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.

All I wanted was a damn cookie!

Last weekend we attended my 8 y/o daughter's Autumn Festival at her elementary school.  We attended this very same festival last year and much to my surprise it wasn't that bad.  The crowds were light, you could just walk right up to the game booths, and they were practically giving away sugar cookies with frosting.  You know the kind. The Lofthouse, melt in your mouth, I know I shouldn't be eating this but I swear it has crack inside of it because I can't put it down, cookie. 

This year with the promise of a sugar cookie, I agreed to go with the hubby and daughter.  I noticed right away that the parking lot was suspiciously full when we arrived.  Not a good sign.  Inside my daughter's tiny school was wall to wall people.  I immediately began to feel claustrophobic and quite honestly a little nauseated.  It was hot, crowded and the people standing in line next to me at the ticket booth weren't wearing any deodorant.  Damn Portland hippies!  I nearly barfed up my turkey burger. 

As I stood in lines that resembled Splash Mountain from Disneyland, I began to regret coming.  But I held out on the promise of a fattening, delicious, and sure to eventually cause type 2 diabetes cookie.   My hubby had to keep reminding me to not make my "poopy face" as he calls it.  Honestly I don't even notice i'm doing it.  What can I say?  I'm a people person. 

My hubby had to hold me back when one rude mom decided her little darling shouldn't have to stand in line at the bowling booth like the rest of us, so she totally line cut.  I'm convinced there's a special place in hell for line cutters.  I got several deep, elbow nudges from the hubby as he gave me the raised eyebrow, "Don't you dare start something" look.   I went to my deep calming place.  I thought about my cookie. 

We made it through the pumpkin painting booth, face painting booth, fishing booth, the reach into the pumpkin and guess which disgusting substance is inside the pumpkin booth, and many, many others.  The only booth we didn't go too was the classroom that had been converted into a makeshift dance club.  I'm a fairly big Michael Jackson fan, but my eyes simply cannot handle a room full of pre-pubescent kids trying to dance to Thriller.  Nope, not even the promise of a cookie could talk me into this one! 

The festival was coming to a close, so we fought our way through the crowds and back into the cafeteria so I could get my precious cookie, when that's when I saw it.   The freaking cookies were GONE! NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! I almost collapsed right there on the ground and cried.  You don't lure a chubby mom with a sweet tooth to a school event with the promise of a cookie, when you don't plan on delivering!  I gave my hubby the silent treatment all the way out to the car.  Was it his fault?  Nope.  Was I acting extremely unfair and immature?  Yep.  Next year I have a plan.  I will park my fat butt in front of the cookie booth and he can go fight the crowds with our daughter. 

A Halloween my teen will never forget

My 13 y/o daughter is a bit of a challenge.  She's feisty, headstrong, stubborn, thinks she knows everything.  She's never wrong.  Ever. You know the typical teenage stuff.   

She's been pestering us for about a week to let her wear her Halloween costume to school today.  I didn't think it was a good idea.  For one that stinking costume cost a lot of money and I was worried it was going to get ruined.  Second, I kept questioning her why she even wanted to wear a costume to school (she's in the 8th grade).  She insisted that everyone was going to wear a costume and she would just curl up and die if we didn't let her wear it (did I mention she's dramatic too?)   My hubby told her she could wear her Dorothy costume, provided she wore some pants under the dress because the skirt is a bit short for our liking and there was no way we were going to let her wear a short skirt with bare legs to school. 

This morning she got up super early and probably spent about two hours in the bathroom getting ready.  Funny how she's always too tired to unload the dishwasher, but she can get up at 5 am if that means getting dolled up for an event. 

At my daughter's school they don't let the kids into the building until a certain time so the entire student body stands out front of the school's front doors.  I don't blame the school officials.  I'm not particularly fond of teenagers either.  This buys the staff a few precious minutes to slam some coffee and tell themselves they love their job and today is not the day to jump off the roof (okay that's what i'd be doing if I taught middle school).  

As i'm parked next to the curb watching the students walk across the street towards the school, I noticed something funny.  No one was wearing a costume.  I repeat, NO ONE was wearing a costume!  I could tell my daughter was getting a little anxious as she peered out the window and watched with horror as each car unloaded a group of kids dressed in jeans and hoodies.   As she nervously stepped out of the van, dressed head to toe in a gingham Dorothy dress, leggings, high heeled ruby slippers (with glitter), and her hair in braids (complete with a big blue bow), she asked, "Mom, do I look crazy because none of the other kids are wearing costumes?"  My response to my difficult daughter that gives me handfuls of grey hair and acid reflux?  "No, not at all." 

I drove away with butterflies in my stomach as I suddenly pictured myself in that movie worthy scenario.   Let's just say that today i'm thankful that i'm 34 and not 13.  And i'm fairly certain that this will be a Halloween that she will never, ever, forget.