50 Shades Of Grey: I’m Reading This Craptacular Book So You Don’t Have To. You’re Welcome.

I know, I know. Many seem to LOVE this cringeworthy, hot mess of a so-called book. Me? I’ve tried reading it twice and was only able to barely make it through the first few pages. But the movie is coming out next year and stars Mr. Hottie McHotster, Jaimie Dornan.

And yes, I will absolutely, positively see this craptastic masterpiece of a movie when it comes out on Netflix. Because I have a 5 year-old and have pretty much forgotten what a movie theater looks like.

I first noticed this gorgeous man, Jaimie Dornan, in Marie Antoinette, playing Count Fersen. Whooo! Is it getting hot in here? And I remember some scenes where he was grinding up against the lucky, lucky Kirsten Dunst.

Yeah, it is hot in here.

Now, I’m not a book snob by any means. I mean hello, I look forward to my US Weekly coming in the mail every week and may even do a happy dance when I see it. But 50 Shades Of Grey is pretty fucking awful. And that’s putting it mildly.

So, a few days ago I gave myself a little talk. I said “You know what, me? This craptastic book must be read! It’s not like you need to read it for the movie or anything. You must read it for the laughs.”

Keep in mind. There are a few universal truths:

1. Laughter really is the best medicine.

2. You need those guilty pleasures because life can be a pain in the ass.

3. Jaimie Dornan is such a hottie.

Now, this is where you may or may not come in. I would love for us to read this “book” together. And no, I won’t judge you if you’ve already read it. Or maybe even liked it. Okay, I probably will judge you but that’s besides the point. I promise not to hold it against you.

We need to read this book together, have some laughs, and snark the shit out of it.

I will try my best to give weekly updates on it and you are more than welcome to do the same. Whether you put your take on it in the comment section of my blog, on my FB page, or if you have your own blog and aren’t worried about your readers and/or family members questioning your life choices and sanity.

Whatever the case may be, if I have your permission, I’ll include your views of this book in the updates or link the post you write on your blog.

So, who’s with me?

Don’t worry, if you’re all for it and want to participate but then decide not to, no big deal.

So, ladies… this week, we will be reading the first 4 chapters.

Remember, Jaimie Dornan is counting on us!

Oh my, excuse me while I stick my head in the freezer and cool off.

Hot damn, this man is fine!

Hot damn, this man is fine!

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How To Survive A Visit From Your In Laws

1324012756612_5703688My in laws have finally left and surprisingly, I survived. I pretty much avoided them and stayed out of their way as much as possible. Unless of course they took us out to eat. Because HELLO, FREE FOOD! Who the hell doesn’t like a free meal?! Nobody, that’s who.

If I didn’t avoid them as much as I was able to, I would probably be writing this with pencil and paper from a prison cell. I would’ve been all Orange Is The New Black but really though, orange just isn’t my color.

Well, it isn’t really anyone’s color, except for maybe super hotties like Mark Ruffalo, Ryan Gosling, Chris Hemsworth, Liev Schrieber, or perhaps even the always gorgeous Kerry Washington and Robin Wright.

But I’m totally getting off point here.

For the low, low price of zilch, zero, nada, you too can follow these easy steps to survive your visiting in laws.

Take notes, people! There may be a pop quiz later on.

Step 1: Drink… A Lot. Vodka or wine in a coffee mug is a great choice. Especially one that has been hand painted by your child. It will look sweet and innocent but at the same time, you’ll be getting plastered. It’s a win win.

Hiding your alcohol intake will be one less thing your mother in law will judge you by and bitch about. It will also make it more tolerable and entertaining when your in laws tell you stories about your spouse growing up that you’ve heard 1oo times before.

Step 2: Fake an illness (cramps, bloating, pms, mad cow disease, problematic anal warts) and hide out in your bedroom with chocolate and a good book. Make sure to let out a few groans of pain in their presence.

Step 3: Fake raging diarrhea and hide out in your bedroom with chocolate and a good book. Nobody questions diarrhea. Ever.

Step 4: See steps 1-3.

Happy visiting!

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I’m Finally Ready

Well, as ready as one can be after losing a child.

After we lost Ben, it took some time to receive his ashes. When we finally got them, we quietly decided that the best thing to do at the time was to lock them in our safe.

While we didn’t speak the words, I think it was mostly because we weren’t ready to accept it. So there his ashes sat, locked away along with our feelings about such a tremendous loss.

Recently, I felt it was time to take them out. Time to slowly face what happened, as difficult as it is.

The loss is too great and I still can’t seem to find the words to express my grief.

The pain comes in waves and I think the reason that it happens that way is because if grief came all at once, it would be too overwhelming to handle.

Too heartbreaking.

So much more heartbreaking and devastating than it already is when dealing with this grief every day.

But I’m finally ready to take this first step.

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A Mom’s View: What Happened To My Bathtub?

As I took a shower yesterday, I went to shave my legs but when I lifted one of my legs up, I knocked over a small bucket containing a few squeaky ducks, some kind of small fish that squirted water, and a fake orange wtf from my daughter’s play kitchen.

That’s when I started thinking. What the hell happened to my bathtub?!

Pre-hummingbird, I would indulge in long, hot showers. Oh, those were the days. Or the occasional relaxing bath complete with an inflatable bath pillow, a loofah brush, soft music, and lit vanilla candles on the bathroom counter. Maybe even a glass of wine.

Post-hummingbird, I’m inundated with squeaky ducks, toy cars, and even snorkeling gear. Because every kid, or at least my kid, can’t seem to have a bath without it.

Now, I do quick showers while the hummingbird yells out Mom… Mom? Where is my Hello Kitty shirt? I want to dress up like Elsa but can’t find my blue dress. Can you give me a braid ? I pooped, can you help me wipe my butt? MOM! Are you almost done???

That’s when I thought, you know what? I’m going to show you a mom’s view of the crap all over the bath. And because I’m kinda nuts, I even took a picture.

Now, keep in mind, it’s usually more of a disaster than usual but I recently cleaned up because in just mere hours, my in laws will be visiting for four fucking days. Yeah, you read that right. My in laws are coming for a visit.

RED ALERT… MY IN LAWS ARE COMING!

Don’t worry. I’ve already purchased an economy sized bottle of red wine and made sure I have plenty of vodka at the ready. Actually, while we were at the store, my husband grabbed a big bottle and said “Do you think this will help you make it through my parents visit? hahaha

In case you’re new here, you might want to take a look at some of these in law posts: My MIL ruined my wedding and made me want to set myself on fire just so I could get away from her crazy, In-law Apocalypse, My in-laws are coming and I’ve already reserved myself a spot in a psych ward just in case, The time when my in-laws invited themselves to my sister’s wedding and she wanted to kill me and then my mom wanted to kill them only 2 hours after their presence, the very touching story of A Lack Of Boundaries With A Side Of Ranch Of Ranch Dressing, and my personal favorite… When You Wish Upon A Star… And It’s Stuck Up… Up Where?!.

If you dare, just scroll though my subjects and look up in-laws and mother-in law where I vent, bitch, and whine about them.

But back to the subject at hand.

A Mom’s and Dad’s view after kids. This could go two ways, zero participation where all you hear is crickets, chirp, chirp… or wanting to show your view. Whether describing your kids takeover of your bathroom in the comments section, or posting you own photo on my Facebook page, This Is Mommyhood.

I would absolutely love to read about it or see pics. I can’t be the only mama out there with this issue.

So, come on ladies and gents. Don’t be shy. We’re in this together. Show me what you’ve got! If this goes well, I may, just may show you my 5 year-old’s room aka the disaster zone that’s clean for five minutes and then BOOM, it’s an outright mess. I may even show the hot mess that is my kitchen, or the hummingbird’s play area… GASP!

This is my view of the bathtub. But keep in mind, it usually looks much worse, with toys on the floor and lying all over in the tub:

Mermaids, and buckets, and snorkeling gear, oh my!

Mermaids, and buckets, and snorkeling gear, oh my!

xoxo

Updated: If I get at least 5 pics of your bathtub kid takeover on my FB page, I will absolutely show you the little hummingbird’s hot mess of a bedroom next week. WTF am I saying?! I’ll probably show you anyway because I just lurves to overshare. haha!

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Six Word Fridays: Mirror

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Mirrors show what some don’t see.

Or what some don’t want to.

Your reflection looking back at you.

It can be hard to accept.

But embrace yourself in the mirror.

The person staring back at you.

Be proud of what you see.

Be proud of who you are.

bbswf

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Book Suggestions: Mystery

a658a13627997ce052f6f032f3a59891I love books. All books. I’m such a book freak. Earlier today, I took the little hummingbird to her soon to be elementary school for her 3rd and final summer reading program check in where she was able to pick out three new (used) books, including Where The Red Fern Grows.

I read that book when I was a kid in school and if there weren’t any witnesses, I would’ve jumped up and down with excitement and squealed with delight when I saw that book lying in the box.

When it comes to her age group for summer reading, my 5 year-old rocked that shit. I love reading to her and hope she grows to love books as much as I do.

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Return To Grace Karen Harper

A young Amish woman, Hannah Esh, decides to go worldy and returns home to a graveyard in Home Valley on Halloween night with her worldly goth friends. A shooting takes place, leaving one of her friends dead and Hannah injured. She returns home to her Amish family and helps piece together the reason behind the shootings with her former ex, Seth Lantz, and Detective Linc.

lifewithoutparole

Life Without Parole Clare O’ Donohue

Kate Conway, a television producer, gets an opportunity to do a documentary at a local prison. Another job opportunity is a reality show about a new restaurant opening. One of the owners of the restaurant is murdered and Vera, the mistress of Kate’s dead ex-husband, is the prime suspect.

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The Skeleton Box Bryan Gruley

The Skeleton Box is the third in the Starvation Lake mystery trilogy. Gus Carpenter, an editor, looks into the break-in at his mother’s where her best friend and his ex-girlfriend are killed. Gus begins to uncover disturbing events about his town as well as his own family.

Some Kind of Peace

Some Kind Of Peace Camilla Grebe andÅsa Träff

Siri Bergman is a psychologist who lives outside the city in an isolated cottage. A patient of hers is found dead in the lake near here home and she begins to sense that she’s being watched. She’s in a fight for her life to catch the murderer before they kill again.

What have you been reading? I just got done with Mr. Mercedes by Stephen King, and right now I’m half way done with Bittersweet by Miranda Beverly-Whittemore, among a handful or others.

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The Trash Can Dance Off

oscarthegrouch1When my husband and I first got married, it was a really tough adjustment living with someone else. But we were in (mostly) newlywed bliss. Despite the several polite, newlywed fights, followed by the make up sex, rinse and repeat, we could do no wrong in each other’s eyes. Even when we wanted to kill each other at times.

About a year after we married and he graduated college, he joined the Navy, went to OCS, and came back home 3 months later. We soon hauled ass to Georgia where he went to school for 7 months. During this time, the newlywed bubble seemed to be popping and that’s when I noticed that my “perfect, could never do anything to annoy me husband” started to do those little annoying things.

When it came to taking out the trash, we were both stubborn as hell and still are. Hence, the trash can dance off.

You may know it. The trash can starts filling up and you stick your foot in it to smash it down and there you are with one foot in the trash can, one foot on the floor, and you may even add a little wiggle while weighing your foot (while wearing shoes) on the trash, stuffing it down as far as you can.

Because you don’t want to be the one to take it out. I leave feeling satisfied that I won’t have to deal with it, only to find out the next morning that he seems to have done the same thing. That’s when we know, without ever speaking about it, that the trash can dance IS ON! This game has been played between us for many, many years.

I’ll spend the day stuffing the trash down, certain that when my husband gets home, he will see it bursting at the seams and will take it out. My husband will come home and be certain that I’ll see that the trash can is bursting at the seams and he’ll think I’ll end up taking it out.

I’ll see the trash can right before bed with the lid poking up as if to say “Please, please one of you stop this silly shit and take me out! I’m going to explode!” I think to myself “There’s no way my husband will be able to put anything else in it the next morning.” And I will be certain that a fresh, new trash bag will be in it by the next day.

Nope.

That butthead is trying to out trash can dance me!! I’ll stuff it down even more with my foot but the lid isn’t having it and still pokes up. Fine, then I just won’t throw anything away today.

But even adding one tissue or paper towel to the trash makes the trash can wave the white flag and surrender. Damn it! Okay, okay, I’ll take it out this time.

But the next time my husband and I have a trash can dance off, I will win.

Oh yes, I will win!

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