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Saturday, 28 April 2012

Which of my kids did this.......

Let's play a guessing game!  I'll give you three guesses....okay, which of my three darling brats children got suspended from school for 1 day and their bus for 3 days?  I know it's early, I'll help you out a bit.....I only have two kids who ride the bus.  Also, now I realize I gave you three guesses, so unless you're high on computer duster, you should be able to get this one.  What?  Oh, I think I just heard a collective yell echoing off the mountains.......THE RED HEAD???  Yes.  If you were a part of the group of people who screamed at their computer screen that it was Kohen, you have been paying attention.  Congrats, send me your address and I'll bake you some cookies.  And for those who just yelled "the red head" because obviously red heads are soulless devil children, yeah, you win too.  And for everyone else who guessed Gavin, please take yourselves to the nearest other person in the room and instruct them to punch you in the face because you sir, are an idiot.

So my lovely middle child.....sigh......yup.  It's Wednesday and I'm at work.  Me and Carmen are blowing each other out......wait wait wait's early, let me reword that. and Carmen were tag team blowing each other no no....honest, it's not like that.  I should probably explain before I sign myself up for a 1-900 number here.....okay so there's this HAIR treatment, like the hair on top of your HEAD and it's called a "blowout".....yeah, not the best choice of terms but basically you use a BLOW dryer to blow the curls OUT....hence, blowout.  Got it?  Okay so there we were, mid blowout (stop giggling) and Barry walks into the shop.  Now, he looks like either someone has died, or maybe he was fired, or maybe he saw the dent I put in the back of the flex (just kidding honey, that was my mom), or maybe he finally saw the receipt from the last pair of boots I bought....anyways....he looks very upset.  He demands to speak to me in the back room and says he's on his way to pick up Kohen from school.  Awesome.  AND that Kohen has been kicked off the bus........for uttering threats.  Now, Kohen is six, and a boy, so I'm a little confused for a minute about what types of "threats" he'd be saying to get him into so much trouble.  I mean, at our house, the boys threaten each other all the time......threats of punching each other and taking away toys and kicking and smacking........but our darling didn't threaten any of no....Kohen told another student he was going to "stab you with a knife".  Yeah.  He went there.  The other detail......he told this to a kindergarten girl.  A little sweet girl in kindergarten....probably wearing a sweet little floral dress and pigtails.  Stab you with a knife. 

*crickets chirping*

Yeah.  I didn't know what to say either...all though, upon telling this story to people at the salon, I had one person remark "Awwwww he's got a crush!!" which actually made me laugh pretty hard. But I guess they suspected he may actually HAVE a knife....which, knowing Kohen, anything is possible.  He was searched and his backpack was searched and thank god obviously he didn't have one!  So we got phoned and called into the office and told they were making an example of this and he was suspended for the day, and off the bus for the rest of the week.  Ohhhhhhh Kohen.  And what do you do??  To punish him?  He was all excited that we'd be picking him up from school....and driving him too was like a vacation for him.  And he's already grounded off of video games and computer and and and and.....what else is there?  So we reinforce that it's bad to say and we don't talk like that and made him apologise......and hopefully in the future the neighbours cats won't ever go missing and wind up in our deep freeze.

Friday, 20 April 2012

My Favorite Tool

Welcome to this months blog group blog posting!  Usually I hummmmmm and mmmmm and hmmmm about whether or not to join the months post...sometimes because I just don't "feel" the topic or sometimes because no matter how hard I try, I can't put together a blog based on the subject given to us.  Yes, each month we have totally free reign to adapt the topic as we see fit, but I can't always make magic!  Just sometimes......ha!  So this month, as soon as I read the topic....BAM!  I knew exactly what I was writing about. Like a bolt of lightning from the heavens...........the idea.  So, the topic is "My Favorite Tool" and now that I'm thinking about it....I could have chosen all sorts of different things...perhaps I have a plethora of favorite tools!  Wine openers, blow dryers, scissors, my iphone etc etc etc.......but this tool is special to a strange, messed up "I need my own sitcom" type way.  So here we go....drumroll favorite tool is.....dun dun ex Kevan.  Yup.  He's a total tool.  Urban dictionary defines "tool" as (many of things but this is my fav) such...

1.) A guy with a hugely over-inflated ego, who in an attempt to get un-due attention for himself, will act like a jackass, because, in his deluded state, he will think it's going to make him look cool, or make others want to be like him. The person may even insincerely apologize later on, but only in an attempt to get more attention, or to excuse his blatantly intentional, and unrepentantly tool-ish behaviour.

2.) Someone whose ego FAR exceeds his talent, intelligence, and likability. But, of course, he is clueless regarding that fact. He erroneously thinks he is THE MAN!

3.) Someone who others normally refer to as a prick, dick, or schmuck.

4.) Someone who acts like a dick, because...well...he's compensating.

5.) Kanye West

Now....okay.....this is all coming off very mean....and really, number 3,4 and 5 (obviously) don't apply to him. And here's the thing, he's MY ex, and we are the best of friends and share a child together.  He sleeps over on Christmas eve, is invited to every family event/birthday/holiday, phones us first to borrow money and the list goes on.  And honestly, if anyone else ever were to call him a tool, I'd be the first person to get my hackles up and fight them in his defence.  But, after our history, I am allowed to call him that.  It's like, when you live with a gay guy (been there) and he says "okay, you can call us fags now" cause you're like "in the club" by association.  It's my ex, and I can call him a tool.  I'm sooo not an ex basher, and anyone who reads my blog knows this because they're all sitting there right now scratching their heads saying "wait, there's an ex who's a tool?  Why isn't this a constant topic of blogging?!?!" and honestly, any bashing I do, I do it straight to his face.  But seriously, sometimes.....he is just really a complete tool.  I mean, yeah, there's reasons why he's my ex!  And because share a child....I'm kinda stuck with him.  But thankfully, we get along well enough, and are friends enough to do so in an amazingly dysfunctional, yet completely functional kind of way like....90% of the time.  The other 10% I want to either hit him with my car, or punch him in the face with a brick....why?  Because.  He's a tool.  Weren't you paying attention?  Sheesh. 

PS - Kev, if you're reading this....there's a compliment in here somewhere.....I'll give you 10 seconds to find it before I refuse to speak of it again.  Oh, and the fact that on all the child support money bank transfers you put "boob job" in the memo line just kinda helps prove my point here.  Also....remember that time you burnt my dresser and all my books? 

OH AND please check out the other members of our blog groups blog....a few new people on there this month!!

Andes cruz:
Barbara Donovan:
Robyn Hawk:
Kathleen Krucoff:
Beth Cyr:
Natsuko Hanks
WATTO (Mary)
Wendy Kelly
stephanie clark

Tuesday, 17 April 2012

Some of the Texts you'll find on my phone at any given time....

I've posted one of these before.....but it's time again.  I've had so many funny text messages lately that I have to share!  These messages make me literally LOL and I really think you guys are all so amazingly clever!  Warning....bad language!!!  No names shared but here's a few of my recent favorites....

"Okay well apparently *** didn't do anything towards dinner for tonight so the pork isn't marinating and it's too late to start now so any ideas?"
"Ohhh, I could have come and helped! Could do the hot pepper jelly thing?"
"Or he could have just fucking done it.  I told him it had to marinate.  I'm so mad"
"Maybe we should have lobster and pasta"
"*** doesn't like lobster.  He can have a fucking hot dog."

"I'm a mean, abusive person.  To my liver I mean."
"ME TOO!!!!!!!!!!!"

"I feel great this morning.  Go figure...maybe cause I only had 2 sambucas instead of 10"
"Wow.  Math to the rescue again!"

"I know.  I'm smart like that."
"I know.  I made you."
"Thanks mom.  So who's my real dad?"

"Dad won over $1000 at the casino"
"Dad says "oh ya, right" in a sarcastic tone"
"I knew I was his favorite"

"I'm giving it to you for your birthday ;-)"
"That AND fluevogs?  Oh honey you spoil me!!"
"Message send failure"
"Check head for loose screws"

"Hows the coffee??"
"GROSS.  I liked your cup.  And I was eating peanut butter"
"Crisp? Haha"
"Haha you're still drunk"

"How's your mother in law to be doing?  haha I MAKE JOKE!"
"Hahaha I punch your face next time I see you"

"Are you pooping?!"
"Yes!  When else do you creep facebook relationship statuses?"
"Haha well personally I tumbl"
"I tumbl for ya"

"Umm I did my hair and makeup and ate a hotdog"
"Hahaha!  Your day wins!"
"Haha oh and tried vodka and tang.  Not good"
"I ran out of everything else for mix. And I nearly puked but I didn't want to waste so I drank it"
"Ha!  Such a good little girl scout!"

"I have to look my best at all times"
"Never know when you'll have a man visitor and need to woo them"
"True story.  Happens all the time...."
"I mean, they're all under the age of 12 but never too young for a good old fashioned wooing"
"Theyre 12, you look 12, nothin illegal here"

"Kohen just bounced the ball off the coaches head"
"It's actually a good thing.  His aim is spot on!"

"Stop my keys"
"Coming Bach haha"
"In the cup holder.  Beethoven"

"I want something good for dinner."
"Beans and wieners?"

"Bob Loblaw's Law Blog?"
"No seriously.  Huh?"

"Will you make sure that the maximum amount of animals have to die in the making of my jambalaya?"
"Sure will!!  I'll even throw a couple endangered species!"
"Killer whale for all!  I'm pretty sure that's a law."
"And hopefully the neighbours won't notice their missing cats."
"On your birthday you can kill any animal"

"Wfh  (working from home).  I'm starting that."
"I'm wfw"
"Not starting that."
"Too late."

"What are you guys up to?"
"Smoking pot and drinking jack daniels all while we wait for the hooker to get here next"
"Oh good.  Life lessons."
"I figured we might as well get them all over at once"

"Hey loser.  I'm drinking some wine and listening to blue rodeo right now, and although i think your pretty annoying and smelly, I'd sure like to be partaking of those two things with your company"
"We're drinking some wine and listening to The National and I'm pretty sure I don't miss you and you'd hate everything about our deck/view right now"
"Yeah probably, I really prefer the view I have of the four lane road I have in front of my place"
"I'm sure you do.  That way you can imagine yourself laying across it once you finally realize moving away was the biggest mistake of your life and things aren't worth living without me and all my awesomeness"

"We're at the colander right now so the poops should come out extra easy tonight."
"Hahaha that's pretty you guys give out dirty needles and band aids in robson at halloween?"
"Actually we're in Trail trick or treating so we'll probably get lead and herpes"

"Hey ya cock coming for dinner still?"
"Only to see if your any uglier then the last time I saw you."

"Hey fucker!!  Merry Christmas asshole!  I also love you for some strange reason so fuck you"
"Because I love you too.  I would have considered marrying you, but then I wouldn't want my life to resemble hell, so I can't.  But I will say merry christmas and I miss you!"

"Getting a new tattoo and was going to get a portrait of your face but when I showed the tattoo artist your picture, he clawed his own eyes out while screaming obscenities so now he's blind and it's all your fault."
"I'm not surprised.  The doctor who delivered me has been in a waking coma since he laid eyes on me, I was the worst he'd ever seen."

"It is 6:35am and I am currently at the GYM.  What.  The.   Fuck. is probably what you are thinking, but such is the power that is my mid life crisis that I will bench press you."
"Ha!  If you tried to bench press me, the weight of my incredible good looks would crush you in a millisecond."

Monday, 16 April 2012

A little bit of puke talk to go with your morning coffee....

I feel I shouldn't have to say this....if you read the blog title at all.....but I know, some of you are like me, and maybe just a tad bit slow and wine hung over fuzzy in the I'll repeat myself.  This blog contains talk of puking, puke, throw up, vomit, bucking, upchucking, ralphing, barfing and any other way you want to put if you have a weak stomach, maybe just skim through the rest.  Or go read my blog about penises or something constructive.  Now.....for those still with us, I'll begin.

There is nothing quite like being woken up at 4:43am by your child bursting into your room yelling about puking.  I know, pretty great right??  Except I'm going to take that AND one up was someone elses kid doing the my house.  Awesome now right??  I KNOW!  4:43am and Gavin comes busting in "WADES PUKING!"  Barry jumps up "where??"  "In the bathroom!"  Phew right?  Wrong.  Gavin quickly follows up with "but he puked somewhere else first."  "WHERE???"  "I don't was dark....."  EFFFFFFFFF.  I groggily get up and head downstairs...following the sound of heaving.  Now the boys were sleeping in our computer/toy room downstairs on foamies....I flick the light on and there's the biggest pile of vomit I have ever seen....all down the side of the foamy....and on the area rug....and his shirt is sitting in it as well.  What's a girl to do?  I turn around, turn that light off and head back to bed.  Hahahaha just kidding....all though, I'm sure most of you would have been like "yeah, that's what she would do...okay so now where's this story going?" and to those people I say C'MON!  Give me a few mom points here!  Instead I look at Barry and say "You have a mess to clean up"  hahahaha again.....well, sort of.  I did turn the light off.  And look at Barry and just shake my head while mouthing "HOLY FUCK OH NO!"  The best part (best used very sarcastically) is that for dinner, this kid had 2 pieces of panago pizza with roasted veggies and goat cheese....followed by a giant plate of my world famous chicken scallopine.  So now imagine that.  Or don', let me describe it to was kind of like a pale yellow with fettuccine noodles  Too much?  Yeah, me too.  So I grab some plastic bags and we bag up the shirt.....I take the foamy and carefully maneuver it through the house and promptly chuck it out the front door on the lawn all while Barry rolls up the area rug and it joins the foamy on the grass.  I didn't really like that rug anyways.  And you know you can't get puke smell out of stuff like that.  Never mind the fact that as I was standing there looking at it, the only thing I could think of to clean it up would have been a shovel.  I'm not kidding!  It was a PILE of PUKE!  I guess this is karma, getting me back.....which leads me to part two of my story....

Yes, this part also is about puke....sorry...not really.  So I was maybe 10ish...11....12....somewhere in that range....and we go on a family vacation to Spokane.  Now, back then (I'm old remember) Spokane was the only place we ever went to that had a Costco.  I remember that place being HUGE and like AMAZING and wow.  So we are getting ready to leave our hotel, heading down for some breakfast at like a Denny's or whatever and I'm starting to feel a little queasy.  I attempt some dice.  So I get a 7up to go and lay in the car trying to sleep while my family finishes breakfast.  I'm woken up by my siblings climbing on me to their seats and it's off to Costco!!  Now I'm still reeeaallllyyyy yucky feeling but somehow I get out of the car and head in.  Not long into our shopping trip and I look at my family "where's the bathrooms!?!?!?" and my dad offers to take me......

side telling this story last night around the supper table (yeah, we're odd like that) my mom interjects here "HA!  He chose that over being left alone with the other two!  One puking one who was old enough to handle herself over the two younger ones!" and she rolled her eyes a lot. off we go.  Of course the bathrooms are at the far end of the behind all the check outs.  And I'm pretty sure there was like 20 checkouts and of course they are all lined up to the rafters and there's at least 231837421 people there who can all see me running towards the bathroom.  All of a sudden BLAAAHHHHHHH and I buck all over the floor, while running.  My dads behind me yelling "RUN!!!!" and like shoving me ahead with his foot "RUUUNNN!!!"  BLLLAAAHHHHH and I buck again....while running....behind the tills....where at least a million people are trying to ring through.....BLLLLLAAAAAAHHHHH SPPLLAAATTTTT all over the floor again.  My dad is kicking me, propelling me forward RUUUUNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!  I finally make it to the bathroom...leaving behind like 4 puke piles.  My dad can't come in so he waits outside and some lady takes pity on me.  I still remember her.  She had these CRAZY long painted fingernails and this totally coiffed bouffant hairdo....she rubs my back and holds my forehead so I don't smash it into the toilet seat as I violently barf up all my organs, I'm sure of it.  Another lady gets some cold wet paper towel and they both "there there's okay" me while my dad yells to check on me every now and again.  Finally I'm done....and think I'm okay.  I head out to my dad...I'm shaky and crying and we head back to find the rest of the fam.  Now here's the worst part.....of the entire thing....upon my walk back....past the 3726 check outs and 219837436 customers....I walk past a teenager boy who's on mop duty.....mopping up my piles of puke.  I'm mortified.....and croak out a sorry to him while he glares at me.  My dad gets one of those like big flat carts to put all your giant Costco purchases on and makes a nest of everyones coats and that's where I ride for the rest of our shopping trip.  So basically the moral of the story is, if you're going to puke all over the floor of Costco, some kid will later throw up on your rug.  Truth.

Friday, 13 April 2012

Spring, you stupid jerk.

All I've been doing is whining about wanting spring....wanting it to hurry up and get here.  Hurry up and get sunny!!  And this morning, it's sunny!  It's beaming into all my windows....and I don't have curtains so it's literally BEAMING into all my windows.  And now it's here, and sunny, I'm going to whine about something else.  Fuck you spring.  That sunshine is just highlighting all the grossness that my house has become over the winter.  All the dust, and dirt and grime that was hiding in the long dark winter days is now glaring at me everywhere.  Too many months of the kids being cooped up inside and I can see every disgusting fingerprint, jam smudge, juice spill and I don't even want to know what other stains.  It's making me grumpy because yet again today, I have to ignore it all and go to work.  Another day that it's going to stay a filthy mess.  This week, my husband and I have seen each other only a handful of times in passing....I've been sick and grumpy with a cold and the kids are all squirrely from having too much time off school and the change in seasons.  We haven't had time for a spring clean, and not that it would do much....leave it to the 3 boys who live with us and the place would be destroyed in record time, as usual.  And even if we do get a spare couple hours, trying to do housework with the kids is a mission impossible.  The 2 year old follows you around leaving a path of mess and the other boys do nothing but cry and fight over who has to do what and where.  It's a frustrating job.  Basically what we need is a nice, neat, tidy apartment that we can just go like hang out in every once in a while.  Leave the kids the house to run all Lord of the Flies in and destroy as they see fit.  And as they get bigger, and smellier, I'm sure the mess will too.  I can't even count the number of times a day we clean the kitchen, and if you could see it now, you would call me a filthy liar and probably spit at me or whatever people to do filthy kitchen liars.  And there's my whine for the day.  Hopefully my wine for the evening will make some of it better.  The only thing left to say about all of this is a quote from a guy who used to work with my dad.  Whenever anyone would moan and groan about their kids he'd say "That's the price of fucking." and ya ya ya....I know I know I know.  When one of them becomes a rich orthodontist and we can live the extravagant lifestyle, we'll sit around and laugh at that saying....laugh all the way to the bank.

Friday, 6 April 2012

Normal vrs Me

Now....if it were your birthday, where would you go to get a birthday outfit??  I'm going to say, probably you'd hit up some stores.....maybe JJs, Bootlegger, Bia Boro.  You'd try on some cute tops, a dress or two, maybe a new pair of sassy jeans.  Then if that didn't work, maybe you'd hit up some friends.  They'd all start bringing you pretty things from their closets for you to try on.....everyone would exclaim "Hey!  I've got that cute shirt/dress/skirt" and you'd give them all a go.  And in the back of your head, you'd probably have an outfit or two lined up in your own closet.....nothing that you really want to wear, but you know would work in a pinch.  Sounds normal right?  What normal people would do upon getting ready for their birthday?  Great!  So enter Me.  What do I do when trying to find something to wear for my up coming birthday party, an event of dancing at the bar?  I message up my 18 year old girl clients who dance jazz/tap/ballet/hip hop at the local dance studio and ask them to bring me dance costumes.  Yes.  That's what I do.  How old am I turning??  Oh right, 12 apparently.  Dance costumes....seriously??  The best part, in that bag full of gaudy metallic spandex, sparkles and sequins, I've already got two things picked out.  I guess I never really did outgrow my admiration and lust for figure skating costumes.  Huh.

Thursday, 5 April 2012


I am NOT a morning person.  I'm pretty much the crankiest you know what if I get up on the wrong side of the bed....which is any side of the bed really some mornings.  And other mornings, things have potential to be okay but one of my fucking darling children will essentially shove me off the wrong side of the bed and the rest of the day is doomed.  Take this morning for example.  The alarm goes off the first time, which the clock is set 15 minutes fast to begin with just so I can snooze it a couple times and not be late, and I slap the snooze right out of that bitch.  I hear Barry downstairs getting ready to leave for work and I hear Kohen head on down there too.  Good, I don't have to drag Kohen out of bed, he's already up, good start I can snooze one more time.  SNOOOZE. In my half asleep, half awake state I hear Kohen opening the microwave up.  He insists on having his chocolate milk warmed up.  I drift off again and hear Kohen whimpering.  Now, I know what this is looking like..........I'm the mom, all up warm and cozy in my bed while my little darling child is downstairs playing with cooking appliances....and before you "go there" let me interject with this; he's almost 7 and can heat up his own damn chocolate milk....if my kids wind up in the Hunger Games, they are going to be prepared, that's my job as their Mom so mind your own damn business.  Where was I?  Oh right....whimpering.  Okay, again, let me clarify......I'm not talking whimpering like "ow ow ow hurt", I'm talking like "oh shit moms gonna snap".....see the difference?  Okay good!  So anyways.....I assume he's spilt his chocolate milk in the attempt to haul it out of the microwave which is a little higher up then he can really reach (7...Hunger Games....raise your own kids) so I haul myself out of bed and grumpily start heading down.  Kohen meets me on the stairs and he's got his face covered by his hands...

"I'm sorrrrrry mom!  I'm sorrrrrrry!"
Big Sigh "What Kohen?"
"I wanted to make an egg and it exploded."
"WHAT??!!??" I didn't even know he could crack open an egg!
"I'm sorrry!  But it like....exploded!"

I walk over to the microwave and notice the time is sitting at 2:35 so I'm assuming it was set for 3 minutes and open it up (he's closed it and run) and this is what I find...

I took the glass part out already before I got smart and thought I should take a pic so it's not as bad as it use your imaginations and picture that glass spinny part COVERED in egg whites and explosion.  Now, I'm looking at this and I'm a little stunned.  How did that egg explode........ohhhh......shells.  Basically Kohen stuck an ENTIRE egg, in it's SHELL in a cup, and nuked it for almost 1 minute.  Huh.  Neat.

This was all that was left in the cup.  Those suckers EXPLODE pretty majorly.  So that's how my morning started!  I spent the next half hour trying to scrape cooked egg off the inside of my microwave with a butter knife crying.  Oh, and I tried the ol' stick a cup of water in the microwave and heat it up and let the steam gently massage and caress all the gunk off the inside of your microwave trick....and in my half stunned morning state, nuked it for a minute and a half and then whipped open the microwave, grabbed the cup and totally burnt my hand so that worked pretty well.  And it didn't even get the egg off....cause I missed the step where you leave your microwave closed and let the steam actually DO something (other then burn you) for future reference, if you need household cleaning tips, ask somebody else because apparently Susy Fucking Homemaker I'm not.  Shattered your dreams with that one didn't I?  And as for Kohen....he's had a rough couple of days.  Yesterday evening we found all our missing toothpastes thrown into our non-working storage bathtub downstairs hiding amongst the mops and cleaning supplies because he "doesn't like the taste" and we're out of kids toothpaste.  Wouldn't life be dull without him??  I just keep repeating that to myself with every sip of wine.  Merlot and fruit loops for breakfast again!!  Haha just kidding, that's gross, you gotta drink it with cheerios.