The Mini Van Soap Box

My daughter's school has been great about this Swine Flu thing. They've been sending reports home almost every day with the precautions that they've taken and/or will take. They've sent home sheets on what to look for, what to do and who to call.

If I wasn't happy with her school before, I am now.

One of the biggest things they've done is institute some new hand washing rules, and have had some good discussions with the kids on the why's and when's of hand washing.

And I mean 'you shall wash your hands or big meanies will come and take all your barbies and play-doh and throw them in the trash' kind of talks.

It seems to be working.

My daughter is BESIDE HERSELF that I don't have laminated signs in every bathroom in my house with proper hand washing techniques. Throw yourself on the ground tantrum kind of upset.

"How will I know to wash my hands if there IS NOT A SIGN!?!?!?"

Five days ago it was 45 degrees.

Today it's 93.

Apparently my air conditioning is a bit....pissed.

As I type this my husband is downstairs with a hair dryer trying to thaw out the system, and my daughter and I are laying on my bed with all the windows open, every fan on, and bitching.

We've both taken cool showers and put on very light pj's. The only thing that's making our evening better is that the Blue's Clue's video is on.

Can you hear my joy?

As promised, the conclusion to what happens when you blame the Easter Bunny for being a bad mom.

So, I managed to get out of the whole Easter thing scott free. We didn't paint eggs or hide them, or spend hours finding them. I wasn't left with 20 neon pink and yellow eggs to make 4 pounds of egg salad with. Little tin foil wrappers haven't been left all over my house for the last week. But truthfully, I felt pretty guilty. I would have enjoyed taking pictures of her finding the eggs - and having a stash of Easter chocolate in the house benefits me as well.

So, Sunday night after the whole debacle was over the phone rang. My folks had called to give me a general hard time for being a jack ass and to let me know how truly horrible it is to blame the Easter Bunny for my mistakes - when a thought came to him.

"I know how you can make it up to her!" he said
"I don't need to make it up to her...She's over it."
"No, no...I know how you can make it up to her. I'm sure you've scarred her....for life. And since it's Easter...We think you should get her a Bunny. A lop ear rabbit...I know a guy who breeds them!"

I made very clear to him that there was no way in bloody hell I was going to buy this kid a bunny - because my husband and I have a no pet policy in this house - not to mention I have very severe allergies.

"No, no. Bunnies have a totally different dander than cats. You'll be fine."
"Look Mensa Bunny Boy....I don't care if this bunny shoots Pez out his ass. Do. Not. Buy. this kid a bunny"

The conversation went on far longer than it should have - and because clearly I'm easily swayed from an original position - I started having an actual conversation about having a bunny in the house!

I eventually told him I had to hang up on him.

"Why do you have to hang up on me?" he asked
"Because I'm honestly listening to you....So, I have to hang up on you now. Clearly I can't have a thought of my own and you are making my mind up for me. So, I'm hanging up now. Goodbye"

So I hung up. And then did the SECOND worst thing I could do.
(the first thing would have been TELLING the child about the bunny)

The second is to do a google image search of Lop Ear Bunny.......





Damn.






Moral of the story. Grandparents suck. Truly. Think what you will about the all the love they have for their grandchildren - but the truth of it is - they just want to stick it to their own kids. It's payback for all the shit we pulled. And I'm quite sure that they are laughing their asses off right now - knowing full well - that sometime soon - my house is going to be filled with rabbit turds.

The rain will not stop. We've been discussing going to Home Depot for lumber because I'm sure two of each animal will be showing up at any time now.... Rain makes me crabby. So, here are some things that have made me not crabby lately.

• We have a horrible drainage problem in our backyard...so my husband spent about six hours on Saturday pulling out old rotting lumber that had been drilled about six feet into the ground by Andre the Giant. I jumped in to help....Which did not work at all. He did not laugh at me at all. Which was nice. So, I spent the six hours making sure our daughter didn't impale herself on six foot long screws. Seriously...what asshole made this patio.

• I'm totally hooked on McDonald's coffee. How cheap can I be? Now that they have that whole McCafe thing going on.....Instead of spending five bucks on a cup of coffee - I can get a large cup of coffee for like a buck and a quarter and don't have to use stupid words when I order. It's just LARGE and COFFEE. I'm nothing if not easy.

• I've created a whole fantasy world in my head where I'm going to make money on Etsy. I realize that I'm like five years behind the ball on this. But if/when I get some stuff up there - I expect all of you to buy my ugly crap. No, I insist you buy my ugly crap. If not, I'll spread vicious rumors about all of you.

• My secret love for Mommy Wants Vodka is out in the open. I actually told her that if I was a lesbian I would ask her to be my girlfriend. That's how lame I am. But so far she hasn't, like, banned me from her website or rejected my emails.

• My husband and I got a "date day" yesterday. We dropped off the kid and got like four hours to ourselves. I imagine when other parents get time off they do adult things. They stimulate their brains with fascinating conversation. They enjoy adult beverages and discuss politics, religion...their hopes and dreams. We spent $40 dollars at the movie theatre. We saw "Monsters vs. Aliens".... a movie we totally could have taken her to see.

• Next to the internet, light beer, and bacon....Hulu has got the be one of the greatest inventions. Ever.

What's making you happy?

I'm quite certain that if the Easter Bunny was real....He would be sitting in his office right now, discussing with his staff how much of a total asshole I am - and how best to take me out.

After church on Sunday, we went to lunch with my folks - hugs and kisses goodbye and then got in the car to drive home. As I pulled out of the parking lot I said to her "So, what do you want to do today sweetie?"

She looked at me like I was a complete idiot...."Um...eggs Mama"

Oh. Shit.

Right. It's Easter. And the Easter Bunny comes on Easter. And hides eggs. And gives baskets full of crap.

So, in a moment of total brilliance, I blamed the LACK of hidden eggs and baskets and goodies ON the Easter Bunny. I'm totally not kidding you. I simply explained that the Easter Bunny probably thought that she was in Texas with me for the funeral and assumed she wouldn't be home for Easter, so skipped our house this year. "But I'll bet you'll get TWO Easter baskets next year!" I said.

And you know what? It worked. Like a charm. She wasn't mad - or even upset at all.

"Really?!?! Two baskets? Cool!"

And that was it. Easiest. Child. Ever. That, or she's brilliant and has learned at an early age how to double her haul.

Is it wrong to blame a childhood idol for my mistakes? Probably. However, the guilt I have over not having this kid in Sunday School - I've never really talked about the Easter Bunny all that much. I want to make sure I have some church stuff in her, before I let Easter become the "chocolate bunny" holiday. Furthermore....I've been a bit flighty this last week. Not to mention, I really think my husband should at least take a little bit of the blame on this one.

All excuses, I'll admit. And I totally draw the line at blaming Santa. That's just cruel. Not to mention, fiscally stupid. There's no WAY I could double up the next year.

P.S. This is just part one of the story. Next week you'll get "Why Grandparents Suck - Blaming the Easter Bunny Part 2" This is what happens when your parents find out you screwed over their grandchild for Easter.

Driving home after buying mayonnaise.

Me: "Hey, this Saturday is our Anniversary isn't it?"
Him: "Oh, yea? Yea - I guess it is."
Me: "How long have we been married?"
Him: "Nine years?"
Me: "Um...no. Dork. Six Years."
Him: "Are you sure?"
Me: "Yes, I'm sure. You take her age, and add two."

5 minutes later

Him: "I don't think that's right"
Me: "Yea, I was just thinking that. But I know nine years isn't right either"
Him: "Cause if you take her age and add two, we've been married for six and a half...and that's a stupid time to celebrate an anniversary"
Me: "Yea. That's like celebrating a month of going out in high school. Who celebrates six and a half years?
Him: "I think its seven years"
Me: "Ok. That sounds good. Let's go with seven"

I am often in awe of the genius of marketing. How someone can package and sell something so effectively, that even though we KNOW we don't need or even want one, we'll buy it anyway, because we honestly think it'll make our lives better.

This has to be the number one motto of the warehouse store. I don't know what it is in your area, but here, it's Costco. And I've yet to meet anyone who can "run in real quick for milk".

Today was that day for us. We haven't been in forever, because quite frankly we can't get back out again with our shirts on. But we needed to stockpile on a few things - and we were heading in that direction anyway.

We actually gave ourselves a pep talk before we left the house. Stay clear of the middle area....that's where they hit you with movies, books and toys. Watch out for the lady on every turn giving away free food. Sharp left at the pastry department. And under no circumstances are we to walk into the electronic section.

But even with the pep talk and the directions - somehow when I come face to face with a 96 pound tub of mayonnaise...I have to have it. I don't need, nor do I WANT that much mayo....but at only $4.97 for 96 pounds it's a steal...and I'll feel as though I'm extremely special for owning this mayonnaise. All my friends will be jealous. They'll come from miles and miles just to see my mayo.


So, instead of just getting diet coke....we had to rearrange the entire garage to make room for our haul.

Wanna come over and see my mayo?

Few years ago when I started this little thing, I gave myself a few rules.

Rule #1. I don't post pictures of my kid. That's not a dig at people that do...It's just I have an extremely over active imagination and I can't control who reads here...and I'm quite certain that there is a crazy stalker out there that is looking for a kid that looks exactly like mine and will be able to tell my exact GPS coordinates from one picture.

Rule #2. I don't talk crap about my family. Well, not like serious crap.

Good rules I think. One gives me piece of mind - and the other keeps my ass out of trouble.

About 16 of us had all flown into San Antonio for my Grandmothers funeral (it was a beautiful service by the way) and we were all sitting around the pool at the hotel, drinking and visiting - and someone (and quite honestly I couldn't even tell you who it was at this point) said something kind of stupid and I said something to the effect of..."Damn it...I always said I wouldn't blog about you people!!!"

Well, my older sister was sitting right next to me.

Apparently, she's the exception to my rule...and pointed it out to me.

So, I've gone back and read a bit over the last year or so.

And she's right. I do talk about her a lot.

I'm SURE it's because she's tougher skinned than all of the rest.

And NOT because she just does weirder stuff than all the rest.

As a side note, my mother explained to me this weekend that I was, in fact, allowed to talk about serious crap on here. As long as it was NICE crap about her, and BAD crap about me.

I don't think I'll be asking them to guest post at any time in the future....You are sure to get stories of the SWAT team knocking on the door....or the time I accidentally took all the water out of the pool.

the very loud pop yesterday coming from the general D.C. Metro area yesterday...

Don't concern yourself.

It was just my brain. Exploding all over the pharmacy counter.

You see, as ya'll already know, my doctors have me medicated on this and that for these migraines. And I'm blessed in at least the fact that my insurance, while although won't pay but $10 dollars towards a dental cleaning, will pay for a good portion of my medications.

So, you can imagine my surprise when trying to pick up my monthly prescription....Only about 12 hours before I need to get on a plane to travel back home to San Antonio to meet family for my Grandmothers funeral...that should the pharmacist tell me that I owe him $400.

Pop.

I would love to tell you that I kept my cool under pressure...that I calmly and rationally explained to the newbie that this simply was not the case, and if he could please go back and recheck the files.

But instead I cried like 4 year old little girl that was denied ice cream at her own birthday party.

Turns out that my insurance WILL cover my migraine medication....It was simply a case of THIS pharmacist trying to give me medications that BELONGED TO SOMEONE ELSE.