Archive | hold me RSS feed for this section

How Slow Can You Go?

I have a very active 8 year-old who can’t sit still for very long. I also found that 8 is the new 12 when it comes to attitude. Oh, man… the attitude is strong with this age.

She runs circles around me and wears me out in an hour. The hummingbird has the energy for gymnastics, soccer, ice skating, and skiing. But, when it comes to her getting ready for bed, holy shit, she goes so slow.

She’ll be bouncing off the walls and I’ll ask her to clean up her room and then, holy shit, she’s way too tired. The bird will be over at her friend Jake’s house next door for two hours and will come bouncing down the driveway but when I tell her she needs to get some homework done. Holy shit, she’s way too tired.

I would think after four years of her being in school that we would have a morning routine down but, holy shit, it’s a rush to the finish line every damn morning and I run around the house getting her to do her morning things like I’m being chased around the house by rabid dogs.

I would ask if this going slow thing when it comes to our kids gets easier as they get older and they actually speed up but I’m sure the answer is holy shit, girl, it gets worse. I imagine there will be more yelling and me still saying “pleeeeeease, hurry up!”

Comments { 0 }

I Thought I Was So Cool With My Cassette Player And Smurf Tape

When I was about 8 years-old, I was given a cassette player. It was during the height of smurf popularity in the 80’s and I was given a smurf tape that I played over and over and over again. Singing the smurf songs at the top of my lungs made me feel like a fucking rock star.

Now, when I come across pictures of myself during that time, I was a total dork. But, at the time I thought I was so cool. Yeah, sure. The picture of me in a mullet hairdo and an obnoxious Cosby Show sweater tell me otherwise.

I soon graduated from the smurfs to Rick Springfield, then my biggest loves of all… John Taylor and Duran Duran. Those were the days.

I didn’t understand the level of annoyance that playing those cassette tapes over and over must have caused my mom.

I have an 8 year-old and my eardrums are being tortured by Kidz Bop. I’m now understanding what my mom had to go through with my musical phases.

We listen to the Kidz Bop satellite station most of the time when we’re in the car. I can’t even put into words how much Kidz Bop annoys the fuck out of me. It’s almost as bad as my daughter’s Calliou phase, although I don’t think it’s possible that anything can annoy me more than that little asshole.

But, Kidz Bop is up there.

My daughter has even schooled me on the names of the Kidz Bop kids. Yes. I now know which one is Brianna. Okay, I don’t really but when we see her in a video, my daughter excitedly says that’s her and I just say mmmhmmm.

I never knew so much about parenthood was about pretending like you know what the hell your kid is taking about, shaking your head in agreement, and saying mmmhmm.

My most embarrassing moment this past week was when my daughter and I were driving home from the library. Whenever I hear Ed Sheeran’s song, Photograph, I tear up every damn time. No, I’m not ashamed of it! That’s a really great song and nobody can tell me any different. Nobody, I say!!

The radio was playing a Kidz Bop version of the song. I thought to myself, “Oh, please. This is going to be awful.”

Two minutes later, tears were rolling down my face.

Damn you, Kidz Bop!

Comments { 1 }

I’ll Just Pretend We Don’t Have A Government Right Now

Dear fellow earthlings,

Please help us here in America. I’ve had to ban myself from watching any news because I have been having such high anxiety. It feels like the world is going to end.

I feel like I’m a passenger on the Speed bus from hell except Keanu Reeves isn’t here to save the day. Every fucking hour, some crazy shit seems to go down in the political world and even though I’ve banned myself from the news, I still see it on the celebrity gossip sites.

All I’m asking for is some juicy gossip to take away from this shitstorm happening to this country.

Here’s a summary of the last seven months. All aboard the Speed bus!

Sean Spicer says the numbers for the inauguration was the biggest that was ever seen, period.

*grabs on to the sides of my seat of the Speed bus*

White supremacists are in the White House.

Muslim ban.

Um. Um. Holy fuck. *grabs a hold of my seat even tighter*

The Cheeto-In Chief tweets delusional, crazy shit.

Dennis Hopper was more likeable as the villian in Speed. *has panic attack because this fucker is going to get us killed in 140 characters or less*

Comey is fired.

SANDRA? KEANU? Anyone? Who’s driving this damn bus? Where’s the adult here? *braces self against my bus seat on the Speed bus to hell because it’s going to be one hell of a ride*

Tweet, tweet. FAKE NEWS! FAILING NEW YORK TIMES! FAKE NEWS!

What. The. Actual. Fuck? This is what journalists do. People won’t believe this delusional twat bag.

So, yeah. I was wrong about that. People are actually that stupid. *puts head down while sitting on the Speed bus to hell and takes deep breaths while preparing for impact*

Spicer is out. Sarah Fuckabee Sanders “I talk like I’m eating my face” is in.

And, surprise. Someone even thuggier than Tony Soprano; the Scary Mooch is in.

What. The Actual. Fuckity. Fuck?

Scarramouche, Scarramouche, will you do the fandango?

Boy Scout Jamboree.

Oh my fucking god. This is way too Hitler-esque.

*braces self on the Speed bus to hell because there’s a gap in the freeway and we’re all gonna die”

And, Scary mooch’s greasy, slimeball, thug ass is out of there after ten days.

Ha!

We make it across the gap in the freeway and things seem to calm down. There will be someone to do the adulting after all.

But, Cheeto-In-Chief tweets more of his insanity.

*Keanu enters. “There’s a bomb on the bus and it’s orange. It will blow at any time”.*

Seriously, where’s the fucking adult?!

Comments { 1 }

Last Night, I Woke Up From A Nightmare About Donald Trump Being Elected President. Oh, Wait…

A few posts ago when I posted about being in disbelief over Trump becoming the president-elect, I received some Pro-Trump comments. I didn’t publish them because I want to piss off any fucking idiot who supports him.

It doesn’t matter who you voted for. The fact is, he’s full of hate. He spews hate and it’s disgusting.

I feel like we are turning into that movie, Idiocracy. I blame the idolization of the Kartrashians. And, my in-laws. I enjoy blaming my in-laws for everything just because.

Comments { 0 }

My Ongoing In Law Cycle Of Thoughts

c94c64a74e1f0a102baa2f0dd7115055

My in-laws will be visiting in a little over two weeks and I’ve been trying to mentally prepare for them, especially now with our new house, they’ll be staying with us for four fucking days since there’s plenty of space and we can’t use that as an excuse.

I suggested to my husband that they should stay in a hotel anyway for a much-needed break in between the days but he thinks that’s impolite. Well, fuck. I personally don’t think so and would make it more about them needing their privacy but I didn’t win that one.

With the weeks and months that follow after one of their visits, I start softening up to them and after four or so months, I’ll convince myself that they really aren’t that bad. Then, I start feeling like shit about how much I rant about them and think this time when the in-laws come to stay with us, we’ll actually have a pleasant time. Hey, I never said I wasn’t delusional.

I’ll become so worked up with guilt and feel like a horrible person for the things I say about them. I start convincing myself that I just need to suck it up and stop overreacting. The hummingbird adores them and I keep my feelings to myself and it makes me happy that she’s so happy when they visit.

But then, they arrive. When we greet them, I’m kind of like a deer in headlights with thoughts of all the past bullshit I’ve dealt with when it comes to them and also the simple fact that oh shit, they’re actually here and this visit is really happening.

Within ten minutes, my father in law is talking about every single little detail that happened on their trip here and none of it relates to them. He’ll be saying what he overheard someone else on the plane talk about, go into a thorough overview of a person on his flight that he was nearby and without any knowledge of the person, form all of his own ideas and opinions about who this person might be, what kind of job they have, why they were traveling, etc, etc.

Then, we hear about the people who have died, for example a church member’s sister’s uncle’s grandmother who they have no idea about or never met and that will give me a bang my head against a spike moment. We also hear about how much my mother in law misses her over 100 turtles even though it’s been like five hours since she’s seen them.

By the two-hour mark, not only am I ready for them to go to their hotel room that they don’t have, I’m ready for the entire visit to be over with. But, what’s that? They brought a few gifts for the hummingbird. Hmmm, I can’t imagine what the theme of these gifts will be. Oh, look at that! A shirt with a turtle on it and lookie at the other one, a turtle purse.

At this point, I’ve gone into the kitchen at least once but more like twice to get a few shots of vodka. I can’t forget how the father in law will also discuss ALL the fucking construction in detail that he saw while driving up from Boston. Oh. my. god. A text usually goes out to my mom around this time with something usually along the lines of “help!”.

It will be about time for the bird to get into bed and once she’s tucked into her room, the four of us sit there while my FIL goes back to talking about the construction he saw on the way up here. He wonders what they’re doing if it’s road construction and make assumptions. If it’s something he saw being built like a new construction site, oh lawdy, he goes through the details of how it’s going to be built, with lots of detail and with a fine tooth comb even though he doesn’t know what the hell it’s actually going to be.

And again, this is all assumptions but since he loves to hear himself talk and lecture he seems pretty sure of himself that what he’s saying is fact. Oh. my. god. By now it’s been a good four hours since they’ve arrived and while it may be a little rude, I’ll turn on the television and put it on closed captioning and turn down the volume so he can continue with his lecturing and so I won’t fall asleep because the man is like human ambien.

What has become a little escape for me turns into a nightmare because the FIL starts reading the closed captioning out loud. And, he has 20,000 questions about what’s on when I haven’t yet seen it myself. He’s like my 7 year-old when watching things. Is it really that difficult for a 60 something grown man to not be able to draw conclusions for himself??! I mean, he seemed pretty capable with talking about construction bullshit and the people on the plane and in the airport and AGGHHH!

During this time, my MIL will take some passive aggressive starter strikes at me about how the house looks or how the hummingbird is being raised and how that’s not the way they did it when her kids were growing up.

I’m finally done and head off to bed completely wiped out. But the thing is they get me so wound up and are so fucking exhausting to be around that I don’t know what to do with myself. I’ll end up being too tired and mindfucked to sleep.

The next morning, I absolutely dread opening the bedroom door while hearing them out in the kitchen while the hubby gets breakfast together.

My FIL will always ask how I slept and if I’m doing okay. I’ll tell him no, no I’m not okay and I slept like shit because you two stress the fuck out of me so I’m sleep deprived and pissy from the lack of sleep I had that may have been resolved if you would have just stayed at a damn hotel.

Okay, that’s what I’d like to say but just say a simple fine. There’s of course not much breakfast table chatter since my FIL won’t shut the fuck up. He’s like one of those talking dolls that has a string in the back and once you pull it, it talks for a few seconds. Except, his string doesn’t have a stopping place.

There’ll be plans to go out and see the sites but oh darn, I’ve come down with some mysterious ailment and would be better off staying at the house while they go out with the family.

The non stop talking from my FIL and the passive aggressive bullshit from my MIL continues for the rest of the visit and finally the moment arrives.

They’re LEAVING!! HALLEFUCKINGLUJAH!

I put on my fake sad face and it’s all I can do to stop myself from shoving them out of the door. Finally, they’re gone and the bird will feel sad so I’ll console her while in my head a mariachi band plays to celebrate there departure. A few weeks after they’ve left, I’ll start to recover and get some of my sanity back.

After a month or two, the husband will mention that his parents are looking forward to come up and visit us again soon. My eyes meet his and I give him the death stare followed by a ‘they were just here!” A few months later, my daughter will start asking when she’ll see her grandma and grandpa again and I start to feel myself weaken.

The hubby and I go back and forth about what’s a good time for them to come and visit. I weaken some more and think this visit won’t be as bad as all the other ones, despite my 21 years of knowing otherwise.

Because damn it, maybe it’s all me and not just them and I’m sure I was just being on edge when they came for a visit last time.

This visit, I’ll make sure to do all that I can to have more patience.

They arrive and I will make this visit work in my favor.

Two hours later and two shots of vodka down the hatch and I’m ready for them to leave.

And the cycle repeats.

Oy!

Comments { 2 }

Assholes And The Dumbasses Who Love Them

The Kardashians – Years ago, I thought they were mildly entertaining but after seeing young girls aspire to be like the Kartrashian women, that’s some scary shit. These people have fans… what the fuck?

The Duggars – They spawned Josh Duggar and are in a cult. Need I say more?

Chris Brown – This fucking guy. Fucking fuck. What an abusive, angry asshole.

Our former landlord – I’ll just say that I am so thankful that we now own our own home and never have to deal with landlords ever again.

My brother-in-law – He’s a douche du jour. It’s been a few years since I’ve seen him so the douche factor isn’t as high as it’s normally been throughout the years but holy hell, he’s an asshole.

The Palin Family – I don’t even know where to start with this mess of a family. And seriously. Bristol Palin was paid thousand of dollars to speak and promote abstinence and got knocked up by two baby daddy’s. Please don’t misunderstand. Normally, that wouldn’t make me so judgemental but also, men and women that have different moms and dads for their children don’t get paid the big bucks for preaching abstinence.

Kanye West – Oy. He’s a delusional, raging lunatic. Fits right in with the Kartrashian family but damn, I feel bad for his poor kids.

Dani Mathers – I only first knew she existed yesterday and if you’re not familiar with her, she’s a Playboy playmate that took a photo of a naked woman in the shower at the gym. She posted the photo and made some smug ass comment about the woman’s body. This asshole committed an appalling act of an invasion of privacy. I go to the gym… when I remember because I’m paying 50 bucks a month, and I can’t even imagine someone doing that shit to me or thinking it was okay to pull something like that.

Mike Fuckabee – Hmmm. Let me count the ways. He’s an asshole, plain and simple. He also supported Josh Duggar. Dick.

Donald Trump – I could go on and on and on and on about this fuckwad. It enrages me that he spreads so much hate… and other assholes support his fuckwad ass. I’ve seen two Donald Trump For President bumper stickers and that’s two too many. He’s a misogynistic, racist, hateful piece of shit and it’s terrifying that so many people are supporting him.

*Lazeretto

Comments { 2 }

Being Four: The F*ck You Fours

If you’re still standing after four years of parenthood, or tilting over a little, congratulations. Break out the champagne! This is the fuck you fours. You should check your child’s head for 666.

This age made me feel like a ball in a pinball machine. One second, my daughter would be playing peacefully and 30 seconds later, she would throw whatever she was playing with in anger or frustration. Kind of like a mic drop.

So, here I am, the little pinball being whacked here, there, everywhere when it came to dealing with my 4 year-old’s emotions and attitude.

This was also when the door slamming started, like the hummingbird was 4 going on 14. The fuck you fours isn’t as what the fuckish as the toddler pms stage but it did seem to be more emotionally draining.

The sweet side to this age is that although they act like they want you to fuck off, they love hard. The hummingbird also started writing more at this age and seeing her write “I love you” on a card turned me into a puddle. I also love all the talking she did. It was cute.

Sure, I didn’t know most of what she was talking about and even though she’s now seven, I still don’t. It’s like this:

Mom, do you see me in the back seat? Mom? Mom?? Mom, I like this song. Do you like it? Mom, do you like it too? Why did you wave to that car? Do you know them? Mom, why did you wave? At school today, Tess and I played this game where we threw a ball and then hopped on one foot but if you don’t hop high enough, you have to take 10 steps back and then Spencer and that crazy boy came over and we decided to play chase and whoever won actually loses and then you have to take 5 jumps to the right and lose a turn while the rest of us hit a baseball and the other person has to shout woohoo each time we take a step….

I don’t know what it is about kids and games but they have 10,000 instructions.

Anyway, while the fuck you fours can be trying and I occasionally thought during this age how much longer until she’s 18 and out of the house, they are also at a very lovable age. Because they know if they weren’t, we would eat them.

*One Week

Comments { 2 }