Our first Challenge is to help Pam name her team. I was in strong support of “we are crazy”and“[maniacal laughter] sixty k? your insane” but Pam and her team didn’t appreciate them.
And now, A few words from our sponsor LOL
I am doing a crazy “death walk” (as bluepainted described it)….a long, tiring 60 km walk in Calgary, AB to raise money to end breast cancer. Here is my personal page.
If you have know any woman who has suffered from breast cancer or you are a survivor yourself, visit my website and make a small donation…..every dollar counts and it’s going to a great cause…to save our boobies!
send it to your girlfriends, your mom, your sister or your aunt…..spread the message about this deadly killer and let’s find a cure not a band aid.
Pam - the sister-in-law
I would like to go on record as an idiot. My post today was to be in support of My Sis in laws 60k walk to raise $ for cancer. I deleted the email with the particulars she sent me. ‘Cus I suck. There was going to be a “name this team” poll and everything. Pam. If you are reading this SEND ME THE INFO ASAP and I will replace this with the post.
In the mean time. I had also planned on linkin’ you all to Holy Mama for her Club Seventeen. Where we learn its OK to touch ourselves. That’s right. On the seventeenth of every month we feel up our boobies in the name of science.
for the life of me, I cannot figure this out. And if you laugh I will hunt you down, lock you in a room, and let my seven year old sing to you for hours and hours and hours.
I swear I will.
Starting January 11th, and ending March 11th, is that two months or three months?
See, I keep thinking January, February, March = three months. But then I think wait… January 11th till February 11th is one month, February 11th till March 11th is two months.
So which is it? Two or Three.
**** I have been very grouchy today.
(ask anyone)
****
Because all I want to do I sit in a steaming bath and read my new book from Shelli, Five Minutes’ Peace, I am going to give you a few Boy-isms to help pass the time. Originally, when I set up the notepad file to record the boy-isms, I was going to fill it with a weeks worth of funny shit.
But the bath is calling me! (come,… sink into my warmth, Let me get you all hot and wet. Oh yes, play in the bubbles. Splash it! Yessss! Just.Like.That! Ohhh, slippery isn’t it? Now, take that cloth and scruuuub!….)
It’s really hard to say no to an offer like that!
So deal with it!
****
Boy-Isms:
Put one hand on your tummy and one on your back. Then bend down. And if they throw food at us or rocks, that means they don’t like us, but they will throw flowers ‘cus they are our parents and have to like it - Rainbow man to Blue Boy, while practicing for their “play”
You need a learn this little dance. First you spin on your bum and then go on to your knees and then quickly go on the floor and go like this (waves feet in air) and then really fast, you go like this (spins in a circle on his tummy, feet still in the air) - Rainbow Man teaching Blue Boy how to dance for their show
Blue Boy : You been kissin’ daddy too much! me: why? Blue Boy: ‘Cus your lips is bleedin’ (my lips are just dry lol)
One last thing. If you want to know why watching paint dry is a fun and exciting experience, click here and Blue Boy will be happy to explain it!
My children are picky eaters. No, strike that, My two oldest boys are picky eaters.
Stuperman will eat anything. For example. Paint. Two days ago. Still having blue poop. It’s actually a really nice shade.
How do other people deal with vegetable** hate?
Vegetables are nice. They sit patiently in the refrigerator and serenely let you carry them to a chopping block where they give their wee lives happily, just to make you healthy.
What’s not to love about sacrifices like that? (And yes, should you sacrifice your self on a blue and red alter for me, I will immortalize you in my side bar. Right under “DumbAss”)
If a vegetable is cooked, they hate it. They loathe it. They are sure steamed carrots are just a diabolical plan to overtake their minds and turn them into zombies. Or Amy. Don’t ask me to explain that last one. It has something to do with Sonic.
In their esteemed opinions, cooked peas are only good for flicking at your brother. Or shoving up a nostril. However, come summer, they clear my garden of even the smallest pea pod. They even eat the shells.
Even french fries. Some fucktard* once told them while in the midst of a very trying episode of Eat your potatoes or so help me God, child, you will not turn five! that french fries are potatoes and you like those, so eat up or else.
Now neither of them like french fries. Yay.
While I am not some sort of kamikaze vegetable Nazi; I don’t really care if they are cooked or raw, so long as they are eaten. It’s just that… every so often I would just like to see some potatoes or corn go into them. Once a year even. Once decade?
How do I convince the Boys to love veggies?
Is there a vegetable version of love potion number nine?
Would it be OK to show them this?
* Me
**Also. I spelt vegetable wrong every single time I tried. Thank you spell check ;o)
Remember the good old days, like last week, when it was only minus two? Well Mother Nature can suck my dick.
Whats that? Long range forecast? Lets see…. Oh look. I found a quote from Mother Nature herself.
It says “Wasn’t that fun? After six months and 12 days, I let you see the sun. Didn’t it feel lovely caressing your skin? Didn’t it make you yearn for the beach? Popsicle stained kids? Suntanning? It was amazing wasn’t it? Now fuck off, I’m busy! Enjoy winter Bitches!!”
I think it is time to point out a few of my flaws. Shall we start with how I am accident prone?
We should?
I’m SO glad you agree!
Lets start with one of my earliest memories of pain. I was quite young. Eight? Ten? Younger? Either way, I had been on some sort of trip, be it school or other, the details are fuzzy, and you will soon learn why!
I had bought a small, green, glow in the dark dinosaur for my brother while I was out. I forgot about it until late in the evening and when I remembered I ran down stairs to get it for him. Unfortunately I tripped on a hanger, and fell ass over teakettle down the stairs. To the cement floor. Hitting my head on the telepost at the bottom.
I got hurted bad. I have pictures of my face somewhere…
I have compiled a list covering the last year (from last April) I am leaving lots of things out.
I once shot a staple, with an air powered thingy, straight through the middle of the bone in my middle finger. I am no longer allowed to play with power tools.
I have cut myself on :
Cooked spaghetti,
Raw chicken. (Boneless), a raw pork chop (yesterday)
Styrofoam.
Each of the children,
Pencils, pens, paper,
Forks, spoons, cups,(glass and plastic, unbroken)
Plastic milk jugs,
Shoes,
The car,
Snow, sand,
Monkey bars, three different slides
Taps, sprinklers,
Grass,
Plug ins.
An oatmeal cookie(today),
Bar soap, shampoo bottle
A gnome,
Two different coffee pots,
Toothpicks. (and not with the pointy end either)
My swifter,
A towel, (dry)
The sewing machine, (but not the needle.)
Tinfoil and saran wrap.
Wrapping paper and the Christmas tree,
A lighter,
The bathroom scale,
The mattress on my bed and Blue boy’s bed
Fake plant leaves,
Window blinds.
I could go on and on and on, basically, our rule of thumb is, if it is not sharp I will cut myself. (One of the rules that defines an injury as a cut, is there must be blood showing to count as a cut.) I am a pro at cleaning shattered glass without incident and I play with knives and other sharp things all the time and never get cut. However, give me a cotton ball and I’ll be bleeding withing minutes.
I suck. I really do. What is the weirdest thing you have cut yourself on?
Sigh.
***********
Going completely off topic, there are a few things I want to say…(type?)
I loaded twenty photos to the photo blog. The Boys on Rats and Rats on Cats photos are up, as well as a bunch of very lazy kitteh photos.
Sheila asked how my exercising for comments is going, and It is going quite well. I think I have lost nine or ten lbs, go back to the comments from last post and do the math ‘cus I am too lazy to do it myself. We bought a new version of DDR and it rocks.
I did this : for someone, but I did not get it done fast enough due to a thread snafu. Since it will be late for her birthday, I will show her it now. The post office told me it will take 13 days.
Now begone and write for me lots of interesting posts so that I may forget about the laundry and the cheerio sticky floor that needs to be dealt with. I’d rather play online then clean house ANYday!
