What I really want to say Wednesdays

So a fellow blogger, The Whispering Writer, has a piece she does every Tuesday called "Hey it's ok". Once upon a time, when I had time, I would write a post that I could share with the "Hey it's ok" theme.

As of late, I find myself swamped with a new part-time job, which requires lots of take home work, i.e. grading. Add to that a Boy Scout Troop in full Christmas tree sales and getting ready for Klondike...and, and, and... I don't have the time to write on Tuesday, or any other day.

But I love my blog. More importantly I like the fact that I can get it out there and someone might read it and find humor in it.  Or empathy. Or the need for a straight jacket. It's all the same.

Despite my lack of time to write, I am not at a loss for topics and things I would LOVE to share on my lil' o' blog. What I mostly want to share is all the crap that I keep bottled up. Shit I don't say but would love to just blurt out. Inappropriate comments, rants, and just straight up truths that would blow most people away.

Oh wait! Why can't I say these things on my blog? It's my damn blog, right? And the world is ending in like 16 days according to the crazy ass Mayans, right?

So here it is. The premiere of:   "What I really want to say Wednesdays".

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         When we were in school, and still now, we tell kids "There is no such thing as a stupid question." Well that is true when they are in elementary school, and it might be true sometimes on occasion in middle school, but high school... different story. There are stupid questions. When they ask those dumb questions I just want to say: "Did you really just ask that? Seriously?" Today's example: "Do I have to take notes?" What I actually said: "I would advise you taking notes unless you have a really good memory, and that is a whole lot to remember." What I wanted to say: "Of course you should take notes! How the hell else are you going to study? It's not like you bring the book home with you." See that was a stupid question.

         I volunteer for my son's scout troop. I coordinate their activities and collect money and such. It isn't a hard job, it's just incredibly time consuming. Last night I had a parent who wanted a "back briefing" of all that he had missed. I asked if he was getting my emails, which I send out with all the information. He answered: "I have pages and pages of emails that I have not had a chance to check. So I will probably not get around to looking at those." Ummm... ok. I asked if there was a work email that I could send it to that might be easier to check on a more regular basis. Answer: "No. I don't want to get my roles confused." Da' Fuck? Really? Ok. So I asked if he or his scout were connected to our Facebook page. Answer: "Not really a Facebook guy, and the boys don't get on often enough because they are usually in trouble for something."  What I said at this point was:"Ok well let's see how we can get you up to speed." What I wanted to say was: "Hello asshole! I have offered at least 4 different modes of communication, all of which you turned down! What part of 'this is a volunteer position' is difficult to process? Maybe I can send up smoke signals. How does that sound?" Didn't say it. Instead I just sat there and answered the 50 fucktillion questions he had. Did I forget to mention he wasn't the only parent who needed something that night? Fucktard.  *sigh*

       To all the Army officers who have no idea how to truly lead and make what should be an easy existence in a very small elite Army unit, I living hell, my thought for you is YOU SUCK! I hate playing the grip and grin game of niceties. I hate having to pretend I like you and that you don't make my husband's evening a rant session about whatta douche you are. I hate the fact that you make people wish they were stationed in Iraq instead of being here. I just want to scream: "You're an ASSHOLE! And I hope Santa shits down your chimney this year!" Instead I am relegated to "Hello Sir. How's it going? Oh Merry Christmas to you too, sir! So lovely to see you again." BARF!

Yea.... that is What I really want to say.....

Thank You Baby Jesus for giving me a head-mouth filter that works when I need it to. Amen.
       

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Hey It's Ok to be Pissed, Tuesday

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!

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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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Bright Ideas

New Year's and the damn resolutions. Who's idea is that anyways? Overzealous people trying to make the whole world miserable. 

This year I joined a new bandwagon. I decided that I wasn't resolving to get fit, but instead resolving to change my lifestyle. Sounds so deep and introspective doesn't it? It was. Let's just see how long it lasts. 

My friend Jill and I decided that with all the time we had on our hands, and I don't mean a few hours but Desperate Housewives amount of time, that we should make good use of our time and train for a triathlon. Jill was a tri vet, and I was willing to try. Together we would be great motivation for each other. Right? It's comical more than anything, and most days we are like Mutt & Jeff. 

Regardless, we have been pretty steady at working out since January. However, we have not really done the whole change the way you eat part. We have been absolutely HORRID about what we shovel in, shovel being the operative word here. Often times leaving the gym to sit and eat at Chili's. 

Don't judge. It's not our fault. Who in the hell puts a Chili's across the parking lot from a gym? It was either Chili's or Popeye's. I think we made a pretty damn good choice given our options. (Well we thought we were making the better choice.) We always went in with good intentions, and 9 times out of 10 we ordered salads. Awesome! 

Except, we weren't seeing any results. 

So I was talking to my BFF back in the states and she mentioned having recently lost 32 pounds with Weight Watchers. Yup, the light bulb went off in my brain. I thought 'hell that is what I need!' I need to monitor what I eat, count some points, rack up the weight loss. Yeah! That's it!

So I joined Weight Watchers online. Then I looked into the salads we have been ordering at Chili's, just for shits and giggles. I can't remember what came first: the shits or the giggles. 

Quesadilla Explosion salad from Chili's: 906 calories. 

Who the f*ck can pack that many calories into a damned salad? Only a chain restaurant. And why call it a salad? Why not call it "Whole day's caloric intake Bowl"? Yea not so catchy. 

I don't think I could have picked a more crappy salad to order at Chili's, it they had disclosed the caloric intake. I feel like a dumb ass! The damned burgers have less calories!

Chili's you broke my heart. 

And the bright ideas just kept on coming... We didn't stop with Weight Watchers. We decided we needed to up our game. Really get into losing weight. We were gonna do this! YEAH!

There I was looking on the internet for ways to shed pounds and potentially kill ourselves. Found it! A P90X-Insanity Hybrid Workout. Heard of P90X but not so sure about Insanity? Look at the name they gave it, it says it all. Lucky, or unlucky for me, we have both sets of DVDs in my home. 

Yea, we started that on Monday. All I can say is HOLY HELL! I am so sore from Day 1 of P90X and Day 2 of Insanity. I am so sore that typing feels like a cardio workout for my arms. 

Tomorrow is Day 3 and we will see how that goes. I believe we are working back and arms. I'm going to "Give it my best and forget the rest" and "Dig Deep". Let's see what other bright ideas I come up with. I am praying my light bulb stays dim, and no more a-ha revelations. Not sure my body can handle it. 

Thanks for the cheap chocolates

Yes, it's Valentine's Day. A Day for roses, chocolates, big massive balloons that are shaped like DSLs (check out Urban Dictionary if you don't know what DSLs are), and other stupid heart shaped crap. A day, during one of the crappiest months of the year, where you can wear head-to-toe pink or red, and not feel like a used tampon.

Don't get me wrong. I have love in my life. I am in a committed, happy marriage to a man I consider my best friend. I have two great children whom I love and for the most part love me back. Its just that I get so pissy with all the commercialization of holidays and V-Day is the worst. The flowers, balloons, chocolate hearts with messages inside the foils, and the nasty little candy hearts that make your teeth feel like you bit into styrofoam. All of it is a ploy to get you to spend money just a few short weeks after you blew your Christmas wad.

Again, it sounds bitter, and I am not. I just think that maybe flowers on any other day speaks louder than flowers on February 14th. Those are the flowers that truly say I love you every day for all the little things you do. The flowers on February 14th say to me "shit, if I don't get you anything on Valentine's Day, I'm THAT shit bag husband!"

Chocolates when you come home from a business trip. Yummy! That screams "I missed you and I'm happy the kids are still alive and you're not in a psych ward." Chocolates on Valentine's Day mumble sweet nothings, emphasis on the nothings.

I just sometimes wish holidays were more about the meaning and less about the show. Show me you love me everyday and not just one day of the year because Hallmark and American Greeetings reminds you to. Just sayin....



oooohhhhh....someone on another blog said it best.... I have CHEAP chocolate to look forward to tomorrow! YES!


What are your feelings about Valentine's Day?






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Here's to...

I learned today that if you let what seems like an average cold go too long, it turns into pneumonia.

Yup. I got pneumonia.

The ironic part is that we planned a girls night out tomorrow, and this girl is forced to stay in. Are the gods conspiring against me? Uggh... 

Here's to 875mg of a horse pill to knock out this infection.

Here's to shortness of breath and feeling like every step is a chore.

Here's to a clogged ear that is collecting fluid and will not Valsalva.

Here's to lung lobe with fluid in it.

Here's to a hacking cough that sounds deadly.

Here's to a hubby far far away and no one to pamper Mom when I'm sick.

Here's to the shitty business of being sick...alone.

Bah Humbug and it ain't Christmas!

Thank You Very Much

Kmama over at The Daily Dribbles has a section titled Thank You Very Much where she sarcastically thanks the things that have pissed her off. Since I am having a craptabulous week (yea, I know its only Tuesday) I thought I would share in her thanksgiving spirit. So here it goes...


To the Proctologist Drivers (you know who you are) I appreciate the fact that your schedule is always more important than everyone else's, but riding my ass down a two lane highway isn't going to encourage me to go faster. I will go as fast or as slow as I want regardless of your proximity to my rear, Thank You Very Much!


To my wonderful, loving body. We have been working hard at exercising, eating great healthy foods, drinking plenty of water and making sure to get at least 6 hrs of sleep a night. How do you repay me? You pick up one of the worst head & chest colds ever. Thank You Very Much!




To the Internal Revenue Service and the ghosts of Congresses past, a hearty Thank You Very Much for making the tax code so g-damned difficult it requires a PhD (Piled higher and Deeper) to file your taxes. I have received a piece of tax information in the mail everyday since January 25 and I am afraid I am still not done. And you wonder why people wait until the very last minute to file? It takes MONTHS to get all the damned paperwork! The tax code is so difficult in order to keep more assholes in a job! Thanks again!


To Intellectual Property and Broadcasting laws/lawyers all around the globe, Thank You Very Much! I truly get and understand the ideals and principals behind intellectual property, and I support it. However, as an American living abroad, I am missing out on shows, news and other media information simply because I don't have a stateside IP. I wasn't feeling isolated enough, now throw in some copyright laws, and GEMA (whoever the hell that is), and I can't see a damned thing online. Watched the SuperBowl online through NBC, but they cut out the commercials and half-time show. Really? A double thanks for that!



I am sure there is plenty more to be grateful about, but its only Tuesday. I should save some venom for the rest of the week! ;)

Banning the word "sure"

In my house we don't use the word whatever. It's rude, dismissive, and shows complete indifference towards the person and the matter being discussed. It is basically the nicest way to tell someone to f*ck off without that foulness of using the F-word. For the obvious reasons, I don't let my kids use whatever  when speaking. (They can't use the F-word either, in case you were wondering.)

I have smart kids though.

In the game of words they have found the perfect pinch hitter that subs in quite nicely for whatever. 


Sure.

Now you might be thinking its a stretch. But the manner in which my 10 year and 16 year employ sure make it a half-sister to whatever.



For example:
(Notice that whatever could be interchanged in these examples.)
 
 Mom: "Do you want meat loaf for dinner?"
 Bear:  "Sure."
 Mom: "Would you rather have chicken?"
 Bear:  "Sure."
 Mom: "What about shit-kabobs?"
 Bear: "Sure. Wait, what?"
 Mom: "That's what I thought."


 Mom: "Princess, you have laundry to get done. Are you going to do it?"
 Princess: "Sure, Mom."
 Mom" "Gonna clean your room and your bathroom, too?
 Princess: "Sure, Mom."


Seems like I am nit picking? Maybe a little bit. However, when every time I want to get their opinion on something I have to think about the question and phrase it properly so that there is no way to elicit a sure response, word-smithing can be exhausting.

The word doesn't get to me as much as the dismissive attitude behind it.

But that's just kids being kids, right?



Don't say sure. 

Rearing Ugliness

Rough afternoon with Bear yesterday. He accused me of never having such an intense interest in his "school stuff" before this year. He told me that my "nose was always in his business".  He implied it was because I'm not working.  He also told me that he only goes to Scouts because I will make him feel guilty if he doesn't. Really? WTF??? I wish I could say that I am angry, but I am more heart broken than anything. I pride myself in being a good mommy! Maybe not 100% of the time, but 95% is still an A. And after all that I been through with Bear and all that we have worked to achieve it was a slap in the face. Yea so let's see....

1. You were no walk in the park Bear! Your success now is largely dependent on all the hard work we put in those first 8 years. Yea and I was present for those as well!

2. My nose wouldn't have to be in Bear's business if he wasn't constantly misplacing homework. He did a book report on Monday that wasn't due until Wednesday. GREAT JOB! He was supposed to turn it in on Tuesday. Monday night the book report goes into the backpack. Tuesday afternoon- it's been stolen. REALLY? Who want to steal a book report Bear??? Those people that don't like him! OMG! More drama than on TNT!  So now we are back to re-doing the book report. Lovely. As if it wasn't agony the first time he worked on it. Let's go for round 2 of that heavyweight fight.

3. Scouts is for me? Since when? I mean don't get me wrong, I love the fact that he is in Scouts but I get nothing out of it other than pride at seeing him accomplish something. That and he looks adorable in his uniform and the outings here in Europe are pretty badass. We went to Bastogne for crying out loud!. I just want him to have something that he can be proud of and carry it with him. Needless to say that he has been in Scouts since 1st grade. Seriously, he could have abandoned it when we got here to Germany but instead we found a Pack and got quite a bit accomplished. He will be receiving his Arrow of Light which is the highest achievement you can receive in Cub Scouts. But somehow that is inspired by guilt....sheeesshhhh DRAAAMMMAA KING!

4. He should be grateful that I am actively involved. Many parents don't give two craps about their kids. I know... I taught many a child who's parents were absent, AT BEST.  My parents never toted me around to Scouts, swim lessons, movies, and whatever else I wanted to do. My parents did NOT give me a gaming system, hell I didn't have my own radio until I was 15. Ugghh... to be so lucky as to have parents who want to be parents!

5. He complained in 3rd and 4th grade because I had to work and couldn't be like the other moms (SAHMs) who go on field trips and bake cupcakes. Guess what buddy? I am that mom now and you don't want her now! Make up your mind.


So how did I resolve the issue? I do what I always do....got angry, cried, and told him that I couldn't care more about school then he did. That I couldn't care about scouts more than he did. That if he didn't want it so be it. He responded with "you said I couldn't still live here and drop out of school". WTF? Oh yea...he wants to drop out of school. He hates it that much. He has begged me to home school him. But he doesn't know that I would fail us both in math! :(


So today I resolved to make him finish what he started. No easy way out for you Buster Bear! You are finishing Cub Scouts and you'll get it completed, if it kills me. And it just might...

How does one raise a wanna be Drama King Drop Out Boy?


HELP!!!!!