Now, before I start off, let me tell you............if you read this, and think it may be about you......sorry. I'm not telling on people, I'm just trying to back up my story.
Once upon a time, there was a couple who were unmarried yet madly in love (the people have since faded into crotchety old married people)............This couple considered themselves fairly good people and tried to help whenever possible. The following list is a chronicle of what we've tried to accomplish in our lives:
1997- a pregnant friend needed help paying medical bills due to lack of ins...we payed for them. (we were 16 and 18).
1999 (and 1995 and 1996)(This one is just me)- a self destructive friend was being abused at home and ran away twice, moved out once. She lived at my parents house and we welcomed her. She has since turned around and called me a conniving bitch who hates her life and is jealous of her and her boyfriend of 12 years. (Believe me, I am totally jealous of the fact that after 12 years, your boyfriend won't commit to your bitch ass!) She has since written a post on a friends FB wall that claims that (a dig at me) that stay at home moms are in a state of self loathing and secretly hate themselves and their children since they lack normal everyday educated conversation with adults. She claims she's a published writer (under an assumed name of course) and is in medical school. I claim she's just a spiteful cunt who needs her bitch ass put down. Never in my life have I helped someone so much and had them turn on me with false claims of jealously and intentional personal destruction aimed at her. Again, I cannot say enough how much I want her to just get run over by a Mack truck. You would think this thinking is severe and heartless, but this callus thinking has grown over years of being fucked over by my friends. And this person was a bridesmaid in my wedding, had double ZZ titties and refused to wear a bra...and I let it go....cause I'm spiteful and conniving. Had I been wiser I would have said. The only titties I want popping out at my wedding are my own. I now have a nipple shot on my wedding video from her boos flying out of her dress. Which she doesn't know, because I wasn't going to dwell on it.
2002- We let a friend stay with us for minimal rent in a house we just bought. This would allow me to continue college and have a little extra spending money. We gave him his own room, respected his privacy and quite honestly let him do his own thing. He never paid rent, ate all our food and walked away telling everyone how awful we were. It must be awful to pay no bills, eats someone Else's paycheck, pretend to be an adult, and carry-on whichever way you want. Yes, those Browning people are just fucking awful. Awful, awful, awful.
2004- we temporarily moved to Fort Sill, OK, allowing friend to stay in our house for free in return of her watching our dogs while she went to school. We trusted her with the welfare of our puppies and house. She destroyed the house, broke a ton of my shit, stole a huge spaghetti pot I used to have, and when we returned, the dogs had fleas....yuk. She then receded to write me an e-mail stating what I owed her for flea control and housecleaning after the dogs. Priceless.
2005- This year just seemed like a huge goat fuck from the middle to the end. Pete was deployed to Iraq, I was alone with a 2 year old, and decided to buy a bigger House and remodel it top from bottom by myself. In this time, I tried to rent to old house or sell it, whichever came first.....it's still on the market....lucky me. I asked for help from family...shot down. (my mom and dad helped, that's it!) Evidently, everyone else was too busy doing nothing to spend time with their grandson. moving on...........
2006- rented the house for the first time! 3 bed, 2 full bath, basement, fenced in yard....$740. I rented the house to my best friend and her husband. The first rent check bounced. They left out of the blue and the electricity was shut off. We had to pay their bills to re rent the house. A big mess was left behind. I was very hurt. This is also the last time I ever had a best friend. I miss having a best friend, but I don't miss the grief. And for the record, this friend and I just recently reconnected. I will say that her husband was a creepy loser. He never deserved her or her kids and he left them with hardly any notice....deadbeat loser! I am so glad she is moving on with normal people with real ambitions and lives.
2007- we moved to Alaska. We enlisted the help of an aunt who drove from MI to Alaska with us, on our dime of course. The plan was to have her be in Alaska with us and watch Peter while I was in the hospital having Kaidence, since I was 8 months pregnant when we moved there. We spent in total 2800 on separate hotels rooms, food, Ferry tickets, special foods, etc on the trip. She was supposed to stay about 6 weeks, depending on when the baby came. She lasted a week. Said her dad had to have surgery, flew back to MI. She then proceeded to tell people that my husband threatened to shoot her and made fun of her weight. Pete is married to a fat person, why would he make fun of one? She said some awful things. I'm not sure why she felt the need to lie, but being a relative, this hurt us.
2008- Instead of being screwed by people, we lost a vehicle and Pete totalled another one...so it wasn't any easier of a year.
2010- This is the most recent kicker. At the same time that we moved my mom from MI to AK, her 2 dogs and cat....we allowed a couple and their daughter to stay with us a couple weeks while their lease came up and they were closing on a new house. She also watched 4 daycare kids. The 2 weeks turned into 2 months....so for 2 months, we had 3 extra adults, 2 extra dogs, 1 extra cat, and 5 extra kids at the house. It was fucking nuts, but i took it in stride. We never asked for money, until the end, when the electric bill was 600 dollars. In all the time these people were spending money like crazy. The husband camped out on the couch playing video games all day. They used our house, our baby food etc. The wife bought groceries a couple times, but I asked her to stop since there was just too much food in the house. In all, they were stressed because of tight quarters and we were too. She grew increasingly angry with everyone, including the kids. We would wake up at 530am to her yelling at someone. When we asked for money, we got $100. $75 for a table we sold them, and $25 for everything else. I am so glad they contributed the $25 dollars to the household. It helped us so much. NOT
This is just a small fraction of how we've helped and been screwed. I know it isn't christian to dwell on this shit, but oh well people, i got screwed, I'm still pissed about it. Maybe if people knew how to apologize or say thank you, or something. But they don't. The general rule now is "don't help anyone, even our friends!" This is sad, because we love to help and give. It just seems to be ingrained in our nature and it is who we are.
So, in general, we have to change who we are and keep everyone in a "don't trust' status until they can prove otherwise to us. What a cruel way to live life. And we've been shown daily that people cannot change. They can try, but in the end, they are all out for their own personal gain and will steam roll everyone over in order to get to their destination!
The world is cruel, evil, unfair, and unjust. The only way I see to get ahead is act like people who steamroll you, and steam roll them back. As sad realization after 30 years, but a realistic realization, compared to the charitable fog I have existed in :(
and, for those who notice grammatical and typing errors, I'm lucky enough to type uninterrupted (this post took me 3 days), let alone proofread! sorry!
Nov 28, 2010
Nov 26, 2010
where can I check myself into the psych ward?
The past few months since my last post have been somewhat of a whirl wind. I know people keep reminding me that it is time to update the blog, but usually I do my blogging in the evening when the children go to bed. At the state of my life that i have recently met, the only thing i want to do at night is pretend that I am a mentally sane person.
Don't get me wrong, i love my life. It may not be prefect, but it's perfect for me. Peter has been getting into trouble at school. That's one of the biggest changes for the family. The school is increasingly sending home citations for stuff that I think are mainly dumb. For example" "Peter stopped to shake a tree when he was returning to the building after recess.............." Really? Quite frankly, it is a fucking miracle that he stopped for anything. So count your blessing he didn't light the tree on fire...Oh wait, that is Kaidence that likes to play with fire. Moving on........Evidently Peter is great at pissing off the bus driver. On morning the bus driver reportedly told Peter he was going to "cut your tongue out" if he didn't quit being loud. Peter arrived to school scared and moody (words of the principal). The principal asked Peter what was wrong and and Peter told her what the bus driver said and told her he was scared. The principal did not this the claim was substantiated enough to call the parents, but did report it to the bus barn officials. Let me first say, the principal and I do not see eye to eye. She has a soft approach to children, I do not. I am a fir believer in the saying "children should be seen, not heard!" That doesn't mean they can't talk it means they should be noticed for their respectfulness and behavior in public, not their screaming and crying and throwing fits. On with the story....I found this litter bus driver tidbit from the principal the day I requested a meeting with her. Pete and I went to talk to her about some issues with discipline and school we were having. I also caught her in a lie two days before, where she whited out part of a bus citation recopied it, and sent it home. Her explanation of this was to spare me the headache of signing something that had a box checked that peter was annoying. I made it clear that the bus driver is not at liberty to point out a personality flaw on my child, so I wouldn't sign citations that were marked with the "annoying" checked. Well, one came in with that box checked, the principal altered it, and she didn't think I would know.
So, here we sit in the Principal's office, which I hadn't been in years...>although it has been less years since I was in the deans office at college.................:) Any who...........I had to explain to the principal that I wasn't one of those dumb ass parents that don't give a shit and don't know what their doing. I am involved with my kids and their educations, and I would expect to be treated like the intelligent, education, aware parent that I am. Imagine her surprise when I told her I knew she lied to me and altered the bus citation. What a dumb bitch. I wonder how many of the stupid dumb fuck parents she lies to and gets away with. I also made it clear that the next time the bus driver threatens my kid, everyone would be sorry. If you're not clear what this means, let me explain.
first threat to my child is a warning. I bring it to the attention of the proper people, expect it to be reported, and make it damn clear that the next time it happens, momma gets psychotic. By psychotic, I mean: I will threaten the stupid mother fucker at the bus stop, Follow him to his house, knock on the door, and when he answer, I'll beat his face in with a baseball bat. If you think I am kidding watch the news people. I expect my kids to behave, I expect them to follow rules I expect them to be polite, I expect them to be better than anyone Else's kids, and I expect them to be safe to/from/at school. I cannot teach my children that adults are authoritative and in charge when the adults in question behave no better than my child.
And, speaking of threatening, what is with the driver threatening a seat belt for Peter, yet never using it/ If the kids is that fucking bad on the bus, get off your fat stinky lumpy Russian as, and seat belt the damn kid in. How hard is it. Evidently it's easier to bitch, whine, complain, write citations, and waste time in general than it is to actually use a seat belt. what a stupid fucker.
Don't get me wrong, i love my life. It may not be prefect, but it's perfect for me. Peter has been getting into trouble at school. That's one of the biggest changes for the family. The school is increasingly sending home citations for stuff that I think are mainly dumb. For example" "Peter stopped to shake a tree when he was returning to the building after recess.............." Really? Quite frankly, it is a fucking miracle that he stopped for anything. So count your blessing he didn't light the tree on fire...Oh wait, that is Kaidence that likes to play with fire. Moving on........Evidently Peter is great at pissing off the bus driver. On morning the bus driver reportedly told Peter he was going to "cut your tongue out" if he didn't quit being loud. Peter arrived to school scared and moody (words of the principal). The principal asked Peter what was wrong and and Peter told her what the bus driver said and told her he was scared. The principal did not this the claim was substantiated enough to call the parents, but did report it to the bus barn officials. Let me first say, the principal and I do not see eye to eye. She has a soft approach to children, I do not. I am a fir believer in the saying "children should be seen, not heard!" That doesn't mean they can't talk it means they should be noticed for their respectfulness and behavior in public, not their screaming and crying and throwing fits. On with the story....I found this litter bus driver tidbit from the principal the day I requested a meeting with her. Pete and I went to talk to her about some issues with discipline and school we were having. I also caught her in a lie two days before, where she whited out part of a bus citation recopied it, and sent it home. Her explanation of this was to spare me the headache of signing something that had a box checked that peter was annoying. I made it clear that the bus driver is not at liberty to point out a personality flaw on my child, so I wouldn't sign citations that were marked with the "annoying" checked. Well, one came in with that box checked, the principal altered it, and she didn't think I would know.
So, here we sit in the Principal's office, which I hadn't been in years...>although it has been less years since I was in the deans office at college.................:) Any who...........I had to explain to the principal that I wasn't one of those dumb ass parents that don't give a shit and don't know what their doing. I am involved with my kids and their educations, and I would expect to be treated like the intelligent, education, aware parent that I am. Imagine her surprise when I told her I knew she lied to me and altered the bus citation. What a dumb bitch. I wonder how many of the stupid dumb fuck parents she lies to and gets away with. I also made it clear that the next time the bus driver threatens my kid, everyone would be sorry. If you're not clear what this means, let me explain.
first threat to my child is a warning. I bring it to the attention of the proper people, expect it to be reported, and make it damn clear that the next time it happens, momma gets psychotic. By psychotic, I mean: I will threaten the stupid mother fucker at the bus stop, Follow him to his house, knock on the door, and when he answer, I'll beat his face in with a baseball bat. If you think I am kidding watch the news people. I expect my kids to behave, I expect them to follow rules I expect them to be polite, I expect them to be better than anyone Else's kids, and I expect them to be safe to/from/at school. I cannot teach my children that adults are authoritative and in charge when the adults in question behave no better than my child.
And, speaking of threatening, what is with the driver threatening a seat belt for Peter, yet never using it/ If the kids is that fucking bad on the bus, get off your fat stinky lumpy Russian as, and seat belt the damn kid in. How hard is it. Evidently it's easier to bitch, whine, complain, write citations, and waste time in general than it is to actually use a seat belt. what a stupid fucker.
Sep 5, 2010
Kaidence the Kidnapper
I am sure everyone is waiting for the next "Browning" escape. Just recently, Jagoda has begun to harass me about my lack of blog updates. So sorry your highness! :) I the weeks it had been since my last post, I have been so busy I can't think straight. Peter has started first grade and Kaidence has started preschool. I have restarted my At Home America business and Hunter has started crawling and pulling himself up onto furniture. Garage sales have consumed my life as well. I am an avid hater of clutter and am usually prone to throwing everything out instead of donating it or selling it. Not good for charity and not good for the environment. Good think I am a Republican and don't care about the environment or the poor. This month however, has been entirely different.
As we moved into the new house, I found a new joy in enjoying extra space. Let me brag for a slight moment, because I am very proud of the place our family is in life. The new house is years old. The windows in it are huge and numerous, and the light is abundant. We have 2900 square feet, 5 bedrooms (all large), 3 full bathrooms, a huge landing for the kids to play, a huge basement, 2 car heated garage, vaulted ceilings, an actual mudroom and an actual laundry room, 2.5 WOODED acres, cedar siding...I'm spoiled! Except for a smaller kitchen....worth the sacrifice. So, instead of finding all new places where all our stuff can go, due to all the new extra space....I decide we need to get rid of it all! I want empty spaces (which there is plenty) and no clutter (again plenty), so I decide to make a garage sale pile. The pile increased over a matter of hours and we planned two weekends. I think more went to the garage sale than what was unpacked! Yea! And with a garage sale, I like to put rock bottom prices on everything so it sells! This give my mother a heart attack, because she can quite easily become one of those people "hoarder" shows! HaHaHa, sorry mom!
So, two weekends, a garage sale, an extra 500 dollars made, etc...moving one. Previous to the garage sale, I took a day off from unpacking and went to buy school supplies for the kids. While in the store, the kids were not listening, their new hobby, and I was going to drag them by their ears out of the store and shake them! (not really, but that is an accurate description of how I felt at the time!) So, as the naughty children of mine (Peter and Kaidence) were ducking under clothes racks and running around where I couldn't see them, I got fed up and it was time to have a "Meet with Jesus Talk" with my kids, in the privacy of our minivan. I go up to the counter, to checkout, and Kaidence walks up to a baby stroller and takes a hold of it and starts walking away with it. Before this sounds like something innocent, let me advise you of the conditions: Baby in stroller, baby did not belong to us, mom wasn't watching baby, once mom noticed....As mom is paying for her items, her back is turned to the stroller (retarded if you ask me!), AND once she hears me yelling at Kaidence, she becomes alert to the situation and freaks out. She starts waving her hands in the air and screeching. Not screaming, screeching, like an owl. All I can think is "this will end badly for sure!" I run around the crazy lady and stop Kaidence and she make her escape towards the door with stranger baby! I grab her, stop her, berate her, and explain that if babies do not belong to us, we don't touch them or their stuff. The entire store is staring at us, the stranger baby momma is pissed at me, and I am pissed. I dropped my purchase at the counter, let the lady know I didn't want them anymore, and the kids and I went to the car and headed home. If my kids cannot learn not the attempt to kidnap other people's children, then they can't have crayons for school! lol. Another day from hell, yet a great story later on! For this I thank my wild ass children, and their wild ass ideas!
As we moved into the new house, I found a new joy in enjoying extra space. Let me brag for a slight moment, because I am very proud of the place our family is in life. The new house is years old. The windows in it are huge and numerous, and the light is abundant. We have 2900 square feet, 5 bedrooms (all large), 3 full bathrooms, a huge landing for the kids to play, a huge basement, 2 car heated garage, vaulted ceilings, an actual mudroom and an actual laundry room, 2.5 WOODED acres, cedar siding...I'm spoiled! Except for a smaller kitchen....worth the sacrifice. So, instead of finding all new places where all our stuff can go, due to all the new extra space....I decide we need to get rid of it all! I want empty spaces (which there is plenty) and no clutter (again plenty), so I decide to make a garage sale pile. The pile increased over a matter of hours and we planned two weekends. I think more went to the garage sale than what was unpacked! Yea! And with a garage sale, I like to put rock bottom prices on everything so it sells! This give my mother a heart attack, because she can quite easily become one of those people "hoarder" shows! HaHaHa, sorry mom!
So, two weekends, a garage sale, an extra 500 dollars made, etc...moving one. Previous to the garage sale, I took a day off from unpacking and went to buy school supplies for the kids. While in the store, the kids were not listening, their new hobby, and I was going to drag them by their ears out of the store and shake them! (not really, but that is an accurate description of how I felt at the time!) So, as the naughty children of mine (Peter and Kaidence) were ducking under clothes racks and running around where I couldn't see them, I got fed up and it was time to have a "Meet with Jesus Talk" with my kids, in the privacy of our minivan. I go up to the counter, to checkout, and Kaidence walks up to a baby stroller and takes a hold of it and starts walking away with it. Before this sounds like something innocent, let me advise you of the conditions: Baby in stroller, baby did not belong to us, mom wasn't watching baby, once mom noticed....As mom is paying for her items, her back is turned to the stroller (retarded if you ask me!), AND once she hears me yelling at Kaidence, she becomes alert to the situation and freaks out. She starts waving her hands in the air and screeching. Not screaming, screeching, like an owl. All I can think is "this will end badly for sure!" I run around the crazy lady and stop Kaidence and she make her escape towards the door with stranger baby! I grab her, stop her, berate her, and explain that if babies do not belong to us, we don't touch them or their stuff. The entire store is staring at us, the stranger baby momma is pissed at me, and I am pissed. I dropped my purchase at the counter, let the lady know I didn't want them anymore, and the kids and I went to the car and headed home. If my kids cannot learn not the attempt to kidnap other people's children, then they can't have crayons for school! lol. Another day from hell, yet a great story later on! For this I thank my wild ass children, and their wild ass ideas!
Aug 15, 2010
my god, moving is so friggin hard. We've done it enough that by now we should be professionals. The truth is, I am the professional, Pete is the amateur. For months I am getting ready for this move. We found the house in late march. Thought we'd be in it by May, and then proceeded to jump through hoops for a couple more months. I packed methodically. Bubble wrapped, taped, labeled, and stacked the shit out of everything we could live without until the move. Not only did the damn boxes get labeled, but they were even marked which room they went in. No help from Pete, because he had some man excuse as to why he shouldn't be packing his shit too!
So the long awaited moving day came and went, and we hadn't budged from the old house, and I am sure you can imagine that I was slightly irritated. Then, we got the phone call that all was clear, the house was finally move in ready, and we moved a family of 5 in a matter of hours, thanks to our awesome friends.
Whilst moving though, things were tossed, thrown, kicked, slammed, and our shit was everywhere. As I was packing boxes and still trying to be organized, while every man in the universe was against that plan (or at least the men moving us!), I ran out of packing tape. I asked Pete to get me some more, and he just handed me the roll. Well, I had a baby in my arms, was holding a box closed getting ready to tape it, anyone with common sense would know that what I really needed at that precise moment was a piece of tape to finish the box.
Well, I finagled a piece of tape from the roll, and stuck it to my mouth, while I closed the box again. I took (ripped) the piece of tape off my mouth to use it, and the skin on the inside of my lip peeled off with it. It hurt so bad. I could taste the blood on my tongue and it just burned. I slid my tongue over the wound and could feel unprotected layer of skin.
Now, I don't know about you, but I personally don't know of anyone that is stupid enough to let tape rest on the inside of their mouth, sticky side down. I didn't admit what happened to Pete for a couple days, and when I did, he laughed. When I showed him the inside of my mouth torn and bloody, he laughed. When I wanted sympathy for the pain, he looked at me like I was crazy, and he laughed. Keep in mind my dear husband, when you have to get that vasectomy, once we're done having kids....I'll laugh! When you wince in pain, I'll laugh. When you have an ice pack on your balls, I'll laugh. And when you have to walk bow legged to ease the pain, I'll laugh! hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
Sorry, I'm just too tired to proof read this:)
So the long awaited moving day came and went, and we hadn't budged from the old house, and I am sure you can imagine that I was slightly irritated. Then, we got the phone call that all was clear, the house was finally move in ready, and we moved a family of 5 in a matter of hours, thanks to our awesome friends.
Whilst moving though, things were tossed, thrown, kicked, slammed, and our shit was everywhere. As I was packing boxes and still trying to be organized, while every man in the universe was against that plan (or at least the men moving us!), I ran out of packing tape. I asked Pete to get me some more, and he just handed me the roll. Well, I had a baby in my arms, was holding a box closed getting ready to tape it, anyone with common sense would know that what I really needed at that precise moment was a piece of tape to finish the box.
Well, I finagled a piece of tape from the roll, and stuck it to my mouth, while I closed the box again. I took (ripped) the piece of tape off my mouth to use it, and the skin on the inside of my lip peeled off with it. It hurt so bad. I could taste the blood on my tongue and it just burned. I slid my tongue over the wound and could feel unprotected layer of skin.
Now, I don't know about you, but I personally don't know of anyone that is stupid enough to let tape rest on the inside of their mouth, sticky side down. I didn't admit what happened to Pete for a couple days, and when I did, he laughed. When I showed him the inside of my mouth torn and bloody, he laughed. When I wanted sympathy for the pain, he looked at me like I was crazy, and he laughed. Keep in mind my dear husband, when you have to get that vasectomy, once we're done having kids....I'll laugh! When you wince in pain, I'll laugh. When you have an ice pack on your balls, I'll laugh. And when you have to walk bow legged to ease the pain, I'll laugh! hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
Sorry, I'm just too tired to proof read this:)
Aug 1, 2010
Red Light Special
OK people. For those of us married or in some type of monogamous relationship, we all know there can be sexual dry spells. I won't lie, we were in one. Keep in mind we have an almost 7 year old, a 3 year old, and a 7 month old. Of these three wonderful, beautiful, and crazy children, 2 sleep in our bed. It is ridiculous. I don't know how it happened, but we both hate it. I think we're just too tired to remedy it. I barely sleep as it is, and Pete has a brutal schedule at work. So overall, we're tired, we got kids in bed, we don't see each other a lot, and throw in their pizza nights, Mexican nights, dinner parties, sports, dance, Dr appts, grocery shopping, cleaning, cooking, laundry, play dates, social events.........sex has been put on the back burner.
Recently we've moved, and it was something we knew was going to happen, but it happened faster than we imagined, and before we knew it was moving day and there were 3 kids and boxes to balance. Our awesome friend Erin and her equally awesome mom Vickie, offered to watch the kids so we could get some things moved to the new house. We gladly took them up on the offer and took the kids to Erin's hosue.
We packed and moved and loaded up trailers. We had 2 strong burly men helping us and we worked steadily for 3 hours. Without kids, the 3 hours was a lot! The big burly men left and Pete and I finished up a few last minute details before he had to get ready for work. We started to head our separate ways, him to work and me to Erin's house for the kids.
As we headed down the stairs on our departures, I had a brilliant idea to have sex, make love, do the horizontal tango, whatever you call it. Since there were no kids, we figured it was a perfect opportunity to reconnect (quickly might I add) and have a little fun without interruptions. The thought of making love to my husband without kids in the house was just what the Love DR ordered. So we race downstairs, rip off our clothes, fall into bed, and start the process. No sooner than we both are hot and bothered, I noticed that Mater, our cat, is sitting on the bed staring at us. Our last cat was blind, so this was a little unnerving and we lost slight momentum. Then, Pete looks up and standing in the window in our bedroom with his nosed pressed into the screen was a high strung Dalmatian wanting some attention too.
So, after all the hub bub and excitement of hot, racy, uninterrupted humping, we ended up with a fucking audience anyways. I have learned a valuable lesson about keeping passion in marriage alive...do it wherever you can, as often as you can, and sometimes as fast as you can! You never know when you'll have an empty house and some alone time, and NEW RULE: Pet's don't count!
Maybe next blog I can think of a great explanation how I ripped off the inside of my lip with packing tape!
Recently we've moved, and it was something we knew was going to happen, but it happened faster than we imagined, and before we knew it was moving day and there were 3 kids and boxes to balance. Our awesome friend Erin and her equally awesome mom Vickie, offered to watch the kids so we could get some things moved to the new house. We gladly took them up on the offer and took the kids to Erin's hosue.
We packed and moved and loaded up trailers. We had 2 strong burly men helping us and we worked steadily for 3 hours. Without kids, the 3 hours was a lot! The big burly men left and Pete and I finished up a few last minute details before he had to get ready for work. We started to head our separate ways, him to work and me to Erin's house for the kids.
As we headed down the stairs on our departures, I had a brilliant idea to have sex, make love, do the horizontal tango, whatever you call it. Since there were no kids, we figured it was a perfect opportunity to reconnect (quickly might I add) and have a little fun without interruptions. The thought of making love to my husband without kids in the house was just what the Love DR ordered. So we race downstairs, rip off our clothes, fall into bed, and start the process. No sooner than we both are hot and bothered, I noticed that Mater, our cat, is sitting on the bed staring at us. Our last cat was blind, so this was a little unnerving and we lost slight momentum. Then, Pete looks up and standing in the window in our bedroom with his nosed pressed into the screen was a high strung Dalmatian wanting some attention too.
So, after all the hub bub and excitement of hot, racy, uninterrupted humping, we ended up with a fucking audience anyways. I have learned a valuable lesson about keeping passion in marriage alive...do it wherever you can, as often as you can, and sometimes as fast as you can! You never know when you'll have an empty house and some alone time, and NEW RULE: Pet's don't count!
Maybe next blog I can think of a great explanation how I ripped off the inside of my lip with packing tape!
Jul 28, 2010
Plucking the grays will only get me so far with these three
Well, we've had another whopper of a week. We're trying to move into a new house, we keep getting pushed back, and I've finally decided that if we don't have our questions answered and a key by Friday, I am just busting a lock and moving in. That's just the bitch of the situation. Anyways, On to the stories so far this week!
Hunter is learning to crawl, which means I am screwed. Three mobile Browning children is not what the Doctor (psychiatrist) ordered. That mean instead of have 2 wild ones, and one sweet one, I'll have three gaining up on me. All I have to say (and my mother may disagree) Thank God I was a bad kid and teenager, cause I am well prepared for the shit these kids are going to try to pull. Chances are I've been there, done that...And I'll be one step ahead. That's right you three, when you think you're sneaking out to a party and mom doesn't know, guess who'll show up in blue eyeshadow, bright red lipstick, and a bathrobe with a beer can and a cigarette....MOMMY! Hell, I'll probably beat them to the party.
Hunter also got in a tooth. He bit my tit while breastfeeding. It hurt so fucking bad, it was all I could do to not automatically drop him off my lap. I jumped so high, it was a good thing I held him, cause I almost forgot.
And, he found his Penis in the tub! Ain't that a lucky thing to find. He likes to tug it, pull it, and then give himself a baby hard on....this is about the point where I ask Dad to take over, because no matter how young they are or how many boys I've had, that whole hard on thing just doesn't sit right with me.
Kaidence is still the boss. I plan to break her spirit within the next couple years, but we may wear each other down. Lately she's been in a hurry for everything. Including the bathroom. She'll go pee, say she wiped when she didn't, and then run outside. I finally had to pull her aside and tell her if she doesn't wipe good, she'll get an infection. Well, since neither kid really knows what an infection in....that wasn't real helpful. So, the light bulb came on and I finally told Kaidence "You either wipe good or your vagina will rot off." Maybe not the best choice of words, but it definitely hit home with her, cause she started doing things correctly when she went to the bathroom. Well, the whole lesson backfired when we went to post. She went to the bathroom, and I was standing outside waiting for her. She came out the door, pants around her ankles, and said "Mommy I wiped good, and look" pointing to her privates "my gina didn't fall off." While I'm used to my kids saying the damnedest things in public, this threw me for a loop and I about died. I rushed her back to the bathroom, got her pants on, washed her hand, and came out. I was so surprised that they didn't have a ceremony and the Mother Of The Year award waiting for me when I returned.
And then there's Peter. The little boy who stole my heart, wrecked my nerves, and made me immune to anxiety of child mishaps. We have a 2 story deck. A steep staircase into the yard from the deck, and he used his black racing sled to take a trip down them in the middle of summer. Super smart idea...NOT! I heard him go down and then the screaming. He fell off on one of the bottom stairs and said he couldn't walk. I rush down there, which I usually don't do, because they over exaggerate their injuries quite frequently, and bent down to see the damage. He has a huge bruise on his right side of his stomach. It's swollen and disgusting. I search for broken bone, protruding parts, and find nothing. I carry him upstairs and put a bag of frozen raviolis on it to reduce the swelling. The next thing you know, he can walk just fine into the kitchen for ice cream. It's a miracle he is healed, and I was duped!
Gotta love these kids of mine, and I feel sorry for everyone that doesn't have them in their life like Pete and I do...And in case you don't know who those people are....they're the ones without GRAY HAIR!
Hunter is learning to crawl, which means I am screwed. Three mobile Browning children is not what the Doctor (psychiatrist) ordered. That mean instead of have 2 wild ones, and one sweet one, I'll have three gaining up on me. All I have to say (and my mother may disagree) Thank God I was a bad kid and teenager, cause I am well prepared for the shit these kids are going to try to pull. Chances are I've been there, done that...And I'll be one step ahead. That's right you three, when you think you're sneaking out to a party and mom doesn't know, guess who'll show up in blue eyeshadow, bright red lipstick, and a bathrobe with a beer can and a cigarette....MOMMY! Hell, I'll probably beat them to the party.
Hunter also got in a tooth. He bit my tit while breastfeeding. It hurt so fucking bad, it was all I could do to not automatically drop him off my lap. I jumped so high, it was a good thing I held him, cause I almost forgot.
And, he found his Penis in the tub! Ain't that a lucky thing to find. He likes to tug it, pull it, and then give himself a baby hard on....this is about the point where I ask Dad to take over, because no matter how young they are or how many boys I've had, that whole hard on thing just doesn't sit right with me.
Kaidence is still the boss. I plan to break her spirit within the next couple years, but we may wear each other down. Lately she's been in a hurry for everything. Including the bathroom. She'll go pee, say she wiped when she didn't, and then run outside. I finally had to pull her aside and tell her if she doesn't wipe good, she'll get an infection. Well, since neither kid really knows what an infection in....that wasn't real helpful. So, the light bulb came on and I finally told Kaidence "You either wipe good or your vagina will rot off." Maybe not the best choice of words, but it definitely hit home with her, cause she started doing things correctly when she went to the bathroom. Well, the whole lesson backfired when we went to post. She went to the bathroom, and I was standing outside waiting for her. She came out the door, pants around her ankles, and said "Mommy I wiped good, and look" pointing to her privates "my gina didn't fall off." While I'm used to my kids saying the damnedest things in public, this threw me for a loop and I about died. I rushed her back to the bathroom, got her pants on, washed her hand, and came out. I was so surprised that they didn't have a ceremony and the Mother Of The Year award waiting for me when I returned.
And then there's Peter. The little boy who stole my heart, wrecked my nerves, and made me immune to anxiety of child mishaps. We have a 2 story deck. A steep staircase into the yard from the deck, and he used his black racing sled to take a trip down them in the middle of summer. Super smart idea...NOT! I heard him go down and then the screaming. He fell off on one of the bottom stairs and said he couldn't walk. I rush down there, which I usually don't do, because they over exaggerate their injuries quite frequently, and bent down to see the damage. He has a huge bruise on his right side of his stomach. It's swollen and disgusting. I search for broken bone, protruding parts, and find nothing. I carry him upstairs and put a bag of frozen raviolis on it to reduce the swelling. The next thing you know, he can walk just fine into the kitchen for ice cream. It's a miracle he is healed, and I was duped!
Gotta love these kids of mine, and I feel sorry for everyone that doesn't have them in their life like Pete and I do...And in case you don't know who those people are....they're the ones without GRAY HAIR!
Jul 26, 2010
Lesson Learned, so there, bitch!
I have recently learned a number of interesting facts about my kids and family. I've learned that Peter loves Clean House, the TV show. He thinks it's great that other people go into messy houses and clean them. I'm not sure if it's his favorite show because he likes a clean house, or because he believes we need Clean House to come rescue us. Any given day is a toss up!
I have learned that my daughter is indeed a psycho! I mean this in the most loving way possible. Our regular daily conversations are as follows:
Me: Kaidence go pick up all those outfits you tried on.
Kaidence: I don't want to
Me: I don't care
Kaidence: (a pile on the floor crying!) I don't want to, I can't do it.
Me: If you can dress a million times, you can put away at least once
Kaidence: I can't mommy, wah wah wah, *Then she throws something
Me: Now you have two things to do. Pick up your clothes and then pick up what you threw.
Kaidence: Screaming Sobbing, hysterical fit........"HI KITTY!" (as sweet as ever)
Me: Oh, you're better now?
Kaidence: (back to crying and throwing a fit)
Lather, rinse, and repeat. The whole thing just repeats itself, and we go in circles. And by god, I will go for house, till it is my way. Cause after all sister, it's my way or the highway, and no matter how long the highway is....it"s gotta end eventually!
Keep on Trucking moms, cause one day you'll be right!
The last thing that I learned is about Pete! I have now learned that he uses me to do his dirty work. Not because he's incapable, but because he likes to come out smelling like roses. The man secretly enjoys having the wife that is psychotic (like her wonderful daughter), so people feel sorry for him. I will assume that if it looks like I do whatever I want despite his best efforts, then whatever I do can't possible reflect on him, since he obviously has no control. Now, for those of you who may believe that bullshit, stop right there. Most of my crusades and outburst comes from some little tidbit that my husband feeds me. He tells me about work, the injustices, etc, and then magically he gives me who, what, when, and why of the situation, and I just fucking run with it. Poor defenseless Pete and his wife that is out of control. Again, Bullshit. That man has opinions coming out his ass, but in order to appear neutral, he poisons me with his ideas and opinions. How awful! To think, if he didn't do this, I would be the quiet complacent wife that other men dream of. Yeah fucking right! And to be honest, I secretly enjoy being his little pawn, because in my little psychotic head, I can tell myself that it isn't me that's crazy, it's him! Hell, let's face it, we're both nuts! Two crazies don't make a sane, but they sure have a lot of motherfucking fun!
(pardon my errors in all blogs, I sit in the dark in bed doing this, and I semi-suck at it!
I have learned that my daughter is indeed a psycho! I mean this in the most loving way possible. Our regular daily conversations are as follows:
Me: Kaidence go pick up all those outfits you tried on.
Kaidence: I don't want to
Me: I don't care
Kaidence: (a pile on the floor crying!) I don't want to, I can't do it.
Me: If you can dress a million times, you can put away at least once
Kaidence: I can't mommy, wah wah wah, *Then she throws something
Me: Now you have two things to do. Pick up your clothes and then pick up what you threw.
Kaidence: Screaming Sobbing, hysterical fit........"HI KITTY!" (as sweet as ever)
Me: Oh, you're better now?
Kaidence: (back to crying and throwing a fit)
Lather, rinse, and repeat. The whole thing just repeats itself, and we go in circles. And by god, I will go for house, till it is my way. Cause after all sister, it's my way or the highway, and no matter how long the highway is....it"s gotta end eventually!
Keep on Trucking moms, cause one day you'll be right!
The last thing that I learned is about Pete! I have now learned that he uses me to do his dirty work. Not because he's incapable, but because he likes to come out smelling like roses. The man secretly enjoys having the wife that is psychotic (like her wonderful daughter), so people feel sorry for him. I will assume that if it looks like I do whatever I want despite his best efforts, then whatever I do can't possible reflect on him, since he obviously has no control. Now, for those of you who may believe that bullshit, stop right there. Most of my crusades and outburst comes from some little tidbit that my husband feeds me. He tells me about work, the injustices, etc, and then magically he gives me who, what, when, and why of the situation, and I just fucking run with it. Poor defenseless Pete and his wife that is out of control. Again, Bullshit. That man has opinions coming out his ass, but in order to appear neutral, he poisons me with his ideas and opinions. How awful! To think, if he didn't do this, I would be the quiet complacent wife that other men dream of. Yeah fucking right! And to be honest, I secretly enjoy being his little pawn, because in my little psychotic head, I can tell myself that it isn't me that's crazy, it's him! Hell, let's face it, we're both nuts! Two crazies don't make a sane, but they sure have a lot of motherfucking fun!
(pardon my errors in all blogs, I sit in the dark in bed doing this, and I semi-suck at it!
Jul 21, 2010
They're stain free, but they sure aren't clean
I am a "laundry-Nazi," I admit it. I want my kids clothes to be stain free every time they wear them. When the clothes (Gymboree only of course) have a stain, no matter how big or small, light or dark, they are retired. They jump from closet status to drawer status, or clothing hell, and they are used strictly for play clothes, never to be worn in public again! Every day I do laundry, and it's the same routine: separate lights, colors, whites, and stains. I then sit on the floor, scrub stains out with a toothbrush and Clorox 2, and separate the stains into my lights, darks, and whites piles. I then put my a selected load into the washer, add Tide and a cupful of Clorox 2(yes, more!) and wash. I am also a laundry fairy, cause I get almost every stain out....As boring as this ritual is, I needed to explain this portion of my day to tell what is next.
I do this routine everyday, I have been married for over 8 years.......And because my husband doesn't do the laundry, because I am afraid he'll fuck it up....he may not have been paying close attention for the last 8 years, it is after all, a short period of time. So....when he returned back from his 2 week absence yesterday, he brought me flowers (beautiful might I add) and had another "surprise" in his suitcase. He promptly pulls out a huge jug of Clorox 2 from his suitcase, with a huge grin on his face, and because I am the Laundry Nazi, I was excited that he brought home such a large jug! (We don't have that size available to us in AK). After my initial excitement of my Clorox 2, I asked him what laundry detergent he used with it. (Yes it matters to me :) What comes next just made my day:
Pete: Isn't that laundry detergent [Clorox 2]
Me: Ummmm....no (laughing)
Pete: Well, what the fuck is it?
me: it's just a laundry booster and stain fighter
Pete: Oh well, that's what I used the whole time....
Me: That's hilarious, you are supposed to use it with detergent.
Pete: Well, whatever, they got clean....
Me: I bet they did (sarcasm)
Pete: Well, Mike used it too, and he didn't know either, so there!
Well played Mr. Browning, you just proved you are a dip shit and so are your friends! Lol, and honey, thank you for the beautiful flowers;)
I do this routine everyday, I have been married for over 8 years.......And because my husband doesn't do the laundry, because I am afraid he'll fuck it up....he may not have been paying close attention for the last 8 years, it is after all, a short period of time. So....when he returned back from his 2 week absence yesterday, he brought me flowers (beautiful might I add) and had another "surprise" in his suitcase. He promptly pulls out a huge jug of Clorox 2 from his suitcase, with a huge grin on his face, and because I am the Laundry Nazi, I was excited that he brought home such a large jug! (We don't have that size available to us in AK). After my initial excitement of my Clorox 2, I asked him what laundry detergent he used with it. (Yes it matters to me :) What comes next just made my day:
Pete: Isn't that laundry detergent [Clorox 2]
Me: Ummmm....no (laughing)
Pete: Well, what the fuck is it?
me: it's just a laundry booster and stain fighter
Pete: Oh well, that's what I used the whole time....
Me: That's hilarious, you are supposed to use it with detergent.
Pete: Well, whatever, they got clean....
Me: I bet they did (sarcasm)
Pete: Well, Mike used it too, and he didn't know either, so there!
Well played Mr. Browning, you just proved you are a dip shit and so are your friends! Lol, and honey, thank you for the beautiful flowers;)
Jul 16, 2010
The Desperate for Sanity Housewife
Well, once again, the adventures of the Browning family come through in a big big way! I wanted to leave for Fairbanks at 10AM. I woke up at 9:40am, but was going to still make it out the door…..WRONG! Kaidence decided to throw a fit! What about you ask? She wanted to wear her new Tutu to Fairbanks. Fine, I’ll bite, but a pink Tutu with lime green underwear...not so much sister. We fought about bloomers or tights for an half an hour. Then she settles on tights….Fine, except for she wanted a shirt and just tights. WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO THE TUTU? Well, she wasn’t wearing it now, just the tights. Wrong again princess! So after another half an hour, a few swats on her ass, and a hissy fit that Guiness Book couldn’t beat…Tutu and tights adorned my little Diva. An hour later than expected I was on the road. I forgot cereal for the kids to eat in the car, so I stopped and grabbed a bag of yucky ass Fruit Loops from a friend’s pantry on the way to town. (I never let my kids eat shit like this, so they were thrilled.)
Half way into the trip, Kaidence says she has to puke! AWESOME! So, I wretch the car to the side of the road and run around to the side she’s on and tried to open the door. The Mother Fucking door is locked, because it automatically locks at 25 miles an hour, but wouldn’t you know, the bastard doesn’t unlock automatically EVER! So, it’s locked, and I see Kaidence start to gag. So, on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, I start pounding on the window telling Peter to unbuckle and unlocked the door! It all happened in slow motion, I heard it before I saw it…The spastic thrashing and then the puke…FLYING! Holy Shit, I didn’t make it on time. It was everywhere! So, I start stripping her down in the car, tossing her dirty clothes on the side of the road, searching for something to wear. She ended up wearing a shirt and the god damned tights. Looks like she won after all.
Progressing into the day, I went straight to the consignment shop once I got into town in search of a nursing cover (that Kaidence plastered in puke in the car), clothes for Kaidence, and a new baby sling. It took 30 minutes to figure out the fancy slings, and most wouldn’t even buckle correctly over my HUGE FAT ASS! While I was determining what sling I wanted, Peter, who I told to not touch anything, decided to hand and swing from the handle of the cart, tipped the cart, and the car seat in the cart, and the baby in the car seat. Of course, Hunter wasn’t buckled in, because I was putting him in and out of the slings that did fit around my fat ass. As the cart tipped, I pivoted on my right foot, dove to the ground, and barely, just barely caught the baby, while the cart came crashing onto my head. I was going to flip, but considering the store had cameras, I decided to make a less obvious approached, so I just flicked him (Peter) hard in the forehead and told him I wasn’t done. I then grabbed both kids, bend down to their levels and whispered anything but sweet nothing into their ears. Basically I threatened them…they had better behave.
Moving on: Leaving the store, Kaidence and Peter decided to run ahead of me and out the doors towards the parking lot. I was running after them and told them to stop, neither one listened to me. So, I told them to come to the car for their spanking. At this time, a kid comes over and is trying to solicit money from some sun catchers made of seashells yada yada….So I asked him to hold on for a minute because I had to spanks my kids. I got Kaidence into the car, spanked her ass on the way in, and had to chase Peter for his. Then he hops in the car all pissed and crying, and trust me, the spanking could have been way better. I promptly turn to the kid selling his whatshamajigers, and said “And now, If you’d like to call the police on me for beating my kids, please do, I’ll wait, I needed a break real bad anyways!” My friend who met me at the store laughed, her mom busted a gut, and the kid stood dumb founded.
And then….I went to McDonalds for the dirty ass germ infested play land. My friend is going to stay with them while I run my errands real quick. We get in, order their food, I threaten them if they take off their shoes, and I’m off. Went to Lowe’s got my totes for the rest of my packing and moving. Ran to Wal-Mart to finish my list of shit I needed to get. As I am rushing to the checkout lane, I noticed someone coming up fast in the next aisle, so I stopped my cart to let them through. They just stood there. So, I just stood there. I mean, if someone is going to let you go, go you Jack-ass. Well, after finally looking to confront the person, I realized the Jack-ass was my reflection in the mirror. True story I swear. SO as I check out, I get a call. A lady in Lowe’s parking lot ran over my check book and picked it up. So, I ran back to Lowes, got my check book, and back to the McDonalds play land.
Once I am there….my friend informs me that Kaidence is on the top layer of this massive play structure, crying and won’t come down. And since she is 9 months pregnant, she is unable to perform the search and rescue mission. So, the fat ass that was too fat for a majority of baby slings, had to maneuver to the top of the play structure, with a finale of climbing up a slide to retrieve the DIVA. Again, Kaidence won!
To wrap it up, I was 2 hours late to a BDAY party, and I totally forgot to get something to eat all day. So, when I finally did get home, I look at the fridge like a rabid dog looks at his next victims.
For the record – my children are not allowed to act the way they did today, and it royally pissed me off, but they are kids and they aren’t good every single day, but I can only hope. And, if you don’t spank your child, and disagree with my methods….read my very first blog. ENJOY!
Half way into the trip, Kaidence says she has to puke! AWESOME! So, I wretch the car to the side of the road and run around to the side she’s on and tried to open the door. The Mother Fucking door is locked, because it automatically locks at 25 miles an hour, but wouldn’t you know, the bastard doesn’t unlock automatically EVER! So, it’s locked, and I see Kaidence start to gag. So, on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, I start pounding on the window telling Peter to unbuckle and unlocked the door! It all happened in slow motion, I heard it before I saw it…The spastic thrashing and then the puke…FLYING! Holy Shit, I didn’t make it on time. It was everywhere! So, I start stripping her down in the car, tossing her dirty clothes on the side of the road, searching for something to wear. She ended up wearing a shirt and the god damned tights. Looks like she won after all.
Progressing into the day, I went straight to the consignment shop once I got into town in search of a nursing cover (that Kaidence plastered in puke in the car), clothes for Kaidence, and a new baby sling. It took 30 minutes to figure out the fancy slings, and most wouldn’t even buckle correctly over my HUGE FAT ASS! While I was determining what sling I wanted, Peter, who I told to not touch anything, decided to hand and swing from the handle of the cart, tipped the cart, and the car seat in the cart, and the baby in the car seat. Of course, Hunter wasn’t buckled in, because I was putting him in and out of the slings that did fit around my fat ass. As the cart tipped, I pivoted on my right foot, dove to the ground, and barely, just barely caught the baby, while the cart came crashing onto my head. I was going to flip, but considering the store had cameras, I decided to make a less obvious approached, so I just flicked him (Peter) hard in the forehead and told him I wasn’t done. I then grabbed both kids, bend down to their levels and whispered anything but sweet nothing into their ears. Basically I threatened them…they had better behave.
Moving on: Leaving the store, Kaidence and Peter decided to run ahead of me and out the doors towards the parking lot. I was running after them and told them to stop, neither one listened to me. So, I told them to come to the car for their spanking. At this time, a kid comes over and is trying to solicit money from some sun catchers made of seashells yada yada….So I asked him to hold on for a minute because I had to spanks my kids. I got Kaidence into the car, spanked her ass on the way in, and had to chase Peter for his. Then he hops in the car all pissed and crying, and trust me, the spanking could have been way better. I promptly turn to the kid selling his whatshamajigers, and said “And now, If you’d like to call the police on me for beating my kids, please do, I’ll wait, I needed a break real bad anyways!” My friend who met me at the store laughed, her mom busted a gut, and the kid stood dumb founded.
And then….I went to McDonalds for the dirty ass germ infested play land. My friend is going to stay with them while I run my errands real quick. We get in, order their food, I threaten them if they take off their shoes, and I’m off. Went to Lowe’s got my totes for the rest of my packing and moving. Ran to Wal-Mart to finish my list of shit I needed to get. As I am rushing to the checkout lane, I noticed someone coming up fast in the next aisle, so I stopped my cart to let them through. They just stood there. So, I just stood there. I mean, if someone is going to let you go, go you Jack-ass. Well, after finally looking to confront the person, I realized the Jack-ass was my reflection in the mirror. True story I swear. SO as I check out, I get a call. A lady in Lowe’s parking lot ran over my check book and picked it up. So, I ran back to Lowes, got my check book, and back to the McDonalds play land.
Once I am there….my friend informs me that Kaidence is on the top layer of this massive play structure, crying and won’t come down. And since she is 9 months pregnant, she is unable to perform the search and rescue mission. So, the fat ass that was too fat for a majority of baby slings, had to maneuver to the top of the play structure, with a finale of climbing up a slide to retrieve the DIVA. Again, Kaidence won!
To wrap it up, I was 2 hours late to a BDAY party, and I totally forgot to get something to eat all day. So, when I finally did get home, I look at the fridge like a rabid dog looks at his next victims.
For the record – my children are not allowed to act the way they did today, and it royally pissed me off, but they are kids and they aren’t good every single day, but I can only hope. And, if you don’t spank your child, and disagree with my methods….read my very first blog. ENJOY!
Jul 15, 2010
These are the days of my life (And yours, but you won't admit it!)
Last 2 days have been trying, yet somehow I am laughing hysterically in my head! Yesterday, our friends dog got out of our fence, and I had to chase him down. I don't think chase is even the word to describe it. The dog is like a god damned Gazelle and runs faster than any dogs I know. That being said, I came inside to feed the baby, and while I am feeding him, Kaidence is climbing on the counter top space in the little office area we have. Then pissed and moaned that she was stuck. I told her to wait for me to finish feeding the baby and she disagreed with my proposal. She then said " I have to pee" and she did...right on my sewing machine! FML. So after chasing and peeing and cleaning up the pee to save a sewing machine....I went to bed. Today was pretty calm, minus a conversation I had with Peter. He was wanted to know why I had a food from the freezer cooked in the microwave...no my kids don't know what frozen dinners are! Anyhow, I told him I need to lose weight because I am sick of being fat and ugly, I want to be skinny and pretty! His reply:
"Mom, I want you to be like Erin (my very very very skinny friend, who is also pregnant
Hoping he meant he wanted me to be pregnant like Erin, I asked what he meant.
"I want you to be skinny and pretty like her." FML.
I mean, I lie to my kids all day long, can't I have the same courtesy?
"Mom, I want you to be like Erin (my very very very skinny friend, who is also pregnant
Hoping he meant he wanted me to be pregnant like Erin, I asked what he meant.
"I want you to be skinny and pretty like her." FML.
I mean, I lie to my kids all day long, can't I have the same courtesy?
Jul 14, 2010
The hunt for Red October.....
Remember how I said this was real world shit....well this is a time when real is as real as it gets.
Pete and I honeymooned for 2 weeks in Fiji. Best time of my life...well almost. During our stay, we did a 5 days cruise to several different islands. We drank a lot, ate and lot, and loved a lot. Yes, I do have feelings. Well wait, let's rewind. The 20 hour plane was exhausting, and i messed up my birth control..So I started my period on my honeymoon..fast forward.....
One night on the cruise, Pete and I drank a ton during canapes. We immediately went to our room and became amorous. I was so drunk I was sleepy so I faked it so I could go to bed. In the middle of the ooo ooo ah ah....yadayada, I throw Pete off me and scream...."I forgot to take my tampon out!" It was in there deep. I was hysterical, crying, and flailing (quite possibly a reaction brought on by alcohol).
After calming me down, Pete was brave enough to "fish" out the tampon. It took a while and at one point he asked if I was sure it was left in. Now if that ain't love.....
Pete and I honeymooned for 2 weeks in Fiji. Best time of my life...well almost. During our stay, we did a 5 days cruise to several different islands. We drank a lot, ate and lot, and loved a lot. Yes, I do have feelings. Well wait, let's rewind. The 20 hour plane was exhausting, and i messed up my birth control..So I started my period on my honeymoon..fast forward.....
One night on the cruise, Pete and I drank a ton during canapes. We immediately went to our room and became amorous. I was so drunk I was sleepy so I faked it so I could go to bed. In the middle of the ooo ooo ah ah....yadayada, I throw Pete off me and scream...."I forgot to take my tampon out!" It was in there deep. I was hysterical, crying, and flailing (quite possibly a reaction brought on by alcohol).
After calming me down, Pete was brave enough to "fish" out the tampon. It took a while and at one point he asked if I was sure it was left in. Now if that ain't love.....
Jul 13, 2010
What next?
So, what do we want next, your choice of stories below!!!
The story of the lost tampon
The story of the bird execution
or
maybe a birth story.
Maybe you want to know something about me, but never asked.
An opinion maybe, let me know people
The story of the lost tampon
The story of the bird execution
or
maybe a birth story.
Maybe you want to know something about me, but never asked.
An opinion maybe, let me know people
he can mutilate insects, but he can't be in a car alone......
While I love my children unconditionally and never want harm to come to them, I do find their reactions to life and calamity quite hilarious. A lot of parents react hastily or freak out when disaster strikes. Well, I’ve been through hospitalizations for fluid on the lungs and seizures, as well as ER visits for 3 sets of staples and 3 sets of stitches! This was all Peter! HAHAHA. Now you know why nothing surprises me these days. God gave me Peter first to give me patience and calmness with the rest of my children. And, it was a great plan!
So, once upon a time, I invited a girlfriend over to drink some wine. Nothing to do, nothing to plan, just drink and drink some more. Awesome plan, right? Her DD, her husband, dropped her off and said he’d be back in a few hours. Peter insisted on going back to their house to play with their son. So we swapped…drinking wife for wild child! Good for me, bad for him! When he came back to retrieve wife and return child, there were other plans. Peter was now spending the night, and he was being brought home to pack an overnight bag!
Her husband walks into the house, and sits down to BS a little. In my head I wondered where Peter was, but just assumed he went straight to his room to pack his bag. He was taking so long, I decided to go and help him pack his bag. As I walked downstairs, I noticed the door was open to the outside, so I closed it. I didn’t see Peter downstairs, I figured he got side tracked and was out chasing butterflies or mutilating grasshoppers (which I had to remind him today to leave insects intact!). So, I packed his bag and headed back upstairs to sit and converse….and drink of course.
Not 2 minutes later, the door to the outside opens and you hear;
Peter: (sob, breath, sob, breath, slight hysterics) some, some, someone, lef lef left me in the the the c-c-c-car. And, and, and (breath sob) I could could couldn’t get out (breath sob breath sob)
And, as Peter rounds the corner on the stairs, you see blood all over his face. The kid has a bloody nose.
Me: Peter, calm down. Now, what happened?
Peter: (sob sob sob) HE…(friends husband)(and very accusingly might I add) left me (sob sob sob) in the car. I tried to get out (sob sob breath breath sob) and I couldn’t figure it out.
In Peter’s defense, I had to have help to get out of their new car once too…hey, it was tricky!
Friend’s husband: OMG, I’m sorry buddy, I thought you got out and were right behind me (hence the still opened door)
Peter: I wasn’t. I don’t want to go to his house right now.
Me: (very hesitantly) Peter, did your nose start bleeding in the car
Peter: yes
Me: Did you get blood in their BRAND new car
Peter: Yes
Me: Well Peter, why did you get so freaked out about being in a car in your own driveway?
Peter: (a little whimpering and whining) I don’t know
Me: Well, you need to quit crying.
Peter: OK
So, the couple gets ready to leave. Peter decides that he is less traumatized than he thought and he would go home with them. I say my good-byes, and make the hasty decision to go out to the driveway to have a look at the blood in the car. Well, needless to say, yes, the kid got blood on their car…..
There was blood in the back, on the center console, on the dashboard, on the stereo cover, the side of both driver and passenger seat fabrics, and my absolute favorite….streaked down the passenger window, like an episode of psycho. This is where I just started to laugh. It was truly a traumatic experience for him, but for god sakes, it wasn’t so bad that he had to be hysterical and get a nose bleed over it. Poor guy…now that he can read, I have shown him where owner’s manuals are in case he gets stuck again….Just read that, sound out the words, and you’ll be just fine little buddy….and while you’re reading, let mommy know how to turn the windshield wipers on the Subaru ON.
So, once upon a time, I invited a girlfriend over to drink some wine. Nothing to do, nothing to plan, just drink and drink some more. Awesome plan, right? Her DD, her husband, dropped her off and said he’d be back in a few hours. Peter insisted on going back to their house to play with their son. So we swapped…drinking wife for wild child! Good for me, bad for him! When he came back to retrieve wife and return child, there were other plans. Peter was now spending the night, and he was being brought home to pack an overnight bag!
Her husband walks into the house, and sits down to BS a little. In my head I wondered where Peter was, but just assumed he went straight to his room to pack his bag. He was taking so long, I decided to go and help him pack his bag. As I walked downstairs, I noticed the door was open to the outside, so I closed it. I didn’t see Peter downstairs, I figured he got side tracked and was out chasing butterflies or mutilating grasshoppers (which I had to remind him today to leave insects intact!). So, I packed his bag and headed back upstairs to sit and converse….and drink of course.
Not 2 minutes later, the door to the outside opens and you hear;
Peter: (sob, breath, sob, breath, slight hysterics) some, some, someone, lef lef left me in the the the c-c-c-car. And, and, and (breath sob) I could could couldn’t get out (breath sob breath sob)
And, as Peter rounds the corner on the stairs, you see blood all over his face. The kid has a bloody nose.
Me: Peter, calm down. Now, what happened?
Peter: (sob sob sob) HE…(friends husband)(and very accusingly might I add) left me (sob sob sob) in the car. I tried to get out (sob sob breath breath sob) and I couldn’t figure it out.
In Peter’s defense, I had to have help to get out of their new car once too…hey, it was tricky!
Friend’s husband: OMG, I’m sorry buddy, I thought you got out and were right behind me (hence the still opened door)
Peter: I wasn’t. I don’t want to go to his house right now.
Me: (very hesitantly) Peter, did your nose start bleeding in the car
Peter: yes
Me: Did you get blood in their BRAND new car
Peter: Yes
Me: Well Peter, why did you get so freaked out about being in a car in your own driveway?
Peter: (a little whimpering and whining) I don’t know
Me: Well, you need to quit crying.
Peter: OK
So, the couple gets ready to leave. Peter decides that he is less traumatized than he thought and he would go home with them. I say my good-byes, and make the hasty decision to go out to the driveway to have a look at the blood in the car. Well, needless to say, yes, the kid got blood on their car…..
There was blood in the back, on the center console, on the dashboard, on the stereo cover, the side of both driver and passenger seat fabrics, and my absolute favorite….streaked down the passenger window, like an episode of psycho. This is where I just started to laugh. It was truly a traumatic experience for him, but for god sakes, it wasn’t so bad that he had to be hysterical and get a nose bleed over it. Poor guy…now that he can read, I have shown him where owner’s manuals are in case he gets stuck again….Just read that, sound out the words, and you’ll be just fine little buddy….and while you’re reading, let mommy know how to turn the windshield wipers on the Subaru ON.
Jul 11, 2010
New Bitch on the Block
So I'm sitting here trying to figure out what the hell I can write about my so exciting life...but to be honest the last couple days have been trying. Kaidence has decided to enter the terrible twos, 28 days before her third birthday. And Peter has decided that he can whine and be emotional every time he doesn't get his way, and Hunter, well he's just a cute baby. What I don't understand is why the kids are doing this. I pride myself on being the hard-ass mom that doesn't take their shit and doesn't allow the bullshit some other parents may allow. I demand respect and make them listen, so why have the last few days been like this? Today, Kaidence went on and on and on about abso-fucking-lutely nothing!!! First she wants to take a walk, then she scrapes her knee, and it was all down hill from there. Two fun filled hours of screaming, screeching, crying, and the occasional head bang. Hunter and I just sat there watching, not quite sure if we were watching Dr. Jekyl or Mr. Hyde. Towards the end of the two hours, all I could do was take pictures to send to her dad. Well, bad idea cause that sent her spiraling into psycho. Now don't get me wrong, I love my daughter with all my heart, but that bitch is extreme! I am actually scared of her, and whoever marries her is SCREWED big time. And you know what, she's like my twin, so a light bulb is finally starting to flicker on....I kind of feel sorry for my husband. I bet when I get all pissed over nothing he thinks "that bitch is extreme." OMG, I'm that wife. The one that the other guys are scared of and go home to their wife and thank GOD that they aren't married to me. Man, that must really suck for Pete, but maybe I should start charging a fee for making other husbands realize that their "bitch" could be worse. Like a "Browning" bitch. I bet I could bottle mine and Kaidence's bitchiness, apply for a patent, and makes tons of money. Or, it could back fire and we'd be responsible for the lawsuits people file for their "emotional trauma" upon opening the bottle. Well, I guess if I'm worried about leaving a legacy, I can stop worrying. Kaidence is well on her way to getting everything her way and blazing a trail wherever she goes....and I guess when she gets older and we can actually get along for 5 minutes we can go places and people can look and say "Man, those bitches are extreme!" Make me proud baby girl! Hahahaha, sucks to be the rest of the Universe!
And a side note...I truly love my little girl, I'm just scared at looking at a smaller version of me.
And a side note...I truly love my little girl, I'm just scared at looking at a smaller version of me.
Jul 9, 2010
FML
Today was a hectic day for sure. I just don't know what to make of it. I just kept plugging through it and am now relaxing in bed with 3 sleeping "angels" and the lull of nothingness.
The first part of my day involved dropping the kids off at a sitter and cleaning a house. 4 hours of house cleaning in the heat....not as bad as I imagined and the money was good! The bad part came when I went to pick the kids up afterwards. I pull into the driveway, and everyone is outside, except for the baby. No big deal at first. I walked into the house, and there he was in his car seat sleeping. I asked how the kids were, they were fine. Upon further probing, I learned more than I needed to know. First, I was told that the baby was fussy and it was getting old, so she strapped him into his car seat to cry himself to sleep. What? I went and unstrapped him, picked him up, and he had tear stains all over his face. I tried to remain as calm as possible, which is a great thing for me to have to do. I was then told that my oldest wasn't bad, just annoying. Really? Well, so are you stupid dumb ass. and furthermore, he is six years old and he's a boy....annoying is all he is! DUH!
So, the first thing that really chaps my ass is this whole "he was fussy, wanted to be held all the time, and I just set him down to cry." Listen people, if you want to do the crying technique in your own house, that's fine. It's a parent's choice to determine what is right for their children and their family. In my house, my family, and with my kids...I don't let them cry. Some say it makes me weak, I feel just the opposite. That baby spends 9 months being held by you, as you let is grow and gain nourishment in and from your body. Your baby is born, the first place it finds comfort is in your arms. Therefore, the comfort zone is with their parents. How is that so wrong. I relish a baby falling asleep in my arms at night. I relish the times we spend together at night. So what if I get an hour less sleep because of this. I have had three kids that were great happy babies, and none were made to cry themselves to sleep. I can't be doing the wrong thing if all my babies were great! Sorry, I just don't see the point of letting a baby cry itself to sleep when all they want is you, and you have arms and hands to hold them. When they grow up, I won't ever wish I held them more, spent more time with them etc,,,,because I gave them my time and comforted them like they wanted. So, needless to say, my kids aren't gonna be babysat anymore. Shit like this is why I stay home. I don't trust people with my kids. And, if you mess with mama's chicks, I'm gonna peck your mother fucking eyes out.
The second problem with this whole day, is someone telling me my oldest is annoying. Hell yeah he's annoying. He asks a million questions a day, is loud even when he whispers, is reading and spelling everything out loud, whistle any tune he hears on the TV or radio....he's a boy. And he's smart! A hell of a lot smarter than this dip shit's kids. But what is annoying is this lady. She shows up unannounced at all hours, even late, she dishes out personal information about her and her husband, she practically stalks me, and Peter's annoying? Think again sister. You think it's OK to say that stuff to me. It's not. Do I tell you that I think you're dumb? That your kids are disrespectful? That your hair is nappy? Nope. SO shut your mouth before I stomp it into your throat.
I love my kids with all my heart. I don't spoil them with toys and useless bullshit, I give them all the time and love and attention I can. I answer the annoying questions, and am thankful that he's curious. I hold the fussy baby and lull him to sleep, thankful that he's healthy and alive. When my daughter is throwing a diva drama full blown conniption, I'm grateful she's strong willed and will never be a follower. These things make me strong. And anyone who differs with me has the right to do so. Anyone who mocks me, can get bent. And anyone who tells me what I do is wrong, can suck me.
Enough for the night, it is 1am, and i am beat. Thanks for reading!
The first part of my day involved dropping the kids off at a sitter and cleaning a house. 4 hours of house cleaning in the heat....not as bad as I imagined and the money was good! The bad part came when I went to pick the kids up afterwards. I pull into the driveway, and everyone is outside, except for the baby. No big deal at first. I walked into the house, and there he was in his car seat sleeping. I asked how the kids were, they were fine. Upon further probing, I learned more than I needed to know. First, I was told that the baby was fussy and it was getting old, so she strapped him into his car seat to cry himself to sleep. What? I went and unstrapped him, picked him up, and he had tear stains all over his face. I tried to remain as calm as possible, which is a great thing for me to have to do. I was then told that my oldest wasn't bad, just annoying. Really? Well, so are you stupid dumb ass. and furthermore, he is six years old and he's a boy....annoying is all he is! DUH!
So, the first thing that really chaps my ass is this whole "he was fussy, wanted to be held all the time, and I just set him down to cry." Listen people, if you want to do the crying technique in your own house, that's fine. It's a parent's choice to determine what is right for their children and their family. In my house, my family, and with my kids...I don't let them cry. Some say it makes me weak, I feel just the opposite. That baby spends 9 months being held by you, as you let is grow and gain nourishment in and from your body. Your baby is born, the first place it finds comfort is in your arms. Therefore, the comfort zone is with their parents. How is that so wrong. I relish a baby falling asleep in my arms at night. I relish the times we spend together at night. So what if I get an hour less sleep because of this. I have had three kids that were great happy babies, and none were made to cry themselves to sleep. I can't be doing the wrong thing if all my babies were great! Sorry, I just don't see the point of letting a baby cry itself to sleep when all they want is you, and you have arms and hands to hold them. When they grow up, I won't ever wish I held them more, spent more time with them etc,,,,because I gave them my time and comforted them like they wanted. So, needless to say, my kids aren't gonna be babysat anymore. Shit like this is why I stay home. I don't trust people with my kids. And, if you mess with mama's chicks, I'm gonna peck your mother fucking eyes out.
The second problem with this whole day, is someone telling me my oldest is annoying. Hell yeah he's annoying. He asks a million questions a day, is loud even when he whispers, is reading and spelling everything out loud, whistle any tune he hears on the TV or radio....he's a boy. And he's smart! A hell of a lot smarter than this dip shit's kids. But what is annoying is this lady. She shows up unannounced at all hours, even late, she dishes out personal information about her and her husband, she practically stalks me, and Peter's annoying? Think again sister. You think it's OK to say that stuff to me. It's not. Do I tell you that I think you're dumb? That your kids are disrespectful? That your hair is nappy? Nope. SO shut your mouth before I stomp it into your throat.
I love my kids with all my heart. I don't spoil them with toys and useless bullshit, I give them all the time and love and attention I can. I answer the annoying questions, and am thankful that he's curious. I hold the fussy baby and lull him to sleep, thankful that he's healthy and alive. When my daughter is throwing a diva drama full blown conniption, I'm grateful she's strong willed and will never be a follower. These things make me strong. And anyone who differs with me has the right to do so. Anyone who mocks me, can get bent. And anyone who tells me what I do is wrong, can suck me.
Enough for the night, it is 1am, and i am beat. Thanks for reading!
Jul 8, 2010
The Boy Who Frankensteined a Grasshopper
So, we have all heard the tale of Frankenstein, the monster pieced together by spare parts to form a whole being. Well, here in the Browning family, we've strayed from building a whole being, but my son has mastered building "things" with spare parts. To start this story, let me share my first concern in the tale:
Four weeks ago, Peter woke up and ran up stairs to say "Mom, there's a bird stuck in a tree." OK, explaining that birds don't get suck in trees isn't even worth the waste of air when it comes to Peter. Well, I looked outside, and believe it or not, there was a bird lying on the ground unable to fly. So technically, it was stuck on the ground. I disregarded the bird and the boy. Later in the morning he said he put the bird under the shop, in order to keep if from being eaten by the dogs (we have 3 big ones). Early in the afternoon, I looked on the deck and noticed Suave (as in Rico Suave), my golden retriever, chewing on something. I poked my head out the door and asked Peter what Suave was chewing on. He answered "the bird!" OK, assuming the bird died, and it was almost fully eaten, I went about my day. Once Dad came home, I give him an account of my day, including the bird saga, and as I was telling him about it, a light bulb came on in my head:
Me: Peter, come here for a minute.
Peter: What
Me: Was the bird dead or alive when you fed it to Suave?
Peter: dead?
Me: OK.....how did it die?
Peter: I killed it.
Me: OK....how did you kill it?
Peter: I poked it in the eye with a stick
This is where mom and dad try not to laugh out loud and turn around so the kids don't see our amusement. Yes, I said amusement. If it were someone else's kid that did it, I would be laughing my ass off, so why not find it comical when my kid does it?
Enough of the serial killer jokes...haha...funny funny....Let's proceed with the story:
2 days ago, Peter became fascinated with all the grasshoppers jumping around the yard. This fascination was mainly due to the butterfly population being eradicated by Peter and his sister. Well, well into the afternoon, I tell him to come inside for dinner, and he pisses and moans all the way up the stairs to the deck. I asked him what was wrong. He answered "I'm not done with my grasshoppers." At this precise moment, I know that I shouldn't ask and probably don't want the answer, but I ask anyways. "What do you mean you aren't done?" He runs down the stairs, grabs something and runs back up. He says "look!" Upon first glance, I see a grasshopper flapping his wings. Then he explains that there are two grasshoppers and he took the heads off and squished their necks together. So upon closer examination, I can vividly see two grasshoppers bodies no heads. So from left to right....the sequence is butt, legs, upper body, upper body, legs, and butt. Special, I know. Where in the hell would this child think to even do this. Scary, I know. Where would be get these horrid ideas? Rewind a couple weeks:
Me: Kids come here quick. I want to show you something
kids: what?
Me: There's a spider in the sink, want to see something cool.
Kids: Yes Yes Yes
Me: OK, watch this
(Spraying Scrubbing Bubbles all over spider! Spider flips to it's back, kicks a little and then dies, dies, dies. Hahahahahahaha...sorry got carried away :)
Me: Cool huh?
Kids: Yeah, do it again
Me: OK, find me another spider!
See, I honestly have no clue where Peter would get such ideas. Boggles the mind!
Four weeks ago, Peter woke up and ran up stairs to say "Mom, there's a bird stuck in a tree." OK, explaining that birds don't get suck in trees isn't even worth the waste of air when it comes to Peter. Well, I looked outside, and believe it or not, there was a bird lying on the ground unable to fly. So technically, it was stuck on the ground. I disregarded the bird and the boy. Later in the morning he said he put the bird under the shop, in order to keep if from being eaten by the dogs (we have 3 big ones). Early in the afternoon, I looked on the deck and noticed Suave (as in Rico Suave), my golden retriever, chewing on something. I poked my head out the door and asked Peter what Suave was chewing on. He answered "the bird!" OK, assuming the bird died, and it was almost fully eaten, I went about my day. Once Dad came home, I give him an account of my day, including the bird saga, and as I was telling him about it, a light bulb came on in my head:
Me: Peter, come here for a minute.
Peter: What
Me: Was the bird dead or alive when you fed it to Suave?
Peter: dead?
Me: OK.....how did it die?
Peter: I killed it.
Me: OK....how did you kill it?
Peter: I poked it in the eye with a stick
This is where mom and dad try not to laugh out loud and turn around so the kids don't see our amusement. Yes, I said amusement. If it were someone else's kid that did it, I would be laughing my ass off, so why not find it comical when my kid does it?
Enough of the serial killer jokes...haha...funny funny....Let's proceed with the story:
2 days ago, Peter became fascinated with all the grasshoppers jumping around the yard. This fascination was mainly due to the butterfly population being eradicated by Peter and his sister. Well, well into the afternoon, I tell him to come inside for dinner, and he pisses and moans all the way up the stairs to the deck. I asked him what was wrong. He answered "I'm not done with my grasshoppers." At this precise moment, I know that I shouldn't ask and probably don't want the answer, but I ask anyways. "What do you mean you aren't done?" He runs down the stairs, grabs something and runs back up. He says "look!" Upon first glance, I see a grasshopper flapping his wings. Then he explains that there are two grasshoppers and he took the heads off and squished their necks together. So upon closer examination, I can vividly see two grasshoppers bodies no heads. So from left to right....the sequence is butt, legs, upper body, upper body, legs, and butt. Special, I know. Where in the hell would this child think to even do this. Scary, I know. Where would be get these horrid ideas? Rewind a couple weeks:
Me: Kids come here quick. I want to show you something
kids: what?
Me: There's a spider in the sink, want to see something cool.
Kids: Yes Yes Yes
Me: OK, watch this
(Spraying Scrubbing Bubbles all over spider! Spider flips to it's back, kicks a little and then dies, dies, dies. Hahahahahahaha...sorry got carried away :)
Me: Cool huh?
Kids: Yeah, do it again
Me: OK, find me another spider!
See, I honestly have no clue where Peter would get such ideas. Boggles the mind!
Jul 7, 2010
Why People Why?
In the last year, I have had at least one hundred request to start this blog. Is my life so different from anyone Else's? Doesn't everyone live like me? We have bad days, good days, wild days, and sad days. We can always laugh or make a funny story out of everything that comes our way. For example, when we had our first child (11/2003) we were so poor that the day I had my C-Section, our car insurance was cancelled for non-payment. While it wasn't funny at the time, a week later we joked how hospitals make sure the car seat is safe, but never make sure the car and driver is. We have come far from this day, but never forget how it can be.
If I think about why my life is different, I think about how a demented June Cleaver could be. I feel if this character did exist, I would play the role. I love to cook, clean, bake, and show up other moms! I secretly relish all the comments about my wonderful cooking, well dressed children, and the occasional comparison the "Monica" from FRIENDS, due to my cleaning. (Props to my awesome friend Cory). I mean, doesn't everyone else have a Bissel Steam Shot, Bissel Steam mop, scrub their children's stained clothes with Clorox 2, and clean walls and toys on a daily basis? On the other hand, I am not my kids friends. They don't like me, and I'm OK with that. I am their parent, not their friend, and anyone who thinks I do it wrong can suck me. I am responsible for how making my children successful adults functioning normal in society. Actually, scratch that, we are a pretty fucked example of normal. For people who don't spank their kids....quit reading now, cause I'm about to offend your ass BIG TIME....So here's the scoop: I got spanked, I lived, and I sure as shit never did whatever I got spanked for again. So that being said, let me tell you that spanking is OK. Look at it this way: When our children grow up, they are out in jail/prison for breaking the law. Why when they break rules would they not be punished as well? What do you think is worse, a spanking now or being ass raped in prison? Bet you didn't think of it that way, huh? So, Mr. "I am such a good parent," I don't spank my kids, will your child resent you when they break the law, due to their lack of boundaries, and have a bigger butt hole from jail?
OK people, this is the start. Tell me what you want to hear! Ask me whatever you want, I promise to answer you all! But for now, I am tired, the wine is kicking in, and I just ran out of things to write about! Next blog....How Peter Frankensteined two grasshoppers.......
If I think about why my life is different, I think about how a demented June Cleaver could be. I feel if this character did exist, I would play the role. I love to cook, clean, bake, and show up other moms! I secretly relish all the comments about my wonderful cooking, well dressed children, and the occasional comparison the "Monica" from FRIENDS, due to my cleaning. (Props to my awesome friend Cory). I mean, doesn't everyone else have a Bissel Steam Shot, Bissel Steam mop, scrub their children's stained clothes with Clorox 2, and clean walls and toys on a daily basis? On the other hand, I am not my kids friends. They don't like me, and I'm OK with that. I am their parent, not their friend, and anyone who thinks I do it wrong can suck me. I am responsible for how making my children successful adults functioning normal in society. Actually, scratch that, we are a pretty fucked example of normal. For people who don't spank their kids....quit reading now, cause I'm about to offend your ass BIG TIME....So here's the scoop: I got spanked, I lived, and I sure as shit never did whatever I got spanked for again. So that being said, let me tell you that spanking is OK. Look at it this way: When our children grow up, they are out in jail/prison for breaking the law. Why when they break rules would they not be punished as well? What do you think is worse, a spanking now or being ass raped in prison? Bet you didn't think of it that way, huh? So, Mr. "I am such a good parent," I don't spank my kids, will your child resent you when they break the law, due to their lack of boundaries, and have a bigger butt hole from jail?
OK people, this is the start. Tell me what you want to hear! Ask me whatever you want, I promise to answer you all! But for now, I am tired, the wine is kicking in, and I just ran out of things to write about! Next blog....How Peter Frankensteined two grasshoppers.......
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