I try to link up with the Whispering Writer on Tuesday for Hey It's Ok, Tuesdays. Today I am particularly pissed about things. So my Hey It's Okay, is all about being okay with being pissed! So for the angry rant... here goes and my apologies!
---------------------------
Hey It's Ok....
To be pissed that some jackass pulled into my driveway to make a U-turn and hit my husband's parked car.
To be pissed that they pulled away without even ding-dong ditching us. What they did do was leave a flatten tire and red paint on our white car. Thanks, Asshole!
To be pissed that several of my daughter's high school teachers are quite crappy, and incompetent at best. At worst, lazy and underperforming.
To be pissed that my son's 5th grade teacher believes that handouts are the way to teach EVERYTHING. He came home with a handout on eczema and another on amoebas. Really?
To be pissed that I can't get a job teaching here (Germany) because the same teachers mentioned above are tenured in those positions.
To be pissed at myself because I don't know if I want to continue doing what I am doing, which is working at a local pub or actually get a full-time job doing something else. What else? I have no idea.
To be pissed that after months of a deployment my husband's commander isn't going to approve block leave. (Basically it's vacation time for all non-military readers.) Thanks, MAJ BF! (oh and BF doesn't stand for Best Friend.)
To have bought lamps for my bedroom and my living room on Friday, and I still haven't put them together. They are sitting in my living room in the box they came in.
To be pissed that I didn't know Snooki was pregnant. Don't we need a license to procreate? We need one for just about everything else? (Sarcasm- for those who think I would want the government to interfere in procreation.)
To be pissed that I can't vote in the primaries, and my absentee ballot for the presidential election will more than likely not be counted. Let's not even speak of the choices in candidates we have so far. I would rather tunnel to the center of the Earth.... with a spork.
To be pissed that I am always a day late on these Hey It's Ok Tuesdays!
To be pissed that I am pissed.
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The crazy confessions and mishaps of a perfectly flawed mother and military wife living the dream.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Bullet Stopping Blubber
You may or may not remember that I started working out in January. It's going great! Thanks for asking. I've recently joined Weight Watchers, and I have lost 6 pounds on it in the last two weeks. Not to mention that my P90X-Insanity hybrid workout is putting a hurtin' on me. I'm usually pretty damned tired when I am done.
My kids have been pretty oblivious to the whole thing. I work out when they are in school and generally don't bother them with the details of my workout. I don't always need the brutal honesty that comes from the mouth of babes. Apparently I get it whether I wanted it or not.
Yesterday Bear comes home from school and we are sitting at the desk chit-chatting. He is telling me about his "boring" day at school, and I'm cracking smart ass comments about his Handout Queen teacher. Sounds like a little bonding? Nice pleasant conversation? Sweet.
Yea. Right.
All of sudden he turns and grabs my "love handles" and starts pinching and twisting. The cutesy conversation took a detour that I didn't see coming. It was downhill from there. The rest went something like this:
"Can you feel that?"
"Umm yea I can feel it, but it doesn't hurt."
He starts doing it harder.
"Dude. What the hell? Are you trying to hurt me?"
"It's blubber Mom. Blubber. Blubber. Blubber"
"Thanks Bear."
"I bet you could stop a bullet with this blubber."
"Your ass better hope I don't have to today you little shit!"
Incredulous, "What??!!??"
Really? Same kid who this morning wanted to make sure I got Ms. Jill to help me make his birthday cupcakes for Friday.
"I think I can handle 25 cupcakes, Bear."
"Ms. Jill makes good cupcakes."
Great. Epic fail at losing weight. Epic epic fail at making cupcakes.
I think I'm going to start rationing his words for the day.
*like it when you read....love it when you comment!*
My kids have been pretty oblivious to the whole thing. I work out when they are in school and generally don't bother them with the details of my workout. I don't always need the brutal honesty that comes from the mouth of babes. Apparently I get it whether I wanted it or not.
Yesterday Bear comes home from school and we are sitting at the desk chit-chatting. He is telling me about his "boring" day at school, and I'm cracking smart ass comments about his Handout Queen teacher. Sounds like a little bonding? Nice pleasant conversation? Sweet.
Yea. Right.
All of sudden he turns and grabs my "love handles" and starts pinching and twisting. The cutesy conversation took a detour that I didn't see coming. It was downhill from there. The rest went something like this:
"Can you feel that?"
"Umm yea I can feel it, but it doesn't hurt."
He starts doing it harder.
"Dude. What the hell? Are you trying to hurt me?"
"It's blubber Mom. Blubber. Blubber. Blubber"
"Thanks Bear."
"I bet you could stop a bullet with this blubber."
"Your ass better hope I don't have to today you little shit!"
Incredulous, "What??!!??"
Really? Same kid who this morning wanted to make sure I got Ms. Jill to help me make his birthday cupcakes for Friday.
"I think I can handle 25 cupcakes, Bear."
"Ms. Jill makes good cupcakes."
Great. Epic fail at losing weight. Epic epic fail at making cupcakes.
I think I'm going to start rationing his words for the day.
*like it when you read....love it when you comment!*
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