So, about that bandwagon...

I have finally succumbed to the time-sucking vortex that is Twitter.  I couldn't help it.  I really tried, I swear!  Sigh.  I'm a sucker for cute blue cartoon birdies.  I haven't been on but a couple hours and I already have a follower!

I have no idea what it is about me that makes me so prone to addictions.  Cigarettes (kicked the habit, still miss it), sex (I'm married, it's okay now), carbs (haven't figured that one out yet), diet Pepsi, blog stalking, kittens, Yahoo! Messenger...  I spent untold hours minutes talking to Heidi via IM tonight.  I'm pretty sure I could have just called her, but where's the fun in that?  What else am I supposed to do while the Hubby is hogging the flat screen, killing legions of the undead with his trusty Xbox controller? 

Do I have an addictive personality or just really shitty time management skills?  There are dirty dishes in my sink and I am blogging.  Mmmm... blogging.  It's my tastiest addiction treat!  I would feel a helluva lot better if I could blame it on a genetic quirk.

I'm addicted to blogging because it's the only adult interaction I get.  (No, the Hubby doesn't count.  I will count him in the day he can get up and get his own damn glass of milk.)  It's a really good feeling to know there are other ladies out there who wipe baby butts for a living.

Heh heh heh.  Sorry, I couldn't help it.  I am a sucker for baby butt cheeks.

LOLcats...

...because sometimes all you need is a little pussy.

As long as this exists, I will continue to delight in taking humiliating pictures of my kitten.  Because it makes the world a better place.

Thank You Thursdays

The THANKSGIVING edition!  Good timing Heidi.  This holiday season I am thankful for the following products:

1.  LOLcats.   I torture the kitty anyway, now I have an excuse to take pictures of said tortured kitty and spread them across the interwebs.

2.  Food coloring.  Toddler doesn't want to take a bath?  Add your mommy magic, make the water blue, and watch them dive in headfirst! 

3.  Wild Cherry Diet Pepsi.  You embody my love/hate relationship with high fructose corn syrup.

4.  Synthroid.  Because you help me kick hypothyroidism in it's sluggish, overweight ass.

5.  Yahoo Messenger.  Connecting lonely housewives like me everywhere with the outside world.

And last but definitely not least:

6.  I am thankful for the two loves of my life, my incredibly handsome husband and my darling daughter.  May this be the first of many holidays together.  Salute.

What are all ya'll thankful for?

Bloodline FAQ.

Because I get this question alllll the time (I even get questions from strangers in the grocery store!) I will now dissect the Kid's cultural heritage:

I am half Italian and half Irish.  The combination makes for a good cook, a nasty temper, and ensures that family gatherings will be both loud and booze-soaked.

My ex-husband, who's only redeeming quality is that his sperm makes pretty babies, is half Hispanic and half Indian (As in India the country, not Native the American.).

That would make the Kid one quarter Italian, one quarter Irish, one quarter Hispanic, and one quarter Indian.  Whew that's a mouthfull!!!

All I know is that I need to keep my shotgun clean and ready for when those boys come knockin down our front door.  (What?  Someone has to put the fear of God into them!)

I. Am. Tired.

Now that I think about it, I should have named my blog that. I am tired. Oh well, somebody probably already beat me to the punch. This week I've been exhausted. I have no idea if it's the depression or the low thyroid or if I'm just being a whiny little bitch. (It also may be the freakin hyper-as-shit toddler I'm chasing around and attempting to unsuccessfully potty-train. I'll get back to you on that one.) I'm pretty sure I need enough antidepressants to kill a horse a higher dose of Wellbutrin. I've only been taking Synthroid for a month and the dosage can take months to figure out so I'm screwed there too. Hypothyroidsim is genetic, so at least I have a good reason to blame that one on my mother I'm stuck with this shit for the rest of my life. Either way I go back to the doctor on Thursday, so hopefully they can give me tranquilizers adjust my medication. Where the hell is some Valium when you need it?

Proof that God does indeed exist...

Note to self:  Chocolate pudding puts Kid to sleep.  Keep chocolate pudding in purse.

I don't know how I could look at her face and doubt the existance of a higher power.  That, and she fell asleep in the car.  If that isn't a sign, then I don't know what to tell ya.

Another Thank You Thursday!

One day late as usual, and without further ado:

1.  Thank you Heidi for posting pics of your sweet baby.  I swear to God if you make me want to have another one...

2.  Thank you Hubby, who believes that sex makes everything better (well it does!).

3.  Thank you kitten, for providing hours of amusement for myself and the Kid.

(save me.)

Yes, that is dirty laundry on my living room floor.  Yes that is my freakin frizzy hair.  And yes, I'm holding the kitten like a baby.  I think he's resigned to his fate.

4.  Thank you United States Marine Corps.  You know why I'm mad at you.  I'm still not speaking to you.  Your only saving grace is that you sent my ex-husband to California.  Far, far away from me.  Which is awesome.

5.  Thank you Diego for teaching my two year old Spanish.  Which has resulted in the Kid screaming "¡Ayúdame ayúdame!" whenever she decides she's had enough of sitting in her seat in the grocery cart.  Which causes every Spanish speaker in the store to turn around and STARE at me.  And continue to stare at me the entire time we're in the store.  (And just in case you don't speak Spanish, "ayúdame" means "help me."  And we're in rural Texas, so that means just about sixty percent of people speak Spanish.  I'm suprised that I didn't get security called on me, as it was obvious I was kidnapping a child.)

I am sleep deprived...

...I am exhausted. I need a break from ordinary life. I need someone to give a fuck. So I write. I write because I am broke. I am stretching the limits of the definition of broke. I am pancakes-for-dinner, paycheck-to-paycheck, one-bedroom-apartment, sleeping-on-a-pile-on-top-of-each-other-on-an-air-mattress broke. I write because this shit is free and I needed to find a hobby gratis.

I was suprised at how immensely satisfying spilling your guts to the entire world really is. Somewhere out there someone is reading my inner dialogue and getting something out of it. Thank God the internet is a series of tubes limitless resource because my inner dialouge talks a LOT. And it's comforting to know that I'm connecting to another person, even in a small way. Even if I never know about it.

My blog is my escape. All day long I wipe little hands, sing songs, trip over toys, wash dishes. I know all the theme songs to every kids TV show ever made. I trudge endlessly back and forth between my apartment and the laundry mat, cursing the apartment management for charging me a dollar a wash. Here I'm not constrained by the bounds of my (lack of) finances or my (lack of) education; by my depression or my thyroid disease. Here I am not discriminated against because I am a SAHM, or a housewife, a military wife, or a young mother.

This is the place where all the crappy fucking things in my life become funny. I can see the joy in life and rise above the downhill-rolling shit. I have the freedom to be my own person here- nobody else owns me or my time. I can write about any fucking thing that I want. I can curse and swear and stomp my feet (virtually, but it's possible). I spill my guts to random, (for the most part) anonymous strangers and IT FEELS FUCKING AWESOME.

Why the HELL doesn't my husband think I'm funny?

Alternate title:  My Husband is an Alien.

Me:  "Honey, do you think I'm funny?"

The Hubby:  "Occasionally."

Me:  "Really, I thought I was pretty funny.  Is that why you never laugh at my jokes, I'm not funny?"

The Hubby:  "Yes."

Me:  "Bastard."

The Hubby:  *rolls eyes*

Me:  "Well, I'm pretty sure that the three people who read my blog think I'm funny!!!"

The Hubby:  "Are you still writing on that thing?  Interesting."

Me:  "AAAAAAAAUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!"  *tears hair out*

If the Hubby was an alien he would be a Vulcan.  No matter what I do it is IMPOSSIBLE to get a rise (not that kind, I'm pretty good with that kind) out of this guy!  Add that to the fact that he's got exactly three facial expressions (angry, good sex, and everything else).  Yep, he's a Vulcan.  Insert the phrase "It seems... illogical" into my husband's side of the above conversation and you'll see what I mean.
 
Uh, yea I'm still writing on the damn blog.  No, I just keep this laptop here to keep my legs warm.

The highlight of my morning...

(Silence! I kill you!)

(You will pay for this later, vile human.)

It's not bad enough that I got his nuts chopped off- I have to further humiliate the kitten by bathing him regularly. To make it up to him I fed him half a hotdog, thus disproving my husband's theory that you can't hold a cat like a baby. (Cat'll do anything for a hotdog) Now the kitten is attached to my chest, sleeping off the trauma. The Kid is snoozing in my lap and the silence is golden. Can ya'll hear that? No? That's because it's QUIET over at my house!!! 

Random Shit Monopolizing My Time. Because I'm nosy.

Link-a-licious!  Mmm, mmm good!  It's shit that makes ya think:

When I'm old I wanna be cool like Vivienne Westwood.

Where the hell was this shit when I married the first time?

Because I watched Quantum of Solace yesterday and I'm totally in love with Daniel Craig my handsome Hubby.

Whenever I read something like this one, the Hubby gets to sleep on the couch.  (And if you want to get REALLY mad, read the Princess Trilogy by Jean Sasson.)

The last one really got under my skin- it hits close to home, no pun intended.  Gotta do something, so I found VDAY and now I feel like I can at least do something!  My outer housewife lets my inner feminist out to play sometimes, and man is she a bitch!

Okay, the feminist is back in her cage!  Here's some frugal awesomeness!!!

Repeat after me:  "The people you meet online are only as real as you allow them to be..."

Okay, really???

Because we never saw that one coming!

I'm still a Mama for Obama baby!

I'm going to have to email this one to the Hubby.

Thank You Thursdays!

So yea, I'm a day late on this one.  Sorry Heidi!  Which brings me into this week's Thank You Thursday:

1.  Thank you flu bug.  I hate you, and so does my kitten.

2.  Thank you to the base daycare who had a freak, once-in-a-blue-moon drop-in slot today. 

Freeeeeeeeedddoooooooooommmm!!!!!!!!!

3.  Thanks to the Hubby, who got off work early and whisked me away to see Quantum of Solace.  There's nothing better than a kid free, shoot-em-up movie and overpriced, stale popcorn.

4.  Thank you Daniel Craig, just for being you.

5.  Thank you Yo Gabba Gabba! for being stoned out of your mind creative and original, and writing the song "There's a Party in my Tummy!"  Sometimes singing that damn thing is the only way I can get the Kid to stop playing long enough to eat something.

6.  Thank you Andrea.  You made my month week and I <3 you!

Stay tuned for next week's edition!

Flu season is officially HERE.

WARNING:  If you are not a parent, you may not want to read this one.  Trust me.

If you haven't gotten a visit from the Stomach Bug yet, just you wait.  It might take him a few days to get there, because he's here at MY house.

So yesterday morning (which, since Hubby is off from work because of Veteran's Day, was MY day to sleep in) the Kid decided to start recreating scenes from The Exorcist.  I'm already conditioned against puke- when the Kid was an infant she could throw up twice her body weight in formula/breast milk.

I get a tap on the shoulder, "Mommy, I don't feel good."

And then she threw up all over me and our new kitten.  The Kid was freaked, the kitten was freaked.  I ended up sticking both of them in the bathtub.  In case you didn't know angry, wet kittens are very slippery.

Poor baby.  Poor kitten.

The hubby and I finally took the Kid to the base clinic after concluding that the fountain of puke was not likely to stop anytime soon.  In case you didn't know, do NOT take a puking toddler to the doctor via automobile unless you absolutely have to.  Thank God I had the presence of mind to grab a stack of towels on the way out the door.

We came home from the doctor's with some over-the-counter nausea medication, Pedialyte, and assurances that everything would be back to normal soon.  Except that the Kid puked up all the medicine and Pedialyte the second it hit her stomach.

So off to the ER we go!  Six hours later my child is hydrated, medicated and happy.  We head on home and pray for a peaceful night.

Of course on a day like yesterday, that was NOT going to happen.

As soon as we got home I had to book it to the bathroom and pray to the porcelain god.  I swear, I haven't puked so much since I was pregnant with the Kid!  Fast forward to three in the morning and the Hubby finally drags me out of the bathroom and to the ER.  Again.  At least the Kid thought being woken up for an early morning car ride was loads of fun.  She was one happy camper!

Thank God for IVs.  The same doctor that had treated the Kid earlier in the day was still on call- needless to say he was amused.  I was not.

The Hubby told his Staff Sergeant in charge that in no uncertain terms would he be showing up in class today.  Thank God for my Hubby.  I slept all damn day, had really freaky dreams, and now I'm blogging in my underwear.

Sometime parenthood just ain't pretty.

Today is Veteran's Day!!! Have you hugged a Veteran yet?

For those who have served, and are still serving...

For those who have lived to tell their stories...

(Pearl Harbor survivor Houston James of Dallas embraces Marine Staff Sgt. Mark Graunke Jr. during a Veterans Day commemoration in Dallas. Graunke lost a hand, a leg and and eye when he defused a bomb in Iraq. AP Photo)

And for those whose voices will never be heard again...

(Arlington National Cemetary.  Photo, arlingtoncemetary.net)

For those who left loved ones behind...

(Mrs. McCloud, widow of LtCol Joseph Trane McCloud (USMC, deceased) and her children.  Photo, arlingtonnationalcemetary.net)

And for those who's loved ones still wait for closure...

(No man is ever left behind.  We will never forget, we will never stop searching.)

For the Unknown Soldier and those who unceasingly guard his tomb...

(Members of a Marine honor guard stand in front of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Arlington National Cemetary in Washington. November 11th, 2007. Photo, Reuters)

For my Grandfather who served as an Army paratrooper in WWII...

For my other Grandfather whose service spanned decades, starting in WWII...

For my mother in law and father in law, who both served in the Army...


For all those family members who endure, wait, and hope...

For all those standing guard tonight in faraway, foreign lands...

For all my brothers in arms, all those who have come before me and all those who will come after me...

For my husband, who is my life...

And finally, for myself...

(November, 2006.  I too served with honor.)

Happy Veteran's Day.

Happy 233rd Birthday, United States Marine Corps

In honor of my brothers, I've donated to two organizations that are close to my heart:

Any Marine, a program that sends care packages to Marines overseas.

The Semper Fi Fund, a charity that provides a wide spectrum of financial assistance and services to Marines and Navy Corpsmen who were injured in Iraq and Afghanistan.

I am an American by birth, and a Marine by the grace of God! I was born as a United States Marine on 21 November 2003 and I will die as United States Marine.

Goodnight Chesty, wherever you are...

Laziest. Kid. Ever.

(Notice all the WHITE CAT HAIR on my BLACK COUCH.

Note to self: Next time, match cat with couch.)

Thank You Thursdays!

My bloggy friend Heidi had a great idea: Thank You Thursdays!!! I needed a place to rant express myself in an emotionally safe environment.  How did you know?  Here goes:

1.  Thank you silver Jaguar owner for cutting me off in traffic Tuesday morning.  That's okay I understand.  You, the All Important Silver Jaguar Owner, probably had equally important places to go.  Like that strip club on Main that opens at 10 am.  Never mind that it was rush hour.  Never mind that you crossed five lanes of traffic on a one way street for the sole purpose of cutting me off.  Never mind that my toddler was in the car.  The life of one urban haute bourgeois All Important Silver Jaguar Owner has infinitely more value than the life of my insignificant proletarian family.

2.  Thank you Xbox 360.  You are a black hole in my wallet.  You are the reason I have a TV bigger than an IMAX screen.  I have to go to extraordinary lengths (lengths involving gettin nekkid!) to get my husband to ignore you and pay attention to me.  I want to go all Office Space on you and dance gleefully around your electronic remains.  It would make the Hubby cry, but it could be worth it.

3.  Thank you random lady on Freecycle for giving me all those moving boxes.  Now I don't have to pay U-Haul seventy bucks for five dollars worth of cardboard and packing paper.

4.  Thank you damn ungrateful cat.  You wanna be an outside cat?  FINE.  Your bowl is on the porch.

5.  Thank you to the Hubby, for coming to the shelter with me and the Kid to pick out a kitten.

6.  Thank you apartment manager for charging me a pet deposit fee so exorbitant, I had to sign the contract in my own blood.

Whew!  That was fun.

So, do I own the kitty...

...or does the kitty own me?  Everywhere I go I feel like someone is watching me- and I also feel a strange, overwhelming compulsion to drop bits of meat on the floor.  Hmmm...
 

(Ninja the Kitty may just let you live.)

Random things about me!

• Right now I am doing the Hubby's military coursework.  I've been on his behind for the better part of a year to do it- completing it gives him a better chance of getting promoted to the next rank.  I hate him am seriously annoyed at him for this, but we need the moola that comes with the promotion.
• Trying to keep a two year old from chasing a cat is impossible.  Trying to keep a two year old out of said cat's water bowl IS impossible.
• I am still in denial about the baby weight.  My baby is two, it now belongs solely to me.
• I yell.  A LOT.  I am trying to stop.
• I also swear.  I can usually keep it under control around the Kid (she's in the parrot stage) but other than that...
• I blame my love of the F-word on the United States Marine Corps.  Creative swearing is an admired ability in the Corps.
• Speaking of the USMC, I was an active duty Marine for five (count 'em FIVE) years.  Five years turned out to be much longer than I estimated when I left for bootcamp at 18.
• I love tattoos.  I have four (more coming soon) right now.  They are all very visible, and my largest tattoo is in my profile pic. 
• Even though I love my tattoos, I still covered some of them up (the ones on my arms and back) for my wedding.  Tattoos + strapless gown + pictures that will last a lifetime = tacky.
• I have been married twice and divorced once.  I married my first husband right after I turned 19.  I wouldn't recommend it.
• My favorite shoes are my black Converse lo-tops.  They are also in my profile pic.
• I bought my first house when I was 20.
• When the Kid is being bratty on a particular day, I will put her hair in pigtails and bows.  When she screams the pigtails shake everywhere.  It's amusing.
• The reality of a being a stay at home mom didn't hit me until I found myself watching reruns of "Little House on the Prarie" and enjoying it!
• I stalk homemaking and homeschooling blogs because all those ladies have fantastic ideas.
• I am very frugal, out of necessity. 
• I had very serious post-partum depression and it took me quite a long time to bond with my daughter.
• I cook everything I possibly can from scratch.  I enjoy it, I have the time, it's cheap(er), and I'm a health nut.  So it works.
• I really want to learn how to sew.
• I was deployed to Iraq when I was 19.  I spent seven months there.  I really want to write a post about it; I have been encouraged to write a post about it.  I haven't written it yet because I am afraid I'll think about the things I don't want to remember.
• Crayon melted into car seat fabric is forever.
• I am a recovering pack rat.
• I get my (very fake) nails done every three weeks.  It's my big treat, and I wish I could afford a pedicure too!
• I want to go back to college.  I don't know how I'm going to make it happen, but I'm determined.
• Sometimes I miss being an active duty Marine.  I miss the sense of pride I felt when I put on my uniform every day.  I miss adult conversation.  I miss uninterrupted workout time.  I do not miss being deployed. 
• Sometimes being a housewife and
  SAHM is harder than being an active duty Marine.

Please share some of your random things with me!

The latest addition to the clan...

... introducing Ninja the Kitty! Yes, I let my husband name her. No, I don't want to talk about it.

(Ninja taking over the Kid's couch)

So, thanks to my new Zyrtec prescription (love the stuff!) I am now a happy kitty Mommy.  Our animals tend to find us, and we found this pretty girl abandoned at our apartment complex.  We talked to the apartment manager and confirmed that yes, our girl was dumped by one of the families who had recently moved out.  There's a special circle of Hell for people who mistreat animals.  Anyway, she passed the vet test and now she's ours!

Poor Ninja also had to pass the toddler test too.  The Kid was beside herself times a zillion when she discovered her new fuzzy friend.  Ninja immediately became "my kitty!" and when the Kid pulled her tail she only glared.  Kitty and Kid spent a good chunk of the morning on the Kid's couch, petting each other and getting acquainted.

If you'll excuse me now, I have to exchange one lap warmer for another.  Laptop has nothing against lap kitty!!!