Place of Moxie

Calendar of the Non-Kept Kept Woman

2011-03-22T15:16:00.000-07:00

I don't think I can say I have been to "busy" to blog. I had some time off between the hospital I was at and the one I am now at. So I really have no excuse. Other than I am a lazy slacker. As I get older I realize my true calling in life should have been a "Kept Woman". (Sigh.... I know. I wish you were too. I will think happy 'Kept Woman' thoughts for both of us. Then we could go meet for mani/pedi's and dessert everyday.....)

Anyway, on my "Va-cay" I spent tons of time cooking. (Did I tell you know that not only am I obsessed with all things burlap but all things French as well?? Especially French food.)

We made a big batch of Strawberry Freezer Jam. And then after Jason tried it for the first time, we realized one batch would not be enough for all of us and we promptly planted several Strawberry plants in the garden. And I have managed not to kill them yet. I L.O.V.E. home-made Strawberry jam. It reminds me of my Mom.

I made new throw pillows for the couches.

I've watched Monster House, Monsters Inc, Matilda, and Nemo 8 billion times thanks to Liv. (Please someone break the DVD player. PLEASE.) She also has also become my portable midgy DJ companion. No matter where we are or are going- she is always ready to bump the tunes. "No, Mom. Another song. Louder please. Wait, Mom- turn it down. Where are we going? Target? The blanket store? OK. Mom, turn it up now."

We also took a trip to the beach. Just over night and the water was cold but it was heavenly.

(And yes, my ass looks that big in real life too.)

XOXO ad

A picture's worth a thousand words... or a glass or two of wine at least.

2011-02-25T02:57:00.000-08:00

This is the picture I have as my screen saver on my cell phone. 'Cos basically- this everyday, unfiltered image sums up my life waaaaay more than some cheesy posed smiles.

The crying.

OK, maybe not just the "crying". The whole emotional, almost hormonal roller coaster of almost crying, fake crying, thinking about crying, the only one of the girls is crying and this makes the non-crying girl cry also, and then the calming down from the crying that just took place.

This. is. a. never. ending. ride. here.

Is it a little girl thing? A child thing? A me as a sucky mom thing???? I don't know. I would think being a woman myself and coming from a family of four daughters would hmmm, I don't know, give me some insight into the female minor.

Umm. Yeah, it didn't. Or hasn't yet.

Sooooo, even though I haven't blogged very regularly.... I can up date you rather quickly. The girls, work and the good boy fill my days. I feel like an almost adult. The routine of work and kids and responsibilities. Hmm. That's my life.

(Disclaimer- No crying girls were harmed in the taking of the above picture. After three hours of making mud pies there were told to come in and eat dinner. Yeah I know, I'm mean. How dare I try to keep them fed. Sheesh.)

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Well, my psychic advisor DID mention a son in my future...

2010-11-17T20:31:00.000-08:00

And my response was 'Lily! Shut your dirty mouth. Why would you say something like that?!!'

.................

And then I met HIM.

Hmm. One 'Well it could be an early family Christmas present' convo later... (Thank you Jason)

And now this is me. He's like having a new born. (Without the convience of a diaper though.)

Anyhoo... y'all meet Bear.

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Since Im not a Twitter whore...

2010-09-20T18:17:00.000-07:00

let me update you on the Vag Posse happenings.

-Lily started second grade the end of August and has already informed me that she sees 'no use for math' and is ready to drop out of school entirely. (And I'm all 'No your effing not. How the hell do you expect to take care of me when I'm old if your some loser drop out??? Cos mama likes to shop, yo. You better be makin' some mega bucks.' Yeah, I know. Its really smart of me to think of my retirement. Especially with this economy.)

-The Bad Boy and I go back to court this week. Cos he has decided to like, live up to his nick name and all. Wonnnnnnderrrrrrful. (If you drop out of school, refuse to get a job, hang out with gang bangers, crash your car and cant remember how or where or when it happened, AND get evicted from your apartment all in a 2 month period- you too can qualify for 'Bad Boy' status.)

-Liv turns 2 tomorrow. And Lily turns 8 next week. And that makes me feel OLD.

-An introduction of the new BF is also needed... I'll call him The Good Boy. Never married. No kids. Steady career. Never been arrested. I told you he's a good boy. Don't worry- I'm sure I'll corrupt him... and more updates on him will follow of course.

-XOXO ad

Just 'cos I've been away for a gazillion years DOESN'T mean I've gotten better at Motherin'...

2010-07-24T03:03:00.000-07:00

Well, duh. Obviously. What were you expecting??? Anyway. Latest and greatest Mother of the Year moment...

Lily had a sleep over. The following morning was spent at the pool (remember tan fat is wayyyy better than pasty white fat. This is Fat Girl 101, ladies.) Then, after the pool and lunch, I loaded up my little vagina clan and headed to the local library for an afternoon spent in the AC and surrounded by Junie B. Jones books. (And if you don't know what a Junie B. Jones book is- your lucky. Trust me.)

Sigh.

We go to use the elevator to the 2nd floor. (I'm kinda an Anita Shrieve whore...) Lily is pushing Liv in the stroller, my purse is hung over the strap and Lily's BFF is in tow.

We get in the elevator.

Now, I know I'm a dumb ass. This is very obvious. To you. To me. To everyone. We get it. I get it. I mean, I'm used to floors in an elevator bein' labeled like, I don't know- 1, 2, 3 and so on and so on. Maybe even a 'B' for basement thrown in there or a 'G' fo ground. I can handle that.

So... something like 1m, 1, 2m, 2 and then 3 is OBVIOUSLY gonna throw me off my game.

Since we were on the ground... errr at least I THOUGHT we were, I hit 2.

Elevator goes up and the doors open. I step out and so does Lily's BFF. I say 'Hold on girls, lets make sure this is the right floor.' Its not. I turn around to get back on the elevator.

And its closing. FAST. Like seriously. And sticking my body in the closing door is not setting off the 'Oh, no I'm closing on a body' Sensor that normally springs elevator doors back open.

The door closes. And down it goes.

With Lily and Liv in the stroller and my purse.

Lily is immediately screaming. No, really, you could hear her screaming all the way down. Like, ALLLLL the way down.

Lily's BFF stares at me, her eyes wide.

A few floors and elevator rides later, I finally spotted the girls from the 2nd story balcony... (I don't know if shouting 'LILY, DO NOT MOVE!! I SEE YOU AND I'M COMING TO GET YOU RIGHT NOW!!' was the most PC Library etticate move to make now that I think back though...)

On the way to the car I said to Lily's BFF 'Yo, sugar pie, Lets not tell your mom I Lost my kids on the elevator ok?'

XOXO ad

Lily's screening skills... or COMPLETE lack there of...

2010-03-22T12:50:00.000-07:00

So, Lily and I are pretty candid. I.E: I'm a Nazi mom and what I say goes with a smile on her face and a 'Yes Ma'am response'; how no one should ever touch her in certain parts AND if this ever does happen, she knows she can tell me so I can kill them; how people will not want to play with you at school if you don't take a shower every day ('cos yo- you stink...)

We have also covered things like, marriage is only acceptable AFTER she goes to college, that a proposal is just not a proposal with anything less than 2 carats... You know, basic facts of life kinda stuff...

I realized yesterday I left out some vital, critical things. I mean I though some of it was common sense but then again she is 7....

So, dollface, bein' that you have like, a Nazi mom and all- I must meet and approve of all new playmates IE: the boy who lives across from our condo...

(**Lily was outside riding her scooter yesterday in the courtyard.... and the following convo ensued.)

'Hey Mom, there's a boy outside in a tree and he wants to know if I can play with him. He wants to ride my scooter.'

'Whats his name? How old is he? Does he live here?'

'I don't know. I've just been calling him "Boy in the blue shirt"... I'll go ask.'

------------------------------------------------------------

'His name is Triston and he's 15.'

'He's WHAT???!!! Whats wrong with you??!! NO, you are not playing with a 15 year old boy!! What do you think this is "To catch a predator the juvenile years"???!!!'

By this point I am already outside looking for this pervert tree monkey Triston, sooo ready to give him a piece of my mind and call the cops or somethin'... when I see a little a boy wearing a blue shirt- riding a tricycle.

'Hey, were you the kid wanting to play with Lily?'

'Yeah. Can I ride her scooter?'

'Whats your name?'

'Triston.'

'How old are you?'

He looks down at his fingers counting. 'I'm four.'

I look down at Lily beside me and she just shrugs. 'So... since he's not 15 can I play with him?'

Sigh. Lily. Lily. Lily. Somedays I wonder about her.

Basic life skills lesson of the day: when you meet someone new, ask them their name. That way you don't have to keep referring to them as 'Boy in the Blue shirt'. Also, its good to make sure your new friend is 'age appropriate'. All parties should be aware of not only their age, but the other persons age as well. Use of ones critical thinking skills can be used to gage accurate age if needed. (IE: 4 is not 15...)

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Yo, Miranda can't you just sing 'bout guns and shit???

2010-03-15T18:20:00.000-07:00

So... I heard this song Saturday night on the radio as I was drivin' home after work and pickin' up the girls. It made me cry. Like the kind of cryin' that you really shouldn't do while operating a motor vehicle. The kind of crying that even made Lily ask me what was wrong. I think I'm just way hormonal right now. (I hate periods. Just for the record let me state that.) Anyway, I guess it is what it is right now. I'm slightly an emotion, weepy mess. A full on mess. M.E.S.S.

'I know they say you can’t go home again

I just had to come back one last time

Ma’am I know you don’t know me from Adam

But these handprints on the front steps are mine
Up those stairs in that little back bedroom

Is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar

I bet you didn’t know under that live oak

My favorite dog is buried in the yard

....
You leave home and you move on and you do the best you can

I got lost in this old world and forgot who I am

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it

This brokenness inside me might start healing

Out here it’s like I’m someone else

I thought that maybe I could find myself

If I could just come in I swear I’ll leave

Won’t take nothing but a memory

From the house that built me'

The House That Built Me

By Miranda Lambert

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Don't lose the needle nose pliars in your pants...

2010-03-09T11:24:00.000-08:00

Hey, so y'all- do you remember that post in which I informed you I gave myself PTSD by tryin' on a pair of my 'skinny-someday-I'll-wear-these-again-jeans?

Yes, you do. Don't lie. Read it again if you need a refresher.

Anyway, I just wanted to inform y'all that I am wearing those jeans today. And by 'wearing' I mean like, they fit normal. Without havin' to lay down to zip 'em up or doin' anything else wicked crazy we dumb ladies do to fit into clothes we should NOT be wearin'.

So, anyway. Yeah just a news flash.

Who wants stew for dinner? Any takers? I wish my family lived closer. Seriously.

xoxo ad

This is strictly a 'Boys Have Cooties' Home

2010-02-20T21:01:00.000-08:00

We survived the move. I unpacked the last box today. I'm still not sleeping great. I'm getting used to a new stove and oven. The water is either freakin' scalding hot or like full on so cold there are practically ice chunks in it. It is super quiet here though. I am adoring time off work and hangin' with the girls...

I made Chinese food for dinner tonight and Lily told me I should get a job as a 'cooker at a restaurant... 'cos this is like, even waaaay better than Panda, Mom.'

Liv is walking. (Shut up I'm serious. Really.) Like actual WALKING. On. her. FEET. (Thank God, I was kinda preparin' myself for her to be like, some weirdo knee-walker savant kid or somethin'...)
(***No offense to weirdo savant kids out there...)

Mostly, I am ok. I am landing on my feet. I am not just surviving. I am thriving. I see my girls and I smile.

And, nooooo I will never date again. 'Cos yo, boys are gross basically. Just sayin'...
(*** No offense to boys out there...)

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Am I supposed to box up my sense of failure too??

2010-02-12T02:41:00.000-08:00

I don't like moving. (Actually I don't really like anything involving lots of work or manual labor... I'm kinda lazy like that...) Seriously yo, it kinda sucks. Like it stresses me out to the point of insomnia... The Mover Boys will be here at 10'ish. I am keeping my fingers crossed that the day goes smoothly.
I am tired, cranky, fighting off a cold, OH and I. just. got. my. period. today.

To tell you the truth, this all feels kinda surreal. 27 and headed for divorce number 2.

Sigh. There are no words. Some tears here and there. A knot in the pit of my stomach. A general sense of disappointment in myself basically.

XOXO ad

Hope your cell phones insured...

2010-01-30T18:10:00.000-08:00

Weeks, no months of fighting. A request for a divorce. A thrown cell phone. An arrest for spousal abuse and assault with a deadly weapon. Five staples to my head. Yes. The cell phone was the 'deadly weapon'. Shut up. I know. I. KNOW. I feel lame. At least it could have been something like, dangerous. Like a hammer. Or a book. A can of corn. Nope. The LG Samsung Instinct has a whole new view in my eyes. Sigh. Anyway. The Bad Boy is at his rents house. Indefinitely. Till he or I move out here. (Note to self: I need some moving boxes.) I also need to figure out how the hell to get the blood completely out of my hair. Washed it 3 times and I still have these crazy red 'highlights' on the left side. Ugh.

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Yo, there are no words. Watch the video.

2010-01-10T16:41:00.000-08:00

I know. I. know. Your welcome. But be careful- I sooo called dibs on him first.

It opens 2/5/2010. Anyone wanna go see it with me???

XOXO ad

2010-01-02T19:44:00.000-08:00

I am a blog follower. Big time. My family, your family, some bloggers I know in real life, some bloggers I know only through the world of bloggin'. Some times I read things that make me cry. Some times I laugh. Some times I wish I lived closer to family... (pick any sister and insert her state here...) Some times I read to get domestic diva ideas. Sometimes I read just to unwind and zone out.

The last month I haven't posted anything. I have followed consistently. But haven't felt like sayin' much in return. Some things I think 'God, does anyone really want to read that?' Or 'Nothin' nice to say = don't say anything at all'.

So I have been pretty quite. I am here. I am reading. I am just... trying to process I guess.

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'Round these here parts...

2009-12-10T09:29:00.000-08:00

-Liv is FINALLY standing on her own. (Yeah I know. I told you lazy fat kid at camp. For reals. She's 15 months old. And yes, she is just now standing on her own. Oh, and she's walking. Well, on her knees. I think she has an altitude aversion. Standing is a step in the right direction at least.)
-Lily is of course counting down the days til Christmas. (Thank you G-Ma Stephens for the 'clock with the doors on it that counts down the days to Christmas'- Lily code for ADVENT CALENDAR.
-The Bad Boy had his first round of Cortisone injections for his back yesterday. (Hmm. He woke up crying several times last night. Yes, The Bad Boy- all 6'2 of his tatted up self with actual TEARS. I don't know but from my stand point I'm thinkin' that maybe they didn't work??? Ugh.)
-I fell asleep on the couch at 6:30pm last night. (Yes. Full on down for the count and the night. I half woke up to put the girls to bed at 7pm and then stumbled into bed. When I am home, I try to catch up on sleep, laundry and time with the girls. I don't know but I think I'm gunnin' for 'Suckiest Mom of the Year' award with my ass MIA all the time.)
-Marital Tension. (For those of y'all married- you know what that entails. And I just wonder- Who does the whole marriage thing AND stays sane???? And yes, I would settle for sane at this point since 'content and peaceful sure as hell aren't happenin'. Seriously.)

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'That's her norm, yo.'

2009-12-02T19:40:00.000-08:00

A rapid response is called for a patient on the floors.
By the time I got there... 40 seconds later this was the scene in the patients room:

(**Rapid Response= Not quite a full on Code Blue but get your ass here quick, 'y'all.)

The patient is a middle aged woman, wearing only a large T-shirt. She is pacing around her room, dangling all sorts of now unhooked telemetry tubes and stuff all over her person. Screaming at the top of her lungs she alternates between 'Mama! Call my Mama NOW!! Mama, please!! I can't breathe!! Call my Mama now!!!' and 'I want my shirt off now. I can't breathe!! Please take my shirt off!!

A crowd of medical personnel has quickly gathered at her/in her room. The standard questions are asked all around ('What's goin' on?' 'Vitals?' 'Is she on a psych med time out?' 'Present illness?' 'Can we give her some ativan???' etc, etc. The list goes on.) The patient has now ripped her shirt off and is frantically pacing the room even faster. Amid all the chaos, the patients sister steps out of the in-room patient bathroom.

Sister- 'Where did y'all come from? What's going on?'

Resident-'Ma'am, your sister said she was having trouble breathing and she seems very agitated. We just want to make sure shes OK.'

Sister- 'OK? Of course she's OK. She's always like this. This is her norm, honey.'

Did I mention this is my Friday for this week?? :) See 'y'all back at the nut house Sunday.

XOXO ad.

My love affair with County

2009-11-16T19:43:00.001-08:00

The first few weeks at KMC has left me full of new adventures/funny stories/occasional eff ups. You would think I would have e n d l e s s things to blog about. I think I'm still adjusting. To the hours, the work, the constant be on the top of your game mentality. I am even still adjusting to the walking. Me legs still hurt some nights when I get home. I leave before the sun is up and return when it is dark.

Don't get me wrong I love it. L.O.V.E it. I don't even mind the waking up at 4am part (Duh, a girl's got to doll up a little. I mean hell, if I was about to die- I would want the people tryin' to save me to be at least SOMEWHAT put together ya know?) I love the patients. I love the team I work with. I even love the nightly drive home (all of 7 minutes) to rehash my 'Ash, you are such an idiot...' moments. I have them daily. But hey- that means I am learning. I'm OK with that.

Despite my nickname at work... (Cheeseburger, long story don't ask...) I have lost 25lbs. since I started eating healthy about four weeks ago. I feel better. I move better. I have more energy.

The girls are adjusting well to life with The Bad Boy on the days I work. Minus the hair bows and completely matching outfits things seem to be going smoothly. I was sick my first week with a cold that has finally seemed to make its way through Lily and now onto Liv. Don't you love sick kids????

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I am not a missing person...

2009-11-01T19:59:00.000-08:00

Ok, so sorry I have like, been a sucktastic blogger the last few weeks. I officially started this week at County. I love it. L.O.V.E it. Still getting used to wakin' up at 4am. (Yes, folks, first rounds are at 6am.) Anyway... I just wanted to say howdy, I miss all my blogga-ladies and I PROMISE to post something much more 'Ashley Fabulous' soon...

Hugs....
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How long does it take to get YOUR Spanx on? (Another overwhelming post of TMI...)

2009-10-21T15:03:00.000-07:00

Ok, ladies. My fellow wobbly bitted, fluffied out fabulous lovely ladies. I have a question. ('Just one???' you say. Shut up. I know.) I have finally gone to the dark side.

SPANX

I got my first Spanx last night and I am slightly concerned. Mainly because I think they shrank in the box on the way home from the store. Is that a common phenomenon? Or am I just one super lucky fat lady? I followed the supposedly convenient idiot-proof sizing guide on the back of the box. I even like, triple checked to make sure the box and the needed size were correct.

I tried them on when I got home.

Does it normally take 15 minutes to squeeze into them??? SERIOUSLY. It kinda hurt. I think I had a moment of my life flashing before my eyes. Scene: Internal organs ruptured, I am found unconscious and bleeding out on the floor. The hottie firemen that answer call to 911 have to use the Jaws of Life to cut the Spanx off my fat ass. SCARY. (But at least its a TAN fat ass. Thank God for tanning. Fatty Girl Hint Of The Day: A nice tan will do some serious damage control on cellulite. Tan fat is a thousand times better than pasty white fat.)

But back to my Spanx. No sooner than I finally get them on- the thought dawned on me- 'OMG, what if I can't get this off now??' I was kinda panicked. I stood there, starin' at my now sausage like encasing, still red in the face and huffing from the exertion. (Trust me NOT a pretty picture.)

Did I get the wrong size? Or is this the 'Spanx Norm'? Should I ignore the size chart and go up a size? (OH God, I'm to fat for my Spanx??? That's pathetic. Yeah, that's me. The too fat for Spanx girl.) Should I just take them back? (Can you even return them??) Should I just shoot myself in the foot now??

I will say this, I now understand why they have the whole open crotch thing goin' on. Ingenious move, Spanx makers. Seriously, ingenious move.

XOXO ad.

Join the ranks, Dude.

2009-10-21T11:33:00.000-07:00

This week is kinda my 'Last Hurah Week' before I head back to work full time... and as much as I love bein' home with the girls, doin' the whole House Mama thing and ect ect- I am sooo effin excited to get back to work. Back to patient care. Back to ventilators and snot and codes. Back to a good paycheck. Excited and way way nervous. It's been awhile since I have been in the acute care setting.
Hmm.

I find myself making lists and easy 'paint-by-numbers' like instructions for The Bad Boy.** As we are counting down to the final days, I think it is starting to hit him. The realization that I will be gone a lot (12 hour shifts...) and that juggling school and home and children is a lot to take on. Hello, Dude, welcome to MY LIFE during RT school... but hey whatever... Yeah, I used to be informed that 'going to school was not a real job' and therefore the house and kids was still my sole responsibility. And quit whining about it, Baby.
(** Read- Please make sure that meals are somewhat well balanced. Tator tots do not make a meal.)

Hmm.

So, I am trying not to be smug. Not to be all, total beeotch lady, 'Ohhhhh, going to school and takin' care of the girls is HARD???' I am not rooting for him to fall flat on his face. And I know things won't get done how I do them. I think I am just rooting for him to grasp some perspective. And maybe serve it with some kind of veggie at dinner.

XOXO ad.

I think I gave myself PTSD...

2009-10-13T09:24:00.001-07:00

P.T.S.D I said. Not an STD. Sheesh. Seriously, y'all are dirty. Anyway, can we please focus??? I am effed' up right now. For reals. I did something last night that (holy eff, even now my eyes are getting all misty and can feel the heat rising in my cheeks) was pretty hard core. Even for a bad ass MILF lady like me.

I tried on a pair of jeans. No, not just any pair of jeans. The jeans in question were from the top shelf in my closet. The 'Someday I'll get my ass into this again/I can't believe I was ever that small and this is proof to keep for yearsandyears....' shelf. Sigh. Unless I'm the only fatty that is self abusive enough to keep such clothing items around to taunt herself with. I mean c'mon, I know I am a fatty. I get it. (I don't quite get the whole Oprah saying 'It's not about the food'. What if it is??? What if I just like food? And the couch? What do I do then???) I am not so effed and retarded and delusional that I don't see/feel/know I have gained weight.

I have gained weight. An ASS load to be exact.

The really sad thing is- two years ago I was the skinniest I have been my entire adult life. That's when I met The Bad Boy. And then OF COURSE I get knocked up like three months later and there goes skinny Ashley down the drain. Sigh. I curse you prego weight. Actually I curse my genes too. I don't have those 'I can eat whatever I want and not gain an ounce' genes. Even when I am skinny for me- I am still a size 10/12. (Shut Up. I got boobies and hips, kiddies. Can't be all MILF like with no curves. Duh.)

So I tried on a pair of jeans that I wore when The Bad Boy and I had first started dating. Actually they were to0 big on me back then. I was to skinny for my skinny jeans.

And now. There are no words.

Other than, don't. do. that. EVER. Tryin' on your jeans from the top shelf I mean. UNLESS you have like a few Sangria's in 'ya and like, just won the Super Lotto and are now plotting your first round of plastic surgeries. OR you are wanting a huge dose of humble 'I suck Lardo Ass' pie.

Those jeans are now hanging up in plain sight in the kitchen.

XOXO ad

Mail Call

2009-10-11T17:39:00.000-07:00

OK, so obviously- I'm a little wonky. The Bad Boy is ~~way more~~ slightly wonkier than I am. This makes for some interesting convo's as I have so shamelessly blogumented about before... Some times I forewarn him. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes he will end one of our ~~arguments~~ very civilized and grown up discussions with 'Whatever, why don't you just go blog about it???' So, at this point I kinda figure that was like 'permission X infinity' to remain pretty uncensored in blog world. Lucky you, huh? (Shut up, stop with the gagging dry heaving noises. Sheesh. Gross.)

OR maybe it's just that we have lived in lovely, heaven on earth (AKA: Bakersfield) for too long. Not much to do here. Well, unless you head three-four hours in any direction out of town. (It's a good place to like, stop for gas if your driving through California's central valley. If your really on 'E' and all I mean.) Anyway, seemingly normal, simple everyday things can often be overwhelmingly exciting for us here.

'Yo, dude, I am supposed to be getting a package in the mail. DO. NOT. TOUCH. IT. It's mine. And it's coming from a foreign country and I want to open it, OK?'

'Really? A foreign country? When? Whats in it? If it's there I am sooo opening it.'

'Look assface, keep your grubby hands off of it. It's just a necklace from Etsy. Don't you dare effing touch it. Seriously. I'll cut you.'

'C'mon, Ash. Please? I never get anything cool in the mail. And never anything from a foreign country. Just let me open it...'

'No, dude. Get your own crap. Sheesh. And it's a federal offense to open someone else's light packet you know.'

'Light what???'

'Ugh. 'Light Packet'- that's Canadian for "Mail for Ashley- Keep your effin' hands off". '

'So.... Canada, huh? That's your exciting mail from a foreign country???'

'Shut up. Seriously. And don't you dare open it.'

'I will try to control myself, Canadian Mail Nazi. You, by the way, are SOOO retarded.'

I told you, we are wonky. And no, it hasn't come yet. At least I don't think it has. The Bad Boy has this annoying habit of playing pranks on me with mail. Especially if he knows I am really excited to get whatever it is I'm waiting for. He's all like 'Nope, nothin' for you. Maybe they sent it to the wrong place, kiddo?' He walks away laughing and then whips out whatever it is from his closet or nightstand. 'Came last week. Still want it?' Hmm. Yeah. He effin' sucks sometimes. I know.

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The Foofy Saga's Cont'd

2009-10-10T17:48:00.000-07:00

- I had to get a physical and drug tested ('You mean, like, to tell me which meds I SHOULD be on?? I'm OK with that...') for the county this week. The phlebotomist (bless her heart) announces to me as she enters the room this is her 'first solo day drawing blood'. GREAT.

Then she just stood there. Staring at me. And the tray with all her equipment on it.

'Ahem. Um... Lets get your gloves on, OK Honey??'

'Oh, yeah. Gloves. Yup. OK. Wow, you have tiny veins. Really, little. This will be good practice for me.'

'Hmm. Yeah. You get one stick, toots. ONE.'

(Did I tell you I have little veins. LITTLE. TINY. Seriously. Hmm. And I hate needles. (SHUT UP.) I know I work in health care. I DON'T CARE. I can handle YOU being stuck and bleeding. That's you. NOT ME. Anyway, you will never have to worry about me and my tiny ass veins ever abusing IV meds. EVER.)

-Have y'all ever gone to a 'Disney on Ice' thing? Sigh. I can now say that I have. 'Disney Princesses on Ice' to be exact. (Knuckle bumps to the MIL. Thank you, doll face.) I really didn't know what to expect.
A. I have never seen so many princesses in my whole life. And by that I am referring to the audience. It was like a midget princess convention. SERIOUSLY.
B. When the music and lights came on- holy eff' you would have thought we were at a very PG version of a Chippendale's show or something. (PLEASE- can you imagine Goofy's ass in a THONG??? Eww gross visual. Hwuagh...). Anyway...All that screaming. Some were crying. Some little girls were trying to climb. on. to. the. ice. Seriously.
C. I still can't get the 'Oh, Ariel!!! Ariel!!!' and 'Its Cinderella!! It's really Cinderella!!' screams out of my head. (OK the whole thing was actually pretty cool. Like a good trashy romance novel. Only less trashy. And less 'throbbing member' and all....)

-Our estrogen filled house has entered a new phase of estrogen overload. SLEEPOVERS.
It was Lily's first one. The giggling stopped at 11:30pm and resumed at 6:00am. (Yeah, The Bad Boy is all 'We are NEVER doing that again.' Um.... OK, Dude. This is just the beginning. Duh???) And as I lay in bed listening to the girls talking and giggling... It made me smile. Reminded me of my nights at the Bennion's or the Packard's. Of having good girlfriends and growing up. Reminded me that Lily is not my little babe anymore. She has her 'friends' now. They call each other and stuff. Share secrets. Its like I see now how fast it all goes... although I don't think the 'sleeping in/not wanting breakfast at 6am time' cannot come fast enough. I am SOOO not a morning person.

XOXO ad

An 'Almost Kidnapping'

2009-10-02T08:47:00.000-07:00

The Bad Boy picked up Lily from school for me yesterday. (I was at a J.O.B interview... more on that later***) Anyway- Lily's school pick/up drop off 'designated areas' are set up kinda wonky. Ok, it's effing annoying. This grade at this gate, this grade at this gate and so on and so on. Now, in theory it sounds nice- not one big centralized 'traffic jam' area at 2:20pm- right???? Well... maybe it could be. But is seems that who is going to open which gate is never quite coordinated. ('Me??? Have a gate key??? Yeah, but it's not for your gate. Sorry.') So inevitably everyday, there is a gap of time from when the kiddos are released from class to the time someone actually unlocks the 'designed to keep nasty pedophiles/weird Uncle Harry's out forever' gates. (The scene is always kinda like prison release everyday- on one side the anxiously awaiting pick-up'er and on the other- the beaming, not so clean and shiny as when you dropped em' off pick-up'ee. Or is it just my kid that smells/looks like a combination of a wet dog and a teenage boy after digging irrigation ditches all day??? 'What the eff did you do??? Roll around in the dirt??' )

Hmm. Ok wait, where was I ??? Oh yeah, The Bad Boy picking up Lily.

So, she's not there. At the gate, I mean. And he is on the phone FREAKIN' out. 'Where the hell is she??? Ash, what was she wearing today?? 'Cos she is NOT here. What the hell??? Ash, I can't talk now.' (That was the censored PG version. The real deal was MUCH more potty mouthed sailor colorful.)

About ten minutes later (we live about a block from her school) they come home. Lily is sobbing. SOBBING. And The Bad Boy is FUMING.

'She was at the front office. 'Cos her little friends 'told' her to go there. So she was there and then we got locked. in. the. school. And I was carryin' Liv and she was all floppy all over. And it was hot. And WE GOT LOCKED IN.'

'And he yelled at me!!! A lot!!'

I am instantly in ref mode... Getting a choppy, volleyed account of what happened from them. Lily is still sobbing and wailing of course and then I notice The Bad Boy's eyes. They are all misty. (Insert 'Awwwww' Here...)

'I thought she was kidnapped or something. It scared the eff' out of me. I was panicking bad. Seriously. It scared the shit out of me. I couldn't find her and the school was basically deserted. I thought she was gone and holy eff' it scared me.'

Its a side of The Bad Boy I/we don't see all time. In our estrogen overfilled house, he is kinda the token dude in our midst. All rough and gruff. I have never seen him panicked like that. Its a look I have seen in my self from time to time the last 7+ years... 'Parenthood'. Welcome to the club, turbo. Your membership is in affect for basically the REST of your kids lives. Enjoy. Use the mini-bar sparingly.

(*** Why Montser.com can kiss my ASS:
Round 1. Unannounced hallway ambush complete with a card and Starbucks moola.
Round 2. Follow up phone call(s) and another unannounced hallway ambush- this time with cookies.
Round 3. Interview (cleavage-free and all professional-like). The hours and pay are even better than what I had been hopin' for. I start in the next two weeks :) :) :) Can I give a shout out and nod to the Big Guy for answerin' many, many a hard core prayer???)

XOXO ad

Hairbow Me, Baby

2009-09-28T19:09:00.000-07:00

Liv has gone from a roley-poley, wicked crazy lazy fat kid at camp, butt scooter to full on crawling in about a day. Ok. not just crawling. Its like if you were running... but your not 'cos your like on all fours ya know... she's that fast. And she's a stalker too... no matter where ~~you~~ errrrr, I go- she is there. I am constantly stepping over her, on her, banging my shines against her grinning, drooling bobble head. (I really try not to walk into her face... but I am still tryin' to get used to her bein' MOBILE and all...)

So, Sunday, we errr... I (in the tradition of Mommyhood- I always end up getting myself dressed and dolled up last... after running around the house cleaning, feeding, and referee-ing everyone else into 'ReadyToGoMode') was getting ready to head to church and to 'Incredible John's Pizza' for Lily's B-Day party after...

And of course, Liv comes barrelling down the hallway to find me since its been all of 5 seconds since she has seen me last. I notice her hair immediately. Its the handy work of The Bad Boy.

'Um, Liv, what happened to your hair???!!! You look like a point-dexter!! This is not so much cute cowgirl!! Her hair has been crookedly parted in the middle and like, slicked down flat against the sides of her head. Hmm. The Bad Boy goes 'What? Its combed.' Hmm.

I am grateful for his attempt to help lighten my load. I really am. But it is also at this moment that I realize- I can never die and leave my little girls motherless. They would be forced to wander the earth with effed' up bowless 'Erckle' hair. (I HEART HAIRBOWS.) I don't mean to be all shallow and vain. But I also know I am girly. I love getting all dolled up and I have seemed to pass on my girliness to my girls. (Sucks for The Bad Boy. Hard. Yeah, no football players here, kiddo.) Sometimes I even coordinate color schemes so we all match. (SHUT UP.) In. color. scheme. only. Sheesh.

I am sooo blessed to have my girls... I love them so.

XOXO ad

Goodbye September, Hello Return of PEACE...

2009-09-27T18:09:00.000-07:00

I would like to say that I handle stress well, I think I actually used to (and I still do... just not at home with my children or The Bad Boy) but ever since the birth of my second child... I don't know... it's like I am an ultra planner/organizer/thingshavetheirplaceandgothere... almost to the point of like OCD. And I hit my 'StressedOutScaryMom' mode much faster than in my 'pre-Liv days'... Maybe have I just finally arrived into full on 'Motherhood'? Anyway... if your like me, in my post childhood not so much a great stress handler personality morph- NEVER, NEVER have your wedding anniversary and the birthdays of your children (yes, all of them) in one month. Its to much to process all in 30 days (or however the hell many days September has) to much planning, presents, parties and fighting the urge to self medicate myself with sangria and chocolate...

Side Note... To all of my Buddies/Family/Stalkers out there on the net... think your happiest thoughts ever for me that KMC will pick me up. Many prayers, Starbucks gift cards and Chocolate Chip Cookies are being invested into schmoozing' my way into this facility... you didn't really think I would get a great job based on my education/brain smarts/clinical abilities alone did you??? ;)

XOXO ad

Liv's Birthday

2009-09-23T09:36:00.000-07:00

Ok so, I know its not the actual day of (sucky mom syndrome).. and this stupid Nigerian scammer virus (I just call it that... We have yet to take my lap top in... Sigh. I know. For bein' like home all the time it sure feels like I don't get a lot done.) has so hijacked my ability to up load pictures from her 'party'. Anyway. Liv turned one on Monday. And as fast as the first year went by- I can also say, I'm so glad the newborn stage passed so smoothly... and quickly. I don't love the whole wakeupinthemiddleofthenight18milliontimes stage. I do love this little babe though...
-she is FINALLY crawling.
-she is a total chocolate chip cookie killer (Thank you Auntie Summer for workin' your magic).
- she is still my rockstar sleeper 7 to 7. Thank you God. Seriously I may be a naughty sinner lady but he has seen fit to bless me with a good sleeper...
-she loves music and is a total hip hop dancer wanna be. (Think more 'Elaine' from Seinfeld).
-she adores her big sister.
-she is WAY girlie. Yup. Already. (The Bad Boy thinks I have cursed him...)

I promise to post some pictures just as soon as I get off my lazy ass and take the lap top in. And the next post will sooo be about our girls weekend in the Bay Area...

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Honesty of a home grown FMT...

2009-09-14T16:42:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure if it was on our wedding day... or after that this convo about relationships and marriage took place. This Hubs and Wifey have a yoursmineandours type marriage. They were very candid with The Bay Boy and I about what we were really getting into with a blended family and in reality, just marriage in general.

Wifey: I mean, yes, I love him. I think he is a great father and a great husband. BUT- it's still hard. Marriage is the HARDEST thing I have ever done. It takes time and work.

Hubs: And we love each other. We are best friends. Imagine how hard it would be if you didn't have that connection and bond with each other???

Wifey: Exactly. Even with our strong love for each other, there are times when I am sooo mad at him I'll yell, 'God, I just want to smash your face in with a baseball bat!!!'

Hubs: Yup. And I tell her go ahead. Please. Put me out of my misery.

Is it bad that I can so identify with that?

xoxo ad

Awww shucks y'all...

2009-09-10T09:02:00.000-07:00

As y'all know I'm pretty new to blogging- hence I'm sure I break all sorts of 'blogging etiquette' (whining about motherhood, using inappropriate language, venting about my imperfect marriage, and I'm sure there are more.) But still, I blog. It might not always be pretty and honestly- it's not even meant to be funny half the time. Its just my view on my life. My 'zone out time', since lets face it- I can't be trashed on pills, chocolate and sangria 24/7. Anyway, to those of who read the posts, I heart you. For reals. There are no words. (At least that I'm smart enough to string together.) And now I even get an award??? Aww shucks!!! Thanks Lynn!! You. Are. A. Blogger. Rock star. I heart you. Y'all should go check out her blog, S3x In The Pantry.

'The blogger who receives this award believes in the Tao of the zombie chicken – excellence, grace and persistence in all situations, even in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. These amazing bloggers regularly produce content so remarkable that their readers would brave a raving pack of zombie chickens just to be able to read their inspiring words. As a recipient of this world-renowned award, you now have the task of passing it on to other worthy bloggers.

So, I'm passin' some Zombie Chicken Lovin' on to:

Admin over at Mommy Brained. She is also a rock star blogger lady. I. heart. You. Please. don't. ever. stop. blogging.

Lacey at Where you go, there I will be. Yes, I know she's my sister. (Yes, I know. I obviously got the left over genes. That's what happens when your the youngest of four girls... I'm kidding, I love you Mom.) She as always, is my mentor, model and goal.

XOXO ad

Way yummos and notes to self

2009-09-09T23:30:00.000-07:00

Lets start with my 'WAY Yummos' - 'cos lets face it, I AM half retarded here and will 'prolly forget everything I'm wanting tell y'all/myself for posterity's sake...

I am not a Josh Groban fan.... like at all... (Like, I spelled his name right, right?? That's how not a fan I am of the boy) BUT have y'all heard that song 'Awake'? Hmm... I am a compulsive song listener. Like, I have been known to listen to the same song, over and over and over for hmmm... sometimes days... sometimes weeks.... (Yes, The Bad Boy wants to shoot his face off when I do this. I have put him through Akon, Imogen Heap, and yes even Britany Spears. SHUT UP. She has some good dance songs, Dude.) Anyway, the point is- that song- its pretty hard core awesome. Now, don't like go and tell anyone I said that... I mean, it's still Josh Groban we are talkin' about here

GLEE IS BACK (Really are there anymore more words to add to that??? Other than if you don't know what I'm talkin' about OR if you don't watch it- did you hit your head??? Just stop yourself and watch it. Please. It's Glee. HOW CAN YOU NOT????)

Note to self: DONT EVER LET YOURSELF GET ALL FAT AND LARDO ASS AGAIN.

I have started working out. (SHUT UP) Actually, I only walk/jog on the treadmill/elliptical. And yes, my ass wiggled more than my boobs. ( Seriously, SHUT UP) That's when you know you are in 'WAY FATTY GIRL LAND'. So, I have decided that, The Bad Boy is gettin' way to into this whole chubby girl thing... (Ok fine, he's pretty much a full blown a Chubby Chaser. And don't think that I'm knockin' him for it.... I am actually way, WAY blessed that I have a hub who is soooo understanding of my weight gain.) I just feel bad... 'cos like he shouldn't have to be a Chubby Chaser- bless his little Bad Boy heart.

Do y'all like my goal pictures??? Yeah, not so much realistic I know... Anyway... I will never be a size two, this I know. But I would like to get back to where I was when I met The Bad Boy. (And besides, isn't working out and stuff supposed to like release some chemical in your body that gives you like a natural high or something??? I could use that. Does it feel like sangria?? Or chocolate?? HEY. I said I was working out- not DIETING. Sheesh...)

Ps. Sorry for the crappy photo layout. Sigh. Stupid nigerian scammer virus or something has eff'ed up my laptop... UGH. SOOOO eff'ing frustrating!! Anyway... 'til it's fixed=no more pretty picasa pictures.

Pps. Note on the note to self: Don't forget to work out today :)

XOXO ad

Why NOT to use the Fridge as a dayplanner...

2009-09-04T18:32:00.000-07:00

Monday-
Lily: Mommy, Mrs. Hart says we have a minimum day on Wednesday and Back to School Night is Thursday night at 6pm. Here's a note she said to give to you to remind you. Want me to put it on the fridgerator?
Me: Um, yeah, uh huh, OK, Wookie. On the fridge. Half day Wed, Back to School Night Thursday. Got it.

Tuesday-
Lily: Mommy, we made goldfish today. You can see it at back to school night. Remember that's on Thursday.
Me: Yup. And you only have half a day tomorrow.
Lily: Don't forget to pick me up after early lunch Mom.
Me: Lily, I will be there.

Wednesday-
12:18pm Cell phone rings. I screen it, OF COURSE, since I don't recognize the number.
12:26pm Cell phone rings again, same number.
Me: Hello?
Lily: Mom!??! Where are you? I've been waiting and waiting at the gate. Why didn't you pick me up??
Me: OHHH, shit!! You had a half day... I'm coming, I'm coming. Wait for me in the office, do not move.
Lily: OK. And Mom?? You said a bad word.

Hmm. So, I promise, I AM THE EFFIN PARENT here. Like a good, responsible, highly functioning parent. I just don't always remember when and where my kids should be. I mean, I know I signed on to be a mom... I just wonder if my girls would have signed on to HAVE me be their mom.

(Come to think of it- has anyone seen Liv??? Its been a few days.... Hmmm.... I'm kidding, I'm kidding....)
XOXO ad

Piece of Humble House Pie- Mm Mmm GOOD!!!

2009-08-31T20:29:00.000-07:00

Hey, y'all... if your bored or need somethin' to help put you to sleep tonight or your like stalkin' me on the net and just want to know EVERYTHING little thing I'm up to- head over to Humble House Stories.

And even if you think I suck at writing- well, I have now proved that I can in fact blog without cussin', makin' fun of The Bad Boy and ranting about how 'its-ONLY-4pm-and-Mama-needs-a-drink'...

xoxo ad

The Bad Boy Baby Gyno Convo...

2009-08-29T18:54:00.000-07:00

Liv had a well baby check up this week. Result of said Dr's visit were that Liv needs to lay off the sweet potatoes and carrots... Too much Vitamin A I guess can be a bad thing. (But so can not even noticing your own baby turning yellow... Hmm, yeah I need to work on bein' not such a-shitty-mom. I know. Hey, at least I make sure she sees her Dr. regularly. And I haven't like loaned her out in exchange for crack or anything.)

Anyway, the no more Vitamin A thing for the next 3 to 4 weeks required a trip to the grocery store to fill Liv's baby food cupboard with Vitamin A FREE food.

Now of course EVERYTHING pretty much has a Vitamin A rich food listed as the first ingredient. GREAT. This makes shopping for me hard 'cos like now I really have to look at the labels and read shit and ugh... its just very 'Involved Mom' for me...

Of course, The Bad Boy is the perfect victim to text my anger out on over the difficulties in the baby food isle.

11:25 Me: This SUCKS. EVERYTHING has stuff she can't have!!

11:26 Me: EFF!!! Even her Mac'n' Cheese has carrots!!

11:28 The Bad Boy: I'm sorry Babe. Do you wanna call her gyno? Ask him what else we should do??

11:32 Me: Call her who?? Her what??

11:35 The Bad Boy: You know Liv's gyno. The one who told you to cut out the Vit. A???

11:39 Me: Umm. Liv doesn't have a GYNO. LOL LOL LOL She has a PEDIATRICIAN.

11:40 The Bad Boy: SHUT UP. She has been seein' once since she was born. Remember in the hospital???

11:42 Um... that was MY gyno helping to take her out of my Va Jay Jay. LOL LOL You idiot. LOL LOL

11:44 The Bad Boy: So..... she doesn't have a gyno??

(I know. I know. How the eff am I supposed to respond to that without sounding condescending or laughing hysterically???)

(Side note:
To the makers of Gerber, Beechnut and the likes:
Why the EFF do y'all use carrots as a filler in EVERYTHING??? And if its not carrots its squash or corn or sweet potatoes. Seriously- what kind of mother do you think I am??? The kind that like pays attention to what her kids eat??? I can barely feed her properly as it is from your convenient little jars. OBVIOUSLY. So seriously WTF??)

And sorry for the recent flood of The Bad Boy Convos. I just can't help it. The boy effin' cracks me up. He is a vast wealth of humorous bloggin'...

XOXO ad

Did you get your new Xanax too???

2009-08-26T12:21:00.000-07:00

I love school. I realized this week that like, I wish we had year round school here. Like the more I think about it- the more I kinda feel jipped. No, I AM GETTING JIPPED. (Who the eff thought 3 months off every year was a good idea???) I should write to someone... like the school district, my state government, the FDA (just think of how drastically prescriptions for Xanax would decrease...) The peace and quiet that now is our home from the hours of 7:45am to 2:20pm is way way WAY more potent and addicting than any prescription drug could ever be. Ever even HOPE to be.

I mean I still have Liv (AKA Smackdown Drama Queenie) but I am in awe at how the noise level has decreased by sending my two (*snickering) bigger kids back to school. How could I forget this calmness??? Why wasn't I just as excited for school to start as Lily was???

You know what else I love? Autumn. Yeah, so what it hasn't officially started yet and yeah its still 1600 degrees outside (Lovely desert armpit capital of the world... hmm ok, no, not really lovely- more like effin' sucky). Its 'Back To School Time' and dammit that means falling leaves and shiny red apples and knit sweaters from the Gap and stuff. September starts next week and that means, my pretty, that we are only getting closer to nice 'cool' weather.... Ooohhhh, maybe all the way down to 80 degrees!! Oooooh, maybe I won't burn my fat sausage hands on the steering wheel anymore???!!

Sigh... soon enough, right? RIGHT???

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Church, a black speedo and school...

2009-08-23T01:06:00.000-07:00

Since today is Sunday, this post was originally supposed to inform 'yall how our family has started attending church. (GASP!?!?! And no, the building didn't burst into flames when we entered... sheesh, c'mon now...) Then I stayed up til about 4:30am (I am tryin' to slowly acclimate myself to the hours for night shift) and so even though we attend the noon service (Yeah, so 'effin what? We are not morning people, ok??) we decided to play hookie today. So much for my big 'We is church goin' folk 'yall' post... Tsk,tsk I know...

Actually, it was Lily who got us into goin'.

Lily. My little Buttface Basketcase Lily. She drives me nuts. (Actually I think she drives me to my nightly cocktails... but that's besides the point and prolly a different post) Lily who has been soooo tremendously hard for me lately... loves church. She had been goin' off and on with my sweet FIL (Father-In-Law) and it finally got to the point that The Bad Boy and I decided it was something we should do as a family (See, I can be a not-completely-shitty-mom sometimes...).

(The Bad Boy: Ashley, shut up. You don't go 'cos its a ' good family thing', you go 'cos your paranoid about child molesters and pedophiles.

Me: Well? Um, hello??? Is that not a valid concern?

The Bad Boy: You watch to much TV. Really, no more Law and Order SVU, you freakin' Anti-Christ.)

That's really NOT the ONLY reason I go.

The church we attend has the acronym 'VBF'. It's member are known as the 'VB-effers'... (Hahaha she said 'VB-effers!!' I know.. I know. I don't know why but it makes laugh inappropriately...) Anyhoo.. thats not the other reason I go either... It seems to be a good thing for all of us. Yeah, I'm sure we could all use some savin' in our home. A little bit of calm and spirit and a nod to The Big Guy upstairs. Little bit of JesusHolyGhostGod mojo flowin' amid the 3 princess puffs and our adopted and reluctant prince. Especially as The Bad Boy and Lily start the school year tomorrow... Sigh.

Can I send my little clan off into the world sportin' some Satan protection like this?? (I guess I could have them wear the cross to. That could help.)

So, it's off to church and school we go...

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The Bad Boy Convo's (part 245)

2009-08-19T12:57:00.000-07:00

The Bad Boy: Fine, your right, ok?? I dressed differently when we were dating... But I got scammed too!

Me: Oh yeah? And how is that???

The Bad Boy: 'Cos you were all- 'Look at me, I'm Ashley, I'm like the nice sweet girl next door and I have big boobs and I want to help sick people. I bake and I like children.' I sooo got scammed into thinking you were this nice, sweet, loving girl.

Me: Who? Me??? I am sooo not 'nice and sweet'.

The Bad Boy: Well,duh I know that now!!

Me: WOW. You mean you actually bought that? You really thought I was this nice, sweet girl??? Whats wrong with you??!

The Bad Boy: SEE, I told you I. GOT. SCAMMED!! And it's really what drew me to you in the first place...

Me: Awww, you were sooo naive!! That's so sweet Babes, really how cute!! Hell and all this time I thought it was 'cos I had big boobs...

XOXO ad

Food Porn and Ina

2009-08-14T19:06:00.000-07:00

'Yall, I was getting dressed. And those of you that know me- know this is a time consuming, powder puffing, hair teasing, product covering bathroom counter affair. Sorry, but not all of us are born hot naturally. I on the other hand, thank God every day I was born a sexy, hot MILF lady and I just have to 'enhance' a little :)

Oh, calm down I'm just kidding.

Anyway, so I am gettin' dressed, Lily is off playing in fantasy land in her room and The Bad Boy and Liv are out in the living room watching TV.

At least that's what I thought they were doing.

'Oh, my you are soooo bad.' I vaguely register as I wrap another section of hair around the barrel of my 430 degree curling iron (yeah, sometimes it makes my hair like, smoke.)

'Oh, yeah that's it... Oooohhhh!!! That's goooood!!!' At this last outburst, I am now quietly sneaking down the hallway to the living room- a little nervous as to what I am going to find The Bad Boy watching while my sweet and innocent (still wayyy fat-kid-lazy-not-crawling-at-all) 11 month old baby plays right there on the carpet with her toys.

'Yeah, yeah give it to me... OMG that's perfect... You are a bad girl, aren't you??!!'

'WHAT ARE YOU WATCHING??!!!' I come tearing around the corner screaming.

'This Contessa show... she's making Lobster Pot Pies. She is.... really... oh, my watch her face when she talks about the food... that looks soooo good, huh?? Oh, yes, come cook for Daddy...' The Bad Boy by the way hasn't even taken his eyes off the screen, off of the sweet chubby faced Ina Garten, AKA The Barefoot Contessa. 'Hey, she keeps talking about some guy named 'Jefferey'. Who the hell is he, this 'Jefferey' person??? I don't like her talking about him.'

'Ummm, okay... 'Jefferey' you freak- is her HUSBAND. And Liv is out here, so like control yourself or the food porn goes off, ok, Chubby Chaser??'

I love her too, though. Like, if I were a man I would so marry her radiant, fresh cheeked chubby face. I don't like the chefs that are all skinny and waif-like. Can't trust 'em. No effin' way. So, like you're a chef and what you just never eat your own food??? Um, yeah not so much. You go right on ahead Ina, dirty food porn girl you. In our house you are two thumbs up YUMMO.

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Mr. Yummy and the majority rules...

2009-08-11T21:31:00.000-07:00

Our home is loud. Maybe we are just loud people in general- walkers, talkers, and laughers so hard you snort and tears come to your eyes. Sometimes there is yelling, sometimes there is laughter... sometimes things get colorful. Our lives are pretty close to the posts here- loud, unfiltered and in many ways a "this is probably how you should NOT parent" road map for 'yall out there.

Like, you know when that trailer for the new GI JOE movie comes on... (RANDOM, I know...) I uncontrollably ignore the tornado of wild messy children running around me and I am alone in my mind with Channing Tatum... If you don't know who he is- do yourself a favor and Google him. NOW. I promise, it's wayyy worth it.... wait what am I saying? Screw that. Here, have a present. Take a moment. Enjoy. Yeah, I know. I love you too....

'Why Hellllooo, Mr. Yummy...' SEE???, I have no control of that coming out of my mouth even as The Bad Boy rolls his eyes and makes fake gagging noises back at me and my Mr. Yummy... 'Hey Dude, just stop yourself. Your ruining my moment, ok???'

Yeah, I am drooling too. I TOLD YOU.

Anyway, we are loud and uncensored. And probably a little crude. ALL of us. Sigh. Examples you say?? Ok- Lily's nick name is 'Buttface', yes when we are in public too... Liv's new 'trick' is this rabid-dog-like-foaming-bubble-spitting thing... really, its not so cute. And me... sometimes our house is my nudist colony. (Hey, stop judging me. At least I am tan. And B- I think The Bad Boy is secretly a Chubby Chaser anyway. And lastly- its MY damn house.) We three girls with our token male on our island. (And yes our token male is reminded often he can be voted off... I mean, we only keep him around to carry the heavy stuff anyway... right?)

In all reality, I sometimes feel kinda almost sorta bad for The Bad Boy. I can't imagine his estrogen overloaded (did I mention even our cat is female??) environment is always easy to endure. Hell, even I drink to put up with us... the 'women' in our home I mean. The 'Smack Downs' with Lily- who lets face it is as tough as 'Stuart' from MAD TV. The crying- sometimes 'Just 'cos I am, ok???' and the trying times of waiting for us to 'get ready', only to come out 90 minutes later saying 'I don't want to go anymore. I'm to fat and my hair sucks.'

The Bad Boy responds with his standard 'Baby, you are beautiful and your 80's rock star hair is perfect.'

This of course is preceded by a slamming door and 'MY WHAT HAIR???!!!!! Shut your dirty mouth you Assface!! I HATE YOU!!' (Now, don't spaz out. This is how we normally talk to each other. He is laughing and I am pretending to sulk. What? You can't you feel the love??)

He is outnumbered. He knows it. We know it. And as Liv gets older and develops her personality more... he see his dreams of her bein' a tom-boy slipping away one whiny girly drama queen squawk at a time. Now, not only is The Bad Boy outnumbered- its by a group of loud, opinionated, mouthy women. I know. I feel bad... for a moment and then my short attention span kicks in...

Now, back to Channing 'Mr. Yummy' Tatum...

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'Cos I'm a Meany

2009-08-09T19:06:00.000-07:00

The Bad Boy and I had a convo recently in which somehow the question came up "What is your secret dream?" (No, you pervy not like that kind of dream...)

I answered of course without missing a beat like the wonderful mother that I am: to go back in time and be the "Before Ashley Had Kids Ashley". (Although, in reality my secret dream list is vast and long... with things like to get Botox on my forehead and have the metabolism of a skinny girl.... you get the point- my list is pretty much full of shallow and self centered desires. Hello??? I mean this is ME we are talking about here. Lets face it, I AM self centered and shallow and generally have the mouth of a cold hearted Beeotch Lady.)

Anyway, think how much fun it was to be all wild and like, not put the laundry away right out of the dryer? Or to be able to eat dinner at 10 o'clock at night 'cos you came home and took a nap right after work? Hmmm, ok honestly Lily is almost 7 so like, I really don't even remember life pre-mommyhood at this point.

Now, as much as I bitch and moan about the girls and The Bad Boy... and my life in general- I am also very, very blessed and I know it. Yeah, I come off like all "I'm tough, I'll sell you my kid like, to get a make over with the money and then get buzzed everyday before noon, I am a fiesty Beeotch Lady...."

(Yeah, not so much. The only 'fiesty' you'll really see out of me is if you touch one of my girls then the Momma Bear comes out and I will sooo effin' shank you.... Hmm, unless your like, bigger than me I mean. I bruise easy ya' know...)

And now I've got the button to prove it. Check out my "Mean Mommy Bragging Rights" button in my sidebar. This of course is thanks to Camryn, over here at MMU.

Oh, yeah I'm a 'Mean Mommy' and proud of it. We don't eff around here folks. Drinks and food are to be consumed at the kitchen table if you are under the age of 10 (however if you are just a really messy adult you get the same rule, too.) Only one toy out at a time and put your things away WHERE THEY GO (or I will sooo throw your crap out, you slobs...) And bed time is 7:30 every night, maybe 8:00 if you haven't driven me want to chug a bottle of wine all day... and as always, I want an unlimited supply of raspberry kisses and hugs for when ever I effin' want...

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Why I suck at Motherhood (part 615)

2009-08-03T19:21:00.000-07:00

Liv is like a way good sleeper. Like, all of 'yall with babies that suck at the whole sleeping thing- don't read the next paragraph. For reals. I mean, I don't want to brag about my little sleeper rock star of a babe... but OMG I'm sooo glad she's a good sleeper!!

Her typical day- wake up at 8am, 2 hour nap at 10am, another 2 hour nap at like 1ish and then she goes down for the night at 7ish. Yeah, I mean down. for. the. count. Like 'Yo, Ma- where's a Ba-ba and my sucky blankey??? 'Cos its like, 6:26pm ya know...' So, she like spends A LOT of time in her crib. Now, I know this won't be too surprising considering this kid is wicked crazy LAZY like a fat kid at sport camp- but she's not crawling. Liv is OVER 10 months old now and has yet to even attempt the whole on all fours thing.

She rolls. Like a worm. Like a chubby, smiling, girly squawking, thunder thighed wormy. So, up until now, her crib mattress has still been set to the highest peg. ' Cos like, c'mon lets be honest- this kid has more chance of eating her way though the mattress than lifting herself up over the crib railing. Anyway, in my attempt to like create some 'Oooh, this is different maybe I should try MOVING' motivation, I moved the mattress in her crib down to the lowest peg possible.

I AM a genius Mother. Awards and accolades will come at some point I'm sure.

Fast forward, Liv's sucky blankey and bedding freshly cleaned, crib put back together and it's 6:24pm. It's time. Ba-ba made, Liv in PJ's and sleepy music CD is on. Insert babe into crib.

Then I look at the wall her crib is against. An electrical socket and a cable socket thingy that were once covered up by the mattress are now right. effin'. there. Perfect for her little sausage fingers to 'eff around with. Grrreat.

The Bad Boy is called to the room.

'What's that?' he asks.

'Shit, that's not good to have that there, huh?' I ask and then curse again.

'Well, as long as she doesn't like, get her fingers wet and put 'em in there I think we will be ok', he says staring at the wall and then Liv.

'Hmm.....No, I think even if they are dry its not a good thing.'

'Ok, well let's just move her crib, Ash."

'NO!! Are you crazy?? Then the wall art will be all off center with the crib!!'

A mad dash was made to the 'The Hobit Hole' (AKA our master bedroom closet) the place where all things needed to fix any and all emergencies can be found. Of course we had this random piece of particle board wood thingy... (The Bad Boy goes 'What's that from?' And I'm all 'I don't know and I don't care 'cos like its the perfect size.') Sigh, yes the crisis has been averted, Houston. So, like yeah I know. I'm an AWESOME Mom. I'm like the effin' Mom of the Year... For reals. Like, 'yall should take notes.

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The Bad Boy and a vaccum in my head...

2009-07-31T19:36:00.000-07:00

So, The Hub had a play date this afternoon. With like some sports memorabilia "Guru Guy". Folks, this man to me is a GODSEND. The Hub met the "Guru Guy" at his home away from home- The Baseball Card store. I could SERIOUSLY kiss his feet- the "Guru Guy's" not The Hub's.

(And for 'yall that don't know this about me- I can't stand feet. ESPECIALLY MAN Feet. Yuck. Hwuaghhhhh.... gagging and almost puking at just the thought of Man Feet... OK, fine NOT all Man Feet are gross. Just the hairy and chapped and kucky lookin' ones... those produce the gag reflexes...)

Anyway, this dear, sweet, angel of a "Guru Guy" has saved me from a near certain fate of endless, comatosing bouts of "Hey, Ash, wanna look at my football cards?"

...............

...............

...............

Sorry... See???? Even typing that question put me into an almost vegetative state... It's like a great white noise, a "whoosing" sound that engulfs me through both ears and hums... Like having a vacuum in your head. Now, don't get me wrong- it's not unpleasant, to me at least. I think it's my natural ~~the female sex is superior to the male sex~~ human survival instinct kicking into gear. An abyss of nothingness. To The Hub of course it's quite a nuisance- this zoning out and unintelligible series of half grunts that answers the above mentioned question.

So, seriously "Guru Guy" I. Love. You. Please, don't move away or die or like do anything else effin' crazy that would affect your ability to have play dates with The Hub. Seriously.

Another Note Of Interest: The Hub will from here on out be christened as and know as....
The Bad Boy

He's got the tat's... the "I ain't effin' scared of anything" attitude... and he's like a big guy. 6'2 and like 250... and he's got the over sized football jersey and Dickie's ghetto thug look down. SO, yup... He's a bad boy. I tried to tell him there are many angles of the "Bad Boy" look. (See, secretly I am tryin' to steer him toward the more "Rocker Bad Boy" look. Like, one the boys from Daisy of ~~Slutty Ho Land~~ Love Show. I mean yeah, the black eye liner and man make up are a little over the top but we don't have to go that far. I'd settle for a black T-shirt with some good fitting vintage jeans and rocker boots.) YUMMO. Sigh.

I guess once I start lookin' like her... (minus the spastic speech and nasty hair I mean..) we can concentrate more on The Bad Boy's rocker make over.... I better get to work on the illicit drug use and plastic surgery...

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No Warning

2009-07-28T23:32:00.000-07:00

I don't know if this is a compliment.

"Hey, so Ash... you know Napoleon Dynamite? Your like a girl version of him. Like, if he had a sister that's sooo you I mean."

Hmm. So, thanks. Have I moved up from "Wow, you know you look a lot like Monica Lewinsky??!"

Oh, so random Note of Interest: Did I tell 'yall I get to go to traffic court tomorrow? Yup, yup. I got a $128 ticket (this is the first blip of ANYTHING on my DMV in like 7 years... and yes I'm dorky enough to be proud of a clean DMV record) for "not wearing my seat belt properly" and no, there is NO effin' way I'm gonna just write a check and forget about it. A. I'm still unemployed**. B. I HAD IT ON. C. If anyone should have to pay- it should be the Hub since it was HIS presence in the car that prevented me from flashin' some cleavage, a smile and flirting my way out of said $128 ticket. D. WTF happened to the "I'll let you off with a warning" kinda Cop??? Where did they go????

"Is it 'cos I look like Napoleon Dynamite's Sister, Officer?"

** Another Note of Interest: I have been offered two jobs (I know, about effin' time, huh??!! I was perilously close to like stabbing myself in the face...) Anyway, one is full time at a sleep lab and the other part time a hospital. The only downside is that neither would start until the end of Aug. Sigh... I know. But hey, I am grateful. And OMG I'm sooooo excited!!

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Not your G-Ma's Green Thumb

2009-07-26T10:47:00.000-07:00

So, Lily learned about plants- strawberries to be more specific- in school right before summer break. And I, of course, trying to cultivate some hobbies for the summer- aside from the 25 hours a day of watching Disney Chanel (really Hannah Montana and London Tipton get old FAST... "Yeah Me!!" No, more like "Yeah shoot me in the face NOW!!") and the endless laying on the couch sighing "But Mom... I have nothing fun to do. What do you want me to DO? Sitting here staring at you is what I'm doing... See??" (See, I told you SHOOT. me. in. the. face. NOW...)

Anyway, I turned our little patio into a planter box garden for Lily. ~~We...~~ Errrr I... are you crazy? you think I would give a bag of potting soil and water to my 6 year old??? I am not one of those "Ooohhh, dirt and messes are fuuuun" kinda Moms. More like the "Don't effing touch that!! Great! Now see what you did??"( I know. I suck at this Mother thing.) Ok, so we planted Strawberry's, a wild flower mix and Sunflowers. Mostly, we errr... I was excited about the Strawberries... homemade Strawberry Jam you see... (yeah the fat girl in me puts a "Food Spin" on EVERYTHING) Now, I won't mention that ummm, I did/do ALL the watering. Or that I'M the one who got excited when the seeds sprouted... Sigh... And oh did I mention that Lily still wants to watch Disney Chanel 25 hours a day????

And to top it off- the effing Strawberries didn't even SPROUT. We got plenty of wildflowers... and EVERY SINGLE Sunflower came up.... Did you know that Sunflowers can grow like ten feet tall? Yeah, put that in your planter box and stuff it... (Yeah, there were a couple late night "weeding" sessions to thin the Sunflower Crop....)

We haven't really gotten a ton of "flowers blooming" yet either... (they will come at some point, right???) but I looked out this morning as saw this little Sunflower... and I just had to take a second to say... I'm grateful for the flowers in my life... ALL of them... the one that wakes me up at 6:10am on SUNDAY mornings to watch, you guessed it- Disney Chanel and the other one who gags on anything REMOTELY lumpy... (C'mon kiddo like, deal with textures.... you really wanna eat pureed crap your whole life???)

Beeotch Lady aside- I really do love my girls... for reals...

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Either Her or Me

2009-07-20T17:00:00.000-07:00

So, I really don't know if I should be writing this when it is still so fresh and um, recent (like ten minutes ago recent) 'cos I still am kinda mind effed and tryin' to like "process", you know what I mean? Ok, so I have mentioned having "issues" with Lily. It has gotten to the point where we are seeking "outside intervention". (And no, not an exorcism- although the thought has seriously crossed my mind, and no, not that British Nanny Lady... think more along the lines of shrink and maybe medication.) I love boundaries and discipline and all that. I am a huge fan of time outs and spankings and anything else that instills that healthy "Fear of God" between the child and you, the parent.

I honestly thought I was doing pretty good with the whole parenting thing. I mean, I know there's always room for progress and I know as Lily gets older things will grow and shift and alter. The discipline that we used at 5 to make her ~~life miserable~~ behave appropriately most likely will not work on her at 10 or 12... or 16. (Insert involuntary shudder HERE. "Teenager" is a very, very, bad word not to be even uttered in whispers within the walls of our home. I am not, I repeat NOT ready for that phase.)

But I know its coming. That whole "teenager" thing. Which is why the recent changes in Lily's temperament and behavior have been so completely unnerving. Like in a "Holy Shit!" kinda way... I know that if I don't reign her the EFF in now- we are in some serious trouble when she is older (and I mean like the 13 and bein' sexually active and cutting class and all that crazy out of control kind of trouble.) Now, I know this all prolly seems kinda like "Wimpy Mom" of me. Like, "Sheesh, Lady just spank your kid or something." (I know this 'cos if I were readin' this that's prolly my first reaction.) "Are you for effin' real? You can't control your 6 year old child??? Who is the adult there?"

Lily's Shrink Lady, scanning through a stack of paperwork, "So there is no history of mental illness? No 'Crazy Aunt Margaret' or anything?
I pause for a moment thinking, "Ummm. Not really. I mean nothing besides the 'issues' her biological father has had."
Lily's Shrink Lady, stops looking for through the paperwork and locks her eyes on mine and states matter-of-factly, "Well, I want to move forward with some more testing. Specifically for bipolar."

She is being tested for bipolar. My little girl, my first born, my not even 7 year old child is being tested for bipolar.

Now. this is prolly gonna sound REALLLY bad but in some ways, I was a little bit relieved. Like, ok its not just me who thinks there's a problem. Like, ok so maybe this isn't my sucky mothering that has effed Lily up. Maybe there's really something there and we can get her the help she needs now to be healthy. Hmm. And honestly, if all the tests come out fine and all that... if Lily doesn't "need medication" maybe I DO... 'cos this kid can FLIP THE EFF OUT with the best of 'em. For reals folks. And as much as I love her and yada, yada, yada, blah, blah, blah.... I also know my limits for "crazy-hormonal-borderline-psychotic-mini-drama-queen-temper-tantrums".

I'll keep ya updated on testing results of course...

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Gloves are off...

2009-07-18T11:15:00.000-07:00

Ok, so like, I am not a Mrs. Suzie Homemaker. OBVIOUSLY. I am not perfect. My house is far from spotless and sometimes dinner is just a bowl of cereal (Thats called an "Ashley Snack Night" in our neck of the woods). My children are not perfect little angels and my "marriage" is far from a match made in heaven. And I kinda feel like, honestly, up until now I have been pretty "filtered" with my posts. Hmm. I feel like a fake. A poser. Anyway, in light of much ongoing internal musing about the content of my postings (Should I really say that? Should I be that transparent? That raw? Is this really the me I want to portray?) I had a phone call that tipped me RIGHT over the edge yesterday and that's it Campers, the gloves are off.

In light of my Gloves Off Posting Campaign- let me give you a slight (but much needed) history lesson. Ok, so I am on marriage #2. Marriage #1 produced Daughter #1 and ended after two years when Hub #1 came out of the closet. (Yeah, that closet. It's another story and post all together.) So, after the scandalous end of marriage #1- I moved back to CA with Lily in tow etc etc. Went to work. Etc, etc. Fast forward a few years-three to be exact- and I am in my second year of RT school. Sooo ready to be done with school and to get out of Bakersfield (had planned on relocating to Idaho-You-da-pimp after graduating said RT school.) Enter Hub #2. Sigh. So we were just dating. I had PLANNED on it being just a casual fling before fleeing this Armpit-of-California. Hmmm.
Of course, I get knocked up. OF COURSE. And I know the "some-things-are-just-meant-to-happen" speech. I know the "thats-the-consequences-for-bein'-all-slutty-and-promiscuous" speech. I will be the first to say- I effffed up big time. Yes, sir. Anyway, fast forward again through the the crazy hormonal unbalancing of pregnancy, the rest of RT school and months of the ongoing "OMG-WTF-have-I-done/going-to-do-now??" inner battle. After some candid discussions (I look back now and see there were not enough, quite frankly) The-Baby-Daddy and I want to do the "right" thing. We make an honest woman of me. I waddled down the isle. About three weeks later Daughter #2 is born. So anyway- to bring our history lesson to the present day- I am still in Bakersfield, still hating it, too. I was working, got laid off (still harboring some waaay intense pissed off hater mojo toward the lousy embezzling excuse of an employer I had.) The Hub hurt his back at work in Dec. of '08. He's doin' the workers-comp-takin'-lots-of-pain-meds-everyday-thing.

Well hey, call an effing chiropractor or something!! (Yeah, I know, I'm a bit of a beeeotch at this point.)

His route works, too though. (Snickering under breathe...) The "I'm-gonna-wait-a-few-months-before-being-even-remotely-proactive-about-my-injury-and-I'm-prolly-gonna-go-into-full-blown-renal-failure-by-the-I'm-45-due-to-all-the-narcotics-I'm-taking-from-my-pill-pushing-Dr." route. ("But it's what the Doctor's are giving me, Ashley.") Whatevers helps you sleep at night, Champ. Anyway, so things presently are not great to say the least. But, I am a glass half full kinda girl and I not willing to just let my life, like, suck for the next 80,000 years. I am making progress. Slowly.

So, now back to that phone call yesterday. I was given marital advice. Ok, I know that doesn't sound so bad. But I'm sorry- I don't need to hear "You know the grass isn't always greener. You just need to try harder. Really just try, Ashley. Your not trying hard enough" from a bible thumping woman who lets her winner of a hub use her as a punching bag whenever he feels like it. Umm, I'm sorry... errr, ok I'm not really sorry but- "What kind of woman do you think I am???" So, yes the gloves are off.

I KNOW marriage is hard. I know it takes work. I know all the applicable pep talks. I also know that I am the ONLY one IN my shoes. I am the only one who knows what I need/want/etc, etc to function as the best, healthiest Ashley I can be. I also know how much I AM trying. And ultimately, I am the only one who gets to pick for me. So back the eff off. This isn't Place of Moxie 'cause I aspire to be some simpering wimp of woman with her head dumbed down in sand. I have goals and dreams and ambition. So, like suck it up and thrive already. 'Cause if your gonna sink, I am NOT the girl who will go down with ya.
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OCD Ribbon Lovie Production...

2009-07-17T14:42:00.000-07:00

I know, I have a problem. See, I think this is what happens to me when I am unemployed (Sigh... yes, pathetically so.) AND I decide to really stick to my diet. Some people pick up smoking to help curb food cravings, some knit, some even exercise. (Oh, NO. We are so NOT doing that. All that sweating and wheezing and turning tomato red in the face?? Not to mention the wobbly bits wobbling?? WAY to not so yummo.) I on the other hand, SEW. Its like I can't help it. "Just stop yourself! You DO NOT need another ribbon lovie!" runs through my head every time I glance at the machine... then all of the sudden I am sitting down at it. And I turn it on... and then I am snipping ribbon and rubbing snuggle fabric through my still somewhat chubby-ish fingers. Sigh. I am an addict. Do I need an intervention? I think it helps me to relax, to feel productive... it distracts me from the stresses of the job search, life with the girls, and The Hub issue(s). Sigh. Anyway- SERIOUSLY- if anyone knows of a wee babe in need of a little something snuggly and sweet- let me know. I have NO clue what to do with all these... (Poor Liv is like on Rubbon Lovie OVERLOAD.) and I don't see an end to there creation in sight...
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Ribbon Lovie

2009-07-15T20:57:00.000-07:00

The first thing I have made that doesn't make me cringe when I look at it. Yup, if I were a baby boy I would SO want one of these. Its only about 10X14 inches.... so it's just the right size to take EVERYWHERE. I'm off to do one in girl colors now for Liv. Anyone know of a little gentleman in who might be in need? Let me know.
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The Ugly Quilt

2009-07-14T12:19:00.000-07:00

Ok, so in between hours of online applications, catching up on Library Reading, life with the girls and watching 'the Bachelorette' last night (OMG- the previews for the last show???!! What the heck??? This girl sooo got jipped with all the drama these boys are pullin' this season... what were the producers thinking?? Like, I almost wanna boycott the show. ALMOST.) I have been working on my "Awesome Sewing Lady Skills". At least trying. I figured a 'quilt' would be easy. Straight lines, ya know? Disclaimer: Don't look TOO closely. Its another Ugly Project for me. BUT I am getting used to the machine and getting a work out- my back is KILLING me! Who knew SEWING would be so physically demanding... And, yes the basically empty bottle of wine is noted...
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Running away to Tehachabeach

2009-07-09T15:54:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm not really running away to Tehachabeach. Just like I would never really sell my girls to traveling gypsies, or I would never really go on a cooking strike for a week. Sigh. So, just to forewarn ya'- reading the rest of this post is asking you to indulge me in my whining. Got another 'We have decided to fill the position with in house' email (third one of those this week), the bank account is dwindling and Liv just used the last diaper, Lily informed me this morning she 'quit' (Mentally, I wondered- ' You quit what??!!! Being a completely out of control hormonal brat?? Can you clarify that statement please? Inquiring minds would like to know.') And, oh by the way did I mention another heat wave is on the way? Anyone else in the mood for triple digit heat? And of course as always the Hub and I.... married and yet not even able to carry on a simple phone convo about 'pickin' up some diapers on the way home' without a tiff ensuing. I am moderately (ok, more than moderately) stressed and depressed presently. Did I mention I'm such a loser that I'm an unemployed RT in the BAD AIR capital of the whole state of California??? One place I applied at wasn't hiring RT's but had an opening for a receptionist if I was interested (hey, I am waaay desperate at this point). I applied and was told I was overqualified for the position. NICE. I just want to work!! To give breathing treatments, and ET suction, and do some Vent checks. Maybe respond to a few codes, a C-section here or there. Hmm. So, no, I'm not really running away to Tehachabeach. Unless there's someone hiring RT's out there.
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Dirty Little Hair Secrets

2009-07-07T16:09:00.000-07:00

Ok, so like I have a lot of hair. Like SERIOUSLY enough for two people. And its not stick straight, not really curly either. It can be coarse and way not so yummo. I'm also pretty hard on it. Blow dryin', flat iron, curling iron... a lot of time swimming... oh and its colored. So yeah- it can get rather parched lookin'. Almost like straw- yes, I mean like the kind a cow eats. For reals. Anyway, that's if I'm not careful with the products I use on it. I got lots of comments on my hair. (I would say 'compliments' but hmmm I don't know if "Wow, you have lion hair!" fits that category.) I get asked a lot who does it (Tessa @ Teaze Salon) and what I use everyday on my hair. 'Cos its like so awesome and pretty and Victoria Secret Sex Kitten Hair. (ok, not really but I like to think so.) Anyway- here is my secret. Ok well I guess its two secrets- A. Um, folks- its dirty. Like seriously. And I will straight up tell you that even if your a stranger and you stop me Trader Joe's or something. (Yes, that has happened.) I CANT wash it everyday. It won't act right- gets all poofy and like dry-ish. And B. When I do venture into the shower and ACTUALLY wash it (which by the way is like, hmmm maybe three times a week. MAYBE.) I use the products from ENJOY. They are lovely. Maybe a bit on the pricey side. But for me well worth it with my mane of 'rock star' hair as my Mom calls it. I LOVE their Sulfate Free Luxury line. LOVE. IT. Happy primping Ladies.

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4th of July

2009-07-05T19:59:00.001-07:00

Liv and her Smack Down Face

(breathe in and out through your nose REALLLY hard and you too can be a Smack Down Diva)

The Kids and JDinner (simple but oh so yummy)
Dessert
(crappy shot but yup. it. was. oh. so. WAY. YUMMO.)

Fully tummies and just waitin' for the fireworks show...

We had a blast on the BC back lawn... what gets better than a free show AND great free parking? Every year the local JC puts on an awesome firework production. Everyone brings blankets and chairs and waits for the sun to go down. Thank goodness they're lots of tress with shade and it actually wasn't to hot (well at least considering its summer in Bakersfield.) So we had a picnic and popped a bunch of poppers and enjoyed the awesome weather. Liv loved the show and so did Lily... and by the time we got home at ten they were both sooo beyond tired.

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White Flag

2009-07-05T12:05:00.000-07:00

So, I know yesterday was the 4th of July... I promise I have pictures and stuff to blog about that. I was actually going to post them this morning. And I just can't right this second. I am trying to be positive and a "Bucket half full" kinda girl. But I also want to be realistic and sorry this is my place to vent and organize my thoughts/emotions etc etc. And I'm also not the "filter" kinda girl. The Hub and I have problems. I know all married people can/do say that. But ours... hmm... have kinda of come to a peak so to say. In reality we have had some serious issues from day one. Those of you who know us, know that. I realize now- that's what happens when vital, life changing choices are made when we are not at the top of our game. So, I sit here today- after yet another round in the ring so to speak and I am exhausted. In between the girls (oh did I mention Lily has started acting out? Yeah, I know where it stems from...) and this whole work thing going on... and me eating my way through my emotional stresses... and the problems with the Hub.... I am just at this point raising my white flag. I surrender. For reals. Like, if I could NEVER have ANOTHER "Dr. Phil " session at midnight I'd be all over that. Round and round we go. On and on. Mostly, I want whats best for my girls. Which by default means that as their mother I need to be the best Ashley I can be. Mostly, I don't want to fight anymore. I don't want every single comment or question or sentence to turn into a yet another confrontation. This girl who hates fighting and confrontation has no more fight left in her. Mostly, I feel like I need to get my ducks in a row. I know, I have a lot of "mostly's". So, officially the white flag is up. You WIN. No more fighting. NO MORE.
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ps- I promise to post 4th of July photos next time.

The Ugly Cap

2009-07-01T19:11:00.000-07:00

Ok soooo.... Um. I know. Its awful. SERIOUSLY. DON'T LOOK TO CLOSE. But... I didn't use a pattern. AND this is still like my FIRST homemade thing EVER. ( Ugly Little Purse doesn't count as a whole thing....) Hmm. I am tired. Mentally and physically. Who knew that SEWING could be soooo exhausting. The machine might have won today- ok defiantly it did win... But I think I am over the initial fear of using the Machine.

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The Machine and Me

2009-07-01T15:30:00.001-07:00

Ok, so I know I should be SOOOOO embarassed of this ugly little bag. Sigh. But honestly- it took me an HOUR to sew. Its my FIRST ever homemade thing. And yes, it sure is a thing. So like, don't look to closely at the pictures. SERIOUSLY. I finally had the guts to get out the sewing machine my MIL got me for Christmas. Sigh. Yes I have been scared of it. If you have never sewn before- a new machine combined with NO skills or know how can be WAY overwhelming. But inside me is an awesome sewer lady. I just know it. Its in my genes. Its days like this I wish I lived closer to a sister, or Mom or Grandma. But anyway... back to the machine. My next not so fabulous project is a 'cap' for Lily. (and no that CAP was not a typo. I told her I would make her a CAPE. Like the blue one my Grandma made for me. She is excited. Even if she can't remember what to call what I'm makin' her.)

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Catching up and Just because...

2009-06-29T20:06:00.000-07:00

Uncle Cory

AKA: Nanny Extraordinaire

S'moresLily's first S'mores... at almost 7 years old... I know, I know... she has been deprived... WELL, not really. Half way through she goes

"Ok, no more. Thanks, Mom."

Hmm. Well ok. Maybe she won't be COMPLETELY a food junkie like me...

And Just ONE more... Because she is JUST. SO. DANG. CUTE.

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2009-06-29T12:03:00.000-07:00

Moxie–noun Slang.
1. vigor; verve; pep.
2. courage and aggressiveness; nerve.
3. skill; know-how.

(for Lacey who is all things MOXIE)

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Breathing Easy...

2009-06-28T23:51:00.000-07:00

Ok so I have been an avid blog 'follower' for the last few months... (mostly my family.. yes I am a silent blog stalker... ) I admit that when it comes to staying in touch with my blood- I way kinda suck at it... So, I blog watch... I smile, I cry, I laugh (Lacey- you seriously are often my day's highlight.) I 'ooh and ahhh' over babies and cousins and nieces and nephews growing up way to fast and way to far away to get to really see them. Mostly I peak into the lives of the women who to this day have influenced me the most profoundly... And I have decided that it is rather odd and selfish and voyeuristic of me to peak into every one's lives... and not offer any sort of view into mine own...
Hmmm ok so that being said... for those of you that don't know- the clinic I work at 'temporarily closed' about three weeks ago... ( sheesh should have seen that comin' when our clinic's owner started to embezzle.... ) anyway so... I have been job hunting since we closed. I have a full time job that won't start until the end of July already set up... But until then I have been actively 'keeping my options open'.
I love my Mom. ( I know random- but I promise relevant). When I talked with my Mom about the unfortunate closing of my work- her first comment was "Well, thats because you are meant for something better thats coming." I love her so. She of course brings me out of my depressed/in between Jobs/anxious complete loser/failure mode to a halt. Thanks for the wake up call Mom...
PS- I know its not even remotely what I was expecting... But I did get offered a job today... In Saudi Arabia... Sigh... Yeah not so much... But still made me breathe a little easier...
xoxo
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