Thanksgiving, thus far. 

I get up at before the butt crack of dawn to start this Turkey, it’s not dawn for a few hours yet. 

My grandma desperately needs a humidifier. 

Grab a juice. Get turkey in the oven. 

Go back to bed. Now as I’m laying in bed I realize the the feeling of getting stabbed in the heart by an ice pick. What is this.. Am I hungry? 

Oh, right that’s heart burn. 

Thanks 100% juice Capri Sun. 

Someone’s getting a humidifier for Christmas.

The Death of My Facebook

The fact is this has been a long time coming. I hate Facebook. I’ve hated it for a very long time. I’ve been slowly removing myself from it for over the past years, only on occasion showing something that the children are doing.

There is no discussion on Facebook. It’s just a bunch of people shouting at each other with no discussion or communication. I can honestly say that the actual conversations I’ve had with people on FB I can count those people on one hand. I can also say that those people I’ll keep in contact with if I’m not FB or not.

Sadly, on my part I can’t delete the thing completely. I’ve found after I deactivated it that I have too many other things connected to my FB profile that I like the convenience. I really have no desire to re-start a Target Cartwheel account, so I’m stuck with a slightly unused FB account.

In an effort to stay more connected with friends and family I’m going to do my best to put more up on this blog, but let’s be quite honest, I have no time for anything.

I left my household responsibilities and got out for a few hours with friends, a very rare occasion. It was fantastic. Adult conversations! But, now my house is destroyed, and I have a pile of things to deal with on a Sunday.

Point being I’m not too optimistic of actually getting regular postings out about stuff that it happening, but hey, it could happen.

 

It’s summer time! 

And with summer time comes trips to grandma’s house and all the random things that happen. It’s been a few years since any updates. That’s because of babies and life (I’m also on mobile so please excuse the shitty typos). The only time I have to sit and write is when the baby is sleeping on me, all other time is dedecated to chores. 

There is another baby in the mix. 

Look, there he is, I just took that! 

Traveling with three kids is a pain in the ass. I hear of other parents going on vacation with small children, to them I raise a glass, because fuck that shit. The only over night I do is my grandma’s it’s still a hassle and a half and it’s only 45 minutes away and a grocery store is about a mile away.

The Husband was supposed to be out of town for the weekend causing drunken shenanigans in Chicago for a friends bachelor party, but during the course of the week he got a job interview scheduled for 8 am on Monday 😮. After some decision time he decided it was best to be the responsible adult and stay home to make sure everything was set. Since he was supposed to be gone I decided to take the kids to my grandma’s because I could either sit at home and be irritated by my children’s whining for 72 hours driving me to the brink of sanity or I could take them to grandma’s where they will draw her a million and one pumpkins and rainbows, and grandma will talk about the scrawlings like they are Da Vinci’s “The Last Supper.” Since Husband was now home it became a day trip and he tagged along. 

We get there and the first thing grandma tells me is that she drank one (1) of my beers, which were really not even mine but my husband’s as I don’t really drink beer. I told her that she can have all the beers she wants, but she was stressed about this one beer and tried to force one of her beers on us. The only beer in the fridge was a Redd’s Apple Ale, which my mom brought, the Lemon Shandy’s we brought (the beer that was drank), and a case of Miller Lite that I had just picked up for the Husband. 

The question then became is grandma’s beer the Lemon Shandys or some mystery beer…maybe located in the house fridge? She tends to have some Rolling Rock stashed away. Did she go buy a six pack of the Shandy’s and drink them all or did she think she has beers but was actually out for some time? I could have asked but 1) I don’t want to give the impression that I care about the one beer, because I don’t and 2) I don’t want her to think I think she’s loosing her mind (which she is), so it’s now the beer mystery. 

She said “You gave me a taste of that beer you brought and it was just so tasty I just had to have one.” This to me says that it’s time to pick up the Leinenkugel shandy sample pack! 

As a matter of fact, I do!

Fact is I am a nerd, and I wear it proudly. I’m quite old enough to not give any shits about what other people think I should be in-to. My major “nerdisms” is in “fantasy.” Which, I’m sure is why I’m a huge fan of Star Wars because I need my space saga with a touch of magic. (Really, what do you think the Force is, it’s magic.) I also happen to be way into comics. Marvel comics. DC is cool but I just never got in to many of their story lines.

After years and years of trying to make it to (any) comic con and never being able to make it due to other events I decided this year I was going to go and drag the whole family along. My husband, who is some how stuck in the phase of pre-pubescent caring what other people think about you and might make fun of you about it said that he would go but refused to dress up. I happen to be relating this to a group of lady friends of mine about how he won’t dress up. All of them who are not particularly into comics or pop culture all responded with “Isn’t that half the fun!” Well, yes, yes it is.

Of coarse them being a group of my friends naturally asked what I was going to dress up as, and I told them a Jedi Librarian like Jocasta Nu. Thanks to the advent of smart phones pulled up a photo and showed them.

Eventually as the night wore on another joined our party and conversation turned to their possible impending engagement and how they want to go to Vegas and get married by Elvis. One of the other ladies asked and how does the man feel about this? The soon to be engaged said “oh. Him, I’m sure he’d prefer a Jedi, but who the hell just has a Jedi costume laying around.”

To which the entire table then erupted in a bit of laughter and pointing.

Happy Friday!

This week has been another back to work week! I freelance graphic design. My bread and butter client, more like my only client. They keep me busy enough that I really can’t take on much other work. A nice set up but also somewhat scary if they ever decide to drop freelancers (discussions more on this later).

I have spent most of the week thinking “how the hell am I going to handle this with three kids at home AND trying to work.” It’s not just the three kids but that one of them is only two months old at the moment and likes to eat all the time. Very time consuming. I figure that something is going to have to go to shit, as it stands right now it’s going to be the cleanliness of my house and having homemade cooked meals. Looks like Husband will be on the job with Hamburger Helper.

The tree is still standing in the house. Dying. I gave up watering it about a week ago. The decorations have been removed so now we just have a dying Fraser Fir hanging out in the living room. Unfortunately due to my current projects, Husbands overtime and juggling an infant the tree is just going to have to wait until we can both have a moment to take it outside. It takes two people to remove the tree, not that it takes very long but one person needs to hold it up as the other unlocks it from the stand. I’m sure it could be done with one person but I don’t have any desire to have a half-dead tree fall on me when trying to unlock it from the stand.

I have big things planned for this year, I also know full well not all of it will get done. Time and money make it impossible but it’s not for me to not try to do it all. I would love so much to get the kitchen done this year, but that is a rather big financial endeavor and it’s not a project we’re going to tackle ourselves. We also have the bathroom to fix up, which needs new cabinets. The rest I think I can fix with a bit of wall patch (hopefully), but at least it’s not a total down to the studs fix. The garage door needs replacing. Husband finished that off when he tried to “fix” it. And we need new trim in the hallway (and possibly the living room). And we need a new snowblower, thankfully the winter has been virtually nonexistent so I haven’t needed to worry about that expense. At some point we really should get the underground sprinkling fixed. It hasn’t worked properly since we moved in, 9 years ago! It worked, sort of, then Husband decided he was going to winterize it himself. That did not work out. It exploded. We had to get a new regulator deal but it leaked like a sieve, so it got turned off to be dealt with the next summer. However, that summer came and went and several others and various updates to the landscaping happened, so it’s more like needing a new system than a simple fix.

 

And we’re back! 

 

gray striped cat sitting on lap

This cat has nothing to do with this post, just a cat photo.

 
It’s been over a year since I’ve bothered to blog. Life, that pesky thing that gets in the way of doing stuff, that happened. It’s time to be back. Many things have happened in over a year, a new baby (just recently), new work, many many house projects, ample family food stories, a cat on a daily Xanax prescription. We keep things interesting. 

I look forward to sharing our newest adventures (adventures   that happened to be contained in our house because we never actually go anywhere).

More Visits To Grandma’s

This summer has been a doozy. I’m glad it’s done. Truth be told I’m looking forward for this supposed polar vortex brining snow at the end of September. However, like all things weather related, I’ll believe it when I see it.

This year we went to Grandma’s almost every weekend, at least for a day if not the entire weekend. Both fortunately and unfortunately our visits did not result in as many food instances and prior years. I think the constant nagging from all family members has started to have some affect. That’s not to say there were not a few moments that must be shared!

The sour cream happening:

I went to grab the sour cream from the fridge. I opened it and it had one scoop out of the middle but the side was all moldy. I was sad. I had a left over burrito from one of the best burrito places ever. It’s Jimmy’s Roadhouse in Newago, Mi. So good, and that’s saying quite a bit because one of the most famous burrito joints is just down the street from where I live.

When I saw the mold I went “Oh no, it’s moldy,” and my expression was that of a ballon deflating. Grandma stated that the sour cream was new. Husband goes “That happens in this kind of weather,” which it does. When it’s hot and muggy things just spoil. I took the sour cream and trashed it promptly, mostly because I didn’t want to find Grandma trying to salvage the moldy sour cream, which she would.

On my way to the trash can I decided to take a look on the expiration date on the sour cream. It was 7/31, the sour cream instant happened 9/1. I’m sure that Grandma had just opened that sour cream and it was “new” however it most likely sat in the fridge for a few months. The expiration time on sour cream is ridiculous! I picked up a sour cream a few weeks ago and the date on it is for mid October! There is a very good chance that this sour cream was purchased in May. It was probably a deal buy one get one that she picked up to save some money. However it doesn’t save anyone any money if it just goes back because it’s never going to get used up in time. My mom has started doing this kind of “deal shopping” too, at least in my mom’s case she has a person who falls into the catorigor of “Shit YEAH, I’ll take free food!” (That’s me!) So, my mom saves no dollars and I save dollars. *shrug*

Then There was the potato incident.

We got to visit grandmas just this past weekend. We were the first ones to get there. Typically my mom will be up at my grandma’s for a few hours before we can get ourselves packed and out the door. Grandma for some reason likes to keep the house locked up tighter than Alcatraz. This results in a rather stuffy and somewhat smelly house. Let’s face it, old people just don’t smell the best.

I go in and unload our stuff to where we would be sleeping. I noticed that it kind of smelled like garbage/poo. I’m all “uhhh, this house needs to be aired out!” I open windows and put some fans in the door. Then for some strange reason I decided to walk into the pantry. I took two steps in and started gagging, fanning my face and saying “Potatoes! It’s the potatoes!”

My mom and Husband were looking at me like I was crazy.

My mom, was the funniest she walks into the house and claims “That’s shit! It smells like shit, not potatoes!”

No, it’s potatoes. Ever smelled rotten potatoes, don’t. It’s awful. Potatoes as they rot don’t just decompose into nothing they turn into this pile of watery mush that stinks worse than you’re cat’s worst bowel movement. Not only is there rotten potatoes but rotten potato water that will not be contained in some sad hole-y potato bag.

Potato water, everywhere.

The panty is carpeted.

I grabbed a plastic bag, made Husband hold it as I picked up the bag of rotten mushed potatoes and potato sewage and put it in the plastic bag. I then ran out of the room, to the outside gagging.

Small one saw me and asks “What you doing mommy?”

“Puking, honey, I’m puking.”

I few moments I hear what is she doing, to which Small one resounds, “Mommy’s puking out back.”

We tried our best to soak up the potato sewage but all three of us couldn’t handle it for more than 30 seconds to a minute at a time. Amazing that the amount time we could stand being around the pantry was also the amount of time one could hold their breath from the breeze way to the pantry and back.

Eventually we gave up on the hazmat operation and just left the door shut and sprayed a bunch of air fresher.

Later that weekend my mom brings up the rotten potatoes to Grandma (this all took place as Grandma was out at church/dinner with her friends). When mom tells Grandma that her potatoes were rotten Grandma says,

“Those potatoes were brand new! I just bought them!”

“No, mom, potatoes don’t rot over night, you did not ‘just buy’ them.”

“oh…well they were a buy one get one deal…”

“so you bought two, you don’t even eat potatoes, why would you need two [10 lbs] bags?”

“…, they were new.”

Ever the Drama Queen

Grandma likes the drama, she even likes to manufacture it when she can. Most of us are on to her antics.

Grandma has assisted care insurance plan which pays a portion of any assisted living costs or nursing home costs. Back when she was in assisted living I was over getting her stuff for her taxes to drop them off to her tax person. When I was there she whips out this letter, which is about a month old. She asks me to read it and wants to know what it means. I read it. It says that the nursing home hasn’t sent in their paper work. I ask if my mother has seen it, or her sister (my aunt). My grandma says “I don’t know maybe, I don’t think they did.” So first off I tell Grandma that if my mom hasn’t read it that she needed to show it to my mom. I get some flippant remark about how she won’t do anything. The whole story I’m being fed just seems a little fishy, so I snap a photo of the letter and text it to my mom. A few moments later I get a phone call from my mom. I end up calling my mom back after I leave Grandma’s. Turns out this letter which says she might get denied (start the whole process over) if the nursing home doesn’t get in the paper work has been getting whipped out to every relative that comes to visit for the past month. My aunt called then nursing home and gave them the what-for and got it handled. There was also a follow up letter that stated the paperwork had been turned in – that letter never got pulled out for random relatives to read.

Months go by, the insurance company needs other various paper work and letters and whatever else, now Grandma is out of the assisted living center and back at home. She gets a letter that was delivered to my mom’s house from the company. Grandma reads the letter out loud…

“…..As a reminder to continue to issue refunds for your care and you are still in a care facility we need monthly billing statement sent do us. If you have not already you should receive your insurance checks soon….”

Grandma puts down the letter and starts yelling

“THOSE BASTARDS! I KNEW THEY WERE GOING TO SWINDLE ME OUT OF MY MONEY!”

Uh?

“I’m canceling my plan, this is bull. Those bastards taking my money all these years just to keep all of it.”

Husband is giving grandma the raised eyebrow. I’m in the other room laughing. My mom is just looking at her exasperated. My mom then tells Grandma to re-read the letter. Grandma is affronted. WHY?

Read the letter. Read what you just read.

Grandma re-reads the letter starting from the beginning, when she gets to the portion about needing monthly statements if she is still in the living center she puts down the letter and once again states “SEE! They won’t give me my money!” My mom then looks at her and says “What did the stay…that it’s a reminder if you are still in the home…and that you will be reining your checks shortly.”

*pause*

‘OH! HAPPY DAY! I’M GOING TO GET MY MONEY! I’m sorry I called them bastards, they are angels, just the sweetest people ever!”

Then my mom and I left to go buy a grill that doesn’t double as flame thrower. A flame thrower that shoots flames at the person trying to grill.

We get back and I hear from my husband that the entire time we were gone all she did was tell him that she was rich and that they were the best people ever, and she was sorry she called them bastards. (She’s so NOT sorry she called them bastards.)

Allowances

The older child LOVE’s My Little Pony. For Easter I bought them each, the older and the younger one a large stuffed My Little Pony. They each got a pony and a package of Play Dough, considering the ponies were $20 a piece I’d say it was a pretty awesome gift. The older one got an Apple Jack and the younger a Fluttershy. The younger one at that time didn’t really care about ponies, only slightly into them because big sister thinks they are awesome. I bought the younger one the least liked pony of the older one in the hope that this would stop any “I want Fluttershy!” issues.

Hahahahahaha! Nice try mom, but it was a failure none the less. I then spent the next month hearing “You go to the pony store and buy me a Fluttershy.”

Uh. What?

After awhile that started to royally piss me off, like well aren’t you just little miss entitled. This also came after a series of broken toys that ended in “You go to the X store and buy me X toy [I just broke].”

Oh…child, we’re going to learn about money and that you have to work for money to buy things you want.

I started giving her tasks to do to earn quarters. She’s 3 so it’s not like I can send her out to mow the lawn however, that would be awesome if I could. She got tasks of sorting the flatware from the dishwasher. It pays a quarter. Moving the laundry from the washer to the dryer, that also pays a quarter. The best paying job of them all is when I need the little one out of my hair for a bit and then I’ll say “I’ll give you a dollar if you entertain Babes for 30 minutes.” To be honest, I very rarely have to pay out that dollar, she never makes it the full amount of time.

The younger one realized that the older one was getting money, and she also wanted money. Amazingly the younger one is better at staying on task than the older one but is quite limited in their ability of jobs they can actually do. I can get the younger one to transfer laundry quite well, but I have to supervise closely or half the laundry gets dragged across the dirty laundry room floor on the way to the dryer. I figure that’s worth a quarter.

I also started giving them a weekly allowance, it’s a dollar a week. It’s so funny and cute because I will ask them if they want their allowance for the week the little one who does not speak will come running up and stick her hand out. Once she gets the dollar she has to run upstairs and then points and grunts to where her money jar is located. We get the jar down she take it, stuffs her dollar in, then hands the jar back and points back on the shelf. That’s her way of saying “put it back.”

The earning money thing has ended the whole “You go to the store and buy me [insert random item].” Now when I hear that I tell them, i can take you to the store and you can buy it with your own money you earned.” She will stop and think for a minute and then say, “No, I think I want a pony still.” Success!

It’s also had the added benefit of math, because now I have to sit around and explain to them fractions. For some reason money seems to be easier for them to grasp than baking.

Edit:

This earning money thing has also helped in getting the child to understand when mommy has to work at night (since I work at home) and why daddy has to go away each day, “to earn money, so we can afford stuff, like a house.”

A good ol’ fashion-ed rant

I’m highly caffeinated so it seems like a good a time as ever to post a good old rant about something extremely trivial.

You know what I hate.

Plus size clothing.

What a random thing to hate.

I shop those deal sites, like Zulily, daily. It’s window shopping on my phone. Window shopping I actually get to do because I can’t go out and do any parusing at a real store. Not with two small children in tow. Shopping is one part mother hen and the other yelling “Don’t lick that!” at the children. Oh and the random “I gotta go potty,” in the middle of the store with a cart full of that mammoth box store and you just happen to be on the complete opposite side of the store.

Ah, good times.

That leads my looking at clothes to these sites and they tend to have at least one “plus size” feature of the day. Almost every day I look at the section and I think “What women in her right mind would wear that hideous outfit?” It’s like the designers all got together and said “Hey fat girl you need 5,000 yards of fabric to cover those rolls.” I swear theses plus sized cloths look like they look some drapery and just pinned it around and called it good. Large balloon-y outfits with millions of layers don’t make anyone look good, least of all someone with a bit of curves. Unless maybe a wedding gown and I’m still not on board with that trend.

There is way cute stuff out there for every body. Don’t settle for frumpy un-flattering outfits. Unless it’s raining and watching movies on the couch in pajama pants.

Next up on random rants about clothing, bikini’s for little girls. Talk about over sexualizing children, people complain about toys, but yet’s parent’s are cool with putting a small child in overly “sexy” triangle top and string side bottoms? We try and tell our daughters to love and respect themselves but buy clothes that are reminiscent of the 20-something college scene, seems the two are just a wee bit at odds with each other.