Let This Be a Lesson in Karma

So as you may have read, I've been venting away recently about my bad neighbor and her rude kid.  Glad you enjoyed the entertainment.  Anything for a laugh, right?

Dear God,
It's me LB.  Can I please take back all that I said about the neighbor's daughter?  I may have been just a bit hasty in my assessment.  I'm sure she's a good kid with impeccable manners who just experienced a momentary lapse in judgement.  In the future, I will refrain from running so quickly to the blogosphere to vent my frustrations to 50 gazillion people (I can dream, can't I??)  Thank you so much for your time and patience. 
Sincerely,
 the Mother of a REAL demon child

Let the bashing begin.  I deserve it.  I should know better than to say something bad about someone else's kid.  It's one of the cardinal rules of motherhood. 

Rule #1:  Don't EVER pass judgement on another mother's parenting based on her child's bad behavior.

Rule #2:  NEVER, EVER say anything along the lines of "My kid will never do that!" or "My kid knows better than to act like that."

Sunday afternoon, I took my daughter with me to the fabric store to buy the necessary materials for her Olivia costume.  This year for Halloween, she wants to be Olivia, the little pig from Nickelodeon.  Unfortunately, the Costume Making Company doesn't really make an Olivia costume.  Thus the reason for the trip to the fabric store.

AnyImustbefreakin'crazy, off we went to the fabric store.  One kid and mom.  Easy, peasy, lemon squeezy.  While we were there, my daughter found some purple sparkly material that she had to have.  "Ok," I said.  "If you are good, I'll buy you some sparkly purple material."

That's when she proceeded to interrogate an older lady behind us about the contents of her purse.  She even went so far as to grab at the zipper of the woman's purse.  As you might imagine, the old lady started freaking out.  She probably thought it was some purse-snatching scam where mom gets her kid to steal purses from unsuspecting elderly folks.

After much discussion about how wrong it is to grab someone's purse and demand to the see contents inside, my daughter then started grabbing at mine.  She kept insisting that I let her dig in it.  All the while I'm standing in line with 400 bolts of fabric, spools of thread, and miscellaneous notions.  Finally, I told her she would not get the purple sparkly stuff if she didn't stop.  She didn't stop.

"No purple sparkly for you, Missy!" 

That's when all hell broke loose.  My daughter started a full-blown, fit-for-the-movies temper tantrum complete with blood curdling screams.  She grabbed the material and tried to make a run for it.  I grabbed the fabric, but she continued to run through the store screaming.  Another older lady tried to stop her on the satin aisle, but G just pushed her out of the way. 

Since I'd already had the fabric cut, I was at the mercy of the 25 mile long line being serviced by Methuselah herself.  I did manage to catch G and get in said line, but the antics did not stop there.  While holding her in the line, she threw herself on the floor while screaming.  She couldn't break my hold, though, so she kicked her flip flops off and across the room nearly hitting the other patrons.

This went on for what seemed like 72 hours straight until finally, thank you, Jesus, some nice lady offered her place next in line.  When I finally got G in the car, she proceeded to kick and scream and remove her seatbelt all the way home.  I don't think I have ever been so mad in my entire life.  I was shaking and on the verge of tears. 

All for a freakin' piece of purple sparkly fabric!!!!

No Haters Allowed!

Oh, the weather outside is frightful,
but my dear, it's so delightful,
And since I've no place to go,
I will blog, I will blog, I will blog.

Ok, that doesn't really rhymn.  But as I sit at my computer looking out my window, I can't help but be reminded how freakin' cold it is outside!!  We still have the 1/2 inch of snow on the ground that accumulated Thursday morning.  If God is looking for a concensus, I'm ready for spring!

But that's not what I wanted to blog about today.  Nope; my panties are in a wad today.  My blood has been boiling for a little while, and I've been anxiously waiting for my kids to go play nicely so I can get this off my chest!  It's a little hard to get it all out when I'm constantly interrupted by, "Mommy!  E won't give me my Theodore!" and "But Mom!  G has my Simon and won't get out of my room!"

I have to interrupt our regularly scheduled program for a brief Public Service Announcement.  Moms!  Do yourself and your sanity a favor.  Stay away from McDonald's for the next few weeks until all the Chipmunk toys are gone.  Those little talking plastic mice make me want to S-C-R-E-A-M at the top of my lungs!  They are annoying, and my kids enjoy pressing their buttons nonstop so they sound like scratched and skipping Chipmunks' CDs!

Now, where was I?  Oh yes...  My OTHER vent.  Why are people so catty?!?  Seriously, why is it so hard to be supportive of your friends or even people who are necessarily your friends??  I'm not talking about just sticking-your-foot-in-your-mouth comments.  Lord knows, I am the world's WORST at that.  Any hurt feelings caused by my big, fat mouth are purely unintentional, and I am always apologetic.  No, I'm talking about full-blown soul crushing negativity. 

Really...  Losing weight is so freakin' hard!  It really is.  I had so much fun putting it on, but I'm paying now.  I know this!  I'm also well aware of how hard it's going to be to get my body back in shape.  Hell, I'm 43 years old; gravity and my metabolism are both working against me.  I know I can't just have a few Slim-Fast drinks and POOF!  I'm wearing a size 6 again.  I'm a realist and a pessimist all by myself.  I certainly do not need anyone else to beat me up.  I already do a pretty good job of that myself, thank you very much.

In retrospect, I bet karma, my number one hater, is biting that junk in my trunk again.  Although there is no malice in my intent, I'm sure I've crushed a soul or two.  If you are reading and are still pissed at me for something I said, please, please, PLEEEEAAASSSEEE accept my sincere apologies.  And if you are a hater reading this, BITE ME!

Karma Is a Bitch!

I can't hold back the blog any longer.  I have been deliberately avoiding my blogspot for fear of what I might say.  I want to protect the innocent; but the guilty need to be exposed for the SCUM that they are.  There is really nothing worse than a woman scorned EXCEPT for her very PISSED OFF friends!

My dear friend, Lovely, (not her real name but how I think of her) has been married to Ego (should be his real name) for over twenty years.  They have three awesome children, great jobs, a mortgage, and a dog.  At 40, they are living the American Dream.  Life is good!  Right??

The week after Thanksgiving, Ego comes home to tell Lovely that he doesn't want to be married anymore.  He's met someone else TWO WEEKS prior, and he wants to pursue her.  Furthermore, he wants to continue living at the house since he can't afford another housing bill.  Oh, and by the way, let's not tell the children.

Are you FRIGGIN' KIDDING ME?!?!?!  He wants to "break up" after 20 plus years??  He's willing to give up his family for a little CRUSH??!!  According to him, he and Hester (remember her from The Scarlet Letter?) hadn't even slept together.  Right...and I'm the Queen of England.  Puh-leez!  Asshole!

He's since moved in with Hester.  As it turns out, she has a fabulous job at the local record store.  And she's not some young, part-time stripper/part-time student either.  No!  Apparently, she is some 40 year old loser with three children of her own!  Let's see how much SHE loves HIM when he all he has left in life is her love and the clothes on his back.

Seriously...  Let's put all emotions aside, and do a little financial analysis.  For simplicity's sake, let's say that Mr. Ego makes $75K a year before taxes and expenditures.  That's roughly $6K per month.  Only, now, Lovely gets about $2K of that.  Oh, and the mortgage will probably be another $2K.  Of course, he will have to keep insurance for his kids so let's take away another $400.  And I'm fairly certain that Hestor won't allow him to live rent-free.  Let's add another $600 a month for that.  He's down to $1,000 a month and that's before he even rolls out of bed in the morning.  That doesn't include any debt he has either!  According to my calculations, he'll need a 2nd job to afford his new CRUSH! 

Maybe she can get him on at the record store...  I'm not sure they are looking for an IMMATURE, SELF-RIGHTEOUS, SELF-ABSORBED, SELF-CENTERED, NARCISSIST like Mr. Ego, though.  Ain't Karma a bitch?!?!?!?

Signs from God

I think God keeps sending me signs. I know He works in mysterious ways, but I've never really been a witness to His work. Don't get me wrong; I'm not looking to get struck by lightning. I know He does great things through prayer and faith, but I've never felt that he was speaking directly to me. Until now...

Call it Karma, call it God, call it Order in the Universe. I'm not sure what to call it, but I've always been a believer that nastiness towards others will only lead to even greater nastiness to oneself. Take my daughter, for example. She is my difficult child. She is stubborn, hard-headed, persistent, too smart for her own britches, contrary... I'm sure many of you are grinning as you read. I know, I know... I just described myself. This is exactly my point. I dished it out, and now I'm getting it back from my own.

This is what I mean by God and His signs. Or maybe God and his way of aligning the cosmic energy??? Ya see, I am obsessed the way people look! I am forever comparing myself; and, I am miserably falling short, to say the least! Seriously, I have so many friends who look freakin' amazing! And not just amazing for a 40+ something either! I'm talking Demi Moore HOT! In fact, many of them look better than they did when they were younger. I cannot get over how well they've aged.

Now to me... I can't complain about the wrinkles because I think I've been blessed with pretty good genes. I have a few crows feet and a small furrow on my brow, but nothing serious. I'm fairly satisfied with my face (although my neck could use a little LIFT!).

It's my body, though. Or their bodies, I should say. Honestly, scrub-board flat at 43 years old??? Are you kidding me? Oh, not me -- no, I definitely do NOT fit into that category. But some of my friends do. I have one friend who has a picture of her in a bikini posted on her webpage. She's actually OLDER than me. I think she's 44 or 45 years old!

I recently found another who could seriously do Bow Flex commercials with Chuck Norris. Her body is definitely far better looking than Christie Brinkley's. Flat abs, incredibly toned legs and arms, nice and perky boobs, beautiful white teeth... I could go on, but I won't. Let's just say that I will not be standing next to her in any reunion pictures.

I know folks are probably getting tired of hearing me whine about how out of shape I am. Hell, I'm tired of my whining! But I feel so hopeless! I've gotten so out of shape. No amount of exercise and dieting can help me. Besides, I don't want to be 84 before I finally get down to a size 6 again. I want to have a good body RIGHT. NOW!!!

Sorry for the rant... The ADD kicked in. Now where was I? Oh, yea. I think God is repaying me for all the times I made fun of fat people. God doesn't like ugly. He didn't like me being such a wench. This is my punishment. I'm doomed to be the fat friend among all the pretty, skinny bitches.