new links

if you'll take the time to glance over to the right, you'll notice two new links.

The first is an awesome parent-vent spot, paRANTing.net it's where I go to be a bitchy momma.

The second is a list of 50 things you never wanted to know about me. Enjoy.

baby it's cold outside

Turn on our local news and you are hit with a barrage of barely-hanging-onto-their-panic newscasters, warning us that the "ARCTIC CHILL IS UPON US!" One weatherman even went as far as to say that, "we're experiencing temperatures of biblical proportions." Really? Because I must have been sleeping during the Blizzard of Jerusalem story in Sunday school.

Really though, it's pretty chilly out. As I type, my handy-dandy, nailed-to-the-outside-post thermometer tells me it's about 9 degrees out. Throw in the wind chill factor and we're looking at below zero temps, people. Brrrrr.

What's the deal with the wind chill factor anyway? Why can't they (the weather powers that be) factor this chill in and just say that the temperature will be -11. And really, after you hit about 20 degrees or so, can anyone really tell the difference in cold? I didn't think so.

My kids and I are going a little stir crazy. I mean, you can only bundle up and walk around WalMart so many times, right? We pass by abandoned playgrounds, wistfully gazing out the car window, really missing that California sunshine. Soon, I tell Lexie, soon you will be able to see green grass and run as far as those chubby little toddler legs can carry you.

criminal

pssst.

over here.

I said PSSST, internet. Wanna know a secret?

I'm a wanted woman. Really!

And by wanted, I mean by the county courts of Kent, Washington. Seems this little blogger has a warrant out for her arrest. Yes, I will hang my head in shame now.

Seems back in the day when I was partying like a rock star I got caught shoplifting. How I could forget something like that? I don't know. But, it's true. My bestest rock star-like buddy and I got caught stealing bathing suits and sun glasses. From Sears, of all places. I was 19.

Looking back, I can now remember some of the hazy details. It was summer, unbelievably hot out and we wanted to go swimming. But alas, all the drugs we had been doing had caused us to lose too much weight. Our old suits just didn't fit. What's a drugged up hippy to do? Why pick up something new, using the old five-fingered-discount, that's what. Stupid. So stupid.

See kids, this is why drugs are bad. Not only do they rot away your brain, they cause you fits of uncontrollable stupidity where bad ideas seem great.

How did I find out about the warrant? Good question. Seems the pesky legal trouble made itself known during a routine back ground check for this house S and I wanted to rent. This was back in August. They just called Friday to let us know we couldn't rent. Thanks buddy for that timely response.

I've made some calls and found out that I need to write the judge and beg for him to take pity on me and let me deal with this out-of-state. The nice clerk I spoke with said the judges are usually lenient on first time offenders, especially if said offenders grovel. Maybe she didn't say that, but that's what I heard and that's what I'm going to do. Grovel like I've never groveled before.

I hope this doesn't make any of you think worse of me than you already did. I'm taking the opportunity to use this to my advantage. See, I'm more like a rock star now than I was before. I'm a hardened criminal. Just please don't make me do time.

rambling on and on

-is it wrong that I not-so-secretly hope that Brad and Angelina's baby is ugly?

-I not-so-secretly hope that Paula Abdul falls off her chair every time I watch American Idol.

-Don't you think that after 10 freakin' seasons of Survivor, one of those loser contestants would come on the show and know how to make FIRE without needing the flint. I mean, hello, did no one watch Brat Camp where teenager, angry and mean teenagers, learned how to make the sparks using rocks, string and twigs. Jeez.

-What is going on with Locke on LOST? I know that shifty baldy is up to something.

-Speaking of LOST...why do I scream at the TV while watching it?

-Why is the Bachelor still on? This is the most pathetic show I've ever seen. How desperate do you have to be to compete in this one?

-Why do I watch so much TV?

-Why don't I have a life?

-Why does Lexie have to ask me what everything is when we go to the grocery store?

-Why am I asking so many why questions?

dial up

well, here I am. Blogging away in the comforts of my own home. The only drawback? Dial-up. Can we say slow?

I actually had internet access two days ago, but with how hinky the connection has been, I've been cramming in more time on my mommy-bitch board than on blogs. I know, I know...I'm sorry. I promise to read and comment soon.

My poor Emmie's butt is all aflame. Seems she had some nasty diarrhea in the night and it burned her tender tushy. I cry right along with her during diaper changes. Poor honey.

Lexie's good. Into EVERYTHING. In fact, as I type this I can hear her trying to get the DVDs off the entertainment center. Ha, good luck with that. Seriously, poor girl has had anything climbable banished to the back patio. She is super quick and will climb anything and everything to get what she wants. AGH.

I'm good. I hurt my knee sitting down on my bed. Explain that one to me.

S is good. Working, working and working some more.

So that's a progress report for you. Now, off I go.

Super Sunday

well, half-time has come and gone and the 'Hawks are sucking ass. Go team.

I hate football. Not the game itself, but the way S becomes this slack-jaw, obscenity-yelling moron who can't seem to hear a word I say. But, I do love the commercials during the game. None stick out so far, but there's still have a game left. That P. Diddy one sucked major balls, does anyone disagree? What a self-serving ass-hat he is.

Sorry it's been so long since my last post. S went to Montana to visit his grandparents and then Emmie came down with a double ear infection. Fun times were had by mommy at Casa de Austin. Sometimes being the mommy sucks. I was so tired after two days of sitting up with a sniffling, crying Emmie that I wanted to pull my hair out and run down the street naked.

Well, not much else is happening. I'm super happy to announce that we may be getting internet and cable again very soon. It seems having kids really pays off at tax time. We're getting a huge amount back and plan on buying an older car and getting rid of this new one that is sucking us dry. That alone will free up about $400-$500 a month. I can't wait! And I know you all can't either.

how much longer?

slowly but surely we are getting caught up with life. What really sucks is both S and I are instant gratification seekers. So, when the plan to cut back on everything and pay off our debt first came into play, we were both gung ho. Now, it's been two weeks, two whole weeks, yet it feels like nothing has happened.

Um maybe because nothing has happened, I know that's what you all are saying. And you are right. It's just that with the gratification affliction we suffer from, we were expecting instant results. This was a six to twelve month plan, how in the hell will we survive?

Books. That's how. I'm averaging two per week, while S, the lazy bum, is averaging about one. Never mind the fact that I'm home all day and he's at work, he should be able to read circles around me. What, with all his bragging of speed reading and all. I was expecting numerous daily trips to the library. But alas, he's been on the same novel since Sunday people.

Ahem, can you sense the insanity that is setting in?

Library

So, I'm sitting here at the local library praying the people sitting on either side of me don't look over and read what I'm typing (YES, YOU. YOU OVER THERE. THE TWENTYSOMETHING GUY LOOKING AT PORN, DON'T THINK I CAN'T TELL). Anyway, this is fun. I feel like I'm back in high school. So, when I said fun, I meant the kind of fun you can get yanking your fingernails out.

I've been without internet now for about a week. I haven't died yet, but I've come close. The days seem to stretch before me, and I can only clean the house so many times. It's funny though. Now that we are without internet and cable, the house is cleaner. Coincidence? I think not. Also, the kids know what I look like. No longer do they think mommy has a chair surgically grafted to her fat ass. It all feels so early eighties.

I had to go to a bridal convention with my sister and mother this past weekend. The only good thing to come out of it was all the free samples of cake and stuff we got to eat. Who on earth would spend $8000 on a hotel for a reception? Really, because I want to meet you. Damn! It was funny, they had this one bar company there where you could sign up for them to cater your wedding and as incentive they had two HOT, young, shirtless guys there. I was so flustered. One of them asked me how I was doing and I could only giggle. GIGGLE! Like I was some grade school geek. I wanted to die.

Well, my time here at the public computer is almost up. I have many blogs and sites to visit, so this is the end of my post. Later.

oops

well, this is just a post to let you all know that my entries may be few and far between. S and I have decided to turn our internet connection off. Agh, it's like cutting my right arm off.

This is temporary. Just until we're back on track, financially. Seems that having kids is expensive. Wish someone had told me that before I decided to have two. Kidding, kidding! I love my girls and wouldn't trade them for all the internet service in the world. You all should be proud that I've chosen food, diapers, and clothing over entertainment. Hey, look at me! I'm a grown up.

The local library here does offer internet usage, so you know where I'll be any chance I get. I'm pretty certain I'll have access to the blog world. So, keep up those blogs people, I'll be reading.

Oh yeah! I almost forgot. S and I had so much fun last night. We stuffed ourselves silly and then spent an hour at Toy R Us, only to buy a DVD for the girls. S's dad had given us a gift certificate to there, and figured since we were close by, might as well spend it. Lexie is more than happy that we've added yet another DVD to her Baby Einstein collection.

date night

tonight I get to eat a meal in a restaurant with my honey. But that's not the best part. Nope, the best part is the kids are staying home! Hoorah!

A whole meal without any food spit or thrown at me, no temper tantrums over vegetables. No searching for the binkie someone threw across the room. And a real conversation without having to try and decipher what my speaking partner is saying*.

This should be fun. And special thanks to My Grandma Jefferies for the gift card to Black Angus. In the words of Lexie, "mmmmm Ummy!"




*what the hell does, "blah bah, psth, maa mah bye bye" mean anyway?

am I ready?

2006 seems to have gotten here way faster than I was prepared for. Where the hell did 2005 go? I remember laughing at my mother when she would tell me that time speeds up the older you get. Little did I know...

I'm ready for '06 to be my year. I'm probably tempting fates here, but since '05 brought many a disaster my way, I'm thinking from here on out it's smooth sailing. Ugh, excuse me while I go hide under a rock and wait for the fates to pass me by.

Really though. How can this year go wrong? I'm 900 miles away from my mother-in-law and my father. I get to live 15 minutes from my mom and two of my sisters. Hell, I live in a state that actually has four seasons. So long monotonous weather of California.

Here's to you 2006. Please don't piss on my parade.

fun with play-doh

As a mom, I rock. I made (from scratch) this awesome play-doh for Lexie. But, the little booger is afraid of it! What the hell? How can you be afraid of play-doh.

Well, no need to fear. Mommy has found a way to have fun with the stuff:

do you have to go now?

We have decided to brave the potty-training front here at Casa de Austin. All participants are gung-ho at this point, but we'll see...

Actually, we've gotten as far as purchasing the potty seat and showing Lexie where it goes in the bathroom. She knows it's a potty, knows to sit on it sans pants, and even knows to wipe her (so cute) tush with TP and then wave bye-bye to it as we flush it down the toilet. The only factor missing? Why, the actual going potty. But I have faith we'll get there...eventually.

what was I thinking?

Will someone please tell me why I just wasted two horrific hours watching You Got Served?*








*I'll admit it, I was watching for the skanky Kevin Federline. I have some strange facination with him and his whore-bride Britney.

don't get too comfortable

I'm playing around with some new templates. The old one kinda gave me a headache. All those feet...{{shudder}}.

So, bear with me, I'm liable to change my mind. A lot. Any input is greatly appreciated.

Later.

a year in review

I got this off of LINDA. It is a look at the last year in review. The idea is to post the first sentence from the first post of each month and review how your last year went. So here I go...

January: Finally, the little bugger decided to cut her first tooth. And get this...It's her top tooth. Leave it to my child to be abnormal and cut her teeth backwards.

February: to let you all know. IT'S A GIRL. They are "almost 100%" sure.

March: If you've seen any weather reports recently on the "wonderful" state of California, then you know we have had rain, rain, and then some more rain. The last couple of days though, there has been this bright shining object in the sky. It's bright out and warm. I think it's the sun, but I haven't seen it since last summer so I am not too sure.

April: So I bought some Nair and let S have his ways with my bushes...er, I mean legs. I think he enjoyed it too much, I kept having to yell, "don't rub it in. You aren't supposed to rub it in!" And, damn if the crap worked.

May: Yes, folks. I am a grumpy pregnant woman. Watch out.

June: Omgod, I cannot, no really cannot, stand this shedevil any longer. She has pulled the last straw. I guess she's now angry with me and talking smack about me to anyone who will listen because I a) haven't returned her phone call (because like, duh, I just had a baby) and b) I haven't called her for help. And she knows I need help because, and I quote, "no one can raise two kids that young by themselves."

July: Yesterday was S's birthday. He is now 33 years old. Good Lord, I'm married to a mid-thirties man. I'm almost thirty! When did I get this old. I remember thinking 25 was almost dead (granted I was like 15 when I thought this). I don't feel old.

August: Well, here I am pounding away at my mother's computer, wondering if this was the right move. Of course I know it was, but S and I have been questioning our sanity for the last couple of days. All we can do is trust that all will be well.

September: I've never really thought about how my family appears to people outside our "circle." But, living with them with S, he has given me some new insight. We are a ditzy bunch. Not ditzy dumb, just ditzy.

October: Breastfeeding isn't going so well here in Casa de Austin. It hasn't for about 2 months now and I think my job is to blame. See, the first month I was a good mom and pumped when I got home from work so Emmie could have breast milk. Then, well then I just went all lazy and decided one bottle of formula wouldn't kill her.

November: I'm off for a few days. I'm heading over to Seattle with my parents, sisters, and kids to see Sir PAUL McCARTNEY in concert. That's right, I'm going to see a real live Beatle. I'm just so excited I could plotz.

December: You know what makes for a great Monday morning? No, not breakfast on bed. Nope, not hot love-making with your husband either. I'll tell you. It's waking up to find that your toilet has runneth over and now your bathroom and hallway are looking like a scene out of THE POSIEDON ADVENTURE. Luckily, there wasn't a Shelley Winters crying about not knowing how to swim.

don't mind the smell

well, my house smells just lovely. A dash of poo, some puke and an overlaying scent of Spot Shot. Heavenly.

The flu seems to have finally rid itself of us. My god, it was horrible. My poor husband, having to wade through dirty dishes, unclean clothes and having to listen to not only whining children, but a piss-poor patient...me!

I am the worst sick person ever. I whine. I cry. I throw things. It's not pretty. I can't help it, and besides it feels so much better to act like a giant baby. I figure I'm cheerful enough while I'm healthy. Let me be a bitch during illness.

Thankfully, this flu wasn't long lasting and the bitch fest only lasted two days. So, I'm back and feeling human.

Just in time to cram the rest of that shopping in...

just do this

As George Carlin once said, "Vuja De...the feeling that this has never happened before."

If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, even if we don't *speak* often, please post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL MEMORY OF YOU AND ME. It can be anything you want--good or bad--BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE. When you're finished, post this paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people DON'T ACTUALLY remember about you. No excuses, OK?

Please participate...I stole this from someone, but am too lazy to link.

where's the beef?

I was just reading some of my archived posts. You know, I used to be kinda funny. What the hell happened? This blog sure went to shit, don't you think? Is my life that mundane that I can't possibly find anything of humor to write about?

Sure, the toilet re-creating a scene from Titanic made for a chuckle, but where's the heart in that post? Do I really think you all care about me having to wade down the hallway? Could this all be because I am menstruating and suffering from the worst cramps ever and ever, amen?

I've thought this over and realized that nope, my life hasn't been very funny lately. It's been, dare I say it, pretty much normal. What gives? I think it's me. I used to laugh at everything. Now, with little to no sleep and two screaming brats...er, I mean kids, there isn't much to laugh at. And it's making my writing crap.

I'm not saying I was ever that great of a writer. But, I got a point across, and I like to think that point was filled with a laugh or two.

I promise you, my loyal readers, I promise to insert some funny into this here little blog.

Starting tomorrow....

In the water I'm a very skinny lady.

You know what makes for a great Monday morning? No, not breakfast on bed. Nope, not hot love-making with your husband either. I'll tell you. It's waking up to find that your toilet has runneth over and now your bathroom and hallway are looking like a scene out of THE POSIEDON ADVENTURE. Luckily, there wasn't a Shelley Winters crying about not knowing how to swim.

So...yeah. Seems my little habit of not flushing the toilet during my many nocturnal bathroom visits is what caused the commode back flow. Whoops. Luckily, we are the proud owners of one much used shop-vac. Unfortunately, it's in my mother's garage. It should be arriving soon. Please, let it arrive soon.

So that's that. A fine howdoyoudo Monday. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to find some hip-boots.