Forgot to mention - I don't typically have public outbreaks or cause a scene, but I found myself yesterday evening saying, loudly enough to cause stares,"I don't want to hear any more whining or I'll really start yelling and I don't care if I look crazy!" and then I apologized to our waitress, who graciously said she understood; I was taking them out in public, after all!
I don't do that kind of thing. What has happened to me!?!?
This will be the new house voting box. Srsly.
You CANNOT tell me that this didn't make you laugh.
Right?
This amuses me.
So now I'm gonna go out and start spray painting real signs. lulz.
I drink copious amounts of beer, except that dammit, the baby drank it all last week.
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I find myself very nearly at my wit's end. Boys have no intention of listening to mama / wife, no matter what I say / yell / scream / cry / beg / plead / bribe / ignore / do. Frustration abounds! In the beginning of the day, the big (daddy) boy and I can have a discussion / empassioned conversation about how important listening to me is, especially since I KNOW EVERYTHING DAMMIT. I mean, come ON, I've been staying at home with the chitlins since 2003, you'd think I know a thing or two about how to work the "off" button when one starts crying / screaming / whining / sneezing / etc., right? RIGHT? But apparently experience doesn't count when you're a man who has an ego so big that he doesn't even realize he has an ego. He says to me that he doesn't know how to help when he's supposed to help, and I say to him JUST ASK me, and somehow he forgets that he asked me the original question, then only processes the answer, and finally comes to the conclusion that I'm making him get permission, ftw! HA. And in his actions he implies that my time / needs / activities are less important than his because "no reel paychex, doodz!" which is entirely infuriating.
So after a midmorning discussion yesterday that looked promising (where we both decided we need to work on communication and listening to each other) to an evening of me being a good, kind wife and keeping the kidlets out of his hair while he did some late-evening Saturday work in return for my own late-evening Saturday work (if organizing Avon orders is work, right? And fixing a website? And adding scripts?!) Except that he forgot the part about "where Shelly hands off the kidlets and works on her crap for a while".
And he can't understand why I'm not talking to him today (even though I talked to him long enough to explain my reasons) and why I got so peeved when he told me to calm down.
Because yo, I'm cool as a cucumber. Holing up in the bedroom and declaring it off limits from everyone can do that to you.
I am considering doing it tomorrow.
Stolen from Auntlada
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I'll start with the smart-ass answer. "Beauty is in the eye of the beer holder". Hahahaha.
But really, what is beauty?
... waking up next to your son when he's crawled into your bed, scared of the storm.
... the smile in your daughter's face when you walk into the room.
... just a few moments to hold your husband's hand
... the peaceful silence during naptime
... pouring the first glass of milk from the jug just for you
... a fresh pot of coffee in the morning
... being told "i love you" after you've gotten frustrated with your son
... the scent of a freshly-mowed lawn
... dinner with friends you haven't seen in a while
... movie night with the kids
... the sound of the leaves blowing in the trees on an early autumn day
...
...
...
Beauty is taking the time to see your life for what it really is. Beautiful.
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As some of my readers know, Craig and I went to the new Kansas City Sprint Center last night for a private event. There was free food and entertainment, plus it allowed us to get in and see the center, which was interesting, since the grand opening was just on Saturday. The entertainment was country music star Miranda Lambert. Woo.
Some of you may know JUST HOW MUCH I HATE COUNTRY MUSIC. Seriously. I would poke out my eardrums if I had to. Needless to say, I wasn't really looking forward to the show, no matter how popular or talented she was. And wouldn't you know it, we had floor seats, second section (right in the middle of the floor) eleven rows back from the stage. I have never PAID for concert tickets that good, folks, yet here I get them free, for a country musician I didn't even want to see. So, as she took the stage, we took to the stairs and wandered around before leaving.
Not to say we didn't have fun. Both kids were with sitters for the evening, and it was our first night out together in 4 1/2 months. Really. That was nice in itself, for the most part. The food was mediocre, but that's what we expected. The real fun was going in to find our seats, being pleasantly surprised about the location, and THEN noticing two large screens suspended over the arena floor prompting guests to send text and picture messages to the number and email address listed, and possibly getting them shown throughout the arena. We spent a great deal of the evening behind two trendy looking girls who would go "awwwwwWWWWWWWWWW!" after every cutesy message like "juli will u marry me paul" and "dad ur the greatest thx for bringing me". One of the girls had pants-gap, and Craig dared me to put a Passion Parties business card in there. I declined, citing lack of cute panties as the reason.
Let the fun begin, I said!
So here's a rundown of what I spent my evening texting:
That does not include two photo messages. Text messages that were NOT sent included:
Extra credit if you can attribute the quotes / paraphrasing 
....
the list goes on and on. I kept myself entertained, that's for damned sure.
By the way, Bran is into rhymes now. He asked my dad if "dammit" and "hammit" rhymed. You've got to give him some credit.
And for anyone venturing out to the Sprint Center - I wouldn't know much about parking. We got VERY lucky and parked in a lot right across the street. Only 3 cars were let in after us.
The end.
more funny pictures
It was a rainy cold weekend here in KC, but we still went to the Ren Fest on Saturday, just a little later than we'd have liked. It was a muddy, gooey mess. But it was fun. Thanks to Acorn7 for the help, especially while we were at the archery range. Bran is now looking forward to getting a little crossbow and having target practice at the lakehouse with my dad.
For the rest of you, we went to the archery range to visit with some friends. They got permission to be the ones to show Bran how to shoot, and my father shot next to him. My dad used to bow hunt when I was Bran's age, actually, and was an accomplished archer. He has some very nice compound bows at home, and now he's very excited to be able to teach my son all about it.
As I said, it was a muddy mess. Cold, too. The baby loved it, and spent the day in an old baby carrier I used to use with Bran. She even fell asleep in it, riding between my boobs, gazing at the crowds. She's become almost an easy baby! Bran had a grand old time playing in the muddy water - it was one of the few times he could do it without getting into trouble! As much as I love the festival, the day was all for him, so we didn't see many things we adults wanted, and that's just fine by me!
A funny aside: we were watching a fire-eater, and I must note that my children are in awe of flames. So Bran was watching him eat the flames, and asked us "does the fire come out in the toilet?", which we decided was a very astute question for a 4-year old. We took him up after the show to ask the performer that same question, to which he replied that he often felt the heat, but no fire, especially after chili. Bran didn't get the joke, but we sure did!
He rode in a huge swing twice, and I got plenty of photos, which I will upload and let my protected subs view later. Too bad for the rest of you!
Tonight, we're going to some show at the new Sprint Center downtown. Our VERY FIRST NIGHT OUT without at least one of the children. I'm so excited I'm about to pee myself. In fact, I've even POLISHED MY NAILS. Well, a new Avon order arrived, and I bought myself some new nailcolor, so that's why. HOLY CRAP I'M EXCITED and there's a country band playing. Good god I hope they have beer, because I hate country music. BUT I'm getting out of the house!
That's all for now, I'm fucking up my nail polish.
EDIT: The entertainment is Miranda Lambert. We found her website, and listened to some of her music. Someone please gouge my eardrums out STAT.
From the Wikipedia entry:
Lolcats are images combining photographs of a cat with a humorous and idiosyncratic caption. The name "lolcat" is a compound word formed from lol and cat.[1][2] The phenomenon is also referred to as cat macros.[3] Lolcats are created for photo sharing imageboards and other internet forums. Lolcats are similar to other anthropomorphic animal-based image macros such as the O RLY? owl,[4] but the cuteness of cats "enhances"[5] the appeal and increasing prominence[6] of the Internet meme.
The term lolcat gained national attention in the United States when it was covered by Time magazine, [7] which wrote that non-commercialized phenomena of the sort are increasingly rare, stating that lolcats have "a distinctly old-school, early 1990s, Usenet
feel to [them]." The superimposed text is assumed to be uttered by the
cat in the photograph. The poor grammar makes this seem more authentic,
since the reader makes the assumption that "if cats could speak, then
it would be in this kind of broken English". There are parallels with
the language used in Lolcats and baby talk, which owners of cats often
use when talking to them.
Basically, lolcats are cute funny photos of cats with humorous, lame, stupid, insipid, or downright bizarre captions. I believe I was turned onto lolcats by Smarticus, who, I must admit, is waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay funnier than me. I wonder if she thinks the same of me? But I blame her. I blame her for introducing me to Caturday. Now, every time I take a photo, I wonder if I could somehow turn it into lolbaby/preschooler/husband/squirrel. Then you can't forget the lolrus (and his quest for his bukkit) ....it goes on and on and ON. Of course, I've been tagging my photos for years, but it wasn't until recently that I had more...something. Because the word currently escapes me. But I'll keep on taggin' the photos, keep on posting my favorite lolcats, and you'll keep on rolling your eyes at me.
I heart caturday.
And I'm in ur base, killing ur doodz.
I forgot to add: strangely enough, I find myself saying, out loud, in public, "Jesus Christ, it's a lion! Get in the car!" a lot.
Yes.
How do I deal with it?
dajklfjapreuqiofjdskljfakjgjfnbknrpeur09qwutigjaklgndkl.
Nope, that didn't work. Be right back.
(Brief pause, after which, writer returns.)
Nope, that didn't work, either.
(Sounds of screaming in the background. Is it a cat, the writer, or an alien from the planet Xenthar singing love songs to his mate?)
Not that, either. Hmmm. This is starting to get ridiculously annoying. (taps foot impatiently). WAIT! I HAVE AN IDEA!
(paper shuffling, scratching of a pencil and rubbing of an eraser is heard)
EUREKA! Phew, thanks for helping me out. I feel much better now.
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