annieology

Over the Top? Me?

My duties as winner are the following: I must answer the following questions with single word answers, and then pass the award on to five more bloggers. Without further ado.

Your cellphone: cute
Your hair: cute
Your mother: crazy
Your father: quiet
Your favorite food: Chocolate
Your dream last night: none
Your favorite drink: Coke
Your dream/goal: Peace
What room are you in? Living
Your hobby: Writing
Your fear: Uselessness
Where do you see yourself in six years? Elsewhere
Where were you last night? home
Something that you aren’t: Skinny
Muffins: Chocolate
Wishlist item: Mac
Where did you grow up? Rozet
Last thing you did: Shopped
What are you wearing? Luckies
Your TV? Huge
Your pets? Dead
Friends? Abundant
Your life: full
Your mood: Pensive
Missing someone: Unfortunately
Vehicle: dirty
Something you aren’t wearing: socks
Your favorite store: hmmm?
Your favorite color: changes
When was the last time you laughed? today
When was the last time you cried? hmmm?
Your best friend? Tech-Support
One place you go over and over: preschool
Facebook:  Yep
Favorite place to eat: Home

OK so now I got to pay it forward:

Me – not me me, that would be a lot over the top giving myself an award.

Groovy Marlin – Because she’s funny, likes purple, broke her arm and like Me from above is left of center and I wanted you all to know that I’m fair and balanced.

Sadie because she’s PIMP funny and my fake lesbian fiance.   And not to make this all about Me from above,  so is Me.

Blog Brew Review because I think they are spot on.  Even though that phrase makes no sense.

and finally

June Gardens because she is PIMP funny, left of center and I’m hoping she plays along and links back to me because that makes for a very good day.

The Republican Response

So, was there a sale on yellow suits?  How did I miss this?  I want to be bright and sun shiny.  Which shouldn’t be hard, with all the sunshine being thrown around the room.

First, I love how they all applauded the fact that they ALL hated, HATED the bailouts.  Yes, the bailouts they all voted for.  Even though we told them NOT to.

Second, I realize that the whole State of the Union is nothing more than a love fest.  Obama spoke for 70 minutes and was interrupted by applause 86 times.  Rest assured when I am President, I will ask you all to hold your applause until the end, so that we can all get out of here already.

Then, I love how (a parenthetical quote) “we’re going to cut taxes on everything and everyone and cut spending and by we I mean I’m going to say it and you are going to have to find a way to do it”  but I’ll get the credit because that’s what Presidents do.

Also, since the environment is 23rd on the list of important things in the minds of Americans, it’s going to be a top priority.  We’re going to provide incentives, and by incentives I mean we have deep pocketed lobbyists that are going to get Congress to pass laws that favor them.  Then you won’t have a choice.

The news is already all a twitter about what the President is going to do.  Have we all forgotten how this process works.  He can say whatever he wants.  Kennedy said we’re going to put man on the moon, still took most of a decade.  Or as he said it “decayed”.

No matter what he said tonight, the legislative branch still needs to go in and do it.

So, it was a love fest of how wonderful everything is, or will be.  You, unless you are evil, will not pay taxes or have to worry about a job or health care in the coming years.  We will have peace on earth and your student loan will be forgiven.  God Bless America.

Things That Annoyed Me on Wednesday pt 2

You should probably prepare your drinks now, just sayin.

OK who screwed up.  Is it the person that spelled Wednesday or the person that taught us how to say it?  Either way, I hate it.  “Sound it out.”

Shut up Mrs. Tyler you should not be teaching first grade.

Mrs. Tyler was my first grade teacher.

Hated her.

She wouldn’t let me watch Snoopy’s Valentine movie because I screwed up my art project.   Um, wasn’t doing it on purpose.  I suck at art.

Anyway,

This morning I got an email that my hair person had an opening at 11 – which was not annoying.  It is brilliant.  When she has an opening in her schedule, I get an email and 20% off.   I get a deal and she doesn’t have an open slot.  Brilliant.

However, times are tough, and it has finally made it’s way up to my evil layer.  Shampoo boy was let go.  Um, excuse me?  Why would you let shampoo boy go?  He had magic hands.  Oh don’t worry, gay as the day is long, he knew a Dooney from a Coach.    But shampoo boy, if you are reading this, I’ll pay you to shampoo my head anytime.

Anyway, that annoyed me.

Also, as I am allergic to EVERYTHING, I am also allergic to the shampoo they used on me today, and my head is on fire, but my hair is cute.  It’s a dilemma.

Then there was a point where I looked in the mirror and went “oh that’s a super cute haircut” and then she just kept cutting.  It’s super sexy, but I really don’t have time for super sexy, so it’s going to look “so much potential wasted” as opposed to “wow!”.

Then, one of my children, who is five and not a  boy needs to go to AA.  She has a big problem with whine this week.  It’s affecting the rest of us.  Negatively.  Anyway, I’m thinking I will check myself into “rehab”.  Maybe Dr. Drew can help me.

Anyway,

I self diagnosed at least three different forms of cancer today.  I’m probably going to die, or at least have an ugly scar somewhere.   I don’t understand why I go from,  “hmm, that’s new”.  To. “Oh my gosh, I remember that I saw Dr. Oz on Oprah one time and he said that if I had one of those it was definitely cancer and I am probably going to be dead before I can get an appointment and if I had OnStar I would totally crash my car into a tree so that I could get a doctor to see me right away.”   Why?  I don’t know but it is annoying.  And I’m not a hypochondriac.  I just figure that I’m going to get cancer and die soon, all the time because I’m living the dream.    And for some reason you don’t get cancer if you are miserable and want to die, it only happens to people who have it all.  According to Lifetime Movie Network anyway.

It’s those anyway’s that I get past you, that make this way more fun for me.

There is a concert at an outdoor venue in a couple of weeks that I would like to see.  However, the last time we bought tickets before hand it was raining and cold.  I really don’t want to spend $100s to stand in the cold rain.

The teacher told the kids they had to buy Valentines for their friends and bring them to school.

Two weeks from now.  Do you know what I’m going to hear every 30 seconds for the next two weeks.  “We have to go buy Valentines for our friends.”  Why do people hate me so much?  It’s annoying.

anyway, that’s the short list.

I Finished My Book and Now I’m Depressed

Last week I was reading a book.  Best book ever, okay, that may be stretching it, but it was good. I loved reading it, looked forward to reading it, made excuses to read it.  Good.

I finished it.

It’s over.

It’s like someone broke up with me and I want to go spend time with them, but they are like “we’re finished, move on.”

So I said back,

“Yeah, well, I’m going to sit on my couch all day eating chocolate and watch TV.  That’s right. Tee Vee.  So there.”

Sure I know there are other books out there and what not, but I really liked that one.  I even picked out a few baby names, just in case.

Tomorrow I guess I could go to the library, or maybe Barnes & Noble, but what if we run into each other and someone else is reading it?

And I’ll be like, “oh I see you’re on chapter seven.  Chapter seven was good, but it was no chapter eight.”  I sense it will be awkward.  I can’t bear to think.  There’s also Amazon, but if I find THE book is that the story I want to tell the grand-kids?

I guess there is nothing to do except stay home and watch Million Dollar Listing and see if Chad has figured out he’s gay or not.  Yes, I realize he’s the one with the girl friend, but honey, he carries a dog around in a purse.  Gay!

I would totally punch Tech Support in the face if he brought home a dog in a purse.  I’d kick him in the balls if he made me sign a parenting agreement with him regarding said dog.  With an attorney.  Seriously.

“What I can’t hear you, I just downloaded that book off of iTunes. You and your purse-a-poodle will be very happy, now go….”

The Unintended Consequences of a Reasonable Bedtime

I came up with a brilliant plan.  You see, I have been left unattended this week, and I am drunk with power.  So I enforced a 7:30 bedtime last night.  And by “enforced” I mean, two of them passed out on the couches from boredom.  Seeing that they no longer out numbered me.  It was mano a mano and presumably, I could win.

Which I did.  Without the support from his compatriots Felpsy went down with only one lame excuse.

By 8:00 it was just me and the ten year old.  And he was in the middle of a science fair project which in some way ended up with my car needing to be jumped.  Who knows?  I wasn’t paying attention.

Big Boy was at church and when he came home I fixed my car and then sent him out to get me a Coke to ensure that my car would not be dead this morning.

Then I was bored.  I was still reveling in my brilliance when I myself was able to go to bed at 10:30 -

“IF YOU SEE YOUR NAME TOUCH IT WITH YOUR PEN”

Is what I heard at 4:45 this morning as the little boys powered up their very loud Leapsters.  My brilliant plan might have backfired.  Luckily the boys played quietly, but the damage had been done to my beauty sleep.

I had two hours until my alarm went off, and were I to let anyone on that I was awake, my day would start way too early.  So, I did the mature thing and pretended to be asleep.

Which worked, clear through my first alarm.  Yes, I had looked at the clock at 6:40 and instead of getting up and getting in the shower I decided to wait the five minutes until my alarm went off.  And I slept right through it.

Luckily, by the time I was up and out of the shower at 7:07 the boys were already (fighting) eating.  I had packed their lunches the night before.  That’s how bored I was.  So, really there was nothing more to do.  The school boys had bathed the night before, they had picked out their clothes. They were even dressed.

You will remember that I am a lazy parent.  I do not do anything for anyone that they can do themselves.  Which probably lacks the nurturing that is expected of mothers these days, but my 19 year old called me and asked to do a budget last week.  This puts her about a decade ahead of me in the “oh crap where is my money going?” department.

That being said, it’s 10:30 and I want a nap.

Mom of the Year

I want to be a great mom.  Happy and fulfilled by being a mom.  I want perfectly behaved children, at home and in public.  I want to find that perfect balance between nurturing them and turning them into responsible members of society.

I watch Super Nanny because she can get a child to behave in 30 minutes and I think that is just awesome.

However, I realized that I am going about this all wrong.  Discipline is hard.  It requires me to always be one step ahead of six different kids whose goal it is to out wit me.  I think they are winning most days because of the sheer numbers.  Currently there are only three kids in the house and it is quiet and peaceful.  Two of them have teamed up and are playing house.  The other is quietly playing his video game.  I am getting laundry done, I am installing dishwashers.  I am even making the bed and the thought has crossed my mind that I will bake cinnamon rolls later today.  Plus we are going to a friends house.

Anyway.

I have decided that there can never be more than three kids in the house at any time.  Yes that presents a problem, and is unrealistic.  So I got my brain to working on a new plan, and when my brain is working I tend to want to let it.  So I have to turn it off and watch tv.  Then I had my AHA moment while watching The Mentalist.  The kids don’t need more discipline.

I need to learn how to hypnotize them.

It’s brilliant.

I just plant in them some post hypnotic thing and when I set the trigger as “good morning” then when I wake them up, boom compliant children who are programmed to do what I say when I say it.

The enjoyment I have received from this idea is really disproportionate to the idea itself.

Now I’m off to use the Google and find out how to hypnotize children.   And more laundry.

Can You Hear Me Now?

No, it’s not about that.

It’s about five year old boys and walkie talkies.

Hilarity.

Boog received a pair of walkies for his birthday.  So excited was he that he threw me one and ran off.

“Mom can you hear me?”  He yelled from the bedroom.

Pressing my button, I instructed him to “push the button and then talk.”

He squawked it and again yelled, “Mom, can you hear me?”

“You have to HOLD the button down.”

I heard him open his channel but he didn’t say anything.

“Now say something.”  I yelled back to him.

He released his button and yelled back something to me.

“Press the button, hold it down, and talk, then let go of the button.”

He brought me his walkie, said “These aren’t any fun,” and walked away.

Anyway

Did anybody else get pulled out of class their sophomore year to get “tested” to see what they would be good at?  I think I was supposed to be a watch maker, or a candle stick baker, or something.  I cannot remember.  Because I “was gonna shake my ass, on the hood of White Snakes car” when I grew up, so I didn’t really pay attention that day.

I suppose I should have, because somehow I ended up staying home with six kids.  No way was I going to stay at home with six kids.  I love them, but they are more “consistency is the hobgoblin of simple minds” than Pioneer spirit.  And really, the same thing day after day after day after day?  I have been a parent for 19 years, that is way more than 1,000 days of the same thing.  Yes, there were times when I loved it, very brief times, with a very compliant child.  Of the nine kids I’ve parented for longer than a month, I have only gotten one compliant child.

Anyway…

You know, what would make my blog better?  If you made a drinking game out of it and drank a shot every time I said “anyway”  I say it a lot.

Anyway…

I am reading that book, that I won’t bore you with again, but if you are interested. Great book! And trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.  I wrote down a few things that I like to do.

• Tell stories.
• Make bread.

Then I wrote down what occupations might suit those desires well.  I came up with

• Story teller.
• Rock star.
• Wizard of Oz.

No really, that’s what I wrote down.  I will mail you my index card if you don’t believe me. (not that I could fabricate it after the fact)

Anyway…

Earlier in the week I had already decided that I wanted to work at Target and fold towels.  Two simple reasons, I need to not stay home with kids any longer. Plus, I love the rows of perfectly folded towels, color coordinated, neatly stacked.  So pretty.  Also, the third reason, is no one is really expecting much from the Target towel folder.  If I screw up the towels, well really,” she folds towels at Target and she’s almost 40.  There have been some decisions made somewhere along the line that got her here.”  So to sum up.  Low expectations, low risk, low drama.  No one is yelling, towels do not break.

Sigh.

For some reason, people expect more from parents.  I don’t know why.

But after reading that book, I decided that folding towels for minimum wage, might not complete me.  So, I looked at my interests list.  Tell stories.  Make bread.

“What if I could tell stories about making bread?”

Anyway…

Better idea now, huh?

But seriously, if I could make bread and tell stories all day.  That would be….wow.

Then last night, Tech Support said “Mr. B wants some bread for tomorrow, could you make some?”  Well, isn’t that lovely?  A sign from God.  Me feeling special because he’s multitasking, you think he’d be too busy in Haiti, but no, he loves me.   So, I decided to remember every detail, so I could tell a story about it later.

Anyway,

I owed Mr. B anyway, (ooh snuck that one in) as earlier this year I insinuated with my actions that he might be a girl.  So, I made him bread.  Great story huh?

It is all absolutely true.

Then, I went to the bakery to pick up petit fours for the twins birthday.  Shut up, I know they are five, but they are getting Shanda Cakes on Friday, they can deal with some petit fours.  For those of you who don’t know what they are, (Tech Support), think fancy Ding Dong.  Yes, I said it.  So, on the door of the bakery is a help wanted sign.  Hmmm?  Maybe.  Because then I could learn how to make petit fours and not have to buy them. EVER AGAIN.  Hmm?

But do you know how much full time day care costs?  For 2.5 children?  $1,300.  And one will only need after school care.  Yikes.  Things they don’t tell you in Lamaze.

If I did get a job at a bakery, I would just consider the day care to be tuition for me.  See if it’s something I might want to do when I grow up.

Anyway,

drink lots of water and take some aspirin before you go to bed tonight, and call a cab if you are going out, I don’t want to see your husbands/wives on the news saying “S/he never drank, I blame Annie and her anyway’s” when your loved one drives the wrong way down the freeway.

Anyway.

Things That Annoyed Me On Wednesday

Back by popular demand, my self righteous indignation to all of the toils and troubles of my life.

First, it was the twins birthday, which means it was NOT Felpsy’s birthday.  So every time he had a chance to steal the attention, he did.  And because he hates me, he’s not even having a birthday this year.  He came very close to not having a birthday every year.  He was three hours late from being born on Leap Day.  How cool would that have been?  Only having to throw a birthday party every four years.

Which brings me to

Gift bags.  Goodie bags.  Bags full of crap I didn’t want to buy to give your kids things you don’t want in your house.  HATE them.  That being said, since they are expected.  I made them totally awesome.  Anything worth doing is worth doing well.  Whatever.

Who was in charge of telling me about petit fours?  I did not get this message.  Apparently my mother failed to give me pertinent life tips.  YUM.  Although, every time I say petit fours, I wonder if my mouth accidentally said pedophile.

How’s that for a segue?

John Walsh, you are a nice guy.  You have done a lot of good in the world.  Your son was taken by a pedophile, in a mall.  He was not taken by foster parents who have had a license for SEVEN years.  Our state refuses to run them, but DFPS doesn’t care, and since it isn’t being funded by anyone, I am now supposed to go through yet another layer of beaurcrazy before I can get kids, that have lived with me for five years that DFPS brought me.  And now, since they didn’t do it when it became a federal blackmail tool, this is what is holding us up.  Talk to my attorney.

The twins are having their birthday party with their class mates on Friday.  In the morning at Chuck E. Cheese.  We have made this a little tradition in our school.  It occupies a day that our school aged kids are in school, which is invaluable.  Anyway, someone came up to me and said

“I’m going to have to decline, if that’s ok.”

No, actually, I DEMAND you rearrange your schedule to accommodate me and my children.  Sure I’ve written nasty things about you on the blog, but you may not decline to attend my children’s party.  You better be there, and I better love, LOVE your gift, and remember, there are two of them.

Which brings me to CPS.

They came to visit today.  Stopped by mid morning and asked where the kids were.  That would be school.  Where kids are during the day.  So, I send them of to the twins preschool.  I did not however think to give the school a heads up that it was just a visit.  Poor teacher thought CPS was stealing them away, on their birthday.  This is what happens when you talk smack about me.  Not really, it would have been nice revenge, had I though of it.

CPS part deux.  They drop by again to give me presents.  Not for the kids birthdays, but from Christmas.  2008.  No seriously.  The kids bio grandfather sent them gifts in 2008.  We got them today, thank you Papa Rico.  No wonder he doesn’t talk to me at visits, he thinks I’m a bitch.

I now have three CPS workers, the kids worker, the adoption worker, and the local worker who is supposed to be doing our homestudy.  All of them assume that one of the other of them is taking care of things.

Except no one is.

Which is annoying.

But the ice cream man was coming today.  I call him the ice cream man, even though he works for a company you would all recognize, but since he provides me with cigarettes, I don’t want him to lose his job or anything.  Anyway, I look forward to seeing him.  Because without him I would have to go to the grocery store more often, which I hate.  And just so you know, Tech Support has forbid me to bum smokes from the ice cream man, ever again.  Apparently when a girl bums a smoke, guys here, “hey baby” and well, Tech Support does not want any guy hearing “hey baby” from me.  I did not know this as I am not a guy.  But I got to thinking, if they here “hey baby” in re to smokes, would that not also be true for many other things?  I don’t know.  Like I said, not a guy.

So, temporary ice cream man has no clue what I want.  So I have to figure it out.  I don’t ever figure it out, I order the same crap I ordered last week and then he tries to sell me the special and sometimes I buy it and sometimes I don’t. Have I mentioned how rough I have it?

Then I forgot it was pay day.  Who forgets it’s pay day?  Besides me. Well, it is the foster money and the day Mama relinquished to us, the state dropped everyones levels of care because they were miraculously fixed. Praise Jesus.  Which is why Felpsy will get a piece of bread, seek me out and ask if I know where the toaster is.

The toaster is the SAME place it’s been since 2006 when we bought it.

When that got old, he now asks what’s a toaster.  Not it’s function and what not, but staring at the kitchen appliances on the counter holding a piece of bread and having to choose between the coffee maker and the toaster, he cannot decide which appliance is appropriate.  Either way, he is not cured of whatever it is that is wrong with him.  He is either oppositional or stupid, and he’s not stupid.  He’s been tested.  Stupid I can deal with.

Tech Support got an office out side of the house.  In a building down town.  Because apparently it is hard to code multimillion dollar websites when kids are yelling “wiener” all day.  His absence is an inconvenience for me, for instance, (everyday) when I can’t find my keys I cannot just promise to do naughty things to him if I can borrow his keys.  Now I actually have to find my keys.  Annoying.   Although, Tech Support being the ultimate knight, he got me a set of keys for Christmas.  (Actually, I asked, how rude would it have been for him to get me a gift like that?)  But the back up keys didn’t work.  Annoying.

I guess technically this last bit was on Wednesday, but you know how I told you that my husband had stopped sleeping with me? Anyway, he decided to try the bed out last night.  He went promptly to sleep, and HATES when I wake him.  So, I hadn’t slept with anyone for weeks and weeks, and was afraid I was going to disturb his sleep.  Which is relaxing.  Also, our dog is haunting me from the grave and my feet are covered with flea bites, so I itched, instead of dipping my feet in acid or scratching all the skin off, I decide to take a Benadryl.  Which long time readers will know, turns me into a drunken sorority girl in ten minutes then I pass out.   Except I got the generic.  So, not only did I still itch?  I also became jittery and paranoid.  I ended up sleeping on the couch.

And how was your day?

I SO Smarter Than Cave Man

Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away, but that was yesterday.

Anyway…

Yesterday, I was all set to install the dishwasher we just purchased.  Because I’m Handy Annie.  Also I love it.  If I could be a plumber, well never mind.  So I took the “dishwasher 90″ and I put it on the dishwasher and I tightened it, then I went to hook the hose up to said DW90 and well, discovered that I am not a man.  Hand tightening did not work.  Well, it was on, as tight as I could get it, but leaked.

Tools are for sissies.

So, being the Pioneer that I am, got bored and made Tech Support help me later, and guess who used tools?

I will let you draw your own conclusions.

Please don’t infer that Tech Support is a sissy.  No, don’t do that.  He explained to me, and by explained I mean he thought very loudly but didn’t say anything.  I’m a mind reader.

Tools are useful.  They are tools.  It’s implied.

And really I’m just eye candy.

I’m thinking of going with the diamond studded thong for the plumbers crack look for me.