Things That FREAK ME OUT

Google knows where I live, and therefore recommends nearby gyms to join.
Google maps, and the pictures is has of my car.
Yahoo knows that I am 40 or more pounds overweight, and can suggest 100% guaranteed diet pills.
Myspace knows I am a mother with young children.
It also knows I'm married.
And that I like receiving free stuff.
And that I would like to work from home, doing minimal work, and make $4K a month. It also assumes I am into stripper attire, a practicing swinger, secretly in love with obscene fetishes, and obsessed with Miley Cyrus.
Twitter. WTH?? Freaky.
John and Kate.
Offers to increase the size of my non existent penis. And hundreds of female attention to boot.
Japanese animation.
Certain family members. You know who you are.
Back fat.
These things.
Douching. WTH?!!
Teenagers. *shudder*

No More Queer Eye for the Princess

So here's the result of her surgery.

NOTE: not for the faint of stomach.



The evil-ish look should resolve itself in about a week.
The surgery went well, she really liked the anesthesia part, and I giggled when she kept falling asleep while the nurse attempted to ask her questions.
Also, she kept her Daddy Doll THE ENTIRE TIME.
Because he was ready to be a Daddy when another wasn't.

One Cat, One Bag, Much Chaos

So, the proverbial cat has been let out of the bag.
(Stay with me here.)
Back in July (I know, I know!), Bio and his wife invited us to their son's first birthday party.
Can we say... awkward?
So after much thought, I decided to attended said soiree.
Now God and I have been having an ongoing conversation regarding this subject. I basically went back and forth and back again, what do I do, when, why, how. The usual. I ended up giving it to God and saying, "Okay. If you want me to tell her about all this, please move her to start asking questions."
And she did.

It began a couple of months before when she and Caleb began asking how babies were made, her three Nana's and three four Papa's and all that fun stuff. When I told her about going to the birthday party, she asked "Am I related to him, too?" And I just felt at peace, so we took a trip to the little bitty town I graduated from and told her the story of her birth.
Leaving out the screaming, crying, jail and child support, of course.
I explained conception as two special Legos, also called cells, one that a woman has and another that a man has, and when they love each other or even THINK they love each other these two Legos connect and make millions of other Legos. But instead of making a city or the Eiffel Tower, they make a baby. Skin, hair, organs, legs, etc. She understood, or at least nodded her head.

Then I told her that I didn't get the second Lego from her Daddy, I got it from another man. And since I did, she was technically his biological daughter, because biological is when one Lego comes from a certain person. Thus, she was my biological daughter and his biological daughter, since our two Legos came together to create her. To further complicate matters, if he uses any of his other Legos with any other woman's Legos, she would be related to them, as well.
So technically, she had three little half brothers and one little half sister.
Her response? "Aye yi yi!!!" *shaking her head*
*Which is exactly what I thought!*

That was just a summary. She asked a lot of questions and I answered them. Then I asked if she understood, and she repeated the story in her own way.
(Did I mention I have some genius genes in that there pool?)
So then she asked who the other Lego came from, and I told her it was a man named Z.
Not really Z, but you know.
Lets call him.... Zazu, which is Hebrew for movement.
LOL. A little inside joke, I suppose.

Anyway, I explain that Zazu is her biological father, but that when she was born he wasn't ready to be a father yet. So I went and found a man who WAS ready to be a father, and that man is her Daddy.
And she asks what she could call him.
"Uh.... Zazu, I guess."
"Yeah, or bliologlical father."
"Yeah, you could call him that I suppose. But it's kinda long."
"What about Father?"
"Umm...."
"But not Daddy, because he wasn't READY to BE a daddy. He wanted to be a FATHER. But DADDY was READY to be a daddy, and that's why he IS my Daddy."
"EXACTLY!!"

Then I went on to explain that he would like to visit her occasionally, and I also explained that he could only come over if SHE wanted him to. Then we talked about the other kids he has. Then we went to the birthday party, where she helped out her "little half brother" swim, open presents, etc. We took pictures. She said hello to Zazu, but didn't ask any questions.
And she hasn't mentioned him since.
Which doesn't bother me in the least.

Queer Eye for the Princess

Well, today we leave on a journey to Autin, Tx, to get Lily's eyes fixed. She was diagnosed in June with bilateral strabismus. If you don't know what that is or are feeling too lazy to click the link, I'll show you:

Yup. Clearly not happy. But after tomorrow she should be able to perceive depth better and not look quite like a walleye. Please pray for everything to go well!!!

A Wife of the Curious Sort

In the fine print of our unspoken marriage agreement it clearly states:
"Wife may change her mind and/or invent very weird things to do/accomplish/demolish, with no retaliation from the Husband allowed."
I believe he has the same stipulation, but with a clause:
"After nine such ideas/statements of intent/upheavals, Wife has sole right to make executive decisions regarding marriage/children/sex. Mainly sex."
James has decided on what he would like to do career wise once he returns home.
Drum roll please......
Police Officer.
Okay. I could possibly do that.
I mean, the po-po don't get deployed.
But they still get shot at.
Maybe I should quit thinking so much.

If you didn't already know, Art Appreciation SUCKED!!!
It was all appreciative and stuff!!!
In four weeks we had 3 tests, 1 PowerPoint presentation, 6 essays, and 14 chapters to read.
UUUGGGHHH.
But I got through it.
And after some prayer I have tentatively decided to take a semester off and commit to writing.
Writing what? I dunno.
But I have a few ideas rolling around in my head.

Oh.
And my in-laws got a new Chevrolet Traverse.
Because, long story short, my brother in-law um.... disabled the Suburban.
I'm so jealous.
Not of the wrecked car.
Of the new car.
But I made them promise we get it in their will, cause my husband was the first-born.
Awesome.

Weekly Weigh-In No Longer Being Numbered

As some of you may remember, my friend Melissa and I had a bet going. The first one of us to lose 50 pounds in six months would be paid $200 by the loser.
We were both losers.
She lost more weight, but not all fifty.
And I.... am still slacking on the whole workout thing.
BLAH.
BUT WAIT!!!
I had to buy a new bathing suit because my current one was TOO BIG!!!
YAY!!!

Weigh-In: 211.

Lost: 18

To Go: 32

My Love!

JAMES WILL BE HOME IN TWO WEEKS!!!!

FOR GOOD!!!!

NO MORE DEPRIVATION!!!!

NO MORE GOODBYES!!!

YAY!!!!!!!

Cause I'm Feeling Like A Criminal

The kids and I got back yesterday from visiting my Aunt Judy and clan for the weekend. It was filled with zucchini, politics and swimming. Awesome!
Oh, and a ticket.
Technically, for "failing to move right/left with safety."
I like "the kid got in my way and I took off his side mirror!"
But I have a good excuse!!
A cop had just pulled onto the highway behind me, so I was reminding myself to be sure and use my blinker when I pass the semi-truck so that I wouldn't get a ticket, and .... I didn't see the car beside me and got a ticket anyway.
So really, it was the cop's fault.
But we were only going like 15 m.p.h. so I only got a black plastic smear on my door.
He lost a whole mirror.
So anyway, the lights start flashing and we both pull over and my kids... well, you know my kids.

"Mom? Why are you pull-- MOM! There's a COP behind you!!"
"What did you DO?!!!"
(It was so minuscule an incident they didn't even feel me bump the kid with my car.)
"MOM!! You're gonna go to JAIL!!"
"Hurry up and GO! You can LOSE HIM!"
Good grief.
"MOM, he's COMING OVER HERE!!!"
"He has HANDCUFFS!!"
"And a GUN!"
"But Mom I don't WANT you to go to JAIL!"

After assuring them I was not going to jail, we did the whole "what happened, were you hurt, do you have insurance, are the kids okay, here's your ticket, sign here" stuff. Meanwhile, the Kid calls his Mom cause I guess even if you have a driver's license you still need Mom to come back you up if a mother of two decides to put the smack down on you on Loop 322. So she shows up, all huffy and stuff, and says to the cop:

"So you were a witness, right? I mean, she's gonna get charged and not him, right?"
Oh good grief.
"Cause his Dad is really chewing him out right now and I don't want anyone to get blamed...."

So I apologize and she starts in with the 20 questions and the Kid tells me it's okay and leads his mother away.
Which is good, because I can TOTALLY smack some down.
With my mind, anyway.
So with a little Defensive Driving and a phone call, I'll be returned to my previously unmarred driving record.
Awesome.

Almost Killed My Cell Phone

So one day I got this AWESOME idea to get a few tattoos.
Okay, so I've had the idea for a while.
I've just been waiting for the right design to stumble upon.
And these are what I got......


The first are Littlest Pet Shop characters on my right shoulder with the kids' first initials.
The second is on my right hind hip, and is the same one my sister has inked on her body.
Cause you know, it's not enough to go through three months of barfing, six months of carrying around a moving watermelon, gaining ten pounds of water weight IN MY FEET, and then squeezing them out of a hole that NEVER should have been given that assignment....
you have to get shredded with a needle and ink pumping 254 m.p.h.
And squeeze your phone in an effort to redirect the brain's HOLY HECK THAT FRIGGIN HURTS!!! train of thought. I love them!

I PROMISE I Will Blog Soon

Go get a snack, have a Pepsi, crochet a blanket, babysit eight three year olds, entertain monkeys....

Whatever it is you do, come back after August 8th.

That's when Art "Appreciation" will end.

And I will have more time to blog/RANT.

T.