This is the exciting part!

I have kids. Three of my own and two step kids. I was like most people who planned on having kids. I had tried for two years before I finally got pregnant. I was SO excited.
Zoom ahead 25 years to anyone that is considering having children and I would like to give you some tips before you walk down this road.
Tip 1: Before you have kids start out by setting your alarm to go off ever two hours for the first few months, then set it for every three hours for up to a year. While you are doing this also open your back door and throw out at least one or two paychecks a month. Don't stare at it...it is gone....this is the exciting part.
Tip2: Remember to never leave your house without packing 300 things in your car. Plan on always being late and practice arguing with your spouse every chance you get. In fact to get even more practice in leave something important behind on every trip just for fun. Keep in mind that.... this is the exciting part.
Tip3: Taper back on your sex life to almost nothing for 3 years times how many kids you would like to have. When you do finally get an opportunity to have sex make sure you stop half way leaving your spouse waiting for you. This is the exciting part!
Tip4: Randomly go around your house and break stuff. Pick things that mean nothing and things that have a lot of sentimental value. For excitement throw some of your spouses stuff out the window as your driving down the interstate to never be seen again. When they question you as to why? Pretend like you have no idea what they are talking about. Plus you need to continue throwing your paychecks out the back door. Yep...this is the exciting part.
Tip5: Buy groceries, take them home and put them directly in the garbage. Rip open all of your bags of chips or cookies and leave them open for the next guy. Parents love these kinds of stale surprises.
Tip6: Randomly send money to local doctors, dentists and hairdresser's. If you want to have girls plan on sending a paycheck to the hairdresser every 2 months.
Tip7: Drive yourself to football games, wrestling meets, basketball games, tee-ball, soccer, track , cross country and anything else that the local school has going on. Don't shy away if the weather is bad. Sit under your blanket and rain coat and remind yourself that... this is the exciting part.
Tip8: At Christmas time buy a lot of toys, spend time wrapping them then on the great day open them and have your spouse beat them all to a pulp with a baseball bat. Boy wasn't that fun!
Tip9: To plan for the teenage years slam all your doors all day long. Never fill your car with gas and drive around on empty for excitement. Double your grocery amount and then complain about how there is nothing to eat. Sigh loudly at your spouse and when asked what's wrong reply that your bored. Resume setting your alarm for the middle of the night and sit up in the dark until your eyes are burning out of your head while randomly calling your spouse  and asking them a stupid question. Like" Do I need to come home at curfew?" Wait 20 mins and do over.

If you make it through all this exciting stuff and haven't gotten divorced, became homeless or ended up in 5 east then you are ready for kids. Just don't forget...this is the exciting part!

Till death do we part.

I hate my neighbor's dog. He is an old, dusty looking, almost dead dog. I'm guessing by appearance he is about 150 in human years. My husband and I discuss that dog at least once a week. The dog has gotten to the point where he crap's like a horse now and turds just fall out of him on the road as he slowly walks by. Squatting to take a dump is no longer needed since the muscle's that hold everything in have all but given up.
I know... I am a terrible person for not liking that dusty, half dead dog. I should feel bad for the poor old geezer. Here is the reason I don't...the dog barks ALL day long. When the owner's leave they put him out on a chain and I am stuck sitting here listening to him go bark, wait a minute, bark, wait a minute,bark, wait a minute,bark,wait a minute, bark, wait a minute,bark....a solid steady bitch bark that could make me start drinking during the day if I had the funds to support it.
I realize it isn't the dogs fault. He is just upset because he is 150 human years old, can't see out of one eye anymore and turds just fall out as he walks around.
It's his owner's fault...they leave him and don't care that he barks all day because they aren't home to listen to him bitch about his old miserable life. If I spoke dog I am sure he is calling them dirty names all day. That is the one thing I have in common with the dusty, old, half dead dog.
I don't want any animal lover's to write me telling me how horrible I am because I don't like this dusty dog. I have kids but that doesn't mean I love every kid that walks the earth. I have Cosmo the superdog but that doesn't mean I have to like this half dead dog.
 I can not so fondly recall a time when Logan was a baby and we all lived in a home that didn't have a basement. The tornado whistle went off 4 times that night and I loaded up my 3 kids PLUS 2 HAMSTER'S to go uptown to the storm shelter. I stood there each time holding my baby (who weighed a ton) in a car seat up and out of the mouth's of all the animals the people had brought up with them. Anyone who has held a baby in a car seat for very long appreciates that gravity is a bitch and babies are heavy. The 4th time the whistle went off I had just gotten home in a pouring rain with my 3 kids and 2 hamster's. I stood sopping wet inside my door as it began to blair and walked straight into my bedroom , opening the door to my interior closet and jamming all 3 kids and the 2 stupid  hamster's inside. I was to tired to haul us back uptown to stand with a doberman pincher eyeing my son as it's next meal.
So back to the dead dog. I guess I should be a little bit thankful to him because he annoys me so bad I actually leave the house and find stuff to do. Take yesterday for instance...I had put off getting groceries for 2 weeks. I mean we had some peanut butter and 4 slices of bread left. What's the big deal? Dusty dog started his non stop barking and I found myself staring out the window at him. Thinking about giving him a sweet drink of yummy antifreeze when I changed my mind..grabbed my purse and went and got groceries. By the time I got home and put everything away the half dead dog's owner's had returned home to save dusty dog from yet another close brush with death. None the wiser.
Today the sun is shining, dusty dog's owner's are home and he is inside his warm house doing whatever a half dead dog does at 8 am in the morning....*sigh*...hopefully he isn't following this blog.

Parenting 101

I had parent teacher conferences recently. I hate parent teacher conferences! HATE them!
Why.. because no matter how well a kid is doing they always find something to bitch about. I am on my third kid here...two have grown, graduated and are gone and now I just have Logan (my gift from god) left.
He has ADHD so every conference sounds the same ...he TALKS to much. *sigh*
Ya think? He started talking at like 2 months and hasn't shut his mouth since! I'll take a new complaint for 100 dollars, Alex!
Logan has low A's and high B's which is pretty damn good for a kid that can't remember to brush his teeth each day or to wipe his own butt most times. I have followed him after he has used the bathroom and left me a present in the toilet with no paper... I know.
I do medicate him on school days but let me make this clear that I do it FOR him not for the teacher's that get annoyed with him. That means I have to rely on them to let me know how he's doing. That's why I go.
I met with one of his teacher's who has him for 4 classes a day. I figured she would be the best one to tell me how he's doing. She didn't look like she was going to have a nervous breakdown so I felt like everything was gonna be good. She could barely speak though and she seemed to be so nervous that she couldn't catch her breath.
I have a reputation of being a hard ass at this school. I have had to fight with teacher's for years over Logan's ADHD. One idiot complained that he would get up and shut the door all day because of all the hallway traffic.. it would bother him. DUH..he has ADHD! Don't sit him at a desk right by the door. *double sigh* The only teacher that ever liked him and didn't complain was a woman that I like to call the drill Sergent. She was a total bad ass but that kid excelled under her watch and she gave him praise. Something most ADHD kids don't get often enough.
He is doing wonderful and his reading is so advanced that they have put him a class for the more accelerated reader's so he won't get bored. Recently they have been reading the book "Water for elephants" It has some pretty steamy parts in it and Logan being 13 acted like a typical 13 year old boy by yapping about the sex stuff in another class which caused a chain reaction that ended up back in my lap.
They expect allot from a boy that just turned 13 last week...they should of been in my junior high class. Kelly peed in a tuba in the band room, Troy threw a huge wad of toilet paper onto one of glass windows in a door and we all got to watch is slide slowly down while Mrs Cook looked like she was gonna have a heart attack, and there's Tyler and his lovely football throw into Sue's nose at a 5 foot range. Just to name a few...
I have not read the book but did see the trailer of the movie before it came out which looked like a steamy love story. I also knew about the steamy stuff because Logan came home one day while I was on the phone with his oldest sister and told me about a part in the book where this dude was masturbating.
 His sister was like "What did he say?" I repeated it to her and she flipped out. "He's not old enough for that mom!" Whatever...he is in junior high now. I had to remind her that somewhere there is a 13 year old boy having sex right now and we should be glad he just dropped the M bomb....and nothing else.
To get my point across to her I reminded her of an evening years ago when her, her sister (who was probably in 7th or 8th grade) and I were driving home from a concert at the school.
I had 3 miles left and I would be off the gravel road we were on and heading into my house for the night. I can still see the glow of the dash lights as I was driving when I heard a voice from the backseat say "Mom, what's a blow job?" I almost drove into the ditch as I turned to look in the mirror and try and see the  face of my curious daughter. I then realized that my oldest sitting next to me had a big smirk on her face. My first reaction was to respond with something like "I don't know what your talking about." If you can explain it then it implicates you...nobody warned me when I was pregnant about this part.
I am a firm believer in the truth though no matter how hard it is to spit out so after I blocked out the side eyeing, grinning face of my high school kid I began to explain what it was. Straight up..no beating around the bush. I did not get to finish as the voice from the back seat began to say in a loud, flat, tone...NEVERMIND..NEVERMIND..NEVERMIND!
I guess you could say that by now I am numb to all this parent crap so that night I began to explain to Logan that it's a privilege for him to be in this reading class reading mature material and I expect him to act mature about the material he has read. That even though boobs, butt's and masturbating is funny to talk about the kid he is joking about it to may not be as mature ( I doubt that) and it might actually embarrass them...blah,blah, blah, yada, yada, yada....whatever.
I am still not sure I agree with him reading a book where the class skips over the sexy parts in class but then the kids have it in their possession to drool over the smut later when they are alone. All that  means is if he has questions about anything I may just end up driving in the ditch some dark night on the way home.
I'm getting to old for this shit.

My friend

I have a friend in prison. Yes, I still call him my friend.
Why.. because from 1st grade until long after graduation we had a group of us that ran around together, laughed, partied, got married, had kids, some of us went through divorce. He made me laugh more often then he has ever made me sad. I miss him and have just recently began to write him in prison.
People don't think about the family and friends of someone that has done wrong.They can't comprehend how hurt we all are by the choice this human being has made. I have done the same thing..."Lock the bastard up and throw away the key!" I still feel that way when I see any sexual predator on t.v. I have no compassion for this human being. I forget that this person is someones son, daughter, husband, wife, father, mother, best friend.
My friend murdered another human being. He did it in the most awful way and he did it in front of her children. They could hear her screams as she was being killed in her front yard. I almost throw up as I write this just thinking about how awful it must of been for them. I feel sad for them and wish I could find some way of helping them through what must of been the most terrifying moments of their young lives. I can't. No words I could ever say could ever make this better.
I feel very angry when I think about those final moments that changed my friend from a "normal" human being to what most would consider a monster. I also feel sad that he didn't love himself enough to want better for himself. That he settled into a life that wasn't the kind of life our group of friends would have ever wished upon him.
My first letter told him that I could not find the words to write and that is why years have passed before he has heard from me. The person I write to is not the murderer but the funny, stupid kid that I grew up with. By me writing to him it does not mean that I condone what he has done. I cannot ever understand nor forgive this horrible act! He does deserve to sit in prison and had he gotten the death penalty I would of understood that to.
I miss my friend though. I miss his wit, his genius. He was so super smart the guy never had to crack a book. He could of been anything! We all knew it. We all envied that he was like that. I had to study my ass of to even hope for a B yet you have this guy that didn't even have to struggle and he could pull an easy A anytime.
My friend didn't know this..He didn't know he could be anything...he lacked self esteem. His life was a hard one yet he always was the funny one...the one that was easy to talk to.
He didn't judge people....I think this was his biggest character flaw. I know that some of you won't agree with this because you post things saying don't judge anyone.
My question is... if you lived your life not judging anyone than would you hang around the shady assholes that your mother warned you about?  We all judge and that is part of the reason I am free...and my friend isn't.
I don't surround myself with drug user's and drunks. I don't want to hang out with people that would rather steal then work. I judge..and I am judged. Some people won't understand why I still call this man my friend. He is a killer..he did something awful and unforgivable.....but to me he is still that stupid kid I grew up with. The idiot that put a hot dog in someones mouth if they passed out early by a campfire. The one that most people followed because he would always supply a good time. The guy that never complained about his shitty life.
I wish he had complained like the rest of us bitcher's. I wish we could of seen this coming. We didn't. We are victims too. We lost someone too. We may never see him again. He may die in prison. Even if he doesn't die there I am sure his personality will. I have no plans to ever visit him because he probably wouldn't be my friend anymore if I saw him in that enviorment but I can write him a few times a year.
 I have chosen to do this because....He would of done it for me. He is my friend.

Fight like a girl

I have a weird boob.
 Just one is kind of odd. It has never played by the rules and for whatever reason I can't decide if it is an oddball or a rebel that wants to stand out in the crowd. Years ago I had to have a lymph node removed from that arm pit. It had gotten all weird , feverish, hard and ill so the doc took it out. I was in my early 30's at the time. It came back as noncancerous so I went about my business and pushed it into my memory bank.
I had my son in Oct of 99 and that same boob decided to get an awful case of mastitis which if you haven't ever had it count your lucky star's. It is a breast infection that usually occurs in women who are breastfeeding. The doctor puts you on antibiotic's and they recommend that you continue breast feeding. UGH! Nobody wants to do anything with a boob that is feverish, throbbing, aching, mess with a hard infected spot that feels like it is going to explode except wish it wasn't on their body. I did not continue breast feeding but did pump until that poor, sad, boob got well. It was so ill I almost sent it flowers.
I did notice that even after it was well it was not the same. It appeared the same but it never felt the same so I have since named it my weird boob. I am not going to tell you which boob it is to stop you from staring at it when I see you at Fareway or Casey's pumping gas. You will just have to glance and then discuss it with yourself later. " I don't know ..the left boob looks a bit more perky. Ha ha...jokes on you because perky is not in any of my 47 year old boobs description.
My daughter is 24 and one of her best friends was diagnosed with breast cancer. She recently had surgery and her breasts removed. There was no cancer found in the lymph nodes which was a huge relief to everyone but the cancer she had is an aggressive little bastard which is never good. It will be long road for her and sadly cancer doesn't give a shit that she has a 13 year old boy just like mine. She will start chemo in Nov. ...SHE is the reason I am talking about weird boob.
She got me thinking about my weird boob and I have to admit I do not do self exam's like I should. I think self exam's should be taught to junior high boys who would love nothing more then to feel that fake boob they hand around the gym class for all the girls to feel...anyway.... I know...then they wouldn't be called self exam's but let's be real here. I do not touch my weird boob as much as my husband does. (If my girls are reading this...Scott does not ever touch my breasts!) Anyway...If he knew what to watch for he could let me know. "Hey, Weird boob is acting up again!"
I actually took the time to check weird boob this month which is weird because October is breast cancer awareness month and I found something that felt well...weird. Can I say that I was actually not shocked? I felt around for a long time and decided it was time to go get them ironed by a professional and see what happens. I booked an appt. for a mammogram and went in on Oct 5th.
 I was calm and even though I had told myself I wasn't gonna tell Captain Cool (my husband) I did mention it in passing. I didn't say anymore because I see no need to alarm people without information. He didn't ask anymore and since it is breast cancer awareness month it didn't set off any red flags...even though my last mammogram was 6 years ago. I know...I'm a loser and I suck! I have no good excuse either I just suck!
So I went in for the ironing and Sara got me all set up. She ironed them from all directions and I tried to joke a bit with her but she must of forgot her sense of humor at home that day.: (
 As I pulled the weird boob loose from the mammogram machine I listened to the odd worn out Velcro sound it made as it released. I remember thinking how magical these things are by the way they bounce back after being smashed. I was busy thinking how lucky I am that they snap back and I  that I won't have to drive down to the local gas station to put air in them or roll them up like a fruit roll up when I heard Sara explaining that I will get a letter in the mail with my results. The pit in my stomach told me I wouldn't get a letter...
Today Sara called me to set up an appt. to have more images taken. I was calm on the phone as she explained that the radiologist that read the slides would like to me to come to his hospital to take some more images....I am scheduled for Oct 30th. I have decided not to say anything to my family until I have something to say.
I couldn't keep it a secret from Captain Cool and so now we both can worry together. To people pretending to be happy and not worried is better then one.
Today I went and had another smashing...the pit in my stomach didn't show up until the smasher said she was going to take some extra pictures of weird boob. I felt sick and kept telling myself to calm down.
I was lucky enough to have my films read today by a radiologist and he said that weird boob is just fine....the Double Decker smashing they did today took away the white spot that was of concern on the films and cancer won't do that.
My husband and I ate a fattening meal from Hardee's today and as I drove home I kept telling myself how lucky I am that I still have this stupid boob to make fun of and call weird. that I don't have a fight of my life ahead of me.
So to all my friends..feel yourself up tonight and make sure those sweater puppies are healthy.
To Crystal Summer's : You have impacted more lives then you know and we are all in your corner Honey...if ya need a woman with a weird boob to drive ya to chemo, clean your house, do your grocery shopping ..whatever...I'm here for ya.