Category Archives: kids are the best comic relief

*updated* You go to hell winter! You go to hell and you die!

I guess it’s time to accept the fact that summer (and apparently fall too for that matter) is over. The weather people say that we’re getting snow tomorrow and Wednesday, so I guess I have to accept it (even though I don’t trust the weather people as far as I can throw them). I sure as hell don’t plan on giving up without a fight, though!

These pictures from our day at Lagoon-A-Beach have been sitting in a blank post for a while now (cuz my brain has been on freakin overload lately). They’re the perfect way to stick my tongue out at winter’s attempts to cut in line this year, don’t you think?

P.S. Ash may have a little pink on her thigh, but I’m the one who ended up fried to a crisp that day. Ah, memories!

Update – Winter’s tendrils have apparently have started to creep into my brain, cuz I completely forgot a title to this post. I channeled South Park and think I came up with a good one. Winter totally needs to heed that warning.

*updated* I will not let Twitter ruin my good mood.

Overall, today wasn’t that great.

I attended two hour-long meetings that were a complete waste of time (but they were shorter than the hour AND A HALF that they were actually scheduled for, so there is that), talked to the secretary of an attorney who can’t seem to get it through her head that they ALREADY GOT THE DAMN CHECK (gotta love Payroll, right?), and got extremely frustrated with my problems getting on & viewing tweets (wonder if Brizzly is going to be blocked here at work soon too…..possibly and then I’ll REALLY be screwed).

I got a break, though, when I was talking to her about her about her day. We were getting ready to say goodbye, when all of a sudden, OUT OF THE BLUE, she says, “I love you.”

And it sucks bcuz I can’t tweet it.

Update – And by ‘her’, I mean my daughter. I guess Twitter flustered me more than even I thought. Great. NOW I’M AN ADDICT! Does that mean it’s time for TA. Noooo, not T and A. TA. Twitterers Anonymous.

Gigglesnort of the week – 10/5/2009

I follow Jenny The Bloggess. She is butter. Butter I tell you. She is death by butter. Before the chorus of The Hell? hits the comments, let me explain. Chefs always say cooking with butter is awesome. So by calling The Bloggess butter, I’m professing her total AWESOMENESS! I shit you not.

I also follow another blog that Jenny’s involved with, Good Mom/Bad Mom. This one has some funny shit too, even if the Houston Chronicle tries to contain her awesomeness. You CANNOT contain The Bloggess! Anyway, while reading a recent post, a commenter (TC) provided this week’s gigglesnort:

What I wanna know is, why the fuck didn’t Santa leave THAT doll under my Christmas Tree? I was screwed.

Rock on Bloggess and all your awesome followers!

Picture Day is an evil plot to destroy parenthood as we know it.

Today is Picture Day and I’m ready to scream and commit murder/death/kill. Over hair. Seriously.

My daughter is no girlie-girl. She is definitely more of a tomboy. But I’m usually fairly successful in making a compromise with her so that she at least looks somewhat like a girl. Except with her hair. I can barely get her to comb her hair, let alone *do* anything with it. If she had her way, she would always wear a hat. But she doesn’t always get her way. I win on occasion, picking my battles carefully. I’m sorry, but I want to have *some* pictures/memories where I can say “There’s my beautiful little GIRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLL!”

So this morning the husband tells Ashley to get ready for school so that I can do her hair. And we get the bi-annual *tongue click-foot stomp-sigh-“Noooooo!”*. We’ll see/hear it again in the spring when it comes time for those pictures. Can’t wait. Her response always helps our mood *so* much and at that point we’re all GETREADYFORSCHOOLRIGHTNOW!

Have I told you that I’ve always wanted to be a motivational speaker? No? Well, that’s good, cuz I don’t.

After Ashley gets dressed, she comes in my bathroom. And it begins. I’m having a mental discussion with her hair begging it to help me find an appropriate style that won’t be too difficult to do. Ok, let’s see. I know…I’ll comb this part down. Yes. Wet it a little so it lays right. That’s good. Ashley, will you please stand up straight and stop tilting your head. Thank you. Now I’ll take this small part and wave it back. Hmmm… Maybe. Maybe if I put in a clip to hold it in place? Ye…no. That clip won’t hold. Ashley…PLEASE. *sigh* I don’t have another clip. The few small clips I have won’t match her outfit! WHY DON’T I HAVE ANY OTHER CLIPS? Oh, wait, I found one. Whew! Ok, so let me grab that piece again and wave it back. Slide in the clip. Crap! There’s a piece sticking up. Ok, take the clip back out. Comb it back down. Let’s try this again. Wave that piece back. And slide in the clip. Almost there. And check her wispy bangs. And ohmyfuckingGODAshley! Can you PLEASE just hold still for 5 minutes so I can make you look like you weren’t rolling around in the planter this morning?

These few and far between styling sessions ALWAYS end the same way. I’m pissed off and she’s in tears. Over hair. Seriously. Can I tell you how much I’m looking forward to puberty?

And so *I* end up late for work looking like the walking dead. Cuz after all that? I don’t give a flyingfartinspace what *I* look like today.

P.S. I’ll have to ask my Mom if she had to go through this crap with me on Picture Days. I’m thinking no, but that could be early dementia setting in (I have CRS – Can’t Remember Shit) or from the bender I (think I) was on last night.

Tales of a 5th grade superstar!


She’s a superstar in my eyes, of course.

This child, who regularly sends me to my *happy place*.

This child, who is not a mini me, but is a spot-on mini him (in personality more than anything).

This child, who couldn’t wait to get rid of me on her 1st day, even at a brand new school.

This child, who was FINALLY able to give us the details of her day at school without a single “I don’t know.”

This child, who was AMAZED at having more lunch choices at her new school (and actually had a salad on her 2nd day. WHO IS THIS GIRL?).

This child, who is growing up so fast. She truly is a superstar.

It’s totally OK if it itches in public.

I was reading a post from this awesome blog I recently started following. The part about a toddler complaining about poopie in her ba’gina got me thinking (after I got up from rolling around on the floor of course).

The sperm donor’s sister had a wonderful son John James. One day many many many MANY years ago, she caught him scratching his boy parts. Really diggin in there, apparently. The following conversation is just too GAWD DAMN FUNNY to be made up:

Susie: John, don’t scratch yourself there!

John James: But it itches mommy!

Susie: Well………just don’t scratch it in public.

John James: But what if it ITCHES IN PUBLIC?????

Obviously this happened before puberty set in and his brain migrated to his boy parts & lost the ability to think of these things, ask them, or even give a rats ass about them (and any men reading this,you know you were snickering before you decided to be all offended).

Kids totally rock.

the never-ending struggle with the child and the toothbrush

what exactly do i have to do to get my child to brush her flippin teeth right every time????? no matter what we say or do, it never seems to get through to her. i’m so tired of yelling at her and threatening her to get it done right the 1st time. if we’re lucky, she will do it right for a little while, but then falls back into the same bad habit. i can just imagine if her teeth are a problem now, at age 9, that we’re gonna have serious hygene issues with her once she hits puberty. ugh! now is one of the times when i ask, “and what exactly was the reason we decided to have children?”