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?

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".

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.

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.

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. 

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.

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?