Sunday, March 14, 2010

Dear: Chicken Of The Sea

I am currently tossing back a few Tums in order to ease the stomach ache that I know was caused by you.  I bought a can of you this evening with the hopes of making a delicious sandwich for dinner.  I even splurged and purchased the "All White Chunk Albacore in Water".  What happened to you and your quality?  I opened a can of your finest and went to drain the liquid out and the top of the can completely caved in causing the tuna-mush to ooze out the sides.  It was virtually impossible to "drain" anything out of the can.  I could go on forever about my disappointment, but describing it now is just making the stomach ache that much worse.  Needless to say, only a third of the sandwich was consumed and the rest was quickly rushed to the trash can outside.  I intend to take the second can I purchased and just throw it away. Leaving it for even a cat to eat would be cruel.

Friday, March 12, 2010


I read a lot of books.  Sometimes I have read an entire series more than once (and in some cases, more than twice).  It started with my parents making me read Harry Potter instead of the 4 self-help books I had on my nightstand.  Best therapy I've ever had was in that entire series, followed by the Twilight series, the House of Night series, and now starting the Feather series.  I'm completely into anything that seems opposite from reality.  If my reality is one that is painful, stressful, boring, or even great, I love to read these books.  My life consists of many stress factors.  The books I read keep my imagination going, which I feel keeps me young.  (Don't argue this with has to be why I'm so immature sometimes).  They also clear my mind of the daily regiment of pretty much every little thing that I might be responsible for.  Who can't love that?

So, with all of my reading I've done, I've also done a lot of writing.  Clearly.  Ultimately, I hope to write a novel of my own to include my own silly imagination and help others fall asleep with fun things on their minds at night.  To start, I'm looking at having this fun little hobby published.  I actually contacted a publishing company.  Geez, if anything, I could have a bunch printed off that would be for just family and friends.  Or, I can think bigger (which I always do) and think it can go beyond my loved ones.  My brother is published in the science fields for some of the research he did at the Fred Hutchison Cancer Research Center.  I'd like to be published, too, but without having to poke sharp objects at cute little pets.
Well, that's something I'm working on.

On another nerdy note, Farrah and I watch the Harry Potter movies... every... day.  She is a huge fan.  As am I.  It, at least, has to be playing in the background. She wants it to be playing in my car, on our main TV when we get home, and now while Mike is out of town, upstairs in my room EVERY NIGHT.  I don't mind too much because I love the movies, but it is getting to the point where she and I can both recite the lines.  Now, that's silly.  So, as I type this I'm watching the first Harry Potter with Farrah and when it's time for us to go to bed, we'll watch #2, #3, #4, and #5.  That's what we do.  Also, New Moon is coming out next week on DVD and I can hardly stand it!!!


Thursday, March 04, 2010

That's Our Little Girl

Farrah has a little talent that she has had from the moment she arrived in our arms.  She belches like a man. Not just any man, but a Schmidt, Coors, or Miller man.  She doesn't burp.  No.  She doesn't pause, excuse herself, put her fist up to her mouth to block the air from escaping and blowing into your face, or keep her mouth closed so her cheeks fill up with her burp.  Uh uh.  She will be talking to us and in mid-sentence, a bellowing explosion passes her lips while telling us a story, and she simply continues and acts like nothing happened.  But it did, Farrah.  It did just happen.  I hope she doesn't think she can get away with that when she's in high school!  If she doesn't get a handle on her "gasses", life is gonna get a little awkward.  This is what could potentially be my daughter's future:

"So, tomorrow I have a geometry test that I BWWWWRRRRAAAAPPPPP haven't even studied for. 
I'm going to have to crunch if I want to pass it."

I'm not exaggerating.  She doesn't even laugh afterwards.  Usually, if something like that happens to someone, they're completely thrown off guard and dramatically apologize for being so "rude".  Luckily, I grew up around boys and my husband is still a boy, so I find this funny.  So, she doesn't laugh until she hears me laugh.  She doesn't realize how funny it is!  It's funny, because it's weird.  Who does that?  Who doesn't see that coming?  Or at least feel it coming?

Farrah, sweetheart, at least pretend to have some sort of shock on your face when this happens to you.  It's not a normal thing that people can just ignore.  Especially, your burps.  They are LOUD and LONG.  Impressive...yes.  Normal...not so much.

You're excused.

Wednesday, March 03, 2010


I cannot stand bad parenting.  There is no excuse for it.  I'm not saying I'm perfect at it, because I know that I'm not.  I am saying that, at times, I'm better than some.  Tonight was a great example of somebody's shitty parenting skills.  We have a new member at the gym who joined today with her 3 children, all daycare aged.  She had a baby boy (about 9 months old), a little girl (about 2 years), and an older son (age 5).  Here's where our story begins...

Shelbee was working in the Kid's Club tonight and asked me at what point she should get a parent when a child has been acting out the entire time, since dropped off.  Mind you, these children had been in the Kid's Club a whole 5 minutes when I was asked this question.  From the time they were dropped off, the 5 year old was tearing the place apart.  He was even doing it while the mother was there, signing her kids in.  He had already spent 90% of the time there in time-out.  When he was finally "released", he immediately went on a rampage while I was in the room.  He took toys from other kids, he threw things, he messed up other kids' drawings, and he wouldn't mind.  So, basically, he was awful.  (Keep in mind, I'm considered the Daycare Nazi.  I don't take shit from any kids.  They will respect my gym and my stuff or else!)

Then there's his baby brother.  I had noticed a car seat that looked like there was a bunch of "stuff" spilled on the straps and in the seat.  I looked at the baby and he had yellow crap all down the front of his clothes.  Shelbee had pointed out that he looked like that from the time he came in and she wasn't sure what was all over him.  Next thing we knew, we turned around and the yellow stuff on his shirt was now on the floor.  Gross.  I didn't know what we were dealing with; spit up, or puke.  While we gathered kids away from the little mess, we were planning on going to get the mother just to be on the safe side and so she could deal with her oldest.  (The middle child remained invisible the whole time - no drama there).  Suddenly, another pile of "stuff" that we deduced to being barf.  Nice.

So, Shelbee got the mom who slowly and casually came back to the Kid's Club.  We explained that we weren't sure what was wrong with her baby and she just slowly walked up to the baby and said, "Hmm, what's wrong?"  No biggie, but I started to think about all the CLEAR signs that were there BEFORE she brought her baby in...HE'S SICK, DUMMY!!!  While she strapped her baby into the barf coated car seat, I was dealing with her bratty son.  He was getting into the separated baby area and I told him to get out.  He was grabbing chalk and I had to follow him and take it from him to remind him that he lost his chalk privileges due to being disrespectful to the other kid's and their artwork.  He was pushing and shoving a little girl and I had to quickly run up to him and tell him hands off!  He then spilled another kid's goldfish on the floor and that's when I was done, because the whole time she just stood there doing nothing at all.  NOTHING!  So, I told him to get over by his mother and stay there and was not to leave her side.  He said no and started running around the room.  Finally, I walked up to her and said, "You need to do something about your kid!"

I was not even nice about it at all.  In fact, I shocked myself with how curt I was with her, because that just isn't my style.  But you want to know what shocked me even more?  She casually told her son, "Okay buddy, it's time to go. Get your shoes on."  He started throwing a fit and she had to wrestle with him.  At that point, I had to walk out.  I couldn't stand it for several reasons.
A.  Her son obviously receives no punishment...ever.
B.  He has no concept of authority or discipline.
C.  This mother brought her sick kid to a DAYCARE so she could selfishly get a workout in, no matter how sick her child was or if he was contagious to the other children (including my own).
D.  Her reaction to me disciplining her son and telling her to do something about it, was not what I would expect a parent to do.

If someone was disciplining Farrah and I was there, I would let them finish the punishment and I would take over from there.  Not rescuing her, but following through to correct her bad behavior.  If someone told me to do something about my kid's shitty behavior, I'd probably actually REACT.  First, it would never get to that point with Farrah because I have no problem dragging her into the bathroom and giving her a spanking or a firm scolding.  But if someone said that to me, I would be up in their face telling them "how it is".  I would react that way, because I KNOW I try very hard to make sure I'm not raising an asshole.  That is my sole mission in life:  Don't raise an asshole

That being said, she must have known I was right.  She needed to do something about her effing kid!  The neglect with those kids made me crazy mad, and mad enough to tell a complete stranger (in not so many words) they're doing a poor job.  While the 5 year old was making me crazy, it wasn't him so much as it was the idea that this woman brought a clearly sick, 9 month old baby into the gym around other children instead of keeping him home and "mothering" him.  This woman has a son who is old enough to know better and to have manners and show people respect, but he's never been shown how.  It was so sad and awful.

If you're overwhelmed because you have 3 kids and don't exactly know what you're doing, for God's sake, ask for some help!  Don't contribute to the millions of other parents who decided to give birth to a "friend" and let them walk all over you and every person they come in contact with.  You need to rock the boat that is so uncomfortable to rock.  That's the hardest part of being a parent.  Parenting.  But TRY, dammit!!!  It doesn't take a "village", moms and dads, it takes YOU.