Mom of the year

     I've been wondering if I could live in a different country. My first thought about it is no way, since I am such a fucking baby about living only 2500 miles away from my friends and Mom. How would I function in a culture that's so different from mine that the language is different, when I can't even understand a southern drawl?? I bitch about everything Florida related, down to the street lights (that one is hard to explain, but trust me, they're fucked up). Husband lived in Sicily for a while when his Dad was in the Navy. I've heard wonderful and terrifying stories. How would I handle driving down two lane roads on a cliff with no speed limit and the likely reality of having to wait for 150 sheep to cross the road in the middle of my journey? My journey to the ONE store in town, which doesn't even sell loaves of bread. Because people bake their own bread...duh! And the electricity is iffy. Do people have running toilets or outhouses? I can't remember.....

     I have to say this before I start. If you write a blog and allow comments in it, and someone actually comments on something, FUCKING RESPOND TO IT. You are not that cool, chick. Yes I like those cheerful juice glasses, and the lecture about feminism as it relates to bikini's, but I will no longer let you know that I like your shit or your blog, because you fucking ignore me! I'm also, BTW, the only person who comments, so I know it's hard for me to get lost in the mix. P.S. I do not care about your green wedding plans. I'm sorry, but it's an irrelevant venture, in my opinion. That's great if your invitations are made of recycled toilet paper and you don't use plastic cups at the reception, but your recycling habits and quest for a smaller 'footprint' are not an interesting wedding theme. Have you seen "My Fair Wedding"? When you change your theme to Alice in Wonderland meets African safari, THEN I will be on the edge of my seat for upd...

     Please appreciate that I am a grown up, and I generally no longer get to have moments of drunken prose and reflection due to the task and joy of raising children and needing to be "ON" at all times. But here I am. And it is SWEET. My wonderful, hard working, thoughtful and perfect for me Husband and Bestest Friend is at a sports bar watching the UFC fight. I was actually excited to tell him, "Go watch the fight, I'm fine here. You need some YOU time to do whatever", because he deserves it and never takes the opportunity. he always prefers to spend his free time with me, his "roll dog".. It felt good to see him go and feel a little weird about it though, I admit. We're pretty much a disgustingly beautiful love long. *sigh*      My hometown, the one I didn't live in until I was 30, and the one where everyone knows everyone else and it is actually a good thing, is currently celebrating the Jamboree days 4th of July weekend (aka Jam Days) an...

    We went to the splash pad again during the week, and I had to elbow an old lady in the chest for trying to pick up Bug. We parked in the lot and I had Bug standing in the trunk of the car while I got her dressed in her swim gear and put on her sunblock. This old lady comes over and starts talking to her, tried to tickle her shoulder and hold her hand...the usual bullshit old people think they have the right to do when they see babies. Fine. But when I said, "okay Bug, let's go play", the old woman reached out and put her hands under Bug's arms, ready to pick her up! I felt this sickly, adrenaline fueled anger rise up through my body, and threw a hip check at her (thank you, Derby) and an elbow at her chest before I smacked her hand away from my child and told her NOBODY picks up my baby. She said, "oh, well I was just trying to help..." and waved at us as we left. What in the bloody fuck is WRONG with people?! This isn't 1955, lady. You can't jus...

     It's only 12:30 pm. I have that sickly anxious feeling. Every nerve I have is shot. I feel guilty for not being in a good mood. I want to get out of this fucking house and do something ALONE. Everything I have tried to do so far today has failed or been a struggle. Bug is plotting my demise, I'm fairly certain. I guess it's just one of those days.      The plan was to do some sewing, make a few business calls, maybe hit a thrift store before our trip to the park, and then make dinner and clean frantically before Husband got home. Typical day. Except that the two shirts I planned to upcycle are too small for me now, and too big for Bug as dresses so I can't use them until next summer when she grows. She wouldn't take her morning nap, probably because another fucking thunderstorm suddenly showed up and kept startling her, which also caused me to cancel our park outing, she didn't want what I made her for lunch, she screamed through the one ph...

     I never gave an update of what happened with the playgroup because I didn't have much to say at first. The first few I went to I barely spoke to anyone. Finally though, I met a Mommy who I really dig, and her daughter is just a couple months younger than Bug! And get this...they just moved here from California! We've hung out a couple times, and our girls get along beautifully. Princess L (Bug's new friend) might just be a good influence for my little maniac, too. She is so mild and sweet, I swear she holds up her pinky when she drinks from her sippy cup. Not that Bug is wild or anything, she's just very...active. She hasn't even been alive for two years and she's already racked up more emergency room visits than Gage has in his entire life.      I'm sure when we're in public, at the park or whatever, that people think we're odd because our conversation volume suddenly goes from a 10 to a 2 when anyone comes near us. Neither of us wants to ...

     I'm feeling frustrated this morning. There is so much going on lately, so many things in the works, and it feels like we are finally figuring out what life will be like here. There are some things about that which are not going to work out for us. Changes must be made. That is where the frustration comes. Such is life, though, right? Meh.      Our once a month date night was yesterday. We always go get sushi at the same joint, and sit at the bar and watch the chefs make art out of food. We talk and laugh and shit, and soak up the awesomeness of being alone together and out of the house. Well, last night the douchiest douche sat down next to us at the bar with his poor, unfortunate first date, and we had to hear him strike out with this girl because he WAS THE LOUDEST PERSON THERE. This dude talked about himself non-stop. He bragged about not needing his tax return because "It's only $1000, so whatever", about the shows he's been to, a car h...