B8

I'm so sorry I left ya'll hanging yesterday! 

I could make up an excuse as to why, but I feel as though a picture is worth a thousand words. 

After two rather large glasses I was out cold by 8:30. Par-tay. 

Whatever happened to the days where I could stay up drinking until 3AM and be at work by 10AM like nothing happened? 

Nonetheless, I cashed out before 9 and slept like a coma patient. 

Or like someone who drank two rather large glasses of white zin, you decide. 

Sidenote: Reese is currently sick, and what is with caring for a sick child that makes you just seriously freaking unbelievably exhausted? WHEW!

B7

I seriously hate children.

I know that sounds a little crazy since I do have a three year old, so let me be more specific: I hate other people's children.

My child is not only super cute, but he's also very well-behaved in public.

And no, I'm not just saying that. He really is! 

Today I took Reese to an indoor-playground-type-place in Lewisville.

The last time I went to this place was probably about two years ago when Reese was just learning how to walk. It was on a weekday, so it was fairly dead, and we had a lot of fun.

Oh. My. Goodness. Not today!!!!

There were probably about fifty fun-sized assholes running around, most of them unattended; now that I'm looking back, I think fifty is actually rounding down.

Where are your parents!?! Oh that's your mom over there fifty feet away on her MacBook? Awesome!! Free Wi-Fi. Let's encourage parents to NOT watch their kids even less than they already do!

Those party rooms that are on the second floor are super convenient. Super convenient for parents to socialize and NOT watch their kids!

What a NIGHTMARE!

What is it with kids? What is it with parents?

Do these children act differently when their parents are around, or is that just acceptable behavior these days? If so I may check on homeschooling.

I'm that parent. The parent who will overthrow the slide dictator. 

You know the type, and if you can't remember back that far I will gladly remind you.

"You can't play on this slide, you have to go to that slide."

Oh!! I'm sorry little princess, but do you pay taxes to keep this park in good condition? 

I didn't think so, so SHUT IT.

On Reese's birthday we went to a park, and I seriously told this little brat child that she was a very mean little girl, but that's what she gets for trying to be a boss!

Back to today.

So, the place we went to is called 'Going Bonkers' and let's just say the name doesn't even do it justice.

Whenever we walked in, I felt perfectly fine, excited for some bonding time with my precious angel child. 

Whenever we left, I felt similar to my champagne hangover back in 2007.

Aren't familiar with a champagne hangover?! I couldn't even drink water without immediately throwing it up, and I felt very dizzy and exhausted. It was awful.

Needless to say, I very rarely drink champagne anymore, but needless to say, it's not like I can very rarely be around kids anymore, because they're freaking everywhere.

 Now that I am revisiting this tragic experience, when we first got there it really wasn't that bad. But then, all hell broke loose, and by hell I mean 5 birthday parties at one time, accompanied by very minimal parental supervision.

Children ranging from barely walking to teenagers dressed like baby prostitutes.

I'm sorry, but if you are old enough to have a cell phone and dress like a pre-pubescent stripper, then you probably shouldn't be chasing your friends around Going Bonkers, because you will seriously lose some street cred. just sayin'.

Of course the big kids are mixed with the little kids, it's not like at the dog park where they are in separate areas for safety reasons, and because I hate big dogs. Well, I really don't like any dog, except for my family's dog, and Dustin's dog is alright too. 

(both small dogs)

 Three year olds being trampled by kids old enough to baby sit them. 

And by three year olds, I mean my three year old, and let me tell you what... Nothing pisses me off more than a bratty little 10 year old pushing around my three year old!

Is it really necessary to get to the slide faster than he does? I mean ultimately you're going to end up in the same place... Back in line for this very same slide.

So slow your little ass down.

In addition to these climbing areas for these strange creatures that looked much like little children, but acted like little animals, they also had some quarter rides for the smaller kids to enjoy. Key words there: smaller kids.

The teacup ride played an instrumental version of "Like a Virgin" and I promise you, I'm not just saying that to make you laugh. I'm freaking serious.

So I put my three quarters in so Reese can sit in a race car for 2.5 minutes pressing a button that sounds like a horn and pretend to drive. As soon as I put the money in, I kid you not, like three kids come running over and jump on the car.

So now Reese has a passenger in his little play-car which is fine. 

Two big kids now sitting on the back of the play-car being annoying? Not fine.

Are your parents paying for the next ride? No, they aren't. So get off and go ruin someone else's day.

This continued with every ride that he rode, and I swear, after the first hour the atmosphere really started impacting my well being.

I was just looking around, hearing screaming children, being bumped by children who didn't speak English. Watching children push around one of the quarter rides because they didn't have money to play, so they were just being reckless.

I thought to myself, this is truly, truly, my worst effing nightmare. 

The room started to spin.

At that point I'm done; I'm like Reese, let's go. Now, or better yet 20 minutes ago. 

I'll buy you ice cream. I'll buy you Hot Wheels. I'll give you $20.

I'll do whatever you want, but seriously, Mommy is about to freaking freak out.

I saw at least five pregnant women walking around in there, and I'm not sure if it was in the water or what, but I certainly wasn't going to be sticking around to try and figure that one out.

As soon as we got outside, my Going-Bonkers-Hangover still didn't subside.

When we got home, we took a nap. I woke up, feeling a little better after the traumatic experience, feeling well enough to go grocery shopping.

We get to the grocery store, and I swear, there are kids running around everywhere YET AGAIN, knocking glass jars of shelves, bossing their parents, running around unattended.

I honestly felt like I was in some sort of foreign country that still accepted US dollars, and I couldn't WAIT to get out of there. I'm getting a headache just thinking about it!

The best part of the wonderful day was the fact that when asked how old he was at Going Bonkers, Reese told the 16 year old working the cash register that he was 2. I guess he hasn't really gotten on board with the whole being 3 thing, but it saved me 2.50. Now, you may think that this was dishonest, but babysitters get paid a whole lot more than 2.50 an hour, and I babysat at least 20 kids while their parents paid full price to not watch them.

The moral of the story is, whenever your time comes to pro-create, (if you haven't already) 

PLEASE take an active approach to parenting. 

I promise, it will be more fulfilling for both you and your child, and you won't regret it.

B6

As I was brainstorming about the crazy people blog I intended to write tonight, all I could think about was how much...

I love criminals.

I think I would go as far as to say that I freaking love criminals.

I also love cops, but I wouldn't go as far as to say that I freaking love them.

Criminals are great, I mean, how could you not love them?

See Below.

 I bet you're all.. "If you love criminals so much why don't you marry one?"

Because you don't marry criminals. 

It's kind of like when people love babies, but they don't have babies.

On the other side of that is my love for cops, but you don't marry cops, because they're probably already married, 

even though they're hollering at honeys as if they don't have a wife waiting at home. 

So now you're probably thinking, if you love cops and you love criminals, then you must love crime scenes, so why aren't you into CSI or something like that?

(remember the physic blog? yeah, he got it from me)

I don't love crime scenes, because they usually involve blood and guts, and there is a reason why your blood and guts are underneath your skin.

So I don't have to look at them, duh! 

I like to appreciate crime scenes from afar. 

That could mean at the end of the street, rubber-necking on 635, or from my couch.

(Who doesn't love a good episode of COPS?)

I appreciate crime scenes because you get to see cops in their natural habitat.

The criminal goes to jail, but that's usually only temporary, and even if one criminal goes to jail there are still many more criminals to watch.

I sometimes get overly invested in criminal cases.

I read the news everyday. It's not the newspaper, but then again it is 2012.

Whenever I find a particularly interesting story, I search for the criminal on Facebook.

Don't act like you don't do that too. It's completely normal.

I just want to see their picture, if I'm lucky their profile isn't private, but generally they are.

Criminals are generally pretty private about their business, until they get arrested and all their shit is on blast.. HAHA! I love public records. 

Example: the above mugshots.

Alright, so back to crazy criminals...

Recently a man drove from Sachse to East Dallas,

stabbed his wife and her parents, then drove back to Sachse like nothing ever happened.

[which is probably around a 30 minute drive one way, all street lights, not highway] 

I used to drive that route every day, and the drive alone makes him bat shit crazy.

If there were a pot of gold at the end of that drive, I would still seriously consider if it was worth it, because it's that much of a beating.

I've heard that stabbing someone is the hardest way to kill them.

I haven't really researched it though, because I'm really not in the market for murder.

(I'll just unfriend you on Facebook, which is practically the same thing)

I guess he worked up a bit of an appetite after it all went down, because they caught him after he pulled out of the drive-thru of Taco Bueno in Sachse.

Wait, so you mean to tell me that you just stabbed three people and then drove 30 minutes back to your home town to grab a freaking breakfast burrito?

According to WFAA's website, he ordered a sausage burrito and a drink.

Not really sure if he actually got to eat it, because the cops were waiting for him there, and he was immediately arrested after pulling away from the window.

I wonder what he got to drink.

The person who took his order said that he had blood on his left hand and his fingers were bandaged with electrical tape.

Come on dude, wash your freaking hands before you enjoy your burrito!

After a little bit of research, he actually is on to something here.

Electrical Tape vs. Band Aids

Band Aids are usually around $3.09 for a box of 30 bandages. So that equals to around 10 cents a bandage. Electrical tape however is about 1.73 for a roll, and get this... it comes with a freaking warranty. A one year warranty! I'm serious!

Electrical tape is also waterproof, which even the waterproof Band Aids really aren't.

Genius.

Now, if you're thinking about subbing Band Aids with electrical tape and you think I won't judge you... Guess again.

"People who recently viewed this item" 

on Walmart.com also viewed another item which I found particularly interesting: 

Large Latex Disposable Gloves

Plastic Safety Goggles

Lawnmowers

How to be a Stupid Ass Criminal

(JUST KIDDING)

My heart goes out to the family and those involved, it really is a tragic situation.

Dumb criminals just make me laugh. Good criminals don't get caught.

B5

For the past two days my right foot has been cramping like crazy. 

How does crazy cramp? 

Well I'm not really sure, but it kind of feels like my foot is about to give birth to itself.

It's the top of my foot that has been attempting to go into labor, and it's extremely painful.

It's not a tear-inducing pain, it's more of a I'm-laughing-so-I-don't-cry type pain.

[try explaining that to a three year old, it sounds like this: "I understand Mommy is laughing, but it's actually not really funny at all, and if that steak knife was a little closer I would totally cut my foot off"]

Laughing somewhat helps because no matter how much I want to cut my foot off, there's no epidural coming my way, and I have yet to figure out how to stop it.

I cant move my toes when it happens, and there was even one point where my muscles and bones in my foot were moving (I could see this happening, it was creepy) but my foot was NOT. 

And that my friends, is crazy. 

I bet ya'll are thinking "oh my god you need to go to a doctor"

Well I don't need to go to a doctor, because it's pretty clear to me what is happening.

I'm allergic to driving. And my foot is obviously rejecting my body.

I hate love driving. 

When I'm not at work or home, I'm driving. 

My commute, in total, equals two hours a day. 

Sometimes longer, depending on school buses and traffic.

Which basically means that I drive for approximately 21.6 DAYS a year, and that is not including the time I spend driving on weekends.

 WOW.

I spend less time throughout the year complaining about my period.

Now before I dog on how much driving sucks, I must admit that it has become my 

bloggity bloggle blo bloggle bloggle brainstorming time. 

(Which is a win for both of us! Just sayin!)

Before I devoted my evenings to blogging, my time devoted to driving was just...driving.

And driving, and driving, and red lights, and right turns, and yielding, and traffic, and more driving.

There are so many people in this world that suck at driving!

I have some seriously ridiculous road rage, 

and now I'm going to explain to you what I like to refer to as:

The Idiot Totem Pole

There are three different "tiers" of idiot drivers.

The lowest idiot on the totem pole would be:

The Stupid Idiot

A stupid idiot is someone who is an okay driver over all, but has some tendencies that make non-recreational drivers like myself want to punch them in the face.

Examples: Not turning right on red, or staying in the right hand lane even though you have no intentions of turning right. Using the HOV lane when you only have one person in the car, or an animal posing as a passenger. Animals don't count as passengers, just saying. Customized license plates, Christmas lights on your vehicle.

 You're hurting my eyes. Just stop.

The second idiot on the totem pole would be:

The Big Dumb Idiot

A big dumb idiot is someone who takes their idiotness to the next level. Not sure what I'm talking about? They don't even have to be driving, that's how bad it is. That would be someone who decides they need to blare their music so loud my grandmother can hear it 6 miles away buried in Restland cemetery. Today I was getting gas in Sachse, and some big dumb idiot had their hoodrat music up SO loud even Kanye West would be offended. You're in Sachse, not South Dallas. Turn it down already, no one is impressed, and you look like... Well, for lack of better terms, a big dumb idiot.

The highest idiot on the totem pole would be:

The Stupid F(explicit)ING Idiot

A Stupid F(explicit)ING Idiot is someone who honestly should not be driving a vehicle, or even walking around on this earth for that matter. The speed limit is not a suggestion, and there is a reason those signs don't say "Drive this fast if you're feeling frisky." I'm not asking you to speed, I respect the fact that you are trying to obey they law, but come on. Some of us are not recreational drivers, and in fact, we probably hate driving so much we waited till the last possible second to leave, and now its your fault we're running late. The fact that we left 10 minutes late has nothing to do with the fact we are ultimately going to be late. It's all your fault, because you're a stupid f(explicit)ing idiot. SFIs are generally very selfish, and will wait till the last possible second to merge and/or yield. Oh, you didn't see the 20 cars you just cut in front of? Then you probably shouldn't be driving, because your ass is BLIND! Seriously though why do people think where they have to go is more important than everyone else? I just want to get the F out of this CAR!

I mean honestly, what happened? What happened to 16 whenever I wanted to drive everywhere? I couldn't wait to get behind the wheel and get my own car.

I don't want my own car. Why? Because then I have to pay for it, and that really blows. I don't want to drive. Why? Because then I have to put gas in my car, and I honestly would rather go to the gynecologist. I feel like I should get a frequent buyer discount card for all the gas I buy. It's ridiculous. And it's all George Bush's fault, just like gas prices in 2007. And that is a joke, because I love George Bush, unlike driving... Which I hate.

B4

Motherhood.

The gift that keeps on giving.

24 hours a day, 365 days a year.

No sick time, no vacation time, no quitting.

[well unless you want to safe drop them at the fire station]

Being a mom is a full time job, fuller than most full time jobs. 

And most moms have full time jobs on top of this fuller time job...

While you give up a lot to be a mother, you also gain a lot in its place. 

I love being a mom, but then again, my son is really cute, so how could I not?

Before I start talking about how awesome my kid is and my own personal motherhood experiences, I have a motto for my young, single ladies who think having a kid might be cool:

(BABYSIT!!!!!!!!!!!)

My son is psychic. You don't believe me? He has the ability to wake up RIGHT before my alarm. I'm talking that last ten minutes, the best ten minutes ever, when its stolen from you it could really impact your day... yeah, those minutes.

He can wake up regardless of what time I set my alarm, 

without being prompted, more often than I prefer. 

It's not like I say, "Hey son! I'm going to be setting the alarm for 6:00 tomorrow, so if you could wake up at like 5:50 that would be so awesome." 

He just KNOWS. It's CRAZY.

I know that he gets these psychic abilities from my side of the DNA pool, as well as his good looks, sense of humor, just being an overall seriously awesome kid, and every other positive quality he possesses and/or will possess in his lifetime.

Anything else that is not awesome comes from the other side of the DNA pool, if you know what I mean.

Eczema? He didn't get it  from me. Allergies? I may have them too, but he didn't get them from me. In a bratty mood? Well, you didn't inherit that from me.

One of my favorite things about being a mom is the unconditional love that comes from my child. 

Please, don't let this be the deciding factor if you're thinking about pro-creating, because I hear puppies provide unconditional love too, and they don't pee their pants at night.

Reese is definitely a "mama's boy" [well not that he really has any other choice...]

I wanted him to be a girl so bad. I'm talking, tears were shed people, and it was not pretty. "What do you MEAN my daughter has a penis?!"

Needless to say, I got over it. A little boy's love for their mother is something that cannot be measured by words; it is amazing. Not to mention, their little pee-pees come in handy when you are at a park and there are only porta-potties around... Just sayin'

I've heard people talk about THE mom look. If you aren't sure what the mom look is, maybe your mom never perfected it (and for that you are LUCKY). The mom look is that look she gives you, and you know you're screwed, so you really have no choice but to burst into tears. Yeah, that one.

I have perfected it.

I know!!! That's what I said too, but the other day I did it and it totally worked. I couldn't believe it! He was taking a crap when it happened, but he had just gotten in trouble on his way to the john, so this is where the mom look came in. 

Tears were shed, laughter was held. I left the room, laughter was released.

The actual event wasn't funny. I felt very accomplished, but disciplining my child is difficult, because of this:

yeah, exactly.

This is Reese's sad face, and it is something he mastered before he was even born. 

Seriously, it was the first thing he ever did in his life, and I'm not even kidding.

Depending on the circumstances surrounding the sad face, it may or may not have come from my side of the family. Example: he's trying to be cute and/or funny, it comes from my side. He's in trouble and makes that face to get out of trouble? It came from the other side.

I know what you are thinking, and I agree. It is hilarious, and it's what makes my mother job a little more interesting.

This was actually a reenactment; his actual sad face is much more dramatic, and his little cheeks poke out... it's precious.

Just one more adventure in motherhood.

He's the best ever. He gets it from me. But you already knew that. 

B3

Today I want to talk about something that is very important to me, and it should be important to you as well.

There's two types of people in this world.

Those who use proper grammar,

and those who do not.

I'm not talking double negatives, or subjects and predicates, or even dangling participles.

I'm talking about punctuation abuse, and it is a serious problem in our world.

With things like Facebook, Twitter, texting and of course, BLOGGING!

People feel as if they need to either use an excess amount of punctuation to prove a point, or they neglect the punctuation by not using any at all.

Now, I don't know about you, but whenever I read something, I actually hear a narrator in my head. 

For you it may be your favorite actress, maybe its Obama, maybe it's Morgan Freeman.

In my case, my narrator is just myself, so nothing 'spesh here.

This is where YOUR punctuation abuse becomes MY problem, because then MY in-head narrator sounds like a friggen MORON because of YOU.

It's all YOUR fault!

[no pressure]

There are three types of punctuation abuse that I am going to touch on tonight.

1. Excess exclamation points.

example: Hey!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm so glad it's Monday!!!!!!!!! I brought chicken for lunch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Let's just be honest, no one is ever excited it is Monday, unless its your birthday, pay day, or you don't have to work, which basically means that Monday is really just an extension of your weekend, and that means I am jeally. 

(and that's not really Monday)

The fact that you brought chicken, well okay, chicken is delicious, but is it really necessary to use fifteen exclamation points?

Let me answer for you... NO!

2. Not using commas at all, or using them incorrectly.

example: Hey I am so glad, it's Monday I brought chicken, for lunch.

I'm not sure who taught you what in regards to grammar, but a comma is used to indicate a pause in the sentence. So now my in-head narrator just sounds like they're really out of breath, or it sounds like you are a friggen IDIOT! 

just sayin'

3. Ellipsis

Not sure what an ellipsis is? Then you probably shouldn't even be using it.

...

^^

Look familiar? That is called an ellipsis. You're welcome. 

Try incorporating that in your lunch conversation tomorrow!

The purpose of an ellipsis is to indicate an unfinished thought, end of a sentence, or a trailing off into silence.

Notice: I did not say that it's used to end EVERY sentence.

Whenever this is used incorrectly, it really bothers me, because my in-head narrator sounds like she's on heroin and is about to nod out mid-sentence.

example: Hey...I'm so glad it's Monday...I brought chicken for lunch...

That sounds like this:

Hey (three second pause) I'm so glad it's Monday (three second pause) I brought chicken for lunch (three second pause)

This is just completely unnecessary, and honestly, it makes me want to unfriend you on Facebook and never talk to you again.

This is just a brief summary of punctuation abuse that I encounter quite frequently.

One day I will blog about pronoun neglect, but that is a subject for another day.

If you are thinking 'oh my god why is she blogging about me?'

It's not about you.

But if you are abusing punctuation......

PLEASE, STOP, THANKS, BYE!!!!!

B1

Hello! 

After fighting the urge for as long as I possibly could 

(probably 2 months)(knowing I would be forever changed!) 

I recently [finally] gave in and accepted my sister's invite to Pinterest.  

I now want to knit, glitter everything I see, 

cook cakes and other miscellaneous items in crock pots and yes... BLOG!

(just a side note, who knew how hard it was to spell 'miscellaneous'? Thank you GOOGLE!)

My days are now consumed with daydreaming about arts and crafts. All. Day. Long.

Except of course, when I'm looking at hilarious pictures posted to the "humor" board, 

and finding other ways to avoid doing anything productive.

Alright, so here I am in the blogging world. 

Bloggity blog blog.. what a fun word to say.

Recently, in addition to my new addiction (say that ten times fast) 

I have made some lifestyle changes that a lot of people have been questioning. 

As a self proclaimed queen of the McRib and other deliciously tasty yet absolutely horrifying caloric/fatty foods, I have changed my ways!

 I have started eating healthy and... hold your breath! exercising a little bit as well. 

This has spurred a lot of my friends and family to be like ... WTF? 

YOU'RE SO SKINNY!

...you don't neeeeeed to lose any weight!

you're crazy! 

(not to say that I am not crazy, because we all have our moments...)

YOU LOOK FINE THE WAY YOU ARE!

Yes, I'm pretty (tell me something I don't know) and yes, 

I was blessed with a good metabolism (thank you DNA!)

However, I was not taking care of my body...

 and if I don't take care of me, then who will?

In addition to wanting to look good in a bikini, it's important for me to take care of myself so I can be around for a long time to take care of my little me-nugget, Reese.

 (I know what you're thinking and  I swear, I did NOT name him after the candy... even though, at the time, I did love [was borderline obsessed with] them.)

So, I have substituted my eat-whatever-i-want habits with some non-heart-attack-inducing options. 


My lunches look more like this:

When they used to look like this:

And yes, that is a fat-free snack pack... jeally?

Instead of taking the elevator, I take the stairs, and I jog about once a week.

Now, converting to a stair walker from an elevator rider was actually something I had to train myself to do; I was so accustomed to riding the elevator that I actually had to teach myself to bypass those shiny metal doors every day. This is probably a good choice for more reasons than one, seeing how the elevators at my office don't have those convenient automatic-door-opening sensors, and living a long life would be a little complicated if I got squished in between some elevator doors and died, would it not?

 My doctor told me about six months ago that if I exercised I would have no trouble sleeping at night. 

When she asked me how often I work out I was like 'umm... never?'

I actually scoffed at this, because I was like... 

What does that have to do with ANYTHING? 

But man, was she ever right... On the days I do jog, I sleep much like a person that is in a coma.

 I guess a medical degree will do that for you. Sorry DOC!

In addition to my stair-walking and weekly jogs, I have also started drinking a lot of water, 

and have eliminated soda out of my diet entirely. This was actually a lot easier than I thought it would be, 

and now I find myself wanting to drink only water and nothing else. Eating healthier actually wasn't hard at all... really all I had to do was WANT to do it, but I'm glad I did. Good times.

Well, I guess this is the end of bloggerino #1. 

LATA!