Kids Will Be Kids, Or Why It’s Not A Good Idea To Let My Husband Go To The Park By Himself Ever Again…

Now, to be fair, I feel the need to explain that my husband has not been allowed to go to the park with just him and the children for several years now. Ever since the Duck Incident of 2005. My husband is an animal lover. He is a rather large man, but so very gentle. He doesn’t take kindly to seeing anyone or anything mistreated. Especially a small, defenseless duck. He became quite angry while at the park one afternoon with the boys because a little boy was throwing rocks at the ducks. Not pebbles. Rocks. While his Mama did nothing. My husband told the little boy he ought not to throw rocks at animals and the little boy’s Mama proceeded to start yelling at my husband instead of her mean little kid. Can you believe it? He packed up the boys and brought them home. He informed me that he would not be going to the park without me . Ever again.

And in almost four years, he hasn’t. We take the boys to the park almost every weekend. We have a great one close by. The play area is rockin’. Truly. There are nature trails, biking trails, a lake, open areas, and even a historic site. We love to go there and always have a lot of fun. Except last weekend. Let’s just say that last weekend someone should be lucky I didn’t beat her snooty ass into the ground. Oh, I’m sorry. Did I say that out loud? Well. She should be…

The park was a little more crowded than usual. We didn’t think anything about it. The weather was absolutely gorgeous. You know, one of those perfect days right before Fall? Not too hot, not too cool, with just enough of a breeze. The boys went out to play on the playground and we settled in to watch. It wasn’t long before we noticed this kid being really nasty to Nub. He kept telling him to get off his playground. He then had two of the kids he was playing with stand guard to make sure neither of my children could play on the playground. The boys were visibly confused. No one has ever treated them like that. One of the children said that Nub was weird and he didn’t want to play with him. I was shocked. I know kids will be cruel. I understand that. I just never imagined that they could be such little shits either. The same little boy actually pushed Nub. He came over and told us that he wasn’t allowed to play there anymore. His father and I told him he most certainly was and to get right back up there. He marched back up there and told those mean little kids that they shouldn’t talk to people like that. That they should take turns and not talk ugly to people. Dub right by his side. The kid told him again to leave and gave him another shove. The boys parents were right there the whole time. And never said a word. My husband calmly got up and walked over to them and told the little boy that it was NOT his playground and that all the children could play there. At that point in time the mother of the child took him and the little brother off to another area of the playground. Lucky for her. We went to school together. I would have enjoyed pounding her to bits. Not that I would have. There were children present. I would have never gotten into an altercation with another parent in front of our children. But Jesus, was I ever pissed. Still kind of am.

What kind of parent lets their child act like that? AND DOES NOTHING? I would be MORTIFIED if either one of my children ever behaved like that. And then after the embarrassment wore off I would totally kill them. But that is beside the point. I just don’t understand parents who don’t seem to care how their children behave or treat other children.

I do have to say that we have NEVER been more proud of Nub and Dub than we were last weekend. They never yelled at the children nor did they push them back or touch them in any way. They stood up for each other. And when that was done, they went off to play in the sandbox. Together. Don’t get me wrong, they will pound on each other with no compunction. But you better by God not mess with either one of them while the other is right there. Then they are thick as thieves. Nub and Dub. Just wait until they are in the same school.

Look out world, The H%^&*$ Boys are not to be trifled with…


Updates! Get Your Hot, Juicy Updates!

Well. There may not be any juicy  updates, but there will be updates. Gimme a break. I was going with what I had. I’m sick. Have a little pity.


* Nub will be having his stitches removed on Tuesday. What’s that? Oh, didn’t I mention he had to have stitches last Sunday? Yeah… He was playing with an old helium balloon leftover from his Bubba’s birthday. It had one of those weights tied to the bottom. You know, the ones to keep them from popping on your ceiling? Only this one is hard rubber with a magnet attached. So you can put it on your fridge when you are done. Sort of a two-fer, I suppose. Right about the time the words ” don’t do that or you will poke your eye out” leave my mouth his brother lets go and it comes flying back and hits him right in the head. He immediately starts bawling. Good mother that I am I tell him that I don’t want to hear it because I told him to quit before he hurt himself. I send him down the hall to Grammy. Where I hear her scream ” OMG, HE’S BLEEDING, GET ME A TOWEL, SOMETHING, ANYTHING, QUICK”. I come running down the hallway and see him bleeding like a stuck hog. I grab a towel and we take him to the ER. Where he gets THREE stitches. THREE. MY BABY. He handles it like a champ. A champ, I tell you. He doesn’t cry the whole time.  He watches the doctor stitch him up. Then, he thanks him. Manners, even in the face of adversity. The boy kills me. He really does. Looks like I will definitely NOT be in the running for Mother of the Year this year. S’okay. There’s always next year.

* We got the house. We move out the first weekend in October. I am beyond thankful. Truly. The house is sooo much nicer than our old one. I can hardly wait. I can cook again. Oh happy day!There will be the watching of our own shows! There will be nakedness! Oh, sorry. It sort of slipped out. Let’s just say that the entire household will be in a State of Joy.

* I have come up with TWO new ways of making some extra cash for the holidays. One is starting my own Bartending business. We can work private parties, weddings, or whatever social occasion would require a bartender. I even have business cards! Pretty fancy, eh? The second idea, which would allow me to stay home with Dub, is to watch some of my friends children during the day. I would only have 2-3 children, and only until 5:30, Monday thru Friday. That way I could still work at my job now to keep my employee discount. I’ve been sort of spoiled by that. I would also be helping them out because I would charge less than their daycare. I would provide their meals and basically do what I do with my own children during the day. But get paid for it. Genius, right?

* I have actually made some grown-up, big girl plans with my very best BFF. I know. I am practically beside myself with excitement. We are doing something next Tuesday. I believe it will be involving wine. Let’s hope my head cold is gone by then. It better be. I haven’t been out in a trillion years. At least. And I don’t care if I am in traction, I am going.

And I think that is the end of my updates. Oh, wait. I forgot about one.

* My beloved USC Trojans kicked a little Buckeye ass last weekend. Yeah, Baby! Someone said they thought this was the best team Pete had had yet. If that’s the case, y’all better look out. Either way, it ought to be one helluva season. Which is fine by me.

Operation Knocked-Up…



Not only NO, but the germy beasts I do have, have infected me yet again.



edited to add: I am not pregnant. I am, however, currently experiencing The Mutha Of All Head Colds. Courtesy of my beloved eldest child and the germiest place in the whole wide world. You may know it as pre-K. Your sympathies are greatly appreciated. Now, if y’all will excuse me I am going to go drink a gallon of Nyquil.

Celtophobic Anyone?

After much hard work on my part, endless hours spent waiting on the mail to arrive in Colorado and then having to wait for my Bubba to get home from work, and here is the end result.

At last. I am feeling quite triumphant. And maybe just a little smug. Tell me that is not a cool shirt. Go ahead. That is funny stuff right there.

Another Year Older…

Dear Dub,

Happy Birthday, my beautiful, sweet boy. Today you are three. And so very grown up it makes me want to cry. Where did the time go? It seems like only yesterday that I was still pregnant with you. I know it’s cliche, but it is so true.You had to be induced because you were in no big hurry to come out. Honestly, I think if it were up to you you’d STILL be in there! You did NOT want to leave mah belly. But I was more than ready for you to be out. I hadn’t slept in weeks!

You are so big now. You do NOT like to be called “baby” for any reason. You are becoming funnier with each passing year. You still make your Devil Face upon request. And you are still my very best Snuggle Bunny. You want to do everything your big Bubba does. You were pretty upset when he started pre-K. I think you like it now though. You’re the only game in town!

We had your party on Sunday at Clinton Nature Preserve. You had to have Star Wars as your theme. You L-O-V-E Star Wars. Me, Daddy, Bubba, Grammy, Grampy, Momo, Paw-Paw, Gigi, Monica, Dan, Hanah, Ariauna,Aunt Rhonda, Rhett,Kathy,Daniel,and Sarah were all there. Grammy made you a Chewbacca cake. You had so much fun. The weather was absolutely perfect.And you looked so cute in your shirt that I made for you(I have a picture that I will put up in a later post, or add to this one!). You got to play with all of your friends and see all your grandparents at the same time. You were in heaven!

You are such a smart boy.You know your ABC’S,most of your colors(although you can name them in Spanish!),you can count to almost twenty, and you can get dressed all by yourself. You even look like a little boy. Your fat little pink belly is almost completely gone. You talk all the time, even sometimes in your sleep! You just want to GO!GO!GO! You are very grown up. I am so proud of you. Even though I sometimes miss my baby.

I look forward to watching you grow up. To seeing the man you will become. I don’t know what I ever did that was so right to deserve you(or your Bubba), but I will be forever grateful. And humbled by the gift of you.

I love you. My Sweet Boy. I always will.


Wal*Greens, You Are Dead To Me…

Dear Wal*Greens,

Over the past few years I have given you many chances to reclaim my love. Which is something I almost never do. I gave you another try even after you lost my wedding pictures. That’s right, my wedding pictures. The sad thing is that you didn’t even seem all that sorry at the time.

During this, apparently, one-sided relationship I have overlooked rude employees, snotty managers, and a basic lack of any of your sale items. I have endured jacked-up prices and long waits at your pharmacy. All of this while attempting to keep some teeny,tiny shred of the love we once shared.

That ends today. Or rather, yesterday. I needed cough medicine for Nub. Against my better judgement I decided to stop by Wal*Greens because it is across the street from where I work. And I was running a little late. Naturally, the store was in the middle of some type of inventory. In the, you guessed it, Cold & Flu aisle. After finally locating the appropriate cough medicine I headed to the cashier. While in line I noticed it doesn’t give the dose for 4 year olds. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. I figured I would just run on back to the Pharmacy and ask the Pharmacist for the correct dosage. I thought I knew what it was, but I don’t like to assume anything where medicine is concerned. I pay for my item and wander back to the Pharmacy. I stand at Patient Consultation and wait for the Pharmacist to acknowledge me. Which she does not. She looks right at me and does or says nothing. Not, ” Hey, be right with ya”, or even ” Bitch, please”. Nothing . I wait a minute more and then I say ” Hey, I just have a quick question for you”. She informs me she will be right with me. I say no problem. She finishes the prescription she is working on and calls the person to the back. This would be the part where I got pissed. She then starts filling another prescription. Without answering my question. Which would have taken all of about, oh I don’t know, FIVE SECONDS. I am pretty mad by this point. I pick up my bottle of cough medicine and walk out the door.

And out of your life, Wal*Greens. Forever. You are dead to me.


                                                            No Longer Your Lovah