Does this make me a grown up now?

It's a sad day when on my first day off...I wake up at 7am with a slept to long headache.  I love to sleep and I love my bed. I have always been able to be a marathon sleeper. I could do a run of 10 hrs with no prep time or stretching. Then came along the sleep nemesis... a job. Now my days off and weekends are filled with early morning sunlight and fulfilling "productive" tasks.  One Saturday, only one, I actually was done cleaning shit and it was only 11am. I don't know when this happened or how I can make it stop.  I think it must be a slow progression like getting fat, it doesn't happen over night. I feel like I blinked and now I am a grown up. I will not go gracefully into this category. I will never be heard uttering parental phrases like "get up! the days a waistin'" or "you're sleepin the day away". No, I will be envious of those still cuddled in their beds snoozing all while I ... *sigh*...am being productive.

It's not water boarding if it's out of love

I don't know how.. but I have become one of those people that loves their pet. I am in love with our bunny. Her actual name is Mocha, even though I like to lengthen her name and call her Mochachino. I find myself giving her kisses before I leave for work and stopping by the store to get her new toys and snacks. I realized today that it is full blown love and that perhaps I treat her better than humans. A few nights ago she has got a dirty schnozzola. I had this great idea of getting a warm wash cloth and quickly wiping her snuffleupagus. Apparently that was not a welcomed idea by my daughter (the real owner of MY hausenfeffer) . She quickly snapped... "NO Mom you are not going to water board the bunny!" I guess I hadn't thought of it like that. How 'bout a warm shower or putting her head over a warm steam vaporizer or even a tea kettle? None of these ideas were acceptable. All of these genius ideas were only formed out of love for Mochachino and her yucky nose. Oh well.. I guess she will just have goo stuck to her fur..even though it looks icky. It's ok, I still love her and she loves me.

Use the force

Today I dropped my Taco Bell Cinnamon twists on the passenger side floor in my car. I sadly looked at them sprinkled across my floor mat. I stretched my arm out and tried so hard to move them with Jedi powers. I tried using my Yoda voice...tried curling my fingers filled with  magical powers...I tried staring at them intently. I even tried to beg them. Nothing worked. The sprinkled cinnamon lying across my seat and flowing onto the floor taunted me.  I leaned over and grabbed the ones I could reach. I mean, the 5 second rule didn't apply in my car.. would it?

One day, I will have mind control and I will be able to raise a cinnamon twist. I know it to be so.....

too be continued......

Mothers name? Date of birth?

Faster than a speeding bullet....my nerves are spent.  Children have a way of bombarding a parent with questions. This tandem asking for help as they fill out their school forms has brought me to my knees. Why do schools do this every year. Asking the same questions....over and over. If my kids were actually listening,they would hear that the other one has just asked THE SAME THING 5 minutes earlier. But alas, no i answer and before i am done speaking blammo...the other is asking. Now, i do not blame these little precious gifts from God...im just saying...UGGGGGGHHHH. Time for a xanex.

Oh Ebay, how I love thee

When I was a little girl my sister and I had a play kitchen. My mom had given us real but old, faded, chipped dishes and accessories. This was the 70's and if they made play dishes, I wouldn't know about it. Obviously, those type of items were reserved for the elite families with children that had real big wheels and pretty barbie dolls. Michele and I, unfortunately had the hippy and far cheaper version of dolls called the Sunshine family.  My mom tried so hard to sell us on how these dolls were better than Barbie. She bragged about there hinged and bendable knees. The doll father looked a lot like the dad from the Brady Bunch and when I tried to dry his afro in the bathroom heater it melted into a sick and deformed wig. I was not sold on their superior attributes.

One of the coolest things our play kitchen had was this pair of wooden salt and pepper shakers. They were always our favorite and more than one little girl WWF smack down happened over who got to claim them for their own in play land. Eventually they were long since given away just like the scene in Toy story. Etched in my mind, I never have forgotten them. Years ago, while being forced to go through an antique store with my sister, I saw a familiar face.  I saw Salty and Peppy.  Since that fate-filled day my collection has grown. And thanks to the wonders of Ebay and the interweb I can shop in my underwear. Recently, I purchased a porcelain pair of Salty and Peppy. They come in all sizes, styles and colors. I had to own them. Well, so apparently no one else shares my obsession for 1970's nostalgic salt and pepper shakers with little faces. I was the only bidder and won my prize and added them to my collection in the china cabinet.

Really?!

Really Victoria Secret bra lady?  Really? At my age do you think your gonna tell me I am wearing the wrong size bra? Do you think this is the Oprah Winfrey show or an article in Glamour? That was soooo 10 years ago.  I have evolved and learned from the error in the ways of my female predecessors. The other 80% of women that have wandered through life incorrectly covering and lifting their bosoms. So I came in happily to accept my free panties and use my $10 off a bra coupon. I was like a lamb to the slaughter immediately. I was greeted by no less than 2 women....no..they are girls... walking around in professional attire. I began shopping. I guess i was looking uncertain of my own bra confidence.  I should have known the universal sign of an imposition. She had the measuring tape slung around her tiny young neck as if Victoria herself had knighted her with the secret of breast knowledge.  I fell for it. I was bamboozled into going behind the curtain.  5 bras and 3 new size tries later...it was decided i WAS maybe right with my current size.  Really? To add insult to injury...someone took my coupon and panties off of the chair. Yes, walked away with my freebies. Really?? Tiny Amanda could sense my frustration. Perhaps it was because i slowly was wrapping her tape measure around her neck. No no...not really but DEFIANTLY in my mind. They were kind enough to give them to me anyhow.  I walked out sweaty,annoyed,  no new sexy bra and only with my freebie consolation prize of cheeky hipster panties.  Really VS???

News Bulletin

Women falls to her death in work bathroom.  It appears that the culprit is her fabulous grey peep toe stilletos.  Allegedly the victim was pulling up her pants when the heel of her right shoe became lodged in the bottom back cuff. A struggle ensued where as she fell against the door and succumb to her injuries. Cause of death: humiliation and embarrassment.  More at 11...