Stick a fork in me

I'm done!

I like to blame my bad days on the actual days. "Curse you Monday! You are rainy!" Grrr!! "Dang nab it Wednesday, you are so humpy!" Grrrrr!

I hate to place the blame on me or the kids or the dog or the husband...it always have to be the days.

Thursday...oh Thursday. Why you have to be....as the kids like to say...hate'n? I just feel like I'm banging my head against the wall....& the red spot is getting bigger. I have issues with my kids. That's the nice thing to say. The real story is at sometimes, some kids are WACK! And I...am done. I can't fix it. I can't fix them, I can't even fix breakfast anymore. Oh man I need a fix!

I have a kid I try to discipline & try to have their back at the same time. Yeah....that's a great combo! Well I had their back about something. We went over this nit picky crap their teacher was pulling. Got the whole story. Then proceeded to write a little note to her. I ended the note with a question. "Why do you have a 2x4 shoved in a place it shouldn't be?" No...I wish. I'm sassy...I ain't THAT sassy...only in my dreams! But I was stupid & ended the note with a question, so of course she calls me.

Uggg. I hate when teachers call. She explains her side of the story to me as I sit in silence. I didn't defend my child. Don't worry, it wasn't anything we needed to fix, it was just they were being "charged cash" for not turning in a form I had to sign....even though they still had 5 days before it HAD to be turned in. Yeah....little water torture techniques they hon in school.... is boring HOLES in my head!

So anyway, I didn't ask her questions. I just let her talk. Whatever, I just wanted to get back on FB. I had better things to do then listen to spin. After I got off the phone I was mad at myself. "Self....you didn't even ask her probing questions? Never defended the kid & say "give back their cash you meany mean head!" Oh no...I just said "ok, thanks for calling."

LOSER.

Oh but wait.

A few minutes later we discuss things w/ the Daddy & low & behold....my kid...LIED. Bold faced, straight up lied about what happened. (That was a slip on their part....opps, the cat I was beating in the bag, just stumbled out!") He never was charged $$. That happened to other kids. When we were discussing the stupid note to the teacher...the kid approved it & off it went.

Kid lied.

And I'm the fool. I can't do this. And to think...it only gets worse. Great...can't wait.

So I have decided my kids will be better off without me. Oh sure, they will cry for about 2.7 minutes, but life will go on & they will be fine. FINE! Because if I stay here any longer...they will NOT be fine. So moms, if you feel like you need to get away...come on over. The crazy train will be pulling out of the station & heading out to....hummmmm where can we go? Where do mom's go when they run away? Hawaii? Bourbon Street? Fuji? St. Louis? The bar down by the tracks? My van...locked...parked down the street where they can't find me?

Ah screw it...I can't even run away correctly! Who allowed me to be a mother anyway?

Mother issues

Happy Belated Mother's Day! Ahhh Mother's. Some are good, some are bad. Some are happy, some are sad. My Mother ....well she was a classy lady who taught me how to stand up straight, eat my peas & most importantly of all...she taught me how to take a good picture!





My mom was...how shall I put this....HOT. As a child I would break into her stash of pictures & stare in wonder at her black & white world. I loved the dress, the hair styles, the really high waisted pants her brother would wear. I became to despise the tacky day-glow ugly around me. I relished dressing in a manner that was more elegant & civilized. Uggg, the 80's...I was SO not into the fashion! Gag me with a spoon! In my mothers pictures I saw beauty & refinement.



Some would say I have Mother Issues....nooooo REALLY? And believe me...it's not because I had to pick out what dress my dead mother would have to wear in her pink casket....oh no. It had more to do with the image I had to life up to. Did I mention my mom was HOT?





How HOT was she?


She was so HOT she had no idea she was hot.


She was so HOT, even when she was 50 she got slapped on the bum walking down the street!

She was so HOT she was a model.


My Mother was a model....how could I compete?! ( her modeling career lasted one magazine article & one newspaper picture, but STILL!)



So excuse me if I have mother issues. After you see my proof, you will understand me better. And hopefully feel sorry enough for me to take me out for Sushi so I can wipe my tears with a napkin covered in Wasabi paste!





Mother, you are loved....even if you were HOT!










Here is my darling mom as the coveted "Yellow Pages Girl". Work that lawnmower! I remember my mom & I laughing so hard at this picture. I love the awkwardly bent finger. She said that finger pose was a doozy! I think she got paid 50 cents.









Here is a portfolio picture. She hated this picture. Why? Cuz she was "fat". I was shocked when I heard that. Look at her! Girl got some meat on her....& it's prime rib! My Dad & I thought she was perfect. Just goes to show you girls had issues with their body image that go wayyyy back.












AWWWWWW YEAHHHHH! Hey! Stop ogling my mother! Who can rock a plunging, orange jumpsuit? My mom, that's who! I swear she dressed that way just to piss off her mother....who can't even look at the camera. Awesome!

I love this photo! My 12 year old mom at the Boardwalk with her beloved father. She's so cute! Her red hair plopped on her little head! Her little bathing top! Her huge bathing bottoms that look like granny panties! Love, love it! Now if you would please direct your gaze to her "popped" knee. She how she pops it out across her other knee. That is her secret to a good pose. She learned early how to arrange her body. So next time you feel a little self conscience about your picture being taken....do the sassy "knee pop" you can't go wrong!

I....am not...knee popping. See the difference? 12 year old mom...knee pop=cute. Me...12 years old....sans knee pop=tragic. Don't let this happen to you. I know you all love the macrame bikini & you can't get enough of that eye sore. Well not to fear little campers....my next blog installment will be "The great & horrible & sad & scarring experience of the Bikini of death!!!!" Where I shall tell you all about my bikini shame. Stay tuned!

One word...stunning. This little hot tamale is my mom....at 17 years old. Yeah...I know. P.S...I still have those earrings w/ matching glass necklace. Be jealous.

Would you like to see me at 17?

Wait for it.

Waitttttt for it.

GOOD Heavens! Agggg! WHY? WHYYYYY? Do you SEE why I have issues? DO YOU?!

Lets' cleanse our eyeball pallet & end on a good note....& not a note that will be burned into your nightmares. Shake it off...shake it off!

You need not worry. My mother's lessons have paid off. I "knee pop" when I am unsure about how I look right before that picture is snapped. I fake confidence because it forces my shoulders back. I push my boobs out when I walk, because she said it will make me walk taller. That...was hard "Mom! I feel lewd! This is obscene! I feel stupid!" (Note to self...when your boobs point down to your navel...don't push out your almost 40 year old boobs.....lest you end up sticking your tummy out. Just pretend they are up where they were when you where 17....so...soooo long ago) But sure enough...she was right. In fact....she was right about everything she told me. So thanks mom for all the good advice. You...were right.