For A Change, Dumb Ass.

I'm on time for a change! What miracle be this?


I forgot something in last weeks CF, so I figured I would start with the doozy Kale layed on me.


Phoenix and Kale were chasing each other through the basement, big shocker right?


I was searching Amoo's DVD collection for a movie, which is no easy task. I'm sorry to fall off subject but I hate that she never, never, NEVER, puts the discs back in the correct case! I go to put back Twilight and in the case I find the Lord Of The Rings, I go to put that one back and I find Serenity! And it never ends! By the time I get to the point where all the movies are in the correct cases I will have forgotten what the hell I was looking for in the first place. It's rubbing off on the kids too!


Sorry for the brief rant but it's just one of those things that bugs the crap, (see woman I didn't swear,) out of me.


Anyway...


Phoenix chased Kale up the stairs and a few seconds later he let out the 'Come Mommy' howl. You know the one that says, "Something is TERRIBLY wrong, so come quick!" I shot up the stairs like a bolt of lightning, thinking that someone was hurt, into complete bedlam. I was literally struck dumb for a few seconds by what I was seeing.


For some reason, which is only clear to a four year old, Kale grabbed a half full gallon of white paint on his way up the stairs and bashed it open on the back porch. Then he smeared it all around with his hands while running through it like a chicken with it's head cut off. When I found my voice I asked him why he had the paint in the first place and he said, I kid you not, these were his exact words, "I didn't do anything! Phoenix is trying to blame it all on me!"


The fact that he was covered in paint and his brother had not a drop on him must not have factored into his equation. I was so mad and screamed at him like a shrew for a few minutes. I hosed him and the porch down then put him in the bath.


My camera was lost last week so I didn't get pictures at the time, but the latex paint will probably never come off unless we use a sand blaster.

So Wednesday night I got home from work, walked into my room and found a baby bird in the middle of my floor. I thought it was dead until I went to pick it up, to take it to the trash outside, and it opened it's mouth. The poor thing was bloody and couldn't move at all. I could tell it's neck was broken and it was just suffering so I did something I hate my cats for, I put it out of it's misery.

This was not a regular little bird. It was as long as my hand, had very long legs and a long, pointy beak. I washed my hands and went to bed, which means I read for about two hours while waiting to get drowsy enough to achieve the coveted sleep. I think it was about 1 am when I finally drifted off.

At 3:14 am I heard a sound like a car alarm go off in my room. I shot out of bed, startled out of a dead sleep to find Memnock dropping another baby bird in my bed at my feat. It was the same kind of bird only this one wasn't mutilated yet, just squawking loudly in it's terror.

I shooed the cat away and put the poor baby in a box with an old flannel sheet to keep it warm. I had to lock it in the bathroom because the cats wanted their bird back. I mean they really wanted it back, like a lot. Both Memnock and River stood at the door all night meowing and trying to get their paws under the door.

I couldn't sleep at first because I had to wait for the adrenalin to wear off, then I couldn't sleep because of the racket my cats were making. I think I got about an hour of sleep before Amoo woke me up to take Phoenix to school.

As soon as I was up I called animal control. They assured me they would be at my house within half an hour so I decided to just wait for them and drive Phoenix to school. After waiting two hours, half of that time spent waiting on hold with animal control, I find out that the operator who took my call at 7 am got EVERYTHING wrong.

He got one number in my address wrong, so they showed up at my neighbor's house and in the report it said I owned a bird who had brought in an injured cat.

Am I the only one that doesn't make sense to?

While I was on the phone with another operator the animal control officer showed up across the street to look for the injured cat again. I got his attention and brought out the bird. I tried to explain that I was the one who had called him and the operator had given him the wrong information, but he seemed to think I was wrong because he had seen an injured white cat slinking around another house.

What are the odds?

He told me he thought it was a baby Woodpecker before he stashed it in his truck. When I got back into the house I found the reason why the cats felt the need to bother me all night long. I forgot to give them a can of wet food before I left for work and when I got home I was so traumatized by the baby bird that I forgot again.

Lesson Learned: Don't screw with the cat's gravy.

I took pictures of the first bird so I could look it up on the Internet and find out what kind it was. I didn't have more than one brain cell functioning at 3 am so I forgot to take a picture of the healthy one.

Phoenix drew the two birds.

Wouldn't you think my story was over by now? If only.

After the bird was in the right hands I left to drive Phoenix to school, late. When we were about halfway there traffic came to a dead stop on Colorado Blvd. They were doing construction on the road and had all the lanes funneled down to one lane on the left. I turned right down a side street to avoid the CF of idiots trying to merge and the other idiots trying to keep them from merging in front of them.

About two blocks after I turned off the main road I came to a huge crash caused by people, high on coffee, trying to drive and think at the same time. There were only two lanes but both were blocked by the mess. I tried going down another street but it ended in a sign that said it was closed for construction.

I got lost trying to get the hell out of there and after about 15 minutes found my way back onto Colorado Blvd right before traffic merged into one lane. No one had moved much, all the same cars were still waiting in line.

I gave up. It just wasn't meant to be. I turned around and went back home.

Isn't that enough drama for one day? You'd think so, but nooooooooo.

On the way home I traded cars with Amoo because she wanted me to put some gas in Josh's car. When I got home James was in the back yard cutting the grass and Kale was riding his bike. I got to the back door and realized I had given my keys to Amoo and had Josh's keys, none of which would unlock the house. I had to lift Phoenix up on my shoulders, (by the way, he weighs 79 pounds,) so he could crawl into my bedroom window and unlock the door from the inside.

Of course, he didn't feel very secure sitting so high and kicked me in the face a couple of times in front of a laughing James while Kale ran around us yelling that he wanted to go through the window too. It was crazy weird and wow... I very much hope that I won't have to do it again.

Phoenix enjoyed a free day off of school and I slept for like three hours on the couch while he and his brother played video games and listened to I'm Blue a thousand times on You Tube.

It's just too much for one woman to bear in one day! But hey, it makes me VERY grateful for the days when life is a little smoother.

Later,

BD

Dumb Ass WEEK!

Okay, so the mother ship has informed me that I cannot use the F-word on my blog. I informed her in the most mature way I know, by placing my fingers in the shape of a W and saying 'whatever!', that I am an adult and may use any language I wish. She then told me that she is still my mother, and as such, I will have to obey her wishes on this matter or she will sit on me. She also said, 'Sometimes might does make right.'

She makes a compelling argument, so I have edited the offensive word out of this weeks post. Damned woman and her evil plot to turn me into a good and moral person. Diabolical, that one.

***************************************************************************

This entire week was one big CF. (Cluster F**k)

I burned my finger with hot glue while helping a slightly impaired Amoo put the finishing touches on Cora's Princess P3 cape. Not just a little stinger but the kind that hurts like hell if you take it out of cold water for even a few seconds. I slept with the offending appendage in a bowl of ice, woke up in a puddle, (big shocker there) and thought I had peed the bed for the first time in like 25 years.

Dumb ass.

But it was so totally worth it. I mean the cuteness cannot be contained. We need sunglasses to view this piece of princess perfection.

I took my two kids to a school carnival on Friday and spoiled them with a whole lot of candy, games, and toys. I put sunblock on both of them but forgot to spray myself.

Dumb ass.

I now have a red tint to my forehead, nose and cheeks and a very pronounced line showing where my sunglasses were shielding my face. I think it looks hideous, but it at least shows that I had enough sense to save my eyes from the sun.

I did learn that everyone in that school knows and loves Phoenix and after the first five minutes they fell under Kale's I'm-being-so-cute spell. I swear he has learned the art of party manners to a master's degree. He lulls the unsuspecting strangers into thinking he's just the most innocent thing they've ever seen. Then when they least expect it... he pounces! Usually after he shows his true personality I find the previously mentioned stranger tied up with duct tape and roasting over a fire like the camp councilors in 'Adams Family Values.'

The kids had way too much fun and I was glad, I really was. But I was so very exhausted by the time it was over. Four hours in the sun + sugared up kids + one or two hundred strangers = one very strung out mama.

I was supposed to go to work on Saturday night but Xandra was over for the first time in like two months so I decided to stay home and go on Sunday. Big dumb ass move.

Why?

I'm getting to that.

Last night I went to work...

Have you noticed that a whole lot of my dumb ass stories start with the phrase: I went to work?

Anywho.

Work was fine. I got through my cleaning with no injuries or embarrassing moments. I should have known it was too good to be true. I was in the car on the way home, just two blocks away from my driveway when Amoo called.

She had that desperate tone in her voice when she asked how far I was from being done with the work and coming home. And she sounded like she was going to burst into tears and kiss my feet when I told her I was less than three minutes from home.

I asked why she was so relieved and she said that Phoenix had thrown up on everything. He threw up on the leather couch, the bathroom, the hallway carpet and walls, Amoo, and even Kale.

When I got home he was on the other couch sipping water and had a raging fever. He threw up three more times after Amoo retreated down the stairs, with her white flag flying, and each time was traumatic.

Phoenix kept arching his back and neck when he heaved but was also trying to breathe in. I was afraid he would aspirate and that I would have to give him the Heimlich maneuver or CPR so I forced his head down into the designated vomit receptacle. He, of course, thought I was trying to kill him and as soon as he got a breath started screaming that I was hurting him and to let him breathe.

I'm rather surprised that child protection services didn't show up at my door last night or today.

Even Amoo woke up out of her deep drugidoodidy to ask if I was killing him. I got to spend the night and most of today scrubbing the house with bleach. I think I ruined the leather couch but the death of all that bacteria is sooooo worth it, true? I scrubbed so long that my muscles ache.

It was fun. No really, I can't wait to do it again.

And on that note...

Kale has a fever.

Yay me!

P.S.

While I was spell checking this post Kale came to me for loving after he hurt himself running through the house. While being hugged and getting his back rubbed he says to me, "Britt, I'm sorry I buried your ring at the big park and can't find it anymore."

I asked him what ring he buried and it turns out it was the one with the tribal type symbols on it. I've been looking and wondering what happened to that thing for months.

Life is never boring with these two.
Later
BD

Dumb Ass...Friday. Yes, I know it's Saturday. So what?

A few days ago I got maybe an hour sleep and had a busy day so didn't get a nap in. That night I took two Dramamine so I could get sleep. Normally I go to sleep around 11 pm - midnight but that stuff kicked in very quickly and as soon as I got my boys' teeth brushed and tucked them into their beds ,at 8 pm, I passed out. I even forgot to turn off my light. At four thirty the next morning I popped out of bed like a toaster strudel and couldn't go back to sleep. Go figure.
So I took a shower and shaved all the way up my legs, ooh, I'm a sexy bitch. Then I plucked my shaggy eyebrows and painted my finger and toenails. After braiding my hair I still found myself with an hour of time to kill before anyone in the house woke up. So for the first time in at least two, maybe even three months I put on make up.
Dun, dun, duuuuuuuuuunnnnn!!!
It's been a while so it took me forever to get my eyeliner strait, but eventually I got my eyes done. If you don't already know I only wear eye makeup. My lips are too thin for lipstick and I can't stand wearing base or powder on my face. I skeeves me out.
Mom almost fell over dead when she saw me.
Anyway, at the end of the day my eyes felt like they were on fire. Maybe my makeup is too old or maybe I just used too much eyeshadow and it fell into my eyes, but it hurt. I washed it off and looked at my face.
I nearly died laughing. It looked like I had two bruised eyes and the whites of my eyes were all red from the irritation.
Looked like a crack whore who was bitch slapped by her pimp for not earning enough in one night.
Good times dumb ass.

I went to Albertsons to get some groceries for Mom's mother's day breakfast. I don't know where I left my brain but it surely wasn't on me when I decided to let Phoenix have control of the shopping cart. Kale was pissed that we were at the store and not at home playing Lego Batman so he sat in the basket, placed his head on his arms and went to sleep.
Phoenix knocked over a display of Sobe drinks, big shocker there. There were two other shoppers who took pity on me and helped me put the bottles, thankfully they were plastic, back into place. They told me that this was how they learned not to let their own kids drive the cart.
So the whole time I'm picking the stuff up, and planning my son's murder, Phoenix was saying, "Man Kale why did you do that?" I told him Kale was asleep and that it was his fault but he just pointed at his slumbering brother and said he kicked it while pretending to sleep.
That's his story and he's sticking to it. It doesn't matter that I saw it happen, he says I'm wrong, damn it, wrong. I wasn't mad at him, just very embarrassed, until he was throwing a fit in the canned foods aisle and knocked over a bunch of cans of peas. I made him put every single one back with every label facing forward.
When we got home Phoenix was pissed that I was mean to him at the store so he took the bag with eggs and a pie shell in it and threw it across the kitchen. The only reason he is still alive is because he is extremely lucky. None of the eggs or the pie shell was broken. Maybe he's Irish on his dad's side.
I love going out with my boys. No really.

On Monday Phoenix woke up with a fever of 102.5 so I kept him home. Tuesday and Wednesday he had a fever as well and the school said he couldn't come back to school until 24 hours after he stopped showing symptoms. Every day I called the school to tell them he wouldn't be there they asked me what his symptoms were because of the flu going around. On Wednesday the lady asked if I was taking him to the doctor and I told her the earliest appointment I could get was on Friday so he wouldn't be in until at least Monday.
I'm not sure what she said to the school nurse but it must have been drastic because later that day I got a call from Phoenix's clinic. The nurse asked me if I was aware that the nurse from Knight Academy was calling them and trying to get privileged information about my son. I made sure that she wasn't told anything then I called the school. The school secretary sounded shocked when I told her what my clinic had told me and immediately connected me to the nurse.
I tried my hardest to be polite as possible while smoke poured out of my ears and flames shot out of my eyes. She said that her district supervisor told her to do it and that she was only following orders.
I asked her if she really was a nurse.
She said yes, she was.
I then asked her if she really was a nurse why she didn't seem to know what HIPPA was and why she thought she could get any information on my son without my written consent or a court order.
She didn't really answer that one.
I told her not to do that again and as soon as I got an answer from the doctor I would call them.
It turned out Phoenix had a cold. But even if he did have the swine flu the doctor wouldn't have treated him for it. Because it's no more life threatening than the regular flu.
Dumb ass freaking school nurse.
Later
BD

Dumb Ass Friday. Yes, on time.

Wednesday I got home from work and my world was spinning like I had spent the last several hours buried face first in a bottle of vodka. I don't know what brought it on but I couldn't stand to lie down. I tried taking a shower in an attempt to sooth my brain back to a standstill. I didn't really get anything accomplished besides slipping a few times, and who knew you could drop a bar of soap on your foot in just the right way to make it really hurt? I guess I'm that talented. Maybe next week I'll find out how to strangle myself with a Kielbasa.

Today I went to the store with my two boys, (demons) I mean angels, of course. Yeah... that's what I meant.

They rode the Penny Pony six times each and Phoenix managed to follow the cord from the bottom of the pony to an outlet behind a red box and nearly electrocuted himself while trying to unplug it in an attempt to thwart Kale's turn to ride. Where was I? Trying to convince Kale that standing up on the saddle while the thing is moving is NOT a good idea.

"But why can't I? I will look so cool!"

After assuring the good people working there that he was alright I hung my head in shame and marched us all out to the car.

It was locked and the keys were still inside. Why you ask?

Phoenix and Kale wanted to listen the rest of the song playing on the CD player while I got out and made sure I had everything I needed for the store. (When you have kids like mine you learn that anything and everything can disappear from your purse at any given time. So I have learned to check for my money and ID before I get to the checkout and make an ass of myself.)

In Kung Fu Panda master 'Whatever his name is' the turtle, tells master Shi Fu that 'We often open the path to our destiny by trying to avoid it.' Well it was something like that.

Phoenix and Kale finished listening to their song and got out of the car. I asked my eldest if he had the keys and like a good little monster he said yes, even though they were still in the ignition.

I know, I know! Dumb Ass! At least I didn't leave the damn thing running.

When we got out to the car I had to call Amoo and have her drive to the store, luckily we were less than a mile from her work, and bring me the spare keys.

I just finished watching a movie called Marley and Me. While it doesn't have much to do with me being a dumb ass it does tie into my stories for my Friday blog.

It's not really about a dog. If you have kids and a family you know it's about what real life is like. About the choices we make and even when what you choose sucks and it feels too hard, it is still your life. And when you look back on everything that is your life would you change any of it? Even the bad times?

So, yes life is hard. Yes, I am a single mother who struggles every day just to survive to the next one. Yes, my children are little terrorists in training and my house is a constant war zone complete with booby traps and a four year old's equivalent of land mines. (Those little toys hurt on the feet.) But if I could go back and change my decision to have my kids and raise them, would I?

Hell No!

Because how many people make you feel special and rare? How many times in your life will you feel like you are the most important person in the whole world? Every day when you kiss the boo boo on their toe or are thanked for making them their favorite dessert. When they wake you up way too early on a Saturday morning to give you kisses, complete with morning breath, that's when you know.

Your life will never be the same, and it can't get better than this.

P.S. I think I have PMS right now so don't expect any more mushy moments. I think I've met my quota for the year.

Later
BD