Friday, November 8, 2013

Halloween highlights, date nights and other crazy stuff

So I wrote a big long post about Halloween for you guys, but after reading it a couple of times, I decided that it sucked, so instead i'm just going to share some highlights:

*I accidentally sewed my daughter's costume sleeve together while trying to fix a small tear.
*My accident prone son ran face first into a highly visible, parked SUV and it was funny as hell (don't worry, he's fine)
*Peanut told everyone who answered the door that he liked their stairs. That went well.
*Peanut also shouted out, "WHOA this place smells like dog crap" as we walked up to someone's porch. I smiled and said, "My nephew makes such a great Woody, doesn't he?"
*Someone actually handed out Mexican lollipops with chili powder on the stick, that my 6 year old promptly puked up on the way home.
*Half of the candy we got was stale and I chipped a tooth on a petrified Starburst. Thank you to the cheap bastard who passed out last year's leftovers.
*I want to be the cool house in the neighbor and since i'm too lazy to decorate, i'm handing out Melatonin instead of candy. You're welcome parents!

Warning: If you see these children please proceed with caution. 
They are armed with a crazy mother. 
Enough about Halloween since it's so last year.  I went on two dates with the hubby last weekend. TWO! We went to see Cut Copy in Portland and it was pretty awesome, except that I felt really old. Maybe that's because I am old, but we made it to the front row and I sort of slumped over the railing and used my floppy boobs to hold me up and then silently prayed for it to end so I could hurry home and slather some Icy Hot on my aching knees. Paaaarty animal!   Then on Sunday we went on a lunch cruise, and that was really fun, but i'll post more about that on a different post.

Here we are at Cut Copy. Everyone else looked all young and hipster and I 
looked like I robbed an Old Navy store just moments before the show. 
The other day I reached an all time low when I posted this as my Facebook status:

"My van has a pukey towel in it, a stool sample for the dog's vet appt, and Peanut's shoes with poo stuck on the soles. And I wonder why I have no friends. Oh and i'm wearing granny panties with leggings and an overnight maxi just in case you still thought I had a shred of friend appeal left."

Speaking of friends, I honestly don't have that many.  I know it's totally shocking that someone with my optimistic, sunshiney personality wouldn't be drowning in friends, isn't it? Over the years, i've found it really difficult to maintain friendships and juggle five kids and a husband and all that fun stuff that makes life so magical.  I'm busy, or tired, or just feel like a big blob of poop and don't want to leave my couch, etc. Eventually people just stop calling and I totally get it.  I wouldn't really want to keep trying with someone like me either.  I'm kind of weird. I talk too much and don't know when to stop.  On Weds our 9 year old had her end of the season soccer party and I got seated across from the one and only family in Portland who goes to church. I know, right?  We start talking and somehow the subject of customer service jobs comes up and I briefly worked as a customer service rep for a major credit card company. I'm telling her a story about my first call and of course it has the word asshole in it. I can't help it. It's an integral part of the story, I swear.  As soon as I said it, my husband nudged me under the table. This is his, "Shut up honey" nudge but I just had to keep talking and talking and talking.  I noticed at the end of the night she was programming all of the other mom's phone numbers into her phone, but I got skipped. I just had to tell the asshole story! Until they come up with invisible duct tape, i'm most likely going to remain friendless.

Yesterday I sat on the couch watching Spongebob with the kids while wearing fugly PJ's without a bra, unbrushed hair and teeth, and eating honey BBQ chicken strips as if I were trying to set a new world record, when I got a text from my hubby that one of our mutual friends (but mostly my hubby's friend cause remember I don't really have any) who works on a very popular TV show, is also working on a movie set with a very famous actress (I wont say which one but you've definitely heard of her).  Our friend went out with super famous actress last night and they sang karaoke and at first I felt a little bit jealous like, "Wow, so you mean people actually live in a world that doesn't include washing numerous loads of mismatched towels drenched in dog pee or catching kid puke with a single Taco Bell napkin in the van (that actually happened this week)?  But seriously, I know I have a lot to be thankful for (like my daughter's detention getting cancelled so I didn't have to sit and wait for her in the parking lot), and that things could always be a lot worse (I could be pregnant again).






Monday, October 28, 2013

I'm a snake. Or not.

I finally sit down to type out a post and guess what happens?  My mind goes completely blank.  My Lifetime movie is blaring in the background, Peanut is yelling at me from the other room, and all I can think about is how quiet the dog is being, which usually means i'll be cleaning up dog poo or urine soon.

Things are still very overwhelming in our house, hence my long term absence on my blog.  The puppy requires constant supervision, and i'm struggling to keep up with housework and bill paying and all that fun stuff (as if I was caught up on all that stuff before we got the dog, but whatever).  I haven't purchased Halloween costumes for my kiddos yet.  At least I wont be needing to purchase a costume for myself, as I seem to be doing a fabulous job of looking like a hobo.  My son has a birthday in two days and I have nothing purchased or planned yet.  I'll include my address at the end of this post so you know where to send me my Mom of the Year Award.

At least we had a busy, fun filled weekend, as typically our weekends consist of sitting on the couch watching sports.  My sister in law came to visit with her family. I feel like I hardly got to talk to them or play with my newest, little nephew because the dog is just so demanding.  I'm hoping they come back up for Thanksgiving, and that Olive will be a little easier to deal with.


This morning I could barely get out of bed.  It was one of those mornings where I woke up before the alarm went off.  I had ten minutes left to sleep and those minutes were like my favorite chocolate that the kids never found.  When it was time to get up for real, I rolled my big, lazy body over the edge and hurled myself over the edge.  I staggered down the hall, tried to adjust my blurry eyes and freaked the hell out.

I thought I saw a snake.  I know, right?  But it was only some gaffer tape that Olive had chewed up from under the ottoman (cause we're classy like that).

It looks snake like. Sort of. Or not. 

But it does make me think of my favorite YouTube video of all times: 

Anywho, I certainly have my work cut out for me this week.  I need to get off this computer, figure out whether Olive is eating a dog treat or part of our ottoman (they look pretty similar to be honest).  Then I need to pay our water bill before the water company shuts off our water and we're taking showers with dirty gutter water.  I need to plan something for my poor son's birthday so he doesn't grow up and resent me.  Then I need to find Halloween costumes that don't look like they came straight from the Playboy Mansion.  Basically I need to become a magician.



Monday, September 30, 2013

Minted Review

For the past few years i've been saying i'm going to send out holiday cards, but then I end up getting busy and forget to send them out. However, this year i'm determined to send them out, so i'm getting an early jump start on the process.  I have decided to go with an adorable online stationery shop by the name of Minted.  You can find so many fun paper products on Minted, such as wedding invitations, save the date cards, new baby announcements, birthday invites, and so much more!

The hardest part has been deciding on a design because I truly love them all.  You are sure to find a design that you love, as there are pages and pages of amazing designs to look through.  Another thing I found neat about Minted, is that it is powered by thousands of independent designers.  If you don't care for one designer's style, you are sure to love another.

Love this one! 

I'm really leaning towards the photo Christmas card, if (and this is a big if), we can get our five little darlings to cooperate long enough to get a picture that doesn't include closed eyes, crying, or nose picking.

For those of you who prefer non photo holiday cards, they also have traditional cards that are very lovely.

I absolutely adore this one! 

They even have holiday postcards! 
I love this idea!  

Check one thing off your holiday to do list by visiting Minted and ordering your cards today! 

*I was not compensated for this review but I did receive Minted credit in exchange for my review. All opinions are my own. 

Friday, September 27, 2013

That one time when I tried to breastfeed the dog

I know I keep repeating myself like a toddler these days..."Hey mom, you know what?  Hey mom, you know what?" Yeah, like that.  But seriously, my life feels like a cheesy horror flick and i'm the main character that just wont die off (but without the bonus of having oversized, perky breasts).  So once again, I find myself apologizing for not being around much to blog.

I'm exhausted.  I mean ex....haus....ted.   I've been going to bed earlier than I ever have in my life thanks to Olive waking me up at the butt crack of dawn, but i'm still dog ass tired in the morning.  And I even look and probably smell like a dog too because I can't even remember the last time I washed my hair, shaved my legs (or other parts), or put on make up, or wore clothes that didn't have remnants of last night's dinner.  Yep, i'm a sexy bitch all right.

I'm so exhausted that the other day I was sitting on the couch like a zombie, when Olive jumped up on the couch next to me. I instinctively lifted up my shirt to offer her boobs (habit from breastfeeding Peanut for so dang long).  She looked at me all confused and for a split second I was thinking, "Sweet, maybe she's finally ready to wean" and that's when it hit me that I was trying to breastfeed my dog.  That's gotta be cuttin it dangerously close to rock bottom, you think?

Is this chick serious?
*Pic borrowed from Google

On Wednesday (known as my hell day because Weds are half days in our district and they are crazy), I made it to the evening where the only thing I had left to do was take Bo's to soccer practice. Okay, I could handle that, so I thought.  I got her ready to go which is always a nightmare because she's super slow to do anything and therefore she's perpetually late to everything (like my husband).  We made it to the school and found her team (which happened to be playing in the far field so by the time I made it there I sounded like an 80 year old with emphysema because i'm fat and out of shape).

I noticed right away that all of the girls were dressed in their game jerseys, black shorts, hair pulled back, etc. My daughter was wearing a pink tank top with an ice cream cone on it.  I walked up to another parent and asked, "Do they have team pictures or something?"  He looked at me like I was a moron and said, "Um, no, they have a game."  And it started in 15 min! Awesome!  So, I ran back across the field towards my minivan and I called my husband to tell him they had a game (while I was attempting to run). I was panting heavily because I don't run, not even if you hold out a giant tray of donuts to tempt me (well, okay, maybe I would run for donuts).  He automatically assumed I had gotten mugged.  Out of breath wife, apparently means muggage.  I drove home, dug through the dirty laundry for the game jersey, got back into my van and raced back to the game.  Luckily I got there in time but I was sweating like a pig and completely out of breath.  I threw my mother f#@king fold out chair on the ground (while it was still in the bag) to catch my breath and it landed on my foot, nearly slicing off a toe.  I had to act tough while inside I was screaming, "Son of a f#@king monkey loving b$#ch!!!!!"

I'm not sure how this weekend could possibly top the week I had, but i'm already on a roll. I got woken up at 5 am by Olive trying to chew my hair right off my scalp and my period showed up as well. Did I mention we have an extra soccer practice tonight and an 8:30 am game on Saturday?



Thursday, September 19, 2013

We got a puppy

I know I completed vanished off the face of the Earth, but I have a valid excuse.  We got a puppy! Two weeks ago, on a Saturday, the hubby and I drove three hours to Seattle to pick up Olive.  She's a purebred Hungarian Vizsla and pretty stinkin cute, which is good for her, since i'm not too thrilled about getting up with her at 6 am every morning. My life now consists of cleaning up pee and poop, making sure she's not destroying my house or getting into something that could hurt her, feeding her, playing with her, and breaking up wrestling matches with the boys.  Hmmmm, I guess you can say that not much has changed!

I feel terrible that I haven't been keeping up with this blog. It's not that I had so much more extra time last year to post, but I didn't have a dog, and I also wasn't homeschooling a Kindergartener.  I'm realizing that I just can't do it all.  I have five kids.  Sometimes I forget that.  Okay, no I don't, but I compare myself to other bloggers who don't have five kids and I really shouldn't do that.  I'm not saying i'm going to stop writing on Life On Peanut Layne.  Nope, sorry you can't get rid of me that easily. I just need to cut myself a break, while I try to figure out a realistic routine that doesn't involve me having a nervous breakdown where I find myself curled up in a ball on my dog pee stained rug.

Since this is our first dog, I decided to start a dog blog journaling our dog owning experiences.  A dog blog. Nerd alert! Yes, I could just use this blog, but I totally get that not everyone wants to read about my dog.  I have never been a dog person, until we got Olive and now i'm slightly obsessed with her.  Well, okay...I did have a brief moment of regret the other morning when I was running seriously late dropping my daughter off at school and I ran back in my room to grab my jacket and I stepped in a huge, steaming pile of fresh dog poop...and I was barefoot. 

And in case you don't feel like clicking on the link, this is our Olive. 
She's a keeper...even though she poops on my floor. 






Tuesday, September 3, 2013

How much is that doggy in Ohio?

Image found on Google 

Since we are all done having babies and our kids are getting older, we decided that now is the perfect time to get a dog to complete our family.  The kids have always wanted one and I feel a bit of a void because I never had a dog growing up.  I've actually never owned a dog, ever.  We were the crazy cat family growing up.  We typically had 4-5 cats at any given time.  My mom was not a fan of dogs, so we never got one despite my brother and I begging and pleading every year.  Well, okay we owned a puppy for about a week. Seriously.  Someone drove through our neighborhood and literally dropped a puppy off on our driveway and drove away.  He was adorable and my brother and I really wanted to keep him.  My mom briefly considered it, until the puppy chewed through her favorite lamp cord.  He was re-homed by the following day.

We knew we wanted a dog, and after many hours of research, my husband decided on a Vizsla.  These are not common dogs and are not easy to find. I painstakingly started the difficult process of finding us an adorable, female, Vizsla puppy.  Much to my surprise I found a breeder named "Peggy" who had not one, but multiple female Vizsla puppies in Hillsboro, which is a well known suburb of Portland.

I forwarded the ad to my husband who started emailing her right away.  My husband pretty much gave her our life story.  He wanted her to know that we were serious about getting a dog and that we've done our research and would love her and take care of her, etc.  I'm pretty sure the only piece of info he left out in his 10,000 page emails were our blood types. The breeders responses were kind of vague for the amount of info my husband was giving her, but she did say she still had a couple of females available and she sent us pictures.  We fell in love with one pup in particular.  We started picking out names.  The hubby was shopping for doggy supplies on his lunch break.  We started to prepare ourselves for the possibility that we would be bringing her home in a couple of weeks.   

We scheduled a meeting for this Sunday to come to her house to see the puppies.  We were beyond excited.  We had our deposit ready and we were prepared to fill out paperwork.  Our hope was that we would meet her this weekend and then be able to return on the 14th to pick her up.  That was our plan. We just needed her address and we were ready to go. 

On Thursday night after getting the kids in bed I heard my husband yell from the bathroom, "Babe" but not in a "Oh I love you so much, babe" tone. Rather it was the "we've been married way too long" tone.  Yeah, that one.  I rolled my eyes figuring maybe I bought the wrong toilet paper, or I forgot to do something, missed someone's birthday, etc. 

My annoyance quickly turned to shock. This was our conversation: 

Him: BABE, did you NOT think to check which state this lady lives in? 

Me: Huh? What do you mean?

Him: She lives in Ohio.  OHIO.  

Me: What do you mean Ohio.  The ad said HILLSBORO. She lives in Oregon. 

Him: Yeah, Hillsboro, OHIO. 

Me: Oh. 

Him: Closes bathroom door. 

Me: Walks away to sulk. 

I knew my husband needed some time to himself.  He was so excited about meeting the dogs this Sunday that this was a devastating blow.  I was extremely upset and disappointed as well. I had a migraine headache and was out of soda which is my stress reliever.  I got in the car and drove to McDonald's to get my dollar soda. 

I get a text from the husband.  "Get me a hot fudge sundae"  Then a few minutes later I get another text. "And a Vizsla".  

By the time I got home, things were a little better.  We began to joke about the situation because really, what else can you do? 

This is how we get over the bad stuff: 

Him: The worst part about all of this is not getting to email with Peggy again. I'm going to miss the old lady. 

Me: She's probably working on a restraining order right now.  

Him: Every time she hears about Portland, she's going to think of us. And think we're nuts.  Maybe she thought we were really rich and that's how we were able to travel from OR to OH to get a dog.  I did tell her you were a writer.  Perhaps she thinks you're a sexy writer. 

That was it.  I lost it. I began to laugh so hysterically that a piece of tortilla chip became lodged in my esophagus and I even peed my pants a little.   Me, a sexy writer? I'm not sure what that even means, but I can't even type or say that out loud without rupturing an organ from laughing so hard. 

We spent the rest of the evening drooling over pictures of cute little doggies online and joking over our unfortunate mistake.  We learned a valuable lesson that night. If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.  And if you live in Hillsboro, Ohio and are looking for a Vizsla, then you're in luck!  



Monday, August 26, 2013

Our Little Peanut

As someone recently diagnosed with a very rare medical disorder, I should not be surprised that my own son is gearing up for his own mystery diagnosis.

It all started about 2-3 months ago.  Peanut started crying one night before bed that his neck hurt.  Thinking perhaps he strained his neck earlier in the day I was concerned, but didn't think much of it. He was a very healthy little guy and didn't complain much.  I gave him some children's pain reliever medicine and he went to bed.  The next day he seemed fine and all was well again, until the evening.  Then came the crying and more complaining of a sore neck.  By the next morning he was fine again and I was confused.  

Then the complaining completely stopped.  He seemed normal again.  We assumed it was a strained neck from sleeping wrong, or perhaps his much larger 5 year old brother had tackled him (hey anything is possible with five kids).  Then one day as I was buckling him into his carseat, he suddenly started grabbing at his neck and screaming.  He screamed bloody murder all the way home and didn't stop once we got home. He was in pain and I knew this was something more than a strained neck.  

I called his doctor and scheduled an appointment.  His doctor examined him and said, "Well, he's still rather small for his age, and his growth has been on the slow side.  I think it's his thyroid".  So off to the lab we went for some blood work.  Then we waited.   The results were pretty typical and the thyroid looked good.  The nurse advised me to try some children's allergy medicine and that his throat most likely hurt from seasonal allergies.  Okay.  I was skeptical since he doesn't really have any signs of seasonal allergies, but desperate to find a solution, we loaded up with various, expensive brands of children's allergy liquid medicine.  

The next month was blissfully normal.  He seemed happy and healthy again and was back to his regular Peanut shenanigans.  I started to feel confident that we could put this mysterious "neck pain" behind us.  My husband decided to take a couple of weeks off of work in August.  We planned our annual family trip to my dad's cabin in Bend.  We went shopping for the trip, we planned out our vacation days, we got all excited and then as quickly as his pain went away, it suddenly came back. Peanut once again began to scream, "Owww, owww, my neck hurts" only this time things weren't fine by the next morning and they weren't fine by the next evening and it became crystal clear that something was really wrong. I scheduled another appointment with his doctor, but unfortunately his doctor was out of town that following week and we were also supposed to be leaving town.  So I scheduled the first appointment he had once he returned from vacation, and we crossed our fingers that his pain would go away quickly as it had in the past.  

While we waited for his appointment we tried to go about our lives as normally as possible. The day before our trip we had a birthday party to attend for a close friend who's daughter was turning one.  My husband had to work so I took all five kids alone.  It was one of those moments where as soon as you get to the party, you quickly realize you should've just stayed home because Peanut was just not happy at all.  He was crying and hurting and fussing and I spent the entire party trying to bounce him up and down on my hip to comfort him. Yeah.  

He spent most of the party hiding in their playhouse and screaming at other kids to get out.  What can I say? He's socially gifted like his parents.
I got him home and noticed he felt a little warm.  Up until this point he had not had a fever at all.  He fell asleep rather early and the morning of our trip he woke up with a 103.5 fever.   The trip was off and to urgent care we went.  Unfortunately the doctor at urgent care couldn't help much because they don't deal with chronic medical issues, but she gave us the number for a pediatric ENT (ears, nose and throat specialist).  We called him as soon as we got home and were able to get him in for an appointment within two days. However, those two days were hell on earth for us.  Peanut was so uncomfortable and I was pretty much camped out with him on my bed.  We watched his favorite movie, Cat in the Hat about 10 billion times.  He wasn't eating, wasn't sleeping and we were counting down the minutes until his ENT appointment.  We were hoping to get some answers at the ENT, but he didn't give us any hints or clues as to what he suspected was wrong with Peanut.

However, he did send us to a children's hospital for a barium swallow study.  With a barium swallow test you cannot have anything to eat or drink for at least 4 hours before the test.  Peanut was pretty mad. Okay, he was pissed!  It was not a fun morning trying to explain to a 3 year old why they can't have anything to eat or drink.   The barium test went surprisingly easy.  The tech mixed his shake with cherry Torani syrup, which made J and I laugh because we love Torani syrup in our coffee.  I was nervous that he was going to refuse the shake, but he actually loved it and wanted to drink more...gross.  His swallow study test came back normal, which is awesome, but a tiny bit frustrating in a small way because now we are back to square one.  We were hoping to avoid the more invasive tests where he would have to put under with anesthesia, but that may not be possible at this point.

He was not happy about the no food rule
Modeling our sexy lead aprons with thyroid shields
We do not have any idea what's going on and why he's having these random cycles of pain.  We've Googled his symptoms until our fingers cramped and had many late night conversations of what we think is wrong, but we are just normal people, not doctors.  At this point the next step is another referral to a specialist for more testing.  This time he'll be seeing a gastroenterologist.  I'm also hoping he will be allergy tested.  

I've been so incredibly busy and stressed out this summer that I haven't had the time to blog like I did last summer. It seems like the older the kids get, the busier I get.  School starts back up in a week and honestly I don't even feel like I got a summer break yet.  This summer has flown by faster than any other summer I can ever remember.  I'm not ready for school at all.  My 8 year old needs uniforms purchased, I still have some random school supplies on the list to find, bills to catch up, phone calls to make, and just dozens of things that I put on the back burner when Peanut got sick.  

I have a few more posts to write and hopefully post this week.  Despite all of the drama, we did manage to escape to my dad's cabin for a few days last week so I will be blogging about our trip next.  We got home from our trip late Thursday night and my husband woke up Friday morning with a horrible case of food poisoning and spent most of the weekend puking his guts out.  I know, I know...you are all dying to be me right about now.  I get it.

Peanut seems to be doing okay for now.  He's had a couple of good weeks with minimal pain so we are happy about that.  At this point I don't have any answers to give so here is a really cute picture of him at the hospital.
and another one.....
Oh and I almost forgot....while we were at the hospital with Peanut, my soccer obsessed husband saw Diego Chara from the Portland Timbers (MLS soccer team).  He was walking in front of us and held the elevator door open for us, but he was going down and we were going up.  I held my breath thinking my hubby was going to humiliate us by following Chara around the hospital like a stalker (which the hubby later admitted he almost did), but luckily all he said to him was, "Go Timbers" and Chara smiled at us and said "Thank you".  Of course i've been teasing him as it was kind of dorky and funny that all my star struck hubby could muster up was "Go Timbers".   

Thursday, August 8, 2013

Slutty Goats

Clipart provided by Clker.com

My husband and I both suffer from insomnia. This typically leads to him pestering me about sex, and me lying on the couch like a vegetable whining about being tired.

We have some very interesting conversations late at night.  A few nights ago we started talking about Bengay, which somehow lead to the topic of men putting Bengay on their balls.  I just had to Google it to believe it. I Google everything and I do mean everything.

I especially love Yahoo questions and answers though. This is what I found when I Googled, "Do men really put Bengay on their balls" (They do by the way)

Question: 
"When I put bengay on my balls, it hurts. Is that normal?"

Best Answer (by arkleseizure):
"Normal that you're putting it on (no) or normal that it hurts (I don't think normal has been established, as people don't generally do this)"

Other Awesome Answers: 
"Burning, yes....putting it on, no"

"Try putting some of your rectum. It might help you forget you have it on your balls"

"Why would you put Bengay on your balls to begin with? Usually it's used for sore muscles and clearly your balls are not a muscle".

As if the conversation couldn't possibly get more intense, we started watching Animal Planet.  Slutty goats is what happens when the husband and I try to watch an evening of educational programming together.  I'm not even sure they were actual goats but they had horns and were ramming each other and the husband said, "Wow, talk about some slutty goats.  Look at that one.  She doesn't use the old 'I have a headache excuse'.  She's ready to get some."

I have some issues with this.  For one, I highly doubt that female goat has five children to take care, a mounting pile of medical bills, and an autoimmune disorder that affects her sex drive.  However, I could be totally wrong and if I am, i'm deeply sorry. I'm sure goats have their own set of problems.  And yes, I just Googled, "Common goat problems" in case you're wondering.  It turns out goats don't have it all that great either.  They often have twins.  Egads! No wonder they suffer from chronic urinary problems.

I feel your pain goat, I do.  If you weren't a goat, and didn't smell so horrifically funky, and I could get it in writing that you wouldn't take a dump on my couch, I would so have you over for some coffee, scones and girl talk.

Saturday, July 27, 2013

Facing your phobias and no this is not a how to guide

What do you do when you have an enormous phobia?  You face it head on.  And then you curl up in the fetal position and cry until you stop foaming at the mouth and can put a coherent sentence together.

This has been my life this past week, which is why I haven't been around to post.  I've been trapped in my own personal hell called downtown Portland.

My dear, sweet, wonderful hubby wanted to do something nice for our teenage daughter so he signed her up for a singing, dancing and acting class. Our daughter wants to be an actress/singer, plus that's just what we parents in Portland do. We sign our kids up for artsy fartsy stuff, while secretly hoping that they will rebel and go into a different career field that will actually pay the bills.  He signed her up at a local theatre on our side of town and assumed (you know what they say about people who assume things) that the class was going to be at the same location he signed her up at. Um, NO.

I was already nervous about driving her back and forth to and from the theatre when I thought it was near his work (actually it's close to Voodoo Doughnuts which I can totally live with), however, the night before the class on a Sunday night at 10 pm, I heard him say these dreaded words, "Hey babe. I was wrong.  Her class is actually downtown."  I froze.  I cringed. I prayed to sweet baby Jesus that he was just messing with me.  But he wasn't.  I fearfully asked him where downtown and he made a grimace and said, "Downtown, downtown. As in smack in the middle of the city".

I will admit, I freaked the hell out.  I technically already live in the city where we have a lot of heavy traffic, but it's not like downtown city traffic with one way streets and pedestrians everywhere.  I can literally count the number of times i've driven downtown alone and each time i've had a horrendous panic attack.  Hearing the news that I was going to have to not only drop her off around lunch time but pick her up at 3:30 so that meant TWO trips into the city every single day for TWO flipping weeks, sent me over the edge.

Needless to say I didn't sleep very well on Sunday night and by Monday morning I was ready to barf...I mean drive my daughter to her class.   I hit a few snags along the way, but it was a fairly smooth drive and thanks to my GPS on my iPhone, I figured out how to get home.  When I got home, I bragged to my husband about how victorious I was for making the round trip twice....TWICE PEOPLE!  He responded with a sly, "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you that Mondays aren't that bad at all. Tomorrow will be much worse".  Say what motherfucker?

Tuesday rolled around and he was right. Traffic was bad. The streets are short and my extended minivan is not exactly city friendly, but I did it.  Then Wednesday rolled around and I nearly lost my shit.  I ended up flipping the bird while trying to merge onto the Morrison Bridge.  The other driver freaked out and slammed on his breaks and then refused to let me in.  I waited until he finally decided to move his arse into the right lane and then I merged over.  Then came the fun part.  Making it across those damn city street intersections!  The blocks are so short and traffic backs up so even though there is a green light, you can't go through the green light or you're stuck in the middle of the intersection like a sitting duck.  And people don't like sitting ducks shaped like giant ass Dodge Caravans that block the entire intersection.  NO, they don't!  In fact people get pretty snarly with you and shake their heads as they gawd forbid have to walk around your van while you are hogging up their precious cross walk.

So, yeah, i'm blocking the crosswalk while a group of rebellious looking youth (geez, i'm getting old and turning into my parents) start to walk in front of my van to cross the street. I must say that flop sweats and slip on shoes do not go together well.  I lost my grip on the break pedal and accidentally lurched forward at the group of street kids. It was a total accident and in reality I didn't really even come close to hitting them, but it scared me and i'm sure deep down they were scared too even though they had to act tough.  Scared or not they didn't find it very amusing and I probably came close to getting the poop beat out of me.  One of them stopped right in front of my van with her arms crossed in front of her.  She was really mad and I was a little scared because i'm not a fighter kind of chick.  I'm more of a cry and lose bodily functions kind of girl.  However, I have this anxiety/temper thing that comes out when i'm feeling really stressed so instead of ignoring her I held up my hands and waved them at her and mouthed the words "You can go now" and I rolled my eyes at her. I don't know why I do the things I do. Seriously. It was dumb and i'm lucky she didn't break my face into pieces.  Either way, I managed to get my daughter to where she needed to be and then I sobbed like a newborn baby when I finally got out of the city and had merged onto the freeway to head home.  Cause that's totally normal to cry when you get out of the city, right?  Right?  Okay, moving on...

Thursday's drive was actually not that bad.  I was starting to get my groove back and feeling like I was earning my city driving stripes and then Friday happened.  I was trying to merge onto I-84 West and I couldn't even merge because traffic was backed up onto the off ramp which basically means, "You ain't  going anywhere".  We sat in traffic for over 30 minutes because there was an accident that had two of the three lanes blocked.  By the time we passed the accident, the lanes just opened up and we made it to her class, but she was really late. Feeling stressed to the max, I made it out of downtown and I raced over to Trader Joe's, fought like hell for a parking spot and then drove to Winco cause when you're already in hell, why not just stay for awhile?  I barely had enough time to go home and unload all of the groceries before I had to drive back into the city to pick up my daughter.  Getting into the city wasn't so bad, but getting out was another story.  The freeway was a parking lot.  Luckily I know a shortcut thanks to my hubby so it could've been much worse. We had to stop at another store on the way home to get medicine because my 8 y/o broke her toe by doing gymnastics in the house (after I told her numerous times she was going to break something but no one listens to me) and I was a dummy and forgot to buy it earlier. I got home just before 5 pm.  I felt like collapsing onto the floor in the fetal position and drooling on myself, but my joints were throbbing so I lathered myself up with joint cream instead.

I admire anyone who can drive around big cities like it's no big deal.  It is a big deal for me.  I'm tempted to move to a small, country town out in the middle of nowhere where the only other residents are some sheep and maybe a couple of goats.   I'm also in awe of bus drivers.  They are like rockstars to me now.  Forget the Biebs.  Do you honestly think he could drive a gigantic bus in downtown Portland without plowing people over or peeing his pants?  I don't think so!  Seriously though, I would rather clean public toilets using my own toothbrush than to be a TriMet driver in Portland.  Okay, so maybe I would use my husband's toothbrush instead, but still, that would be the most terrifying job in the world. Forget Deadliest Catch (okay don't cause I freaking love that show) but there needs to be a show about bus drivers who drive around in the city.  Is there a show like that?  I would totally watch it, on my couch with my brown paper bag and the flop sweats.

This is a TriMet bus in case you're wondering what the hell TriMet is (image courtesy of Google):
Five days of this torture left (not that i'm counting down or anything). 

Thursday, July 18, 2013

Peanut butter hoarding

Choosy moms choose Jif, apparently every single time they go to the store (which is often).  The sad part is I was completely oblivious to the overabundance of peanut butter in my pantry until the hubby got home from work and said, "Holy hell, why do we have a million freaking jars of peanut butter?"

I replied with, "There aren't that many. Just a few" and that's when he started pulling them out of the pantry one by one and lining them up on my counter.

Holy poop! It's like we're saving up for a peanut butter armageddon or something!!!! 
Is there a 12 step program for peanut butter hoarders? Peanut butter anonymous?  Anything?  Hello, I obviously need some help here people!!!!  How is it that we have SEVEN jars of peanut butter, but yet we're constantly running out of toilet paper and have to resort to using napkins?!   You wanna know what's even more pathetic than having a bazillion jars of peanut butter? Spell checking the word "seven". Yup, guilty as charged.

So, what do you do when you have 12,000 jars of peanut butter?  You make a crap ton of peanut butter cookies (or bunner bunner cookies) as Peanut calls them.

Yes, i've shared this recipe on my blog before, but i'm going to share it again.  And then i'm going to drive to the store to buy more peanut butter.

Three Ingredient Peanut Butter Cookie Recipe (created by someone really creative and awesome on Allrecipes because there is no way I could ever come up with a recipe that didn't completely suck): 

1 cup of peanut butter (or 7 jars...kidding)
1 cup of white sugar
1 egg

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Mix ingredients together and drop onto greased cookie sheets.  Take a fork and make a criss cross pattern.  Bake for approx 6-8 minutes.  Do not burn these!  They will taste like dog poop.  You're welcome.


Tuesday, July 9, 2013

You smell like gorgonzola

I'm bored. And please spare me your, "If you're bored then you're boring" because that's telling me something I already know.  Duh.  I am boring!  Seriously though, the endless summer days just draaaaaaag on at times.  I love my kids. I do. But there are only so many, "Mom, will you get me...." or "Mom, can I have a......." or "Mom, he called me a......" that I can take without snapping.  Jeezus!!!!
Yesterday was one of those days where I kept checking Facebook like a bazillion times, hoping for some excitement, but apparently boring people have boring friends because there wasn't any good drama to speak of.  Rather just pictures of cats or food or cats eating food...sigh.  Of course it's highly possible that i've been blocked from most of my friends. I don't really blame them.  I'm kind of a whiner.  I know people hate the whiners on Facebook, but I personally have a soft spot in my heart for the negative nellies.  I'm more of a "If you can't say something nice, then come sit next to me" kinda gal.

I was so bored that I decided I was going to grab the bulls by the balls and pay some bills.  Then I realized that we have several major bills all due this pay period and my hubby doesn't get paid for almost two weeks and I nearly vomited blood from the stress.  So, now i'm bored and broke.

My boredom continued throughout the day and by the time my husband got home from work, I was excited to finally have some adult interaction.  However, my excitement was quickly squashed when I looked to my left and saw him snoring away on the couch, thus leaving me on my own to get his spawn into bed.  That hard working bastard who thinks he deserves a nap!  Geesh!!!!

To top it off i'm almost out of Bengay and i've been in a crap ton of pain lately.  My medical problems suck but since we owe about five kidneys worth of medical bills, I can't really afford to go back at the moment.  I've been lathering myself up with enough Bengay to cover the Golden Girls.  Last night Peanut turned to me and said "Momma, you really stink".   Bo's also had an endearing comment for me, "Mom, you smell like gorgonzola."  Alrighty then.  So i'm boring, broke, in pain and I smell like stinky cheese.

The worst part (aside from smelling like gorgonzola), is that I feel guilty for not being one of those perky moms with tons of energy who dresses her kids up in matchy matchy outfits and takes them to the zoo by myself.  Have you ever been to the Portland Zoo? It may not be the San Diego Zoo, but that son of a biotch is huge!  I can maybe walk through the entrance and then i'm done.  I don't have the stamina nor the patience to attempt outings with my three youngest kids on my own (my teens are gone for two weeks).   I would be on the evening news for sure.

The headline would go something like:

"Tonight's top story....A mom of five got eaten by a gorilla as she fell into his cage while attempting to tie her son's shoe.  Investigators are still trying to piece it all together and many questions still remain like why couldn't her son tie his own shoes?  Zoo employees on the scene believe the gorilla mistakingly thought she was a piece of gorgonzola cheese."

Do gorillas even like gorgonzola?

But anyways, yeah, i'm kind of a klutz.  For example last night I tried to rub some lotion on my legs as I attempted to hoist my giant leg onto the counter.  Just when my hubby was starting to get turned on and had high hopes of getting lucky (yes, sadly when you've been together for a million zillion years, all it takes is a bare leg and the hubby takes that as a sexual advance), my foot slid off the counter and I smacked my face on the counter on the way down to the floor.

Today has been much better though.  My kids woke up screaming for brownies.  My husband said no as he was walking out the door and then looked at me and said, "It's up to you."  Great, just throw me to the wolves why dontcha?

Then the phone rang.  It was my dad who sounded like something was wrong.  I started to panic as he is the only parent I have left and he already had prostate cancer about 15 years ago.  He started off the conversation with, "I have some bad news".  I braced myself and took some deep breaths.  Then he continued with, "I have to go to Portland to do some judging" (my dad is a retired circuit court judge but still works on occasion in case you're wondering).   I nervously asked him, "Ok, so what's the bad news?"  He responded with, "That is the bad news. I'll be in town for a week."   Really, dad?  I mean you couldn't just say on the phone that everything was okay?  My dad thinks he's a comedian (kinda like me), but he's not funny (kinda like me), so his jokes are never funny and are typically inappropriate (now you know who I got it from).  After I recovered from nearly having a heart attack, we started talking about other stuff.  Then the kids realized I was on the phone and they decided that was the perfect time to start screaming about brownies.
The screaming and chaos got my dad off the phone real fast and could possibly explain why he would associate coming to visit us for a week as "bad news".  I would love to see what's in his suitcase. Probably a lifetime supply of ear plugs and Tums.   I don't know, but I must end this now as my son is yelling, "Mom, come wipe my butt". Apparently tying shoes isn't the only skill we need to work on this week.



Saturday, July 6, 2013

Weekends with Peanut Layne

Well, it's official.  I'm the worst blogger in history. Yep, I am.  I'm lucky if I blog once a week at this point (on a good month).  Not to mention it takes me forever to moderate my comments so please don't feel bad if it takes me a month or longer to approve your comment.  It's not you, it's me.  ALL ME.  It's called laziness and it's contagious in our house.  I'm behind on writing blogs, reading blogs and commenting on blogs (geesh, do you think i've said the word "blog" enough?) so that's my goal for this week (to actually get blogging stuff done), along with losing 50 lbs. That's not too much to ask is it?

So, what has been going on in the Peanut Layne house you may be asking? Or maybe you're not asking at all, but who cares, because i'm gonna tell you anyways!  This weekend has been super exciting. Ok, so no, it hasn't.  Last night (Friday night), the husband and I put the kids to bed and partied, and by partied I mean we sat on the couch (separate couches because I need room to stretch out my legs, and the hubby hates the smell of my Bengay lotion) and watched a National Lampoons marathon on VH1.  The husband made a Dutch Bros coffee run which was super sweet but I knew exactly what that meant...he was going to expect sex for his good deed.  Yep, I saw right through his random act of kindness.

Before the sex the husband started complaining about not having any junk food in the house.  He had this brilliant idea to take some tortillas (I think they've been in the fridge since season 3 of Weeds...you know before the series turned to shit) and spread butter, cinnamon and sugar all over them.  He insisted I help him eat them, and since i'm not one to turn down sugar, I agreed.

Within about 10 minutes of eating the sugary tortillas of death, my stomach was gurgling and angry with me.  Just what you want when you're about to have sex.  I didn't have the heart to tell my husband that the entire time we were having sex, I was concentrating on bowel control.

Today the party continued as I had to run to Winco to buy groceries.  As I was walking out of Winco, I dropped our pizza face down on the parking lot ground.  Gross.  I got home and handed it over to the hubby and told him to check it for hypodermic needles before tossing it into the oven.

Speaking of the hubby he ditched me tonight so he could go a local pizza place/bar and watch a UFC fight with his buddies. Our 8 y/o daughter asked me as he was leaving, "He's not going to one of those root beer places is he? Cause those are really bad."  After I finished laughing I figured I would take this time to catch up on chick flicks but come to find out the husband set a bunch of parental controls. DAMN HIM!  Of course I hit the wrong button while cursing over the parental controls and it landed on Spongebob so my dreams of watching TV tonight have been shattered.

I wish I had more funny stuff but I got nothin.  My 5 y/o son said the strawberries I bought looked like butt cheeks.  The sad thing is, they kinda do.




Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Apple Magic Trackpad from Staples Review

I love Staples. I love Apple.  When asked to do a review by Staples for an Apple product, I couldn't say no.

My Apple Magic Trackpad arrived super quickly which is fantastic because I couldn't wait to try it out.  I have a slight Apple obsession and we have a house full of Apple products (iPhones, iPods, MacBook Pro and a couple of Mac computers).  The only thing missing in our house was an Apple Magic Trackpad.  We had a really annoying old mouse and we've been missing a mousepad for several years.  I think my daughter used it for an art project and cut it up into pieces or something. Who really knows?

For those who don't know what an Apple Magic Trackpad is, it's an amazing little gadget that replaces a mouse. It's very similar to the trackpad that is built into a MacBook, but even bigger and easier to use.  No more banging your mouse on the desk out of frustration.  This is a hassle free, one handed, multi-touch device and you will love it!  You can click, scroll, swipe and rotate with ease!  The Trackpad is cordless so no annoying wires or cords to get in your way and prevent you from doing what you want to do.


PROS: 

  • Works on any surface
  • Comfortable design
  • Glides smoothly
  • Great features
  • Accurate tracking
As a blogger, i'm on my MacBook or desktop a lot (probably too much) so this device comes in really handy and saves me lots of time and aggravation.   My husband works in the film industry and does many hours of professional video and photo editing, so much to my dismay, he loved my Apple Magic Trackpad so much, that he "borrowed" it and took it to work.  I don't think i'll be getting it back anytime soon, so I will be ordering an additional one in the near future for our home computer. 

Here is my Apple Magic Trackpad stealer hard at work: 

You can purchase your Apple Magic Trackpad HERE.  And while you're at it, I recommend ordering a Staples Easy Button if you have kids (or even if you don't have kids).  The kind people of Staples included one with my trackpad and my kids play with it all the time.  Heck, even my teenagers love it! 


Full disclosure: Staples.com provided me with these products for review. The thoughts and opinions expressed are strictly my own. Feel free to shop their entire line of apple accessories online.


Monday, July 1, 2013

One crazy week

Oh lordy, i'm almost 40.  Okay, so 35 but still I feel old.  This week has been absolutely insane.  I know I don't usually write a weekly wrap up, but this one is definitely wrap up worthy.

It all started on Thursday with Peanut. We're going through some worrisome stuff with him that I haven't been posting about because I don't like to get all personal when it comes to the kids. I had to take him to the doctor and then over to the lab to get blood drawn.  I hate it when the kids have to get poked with needles. It's seriously heartbreaking, but Peanut did amazing and didn't shed a tear.  I was impressed, as was the lab tech.

I made it home from a long, out of town doctor's appointment with Peanut, quickly threw some dinner into the crock pot and sat down on the couch to clear my head and regroup.  I had a million things to get done before I headed out of town the following day for a Pee Book signing in Seattle, but sitting down and relaxing for a minute felt like Heaven.

Then my husband called. He was complaining of a migraine.  Both of us get migraines so I didn't think much of it.  Since it was late in the afternoon I told him he should just come home.  He had some really important stuff to get done at work, so he said he would run to the store next to his office, get some headache medicine and go back to work to finish up but that he would be home soon.  Not even 15 minutes after we hung up, he called me again which I found odd, but figured maybe he just forgot to tell me something.  However, as soon as he started talking, I could tell that something was immediately very wrong.  The first thing out of his mouth was, "I need help. My body is shutting down."  Say what?  I of course freaked out and started yelling into the phone, "What do you mean your body is shutting down?"  Inside my head I was thinking, "Can you PLEASE elaborate for me?"

He wasn't able to talk much but managed to squeak out that he was at a gas station near his work.  Then the phone went dead.  I freaked out.  I grabbed my purse and yelled at the teens to watch the younger kids and that I had to go.  The younger kids have this funky routine at the door where you have to give them a certain number of hugs and kisses (yes, we're all a little wacky in this house).  However, I didn't even say goodbye.  I grabbed my purse and ran.  I weaved in and out of traffic like Sandra Bullock from Speed.  Seriously, I don't even remember how I got to my husband, but I made it in record time.   By the time I got to him, he was slumped over the wheel and not making much sense.  I had to transfer him into my van (not an easy task when someone is close to death and weighs more than you) and then move his car so it didn't get towed.  I was driving around downtown Portland trying to find a spot to leave his car where A) It wouldn't get towed B)Wouldn't get stolen C)Wasn't too hard to parallel park as I suck at parking.

I found a place to park on a residential street and then ran back to my van.  By this point my husband was totally delirious.  He was saying he couldn't feel anything and was kind of flopping around like a fish out of water.  It was scary. Of course we hit like every single red light on the way to the hospital so i'm yelling at cars and pedestrians to get the hell out of my way.  I pulled up to the ER and jumped out of the van.  By this point my legs felt like rubber bands.  I yelled out at the vallet parking guys, "I need help".  Before I knew it an entire crew of medical people were pulling my husband out of my van and transferring him into a wheelchair.  Then he was gone.  The vallet parking guy was asking me my name so he could write it on my ticket stub thingy and my mind went blank.  I managed to remember my name after stammering for a minute and then he said, "Ma'am, I need your keys so I can move your car".  I didn't even realize it, but I had such a tight death grip on my keys that my hand was white.   I handed him the keys and a nurse took me by the arm and lead me into a back entrance.

My husband was already back in a room.  By the time I walked in, I gasped.  There were so many people in the room that I could barely move.  I was sandwiched into a tiny corner by a sink.   They were ripping off his clothes, as his pants and shoes were tossed into the air.  It was one of the worst moments of my entire life. It was something straight out of a movie or ER episode, but minus the actors and bright camera lights.  This was real life and there was nothing theatrical about it.  They hooked him up to every kind of monitor you could imagine.  Things were beeping, people were yelling, and I watched helplessly as my best friend was basically being worked on by about 20 different doctors and nurses.

His stats were stable but he still wasn't responsive.  His eyes were open and staring straight up towards the ceiling.  I feebly attempted to answer questions over the roar of emergency staff.  It was not easy, but I held myself together.  I had no choice. I was their only source of information as to who they were working on, as my husband couldn't speak at all.

He was taken back to CT for a head scan.  He had an EKG and chest x-rays.  The doc mentioned she was concerned of bleeding in his brain.  Sweet Jesus, I felt my knees buckle again.  As quickly as all of the commotion started, it became completely, eerily silent.  The room had cleared out, except for his nurse.  All I could hear was the beeping of the machines.  I broke down.  I began to cry and shake.  I felt like I was going to vomit or pass out.  I actually had a pounding headache myself, but didn't have a chance to take any pills before I ran out of my house. The nurse (who was very awesome by the way) came over and held onto my arm and said, "Come on hun. Let's go for a walk".   She took me around the floor and over to the water station where she poured me a cup of ice water.  "You were amazing in there" she said.  She went on to say how helpful I was and that they were impressed by how calm I remained and that I was able to stay focused and answer their questions.  I didn't really know how to respond, except to say "Thanks, I was just trying to get him here as quickly as I could".  I certainly didn't feel very amazing. I felt guilty for staying so calm during such an emergency.  I felt numb.  I can't explain it, but it's almost as if I was preparing myself for a bad outcome. The doctor advised me to call his family members and advise them of his condition.   I pulled out my phone and saw that I had 8 percent power and no charger. Perfect.  I still had to call the kids at home so I knew what I had to do.  I Facebooked it. I'm not proud of it, but that's the only way I knew how to update family without having to individually call or text them.  I then called the kids and gave them instructions on how to turn off the crock pot and fix dinner.  Thank goodness for the stinking crock pot or who knows what my darling children would've consumed for dinner.

I sat perfectly still in a chair while he slept. At least I think he was sleeping. I'm not really sure where he was to be honest.  It was like he had crossed over into some kind of special place, and I wasn't included. I cried a little, but mostly just sat in my chair.  I had so many thoughts racing through my mind.  I thought about my kids at home.  I thought about my husband.  I thought about Peanut's test results.  I thought of things I never thought i'd have to think of.  A few hours after his CT scan, my husband turned his head towards me and asked, "How did I get here?" Hearing him ask me a question was the best feeling ever.  A wave of relief washed over me, but i'll admit, I was still scared shitless.  I started telling him the sequence of events, and of course he didn't remember any of it.  It took him a little while, but the more we talked, the more he started to make sense.  My husband was coming back to me, little by little.

After several bags of IV fluid, some heavy duty pain meds in his IV and some anti-nausea medicine, he was looking more like his old self.   His doctor came in and said that his potassium levels were really low so she's assuming this was a bad mixture of dehydration, low potassium levels and a killer migraine.

After what felt like an eternity they unhooked him from the monitors and let him walk around.  He was able to go to the bathroom, so they agreed he could go home that night, provided he follow up with his doc first thing next week.  This was music to my ears because when we first arrived, I was told he would most likely be transferred upstairs and would remain there for several days.

By the time we got home it was almost morning.  I told my husband there was no way in hell I was leaving him to go to Seattle.  I mean what kind of wife leaves her husband who had just been in the hospital a few hours prior to drive three hours out of town?  This one right here.  He insisted that I go, and since he's a workaholic he was going to be heading back to work anyways so I went.

My trip to Seattle was fun! I was a free woman for 12 hours.  TWELVE HOURS!  I didn't even know what to do with myself!  I was able to pee alone multiple times and the radio station was all mine.  I cranked up the tunes and fought Friday afternoon Tacoma traffic. Holy poop, I don't even know how people can live there and deal with the traffic.  It's insane.

I got to hang out with fellow Pee Book author, Rebecca from the Frugalista Blog.  It was tons of fun to chat with a fellow blogger about bloggy related stuff.

Here we are dressed in black.  
We didn't plan to match.  Or did we? I'll never tell......

I would like to point out that i'm actually wearing a dress.  I'm pretty sure the last time I wore a dress was my wedding day. Unless you count the hospital gowns that I gave birth in. Okay those definitely don't count.

Here I am signing a book.
I look so serious. I don't mess around when i'm trying to spell and write at the same time. 

I made it back to Portland around midnight.  The kids were in bed and I was attacked by my husband shortly after I walked in the door (damn dress).   I thought that things were getting back to normal but the following morning I was woken up by screams of terror coming from the family room.  I heard something about "Flounder Junior is dead".  Flounder Junior is (was) Bo's fish that she won at her school carnival back in May.

You may have seen his mug on my Facebook page. 
Upon arriving at the crime scene, I saw Flounder Junior lying lifeless on the hard wood floor, along with a toddler standing suspiciously close to his bowl.  We still don't know if he plunged to his death, or if Peanut had something to do with it, but he was our only witness and he wasn't saying much.

Poor Bo's was super upset as this was our first family pet and his death was pretty traumatic for all of us.  When she realized that dead fish typically get flushed down the toilet, she became absolutely hysterical, so we decided to have a funeral for Flounder instead.

Yes, while you were probably out doing normal Saturday night stuff like strolling the aisles of Target or going out to dinner or a movie, we had a funeral....for a fish.

Flounder's casket

Saying our goodbyes to Flounder Junior 

The griever and the potentially guilty party

By the time Sunday rolled around I figured things had to calm down.  They just had too.  But it ended up being 97 degrees on Sunday.  We don't have air conditioning since it rarely ever gets that hot in Portland.  I made the mistake of trying to cook dinner on the stove (chili of all things because nothing goes better with 97 degree heat than a steaming bowl of hot ass chili, right?) and I cooked corn bread in the oven at nearly 400 degrees because i'm smart.

I was so hot that I was literally dripping sweat.  I started chopping onions and slipped and almost took off part of my thumb.  Blood was squirting out all over the counter as i'm screaming for help.  I could've just ordered a pizza, but that would've been way too easy. Nope, rather we had steaming hot chili with bloody onions (literally).

Today is my 35th birthday and it's Monday.  Yay.  Nothing says "Happy Birthday you old bitch" like a Monday morning.  I don't think I slept more than an hour last night.   This morning I was woken up by my five year old son turning on the stand up fan full blast about two inches from my face.  I mean who really needs a nose and eyelashes, right?  My kids want me to take them to OMSI and buy them stuff today cause apparently once you have kids your birthday is supposed to be a special day for them.  How silly of me.  So, as soon as I post this i'm off to the kitchen to cook blueberry muffins.  Hopefully i'll actually get to eat one before they are gone.  Then i'm spending the rest of the day curled up in the freezer.  It's supposed to be another scorcher.  Or maybe it's just the hot flashes kicking in.










Friday, June 21, 2013

Buh, buh, buh, buh

I've been a horrible blogger lately. I know. I had so many grand intentions once summer break started to be this rockstar blogger, but ever since school got out, i've been sitting around kind of like this:
I'm one of those people who prefers to blog when i'm inspired, rather than just post daily ramblings. This is an example of what my blog would look like if I posted when i'm not feeling funny:

I've been watching lots of Netflix and eating my fair share of Junior Mints (gotta help keep them in business).  My teens were gone for the last 10 days and arrived home a couple of nights ago. Although I love having my family back together, holy hell, I forgot the pure chaos that is life with five kids.  It's a gosh dang 3 ring circus up in here!  My 8 year old daughter has been crying for her older sister for the last two weeks, "I miss my sister. When is she coming home? I can't handle one more day without her."  This morning she was saying, "I hate my sister. Why did I even miss her?"

My health/medical issues are at a super sucktastic point. I would describe in detail what's going on with me, but you'd need a brown paper bag handy....so you could barf in it.  It's gross.  Like CSI crime scene gross, although i'll admit i've never actually seen CSI.  So perhaps it's more like Breaking Bad bathtub scene gross. Yeah, it's like that.  I feel sorta like a science experiment.  I need the MythBusters team: How much blood can a person lose and still remain upright?

Since the teens are home, i'm back to daily grocery store runs which is tons of fun when you're leaking (I told you i'm gross).  I could've purchased a Corvette with all the money i've spent on tampons and overnight maxi pads.  Anyways, I got home from the grocery store last night and walked into a funhouse of fighting, screaming, and whining.  I told the kids to bring me some Post It's so I could stick one on the fridge with today's date and then when December rolls around and they ask me why Santa Claus didn't come, I would tell them to go look at the Post It.

Soccer camp started this week.  Soccer.  Ugh. I can't escape it. It's been pouring down rain but soccer doesn't get cancelled in the Pacific Northwest because of rain.  All of the other parents stand out in the rain and get drenched while watching their little darlings practice. I sit in the car and say "buh, buh, buh, buh" over and over again.  Soon I will be going to a Portland Timbers match with the hubby. It's all he talks about.  I wish I could be as excited as my hubby, although I do love those stadium nachos. I am very much looking forward to those.  

I bought the boys another Vtech Innotab.  We have an original one but they fight over it all the time, and since i'm still without an iPhone (yes, i've been phoneless for weeks now), they haven't been able to make their weird little videos they like to make with my phone (the original Innotab doesn't have a camera).  This time I bought the Innotab 2S (it has a wifi connection and a video camera).  The boys are obsessed with it.  It was a good purchase, and no I didn't get paid to review the Innotab (although Vtech if you're reading this, I do have a third child that would like one...hint, hint).

So, there you have it. Lots of exciting stuff going on over here.  In a minute i'm going to go eat one of my Slim Fast chocolate bars because everyone knows that diet bars are supposed to be eaten after a heaping bowl of Reese's Puffs cereal, right?  I think so. 

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Music Magpie Review

I'll admit, I had never heard of Music Magpie before I was approached to write a review, but after doing a little searching, I thought it sounded like a really neat service so I agreed to share it with my readers.   Basically if you have any unwanted CD's, DVD's and video games that you want to sell, you can mail them to Music Magpie (for free) and they will send you cash in exchange.  Pretty cool, huh?

I haven't actually used this service myself, but i'm in the process of doing some major decluttering and reorganizing this summer and we have tons and tons (and tons) of CD's and DVD's that we don't use anymore. I honestly can't even remember the last time we watched a DVD in our collection or listened to an actual CD.  Unfortunately they are sitting on shelves collecting dust and taking up space.  Sad, but true.

Pictured below is just one of our many stashes of our old CD's.  
The rest are stuffed into boxes, but we have no place to put them. 
These are shoved into a small corner in the office. The younger boys
mess with them and mix them up. I really need to get them out of here. 
I know you're probably wondering how complicated this process is, but after looking at their website I was pleasantly surprised to see that there are only three short steps.  That's it!

Here is a brief rundown of the process (please refer to Music Magpie for more details and instructions as this is just an overview):

Step one: Simply enter the barcode from the DVD, CD or video game that you want to sell.  You can type in the number or scan it using a webcam.  You must enter a minimum of 10 items.

Step two: Ship your items by packing your items into a box and attaching a free label.  Yes, you read that correctly...there is no cost to ship your items to Music Magpie! You can choose between UPS or United States Postal Service. I wont go into all the details as it's all stated on their website, but the instructions on their website are clearly stated and very easy to follow.  I get confused easily but I was able to follow the directions without any confusion.  There is a limit of 200 items per box.

Step three: Once your items have been received by the Quality Assessment process, you will receive a check.  There are some requirements, such as you must include the original artwork, covers and booklets and the case should be in good working order.

There is also an iPhone and Android app if you prefer to use your phone.

If you want to declutter your home and get some cash for unwanted CD's, DVD's, and video games then you should check out Music Magpie.  Again, I don't have any personal experience with this company, as i've never actually used their services, but I thought it was a neat idea and i'm definitely considering using this company in the future.

*This was a sponsored review, however all opinions and thoughts are my own. 




Friday, June 14, 2013

The Breaking Bad Diet

Summer boredom has already hit and I decided I needed to find a new show to watch on Netflix. As much as I love watching Roseanne, Sex and the City and Weeds re-runs, i've seen each episode probably 900 times and I wanted to try out something new.  I decided on Breaking Bad.  I parked my oversized hiney on the couch, put my fuzzy, pink, princess blanket over my legs and figured i'd be instantly hooked. I had read somewhere online that this show was similar to Weeds. Whoever wrote that was a liar! I'd like to find that person and punch them in the nadsicles.

The first episode was mildly intriguing.  It definitely didn't pull me in right away like Weeds, but it was watchable. That is until I saw the bathtub scene.  Holy sweet mother of Justin Bieber, i'm traumatized!   TRAUMATIZED!  I wish I would've had a warning. I would've switched off Breaking Bad, turned on Roseanne re-runs, curled up under my fuzzy, pink, princess blanket, and eaten Reese's Peanut Butter Cups instead.

I should've known better. I knew that the basis of the show was drugs and not warm, furry kittens. I can't handle blood or gore at all.  I don't watch horror movies or anything about zombies or vampires.  It took me several weeks to feel normal again after watching Robo Cop with the husband.  Don't laugh. Robo Cop is some scary shit! I am now terrified of robotics.  I will never buy a Rumba.  Ever.

Back to Breaking Bad. Shortly after the bathtub scene, which is so disgusting i'm not even going to try to describe it, my husband brought home PIZZA for dinner. I wanted to vomit in my mouth every time I attempted to take a bite. I was literally sick to my stomach.  Perhaps I should watch this particular episode before every meal and I just might lose those unwanted 30 lbs this summer.

I really don't think I can continue watching. I'm sorry Breaking Bad, but i'll be moving on to something that I can watch without peeking through my fingers.  Barbie in A Mermaid Tale is looking pretty good at the moment.


Thursday, June 6, 2013

Planning a funeral for an iPhone

Almost exactly two years ago today Peanut threw my beloved iPhone 4 into the toilet.   We were getting ready to leave and Peanut was pretty little.  I didn't used to let him play with my phone back then because he was too young and I was worried he was going to damage it.  That particular day I was in a huge hurry because we were running late.  I remember setting my iPhone down on a table, but I put it too close to the edge and it fell onto the carpeted floor. It was one of those moments where I saw it fall out of the corner of my eye but I was already on my way into the bathroom to finish getting ready so I said to myself, "It will be okay on the floor for a few minutes."  

I was midway through brushing my teeth (okay, so I was probably plucking a grey hair or popping a zit) when Peanut appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, holding my iPhone.  It was one of those slow motion moments where I see him lift up his arm and my iPhone went airborne.  I remember screaming, "Nooooooooo" but it was too late.  It flew across the bathroom and plopped butt down into the toilet.  I immediately fished it out and made a fatal error of trying to push some buttons.  My phone looked like something from Poltergeist. It started freaking out and the screen went all demonic and ugly and it made kind of a hissing sound as it shut off and wouldn't turn back on.  I wanted to cry, scream, flip out, but ultimately it was my fault for leaving my phone on the ground, in the reach of a then 18 month old.  I mean what can you really do?  Peanut didn't talk, he couldn't express himself or explain why he felt the need to turn my iPhone into an expensive paperweight.  The boy still crapped his pants for poop's sake! 

Anyways, after putting my iPhone in a bucket of rice for 8 days and not touching it all, I eagerly took it out of the rice, plugged it in and tried to turn it on.  It laughed at me.  Okay, it didn't but it basically said, "F you" and refused to turn back on.  We tried to take it to Apple.  They said they would replace the phone for $199 but it would be a refurbished phone and I wouldn't be able to keep my old phone or retrieve any of the data on it.  Since I had pics of the kids and a bunch of other stuff I couldn't part with, I left with my broken iPhone in hand and said "No thanks."   We found an independent iPhone repair shop that had great reviews Wired iRepair.  I was so scared to hand my phone off to just anyone but these guys were so friendly and awesome and I knew my baby would be okay. I had already gone a week without a phone, so I wasn't upset when they said i'd have to leave it overnight.  It turns out that even though my phone had only been exposed to water for a few seconds, that was all it took to cause major damage. It needed a new dock port and a battery.  It set us back $150 but I was so thankful to have my own phone back and all of my data was still there.  

I had a blissful year with my repaired iPhone when Mr. Peanut struck again.  This time he threw the phone onto the hardwood floor.  I don't know how the screen didn't shatter into a million pieces, but I picked it up and all seemed fine. That is until someone tried to call me and I realized that my ringer no longer worked.  For the last year i've survived without a ringer.  I miss pretty much every single incoming call, but I actually kind of like it.  It's a perfect excuse when you just want to be left alone. "Sorry, my ringer doesn't work."   I decided it wasn't that urgent and I didn't get the ringer fixed. 

Last night I was checking something on my phone when I was suddenly revisited by Poltergeist again.  The screen turned several shades of scary, and the damn thing kept turning itself off.  I thought maybe the battery was just low so I plugged my phone in.  At first I thought maybe I was just going crazy.  It seemed to be working just fine.  Then Poltergeist.  My phone was haunted.  After turning it back on again, it died again, only this time it wouldn't come back on.  My phone is toast.  The kids are denying any wrong doing, even though they were watching You Tube videos on it earlier.  It didn't appear to have gotten wet again unless the kids dried it off to hide the evidence.  I don't even want to know what's inside of my phone.  Seriously, there is probably smashed banana and dried boogers up in that shiz.  

My husband left for work with my iPhone.  He'll be taking it back to the shop today in hopes that it will be a quick and easy fix.  I'm not holding my breath. Okay, I lied. I'm holding my breath until I look like the damn purple people eater!  I feel like one of my family members is going in for exploratory surgery and i'm pacing the halls and waiting for a diagnosis.   

I have a confession.  I googled, "How to plan a funeral for an iPhone."  Nothing came up except for apps for planning your own funeral.  I'm disappointed.  This would be a valuable service for attached iPhone users. 

As I prepare myself for the possibility that my baby may not make it home alive, i'm already planning her funeral.  There are many questions an iPhone owner has to ask themselves when faced with the impossible. 

Do I donate her parts? 

Do I donate her entire body? 

Would wearing all black to her funeral be an overkill? (of course not)

Do I give her a proper burial in the backyard?

Or do I let her go somewhere where she can really be free?  I could fling her off the edge of a cliff Thelma and Louise style, or from the peak of Mt. Hood. Or maybe I will just stand on a dining room chair and let her drop down to the floor since i'm kinda afraid of heights. 

When will I feel like texting again? 

How long is the appropriate waiting period before filling in the notepad in my new iPhone? 

Headstone or no headstone? Kidding. Sort of. 

Once you come to terms with saying goodbye, a tribute must be in order. 

I have asked my children to find some of her favorite and most watched You Tube videos.  




RIP my love. I hope I did you proud.