About Elle

I'm a Navy wife and a mama to a daughter who's like a hummingbird on crack.
Author Archive | Elle

You Can’t Handle The Truth

With parenthood, I’ve found myself to be in several situations where I have to stretch the truth to really get the point across. She’s getting too smart to fall for much of that anymore but I still try.

Your teeth will fall out – So, your teeth can fall out if you don’t take care of them obviously but I make it sound like OMG! You won’t have any teeth in a few years so you need to brush them really well.

Yes, I love your singing – My daughter can sing but there are occassions when it’s kinda torture and I think make it stop while putting my finger in my ear. Then she’ll ask me if I knew that she was singing like Adele and of course I say yes, sweetie, you sound a lot alike.

I don’t have anything in my mouth. Why would you think that? – When I just have to sneak that cookie or have a bite of ice cream, she seems to pop up and asks what I’m eating. With a full mouth and a crunch crunch sound, I’ll say nothing. She’s too old to believe that anymore. Damn.

You need to get in bed early because it’s been a long day – Okay, while that is true, my reasoning behind it is holy shit, if my kid isn’t in bed soon, I will lose my damn mind because this day has been never ending and I won’t have time to watch The Walking Dead.

I can’t wait for your grandma and grandpa to get here – They’ve only been her since last night but I’m already hiding in my office to avoid them. I know the hummingbird will eventually figure things out and has done so with some things already but I keep it happy with their arrival even though my stomach will be in knots.

You need to go outside and play. Get some fresh air – Again, that’s true enough but my intentions are because A. I just want to be left alone. B. I’m pms’ing and would like to eat some chocolate in peace without sharing or C. Your father and I want to have a quickie because you never leave us alone or get to bed on time so we’re usually too tired.

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Let’s Go To The Vet

That’s right… it’s time for the vet. Let’s chase down our two cats. Ooops, almost had Penny. There she goes again. We’ll, I’ll let my husband grab her. There’s sweet, bigilicious Maisy lying on the couch with no clue about what’s going to happen soon.

And, both cats are in their carriers. I’m lint rolling my shirt because of all the cat hair and accidentally swipe my face with my hand to get off the sweat from my forhead.

Needless to say, sweat and cat hair is an awful combo. It looks like I have to shave my forehead now.

So, into the car we go. Maisy is all chill but Penny, well, Penny wants to sing us a song.

It’s called MEEEOOOOOOWWWWWWAAAAA!

Penny, it’s okay.

MEEEEOOOOOOWWWWWAAAA!

Pennnny, you’re okay. You’ll be just fine.

MEEEOOOWWWWWWAAA!

Okay, Penny, we get your point.

MEEEEOOOOWWWWAAAA!

Meow, meow, meow, Penny. I know, but it will be over soon.

10 minutes of torture Meow’s later….

We’re here, kitties!

MEEEEEOOOOWWWWWAAAA!

We’re standing in the lobby and Penny finally quiets. Hallefuckinglujah!

And, now were in the check up room.

MEEEEEEEOOOOOOOWWWWWAAAAA!

Oh my fucking god. Make it stop.

MEEEEEOOOOOWWWWWWWAAAA!

Hey, Penny. It’s okay.

A dog barks out side the room.

Penny does her sliding across the floor cartoon animal run.

I laugh my ass off.

Now, it’s time for sniffing, and more sniffing, and more sniffing….

But wait. Penny has more to say. MEEEEOOOOWWWWAAAA!

I wonder if they have cat xanax?

The assistant comes in with a thermometer. Oh, joy! The cats will LOVE this.

MEEEOOOOWWWWWAAA!

Let’s do Penny first. I watch as she lies there anxiously as my husband and I talk calmly to her.

And, boom! You don’t have to see it go in to know the thermometer is up her butt. Penny’s not quite sure about this. I sure as hell wouldn’t be either.

Now, Maisy’s turn. The chill cat will be chill while getting her temp.

Hey, Maisy. You’re doing so good. And, up the butt. Grrrrrrr! Hissssss!

Whoa, she’s the chill cat. Where did that come from? She looks at me like mom, if you were poked with that up your ass, you’d hiss too. Touche, Maisy. Touche.

And now, we wait for the vet.

Since both cats have been violated with the thermometer, it’s time to get down to cleaning themselves. But, Penny can’t let us forget she’s not happy so MEEEOOOWWWWAAA!

They hear someone outside the door and instead of running away from the door, they run to it. It’s vet time.

Penny and Maisy have two shots each but neither is up the butt so we should be good.

Finally finished. I’m covered with so much cat fur that I would’t be surprised if by wiping my mouth off to get the cat hair from my lips, I would look like I grew a beard. There’s also little chunks of fur on my shirt and shorts. I look at my husband and he has cat fur hanging from his nose. I start trying to take it off but he thinks I’m trying to pick his nose. Hey dude, I love you and everything but I would never pick your nose.

Anyway, it could be worse. It’s not like I’m putting a thermometer up his ass.

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Our Former Landlord Is Psycho

Warning… ranty words ahead.

Now that we finally bought a house after years of moving all over for the Navy, I thought we would finally be done with dealing with the worst landlord we’ve ever had at our last house.

But nope. This woman is a c u n t mobile. And, she’s a lawyer which is why she can find the loopholes to fuck us over. I know there’s much worse landlord stories than what we’ve gone through. My cousin, her husband and kids are dealing with a woman who puts locks on their shed and throws their little girl’s stuff all over the yard that they had stored away.

The rental market here sucks ass and last year, we only found one somewhat suitable property. It was overpriced and dumpy but it was between that or moving out an hour from where we were living. The house was so overpriced in rent by about 600 dollars but we were really screwed with the lack of options. We also decided not to buy back then because we were still planning on moving back to California or Seattle.

So, we rented from Ms. C u n t Mobile because we didn’t have any other options. From the second day we lived there and on, it was such a pain in the ass. Not only was the value of the house much lower while the landlord jacked up the price, there were also red flags with signing the lease.

She added in that if the stackable washer and dryer were to break, she wouldn’t buy a new one for the house while we were still there.

What I didn’t know was that the washer/dryer was a piece of shit that had the most disgusting smell. Something I wasn’t able to find out until we moved in. Blah, blah, blah, I ended up cleaning out black sludge from the rim of the washer because it hadn’t been taken care of. Not long after, guess what? Why, of course. The washer broke. Luckily we had our own but it wasn’t stackable and there was only enough space for a stackable one so the hubby had to build some contraption were it could fit in the small bathroom.

Ms. C u n t Mobile didn’t give a shit and didn’t even offer to haul it away. We had to have some friends move it down to the basement where it stunk everything up down there.

The landlord would also refuse to do any pest control. We had spiders all over and as much as my husband sprayed. It didn’t make a dent in them. One night while making my daughter’s lunch, I felt something drop on my arm from the ceiling and it was a fucking spider.

Oh my fucking god. After that, every time I made her lunch, I would be looking up at the ceiling every few seconds.

Another issue was the carpet. Not only was it old and falling apart, it was filthy. She kept insisting it was cleaned prior to us moving in but if that was the case, I wouldn’t have the bottom of my feet turn brown from the dirt on the carpet by the end of the day.

There’s lots more that’s petty bullshit but what we’re currently dealing with is our deposit checks. One is for our security deposit and the other is because we paid up until July 15th to give us more time to find a home but were completely moved out on the 5th.

Since we’re no strangers to moving so much, we calculate that since we moved out on the 5th, she would have until August 5th to pay us. But she insisted that since we wanted to extend our stay until the 15th, even though we didn’t stay that long and never had a written agreement, that she had until August 15th to pay us what amount to $2,500. We said fine like we have several times prior because she’s a psycho and we didn’t want to piss her off which would make bigger issues with her.

The hubby and I joked that just to be a bitch, she probably would even send the check until it was postmarked on the 15th, even though I felt it was due 10 days earlier.

Ms. C u n t y Mc Cuntster didn’t send the check until the 17th and it arrived to us on the 18th. That seemed like such a bitch move especially since she knew we were waiting for that chunk of cash.

The next day, the hubby and I got to Target for some things when out of nowhere he says he has to go to the car to make a phone call. I just assumed it was a work thing but he eventually comes back in while fuming. My husband doesn’t fume. He rarely gets anger and he’s as cool as a cucumber which can help tame my high anxiety.

He told me that Psycho had really pissed him off. My stomach sank and I couldn’t imagine what it could be. I had been telling him that I’ve been having a gut feeling she isn’t going to make this move out easy on us and will try and fuck us in some way.

And she sure did! She had emailed my husband and said while she was checking up on the utilities to see that they were all paid up (wtf? I’ve never had a landlord do that) and she found that morning that we have a sewer bill due for $71.40 and she will reissue our checks for the deposit and rent only after we show her proof that the bill is paid. She also said she was going to take the stop payment charges out of our money.

One… it we owe money on a bill, it was a complete oversight on our part and told her we accept that. We did find out that we owed it and paid for it promptly. We had just never received a bill. We also showed her proof of the payment but she’s been ignoring us and won’t answer her phone whenever we call.

Two… what the fuck, lady? She’s putting a stop payment on both checks when this bill has nothing to do with her. She wants proof that we pay it? And she wants confirmation from the sewer department after it’s paid by having someone from the department confirm it to her?

It’s pretty ironic that it’s the sewer department since she’s a piece of shit. Thankfully, my husband found that with Maine law, the landlord can’t keep any portion of the security deposit if it’s anytime after the date it was due, which was the 15th. We got it three days later. So, she fucked herself there.

Also, even though it’s in her lease about this very issue, the law says it overrides what the leaser says.

Either way, she finally fucked up but we haven’t heard from her since Friday evening. The law also states she has to give us the checks within 7 days or else she has to pay us double the amount she owes us. Go, Maine law! It seems so easy peasy. Just write a new check and send it out ASAP, or reverse the stop payment on the security deposit check.

But, I have a feeling with her being a lawyer, she’s going to fuck with us some more first since she’s been using so many loopholes for everything that she’s been fucking us over with this past year.

All I know is I actually had a celebration with tequila once we finally received those checks because it meant we never have to deal with the psycho again. But now, we’re still tied to her by this money.

What a bitch.

Any landlord from hell stories?

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Douche Bag

Me to Husband: Something smells fishy in the house. It’s like if you swam in a lake fishy kind of smell. What the hell is that?

Husband to Me: Maybe you need to douche.

Me: Runs up and jumps on his back while playfully pretending to strangle him. Goes back to sit on couch.

Me: I’m serious though. The house really does have a light fishy smell.

Husband: Then, close your legs.

Me: You asshole!

Me: Playfully pretends to strangle husband again. Honest. He really is still alive.

What it ended up being was that the hummingbird hadn’t been flushing her toilet and left the lid open with lots of pee. Gag!

Another day…

The hummingbird is in summer camp and we have the house to ourselves all day. We went out to lunch and came back home. It was only 1 pm so we had four more hours to kill and spend together.

Me: What should we do for the rest of the day?

A wide open opportunity to get some down and dirty time. Oooh la la.

Husband: I’m going to watch some You Tube videos on how to fertilize the yard.

Me: Yeah, I think I’m going to read for a while.

And, this is what (21 years of) marriage looks like.

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More Cowbell

Flash-Gordon

My husband needs to wear a cowbell. He’s the type of person who just sneaks up on to you out of thin air. He appears out of nowhere. Most of the time I want to tie a cowbell around his neck so I can keep track of him.

Just today, I was in the bedroom and heard the backyard door shut. It seems like not even a minute later, I start walking out of the bedroom when I see something zoom out of the corner of my eye. I’ve been a bit jumpy since I’m reading this book, and when I saw a blurred figure getting closer to me, I screamed my ass off.

He stood there looking at me like I was a crazy person and I told him he’s going to give me a fucking heart attack if he keeps this going. He’s also excellent at disappearing out of nowhere. On our second to last move, he was standing right next to me as he was talking with one of the movers.

And then, BAM, the mover asked a question, I turn to my husband, and he’s not fucking there. It’s like he has the speed of Superman. The hummingbird and I spend part of each night calling for him when she’s getting ready for bed. She’ll be calling DAD! DAD! DAAAAAAD?! while internally I’ll be thinking “What the fuckity fuck???? Where in the fuck did he fucking go???!”

My husband reminds me of this character in a movie called Dear God with Grep Kinnear. It’s a pretty cheesy but cute movie. The quick version is he’s a con artist, has to get a proper job after being arrested, works at the post office, and starts answering letters from people who write to god. It’s not religious-y though. Let’s say ‘religious-y is an actual word.

Anyway, totally getting off track. Greg Kinnear’s boss, played by the always awesome Hector Elizondo, pops up from time to time and whenever Greg’s character turns to ask him a question, Hector is gone in a flash.

Hector’s role completely encompasses my husband. He’s Flash Gordon. It can be rather annoying but we joke about it even though it irritates me to no end. I’m actually getting him a cowbell for Christmas as a joke.

I already know I’ll quickly regret that decision because not only will my husband walk around with it to annoy me, the hummingbird will get a hold of it and drive me insane but we’re getting her a drum set for Christmas so I figured it will be a good combo.

I’m a glutton for punishment….

Willingly getting a drum set for my 7 year-old. But the truth is, I want to learn to play too.

Then I can say, “Hubby, take it away. More cowbell!”

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Washing My Face

A reenactment of what it looks like when washing my face at the sink.

A reenactment of what it looks like when washing my face at the sink.

Step 1. Walk in the bathroom with dry clothes.

Step 2. Remove eye make up.

Step 3. Feel around for my skin cleanser since my eyes are stinging from the eye makeup remover and and I can’t fully open my eyes.

Step 4. Locate the cleanser. Wait a second. That’s the faucet handle.

Step 5. Finally find the cleanser.

Step 6. While still relatively dry, start washing my face.

Step 7. Rinse cleanser off my face.

Step 8. Have water run down over my elbows, dripping onto the floor and all over my shirt.

Step 9. Give my face a few more splashes.

Step 10. Get soaked.

Step 11. Feel around for the towel and have a moment of feeling nice because at least part of my body is clean since I haven’t had a chance to get a shower yet.

Step 12. Open my eyes and look around.

Step 13. See that my shirt is soaked and not just a little wet so I can’t give it a quick dry with the blow dryer.

Step 14. Notice that the counter is covered in water and splashed on the mirror.

Step 15. Go to the closet to get a dry shirt.

Step 16. On the way out of the bathroom, step into a puddle that was caused by my wild, flailing arms while washing my face.

Step 17. Take the hand towel and scootch it around on the floor with my feet to clean up the water.

Step 18. Change into a dry shirt.

Step 19. Dry off the counter with a towel while at the same time, giving me reason not to have to clean the bathroom for another week.

Step 20. Tell myself this is why I should only wash my face in the shower.

Step 21. When leaving the bathroom, step into another puddle of water.

Step 22. Accept that I’m a human hurricane when washing my face.

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Music Monday: Duran Duran

Yes, I’m showing my age but I loved the hell out of Duran Duran when I was younger and their posters were plastered all over my bedroom wall. It was a dream of mine to grow up and marry bassist John Taylor. Plus, there’s the whole men with accents thing that makes my panties drop. They’re still rocking the world and John still does things to me when I see him. Plus, I still squeal like a little girl whenever I hear them on the radio. Rock on, Duran Duran!

 

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