfest fans to read. I will make time to call you. I will call you at least twice a week, you have my word. And you 4 Snarkfest followers (you know who you are Aunt Irene, old neighbor Anna May, that creepy guy in line at Blockbuster I met 23 years ago and Henry (my dog) who I know can read, I am counting on you to keep me honest. Check up on me. Keep me in line. Ask me when the last time was that I called my Mom.

Now onto the Thankful. My nazicrackhorunningbitch partner Lisa finished her JFK 50 mile run in style last Saturday. Here she is crossing the finish line. That's all of us screaming for her so you may want to turn down your sound a little, but don't turn it off. You'll want to hear the announcer say her name just after she crossed:

Notice that guy at he very end who pops his head up from the lower right hand corner. Lisa and I cracked up when we saw his little head come into the frame.

Anyway, when Lisa knew that I was having a hard day today, feeling the guilt about not being in touch with my mom, she texted me while I was running. Here's what the text said:

Remember this is Thanksgiving, so be thankful that you have a mom alive to give you shit :)

And she's exactly right. I lost my Dad 2 years ago and while we weren't as close as we could have been, I miss him every day. And knowing that my Mom IS still here to give me shit makes me thankful. And thankful too, for friends like Lisa to kick my ass when I need a good ass kicking. And for her tenacity and persistence for putting her mind to it and, despite all the odds and obstacles stacked against her, finishing the JFK 50 Miler. Lisa, I'm so proud of you and thankful to have you in my life.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

I'm sure you've all heard by now

So unless you live under a very large rock, you've been made aware that Channing Tatum has been named as People's Sexiest Man Alive. And would you look at that! OMG! They're like, totally over! The Biebs is officially on the market again. How funny would it be if one of my daughters married the Bieb? Because seriously, if they hyphenated, their last name would be Biebel-Bieber. I'm not making this up. 15 Biebel-Bieber. They could have little baby Biebel-Biebers. Like Bobbie Biebel-Bieber, Barbie Biebel-Bieber, Benny Biebel-Bieber Billy Biebel-Bieber. Oh I could go on and on but you get the idea.

In other news, basketball season is starting for 15 and 13. I was selected by the team moms to be the mouthpiece against this hideous new logo our AD wanted to use for the teams' sweats. Now, for a boy, this is totally fine. Butch, tough, mean, etc. But for the girls team? Is this a Lady Cardinal to you:
Try looking at this without singing the Farmers Insurance jingle.
We are Cardinals, bum ba-dum bum bum-bum-bum

So I had some calls to make last night to some parents. One had no voicemail and there was no answer. Oh well. Too bad, so sad. Until my phone rang at 1:00 this morning and it was from that same number. Really? Really you're going to call me back at 1:00 because you didn't recognize the number???  Now granted, I wasn't actually AWAKE for the call. I saw that I missed it when I came downstairs this morning. But wow. Just, wow.

I'm pleased to say that I am the winner of the Thankful Giving Blogger Roundup Giveaway! Imagine my surprise when I saw my name as the winner!!! What did I win, you ask?? Well I'll tell you. $200 cash money! Not only that but I also will receive a new cookbook (BEFORE it's released to the public, as well as an apron for when I'm making recipes from that cookbook). There is also a surprise gift, which I can only assume will be Channing Tatum showing up at my house to cook me breakfast, wearing my new apron. And nothing more. Watch that bacon splatter, Chan honey. So anyway I really want to take a moment to thank all of the bloggers who put this giveaway together because now I've got a little extra cash for Christmas shopping. I know for a fact that Funny Postpartum Lady was the ringleader so thank you Liz, and Rebecca at Frugalistablog also had a hand in it, so thank you Rebecca! My girl Jenn from My Daily Jenn-isms also participated, so thank you Jenn! I feel like a real schmeal because I'm not 100% certain what other bloggers were participating in this giveaway so if anyone knows, please post it in the comments or message me on FB and let me know so that I may give them a proper thank you. And by proper thank you I mean big, wet, sloppy kisses.

Now on a totally unrelated issue, did you know that you can go online and sell your used panties?? Do you really think I could make this up? Really? Wow you give me way too much credit. Through the magic that is Twitter, I learned from Crasstalk that you can, indeed, go online to this website and sell your panties. Or your manties, if you're a dude. Seriously. Ew.

Well that's all for now. I've wasted enough of your time and have wasted enough of my afternoon when I really should've been doing work, saving the world, looking at satellite images etc. So I bid you a fond adieu for now, mes amis! Bon appetite! Bon soir! Buenos tacos. And snarky hugs.

Friday, November 9, 2012

Ode to a Runner

About 3 years ago, she forced me to run about 15 feet to a stop sign. I hated her for that because I hate to run. I was wearing my cute white Reebok sneakers. Not running shoes by any means but they were good for walking around. The next day, she forced me to run beyond the stop sign to a tree about 10 feet past the tree. What a bitch. I cursed her. A lot.

We had started walking together after work at night and apparently she was becoming bored with walking. Did she not understand that I hated running? Apparently she understood. She just didn't care. Bitch. One evening we were walking laps around our local park. One full lap around is 8/10 of a mile. We walked a few laps and she decided we needed to run. My first time I made it half way around the park. And I died. Literally, I lost my life. Ok shut up, that's what it felt like. We got into her car and my face was a shade darker red than the color of her red car. I was short of breath, I was sweating, and most of all, I hated her.

But I didn't. How could I hate her? She was pushing me outside of my box. She was making me do things that SUCKED but it was for my own good. She knew it, and I didn't want to admit it. But she was helping me. And secretly I loved her for it.

We ran our first 5K together. Then our first 10K. When we went to get fitted for running shoes we were taken care of by this crazy woman who had to cut her 17 mile run short that morning to get ready for work. 17 miles. BAHAHAHAHA. She also had a GPS thingy that she wore when she ran. Nazi and I mocked her when we got to the car. What a nut! What a crazy ass psycho!! What kind of lunatic runs that far and has a GPS. This is what I get for mocking.

She ran my first Half Marathon with me next, and we crossed the finish line together, hand in hand. In February of the following year, she convinced me we had to run the Marine Corps Marathon, so we schlepped down to Quantico and ran the Marine Corps Race to Register 10K. If you finished that 10K you were guaranteed a spot in the Marathon that October. Did I mention that 10K was on the coldest morning in the history of cold mornings? No shit, it was about 2 degrees. But we finished it, and we registered for and then ran the Marine Corps Marathon on Halloween. She cried as she finished, overcome with emotion. (I was too busy drooling over hot Marines and trying not to die).

Marine Corps Marathon: Michelle, Nazinutjob, me & Diane.
Last September she invited me over, plied me with wine and strong-armed me into registering for the Goofy Challenge. For those of you who don't know, the Goofy Challenge is another term for Clinically Insane but that doesn't look as good on a T-shirt with a Disney character. So in January of this year, we flew to Disney, and ran a half marathon on Saturday, then a full marathon on Sunday. 39.3 miles in 2 days. It was lunacy. Sheer and utter ridiculousness. But it was a blast and I got a bunch of really cool bling out of it.

Diane on the left, me, and the Naziwhackjobrunningcrackho on the right
Me, Barb, Pluto, Diane and Psychocrazyrunningbitch
She's definitely been bitten by the 'no I need to go farther' bug. Bitten in her brain. In the past 2 years, I've lost track of how many full marathons she's run. She's a die hard runner and I am in awe. But wait, it gets better.

This past March she spearheaded the 1st Annual Keller Williams March for Kids Health 5K with the help of all of her Sole to Soul Sisters, our running family. This pic was taken as we were giving out the prizes to the winners of the race.
Susan and the Nazi. One of my favorite pictures. Ever.

Next weekend, she will take on the biggest challenge of her running career. This will quite possibly rank up there among one of the hardest things she's ever done. In her life. Next Saturday, she will run the JFK 50 Miler. This is a really special run for her. She celebrated her 50th birthday last December, and this year marks the 50th anniversary of this 50 mile run. She believes it's her destiny to run this race. And she's not letting anything silly like a little leg injury stop her from completing this monumental feat. She has an indomitable spirit, a huge heart, the most positive attitude I've ever come across and is truly one of the most generous people I've ever met.

So here's to you, Lisa Kingsbury. I will be with you during the JFK and can't wait to see you cross the finish line. I love you, my crazy lunatic friend. I dedicate the first beer to you.

It's all about the beer at the finish line.

My friend Lisa and I on her 50th birthday. 

Monday, November 5, 2012

We're Going on a Bear Hunt, or How to Put Your Kids in Peril

My girls were both in Girl Scouts when they were younger, and yes, I was a leader for a time. (Shut up, I'm awesome with kids, a real role model!) I remember a bunch of sing-song camp type poems that the girls used to sing, like Herman The Worm and Little Bunny Foo Foo, but there was always one that I never gave much thought to until I saw that it was an actual honest to God book. We're Going On A Bear Hunt. And imagine my surprise when it turns out that the group of people going ON the actual bear hunt aren't a group of scouts or even hunters that are going on said bear hunt.

And this leads me to today's blog, brought to you by the lovely Nicole over at Ninja Mom and her Character Assassination Carousel.

Courtesy of www.NinjaMomBlog.com

The Character Assassination Carousel is a place where parents get to tell the REAL story behind a favorite children's book. I've wanted to do this for awhile and now I have the opportunity to rip to shreds give my take on the book We're Going On A Bear Hunt.

The story starts off nice enough, dad taking the kids on a little adventure. Sadly, mom couldn't make the trip because she's at the bar looking for therapy in the bottom of a bottle of Grey Goose.  Why? Because her husband and their adventurous family has finally driven her over the edge of sanity. She's had enough of camping, bugs, rats, roaches and his constant methods of teaching the kids about the great outdoors. She was apparently the wife on Green Acres in a previous life.

So with mom at the bar, dad and the kids decide that they are, in fact, going on a bear hunt when they come upon several obstacles. The first one is pretty safe: grass. Long wavy grass. And as they proceed with every obstacle they face, they can't go over it, they can't go under it, they have to go through it. Now, this is fine when we're talking about long wavy grass and it's even sort of bearable when they face the thick, oozy mud. Sure it's dirty but good thing they're coming to the next obstacle, the river. The deep, cold river. Nice, dad. That deep, cold river you're dragging those little kids through is sure to rid them of all that thick, oozy mud. If they don't drown first. Asshole. Look at little Suzy Lou, lifting her dress up to show her granny panties because she doesn't want to get the dress she's wearing wet. And seriously? Is a dress the appropriate attire for a bear hunt anyway?

Next obstacle they face: A forest. A big, dark forest. Jesus, no wonder mom's an alcoholic! Didn't this jackass ever hear of Disney World? No, he's not taking his kids on an adventure to the 'happiest place on Earth', not this guy. He's not raising any sissies. He's taking them into the big dark forest where there could be murderers, rapists or even bears! Oh wait, that's what we're going for here. Sorry.

So, naturally since they can't go over it, and they can't go under it, by all means, let's drag the kiddies through the big, dark forest. And what do they come upon on the other side of the big, dark forest?? Well of course it's a swirling, whirling snowstorm!

And of course, being 'Father of the Year' he conveniently forgets that it's fucking wintertime and his kids don't have jackets. Or shoes. But does he care??? Of course not. They're on a bear hunt for Christ sake. This is FUN, remember? The kids are grassy, muddy, wet, scared from the forest and now you're going to give them all pneumonia by dragging their sorry asses through a Goddamn snowstorm. Both parents should be thrown in jail for child endangerment. Mom for being a raging alcoholic who abandons her brood when they need her most, and dad for being a complete dumbass douchebag fucktard for dragging his children on this little escapade in the first place. What the hell is wrong with this guy? I think the sequel to this book ought to be called We're Going to Family Services Where Mom and Dad Lose Custody!

Now, just when you thought they had faced all of the obstacles that they can possibly face and STILL remain a loving, close-knit family, next up on the docket: a scary dark cave. OF COURSE! Come on, kids, what could possibly go wrong by taking your babies into a scary dark cave? You moron. There are bears in caves!! Oh wait, that's the point! It's a bear hunt! So the family obviously can't go under it, and they can't go over it, they have to go through it. And what to their wondering eyes should appear in a scary dark cave??? How about a fucking bear?? "OH NO, IT'S A BEAR!!!" Well duh, dumbass, you're going on a bear hunt and guess what! You found one. Nice going, Ward Cleaver. So let's take inventory shall we?

We've dragged our little brood over hill and dale, through storms, rivers, forests and into caves to find a bear, and what do we do when we find a bear?? Well of course, we turn around and haul ass out of the cave. Out into the fucking snowstorm, back through the Goddamn dark scary forest, back through the river where Suzy Lou has to lift up her dress again showing God and all the creatures of the forest her Goddamn granny panties for a second time (you just know she'll either be in therapy or a hooker by the time she's 12), back through the thick, oozy mud, to the long, wavy grass and back home where they proceed to climb into Daddy's bed (don't even get me started on this one) and hide from the bear, who naturally followed the family, because, well, they woke him up and he's fucking hungry and 7-11 won't sell him any beef jerky or burritos.

So yeah, he follows this stupid-ass father and his fucked up kids back to their house and would you look at that? They forgot to close the front door! Instead of Dad delegating (sacrificing) one of his offspring to the bear, the whole damned family (minus mom, of course, who is now passed out in the back alley behind the bar) goes back downstairs to shut the front door. This, obviously, lets the bear know that he is not granted access to the house, and his meal ticket is lost. I actually rooted for the bear in this story, hoping he'd have a full meal.

But you know what? It's okay, because the bear knows a shortcut back to the cave. He has to go right by the bar where mom was getting shitfaced, and when he finds her drunk ass passed out in the alley behind the bar, he drags her back to his cave and leaves the family motherless as he dines on her body. Who has the last laugh now, you dumbass dad??

Image courtesy: Wikimedia.org

If you’d like to post about one of your kids’ books and take a ride on 
NinjaMom’s Character Assassination Carousel,
let me or Nicole from NinjaMomBlog know. She’d love to have you.
Last blogger on the carousel was Kim at Let Me Start By Saying
 Next up: Toulouse from Toulouse and Tonic takes a spin.

Saturday, November 3, 2012

Mellow Saturday

How exciting is my life?

jenn is bootiful

15 just wrote that. She's looking over my shoulder as I'm trying to pull some thoughts out of my ass, and when I leaned back in my chair, she decided that you would be interested in finding out more about her. So there you have it. She's got no grasp of the English language, and can't spell. How proud am I?

So I had a very exciting Saturday. Let me start from the beginning. When I came downstairs to let the dogs out at 8:00, I heard a very distinctive sound. A very muffled "meow". After checking the basement and garage with no luck, I knew there could only be one other possibility. The cat had, once again, gotten into the fridge last night when the kids weren't paying attention, and she was stuck in there all night. I swear to God, I cannot make this shit up. This is the third time she's done this. I'm totally unaware of what her attraction is to the refrigerator, but she tries to get in there every time she sees the door open. Someone asked me about the temperature in the house compared to the fridge, maybe it's too hot in here and since she can't take off all her clothes, she needs to cool off. So I went back into the fridge to get the thermometer out and see exactly what the temperature was in that little box. Guess who jumped back in when I had the door open to get the thermometer. Sometimes I wonder if she wasn't dropped on her head as a kitten.

Anyway, after that little bright spot of my morning, I hit the gym with the Nazi and did an hour and 10 minutes of pool jogging. Once that was over, I rode the stationary bike before taking 15 to her first trumpet lesson. She's great at playing trumpet but has decided she wants to try out for the W.V. All State Band, and her band instructor has let her know that most kids who make the All State Band take lessons. So now she's taking lessons. Once we got home I mowed the grass and had the kids rake up all the leaves. Jealous yet? Go on, you can admit it. I won't tell.

Then it was time for a shower. I dried my hair, put on a cute sweater and some make up and the Nazi and I went to the local wine shop for a wine tasting. We were there for 20 minutes. That, my friends, was worth putting on make up. And can you guess what I made for 15, 13 and I for supper? If you guessed chocolate chip pancakes, you'd be right! Wow, you're really good at this.

After dinner, 13 went to a sleepover, 15 did her homework and I went to watch a movie with the Nazi and her hubby. Now I'm looking forward to setting the clocks back an hour to live one more exciting hour in this exciting day!!

And how did YOU spend your Saturday?

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Trick or Treat?

So just how old is too old to go trick or treating in your opinion? Last year 15 and 13 stayed home and handed out candy with me, and the year before we were in DC because hubby and I ran the Marine Corps Marathon which was on Halloween. So this year, I've got a 15 year old who wants to go trick or treating BUT it's for Unicef for the Key Club. 13 wants to go trick or treating with her best girl friend.

I've always had a dislike for older kids showing up on my doorstep with a flannel shirt, jeans and a pillow case. They come to the door and look at me. They don't say "Trick or Treat" or "Eat Shit" they just look at me as if to say "Well, bitch what are you waiting for? Gimme the candy." Honestly can't stand that. For crying out loud, at least TRY. Put on a mask, say something. But no. No costume, no plea for candy, and no "Thank you" when they do get candy. I won't allow either of my girls to ever do this. They were raised better. But when do you say enough is enough to your kids? Do I say 'no, you're too old' when all of their friends are showing up at my door? Granted, their friends ARE dressed in costume and most are respectful, but that makes me the grouchy old mom who won't let her kids go trick or treating.

What's a mother to do? What do YOU do? How old is too old, in your opinion?

As an aside (cuz you know I'm FULL of asides) a few years back we did Shep or Treat at Shepherd University here in town with 13's old Girl Scout troop and the kids went trick or treating in the dorms. Now, I'm not sure where they get the idea that college kids have enough money to buy treats to give out, but this one poor kid had given out all the candy he had bought and had resorted to handing out Little Debbie Oatmeal Creme cookies, and when he ran out of those, it was Ramen and Pop-Tarts for everyone. I believe we depleted his food budget for an entire semester.

Whatever you decide to do tonight, be safe, don't eat all your kids' candy, and Happy Halloween!

I got a rock.

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

I'm Getting Around!

I'm proud to be a part of a brand new site called The Epistolarians. I'm even MORE excited to say that I've got a blog featured on that site as of today. Go have a look and after you read my blog post there, take a look around the site and leave some comments. Hope you'll book mark it and go back to visit it frequently.

Take a look at The Epistolarians, and read my blog, Preparing for Doom.

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Songs for the School Bus

Songs. Music. What would life be like without music? I know in our house, it would suck.  My alarm clock rouses me out of sleep with music, not a nasty buzzer. 15's is the same way. 13 sleeps with the radio on. We love music. First thing we do when we get in the car is to find our favorite song on XM. 34,953 stations, that damn song has to be on ONE of them! 15 is in the marching band, jazz band and symphonic band at her high school, and 13 is in band and jazz band in her middle school. Simply put, music is a huge part of life at Casa Snarkfest.

I don't have a musical bone in my body. But I do have a sarcastic streak (no really! I'm serious!) And I'm fairly creative. And devious. So I put all of those talents to good use, strictly for motivational purposes. Let me 'splain.

When 15 started middle school, and her bus came an hour and a half earlier than it did when she was in elementary school, we began to have some trouble with her making the bus. Many many times I'd end up driving her to school, or worse, making her walk! The school is almost exactly 1 mile from our house. We have no sidewalks here in the little burg in which we live, and there is one pretty nasty busy road, so I'd walk with her. But it was a pain in the ass to have to walk my kid to school because I had other things going on. I had another kid who needed to get up and get ready for school, I had to get ready for work. The world did NOT revolved around her. Call me selfish, I don't care. I needed to get her to get motivated to make the bus to school on time. 

Enter music. I've often said I'm a font of useless information, and I have a history of remembering song lyrics from songs I haven't heard in 30 years, so I used this super power of mine to create little ditties to motivate her. I'd take a song and change the lyrics to either celebrate her making the bus or lament her missing it.

When 13 entered middle school last year, 15 was entering high school, and now I had 2 who had to make a 7:00 a.m. bus. The challenges of raising teens. The drama, the heartache, the fighting, the clothes. WHO KNEW I'd also have the dreaded school bus to deal with too? THAT wasn't in the handbook! So when 13 started missing HER bus, I started adding her to the songs. 

Did I mention they HATE it? HATE may not even be strong enough. Because I put these songs on Facebook each morning. And my friends saw them. And their friends saw it. And their friends' parents. And their teachers. And when these outsiders would say something to 15 & 13, they'd come home aggravated. "Mom, would you PLEASE stop putting your songs on Facebook??" Sure, I'd say, just start making the bus and I'll stop.

But they didn't. And I didn't. It's not always easy. Once that last school bus leaves my driveway, I have to come up with clever lyrics to your favorite songs. I do not plan these in advance. Honestly. I sit down with my coffee, stare at my screen and hum tunes in my head. Sometimes I come up completely blank and the creative juices do not flow. It's on occasions like that when this is about all I can come up with:

This is the way they make the bus
Without a fuss
Without a cuss
This is the way they make the bus
so early, Monday morning.

Other times I get something awesome in my head and know exactly what I'm going to write. Here's one from this morning:

I awakened their lazy butts
I told them both to shower off
They made their buses and 
Blew me one last kiss

They didn't give me a hard time
I'm checking the basement for pods
They made their buses and
Blew me one last kiss

*Pink - Blow Me One Last Kiss

My one problem is this: once I write it out on FB, I hit 'enter' and that's the end. It's out there for everyone to see and I move on with my day. I don't keep track of them. Sometimes I use them more than once and this is only because I have forgotten that I've done them. I really should start keeping these in a file somewhere in case there is a book in my future. 

I'm also interested in taking suggestions. I promise, anyone offering suggestions will get full credit for their ideas. I may even pay you in donuts or beer. So let's have them! Tell me a good song, change the lyrics. Did they make it? Did they miss it? Show me something clever. And Blow Me One Last Kiss.

Monday, October 22, 2012

Some awesome news and even awesomer bloggers!

Check out the really nice blog post about Snarkfest from the lovely Judy Susan over at Running Toward the Light Without Spilling My Drink. What a sweetheart she is! I'm speechless (and those of you who know me know that this is something that's next to impossible to do!)

Also on my cool chicks list today is Michelle from You're My Favorite Today, who gave me a shout out on her blog as she received the Liebster Award. Thanks Michelle!

While I'm doling out the Kudos to some of my favorite people, let me also take the time to say hey and howdy to Jenn over at My Daily Jenn-isms who is one of the most generous, sweet ladies out there whether it's in the blogosphere or in real life. She takes the time every Wednesday to pimp out a new page each hour on her FB page. She truly cares about other people and for that, I thank her!

Some other totally cool chicks I'd love to mention are Evil Joy, of Evil Joy Speaks, Stef of Mom-Spirational, Rebecca of Frugalista Blog, the lovely Slacker Mom, the always sweet Dina of A Plucky Procrastinator, the always awesome Christina of Riding The Crazy Train: Diary of a Delirous Mom, the lovely and delicious Tracy of Momaical, and the profoundly tasty Katie of Somewhat Sane Mom.

By no means are these the only ladies that I love to follow, but I'm at work and should be concentrating on looking for oil spills in the Gulf of Mexico and not gushing about fantastic bloggers, but darn it, I can't help it. They are awesome.

Now go have yourself an amazing Monday.

And yes, that's an oxymoron.

Friday, October 19, 2012

What the HELL is wrong with me??

UPDATED 10/20:

No real changes. The hall upstairs did get cleaned and vacuumed (not by me, I have 13 to thank for that). And the guest room IS clean (not by me, I've got 48 to thank for that). I did vacuum the 467 lbs of dog and cat hair from the steps, but that was it.

I did get a nice run in this morning with the Nazicrackho, and am spending tomorrow at Notaviva winery in Northern Virginia with Nazi and Susan. Looking forward to that!!

Enjoy the rest of your weekend. :)


It happened again this morning. I swear, I have never had an issue with ADD, ADHD, never been very easily distracted (oh a kitty!) but in the past two weeks, this has happened to me:
My counter this morning.
My floor last weekend

My counter last weekend
I keep forgetting to put the actual COFFEE MUG under the spout to catch the freshly brewed coffee that comes pouring out of the Keurig. Back in the age of dinosaurs and Mr. Coffee makers, I never forgot to put the glass carafe under the basket before turning on the power, so someone needs to 'splain to me why I'm having issue with my Keurig. I got it as either a Mother's Day gift or for my birthday, (memory escapes me, go figure) and up until last week I NEVER forgot to put a mug under the spout. Now I've done it twice. My thought process was as follows:

Coffee, mmmmm good, hot, fresh coffee. I'll just put the water in, then put the K-Cup in. Then I'll turn on the power button and make good, hot, fresh coffee. Oh, I need to make lunches, so I'll lay out 4 slices of bread for sandwiches. Ooooooh no, no clean knives in the silverware drawer, I'll have to empty the dishwasher. Yay, dishwasher emptied, now let me get a knife and start making the san...... Oh SHIT!!!!!! The bread did manage to soak up a good bit of the coffee that came out of my Keurig and onto my counter. That's positive, right??

In other news, I've given up cleaning my house. More specifically, the mess NOT made by me. Let me explain. I live in a dumpster. My children KNOW how to put a dish in the sink or dishwasher, they just choose NOT to. Don't ask me why. 15 has been told, pretty much on a daily basis, to remove her clothes from the floor in the bathroom once she's finished showering. And yet, she forgets to do this. Every. Single. Day. They bring cups of juice, soda, milk, whatever up to their rooms or into the family room and once the cup is empty, that spot becomes the cup's permanent home until I do a sweep of the room prior to running the dishwasher. But no more. I'm done. I sent this email to my family yesterday. I have not yet gotten back any response.

Dear Husband, 15 & 13,

This morning, I was in the family room and looked at the end tables and saw a bowl, a yogurt cup and spoon, 3 popsicle sticks and 3 different drinking cups. I started to clean them up and thought, 'why am I doing this? I did not make this mess'.

Here is my issue. When I am finished with
a dish, a coffee mug or a cup, I put it either in the sink, on the counter or in the dishwasher if it's empty. I do NOT, however, leave it lying on a table in another room for someone else to clean up. So why, then, is it MY responsibility to clean up after everyone else who chooses to leave all these dishes, plates, cups, trash lying all over the house??? Cheese stick wrappers on my computer desk?? Go-gurt wrappers on the stairs?? Really?? Why is this my job to clean that up???

Grandma and Grandpa are coming on Saturday and staying overnight. The upstairs hallway, no matter how much I try to keep it clear, once again has clothes strewn all over the place. And don't even get me started on the bed that those two will have to sleep on. Clothes that get washed, dried and piled. There is NO follow through. It is JUST as easy to fold each load as it comes out of the dryer. That's what I do. Fold and sort and distribute. It takes a few extra minutes but it gets RID of the 'pile it on the dryer or the guest bed for someone else to deal with' step. Because it always seems to fall on MY shoulders to deal with that step and I'm pretty sick and tired of it.

Family, THIS HAS GOT TO STOP. We are all FAR too busy in our lives to let this stuff pile up, because then it becomes a burden for one person (ME) to get it all clean before someone comes over and, God forbid, sees just what pigs we are. I am not saying that I am blameless in any of this, and I have allowed it to continue. But I'm so over and done with cleaning up after 3 other perfectly healthy human beings.

15, you borrowed $15 from a teammate to buy a shirt today at Regionals, after I had given you $25 this morning. Your first response "What about the $12 daddy said he had"
  and when I asked how you planned on paying her back you responded: "Can I please have an allowance like everyone else??"

Now, I put this to you. Why would I even THINK of paying anyone money to put their stuff all over the place and expect me to clean it up?? I would be
absolutely MORE than happy to give each child $10 each week as allowance, provided I think that they have earned it. But I'd rather spend $100 a month on hiring a cleaning lady to do the work instead of giving my children money for doing absolutely NOTHING. At least a cleaning lady is earning it.

If you want the house to look presentable for Grandma and Grandpa, you will have to clean it up yourselves. I volunteered to work in concessions to earn money so we don't have to shell out hundreds of dollars for 15's band. If I stay home and clean, it's more money we have to put out when we have clearly been trying to STOP spending unnecessary money.

If they show up on Saturday and the house is a mess, I'm not making apologies or excuses. I'm just going to say the house is a mess because the
person that is responsible for cleaning it got sick of cleaning messes she did not make.


When I got home from concessions last night, this is what I found on the end table mentioned above:
Mess that has been sitting on my end table for at least 3 days

Again, none of this is mine. Notice that the yogurt container is gone. Hubby got rid of that, because that was his mess. Is it just me?

Tuesday, October 16, 2012


The lovely and talented menopausalmomma has generously included me in her list of awards from this weekend. She has bestowed upon me the Lovely Blog Award and for that I give her tons of hugs and a big wet sloppy kiss!!! Please go give her some loving when you can, she's a blast. <3

 Here are the rules:
  • Post the award logo in your post and thank the amazing, beautiful, witty, charming and talented blogger who gave you the award.
  • Nominate 5 other deserving bloggers
  • List 7-15 random facts about yourself
So here are my nominees for the Lovely Blog Award:

Evil Joy Speaks
My Mom's A Whackjob!
Somewhat Sane Mom

And here are 7-15 random facts about yours truly:

  1. I'm snarky (I know, you're shocked, right??)
  2. I'm extremely short, 5'1" and I am covered in freckles
  3. I've hated my hair since I came out of the womb. HATE IT
  4. I should be working right now but I'm not (shhhh don't tell)
  5. I hate lima beans and brussel sprouts. A lot.
  6. I love cooking Thanksgiving dinner
  7. I REALLY love baking for the holidays. I'm great at cookies.
  8. I hate coming up with random facts about myself
  9. I made homemade mac and cheese with chopped ham for 13's birthday and it was goooood.
  10. I am the queen of holding grudges. I still hold a grudge for something that happened in 1988.
  11. I have a wicked good memory for movie quotes, and am a font of useless information.
  12. I've officially run out of random facts.


Monday, October 15, 2012

My apologies? Not so fast......

First, let me start by rescinding the apology I made over the weekend to the good folks at the place I linked to in that blog that caused such an uproar. I pretty much caused someone's panties to get in a bunch. Not very positive. You know the blog of which I speak. Okay, I am hereby rescinding the apology that I typed out and posted on one of the co-founders' blogs because she said that I had 'laid hurt on' her heart. If you aren't sure wtf I'm talking about, go through the blogs I posted within the past few days, then scroll down and read one of the last comments posted, you'll see two different blogs mentioned in that comment, right before I swallowed my pride and got all weepy and sorry. Yeah, about that. I've decided that I'm NOT sorry I said what I said. What I AM sorry for is that people put themselves out there in the innerwebs, opening themselves up for all kinds of things, and then get all sad and sensitive when someone says a word against them. Here's a suggestion: grow a thicker skin. I was kind in my mocking. There are others out there that would be more than happy to give you a punch in the throat and not be sorry.

I went to the one blog and read what she had written about my 'cruelty' and about how what I said was 'thoughtless, careless and rude'. Now, me being the nice person I am (shut up) and not looking to get anyones' knickers in a twist, I apologized for hurting her feelings. I said that that was not my intent. But you know what? I shouldn't have to apologize for my opinion. And you know what else? It's been 3 days since I posted that apology in a comment and I have not seen one single acknowledgement regarding my words. If someone was thoughtless, careless and rude to me and I got all sad and weepy, and then they came back and apologized, I'd damn well acknowledge that apology. I'd at least say "Hey so and so, I appreciate your saying that you're sorry. I respect that you had the decency to come to MY page and publicly apologize to me for hurting my feelings." But I didn't even get so much as a "Hey Snarkfest, eat shit". So as I stated, I'm rescinding the apology. I'm not sorry. If you open yourself up to the world with an idea, you have to know that NOT everyone is going to say 'wow, that's brilliant, you're a genius, here's money to get it started.' If you believe that, you are living in fantasy land, so say hi to Mickey for me. As a matter of fact, when I initially saw the original idea for my blog post on that site, trying to raise money to make their dream a reality, they were only at $2600 in contributions. Now they are over $3200. I'd like to think that possibly my little controversy may have given them the sympathy donation and they've actually raised money because of my words. And she admitted that I taught her a lesson in empathy and living in choice. (Did I mention she's a life coach? That's a whole other blog post itself!)

Look, this is my blog. From here on out I will stand by what I say. I will make no apologies for voicing my opinions. If I think something is ridiculous, I'm going to say it, because that's who I am. I make no apologies for my opinions. I am a good person (shut up again) and I'm raising my kids to have a sense of humor. And I feel so badly for those who do not have one. You should get one. They're nice.