Bobby the ARC Angel...

Today, Christmas Eve, started off uneventfully.  I went to the mall as soon as it opened as I am a masochist.  Remarkably, I got what I needed, and a few things I didn't and made a hasty exit.  It was not crowded and everyone there seemed full of good cheer.  I was astounded.

I decided to ride this good tiding out and get another cup of coffee from my favorite gas station and stop in at the ARC Thrift Store by my house.  I live on the border of a fancy neighborhood and have been told that the ARC by my house has all kinds of goodies - biggest dick in China people.

Anyway, I found two really nice sweater dresses and made my way to the counter to pay.  While checking out, the clerk asked me if I wanted to donate a little more to their cause.  I said, 'sure, why not', she rang me up and then asked if I wanted to fill out a paper angel to show that I had donated.   I said 'no, thank you' and she called Bobby over.  Bobby is a young, developmentally disabled boy who works at this particular store.  The clerk said 'Bobby, you got another one' and he bounded over to her register with a smile in every ounce of his being.  He was so excited to fill out the paper angel in my stead and wished me a Merry Christmas loudly and with meaning.  I wished him the same and he said 'oh Happy New Year too'.  I gotta tell you, it took every fiber of my being not to cry right there on the spot.  I scored two dresses for twenty bucks, but damn, I scored so much more.  Bobby embodied everything beautiful there is about this season and gives me hope that we're gonna be okay after all.  Merry Christmas Bobby ~ today I am ever so grateful for you and your beautiful soul that shines out with a light that cannot be diminished.

  

First World Problems...

I was talking to one of my beautiful cousins this morning about music, which bee-tee-wubs, is one of my favorite topics.  I was telling him how I recently had to purchase a new iPod because my 120gb one shit the bed on me and he was telling me about how he lent one of his iPods to a friend and they lost it. We were both like, sigh - man that sucks. But really?  And then we laughed because surely (don't call me Shirley) there are people out there who would love to have such a problem.

And actually, there's a whole website devoted to just such problems:  http://first-world-problems.com/

So today, I'm grateful for the plethora of first world problems that I currently have.  Here's a sampling of such:

1. The heated seats on the passenger side of my 6 person, 4 door sedan are on the fritz.

2. The purple gloves I wanted to buy my daughter that match her scarf, hat, and boots, didn't come in her size.

3. The delivery of my customized digital calendar from Shutterfly is cutting it a little too close for my comfort. 

4. I'll never finish off the Costco sized box of crackers in my pantry before they go stale.

5. The sun dried tomato and herb goat cheese I got on sale went mostly uneaten.

6. The liquor store I frequent was out of my favorite pinot noir.

7. I had to take a half day off from work because the babysitter was sick.  

8. There isn't any room in the draws for all our clothes when I finally get to the bottom of the hamper.

9. I had to make two trips to the ARC donation center for all of our cast-offs.

10. My boots aren't the same shade of brown as my belt. Sigh.

Charmed life my friends, charmed life.

Santa Doobie Doo...

Remember when you were little and thought Scooby and the gang were amazeballs, because they were?  And then remember when you were a teenager and you thought Scooby and the gang were amazeballs because you realized that the good folks at Hanna Barbera must've been high as murtherfurcking kites while they were writing that shit?  Yeah, you know you watched it high while you were a teenager and had some revelations (the 3 Stooges upside down in a Cessna?), or at least some desire to eat the sandwiches that Shaggy and Scooby were throwing together.

Well today I am thankful for an alternate idea to the story of Santa Claus.  For years I have been in love with David Sedaris' story about St. Nicholas's day in Holland: 

http://www.experienceproject.com/confessions.php?cid=49902

But then, today my eye was caught by this captivating title on my newsfeed:

"Magic Mushrooms May Explain Santa & His 'Flying' Reindeer"

and it reminded me of my love of Scooby and his gang.  I won't make you read the whole article twice like I did, but I will provide a few highlights:

"As the story goes, up until a few hundred years ago these practicing shamans or priests connected to the older traditions would collectAmanita muscaria (the Holy Mushroom), dry them, and then give them as gifts on the winter solstice," Rush told LiveScience. "Because snow is usually blocking doors, there was an opening in the roof through which people entered and exited, thus the chimney story."

Why do people bring pine trees into their houses at the Winter Solstice, placing brightly colored (red and white) packages under their boughs, as gifts to show their love for each other … ?" he wrote. "It is because, underneath the pine bough is the exact location where one would find this 'Most Sacred' substance, the Amanita muscaria, in the wild."

Whoever heard of reindeer flying? I think it's becoming general knowledge that Santa is taking a 'trip' with his reindeer...

I appreciate not only an alternative to the traditional Santa story, which is fairly farfetched, but also the idea that a benevolent spiritual guide would bring edible goodies to expand yo mind.  You dig?  I dig.

Sweet Home Assabama...

Ah, the daily news (Yahoo, Facebook, Twitter, and Msnbc) provides one with much fodder, does it not?  If one is not careful, one could become filled with rage and start feeling stabby about the fidiots (fidiot=contraction=fucking idiots) who are floating around out there in the universe and on the inter webs.  Anyhoo, today my gratitude is extended to not being a teacher in Texas, Virginia or Tennessee.

Did ya know that Texas, Virginia and Tennessee are giving consideration to arming teachers?  I've been a teacher for my entire adult life and have never even considered packing a gat when going to work - packing a sandwich, or a yogurt, yes.  A firearm?  No.  The fact that I am allowed to hang out with other people's children all day is a questionable choice as it is.  Not because I'm a bad person, but I have questionable morals, find the most inappropriate things funny, and often curse.  True story.  Despite all this, in front of children, I manage to maintain an air of civility and professionalism (coupled with a true belief in their abilities, education and a love of learning) and this has worked out for me.    However, arming a person who lacks the ability to make a pot of coffee might not be wise.  If I wanted to be armed for a living, I would've become a police officer, or a revolutionary in South America - like Che Guevara, but without a motorcycle and just a little less facial hair.

It's like looking in a mirror people

Next proposal might be to make cops into teachers.  That way there's double the people who are doing things that are completely inappropriate.  I gotta tell you, I don't know any teacher that wouldn't stand in the way of their students and harms way, however, arming people who spend all day with other people's children might not be the best laid out plan.

Oh Tanenbaum...

Today I am ever so grateful that I had the wherewithal to properly put away my Christmas lights last year by chucking the ones that didn't work and neatly winding all the good ones into an easily untangled circle.  Woo Hoo!  It's a festivus miracle.

Snips and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails...

Have you met my crazy baby?  Goes by the name of Asher?  Today I'm thankful for his unflagging joy and laughter ringing throughout the house.  He's nucking futs, this kid.

Example: Today he rode a cardboard box made to look like a car down the stairs all the while making vroom vroom noises.  When he hit bottom, he laughed maniacally.  He was naked. Except for the box.

Example: He sings all day long.  Mostly made up songs.  Most recent is a little diddy we call 'Zinga' because that's what he chants to a nameless tune for hours.  Hours.  He is also a fan of singing: "I see your heiney, all white and shiny, if you don't hide it, I'm gonna bite it".  When singing, he is naked.

Example: He jumps on everything.  Couches, tables, cats, dogs.  First he counts "one, two, eight, GO". Nothing is safe.  While jumping, he is naked.

Example: He loves Dora the Explorer and asks to watch at least every 30 seconds throughout a day.  He is particularly fond of Benny the Bull.  Asher answers Dora in only Spanish (perfect pronunciation).  He watches naked.

Example: He gives bear hugs & growls while he's doing it.  Also, he says "I love you too" even if you didn't say it first.  Of course, he's naked.

Sometimes I'm a Dick...

It happens to me every year.  Thanksgiving passes quietly and happily and then Christmas gets into full swing and shit just hits the floor for me.  I find myself struggling daily to remain upbeat and imbue the Christmas spirit.  I'm short of attention, goodwill and appropriate language.  Happens every year.  Whatevs - maybe I have seasonal defective disorder or some shit.  I don't know, but thankfully something snaps me out of my reverie - is it called reverie when you feel all stabby and pms-y all the time?  So there you have it, my reasoning behind the lack of gratitude coming to you all electronically, from me.  I suck and I'm a dick - do with that what you will.

BUT, there has been some shit.  Shit outside of my realm of proximity, and shit within my sphere that has shaken me up a bit and is throwing the bitchies off my spirit.  And god damn am I grateful for all the piddly shit that trips me up and makes me feel sorry for myself (b/c it's all piddly shit).  I'm such a dick sometimes.  This week has seen the death of a good friend, and some other nonsense that has made me stabby - like I didn't like the tree my husband brought home - really?  Bitch - not only do I HAVE a tree BUT a place to put it.  Have some perspective Asshole.

Ten days left to Christmas spirit the hell out of all three of you (dear readers).  I will bring this shit down.  10 DAYS of gratitude...I'll be all Bill Murray at the end of Scrooged.   All I can say is look sharp people, look sharp.

If you can't handle that....then there's this...
http://www.buzzfeed.com/mjs538/moments-that-restored-our-faith-in-humanity-this-y

Human Behaviour...

Today I am thankful for all the people out there in the great wide world who show heart.  Who did the right thing when it wasn't asked, just because.  Specifically, I am thankful for boys like the one below who was pinned, during a wrestling match, by another boy with cerebral palsy.  Those boys will grow into men someday and just knowing that there is the potential for two more good men out there makes me a grateful gal.

Way to be fellas...

He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother...

Today I am thankful for my brother, because obviously.  I've got just the one you see and he is eight years younger than me.  Due to this unfortunate circumstance (for him), I've spent nearly thirty two years bossing him about and telling him ridiculous things all without him batting an eye or even raising his voice at me.  Mostly he just laughs at me, or with me, and he genuinely seems to appreciate me for all the asshatted glory that is Kell.

Recent exchanges between me and my brother:

Me: I'd rather get a gynelogical exam at McDonald's with a spork than go to that party
Jack: Ha!  I forgot about sporks.  Right?

Me: We'll totally fit all these Costco items in my matchbox car, not to worry
Jack: I don't think that's going to work
Me: Well it's a shame I have to leave you here so I can bring my groceries home

Jack: After hitting head on the doorframe - Why'd you have to bring this car
Me: Laughing
Jack: I feel like I'm doing crunches in this car
Me: It's a healthride.  You're welcome

Me: I think if I were to buy you that shirt that CeeLo wears in the muppet video you would rock that shit.  I'm gonna look into getting that for you for Christmas

Jack: I like the Muppets

He would totally rock this shit

Jack: Are you still doing that vegetarian shit?

Me: Yes, I just gag otherwise

Jack: You're ridiculous, I just had an awesome surf and turf at my house the other night

Me: You didn't witness the massacre in my refrigerator

You Who?

YouTube ~  today I am thankful for you and the endless opportunities for mindless entertainment provided daily.  Youtube allows me to view old Scooby episodes, get my hands on videos of people falling down and view hilarious kitten montages.  Kudos to you YouTube for also helping me entertain three howler monkeys who are decidedly less than impressed with TV offerings now that we no longer have cable.

The video is not only heartwarming, but answered the question as to what to get my brother for Christmas - CeeLo's outfit is just what I was looking for.

With the holidays coming up, it's never a mistake to brush up on your etiquette

Conversate for a few...

Today I am thankful for the conversations I get to have with one badass little girl named Ella.  To be honest, she mostly does the talking and my role is simply listener.  Recent exchanges with Ella include the following:

Ella: Why do girls have to wear bras?
Me:   Um, because...
Ella:  Is it so their nipples don't glob down?
Me:   Yes, that's exactly it!  Although mommy doesn't have to really worry about that
Ella:  Well some people do, and nobody wants knee nipples.  Ferocious giggling followed by knee nipples said under her breath as she walked away.

Ella: Today in my class we talked about things you can do if there is a stranger trying to take you in a car.
Me: Stranger Danger?
Ella: We didn't call it that, but okay.
Me: What ideas did you have?
Ella: We had a lot of ideas.  I like the idea of screaming as loud as you can and saying NO!
Me: That's a good one.
Ella: Yes, there were a lot of ideas but talking about it made me not comfortable.
Me: You were uncomfortable?
Ella: Yes, talking about it made me feel like I had to fart.

Me: What should we put on your Christmas list?
Ella: Monster High dolls
Me: Don't you have a bunch of those?
Ella: Yes, but many of them are broken
Me:  Broken, well then shouldn't we throw them away?
Ella: No! They're only missing hands, feet and hair

Ella: Knock, knock
Me: Who's there?
Ella: Apple
Me: Apple who?
Ella: Apple
Me: Apple who?
Ella: Orange you glad I didn't say banana? Ferocious giggling followed by orange, banana, apple muttered under her breath.

Piss in boots

So I thought and thought about writing what I was most thankful for on Thanksgiving, and I had all kinds of ideas.  My beautiful healthy family, my friends (most of whom are like family), my health, a roof over my head, etc.  But then I threw up in my mouth a little because everything I was inclined to write was all schmaltzy and best written as a script for a Hallmark movie (new career perhaps?), and I didn't want to diminish my true and deep gratitude for all of those things.  I'll save that kind of schmaltz for when I'm three sheets to the wind in a 'I love you man' kind of way when my sentiments will be taken seriously and accepted as truth.

New sign for my boots?

Anyway, today I am thankful for having more than one pair of shoes (there's a proverb in there somewhere if you look close enough) as the toddler monkey peed on my brown boots.  I'll admit the onus is on me for leaving them dangerously close to the toilet in the bathroom, especially when there's a  two year old running around my house naked and who has, at best, poor aim.  He emptied his little bladder all over my boots, and the bathroom floor, but was kind enough to be a little freaked out about missing the toilet completely and to run and get the bleach wipes.

So, in actuality I am grateful for two things today: owning more than one pair of shoes & a considerate, toilet minded toddler.

No dark sarcasm in the classroom...

Today, and most days actually, I am thankful for books!  These amazing creations allow us to exit our existence, get to know some new people/things, and live in an alternate reality if only for a little while.  Books are almost like  movies in this way, but with, you know, words.

For the past few months, I've been working with a group of 11th grade special education students.  Their teacher and I worked really hard to try to find books that would be at their reading levels and also hold their interest without insulting them.  It's not such an easy task.  But we hit gold with graphic novels.  Hello highly illustrated text to support struggling readers.  Today I was with this group of kids and they were vigorously discussing one of the books which was awesome sauce in and of itself, but then I realized they were trying to hurry through their discussion so they could get back to READING!!!  True Story!

Moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of cuties....

Today I find myself grateful for the Cutie.  No, not the high school hottie down the street who wears nothing but low-rise jeans, but the little, seedless, um, orange? tangerine? clementine? mandarin?  I don't know what the hell they actually are, but my howler monkeys are all up in that mesh bag they come in.

I bought a three pound bag, and already half are gone.  As are half the pack of baby wipes used to clean up sticky hands and faces when they finished.  Whatever, I passed them off as dessert and they literally ate them up.  HA!

Thank you brilliant, evil, Californian marketing geniuses.

Watersports at Chuck E. Cheese?

Today I am ever so grateful to Chuck E. Cheese's.  While it's hard to believe, I assure you, it's quite true.  I am thankful, because today Chuck E. gifted me the ultimate reason for never going back there again.

Let me give you a little backstory.  We haven't been to C.E.C. in about four or five years, as my oldest howler monkey got violently ill each and every time we went.  We didn't go that often, but this place runs high on the birthday wish list of small children.  Anyway, the last time we went my son actually had to be treated, intravenously, for excessive vomiting.  My husband and I were all too happy not to return to an experience that can best be likened to eating the brown acid.

Until today.  We went today because our daughter was invited to a birthday party for one of her new little kindergarten friends.  Siblings included.  We talked to our son who decided he'd take the risk and go.  After being there for about and hour and a half, just when my husband appeared to be weeping, and my eyes started twitching, our son and a friend got off the slide wearing frowny faces and wet clothes.  WET CLOTHES.  They had followed a little girl down the slide who had peed her pants during the entire ride down.   Unbeknownst to them, they (and their clothes) were the clean up crew for someone else's urine.  When you utter the sentence "so you're telling me that you're soaked in a stranger's urine" to your nine year old, it is the time to walk away.  Forever.

Thanks Chuck, you evil rat bastard.

I was looking into the mirror, to see a little bit clearer...

Ah, a little over a week has passed since Election Day, and boy have the pithy animal pictures, and bowel movement postings come back in full force on Facebook.  I, too, finished a cycle; a forty day cycle.  One that was fraught with tension, and worry over the election, but also one that was filled with positivity and productivity.  Just as the 40 days was wrapping up, I managed to de-clutter the kids' rooms (again, sigh) and rid my home of ill fitting clothing and little pieces of little toys - damn you to hell legos.  Things are remaining organized - sort of - and clean - sort of,  and that makes me happy.  The next month will find me having the kids organize unused toys into discard and donate piles to ready for the big show at the end of December.

Also, it is 38 days until Christmas, and even though we're halfway through the month of November, I'd additionally like to spend the next 40 (38) days being grateful each and every day.  I know I'm behind the Facebookers, but I'm always behind and I'll continue to pretend not to let this bother me.  Also, I think gratitude should last through the entire holiday season as this next month and a half is chock full of impatience, stress and selfishness.

Today I'd like to express my thanks to all the stupid people out there in the world, sharing the air with us.  These mouth breathers unwittingly make the world a better place, in so many ways: they make the rest of us look better, they will say things many of us were thinking of saying, but kept to ourselves in fear of sounding stupid, they bring up invigorating discussions around the survival of the species and Darwinism, and most importantly, they show the rest of us how not to behave.  I'd like to give a special shout out to those in our midst who showed extraordinary stupidity this week:

a. The gal I work with who overuses air quotes accompanied by a fake smile.

b. The folks who have decided that due to an undesirable outcome on the election, their states should secede from the union.

c. The people involved in the Petraeus scandal.

d. The PapaJohns pizza corporation

e. Mitt Romney when explaining why his campaign failed.

So a hearty THANK YOU for all the idiots of the world.  True story.

I just wanna bang on the drum all day...

Just the other day, I heard myself telling someone that I didn't think I would be any good at being a stay at home mom.  Because I really appreciate the time I have with my kids, and if I was home all day I wouldn't be able to appreciate all the precious moments; and by precious moments, I am referring to those little ceramic dolls with big eyes, not time spent with my children.  I'm too independent and need adult time and focused, mind expanding experiences all day (which of course begs the question: why did I stop smoking pot?).  Blah, blah, blech - I almost wanted to punch myself in the face for such a confident, sanctimonious answer.  After this brief encounter, I was struck by how I honestly didn't know if what I said was actually true, or something I had sold myself on over the past decade?

The truth of the matter probably lies somewhere in between.  Do I enjoy working? Mostly.  Do I miss my kids during a day? Mostly.  Am I glad to have somewhere productive to be all day?  Mostly.  There are no definitive answers for me, all answers are dependent on a given moment, and current circumstances/situations, and for me to pretend otherwise - conscious or not- is a bunch of malarkey.  I'm calling bullshit on myself.

What I can say with absolute certainty is that while I am at work, I feel badly for not being there for my kids- like this year when I missed Halloween celebrations at their school.  Although, I did get to go trick or treating with them and friends for many hours.  With absolute certainty, I also know that their are many times that I feel like a bad employee - like when I take a day off to stay home with a sick baby, or leave early because the kids have an early release day.   I suppose I'll continue to ride the fence of uncertainty; half bad employee + half bad mom = modern day woman?

PIN THIS...

Dear Pinterest,
In the seventh grade I had the unfortunate experience of learning that I could not sing.  It wasn't that I had great aspirations prior, but any dreams of singing outside of the shower died the moment that the sadist teacher in charge of chorus put my twelve year old, slow to physically develop, mullet-hair wearing self in the boys alto section. It was at this time that I realized that I had limitations.  I couldn't sing, I wasn't going to be a professional dancer, and I certainly wasn't going to be an artist.  The things I could not do could fill a book, and I have been just fine with the realization of my limitations for the past twenty odd years.

But then, you Pinterest, entered my life.  Approximately a year and a half ago.  And, I started having hope for things that I had previously laid to rest.  Like I could be a really good cook, a chef almost.  And, I could craft things out of left over kitchen tiles and dental floss.  And, my kids' rooms would look magazine picture worthy.  The opportunities for my hair and nails were endless and even though I don't hold a beauticians certification, I could pull these things off at my very own dining table.

For these aspirations, hopes and dreams, I say to you Pinterest: F.U.  I'll admit that I've made a few good cakes from recipes on your site and I made a really good chicken taco in the crock pot twice.  Beyond that though, Pinterest, I have been reminded almost weekly that I am an epic fucking failure.

Watermelon cake pops.  Sure I can do that I said.  Three dozen reddish turds on a stick later, I shoved them in the freezer and waited until everyone had a lot to drink before serving them.

Nor will I soon forget the facial mask made out of things in my pantry.  You know the one guaranteed to minimize my pores and smell citrusy?  Yeah that one, the one that made me look like a 3rd degree burn victim, and made me waste precious sea salt.

I could also bring up the beachy waves I tried to create with braids and a flat iron, but I don't have any Xanax left.

So to you, Pinterest, again I say FUCK YOU!  Before you came along, I knew what my limitations were, but you brought it up a notch.  You introduced me to things that I didn't even know I was bad at.   All I ask is that you leave me and my box made cakes, store bought cleaners, gifts, Vietnamese manicures and frizzy hair alone.  I'm better off not knowing what I don't know you vicious bitch.

Sincerely,
Kell