Brown and runny again...

I had a kind of traumatic night.
Phoenix had a tooth that was hanging on by a thread and he wouldn't let me pull it out. So I had to sit on him to pin his arms down and yank it out with my fingers. He screamed so loud! I was very surprised that the police or social services didn't show up at my door. If we lived in a better neighborhood perhaps they would have.
Anywho...
After they went to bed I went to work, which, for once, started out pleasant. I should have known that something was brewing. When work seems too easy it usually means it's going to get worse eventually.
It did.
I carried the vacuum up the stairs, for obvious reasons, and noticed a trail of dirt and gravel, which is forever in that damned building, leading up the stairs I had just climbed. I knew something was wrong with the machine so I took it apart.
It shouldn't have been so hard to find an X screwdriver in a building full of tools but I really couldn't find a single one, not even a flat head. I had to improvise. I used Amoo's letter opener as a screwdriver, sorry Mom, to take the hose off and check if it was clogged. It wasn't clogged but everything I had sucked up the last time I had used the vacuum came flying out onto the carpet. It came out as a big cloud and POOF! I had to dust everything in the room and sweep the tiled area to the right. I took the bottom half of the stupid cleaner apart and didn't find any clogs either, just more dirt and gravel. I even smacked the filters on the inside to make sure air could pas through them. I put everything back together and swept up what I could. Unfortunately the dirt that came out of the hose had a very orange tint and it looked like I went through that office tossing dried clay dust over my shoulder, which wasn't too far from the truth. I tried the stupid vacuum again, thinking that after cleaning it out it would work again, but the damned thing wouldn't suck!
In a last ditch effort I went into the owner's bathroom and took his mini shop-vac. When it turned on I let out a shout of joy. That man will never throw anything away even if it doesn't work. He has office equipment that could probably be sold as antiques.
Anyway...
The hose had an upholstery attachment but it was only about four inches wide. So it took me two hours to vacuum that damned place. Who knows how old the filter was on that thing? I have used shop-vacs before and normally they have an astonishing amount of power. Maybe this was the first one ever made or perhaps the filter needed changing, but it just wouldn't pick up all the filth on the floor.
When I had gone over the same spots several times and they weren't getting any better, and when my back wouldn't stop cramping from being on my knees for so long, I gave up.
I waxed the floor in Amoo's office, took out the trash and got out of there before I could fuck anything else up.
Normally it only takes about three hours for me to do my job, that's even if I'm stripping and waxing the floors. Last night I got to work at 8:25 pm and I didn't lock up until 1 am.
When I got home I immediately striped off my filthy clothes and showered. All I wanted was my bed and I plopped down with a great sigh of relief, only to shoot strait back up and out with a barely controlled shriek of surprise.
My damned cats knocked my glass of water off the head of my bed while I was getting cleaned up, of course a full one, and soaked everything. I stripped the bed and had to sleep with and unfitted sheet beneath me and one of the boys' fuzzy blankets. (you know, the ones that aren't long enough for adults)
After I got settled in my newly dried bed I started reading Twilight. Everybody knows I can't sleep without reading something no matter how sleepy I am.
As usual I got engrossed and didn't put it down until around 3 am. As soon as I felt myself drifting off I realized I had forgotten to bring home the money for Phoenix's tooth from Amoo's work. Damn me! No, damn the vacuum cleaner and it's refusal to suck!
I had to give him a fully silver half-dollar that I've had since before he was born. I have a collection of coins like that and it pained me greatly to give it to him, he's not supposed to get it until I die. Well, he and Kale each get half.
Does it make me a bad mother to want to switch the money when he goes to the dollar store to spend it? That coin is probably worth about $50, not 50 cents.
So that was my night. Everything I touched turned brown and runny...
Oh well, at least it makes me appreciate the easy days.
Later
BD

Welcome oh condemned ones... to the seventh circle of hell! MUHAHAHAAAA!!!

Today was a trial of torture and endurance. If you are a parent then you know that when I say Chucky Cheese I'm really referring to the seventh circle of hell.
We promised the boys if they were good we would take them to the dreaded CC's. They were very good all week so we decided to take them. Amoo had to take Xandra and her friend to see High School Musical 3 and to Target and the mall to spend her birthday gift cards. (Another experience that can be compared to hell.)
By the time they got home from their adventure she, Amoo, had that wide eyed sort of shell shocked look on her face. We didn't have time for her to tell me how it went because the boys were jonesing for their CC and got in the car the second it was parked. Kale, of course, fell asleep three seconds after we left the drive way so I had to wake him up when we got there. If you know him then you know I would rather cut off a limb then wake him up before he's ready. But if I had let him sleep he would have missed CC's and he never would have let me live that down.
We went in, got stamped and I spent $50 on pizza and tokens. Today is Saturday and everyone and their dog was at CC's with their kids. There were probably six birthdays in the two and a half hours we were there. I hated every minute of it, I'm not very big on crowds of people I don't know.
Everything was fine for about forty minutes.
Que the ominous music...Da da daaaaaaa!
This child came up to us while Phoenix was on the helicopter bicycle ride and just stood there. I assumed he was waiting in line for the ride so I just ignored him. After a while he got my attention, pointed to Kale and asked if he was my son. I said yes he was. The boy didn't say anything else so I just turned back to watch Phoenix on his ride.
After another pause he got my attention again and said that Kale scratched him on the face while they were climbing in the hamster tubes. I said I was sorry and told Kale to say it too. He did, but he's a three year old, he didn't sound like he meant it. What did they expect from a child with the attention span of a fruit fly?
After we both apologized he just stood there looking a me with a blank look on his face, like he was expecting something else. Again, after a pause I asked him if there was something else he wanted. He again told me that Kale scratched him on the face, which I couldn't see any sign of. I reminded him that we had both just said we were sorry and what else did he want me to do?
This is where the mask of the idiot child dropped, though I still think he's an idiot. I know it's not nice to say that about a child, but I'm sure you'll understand by the end of this story.
But I digress...
He threw his arms above his head and said, "I don't fucking know but my damn face is a fucked up now because of him!"
It was like he expected me to flog my three year old for his amusement.
As soon as he cursed at me I told him to go away and turned around to help Phoenix with his stupid ride.
About two minutes later the cro-magnum child came back with all of his relatives including his mother who has a mouth the size of the grand canyon.
I asked him what he wanted and he started cursing at me again saying that he didn't appreciate me turning away from him while he was talking to me. Like I owe him some kind of respect. I told him that I don't deal with anyone who talks to me or my children like that.
Then the mother had to interfere.
(Oh, let me explain that this child that Kale 'assaulted' was three times his size. He was way bigger than Phoenix both in height and girth, and my eldest weighs 65 pounds.)
The mother said I should give him my attention when her 'baby' was 'speaking at me.' Can you feel the intelligence radiating from her?
I told her exactly what he said to me and exactly what I said to him. She just nodded her head then looked at me like she expected something. So again I asked what she wanted me to do about it. She said I should let her son hit my son. I shit you not, it's what she said. There was a whole group of people watching us by then and some of them gasped in shock. I mean who in the hell would suggest such a thing?
I told her that her son was three times Kale's size and if he so much as touched him I would have him arrested. Then she started repeating herself over and over. You know, what ignorant people do when they're arguing and can't think of anything to say.
With her head bobbing from side to side she started yelling swear words at me and both of my kids. She insulted us in every way then started taking steps toward us. Anyone who knows me understands that I have a very bad temper, and anyone who has kids would understand what happens to your brain when your child is threatened. The red haze started coming down over my vision.
I felt it coming on so I held out my hand to get her to stop and told her to back the fuck off. (The first curse out of my mouth since leaving the house.)
She started yelling the curses at me again telling me not to push at her and I couldn't tell her what to do. And if I didn't let her son hit mine she would take him and beat the hell out of him herself.
When she paused for a breath I asked her, as I walked away, "Does threatening a three year old make you feel big and strong? You're pathetic."
I went to the manager and told her that if she didn't want me to start a fight in her restaurant she should go tell that woman to back off and not threaten my kids ever again.
It was so sad because when I pointed out the stupid woman she sighed and said, "Yeah, I know who you're talking about."
She actually knew who she was.
Now here's where the woman's intelligence really shines through...
The manager went to the woman who was standing by our table. I made my way over there to make sure she wasn't going to steal the kids' tokens or spit in there food, or something. The manager told her that she couldn't threaten people, especially children in her restaurant. Again the woman told the manager that she couldn't tell her what to do and she wanted to give that 'little shit' what he deserved.
The manager told her that if she didn't stop yelling and cursing she would have to leave.
The ignorant woman just repeated herself that she couldn't tell her what to do, and that she needed to get the fuck out of her face.
The manager told the woman to leave and the dumb ass woman just stood there repeating herself. Finally she told the woman to leave or she would call the police.
Can you guess what she did? She repeated herself and then, to my surprise slapped the manager in the face.
I about fell over dead.
The manager handled it better than I would have. I would have had her on the floor with her neck in my hands.
She just walked away while the woman called her a bitch and a cunt and stupid.
About five minutes later the cops showed up. They handcuffed the stupid woman and dragged her out of the place while she screamed that they had no reason to take her away. One of the cops had to stay to tell her family that they had seen her hit the manager on tape and that if they wanted to see her they could call the county jail.
Her family, the intelligence must be hereditary, tried arguing with the police man in a very hostile way. The cop told them if they didn't back off he would arrest them all. When they said there were no cameras he pointed up to the ceiling and said that all the black orbs were cameras.
Everyone knows what they are, how could they not?
Anyway, after they left the kids and I redeemed their tickets and picked out a prize. On the drive home Phoenix asked me why those people were so mean. I said they were just stupid people.
When we got home Amoo and I traded horror stories about our day. I have to admit, even though I had a horrible time at CC's I still think I had it easier than she did. I'm pathologically afraid of the mall and I would rather have a tooth pulled without pain relief than watch a High School Musical movie.
Got any horror stories about your kids? Share people. But it has to be true.

Halloween

Halloween was a lot of work but it ended up being a whole lot of fun.

Amoo was a crane operator with hairy armpits and manly chest hairs.

I was the joker. With a little help from an instructional video on You Tube the make up turned out really well.
Phoenix was Anakin Skywalker. It was too warm to wear his Jedi robe but he was adorable.

Kale was superman. We sprayed his hair black and gave him blue tips. Before I added the blue he looked exactly like Phoenix. I will never understand how I got a blond child.

We went to the trunk-or-treat at Amoo's church. In spite of my disguise everyone saw me as an outsider and had to know who I was. Everyone was very nice and I even had a little battle with a six year old Batman. Kale and Phoenix had so much fun with all the little kids. I hate to admit it but I just may take them to more church functions so they can interact with other kids that speak English.

As I explained to, I think it was the primary president, I don't have any kind of animosity toward Mormon people. And it's a lot safer to take my kids around a single parking lot instead of to the drug dealer's house across the street and the gang bangers two doors down.
Amoo and I got to color the tablecloth with the boys, which I'm going to keep forever, and the kids had so much fun going around to everyone's cars.

They got so much candy that Kale's candy bucket broke under the pressure and we had to empty them out halfway through. I guess one of the church members works for a candy company and they were giving out giant hand fulls of candy. I am so not exaggerating. I would post a picture of the haul but Dakota spent the night and had half of it eaten by the time I got up this morning.

Anyway...

It was just too much fun and we all had a blast. I'm even looking foreword to it next year, even though I felt extremely uncomfortable around so many church going folk. I was terrified that they would immediately recognize me as a sinner and descend upon me with bibles and missionaries ready to save my wretched soul. Toward the end I even felt comfortable enough to help clean up the auditorium without mom.

Not that she would have shielded me from the 'choose the righters.' She still thinks me coming back to the church is possible, and while I love her for her optimism in my personality, it's just not going to happen.

I hope everyone had as much fun as we did.

Later

Costumes!!! Yay!!!

WARNING:

BEFORE READING THE FOLLOWING PLEASE NOTE THAT THE AUTHOR OF THIS BLOG IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY AND ALL ADVERSE REACTIONS TO THE CUTENESS CONTAINED HEREIN.

VIEW AT YOUR OWN RISK!

The boys have picked out there costumes and I just can't stand the cuteness!

Phoenix is going to be Anakin Skywalker. The costume is pretty basic so we got him a leather belt to hang his light saber from and we also went to the thrift store and got an old graduation robe in black. We will shorten it and sew a hood out of the scraps and he will have a Jedi robe.

I just can't handle the level of cute... I may overload.

Kale picked a superman costume that he refuses to take off unless he has to pee or take a bath, and even then we have to fight with him to get it off. We went around to four stores today with him all dressed up as his favorite super hero. Every time he walks anywhere he puts his hands out in front of him like he's flying and makes zooming sound effects.

Needless to say everyone who saw him had to tell us how cute he was. And, of course, he ate it up.

Both of their costumes need to be shortened a bit but other than that they're perfect. I'm not sure how I will get my hands on Kale's long enough to hem it up. I may have to do the midnight "Mission Impossible" thing. I wish I could drug him because that's the only way I'll be able to get it off him without waking him up.

Pray for me.

Here are the pictures.

Again... I am not responsible if you can't handle the cuteness.

My little monster from Hell.

Kale...

Oh, my son Kale...

He has added an entirely new realm of disorder to my life.

Would I want it any other way? HELL NO!

Every morning he wakes up screaming for Amoo not to leave him. He runs up the stairs, crying and stumbling, to her room and latches himself to her so she can't leave without him. If she so much as uses the toilet without him knowing he starts screaming her name and searching for her frantically.

Why does he do this?

He says he wants to use the car so he won't have to walk with me when I take Phoenix to his bus stop. Or that he wants her to take him to the store and buy him a doughnut, another valid excuse.

But, honestly, I think he wants her to stay home all day with him and make me go to work during the days. Think about it. Who's more fun? Your mom or your grandmother? It's stupid that I even have to ask.

I make him eat cereal and only allow him two sippies of chochate noute, she lets him eat gummy bears and chips for breakfast. All he has to do to get what he wants with her is to make that tea kettle noise. I've heard it all day every day since he turned one so I'm more immune than she is.

If you've met Kale, you've heard that noise. So you know that it makes your eardrums vibrate and the sound waves travel to your spine making you cringe involuntarily. That sound could be sold as a weapon to the us government.

When he does it in public we get looked at like we're the worst parents in the world. It seriously sounds like we are breaking his little fingers off one by one, or torturing his puppy. So naturally people think we are monsters who enjoy the misery and agony of an innocent three year old.

How could we?

It's Halloween time now and Kale is, all of a sudden, terrified of the decorations that turn on for this particular holiday. He used to love everything to do with Halloween. His father lets him watch Hellraiser and Nightmare on Elm Street and does it scare him? No.

He has Freddy Kruger and Pinhead masks that he plays with all year round and none of that bothers him.

But lord help us all if you try to take him to the Halloween section of any store. This year they have these little two foot dolls that rip their own heads off when you get too close. I, of course, thought he would be delighted by it. He crawled up into my arms faster than I thought was possible.

Now any time we go to any store I have to hold his hand and chant:

"We won't go to the Halloween section... they can't hurt you... I won't let them get you."

People at Albertson's and Walmart even know him and, if they can, will stand between him and the scary things. One very nice woman noticed how terrified he was and went over to the display, pulled down a doll and turned it off. She then poked it in the eye and twisted his arm to show Kale that it's just a toy.

He thought it was hilarious seeing his arch-nemesis beaten, but he still won't go anywhere near them.

If Amoo or I want anything Halloween we have to go in the middle of the night or she goes on her lunch break. All that sneaking around makes me feel almost dirty, like I should be ashamed of the black candles or the gummy eye balls I'm buying.

So sad.

Anyway...

Why is he a little monster from hell?

Well, if you've been paying attention to my words then you know why he's a monster. But why is he from hell? By his own admission.

How did that happen?

Well...

Amoo is making a bumble bee costume for the pea pod princess and yesterday she brought the wings home so we could try them out and plan what alterations need to be made. Kale was the only one small enough to try them on and while he modeled them for us started talking about how the wings were all wrong.

He says they're too girly and need feathers.

When I asked what kind of feathers he said black and red or black and green. He most certainly doesn't want white because "I'm no angel."

I then asked him, "Are you a demon?"

To which he replied, "Yes, I'm a demon from hell."

After I stopped laughing I tried to convince him that he's not from hell, but he would have none of it. He says he's a demon from hell and damn it, he means it.

Isn't he just the cutest damn thing you ever saw? I don't have the heart to tell him not to say hell because he's not cursing. He's using the word the way it should be used. Smart of him.

So maybe he will be a demon for Halloween, but I'm sure once we get to Target he will decide on Jin Jan Jones or a Clone Trooper or something like that.

Later-

Through the Fire and Flames

I have survived the 6th birthday of my oldest son Phoenix. It was an adventure and Amoo and I should get some kind of award for patience.

It all started last night. Kale was at his grandmas house for the day and Phoenix was bored. I consider it bad form to punish a child so close to a day that's supposed to be all for him, so I swallowed my anger at his behavior as best I could. Eventually, after the third or fourth hour of his whining about being bored, Amoo snapped and said if he didn't stop she was going to have to make him clean, or take a nap.

He just wouldn't shut up.

We wanted to take him to a movie to make up for the lack of entertainment his brother normally provides, but there wasn't anything good playing. Igor was but it had just started when I looked, and the next showing didn't start until well after 8 pm. The only other movie he would have been interested in was Batman, but it's rated PG-13 and I wasn't sure if it would give him nightmares or not.

We settled for a run to the store and rented movies from the Red Box. He picked out some Sonic X cartoon and I got Speed Racer and The Forbidden Kingdom. He loved all three.

When we got home I made him an arrangement of treats as though we were in a theatre. Unfortunately he ate the Almond Joy and fruit snacks before I could snap a picture of our LOAD.

Surprisingly he did not make himself sick.
The above mentioned load consisted of two kinds of potato chips, popcorn, rainbow Twizlers, Kit Kats, Almond Joys and fruit snacks. Oh and we had three kinds of soda. I drank water. I probably would have gone into a sugar coma had I went with the soda.
I had to go to work last night at 9 so Amoo stayed with him and they watched The Forbidden Kingdom. When I got home, at 1 am, he was passed out in her bed. They were both sideways and Phoenix took up 2/3 of the bed while she was huddled up at the foot of it like an obedient pet or something.
At work I had to wax the floors and because of the 2+ years of neglect they've suffered you have to do it the old fashioned way or it ends up looking like you wiped your nose on the tile. So after spending over an hour scrubbing floors I got to come home and carry my 68 pound son down to his bed. The toys littering the stairs added a bit of blind terror to an already dangerous adventure.

ADVENTURE!!!

Today when Amoo got home from church we lit the candles and sang him Hippo Birdie You You. Mom had the idea to make strawberry short cakes instead of traditional cake, and it was bloody brilliant! He loved it, and almost made himself sick on it.

So, at last count, these are the presents he got:

Indiana Jones Lego for the Wii

The Internet

Ten dollars

Three pots of play dough

A couple books

A Star Wars Clone Wars shirt and a Star Wars Force Unleashed shirt

and last but not least...

A Belly Ache!

I mean, what kids birthday would be complete if they didn't get sick from all the goodies they eat? It's just not right. Besides, I never would have learned to moderate my intake of junk foods if Mom never let me do the same. It teaches you.

Gotta go...

Later

Phoenix

So Phoenix is turning 6 on Sunday.
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday, to YOU, YOU, YOU!
Let us take this moment to give praise to the one and only master of destruction and chaos known to his intimates as Phoenix.
I have to admit he has calmed down quite a lot in the breaking things department.
REMEMBER THE GOOD TIMES............
We are at Wells Fargo and while standing in line Phoenix takes apart a counter with a light in it and is handing us the pieces. The bank teller asks if he has any tools. No, of course I wouldn't arm him with tools. He does, however have a small stuffed bear. Does that count?
We are at Albertson's picking out a coloring book and he takes the screws out of the display rack and hands you a two foot fluorescent light bulb. Again, does he have any tools? No. He just naturally senses the structural weaknesses in any object and exploits them to cause the most fun.
Phoenix spilling milk in the carpet and rather than admit it to me covers it up until the rotten smell draws me to the spot with every cleaning chemical and disinfectant known to modern man.
Phoenix peeling a huge hole in the paint next to his bed and hiding the pieces under Kale's bed, "Oh, Mom won't notice that two foot circle of bare wall," and then blaming Kale for it. If it's under his bed then he must have been the one. Even though we all know Phoenix had a compulsive need to pick at things. Amoo and I have numerous bloody spots on our feet where he gets a little carried away picking at the dead skin. If you say "ouch" and tell him to stop he does, for about three seconds, and then starts digging even harder than before.
Phoenix takeing a permanent red marker attached to a string and spining it round so violently that it sprays on the freshly painted living room walls.
Phoenix throwing all of his, and his brother's, toys on the roof and said it happened in a dream. He has no idea how any of that got up there.
Phoenix taking the full bottle of Windex and spraying the entire kitchen, without wiping any up, until he and his giggling brother can't stand up strait on the very slippery floor.
Phoenix singing... I mean WOW!
If you have ever heard that boy sing you truly know what the term anguish means. It's so cute that I don't have the heart to tell him how bad it sounds. And it is bad.
You can tell he's my son because I can't sing either. But we both seem to get pleasure out of belting out a tune, no matter how off key or off tempo we are.
Anyway...
He has learned to stop doing those things that get him in the most trouble, for the most part.
He does, however, seem to think he is much more intelligent than I am, and feels no qualms about telling me how stupid I am.
This usually happens when he's lost something and I tell him where it is. It doesn't matter if the lost item was actually where I said it was, I'm still stupid for putting it there. Because you know, I love to wear his Spiderman crocks and I just can't get enough of playing with his Bakugan.
He is a pain in the ass sometimes, but he's my pain in the ass and I love him.
A lot!
Later

After My Own Heart

Xandra has a black room.

Yes the queen of pink has moved on to the darker side of girliness, and I have to admit, it looks great.

The black background makes the bright pink jump out at you. It says "I'm a girlie girl, but don't fuck with me."

Amoo and I are trying to decide if we want to put pink skull and crossbones or paw prints on the walls. Maybe a little of both.

She just put in the new curtains two days ago and wow, they really make the room glow. I am so not joking! When the sun shines through the windows it reflects the pink light off the black walls and gives it an eerie, yet feminine aura.

Personally it creeps me out. We all know how much I love the color pink. But I think I like it more because it creeps me out. I think she likes it more for the same reason. We've never seen eye to eye on her style of anything and she loves to make me help Amoo with the latest pink atrocity taking shape in our house.

Amoo had me splatter the very tall cabinet with pink paint and I may hate the color but it just goes so well in the room. The cabinet, by the way, was made in Denver over 100 years ago. I originally painted it black and had it in my room, but it was too large and was covering too much of my pretty walls. Plus it was screaming to go in her room.

Mom really has a knack for this. If we had the money I would start an interior decorating business with her as the designer and me as the grunt who does all the work. She obviously loves doing it and the kids get such a kick out of her ideas.

Later

The Famed Jackass is Back.

If you haven't already noticed, I'm back from my vacation. Where did I go? Away from the Internet. While I have to say it was easy not having to worry about creating new blogs all the time and making sure I read the ones I subscribe to, I have to admit I missed it.
I'm fully prepared to admit my addiction to the Internet, though I am in no way admitting it's a problem. Who ever said addiction was a problem? An idiot, that's who.
So yes, I'm back and already I've screwed up a few things.
First I lost my blog spot, again. Then wrote a scandalous blog on my my space page about it. Then, of course, as soon as I posted it I found my blog spot again.
Say it with me: dumb ass!
I want to change the layout of this blog spot, but I can't figure out how it works. I don't think it works like my space or I would have done it already.
Again: dumb ass!
I also may have earned the wrath of a deity. Anyone reading this should know of Tobi, the goddess of complications and contagion. (For more info, see my my space page and the newest blog on said page)
I ridiculed her for initiating my need to blog. For spreading the addiction and not helping me scratch the itch.
Again: DUMB ASS!
After posting said blog I went back and added an apology to the goddess in hopes she will grant me a swift death instead of the blinding with hot pokers and disembowelment she will no doubt crave when she learns of my impertinence.
Whenever I do something stupid like that I hear the sound of a braying donkey in my head. I've been hearing that sound every few minutes for the past day and a half.
So, yeah. While I missed the Internet it can be such a pain in the ass sometimes.
I must go.
The goddess has decreed many new blogs on several subjects before I am granted a reprieve, and she hasn't even learned of my mistake that will lead to my death yet.
Don't smite me!
Later.

Hey! What about me?

Kale has informed me that I must write a blog about him. I already planned on it, but he wants it done now.

Last night we went to the store to pick up Phoenix's prescriptions. Kale must think he is in control of everyone else in the world because he wouldn't shut up. While we were walking down the aisles he would hold out his hand at the oncoming traffic and say, "excuse me, excuse me, get out of the way."

I, of course, was mortified that he would say such things to complete strangers and tried getting him to stop. In a way he did. He stopped directing traffic and instead started telling everyone he saw about his skills with the Wii.

"Lady. Lady! I'm good at bowling, you know it?"

or

"Hey! I learned to golf at home, and I'm really good at it. You know it?"

I swear he would not shut up. But I didn't have the heart to stop him because it was so freaking cute! He just thinks that everyone should stop what they're doing and pay attention to what he's trying to say. And a lot of the time, they do.

For there is no human on this earth who can resist the cuteness of the mighty Kale. Many have tried and all have failed. He's not as cute as Cora, for there is no such creature, but people tend to react the same to him as they do to her.

Oh, your so cute! Can I get you some candy or buy you a toy? I think they know how cute they are and use it as a weapon against us lesser mortals who are powerless to resist such adorableness.

I really think the government will find out about the cuteness we harbor and research this power as a possible weapon.

Who needs biochemical weapons when you can stun and entrance the enemy with a cute little girl in her squeaky shoes and fairy wings?

Or imagine a battlefield. Guns firing on both sides. Smoke everywhere, men cursing the enemy. All of a sudden a three year old boy jumps in front of them and starts talking:

"I got two Freddy Kruger masks and a Leather Face mask and Daddy let me watch Pinhead, you know it? You have a gun, I have a gun I got two super six shooters and a laser gun. Phoenix has the Tommy twenty but he lets me play with it. You got light sabers? I got a force action light saber. It pushes out like 'whooaaa!' when you push the button. And I can do special moves like 'haaa! chow! whatchaaaa!' Phoenix is better at it but he teaches me how to use the force. And we learned to sneak from mommy, you know it?"

He will keep talking about everything and nothing until the enemy just decides it would be easier to surrender. Anything to get him to shut up.

If it were Cora she would have each man carrying a pair of shoes, in case she needs to change the ones she's wearing, and the ones not carrying her shoes will be dotting on her every whim. One will fetch her juice while the other seeks out the episode of Little Einsteins that has Catcheye.

They won't know what hit them.

My poor boy.

Phoenix is sick again.

The poor little guy. He's had the worst year for illnesses. And why?

Kindergarten!

All those kids just love to share their germs with everyone and they always seem to hit Phoenix the hardest.

His allergies screw with his asthma and his asthma makes his allergies worse. When they work together like that he gets an ear infection. He's had two in the past four months and if he gets another one the doctors want to tube both his ears.

This is not good for him. The summer is just starting and Phoenix lives in water when it's hot. Any restrictions put on that part of his recreation will make him very unhappy.

At least his ears don't hurt yet. Yes I did just knock on wood.

He's just got a bad cough and a fever. I gave him some cough medicine his doctor prescribed. It has codeine in it and he hates the taste.

I took a sip to prove to him that it wasn't poison. It took every ounce of willpower I have to keep from spitting it out. I even had to keep my face strait and pushed out a 'yummy' in an attempt to show him how good it was.

After forcing it down he said he would rather lick the toilet than take any more of that medicine.

The good thing is it works. About half an hour after he took it he came to me and said he felt a lot better. I looked at his glossy eyes and vacant expression and realized he was stoned. Hey, at least his head and throat don't hurt anymore.

It's kind of sad though to see him floating around the house with that funny look on his face. Every time I look at him I hear that Bob Marley song in my head:

"Don't worry... about a thing... cause every little thing... is gonna be alright."

Poor little man. It feels so wrong to have my five year old taking opiates every four hours.

We have discovered one other thing that makes him feel better.

Guitar hero III.

I thought it was May.

What the hell is up with the weather?

I could have sworn it was the first day of May. Did I miss something? I know living in Colorado for so long should keep me from being surprised about anything that Mother Nature throws at us, but I am.

Today it's snowing, and not just a little bit. The snow flakes look like cotton balls and are almost as large. Yesterday was so hot I was sure none of the snow would stay on the ground, but we've already got an inch on the grass. And it's still pounding down fast.

Oh well, at least it's not hot.

The Table That Should Have Been Mine.

Turns out I still have Internet today so I'll add as much as I can.

Amoo has done something evil! She took the dining room table and painted it red to match the stars in the kitchen. The color on the outside of the can seemed to match. Then we opened it.

Holly shite! It wasn't the rusty red that the label showed. It was bright red! Like I just opened a vein and bled all over the table red. Like the lipstick on a Saigon whore red.

We thought it would be like any other paint and just dry a darker shade so we kept on painting.

Apparently rustoleum paint is different. It dried the same shade it was when we put it on. And it's glossy so it really looks like lipstick or nail polish.

In case you don't know this is what my room looks like.

I want the table and chairs. They want to be in my room, they need to be in my room. I must have them.

Don't you think so too? I even have a black table cloth that is round and has spider web shapes in the lace. It belongs in my room.

But she won't let me have them, the evil witch. She loves the color it turned out, even if it doesn't match the kitchen, and she's determined to keep them.

Damn you woman!

I miss you already...

This may be my last blog for quite some time so I'm just gonna trow a bunch of stuff in.

First of all, the rant:



Joshua David! Damn you to hell! And I don't mean the happy hell where you are made to feel bad for what you did for eternity. I'm talking about the hell where you are forced to have a pineapple shoved up your ass by a grinning Satan at tea time every day for the rest of eternity.

Why in the hell you think it's okay to run up all kinds of bills at your mother's house and then leave her to pay them, I will never understand. I don't think you're having to go without the Internet, or fast food, or every new movie that comes out to blue ray, even if it sucks.

So while you are having fun I hope you get what you deserve.

I am a firm believer in karma.

I don't have to do anything to you. God, Mother Nature, Budda, or whoever runs this existence will give you the shaft you ass. If you listen carefully you will hear the cocking of the 'fuck you Josh' gun.

Hope you suffer.



Now to the cat.

There is this stupid stray cat that has decided it lives at my house. Ever since we put in the cat door we've had strays coming in to feast on the cans of shredded cat food that our snobby cats must have on a daily basis. Usually they are afraid of people and run away whenever we come near.

This one is not a stray. I think it belonged to a neighbor who moved out and left their animal to fend for itself, which pisses me off. It has decided that we are it's new family. I call it moocher, he's a boy. He comes in and lays on Amoo's bed as though he belongs there. You can even sit next to him and he just looks at you as though he's saying, 'hey, I'm trying to sleep here.'

Or he likes to lay on our back porch, right in the doorway, so that you have to step over him to get in or out of the house. I can yell at him and he doesn't even bat an eyelash. So, I guess we have a new cat.



I can't remember what else I wanted to rant about so I'll just leave it at that.



Later...



Oh, and I hate you Josh!

I'm gonna get it.

She's going to kill me for this, but I took some pictures of Xandra while she was asleep in the back of the car. She had just spent the night at one of her friends' house for a birthday party. They had stayed up til 3 or 4 am and she was tired but I wanted pictures of her neon pink hair and the shorter cut for posterity.

So at the risk of being persecuted for catching her unawares I give you:

Xandra!

Phoenix's Tooth

A rare and spectacular event has occurred:

Phoenix lost his first tooth! That may seem a little anti-climactic but it's a very big deal to him. At first he was happy that it was out, then he saw the blood and freaked out. As you can see by the picture he thought I had tried to kill him and that he would perish in his sleep from blood loss.

Kale, of course, grabbed some pliers while I was trying to calm Phoenix down and began his tooth extraction. Thankfully they were plastic toy pliers, I've learned not to leave the tools down where the boys can get them, and he neither made progress nor caused damage.

This morning Phoenix checked under his pillow and found his tooth was missing out of the pouch and was replaced with a dollar. He sprung out of his bed, at three am, to wake me up and tell me he was rich!

After getting him back to sleep I was exhausted. I spent the whole night waiting for them both to fall asleep so I could make the old switcheroo. Phoenix, however, developed super spider sense, due to the imminent arrival of a real fairy, and woke up every time I tried to sneak in or even if Kale farted. So, rather like a scene from mission impossible, I was forced to army crawl to his bedside, pausing at every creak and whisper of sound.

I snuck my hand beneath his pillow in torturous millimeter increments, which seemed to take an hour. I made the switch and put the bag back under his pillow. When I almost had my hand away from his bed I heard a delighted childish laugh... and froze!

I've never been so terrified in my entire life. I thought for sure Kale was awake and would tell Phoenix who had made the switch. Like a deer caught in the headlights of a speeding truck I couldn't move until he laughed again and said something like, "my cookie is wet." I turned to see that he was still asleep and having some kind of pleasant dream about cookies or something.

With my heart beating frantically I made my way back to my room and collapsed on my bed.

It's hard work being the tooth fairy.

The Amoo Tree

I have found it!

There is a tree growing in front of a house across the street from Phoenix's school. Is it not just the perfect color for mom? I want to get one for her for mother's day, but I don't know what kind of tree it is.

Throw me a fricken bone here.

If you know please leave a comment.

In the picture the flowers haven't bloomed yet, but I think they will look like the white and red flowers in the second picture of this post. The second plant is the tree we both want around the perimeter of our backyard. It could be jasmine, it smells heavenly, but I can't get a close enough look on the nursery web sites so I'm not sure.

Help me, I am retarded.

My hair is ugly!

I had to dye my hair black to cover the blue-green because I have a job interview tonight. It's ugly and I hate it!

Why can't I get a job where they don't care if I have tattoos and blue hair.

Imajica

I'm reading this book, for the fourth time, called Imajica by Clive Barker. It's a work of genius and a perfect piece of art.
Can you tell I like it?
Here's just one of the parts that I really love:
Page# 539
"Remember that everything you learn is already a part of you, even to the Godhead Itself. Study nothing except in the knowledge that you already knew it. Worship nothing except in adoration of your true self. And fear nothing except in the certainty that you are your enemy's begetter and its only hope of healing. For everything that does evil is in pain. Will you remember those things?"
This book is full of profound statements and though I just finnished reading it I can't put it down, so I started all over.
I love it.

My son Kale.

He's done it again!
This morning while I was working on a new blog for my old site my son's called me away to make them something to drink and find them something to watch on T.V.
While I was convienently distracted my youngest son Kale came and played on the computer. He had lots of fun and, in his own words, "Did a lot of damage."
A thousand clicks of the mouse later he blocked off all access I had to my blogspot.
This is why I've had to create this new one.
Sorry.