I’m pressed for time folks. The phone company is here to punish me fix some problems and they are cutting my phone line. No internet all day! So… I’m having a giveaway to celebrate over 1500 followers and to hopefully appease my loneliness while I’m gone. Like my facebook page and my post about the t-shirt giveaway for a chance to win. Love you all and I will miss you so much! *wipes tear*
1500 followers? Giveaway time!
How Low Can You Go (Before Your Husband Hires a Maid)
Pretty fucking low, it seems.
Before I had my third child I was somewhat anal took housecleaning very seriously. After Thing 3 was born and I went back to working fulltime, I realized that either I was going to have to lower my standards or I was going to go insane.
But I’m an overachiever, so I did both.
Somewhere along the line, I signed up for emails from The Organised Housewife. Originally, I suppose I wanted to get these daily reminders to help me stay on top of shit. Now I use them to make me laugh. Like, ha-ha, motherfucker, no.
Everyday I get an email from them and they seem insanely helpful, if I cared anymore. But I am so far past caring that sometimes when I read an email that says, “pick one cabinet and organize it” I just want to go and throw all the things all around until there isn’t even a cabinet.
Yes. I believe I did mention that I’m also on the crazy train.
I’ve always been a list maker. When my husband worked fulltime and I stayed at home with the kids, I would make lists so that he could see what all I’d accomplished that day and he would know that even though I was still in the same 3 day old pajamas he left me in, I HAD BEEN DOING STUFF. Important stuff, like sanitizing the microwave. I’m not even totally sure where my microwave is located at this moment. My how things have changed.
Anyway, I still make lists, but instead of long lists of things I want to accomplish in a day, I make lists of things I’ve already done. Here are some sample lists from my ever-present notebook:
1. Get out of bed.
2. Write.
3. Eat.
4. Feed cats.
5. Read internet.
6. Maybe do some laundry. Just wash.
7. Maybe dry the laundry you might’ve washed.
8. Throw clean laundry in a pile.
Notice the list doesn’t say “feed children.” Because even I remember that without writing it down. Because they constantly ask for food. All day, every day.
Here’s one titled “Things I am Currently Not Fucking Up”
1. Taking me time.
2. Writing.
3. Kids.
4. Marriage.
another list, titled “Things I am Currently Fucking Up”
1. Everything else.
I’ve been doing really good at writing things on my list that are easy, so I can look at my list at the end of the day and know that I’ve been productive. It’s really easy to be productive when you use this system. Shit, I may as well start my own email reminder.
“Good morning, fellow lazy asses. Today’s chore is to add a banana to your ice cream. Yes, I said a goddamned banana split. We CAN DO THIS!”
Or
“Good morning, sweethearts. Today we’re all going to take a moment to remember how awesome we are. This moment will last approximately 2 hours and is otherwise known as a nap. Enjoy.”
I could really get into this. I’m like a damned guru. I will teach you ALL THE THINGS!
So, are you a list-maker? Is your house spotless or spotty? Would you call yourself organized? Does it bother you that organized is spelled with a Z and an S within this post?
When you share my posts, it brings me more joy than I can express. I know that bc I've spent the last hour trying to express it.
So, I Peed On Myself Yesterday.
Yesterday started out badly when I realized that my going-out yoga pants were dirty and I’d have to wear my staying-home yoga pants with the hole in them. I was not thrilled, but I wanted to be comfortable for my stress test so I could kick its ass.
I went to take a shower and somehow my husband’s towel was hung up on the shower head. SO when I jerked open the curtain, the towel pulled the shower head, which turned towards me and sprayed me right in the damned face with scalding hot water. The words that came out of my mouth were not nice.
At the hospital, I began nervous talking and continued to talk until I could no longer breathe and talk at the same time. The nurses now know more than they ever wanted to know about me and my family, and I learned that it only takes 5 minutes of treadmill walking before I collapse.
When I got home I stopped in at my grandma’s house and I was telling the family about a semi-funny incident where my boobs were hanging out during the test and the nurse opened the door. My grandma immediately piped up with, “Don’t know why you were worried about being exposed.” Apparently some Mardi Gras pics from 11 fucking years ago somehow made their way into her possession. So that was awesome. Now my uncle, his fiancé, her daughter, my grandma, and all my cousins know exactly how much fun I had in New Orleans. Did I mention this was 11 fucking years ago?
I took my blushy self off to the house only to discover that the phone and internet were out. The phone company sent a guy out to fix the line and Thing 3 entertained herself by staring at him through the window the whole time, the little weirdo.
Then we took a nap cause I was beat. I woke up to use the bathroom, but I guess I wasn’t really awake, because while I was *ahem* going I thought I saw a spider. I drew my legs up fast and was perched on the toilet like a monkey before I even realized that I was still peeing. Yes. I pissed all over myself and the bathroom and I don’t even think there was a spider.
Please never search for “monkey on a toilet.” You’re welcome.
So yesterday was pretty eventful. I don’t know the results of the test yet, but I didn’t die so I think I must’ve done pretty well. *pats self on back*
When you share my posts, it brings me more joy than I can express. I know that bc I've spent the last hour trying to express it.
Shit My Family Says, Pt. 3
I’m going for my stress echocardiogram tomorrow and ironically enough, I’m a little stressed about it. So to cheer me up I compiled some more tidbits from my goofy, hilarious, ridiculous, favorite family.
Thing 1: It’s Wi-Five.
Thing 2: A high five over the internet!
Husband: Do you want to wear my hat?
Thing 3: No thank you, it still smells like beef.
Me: I either drop my phone or spill my coffee or drop my lighter…Jesus Christ.
Husband: You need a fanny pack. You can just wear it around here and I won’t tell anyone.
Me: *Laughing*
Husband: Are you laughing because you know I’m lying?
Me: You know I hate it when you twerk.
Thing1: This booty brings home the dough.
Thing2: I thought you said, “this booty brings home the dope.”
Me: That booty better not be bringing anything anywhere.
Thing 1, directing traffic at a small concert, texting husband:
There are pigs fighting in a cage on a trailer. What do I do?
Nevermind.
A guy came with a prod.
There’s a lady screaming animal abuse.
They are leaving.
The following is a list of things I heard Thing 2 saying while he played Minecraft with his friends. Note the difference between what I heard and what he actually said. After each of these I yelled, “HEY! What are you talking about in there?” Or “WATCH YOUR MOUTH!” and then was informed that I am crazy and he wasn’t doing anything wrong.
What I heard: EFF IT!
What he actually said: EPIC!
What I heard: Did you take all the weed?
What he actually said: Did you take all the wheat?
What I heard: Did you smoke it all?
What he said: Did you smelt it all?
What I heard: Someone’s been stomping on my crotch and I don’t like it.
What he said: Someone’s been stomping on my crops and I don’t like it.
What I heard: Where’s the stripper?
What he said: Where’s the spider?
When you share my posts, it brings me more joy than I can express. I know that bc I've spent the last hour trying to express it.
Rambling On: Updates and Nonsense
The kitten is still an incorrigible asshole. She is an ill-mannered pest and doesn’t care who knows it. If she didn’t have such a penchant for riding on my shoulder like some sort of furry appendage, I probably would’ve kicked her tiny ass already.
Get. It. Off.
I had another blessed doctor’s appointment today and now they want to stick needles in my spine. I get to choose whether or not to be sedated. Are you fucking kidding me? My choice is always going to be sedation. Always.
I went to a thrift store while I was out and saw a few interesting items.
This gal brought back so many fond memories.
Guess what this next picture is and I’ll give you a cyber high five.
What Am I?
And finally, to demonstrate just how classy we are here in Arkansas, we apparently publish a small paper titled Arkansas Jailbirds. This is comprised solely of mugshots and charges and is quite the entertaining read. The lady I purchased mine from said that she’d sold one to a woman who claimed that all three of her children were in the same edition. The paper has features such as “Frequent Flyers” and “Wild Birds.” I’m not sure what constitutes a wild bird, but I intend to find out, as I’ll be subscribing to this publication immediately.
We Don't Chew Glass 