Nothing to say

I haven't written in FOREVER, but really you should consider that a gift from me to you. I, honestly, have nothing to say! I could tell you about all the shit going down in my life right now, but if I did that I'm pretty sure this would be your last click over here. I mean do you really want to hear about how I have put the hubs on notice that if he didn't take a more active role in the holiday goings on of our house, it would, without exception be the last time we weren't taking turns having the children for the holidays??? Probably not... Or do you want to hear about what a terrible mother I am because I am to the point of not be able to stand my children while their father is gone, working 72 to 84 hours a week??? No, you say? Or how some really good friendships that I have had have now apparently morhped into some weird new thing that has no name??? I can't blame you I wouldn't either!?!? Or how my oldest son is being bullied for not believing in god, and how we had to have a come to jesus meeting (irony, I know) with some parents (and children) about the way they are allowing/instructing their children to treat him??? My eyes burn just thinking of it. Maybe you want to hear about how I diagnosed myself with advanced terminal melanoma, gave myself only weeks to live,and cried for 6 days until I could get in to see the dermatologist??? Well that story is a maybe!

10. set. hut.

My oldest son is 9. He is so smart, he's a great conversationalist, he has superior looks (he does favor me but I'm totally objective in this opinion) and he can be so sweet and charming at will. He is also a bit quirky and occasionally socially awkward, but his greatest flaw is that he is about as coordinated as the left testicle of an encephalitic monkey. Parenting him is equal parts challenging, humbling, rewarding and exhausting.

We have tried, to no avail, to get him into sports, ANY sport.
His baseball coach was visibly perturbed by the fact that was he had to share air with him (we found out definitively that there IS crying in baseball),
His tumbling coach gave up and let him run around the gym during practice,
His one (free trial) karate lesson ended with him saying "this blows" right in front of the sensai.
We did have some luck in basketball, but there was more disdain on the court when number 9 was out there.
Needless to say, I was more than taken aback when my husband asked him over dinner, one evening, if he wanted to sign up for football. Aside from the fact that we had "agreed" not to let the boys play full tackle football until junior high, I was concerned about the harmful effects of his multiple, failed attempts to participate in a pyhsical, team sport. Especially one in which paralysis and head injuries are listed among the injuries which may be sustained in playing said sport. BUT I gave in, as I often do because I do want him to be healthy and active. Another consideration is the fact that he is big for his age and as strong as an ox, or Lenny from Of Mice and Men (choose your own simile here).

Fast Forward to his first practice. He hustled like we have NEVER seen him hustle before. The hubs and I were both overjoyed that he seemed to have found a sport that he liked and was willing to put effort into. He left the field smiling and happy and was excited to go back the next day. We practically fell over ourselves giving each other high five's.
The second practice, well it was different. They had to wear full pads which meant that they would be tackling. I put my faith in the coaches to teach my son proper techniques and form before throwing him out there, but I was soon educated on the fact that "that isn't how it is done in football." Ummmm Yeah. He had NO IDEA what to do, and these coaches were yelling at him, using terminology he'd never heard before and threatening laps for insubordination. When the hubs tried to tell me that that is the way to teach, I unleashed (mildly) due to the fact that I'm a teacher and I know better even if I don't know shit about football.
Why I thought this group of coaches, whose collective IQ probably still borders on low average and who seem to be dealing with some leftover frustration for never making it past the JV team in high school, would take the time to actually coach is really just beyond me.
Needless to say he HATES football now, but I'm hesitant to let him quit. I mean, life is hard, sometimes things are challenging. Learning a little tenacity could go a long way in shaping him as a man, but then again so could quadriplegia.

Glitter and Unicorns

NO, not really. I just needed to prove (to my most loyal reader, the other 3 of you should take note)that I can make ANYTHING happen.

I still cannot sing...

When I was in 3rd grade my mom told me I could "be anything (I) wanted to be" and I believed her. I wanted to be a singer, she encouraged it. I stayed up late for 4 nights in a row hand-writing 3 original songs in my blue, wide-ruled spiral notebook. I practiced in front of the mirror, I practiced in front of my mom. I believed I was on my way to the Mickey Mouse club (which is the starting point for all great singers). I just needed an in, MOM suggested Star-Search. Perfect! She was always so full of good suggestions. I made an audition tape to send to Ed, I was ready to go... THEN (dun dun dun duuuuuuun) I listened to the tape......
Mom Fucking lied to me.
I sounded like a tone deaf cat with a hormone imbalance....
I couldn't even listen to the first song in it's entirety.
It was too painful.

What if the doctoral program is the same thing?
What if I'm not really smart enough to be there?
What if I am smart enough, what the hell am I going to do with this gratuitous degree anyway?
I doubt myself, my abilities, my ambition and tenacity.
I need to listen to the tape to gauge my worthiness and chances of success.

I still cannot sing.

It's called 'psychotic' for a reason...

I've been getting nailed for some of the things I said in my Marriage Cycle post, so I'm gonna clear a few things up.
First of all, it was a tongue in cheek post, if you couldn't see that then well, there is probably no hope for you anyway. I have no qualifications to dispense marriage advice except that I'm married, so what I say here means, nothing.

Secondly obviously there are exceptions, like if:

You have no children: Obviously a marriage without children is going to be an entirely different experience. I'm not saying it is any less of an experience, its just different. Sharing responsibility for not fucking up your kids is gonna change things, both for better and for worse sometimes...I'm sure I'd never leave phase 1 or 2 if the only things we argued about is where to eat dinner or where to take our next vacation.WHATEVER

You have been married a short time: My breaking point came at about 8 years. If you're sick of your spouse in the first few years of marriage then you should probably just run or brace yourself for a drinking problem.

You're delusional: If I know you well enough to have seen you experiencing a phase 3-4 moment and you are still telling me that you've never been out of 1 or 2...WHATEVER. Oh and btw, the phases are totally made up if you didn't already know that.

I knew a few people who disagreed with my post and, well, whatever, but when I was cornered by a 'friend' (who does not read this blog) in Target about how she was concerned about my marriage because she'd heard (since someone who does read the blog has been talking about me) that I'd discussed my issues in such a public way.(insert eye-roll and violent gagging here) I was more than a little bit annoyed. Especially since this person has the most fucked up marriage I've ever seen. Thankfully she is praying for me, so everything should improve soon.

It was a JOKE, yes I'm pissed at my husband for some assholish behavior, but I'm not going anywhere. I mean there are days when I dream of replacing him with an efficient landlord (to fix things) and a good vibrator (to, well, you know), but he does posses some redeeming qualities......(I'll cite examples when I can think of some)

When I am 34 (next year) I will have been with him for exactly half of my life, so yeah, shit hits the fan occasionally. I don't really think that means I need to be on your prayer list.

As far as discussing my issues here...check out the title of my blog, did you expect me to talk about rainbows and bunny rabbits?

Out of Context...

We survived our mini-road trip and returned intact.
I thought I'd share some of the conversation that took place during the 'quality time' we spent together in the car, the hotel, the restaurants, my sister's house, etc, etc. Many of them are fart themed, but I do have 3 boys so is there really anything else to talk about?
You'll have to enjoy them without the context in which they were spoken, but that's mostly because further explanation would just highlight the depth of our insanity

1. "I'm a farting expert, just bust it out and come back to the table."

2. "What the hell is a 'dream tomato', Please tell me you didn't think this was a song about vegetables?"

3. "That hair is at least 4 inches away from the hole, WTF is that about???"

4. "Is this what beaver really tastes like?"

5. "I think I should just throw these away, that last fart had a little surprise with it."

6. "There really isn't anything I can do about your penis right this minute."

7."I will play the wiener song if you stay quiet while I'm on the phone."

8. "All I've eaten for 3 days is beans, staying 10 feet away from you isn't going to change anything."

9. "Girls can't wear their underwear 2 days in a row because their balls smell worse than ours."

10. "I don't like girls, I like you Mommy, I just don't like pretty girls"

If I was going to be a drummer....

This is the one I would be. Watch the video, while you're there check out the rest of the blog. Hopefully I'm on the road by the time this is posted.