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?!?!?!?

Move Over Jim Carrey!

I think my son is probably going to be famous one day. Seriously... All my posts lately have been about him. Today is no exception.

Last night, his preschool had their Christmas program. He looked so handsome and grown up. I'd love to post a pic (this one is from last year); unfortunately, my husband was rushing me out the door (as usual), and I forgot my camera (again -- as usual). I only hope that my friends got a few shots and are willing to share.

Regardless, there he was in his Sunday best ready to sing his heart out. His class was the first to perform. As they entered the stage area, I saw him looking around for me. He was grinning ear to ear, and very excited. He'd been practicing so hard! He knew all the words and all the dance "moves."

Let me preface this story by saying that my little man is C-L-U-M-S-Y, clumsy. He wears glass and is nearly blind as a bat. He still hasn't adjusted to his glasses either. He is near-sighted so he gets a bit off-kilter when he looks down at his feet. "Watching his step" is literally a task for him.

Having said all that, where do you think they placed him on the stage??? Yep, you guessed it! They put him on the top of the risers. If you know anything about risers, the steps are not very wide. They are definitely NOT wide enough for an energetic dancer like my son.

So they placed my son at the top on this very narrow step. Like I said, his class was first. There performance included two Christmas songs. The first song was a very lively number, and Eli was getting into it. He was a dancin' and a singin' away! It was one of his best performances. He was so proud...until he fell off the freakin' stage!!

Yep, he was dancing like his daddy with his arms and legs just a flailing when he went off the back. He fell behind the curtain! My sweet little boy went down like a shooting gallery target! And the rest of his class just kept on singing!

I'm a bad mom because I couldn't help but laugh. However, I did run up to the stage to check on him. Hopefully, God will consider that some kind of consellation.

When it first happened, he didn't make a peep. However, by the time I reached the stage there was full-blown crying going on. I hugged him and kissed his boo-boo, but he was still crying. Finally, I asked him if he wanted to get back out there with his class and sing. With a tearful whine, he said "Yes, ma'am."

He stopped crying and got back on stage. He even went back to that same top riser. Of course, this time his teacher stood behind the stage with her hand on his back. His dance motions were a bit less animated, but he finished his performance nonetheless. And the crowd cheered him on...

For the finale, all the students got on the stage to sing. This time he did not go to the top riser. Instead, he went to the very front by the microphone. He was determined to be a star! Even when the teacher moved the microphone away, he followed it. His determination was even more apparent when another little boy tried to sing into that same mic. Each time the other boy got near, my son would stretch his arms out and push him back. We nearly had a UFC match on that stage.

All in all, it was a good time. Between my son dancing and falling, my friends' son singing LOUDER than any other child in the school, and the fight for the mic, I laughed until I cried. Christmas just doesn't get any better!! It's certainly a night I'll never forget. I wonder what he has in store for us when he performs again at his daycare program this Friday night???

One more letter to Santa... <3

So in my last post I talked about how sweet my little boy is... Well, today I am nearly speechless. His sweetness factor just went up tenfold. I have never been so proud of him as I am right now. And if he continues in the same direction, he will probably get his heart smashed into a million pieces in high school then finally make some pretty girl an extremely lucky wife. I am not kidding. I am in awe of his ability to think of others.

I always thought that little kids were self-centered and only feign interest in others because that is what they are taught to do. Like when I made him apologize to his sister for throwing my shoe at her... I doubt he was really sorry, but I want him to be well-mannered (even when he acts like a heathen) and to understand that it is not okay to hurt others. I thought that the empathy trait would develop much later in life, though.

Apparently not so. This morning Eli was acting quite determined and stubborn. He got up at 5:00 a.m. and was hell-bent on going to the mailbox by himself. He just HAD to mail yet another letter to Santa. He said that this letter was very, VERY important. He even made his dad put a Christmas stamp on it.

There I was in bed feeling annoyed because he got me up so early. I laid there thinking, "Great! He needs something else??? Like the 500 other things he listed in his last letter aren't enough?? How in the world do we pay for this? We've already spent 50 gazillion dollars on Christmas. He already has EVERYTHING available for purchase on toysrus.com. Now what?" Needless to say, I was not being a sweet, affectionate, oh-how-cute mom.

After some stern reprimands, my husband finally relented. He addressed the letter to Santa (aka Daddy at Daddy's work). He got himself dressed then got Eli dressed and headed to the mailbox with that very important letter. By this time, I'd gotten up and into the shower. When I got out of the shower, my irritability turned to curiosity. I had to know what was so important. So when he came back from the mailbox with his dad, I asked him what was the important item added to his list.

I nearly cried when he answered. My sweet little boy asked for the most thoughtful gift I could ever imagine. He said that he wrote Santa and asked him if he would go to heaven and pick up his grandma then leave her at our house on Christmas Eve. I gave him the biggest hug ever after that.

As you know, my mom passed away over the summer. This is our first Christmas without her. While my son did not get to spend much time with her, he has fond memories of her. He still thinks about her and talks about her often. It makes me sad that he never got to know her like I knew her as she was sick his entire life. It makes me even sadder that his time with her was so limited. If only Santa could grant him that wish... Unfortunately, I think he might be a little disappointed.

Christmas 101: Lesson #1 - It Is Good to Give!

We love Christmas at our house! My son especially loves Christmas! I've never seen a kid who loves a holiday more than his birthday, but mine does. He loves presents -- the more the better. Even more, he loves OPENING presents. Oftentimes, the excitement he displays prior to actually getting the darned gift open is climatic. The gift itself is only a nice byproduct of the gift opening experience.

While I really enjoy seeing him so happy, I have been trying to make him understand that the joys of Christmas come from the giving and not the receiving. (Anyone who has successfully taught this lesson to a four year old, I need your number.) I have tried to stress the importance of being humble and the value of sharing. As a result, I had both of my kids take a gift request from the the Junior Auxiliary/Carl Perkins Christmas Tree.

My son chose to give to a little boy, and my daughter chose a little girl. I let them choose the toy, help me wrap it, and put the gift under our tree. (My 3 year old daughter is still trying to figure out how she can acquire that gift instead of the needy little girl for whom it was purchased.) The whole process was very sweet, and I think my son understood...kind of.

Today, E wanted to play Santa. All by himself, he put on a red Christmas shirt, some red shorts, and his red and black snow boots. My kids are always pretending and dress up nearly every day. This get up was nothing out of the ordinary, and I really didn't think much about it.

After putting on his Santa get up, he asked if he could go out outside. Obviously, I said no since it's rainy and 40 out there. He got so upset with me, and went into this lengthy explanation of why it was so important for him to go outside. I'm embarrassed to say it, but I let him go on the porch just so I wouldn't have to listen to the whining not really understanding his mission. At least his dad made him put on a pair of black sweat pants under the shorts. Of course, mom had to convince him that the sweat pants looked like the boot covers Santa wears. He bought it and conceded.

He wasn't out there long before I realized why it was so important for him to go out. Beforehand, he filled a box with some toys he doesn't play with anymore. He then went outside on the porch, and began yelling at the cars passing by. He wasn't having much luck, so he asked me to make him a sign. The sign said:

Free Toys from Santa Eli!

He took his new sign out to the porch and taped it to our front door. He continued to chant "Ho, ho, ho! Come get your free toys! Free toys here!"

After a little while, our next door neighbor came outside and took him up on his offer. He was so proud of himself. He gave some of his toys to the little boys visiting next door. The smile on his face was worth a million bucks! And the generosity in his heart was PRICELESS!

Eerie Coincidence or Fate?

I don't know why I haven't blogged in awhile. I've certainly had lots to talk about. I guess finding the time is the hard part. Today, though, I am sitting in a condo in Biloxi while my husband and kids are at the park. There's absolutely no noise. Peace. And. Quiet. That never happens! But that's not really what I wanted to talk about...

Nope. Instead, I'm having a little sentimental walk down memory lane. I talked to one of my very BEST friends from college today. I don't think we've spoken in probably 10-15 years. We just recently reconnected via facebook, and I am thrilled to have her back in my life. Seriously, I don't know how I could let all those years pass without talking to her. We were thick as thieves back in the day. No one in the world could make me laugh like she could.

We did so many crazy things, and I've often considered writing a book. But I'm not sure anyone would believe me nor do I think that some of our "escapades" should be documented for fear that one of our children would one day use the old adage, "Yea, but you did such and such when you were my age." No sir-REE, Mister! Ain't nobody leaving here without singing the blues... Or, at least, stealing a Muddy Waters cassette from a taxicab driver in New Orleans. No, I'm not losing my mind; that was for insiders only. (Do you remember that, Lizzie?? Was that the same night we joined the band on Bourbon and played the scrub board and spoons?)

Ah... I have so many memories. Don't worry, Liz. I won't elaborate; I'll just spark your memory. Like Kenny Sumrall. Or chasing MTV to Daytona Beach and listening to Rick Springfield. Oh, and how about that time in Jackson..."Is this your friend? Well, then do something with her!" What about the time they had to pull the door off the bathroom at Ropers to get me out? What was that guy's name that work there? You know, the one you had a crush on that bought his clothes in the pre-teen department at Gayfer's? Do you remember the time I thought Brett Favre and his friends stole my Bon Jovi coat? How about "Ladies, if you're not gonna dance, get off the dance floor!" It's a wonder we are still alive. And it's even more hilarious that we both have children who rely on us. LOL!

What's weird is that as I strolled down memory lane, it dawned on my that many of my BFFs over the years have the same exact NAME! Isn't that strange? They are all named LIZ or some variation. Lizzie M. (or Lizzie L. now) was my BFF in college. Liz R. was my BFF when I moved to Tennessee. My newest BFF is Liz H. who also happens to be a coworker. Not only do they share the same name, they are all so much alike. They are all HIL-AR-I-OUS! I've had so many great times with all of them. There is nothing like a friend who can make you laugh, especially on those days when you feel like crying.

I don't know if they know how much I treasure them. I hope they do. Each one has helped me keep my sanity through lots of crazy times. I hope that my daughter will find good friends like the ones I've found. Don't get me wrong; not all are named Liz. I've got Aimees and Aprils and Beckys and Beths and Carolyns and Collettes... I could go down the entire alphabet. I really wish I could name them all, but I'm afraid my "alone" time is limited. I just hope my daughter is as blessed! There's nothing like a good girlfriend!

I hope all of my girls have a wonderful Thanksgiving! Liz H., don't forget about me next week when you go to the gym. You know my fat butt won't do it alone! And you know I'm eating because willpower is not my friend!

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.

Can't They Stay Little Forever???

So it's fall break, and I'm at home spending some quality time with my kids. They definitely feed my bipolarity. In one moment, there is complete chaos with lots of screaming and carrying on. In the next moment, all is fun and giggly to the point of peeing in my pants. They are so unpredictable, yet extremely entertaining, at this age.

My oldest is 4, soon to be 5. He loves to dress up in costumes and pretend! Lately he's been on a pirate kick. He wore a complete pirate costume to the zoo the other day including his sword and compass. No, it wasn't Zoo Boo -- he just wanted to wear it, and I didn't want to break his little heart. Of course, he received lots of stares and comments. He didn't care, though. He was in character.

My youngest is 3, soon to be 4. She is B-O-S-S-Y (like her mom)! She and I have a weird relationship. We butt heads quite a bit, but we have a connection that the boys don't understand. She makes me crazy and makes me want to kiss her all at the same time! She's too smart for her own good, and is very nurturing. She mothers her brother constantly (even when he doesn't want her to).

She, too, likes to pretend. She is ALWAYS a mom, and even has make-believe "kids." She's puts them in their carseats, rocks them in their cradle and mends their boo-boos. She's even named them - Sprinkles and Minnie.

I wish I could bottle this age because I know that I'll probably forget what this feels like once they start school. Once peer pressure starts impacting their every move, all things will change. It will break my heart the first time E decides that wearing his pirate costume to the zoo is not cool. I'll be so sad when G stops trying to mother her brother because her friends HATE boys. Why do they have to grow up so fast???

I'm not very good at keeping those crazy baby books updated. Hopefully, though, this blog will be around forever to serve as a reminder. Here are some things my kids said or did today that made me laugh out loud:

E: Mom, no school today. We're on Frog Break!

G: It was really loud in that movie-k-nator.

G: But I wanna hear "Waking Up in Vegas." (This isn't as funny coming from a 7 year old, but she's only 3 and already know Katy Perry!)

E: In his pirate coat and a BK crown, he danced and sang Phineas & Ferb's "Backyard Beach" in the middle of Burger King. (He knows the words too!)

G at Walmart: Can we go to the kindergarten? (That's the Garden Center for those of you who don't speak G-nese.)

E: Mama, you have a Judy-Booty! (If you know Judy, you know it's not a compliment.)