Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Peppered with Nonsense

Since my last post I've basically hit CTRL/ALT/DEL on life.  But you don't care about that.  I know why you are here.  You wanna make sure your life isn't the hot mess mine is.  So rather than my usual rambling, here's a taste of recent events, which include pitt bulls, artificially intelligent home computers, ferrets and of course, my six pack of sloths.

Since I haven't been here since April, let's begin with Mother's Day.  My supportive sister Karen escaped moved away, leaving me here to celebrate the day with my own mother.  On a sucktastic scale, it was a 10!  My mother lives on the compound I used to call home.  Next door to my ex-husband.  They are totally BFF.  And I was there.  On Mother's Day.  Without my sister.  With them.

My sister did send me a "happy mothers day" ecard.

Good thing we had these on hand.

But it was as awesome as a colonoscopy.  The day ended with alcohol.  And regret.  
But thankfully regret goes well with alcohol. 
I'm not sure yet if you take these to become one or avoid one.  I'm experimenting.

Okay, so my oldest daughter has a new hobby of raising pitt bulls.  These pills are in her arsenal.  I couldn't pass up the chance to show you these pills exist.  And the pitt bulls are on borrowed time at my address.  She has a job and supports this habit.  But we all have jobs.  The dog's job is to help the six pack drive me to alcoholism, while destroying what's left of my home and my liver.  My job is to buy more pills.  And exercise less self control than I do now.

But my crew does try to help sometimes.  Just last week they decided to make me coffee before I got home from a long day at work.  They've never done anything like that before.

Nor should they ever do it again!  I'm not sure what I like most about this, the fact that they used whole coffee beans in my regular coffee pot or that they used a cupcake liner as a makeshift filter. Instead of using the ground coffee and filters sitting on the same shelf.  Not that it ever matters to them where things are kept.

But nothing in my house goes where it should. Toothpaste, for example, is a hot commodity.  If we were in prison, which most days I feel I am, toothpaste would be worth a pack of cigarettes.  And with one functioning bathroom at the moment, in a household of seven, people are brushing their teeth under creative conditions.

Jesus, take the wheel.

If you've been here before you know nothing is put where it actually belongs. 
I have given up.
I didn't even ask why deodorant was in my crockpot.

Do you remember the bandit who took the marshmallows out of all the hot cocoa packets?  The bandit found the Lucky Charms.

Am I gonna talk anyone into eating this now?

So I mentioned ferrets.  Yes, ferrets have infested joined my household.  My mini-me wanted a ferret.  She had to have one.  She bought it and got it on her birthday.  We named him Gus.  And Gus was fun and cute and very entertaining.  He was also mischievous.  He would find little places to hide from us.  One morning I could not find him anywhere.  I searched the house completely.  Then I remembered I needed to empty the dishwasher that I ran that morning.

Oh the humanity!

I think I cried for two weeks.  I lost my $h*t that morning.  Thankfully, the "Pitt Bull Whisperer" was home and she helped me off the ledge.  We buried Gus that very day.  And then the mommy guilt set in.  

So we now have three ferrets and two pitt bulls and a cat and fish and whatever else wanders up!

And they are mischievous!  This one came pre-packaged!

If it's not enough for my own crew to drive me closer to my alcoholic predisposition, I can create my own mess.  I don't usually talk about me here, unless it relates to being the mother of sweathogs but I did mention in February that I had a fella in my life, so I need to say one thing about that.  Well....remember when Detective Elliot Stabler abruptly was just gone from Law & Order SVU?   That kinda happened.  And he wanted out of his contract anyway, so everyone is happy.  Stay tuned. 

And life is anything but boring.  The people in my life help make it interesting.  My kids, for example, decided to create a profile for me on Instagram because I needed to be hip and in touch with my people.  I found out about it last week.  They created my profile four years ago!  

And to all of you who may know me or are one of the 87 people following me, I apologize now for anything you may have seen because that was not me!   It was my progeny! And to the 42 people I am apparently following, I don't know who you are and why I am interested in you but I look forward to figuring all of this out in my spare time I plan on having in 2032.  

This is why I have trust issues!  Even my computer has betrayed me!  Apparently, I am a LOSER!
Is it possible my knuckleheads did this?  I just bought this computer a few weeks ago.  It didn't take long to form an opinion about me.

Not exactly an exercise in self esteem.
This is every time I am on the damn thing!

So this "Loser" is now back in the swing of getting kids to carpool for different schools and getting to her job and cleaning up after pitt bulls and ferrets and running out of vodka and making halloween costumes.
So I've mentioned that I live in Mobile but the job is on the other side of Mobile Bay and I have to get up at the asscrack of dawn to get seven people moving in different directions and I'm always running late across that bay.

This is in my immediate future

Last week I ran out of my driveway with my crew still getting dressed in the car.  I had to make a stop but when I got back in the car I was down one kid.  "Where's Mini-Me?"  "oh, she never got in the car", so as I peeled back to my driveway, there she was, sitting out front, backpack alongside, eye rolling.  When she got in my prison bus van, she said "I knew you'd figure it out at some point".  And not one of those asshats made a noise about the fact that I left one of them at home.

My prison bus needs one of these "on board" signs

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

How You Know You May Have Failed as A Parent but Nailed It as a Sane Person

This is not me

As people go, parents may be about as sharp as marbles. What sane person would go out of their way to be wholly responsible for another human being, let alone multiple people?!  We take care of every conceivable need our young present to us.  We clean up the unthinkable.  We hold and love them while they scream to get away from us.  And eventually, spend all of our money buying things to make their lives easier.  All while we are constantly hit with demands, whining, screaming, fit-pitching, negotiating and badgering. 

With little sleep.  And no appreciation.



Maybe you are awesome, but I can't do all the crap my kids ask of me.  And I certainly can't do all the crap other people think I should be doing for my kids.  And I don't have enough grey matter to negotiate and explain myself every time I have to avoid something that sounds like work.  Or something really unpleasant.  Or boring.  Sometimes I have to decide between being a noble parent or keeping the little sanity I have.   Here's a list of ten things I may or may not have done to choose sanity over being a good parent. 

  1. Fed my kids nutella on sandwich bread for dinner because it made them shut up and that was all I cared about at the time. It's really all I usually care about.
  2. Sipped whiskey during homework time and said it was tea but kept them from drinking from my glass by telling them I was contagious with something gross and there may be tiny invisible bugs in it.
  3. Kept my kids home from school instead of going to the state capital with their class.  And I may have told the teacher my grandmother died.  She died three times that year.  But the thought of riding on a bus with a slew of fourth graders made my nerves crawl in a corner and assume the fetal position.
  4. Told my kids the car wouldn't start when they begged to go to Chuck E Cheese.
  5. Bought my kids all the candy they wanted if they'd agree not to make me do Halloween.  Deal!
  6.  Hid cookies in my bedroom. Which I ate.  While they hunted for them. And fought.
  7. Taught them "conservation" by explaining if they were in the shower for longer than ten minutes, the "good" water would get used up but would be replaced by toilet water.  I'm probably going to hell.  On a rocket.
  8. Told my kids I had to leave for a few minutes after dinner because I forgot to "fill a prescription".   But really I had to leave because they were being hormonal jackwagons and the prescription was for me to drive two miles to Applebees and order a glass of wine and fantasize about running away to the poor bastard behind the bar.
  9. Had my kids air dry their towels to reuse for a week at a time because the washing machine would not spin.  It was working just fine for me.  I was just tired of washing a load of towels every night that were only used to dry off clean little bodies for five minutes.  That damn washing machine stays broken!
  10. Got out of carpool by telling the school I had to be at another one of my kids' schools at the same time school dismissed.  I played the "six kids" card and they wanted to help.  Totally walked in and got my kids first.  Every day.
But for every time I get a hall pass.  There's an infinite number of times I am the bug and not the windshield.  I do plenty.  I'm not here for extra credit.  I'm happy to take the C+.   At this point, I'm happy just to get by.

And I'm not this woman.

 And I don't have an "Alice".  Hell, I don't even have a "Mike"! So don't judge! Because I am SANE!  I am!  Sane people solve problems.  What's the definition of insanity again?  Right!  People who see us in public may question me but I've decided to choose sanity over whims.  Did I leave anything out?  Have you made the same choices?  I'd love to hear about it! 

Written from the floor in my closet,

Sunday, April 19, 2015

If I Never Had Kids

when people think of my family
I have children. Six of them. I was only supposed to have two.  Not exactly the poster child for family planning.  And even though I accidentally had six kids, I had them because I wanted to be open to life.  This also meant I was open to living life for someone else other than me. 

I was told as a young bride I would never be able to have children.  Seriously. Since my marriage was not exactly a love story, thinking I wouldn't even have the consolation of children devastated me.  After years of expensive fertility treatments, I had my first daughter.  I wanted her to have a sibling so I went back, only to have triplets.  I figured I could never conceive on my own, so in my carelessness, I was expecting before the triplets could even stand, with my fifth. When she was a year old, I didn't pay attention to my body's signs and conceived my son Sean, who died just after he was born.  Several years later, thinking I was too old & stove up, I ended up a cliché, 40 and pregnant.  So today I have five teenagers and a six year old.  And I'm gonna see 48 candles on my cake this year.  And I'm single.  So it got me thinking.

What if, when that doctor said I'd never have kids, that I gave up.  Saved all that money, put my passion in things I wanted for me and chose a childless life.  By all appearances, I would be more successful.  I'd probably gotten divorced much sooner with no kids to keep me in a passionless marriage.  I would have remarried someone who meshed in my childless life.  I would have become a bad-ass in my career because I'd have so much time to devote to it.  I'd likely live in a nice home with floors you could eat off of and unstained furniture and expensive dinnerware.  And it would smell like Christmas. I'd buy a new car every four years and take expensive vacations.  Since I love to be around people, I'd probably entertain a lot in my beautiful home.  I would have a vast collection of jewelry and shoes and a fashionable wardrobe. I could have taken many opportunities I wanted to take, but couldn't because I was responsible for others, who had to come first. I would have taken better care of myself.  I would have slept. A lot. Worried less. Pampered myself more. 

But the fact is, I did have kids.  A slew of them.  And in making the decision to create a family, I dramatically altered my life, and not just in material ways.  Yes, I live in a modest home, drive a car previously owned by Fred Flintstone, eat off of chipped dinnerware, drink from mason jars, wear costume jewelry & socks that don't match, drink vodka in my closet, buy only clothes on sale, sleep when & where it works out and almost never pamper myself.  I put up with nonsense that normal, sane people shouldn't deal with, clean up things that require a biohazard suit, have debates with people who act like tiny drunks and frequently get told how I'm doing it all wrong. 

But I have to be at peace with that and know I am getting a return on my investment in me.  I have to realize that it's my hardships that make me a better person if I learn the lesson being taught.  If it's your kids and you're worn out and they are have more drama than The Walking Dead and you wanna run away, then you're gonna have to decide if this is a battle worth fighting.  If it's other asshats in your life you have to decide where your ownership is with them.  You've heard it's easy to love people who love you but it's another thing to show love to people who don't show you love. But you should do it anyway.  You aren't conceding to them, you are growing into a better person.  And when people wrong you or cause you grief you have to ask if it's your fault or not, because if it is, you have to make it right. If not, you can't own other peoples' issues.  Be that person who can appreciate sacrifice because you've been on the other end of it.  Appreciate being considered first because you know how it feels to be last. Handle stress because you get that most people complain about stress because they want someone to say "I know it's hard and I care about you" and when they don't, it hurts, so they complain.  Include everyone because you know what it's like to be excluded.  Every parent can relate to these things. I say "thank you" a lot because I feel the importance when it is said to me.  I love to do for others because I know how wonderful it feels when someone goes out of their way for me.  All of that heartfelt, character building stuff comes with a life lived for others, not yourself. 

You can fantasize about living an easier life and you may actually have an easier life.  Just know that when you feel the walls closing in and humanity is acting less than human to you, that you still persevere.  You show up!  You get the lesson!  You chose this life because you wanted to give to others.  And no matter what the negative committee says to your head, you are giving all of you every minute of the day.  And that means the world to the ones who need you.

Now I have to go unclog the toilet.  again.


Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Mamajulep Vs The Six Pack

My most popular posts are always about the insanity that comes with my super-sized crew.  I guess it makes y'all feel better to know it could be worse! If you've never questioned my sanity before, you are about to.  I thought my sanity was tested when I had five in car seats with four in diapers.  I thought it was tested when I added a sixth kid when I was forty-one.  I thought I had gotten through the worst of it.  Remember, I did this...

I got pregnant right after I delivered triplets. After my oldest had turned all of three.  Let's have a moment of silence and let that stupidity sink in for a minute, shall we?

Because I topped myself.  I got divorced just as five of my six were in the throws of puberty.

A moment of silence folks.  Seriously. 

So now I get to deal with hormones and attitude and eye rolls and back talk, without even having another adult present so I can hide in my closet and drink with Jim Beam without worrying that they are hot-wiring the car or making homemade wine in the shed. 

Because they absolutely could.  Kids are resourceful these days and can find out anything they want... with Google.  It's like I'm raising six little Macgyvers.  I have to be creative.  I have to be willing to do the unconventional.  And I try to only pick battles I can win.  It's just me here folks.  No back up.  Their dad is hold up in his compound and comes to help when hell freezes over not so much, and it's on me to get these kids grown with enough Jesus in them to stay outta big trouble and take care of me when I'm even more old and stove up.

My latest battle is laziness.  Laziness on steroids.  Here's the floor of their shower on any given day:

 Because it's just too hard to put shampoo and body wash upright when you're done.  It's way better to leave them on the floor of the tub, preferably with the lids open, flat down, so the money mom spends product can run completely down the drain.  All at once.  It's okay.  Just tell mom we need more.

So I fixed that problem.  I went and got these.

I did not get them jello shots. That would have made me a hero.  And possibly imprisoned.  I did get me some of those itty bitty containers.  That is what held their individual shampoo and conditioner.  It was allotted to them by the week.  After presenting it to them, you would have thought I was giving them only two liters of oxygen for the week.  Let's just say they protested.  Until they saw the body soap replacement.

They were not impressed.  The thought of using bar soap nearly made them cry.  I reminded them I grew up with bar soap, as did every adult they know.  I think I heard their collective epidermises faint.

So then, I listed a number of offenses I am sick of.  There were many.

I'm tired of the wrappers being everywhere. They can't put anything in a garbage can.  It's like there's a force field around the garbage cans I have in every. room. of. my. house!  Any other surface is acceptable.  Like a counter top right next to the garbage can.

Or a coffee table.  Or the floor.  Or my bedroom.  Or my BED.  and I'm sick of it!

And this is me.  And I've given them a kazillion chances to throw away the wrappers.  And clean up the dishes they use.  Yet the sink stays full.  And they keep using any container rather than washing one dish. 

At least I have my Tupperware. They haven't left it outside for dogs to chew up.

Oh yeah.

So Mamajulep snapped.
And did this...
And every cabinet that had pre-packaged food or glass dishes got the "lock-down" treatment.  If they can't clean behind themselves, they don't get the luxury of using my stuff.  But I'm not unreasonable.  I made sure everyone had access to basic dishes. 

Each knucklehead was given a plate, cup and bowl from the picnic section at Walmart.
It was all labeled by name so you knew who didn't wash their dish.  It was brilliant.  If they asked for coffee, I had mason jars on stand-by.

For two weeks, I was winning.
And they were getting it.

Then they opened Google.  With a bobby pin, they mastered the master locks.  I can't decide if I should be upset or proud.  I mean, they were resourceful.  Gotta give them that.  And they ended up being too lazy to use the bobby pin on the locks while they were on the cabinets.  They only used them when I had the locks off.  Sloths.

Still winning.

So I'm not sure how far this will go, but I am willing to keep it up.  I figure, if they don't get laundry under control, they're each getting a towel and washcloth.  Because I am sick of cleaning up behind the frat party.  The six year old is my hero.  She doesn't really get "the treatment" but she wants to be included in the camping dishes.  They think she's nuts. 

Everyone is back to doing their assigned chores too.  But I've added a little bonus to anyone who eye rolls or back talks.  They get one of these door prizes...

And if they don't quit moving the thermostat to an environment conducive to hanging meat, I'm gonna get me one of these...

And since they've slacked on the chores, the cable is off but they still have internet and Netflix.
For now.
Just so you know, I love my kids.  I want to do for them and spoil them as any parent does.  But I also want them to become decent people and not asshats, who other decent people want to live with someday.  Sometimes the medicine is worth the bad taste for the cure.  I hope this is a short term fix to teach a valuable lesson on being responsible and considerate to those you live with.  I am known to my crew as being a mom who will resort to some unusual tactics to teach a lesson.  I think they will, at the very least, remember this one.
Just remember what I said earlier about insanity.  Okay?

Friday, February 13, 2015

A Valentine's Day Story

One of the scariest concepts is the word "change".  Because no matter how hard things might be, we imagine they could be worse.  But if we're being real, we know change is always there.  And sometimes it hits us... HARD.

When I made the decision to leave my former address, it was all about change.  Everything would change.  And it rattled every cell in my disheveled body.  But it was also exciting.  I had hope.  I missed "hope" and knew it was time.  Way past time.

You've been there.  It may not have been the end of your marriage but it was a loss or change that shook you.  We all experience disappointment and change.  There's a sadness in losing the familiar but there's an exhilaration in knowing you have hope to create a future you had not imagined before. I never thought I would be here.  It was like an out-of-body experience.  What would I do with this new life where I was childless on alternate weekends?  I didn't know how to act without my crew strapped to my ankles, screaming that we're out of toilet paper or negotiating chore charts like a senate debate...but I was willing to try!

At first I spent those weekends making a permanent impression in my lazyboy.  Most friends were doing the "married with kids" thing and didn't need their pathetic pal being a buzz kill.  My single friends seemed to have mastered socializing and dating (an idea which made me want to vomit a little).  I had few people to connect with.  It was when I started to name my future 37 cats that I decided it was time for Mamajulep to get a life.  Maybe I should take a photography class.  Or try playing tennis.  Everyone had gone nuts about yoga and zumba, maybe I should try it!  The slate was so blank and I was all over the place.

No. Not me. Not ever.  
Months went by and I was still spending my solitary weekends home, doing chores, watching romance movies and eating ice cream straight-from-the-carton in my yoga pants and stained gap t-shirt.  And every commercial advertised a dating site where happy, beautiful people found each other.  And I hated them! The only thing I had found were four new wrinkles and insomnia.   Photography classes weren't available on weekends.  I found out I suck at tennis.  And apparently I'm not mature enough to take yoga seriously.

Something had to give.

So finally a girlfriend decided we should meet after work one Friday night and just be out with the living.   It was just a simple stop for a drink and some food.  After being a shut-in for so long, I felt like this...

That's when I found out I liked people.  I had just not been around the right ones yet.  And after that night, everything just kinda snowballed and this new life took off and it strangely felt normal and comfortable (better than my yoga pants!). 
And so I was just trying to be normal and be around people and get my compass facing north again, and NOT look for a relationship because what I wanted was friendship.  And the very night my girlfriend made me get out in the world was when my compass got it right.  In the short time she and I were there, I looked up in the right direction and saw this fella...

Okay.  Maybe I didn't encounter Bradley Cooper. But I did encounter a beautiful man who understood me and offered the friendship I needed. Minus the Hefty Bag.  But he did kinda have a passion  obsession  thing for football. And that is where the similarities end except, like the couple in the movie, we had both recently been through the loss of our marriages and both of us were still trying to get our bearings.  And it was a good place to be since he and I sorta-kinda knew of each other from another lifetime ago and we had mutual pals.  We spent time becoming friends to one another.  So I knew he was safe and decent and good and wouldn't take me home to show me his Star Trek collection.  Then one day turned into several, then several turned into several more.

And since we had no plans or expectations and just lived in the moments, it was joyful.  I eventually had to make let him meet the motley crew and am still shocked he didn't escape and join the Witness Protection Program.  My crew meshed with his one little princess and we just let the gang find their groove in their time and gave them a voice in all this.  It all happened so naturally before I realized I had created my new normal.

That was nearly three years ago.  And no situation is perfect.  Especially when you throw in seven kids.  And his crazy relatives.  And my crazier relatives.  But in all of this nonsense, even on tough days, we're nauseatingly happy.   I'm amazed at where I am these days.  I still don't know what my future holds.  None of us do.  But I do know, my compass is pointing in the right direction these days.

I'm not sure what his blog handle will be yet.  I'm having fun with his name.  When we started out, a very popular book was read by the female public everywhere.  A book which has been made into a movie and premiere's this week at the box office.  The leading male character's fictional name is the same name my fella has in the real world.  In the early days, it was a little fun and sometimes awkward when folks would tease me about dating CG.  I'm guessing I'm about to hear those jokes again.  I can promise you we will NOT be seeing that movie this weekend! For today I suppose I will simply call him "my valentine".

Happy Valentine's Day!

Monday, February 9, 2015

Ill Equipped and Stove Up

It's funny when people think I've got my schmit together just because I made six babies and they are still alive.  The fact that they are alive by no means suggests I'm equipped to have anything together.  My weapon of choice is wine duct tape.  Most school days I pull into carpool still getting us zipped and tied up, hoping nothing embarrassing falls out of my prison bus when the doors fly open.  If my crew makes it to school wearing matching socks it's reason enough to celebrate.  My life is an act. I screw up way more than nail it.

What I aim for
What I get

Yes.  That's the same kid.
I'm sure I'm red-flagged in a file folder somewhere.

So when I see other moms who don't hit it out of the park, I don't get all judgey and wear my behind where my head goes.  I feel their pain. Because I suffer from the same condition.  I think it's called "cant-get-your-shit-together-itis".  One morning, I dropped my youngest in her classroom and noticed a classmate with a pair of pants that were enormously too big for him.  He also had on two different shoes.  I'm not talking "similar" shoes that were accidentally put together.  I'm talking completely. different. shoes. because his mom probably couldn't find two matching shoes that day.  I remember the teachers shaking their heads in disbelief.  I thought she was pretty damn brave to send him anyway despite whatever she went through that morning.  I wanted to get her name and buy her a drink!

Then today in carpool, I was pulling up and saw a mom pushing a stroller, walking with her preschool son to likely pick up more kids of hers! He was wearing a cape and superhero mask and walked up to that school like he owned the joint.  It was a very cool sight to see.  I want to be her one day.

We all want to be "that mom" who wears the right clothes and has the best sense of humor and seems to have it all together.  And some days, we GET to be her.  But we can't be her everyday.  And it's exhausting trying to pretend to be a functioning adult when you are surrounded by mouthy, unruly creatures that you made yourself,  who's only purpose seems to be to embarrass you and show off your failures. 

And failure comes in every part of your life.  Just like success.

I've been dieting for two weeks.  Dieting kills your soul.  That's why they call it DIE-ting.  I've done well but I am sick of eating cardboard and monkey grass!  Plus it's interfering with my adult beverage consumption.  And it's Mardi Gras season where I live, so...DAMN!  So today I gave in.  Big time.  My pal next door called at dinnertime and wanted to borrow some milk.  I told her all I had was fat free, which likely shocked her, and this is how it ended before she showed up at my door.

I think she was referring to being able to eat low carbs and sugar, but by the time she came over I was drunk on carbs and couldn't form sentences.  My body was recovering from ketosis
I may be exaggerating. 
But it felt like it. You see, I'm trying to get back to doing some things I love and so I auditioned to be in a play at a local theatre.  and I NAILED it!  I get to play a lead character in a Neil Simon comedy and am having so much fun.  I get to play a high strung, do-it-all mother who likes to drink and cuss at life (so it's an autobiography). But the vein part of me wants to lose ten pounds before I get on stage in three weeks.  Because I'm never satisfied.  But I've almost gotten there so I just need to avoid an extra helping of mac'n cheese.  And I probably should exercise. And stay away from package stores.
Like that's really gonna happen.

Remember to keep comments here if you can! I have a Valentine post I'm putting out later this week, so check back in soon!

Sunday, January 18, 2015

Random Things that Decay a Mom's Brain

My brain cannot take anymore.
Not one more bit of nonsense.
Losing baby weight was easier than this.
Grad school was easier than this.
I think telepathy would be easier than this. At least if I had telepathy I could do something about it!

My kids cannot be this senseless.  They must be doing this on purpose.  Could I really be raising an army of sloths?  Stupid sloths who actually make more work to avoid?! What are they gonna do when they grow up and I make them move out and can't do a thing for themselves?  I can see them now on an episode of Hoarders because they can throw nothing away.  Then I can see the camera crew coming to my house and wondering why I didn't raise them better.  I need to come up with a story now.  I do have more evidence to present.

When you're running late making school lunches while you're also looking for matching school socks, it's super craptastic to find the last jelly jar in the fridge like this.  Since they left the lunchmeat out for no good reason (like to feed the dog my $7 a pound Boar's Head) and I had to toss it, they got to take delicious sandwiches of peanut butter and nothing.  Mmmmm, goes down easy.  Like clay.

Want some hot cocoa?  Like marshmallows?  So do I.  Ever open a packet of Swiss Miss with marshmallows only to find out a snarky kid you gave life to, has opened your last packet just to pick out every last marshmallow?  Leaving you with cocoa mixed with whatever was on their grubby little hands.  No thanks kids.  I'm full.

Need a toothbrush?  Guess what else in my house they NEVER THROW AWAY?! I have six knuckleheads and myself so easy math says I should have no more than seven toothbrushes to keep up with.  And guess what I hear every. godforsaken. morning...  "Mom! I can't find my toothbrush!".  Really?  Because we have enough for the Salvation Army.  And my crew is a bit germaphobic so they think nothing of hiding their toiletries in their bedrooms only to forget where.  And when I buy the wholesale club version of toothbrush packs and assign everyone a different color they would die before tossing the old one in case they can't find their new one!

Speaking of germs, I found this treasure the other day when I was refilling the soap dispensers.  It's a routine thing to come across something that makes no sense to anyone.  A normal person would be like "Whuck?" but no, I'm used to seeing things that never should be together and just go with it because it hurts my brain to investigate nonsense.  I never even asked them why a q-tip was stuck in the soap dispenser.  I just added more soap and moved on.  It's better that way.

And this aint new but it did have a new twist.  Opened and emptied glasses, cans and buckets in the fridge is a normal phenomenon at my house that no one owns up to.  But this empty glass still had a sonic straw in it.  You could go there.  Why put an empty glass back in the fridge when the sink is right next to it?  Why keep a plastic straw with it?  What was the plan here? Why do I hoard chicken base and feed my kids processed cheese?  Just stop.  Just. Stop.

So my kids found this stray dog.  (No good story starts this way)  And I said "no way".  We are already knee deep in critters, but I did say we would *foster* him until we found him a home.  At first I said another pal of theirs had to keep him at their house, so my sneaky six pack decided to clean out an old shed I don't use because it's condemned like me and tried to hide the dog in there from me!
Ok, so they actually cleaned something for their own use, so I know they are capable of productive work.  I've got that going for me.  They worked together without fighting, so I have that rainbow to hold on to.  But their sloth caught up with them.  They left all this $h*t on the ground by the shed, used my good broom AND did I mention this shed is right outside my bedroom window? They're not so smart as to hide evidence of stuff they wanna keep from me.  So I open the window and this is my new view. Until Child Protective Services show up.  I'm sure I'm on their speed dial.

But I can't just leave you with this, letting you think the only nonsense I have is with my crew.  No, it's in epidemic form lately.  My mom has apparently either lost some neurons or wants us to think she has because she doesn't like to communicate with us.  She can be creative.  My sister sent me this...

As you can see, the next day I kept the fun going. What else can you do?

Getting measured for my straight jacket,

Hey y'all!  I appreciate that many of you comment on my posts here through my personal facebook or my mamajulep facebook or send me texts or messages or send a pigeon and all, but it would be great if you could leave some comments here.  It looks to others like no one reads my stuff and I can see from my traffic that I get a generous amount of reads.  I would like to break into some writing that actually pays a little, so do MamaJulep a favor and put your comments here.  They don't automatically show up because I moderate them to keep a few crazy people at bay but I check on them regularly.  Thanks!