Fabulous Chased With Crazy

A Little Hair Experiment

2012-02-14T12:35:00.000-06:00

Since I've been spending most of my free time....at work....watching makeup and hair tutorials on Pinterest I decided to try one of them out.

And take pictures.

And blog about it. Hooray!

Operation Make My Hair Beautiful

Phase One: Stop shampooing as often - check
Phase Dos: Jump on the MoroccanOil bandwagon - check
Phase Three: Win the lottery and have enough money to hire a professional hair stylist to live with me and make me beautiful every day.

Anyfollicle.

I stumbled upon the "beachy look" and I about peed from it's awesomeness. I figured this was a look I could pull off since my hair already has a natural wave (actually it's more like a super awful impossible to manage kink but I'm feeling 'glass half full' today).

Exhibit A - what my hair looks like at the end of the day after doing nothing to it.

That, my friends, is quite yucky.

Exhibity B - Homemade "beach spray" found via Pinterest. I'm an asshole and have a super hard time following directions so I found a couple recipes and picked my favorite ingredients and came up with my own home brew.

Empty spray bottle
One cup water
Some Sea Salt
A squirt of Gel
A couple pumps of Oil
Woodchuck - optional but highly recommended - for consumption, not to put on your hair, but you guys knew that, right?
Shakeity shake shake and spray on hair

I then sectioned my hair into five sections and twisted it into five little buns and hung out for awhile.

Exhibit C -

I give it a 4.9999999 out of 5

Exhibit D -

This is how Alexa's hair turned out. Yeh, I'm jealous too.

I slept in it and just spritzed some more on in the AM and am super happy with the results. Not as curly as the night before but not as stupid as when I do nothing to it.

Rock on.

Thoughts? Suggestions? Complaints? Feel free to keep those to yourself.

Peace out.

Is There Such Thing As A Good Hair Day?

2012-02-10T12:34:00.000-06:00

I have really bad hair. It's mostly my fault because as long as I can remember I have been perming, then straightening, then coloring, then bleaching, then turning it pink, then highlighting/lowlighting/moonlighting and all that jazz.

Since I got bored making wreaths and I've seen every show on HGTV and DIY network twice I decided I needed a new hobby.

That's when Operation Make My Hair Beautiful Again was born.

My last haircut I decided I wasn't going to get any color put in to it. After I stopped hyperventilating and picked myself up off the ground I proceeded to make an appointment.

I told her to cut enough off to make it semi healthy again.

The bitch cut, like, 6 inches off.

I might have cried a little.

My next step was to ask google A LOT of questions about repairing damaged hair.

Google said to put eggs and mayonnaise in it.

Yeh, I didn't do that.

So then I diligently searched the aisle's of every store (just Target) in a 50 mile radius looking for products that promised results. I also took the snobby approach and bought the expensive ones since, hey, you get what you pay for. Right?

Yeh, that didn't work either. Most creams and oils just made my hair look really greasy and didn't do much as far as repair.

Then I did what I should have done in the first place and asked Pinterest.

Pinterest said don't shampoo every day and use MoroccanOil. I was a little leary of drinking the MoroccanOil Kool-Aid since nothing else has ever worked for me and I'm lazy and cheap. If I can't get it at Target I probably won't get it at all.

You guys. This stuff works. My hair is shinier and softer and awesomer and I've only used it a couple times.

But guess what! I don't have a picture for you so you're just gonna have to take my word for it.

I'll keep you posted. I know you care.

That's All She Wrote

2012-02-09T12:06:00.000-06:00

Alright you guys.

I sat down today to write some sort of craptastic blog post because contrary to popular belief and what this here blog has been saying lately (obviously not a whole lot) I do want to continue blogging simply because I apparently have one creative neuron? proton? atom? floating around in my brain that needs a creative outlet.

This just in - I am a giant idiot.

Also, I like it. I still think of things daily that I would like to write about.

On the other hand, it had become a chore to me so I walked away from it. I'm not really one to do something if I don't enjoy it or if it feels like work to me when it's my choice to do it.

Also, I suck at writing and translating my weird thoughts into intelligible written words.

Obvs.

Also, I feel like a hypocritical asshole writing this because who am I to think that you really care about all this? I write for me, not for you. Mostly. Fine 50/50.

So anyways, here's to hoping I show up here a little more often in the near future and here's to hoping you aren't too drunk to read what I write.

Cheers.

That One Time I Boarded A Plane With One Tiny Terrorist One Angel And One Giant Baby

2011-12-28T11:11:00.000-06:00

Writing this through my perspective would go something like this:

*Dear God: Please make them all stop whining OR magically make a cocktail of Xanax and vodka appear in my hand right now.*

Avery and Alexa's would be something along the lines of: *Dear God: Please get Mom a vodka before she starts hyperventilating and/or murder's Dad with her laser eyes. And please tell Santa we want a Barbie dream house. Kthx.*

While we're at it, Josh's perspective would most likely be: *Dear God: Please watch over my cows while I'm gone, man I wish we weren't going on this trip because now I have to miss deer hunting and beer drinking and all the awesome things that make my world go round. Oh crap, gotta go, Teisha's getting hog tied by Avery who is attempting to take over the world. I should probably help. Meh, I'm having fun sitting here dreaming about home. Amen*

Yeh, so, anyplaneticket.

We went on a trip that involved missing our first plane out of town (Delta called and said they weren't going to leave until 8 AM but then still left at 6:30 AM and apparently it's our fault for not being there at the scheduled departure time. Lesson learned. Delta = Doucheholes.)

It also involved a layover in Detroit where Avery found her true love: the moving walkway.

OMG Mom this is amazing we can go back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and back and forth for, like, ever. I can also stand right in the way of all eleventy thousand people trying to get on the walkway because it's so fun trying to master the fine art of getting on it without falling over. So. much. fun.

Avery, it's time to get back on the plane.

WHY DO YOU HATE ME!? I DON'T EVER WANT TO LEAVE! NOOOOOOO, I WILL KICK AND SCREAM UNTIL YOU LET ME REUNITE WITH THE MOVING WALKWAY. I LOVE YOU MOVING WALKWAY! I'LL NEVER FORGET YOU! Oh, Lion King is on. Awesome.

Avery, we have to turn 'all electronics into the off position' for take off or the plane could crash into a firey heap of steel and cushions that double as floaties and you don't want that on your conscious.

ARE YOU SERIOUS?! I CAN'T EVEN BELIEVE THE INJUSTICE OF THIS WHOLE EFFING TRIP. I'M TOTALLY GONNA SUE SOMEBODY BECAUSE THIS IS JUST SOOOOO UNFAIR. Oh, a starburst. Thanks, Mom!

Thank you baby Jesus for Alexa being such an angel throughout this whole process. I couldn't have made it through without that blessing disguised as the cutest five year old on the planet.

Anyanxietyattack.

We made it in one piece and had a nice time with Josh's family doing the whole Christmas thing and sightseeing thing and swimming thing.

Side note - Did you know Pittsburgh doesn't sell alcohol on Sunday's? Yeh, us neither. That was a real fun discovery at 8:00 Sunday night when all I wanted was ONE BEER OMG IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR?

The ride home went about the same as the ride there. I almost slapped a Delta bitch when she called me out for giving Avery M&M's at 8 in the morning.

Yeh, she's been up for four hours already and is completely frazzled and just ready to be home. It's M&M's or possibly get kicked off the plane with an unruly toddler. Fuck off you judgey bitch. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you.

And then, there was a BIRD! INSIDE!

Mom, can we touch it?

No.

Why not?

Because it's obviously sick if it's just walking around chilling out in an airport for crying out loud.

I want to feed it.

No.

Avery had had enough and passed out on the second leg of the trip home. Thankfully. For her sake and for mine.

I still don't know which would be the lesser of two evils: a 15 hour car ride with two people that would complain the entire time, (those two people being Josh and Avery in case you were wondering) or the plane craziness.

Probably the plane.

Apparently This Is How I'm Gonna Make A Blog Comeback

2011-12-21T11:45:00.000-06:00

The other day Josh sat me down and broke some very serious news to me:

"I want a boy."

My response:

"No."

This is the closest he'll get.

A farm girl with butterflies on her shirt.

Awesomesauce.

In related news - I turned 30 and the world didn't stop turning (shocking!) but I am now over the whole 'we're too young to do anything permanent about the whole fact that my uterus is still working' so I plan to make an appointment for him to lose some of his manhood. Aaaand my uterus will still work.

Winning.

Shit I've Been Doing Besides Blogging

2011-10-28T14:36:00.000-05:00

Painting the wood paneling and then ceiling because who knew? it was dirty and brown like everything else in that room

Making eleventy hundred felt flowers with Alexa

To make a wreath.

Putting pumpkins and fake flowers in my fireplace because that's what the cool kids are doing nowadays

Putting candy corn in mason jars and calling it decoration

Making yet another wreath with Alexa because she likes making things and apparently I do too.

Putting this fabric

on these chairs

someday soon

Painting, not carving, pumpkins

Playing in leaf piles

Throwing terrified kitties in to leaf piles

And last, but certainly not least. What's more annoying than watching Max and Ruby on TV?

Watching Max & Ruby on stage.

Funk

2011-10-12T12:19:00.000-05:00

Funk - defined by Urban Dictionary
1) A foul odor.
2) A style of R&B music whose artists include James Brown, Parliament-Funkadelic (aka P-Funk) and Red Hot Chili Peppers.
3) Depressed mood.

1) Somebody take out the garbage, it's funking the whole apartment up.
2) I love playing funk bass.
3) I need to get drunk to get out of this funk.

Teisha - defined by Urban Dictionary
A sexy name for white girls who act like they are black and like sexy black men

Damn that Teisha girl is the hottest white chick I've ever seen!

Ummmmmmmmmmm

Awkward.

::insert clever transition sentence here::

::cricket::

::cricket::

Yeh, ok, moving on.

Remember that one time that I declared I'm gonna kick my fat face in the fat cheeseball {Yummmmmmm fried cheese} and regain the skinnies I lost over the course of, ohhh say forever?

I've learned a lot in the last couple weeks:

1) Binge drinking is full of calories
2) Eating only 1200 calories a day is hard
3) Trying to outsmart the calories and only eating, like, half the caloric intake for the day in an attempt to "save" the calories for drinking that night makes for a fast drunk and one giant blonde idiot on a hayrack.
4) Jillian Michaels is an asshole

I've been "forced" to give up drinking for the most part during this little experiment - I mean life change (no I don't) - because of the empty calories that it contains and the food choices that it brings.

Cheeseballs.

Since cutting back on the drinking I've noticed a change in my everyday mood. As in, I'm happier.

Wait, what? I'm getting the nervous sweats just writing out that sentence because I tend to judge people and call them dicks behind their back when they get all self righteous and proclaim to everybody and jesus that 'drinking is bad and I'm better than you because I don't drink everyday.'

And then I'd be all 'oh yeh, well, I'm awesome and STOP! hatin' is bad.'

I don't necessarily believe that simply cutting back, not to be confused with, quitting on the drinking has caused this behavior change. It could maybe be because the weather has been so unbelievably awesome and fall is my absolute favorite. Or the fact that fall shows have started back up (If you don't already watch Modern Family, you're a moron, watch it).

But either way, the funk has lifted for now.

I'll be PMS'ing, though, next week so WATCH OUT AMERICA AND CHEESEBALLS.

Apple Trees Are No Joke

2011-10-07T13:55:00.000-05:00

We have an apple tree in the backyard.

I can say it's an apple tree because I counted at least three apples on it the other day.

It's the perfect height/size/branchyness for climbing and giving Mom 489438 little mini heart attacks.

Be careful be careful becarefulbecareful

SEE I TOLD YOU TO BE CAREFUL

In Yer Fat Face

2011-10-04T12:23:00.000-05:00

Yes, This Day Of Diet Really Happened

2011-09-30T14:48:00.000-05:00

FAIL

I'm holding you personally responsible Julie. Real friends don't let friends drink and diet.

Diet Schmiet Fork In My Piehole

2011-09-28T16:08:00.000-05:00

So.

You know how I've been bitching about gaining all this weight and, 'oh hello love handles and size skinny work pants that all of a sudden are real asshats and don't fit anymore.'

Well apparently I've had enough of all this fatty nonsense because the other weekend I proclaimed to myself that I was getting back on the skinny bandwagon. Then something greasy and delicious happened that week so the next weekend I again proclaimed to myself that I was getting back on the skinny bandwagon. Lather, rinse, repeat for a few weeks and here we are.

I've seen rumblings about My Fitness Pal around The Twitter and such but since I'm a lazy asshole I thought to myself, Self: You don't need that calorie counting exercise wielding website to keep on track with your weight, you practice portion control and are so full of the awesome you will just magically stay skinny like this forever and ever amen.

Jump to 10 pounds later as I'm crying into my cheeseballs I see a blog post about myfitnesspal and it sparks my interest.

Time to stop *thinking* about losing weight and actually *doing* something about it.

Step one-Create an account. CHECK
Step two-Type in food consumed for the day.

Step three-Immediately flip the finger to My Fitness Pal because according to this I only get to consume 470 more calories for the day.
Step four-Start looking up favorite foods/drinks to determine their assholeness.
Step four A-ONE slice of sausage and pepperoni Pizza Hut pizza = 400 calories. Fuck you.
Step four B-ONE serving of spaghetti = 600+ calories. Double fuck you. (Also, that doesn't take in to account that a bottle of wine and two slices of garlic toast are also consumed during said spaghetti marathon....shit)
Step four C-On the menu tonight? KFC. Did you know that one fucking biscuit contains 180 calories?!
Step five-Start to reconsider this whole "lifestyle change"

I'll keep you posted.

I intend to start exercising soon.

Stop laughing.

A Birthday Party Fit For A Dramatic Five Year Old

2011-09-27T12:21:00.000-05:00

A weird thing happened over the weekend: I became a mom to a FIVE year old.

Five. years. old.

::sigh::

I rarely get sentimental about things except for maybe when somebody erases a show before I've watched it or if I witness somebody being mean to a puppy or something.

But this weekend was really hard for me. I have to say it was the first birthday where I was all 'super sads, she is just growing up so fast and already in school and has become a little person who I thoroughly enjoy being around and is funny and loving and, where has the time gone?' I said "I can't believe I have a five year old" exactly 1,256 times that day.

We celebrated her birthday with family surrounding us and lots of love filling the air.

Aunt Jessica and fam won the Best! Present! Ever! award with her write/illustrate your own Princess book and chocolate. I'm surprised Alexa's eyeballs didn't pop out of her skull she was so damn excited.

And again with the eyeball popping.

She was excited.

Moving on.

So up to this point we've managed to live through presents, pizza, cake, and wrestling with the toys to actually get them out of the box and operable. Now on to the bonfire.

A cool fall night in Iowa means there must be a redneck fire in an old tractor rim or something and s'mores and beer.

And nervous twitches from the marshmellowy mess.

Avery couldn't even eat hers she was so worried about the stickiness of the whole deal. This may, or may not be, because of my tendency to freak out if food gets on something it's not supposed to, HOLY CRAP DON'T TOUCH YOUR HAIR YOU HAVE A SMIDGE OF PIZZA SAUCE ON YOUR HAND. Shut up, Josh.

Then we put the kids to bed and the adults stayed up talking about whether or not our two new kitties were male or female (turns out they're male...and named Ariel and Petals, whoops) and some other super important stuff.

According to Alexa the day was AWESOME so I'd chalk that up to a successful birthday party fit for a Princess.

Happy Birthday Sweet Girl!

I Told You It Was A Wig!

2011-09-21T10:56:00.001-05:00

Being's that my roommates are:

One pen!s,

One princess who does everything in dramatic fashion,

One smart ass toddler who likes to eff with people,

One half blind three legged dog who the toddler thinks name is 'dog' because that is what I call her because she shares the same name as the princess,

Two orange little tabby cats that we *think* are female who run in terror from the princess and the toddler,

A bunch of cows that the pen!s feeds and loves more than the old vaj in the house,

And corn. Lots and lots of corn and gravel dust.

Anywhoozle.

Girls rule around these parts. And with girls comes Disney princess movies and junk.

This find, though, will blow your mind. And make you laugh til you pee so there's also that.

I can hear you, bitches!

Meadow

2011-09-08T11:45:00.000-05:00

As I've mentioned before I have the luxury of living in the middle of a cornfield. I get the hives thinking of 'Children of the Corn' and the possibility that one day I will have to call the authorities because I am Mother of the Year and 'Help me! I think my kid wandered off into the cornfield and I can't find her and ::HYPERVENTILATING::'

The upsides far outweigh any downsides of having to drive 30 minutes to find a Target and civilization.

I see kids frolicking in a meadow.

Josh sees kids wandering around in a weed infested hay field.

po-tay-to
po-tah-to

Thoughts Vs. Words

2011-09-07T19:50:00.000-05:00

Are you excited for preschool?
SOB SOB SOB I can't believe my first born is old enough to be going to school every day for half a day and then before you know it you'll be sneaking around probably chillin' on a dirt road with smoke rollin' out the window and oh! my! god! SOB

Remember you have to listen to the teacher and mind your manners.
Or there will be hell to pay if I hear you were acting a fool and, like, spitting wads of paper through straws or whatever the juvenile deliquents do nowadays.

Are you excited for the bus ride?
Kill me now, I can't even wrap the garbage floating around in my brain that you are going to have to find a seat by yourself and be a big kid and possibly get in a fist fight and kill. me. now.

HI SISSY! How was your first day of school?
Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooob

That's awesome, you learned a lot! And made new friends?
I hope you were nice, and didn't pull the bully crap you sometimes pull on your sister. And they better have been nice to you or I will hunt their parents down and spit lightning in their face after I've had a glass or two of liquid courage because otherwise, I'm a giant pansy.

And the bus ride was good?
::nervous twitches::

Wow, you sat in the back?!
HOLY SHIT CHILD YOU'RE GOING TO MAKE ME HYPERVENTILATE....AGAIN....isn't the back where the asshole drug dealing face punching finger pointing while laughing hoodlums sit? Oh my god ohmygodohmygodohmygod

You're such a big girl! I'm so proud of you!

Haiku You

2011-08-24T14:59:00.000-05:00

Dear Miss Alexa

Keep talking like a baby

Sure sign you're LYING

Love,

Mom

Bubble Guppies Makes Me Stabby

2011-08-20T08:00:00.001-05:00

I've shared my distaste for Nick Jr. shows before.

Seriously, one of the requirements for being a writer for one of these shows has got to be 'may or not be a total creeper and is 34% stupid'. Also: 'must have a degree in imagination aka smokes a lot of weeeeeeeeeed.'

Summer time has brought a brief respite from these wacked out shows because obviously, summertiiiiiime and the feelings right and Alexa hasn't demanded them to be on all. the. time.

The other day, Alexa was nice enough to introduce Nick Jr. to Avery.

Thanks for that Alexa.

Thanks. a. lot.

Avery loves it. Like, hands me the 'mote after bath time and and says 'Mom Mom Mom! MOM! MAAAAAHHHHHHM!' Translation: Please turn the TV on for me Mom. Thank you.

Insert giant sigh and eyeroll and instant need for vodka.

So, anyways. Bubble Guppies.

Stupid stupid stupdistupdisamsd,fmzxvn alwueryoawiurheawsdf/1i8!!!

This particular episode was teaching about paper and recycling and wood and all that jazz.

Great, right?

The assholes also featured a windstorm. UNDERFUCKINGWATER.

And squirrels in trees hiding their nuts and shit.

UNDERFUCKINGWATER.

Also, birds building nests, and then a lot of really bad singing and dancing with mermaid tails and, holy shit I think my brain is going to explode.

I mentally jumped through the TV screen and punched that stupid Bubble Guppie in the GD face and stupid mermaid tail several times.

I even mentally punched the bunny that lived in the tree trunk.

YOU'RE UNDER WATER YOU STUPID BUNNY!

PLEASE STOP SINGING ABOUT LUNCH TIME, MAC AND 'TREES' IS NOT FUNNY.

Whew, I feel better.

The vodka probably helped.

True Life: I'm A Half Ass Mommy Blogger

2011-08-19T12:56:00.001-05:00

Hello.

If you found me because I pimped my blog out on a link-up, welcome.

If you found me because you googled Skittles Vodka over and over again, you've come to the right place.

I talk about my kids every once in awhile but you'll usually find me curled up on the couch looking at pretty pictures in House Beautiful and then pretending to be an interior designer and spray painting the shit out of something.

Or, watching some Real Housewife craziness.

Or, arguing with Josh about who needs to go check out the noise I just heard and seriously what if someone just broke in and you send me to go check it and get possibly stabbed and die. Who would cook your meals for you and take care of the children, Josh!?

Side note - yes, I cook. Sometimes.

And clean. Sometimes.

Dumb.

Grab some vodka and stick around awhile.

I promise I won't talk about you behind your back.

Mother Of The Year

2011-08-18T15:50:00.000-05:00

This all happened while she was sitting on my lap.

I was playing on the 'puter.

I didn't notice until she got all excited about her drawings.

Inside My Head

2011-08-10T18:45:00.001-05:00

I want spaghetti. I can have two full servings of spaghetti tonight because the plan is to go for a run later and it's my favorite so don't get in my way asshole conscious. Also, I know as soon as I open this bottle of wine there's a good chance I will drink the entire bottle but it's ok I'm going to go for a run and pasta is good for stamina when running, right? And wine is good for the heart, right? Two pieces of garlic bread? Meh, we'll run it off. Avery's dropping spaghetti all over the floor, chair, her face and pretty much everywhere? Oh well, I'm calm queen of the universe. Oh shit, I forgot Josh is golfing tonight. I'll run tomorrow. Where's the wine?

No, Tyra, I'm Not Plus Size Just Curvalicious

2011-08-10T10:47:00.000-05:00

I recently had the opportunity to lay around in bed until 3:00 in the afternoon.

Granted I was hungthefuckover and had a tiny leprechaun using my skull as his own happy little drum set but STILL I was in bed without children yelling at me to get them some damn cereal.

Where were the kids? Locked in the closet, of course.

HOLY SHIT I'M ONLY KIDDING CHILL OUT.

They were at Grandma and Grandpa's probably having the time of their life eating fruit snacks and jumping on the bed, of course.

Remember those days?

Laying around all day and watching Real Housewives of whatever whacked out city they're in now and eating Cheetos without any pants on?

78 and sunny?

Meh, I'm too busy letting this America's Next Top Model marathon melt my brain while yelling at the Tyra because the one 'plus size' model is my size and damnit! where are my Cheetos?

Fierce.

But, I blame the a-a-a-a-a-a-alcohol for staying in bed all day on this *one* occasion in approximately 5 years. Since having the two lovely crotch rockets it's hard for me to turn off the crazy.

If I sit on the couch too long during the day I think the house is going to collapse all around us because ZOMG there's laundry to be done and weeds to be pulled and, is that dust? and I wonder if I have enough paint to paint the living room?

I welcome the change, though, because now my house is clean-ish and I have the motivation to, like, do things rather than sit around like a giant lazy turd.

Weird how kids do that to ya.

He Just Doesn't Understand My Sarcasm

2011-08-09T21:04:00.000-05:00

Honey, can we have the bachelor party down at the shop?

Yeh, sure, of course you can.

Six Movies And A Nap

2011-08-01T20:13:00.001-05:00

I sit here listening to the children scream at eachother in the other room wondering how long I should ~~be a horrible mother~~ wait for them to work it out amongst themselves.

Dear Kids: Please don't bill me for your inevitable therapy bills.

Anycrazy.

As I was listening to them fight I couldn't help but dream of the vacation that never ceases to be anything other than amazeballs.

Two years ago when Avery was just six weeks old and Alexa was 2.5 my entire family and I hopped into an RV and drove down to Gulf Shores, AL.

We decided right then and there that we will be back. Again and again.

And again.

We just recently made a return trip there and despite the fact that Mother Nature desperately needs to get laid because she was a bitch the first two days, we made the best of it and have already decided to go back, soon.

Wouldn't you want to?

I need to rewind some.

What do they say? "Getting there is half the fun"

Ummmm, right.

Instead of a clown car it was a giant family RV.

Four children ages 1, 2, 3 and 4.

Seven 'adults' that typically act like 12 year old boys.

100 bananas. 47 million juice boxes. 100 million times 'It's mine! No! It's! MINE!' was heard echoing throughout the 'bus.'

A couple movies, a sorta nap, a stay at a shady hotel in Mississippi and 18 motherfucking hours of drive time, we made it.

Thank you Jesus.

Since it rained the first 48 hours we were forced to let the kids run around batshit crazy and hit the indoor swimming pool while we watched with longing eyes at the sand and surf just a few feet away.

Then we got kicked out of the indoor swimming pool because there was lightning.

Hmmmm, I'm no genius but that's just idiotic.

We also played a game of Texas Hold 'Em and drank the afternoon away until finally some reprieve from the rain.

Thankfully Mother Nature pulled the stick out of her ass and gave us sunshine the last day we were there.

We also had a seafood night in which we threw a live lobster into boiling water and then I cried and vomited in my mouth a little.

I will stick with the shrimp and crab legs thankyouverymuch.

And what's a vacation without an injury? About five minutes before we were going to take a family picture Alexa decided to get to know Maddox's forehead a little better. With her eye.

Day four - the most colorful day there was.

Then it was 'pack up the shit and head out' time.

The ride home was a much quieter one. I think the kids and big kids were a little exhausted from the fantastical trip.

I CAN NOT wait to go back.

Vacation Teisha out.

BOO!

2011-07-22T14:02:00.001-05:00

So.

I accidentally took a month off of blogging.

Why?

Because I am a giant lazy turd.

Giant - because I've been busy stuffing my face with food and gaining 6 8 fucking pounds in a month's time. My girlfriend offered to check my thyroid for me which I soon realized isn't nearly as kinky as it sounds (sads) but I passed up the offer because my thyroid would have just told her to tell me to stop. eating. everything.

Lazy - because DUH

Turd - um, is it wrong that my sister's staged an intervention because I talk about poo too much? Hi, my name is Teisha and I have an unhealthy fascination with talking about shit.

Aaaaaand, moving on.

Since we last talked, America had a birthday.

FYYYYYYYUUUUUHHHHHHHWOOOOOOKKKKKSSSSSS

We went to the zoo.

Elphalant butt

Calm down you silly poo throwing monkeys

Alexa and I wanted nothing to do with birds eating our fingers and possibly eyeballs

Summertime = being outside

Alexa planted a "tree" that she's been watering daily

Avery insisted on the life jacket. Safety first.

Tubing on the muddy Mississippi

We've also been hanging inside because ZOMG it's balls hot outside.

Rare moment = Avery SITTING STILL and not EFFING WITH HER SISTER.

There's more but I can't tell you all of it right now or I'd have to take another month off of blogging.

So, I'll leave you with this cute little face until next time.

Ryan, don't tell anybody but you're my favorite

Giant lazy turd Teisha out.

Donuts And Anniversaries Go Together Like Ramalamadingdong Shadoobie Dowap Shibop

2011-06-26T07:00:00.009-05:00

I ate a donut.

About five seconds later I had to unbutton my skinny jeans and my inner thighs were pointing and laughing at me.

They are such assholes.

I'm also giving a whole new meaning to the term 'muffin top.'

I would like to punch the co-worker that decided to bring in the donuts.

I would also like to punch my scale, and swimming suit, and cellulite.

Let's talk about something different.

Like how the other night I awoke to a something crashing and falling in my bedroom and I thought I was being kidnapped by aliens (which would be AWESOME by the way) only to find my husband.

Lost.

In the bedroom.

Looking for the bathroom.

     Josh, what the hell are you doing?

     I have to go potty

     Snap out of it, you idiot, how much did you have to drink tonight?

This isn't the first time he's been lost in his own house at 2:00 in the AM.

I once found him wandering around in what is now Alexa's room, formerly the office, because he had taken a right turn a little too early after exiting the bathroom where he had just proceeded to pee in the trash can rather than the toilet.

Hands off, ladies, he's all mine.

No wonder I decided to drown my sorrows in a donut.

Just kidding.

He's 64.99% perfect, and a great guy, and somebody I've been blissfully married to for seven years now.

That's like 57 in Hollywood years.

He puts up with my crazy and only rolls his eyes about it around 83% of the time. Can't blame him, I'm usually giving myself the side-eye about half the things that come out of my mouth so that evens out to about 12% dumb and 100% AWESOME.

Happy Anniversary Josh

Thanks for not hating me.

Somebody Had A Birthday

2011-06-24T12:00:00.002-05:00

Yes, somebody had a birthday.

THREE WEEKS AGO.

Stop giving me the side-eye and calling me a bad mom blogger behind my back.

She's two, and in charge. Just ask her.

Be Our Guest

2011-06-23T12:00:00.003-05:00

Meet Lumiere

I don't have a before picture because I'm a moron.

Bummer.

Everybody Said I Should Paint Them Black

2011-06-22T18:43:00.000-05:00

I have always been one to learn things the 'hard way' or the 'you're a fuckin' idiot I just told you not to touch the stove BECAUSE IT'S HOT' way.

Or the fact that when everybody said I was in love with douchebag of the century I didn't believe them until king douchecanoe went and got somebody else pregnant while we were engaged.

I mean, whatever. This post is not about that, it's about chairs.

Try to contain your excitement people.

Chairs. OR. Gossip about my heart being broken and learning the hard way that fairy tales don't exist (sorry Alexa, but they don't). Chairs win.

Also, I'm NOT friends with him on Facebook.

I've never even put his name in the search box.

Fine, I lie.

ANYCOCKROACH.

Remember these butt ugly things that assaulted your eyes with fruit fabric?

Duct taped hot mess

Now they look like this

Aren't they magical?

Everybody said I should paint them black. So, I did the obvious thing and painted them white.

I have a shelf painted the same color so I wanted them to 'tie in' with that.

Also, these bitches are attention whores and they definitely command attention with their color and torquoise suede butt rests that make smiley faces shoot out my heart.

Also times two, my camera and suicidal wood paneling combined with poor lighting don't do these bad boys justice. You need to see them in person to soak in their awesomeness.

Eat your eyeballs out ex douchecanoe.

Sincerely,

Teisha
Chair Master Of The Universe

Nothing Like The Black Swan, That Movie Was Effed Up

2011-06-15T18:53:00.000-05:00

If you can make it past the shit filled fly infested crackhouse we call a cattle yard you just might catch a glimpse of this:

Our ~~pond~~ swamp at sunset with two swans and their little swan babies chilling.

I know, your eyeballs are totally making out with your computer screen right now, aren't they?

Cows And Unicorns, One In The Same

2011-06-15T10:17:00.000-05:00

Our typical summer night is either spent sitting outside grilling some steaks while the kids fight over the slide and who's turn it is to drive the Princess Jeep OR we hop in the truck, grab a drink for everybody, and gravel travel.

That's my favorite thing to do. The kids are tied up, I mean constrained in their safety harnesses, and they enjoy looking at all the, um, grass and corn and Josh and I actually get to have a grown up conversation with grown up drinks. Wait, that's illegal, we get to have a grown up conversation while sipping homemade lemonade.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA. Oh shit, I don't know what's funnier, the fact that I just implied I've ever made homemade lemonade or the fact that the lemonade wasn't spiked with vodka.

Moving on.

A big part of what makes me, me, is my tendency to royally fuck with people. My kids are not immune to this.

Alexa: Where are we going?

Me: For a ride.

Alexa: Why?

Me: Because I want to look for unicorns.

Alexa: Huh?

Me: I want to see if we can find a unicorn.

Alexa: Unicorns are far, far away. Like in a different town, in a house called Wheatland.

Me: OK, let's go.

*Arrive at our pasture that's sadly filled with cows, not unicorns*

Alexa: Why are the cows running?

Me: They are running away from the unicorn. They must be scared of them.

Alexa: Why?

Me: I don't know.

Alexa: Why does that cow have a ring in its nose?

Me: It's the bull and bull's like nose rings.

Alexa: Why is that bull smelling the other cow?

Me: Shit Josh, are we gonna have a front row seat to some cow humping?

Josh: ::huge grin:: wanna see a "thing" that's like *this* long?

Avery: mooooooo mooooooooo

Me: No, I don't want to see that and besides I am not prepared for a sex talk with a certain insanely inquisitive four year old.

Alexa: Where's the unicorn?

Me: What are you talking about?

Alexa: You said the cows were running away from the unicorn.

Me: Ohhh, it must have hopped on the nearest rainbow and headed home.

Alexa: Where's the rainbow?

Me: Right there, don't you see it?

Alexa: Where? I don't see it!

Me: Oh, bummer, you must've missed it.

This goes on for approximately 39 more minutes until:

Alexa: Mawwmmm? I have to go potty! NOW!

Me: Look, a unicorn!

Something To Occupy Your Time While I Pretend To Write A Blog Post

2011-06-14T10:25:00.000-05:00

Go here now.

Comment on my sister's pictures and tell her how fabulous she is.

Then, come back here and comment on how beautiful Avery is.

Then, you win.....

Nothing.

My Homemade Window Seat In Action

2011-06-09T12:00:00.001-05:00

I'm so happy Mom decided to channel her inner Martha and make a window seat

Oh, hai Sissy! Why is Mom excitedly pointing at an imaginary bunny outside yelling LOOK OUTSIDE AVERY, WHAT'S OUTSIDE?! Um, nothing dumbass.

I'm bored. How about I eff with Sis. Heh heh.

Tickle tickle tickle

HAHAHAHAHA I'm so awesome! Wait, where's the camera? Cheese, mama! Cheese! CHEESE, MAMAAAAAAAAAAAA!

I'm Alive And I Drew You A Picture

2011-06-08T19:44:00.000-05:00

I got an email the other day from one of the few people I know IRL that actually are aware of this little pile of shit corner of the innernet that I inhabit asking me if I had started a truly anonymous blog.

Nope.

I just haven't been around here lately.

I have no excuse other than:

1) it's nice out and I'd rather be ~~tanning~~ playing with the kids
2) I've actually been semi-ish busy at work
2) I'm tired
7) it's nice out
3) I'm lazy and haven't even loaded the pictures from Avery's birthday party onto the computer yet
0) I seriously need a laptop

I have a lot of blog posts rolling around in my vodka brain I just can't seem to find the motivation slash stroke of witty genius to write them out.

I seriously considered devoting a post to Britney and how I'm just like her, no seriously I am, I could lip sync the bejeezus out of an entire concert, trust me. OH but minus the crazies and bald head obvi. But, I am one step closer to Britneyism because my fingernail polish has gone to shit. Isn't that sad that when I look at my crackhead polish I think of Britney?

Also, isn't it sad that I look at my fingernail polish and the first thing that comes to my mind is: I'm just like Britney! Woh, I should seriously write a blog post about this. I. am. genius.

And now I've gone and actually devoted an entire blog post to fingernail polish and Britney.

Randomness is pretty much what describes my thoughts.

Anystupidity, since I know like 87% of you are going to skim through this and skip to the bottom in an effort to leave some kind of comment relating to this post I leave you with this:

Dear Avery:

2011-06-01T10:26:00.000-05:00

Today is your second birthday.

Excuse me one second while I go cry into my coffee because I can't believe my baby is two.

TWO!

You are one amazing little girl, you know it?

Yes, you know it.

Alexa would like to think she's in charge but deep down we all know who is really is. The only time she gets to boss you around is when your 'playing house' but even then you are secretly bossing her around by fake crying and making her run around like a chicken with her head cut off trying to keep up with your demands.

She may be reconsidering this whole 'Mom' thing.

Not me, though, even when you are taking your diaper off in the middle of the hallway, peeing, then running into the bathroom to sit on the toilet. Guess what child, you're supposed to pee in the toilet. I even bought you a fancy pants toilet seat to pee on. Use it!

Also, if you could start talking that would make both our lives so much easier.

Your vocabulary consists of "Up! Up! Up mama!" and "no no sissy" and "juice" for everything even though your current favorite is chocolate milk, thanks to Sis, so when I get you juice you throw a giant fit and refuse to drink the damn juice.

On the other hand, though, you are rather polite. You just started saying "please" rather than signing it. And you never miss saying "bess yew mama" when I sneeze (and then pee a little thanks to you and your sister).

You'll figure it out soon enough. You seem to be a perfectionist and would rather practice the word in your head and then only bust it out after it meets your requirements.

You're funny, entertaining, and you seem to know what you want, when you want it, and aren't afraid to ask or just throw a screaming fit until some poor soul figures out what you need. Usually Sis.

She loves you so much and would rather give you the toy than see you sad.

She helps you when you need it.

And she loves reading to you and snuggling with you on the floor to watch TV.

She sneaks you into snuggling by playing house and setting up a pillow and blanket for you and then crawling in next to you and just simply enjoying your presence.

You love giving out hugs and running up to Dad with a sparkle in your eye and complete excitement in your voice. He melts every. time.

You complete us.

Out perfect little family of four was realized when you were put into our lives.

We love you Avery Jo!

Happy Birthday!

Love,
Mom

Somebody Else Title This Please

2011-05-19T11:00:00.000-05:00

I can't seem to put any of my thoughts into a nice and neatly packaged with a cherry on top blog post for you so instead you get brain vomit.

You're welcome.

Last night I had a dream I was pregnant and was PISSED that I was pregnant, because seriously you guys that ship has sailed, so anyways, I left Josh and became gay. I woke up still mad I was pregnant but totally kosher with my newfound sexuality. Quick...somebody google that and tell me what my subconscious is trying to tell me. I'm too tired and lazy to do it right now.

If Google says it's because I actually want to be pregnant and gay, please punch Google in the uterus. It's wrong on at least 75% of that analysis.

Also, Mom and Dad I apologize for my bluntnessosity. Aren't you proud?

Wanna know why I'm 137% sure I'm done having children?

1) I'm super selfish and loving the newfound freedom of having olderish kids.
2) That's pretty much it.

OH, and the fact that my girls are little, um, how do I put this nicely, shitheads.

Alexa has taken to sneaking things out IN HER SHOE when I tell her she can't bring something to the babysitter's.

Example numero uno - a couple weeks ago she hoarded her little diamond ring my mom got for her that's only to be worn on special occasions and when I can compulsively check it's still on her finger out in her shoe and then wore it all day at the babysitter's. Yeh, that ring has been banned from her finger for awhile.

Example number dos - this morning she slipped on her boots in the frigid 70 degree air and when I told her to change them a little heart shaped sparkle eye makeup packet came out along with her foot and dignity.

I almost applauded her for her effort.

I then considered telling her that if she ever tries to sneak pot out in her shoe when she gets older I'll cut her feet off.

Dear DHS: I'm only half kidding.

And Avery is....still Avery.

Her new favorite thing to do is pick her nose and eat it. I guess the silver lining to that is, at least she isn't painting her wall with them.

OK, that's enough mental vomit for now.

Send vodka and Xanax please.

Monday Minute

2011-05-16T13:55:00.000-05:00

Sooo, another Monday Minute has arrived which has seemed to become my only postings as of late. Sorry about that. And, I can't guarantee there will be any more this week because they're working me like a slave and since I do 99.99% of my blogging at work, I might not get around to it.

Do you hear what I hear?
If you just heard a fart then yes.

How will I know if he really loves me?
With flower petals, duh.

Have you ever really loved a woman?
I've been told I'm in love with myself, so I guess so.

Is this the real life?
No, it's most likely just fantasy.

Is this just fantasy?
See above answer.

Peace out.

Monday Minute

2011-05-09T10:43:00.000-05:00

It's once again time for the Monday Minute hosted by Ian over at The Daily Dose of Reality.

Come one come all and let's play the linky link game.

1 - Since so many of you were so willing to wrestle naked with another member of the same sex for a million dollars, let's say we double it to $2,000,000 and put it on PPV for all to see. Still willing?

If The Hubs ok's it (which he wouldn't) and if I got to have a couple shots first and the TV can't be widescreen or high def or on.

2 - You just found a $100 bill on the ground while walking around your neighborhood. What's your first thought to do with the money?
Finder's keepers.
3 - Mother's Day ~~is coming up~~ has come and gone. Name one thing you learned from your Mother that you'd like to share.
Sugar cookies are not meant to be homemade, that's too big of a pain in the ass.

4 - We all know that Nickelback, Kiss, Creed, Rush, the Foo Fighers and Axl Rose suck ass, name another band that should be added onto this famed list.
Kanye douchewest
5 - Have you ever had a zit on your ass?
Hasn't everybody had a dingleberry on their ass?

Thoughts?

I've Got Crabs, More Specifically, I've Got One Crab

2011-05-04T20:38:00.000-05:00

Remember how I said I intended to get some pillows to make my window seats happy which in turn make your asses happy? You don't remember? Pay attention, people.

Well, I got some.

One in particular is my favorite (don't tell the others) and everyday I look at it and smile. It makes my heart happy. I intend to propose someday soon.

Sorry Josh, I'm leaving you for a crab pillow and the DVR.

Meet Krusty:

Krusty rocks. The sexy dark purple one in the background rocks. My camera sucks donkey balls.

I love it. You love it. Come over and sit on his face, he doesn't care.

The first time Alexa saw it she started screaming 'SPIDER! SPIDER!'

And I'm all, where?! you're really freaking out it must be gigantic! Alexa, I don't see it, where is it? Is it on me? ZOMG it's on me, isn't it!?

After about a minute of dramatic freak out I figured out she was talking about Krusty.

Thank God because spiders = eight legged freaks that make me pass out.

Like that one time my mom thought there was a spider nest in my couch because she saw two on it, I considered burning that mofo to the ground BUT instead I put on my game face and tore it apart and found...nothing. Drama.

Anyridonkulousity

Krusty. Respect.

My New Purchase That I Almost Died, Um, Purchasing

2011-05-03T11:34:00.000-05:00

Ring ring

Hello?

Hi, what's going on?

Not much, just feeding the girls some supper.

*glances at clock notices it's 7:15 which is waaaaay past supper time, resists the urge to say something about it* Oh yeh, what's for supper.

Chicken nuggets.

Of course.

....

Well, what if I told you I am lost over by PV schools?

What are you doing way over there?

Buying some chairs I found on Craigslist.

I see.

I can hear the side-eye through the phone, Josh.

Well, where are you?

I don't know, I'm lost. I headed north on Middle Road and just hoped for the best.

Why didn't you turn on 53rd?

Because I thought I was smarter than my GPS and I was distracted because I was thinking about the 3000000001 calorie fried chicken bacon cheese honey mustard orgasm of a sandwich I just ate that's making me feel really fat. I can seriously feel my thighs expanding as we speak.

So, you must be way over by LeClaire or something do you see a McDonald's at the top of a hill?

No, Josh.

....

Oh, here's I-80 I know where I'm at.

OK

OH SHIT I'M GOING EAST AND I WANT TO BE GOING WEST AND MY CAR IS BEEPING CAUSE I'M ALMOST OUT OF GAS OR IT'S GOING TO EXPLODE IN FIVE SECONDS WHAT DO I DO WHATDOIDOWHATDOIDOCOMESAVEMEEEEEEEEE!

Just take the next exit and turn around.

Oh, right.

I did eventually make it home safely, in case you care.

Wanna see what I bought at a super shady house with super shady people (I am not being judgey they were fucking weird) eating super shady supper. I think it was the brains of puppies they sacrificed out back.

But Teisha - those are fucking ugly.

Yep, and the super shady serial killer duct taped the fabric on when she reupholstered because she was too busy, like, skinning goats or something.

BUT, I see loads of potential and I will definitely share the finished results with you.

I can feel your excitement through the innernet.

Monday Minute

2011-05-02T10:02:00.000-05:00

I'm playing the linky link game today and linking up with Ian over at ~~I Carried A Watermelon~~ The Daily Dose of Reality. He's had an identity crises of some sorts as of late and is making my vodka brain scurry to keep up with him. I followed him way back when he was at DDoR, then followed him at I Carried A Watermelon thinking I was following a woman but then soon realized it was him which was con.fu.sing. and now he's back at DDoR. Long story long run on sentence slash paragraph are you still even reading?, he's awesome and he's one of my two male followers which makes him like sparkle hearts awesome.

Aaaannnnnyways, he's back to hosting the Monday Minute where he makes up genius questions and then you make up genius answers. It's fun. Join in on the fun.

Onward:

1. Where aside from a toilet have you taken a dump? Explain.
I don't dump. Princesses leave rose smelling ass piles in the toilet.

2. At this point do you really think that Magic Johnson has HIV/AIDS?
Yes, he just has an unfair advantage.

3. Would you wrestle a member of the same sex, nude, in pudding for 10 minutes for one million dollars?
Definitely, especially since there was no mention of an audience.

4. Squash just doesn't sound very tasty. What say you?
Makes me hungry for strawberries.

5. Is it worth the effort?
If the outcome is a million dollars, then yes. Otherwise, meh.

Your turn.

Easter On The Farm

2011-04-28T21:41:00.000-05:00

I usually don't get too touchy feely or I love the universe all up in here but seriously, you guys, this Easter could not have been any better. Even if Bradley Cooper showed up on my doorstep dressed as the Easter bunny.

My heart was exploding with happiness and shooting rainbows and smiley's all over everybody's faces on Sunday. It was really rather awkward.

The weekend began with the news that my sister, bro-in-law, and nephews were staying at mi casa.

Rock. on.

Josh and Mitch commenced with their Easter tradition of drinking lots of Miller Lite, adjusting their junk, and talking about building crap. OH and since that one year they went and got themselves stuck in the pond and I found them in the kitchen in their boxers making breakfast at 4AM they haven't done that again.

Anycadbury.

Believe it or not the Easter Bunny stopped by and dropped off some goodies even though it was threatened about 2349874543 times that I could put in a call to the sacred bunny and tell him to skip our house because we have two naughty little girls living here. Lucky for them he had to stop anyway since my nephews were here.

The wand she asked to get from Santa; Bunny moves to the top of the 'awesome' list

First of many packages of skittles and chocolate eggs

The best shot of the two of them together. I give up.

Time for some grub

Then I forced the kids to do an Easter egg hunt because, seriously kids this is awesome the Easter Bunny came again! Why aren't you acting like you care? FOCUS!

Then we played. Why I put Avery in a white dress I'll never know.

Then we tried to get an awesome picture of all the kids....

We may, or may not, be idiots

So instead we put them on a bench and this picture rocks my face off. We have the coolest kids.

Off to the second Easter celebration of the day where we got to actually meet the ~~Creepy~~ Easter Bunny!

Then Alexa's favorite part of the day, hunting down the Easter Bunny.

This picture makes me laugh out loud everytime I look at it.

The weather here in Eastern Iowa is either Ass Cold, Flood, or Hot As Hell but somebody was in a good mood (ahem, Mother Nature) that day and blessed us with an exceptionally beautiful, sunny day which allowed us to grill out, play, and tote around the farm on the four wheeler. (Thanks for giving the kids' rides Shayla!)

It was glorious.

I absolutely love having everybody over and letting the kids run around ~~bat shit crazy~~ and just enjoy our time together. I'm so blessed to have all my family live so closely we get to see eachother all the time. That's what life is all about!

A Little Heartfelt Thank You Mixed With Drew Carey

2011-04-27T10:38:00.001-05:00

I just wanted to take a moment to welcome any new readers that have joined the Crazy family.

Welcome.

Here's some vodka. Make yourself at home. Just don't touch anything. And if you change the toilet paper roll I like it 'over.' I get the nervous twitches if it's under, Josh.

Rules and regulations...

1) Don't be an asshole.
2) If you make me laugh I will send you a pie. And probably follow you back.
3) I don't play the 'follow me, I'll follow you' game, I know that makes me an asshole and that's against the rules BUT I've never been very good at the whole "following the rules" garbage.

Moving the fuck on.

Also, to the RSS Feed readers. I see you and I love you.

Also also, to the person who found me by searching 'hot girls farting' GO AWAY. This is a family blog you perv.

Also times 3.14 squared, hello to the tens of people who have searched 'skittles vodka,' you've come to the right place. But, to the one person who searched 'why would you put skittles in vodka?' you lose a million dollars and the right to be my bestie. The answer is everything tastes better with vodka. Duh.

Also, because I can, I like to reply to my comments via email and more often than not I get the annoying 'noreply-comment@blogger.com' so fix this, people. Stat.

Now, moving on to something totally unrelated to anything ever.

Do you watch Drew Carey's Improv-A-Ganza on the Game Show Network?

If you answered no to this question you are missing out. Seriously.

Drew Carey is an unfunny doucheturd but his minions are hil.ar.ee.ous.

Watch it and thank me later. Preferably by sending me something pretty.

Stay tuned for my corny Easter post because seriously, that day couldn't have gotten any better (unless Bradley Cooper showed up on my doorstep dressed as the Easter bunny, drool) and it made my heart feel super happy.

Okey dokey artichokey.

Betty White: Old Person Extraordinaire

2011-04-22T15:03:00.000-05:00

I had a dream....

WAIT! Come back!

I know how hearing about other people's dreams is a gigantic suh-nooze fest but just relax.

Last night Betty White was a hotel lobby receptionist dinglehopper gal and she made me cry by being a gigantic bitch about me needing a key for my room.

Betty White MADE ME CRY

So, I woke up all pissed off at Betty White but then I remembered she says cool things like:

'Vodka's kind of a hobby'

Keep on, keepin' on Betty

THE END

Painting Easter Eggs: My Bout With Temporary Insanity

2011-04-20T21:54:00.000-05:00

The other morning I woke up and thought: 'Self, today would be a good day to test your anxiety tolerance and see just how much longer your brain will operate without Xanax.'

HEY GIRLS - LET'S PAINT EASTER EGGS! YEY!

'Self, maybe you should wait until the toddler is napping because that would be the non idiotic thing to do.'

'But self, Martha Stewart told me I could do it and besides I want pictures of her doing things other than painting the bathroom walls with wet toilet paper or throwing huge fits because I didn't get her juice fast enough.'

'Self, maybe you should drink that coffee, consider lacing it with vodka, and think about it a little while longer before you go jumping in head first into the crazy world of pastel dye. DYE THAT WILL PROBABLY END UP ON YOUR FACE AND CABINETS.'

'Nah. I feel like living life on the wild side today.'

Here goes nothing.

Waiting for the tablets to dissolve....

Still (im)patiently waiting

Channeling her inner Dr. Seuss and making a green egg

Gently putting the egg in

Sad face for the smurf hands

Still stirring the egg and dyeing her hands

Angry face for taking away the dye

"Dada, nono mama!"
Translation "That mean lady took away my dye! SOB! And your hat makes me want to vomit!"

Oh, stickers. Awesome.

Picasso

Gluing a sparkle face on her egg because, obviously sparkle egg faces are rockstars

OK girls, hold your eggs up and smile
Umm, good enough

Avery wasn't very careful with her 'ball'

I need a nap.

A Couple Updates You Could Care Less About

2011-04-19T19:32:00.000-05:00

There have been a few new additions in casa de Fabulous that I've neglected to tell you about.

The kind of addition that doesn't need it's ass wiped or demand juice all day long.

I'm talking about pillows and hardware.

Oh yeh. Real hardcore stuff baby.

Anyways, on to the assault on your eyeballs.

First up - cabinet hardware. My old shit was nasty and ugly.

See:

Nasty and ugly

Sleek and sexy and super cheap = true cabinet love

Enough about hardware, as Jay-Z would say, 'on to the next one'

Before

After

What a difference a couple of pillows make. Makes my eyeballs super happy.

And on to the next one.

My first and most likely last DIY project that involved wood and staples and fabric and sweat and tears and vodka.

I have two gigantic bay windows that had sad lonely window seats that I've been wanting to make happy with cushions for people to rest their butts.

Did you know custom made cushions for huge windows cost a shit ton of money?

I don't have that kind of money, so I got the bright idea to make them.

*Lightbulb!*

But then I remembered I can't sew a button on shirt much less a huge fancy cushion. So what do I do?

Step 1) Gather my supplies

Foam, fabric, stapler and plywood

Step 2) Do lots of stapling and cutting and grunting and wondering why in the hell I didn't just buy the damn cushions

Step 3) Step back and admire my work

They are nothing fancy but they will make your butts happy and they made my wallet happy by costing a whopping 25 dolla dolla bills each. Versus, like, $300 each for custom made. That'll do donkey.

A couple points:

- I intend to buy some more throw pillows to cover the wonky edges and make a more finished look

I guess that's only one point but deal with it.

Josh had a couple opinions, like, 'oh I thought they would be cushier' and 'why didn't you angle them out?' Then he saw the daggars flying out of my eyes and quickly told me he loved them.

They weren't easy. I'd say an hours work each but well worth it.

So, there you have it. What I've been doing to brush up on my interior decorating skills for my next life when I come back as Nate Berkus.

Favorite Things: Part Dos

2011-04-19T13:53:00.000-05:00

It has come to my attention that I wasn't very fair to Avery on that last post.

Avery told me in her own way (by threatening my life with her plastic play knife that came with a super duper old kitchen set that was probably long ago recalled) that I need to give her some damn credit.

Then she threw her sippy at me and demanded 'shoosh' *juice, duh*

Sooooo

Avery's favorite things:

Turning Alexa's radio up and dancing like nobody's watching
Gravel traveling
Getting everybody's shoes lined up for said gravel travel trips
Playing "house" with Alexa...it's the only time she lets Alexa boss her around
Playing outside
Reading lots and lots of books
Making people laugh
Giving Alexa hugs and love if she's sad
Laughing at me if I'm sad
Getting herself dressed
Greeting whoever is at the door with a huge smile and a "HI!"

There, now, Avery will you please free me from these shackles?

Favorite Things: Part One

2011-04-12T19:47:00.000-05:00

You know those lists good moms do, like, monthly or whatever to document their kids' milestones and favorite things and such? I wish I would have done those with Alexa and Avery. *sigh*

BUT, it's never too late to start right?

So, here are a few of Avery's favorite things:

Taking her diaper off and shitting everywhere
Pulling Sis' hair
Spitting when she doesn't get her way
Pointing at me saying 'No mama'
Taking all her clothes off, putting Alexa's rain boots on and running around the house
Coloring on everything except the paper
Unfolding the folded laundry
Turning the TV off and on to piss her sister off
Launching her sippy at my face when it's empty

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

MS Paint = Happiness. Also: The Day I Got Twat Hacked Which Is Oddly Not Nearly As Bad As It Sounds.

2011-04-07T20:35:00.000-05:00

You guys, did you know that MS Paint is like, the best thing ever invented in the history of all the innernet and your face? Of course you did! And you assholes didn't even have the decency to fill me in on this hidden little secret that's not so secret it just requires somebody who isn't a dumbass to realize it's there waiting to be used.

Soooo, in honor of me coming across this hidden gem the other dizzle at work I drew you some pictures and wrote you a story.

I can seriously feel your excitement and anticipation radiating through the computer screen.

That's not excitement? It's diarrhea? Bummer for you.

Okey dokey.

In the beginning when I was a wee little 28 year old I signed up for The Twitter because it's what all the cool kids and celebrities and Kim K. were doing.

Aaaaand, I decided I'm not a real big fan. I couldn't really even tell you why besides there's just so much being said on The Twitter if you divert your eyes for even half a second you're lost and like, that was soooo five minutes ago #WINNING.

Jump to weeks later I start this here thing called a blog

that I've been neglecting

and I'm all 'I'm a social media queen, this blog needs a twitter page!'

Aaaaand, I'm still not a huge fan besides in a creepy stalker kind of way.

But, remember the old twitter page that I started when I was a wee little lad?

Yeh, it got jealy of the new page and started sending my followers (ummm, all 18 of them, four of whom I know IRL) spam. *gasp*

Exhibit A

Melissa replies to my spammer direct message with a 'Wtf! Is this a joke?!'

And at first I'm all dazed and confused

Exhibit B

because unbeknownst to me I had sent her a direct message with a link attached to it trying to convince her the job of her dreams was just a click away.

I can be such an asshole.

So, I finally get to the root of the matter and figure out it's the old twitter account that's fucking with my friends so first I change my password but then just decide to deactivate it even though Twitter begs me not to go.

A couple hours later I get a BBM from another friend.

Exhibit C

This time around I was less confused and more 'nope, I kicked those twitter hackers in the taco'

Then she points and laughs at me and says 'you need to update your totally awesome completely fabulous blog' (I may have paraphrased that part a little)

And, lucky for her, my twat got hacked and I found my new BFF MS Paint so I finally had something to write about.

That One Time I Played Chicken With A Cow

2011-03-29T05:00:00.003-05:00

It's been awhile since I've talked about my roommates. Roommates being the gigantic smelly fly producing assholes that live in my backyard. Cows. Moo.

I love living on a farm. Some of my best memories of when I was a kid are from when we lived on farm 'til I was like five or something. Yep, my best memories from childhood are from when I was five.

BUT - there's a monumental difference of living on a 'working farm' from living on a 'house in the middle of nowhere that we'll just call a farm because we don't know what else to call it because it has fences and barns that inhabit no more than spiders and dust but, eh, what else are we supposed to call it?' Aaaaaand, the only house within walking distance was my grandma's. Fuckin' awesome, right? Grandma and cats on a non smelly farm = awesome.

Anymaggot

My hubs is a bonafide farmer. It's in his blood. Which I firmly believe is the only way farming is still alive because the people that do it work their asses off. That and the fact that the general population would go on strike against the universe if they couldn't get their steaks and corn and food anymore.

Holy crap, I can not stay on point.

This post was supposed to be funnyish but instead I've gone off on some sort of tangent.

SOOOOOOOOO moving on.

I really don't have much to do with the farm thing. He plays with his cows and corn and cock (rooster, just kidding, we don't have chickens) and I buy shoes and rearrange the house. It's just our thing.

But, if the need arises I will help. With a smile on my face and my Wal Mart shitkickers on my feet.

Yesterday (I have Monday's off - now you know) went something like this.

4:45 Josh gets home from his (semi) day job of electrician.

     I have never been more happy to see you truth the kids have been taken over by, like, the devil or Charlie Sheen or something equally as horrifying. Let's go for a drive.

     OK, I just need to get this one calf in that needs a shot because yada yada yada sorry I quit listening right about here, use your imagination

     I'll help you because it will most likely be good blog fodder

     OK - I can probably get it in myself, but just in case go ahead and change out of the clothes you were wearing yesterday *side-eye* and put some jeans on.

     Don't be an asshole.

     ..... = time passing mmmkay

     OK, what am I supposed to do?

     Stand here and wave your arms and yell.

     10-4.

     *Josh proceeds to herd them towards the gate*

     AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, HOLY SHIT JOSH I'M GONNA DIE THEY ARE COMING RIGHT AT ME.

Lather, rinse, repeat about four or five more times all while Josh is yelling obscenities like, "stupid fuckin' rip" or "you dumb ass bitch" (at the cows, not me, he knows better)

     How about you stand here and yell and I'll herd them towards you.

     There's lots of cow shit down there.

     Are you serious!? I'm standing in cow shit up to my nose. I can handle it.

First try, we got them in. My way worked better. Let me say that again, I WAS RIGHT AND I'M A GENIUS AND JOSH NEEDS TO BOW DOWN AND KISS MY FEET AND CLEAN FOR A WEEK STRAIGHT.

At least then he wouldn't have to play with his cock.

Hahahaha.

Yikes.

So, what have we learned.

1) I'm always right.

THE END

It's Friday, Bitches!

2011-03-25T11:38:00.001-05:00

I cut all ties with the S.I.T.S. website today.

Meaning I unfollowed them. I know, gasp.

I came to the realization that I would never ever in the history of blogging get featured.

Ever.

Also: I'm ok with that. I don't write for *them* I write for me. And writing for me involves sarcastic possibly offensive but not meant to be offensive thoughts that include lots of cuss words. It's just how I roll.

Anyways, I wrote them a haiku to bid my farewell.

S.I.T.S. site not for me

Possibly in another

life. Check ya later.

So, that's the end of that chapter.

What's your plans for the weekend?

I've got none, so I'll probably take Alexa shopping and rearrange my house out of boredom.

Stay tuned for pics.

Speaking of pics

Chicago makes my heart happy. So does taking touristy pictures with gorillas.

Bread dipped in vodka. Vom.

If you're interested in reading my sister's recap of Chicago and checking out where I stole the pictures from you can do that here.

Happy weekend!

Chicago By Numbers

2011-03-23T09:06:00.000-05:00

*Names were changed to protect the innocent*

Mom = my mom
Fabulous = Me, duh
Jessica = Jessica, my younger sis
Shayla = Shayla, my youngest sis

Fine, so no names were really changed because I couldn't think of any clever ones in the 2.3 seconds I searched my brain for something witty to fly out.

MOVING ON.

326 = round trip miles driven to get to destination.

1 = beer spilled on Mom's boots while filling the cooler before the trip.

3.2 = miles driven before getting lost and we had to remind a certain beer smelling - NOT INFLUENCED - driver she could simply take the next exit to get us on the right highway rather than whipping several shitters, risking life, limb, and good hair to go all the way back through town to get us there.

1 = fart a certain Fabulous emitted and was therefore instructed to roll down the window for the love of skunks only to be accosted by the freshly spread hog shit in the field. That'll teach you guys to just smell my rosy shit rather than roll down the damn windows.

1130somethingish = time we finally arrived to Chicago Friday night.

16 = total number of luggage totes/coolers/camera bags/and all that jazz

25 = times I was made fun of for making notes on the crackberry regarding blog points about the wacked out trip (side-eye Jessica).

1456321374687 = miles walked while shopping our butts off. Give or take a few.

362.10 = dolla dolla bills I brought thanks to the overflowing change jar I cashed in before we left.

-56.74 = dolla dolla bills I came home with.

20,845 = calories consumed in a 2 day span. (Dear Giordano's: you rock my taste buds off)

1 = times Mom yelled at me for 'acting drunk' whatever Mom, all I did was throw my bread in my martini because you told me to and then proceed to eat it.

107 = minutes waiting in line to get to the top of the Sears/Willis/who gives a shit tower.

1,353 = feet in the air I stood out over Chicago and then peed my pants because that is some scary ass shit.

1 = awkward revelation that a certain someone has a certain ingrown toenail fetish which made me laugh for a long time. Still laughing and barfing, certain someone.

2 = conversations always going at the same time which may, or may not have, confused certain people at certain times. Ahem, Shayla.

1 = drunken conversation regarding anginas vs. inginas vs. outginas which are a pen!s, logically.

0 = reasons I can think of to justify the ability to grafitti this blog with fuck and fart but I CAN NOT get myself to write pen!s. For fear of, you know, creepers and wankers.

0 = pictures I took because I HATE MY CAMERA and Jessica took a hundred thousand with her Cadillac of cameras so I hope to just steal those whenever they get posted. Hint hint.

Mommy Rant

2011-03-16T10:30:00.001-05:00

Being a mom is hard.

She preaches to the choir.

But, being a mom who still has her own identity and is absolutely fabulous is even harder yet.

People tend to judge those moms and shoot them the side-eye from atop their pedestal. And by people I typically mean other mom's, who are no better than the bullies taunting their kid in school.

Why is that? What sort of satisfaction do they get from putting another mom down because she went out with a group of her girlfriends and left her kids home with The Husband? Or, didn't rush home after work but instead went grocery shopping alone (mini mom vacation minus the umbrella drinks) or met an old friend for supper (and had an umbrella drink).

I see and hear a lot of mom's, on blogs and IRL, that get off on picking fights because this mom or that mom doesn't do exactly as she does.

Like breast or bottle. Or co-sleep vs. separate beds. Or Benadryl vs. Tylenol. I'm ~~half~~ kidding. Or cry it out vs. a more attachment parenting approach.

To all of these topics I say, I DON'T GIVE A FUCK. As long as you're doing what feels right to you and you're not beating the shit out of your kids or starving them because, duh, then you really do suck at life and need a swift punch to the taco.

Side-note: in all honesty I will shoot you the side-eye and whisper behind your back if your five year old lifts up your shirt to take a sip of the goodness. AWKWARD.

I have never met a mom who's first priority in life isn't making their kids happy. Have you? We all want what's best for our kids.

We just may have different opinions on what that is.

Also, only making your kids happy and losing yourself in the process is no bueno. Your happiness and well-being is just as important as your kids' and husbands' and Charlie Sheen's is. If that means happy pills or a little wine and a good book or all of the above then by all means, indulge yourself. You deserve it.

Do not let anybody tell you that you're being selfish for going out and getting that mani/pedi that you want. Or that you don't deserve to get dressed up and go out for drinks with the girls. Or on a date The Hubs. Do it. Your soul will thank you.

Be who you are, be real, and make no apologies for that.

::hops down from soap box::

Mom, I Have To Tell You The Truth...

2011-03-14T15:27:00.000-05:00

Alexa: "MOMOMOMOMOMOM, you won't believe this! Avery dumped the whole box out on to the floor!"

Me: *grumbles* "What did she do now?"

Me: "That's really nice of you to help her pick them up!"

Alexa: "Mom, I have to tell you something. I have to tell you the truth."

Me: "Yes, you always have to tell me the truth."

Alexa: "I told her to dump them out."

I Am Having A Hard Time Coming Up With A Title Other Than An Interior Designer Wannabe Shaken With Some Yin And Yang. Just Roll With It.

2011-03-11T05:00:00.001-06:00

I recently learned something about myself that reinforces the fact that I am either 1) really super fucked up in the head or 2) should probably look into a real life flesh and blood judgey therapist rather than using this blog as free therapy or 3) all of the above.

While rearranging my living room(s) for approximately the 17th time in a few days span shut it Josh, Sis and I did 86% of the work I realized I can not stand it when things are off center.

Like, it makes my blood boil and I get an overwhelming urge to throw stuff.

Is there a name for that? Isn't it, like, chi or zen or cheech and chong or something? I tried asking Google but I couldn't come up with effective search terms. Searching for 'Chinese word for balance' got me nowhere. Then I got a little shady and was all 'Asian description for being fucked up in the head' and that just got me some Eminem lyrics and XXX sites. Because, obviously.

We have a fireplace in one room that my mind required the couch to be centered with. Also, a bay window in that same room that my brain screamed the love seat had to be centered with and seriously, OCD, you suck giant donkey balls.

After a few days work accompanied by sore muscles, lots of vodka, and laundry piling up because I still can't figure out a way to make it do itself I think I have it figured out.

See:

Living Room

Pool Room

One last little touch that has to get done super fast before I tear out my own eyeballs in a fit of hysteria is fixing this:

Off center shelf hanging over the piano needs to get moved like 8 inches to the left. The fate of the entire world rests on this one little fact.

Doesn't that drive you crazy? No? Just me?

Side note - anybody wanna take bets on when I can get Josh to actually help me with this? If you guess any time frame within the next month or year or ever you will lose. IT'S CALVING SEASON, TEISHA, I HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO SIT IN THE PASTURE WITH BEER AND A SPOTLIGHT TO WATCH THE COWS.

Also, these rooms are still evolving - like the drab wood paneling in the pool room. I want to paint it so bad but that is going to require a lot of work and I'm just not into that kind of thing. Hopefully someday I can pay somebody to do it. Happy dance.

Alrighty then. I like how it turned out and I feel like the rooms are more spacious and better equipped to serve their purpose of, you know, sitting your happy ass in.

What bothers you about your furniture placement or do you take the cheech and chong approach and just not really give a shit?

Duuuuuuude. Eating these cheetos on this couch in this living room is the best. thing. ever.

Peace out.

Caption This

2011-03-10T12:58:00.000-06:00

Round two.

I first saw this genius idea being done over at JG's place.

And since I liked it, I stole it.

Now, if you'll remember you guys kind of failed the first go round because instead of just making it a free for all I added rules to my game and you didn't follow the rules.

And I know, rules suck but this is my house therefore my rules.

Anyways, it's cool, we can still be innernet friends.

I did change it up a teensy bit and am using my own pictures (or pictures tagged of me on Facebook because by default I earn the right to use them if I was tagged, right?) because Lord knows there's a thousand million of them.

I want the caption to be from the perspective of a children's tv/book/movie/whatever character or at least reference one because, well, I just do. Remember, this is a family blog. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Gettin' ready to shoot us some Bubble Guppies

Jase shoots Alexa the side eye and thinks to himself: what did I get myself in to?

Your turn.

And, I'm waiting on permission from Ms. Macbook to use Jase's face so hopefully I don't get in trouble from her for this.

Princesses, Poo, Life Lessons & Kissing. Yes, They Are All Related Somehow.

2011-03-08T12:35:00.000-06:00

Princesses rule our house.

I'm Queen Princess of the Universe. obvi.

Alexa is Princess of Attitude.

Avery is Princess of Bossy.

Lexi (again, people, the dog not the daughter) is Princess of Stupid.

Josh is, ummmmmm, Prince of Dirt.

We have approximately 4954562984 Princess movies and every once in a mermaid sighting I get to watch something full of the awesome like Shrek or Charlie Sheen.

We have dollies, and barbies, and bunnies OH MY.

Estrogen overload.

The other day I came to the realization of how much these things, specifically the Disney Princess movies, influence Alexa.

While she's sitting on the shitter, taking a poo, AKA place to think deep thoughts....along with the shower, she asked why Dad and I got married.

     Because we were young and dumb and BTW cow shit does not smell like money, JOSH. Chill out I didn't *actually* say that, she can learn to be a cynic without my help. It went more like: well, because we love each other and when two people love each other they get married.

     And then you kiss *accompanied by obnoxious kissy face and noises*

Huh. Well yeh, I guess. Way to mock me while your taking a shit, girlfriend.

She definitely learned the kissy crap from the Disney movies. She also learned that it's totally ok to live with seven little men and do all the cooking and cleaning. Thanks Snow White.

She thinks everything can come back to life after death with a kiss.

I wish it worked that way.

That was her answer when I caught her making out with her Barbie.

     Mahhhhmmm, she died, I was makin' her be awake.

*Note to self - buy a Ken doll so he can save Barbie when she dies*

*UPDATE to note to self - Ken Barbie is now a part of our Barbie family and Ken and Barbie seriously need to find a room because ENOUGH WITH THE PDA ALREADY!*

Anysmooch.

We went to a wedding over the weekend and wouldn't you know it, if I had a nickel for everytime Sis asked 'when are they gonna kiss?' I would have, at least $.57. You figure it out.

After the wedding and the kissing there was lots of this:

"I got it from my mama"

Avery decided to get up and dance after she realized she couldn't pick up the colored dots on the floor.

And a little more kissing:

Lovin' me some baby nephew

So, yeh, if I weren't so against being pregnant again and all that jazz I would consider adding a little testosterone to the family, instead I think I'll just invest in cotton.

Alexa's Minute

2011-03-01T10:46:00.001-06:00

Dear Diary:

Sorry I haven't written in you for like, ever, I've just been really busy playing Barbies and teaching Avery all the important things in life, like how to fart on command and spin around really fast and fall on the floor because that is so awesome and it tickles. HAHAHAHAHAHA. Mom hates it when we do that 'cause she claims somebody (side-eye Avery) is going to fall and crack their head open or something. RELAX MOM.

Mom and I haven't been getting along real well lately.

She freaks out about everything. She's usually spouting off about listening to her and I have to ask her what she said because I wasn't listening but whatevs. I'm busy playing on the 'puter or coloring and plotting how I'm going to take over the world someday.

On second thought, though, we have been doing some pretty fun things lately....like going shopping and she always buys me something. She is such a pushover. And then she goes on and on and on about how much she likes having me along and I'm all, yeh, so what are you gonna buy me? No, DIARY, I'm not spoiled. Who's side are you on?

Sometimes I might overreact (if you tell Mom I admitted that I'll rip you up and throw you in a fire, don't test me) about things.

Like the other day when Mom found her nail file I had broken in half, taped back up and stashed underneath the couch.

And she was totally cool about it but my heart felt really guilty so I had a major meltdown.

Like 6.3 on the richter scale (note to self: ask google what the heck a richter scale is) MAJOR.

And also the old stinky pull-ups I had stashed underneath the bed. It's just that I KNOW I'm old enough to be tinkling in the toilet at night I just don't wake up until after the fact. She's all 'it's ok, you'll figure it out someday' but it's frustrating to me.

Almost every morning we argue about what I'm going to wear. I always want to wear a skirt or a dress (because I'm fabulous, duh) but sometimes Mom will be all, THERE'S NO SKIRTS CLEAN YOU HAVE TO WEAR SOMETHING ELSE and she claims I can't dig through the hamper to find one. Whatever, Mom.

Seriously, being a four and a half year old is hard yo.

OH, one more thing.

I asked Mom this question the other day but she just kind of giggled and had a hard time answering so....

OHMYGOSH, why did that cow get on the other cow?!?

Princess farts and sparkles,
Alexa

It Was A Hoof, JOSH

2011-02-24T20:47:00.000-06:00

I've already told you guys before that I am not much of a cook.

I probably could be, but 1) I'm super lazy and 2) cooking is messy = me cooking *and* cleaning = lasers shooting out of my eyeballs at everybody within 100 feet of me.

Every once in awhile Josh gets fed up with the mac n cheese, chicken nuggets, spaghetti, and leftover rotation and he decides he's going to cook.

He goes into the basement and comes up with:

1) a fucking hoof
     What is that?

     Ham.

     No it isn't. It's a hoof.

     For christ sake Teisha, it's a not a hoof.

     Sure looks like a hoof.

2) ground pork

and

3) a roast....

at 6:00 at night, when Avery is somewhere between turning into a werewolf and gnawing her own arm off.

Feed me you assholes!

     What am I supposed to do with these?

     Nothing, I'm going to cook them.

     *Side-eye* Mmm hmm - I'm not eating hoof.

Genius decides he's going to throw the hoof in the oven, after Chef Google tells him to do so. He had to ask Chef Google because I informed him I DON'T KNOW HOW TO COOK A HOOF JOSH AND EVEN IF I DID I'M GOING TO BE A STUBBORN JACKASS AND NOT HELP YOU.

... = hours passing by

... = mac n cheese for the girls and I

... = bathtime

*Ding*

     Sweet! The ham is done! Try it, it's really good.

     Absolutely not, I don't feel like eating hoof and dying today.

He tried convincing me it was a 'joint' or a 'shoulder' or a 'completely edible piece of Porky' but I wasn't buying it.

Just like that one time my family told me the alligator tasted like chicken.

I'll take your word for it, family.

On a related note:

Redneck goulash:

Those ingredients mixed together.

Ta da!

You can thank me later.

Have You Seen This?

2011-02-24T11:57:00.001-06:00

Best viewed with vodka and Depends.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Shopping, Farts, And Justin Bieber.

2011-02-22T12:40:00.001-06:00

Wouldn't you know it? This weekend didn't end up with me at the hospital! 1,000,046 points awarded to me and Justin Bieber. Why Bieber? Because he finally got rid of that reverse side swept bowl cut that kind of made me want to smack a bitch - like Danielle Staub, or Perez Hilton.

Another 411 points awarded to me for most pop culture references in a single paragraph that have nothing to do with each other or Britney.

This post is already spiraling out of control.

Anyhousewife.

Instead of visiting the ER I opted instead to take Alexa shopping on Saturday.

Avery was stuck checking cows and playing farmer with Josh.

And by saying she was 'stuck' with him I'm insinuating that she doesn't enjoy it. Quite the opposite, though, because she looooooves checking out the 'ows' that 'moooo' and OMG DAD DAD DAD PUPPPPPPPYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY! Best. Day. Ever.

Sis was stuck with me. Again, by 'stuck' (that word is already losing its meaning) I mean, MOM MOM MOM LOOK AT THE PRETTY DRESSES, CAN I WEAR A DRESS LIKE THAT WHEN I GET OLDER AND MOM MOM MOM STOP RIGHT HERE IN THE MIDDLE OF EVERYBODY AND LOOK AT THIS COOKIE CAKE HEART ATTACK WITH DECORATIONS I WANT FOR MY BIRTHDAY - AND oh mirror, stop and check myself out AND CAN I PLEASE GET SOMETHING? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE?

If you're good you can. Don't judge me.

So, Sis and I went shopping, ate hot dogs and drank smoothies. She picked out a tiara (shocking) and I got a few shirts from Express and a dress from Target that I wore out that night.

Sunday we painted our nails and lounged around in our jammies all day. I love those days. I think I read approximately 423 pages and finished my book so now I'm moving on to the DVR to catch up on House and Modern Family and a few dozen other shows.

What should I read next?

Monday, aka yesterday, was spent prom dress shopping for my ~~littlest~~ youngest sis.

I can't say littlest because she's like 6' 1" or something ridiculous like that.

And wouldn't you know it? we found THE ONE. She had two criteria: 1) long enough and 2)not butt ugly. The one we found is totally gorge, although Alexa seems to think she should have gone with the hot pink number with silver metallic polka dots, an obnoxious bow on the shoulder and a frilly skirt. Sads for Alexa.

Dear Alexa, please change your taste in prom dresses before you have to go because I will not let you wear something ugly. And yes, you're free to express yourself, as long as you don't look like an idiot.

Moving on.

Yesterday took a weird turn when the girls got into a farting contest.

Alexa accidentally let one loose when she was attempting a handstand and because I'm a 12 year old boy I laughed. Hard. Not to be outdone, Avery gets red in the face and pushes out a huge one. Seriously, this went on for a good 4 or 5 farts each and I was completely baffled and out of breath from laughing so hard.

I might have even peed a little.

If I wouldn't have pushed each of them out of my vagina I would wonder if I'm actually their mother because farting in front of Josh is not an option.

Ever.

Do you fart in front of your significant other?

And I think I'll close with that.

To recap, there were two questions posed:

1) I need book recommendations

and

2) Farting in front of your mate. OK or completely embarassing?

Sort Of 25 Things About Me

2011-02-18T11:33:00.000-06:00

Linking up with this chick because she prompted a '25 things about me' list and I lurve lists. Especially on Friday's. And every other day.

1. I'm addicted to chapstick.
2. Sometimes I daydream about Dora, Diego, Map, Tuck, and the Fresh Beat Band kicking the shit out of eachother after a wild night of drinking the crazy sauce the Yo Gabba Gabba characters are obviously chugging backstage.
3. I've recently got back into reading since the kids are old enough to take care of themselves now. (One and a half is definitely old enough)
4. Speaking of reading, I'm currently reading The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest which is the last in the trilogy by Steig Larsson and I will have the super sads when I finish it because HOLY CRAP BEST BOOKS EVUH.
5. I have three tattoos.
6. I only regret one of them. coughcoughasscaptrampstampasdf,mnawrcoughcough
7. Other than that, I have no regrets.
8. Besides everything else that happened before the age of 20.
9. I want more tattoos but don't want to spend the dolla dolla bills.
10. I am far more musically inclined than I am athletically. First chair (BAND GEEK ALERT!) saxophone in high school and I know my way around a piano.
11. Although I'm not athletic I am one of the most competitive people you will ever meet.
11B. I am always right.
11C. I will never ever ever *let* my kids win at a game I'm playing against them.
12. I want to be a wedding dress saleswoman when I grow up.
13. I'm super shy and worry waaaaay too much about what people think of me.
14. I'm slightly obssessed with pop culture.
25. Look! Something shiny!

Your turn.

Wanna Know What I Think? Don't Answer That.

2011-02-16T15:15:00.000-06:00

I've come to realize the blog world is one giant hairy ball of crazy ridiculousness.

Sort of like that paragraph sentence turned out to be.

I personally started blogging because my sis was doing it and I wanted to be as cool as her.

*wink wink*

Also, I needed a place to put down the random thoughts swimming around aimlessly in my vodka brain and I wanted an outlet to write the shit down about my kids that happens that I too soon forget about.

Like the fact that Avery's current favorite pastime is attempting to make her vagina talk. Also, taking all her clothes off, putting on her rain boots and running around the house screaming PUPPY! at everything she sees.

Dear Hypothetical Therapist:
Should I be worried?
Signed,
Dehydrated Mom Of Two

What I didn't realize about this alternate universe were the weird rules and regulations and unspoken laws that are out there and that the fact that it's a giant popularity contest.

I wasn't popular in high school, nor did I care to be.

Too much pressure, and besides my boobs weren't big enough. Also, fugly.

It makes me laugh. This crazy blogworld I've landed on.

Like the fact that people subscribe to a bunch of blogs, comment on all of them after only skimming the contents (like you assholes did with my Caption This post - more on this at a later date) and then moving on to the next blog in your reader like its just the normal way the blogiverse works.

However strange it is, I like it. I like being semi-anonymous and not feeling like I have to censor myself for fear of what some hater will spew at me. And if a hater decides to show his or her face I can virtually punch them in the face and delete their comment.

So, keep blogging, people. I will read because I have nothing better to do at work and I hope you will read me and find some sort of entertainment value from this here tiny space I'm living in in the blogiverse.

How This Weeks Conversation With My Hypothetical Therapist Would Go

2011-02-15T19:50:00.001-06:00

So, how are things since we last met?

Wellllll, pretty good, besides the fact that I had to make a short pit stop at the hospital Sunday night.

Oh really, what happened?

Let me start from the beginning....

*wavy transition into Teisha's dreamworld*

It started innocently enough, just like any other girl's night out.

There was dinner, drinks, laughter, and talking about people behind their back.

I had a raging headache so I decided to drink my Absolut cranberry a little slowly. (Pinky swears.)

After dinner we crashed a birthday party that ended up being pretty tame and we were on the prowl for wild and crazy that night, so we batted our eyelashes and left.

We ended up at the local bar, where some punk 21ish year old was hitting on me so I decided to notso nicely tell him he should quit his job at Family Dollar and go to school. Apparently by now the Absolut cranberries were going down a teensy faster.

Then we went up the road to the next town.

The next town?

Yes, doc, the next town. I live in BFE where we are lucky to have two bars per town. So, barhopping requires driving to the next town. Now, please don't interrupt my story again. Kthx.

The next bar was lame-o so I'm pretty sure we ended up texting each other about how seriously mental the place was.

So, you girls had split up?

No, doc, that's just how we roll. Duh. Texting while sitting next to each other is what the cool kids do.

Annnnyyyyywayyyys.

The night was a huge success.

Now comes Sunday.

Sunday was a FAIL.

I will spare you the deets but it involved a vomit marathon that I was losing. And moaning and groaning.

Come 7ish Sunday night I finally tell Josh I'm dying and we need to go to the hospital. At first he didn't believe me because *apparently* I can be slightly dramatic but after witnessing the tears streaming down my face and the fact I couldn't walk he changed his mind.

Jump to the longest. drive. ever.

By the time I got to the hospital my hands and feet were numb and I couldn't breathe.

You were hyperventilating, weren't you?

Yes, Mr. Knowitall, I was hyperventilating, but I didn't know it at the time so needless to say I WAS FREAKING THE FUCK OUT.

Sooo, they hook me up with oxygen and tell me to take deep breaths in through my nose, out through my mouth and I was all I'M FUCKING TRYING!

Do you have to use the F word so often?

*eyeroll* Yes, I do.

After I'm calmed down, the male nurse tries unsuccessfully to get an IV in me. Oh, no problem asshat, it's not like I'm having a bad night or anything. Try again, douche, I'll wait.

Finally get the IV in me and THREE BAGS! of fluids later they let me loose. Apparently I was dehydrated and going out and painting up the town is no bueno when one is dehydrated.

So what have you learned from this experience?

I've learned when I have a headache to begin the night, I should alternate water with my vodka.

Caption This

2011-02-11T09:46:00.000-06:00

I stole this idea from this dude. No, I didn't misspeak I actually have a male reader.

Two to be exact.

I think it's because I cuss and talk about poop too much but we'll just say it's because I'm mucho witty and an incredibly talented writer.

I couldn't even write that with a straight face.

Anysparkles.

The objective is to caption the picture (obvi) but I have rules.

*groans* I know. I hate rules too. Just bear with me.

The caption has to be spoken from the viewpoint of a children's television character.

I mean, this *is* a family blog after all.

BWAHAHAHAHA

I couldn't say that with a straight face either.

Entertain me, people.

Make it good.

"Uh, Map, you need to lay off the sauce 'cause you've been getting us into some shady situations lately." Says Dora.
"This is seewious." Says Ming Ming.

Your turn.

Go.

Photo credit. So I don't get sued.

Nothing To See Here, Keep Moving

2011-02-08T12:34:00.001-06:00

I have been absent from the blog for over a week now.

(She says to an empty blogosphere.) (Hello?) (Anybody out there?)

Whatever.

Hopefully all two of my readers will forgive my absence.

Nothing really blog worthy has been going on around here.

The kids have been behaving.

Josh hasn't fucked up.

I haven't ran out of chocolate or wine or misplaced by corkscrew.

Bad things happen when I misplace my corkscrew.

It usually ends with a frantic phone call to Josh claiming he needs to come home now, it's an emergency, only to get the side-eye when he finds me on the kitchen floor sweating my ass off wrestling with the screw driver stuck in the wine bottle while Alexa roots me on. Wow, those therapy bills are going to be HUGE.

Helping me get the wine open > his 'my heated shop is better than your heated shop' debate with the neighbor.

Moving on.

Other than Snowmaggedon that blew through here last Tuesday night, nothing has been happening.

Speaking of SnOMG, was that ever crazy?

I actually thoroughly enjoyed the whole getting-stuck-in-the-house-under-a-foot-of-snow-with-six-foot-drifts-out-the-back-door-history-in-the-making because I am lucky enough to have a warm safe place to lay my head and I was confident that all my loved ones were safe as well.

Josh went and rescued bestie and her two rugrats ~~before~~ during the blizzard because we were all in agreement she should not be home by herself (her hubs works for the state therefore he was busy plowing snow during snowpacalypse) should the power go out or whatever else that could possibly happen during a blizzard. You know, like, poppin' bottles in the ice. That was stupid. Sorry.

Anyicicle.

Oh, and apparently there was a 'big game' that was played on Sunday?

All I know is I was told to come to a friend's house for pizza, appetizers, and a football game. Done and done.

We showed up, the kids all vomited toys everywhere played nicely and the grown-ups got in a little game watching and adult time. Heaven.

Alexa was rewarded for her good behavior with a trip to ~~germ city~~ McDonalds playplace.

She was given a pep talk before we walked in.

When Mommy says it's time to leave you need to listen and not throw a huge fit.

Avery did not get that memo.

Alexa had to drag her through a couple tubes and a helicopter to get her down.

Seriously, I was thisclose to having to climb up there and get her while the other mom's pointed and laughed and judged the 'bad mom' that can't control her toddler (who was only wearing one sock and the Playplace rules clearly state socks must be worn at all times. Also, the sub-zero temperature rules clearly state socks must be worn at all times. Mother of the Year - vote for me!)

So, the universe has been smiling down on me and things have been running fairly smoothly, i.e., not blogworthy.

Also, the skinnies have made a reappearance and I feel good.

That trumps everything.

Germy hugs and kisses,
Teisha

The Longest Weekend Of Doing Nothing In The History Of Ever

2011-01-31T19:29:00.000-06:00

It's Monday night.

I sit here in my jammies from prolly Friday night, I don't even know anymore, Avery is spitting venom at my chair and Alexa is prancing around in her Tinkerbell costume talking to dust particles.

I've died and gone to crazy town.

Josh is on his way home from the airport and I have never been so excited to see him.

Here's my weekend in pictures because my eyes and brain and soul have glazed over and are picketing out front.

Alright, who shit in the brownies? Not cool.

Finished product. 150 calories per mini piece and worth. every. calorie.

Picasso painting the medallion to cover the giant hole in our ceiling.

Shithead painting the bathroom with a whole roll of toilet watered toilet paper

Cheese

The diva insisted on an umbrella

Queens of the snow city

Gently helping Avery down

Avery had her own idea though

Snow angel without snow pants - she soon was complaining of a cold rear

Finished off the weekend with Avery barfing up her fruit snacks and (red) juice and suffering through the night

Josh is home.

Excuse me while I go rock back and forth in the corner.

The text is centered and there's a bunch of empty space you say?

Holy crap my brain just exploded.

Vegas, Baby

2011-01-28T10:41:00.001-06:00

This weekend you will find me in my sweatpants on the couch eating popcorn with the girls watching ~~HGTV~~ Princess movies.

This blissful synopsis thesaurus hard at work is brought to you by this little fact:

My hubs and several other hooligans are going to Vegas this weekend for a bachelor party.

There are several s-s-s-scenarios that could potentially go awry, the least of which would be waking up to a stolen tiger in the shitter.

I do feel bad for the employees at the Hard Rock Hotel who will have to enter that suite and clean it after they leave. I would suggest wearing an oxygen mask because the ass gas in that room will be at nuclear bomb level.

I actually have family that lives in Vegas and Josh wanted my aunt's phone number in case of emergency. Read: needing info. on bailing the groom-to-be out of jail.

Oh, and to all the ladies in Vegas: there is a no return policy on Josh.

And, to all the creepers who are now considering kidnapping me and the girls just know this; I have a three legged half blind dog that will bark her brains off at you. And then lie down and beg for a belly scratch.

THIS JUST IN

2011-01-25T13:39:00.000-06:00

Avery said her first sentence:

Nono mama.

Really? You say, like, five words out of the English language but you've already moved on to putting those five words together in sentence form and *that* is the best you could come up with?

How about -

Nono puppy.

OR

Hi! mama!

OR

Nono dada.

OR

uh-huh mama.

OR

ow mama.

Le sigh.

Seriously, You Guys, The Crafts Are Out Of Control Over Here

2011-01-24T15:08:00.000-06:00

So, apparently a crafty little leprechaun has taken over my four year old.

Nick Jr. no longer has its original allure that used to captivate her for ~~hours~~ minutes on end.

She wants to make things.

Like, crafty things.

I sizuck at crafty things.

BUT, for my child I will do *almost* anything.

So when she woke up the other morning and wanted to make 'valentimes' day stuff I ~~groggily~~ happily obliged, but only because I had seen a Valentine idea here (check this chick out - you will not be sorry)....otherwise I am not ashamed to admit I would not have been able to come up with this uber simplistic idea myself.

Hearts on a hanger:

Easy peasy.

What I didn't show you was the meltdown that was had by all when Avery channeled her inner ninja and proceeded to snatch and run off with one of Alexa's strings of hearts. Well, meltdown by Alexa, evil laughter from Avery.

Oh, and the fact that she was enthralled with this project for about 2.64 minutes. After that it was up to me to finish while she hurriedly cut up a bunch of paper before I relinquished her scissor using privileges again.

For obvious reasons.

Like, you know the fact that they are dangerous.

And, the fact that she created a funky origami looking dealy out of her pajama pants one day.

Anyways.

It was lovely to have something to do since Mother Nature obviously needs to get laid or something because cold, gray, windy, and snowy best describes what has been going on for the past, like, 3 months or so.

So, it's either crafts, binge eating and drinking, or going completely stir crazy staring at each other.

Or this:

And this:

Avery doing her best Lindsay Lohan impression

Using our children for entertainment purposes never gets old.

Isn't that why they were put into our lives in the first place?

Brrrrrrrrrrr

2011-01-21T09:54:00.000-06:00

The thermometer and I had an argument this morning, it went a little something like this:

The temperature is -17 degrees outside.

Fuck you.

Hey, don't shoot the messenger lady.

I hate this weather and I'll cry about it if I want to.

Well, that's what you get for living in Iowa surrounded by corn and cow poo.

Shut it thermometer or I'll throw you outside to die a slow freezing death.

Ha - you can't kill me! I'm god in the eyes of farmer's! Why, without me, what would they talk about?

*punches the thermometer in the face*

I need a vacation.

Puppy!

2011-01-19T08:52:00.000-06:00

Me: How was your day today Avery?

Avery: Puppy!

---------------------------

Avery: *frantically pointing at her plate* Puppy! PUPPY! PUPPY!

Me: Would you like more Ranch?

Avery: *nods head* uh-huh

---------------------------

Avery: *throws sippy on the floor* Puppy. Mama, puppy! MAMA! PUPPY!

Me: Say please and I'll get you more juice.

Avery: *does the sign for please*

---------------------------

Avery: *walks out of her room holding her toy puppy* Mama! Woof woof! Puppy!

Avery: *walks out of Sis' room holding a Barbie* Mama! Puppy!

---------------------------

Avery: *pointing to the snack basket on top of the fridge* PUPPY! PUPPY!

Me: No snacks before supper.

Avery: *throws herself on the floor or stomps her feet or does a combination of both while crying and yelling PUPPY!*

--------------------------

Get it?

If Avery wants/gets excited about/is happy/is sad/is confused/needs help/and on and on her go to word is puppy.

Life is much happier once I realized this.

Before -

Avery: Mama! Puppy! PUPPY!

Me: Yeh, where is your puppy? Go get him and we'll play.

Avery: PUPPY! PUPPYPUPPYPUPPY! MAMAPUPPY!

Me: Avery, stop yelling.

Avery: *throwing a dramatic fit and crying*

Me: What is wrong Avery? You are cray cray!

Avery: *in complete agony just moaning puuuuupppppyyy over and over*

Me: You know your sister never used to act like this.

So, yeh, Avery's much more cheerful now that I know how to translate her language.

She doesn't talk much, unlike Alexa at this age (19.5 months). She understands everything you say to her though so I'm not worried. She's just taking her sweet ass time because she can.

She says 'ow' a lot. If she almost runs into something she'll walk over, lift her foot, and moan owwww.

Other than the regular mama, dada, sissy she doesn't have a whole lot to say. I'm sure someday soon, though, she won't shut up.

Another Weekend Of Frozen Boogers And Nervous Toddlers

2011-01-17T20:34:00.000-06:00

This past weekend we went up to Min-uh-sohta for my newest nephew's baptism.

Six hours in the car is waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too long for a certain little one and half year old. She ~~quietly~~ ear piercingly make your toes curl kind of way told us her thoughts about the whole ordeal the entire way there. Pausing ten minutes for a cat nap. Ten minutes, people!

This short of a nap does strange things to a toddler that we got to experience later on in the night.

After safely arriving to the hotel Alexa soon decided she wanted to swim. Avery decided she just wanted to run a marathon around the pool and give her mom eleventy billion mini heart attacks.

Alexa found a little friend so she was perfectly content. I'm quite certain she even forgot we were there.

Finally the new baby arrives and Avery proceeds to poke him in the eye and lovingly punch him in the face.

Then we decided on supper at the hotel restaurant where I considered asking the waiter if he knew of any local exorcists.

I was hoping and praying for a cocktail of Xanax and vodka but I had to settle for a good old fashioned Coca Cola. You see, Josh's family doesn't drink and I'm pretty sure if I would have ordered an alcoholic drink his grandma would have gotten up and walked away while praying for my soul. She's awesome. If awesome means she's an asshole.

After supper we got to do a little baby bonding.

Mini me who loves her some baby

Last time we came to Minnesota I learned that Avery's nerves switch to full speed when she's in a strange place, i.e., hotel room. This little fact still holds true. She would rather wander the halls and several times threw herself on the floor in a defiant gesture when she thought I was going to pick her up and bring her in the room.

She also loves the elevator. Loves. it. The devil took over her body when I made her get out after the 98th time of going up and down. Also, the elevator buttons need to be a little higher please and thank you.

Finally bedtime, where we got to sleep about 94.27 minutes.

Sweet.

So, baptism day. 8:30 lobby call to head out for breakfast. By some sort of miracle (Grandma and Grandpa helping with Avery) we made it down on time.

Breakfast. Fairly uneventful thank you Jesus.

Baptism. Avery had to be escorted from the premises.

Luncheon. Delicious. People kept commenting on how tired Avery looked. Poor kid was struggling with some hefty demons. Her nerves were shot and she was going on little sleep. Alexa hooked up with another little girl and was in heaven.

Drive home. Repeat experience of drive there, except she graced us with an hour long nap.

I managed to misplace her little bowl so she went on full feed

I'm so glad the weather cooperated and we were able to go meet the new little man and see the baptism.

I'm also glad the weekend is over.

Princess Ballerinas

2011-01-13T05:00:00.001-06:00

See the ballerina making out with the mirror and not paying attention to the teacher?
Yes, that's Alexa.
Yes, she is her mother's daughter.

Death By Crocodile Or Witch Or An Eye Falling Out

2011-01-12T10:31:00.001-06:00

Ever since we went to a visitation a couple months ago Alexa has been trying to figure out the concept of death.

I don't even understand the concept of death and now I have to try and explain it to an innocent little child without totally freaking her out?

Again, whoever thought I could be in charge of raising another human being should be fired.

Anygrimreaper, here is an excerpt from one of our conversations regarding death and dying.

Just read it, it's funny not all debbie downerish.

Hey mom?
I don't want my eye to fall out.
Would I die?

No.

.....

Mom, if somebody cut my head off would I die?

Um, yes, but nobody would ever cut your head off.

You would never cut my head off?

No. Never.

Yeh, cause that is supah supah naughty.

Yeh.

I would just run away.

That's a good idea, just run away. And besides, I would save you if anyone was trying to hurt you and remember nobody is ever going to cut your head off.

Yeh, cause that's supah naughty.

.....

Well, witches are mean so they might, but you're a big kid so you'd save me.
OR I could save you Mom.
With a knife.
In my pocket.

Well, we shouldn't have knives in our pockets, that sounds dangerous.

Yeh, it might poke me.
I'll just leave it at home.
Do we have knives at home?

Yes, but we only use knives to cut our food.

*ponders* We don't eat people do we?

No.

Well, crocodiles eat people. Do crocodiles eat people?

Ummm, hey Alexa look at the cool clouds in the sky!

End scene, thank God.

I also assured her that people usually don't die until they are very old.

She's all, yeh like when their face hangs down?

Ahhh, the honesty of children is a beautiful thing.

My New Year's Resolution

2011-01-11T11:25:00.000-06:00

...was to be nicer to Josh.

I have failed miserably, so let's just pretend my New Year's Resolution was to have better posture while sitting at my desk at work. K?

It's our little secret.

Another NYR is to eat more chocolate and read more books.

Those are both attainable. Baby steps.

Side note: Josh deserves my wrath. Ya get what you give. So don't yell at me about it, mkay?

The Creativity Is Oozing Out Of Our Pores UPDATED

2011-01-05T15:22:00.001-06:00

Smell that?

That's the smell of euphoria mixed with vodka and shaken with fairy dust.

Alexa and I have been busy making things beautiful around here today and the feeling that comes from giving the dining room a quick face lift is better than the feeling that Xanax gives you.

Just kidding, send Xanax please.

Anyways, Alexa never ceases to amaze me with her creativity skills because let's just say I'm a little lacking in the creativity department. Crafts and all that make me itchy and moody because I zero patience.

So, Alexa walks up to me and says 'look what I made Mom!'

After I tear my eyes away from an incredibly inspirational interior design book I am in shock at what my four year old has created.

Yes, they are tracings but still. I birthed the next Picasso.

So after being so inspired by Picasso and the awesome interior design book I decided to give the dining room a much needed facelift.

I have no before pictures because, well, I'm an idiot and when I put my mind to something I tend to dive right in and create a vaccuumed black hole in my brain thinking about nothing but the task at hand, hence no before pictures. Deal.

New rug to hide the burn your retinas it's so ugly kitchen carpet underneath
The vase was stashed in the hall closet just waiting to be plucked from it's hell

Built-in corner cabinet numero uno

Built in corner cabinet numero dos

Hutch and junk

Now, here's where you come in.

See those screen lookin' things behind the two chairs? They are the doors I removed from the corner cabinets. They kind of accidentally ended up there but I sort of like them. They add another element and layer to the either side of the hutch.

What's your opinion? Love them? Hate them? Don't really give a shit?

If you don't like them what do you suggest putting beside the hutch? It's been a thorn in my side and something needs to be in that space I just don't know what.

So, there you have it.

My half ass wannabe interior decorating creativity and Alexa's ingenious work of art plus a crappy camera equals fairy dust vodka euphoria.

Tell me what you think! My black hole of a brain wants to know!

*Update*

Better?

Warning, This Is A Rant With Lots Of Cusswords

2011-01-04T12:11:00.000-06:00

So, I was going to write a super duper funny New Years Reservation post but my ingenieassly witty humor will have to wait because my happy go lucky fart day was thrown on the ground and stomped on by some douchebag bar owner who just proceded to hang up on me while I was trying to help his sorry ass get his sorry ass beer order.

HUNG UP ON ME

Excuse me? Oh no you di'int.

So logically, I run to the blog where I can rant and rant and fart and this douchebag will never know how pissed I am but I don't care for two reasons:
1)I'm scared of confrontation
That's about it.

Guess what Mr. Barowner?

You suck at life.

You've written so many bad checks to us that we had to put you on cash only.

You weren't at the bar when you said you would be therefore you didn't get your beer.

Your problem, not mine.

BUT since I'm so nice I'm not really I super suck at customer service bullshit I was line hopping between you and your driver trying to figure out a way to get you your beer when, in your frustration, you yelled at me, said 'whatever' and hung up.

Here is where I politely ask you to find the nearest bridge overlooking the mighty Mississippi and jump motherfucker.

What's that you say? I'm overreacting?

Well you fucked my sparkle hearts mood up and I was only trying to help your deadbeat ass get your order.

Now I'm all sweaty and shaky and pissy and want to go raid the cooler.

Deadbeat bar owners like you can kiss my ass.

Sparkle beer shits,
Teisha

Happy New Year

2010-12-31T11:44:00.001-06:00

2010 was a good year.

I. am. blessed.

Everyday I look around at what I have and think it can't possibly get any better than this but at that moment one of the girls will walk up and give me an unprompted kiss on the cheek and not to be outdone by her sister the other one will do the same and then it's a fight for kisses. Man I love that.

Or I will be reminded of what's important in life when I'm running ragged at the end of the day trying to get the pile of laundry down to manageable size while making dinner and doing dishes all at the same time and I'll look over and see the girls snuggling on the couch, Alexa reading a book to Avery and Avery occasionally glancing at her sister with wonder and awe and love in her eyes.

That's what matters.

Messy rooms and unswept floors mean nothing.

Josh walking in and both girls yelling 'Dad!' 'Daddy!' and padding their little feet to greet him and fighting for the first hug makes him beam from ear to ear. Even when Alexa says 'Pew, you smell like cow poop' she won't let go.

Alexa has told me many times 'you're the best mommy evuh!' and I see the love in her eyes for me and it makes my heart leap out of my chest and do a happy dance. I try baby, I try.

Avery looks at me with those striking blue eyes and the world stops turning.

How could I have gotten so lucky to have them put into my life?

2010 was a good year.

Bring on 2011.

Christmas Summed Up Into One Post Because I Want To Get On With It

2010-12-29T11:20:00.000-06:00

Christmas is over.

Kind of a bittersweet moment here at casa de fabulous.

Bitter because the presents and cookies have stopped flowing freely. The out of towners have headed home (sad face) and we're all suffering from post Christmas blues.

Also, I gained three pounds this weekend, in my thighs. Apparently trying one of everything on the dessert tray was a bad idea. No it wasn't.

Sweet because hauling the kids here and there and everywhere is exhausting times infinity and thank you Jesus that's over.

Let's start with Thursday. I conned my MIL into bringing the kids and meeting me at the dreaded mall Santa because my inner dialogue was being a real pain in the ass and telling me the kids were going to need therapy if they didn't make it to see the fat man. Inner dialogue FAIL. Not to mention Alexa had been suffering from a heavy duty fever the past couple of days.

Would somebody please call my hair did gal and tell her I'm an asshole

Avery was indifferent. She was all NBD I'll sit on creepy Santa's lap but HAND CHECK MR. CLAUS. They also wanted to charge me a minimum of $16.99 to take my own damn pictures. No, I did not pay that and yes I took my own pictures and yes Santa's fat ugly elf with a thousand times worse hair than mine gave me the side eye as I walked away.

Friday - Christmas Eve.

There were plenty of giddy smiles and anxious excitement in anticipation for Santa to make his big appearance that night. It was a glorious day.

Our first Christmas celebration of the weekend was that night along with 8:00 church. I'm going on strike next year because 8:00 church + a long-winded preacher = disaster times a million. By the time we got home the kids weren't filled with Christmas spirit. Alexa had a meltdown because she realized she didn't get to tell Santa what she wanted. So:

Dear Santa,
Tinkerbell dress
Wand
Wings

I love you Santa,

Alexa

See that face? Santa didn't bring her a wand. He's such a douche.

Puppy! Puppy! Mama! Puppy!

Then I forced Alexa into opening her presents from us because she was too preoccupied with her new Leapster that Santa also brought her. Avery was LOVING the whole ripping presents open idea.

Then off to my parents house for brunch and more presents. It was awesome. Totally full of the awesome.

So what? Imma make princess pj's over clothes the new spring trend.

Here Jess, let me help you. Please? Pretty please? I hope there's a puppy in there!

After presents and unbuttoning of pants to fit more cookies into my inner thighs my sister's and I settled in for a stimulating puzzle while the kids napped. We are hardcore. Actually we are because there was a semi fist fight over a Santa piece. You know how puzzles can get a trite I have absolutely no idea if that word makes sense here competitive.

Then off to Josh's mom's side where they always attempt to cram 75 people into a house not meant to hold that many people. *insert Xanax plea here*

On to Sunday, right? Yeh Sunday.

A little relaxation before we head to my dad's side of the family where there's usually beer and poker along with presents. Wonderful. The kids were running around similar to what I'd imagine a methed out ballerina with a firecracker up her ass would look like. But we managed to get a picture of all of them sitting.

My thoughts exactly

Monday.

Christmas decorations came down. Hallelujah!

The kids ~~fought over~~ played with their new toys.

2.8 seconds after this picture Avery attempted to grab the Leapster which led to screams and tears. The girls were upset too.

Alexa must have been a teensy run down still or she's a 16 year old trapped in a four year old body because that night, in dramatic fashion, she informed me I was wuhning her life.

Sigh.

Thankfully Christmas is over until next year.

Happy Birthday Jesus

2010-12-25T05:00:00.001-06:00

I hope the sexy big man in the red suit got you lots of goodies! If not, I hope whatever you did to get yourself on the naughty list was worth it!

Panic At The Disco

2010-12-23T09:37:00.000-06:00

By now you all know that I have a slightly unhealthy obsession with my DVR. Without it, I wouldn't be able to watch the hilarity that is Real Housewives or manage to swallow everything Michael Scott produces on The Office. That's what she said.

Remember when I emailed DirecTV because the DVR was PMSing and demanding ice cream and footrubs all the time?

Apparently the cable I thought didn't need to be connected, did. Problem solved.

BUT about a week ago the DVR lost all will to live.

It perished while Alexa was watching TV which prompted a meltdown from her and a 'what in the H did you do to it?' from me.

After we kissed and made up (Alexa and I, not the DVR and I - I know how things can get confusing around here) I set forth with the task of fixing the broken DVR.

Push power
Push power
Push power
Swear at it
Push the sacred red reset button
...
Push the GD red reset button
...
Try to contain my frustration and forcefully yet gently push the everspiteful red reset button
...
Channel my inner Homer and strangle the DVR while saying 'WHY YOU LITTLE'
Unplug and replug everything in
Take out the little card dealy
Blow in it
Reinsert card and push reset
MOTHERFUCKER(*&q@#*Z.,M)(80935lmgoieurt0

Last night I finally got around to calling them. I know.

I finally got tired of listening to Josh whine about not being able to watch Miss Kitty in the other room while we watched Blue's Clues. Father of the year.

I dreaded this call because I HATE talking to machines. Josh was furrowing his brow and giving me the side-eye while I was yelling operator! operator! and pushing 0 over and over again. It worked.

I was connected with a real live breathing person named John who made me redo everything I had already done and just couldn't believe the lights weren't turning on, no John still no lights and sure I'll hold while you try to find me the best deal on a new receiver.

Sooooo. I've been having mini heart attacks and getting poop cramps for the past weekish because I'VE LOST ALL MY RECORDED SHOWS! SOB!

Can't you see I'm in mourning over here people?

I bet a new camera and wood floors for my kitchen would make me feel better. Just sayin'.

Minnesota: The Coldest Place On Earth With The Worst Drivers

2010-12-21T05:00:00.001-06:00

I tried to think of one word to sum up our weekend but the only thing I could come up with was buttasscold and that does it no justice.

As much as I whined about it the trip was ni. ce. ish.

Ride up went as well as expected, besides the batshit crazy drivers up there. Seriously, law of physics states that just staying in your own damn lane versus frogger-ing it makes the flow of traffic smoother. It does, look it up.

Bestie BBM'ed me once asking if everyone was still alive.

My response: wellll I may or may not have just threatened to cancel Christmas ... time for a drink.

It really wasn't *that* bad though. Avery hates riding in the car for more than 47 seconds so I anticipated her yelling at me most of the way and Alexa watched around 32 movies, quietly.

We didn't get there until like 11:00ish and after unloading everything it was waytoolate and the girls were wide awake and wanted to play. Hooray! Avery was fuhreaked out by the whole hotel room biz - she kept giving me the stink eye while trying to escape to the hallway to find her bedroom. Double hooray! for nervous toddlers who don't want to sleep in the hotel room.

Next day was eventful, here are the pictures to tell the story because I'm laaazzzzzy.

Yes I know this picture is, like, taking over and it's making me mental

Trip to Target because we managed to lose *one* of Alexa's boots. ONE.

Then a little relaxin'. And naps.

Then supper and presents. The girls were exhausted. With a capital cranky. ~~They~~ we soldiered through, though.

Drive home. Try to avoid the roadragers. We left Alexa with the grandparents to attend church and left early so Josh could "do chores." I'm thankful we did cause unpacking after a day and a half long trip took equally as long.

One Christmas down. Four to go.

Sugarplum dreams,
Teisha

Psssst

2010-12-20T22:40:00.000-06:00

As you can plainly see I finally came up with a new title and designed a new header.

*Pats own back*

Also, I created a little poll dingy on my sidebar regarding the new digs.

Go vote and tell me what you think here.

Kthxbye

Fabulous Chased With Crazy

A Little Hair Experiment

Is There Such Thing As A Good Hair Day?

That's All She Wrote

That One Time I Boarded A Plane With One Tiny Terrorist One Angel And One Giant Baby

Apparently This Is How I'm Gonna Make A Blog Comeback

Shit I've Been Doing Besides Blogging

Funk

Apple Trees Are No Joke

In Yer Fat Face

Yes, This Day Of Diet Really Happened

Diet Schmiet Fork In My Piehole

A Birthday Party Fit For A Dramatic Five Year Old

I Told You It Was A Wig!

Meadow

Thoughts Vs. Words

Haiku You

Bubble Guppies Makes Me Stabby

True Life: I'm A Half Ass Mommy Blogger

Mother Of The Year

Inside My Head

No, Tyra, I'm Not Plus Size Just Curvalicious

He Just Doesn't Understand My Sarcasm

Six Movies And A Nap

BOO!

Donuts And Anniversaries Go Together Like Ramalamadingdong Shadoobie Dowap Shibop

Somebody Had A Birthday

Be Our Guest

Everybody Said I Should Paint Them Black

Nothing Like The Black Swan, That Movie Was Effed Up

Cows And Unicorns, One In The Same

Something To Occupy Your Time While I Pretend To Write A Blog Post

My Homemade Window Seat In Action

I'm Alive And I Drew You A Picture

Dear Avery:

Somebody Else Title This Please

Monday Minute

Monday Minute

I've Got Crabs, More Specifically, I've Got One Crab

My New Purchase That I Almost Died, Um, Purchasing

Monday Minute

Easter On The Farm

A Little Heartfelt Thank You Mixed With Drew Carey

Betty White: Old Person Extraordinaire

Painting Easter Eggs: My Bout With Temporary Insanity

A Couple Updates You Could Care Less About

Favorite Things: Part Dos

Favorite Things: Part One

MS Paint = Happiness. Also: The Day I Got Twat Hacked Which Is Oddly Not Nearly As Bad As It Sounds.

That One Time I Played Chicken With A Cow

It's Friday, Bitches!

Chicago By Numbers

Mommy Rant

Mom, I Have To Tell You The Truth...

I Am Having A Hard Time Coming Up With A Title Other Than An Interior Designer Wannabe Shaken With Some Yin And Yang. Just Roll With It.

Caption This

Princesses, Poo, Life Lessons & Kissing. Yes, They Are All Related Somehow.

Alexa's Minute

It *Was* A Hoof, JOSH

Have You Seen This?

Shopping, Farts, And Justin Bieber.

Sort Of 25 Things About Me

Wanna Know What I Think? Don't Answer That.

How This Weeks Conversation With My Hypothetical Therapist Would Go

Caption This

Nothing To See Here, Keep Moving

The Longest Weekend Of Doing Nothing In The History Of Ever

Vegas, Baby

THIS JUST IN

Seriously, You Guys, The Crafts Are Out Of Control Over Here

Brrrrrrrrrrr

Puppy!

Another Weekend Of Frozen Boogers And Nervous Toddlers

Princess Ballerinas

Death By Crocodile Or Witch Or An Eye Falling Out

My New Year's Resolution

The Creativity Is Oozing Out Of Our Pores *UPDATED*

Warning, This Is A Rant With Lots Of Cusswords

Happy New Year

Christmas Summed Up Into One Post Because I Want To Get On With It

It Was A Hoof, JOSH

The Creativity Is Oozing Out Of Our Pores UPDATED