Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Halloween or MidSummer's Eve With Hef


While Googling Halloween costumes, this was the only non pornographic one I could find.


Maimy loves Halloween.  So do I.  We relish the scary bits!  Fall is the most beautiful and charming time of year. Plus, what's more fun than not being yourself for a little while?  Superman knows my undying love for this season.  Even though he doesn't genuinely like it himself, he likes us enough to get involved.  This year he procured tickets to a Halloween charity ball.  Maimy doesn't have a problem vamping it up.  I on the other hand, just couldn't.  I had to find away to keep Superman comfortable as thanks for taking Maimy and I.  So we settled on him dressing up in an OLD military uniform and I dressed up as his little lady from the 40's. 

The nuggets loved it.  Daddy looked like he looks nearly everday and they said Mommy was so beautiful.  (This could mean they hadn't noticed in the previous years of our lives together that I am friggin stunning.  I think they realized I usually don't wear that much makeup.  I kind of felt bad for my dowdy self.)

Superman and I knew that in a party town like this we were walking into a wet party.  And even though we had an inkling, I don't think we truly expected to find the lingerie fest that we arrived at.  When did Halloween morph from awesome, gruesome or even cute to a party at the Playboy Mansion?
If you can conjure up a mental image of me in a snow suit like the one from The Christmas Story, you will understand how over dressed I was compared to  nearly every other girl there.  We saw; Little Ho Peep, Poke Me Hontis, angels in their skivvies, lots of devils, a simulated naked man with what appeared to be a potato falling out of the crotch seam of his fake naked body suit (I have to be frank......Maimy found it hilarious.), Jesus with a prostitute, various playboy bunnies/hookers with pimp in tow, and a sailor (sailorette?) that basically only had her midsection (aka boob crease to pelvic bones) covered with her lycra sailor dress..........ah the list goes on.

Maimy convinced Superman and I that since we were the only dry couple there, we should just get on with the fun and act like we were sloshed.  So for the first time in our lives together.............we fast danced!  Yes we did.  Maimy even let the devil whip her with his tail while she shook it like Shakira on the dance floor.
Superman and I had a fantastic time.  We will never forget the woman that danced like a wounded flamingo, or the many crotch shots and leg humps we were so blessed to witness. 

I really do love Halloween.  I really do wish that it wasn't turning into Whoroween.  Seriously, keep in it in the bedroom folks.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Maimy Lacks Compassion


I remember back when I was little.  When I was sick, there was no one I would rather have than my mom.  It could be that I was concentrating more on puking into my hair than I was my mother's attiutde, but I never remember her being gruff.
Maimy lacks compassion and patience when it comes to puke.  I will be sure in the future to make sure the kids know it is Maimy that is screaming,"You are going to throw up whether you want to or not!!  Put your head over the toilet/garbage/bucket/tupperware!!!  DO NOT throw up on my sheets!!".  She isn't very soothing.  If the children happen to remember this in their later years I would hardly want the blame.  I prefer that my voice remain even and sweet, possibly tinged with the sounds of warm honey. 
The nuggets have a deep and dark fear of allowing themselves to puke.  Each one will scream out like they have been stung by an army of wasps, chanting, "I don't wanna throw up! I don't wanna throw up!".  Ah, nonetheless, child, your body doesn't care what your mind thinks. You will puke.  In recent puking activity we have had Piglet puke on the new carpet.  Actually putting your head over a receptacle shows acceptance in their minds.  Farm Boy woke with a shriek and tried to pull his head away as I had him lose it into a diaper pail.  His disdain for vomit caused him to pull away and string the said emmission onto his pj's and sheets.  Paws, for a wee one, had enough strength to pull from Maimy's fierce grip, turn his head away from the garbage and reach for Mama.  Paws, Maimy and I (and our bed!!!) were showered with popcorn and curdled chocolate milk.  Maimy said some choice words and left Superman and I to bathe and cuddle the pale, whimpering lump of baby. 
Maimy didn't show up again for quite sometime..........that is until I found the bedding in the dryer, tangled in a damp reeking knot 5 days later.  Maimy was back and at her best.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Maimy



I am closing my personal blog to only those invited.  This blog will remain open and consist of my ramblings about Maimy.........my evil BFF and our mortal struggle to someday part ways.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

My BFF (Meet Maimy)


My BFF (best friend forever) is a bad influence. I hate everything she stands for...........but I can't seem to break ties. We've been together our whole lives and I don't know what I would do without her. Every single thing I do wrong is 100% her fault.


From my first moment of consciousness I can't shake her. She doesn't want us to get up, especially if it is because Paws wants a cup of milk. Uugh, that girl sets me on edge. Of course I have to do all of the work and drag both of us out from under the down comforter and stumble down to the basement to wake up the big guys. 'She' thinks we should just holler from upstairs, but it hasn't ever worked.

I am dedicated to making lunches at least three days a week. School lunch is an atrocious amount of money for an eeeh meal. BFF hates making lunches in the morning. I tried to tell her that it would be easier to start it the night before, but she REALLY likes to put things off.

By the time getting in the sport van to hit the road rolls around..........she actually wants me to leave the babies at home because she doesn't want to strap them in car seats. I can't believe her. BFF is one freaking lazy chick.

I am semi committed to working out a few times a week. I can't take looking like I put on 20 pounds. I will never actually know that for a fact because I don't let BFF weigh herself. That is forbotten at our house. It's about the only rule I can hold her to. She and I strap on our brand new, heavy duty sports bra and hit Tae Bo. BFF HATES Tae Bo and it's all she talks about the WHOLE work out. There have been a few times that she actually talked me out of going. We went back home and cuddled with the baby in bed. I had to enroll her in Tae Bo because the only way she will workout is to have someone yelling at her.

BFF really lacks energy and drive. When we are home during the day with the kids she doesn't want to help put the laundry away, unload the dishwasher........even though Max is willing to help, go to the store (she truly despises putting away the groceries), or mop the floor (she can't get past the fact that she has to sweep first and move all of the chairs........plus I like to hand mop and dry and she says it hurts her knees). Really, can you even stand her? BFF doesn't even like to shower. It's like pulling teeth. Come on........showering is necessary to even feel human. But she says she hates having to get out and put on lotion, six kinds of hair product, makeup and then style her hair. I secretly think she doesn't even like to raise her arms above her head, but I can't get her to admit it.

Eventually it's lunch time. BFF waits all morning for lunch. I try to make her wait until at least 11 am, but there have been a few times that she convinced me that 10:30 was just as good. Even though she is dying to eat, she doesn't really want to fix anything. She would eat Chinese food everyday if I let her. On one hand I can't blame her. I am about 95% sure that the rice noodles she loves are spiked with meth. I don't think an addiction level as high as BFF has could occur from mere food. I have her held off to only eating out once a week. She is still wringing my pockets dry.

BFF could spend the whole day with a book. No matter what pressing matter is at hand she carries one everywhere. Her book fettish is only rivaled by..... nothing, not even the rice noodles. In fact, the more she has to do, the harder it is to get the book out of her hands. The only things I can't get her to read...............are the things she is supposed to read.

I realized that if I were going to feed the kids a) before 8:00 pm b) something besides a pb&j or c) not cold cereal........that I was going to have to plan. BFF is the LEAST organized girl I have ever met. She doesn't want to plan ahead. It makes her out of breath. She actually told me once that she doesn't want to do anything that causes her to sweat, increase her heartbeat beyond resting heart rate, and that makes her uncomfortable physically or emotionally. I have goaded her into crock potting here and there, once with the promise of using a whole stick of butter because she loves butter.

When it's time to start getting ready for bed, BFF really puts up a fuss. The kids need to be showered and she hates it. First she doesn't like their whining. She has an amazingly low tolerance for noise. Superman once gave her a box of earplugs for Christmas. She also doesn't like water on the floor of the bathroom. I tried to tell her it makes it easier to mop when the puddles are that big, but once she has bed in her sights...........she's like a cattle stampede....unstoppable. If the kids make noise, take too long, laugh, run through the house naked, leave towels on the floor, spank each others wet bottoms, spill Victoria's Secret lotion on the carpet, or leave their dirty clothes in the bathroom, she thinks it's okay to tell them to go to bed without a bedtime story. I keep telling her that is a bad punishment.......even the 'experts' say never to take reading time away........but she's a tough cookie to convince.

Paws likes to push my shirt up and lay on my stomach when he's tired. BFF actually will go along with this one because she can do it in a prone position. But once you get her laid out like that, you can't get her back up. If only I could convince Superman to cuddle with Paws sometimes....... She claims she tired, but if the day went the way she likes, I can't figure out what from. I'll tell you who is tired..........ME.

BFF is exhausting. I get so sick of battling her at every turn. Everything is out of her comfort zone. She reminds me of a trickle of water...........just dripping and running around the resistance. I question all of the time what happened to the BFF of everyone else that I know. They seem to have ditched the little hussies..........or maybe they never got that attached. BFF has a demon like personality. I wonder if exorcism could part us?

My New Motto



I do love a clean house......really I do. I just can't seem to get from cluttered to clean. I start off in one area and bounce around distractedly from one room to another. I have ADD in the cleaning area of my brain. I'm pretty sure if I were to have a CT scan it would show a pile of books, papers, laundry baskets and a wee farm full of cows, just like it had been copy and pasted right on to the cleaning part of my brain (that is in the hypothalmus or is it hypocampus?).


I sometimes wonder if I could get a diagnosis and medical coverage. Maybe my health insurance would pay for a maid. I wonder where that would fall in the DSM IV?

Until then.........I say, "A clean house is the sign of a wasted life.".

My Ticket To Hell



Superman just saw Lance Armstrong on TV and said.........(paraphrase) 'I could ride a bike all day up hill and love every minute, even the agonizing ones.'

I said....."When the last punch on my ticket to Hell is finally punched I am pretty sure there will be a stationary bike waiting for me.........set on up hill."

How can two people see heaven and hell so differently? I guess it makes sense.....he will be in heaven and I will be in hell and we will be in the same place.

Facebook is Satan's Handtool


I'll outright admit that I am a Facebook addict. I'm not proud.....just like I probably wouldn't be proud to admit I was a meth addict. Nevertheless, the truth. FB has it's good points. It's easy to get updates on your pals........and you don't have to do it by phone (another gimmick used by the horned one to aggravate my life.) Keep up with the chicks from out of the area. Honestly.....a great spy tool. Look up those people you just want to see what's up, but you don't want to SEE.


The downside is that FB smacks of high school, better known as the worst time of ones life, whether you want to admit it or not. You probably weren't at your best in high school. If you think that you were.......I'm really sorry for the life you have lead since then. FB kills off all of the flowers of high school such as math, biology, and English and leaves the weeds; drill team, pep rallies, the hallways, the bathrooms, cone ball, classes taught by coaches, pot between class. You know what I mean.

As with any addiction, copping to the problem is the first step. But until I am only getting out of bed to check FB or cruising the streets with my air card looking for an unprotected connection....I'm still using. Pathetic. Maybe when my teeth start to fall out I'll learn my lesson.