I Checked Out, Y’all

Okay, so.  I haven’t been around in a while and I kind of feel like I owe you guys an explanation for that.


This year has been pretty crap-tastic so far what with my MIL’s cancer and my knee surgery.  There have been moments of pure awesome that I have thoroughly enjoyed thrown in there too but crap-tastic ruled there for a little bit.


This is a blog about my life and things that happen to me that I choose to share.  I felt like at the beginning of the year ALL I was blogging about was my MIL’s cancer. This AIN’T my MIL’s Cancer Blog. She is more than welcome to blog/write about her cancer if she so chooses but I didn’t want to turn my blog into that.  Also, her cancer brought some underlying problems with TWH’s fambly to the forefront and I was very angry for a while.  I didn’t write about my anger here because A) These were not MY issues to share and B) There are some folks in TWH’s fambly that I adore and I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings with my angry rantings. So I stepped away.  I didn’t put that here.


I hurt my knee in Zumba class & had to have that shit surgically repaired.  Because I’m either extra-awesome in the Klutz Department or I’m too spastic to be believed I managed to tear my ACL & Meniscus OFF which resulted in surgery.  Again, I was  little pissed off and full of self pity.  I talked about it on here but again, I didn’t write about it extensively because A) How much shit can I say about my bum knee. Really??  and B) I didn’t want to be one of those people who whine incessantly about my life to whomever will listen.  I deal with those folks on the daily at work and I never have jack-shit to say to them. Not because I lack sympathy but because I have NO IDEA what to say.  Honestly. I detest cliches and am never able to come up with something that sounds sympathetic but DOESN’T sound trite or contrived. So I stepped away. I didn’t put that here either.


There ARE some awesome things that have happened over the last few months. In March, I attended the SPQ weekend in Jackson, MS where I got my neck hugged by and got to hug the necks of so many people who are dear to me.   I got to see Miss A march in the Cherry Blossom Parade in Washington, DC in April.  We also got to spend a LOT of time together during my recovery. Time that we generally spent acting goofy and laughing at our own awful jokes while TB & TWH cringed.  I got to watch TB make me breakfast & see what a wonderful, caring young man he has become.  I got absolutely spoiled by TWH.  My cousin Ainsley sent me the GREATEST SOCK MONKEY SOCKS EVER. Not to mention upcoming trips I have planned with friends and Fambly.  I have high hopes for the remaining months of this year. I hope that they will be filled with more laughter, love and new wonderful memories.


THOSE are things I will tell you about.  I’m gonna try to come back from the void. To write more. To share more.  Hopefully, to make you laugh more.


I’ve been away for far too long.


I’m Scarring TB For Life (Episode # Eleventy-Seven)

Okay, so. Now that TB is firmly in the throes of Teenager-dom, I have begun knocking on his door before entering. Mostly to avoid seeing something that can’t be un-seen and that would probably initially horrify me even though I would make no end of fun of him later for it.


Anyway, this afternoon, I knock on his door and wait for him to let me know I have gained entry. When I walk into his room, instead of remaining seated at his computer desk as is customary, he has leaped from his computer chair and is standing at the door with his guilty face on.  I know it’s his guilty face because neither one of us can lie for shit and we have no kind of poker face.


I told him whatever I needed to tell him, then I almost walked out of his room.   the key word here being almost.


I had to ask about the guilty face.


Me: Why do you look guilty??  Are you looking at porn??


TB: What?!?!  NO..


Me: You know your Dad can check your browser history & shit so if you’re looking at porn or something else we wouldn’t approve of, you’d be better off saying so now.




Me: Then why do you have your guilty face on?? I know it’s your guilty face because I have the same guilty face. What the hell were you doing??  WHERE’S THE POO!?!?! (That’s a HIMYM reference BTW)




Me: I don’t believe you. I can’t prove otherwise, but I KNOW you’re up to something in here…


TB: Whatever…



Later, in a slightly sarcastic/slightly heartfelt attempt at busting him, I burst into his room without first announcing myself.


Me: HA!!!  You weren’t expecting me, WERE YOU!?!?!


TB: What are you DOING!?!?!


Me: Nothing. Here’s your backpack.



I’m keeping my eye on that kid for a few days….


He didn’t have his guilty face on for nothing.

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Ha Ha Cupcake

Okay, so. Many years ago, when TB was still in the single digits, he’d Nelson (from the Simpsons) “Ha Ha” someone when something unfortunate happened to them.

It. Drove. Me. NUTS!! I absolutely HATED it!! I reminded, and reminded, and REMINDED him not to say that to people. I thought it was hateful, and petty beyond measure.

One day, his class has gone on some field trip or other and I tagged along. When we arrived back at school, I checked him out. While I, and some other parents, were waiting for our offspring to collect their things and come to the office (we’re not allowed to go into the school during school hours here. We have to stay in the office) some kid in TB’s class was handing out birthday cupcakes. One little girl left the class before she got one and told her Mom she missed getting a cupcake. Her mom was busy telling her she could go back to the classroom and get one or she could get an alternative snack on the way home when TB walks in with his bag AND a cupcake. He immediately proceeded to say to the little girl. “I got a cupcake and you didn’t. Ha HA!!”

I saw red. I couldn’t believe how hateful my typically sweet, thoughtful, little boy was being by doing this.

I took action.

“Oh, Boogie!! You brought ME a cupcake!! How sweet!!” I exclaimed as I swooped down and plucked the cupcake from his chubby little hand.

TB looked at me like I’d lost my damn mind. “No Mommy. That’s MY cupcake”

I smiled at him and said “I’m sorry, but you lost this cupcake as soon as you were ugly to your friend because you got a cupcake and she didn’t. I’ve told you how nasty saying Ha Ha is and now you’re going to lose this cupcake because of it. Now let’s go get in the car”.

His principal saw the whole exchange and was valiantly trying not to laugh.

I have to say, here, that I had absolutely NO intention of eating the cupcake. I just wasn’t willing to let him have it because he’d been such a little jerk.

Then, we got in the car.

There was NO PLACE to put the cupcake!! None. I didn’t want to set it on the seat because I could just SEE me stopping suddenly and having to scrape icing off the dash and out of the carpet. I couldn’t put it in the cupholder because I’d have never been able to get it back out whole. I only had one option open to me at that point.

I ate the cupcake.

And it was GOOOOOD!!

I’m ashamed to admit that as I ate the cupcake, I extolled it’s yumminess to TB who was sitting in the backseat on the verge of tears.

“OH BOOGIE!!! I wish you could’ve had this cupcake!! This isn’t a bought -in-the-bakery cupcake!! It’s MOMMA MADE!!”

I felt kinda bad about that later.


We’ve never heard the snotty, derisive, HATEFUL “Ha HA” again!!

Life lessons people. You can nag, nudge, & prod until the cows come home but Life Lessons will work wonders.

“If you piss off your Momma, don’t be standing there holding a cupcake”.

Or DO be standing there holding a cupcake. It could be a lifesaver.


I. Am. The. Worst. Mom. EVER. (Part Two)

Okay, so. In another epic parenting fail I forgot my son at school today. See, he’s in the school band. He plays the Trombone for the Concert Band (7th grade). The school is participating in a Band Festival next week and his teacher has asked him to play the percussion for the Symphonic Band (8th grade). This means that his practices went from a couple of times a week to EVERY DAY.  Last night TWH & I were discussing who picked up TB when and we came to the conclusion that TWH was going to pick him up. Except we didn’t, apparently.
I’m with a client today when my phone rings. I answer it to hear TB on the other end piteously asking me if anyone was picking him up today. Oh. My. God!!!  I HAVE FORGOTTEN MY CHILD AT SCHOOL!! More accurately, TWH forgot TB at school. I frantically phoned TWH asking him Where. In. The. Hell. He. Was.  TWH seemed to be under the impression that I was picking TB up from school.
Once I ascertained that TWH was, in fact, on his way to retrieve our child, I got back on the phone to reassure TB that a parental type person was on the way.  TB at that point wanted to know what HE was supposed to do in the interim, how long it was gonna take, and what would happen if his teacher had to leave.  Now he’s just starting to milk it.  I tell him to see if his teacher could bring him home. TB turns away from the phone and I hear him ask, in the best “Oliver” impression in the last decade, if his teacher could PLEASE bring him home because his PARENTS forgot him.  At this point, his teacher gets on the phone and I have to explain that TWH & I are both big ol’ dumbasses who can’t remember when in the hell we’re supposed to get our kid and could he PLEASE do us a solid and give our kid a ride home. He agreed (Thankfully) and TB made it home in one piece.
My only consolation in all of this is that we only forgot OUR child. Some days we give TB’s bestie a ride home too. Thankfully, this was NOT one of those days.


I. Am. The. Worst. Mom. EVER.

Yep, you read it right. Worst Mom EV-ER.  I know every Mom has these thoughts but until you have almost knocked your child unconscious with your CAR, you don’t even begin to qualify.  Here’s the scene.  We pull into the driveway & It’s POURING rain. I have a carload of stuff that needs to be unloaded so TWH comes out to help. We make a couple of frantic trips back & forth in the downpour. My son grabs the last load & is trying to close the back of my Jeep but isn’t quite tall enough to get a decent grip on the hatch/lift gate. I tell him “I’ve got it” and grab hold and yank downward.  I hit my son in the head. I HIT my SON in the HEAD with part of my CAR!!  God, I’m almost crying typing this.  He stumbled, grabbed his head, and began screaming. TWH comes out, guides our screaming child inside as I follow behind screaming “Oh God!!  Oh God!!  I thought he was CLEAR!!” in that uber-helpful panicked Mom way. Thankfully, there was no blood which means no trip to the ER & the ridiculous amount of Guilt Gifts that would have followed. He’s gonna have a pretty good-sized bump though.  He is currently in his room with an ice pack balanced on his head playing on his computer (which I take as a sign that he is not concussed) and using my guilt to have me fetch him things. All is right with the world…

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