I Want Candy

The kids got a ton of candy for Valentine’s Day. Both of them got something from Sam and me, from school, and from their grandparents. I think they might have ended up with more candy than they did at Halloween, plus 20 or so shitty pencils, plastic slinkies, erasers, etc. Like any other toddler, Baby Girl loves candy. She has perfected the art of asking for candy, too, by batting her eyes, flashing the biggest, cutest grin ever, and saying, “May I have some candy, please?” in the sweetest voice. She’s a master, and can almost always get a little something any time, day or night.

(While writing this post, she told me, “Mommy, I see that chocolate egg. I see it. Chocolate eggs my favorite. I wanna eat it. Can I eat it, Mommy? Please?” Didn’t work that time, since she hadn’t had supper yet. And, yes, we have chocolate eggs, plus a ton of Girl Scout cookies, plus all the candy, since Sam had a small lapse in judgment this weekend.)

On Friday, Baby Girl asked for a piece of Little Man’s candy. Among other things, Little Man got a heart-shaped box full of Hershey miniatures. Since he’d taken some of her stuff, Sam told her to go ahead and gave her the box to pick something out. And then he walked away. Big mistake.

Here’s part of what he came back to five minutes later:

Yep, that’s one or two bites taken out of each piece of candy. Before Sam “took one for the team” and ate some of them, there were 12 pieces that had little bites taken out of them. Good thing I didn’t let her get a hold of my Hershey’s Pot of Gold assortment.

Funny Friday: Valium

So, my husband had a vasectomy this morning. The procedure was a breeze, and he’s fine, aside from feeling a little embarrassed at some things he said. He had to take a Valium before the procedure, and his comments reminded me of the time he was drugged up and had his wisdom teeth out. I had no choice but to write them down, of course.

Regarding another urologist who walked into the building:

That man looks way too happy to be doing his job. 

After a bunch of nurses walked in, he loudly remarked:

That’s way too many white people. ???

When his urologist entered:

Look it’s the man whose gonna cut open my penis! I hope you don’t take too much!

On a female patient who came in:

You think that woman’s gonna get a vasectomy? **Giggles.** Ask her. Ask her.

Thoughts on Valium, while kicked back in a chair in the waiting room:

I could go through life like this. I wouldn’t be useless either. 

Regarding a nurse who came in only five minutes early.

That woman’s late for her work. That’s unacceptable. 

I have no idea what this one was about:

I’m not gonna say what I want to say. All these bitches walking around.

To the doctor:

I need to get my hands on some more of these valiums.

After the procedure was over:

Oh, yeah! I got the snip-snip-sniparoo! No more babies for you. 

Things Kids Say Thursday: My Poop

Sam and I don’t really celebrate Valentine’s Day anymore, but I do make a point to get a little candy and maybe a small toy for the kids. On Monday, Baby Girl and I were shopping and I decided to get the treats. She helped with the candy selection (and repeatedly asked for me to pay for it so she could eat it), and then helped pick out two small stuffed…things  — a donut for herself and an emoji poop for Little Man. 

Why is this a thing? Why?!

Let me tell you, Baby Girl was fascinated with that stuffed poop. After she asked to go see the “fishies,” she held it up and said loudly, “Hey, fish, look at my poop!” I about died laughing.

She got quite a few looks, especially since every person met she would say “I’ve got a poop!” or “Wanna see my poop?!” Plus there was “Hey there, silly poop!” (For some reason, everything is “silly” lately.”

Just so you know, there was fighting over that damn stuffed poop. Lots of it. Little Man didn’t particularly care to play with it, but he also didn’t want BG to touch it at all, because apparently that’s what siblings do. I ended up getting a second poop yesterday on clearance. 

Get To Know Me Challenge

Vic at Plain Ol Vic nominated me to participate in the Get To Know Me Challenge, so I am. I realize some of y’all are thinking “We already know more about you than we want,” but too bad, there’s more. 😉

Share your profile picture if you have one.


This is what I’m using at the moment.

Who are you named after? A freaking soap opera character.

What is your favorite lunch meat? Shaved turkey.

Longest relationship? My current one; we’ve been together almost 13 years and married almost 11.

Do you still have your tonsils? Nope.

Would you bungee jump? I did a sort of bungee jump thing at Carowinds at once. I wouldn’t do either now, but probably would when I get super old or if I were almost on my deathbed.

Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?
 Never. I only untie my sneakers when they get too loose.

Favorite ice cream? Chocolate.

What is the first thing you notice about people? Is it weird that I have no idea? I’m blanking on this one.

Football or baseball? Football. Go Cocks! I do love baseball, too, though.

What color pants are you wearing? Gray pants. The blue jeans I usually wear got wet in the rain.

Last thing you ate? A slice of leftover pizza.

If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Turquoise. Love that color.

Favorite smell? A freshly cleaned baby. Unfortunately, Baby Girl isn’t so much a baby anymore, and it’d be weird if I went around sniffing someone’s baby, so I don’t get to enjoy that scent often. (This probably sounds weird as fuck.)

Who was the last person you spoke to on the phone? Probably my mother-in-law. I rarely talk on the phone because sucky hearing, but my MIL will not take “I can’t hear most of what you say on the phone” for an answer and calls anyway (and then has to talk to my husband because I can’t hear her well enough, sigh).

Hair color? Dark brown.

Eye color? Blue.

Favorite foods to eat? Pizza, turkey sandwiches, steak, chicken.

Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings I guess. I don’t do horror movies.

Last movie you watched? Split.

Favorite holiday? Thanksgiving.

Beer or wine? Neither. I prefer rum, but don’t drink it as often now because alcohol gives me wicked heartburn.

Favorite day of the week? Friday because we’re almost done for the week.

Which of your three favorite bloggers would you like to know more about? Only three? Gah. How about anyone who reads this participate if they want, because I’d definitely enjoy reading the answers from just about anyone who follows/comments on this blog.

Who were the latest three people to follow your blog (link to their about page?

The last three legit people to follow:

The Barefoot Baby 

Stumbling Mind 

University Mommy

100. Copy this link

Share Your World – February 13, 2017

Do you sleep with your sheets tucked in or out?

Out. I toss and turn a lot, so even when Sam does tuck them in (which he does occasionally when it’s cold to try to keep his fair share of the blankets), they end up out (and all on my side) anyway.

Have you stolen a street sign before?

Nope. Some of my friends debated stealing a traffic cone once, but decided against it. We later contemplated stealing a cart from Food Lion, and did go through with it. Being the youngest, I was sent in to buy a carton of eggs (you know what for) and made off with the cart. After driving around the county feeling like hardened criminals, we left the cart at the front doors of a church so the congregation would get a surprise the next morning. #Hardcore

Do you cut out coupons but then never use them?

Not really. I used to be one of those (sort of) extreme couponers, so I’d get several newspapers each week and cut like hell for stuff that I knew I could get cheap or free on good sales (free milk, dirt cheap diapers,free cleaning supplies!), but now I mostly just use coupons when I’m clothes shopping.

Do you have freckles?

Oh yeah, tons of them. Little Man was marveling over how many freckles I have now compared to a picture he saw from about 11 years ago on my honeymoon (and it was a lot even then).

Share Your World is hosted by Cee’s Photography blog.

Here’s To A Less Busy Week

Super busy week is over, but not without another round of illness. (Seriously, wtf is wrong with my house? Do I need to start bathing everyone in Lysol?) A few hours after making my post about sicknesses, I went to pick up Little Man from school. He looked kinda pissed as he got in the car, so I figured he’d had a bad day. As soon as he closed the door, he said, “Mom, I feel like I’m gonna puke.”

Oh shit. “Okay, let me pull up–” and then he projectile vomited all over the car. The next few hours were rough, but fortunately it was just a 24-hour bug, and he didn’t miss out on any of his birthday festivities. Also, fortunately, no one else has gotten it yet.

Little Man’s birthday celebrations went well. He had lots of cake and got lots of nice gifts, so he was a happy boy. For those of you with younger kids — we found out that third grade is the age where parents drop off their kids and disappear for hours. Some of the parents didn’t even bother coming inside. Almost 20 wild kids and a bounce house for three hours — sweet baby Jesus, we needed some booze. Luckily my cousin, who happens to be a third grade teacher, showed up with her kiddos and helped out some.


I had the dreaded physical on Friday. Unfortunately, the doctor my family sees that we love left abruptly (family issues, we were told), so I had to see someone new. It went well, plus I found out that my cholesterol had dropped 40 points, plus I lost a little weight. I was thrilled with the cholesterol drop, down into the normal range now. That will definitely serve as motivation for improving my health in 2017. I also had an X-ray done for a nagging foot issue and found that the pain is because of a bone spur. Yuck!

Something else new in my household that isn’t health related — Baby Girl is now speaking in a British accent a lot. Her favorite new show is Peppa Pig (thanks a lot, MawMaw), and Peppa is a British show, in case you didn’t know. I swear she isn’t watching so much of it that it should be impacting her former country as hell Southern accent, but it is. It hasn’t helped that Sam and Little Man are encouraging her. So, now the little blonde headed girl that doesn’t look like she belongs to our family also doesn’t sound like she belongs with our family. I’m not traveling outside the country with her anytime soon, we’d probably be accused of kidnapping. 😉


More Sickies And Stuff

The December and January sickies have followed us into February. After being stubborn and refusing to go to the doctor for a few days, I went to the urgent care on Sunday and was given some medicine for bronchitis, a deep sinus infection, and an ear infection. “Why on earth did it take you so long to come in?” the doctor asked while my husband rolled his eyes at my “wait and see” explanation.

The sinus infection has been kicked it seems, the ears feel much better, but bronchitis likes to linger, especially in people with asthma, being the motherfucker it is.

This is our Busy Week, by the way. So, I did not make it to the baby shower on Sunday that I didn’t want to go to anyway. I also rescheduled two of my appointments for later. I did go to Little Man’s science fair (he placed 3rd for his grade in the district) and the spelling bee, and by the grace of God, I didn’t hack my head off through it. He placed 9/15 in the bee, which I think is pretty good for being the youngest in a competition that had kids through eighth grade. He misheard the word (and knew every one after that), so he was disappointed in himself, but still showed a great display of sportsmanship at the end, which made us very proud. When he was given a $20 Amazon card for participating, he perked up quite a bit. A batch of my world famous chocolate chip cookies erased any leftover feelings of disappointment.

We had to take Baby Girl to the doctor yesterday since she’s been sporadically throwing up again. We suspected either acid reflux or an allergy. The PA gave her a prescription for an antacid, plus we’re going to give her lactose-free milk and track everything she eats for a few weeks and see how she does.

Little Man’s birthday is on Saturday, and we are having birthday celebrations on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. One with our extended family, one with just the four of us (my husband insists we celebrate just us on the actual birthday), and one with his friends from school at a private bounce house place. We could’ve had the family come to the bounce house place, but I think they’d have hated us a little for that, so LM gets three days of celebrating.

Soccer season started again yesterday. Sam is coaching LM’s team this year. I’m supposed to help, but didn’t feel up to it yesterday, so I just sat on the sideline and took notes on the players. I didn’t know most of their names, so I had things like “Yellow Shirt does this” and “Birthmark does that,” much to my brother’s amusement (he is also helping). The practice went well until we ran out of light. Sam has been doing a lot of research on drills and on working with kids this age, so hopefully it goes well for him. I’ll probably sit far away from the parents just in case, since they’ve always openly shit-talked coaches on the sidelines, and I don’t want to punch a bitch. (Okay, I don’t want to feel like punching a bitch, since I probably would never do more than give a dirty look.)

So, that’s all I have to report for the past week of blogging absence. Sickies, Little Man’s stuff, and more Little Man’s stuff to come. And, oh yeah, I started watching Prison Break on Netflix. I like it. Now you’re fully up to speed.

Are y’all managing to avoid getting all the sicknesses in your home? 

Things Kids Say: Thomas Edison

Yesterday, Little Man told me about an awesome song he’d heard at school written by Thomas Edison called “Apologize.” Now, I’m no history buff, but I was pretty sure that a) that was a song on the radio and b) that Edison wasn’t a song writer and c) even if he were a song writer, that something he had written wouldn’t have enough staying power to last for close to 100 years.

“Are you sure about that?” I asked, chuckling. “I don’t remember any history lessons about Thomas Edison writing pop songs.”

“Yes,” LM insisted. “I heard it in class today.”

I told him I’d google it. Unsurprisingly, nothing music related came up with I searched for “Thomas Edison” and “apologize song.” However, I did find a Tumblr page called “Thomas Edison is the WORST,” so there’s that.

“Check YouTube,” LM told me. “It was on there.”

The same search didn’t turn up a song written by Edison, but I did find this:

“Mom, we watched it on YouTube in class. I know it’s real,” LM told me. “Try ‘It’s too late to apologize.'”

That did the trick. We found the video he was talking about, but there was no Thomas Edison in it. It’s a constitution parody video.

After telling LM that Thomas Edison had nothing to do with the constitution, I asked if he thought the video was real.

“It could be. You said they had TV in the olden times when Papa was a little boy.”

So, for any of you folks born in 1961 (or earlier), know that you’re from the olden times.

Someone Pass The Klonopin

This post is gonna be ranty, a little ragey, a little “woe is me,” and possibly incoherent at times. And there won’t even been any cool GIFs, but there will be lots of f-bombs, so you’ve been warned.

Anxiety’s up. Depression’s up. The duo is back. Maybe it’s more circumstantial (I’m pretty sure quite a few Americans are feeling something like that after this week) or maybe it’s another one of those cycles (the psychiatrist insisted that I was hypomanic last week, I insisted that I wasn’t, but the timing for the depression part would be about typical for me if she was right). Maybe both.

I’ve mentioned that things have been stressful lately. Some of it’s big stuff, some of it’s not. But the not-so-big stuff can take its toll when every little thing that can go wrong does go wrong, when people treat you like a doormat and it’s your fault because you let them, when people decide to be douchebags and create problems that absolutely should not exist, but you have to deal with it — on top of everything else — anyway, since the douchebag went full douchebag.

To make my anxiety spike even more, Little Man darted out in front of a car yesterday at the dollar store. We were pushing a cart back in the stall near the door and he abruptly took off to catch up to Sam and Baby Girl. Had the car coming through (and the car was going fairly fast, since this was near the entrance into the shopping center) not stopped on a dime, he’d have been hit. To put it mildly, I freaked the fuck out. I know kids do shit like running out sometimes, but there has been a huge uptick in his impulsive behavior lately. And this was just an hour after we discussed not doing things to put your life at risk. (The story on that: two young kids have died in our area recently; one from the choking game and another either from the choking game or suicide, they’re not sure which yet, but the choking game is apparently so popular that they’re doing forums in each community on it. The kids being one and three years ahead of LM, we needed to talk about certain dangers, peer pressure, etc. Not an easy talk.)

This week will be the calm before the storm. I’m not looking forward to February 3rd through the 12th. Three appointments (including the dreaded physical), spelling bee, district science fair, field trip, birthday celebrations 1, 2, and 3, baby shower for a former friend that I was guilted into hosting, which has grown to be the most expensive non-wedding event I’ll ever have attended (and funded). The demands for the last one grow by the day. Oh, yeah, plus soccer is supposed to start next week. Sam is coaching and I’ll be helping until he gets a few assistants. A few of those things aren’t so involved or time consuming, but the rest more than make up for it. I feel overwhelmed. I also feel guilty for feeling overwhelmed, because what if I had a job? I don’t know how working moms do it when I struggle with this stuff and don’t have 40 hours in an office or classroom on top of it.

That’s just personal life. Then there’s the bullshit that’s been happening since a certain aspiring dictator’s inauguration just over a week ago.* There aren’t enough curse words in the real dictionary or my made-up dictionary for this. After the election, I tried to be hopeful that things would go well, and even defended my family and friends to an extent, because let’s be peaceful and all, but fuck that. America fucked up. I fucked up by being adamant in not “choosing from the lesser of two evils.” It’s all a bunch of fuckery.

Hopefully shit (mental and otherwise) calms down a bit this week so next week won’t have me depleting my supply of anxiety meds.

*I’m venting, so this is not an invitation for political discussion on the merits of his presidency, not even a little.

Things Kids Say: Farts

My kids have said lots of stuff over the past week, but not much of it has been funny, as they’ve both been pissy with me. Especially Little Man. I’d say the tween years are upon us, except I checked, and supposedly that age range is 10 to 12. He’ll be nine next month, so I should have a little more time before he rolls his eyes, huffs, and talks so disrespectfully that I almost see red. I was proud of his ability to detect and use sarcasm when he was four, but now? Not as much. Not when it’s directed at me, anyway.

So…funny things my kids said. I checked Facebook, and I haven’t posted a single funny thing they’ve said all week. All week. That’s a long time in mom years. The only thing that comes to mind is something Baby Girl said last night, but it’s more of a crude humor thing than legit funny (well, not legit funny to me, but to Sam and LM, it was hilarious).

I was rocking Baby Girl when she farted on me. She started giggling, so I made a comment about her “tooting.” (When I was growing up, my Southern Baptist grandmother considered “fart” a bad word. We were permitted to say “tootled,” “tooted,” or maybe “poot” if we were feeling bold. But “fart”? Hell no. I was probably more comfortable saying “shit” as a teenager than I was saying “fart” or “darn” even.)

Baby Girl’s response to my comment was, “No, Mommy, I fart.”

“Baby Girl, we don’t say ‘fart,’ we say ‘toot.'” Not that it really makes a damn bit of difference. Gas is gas, but old habits die hard/we’re doomed to repeating the crap our parents/grandparent said.

Baby Girl shook her head. “FART,” she said loudly, as if I were stupid. “Little Man say ‘fart.'”


“No. I not toot. I FART,” she said quite seriously.

I stopped at that. I have enough pride not to argue with a 2-year-old over this sort of thing.

Oh, and that reminds me of another mildly amusing thing she said. I was talking to her about using the potty — telling me when she has to poop or whatever (she was actually telling me a few months ago, but now is adamant that she’s done nothing at all, even when she’s squatting and straining) — when she heaved a big sigh, shook her head, and told me, “I go to the potty tomorrow.” Procrastinating already.

For some news about Little Man that doesn’t relate to him being rude, he found out that he won the school science fair this week. His project, the source of a minor scandal since kids thought he was drinking wine, was a hit. As Little Man is now saying, “Praise Poseidon!” (Yeah, tabling the ‘go back to church’ thing.) He’ll go to the district fair in a couple of weeks. That fair is the day after the district spelling bee (and is the same week of his birthday, whew). The kid is killing it this year!