Happy Halloween, Witches!

It's the most wonderful night of the year...
When the neighbors are treating, "Trick or Treat" is repeating, and I'm walking with beeeer
It's the most wonderful night of the year!

I love Halloween, it's the only guilt free holiday.  Trust me, when you have divorced parents you take what you can get.  Halloween was a holiday I could get into.  Dressing up, sugar, alcohol.  Nothing else comes close.

I'm off to do the Time Warp...

Enemy of the State

Seriously, did no one else watch this movie?



I don't understand why everyone is so shocked and surprised by the NSA's actions, it's all spelled out in Enemy of the State.

If you want to get even more old school, check out Sneakers.



Not all of my conspiracy theories have been fed by Hollywood, in fact I have never made it all the way through Conspiracy Theory (sorry Julia, it's a terrible movie).

Pass the Dutchie...

I forgot about Red Ribbon Week, and my kid is the only one at school not wearing a tie.  Maybe.  Rest assured that I will hear all about it tonight.

Also, I made brownies last night.

Seriously, what kind of message am I trying to send my kids?  I should probably just give my permission for them to use drugs and get it over with.

Not to sound paranoid or anything, but...

The NSA is spying on me.  Because I'm fucking awesome.

And if they aren't, eh, their loss.

Happy Friday, Bitches!

No wonder I'm having a mid-career crisis right now.  

So fucking tired of this shit

This is me at work these days, dealing with my 6.5 year old computer:

In other news: the dogs have fleas, I found mouse shit in my silverware drawer this morning, Leo vomited all over the new carpet in my bedroom, and The Spouse is currently not getting paid but working anyway.  Oh, and I'm supposed to be writing a business plan in between the six birthdays we are celebrating in a 16 day period.

I can't wait to go home and clean up mouse shit while herding children to do homework.

Shameful

See these guys running toward the gunfire? They Capitol Police officers and are currently working without pay, thanks to the shutdown.  They have wives and children, mortgages and daycare.  The work round the clock - putting themselves between Members of Congress and crazy people/terrorists - and Congress has the nerve not to pay them.  

The House of Reps had the balls to give them a standing ovation, but not the guts to the hard work of seeking an end to the situation.  Shame on them.

GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER, YOU ASSHOLES. YOU’RE RUINING IT FOR EVERYONE

Even at its most dysfunctional, I love our government.  I love our system.  I love our country.  I could not wait to turn 18 and be able to vote.

I do not love our current Congress, but until people start shooting at each other (ahem) or shutting down the government (ahem, ahem) I think it works pretty much the way it was intended.  Perhaps I'm too American, I have too much pride in our country, but I think we have it a lot better than 98% of the world.

As a woman, I am educated, I can control how many children I have and whom I marry.  I can work outside the home - hell, I can LEAVE THE HOUSE UNATTENDED and DRIVE MY OWN CAR.  I'm not circumcised.  My children attend school free of charge (well, it's paid for by property taxes, but it is still a lot cheaper than private school) and have access to vaccines and medication that keep them healthy.  It's a wonderful thing to be an American, at least it is in my humble opinion.

So, Congress, suck it up.  Compromise.  BOTH sides. Pass some spending bills.  Don't hold the system hostage.  Get over yourselves.  Do your fucking job.

*Title stolen from Jenny, Bloggess extraordinaire.

Happy Government Shut Down, little dude!

I should have named Robin "Cliff" in honor of his birthday that falls on October 1st.

A little bureaucratic humor.

Where Did the Baby Go?

I've been tagging items for an upcoming consignment sale which is not an easy thing to do if one is a sentimental pack rat, such as myself.  I've forced myself to be unemotional and unsparing in my tagging, to get these boxes of stuff out of my basement and into the basement of someone else.  (That doesn't mean I don't have a box or two of things set aside.)  My weakness is footy pajamas.  As I put them on hangers and attach the tags (Priced to sell!), I have flashes of this kid or that in them.

How can I sell the footy pajamas that my babies wore after their baths - when they were sweet smelling, clean, soft, drowsy?  How can The Spouse expect me to say goodbye to those worn, nubby, stained, long outgrown pajamas?  Doesn't he remember me nursing those babies?  Reading them stories? Putting them in their cribs or Big Boy Beds? I see babies with gummy smiles kicking in delight when I find them in their cribs in the morning. I can still see those drunken sailors with potbellies staggering around the living room.

 I hug the pjs close to me, and my arms ache to feel those sturdy chubby babies again or to smell the tops of their sweet baby heads.

When I was a child, I had a Little Golden book entitled, Where Did the Baby Go? The little girls searches her house for the baby in the picture until she finally figures out the answer (spoiler alert: she's the baby, grown up.)

Where did the baby go?

Where did the other one go?

I'm glad they are growing and healthy, and I look forward to watching them grow, but I miss my babies, and I know I will miss my little boys when they are gone.  Why did my childhood last years (especially in junior high pre-algebra class) but their childhoods are going by in the blink of an eye?

Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack

This week has been physically and emotionally exhausting - but hey, the weather has been great!

Monday started with the shooting at the Navy Yard.  After work, I went directly to baseball practice and hugged the snot out of The Spouse.  Then battled Batman to do his homework and eat his dinner.

Tuesday I had a not fun call with the bank, informing me that the loan needed to finance my takeover of Wayne Enterprises was unlikely to be approved.  Great, dreams dashed.  The Money Pit does not have enough equity in it to serve as collateral for the loan.

Wednesday was a pretty amazing day, but still exhausting.  A friend gave us her mother's tickets to see the Washington Nationals play the Atlanta Braves - and included a parking pass.  I met the rest of the family at the stadium where the Dynamic Duo was hard at play on in the play area.  The Spouse and I were so excited that is was $5 beer night.  We considered getting two each! We didn't commit to food - though the kids were begging - until we found our seats and got settled.  We wandered around and finally asked the bouncer at the doors of the super fancy club because we were lost.  Except we weren't, we were in the right place.   The seats were behind home plate and included access to the super fancy club where EVERYTHING WAS FREE!!!  It was Robin's first ever MLB game, and Batman told him over and over again that he would never have seats like this, or waitress service, or free all-you-can-eat food.  Wow.  And the club had private restrooms that never had a line.  Y'all, it was as if I were in Baseball Heaven.  Despite the Nats 2-5 loss, it was the best game I had ever been to.  Ever.  (I wondered if it was worth it to buy fancy tickets, if we would save money on food/drinks/etc.  No, no it wasn't.  We will never have seats like this again.  It was a once in a lifetime experience, but a wonderful family memory.)

After not getting home until 11pm on Wednesday (yes, we are crap parents.  What?  They were GREAT seats!) I had to be at work early on Thursday.  Groan.  But I rallied and made it.  That evening brought about more baseball (Little League this time, Batman's team lost and Robin broke my PNS camera) and another homework battle.  I'm so tired of homework and it's only the third week of school.  

Another day in DC, another shooting.

I'll be the first to admit that today's event is different from an ordinary shooting.  However, when I heard there was a shooting in DC near the Navy Yard, my first thought was that it must be drug related.  The Spouse worked at the Navy Yard a decade ago.  I would take metro there to meet him after work and was afraid.  There used to be a liquor store across the street from his building where drug dealers and hookers would peddle their wares.  Marines with large guns guarded The Spouse's building and would tell me to cross the street.  I would say that I needed to stayrightherepleasedon'tshootbutI'mnotgoingoverthere.  The neighborhood has gentrified by leaps and bounds since that time, with the Nats stadium, Department of Transportation hub, and many new upscale condominiums.  But, still, there are elements of drug trade around there.

When I heard the shooter was inside a Navy building, I decided it must be a disgruntled employee.  Sucks, but it's a reasonable assumption.

Now, with 12 dead and a potential shooter on the loose (? - we honestly don't know) I have no idea what to think, except that life is too short to live without cards* and I could really use a cupcake but I don't want to go get one because a potential shooter is on the loose.

Ah, DC, way to keep it interesting.

*Four days later - I'm re-reading this post and I have absolutely no idea what point I was trying to make here.  

Yes, please

I am obsessed with this ad right now.  I'm not a huge Michelle Williams fan, but the ad pops.



I'd also like to have the bag, but that's not going to happen.

Thank you Lord for thinking about me, I'm alive and doing fine.

I have come to the conclusion that 9/11 is a different experience for those who were in DC than for those in NYC - and a VERY different experience from those in the rest of the country.

While my Facebook feed is filled with photos of candles that have a message like "We will never forget" in a fancy scrolling script, I would love to forget.  Please, please, let the images get out of my brain.  Let us not talk about where we were, how close we were, what we saw.  Can't we just let it go?  Obviously, the answer is no, lest we be accused of siding with the terrorists who started this thing in the first place.

So, today, I am celebrating my own personal Thanksgiving.  I'm thankful for the squirmy wiggly boy who woke me up this morning by cuddling up to me and rubbing my belly (oh, and no, no baby in there, just something Robin likes to do.)  I'm grateful for his older brother, who came along when we were convinced we would never have our own child.  I'm thankful for the amazing man in my life who continues to go to work everyday, pick up the kids after school, and who is probably often tempted to "go out for milk and bread" but stays anyway.  I'm thankful for Sally, she of the chronic kidney failure and expensive dental visits, who keeps my floors spotless - except for the giant gobs of hair she leaves all over.  I'm thankful for Leo, who turns 9 today, who has the best temperament of any dog I've ever owned despite his terrible allergies.

Thank you Lord for thinking about me, I'm alive and doing fine.

It's like this and like that and like this and uh

I know that you all miss me when I'm away, but absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Our first day of school was delayed when Batman awoke with a rash, the school nurse wouldn't let him start school on time, and I had to run around town dropping off Robin at his first day, visiting Urgent Care, filling prescriptions, running back across town, then finally in to work.  It was exhausting.  When The Spouse told me that he was exhausted that evening, I gave him my best cutting glare and put an end to that conversation.

I've been painting furniture and trying to reclaim my garage.  It would be better if I would stop buying stuff, but I just purchased 28' of wrought iron fence ($100) that needs to be cleaned and painted before put to (temporary) use keeping the dogs from the pool. We can't put up the permanent kid-proof fence until we rebuild the retaining walls and deck stairs, and we can't do that until our ship comes in/we win the Powerball/the money tree finally grows in the backyard.  We will need to hire a welder to cut and fit it into the space, but it will still be a substantial savings over a new fence.  Now, I need to find wrought iron gates...

I also bought a suit of armor that I'm hoping will be a great Halloween decoration ($20).

The hostile takeover of Wayne Enterprises has reached critical mass.  We are hoping to close next month.  It takes considerable energy and attention to detail - neither of which I possess in excess.  Considering that Birthdaypalooza starts at the end of this month, I have no idea how I am going to buy/operate a business in the middle of it, but I'll manage.  I hope.

Happy Friday

The Grandmother has left, The Mother remains, and the kids are in Heaven.  The Spouse and I have been enjoying multiple date nights while we have in house babysitters.

I have been rehabbing/painting/renovating a ton of yard and estate sale finds, I'm just now finishing up the first project and hope to have pictures for y'all next week.

Have a great weekend!

Merry Christmas!!!

I was supposed to be in New York today but things changed and it didn't work out. I'm a little bummed but mostly over it, probably due to the Barbie Dream House I bought yesterday. 

I had seen this picture online:



I drooled. I wanted it. I checked Craigslist and ebay for prices, to see what the range was. It varied from $50 for an incomplete/broken house to $300+ for a complete kitted out Dream House. I knew that if the price were reasonable and if the house were still there that I would buy it. I sweated over the price a bit, but decided if it were just the house and under $80, I would take it.

Yesterday, Mom and I dropped the boys off at their respective camps then headed south to an estate sale. We were 1/2 hour early so of course Mom had to line up and ask everyone what they were looking for and did they want the dream house. (rolling eyes)  

When the doors finally opened, we headed to the basement and zeroed in on my childhood dream toy. There it was. Dirty, neglected, sitting in the corner ashamed. It was surrounded by FOUR boxes of accessories. I didn't dig through them, but the Corvette was prominently sticking out of it. The tag on the house read, "$25 for house/accessories". 

HELLS YEAH!!!

Y'all cannot imagine the elation, surprise, shock, joy that came from seeing that tag. At 40 years old, I was getting my dream toy. The Thing I had always wanted. My Red Ryder BB Gun. It was Christmas 1979 I was wearing my flannel nightgown (why did we wear those? They were drafty and cold!) and running down the stairs as fast as I could. Not only did Santa bring me my Dream House, he brought me every single thing I needed for it. 

I lugged it upstairs, piece by piece while Mom guarded the pile. The woman who rung me up had to double check the price with the woman running the sale. She knew I was getting a steal. I made no apologies for it, but wanted to get out of there as fast as I could. It took a long time to reconfigure the seats in the car to get everything loaded. Mom offered to pay, since she could now afford to buy it for me, but I said I needed to do it on principle - of course, she now says that I'm rubbing her nose in it. I wasn't trying to hurt her feelings, but it was important to me that I buy it myself. We had a nice mother daughter bonding time...and then we hit the outlets.

Later, in my garage, Mom started sorting through all the accessories. There are a ton of repeats, so I may offer them up on ebay to others kitting out their houses. I don't want to be a Barbie profiteer, but I would like to share the joy (and cut down on the amount of clutter/crap in the Dream House). Barbie obviously let her house keeper go years ago, so the house needs some cleaning before we put it in the toy room and start arranging furniture. 





Merry Christmas, y'all!

The mother and the grandmother are in town.  Much yard sale visiting, child spoiling, picture taking over the weekend.  I love them, but we all know how to push each other's buttons like no one else.  Three days of togetherness left me needing a break.

I'll leave you with this:

Obsession, you're my obsession...

I don't need this, I don't need this.  If you do, you can get it here: http://www.coach.com/online/handbags/Product-coach_barbie-10551-10051-69556-en?cs=nat&catId=5000000000000356301&LOC=BARBIE

Good thing he's abtastic

These are one of the fugliest pairs of shoes I have ever seen.  If Smokey the Bear bred with the Honey Nut Cheerios Bee and their child had sex with a pair of shoes, THAT child would be these shoes:



Jeah!

I'm a Barbie Girl, in a Barbie World

OMG, OMG, OMG, I am so excited.

It's sad, really.

I am so excited because Coach is coming out with a Barbie.  Yes, I know it's not Kate Spade.  Still, I'm so excited.  It's a Barbie with a handbag.  Not that she didn't have a handbag before (I have a lunch box full of them), but it's a Coach handbag.  And - hopefully - there will be a full size one sold that I can buy.  Not that I need it. Because, well, you know...



 But, still, a Coach Barbie bag would be delightful.

Garden fail

I cannot grow zucchini.  I am, perhaps, the only gardener in the history of gardening that cannot grow zucchini.  Allegedly, it's an idiot proof veggie to grow in the garden and people have been known to doorbell ditch bags of the stuff on unsuspecting neighbors.  I had high hopes of grilled zucchini, baked zucchini, zucchini noodles, zucchini bread, chocolate zucchini bread.  I had pinned dozens of recipes to Pinterest, all for no reason.  There will be no homegrown zucchini at Wayne Manor this year.

I've been fairly successful with my yellow squash this year, the bell peppers aren't doing great because something keeps eating the leaves, there are a couple of straggly carrots, and it's too early to tell how the tomatoes will turn out (I got a late start on putting them outside.)  The only thing growing like gangbusters is the lone cucumber plant.  The twist is that I'm not a huge fan of cucumbers, and I didn't intend to plant it.  The Sister Wife had a leftover from her garden and donated it to mine.  It took off like gang busters and now I'm trying to think of ways to serve them - but I'm starting to gag at the thought of them.  If the tomatoes ever come in, I'll have a tasty cucumber tomato salad.  Until then, sigh...

Today is going to be copy day

I'm a lemming today, nothing original here just copying and pasting links to others.

But, if you want something to read, check out Rants from Mommyland about donating school supplies.  I've been doing it since before I had kids.  It combines my love of school supplies with my shopping problem multiplied by my obsession with bargains.  Glue for $.01 - who could resist?!?

You know what?  You don't even need to go to the link, just buy supplies and donate to your nearest school, church, food bank, or homeless shelter.  They will make sure it gets where it's needed.

Thank you!





(psstt...no one will judge if you smell those #2 Ticonderogas before you drop them off.  Oh yeah, that's the good stuff...)

And this is a love life -- to live life each small, sometimes unbearably tedious moment -- together.

I'm copying, posting, and asking you to go to this link today to read this blog post:

When You Think Your Love Story Is Boring

It's beautiful.  It's what happens when Cinderella and Prince Charming, Beauty and her Beast, and Snow White and her Prince Charming live happily ever after.  

Your Cheatin' Heart

This will probably end my relationship with Huma, but I have to say that if - IF - I were having a sexting relationship with Anthony Weiner, I would be far too embarrassed to give an interview about it.  I don't know what that stupid girl is thinking...

Oh, Huma.  Huma, Huma, Huma...you are better than this.  There are lots of other men out there that would love to be half of a power couple with you.  And probably quite a few women.  It's time to move on.

This message brought to you by Apple.

iphone 5 - the official phone of sexters everywhere.