Category Archives: total chaos

More Shit My Family Says

Hi there.

As you can see, I survived the Holiday Season, fraught with human interaction though it was. It has taken me this long to reach some semblance of recovery…you know, back to my normal state of pajamas and pony tails and questionable hygiene.

I’m just going to dip my toes into the blog in this first post, and maybe next time I will plug my nose and jump all the way in.

Here are some of the Most Ridiculous Things my family has said to me during my break.

 

From my 6-year-old.

From my 6-year-old.

 

Thing 1: I slept for like 13 hours!

Me: I know. I thought about waking you guys up, but I knew you’d want me to feed you.

Thing 1: Wow…the maternal instinct is so strong…I can’t even.

 

Husband: *speaks only in puns for a damned hour*

Me: Your puns are not making me happy.

 

Thing 3: Boogycalla.

Me:

Thing 3: A long time ago, ancient people used that word for ‘hello.’

 

Me: I hate everything that’s on my desk.

Husband: You also hate everything that’s not on your desk.

Me: Excellent point.

 

Thing 1: So…food?

Me: It’s one o’clock. I’ll make dinner at dinnertime.

Thing 1:

Me: I can’t feed you twice a day! WHAT DO YOU THINK I AM?

Thing 1:

Me: Anyway, dinner is the most important meal of the day.

Thing 1: We’ve been talking for like 10 minutes and you’ve lied to me three times.

 

*You may have noticed a theme here regarding my children and their near-constant demands for nourishment. I don’t know if all kids are like this, but mine like to eat at least 12 times a day. I personally don’t care how much they eat, it’s how much they expect me to cook that appalls me.

I would like to point out that these kids are 16, 12, and 6.

1.5 of them are fully capable of cooking for themselves without supervision.

**Thing 2 is missing from this post because all he says anymore sounds to me like, “Football, football, yardline, pass, interception, football, that guy, football, some guy, Madden, football, football, football.” It is barely English.


We are in a state of emergency

Operation Thanksgiving was a success, thanks to my mother and my mother-in-law (the cooks), two bottles of champagne, and many pies.

There were so many pies that my subconscious has woken me up every night at midnight to eat a slice two slices. I consider this taking one for the team. The pie team. Of which I am the leader.

Now with Thanksgiving barely over, the time for Holiday Shenanigans has commenced.

I have to LEAVE MY HOUSE every day for the next four days.

Let that sink in.

Although I do want to see my daughter sing today and I wouldn’t miss Thing 1 in the play and I’m sure the band program of Thing 2’s will be phenominal…I would much rather watch these things from my couch. And let’s not even speak of the parade.

Can you even imagine the amount of bathing and getting dressed this is going to entail? More than I’ve done in the last week, I can tell you that.

Then you throw in that it is cold and rainy outside and when it is cold I don’t like to get out of my bed. I may be part bear.

bear

And I have to wonder how I will make an ass of myself at these various functions. SO many opportunities to be weird and awkward!

Being an introvert with anxiety almost guarantees that I will say or do something idiotic…in public…with no place to hide.

I’ve narrowed it down to two possibilities. The first and best-case scenario is that I won’t speak at all and will avoid eye contact with anyone I didn’t give birth to. If cornered, I will answer questions only with “yes” or “no” and will fidget and bolt at the first opportunity.

The second and least desirable and therefore most likely is that I will start nervous talking. This is the one I’d really like to avoid because once I start nervous talking, I can’t be stopped and my subject matter leaves much to be desired. For instance, I need to not talk about the zombie apocalypse and the fact that once the meds run out I will be a dead weight but I still don’t want to be eaten so I’ve been practicing with a sling shot, the only weapon I will be allowed. When people say, “How have you been?” I’m pretty sure that is not the answer they are expecting.

I also shouldn’t talk about my pets bowel habits (though they are very interesting) or say, “You are making me anxious.” and then walk away.

Basically, the next four days are a damned social minefield and I’m not fully equipped to navigate it. Or even partially equipped. I have no equipment.

Are you already sick of holiday engagements or is it just me? Is crawling under a chair a viable option in an auditorium?


School Fundraisers Suck

delightful

The beginning of the school year was filled with sales. Girl Scout sales, PTA sales, band sales; everybody was selling something and basically driving me crazy.

So. Fast forward to last week when I started getting these notes home saying that the cookie dough order would be in on Thursday and HAD to be picked up on THURSDAY between the hours of 3:30 and 6:30.

I threw every one of them away. We, I was sure, had sold no cookie dough. These increasingly threatening letters were not meant for me, and I trashed EVERY ONE OF THEM.

Fast forward again to Thursday night. Imagine my surprise when the school calls me at 6 pm to ask if I am going to pick up my cookie dough order. Or rather, to TELL me to get my ass down there and pick it up. I tried telling them that we didn’t sell cookie dough. They replied with yes, you did, you sold it to yourself and so-and-so and so-and-so. I couldn’t argue with that kind of logic.

I sent my husband to pick up the “cookie dough” explaining to him that they were calling it the wrong thing. WE had never sold cookie dough, so this must be that other stuff we sold and they were IDIOTS and were calling it cookie dough which is why I THREW AWAY ALL THE LETTERS.

So he brings home this giant box of stuff we allegedly sold and I ignore it. Because I was sure it was full of nuts and magazines and whatever else we had sold but CERTAINLY NOT COOKIE DOUGH.

This morning the box is still sitting in my chair so out of curiosity I opened it.

Guess what was in it. Guess.

FUCKING COOKIE DOUGH. We DID sell cookie dough. I even BOUGHT cookie dough. Then I argued with the school about it and left it sitting out overnight in my warm house instead of the fridge because I was SO CERTAIN that we didn’t sell cookie dough.

I have obviously lost my mind. I blame the school and their “cookie dough.”


Search Term Tuesday

I know, I know, it’s actually Tuesday and that makes me feel like I’ve let you guys down. But I’m really sick — I think I have bronchitis and pneumonia and maybe strep throat and a sinus infection.

Just kidding. I’m pretty sure it’s just a cold. But it’s a fucker of a cold and I’m not dealing with it well. By that I mean I’m in my blue onesie crying into my coffee and coughing like crazy.

So anyway, Michelle reminded me of Search Term Tuesday so I had to check my search terms and HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS ARE FUCKED UP.

There were SIX searches related to engaging in intercourse with different animals. Yes, I cleaned that up for you guys because they were totally gross. I am obviously never going to live down that ONE story about the Dobermans.

There were way too many searches related to porn. I’m only going to list my favorites because most of them were incredibly disturbing and I don’t even know that I’ve ever TALKED about porn on here. Have I?

1. Daryl Dixon porn. Well. I can’t really blame you for that one. We all know how I feel about Daryl. But I WOULD NEVER SEARCH FOR DARYL DIXON PORN BECAUSE I HAVE MORE RESPECT FOR HIM THAN THAT, YOU PERVERTS!

2. Eating poop and drinking pie sex stories. That’s just really, really wrong. Poo and pie do not go together. AND WHY AM I GETTING ALL THESE MESSED UP SEX SEARCHES?

3. Many variations of “Husbands fucking maid” or HOW husbands do maids” or “maid gets pregnant from husband.” I just don’t get it. I mention a maid ONE TIME and NOT IN A SEXUAL WAY and this is what happens.

4. The other ones are too dirty for me to even type and that ought to tell you something because I’ll talk about almost anything. A lot of them had to do with chewing. Okay, that’s all I’m saying. But don’t chew glass OR BODY PARTS. Jesus. I can’t believe I have to tell you people these things.

disturbing meme

Six people searched for Halloween Is Stupid which makes me happy because that’s something I actually wrote. Two people searched for hooker stories.

This one is my favorite I think: You are not easy to love.

Followed closely by: Only have allergies in my grandma’s house. Obviously you are allergic to your grandma.

That’s gonna have to be it for today because I need to go blow my nose and curl up somewhere warm. Now I’ll probably have gross search terms about boogers.

 


Aging Ungracefully

I went to the doctor this morning and she wants to give me some injections in my neck. There was a question of whether or not I wanted to be sedated. Silly question. I ALWAYS WANT TO BE SEDATED. In any given situation, I can pretty much guarantee you that I would rather be sedated. I have two teenagers. I’d like to be sedated for the next 6 to 13 years.

My neck has been giving me problems for years but now that I’m getting older it is getting worse. I know that it’s getting worse because I can feel it and I know that I’m getting older because my kids NEVER STOP MENTIONING IT.

My birthday is this month. Most days I feel about 80, 85, but I’m actually only going to be 35.

Only.

My family and I saw an old friend of mine the other day and Thing 2 couldn’t wait to say, “I can’t believe you guys went to school with her! She looks so much younger than you!”

No, I didn’t smack him but I thought about it.

Then today we ran into another old friend and here he goes again. This time he says, “How come everyone you went to school with looks younger or older than you?” Um, because they have to be one of the two? Knowing I wasn’t going to like the answer, I asked the question anyway.

Then this happened.

This was a full cup of chocolate milk.

This was a full cup of chocolate milk.

How I managed to do that, I will probably never know, but I do know that 20 ounces of chocolate milk can cover a lot of territory in a car and it’s very, very sticky.

Since my birthday is coming up, my husband has been giving me little gifts all month long. (I KNOW, RIGHT?) This was his latest and I absolutely love it for so many reasons. It is warm and cozy. It has pockets. It has a hood. And it embarrasses the crap out of my kids who deserve it because they keep calling me old.

onesie

Is there a better gift in this world than a bright blue adult onesie WITH POCKETS? No. No, there is not.