Mom of the year

     This was truly the most uncomfortable, embarrassing moment of my whole life. Embarrassed for myself, and for the other person, and then myself again. I'll tell you this story for two reasons. One, because it's too good to keep to myself, and two, because it still makes me think about some really interesting ideas. Oh, and three, because I don't have enough content for a recent story.      From 1998 until 2008 I worked in a strip club, first as a bartender/waitress, then a bar manager, then a manager. Ooo...that's really edgy...no it's not. It's sad. But for a woman who got her GED and that's it, and had three people to support by herself, it was a sweet gig. I made a ridiculous amount of money for what I did. I didn't even have to mix drinks so it was easy. In California, fully nude clubs are not allowed to have alcohol, but we did have O'Doul's, and I had a perfect pour I'll have you know. Working in a strip club is very strange at fi

     This weekend Husband and I went out on a date, which hardly ever happens so I was super excited. First we went to a trendy bar/restaurant downtown and had an appetizer and some foreign beers we never tried before. It was good, but not really our scene. It was a college kid kind of place. Next we went to this  shitty little neighborhood bar we found a couple months ago. Neighborhood bars are our thing. We will pretty much go to any dive bar we come across. Except for that one time we pulled up and I could see through the window that it was a potential "Deliverance" reunion inside. I may be exaggerating, but in any case, it did not seem safe.         Husband and I first met in a crappy little neighborhood bar, back in California. The floor was sticky but the drinks were stiff, and our little hometown bar became our second home. The friends we made there became family. It was so comfy and the people were so accepting, all the women in town had gone there at their best and

     Toddlers do weird shit. Well, my toddler is doing especially weird shit because she's on medication that makes her loopy. This morning I gave her dose just before breakfast, and by the end of her meal she was face down in a pile of bananas, talking to them sternly. I wish I would have video taped it to show at her sweet sixteen party.          Hormones are a bitch. They make you think you want to get pregnant and have some kids. Isn't it funny, the language people use to describe parenthood? Once you actually have the kids, you suddenly hear the true meaning behind the cliche's. For example, "They will change your life, but you'd never have it any other way", sounds more like, "You won't go to the bathroom alone for the next 3 years, and you will never watch porn in the living room again."      Countless books have been written with titles like, 'What you need to know about parenting that nobody tells you', but they don't act

     Yesterday I felt like I needed a vacation from home. A "Target" vacation. Nobody was being an asshole here, it was just one of those days where you feel like a moth, and Target is the bright light. This is not something I get to do very often, and even though I had Bug with me, it was still pretty awesome. I squished novelty pillows and smelled candles and fantasized about how I'd decorate our house if the walls weren't fucking orange. I was in the store for over an hour, and I even threw caution to the wind and bought myself a scarf for 50% off, jeans for 20% off, two bras for $18, and two new eye-shadows, in very different shades of grey and brown than the other greys and browns I had at home.      Like most little girls, I learned how to do makeup from watching my Mom. Unfortunately, that was circa 1986, when the style of makeup was to wear candy looking colors like baby blue, cotton candy pink and teal green. Mom pretty much just smeared one of those colors

     My tomato seeds sprouted! I have officially created life! Oh the kids? Yeah them too.      Life has been busy the last few days. I did a T-shirt makeover out of one of Husband's old shirts, and one of mine that I hated the neckline on, and they came out cute! I want to do a bunch more T-shirt makeovers, so hopefully my birthday present this year will be a thrift store shopping spree..hint, hint...Here's the goods: His OBEY shirt. Wow, that orange wall makes me look dead.  God, I love Pinterest. It has taught me how to make my own laundry soap, do Tshirt surgery, make Olive Garden's pasta fagioli, build a house out of pallets....it's seriously the shit. I am fully aware that in 10 years I will laugh at myself for saying that.      Gage was the one who finally got Bug to walk on her own. 17 steps is the record. She won't do it for anyone else. When I stand her up and ask her to walk to me, she just giggles and sits defiantly on h

     Yesterday our septic tank overflowed again. Luckily, I had tons of stuff to do out of the house, so I got to leave and pretend it wasn't happening for most of the day. Gage and I picked up her Rx at Walmart, where it never fails that some stupid old person who thinks they're cute starts touching my baby and making weird noises at her, without asking me. It's dangerous. Strangers have germs and ill intentions. What makes it worse is that I'm deaf in one ear and sometimes can't hear the commotion over my shoulder until it's too late and this idiot has her hands on Bug's FACE! Yesterday it was an old man, and even though I was holding her on my hip, this fucker managed to boop her nose. Bug looked at him like he was a moron. Her little eyebrows were furrowed and she dropped the pacifier out of her mouth. I took a step back and mumbled a response to his question about her age, and we moved on, with homeboy still reaching out to touch her again. Dude. Get yo

     There is some kind of animal living under our house, right under the master bedroom. The damn thing is SO LOUD and only does construction at night, right when we want to sleep. Building a nest can't be that loud. I'm pretty sure it's building a casino under there. Something has to be done. Husband went out there last night and made a few banging noises, I don't know what he did really, and that helped for a while but it eventually it came back. The animal was smart enough not to build the casino under the baby's room, or we would probably have planted bombs under there by now. (Insert totally nonexistent segue here.) P.S. I fucking love that you are going to look up "segue" on Dictionary.com right now. Go ahead, do it. Here's the link. :)      I would like to take some time to say a few words about marriage. I am qualified to give my two cents because: 1. I am married, and 2. I was previously divorced.      The thing about marriage is tha

          So, today was very regular-ish. Today, I : Decided that it's cruel to make Bug go around with her hair in her face like a shaggy dog, so I consulted my  board, Baby!! on Pinterest and found this great blog on toddler hairstyles! Here's what I was going for: Here's what I accomplished....NAILED IT !!!!! I sang, "Let's clean the poo-poo!" with the passion of a gospel singer on Sunday morning. Bug tried to eat the salad OUT OF MY MOUTH. I got really sad 'cuz I went to call and chat with my Dad and then remembered he died a month ago. I poked around on Pinterest and found another 84 ways to use mason jars. I let Bug cry in her walker for 10 minutes so that I could get the dishes done. She's been here 10 1/2 months, hasn't she caught on that I have other shit to do besides play with her toys?? I read four web pages about composting and pH levels of soil and animal deterrents and regional plant diseases ssssnnnoooo

     I fancy myself nothing of a gardener. Spider plants and cactus have dropped dead at the mention of my name. However, I can be quite determined when I want something, and lately I want to not spend $250 a week on groceries. Hence, I am trying to save any way I can, and growing my own produce is step one.      I never imagined that produce could be so crappy and so expensive in Florida! In Southern California, it was cheaper to buy fresh foods and cook them yourself, but here it's cheaper to buy frozen corn dogs and Happy Meals. I recently figured out why this is. There are no Mexicans here. Before you tell me I'm racist and ignorant and should go to hell, shut your mouth. So. Cal is right next to Mexico, and the whole state is dotted with farms. The grocery stores are filled with produce that was grown down the street using cheap labor (migrant workers) and from just a hop skip across the border. You can get a head of romaine in California with the dirt still on it for $

I'm sick again and had a sudden craving for some deviled eggs a little while ago. So I pick up one of the eggs out of the container and it feels like there's a rock in it. Is it a fetus?? I don't know....I put it back.